#they absolutely have a little beanbag off in the corner that they sit in all the time

[sage-is-in-fact-very-tired]

sage now officially has a little guy?? real??

[euphoricfilter]

For the drabble game could you write fluff with youtuber bf jk ? I am not creative so I couldn’t think of a sentence sorry😭 but maybe he does one of those 24hr streams, I love your writing!

youtuber boyfriend! kook headcanons:

tags/ warnings: none. just a lot of fluff and feelings <3

notes: when i got sent this idea ages ago i got so excited. and i wrote three fics for it but hated them all and then made sure they were to never see the light of day. so my solution is to write some cute boyfriend headcanons instead to make up for it!! simply because i absolutely love this idea and i need to write anything for it to sate the need within me.

notes 2: this got slightly longer than i’d intended LMAO sorry 🕺

𓇻 i feel like jungkook’s channel has a plethora of videos, though he specializes in gaming.

𓇻 its probably one of his biggest passions. though i do see him dabbling in commentary, or even review type videos. maybe he’s a bit of a collector as well and goes on hour long rants about rare items or hauls of what he purchased over the years.

𓇻 i see the both of you probably meeting at one of those second-hand game and film stores.

𓇻 maybe you’re just milling around. more content to browse the movies than the games because you only own an old console (something cute like a nintendo DS) but they don’t really sell the game cards commercially anymore

𓇻 and jungkook loses track of why he was even there in the first place when he spots you. slowly scooting towards the corner you’re in.

𓇻 jungkook might not exactly believe in love at first sight, finds it a little hard to imagine loving someone so soon. but he definitely believes in destiny, even fate. and some small part of his mind had convinced him that surely this was just that.

𓇻 he’d be a bit shy about trying to approach you, mouth opening only for nothing to come out because what was he supposed to say? and maybe he accidentally startles you, offering to pay for the few dvds you had hugged to your chest as a lame sort of compensation

𓇻 he’d be the one to ask for your number, he’d be the first to text. you’d tell him later on it’s because you didn’t want to come off too head-strong. worried you’d scare him off messaging only hours after meeting. and then he’d tell you he had worried about the same thing

𓇻 jungkook wouldn’t straight out tell his audience he’d gotten into a relationship. it’s not that he was embarrassed about you, quite the opposite; he’d love to flaunt you to the world. it’s just he’d worry about the reaction from fans.

𓇻 he’d have a pretty hefty audience, a well established one even. and he wasn’t blind to the mean comments that would occasionally show up beneath videos or social media posts. he, himself, never found much issue in dealing with them, on occasion he’d get a little down but he knew that really he put himself up for this. he chose to show his face online, and with that would come some backlash. however, that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about you or how shitty comments would effect your well being.

𓇻 definitely the “in a relationship but it’s private” sort of photos would slowly creep their way onto his IG posts. maybe of little date nights— candles on the table with a dinner you’d cooked together (2 glasses, 2 plates and 2 sets of cutlery), or your favorite cake he’d tried to bake himself with the lego flowers he’d spent the previous evening trying to make (because at least you could look at the lego ones forever and they wouldn’t die). or maybe even your hand snuck in a photo or simply your silhouette beneath a sunset.

𓇻 maybe a few of your own collectible items had made their way onto the shelf in his studio. an obvious beanbag in the corner (you’d often sit there and read as he went through emails or scripted videos). valentines cards that he’d never thought to take down, or posters of yours that never exactly fit in the bedroom

𓇻 it would become apparent that he was in a long-term relationship when he’d film a moving video. so much of your stuff mingled with his own, split seconds of the shared rooms he’d add to the video before showing his audience his new office space. the extra shoes and cute little additions to his home; soft cushions on the couch, ceramics you’d begged him to buy. your hoard of plushies that took up half the bed or the stupid amount of skin care products stacked up in the bathroom. all a sure way of telling his fans that he was serious about you, even if they had no idea of your name or face

𓇻 maybe with enough comments he’d make a little announcement at the end of a video.

𓇻 “i know you’ve all probably guessed by now, but i am in fact, in a relationship”

𓇻 and then proceeded to talk about you for 7 minutes because really he wanted everyone to know how much he loved you. and truthfully he never knew when to shut up when it came to you, not when you were what’s on his mind most of the time. he’d tell them how you’d met, and how he had been absolutely enamored by you almost instantly. he’d show everyone the matching bracelets you’d made. grinning as he showed off the receipt he’d kept in his wallet from your first date together at a small cafe in town, mentioning how he kept a baby photo of you in the back of his phone too.

𓇻 the first time you’d show up in a video, he’d plan for the both of you to do some crafts together one afternoon. a hobby you’d been trying over the last couple of weeks, and jungkook liked to indulge you. loved to watch you sprawled across the floor of an evening with glue coating your fingers and way too much glitter imbedded in the carpet.

𓇻 he’d have been worried at first. asking you over and over if it was truly okay for you to be on camera, and after your reassured him with a kiss, he’d settle down slightly. though his anxiety had still clung to him, eyes flitting your way throughout the afternoon

𓇻 he could tell how shy you’d been, and had reassured you that really you didn’t even need to address the audience. he’d do all the silly little things you giggled at him for. and all you had to do was sit there and be pretty for him. you’d been a lot quieter than usual; itching to give him a kiss each time he was just so awfully jungkook. eyes like those of galaxies when he got something right, or the happiest smile on his face when you asked him for help

𓇻 the day he did a 24 hour charity stream would be when his audience sees you the most. milling around the house, making sure your boyfriend was fed and watered. maybe even sitting down and reading the chat when he wanted to shower. or answering questions while perched on his lap. he’d want to smother you with even more love when you’d catch his eye— a silent question if you were doing okay, that you answered all the questions correct. and he’d squeeze your thigh in reassurance, head resting over your shoulder as he listened to your voice, humming to let you know he was still listening

𓇻 you’d startle him at 4am, a little pouty that you’d had to fall asleep alone. dragging a chair from the kitchen to sit on as you watch him play a game you’d never seen before.

𓇻 “go back to bed, baby” he’d coo, “you’ll fall asleep sitting up and get a bad back”

𓇻 and maybe after that he’s a lot more open to showing you on camera. filming you on beaches, eating cakes and ice creams from a million different restaurants or dancing around hotel rooms or sitting on the balcony with the sun warming your skin when he takes you on holiday. short films dedicated to you with your favorite songs playing in the background

𓇻 maybe he even makes a playlist on his youtube channel, titled “my love” for every video that he includes you in

𓇻 idk just very much in love boyfriend kook who wants the world to love you almost as much as he does (because in all honesty, no one would ever love you more than he does)

[babybammargera]

Just woke up again so yet another jackass dream I had. More detailed this time bc I immediately wrote it down as soon as I woke up.

I'm sitting on the floor of what I assume is Bam's bedroom with his head in my lap and Dunn is flopped in a huge beanbag in the corner. Bam's pretty banged up and irritated bc he had been practicing a new skate trick and right as he had almost gotten it down it started pouring rain and he fell. Hard. Some cheesy horror movie is playing on the tv but none of us are actually watching it. I look down at him as I play with his hair, "you okay?” he sighs and throws his hands up, "no. I have a headache and my elbow and ankle both hurt. I just wanna lay here and watch shitty slasher movies." I roll my eyes and scoot out from under him, "how about I get you some Tylenol and we all get comfy and watch a movie?" He gets up and peels his wet clothes off (and being the messy manchild he is just leaves his wet clothes on the floor) replacing them with PJ pants and a random long-sleeved cky shirt then throws himself in bed. I grab the Tylenol for Bam as Dunn jumps into bed next to him. I change into some of Bam's sweatpants and one of his few clean shirts then climb into the bed next to him. After he stops whining and takes the meds we all watched some movie Dunn picked and Bam ended up falling asleep on my chest. And Dunn somehow rolled off the bed then I woke up lol.

Sorry if this seemed fan-fic vibe that's just how I write. But like I said I've been having very vivid dreams about Bam and Dunn.

My dumb little absolutely adorable dream invaders.

[tommyspeakycap]

Painted Roses

jordan henderson x reader

word count - 2k I think

jordan takes you back to the place it all began as you expand your life together.

second part to Rose Garden

4 years to the date.

The country house with the long gravel road that lead up to the huge red brick cottage. The owner passed away over a year ago and their family, to Jordan’s utter shock, weren’t interested in maintaining the beautiful home as the wedding venue it had existed as in the past. The second he heard it was up for sale, he placed an offer and had the keys in the space of two weeks.

“Jordan where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He promises, giving your hand a gentle squeeze where it sat on top of your knee. The blindfold is making you sweat more than you already were. “I can’t see anything.” You note pointedly with a roll of your eyes behind the blindfold. Jordan chuckles heartily with what you can imagine in your mind is his signature smile, all white teeth and crinkled eyes. “You’ll love it,” he says through that smile, “I promise.” His hand pats your knee again as a silence falls between you.

Gravel crunches beneath the wheels of his fancy black Mercedes as the smell of cut grass and fresh flowers enters your nose and makes you grin subconsciously in a way you barely even notice. Jordan catches sight of that out the corner of his eye and his heart grows with joy in his chest. The slow, careful turn of his car, paired with the sound of his hands sliding along the leather of the wheel alert you to his parking. He does so with ease and you hear the keys jangling as he shuts off the engine.

“Wait here,” he instructs, climbing out his side with the door thrown shut behind him. He’s round at your side of the car before you have a chance to think up a cheeky retort. He’s gentle as he always is when he helps you out of the car carefully, wrapping one arm around your waist so you don’t fall. Admittedly, it doesn’t work very well because the ground beneath is so incredibly uneven, so when he gets to that first smooth grey cement step, he opts to simply scoop you up into his arms with ease.

“Okay,” he begins, placing you down as you feel the smooth material covering your eyes loosening and slipping from your face. His hands replace it for only a moment as he presses a kiss to the side of your head from behind you. “Open.”

You do as told and tears spring in place of his hands to blur your vision.

It’s beautiful.

It was that Victorian style country home that once acted as a wedding venue, redecorated to a minimum. “Wanted it to look nice for you, but so that you can give it your touch. You know better than me.” He admits sheepishly with a pink tint to his cheeks. You beam at him tearily, hands clasped together in sheer joy. “God Jordan, you shouldn’t have!” You exclaim, tears bleeding over your lash line. You knew how expensive these types of homes were, never mind ones so big with such history to them. It hadn’t even made much of a dent for Jordan really. He had more money than either of you could ever have spent and he likes to remind you of that to ensure you know full and well his gentle spoiling of you is not a hardship for him. He actively loves to do it.

“Take it as an anniversary present.” He shrugs, trying to fight at the smile that was tugging his lips. The warmth of your hug and the tears seeping through his white shirt was all a welcome to him no matter how hot it was outside. He could not wait to come home to this house, be welcomed home by you and hopefully some littler mixtures of you and him with your eyes and smile. “Makes my present look a little rubbish now,” you jest, making him chuckle heartily.

The house needed a fair bit of work. New flooring, new carpets, your furniture from home would do just fine but you reckon Jordan will be all for new stuff for a new home. A few new coats of paint and nice clear out, but all in it was still absolutely gorgeous.

“There is one room I really wanted to show you though, if that’s okay?” He asks, keeping his eyes trained down on the floor. You furrow your brows, but nod your head. “I gotta grab something from the car first though?” You hum, detangling your hand from his, “And pee.”

He tilts his head like a curious puppy. “Again? You went right before we left?” He queries. You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Since when do you question a woman’s toilet habits at that point in the month, Henderson?” You poke with a blush and a light giggle. He chuckles with you and holds up his hands in defeat, but the second your out of eye and earshot his shoulders fall and a sigh bursts out his lips. He wouldn’t let it show to you right now his disappointment. You hadn’t been trying long, but it was enough for him to be in the longing stage. Longing to see your swollen belly, longing to feel those tiny kicks against his hands and then hold his brand new baby for the first time, spend all those nights wide awake wishing for nothing but sleep while he cradled them through to the morning. You said it would happen when it happened, but it still ached with every negative test. Hearing you say you were on your period hurt a little more than he had anticipated, but he’s still heart set on showing what he had done with the short time he was able to keep this new home a secret.

You return with your handbag and take his hand. He is instinctive in those soft movements of his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s something he always does to sooth both you and him.

“So this is the master bedroom and I know it’s not quite good yet but I thought-“

“Jordan it’s beautiful,” you cut him off, your hand drifting out of his as you step in slowly. Being cautious of dust sheets and some tools, you walk into the massive room. You’d never been in a bedroom that big and it had blown you away. The huge bed, still with plastic attacked and tags on the mattress. The en-suite bathroom is marble worktops, one of those huge bathtubs and a walk in shower updated to a beautiful mixture of modernity and it’s antique homage. Tears are found again. The window gives a perfect view out the back of the house, rolling fields worth of garden space, loosely fenced in for acres into the distance. There’s a pond on the land a little to the left, not far at all that leads off towards the beginning of the hidden Rose Garden where you met Jordan 4 years ago today. All of that owned and shared by just you and the man you love. “Bloody hell, it’s so magnificent Jordan. I literally have no words.”

He beams shyly almost, “That’s how I feel about you.” He mumbles softly, almost too quiet for you to hear, like he didn’t want you to. “What’s through here?” You call behind you as he trails after you on anxious legs. You carry on through the very short pathway attached to the master bedroom that had some extra storage space. “Well uh..I haven’t finished that so maybe we should just an-“

“Oh my god.”

Jordan rubs nervously at the back of his throat as he enters into the connecting room behind you. His eyes take you in immediately, studying your features carefully. Your hands are clasped over your mouth with slow tears sliding down over your rosy cheeks. Your eyes are afire with love and happiness. “I know it’s weird but-“

“It’s perfect, Jordan.” You throw your arms around his neck, his arms finding you immediately as he buries his head into your shoulder.

It’s the only room with a new carpet yet. It’s soft beneath your shoes, a plush cream colour to match a white wall. The window on the back wall gives the same fantastic view you have in the master room. There’s a white crib pushed against the wall furthest from you with a mobile of twinkling toys dangling above and a baby changing table a little away from the top end of the crib stocked full of pampers and baby cream. In the right corner of the room just by the window is a white wooden rocking chair next to a little book shelf with baby books that had a couple plush teddies and a photo of you and Jordan 4 years ago sitting atop it. The other side corner is decked out with two beanbag seats, a soft baby mat and a bundle of all sorts of soft toys.

“Left that wall blank ‘cause I remember that day you told me you’d always wanted to paint it like the sky.” He recounts, pointing his finger at the wall that the crib was situated next to, making your head whip towards him. He had such a fantastic memory even for the little things you said, just like that. You barely even remember it, spoken under the stars as you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. It gives you no doubt about having kids with him, the thought of him remembering your babies favourite little treats or ineffective toddler secrets makes your heart soar with pride and joy. “Look closer at that.” He turns you round so your facing that wall again, the one with the little cosy corner.

Painted on the wall intricately above it is that rose arbor your stood underneath when he first laid his eyes on you. Where he first had that dance with you, where he told you he wanted to see you again. Where you snuck into when it was late, dark and only lit by those same fairly lights so he could tell you he loved you for the first time all those years ago. The roses are painted in perfect colour, careful and precise in the way they hung around you for that first ever dance you shared together. It’s so beautiful and so lifelike you that get lost in it, reliving the moment your world came together. Every time you sit there, it’ll be like sitting under real thing when you can’t take the baby out there.

