#somehow spent a few hours drawing this after such a busy Christmas

[chasingthewesternsun]

I wanted to start with a reference of Lars and then make adjustments/changes to fit the Thrawn in my head. He’s my baby :3

[eddiernunson]

Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves... difficult.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie's general appearance, unprotected piv, against the wall fucking, deep throating, daddy kink

Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when | wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie's energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).

Thanks for the hype on the preview! Hopefully this lives up to the hype

Thanks so much to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie ❤️

As the night swallows you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car as she drives you to the ER. While roughhousing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.

As the lights of the night pass you by, you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.

She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask you to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.

The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.

The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information, gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.

Soon, you find yourself sitting in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain after each bout. Not that there are many options to begin with.

Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called as you look at memes and watch videos with one headphone in.

Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.

For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.

Your eyes flick to someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally into the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.

Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.

His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.

As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Something about him is just so enticing, drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.

Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage station, wandering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.

The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and grey tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.

Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.

You spend the next few minutes convincing yourself that it was all in your head, and that for all he knew you were zoned out and happened to be zoned out on him. It feels like a reach, especially with his torso as revealed as it was.

Time itself blurs as you zone out on your phone, attempting to distract yourself from your thumping heart and the arousal that pools into your cotton underwear. A shift in movement catches your eye, blurred and black in your periphery.

Your eyes by reflex glance up, catching a glimpse of him slouching in his chair, a foot resting on the other as knee he uses wired headphones and stares at whatever’s on his phone. Somehow, his confidence at making himself at home is still attractive, drool gathering in your mouth.

You look down at your phone before he catches you again, this visit at the ER sending a thrill through you that you didn’t expect in the least.

More and more people get called to the back, and you're still stuck waiting. Everyone who you’ve told is surprised to say the least that it’s been hours and you’re still just in the waiting room. You don’t mind though, sneaking glances at the beautiful stranger has become your favourite pastime.

Four hours in, if someone asked your highlight it would be when he head-banged to whatever assumingly heavy metal band he listens to. By the time the nurse calls your name to the back, it takes a strong second place.

About twenty minutes pass before it’s your turn for a bed, and you are let your eyes wander around, now bored of your phone. As they do, they catch sight of the man you’ve kept an eye on yawning in a big stretch. What this yawn has you so captivated by is the sliver of skin his stretch reveals, and the curly brown treasure trail that peeks from just above the hem of his low sitting jeans.

Your mouth floods with saliva. With your mouth agape and eyes subtly widened, you can’t help but gawk at him. Something about the way you suddenly picture yourself pulling him into the bathroom to nuzzle into his hair takes you aback just a little bit.

Time slows down for you, stretching into hours, but it's only seconds. Finally, as his body relaxes from the stretch you turn your eyes back to his face, hoping he didn’t see your fleeting glance. Startlingly, his eyes are already on yours. This time you can’t find it in you to look away in embarrassment. As if reading your mind, he smirks right at you, and you swear his brown eyes darken a shade.

This time for sure, he caught you. He doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, arms crossing over his chest as he keeps his smug expression right on you.

It’s hard to resist the smile as you go back to your phone, promising to yourself that you will remember his face for as long as you can.

-

Eddie thanks Gareth for dropping him off at the hospital, gritting his teeth at the slight pain stretching his torso gives him.

As he wanders into the hospital, his eyes take in the crowded waiting room and he groans, wishing the wound wasn’t so fucking deep.

He got stabbed. He got fucking stabbed. Wayne is going to kill him when he finds out he got into a fight, especially one where knives were in the crossfire. He couldn’t even say how the situation got so heated so quickly, just another fight in a parking lot after a deal goes sour.

The guy pulled a fucking knife on him, pushed it into his torso and ran off with the goods before Eddie could even realize he had been harmed.

All for fucking weed. Wasn’t even cocaine!

It takes a stupid amount of time for him to finally get to the nurse. She tells him to sit down for his vitals, and he refuses, wanting to show the wound and get it out of the way.

He lifts his shirt at her request, showing the darkened gauze and hissing as she takes a closer look at the wound when it’s removed. Eddie realizes the irony of exposing his chest in the triage, looking up to face the windows that allow other patients to see through.

He does a quick scan of the room, no one having seemed to notice how he’s shirtless. No one, but you. He saw you when he walked in, you were on your phone with one earbud in as you tapped your feet to whatever beat you were listening to. He thought you were cute, his mouth twitching in a smile as he notices you’re cradling one arm across your chest.

It couldn’t have been confused with zoning out, your mouth in a small O shape you openly stare at him. The look you have on your face is enough to turn Eddie on a little, having the urge to caress your face as you look up at him with those same wide eyes. His mouth twitches as he thinks of it, the thought enough to distract him from the shooting pain in his chest.

Your eyes dart away as soon as it registers that he’s looking back at you. His smile widens even more as you sink in your seat, your eyes glazing over as you scroll through your phone. Made him want to embarrass you more, in much worse ways.

After the nurse takes his vitals, he’s instructed to sit down, thanking some deity that the seat across from you is freed. You’re keeping yourself distracted, much to his dismay, so kicks his shoe to grab your attention, placing it on his other knee.

It works as well as he hopes, your eyes flickering up to him. He can’t help but look as if he can’t be bothered. In the corner of his eye, you look back to your own phone, biting your lip.

Eddie spends the next little bit getting your attention however he can, wondering how much it takes for your eyes to wander back to him. By trial and error, not much. He turns on a heavy metal band, nodding his head enthusiastically to the loud drum beats.

As time goes on, he gets more bored and waits impatiently for his name to be called. He figured stitches would be a priority, no? It’s past his bedtime, he decides, as he yawns a big stretch, despite the pain he causes for himself.

As he does, he catches the way your eyes are glued to him, particularly the strip of skin his shirt lifts to show. In real time, Eddie witnesses your eyes glaze over and how your teeth nervously graze your bottom lip. Whatever was on your mind, he desperately wanted to know, mesmerized at the way your throat swallows.

Finally, you make eye contact with him, and Eddie needs to let you know how much he just saw, your lust for him clear as day. He can’t lie, the feeling is entirely mutual, the look on your face is something he wants to see over and over as he rails— he’s getting ahead of himself.

Instead, he opts for a smirk, admiring the way your pretty eyes hold his gaze this time. He relaxes back into his chair, daring you to say something as he smiles with a hint of satisfaction…and all the cockiness his body can handle.

You shyly look back at your phone, failing to hide the smile that invades your face. It takes Eddie a moment to gain the courage, but he finally decides he can’t let you go if he's nursing a hard on in the fucking waiting room from your gaze alone.

By the time he finds a pen and paper to give your number, he’s writing it down when the nurse calls your name.

Eddie sighs, watching your ass in those jeans as you walk away. Just his luck.

-

As the new year passes, the memory of the hot stranger in the waiting room fades, much to your dismay.

The very night you had a dream where he meets you in some sort of dark room, tugging down your jeans you were wearing and wrapping those hands around your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Your hyperventilating mixed with the way your cunt spasmed as you came woke you up, taking a minute to catch your breath. That morning you groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more but to track him down.

Days passed and soon you’re in the grocery store, arm still wrapped for another week as you walk around the store for some basics. Milk, eggs, bread, all on your mother’s tab, of course. You were two seconds away from pushing your small cart to the checkout counter when you remember you're out of mouthwash.

As you try to decide whether to grab the one you liked which was not on sale or the one that was, a set of footsteps pass and settle right next to you, the customer also assessing mouth hygiene products.

The person's foot tapped, and by reflex you switch your glance down to the sound, and immediately recognize the boots. Your head moves up so fast you swear you give yourself whiplash to his face, facing the shaggy locks you found yourself obsessed with that night in the ER.

“Oh shit” you say out loud, before you could even stop it.

His eyes flicker to yours and recognize you off the bat. His smile gives way to deep dimples. He’s exactly as hot as you remember, if not more.

Of course, you can’t find it in yourself to assume he recognizes you, even if his eyes spell it out for you. “Sorry, I-I just remember you from the ER last month. How’s that stab wound?”

He chuckles, something that makes your legs clench together. “Uh, it’s better.” He comments, lifting his shirt to demonstrate. Is it unnecessary for Eddie to show his stitches? Absolutely. Did he do it for the visual reaction he missed so much? Also, yes.

Unfortunately, his bare waist is gone as soon as it appears, barely giving you a second to take in the purple stitches. You bite your lip as you glance at his face, his smirk displayed almost driving a whimper out of you.

“How’s your arm?”

“What?” You ask, incredibly distracted by the everything about him.

He chuckles pointing to the wrapped arm you can’t use as you shopped but to push the cart. “Oh, one more week then I’m free.” You comment, indicating the gauze.

“That’s good.” He comments, switching his glance back to the toothbrushes he was glancing at earlier.

How are you already messing this up? Might as well cut your losses. “Alright, nice seeing you, again.”

“Whoa, whoa.” He says, grabbing at your uninjured arm before you make your hasty exit. Your eyes peer at him curiously, wondering what he could’ve possibly wanted. “Here,”

His hands move to the leather jacket and grab a folded piece of paper to hand out to you. “What’s that?”

“My number” he answers, stating the obvious. “Shoot me a text, call me, I don’t care. Just do it. Please.”

“You’re really giving your number on a piece of paper?” You ask, tilting your head and forgetting your nervousness for two seconds. “What is this, 1986?”

He laughs, deep and whole, and for some reason it causes a heart palpitation. “Yeah, I guess I am. I planned on giving it to you at the ER, but the nurse whisked you away before I could.”

“Huh?” You ask, your brain short circuiting.

He laughs again as you accept the number, your hands holding onto it tightly as if it might disappear. He picks a toothbrush, seemingly at random and examines it, shrugging as he tosses it into his basket. “Call me,” he says, winking, and walks away from where he came from.

As he walks away, his cologne invades your senses, breath stuttering as you breathe him in. Oh, you are definitely calling him.

As soon as you’re checked out, you find yourself having to use the bathroom, so you wander to the back of the store and down the hall where the single unisex bathroom is.

It’s locked, so you check your phone as you wait, leg shaking to distract yourself from the need. When the bathroom door opens, you look up to face the patron and your brain deflates.

“Holy shit.” You gasp, facing the kind stranger, whose name you learned is Eddie from the number he gave you. You stare at one another, taking each other in, your breath heavy and your heartbeat in your ears. Why were you here, again?

Instantaneously, his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your winter jacket, tugging you forward as he places his lips on yours. Your bags drop from your hands as you gasp in surprise, your brain taking a moment to catch up.

As soon as it does, you grab onto his jacket and kiss him back, meeting his enthusiasm feverishly. His tongue darts out to meet yours, you accept it wholeheartedly, taking in how weak his lips alone make you feel.

Eddie starts to pull you backwards and into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you’re pushed up against the wall, whimpering as he moves his body against you. “Fuck.” He whispers against your lips, taking a moment to catch his breath.

You hum in response, lips reaching for him again. As you do, your hands sneak past his jacket and onto his t-shirt, clutching at the fabric as you finally feel up his torso.

“Nuh uh.” He tsks, pulling back from you. When you pout, he laughs and gives you a look of pity. “I just gotta know one thing, there, sweetheart.”

“Anything.” You promise, not knowing what you’re getting into. You just wanted his lips back on yours.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, slightly taunting you. “Okay.” He leans down, breathing down your neck as he places his lips by your ear. “What were you thinking about in that waiting room while you ogled me, sweetheart?”

Okay, not that. You sigh in embarrassment, learning he knew exactly what you were thinking while you gawked at his chest, gawked at him.

“Don’t act all embarrassed, now.” He chides, observing how your eyes widen just how he remembered. “Tell me. Tell me and we’ll do every raunchy little thing that pretty brain came up with.” He taps the tip of your nose gently with the pad of his finger. You wish he'd shove it past your lips.

Your eyes widen as the arousal floods the panties you wear. All you can do is breathe hard and attempt to find the words.

“Let me help you.” He says, shifting his weight against you slightly. “Was it my hands down those tight ass jeans you were wearing?” You gasp as his fingers barely graze your jeans’ waistband. “Or even better was my tongue on that wet cunt of yours?” You shake your head no, as much as you wanted both of those things. You didn’t even get that far. “Were you on your pretty knees?” Finally, you nod, confirming exactly what you were thinking about.

“Your cock was down my throat while I nuzzled your…” you trail off, lifting his shirt to see the patch of hair again, “oh my god.”

He chuckles, rewarding you with a wet and dirty kiss. All too soon, he pulls away. “Then what, baby?”

Your mind is dumb, trying to come up with it. “Then…then you bent me over and fucked me—” you whine as his knee bucks up between your legs and makes harsh contact with your cunt, “with your hand around my throat.”

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, teeth gritted as he gives you a look at screams with lust. “Believe me, if you asked, I would’ve.”

“Yeah?” You ask, licking your lips as your head leans back into the door. “What about your cut?”

“To hell with my cut! I had a pretty girl practically giving me the eyes, you think I care about some little scratch?”

You stare at him in disbelief, your body and breaths stilling for a minute. “Then do it.”

Eddie smirks at you, and you stare at his pretty pink lips as he leans in and kisses you, both impossibly dirty and sweet simultaneously. Eddie’s knee contacts your cunt again, this time forcing a moan out your lips. Blindly you move your hand down his chest, finally gripping the hard-on straining against the fabric of his jeans.

He gives you his first moan, a sound that opens the floodgates. “Wanna get on those knees for me, baby?”

You nod, giving one last kiss to the spot where his jaw meets his neck. Slowly, you kiss your way down his body where finally you find yourself face to face with the cock that’s pushing its way out of his pants. You fumble with the button for a second before you finally reveal him, and it’s so much better than you could’ve imagined.

So much bigger, too.

You smile up at him through your eyelashes, grateful for fates allowing you in the same place at the same time. He places his hand under your chin, licking his lips as he examines your expression of desire. “Suck my cock, baby.”

You eye his treasure trail, dipping your nose into it as you inhale his musk, uninjured hand wrapping around his thick girth. You mewl at the scent; the aroma is even better than you had imagined. One of his large hands slides itself gently along your cheek, his long thumb stroking at the apple of your sweet smile. You stare up at him, kissing the underside of the head of his cock with wet lips. Your tongue pokes out, flat as you lick it slowly, taking your sweet time, admiring the way he lets out whimpers.

“Oh…shit.”

This urges you to wrap your lips around the head, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on it gently. You take your lips off him, spitting the excess saliva in your mouth onto his shaft, your hand slowly moves up and down, jerking his length to spread the slick along his cock. The shine is pretty, the spit accentuating the pink blush.

“Pretty cock,” you compliment him, laughing breathily as you go cross-eyed just staring at it. “Tastes better than I thought it would.”

“Did you think about tasting my cock, sweet girl?”

You wrap your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down as you confirm what he asked with a simple hum. He’s big, the tip hitting the back of your mouth and that wasn’t even half of it. You choke on him, the guttural sounds echoing loudly against the tiled walls. A want of more of him in your mouth invades your mind, not tasting nearly enough of him.

You attempt to take in more of him, choking on it even more but struggling to, despite the desperate need. “Settle down, sweet girl,” he mutters, harshly brushing his fingers against your cheek as he peers down at you. “Relax your throat. Take all those tense muscles and relax ‘em.” You think about it, letting those reflexes remain tense to rest. You’re holding back more saliva, but you fail to realize it until your mouth is flooded with spit, overflowing past the barrier of your lips. “Oh, good girl.”

It's alien but mind numbingly arousing as you feel him move down your throat, moaning around him. His fingers comb through your hair, and roughly move against your scalp. “That’s it, breathe through your nose, sweets.”

The heel of his palms rest on your forehead, moving you up and down his cock. You find it stupidly easy to submit to him, the tip hitting roughly against the back of your throat. His groans are louder than the guck, guck, guck that are hitting wall to wall against the tiles. He’s brutal about it, increasing his speed from 0 to 100 quick as a thought.

Hot tears spill over your water line down your cheeks, trailing the makeup you wear down to your throat. Your hands weave themselves against the cotton of his t-shirt, fighting to keep letting him fuck your throat. “You’re so damn good at this, sweetheart, pretty little mouth working so well.”

He finally lets go, poking his cock against the inside of your cheek one last time, appreciating the swell as the glistening from your tears shine on your face. He uses his thumb to lift your chin up to him, his darkened eyes raking over your face. His pink lips parted, his dilated pupils, the heaving of his chest, there’s nothing you’d want more than to earn this gaze again. “C’mere.”

He lifts you by your chin up to kiss you, dirtily lacing his tongue against yours. “What a good girl you are, taking it so well.” A smile lights up your face from his praise. He tugs you back in for another one, a hum vibrating against his lips. A hand of his trails down your body, single handedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Good work like that deserves a reward, hmm?”

His large hand moves past the opened fly and works itself against your panties. A gasp escapes your mouth only at the touch of his fingers on your covered folds, mewling as he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He’s not even really moving them against you, but just his touch gives you some of the pressure you needed. “Christ, you’re wet,” he comments, dipping his head to work his tongue against your pulse. “Choking on my cock really got you off, huh?”

You nod, eagerly agreeing with him. “So big.”

He smirks, pressing pressure on your clothed folds, in small circles. “You like my big cock, huh? Is it as big as you thought it would be?”

“Bigger,” you gasp, hands grabbing on any clothes he wears anxiously.

His finger easily moves the fabric aside, finger attaching itself right to your clit. The pleasure is good, eyes fluttering closed as it grows startlingly fast. “Fuck,” you swear, your voice rough. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, close?” You nod, despite the embarrassment that floods your senses. “I haven’t even started to touch you yet, baby. I still wanted to feel that tight pussy wrapped around my fingers.”

His actions mimic his words, inserting two fingers hastily into you, moving them expertly as they fuck you. With how wet you are, his two digits slide in easily. They’re long, reaching a depth in you that you could only dream about. You gush around him, music to his ears as your whimpers grow more and more pathetic. His thumb touches your clit again, rubbing frantically.

You gasp, mewling as his teeth start to nibble skillfully along the length of your neck. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue licks a sinfully long stripe up your neck to your ear, his voice intense and husky. “Cum all over my fingers, sweetheart, make a fucking mess for me.” Your hand tangles into his hair, gripping at his root. You stutter through a sentence of whines and half-finished words, failing to convey how good his fucking fingers make you feel. “So pathetic, huh?”

The words that you wanted to say were, you make me feel so good. Instead, you say, “M-ak-m, so-so good.”

Your good arm wraps itself around his shoulders, pulling his body against yours. Against your better judgment, your other hand moves his chin so your lips kiss his desperately, wanting every wet touch of them on yours. Your whimper into his mouth, pussy fluttering around his fingers as you finally cum, drenching his fingers just as he had requested.

“There she is,” he mutters, his flat palm moving under your jacket and shirt and grazing gently along your bare torso.

It takes you a second to recover from it, still feeling the effects of it throughout your body as it lingers. You unzip your jacket, letting it fall on the bathroom floor. You can’t find it in yourself to care for the moment, but it will find itself in the wash later. As it’s a walk-in bathroom, there are poles next and adjacent to the toilet. Perfect.

“Fuck me?” You ask, eyes glazed over as they reach his.

He chuckles, hands landing on your hips. Your jeans are pushed down your legs, resting just below your knees. “I thought you'd never ask, sweets.”

You grin, pushing his jacket off his shoulders onto the floor. Before it even hits the floor, you grab onto the fabric of his shirt and step backward over your own jacket to pull him across the room to the said metal bar installed on the wall.

His fingers slink into his pocket that’s now down his leg, holding a condom between you and him. You pick it up from his fingers and fling it across the room. “I’m on birth control.”

Eddie’s hands grab under your legs when your back hits the wall, supporting you surprisingly well as your ass rests on his forearms.

He sighs, eyes half mooned as he stares down at you. “My arms are occupied, mind helping me out here?”

You giggle, spitting on your hand and grabbing between the two of you at the cock that keeps brushing against your inner thigh, moving it against your entrance. It slides in easily, the mushroom tip pushing in as two of you moan in sync. Your hand moves to the bar on the wall, starting to help him as you lean some of your weight onto it.

“How is your pussy even better than I thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, gasping in uneven breaths.

“So, so full,” you gasp back, his size far bigger than you’ve ever had. “So big.”

“You’re fucking tight, sweets.” He mutters, jaw dropping as he watches you watching him.

“Move.” You urge him, the stretch too much yet his still hips are driving you crazy. “Need you to move,” It comes out as a pathetic whine and you know it, but you’re long past caring at this point.

“Say no more,” Eddie mutters, starting to move slowly, his hips rolling perfectly against you.

He hits deep and he hits hard. “Just like that! Fuck!”

“Your pussy, fuck, baby, yours is just a new fucking standard!”

You curl into his neck, nipping and starting to mark the pale skin with purple, teeth digging in harder the faster and harder he fucks. You can’t answer his compliment, but the way you tighten around him is confirmation enough that you are in complete agreement with him. It’s like he knows exactly how you like it before you tell him, intuitively knowing you before even has the opportunity to find out.

He watches every reaction you give him carefully, how your legs tighten around his waist, your hands twisting themselves in his shirt, the mewls that leave your mouth mixed with words that you never finish, he takes every hint as gospel. He’s always intuitive to what a partner of his needs, but you’re a special case, every reaction you give him only makes him insatiable for more. The way your eyes roll back in your head is everything he’s ever wanted to see from you and more, never could he have imagined anything like this when you glanced at him in the E.R.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum, sweets,” Eddie moans, fingers digging into your bare thigh, the pressure surely bruising the skin.

“Choke me.” You gasp, voice desperate for him.

“Hands are occupied, babe.” He answers, gruff and brows furrowed.

You tap the bar, using both hands now. “I got it.”

He whines, high-pitched and gorgeous. The kind of whine you listen to on men whimpering audios. Maybe you can make it happen more. Maybe one day he’ll let you worship him for a few hours…the idea is enticing. His large hand wraps itself around your throat, the metal of his rings causing harsh friction on your neck. He admires the way you revel in it, tongue poking out of your mouth like the slut you are for him. “You’re more of a slut than I thought you are, hmm?”

You nod, his strong arm flexed and mouth watering. The drool that slips down your tongue is pure proof of it, dampening your shirt in a little streak.

“What a good little pathetic slut,” he grins, rubbing your jawline with his thumb. His grip tightens, only enough to send stars in your vision.

You tap his arm, begging him for air. “A slut for you.” You gasp, whining for him. “Want your cum, please, please cum in me.”

“Can you beg for me one more time?” He asks, your question almost making him erupt on the spot.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, arms starting to lose their strength. “I wanna be dripping from you, so bad.”

“Yeah, want Daddy’s cum?” he asks, hands gripping into your hair.

Of course, this man has a daddy kink, you couldn’t expect anything less from him. “Yes, Daddy.” You whine, grinning at his hold on you. “Fill me up.”

“Baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up—Jesus Christ.” He interrupts himself, cutting himself off as he ruts into you a final, gasping, sweaty time. He twitches in you, feeling him fill you up as some of starts to trickle out of your pussy and down your thigh.

His hand lets go of your hair, wrapping around your torso as he pulls you into an embrace. This is the kind of sex that takes time to recover from, both out of breath, his dick still twitching. A smile takes over your features, invading every muscle in your face.

