#thank god i had other band friends i could just word vomit about this too at the time lol

[pants-lint]

Just had a Thought and now I'm curious. What's you guy's strangest comfort media? It doesn't have to be strange as in like creepy/fucked up/whatever, it can just be smthn a lil odd.

[anticomedygarden]

solangelo marching band au part 3

epilogue

part 1 | 2 | ao3

so. it's been a bit longer than i thought it would be. but here it is. and it's about 3k more words than i thought it would be.

thanks to everyone who stuck this little au out until the end! and thanks for all the sweet comments and replies! y'all are awesome

tw brief mention of vomitting starts at, "He wasn't sure where they were when Will, holding the band at attention…" and ends at, "Horrible and disgusting incident avoided…"

-

One year later

Nico was sleeping soundly for once when his alarm went off at 3:30 in the goddamn morning, a criminal hour to wake up at if he did say so himself.

He was just contemplating what would happen if he stayed in bed when someone started banging on his door. "Nico! Get up! Will's gonna be here in a half hour!"

He got up.

It was still fucking night outside, so he stumbled around in the dark gathering clothes and his phone, keys, and wallet. Fortunately, he showered the night before, so he just changed in the bathroom and brushed his teeth, then went into the kitchen to make some cereal.

Hazel was already there, having gotten up before him. With dark circles under her eyes and a deadened expression, she didn't look much better than him. "Good morning."

Nico grumbled.

"Same."

And that was that.

Twenty minutes later, they were standing on the street outside their dad's house, and it was still fucking black as pitch outside and probably would be for another four hours or so. Next to him, Hazel was shivering slightly in her band tee and thermal undershirt.

Thankfully, that was when Will's old black Toyota Camry pulled around the corner, only seen by the headlights blaring out across the pavement.

Nico and Hazel walked down to the car and slid in, Nico into the passenger seat and Hazel into the back.

"Good morning," Will said, sounding more than a little groggy. The blond may have been more of a morning person than Nico, but he was very very diurnal. Only awake with the sun. The blond took a long sip from a McDonald's coffee cup before setting it in the cup holder. "How'd you sleep?"

A grumbled non-reply from both siblings was all the answer he needed.

"Me, too."

They drove in silence for a couple blocks. Then Will turned his head to look at Nico and seemed to do a double take. "What are you-stop drinking my coffee!"

"But I'm tired, and it's cold," Nico said as he finished his sip. "And my boyfriend didn't get me one."

Will turned to look at him for as long as it was safe while driving in the dark, mouth agape. "You don't even like coffee!"

Nico grinned into the cup. "It's four in the morning. Everyone likes coffee at four in the morning."

"I don't," Hazel said helpfully from the back. "But I wouldn't say no to some sweet tea."

Will groaned, a sound so full of longing that Nico would've believed he was dying of starvation had he not been able to see him. "God, I would kill for a good sweet tea right now."

"You two are so Southern," Nico said, though honestly his heart was warmed by the little exchange. He was glad that his boyfriend and sister could bond over something, even if it did make his heart ache for Italy a little.

"Yeah, yeah. You're just jealous that you've never tasted real Southern sweet tea," Will said, smiling. When Nico grumbled at him, he added, "Don't worry. We'll get you some this summer."

Right, because he was spending two weeks at the Solace family farm in June to meet his boyfriend's family before starting NRU in the fall. He was actually looking forward to it a lot despite the nerves. From what he'd heard, the Solaces were more like the Jacksons than any of his other friend's living parents, but still. It was going to be a lot. But for Will, he could do it. Maybe. Probably.

As they came up the hill to the school, Will spoke again. "Just out of curiosity, when did you go to bed last night?"

Nico's eyes widened. "Midnight," he said hesitantly. He hadn't done that on purpose, but seriously. What high schooler went to bed before midnight on a Friday night? Even the ones with a 4:15 a.m. call time?

Will's eyes swiveled to him. "That was four hours ago."

"Just be glad I went to bed at all." The last three years, he'd stayed up all night and slept on the bus which made last year's events all the more impressive. This year, he'd surely be more awake.

"Jesus christ," Will muttered, turning the car into the school parking lot. It was already about a fourth of the way full with band kids, so Will slid into a spot a few rows back. "That's not enough sleep."

"Yeah, Mr. I-probably-went-to-bed-at-seven-thirty-to-get-a-full-eight-hours."

Will's cheeks turned bright red. "That's not something to be ashamed of."

This time, even Hazel giggled from the back seat. "Yes, it is."

Will was still grumbling under his breath when they got out of the car and went into the band room. Inside, there were several teenagers ambling around, many of them practically sleepwalking. There were even a couple actually asleep in their chairs and at least one color guard member asleep under a flag silk. Nico was instantly jealous, even though he knew those silks were thin as fuck.

Will and Hazel went to their chairs at the front of the room because those overachievers were drum majors now, and Nico went to get his trombone from the instrument closet and set it by the door so that it was ready for the cargo drivers. When he came back, his uniform bag was already draped over the back of his chair. He frowned, then looked over at Will's spot to see his boyfriend smiling at him. Seeing Nico's eyes, Will cupped one hand in a half heart. In a moment of extreme sleep deprivation, Nico returned it.

More people continued to stream in as call time drew nearer, but Nico curled up on his chair and let his eyes close, at least until his phone buzzed in his pocket.

More than a little dazed, he blinked at Jason's contact.

Jason

Don't forget to go to the bathroom before you get on the bus

Nico closed his eyes and counted to ten.

Nico

did you really just get up to text me that

Without waiting for a response, he closed his eyes, then gave an annoyed curse as he opened them again and got up to go to the bathroom.

On his way back to the band room, he received a response from Jason that confirmed that, yes, he had gotten up specifically to text Nico to go pee. Good lord.

By the time he walked through the doors, it seemed most of the rest of the band had shown up, and Nico had to fight his way to his seat. A few minutes later, Will stood on his chair and blew his whistle to signal call time which meant Nico had 15 minutes to sit in his chair until they had to get on the buses, and that was exactly what he did. Sometime later, he vaguely registered the cargo guys coming in to put all their instruments in the storage truck and then the yellow buses pulling up outside the window.

When 4:30 rolled around, most everybody was ready in their chairs. Chiron, also suffering in a bright orange t-shirt and too little sleep, stepped up to the director's stand and said, "Buses are here! Let's go."

There was a collective groan as everybody stood up, rustling their uniform bags and clomping for the doors. Of course, as a low brass player, Nico was in the back. Hopefully Will got them a good spot.

Eventually, he made it outside into the cool night air, still behind the mob of orange t-shirts. Being the only people out at this time in their little bubble of lights, they cut a funny and kind of eerie sight, but Nico was too groggy to ponder that, so he instead followed the other seniors to the bus and found Will in a seat toward the middle back. He didn't even say hello, just threw his uniform bag on the floor and curled up on the seat with his head in Will's lap. The blond chuckled above him. "Sure, go ahead and take a nap. I'll wake you up for breakfast."

Without further ado, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Five months ago

Nico's dress pants crinkled uncomfortably on the metal folding chair beneath him as sweat dripped down his face, and he worried how he would play his trombone with the salty liquid in his mouth.

He ran out of time to figure it out, though, as the principal finished talking and started announcing names. In front of the band, the sun shining behind him, Chiron stepped onto the podium, raised his hands, and began conducting. Nico lifted his trombone to his mouth, then put it back down when he realized he had a long rest. The rest of the band dropped into pomp and circumstance, tucked away on the side of the football field.

The first few names, Nico didn't know, which meant they must've not been in band. They were barely through all of the B names when his rest was up, so, once again, he picked up his trombone and prepared to play. They hadn't practiced pomp and circumstance much in class, but this was his third time performing it, and it was an easy piece; he let his mind wander.

Somewhere out on the field, his friends were preparing to graduate in their caps and gowns, Jason, class president, preparing to give a speech to the crowd to say goodbye and send them off to the next big adventure, or whatever other euphemism he had chosen for his speech, and Nico was stuck behind a big yellow goalpost, literally on the sidelines.

It was a lot. Nico might even admit to having cried about it. But for once, he'd cried in the comfort of someone's arms, someone who wasn't about to leave him.

The song came back around to the beginning, and Nico let his trombone drop back to his knee. Over the years, the band had picked up the habit of clapping for each walking band member when they were resting, and this year was no different. As the flutes in the front row continued the melody, Nico listened for names he recognized. It would still be a while before any of his friends were called, though.

Unfortunately, that meant he stopped playing just as Octavian's name was called. He barely kept a boo from slipping out of his mouth, but when the freshman next to him - Macy, a strange coincidence - raised her hands to clap, he didn't refrain from lightly touching her arm and saying, "Don't clap for him, he sucks."

It was truly a testament to how much he'd grown into the section leader role (or how gullible freshmen were) that she nodded without question. He may have grinned a little.

Soon, the rest ended, and he was back in pomp and circumstance. The alphabet continued to pass, too, until Hannah Garrison was being called and eventually Jason Grace, met with the raucous sound of trumpet and drumline applause (plus some others that were definitely supposed to be playing) but which Nico only acknowledged with a huff into his mouthpiece and a stutter on his slide. He would feel that one later.

More names, more music. He was still playing when the Ms rolled around, and was thus able to pointedly ignore the announcement of Piper McLean, but his trombone wasn't up when the Rs started.

No, and he quickly realized it was much harder to ignore his feelings when there was nothing else to focus on, nothing but the pressing call of Reyna Ramirez-Arellano, especially not when his entire section erupted into applause. He weakly clapped his hands together, still refusing to look up at the stage.

The next time he started playing again, it was dark outside of the football stadium, and he was horrified to realize that his hands were shaking. He didn't bother trying to play. With the way his embouchure refused to take shape, it would just come out all breathy, anyway.

Objectively, he knew that he was reacting far better than he would've last year, far better than did at Percy and Annabeth's graduation, before getting together with Will, but the knowledge didn't stop the pain. It wasn't as bad as it could've been, but he still hurt, still felt just a little abandoned. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about what the next school year would be like without the backdrop of his cousins, when all their major presences were gone and he didn't get to see them everyday. And it wasn't just them. There were so many other faces he would miss: Clarisse, the Stolls, Rachel. It wouldn't be the same without them.

Leo was the final straw.

When the drummer's name was announced, the pressure behind Nico's eyes burst, and tears started rolling down his face. Somehow, he kept his trombone up, though his hand quit moving the slide, and next to him, Macy shot over an anxious glance. There was nothing he could do to reassure her. He didn't even have enough remaining focus to be embarrassed.

100 feet away, the principal kept plodding along, steadily making it through the list of names until he finally got to the last one - Frank Zhang, of course - and Chiron led the band into the finale.

Thank god. Nico immediately took his trombone apart with the rest of the band and shoved it in his case under his seat, then sat back, rubbing his wet eyes.

The tears were still coming. He couldn't stop that. But the big black empty chasm that had nearly consumed him last year wasn't there. Last year, the abyss had taken hold of him and terrified him, and he'd run away to his dark bedroom to wallow in despair and shame. This year, he could make it through.

The principal got up to say another few words, then introduced Jason, class president and valedictorian. Damn overachiever.

Anyway.

From all the way over on the track, Nico couldn't see his face, or anything defining of his features at all really except a bit of his blond hair. He also couldn't hear him too well, which was probably for the best. Even so, his eyes were still wet when 500 hats flew up into the air, and everyone stood, clapping and yelling and hugging.

The band also got up with the crowd, following the audience to go congratulate their kids. Nico looked around for Hazel, but she was already halfway across the field with her tuba. That at least brought the smallest of smiles to his face.

Trombone case in hand, he almost went to follow her. Then he caught sight of Will walking toward him.

It was easy to fall into his boyfriend's arms, easier to stifle his coming sobs in Will's white button down. He only gave himself a few seconds, though, because there were people everywhere, and he actually wanted to spend time with his friends before breaking down for the night.

But later, after everyone had gone home and Nico was in the safety of Will's arms in his bedroom, he did cry, a lot, and probably came out the other side better for it.

Now

"Breakfast in five!" Mr. D shouted from the front of the bus. Unsurprisingly, he said nothing else before sitting back down.

Nico groaned and sat up, blinking the early dawn light out of his tired eyes. "You said you were gonna wake me up."

When he didn't get an answer, he shifted on the cracked leather seat to face Will and barked out a laugh. His boyfriend was fast asleep against the window.

He took a second to admire how his hair shimmered in the new light like a halo. He was not ashamed to admit that he snapped a picture, but right after that, he shook Will's shoulder and said, "Wake up, Sunshine."

For a moment, he didn't do anything. Then, his eyes fluttered open, and he groaned. "Time's'it?"

Nico laughed at his hair sticking up on the window side as Will sat up. "A little before six."

Will yawned and stretched. "That's too early."

"Agreed."

Now that he could see out the window, Nico spied the bus coming up on a rest stop, and he could see that the BPO had already set up white folding tables full of snacks and whatnot.

The sight gave him pause. On the one hand, he and Will had first gotten close at a rest stop, and he would forever be grateful for that. On the other hand. On the other hand. They had been stuck there for six hours, and he didn't exactly enjoy their final moments there.

Before he could sort out his feelings, someone toward the front of the bus said, "Is it just me, or does anyone else not want to stop?"

Laughter rang through the seats, and more than a few people vocally agreed.

"Yeah, we might get stuck all day this time," Nico said, only half kidding. Will snorted.

Despite the trauma of the seniors, the bus continued on into the rest stop and settled in next to the other three big yellow vehicles. Slowly, as some people were still waking up, they all ambled out into the parking lot, leaving uniform bags behind. Most stopped to stretch on the way to the breakfast table, but some made a B-line for the bathroom.

Nico and Will followed the other seniors to the food. Calling it breakfast, of course, was a bit of a misnomer. It was more a display of what truckers might buy from a gas station if they were trying to be healthy: granola bars, fruit snacks, browning fruit, cereal bars, chip bags, and, because they weren't monsters, some fun size pieces of candy. At the end of the table were coolers of soda and water. Nico grabbed a granola bar and a Reese's, forgoing the drinks in favor of not pissing himself in the middle of the parade. Behind him, Will grabbed a bag of Doritos, and they made their way over to an empty parking spot to stand and eat.

They didn't say anything, still groggy and eager to not be at a rest stop. A glance across the lot said most of the other seniors were in the same boat.

It was kinda funny to think that their entire graduating class in marching band had rest stop related trauma. Trauma bonding, and all that.

A couple parking spots away, he spotted Hazel standing with her junior friends. She waved to him, and he smiled back but continued to glance around nervously like one of the buses was about to start smoking or something.

Back in front of him, Will finished off his Doritos, crumpled up the bag, and said, "I kinda hate it here."

Nico breathed a sigh of relief. "Me, too."

"It's stupid, but I'm terrified we're gonna get stuck," Will said. He tossed his bag in a nearby trash can.

"I know." The worst thing was, he meant it.

Will wasn't done, though. "I mean, I'm not mad it happened, because, obviously-" he gestured at Nico "-it turned out pretty great, but I never want to be trapped in the middle of nowhere for-"

"-for six hours, I know," Nico finished for him. "Yeah, I get it." He blushed, preparing himself for embarrassing vulnerability. "Besides, the great thing already happened, so if we get stuck again, it'll never turn out like last time. It'll just suck."

"Right." Will gave him a sickeningly fond look, then a smug grin overtook his face. "But it'll suck with you."

Nico's mouth dropped open as he processed Will's terribly romantic line, and he gently smacked his boyfriend on the arm. "That was so bad, you sappy bastard." Even so, he was smiling.

Will just smirked. "Wanna see if we can convince Chiron to head out early?"

"God, yes." I love you so much.

*Four months ago*

It was very odd being at band camp without any of his older cousins and friends. Objectively, he knew that they had each been there for the same four years and he was about to be, but something about them, following them around and succeeding them, gave them the impression of looming figures that had been there forever, almost like elementary kids thinking their teachers lived at school. They were eternal, perpetual; it was hard to believe they would never be in that position again, harder still to believe this was Nico's last time in this position, though, honestly it helped that Nico knew that Jason, Percy, and the others were asleep a couple blocks over at Percy's apartment because Nico and Hazel had come from there after a sleepover at Percy's insistence

They were at band camp. It was July 25, 9:30 a.m. Nico was the most powerful student in his vicinity since Hazel left him for drum major and no one applied for the other low brass section leader position. He hated it. But he also kinda loved it. But he also kinda felt like the roof had been ripped from over his head, leaving him to hold back the elements, because Mr. D was in charge of fundies for brass today, and his only instruction was, "Listen to your section leaders," before he sat down in a lawn chair in the shade of a large cedar tree.

Now, 19 kids were staring at him expectantly, 7 of them freshmen that had never marched before in their lives. He sighed. "Everybody put your instruments down, we're gonna learn basics."

Now

They did not convince Chiron to leave the rest stop early.

("We have let people stretch their legs this early in the morning," he said, looking a little amused.

"Actually, I'm really looking forward to getting back on the bus and going back to sleep," Nico countered, and Will agreed with a perfunctory, "Yeah." He didn't see why people needed to move around when they were all still dreaming of their beds at home.

Chiron shook his head. "Sorry, boys. Not gonna happen.")

But that was a bit over an hour ago, and, after a short nap, they were now at NRU, milling around, sort of in parade block, while they waited for the marching to start. They were in the middle of Greek Town with frat houses on either side of the road they were standing on. The only difference? Olympus was leading the high school bands instead of bringing up the back.

"Nico?" Reyna yelled from her place in NRU's color guard block. She jogged over to him. "What are you doing in front? I thought I wouldn't get to see you until the end." The other trombones next to him glanced over curiously, then turned away in disinterest, but Will and Hazel, in their white and orange drum major uniforms, walked over to say hi.

Nico took a wild second to take in Reyna's NRU guard uniform: glittery purple sequins, set against bright orange over a short black skirt, hair pulled back into two tight braids. Her face was also covered in orange and purple glitter. She was probably going insane. At least in high school, they let her wear a men's uniform. "Yeah, they put us in front."

She opened her mouth, and Nico thought she was about to tell him something. Instead, she turned around and screamed, "Piper! Look who they put in front this year?"

It was hard to see through the color guard, but distantly, he saw someone vaguely Piper shaped in the flute section turn around, drop her jaw in shock, and turn back around to yell at someone in front of her. Then, she sprinted over and said, "Hey guys! How's band been without us this year?"

"Well, the freshmen-"

"Nico! Hazel! Hey!" This one was Percy, Leo close behind him. "And Will! How was the ride down?"

Before he could answer, Jason jogged over, and said, "Percy, unzip me."

What? Nico almost asked if he'd heard right, then Percy said, "I got you."

Nico's eyes widened, and he looked around the group. Will and Hazel had similar expressions of confusion on their faces, but Reyna, Piper, and Leo just looked amused. Frank came over then, and he and Hazel broke off to talk.

While Jason and Percy were doing...whatever they were doing, Annabeth wandered over, hair tucked up into her hat, and immediately got a look of exasperation on her face. "You two were serious about that?"

If Nico thought she would clear anything up, he was wrong.

Percy finished unhooking and unzipping Jason's marching band jacket which was somehow even uglier than the high school ones: overlapping purple N and R on thick orange and black horizontal stripes. Olympus' were simple orange with some purple whorls. (Olympus had struck some sort of deal with NRU for them to be allowed to use the same colors and logo as the college, resulting in the worst color scheme known to man.)

Then, Jason took the jacket off, and Nico stared. There were chip bags, water bottles, and other snacks taped to the inside of the garment.

"What the hell did you two do?" Nico asked wearily. Will looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"We brought you food," Percy said helpfully.

Nico gestured helplessly. "Why, exactly?"

Jason started pulling the food off the jacket and handing it to Nico and Will. "In case your bus breaks down again."

"Oh my god." Nico almost fumbled a granola bar. "What the hell are we supposed to do with all this?"

Jason stood and looked at Nico like he was the one being weird. "Tape it to your jackets."

That was the last straw for Leo apparently, who busted out laughing.

Annabeth eyed her boyfriend. "We told them not to do that, just so you know."

Will grinned at her. "We figured."

"Oh, and Thalia said she's in the crowd somewhere by Jupiter's."

Cool, Nico looked forward to seeing his oldest cousin. After graduating high school, she decided to go to a local automotive program instead of enrolling in NRU. Her dad had been pissed, but Nico knew that was probably one of her goals. "I'll keep a lookout for her."

Then, he looked down at the food in his arms and sighed, then reached over to unzip Will's jacket to start taping things to it.

Chiron and Mr. D were nowhere to be found, so they should still have plenty of time for this bullshit before the parade started.

When he was done, he looked up to see Frank handing Hazel food a few feet away. How come *she* didn't have to tape it to her clothes?

Then, because they weren't finished, of course, Percy took his hat off, careful of the plume, and took a Ziploc bag full of cold pizza out. "Put this in your hat."

Nico stared dumbfounded, and Will gave him a look that Nico assumed to mean, Your family is fucking weird. "Are you serious?"

Percy rolled his eyes and shook the bag. "Yeah, take it."

Internally cursing every single event that led him to this, Nico grabbed the bag and shoved it up into his hat. The hats were tall but tight, so it should stay fine. He'd once marched an entire half-time show with a Kit-Kat in it.

Finally, Reyna patted him on the back and said, "We should probably all get in line. Good luck today."

The others gave them similar messages as they filed back into their lines until just Nico, Will, Hazel, and Percy were left standing there.

Percy looked at Nico. "Hey, you guys are gonna do great today, alright?"

Nico nodded, confused. "Okay."

"Percy! Come on!" Annabeth yelled from somewhere in the clarinet section.

He ignored her, and Nico knew whatever he said next would be both important and uncomfortable. "We're all really proud and can't wait for you to be here next year." Nico opened his mouth, but Percy turned around and started running away. "Okay bye!"

With that, he ran off, and Nico huffed after him. What an annoying turd. Nico kinda loved him.

"That was sweet," Hazel said.

Nico was about to ask her where she put the stuff Frank gave her when Chiron walked up to the front of the band with two juniors Nico didn't know and Olympus' banner. That meant they were about to start marching. He stepped into line with his trombone.

Chiron turned to face the band, though he was really talking to Will and Hazel. "Everybody ready? We should be going soon."

They nodded. Now, it was just a matter of waiting.

While they were standing there, Will turned to Nico and said, "I can't believe I'm about to march four miles with Cheetos poking me in the chest."

"Same," Hazel said. "Although I think mine are Cheez-Its."

Nico had to laugh at that. "Well, I've got pizza on my head. I don't think any of us thought we'd be here."

Will and Hazel laughed, giving Nico a warm, fuzzy feeling. "Hey, how'd you get it to stay without falling out of your pants?" Nico asked.

Hazel looked at him oddly. "It's in my bra, Nico."

Nico wasn't sure how to respond to that. Thankfully, he didn't have to as NRU's band chose that moment to call everyone to attention. Will and Hazel started their beat clapping, and almost immediately, the drum line started in.

"Band!" Will and Hazel yelled. "Ten-hut!"

The whole band went rigid, everyone standing at attention. For the trombones, that meant holding the instrument horn pointing down, elbows at about a 90-degree angle. Their heels were together, toes apart. They were hyped and ready.

A minute later, they started walking. Contrary to popular belief, marching bands didn't actually walk with their knees up to their chests because that would not only be ridiculous, but it would make it harder to play their instruments. Instead, they did glide stepping which just meant walking with immaculate posture, keeping toes up, and moving hips as little as possible. It was the best way to walk while blowing into an instrument, and the best way to not break a tooth on a mouthpiece which had been known to happen.

They were still in Greek Town, so there was probably some time before they played any music. For now, it was just cadences, so Nico got to watch NERO's color guard. Their flags were just orange and purple blurs. It was awesome.

Eventually, they started playing music: the school theme song and their show song that year, 'We Will Rock You' interspersed with cadences.

They passed hordes and horses of people, many of which were pushing the boundaries of the road, and NRU guard member almost hit a kid. It was all part of the game, though. Happened every year.

They made it into the main part of campus by the library, then looped back out to go into the city. Pizza bouncing on his head, they passed apartments and restaurants, thrift stores and bodegas. At one point, they passed Jupiter's, and he thought he saw Thalia's dark head, but he couldn't be certain. It was hard to parse out anyone on the sidelines while playing.

He wasn't sure where they were when Will, holding the band at attention, suddenly gave him an urgent look and pointed over his shoulder. Nico turned and somehow managed to stay in step without whacking anyone with his instrument, and his eyes widened.

The freshman behind him - he couldn't tell which one it was beneath the hat - was way too pale and sweaty, and Nico knew exactly what was about to happen.

"Step out to the side and find Chiron," he said firmly.

Thankfully, the kid managed to step out of the block a second before vomiting and even avoided all the bystanders. Nico stayed turned around just long enough to see Chiron walk up next to the poor kid. They should be fine, but he made a mental note to check on them later.

Horrible and disgusting incident avoided, he went back to watching Will.

A few more turns later, they came up on the judges' table, and Will and Hazel started them on "We Will Rock You" for the final time. Nico did one last check of his posture and feet, called guide and cover down - they should be perfect.

And then that was it. They had passed the judges' table. The competition was over. They had two blocks left before they were done forever.

It was the first time that thought filled him with dread. For years, he'd been looking forward to leaving his shitty past behind. He wanted to go to college to be with his friends even though he still has no idea what he wanted to do, to finally leave the place that felt like it had been dragging him down. He was endlessly excited to start making a real life with Will where they had the freedom to think about their future away from the pressure and expectations of their looming parents. He already had a dorm lined up with his boyfriend, scholarships, an orientation date, he'd even finally scheduled his driver's test, but now? He was scared. What if he wasn't ready to leave Olympus?

Who was he kidding? The only thing still here for him was Hazel. Memories, old and new, were waiting for him with his cousins. He could cherish his last year here, but even with the overwhelming feeling of an ending, he knew he wouldn't miss it. Not that much, at least.

They turned the corner onto an empty street, one bordered by dorms with a big lawn in the middle dotted with trees. Drumline played the 'end march' beat. They stopped walking and dispersed across the grass, some people already tearing off their jackets and hats. NRU's band continued on toward the football field.

Nico walked right up to Will. "I can't wait to go here with you next year."

Will's eyes widened, clearly not expecting such honesty. "Me, too. Any particular reason?"

Across the field, a clarinet in a blue uniform crashed into a trumpet in a green uniform, sending them both tumbling into the grass, both giggling and shrieking the other's name. "No. I just really fucking love you."

Will's expression went unbearably soft. "I really fucking love you, too."

One week, one day before

As Lou Ellen Blackstone stepped out of the circle, Will glanced up at the scoreboard, lit up bright against the night sky. "Three minutes until halftime."

Nico didn't quite know how, but he somehow ended up in the middle of the circle. Now, he hadn't been planning on giving a senior speech since, honestly, he didn't think he was involved enough for anyone to care what he had to say, but, evidently, he was wrong because what felt like a dozen pairs of hands pushed him into the circle. His first thought was to panic; he couldn't find Will, and he hated public speaking. Then, he caught sight of his sweet, sweet boyfriend and managed to find his breath, even if getting the words out past the lump in his throat after the previous speeches was a struggle. "Hi, I'm Nico."

"Hi, Nico."

Despite it all, he grinned. "I have no idea how many of you know me because I never try to talk to anyone, but, but holy shit, I am so fucking ready to graduate." There were a few snorts, but he kept looking at Will who looked exasperated, if a bit sad. "But I have loved marching band, and I will probably miss you guys."

At that, Will's face took on a proud look as the people around them cheered. He even heard someone shout, "Mr. D-ass goodbye, di Angelo!"

Whatever. He was too focused on the tears in his boyfriend's eyes to care what anyone else thought of his speech. As far as he was concerned, it was the best one, at least until Will went.

And that one. Boy did that one make him cry. It might've been the worst half time show he'd ever marched.

But to him, it was damn good.

Now

"Third place drumline goes to Othrys High School with 89 points," one of the judges, a sweet looking older woman, said as she read off her clipboard to the several marching bands gathered on the lawn. "Second place is Pelion High School with 92 points." Everyone held their breath. "And first place with 98 points is Olympus High School."

Energy thrummed across the orange and purple-clad teens, but they refrained from celebrating. There were still two more categories to go. However, Nico did grab Will's hand in suspense. He was only human.

"Third place in visuals goes to Ithaca High School with 87 points, second to Othrys High School with 94 points, and first to Olympus High School with 95 points."

They were cutting it close with that score but thankfully still in the lead. Nico squeezed Will's hand tighter. The next category would be the decider.

"Third place in musicality goes to Pelion High School for 91 points, second to Othrys High School with 96 points, and third to Olympus High School with a whopping 99 points!"

They still didn't celebrate, waiting for the final call, but Nico and Will did glance at each other in excitement. They won.

The judge flipped the page on her clipboard. "Honorable mention for overall performance goes to Ithaca High School with 245 points; third to Pelion High School with 265 points; second to Othrys High School with 279 points." She paused, clearly drumming up drama even though they all knew who won by now. "And first place with the best high school marching band in southern New York goes to Olympus High School with 292 points!"

Now, they celebrated, jumping up and down and yelling, pumping fists in the air, the whole shebang. They had fucking earned this.

Someone at the front of the lawn handed Chiron the trophy (and it wasn't a small one, either, probably the size of Nico's entire arm), and Mr. D held up a hand. They quieted.

He didn't speak right away, taking a deep breath like he was going to give a lengthy speech. "You did good today."

When it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything else, they erupted in screams, possibly more raucous than before.

Nico looked up at Will and did a double take. "Are you crying?"

Will sniffled. "It's-it's a lot."

"Oh my god, come here." Nico pulled his head down to cradle in his neck. Chip bags crinkled under the uniform. "I'm gonna miss it, too."

They didn't stay like that long, constantly aware of where they were, so when they pulled away, Will's eyes were still red-rimmed and leaking, but thankfully not as wet as before.

The blond gazed up at the buildings in front of them, one of them to be their home next year, and never once let go of Nico's hand. "Are you ready?"

Nico followed his sightline. "Yep."

And this year, their bus didn't break down.

[jisungsmochi]

just one night - njm

summary: getting wasted at a random party wasn’t on your agenda for your saturday night. but when your best friend’s brother tends to you for the night, one thing leads to another...and suddenly he couldn’t leave your mind. 

genre / warnings: highschool!au, best friend’s brother (oops), slightly suggestive (there is a section where sex is mentioned but it is not detailed at all lmaooo), fluffy, lil angst, i think that’s it ! 

word count: 10.2k (uMMM wow i didn’t expect it to be that long but pls enjoy) 

mini playlist: 

long story short - taylor swift 

love somebody like you - joan 

take me on - joan 

photograph - ed sheeran 

//

your ears were ringing from the intense blasting of the speakers at lee haechan’s monthly ragers. you didn’t know him too well, but your best friend, and platonic soulmate, jisoo, insisted you attend. you assumed it was because she had a growing crush on the party host, despite her constantly opposing the idea.

after taking your first shot of the night, something ignited in you. it had been a while since you let loose and enjoyed yourself. you often placed immense pressure on yourself in your studies, blocking out the outside world when you were in your element. jisoo cheered you on, clinking your shot glasses together as you both consumed the horrid liquid.

as the night rolled by, you had lost jisoo, assuming she was with haechan and the rest of his friends. you started to feel faint, your head whirling, eyes ready to completely shut. you felt yourself land harshly on the nearby couch, the group of teenagers who were seated on said couch, laughed hysterically at your state. you continued to moan and groan, your head pounding along with the beat of the song blasting through the speakers.

you could barely hear anything else, only a soft voice whispering to you,

“stay with me alright? i’ll take care of you”

the voice sounded familiar but you were far too drunk to even bother asking. you felt yourself being picked up, the figure now dragging you out of the house.

“gosh, you two are such a pain” the voice grumbles once again. your eyes started to flutter open, the blurred features of your best friend’s twin brother, jaemin, came into focus. he was visibly annoyed at the sight of you and your better half completely wasted. you noticed that you had been buckled up in the back of his car.

“good, you’re awake, now stay put until we’re home” jaemin sighed, closing the driver’s side door, starting the engine.

you didn’t remember much of the ride home, all you could hear was jisoo ranting about how haechan rejected her moves on him, and jaemin endlessly teasing her. 

you were able to stand briefly as you exited the car, but jisoo on the other hand was utterly hammered. you helped jaemin pull her out of the car and to her bedroom. luckily their parents were away for the weekend, meaning they didn’t have to witness their daughter vomit on her bedroom carpet.

“oh my god, how much did you drink?” jaemin was practically pulling at his own hair. although you were tipsy, you were able to comprehend the situation at hand. you immediately ran to her bathroom, pulling out some cleaning supplies.

“you clean this up while i clean her up for the night”

“fine whatever” the boy rolls his eyes, holding his nose as he begins to scrub the carpet. you made your way over to jisoo, sitting close to her, starting to wipe off her makeup. she had practically passed out by now, only the sounds of jaemin furiously scrubbing and jisoo’s soft snores filled the room. you and jaemin had never really talked while you were over at their house. being jisoo’s day one, you found yourself basically living in her room, yet you couldn’t remember a time you properly hung out or even spoke to jaemin. you looked over at him, his face distorting with disgust at his sister’s mess. it made you chuckle slightly as you finished wiping off her makeup.

“what’s so funny?” he grumbled, walking to the bathroom to dispose of the garbage.

“i guess seeing you clean up your sister’s vomit was something i’d never thought i’d see you do” you shrugged, avoiding his glare.

“oh really? if anything, you two owe me big time” jaemin shuffled over to you, towering over both you and jisoo. your breath hitched once you realised how close he was to you.

“w-why do i owe you?” you muttered, looking up at him.

“because i saved you from embarrassment when others were laughing at how wasted you were” you blushed in embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him.

“o-oh thanks for that then. i uh better get going” you stand up quickly, ready to leave the awkward situation at hand. but jaemin didn’t budge, he remained where he was, causing you to barge into his chest. he found your clumsiness amusing, holding you by your shoulders.

“you don’t seem too good to be walking home, just stay the night. i’m sure jisoo would want you here in the morning” he suggested, as you both gave the sleeping girl a solemn look.

“y-yeah, i guess so” your tired eyes meeting his. you had never been this close  to him before. he stared down at you with his deep brown eyes that were enough to make any girl immediately swoon. but this was totally cliche, falling for your best friend’s brother? please. 

besides, you’d never go for a guy like na jaemin. he was a loner, although he did have a tight knit group of friends, that you knew of. jisoo was the more outgoing and popular one between the pair, sometimes you couldn’t fathom that they were related.

“here, i’ll help you out” jaemin wrapped his hand around your wrist as he pulled you to the bathroom. he began wiping the makeup off your face, being careful to avoid being too harsh. you were practically holding your breath the entire time. why the hell was he being so nice to you? this had to be somewhat weird, right?

“all done, i’ll let you get changed” he threw the wipe in the bin before leaving the room without another word.

you changed into some of jisoo’s clothes, feeling yourself start to sober up a little. there was a soft knock on the door, in which you answered. you were met with jaemin holding two glasses of water. he gently pushed past you, handing you a glass before placing one on jisoo’s bedside table.

“you tired?” he practically whispered to you, eyes not leaving yours.

“uh not really to be honest” you replied, taking a large gulp of water. jaemin nodded, biting the inside of his cheek before suggesting,

“did you wanna hang out for a bit? i get it if it’s weird, i just thought it’d be nice” he mumbled, eyes breaking contact with yours. you had never seen him so nervous before, it was sort of endearing. you nodded, following him to his room. it had been the second, maybe third time you had been in his room. the first time was when jisoo attacked him on the morning of their birthday with some birthday punches. you observed the various decorations he had up on his walls. some random band posters and some photography portraits were scattered all over.

“did you take these?” you questioned, admiring a particular portrait right above his bed head.

“uh yeah, i dabble in photography” he shamelessly shrugs, sitting down on his bed. you look over at him, too nervous to sit down with him.

“so this is kind of strange huh? i mean, i’ve known jisoo for years but i feel like i barely know you at all” you started rambling, slowly moving to sit at the edge of his bed, keeping a generous distance between you both.

“well it’s not like we’ve made any efforts. you two are inseparable, it’s sometimes insufferable being in the same room as you both” he decided to rant, making you giggle slightly.

“i don’t really know much about you though, as an individual”

“ah well there’s not really much to me, all i do is sleep, eat, study and occasionally drink at parties, it’s just an endless cycle at this point” you sighed, feeling yourself inch closer to jaemin, your legs swinging onto the surface of his bed. your shoulders were briefly touching, but neither of you made the effort to move away.

“here i was, thinking you were actually interesting” jaemin smirked, nudging you softly. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, gently shoving him back.