“Well this makes my present a little more fitting, then.” You sniffle, letting Jordan swipe the tears gently off your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in a slow, loving motion. “What do you mean?” He asks, “I told you not to get me anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest as you rifle through your bag. “Okay okay, here. Open this.”

You hand over a small gift bag, one stuffed with tissue paper he has to tear through as you sit your bag down and wait, watching him with wide and watery eyes. He pulls out first the tiny little wad of fabric and places the gift bag on top of the white wooden dresser, carefully unravelling the rolled up clothes. “That’s bloody adorable.” He breathes out, trying to keep the tears he has inside his eyes to no avail. You wrap your arm around his back, rubbing his tight shoulders softly. “Look at the back.” You encourage, his eyes meet yours then look back to the tiny clothes.

HENDERSON

8

With a little picture taped carefully to the bottom that he peels off with shaky, tentative fingers. “No way!” He booms, jumping back from you in shock. He looks down at the picture, up at you, back down at the picture, then up at you again with tears slipping over his cheeks. “But you said-“

“It was a surprise!” You squeal back as he swoops forward and scoops you into his arms, spinning you around in glee. “So no food poising? And no period?” He giggled out like a schoolgirl in shock. You shake your head. “Morning sickness and just a diversion. We’re having a baby!”

“We’re having a baby!” He repeats, louder. His words bounce of the walls that can barely contain the happiness inside of them. Threatening to burst at the seams as it fills beyond belief. This room, though incomplete, is perfect. Because you are in it together. Here, together in each other’s arms sharing in joy just like you’ve both shared in pain, hurt, love, happiness, nerves and everything else along the way. Head on, together.

“And this,” Jordan holds up the little football strip with his name printed across the back, his england appointed number proudly underneath, “This is perfect. You,” he pauses, leaning forward to capture your lips in his, “Are perfect.” His hands wander down to your stomach, placed gently over where his pea sized baby currently exists, growing and feeding on the love he intends to drown them in just like he does to you, “Both of you…perfect.”

It is perfect, really. Your love is. Even when it isn’t, it is. When he’s gone too long and you can’t see him because of a pandemic; the effort is made, emotions are shared. He tells you he misses you and his ego is never too big for its space in your relationship. When the world is against him or when fate turns against you both, it’s in each other’s arms that you find solace even if space is needed first. There’s an understanding of the love you have. It’s special. The kind that only a lucky few seem to find these days, a one people can look at and spot from a mile away. It’s beautiful, it’s own space taking entity that makes you both target to significant teasing from friends and family alike. It’s perfect.

Even when you fight over what blue is better to represent the sky just because your pregnant and too hormonal to admit he’d found the right colour before you did. Even when he coats you in paint that ends in an all out paint war, thankful you both removed all the furniture before painting. Even when you sob as your body changes, with pregnant emotions skewing your mind and making you question whether he’ll ever be attracted to you again, he’ll remind you that he’s never been more attracted to you than now. Housing his child, taking the aches, the pains and the changes like a true champ while he can do nothing but rub your feet and buy you ridiculous quantities of Solero ice creams. He’ll remind you in more ways that one just how perfect you are to him. Love by it’s very nature is as messy as that paint fight. It’s up and down and all over the place all the time. But the kind of love that you and Jordan have is a special that doesn’t waver, doesn’t dull or dim or change through time.

If anything, each day he loves you more. Even if he was convinced it wasn’t possible. But then it just was. Seeing you red in the face with sweat dripping over your forehead and tears leaking from your squeezed shut eyes as your screams echo through the room. All he could do was coax and coach, trying to tell you how proud of you he was. Even when you screamed that you despised him, he laughed and told you to squeeze his hand a little harder. It hurt, but that was nothing compared to the pain that you were enduring from multiple areas of your body as that baby ripped through you to make her grand entrance to the world, kicking and screaming just like the fighter her mother was. He thought his heart might burst with the amount of love he has, surely that’s as good as it gets?

No. No, it gets better still.

Everyday it’s better. Better when he gets to watch that woman that he loves so much sing to his tiny baby daughter, rocking in that chair under the painted rose arbor as she feeds from you. The most beautiful, natural thing in the world and he is enthralled by it. Watching you giggle at her she coos up at you. Placing her down in the crib beneath the gentle jingling of the cloud themed mobile next to the pale, sky blue coloured wall, blossoms falling, trickling down through clouds from a painted blossom tree on the wall and rose petals in variations of pink and red along the bottom of the crib. Roses and rose petals just like the ones that surrounded you on the day you danced with each other in under the trees of the garden that summer night. Roses like the ones you stood under to profess your love for one another. Roses, like the ones he took a knee beside, beneath and with one in his hand to give to you as he asked for your hand. Roses like you would stand beneath with one pinned to the breast of his suit to say the vows that would tie you in law to one another and to give you his name. Roses like the ones painted on the far wall, still fresh when you shared the news of that baby girl’s existence. Roses that were such an important symbol of the love you shared, pure and beautiful, sometimes painful but always worth the fight. Those roses painted on that crib with space for just one word carved into the wood.

Rose.

Your own beautiful little Rose.

[smallblip]

Do you have any HCs for Black Labrador Bean? Like what his personality's like or how Hange and Levi adopted him?It's such an adorable concept!

Omg you wanna know about Bean? I’m so glad💖💖💖💖 (for context this is the modern au where Levi and Hanji live in an area where there’s lots of old people and they have a black lab named Bean).

Bean’s a scrawny little dude they had seen at a shelter. They were there because Hanji wanted to go “just to take a look” and “I promise I won’t get a dog.” The shelter people tell them that he’s really quiet and all he does is sit in the corner and look at people. And Hanji’s like “aww Levi! He’s just like you!”

So they open his gate and he approaches them shyly at first, gets a few head scratches from Hanji which he loves, but then goes right to Levi much to him protesting. But he eventually falls asleep on Levi’s lap and Hanji’s already ordering pet supplies online because she *knows*.

And she’s right. They leave with Bean. And the second they leave the shelter, he runs toward a puddle, and obviously Hanji let him, and Levi stands his ground, absolutely mortified because- “Oh no Levi! Look! He’s just like me!”

(A few days later he ruins their cream-coloured couch)

Loves eating hair out of the shower, to Levi’s grief because Hanji keeps forgetting to clear her hair from the showers. It’s gross they’re freaks.

Levi only calls him “Beans”. Hanji almost never calls him Beans. He’s “Beansy Boy”, “Beansington”,“Beans on Toast”, “Beans and Rice”, “Beanbag”, “Jellybean”, “Beans Ackerman-Zoë” when he’s in trouble.

Levi also refers to him as “the dog”. “Hanji! The dog is digging up the sofa again!”, “Hanji! Have you fed the dog?”, “Hanji we should walk the dog”.

Very spoilt. Levi bakes cookies for him. Made tuna cookies once, but Bean decides he doesn’t really like tuna. Levi is very mortified to find that Hanji has been sneaking some into her own lunchbox every day for work.

Levi’s Instagram (the kids at Levi’s work made him create an account) feed is exclusively the few nice photos people took of them during their wedding, the few nice photos they have of their honeymoon and travels, nice photos Levi takes of Hanji, and now it’s mostly Bean.

Hanji always provides commentaries on Beans, also asks him questions. “Where ya off to little buddy? Got places to be? Errands to run!” She’ll then say to Levi “look at our little salary man go!”

And then there’s bath time. It absolutely sucks for Levi. First he had to nag Hanji to take baths, and now he has to physically wrestle Bean into their small tub where he will proceed to protest with his entire body throughout the bath. Like any lab, Beans really likes playing in water. Levi struggles to understand the difference between that and a bath. And Hanji would sit on the toilet cover and be like “see! I’m not so bad am I! At least you don’t have to physically manhandle me to take showers?” And Levi’s like “Hanji. You’re comparing yourself to a dog. You’ve set yourself on the same scale as a fucking animal.”

Did I say disgustingly spoilt and cunning? Escapes the apartment (he sometimes goes down to the gardens he really likes that), and returns with a big belly. They know where he’s bean- sneaking off to their neighbour’s flat. She’s an old lady who has friends over to play cards and they feed him spaghetti. They have to deal with his farts all night. Hanji thinks it’s hilarious.

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

The Brother’s Reaction to MC having a Nightmare

bAby

this gif... holy SHIT 

Lucifer

Whether you started the evening snuggled up under his chin or all alone in your room, he’s an extremely light sleeper since he’s got to keep an ear out for Mammon being stupid at 2 am

So when you start to move restlessly and/or whimper and cry, naturally he’ll awaken and see what the issue is

Lucifer will sit up and gently rest a tentative hand on your trembling shoulder, so as not to startle you

His presence only seemed to make it worse! Your tears got bigger and your cries got louder, your breathing became more uneven until you woke with a start, your own shrill scream scaring you into a frightened, crying ball in front of him

Boi is at a loss…

Was this his fault?

“MC, darling, what has gotten into you? Are you alright?”

“L-Lucifer?” You whimper, watery eyes roving aimlessly in the darkness “L-L-Lucifer?! Where are-”

Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, he reassures you: “I’m here, right here princess,” “I’ve got you, it was just a dream MC... nothing to worry about.”

Strokes your head, smoothing your rumpled hair and supporting your back while you hide your puffy, tearstained face in his collar and cling to him for dear life until you calm down

You’re still shaking when the usually stiff demon presses a kiss to the crown of your head and begins to rock from side to side, murmuring gentle, reassuring words in your ear

“Nothing can hurt you as long as you’re in my arms, MC.” “Deep breaths my love, deep breaths…”

Mammon’s vivid scary stories before bed had obviously been a bad decision, Lucifer decided as he dabbed your cheeks with a kleenex

his poor, sweet human having nightmares about silly campfire tales…

How endearing, yet upsetting

He’ll carry you to the kitchen bridal style and hold you close after getting you a glass of water, then carry you back to bed and tuck you safely against his broad chest for the rest of the night making a mental note to hang Mammon upside down from the banister the following morning

Mammon

He woke up from his dream about goldie who had read “∞” on the ATM and opened his door in answer to the frantic knock to find his favorite human crying

You rushed into his arms, burying your face in his chest to hide your shuddering sobs, nearly sending the now blushing Avatar of Greed off balance in your haste

“Jeez, human! Wha… What happened? Why’re ya crying like that?”

No, like seriously, plz stop crying babie or he’s gonna cry too

Returns the hug, holding MC firmly as he regains his footing and manages to shut the door behind you

“MC, sssh, I’m right here! You don’t hafta worry, ok? Luckily you’ve got the best demon on the job to make ya feel better! Hug me as hard as ya need, ok?”

*forehead and cheek smooches*

Lets you curl up in his lap until you can talk to him without stuttering or choking on tears

Holds you the whole time, almost as if he’s afraid to let go for fear you’ll cry again

“Bad dream? What was it about?”

“Th-Those characters from Levi’s horror game w-were eating you alive and I c-couldn’t move!” You whimper tearfully, “You were begging me for help a-and I couldn’t do anything to save you from them because every time I moved th-these ropes got t-tighter around my neck a-an-”

First of all, he’s horrified that Levi showed you those games when he knew they gave you nightmares. Unfortunately, you had to if you didn’t want to be called a normie for the billionth time that week

Second, he, the great Mammon, begging a mere human for help? Yeah right

Even though he knew in his heart of hearts that that would definitely be the case

“They’re not real, remember that. And if you still think those freaks are lurking in the dark, come find me and the great Mammon will protect you!”

You can't help but giggle and hug him more tightly, knocking him back onto his pillow

Neither of you felt like moving, so Mammon pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and you snuggle together until the morning comes

At the breakfast table, Mammon doesn’t hesitate to screech at Levi for giving you nightmares while cradling your tired, sleep-deprived body against him

Leviathan

Doesn’t hear MC’s knock at first, he’s too absorbed in the 14th episode of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible

As the knocking gets louder and more frantic, the otaku finally notices and pauses the anime, goes to the door and opens it a tiny bit

Just enough to see the teary-eyed MC, hugging their waist in discomfort, shivering in fear, and looking left and right down the hall for danger

“... Yeah?”

“L-Levi? C-Can I come in? *sniff* I just had a really scary dream-”

“I-uh… Ummm I g-guess,”

He lets you in and on a whim, places a tentative hand on your back

He expected you to push him away, but when you choked and rushed into his half-open arms and buried your face in his chest, leviachan.exe has stopped working

EXIT

What was he supposed to do with his hands?!?!??

MC was crying and he was just standing there like a normie? Wh… WhAt wOULd HenRy dO?

“MC, h-hey, it cant’ve been that bad… here, um let’s s-sit down a-and you can talk to me. Sound good?”

He feels you nod and leads you to his large gaming beanbag chair and you get squooshed against his side, shivering and sniveling, but warm and safe

Levi dries your face with the edge of his shirt and after a few moments of comfortable silence, you begin to explain your dream

The slimy creatures scaling the walls of the House of Lamentation with their slimy entrails dripping whitish goo in their wake. Eight spindly legs to each monster, sixteen sinister red eyes, and countless rows of gleaming fangs ready to take a chunk out of anyone who came too close

They managed to get into the house and they chased you and the brothers, but the otaku had tripped over a fallen suit of armor and a spider creature made its move before he could get away

At that point, you’d woken up absolutely terrified and rushed to see if Levi was ok

“But you’ve played horror games with me and we watched My Sister and I Found a Spider and Took It Home, Realizing Soon After it Was a Demon Who Eventually Escaped From the Glass Jar We Used for a House and Ate Our Toes, Transporting Us To Hell Where We Were F-”

“Yeah… I know… B-But it wasn’t that bad. I was reading one of the books Satan recommended. It was a really well-written horror story and it had very realistic pictures. I just can’t seem to get those gross monsters out of my head:(”

Your voice slowly trailed off and Levi realized what he had accomplished

You… You weren’t crying anymore!!

Also, you weren’t breathing really hard or shaking too much! Had… had this yucky otaku really calmed the human down?

*gasp* he was rubbing your back too!? And you hadn’t slapped his icky hands away?

You… you were ok with this? B-Being all snuggled up together on the beanbag chair?

“L-Levi, I-I’m ok now. I’ll leave you alone… I hope I didn’t wake you up…”

“N-No!”

“Something wrong?”

“No… I-um,” (he couldn’t let you get away now! This was perfect! He had you all to himself!! No WAY was he gonna screw this up!!) “You c-can stay a little longer if you’d like… I-I was in the middle of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible… Do you maybe want to stay and watch?”

“You don’t mind? I don’t want to intrude-”

“No! It’s fine!”

And so he fumbled with the remote and hit the play button, but couldn’t focus on a single word the protagonists were saying

You. Fell. Asleep.

On. Him.

Uh

“Maybe… Maybe MC doesn’t think I’m a… ‘yucky otaku’ after all… But don’t get your hopes up, Levi.”

Satan

He fell asleep in his chair, book resting on his chest when he heard a short, quick (almost frantic) string of taps on his door

Being a light sleeper (just like his papa), he immediately woke up to hear your voice on the other side of the door

“Satan? Are… Are you awake? *sniffle*”

It was you

What could you possibly want at this hour?