“So, think you’re gonna call me?” He asks, hand moving itself under your shirt to gently brush against your bare skin.

“I’ll definitely text you.” You answer, chuckling at the annoyed look he shoots you when he pulls back in your embrace. “Oh, come on.”

He chuckles, and for some odd reason the last thing you expect from him is another kiss, his lips working marvelously against yours. They’re much gentler, much sweeter than you expected, yet everything you’d crave from him.

“What was that?” You ask, watching his two gorgeous brown eyes.

“What, you think I’m gonna let you go after that?” He asks, half a smile on his face. “Wanna come to my place later?”

“Later?” You ask, one eyebrow quirked at him.

“I’m heading home right now, wanna join me?” He kisses the top of your eyebrow, your cheekbone, your jawline, your still covered shoulder. “I kind of need to spend a few hours with my nose buried in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Your jaw drops, your mouth drying completely from his admission. “Y-yeah, th-that sounds nice.”

He laughs at your stutter; your pussy having tightened around him upon the mention of it.

Three knocks hit the door, loud and abrupt. “Hurry the fuck up!”

You look at one another with wide eyes, laughing at the disruption. He backs up, his cock leaving your entrance being a loss you whimper at. “Don’t worry, sweets. I will fuck you more than enough times to satisfy that need.”

“Dunno,” you start, legs shaky as you land on them, “I think I’m pretty insatiable at this point.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep going, won’t we?” Eddie asks, pulling his jeans and boxers up his legs.

“And if I’m never satisfied?” you ask, tilting your head as you pull up your own pants.

“Well then I guess we’ll just never stop.”

You grin at his answer, biting your lip excitedly.

The silence is comfortable as you pick your jackets back up and the bags on the ground. His fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the hall past the angry customer and out the front door of the store.

He offers to eventually take you back to your car when you need to go back home, wanting more time with you even if it’s the mere ten minutes that it takes to get to his apartment.

Not one moment is wasted as he yanks you to his bedroom, pushing you onto his bed. As promised, your jeans are yanked down your legs quick as can be, burying his nose deep in your cunt.

Only after the eighth orgasm does Eddie yank off your clothes, followed by his, finally skin against skin as he rails you in every position, even the ones you didn’t know were possible.

You might have to thank your brother for spraining your wrist, it’s the best thing he’s ever done for you.

-

Thanks for reading! I read every comment and tag you leave and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

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[got-svt]

the road not taken

summary: you live in la, he lives in seoul. you don’t think it’s ever going to work out, but he believes otherwise. especially when every year on the holidays, both of you rediscover that your hearts are still in chicago. aka the conversations that had you rethinking your relationship.   pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: angst, friends with benefits (but only on the holidays lmao — implied sex, so no actual smut), some fluff at the end kinda word count: 2637

part of my tales from the lakes series inspired by taylor swift’s ‘tis the damn season

___

Truth be told, despite the fact that you were neighbors and your parents were quite close with his, you didn’t know much about Johnny in the years you spent growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Sure, you caught glimpses of him from your bedroom practicing whatever song or dance routine he felt like he needed to improve on. More often than not, you’d find yourself laughing as he accidentally bumped into a shelf or slip and fall over on the floor. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t taken a peek out his window to watch you running lines, a script in you hand as you paced around the room, a smile creeping on his face as he watches you shake your head every time you forget a line. In a way, you both formed some sort of a relationship as you silently cheered the other on in whatever endeavor you put your minds to.

He wanted you to succeed just as much as you wanted him to succeed. 

But when he moved to Korea to pursue a career as an idol, and you to LA for acting, there were little to no opportunities to actually begin a proper conversation. 

It wasn’t until in December of 2017, when both of your parents decided to have a joint Christmas dinner in celebration of both their children coming home for the holidays for the first time in years. They thought it was time for you two to meet, having settled in your respective career paths. Maybe they also wanted to see how the two of you would get along, but they would never admit it even if you ask. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He told you once he entered your parents’ house and offering a hand for you to shake, “I’m Johnny.”

“Yn.” You replied, taking his hand in yours, “And, trust me, I know exactly who you are.”

He raised an eyebrow at your statement as he let go of your hand, you shivered at the immediate loss of contact, your hand immediately growing colder at the absence of his. 

“NCT?” You asked tentatively, testing the waters of what could possibly be an exciting new friendship.  

“Ah yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “I guess there’s no use in pretending I don’t know who you are either.”

It was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Hmmm?”

“I’ve seen pretty much every show you’ve ever been on.” Johnny clarified, but his tone suggested a bit of embarrassment on his part, “The other members don’t believe me when I tell them I practically grew up next to you.”

“I guess I could say the same.” You replied with a shrug, but you offered him a reassuring smile “Nobody really believes me when I tell them a Kpop star used to be my neighbor.” 

“Perhaps we need better friends then.” He joked, but your gaze was fixated on the way the curve of his lips moved with each word that left his mouth. Johnny had always been attractive, whether it be through your bedroom window or your computer screen. But now here he stood, in front of you, bare faced in black jeans and a gray sweatshirt and somehow he had never looked more alluring. 

Johnny noticed you watching him, but he never called you out on it. Maybe because he was too busy thinking about how soft your hand was when he shook it, imagining how it must feel running over his skin. Or how your hair seemed fall perfectly, framing your face in a way that was enticing him for reasons he couldn’t exactly figure out. 

“Care for a drink?” You asked, breaking the brief period of tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, leading him to the makeshift bar your parents had near the kitchen. 

He smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, “I thought you’d never ask.”

And maybe it was because of both of your parents deciding to turn in early and the three bottles of wine that was shared between the two of you that had you pinned against the wall of your childhood bedroom, quietly giggling into his lips as he went in for another kiss. He drunkenly mumbled words that you couldn’t quite understand, but he was telling you to keep quiet. You knew you should have stopped him the second planted his lips onto yours, and he knew he should’ve pulled away when you started taking off his shirt. Maybe then you wouldn’t have woken uncomfortably cuddled up on your twin-sized bed and sneaking him out of the house before your parents could wake up. 

But both of you enjoyed the way your bodies seemed to be made just for the other too much to stop, and thus, a tradition of sorts was formed. 

2018. 

One particular night the following year had you driving around the city, Johnny had one hand on the steering wheel while the other held yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. But it did everything but comfort you or himself. Since the previous year, you and Johnny grew much closer than either have you had anticipated. You thought it would all end after that first night or maybe when you flew back to LA, and him back to Seoul. But it had been seemingly impossible to move away from whatever relationship that began to form, as both of you sacrificed nights of well warranted sleep to call or text the other, soon enough both of you were in too deep to easily get out. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, taking note of how the streetlights perfectly illuminated his face. He had been unusually quiet and you were growing tired of the Christmas songs that had been blasting on every radio station for the past few hours. 

“It’s nothing.” He sighed as he turned to an unfamiliar street, you knew better than to believe that it was truly nothing. But you also knew him well enough to not to push it. 

“Where are we going then?”

Johnny replied with a shrug, continuing down the foreign path, he knew neither of you had been to this particular part of town but at that point he’d do anything to even remotely extend the time you spent together. 

“And if we get lost?” You asked, your voice almost challenging him to turn back, but he didn’t give in. 

“Then we get lost.” He replied without missing a single beat, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards to form a smile, “You know, the road not taken tend to be the most exciting.”

“Oh wow,” You let out a laugh, and Johnny feels his heart skip the slightest of beats, “and where did that immensely profound quote come from?”

“My brilliant mind.” He grinned, briefly turning to face you. 

Johnny wished he had a camera to capture the absolute spectacle that was you. How you stared out the window, at the unfamiliar road, eyes alive with a certain curiosity. Your finger drawing little stars on the car window, pouting when it doesn’t quite look the way you wanted it to. It was at that moment he knew, you were all he wanted. 

“What are we?” He asked, causing you to jump a little in your seat, Johnny had never brought up the nature of your relationship before. 

“Friends?” You said, at an attempt to offer him an answer, but even you sounded unsure at your response which made Johnny grow hopeful. 

“Yn, friends don’t kiss.” Johnny responded, grateful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t need you seeing right through his pretend confidence, “They sure as hell don’t sleep together”

“Sure, they do.” You joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, maybe even change the topic to something—anything— else, “I do it all the time.”

“Well, acting is different.” He let out a scoff, annoyed at the thought of you not taking the conversation seriously,  “You know what I meant.”

“I like where we are now. It’s easy.” You explained, wanting to make him understand where you were coming from, “Relationships are messy, given the industries we are in. There’s no pressure with this. With you and me.”

“But what if I wanted something more—”

“It’s never going to work.” You cut him off before he could even make his case, before he could ask you to be his. 

“Now, why do you say that?” There was a slight tremble in his voice, and you had never heard him sound so nervous, scared even. The feeling of guilt slowly crept up your system, but you shook it away before it even had the chance to fully settle in. 

“Time, distance, to begin with. Not to mention both of our very busy careers.” 

“Then I guess this is good enough for me.”

For now, he added in his head, determined to make you see otherwise. 

You smiled at him, glad to have the conversation over with and thinking that this would be the last time you’ll ever speak about it. 

2019.

Johnny wanted to prove you wrong, show you that both of you could in fact make it work. You just needed to try. Which came with more calls and texts than normal as you got to know each other more than you already did, flowers sent to you on your birthday, several little gifts every now and then, and even slowly introducing you to the other members of NCT. His efforts did not go unnoticed, but it definitely left you more confused. 

When both of you went home for the holidays that particular year, you knew something had changed. Johnny was more reserved than usual, and you would usually have to be the one to initiate sleeping together. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing this?” He asked, turning to face you, as you lied side-by-side on his childhood bed. 

“Doing what?” You asked, feigning confusion, preparing yourself for the inevitable conversation you had been dreading for the past few months.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His voice was calm, but it chilled you to the core. 

“What do you want me to say, Johnny?” You snapped, the tone in your voice letting him know how exasperated you were as you shut your eyes, “That I like you? That I want to be with you?”

“Don’t you?”

You let out a sigh, still keeping your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look at him, he’d know if you were lying. You didn’t know if you had it in you to lie. Instead, you focused on the sound of his breathing, steady and almost reassuring. You imagined the rise and fall of his bare chest, covered by the thick white blanket. 

Johnny knew to drop the subject when you didn’t even make an attempt to answer his question, he probably didn’t want to know the answer anyways. But Johnny knew he loved you, and part of him knew you loved him back. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let this little charade go on for as long as it did. You just needed time. And he was more than willing to give it to you. 

“A year.”

Your eyes opened at his words, your head turned to face him,  “What?”

“I’m giving you a year.”

You didn’t have to ask again. You knew exactly what he meant, what he wanted. He wanted an answer. 

“Is this an ultimatum?”

He takes your hands in his, “It’s me letting you know that I’m serious about wanting to be with you.”

“Johnny—”

He kisses the side of your head before you could even finish your sentence, an action so tender that it caused you to forget every single coherent thought of protest. 

“Hey, you don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it. Please?”

“I will.” 

And with those two words, you stood and gathered your clothes off the floor and put them back on. He gave you a small nod as you turned to leave his room, going back into the freezing cold and leaving the warmest bed you had ever known. 

2020.

Neither of you could come home to Chicago that year. 

And so you both had to settle for a reunion through a screen. You wished that circumstances were different, but at the same time you were grateful that you didn’t have to give him an answer in person. Mainly because you didn’t have one. 

When his face appeared on your computer screen, you couldn’t help the ache that crept up in your chest at the sight of him. 

“Hey, yn.” He greeted with a smile.

You missed him.

After the exchange of pleasantries and a bit of small talk on both ends, Johnny wasted no time in getting to the purpose of your call, “I believe you owe me something.” 

“Johnny—“

“Before you say anything, I want you to know that for me, it’s always been you. After all this time, even with all the distance between us.”

Johnny moved his face closer to the camera, as if that would somehow help his point come across more genuinely. You had to stop your hand from reaching out to try and wipe the single tear that fell on his cheek.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask.” He said, trying to keep his voice from faltering too much, “After this, I won’t try to push it anymore. But I want you to tell me the truth. Don’t you wish—“

“It’s not going to work.”

“We haven’t even tried, Yn.” It almost sounded like he was pleading, begging you to give him and the two of you a chance. He wasn’t there with you in person, but he didn’t have to be for you to feel the sincerity in his words.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, finally choosing to truly let him in for the very first time since you met, “What if it doesn’t work out? I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to.”

Johnny said it with such conviction, such confidence, that you felt like you had no choice but to believe him. Your eyes studied his face, looking for any sign of wariness or doubt. Only to find none. You could only find hopefulness, and maybe even love. With one final review of his features, you had made your decision. 

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” He asked, just to make sure, but he made no attempt in holding back the grin that slowly spread across his face. The sight of which made your heart flutter. 

“We’ll try. I want to be with you.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t you had been holding as the final word left your lips. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, the floodgates in your eyes releasing the tears it had been holding onto for months now. Nervousness still coursed through your veins, but it was mixed with a different kind of emotion: excitement. 

“You’re smiling, but you’re also crying. I’m not sure if I should be concerned.” Johnny joked, the crinkles in eyes becoming much more apparent as he stared at your face through the screen. 

“I’m still scared,” You confessed, “but I’m excited.”

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle at your confession, waiting for you to wipe your tears away before he continued speaking, 

“Well, Yn, didn’t I tell you the road not taken would be the most exciting? Trust me, it’s looking really good now.”

[byronblogs]

Squealing Santa 2020- Cheating

“You should have thought about that before you cheated.” Iida shows Kaminari what happens when he cheats. @tickly-floof @ticklygiggles  

Kaminari finally succeeds in cheating on his Hero History test when it rubs Iida the wrong way, punishment ensues. (He is the Class Rep and all.) Fandom; BNHA/MHA

A/N: Sorry that the characterization might not be great, but I figured it was pretty close for someone who hasn't written anything creative for months😁 hope you like it! Merry Christmas❤

    For once in a lifetime, Class 1-A was actually warned about a test before Aizawa Sensei walked into class with the paperwork in one hand and a sleeping bag in the other. Everyone had prepared differently, some spent a whole week pouring over assignments and textbooks, some let it slip into the background and crammed at the last minute, and some decided they could sneak past the Class Rep while he was leading a study group and steal the answers. Kaminari thought he was smart, and he spent a good hour patting himself on the back for getting the test copy without his teacher or Iida noticing. 

    Normally, Kaminari would have shared, if he was honest he intended to, but he was already so impressed with his expertly executed recon mission that he didn’t want Mina to accidentally say something at the wrong time or have Mineta find out and bribe him for answers. Yes, Normally he would have shared, but a success like this was hardly normal. 

    Kaminari’s second success was when he somehow managed to sneak his answers into the class and turn in his test without revealing himself. He was sure that at this point, Aizawa was either letting it slide or losing his touch. 

    Not more than a day later did the tests come back, and kaminari could not have been happier. He’d thrown a few answers to look less suspicious and managed to land himself a solid B, the highest grade he’d had in years. He was so busy fawning over it in the dorms that he never even noticed Mina come up behind him in the dining area. 

    “Is that your test, Kami? Ooh! Let me see, let me see! Did you flunk it too?” Mina had pulled the test from his hands before he could even react to her presence, thankfully she was out of the way before a startled shock jumped between his fingertips. 

    “Woah! Hey, lay off!” Kaminari twisted in his chair as he tried to grab his test back, “Be careful, you’ll crumple it!”

    “You say that like you wanna tape it to the fridge, what did you get, an F minus?” Mina giggled, using one hand to push Kami away and the other to hold the paper up as she scanned it, “Woah! What the hell, Kami!? How’d you get a B?” Kaminari nearly fell out of his chair when she removed her hand from his face to cradle the test in both hands.

    “You what?” Iida’s voice echoed through the room as he stood up on the other side of the table where he, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu had been going over their grades. The Rest of the class must have been off doing the same in the solitude of their rooms.

    “Nice work Kaminari!” Midoriya cheered from his seat, ever encouraging. Several positive reactions came from around the room as Bakugou appeared seemingly out of nowhere to tear the paper from Mina’s hands.

    “Damn, Sparky, not bad, you cheat or something?” Bakugou scoffed, eyebrows quirked as he scanned the test over before Iida stomped over and took the test as well, earning an indignant growl from the blond.

    “Precisely my question,” Iida frowned over the test before narrowing his eyes at Kaminari, “Cheating is forbidden in all testing environments,if you achieved this grade through dis-honest means-”

    “Woah woah woah! Everybody slow down, I didn’t cheat! I just studied! Can we please just stop playing Ring Around the Rosie with my test?” Kaminari begged, speaking a little too quickly as he leapt from his seat to grab his test, only for Iida to catch his wrist.

    “Oh, I don’t think so, you never study, especially of your own accord. Don’t lie to me. Did. You. Cheat?” Iida seemed more bristled than usual, his frown deeper and his height towering. 

    “Jeez, Iida, let me have this!”

    “Answer the question.”

    “I- well…” Kaminari gulped, “Okay fine! Yes, I cheated, but I think I should be getting a pat on the back anyway,do you know how hard it was to sneak past you and Aizawa Sensei? My recon skills should be applauded!” He pulled his wrist from Iida’s grip and threw his hands in the air, pouting.

    “Kaminari!” Iida chastised, “You are a student of UA, you should be holding yourself to a higher standard than this!”

    “Calm down, Iida! It’d just one stupid test!” Kaminari held his hands out defensively as Iida started stepping closer, Kami stepping back. At this point, everyone had grown quiet. Bakugou had stepped back to watch the show, Mina simply taking a seat on the table to stay out of the fray, and the study group in the corner sharing looks, wondering if they should be breaking this up.

    Nobody had ever seen Iida this angry, however, nobody had ever successfully cheated on a test either, “It is not just a ‘stupid test!’” Iida’s voice had yet to raise, but it certainly seemed more strained as he stepped forward, jabbing a finger at Kaminari with every step as the test crumpled in his other hand. “As Class Rep, it is my job to ensure that 1-A is holding a standard and behaving as future heroes should, and as of this moment you have done nothing but shatter that image!”

    Iida had backed Kami into a wall, leaving the boy nowhere to go but sideways, causing Iida’s poke to miss its mark on Kami’s chest and land on his side instead. It was the strangled yelp that left Kaminari’s throat that seemed to sober Iida for a moment.

    “Kaminari?” His voice was calmer, concerned as he scanned over his classmate, “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

    “Nope! I mean! Uh-” he swallowed, “I’m fine! All good! I would like to leave this conversation though, so if you don’t mind-” Kami moved to pass Iida, a faint blush on his cheeks, only for the taller boy to gently push him back into the wall by his shoulder and reach for his side.

    “Absolutely not. You don’t have much of an honesty streak going,and if you’re hurt your injuries should be addressed!” Iida gingerly started squeezing Kaminari’s side, searching for whatever injury caused his outcry, paying careful attention to how the boy stiffened.

    “H-Hey! Easy, Iida, I told you, I’m fine!” Kami insisted, pushing at Iida’s hand, still firmly planted on his shoulder. “Seriously, man, just lay- Ah!” The squeak certainly caught Iida’s attention.

    “Is that where it hurts?” Iida questioned, gently pressing on the little spot beneath Kami’s ribs to feel for injuries.

    “No, Iida! Wahait!” Kami dipped his head low and pulled a leg up to his stomach as his giggle escaped, trying to block Iida’s fingers. 

    It took the Class Rep about ten seconds of confused staring to finally get it. “Oh.” The subtle grin that spread across Iida’s face was devilish, and his tone was no better, drawing Kami’s wide eyes up to meet his.

    “Oh god, don’t you dare.”

    “I think I dare.”

    The attack was sudden and brutal, the test still held between Iida’s hand and Kami’s shoulder was forgotten as the larger boy dug into Kami’s lower ribs, rippling his fingers up the boy’s ribcage as he squealed. 

    “Iida! No no no waIT! Gaha! Gehet ohohoff! Iida!” Kami flailed, floundering between pushing Iida away and slamming his arms down, eventually settling to slide down the wall and try to turn out of Iida’s gip, the test fluttering to the ground as his escape was cut short by a large arm pulling Kami’s back to Iida’s chest and digging into his ribs.

    “Well, I think I’ve just figured out how to discourage cheating in the class.” Iida proclaimed as he dove his second arm into the frey, scratching at Kami’s stomach. By now, the rest of the room had relaxed and started chuckling along, Bakugou grumbling something about wanting to see that fist fight and leaving for his room. Mina had taken to giggling hysterically and shouting tips from the sidelines, not that Iida was hearing any of it. #

    “Iidaha! Stohohop, oho my Gohohod! Plehease! I cahahan’t!” Kami kicked wildly as he clawed at the hands assaulting his torso, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming his head back against Iida’s shoulder.

    “Maybe you should have considered that before you cheated, after all, your plan was so well executed.” Iida spoke in Kami’s ear, causing the boy to crinkle his neck and pull his legs to his chest momentarily, a squeak breaking through his laughter. When holding his weight grew too distracting, Iida chose to sit down right where he was, trapping Kami in his lap as he counted up his ribs. 

    “Tell you what, if you can tell me the correct answer to one of these test questions without your cheat sheet, I’ll let you go. Sounds good?” 

    “Whahahat!? Nohohoho! I cahahan’t! Iidahaha, plehehease!” 

    “Great! Now, let’s see here…” Iida leaned to the left a little, peeking at a question on the first page, Kami had spent plenty of time staring at it, he must have learned something, “What President approved ‘Hero’ as a job in the states?”

    “Ihihi- ohoho gohod! Ihihi dohon’t know!” Kami started sliding down in Iida’s lap with his squirming, laughter bright if not a little panicked.

    “Sure you do! Guess.”

    “Uhuhum! K-Kehenedy?” he shrieked a little as Iida flipped him out of his lap and onto the floor, leaning over him as he started drilling into his hips. 

    “Not even close. Maybe you need some encouragement.” 

    “IHIHIIDAHA! Nohoho! Nohohot theheheHEHERE! Gehehet ohohohoff!” Little sparks started jumping from Kami’s hair and skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to be startling, so Iida pulled his hands away just in time for Kami to arch his back and kick the wall, connecting his heel right with a wall socket and promptly knocking out the power. For a moment, all you could hear was Kami’s huffing breaths and slowing yet hysterical giggles as he calmed down, this quiet was short-lived, however, as the whole room busted out laughing.

    “Oho my Gohod, Kami! What did you do?” Mina cackled, Midoriya wheezing like a dying seal in the corner, bent over the far end of the table. Even Todoroki was Chuckling wildly. 

    “What the FUCK, Sparky!?” Bakugou called from upstairs, presumably seething. Kaminari stopped sparking just as a glowing-eyed Aizawa walked into the room with his Capture Weapon gripped in his hands.

“What is going on in here!?”

    The chorus of different students laying out blame on Kami and Iida did the poor eclectic hero no good in his explanation of his test results.

[reyescarlos]

all through the night || a tarlos fic

❄️ @911giftexchange fic for @buckieys ❄️

happy holidays, sy! i'm wishing you a wonderful and prosperous new year. i hope this fic helps to usher in 2021 right!

word count: 5.2k || read on ao3

All through the night I'll be awake and I'll be with you All through the night This precious time when time is new

When Carlos envisioned winter in New York, his elaborate fantasies had somehow managed to eclipse the reality of what it might actually entail. He had enjoyed his brief stay, taking in the window displays along Fifth Avenue. It had long since been something he wanted to see for himself and the storefronts had more than delivered. But on the flipside of such a picturesque scene has come the downside of what heavy amounts of snow could mean.

