#just the one he was talking about how cute it was the other day

[inmyheaddd]

coffee sweetener — grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: the way i have like 6 other fics i'm working on, this was so cute though I had to write it asap!! thank u sm for the req! wc: 1.8k summary: one of your regulars at your café, grayson— who happens to be insanely handsome, comes in today like usual. but strangely enough, things go a tad further than the surface level small talk you usually have.

a familiar suit clad blonde walked in the near empty cafe you worked in. there was a soft hum of some chatter, but not much, as the early morning sun filtered through the large windows.

some people glanced up from their tables for a second, and some people glanced up at him for a lot more than a small second. could you blame them? no, not really. 

his eyes immediately found yours as he walked up to the cash register which you stood behind, and you found yourself averting your gaze involuntarily. 7:14 AM the time read. there was only one thing that made the early morning shift worth it, and it seemed to be standing right infront of you now. 

today his suit was gray, you noticed. it made his eyes stand out so much more, you nearly stumbled over your words. “you again,” you said, narrowing your eyes jokingly and biting back a smile.

he smiled the tiniest smile, shrugging as if to say ‘what can i say’ before pretending to look up at the menu to order.

“what would you recommend today?” he spoke smoothly, a stark contrast to some of the other people that would come in and simply shout at you.

“why does that matter?” you teased, tilting your head to the side before you looked down at the cash register for a moment and realised you’d already started putting in his usual order. “you get the same thing every time.” 

“'there seem to be no specials, but I'm in the mood for a change.'' he said, his grey eyes doing a once over on you. god, how you wish you weren’t wearing that horrible work apron right now. ''I can be a man full of surprises.”

you let out a small chuckle, “i find that hard to believe.”

everything about him screamed precise and orderly. that was partly what intrigued you so much when you first met him. the fact that he was incredibly gorgeous wasn’t so bad either. 

you expected him to get a black coffee, maybe a croissant if he was feeling extra adventurous that day, but no a large americano and a muffin. he would also get a blueberry scone or two some days, but always get it to go, and never eat it himself.

you almost wondered if he was ordering for someone else, maybe a girlfriend. but again, no. he sat alone with just his work laptop, having his americano and muffin. 

“is that so?” he countered, a slight raise of one of his brows and an amused smile playing on his lips. 

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling yourself. “very much so.” 

you were thankful there weren’t any customers in line behind him that would yell at you for taking too long. but even if there was a rude customer, you doubted they yell.

grayson had one of those sort of intimidating presences that made you think he was born to be a ceo or something. now that he’d been a regular for a couple months, that intimidation mostly wore off on you. you just thought he was a pretty cute guy with an obsession for suits. 

“i suppose i’ll have to prove you wrong then,” he said that in a way that made you think he proves people wrong very often. he adjusted one of his suits lapels, inadvertently drawing your eyes to his arms. “so i ask again, what do you recommend?” 

tearing your eyes away from his arms and back to his face, you asked, “you’re really going with this? okay, fine.” you raised your eyebrows like he had challenged you, but you still couldn’t wipe that stupid smile off your face. 

you rested your hands on the counter, “uhm,” you thought, humming slightly, “well, i usually get a refresher— like the strawberry or dragon fruit ones, or i get a hot chocolate.” you said, then a thought sparked in your mind. “oh! and a chocolate chip cookie. and a cake pop.” 

you bit back a grin— you did not get cake pops or chocolate chip cookies regularly, but the image of grayson with a cake pop or cookie made you want to laugh for some reason. 

“alright then,” he said, ''may i get a medium strawberry refresher, and a,'' he paused, saying the words like they almost pained him, ''two... two chocolate chip cookies, please.''

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

grayson left with his drink and cookie, sitting down at a table a bit further in the back, but he was still conveniently in your eyeline. he opened his briefcase, which you hadn't even realised he was holding. it seemed so natural for him to hold, you hadn't looked twice. you caught yourself looking at him frequently, and sometimes he would glance up from his laptop and lock eyes with you for a moment.

he came up to the counter a few minutes later, his drink finished and thrown away, and a cookie and a half left, adjusting his suit jacket with one hand, briefcase in the other. you fake sighed in annoyance as if his very presence was pestering you-- quite the contrary, really.

he only smiled in response.

''well?'' you said, wiping imaginary dust off of your apron, ''how was it? you sticking to the muffins?''

''I have to say, the refresher wasn't horrible. it was quite nice, actually.'' he said, and you gave him a teasing look that was like, 'told you so!' before he continued. ''however, the cookies were far too sweet. i’m sorry, you seem to have terrible culinary taste.''

you fake scoffed, painting the picture of being truly offended. ''okay, can i tell you a secret?'' you leaned forward, and he entertained you by doing the same, motioning for you to continue. ''yes, you're right. these cookies are absolutely horrible, i agree. but i make much better ones.''

amusement flashed across his eyes, like he guessed you had picked out the not-so-good snacks for him on purpose. “really?” he prompted, a dimple flashing in one of his cheeks as he smiled.

“yes,” you swore seriously with a smile that contrasted that no-nonsense tone, “really.” 

“i’d like to be the judge of that.” he said, his voice low and teasing and- god, you could listen to it forever.

“trust me, i’m not lying. i’ll bring some to work tomorrow, just remind me to actually bake them. i have such bad memory.” 

“and how exactly would i be able to remind you?” he tilted his head to one side slightly, a teasing glint in his eye like he could see where you were getting at, and was entertaining it. 

your heart was beating crazy fast, but it was time to finally make a move on this guy. the cash register flirting was simply not enough anymore. you hoped he felt whatever chemistry you were feeling too-- and that you weren't misreading things. then again, you almost failed the subject, so it wouldn't be surprising if you were still getting it wrong.

“why don’t i give you my number," you started, feeling your hands get clammy, ''and you could text me after my shift?” 

his dimples flashed a second time, his eyes doing another once over on you. okay, surely you couldn't misread that one.

you felt your cheeks get hot as he spoke once again, his voice so smooth and low that it fit perfectly with the serenity of the morning and café. “i think i’d like that very much, and that i'll be looking forward to tomorrow.” 

biting back a smile and ignoring the way your stomach erupted with seemingly a million butterflies , you somehow managed to say, “alright, then. i think i'd like it too.''

you wrote down your number on his receipt, ignoring the way your hands trembled with excitement and nervousness, drawing a little smiley face next to it.

holy shit, you were never like this. your heart raced as you watched his eyes find the bottom of the receipt and give you a tiny smile. you watched him sit down an his work laptop, then pull out his phone, type something in, and put it back in his suit's pocket.

ugh, you would break every rule and look at your phone right now, except you were on your last strike for using your phone in the middle of shifts, and you did not want to get fired from this little coffee shop for the sole reason of seeing that one blonde man every morning and having your usual banter. 

''wait,'' you called out, ''what are you going to do with the rest of the cookies? you said, ''don't tell me you'll throw those absolute delicacies away.'' you added jokingly, and grayson simply shook his head, looking down with a slight laugh with a single blonde strand of hair falling into his face.

''I'm keeping them for my younger brother,'' he replied, a fondness in his voice, ''he's quite something, with his extreme love for baked goods.''

you hummed in thought, suddenly realising this was the first time you'd heard about him having brothers. this was really the first conversation about anything that didn't involve small talk and café related things, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to continue learning more about him. getting to know eachother.

''I think those atrocious cookies will change that love he has,'' you mumbled under your breath without thinking as you shook your head.

you heard grayson chuckle, ''what was that?'' he teased.

''god, i'm gonna get myself fired. forget i said anything.'' you groaned as you covered your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up again.

''that would prove very difficult,'' he replied smoothly as you put your hands back down. ''I find it near impossible to forget anything you say to me.''

if you thought your cheeks were heated a few seconds ago, they were blazing now. you averted your gaze for a quick second, but his gaze didn't leave yours.

chuckling slightly, you managed to speak without stumbling. "should i start worrying about all my bad jokes being permanently filed away?"

"bad jokes?" he quipped, "i've yet to hear one from you.'' he did not let up on his charm for a single moment, a laugh escaping your lips before he resumed. ''but if you insist, i’ll let you know when you make your first."

'''I'll see you tomorrow, then?''

you nodded, muttering a small 'bye' as you watched grayson step out of the café, the sound of the door chiming behind him.

the anticipation was unbearable, and despite knowing you were on thin ice with your manager, your hand inched toward your phone on the counter.

a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed no one was watching. you unlocked your phone, heart racing as you checked your notifications.

there it was—a new text, well, one from about 10 minutes ago.

Unknown Number:

Already counting down to tomorrow. 🙃 Don’t forget those cookies you talk of, I'm holding you to it.

you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you quickly saved the number, your hands trembling slightly. you almost let out a snort as his emoji choice before typing, glancing again to make sure the coast was clear.

you

i definitely won’t be forgetting now that you've texted I just may be looking forward to tomorrow too 🫣

you were thankful the place was practically empty, because surely you looked like a crazy person, smiling to yourself. you set the phone back down, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you. the day suddenly didn’t feel quite so long anymore.

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[g4rvez-r3id]

The Holiday: Part One

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You and a random woman online do a home-exchange for the holidays after a hasty breakup with your boyfriend. You’re enjoying the quaint little cottage you’re currently staying at in D.C. when all of a sudden, a strange man is knocking at your door. The man claims he’s the brother of the woman’s place you’re currently staying at and needs a place to stay for the night since he’s had far too much to drink. One thing leads to another and well… things get complicated from there.

Category: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: meet cute, reader just went through a breakup, mentions of alcohol cosumption, a lil ooc!spencer? post-prison spencer reid, spencer has a sister named caroline for the sake of the plot, spencer is a cheeky little shit, kissing, smut warnings: soft!dom spencer, titty sucking, fingering, cunnilingus, whimpering (spencer reid core), a lil dirty talk, riding, uses of ‘darling’ and ‘angel’, creampie— that should cover it!

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so i was watching “The Holiday” the other night and it had me thinking: i could see this happening with Spencer Reid hehehe so here’s what my brain conjured up! it’s going to be following the plot of the movie but ofc things are gonna be a bit different! also, happy holidays and merry christmas! i hope y’all do like this hehe <3

It was snowing in D.C.. You’d never actually experienced snow before, considering you actually lived in L.A., where the sun was shining 24/7. It was a big leap from the weather in California, that was for sure.

But you didn’t mind. Mid-December, you expected the weather to be the way it was now, snowing and icy. And you pretty much liked it. You felt more at home out here than you did back in L.A.. And the more you thought about it, what did you really have back at home anyway?

You’d just broken up with your long-time boyfriend, who cheated on you with his assistant. And after verbally admitting to it and fighting with him about it, you’d kicked him out. (As you rightfully should). But after the interaction with him, you’d realized he was right about one thing. That one thing being that you always buried yourself in your work. And it’s not like it was easy not to get out of it, you were a writer, for God’s sake. You loved writing more than anything in the world, more than him. And he had an issue with that.

So, in spite of that, you’d decided that you needed a Christmas vacation. And you’d tried one of those home swap websites to find a place you could temporarily stay in for the holidays. And you’d found one belonging to a Caroline Reid.

You’d talked with her a little bit before deciding to agree to the home swap. You’d discovered she’d had a brother who also lived in D.C. and that he’d possibly pop in every now and again to see how things were going. Something about how he worked for the government and that he’d wanted to be sure that you were who you said you were and not some weird 40 year-old guy who stole underwear. You’d found out he was older and he was very protective of his sister and of course, you understood that. You almost wished you had a brother that was like that, but your apartment was in a gated community and it was pretty open. You’d also had an alarm system, knowing who was coming in and out of your community at all times.

So, you’d agree to the home swap for two weeks. Starting from the 16th of December to the 30th of December. The flight from L.A. to D.C. wasn’t long and you’d found the place alright.

A tiny cottage home that smelt of lavender and sea salt. The fireplace, looking as if it’s been used thoroughly, it’d felt oddly like home. Or at least a home you’d wanted growing up. You’d always been in L.A., never opting to go anywhere but home and this change was seemingly nice compared to your studio apartment in L.A., you suddenly felt bad for Caroline, having to leave such a beautiful home to gather at a studio apartment in L.A..

You’d taken a few days to get used to your surroundings, only leaving the cottage to go to the store and buy your snacks and sparkling cider for the night (since you hated wine). You only planned for night-in, watching whatever TV show was playing for the night. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep watching a re-run of The Nanny, cuddling up in a fetal position with the blanket you’d bought from home.

You were woken with a startle as you heard a banging on the door and you stood up quickly, looking around for anything in the room you could use as a weapon and opted for the giant book on the floor that could easily smack someone in the face and knock them unconscious if need be.

You walked down the stairs of the cottage and heard a voice outside followed by the banging. “Caroline? Caroline! Are you home?” The voice asked and you furrowed your brows and stupidly asked — “Who is it?” You dumbass! You’re not supposed to reveal that you’re home to the intruder! Unless that’s what the intruder wanted, you really need to stop listening to true crime podcasts.

“It’s me! Open the door!” The voice responded and you were beyond confused. “Hurry up! It's freezing.”

You hadn’t recognized the stranger’s voice and yet you continued to shoot yourself in the foot as you had asked again — “Who are you?”

“Caroline, open the door or I swear I'm gonna end up urinating all over your front porch—" You gasp, tossing the book on the couch and without even thinking, you open the door and in front of you is stood a tall man.

His chocolate brown hair pushed out from his neck, his stubble perfectly framed his face and his sharp jawline that looked like it could cut through glass. His perfectly plump, pink lips apart as he looks right at you, his hazel eyes gazing right at you in surprise. And all you can do is stare right back. He was dressed in a long black coat, black slacks and black loafers and a purple scarf around his neck to top it all off. He was kinda dressed as a professor now that you really looked at him, kinda looked like one too, the way he presented himself five seconds standing in the doorway.

And here you were, in patterned pajama bottoms, a white top and a grey cardigan, completely underdressed.

“Oh,” The man spoke. “You're not Caroline.” He turns towards you and crooks a small smile. “Or if you are, I'm much drunker than I realized. I'm so sorry. I-I wasn't expecting you.” His gaze never leaves your eyes as he backs away from the door for a moment.

“Well, I wasn't expecting you, either…” You trail off, not knowing what to call him. She’d probably settle for that attractive guy who used “urinating” instead of “taking a leak” on the front porch.

His eyes widen as he holds his hand out, “Oh, sorry! Uh, I’m… I’m Spencer Reid,” You take his hands going to shake his back. You can’t help but glance down at his hand, the veins on the back of it, making you gulp for a second. “Caroline’s brother.” He stated.

“Oh! Right!” You exclaim, totally forgetting that Caroline had informed you of her brother probably popping in every once in a while. She just didn’t happen to mention that he was hot! “I’m Y/n L/n, your sister informed me you’d be popping in sometimes.”

The man you now know as Spencer snaps his fingers and nods, “Yeah, forgive me, I’ve had a… bit too much to drink so it slipped my mind that she wouldn’t be here. My apologies. But do you mind if I… use the restroom?”

You flinch and back up so he can walk in the house, “Oh, of course! Come on in.” You probably shouldn’t have let him in. He could be a killer for all you know. It was something about him that just seemed… welcoming in a way.

He’d quickly gone into the bathroom downstairs and you’d spent a good minute fixing your hair to your liking so you could present yourself in a way. It wasn’t everyday a cute guy walked into your home (for the week at least), you wanted to at least look a little good.

“So, from what my sister has told me so far, she’s staying in L.A.?” He asks after he exits the bathroom and into the living room, where you find yourself doing anything but looking at him. “Yes, she’s staying at my studio apartment there. She, uh, listed this cottage on a home exchange website and I found it. We switched houses for two weeks for the holiday. So, I’m here and she’s… there.”

Spencer hums, “People actually do that?” You shrug in response, “Apparently.” Spencer looks at you and thinks to himself, “I just… I’m sorry, I told my sister that it could possibly be dangerous for her to do that and yet she’s just too stubborn. She’s like our mother in that way, it seems.” You nod at him, not knowing what to say to that.

There’s a brief silence before Spencer motions towards the couch. “I’m sorry, would you mind if I sat down? I, uh, was out tonight with my colleagues and I… I guess I’m feeling just a bit dizzy.” He tells.

“Oh, of course, go right ahead.” You tell and he plops on the couch and sits up, looking at you. “Also, again, I'm sorry about the intrusion. Although right now, I may not appear it, I am, in fact, Caroline’s respectable older brother. But on the rare — or I guess, lately not so rare — occasion that I frequent the O’Keefe’s and get inordinately drunk, my little sister puts up with me so I don't get behind the wheel.” He explains and you nod in understanding. “It’s a pathetic explanation, but, unfortunately, it's become a bit of a routine, really. I swear, I’m not usually like this but… yeah. Like I said, it slipped my mind that you’d be here instead of you, so… I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “Oh, no, you’re all good. I was just, uh, having my own little… girl’s night. I'm, um, not quite myself right now. I-I came here on a stupid whim, really.” Spencer nods at you as the silence fills the air once more.

“Oh, sorry, I’m a terrible host. Would you like something to drink? Glass of water? Tea? Sparkling cider, maybe?” You ask. “Uh, sure.” He nods and you nod back at him, going to the pantry to grab two glasses and fill the cups up with sparkling cider.

You walk back into the living room and hand him his cup, your pointer finger connecting to his for a split moment. “So, Y/n, is it?” He asks and you nod, “Yes, that’s me.”

He mumbled your name under his breath, seemingly like the way he said it. And you did, too. “So, Y/n, I assume you’re not married?” He asks and you furrow your brows — “Why? Do I look not married?” You chuckle awkwardly, wondering where this was going.

“No, it’s just…” He sits up more as he takes a sip of the sparkling cider. “I don’t know if my sister told you but I’m a profiler for the FBI and that means that I study human behavior and one thing I noticed about yours is that you seem to carry yourself pretty well so far. Your body language tensed and you got defensive when I assumed you weren’t married so I assume that’s a factor into your relationships and you don’t trust people often. But you let me in when I could’ve been a total stranger that’s lying to you, so I may be off my A-game here. It may also be the fact that your pupils dilated when you looked at me and you’re curling in on yourself, meaning you may find me attractive.” Your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen at that. Damn, he was good. “And that’s totally okay, I don’t know what you may see in me, but I’m flattered. And you’re also not wearing a wedding ring, but… by the fact that you said you’re not quite yourself at the moment and that you cowered and looked away for a second when you said that, I’m also assuming that you just got out of a relationship. Am I correct?”

You simply blink, completely dumbfounded at his whole “profiler” thing. You can’t help but stare and clear your throat and he can tell you’re uncomfortable with it. He shakes his head and shuts his eyes as if he’s in pain. But mostly he’s cringing because of what he said. “I’m sorry, I… I do this a lot. I just… ramble and ramble and ramble. I’m trying to be better at it, honest.”

You shake your head and shrug, “No, it’s okay.” You look at him. “You’re actually very spot on. Uh, I just broke up with someone. Before I left.” He nods at this. “He… cheated and well, my guard is back up. I came here to maybe… I don’t know, get a change of scenery for once? But now I’m realizing that I actually have no idea what I’m doing and well, I guess I just… feel alone in a way.” You realize you’ve just rambled about yourself and shake your head as he gawks at you and you chuckle it off, “Bet you're glad you knocked on this door.”

Spencer looks up at you, not laughing along with you but instead speaking softly, “I am, actually.” The way he said it made it seem like he actually meant it. You stare at him before looking down at your hands, playing with the loose thread on the ends of your cardigan.

“So,” Spencer spoke again. “Would it be alright if I stay? I'll be gone before you even wake up. I promise you will never lay eyes on me again. It might suck for you now that I think about it, considering you find me attractive.” He told and the heat rushes to your cheeks again.

“Okay, one: I do not find you attractive—” He interrupts you. “Funny how I brought it up before you didn’t deny this.”

“And two,” You continue. “It’s okay if you stay. I actually prefer it now that I know you’re not someone who wants to murder me.” Spencer nods at you, “Technically, you’re more likely to be murdered by someone you know so considering you’re not home at the moment, you’re safe.” He tightens his lips as he looks up at you.

You narrow your eyes at the man and study him, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a strange man?” Spencer thinks about it for a moment, “A lot, actually, yeah.” You purse your lips in a smile and catch yourself gazing at his hands again as he places the glass cup back on the table.

“Uh, let me get you a blanket.” You offer and suddenly you feel like an idiot because you don’t even know where the extra blankets are. And judging by your face, Reid can tell you don’t know where they are either. “Oh, uh, in the cupboard on the left.” He tells and you nod at him, going towards the cupboard you see surely enough on the left and of course, there are blankets inside. He’s probably been there often to know where the blankets are. Of course, he does, he’s Caroline’s hot older brother.

You walk back in the living room and see that he’s standing and he’s holding his hand out to grab the blanket from you. Somehow, you must’ve lost your footing because you ended up tripping over the carpet and into Spencer’s arms. “Here you go— whoa!”

You were lucky that he acted quick, otherwise you would’ve landed on your face but instead you landed on the plush of his chest. “Whoa! You okay?” He asks softly and you look up at him, considering he’s way taller than you. He gazed into your eyes and you his and you could see up closer that his eyes had a little green in them.

The way he held you in his arms for a moment, like you would break if he gripped your arms harder. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to escape from his grasp. And without even thinking, he leaned closer and pecked your lips. The kiss was soft, simple, like he almost didn’t mean to do it.

Spencer closed his eyes as he winced, realizing that he shouldn��t have done that — but God, you wanted him to do that again. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Uh, good night.”

He begins to slug back to the couch but you grab him by his bicep. He may look a little lanky but his bicep is strong and firm. What you would do to get him to hold you in his arms and just— whoa. Don’t get there, brain.

You suddenly find yourself speaking and chuckling awkwardly as you loosen your grip on his arm a bit. “Do you think you could...” You close your eyes and correct yourself. “Would you mind, um, trying that again?”

Without another word, Spencer tries again and this time, he lingers and the kiss spurs off fireworks in your head. He pulls away and all you want to do is dig your fingers in his messy mane and never let your lips leaves his until it becomes a chore to breathe.

But you frown for a moment and find yourself pondering. What the hell are you doing? Spencer seems to notice this and tilts his head to meet your eyes.

“Bad?” He asks. “Weird.” You correct and chuckle to yourself once more, “Kissing a total stranger.”

“Really?” Spencer asks. “I do it all the time.” You look at him. Of course he’s experienced in this. I mean, look at him!

“Here, let me try.” You take a deep breath and kiss his lips and halfway through the kiss, you realize your eyes are open the entire time. It’s probably because of the fact that you didn’t want to miss a second of it. And honestly, who could blame you?

Spencer backs away after the kiss and you scrunch your eyebrows together as you realize that was kind of an awkward kiss. “Maybe if I closed my eyes.” You say and Spencer nods, “That’d probably be best.”

You do so, close your eyes that is and Spencer looks over your features and decides to try something himself. Carefully, he places his oddly cold hands around your cheeks and leans in, ghosting his lips over yours as he breathes into your face and you feel his lips kiss your cheek and the area near your nose and suddenly, you feel warmth way below as he finally kisses you on the lips.

His cold hands contrasted with your warm cheeks and you feel shaken with pleasure and you look deep into his eyes once you open yours and he already watching you.

“You know, given that I'm in a bit of a personal crisis and I find myself in a total stranger's home and also considering that you showed up and you're, like, insanely good-looking and you probably remember me anyway, I'm thinking… we should have sex.” You offer and his eyes widen at your forwardness.

You’re not usually like this. You’re never this forward and you’d never suggest this to a total stranger but there was something he inhabited that you just found sexy. And you wouldn’t care of the consequences and you didn’t really know him so you didn’t need to date him to secure your needs, you just needed a release from the stress you’d been under the past few days. Dealing with publishers for your newest book, scheduling interviews among interviews, the whole thing that happened with your now ex-boyfriend. This could be good and it’s not like you’re entirely desperate. All you really need is something.

“If-If you want,” You clarify, hoping to God you didn’t just freak this man out into not staying at his sister’s place for the night. “Just say the word, I can go lock myself back up in my room for the night and we can pretend this never happened.”

Spencer chuckles to himself and he looks at you as he quirks an eyebrow upwards, “Is that a trick question?” He asks. But you look at him, dead in the face and he can already tell you’re being serious about this.

“No, I'm being honest. And not that this matters, but I've never said anything like that in my entire life before.” You tell. “It's just that this whole knowing that I'll never see you again thing is kind of exciting. I mean, this is what a vacation's supposed to be, right? You're supposed to vacate your life, do the unexpected, and you are definitely unexpected.”

Spencer smiles a bit as he shakes his head, “You’re making me feel cheap here.” He said and you laugh along with him once you realize he found it funny. You pull a strand of hair behind your ear as you add on, “You're funny, which is also like a bonus. In my book.”

Spencer leans forward, wanting to kiss you once more but you push on his chest a bit as you add, “Are you sure you’re going to be stable enough for this? I know you said you’d had a couple of drinks tonight.” Spencer smiles a bit, admiring your chivalry and not wanting to take advantage of him when all he wants to do is take advantage of you. He also finds it sweet, not wanting to do it when he’s vulnerable but he’d only had two drinks tonight and well, he can be a lightweight sometimes.

“Trust me, angel, I sobered up as soon as I saw you.” He spoke and your heart skipped a beat when you heard him say ‘angel’. Your cheeks are probably heating up again.

You smile and he leans in, kissing you once more. But you push him away once more and start talking once more. “Oh, also, I should warn you.” He looks at you in wonderment. “I’m… I'm not very good at this.”

He furrows his brows as he asks, “This being?” You look at him and blurt out — “Sex.”

Spencer scoffs as he looks at you up and down. “Okay, now that cannot be true. Who told you that?” He asks.

“The guy that I was dating, uh, mentioned it once or twice and a girl does not forget a comment like that.” Spencer leans forward to kiss you again, possibly just to shut you up but it really doesn’t work because you back away and continue, “I mean, how bad could I be? I mean, sex is pretty basic, right?” You look his way and scrunch your nose together, “Have I talked you out of this yet?”

He shakes his head endearingly and gazes at you. He must think you’re a mess, that he couldn’t possibly sleep with you because you were just “too much”. You’d been told that your whole life. But internally, he finds it oddly assuring that he’s not the only rambler here. He actually kind of like it. It’s not something he’s used to from someone else, mostly because he’s always the rambler.