“no but really, there’s gotta be more than that. i mean, i’ve seen you at school. everyone likes you, even the mean teachers. i’ve never seen anyone make Ms Kim light up, even if you were talking about some mathematical theory that no one else understood-“ he stopped himself, looking over at you. you couldn’t believe the words that were leaving his mouth. here you were, believing that he didn’t give a rats ass about your existence but you were wrong.

“so you seem to know me pretty well then” you teased, watching as heat slowly rose to his cheeks. he could barely look at you now.

“but i don’t know the real you” he softly muttered, pulling your eyes back to meet his own. you didn’t say anything back to him. instead you admired how gorgeous he looked under the dim lighting of his bedroom. you weren’t sure if the alcohol was making you act upon this or if you were just caught up in his words, but nothing was stopping you from locking lips with the dark haired boy. it took a moment for him to process what was happening, his hand immediately finding the side of your face, gently stroking it as he deepened the kiss. a voice in your head was telling you this was wrong (probably jisoo’s) but you ignored it. the next thing you knew, you were straddling him, your hands moving to his shoulder as you softly gripped onto his white shirt. he was the first one to pull away,

“should we even be doing this?” he muttered against your lips, pecking you one more time.

“probably not” you smugly smiled, pulling him into you once again. nothing more than a heavy make out sessions with some (possible) groping occurred that night. you didn’t say much to jaemin after, watching as he started to fall asleep. you had no idea what just happened,

did he like you?

did you like him?

you decided to sleep on it, hoping that in the morning, it would have all been some chaotic dream. you made your way back to jisoo’s room, sliding into bed next to her. as you rolled to your side, flashbacks of jaemin’s lips on yours and his hands wandering over you filled your mind.

you remember thinking to yourself, this cannot be happening.

//

the next morning, you were woken up by jisoo’s groaning. she started shuffling, pulling the shared blanket between you both, off of you completely. you decided it was a good time to get up and make your way home. you wrote a note for jisoo to wake up to:

‘hey there, drink this entire glass and take some aspirin okay? i spent the night and will return your clothes soon, rest well! - y/n ‘

you hurriedly grabbed all your belongings that were scattered all over her floor. once you were able to gently close her door without waking her up,

“rise and shine” you jumped at the deep voice behind you.

jaemin has a smug smile on his face, flashbacks of the previous night still lingering in his head. you just froze, your mouth unable to form a proper greeting. he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, a plain white tee and grey sweatpants. his hair was shaggy, random ends were sticking out all over the place. yet you still found him really attractive, wait what?

“i-i’m just gonna head home now, bye bye” you tried to push by him, but he stopped you almost instantly.

“do you wanna go get breakfast?” he suddenly asked, why the hell was he being so nice to you?

“i haven’t brushed my teeth yet, and i’m sure i reek of alcohol or something. maybe some other time” you weren’t sure why you were being so hesitant to spend more time with him. you knew that if jisoo ever found out something was happening between you two, she’d probably freak out and cause a massive scene. you wanted to avoid the theatrics of your best friend as much as possible. even if it meant rejecting one of the most attractive guys at your school.

“so you’re just going to pretend nothing happened?” he let out a soft scoff, in disbelief at your attitude.

“no, i’m not like that. i just- i don’t know what this is. it shouldn’t even be a thing. we shouldn’t even be talking right now” you groan slightly, beginning to walk to the front door. jaemin followed in suit, his figure standing right behind you as you reached the door.

“why are you being like this?” he furrowed his eyebrows, the tiredness in his voice still evident.

“it was my first kiss, jaemin. you were the first guy i’ve ever kissed. and i don’t want it to be weird when jisoo is around. can you understand that?” you explained, guilt rising in your stomach.

“i-i didn’t know it was your first kiss. but if you really care so much about what jisoo thinks of you, then that’s your problem. i’ll just pretend it didn’t happen either” he raised his hands in defeat, reaching over to open the door for you. he leaned closer into you, lips lingering by your ear,

“but i won’t forget about it, no matter how hard i try”

what the hell is this guy playing at?

you broke yourself away from him, rushing out the door, jogging to your house that was just across the road. it’s been a wild 24 hours, all you needed was a nice, hot shower, and to forget that you ever made out with na jaemin.

//

the following monday morning, jisoo came knocking on your bedroom door, waking you up for school. you shot out of your bed, your body thumping onto the ground. jisoo entered your room, and immediately bursted out in laughter.

“god you’re even clumsy when you’re asleep!” she giggled, pulling you up. you just groaned in response, shuffling over to your bathroom to brush your teeth.

“anyway, you are in big trouble” the energy in the room just dropped. you looked over at her, worried about the words that would leave her mouth.

“jaemin told me everything” she continued, making you want to shit your pants even more.

“w-what did he say?” you spat out the toothpaste that was in your mouth, eyes now focused on your sink.

“he said that he saw you wearing my new pink pajama bottoms!” you sighed in relief, thank god.

“i know that we have a bestie code and take eachother’s clothes a lot! but i just bought those and i hadn’t had a chance to even wear them yet” jisoo pouted, folding her arms before huffing. you shot her an apologetic smile, finally finishing washing up before you made your way over to her. you handed her the neatly folded clothes beside your bed,

“i’m sorry, they were the first thing i saw! i’ll buy you something from the canteen. can i be forgiven?” jisoo pretended to think, before pulling you into a short hug.

“ah of course! now get ready for school, i’m going to raid your pantry” she skipped her way out of your room. you let out another sigh of relief, not realising that your hands were shaking the entire time. why didn’t jaemin just expose you both to jisoo? maybe he was a man of his word.

you walked through the hallways, jisoo right by your side. your eyes were practically scanning for any sign of jaemin. according to jisoo, he hangs out with his ‘loser friends’ behind the science block. she always assumed they were doing something sketchy there, but you had never seen it for yourself.

“i-i gotta talk to Ms Kim about the quiz, i’ll see you during our free period” you lied through your teeth, but luckily jisoo thought nothing of it, you were always meeting with Ms Kim about your grades anyway.

you cautiously made your way to the science block, eyes still on the lookout for na jaemin. you saw one of his close friends, jeno (?) but there was no sign of him. maybe he didn’t even hang out here, you were about to give up and go back to your own friends, when you heard the familiar voice call out to you,

“y/n? what are you doing here?” jaemin made his way towards you, catching the attention of his entire friend group.

“i-i was looking for you” he immediately perked up. you knew he was about to say something cheesy, but he stopped himself.

“why didn’t you tell jisoo about what happened saturday night?” he pursed his lips for a moment, thinking of what to say.

“i didn’t feel like it was any of her business. it’s between us” he smirked at the last part, making you stomach feel uneasy, but sort of in a good way.

“i’m sorry for rushing out that morning. i just felt really awkward about everything. i don’t want you to think you’re like a bad kisser or anything like i actually quite enjoyed it” you stopped yourself from rambling any further once you saw how amused he looked. god he was gorgeous.

“you can keep going, i like hearing you talk about me” oh this was bad.

“s-so what? do you like me or is this all fun and games to you?” you tried to get to the bottom of this whole mess.

“i do have some interest in you, yes. i wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you more often and kissing you again” he shrugged, still showing off the same smug expression.

“same here” you blurred out. you brought your hands to cover your face, you couldn’t believe you just admitted that to him.

“then i guess i’ll see you around then. jisoo doesn’t have to know” jaemin slowly backed away from you, eyes still wandering over your figure. was he really checking you out right now? infront of his friends? you wondered how many other people saw you two.

to say that you didn’t think about jaemin for the rest of the day was a complete and utter lie. as soon as you got home, you couldn’t get him out of your head.  

//

you were finishing up the last bit of maths homework for the night, when you heard something tapping against your window. you assumed it was some bird that was pecking at the window sill like many others had before, but as you stepped closer, jaemin’s shaggy black hair came into view. you quickly opened your window, dragging the taller boy into your room, careful that your parents wouldn’t hear.

“are you insane or just dumb?” you scold the boy who was dressed in a baggy black hoodie and those same grey sweatpants from saturday.

“both? i couldn’t stop thinking about you” his lip cocked into a smirk as he stepped closer to you, hands now rested at your waist. you were caught up in how good he looked, especially at this time of day. you didn’t realise how strange it was that he literally just climbed through your window with no prior warning. you pulled away from him slightly, still reserved about whatever was going on between you both.

“look, i just wanted to hang out with you, i swear! i would invite you to mine but your bff would just hog you the entire time” jaemin let out a soft grunt, slipping off his shoes and making himself at home on your bed. you moved to the empty spot next to him, letting him pull you in by your waist as he smoothly linked his fingers with yours.

“this just seems like it’s going really fast. can we just slow down for a bit? i mean, we don’t really know eachother that well yet” you explain, resting your head back on your headboard. jaemin looked over at you, admiring how the loose strands of your messy hair were sticking in all sort of places. and how your glasses were slowly slipping down your nose but you were too lazy to push them all the way back up. you were wearing your classic plaid pajama set, which jaemin found absolutely adorable. he reached over to your face, pushing some hair strands aside before gently pushing your glasses back up.

“well what do you wanna know then?” he whispered, aware that your parents probably wouldn’t want to walk in on their daughter with a boy in her bed.

“have you always, like thought of being friends with me?” you thought it was a dumb question to say out loud but jaemin seemed to be hesitant to answer, only making you more curious.

“i- honestly, yeah i have. i actually remember the first time i met you. i was with jisoo and we saw you sitting on the swings on the playground at school. we were kids back then, all we wanted to do was make friends. i was the first one to suggest we go over together, but then jisoo beat me to it” he stopped momentarily, looking over at you once again to see if you were still listening. you gently squeezed his hand that rested so perfectly in yours, as he continued,

“as any other ten year old boy would do, i just shrugged it off and found my own little group. i know this doesn’t really answer your question as it was a long time ago. but since you and jisoo clicked, and you started hanging out more, i couldn’t help but think, what would happen if i went up to you first?” you nodded along at his words, finding his way of storytelling so compelling.

“even if you approached me first, we both know that jisoo would have tried to snatch me in an instant” you both let out soft chuckles, both agreeing that jisoo was quite a character. “but after all these years, you’ve barely acknowledged me. i actually thought you hated me at one point” jaemin’s mouth opened as if he was about to speak before closing it slowly. he thought hard about what he could say to impress you,

“i never hated you. i just never got a chance to speak to you personally. jisoo was always there, and if we start dating or liking eachother, it’s probably going to get worse” jaemin admitted. there was a certain degree in which you understood what he was saying. but if you both ended up having true feelings for eachother, who was jisoo to stop you?

“y-you think we might end up dating?” you couldn’t hide how giddy you felt, leaning in closer to him, your noses gently brushing against eachother. jaemin smiled widely, his heart beating erratically. sure, he’s kissed other girls and even dated some, but none of them could compete with how flustered you were making him right now.

“i-i mean yeah, i don’t see myself with anyone else at the moment” jaemin whispered against your lips, slowly closing the gap. you moved your hand to rest on his shoulder as he glided his own hands to cup the side of your face. everything was so natural with him. you didn’t have to be nervous, or second guess yourself around jaemin. he made you feel safe, comfortable, like you meant something to him. things started getting heated when jaemin started rubbing small circles on your thighs, his lips still attached to yours. you weren’t sure how far he was going to go tonight, but your mind was clouded with how good it felt to kiss him again. jaemin’s lips started trailing down your jaw, to your neck, before you interrupted,

“h-hey, taking it slow, remember?” he immediately stopped, eyes filled with list as he looked up at you.

“anything for you, baby” he mumbled, placing one last kiss to your cheek. you both ended up chatting the rest of the night, telling stories from your childhood to the horrors of puberty. despite the fact that you both had school the next morning, you didn’t want jaemin to leave, and neither did he.

//

“i have a proposition for you” jisoo exclaims, pulling you along as you walk through the local shopping mall, in need of some retail therapy from midterms approaching.

“what is it now?” you playfully roll your eyes as sip on your bubble tea.

“i’m going to set you up on a date!” she practically squeezed you so hard you almost choked on the boba.

“w-who? what? when? where? why?” you couldn’t believe her sometimes.

“it’s with renjun, you know, the guy in our bio class. anyways, he’s recently single, you’re just single. and i think he’d be a good match for you!” she explains further, as you both take a seat on a nearby bench in the middle of the mall.

“what makes you think he’ll even be interested in me? did you threaten him or something?” you give her a subtle glare, still recovering from your choking experience.

“well i saw him looking at you a few times during class, so he must think you’re pretty at least” her logic never failed to entertain you.

“i’m not interested in dating anyone at the moment, please don’t tell me you already set it up” she looked over at you with a soft smile, moving strands of her hair behind her ear.

“god you already did” you groan in frustration. jisoo saw how annoyed you were. you know she had good intentions but you were capable of getting a date...if you really wanted one.

“i’m sorry, i just thought it’d be cute, you know since he’s friends with haechan and you know i have a crush on him. so i thought we could all hang out together!” she started babbling, but somehow you understood it all. you were going to do this for her, and her only.

“okay fine, ONE date, and it’s a group one” you firm with your best friend as she nods in compliance.

here goes nothing.

//

the evening of the double date, you were getting ready in your room. what were you even supposed to wear? your thoughts were interrupted by repetitive taps on your window. you glance over, seeing jaemin’s fluffy hair peek through the glass. you giggle lightly at the sight, rushing to open your window to let the poor boy in.

“hey, you won’t believe what just happened, jisoo is freaking out beca- woah, you look, uh really nice” jaemin stops himself, taking a moment to admire your look for the night. you felt your cheeks heat up immediately, turning away from him to hide them as best you could.

“t-thanks, why was jisoo freaking out?” you tried to draw back to his sudden outburst.

“oh yeah, she was asking me what boys liked, and if i thought haechan would like her back. ahh it was hilarious, she’s a nutcase” jaemin chuckled lightly, flopping himself on your bed, eyeing you closely.

“she’s just nervous! we’re going on a double date” you didn’t get to continue, as jaemin practically leaped from your bed, over to stand infront of you again.

“a double date? who are you paired with?” jaemin furrows his eyebrows, a wave of worry just washing over him within the past ten seconds.

“don’t worry, it’s just with renjun, a guy in our bio class. i’m only going to calm down jisoo, i’m sure renjun is a nice guy but-“ you hesitate, taking in a short breath before continuing. jaemin has his eyes fixed on you, listening to ever word that strung from your mouth.

“but what?” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours.

“but he’s not you” you finally felt a weight lift off your shoulders. your words only made jaemin confirm for himself that he was so completely into you. without another word, he pulled you in for a warm embrace, placing small kisses on the crown of your head.

“that’s all i needed to hear, have fun tonight. let me know if an SOS situation occurs, jisoo can get full on with her crushes” jaemin pulls away from you, fixing bits of your hair that be accidentally messed up.

“you say that as if she isn’t my best friend” you roll your eyes, allowing him to pat down strands of your hair as gently as he could.

“well sometimes i forget. you’re just that amazing, jisoo needs someone like you. i need someone like you” jaemin finishes what he was doing, his hands now moving to cup your face, softly squishing your cheeks together.

“let me know when you get home, i’ll come over and we can uh, lock lips” he started making loud kissing sounds, only making you push him away from you in embarrassment.

jaemin seemed fine with the idea of you going on the double date. you would assume so, considering you indirectly confessed to liking him. you just had to get through tonight, and then you and jaemin could continue whatever, odd friends with benefits but not really, relationship you have.

//

“so y/n, how did you do on the last bio exam?” renjun tried to make small conversation with you, trying to avoid the constant chattering of your friends. you appreciated how considerate he was being, considering you barely knew him or haechan.

“i think i did okay! how about you?” you continued, taking a quick sip of your strawberry milkshake. you were all sitting in a random diner that haechan recommended. you’d think after one game of bowling, a walk through the local park, and dinner at this diner, that they’d all be tired. but no, you forgot how energetic your friend was, and renjun was slowly starting to realise the same thing.

“the last few questions were challenging, i’d be lucky to get one of them right” you both chuckled softly, your eyes diverting to jisoo and haechan who were too caught up in their own world.

“did you want a ride home? i’m 99% sure haechan is going to offer to walk jisoo home” renjun offered, reaching for his car keys. you hesitated for a moment, nudging jisoo softly as she just waved you off. you rolled your eyes, opting to interrupt her conversation.

“renjun’s taking me home, let me know once you’re home okay? and haechan, make sure she’s safe” you sternly point at the cheery boy, who just nodded. you walked with renjun to his car, hopping into the passenger side. the ride was fairly quiet, he didn’t try to force any awkward conversation into you, thank god. all you could think about was going home and seeing jaemin again.

as he reached your house, you quickly gathered your things, ready to bid him farewell.

“thanks for agreeing to go on this double date. i had fun, i hope you did to. maybe we can do this again sometime, but maybe just us...” renjun stooped you from leaving the car. you widened your eyes at his words, was the really asking you out right now?

sure you thought he was a nice guy, but the ‘date’ didn’t seem much like a date to you at all.

“i-uh i had fun tonight, but i’m....actually seeing someone, i’m sorry” you quickly blurred out, even more shocked at your own words. renjun’s mouth was slightly agape, not expecting that answer at all. he pulled himself together, shaking off the entire situation.

“it’s okay, i understand. have a nice night” he gave you a small smile, but you knew it was filled with shame. you didn’t know what else to do but signal him a small wave as you exited his car and walked to your front door. you felt guilty for lying to renjun, but it wasn’t a complete lie. you started replaying the whole scene through your head. as you entered your room, you were met with jaemin looking all cozied you in your bed. he had an oversized hoodie on, with some plain grey sweatpants.

“ah you’re home, i queued up some videos to watch!” jaemin made his way over to you, pulling you in a for a tight hug. and just like that, all thoughts of renjun just washed away. jaemin was your person, one day you’ll be able to tell the whole world. but right now, you were happy with keeping it your little secret.

//

“what’s this i hear about you telling renjun you’re seeing someone? who the hell is it? because surely they have to be able to top this perfect dude i found for you” jisoo starts ranting on your way to first period the following day. your mind was still foggy, memories of the night you spent with jaemin, floating through your head.

“i-i just wasn’t interested in him. or anyone for that matter, it was a little white lie” you shrugged, trying to drop the situation completely. but she wasn’t buying it at all.

“there has to be someone, the last thing you are, is a liar” jisoo furrowed her brows at you, giving you a playful stank glare. you broke eye contact with her, rushing ahead to get to your class so she couldn’t pester you anymore about this situation. unfortunately, you felt your barge against someone with a very hard chest, they didn’t even flinch. you looked up to apologise, the playful glare of jaemin meeting your eyes. you quickly stepped back, pulling yourself together from that embarrassing scenario. jisoo ran up to you, softly giggling, before you saw her face fall at the sight of her brother.

“ugh it’s you” she scoffs, making sure you were okay.

“oh don’t act so happy to see me” jaemin sarcastically responded, eyes only fixed on you as if he has tunnel vision.

“leave poor y/n alone, it’s bad enough she has to see you when she comes over, don’t make it hard on her here” jisoo teased, pulling you away from him slowly. but jaemin quickly caught onto your arm, leaning down to your ear,

“i’m very sorry, y/n”

he had a hint of mischief in his voice, that you hoped jisoo wouldn’t catch onto. all you could do was not a mumble that it was okay, before jisoo completely pulled you away from him. seeing him at school everyday, while keeping everything a secret, was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

why did he have to be so alluring? so enticing? all you wanted to do was sit with him and talk for hours on end. maybe share a few pecks here and there, but as days went by, jaemin would engage in lengthy conversations with you. he would tell you about how spoilt and bratty jisoo could get, and how their parents would push jaemin aside, and support jisoo in all her studies and other extracurriculars, but they couldn’t even attend one of his photography exhibitions at school. he confided in you deeply, telling you things that no other soul would know. you didn’t know why he just lets it all out to you, but who were you to oppose? you loved listening to him talk as he played with your hair. you loved his lame jokes and stories about detention. you loved when he talked about his photography, how passionate he was whenever he talked about capturing the most beautiful moments through his lens. everything about na jaemin was close to perfect. you just wished you could call him yours, officially.

//

jaemin: meet me out front in 20 mins, i wanna show you something

your face contorted into a mix of confusion and excitement. you pulled on your most puffy winter jacket and some black boots, before slowly creeping out your front door to meet jaemin across the road. he was leaning against his car, dressed in a white hoodie with a leather jacket over it and some plain black jeans. you embraced him in a warm hug, as he chuckled into your neck and how adorable you looked in your puffy jacket. he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before opening the door for you, you kindly accepted, hopping right in. you noticed he had a suspiciously packed duffel bag in the back of his car, what the hell was he planning?

“so you’re gonna tell me why we’re going out at 11:30 at night? if you wanted to make out, we could have just done it in my room, my parents aren’t home, we don’t have to be qu-“ you were interrupted with his lips on yours, like many times before. his cold hands reached to hold your face, causing you to jump at the sudden touch. he stops kissing you momentarily, shooting you a smirk before continuing. as much as you were enjoying it, you were still curious as to where he was taking you.

“jaem, seriously, where are we going?”

you pulled away, lips slightly swollen. jaemin wiped his thumb gently over your lips, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes.

“we’re going somewhere i like to go when i need to clear my head, or just be alone. i wanna share it with you” your heart swelled at his words. how was he this perfect?

as he started the car, his hands immediately found its way to hold yours. your fingers instantly linking.

your eyes switched between focusing on jaemin, to your window. you weren’t really used to going out so late at night, never having a reason to. being with jaemin, made you feel like you were finally able to escape from everything else, even if it was temporary. there was a stillness in him that no one else was able to give you. he made you feel like you were doing okay, that you were going at a steady pace in life. jaemin was comforting to you, you wanted nothing to disturb this peace.

jaemin parked the car, tugging on your hand that you had arrived. you observed your surrounding immediately, where the hell were you? all you could see were trees and shrubs, as well as a gravel trail leading up a fairly large hill.

“you’re not gonna like murder me or something, right?” you cautiously asked, pulling your jacket to wrap around you tighter. jaemin chuckled at your words, pulling his fully packed duffel bag over his shoulder as he made his way over to you.

“don’t worry, baby. you just gotta trust me” he placed his free arm around you, leading you both up the hill. as you reached the very top, jaemin set down his bag. he pulled out a small picnic blanket, along with his camera equipment. you took a moment to grasp the view. it was a mini aerial view of your small neighbourhood. although it wasn’t a view of the entire city or pretty bright lights, you understood why he liked to come here.

“so this is my spot. i usually sit, take some photos and uh write in my journal” he sits down on the blanket, signalling for you to join him. you plop down right next to him, leaving no space between you. he pulled you closer, if that was even possible, his arms linking around your waist.

“it’s really pretty up here, thank you for sharing it with me” you leaned your head against his shoulder.  as you were admiring the view, jaemin was admiring a view of his own. your hair was slightly messy, the soft breeze blowing your baby hairs in all sorts of places. your glistening eyes observing the view that jaemin sought for comfort. but he found his new comfort place. and it was with you. wherever he was, if he had you beside him, he knew everything would be okay.

“why aren’t you saying anything?” you gently nudge him,

“i just like the quiet” he pauses for a moment before suddenly reaching for his camera. he removed his arm from your waist, which made you feel slightly empty inside. but he made up for it when he started fiddling with his camera, pulling it up to face you.

“oh come on, stop it” you hid your face with your hands, pulling away from him. jaemin moved his camera down, revealing the most adorable pout you had ever seen. you couldn’t resist his charms.

“ugh fine” you slowly pulled your hands away, allowing your lips to form a small smile as jaemin snapped the picture.

“you look gorgeous, as always” he mumbled to himself, not thinking you would hear him, but you did. the rest of the night was spent taking as many photos as jaemin wanted.

he was attempting to take a selfie with his camera, claiming the quality was much better than your measly phones. he held the camera up slightly, fitting both your faces in the frame.

“okay, three, two, on-“ you leant closer to him, placing a quick peck on his cheek as the camera flashed. his eyes shot over to you, a mischievous smirk washing over his face.

“you think you’re slick?” he mumbled, capturing you in another kiss, carefully discarding his camera to the side as he slowly moved his lips against yours. you felt yourself lean back under his grip, your back now laying on the blanket completely. jaemin leant over you, pulling away for a short moment,

“i-i think i love you” your eyes widen at his confession. love?

you hadn’t put too much thought on how you really felt towards jaemin. you knew you had formed a crush on him since day one, but love? you weren’t even sure you knew what love was. jaemin noticed how nervous you were getting, immediately becoming concerned.

“i-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have put that on you, i’m such an idiot”

“no, it’s okay, jaemin. i just don’t know what it’s like to love someone, like how you say you love me” you admitted, his face still inches from yours, you hands now rubbing over his arms. jaemin nodded, completely understanding how you felt.

“but loving you, isn’t something i see as impossible. i’m falling for you everyday, i’ll say it back when i know i’m ready” you assured him, watching as his eyes glided over you. he couldn’t believe how unbelievably incredible you were. how you were able to accept his confession. jaemin was confident that you would return his feelings. he couldn’t wait for the day you would confess your love for him.

“you’re amazing” you blushed at his words, pulling him down to lay next to you as you wrapped your arms around him.

“thankyou for tonight, this can be our thing” jaemin couldn’t argue against that. this was now officially your spot. that would never change.

//

at the na family home, jisoo was furiously searching for her usb drive that contained the video for her audition for the school’s upcoming musical. she pulled at her hair, letting out multiple huffs and grunts. her thoughts led her to her brother’s room. luckily he was currently out with his friends, doing who knows what, otherwise she would have been dead. she sorted through his desk, assuming he may have taken it by mistake when she left it on the dining table the previous night. there were stacks of random papers scattered on the boy’s desk, she was slightly appalled at how unorganised he was. after a solid minute of shuffling, the bright yellow usb stick came to view. before she picked it up, a sudden notification appeared on jaemin’s laptop, he must have forgotten to properly shut it off. jisoo ignored it at first, until she noticed the all too familiar contact name.

y/n?

why on earth were you texting jaemin?

jisoo felt sneaky, already snooping through her brother’s desk, only leading her to his precious laptop. if jaemin caught her right now, he’d be furious. but jisoo couldn’t get over her growing curiosity, moving her fingers on the trackpad to open your messages.

y/n: hey, could you send the photos from a few nights ago?

jisoo furrowed her brows for a moment, what photos were you talking about? she swiped over to his desktop, a folder titled ‘special moments’ already opened. it was mainly filled with jaemin’s photography assignments and other things he found intriguing, but the last thing she expected to find, were multiple photos of her best friend and her brother on a date. she scrolled further, eyes landing on the photo of you kissing jaemin’s cheek.

‘are you fucking kidding me?’ she whispered to herself. it all started making sense to her. jaemin constantly sneaking out of the house on numerous nights, you avoiding her nightly facetime calls. how awkward you two would act at school, how you rejected renjun, claiming you were seeing someone else. jaemin was that someone else.

“what the hell are you doing on my laptop? or in my room, for that matter” jaemin exclaimed, storming to his desk. jisoo glared at him, bringing her right hand to slap him harshly on the shoulder.

“how could you?” she gritted through her teeth, pointing to the laptop screen. jaemin held his arm in pain, looking over to what his sister was so mad about.

“we- i didn’t want you to find out like this, i swear” his voice softened,

“you mean you didn’t want me to find out at all, did you?” jisoo couldn’t hide the fact she felt betrayed by the two people she trusted most in the world.

“i thought we were closer than that, jaemin. you used to tell me everything. and out of every person in the world, you choose my best friend?” jisoo still couldn’t fathom the thought of you together. in her mind, you were her friend first before you were jaemin’s girlfriend.

“not everything revolves around you, you know? i’ve been going through shit and you haven’t noticed in years! y/n is the only person who listens to me and makes me feel like i actually matter” jaemin practically shouts back at his sister, causing her to tear up. “and if you hadn’t noticed, we’ve been together for a while, i even told her i loved her” jaemin’s delivery for the last line ended in a sudden whimper. jisoo couldn’t believe what she was hearing, was she really that naive?

“you love her? did she say it back?” was all she managed to say.

“she hasn’t said it back to me yet. she’s scared, i know she is. she’s scared of what you’ll think” jaemin shuffled over to sit on his bed, feeling himself cool down from the confrontation. jisoo softly sniffled, remaining completely still.

“i can’t do this, don’t hurt her, jaem. she’s never been inlove and i don’t want you ruining her first love experience, she deserves so much better” jisoo scoffs, grabbing her usb in a hurry before slamming the door behind her. jaemin couldn’t believe his own sister would presume such cruel things about him. but he knew it was only a matter of time before it was your turn to get the heat.

*incoming call from nana <3*

“oh hey! did you get my text?” you started the call, gently folding your clothes from the wash. jaemin coughed slightly, unsure of how to bring up the conversation. you halted your actions before asking,

“are you okay? do you want to come over?” you quickly became concerned.

“she knows, y/n. jisoo knows. she was snooping on my laptop and found the photos. i’m so sorry” your heart sank at his words. you felt like your whole world was turning upside down. of course you knew that she would find out one way or another. but at such a critical stage in yours and jaemin’s relationship, the timing was just not aligning. you knew that jisoo lived for the drama and theatrics of things, expecting her to blow up the entire situation.

“was she pissed?” you nervously gulped, not ready to face the fury of your best friend.

“yeah, she said some things to me, i-i’m fine though. i just wanted to give you a heads up. i didn’t mean for this to happen” jaemin groaned, pulling at his hair as he thought of ways to soothe the situation.

“i’ll try and talk to her, i guess the truth is finally coming out” you sighed, immediately worry washing over you. this wasn’t good.

//

you hadn’t heard from jisoo in almost a week. to say you were worried was an understatement.

nana <3: uh she wants us all to meet, preferably at our house. she doesn’t seem too mad?

y/n: fingers crossed, i’ll be there in 5

you wiped your palms over your leggings, feeling your hands shake in anticipation. the walk over to the na’s house seemed like a lifetime. you were greeted by jaemin, who avoided pulling you in for a warm embrace like he usually does when you see eachother. he led you to the living room, where jisoo stood, her arms crossed over her chest, an unreadable expression on her face. you cautiously took a seat on the opposite side of where jaemin sat on the couch. jisoo’s glares flickered between the both of you, unsure of how to begin.

“i have gathered you both here to discuss this little...relationship, between you both” she started,

“is it even a relationship?” you looked over at jaemin who was already looking over at you. you had never put any labels on whatever you and jaemin had.

“w-we’re not dating” you mutter, eyes avoiding those of your best friend.

“then what? friends with benefits? have you guys screwed eachother?” she continued to hound down on the details. jaemin noticed how uncomfortable you looked, he needed to just be honest.

“no we haven’t screwed. we made out on the night of haechan’s party, the one where you were knocked out drunk. we brought you home and we found ourselves hanging out together for the night and we kissed. it started from there and we’ve just been seeing eachother regularly ever since” jaemin summarised, hoping it would  bring ease to her mind. jisoo was stunned, so it had been months since it all started.

“but you told me you loved her. do you love him back, y/n?” jisoo’s voice suddenly softened, allowing you to finally look at her.

“i-i do” jaemin’s eyes shot towards you instantly, a soft smirk growing on his face. jisoo’s mouths slowly widened, this was the first time you had admitted you loved somebody in the entire time she had been friends with you. jisoo moves over to sit between you both on the couch, leaning back slowly.

“why couldn’t you guys just be honest with me?” she sounded hurt at the thought of you both not trusting her. you held her hand in yours, noticing how she seemed choked up about everything.

“we just didn’t know how to tell you. especially since we hadn’t made things official yet” you explained, signalling jaemin to jump in.

“we wanted you to know when we both knew that we loved eachother and it wasn’t going to change” jaemin assures his sister, practically pleading for her blessing and forgiveness.

“i-i’m sorry for blowing up at both of you. and i’m sorry for ignoring you, y/n. it’s just so weird, the idea of you kissing my brother” jisoo started fake gagging, causing jaemin to give her a stank glare. you laughed softly at her antics, pulling her in closer to you.

“we didn’t want to hurt you, or make you feel like we didn’t trust you. we just needed time together” you continued to explain, jaemin nodding along.

“y-you guys actually don’t seem too bad together. as long as you’re both happy, i guess i’ll be happy for you too. just, no making out infront of me, please?” after hearing those words, you and jaemin tackled jisoo in a fit of tickles and hugs. her giggles and pleas to stop echoed through the house. everything felt like it had been restored in the world. everything was aligning for you and jaemin to finally be together.

//

that night, you left their house with the biggest smile on your face. jisoo was already knocked out on the couch after you three decided to rewatch all the high school musical movies. jaemin slowly crept you out of the house, grabbing your hand in his. he offered to walk you home, despite it only being barely a minute away.

“tonight was really nice, thankyou” you whispered to him softly, pulling yourself closer to him as you both stood on your front porch.

“s-so you meant what you said? you love me?” jaemin’s eyes met yours as he nibbles on his lip anxiously. you held both his hands in yours,

“of course i do. i love you, jaemin” you finally said it out loud to him. jaemin immediately picked you up in his arms, swinging you around gently before placing endless kisses all over your face.

“does this finally mean you can be my girlfriend now?” he stopped kissing you, his lips only inches from your face. you felt his breath fan over your cheeks, letting out a soft giggle. you enthusiastically nodded, pulling his lips onto yours. jaemin was taken by surprise, but he surely wasn’t going to complain.

“can i spend the night?” jaemin muttered against your lips, your eyes slowly opening to see his pouty expression.

“finally, you can come through the door for once” you both started laughing, rushing you to your bedroom where jaemin helped you remove your jacket. he pulled you gently over to your bed, slowly kissing your lips as gently as he could. you found your arms wrapping around the back of his neck, playing with his hair. jaemin let out a short grunt,

“don’t do that” he mumbled, moving to kiss your cheeks.

“why not?” you whispered, continuing your actions,

“because you shouldn’t start something you can’t finish” he admitted, pulling away from you. you held your breath before you spoke. you hadn’t gone further than some heated make outs sessions with jaemin, you always stopped him when you felt uncomfortable. but right now, it felt right.

“i-i want to go further” you finally admitted, watching as jaemin widens his eyes. he did not expect that from you at all.

“i do too, but uh contrary to popular belief, i’ve never done...it before” jaemin confesses, pushing someone strands of hair from his own face, feeling his cheeks heat up.

you had always assumed he wasn’t a virgin due to a lot of baseless gossip from kids at school.

“really? that’s...great” he looked at you with the most confused expression you’d ever seen.

“i-i mean it’s great because i’m a virgin too” you started to giggle in order to diffuse the tension between you both. jaemin let out a sigh of relief, you truly were the most person person in the world for him.

“so you’re okay with this?” he wanted to affirm once again, earning another enthusiastic nod from you, “yes”

let’s say, the rest of the night took your relationship to the next level.

//

“come on, you two! we’re going to be late!” jisoo hurriedly scurried around the house, looking for her new boots. you all were heading to another one of haechan’s parties. his reasoning was for the ‘mid semester break’ which really was just a long weekend but no one bothered to question him. jaemin opted to be the designated driver, like he always was.

“so are you going to make a move on haechan or what? it’s been months” you slightly teased her as you all entered the car.

“n-no, i can’t flirt to save my life. after the double date, he and i barely talked” jisoo huffed, fixing up her makeup.

“i’ll just have to have a chat to him then” jaemin chimed in, cheekily grinning at the thought. you knew he was going to be up to something, but jisoo decided to ignore her brother’s words, too caught up in her own mind.

as the three of you entered the house, haechan shuffled to greet you all. jaemin met him first, giving him somewhat of a bro hug, followed by you who loosely wrapped your arm around him. once he got to jisoo, he paused, causing her to look up directly at him. he softly chuckled before pulling her into his chest, making you and jaemin snicker in delight. you agreed not to drink much tonight, not wanting a repeat of the last time you got drunk. but jisoo on the other hand, was a complete mess as per usual.

“i’m gonna get some water, want one?” you offered to jaemin as he slowly allowed you to pull away from his warm grip.

“sure, love” you blushed at the nickname he gave you, rushing to retrieve the drinks. as you were in the kitchen, you heard a familiar voice next to you,

“y/n? hey how are you?” renjun’s voice chimed through your ears. you greeted him with a bright smile, slowly fading as you remembered the last time you properly spoke to eachother.

“i’m doing well, and you?” you continued the conversation, sipping on your own cup.

“yeah i’ve been good. you here with anyone?” he asked cautiously, but before you could answer, jaemin cut in,

“she’s with me” you felt his arm wrap around your waist, leaning over to grab his cup. you weren’t sure of what else to say, only able to look at renjun who seemed dumbfounded and a little embarrassed.

“oh, i see. you’re with jaemin, i should have known. have a nice night” renjun scurried off to meet his own friends, wanting to avoid you at all costs.