It’s why he finds himself now planted in a too hard seat at JFK Airport, wondering how he’ll possibly fill his time now that his flight has been delayed until morning. Outside the blizzard rages on with no real end in sight and Carlos mulls over the merits of his decision to leave Texas in the New Year and make this city his home. This is a far cry from Austin. He’d once thought winter temperatures there could be bad but it’s been nothing compared to the arctic blast in the North.

He tries to keep busy with a book but his attention is split between the words before him and the cute guy across from him frantically digging inside his backpack, a phone teetering dangerously on his knee.

“God, where is that stupid thing,” the man mumbles to himself. “Come on charger, where are you?”

Carlos looks away, burying his head in his book to hide the smile that breaks out on his face. The guy is obviously peeved but Carlos can’t help but to find his muttering endearing. After another moment of fruitless searching on the stranger’s end, Carlos takes mercy on him.

“Here, you can borrow mine,” he says, unzipping his own backpack and fishing out his charger.

The man sighs in relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he replies, reaching over and taking the cord from Carlos.

He settles back and plugs it into the wall, the screen lighting up a moment later. Carlos smiles politely and gets back to reading, only to be interrupted.

“So, I take it you’re heading down to visit family before the new year comes, huh?” the stranger says.

Carlos looks up from his book, head tilting slightly. It hadn’t been expecting the man to strike up a conversation.

“Sorry, awkward small talk. I’ll let you get back to it,” he says, face scrunching as he gestures to the book in Carlos’ hands.

Carlos waves him off, bookmarking his page and closing it.

“No worries. We’re here all night so...plenty of time for that.” He licks his lips and drums his fingers against the front. “To answer your question though, no. Austin is actually my home so I’m just heading back.”

“Oh, cool. I’m going to see my dad. I thought he’d want to do the whole white Christmas, New York for the New Year thing but ever since he moved down to Austin last year, I think he’s gotten spoiled by the warmer weather.”

The man looks out of the window where the snow is swirling so heavily it’s hard to even see the sky or planes sitting idly on the tarmac.

“Guess I can’t exactly blame him.”

Carlos laughs. “It’s disgustingly cold here and all of that,” he says, gesturing to the storm, “doesn’t help. I don’t know how you guys manage.”

“You get used to it. I’ve only ever grown up with it so while I like to complain about the snow at times, I can’t picture this time of year without it. It’s been a few years since it’s been this bad though, I’ll admit.”

Carlos smiles a bit, looking out of the window briefly. “This is actually my first time experiencing snow. And the city was gracious enough to give me a blizzard to commemorate.”

The man smiles at this thoughtfully. He sits up, stretching his hand out across the aisle towards Carlos.

“I’m TK, by the way.”

Carlos touches his fingertips to his forehead before shaking TK’s hand.

“God, my mother would be so ashamed of my manners right now,” he laughs. “I’m Carlos. It’s nice to meet you.”

He lets go, his palm feeling extremely warm from TK’s touch. TK smiles at him, a slow grin that ultimately reveals his teeth. This man is very good looking, there’s no denying that. He’s got an easy way about him that makes Carlos feel comfortable in his presence as if they’re old friends catching up and not perfectly good strangers meeting for the first time.

TK’s phone buzzes, stealing his attention and Carlos is all too grateful for it. TK types something on the device for a few seconds before pausing.

“Sorry, excuse me for a second,” he says, putting his phone to his ear.

Carlos nods and gestures for him to go for it.

“Hey, Dad. I—,” TK starts out but stops short as his father speaks. “I bet it’s all over the news but I’m alright. Not looking forward to being stuck here overnight but,” he continues, his eyes landing on Carlos and away so quickly Carlos is sure he’s imagined it. “I guess there are worse ways to be trapped for a few hours.”

Carlos looks away then, cracking open his book again to keep himself occupied while TK chats with his father. He tries not to dwell heavily on TK’s look or what the implications of that glance could mean. It could’ve been a coincidence and nothing more. All the same, it doesn’t make his heart race any less to think that TK feels a spark too.

TK ends the call with a sigh, stretching out his legs before bouncing one of them. The gesture is distracting but endearing. For the second time, Carlos closes his book, this time putting it back into his bag for good as TK speaks to him again.

“Are you hungry? I could go for a bite.”

“I could eat,” Carlos says. He rises from his seat as TK does, both men dragging their carry-ons along with them.

They follow the winding path down from their gate, Carlos taking notice of all the fellow flyers now forced to wait out the storm. Some have taken to stretching out on the ground, laying on top of jackets like makeshift sleeping bags, others keeping busy with phones and tablets, hunched over in chairs.

Carlos isn’t looking forward to the uncomfortable sleep he’ll have tonight but as he looks over at TK, he wonders just how much rest he’ll actually manage to get. The guy is already proving himself to be a good way to pass the time and Carlos can’t say he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to keep chatting with him.

As they approach the cluster of food stands, TK groans and it’s easy to see why. Many of the shops are already closed, no doubt the employees hurrying home before the worst of the storm kicked in. All that’s available now is Cinnabon but Carlos supposes that can suffice as dinner.

TK orders a hot chocolate and a classic roll while Carlos opts for a cold brew in addition to a roll as well. TK eyes the drink with raised brows.

“I’m fully committing to the cause of being awake until we board, apparently,” Carlos muses, pushing his straw through the lid and taking a sip. “Worth it.”

The two head to a nearby empty table, settling into their elevated seats before unloading their food. The scent coming off the baked goods is incredible and Carlos’ stomach suddenly feels desperate for a bite.

“So, Carlos, since we’ve nominated each other for the buddy system while we wait this storm out,” he jokes, “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

Carlos drums his fingers on the tabletop as he tries to decide what to share.

“Well, you already know that Austin is where I’m from but the whole reason I’m even here now is because I’m going to be moving to New York soon. I’ll be transferring next month.”

TK’s brows raise. “Seriously? That’s awesome. Do you mind if I ask what you do?”

“I’m a police officer. I’ve been with the Austin Police Department for a few years but I’ve been considering leaving Texas for a little while now and I’ve been exploring my options. For some reason my mind kept coming back to the idea of New York and I figured I should just take the chance and see what happens.”

TK laughs and shakes his head. “Oh man, well, we have something in common, more or less. I’m with the NYFD myself.”

Carlos holds up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re a firefighter?” he laughs.

TK puffs out his chest jokingly and nods with a grin on his face. “That’s right. Ladder 252.”

Carlos does his best to push the image of TK in uniform from mind but the picture is an appealing one. He can see it so clearly, the way he’d look in suspenders, not to mention full gear. It’s almost unfair just how much hotter the man becomes as if Carlos hasn’t spent this whole time finding him attractive. He picks up his drink again for something to do with his hands, swirling the straw inside of the cup.

“Small world. Outside of my own little bubble, I can’t say I casually meet many people who are first responders. We seem to be a pretty special breed to get into this line of work.”

TK laughs. “I fell into this because of my dad. He’s been a firefighter for years. He, uh, actually was on site during 9/11. I always thought he was incredible but knowing the full scope of what he and so many others did that day and for people in times of crisis, big and small in general, it just made me want to be like him.”

Carlos frowns, unsure of what to even say or think. “Your dad’s a hero.”

“I like to think so.” TK draws in a breath, squaring his shoulders. “Anyway, now he’s kicking ass down in Texas so, even though I miss him as my captain, I know he’s doing great work with his crew down there.”

Curiosity gets the better of Carlos as he asks, “What station is he with?”

“The 126,” TK replies, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Carlos’ eyes widen. “Captain Owen Strand is your father?”

It makes sense the longer he looks at TK. Captain Strand is an attractive older guy and TK clearly got handed some solid genes. Still, it throws him for a loop to realize they have a legitimate connection to each other.

TK tilts his head to the side. “You know him? Shit, okay, wow, small world just got a whole hell of a lot smaller.”

“Unbelievable,” Carlos laughs in disbelief. “I don’t know him that well but we work together sometimes on calls. He’s amazing in the field and he’s really turned that station around.”

TK practically beams. “Guess this means we’ll be seeing each other again soon once we finally make it to Austin then.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so. Assuming you don’t get sick of me before this night is through, that is.”

TK holds Carlos’ gaze for a moment and if it were anyone else, it would be unnerving but something in TK’s stare just sends a thrill through Carlos, excites him in a way no stranger has ever really gotten under his skin.

“I don’t see that happening,” he says plainly, as if this is an irrefutable fact and not something that’s truly subject to change.

Carlos doesn’t argue the point. He merely enjoys the next few hours, seeing just how easily TK’s theory pans out.

~*~*~

The contrast in weather between New York and Austin is one of the first things Carlos’ remarks on as he steps outside of Austin-Bergstrom. He’s never been more grateful for a forty degree afternoon. He’s kept Michelle updated about his new set time and he waits patiently outside of arrivals. Beside him now, TK types out a message on his phone before smiling over at him.

Carlos has had hours to get used to that look on TK’s face and yet he’s still brought up short. Last night and the early morning hours were spent talking to TK about everything imaginable, trading stories about crazy calls they’ve been on and even touching on personal things like their families. When they grew tired of talking, they watched movies on TK’s laptop, fighting off the urge to sleep for the mere sake of hanging out.

It isn’t rare for Carlos to become friendly with a person but this connection to TK feels different in a way he can’t quite parse.

By the time their flight boarded, Carlos knocked out for the entire length of the trip but it had been worth it in his eyes to stay up and take advantage of the uninterrupted time that stretched before him with TK. It was safe to say a bit of a crush had formed, as absurd as Carlos felt for it. TK was going to be in town for the next few days and that prospect was both thrilling and terrifying. If he could feel this close to TK in one night, there’s no telling what could happen in a few days.

Before he can get lost in that thought, Carlos sees Michelle as she pulls up to the curb, the trunk popping open.

“Are you good out here?”

“My dad’s coming in just a minute. I’ll be just fine,” TK muses as Carlos puts his carry-on inside and slams the trunk shut.

“Alright, well. You have my number now so text me whenever you’re free. I’ll show you a few places while you’re here.”

Carlos extends his hand but TK rolls his eyes jokingly and pulls him into a half hug instead.

“We’ve spent the night together, Carlos. I think we’re past handshakes now.”

Carlos’ face burns with TK’s wording but the man merely laughs.

“See you soon?”

Carlos just nods and finds the wherewithal to get inside of Michelle’s car. He waves after he buckles himself in, TK lifting a hand in response.

“Okay, who is that?” Michelle asks immediately, head turned to take in the sight of TK.

Carlos tips his head back against the seat. “You won’t believe the night I’ve had.”

~*~*~

Carlos has spent two days showing TK some of his favorite stomping grounds. TK relished in all that Austin had to offer and Carlos has been happy to see that their closeness from the unexpected overnight at the airport hadn’t been a fluke. If anything, these outings have only made Carlos feel closer to TK.

Michelle has been relentless in her teasing, finding it all too amusing that Carlos managed to cross paths with Captain Strand’s son of all people. She’d clung to his every word during the ride home from the airport as he filled her in on how he waited out the storm.

The 126 meets at their usual bar and Carlos is glad for this post-work gathering. It’s the perfect time to show TK what a real honky-tonk is like, further immersing him in the culture of the state his father now resides.

TK sits next to him at the table, the large group so packed in that his leg presses against Carlos’. It’s light but it’s enough to make the point of contact all Carlos can focus on even as everyone else at the table engages in conversations that overlap, laughing amongst themselves. He does his best to ignore it but it’s difficult not to take notice of each shift TK makes. Michelle keeps looking at him and Carlos, to the best of his abilities, avoids her gaze knowing that it’ll make it just that much more difficult to act as if he isn’t freaking out internally.

“I’m gonna get another. You want anything?” Carlos asks TK.

TK shakes his head. “No, I’m alright but thank you though.”

Carlos nods once and gets up, finding it much easier to breathe already now that he’s no longer sitting beside TK. Michelle catches his eye as he leaves from the table and he can hear her shoes as she follows behind him to the bar. She rests against the counter facing the room at large as Carlos gets the attention of the bartender and asks for another beer.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Michelle laughs at his side.

“Chelle,” he groans, shaking his head.

She merely laughs again, bumping her hip against his. “When did your life become a romantic comedy?”

“I must’ve missed the memo myself because this sure snuck up on me.”

The bartender sets a bottle down in front of him but Carlos doesn’t move. This little reprieve away from everyone but Michelle right now is welcome.

“I like him. He’s nice. Really cute too.”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” he deadpans, looking over his shoulder at TK.

He looks so at home here, hanging out and laughing with these people he’s, up until now, only known secondhand from his father’s work stories. TK is personable as ever, Carlos knows all too well. Had he not been swept away after one night in the man’s company?

“I think this is so great.”

“Funny, I think it’s the universe trying to mess with me.”

Michelle scoffs, finally turning to face the bar like him. “There are worse things in the world than a seemingly perfect guy practically falling into your lap. We should all be so lucky.”

Carlos casts the mental image aside, taking a sip of his drink. “The timing though. I can’t think about guys right now. I need to be figuring out my next set of moves for New York.”

“If those plans just so happen to include an attractive new friend…,” she trails off with a grin.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to screw this up because yeah, he is a new friend and we get along well, it’s a good feeling.”

“Do you like him?”

Carlos falters. “I barely even know the guy.”

“That’s not even remotely close to what I asked you.”

Carlos scratches at his forehead before letting out a sigh. “I do. Which hardly makes any sense at all. It’s only been a few days and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

Michelle shakes her head. “No, actually. I don’t think so. You guys had such a cute introduction to each other and you clearly hit it off. Some people just click and are meant to meet. The fact that you two had a connection to each other beforehand without even knowing it? I think there’s something to be said for that.”

“What, you think it’s fate or something?”

Michelle shrugs. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Your flight could have been a day earlier or even a few hours before his. On a plane filled with hundreds, you connected with him, Captain Strand’s son who just so happens to live in the city you’re about to move to. I think it’s worth seeing just how far it could go. If you ask me, you’ll wind up with a boyfriend in no time.”

Carlos mulls it over for a moment. He can admit he is in fact curious. It’s been a while since he’s felt this drawn to someone and with TK, it’s been as natural as breathing since they first met. The timing is less than ideal but it’s been so long since Carlos has felt this urge to get close to someone, since he’s felt safe enough to even open his mind and heart up to the possibility.

“Maybe you’re onto something.”

“One of these days you’ll learn to just accept my brilliance, no questions asked. But this will do for now.”

Carlos rolls his eyes but drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side and kissing her temple.

“I’m going moments like this with you,” he says.

Michelle sighs and pats his back. “I will too but we still have time on the clock, right? Let’s not think about that now.”

Carlos sighs, knowing she’s right. It just feels as if these moments are slipping through his fingers, the new year and all its changes lurking just around the corner.

~*~*~

As customary, the Ryder house is the staple for parties among the team and New Year’s Eve is no different. Carlos has lost track of how many times he’s sat on their couch or been treated for Grace’s incredible home-cooking. It’s always been a source of comfort for him, being surrounded by these colleagues who have become an extended family to him.

This time next year, he’ll be in another time zone, familiarized with a new group of people. Carlos knows he’s jumping the gun. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll be able to visit back home and that this collection of people will still love him as they do now.

Carlos looks around the living room, taking stock: Marjan blowing into a noise maker in Mateo’s face and bursting into laughter, Paul shaking his head and dropping his face into his palm. Over by the kitchen he sees Grace and Judd swaying to the music playing as Captain Strand takes Michelle’s hand and begins dancing alongside the other couple. It warms Carlos’ heart and breaks it too, seeing this all for what will be the last time with this city being home.

Suddenly the room feels too small and he finds himself heading for the door, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack. It’s cold out but Carlos remembers just how bitter the weather in New York was. This is nothing compared to that. And it’s this thought that twists at his heart a bit more, one more reminder of how much his life is set to change sooner than he thinks he’s ready for.

The new year is biting at his heels and time is just slipping by. Logically he knows that he shouldn’t be outside now, that he would be wise to savor these memories with his Austin crew while they’re here rather than lament later. But it all feels like too much and the last thing he wants is to let his pensive mood be a dark cloud over a celebratory and joyous time.

Carlos keeps walking until he reaches the park nearby the Ryder household. Naturally it’s abandoned as everyone is tucked away inside their homes either enjoying a quiet night in or throwing parties like the Ryders. Carlos draws in a breath and takes a seat on one of the swings, his fingers clutching on to the links. He quickly stands up the second he hears footsteps approaching, a figure walking towards him.

“It’s just me,” comes TK’s voice and sure enough the man’s features come into focus the closer he gets until he’s settling into the swing beside Carlos.

“I saw you take off. I just wanted to check that you were okay.”

Carlos smiles a bit. “I appreciate it. I’m okay. I’m just...thinking about a lot right now.”

TK sways on his swing, letting a comfortable silence fall between them before he speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Carlos’ heart and thoughts feel so heavy now, such a contrast to how lighthearted and hopeful this holiday is meant to be. But TK looks at him with such genuine care that he finds himself almost desperate to unburden himself a bit.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stop time, you know? But hell, it’s New Year’s Eve. What more proof do I need that life is always moving forward?”

Carlos sighs and rocks slightly back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a downer. You should head on back inside, have fun with the others.”

TK is silent beside him, long enough for Carlos to pull his gaze toward the other man. TK is eyeing him thoughtfully.

“You’re scared about what comes next. That’s totally normal. Moving away, starting a new life somewhere else, it’s a big step. A huge change.”

Carlos frowns as he nods. “I wish I could see the end, you know? I wish I could see if it’s all worth it, that I’m making the right choice.”

TK hums in thought. “Well, the best way out is through, right?”

“So you don’t think it’s a mistake to move out to New York?”

TK shrugs. “I don’t know you well enough to say one way or the other for sure. But no, I don’t think it is. I think the fact that you’re even considering it at all should tell you something about how you feel about where you are now.”

Carlos grows quiet, considering the man’s words. But TK isn’t done dishing out his opinion.

“You’ve got an amazing team here, there’s no denying that. It’s a real family, not to mention your actual family is here too. But—and mind you I’m super biased here— New York is an amazing place to be, to live. If you’re feeling restless in Austin, I think New York is the perfect alternative.”

Carlos laughs at this. “So, so biased,” he muses.

TK jokingly puffs up his chest. “Hey, it’s not my fault people have written songs about it and flock to it from all corners of the world,” he jokes. “And all of them, like you would, find home.”

A soft sigh escapes Carlos’ lips as he grips the chain link of the swing.

“That does actually sound pretty nice. I’d miss everyone here like crazy but maybe it’s time for something new? I don’t know. I keep waiting for something extraordinary to happen but nothing ever really changes around here. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I just—“

“You’ve outgrown it,” TK says simply. “And there’s nothing wrong with that either.”

Carlos smiles at him and nods. “I suppose not, no.”

“At least you’ll come to the city knowing someone; you won’t be alone or completely starting from scratch.”

“You? You would take that on?”

TK rolls his eyes. “Of course me. You think I’d leave you high and dry? Damn, I know New Yorkers have a bit of a rep but jeez,” he teases.

Carlos laughs. “I only meant...you barely even know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Maybe so but I’d like to get to know you better. And if we’re gonna be calling the same city home, it’s kind of perfect. You get a new job, a new city, a new friend. Pretty sweet package, if you ask me.”

“You’ll be my tour guide then? You can take me to all the hot spots, Central Park and Times Square for starters.”

TK shakes his head in dismay. “God, Times Square,” he groans. “Hell on earth but sure, just for you I’d make the exception.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos says, placing a hand over his heart.

“As you should be. There aren’t many reasons I’d willingly go there so you should be patting yourself on the back right now.”

Carlos raises a brow. “But you’re thinking I’d be worth it?”

TK’s face grows serious. “In a lot of ways I’m thinking you would be, yes.”

Carlos' face flushes a bit and he looks away, down at his feet as he begins to kick out in earnest to start swinging.

Not for the first time since meeting TK he isn’t sure if there’s more to his words just below the surface, if he’s flirting or just being naturally charismatic. It shouldn’t matter either way, Carlos tells himself. Starting up a new relationship when so much in his life is already about to change doesn’t seem smart.

And yet it’s difficult to bear that in mind when he looks over and sees that TK is still watching him. The man smiles softly and follows Carlos' lead, swinging a bit.

In the distance Carlos can hear the rise in voices from houses where everyone is celebrating, just waiting to usher in the new year.

“One minute to go,” TK says, looking at the time on his watch and digging his feet into the ground to stop himself.

Carlos keeps going, breathing in the last dregs of this year before it’s gone with the tick of the clock. He looks up at the pinpricks of stars above, almost glistening in the clear sky. He closes his eyes, soaks in the moment, the last few seconds of this year winding down.

The New Years party goers can be heard shouting their countdown and beside him, TK joins in quietly as well.

10

9

8

7

Carlos opens his eyes once more and holds his breath as he upward, counting down the last few seconds in his head. This year is going, going...

3

2

1

Gone.

He exhales as shouts from the neighboring houses rent the air. He stops swinging then, digging his feet into the hard earth beneath him as he looks over at TK. Beside him the man’s face is flushed, the tip of his nose pink from the cold but his gaze is unrelenting as he leans forward.

Carlos’ body seems to move on its own accord, closing the distance between them as well. He doesn’t think about anything other than what TK’s lips will feel like and before he realizes it, he’s getting his answer.

It’s a chaste kiss, truly just a meeting of mouths in a gentle press but it warms Carlos from the center all the way through his entire body. TK’s lips are soft and warm despite the cold.

“Happy New Year, Carlos,” TK says softly.

Carlos doesn’t have the slightest clue of what the road ahead will look like exactly but it’s enough to know that in some capacity, TK is going to be a part of it. Be it as a friend or something more, it makes Carlos hopeful to see how life will unfold, what other surprises it may have in store.

Carlos stares at him for a moment and it seems as if TK and the whole world is holding its breath as they sit in silence together. This feeling in his chest is so unlike anything Carlos has experienced before. He likes to think things through, to anticipate at least three steps ahead but his future is such a blank slate that it’s truly anyone’s guess as to what will happen next. All he can do is control this present moment and as Carlos sees it, kissing TK is the only thing on his agenda for right now.

He leans in again and kisses the man once more, deeply this time, hand cradling the back of TK’s neck.

Maybe this is risky, maybe this will only complicate his life further when he settles in New York and has to figure out what this all means. But in this moment, that all feels like a lifetime away, a page from a chapter that hasn’t been written yet. There’s only the here and now with this beautiful man that fills him with possibilities.

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

think of all the fun i´ve missed (think of all the fellas that i haven’t kissed)

-

merry (early) christmas @leifdonnellies! i was your secret santa and i had a lot of fun writing this fic for you :D i hope you enjoy it and have a great holiday season! (the title is from santa baby and really doesn’t fit with the fic all that well but i thought it was funny...)

-

Tobin Batra knew every word in the English dictionary, and yet he still didn’t know the right words to describe the chaos that was SPRQ Point holiday parties. 

After going to one for this first time, Tobin immediately knew why STEM kids and queer kids were never the people throwing parties in high school. When you combined those groups into the group that was the fourth floor of SPRQ Point, the result was a drunken mess of a gathering. 