“Strangely, not at all,” Spencer answers and then looks down for a moment. “Let me ask you this,” He licks his lips. “How do you feel about foreplay?”

Your heart stops and suddenly you’re looking anywhere but him now and you shake your head, “Uh…” You don’t really know how to respond to that.

His eyes widen, “Have you… not—?” You shrug, “I have, it’s just…” You pause. “It wasn’t great. The guy I was with… he didn’t like doing it and well, I’ve spared myself from dealing with that because most guys don’t know what the hell they’re doing down there half the time so… I guess I just… haven’t done it.”

Spencer’s lips part and he’s shocked at the discovery. He’s in complete shock of the fact that you’ve never really done it with a guy that knew what he was doing. It was completely baffling to him. Who wouldn’t want to? You were gorgeous and from what he gathered in the short time, you were also amazing. And by the way you made yourself feel small, somebody else did that to you. And his heart broke for you.

“That guy that you were with?” Spencer began. “I think he’s a real loser because a real man would like that.” You find your cheeks heating up again. “Y/n, you are quickly becoming one of the most interesting girls I've ever met.”

You smirk as you finalize your decision and stand up, sultry walking towards the stairs and looking back at him and find that his gaze has gone towards your ass. “Look at you,” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as he narrows his orbs at you. “You're already better than you think.”

With that, he stands, following you to your room and as soon as you close the door, he’s on you. His lips capture yours and you moan as his hand makes its’ way down your stomach and then in between your thighs.

You whimper in his mouth as he sticks his hand in your pajama bottoms and through the waistband of your underwear as he rubs the point where you need him the most. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my hands earlier.” He says into your neck and your eyes roll to back of your head.

“Spencer…” You moan into the air and his lips are all over your neck as he then picks you up and lays you down gently on the bed, like you were fragile and needed to be handled with care.

His lips travel from your neck to your chest as he opens up your cardigan and reveals your breasts covered by your top. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra. He pulls your top down and exposes your boobs — to which he fondles one of them and begins to suck on your nipple. His hand travels farther as he sticks a finger inside your hole as you gasp out — “Oh, my God!”

The stimulation, plus the fact that he’s sucking on your boob right now makes you want to cum. “I want you to cum like this for me, please.” You’d do anything for him so you will your body to give in and to release.

You feel your core throb as you came hard around his fingers and whine as he pulls his fingers out. He sucks on your juice off his slender fingers and you stare at him, like he’s an angel of sorts. He is an angel. And how you wish he could be your angel.

“You okay, sweet girl?” He asks softly and all you can do is nod at him. “We can stop here if you want to.” You shake your head, pulling him by his crooked tie and say — “Oh, darling, we are just getting started.”

With a smile, he kisses you once more and you both begin to take off each other’s clothes. You help him take off his dress shirt and slacks as he helps you out of your cardigan, top and pajama bottoms. Suddenly, you’re both naked in the bed and he turns his gaze down to your dripping pussy.

He looks at you with lust-filled eyes and asks, “May I?” You just nod but that’s not enough for him. “I need words.” You nod again but this time you add a meek — “Yes.”

He smiles as he gazes down. “I’m gonna take good care of you, sweet girl.” You watch as he slowly goes down and his hot breath fans over your pussy lips before he dives in for a kitten lick. You shudder and he quickly notices this with a sly chuckle, “You’re shaking. And I’ve hardly touched you.”

You moan, not wanting him to draw this out any longer than you want him to and he smiles, he could tell you want this. He could tell you need this. And goddamn it, he’s gonna prove to you that you’ve gone too far without this and you’re not going to keep going long without it so long as he could help it.

His mouth wraps around your clit, drawing figure-8s with your tongue and suck as he does so. You find yourself gripping the sheets hard as he continues to go down on you. “Fuck,” You deliciously mutters into your pussy. “You’re so sweet,” He drawls. “Your ex is a fucking loser if he thinks that this is a waste of time because darling, you are exquisite.”

You feel every moan into your pussy he’s making as you look down at the sight and your eyes connect to his and all of a sudden, you’re cumming once more. You shake in his hold as you close your eyes in pleasure as he stays in your sweet nectar until you’re done.

He looks up at you, as if he’s mesmerized by the sight itself of you releasing. You look back down at him and see his eyes, still blown with lust and reach down to run your fingers through his hair. By the doozy look in your eyes, he can tell you really enjoyed that. “Did I do okay?” He asks with a small smile and you chuckle as you look towards the ceiling. “That was…” You take a sharp breath. “Wow.”

Spencer laughs a bit as he climbs up your body and leans over you. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” And that’s when you turn your body around so that you’re over him now. “Oh, trust me. There is.”

You maintain eye contact with Spencer pump a few strokes on his cock before settling his head towards your entrance. “And you’re still okay with this?” You ask, a whiny tone sheltering your voice and Spencer swears he might cum on the spot just with you doing that. “Oh, I’m very okay with it.”

“Yeah?” You look down but only for a moment to guide himself into you and you rest your hands on his shoulders as you sink down into him. He throws his head back in pleasure as you finally feel all of him and you feel so full.

His cock throbs in your wet pussy and he gasps out — “Oh, you feel so fucking… perfect, angel.” You bite your lip to hold back your moans as you begin to move yourself up and down on him, rocking your hips to you liking and his hands rest on your thighs, gripping them tightly, holding you up against him.

“How do you feel, angel?”

“So f-full.”

“That ex-boyfriend wouldn’t know what to do with a perfect pussy like yours.”

His forwardness made your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to thrust hard into you with his cock.

“Where do you want it, angel?” He grunts and you know that it’d be too intimate, to have him mark you, claim your body, paint your insides with his cum but you’d been so far gone, you basically begged him to cum — “In-Inside.”

“Oh, you want it inside?” Spencer asks and you nod, biting your lip hard. “You want me to breed you? To claim you? Because I will.” His words send you over the edge as you work yourself on his cock even harder. “Cum for me, darling. Please.” A whine escapes his lips and you finally feel a coil snap inside of you as you cum for the third time tonight on his cock.

You feel a warmth inside as he paints your insides and you collapse again his body as you both pant. He feels your hot breath on his neck as he holds you close to him, his hand sprawled out on your back as he rubs your flesh, as if he’s somehow calming you down from your high.

Your eyes are closed but you feel as Spencer carefully pulls out of you (and he watches as his cum drips from your pussy and he’s mesmerized by the sight of it) and sets you down next to him, holding you to his chest and keeping you there. You feel his heart rate beginning to slow as you rest your head on his chest.

“Wow,” You start. “That was…” You take a deep breath. “Exciting.”

Spencer looks down at you and he furrows his brows, “I gave you three orgasms and that was just… exciting?” You can hear the smirk in his voice and you look up at him, “Okay, it was…” You ponder on a word. “Spectacular… hot… sexy.”

“Spec-hot-exy,” You form a word. “Is that good enough for you?” He shakes his head at you as he chuckles. “Are you okay?” He asks and you nod, “Yeah, I’m perfect.”

“Okay,” He says, sitting up. “Don’t get too comfortable because you do need to pee and we do need to clean you up. I just had sex in my sister’s bed and I know she’s gonna kill me for it.” He helps you up, steadying you as he walks you towards the bathroom and cleans you up.

And as he does so, you stare. And you just keep staring because even though this was a one-night thing, you can’t help but wonder what it may be like to actually be with him. Would he still be this gentle? Would he still be this caring? Because this would be enough to make a girl fall in love. And if Cupid heard your thoughts, he’d shoot another arrow just to make you even more head over heels than you are now. But you shouldn’t be thinking what you’re thinking, not at all. You just broke up with someone for Christ’s sake. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun while you were still in D.C..

After the holidays, you could go about your life, forgetting who this man was and just remembering him as the guy that just appeared at your doorstep and wowed you into sleeping with him. You were never gonna see him again, why not have a little fun while you were here?

You weren’t sure if this would end with anyone getting hurt, but all you knew is that you’d take advantage of the time you’d have, here and now.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

ALL I WANT 4 CHRISTMAS .ᐟ

What are the jjk & aot boys doing this Christmas season?

Somehow, mistletoe is left in his wake like a trail of breadcrumbs. Nobody knows exactly how he acquired all of this, but as he continues to swerve the advances of anyone else he meets under the green and red decoration, his intent grows more clear. There's also a mysterious bundle of it in his pocket, which he explains as his "just in case" backup. Before you knew it he was taking you by the hand and leading you through the house, much less subtle at scanning the doorways above than he thinks. At first you're oblivious, wondering if someone had spiked his eggnog or something of the sort, but no. When he halts abruptly and you follow his gaze upwards, every oddity of his behaviour makes much more sense.

"Would you look at that? Mistletoe. Wonder how that got there."

You can still feel his proud grin against your lips, even after he kisses you.

⤷ Satoru, Jean

He’s lounging on the sidelines, eyeing you over the rim of his mug as you enjoy the winter day, unaware of his lingering eyes. The hot chocolate sears his tongue, but he can't find it in himself to react. How could he care, when you're laughing across the room? What was so funny? What was so special about those people that prevented you from talking to him? He's got plenty of other people gabbing in his ear, they always end up flocking to him, as odd as it seems. He only feigns interest in their words, but if it were you, he'd hold on to every syllable like they were life's greatest treasure. he'd take note of every shift, of every breath you took. But for now you were across the room and all he could do was stare, frozen in place.

⤷ Suguru, Eren, Toji

Ah, yes. The personification of Christmas, your very own worker elf at your side. Clad in a ridiculously festive sweater and some reindeer antlers, Santa Claus might as well have thrown up on him. You're sure that if it weren't for you, he'd be wrapped in Christmas lights and singing carols on doorsteps. "It's holiday spirit! Don't you like Christmas?" he'd say. He makes you out to be some sort of grump, but you know deep down that he's just a total dork.

⤷ Toge, Yuji, Connie

Your boy isn't one for grand gestures, he never has been. Even around the holiday season, his love is quiet; soft. His chunky sweater wrapped around your shoulders, a steaming mug in your hands because he noticed you were chilly. A batch of sugar cookies made just for you, icing of your favourite colour decorating the tops. A pretty little box with a ribbon tied into a bow (or at least it was supposed to be) atop it, even though you made him promise not to go out of his way more than he already has. He just can't help himself. A photo snapped of you when you're looking particularly docile, just for safe keeping. He looks at his little album of you when you're apart, but he doesn't tell you that part. His affection is a collection of small sweetness, like a box of trinkets filled with the little things you hold dearest to your heart.

⤷ Yuta, Armin

He’s doing all of the sappiest things without even realizing it. Who would expect this big, beefy oaf of a man to be so whipped? “Yeah, those decorations are really pretty. I’d rather look at you, though.” “Sorry for staring, baby. You just look so pretty. If you were the only present under the tree I wouldn’t mind.” He’s buying you reindeer plushies just because they’re cute, and when he gives them to you his eyes shine with something so sweet it’s hard to believe it’s him. So you take them, you accept all of it, every little thing teetering on the fence of cute and corny, because maybe that’s what love does to you.

⤷ Reiner, Choso

You know how I said Toge, Connie, and Yuji are the personification of Christmas? Yeah, he’s the grinch. No, he doesn’t need another candy cane. No, please don’t turn up the radio, if he hears another Mariah Carey song he might implode. It would be easier to hide his disdain if you weren’t so adamant, so pushy for him to “get in the spirits.” Get that damn hat away from him, he tells you he won’t allow himself to be subjected to your childish antics. But when the festive shine in your eyes dulls ever so slightly, when you retreat with a defeated huff, he doesn’t know what changes. He doesn’t understand why, but he knows he doesn’t like it. So he tugs you back with an annoyed huff, grumbling under his breath as he falls victim to your will. He always ends up doing that, somehow. Always ends up at your mercy, even though if it were anyone else he’d have blocked them out long ago.

⤷ Megumi, Levi, Sukuna

He seems like something straight out of a hallmark movie. Okay, maybe he isn’t as cheerful as your picture perfect husband, waltzing around like Buddy the Elf. Maybe he’s got that passive expression on his face, the one that’s just barely grown easier to read over the years you’ve grown to know him. But he’s cooking you meals and massaging your back, he’s sliding you his card over the kitchen counter before he leaves for work and telling you to do something nice for yourself. He doesn’t care, as long as he gets to see the results; see how happy they make you. He trusts you, he trusts that you’re just as his as he is yours, and that means all of his work benefits him just as much as you. Because he gets to see your face light up, see the subtle curl of your lips with every act of service, and knowing he’s the only one is well enough for him.

⤷ Kento, Erwin

a/n — I wrote this randomly at 4am because one of my mutuals asked if I was doing a Christmas special. Yes apparently I am. Also Gojo fit a few of these but I decided on that one :3 I was thinking about doing more fandoms but I’m not 100% confident in my characterizations for hq, hxh (been a HOT minute since I’ve watched), etc. so aot and jjk it is <3 most people are only here for jjk anyway so

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

June Part VII

~

So so grateful for all of you who love this story even when I take forever to post!! Happy holidays to all <3 <3

~

No, there's nothin' you can

send me, my own true

love

There's nothin' I'm wishin'

To be ownin'

Just to carry yourself

Back to me unspoiled

From across that

Lonesome ocean

~

Remus ran down the cottage’s porch steps and threw his arms around Lily. It was easy to lose service out at the lake, and he’d last talked to her at the coffee shop he’d always stopped at halfway through the drive from Gryffindor. He had a beloved photograph of Sirius and Julian sitting at an outside table there, the first time Sirius had come to the lake. He’d tried his best to specifically explain the forks and bends in the roads to Lily, but it was still a relief to see them getting out of their car.

“You made it,” Remus said into her shoulder.

“Sure did. Wow. This is the cutest.” Lily gave Remus one more squeeze before pulling back. She pushed her sunglasses into her hair and smiled up at the cabin. “J, look.”

“Hold on, you know this buckle hates me.”

Remus squinted against the sun to see James with his entire upper body in the backseat of the car. When he emerged, he was red-faced and holding Harry—who was already squirming towards Sirius. The slight delay of James closing the car door was even too much for him. Harry burst into tears, then abruptly stopped as Sirius jogged down the porch steps and scooped him away from James. Remus couldn’t make out what Sirius said to him, but he could read the broad smile on his face just fine.

“Oh, it is cute, for sure,” James said. He had his hands on his hips, and maybe a few cheerios in his hair, as he looked over the cottage, then Sirius. “Yeah, hi, good to see you, too, friend.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sirius said appeasingly, but held a hand out for James to clap and bring their shoulders together. “How was the drive?”

“Very pretty.” James shaded his eyes to look down the stone pathway that offered a glimmering sliver of the lake. He whistled. “That looks inviting.”

Lily brought Remus’ attention back to her with a squeeze to his hands. “How are you, Lupin? Feeling almost married?”

“More almost each day.” Remus wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come in, we’ve got lunch.”

Maybe Remus shouldn’t have been surprised when Julian and Harry took to each other immediately. Harry couldn’t do much, but he could giggle at whatever Julian was doing and take the small pieces of food Julian held out to him. He could sit in the waves while Julian safe-guarded him against any bigger swells caused by a passing boat. If his mom squeezed his hand when she caught Remus watching them one day with his sunglasses firmly hiding his damp eyes, well, that was fine.

James and Sirius took to each other, too, even after just a short time apart. There was lots of football and jumping off the raft to catch flying passes. Remus didn’t mind. With his parents reading in the shade of the lake-facing porch up above and Julian entertaining Harry a few paces away, he basically had Lily to himself, which almost never happened.

“This is heaven,” she said. “Like, it’s more heaven than a tropical resort or something. I mean, the house is right there, it’s way cooler and less humid than some island, and I have you to make me a drink.”

Remus smiled. “I’m glad you like it here.”

“Would I ever have seen this place if you hadn’t started playing?”

“You? Yeah, if you wanted. Everyone else? Probably not if I never got with Sirius.”

She nodded slowly, turning the ice cubes that clinked against her cup. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, and she had a large, floppy hat shading her face. Remus reached forward and lifted the brim with two fingers.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I was just thinking about…I don’t know. James has been down about losing the season like this. And maybe—” Lily flipped the brim up and turned to him. Her green eyes were the clear color of the lake. “Okay, I forgot after winning the Cup last year about how every summer’s beginning was like…It’s like they forget they’re good at their jobs. And that it’s going to be okay. And this year…It’s just back. James has been so hard on himself.” She sighed. “And probably losing Logan made it even harder, but he’s been down.” She looked back out at the water. Slowly, a smile crossed her face. “I don’t know. I’m rambling. But look at those lunatics out there. It’s just nice to see him smile.”

Remus nodded. Sirius and James were treading water near the raft. Their voices carried across the water, though he couldn’t make out their words. He didn’t need to. James made Sirius laughed so hard that his head disappeared under the water for a second before he surfaced again, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes.

“Ugh, the cutest,” Lily said.

Remus watched Sirius splutter and toss the football at James’ head. “Hm, yeah.”

“Okay, yeah, but I meant those two.” Lily held up her phone towards Julian and Harry. “Boys! Over here!”

“How do you want us?” James shouted over the water. He already had his arm around Sirius’ shoulders, grinning and ready for a photo.

“Not you,” Lily said, waving Sirius and James off.

“No, no,” Remus laughed and reached for his own phone. “Stay like that.”

Julian pointed at Lily so Harry would look, then tickled him into another grin. James wrapped both of his arms around Sirius and pulled like he was trying to lift him up, startling Sirius into a laughing one in his own.

The sight tightened Remus’ throat. He almost forgot to take the picture as he stared over the edge of his sunglasses instead.

“Did you do it?” Sirius called, then pushed James down again into the water.

Remus nodded, flashing a thumbs up.

“Anyway,” Lily sighed. “When does Logan play? James with his little hockey-pout face wants to watch.”

“Rangers are up against the Lightning tonight,” Remus said. “And yeah. I don’t think Sirius has fully realized Tremz isn’t a Lion anymore. I mean, really. Like, even less realization than Finn and Leo.”

“Yeah, those two cubs seem to be doing better.”

“Mhm,” Remus said. “I hope so.”

“Mais, non, non—” A shout of laughter came from the water, and a fast flow of French that got garbled as Sirius did a cannonball off the raft and caught the football. Remus didn’t know what the rules of their game were, but James, floating nearby, wiped the water from his eyes and looked devastated.

Remus leaned forward, digging his cup into the sand. Sirius surfaced again with the football held high. He shook his soaking hair out of his face, threw his head back, and whooped. It traveled to them over the waves, through the sound of sifting sand and Harry’s babbling. Sirius dunked his head again, and his dark hair plastered back from his face. The smile was still in place. Remus knew all about the down of a poorly ended season. In college, getting knocked out early and having to go to classes with that weight on his chest had felt like hell for the first two weeks. And Sirius Black didn’t do just down. He did devastated and punishing. He did end of the world and hard work and nextyearnextyearnextyear.

But there he was. In Remus’ lake, laughing like—

“Re?”

“Yeah,” Remus whispered. He tore his eyes away, looking at her. “Sorry, sorry, yeah?”

Lily had her hat flipped back again. He was watching him carefully with a small smile on her face.

“Sorry I didn’t hear what you said,” Remus said. “I…”

“That’s all right.” Lily leaned forward, too, checking on Harry once when he let out a loud shriek, before turning back to him. “What’s up?”

“He doesn’t always…” Remus passed his fingers over his mouth, over a smile. “It’s kind of like what you said about James. About summer. But it’s also the opposite. Sirius…He doesn’t always laugh like that.”

If there was anything Remus knew, it was Sirius Black’s face. He knew it guarded, and he knew it open.

“Like a little kid’s laugh,” Remus said softly.

“Pretty deep for a little kid.”

Remus grinned at her. “No, like—”

Lily put a soft hand on his arm. “I’m joking, Re. You’re right.” She squeezed his fingers and let go. “It is. It is nice. I mean…You were there. Before.” She shut one eye against the sun. “Did you love him then?”

“Love? No. Want? Maybe. Mostly I just…I don’t know why because he was fucking mean to me…” He smiled. “But I—no, really. You were there. He was so stubborn. Honest to God, I don’t think he trusted me until his ankle.”

“He’s Sirius Black,” Lily said. “I don’t think he was raised to be trusting.”

“That’s why I like hearing that laugh,” Remus said. “Fuck, Lils, I love that laugh.”

The boys were swimming in now. Julian had Harry in his lap and was waving at them.

“Good thing you’re getting that laugh for life, then.” Lily held up her drink. “To good laughs for a good life.”

Remus picked up his own drink. “Oh yeah, you’ve got one of your own.” He clinked his glass to Lily’s, sand sprinkling between them. “To good laughs for a good life.”

Lily flipped her hat back down. “Okay, okay, before we cry, let’s watch their abs appear from the water.”

“Oh, for sure.”

~

Maybe it was a slight miscalculation on Finn and Leo’s part to walk Logan to Madison Square Garden for his third game against the Lightning, but if there was anything that was worth getting a few good-natured heckles for losing their series, it was watching the Rangers fans waiting at the players’ entrance absolutely fawn over Logan.

Really, for Finn, it was watching fans fawn over Logan while Logan held on tightly to Leo’s hand. It was holding Logan’s bag for him while he…signed a man’s body.

“You really want me to sign…” Logan was staring apprehensively at a shoulder a man was offering him. “For a tattoo?”

“Don’t mess up,” Leo said, then grinned at Logan’s pleading eyes. “Just saying.”

“yeah, yeah,” the man said, grinning. “Just your signature and number. Please. Thank you.”

“Aha,” Finn said, holding up a finger. “Which number?”

“Oh, ten,” the man said hurriedly. “Please. I’m a firm believer that you’ll be back to ten some day.”

Logan looked at Finn.

“Would you look at that,” Finn said.

Smiling, Logan took a breath and uncapped the Sharpie. “D’accord.”

He signed his name and number more slowly than he usually would have, tongue peaking out in concentration. 

“Tongue, tongue,” Finn whispered, nudging his elbow into Leo’s side.

“Shh…” Leo was trying hard not to smile.

Logan had had to let go of Leo’s hand to hold the man steady, and Leo wandered closer to Finn, slinging an arm around his shoulders. Others were taking videos, and Finn felt some of the cameras train on them once Logan had finished signing. He flicked his sunglasses down over his eyes, half because he knew he needed to take it easy on direct sunlight for a while yet, and half so he could just stare at Logan all he wanted while he slipped his arm around Leo’s waist.

“Okay?” Leo whispered back, settling his hand over Finn’s.

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Just taking it easy.”

“There you go.” Logan sucked air through his teeth, surveying his work, then laughed and capped the pen.

“Thank you,” the man said, bending to look. “Thanks so much.”

Finn would have thought the guy’s enthusiasm was a little over the top, but he could pinpoint at least a couple times in his life when he would have gladly let Logan Tremblay write all over him.

“Thanks, guys,” Logan said with a wave. He looked back at Leo and Finn. “Ready?”

Finn hitched Logan’s bag more over his shoulder. “Lead on, Ten.”

Finn saw the way Logan’s shoulders relaxed once they reached the elevator, away from prying eyes. He held out his hand to Finn. “You really didn’t have to carry my bag for me. Feels like you’re dropping me off at class.”

“Should have packed you a lunch,” Leo said.

Logan took his bag, shouldered it, and stepped into Leo’s space. “What would be in my lunch?”

“Oh, the usual,” Leo said. “Turkey sandwich, apple slices, a cookie…” Leo slid his hands around Logan’s waist. “A note telling you that I can’t wait for you to get home so…” The rest was lost to Finn as Leo bent and whispered into Logan’s ear.

It was all right that he didn’t hear. He got to watch Logan sway into him like Leo had hooked his very heart and pulled.

“See you for your nap,” Leo said sweetly. He tucked his hands behind his back and gave Logan a quick kiss.

Logan narrowed his eyes at Leo as he put a hand on Finn’s chest, twisting his t-shirt in his fist. Okay, fine, Finn was hooked, too. “Yeah, if I nap.”

Finn wrapped Logan up in a short hug, knotting his fingers in his hair. “Hey Tremblay…Sign my ass.”

Logan pulled back, shoving Finn away. But he was smiling, brighter than Finn had ever thought any of them would be able to do in this place.

“Game three,” Finn said. “You got this.”

They watched the elevator doors close, Logan leaning over to see them until he was just one green eye. Until he couldn’t anymore. They waved off the remaining fans when they walked back to the street level. Finn made straight for the subway—he didn’t want to be in this traffic hell Midtown longer than he had to. Leo followed him closely, their knuckles brushing until Finn hooked their little fingers together, then took his hand.

“So, what’d you whisper?”

Leo’s laugh echoed off the tiles as they descended the stairs underground. “Maybe you’ll find out later.”

“I hope so.” Finn let Leo through to the platform first, then went through himself. “Alex always dared me to jump these, and I never could. Lo did it once. First time he came home to the city with me.”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “That stray freshman puppy you found did that?”

Finn grinned, putting his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “He was trying to impress me. He just didn’t know it yet. Spent the rest of the time waiting for the train looking over his shoulder all nervous.”

“Okay, that’s more like him.” As the train began to pull into the station, a rush of air that did absolutely nothing to break the heat ruffled Leo’s hair. Leo nudged a toe of his sneaker against Finn’s. “Hey, where you taking me?”

Finn reached out and touched the blond strands, then settled a hand against Leo’s cheek. “Surprise.”

Leo wrinkled his nose. “I’m sweaty, sorry.”

“Like that’s ever bothered me.”

As the doors opened and Finn shuffled them inside, he caught Leo eyeing the pole distastefully.

“Hang onto me instead,” Finn said, taking Leo’s hands and placing them on his waist.

“And what are you gonna hold onto?”

“My New Yorker feet.”

Leo rolled his eyes but squeezed his hips. “Twenty bucks say you fall.”

“Not with you holding onto me.”

Leo eyed him until the doors slid shut with a ding and the train lurched forward. Finn balanced like he’d been doing his whole life, easing them both into the train’s rocking and jolting with his hands on Leo’s hips. He tilted his forehead down to Leo’s and winked.

“All right, city-boy. Now really,” Leo said, their lips brushing. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere,” Finn replied. “But don’t worry. We’ll be home in time for me to buy you take-out and watch baby play.”

Finn led them back onto street level when they reached uptown. The sun felt brighter up here, with Central Park relieving some of the crowded, hot feeling that the buildings gave out. Sweat shone on Leo’s temples as he put his sunglasses on.

“Hmm,” Leo said. “Okay. Interesting.”