“you didn’t have to say it in that tone, you know?” you turned to face your boyfriend who had a playful grin on his face.

“i know, it just came out that way, i promise” he brushed his fingertips over your cheeks, making your face slightly heat up.

“jaemin!! y/n!! there you are!!” jisoo ran up to you, grabbing you into some sort of side hug. you helped hold her up as jaemin analysed how drunk she was.

“are you alright?” you questioned, trying to find a seat for her to rest. jaemin followed in suit, watching over the both you closely.

“yes! i’m great! haechan kissed me, well i kissed him and he kissed me back!” she started giggling. you both weren’t sure if she was being delirious or not. until haechan came to meet you all, asking if she was okay.

“she’s had a crush on you like forever you know?” jaemin teases, causing jisoo to slap his chest. haechan started blushing, slowly nodding,

“i-i’m aware. she’s pretty cute” he smirked, watching as jisoo hid her face in your shoulder.

“we should actually get her home to rest, and stop her from embarrassing herself further infront of you. but call her in the morning, yeah?” jaemin shook hands with the other boy, hooking one of jisoo’s arms over his shoulders and you copied with her other arm. haechan led you to the front door, bidding you all a goodbye. jisoo was mumbling endless compliments towards haechan, too drunk to even care what she was saying.

“like i wanna kiss him so bad and run my hands through his fluffy hair” she giggled as jaemin started the car. you both found the entire situation entertaining, recording bits of her rambling for future blackmail. as you reached their house, you helped jaemin lead her to her bed, much like the first time. once jisoo was tucked safely in bed, finally fast asleep, you changed into more comfortable clothes before hopping into jaemin’s bed.

“i’m getting some massive déjà vu right now” he teased, jumping right next to you as he pulled you to his side. you softly played with his hands as you placed small kisses over his knuckles.

“i’m glad you were there to look after us that night. otherwise we’d never be where we are now” you muttered, feeling frostiness slowly taking over.

“i’m just glad you’re here right now. i’m too used to climbing through your window. maybe you should come through mine sometime” he joked,

“i think we should start getting used to front doors don’t you reckon?” you retorted, causing him to pull you on top of him.

“don’t be such a smart ass” he mumbled before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. the rest of your night consisted of endless rambling and chatter on the most random topics, before you both fell asleep.

being jaemin’s girlfriend was always a secret fantasy when you were kids. but now you were wrapped in his arms, all you could think about was how happy jaemin made you. you were grateful to find someone who understood you, someone who cared for you, someone who gave you comfort. being inlove with na jaemin made you feel on top of the world. And if you’re lucky, if you’re the luckiest person on this entire planet, the person you love decides to love you back.

a/n: not the one tree hill quote as my finishing sentence oops 

[songbirdstyles]

sparks

summary: you’re a music journalist assigned to covering one of harry styles’ gigs, and he’s absolutely smitten with you. (part one.)

warnings: slight fluff, excessive liberties taken about music journalism; smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters

word count: 8.2k

inspo.: almost famous - cameron crowe; sparks - the who; hello, i love you - the doors

You’d never truly gotten a big assignment before - sure, you’d gotten a few pieces here and there detailing local LA bands that you knew would never live to see more than 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and they mostly ended up buried by your higher-ranking coworker’s higher end stories on the front covers - and, for the most part, you’d honestly been fine with it. You’re fresh out of college, the newest recruit to your company and your colleagues who are sent out to tour with big bands and artists have been here for years, some even decades, and you suppose they deserve the opportunities more than you, don’t they?

You work your way up, your boss had told you the first day you’d started working, following him around like an eager puppy as he showed you the office. Eventually - if I’m impressed with you - you’ll get something big.

It’s enough for you. Small bands playing in hole-in-the-wall clubs and restaurants may not be the exact thing you’d envisioned when you’d set your sights on being a music journalist but it’s worked out well for you so far, hasn’t it? You’ve made friends - even dated the lead singer of an underground rock band who cheated on you hardly two weeks into the relationship - and your portfolio is slowly building, stacked with exposés and detailed recounts of small gigs that you’d watched from backstage. Eventually, you’ll leave this company and move on to something bigger, like Rolling Stone, and your career will take off until you’re practically the face of music journalism.

And, really, those dreams have carried you through college and the first year of your career, putting your all into every article and every piece just so your boss can tug you into his office one day with a rarely-seen grin to finally tell you -

“I want you to write an article on Harry Styles.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in the cushy office seat that your boss has for guests in his office. It’s a facade that you’ve learned to acknowledge, because, no matter how much he makes it look like he appreciates guests in his office, you know he regards you as nothing more than an interloper, even if he’d invited you there to begin with. “Harry Styles?”

“You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” Mike asks, light shining off his bald head, and your mouth opens and closes a few times uselessly. 

“Of course I have!” You push yourself to sit up straighter in your seat, staring up at your boss with shock written in every feature of your face. You, writing about Harry Styles? God, you nearly want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. “Write an article about - about what?”

Mike scoffs in that pretentious way that makes you hate ever having to talk to him, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “He’s coming to do a few shows along the West Coast. You can go to one or two - talk to him a bit, talk to his band - you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With small bands, sure - Tacocat and - and the Mystery Lights -” You swallow thickly, and Mike stares down at you in your seat like he’s unimpressed with your enthusiasm, or lack thereof. And it’s not that you aren’t executed - but, Christ. Going from bands performing in underground clubs to Harry Styles is like going straight from crawling to flying a fucking plane and you’re not sure if any of your experience with the musical locality in LA could prepare you for that. “I mean, that’s huge, Mike.”

“It is huge,” Mike confirms, crossing his thick arms over his chest, leaning against the desk before you as though he’s immune to sitting in his seat behind his desk like a normal boss. “Do you not want to do it? Because Melissa, you know - she’d love to, was going on and on about it last week -”

“No!” Your cheeks flush at the volume your voice raises to, and if you didn’t know better you could swear you see the ghost of a grin on Mike’s face. “I want to, Mike, I really want to - it’s just crazy.” There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, your boss nodding smugly down at you as you struggle for words, before you ask the question burning the tip of your tongue with its desire to be heard. “But - why me? I’m sure you have people more qualified for it -”

“Easy,” Mike says, cutting you off and you’d be annoyed in any other instance but you’re too desperate to hear his answer. “Look, Harry’s a young guy. Younger than anyone else our people have interviewed - I think he’ll respond more to a young, pretty girl like yourself than someone older than him.”

Well, that makes sense, you suppose. The only coworker even close to you in age is Melissa, and she’s pushing 30 as it is. You’re 23 - graduated college just over a year ago, and by far the newest recruit this company has taken in years - but you had always imagined that was the main reason you wouldn’t get many big articles, and here it’s the main factor in you getting what will surely be the highlight of your portfolio once you apply to Rolling Stone. An interview with Harry Styles - God, they’ll probably foam at the mouth when they see it, and a grin spreads across your face as you think of it.

“Is that a yes?” Mike questions, blonde eyebrows raised high and nearly disappearing into his scalp. 

“Of course,” you respond without another moment of hesitation, and you push yourself to stand, office chair rolling behind you with the force, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thump. “Yes - of course - of course.”

“Great.” And he crosses to the other side of his desk, pushing aside a few loose papers and folders on his desk, and you clutch your hands in front of your stomach as you watch him, practically bouncing up and down with uncontained joy and fear bubbling inside of you. The last time you’d felt like this was the first time you got a real assignment - more than just ranking songs and discussing new album releases - and you’d been sent to a strip club to cover a gig from an up-and-coming band. Back then, you’d never expected to ever feel more excited over anything in your life, and yet, here you are, eight months later, fighting back the urge to burst into joyful tears. “They come in a week - I’ll send you the address - if you need help with your questions -”

“I’ll ask Francine,” you finish the same advice he gives you every time you’re assigned an article, referring to your oldest coworker - a little old woman who’s been with the company since the 70s. She’s always been more than willing to help you with your assignments but this - you need to do this by yourself. “Thank you so much, Mike, this is - this is great.”

“Don’t let me down,” he says, pointing his finger at you, and you nod furiously. “I’m trusting you on this - it’s a big opportunity.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you promise, holding up your crossed fingers just to show him how much you mean it, and you know it’s the truth - you’ll make this piece the best damn one this company has ever seen if it’s the last thing you ever do. 

 ~~

 The night begins a bit - rocky, to say the least.

For one, you couldn’t decide what to wear, even after spending nearly a half hour trying on every variation of clothes in your closet and tossing them onto the floor of your studio apartment when they didn’t satisfy your needs. In the past you’d worn to gigs what you’d wear if you were a simple concertgoer, albeit a bit more modestly, but you can’t decide what you would wear to a Harry Styles concert if you got the regular chance to - and you’d never even dreamt that it would happen in the first place -

Well, you peruse your closet intently and land on a pair of patterned flare pants and a long sleeve sweater. It only seems fitting for the chilly weather outside, and you fold a shirt into your bag in case you need to change if it gets hot backstage. You’re not dressed to impress, necessarily - you’re dressed to get a job done, as Mike would always say, but how could you be expected to not attempt to impress Harry Styles? It’s a preposterous idea. You’re sure anyone would understand.

Journalism pass - phone - keys - deodorant - when you’ve checked your bag over three times to ensure you have everything necessary you finally leave, locking your door shut behind you and ordering an Uber to take you to the concert.

You hadn’t anticipated Uber and Lyft being absolutely overloaded with patrons due to the concert just a half hour away and you need to be there by 6:30 at the very latest to ensure you get in and can at least talk to Harry before he goes on - a quarter of your questions are geared towards how he feels pre show and you can’t get pre show questions after the show - that’s barbaric. But the minutes inch closer to 5:30 and your Uber driver is still ten minutes away and your heart beats so fast against your chest you think you might vomit right into the street in front of your building -

You’re in the car by 5:45. It’s not ideal, and you know you’re cutting it close, but hopefully you’ll be there before the soundcheck ends. It’s always an ideal time to take photos, watching the band warm up and check mics, and with a piece like this, you need all the opportunities for pictures you can get.

And traffic is horrible - you suppose that’s also to be expected, and your Uber driver curses in a language you can’t recognize as cars cut him off on the highway and if you were a different person, you’d recommend a shortcut he takes, but he doesn’t look like he wants to hear a single word come from your mouth. He had given you a dirty look when you entered the car, and that’s enough to make you shut up and pray for the entire car ride that you make it on time.

6:27. Mike would piss himself if he knew how close you cut it, and you hop out of the car with a speed you didn’t even know you could muster, pushing past the buzzing crowd standing in front of the main entrance. The hoard of people seems to have a steady heartbeat, pulsing with excitement much like your own, and you can’t help but smile as you make your way around the group, goosebumps cropping up over your skin as your teeth chatter in the coldness. For a moment you fear that the directions to the backstage entrance that Mike had given you were total bullshit - but then you see the door, blocked by a burly security guard that glowers at you as you walk up to him like you’re something sticky beneath his shoe.

“Hi!” you call, breath exploding in a white cloud in front of you in the cool night air. The security guard smells so strongly of booze that you need to try harder than you’d care to admit not to scrunch your nose - you cough softly. “Let me - um - find my pass - I’m with Autoamerican, the magazine?”

Fingers grab onto your journalism pass, deep within your bag, and you tug it out, flashing it to the security guard with a slightly nervous grin. All of the gigs you’d been to before hadn’t even had backstage doors - to get backstage, you just had to climb onto the stage and walk behind the wings - but this is a fucking stadium, not just a measly club, and a big one, at that. In your youth you’re sure you could recall your dad watching a football game that occurred in this very stadium - funny how life turns out, sometimes.

“Autoamerican?” the security guard questions, bringing his face closer to your badge as the wafting smell of alcohol increases, and he raises his eyebrows with a scoff. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh.” you pause, feeling your teeth beginning to chatter in the cool February air. You’re not quite sure what to say - you’d assumed Mike had called to arrange the entire thing, hadn’t he? And this is the time you’re supposed to be here - “well, we’re not as big as Rolling Stone magazine, but - we’ve done interviews with The Cure, The Smiths - even Zeppelin, at one point -”

Your voice trails off into silence. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like you’re some innocent teenage girl, trying to bribe your way backstage so you can bombard the artist and not a fully grown woman here on business, goddammit. And you’re not sure what to say - he doesn’t believe you, clearly, and you hadn’t anticipated that even as you listed all the ways tonight could go wrong.

“Look, kid,” he begins, and that really has your blood boiling, eyes narrowing to glare at him. “We get this all the time. I’m a journalist - I’m with the crew - it’s a bunch of bullshit. Now go to the front with your general admission tickets like the rest of them -”

“I have a pass - I’m a journalist!”

“Sure -”

“I can call my boss if you want proof!”

And before you can reach into your bag to search relentlessly for your phone to follow through on the promise like you intend to, the door the man is guarding suddenly swings open, nearly hitting the guard in the ass as it opens out. You take a step back as dim light from inside floods the darkness, and a man steps out of the doorway, his eyes darting between you and the security guard.

“Are you with Autoamerican?” the man questions, raising his finger to point at you as though he could be speaking to anyone else. You nod furiously, and you hold up your journalism pass again just to prove it. “You can come inside, then - c’mon, Steve, she’s got a pass, for God’s sake -”

And you can’t resist flashing the guard a smug smile as he steps to the side to let you inside, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that all you can see is a strip of white.

The man lets you inside and the door shuts behind you, and you nearly knock straight into a second security guard standing by the door inside, as though trying to stop people from going out. And, well - you’ve been backstage at more concerts than you could count but this is certainly bigger, better, bustling with people carrying equipment and makeup artists and more people you couldn’t possibly identify. You’re half inclined to reach into your bag and grab your notebook to jot down exactly what you’re seeing so you can make sure to include it in the article, but you have a distinct feeling you’ll never forget it.

“I’m Jeff,” the man tells you, already setting off through the people, and you’re quick to follow, trying to maintain your pace beside him. After a second of walking in silence you realize he’s waiting for you to say yours - you clear your throat and introduce yourself, and he sends you a smile. “The band just finished their soundcheck, if you’d like to have a word with them before they go on - what’s the article about, anyway?”

Jeff shoulders the two of you through lingering groups of people until you emerge into a small hallway lined with doors, and you can hear bustling noise coming from the one closest to you - holy shit, is that Harry? 

“Um - just about the shows, the tour, how everything’s going. My boss basically told me to do what I want with it, so I’ll have a better idea once I speak to the band.” It’s the loosest instruction you’ve ever been given for a piece - you’d expected a clear cut outline - but perhaps with an artist this big, Mike trusts you to know what to write. “It likely won’t be anything too personal, but I’d love to get a chance to speak with Harry before and after.”

“Sounds great,” and you can tell he’s stressed - you wonder if he’s always anxious before his client’s shows, or if there’s something special about tonight that has him worried - and then he reaches past you, twisting the doorknob closest to you and holding the door open for you to enter before him, and you give him a gracious smile before walking in.

The room isn’t as crowded with people as you’d expected but they’re bustling with energy - a woman and a man, holding a guitar, lean against the wall with each other - two other women sip water bottles, laughing loudly amongst each other - another woman leans above someone, their body hidden from view except for their legs, covered in silk, floral printed pants -

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff shuts the door behind you both, and the sound of the door clicking shut draws far more attention to yourself than you’d expected - it seems like every pair of eyes lands on you and Jeff, and you’d decided on being a music journalist to keep away from being the center of attention. You’ve always preferred being behind the scenes, a bit, at least until your career progresses until you’re a household name for music journalism, and now -

You feel very much in the scenes, eyes on you as Rhiannon plays in the background.

And then Jeff is tapping you on your shoulder, leading you around the room to the small groups of people lingering - you shake hands with Mitch and Sarah, the couple against the wall, and the rest of his band, and they’re so nice your smile feels like it’s going to break your face in half. You’ll need to interview them at some point - nothing too intense, and you may not even need to, if Harry’s answers are satisfactory enough - and you can already feel yourself building a strange sort of rapport with the band, their kindness rubbing off on you until you practically glide beside Jeff to the woman bent over Mr. Floral Pants, whose identity you’re fairly certain you’ve already deduced.

It doesn’t make it any more surprising when the woman steps aside where she’s carefully applying powder to the man’s face, and then Harry fucking Styles is staring up at her with a smile and an outstretched hand, suit jacket matching the floral pattern of his pants. His curls are carefully slicked back from his face, skin matte with the powder the woman resumes applying to the side of his face that isn’t turned to you, and you swallow your shock before reaching to shake his hand, Rhiannon turning into Hello, I Love You, playing from a source you can’t identify.

“Nice t’meet you,” Harry says when you’ve told him your name and the magazine you work for - Jeff had already mentioned it, but it is customary to repeat it to whomever you may have to interview. “Y’know, I love Autoamerican - told Jeff, s’the only magazine I’d let interview me backstage. Don’t usually allow it.”

“Really?” your stomach flips as Harry stops bouncing his arm, but it takes just another half second for him to untwine his hand from yours - you’re sure it’s because the makeup artist fretting above him is using her thumb to wipe off powder from his nose, but it still makes your heart thump faster against your chest. “I assumed most people haven’t heard of it - it’s nowhere near Rolling Stone.”

“I love it,” he insists, dropping your hand, and he looks so casual, as if this interaction isn’t blowing up your entire life, and you’re brought back to the many moments you’d spent as a teenager fawning over him in his One Direction days - God, this feels like a dream, and you’re half inclined to pinch yourself in case it is. Maybe you’ll wake up in Mike’s office to him giving you another shitty underground LA band to interview. “The interview with Sublime s’great - read it all the time.”

You swallow thickly, grin spreading wider across your face, and before you can open your mouth to tell him about Francine’s go-to story about how Eric Wilson had flirted with her while she interviewed them for the story, Jeff interjects - “Steve hadn’t even heard of it.”

“Steve’s an idiot,” Harry starts, and you giggle - his lips lilt upwards just a bit. “Hope he wasn’t hasslin’ you ‘bout it.”

“Just a little,” you say, hoisting your bag further up your shoulder just as the makeup artist drops the powder back into the apron slung around her waist, and her manicured nails tilt Harry’s head around for a moment before she seemingly deems his makeup satisfactory before leaving, sending you a tight lipped smile as she goes. “I’d love to ask you a few questions before the show - nothing too heavy - and then I’ll observe the concert and how everything goes, ask a few questions after.”

“Sounds great,” Harry responds, lifting his fist with his thumb up and you didn’t think your heartbeat could grow any faster or louder but you suppose today is just proving you wrong time and time again. “D’you need t’record m’answers? S’a bit loud in here.”

The truth is, you’re sure you’ll have this entire experience engraved in your brain for years to come - you’ll remember every word he utters for you until your dying days - but it is more practical to have a recording. You swing your bag off your arm and open it, digging through the jumbled mess of items inside until you find your phone, and you hold it up with a nod. “Yeah - there isn’t anywhere a bit quieter, is there?”

It takes a minute of bustling - Jeff tells you two instructions to go down the hall into another room where you may find more silence - and Harry promises, accent thick and eyes rolling, to be back in twenty minutes or less, if tha’s enough time for you, ma’am, and you try to trick yourself into thinking the burn flushing up your cheeks is due to the heat of the room.

Down the hall is another door that Harry opens for you, letting you walk in first. It’s a small room, clearly meant for storage, and he shuts the door behind the pair of you. There’s - luckily, or perhaps unluckily - just enough room for you two have at least a few feet between you, and he leans against the wall with an air of casual elegance you couldn’t hope to achieve as you scroll through your phone to search for the voice recorder app.

“Hope this s’good enough - is it?” Harry inquires, leaning his head closer to yours, and you nod. “Good - wish there was a nicer spot for you, but -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interject, smiling up at him, and he grins back, and your stomach churns violently. You almost feel like you could vomit - when he goes on, you’ll go and have a bit to eat at the table set up with foods that Jeff had wheeled you past when you arrived. Eating seems to solve more of your nerves than you’d care to admit, and you feel like you’re nearly 95% nerves right now. Your fingers fiddle with the voice recorder app, adding a title to the recording while entirely too focused on the sounds of Harry’s breathing above you, and you can practically fear his eyes boring into your face before you press record. 

And, for the most part, it does go smoothly. Harry introduces himself with an ease that only comes with years of practice, so much time spent being interviewed that it must feel like as much of a second nature to him as interviewing is to you. He’s charming and charismatic - flirtatious, even - making jokes and adding lines that you make a mental note to be sure to include in your final piece - whatever direction you go - and you can’t say you’re bothered by the way he leans closer to the phone, and thus closer to you, in order for his voice to be heard more on the recording when occasional noise bustles in from outside.

You don’t need to look at the questions you’d spent weeks laboring over - every question you inquire derives directly from his answers like he’s practically feeding them to you, and then you’re interviewing him so naturally, you could nearly fool yourself into thinking it’s an organic conversation between friends. 

What’s his process to prepare for shows? Well, listening to Fleetwood Mac and eating finger foods, of course - he loves mozzarella sticks. Does Fleetwood Mac make you less nervous for shows? No, he doesn’t get too anxious before shows, now that he’s out of the band. He just loves Fleetwood Mac - he could listen to them at any time of the day. What do you think makes your solo career less anxiety-inducing than being in the band? Different fans let him be himself more. There’s less pressure to be someone he isn’t - do you think he could’ve worn a floral printed suit at a One Direction concert?

And, in the end, twenty minutes hardly feels like it, and by the time Harry tilts his head over the screen of your phone to check the time, you could nearly convince yourself that you’d merely spent a minute with the heartthrob, and it pains you to stop the recording.

“How’d I do?” he questions, cheeky smile indenting the dimple in his cheek, and you feel like you need to dip your face in ice once he goes on stage - your face hasn’t felt anything less than piping hot since the first moment he rested eyes on you, and his kind-bordering-on-flirtatious nature only makes your skin heat more under his gaze.

It isn’t as though you’d have it any other way, though.

“Perfect,” and you send him a smile. “I’ll watch the show - probably eat a bit, too, if I’m being honest - and maybe ask you a few questions. How many shows are you doing in LA?”

Harry reaches past you, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door for you once more, and you slip out with a small smile as he follows, face twisted in what’s clearly a show of being in deep thought. “Four. An’ a few more on the West Coast ‘fore we move out - reckon you’ll need t’come t’a few more?”

“Depends.” He looks at you curiously as the two of you make your way back to the room you’d been in before, and when you enter, it’s clearly in a more prominent state of preparation for the show - there’s more bustle and movement between every band member and Jeff, who looks entirely relieved to see you two come in as She’s a Rainbow thumps softly, volume clearly turned down on whatever produces the music. “If I feel like I’ve got enough material from this show, then that’ll be it - I usually just do reviews of specific gigs, and this is a lot broader - so I really don’t know.”

Harry nods, and you feel a flutter in your heart at how intently he seems to be listening to you, like he really cares, and you’re sure it’s a facade - he probably has a million other things on his mind as Jeff descends upon the both of you, whisking him away as he calls goodbye! to you - but still. When was the last time you’d felt listened to? By Mike, or by the security guard outside, or even from your own parents when you try to convince them over and over that you have a plan, that your degree wasn’t a waste of time when you could’ve been a doctor -

Well, Harry’s a gentleman, you decide, sliding your phone into the back pocket of your flares as you reach in your bag for your notepad. You can tell they’re preparing to go on soon and so you descend against the wall, grabbing your pen from deep inside the confines of your bag to scribble the essential notes of what you’ll need - it’ll make it easier when it’s time to write, rather than listening to the entire 20 minute interview again to try and find the important sections to include.

His responses to your question still burn fresh in your mind, and you began scribbling your bullet points on the small notepad in your hands. It’s decently easy to block out the chatter of the room you’re in along with its music, volume turned down further until it’s hardly audible, and it really is a skill you’ve mastered, though you suppose you’ve had to - trying to take notes for articles about gigs occurring in buildings so small that their noise reverberates off of every surface has made you a master in tuning out noise surrounding you.

You are aware, and acutely, at that, when the band starts exiting through the door beside you. They don’t look nervous, returning your encouraging smiles with ones of their own, and you watch them pour out the door with confidence practically radiating off of them. Well, that’s something to mention, isn’t it? Most of the bands you’d interviewed were practically vomiting with nerves -

Harry takes up the rear, fingers running through his slicked back hair, and you can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or if he’s simply trying to let his curls fall in front of his eyes more. Jeff walks in front of him, giving you a smile as he leaves, and the singer stops beside you.

Your breath just about catches in your throat as you look up at him, and he’s staring down at you with a decidedly ambiguous look in his eyes, and you smile at him. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re gonna come and watch?”

You nod. “Eventually - I’m gonna eat something first, finish my notes. Maybe give myself a tour of the backstage in case I decide to include it.”

“Sounds good t’me,” Harry says, but he doesn’t make a motion to leave, and then his eyes roll down your body and is he fucking checking you out? Because - no - that’s crazy. That would cement into your brain the knowledge that this is a dream, and not reality, because there’s no fucking way Harry Styles is checking you out, eyes roaming from your eyes to your stomach to your - “I like your pants. Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ah. Of course. Fashion icon, he is, inquiring about the pants you’d chosen specifically because they looked like something he may like. “These?” You glance down as though you’d forgotten what pants you’d donned, as though you hadn’t spent hours in front of your closet envisioning what outfit you could wear to impress him. “I think they’re from Zara. Got them a couple years back.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Why, thank you -”

“Harry!”

Jeff’s voice calling from outside the room snaps you both out of your conversation, a slightly embarrassed grin spreading across Harry’s face that you’re sure is mirroring your own. His cheeks are tinged pink and he clears his throat.

“Sorry - gotta go - make sure y’try the mozzarella sticks, ‘kay? They’re good,” Harry tells you, and you grin, drumming the pen clutched between your fingers against the notepad in your hands.

“Will do,” you reply, and then you lift your hand and point to the door, raising your eyebrows with a smile. “Go break a leg - and then be ready to talk about it when you’re done!”

He doesn’t say anything else - just gives you a thumbs up and slips out the door, and you can hear his frenzied apologies to Jeff as their voices fade away, surely preparing to get on stage and sing his heart out and blow the fucking stadium away, but you can hardly focus on it. Because - God, you really don’t want to sound like a narcissist - but he was joking around with you, complimented your pants, and he did technically check you out, even if it was just to see your pants. 

Was he flirting with you?

Surely not. No, that would be absurd. He’s probably just bored - maybe entertaining random people backstage is his way of dealing with his nerves.

That makes a bit more sense.

When you glance back down at your notepad, the page half filled with scribbled bullet points of things you’d sworn to remember, and when you click your pen open to continue your list, you find that you can’t quite think of anything else to write. All you can think about is the mozzarella sticks waiting for you, and then standing in the wings to watch him sing his heart out to a crowd of adoring fans that you, at one point, would have killed to be apart of -