The floor was cleared off as it would be for any business-related gala, but instead of tasteful lighting and tech speeches, there were tacky Christmas lights strung up and shitty music blasting from every speaker. 

And yet, Tobin loved them. He loved his oddball group of friends and colleagues, and it was fun to hang out with them without any pressure of deadlines and CEO visits, and instead just a week-long break to look forward to. At recent parties, Zoey’s DJ friend Mo provided the music, and he did have objectively better music taste than anyone else there. Tobin liked Mo, and liked getting to chat with him at parties, mostly about music and queer stuff. Another plus of parties was seeing who gave the most outrageous white elephant gifts- Tobin was currently winning that competition ever since he gifted Max a live chinchilla a year ago. (Max still had the chinchilla. He named it Joan after their former boss, and it was beloved by everyone.) Yet another great thing about it was that it was the one night that they finally could replace the bread bar or oatmeal bar or whatever bar with an open bar, because apparently it was legal if it was for a party. But Tobin’s favorite thing about the holiday parties was the fact that it was the one night a year that his boyfriend let Tobin kiss him in front of their colleagues. 

Leif was surprisingly shy about PDA, and had been as long as Tobin had known him. His parents weren’t exactly the most touchy-feely people, with each other or with their children, and it had clearly rubbed off on Leif. Tobin was fine with this, of course, he’d never want to make his boyfriend uncomfortable. Plus the two lived together, and Leif was incredibly touch starved at home, so it wasn’t really a big deal that they never did more than very occasionally hold hands at work. That being said, Tobin discovered recently that Leif found it “morally wrong”- Leif’s words, not Tobin’s- to disobey the laws of mistletoe, and he planned to fully exploit that fact at the party.

Mistletoe was a big thing at these parties- because obviously it was, what chaotic Christmas party was complete without a tiny, slightly-poisonous plant that required you to kiss whoever’s nearest to you if you found yourself under it? When they arrived at the party, Tobin snatched a cluster of mistletoe that was hanging right outside the elevators. He figured that was a fair place to steal it from, because as much as he loved the tradition, it was a bit of a cruel place to hang it, catching people off guard like that. Leif glanced over and saw him grab it, but just rolled his eyes as Tobin winked at him and smirked. 

“Hey guys!” Zoey greeted as they joined the group. “You can put your gifts over there…” She pointed to a small pile before glancing at the package in Tobin’s arms with concern. “I do not want to know what’s in there this year.” 

Tobin smiled wide. “Well, I tried hard to top Joan the chinchilla, but I think it was my peak.” 

Leif and Zoey rolled their eyes in unison as Leif gave Tobin a shove towards the stack of gifts. 

Tobin soon joined the rest of the party, dragging Leif with him and forcing him to dance to the loud music with him. As per usual, Mo had created a killer playlist, albeit a bit of a weird conglomeration of songs. Any playlist that went from a stunning, slow cover of Someday At Christmas (that seemed to have been sung by the DJ himself) immediately into the original version of Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer had to be made by someone at least a little bit high. 

About an hour into the party, Tobin could tell that Leif was getting overwhelmed by all the people and the sounds, so he silently took his hand and pulled him into the nest. 

“Thanks,” Leif said once they were out of earshot of others. He rubbed his neck awkwardly as he sat down on the conference table. “Sorry, I don’t know what was happening back there, I’ve been better with social stuff for a while, I guess it just… I dunno… it’s still hard sometimes.”

“Bro, it’s okay, I get it. You never need to apologize about anxiety stuff. And it’s not going to be all better, all the time, and that’s okay. You’ve been doing so good lately, Leif, and you deserve to celebrate that.” Tobin sat next to Leif and put his hand over Leif’s. 

Leif turned to him and smiled softly. “Thank you, babe.” 

Tobin lay his head on Leif’s shoulder and began rubbing gentle circles on Leif’s hand with his thumb. “You’re welcome.” 

Neither man spoke for a few minutes, and Tobin could hear Leif doing some deep breathing, something he often did as a way to calm his anxiety. 

Eventually, when Leif seemed to have fully relaxed, he turned towards Tobin and smiled at him again. “Have I mentioned that you look really nice tonight?” 

Tobin laughed. “A few times. But you can tell me again.”

“Well you do. Really nice.” 

Leif leaned forward and kissed Tobin, and Tobin counted it a win that his boyfriend kissed him at work with no mistletoe involved. 

Tobin pulled away much sooner than he wanted to, because they were still at a party after all. “Hey, you ready to go back?”

Leif squeezed his hand before standing up. “Yeah. I think so.”

  The two of them left the conference room, and only got a few strange looks from the other party-goers as they made their way back to the group. 

“There you are!” Zoey said as she and Simon made their way over. “We were waiting for you to start gifts.” 

The next half-hour was spent in a flurry of white elephant chaos, filled with plenty of cursing and sighing and coming close to tears begging someone to please steal their gift because they don’t even play an instrument, why do they need sheet music for the wii theme?! Although none of the gifts came close to the glory of Tobin’s chinchilla, it was unanimously decided that Leif won this year’s most outrageous gift with the collection of small cowboy hats that Simon ended up with (something Simon was weirdly pleased with receiving.) Tobin had pouted about this decision, seeing as the hats had originally been his idea, but his boyfriend looked so pleased about winning such a stupid contest that Tobin let him take the win without too much complaining. 

It was getting late, and the party would likely be wearing to a close soon. People were still dancing, however- Leif being one of them. He and Zoey and Simon were in the middle of the floor, moving in a way that they must have considered “dancing” (but was really just a weird movement of limbs all over the place). 

The red and green lights were reflecting in Leif’s hair, making the blond curls glow in a way that could only be described as magical. His suit jacket had been abandoned at some point in the evening, so he was wearing only a deep red short sleeve dress shirt with a green vest over it. Despite the cliche color scheme, the outfit looked great on Leif. Tobin watched as Leif threw his head back in laughter at something Simon said, and felt a weird flutter in his heart at the sight. Even after nearly two years of dating Leif, and nearly twelve years of being in love with him, the other man never failed to make Tobin feel like he was fifteen again, looking over at the boy playing video games on the couch next to him, and being hit with a rush of feelings so sudden and so strong that Tobin thought he was dying. 

Tobin moved suddenly from where he’d been standing next to George, asking his friend to hold his drink for a moment. He joined Leif on the dance floor right as Santa Baby faded out (the dance moves done for that song did not bear repeating, to say the least), and faintly processed Mo announcing that their final song of the night was White Christmas because it had just started snowing in San Francisco, so of course it was. 

“Hey.” Tobin announced his presence as he sidled up next to Leif, swaying slightly to the melody. 

“Hi!” Leif turned around so quickly that he needed to steady himself by grabbing on to Tobin’s waist (nothing Tobin was complaining about), his face flushed from dancing. 

“Care to dance?” Tobin put his arms up and around Leif’s shoulders, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Zoey and Simon had begun to slow dance away from them, seemingly lost in each other. 

Leif just smiled in response and began leading Tobin slowly around the floor. Neither one of them were particularly great at dancing, but it didn’t matter. As Tobin heard the song drawing to a close, he fumbled in his jacket pocket for the mistletoe he had grabbed earlier. Upon finding it, he raised his arm above both him and Leif’s heads so that the mistletoe hung above them.

“Hey L.” Tobin said to get his boyfriend’s attention, because he’d somehow not noticed the commotion.

“Yeah?”

“Look up.” Tobin smirked.

Leif did so and immediately rolled his eyes and blushed.

“Well?” Tobin knew he was being obnoxious but didn’t care. “I seem to recall someone here saying that it was wrong to not follow the rules of mistletoe. Are you really gonna go back on your word now-”

Leif shut Tobin up by kissing him. 

Tobin smiled into the kiss, moving his non-mistletoe hand to cradle Leif’s face. People were probably staring at them, but he didn’t care. It’s not like no one knew they were together. 

Leif pulled back after a minute, slapping the mistletoe with indignance until Tobin lowered his arm. Their faces were still close, foreheads resting together.

“Merry Christmas Tobes.” 

Tobin gave Leif another quick kiss and smiled at him. “Merry Christmas Leif.” 

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Four

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Four

Clary, it turned out, was very good at Land Mines. But so was Izzy. It only took a couple rounds for them to admit they played the game all the time, and a couple more rounds (both of which the Lightwoods lost) for Izzy to drunkenly (and loudly) explain that she thought it was hot when Clary got competitive.

Jace told her he didn’t want to hear about it, and he hoped he wasn’t tipsy enough for her to notice what a hypocrite he was in saying it. Because competitive Simon? Was so hot. And Simon was pretty much hot all the time, even when he was annoying the hell out of Jace, but Simon going all-out trying to prove himself, and doing it every damned time, was something else. It didn’t help that right now he was doing it dressed in a tighter than usual t-shirt that proclaimed him a “Jedi in the streets, Sith in the sheets” that Clary (who most definitely noticed Jace’s appreciation of how tight the shirt was) gleefully informed Jace had been a present from her.

“Another win for Team Fray-Lewis,” Simon proclaimed as his coin spun to a stop without touching any of the glasses on the table. He and Clary bumped fists without even looking at each other, and Simon flashed Jace a smug grin that did things to him. “Let’s see you top that, hotshot.”

Jace returned a cocky grin of his own. “You should know better by now than to question my skills.”

Thankfully for Jace’s ego, and his liver, his own spin came tumbling to rest right before hitting a double-size shot glass of tequila. The same shot glass Clary’s coin hit moments later.

Clary winced. “Sorry, Si.”

“All right,” Simon said, narrowing his eyes. “All right.” He downed his shot and licked the excess from his lips in a way that Jace found very distracting. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Simon was doing it on purpose. “We’ve still got this.”

“Damn right we do,” Clary agreed, knocking back her own shot and then grabbing Izzy for a messy kiss. “A kiss for luck,” she announced.

“I’m not even on your team, silly,” Izzy giggled.

By the time they finished the game, Jace and Izzy having only just squeaked by with a win, the party was in full swing, and Jace was feeling pleasantly buzzed. With several hours left to go until midnight, he decided to pass on the cocktail Magnus offered him in favor of plain soda. As much as he’d joked about hangovers, that was the last way he wanted to start the new year, especially since he had plans with Alec and Magnus the next day, and they both seemed to be somehow magically immune to hangovers.

Jace let himself get swept up in the atmosphere of the party: dancing, joking with his siblings, getting into an inane argument with Magnus’s friend Ragnor about which of Scott Joplin’s works was most influential. And somehow, he always managed to find himself back by Simon’s side. He should have been doing it as part of keeping up the appearance of being his boyfriend, but it was less that he was intentionally trying to spend time around Simon and more that he was allowing himself not to not be around Simon. The realization should have annoyed him, but somehow it didn’t.

Especially since Simon seemed just as drawn to his side. Which was probably Simon keeping up appearances, since he’d proven himself to be incredibly good at it so far. It was almost comfortable. Right up until it was something else entirely.

Jace and Simon had been chatting with Dot—a friend of Magnus’s who’d apparently been a neighbor of Clary’s and Simon’s when they were kids—when Clary, who had clearly not stopped drinking after their game, interrupted by throwing her arms over Jace and Dot’s shoulders. “You guys should come dance with me,” she told them. “Izzy’s busy talking to Magnus about shoes, and I wanna dance, and you guys are like three of my very favorite people who aren’t Izzy, so I want you to dance with me.”

“Of course,” Dot laughed, wrapping an arm around Clary’s waist and twirling her toward the makeshift dance floor Magnus and Alec had made in their living room.

“You guys, come on!” Clary called over her shoulder, tripping and nearly falling before Dot caught her and turned it into a shaky dip.

Simon looked at Jace and offered his hand. “There’s really no point in arguing. She’s even more stubborn drunk than she is sober.”

“That’s a terrifying thought,” Jace said, taking Simon’s hand and following him onto the dance floor.

Jace lost track of how long they spent dancing, first with Clary and Dot, switching partners every few minutes at Clary’s enthusiastic insistence, and then just with each other after Izzy reappeared and Clary abandoned them to go cling to her girlfriend like some kind of hyper-affectionate koala.

“I honestly can’t believe she’s still standing,” Simon said. “She’s had at least three margaritas since we finished our game, and I didn’t even want to think about drinking after that many shots.”

“She was probably consoling herself after you guys lost so badly,” Jace said, moving closer than the music or space strictly demanded. “I wouldn’t know what it’s like, but losing sure seems like it would suck.”

“Uh huh,” Simon said. “Because you winning by a single shot was so very impressive.”

“It really was,” Jace agreed.

The music made a surprisingly smooth transition from pounding bass to Duke Ellington, and Simon grabbed Jace’s hand to pull him into some kind of swing dance that Jace was not at all familiar with.

“Really?” Simon asked with obvious relish. “You don’t know how to Lindy Hop?”

“I’m not an old man or terminally nerdy, so no,” Jace answered, not quite managing to follow Simon’s steps, but not making a complete fool out of himself either. He supposed that was one good thing to come out of that ridiculous mandatory high school PE swing dance unit.

“So, are you calling Magnus old or a nerd?” Simon asked, nodding to the other side of the dance floor, where Magnus was twirling Dot like they were both professional dancers.

“Magnus is a special case,” Jace said.

“Because your brother would murder you in your sleep for saying anything bad about him?” Simon suggested.

Jace snorted a laugh. “I plead the fifth.”

“You know what I think?” Simon asked, doing a rock-step then smoothly maneuvering Jace into a gentle twirl.

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Jace said.

“I think you just don’t know how to deal with not being good at something. So you’re an ass about anything you aren’t good at.”

“Nah,” Jace said, attempting to mimic Simon’s earlier move and managing to awkwardly spin him into a twirl of his own. “You just always react so well when I’m an ass to you that I can’t resist doing it.”

“Ah, got it. So you’re basically saying you never matured past middle school.”

“You’re one to talk about maturity. Do I need to remind you that the first thing you did when I introduced you to my sister was ask to see her Lego collection?”

“In my defense,” Simon said, “I was trying to save us all from probable food poisoning.” He executed another twirl, this time one that ended with his arms wrapped around Jace from behind, which Jace definitely felt no way at all about. “Also, it was a really great Lego collection.”

The music changed again, back to a modern club beat, and Jace felt some of the tension leave his body. This was the kind of music he knew how to dance to. And maybe there was just the tiniest bit of truth to what Simon had said about him not knowing how to be bad at things.

It was just natural and not at all pettiness over Simon being right that had him rolling his hips with the beat of the new song, which just consequently happened to grind his ass back against Simon’s crotch. And, okay, there was maybe just the tiniest bit of satisfaction in hearing Simon’s sharp intake of breath.

“Just try not to do that when someone you’re actually dating brings you home for the first time.”

Jace wasn’t entirely sure how to identify what he felt when Simon leaned forward to speak directly in his ear. “And what do you think I should have done?” Simon’s breath was hot against his skin. “If we were actually dating?”

Jace spun around to face him. “If we were actually dating, Alec would have been on his own defending dinner from Izzy, because I wouldn’t have taken you back downstairs until I was done very thoroughly showing you my bedroom.”

It came out sounding much less like a joke than he intended, the truth behind his words bleeding through his shaky bravado. And he knew Simon heard it, could see it in the soft surprise of his parted lips, could feel it in the faint tremor of the hand he still held.

“I guess,” Simon said, tongue darting out to wet his lips, drawing Jace’s eyes, “it’s a good thing for our digestive systems that we weren’t actually dating.”

This had been a mistake. Dancing with Simon like this, touching him like this. Inviting him to the party in the first place. This whole damned fake dating plan. Jace wanted desperately to lean in and trace the path of Simon’s tongue with his own.

“I don’t know,” he said instead. “I think it probably would have been worth it.”

They weren’t even pretending to dance now, Simon standing stock still, watching him as if trying to puzzle him out. Finally, he took a step back, loosening his hold. “Jace—”

“Attention, dearest friends and tolerated acquaintances!” Magnus’s voice rang through the loft as the music came to a sudden halt. Jace stayed as he was, unwilling to bring himself to let go of Simon entirely, unable to look away, and Simon seemingly similarly caught.

“We have invited you here this evening to help us ring in the new year, which, if you direct your attention to the clock right over there, you will see is now a mere thirty seconds away. So, grab your drink, grab your sweetie—or an attractive stranger, I won’t judge—and get ready to count down to a brand new year!”

Jace barely noticed as the countdown began around him, focused as he was on Simon. He only really caught on to what was happening when Simon’s lips began to move, softly counting down with the crowd even as his eyes never left Jace’s.

Jace had plenty of time to think through what he was about to do, with enough left over to second- and third-guess himself. Some people might have said thirty seconds wasn’t long enough to make a reasoned choice, but for someone like Jace, who made an art out of making impulsive, split-second decisions, thirty seconds was practically an eternity. He watched Simon’s lips form the final count of “one,” heard the crowd around them erupt into shouts of “Happy New Year!” and then he was surging forward.

Simon met him halfway, the kiss bruising and desperate. Jace was dimly aware of people around him laughing and cheering, but his entire world was narrowed down to this one moment, to this kiss. If their previous kisses had been chaste and family-appropriate, this was anything but. Simon kissed like he wanted to crawl inside Jace, one hand on the small of his back, pulling him close, the other tangled in his hair. Jace kind of wanted Simon to crawl inside him.

When Simon finally broke the kiss, Jace had to hold himself back from chasing his swollen, spit-slick lips. But whatever Simon saw when he looked at Jace had him muttering a soft “shit” before diving back in for more, so Jace considered it an all-around win.

Jace licked into Simon’s mouth, sliding the fingers of one hand under the hem of his shirt enough to trace along the waistband of his jeans, just above his hip. Simon shuddered and made a soft, desperate sound, and Jace made it his mission to elicit more of those sounds, to drive Simon just as crazy as those sounds were driving him.

When they broke the kiss for the second time, it was prompted by a sharp whistle that Jace would have recognized anywhere as Izzy’s followed by a cheer of, “Yeah, get it, Simon!” from Clary.

Simon looked slightly embarrassed at just how carried away they’d managed to get in the middle of a party, but Jace just smirked and threw a wink at his sister and her girlfriend.

A quick look around showed that, despite Izzy and Clary’s very loud attention, most of the partygoers were too involved in their own celebrations to be paying much attention to Jace and Simon, although it also seemed like the rest of them had long since finished up their celebratory kisses. The only other people paying them any attention at all were Magnus and Alec, who were standing nearby.

Alec wore the look of long-suffering fondness he often wore around Jace. “Please don’t have sex in my living room,” he said when he caught Jace’s eye.

“We weren’t—” Simon spluttered. “We wouldn’t—”

“At least use the guest room like civilized people,” Magnus added. Much less fondly, Jace thought.

“Oh god,” Simon muttered as Magnus swept off to speak with other guests, Alec in tow. “I’m never going to live this down. Fray is going to be teasing me about this until the day I die. And I think your brother hates me now.”

“Alec doesn’t hate you,” Jace said. “You would know if Alec hated you; he is not subtle. I’m sure he considers this one-hundred percent my fault.”

“Okay, but Magnus definitely hates me.”

“Dude,” Jace said, squeezing Simon’s shoulder, “Magnus doesn’t hate you, either. He wouldn’t have offered us his guest room if he hated you.”

Simon gave him a flat look. “Pretty sure he didn’t actually intend for us to use the guest room. We’d have to have basically no shame to just ditch the party and run off to the guest room to have sex after Clary and Izzy drew so much attention to us making out like horny teenagers in public.”

“You’ve known me how long, and you still operate under the misapprehension that I’m capable of shame?” Jace teased.

Except. Except he was only half-teasing, because he would absolutely ditch this party to go have sex with Simon in the guest room if he thought Simon was even a little bit interested in that. Hell, he’d ditch the party to have sex with Simon in the fucking closet.

And he was pretty sure Simon knew it, because Simon was staring at him again, with that same intensity he had right before they’d kissed. Jace smirked and very deliberately ran a tongue over his lower lip.

“I hate you,” Simon said without heat before dragging Jace into a quick, filthy kiss. “Where’s the guest room?”

Jace didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the hallway that led to the guest suite.

It took them several minutes to actually make it into the guest room because Jace decided halfway there that he kind of desperately needed to be kissing Simon again. It was like a dam had broken, and now that he was allowed to kiss Simon, really kiss him, he couldn’t seem to stop. But that was okay, because Simon didn’t seem interested in stopping, either.

When they finally stumbled into the guest room, Jace found himself promptly pinned against the door, Simon’s body pressing against him in a long, hard line, a situation which Jace found himself more than okay with.

“This,” Simon muttered between kisses, “is probably a terrible idea.”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, sliding one leg between Simon’s leg to press against the bulge in his jeans and trying to ignore the bitter twist in his gut. “You want to stop?”

“Fuck,” Simon panted, grinding against Jace’s leg. “Really no.” He slid his hands beneath Jace’s shirt, pushing it up in a clear indication he wanted it off. “Just making sure we’re both on the same page with regard to our mutual terrible decision making.”

“You know me,” Jace said, raising his arms obligingly and helping Simon tug his shirt over his head. “Making terrible decisions with pretty people is kind of my thing.”

Jace’s shirt fell to the floor, and Simon just sort of froze for a second before reaching out and sliding his hands up Jace’s chest almost reverently. “God,” he muttered, “you are just unfairly hot.” His hands stilled suddenly, and he met Jace’s eyes, brows furrowed. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Yes, dumbass,” Jace said, reaching up to cup Simon’s face. “Did the last ten minutes not clue you in?”

“I—”

Jace silenced whatever Simon was about to say with another kiss. With as much as he was feeling right now, kissing was safer than talking. He’d probably said too much already.

He flipped them around so he was pressing Simon into the door, breaking the kiss just long enough to say, “Oh, hey, I found an effective way to make you stop talking. Should have thought of this sooner.”

“Fuck you,” Simon mumbled against his mouth.

“Maybe later,” Jace told him, tugging at Simon’s belt. “Right now I just need to get my hands on you.”

“Yeah,” Simon agreed dazedly as Jace worked open his jeans. “Yeah, okay, that sounds really—” He broke off with an almost wounded noise as Jace reached inside his boxers and wrapped a hand around his cock.

Jace kissed him again, slow and deliberate just like the hand on Simon’s cock. Jace felt back on firmer ground, now. This, sex, was something he understood, something he was good at. Slick tongues and writhing bodies were far more straightforward—far less dangerous—than feelings.

For a few strokes, Simon seemed content to just take what Jace was giving him, but then he was kissing back with almost bruising intensity and fumbling open Jace’s pants to wrap a calloused hand around his dick, and it was everything.

Jace lost track of things at that point, lost in the feel of Simon’s deft fingers around his cock, of Simon thrusting into his hand, of Simon’s mouth on his own, of Simon. And then Simon was murmuring something unintelligible against Jace’s mouth as the movement of his hips became erratic and then he was shaking apart in Jace’s arms, coming all over his hand and abdomen, and Jace thought, as he followed Simon over the edge seconds later, it might have been the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.

“Holy shit,” Simon said after they’d both caught their breath. “That actually just happened.”

Jace let out a soft huff of laughter. “You noticed, huh?” He stepped back just enough that he could see Simon’s face and was dismayed at the wariness he found there.

“I guess,” Simon said, “I should probably get cleaned up and, like. Go?”