Upon opening the door, your body crashed into his own, but not before impulsively throwing your arms around his neck and breaking down on his shoulder

“M-MC? Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t

Judging by your stormy sobs and trembling figure, something must have shaken you up horribly for you to act like this

The sweet MC he knew usually kept their cool

He leads you to his big armchair and sits you down, careful to keep a firm hand on your back for support, both emotional and physical

Your eyes were wide and glassy, pupils darting to each corner of the room looking for monsters, bad demons, giant bugs, etc.

Finding none, you finally make shy eye contact with the blonde demon who has kept his arms close about you and dabbed your endless tears away until you were calm enough to speak

“MC, did you have a night terror or something?”

“*sniffle* M-hm. I-I’m sorry S-Satan, I was just so scared I c-couldn’t stay in my room all alone and you were the first person I thought of. So… I ran here. Did I wake you?”

“I fell asleep in my chair again MC. So I would have awakened during the night anyway,” He replied, “Plus, I don’t mind at all. I’m… I’m happy you came. What was your dream about?”

“It was really twisted… are you sure you want to know?”

“You’ll feel better when you talk about it and I’m always up for a story.” He smiled.

He sat back in his chair tentatively resting your head on his chest as you began describing the terrors from only minutes before

“Asmodeus and I, we watched some of those cringey teen romance movies this afternoon and somehow they morphed into a really scary dream. You and I, the rest of your brothers, the angels, Solomon, Diavolo, and even Barbatos were playing spin the bottle for some reason and I landed on you, but when I kissed you, you turned to dust! Th-Then when I landed on Mammon and Beel, the s-same thing happened again, but no one seemed to notice! Th-”

Noticing you were getting worked up again, Satan rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushing you gently and assuring you that everything was fine and ‘innocent’ kissing games weren’t actually deadly

Unless they were

But he didn’t mention that to you at that moment

Instead, he cradled you in his lap and read to you until your eyelids began to droop once more for some much-needed sleep

Being the good boy he is, he tucked you into his bed

BUT

Before he could walk back to his chair

“Satan, aren’t… aren’t you gonna lay with me?” You ask, tired, sweet voice ringing in his ears, “I-If you don’t mind that is. I mean it is your bed, after all, I didn’t mean t-”

He’s blushing up to his ears at your request, but nonetheless rolls onto the mattress next to you and you snuggle up close and fall asleep almost instantly

“As long as you’re here with me, you’ll be safe MC.”

Asmodeus

Why… Why was he up so early? What was that noise? Wait… Where were you?

He could’ve sworn he fell asleep with you in his arms

Sitting up groggily he looked around after rubbing the crust of sleep from his eyes

Something was moving and whimpering next to him, caught in a snare of fluffy blankets

The fearful cries of “Asmodeus! Oh, Asmo please don’t die! No, no, no, NO!!” broke the sweet demon’s heart

Your ragged breathing turned to a blood-curdling scream and you shot upright, but the blankets blocking your vision increased your tearful unease tenfold and you began struggling even harder against them

Taking action, Asmo tugged at the sheets, doing everything he could to help you

When your face emerged from the heap, you took a great gasp of air and immediately began sobbing your heart out

Asmo paused, knowing it unwise to approach someone who’d just escaped the clutches of a nightmare, but he couldn’t just sit there and stare at you!

Luckily, you chose that moment to look around

Your eyes met his amber ones in the semi-darkness and you tackled him, wrapping him in an impossibly tight hug

“A-ASMO!”

“Darling, wh-”

“Oh my god! I thought I killed you! I r-ruined your pretty face! You just sh-shriveled up a-and-”

“Sweetheart, hey~” He murmured, closing his arms around your back and cradling the back of your head in his hand, “Don’t cry anymore, Asmo’s here…”

His gentle comforting coos as he rocked from side to side brought your tears to a halt and soon you were able to look him in the face

Your glassy, frightened eyes had almost a look of reverence when you ever so slightly cupped your palm over his cheek, afraid he would crumble away at your caress once more

When he didn’t, you let out a shaky sigh of relief and visibly relaxed; shoving your face in his shoulder and wrapping your legs and arms around him so he couldn’t escape

It was quiet for a moment

Asmodeus settled his forearms around your waist and said

“Dearest, are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know.”  You fisted his shirt in your palms and looked at him, “That was a really vivid one.”

“Tell me what it was about!” He smiled sympathetically and stroked your cheek, “I have bad dreams sometimes too, MC. If you tell me yours I’ll tell you a few of mii-iiine!”

You couldn’t help but crack a small grin as his sweet tone and nod

“Yesterday Beel told me about the one time he touched Satan’s favorite plant. He’d seen Satan pet the stalk and petals before and he wanted to do it too. (Satan is a plant dad, fight me) But when he touched it, it shriveled up and died on the spot. I… I had a dream where I touched you and you shriveled up! I tried to help you, but every time I touched you, you screamed in pain! Then… Then you died in my arms and I woke up.”

:(

You clung to the demon as he moved, lost in thought. Settling back into the abundant pillows and tugging a sheet over your shoulders, he began to speak

“That sounds absolutely terrifying! What would you do without me?”

“Asmo…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He nuzzled your cheek and hugged you tighter, “Why don’t we find a way to help you forget about it? I have a couple of suggestions… if you’d like to hear them~”

Beelzebub

He’d only been gone for a minute… or four… maybe five…? Right?

Why were you writhing around like that? You sounded like a lost little puppy and… were those tears?

“MC? Are you awake?”

No reply, just your continued whines of discontent and a steady stream of tears soaking the pillow

He dropped his snacks on the floor and carefully knelt on the edge of the mattress, putting a gentle hand on your forehead

Lucifer used to do that when he was sick, long ago when they still lived in the celestial realm. Maybe it would help you? Somehow? Hopefully?

The strangled sob that fell from your lips as you forced his hand away broke his big heart in two

Hold on, your eyes were closed! Wait, you were having a bad dream!

Throwing all caution to the wind (and not knowing the consequences of waking someone in this state) and began shaking you rather roughly, scaring you awake and making you bonk heads when you sat up too quickly

Now you were crying for more reasons than one

Your head hurt, two big scary hands had your shoulders in a tight grip, there was a large figure looming over you in the dark, your dream was still raging and replaying in your head, and it was really dark and uncomfortably warm

Even in the dim light, Beel witnessed the look of pure terror that crossed your face

You thought his heart was broken? Well it just fucking shattered

You were scared? Of him?

“MC, it’s just me! Don’t be afraid!”

He’d woken you up, but apparently he’d only made things worse…

Beel is vewy sowwy :(

Those lovely amethyst eyes…

“B… Beeley?”

“MC? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn-”

You silence the ginger demon by throwing yourself into his arms in unparalleled relief, afraid you hadn’t really woken up and the shadow of your favorite brother was just MC’s Nightmare, Continued

Happy you’re in his arms, he squeezes back with all his might and burying his face in your shoulder

“I just had the worst nightmare Beel. I’m so happy you’re here…” You murmur, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“Is your head ok?”

“M-hm.”

The pair of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Beel offers you a tissue to dry your face, but you can’t seem to stop crying

“MC, maybe if you told me about it, you’d feel better!”

His sweet, honest smile made you melt

But the contents of your dream… You looked guiltily toward the bed on the other side of the room where you knew the Avatar of Sloth was sleeping peacefully

“You… You promise not to tell Belphie?”

“What do you mean?”

“W-Well I dreamt about that time… you know… when he killed me? He gave me a hug before bed like he always does a-and I love Belphie’s hugs but I can’t help but think about... that. I feel bad, it’s the same as holding a grudge! I’m sorry Beel.”

*insert pikachu face meme* = beel

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault you had the dream.”

“I know… I feel bad though. Did I wake you up?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Nuh-uh. I was already up grabbing snacks.” He pointed to the untidy pile a few feet away. “Maybe some TSL and food will bring your smile back. Don’t worry about your dream MC, the secret is safe with me. Plus, you’re only human and I guess being killed would be really scary for you. I didn’t protect you that time, but if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, I’ll be there before you can say Burgers from Akuzon, ok?”

The smile lifts your lips before he finishes his sentence warms his heart and puts a happy smile on his own as you give him a final squeeze and whisper

“Thanks a lot, Beeley.”

Belphegor

It is said the Avatar of Sloth could sleep through anything, even the loudest storm and the echoes of 4th of July from the human world

But when the precious human cuddled up in his arms every night begins to move around and/or whimper in fear, Belphegor is awake in minutes only to find you squirming away from him and begging to some invisible entity “Just… Just d-don’t hurt them! I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, please don’t hurt me I-”

The seventh born is squeezing your hand and whispering encouragement in your ear, telling you you’re safe and that it’s just a dream

Slowly opening your eyes you look around, still terrified and jumpy from your vision, but the warm hand intertwined with yours and the comforting arm around your back, plus the familiar scents of the twins’ room slowly bring you back to reality

“MC?”

“Belphie? I-Is that you?”

“Who else would it be, dummy.”

You ignore the half hearted insult and bury your face in his chest, allowing your heart to reach a normal pace and his natural scent and warmth to wash over you

“Tell me about it. Sounded pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up Belphie, I know how you hate losing sleep…”

“Just… Be quiet and tell me your dream!”

“S-Sorry… Um, so I didn’t know you too well yet and an angel came and took the precious grimoire, but me and Beel were caught up in it and there was this whole thing with Purgatory Hall and Luke and-”

“Your stories can put me right to bed you know that? Anyway, so what happened? Did Lucifer tear the angel’s head off?” He looked rather hopeful…

“Of course not! Lucifer was gonna make me choose who I wanted to save, either Beel or Luke and I didn’t want either of them to get hurt so I said ‘both’ and Lucifer got really mad and scary and in my dream he ended up hurting Luke and Beel and he would’ve gotten me if you hadn’t woken me up.”

“You’re welcome.”

“... *sigh* Thanks for listening Belphie.”

With a sigh of his own, he pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder

“It was just a dream. You don’t have to be afraid, you know. I’m right here for you. Always.”

“Aww, than-”

“Forget I said that! Shut up and go to sleep!”

[thedeathdeelers]

juke + fairy lights

again, this was supposed to be shorter but like..you know. hope you enjoy tho 🥺

——

He knew she was miserable.

She had caught a cold a few days ago, and she was going through it. Her nose was clogged up, her throat so sore she barely had a voice, and whenever Luke watched her try to get up and out of bed, she would lose her balance, nearly toppling over. Thankfully he had been there every single time to catch her, steadying her before leading her back into bed.

But now, sitting on the beanbag in her bedroom watching her as she scowled up at her ceiling, he knew he had to do something. Anything. He didn’t like seeing her like this, understanding all too well what she was going through - he remembered how awful it felt being stuck indoors doing absolutely nothing for days on end while watching everyone around you go about their day. She was a kindred spirit - he knew exactly how she felt.

Luke sneaked a look at Julie again only to find her staring out her window, a slight frown taking over her features.

Over the last few weeks, before Julie had gotten sick and had gotten stuck indoors, they had started spending their nights lying down side by side on the roof terrace outside her window, watching the stars twinkling away against the dark inky expanse of the night sky. Luke had seen the way Julie watched the sky, a look of wonder in her eyes followed by a smile that transformed up her face, conveying the unadulterated happiness she felt surrounded by the miracle of nature.

But now she was stuck inside, hidden from the lights that brought her so much joy.

Turning his head towards the window, Luke peered up at the night sky littered with stars stretching out as far as the eyes could see. For a fleeting second he had thought of suggesting they sit by her window on the floor and watch the shimmering spectacle from there, but had thought better of it. He knew it wouldn’t be the same, and he definitely didn’t want to move her from her bed or risk make her more tired than she already was.

He racked his brain trying to think up of an alternative, of a way to make her day a little brighter, when he suddenly remembered a picture Julie had shown him of her and Flynn posing in Flynn’s bedroom a while ago. He remembered being completely focused on the Julie in the picture at the time in her cropped Double Trouble t-shirt, but now that he thought back to it, he vaguely remembered seeing a string of lights twinkling away behind the girls in the background.

Hm, maybe...

With a tentative idea forming in his mind, Luke shot up from his seat, bouncing over to where Julie was lying on her bed. He kneeled down beside her, coming face to face with a sorrowful looking Julie.

“Hey,” he whispered, his fingers grazing her cheeks.

“Hi,” she mouthed back, her voice still absent after days of coughing and a sore throat.

“I’m going to go check on something with the guys, but I’ll be right back, okay?”

He watched as the corner of her lips tugged down, a slight pout forming.

She nodded at him, even though he could tell she wasn’t happy about him leaving her.

“I swear I won’t be long, just need to do something real quick.”

She nodded again, her bottom lip jutting out a little more. He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her forehead before getting up and poofing out of her room. He knew if he had spent a second longer looking at her pout, he would have caved and stayed put.

But no - the idea in his head was now fully formed and he wanted to do this for her. He was getting excited just thinking about the small chance that he might be able to make her feel a little better. He had to at least try.

He poofed into Carlos’ room, happy to find the littlest Molina playing on his iPad - communicating with him this time ‘round would be easy.

He moved in closer, clicking the lock screen button 3 times, just as Reggie had instructed him to. As soon as the third click sounded, Carlos’ head whipped up in his direction.

“Reggie?” Carlos quickly swiped out of the game he was playing, and switched to the program Luke knew how to use.

Holding out his iPad in Luke’s general direction, Luke grabbed the fake fancy pen attached to Carlos’ iPad he was told to use, and started typing out his message.

Watching the screen as letters and words started to appear, Carlos corrected himself.

“Ah, hey boy band.”

It usually got on Luke’s nerves when Julie’s little brother still insisted on calling him that, but right now he had more important things to focus on.

He finished typing out his request, and waited. Not a minute later, Carlos reached for his phone and started dialling the number Luke needed.

“Hey Flynn...no everything’s fine. What? How could you say that...I always call just to say hi...no.... Okay fine yeah, boy band needs something. No, not Alex. He’s drumstick. Yeah. Hers.”

Hers?

“Yeah, she’s still pretty sick, I think. Hasn’t really left her room for a few days, but neither has he, according to Reggie.”

Luke could hear Flynn’s eye roll all the way from the other side of the line.

“Yup, pretty much. Uh yeah so he- uh, I think he’s asking if he can borrow your star lights? I don’t know he just said uh-” Carlos referred back to his iPad, rereading Luke’s request. “Yeah, that’s what he said. I don’t know Flynn. Fairy-” Carlos turned his head back towards Luke, and asked “Do you mean fairy lights?”

Luke wasn’t entirely sure what they were called, but he figured they were on the right path.

He typed out his quick reply onto the screen, and watched as Carlos relayed his message to Flynn.

“Okay, yup. Cool, I’ll let him know. Okay okay, yes. Ok bye Flynn!” Carlos quickly hung up even though Luke was pretty sure he could still hear Flynn talking on the phone.

“So boy band, Flynn said the lights will be ready in like 5 minutes. She’ll leave them on her windowsill. She said to just grab them and leave, but she’ll want them back once Julie’s feeling better. She’s assuming they’re for Julie so..”

Carlos shrugged, and went back to his game, losing any and all interest in the ghost still standing in his room.

Luke reached out and quickly ruffled Carlos’ hair, poofing out just in time to hear an indignant yelp escape Carlos as he attempted to swipe at the space Luke had just vacated.