“You game to walk across the park?” Finn asked. “Because we’re walking across the park.”

“I’m game for anything. But I have one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I want to make out under a tree on our way.”

Finn closed his eyes and turned into Leo. He kissed the salty skin of his neck. “That’s not a condition. That’s a reward.”

“You’re walking with your eyes closed.”

Finn smiled and opened them. He brought Leo’s hand up to kiss. “Sometimes feeling you and seeing you at the same time are just too much.”

He liked the way it made Leo stare at him. He slapped a hand against Finn’s chest, but kept it there. “Shut up.”

“Pick a spot.”

Leo looked forward. They weren’t in short supply. There were baseball diamonds just ahead of them and The Great Lawn beyond that, speckled with picnic blankets and kids running around.

“C’mon,” Leo said. “Let’s get your pretty little head out of the sun.”

Leo jogged ahead, but Finn didn’t mind. He stopped when he found a dappled spot of shade and waited for Finn there, spreading his arms out with a grin before sitting down in the grass.

“Here!” he called. “Get your butt over here, city-boy, and sit in the dirt and grass.”

‘Yikes,” Finn teased, but he let himself down beside Leo with a huff, being careful of his shoulder. “You think I don’t sit in grass?”

“You do love a good leather booth and bistro chair.”

Finn laughed. “Fair.”

“Speaking of.”

“Speaking of?”

Leo leaned in and brushed their noses together. “Take-out is nice. But I think tonight you should take me, sit me down practically in your lap in one of those leather booths, and order us ice cold martinis and that to-die-for steak at that place we love. Then you take me home to watch Logan play.”

Finn grinned and hooked a finger in Leo’s closest belt loop. “In my lap, you say?”

“Yes. The place where they have those garage doors that open and let all the heat in.”

“Okay, I will.”

“So I can start the night watching the sun set, and end it in a dim enough corner for kissing until a waiter has to clear their throat to get our attention.”

“I thought the kisses were reserved for this very tree right here.”

Leo smiled as he tilted his head into Finn’s palm when he cupped his cheek. “Your ears get pink—” His words broke off into Finn’s first kiss. “—when you drink gin.”

“You and Lo say that about everything.” Finn kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, before finding his mouth again.

“We think about it a lot.”

Finn felt his cheeks warm when Leo reached up and tweaked his ear. Maybe he did prefer booths and bistros and couches and warm soft chairs that bookstores kept in their corners, but when Leo laid him down in the grass of the very place he used to wonder about finding someone, about loving someone, he wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Leo’s mouth was soft. He kept Finn still and heavy with kisses that made Finn feel like the warm earth was becoming as cloudy as his head. Everything was so soft, so smudged and perfect, that he almost missed it when Leo said—

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Le.” His time with Logan was invaluable, but there was nothing like the three of them. Nothing at all. “But you came back to me happier, so—”

“No, I mean…” Finn felt him press his mouth down on his shoulder before Leo pulled back to look at him. He was framed by the sky. “I missed you while I was away, yes. But I missed you in the locker room after what Jack did. And when you were home but you were hurting and not yourself. And I missed you when—when…”

“When Logan got traded,” Finn said softly.

“Yeah,” Leo said shakily. He stroked Finn’s hair back from his face. He bent down and kissed the shell of Finn’s ear then came back smiling. “Yeah.”

Finn wished he could see the two of them. The way Leo put one thigh over his, and the grass stain on his t-shirt.

“Needed this,” Leo sighed.

Finn kissed the corner of Leo’s mouth. “I’d like a list of all the things you need, ranked in the order you’d like them.”

Leo’s laugh was soft, and Finn kissed his left dimple when it appeared. “Finn…”

“Okay, fine, we’ll start here,” Finn whispered. “Help me and this slightly bum shoulder up, and come with me.”

~

The cottage always seemed to take the sunset into its very paint and walls. It soaked through the windows and made it almost impossible to sit at the dining room table without the gauzy white curtains drawn. Those curtains turned the lake into a glistening blur. It set the rosé glasses on fire. Remus wanted to sit between Lily and Sirius and look at Harry happily babbling from his mother’s lap for the rest of his life.

“So, Logan’s sisters called me—well, Noelle called me,” Remus said. “And they’re sticking around in New York until the Rangers—you know.”

“Win or lose,” Julian supplied, and then knocked on wood at the same time as Remus. Sirius was holding the wooden salad bowl to pass to Hope and drummed his fingers on it once.

“Right,” Remus said. “So, that’ll happen. And then they’re going to be at the Shore Hotel, so that’s really close. And Logan is surprising Leo and Finn with a cabin, they think they’re staying at a hotel.” Remus put a hand on the sun-warmed back of Sirius’ neck.

“Ouais,” Sirius said. “I told him to get one because if we’re doing what we said—you get ready here at the cottage, I thought I would get ready with Reg, James, Tremz and Pascal there.” Sirius took Remus’ hand and kissed it, smiling. “Then I meet you at the end of the dock.”

“I have so many plans,” James said. “I mean, Dumo vetoed like eighty percent of them, but I still have so many plans.”

Sirius grinned. “Maybe I have plans, too.”

“What?” James shook his head. “No, I do. You can’t have plans, you’re the—one of the grooms!”

“I also have plans,” Lily cut in, looping her arm through Remus’. At Remus’ face she patted his cheek. “Super chill plans. Leo and I brought Talker down a few notches.”

“A few?”

“A lot of notches.”

“Hold up,” James said. “Whose side is Finn on?”

“He requested to, and I quote, ‘wander between the two,’” Lily said.

“Classic,” Remus said.

“Oh, those O’Hara boys are just the sweetest,” Hope said. Harry slapped the table as if in agreement.

“Why do all parents love Finn so much?” James asked.

“He’s just charming, that’s all,” Lily said. “But yeah, I don’t know how he’s going to pull it off, but he wants to wander.”

“If we forget any last minute things, he can run to the shops,” Hope said.

“I actually think he’d love that,” Sirius laughed.

Remus grabbed for another bread roll and Sirius passed him the butter without a word.

“Plans or no plans,” Remus said. “My original point was we have dates for everyone’s arrival, no matter how far the Rangers make it. Literally all we have to do is remember to pick stuff up.”

Hope hummed. “You’d be surprised at how difficult that can be. The flowers are late, the cake is late—it turns into a whole thing.”

“For sure,” Remus said, but smiled at her then pulled a face at Harry who giggled. “But do I really need flowers and cake or do I just need my husband?”

“For sure,” Lily parroted. “But your guests definitely need flowers and cake.”

Julian raised a hand. “I totally need cake.”

James raised both hands. “I totally need flowers. For reasons that are beyond me.”

Remus laughed and felt Sirius stretch his arm out over the back of his chair. He knew it meant Sirius only needed one thing for this wedding, too, and it was him.

“What kind of plans?” Remus knelt on their bed to push open the windows. The night had cooled, and he wanted to clear out some of the stuffiness the day’s heat had trapped. He got hot enough with Sirius pressed up against his back all night.

Sirius looked up from where he’d been checking the time on his phone. “Puck drop in five. Plans for what?”

“About your bachelor party, you said you had plans.”

Sirius laughed. “Reg and I were talking about it. I just wanted to freak James out a little. We’re gonna have dinner at that place you showed me. Play pool, darts.”

Remus pushed himself off the bed. “Dinner, huh?”

“Oh, come on.” Sirius clicked his tongue. “You know me. Dumo will order good wine, Leo will order the best—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Remus pointed a finger at him. “Leo’s on my team.”

“Your team?”

“My team.”

Remus loved that outraged, amused smile Sirius was giving him now. He gave it to refs, he gave it to Logan. Remus wouldn’t choose it over the little-kid laugh, but it was something—especially as Sirius walked across their room’s creaking floorboards and set two palms down on either side of Remus’ hips, pressing into the old mattress springs and making them whine.

“Creek creek,” Remus whispered. He tilted his mouth up to brush Sirius’.

“So, we have teams now,” Sirius whispered back. He kissed Remus so lightly. A feather, there-and-gone.

“And here you were thinking you’d finally gotten me on yours,” Remus put his arms around Sirius’ neck, pushing until Sirius was straightening and Remus could put his socked toes on Sirius’ toes and press their bodies together, standing there in a bedroom he’d been sleeping in since he was little.

Sirius smiled. “Almost.” Both his palms pushed under Remus’ t-shirt. “So close. Any day now.”

“Hey, Cap!” James’ voice came from below. “Lo’s taking first face-off!”

Remus sighed. “Self-torture.” Then, he kissed Sirius’ protests until they tasted like a smile.

~

Leo recognized the steps immediately. They were broad and stone and timeless, leading up to stone pillars. School kids were led in lines—the little ones jubilant, the older ones shuffling. Tourists raised their cameras high, and groups of people on their lunch break made clusters at various heights.

“You’re sweet,” Leo said. “You took me to the MET?”

Finn smiled. “I like watching you look at things. And besides, we better do it while Lo’s busy or else he’ll sulk if we bring him along and sulk if we leave him behind.”

“A-plus timing,” Leo laughed as they began to climb. “Hey, speaking of Lo. I think he doesn’t want to ask if we’ll come to Florida…but.”

“Oh, he definitely wants us to come to Florida.” Finn reached for his wallet. “I can feel it when he stares—” Leo snorted, Finn tilted his head back, laughing as they crossed into the grand entrance hall. “You know the stare.”

Leo pushed his nose into Finn’s cheek, eyes wide open. “This one?”

“Bit of an exaggeration and also wildly true.”

Leo grinned. “You, Logan, ocean. Sounds good to me.” He looked down at the red member card Finn had gotten out. “You keep a membership while you live in a different city?”

“I am nothing if not loyal, Butter.” He held his card out to the guard waiting in front of a long, white room flooded with light.

“One guest?” She scanned his card.

“Yes, indeed.” Finn smiled at her.

“Your name is Butter?” she asked.

Leo stared at her, trying to figure out if she was being serious. She just looked back with slightly uninterested blue eyes.

“I…” Leo nodded. “Yes. My name is Butter. Thanks.”

He pulled Finn into the waiting galleries before she could see him laughing.

~

Logan found a spot on the floor while they waited for coach to get the pre-game video loaded. He stretched his legs out, kneading one of his thighs. Percy was singing, Will was trying to cover his mouth, and Saint was watching them both with narrowed eyes. Logan didn’t know if he knew he was crushing the red bull can in his hands, but Luke gently eased it out of his fingers and drained the remaining liquid.

“Hey.” Alex settled himself down beside him.

“Hey,” Logan said. He sent him a quick smile, then did a double take. “Hey…”

Alex might not be Finn, but Logan liked to think he knew his O’Haras. He knew that lilac color. He knew that slightly vacant brown-eyed stare that only came out when Finn was trying oh-so very hard to be all right. Logan had put that look on his face more than once. He didn’t like seeing it.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked quietly as someone turned the lights out in the room. The screen flickered to life, showing Florida’s starting line frozen in the middle of a play.

“Hm?” Alex didn’t look at him.

“Maybe I’m summoned when you get that look on your face.”

Alex, recognizing his own words, let out a tired laugh. He glanced Logan’s way.

Logan pushed their shoulders together. “By my inner Finn.”

“I’m all right,” Alex said.

Logan waited, keeping his eyes ahead as Coach began to talk through defense. It felt nice to sit surrounded by teammates. Nice to be in the dark. He was tired and exhilarated all at once, heart fast but limbs sore.

“It’s kind of—I don’t know. I was wrong,” Alex said softly. “You know when you just play something out in your head, but it turns out that what you were thinking only makes sense in your head?”

“If Finn was here—” And maybe Logan couldn’t stand that he wasn’t, that Leo wasn’t, and he wasn’t sure if that feeling was ever going to give him any peace, “he would say I’m the dictionary picture of that.”

Alex smiled slightly. “That boy has a lot of sayings.”

“That boy?”

“What? My baby brother? Fish-Finn.”

Logan smiled. “I remember hearing you call him Fish the first time.”

“When?”

“Well—not the best time. First concussion.”

Alex’s face lit up, but only in recognition. “Oh, that’s right. You were asleep in the chair.”

“Yeah. That was the first time I dreamed about kissing him. Ever.”

Alex’s eyebrows went up. “And you’re telling me I woke you up from that?”

“Yeah, fuck you.”

It earned Logan a smile at least. Alex still looked troubled as he returned his eyes to the screen. They listened. Logan took note of positions and numbers and the warning that there was some bad blood towards him and number 56 wanted to fight. When he shrugged, Luke and Percy laughed at him.

The lights came up to soon, and he was left looking at Alex as they both squinted a little in the sudden brightness.

Alex patted a hand on his chest. “I’ll be okay, Tremz. Really. Let’s do this first.”

The words seemed tired, but not like a lie.

~

Ice Floes. Claude Monet.

Finn’s shoulder pressed warmly against Leo’s as they stared at the hazy white landscape. The gallery was calm around them. A tour group murmured in another room. Two older women sat on the bench with their canes between their knees.

“For Lo’s birthday once,” Finn said softly. “I took him to a pond to skate because he said he missed it. Looked like this.”

“That first birthday you knew him, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Finn’s pinky finger found Leo’s and he hooked them together. “And—well, you know the rest of that story.”

“That I do.” Leo shivered just remembering it. His eyes found the small, paint scratched signature in the painting’s corner. A thought made him laugh.

“What?” Finn asked.

“Artists sign their work.” Leo pointed to it. “That man wanted Logan to think he was a piece of art.”

Finn laughed—maybe too loudly for a museum. “That man could only be art because he wants Logan’s name tattooed on his body.”

“Oh? Do you want Logan’s name tattooed on your body?”

“No,” Finn said, but he tilted his head. “I would, however, like Logan to get some more tattoos.”

“Mm, yeah.” Leo leaned his temple against Finn’s. “Where? Arm?”

“Forearm.”

“Forearm, yeah. Collarbone.”

“Oh, yeah, good one. Back?”

“Mm. No, I like it as it is.”

“True,” Finn said. “You’d look good with a tattoo.”

Leo wrinkled his nose. “Eh.”

“You would. I’m not a tattoo person. I don’t think.”

“There’s something pretty about just you and all your freckles.” Leo squeezed their linked fingers. “Your head okay? Shoulder?”

“Knees and toes, knees and toes…”

Leo laughed. “Okay, okay. Where to next?”

They walked back downstairs to the bright sky-lit rooms of ancient Greece and Rome. They passed the large column, the intricate vases of fighting warriors and seated Gods. Leo wondered if he could find any replicas of the pretty Roman glass. He lost a wandering Finn while he was taking photographs to show his mom, but found him again in front of Heracles. He had his head tilted at the statue’s thick chest, only covered by the paws of the thick lion skin draped across the statue’s back.

“Halloween costume?” Leo asked, and Finn rolled his eyes and pulled him away.

They walked to the room transported from Pompeii, then deeper into the museum to suits of armor and lances. Leo found himself thinking of a school field trip. He’d been a junior in high school, whispers and stirrings about the NHL already surrounding him so much so that some of his teammates in his history class thought it was stupid for him to be excited about something as small as a field trip to a local museum. He had been though.

At least until Jack wouldn’t so much as look at him on the bus, never mind sit beside him.

Now, he felt Finn’s palm push under the hem of his shirt, brushing a thumb over the small of his back. They were in a darker part of the gallery, dim except for the low lights aimed at the weapons. Finn had pulled out his glasses to read the museum sign, but pushed them into his hair as he finished.

“Cool,” Finn said. “The hilts come off, so you can replace your blade. Or I guess change the hilt with your outfit? Do you think—”

Leo put a hand on his jaw, turning his head, and kissed him.

Finn hummed when Leo pulled away. “Fantastic. Kisses and weapons.”

“Thanks for sitting with me on buses,” Leo whispered. “And taking me to museums.”

Finn put those Jack-tinged pieces together quickly, and his eyes softened.

“Thanks for telling me you wanted me the first time I asked,” Finn said.

Leo’s eyebrows went up, and Finn smiled, wrapping his arm more fully around Leo’s waist.

“Like you didn’t know Logan wanted you,” Leo said.

“I did. I just didn’t know if he’d ever let himself take me.”

“Those words sure sound sweet coming out of your mouth.”

“Oh yeah?” Finn smiled. “Besides, I am pretty Lo-fluent.”

Low on his stomach, Leo covered Finn’s hand with his own. “Funny, he’s said the same thing about you.”

“Oh, I bet he has.” Finn nosed against Leo’s cheek, and stole a slow, leisurely kiss—far too much for a museum, even the quiet corner of one. “But still. You looked me in the eye. One-for-one.”

“And then I ran away from you?” Leo reminded him, kissing his jaw.

“But you let me come find you.”

“He wanted that, too. Believe me.”

Finn laughed. “You don’t have to defend him. You know I’d have kept him in my pocket if I could. Always.” Finn gave his hand a little tug on Leo’s waist and began to nudge him towards a free corner. “I’m taking about you. I’d keep you there, too.”

“Your pocket? Honey, I like it in your arms just fine.”

“Oh,” Finn said around a smile, then “hm” just before he kissed him again.

Leo didn’t know if he should be leaning against a wall here, didn’t know where a guard was to yell at him, and didn’t really care. At one point, he put his hands into Finn’s hair and had to catch the glasses he’d forgotten about. The small gasp he gave as his fingers fumbled for them let Finn right in, and suddenly any sort of footsteps or place was simply gone.

“Ready to go,” Finn guessed when Leo made a wanting sound, then smiled and kissed him again, quick. “Yeah, we are.”

~

Kasey was waiting for Alex on their floor outside their building’s elevator. Alex was pushing his hair back, still damp from his shower at the rink, and rubbing sleep out of his eyes when he saw him. He’d already begun tugging his tie from his neck. His muscles ached, and his shoulder had felt just a little off since that open-ice hit in the middle of the third, but when those doors opened and he saw Kasey leaning against the wall in the hallway, it all dimmed. The caught gaze between them felt as unfinished as their words.

“Good game,” Kasey said.

“Thanks,” Alex tugged his tie all the way off and let the elevator close behind him. “How did you know I was home?”

“I tracked your location.” Kasey slid his hands into his pockets. “Just like to know where you are. And what you’re doing.” His mouth pulled to the side. “And if you’re okay.”

Alex rolled his shoulder. He dropped his go-bag, walked forward, and kissed him. It maybe came out a little rough. Kasey’s hands found his hips. They slid up the arch of his lower back. Alex held onto his shoulders, turning into the softness of Kasey’s mouth until they had to breathe. He broke the kiss, catching his breath, then tried to lean back in. He was stopped by Kasey’s hand on his jaw. His thumb came to rest just over Alex’s bottom lip. Alex kept his eyes closed, waiting. Kasey’s thumb tapped twice. The silence was long, but it was like basking in sun.

“What, you couldn’t…” Kasey began softly. “You couldn’t talk to me about it?”

Alex was sure he could feel it each time Kasey’s brown eyes shifted over his face.

Kasey grasped Alex’s shoulders. “All the times we… Al, you took me ring shopping. I feel horrible, I feel so, so horrible—”

Alex couldn’t help it. He turned away. He rubbed a hand over his chest and beating heart.

“I need you to tell me things,” Kasey said. “I need you to.”

“I…” Alex’s voice hardly came out. He looked at the warped reflection of the two of them in the elevator doors. More silhouettes than anything. “I want you to be happy.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.”

“Alex, what—” Kasey stepped forward, voice raising. “And you think you don’t make me happy?”

“It wasn’t about me!” Alex turned back towards him. He couldn’t keep the break out of his voice. “It was—”

“I want it to be! I can’t—I can’t come home and—it turns out that you think—” Kasey was shouting now. Alex had seen it happen once. Maybe twice. “It turns out you think you’re sometimes to me? Sometimes?”

“You were getting married!”

“You said you were okay with it! You’re still ours.”

“What the fuck was I supposed to say?” Alex could feel the burn in his throat. “What the fuck was going to happen if I said no?”

“So you decided to lie?”

“I decided to keep you for as—” Alex broke off. Aware they were in a hallway, he dropped his voice. “For as long as I could.”

Kasey flinched. He took a step backwards. He filled up the hallway with his broad shoulders and the way the light caught his hair. He filled up Alex’s head with everything from the way he tossed anything he was holding between his hands like a puck, to the sheepish way he kissed in the morning.

“What?” Kasey’s whisper was hoarse and desperate. “What?”

Alex just shook his head. He wanted to take the words back. Right then, if he could have, he would have reeled back every word he’d ever said in his life. “I…I don’t know. I’m so stupid, Kase, I don’t…I’m…”

Kasey made a frustrated noise, and then Alex was being crowded against the wall. Kasey put his hands on either side of his head so they were eye-level.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kasey whispered. He nudged his nose against Alex’s cheek. “You—Hazard…”

Alex nodded. He’d always liked his nickname, but right then it just felt like the truth.

“No,” Kasey whispered. It had a scolding tinge to it. “You’re not. Not like that.” Kasey kissed his cheek. He let his mouth stay there, warm and soft. “You’re not.”

Alex realized he was was kissing tears.

“I’m a mess,” Alex said.

Kasey pressed a palm to Alex’s other cheek, thumbing away the trails. “You’re not a mess. You’re crying.”

That made Alex laugh, startled and, well, a little snotty. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is you’re not a mess,” Kasey said. He kissed the corner of Alex’s mouth. “And you look fucking gorgeous.”

“You’re mad at me,” Alex said.

“A little, yeah.” Kasey leaned back to look at him. “And I love you so much I might lose it.”

Alex sniffed again. “God. God, I love you, too. You’re angry.”

“I can be both. And one part will fade. Guess which? Not the love part. That’s been here to stay since the first day I met you and you wouldn’t shut the hell up up and let me go to sleep.”

“I…” Alex took a few moments to twist an end of Kasey’s hair around his finger. “I don’t—I have this little brother, you may know him?”

Kasey’s eyebrows went up, amused. “Uh-huh. Think so.”

“He had this boy at college that he…” Alex sniffed, blinking away the wetness from his vision. “I don’t remember his name. Liam Trombone, or something.”

Kasey smiled, just a little. “You have the weirdest sense of humor.”

“Lionel Trustfund.”

“Finish the story that I already know.”

  “Okay.” Alex dropped his eyes, studying the curve of Kasey’s upper lip. “The little brother burned up a little, waiting for him. And there was nothing I could do to help him.”

“Okay,” Kasey’s expression had softened, listening.

“I didn’t know how to help him, but I knew how much he was hurting.” Alex put his hands on Kasey’s chest. “I think that little brother’s stronger than I am. I think he’s smarter than I am. I think he could survive it. Even if it didn’t work out.”

Kasey’s hands covered his.

“I don’t…think I could,” Alex whispered. “So I tried to stop it before it was too…”

“I get it,” Kasey said. “Don’t worry, I understand now.”

“Maybe I’m jealous,” Alex said. “Or I’m insecure, or something fucking stupid like that—”

“Maybe,” Kasey cut him off, “you’re as in love with us as we are with you. Maybe we’re fucking stupid or something like that. Maybe I was leaving hockey and I knew just one part of this new life that I was about to have, and that part is Natalie.” Kasey ducked until Alex looked at him. “Maybe I couldn’t believe I actually got you back and I didn’t…” Kasey pressed his lips together against tears. “You’re not just sometimes, Al. Of everything in my life, you’re the only thing that’s always been always. I don’t have this incredible family like you do, I don’t have…I’ve always had my teammates, and then I had Natalie, but first I had—first there was suddenly this really kind, fun…loud person—”

Alex let out a breath of a laugh and Kasey smiled, brows drawn together against the tears.

“Really beautiful person suddenly filling up my life,” Kasey finished, carding Alex’s hair back from his face. “First there was you.”

Alex nodded hard. “You’re that for me. You’re that for me, too.”

Suddenly, Natalie’s voice filtered down the hallway. “This hallway has very bad lighting for confessions of love.”

Alex closed his eyes and laughed when Kasey grinned. They turned to see her leaning out of their doorway. She wore Rangers blue.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Alex said, rubbing at his eyes. “Where is my bag?”

“I’ve got it,” Kasey said.

Kasey picked his things up and followed Alex to their door.

Natalie stood aside from the doorway, letting them in, and looked up at Alex. “I would have gone with Leroy Trampoline.”

“Laurence Trespass,” Kasey added from behind him.

For some reason, it was that that truly made Alex cry. Natalie was ready for it. She didn’t let Alex put a hand over his eyes. She caught it and kissed it. She smoothed a hand over Alex’s shoulder, as she kissed his cheek.

“And when were you going to tell us this hurts, too?”

“My shoulder hurts a little,” Alex said somewhat dutifully, and she smiled, shaking her head.

“O’Hara,” Kasey began to protest.

“Barely,” Alex said. He wrapped Natalie up around her waist and lifted her off her feet a little. “Okay, okay, I promise. I don’t know why I hide it, I really don’t. Natalia?”

“Alexander.”

“You look so beautiful when you look at wedding things,” Alex said softly. “Are you sure you…Are you sure you don’t…” Alex shook his head. He looked at Kasey pointedly, then shook his head down at himself. “I mean, I…Are you sure?”

“What can I say,” Natalie said, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I want two diamonds. And two pairs of brown eyes. And two hearts. And you. You.” She kissed him more fully, hands in his hair, and said her next words against his mouth. “Let them call me greedy, see if I care.”

~

“No,” Leo pushed at Finn’s cheek, laughing. “Lick Logan all you want, don’t lick me.”

They were just a little tipsy after a full dinner and watching Logan play, tucked into a booth at Finn’s favorite place with whiskey and Leo’s mouth on on his neck. Finn was possibly feeling a little riled up from Logan’s intense expression on the TV, and Leo’s bright smile right beside him. He’d let himself be pulled home, pulled through their door, pulled into Leo’s arms, pulled against his body. Leo was salt and sweet. Finn had gotten him off once already—right here, Leo had said, pushing Finn to his knees in the entrance hall. Ever since Lo said about you two…He’d glanced over his shoulder at the mirror and laughed. Finn liked the way that small table rattled against the mirror. He and Logan bit back smiles whenever they locked eyes in that mirror now, coming in from a walk or dinner. He’d never walk through there the same way now. Not with Logan, not with Leo, not alone.

“Okay, okay, okay, come back.” Finn kissed Leo’s cheek, turned against the pillows. He was stretched out against the bed now, bare except for his boxers. “Come back.”