There was a pit forming in Jace’s stomach, and he hated it.

“Alternate plan,” he offered with far more assurance than he felt. “We both get cleaned up, and then we find out how nice the sheets are on Alec and Magnus’s guest bed. I was planning to sleep here tonight anyway.” Whatever this was, Jace wasn’t ready for it to end yet.

“Oh,” Simon said on a heavy exhale. “That’s—” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to, like, intrude, or—”

He broke off as Jace took his hand, the one covered in come, and slowly and deliberately began licking it clean, eyes never leaving Simon’s. Simon watched, entranced, barely breathing.

When Jace was satisfied he’d gotten every drop, he smirked up through lowered lashes. “Simon. Come to bed with me?”

“Yeah,” Simon said breathily. “Okay. But if Magnus decides he hates me, I’m blaming you.”

“Do me a favor, and don’t talk about my future brother-in-law when I just had my hand down your pants.” Then, because it had proven such an effective way to get Simon to stop talking in the past (and definitely not for any other reason), Jace kissed him.

By the time they’d finished cleaning up and tumbled into bed, Jace was feeling loose and sleepy. He abandoned his previous, half-formed plans of getting Simon’s dick in his mouth in favor of lazy, unhurried kisses and caresses that were maybe too gentle for what this was. There would be time for blowjobs later. In the morning, maybe. After sleep, in any case.