You shove your pen and pad back into your bag with a determined spin of your heels. Food first - contemplation second.

 ~~~

 The show is - needless to say - amazing.

You’d feasted on slightly-cold mozzarella sticks that were, even in their lowered temperatures, immensely good, and clearly garnered all the affection Harry had for them. The food table was nearly completely empty, crew members repeatedly coming up to fill plates with vegetables and snacks, and so you simply gathered the last three sticks of celery once you were done with your sticks before taking a leisurely stroll along the backstage area. Celery firm between your teeth, you pulled out your notepad and your pen once more and jotted notes of what you could possibly include in the article to jog your memory later -

It takes a while, admittedly. You don’t want to leave anything out, and eventually you have two pages filled with notes in your handwriting that would surely be illegible to anyone else who happened upon them - and, sure, your pages are small, but still. Two pages is a lot, and you’re sure most of it won’t even make it into the article but you don’t want to risk forgetting any important information.

A trip to the bathroom - perusing the food table again to pick up the last few carrot sticks - and the show is nearly halfway over, so you decide it may be time to slip into the wings and watch. Take notes, possibly, but mainly just listen and absorb the music and the atmosphere and exactly how the fans react to his every move. That’s what the people want to know, isn’t it? It’s what you would want to know - so you slip past the lingering groups of people into the wings of the stage, where you get a clear view of Harry and his band, singing his heart out to a tune you know to be Kiwi.

It’s ear splitting, truly, in a way that none of the other gigs you’d witnessed had been. But it sounds good - better than good - and he’s as charismatic on stage as he is off,  waggling his eyebrows during the more suggestive lines and undoing the button of his suit jacket, and the latter garners a deafening scream from the adoring fans in the crowd. 

No, you won’t need to take notes, at least not yet. You’ll remember this forever, won’t you? Watching him work the crowd like he was born to do it, like it’s a second nature and you’re sure it is, at this point. It’s all you can do to stand there, watching him, and you’re sure you look no different from the other fans in the crowd, your eyes wide and lips parted in absolute awe of him -

His head turns to the side, briefly, as if he can sense your eyes on him above anyone else’s. In reality you’re sure he’d simply turned his head to flick a sweaty curl out of his face but it’s never a bad thing to dream right? And your gaze locks for just a moment, his eyebrows raising when he sees your face, and heat burns at your cheeks before his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his right eye shuts in a quick wink before he’s turning back to the crowd as if his attention had never left them.

Shit. You nearly drop your damn carrot. God, he’s a fucking tease, and you’re not even sure he knows it - that this experience will never leave your brain for as long as you walk this Earth, watching him wink as he stared into the depths of your fucking soul, clad in a gorgeous suit with his gorgeous hair and -

Harry truly is a sight to behold, and you’re more than content to watch him forever.

Forever ends up being another half hour or so before you’re made entirely too aware of the fact that you have to pee - not insanely bad, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably from side to side before sighing, turning and making your way further backstage in your search for the bathroom. In your determined tour of the backstage you’d forgotten to search for the restroom, and you wander about for nearly five whole minutes before getting to it -

You do your business. There’s not much more explanation needed.

It’s when your washing your hands, though, water freezing cold against your palms, that you become slightly aware of a myriad of noises occurring outside the restroom. At first you choose not to focus on it, shoving your hands beneath the air dryer to ease your soaking, cold hands, and the noise of violent air assaulting your palms drowns out the scuffling sounds from outside.

When the dryer turns off, and you reach down to wipe your damp hands on your pants, the noises haven’t stopped. And, sure, no one could expect it to be completely silent backstage, but whatever you’re hearing isn’t the normal laughter and chatter and muffled music that you’re used to hearing -

It sounds like someone is fighting, and your hand freezes in its place on the cool metal doorknob. You lean forward, scrunching your nose as you plainly try harder to hear what’s happening -

But, Hell. You have a job to do - you need to get back to the wings to watch the remaining few minutes of the set before Harry leaves and, subsequently, returns for the encore, and you’d intended to write with detail about his closing repetition of Kiwi. So you grab the doorknob, swing the door open and step out, and freeze nearly immediately once you’ve exited.

There is a fight - not as violent as you’d expected - as the security guard from inside scuffles with Steve, who looks positively wasted in a way you’ve come to know all too well, doing gigs in LA. His face shines with a sheen layer of sweat, skin glowing in the artificial light, and his fists move slowly to pummel into the other security guard’s back. It’s, truthfully, a bit pathetic to watch - he isn’t putting up much of a fight against the guard trying to hold him, and your mouth parts with poorly-concealed confusion at the display in front of you.

You’re not sure what to say - or do - or think - standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you watch the poor excuse of a fight, Steve nearly toppling to the ground as the other guard tries to contain him.

“Come on, Steve - don’t be like this -”

Then the other security guard looks up and sees you, and the expression on his face nearly makes you burst into laughter, but you contain it with a bit more difficulty than you’d like to admit. He looks annoyed, like he’s absolutely done with his coworker, and also slightly embarrassed. Clearly, he’d dragged Steve into the hallway containing the bathrooms with the hopes of nobody seeing either of them, and you’ve interrupted his bid for privacy desperately. “Sorry, ma’am,” the guard says, grabbing one of Steve’s flailing fists in his hands. “Don’t mind us - he’s drunk - just trying to contain him.”

You’re doing a damn good job, you want to say, but you bite back the retort with a small nod and a whisper of a smile on your face, walking with your back to the wall past their display in the hopes of Steve not seeing you. He hadn’t been particularly nice to you when you’d first seen him and you can tell he’s in a much more heightened state, now - he’d been drunk when you’d seen him before and you can tell it’s only gotten worse.

Maybe you should’ve told Jeff the guard was drunk?

Well, it’s counterproductive to dwell on the past.

You’re not so lucky, though - you’ve barely made it down five steps down the hallway before Steve lifts his head, pupils blown and skin even stickier looking than before, and he gives you the same disgusted look as though you’re something his dog had left on the grass. “Hey - hey - Jim - do you know who that is?”

And the other security guard - Jim - just rolls his eyes. “No, Steve, I don’t - stop making a fool out of yourself.”

“She works at - at - Eat to the Beat - Parallel Lines - what is it?”

Do you answer him? You don’t quite know. You just swallow thickly, forcing yourself not to don the smile that’s urging its way onto your lips as you hear roaring screams from the crowd that alerts you to the fact that, if Harry isn’t done with his set yet, he’s close, and you need to watch the end. “Autoamerican. Those are all good albums, though.”

“She’s snarky - get off of me, Jim -”

In Steve’s final bid for freedom his legs kick out, and his sneakered foot knocks into your ankle, and it’s certainly not hard by any stretch of the definition but it’s enough to catch you off balance, his toe hooking into the loose fabric around your ankles as he brings his foot back to kick again. One kick did it, though - you tumble to the ground, legs flying out from under you until you land on your ass on the hard floor, your bag slipping off your shoulder, and its contents scatter across the ground.

Fuck. That hurt, more than you’d care to admit, as you brace your elbows behind you to stop your head from knocking into the ground. Your ass hurts and you can see Steve’s leg bracing backwards for another kick, and you push yourself backwards so his foot merely pushes against the air.

You can already see Jim opening his mouth to desperately say sorry when a set of footsteps interrupts his apology - you don’t have to look to your side to see who it is, the smell of expensive cologne wafting before him like an introduction. You practically feel him before you see him.

Your name falls off Harry’s lips entirely too easily, like he’d been looking for you in the overtly small window of space he has before he has to go back on stage - his hair is messy and his skin is sweaty and he bends down next to you with such sentimentality in his eyes - you almost feel like a child again.

“Are y’okay?” Harry questions, and his hand rests on the small of your back and warmth seems to seep through your body from its spawning point, palm moving in circles against your sweater so gently you can tell he’s scared to go much harder. “Wha’ -?”

For his eyes had just landed on the sight in front of you - Jim managed to pull Steve up, the latter clearly coming to his senses at least a little bit, and his eyes narrow at the sight of you on the floor and subsequently widen as he sees Harry next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” And you can hear anger quivering under his voice like boiling water, ready to overflow, and you instinctively reach up to press your hand against his forearm - you do it to your niece all the time when you can tell she’s on the verge of a tantrum and it always works on her - but she is five, and Harry’s twenty years her senior, so, needless to say, the motion doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Fightin’ back here, kickin’ her - you’re s’posed t’be security guards!”

“It’s okay, Harry -”

“S’not okay -”

And then there’s another set of footsteps jogging over to you, and you look up to see Jeff -

“Har, you need to get back out -” but you can see the confusion set into his features as he stands over the scene, eyes flickering to you and Harry on the floor to Jim and Steve, the former having settled the latter into a fairly calm position. The scent of alcohol is strong and you can practically watch as Jeff smells it, his nose crinkling. “Is he drunk?”

“He is drunk, an’ got into a fight wit’ -”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, squeezing Harry’s arm again as you push yourself to stand, attempting not to wince at the pain in your ass as your muscles tense. He’s looking at you like you’ve just been hit by a car instead of having a mild scuffle with a security guard, eyes wide and concerned, and you shake your head at him. “Didn’t get into a fight, Harry - he accidentally kicked me. It’s really fine - you need to go back out, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jeff insists, reaching down to tug Harry up as his eyes bore into the sight in front of you, Steve slowly calming himself down until he’s simply red in the face and reeking of booze. “Come on, Har - you need to get on.”

But Harry’s already bending down again, grabbing your pen and your notebook and your phone (you can see a crack in the screen that most certainly hadn’t been there just a mere ten minutes ago) and you could nearly laugh at the display he’s putting on, shoving your items back into your back, if Jeff’s demeanor wasn’t bordering on murderous as he drags Harry up again. You reach down and grab your bag, now fully stocked again with all of the items that had clattered out, and you give the tussling security guards one final fleeting look before following Jeff and Harry as they make their way down the hall.

“Y’sure you’re okay?” Harry questions, slowing his pace so you can jog beside him, much to Jeff’s lingering annoyance as he brings his fingers up to rub at the space between his eyes. “Y’should know - tha’ doesn’t usually happen -”

“I get it,” you tell him.

“No, really.” You’ve reached the wings of the stage, and Jeff leaves the pair of you alone to descend on to where the band stands, clearly waiting for the cue to go on. Harry runs a hand through his hair, and he looks oddly exasperated and you wish you could get it through his head that it really isn’t a big deal - “Someone will take care of the guards, okay?”

“Don’t fire them,” you insist, even though you’re sure he has no say in it. “Not Jim, at least.”

“Jim -?”

“The sober one.”

“Oh.” He pauses, dropping his hands to his sides. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Just try.”

“Will do.”

There’s another brief second of silence before you nod towards the stage where he’s needed - the few lowly minutes between the end of the show and the encore has come to an end, and you’re sure people are beginning to wonder if he’s not coming back. “Go on, Har. There’s people waiting for you.”

“M’going!” And he isn’t going, just staring at you with his brows furrowed, and you raise your own with a confused stare. “Are y’gonna come t’any more shows?”

You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer. “Well - maybe. If I need more information.” “You should,” he tells you, and you tilt your head to the side. “Look, I don’t want your only impression of m’shows t’be that they’re violent an’ crazy.”

“I don’t think -”

“Jus’ one more? In two days. I’ll send you th’address. I really want you t’come -”

Before you can process the request Jeff has stepped forward, hooking his arm in Harry’s and practically dragging him towards the stage, and you watch him prance back in front of the audience like it’s his God given purpose and perhaps it is. You’ve never quite met anyone like him, you don’t think, and you’d certainly had a perception of what you’d imagined him to be like based on the insane amount of time you’d spent obsessing over his band when you were younger -

Your mouth feels suddenly dry as you watch him begin, and the music seems to reverberate beneath your skin, and suddenly - without having to think about it much at all, really - you know it won’t take much convincing on his part to get you back for a second night.

[mah-gah-lee]

What a weird family reunion Reggie x  Reader (xLuke)

gif originally posted by @jatpsource​

Word Count: 3515 words

 Summary: You’re Reggie’s little sister. You were 3 when he died. You’re now a ghost for a decade. One night, you recognize your brother and jumped into him to an unexpected family reunion. How is it going to happen? Will Reggie believe you? In a mysterious way, that’s Luke who help you to convinced Reggie.

 Warnings: cuss (language), mention of death, mention of divorce, mention of drugs

 A/N: This is my first fic about jatp characters. Hope you’ll enjoy! keep in mind that french is my first language, so i’m so sorry if there’s some mistakes in my fic

 disclaimer: It takes place during episodes 6 and 7. I do not take into account the possibility of a Juke. The chemistry while they sing is there but no romantic feelings.

 Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ 

 _______

Losing a child is the worst thing a parent could live, losing two is unimaginable. It’s seems being 17 years old was a new malediction in Peters family.

 You were 3 when your older brother, Reginald, died in a weird hot dog accident. At that point, your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce but never did it because of you. You were too young to be in a divided family, according to them. But Reggie's death separated them for good. Yet they really tried to support each other, to overcome that and give you all the attention you needed. But your mother overprotected you and made you live in the shadow of your late brother. Your dad couldn't stand it. And when they finally divorce, moving out from reggie’s childhood house, you went to live with your dad.

 Even though you were too young to form a strong bond with your brother, in a way you missed him. Your mother’s house was full of pictures of him, some of his clothes were still in a room, dedicated to him. When you visited your mother, you didn’t understand why you always found yourself in this room. You were drawn like a magnet to the comforting room. Reggie’s presence in this new house brought you such a sense of security that your mother had repeatedly found you asleep on a pile of your brother’s T-shirts.

 And then you died in 2009. Kanye West had interrupted Taylor Swift's speech at the VMAs, Miley Cyrus hadn't gone crazy yet and One Direction didn't exist yet. What an era! You didn't know why the great light didn't come looking for you but you were there, as a ghost in 2009. And the time has passed ... You've had your best concerts, the best parties. A forever teenager who couldn't eat, drink or sleep.

 And then 2020 came.

 …

 You were tired of always doing the same thing for over a decade, but you couldn't help but go to every open scene that came up in your beautiful city. It was as if an inexplicable force was pushing you to go there.

 This evening was no exception to the rule and you were in a very hip little bar in the city center. You wore one of those sleeveless, gray crop tops with high waisted pants, your leather jacket draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were directly drawn to a group of girls in colorful costumes. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It's been 10 years since you died and it seemed to you that these girls looked like the same plagues that ruined the lives of so many teenagers in your time. You put on an expression of disgust when they all took the stage, but when the music started you couldn't help but admit it was pretty catchy. However, you didn't expect a ghost to appear in the middle of the stage, improvising a choreography. Was that part of the show?

 But looking at the audience's non-reaction, you knew it wasn't. The ghost disappeared for the first time, and your gaze sought directly the distinctive light source of another apparition in the room. Your gaze lingered on a small group of three boys - the blond boy included - and two girls. You have wrinkled your eyes to better distinguish the teenagers, and your face expressed confusion.

 “Reggie? “

 You wanted to go see him so badly. You were pretty sure it was your brother but it all came too fast. The moment you decided to walk towards them, the organizer announced a new band.

 “Okay, looks like we're close the night out with one more group…Julie and the fat ones.”

 What was that for a name? Your attention had been diverted and when you looked back at the group, the boys had disappeared as one of the young girls took the stage. Your heart was beating so fast. You couldn't go wrong; you had seen so many pictures at your mother's house that it was impossible that this boy was not your brother. But you missed your chance…

 Julie started to sing and your eyes were captivated, as much as your ears were. This kid was so talented! When she sang a rather high note, the tension in the room charged into electricity. The next second, the young singer was joined by the group of boys you had seen in her company. Appearing distinctly as the ghosts did. On drums there was the blond boy you had seen dancing a few moments earlier, on the electric guitar, a boy with tousled brown hair who seemed slightly familiar to you ... and on bass, with a flannel shirt, there was your brother ... Reggie was there, identical to the photos you had admired so much.

 The bar was on fire as Julie and The Phantoms performed. What a sick name for a group made up of two-thirds of ghosts! The song was so catchy that your heart beat to the sound of the music. But your eyes did not leave your brother, you were unable to move, frozen in place. What should you do ? Will you introduce yourself after the performance? And, what would you say? "Hey hi Reggie, I'm your sister, I died ten years ago and you twenty-five years ago. Unbelievable, right?! Nice to see you again" And once again, before you knew it, the song was over and the boys were gone again, leaving Julie alone on stage in the bewilderment of the many people in the facility.

 “for God's sake, where are they?”

 You didn't want to miss it anymore. Even though the whole situation was strange, you wanted to see your brother again.

 Your eyes flew over the room before seeing the scene play out before your eyes. Julie seemed petrified in front of a man. The boys watched in amazement and as Julie left with what appeared to be her father, you rushed over to the group of three musicians before they disappeared again.

 “omg please don't poof out again.” You said almost out of breath

 The boys looked at you like you were crazy before the guitarist jumped off the bar counter, bursting with energy.

 "Wait, you can see us?"

 “as much as when mister "all eyes on me" made his performance”, you were pointing your head at the blond boy.

 The group looked at each other in puzzlement and Reggie finally spoke, his blue eyes full of mischief.

 “So…hi there cutie, how can we help you?”

 Your face expressed disgust and you stuck your tongue out mimicking vomiting.

Luke gave Alex an amused smile, seeing Reggie flirting and your spontaneous reaction. The bassist couldn't help but charm the pretty ladies.

 “Wow Reggie, that's gross ... you're my brother.”

  Reggie burst out laughing at your response, not noticing that you called him by his first name when he hadn't even introduced himself to you yet.

 “Yeah right, for sure. You just could tell me you weren’t interested. But I’m charming...”

 It was the first time he had been given such an excuse but you looked so serious that he stopped dead in his tracks as Luke and Alex watched you. They always knew Reggie had a sister. But the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed impossible. (Y / N) was so young when they died and now must have been around 28, something like that. But the girl in front of them was a teenager, their age. How was this possible?

 You didn't want to drop the information like that. It was worse than anything you could have imagined. But it had escaped you. Now he didn't take you seriously. Your eyes were wet with tears. It was scary to find you in front of your brother for the first time as a ghost teenager. Luke looked panicked when he noticed your eyes, squeezing Reggie's shoulder as you seemed to beg.

 “Can I ... can I meet you in a quieter time please, Reginald?”

 Your brother's eyes widened as Luke's hug on his shoulder tightened a bit. The eagerness and desperation in your voice had made both boys react, Alex was just looking at all of you like all of this wasn't real. The use of Reggie's name made him tense, surprised. Few called him Reginald. In fact, only his family, and the boys when they wanted to annoy him, called him that way. And although his nickname is obvious enough to deduce his

full first name, he deeply felt that you weren't just anyone.

  He seemed a little panicked and looked around for his friends to support him. As if the solution would fall by itself just by the presence of Luke and Alex.

 “Okay, but I want Luke and Alex’s there! What about tomorrow? I’ll give you the address!”

 Wow, that was quick.

 “hm, yeah, yeah sure, as you want”

 You nodded and Reggie silently slipped a note to the drummer. Alex took a pen, write something on a paper towel and gave it to you. You weren’t surprise, you also can make some tricks. And you just had the time to thanks them before they poofted again.

 …

 The next day, you landed in front of Julie's garage. Lucky she's at school because you shouldn't be explaining your presence, so she managed to see you the way she saw boys.

 Before entering, you peeked out the window and frowned. There seemed to be only Luke so far. He was leaning over the piano, his head in a notebook. Your body went through part of the garage door and you cleared your throat.

 “hmm, hi ... i came to see Reggie ..”

 Luke instantly raised his head and you caught his attention.

 “oh uh, hi! He should be here soon, come in.….”

 Silence felt as Luke motioned for you to sit on the couch. It was a rather pleasant studio; the plants gave a warm atmosphere to the room and the music set sent you good vibes.

 "Does your girlfriend mind that I'm here? I mean, that seems to be your HQ"

 "girlfriend?"

 "The girl you sing with" I simply said.

 "Julie? Um, yeah, she's not my girlfriend. She-sh-she’s great and we have this powerful connection but…not, not in a romantic way. Music tied us. Music and friendship "

 Luke chuckled lightly as he scratched his head. You were surprised they weren't dating. Yesterday the tension was intense. He seemed authentic when he had continued his momentum. You let out a smile amused by so much overflow.

 “It's okay, I don't need to know your full relationship statute or your social security number.”

 The guitarist gave you a frank smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. For a ghost, his gaze was really alive.

 “ I’m Luke, by the way”

 "Y / N… Re .."

 "Reggie's little sister… I-I remember you a little."

 "You look familiar to me. Maybe I saw you in a few pictures with Reggie."

 Silence fell and you started to feel anxious. Maybe it was a bad idea? You had grown up since Reggie died ... were you still his little sister after all? Luke seemed to notice your dismay and put a comforting hand on your knee.

 “hey, is something bothering you?”

 “What if he doesn't believe me ... if he definitely thinks I'm not his sister.”

 “Let's be honest, it's a little hard to believe. The last time I saw you, you were three years old.”

 It was as if the memories flooded into your mind and let you carried away in your words.

 “Yeah, you gave me this teddy bear with a guitar and told Reggie you wanted to be my favorite.”

 Luke chuckled slightly before staring at you, speechless. He seemed dazed. This anecdote dates back to twenty-five years anyway. He himself had a hard time remembering it until you said it a few seconds earlier.

 “what was the smell of the stuffed animal?” he asked, confused about that funny fact

 “sorry, what?”

 “the plush, what did it smell like?”

 “hot waffle, why?”

 “okay ... maybe you are his sister ... tell me more about what you remember”

 You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Everything had been so natural before he stopped in all the movements. And now, it was hard to think about for the memories you had of Reggie on demand. The teddy bear given by Luke story had slipped out of your mind without you realizing it. As your brain seemed to boil, the fog of your thoughts cleared.

 “can I use your guitar?”

 “hell no ... why?” Luke exclaimed with far too much anticipation

 “I have this lullaby stuck inside of my head ... I think Reggie sang it to me when I was a child”

 Your pleading and desperate gaze fell on Luke who categorically refused to let you take his guitar. He ends up grabbing his six acoustic strings, terminated. There was something about you that made him weak.

 “Maybe you can teach me but ... my guitar is my guitar, nobody touches it.”

 You nodded and the lead singer moved closer to you. You were stunned by its smell, like a distant memory. Luke had definitely been a part of your life before he died, you were sure of that. You leaned over her shoulder, humming the lullaby that was left in your head. It didn't take long for him to find the right chords. Luke continued several times before you stopped singing, looking at him intently.

 “that's exactly it ... this lullaby”

 You both looked at each other, an indecipherable expression in your eyes. You both jumped at the sound of the garage door. Reggie appeared with Alex.

 "Ready to compose hellish songs! oh did I interrupt something?”

 "No, no I was there to see you. I guess you have a lot of questions."

 "hell yeah, can we start from the beginning?"

  You smiled to approve his request. The boys settled down on the sofa, while you sat down on one of the single armchairs. And the flow of questions began

  “When are you born?”

 “(your birthday date) 1992” you simply answered.

 “What’s your name?”

 (y/n) (y/m/n) Peters

 It’s seemed to convinced a little Reggie but doubt was all over his face.  It was information you could easily get on the internet nowadays.

 “What’s my favorite food?”

 “Pizza, mom said your favorite was the extra cheese with pepperoni”

 “And what was my favorite toy?”

 “I freaking don’t know, how can I suppose to known that?”

 “ah ah!” he pointed the finger at you, as if that answer was proof that you were lying. It broke your heart but you didn't show it.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and Reggie kept going to ask you some question. Of course, you would have liked to have answered his questions correctly. Your mother told you some anecdotes about him but not to the point of knowing all the details.

 “What’s the most terrible thing I said to my mom?”

 “Omg I don’t fucking know! I was 3 when you’re died, asshole!”

 Luke smiled when you exploded. Reggie was Reggie, as weird as possible. Now you were angry and desperate. Your brother didn’t believe you and he kept dragging you into this miserable feeling that you were never going to get your brother back. You had spent your short life living with a faint memory of him. Your blankie was one of his t-shirts, his voice reasoned in your head when you couldn’t sleep.

But then, in front of him, you were a stranger to him. Your heart was bruised from not being able to hug him and to finally meet this brother who had left far too soon.

 “Okay, okay… So, how can you proof me you’re really my sister?! “

 In the room’s corner, Luke looked at you, you looked desperate, about to cry again. He grabbed his guitar and cleared his throat. Reggie turned to him as the guitarist still had his eyes on you, a heartwarming smile hanging across his face. You had managed to convince him in a few minutes. He felt connected to you and the things you told him were disturbing. You could only be Reggie's sister; it was impossible otherwise.

 "Hey…What about the song you told me earlier." he said with a soft and comfort voice

 Your eyes caught his gaze, grateful for the initiative. You nodded and Luke started playing the few notes you had taught him a few minutes earlier. It was so different from all the songs the brunette could play before. It was a lullaby, such easy children's music with just a few notes.   Of course, the band wasn’t supposed to play when Julie wasn’t in the room but, Luke had thought it was the best thing to do to encourage you to keep going. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Reggie to believe you. Luke believed you, hard as nails. There only had to look at your eyes to understand this reality, and Luke had noticed that. You had the same blue eyes as your brother. How could Reggie still doubt that? You started to sing

 You're so sleepy

Very much sleepy

You want to go to the fairyland

You close your eyes

And jump into your dream.

When you'll wake up

I’ll still be on your team.

 The instant Reggie heard the first notes, he knew. But hearing you sing the lullaby he had invented for you when you didn't want to sleep as a child, was a magical moment. You were his baby sister. He gave you that sad little puppy face, so overwhelmed. Reggie opened his arms and you jumped into a hug, so glad he finally accepted the fact that you were his sister.

You felt oddly safe again, like taking a nap in Reggie's pile of old t-shirts. You were so happy to find your brother and to be able to live your non-life by his side. Nothing would be as boring as it used to be. Reggie pushed you away with a concerned look

 "but wait ... how did you die?"

 "Yeah ... I don't really know ... I was at a really, really good rock concert and I bought this drink ... and I think I got drugged up there and ... I guess I'm dead? tadaa " you tried to tell him in a light tone.

He had just learned that he had a little sister. He didn't have to know that she was sneaking out at rock concerts and drinking alcohol before she was old enough. Right? Alex looked at Luke and Reggie with his half amused half confused smile. As for Luke, he fidgeted from foot to foot at the discovery. Y / N was as much rock and roll as they all were. Rebellion had to be his middle name

You loosened Reggie's embrace and lowered your head, pursing your lips so as not to show your embarrassment. He asked if you wanted snacks and you nodded. There was a slight silence. You didn't notice the urgent look Luke gave Alex but the next moment the blond jumped up to accompany the bassist, leaving you alone in the garage with the lead singer.

 The silences were a little longer until Luke cautiously approached you. You could feel the awkwardness from miles away.

 “ Sooo, you made this.”

 “ yeah ...” you answered in a shy voice

 It was the moment you had to thank him but your words seemed frozen. You mustered all the courage to plant your gaze in Luke's eyes.

 “Thank you ... for helping me earlier.”

 “oh it was nothing”.

 “I ... yes, yes it was. You can't imagine how important seeing Reggie again is to me. Thanks for ... for helping me open his eyes.”

 A slight smile caught his lips and he reached for your cheek before stopping his gesture. Instead of stroking your skin, he simply put a section of your hair back behind your ear.

 “I would do anything for my best friends.”

 And Reggie was definitely one of Luke’s best friend. You hardly swallowed, your stomach contorting under the effect that the guitarist made you. Time had seemed to fly at an incredible speed as the moment was interrupted by Reggie and Alex coming back to you.

 “OMG LUKE DON’T FLIRT WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S 3!”

 You cleared your throat and stepped aside to pull yourself away from Luke as far as possible. Your gaze fell on your brother and you raised an eyebrow at the last remark. 3 years old, really? You were 3 years old twenty-five years ago ... now you were eternally a teenager

 “I’m seventeen.”

 “Listen, i'm your big brother, you’re three, end of discussion.”

 Your face wanted to laugh and you pursed your lips to keep from succumbing. But your eyes… Your eyes met Luke's in a complicity that slowly settled. Could you fall in love with your big brother's best friend? Definitely yes...

[nctzanne]

Your Last Name

♡ doctor!mark x fem!Reader.♡ smut, fluff if you use glasses

WARNINGS!: use of alcohol and drugs, explicit content, not sex but mentions of it.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: I just want you to give it a try and read it AAAH

𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡?: no, an idea i've had since i started stanning NCT

𝐴𝑛𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡𝑠 & 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠: As i said above, this is an idea I've had for sOOOOOO many months, so I really wanted it to make it happen. It was on my drafts for a long time. Thank you so so much if you take the time to read this.

You noticed when your mind woke up suddenly, but without opening your eyes, slowly bringing you back to reality. You tasted your own mouth dry as a bone, with a metalic flavor on it, typical scenario when we talk about hangovers. The headache that invaded you so suddenly made you grab your forehead, almost if you brain was going to explode right there. The smell of fermentation on the room -or wherever you were- made you nauseous, so you stayed still to avoid vomiting everything you consumed the night before. A light breathing woke you up from your trance and inner speech, you could even feel the warmth of it on your shoulder. That's when you realize you were not alone, totally opposite of that, you were cornered by arms twice your size, avoiding you to move on the super duper comfortable position you were in. You still didn't want to open your eyes to notice who the lucky guy was, but you could smell the hints of tequila on his breath. When that hit your nose, you turned around abruptly by instinct, trying to avoid the smell. You opened my eyes a little, just to be able to locate yourself in space-time.

A room hotel, there's where you were. White walls reflected the light that came from outside of the giant windows, making you cover your eyes with the hand that wasn't under the grip of this unknown guy. Once your eyes get used to the light, you remembered that you were at Bora-Bora for vacations with your best friend. You can hear the eagles screaming way too loud for your irritable state, but just noticing where you were made you feel more calmed. "At least I'm here and they didn't kidnap me" You thought, finally grabbing the courage to turn around and see who exactly was the guy that had a night of passion with you.

"Sure, shit"

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-Wait, repeat it to me, who did you meet? -You asked incredulously, looking at how your friend Rosé was overflowing with emotion and nervousness.

-Do you know this famous band?- She told you a name that you couldn't identify, you automatically shake your head-Anyways, while I was waiting for you on the beach I met with Jaehyun, the bass player, we talked a little and he invited us for a few drinks with his friends!- She talked so fast that you had a hard time processing all the information that was given to you.

-And that's it, a random guy talks to you and you say yes?. He could be a serial killer-

-Ah c'moooon, he's a superstar, it will be funn!!!-

So, a not so official date with guys from a band. Sure, excellent idea.

-Okay, are they handsome at least?- You asked with disinterest

-You can't imagine, y/n, so prepare yourself as well as possible, they will fall for you- she approached the small bridge that united your cabins in the middle of the sea, while she blowed you a flirtatious kiss.

You just laughed and walked towards the windows, admiring the sea. You were literally in paradise, your bedrooms floated above the ocean, the white sand was not so far from where you were staying in, and the horizon was clearer than ever. How lucky you were to have a friend who helped you get over your breakups with a very casual trip to Bora Bora at the Four Seasons hotel. Loneliness invaded you for a second and you decided to get ready for the long-awaited meeting that you would have with her friends.

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A white beach dress with pink heels and your tan is enough, with the right makeup obviously. It was already 7 pm and your nervous friend looked at her cell phone while texting with someone

-Is it him?- You ask, trying to peek behind her shoulder to see if you could figure out what they're talking about.

-Yes, he is telling me he's here at the bar but he doesn't see us-

-Of course, we are sitting, let me raise my hand- and so you did it.

-Here!!!!- Your friend screams in excitement when she sees 3 tall figures approaching to you. They seemed to walk on a slow pace, almost like the came out of a movie. And yes, your heart almost stopped for a good 10 seconds. Three guys, my gosh, models? What were they again?. God definitely had preferences for some human beings.

The fact that they aere so handsome and well… structured made you blush. Jaehyun, Johnny and ...

-Mark, nice to meet you- the youngest of the 3 of them greeted me, with a dazzling smile that makes his dimples appear. You bit your lip and studied his entire face so that you would never forget him again. -y/n, nice to meet you too-

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

Nothing more and nothing less than Mark Lee himself. His makeup was completely smeared, traces of mascara under his closed eyes. His forehead and nose were reflecting the daylight a bit. It was a hot morning (or evening), and having you next to his body was obviously going to make him sweat. His open, broken lips gave off that smell of alcohol that made you sick. But despite of everything, your sight softened after a couple of seconds. He was sleeping so peacefully, and he was clinging to you like his life depended on it, so you couldn't help but smile.

-Mark... wake up- you whispered softly while you tried to get up.

-Hmmmh, what time is it?- his morning voice made my stomach tingle a bit, your sight never leaving his figure while he starts waking up.

He squinted while he sit up in bed slowly, ruffling his own hair. It was obvious that he was in the same blank state you were a few minutes ago, and you could tell by how he confusingly looked around at the room, until his eyes reached at you. His face expression softened, giving you a shy smile.

-Do you need some clothes?- he asked, blushing when he studied your naked torso with lazy eyes. You realized that you both were entirely naked, and you rushed to cover your breasts with your arms, just to earn a pure laugh from him, that made your head resonate in pain.

-We fucked, y/n, no need to hide- Mark put all his weight on his left elbow, getting closer to you while tilting his face flirtatiously. That made you cheeks go red as ever.

-Yes, but I don't remember anything so your point is automatically invalid- His body hovered yours so fast that you couldn't even process what was happening, until he pecked your lips.

-I remember everything, so I will refresh your memory-

You burst out laughing while he deposited soft pecks all over your face. The situation was so sweet, but it didn't make you feel uncomfortable at all. He interrumpted his love actions and looked at you hungrily.

-Mark, I barely can keep myself awake, i feel like I'm going to puke...-You warned him, reading his intentions.

-Okay okay- he looked down defeated- At least, can we cuddle a bit more? I promise I can make the hangover feel better- He tangled his legs and arms to your body, resting his face on your collarbones.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

Everything on that evening was talking about the mortality of a crab. Basics like where you were from, what do you do for a living and relationship status open the conversation.

Your attention was drawn to Mark when he started to introduce himself. As a Medicine student, he decided with his 2 best friends that were part of a band to go on a trip to relax due to the busy schedules that consumes their time. The three live together on a small apartment in Korea, where the rent is expensive so they can make it more affordable.

Bora-bora was the destination of their choice. It seems that the band called NCT 127 draw lot of attention from crazy fans who followed them EVERYWHERE, so an expensive place like so would be easier to have a time for them on their own.

Mark spoke always adding "like" between his words, he liked to lay back when he was sipping on his piña colada, but got closer to the table when you talked about your experience as a journalist.

He tried so hard to show interest on a topic he had no idea about, that his questions were kinda clueless, but it was obvious that it was his way to not cut the attraction and chat between you and him. It was a sexual tension you could feel by kilometers, every gaze you had was followed by a shy smile, and you felt tingles on your body everytime you had a bit of interaction.

-Do you guys do shots?- Rosé interrumpted the conversation, scanning the boys reaction.

-I mean, that's why we are here- Johnny combed his hair backwards, already feeling heated by the 2 gin tonics he drank in 15 minutes. I couldn't deny, him on a tight black shirt looked hot as fuck, I could notice how Rosé was drooling for him- Excuse me, maa'am- he raised his hand, calling the waitress- 3 rounds of shots please!-

-Man, we had 2 yesterday and you almost puked on the sea, go easyyyy- you could notice the tipsy state from Jaehyun as well. His eyes were almost closed on a thin line and his dorky smile betrayed him. Mark laughed out loud, first time in the night you heard him like that, with his cheeks tinted red. He took a big sip of his piña colada, looking at you directly at the eyes. Actually, you didnt noticed till that moment, but your legs started to feel a bit numb. Quite usual for you when the alcohol gets up on your head.

-I'm in!- you answer to Johnny's idea. Once the blue shots arrive, you quickly grab one.

-Cheers for this night to be special- he screams with a deep voice, and the other 2 guys howl as response while you burst out laughing.

When you decided that the amount of alcohol on your body was enough, you took a chance to go to the beach to sing and dance to the DJ placed randomly in there.

You felt bliss, the EDM music was filling your senses, but you tried to keep your eyes full opened so you could remember the beautiful but blurry view of the sunset.

Together with your new group of friends were a mess. Jumping, screaming, raising your hands like you could touch the sky, everything seemed possible at that moment. Even dancing and getting laid with Mark.

The music had nothing to do with your plan, but you got dangerously close to him, resting your arms on his shoulders. You could see that he chuckled, tilting his head back so he could see you fully. Both of you were drunk as hell, you thought you were killing it with the flirting skills, but probably you just looked like two fools trying not to fall for the obvious drunken state you were.

-Do you wanna kiss me?- you screamed while "Jenny" sounded on the speakers. What kind of question is that?

-Sure I do- his canadian accent made you bite your lip while smiling- Can I?- his voice tried to mimic yours, but you didnt answered, it wasnt necessary.

Your lips collided as you got close at the same time, and Mark wasted no time to open his mouth and let his tongue in your wet cavity. You moaned so loud, because you knew no one could hear it but him. A fierce fight between both of your tongues started, every graze of them would make yourself wetter and wetter. He squeezed your waist and tried to keep you closer to him if it was possible, in his drunk mind he was scared you could run away from him.

Nothing about the context was romantic at all. You both physically liked eachother and just wanted to make out. No love at first sight, no kiss with fireworks behind, just pure desire.

Adrenaline rushed your body when his hands cupped your ass, that was only covered by the thin dress you decided to wear. Nobody near you could care less about what you two were doing it, but for you, everyone was looking at the show you and Mark were offering, and that obviously turned you on.

You bit Mark's lower lip, sucked on it, while opening your eyes to look directly at him. Eyes closed, he was enjoying how you toyed his lips. The hard grip on your skin, and a bulge poking your stomach made you feel powerful, you were loving the effect you caused on him.

Suddenly, an arm made you break your kiss with Mark. You lose your balance so you hug the guy that was pulling you backwards. Johnny.

-Hey, pornstars, we have some nice shit here- he pointed his hand with his eyes. You could see a tiny bag with a white dust inside. You come to your senses and look around at the crowd to try find Rosé, but it was obvious she already was under the influence. She was on Jaehyun's shoulders, enjoying the music. You sigh, chuckling at the sight of her losing her mind.