Leo pretended to keep his face turned away, smiling, but his hands were sliding down to Finn’s hips, pushing into his boxers and turning back to kiss him.

“Do I get to—” Finn couldn’t help the low sound in the back of his throat as Leo closed a hand around his cock. “—hear—to hear more of the list of the things you want?”

Leo’s palm was warm, his pulls slow and teasing. “You’re hearing it right now.”

“Oh,” Finn’s voice felt tight and coiled in his throat. “Uh-huh.”

Leo hooked an ankle over the back of Finn’s knee. His free hand scratched through Finn’s hair, angling his chin for another kiss. Finn pressed his hands into the pillows by Leo’s head, fingers fisting the material as Leo’s hand sped up. But then, Leo was using that ankle as leverage, and suddenly Finn found himself on his back.

“Don’t…” Leo whispered the word, even mouthed it. He let Finn slide his palms down his ribs. “Move.”

Then he was grinning and gone, leaving Finn staring up at the ceiling.

“I—wait, I, what?” Finn stuttered. “I—what?”

“Don’t move!” Leo shouted from the living room.

Finn heard rummaging, and Leo’s bare feet on the hardwood.

It was funny, being alone in this bedroom. Logan’s bedroom. He turned his head into the pillow and could smell his scent there. Logan’s bed had been a rare delicacy at one time. Being in it. Being warm in it, being cold in it. Being cramped in it. Waiting for him to come back but waking up alone in it.

He’d never been in Leo’s bed when they’d lived together before they were together. He’d sat on top of the covers. Or rumpled covers. Warm from Leo just waking up, Finn back from his run and showered, watching him go back and forth from the bathroom, getting ready. A little hard in his jeans at Leo’s smile and skin.

“Le?” Finn called. He looked down at himself, briefs tight, and ran his thumbs just above his waistband. He’d leaked a mess while sucking Leo off and he was tempted to kick away the darkened material. But he wanted Leo to do it. “Come back.”

“I’m coming!”

“Whatever you think you need, you don’t,” Finn called again.

“Oh-ho, yes, I do.” His voice was closer now. He came back to the doorway, still in his boxers. Finn’s heart gave a kick at the shape of him, trapped tight against his body. Nothing looked new. He wasn’t holding anything that Finn could see, but his hands were tucked behind his back. He was smiling, teasing almost, but his eyes dropped to Finn’s hips and it turned soft. He bit his bottom lip and tilted his head, then withdrew a hand and held something up—a Sharpie.

“You left me for a pen.”

Leo uncapped the pen with a flourish and pointed the nib at Finn’s body. “Art.”

“Oh my God,” Finn said.

“You are so turned on right now,” Leo said delightedly. He knelt on the bed, jostling them both, and swung a leg over Finn’s hips. They both let out a breath as Leo spent a few moments grinding down on him. Finn got a hand around the back of his neck and pushed his nose against Leo’s left dimple.

Leo smiled into it. “Kiss me.” He traced his tongue over Finn’s bottom lip, coaxing Finn into opening his mouth and kissing him properly. When Finn did, Leo groaned softly, pleased.

“Yeah…Like that,” Leo murmured, and Finn made his own pleased sound when Leo slumped against his chest to be kissed. Finn had just settled back against his pillows, tilting his head to scrape his teeth gently against Leo’s lower lip, his hands guiding Leo’s hips down in slow rolls against his own, when Leo gasped for air. Finn smiled and kissed him again, harder, sloppier, before Leo broke away.

“God, Finn.” Leo leaned back, hand rubbing at himself through his boxers, then Finn. “Okay, okay, where to write first?”

Finn laughed. “There are a whole lot of things we could be doing that don’t involve writing.”

Leo ignored him. He studied Finn’s torso, then spread a warm palm against his ribs and bent down. Finn tried not to jump when the cool point of the pen began tracing a slow line over his skin.

He tried to pick out the cursive letters, but couldn’t. Instead, he let his head rest back against the pillows. “That’s kind of nice.”

Leo capping the pen and admiring his work. He blew softly on the ink, though it had dried, and Finn shivered. When he looked, he saw that Leo had written his signature, and he laughed at the fact that he’d even included his number like he’d do for fans.

“Wow.” Finn reached forward to pull Leo down against him. “Do you have any idea how much I’d be worth on Ebay now?”

“Oh, shh,” Leo said, but let Finn steal the pen from him.

“Shh,” Finn parroted, and grasped Leo’s knees and flipped him onto his back. The pen was warm, so was the center of his chest when Finn kissed it. He sat back on his heels like Leo had. “What do you want, Sunshi—oh, I’m doing that.”

Finn chose the spot on Leo’s hip were Logan’s tattoo resided and drew a small sun. Circle, rays coming out. Over the bump of his ribs, he started the straight line of his signature. F. Then the loop of the O. Then, smaller, 17.

“What number would I be if I wasn’t 17?”

Leo snorted. “Ten.”

Finn smiled. “No way.”

“Hm…Maybe 22.”

Finn made an interested noise. He drew a small heart near Leo’s left nipple. “That’s a good one.”

“And me? And don’t just say another classic goalie number. Like, 30 or something.”

Finn capped the pen and swiped his thumb over the sun. “Maybe…Something with a seven in it. 72. Or a 4. I like 4 for you. 74. Or 3. Three of us, three on your jersey.”

Leo put his hands behind his head, smiling. “I ask for one number, of course you give me four.”

Finn shrugged. “What can I say? You’re versatile.” Finn put his hands over Leo’s wrists where they were resting above his blond, messy hair. “I like that about you.”

One moment Leo was grinning, and the next he was swinging his weight up to put Finn on his back again. “Oh?”

Finn ran his hands down the full length of Leo’s back and gripped the back of his thighs.

“I really, really want you,” Leo whispered. “Fuck, Finn, I loved today.”

“I know,” Finn whispered back. “Me too.” When he messed with the band of Leo’s briefs, Leo was helping him get them off before he could even ask, “yeah?”

Leo moaned into Finn’s kiss, and Finn’s cock jumped at the want and relief in it. Leo just pushed the elastic band below his balls and pressed against Finn’s body like he couldn’t wait any longer. Finn got a hand between them, giving him a tight hold to fuck into. He was already slick.

At the same moment, their front door slammed.

“Hello?” Logan shouted. Keys in a bowl. Bag dropping down to the floor. “I’m home.”

“Oh…” Leo panted. “Oh—”

“Good?” Finn settled a warm hand on his lower back. He didn’t care that he himself was aching. He wanted to make Leo come again the second Logan found them. “Come when you see him.”

Leo was too far gone for his laugh to be anything by half-breath. He was rocking into Finn’s fist more roughly now and Finn crossed an ankle over the back of Leo’s knee to give him more leverage.

“You wanna finish like this?” Finn swiped a soothing thumb over his back. “Hm, baby? Anything you want.”

“I need to.” Leo’s voice was shaky. “I’m so…”

“Yeah, you are.” He could hear Logan’s footsteps coming towards them and knew Leo could, too. Gently, Finn nudged his nose into Leo’s hot cheek until he turned his head towards the bedroom doorway. “Look.”

Leo’s breathing jumped. “I’m coming, I’m—”

Finn felt the first hot streak of Leo’s come on his chest, his neck, just as Logan appeared in the doorway. He was still in his suit, a light grey three-piece that Finn loved him in. His hair was dark, damp still, dripping on his collar. He had a new but shallow cut on his jaw. He stopped hard when he took in the sight in front of him.

“Hello, Lolo.” Finn’s voice was a little tight from the feeling of Leo pressing down on him. “What’s up?”

“Fuck,” Leo panted, eyes hooded.

Logan just stared. “I…”

Finn smiled and turned back to Leo. He carded his fingers through his hair and loosened his grip around his cock, bringing him down with gentle strokes. He was so hot in his palm, spent and softening. Finn felt like even the fabric around him could set him off.

“You,” Leo whispered, smiling as he noticed. “You’re so…”

“I’m good. You’re perfect,” Finn said. “Feel like I’ve come twice just watching you.”

Leo’s smile turned wide and sated. His kiss was slow. Out of Logan’s view, Leo slipped the Sharpie into his hand and Finn grinned, arching into Leo’s hips and the kisses he’d began placing on the underside of his jaw.

Logan just crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. Slowly, he found the different marks and dark lines on their skin, and frowned. “What is…that?”

Finn brought the pen up to his mouth and took the cap off with his teeth. “C’mere, Ten.”

Logan took a small step back, one corner of his mouth lifting, unsure. “What the fuck?”

Leo leaned back from what Finn was sure was entirely different type of artwork now dotting his neck. “Finn took me to the museum.”

“Artists sign art,” Finn added.

He gave Leo’s shoulder a small push and settled him on his back again and sat up with his knees parted over Leo’s hips. Leo reached out a hand to cup Finn’s covered cock, and Finn let himself rock into it gently as he surveyed Leo’s lean, pale skin, already marked in a few places. He felt like he’d been on the edge for hours. Sometimes, he didn’t want it to end. “Ah. Here.”

He wrote slowly, scrawling his signature again across Leo’s inner arm. He watched the way Leo’s breathing hitched and how goosebumps spread out from the marker’s cold nib. Leo didn’t laugh like he had before. He just pressed up into Finn’s hold as Finn scooted backwards and hooked one of Leo’s strong, slender legs over his shoulder and considered the expanse of Leo’s inner thigh, right where it was softest and sprinkled with blond hair. Finn steadied him, fingers in the strong crease of his hip, and drew a heart.

“Huh.” Logan’s mouth was slightly open. “Isn’t that bad, like, for skin?”

“Not my skin,” Leo whispered. He had his hands above his head and watched Finn through dark, half-closed eyes. “Not in those hands.” He turned his head. “What are you still doing over there?”

“Waiting for someone to take this suit off of me.”

Leo gave Finn a small smack on the hip that Finn took as go. Finn slipped off the bed. In two strides, he was in front of Logan, gently tilting his neck to the side, and writing a small 17 just below his ear.

“Hi, demanding one,” Finn said, then capped the pen a put it between his teeth to hold while he got to work on Logan’s tie.

“Why do you keep putting that in your mouth?”

“To draw your attention to it,” Finn said around the pen.

“Please remember I have to go into a locker room.”

“Oh, come on. You know I gotta show Luke what’s mine.”

Logan tilted his head back and groaned. “Finn.”

“Just kidding.” Finn took the pen out from between his teeth, cupping the back of Logan’s head to pull him into a kiss as he slid his tie out from his collar.

“You’re not kidding,” Logan protested, looking at Leo. “Le’s not jealous of Luke. He’s a mature person.”

“I’m jealous of anyone who gets to spend that much time with you these days,” Leo said.

Logan’s eyes turned soft, still staring at Leo as Finn slipped his jacket from his shoulders. It fell uncaringly to the floor. Finn could have watched them look at each other forever. He could feel their locked eyes like a strand of heat beside him. He undid the top buttons of Logan’s shirt and pushed it off his shoulders just enough to get at the center of his chest.

Logan looked down when he felt the cold pen. “What—”

“This is so much better than writing on shoes.”

H-E-A-R-T. Finn wanted to circle the letters, carve himself a space, and fall in. He settled for a kiss to the skin, then lower, lower, until he was kneeling and Logan’s shirt was on the ground. There was a fresh bruise on his ribs and Finn gently traced its shape before writing Logan Island.

“You’re so weird,” Logan said faintly. He gave Finn’s hair a little tug, brushed a thumb over his bottom lip, then went to kneel on the bed and kiss Leo.

Finn grinned at his soft salut and the sound of a kiss. He pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed. While they were busy, he tugged Logan’s socks off and pushed his pant leg up enough to draw a couple stars on the back of his calf. He heard Logan laugh into the kiss. The ink looked different against Logan’s more tan skin. With Leo it was stark and beautiful. Logan made it like it had always been there.

“Good win by the way. We watched you from that corner place we love,” Leo said when Logan rolled on his back to kick off his pants. Leo turned on his side to touch the bruise. “Maybe you should take it easy.”

Logan grumbled something Finn didn’t catch, down to his underwear now.

Leo glanced at Finn, smile knowing. “One more time?”

Logan huffed. “I’ll have big Florida hotel beds to take it easy all by myself all I want.”

Leo reached out for the Sharpie and gave Finn a nod. He hooked a knee over Logan’s thigh and began drawing small stars over Logan’s collarbone.

“Big Florida beds, huh?” Leo asked.

Logan watched Leo’s face as he drew. “Yes.”

“All by yourself?” Finn repeated.

That got Logan to look at him. He still looked put-out by the thought, but there was hesitation there, too.

“Ouais,” he said.

Finn tilted his head. “Says who?”

Leo capped the pen and blew on his stars. They were in a pattern, Finn realized. A constellation.

Logan pushed himself up onto one elbow. He looked between them, mouth open. “Quoi—non. What?”

Finn moved forward to settle in between Logan’s legs, smoothing his hands up Logan’s thighs when he wrapped them around Finn’s waist. “I said, says who?”

“Merci.” The word nearly got lost in Logan’s relieved sigh. Then he was reaching for Finn, locking his fingers around his wrists. “Really? Really?”

“Of course we’re coming with you,” Leo said. “What do you take us for?”

Logan looked like someone had just taken some heavy weight off his shoulders. He turned his head to put Leo’s forehead against his own.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you…”

“Honey, there’s nothing ‘thank you’ about it,” Leo said. “If we can follow you, we will. You know that.”

“I—still. It’s not like I’ll have much free time,” Logan said. “And—And I thought you’d probably want to go home.”

Leo smiled into Logan’s kiss. “Take a look at Harzy. I think he feels pretty at home right where he is.”

“Oh yeah,” Finn said. He leaned down over their them, barely having to turn his head to place a kiss to the corner of Leo’s mouth, then Logan’s. “We’re going to get you some silver. We’re going to go watch our best friends get married. There’s nothing not ‘home’ about any of that.”

~

It almost felt strange, to watch hockey like this again. To worry about who was going to win and not be able to help a team get there. Sirius spared half a moment to glance at Remus as he set his tea down on the table. He said something soft and smiling as Lily handed Harry over to settle sleepily against his chest.

Sirius watched for a moment as a drone image of a Florida beach took up the TV screen. He stood behind the couch with his arms crossed, and as long as the blue water was on the screen, he could lower his hands to mess gently with the hair at Remus’ nape. Remus, rubbing Harry’s back, looked backwards and upside down at him.

“All right, Black, I’m not kidding, you standing there like that is not going to make the Rangers win.”

“I’m not—” The TNT logo flashed and suddenly Logan’s face filled the screen. He had his mouthguard half out of his mouth, and there was a neat line of stitches on his cheek from a re-opened cut. The camera panned to the ice where the Rangers were about to lose the last seconds of a power-play, and Sirius crossed his arms again, back into their original position. “I don’t want them to win.”

Lily scoffed. “We do for right now.”

“Gah,” James put a finger over her lips. “La-la-la.”

“I won’t say that out loud,” Sirius replied.

Around Harry’s sleeping back, Remus mocked Sirius’ position, crossing his arms. “You’re saying you don’t want Logan to win you-know-what?”

Sirius actually flinched. “I’m saying—I’m not saying anything that could influence anything. I’m standing here, watching a friend on television.”

“You’ve had your arms crossed like that since Logan scored in the first period.” Lily looked at the living room clock. “That’s about an hour and a half ago.”

“Oh my God.” Remus let out a loud ha, then put a hand over Harry’s head as if to say sorry. He held up his phone to Lily and James, who made similar sounds, then flipped it to show Sirius. Leo had sent a picture of Finn to the team group chat. Finn was sitting with his back straight in what looked like a hotel room, palm trees outside. He had his hands placed specifically on his knees, his eyes on an out of sight TV.

Leo had written, he hasn’t moved at all since Lo scored but he “isn’t superstitious.”

Sirius pointedly looked back to the television. Logan was on the ice now, gliding into Florida’s zone.

Sirius glared when he heard the sound of Remus’ camera click.

~

They were about to go into their second over time, and Logan had blood in his mouth as he walked down the tunnel to the visitor’s locker room. He checked his teeth, but it was just a cut lip.

“Fucking seventy-four,” Luke said from two steps behind him. “Got a fucking mouth on him.”

“Ouais.” Logan handed his gloves over to be dried and pulled his helmet off. He rubbed at the red mark the tightness had left and tried to think what Finn would be saying over his shoulder right then. He would be talking a mile-a-minute and pressed right up against his back. Logan could text him and Leo and read the words, but that wouldn’t feel the same.

He could imagine it in snatches. If we had gone around—Too early—So fucking gorgeous, Tremzy—I tried to but he cut me off, so next time—

That wasn’t the same, either.

He got a bag of ice, twisting it closed, before sitting down heavily in his stall and holding it against his mouth. It felt swollen already. The bleeding had stopped, at least.

From his stall, he heard his phone buzz.

Sixteen texts from Finn and Leo. Two from Remus.

One from Sirius.

The Sirius one, for some reason, sent his heart all funny. They talked. Of course they talked, but not much and never during games. Too many lines blurred like that, and it was bad enough that Logan still couldn’t look at Sirius without thinking of him as his captain. But there it was. Sirius Black. One new message.

Finn and Leo’s texts were a tangled string of admiration that ranged from sweet to dirty. Logan bit back a smile and vowed to take another look at those later.

Remus had sent him a screenshot from the Lion’s group chat. A photograph of Finn, sitting tensed on the couch. The beat of warmth that Logan got when he realized that intense look on his face was because he was watching him was another thing to be examined later. The second photo, sent by Remus, was of Sirius standing behind a couch with his arms crossed. He wore the same intense look on his face.

Sirius’ lone message was simple. Bring it back home.

Logan knew Sirius was talking about the game. Bring it back to New York, finish this round on home ice, and move on to the final round for the Cup. But the word bled and healed like the cut on Logan’s cheek and lip. Sirius shared more than one home with him. Home was speaking French. Home was Pascal. Home was letting themselves go, and letting themselves love. Logan had been sitting there, trying to imagine home around him. Home was waiting for him in a hotel room not even twenty minutes away. He’d be washed in blue eyes and sun later tonight, in pale skin and auburn hair. The lonely feeling was half-habit when it came to Logan—and Sirius. Sirius knew that better than anyone.

For a fraction of a second, Logan’s world didn’t feel so very far away.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part 4 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

Logan isn't sure when or how it happened. It just…did.

He wakes up next to you every morning now. He falls asleep next to you every night. It's become routine, part of his day, as natural as if he's always been doing it.

Somehow, falling asleep next to you turns into cuddling, which then turns into late night conversations until you're both too exhausted to keep talking.

And Logan is…happy. He feels lighter, he's got more energy. Suddenly the world isn't the sullen place he always thought it was.

He convinces himself it's the sex. Convinces himself that's what has him in such a good mood. It couldn't possibly be anything else other than the sex.

It's his favorite part of the day now. He looks forward to lying next to you, to listen to you talk about your day. He just focuses on your words, on the sound of your voice, as he gently caresses your skin.

And he shares with you, too. Little, but he shares. He likes the way you pay attention, the way you actually listen to what he has to say. It makes him feel…seen. And it sounds silly, but that's how he feels. That's one of the many things he likes about you.

You're smart, you're sweet, you're funny. He enjoys talking to you so much, that the idea of going somewhere with you and just talking about anything and everything slowly starts to grow in his mind. It takes shape; he thinks of places, of times, of days. And he decides that an afternoon coffee with you would be the most suitable. Now there's only the matter of asking you.

And despite everything you two have done, this has him nervous.

He's antsy and jumpy as he walks up to you one day, hands balled into fists.

“Hey, bub,” he greets casually.

You turn to face him, eyes bright. And you smile and he's lost.

A little voice in the back of his head is insisting that a girl like you would never want him, that you're way out of his league. But he gathers his courage and pushes himself to ask anyway.

“So, I was wondering,” he says, “if you're busy today? In the afternoon?”

“Today? No, I'm not busy,” you reply. He sighs in relief. “Why?” you add curiously.

“I wanted to see if you wanted to go out with me? Like to go get coffee?”

You blink and his heart drops. She's gonna say no.

Is…is he asking me on a date?

You're pretty sure he did. At least that's what it sounded like. But he said it so casually, maybe he just meant it as friends or something?

“Um. Coffee?” you echo, grimacing internally. You sound like an idiot, but you hope Logan doesn't notice.

“Yeah, coffee. Or an ice cream, or…just, anything, really,” he replies, nodding. “I just meant if you wanted to hang out.”

You nod softly. “Well, yeah, it sounds fun,” you reply, smiling.

Logan offers a half grin in return. “Great. We could go into the city and just see where we feel like going,” he says.

You nod. “Yeah, great. So, it's a date.”

His grin widens into a smile. “It's a date.” He nods.

That afternoon, he takes you on his bike to the mall, enjoying the way you hold onto him for life. When you get to the mall and take the helmet off, he grins. Your hair is all messy and you've never looked more beautiful.

“I've got helmet hair, don't I?” you ask, pouting.

He hums gently. “A little,” he responds as he tenderly combs your hair some.

You grumble a bit. “I was all fixed-up and pretty,” you complain.

“You still look as beautiful as ever,” he tells you, studying your face carefully, just taking you in.

A soft blush coats your cheeks and he smiles, tracing your cheekbone with his knuckles softly.

It's almost odd to see Logan be this calm, caring, affectionate. But you're not complaining at all. If anything, you like it. It makes you feel wanted. He makes you feel wanted and safe.

You two walk into the mall together, talking and laughing, and he lets you pick the place. You end up in a cute café, cozy and quiet, sitting close together in a booth in the far corner.

Logan is more open than usual, still somewhat reserved, but he offers you more insight to his thoughts and feelings. He talks and laughs, and you can sense he’s different. Almost as if the weight he always carries on his shoulders is gone. He’s just a man, a happy man on a date with a girl he likes. He’s no longer that tough, hardened, hurt man that’s been hurt by the world to the point of no return.

The conversation flows. It’s natural, easy, and before you know it, it’s been hours of you two sitting in the café and talking. When night falls and it starts getting late, Logan takes you back to the mansion. With most of the mansion asleep, you two walk in quietly and it feels like you’re sneaking back in from somewhere you shouldn’t have been.

It’s not like dating between the X-men is forbidden, just…Logan isn’t the type for that and you understand that.

Logan leads you to his room and locks the door after himself.

She’s beautiful. Just standing there, staring at him with those gorgeous eyes…you’ve got him hooked.

He reaches for you, studying your expression, taking in your scent and the sound of your heart. It’s as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.

You, that puts up with all his bullshit, that stands him and his dumbass, that demands respect, that amazes him, that makes him feel like he’s not a complete monster…

What did he ever do right in his long, fucked-up life that ended with the amazing karmic event of you giving him a chance? What did he ever do to deserve you? He’s not sure, but he’s grateful for whatever good luck has befallen him.

He grabs your hand and gently leads you to his bed, his heart racing.

His heart racing? Is he nervous. Since when is he nervous about sex?

He tries to ignore the thought as he lays you down on the bed. Without a second of hesitance, he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs so he can nuzzle against your thighs. He kisses them softly, one after the other, as he pushes your skirt around your waist. He mouths his way up to your pussy, inhaling her scent through the thin material of your panties. He kisses your mound, his eyes fluttering shut. He just lets himself feel, lets himself do whatever he wants however he wants, focusing on you and wanting to give you everything.

Your breathing grows heavy, your hands move to tangle in his hair. He goes slow, every lick and kiss calculated and measured. There’s no trace of the animal here, no trace of that hunger that seems to take over him more often than not. There’s just…him. It’s just him and you in this moment, together.

He gently tugs your panties off and smiles, glancing up at you. He can see the look in his eyes and he recognizes the affection there. And, for once, it doesn’t scare him, doesn’t send him running off. It makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach flutter.

He eats you out gently, taking his time, just enjoying your taste and the way your body writhes under his mouth.

By the time you’re tugging him away, telling him you can’t take anymore, he’s made you come about three times. Smiling, he undresses and crawls onto the bed on top of you.

This time, there’s no screaming. There’s no headboard slamming into the wall or bed springs squeaking. No crazy positions or choking or spanking.

Logan fucks you slow, deep. His cock reaches every spot in you with a tenderness that takes your breath away.

Every deep thrust is punctuated by a groan from him, his breath hitching as you clench around him. He kisses your neck, mouths at your jaw. His hand caresses your cheek, his eyes on yours as he fucks you.

The gentleness of it, the soft care, the warmth in his gaze…it’s too much.

His fingers touch your clit and rub in soft circles, and it takes nothing to push you over the edge. You tumble, back arching, eyes rolling back. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your voice breathy as you whimper into his ear.

“Logan,” you whisper. “Logan.”

And he loses it. You’re not begging for sex. You’re not begging for him to go hard and deep, or for him to relieve you of your stress. You’re begging for more, for the one thing he shouldn’t give you and the one thing he wants to give you.

Your pussy clenches his cock tight as you come and he loses his train of thought. With a shudder and a low moan, he comes in you, spurting his release into your soft cunt. He’d forgotten the condom, but that’s an issue for another day.

He stays where he is, on top of you, and leans his forehead against yours. “Are you okay, bub?” he asks softly, nuzzling his nose with yours.

You nod. “I’m good,” you reply.

He meets your gaze and smiles softly. And, God, the way he’s looking at you…it almost looks as if not only cares about you, but like he could almost, almost…

Love you.

---

a/n: I'm sorry babes!!! I can't believe this took me so long but omg, finals actually kicked my ass and I'm surprised I didn't have a breakdown lol. Buuut, it's finally here. Enjoooooy!!!

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[onecheerfulmoron]

🤴God / 🫅Goddess Appeal

<Applies to both Male & Female>

*Personal Observation / Experience*

What do I mean by god/goddess appeal?

Well, I believe individuals who have certain aspects, placements, or signs (which I have listed below) enforces others to view them in a positive light or show admiration. The explanation as to what causes that positive outlook can be better understood by knowing the roles of the planets or signs. You can use the examples of the planet's role from my sex appeal post to help better understand. I’m just a bit lazy sometimes, lol.