He reappeared outside Flynn’s house, taking his time walking around the perimeter of her house, keeping an eye on each first floor window he saw, unsure of which one led to Flynn’s bedroom. On his third walk around the house, he spotted a bundle of cables with stars attached to them sitting on the outside ledge of one of the windows on the North facing side of the house.

Luke poofed up, balancing precariously on the much smaller rooftop terrace as he grabbed the lights, waving them in the air once he noticed Flynn watching from the other side of window pane.

“You better take good care of her, lover boy,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “And don’t break my lights!”

With one final wave of the lights in his hand, Luke poofed out of there, quietly landing back in Julie’s bedroom. He hid the lights behind his back as he checked on her, making sure she wasn’t looking at him.

Once he was assured that she was asleep, Luke started setting up.

He started by hanging the lights around the top of her bed frame, the higher up, the better. He strung them across her ceiling, making sure to hook up the end of the fairy lights onto the hanging rod of her curtains. He then proceeded by wrapping the rest of the lights down the sides of her bed posts, leaving a couple of the soon-to-be blinking lights to pool onto the foot of her bed.

Satisfied with his work, Luke switched off every single light in her bedroom, plugged in the fairy lights and settled himself next to her on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he watched her sleep, a peaceful expression on her face.

Now all he had to do was wait.

——

A few hours later, while Luke was working through a difficult bridge in his head, his eyes closed as he rested against the headboard, he felt Julie shifting next to him.

He opened his eyes and found that she had turned to face him, her stare fixed on him.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he whispered, a small smile appearing on his lips.

Julie’s lips twitched, her hand appearing from under the covers to wave at him.

“You feeling a little better?” His fingers reached out, pressing against her forehead to check for any signs of the fever that had finally gone down yesterday.

At her nod, his smile transformed itself into a grin.

“Good, ‘cause I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

He could already feel the ball of worry in his chest getting lighter at the way her eyes lit up at the mention of a surprise.

“Come on, close your eyes. I just need you to sit up a tiny bit, though.” At his words, her eyes slid shut, her arms coming out from under the covers to push herself up into a slight sitting position. Once there was a little bit more space behind her for Luke to fit, he took his spot, slipping in between her and her headboard. He placed his hands on her waist, pulling her back towards him as they both settled themselves into a comfortable position, his legs on either side of her.

Once they were set, she leaned back against his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck, her eyes still closed but her smile a little wider.

“You ready?” He whispered in her ear, his hands lightly squeezing her sides once.

She nodded.

“Alright. You can open your eyes, boss.”

At his words, Julie’s eyes fluttered open, immediately followed by a small gasp escaping her as she took in their surroundings. Her hands shot up to cover her mouth before they landed back down into the bed a few seconds later in search of his.

He shifted his hands from her sides, moving them to rest on her stomach. Her hands instantly followed suit as she covered his with her smaller, softer ones, her fingers gripping onto his.

He watched her as she took in the show, the glimmering lights above and all around them reflected in her eyes.

Luke nudged her temple with his nose before placing a kiss on the soft skin under her ear.

“I figured since we couldn’t go outside to watch the stars, I’d bring them to you,” he whispered.

Julie’s hands tightened their grip on his, her eyes not leaving the spectacle in front of her.

As he continued to watch her, her eyes flitting from one dancing light to the other, he noticed a lone tear making its way down her cheek.

“Jules? Jules! Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Why was she crying? Did he do something wrong? Was it because he had moved her? Wha-

But before he could start to fully panic, Julie simply shook her head, before turning to face him.

“It’s perfect,” came her quiet whisper. “Thank you, Luke.”

At her words, Luke let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in. “Of course Julie, anything for you. You know that.”

She stared at him for a few more minutes, the look in her eyes morphing into something that had his stomach erupting into thousands of fluttering butterflies.

“I love you,” she mouthed, her lips tilting up at the corners.

Three simple words. Three simple life changing words.

Luke could do nothing but stare at her, his mouth hanging slightly open, as his brain tried to process what was happening. Sure he had been head over heels for her from the moment he laid eyes on her, the moment he heard her sing. But to have her here in his arms, actually saying these words to him - he felt like he had somehow crossed over, finally making it into Heaven.

In his momentary daze at her proclamation, he had barely noticed Julie shifting again in his embrace, just enough so that she could cup his cheek with her hand.

“Luke?” She whispered questioningly. The sensation of her thumb brushing against his cheekbone jerked him out of his stupor, his hand coming up to press hers closer to his face.

“I love you too.” His voice was low, quiet & soft, but still full of all the conviction he could muster. At his reply, her eyes crinkled up with the force of the smile that was taking over her face.

He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.

He brushed her hand against his face, moving his head just enough so that he could place a kiss on the palm of her hand. The smile on her face didn’t budge as she withdrew her hand, turning her head around so that she was facing the lights in front of them once again.

She settled herself back against his chest as Luke wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, bringing her closer to him, closer to her place in his heart.

FIN

[atlabeth]

Can I get a Fluff with scenes 12 , 19, and 20 for Sokka x fem reader. They plan a date and get ready for it. Sokka and the gaang are amazed on how Y/N looks for their date.

you look perfect - sokka x fem!reader

a/n: this was such a cute request ive been writing so much angst lately that i needed some fluff lol. i played w the request a little and once again i wrote way too much but i hope you still like it!!

wc: 1.7k 

warning(s): only a little bit of insecurity on the reader’s side but the rest is all fluff :))

12. “It looks good on you.” 19. “How did I manage to get you?” 20. “Maybe I’m just lucky.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you guys sure that this goes with the dress?”  Y/N looked at herself in the mirror uneasily as Suki finished up her eyeshadow, fiddling anxiously with her hands in her lap. Katara was working magic on her hair, styling it to perfection, and Toph was sitting on a beanbag in the corner of her room to offer moral support. She had called her girls over to help her get ready for her date with her boyfriend; they had been more than happy to help her out and gossip together, but nerves were once again getting the better of her. 

It had only been a little over a year since she had been silently pining for Sokka — ever since he had walked into the lecture hall on their first day of classes, she had been drawn to him. It didn’t help that he had chosen a spot right next to her — this was a class essential for half the majors at the university, so he didn’t have very many choices coming in right before the clock — but that easy smile he shot at her before taking out his laptop made her feel some kind of way. 

They ended up getting paired together for their first project, and they became friends in no time. Doing projects together turned into studying together, and they had been spending a lot of time together at various cafes and libraries in preparation for their midterm. Y/N had been wanting to ask Sokka out for a while, but she was so scared of messing up their friendship that she just settled for it. After all, he was an amazing friend and had become one of her closest ones, so it was hardly settling. Luckily for her, she ended up not having to make the first move. 

“Hey, Y/N.” She hummed in response to let Sokka know she had heard him, but didn’t look up from her laptop. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

“Oh, I think that would be great! Our midterm is on Wednesday, so if we fit in another long study session tomorrow we’ll have Monday and Tuesday to take it all in and do some last-minute preparations.” 

“No, no studying.” That got her attention and she stopped her rapid typing, being met with that same easy smile he gave her the day they met when she looked up. “Just.. the two of us, together. I could take you out to lunch, and you could have something that isn’t coffee for once.” 

Now Y/N was really paying attention. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and she was unable to stop the wide smile playing on her lips. “Sokka, are you asking me out?” 

He laughed and nodded, giving her a similar smile but with a hint of nervousness in it. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” 

Y/N set her hand on the table and Sokka set his on top of it, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You don’t even know how much I’d love to go out with you.” 

“For the thousandth time, yes!” Suki nodded, pleased with her work, and started to clean up the palettes that she had laid all over the floor. “You know I would never do you wrong.”

“I know that Suki, but.. This isn’t something that I usually wear, what if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks I’m trying too hard? I usually don’t even do makeup, but I really wanted—”

“Y/N, stop!” Her eyes snapped over to Toph, who came over and put her hands on her shoulders. “Remind me what you’re getting ready for, again?” 

Toph’s brutal honesty was one of the things Y/N appreciated most about her, and bringing her back down to Earth was something she needed desperately right now. “A date with my boyfriend?” 

“Yes, and what is that date celebrating?” 

“...our one year anniversary.” 

“Exactly!” Toph clapped her on the shoulder a lot harder than she needed to, and Y/N let out a surprised laugh. “You’ve been dating him for a year, this man is totally and completely whipped for you! You literally have nothing to worry about.” 

“I know, but still! What if he doesn’t like this shade, or you’re all lying and this actually doesn’t bring out my eyes, and—” 

“Y/N, please. Look at me.” Katara’s voice interrupted her ramble, and Y/N met Katara’s eyes, finding a lifeline in the ocean she carried within them. She started playing with the ring on her finger again — it was a promise ring that Sokka had given her half a year into their relationship, and she never took it off. It was one of her most treasured possessions, and just holding it helped her worries fade away a bit.

“I know my brother, and I know how he feels about you.” Katara finished off Y/N’s hair and took a seat on the floor in front of her. “After that first day in class with you, he told me about this beautiful girl he met in his calculus class. He said, ‘something about her seemed so inviting, so I sat next to her. I even lied about forgetting my pencil so that I would get to talk to her, even just for a second.’” 

Y/N smiled to herself, already feeling her cheeks heating up. Sokka had told her about that on their first date, and she remembered how shocked she was that he had thought about her when they first met in the same way she did. “I remember that. He told me how nervous he was to ask me out, and that was just crazy to me. He carries himself so confidently and he’s just so smooth in everything that he does.. The thought of him getting nervous over me is so cute.”

“Everything is going to be fine, okay? You look absolutely fantastic in every way possible. I’ll be surprised if he’s even going to be able to take his eyes off of you. Everyone is going to be looking at you when you look like this.” Suki patted Y/N on the cheek and smiled, and her nerves finally settled, but only for a moment. There was a knock on the door and Y/N took a deep breath, shaking her hands out as she gave her friends a desperate look. She felt the same way that she did the time he came to pick her up for their first date — childish joy and excitement all playing together to form some very big butterflies in her stomach. 

“Go get your man, Y/N!” Toph hit her on the shoulder and Y/N laughed, running out of her room so she could get to the door. She took a second to compose herself before opening the door, revealing the image of her boyfriend in a simple sports coat and slacks — it was one of the most basic combinations, but Sokka made it look like he was walking out of a luxury store. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, and he perked up when she opened the door. 

“Sokka! You have perfect timing, I just finished getting ready.” She opened the door wider so that he could come in if he wanted to and gasped. “Are those flowers?” 

Sokka didn’t say anything, his mouth parted like he wanted to say something but just couldn’t find the words. His wide eyes traveled up and down, looking at her makeup, her hair, her outfit, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked, and that gorgeous smile that had drawn him in from the start. She was completely and utterly perfect, and it was like his brain was shutting down trying to think of how to communicate it to her. 

“What?” Y/N looked down at her outfit and pulled at the fabric, mentally kicking herself and already starting to walk back to her room. She was convinced he didn’t like it. “You know, I wasn’t really into this anyways, I can change if you just give me a second—” 

Sokka grabbed her wrist and pulled him back to her, stopping her rambling with a heated kiss. Y/N practically melted as she returned it, and was completely breathless when she pulled away. 

“What was I saying?” She asked, slightly dazed. 

“Your dress,” he said with a chuckle. “It looks good on you. You look so good, so.. perfect. I just forgot how to talk for a while there.”

Y/N smiled shyly and rubbed her arm, all the insecurity from before dissipating. She always wanted everything to be perfect for her boyfriend so that he would understand how much she loved him, but Sokka loved her, not the clothes she wore or the way she did her hair. Of course, she looked drop dead gorgeous tonight, but to him, she was always perfect. “How did I manage to get you?” 

“I ask myself that every time I look at you.” Sokka grinned and held out the flowers, his eyes following her as she set them in a nearby vase. He then pulled her into the hallway with him, allowed Y/N to close the door before they started walking down the hallway together. “And the only thing I can come up with, the only reason that someone like you could fall into my life, is that maybe I’m just lucky.”

“I think it was fate. I truly believe that we were meant to meet because.. I just can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve loved you since that first bad joke you made to me during class, and this has undoubtedly been the best year of my life,” Y/N mused. 

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you fell for me after I pulled out the comedy.” He laughed and gave Y/N a cheeky smile as he held the door to exit the complex open for her, the cool night air doing nothing to help her flushed cheeks. 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. Happy anniversary.” Sokka’s eyes softened as he looked at her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the lips before they continued. “I can’t wait to celebrate so many more of these with you.” 

And as they walked into the parking lot towards Sokka’s car, hands intertwined together, his thumb rubbing against hers, and her lips still burning from where he kissed her, Y/N wondered what she had ever been worried about. 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Remember, Don't You Miss Us?

Prompt: hey, if you're taking requests for Sanders sides, can I request some angsty human au! familial sides? patton/janus as parents that get/have gotten divorced and (some of) the others move between houses or smth?? idk do what you want as long as its angsty with a happy ending

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: divorced moceit at the start, they fix it, other than that you good

Pairings: parental moceit, errybody else is the kids

Word Count: 3738

The void never used to be as obvious.

Patton and Janus got divorced, their children split between the two houses. They manage to keep up appearances, but the emptiness never really goes away.

The kids decide to do something about it.

The void never used to be as obvious.

There were times when Patton would come downstairs, expecting to see at least someone else awake, perhaps Logan in the corner chair, curled around a mug of coffee and staring out the window, perhaps Roman at the table with his notebook out and his pen flying, or perhaps Virgil, just rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tried to figure out what to do next. Remus wasn’t an early riser, but perhaps—on very rare occasions—there he would be, sprawled across the floor, playing with his toys.

But now there’s no one to make the coffee for Logan, no one to encourage Roman to write down his ideas, no one to chuckle softly at bleary little Virgil. No one to halfheartedly scold Remus for leaving his toys all over the floor.

Patton still goes to the coffee pot and turns it on, even if there are buttons on the top he doesn’t dare to touch. Logan asked him once why he refuses to change the settings, even if he doesn’t like the kind of coffee it makes. His hands had shaken too much to answer.

He still goes through all the motions of making breakfast, even if the sudden tug in his chest at the worry they won’t have enough eggs goes limp as he realizes there are only three of them in the house now. Roman asked him once why he was staring at the carton of eggs lying there on the counter. He’d shaken his head and said he was counting.

He still hesitates at the door too long when it’s time to take his kiddos to school, expecting a green blur to tug a blob of purple down the stairs so fast he worries they’re going to hurt themselves. Both Roman and Logan look at him confused when he wants to wait a little longer before taking them out to the car.

But mostly…

Mostly he misses the flash of yellow in the corner of his eye. He could never quite pull off the color, something about the way his undertones refused to cooperate or…something like that. His own wardrobe looks…smaller now, simpler. He never used to blend into the walls this much.

Mostly he misses the low voice coming from the other room, up the stairs, just over his shoulder. His own voice is too high, too bubbly to be properly sarcastic and the absence of that voice twisting words around and around and around. Or when it would soften, and oh how much he could drown in the softness.

Mostly he misses the gloved hands on his shoulder, the small of his back, around his waist, on his hips, cupping the nape of his neck. Patton hugs his kiddos all the time, but there was something about the drag of gloves against his clothes that made him tighten his hugs.