Jace wasn’t aware of when kissing Simon in reality bled into dream.

~~~

Jace wasn’t hungover when he woke. He kind of wished he were hungover, because that would provide an explanation for why the world didn’t seem quite set straight and he felt vaguely nauseous that had nothing to do with the cold, empty bed he woke up in.

It was stupid to be upset Simon hadn’t stayed. Jace knew it was stupid. He’d known going in that it wouldn’t be more than a one-time thing. Simon had flat-out said it was a mistake. But there was a part of him that had thought—had hoped—maybe Simon would change his mind.

Telling himself he was just upset over having lost the chance for that morning blowjob he’d been planning, Jace forced himself out of bed and into the shower. The shower in Alec and Magnus’s guest suite was kind of amazing, with one of those rainfall shower heads and hot water that just never seemed to end. It helped ease some of Jace’s tension, and by the time he finished showering and pulled on some clothes, he was feeling almost back to his normal self.

Alec greeted him as he stepped out into the living room, already having claimed a spot on the couch. The room was back to its normal configuration, couch and loveseat facing a large, flat-screen TV. The coffee table held a giant plate of nachos, a bag of dry roast peanuts, and a disgustingly large tub of Red Vines.

“Welcome to the land of the living,” Alec said. “I was starting to worry you were going to miss the opening kick.”

“Please,” Jace said, flopping down onto the other couch. “I haven’t missed the opening kick of a bowl game since I was eleven, and that was only because you gave me the stomach flu.”

“Don’t blame me for that!” Alec protested. “Izzy was the one who started barfing first. If anyone brought that into the house, it was her.”

“Izzy didn’t give me big, sad puppy dog eyes and ask me to hold her hair back.”

“Hey,” Alec said, “we don’t talk about the hair, okay? Everyone makes at least one big mistake in their life, and mine was my seventh grade Zac Efron hair.”

“It’s my duty as your brother to make sure you never forget any terrible fashion choices you’ve made,” Jace said around a mouthful of nachos.

“You know that means it’s my duty as a brother to do the same for you, right?”

“You can try,” Jace said breezily, “but you and I both know I’ve never made any terrible fashion choices.”

“Two words for you,” Alec said. “Parachute pants.”

“They were on trend at the time,” Jace insisted. “My parachute pants were cool.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Jace. Parachute pants were never cool.”

Jace decided to be mature about the whole thing and chucked a Red Vine at Alec’s head. Alec ducked, then picked up the Red Vine from where it had landed on his shoulder and popped it into his mouth.

“That’s disgusting,” Jace told him. “I can’t believe you still eat those things.”

“It’s tradition,” Alec said with a shrug. “I only eat them on New Year’s. Besides, I like the sweetened wax aesthetic they’ve got going on.”

“Disgusting,” Jace repeated, pulling a Red Vine out of the tub for himself.

“Hey,” Alec said, suddenly serious, “you didn’t have to stay, you know.” When Jace just stared at him in confusion, he added, “You could have gone to Simon’s family thing with him. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Jace scoffed. “Of course I couldn’t.” He hadn’t even known Simon had a family thing today. “It’s tradition, like the Red Vines. Just because I’m dating someone and you’re about to get married doesn’t mean I’m going to flake on our New Year’s tradition.”

“Well, you should probably be prepared to make it up to your man when you get home,” Alec said. “He looked kinda upset when he left this morning.”

Jace’s earlier nausea returned suddenly, with full force. “He did?”

“Oh, don’t look like that. I’m sure he’ll get over it. The guy clearly adores you.”

“Yeah,” Jace said, pasting on a smile. “He does.”

“And I am glad you’re here,” Alec added. “I love Magnus, but he doesn’t understand football.”

“Not a fan, huh?”

“Worse,” Alec groaned. “He’s a Big Red fan. And he always gets so smug when they win.”

“And you’re sure you want to marry this guy?” Jace joked.

“Yeah,” Alec said, his whole demeanor softening. “I really am.”

“Which is a good thing, because our catering deposit is definitely non-refundable,” Magnus interjected, bringing a wings-laded plate to join the rest of the snacks on the table. “Besides, if I can get over the fact that you actually attended Columbia, you can deal with my allegiance to the clearly superior Ivy League team.”

“I’m not sure you can say you’re over it when you still say ‘Columbia’ like it’s a dirty word,” Alec observed.

“Nonsense,” Magnus said, settling onto the couch next to his fiancé. “I say dirty words with a great deal more relish. That was, in fact, an insult to dirty words.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Alec said, rolling his eyes.

“That, we can agree on.”

“If you two are done being sappy,” Jace said, grabbing the TV remote and unmuting the pre-game commentary, “there’s about to be a game on.”

They were not, it turned out, done being sappy, but their cheerful bickering was almost enough to distract Jace from having woken up alone. Almost.

[bluedemon1995]

28 Free/Harry Potter AU Enjoy!

Silence. That’s all Keith heard for the last few days. He knew he should have swallowed his pride and gone home with the Holts or even Shiro but he didn’t want to be a bother. They each had a family. He knew they needed time with them and he didn’t want to impose. So, he was just here-at Hogwarts. Basically alone, with his fellow classmates who didn’t have anywhere else to go, he spent Christmas wandering the halls feeling sorry for himself.

He knows if it was Pidge she would be busy at the library, studying and getting ahead. Absorbing knowledge. Then there was Hunk who would no doubt have snuck his way into the kitchens with the house elves, regardless of whether they thought he should be there or not! Lance would be trying to sneak into other houses trying to cause havoc and he would guess Matt and Shiro (cuz really when did you find one and not the other?) would have been practicing Quidditch or something. Allura, well, he really wasn’t sure what she’d be doing but he bet she wouldn’t be feeling mopey like him.

Professor McGonagall tried to give him some advice but honestly, what does she know about being alone. He’s always been alone, with no mom, but it especially hit him hard after his dad died. Who wanted a moody pre teen? No one was the short answer. But, honestly, who could blame them?

Instead, he was passing the time by training. His goal was to try to use his defensive and offensive spells concurrently when the Room of Requirement suddenly started changing. He paused, taking a defensive stance when he noticed holiday lights in red and green appearing and garland was strategically being placed around the room. He looked around trying to figure things out when he heard Shiro and Matt yell, “Holiday Fun!”

The room suddenly was filled with fireplaces and blankets, Christmas carols all with tables around the room filled with sweets and hot chocolate. He even thought he spied a chocolate fondue fountain!

His vision wavered for a second but then he saw Matt and Shiro in lighted sweaters and Lance wearing a blue zoom suit. What the hell?

He figured Hunk was here when cookies, cakes and biscuits were strategically appearing around the room. He paused, “What are you guys doing here? Why aren’t you with your families?”

Allura came in wearing a Grinch onesie?!? “Keith, you are our family too. Did you think we wouldn’t celebrate with you? That we wouldn’t be back?”

“Ummmmm, yeah, I guess.”

Shiro reached him first hugging him tight. “Keith, how many times do I have to tell you, you ArE my family, my brother in fact!”

Matt grins, “Yup and I have a feeling we are going to be brother in oof!!! OW, Shiro that ugh.”

Keith stares at both men who are conversing to low to understand, rubbing his neck, he replies, “Uh, okay…”

Hmm, does this mean Matt and Shiro are going to make it official. Speaking of Holts, Keith can’t help but glance around and be disappointed that he doesn’t see Katie…or Pidge. Shaking his head, he tries to shake that thought loose. He shouldn’t be thinking of her that way, she’s almost family. And more importantly she isn’t here. “Sigh.”

The group is trying to tell him what they’ve been up to and what they got for Christmas. When suddenly a door slams open and is kicked shut, everyone turns. In walks Katie Holt, in a dress no less. Keith blinks, trying to determine what he is seeing. Damn. She’s beautiful. She’s wearing a green and black dress that draws attention to her tiny waist and toned body. Fuck he needs to focus! Is the room suddenly warmer??

“Sorry!!! You assholes, why would you leave me to distract James?!? You know, I had to pretend I was sick because he wouldn’t let me be! Then he wanted to carry me back to my room. Ughhhhh, you guys suck!!! Hey Keith, Merry Belated Christmas!!”

Keith finds himself frowning, “Why were you alone with Griffin?”

Pidge frowns at her brother, pointing, “Cuz Tweedle dee and Tweedle Dum thought me in a dress was so weird that James wouldn’t notice where everyone else was heading. We really didn’t want him to find out about this room. Hell, all my games are here and more importantly how would I avoid running if he knew where I disappeared to? And unfortunately they were right. He didn’t want to leave before I gave him a very good excuse.”

Keith found himself somehow standing in front of her. Noticing her pink cheeks and curled hair. Unknowingly he reaches for a curl and brushes it off her cheek, finger tracing her jaw line. He finds himself taking a step even closer. She’s really pretty. Beautiful really. And smart. With wit and cunning. She was great at plans and she understood the value of silence. Hell she was much too good for the likes of him.

But he cannot bring himself to move back. Instead he breathed deeply and could smell her shampoo. He looked down and grinned, “Sick, right?”

She laughed, “Okay, honestly I told him I had cramps because of my period. Ohmygod, let me tell you, that guy turned RED! Definitely didn’t have a sister or girlfriend, hahah!!! After that he couldn’t leave fast enough. And while I hate relying on that stupid excuse,” she shrugged delicately, “but what are you gonna do, it works.”

Hours later…

Everyone seems to be in a food comatose except Katie and him. He hesitantly reaches for her hand, “So, I found your game and have been playing it. It’s pretty cool and I think I’m pretty good. I almost beat your high score!”

Pidge smiles, “No shit. Let’s play since these losers cannot keep up! You know we could be teammates instead of enemies.”

Hours later, Pidge is leaning against his arm, “C’mon bud, you got this!”

Keith continues until he beats he boss man, then he looks down to Pidge, “So, missed me, huh?”

Pidge smiled replying, “Yeah apparently so.”

Keith finished the boss man and looked down at her, “So um, I like being your teammate much better than being your opponent. Um, do you think, you’d like to be partners…like full time?”

Keith held his breath, waiting for her answer.

“Yes.”

That word never sounded so good. Best Christmas Ever.

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 3: Chapter 7

Harry at the BBC, Flicker Sessions & the other side of marriage: August/September 2017    

Word count: 3.4k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

I’m finally back! December really kicked my ass: I moved house, and I’m a manager in retail so christmas is always a nightmare but covid definitely made it worse. Anyway I’m back with another chapter and I’ve got the next few blocked out so hopefully I can get back to semi-regular updates :) Please help this story find new readers by reblogging and commenting.

As summer neared its end, Harry and Aurora travelled north to Manchester where they met up with the rest of the band as well as Jeff and Nick Grimshaw. It was hard for both of them to be back in town for the first time since the funeral, and even harder to be staying in Anne’s house which now felt far too empty without Robin’s infectious laugh and booming voice. They had arrive in town two days before the taping and both Aurora and Harry found themselves immensely grateful for the extensive soundchecks and filming obligations that kept them in town most of the time, only returning to the house in the evenings and turning in for bed relatively early to avoid the uncomfortable atmosphere in the home. On the day of the performance, after all Harry and Nicks segments were filmed and the band was ready to go, the doors were opened, and the small crowd was welcomed into the venue and prepared for the procedures of the taping.

The show was a huge success, with the crowd absolutely loving the entire thing. Aurora found herself unable to hold back her laughter several times while Nick interviewed Harry and she was often grinning as he danced around the stage, revelling in the infectious atmosphere of the crowd. Following the last song, well after the crowd had left and the only ones left inside were the band, Nick Grimshaw and their families, the crew worked on breaking down the set and everyone milled around with drinks in hand. They laughed together, sharing stories and eagerly discussing the upcoming tour. Aurora was tucked up against Harry’s side, his arm thrown comfortably around her shoulders as she lent her head against one of the swallows hidden beneath his shirt. She caught Anne’s eyes across the small group and the two women shared a soft smile as Harry’s booming laughter filled the air. In that moment she felt that despite the pain still felt in Robin’s absence, at the end of the day Anne was going to be ok. Both Harry and Rori had worried about heading off on a world tour and leaving her at home, but now Rori was confident that while her mother-in-law still had plenty of healing to go, she would be just fine while they were away from her. It was with clear consciences that the young couple were able to pack up their car and return to London the following day.

xXx

A few days after returning home from Manchester, Aurora took the opportunity to do something she had done quite often back in New York before she and Harry got married and made a permanent home for themselves in London. Life had been so busy since Jays passing the previous year that she hadn’t had a chance to start back up again in London and with the tour only weeks away she knew this was her final spare moment.

It took the better part of an hour for her to arrive after first taking a bus north to Knightsbridge from which she caught the Piccadilly line over to Russell square. She paused for a moment in the small patch of trees of Queen Square Gardens to collect herself before heading up the front steps and through the entry to the Great Ormond Street Hospital. An administrator was waiting in the lobby for her and after a quick greeting and handshake, Aurora was led upstairs and onto one of the kids' wards.

No matter how many times she made these visits, the first moment was always confronting. It was always upsetting to see so many tiny kids so sick and the exhausted, shattered expressions on their parents faces. No matter how often she did this there was always the briefest moment when her eyes threatened to tear up and she had to bite the inside of her cheek before plastering a bright smile on her face.

She spent most of the day there with the kids, admiring their drawings, singing songs for them, and playing with their toys. She spoke with the parents too, trying as best she could to brighten their day even if just a little bit. By the time she left she could feel the tears threatening to fall and instead of subjecting herself to crying on the tube, she ordered an Uber to get her home to where Harry was waiting with open arms and hot cup of tea.

She fell into those arms the moment she stepped into their living room, her entire body shaking with the great heaving sobs breaking through her chest. He didn’t say anything, knowing exactly how painful these visits were, having made enough of his own over the years. Whenever it had been his turn, his wife had been the safe harbour for him to return home to and now it was just his turn to help her weather the storm. He pulled a blanket over them as they settled into the sofa and he hummed softly, rubbing her back until her breathing finally slowed and she drifted to sleep, laying on his chest.

xXx

They hadn’t seen much of the boys since the wedding, so with Niall’s album launch fast approaching, Aurora was immensely excited to join him on stage to perform their duet Seeing Blind at his second stop on his Flicker Sessions tour. Following the first show in Dublin on the Tuesday evening, Niall flew into London early the following morning and Aurora met him at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire to rehearse ahead of the show the following evening. After a full day of rehearsals, Niall joined Aurora on her drive home, hugging Harry tightly as they arrived back at the Battersea Flat.

“Alright, alright,” Harry chuckled as he finally let go of the Irishman. “Get in here before dinner gets cold.”

They all sat down around the dining table, digging into the pasta dish Harry had made, catching each other up on the summers between bites.

“Can’t believe we’re both off on solo tours,” Niall said as Aurora cleared the table. “Seems mental to not all be cramming ourselves into the bus together.”

“I know,” Harry agreed sadly. “Feels weird to be making all the decisions on my own. Exciting though.”

“Agreed,” Niall chuckled. “Can’t bloody wait. Last night was absolutely buzzing and tomorrow’s gonna be so bloody great with Rors.”

“Gonna be so much fun Ni,” Rori echoed. “Been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“Speaking of,” Harry said. “Gem said she should get back into town about an hour before the doors open so I’ll probably wait for her and we can head over together. That work for you two?”

“Sounds good mate,” Niall nodded.

“Works for me baby,” Rori agreed, kissing Harry on the cheek. “I’m planning to arrive a few hours before doors open so I have time to get dressed and get hair and makeup done.”

xXx

The following evening Aurora waited backstage as Niall stepped out into the spotlight and began the show with The Tide. The crowd sounded electric and Aurora found herself far more excited than nervous to soon been joining him. The minutes flew by and Niall was quickly welcoming her out into the spotlight to a round of applause. He was smiling brightly as he started playing and sang the opening lines of the song, before Aurora joined him, a matching smile lighting up her own face. As they reached the chorus, Rori found herself dancing across the stage, the hem of her dress flaring out above her knees as she twirled. The song was over far too soon for her liking and she found herself more eager than ever for Harry’s own tour to kick off.

xXx

As September began, the stress had been building between the Styles’ for days. With the tour only  weeks away Harry was already overworked and exhausted. He was so full of anxiety, waking in the middle of the night to call Jeff to check on some tiny detail he’d just thought of and it had just kept piling up. Aurora had wanted to help him, wanted to calm him, and tell him that it would be ok, but she was consumed by her own fears. Despite how much she had enjoyed singing with Niall and how well their TV performances had gone over the past few months, she hadn’t lied to Liam all those months ago when she’d shared her fears with him that her disability would make her a liability to the tour. She couldn't use her prosthetic every waking hour of the day; it wasn’t healthy, both on a physical and mental level. Physically the prosthetic was never entirely comfortable, leaving her constantly aware that something foreign was attached to her body and mentally, while the transmitter was a technological marvel, using it for longer than a few hours left her exhausted and if she kept it on too long she was assaulted by the worst migraines imaginable. The fear of being unable to perform, of failing Harry, of not being what he needed was drowning her. She knew he loved her of course, but they had barely been married 5 months and she was terrified of being a burden, or worse still, of disappointing him and hurting his career.  

All of this was building up between the two of them, the stress feeling like a thick fog filling their flat and weighing down everything in it. A week after Aurora performed with Niall in Shepherds Bush, and two weeks before they were set to fly out to San Francisco, it all came to a head, boiling over in a fit of anger and frustration; both of them saying things they didn’t mean just to win a point against the other. She wasn’t even sure what had ignited the flame but as soon as it sparked, neither could hold back until Rori knew she needed to leave before either of them said something they couldn’t recover from. Somehow, she managed to hold back the tears until the door closed behind her and she crossed the hall to the elevator, leaving her husband in their apartment, angry and alone. She let the tears fall as she rode the lift down the underground garage, thankful that it didn’t stop to pick up anyone else along the way. She was gasping for breath, sobbing hideously by the time she climbed into her car and started the engine. She wasn’t even sure where to go but she knew that she needed to go somewhere.

She was furious and she was hurt. They'd bickered over the years, they wouldn’t be human if they hadn’t, but he’d never raised his voice at her the way he did tonight and she’d crossed the line too, said things she didn’t mean and things he didn’t deserve. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going but didn’t find herself all that surprised when she pulled up out the front of the Golden Stag. She parked the car in the side alley to avoid getting a ticket the following morning and made her way inside, attempting to wipe her tear stained cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater with her right hand, her prosthetic long forgotten back at the apartment.

It was nearing midnight and the place was mostly empty, only a few stragglers left in a booth by the fireplace. Helen was behind the bar, not looking up as she heard the door open. “We’re closing up,” she called out.

“Sorry,” Rori mumbled, causing Helen’s head to snap up, her face pinching in worry as she took in the young woman’s expression. She rushed out from behind the bar, pulling Rori against her chest and tucking her under her chin.

“What happened sweetheart?”

“Harry and I had a fight and I just had to get out of the house,” Rori admitted. “Didn’t know where else to go.”

“Of course baby,” Helen soothed. “How about we get you settled in your old room upstairs?”

Aurora nodded and allowed herself to be led towards the staircase and up to the small apartment where she’d grown up. She toed off her shoes and climbed under the duvet, while Helen sat on the edge of the bed and ran her hand over Rori’s hair.

“Do I need to go knock some sense into that boy of yours?” she asked.

Aurora shook her head. “He didn’t say anything worse than what I said to him.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

“No.”

“Ok sweetheart. Try to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.” Helen stood up and headed for the door. Just as she was about to step through, Aurora's voice gave her pause.

“Thank you, Gran,” she mumbled.

“Get some sleep baby,” she repeated, closing the door softly behind her.

When she woke the next morning, she crept downstairs, noting the missed calls from Harry when she checked her phone. The pub wasn’t open yet, so it was deserted but for Helen and Greg cleaning up and preparing for the day ahead.

“Good morning sweetheart,” Helen greeted as Aurora perched herself on one of the many bar stools. “You hungry?” Aurora shook her head. “How about a coffee?”

“Yes please,” she mumbled, smiling softly.

“Helen said you didn’t want us giving Harry a piece of our minds,” Greg added while his wife turned to the coffee machine, “but if you change your mind you just let me know. If he hurt you...”

“He didn’t,” Aurora cut him off. “At least not how you mean.”

She was interrupted from explaining further as her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, glad that it wasn’t Harry’s face on her screen. She answered the call with a soft “Hello?”

“Rori, where are you? Are you safe?” Louis asked, worry clear in his voice.

“I’m fine Lou,” Rori promised. “I’m at the pub.”

“Thank god,” she heard him sigh. “H called this morning to see if you crashed at mine, said he’d already checked with El. He’s worried about you.”

“Well he can worry a bit longer, I’m not ready to talk to him.”

“He feels terrible for what he said,” Louis said.

“Don’t,” Rori sighed. “Please don’t get in the middle of this.”

“I won’t, sorry,” Louis replied. “Just promise you’ll text him and let him know you’re safe and that you’re not ready to talk. You and I both know he’ll spiral if he doesn’t hear from you soon.”

“I will,” she promised. “I gotta go.”

“Ok, love you.”

“Love you too Lou.”

Once she hung up, she did as she’d promised and texted Harry to let him know where she was and that she needed some time alone before she was ready to see him.

After finishing her coffee, Aurora left the pub and drove back home to Battersea after promising to call Helen later to let her know that everything was ok. She parked the car in its usual spot but instead of heading to the elevator and up to where she knew her husband would be waiting for her, she instead headed out to the street level and wandered along the banks of the Thames until she reached the Peace Pagoda. The sun was shining but there was a chill breeze blowing in off the water, not uncommon for autumn in London and Aurora pulled her thin cardigan tighter around her, lamenting not having a jacket while she walked. After staring at the familiar pagoda for a while, she turned left and headed into the park, passing the bandstand until she reached her favourite section of the park, the subtropical garden. She found a seat on a nearly dry bench and sat, watching people as they roamed between flower beds and posed for photos. The previous night’s argument played through her head. It was far from the first argument she and Harry had ever had. They’d been together for almost 4 years and it was only natural to bicker and disagree, but they’d never really had a smack down, drag out fight like this one before. He’d never yelled at her the way he had, standing across from each other in the kitchen, and she’d never stormed out the way she had. This was uncharted territory for them both and while she regretted what she’d said, she worried that Harry would not be so quick to forgive. He wore his heart on his sleeve and she had witnessed over the years how unwilling he could be to forgive when he felt that he had been betrayed. For much of the year, Louis had been trying to convince him to mend things with Zayn and while Harry was happy that the two men were reconnecting, he had no intention of forgiving his ex-bandmate after all these years.

It was all of this that was running through Auroras head as she sat in the park, trying to figure out how to apologize for the terrible things she had yelled. She already forgave Harry for his own hurtful barbs, but she was feeling so unprepared and out of her depth when it came to repairing the damage rendered to her marriage. Not only did the thought of Harry hating her or resenting her cut at her like a knife, but the start of tour was only 2 weeks away and she knew that they needed to address what had happened and try to fix it, or the tour would be doomed before it even began.

Eventually Aurora accepted that she had stalled long enough and headed for home, finding the apartment worryingly silent when she finally stepped inside. She padded along the hall, peering into each room as she passed, eventually finding Harry at the piano in their studio, his shoulders slumped and his hunched back to the door. She leaned against the doorframe as she watched him run his hands along the keys, only moving forward when she noticed the way his shoulders shook with every shaky breath. He stirred when he heard her footsteps, immediately lurching to his feet and she felt her heart break a lit bit more at the look on his face. The moment he turned to face her it was clear that he had barely slept since she left the night before. His eyes were red and puffy and filled with so much sadness that Aurora felt her own eyes grow warm with tears seeing the man she loved more than anything in so much pain.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, quickly closing the distance between them, and throwing her arms around him.

Harry held onto her just as tightly, whispering his own apologies in her ear as they both cried. They simply held each other for long minutes before finally pulling apart and looking into each other’s eyes.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Harry said. “God I’m so sorry I love. I never meant to say any of that.”

“I know H,” Rori replied softly. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said any of what I did either. We were both stressed, and I know it doesn’t excuse what we did but I know that you didn’t intend to hurt me, and I hope you know I’d never want to hurt you either.”

“Of course, I know that,” Harry gasped. “Never doubted it for a second.”

“So, what do we do now?” she asked. “How do we fix this?”

“We can’t pretend it didn’t happen,” Harry admitted. “Think we need to sit down and talk about what we said. Figure out why, so we never get there again.”

“Ok,” Rori agreed. “Think maybe we could just snuggle up on the sofa for a bit first?”

“God yes,” Harry sighed. “Maybe a little nap too. Couldn’t sleep at all without you and I’m bloody exhausted.”

“A nap sounds pretty great,” she agreed with a small smile, intertwining their fingers as they headed down the hall together. They both knew the conversation awaiting them wouldn’t be easy, but they both knew that they belonged together and they would get through this speedbump just as they had overcome ever other obstacle that had faced together over the years.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Three: It’s Complicated

Forever? Masterlist

1st February 2016 Ashley loved celebrating birthdays, she especially loved celebrating Harry’s birthday. On the morning of the first day of February she pulled herself out of bed and found her phone to send Harry a video of herself dancing to Stevie Wonder’s rendition of happy birthday. It was easier to do when she still lived with her mum because their house was considerably bigger than her new flat in London. Being from the North of England Ashley was naive when she started house hunting, but eventually she managed to find a small flat in South London that had decent enough tube connections to allow her to get to work each day. She had also managed to make it her own, making the most of the available space, each room was incredibly small, but that was how things worked in London. She was set to be at work all day and then she’d have to face the inevitable joy that was rush hour as she traveled into North London for Harry’s birthday meal. 

Following breakfast she rummaged through her wardrobe looking for something she could wear to work, but would also be appropriate for Harry’s meal. She was still yet to tell Harry about the baby and her choice to keep it, so she thought tight fitting clothes were out of the question. Eventually she settled on a grey chunky roll neck jumper which she paired with black jeans and her trusty leather jacket. Her hair was a mess as always, she didn’t even attempt to curl or straighten it, so decided to opt for a simple but effective top knot.

“Morning sunshine!” Ashley called as she sat at her desk, across from her new found friend Toby, he was one of those effortlessly fashionable people who looked painfully good in literally anything. The two of them were doing the same paid internship and shared a mutual appreciation for Colin Firth; they spent every lunchtime together, Ashley swiping through Toby’s tinder matches to find him a suitable match, whilst Toby continued to talk about his failed dates, this week's disaster was Roberto.

“How are you so awake when it is so early?” Toby sighed, spinning on his office chair.

“It’s called getting nine hours of sleep you melon.” 

“I love it when you get all sarcastic, makes me realise I’m not actually as cynical as I thought.” Toby told her as she tapped away on her computer.

Whilst on their daily lunch break Ashley and Toby stopped off at Starbucks, “What can I get you love?” the barista asked her.

“Just a cheese and marmite panini and tea please.” Ashley replied as she handed over her cash.

“Cheese and marmite? Are you trying to insult me?” Toby asked in disgust before ordering his salad and cappuccino.

“You aren’t allowed to be rude to me, I’m pregnant remember, besides it's one of my odd cravings, along with chicken nuggets dunked in peanut butter.” She told Toby sarcastically, the only people who knew about the baby were her mum, Gemma and Toby, she hadn’t intended to tell anyone at work until further down the line, but using dry january as an excuse not to go on a work night out didn’t seem like a feasible excuse, so she felt it necessary to tell him the truth. She was still yet to find the right moment to tell Harry, or Anne for that matter, she didn’t want to have to tell her best friend that her first child was born out of a loveless night of lust, well in fact there wasn’t even any lust on Ashley’s behalf.

“What ya thinkin bout pet?” Toby asked her as they took their usual seat in the window.

“All sorts, whether I should buy a crib or wait a few months, whether or not I should tell my best friend I got pregnant after a drunken mistake.” Ashley explained, biting her nails the way she always had when she was anxious.

“Whoever this elusive friend of yours is, I’m sure he’ll still care about you the same way whether or not you’re pregnant, so stop being so hard on yourself, besides babies don’t stay that small forever, in a few months time your belly is going to be the size of a beach ball.” Ashley hadn’t told anyone at work her best friend was in fact Harry, she didn’t want people to think she got a free pass just because she was best friends with pop sensation Harry Styles.

As soon as she entered Leicester Square Station Ashley regretted her choice to get the tube, it was packed, even though on the streets of London there was still a cold chill in the air, somehow the underground remained its warm and sweat inducing self. She held onto her bump with one hand, while the other had hold of the pole, not wanting to face palm on a tube full of people. Since moving to London Ashley was often successful at wrangling a seat, seeing as it was pretty obvious she was pregnant, it had taken her a while to adapt to the bluntness of most Londoners, growing up in Holmes Chapel, life moved at a much slower pace, people stopped for a chat and it wouldn’t in anyway impact the progress of their day, but here everyone was in a rush, living in their own little bubble.

Harry’s restaurant of choice was fancy, very fancy, when Ashley arrived they took her coat from her and led her to the table where Harry, Anne and Gemma were sat with several other people she didn’t recognise, so assumed they were colleagues and famous friends of Harry’s. “Happy birthday Haz!” Ashley cried as she hugged her best friend.

“Thank you petal.” he whispered into her hair, swaying her from side to side, he was dressed in yet another Styles signature look, a loose white shirt which was only buttoned half way, so his bird tattoos were peeping out, paired with black skinny jeans and chelsea boots

“This is for you,” she handed him the gift bag, Ashley never knew what to get Harry, if he wanted something, frankly he was in the position where he could afford it himself, there was no need for Ashley to buy him anything fancy, so instead she decided on a leather bound notebook with room for all his scribbles and ideas. “Twenty two eh? Pretty sure someone’s written a song about that.” She smirked, shooting Harry a knowing glance as she took a seat opposite him, beside Gemma. 

“You alright?” Gemma mouthed, to which Ashley nodded, being the generally caring and compassionate person she was, Gemma had accompanied her to the twelve week scan, and offered her services as a general source of comfort, because in Ashley’s eyes she was the next best thing to Harry.

The food was posh, and Ashley had always lacked a refined palette, the poshest food she’d ever had was when her dad took her for tea and cake at the Ritz, so she opted for what she felt most comfortable with, steak. Conversation was buzzing amongst the table, Harry had lots of questions for Ashley, he hadn’t seen her since Christmas and wanted to know all about her first month working at Capital. “Some champagne for you sir.” The waiter placed the bottle on the table in front of Harry and a champagne flute in front of each guest. 

Harry stood up, clearing his throat, “I’d like to say thank you all for coming tonight, it means a lot to have all my favourite people in one room, so cheers!” Harry told the group before popping the cork, he made his way around the table to pour everyone a glass, eventually getting to Ashley, “

I don’t want any thanks H.” She told him softly.

“Oh come on Ashley, it’s the first day of February, dry January is over so you’ve got to have a drink.” he insisted.

“I’m fine H, I don’t want one.” She replied.

“Just one, a little one.” He pushed.

“Harry leave it.” Gemma told him sternly.

“Why are you getting all defensive all of a sudden Gem?” He asked, placing the bottle on the table.