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury/Venus conjunct Neptune

Sun/Rising/Moon/MC/Mercury/Mars/Jupiter/Neptune conjunct Venus

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury/Venus conjunct Mars

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury/Mars conjunct Saturn

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury conjunct Juno

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury conjunct asteroid Nymphe #875

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury conjunct asteroid Psyche #16

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury conjunct asteroid Eros #433

Sun/Rising/MC/Mercury conjunct asteroid Aphrodite #1388

*Personally I think when it comes down to asteroids in conjunction to Venus, there’s a 50/50 chance that it’s attention towards you (why people want to be in a relationship with you) or it’s all about your nature in a relationship. That’s why I didn’t include Venus for the asteroids. I never seen its effect on these asteroids. If any of y’all have, please let me know :)*

Any of those planets in Pisces, Cancer, Libra, Taurus, Capricorn and Aries.

*Personally, I find Capricorns hot and cold. So I included them in this and my sex appeal post. They carry a very dominant yet mature vibe and can be seen as hot and cute. They are the Gemini’s of appearance because of their capability to shift from being hot to cute. Example: Jennie (Blackpink), Timothée Chalamet, Zayn Malik, Kim Tae-hyung (BTS), etc.*

Any of those planets & asteroids in the 1st, 5th, 7th, 10th, and 11th house.

Trines/Opposition/Square/Sextile also apply. Conjunctions are the most powerful and/or tighter the orbs of the aspect. Orbs (0-3), the more prominent it plays out in your life. Orbs (4-7) is somewhat in the middle.

Examples:

People with Sun and/or Rising conjunct Neptune or in Pisces literally act like the Geminis of the water sign with the mindset of Libra or some. They know how to get their way around shit and don't like problems, so instead of siding with their opinion, they just go along with whatever the other person says to keep the peace. This is one of the zodiac signs I have seen as the most mutable after Libras. I never heard people saying shit about Pisces. They are usually welcomed in any type of friend groups.

Any planet in aspect with Neptune makes the individual dreamy, ethereal, and magnetic for whatever that planet represents. Ex: Sun conjunct Neptune their personality, Rising conjunct Neptune -> their features and sense of style, etc. These people are like Libra’s, but the emotional version.

Mercury conjunct Neptune individuals better sing their asses off. Many celebrities who have this are known for their voices and how beautiful they sound. Ummmm hello Ariana Grande & Jennie from Blackpink….. These people possess a voice that can influence and attract others. For instance, people with Mercury conjunct Pluto have a unique conversational style, but people with Mercury conjunct Neptune have a unique tone and voice. There was this one time I ordered pizza over the phone and man I was getting butterflies over the man who took my order. The tone of his voice was such a turn-on. I won't be surprised if he had this aspect.

I have Nymphe conjunct my Rising in the 12th house. Since nymphe is in my 12th house, the effect on others usually takes place when they get to know me, are around me, or when they talk to me. I get called adorable a lot by men and some women. I have been told by one coworker that I’m so naive and that it’s adorable. Yes, I have been a very sheltered female, lol. One day at my corporate job my coworkers were talking about Greek people, and I was like “Oh I didn’t know they still existed”. They burst out laughing and one of my coworkers yelled out “You’re so adorable…that was so cute”. Mind you, my director was behind them. I was scared I was going to get fired for being stupid. If Indians find out about me and my stupidity, they will not claim me, lol. Even when I had to take gym class in high school, I was so embarrassed to run and still am because I didn't want to look stupid. My gym teacher would always hype me up like a father. Everyone in that gym class knew our gym teacher had a special spot for me. I'm seen as a kid to adults, tho I'm 23. I honestly think because of that, I attract pedophiles. When I used to work part-time at a restaurant, a female manager (40-50yr old) who I think could be bisexual told me to make OnlyFans. She randomly told me her daughter does and she watches them. And kept pushing me to. The bartender kept telling me she has a thing for me. I also had older men (40 and up) sexualize me. A grown man touched me on my back when I went grocery shopping. The crazy thing is he did it when his son walked away somewhere. Despite being adorable and childish, this aspect has the potential to attract pedophiles. I know I'm not a kid, but my innocence and naiveness draws predators.

I have Psyche conjunct my Rising in the 1st house. I have a way of getting out of trouble, lol. It’s like people can tell I have good intentions and go easy on me. All I have to do is make eye contact, and people feel connected to me soulfully. I usually get along with men more, and they respect me more than females. If y'all know the story of Psyche dealing with jealousy from her sisters and Aphrodite. That shit ain’t wrong. I always felt as if females didn’t like me, like they were jealous. For instance, I was shocked when I found out that this girlfriend whom I had been friends with since middle school tried to copy my facial feature. She slipped up and told me on a phone call that she showed a picture of my face when she got her chin done. She said even the surgeon was shocked that my cheekbones and chin were natural. Like WTF! That's creepy man. I would never show a picture of my friend if I was trying to get something done on myself. The girl been jealous of me the entire time of our friendship and released it by getting work done. I’m not close to her like that anymore. A positive example of this aspect would be me only getting warnings from cops. One day I sped through the school zone and got caught. I pulled over, and the cop asked me what do you think will happen now. I told him my car insurance will go high. The crazy thing is I left my wallet and DL at home. I was thankfully able to find a picture on my phone and yes he let me go with a warning. Another time a police car was behind me at the traffic lights, and it was red. When the traffic light turned green, the police siren went off, and I thought there was a criminal before me. I did the same shit the guy before me did and pulled over to the grass on the right. Next thing you know I was the criminal lol. The cop asked me why I didn’t let him cross. Apparently I was supposed to because his lights were on. Yep, I used my Psyche magic trick. I made them eye contact, and I was let go with a warning. There were worse situations I got away with other people wouldn’t have, but I don’t want to get in trouble by saying it lol. This special effect affects anybody I make eye contact with when I’m in an emotional state. A blessing in disguise for sure.

Yep, I also got Eros conjunct my Rising in the 1st house. This aspect is supposed to exude sensual vibes. I have other asteroids and placements bringing in crazy shit to my life lol. I have come to the realization though that when I attempt to charm someone, my Eros emerges. I know it’s my Eros because with the other aspects and placements, they are apparent when I’m being myself, as my situation resonates with their description. Back to Eros topic-> men usually stiffen up from the tension they feel from me. I could tell from that eye contact. I know this sensation because when I was in high school, I had a crush on this dude. I would purposely turn on this innocent charm of mine, but to him, it was sexual. He got a boner in class. I can make others feel sexual around me. I don’t want to think about it, lol. Although the impact of this asteroid tends to be more sexual, it tends to be more positive and not abrupt. To simplify, I have never had a negative reaction from this aspect, but if anything, it strengthens my influence. When people feel a sense of sexual tension, they respect my space.

A girl who had Sun conjunct Venus aspect worked at my workplace briefly. Man, she drew everyone’s attention towards her. Shit, even I liked being around her. It was honestly so hard to judge her. It’s like you automatically accept people with this aspect and their energy. I’m the type of person who likes to intuitively feel out a person and can tell who I should cut off or maintain a relationship with. It’s so fucking hard to do that with people who have Sun conjunct Venus man. They can probably commit a crime and people will be like “I understand”. Crazy! People with this aspect can be celebrities and have people worship them for their identity/personality. Like Lisa Manoban (Blackpink), Tyla Seethal, Robert Downey, Dylan O' Brien, etc.

Capricorn Sun & Rising individuals have this aura about them where you got to respect them. They give off this persona of self-confidence. My cancer ass only wishes, lol. These individuals are usually the ones people be like “She comes off as bitchy” or “He must be a fuck boy”. You know how Gemini’s have this dual personality shit, and people know to stay away bc their behavior screams fake. Well, the thing is, that’s how you can describe a Capricorns appearance. They come off as cold, but when they want to, watch out for that cuteness and childlike expression. Yes, I have fallen for Capricorn risings *twice*. I also had a Capricorn friend who can pull in men that fall for her dual persona. I witnessed it first hand. She's seen as cute, but holds quite the flame.

Any planets aspecting Mars screams dominance and assertiveness. If the aspect is with the Sun then they got daddy personality, Rising then they got some manliness features or dressing sense, Mercury will be their dominant communication skill, etc. My feminine self wishes to get me some mercury conjunct Mars or MC conjunct Mars man. What a turn on. Need to stop daydreaming, lol. But seriously tho, it has Alpha effect.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-six of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Hey there, babe,” Bernard says, and Kon feels him flash Tim an easy grin as he rubs his fingertips up the back of his neck in little strokes. “Color?” 

“Green,” Tim says, simple and matter-of-fact, and Kon apparently actually still had some brain left to wreck because hearing Tim’s voice again and hearing Tim’s voice say “green” just reduced it all to bubbling glop.

“Nice,” Bernard says, then adds conversationally: “Your boy was really good, just stayed cuddled up to me all cute the whole time and got real excited for playtime. He definitely missed you, though. Pined a little bit at the window and all, you know how pets get.” 

“Tim,” Kon says without making any real conscious decision to, and it comes out fucking breathy. Tim drops a kiss in behind his ear; squeezes his and Bernard’s linked hands once more before dropping his hand down to his thigh and stroking down to hook underneath it. Kon makes some kind of a noise, he thinks, but can’t hear it over his own thrumming heartbeat. “Tim, I–Rob, can I–” 

“Stay, pet,” Tim murmurs, steadier than any other voice he knows, and everything in Kon’s head that isn’t about him instantly dissolves into nothing. It’s–nothing. It’s all nothing. There’s nothing else there at all. 

“Seriously, you two are way too good at that,” Bernard says, which Kon’s pretty sure he only actually hears because Bernard is Tim-adjacent enough to count as a thing that’ll stay in his head right now. Tim kisses his pulse; squeezes the underside of his thigh. 

“Practice makes perfect,” Tim murmurs, and Kon’s whole brain evaporates and takes everything that isn’t floaty melty-soft rightness with it. They’ve never–they’ve never done this before. 

They’ve done this too many fucking times to even count. 

“Clearly, yeah,” Bernard says with a breathless laugh, and Tim’s fingertips brush in along Kon’s rim and up against where it’s stretched around Bernard’s cock. Kon feels too blissed-out to even react for the contact, but it feels good. Not quite as good as the cock inside him and arms around him, maybe, but still really, really good. 

It’s Tim, so obviously it does. 

“You did a good job,” Tim observes musingly, rubbing just one finger in along the seam right where they’re joined. Kon moans this time, though it’s so quiet he barely even hears it himself, and Bernard buries a rough huff in against his hair. “He’s a lot more relaxed.” 

“Feels like it, yeah,” Bernard says, still a little breathless as he presses a kiss in against Kon’s temple and squeezes his arms around him a little tighter. “Like I’ve got an entire friggin’ punching bag sitting on my dick, except sexy. Dunno how that works but I’m into it, not gonna lie.” 

“Not really surprised to hear that, considering,” Tim says, and then very gently slides a fingertip up into Kon’s body beside Bernard’s dick, easy as anything. Kon is definitely not the only one who hears himself moan this time. “Mm. He took that really well, didn’t he.” 

“Jesus, Tim,” Bernard says, his voice a little strangled. “Did you not just color over this idea?” 

“If I hadn’t taken a minute, I wasn’t going to be able to do it as well as my boy deserves,” Tim replies. Kon feels . . . blurry, a little, and isn’t sure what they’re talking about. But then Tim just gently works another finger up inside him and Bernard makes a tight little noise against his temple and he buries another moan in the other’s shoulder and decides he doesn’t really care anyway. It’s fine. Tim’ll tell him if there’s anything he needs to do. Or . . . know, he guesses. 

“Oh, but I’m supposed to last for this?” Bernard says, and it comes out borderline a wheeze. 

“You’ve got better stamina than me on a normal day, babe,” Tim replies, sounding amused, and Kon feels him take a moment to give Bernard an affectionate little smile that he really wishes he could actually see. 

It’s not . . . it’s not like it’s for him anyway, but . . . 

“Now he tries to win me over with flattery,” Bernard grumbles, then laughs even more breathlessly than the last time and curls his fingers against the back of Kon’s neck and around his fingers. “I’m getting Batted right now, aren’t I.” 

“You’re getting Timmed, babe,” Tim hums, leaning up over Kon’s back to press a kiss to Bernard’s mouth. Kon can feel that too, and it’s a soft and familiar and lingering thing, and they both clearly know how to expect the other to kiss; clearly’ve done it–clearly’ve done it–

Too many fucking times to even count, Kon thinks. 

His gut sort of–tightens, a little, something weirdly longing twisting up inside it, and he wants . . . he thinks he wants . . . 

He really wants kissed right now, he thinks, and buries his face in even tighter against Bernard’s shoulder. 

They’re being really nice to him. He doesn’t need to be–greedy, or whatever.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Merry Christmas, baby.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader Rating: just a little tiny bit of smut so still +18 but it’s mostly a huge pile of angst and fluff soooo Words Count: 10669 😵‍💫 Tags: POV second person, reader wears dresses, skirts, blouses and heels, she uses make up, she’s a journalist and a writer, no physical description of her is given besides having hair, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn, loss of a parent, infidelity, divorce, mention of food, alcohol consumption, both reader and Pike are bad at feelings, swearing, slurs, dirty talk, quarrels, reconciliations, funeral, sharing a bed, kissing, sad thoughts, casual encounters, mention of coffee, mention of spring break activities, geography probably a bit random (but I looked at the maps, don't jump down my throat, I did research and I've actually been to Boston many years ago, I tried my best lol), brief mention of Teresa. I hope I haven't forgotten anything, if so I'll add it immediately. A/N: Written for @pedrostories Secret Santa event, hello @letsgobarbs, I’m your Secret Santa! 🤶 Happy Christmas Eve, I hope you'll have a wonderful holiday season! 🎄 I hope you enjoy this story and I hope you find the angst, yearning and pining you wanted. Among the characters you had indicated as favorites there was Pike and I liked the idea of ​​trying to write him for the first time, he is so sweet and cute and he deserves to be happy, I hope I gave him an ending worthy of him 🥹 I apologize if you find any mistakes, English is not my first language and I don't have a beta so I did it all with just one pair of stupid and tired eyes 😵‍💫

A huge thanks goes to all the lovely people who supported me through the process while I was having a full crisis about everything in this fic 😂 @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @arcanefox207 @joelmillerisapunk I love you all, happy holidays 🥰

1990

“So what do you think?” 

“Um...you're good” You've just heard the ugliest Take on Me cover ever, but you can't tell the guy standing in front of you and looking at you with hopeful eyes. 

Marcus is your best friend, you've known him for a couple of years, since both of you were two dorky freshmen at your new school. You were looking for the literature room and wandering lost in the hallways when Marcus asked if you needed help. You bonded right away because you didn't know anyone else, you had just moved to Sacramento because of your father's job and he was from Texas, so it had seemed natural to lean on each other.

Over time you had become such good friends that he had met your parents, he would often stay for dinner, and your dad would let him use your garage to rehearse with his band. 

Marcus had put up flyers at school and enlisted two other boys, Timmy and Dave, who became the guitarist and keyboardist of Rocket Baby Doll. The name of the band was terrible, they were terrible, but you had never had the courage to tear them down in the face of Marcus's enthusiasm, he was sure that by continuing to rehearse they would make great progress. 

With his smooth talk, Marcus had managed to convince the committee to let them play at the freshmen's Christmas dance.

“You'll see that one day we'll be on the cover of Rolling Stone,” Marcus joked. Or at least you hoped he was joking because otherwise you wouldn't know how to talk him out of it. 

Marcus was a dreamer and he liked to do it big. He wanted to be a musician, or maybe an FBI agent, he told you. Two careers that had nothing to do with each other, but you knew that if anyone could afford to have ambitions it was him. Marcus was tenacious, persistent, dedicated, and never afraid to work hard to get what he wanted.  He certainly wasn't going to end up on the cover of Rolling Stone, but in your heart you were certain he was going to accomplish something important.

He was the kind of boy mothers liked, in fact yours loved him. When you needed math tutoring, he would come to your house totally for free and explain whatever you didn’t understand.

When Molly Preston wanted to exclude you from the winter dance because her ex-boyfriend, Ryder, had asked you out, he had been the one to give her a speech.

When you had a bad day Marcus would take you to get your favorite ice cream, you would talk for hours, and in the end he was the only one who could cheer you up.

Whatever problems you had, Marcus was there for you landing an helping hand. 

You knew your mother not too secretly hoped you would get together but it never happened, Marcus was your friend, just a great friend.

“Come on, my mom made cookies for everyone,” you told him as he continued to fantasize about what you might do. You would be their manager and you would both become rich and famous. He just couldn't keep his feet on the ground, even though he was a very good student and even had better grades than you.

You were 17 years old, your whole lives ahead of you, and you hoped that you will remain friends for many years to come.

_____________________________________________

1993

“What do you mean there is only one room available! We had booked two!” 

Marcus had yelled at the front desk of a motel where you stopped for the night. 

The owner, a rather creepy guy with a long scar on his right cheek, slumps in his shoulders, heedless “If you want number 12 is free, otherwise you can take your asses somewhere else for all I care.”

Marcus was fuming. 

It was spring break, any hotel was totally booked, and the possibilities were already significantly reduced given your pockets. 

You didn't even want to come; you had just broken up with Derek, your college boyfriend, and were back at your parents' house with the intention of spending your vacation there healing your wounds. Vegetating on the couch, reading books, watching movies, just relaxing. That was what you wanted to do. But Marcus had insisted, “Erik, Alice, Kate and Robert are in San Diego, let's join them!” 

You had shaken your head and declined “No way, I've seen enough wild college parties and besides, I'm not really in the mood.” 

“Oh come on, you don't want to spend Spring Break crying over that jerk,” he had said, shrugging and looking at you with his big brown puppy-dog eyes. 

“Marcus, I really don't feel like it.” 

“Come on, please do it for me! You'll see we'll have fun, they're nice!” Surrounding yourself with drunk and stoned 20-year-olds was the least of your desires. 

But on the other hand you felt you couldn't say no to him, it had been months since you had seen each other, your relationships had been reduced to long letters and phone calls telling each other about each other's schools.

You had chosen different colleges, Marcus had been accepted at Berkeley in California and you were at Boston University. You had changed coast, climate, everything. You were content but adjusting the first months had not been easy, you felt homesick and you missed your best friend. You were happy for him, you had known since your senior year that you were going to separate but that hadn't made it easy for you. 

You had only seen each other in person at Thanksgiving.

He had been forced to go to his relatives in Nevada for Christmas.

So you got dragged down to San Diego, because deep down Marcus was right, brooding all vacation about the relationship with Derek would not be good for you. You had had other guys before him but Derek had been special, until you found out he was cheating on you. You cried for hours on the phone with Marcus and he listened to you the whole time so maybe you owed him a little too.

After insisting on getting at least a room refund, Marcus had turned to you displeased “apparently we have no other choice.” 

“We'll adjust” you had smiled, but you couldn't deny that you were a little nervous. 

Once in the room he, too, seemed self-conscious. 

There was a double bed with a hideous floral bedspread in the middle of the room, brownish carpeting on the floor, dingy pictures hanging on the walls, and an old dresser on the opposite side of the bed with a rickety TV on it.

A smell of cheap deodorant with a musty undertone wafted around. It was the worst room I had ever set foot in, but at this point there was nothing you could do but make it okay. Sleeping in the car didn't seem so appealing.

You had set your bags down and looked at each other awkwardly “This room is awful,” Marcus had whispered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand “I'm sorry, it didn't look that bad from the brochure.” 

“It's not your fault, I bet those pictures were taken at least 20 years ago” you had laughed ”it will do for one night” 

You had retrieved your pajamas from the suitcase and went to the bathroom. The light blue tiles made it look like a hospital, there was an old plastic curtain in the shower and the sink looked like it had been through a war but at least it looked clean. There was a strong smell of disinfectant that made you a little nauseous. You had changed quickly and returned to your room to Marcus who was sitting on the bed intent on calling his parents “Yes mom, everything is fine, we will be back tomorrow. Yes, sure, don't worry I'll definitely say hello to her, she's in her room now” You had noticed that he had not said anything about your misadventure, you had sat down smiling on the opposite side of the bed trying to be silent. 

Marcus had rolled his eyes closing the call “she is so old-fashioned.” 

You had laughed “I find her lovely” 

Marcus had chuckled “we'd better sleep, we have a lot of driving tomorrow. Are you okay with that side?”

“Yes, it’s fine” you had nodded ”however I'd rather get this bedspread out of the way, it gives me nightmares even when awake” 

Marcus had observed it agreeing that yes, it was rather eerie.

You had taken it off and laid it on the dresser before slipping under cold, scratchy and wrinkled sheets.

You looked at each other and burst out laughing, the situation was comical to say the least. “God, I think I won't forget this bed for a long time,” Marcus had said. 

“It feels like being in a burlap sack.” You had laughed.

“Could you not squirm like that?” 

“Sorry, I'm just looking for ways to be comfortable,” you had said, ”Mattress is lumpy.” 

You had laid on your side with your back to him and closed your eyes, trying to sleep. 

“So, did you have a good time?” you had heard Marcus whisper.

“Yes” you had replied “thank you” And it was true, his friends were really nice. You had bonded with the girls and exchanged addresses and phone numbers “you were right, I needed a vacation”

“I know, I'm always right” he had sentenced from the other end of the bed.  

You had turned to look at him "oh sure, like the other night when we ended up at that beach party and you said it was allowed and then we had to run away because the police were coming?”

“It was just a little misjudgment!” He retorted.

You had burst out laughing again “come on, sleep, Mr I know everything”

Marcus had turned off the lamp on the bedside table, next to the phone with which he had just called his mother “Hey...I need to tell you something” you had heard him say. 

“What?” the tone had suddenly changed and you felt confused, you looked over your shoulder at him in the dark. 

“I kissed Alice the other night” he seemed awkward in telling you and you didn't understand why.

“Oh. Well, good for you. She's a lovely girl” he was your friend, you were happy for him. 

If it weren't for the fact that you secretly hoped he would kiss you. You'd been thinking about it for a few days, ever since you'd seen him come out of the water while you were at the beach.

It had seemed to you that everything had started moving in slow motion, your eyes glued to his tanned skin, to his broad shoulders, to the way the water slid over his chest in little droplets that died on the waistband of his swimsuit. It was a feeling you had never experienced before in five years of knowing him. You had never seen Marcus as anything more than a friend, but in that moment, with his hair disheveled, his skin wet, a smile plastered on his face as he told you and the others that ocean was great, he had seemed like a vision, and you had felt your cheeks heat up. 

Where on earth that attraction came from you didn't know, but it had hit you hard and clear, like a bump on the head that had suddenly awakened you. You had convinced yourself that your brain was doing this to protect you from painful memories with Derek, lingering on your closest friend who had never let you down. Your trust in men was at its lowest, and Marcus had always reassured you, kept you out of trouble, and he was most reliable guy you had ever known.

He said he would do something and he always, unfailingly did it. You could not say the same about Derek or any other guy you had ever been with.

You had tried to chase that feeling away, burying it in the corner of your mind for all the following days; you didn't want to ruin the friendship between you, and you were pretty sure he didn't feel the same way about you.

Sure, you thought you kissed him on your 18s birthday while you were drunk, but the next morning you were so ashamed that you hadn't even told him about it, pretended you didn't remember anything and that it had never happened. Marcus had done the same, and everything had ended there. Two years had passed since that night, you had gone to college, you had both had more or less long relationships.

That one kiss was now so far away that you had listed it among “once-in-a-lifetime mistakes.”

"I wanted to tell you, that's it. Friends tell each other everything, right?"

“Yes, of course, you can tell me anything, I’m happy for you” you replied 

You had listened to Marcus talk about the girls he liked dozens of times and you had never cared, you would have certainly forgotten it, it was just a passing crush, you told yourself. That annoyance you felt, that bitter taste in your throat, would disappear after a night's sleep. Your friendship was more important, you wouldn't have ruined it just because your brain had thought it interesting to make it something more.

Yet when you had tried to sleep all you had seen was Marcus kissing Alice. You had not seen them, fortunately, but it was not a hard scene to imagine, and unfortunately it was now implanted in your brain. His strong arms holding her, his soft lips resting on hers, her surrounding his neck with her arms, her pelvis rubbing against his. Suddenly you couldn't stand it. You had narrowed your eyes, cursing your creative mind, grunting in frustration. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” had asked Marcus from the other side of the bed.

You had lied, of course, but you had kept brooding until you fell asleep exhausted by the workings of your brain.

In the morning you had woken up confused, not at all rested, and in his arms.

Your face was resting on his chest next to your hand. How had you ended up there like that? You didn't know. You felt like you didn't know anything anymore. 

He was blissfully asleep. He seemed unaware of anything as your throat was dry, your head ached, and your pussy throbbed. Yes, throbbing, desperately. The warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, that knowledge you felt inside that this was exactly what you wanted and you couldn't even quantify how long you had wanted it.

And the panic that had seized you immediately afterward. You were convinced it was a mistake, the most terrible mistake you could make. So why did it feel so right? Why did his body feel like it was made for you? Oh no, no you couldn't allow that. Certainly he had no idea whatsoever about the situation, there was no way he was aware and let you do it, it was all your fault. 

You were going to ruin everything, your friendship, your relationship with the one man who really seemed to understand and support you. And for what? To fuck him once? It wasn't going to work between you romantically. You were going to have to spend two more years away seeing each other only during the holidays to begin with, and then you were both stubborn, too proud...no, it was wrong, you didn't care what your body told you, you had to let your brain prevail.

You slowly slipped away, back to your side of the bed, practically holding your breath, cursing yourself and your heart that wouldn't stop hammering in the middle of your chest.

He had woken up shortly after, acted as usual, getting up, stretching in his T-shirt and basketball shorts, mumbled good morning to you and locked himself in the bathroom. 

Your eyes had slid lasciviously over his body, stealing glances of his exposed skin between his T-shirt and shorts, of his broad shoulders stretching the fabric, of his thighs...

All while you wanted to sink into a black hole and disappear forever. You sank your face into the pillow to keep yourself from screaming. 

And what was worse was that you had to carry the burden of what you felt alone because the person you would normally talk to about it was the one you were longing for. Wonderful, a wonderful situation. 

When he had come out of the bathroom, with his beautiful smile and that rough voice that he always had early in the morning you almost lost control. You were about to beg him to join you in bed. Ugh, your 20s, uncontrollable, stupid, senseless hormones.

“What are you waiting for? Come on, go get dressed, we have to leave,” he had told you, in the same friendly and vaguely mocking tone as always. 

“Oh. yes, thank you, I promise I will be quick.” You had stammered.

You got up, grabbed some random clothes from your suitcase, your beauty case and went to the bathroom to shower and change. He would be ready in 10 minutes at most so he would always let you go to the bathroom first, to give you time to do your makeup and fix your hair. Marcus knew that about you, too, and he was okay with that. 