Mostly he misses waking up to someone else warm on cold nights.

The bed feels so much bigger.

No.

No, don’t go down that road, it only leads to crying and Roman and Logan trying frantically to fix it.

They couldn’t.

It wasn’t their fault, they’re kids. They didn’t deserve to have to fix these things, these were an adult’s responsibility, these were problems they wouldn’t know how to solve. It wasn’t their fault that Patton never learned when to stop pushing. It wasn’t their fault that Patton could never figure out where the lines were drawn. It wasn’t their fault that Patton could never stop crying, making it all about himself, never wanting to listen.

Patton scrubs a hand under his nose before it can start to drip.

No. No, it wasn’t their fault, it was—it is his.

It’s his fault they can’t see their brothers anymore, not like they used to.

It’s his fault their Papa went away.

It’s his fault that he couldn’t figure out how to love Janus.

But goodness, does he miss him.

———————————————

The room’s never felt this small before.

There were times when Janus would open the door and expect someone, anyone, to barrel into him before he could step over the threshold and words would tumble out, perhaps a new idea Remus had, perhaps something Virgil was worried about, perhaps Logan with a slew of new questions for him, or perhaps—if he was coming home on a night that Roman didn’t have an after-school club—it would be Roman, wrapping his arms tightly around Janus and refusing to let him go.

But now there’s no one to keep Remus supplied with new sketchbook paper, no one to sit quietly and talk through Virgil’s fears with him, no one to go on Wikipedia odysseys with Logan, and no one to beam at Roman.

Janus still walks to the bookshelf and runs his hand along the spine of the books, searching, searching for something to read that he hasn’t read in a while, and unbidden his mind will go directly to what puns he could make from the titles. Remus had looked up at him once as a chuckle forced its way out through his lips and asked him what was so funny. Janus had shaken his head and said something had just crossed his mind.

He still walks into a room and instinctively picks up a pen to toss into the corner, expecting a soft ‘thank you’ or an ‘ow!’ from the chair or the couch or the desk. Virgil had stared at him one time when he’d walked into the room and without thinking, grabbed a pen from the pen pot and chucked it across the room, eyes wide, wondering what was happening. Janus had dropped to the ground and done his very best to comfort the poor dear, saying that no, he wasn’t angry, he did that from a habit, it’s alright, it’s alright…

He still has the urge to buy another beanbag chair, even though the one they have right now fits the three of them perfectly, unable to get the worry of making the twins share for longer than absolutely necessary out of his head. Virgil and Remus had shrugged and said they’d be fine with having their own beanbag chairs, but they look too small all alone in the sea of fabric and small plastic balls. He’d shaken his head and said he prefers seeing them all together.

But mostly…

Mostly he misses the bright, bubbly laughter that would fill the house to bursting, drawing a smile to his lips at how unabashedly happy it was. The siren song would lure him from every corner of the house, even if he were knee-deep in work, just to see what made its owner so deliriously happy.

Mostly he misses the easy words, the sweet nothings, the effortless comfort. He’s a little too rough, too guarded, too intimidating to sound as gentle and kind and reassuring, he can’t be the softer kind of support that his sweeties need sometimes. That loss, the fumbling of his tongue, always makes those sobs sound so much louder.

Mostly he misses the shameless questions. How is he doing today, what can we do to help, you know we love you, right? Such selfless care, emanating from everywhere, unconditional support, that promise, he doesn’t know how anyone could do that. For someone for whom love still fit clumsily on his tongue, he was in danger of dying of thirst after years of feeling like he could drown in it.

Mostly he misses turning around and not seeing an empty space next to him.

Don’t start.

Not again.

You don’t deserve to miss something when you threw it away without caring.

This road only leads to silences, silences Remus tries to fill by being too big, too loud, too much, silences Virgil detests and hides away, waits out, curling around his security stuffie until feels it’s safe to come out again.

It won’t be.

It’s not their fault, they’re kids. They shouldn’t be trained to read every single emotional cue to make sure their worlds won’t be upended again, they shouldn’t have to try and take of their parent, they shouldn’t be worrying about what’s going on with a problem they can’t fix. It isn’t their fault that Janus never learned how to let himself be vulnerable. It isn’t their fault that he never learned how to bite back some of his harsher remarks. It isn’t their fault that Janus could never stop trying to defend himself from someone who would never hurt him, never wanting to listen.

Janus takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

It’s his fault. Of course, it’s his fault.

It’s his fault Remus still looks around for his twin in the mornings.

It’s his fault that the brothers will grow up divided.

It’s his fault that Dad lives separately from them now.

But damn, he misses Patton so much.

———————————————

Logan: So we’re in agreement, this happens this Friday.

emo-nightmare: no need for all the grammar there L

Princey: Yes! This Friday™! It will be glorious and victorious!

living nightmare: we all will shout uproarious?

emo-nightmare: cause life is so euphorious

Logan: That’s not a word, Virgil.

emo-nightmare: if you wanna write to disney and tell em theyre using made up words i can think of better places for u to start

Princey: no virge don’t he’ll actually do it

Logan: Putting that aside, we agree that we’re doing this this Friday, yes?

Princey: Yep. Dad thinks we’re gonna go to the park to hang out after school and he’s meeting us there.

emo-nightmare: papa’s got a photoshoot with that new brand and rem and i suggested the park at 530

living nightmare: I got the fake blood and mannequin heads

Princey: REMSU WHAT THE FUKC

emo-nightmare: wow how is L letting yo make that many typos

Princey: fuck off V

living nightmare: how is Dad letting you get away with swearing that much

Princey: I am disowning you

living nightmare: on what grounds?

Princey: on the grounds that your a douchebag and you swear every two words

emo-nightmare: *you’re are u proud of me L

Logan: Had you not used the ‘u’, I would be

emo-nightmare: smh when will I be enough

Princey: you don’t need to be enough for us to love u now NO MORE SAD TALK IT IS OPERATION GET OUR DADS TO PULL THEIR HEADS OUTTA THEIR ASSES TIME

Logan: Everything is a go?

Princey: Sure is!

emo-nightmare: Roger

living nightmare: so I shouldn’t bring the mannequin heads?

Logan: No.

Princey: NO

emo-nightmare: guess not

living nightmare: :(

———————————————

In the end, it’s surprisingly easy for their kids to do things without them noticing.

Patton doesn’t Roman sneaking a camera into his backpack on the way to school, or the way he nods at Logan as they spilt up upon reaching the gates. He’s too preoccupied with scanning the parking lot, seeing if maybe, just maybe, there’s another familiar car here that he shouldn’t be caught looking at.

He doesn’t notice the way Logan texts him to remind him that they’ll be meeting at the park, across the street from the library, at 5:30 pm sharp, next to the fountain, and says that Patton will be there, not him. He’s too busy remember the last time he was at that fountain.

Janus doesn’t notice the way Remus pouts one more time at Virgil as they get ready to go, sighing and rolling his eyes about how boring the others are getting. He’s too focused on how he still expects to see a different person in the passenger seat as he drops them off a block away from the school.

He doesn’t notice the way Virgil doesn’t ask him to remember that they’re meeting after school in the park so he can help with taking the photos, but tells him, in no uncertain terms, that Janus better be in the park by the fountain at 5:30. He’s…busy remembering why he agreed to have the photoshoot by the fountain in the first place.

“Wait, why don’t you want to do the partner photoshoot?”

Janus sighs, leaning back against the fountain. “Because it has me fake being a couple.”

Patton’s mouth opens and closes and Janus sighs. Patton looks at the ground.

“I don’t believe that kind of bond can be just an arrangement,” he says after a moment, “as if it were a…contract or something. For something that they want but not—not like that.”

The fountain burbles quietly. Janus tips his head back to look at the stars.

“And what do you want?”

Patton turns, straightening as the frustration in his voice drifts away. “What do I want?”

Janus nods.

“What a good question,” he murmurs, looking at him, “what I want…is for you to come closer.”

Janus blinks in shock, his brow furrows just the slightest bit. Patton smiles and beckons.

“Yes,” he encourages when he takes a tentative step, “come closer.”

He stands to his full height as he stops in front of him, still searching his face for a clue as to what is going on. He doesn’t hold his gaze, instead looking at him with such awe that the sweet thing flushes. His hands come up slowly, hovering above his shoulders before carefully, carefully taking hold of his arms.

“This,” he breathes, “is what I want,” he says as his fingers toy with the roughness of his jacket, “this is what I want, what I have always wanted.”

Oh.

Oh.

Janus’s breath catches in his throat but Patton doesn’t stop.

“To have you here in my arms and to know—“ his gaze flashes up to catch Janus’s— “that you feel at home here.”

As his eyes go wide, Patton takes them a step away from the fountain. His gaze searches his face desperately.

“Tell me,” he asks, “do you still feel comfortable here? With me? Is it still home for you?”

It’s too much. The way his gaze threatens to tear his heart from his chest, his words pluck his walls apart, brick by brick, it’s too much. He can be the friend, he can’t—he can’t see Patton like this.

“Please…please…don't turn away from me—look at me.” A hand catches his chin, guiding him back. “Look in my eyes.”

I can’t, he wants to say, it’ll hurt when I have to look away.

“Are you scared?” His face falls. “By what? I won’t hurt you, I’d never hurt you, unless…”

He swallows, and something flickers behind his eyes.

“…you want to go?”

“It’s not that,” he manages, closing his eyes as he shakes his head, “I promise it’s not that.”

“If not, then what?”

“The others—I can’t—“

He doesn’t let him finish, swiftly cutting him off with a shake of his head. “No. No one can tell you that you can’t be here with me. I want you here, as long as you want to be here.”

I can stay? he asks with the furrow between his brows.

You can stay, he replies with the appearance of a smile.

“I know what I want, Janus.” Patton takes the smallest step closer. “Always have. And there was a time when…when you wanted that too.”

Janus chuckles. “You sound ridiculous.”

Patton laughs too. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m happy to be ridiculous if it lets me…”

He trails off and Janus frowns.

“…lets you what?”

“Be yours,” he murmurs as Janus’s heart pounds, “and to hear you be called mine.”

His face contorts as he traces the curve of his cheek again. He follows the trail of warmth, pushing into it with the hesitant desperation of a single trickle of water, halted by a dam in the river.

“You’re still here,” comes the quiet observation, “so clearly you're not afraid…are you?”

“…I don’t know anymore.”

“Then if you didn't trust me…” He swallows. “Then I’d ask you to—to go. Because I don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be.”

The thought of leaving sends a spike through his ribs, punching a breath out of his lungs. He presses into his hand as much as he dares.

“…but if you do trust me,” he whispers, the fountain still humming behind them, “if you are truly not afraid of my touch as you've shown…close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats, “…please.”

He does as bid, all but thrumming in his hands. The hand on his cheek trembles for barely a moment, as if its owner is suddenly overcome by the realization that they’re here, before he feels a warmth next to his face and a puff of breath that isn’t his own.

“W-wait!”

The air freezes.

His eyes fly open as he struggles to process what just happened.

Patton. Patton. His Patton. He—he loves him. He invited him here tonight because he loves him. He wants to spend time with him because he loves him.

Gods above, he loves him.

He—gods, he just tried to kiss him because he loves him.

He just tried to kiss him.

And he—

—oh, gods, he told him to wait.

“Patton—“ he tries to find him but it’s too late.

The second he meets his eyes, he’s met with a tidal wave of anguish, slammed quickly behind iron doors that fail to banish the hurt from his expression. It breaks his heart.

“I understand,” he says lowly, going to move away, “I understand—“

“No—please, listen to me, I—“

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says smoothly, his hand already leaving his face, “I understand. That was an abuse of power, it was not my intention to—“

“I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t want you to think that I—“

“The last thing I want is to pressure you into something you don’t want.”

“You don’t know I don’t want it!”

“I do!” His gaze flares sharply with anger, with hurt, seas of pain buried behind smiles and guarded expressions. He takes a deep breath and tries to force it away. “You told me to wait. And, forgive me, but I won’t wait to have my heart be broken all over again.”

“I’m not trying to break your heart—“ he scrabbles frantically for him— “please, just listen—“

“You don’t need to explain yourself, you never have, I understand that you don’t want me like that.” He lets him grab onto him but does not stop turning away. “But if you could give me a moment to collect myself, I—“

“I don’t know how to kiss!”

He freezes. “…what?”

His cheeks burn with the weight of his embarrassment and his unshed tears. “I don’t know how to kiss,” he repeats at a much more reasonable volume. He twists his hands in front of him. “I…you…I’m sorry, fuck, I’m making a mess of this.”

He buries his head in his hands, willing the tears to stay behind his eyes. As he looks up, he knows he’s going to fail as he spots the red-rimmed eyes staring back at him.

“Don’t ever,” he starts, voice wobbling a little, “don’t you ever believe that I don’t love you.”

His breath leaves him in a rush.

“Of course I love you,” he continues, growing stronger when he lets out a whimper and reaches for him, “of course I love you.”

“Then why—“ he grasps his shoulders, tighter than before, “why did you ask me to wait?”

The fountain bubbles and burbles, the soft smell of their drinks mixing with the sweet smell of the water. It’s warm here, in each other’s arms. It feels like home.

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” he confesses softly, “not like…not like that. It scares me.”

Patton shifts, not enough to hurt, just enough to hold Janus closer.

“I don’t know how to speak it.” His eyes fall closed, breathing in the warm smell of safe. “I don’t know what to do with it. And I—“

Patton gives his sides a gentle squeeze.

“…I am terrified of what normally comes after.”

“You don’t have to be,” comes the immediate reassurance, “not here, not with me. I won’t force you to do anything you’re not ready for. I will never ask anything of you that you wouldn’t give. Not until you want to.”

“…and what if I never want to?”

Janus feels his soft smile as he rests his chin on top of his head. “Then we won’t.”

“No?”

“No.” His forehead comes to rest against Janus’s once more. “But kissing doesn’t have to lead to that. It can just be a kiss.”

“It can?”

“Of course.” There’s a pause. “As that is the case…”

His eyes open. Is he…

“…are you asking?”

Patton pulls back just far enough to look him in the eyes.

“May I teach you how to kiss, my love?”

Janus’s breath leaves him in a rush. “Yes.”

They would say that it took a lot of work. And it did; getting back to a place where they could trust each other again, to live together again, was a slow progression. Over a year, at least, but there they were, working together against the problem, not each other.

But really, really it…

Well, Janus turned around, expecting to see Virgil, and saw Patton instead, blinking in confusion.

Patton mumbled something about Roman and Logan saying he should be here, a small smile growing when Janus says that Virgil and Remus did the same.

“…our kids, huh?”

“Our kids.”

Patton cautiously broached the topic of whether he remembered the fountain. Janus had smiled and said that how could he forget?

“…anything else you remember?”

And, well, maybe there was something to be said about the movies that Roman loved so much and everyone else pretended they didn’t.

Because as Janus wraps his hand around Patton’s hoodie and pulls him in, they could swear they could hear cheering and whooping all around them.

In fairness to the kids, they had an excellent reason for why they shouldn’t be grounded for lying about their after-school plans.

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[moonlit-han]

part ii: filled with sunshine

genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 11k part warnings: mature content (18+, specific warnings under the cut), suggestive, explicit language, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction. !! important !!: the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if they are of age. thank you. while the mature content is poetically described, it still exists. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.