“If she doesn’t want a drink I just don’t think you should pester her about it.”

“Harry I wasn’t doing dry January, the real reason I haven’t been drinking is-” Ashley muttered.

“You don’t have to do this, not now, not if you aren’t ready.” Gemma assured her.

“What’s going on? Why are you two being secretive?” Harry questioned, the several glasses of wine he had consumed, clearly taking effect, on his normally rational state.

“I’m pregnant.” The silence was almost deafening, the light conversations around the table had stopped, Ashley and Harry looked at eachother like there was no one else in the room, she hadn’t wanted to tell him like this, she was going to tell him when she was ready. Harry sat back in his seat, twiddling his thumbs, “I think I best leave you all to it, thank you for having me,” Ashley whispered before standing from her chair, she left some money towards the meal on the table, took her bag from the chair and left the restaurant, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gemma glared at her brother as Ashley darted out of the restaurant, “Well done Harry, you handled that with real compassion.”

“What did you want me to do? My best friend just told me she’s pregnant.” Harry replied.

“For Christ sake Harry! She’s the one who is going through all of this, and yet all you can think about is your bruised ego.” Gemma told him bluntly, the raised voices drawing unwanted attention from other customers in the restaurant.

“You two need to calm down.” Anne soothed, placing her hand on Harry’s arm, “I’m sure she had a valid reason not to tell you love.”

“Harry, be the friend she needs you to be, go after her and apologise.” Gemma instructed him.

London was dark, as you would expect, it was early February after all, Ashley made her way towards Highgate tube station, the winter frost biting at her skin as she walked. She entered the station, rummaging through her pockets for her oyster card, “Ash! Wait.” She turned to see her best friend, panting heavily as though he’d run a 100 metre sprint, the station wasn’t busy but he had drawn some unwanted attention to himself. “I’m a dick.” he sighed as he walked closer to her.

“Little shit actually.” she replied, a small grin appearing briefly on her lips.

“What I mean is, whatever happens, whatever you have to deal with over the next few months, I’ll have your back, forever.” He assured her, holding onto her elbows, so as to steady her.

“The reason I didn’t tell you was because I thought you’d think I was a failure, for fuck sake I’m nearly twenty and I’m three months pregnant and the father is a twat who currently resides in Malia and probably beds a new girl every night.” 

“I don’t think you’re a failure, out of everyone I know you’ve got your shit together, you knew you were pregnant when you came to London, but you still did it, the idea of being here alone didn’t phase you and I admire you for that.” Harry told her, “You’ll be a great mum, and I’ll be an even better uncle.” Harry chuckled.

“I’ve got another present for you if you want it? I think you’ll like it more than what I actually got you.” Ashley rummaged in a bag, pulling out her twelve week scan, “That’s your niece or nephew in there.”

Harry grinned eagerly, his dimples becoming more prominent than usual, “Can I keep it?” he asked her, unable to stop smiling.

“Of course you can.” 

“Thank you, I’m sorry I’m such a little shit.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly, kissing the top of her head, “I’m going to look out for you two forever.”

[oliviastan17]

Just a dream (3/7)

Length: 2k (ish)

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, smut, more fluff, adorable gifs

Read parts 1 & 2 if you don’t know how these two got together. This starts off the next day after Part 2. It’s not my best work… I love reading your comments! Reblog if you want to. DO NOT POST ON ANY OTHER WEBSITE! I don’t own any of the gif’s.

You and Sebastian had a long talk the next day about how exactly you were going to make this work. After talking you came to an agreement. When the shoot was over in about 2 months, whoever was able to travel to the other’s state would do so. You agreed to do this for as long as it continued to work and made sense.

You were about to survive being apart for the first time because he was going back to New York for Christmas to be with his mom. He wanted to bring you with him but you really didn’t want to miss Christmas with your niece and nephew. Also, the thought of meeting his mom terrified you but you didn’t tell him that.

You were apart for the next 5 days. It was only 5 days. No big deal right?

Wrong. You missed him. Talking on the phone wasn’t enough. You couldn’t wait until he got back.

He got back in town super early this morning. It was the first day back on set after the holiday and you had an early call time so you hadn’t seen him yet. You were dreading going to work. You felt more than a little embarrassed about the scene your ex caused at the party. While only a few people witnessed everything you knew that it wouldn’t take long for everyone to know what happened.

If anyone on set didn’t know you were dating Sebastian, they did now thanks to your ex’s outburst. Sets can be like high school with everyone spreading rumors. Sebastian had the day off so you were forced to deal with the situation alone.

A few of your co-workers came barging into the prop room to interrogate you.

“Have you been together this whole time?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He must look great naked!”

“Please tell me you have had sex with him while he’s wearing the arm. That would be amazing!”

“No. None of your business. You have no idea. You need to stop thinking about that,” you said answering all their questions. “Can we drop this now?”

Throughout the day they would come up with several more questions and would run up to you to ask. At the end of the day you practically ran to your car to avoid any more questions.

Once home you changed into some comfy clothes and poured a glass of wine. Turning on your TV you settled on your couch and waited for Sebastian. You heard a knock soon after.

As you opened the door you saw him standing there with a bag of Chinese food. You barely got out a “Hi,” before he dropped the bag and pretty much attacked your mouth with his.

“Hi,” he said as he picked you up, threw you over his shoulder and carried you to your bedroom. Throwing you on your bed he wasted no time ripping his shirt off and then taking your shorts off while you removed your shirt.

He took in the sight of you completely naked as he crawled on top of you and then was kissing your neck so softly he had you craving more. He left a trail of kisses as he moved down your body until his head was between your legs. He went from kissing your inner thighs to then focusing on drawing circles around your clit with his tongue. It did not take long for that explosive feeling to come over you. How could he possibly know my body better than I do?

Pleased with his work he brought his face up to yours as your hands got to work undoing his belt. He kissed you deeply while your toes helped him slide his pants off. He moaned (my god, you love that sound) as he slid into you while you hooked your legs around his waist.  He executed the perfect Chinese fire drill switching the position so you were on top. As you rolled your hips on top of him he brought his hand up and massaged your clit with his thumb causing you gasp at the sudden waves of pleasure taking over your body. He almost came just watching you on top of him. A few movements of your hips later he felt you tighten around him. You needed to place your hands on his chest for stability as you leaned forward in satisfaction. Once you rode out your orgasm and recovered Sebastian flipped you over so that he was on top of you again and began thrusting deep in you giving you all that had. He didn’t last very long.

With your bodies still connected he kissed you softly.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he said.

You replied with, “I’m starving.”

Scoffing at your comment he buried his head against your neck and you couldn’t hold back the laughter.

“I missed you, too,” you said and softly kissed his lips. “But I really am starving.”

With one more kiss he rolled off of you and helped you sit up. You put on some underwear and an oversized shirt while he got dressed and went out to your living room. He picked up the bag of food and brought it over while you started your show over.

“What are you watching?”

“Supernatural. Have you seen it?” you asked while you situated yourself on the couch with your legs on his lap.

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re missing out.”

“This coming from the girl who hasn’t seen Game of Thrones.”

“I don’t have HBO,” you shrugged.

As the show started he said, “Oh wait, I think I was at a convention with those guys in Italy.” He casually took a bite and then added, “I’m going back in May I think.”

You just stared at him with your mouth open. Frozen.

“What?” he asked looking confused.

“Can I come? Actually, forget the question. I’m coming with you.”

“Okay,” he laughed. He loved the fact that you were making plans for something 5 months in the future.

“I would like to apologize in advance for embarrassing you. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

He looked at you, raised his eyebrows and did that thing where he licked his lips and smiled.

“Oh god, I take that back,” you said seeing the expression on his face.

“No no no! You already said it! Too late!” 

“You’re going to milk this all the way until May aren’t you?”

“Probably, yeah,” he said as he watched you try (and fail) to use chopsticks. 

“Fuck this. I’m getting a fork,” you said while laughing at yourself. While walking back from the kitchen you tripped over your own feet and he burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. The “Oh shit” you said mid-fall was too adorable.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” he asked while getting up and walking over to you.

It was in that moment that he knew he loved you. You were mesmerizing. There you were sitting on the ground in an old t shirt laughing at how you just fell on your ass. You had tears forming from the laughter as you let out an unintended snort. Your laughter was hypnotizing.

He helped you up and just gazed into your eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you mid-laugh.

******************************************************************************************

The next 2 months were perfect. Work was going smoothly and you and Sebastian had found a perfect rhythm in your relationship. Being together came easy. Everything was going great. You even managed to get some more embarrassing photos of Chris during the wrap party for the show.

You had a couple of weeks before you started working with Chris on his new project. Sebastian needed to go back to New York for some meetings and this time you were going with him. You had never been to New York before.

“This is it?” you asked as you walked into his apartment.

He laughed at your reaction. “Not as big as you are used to huh?”

“That’s an understatement! How much is your rent?”

“$5,000/month.” He said it like it was no big deal while you almost choked on your coffee.

“I pay $2500/month…for my house…3 bedrooms!”

He looked at your shocked expression and just laughed.

You spent the day walking around the city. You went to Central Park, ate pizza and had some drinks at a rooftop bar that had the most amazing view.

The next day his meeting was very early.

“Babe, I’m leaving.” He leaned to kiss your cheek and all he got was a grunt in response. You were not a morning person.

Your phone woke you up an hour later. You saw it was your mom and answered.

“Mom, can I call you back when I’m more awake?”

“Honey, why did Mary just text me a picture of you walking around New York with a mystery man?”

“What?”

“You know, Mary? You used to be best friends with her daughter Emily?”

“Yes, I know who Mary is Mom. I was asking about the pictures.”

“Well there’s one of you holding hands, one where he has his arm around you and one where you two are laughing at something.Who is he?”

You filled her in on how you met, how long you have been together and what you are doing in New York.

“So is it serious?” she asked.

“I don’t know Mom. We’re still trying to figure all that out.”

“Oh, he’s so handsome Y/n! You two would make beautiful babies!”

“And that’s my cue to hang up. Bye Mom.”

“Bye honey.”

—

Sebastian got home a few hours later. He took you to lunch and then you walked around the city some more and did some shopping. Back at Sebastian’s apartment now you were having a lazy evening in curled up on the couch watching some movie when your phone rang.

“Hey Mom.”

“Oh Y/n honey. I can NEVER meet your boyfriend!”

“Um…you want to elaborate on that?”

“Well I googled him cause, you know, I was curious. There was a list of movies he had done and I looked at the descriptions and I thought ‘well I like gymnastics so I’ll watch this one’. And oh that was a mistake!”

“Why?”

“I have seen more of your boyfriend than I ever cared to!”

“What did you watch?”

“It’s called The Bronze. Have you seen it?”

“Seb, do you have a copy of The Bronze?” you asked him.

He looked at you with puzzled look mixed with a tiny bit of panic.

“Mom, I’ll call you back,” you said as you hung up the phone. “So my Mom just watched The Bronze. Would you like to tell me why she is freaking out?” you asked with a humorous expression.

He dropped his face into his hands.

“Oh my god, I can never meet your mom now.”

“Awww…you want to meet my mom? That’s so sweet!” you teased.

“Well, I don’t want to anymore!”

“Okay I need to look up this movie. See what all the fuss is about,” you said picking up your phone. He grabbed it out of your hand. He got up from the couch holding your phone up in the air and out of your reach.

“I have ways of getting what I want, you know,” you said as you were walking towards him.

“I’m well aware of your talents.”

You stood in front of him and brought your hands up to lightly scratch the back of his neck. You knew he loved that.

“No, that’s not going to work,” he said closing his eyes.

You began to slowly kiss from his ear down to his collarbone on one side and then from his collarbone up to his ear on the other side. He took in an unsteady breath and you smiled. You planted kisses on his cheek moving closer to his lips. You lightly pressed your lips onto his and he couldn’t help but kiss you back. When you took his bottom lip between your teeth he lost all control. He threw your phone on the couch and wrapped his arms around you. You smiled against his lips as he walked you over to the bed where both you forgot about what you were trying to look up on your phone.

Next Chapter

Tags:

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile​

@stangirl-fangirl264​

@sideeffectsofyou​

@allsortsofinterests​

@superhero-missouri​

[eddiernunson]

Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves…difficult.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie’s general appearance.

Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when I wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie’s energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).

I'm posting a sneak at this one, because it was a surprisingly close call. I'm not sure when I'll be done, tbh. But here's the first 900 words!

As the night swallowed you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car while she drives you to the ER. While rough housing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.

As the lights of the night pass you by you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you roll your eyes in exasperation.

She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.

She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.

The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.

The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.

Soon, you find yourself sat in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain at each one. Not that there are many options to begin with.

Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called to the back as you read the memes and watch with one headphone in.

Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.

For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.

Your eyes flick onto someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally in the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.

Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.

His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.

As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Somehow, he was just so enticing, everything about him drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.

Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage, wondering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.

The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and white tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.

Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

If you want to be tagged when the full fic is posted, just let me know in the replies. Again, I have no idea when that will happen, it's not done yet. Maybe this'll give me the motivation i need

[easyobsession]

What Comes Next

A Spinning Out oneshot

(you can also read it on AO3 here)

"He refuses to propose after they medal at the Olympics."

He refuses to propose after they medal at the Olympics.

They’ve just won silver in Beijing which, granted, isn’t the same as first, but they’re less than three-tenths of a point away and even landing second place is unexpected and pretty damn impressive.

(And just for the record: no, the loss isn’t to Leah and Gabe. They came close, but only just missed their spot on the Olympic team. Instead, the gold goes to a pair from Canada who are being coached by Virtue and Moir, which, really, leaves everyone else little to no shot in frozen hell anyway.)

So yeah, they haven’t won gold. Yet. But their spirits are far from crushed. Few thought they’d make it this far, and landing silver at their first Games is pretty damn impressive.

Plus, 2026 isn’t that far away. And Italy has always been on their bucket lists.

Anyway, yes, admittedly it’s kind of the perfect time. Not to mention the fact that by now their relationship is no secret to the public and damn near everyone worldwide that’s been following their careers and, therefore, also their personal lives for the better part of two years, expects it.

And obviously he has the means to pull it off. He could go as big and extravagant as he wants, maybe even getting down on one knee in the Kiss and Cry after they get their scores for literally all the world to see. They’d make international headlines and give feed for a story to be told for the ages.

But they’re not a typical couple. Kat is far from a typical girl. And Justin, while maybe not the sharpest blade on the ice, is not a complete moron.

(In layman’s terms: he knows she’d kill him.)

Plus, that’s too expected. And while he may not want to blindside her on national television, he does want it to be a surprise.

So instead he waits until three months after the Olympics; after the press has died down and they’ve both turned down offers to be on the Masked Singer and Dancing With the Stars, and decides to go the simple route, busying Kat with a daylong distraction of hanging out with her sister for a rare girl’s day out, and spends the next few hours getting everything ready.

He’s prepared for this. It isn’t just something he’s decided to do over the last few months. Justin had known this girl was special the moment they met, and every day since then has only proved him right, which is why he’s made sure to take every necessary step to nail this.

Kat’s father has never really been in the picture, and her relationship with her mother has been a rough one over the years- that’s no secret to anyone. But the Baker family dynamic changes a lot after Regionals 2020, which is why he asks both Kat’s mom and sister for permission nearly a year before the heist goes down, under the guise of asking about a Christmas gift idea for Kat, just to be safe.

(For the record, he gets a resounding yes and far more tears than he’s actually comfortable with.)

Funny enough though, it isn’t Carol or Serena he goes to when it comes to finding a ring; nor is it Jenn, whom things have gotten better with over the years with Kat, though nothing has ever returned to how it once was. He even considers asking Mandy for her input because, y’know, jewelry, until the answer almost literally smacks him in the face.

Which is how he winds up having secret meetings with Dasha and her jeweler for the better part of eight months to custom design the perfect ring. And while yes, it’s stressful and confusing and sometimes downright painful, it’s completely worth it when he finally sees his hard work come to fruition.

He’s spared no limits on the ring, though he does keep in mind the fact that Kat isn’t the type to want million dollars on her hand, and Justin knows he’s nailed it when Dasha immediately tears up at the sight of the vintage pear shaped diamond in white gold.

A part of him thought about doing it in their suite. (After about six months of dating and partnering, they’d decided to throw caution to the wind and move in together. It made sense, since they spent all their time together anyway. However, despite wanting a real place of their own, the convenience of the hotel was just too beneficial to pass up, so they’d hauled Kat’s crap out of Dasha’s and upgraded to one of the luxury suites. A week later, as they sat on the sofa of their fully decorated suite entirely spearheaded by Mandy, they knew they’d made the right decision.) But he quickly tossed that idea away as being a little too basic for his liking.

Another thought had been to do it at the rink. It was where they’d spent countless hours training, both as friends and enemies and more, growing and learning in love and sport and in life. But the rink also held a lot of other memories, with both their families and friends and other partners, and held too many negativities to mix with the positives. He wanted something special, something for just the two of them.

Which is why when she walks onto the ice of his mother’s secret hideaway, Justin knows he’s chosen correctly.

He figures he’s probably bought out enough fairy lights to power a small country, which is saying a lot since the place was damn near covered in them to begin with, as well as lanterns and candles and an array of various flowers, since Kat has never been able to choose just one as her favorite. For a brief moment he’d considered doing a table for two with dinner and dessert and a good bottle of wine, but as they live in a town that truly is fucking freezing 24/7, Justin knows he can’t afford to draw this out.

Instead he meets her at the edge of the clearing, her skates already on thanks to a tip from Serena, and guides her to the middle of the ice.

The speech he’s prepared, to be perfectly honest, flies right out of his head. Which is terrifying because it means he’s going to have to go off the cuff and completely from his heart.

Somehow, though, he manages to spill his soul, telling Kat that she’s changed his life for the better and made him want to be a better person for all the right reasons. He tells her that she’s special and beautiful and different; that she makes him smile and he loves the way her laugh lights up her entire face and how she still hums their Romeo and Juliet music under her breath when she thinks nobody is listening.

He tells her that he loves her now, he loved her way back then, and he knows he’ll love her for eternity, and he wants to spend that eternity with her at his side, not just as partners on the rink, but in life.

It feels like he’s down on his knee for hours, but in reality takes all of two seconds before Kat is screaming a resounding yes and nearly knocking him over (thank god for his good reflexes).

It’s after the dust has settled, after a kiss that could move Earth’s plates and the ring slides perfectly into place on her hand, that Justin finally locks eyes with his fiancé and grins.

And just like that very first day, after everything else has calmed, when it’s just the two of them, together, and the ice…

They skate.

♥️

[ipaintwithwords]

Christmas Short Story Exchange

Wolves Without Teeth

Fandoms: Life is Strange, Life is Strange 2 Characters: Sean Diaz, Lyla Park, Daniel Diaz, Chloe Price, David Madsen (mention), Brody Holloway (mention) Tags: Post-Redemption Ending, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, light angst with happy ending, mentions of depression/antidepressants, reminiscing, ambiguous/open ending, POV heavy, pretty scenery and dogs and ghosts

And I run from wolves breathing heavily at my feet And I run from wolves tearing into me without teeth

♪♫♪♫♪♫

*

Millions of stars lit up the vast, deep indigo canvas of the night sky along the coast of Oregon. It was a quiet, peaceful night, the kind that was made for intimate strolls and heartwarming conversations and marveling at the beauty of the ocean, hand in hand, barefoot on the shore, accompanied by the light April breeze and the soft whispers of the waves. It was made for campfires and laughter, grilled fish and cold beer, and acoustic guitar covers of songs that people don’t listen to enough on Spotify, even though they really should - it was a night made for moments ephemeral and eternal at the same time, a series of overexposed polaroid images in the sand. 

However, for the young man driving under the endless rows of majestic pine trees, the night was but a spectacular backdrop for his hours spent on the road. Slightly more memorable than the day before, and infinitely longer than any other day of the past week he’s spent driving, one hand on the wheel, the other one either stroking the gentle crosswind with a cigarette between his fingers or buried in the thick, brown fur of the adolescent wolfdog snoozing on the passenger’s seat, curled up like a content, well-fed little roll with her favorite blanket between her front paws. 

That night, he was holding onto the wheel with both hands. Eyes fixated on the highway, his anxiety was skyrocketing in his chest, flooding the back of his mind with dark thoughts and his head with an unbearable migraine, building up slowly but steadily, creeping into his skull, even the empty - and otherwise numb - socket of his left eye. Not that he was a stranger to headaches, but unlike all his past encounters with nasty migraines, this time he had no idea what to blame: the cigarettes, the lack of sleep, all the synthetic food he shoved down his throat the past few days, his ridiculous deadline drawing near by the minute… Or perhaps the fact that for the first time in fifteen agonizingly long years, he was back on a road he never thought will see again. 

The only difference was that this time, he was on his own. There was no comforting presence beside him, no hula dancer figurine on top of the dashboard, no excited chatter coming from a kid high on adrenaline on the backseat. It was just him and the shores of Oregon, his sad music and his snoring dog (who wasn’t exactly the chatty kind, which, honestly speaking, never truly bothered him; he adopted her for the very same reason) and this stubborn, intrusive, demanding migraine that seemed to have made a cozy little home for itself in his forehead like it was meant to live out the rest of its life under his skin. And somehow, it managed to grow even stronger when out of the blue, the music was interrupted by the steady, low buzzing of his phone.

All of a sudden, violent waves of frustration crashed down over him as he took a quick glance at the device’s screen. Tightening his grip on the wheel until his nails started digging irritated crescents into the faux leather, he grit his teeth while staring at his phone, its buzzing resonating in his temples as if someone was trying to drill into his brain. The buzzing lasted for a solid two minutes before the screen would finally turn dark again and the pulsating sensation in his temples quieted down a little - only giving him a few moments of calm and quiet, though, as his phone started ringing again the moment he was about to sigh in relief.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”, he grunted loudly in anger, waking the peacefully sleeping wolfdog pup with either his hoarse voice or the annoyed dash of his hand as he reached out for his phone to pick up the incoming call and be over with it as fast as possible. He knew exactly what’s coming for him, and he was in the mood for anything but fighting with his best friend on the phone right now. 

“What the fuck, man?!”, hissed a young woman on the other end of the call with a furious whisper-shout, as soon as he pushed the green button. “Are you being serious with me right now? Where the fuck are you, Sean?”, she hissed, and Sean heard a door slamming shut behind her, most likely the backyard door, to be precise, as she stormed out of the kitchen for a smoke.

“You knew I’ll be busy this weekend”, much to his surprise, he magically managed to keep his voice calm and his words collected when he answered after a few moments of hesitation. “I DMed you and I also texted the group chat yest-”

“Yeah, and I thought you’re just trying to back out of going to Walmart with us!”, his feeble attempt of coming up with explanations was met with an angry snap from the young woman. “And I actually can’t believe that we’re having this conversation? Like I can’t comprehend the fact that for whatever fucked up reason, you are actually ditching your own brother’s birthday weekend”, she scoffed, lighting up a cigarette with two impatient click-clacks of a cheap 7-Eleven lighter. 

“I have a deadline, Lyla, and it seems like you’re the only person who can’t accept that”, answered Sean with a deep, resigned sigh, only trying to resist the sudden urge of smoking for a brief second before he rolled down the window and reached for his cigarette case. “I talked to Daniel about it, alright? He was the first person I called”, he murmured under his nose, shoving a crooked cigarette between his lips. “And to be honest, I still don’t understand why you guys insisted on throwing this huge ass party for him for an entire weekend... Y’all know he prefers his PS4 and pizza over twenty of us being all over him for three days, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was me who’s about to ruin his birthday! Fuck, man, thanks, now I can see that it was me all along”, Lyla let out a burst of dry laughter, more threatening than the sharpest blades in the world. “You are unbelievable, Sean.”

“I’m doing everyone a favor by skipping, y’know”, said Sean, sticking his hand out the window, unleashing the tiny smoke-dragons of his cigarette into the night. “‘Cause let’s be real, we both know that it’s me who’d ruin his birthday” he added with a shrug, making Lyla snort in disbelief.

“I can’t think of a single reason why his favorite person in the world would do that, so please enlighten me with your wisdom, Sean-Wise”, suddenly, her tone softened, bringing a massive lump to Sean’s throat. 

“The last thing he needs right now is his useless, depressed brother”, he answered quietly, unable to resist the suffocating grip of anxiety on his neck. “And thankfully, he understands that his useless, depressed brother needs to submit an unreasonable amount of work ‘til next Wednesday, so… Yeah. We’re both doing each other a favor, to be honest.”

“Sean, I… Useless? Why would y- What do you even… Hollup for a sec” sighed Lyla, slightly frustrated, as a small voice suddenly called for her. “Yes, baby, what’s up?”, she said, words and smile warmer than the morning sun, and Sean couldn’t help but smile too when he heard her switch to Korean the next moment, most likely reaching for her daughter Hannah, and gently pushing a strand of dark, silky hair behind her ear like she always did. 

“Sorry for that, Miss Thing is getting cranky because she only ate five times today”, Lyla returned to the call after a good minute, and Sean could clearly see her roll her eyes as the door shut close behind Hannah. “So where were we…”

“You were about to give me a Ted Talk on self-love because I called myself useless”, said Sean with a faint smile, before carefully flicking the cigarette butt out the window. Lyla didn’t answer immediately, at least not with words - her silence, on the other hand, was heavy with worry, a calm before the storm Sean knew too well. After all, thirty-three years of friendship teaches a thing or two about another person, especially a friendship like theirs was. 

“You know, I had a feeling this is gonna happen”, when Lyla finally broke the silence, she couldn’t conceal the sad, resigned bitterness in her voice. “At least tell me where you are, man…”

“I’m in Oregon… Driving along the coast, actually”, Sean answered, giving his dog an affectionate scratch behind the ear, and making her turn her all-knowing, golden eyes from the night view on him. “Don’t worry, I’m not alone. Chestnut’s here too.”

“Dude, she didn’t even bark when she heard my voice”, said Lyla, with a very obvious and even more dramatic pout on her face. “But wait, what the fuck are you doing there? In Oregon?”, she asked, and this time, it was her confused frown that Sean could see crystal clear as if Lyla was sitting right next to her. 

For a brief moment, he truly wished she was.

“I’m chasing ghosts”, when he spoke eventually, it felt as if there was someone else talking with his mouth, unseen powers forcing the air out of his lungs and his tongue and teeth to form the words that echoed for a seemingly endless moment in the car and inside Sean’s head. 

And before he could even blink, the echo sunk even deeper, into the darkest pits of his scarred, hurt, lonely soul, as he found himself staring at the unmistakable silhouette of Arcadia Bay in the distance after a slight turn in the road.

*

He spent the night at Otter Point, in his car, right next to the very same visitors plaque he broke down at, for the first time since fleeing Seattle on that nightmarish afternoon all those years ago, to a man he just met - a man who changed everything, although fifteen years later, Sean wasn’t sure anymore that it was for the better. He wasn’t sure whether he’d still be alive at all if it wasn’t for Brody and his golden heart that night, but he was certain of one thing: that compared to all the horrible things that happened to him, to them, death would’ve been but a merciful release.

Death didn’t come for them, however, at least not in its form that’s known to most people. Instead of taking them, it decided to befriend the Wolf Brothers and tag along on their journey, from the suburbs of Seattle to the iron gates of the Mexican border - and after that, the lifeless, ashen grey walls of a suffocatingly small prison cell in Washington. It was there that night too, in Sean’s car, a worn, cherry-red station wagon just like Brody’s, and inside his head, too, buried deep under the quiet, unsteady chaos of his thoughts. It was in every breath he took, every pill he swallowed, every minute he spent awake wondering what is he even doing, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could make it go away, that could make death change it’s stubborn mind and to leave Sean Diaz alone, because, throughout the years, it simply grew too fond of him.

And with time, Sean just… Accepted it. He accepted being handpicked by death itself and stopped fighting it because no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, to get rid of it, to pretend that everything was fine, nothing helped; nothing but the acceptance and the handfuls of numbing bitterness he consumed at least two yellow tubes of each month for the past, God knows how many years. Of course, things could’ve been a lot worse, and Sean was fully aware of that - he knew that he was extremely privileged for being able to settle back into society relatively easily after being released from his sentence of nearly two decades spent in one of the country’s biggest federal prisons. 

Frankly speaking, it wasn’t about settling back into society as much as it was about doing something he secretly always dreamed of, even before the story of the Wolf Brothers began on that chilly Friday afternoon, in a completely ordinary, perfectly average October of a past, long-lost life. In fact, if someone told sixteen-year-old Sean that everything that’s about to happen to him will eventually lead to a new life in which he is a comic book artist who gets paid for drawing the weird shit in his head, sixteen-year-old Sean would’ve probably laughed until his stomach hurt and happy tears started rolling down his cheek.

And yet, there he was that morning, on top of a hill above the Oregon coast, moderately enjoying his cheap instant coffee in the back of his station wagon (and after a glance at his peaky-faced reflection in the mirror, extremely judging his lack of self-discipline regarding taking care of his beard) while waiting for his tablet to charge fully so he can proceed with the next strips for the fifth chapter of The Adventures of the Pack. Chestnut was running around in excited circles, chasing grasshoppers and butterflies and occasionally, her tail, not particularly minding either her owner or the breathtaking view of the coast, and along with it, the quiet town of Arcadia Bay. 