You closed the door behind you, feeling the tears stinging your eyes. You had managed to hold them back until that moment, but in the shower, covered by his of the water, they had flowed copiously and salty down your cheeks. 

____________________________________________

2000

“Hey! How are you! My goodness, long time no see!” 

You had met him at the supermarket, as you were going around the shelves intent on shopping for your mother. 

You were back at your parents' house for Thanksgiving with your husband, John. 

The last person you thought you would see was him. 

“Marcus!” you had squeaked.

“I am fine! How are you? And Danielle?” 

Your mother had taken it upon herself to inform you that he had also married, had no children, and had become a detective. 

“Danielle is just fine, she is right there down the aisle picking potatoes according to my mother's exact instructions,” he had rolled his eyes, chuckling.

Damn, you had thought, he's breathtakingly handsome. 

You hoped that in all the years you had lost touch with each other he would have lost at least some of his hair like his father, but apparently he had not inherited that gene. His hair was thick and healthy as usual, he wore a gray T-shirt under a black leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. You hated the way he could put on two random things and look so damn perfect while you felt like you had spent your whole life in front of your closet wondering what to wear. And even more you hated his smile, so friendly and sweet, that it hadn't changed at all. 

He seemed genuinely glad to see you. 

You had lost touch with each other after graduation, despite the advent of cell phones, computers, and email. Your friendship had survived handwritten letters, postcards, prepaid phone cards but still crumbled eventually. You were on the opposite coast, intent on your master's degree, dreaming of becoming a writer; he was hooked on a career in law enforcement. 

The letters had become fewer and fewer, as had the phone calls, and eventually what was there had simply slipped away as the months passed, the commitments increased, and each of you tried to become the adult you had dreamed of being.

You had thought it was much better this way, you had stifled your feelings for him for another four years before accepting that nothing would ever happen. You had dated other guys in the meantime, but Marcus had always remained in your mind as the perfect guy you could never have. It was only when you had met John that you had allowed yourself to think that maybe it could work with someone who was not your old friend. He was understanding, sweet, supportive, present and caring with you. John was a really good guy and so you had finally decided to marry him. He had asked you one spring day at the Public Garden, while you were eating a lobster sandwich under a tree in front of the pond, watching the swans. Your offices were close by, so you tried to spend your lunch break together as often as you could. You had gotten a job at the Boston Globe, were in charge of the wedding column, and wrote romance novels in your spare time, sending manuscripts left and right in the hope that some editor would notice them. John was a stockbroker, pragmatic, punctual and very thorough in his work as much as he was sweet and attentive with you. 

“How about we get married?” he simply had said to you, with his mouth full. You had laughed, thought he was joking, until you noticed his serious and hopeful look and exclaimed “oh my God, yes!” throwing your sandwich in the air and wrapping your arms around his neck. That was all you wished for. You had moved in together in a beautiful house downtown, not very big but lovely, you had fallen in love with it as soon as you saw it. It was bright and warm, the right place to start your life with John.

You had, of course, sent an invitation to Marcus as well, but he had declined, saying he was very busy with work. You had kind of tied it on your finger and so you had decided that he might as well get out of your life after all. Times change, people change, all I can do is move on and try to forget how I feel about him by devoting myself to my relationship with John, you thought.

Now that you had him in front of you again though, he looked the same as he always did, only grown. And your heart had skipped a beat the instant you recognized his voice greeting you.

“How long do you plan to stay?” you had asked out of pure courtesy. 

“About a week, we were able to take a few days to relax a bit. We're always working like crazy, you know, we both needed to get away for a while. How about you?” 

“Yes, us too, by the way if you remember Sunday is my father's birthday and my mother really wanted us to be there.” 

“I guess. By the way, I'm sorry. My mother told me when we arrived.” 

Your father had been ill for several months and unfortunately there was little left to do at that point. He was slowly fading away and it would probably be the last Thanksgiving you would spend together.

“I thank you. Oh here's John. John this is Marcus, an old friend of mine. Marcus, this is John, my husband.”

“Nice to meet you, Marcus,” John had said, shaking his hand. 

“Honey, I'm done, shall we go?” had chirped Danielle's voice as she approached you. 

“Yes love, but first let me introduce you to an old friend of mine and her husband” Marcus had told her softly. 

“Oh it's you! Marcus has told me several times about you! It's nice to finally meet you in person.”

Danielle was beautiful, dark hair, blue eyes and delicate features, a little nose that looked as if it had been drawn by an artist, full lips, high cheekbones and a well-proportioned chin. Her voice was melodious and sweet and she looked at you with an excited and surprised expression, " He didn't tell me you were so pretty!" 

“Oh, thank you, you are too,” you had said, slightly embarrassed by such kindness. At that point John had held you proudly, as if you were his greatest prize. His arm had wrapped around your waist, and his eyes looked at you lovingly "didn't she? I'm lucky that she married me." 

Danielle had laughed graciously and shook his hand introducing herself, while you and Marcus looked at each other almost studying each other, as if you were both trying to figure out how happy you actually were in your marriages.

That habit of worrying about each other had not gone away; after all, you had been close friends for quite a few years, and your friendship had faded not because of a quarrel, but because of distance and becoming busy adults. And because you had to get over the crush you had on him, of course, but you had never told him that. 

“Well, we have to go now, anyway come and see us if you can. My mother would love to see you again,” Marcus had said before offering to push the cart full of food that his wife had left beside you and start toward the checkouts. 

“We'll try, thank you,” you had nodded. You definitely should have helped your mother, tried to soothe her at least a little from the strain of caring for your father 24/7; you didn't know how much more time would be left for other things. 

You had watched them walk off together from behind, down the canned food aisle where you had retrieved the ready-made cranberry sauce you would never have time to prepare. 

They were a good-looking couple, really, attractive, well-dressed, Danielle looking impeccable in a pair of jeans that bandaged her while highlighting her curves, a red blouse that matched her complexion, and a pair of vertiginous heels on which you didn't even know how to walk. She seemed to do it without any problem. 

“We should go too, honey” John's voice had brought you back down to earth. 

_________________________________________

Once home John had announced to your mother that you had met your old friend at the supermarket, and of course she was thrilled, “Oh, he's such a nice guy, I saw him and his wife the other day walking downtown, they are such a nice couple, aren't they?” 

John had agreed, taking a beer from the fridge “really” 

“Well, like you, of course” your mother had added, looking at you softly. 

And it was true, you were fine with John, he was a good person, a hard worker, he treated you like a princess. What more could you want? 

Yet since you had seen him again, Marcus's face had made room in your mind. The intrigued way he had looked at you, as if trying to understand everything that had happened to you in the years you had not been in touch, the way his arms were reaching out to embrace you when John had arrived, a barely imperceptible movement that only you had noticed because you knew him better than the palm of your hand, the dimple that had popped up on his cheek as he smiled at you, the usual one you had grown to love so much.

You had pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to drive it from your mind “Are you okay love?” had asked John immediately. 

“Yes, I just have a little headache, I'll get something later,” you had lied, hurrying to put away the rest of the groceries. 

What annoyed you the most was that it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in your twenties and you had woken up hugging him in the bed of that dingy motel. It was absurd. You had worked so hard to move on and now it felt like you were back where you started. 

You couldn't let that happen, you wouldn't let your marriage be disrupted by a casual 10-minute meeting with him. 

You would not have gone to his house, no matter how much you would have liked to see his mother who had always been so kind to you. 

You had other things to think about anyway; your father was stuck in a hospital bed that you had managed to get him to be more comfortable. He had been put in the guest room on the ground floor, next to the bathroom, he couldn't do the stairs, and it was also easier for your mother to accompany him. The strong and generous man he had been was wearing out before your eyes, and it was a terribly painful image. You knew he had little time left, and you didn't want to waste it chasing the ghosts of the past when you had a husband who was helping you and hugging you every night trying to lessen your pain. 

Your Thanksgiving dinner had been unique to say the least, each of you shuttling from the dining room to your father's to spend some time with him, making sure he had everything he needed, helping him eat and drink. You had marveled at how gentle and patient John was with your dad, the big man you had married, one with two shoulders like a football player, feeding your father fruit jelly almost more gracefully than you. 

You knew how fond he was of your dad, they had hit it off right away, but you didn't know how much he was willing to sacrifice for him. You were moved.

___________________________________________

Your father was gone four days later. You and John were supposed to leave for Boston the next morning instead you had to call in to work, cancel your flight, call your trusty neighbor Marge to ask her to look at your house, pick up your mail, and water your plants. 

You were crushed and at the same time overwhelmed with bureaucracy so you couldn't stop. You had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, got dressed in a hurry to go to the funeral home to deliver the suit with which you had decided to bury your father, then went to do some paperwork with the insurance company and finally to the church to arrange with the pastor the time of the service and the proceedings. When you left the church you felt an emptiness in your stomach, your head was spinning, you had eaten barely a sandwich in the last two days. 

You knew you were about to collapse, saw a café across the street from the church, and went inside to get a croissant and cappuccino to go. 

When you came out you found yourself in front of Danielle. She was so sorry, of course your mother had informed Marcus's mother and they would be attending the funeral. Danielle hugged you as if you were her sister, telling you that she understood you because she too had lost her father a few years earlier and even though you didn't know each other well you could have called her if you needed anything. 

You had thanked her and headed for the car, locked yourself in and took a couple of minutes to chug your croissant and drink your cappuccino. At least partially regenerated from the late breakfast you had headed back home, where John and your mother were waiting for you.

In the car you had been thinking about how kind Danielle had been and how lucky Marcus was to be with her.

The next day you had put on a sober black suit that you used for the office and probably wouldn't be able to wear again after that day, put on just enough makeup, helped John put on his tie, and headed for church with him and your mom. 

All three of you were exhausted, grieving, trying to hold the pieces together as best you could with each other's help but your dad's absence was hard to bear. You wished you could have woken up and found it had been just a nightmare, you wished you could have hugged him and talked to him and he, as he had always done, would have found the words you needed most.

There was only one other person who could soothe your worries in the same way your dad could, and that person was Marcus. 

John had been able to be there for you anyway, with actions more than words, taking tasks to take away from you, relieving you of burdens you could not carry alone, and for that you were infinitely grateful. He was a good husband. 

After the service, under his arm, you left the church behind your mother. You had lost count of the number of people who had come to hug you, faces you had never seen, work colleagues of your father's whom you had never met, old childhood friends, the church was full of people who had come to remember him fondly. This pleased you, but it was strange to you at the same time. You wished you had some time to yourself, alone, to try to catch your breath and rationalize at least some of what had happened, that blender of emotions that had shaken and sucked you in. 

You had made your way to the cemetery, walking along the path that led to the family grave where your grandparents were buried you had felt like you were in a muffled bubble where everything moved in slow motion, barely sensing John's presence beside you. 

When you had arrived, you had looked up for only a moment and before you had seen Marcus's. You had not noticed his presence in the church, busy as you were with hugging and greeting, you had seen only his mother but he had remained in the background, respecting your grief. Just as you wished others had done. There was nothing more to be said, he always knew what you needed, no matter how many years had passed, he could still read you like an open book just like when at 18 he had realized that your highest aspiration was to become a writer without even the need to make it explicit in words. 

His eyes were swollen and reddened; it was obvious that he was moved. Beside him was Danielle with a pair of dark glasses covering her face, clutching his arm elegantly and dignifiedly. 

You had smiled weakly at him, thanking him with your eyes, and he had smiled back, looking at you with the sweetest, sorriest eyes I had seen that day. 

___________________________________________

You had stayed behind to watch the final burial operations, while John had driven your mother back to the car, who had burst into convulsive tears, crushed by the realization that she had lost forever the man she had loved most in the world. 

You had felt a hand barely graze your shoulder, you had turned around and saw Marcus standing there on the grass “hey” As soon as you had seen him the impulse to hug him had come to you spontaneously, he had welcomed you into his arms, stroking your head, wrapping you against his chest, trying to comfort you. 

Being close to him still felt like home, his warmth immediately made you feel calmer, less alone, and not that John couldn't do that but with Marcus it was different. He had always been different in a way that was impossible to explain but that you felt hammering hard in your heart.

“Thank you,” you had whispered, with the tears you had finally allowed yourself to shed wetting your cheeks and his shirt. 

“Don't mention it,” he had whispered, continuing to hold you close. 

You had lingered a little longer in his embrace before pulling away and asking where Danielle was. 

"She went home with my mom. I stayed in case you needed anything.” 

“It's okay, thank you, there was no need,” you stammered lyingly. Yes you needed him, now more than ever, and he knew it well. 

“Your mother and John?” 

“Aunt Maggie drove them home, they left my mom's car with me.”

“Do you want me to drive?” she had asked and all you could do was nod ”please. But then how are you going to get back?” 

“I'll call Danielle, don't worry” he had encircled your waist with an arm as he walked you to the car. He had opened the door and helped you get in, even buckled your seat belt no matter how hard you had tried to insist you could do it yourself. 

Marcus did not spare himself when it came to caring for others. 

He had climbed up on the driver's side and in a rush had hugged you back, there, inside the car, whispering, “You don't know how sorry I am, baby. Your father was a great man.” 

You had looked at him gratefully, amid tears that had begun to flow profusely again "thank you" 

He had kissed you, right after that. And the instant his lips had rested on yours, you had felt that you could not help yourself no matter how hard you had tried to bury your feelings all those years. There was something inexplicable that united you, a way of understanding each other that needed no words, as if you were made to recognize each other, to see inside each other's souls. You had read in his eyes that day in the supermarket how much he had missed you, and he had read the same in yours, and just before that you had felt the same need to have him near, in spite of John, Danielle, and anything else that told you it was wrong. Deep inside you had always known it was right, you had felt it from the moment you first met him. You had been crowing for years about people talking about soul mates, meetings of destiny, and things like that. But now you knew you had felt it. His soft lips on yours were like honey to your soul, you wished you could sink into that feeling, drown in that sea and never rise again.

You couldn't leave John though. Not after you had built a life together in Boston, not after he had supported and cared for you all those days. Not after all he had done for you. 

As much as it hurt to do so, you pulled away from his lips. “I’ve always thought about you, all these years,” he said. “I’m sorry, you know, I didn’t realize it before, that maybe we could be something more. I never told you, but I remembered that kiss we shared when we were 18 very well.” Marcus was a torrent of words and was saying everything you’d always wanted to hear. “And I remember the night in that motel, too, how you held me in your sleep. I…” You knew he was about to say something like “I love you” “I’ve always loved you,” and so you cut him off. “Marcus.” He paused, his mouth half open as he looked at you in shock. “It’s too late. We can’t. Maybe there was a chance a few years ago, but now? We’re both married, we have responsibilities, we have to be realistic. It’s not fair to Danielle and John. And I have a job and a life in Boston, I can’t just leave everything all of a sudden.”

“But I…” and you knew he was about to say those words again. “Please don’t say that. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

Marcus had fallen silent, looking down at his hands draped over his lap, and then said sadly, “I understand.”

You had just lost your father and now you were losing him too. It wasn’t fair, but it was the only thing to do. “Take me home, please.” He would have started the car without saying anything, driving to your house without looking at you again, perhaps afraid that he wouldn’t be able to let you go if he ever laid eyes on you again. 

You got out of the car just saying thank you, without hugging him because you knew it would have hurt even more.

____________________________________

2008

When John had told you that you should move to Washington DC, you had not taken it well. You did not want to leave Boston, the bright home where you had begun to build your new life, that city that had welcomed you. Starting all over again somewhere else, in a city you had never been to, seemed too much. 

In the end, however, you had accepted it; leaving John seemed even worse. And he had continued to be a good husband, so you saw no reason to part with him.

After all, he had received a good promotion, he had rented a house where you had found a familiar light again, it had big windows, high ceilings, big rooms. John made good money and had tried to accommodate you in everything. 

He had made it worth it all the way.

You had been struggling a bit to fit into the editorial staff of the new newspaper you had found work for. You were aiming for the Washington Post, but they had totally bounced you, which had been no small disappointment to digest. 

However, after all, your life had regained some meaning. 

It was now six months since you had moved, you hadn't heard from Marcus in eight years. And this time it was not because of distance, but because it had really hurt you to find out that he felt something too but it never seemed to be the right time for you. It would have been in 1993 perhaps, if you had had courage, if you had taken the risk of exploring your feelings together. He hadn't had the guts to tell you anything, you were too afraid, and when you had found common ground it had immediately collapsed. 

John had noticed that something was wrong, even he knew you well enough to know that it pained you not to hear from your friend again, and at times he had even urged you to call him. You had told him that he had said something unpleasant about Danielle while you were in the car and you had felt sorry for her, from there you had started to argue. It was a really boorish excuse and you were pretty sure John hadn't bought it but had played it off for the sake of quiet life. 

“Can you stop by the bank to deposit this check this morning?” he had told you that morning before leaving the house. You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and enjoying your day off. 

“Sure,” you had answered him, ”I'll go there before I go to the laundry to pick up my dress for tonight.” 

“Mmm the burgundy dress with that dizzying neckline?” he had told you as he leaned over to give you a kiss 

“Just that one” you had smiled as you returned the kiss and caressed his cheek ”you like it huh?”

“I'm looking forward to tonight” he had chuckled before leaving the house with his briefcase ”I'll be home at 7 o'clock okay?”

“Perfect, I'll be ready” you had thrown him a kiss and then curled up in your chair, finishing your coffee and admiring the view of the waking city outside. 

It was your anniversary, and he was going to take you to dinner at a French restaurant you had heard about in enthusiastic tones from your discerning colleague who was a food and wine critic. 

You had dressed quietly, gone out to do your chores, had a manicure appointment, then gone to pick up your dress at the dry cleaners and finally to the bank. 

As soon as you had left the bank you had bumped into a guy. 

You had looked up and been stunned. 

Marcus.

How was that possible? 

“Oh shit,” he had exclaimed.

His hair was slightly longer, he had grown a mustache and a beard but it was him, there was no doubt about it, you would have recognized him in a thousand. 

"What are you doing here?" you had asked him, widening your eyes, without a hello or how are you or anything else, you were too shocked. 

He was the last person you expected to see on your anniversary. 

Marcus had brushed his hand behind his neck, the gesture he always made when he was embarrassed “I got a big promotion” in a tone as if to apologize for existing in the same state as you, in the same city as you, for coexisting in the same environment as you.

“Whatever...I have to go, anyway, have a nice life,” you had tried to say quickly, to disengage yourself from that surreal situation. 

You had already turned your back on him when you heard him say “no wait...please...would you like to have a cup of coffee?”

You had turned silently to look at him. He couldn't have been serious. Yet he was.

And looking into those big brown pleading eyes, for some reason you had not been able to say no.

“All right,” you had replied with a shrug, ”I'll give you half an hour, then I'll have to go home.”

You went to sit in a café around the corner and ordered a cappuccino.

"So how are you?" you asked absentmindedly. 

“Danielle and I broke up last spring.” 

“Oh. I'm sorry.” It was like a blade through the chest to hear his voice again, to hear him say that he was single again and that his marriage was over. Somehow it made you feel guilty even though after eight years it was unlikely that the main reason for their breakup was you. 

“Yeah...she wanted children and for a while we tried but...” 

“Marcus please, I don't care, it's your business because it's over,” you cut off. 

You didn't have to get involved again. When you had thought back to your father's death and how he had confessed right afterwards you had been angry with him. Why had he done it at that time when you were so particularly vulnerable? It wasn't fair. 

"Sorry I-" he had babbled.  

“Never mind, never mind,” you had interrupted him again with a hand gesture. “Look, let's talk straight once and for all” you didn't know where all that aggression was coming from but it was growing inside you inexorably, like an infection ”why the hell are we here?” 

He had lowered his gaze to his cappuccino, then brought it back to you and stared at you in a way that made you feel naked and helpless. He still had an effect on you, and it pissed you off. “I miss you,” he had admitted under his breath, ”I miss talking to you and I miss having you around. I miss everything about you. When I saw you I couldn't believe it. But I know I can't let you leave without clearing things up.” 

“There's nothing left to clear up. It's over Marcus, can't you see that? There was never a right time for us.” 

“That's not true, I-” 

“Stop it! Look, I'm trying to live my life, you do it too,” you had screeched

“But-” 

“No 'buts'... Marcus, I'm tired. I'm tired of this running into each other and don't tell me it's fate because it's just pure randomness. John was transferred for work, now we live here, end of story. I'm still with him, okay? And I'm happy, so please leave me alone.” 

You could see his clenched fist on the coffee table, his eyes glazed with tears, his Adam's apple jumping as you mentioned John. He looked devastated. It was no longer your business anyway, so you had gotten up and made to leave, leaving a bill on the coffee table. “Don't look for me anymore.” 

Marcus had jumped up, his chair had fallen back crashing onto the pavement, and he didn't even seem to notice as he tried to stop you.

“Please” he had grabbed you by the sleeve of his jacket ”please.” 

You had turned back to him and looking into his eyes you had seen the little boy who asked you if he would ever be famous, the one who helped you with your homework, the 20-year-old who had involved you in the craziest vacation of your life, and then the adult who had broken your heart. 

“No.” you had whispered, ”no fucking way.” 

Marcus' face was a grimace of pain, as if in physical pain from your rejection, his shoulders hunched and his hand not letting go of you. He was pathetic and sweet at the same time.

His eyes were fixed in yours as he told you loud and clear, “I love you.”

I love you. 

You had longed to hear it come from his lips for so long that now it was like a lash that burned against your skin. You had stopped feeling like you were glued to the sidewalk, unable to take a step forward “What the hell! Did you have to tell me that? Was it necessary after I told you that I am still with my husband? Fuck, your timing is the worst thing ever. Do you know what day it is today? My wedding anniversary.” you had thrown up words at him angrily, feeling a knot in your stomach that nauseated you. 

“I don't want anything from you,” he had replied, his voice trembling, ”I just wanted you to know.”

“And now that I know according to you what have we solved? What have we gained? I'll tell you, absolutely nothing Marcus.” 

You had turned around and left, yelling at him, “I'll tell you again, don't ever look for me.” 

You had come home and taken a long hot bath, cried your last tears for him, and then decided it was John you had to think about, your special day. Marcus wasn't going to ruin it for you. You had prepared yourself carefully, put on the dress he liked so much, your favorite perfume, and waited for John. When he had come home you had driven out to a restaurant, had had a delicious dinner, sex as soon as you got home, and fallen asleep in his arms feeling that it was right. 

___________________________________

2010

“Love don't wait up for me, I'll be back late. I am so sorry, I love you.” 

It was already the fourth time in a week that he sent you such a message, by now John spent more time in the office than anywhere else. He had been given another promotion and was now mainly in charge of foreign exchanges, so he went to the office at impossible hours, came back later and later, and you barely saw him in the morning getting out of bed to jump in the shower. You hadn't had sex for at least a month, in those days you had talked more often with the mailman than with your husband.

Finally a publishing house had noticed you and they had published your book, you had gotten a chance to continue working for the newspaper by writing your articles from home so you could work on your second novel. 

You had huffed, looking at the screen, by now you were going to your friends' dinners alone, in those two years you had bonded with some couples in your neighborhood, and with a colleague from the newspaper and her husband. Every time you had been invited in the last three months John had declined, saying he had to work. 

You were beginning to feel really alone in your marriage, but you knew you had to try something. You still cared about John; you didn't want everything you had built together to be ruined. Sure, since he was earning more money he was showering you with unexpected and expensive gifts that certainly didn't make up for his absence, though. You had never been a materialistic person, no matter how beautiful the diamond bracelets and pearl necklaces and expensive shoes were, you missed falling asleep cuddled with your husband, feeling his caresses, having breakfast with him in the morning, spending a weekend together on the couch watching TV cuddling, simply spending time with him. For the past few weeks you had failed to write a word, you had hastily completed articles for the newspaper just to meet deadlines but your novel had stalled. You were busy cleaning to take your mind off things, you had joined the gym to force yourself to leave the house but then you would go back and find yourself spending entire evenings lounging around, not knowing what else to do. 

You had decided that night that you had to take matters into your own hands, put on a pretty dress, fixed your hair and make-up thoroughly, and then went out with the intention of surprising him. You were going to bring him his favorite dishes from your favorite Chinese restaurant to the office. 

When you had arrived at his workplace, you had looked up from the car window and seen the light on in his office. 

You had come down loaded with Chinese noodles and dumplings, and as you walked toward the entrance you had noticed his car parked not far away. 

You had taken the elevator with your heart in your throat, looking forward to seeing his happy face as he enjoyed a hot meal. The elevator had opened on the floor and you had started down the hallway leading to his office. There was no one there, everything was quiet and still, but the closer you got to his office the more you heard strange noises. Bellowing, hushed voices. 

The door was pulled over, you had pushed it slightly, and the scene that unfolded before your eyes was unsettling. 

Veronica, a married colleague of him whom you had met at the firm's Christmas party a few months earlier, was bent over John's desk, her skirt up, her panties down, her long legs covered by black hold-ups, her stilettos sinking into the Persian carpet under John's desk. And your husband holding her hips and sinking into her from behind. 

His shirt was hanging off his shoulders, his hair was disheveled, his neck tense and sweaty, as he stood there with his cool wool pants down, fucking his colleague. 

He grunted some words that you had never heard him say when you were having sex “Yeah, bitch, you like that huh? You like getting pounded by my cock huh? You're such a dirty slut, do you feel how wet you are for me?" 

You couldn't believe your eyes. Your sweet husband, the one who had stood by you so devotedly…where had that man gone? 

You dropped the bag with the Chinese dinner on the floor, the boxes had opened, and the noodles had spread all over the hardwood floor. “What the fuck?!”

John had turned around shocked, still with his cock inside his coworker “Oh shit. No, wait, honey I-” he had stepped out of her and tried to pull up his pants awkwardly ”please-fuck-I can explain.” 

“There's nothing to explain, you piece of shit!” you had yelled at him as he approached trying to stammer out some stupid excuse and had slapped him open-handed across the face as soon as he got in front of you ‘don't bother coming home’ you had added contemptuously.

“But love I-” he had pranced rubbing his cheek ”please-” 

“NO!” You had yelled “No, I don't want to hear your bullshit excuses, I don't want anything more to do with you, you disgust me!”

Veronica was standing in the corner buttoning her blouse and pulling down her skirt without meeting your gaze, her face hot and guilty.