-Its my first time though- you commented while you look at Johnny spreading the dust on top of his phone screen with one hand using a credit card. You could notice he was an expert at it, you peek to see Mark right by your side looking at the manouvers as hypnotized as you. Probably it was his first time too.

You both snorted the little substance, and it sucked at first. It was so uncomfortable, but it took minutes for you to get used to that weird sensation on your nose.

You didnt even noticed when everything started to amplify. You could feel the summer breeze making its way around you, the taste of Mark's saliva still on your tongue was strong, the colorful tins of the sky while it was dusking looked so enhanced.

A hand grabbed yours, taking you out of your trance, and almost felt like an orgasm. So warm and so soft, made you wanna scream. You turned to see a fucked out Mark, studying your face with dilated pupils, he was almost as horny as you by only grabbing hands.

He caressed yours with his thumb, and it felt like he was fucking you, your body shivered at it. Mark was enjoying it too, so he brought your fingers closer to his mouth and inserted the index one inside, and started to suck on it. You moaned and felt how your pussy clenched at nothing, the saliva coating your finger felt like caramel, if you could explain the feeling.

-Mark if you keep doing that i'm gonna cum- you told him with a warning tone, he was so inmersed on sucking your finger that he jumped when you talked. He was aroused by the situation too.

He smiled with your finger still inside of his mouth, took it out, holded you by your wrist and started to run towards...

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-And we ended up here- Mark sumed up the night while you were laying on his chest, caressing it with the tip on your fingers. His, on the other hand, were playing with the locks of your hair.

-Yeah, i remember now, such a night- and then you snapped- Wait... where the fuck is...-

-Yeah, she was having a threesome with the boys. Dont worry, she was having a good time-Mark answered with a playful tone. Of course, that sounds like a very Rosé thing to do. You let out a breathy laugh.

-We could have joined...- you suggested, looking up at him. He took a few seconds to answer, while his eyes moved from one corner to the other of the ceiling, like he was evaluating that scenario.

-Yeah, and sharing? No thanks- he bit his lip and he looked at you with a greedy smile- I felt so lucky to have you screaming my name over and over-

You hit his shoulder with your fist playfully, and he took that as an answer to keep silent and just enjoy the company of the other.

╚���══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

2 days went by, you get used to hang out with the boys. All kinds of crazy stuff you could imagine, you were doing it with them, and it felt like heaven. Mark couldnt keep his hands to himself and everytime he had the opportunity, he would make you cum on his fingers or mouth. And the same goes for you, too. Thanks to him, you noticed how good you are at giving blowjobs inside public restrooms.

But nothing lasts forever, sadly, and the last day of your summer vacation arrived. Rosé and you were ready to go back to Seoul, while they would be staying a little bit longer. It hurted, you got used to Mark's attention, and either him or you wanted to ask for eachothers contact. Not because of lack of interest, but because both of you thought that the other saw it as an adventure. You didn't even knew his last name.

His lips devours yours before you could get in the car that was waiting for you on the street -I wont forget you, thanks for this amazing 3 days- he smiled, a tint of sadness on his eyes. You caressed his cheek, pecking his nose, trying to hurry as much as you coulf so you wouldnt start to feel emotional.

-Y/l/n-

He looked at you clueless -What?-

-My last name is y/l/n- you smiled and without waiting for an answer, you close the door of the car.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

-Hey, hey, it's okay- typical of Rosé being so overdramatic. Sure, your finger almost got cut in half while you were trying to cook some carbonara, but it wasnt a big deal, something a few stitches couldn't fix. The only thing that kept your finger from gushing blood out was a piece of toilet paper.

-Please! My friend needs a doctor!!!!- She screamed at the top of her lungs inside the hospital.

-What happened?- a nurse hurried, worried eyes scanning you both.

-She is losing her finger!!!!- Rosé felt she was going to faint.

-Jesus, Rosé, calm down-

The nurse takes a quick look at your finger- Yeah it doesn't look that good, please follow me. You are lucky we don't have that many patients on New Years Eve-

You are guided to a tiny room full of medical stuff, probably where you are going to get your finger sticked together. It hurted as fuck, but you were trying to keep focused on something other than the pain. You looked at the desk with the computer on, and on a hidden corner you noticed a picture of 3 friends, on a place that seemed too familiar to you. Actually, the friends also seemed like an old ones you had... maybe in university? You can't quite remember.

The door opened up while you were trying to dig into your memories , and you looked at the door startled.

-So, Mrs y/n...- that voice, that motherfucking voice. A year has passed. But how the fuck you were supposed to forget it?. You felt your ears buzzing, face heating and heartbeat racing. You were losing your breath and suddenly the pain of your finger got worst and worst.

He didn't turn to look at you, just got inside by looking at his phone, and once he was sit in front of you, his facial expression dropped.

There were the both of you, looking at eachother like dumb teenagers, like your finger wasnt bleeding out, almost like you were backat that bar in Bora-bora again.

-I... uh... yeah, my finger- you stutter, pointing at it. Mark shakes his head, coming back at his professional senses.

Before the medical procedure he performed, he bandaged your finger, and wrote some medicine you had to take for the pain to go away.

-It should be okay on a few weeks, nothing to worry about- he smiled at you, trying to comfort you. You felt your heart drop when he grabbed the healthy of both of your hands and caressed your palm with his thumb, everything felt like a flashback. You looked at him with clueless eyes.

-I... uh... I should come back in a few weeks then- you stuttered, pressing your lips into a thin line while looking at him directly on his eyes. He nods.

-Lee-

You frowned -Huh?-

-My last name is Lee-

[creativeashproductions]

Suddenly Stuck With You // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Twenty-one years ago Owen Patrick Joyner was born into a life with a bright future and career bringing him two best friends. His best friends Charlie and Jeremy drag the blonde actor to Vegas to celebrate his first legal drink in America. What was supposed to be a weekend for the boys quickly changed all because a certain Canadian met a girl and drank a ton. Now they have to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, allusion to sex, heartbreak, angst and fluff

Words: 7.1k

A/N: Originally this was going to be a mini series but I can’t be bothered to stretch out this idea. I’m sorry, I just feel like this is shit already and I haven’t felt that happy with my writing lately.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Fox and Hound Pub, Las Vegas July 2021

“Happy birthday man!” The voice of his castmate, work roommate and best friend announced.

Owen’s eyes found Charlie’s glittering viridescent eyes meeting Owen’s bright blue.

“Why did we have to celebrate my twenty-first in Las Vegas, Charlie?” Owen questioned with one hand, cupped around his first legal drink in America. 

Owen had had his fair share of beers in his life both in America and his visits in Germany after he turned sixteen. Charlie and Jeremy had been the ones to drag the actor to Vegas to celebrate. Owen didn’t see the significance of celebrating in a different state than Los Angeles.

“C’mon! You’re twenty-one!” Charlie exclaimed pushing a beer across the table in the bar they had found. Relatively lowkey the boys hadn’t been stopped for pictures by JATP fans thankfully.

Owen nabbed the mug from Charlie’s calloused hand to take a swig of the drink to Charlie’s delight with a sigh. The tall actor scanning the moderately filled bar, the world was coming back to terms after the pandemic officially ended.

“There you go!” The Canadian adventurer spoke nodding his head to the live music a local band was playing.

Owen’s eyes found someone he recognized from a show on the History Channel his dad was incredibly into for several years. Two men sat in a booth next to the bar with food in front of them with the dark-haired one wearing a shirt with a logo. It was hard to make out, but he believed it was for a famous pawn shop in Vegas.

“Drink up. I got the tab tonight.” Charlie informed his distracted best friend, “This is gonna be an incredible year. Shooting for season two with the gang back together.”

“Hey, sorry about that. Care and I had a scheduled live on Insta to do. Happy birthday, man.” Jeremy sat in the booth next to Charlie, still living on the high of seeing his wife.

“This is gonna be a trip to remember,” Charlie announced tapping mugs with his two fellow castmates and best friends.

Oh, how right Charlie was.

Your best friend lifted the wineglass to her red lips with a mischievous look in her eye that concerned you as usual. Cherry, nicknamed for her fierce love of cherries, had a wild streak that had mellowed after graduating college last year. Cherry had invited you to stay with her for a month to recover from a devastating loss. The offer hadn’t entirely left her lips before you bought a plane ticket from Heathrow Airport in England to Las Vegas.

You had met Cherry in your teens through an exchange program set up between your schools a few years back. Even since you two met at sixteen, you had been best friends and unable to get rid of the other.

“Why are we here?” You asked, tapping a manicured nail freshly done at a spa courtesy of Cherry. Of course Cherry chose a shade of red as per usual while you had chosen a traditional white tip French Manicure.

“I know the breakup was tough, but you need to let loose.” Cherry’s hand reached over to squeeze yours. The sympathetic smile irritating you for god knows what number of time it was.

Averting your eyes, you found yourself scanning the pub with barely any attention but you wanted to escape the warm amber brown of your friend. You loved Cherry, but you wanted to mourn the loss of your relationship within your own time and way.

“I need another drink!” You called over the loud music before pushing away from the table to head to the bar.

Ordering your favourite drink, you leaned against the dark wood with your arms crossed and a faraway gaze. Unaware of the man waiting next to you for his own drink.

“Hey!” The male spoke, bringing your attention to his soft hazel gaze.

Your e/c eyes finding the man speaking with a kind and absolutely breathtaking smile framed by the scruff his face sported. Facial hair sometimes turned you off if it wasn’t worn styled for the individual. This guy, however, pulled it off with the brunette moustache matching the medium-length head of hair.

“Hi.” You softly replied gracefully grabbing the drink when the barkeep set it down before hustling down the counter to another customer, “Am I in your way?”

“No. I already got my drink. You looked lost, and I saw the bartender coming. I didn’t want anyone slipping you something.”

“Thank you…”

“Charlie.” The man spoke, holding out his hand to you with his smile still on his cheerful expression. Your hand slid into his warm grip.

“Y/N.”

You and Charlie retreated to an empty table deep in conversation with such ease it felt like you had known each other for years. You learnt he was living in LA, but originally from Canada, a province called New Brunswick.

Charlie was enthralled as you told him how you had been born and raised in America for the first ten years of your life. After age ten, you moved to England for your mom’s job offer and settled in your father’s childhood hometown; he was originally from England but met your mother on vacation in California.

While you conversed, Cherry found you entirely focused on the male with an expression she hadn’t seen in ages. Her eyes floated by to you periodically for your safety until you sent her a text.

You: Sorry, I ditched you. I got caught up talking with Charlie.

Cherry sent a response back before paying your tabs and heading to her apartment a few blocks away from Fox and Hound Pub. Her heart was excited for how the night would pan out because the sexual tension could be felt across the duo’s room. She was confident you wouldn’t make any stupid decisions.

Oh, how wrong she was.

A hiss preceded the deep groan as a group of construction workers pounded away in your skull painfully. The back of your eyelids painted red from the sunlight pouring into the room from the open blinds.

Scrubbing one hand over your eyes, you slowly sat up with a satisfying stretch after a well-rested sleep. The cool air from the air conditioner raising goosebumps on your bare skin…wait a minute bare skin? The slightest sound of the sheet rustling together, freezing you in place. Firstly, you glanced down at your bare chest before sliding your eyes over to the left of the bed.

Eyes equally large the man from last night, Charlie, cried out when he sat up too quickly. The sheets pooled around his bare waist.

“Okay. Definitely didn’t wake up in my own bed.” You muttered leaning over to find your abandoned shirt on the floor.

Pulling it on despite the stare from Charlie’s hazel eyes, you scoured the room for the rest of your clothes. The room was silent as Charlie slid on his clothing like you did before you stood covered up in the hotel room.

“So, obviously, we slept together. Do you remember if we used-“Charlie started to ask. Your mouth opening to end his sentence.

“I’m on the pill. We used a condom.” You informed him equally as relieved you hadn’t made a stupid decision, “Thankfully even fully sloshed we used protection. We didn’t make a stupid decision.”

At least you hooked up with a really nice guy instead of a scummy guy only in it for his own pleasure and disregarding yours. Vague memories from the night in the sheets swayed you into believing the charming man was more of a giver than a receiver.

Charlie’s mouth opened he felt a new weight barely discernable, but he felt it, “Uh…guess again.”

Eyes furrowing you found the ring on his finger with shame, “Oh my god, you’re married?!”

Holy shit, you slept with a married man. You’re a homewrecker you thought to yourself getting further worked up. What if this guy had kids. Not noticing your feet had started pacing the room.

“I wasn’t yesterday morning.” Charlie faltered keeping his eyes on the cheap ring he definitely hadn’t been wearing yesterday. His eyes moving to look at the matching wedding band on your left hand, bringing you attention to it as well.

“Well, fuck.” The deep sigh guiding awareness from the male to the weary posture that came with the heartbreak.

When Cherry invited you to visit and take solace in your best friend, you never expected to wake up from a one night stand turned more. Tears built with the embarrassment of crying in front of his stranger that hadn’t asked for a morning with a hangover and a new wife.

“Whoa! Hey, we can get it annulled.” Charlie stuttered rushing over to draw you into his strong arms with such gentle care it melted your heart. The leftovers that hadn’t shattered to your toes from the failed relationship you escaped the UK for.

“This is a mess.” You sighed birthing an unintentional word vomit, “I left the UK to visit my best friend, Cherry. She brought me to the bar to cheer me up and instead of attempting the ‘to get over someone you have to get under someone’ I fuck that up as well. I get married.”

Charlie’s hazel gaze widened at the revelation, “You broke up with someone?”

“More cliché. He’s a rich frat boy in his fifth year of college, he’s brilliant but chose to stay for the frat house. He got a girl pregnant, and now he’s in a forced engagement.” The smile you hoped was strong came out wobbling, “Then he asked me to be his ‘official’ real relationship. An embellished way of being the secret girlfriend/mistress.”

Charlie winced, leaning back to stare down, “How long ago was this?”

“Around seven months? I kept it quiet for a while. No one knew until last month. I’ve gotten a lot of pity even if I’m over him but not the betrayal.” Charlie whistled lowly with a nod and a particular look in his eyes.

“This is gonna come out of the left-field entirely, but what if we check out the laws on Vegas weddings? See if we fit the annulment or if we need a divorce? If we need a divorce, we can play it out to make his regret his decision and get everyone off your back?”

The refusal just about dropped from your tongue before something changed, “Let’s do it.”

As Charlie quickly get ready, he nabbed his phone from the charger by the bed before he slipped his hand in yours. He answered your confusion with the excuse of getting used to each other. Instead of fighting the blatant denial, you followed him to his rented car for the week to give him directions to Cherry’s apartment.

“So, what’s our story?” You asked the man, “We don’t know each other that well.”

“My full name is Charlie Jeffrey Gillespie. I’m Canadian but living in Los Angeles for work, I’m here for my best friend Owen’s twenty-first birthday with our other best friend, Jeremy. I’m twenty-two turning twenty-three in August.” Charlie spitfire navigating the streets of Vegas with practised ease.

“You already know my full name. I’m twenty-three as of a few months prior. You already know I moved from America to England over a decade ago.” The hesitation came from telling Charlie the career you had had since you turned twenty.

The topic of jobs was evaded as you learnt about each other’s likes and dislikes in a crash course to convince Cherry. Just as Charlie started to list his siblings, his phone rang through the car’s Bluetooth.

“I’m guessing that’s the Owen you came to Vegas with?” You questioned flicking your gaze between the Caller ID and your husband. God even thinking of having a husband was incredibly odd.

“Yeah. I have to answer.” Charlie’s exuded nerves with his fingers tapping the steering wheel, “Can you play along?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before clicking the accept.

“Dude, where are you? We were supposed to get food together? I have a wicked hangover.” The voice of this Owen spoke with a tinge of annoyance you only caught with your training.

“I met Y/N.” Charlie infused his voice with the nerves and a slight change to his voice that impressed you as he stepped into a set of shoes in his chest of roles.

“Who? Is that the girl from last night? The one you had that drinking challenge with?” Owen questioned from his side of the phone settled at a table with Jeremy nursing a coffee for his hangover.

“I haven’t told anyone, but after Jeremy’s wedding, it made me feel like I was missing something? I signed up for a dating app, and with filming, I forgot about it. About six months ago, I met someone, and we’ve constantly been talking.”

“That’s why you refused the blind dates from Sav and me? Not that you wanted to focus on work.” Jeremy interjected, “You should have told us, man. We wouldn’t judge you.”

“I know that, but we all blew up after the show. I just wanted to keep this between us until we knew for sure but guys…this girl is the One.” Charlie chuckled, shaking his head at the irony of already being married to you.

“We’re happy. So, did you want to take me to Vegas so you could meet her?” Owen questioned with a pit in his stomach of Charlie’s motives not being only for him.

“I’m in the car with her. She’s sending a few emails for work and blasting music. I can hear it from the driver’s seat.” Charlie joked to the boys with the lie slipping quickly, “Hey! Y/N, sweetheart.”

“Hm?” You interject with such ease, Charlie wondered if you were an actor as well. The practised and on beat performance, “Oh! Hi, sorry. I’m Y/n, you must be Owen and Jeremy? Charlie’s talked about you guys. Congratulations on your wedding Jeremy.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Jeremy lightly laughed, shaking his head at the voice coming from Owen’s phone on speaker.

“Happy birthday Owen. I wish I could have met you in person to wish you a happy birthday, but Charlie and I tend to forget to tell each other where our trips happen! It was such a shock to see him last night.” Just as Charlie had used affected nerves, you played up the loved up role, “My best friend and I almost chose a different pub than Fox and Hound.”

Owen and Jeremy’s grins grew at the genuine care in your voice as you continued speaking before Charlie interrupted you.

“Sweetheart I think they get it!” Charlie laughed with a glittering of stars in his eyes, “It was shocking to see Y/n in Las Vegas��of all the 50 states. This week has been the best. Getting to bring my best friend to Vegas for his big twenty-one and meeting the love of my life in person?”

“Charlie’s dropping me off at my best friends. You’ll have him again in an hour. I hope you have a wonderful weekend Owen.” You finished unknowingly winning them over at the care in your voice and the happiness you brought out in Charlie.

Owen ended the call with a quick goodbye, leaving the rented car quiet between the new husband and wife.

“That went better than I expected.” Charlie admitted with a soft smile on his lips only to drop at your expression, “What?”

“Our next obstacle in convincing my best friend this relationship is real.”

“I’m sure it will go-“

“She’s an extremely successful criminal prosecutor who graduated high school a year early and fast-tracked through college.”

“Well, shit,” Charlie stated, leaning back in his seat as the entire situation hit him that he had married a stranger.

Charlie may be able to fool his friends but his family? His mother to be specific would immediately know what was up. The young Canadian had always been open on one day getting married surrounded by his family and have his parents there. Dropping this bomb on his family could only go one way: terrible.

“I’m a good actor. I’m sure we can convince her. We’ll get together with her tomor-“

“Unfortunately, I’m meeting with her in a few hours.” You revealed with a sheepish smile on your pretty features. Charlie could feel his heart drop in dread and fear at how the hand given wasn’t in his favour.

The drive was quiet as dread filled the two individuals as the distance was eaten up between the car and the apartment that housed an intelligent woman. Cherry Parker had only been working at the firm for a year with a clear future as a partner within ten years. Cherry with perfect grades in high school and high percentages in college and a perfect smile. A natural at finding people’s ticks she would be near impossible to deceive.

“We could turn around. Make an excuse to be introduced through the phone.” Charlie supplied, biting his lip, “Oh my god. She’s not gonna kill me, is she?”

“No.” You swiftly told the spiralling man, “She’d kill me and frame you.”

Maybe that wasn’t the best to calm the man down as he freaked out more, “Oh my god. What are we gonna do!?”

The apartment loomed as the car came to a stop outside just as the individual wearing seafoam green peacoat stepped to the entrance. Her blunt bob of caramel brown hair and unique earrings screaming that it was Cherry.

“That’s her.” You breathed as Charlie parallel parked in between a compact car and an SUV in front. Jerry, the doorman, waved with his beaming smile that reminded you of a jolly man just as he had since you had first visited Cherry in her apartment.

Jerry mumbled towards Cherry before she turned swiftly on her black pumps notorious to her work attire. Since her first year of law school, she had gone through two pairs and adored them with her new income.

The woman rushed over as your door opened with the help of Charlie, how you didn’t notice he had turned the car off and walked to your side, appalled you. The 5’8 male was shoved to the side as Cherry tugged you into her arms with a scathing glare at Charlie.

 “I don’t know who you are or how much you rocked her world, but it’s been hours. I thought you kidnapped her.” Cherry hissed at the male with her brown eyes flaring with anger that made both you and Charlie flinch.

“Whoa! We got stuck in traffic, and Charlie’s friend called.” Your hands raised in defence at the pointed glare now directed at you. The amber-brown eyes scanned your form and other than the apparent walk of shame appearance, you looked fine.

Cherry’s red lips parted for the usual questions she gave to all her friends after one-night stands. With a subtle shake of your head, Cherry tabled the questions for later before locking her eyes on the newcomer.

“Cherry Parker. And what’s the name of the guy that plastered a smile on her face?” Cherry questioned, holding out her hand to him.

“Charlie Gillespie. It’s nice to meet you.” Charlie replied with that charming smile that melted your heart. It didn’t appear to melt Cherry with the thick skin she developed first in her family and then as a lawyer.

“Likewise. Well, thank you for delivering her safe.” Cherry spoke hand, reaching for your own impatient for all the details she would demand. Her words failed when her amber gaze peered at the near-identical faces, “What did you do?”

The demand startled the two individuals before the attorney began ushering the duo in the building you had been staying at. Her red nail stabbing the golden-hued elevator surrounded by emerald green displaying a vintage colour scheme.

“Please tell me it’s not as bad as senior year?” Cherry pleaded massaging the bridge of her nose with her free hand. The other clenching her briefcase so tight the knuckles had turned bleach bone white.

“What happened senior year?” Charlie asked following the two best friends into a spacious apartment that could fit two of his in it. His hazel eyes catching the unspoken conversation between the two best friends.

“Not important.” Cherry sighed eyes, lowering to your fingers, “Of course. Vegas. You eloped. Jesus Y/N, you know how your family is.”

Catching the confusion from Charlie, you elaborated for Cherry, “My family is incredibly strict and old fashioned. Divorce isn’t accepted in my family for anything less than the most serious scenarios.”

“Drunk eloping in Vegas? Practically get prepared for silent judgemental stares from Nana and drowning disappointment.” Cherry sighed, pushing a strand of her caramel brown locks behind her ear.

“I have a plan for that. We can pretend to be married before amicably divorcing later. We can figure out the details for a reason later in future. We already started the ruse.” Charlie admitted seating himself at the island in the spacious kitchen his mother would dream of cooking in.

Charlie could already tell just how successful Cherry was with her apartment and her outfit that dripped money. Her kindness, however, set her on a different level to the people Charlie had encountered with the same dollar signs.

“Of course,” Cherry grumbled digging around for drinks. Charlie fully anticipated it to be some kind of fancy wine, but he was proven wrong.

Cherry had taken out two different kinds of beer from the fridge, along with cold mugs straight from the freezer.

“What just because I’m dolled up you think I drink strictly wine? I have that for my mother and sister when they visit.” Charlie barely caught the eyeroll at Cherry’s mention of her family as she turned to you.

“Besides, I’m my father’s daughter.” You cheered cracking open your choice into the mug with skilled ease. The foam perfectly dealt with it brought a smile to Charlie’s face.

“Okay, so this ruse. What did you do so far?”

“My friends think she and I met on a dating app seven months ago and coincidently ran into each other last night at the bar. We’ve kept it private because of my job-“

“-along with Y/N’s job.” Cherry simply spoke raising the rim of her mug to her lips, “Okay, there’s no way you’d sign up on an app after Harvey. So, I went behind your back and made one for you.”

“Then Charlie messaged me after I found out. It started off as apologizing that he chose my profile. It started a friendship that turned into a relationship.”

“We did Facetime dates before becoming exclusive, and you wanted to ensure it was something that would last longer than a fling.” Charlie inserted with a beaming grin as he felt into ease with the two girls before him.

“I think we got a story for you two. Just two rules: One, don’t go falling in love with each other and two, don’t get pregnant.” Cherry joked sitting in the barstool across from you and Charlie. Her red lips revealing white teeth, one tooth with a tiny chip out of it from high school.

The rest of the days’ Charlie was in Las Vegas he alternated between his friends and you with the odd time he invited you to dinner with them. There was such ease between Charlie and you that hadn’t be there even with your ex Harvey. Unfortunately, the time in Las Vegas dwindled down until you were dropping the boys off at the airport.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” Charlie mumbled in the earshot of his friends, “Whirlwind wedding-“

“Married.” Owen scoffed in disbelief once more having found out at dinner last night that included colourful words. Jeremy had been placed in silent shock seeing the real matching wedding bands.

“In a month, you’ll fly out to England to help me pack up the flat and then we’ll fly to see your family for your cousin’s wedding.” You finished for the man with a beaming grin that had steadily lost its fake appeal. It quite literally felt like you had known Charlie for longer than a few days.

“It was really nice meeting you. I hope Charlie can convince you to come visit my wife and me. You and Carolynn would hit it off.”

“Could I bring Bindi?” Owen joked as he tugged you into a hug as soon as Jeremy had released you. Charlie was quick to drag you back into his embrace, even adding a kiss to your forehead.

The airport speakers announced the second warning of their flight number boarding rather suddenly in which the trio frantically rushed. The feeling of your stomach dropped took you by surprise just as much as the manicured hand of Cherry.

 “You okay?” Cherry asked softly sliding her hand down your arm to clutch yours in hers. It was an act of comfort you both had done throughout your friendship, whether it be uncomfortable situations or heartbreak.

“I feel like I’ve known him years instead of days. Cherry, I think I’m in danger of falling for him.” You fully admitted turning your head to meet her concerned brown orbs.

“Sweetheart, you’ve never been good at doing no feelings.” Cherry replied with a squeeze of your hand, “He feels the same. Now we need you to get to your gate since you’re ditching me.”

“As much as I would adore staying here. I need to get back to England to finish packing my flat.” You informed Cherry with a small grin as her red lips parted in a gasp at your announcement.

You had temporarily relocated back to the US at eighteen when you were recruited into the CIA, and then you were sent to England for work. It was very under the cover, and Cherry knew the basics but not the entirety of your career.

“You’re coming back!” Cherry cheered grinning at what could be the best news of the week for the lawyer. No more fumbling of time zones and long distances between phone calls leading to relying on messaging.

“I am!” You beamed right back, “I’ll move to Washington for a year and then hopefully I can be transferred to Los Angeles. As much as I love Las Vegas, it isn’t the place I want to live.”

“It would make sense to move to LA since Charlie is there. You could even use the marriage being the reason you’re moving instead.” Cherry offered with her lips turned up, yet her brown eyes didn’t glitter.

Cherry missed having you around like back in high school. Living apart sucked for the two best friends but at least you would be in the same country. 

“This is insane. I still can’t believe I’m married.” You whispered, staring up at the high ceiling of the airport. You relied on your instincts to walk in the busy airport to your gate.

“I wasn’t even there.” Cherry snorted walking in complete sync until you both came to a stop at your gate. Her eyes saddened further after so many days spent together when she wasn’t working, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Knowing my mother. She’ll be planning, and as she’ll say it, a real wedding for Charlie and I.”

Another lingering hug with the caramel brunette was the last for a while as more and more distance came between you. Metres changed to different continents within hours, and suddenly you felt more alone than ever.

The rain was drizzling in London, a welcome change to the blistering heat Vegas had given you in the days you had been there. However, the most welcome sight was the six-foot-one lean frame of your father leaning against his pride and joy. The bright metallic blue with two very wide vertical stripes up the hood of it had been a staple in your family since you were twenty.

The blue Shelby Cobra had been challenging to find, but it was worth the massive grin on Theodore Y/L/N’s face. You and your mother had joined forces with your uncles to get it for your Dad, and one of them was a mechanic that did most of the work.

“Dad!” You yelled, jumping into his arms. Dad’s grip tightened around your shoulders with his face smushed into your neck.

“Darling!” He exclaimed just as he did no matter how long it had been since you saw each other. You were closest with him from father-daughter days watching football (the European version of soccer).

“Mum at home?” You questioned as he placed the small amount of luggage in the tiny boot of the car. His e/c eyes, the ones you inherited from him, twinkled with mischief and a wink.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but there’s a surprise.” He spoke ushering you into the passenger seat on the left side of the car. It was still jarring driving on the opposite side of the road in America.

“Another one to sway me from moving to Washington?” You retorted to the tall male in the driver’s seat. At the mention of moving his smile dimmed like it did when you flew to see Cherry for a while.

As he drove down the streets, your eyes scoured his features as if it had been years instead of mere weeks. He had been in Germany for business for a week when you flew out to Las Vegas. His hair still had the dark locks with grey mixed throughout as if had been since he was in his late twenties. The laugh lines still the same as they had been previously, but the most important thing was that he was still healthy.

Ted Y/L/N had beaten a severe bout of sickness a few years ago that had taken months of recovery. It was just second nature to check him before anything else.

“How’s Cherry.”

“Living happily with her success story.” You piped up, finding it would be the perfect place to start planting Charlie’s existence. Your father glanced over slightly confused as you continued, “After Harvey, Cherry signed me up for a dating app. I hit it off with someone, and I’ve been dating them ever since.”

“A dating app.” He questioned glancing over, “Aren’t those what people use to sleep around? Nothing wrong with having sex but isn’t that what the apps are predominantly used for?”

Your lip was taken between your teeth, “Some of them are. The one that Cherry did was surprisingly more about human connection. He’s originally from Canada but moved to Los Angeles for work.”

“Hm.” Ted hummed keeping his entire focus on the road, “And are you okay with this so soon after-“

“I never acknowledged this, but I waited a few months before I told you that Harvey and I broke up. I hit it off with Charlie, and well I’ve never been so in love before.”

“I sense there’s a chapter in this new love that I’m not going to be thrilled about. Out with it.” He ordered momentarily glancing over to see you sheepishly grinning, “Are you preg-“

“I married Charlie-“

To both your father’s and your horror the sound of the Shelby’s tires screeching reached your ears. The car skidded to a stop in the middle of the street with yelps coming straight from your surprised mouth. Dad’s eyes blinking owlishly at the road.

“You’re married? To someone, I’ve never even met?” The question was croaked from the middle-aged man staring straight ahead. The car slowly moved down the road as Dad applied less pressure to the pedal.

“It was so fast, but I swear you’ll meet him. He’s flying out to help me pack, and we’ll fly out to Washington. You’ll love him.” You gushed ignoring the smart of guilt at lying to the first man that had ever truly loved you.

The father that had learnt how to do your hair and supported you in everything you did; for the first few years, he had been a stay at home dad. Your mother was the one that worked and then when you got to the right age, your father returned to work. He had taught you how to ride a bike and drive, the police didn’t need to know you were driving years before you legally could.

“Your Nan is going to be pissed.” He snorted, shaking his head, “You’ll be throwing him to the wolves at the reunion.”

The reunion you had completely forgotten about. Shit.

A month later brought Charlie to your small half-packed flat in London and then straight to your parents’ house in the country. The country home had been in your family for years before your parents moved out of the city full time.

“Okay. So, your five-year-old cousin is adamant he be called Agent Jack because he works for James Bond. Don’t mention football, which is soccer in the US, or else World War III between your Nan and great-aunt Dottie will happen.”

“Oh! My mom loves ice hockey! She grew up playing until she was in high school!” You gasped glancing over at Charlie in the passenger seat of the car. He’d arrived two days ago ahead of schedule to get rested for the reunion.

This morning he had spent longer getting ready with his hair meticulously styled and his clothes chosen to fit the weather and the event. No matter how much you had soothed him, the nerves still flared. This wasn’t meeting your SO’s parents, this meeting his wife’s family who had no clue about him.

“Do I call your Dad, Mr. Y/L/N or Sir?” Charlie questioned as the country zipped by in the clear window of the car. His fingers tapped the beat to the JATP song ‘Now or Never’ on the black denim of his jeans.

“Go with Sir.” You replied, reaching one hand over to grasp his in your hand, “My Nan will interrogate you about where we would have kids. Aunt Dottie will ask if you got me pregnant and that’s I’ve never said anything about us.”

“I…really? They’ll ask that?” Charlie choked turning to face you entirely with a face pale as bleached bone. The wince you offered was enough for him to relax into the leather of the car.

“Their old ladies that live on gossip and personal questions. But don’t underestimate Nan if she gets plastered and demands an arm wrestle. You won’t win.”

The car rolled to a stop on the rocky drive filled with other vehicles of all colours and types. The house was the background feature of the menagerie of cars. It was a gorgeous colour your mom had spent weeks trying to find in countless shops before she saw it three hours away. Flowers were strategically placed for viewing pleasure.

“Your house is beautiful.” Charlie breathed circling the car to open your door without prompt just it had become second nature to him. His hazel eyes moved across the parcel of land your parents owned.

Before your lips could even part to respond, you were attacked in a hug by two little pairs of arms. The sandy coloured hair, one set of curls hitting past their shoulders and the other a mop on his head. You knew immediately it was your little cousin Jack and his twin JJ from the strength of the hug.

“Y/N!” The twins squealed jumping in their spots as their father, your uncle Seth, corralled them. His eyes crinkled with the grin that matched your father and other uncles. It was the signature L/N smile your family carried.

“Hey! It’s Agent Jack and-“

“Doctor JJ! I’m Jack’s doctor!” JJ clapped her small hands together, displaying her cute little dimples. Charlie’s quiet awe melted your traitor heart entirely, “Is he your boyfriend?” 

The three adults’ all had a deep chuckle at her cute little scrunched nose as she saw Charlie’s hand grasp yours.

“Not exactly. You know how Dad and I are married?” Seth asked, crouching in front of his little girl. Her eyes blinked in confusion, “Y/N and Charlie are married. Y/N is his wife, and he’s Y/N’s husband.”

In his usual tornado-esque style, Jack had already taken off around the side of the house to the family gathered. JJ’s hand had slid into her father’s familiar grip.

“But Daddy you and Dad are husbands? How can they be married if she’s a girl?” JJ pouted with her green eyes twinkling in suspicion.

“Well, JJ. When two boys get married, they are husbands, if two girls get married, they are wives, but if a boy and girl get married, they become husband and wife. Or maybe depending on the genders they prefer to be called partners.” Seth told his little girl as his husband Fred rested his hand on his shoulder. While Seth was fair-haired and blue eyes, his husband Fred was the example of tall, dark and handsome with green eyes.

“Okay.” JJ simply spoke, skipping over to grab Charlie’s hand in her left and yours in her right. The little girl dragging you two in the direction her brother had disappeared around where the noise grew louder.

“Relax.” You whispered to the wide-eyed Canadian steadily becoming quieter and more nervous. As soon as you rounded the corner of the house, JJ released your hands to chase after Jack and your other cousins.

“You have a big family,” Charlie mumbled, looking over the adults and the young children set away. His eyes found your parents wrapped in each other’s arms talking with a woman confidently wearing the marks of time and wisdom, “You have your father’s smile.”

“I know.” You spoke tugging him to your parents, “Dad! Mum!”

The couple glanced over to see the man that had snuck into their family without a hint. Your father was quick to tug you in a bear hug with a resounding kiss on your forehead. Mum had yanked Charlie into a hug as well that relaxed him with the words she whispered in his ear.

“This is Charlie Gillespie. Charlie this is my mum and dad Theodore and Amelia.” You swiftly introduced the three people in your life.

It was tense for a moment before it melted away, “He’s a lot better than Harvey.”

“Ted!” Mum spoke slapping his arm, “It’s not his fault he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth-“

“-and a boob in his hand.” Dad chortled, dodging the slap from your mortified Mum. Her dark eyes wide open in shock, she really shouldn’t be surprised with your father, at how he had spoken.

Charlie’s lips parted in a strong of impish laughter bringing a grin to your little party’s faces. All the nerves from before melted from the Canadian as he found he fit in perfectly with your parents. His hand never felt yours the rest of the night, and with it, you wished you didn’t have to live with the ruse. You had fallen swiftly for the Canadian and wished this was marriage was real.

It wouldn’t be until Charlie, and you had devoured the food and two mugs of beer that the truth comes out in the upstairs bathroom. You couldn’t be sure who made the first move, but two hours upon arriving at the reunion Charlie had you pinned against the bathroom door. Lips moving against each other like you’d been made for each other.

“Mhm.” Charlie moaned, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. The vision of seeing your bruises hips had a flutter in your stomach.

Heat rose from your stomach to your chest as your fingers slid into his once perfectly groomed hair. His lips parting yours with a warmth that washed over your entire body like the sun brushing skin after peeking behind a fluffy cloud. If Heaven was a feeling, this would be it.

Charlie’s hands slid under your shirt to rest on the warmth of your hips, a fire flared at his mere touch. He only parted from your lips at the sound of the floorboards outside the bathroom.

“Call me crazy, or the beer is making me say this. I’ve never felt this way for someone like I do for you,” Charlie whispered brushing your temple with his lips. The words created a shiver down your spine, “We have this connection and ease between us. I see you in the sunlight when I first wake up, and all I ever want to do is cuddle you close.”

“Char-“

“I know we’ve gone about this out of order, but I’d really like to be more than what we are. I want to be more than a guy making your ex regret hurting you. I want to be more than just your accidental husband. I want to do this the right way.”

“Me too.” You fully admitted, “Watching you geek out over my dad’s car with me. I want to keep seeing that. There’s something I’ve been keeping from you that I need to say before this goes further.”

“What’s wrong?” Charlie murmured cupping your cheeks in his warm hands. His hazel eyes lingered on your swollen lips that no doubt matched his own.

Your bright e/c eyes flickered between his hazel orbs with something he couldn’t quite decipher.

“If we do this, there are things I won’t be able to talk to you about when it comes to my job. It’s sensitive information, and no matter how much I trust you, I won’t be able to say anything. Charlie, the reason I’m moving to Washington is because I finished my tasks.”

Your hands moved around as you spoke to the silent Canadian just staring at you, “So what kept you in England for so long?”

“I work for the CIA. I have since I was recruited on a college campus a few years ago.” You revealed to the flabbergasted actor blinking rapidly. His mouth hung open, and his eyes widened more than you thought possible.

“So, we’re both in the business of deceit and pretending.” He grumbled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “I’m an actor by the way. It doesn’t matter what your job is, all I care about is trying to make this work.”

That was the moment that turned your relationship around, a year later, you had traditionally renewed your vows. Your wedding in the backyard of your parents’ house with friends and family watching as you walked down the aisle in your white wedding dress. Charlie waiting with the officiant unaware of the tiny gift of a little bean inside your belly growing.

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[thesmokingguns]

24 Hours

Word Count:3454

Request/ Summary: “Can i request one where nicki gets turned down by their makeup artist or like stand in manager and hes upset and he finds out the the manager just doesnt sleep with people she just met”

I tried to write this where she breaks rules for him and turns him down. He understands what her restrictions are but he can see that living by her strict rules she created for herself she is making herself unhappy.

I hope I hit the prompt you wanted!