~ read part 1 first! ~

✧ series masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

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mature content warnings: oral (giving, receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock-warming. again, please read only if you are of age.

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You woke around 10 am on Saturday morning and just lay there in bed, enjoying the memories of the night before. Everything had been hot and almost desperate, but somehow still gentle. And, there was something about not even making it to your bed because you wanted each other too much . . .. Your pulse quickened and you had to squeeze your legs together as you remembered the feeling of his hands exploring every inch of your body, the feeling of his mouth caressing you, that wonderful sense of almost flying. When you looked down at yourself under the sheets, you weren’t surprised to find bruises across your chest and stomach, and were quite glad that it was winter.

Before you’d done anything besides kiss, Jisung had been forthright in saying that he was disease-free and was very careful with who he was intimate with. (You were the one to bring out a box of condoms, since you never knew when you’d need to provide one). You were delighted that he was so aware and honest, clearly taking his actions seriously and taking responsibility for his part in any relationship. Just knowing that had made you relax and, almost, abandon yourself to each and every sensation. You’d made sure to tell him that you were polyamorous, too, making it clear that you were also safe in your habits. Once you’d gotten the talking out of the way, it hadn’t taken long for you to find that your new couch was, surprisingly, quite comfortable to be pressed into.

As he’d pulled his pants back on, Jisung had insisted that he go back to his apartment, saying he had to be up early to go over some notes on a song before meeting with Chan and Changbin at the studio. You also suspected that, despite the two of you just having sex on your couch, he was a bit shy now. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him—if it had all been planned, then maybe he would’ve stayed, but this was all too new, too unexpected.

After stretching to relieve the stiffness in your lower back, you went to shower and get dressed. When you sat down to eat, you brought your phone and that slip of paper with Jisung’s phone number on it so you could message him. It was only right that you did.

y/n: hey babe, last night was really fun

No, that wouldn’t work. I can’t call him “babe” after hooking up only once.

y/n: hi jisung! it’s y/n. just wanted to say than

No, that really wouldn’t work. Thanking him like that would just trivialize the whole experience.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n. last night was absolutely lovely and, let me say, you were fantastic! i’d love to

Nope, now I’m making him sound like a horse that had won a race or something. Damn.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n~ last night was really great and i’d love to see you again. maybe we could get together for dinner one night or to watch a movie? i want to get to know you better!

There. That was good. Okay . . . send!

You sighed, then promptly bolted out of your seat and hid your phone under a cushion on the couch. Not two minutes later, you heard the faint buzz signaling that you’d received a text message.

jisung: hey y/n! ah, i see you used that piece of paper after all ;) i had a lovely time, too! what’s your favorite movie, then? i can try getting it from the library on my way home. jisung: sorry, let me start that bit over again. i’m busy tonight, but are you free next saturday? i’d love to watch a movie with you.

You giggled at Jisung’s evident enthusiasm, and quickly responded.

y/n: yes, i’m free that night :) maybe surprise me with the movie? jisung: a surprise it is, then! your place or mine? y/n: yours? i’ve never seen your apartment and you’ve seen mine a lot… jisung: ….point taken. i’ll have to clean up a little, but i think you’ll like it :) y/n: what time should i come through the connecting door?

You sighed a little as you sent the text. It was more than a little weird that this was how you were going to see Jisung, especially when front doors existed. But, you figured it was only right that you go through that way a few times, since he’d been going back to his apartment like that for months.

jisung: is 7:30 ok? y/n: sure! i’ll see you then… babe ;) jisung: *blushes*

A small noise that sounded suspiciously like an excited “Eeep!” came from Jisung’s apartment, and you grinned, giggling again. Jisung was, to put it mildly, absolutely adorable. Hot, yes—far too hot for you to properly function around, if you were totally honest—but also sweet and lovely.  He was bright as the sun, seeming to practically radiate joyful light. And if last night was anything to go by, Jisung was quickly going to become a fixture in your life.

All that week, you couldn’t wait to see Jisung again and in a proper, arranged setting rather than as he was climbing through your window. You’d texted, flirting and just telling each other about yourselves. You learned that he loved being outside, just sitting in the sun or doing things with Chan and Changbin. He learned from you that you wanted to travel and study languages that were in danger of dying out. You bonded over a shared love of curling up with a good book or music or show, some tea, and having the world leave you alone. So, the idea of just watching a movie with him, spending time together in a simple but specific environment, sounded perfect to you.

Although, you did hook up twice more when neither of you could stand not getting your hands on each other again. Jisung was a kind and thorough lover, his personality vibrant and unaffected, and you enjoyed coming together simply for the sake of feeling amazing; you’d even taken to thinking of him as sunshine. You quickly found that you were sleeping better, and thought it might be nice if this sort of thing continued.

On Saturday evening, you found yourself impatiently waiting for 7:30 pm instead of doing small chores and reading some of the chapters you’d been assigned for your Poetry of Emancipation and Civil Rights course. It was maddening, especially when you heard Jisung get home and all you could think about was his smile. At 7:29 pm, you made your way into your bathroom and opened the little door in the wall. Jisung’s recent passage through the space within had cleared any cobwebs, but still there wasn’t much light. Whoever had split the old house into apartments had added this through-space for, presumably, plumbers to access the fixtures more easily, or maybe it was simply an anomaly in the construction. Either way, you now had a fascinating, new way to visit your neigh- your boyf- to visit Jisung.

Damn it, I can’t believe I’m doing this, you laughed at yourself and knelt to make your way into Jisung’s apartment. Before you could start, though, the door at the other end of the crawlspace opened and Jisung appeared.

“Hold on!” he said, and opened the door wider so that as much light as possible would shine through. Gratefully, you quickly made your way toward him—it really wasn’t a long space, only five steps crawling, but it was such an odd thing to do that you couldn’t help feel that it was much longer. When your head was out of the little passageway, you looked up to see a very strange look on Jisung’s face. It was the kind of expression one makes when something filthy is rocketing through one’s mind and it’s impolite to share those thoughts. Belatedly, you realized the position you were in and ducked your head.

When you’d fully emerged from the crawlspace, Jisung stood back and you clambered to your feet, brushing off your knees.

“Hey, babe,” Jisung said, winking.

“Hey!” You stood on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. “So, this is your bathroom.” Looking around, you noticed just how clean the room was—it wasn’t at all strange to appear there, with no odd smells, garish decor or anything out of place.

“Yep, this is my bathroom. Come see everything else—it’s much more interesting!” Jisung said, and hesitantly took your hand to lead you out into the rest of his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it had the same layout as yours, only mirrored.

When you got to the living room, you stared. Jisung had an electric keyboard, a guitar, a small desk, and a computer set up in one corner, clearly his space for practicing and composing. He’d gone for comfort more than anything else, with a sofa that had clearly been well-loved and a few beanbag-like nests. The light curtains would clearly let in plenty of sunlight during the day, and you noticed, with interest, the pile of blankets on one end of the sofa. The coffee table had gaming consoles and books scattered across its top, and a tall bookcase full of novels and music books, as well as sheet music, stood against the wall by the instruments.

The space was so different from your own, but it was the homiest living room you’d ever been in. You resisted the urge to flop down onto the sofa until you remembered that Jisung had been coming through your window . . . so you casually taking over his sofa would be a non-issue. He grinned when you sighed contentedly at the plushness of the cushions.

“You like it?” Jisung asked.

“Ji, I love it! The whole room’s so cozy and warm,” you said appreciatively, taking in every detail. Jisung just let you enjoy the room’s atmosphere, since he’d worked quite hard to make it so inviting and wanted you to appreciate it.

“Want some tea? I have, um, a lot,” Jisung grinned, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You nearly leapt off the couch and followed Jisung into the other room. “Oh my god, yes please!”

Jisung’s kitchen looked almost exactly the same as yours, except he didn’t have galaxy-themed tea towels. And, it was obvious to you that Jisung had his friends over more often than not, since two stools were stacked in the corner.

“Um,” Jisung prompted, “what kind would you like?” He pointed to a shelf with what had to be twenty boxes of different kinds of tea on it—to you, it looked like heaven. Seeing your awestruck look, Jisung added, “Take your time. I’ll just put the kettle on.”

After putting the water on to boil, Jisung came to stand behind you and, taking a deep breath as if to plunge into ice water, rested his chin on your shoulder. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his as if you’d been doing this together for years, rather than days. It was so easy to be with Jisung—everything just felt right. Thinking it was now or never, Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and you leaned into him, still deciding what kind of tea you’d like.

“Guess what . . .” Jisung said.

“Hmmm?” you said distractedly.

“You’re beautiful,” Jisung murmured, breathing shallowly because he still couldn’t believe you were just casually in his arms. How had he gotten this lucky?

“And you’re handsome,” you replied.

Jisung was most certainly smiling as he said, “Want to split a pot of jasmine?” You nodded and jumped as the kettle’s shrilling pierced your ears—you hadn’t realized you were standing there with Jisung, just looking at tea, for that long. Jisung kissed your cheek, making you squeal internally, and went to make the tea.

Five minutes later, the two of you were back in the living room and Jisung was setting up the movie. You sat with your feet up under you, holding your tea to your chest. The warmth felt lovely. Once Jisung had gotten his DVD player set up and the beginning credits of the movie had started, he came to sit next to you. As he leaned back with his tea in one hand, he yawned and theatrically put his other arm around your shoulders.

You giggled. “Jisung, you don’t need to feel nervous about us cuddling or anything,” you reassured him. “It’s not like I haven’t touched you. We’ve had sex, for god’s sake. Multiple times.”

“I just- I wanted to go slowly since simple, casual intimacy is different. Or, at least that’s how I think of it. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean we’re going to be absolutely compatible right off the bat.” Jisung’s touch on your shoulder was light, as if he didn’t want to startle you.

“Ji,” you said, snuggling into his side, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I feel more comfortable around you than some of the people I’ve known for three years.”

Jisung made a noise of disbelief. “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, and threw a leg over Jisung’s thigh. His breath hitched a little before he pulled you closer to himself, the two of you settling into a comfortable configuration of limbs. The movie was one you’d only heard of in passing, and hadn’t expected to like—but Jisung’s explanation of why he liked it made you actually enjoy it.

Two-thirds of the way through the film, Jisung’s hand gently caressing your shoulder became too much of a distraction and all you wanted to do was kiss him again. You’d long ago finished your tea, and now contented yourself with gazing at him, taking in the smooth line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the depression where his collarbone met the slope of his shoulder.

“I can feel you staring, Y/N,” Jisung said after a while, jolting you out of your daze. He paused the movie.

“Well, you’re kinda hot,” you countered.

“Yeah? How hot?” Jisung smirked, angling himself toward you.

“Very, very hot,” you whispered, craning your neck for a kiss. Jisung obliged, smiling.

Unlike your kisses the night before, this was slow and calm, like honey settling on ripe peaches. You slid forward to sit more squarely in Jisung’s lap as he tangled his fingers in your hair, the slight pull on your head feeling delicious. Each brush of his lips was soft and warm, and both of you took your time as you fell into the kisses, learning how gentle yet passionate the other could be. You moved your hands along his shoulders and chest, then up to cup his face, holding him like a priceless piece of art. Jisung hummed against your mouth, and drew you closer. Long minutes passed as you kissed, enjoying the simplicity of the connection, until you felt what seemed like a small fire ignite inside you.

Sensing your mood, as it reflected his own, Jisung said, “We’re not doing this on the couch again, Y/N. I have a bed, you know.”

You laughed—you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected things to go this way—after all, you’d worn some especially pretty lingerie—but the way Jisung had phrased it . . . he was almost pouting.

You pecked Jisung’s nose and said, “Lead on.”

Jisung didn’t bother asking you to get up or shift position—he just hooked an arm behind your knees and held the other at your back, and stood up. It was rather impressive, to say the least. He carried you to the bedroom, both of you giggling at the fact that you were really doing this, until you got to his room. Just like the rest of his apartment, it was cozy; there was no other word for it, especially with the soft faerie lights strung above the bed. You idly wondered if he always had them up or had just put them up in hopes the two of you would make it into his bedroom.

He sat down on the bed with you still in his arms, and resumed kissing you as if he hadn’t just carried you to an entirely different room. After a moment, you swiveled on Jisung’s lap so you were straddling his hips and wrapped your legs around him—his hands immediately went under your shirt, as if he’d been waiting to do just that.

“You really want to feel me up, don’t you,” you said, brows arched but smiling.

“Can you blame me?” Jisung’s voice was husky with desire. You just shook your head and pulled your shirt off, which made Jisung’s eyes widen. The lingerie was clearly doing its job. “Now who’s the hot one?” he asked, and ran his hands up and down your back as he continued kissing along your jaw and cheeks. His fingers finally stopped at the clasp of your bra and you breathed a “Yes.”

After a moment, Jisung leaned his head against your shoulder. “Y/N, um, it’s been a bit since I last did this…” His voice was so small and embarrassed.

“Aw babe, I’ve got it,” you said, stroking his hair. Jisung leaned back on his hands, watching you as you reached around yourself to unhook the clasp. You shrugged out of your bra and let it fall to the floor.

“You are so gorgeous, Y/N, you really are,” Jisung said, his voice low in awe.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks—you’d rarely, if ever, been admired like this, just bare before someone. “I- Um, I’m not sure what to say? Thanks?”

Jisung chuckled, saying, “You deserve every compliment I can give you,” and brought his hands back to your body. You were still as he trailed his fingertips up your stomach to cup the soft curves of your breasts, then brushed his thumbs over their peaks. You let out a shaky breath as Jisung began to kiss down your throat, over your sternum, and over each of the love bites he’d given you earlier in the week. He made certain to carefully add two more. You tangled your hands in his hair and sighed softly as he sucked, nibbled, and massaged, causing a tingling sensation to go straight to your core.

Jisung lifted his head briefly and, trailing a finger along his jaw, you said, “Your turn.” His shirt was off in one fluid movement and, again, you couldn’t believe you were actually with someone that beautiful.

“And you were saying I’m gorgeous? Jisung, oh babe, you should see yourself through my eyes.”

Jisung brushed his hair out of his face, looking intently up at you. “I can see myself in your eyes,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

You smiled as you gently pushed Jisung back onto the bed, but before you could lay yourself down on top of him, he said, “Let me take off my jeans off first—it’ll be easier, you know?”

You chuckled and decided to do the same—he was right, after all. You sat on the bed next to Jisung as he did some fascinating acrobatics to divest himself of his pants and pull the sheets down at the same time. Laying there in just his underwear, Jisung’s desire was painfully evident and you unknowingly licked your lips; however, this did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who grinned. He scooted back onto the bed so his legs weren't hanging off the side and lay back on his pillows, holding his arms out to you.

“Shall we?” he said with an exaggeratedly coy expression.

You crawled on top of him, feeling him hard beneath you, and leaned down to kiss him deeply, your breasts just grazing his chest. Your own desire roared through you like floodwaters surging along a river toward a dam, and you ground your core against him, seeking the one thing that would break that dam apart. Jisung moaned into your mouth, holding your hips so firmly his hands dug into your muscles. And in moments, you were both breathing hard.

Flashing a grin at Jisung as you broke from your kiss, you slid down his chest. You began at his throat, too, leaving kisses and hickeys all over him, eliciting soft moans from his lips. When you got to the waistband of his underpants, you looked up the hard planes of his stomach and chest to his face. “May I?”