Everything that you had sacrificed for that relationship, how you had followed him and reinvented your life for him, adapting to his needs, trying to build a happy nest for the two of you in Washington, all had been swept away. He had stomped on your marriage, your trust, your heart. 

You had driven home crying, risking missing a red light, had nailed down at the last moment with your heart bouncing inside your chest like a jackhammer. You had walked into the house throwing your purse and coat on the floor, throwing your shoes in the middle of the hallway and throwing yourself on the bed, hiding your face in the pillow with your head bursting, a sense of helplessness and defeat enveloping your temples, your chest, your stomach. 

It was over.

John had never come home, you had learned through his lawyer that he had rented an apartment near his office, and a week later he sent three big guys from a moving company to pick up his things.

You couldn't stay in that house anymore. Everything reminded you of him, the lies he had been telling you for months and what was even worse, all the happy moments you had lived in there in spite of yourself. 

You were dragging yourself from room to room without strength, you hadn't written anything anymore, you had told the editor of the newspaper that you were sick to have an excuse to delay the deadlines for your articles. 

You were tired, you were angry, you lacked the will to do anything, after three days without seeing you leave the house your friend Denise, who lived across the street had called you alarmed to see if you were all right, and hearing your dejected, fading voice had decided to use the keys you had given her in case of an emergency to come and check on you in person. 

You had not been able to lie to her; you had burst into tears and told her everything as soon as she asked you where John was. 

From that day she had been by every day bringing you dinner, making sure you ate, forcing you to shower, tidying up. You didn't know what you had done to deserve Denise in your life but you were incredibly grateful that she was there. 

Gradually you had forced yourself to take charge of your life again, started going out again pushed by your friends and even moved house, encouraged by them. You couldn't turn over a new leaf without getting out of there. 

And you had especially realized that you could walk with your head held high; you were not the one who had to be ashamed. 

And looking back on it, you had really overcome a lot in the last few years. The loss of your father, Marcus, your husband. All the men who had meant something to you in your life. 

You could have been proud that you did your best to stay on your feet. 

________________________________________________________

2011 

It had been a year since you had discovered John screwing his colleague.

You had tried dating men, without success, but things were going very well professionally. You had finally managed to finish your second book, and the publisher had been extremely pleased, so much so that he had arranged a series of meetings for you at bookstores around the country.  You had just returned from Ohio when you got a call from your mother inviting you for Christmas.

You had no desire to return to Sacramento, but how could you say no to your mom? She was left alone and it had not been easy for her. Your aunt and uncle lived nearby and took care of her but she had said she missed you a lot.

And she was so proud of you, she had asked you for copies of your books to give to all her friends, she was your biggest fan. You were happy to see her and spend time with her. 

And so, there you were at the airport, with a big suitcase, ready to get on yet another plane and fly across the country. 

You had just gotten an upgrade to business class and were in the private lounge of the area airline ordering yourself a martini when you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. 

Marcus. Again. 

“I swear I'm not following you,” he had raised his hands in surrender. 

“I know. I haven't seen you in three years, and we live in the same town.”

You had smiled; it wasn't bad to see his face again after all. 

“Martini?” He had asked pointing to your glass 

“Yeah. Can you please make another one?” You had said turning toward the bartender. 

You had sat at a small table with your cocktails “Are you going to see your mother?”

You had nodded, “You too?” 

“Yes, my parents were very insistent. Where is John?” 

“I have no idea,” you had squeezed into your shoulders taking a sip of your martini. 

“Oh, did you break up? I'm sorry, he seemed like a good man,” he had said.

“Apparently he wasn't since he was cheating on me with one of his colleagues.” 

“You should have better judgment anyway, aren't you a detective?” you had asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at him wryly 

Marcus had burst out laughing, “You're right, I should.”

And he had told you about the time he had fallen in love with someone named Teresa, a colleague of his, and had been left like a poor idiot the previous year, without realizing that she was in love with someone else. 

“It wasn't your fault, you know,” you told him sweetly, ”I know how you get when you have a crush.” 

“How do I become?” he had asked you with a sigh.

And you had replied with a smirk “Well, if you must know...naive, head in the clouds, like you live in a world of unicorns and fairies” 

“Really? A ridiculous clown? Is that what I become?” he had chuckled and then turned serious again ”Not with you, I hope”

You had laughed, you could have laughed at that point. Or maybe it was just the martini clouding your mind. 

“Whatever,” you had rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I'm sorry,” he had muttered.

“It's okay” you had smiled ”Really.”

At that moment they had announced boarding for your flight, so you had hurried to the gate together. 

You were both in business, so eventually you had sat next to each other and continued chatting. 

And it was nice, really nice. You were both single, more aware, you had reached an age where you could be honest with yourselves and you could joke about your dramas. 

“So you had noticed that I had hugged you that night huh?” 

“Sure. You pounced on me in my sleep and woke me up. I didn't want to embarrass you so I played it cool” she had smiled ”I thought you were sleepwalking and dreaming of hugging Keanu Reeves or whatever.” 

You had burst out in the loudest laugh you had had in years and then covered your mouth embarrassed that you had disturbed the other passengers. Fortunately those in your vicinity all had headphones on and were watching a movie. 

“Oh, come on” you had tapped his shoulder and then taken by you don't know what courage-probably the second martini you were downing-you had said ”the only one I dreamed of hugging was you.” 

“I didn't realize this until later...Now is there anyone you would like to hug by any chance?” he had whispered in your ear.

“Actually...yes” 

And there, in that plane, you kissed. For the first time without hindrance, without remorse, without drama, without fear. “I love you” he had whispered on your lips, and you had responded, finally free to say it ”I love you too.”

“So we'll try this time?” he had caressed your cheek, sliding his hand down your neck. 

“Yes” You had said ”definitely yes.”

“Your mother will be delighted” he had smiled, kissing you again “it's going to be a great Christmas.”

“Well, Merry Christman then” you whispered as your mouth moved down his neck.

“Merry Christmas, baby”

[bows4tyun]

ENLIGHTEN ME - ! ⸝⸝ 강태현

୨ৎ: ""I'm a virgin, not a virgin loser, there's a difference, dumbass." taehyun spat out harshly and scoffed, "I can't believe you thought so low of me, but it's cute of you to think I was a virgin loser like you." he faked a smile, angering you a bit. of course he had to be the smart ass one. "

𓍼 paring! - knowledgeable virgin!taehyun x virgin!reader (f)

𓍼 warnings! - roomates to ?, mean dom!taehyun (he's extra mean!), sub!reader, they kinda hate each other, taehyun basically teaches reader how to fuck, groping, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), cum consumption, unprotected sex, slut shaming, taehyun calls reader a slut (and bitch but only once)

𓍼 lexi adds! - as the winner of the poll, here is knowledgeable virgin tyun!!! this came out a lot longer than i thought and I couldn't help but make tyun an extra mean dom!

if someone had told you that your roommate, taehyun was a virgin, you wouldn't have believed them.

he was the last person on earth that you'd think of as a virgin, but apparently you thought wrong. it wasn't until his best friend, beomgyu had told you the truth that you were in for a treat.

taehyun had invited beomgyu over without telling you, meaning you had come back from work and had a mini heart attack when you saw beomgyu's sleeping form sprawled on the small living room couch.

"taehyun!" you yelled, your voice echoing through the hall of your shared apartment.

you thought he wasn't home until you saw the upper half of his body pop out from his room, "hm?" his tone innocent as his cold yet cute boba eyes stared at your angered form.

"what is he doing here?" you questioned, your voice loud as you turn your gaze to beomgyu, not caring of waking him up from his beauty sleep.

"would you quiet it down? you'll wake him up." he spoke back sternly. you look back at taehyun, and when you do you notice something, he's shirtless.

you feel the blood rush to your cheeks as they warm up and you cover your eyes with your hands, "put some clothes on!" you say, trying to hide the very evident blush on your face.

"what's the big deal? never seen a man shirtless before? grow up." his words come out as almost teasing yet harsh and you scoff.

"I have seen a man shirtless, I just don't want to see you shirtless." the blush on your face was practically gone with the way you were talking back to him.

"what are you trying to imply, huh?" taehyun spoke as he approached you, still shirtless, a shirt in hand.

before taehyun could get too close to you, your life is saved by beomgyu, "hey taehyun, get this motor mouth out of here, im trying to sleep." beomgyu's voice sounded as tired and sleepy as he looked, his hair disheveled from all the tossing and turning.

"you heard him, get." and with that, taehyun points a finger toward the door of your room, insinuating for you to basically get lost.

"I hate you..." you mumbled under your breath as you clenched the strap of your bag tightly and stormed off to your room as told.

"the feeling's mutual, sweetie." beomgyu laughs at taehyun's response, giving him a small "good one" before adjusting his position and getting ready to fall back asleep.

you're caught off guard by the pet name he had called you and you stop in your tracks, turning your head only to an angle where you can see he back of his head, "don't ever call me that again." you threaten. and with that, the door of your bedroom is slammed shut behind you.

⸝⸝

the following day is your day off, meaning you could relax from all the hard work you had put in throughout the week.

starting off your morning slowly, sleeping a few more hours than usual until you're finally completely awake that you get a text from beomgyu:

"your yelling yesterday made me sleep really good,thanks for not kicking me out :)"

with a scoff you reply:

"don't ever scare me like that ever again, give me a heads up next time!"

to your surprise, he's quick to respond:

"okok... wanna know something funny about taehyun? you won't believe it!"

you want to respond with a "no" but curiosity gets the best of you:

"what?" "he's a virgin!" "seriously?" "yeah! can you believe it?" "not really... " "oh c'mon! it's not that unbelievable!"

with that, you don't text him back. was taehyun really a virgin? maybe beomgyu was playing a prank on you. it kind of was a bit hard to believe considering the way he acts around you, all cold and hard headed. maybe you'd ask him about it.

you were enjoying your morning bowl of cereal before taehyun walks in, his hair a mess from not brushing it out as he scratches the back of his neck lazily in his plain white tee and loose fitting pajama pants.

"is that seriously what you're having for breakfast?" he asks with attitude, sitting down with his elbows resting on the kitchen counter.

you nod, chewing your food calmly "yeah, want some?"

despite your somewhat kind offer, his response is full of disgust. "no , there's absolutely no protein in that whatsoever."

you reply back with a scoff, "does it really matter that much? you're so difficult..." you take another bite and taehyun stares at you for a few seconds, his lip twitching as if he were going to smile but stopped himself.

"oh! taehyun, I have something to ask you." you say after swallowing the last bite of your breakfast and your eyes meet with his.

he nods his head nonchalantly, "what's up?"

you're a bit nervous to ask but you anyways, "are you a virgin?"

silence.

his eyes widen and his lips part, shock evident on his face. he's speechless. after a few more silent seconds, he speaks up, "who told you that?"

"beomgyu"

"what an asshole." he saids in anger " who does he think he is to tell everyone my secrets? "

you laugh nervously "secrets? so you mean it's true? you're a virgin? a loser?"

I'm a virgin, not a virgin loser, there's a difference, dumbass." taehyun spat out harshly and scoffed, "I can't believe you thought so low of me, but it's cute of you to think I was a virgin loser like you." he faked a smile, angering you a bit. of course he had to be the smart ass one. "you act as if you're not a virgin too, except, you are a virgin loser." he argued back like his life depended on it.

and you're just as shocked as he was, if not more. "who the hell told you that?" you questioned him angrily, wanting to know the truth.

taehyun lets out a villainous chuckled to your reaction, "no one. I just had a lucky guess. but now I know that my lucky guess was right, you are a virgin loser."

There's a faint pink hue of blush is spreads across your face from both anger and embarrassment "what's the difference?" your tone of voice was loud as you shouted but taehyun didn't even flinch.

"the difference is that I know about sex, you on the other hand have probably never seen a dick before, am I right?" he was right, very right infact.

"stop talking about it!" you spoke, frustrated at how you couldn't get back at taehyun.

"calm down, sweetie" he cooed, tilting his head and smirking at the stressed look on your face, his dimple evident. "wanna help each other out?"

⸝⸝

that's how you ended up here, straddling taehyun, his hands on each of your hips as he stared into your eyes coldly.

being in such and intimate position like this with him made you nervous as you spoke, "d-do you have a condom...?"

he shrugged, "what do you think? would a virgin have condoms?"

you look down, noticing the bulge that at had grown in his pants. heat rises to your face again and you shake your head.

"exactly." he speaks with such bluntness it scares you a bit. "now stop asking dumb questions and get your clothes off."

you obey not wanting to anger him more than he already seemed. he always seemed to be in a bad mood. slowly one by one, you took a piece of your clothes off. it wasn't until you were only in your undergarments that taehyun ripped them off your body, causing you to yelp. "could you be any slower? you're making me not want to take your virginity, this is my first time too, y'know. "

you felt so weird, naked in front of him. he looked at your body as if it were nothing. he definitely didn't act like the virgin he claimed to be.

without saying anything, his pulled his white tee off his body, letting you get a better view of his shirtless form.

you couldn't deny that taehyun was attractive, but seeing him like this made him even more attractive.

"quit staring, will you? don't make this weird." soon, he pulled down his pants enough for his cock to spring out, hitting his lower stom ach with a small slap. you back up a bit, his big and thick dick enough to scare you away. how on earth were you supposed to fit that monster inside of you? "why do you look so scared, hm? it's just a dick." he said nonchalantly. just a dick? was he serious?

You take a deep breath, he was right. it wasn't something to be afraid of, this was an experience almost every person on earth had, nothing new. "okay, how do I do this?"

taehyun doesn't talk, instead he guides you hips closer to his, lifting you with ease just enough for you to hover over his dick, your hands on his shoulders as you feel the ghostly touch of his thick tip lining against your tight hole.

"ready? I'll be waiting to decide if I want to be rough or gentle." he says and you nod.

you feel the burn of his thick dick stretching you out, drawing and high pitched moan out of you as your eyes screw themselves shut and your brow furrow.

taehyun lets out a soft yet low groan at the warm feeling of your gummy walls enveloping him oh so tightly. he felt like he could cum right on the spot.

you felt like you were in heaven, his dick felt so snug inside of you, his veins rubbing against your insides, and his tip brushing against your cervix lightly.

"you okay?" he spoke, his tone softer than usual and what you expected.

you mumble a small "yeah" and his lifts your hips up, half of his cock pulled out of his hole before slamming your hips down against his roughly, emmiting a loud yelp from you, "taehyun!"

taehyun only smacks your ass with a lot of force, leaving the stinging sensation to linger on your ass cheek before he does it a for a second time. "shut up, when did I ever say you could speak? greedy sluts stay quiet." his voice sounds the complete opposite of what it sounded like a few seconds ago, his demeanour changing completely.

again and again he continues to lift and slam your hips down on his cock, not giving you the right time to adjust. he gropes your ass roughly as he guides your body down up and down his shaft in a rhythmic pace.

you felt like you were going to explode from pleasure. how can anyone's first time be this good?

you were already fucked so dumb on his cock and he had barely even started. h e threw his head back, his bobbing adam's apple visible from the new angle.

suddenly, you felt the strong urge to release, your first ever orgasm. you gripped taehyun's shoulders tightly, your hole doing the same with his dick, clenching around him as if it were your last day on earth. "taehyun -! I'm going to cum! ah-!"

he groaned at the feeling, smacking your ass even harder than last time, causing you to launch forward, your head resting on your shoulder as he continued his relentless and merciless thrusts.

"I said to fucking shut up! I don't want to say it again, bitch." he spat out his words like fire and you felt his hand leave your ass and start griping your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and tweaking your sensitive nipples, leaving you to fuck yourself on his cock.

pathetic whimpers escaped past your lips, trying to keep quiet as you were told, yet it was so hard to do when his cock was hitting the right bundle of nerves over and over again.

with a smack on your ass and a loud moan of his name, you came undone on his cock, squirming at the feeling as you pant heavily.

taehyun pulls out, drawing a whine from you and he smacks your ass. he begins to stroke himself throwing his head back.

he looks at you with lustful eyes and grabs a handful of your hair, "suck." he commands, bringing your head down to the level of his cock. it's glistening with your juices and you take it into your mouth, barely able to fit it because of his girth.

you begin to suck and it doesn't take long for you to feel his warm and sticky cum shoot to the back of your throat. you look up at him with your mouth full of his cum, he's all sweaty, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he pants to catch his breath.

"swallow." he says inbetween pants and your mouth leaves his dick with a pop. when you smile you wipe your chin with the back of your hand, collecting the excess juices that had dripped down.

you sit up on your knees, both of you guys staring at each other from across the room.

taehyun is the one who decides to beeak the silence

"this may or may not mean we're dating."

𓍼 taglist! - @hyunj00 (please lmk if you want to be added to my taglist!!)

reblogs are appreciated!

[stayteezdreams]

Christmas Comfort

Plot: You expected to be spending this Christmas alone, left with your own thoughts and loneliness. But your boyfriend and best friends have a surprise for you.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Gn!Reader (est. relationship) + Reader & Stray Kids

A/n's: I'm gonna be real with you, this fic is entirely self serving and a comfort fic for myself. I lost both of my parents this year and they were the only close family I had left. So I will be alone for Christmas for the first time. So I wanted to write something to give myself a little comfort, and help anyone else who might be in a similar situation. I did not give any particulars for why the reader is alone, so hopefully more people can relate if they are alone this Christmas too.

Warnings: Mentions of loneliness, general sadness. Angsty but comforting.

Words: 2k

It felt odd, being alone for Christmas. Before, you would be celebrating with family or friends, enjoying the usual traditions, foods, and movies. You'd have fun decorating the house and the tree. But it was all different this year.

The traditions became memories. The foods unmade; the movies unwatched. Aside from a few decorations you set around your apartment, nothing in your home told you it was Christmas at all. No lights. No tree. No presents. Nothing.

You never really expected that it would end just like that.

If you had known last Christmas would have been the last one you had the way you were used to, you would have cherished it more.

It wasn’t that you hated Christmas now, or didn’t want to celebrate, you just didn’t see the point. Not when you were alone.

You enjoyed talking to your boyfriend Han about all the things he was doing with his family, the group chat between you and the boys was lively. You didn’t tell them how you were feeling, or that you were completely alone. They knew things were different this year, but you had hidden a lot of it from them.

You didn’t want to take away their joy of celebrating with their families after working so hard. They had all been gone for about a week now, and you admittedly did miss them. Their presence made it a lot easier for you to escape the threatening emotions lingering beneath. Now that they were gone, it was getting harder.  

It was three days before Christmas, and you could feel it slowly getting harder to feel nothing.

When the boys asked you what you were doing, you never really lied, but you didn’t tell them the whole truth. Yes, you did bake Christmas cookies, but they were for your neighbors you barely even knew. You did decorate, by putting a wreath on your door, and setting out a couple cute pillows.

You weren’t necessarily sad or disappointed in not having a real Christmas this year. But you had to admit, it felt…empty. Nothing would feel the same again and you knew that. But next year, it will be different. It won’t be as difficult to find the familiar Christmas joy. But this year, you would have to grow comfortable with your own company for now. And just hope that the lingering feeling deep in your gut won’t become too unbearable.

You could do this. You can do it. It will be okay. You may be lonely now, but you aren’t alone.

Looking at the group chat as an array of messages came through, you smiled and scoffed at the jokes and playful insults. Something clenched in your chest, and you took a deep breath.

You had such a good handle on your emotions. You were doing okay. You’re okay.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to settle your quivering heart.

Setting aside your phone, you went back to reading your book, forgetting about the group chat, and missing the slow awareness by the others that you were slowly talking less and less over the last few days.

You were also unaware of the conversations going on in the group chat you weren’t a part of. The discussions of a plan nearly finished.

Did you think they wouldn’t notice? How you would slowly drop from the conversations that centered around Christmas. That you would be excited for everyone but give vague replies when it came to yourself. Did you think they didn’t know you were alone? That you were hurting in ways you were too afraid to worry them with?

You were family. Even if you convinced yourself, you weren’t as important as that to them.

Han tried to bring you back to visit his family with him, but you had to work. But he also knew it was because it would be difficult for you to adjust right now, to being in the middle of someone else’s Christmas, someone else’s traditions, you wanted familiarity. But you no longer had that.

It was Han’s plan originally, to go home as early as he could, celebrate with his family, and return to you. When the others heard this, they wanted to join too. They all knew how hard this year was for you. And how hard you were trying to hide it. They wanted you to know you weren’t alone, they didn’t want you to wallow in your own pain.

“Hello?” You asked with a smile as you answered Han’s call.

“Babbyyyy.” He said loudly, making you chuckle.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“I just went on a walk remember. Oh, then I stopped at a little café, but I’, heading back home now. How about you? Did you go to the market with your mom?”

“Nope!”

“Oh, then what?”

“I was preparing a secret Christmas surprise.”

“Uh oh.”

“Uh-oh? What do you mean uh-oh?!” His sassy tone made you laugh. “I’ll have you know it’s the best surprise I’ve ever pulled off!”

“Oh really? What is this surprise then?”

“I’m not telling you now!”

You laughed, “Oh come on! I wanna know!”

“You really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“Let me ask you something first.”

“Okay?”

“Are you okay?”

Your heart jumped a bit, and you let out a soft laugh, though it was forced. “What?”

“You haven’t been responding to the group chat, and your texts with me are always vague. I wanted to know if you were lying about being okay.”

Your heart was pounding a bit now, “Why are you suddenly asking that?”

“Because I want you to know I noticed. That I didn’t miss it. That none of us did.”

You stopped in your tracks for a moment, how could you expect Han to not notice you weren’t okay? He noticed everything about you, even when he wasn’t there. It was one of the reasons you loved him so much. He saw you, in ways no one else did.

The boys too. They were always there when you needed them, even when you didn’t ask. They always noticed when you went quiet for a little too long. They noticed when you seemed withdrawn or evasive. And then they wouldn’t leave you alone until you told them everything.  

Halfway through your walk today, you spent a little too long thinking about the things you no longer had. You cried. For the first time in a while. You had always stopped the tears before they fell, but today you couldn’t.

It was Christmas and you were so sad.

But Han made you smile, and you loved him for that. And now he was telling you he knew, somehow, that you weren’t okay anymore. That you failed at keeping it together.

“You knew this Christmas was going to be a hard one for me.” You said softly.

He asked if you wanted him to stay, to not go home, but you refused. You would not take that from him, no matter what was going on with you. So, he left, reluctantly, but he left.

“Of course I knew.”

You felt tears brimming in your eyes again as you reached your door. “I was just hoping I was wrong.” You finished softly.

“Hey baby?” Han’s voice was suddenly quiet.

“Hmm?” You unlocked your door, waiting for his response.

“Merry Christmas.”

As the door swung open, you came face to face with not only Han, phone still to his ear, but all of the boys, sitting around your living room. Their faces held smiles, as they anxiously waited for your reaction to them being here.

Your house was covered in Christmas lights and decorations. And in the previously empty corner, was a large Christmas tree. On the wall, a line of stockings filled with what you assumed was candy.

Littering the tables and floor were various loose decorations, tinsel and boxes. You assumed while you had gone out, Han, having his own key, snuck all of them in and they decorated your house as much as they could before you returned.

“Wh- how-“you hesitated as you looked around at them in surprise.

“Surprise!” They all cheered out, Changbin tossing tinsel in the air as Lee Know twirled around some ribbon.

Your eyes locked with Han’s as he slowly put down the phone with a grin. Unable to stop the sudden emotions that came over you, tears became obvious as you stared at them all, still in shock, but overcome with emotions you had been repressing.

Their faces changed from bright smiles to looks of concern mixed with relief. This is what they wanted, but they hated it at the same time. You needed to let everything out that you had been holding in. And now it was happening.

Han rushed forward and pulled you into a hug, the others stood around, allowing him the moment as you cried into his shoulder.

He gently swayed you as he hushed you and gently rubbed his hands down your back. “I know baby. But I’m here now, okay?”

Slowly, the others surrounded you, hugging you and patting your head, giving you comforting words and reassurance.

After a few moments you stepped away from Han and looked around at them before letting out a strangled laugh, knowing you must look terrible now. “Why did you all come here?”

“Because you’re our family Y/n.” Chris said as if it was obvious. “And we never leave our family alone.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t tell you we were going to come back.” Felix added in, “Originally it was just Han’s idea, then we all decided we wanted to surprise you too.”

“We hated that you were suffering alone without telling us.” Hyunjin broke in, a frown on his face.

You looked at Han, “You were always planning on coming back early?”

He nodded, “You told me I had to go see my family, I did.”

“But it’s Christmas.”

“Exactly!” Lee Know said with a somewhat harsh, but at the same time caring, tone, “And you were alone. That’s unacceptable.”

“We got to spend time with our families.” Chris started, “And now we are doing it again, here, with you.”

You sniffled again as another wave of emotions threatened to spill out. You wanted to protest some more, but you knew there was no point. They were here now, and even if part of you wished they hadn’t left their families for you, you were relieved, and so grateful that they cared enough for you to come back.

“Thank you.” You mumbled out as you repressed the urge to cry again.

Seungmin ruffled your hair, “Don’t cry anymore Y/n, you’re ugly when you cry!”

Turning, you smacked him, making him laugh, which in return made you smile. Changbin grabbed at him while jokingly cursing at him for what he said.

Han grabbed you and pulled you back into his chest as he playfully pointed threateningly at Seungmin before he wrapped his arms protectively around you.

After everyone settled down, and you had finished crying, for the most part. You sat down on the couches as the boys decided to surprise you with presents.

“What are all these?”

“We got you presents, duh!” Seungmin said as he waved one in front of your face.

“Oh, wait!” You said as you rose before sprinting off to another room. When you came back, you had a large box in your hand full of wrapped presents. “I planned to give these to you when you came back.”

There was a chorus of ‘awes’ and gasps as you set down the box of their presents.

“Gift exchange!” Han said happily as he pulled you into his lap.

As everyone playfully argued about who should open something first, you looked around at them with a grateful smile.

Yes, the heartache of change still sat heavy in your chest. But one thing that would never change was this. Your found family. The ones who knew you inside and out.

Han, who loved every part of you and accepted you. Who always made you smile and feel wanted.

And your friends, your brothers, who took care of you in ways you never had before.

Yes, things were different now, and the pain of that would still linger for a long time. But you had them. You weren’t alone. Not anymore, and never again.

xx End xx

And that's it for the 12 Days of Christmas 2024!

I know if sort of ended on an angsty note, but I hope you all enjoyed the fics!