A/N: This turned out longer than I expected it to be so sorry about that one. I do have three requests I’m writing right now on top of some of the stuff I am writing so you can all still make requests but I'm going to be saying it’s a two week wait for a new request right now. I also want to say I am going to write a third and fourth part to the 3am Duff series because I have no self control. Thank you for everyone being patient with me and all your kind words! If you want to be added to my tallest please message me or go HERE

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc​ , @littlemisscare-all​ , @agroupiewhore , @ayablackwood​

You were having a bad day. Not just a bad day but one of those days where everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. From morning to night it was the literal day from hell for you.

8:12am You woke up, an hour after you had hit snooze on your alarm, twelve minutes after you were supposed to leave your house to get to work.

8:34am After throwing yourself together and rushing out the door, you were running out of the apartment with the cup of coffee you had economically and time consciously thought to make. On the last step before you had escaped into the day you slipped, the hot coffee spilled all down the front of your red dress, because of course it was the one day you weren’t wearing black. Rushing back up the stairs you realized that the keys to get into your apartment were in your apartment, hanging on the hook just out of reach behind the door. So you would be going to work in your coffee dress.

9:01AM You made it to work, only thirty-one minutes late. Your boss wasn’t happy that you were late on a Friday, thinking you had done this on purpose as some slight to them. Which meant they had pulled you in the office and chewed you a new asshole.

They also told you about coming to work in a clean, tidy appearance as if you had wanted to be wearing your coffee.

As you were being yelled at you watched the line back up and couldn’t help but think about how yelling at you was just making the situation worse. You also were also thinking about how next time you’d just call in sick instead of being late.

11:59AM One minute before you were scheduled to take a break, one fucking minute, and the crazy man came in. Throwing his shit smelling money at you and proceeding to vomit all over your window.

Your window, your mess. So instead of having a much needed timeout from the day from hell you were trying to scrub the smell of puke off a counter.

1:47 PM You finally stepped out for lunch. Moving to the payphone to call your roommate. She thankfully answered on the second ring of the apartment phone. At least the door would be unlocked after work, which was one thing you had been worried about.

She was quick to tell you about how she had gotten you a gig for the night. Knowing how you wanted to travel, you two had come up with a plan a few months ago to find work in Hollywood for bands or on film sets. She had been pretty popular making costumes and helping to come up with whole concepts for the upcoming Glam Rock scene. One of her usual bands needed help because their makeup artist had been sick, so you were going to work for her tonight.

This would be considered a good thing but since it was a trial run you were not going to be getting paid for this gig. So your time would be free. The makeup you used on them you needed to provide. And you have to be there at 5PM to set up, which is the exact time that you need to get out of work. Your roommate agreed to help set you up and she was going to bring you a change of clothes to the gig. It would be fine because the band wouldn’t need to be made up until 6 or 7 but it was just another thing on your plate.

So you would be losing money that you needed to pay rent on a bunch of entitled rock stars who would probably not hire you and this whole night would just leave you feeling exhausted and annoyed. Really looking forward to it.

3:49PM Your coworker went home sick with a headache so now you had to do twice the amount of work and there was no hope in hell that you would be making it to the gig in time tonight. That great first impression that you would need to get an actual long job was gone. And you were stuck with a line out the door of people trying to cash their checks all seeming to want to kill you. Happy Friday.

5:02PM You were running down the street, thankful you worked around the corner from the venue. A sigh of relief left your lips seeing your roommate waiting for you. She dragged you inside pushing you towards a bathroom and giving you a bag of clothes to change into. You lined your brown eyes with the kohl liner, winging your eyeliner and adding a deep burgundy lip shade that complimented your darker skin.

“Y/N, hurry up.” you rolled your eyes, repacking the bag and heading out where your friend was waiting for you. “I put your makeup in the dressing room already. It’s not set up yet.” she pulled you down a few hallways. Equipment for the band was more around as they started getting ready to set up everything for the show.

You entered the dressing room, seeing there was a table for food and drinks set up,  a rack of costumes for the band to wear, and finally a vanity where your makeup bag was sitting ready to be unpacked. Your friend handed you a cup, pouring a few fingers worth of vodka into it before splashing in some juice to help the taste.

“Cheers,” you tapped red solo cups drinking heavily. If you weren’t going to get paid for the gig you might as well take advantage of whatever free perks came with it.

6:23PM Sitting on the couch, legs crossed, you were chatting aimlessly with your friend when the door opened and a man walked in looking at you confused.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. I’m the makeup artist for the night.” you were quick to introduce yourself not wanting him to think you were another girl who was just trying to sleep with the band.

“Mick.” he moved to pour himself a full cup of straight vodka, “Can you do my makeup now? The three pretty boys take too much time.” Ushering him into the seat you started out on him, wondering what the hell he meant about the other guys being divas.

7:45PM A blonde burst into the room, seeming surprised that you were standing there. The girl on his arm laughed too loudly and you looked over to your roommate who was handing Mick a belt to wear. She just shrugged, this was normal for her.

“Vince, new makeup artist. You should sit now before the Terror Twins stumble in.” Mick warned him. He pulled away from the girl on his arm headed over to your chair with an easy smile.

“You're going to make me prettier, doll?”

“I’m thinking that you would look with some blue eyeshadow. It would really complete your Malibu Barbie look.” You retorted, watching amused as his mouth dropped open, not used to having someone give it back to him.

You hated cocky assholes who thought that they were God’s gift. There was nothing wrong with a  man who was confident but the way that he was looking at himself in the mirror as you did his makeup you knew he was the type that thought he was above everyone else.

8:21PM  Two men burst into the room as you finished up Vince. Looking at the two taller men you let your eyes wander over them. Vince was a diva but there two were going to be where you had the most trouble. They must be tber terror twins Mick had mentioned.

One of the guys fell into the chair, laughing about something as he sipped the beer he was drinking, rubbing his nose. He lit up a cigarette as he sat back in the chair not seeming to care if it was annoying that he was blowing smoke in your face as you tried to work.

You bit your tongue, annoyed as you tried to work around his cigarette, that he almost burnt you with seven different times. As you worked you could feel a set of eyes on you. Looking up you saw the man he had walked in with, staring at you with these intense olive eyes.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be interested in any of these loudmouth guys, who all seemed to be drunk and hyperactive. It was kind of like you were doing makeup for a bunch of chimps instead of men.

8:55PM Finally the last man was sitting in your chair. His eyes gazing up at you with such intensity you stopped moving around to just look at him.

“Have we met before?” there was something familiar about him and you wondered if you had met him at a bar or at a show before.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m Nikki.” Usually when a guy used a nickname instead of your given name you chalked it up to them being a douchebag but with him it seemed natural and not derogatory, “Thank you for coming out to do our makeup today. I heard the other artist got sick at the last minute. We appreciate you taking your time to help us out…” he left it blank waiting for you to give him your name.

“Y/N.” You were surprised by how talkative he was. The kindness in his tone is different from the way the other guys have been. Just when you thought he was different you felt a hand on the back of your thigh, “If you don’t get your hand off me I’ll break your fingers so you can’t play tonight.” you warned him, looking into the olive eyes gazing up at you.

He was too good looking. The type of guy you could get into trouble with if you allowed yourself but you wouldn’t be taking home a stranger tonight.

“Do you always talk to your clients like that?” he asked with a coy smile on his face. This was the type of smug you liked. The funny easy going type who could make you laugh if you had not been on your feet for twelve hours.

“Only the ones that don’t pay me.” you replied, swiping his eyeshadow on. You wanted this to be over so you could go home and sleep.

The drummer came over, bumping into the vanity and knocking the eyeshadow off and not seeming to notice as the makeup smashed into a thousand pieces on the ground. You were officially losing a lot of money on this job and didn’t have the funds to replace it.

“Jesus, T-Bone, watch where you’re going.” Nikki commented, watching you start to pack everything up, “Aren’t you sticking around to watch the show?”  You shook your head. “Why don’t you stick around and I’ll take you out after for a late dinner. As an apology for this being a bust for you.” You were sure that the way he smiled and how his eyes were so clear made it easy for him to pick up chicks but you weren’t going to be one of them.

“I had a long day. I’m not going out with you.” You zipped up your bag ready to leave

“Listen, Y/N, just stay until we go on. Maybe I can talk to someone and you can get paid for coming out.” You did need the money. So reluctantly you stayed.

9:57PM You shouldn’t have stayed. Nikki had seemed to think you telling him you were not going out with him was a maybe you’d go out with him.

It had been an hour of him sitting on the couch getting to know you, asking questions and being nice to you. Men weren’t nice to you just for the sake of being nice, they were born without the concept of human decency.

But he had also talked to their manager, pointing at you and saying stuff you didn’t get to hear. Now you were stuck in a weird limbo wondering if you were going to get paid.

11:15pm The band rushed on stage and you were pulled aside by the manager. He handed you and envelope that you knew contained cash.

“The boys are going to have a few California gigs. If you can stick it out for a couple weeks I’ll consider hiring you for the tour. I’ll pay you $100 bucks a gig and you need to bring your own supplies to start but if you go on tour you’ll get a contract.” He said. You agreed and he handed you a piece of paper with four dates, the upcoming week, times, and his phone number to call if you couldn’t make it. There was also a chicken scratch handwriting with the name Nikki and a phone number

You were stunned when he walked away. You not only got paid but you have jobs lined up to make even more. It was a dream.

Looking up, you moved towards the stage watching the bassist move around the stage. He was high energy, loving what he was doing. There was this presence about him that drew you in. If you did get the tour position that would be trouble.

11:59PM You had finished packing up and we’re heading out of the venue to head home. You were ready for your bed and a few hours of sleep. The guys were playing tomorrow and you wanted to not be having a bad day.

Trying to sneak out, you almost jumped back when four sweaty men came barreling into the room. Your heart instantly went to your throat seeing Nikki. His smile dancing across his lips, hey black hair stuck to his forehead just oozing self confidence and sex appeal.

“You’re leaving so soon?” You just nodded at his question, wondering if it would be considered rude to tuck his hair out of his face. “Did you call a taxi or need a ride? There’s a lot of unsafe riff raff out this late.” He warned and you almost thought he sounded concerned.

“I’m a grown woman. I can walk myself home. It’s only like 15 minutes from here.” His eyebrow raised as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you won’t.” You shoe back, “I don’t know you and I don’t leave with strangers I’ve only known for one day.” You responded. It was practical to have rules to keep you from getting hurt.

“Well, Y/N, we’ve known each other for two days now since it’s past midnight.” He was so calm saying this to you, “And I’m trying to cut back on drinking so if they see me leave with you I won’t be harassed so you’ll really be doing me the favor.” Thinking about what he said, your tongue licked your top lip nervously. The way his eyes followed this motion gave you your answer.

“Thank you for the offer. I’m going to say goodbye to my roommate. I’ll see you in 20 minutes outside?” You gave him a smile and  saw the way he was melting under your touch as you moved away from him.

You moved over to your friend letting her know you were leaving and you’d see her at home.

12:22 AM Adjusting the bag over your shoulder you weaved through the crowds pouring in and out of all the clubs. No one ever really bothered you walking home. It was just the cat calling and guys thinking that they had a right to run their mouths

“Y/N.” You frowned hearing your name. The roar of a motorcycle speeding up had your eyes looking out on the street.

Oh Shit. There was Nikki, looking at you with a line where his smile had been, his kind eyes looking annoyed at you. You had left him after saying you’d let him take you home but he was too pushy.

“Get on.” the steely tone of his voice made you stop what you were doing, thinking of what to do next. People were looking at the pair of you, some probably recognizing Nikki from his band. You rolled your eyes, stepping forward.

“Listen to me, I’m not getting on. I don’t know you.” His look softened and it was like for the first time he understood what the issue was.

“I just want to make sure that you make it home safe. I know you don’t want anything happening to you. It would feel like my responsibility if you went missing after doing the band's makeup.” you rolled your eyes. Eyeing him and the bike. It had been a long day and it was onlya  five minute drive. What was the worst that could happen?

1:02AM The worst thing that could happen was happening.

When you got on the back of Nikki’s Harley he had asked where you lived. As he drove, you wrapped around his back you realized for the first time of the night you were smiling a genuine wife smile.

Watching the lights of the Strip and the hustle and bustle fly by when wrapped around his warm body, the noie drowned out by the roar of the bike was nice. It felt good. So when you pulled up on your street and he asked if you wanted to drive around more you didn't say no like you should have.

Weaving around the empty highways with just the pair of you was nice. There was no conversations but it felt like you two were getting to know each other on another level.

3:55AM Nikki pulled the bike into a donut shop on the side of the highway. The smell of fresh baked pastries and coffee brewing awakening you much like the wind whipping your face had been keeping you awake but it had been almost twenty four hours awake.

The pair of your ordered black coffee and a donut, sitting on stools at the counter and eating in a comfortable silence.

“Are you mad at me?” He didn’t have a cheeky grin on his face like you had expected but he was serious. “I know you said you wouldn’t go out with me but it just seemed like you were having a bad day and I have a hero complex.” you snorted when he said this. Surprised he admitted that he had a heroes complex.

“I’m not mad. I got on the back of your bike and stayed out.” you thought for a second, “I think I needed it. I always follow my rules and never break them. I think sometimes I need a break from the rules I create.” you said all this with your heart beating wondering what the hell you were doing with this guy in the middle of nowhere.

5:41AM Nikki had wrapped his leather jacket around you, both your boots abandoned by the motorcycle as you sat with toes in the sand watching the sun rise over the Pacific. You hadn't even seen the sun rising over the ocean before so you were wrapped up in the orange and golds of the sky, how the inky black of the water came alive into blue and purple hues with the light.

It was beautiful.

It felt like something was washing over you as you watchined it. Something was changing as you watched the sun start a new day. A new day that you had this feeling in your bones was going to be a good day.

Wiping a tear away, you took a deep breath remembering that you had moved here to make your dreams come true and for the first time it felt like it was going to happen.

A hand on your back reminded you that you weren’t alone. His olive eyes looking at you, concerned. You wiped a tear away trying to laugh it off.

“I never saw the sunrise over the ocean. It’s beautiful,” It was at that moment, wrapped up in the beauty of everything that you realized that he was going to kiss you. The way his hand was against your check, wiping the tears away.

But you surprised both of you leaning forward to push your lips against his. Making the first move. You were breaking all of your rules for him but it felt good and you could tell you would be breaking more rules with him

6:00AM It was going to be a good day.

[yourlocallovesickie]

dk if you still take requests for the beatles so apologies in advance but could you write something about maybe george coming down with a bug or something and being all bloated and achy and the others are trying to take care of him (could be poly or platonic, don't really mind)? if you want to of course 👉👈

Sorry this took a while, I went a bit overboard haha. Love me some sick George. Anyways, enjoy!

George had always tried not to be the weakest link in the group, especially because he was already younger than the others. But occasionally he would push off his own well-being to not be seen as the baby, especially on tour. The low hours of sleep followed by exhausting concert to exhausting concert and the tedious travel between them, afterparties, normal parties, interview, etc, etc . .

Needless to say they were all drained, so of course George paid no mind when he woke up from his 3 hours of sleep feeling tired and achy, his mind clouded and pounding, and stomach swirling. He'd often get stomach aches from stress and anxiety, so he popped a tylenol of five and headed to breakfast.

The others were all gathered around the small hotel table sluggishly eating their breakfast and sipping their coffee. Even Paul looked tired, and that man could wake up every morning at 5 am sharp with a smile on his face. Ringo and the aformentioned morningbird waved at George when he entered, John face down next to a half-empty box of cornflakes, which Ringo passed over to him as he sat down. The idea of eating food made his stomach gurgle angrily, and a sense of nausea began creeping up on him. He must just be hungry. He forced down a few bites of cereal before pushing it away, the others too occupied with keeping their eyes open to notice his lack of appetite, or how he lagged even farther behind the others as they prepared for the day's events.It wasn’t until they were in the car on the way to their first soundcheck/rehearsal, the other three keeping up a quiet conversation as George leaned against the cool window, arms crossed over his stomach and eyes closed, willing the nausea away that they noticed anything. 

“‘Ey George, I know you’re the quiet Beatle but you’re allowed to talk y’know,” John quipped. Responding seemed like too much work, so George sat still.

“Is he asleep?” Paul muttered, tapping the younger man lightly. With a groan and an uncomfortable burble from his stomach, George swatted Paul’s hand away, recieving cheers from the others. 

“There he is! Up ‘n at ‘em Georgie boy!” There was a playful thwak at his side that only made him groan again, curling over on himself. 

“We know you’re tired, but let’s all at least suffer together shall we?” John and Paul shared a laugh, and George could feel a warm hand press up against his cheek, cold metal rings making him pull away slightly as they made contact. the hand hovered by his cheek for a moment, George leaning into it before the hand retreated up to his forehead.  The laughter from the other two died down, and George could see their lightly concerned stares on him even with his eyes closed. The hand retreated once more, brushing his bangs to the side. 

“You feeling alright, Georgie?” Even opening his eyes to look up at the other seemed too much of a challenge. He shook his head and could immediately hear the others scoot up to get a look at him. He feels two other hands pressed against his cheeks and forehead, one playfully ruffling his hair as the other three Beatles mumble words his fevered brain couldn’t put together.

“I think we should go back to the hotel, he feels pretty warm,” Paul fretted, pressing his hand against the back of George’s neck again to be sure. 

“Brain’ll kill us if we cancel this close to performance.”

“Better we cancel now than right before the show when he passes out.” With a nod of agreement the three stayed close to George throughout the remainder of the car ride, the sick man nodding off against the window until he was rudely awakened by a sudden knot in his stomach. As his muddled mind struggled to wake up more he realized how nauseous and bloated he felt; like getting seasick right after dinner. The movement of the car only made him feel worse, and soon enough he had slurred something along the lines of “pull over” before throwing open the door and learning out just in time for a round of the cornflakes he’d choked down earlier to reappear, splattering onto the side of the road. His stomach twisted in agony, and even after a few more very productive, milky burps and retches a cloud of nausea continued to hang over him. At some point someone had started rubing his back, probably Paul; he could feel his delicate fingers slowly tracing patterns down his spine. 

“As rounds 2, 3, and 4 made their appearance and Paul helped keep George upright and inside the car, and Jon was turned away from them both for fear he may add his own breakfast to the concoction, Ringo turned to the driver and order they be taken back to the hotel. They were a little over halfway to the studio but they figured the less movement for George the better. After they were sure he was finished for the time being they started the journey back, every turn and bump in the road eliciting a small noise of discomfort as his stomach cramped and roiled. Every time he blinked it took more and more effort to open his eyes again until finally he opened them see to see the hotel they were staying at and a surprisingly few amount of fans crowding outside, theiri screams getting increasingly louder as the car pulled up. George doesn’t think he’d ever been so relieved to see an American hotel. 

Getting into the hotel posed a slight challenge, though. The second he stood up he was bent in half as another albeit smaller wave of vomit splashed up onto the sidewalk. He would have fallen into it had Paul not grabbed him once more, the others trying to sheild from fans and swarming paparazzi without being hit. The world seemed to spin and the crowd’s screams were so loud he felt like his head might explode. He closed his eyes to try and shut out the screaming and the flashing lights and the pain that they brought, and when he opened them again they were inside, half-walking half-dragging George up to their shared suite. He could still hear the screams, but they were so muffled he wasn’t sure whether they were still coming from outside or in his own head. His stomach cramped and gurgled, and George slouched over, both arms wrapped across it protectively.

"You alright there, Georgie?" John asked, and though there was no condescending note to his tone George still found himself huffing at the pity. 'I'm being childish', he thought, and with an arm still guarding his stomach he stood straight and walked slightly ahead of the others, dragging them back to their room before delicately hanging up his coat, toeing off his shoes, and slamming the bathroom door with a quick retch.

"Should I go check on him?" Paul asked, already gripping the doorknob and letting himself in. The sight nearly broke his heart. His band mate, best friend, and basically younger brother was curled over the side of the toilet, his back sweat-soaked and heaving as he gagged and struggled. There was a small puddle of bile by his feet and a spot or two on his shirt where he hadn't made it, and Paul immediately grabbed the towel by the sink and set it over the puddle, resting a comforting hand on George's back. A few minutes passed of the younger Beatle gasping and choking up his partially digested breakfast before John and Ringo joined them, and eventually they all led George out to a spot on the couch with a bowl at his feet and blankets surrounding him. Ringo slipped a thermometer in his mouth, just barely dodging the bout of sick that bubbled up with the gag the thermometer drew out.

"Ugh.. Sorry," he groaned, one hand wrapped over his stomach which twisted and contorted inside him, desperately trying to get whatever was inside him out. The other was supporting his weight, shakily braced on the arm of the couch as John held the bowl under his dripping chin. Ringo slipped the thermometer back under his tongue.

"You're alright," he responded, and George groaned as the vile was removed. "That's a fever."

"Dammit."

"Looks like no concert tonight, then," Paul said, receiving a cheer from John.

"Thank god! Finally a break. Thank you, George." The younger man sank down in his seat, and the others shook their heads. "What? I'm grateful!" With a sigh, Paul sank down beside him.

"What John means is no one is upset with you, Georgie. This happens, and really I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did." George nodded, and still curled in his little ball leaned into Paul, the others joining in as well. His stomach hurt, his entire body ached, but maybe with the others by his side this wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

[fallingappleshurt]

Do y’all wanna see the VERY BASIC outline for my AU based off the Project Pink story, this shit that I wrote while sleep deprived

Too bad have it anyways

(I will be adding a lot more to this AU and might change some stuff but here are just the basics, god I’m tired)

ANYWAYS Finding a Home

There aren’t really any set age ranges or stories in place for this yet, it’s more just a brain dump word vomit thing

Techno:

-A really good student even though he procrastinates all of the time

-He really likes to read

-Has really big boxy glasses that are too big for his face (He’ll grow into them eventually)

-He has claimed himself to be Wilbur’s protector of sorts, making sure he doesn;t do anything too reckless or stupid and overall just trying to help him

-He has stopped Wilbur from doing so much stupid shit, you don’t even know

-They have been through about 6 foster homes before being placed with Phil

-They were split up once but after a few weeks Techno got sick of his home and met up with Wilbur, who hid him for two days before getting busted

-They put Techno back in the same home but he ran away again, he saved up money and stayed in a gross motel for a day then in a park for another before being found

-Finally he was placed back with Wilbur and they were put with Phil

-Techno is obsessed with space, absolutely star-struck (haHA) by it

- The different planets and their environments, stars, comets, he thinks it’ll all super interesting

-He has those shitty glow in the dark stars on the wall next to his bunk

-Once he and Wilbur snuck out to the woods at night and climbed up a tree to star gaze away from city lights

-(Majority of their ‘delinquent stuff was before they met Phil)

-He and Wilbur would spray paint animal faces on water tanks and abandoned properties

-They spent half of their childhood in a kind of crappy neighborhood with weird streets, trashy houses, and the town was overall just dumpy

-They would wander around and explore some of the closed off or abandoned houses just to see what was there

-They couldn't do this any when they were placed with Phil, who lives in the suburbs

-They can still cause chaos, somewhat, where he works

-Techno and Phil go to the library everyone, it’s become a tradition

-Techno likes pigs, enough said

Wilbur:

-Dirty crime boy

-Has definitely hidden from the cops before, nothing that serious

-Really likes to play the guitar

-He has fairy lights hanging around the top bunk of his bed, there was nothing to hang them on so he taped them to the wall

-He is actually really good with spray paint

-Phil got some old wooden boards for Wilbur to paint on instead of private property, cause, ya know

-He gets is paint from some rando at school

- He really likes to adventure and sneak around

-Half of the stuff he does gives Techno a heart attack

-Wilbur is okay at school but he doesn’t really like it but for some reason he is really good at science

-He’s mad there isn’t a guitar option for the band or orchestra

-At an old foster home he would steal an older siblings guitar to practice with, he did this so much to the point where they would have to lock it away so he couldn’t get to it

-So he learned to pick locks

-So they had to hide it in different places

-He really likes the ocean, especially coral reefs and sea animals

-He wants to scuba dive some day!

-Techno learned a bunch of ocean facts and will randomly spew them at Wilbur

-He enjoys it

-Wilbur likes to listen to Techno talk about anything like books, shows, movies, anything that he is interested in and will listen to Techno talk about it for hours, it’s especially interesting when he’s passionate about the topic and Wilbur can see him getting more excited and into it

-Techno has books that’d read outloud to Wilbur when they were younger, sometimes when they can’t sleep, he’ll read out loud again

-Wilbur really likes stickers and has a box of them but doesn’t know where to put them so they just stay in the box

-He keeps collecting them though

-He teaches Tommy the guitar every Thursday

-He will randomly walk up behind Techno and rest his chin on Technio’s head

Phil:

-He is the manager of a mall (BEAR WITH ME)

- He has fostered kids before but never adopted before Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy

-He is good at handling chaos, thank god, and isn’t really phased by half of the stuff his kids do

-He gardens, he randomly started one day and found out he has a green thumb

-He also is a good cook and spends time trying to teach the boys how to cook, or at least not set the kitchen on fire

-Techno and Tommy show promise but Wilbur might be a lost cause for cooking

-He has a heart tattooed on his left wrist

-The bucket hat is something he wears when gardening

-He bought Wilbur his first guitar and a song book to go with it, later on he got Wilbur a notebook so he could write songs or anything he wanted to

-He takes Techno to the library every week, the first time they went Techno only got a few books but the next time he got like 16 and some of them were thick boys and Techno couldn’t carry them all

-He has taken all of them to the aquarium and Wilbur almost lost his shit trying to see everything

-Techno read all of the fish information tablets and Tommy liked the interactive pool where you could poke rocks and shit

-He brings them to work with him sometimes and lets them wander around the mall, praying to god they don’t set shit on fire

-He is really patient with Tommy but once they got comfortable with each other he had no problem teasing him, all of the boys really

-He really likes birds and has a bird feeder in the tree in their backyard

Tommy:

-Gremlin

-That’s it

- He is super energetic and bouncy

-He has trouble falling asleep sometimes because of this

-He is loud and can be rude but means well

-He wasn’t super interested in a lot of things but he loves legos, even if there aren’t any specific things he has to build, he just likes to make giant towers with them and sets them up around the house

-They have all stepped on so many legos, oh so many legos

-He’s really smart but has a hard time focusing so he gets help from Techno and Wilbur, and Phil, sometimes

-His knees are constantly scraped

-He made friends with a kid named Tubbo from school, they became close friends really quickly

-Tubbo and Tommy switched bandanas, Tommy gave Tubbo his red one and Tubbo gave Tommy his green one (YES I’m going THERE)

-Tommy doesn’t let anyone else touch it

-None of the others actually knew about Tubbo, they’d ask who gave him the bandana and he’d say some girl from school or something

-After awhile Tommy wanted to see Tubbo outside of school so he lied and said he joined a club then would go hang out with Tubbo after school at a park

-This went on for weeks until Techno and Wilbur got suspicious, Wilbur actually cut class and followed Tommy, who was still in elementary, like 5th grade, at the time and got out earlier, and saw him meeting at a park

-He didn’t find this to be that bad and told Techno but not Phil

-Eventually Tubbo got to meet the rest of the family but that wasn’t until sixth grade or so

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part eighty seven/

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: enjoy!

Warnings: light smut, death?, language

Taglist: @miserablecunt​ , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol ,  @a-simple-salmon ,  @hi-my-name-is-riley​ , @extremesadnerding​ , @thatbandchick39​ , @awkwrdcait​ , @countrygirlswonderland​, @awesomealmostdopestudent​, , @tashy-bear​, @krazykatkay456​, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill​ @beachystars​, @rodriguez025​, @kickstart-myheart-sixx​, @s-outhie​, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls​, @vintagebox​ @shamelessobsessions​, @jerseytaint​@criminalyetminimal​, @trapt-in-a-dream​,  @broke-n-bitchy,  @lovesick-heart0​, @keepcalm-and-beyou​, @miriampraez​, @teenwolflover28​, @lilyhw1​, @herbertweeest​, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001​,  @waywardprincess666​, @iluvmesomemarvelndc​, @zoenicoles​, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london​, @nassauartist  @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist , @sleepyjunhong  @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier  @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx,  @m0rnlngstar, @love-struck-aries, @youretheonlyonewhomakesme,  @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @patheticgay69 @rocknroll--baby @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @thechangingme, @idkmanhereisshitilike, @makaelahdelvalle

"Maybe...maybe I can send them flowers? Everyone likes flowers right? Or send a muffin basket. People like to eat when someone dies." I rambled on and on as Nikki followed me through the house.

"I should just call right? It shows I care more than sending flowers or sweet treats. That's what I would like. Should I do that? What do you think I should do?" I took a deep breath in, trying to keep the tears from coming as I picked up scattered toys from both Arianna and Anarchy.

"Vanity.." Nikki spoke softly as he put his hand on my shoulder. I exhaled deeply before covering my face.

"How do I say I'm sorry for the lost of your child?"  I croak, sobbing into my hands as he pulled me flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning his chin on my shoulder

Mick had called just a little while ago explaining to us that Sharise called to let him know Skylar had passed away due to complications from her cancer diagnosis. Mick mentioned Vince was a mess and couldn't pick up the phone.

Nikki kisses the back of my head. I hear him sniffling too, "Y-you should call him.." I turn in his embrace to face him, "He's your brother. You should reach out, he's probably in so much pain right now."

Nikki disagreed as he shook his head which caused me to cry harder, "I-I can't do that. He barely answered my calls months ago. He wouldn't answer them now. Especially not right now. He has his friends and family, Vanity."

I take a few deep breaths in through my nose as I try to relax, "Do you still have his number? I'll call him. It's-it's out of respect Nikki. Imagine if it was-if it was Ari.." I get worked up again, tears pouring out as I wipe at them to the point that it hurt.

"I don't want to think of that." He looks at me, rubbing his hand over his face before it rests over his mouth as he's thinking, "Just say whatever you need to say to feel better." He tells me as he reaches for the phone, punching in numbers before he's holding it out for me.

I take the phone stepping over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek, he breathes in deeply before giving my hip a squeeze and goes out to the backyard with the dog.

I sit down on the couch, hearing the phone ring before a grumbled voice answers, "H-hey Vinny...it's Vanity. Vanity Blackwood.." I hear Vince's sigh of annoyance, "Mick just called...I am so sorry for your loss. I couldn't even begin to imagine what you're going through.."

Vince laughs a bit, "Yeah. Right. Look, I don't need to hear a pity party especially from you."

I frown a bit at his harsh tone seeping through the phone, "It's not like that at all Vince. We're still friends even if you and Nikki aren't...at least I think we are?"

"You and Nikki and your happy little family can just fuck the hell off! Don't call me again, Vanity."

My eyes water as I try to blink back tears, seeing Nikki standing at the glass door smoking a cigarette and looking at me, "Vince, it's not like that at all, I swear to you. I am sorry for your guys's fallout but I am just coming to you as a parent, that's all. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am and if you or Sharise need anything at all just let me know."

"I don't need shit from you."

"Vince-" I put the phone down when I hear the dial tone on the other line. I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends as I sink into the couch. I should have just chose the nice flower bouquet and an apology note.

I close my eyes, hearing the sliding door open and shut before Nikki sits on the couch next to me. I raise his arm and curl up into his side, "He just said for me and my happy family to fuck off."

"He's upset and mourning doll...he doesn't mean it." I nod as I breathe in the scent of cigarette smoke and old spice deodorant.

"I know. Maybe I'll try Sharise."

Nikki sighed before reaching with his other hand to grasp my chin, pointing my head upwards to look at him, "Not right now Van, let her be with her parents. I'm sure she'll be with Vince too and they have each other. I know you have nothing but good intentions but just let it be for now, okay?"

I look at Nikki, nodding slowly as my eyes burn and sting with tears, "Okay..."

*Tommy's POV*

I yawned following Nikki around the antique store as he checked out some tables and lamps. I fumbled with some clock before Nikki scolded me like a child to put it down before I broke it, "Dude this store is boring.." I groan as we go further into the shop.

"God, you're worse than Arianna. I can't find anything anyways. I probably have to go to the shop out in Santa Barbra." Nikki tells me as we start heading back to front of the store, we wave bye to the shop clerk before walking through the mall.

I tune Nikki out as he starts going on about how he wants to redo the decor for his office. My eyes wander to the bright fluorescent lights of the jewelry store as my feet take me into its direction, "Hold on man, I want to look at something real quick."

I've been thinking about proposing to Clementine as we've been together for a little over a year now. Clem and I have never really talked about marriage other than my last two failed ones, "How'd you know you wanted to propose to Van? And how did you know it was the right time?" I turn to Nikki as I open up the door and walk in.

He chuckles a bit, "Uh...I don't know man? I just knew. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I know some people think we rushed into getting engaged and despite how everything is at the moment, I love her and I don't think I could ever imagine her being away from me. Why?"

"I don't know...with Clem being pregnant and everything I've just been thinking about asking her to marry me. I rushed with the other two and I just don't want to make the same mistake."

"Tommy, if you think you have to be married just because she's pregnant and society tells you it's the right thing to do then you're dumb. It's okay to not be tied up just in case it doesn't work out."

I shook my head looking at some rings in the glass case, "No, I don't want to marry her just because she's pregnant. I want to marry her because I love her. I just don't want her to feel pressured, I know you don't like her that much but I don't want her to freak out on me."

"Are you to gentleman looking for something in particular? I'd be happy to help." A busty redhead comes up to me and Nikki "Were having a sale today, our rings start at five thousand and it's 15% off for customizing."

I shake my head, "No thank you, I'm just looking for now.."

"Well, do you have anything that screams I'm sorry for being an asshole and I love you?" Nikki questioned as the woman laughed.

"Our diamond tennis bracelets are right over here. They're always a winner and they start at twenty five hundred."

"Thanks, I'll take a look around." Nikki tells her as I laugh a bit.

"In the dog house again?" I question as I bend down, finding a diamond on a simple gold band.

"When am I not in the fucking dog house?" I hear the eye roll in his voice, "I-I went on another date with Donna, but I didn't come home until the morning so Van thinks I'm sleeping with her now but I'm not. She'll barely say anything to me, but I'm not allowed to get mad when she's up late at night talking to whoever that guy is she's been seeing. All laughing and giggling and talking sweet. It makes me want to vomit."

"Well maybe you two shouldn't be seeing other people. That just sounds bad already, but sounds explosive for you two in particular. You really haven't slept with Donna? She's super hot."

We both smirks at each other like naughty school boys, "Yeah, she is isn't she? But no, I swear on Nonas grave I haven't slept with her. Just heavy make out sessions but nope, I've kept my dick in my pants. Would like it to go inside Van but she's being, well, she's being Van."

I laughed a bit as I glanced at some other rings, "Hate to break it to you man, but that's never gonna change. You think Clem would like that one?" I point to a silver band with an oval shaped diamond and a few smaller diamond wrapping around it.

I watched as Nikki shrugged, "I don't know man. It's simple but gets the point across. Clementine doesn't strike me as someone who would want a big fancy diamond that could be used as a paper weight."

I waved over that same redhead from earlier, "Uh...Maxine? Can I see that ring right there please?"

I wait and watch as Maxine unlocks the glass case, seeing Nikki wander off to go look at earrings. I smile when the ring is laid on a black velvet platform for me. I gently pick it up, seeing the jewels sparkle under the light. The inclusions of the diamonds created a rainbow affect as I tilted it back and forth between my finger tips.

"I think I'll take it. She needs a size 7."

"Oh that's wonderful! This is a very beautiful ring and any woman would be lucky to have it. Let me get it sized and wrapped up for you and I'll meet you at the cash register." Maxine tells me as she takes the ring and heads to the back.

I go over to Nikki seeing him holding up a gold tennis bracelet but every other stone was a ruby, or a garnet. I could never tell the difference.

"These dangler earrings would go absolutely perfect with the bracelet." The other woman tried selling it as Nikki shook his head.

"No, she doesn't like the dangler earrings. They get caught in her hair. But she has a pair of ruby studs that would go with them. It's her birthstone. But I for sure want the bracelet. Can you wrap it up nice for me? With the gold paper."

"Yes sir, of course."

We go up to the cash register as Maxine helps me first, she opens the box and shows me the ring before putting it in a red bag, "You made a very good selection. Are we going to be doing payments on the ring?"

I clear my throat hearing Nikki chuckle behind me, "No ma'am, I want to pay it in full." I grab my wallet from my back pocket and pull out my gold American Express credit card.

"Very well then, it will be a total of 23,700$." God, Clem's gonna kill me. I pay for the ring and thank her for helping. I step to the side for Nikki to come up.

"It's okay buddy, Vans ring was 85,000$ and we didn't even get married." He tells me as I rolled my eyes, "It's just collecting dust in my underwear drawer now."

"That will be 2,800$" I hear Nikki mumble something about a princess before he digs his wallet out and groans.

"She took my card the other day and didn't put it back." I watch as he then starts pulling out hundreds and fifties.

"Jesus Christ Nikki.." I shake my head "You really keep that much money in your wallet?"

"Sometimes..."

We both walk out of the store after, "I really hope Clemmy likes it...you think she will?"

Nikki glances at me, "Yeah man. She should at least. It's a nice ring and if she doesn't then it's not the end of the world you can always take it back for it to be customized or she can pick out her own ring. It will be fine T."

"I'm sure it will be too, but you know I get nervous sometimes." I confide in him as he nods, "Have you heard from Vince?"

Nikki takes a deep breath before exhaling, "No, Vanity tried calling him but he was not very welcoming about it. But we sent Sharise flowers the other day. Have you?"

I shook my head, "I sent him an email and expressed my condolences. I did get ahold of Sharise though...she was nice. Even said we can go to Skylar's service if we wanted too, but I don't know...I feel like Vince wouldn't be too happy about that. It fucking sucks man. I couldn't ever imagine what it's like to lose a kid."

"Yeah man, I know-" I wait until Nikki unlocks his car and we both get in, "Vanity cried for hours over it then we had to explain to Arianna why she was crying. That was hard to do, but I think she sorta grasped the concept of death. I just hope we don't have to tell her again for a long time. I can't stand seeing her little bottom lip quiver or her eyebrows pulling together in confusion like that."

"Do you think I'll be a good dad? I had a good dad and I turned out fine, no offense to you. But what if I'm not good enough or there for them enough?" I slump back into the seat as I roll down the window.