“God, please, Y/N,” Jisung all but begged.

You deftly pulled his last remaining clothes down and off, admiring what was now revealed before you. Tracing the length and girth with your fingers, you placed a kiss right on the tip and Jisung hissed softly at the contact. You efficiently pumped your hand back and forth, feeling as if you were an earth goddess urging a seedling to grow, until he stood tall and proud as an oak. Slowly, you brought your lips to him, swirling your tongue a little, then bobbed your head up and down, occasionally letting your teeth graze his sensitive skin. A slightly salty taste that was still distinctly his own began to fill your mouth, and he twitched a little. And oh, Jisung’s moans—they were loud and needy, just a little breathy, and like music to your ears. He encouraged you, praising and saying how good it felt; at his words, you took a moment to simply run your hand over him, kissing the same path your hand took. Then, returning your mouth to its task, you quickened your pace and your throat soon felt raw. After a moment, you simply sucked the tip, flicking your tongue out, until Jisung’s gasps and cries were louder than ever.

“I’m so close, Y/N . . . Just like th- Aaaah! Fuck!” Jisung’s hips bucked, surprising you, but you continued, drawing as much pleasure from him as you could as you swallowed and swallowed. The sound of him coming undone made the ache between your legs intensify, and as Jisung came down from his high, panting, you crawled back up the bed next to him.

Jisung pulled you to him, and you knew he could taste himself on your mouth as you kissed again. His hands were quickly back on your hips, fiddling with the band of your panties. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses.

“Taste all you want,” you purred as his hand strayed lower.

He gave you a silly grin and, inexplicably, said, “Thank you.” You giggled.

Jisung wasted no time in flinging your panties nearly to the other side of the room, then tracing whirls over your stomach, going lower and lower. When you thought you might as well just take matters into your own hands, literally, Jisung slid his hand between your legs and you moaned.

“Mmmm, perfect,” Jisung smiled as he kissed just below your ear.

He seemed to want to feel each and every part of you, slowly exploring with first one finger, and then a second. In moments, you were wriggling and arching yourself toward him as his fingers danced. When he found that little bundle of nerves, rubbing it over and over, your hips bucked involuntarily. Fast, then slow, he coaxed you to the edge. Then, nothing.

“Oh no you don’t, Han Jisung,” you said, panting. “You are not stopping now.”

“Who said I was stopping?” Jisung said as he positioned himself between your legs, holding your thighs apart. You could still feel the blood pulsing through your veins and the ache inside was nearly maddening. He kissed all the way up your inner thigh, teasing you, then did the same along the other leg. You thrust your hips into the air, seeking some sort of friction.

Jisung smiled indulgently, then brought his mouth to you. His lips and tongue on your most sensitive parts felt so good you could barely think. Your moans were even louder than his had been, and you were glad that the neighbors typically went out on weekend nights. Jisung sucked that bundle of nerves like it was a hard candy and lapped at you like a kitten, clearly having the time of his life, before adding his fingers again. The combination had you begging for release, and all you could think was that this must be what it was like to be carried along a storm-swollen river to the edge of a waterfall.

“Oh, hhhhh, oh shit. Ji- Jisung, oh my god, hhhhh, oh god, fuck. Right there, oh f- Aaaah!”

Jisung crooked his fingers as he sucked, sending you hurtling out over that waterfall. Gasping and moaning, you shuddered, the coil of tension below your navel releasing. When he finally sat up, Jisung slowly licked each his fingers.

As you caught your breath, relishing the feeling of release, Jisung quickly went to his bedside table and you turned your head to see him sliding a condom on. He glanced at you, realizing he’d just assumed that you were okay with continuing.

“Jisung, just get back on the bed,” you said, forestalling his question, and Jisung did so, kneeling between your legs with an expectant look on his face.

“Well?” you said, looking up at him.

“I was just admiring you,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. Then, he straddled your hips and prepared himself before saying, “Ready?”

“Definitely,” you replied, an almost gleeful look in your eye.

You joined together little by little, Jisung letting you adjust, until he could go no further. You moaned at the feeling of such intimacy, the bright clarity of it—you felt like you were being filled with sunshine. “Ji, move,” you gasped, and he did.

Holding himself above you as you hooked your ankles behind his legs, Jisung began slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Then, the two of you moved as one, faster and harder, his hips finally snapping with as much power as he could muster.

Jisung buried his face in your neck as you urged him on. “Come on, Ji, right there. Oh, yes! Ah, that’s it. That feels so good, just like that.” You ran your hands all over his back, biting down on his shoulder as he finally hit the one spot inside that would surely bring your pleasure crashing down upon you again. Your nerves still singing from just moments before, you suddenly felt that coil inside you release as you clenched and unclenched, screaming Jisung’s name over and over.

“I still- I need—” Jisung gasped against your neck.

“Keep going,” you crooned, and held him to you as he chased his high, seeming to plunge deeper with each movement. A few moments later, Jisung’s hips shook and you felt him pulse as he dashed himself against the rocks at the foot of that waterfall of bliss. He shuddered, too, and lay against you, panting. You kissed his neck, his cheek, and his mouth as you both relaxed into each other’s arms.

After taking care of the condom, Jisung joined you back on the bed and you curled against him, still flushed with exertion. “That was—”

“Amazing,” you finished, turning to kiss him again. Jisung’s arm went around your shoulders and his other hand held your hip. You undulated your body against him gently, more for the slow, mellow comfort from the feel of his skin against yours than anything else.

“We should take a shower,” he said after a few more sweet kisses.

“Mmmm, that sounds perfect,” you agreed. “Can we just lay here for a moment, though?”

After several minutes, you suspected Jisung might fall asleep, so you gently kissed along his chest and said, “What about that shower?”

He chuckled and sat up with a groan. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go start the water.”

Once you’d showered together and lingered under the hot water, you lay side-by-side on Jisung’s bed, just tracing patterns into each other’s skin and occasionally kissing.

“I could get used to this, you know,” he said after you’d lain there for several minutes.

“Yeah? You mean us . . . just casually having sex? Or do you mean, like, dating?” you said, honestly not minding either way.

“I- Both, I guess?” Jisung paused. “But also just spending time with you, and being able to cuddle or do whatever when we need it. Casual comfort and companionship, and yeah, sex—keeping things open, you know?”

You looked up at him, thinking you understood now. “Do you mean having an open relationship?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, like we’re pretty much together but see other people but things are just kind of casual!”

You laughed lightly, glad that you were on the same page. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually,” you said. “I’m not really fussed about keeping things only between us—you know I’m polyamorous. I just feel like I’ve got a lot of love to give and that, while I am over the moon with happiness with you—”

“You are?” Jisung interrupted, turning his big doe eyes on you.

“Yes, Ji, of course,” you said, and continued. “But yeah, I just— I feel like I want to give as many people the affection and support they need, and to get all different kinds from them, as well as you. Just keeping things casual sounds perfect to me.”

Jisung rolled over onto his back, leaving you to rest your chin on his chest. He mindlessly stroked your hair. “Mmmm,” he sighed contentedly, “you know, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me who else you’re seeing, by the way. Not unless it gets serious and you’d like to actually date them, too. Then, it would be nice to know and meet them.”

“Oh my god, of course!” you exclaimed, your head jerking up sharply. “I wouldn’t hide something like that! I mean, if you’d like to share who we see super casually, I’m fine with that, too.”

“I trust you,” was all Jisung said.

“And I trust you,” you replied, kissing his chest above his heart. Suddenly, you were nearly practically overwhelmed by the tenderness you felt for Jisung, and shimmied your way onto his chest more solidly.

“Come here, angel,” he murmured, and pulled you fully on top of his body. Your bodies touching so completely made you feel like you were laying on a cloud. Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your head under Jisung’s chin, listening to his heartbeat as his arms went around you. You thought the best sleep you’d had was the other nights that week, but they could never compare to falling asleep with Jisung.

↠↞

Strolling toward you down the long walkway that wound through campus, looking like a cat who’d just been in the cream, came a young man with an all-too-familiar face: Bang Chan. He looked like the cold, December air didn’t bother him at all. You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and looked down at what were, in the summer, lovely gardens lining the path. It really was cold as hell and all you wanted to do was get home before dark when it would even colder.

“Y/N?”

Oh, no.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I thought it was you!” he called from, in your opinion, too far away. The people around you turned to look and you mentally cringed—you didn’t like drawing attention from large crowds.

“Hi, Chan,” you said, trying to plaster a smile onto your face.

“How’s the most beautiful woman on campus?” Chan said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Doing well? Staying warm?”

“I’m fine, Chan. And you?” You knew how you were talking was stilted and the words almost meaningless.

“A little busy, but great!” Chan responded blithely, falling into step with you. “How’s Jisung holding up? Is he still cooped up in his apartment? I think he said he was composing?”

“Oh, u-huh,” you said a little guiltily. You didn’t want to tell him that Jisung had, in fact, been in your apartment and in varying stages of undress, not composing at all hours. “I haven’t seen him much, actually, so I guess he has been composing. I think I heard him messing around on the guitar the other day.”

“Sometimes he gets like this,” Chan lamented, clearly playing for sympathy from you—sympathy he wouldn’t be getting because you, honestly, didn’t care much. Your time with Jisung was too good not to covet.

“I guess once he’s done whatever he’s working on you’ll see him more?” You wanted this conversation to be over—you were cold, there was a breeze, and it was Chan, of all people.

“I might just go over there and bug him, honestly.” Chan was thoughtful, and you had to stop yourself from vehemently dissuading him from stepping foot anywhere near your apartment. You’d have to mention to Jisung that Chan was probably stopping over and would expect to see some sort of headway on a composition, if that, indeed, was the excuse he’d been telling his friends to explain his occasional absences from their lives recently.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you, since you’re so close,” you reassured him, smiling uncomfortably. Chan still took no notice, happily looking around at all the other students passing by as you walked.

“He’s such an introvert, I’ve no idea if he’ll want to see me,” Chan laughed and stopped to let a group of freshman girls by, but didn’t resume walking once they’d passed. “But maybe I can come see you instead?” he said with a wink, and hope in his voice.

You began to stammer out a response, not even caring what you said as long as it amounted to “Hell no.” You pulled out your phone to, supposedly, check a message.

“Oh, sorry Chan. I have to go,” you lied. “A friend just texted saying she needs my help with something. I guess I’ll see you around.”

And with that, you made a speedy exit, Chan staring after you a little sadly. Why did his nerves have to get the best of him like that? He ended up coming off as mildly creepy instead of his normal, kind self. He’d have to work on that, since you clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Chan sighed, rubbing his brow, then headed toward the Performing Arts building and the privacy of the studio he shared with Jisung and Changbin. Maybe he’d be able to put what he felt into a song or something.

That night before bed, you messaged Jisung to tell him that Chan would probably be over that week.

y/n: ji, did you tell chan you were composing this week and that’s why you haven’t been with him and changbin? sunshine: ….maybe….why? y/n: well, chan found me today and asked me how your composition(s?) were going since i’m your neighbor. and i had to do some pretty fast talking there, han jisung >:| sunshine: shit…sorry y/n!! :(( sunshine: welp;;; i guess i’ll have to get going on that, then y/n: yaaaay good idea! also, why does chan insist on flirting so outrageously with me every single god damn time i see him? sunshine: oh. he’s been like that for awhile;; it’s a coping mechanism for when he’s nervous and he’s not always trying to actually flirt. although, with you he might be?? sunshine: please don’t hold it against him. he’s a good guy and i’d hate for you to dislike him y/n: oooooh okay okay that makes so much more sense now. i was getting kind of uncomfortable there for a minute. thank you for explaining that, babe. i understand him a lot better now and i promise i’ll try to get to actually know him!! sunshine: you’re not required to be friends with my friends, but thanks y/n: i know, but i still want to make the effort!! sunshine: you’re the best :D y/n: oh! um do you maybe need me to come over to be your ~muse~? sunshine: you already have been <3 y/n: if you don’t stop being adorable, i’m gonna come over there and kiss you sunshine: yeah? you’re gonna do that? hmmm? y/n: don’t test me…. i WILL come over and kiss you sweetly and tuck you into bed sunshine: i read that as “fuck you into bed.” OOOPS y/n: alkfhgakldjfgh y/n: just go compose, ji!!! i’ll come over tomorrow, if chan’s not there sunshine: your wish is my command, angel~ sunshine: make sure to get some sleep y/n: don’t stay up too late tho babe;;;; sunshine: i won’t, don’t worry y/n: okay hhhh goodnight, ji *kiss* sunshine: sweet dreams, angel *kiss*

As you fell asleep, you thought you could hear the faint strains of the guitar and Jisung’s voice floating over from the other apartment. Idly, you wondered if he was recording any of his ideas.

↠↞

On Wednesday afternoon, you got a text from Jisung inviting you to an ugly sweater party that would be hosted by one of his casual friends that weekend. And while you weren’t sure if any of your sweaters counted as ugly, you figured you should still have a fun night out. And because where Jisung was, Chan and Changbin wouldn’t be far behind, you knew they’d be there, too. You suggested that the two of you go together, especially since the house was only a couple blocks away from where you lived. So, at 8:17 pm on Friday, you bundled yourself into your coat and headed out the door.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Jisung striding toward you across the snowy lawn.

“Hi,” he said, drawing out the syllable as he gave you an enthusiastic hug and kissed your cheek.

“Jisung,” you said, stepping back, “where exactly is your coat? You do know it’s the middle of December, right?”

“I left it inside.” He grinned when you glared. “Eh, one of us has to be a little bit dumb sometimes.”

This earned him a gentle nudge in the shin from your foot, but you were both smiling as you set off toward the party.

As you approached the house, Jisung kissed your hand. “I, um, haven't told Chan and Changbin that we’ve been seeing each other.” At your surprised look, he shrugged. “I’ll see you later tonight, angel,” he said, then darted up the stairs with a wink thrown over his shoulder. You shook your head—sometimes, Jisung was a little odd.

When you stepped through the front door, it was obvious that the party had already been going for at least an hour. People crowded the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, and some were even on the stairs. Fairly mellow music played in the background, and when you looked toward one end of the living in which a table was set up between two speakers, you saw none other than Chan. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

Squirming between the people lounging against the kitchen’s doorframe, you finally made it in and went to where drinks had been laid out on the counter. You grabbed a fresh cup for yourself, pouring some hard cider out of a fresh can, and then, rejoined the main part of the party. Not exactly wanting to talk to a lot of people you didn’t know, you found a window with a deep enough sill that you could sit in it. For almost a half hour, you watched the partygoers and slowly sipped on your cider.

Occasionally, you’d look over at Chan behind his computer, portable mixing board, and more wires and cables than you knew could exist. Now that you knew he wasn’t actively trying to be unnecessarily flirtatious, you could see yourself getting to know him. After all, he was Jisung’s friend and well known around campus—people were too focused on holding others to high moral standards, despite lowering their own, not to watch someone like Chan like hawks. You would’ve heard if he wasn’t a great person, and you knew Jisung wouldn’t be friends with a jerk.