At first, he didn’t even think of making a stop at a seemingly insignificant place like Otter Point on his not-so-spontaneous journey - for some much-needed inspiration or for bittersweet reminiscence, he wasn’t entirely sure anymore -, but while going through dozens of maps and routes and painful memories on a sleepless night before his trip, he stumbled upon a picture Daniel sent him for one of his birthdays spent in prison. A picture from Away, to be precise, of a cozy little bonfire and four people with marshmallow sticks in their hands and tipsy smiles on their faces - a picture that kept him up awake for the whole night, with tears stuck halfway in his throat, desperately trying to fight their way through the walls Sean has built around himself. And the moment he saw David in the picture, he decided that after all the phone calls and visits and almost fatherly check-ins from the man throughout the past fifteen years, the least he can do is stopping in David’s hometown for a quick page or two on his way down South. 

“Man, it must be tough being you”, Sean chuckled as he put his empty mug on the small writing desk in the corner of his on-the-go bedroom, looking at Chestnut playing in the dry dirt alongside the road with a wide, amused smile on his face. “Careful, though… I’d rather not break my neck trying to rescue you if you fall down” he added, climbing out of the back of his car with nimble reflexes, the sudden movement answered with excited bark coming from the wolfdog pup. 

“Would you look at that”, said Sean with an impressed little snort, walking up to the fence and bending over to rest his arms on it, eyes roaming the endless, unbelievably blue ocean and the gentle waves washing up against the pale sands of Arcadia Bay’s shores. “Can’t decide if it’s beautiful or the most boring shit I’ve ever seen, to be honest… What d’ya think, huh?”, he raised his eyebrows, peeking down at Chestnut yelping next to him, and giving her a loving scratch behind the ears. “Come, check this out”, he beckoned to the visitors plaque next to them with his chin, patting Chestnut’s side gently as he stepped up to the laminated board, full of colorful images of the local wildlife and the town’s various attractions. 

“Yeah? That’s where you wanna go?”, he laughed, as Chestnut suddenly stood up on her rear legs, front paws propped against the plaque, curious golden eyes fixated on the picture of Arcadia Bay’s imposing lighthouse. “Y’know what, why the fuck not, we got all the time in the world… At least ‘til next Wednesday'' Sean sighed, looking up from the slightly faded photograph to the actual lighthouse in the distance, peeking out from countless majestic pine trees, its bright, white light rotating with a slow and steady speed on the opposite end of the bay on top of a cliff.

There was something strange, something unsettling about the tall, robust tower that Sean couldn’t exactly put his finger on. He found himself staring at the lighthouse as if it held all the secrets, all the answers to all the questions he’s been searching for all his life - he couldn’t move, he couldn’t blink, he couldn’t even catch his breath for what felt like an eternity, even though it was but a mere moment. As if something was calling him, an invisible, eerie force locking his eyes on the lighthouse, Sean just stood there petrified, and if it wasn’t for Chestnut and her eager little woof startling him back to reality, he probably would’ve stayed there like that until sunset.

“Yeah, why the fuck not”, he murmured under his nose, shaking his head like he just woke from a weird dream as he turned away from Arcadia Bay and walked up to his car, trying to ignore the uncanny tingling in the back of his head - and the unmistakable feeling of being watched by a pair of all-seeing, otherworldly eyes.

*

It took surprisingly long to get to the other side of the bay from Otter Point. By the time Sean reached the lighthouse, the sun was high in the spotless blue sky, radiating its warm light so dazzlingly he had to shield his eyes with his hand as he exited the car. He parked the station wagon in a small clearing surrounded by fragrant, sky-high pine trees, at the bottom of a meandrous set of wooden stairs half-eaten by the soil, and began his short hike up to the lighthouse with Chestnut trotting by his side. The forest around them was peaceful and bustling with cheerful and welcoming Spring life; they saw busy bees and chirping birds and dancing butterflies everywhere as they made their way uphill, following the glimmering sunspots on the ground.

“Alright, same rules apply, okay? No running along the edge, it’s rocky down there”, said Sean when they reached the top of the stairs, grabbing Chestnut’s collar the very last minute before the pup could just storm off to explore the uncharted territory. “Stay… Staaay…”, he raised his eyebrows as the pup looked up at him with giant eyes full of excited sparkles, wagging her tail like the clearing in front of her was the last one on Earth to roam.  “Good girl. Run along now, but carefully, please”, he said after a moment or two, as he let go of Chestnut, watching her dart off as a fired arrow with a proud, fatherly smile on his face before following the pup to the clearing.

The lighthouse stood tall on the edge of the cliff, watching over Arcadia Bay like a robust, all-seeing guardian. Seeing the tower up close, Sean felt the same magnetic energy that practically hypnotized him from all the way across the bay, only this time, he felt it ten folds stronger, as he stood there and stared at the lighthouse, tilting his head back as much as he could to take in the breathtaking sight in all its mesmerizing entirety. It felt like he arrived in another dimension where time didn’t work as it did on his own; as if a heavy, velvety curtain fell on the world, closing around the cliff and creating an odd, languid void where the pace of time just wasn’t the same. It was quiet, yes, peaceful, even, but at the same time, the air was strangely disturbed, unsettling and mysterious - and eerily inviting.

After what felt like half a lifetime of staring at the lighthouse, Sean noticed a worn bench on the edge of the cliff. He watched Chestnut sweep across the clearing, very much occupied with chasing something that looked like an azure-blue butterfly at first glance, before walking up to the bench and sitting down on it, turning his gaze towards the magnificent view of the bay below him as he reached for his cigarette case in his pocket. With the first puff of bitter smoke, he closed his eyes, and for a while, he just listened to the waves crashing against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff and the squawking of a few stray seagulls circling around the lantern room, before bringing himself to unzip his backpack and pull out his tablet and sketchbook from the messy depths of it.

He only hesitated for a brief moment before he put the tablet back in his bag, and along with it, his deadlines and professional responsibilities, settling with his trusted sketchbook instead. He preferred drawing on actual paper with an actual pen anyway, and he felt like procrastinating a little before letting his work swallow him in one bite. Flipping through dozens of pages of unfinished drawings until he finally reached a blank page, Sean started sketching Arcadia Bay with strainless ease, his eye constantly moving back and forth between the sketchbook and the view until the chaos of thin, black lines started to come together and he didn’t have to look anymore.

And this is when the time truly stopped around him, as it always did when Sean took the pen. It was just him and his vision of the world under the sun, and of course, Chestnut running around the clearing, her lanky, brown form always somewhere in the corner of his eye. 

“You’re really pressed about this butterfly, aren’t you”, he chuckled as Chestnut ran across his feet relentlessly, making Sean look up from the content little wolf he’s been sketching for a while without even realizing that he started adding it to the drawing. He didn’t even notice anymore, since this was the case with many, if not most of his drawings - as if he was physically incapable of finishing a drawing without wolves in it, or for that matter, drawing for someone who wasn’t his brother. 

“I mean, it’s a pretty fucking stunning butterfly if you ask me”, answered a mischievous voice beside him, completely out of the blue, startling Sean so unexpectedly that he almost fell off the bench.

“De puta madr-!!”, he exclaimed in fright as he turned his head, and the next moment, he found himself staring at a young, slim girl, leaning against the crooked fence on the edge of the cliff. “I mean, ugh  Jesus. Sorry, I didn’t see you there” he added quickly, clearing his throat as he looked the girl up and down, wondering how long has it been since she got there - and most importantly, how in the world didn’t he notice her when she arrived. 

“It’s kinda rare that anyone does, to be honest” shrugged the girl, stepping away from the fence, piercing blue eyes shifting from Sean’s colorless face to the sketchbook in his lap. She was tall and slender, wearing ripped jeans with a leather jacket and a black beanie, electric blue hair framing her narrow, elfish face. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties, maybe, and even though Sean was certain he’s never seen her before, somehow it felt like he’s known the girl for his entire life. “What are you drawing? Can I see?”

“Sure, take a look” he said, scooting over a little so the girl could sit next to her. “It’s a… I don’t even know what, that started off as a landscape sketch” he explained, scratching the inner corner of his empty eye socket and suddenly wishing he put on his eyepatch before coming up to the lighthouse. The girl, however, was way too invested in his sketchbook to even notice that there was something unusual about his appearance, and even if she did, she didn’t seem to be taken aback by it - or at least she didn’t feel the urge to stare, unlike most people Sean has met throughout his life.

“This is really cool, dude” the girl said after a while, looking up at him with a wide, impressed grin before turning her gaze back to Sean’s drawing. “Are you like, an artist or something?”

“Artist is an overstatement but yeah, I draw comics for a living” Sean answered, reaching out for Chestnut when he noticed the pup is running towards him. “This one isn’t for work though. It’s a… Gift. For my brother”, he added, his smile suddenly fading with the words, and not returning even when Chestnut wriggled her way in between his legs and placed her head in his lap, staring up at him with giant puppy eyes. 

“Something gives me the impression that he’s the small one”, the girl chuckled, pointing at the younger wolf on Sean’s drawing, chasing a butterfly on the edge of the cliffside looking over Arcadia Bay, next to his bigger, scruffier, one-eyed brother, relaxing under a pine tree.

“I have no idea what makes you say that” said Sean with a faint smile on his face, gently fondling Chestnut’s head in his lap. “The older I get, the more it feels like it’s the other way around, to be honest”, he sighed quietly, feeling his entire chest harden all of a sudden as he took a glance at his sketchbook between the long nails of the strange girl next to her.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” asked the girl bluntly the next moment, carefully closing Sean’s sketchbook and putting it between them on the bench. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in Arcadia Bay before, and that’s pretty shocking considering that we’re talking about a town of 200 people where nothing ever happens…”

“Yeah, I’m just traveling. Thought I’d drive through town and check out the view from here” Sean answered, and as he pulled out another cigarette from his pocket, he couldn’t help but notice the sudden sparks of longing in the girl’s eyes. “You want one?”

“Not gonna lie, I could kill for a smoke… But no thanks. I… Can’t”, the girl gulped, watching with eager eyes as Sean reluctantly put the cigarette in his mouth. “Oh, no, it’s okay, I don’t mind. The smell’s gonna do the trick” she said, exhaling the smoke of the first huff with a strange, almost euphoric smile as Sean lit his cigarette at last.

“Oh man… You got some superior shit right there” she said, her smile slowly growing into a content, wide grin. “But anyway… As much as Arcadia Bay is the most boring shithole in the whole wide world, I hope your trip was worth it in the end.”

“Sounds like you lived here for a while, huh?”, Sean asked, eyebrows raised, to which the girl let out a sarcastic snort. “Oof. That bad?”

“There are no words to describe just how bad, my dude” the girl answered, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around her long legs pulled up to her chest. “I’ve been stuck here my whole fucking life. Wanted to leave since I was fourteen” she continued, the playful cheer suddenly leaving her voice and leaving behind gloomy shadows on her face. “Should’ve gotten the fuck outta here the first chance I got”, she said sourly, planting her chin between her knees and staring blankly in the distance, to a faraway place Sean couldn’t follow her to - and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to.

“So why didn’t you?”, Sean blurted out before thinking twice, but before he could even think of a way to apologize for possibly having crossed a line, the girl laughed out loud and dry.

“Have a wild guess, dude. ‘Cause of love, of course”, she snorted again, only this time, sarcasm was replaced with something much darker in her tone. “I was just waiting for the right time y’know. Back then, I had no idea that no such thing exists. Not for anything, not for anyone. There is just you and time, and time is nothing but a massive fucking trap, waiting for you to get stuck in it” she said, eyes darker than the coldest nights of winter. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to explode like that.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything”, Sean shook his head, placing his burnt-out cigarette butt under the bench next to the previous one. “I’m just not sure I get what you mean.”

“No worries, I wouldn’t expect you to get it anyway” the girl shrugged, and the next moment, she turned her gaze to Sean, all-seeing blue eyes staring right into his soul. “You know, people hardly ever come to the lighthouse anymore, except when they should be somewhere else. And even if they come, they barely notice me. It’s nice that you did. And that you listened, too. I’m not sure where you’re supposed to be now, but I’m glad you’re here” she smiled, patting Sean’s hand with a surprisingly cold palm briefly, retreating almost immediately as he shuddered next to her.

“Yeah, I’m glad I took a little detour too” he smiled back at the girl before his glance wandered off to his sketchbook lying between them on the bench. “But I think I should get going now. I’d love to stay and chat, but… I’m ridiculously late already”, he added, a concerned frown taking over the upper half of his face, and a bewildered grin the lower, as somehow, at that moment, he realized there’s a chance that perhaps he has given into the nonsense of his own depression slightly more than he should have in the first place. 

“Yeah, you probably are”, said the girl with a playful wink, standing up from the bench and stretching her long arms above her head. “Man, what a spectacular fucking afternoon. I mean, look at the Sun. Such a radiant bitch boss, for real”, she declared lovingly, making Sean laugh out loud for the first time in the past few days, or even weeks, maybe.

“Need a lift?”, Sean asked the girl as they turned their backs on the lighthouse, and started walking towards the staircase leading to the small clearing at the bottom of the cliff. 

“Nah, thanks, but I’m not done here yet”, the girl said, shoving both her hands in the pockets of her skinny jeans. “Got some wandering to do, y’know… Contemplating the beauty of Spring and all” she looked at him with a somewhat shy smile, and Sean decided not to risk crossing any more lines with any more questions. 

“I guess this is where we part ways then” he nodded his head when they reached his station wagon, waiting patiently next to the tourist map of the cliff. “Enjoy contemplating the beauty of Spring, I guess?”, he smiled at the girl, opening the door of the passenger’s seat for Chestnut.

“Yeah, thanks, man. You take care too, okay?” answered the girl, and the next moment, before Sean could say anything, her eyes suddenly widened. “And don’t forget to sketch up a cool portrait of me or something if you got the time, will you?”

“Stop reading my mind, a’ight?” Sean laughed, waving at the girl before sitting in his car, a sudden burst of energy washing over him as the door closed behind him. The urge to drive as fast as he just can was stronger than he’s ever felt it before, but somehow, he managed to control it, closing his eyes and leaning back on his seat for a long, silent moment before reaching for his phone. Swiping away dozens of notifications, he then opened his contacts and pressed call on the first name on top of the list - the only number he’s ever called, really. 

The ringing stopped right after he pressed his phone between his ear and shoulder, and turned the car key under the steering wheel. 

“Hey enano. I’m on my way.”

*

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hey! Thank you for reading! ❤

This short story is my contribution to a Christmas Short Story Exchange we did with my best friends. (It is also my first ever fanfiction in English!) I was writing for one of my best friends who got me into Life is Strange years ago, so when we pulled each other’s names and I found out I’m writing for her, I immediately knew that I’ll work with the Diaz brothers and Chloe. 

2020 Christmas Short Story Exchange Word count: 5353 | Written December 22nd-27th. I’m on AO3 now! Head over for more fanfictions. ❤

[onewaigu]

Like Magic

Genre : predebut!au

Theme : mild fluff(?)

Pairing : Bang Chan X Reader (not really)

Description : all you knew was that every time you took the no. 4419 bus back home, he would always be there, cladded in all-black, sitting exactly two rows in front of you. that was, until he no longer rode the bus.

“Right on time”, you said to yourself as your eyes followed a boy, probably a few years older than you, boarding the same no. 4419 bus.

No, you weren't a creepy stalker. No, you were simply an observant person and for some apparent reason, this boy had always caught your eyes for as long as you had been taking this bus back home from school.

How could anyone not take notice of him? The boy practically stuck out like a sore thumb. He was always wearing black everything. Except for his chains.

“Bet his wardrobe looks like an empty void”, you chuckled at the thought.

He exuded a mysterious yet intriguing aura. Something that certainly pulled you in.

Like always, his stop was a stop before yours and the bus journey usually took about half an hour to get there. Any person would've taken the opportunity to steal a quick nap but, he wasn't any person.

He would usually take out his laptop or launchpad before slipping on headphones. With the noise from outside world muted, his fingers would begin to move meticulously and rhythmically to whatever beat he was making.

You for one, somehow had missed the memo since birth of being naturally talented in music. While your family played their respective instruments, the only music you had ever made naturally would be the sound of unpleasant snoring. Despite your lack of musical consciousness, you were always interested in music.

You admired how the back of his head stood still, concentrating hard to find the right pitches.

The little curls at the nape of his neck would slightly bounce whenever the bus hit a bump. Cute.

Sometimes when he seemed to be in his zone, the music he made could be heard. You were interested in his diverse taste in music genres. You wanted to know more. Who were his favourite artists? Did he upload any of the songs he made online? Was he planning on becoming an artist? So many questions but you felt that the chances of you actually having a conversation with him was little to none.

You sighed, letting your eyes close till you reached your stop.

The next day though, was a little bit different than ordinary.

No. 4419 bus was almost packed. The bus before had broken down so the passengers transferred buses. Luckily for you, you managed to catch a seat, with an empty one beside you.

You sat there in silence, taking in the view of the busy streets of Seoul through the bus window. The day was fairly cold as the year approached its end so the windows were slightly frosted.

The kid in you convinced yourself to draw little stick figures on them as a way to pass time. You were busy perfecting the stick figures' hair when you heard someone coughed beside you. You turned your head to the sound of it, only to be staring at a pair of beautiful dark brown eyes. Oh. It's him. It's the mysterious Beethoven. He was sitting next to you. Oh.

“Nice drawing you got there”, he smiled widely. At that moment, you saw them— chin dimples. He had adorable chin dimples. You swore your heart skipped a beat. You were a sucker for dimples and him having them was just perfect.

“Uh, it's n-nothing”

“It's just..water and..science?”, you mentally face-palmed at your own dumb reply. Way to go, Y/N.

“Well water scientist, my name's Chris”

There it was. He had an accent. A nice accent at that.

“Y/N”

Then came awkward silence. You weren't a social butterfly so that would explain why you were more of the observing type. However, the silence didn't last long cause Chris decided that he wanted to share some demos he made with you. He wanted an unbiased opinion on them hence you were the perfect candidate. You didn't mind at all. Truthfully, you couldn't believe that any of this was happening. Just the day before, you were wondering about his musical preferences. The next thing you knew, you were sharing an airpod with him, listening to one of his original works. How convenient.

After that day, you somehow became his unofficial critic on every single bus ride. Even though you were sometimes exhausted from school, you didn't show it in front of Chris. You didn't want to ruin the look he always had whenever he talked about his passion in music. His face would lit up like Christmas lights and you would always listen intently. Seeing him in his happy place warmed your heart. Maybe a little too much.

Days gone by and the both of you were still at it with the same routine. Only difference was, Chris seemed like he had something on his mind. It might not be something necessarily bad but you wanted to make sure he was okay. But every time you tried to poke something out of him, he would shrug it off.

“You worry too much, Y/N”, his shoulder nudged yours playfully.

You could only smile at his words. You hoped that whatever he's going through, he'd be okay eventually.

You weren't okay. You were worried. For the past few weeks, you didn't see Chris boarding the usual no. 4419 bus. The first week, you thought that maybe he was ill. The second week, you thought that maybe he felt like taking the train. The weeks after, you gave up thinking of possibilities.

You sighed.

What went wrong? The moments you spent with Chris were the best moments of your 19-year-old life, even if they were as long as a bus journey back home. Chris was talented, passionate, dorky, and endearing. He made you feel things that you weren't aware of. And now he's gone.

“Poof, like magic”, you scoffed.

Was it real or just a dream? Either way, you missed it.

[a/n]

i'm sorry if this story makes no sense > < basically Chan disappeared bcos the boys were preparing for their survival show :'(

(gif credits to yunhoed)

- i'm still not sure if i credited correctly so if i didn't, pls tell me so i can give proper credits

[elisaphoenix13]

Against All Odds (Ch. 11)

Christmas day came on fast. It was just like every morning since Quill brought him to his house, the storm blowing just as loud and hard as it was almost a week ago, and Scott wondered how long the storm was going to last. Six days had to be a record, and it was a miracle the streets weren't flooded. It was an even bigger one when Quill's neighborhood continued to have power. Quill took Scott home yesterday to grab some clean clothes and whatever else he might need, and the house was still as cold as they left it. Still no power.

Scott couldn't stay at Quill's forever though. He would have to go back home whether the power was back on or not and he wasn't looking forward to sleeping in an icebox again and going hungry. He was going to enjoy every moment he could with hot food and his own personal teddy bear. That's what Quill was after all, and it took staying the past few days at his house for Scott to discover that. He might be big and intimidating, but Quill was just a big softy toward those he cared about. Scott started to accept the fact that he was one of those people.

It was still a foreign concept, but Quill and Stephen were consistent enough that Scott allowed himself to start feeling less invisible.

At least when he didn't wake up with the comforter over his entire body. Scott was still curled up to Quill's side and using his shoulder as a pillow, but the older teen must have decided that Scott wasn't warm enough and brought the comforter up over his head. Considering Quill was a living, breathing heater though, Scott had to push the blanket down to get some cooler air before he suffocated. In fact, he needed a few seconds away from his boyfriend's heat and rolled away to cool down...only to have Quill growl and pull him back. Scott wasn't bothered with being pulled back against Quill, but the growl was weird. It was deep, possessive, and it sounded strange. Ethereal if he had to describe it.

Scott had to beat down his arousal before it made itself known. "Q-Quill...let go."

Instant release. The arm Quill had around Scott's back loosened, and the younger took the opportunity to roll away from him and bury his face into his cool, unused pillow. The moment he started to cool down, Scott fell back asleep again for another hour or so, and was woken up by Quill placing soft kisses on the exposed parts of his neck.

"Hnnnn...five more minutes." Scott mumbles and Quill chuckles.

"You do realize it's Christmas right?"

"So what? Wanna sleep." The younger grunts out. "You go on ahead."

"Alright, alright." Quill places one more kiss on the back of his neck, and then rolls out of bed. "I'll head down first. Take your extra five minutes then come eat."

Quill leaves the bedroom and Scott exhales heavily as soon as the door closes. Good. Quill would spend time with his family and do what they usually did on Christmas, and Scott would stay upstairs and be quiet as a mouse. He took his extra five minutes in bed, but then he got bored and couldn't fall asleep, so he crawled out of bed and sat at Quill's desk. With care, he put on the walkman headphones and started to doodle on a piece of paper as he listened to the mixtape, and he ended up grabbing another pencil to tap it against the desk as he drew.

Christmas didn't mean anything to him. It was just another day he spent at home keeping himself busy, but since he wasn't home he had to make do with what Quill had in his room. He could doodle, watch TV or a movie, or he could read. Scott was pretty sure he saw a book or two in Quill's room. He was content to draw for now though. His only problem was how he was going to eat. At home he would just go downstairs and eat whenever, but he wasn't home and he didn't want to disturb Quill and his family.

He would just have to go without today.

"SCOTT!" Said teen jumps at the sudden yell and he pulls off the headphones to let them rest around his neck as he looks over at Quill. "What are you still doing up here?"

"Um…" Scott watches as Quill walks over to stop the music and take the headphones off of him completely to return to the walkman sitting on his desk. "I was keeping myself busy."

"Keeping yourself…?" Quill furrows his brows in confusion. "It's Christmas."

"Yeah...I know." Scott turns back to his awful drawing to continue scribbling a tree into the background.

Quill seemed to understand that Scott was happy to stay up in the room as he walked away and left him to his drawing, but just as the younger was going to start up some music again, the bedroom door opened again. Did the older teen abandon time with his family so Scott wouldn't be alone? That wasn't right. Besides his grandfather, Quill didn't see his family very often and Scott didn't want to take away from that any more than he had. Just as he was about to turn his head to tell Quill to spend time with his family, the older teen set a small flat box, wrapped in brightly colored paper, on top of Scott's crudely drawn landscape.

"What's this?" Scott asks carefully.

"A Christmas present. For you." Quill answers and his eyes widen in surprise when Scott pushes away from the desk and makes his chair roll back.

"No!"

"What the hell? No?"

"I can't accept that!" Scott stammers.

"Why the fuck not?" Quill asks with some disappointment.

"I wasn't expecting anything and I didn't get anything for you! I can't even afford to! You and your family--"

"Scott."

"--have done way more than enough for me and I don't even deserve your kindness. I'm just an unfortunate guest--"

"Wow, you really do word vomit." The older teen whispers.

"--that you had to put up for a few days so I didn't freeze or starve to death. I promise I'll pay you guys back somehow once I get--mmph!"

Scott's rant was interrupted mid-sentence when Quill stepped closer to Scott, leaned down, and tilted the younger's head up by his chin to kiss him. Any further thought Scott had evaporated the moment he processed that Quill was kissing him, and he sat in stunned silence when his boyfriend finally pulled away. Was he breathing? No. He should probably do that.

"Merry Christmas to me." Quill says with a sly smirk and Scott blushes bright red. "I promise your gift to me is a lot better than what I got you, so will you please open it?"

"Okay." Scott wheezes out and accepts the small present that Quill grabs from the desk and hands to him.

He stared at the gift like it was going to bite him if he tried to open it, but he gathered himself after a few seconds and gently pulled at the ribbon to untie it and let it fall into his lap. The paper was next and got the same treatment as the ribbon, and then Scott opened the box to find two identical black woven bracelets. One just a little bigger than the other. Quill grabs the smaller one and silently asks for Scott's arm once he crouches down, and Scott holds up his left arm and watches him snap it onto his wrist. He then takes the second one and places it on his own (left) wrist and then looks up at Scott with a raised eyebrow.

"Like I said, it's not much and I know this relationship is kind of new, but it can still be a friendship bracelet--wow...that sounded so much better in my head." Quill says with a short. "I just thought of you when I saw them and I had a feeling you've never gotten a gift before, so I got them."

Quill thought of him. He saw a matching pair of woven bracelets and thought of him. That was the greatest gift Quill could have given him, even if he never bought the bands...and stealing a kiss from Scott was Quill's Christmas present from him? Scott could do better than that. He hoped.

He shoves the remains of the wrappings off of his lap, slides off the chair into Quill's lap, and grips the older teen's hair before kissing him. He didn't care that he was inexperienced and was probably going about this all wrong, but it didn't matter once Quill took control of the kiss. One of his hands gripped the back of Scott's neck, and the other landed at the small of his back to bring him even closer as he gently bit Scott's lower lip, and then he suddenly had Quill's tongue in his mouth. Merry Christmas to Scott.

He even tasted like cinnamon.

"Fuck, you even taste like mint and oranges." Quill groans into his mouth, and then tilts Scott's head back to nibble on his pulse point.

He wanted more. He wanted to be held tighter and turn into a puddle of goo for Quill to do whatever he wanted with, because this much touch and affection was overwhelming. Overwhelming and amazing, and Scott was drinking it in like he was dehydrated. When he whimpered after Quill pulled away from his neck with a pop, the older teen groaned and Scott had to keep himself from getting too excited. Quill brought his head back down to return his attention to Scott's mouth, and this time he tried to reciprocate the kiss. Scott had no intention to fight for dominance, he just wanted to taste the cinnamon in every corner of his boyfriend's mouth.

Even if that meant sucking on his tongue...but Quill beat him to it. He sucked and sucked until Scott was sure his tongue was going to be detached from his mouth, and then Quill finally stopped. He gently nipped and pulled at Scott's lower lip again as he pulled away and then rested his forehead against Scott's as they both worked on catching their breath.

"If we go any further, things might get awkward." Quill gasps out and Scott catches another flash in his eyes when he manages to sputter out a laugh. "That was only half of your present by the way."

Scott blinks at him once he moves his head away a bit. "There's more?"

"Yup. This is something you need too."

Scott tilts his head in curiosity after Quill lifts him off his lap and onto the floor, and the older teen gets up and walks over to his closet door. It was a small walk-in, so Quill disappeared into it for a second, but when he came out, he was holding a teddy bear that was a little over half Scott's size. The younger teen stares at the stuffed animal once Quill places it on the ground in front of him and then reaches out to touch the soft material of the fur.

"Hold on. Something's missing." Quill states as he scrutinizes the bear. "Wait. I got it." He disappears into his closet again, brings out a black sweater, and puts it on the bear. "There. Now you have something to cuddle when I can't be there to do it myself."

Scott grabs the bear and pulls it closer to him to look over and he runs his hands over the soft fur. At least what wasn't covered by Quill's sweater. The teddy bear was an overwhelming gift in a different way. A good way. Scott never had a Christmas before, and he never had a stuffed animal either. Today, Quill gave him both and Scott could only wrap his arms around the stuffed toy and bury his face into it and try to hold his tears back. He almost failed when he smelled cinnamon on the bear.

"You like it?" Quill asks nervously. "I know your gifts are kind of dumb…"

"No. They're great. I really do need the bear." Scott mumbles against the stuffed animal.

"Good. Now how about you put it aside for now and come downstairs with me? We'll male you some hot apple cider and you can have cookies and chocolate for breakfast if you want." The older teen holds out his hand and Scott looks up from his bear at it.

"I don't want to intrude on your time with your family."

"Even when they're asking where you are? Besides, I'm pretty sure there are a couple more presents waiting downstairs for you."

Scott looks at Quill in surprise when he mentions the gifts and takes his hand to allow his boyfriend to pull him to his feet. The younger sets his teddy bear next to his side of the bear before following Quill to the bedroom door, and then squeaks when the older teen stops him long enough for another kiss. Scott follows Quill in a daze after he moves away and opens the door, and they walk down the hall and then the stairs to the kitchen. There, Sophie makes him some cider and sends him into the living room where all of the cookies and sweets are, and Scott stops in the entryway.

The living room was decorated for Christmas, and that wasn't even including the tree in the corner near the window. Scott never got to enjoy a Christmas tree before, and when he stepped closer, he found that it was real and could smell the pine. They were definitely nicer in person than what he saw in the movies.

"You act like you've never seen a Christmas tree before." One of Quill's cousins say from the couch (Scott couldn't recall his name).

"Not a real one. Not in person." Scott replies quietly.

"Guess your parents don't take the time to get a real one. You have one of those fake ones?"

"Uh...yeah." Scott lies as he sits as far from the family as possible to enjoy his cider.

Even if this wasn't his family, it was nice watching them interact while they exchanged gifts, and Scott thoroughly enjoyed the cookies another one of the family members had made. Halfway through his second helping of cider (that Sophie had kindly topped off for him), Scott grunts out in surprise when something heavy lands in his lap. He coughs as he pulls the mug away from his mouth and looks down in his lap to find another colorfully wrapped gift waiting to be opened.

Quill returns to his side with his own gift and points to the present in Scott's lap. "That's from Stephen. I already opened mine from him. Lots of cinnamon candy and a dictionary. I'm pretty sure the dictionary was a funny insult."

"I think he gave me bricks." Scott wheezes out, and Quill sniggers as he takes the younger's mug so he can open the present.

It wasn't bricks. It was a box of Capri Suns, a couple of books, and a couple bags of orange slice candies. When Scott dug a little deeper into the box, he found a first aid kit as well, and he huffed in both appreciation and annoyance. He was prone to getting sick, not busting his head open. Knowing his luck though, he would need it eventually, and Stephen was just three steps ahead like always.

"Here I thought orange juice was the reason you taste like oranges." Quill mutters just loud enough for only Scott to hear and the younger teen blushes.

"You still have to figure out why I taste like mint." Scott mutters back, blushing even more when he realized he had just flirted with Quill.

"I'm always up for a challenge. Especially when it comes to you."