"Yeah thanks for that." He laughs a bit, "I think being a dad is easier than being a rockstar. Some days are harder than others. But you have a good head on your shoulders, plus you have Clementine and wasn't she a big help in New York?"

"I mean yeah she was, but it's different when it's your own kid I think. I should read some of those parenting books. You think that would help?"

"I don't know, Tommy? I've never read them, plus kinda missed out on the whole newborn baby thing, remember?"

"Well yeah, but aren't you two gonna have more? You'd read them then right?" I ask him as he just stays quiet and focused on the road, "You two have to have more kids. Arianna needs siblings."

"Tommy, you're asking a lot of hard questions. Van and I can barely get along at the moment. We haven't had sex since Valentine's Day, and when we did she made me wear a condom. I would like to have more kids with her, but right now is just not a good time for me and her." Nikki explains to me, but I can hear the pain in his voice. I always knew how much he loved her, how he would give his last dying breath to have her.

"I don't know why you two put yourselves through this. You two aren't in your twenties anymore, I mean shit Nikki, you're almost forty."

"Shut the fuck up." Nikki reaches over and punches my arm, "I know how old I am and I'm reminded every time Vanity points out a grey hair."

"Do you tell her she's the reason why you have grey hair? Because it's probably true."

*Nikki's POV*

I stand in front of Vanity, blocking the tv with the gift bag behind my back. Her eyes dart up to mine and she gives out a sigh of annoyance, "What Nikki?"

"What Nikki?" I mock her tone, laughing as she glares at me. I sit down on the chaise part of the sectional and hold out the gold bag by my index finger, "I got something, you want it?" I raise my eyebrows and a smirk plastered on my lips as she rolls her eyes and sits forward and reaches for it, "Ah, Ah, Ah...say please."

"You're annoying." Van says as she leans her head back against the couch, "May I please have it?"

"Why of course princess." I place the bag on her lap, chuckling a bit when she throws the tissue paper at me before pulling out a long velvet box. I see her look at me a moment before she opens it. She tries to downplay her smile as she clips the gold and ruby bracelet around her wrist, "Do you like it?"

Van nods as she looks at me, her cheeks warm and pink "Thank you, Nikki. It's really pretty."

"You're welcome doll. I figured it would help with an apology...I'm sorry I didn't tell you I would be staying the night with her. I'm sure I worried you when I didn't call. And I know Arianna was upset, believe me, she let me know. But I am sorry Van." I express softly as I move closer to her on the couch, taking her wrist in my hand as I look at the bracelet.

"I'm just mad that you spent the night with her and I'm stuck here overthinking about what you may or may not be doing. I don't like thinking of that stuff but I can't help it." She explains as I take her hand and press my lips to the top of her knuckles.

"I know princess. And I'm sorry for that. I know you overthink and get anxious sometimes, I shouldn't feed into it. But I promise you Van, I didn't do anything with her and I haven't done anything and I'm not gonna do anything. Okay?" I feel her intertwine our hands together as I look at her and repeat myself, "Okay?"

She stares at me a moment "Okay...but you better mean that Nikki or I swear to god, I'll move out if you even put the fucking tip in."

I grin as I lean over and kiss her cheek "What about a hand job? Will you still move out?" I laugh when she smacks my chest, "Have you slept with that guy you're seeing? What's his name?"

Van laughs turning her head to the side before looking at me, "His name is Jon, and no I haven't slept with him. I haven't even kissed him unlike you that comes home with a hickey." She points out before poking the fading bruise on the side of my neck.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What does he look like?"

"Um...well, he's taller than me. Has short, shaggy brown hair with some highlights. His ears are pierced and he has a few tattoos." She shrugs, "He travels back and forth between Jersey and here.." I see her glance at me as I nod.

"Oh cool. Some business dude? And you aren't bored of him? I'm surprised."

"Well...not really business like you're thinking..."

"Are you gonna see him again?" I question, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before her neck, smirking against her skin when she tilts her head.

"Yeah..next weekend. He has something planned for us.." I hear the shaky breath as my teeth gently nip her.

"He calls a lot doesn't he? That's nice of him, to check up on you...does he know about me? About us?" I question, letting my hand slide up and down her bare thigh under the blanket she's wrapped up in, finger tips dipping under the bottom hem of her pajama shorts.

Van nodded, relaxing against the couch, "He was very surprised to know that I knew you and that we have a relationship."

A deep chuckle escapes my lips as I grip her jaw in my palm and turn her head to look at me, "I'm surprised that didn't scare him off. How could an average joe live up to a rockstar?" I question, seeing her glance at my lips before looking back at me, "He couldn't please you like I could. Someone that already knows all your wants and needs...someone that knows how to get you going so easily." My hand falls from her jaw to wrap around her throat, squeezing just slightly as a I hear her quiet whimper. My eyes close when Van presses her lips against mine, her hands entangling themselves in my hair.

I reach for her arms and pull her onto my lap, her thighs straddling mine as I deepen the kiss. I grab a hold of hair in my fist, tilting her head back as I lick a stripe from the bottom of her throat to the top. I feel her nails digging into my chest before her fingers grip my shirt. Van presses her body against mine as she wraps her arms around me, she breaks the kiss her eyes staying closed as she rests her forehead against mine.

We stay like that for a moment before she tells me she loves me. I smile and peck her lips softly, "I love you too." My hands slide down her shoulders, taking the flimsy strap of the tank top with me as she does the rest of the work and pulls her arms out. I kiss across her chest as she holds my head in place. My tongue swirls around her nipples before I tug on them. My eyes glancing up at her as she moans and her head tilts back.

Her ass grinds against the tent in my sweatpants as I bite back my own moans and grunts. I feel her hand go between us as she dips inside my pants and boxers and starts jerking me off.

"Fuck me.." I groan, closing my eyes as my head rolls  from side to side. She leans closer, her tongue darting out against my neck as she kisses and sucks a bruise onto me. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth as I feel my cock leaking pre cum only for Vanity to gather it and use it while she strokes me. I start breathing heavier, feeling her speed up her ministrations as her thumb swipes over the tip repeatedly, "Fuck, Van...you're doing so good baby." I run my thumb over her bottom lip as she smiles, playfully biting it before taking it between her lips.

We both jump and she gives me a particularly hard squeeze when the house phone starts ringing. Annoyed, I reach for it on the the couch and say hello, tilting my head when Van kisses my neck.

"Is Vanity available?" I hear another mans voice as I roll my eyes.

"Yeah. Hold on." I take the phone away and hand it to her, "It's for you. I think it's your boyfriend." I smirk at her as she takes the phone from me.

I lean forward pressing my lips to her her neck and collar bone as she grips my hair and tries to pull me away, "No, no Jon I'm not busy. No, it's okay. I'm just watching TV." I look up at her as i move my head down, letting my tongue swirl around her nipple again before pinching the other one.

"Ye-yeah I'm okay!-" she gasps rather loudly when I bite down, "No, it's just the show I'm watching, um..just a soap opera. I'm a sucker for drama." She mouths 'stop' to me but I just shake my head.

"I'm doing okay, just been working and being a mom. Nothing to interesting going on over here. How about you? I miss you too Jon." I quirk an eyebrow towards her before shoving my hand into her shorts, feeling her panties and herself absolutely soaked. I slot a finger through her folds before rubbing soft circles against her clit. I laugh when she reaches for my hand to stop me.

"Is that Nikki? Um....yeah that's Nikki...soap operas are his guilty pleasure." Van grabs my shoulder when I slide two fingers in her, curling up against her immediately.

"Fuck...Jon I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon?" I look up at Van with adoring eyes as I reach to press a kiss to her chin, twisting and pumping my fingers inside her faster as a small cry leaves her pretty lips.

I place soft and delicate kisses on her neck as I hear his muffled voice on the other line. Van stares at me with bright eyes, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth as I push another finger inside of her.

"Mhmm...yes that's-that's fine Jon! Just-I gotta go....oh fuck.." I watch as her body tenses, her eyes closing shut but her lips parting as I feel her nails claw at the back of my neck when she rides out her high.

I smirk at her when I take my hand out of her pants and bring my fingers to my lips, "N-no...I'm good..I just stubbed my toe really hard. I'll talk to you tomorrow Jon, okay? Goodnight." Vanity hangs up and throws the phone down, shoving on my chest as I laugh "It's not funny, Nikki! That's embarrassing!"

"Oh come on-" I roll my eyes, "You seemed to like it very much, maybe a little too much." I grin as she shoves me again.

"I can't fucking stand you." Vanity tells me as she pretends to put up a fight, but I see the playful smirk on her face before she's pressing her chest to mine and kissing me again.

[magnoliasinbloom]

Say You Won’t Let Go

Inspired by James Arthur’s song, a brief retelling of a life well lived and loved.

AO3

I met you in the dark, you lit me up You made me feel as though I was enough We danced the night away, we drank too much I held your hair back when You were throwing up

Jamie was elated. And very drunk. Claire had danced with him, then proceeded to drink all of their friends under the table. He was cautious to believe the tight grip she had on him as they had swayed to the music was anything other than the alcohol, but he could hope, could he not?

Invited by Geillis, his feisty neighbor, to try and distract him after the sudden death of his father a few months ago, he had accepted, knowing that Claire – Geillis’s equally feisty, curly-headed roommate, would be there too. His Sassenach… or at least, that’s how he referred to her privately, in the recesses of his mind, and his heart. Jamie had been hopelessly in love with her for a year now.

Celebrating the end of their medical school exams, the party raged on, growing louder and more raucous as the night wore on. Eventually, they were kicked out at closing time. Guiding Claire and Geillis to the street corner as he summoned an Uber on his phone, Geillis suddenly changed tack and declared she would be spending the night with her boyfriend, Arthur Duncan.

“Ye can manage, can’t ye, Jamie? Braw lad.” With a hearty slap on the back, Geillis tottered over to Arthur, who welcomed her with open arms as they tried repeatedly to hail a cab.

Of the two, Jamie was in better, slightly less drunk condition. Claire, completely sloshed, leaned heavily on Jamie, who felt his face redden as her breasts pressed against him. The Uber pulled up, and Jamie opened the door for her.

“Och, lass, in ye get, come on.” He supported her as she climbed into the passenger seat, averting his eyes as her dress rucked further up her legs. Claire slumped into the seat as he buckled her in.

“You…shhhmell good, Fraser.” Christ, she was properly sozzled, if she was calling him by his surname.

“Um, thank ye?” Jamie shook his head as he slid into the opposite side, and they were driven to their apartment building.

After helping an increasingly uncooperative Claire up the stairs (the lift conveniently out of service), finding the key in her purse, and leading her to her bedroom, she made a beeline for the bathroom instead, where he could hear her vomit.

“Oh God.” Jamie followed her into the bathroom and immediately reached down to hold her hair back. He thought of how tempted he had always been to touch the mad riot of her hair.  

Then you smiled over your shoulder For a minute, I was stone-cold sober I pulled you closer to my chest And you asked me to stay over I said, I already told ya I think that you should get some rest

Jamie helped her rinse her mouth out at the sink. Claire turned to him with a sweet, drunken smile that went straight to his wame. He managed to return it somewhat shakily as he led her to her bed.

“You should sh-shtay, Jamie,” she slurred, patting the space next to her. Jamie felt the last of the whisky fog leave him, and he felt quite awake and sober suddenly. She could not possibly be suggesting…

“No, Sassenach, ‘tis not proper, you’re not in yer right senses.” He tucked her in and fussed about with the blankets, that she might not see his face.

“Mebbe not, but I know what I want.” What was that saying, children and drunks always tell the truth? “An’ I want you, Jamie. Have for a looong time. Since we met, I think. Yeshhh, that’s right. You are pretty…” She batted at his face absently.

Jamie’s heart went into overdrive, pounding crazily, but he ignored it. She was out of it with drink. She would not remember this tomorrow. But perhaps she was right, and he should stay in case she was sick again or tried to walk and had an accident. He’d take the lumpy couch he’d helped haul up from the charity shop where Geillis had found it.

Claire’s eyes were already drifting shut. He would leave her to rest. As he made to leave, Jamie couldn’t resist smoothing the curls from her forehead.

As he did so, Claire’s eyes fluttered open one last time and she sighed, “I think I will marry you, Fraser. Cosss I love you.”

And with that, she finally passed out.

I knew I loved you then But you'd never know 'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go I know I needed you But I never showed But I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go

“I like ye Claire. I’d like to ask ye on a date.”

Jamie wiped the sweat off his forehead and thought he looked feckin’ ridiculous, with his face aflame enough to match his hair as he practiced in front of the pub’s restroom mirror. It had been a week since the drunken flat encounter.

Claire had woken him up with the brightest smile this side of hung over and a cup of steaming coffee. That luminosity and that lazy curl playing on her forehead… Despite her declarations of love and the fact that she’d like to marry him (two thoughts that made his heart flip flop thrillingly in the vicinity of his throat), Jamie felt a date was in order first and foremost.

Jamie glanced once more at the graffiti surrounding his face in the mirror, took a deep breath, and stepped out back into the pub. Claire was at the bar, laughing at something Geillis had said (something dirty, no doubt).

With a deep breath, Jamie stepped closer to Claire and leaned in close so she could hear him over the din of the place.

“Claire, could I speak wi’ ye outside fer a minute?”

“Sure, Jamie. Hey Gee, order me another whisky?”

“Sorted!”

Outside in the warm June night, Jamie faced a quizzical-looking Claire. Her smile caused his heart to stutter and the following to tumble from his mouth:

“You date me, Claire and I’d ask to like ye on a – ah, mallaichte bas!”

Not at all how he’d imagined it going.

“What?” Claire’s cheeks turned rosy red as she laughed, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. He ran his fingers through his flaming hair and chuckled.

“I apologize, I meant to say—”

“Oh, I know what you meant. I like you, and I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

I'll wake you up with some breakfast in bed I'll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head And I'll take the kids to school Wave them goodbye And I'll thank my lucky stars for that night

“Six bairns, you say.” Claire rolled the r like he did, endearing as ever.

“Aye, wi’ red hair, of course.”

“All of them?”

“Well, no, not necessarily, but I imagine it would be curly, like yers.” Jamie traced the spiraling locks down her back, stretching the curls and watching in fascination as they sprang back into place.

Their first date had gone smashingly well. They had shared dinner, then drinks, and hours and hours of laughter and jokes. This was a side of Claire Jamie had never seen, but suspected he wanted to be his forever. That date had led to another, and coffee in the morning or afternoons, depending on the schedule of Claire’s graduate entry program.

The more time they spent together, the more they realized the strength of the bond between them. Jamie spoke of when he first saw her, how he called her his Sassenach in his head and heart, and mo nighean donn for the first time out loud; Claire herself confessed that she had always found him attractive, and kindhearted, and amazingly available, despite the looks he commanded from the other girls in their social group. Their friendship had turned to that indefinable else – love, acknowledged and declared in a passionate kiss that had ended in them exploring each other’s bodies for the first time. There had been many other times since.

Jamie shifted in the bed, tracing tickling patterns on her back as she sighed contentedly. Her whisky eyes were barely discernible in the candlelit glow of his room, but he could see them open at half-mast; that glint of desire that matched his own and prompted their next words.

“Perhaps we should get started. Six is a lot of children.” Claire reached down to grasp him firmly, but Jamie shied away with a brief laugh, clasping her hand instead.

“I’d like to marry ye first, Sassenach.”

“Well, that could be some time from now, Jamie,” she pouted, still trying to touch him as he skirted her roving hands and pulled the nightstand drawer open.

“It could be weeks, or even days if ye wanted.” He produced a small black velvet box and knelt on the bed, where Claire went suddenly still with a small gasp.

“I believe ye had already decided ye wanted to marry me, that time you were fair gone with drink after yer exams, but I thought I’d ask properly.”

“Oh, I remember.” Claire smiled faintly, tears coursing down her face. “The occasion, not what I actually said. Remind me?”

“I ken what I want,” Jamie said, recalling her words. “I want ye, Claire. I have for a long time, ever since we met. Ye are beautiful, Sassenach, and I want to marry ye. Because I love ye. Will ye have me?”

When you looked over your shoulder For a minute, I forget that I'm older I wanna dance with you right now Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever And I swear that everyday'll get better You make me feel this way somehow

The church was lit with small votives that lent an understated glow to the stained-glass windows. Jamie thought his heart was going to burst as Claire walked towards him on the arm of her beloved Uncle Lamb.

She was beautiful, seeming to float in her gauzy wedding dress. The smile on her face, though – that was pure magic. Surrounded by their nearest and dearest—his godfather in representation of his late Mam and Da, his siblings, her medical school colleagues, her uncle standing in for her own departed parents—Claire and Jamie pledged their love for each other.

“Ye are blood of my blood,” Jamie said, voice trembling slightly, “and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two may be one. I give ye my spirit, ‘til our life shall be done.” He placed a thin gold wedding band on Claire’s finger, and she clung to his hands tightly as she repeated the vow and slid a matching ring onto his.

They walked out of the small Scottish church to the applause and cheers of their friends waving sparklers in the Highland summer twilight. At the reception Claire felt shivers walk up her spine as Jamie traced her bare shoulders ever so gently while Uncle Lamb recited Burns.

Till a the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi the sun; I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o life shall run…

Jamie leaned in to whisper into Claire’s ear. “Yer face is my heart, Sassenach, and the love of ye is my soul.”

I'm so in love with you And I hope you know Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold We've come so far my dear Look how we've grown And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go

Jamie watched Claire sleeping on her side, hands tucked dreamily under her head. He traced the curve of her swelling belly with eyes, then tender hands, lightly so as not to wake his very pregnant wife.

He wondered if it would be a wee lad or lass. They had decided not to find out, and be properly surprised until the day. Their other child, Faith, was eagerly awaiting her baby brother or sister. He made a mental note to buy a couple of small gifts to give the ween, on behalf of the new bairn.

Claire stirred, shifting, and her golden eyes landed on him, smiling drowsily and patting the space next to her on the bed.

“What’re you doing? Watching me sleep again?”

“Aye, love. Ye ken me well.”

“Stalker.” She yawned and carefully turned, cradling the heft of her belly as she did so. He lay behind her, his chest to her back, and placed his hands on hers.

“Have ye thought more on names?” Jamie’s big hands caressed her gently, moving to press against her back as she moaned in relief.

“Oh, right there, yes… I have some ideas. Well, an idea. What do you think of Brian if it’s a boy, after your da? Or Brianna, if it’s a girl?”

Jamie’s breath caught in his throat, touched beyond words. A brief squeeze of her shoulder told her all he had to say about her suggestion.

“It’s settled then,” she murmured, half asleep again. Jamie let her go under, slipping carefully out of bed. He went about his nighttime routine: turning lights off, checking doors and windows to make sure they were locked, a final peek at Faith in her big-girl bed, clutching her worn lovey.

Finally, he climbed back into bed, facing Claire this time. He found himself drawn to her features again, in peaceful slumber, until he closed his eyes as he fell in love with her again.

I wanna live with you Even when we're ghosts 'Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most

Jamie had Claire’s hands in a death grip as Dr. Rawlings waited quietly for them to process the news. He could feel the delicate tracery of veins in her hands, could recite them from memory, every mark, every spot, every loving wrinkle 76 years of life had wrought on her skin.

Breast cancer. Jamie’s stomach was lodged somewhere in his throat and Claire—his wife, life’s blood, his heart—sat next to him, stone still, her knuckles white with the strength of her control.

“Alright,” Claire finally broke the terrified silence. “Radiation, chemo, the usual, right?”

“We could start there. Another option you may want to consider is a double mastectomy, given we are at a stage two diagnosis. With radiation, your chances of cancer returning drop significantly.”

Jamie found his voice. “What are her chances of… of survival?”

“Each case is individual.” Dr. Rawlings cleared his throat. “Mrs. Fraser’s chances are extremely good, however. We’ve detected it relatively early, and with proper treatment, she has excellent chances. But as you know,” he said, addressing Claire directly now, “we cannot make any firm promises.”

“We understand.” Claire released Jamie’s hands and brushed her fingers lightly over her clavicle, no doubt thinking of the betrayal she felt her body had committed.

“Please take some time to discuss your options with your husband. I’ll give you some privacy.” The doctor stood and shut the door behind him.

The silence returned, deafening in Jamie’s ears and pounding inside his head, despite the multitude of thoughts and the paralyzing fear he felt. He turned to Claire, tears in his eyes; he found steely resolve in hers.

“Jamie, I want the mastectomy.” She swallowed hard and touched the tops of her breasts again. “I think it’s the surest way. I don’t want the chemo. I’ll have the radiation to be sure, but the children—”

“The children are grown, Sassenach. They have children of their own. I ken ye dinna want them to worry for ye, but they’ll want to help, they’ll want to be there with ye every step o’ the way. As do I, Claire.” He reached for her hand again and kissed it.

“So, you agree to the surgery? It means both my breasts will be removed. Jamie, my body—” Claire choked on the last word, tears finally streaming down her cheeks.

“Yer body is beautiful, Sassenach. It will always be beautiful to me, I will always love ye as ye are, no matter what.” He reached across his chair to envelop her in his arms, rubbing up and down her back while she went quietly to pieces.

“I can bear pain myself,” he said softly into her hair, “but I couldna bear yours. That would take more strength than I have.” Jamie pressed a kiss on her temple and leaned back to look Claire square in the eye. “But I will continue to learn from ye, and be yer strength when ye need it most, love. I will support yer choice.”

Claire took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. “The surgery. It’s early days, Jamie. I have a very good chance. But if you’d rather I go through chemo instead…”

“It’s yer mind, and yer good, good heart that I cherish, and I’ll always love and adore yer body no matter what.”

I'm gonna love you 'til My lungs give out I promise 'til death we part like in our vows So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows Finally it's just you and me 'til we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go

Jamie was dreaming.

She walked across the field of heather at Lallybroch, wild dark hair dancing in the wind. Claire. His Sassenach.

He was dreaming because she looked young again, as she had when they had first met. He was dreaming because Claire had been gone for 2 years, passing away in her sleep after battling cancer. Taking his heart with her.

“Mo nighean donn.”

“Jamie.” She reached out and cradled his cheek in her hand. He covered her hand in his own and marveled at the feel of her, a dream or memory no longer, and he understood.

“Am I… dead?”

“You are, my love. In the general sense of the word.” A brief tinge of regret flashed in her amber eyes, to be replaced by fathomless love. “But you are also here with me.”

Jamie looked down and saw his own aged and careworn body, lying peacefully on its side near the broch where he had been walking. He looked like he was sleeping. He remembered stumbling suddenly, falling, and then no more. Despite his advanced age, despite his children’s words, he had refused to stop his morning strolls, and now…

“Will they find me?”

“Brianna sent Roger after you. He will be with her, don’t worry. And Faith has Robert, and they have their children. They will all be alright, after a while.”

“I dinna wish to cause our children pain.” Jamie slid his arms around Claire’s waist, burrowing into her neck and still marveling at the realness, the wonder of her again.

“Pain is a part of life. It is a testament to how much we have loved.”

Jamie pulled away from her, intense and tender at once. “I never stopped, Claire. Ye must ken that. Loving you. These past two years, I have existed, but not lived. For Faith and Brianna, the weans, I tried to go on.” It seemed important, somehow, for him to say this now. “I continued, for their sakes—though I would not have, for my own.”

That miraculous touch again. “They will take comfort in the knowledge that you and I are together again.”

Jamie took her face in his and kissed her mouth, warm honey as he’d always known it, as he remembered. “Forever?”

Claire smiled, luminous. “That amount of time does not exist.”

Hand in hand, they walked into the light.

Just say you won't let go Oh, just say you won't let go

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 25

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Warnings: Drunken behaviour

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This is a fun chapter and I hope you all enjoy it too :D please let me know what you thought in the comments and reblog it so others can read it too!

; Flower Masterpost

-

“Aren’t you bothered that he’s over there and not with you?” Jungkook asks, pointing over to the bar where Hoseok is currently standing and having what appears to be a very serious conversation with Namjoon, Eden and Jimin. Though given how tipsy he had been half an hour ago, you weren’t sure whether it was ‘meaning of life’ serious or ‘were all the children on Barney on drugs’ serious. 

Smiling, you shake your head and take a sip of your Coke that you’ve been nursing for an hour now. “I’m his girlfriend, not his keeper. Besides, it’s his birthday. He can spend it wherever and with whoever he wants.” 

“Very nice of you.” The younger man mumbles and you note the way he keeps shyly looking over at Soyeon, currently sitting opposite you in the booth you’d all situated yourselves in upon arriving. There were too many of you all now with Hoseok’s friends combined with you, Chungha and Soyeon, so they were also sprawled onto a table next to you.

“I’m just saying, but you’d both make a great couple.” The words whisper light against Jungkook’s ear and he shivers slightly as your breath tickles the small hairs of his neck. But he doesn’t say anything in response, instead just setting his jaw before looking back at his bottle of beer.

You’re not sure why you suddenly got bold enough to tell him that, but you were always braver when it came to helping your friends. On your own, you hated talking on the phone but if they needed you to talk on the phone for them then god dammit you’d do it.

Still though, you decide not to push it any further. You’ve said your peace and indicated to him that not only do you think they’d work well together, but also that you would most definitely approve if they decided to actually try out a relationship. The thought of it was quite exciting and you wondered if this was how Chungha and Soyeon had felt when you’d started dating Hoseok.

Leaning back, you casually listened in to the conversation that Chungha, her girlfriend Dahyun, Soyeon, Yoongi and Amelia were all having while Jungkook occasionally added his input. He was a naturally quieter guy, like you, which meant you both ended up simply observing for a lot of the time. Though you were even quieter than him as you weren’t drinking unlike everyone else.

From the glazed look in Chungha’s eyes, she was well on her way to being inebriated and you wondered whether it was the glass of white wine in her hand that was doing it or the two double Southern Comfort and lemonade’s that she’d practically inhaled earlier. Dahyun didn’t look much better and you chuckled as she struggled to get out a word, tripping over her own tongue as she slurred.

Amelia was also sober, due to her normal baby duties outside of this event, and you were pleased that she’d finally been able to come out for something. She’d told you earlier that the baby was being looked after by her sister for the evening, meaning this was the first time that Namjoon and her had been able to socialise like this with their friends in months.

You were pleased that she’d come for Hoseok’s birthday and as you looked over all his friends that were dotted around the room in his favourite bar, you felt a warm happiness swell in your chest at the knowledge they’d all come out for him. You couldn’t imagine being this cosy with this many people like he was but you’d long ago recognised that you were both different people with different needs.

So while you’d inevitably grow bored and tired of being around so many people in...okay well you were already there really, you knew that Hoseok would happily keep going until the early hours of the morning. And he’d made his intentions of getting absolutely fucked earlier in the day to you after he’d opened his presents.

Your vinyl player had gone down very well thankfully and he’d been ecstatic about it, desperate to begin playing some of the many records he’d already been gifted from his family and friends. Along with that, he’d begun drinking at noon with a bottle of special ale that he’d been given by Seokjin and had declared that for the first time in almost a year, he was going to get absolutely wrecked tonight.

The idea of that was horrible to you, someone who hated drinking, but you knew he didn’t let loose like this anymore. So you were more than happy to watch him drink himself into blissful happiness, surrounded by his beloved friends before driving him home later when he was probably too drunk to walk straight.

You were just very thankful that he didn’t do this often as you weren’t sure you could handle it.

“You should go to England, it’s great with a lot of history and beautiful landscapes outside of London. Plus, you can travel to Europe really easily as it’s so damn cheap. I mean, they can take a train to Paris! What the fuck?” Yoongi says, his voice a tone higher than it’s normal deep and rumbling level. 

Laughing quietly, you watch as Chungha nods in an overexaggerated manner before pointing at Yoongi to make a point. Only she’s completely off and is instead pointing out towards the bar. Smiling, you gently take her hand and move it to the correct position and snicker when she doesn’t even realise you’ve done it.

“Right?! I mean...I mean a train! To another country! Like...woaaah. It’s crazy. Can you imagine? Do they have planes over there? Or is it all trains and stuff?” Dahyun gasps at Chungha’s slurred questions and you bite your lip in amusement, rolling your eyes at your best friend’s drunken ramblings.

“Chungha, you know they have planes. You flew from Greece to Italy, remember?” There’s a really blank expression on her face for a moment before realisation hits and she ooh’s loudly, excitedly waving her hands in front of her face.

“Oh my god! Yes! I did! Oh, Greece was so pretty. So...so blue. Pretty.” Jungkook is the one to snort this time and you look at him, raising your brows in question but he just shakes his head, a small smile dancing on his lips.

Finally, you decide to get involved with the conversations, leaning forward so that they can hear you better. “I’ve never even been out of the country before. Hoseok’s been to England though, some metal festival or something.”

“Yeah! That’s the trip I went on. We went to Download Festival and travelled around the UK after that. Went to Wales and Scotland too to get the full experience but we couldn’t get to Northern Ireland in time. Sucks, I wanted to see those big stone thingies in the sea. Man, Hoseok got seriously fucked at Download though. Like, he got into a drinking competition with these guys from the UK in the tent next to us and they absolutely destroyed him. He was vomiting everywhere all night.” Your brows rise at that, looking over at your boyfriend where he’s stood at the bar.

Well, he hadn’t told you that. Made himself sound far more cooler than what Yoongi had just told you.

“I thought he could hold his drink?” You ask, though you’re wondering about that as you watch him down another glass of beer. He’d never got so drunk that he’d vomited around you yet, but given his history you wouldn’t put it past him.

"He can, to a degree. But he was mixing all kinds of alcohol that day and it just...was bad. They thought it was hilarious. Hoseok did not enjoy the next day as he still went to the stages and watched the bands. Idiot almost got a migraine."  Despite his words, there’s an incredibly fond look on Yoongi’s face and you note that he’s probably not quite as drunk as you’d initially thought.

Soyeon snorts with laughter and you look at her with a frown before noting the way she nods with her head towards your side with an amused smile. Glancing over, you realise that Jungkook has left and your boyfriend has taken his place. 

There's a glassy look to his eyes that tells you he's a bit drunker than before and you wonder what Jimin had been giving him at the bar. The mischief maker, who you'd been well warned about by both your boyfriend and his friends, had sworn to make sure Hoseok had a great night. Which evidently meant he had to get the birthday boy absolutely shitfaced.

Hoseok feels overwhelmingly warm as he leans a little too heavily against you, his face having gone incredibly red from the alcohol he’d spent the day consuming. But as soon as you look at him, he gives you what you presume is meant to be a charming smile but instead makes it just look like he has wind.

And then he blinks really hard, causing you to tilt your head at him in confusion. He does it again before blowing you a rather sluggish kiss and you realise what he’s doing with a snort, holding your hand against your mouth.

“Baby, you’re not winking at me. You’re just blinking very hard.” The smooth skin of his forehead wrinkles immediately as he obviously thinks about what you’ve just said before he tries again, getting the same result. And then he purposefully holds one eye open with his fingers, causing you to laugh even harder as you take his hand to stop him from potentially hurting himself.

“Oh my god, please stop." Reaching out, you playfully cover his face with your hand and giggle when he simply flops his head into your palm, eyes closing with a ridiculously loud sigh. It was just after 1am and you were a little surprised he seemed to be flagging already.

Then again, you remembered that he'd been drinking in some form since noon now. The fact he could barely hold his head up right now was possibly the least surprising thing you'd heard all night.

“Are you okay?” Leaning closer to him, you make sure that he can hear you over the raucous talk and laughter of the other bar patrons and the music that’s blaring over the speakers. For a few seconds he doesn’t respond and you wonder whether he heard you, but then you see his face wrinkle and realise he was just taking that long to comprehend what you’d say to him.

“I’m not a baby.” He whines, bottom lip jutting out almost comically and you have to steel yourself to stop from laughing at him. Because he was certainly acting like one right now. But it also endeared you to him and you simply pushed at his lip till it was back in place. Each blink looks particularly slow and lethargic, telling you that he’s probably reached his limit.

“I didn’t say that but okay. Do you want to go home?” This time, you speak clearly into his ear as close as you can get. Almost immediately he makes a noise of protest, his shoulder coming up as he cringes from your voice being so close. ASMR always made him shrink away and you felt a little bad.

But he doesn’t start protesting wildly like some drunk people might, proclaiming himself to be perfectly fine and ready to troop on through the night while downing beer after beer. Instead, he stares blankly at the bottle in his hand for a minute or so, oblivious to the chatter of which 90s boy band was better before nodding slowly.

“‘M tired.” He sighs out and you watch closely as he lifts the bottle to his lips, about to take a sip before sighing and placing it back down on the table with an overly loud thunk. It makes some of them jump around the booth, their eyes widening in drunken surprise and you give them all a smile of apology.

“Here, enjoy this,” You say to Yoongi, hanging him the beer that Hoseok has rejected. There’s no point in letting it go to waste when there’s someone more than willing to have it. “Birthday boy is done for the night it would seem.”

That makes everyone pause, all of their gazes moving to your boyfriend. Hoseok doesn’t notice them, though you’re not sure he notices anything really given how it looks like he’s about to fall asleep right there. Chungha pouts dramatically and holds her arms out, wanting a hug from you which you give her with a laugh.

Looking over at the others, who are slightly more sober, you give them a stern face. “Please make sure she doesn’t drink too much and gets home okay.”

“She’ll be fine.” Soyeon says and you realise she’s the closest thing to sober on the table outside of Amelia. It even looks like she has a big glass of water to keep her going too and you give her a relieved smile before gently persuading Hoseok to leave the booth. He wavers dangerously on his feet, once standing, trying to get his balance before staggering off with his weight leaning heavily on you.

“God, you’re much heavier when drunk.” You mutter, shifting yourself to cope better with the dead weight of his arm on you. There’s a brief pause by the bar to say goodbye to everyone else, and you’re not surprised when no one protests you leaving when they see how far gone Hoseok is now, before you successfully manage to navigate out of the busy bar and onto the street.

Your car was in the nearby parking lot and what had been a two minute walk ended up being ten minutes with Hoseok walking at a snail’s pace. Though that was because he’d almost fallen over about three times. He was surprisingly quiet though, which you found odd as he was pretty loud and boisterous when tipsy.

Not a single word leaves his mouth until he’s slouched in the passenger seat of your car with his seatbelt finally secured, looking very much like the drunk person he was with his limbs placed wherever they’d happened to land. His head rolls back on his shoulders until it thumps against the window, letting him look at you as you fasten your own seat belt and turn the key in the ignition.

“‘Luff you.” He mumbles, the words slurred but still audible to you over the quiet noise of the car engine. Glancing over at him, you can’t help but smile as your heart squeezes at the sight of him. His eyes are beyond glassy now, so unfocused and yet it’s almost like he’s looking at you with his own heart. Hoseok is not only a quiet drunk, but a sappy drunk too apparently.

The speakers kick to life as it connects to Spotify on your phone and you cringe slightly as Metallica starts playing. You’d let him pick the playlist for the night and now you were going to have to suffer for the rest of the journey home as you’d already started driving.

Hoseok is so quiet on the trip back that you keep panicking, looking over to make sure he’s okay only to be met with his blank, impassive stare. Though you think it’s probably only blank because thinking is likely too hard at the moment. It makes you want to giggle at the thought but you don’t, biting your lip to stop yourself.

“You’re pretty,” Glancing at him quickly, you note the way his hand is wavering as he attempts to touch your cheek, only his aim is wildly off and you make a noise of protest as he instead bops you on the nose. It doesn’t deter him though and for the sake of driving safely, you take his hand and press it to your cheek instead. “So pretty. Love you.”

“Okay Hobi, I get it. Thank you. Now, please stop poking my face while I’m driving, okay? You can touch my face all you want when we get home.” You ask him, giving him a persuasive look before taking his hand and squeezing it before placing it back on his lap. For a moment, you think he’s going to argue but he quietens down again, slouching and you’re not sure you’ve ever loved him more than in this moment weirdly.

The rest of the journey is much easier and you pack up outside your apartment building with ease, Hoseok’s car next to your own. Getting him to your apartment is a bit of an issue given he doesn’t appear to have really sobered up any since leaving the bar and you have to cajole him into getting back up when he slides down the wall of the elevator, giggling to himself as he sits. It’s only with the promise of cuddles and Kasumi that he finally gets back up and staggers down the hall to your door.

“God, I really hope I don’t have to do this too much.” You mutter as you get him inside, watching as he toes off his shoes while leaning heavily against the wall. As much as you love him, you hate dealing with drunk people because there’s just no reasoning with them sometimes. Thankfully, at least Hoseok appears to be an amenable drunk.

“Hello my baby! My little angel, oh hello chicken. My little Kasumi-pud, my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you! Aren’t you the cutest kitty?” Hoseok has become immediately distracted by the sight of Kasumi as she walks over to greet you both, the soft chirp causing Hoseok to explode into even more drunk nicknames that get increasingly ridiculous.

And then you curse as he gets a little over eager in his attempts to pet her, bending over instead of crouching and soon toppling onto the floor due to his lack of balance. Kasumi starts, her eyes wide and every inch of her primed to run before moving back over to Hoseok, sniffing his nose and mouth curiously as he simply giggles and strokes her in a surprisingly gentle motion.

“Hoseok! Come on, get up. I don’t want you to hurt yourself now.” You grumble, helping him to stand despite his protests at wanting to stroke his ‘ickle chicken’. Why he was calling her that, you had no idea.

You’re soon shown that Hoseok is even more of a handful once home as you turn around to take your own shoes off and hang up your coat because as soon as you’re back, you realise he’s gone. Eyes widening, you wonder where the fuck he went before you hear the shower turning on in the open bathroom door.

Rushing inside, you see Hoseok has half undressed himself and is standing in the shower, eyes closed as the water beats down on him. Only he’s still wearing his shirt and is only naked on the lower half, causing you to sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Hobi, come on. I don’t want you to get hurt or...drown or something.” Grasping his arm, you try to encourage him out of the shower without causing him any harm but he yanks his arm away in protest, a sound that he must assume is a word leaving his mouth before he goes to grab his shampoo.

“Fuck sake.” You mutter, realising he is not going to let you take him out of the shower. Fine, if he won’t leave then you’ll at least make sure he doesn’t drown himself. It takes a bit of encouragement to get him to take his soaked shirt off but you appease him by instead taking over the hard work of washing his hair and body for him. Why he’s so insistent on this you don’t know, until he mutters when you wash his arm.

“Icky. I’m icky. Stupid Sambuca.” It’s then that you realise his arm is ever so slightly sticky beneath the water. Someone evidently spilled Sambuca over his arm instead of actually drinking it, and your nose wrinkles at the thought of him going to bed stinking of aniseed, alcohol and being sticky.

Drunk Hoseok apparently makes the occasional good decision.

Once out, you manage to help him get a towel wrapped around his waist before he decides he wants to impale himself on his toothbrush. Brows rising as you watch him, you wonder if this is just general drunk Hoseok behaviour. He was a generally neat person normally but you don’t particularly remember anyone getting this drunk and demanding to be clean before bed.

Still though, you don’t want him to hurt himself so you carefully brush his teeth for him. And try not to notice the fact he’s giving you that sappy look once more. It’s not quite as cute when his mouth is full of toothpaste foam. Or maybe it’s even cuter given he’s evidently incapable of controlling his facial expressions.