((Taglist Form))

12 Days of Christmas Taglist: @multi-fandommaniac, @mbruben-stein

General Taglist:  @charmsprout, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669,

@tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop,

@shymexican, @stillwjk-channie-lixie, @alexxavicry

Stray Kids Taglist: @laylasbunbunny, @skz1-4-3, @prettymiye0n, @thunderous-wolf, @thedistractedwriter,

@briqnne, @dinossaurz, @carattinymoa, @stay3096,

@vnessalau, @3rachasninja, @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

Han: @dear-dreamie

[hawkinsbnbg]

all i want for christmas is you

prompt: christmas | word count: 1000 | rated: T | tags: ex-hookups to lovers, fast burn, getting together, future fic. | @steddieholidaydrabbles | ao3

steddie bingo prompts: cuddle, sing, guitar | @steddiebingo

It was finally Christmas and Eddie was gonna meet Wayne's mysterious partner, who had been a famous topic in their conversations lately.

Not that Wayne had mentioned seeing someone, yet. But he knew his uncle well, or he'd like to think so, and Wayne wasn't the type to just talk about some random people during their weekly phone calls.

And since he'd been hearing about Stevie this and Stevie that for months, he'd braced himself for the family dinner™ when he visited Wayne this year.

That was why he didn't expect to see Steve Harrington when opening the door.

It'd been what? Ten years and the other man still looked as beautiful as ever. Even without his signature polo and khakis, Steve still managed to look unfairly cute in his winter outfit, big doe eyes and rosy cheeks, sweet and fluffy like a cute muffin.

Eddie wanted to eat him.

Before he could say anything, however, Wayne appeared from behind and pushed him out of the doorway.

"Come in, son. You're gonna freeze your ass off if you stay out there any longer."

Steve ducked his head to hide that endearing shy smile of his and stepped inside the house as prompted, sighing in appreciation when the warmth embraced him.

Standing awkwardly next to Wayne, Eddie held the cookies Tupperware Steve had brought over, watching him take off his maroon knit scarf, mittens, and earmuffs then change his shoes and hang his jacket.

As Wayne pulled him into a fatherly hug that Eddie had been given hours ago, a lightbulb moment finally happened to Eddie.

"Holy shit, you're the Stevie! What're you doing here?" Eddie didn't mean to sound so blunt, wincing internally at the hurt flashing in those hazel eyes.

Thankfully, before he could ruin everything with his loud mouth, Wayne interrupted gently.

"I invited him here to have dinner with us. You got a problem with that, son?"

"Nope," Eddie wisely shook his head, then gave Steve a (hopefully) charming smile. "Don't mind me, sweetheart. I was just worried that I haven't bought a gift for you since I didn't– You know what? I’m gonna go set up the table. You two continue catching up, okay?”

His retreating tactic only worked for about two minutes before Steve joined him in the kitchen. Without Wayne as their buffer, he didn't know what to say and neither did Steve by the look of it. But the silence was stifling and his self-control had been shot to zero anyway.

“So, you're friends with Wayne, huh?”

“You could say that,” Steve glanced at him briefly before looking away again. “He talks about you a lot, you know. Said he’s really proud of you. For living your dream and making a life out of it.”

Unable to help it, Eddie swayed closer, breathing in the familiar floral and fruity notes from Steve's cologne and body wash, smiling when he caught the sweet scent of baked cookies.

“For the record, he also talks about you a lot, Stevie.”

He felt a little drunk when Steve's ears and cheeks colored in a lovely shade of pink that matched his sweater vest, and realized how much he’d missed this. The easy flirting. The natural way they moved around each other. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, or maybe it was the domestic air of the occasion, but he could see them like this one day—happy, in love, together.

Eddie shook his head. All those years, and here he was, still just as hopeless.

Dinner was a delightful affair. Wayne made it his duty to regale them both with their embarrassing tales, more of Eddie's than Steve's. Turned out, Wayne had helped him get acquainted with the neighborhood when he first came to live here. Once they found out about their mutual love for sports and gardening, they’d become fast friends and the rest was history.

(“Wait. You walked here?? In this weather???”

“There are only a few flurries and I don't even live that far away from here. I’ll be fine.”

“Uh-huh, says the man who has pneumonia and still took a stroll when it's brass monkeys outside.”

“Like you're one to talk. Remember when you sprained his wrist and ankle because you refused to use the front door like normal people?”

“Listen–”

“Boys.”

“Sorry, Uncle Wayne.”)

At some point, Steve revealed that he was teaching at Hawkins Middle, and proceeded to gush about a bunch of kids Eddie had no idea about but still grew fond of anyway if only because they were the reason for the smiles on Steve's face.

After doing the dishes, they joined Wayne in the living room, drinking hot cocoas by the fireplace and bickering over their tastes in movies and music. Eddie got to show off his guitar skills, playing every request from Steve and Wayne.

They all sang along to Queens and ABBA, laughing when he missed some chords. Eventually, Wayne called it a night and retired upstairs, leaving him and Steve on the couch, cuddling and sharing body heat beneath the soft quilt.

Amidst their mindless bantering, he raised a hand to cradle Steve’s face, and asked softly. “May I?”

Like a dream, Steve leaned into his touch with a soft smile.

“Yes, please.”

Oh, sweet Santa. This man was gonna be the death of him.

Once they eventually parted, Eddie suggested that they should kiss under a mistletoe next time, and Steve quickly pointed out they’d just done it considering their quilt was patterned with mistletoes—something they’d failed to notice until they were done kissing. Somehow, that made them break into a fit of giggles, having to cover each other’s mouths to muffle their noises like a couple of giddy children.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Steve asked after a while.

“You,” Eddie pecked his lips tenderly. “It's always been you, baby.”

“You have me,” Steve smiled into the kiss.

And Eddie knew he was gonna do anything to make them work this time.

[httpsdana]

Can you do promo 14 and 21 with kenan on how he never thought about actually dating until he met her and how she changed his opinion on dating

When It’s You~Kenan Yildiz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

14-“I never planned to fall in love, but here we are.”

21-“I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say.”

Kenan Yildiz had always been a bit of a skeptic when it came to love. His focus had always been on his career, his goals, and his dreams.

Relationships, with all their messy emotions and potential distractions, didn’t fit into the plan. He was the type to scoff when his teammates talked about love, rolling his eyes at their lovesick grins and romantic anecdotes.

But then he met her.

It wasn’t a thunderbolt moment or an immediate spark of realization. It was more like the quiet breaking of dawn—slow, steady, and impossible to ignore.

He noticed the way she laughed, genuine and hearty, as if she weren’t afraid to fill the room with joy. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions. How she always managed to bring out the best in him, even on his worst days.

Kenan found himself seeking out her company, making excuses to talk to her, and eventually, he couldn’t ignore the growing warmth in his chest every time she was around.

One evening, the two were sat in his living room , the movie playing on the TV flickered in the background, its plot long forgotten. Kenan sat beside her on the couch, unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor as if lost in thought.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, nudging his leg lightly with her foot.

He looked at her, startled, as if he hadn’t realized she was paying attention. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just thinking,” he said simply.

She tilted her head, studying him. “Thinking about what?”

Kenan hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly against his knee. “You probably don’t remember, but the first time I ever talked to you, I told you I hated pineapple on pizza.”

She laughed, the memory instantly coming back. “Of course, I remember. You ranted about it for ten minutes. I thought, ‘Wow, this guy really has strong opinions about fruit.’”

His lips quirked up into a small grin. “It wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“Well, I thought it was cute,” she said with a shrug.

He looked at her, his expression softening. “I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say. I didn’t think anyone listened that much.”

“Of course, I listen,” she replied, reaching over to rest her hand on his. “Everything you say matters to me.”

Kenan turned his hand over, threading his fingers through hers. He stared at their intertwined hands for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against her skin.

“you know...I never planned to fall in love,” he admitted, his voice low. “But here we are.”

The sincerity in his tone made her chest tighten. “Kenan…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “I thought love was something other people did. Something that would just get in the way of my plans. I didn’t think it was for me.” He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “But then you came along, and now I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hand. “Well, I’m glad I changed your mind.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You didn’t just change my mind. You changed everything.”

And in that moment, with his hand in hers and his words still lingering in the air, she knew that she had done the same for him.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[mshalfemptygirl]

Under the Tree (S.R)

Plot: Y/N decorates the apartment for Christmas with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid, and things get pretty cute between the two of them. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Contents: A sweet Christmas fic where they’re being cute and flirting with each other. Maybe it releases a lot of oxytocin. A/N: I hope you all like it! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day anyway and enjoy this little piece of joy. Love you all, and thanks for reading my fics! Happy Holidays!

The sweet scent of hot chocolate filled the apartment as I curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket. Across the room, Spencer was intently focused on his self-proclaimed mission to “perfectly top” our Christmas tree. I watched him as he studied the golden star in his hands, his brows knit together in concentration as if he were tackling one of his impossibly complex equations. “If you spend five more minutes deciding the exact angle of that star, the tree’s gonna give up and decorate itself,” I teased, trying to hide my amusement behind a sip of hot chocolate.

He glanced at me over the rim of his glasses, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Did you know that the probability of a Christmas tree being perfectly symmetrical is practically zero? The branches are almost always uneven, even if they’re artificial.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Is that your fancy way of blaming the tree for how long this is taking?”

He turned back to the tree, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought back a smile. “I’m not taking that long,” he said, climbing carefully onto a slightly wobbly chair. “I just want it to be… perfect.”

“It’s already perfect, Spencer,” I said softly, my words more for me than for him.

But he heard me. Spencer paused mid-movement and glanced over his shoulder. His gaze was steady, the warmth in his brown eyes making my chest tighten in the best way. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a small smile, meeting his gaze. “And I’m not talking about the tree.”

His ears turned a deeper shade of red, and I couldn’t help but laugh quietly. He always got adorably flustered when I caught him off guard like that. But this time, instead of deflecting or looking away, he stepped down from the chair, the star forgotten in his hand, and walked toward me with deliberate calmness.

“You know,” he began, leaning one hand on the back of the couch as he hovered just a little too close, “flirting is actually considered a sign of intelligence.”

“Oh, really?” I asked, my voice softening despite the playful edge in his tone. “So, what does that say about you, Dr. Reid?”

His lips curved into a smirk, the kind that made my heart race and my knees feel just a little weaker. “It says I have exceptional intelligence... and impeccable taste.”

Heat rose to my face, but I managed to keep my composure, raising an eyebrow at him. “Humble as always.”

He chuckled, settling onto the couch beside me and tugging the blanket over both of us. His arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me closer, and I leaned into his warmth without hesitation.

“You want to know something else interesting?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly, the rasp in it sending a pleasant shiver through me.

“Let me guess,” I said, tilting my head to look at him. “You’re about to hit me with another weirdly sexy statistic?”

Spencer laughed, the sound low and warm, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I could,” he admitted, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “but I was thinking of something a little more practical.”

“Like what?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Like the fact that you’ve got hot chocolate on the corner of your mouth.”

Before I could react, he leaned in and wiped the spot with his thumb, his touch lingering just a moment too long. My breath hitched, and I swore his smirk grew as he noticed my reaction.

“All fixed,” he said softly, his voice casual, but his eyes held that undeniable spark that left me completely disarmed.

“Thanks… I guess,” I managed, my voice quieter than I intended.

“No need to thank me,” he replied, leaning in to press a quick, feather-light kiss to my cheek. His lips were gone before I could fully process the touch, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But if you wanted to repay me,” he added, his voice lower, more daring, “I have a few ideas.”

I laughed, trying to steady my racing heart. “Ideas, huh? Like what?”

He leaned back slightly, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts playful and enticing. “Well,” he began, his tone light but purposeful, “we could finish decorating the gingerbread cookies. You know, keep things wholesome. Or…” His voice dipped, his gaze locking on mine, “we could forget about the cookies entirely and stay right here. See where this... takes us.”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider his words as my pulse hammered in my ears. “And what exactly do you think ‘this’ is going to lead to, Spence?”

He didn’t hesitate, shifting closer until his knee brushed mine, his presence impossibly magnetic. “That’s the best part,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning. “I don’t know yet. But I’m pretty confident I’ll like wherever it goes.”

[storiesfromafan]

Heart Felt Gifts - Benny x Reader

A/N: so its Christmas Eve for me right now. I have gifts to wrap but I've chosen to write instead 😅

I thought a cute Christmas fic was in order. And in true fashion, this little idea came to me while in the shower lol.

Now I have to wrap presents, before finishing my Mattheo Christmas fic haha.

Warning: fluff, cute nonsense 😅

Words: 1428

You weren’t one for being woken up, but having a strong set of arms wrapping around you, and being pulled against a firm body. Your back to their chest, and you knew exactly who the body was; Benny Cross. The most delicious mix of a moan and a groan came from Benny as he buried his face against the back of your neck. Seems he had just woken up too.

You stretched lightly, placing a hand over one of his arms that held you securely. You might not like being woken up but every time Benny stays over, and wakes up to hold you close, you could definitely wake up like this without an issue. Benny squeezed you once more loosening his hold on you, as he moved his face back.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart" his morning voice pleasantly greeted your ears.

You smiled, turning in his arms so you could face the gorgeous Vandal. “Merry Christmas”. And you pecked his full lips.

Of course Benny moved in, chasing your lips for another kiss – a longer kiss. You playfully fled his advances with a giggle, but eventually gave into him. Tender and lazily Benny kissed your lips, the both of you enjoying this sweet moment. You both laid there, wrapped around the other for some time. Just talking, sharing stories and laughing.

Finally you did get up, putting on your robe and slippers, you told Benny you’d put some coffee on. He made a noise of acknowledgement, and you then slipped out from the room. Reaching the kitchen you moved around getting the coffee brewing, and putting the pot under the machine. When it was ready it began to drip into the pot. You took that time to get two coffee cups, along with milk and sugar.

Benny entered the kitchen just as you’d finished make your cups up. He kissed your cheek before taking the offered cup. You took a cautious sip, savouring the liquid and hoping it would help get you through the day. Benny was doing the same. You then took a hold of his hand, leading him back into the lounge room. Sitting on the couch together, you put down your coffee and sat back, getting comfy up against Benny’s side as he put an arm around you.

You put on the TV, finding something Christmassy to watch, though it was more background noise. As Benny seemed to just enjoy having you close. His hand would graze up and down your arm, the pads of his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. He’d kiss your cheek or neck, just for the fun of it. Another perfect moment.

“This is the perfect morning" you sighed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I got ya a little something".

With that you slipped out of Benny's strong arms and moved to your small tree nearby. Picking up a small red box with green tartan ribbon. Joining Benny back on the couch, you sat with your legs under you and offered him the gift. Looking at the gift, to you and then back to the box, he was speechless. You moved the box a little closer to him, saying it’s his.

Cautiously Benny took the offered gift in his hand. He felt the weight and it wasn’t that heavy. Bringing it to his lap, Benny continued to look at your gift. All the while you watched him. And after a few minutes you began to think a gift wasn’t a good idea, as he didn’t seem excited about it.

“I-it’s alright if ya don’t want to open it now, maybe later" you stated moving your legs out from under you and taking a sip of your cooling coffee.

Benny looked to you, hearing how your voice had changed. As well as seeing how deflated you were. Sitting up quickly, he grasped your gift in both hands. “I’m gonna open it now, baby”.

He pulled one of the ends of the bow, it came undone without a fuss. Removing the ribbon and lid, Benny was greeted to white tissue paper. Moving it out of the way what greeted him surprised Benny. There in the delicate white paper was a new pair of leather riding gloves. Reaching out, Benny ran his finger tips over the cool material. A small smile working its way onto his face. A thoughtful gift, from his thought girl.

You watched with baited breath when he had said he would open it. You were nervous, not knowing if he would like the gloves. As you’d seen his well-worn ones every time you rode with him, and thought it might be time for a new pair. You released the breath you’d been holding when you saw that smile on his face.

He likes it, thank God!

Turning to you, Benny leant in for a big kiss. “Thanks sweetheart. I love ‘em".

You giggled and smiled, heart light and absolutely over the moon. “I am so glad! I was nervous you wouldn’t like them...”

Pulling you in for a hug and another kiss. Benny whispered how much he loved them. And how sweet, caring and thoughtful you were. I don’t know how I ended up with you he had commented, just adding to your joy. Glad to hear him being so vocal. But then, while tucked in his arms, Benny seemed to freeze. Like he was suddenly unsure about something. Then it hit you, maybe Benny hadn’t gotten you anything. And that was fine, you didn’t expect a gift after a month of being together. When it came to your gift, it was just a spur of the moment thing when you saw them.

“It’s alright if you didn’t get me anything” you said suddenly. “I didn’t expect anything, really. Just happy to be with ya right now". And you gave him a big, bright smile to show him you weren’t upset.

Benny shook his head. “Nuh...I got ya somethin’...”

He then put the box down on the floor and headed over to his jacket, which was hanging by the door. From his pocket Benny seemed to retrieve something. You noted it couldn’t have been a big gift, not that you were expecting a large gift. Whatever he gives you, you would appreciate it. As it was from him. That he had thought of you when he picked it out.

Falling back down next to you, Benny hesitated before holding out a tiny box. It was green and had no bow, which meant he hadn’t shopped anywhere fancy. Taking the tiny box in your hand, you looked to Benny once more, who seemed to be shy and embarrassed. But why? What was in this box that had him acting like this. Surely it couldn’t be a curtain kind of ring, right?

With that thought in mind, nervously you opened the box with a shaky hand. Upon seeing the contents you sighed, relieved to not see an engagement ring. But what lay in there confused you. Between your finger and thumb, you picked up the contents and held it up while looking to Benny. He had gifted you a men’s ring, like one of the ones he wore.

“Ah, I know it’s the thought that counts...but” – you tried it on your pointer finger, which was your thicker finger, and it was still too big – “this ring is too big, and is a man’s ring...”

Benny chuckled. “I know, baby" he removed the ring from your finger. “It’s mine". He flashed the finger it had previously sat on.

Now you were even more confused. But then Benny moved his hand to the box you still held, pulling out a silver chain that you hadn’t seen. He then proceeded to undo the clasp, slipping the ring on the chain and then leant around you to clasp it behind your neck. It fell down under your collar bone, resting there like it had always been there.

“I’d gotten the chain so ya could wear my ring around your neck" he stated, looking at the ring before back to your eyes. “My girl should have somethin' of mine to wear, right?”

When Benny’s words washed over you, your brain registering what he’d said, the brightest smile crossed your face. Eyes lighting up with joy. You launched yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck while you crawled into his lap. You showered him with kisses, making Benny laugh. Being – officially – Benny’s girl was the best Christmas present you could get. And you had his ring to prove it to anyone who wouldn't believe you.

[theghostavocadoe]

Presents prompt for the remnants, and Cloud? If you wanna include anyone else to make the prompt easier, that's fine! Just like the thought of them getting along.

Cloud explained the concept of the holidays to the Remnants on the night that the tree was put up in Edge's town square. Loz was infatuated by the lights, Yazoo was inclined to steal one of the ornaments, and Kadaj was overall assaulted by the offending display.

"It's just a time where family gets together, hangs up decorations, and gives each other gifts."

It was a simple enough explanation for the three of them. They all nodded in exact unison, which was both cute and a bit creepy, so Cloud left it at that.

What he didn't expect was for the three of them to find him a week later with gifts in hand.

Kadaj was first to find him with his hands hidden behind his back. He shoved a small yet heavy package into Cloud's arms before uttering a grumpy "you're welcome" and briskly walking away.

When Kadaj was gone, Cloud opened the small package to find an elaborate multi-tool. Kadaj must have heard him talking about getting a new one with Tifa, since it had been on his mind for a while. He smiled, feeling its weight in his hands before slipping it into his pocket.

Cloud found himself making excuses to use it. It made him feel like a cool on-the-go mechanic. And he didn't miss how Kadaj would smile whenever Cloud used it around him, even if he quickly hid it underneath his bangs.

Loz found him a few days after with a smile bright enough to blind someone. He handed Cloud a flower. When he took the flower, he realized very quickly it wasn't a real flower; it was a yellow lily, just like the ones in aerith's church, made of stained glass.

They ended up hanging it in the window in front of the kitchen. When the light was cast through it, the glass made colorful patterns across the entire room. Everyone who saw it complimented how pretty it was, to which Loz would loudly boast that it was his holiday gift to Cloud.

Yazoo found Cloud last. With a simple yet knowing smile, he handed an entire briefcase to Cloud and told him to open it. Confused, Cloud set it down and opened it up to find a fully functioning record player.

Record players were a rare commodity now that everyone had switched to CDs. Cloud still had some vinyls from his childhood, but nothing to play them on. The record player was immediately set up in the main room of Seventh Heaven. Patrons of the bar constantly commented on the excellent taste in music.

Cloud mulled for days over what he could get as gifts in return for the three of them. They were oddities, and they often switched interests and hobbies within weeks. The only thing that remained permanent about them was their new home.

That's when Cloud had the best idea.

The morning of the holidays, the brothers found three near-identical papers. Papers that would give them the official last name of Strife-Lockhart.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-four of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly, burying his face in Bernard’s shoulder; feeling syrup-sticky and slow and warm and sweet. “Robin told me.” 

“Good boy,” Bernard says, pressing a kiss against his temple and petting the back of his head; stroking a hand across the small of his back too. “Mn. Fuck, you really are tight. Still this excited to get played with, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kon pants against the other’s shoulder, rolling his hips a little faster, and everything in the whole world just feels liquid. “Play with me, Rob said you could, said I could be good for you, I’ll be so good for you, pleasepleaseplease–” 

“C’mon, yeah, just like that,” Bernard sighs breathlessly, tightening his grip on him a little more; rolling his hips up into his a little harder. “So cute. You can hold onto me with your hands too, boy, you don’t have to do it with just your ass. Or do you wanna hold my hand again, it’s alright if you–” 

“Mn” Kon chokes, rolling his hips a bit too hard, and he knows he needs to keep the super-speed out of bed with baseline humans as much as possible, but his hands just snap to Bernard, one grabbing the hand of the arm the guy has wrapped around his waist where it’s curling around his hip and the other grabbing onto his back and just–clinging, maybe, kinda, sorta. 

Definitely. 

“Fucking cute,” Bernard mutters, then presses another kiss into his hair. “Good boy, best boy, how’s it feel? You like it? Wanna come like this?” 

“I–your shirt,” Kon manages stupidly even as he clings tighter to the other and nuzzles tightly into his neck, because, like–he’s probably already gotten pre on it by now being pressed in this tight against the guy, but if he actually comes right now, he doesn't think he'll be able to concentrate enough to keep it off his– 

“S’okay if you make a little bit of a mess,” Bernard hums, nuzzling him in return; curling his fingers against his scalp and shifting the hand he has underneath his to grip his, and Kon muffles a moan against his shoulder, and there’s just no space left between them and Bernard just keeps talking and–“S’what I’m here for, right? I’m taking care of you ‘til Tim gets back. You don’t need to worry about anything else. Just lemme make you feel good.” 

“I–I–” Kon chokes, clinging to him even tighter, and Bernard nuzzles in behind his ear and bumps a couple of his earrings with his nose in the process and rolls his hips up into his without pulling back out of him at all and gives his hand the softest little squeeze, and Kon’s stamina is apparently just fucking gone because he immediately comes all over both of their stomachs with a gasping keen of a sound and–and Bernard keeps nuzzling him, keeps his arms around him, keeps his hands on him and his hips pressed up into his, and Kon literally did not even get his dick touched properly again, just kind of not-even-deliberately rubbed up between them at best, and he–and he–why’s he so–he managed to keep his TTK from letting his come get all over Bernard’s shirt, barely, but he really doesn’t even know how he did, because everything’s just so–“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I–please don’t–please–” 

“Not gonna take your toy away, boy, you can play long as you want,” Bernard murmurs, then gives his hips a pointed roll up. Kon makes an absolutely pathetic embarrassment of a sound this time, body shaking and face buried in tight against the other’s shoulder and everything just–just liquid, even as he makes the reflexive little gesture that flicks the mess of his come out from between them before it makes an actual mess, though he can’t make it all the way to the trash can with it this time and has to just–just settle for the sheets, this time. 

He’s just–he’s just all oozy, syrupy, melty liquid, all molten in his bones and bleeding through his veins and muscles and guts. The only thing he can feel that doesn’t feel like liquid right now is Bernard’s rock-hard cock hilted up so deep inside him; hilted up so perfect inside him. Literally nothing else even feels worth feeling, right now.

“Bernard,” he whines, and can’t even be embarrassed anymore. “Bernard, Bernard, s’so good, feel like I’m gonna–feel all–Bernard.” 

“You’re so cute with your toys,” Bernard coos just a little bit breathlessly, scritching lightly behind his ear. “Cutest boy, and so eager, and so pretty in pink.” 

Kon just moans uselessly into his shoulder again, too liquid and boneless in the other’s lap to keep clinging to him with anything but his TTK; feeling like something Bernard could fold up and put at the bottom of the bed for whenever he wanted it, like just some useful little gift Tim got him, like something worth the using. Like he could just stay right here as long as Bernard wanted him here, and just be useful right here as long as Bernard wanted him here. Something weighted, something warm, something Bernard can just come in as many times as he feels like, something– 

Fuck, he thinks dizzily, and can’t really think anything more coherent than that. Bernard squeezes his hand and it feels like the only thing that’s keeping him from floating right up to the ceiling, except for maybe the other’s cock, and Bernard squeezes his arm around his waist too and Kon still can’t even be embarrassed, even with the sticky mess of his come only making it to the sheets and his barely-softened cock pinned between them all oversensitive and aching and the way he can’t seem to stop shuddering. He–he’s–he’s really supposed to be better at this, he can last all night when he wants to, but he just–he just can’t–

He can’t help it, he thinks, and then manages to find a little bit of embarrassment again after all. But–it’s just–

It’s Tim, and Tim Domming for him, and Domming him maybe better than anybody else ever has just because–just because Tim’s so obviously into it too, it’s not like–like, it’s not a trade-off of different kinks he’s gonna have to pay back later or something that Tim’s doing just to humor him, or only feels like once in a blue moon, or just wants to use as an excuse to just be an asshole to him, or . . . 

No. It’s something Tim really likes. Like–clearly. Obviously. Very muchly. 

It’s something Tim really likes, and he wants to do it for him. Wants to do it–do it with him. 

Wants to do it with him enough to melt him down into useless syrup and let him be good for his boyfriend, even.