After coaxing him to spit out what was in his mouth, and not swallow it like he’d almost seemed like he was going to, you finally get him to the bedroom where you make him sit on the bed. He does so pliantly, his lips pressed together in a content smile that makes his dimples show and causes him to look far younger and sweeter than the extensive tattoos on show do.

Brushing his hair for him, you press a kiss to his forehead before pointing at him with narrow eyes. “Stay here. Do not move. I’m going to get you a glass of water that I want you to drink and then we’ll dry you off and get you dressed, okay?”

His response is a nod, looking very much like a child with how eager it is and you snort in amusement before leaving to the kitchen. You’re probably gone a minute, if that, before heading back into the bathroom with a glass full of fresh water and pausing in the doorway at what you’re seeing.

Hoseok has not sat still like you’d told him. Instead, he’s stood up and is now completely naked. Only he apparently appears fascinated by the fact he has a penis and is too busy giggling to notice your arrival. 

Clearing your throat, you watch as he looks up with wide eyes. If you’d thought it was because he’d been caught doing...whatever he was doing, then you were wrong because instead he just gives you the brightest smile. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he proceeds to point down to his groin with excitement.

“Look! A helicopter!” And then he gyrates his hips until his dick swings in a circular motion, causing you to sigh so deeply that you’re not entirely sure if you haven’t just felt your soul leave your body. Taking a moment to yourself, you stare at the floor before looking up with a smile.

“That’s great Hoseok. Now please drink this while I get you dressed.” He pouts at your lack of reaction but you figure it’s probably the best route right now. Otherwise he might be encouraged by your laughter to do something even more silly. The last thing you need is for him to wake up having injured himself doing something stupid in your bedroom.

He takes the glass from you and begins to drink, the sound overly loud and exaggerated but you don’t question it as you make him lean against the wall, allowing you to get him into some boxers without him falling over and hurting himself. A shirt gets childish whines, apparently he’s too hot, but you finally get it on him and get him to sit back on the bed.

“I’m going to get you another glass. Please...just sit there, okay?” There’s no response this time and you wonder what he’s got upto this time when you head back to the bedroom, only to find silence greet you. 

Silence, because Hoseok has evidently decided it was time to sleep. He’d curled himself up under the covers, despite his insistence of being warm, on your side of the bed and appeared to be completely gone. Smiling fondly at him, you place the glass on the bedside table next to him before finding his phone from the jeans he’d thrown off in the bathroom and plugging it in to charge next to yours.

Thank god he’d taken these off before showering.

Going through your own nightly routine, you crawl into bed next to him on his side and sigh as his scent overwhelms you. Hoseok doesn’t move at all and you wonder how strong his hangover is going to be in the morning. Or if he’ll even remember anything that’s happened.

You’re definitely telling him about his dickcopter though. Chuckling to yourself finally at the memory, you shift forward till you can kiss his clothed shoulder fondly and get yourself into a more comfortable position.

His tattoos were never going to look intimidating ever again now.

[thewayshedreamed]

Fight or Flight— Nessian AU

This one-shot goes out to @bookstantrash 💕 

Thank you so much for the prompt— “I almost lost you.” for Nessian! Prompt is in bold within the post.

Warnings for strong language + mentions of combat and injury

——————————————————————————

Cassian fell into his office chair around 4:30 PM, the force rocking him back a little. He squinted his eyes and pinched his scrunched nose between his thumb and forefinger as he willed this Cauldron-foresaken day to end.

It had been a long day of strategy meetings, supplemental trainings, drills, and checkrides. He had a rather uncomfortable conversation with a cocky little shit of a pilot, who carried himself as if the other members of his flight were there to provide a backdrop for his greatness. Overall, his flight team was skilled, dedicated, and they treated him with so much respect that it surprised him at times. Not that he wasn’t deserving of that respect, having risen through the ranks with impressive speed since joining the military as an airman all those years ago.

According to his superior officers, he was one of the finest pilots for generations, and he had shown a natural ability for leadership as early as basic training. He was dedicated to being fair, set high standards for the members of his flight, and considered their input as frequently as he could. In return, they made his job somewhat easier by executing his orders flawlessly and in a timely manner. Most of the time, anyway.

The loud rumble in his stomach reminded him that he had skipped lunch. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, but he tried not to lament over small things considering they were at war. There was never enough time, and he’d adapted over the years to running on very little when necessary. He rubbed his eyes roughly with his palms, blinking against the light coming in from the window and looked to see what tasks remained for the day. Nothing that couldn’t wait for Monday.

He grabbed his jacket and aviator sunglasses as he stood, put them on, and walked out of his small office a little early.

“Would you like me to forward your calls, Captain Mortel?”

“You know me well, Nuala,” he said with quick wink. “You wouldn’t happen to know if Captain Spion is back, would you?”

”He’s gone for the day,” a deep voice called from several office spaces down the hall.

“Never mind. That answers my question,” he chuckled. “Have a good weekend.”

”You too, Captain,” she said with a small smile.

He walked the several paces down the hallway to Azriel’s office, hoping to drag him out early along with him. He leaned in the doorway, offering a small knock on the door jamb with his knuckle. Azriel looked up from his desk, leaned back, and ran his hands down his face.

“You look like you had the same day I had,” Cassian said through a laugh.

Azriel gave an ironic-sounding laugh in return. “Was your day a complete shit show? Because if so, you would be correct.”

”Almost makes me miss the days where all I had to worry about was my own plane and my checkrides,” he replied wistfully.

”Don’t pretend you worried about your scores. False humility doesn’t suit you.” Azriel stood from his desk to gather his things.

Cassian laughed, the sound echoing through the hallway. “I seem to remember you doing okay for yourself, too.”

It was true. They were almost terrifying as members of the same flight, and they regularly set the bar for the rest of the pilots. Both of them extended their help wherever the could, aiming to improve their fellow airmen’s performances in everything from confidence to specific maneuvers. When they’d each climbed the ranks to Captain, it was almost poetic that they became flight commanders within the same squadron.

They walked out of the building together, discussing where and when they were going to meet up to drown this day in whiskey. They decided they would meet at the bar after they both showered and ate dinner. Speaking of which, he realized he had almost nothing in his apartment for food. He decided to go by the commissary to grab a few things to cook, hoping that maybe he was early enough to get in and out quickly.

The gods had mercy on him, and he found himself standing in the short checkout line within minutes. He zoned out while he waited, his gaze fixed toward the commissary doors as he daydreamed. His thoughts were interrupted as a familiar head of golden brown hair entered his line of sight.

Nesta Archeron, a brilliant intelligence officer who he had the frequent pleasure of running into on base. His first encounters with her were short, mere introductions before she shared relevant information to his superior officers. He had served as a liaison as well, traveling to her building to make requests or gather information on behalf of his Commander.

They started to share pleasantries when they would run into each other, asking benign questions about each others’ days or commenting on things around base. She was stunning, her features elegant and soft. And those eyes. They seemed to cut through him like no one else’s ever had. He’d basically word-vomited the fact that she was beautiful one day and asked her out for dinner. She’d chuckled and tapped him on the top of his shoulder with a cupped hand before stating, “That’s not a good idea, Captain.” Then, she had just walked away.

Not that he had certain expectations, but he was always a little perturbed by her sheer indifference anytime they spoke. He hadn’t changed how he interacted with her after she shut him down, not wanting her to think his kindness hadn’t been genuine, but it wore on him that she never seemed to drop her mask of politeness. Quite honestly, he was used to people liking him pretty readily, his charm and warm demeanor immediately putting them at ease. Nesta Archeron was not most people, though. That was probably the reason, he mused, that he’d been thinking about her basically every godsdamned free minute he had in the day. She was an enigma, and he felt compelled to figure her out.

——————————————————————————

He was on his second whiskey, listening to the band that was playing and making idle conversation with Azriel. He noticed a group of women nearby who kept looking over at them, and a drink appeared in front of Az minutes later. He chuckled, leaning in to Azriel to taunt him a little, but the words died on his tongue.

Walking in across the bar was none other than Nesta. She was in a short-sleeved red dress that kicked out just a little at the waist, falling at her knees. Her hair was in a low chignon, curls pinned around her face and a delicate comb tucked in close to the bun. She was smiling, speaking to an incredibly petite woman with short, dark hair. He recognized her from the intelligence office; Amren, he believed.

His mouth dried up as his eyes trailed Nesta’s long legs, landing on the pair of black pumps she wore on her feet. He tried, and probably failed, to be subtle in looking at her, but the red lipstick that graced her lips was killing him. He was so jealous of that stupid fucking lipstick.

“You should go talk to her,” Azriel said. He jumped slightly, having almost forgotten he wasn’t alone. Not so subtle, obviously.

Cassian shook his head and cleared his throat. “I’m good. You don’t have to babysit, you know. I think you owe someone a ‘thank you’ dance for the drink,” he deflected.

Az gave him a small, sideways smile. He was almost bashful when this sort of thing happened to him, which was a lot, now that Cassian thought about it. His knew his eyes were already searching for Nesta against his will, and he decided that maybe he should give up trying to ignore her.

“Tell you what. You go say your thanks, and I’ll go ask Archeron to dance with me.”

”Easy for you to say. You know her already.”

”Exactly. Which means that I know I’ll likely get shut down. I’m doing this for you, brother.”

”How noble of you,” Azriel said, as he knocked back the rest of his whiskey and rose to his feet.

——————————————————————————

It took him a third whiskey and several more minutes to even consider standing up to find Nesta. He knew Azriel would never let him live it down if he didn’t go over there, but he took his time deciding if his pride would better survive Azriel’s eternal taunts or Nesta’s rejection.

You are a fucking pilot and flight commander who has to lead dozens of men every day. You can handle asking a woman to dance with you. Go talk to her, you idiot.

Turns out, his inner monologue was kind of a dick.

He rose to his feet, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. She was sitting at a table with Amren and several other women, a glass of neat whiskey in front of her. He felt that summed her up pretty readily; a glass of whiskey among glasses of sugary white wine.

Good thing he liked whiskey.

He mastered himself enough to walk over and silently cursed the short curls at the top of his head for falling against his brow. He didn’t like the look of a buzz cut, but he also didn’t love that the curls on the top of his head had a mind of their own most of the time. Her eyes fell to his as he approached, and she him offered a small smile.

“Captain Mortel. To what do I owe the pleasure outside of work hours?” she teased. Whiskey agreed with her, he thought. Her friends fell silent at their exchange, watching with rapt attention.

“Cassian, ma’am,” he corrected with a small smile. The formality of her address irritated him.

He looked around the table, offering a broad, genuine smile. “I apologize for interrupting, ladies. I have some critical information to share with Miss Archeron. That is, if you all are willing to spare her.” His eyes flitted to hers. She may have been immune to his charms, but it didn’t seem like that applied to her friends as they adamantly insisted they didn’t mind. They all but hauled her to her feet, Amren offering a subtle push at her lower back.

“Lead the way, Cassian.” The way she said his first name was so intentional that he wanted to roll his eyes, but he was distracted by his thoughts of other ways he’d like to hear her saying his name.

“I think it’s best discussed on the dance floor, Miss Archeron.” He had one arm bent behind him, resting on the small of his back, the other extended to her, palm up.

She took his hand heavily, showing him she knew exactly what he was up to. She followed nonetheless, and once they reached their destination, he gently placed her hand on his shoulder. He placed his large hand on her waist, and lifted the other in his as he lead them across the floor.

“Nesta,” she said, still looking over his shoulder.

“Pardon?”

”Call me Nesta.” Her steel blue eyes met is, and he swore he saw them soften a fraction. “So, what is so important that it couldn’t wait for Monday?”

“Ah. That. Well, truth be told, I didn’t have anything all that critical to tell you,” he paused, laughing softly when she looked at him with an expression that said, no shit.

”I hope you’ll forgive me. It just didn’t seem suitable to wait for Monday to tell you how devastating you look tonight. It’s hardly appropriate workplace conversation.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” There was no irritation in her voice, nor did she move away from him.

“So I’ve been told.”

He pulled her a fraction closer, and she let him.

——————————————————————————

They’d swayed together for song after song that night, taking short breaks at a small take next to the dance floor. They were talking about anything and everything, their laughter carrying through the small venue when there was a break between songs. At some point, they had started sharing one glass of whiskey rather than opting for two.

Cassian knew he was totally and royally fucked.

He walked her out later that night when her group of friends started to tire out. He stopped just outside the doors, and her friends walked slowly ahead, allowing them some privacy. He curled his index finger under her chin, and eased her face upward to look at him. His other arm was secure behind his back; the only place he trusted it to be.

”I had a lot of fun. Be careful going home, yeah?” He kept his voice soft, not wanting to risk her becoming shy at the thought of her friends overhearing them.

She bit her bottom lip as she looked at him, giving him a small nod.

“I had fun, too,” she breathed. The corners of her lips drew up slightly, retrained by the secure pressure her teeth had on her lower lip yet again. She might have been the death of him.

Before he could think better of it, he raised his thumb to stroke her cheek and had to clench his other fist when she leaned into his hand to keep from pulling her to him. He swallowed thickly, hoping his voice would come out more stable than he felt.

“Goodnight, Nesta.”

”Goodnight, Cassian.” She turned her face, placing a soft kiss to the tender part of his palm at the base of his thumb before she turned to leave.

She left him standing there, dumbfounded and grinning like a fool. He looked down at his palm, the soft lip print left by her red lips, and closed his fist before he walked inside to find Azriel.

——————————————————————————

In the days that followed, nothing changed. He remained insanely busy each day and saw Nesta minimally. He wished there were more reasons for him to travel to her office and visa versa, but he had likely exhausted his fill of luck on that Friday night.

His world turned on its head on Wednesday as the alarm sounded. There were no scheduled drills that he was aware of, and his heart leapt into his throat. He saw Azriel running into the hangar from another direction, his eyes locking on Cassian’s. They approached each other, their postures already morphing into the leaders they were called to be. It was Azriel who spoke first.

“Incoming air attack. Just got word from the Commander.”

”Shit. Okay. Let’s fucking do this, huh?” He was trying to keep his tone light enough without downplaying the magnitude of their situation.

“Not like we have much of a choice. Stay safe, brother.” He gripped Cassian in a hug, patting him roughly on the back. Cassian returned it quickly and broke away.

“Stop saying your goodbyes, Spion,” he said as he broke into a backward jog toward his flight team. He raised his voice to finish, “They chose the wrong fucking base!”

——————————————————————————

Cassian awoke to a blinding pain in his head and a high-pitched beeping sound coming from his left. He kept his eyes firmly shut, trying for the life of him to figure out where he was and why he was in so much pain. He creased his brow as he concentrated, only able to conjure snapshots of the events that led him here.

Take off.

Giving orders to his flight team.

Circling back for an aircraft in pursuit of one of his airmen.

Shots fired, bullets flying. Explosions as they met their mark.

Another loud explosion, an aggressive shift of his plane.

Losing an engine.

Bailing out.

Everything was blank after that, until right now, where that obnoxious fucking beeping was going to make him violent. If he was dead, he was surely in hell.

He opened his eyes, squinting against the faint light overhead. He turned his head slowly, fighting a groan at the pain that shot through his temples. His mouth was dry as shit, and he needed to find some water stat.

His eyes snagged on something foreign next to his hand. He lowered his chin to look at it properly, and as his eyes adjusted, he realized he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t a something, it was a someone.

That same damn head of golden brown hair that had been haunting him for months was on the edge of the mattress, resting on her bent arm. She was sitting in a chair, bent over to rest her head on his bed, and her other arm was extended, resting just above his knee. Her face was softer while she slept, he thought. He looked at her for a few seconds, not wanting to disturb her slumber, and realized he couldn’t give a shit less about that beeping sound all of a sudden. Nesta fucking Archeron was here.

Okay, so definitely not in hell, then.

He looked down, realizing his chest was bare save for the rolls of gauze and bandages wrapped around him. He had no clue what that was about, but he figured someone would tell him eventually. He noticed bruises and scrapes on almost every exposed part of his body and a cast on his right ankle. As far as he could tell, he still had all of his limbs and could wiggle his toes. He decided he was grateful, even if everything hurt like fuck.

His movements must have roused her, because Nesta’s eyes suddenly opened. She sat up and rubbed them before turning them to Cassian in assessment. She started at his legs, running her gaze over him, and over to his monitor. Her eyes snapped to his own once she realized he was awake.

”You’re awake!” The relief in her voice broke his heart. She gripped his hand with both of hers, careful not to disturb him too much.

”Yeah,” he croaked, his voice ragged from disuse. She pulled one of her hands away, grabbed the small styrofoam cup on the side table, and handed it to him. He grabbed it with his opposite hand, cringing a little at the pain in his chest as he reached across his body. He brought the cup to his lips, leaving his eyes on hers as he sipped. She took it from him as he lowered his head back down to his pillow.

“Your parachute deployed, but it got tangled while you were still in the air. Luckily it eventually opened, but you were already fairly close to the ground. Your ankle is broken and you have several broken ribs. They aren’t sure what you hit, but you sustained impact to your head at some point. Be careful if you touch your face... there are some stitches on your forehead and through your eyebrow.” He honestly would have been okay with a few more injuries on the list if it meant she would keep talking to him like this; with a gentleness and care he had never seen. He rolled his head toward her to look at her properly, and noticed tears running down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’ll take a lot more than that to keep me from sticking around and annoying the hell out of you,” he joked.

“That’s not funny, Cassian!” She clutched his hand in warning. “I listened to the radio all day. I found out through communications that your plane went down.” Her tears were rolling in earnest now.

He was such an ass. Why the hell did he insist on putting his foot in his mouth?

”I’m sorry. Really, Nesta, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I’m okay.” He squeezed her hand, wishing he could pull her into his chest to comfort her.

Her tears continued despite his request. “I didn’t know what to do, what to think. I couldn’t get clear answers from anyone about your status for hours. It was a nightmare, and for a second, I thought.... I don’t know. Worst case scenario, is what I thought. I almost lost you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of what she was telling him. He started rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm before he spoke.

“I’m not going anywhe—“ He was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit, all thanks to his dry fucking throat. Beautiful timing. Excellent. Perfect.

He groaned between coughs as he felt the sudden pain wrack through his ribs. It was as if someone was taking each one and snapping them over their knee like small tree branches. He couldn’t get his throat to cooperate, sending his chest into contraction after contraction. He started clutching for his chest, grimacing, and trying to do anything possible to calm his reflexes down.

Nesta jumped from her chair, perching on the edge of his bed. She gripped his face gently with her hands, willing him to look at her. Once he did, she encouraged him to relax, and grabbed his water cup to hold it to his lips. He managed to hold back his cough long enough to take a couple of sips, and he was finally able to relax into the bed again, breathing through clenched teeth.

She brushed his curly hair to the side in a soothing gesture, trying to tame the wild strands somewhat in the process. She spoke to him in a soothing voice, hoping to keep him as calm as he could manage.

“You have beautiful hair. I know women who would kill for it,” she mused.

He huffed a laugh. “Has a mind of its own.”

”Seems true to form, considering the head it grows from.” She laughed when he glared at her. “I’m serious. You should grow it out one day. Just to see its potential.”

”Mmm... I’ll think about it. I think I could try it out for you,” he replied with a smile.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before it occurred to him that the clock read 3:00, and there was no light coming through the window. It was 3AM, and here she was.

”I’m surprised they haven’t kicked you out yet with how late it is.... Not that I’m complaining. I want you to stay.” He hoped he hadn’t offended her, but the look on her face showed only amusement. “How’d you manage that?”

She bit her lip in a sheepish gesture, and he had to fight the urge to reach up and release it with his thumb.“When I found out they had located you and were in transport, I ran here immediately. I didn’t have much of a plan. I’m sure I looked like a lunatic to the young nurse’s aid at the station. I asked for you, but she told me that only family could see you,” she trailed off, looking down at the bedsheets. “I was all over the place, and I just blurted it out... that I was your wife.”

His eyes had to be the size of saucers. They were fairly familiar with each other through their work, and they’d had that one perfect night at the bar. But he’d never kissed her, nor had he brought her out on an actual date. She was the one who had turned him down, for Cauldron’s sake.

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle at her words or the blush that fanned across her cheeks.

“How long was I out? We seem to have come a long way,” he teased, hoping to ease her nerves.

”Oh, shut up. To be fair, I have to think on my feet a lot with what I do, and it kind of took me over. I was apparently quite convincing.”

”Didn’t even court me properly,” he mumbled in mock offense, grinning as he shook his head. He promptly stopped when he remembered the headache.

“Alright. You’re hilarious,” she stated dryly. Her voice quieted a bit more as she said, “I know I overstepped. I just wanted you to be okay, and I couldn’t stand not knowing. I’m really sorry.”

”It’s okay, really. You were the perfect thing to wake up to in here. Thank you,” he replied. “I’m honestly just surprised no one fact-checked you.”

”Once I was in here, they kind of just ignored me except for updates. I’ve gotten lucky that no one that would know better has been in here. Well, except Captain Spion, but he’s keeping my secret. He’ll be happy to know you’re okay. He’s been pacing around in here anytime he’s had a free moment and scaring the shit out of all the hospital staff.” She laughed, and he didn’t think he could ever hear enough of it.

“Sounds like Az. I’ll check in tomorrow,” he said. “But hey, before I forget, since we’re married anyway... would you be interested in going out sometime?” He hoped he hadn’t misread this shift between them, but he couldn’t let her leave here without asking.

She sat there for several agonizing seconds before leaning forward and pressing her lips softly to his. When she pulled back, her blue eyes were shining as she said, “Absolutely. I love that idea.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: I enjoyed writing a little fluff after that angsty multi-chapter. 😂 Let me know what y’all think! 

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, shoot me an ask, comment, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you! My tags have been acting up, but I’ve been emailing Tumblr about it. Hopefully that’s not a long-term issue. A girl can dream, right?

Tags (Masterlist):

@polireader// @justgiu12 // @hizqueen4life // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @bookstantrash​

[reaperlight]

Do you have any lawryght headcanons?

@greenpactbosmer Thanks for the ask!

Headcanons... ooh boy, well...

(Oh and I saw you had another ask there too but I think I may have misunderstood the prompt/what was being asked? In any case I should probablt edit the paragraphs of brain vomit that came out of that but until then here's more paragraphs of brain vomit, uh... sorry 😔)

Anyway...

Headcanons for lawryght can vary greatly from fic verse to fic verse but let's see curtent HC generally...

These three getting together in a canon-like universe...

The RyukxLight will either be established relationship or at the very least Ryuk is more helpful to Light and his plans than in canon to the point Light feels secure enough in his position so he can give L a chance and not feel like he has to kill him immediately so a relationship could actually develop between Light and L beyond "oh no, he's hot... I still have to kill him." (Also expect Light to be even more arrogant and insufferable because he thinks he's immortal and has the power of deathgod and anime on his side.)

Ryuk and Light getting together: And then they were roommates (oh my they were roommates) and there was only one bed--Shinigami don't really need to sleep but Light doesn't know that and the bed is comfy so Ryuk doesn't fell the need to tell him.

They are both extremely bored. Ryuk is absolutely fascinated with this human--he may not be on Light's side (or so he claims) but the entertainment value is beyond his wildest dreams. He is smitten, even if he doesn't admit it. If Light is curious about something hell try at least once... Or Light may be trying to get free Shinigami eyes out of him and they catch feelings.

L enters the picture... Ryuk doesn't mind sharing 1. Hes immortal and bored and... two interesting humans! This is so cool! 2. Shinigami don't have the same ideas about monogamy. 3. Headcanons about Ryuk vary depending on if rule 36 valid up to this point in the ficverse. (I.e. Chad!Ryuk vs. Virgin!Ryuk)

L and Ryuk--L is very disturbed to learn that his case actually has a supernatural component and is more leery of Ryuk than of Light at first. This lasts for all of the moment it takes to remember that Light is Kira and Ryuk is afraid of tennis balls.

After 5 minutes of soul searching, L can admit to himself he has a thing for monsters--both internal and external.

Assuming they are all alive and this takes place in early canon this shippable version of L is probably more interested in having fun then bringing Kira to justice. Either that or he has become disillusioned with the status quo or hurt and and wants revenge to the point that he's willing to entertain Light's way of doing things.

If its post series, maybe Ryuk is bored so goes looking for Light in Mu and ends up pulling both Light and L out of Mu because their souls are intertwined and once restored as humans or Shinigami or something shippable in the afterlife then it's just learning to rely on each other as they forge a new arrangement in the Shinigami realm.

Top/bottom it's not assigned seating Regardless of bedroom positions or what arrangement they have out of the bedroom Light is the dom/one in charge of this arrangement in bed... but subs L and Ryuk unionize and gang up on him. Light is a dom in bed but not always a top. L as a sub but not always bottom. Ryuk as a service top or power bottom. Ryuk doesn't really feel pain like humans do and will go with whatever he and his partners find interesting.

Contrary to rumor Light and L aren't always fighting over who gets to top. Fighting is for chess matches, clashes of ideology, and the last chocolate eclaire--not the bedroom. Consent, safe words, and mutual respect are all very important.

(The safe word is vegetables)

Light is very dom. In every relationship before or since. Except there's Ryuk, looming over him. Making him feel kinda excited and confused and then theres that stupid sexy voice of his... But ryuk is the exception. (But he might let L fuck him if he asks nicely and submits to Kira's reign.)

When they sleep together Ryuk likes to keep them both wrapped in his wings. He likes being the little spoon sometimes though...

L gets Ryuk addicted to apple desserts.

Light frequently ends up cleaning up after the other two. Ryuk helps when he remembers but typically L is a brat.

Light: How can you stand to live like this?

Ryuk: I was formed in a dustbowl.

Light: Yes, it shows.

L [throwing candy wrappers on the ground]: Why are you doing that, that's what Watari is for?

Others who might potentially join the polycule under the right set of circumstances: B, Mikami, Aiber, Matsuda...

Some very noncanon AU ideas...

Superhero aus (current wips)

Winning and ruling the world(s) au (current wips)

Light gets in trouble (of either a mundane or supernatural variety) and Ryuk goes to L to ask for his help because he's the only human he can think of who would be clever enough to help Light and because of supernatural restrictions Ryuk can't save Light by himself. L is annoyed to have his fun ruined by having it confirmed that Light is Kira in this way, pissed that Light could get himself into a situation like this, and also pissed at himself that Ryuk doesn't even need to threaten him to want to risk everything to save him. After they save Light, L decides there's no point in continuing the kira case because it no longer interests him. He returns INTERPOLs money and after Light recovers from his ordeal the three go on vacation looking for something interesting but less hazardous than their previous ordeal. L becomes fascinated with the supernatural and wants to go ghost and cryptid hunting, seeking out ancient mysteries and Ryuk has plenty of leads in that. Light is still more interested in becoming god of the new world but "fine, if you guys insist..." (he doesn't want to admit he's having fun too). They drive around in L's pink crepe van huntjng ghosts, solving mysteries. Light occasionally writes the names of murderous jerks and people who are assholes to L thst they meet along the way while Ryuk laughs and L scowls in a mildly disapproving way but never really discourages him.

Au inverting the dynamics so its established relationship of lawlight first and then Ryuk joins the polycule: AU where Light and L are the same age and are childhood friends and when Light finds the Death Note they become Kira together. Ryuk is fascinated by them both and slowburn they realize their feelings for each other.

Or... Human!Ryuk and mundane college AU Ryuk is in a metal band and is probably studying art and helps rival law students Ligtt and L to chill... at least until Ryuk gets in trouble for drug possession and then Light and L compete to be his better defense counsel.

Monster AU werewolf or vampire au that's canon adjacent--Ryuk bites Light, Light goes on to monster better than Ryuk does then Light bites L, the monster hunter who falls for him...

7. Haunted house au

8. The quarantine au--Light is annoyed because now killing as Kira feels rather pointless. L is annoyed because this is boring. Ryuk is having a blast because they're playing with him a whole lot more. If L and Light doesn't just use the L screen, Ryuk is always in the background, having floating, juggling apples photobomb the zoom calls.

And suddenly Ryuk is important.

Ryuk runs errand for them because he has no danger of catching the plague. They play video games, watch movies, bitch at each other, and get into pointless arguments over stupid things.

Also L makes them custom masks modeled after Ryuk's fangs just because.

Other ideas:

Wammys house and lawryght

Option 1: Wammy's house tooth rotting fluff, adopting all the orphans

Option 2: Wammy's house evil, B was right. It's really just about being raised as a weapon. It's like the stormtrooper program for genius orphans that may not have actually been orphans before the institute took an interest in them.

Option 3: Wammy's house complicated. The institute really is trying to do better, is the best place for the kids and while not perfect its closest thing to home/family they have.

Lawryght and Morality

These 3 can be awful enablers of each other's worst qualities. Then again...

Light: Huh, Ryuk thinks we're going too far. Maybe we should rethink this.

L [already has the prisoner tied up and being forced to listen to polka music on repeat]: But where's the fun in that?

Finding a home together

With Kira and a Shinigami as his boyfriend L feels secure enough to do more normal things he's been denied all his life.

With Ryuks help, Light finds the names of all of L's major enemies and gets to writing in the Death Note.

Light: Be mad if you want. I'm not sorry.

L tries to be mad, and fails. He can't help but feel relieved that they're gone.

He might even entertain the thought of having a permanent address.

He still enjoys traveling though.

Also L gets a kitten

The cat loves chasing Ryuk's feathers.

The cat likes Light's lap the best because Light went out of his way not to look at the cat.

....

Ah, that was probably way too long. But thanks for letting me ramble! 😆

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Partners in Crime

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment over on Ao3!

Just a silly little scenario I had rattling around in my head! Huge thanks to @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short for always being amazing betas!

tw: mentions of drinking, hangovers

Juno Steel opened his eye and immediately wanted to strangle the person who had designed this hotel room. Any interior decorator who knew they were putting together a hotel room in Nueva Vegas, the prime place on Neptune where people went to get blackout drunk and collect the finest hangover symptoms in the galaxy, yet still insisted on neon wallpaper deserved death.

He inhaled, feeling an ache in his ribs that came from too much raucous laughter and tasting stale alcohol, taking a mental catalogue of his body as his nerves came back online. His eyelashes felt heavy with mascara that had curdled overnight, his throat felt rough with overuse, his stomach only had a slight roil to it, a sea on a choppy day rather than in the middle of a storm. He was wearing the pyjama bottoms he’d actually packed but he couldn’t speak for the shirt- his top half was still wearing last night’s spangled bralet.

And he had Nureyev’s arm thrown bonelessly over his chest, his sharp chin digging a little painfully into his shoulder, his soft snores in one ear and his dark flyaways ticking his nose. His breath smelled pretty strongly of gin but Juno could put up with that, he wasn’t one to throw stones.

Overall, Juno Steel had suffered far worse mornings. In fact, this one would probably still make it into the top twenty.

Smiling, he gently nudged Nureyev to one side, making sure he fell back against the lavish pillows and settled again before sliding out from under the silky sheets. The hotel room’s crisp air conditioning raised goosebumps across his skin as he padded across the room, stockinged feet sinking considerably into the thick, bright pink carpets. They really had made an ungodly mess of one of the most expensive hotel rooms on Neptune, he was pretty impressed with just how many empty plastic glasses, dregs of champagne clinging to their sides, were scattered around the hot tub, just how much glitter had shed from their clothes onto the floor, the probably very incriminating blueprints and files and notes that were scattered like confetti. Not incriminating for the job they’d just pulled off, of course, just several they were considering in the future.

There was no sign of the rest of their family, no Rita singing almost incomprehensible karaoke into a can of chips, no Jet sitting in a chair by the window with his arms folded and head nodding as he slept like an old dad though a whisper of any threat would snap him up and ready. No Buddy and Vespa slow dancing to music only they seemed able to hear while the neon flashes from the signs outside the window bathed them in candy coloured light.

They must have staggered back to their own rooms, just before the celebrations of a job well done would have wound down into a sleepover. Juno frowned as he scratched tiredly at where his hair was matted down, trying to remember. Buddy’s usual habit of making them all drink as much water before bed as she could had saved him from vomiting and a splitting head but memories were still fuzzy. Very fuzzy actually, now he tried to grab hold of them. No wonder his tongue tasted of about half the bottles behind the bar and his bladder felt fit to burst.

By the time he’d gone into the bathroom, wincing at the colour of lime green it had all been done up in, and dealt with that problem he could hear Nureyev stirring.

Coming back into the room, now dressed a little more appropriately in a soft bathrobe, he saw him stretching like a cat, his own wince playing across his sleepy face.

“Good morning,” he rasped, “Feeling rough too, huh?”

“Fairly,” Nureyev croaked, not making it very far before slumping back against the pillows, “What time did Buddy say we had to be back on board?”

“Not till three. It’s only eleven right now.”

“Ugh...I might not make it.”

Juno snorted, rolling his eye, “God, you’re such a lightweight, you whine so much when you’re hungover. Look, I’ll pack the bags, you focus on getting your shoes on. I think one of them’s in the hot tub.”

Nureyev groaned, bringing his hands up to bury his face in them as Juno pulled the curtains wide and flooded the room with pale sunlight. So little actual sunlight could reach this distant gas giant, what fell across Nureyev’s face was actually simulated from a massive rig of translucent spotlights that covered the city much like Mars’ domes. Rita had told him all about it around their third glasses of champagne, before her speech started collapsing into inhuman giggles and nonesene and his memories got cloudy.

He certainly couldn’t remember quite how they’d gotten the room into such a state. It hadn’t even really been that big of a job, a fairly run of the mill casino heist to fund some bigger projects that Buddy had percolating in her brain. But, from the lingering carnage of their celebration, you’d think they’d stolen a goddamn planet rather than a few measly hundred thousands of creds.

And there was a lot of confetti. All over the damn place, where had that all come from?

“Babe?” Juno frowned as he started pulling their papers together, “Do you remember much about last night?”

Nureyev gave a sleep mumble and Juno heard the sound of the silken sheets running over each other as he turned, “I remember us pulling off a job so seamless it deserves to be in some kind of textbook on thieving. I remember everyone coming into our room. I remember Buddy ordering champagne...and that’s it.”

Juno suppressed a snort of amusement. He was sure if it was his husband’s small frame or his lack of experience with the stuff but about two swallows of anything alcoholic had him absolutely useless. Adorable but useless.

“Just seems like we really tore it up for some reason,” Juno shrugged as he moved further along, now gathering up scraps of their disguises- the velour blazer he’d been wearing over that bralet, the other one of Nureyev’s stiletto heels, a diamond ring he couldn’t remember which one of them had worn.

He paused, something about that ring making him stop. It was lying in the midst of some other jewels he’d been wearing yesterday in his role as a ridiculously wealthy outer rim socialite. So it must have been his, he didn’t exactly need his years of experience as a detective to realise that. So why didn’t he remember it? Why did it look so brand new, so out of place with everything else lying in that modest dragon’s horde of luxury?

“My love?”

Juno turned, taking the ring with him, “Yeah?”

Nureyev was still lying in bed, though he was holding his left hand a little ways from his face, frowning curiously up at it as he turned it this way and that. As he watched the fake morning sun catch in the gem on a ring that sat there, a ring identical to the one Juno held.

“Did...did we get married?” Nureyev said slowly, an expression on his face not dissimilar to the one he wore when he was doing one of the many puzzle boxes Juno got him as gifts, after he’d realised a year ago that he loved them.

“Yes, about a year and a half ago. You were there, remember?”

Nureyev shot him a look across the room, “I mean last night, my love.”

Juno sucked in a long, slow breath before answering, throwing the ring up in the air and catching it, “Yeah, that would really explain a lot, huh?”

They caught each other’s eye then and after that there was nothing they could do but laugh, hard and helpless until Juno was having to brace himself on his knees to stay upright and Nureyev was curled on one side and trembling.

Once he could see and breathe clearly again, Juno found it, lying amongst a sheaf of floor plans for the casino they’d robbed yesterday. A wedding certificate, one corner of it crinkled and soaked where some spilled champagne had caught it, a little rumbled from being shoved into the pocket of a velour blazer on the car ride back to the hotel but fairly unmistakeable. The signatures were certainly theirs, even if the names weren’t.

“Yep,” Juno’s face still ached from grinning as he climbed back into bed next to his husband-twice-over, “Apparently once Rigel Fortescue and Jack Antares were done being complete strangers while the Orion’s Palace Casino had half it’s funds drained, they went off and got married.”

“Congratulations to us, I suppose,” Nureyev wiped his streaming eyes, giggles still pressing up against his words, “Oh god help us, is there any way we can keep this from the rest of the crew?”

“Well, looks like they all signed as our witnesses so I don’t think that’s an option, babe,” Juno snorted, showing him the band of signatures clustered along the bottom of the certificate, each one a ridiculous pseudonym but the handwriting was all familiar, even with how drunk their friends had clearly been.

Nureyev gave a groan of dismay that he didn’t really seem to feel, cuddling up against Juno, “Does this make us a little trashy?”

“Yeah well, you knew who I was when you married me,” Juno nudged him teasingly, “Both times.”

“Hush!” Nureyev kissed his shoulder, moving slightly so he could hitch one leg over Juno’s hip. He was still wearing his suit trousers from last night, Juno noticed, if last night really had been their wedding night then they’d neglected a pretty significant part of it.

So he turned to meet Nureyev’s body with his own, wrapping an arm around his slim waist to close what little gap there still was between them, “Maybe this could be our thing? We wear a new name pretty much every week anyhow, why don’t we get married as many times as we feel like? I know personally I’d be willing to go...well, at least another three times. Maybe four, for the money.”

He felt a light nip through the shoulder of the robe as Nureyev admonished him with his teeth. Though his hands were saying something different as they slid down Juno’s back, squeezing lightly.

“I suppose it could be quite a fun tradition…” he murmured softly, “But I would like to remember the next one. Perhaps a beach wedding on Saturn…”

Juno grinned and kissed the top of his head, “Whatever you want, babe. I’ll make sure the next one is perfect.”

“Our first one already was. But there were parts of my moodboards I didn’t get to use…”

Juno nudged him lightly until he was on his back, starting to kiss his way down his neck, tasting his perfume on his lips, “And?”

“And I love you,” Nureyev amended, smiling as innocently as someone very obviously moving his wife’s legs apart with his own could, “And marrying you a thousand times wouldn’t be enough to show you how much.”

“I love you too,” Juno murmured against his collarbone, “Happy honeymoon, baby.”

And, as much of a surprise as it had been, as much as their heads still ached and they could still taste cocktails on each other’s tongues, as much as they had a ship to catch in a few hours, it was. It really, really was.