In the low lighting of the living room, the lines of Chan’s cheekbones stood out as he bowed his head in concentration to find just the right level of bass to thrum through your bones beneath the soft strains of melody. You found yourself completely enthralled; that is, until Jisung eclipsed your view as he flitted from group to group like a hummingbird. And just when you thought you should probably socialize, two women who wore matching, utterly horrible sweaters chose to stand nearby. Since their sweaters were so atrocious, you thought their conversation might be interesting.

“3racha?” one of them asked in response to a question you hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, I really thought they’d be here, but I haven’t seen them,” the second woman whined.

“Maybe they’re busy?” the first one suggested.

“Or, ladies,” a pleasantly husky voice said, coming up behind them, “you could open your eyes and realize that Chan’s behind the table tonight. You’re listening to one of our new songs.” The two 3racha fans gaped at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to talk to the person in the window here.” He slid past them. “Thanks.”

You looked up from your drink into the handsome face of Changbin, who was wearing a black sweater with…

“Pink, sparkly cats? You?” you said, not believing your eyes.

“Hey, I like cats,” Changbin protested. “And who cares if they’re pink and sparkly? They have cute little noses—see?” He moved closer to you, pointing to the cats.

“Yes, very cute little noses,” you laughed and took a sip of your cider. “So, what’s up, Changbin?”

“Eh, not much. I finished my exams early—thank god. You?”

“I’ve been really good, actually,” you said brightly. “You’re lucky—I still have all of mine next week.”

“Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great,” Changbin beamed at you. “Hey, it’s pretty stuffy in here—want to go out on the porch for some fresh air?”

You nodded and stood to follow him.

A couple heads turned, probably those people who recognized Changbin and thought of him as a local celebrity or something, as you slipped by along the wall leading to the back door. Changbin held the door open for you and you inhaled the cold night air, welcome after the heat inside from so many bodies pressed together.

Changbin sighed gratefully next to you, sitting down on the top step and patting the spot next to him. “Join me?”

You sat, surprised that you could feel the warmth radiating from Changbin even sitting a foot away. Together, you stared out over the lawn where the footprints of those who lived in the house crossed each other to form unintentionally intricate patterns.

“Y/N?” Changbin said hesitantly after a few minutes. “Would you be interested in listening to the demo of a song I’ve been working on?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I know you’re not a music major,” he continued, “but that’s exactly why I’m asking this. I could use some fresh ears on it.”

You were flattered that Changbin had asked you, but . . . “Why me?” you asked. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people you know far better than me. Not to sound rude, but we’ve only met maybe three times.”

“Like I said, that’s exactly it,” Changbin insisted, taking out his phone. “You don’t know my—3racha’s—music. So, you’re the perfect person to give an unbiased and new opinion!”

“Well, when you put it like that . . .” you mused, and scooted just a little closer to Changbin. You could have sworn he blushed.

After a moment of fiddling with his phone, he said, “Here. Sorry I don’t have headphones or a speaker or something with me.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to hear just fine.” You leaned forward as Changbin, grimacing at the first bars of the demo, held up his phone between you; then, you just concentrated on the music.

Meanwhile, Changbin felt like he was about to run and hide. You were mere inches from him, hair swinging down into your face as you listened intently. It was as if time had stopped completely, and you and he were the only people on Earth. He desperately tried not to stare as your mouth, lips parted slightly, quirked up in a smile at the lyrics. And if he noticed how your sweater hugged your body in just the right places, and how he’d like to be hugging those places, too, he promptly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. As you seemed more and more entranced by the music, his music, Changbin had the wild urge to lean forward and ki—

“Changbin, this is incredible!” you said as the song ended, your eyes gleaming in the light of the porch light as you turned to him. Suddenly, you realized just how close you were to Changbin—it would be so easy to just lean your head on his shoulder. You mentally shook yourself. “I had no idea you guys were producing music like this. And this is just a demo?”

Still reeling from being utterly stunned by your beauty, Changbin started. “I— Yeah, it’s just the demo. That last song that was playing inside was actually one of ours. Chan just slips them into whatever mix he’s DJ-ing at events.”

You beamed, impressed and excited. “So, I honestly can’t think of anything I’d want to change about that song, other than . . . maybe even out the lead up to the chorus? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Changbin reassured you, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, how about you come by the studio one day? I’d be able to make the edits with you there, and I think I might have another song you could help with.” At your surprised look, Changbin added, “But only if you want to. I don’t mean to pressure you, sorry.”

“I’d love to,” you said simply, and meant it. You looked down at your lap. “I don’t know much about composition, but I think it would fun to learn. Plus, if Jisung likes you and Chan, then you must be cool. And talented!”

Changbin gave you a searching look and you said quickly, “I mean, we’re neighbors and all, so we talk or see each other randomly and he always mentions you!”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’d like to live up to your expectations,” Changbin said self-consciously. He stood abruptly and you did as well, fiddling with your cider cup.

“Changbin?” you said before he could take another step toward the door, and he froze like you'd captured him in one of the ice sickles that hung from the roof. “How- how should I get in touch with you?” And just as you said it, you remembered the little slip of paper that was left on your coffee table that first time you’d met 3racha. Oh.

“I thought I gave you my number already,” Changbin chuckled, looking like one of the cats on his sweater that had just gotten into the cream.

You took a breath. “Right. Yeah, I remember now.”

“Just text me when you’re free and we can figure out when you want to come by to listen to more music.” Changbin stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving you a small smile.

“Oh, okay,” you agreed. “I guess I’ll text you tomorrow!”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Changbin said lightly, and winked before turning to open the door. “Come on, you look half frozen,” he said, his voice soft with not a trace of mockery in it.

You were cold and as you walked through the door back into the warmth, you tried to ignore the feeling of being pulled toward Changbin like you were two halves of a magnet. It was a new feeling, being drawn to someone so forcefully, and you were more than intrigued.

↠↞

When you got home from the party, you gratefully sagged onto your couch, glad to be away from all those people. After just sitting for long minutes, you got up and changed into your wonderfully soft and plush robe—it was one of the things you’d bought for yourself just because you could, just so you could have something nice. Then, you made tea and curled on the couch again; you’d only had the one drink that didn’t even have much alcohol in it, but you were still tired from being around that many people. So, you just sat and enjoyed your tea, letting your thoughts wonder.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice came down the hall into your living room, since he’d slipped through via the bathroom. He saw you curled on the couch in your robe with your mug of tea, and paused before entering the room. The simple domesticity of the tableau was so sweet that it stirred his desire to, someday, have a lovely home with the one he loved where things would be happy and calm. And right then and there, Jisung knew that he was definitely developing feelings for you. “Hey, you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you.

“Hey,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t stay too long—did you at least have an okay time tonight?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah, it’s always fun to see people in horrible sweaters,” you chucked. You proffered your tea to him. “Want some?”

Jisung took the mug and sipped delicately from it, sighing as the tea warmed his insides. “So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie like we said?”

“Mmmm,” you thought for a moment, cupping the back of Jisung’s neck and running your fingers through his hair. “How about we watch a couple episodes of that show I was telling you about, then take a bath together. I could really use the relaxing heat from the water.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect, angel,” Jisung sighed. “Can I grab your computer so we can watch, then?” He stood and looked around for the device. “Where’d you hide it this time?”

“Sorry,” you said, smiling ruefully. “It’s on the floor in my bedroom.”

Jisung retrieved your computer and set it on the coffee table in front of you, gently massaging your back as he waited for you to sign in and pull up the video streaming site. The only light in the room came from a small lamp you had in the corner, which cast a warm glow over everything. Jisung leaned into the nook where the couch’s back and arm met and you snuggled in beside and on him as he pulled you against his chest. He was warm and soft, and you felt entirely at ease—more at home with him than you’d felt with anyone else. As the second episode began, Jisung began lazily tracing circles up and down your arm, occasionally passing over your cheeks. Once or twice, he ran a finger along your lips, making them tingle. It was more than a little distracting and it wasn’t long before you felt a faint tingle of desire. Jisung’s body, which had been so relaxed before, was now filled with a low-level energy that made him feel like his blood was vibrating.

You twisted round to look up at him, a questioning look in your eyes, and he leaned forward to pause the show before capturing your lips with his. You smiled against his mouth and Jisung hoisted you further up onto his lap so you were almost sitting sideways. His tongue darted out to swipe along the crease of your mouth, and you gladly let him in, your tongues sliding by each other as you pressed yourself closer to Jisung. His hand on your waist began to travel upward as he kissed down your neck and along your shoulder, and you sighed at the warmth of his skin.

“You’re not wearing anything under that robe, are you?” Jisung said, pulling back and giving you a mischievous look.

“Nope!” you chirped innocently, and kissed his nose. Jisung’s eyes darkened as his pupils blew wide with desire.

“Oh, angel,” Jisung growled faintly as he ran his hand down your stomach to between your legs. As you continued to kiss, he chuckled faintly and pulled aside the folds of your robe to slide his hand up your inner thigh. His slow teasing soon had you moaning and wriggling, and it was obvious that he simply wanted to enjoy touching you, making you squirm just that little bit. But, he never brought you close to release—that wasn’t the point.

When you’d had enough of his teasing, you murmured, “Ji, let’s take the bath.” You had to concentrate to keep speaking as he moved his fingers in a particularly satisfying way. “The water will feel amazing and we’ll be relaxed,” you said, adjusting your position on his lap. Jisung groaned, and let you rise before following you out of the room.

While the tub filled higher and higher, you let your robe drop to the floor, and your body reacted to the cold air coming through the ever-open window. Jisung, his clothes already thrown in a heap in the corner, stared at you like you were Aphrodite herself. Ignoring the various thoughts swirling around in his head, Jisung stepped into the tub and was surprised at how hot it was, but sank down into the water nonetheless. “Come on, angel,” he said, patting his lap and making small waves in the water. “I’ve got a comfy seat here just for you.” He winked.

Grinning, you stepped in after him and the water splashed a little as you sat down, making both of you giggle. You talked about your week and how classes were going, always skirting around the topic of exams. It wasn’t long before you’d completely exhausted all college-related conversation; it simply wasn’t romantic. You lay back against Jisung, who slid lower into the water and put his hands on your hips. Your hands went automatically over his, and the two of you simply reveled in the warmth of the water and the feeling of being skin-to-skin. 

Before long, the slight pressure against your low back became more insistent, until you turned to Jisung and said, “How about I keep you nice and warm, babe.”

“Sounds lovely.” Jisung murmured against your hair and carefully guided your hips down onto his waiting member. You groaned as he filled you up, the ache you hadn’t even known you’d felt all day suddenly satisfied.

“Oh god, yes,” you breathed and leaned your head back, exposing your neck for Jisung to kiss and nibble.

You gently wiggled your hips and settled, simply enjoying the sensation of being full. The hot water swirling around you felt like velvet caressing your skin. Turning slightly with your head still on his shoulder, you found Jisung’s mouth with yours and your kisses were as lazy and languid as the warm sunlight of a summer morning. You occasionally rocked your hips against Jisung’s gently, feeling him deep inside. And when you teased him like that, he would simply press himself further against you and you’d moan, kissing him harder.

Nothing was rushed or intense—just the feelings of warmth and being together, connected. You reveled in the pure sensations, relaxing into Jisung’s hold more every second. He had one hand on your hip, gently massaging the muscle there, and the other roving over your body, depending on his whims. Your fingers tangled in his hair, carding through it as you kissed. All of your attention was focused on Jisung—your point of connection with him, his hands on you, his soft mouth—and you filled his world, too, blotting out all else like a solar eclipse.

↠↞

“Bin, you said we’d meet Jisung here. Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be at home?” Chan said, clearly having to concentrate on enunciating his words more carefully than usual. He and Changbin were standing on the front step of Jisung’s apartment, waiting impatiently for their best friend to open the door. It was cold.

“Dunno.” Changbin gestured expansively. “He said we should come over, right? There aren’t many places he’d go.” Then, Changbin blanched. “You don’t think he was kidnapped or something, do you?”

“Oh come on, you’re drunk,” Chan scoffed.

“You are, too!” Changbin retorted.

“Yeah, but at least I’m not hyplerbizing. . . No, hyperblazing. Shit.” Chan looked blankly down at the snow for a second, his friend being absolutely no help at all as he frantically texted Jisung. “Got it! Hyperbolizing. Yeah, at least I’m not hyperbolizing.”

“I’m not,” Changbin insisted. “I’m just being sensible. Jisung barely ever ducks out on stuff, so why now? He was at the party, for god’s sake. We saw him— What, two hours ago?”

Chan leaned on the doorframe and sighed. “Well, I guess there’s only one option, then.”

“Yeah?”

“We go through the window.” Changbin gave him a blank look. “You know,” Chan continued, “Y/N’s bathroom window! Jisung said he’s gone through there to get to his apartment, and maybe she’ll know where he is. They’ve gotta at least keep in touch if they’re neighbors.”

Changbin spluttered. He couldn’t believe Chan had just suggested that they, for lack of a better phrase, break into your apartment. But then again, maybe you did know where Jisung was—it was worth a try.

So, Chan and Changbin made their way around to the other side of the house, trying not to look suspicious, and found the window that was cracked slightly open. Soft light poured from it, lancing across the bare ground below. And, there was the conveniently placed log, now fallen on its side. It didn’t look like Jisung had come through this way for awhile.

“Chan, are you sure about this?” Changbin whispered.

“Well, you wanna go hang out with Jisung, yeah?”

“Fine, yes,” Changbin grumbled.

Chan hopped up onto the log and pulled himself up to peek in the window. He was completely still for a moment, then put his feet back down and, with an indiscernible look on his face, motioned to Changbin.

“What? Is it locked or something?” Changbin asked, confused. Chan just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and motioned for Changbin to take his spot on the log.

“Boost me up?” he said to Chan, who gave him a wild look, but held out his hands for Changbin to step on anyway.

When Changbin’s head rose above the window, he stared. You were laying there in the tub, naked and lithe as a cat. But you weren’t alone. Jisung, his best friend Han Jisung, was in the tub with you. And you were kissing, Jisung’s hands all over you. As he beheld your form, Changbin felt like he was about to burst apart into a thousand pieces. Unable to tear his eyes away, Changbin saw you undulate your hips against Jisung’s and heard you sigh wantonly. You were completely engrossed in each other, unaware of your silent audience.

You let out a loud moan and Changbin’s hands, cramped from the cold and clutching the windowsill, betrayed him so he nearly lost his grip. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the house’s siding. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but his mind was full of smooth skin, water, and the sound of your sighs. Fuck. We shouldn’t be here.

But just at that moment, Chan chose to actually boost him up toward the window and, because Changbin was shocked at seeing you naked in a bathtub with Jisung, he toppled forward.

↠↞

The feeling of almost unraveling but never quite tipping over the edge was absolutely delicious, and yet having nothing between you and Jisung was even better. Your eyes were closed, focusing on the sensations, rather than trying to see anything, and you gasped against every so often. Jisung gently bit down on your shoulder whenever you did.

You were resting your full weight back against Jisung’s chest, simply enjoying the feel of him touching you everywhere possible. Then, you felt Jisung twitch inside you as you ground against him, and he began to thrust up into you with more regularity. A particularly loud moan escaped your lips, the ache deep inside pulsing, just as you heard a scuffling sound from outside.

“Ji? What was that?” you asked, your eyes flying open.

“It’s probably just some raccoons,” Jisung said offhandedly.

“Hmmm,” was all you replied and closed your eyes again. You held onto his knees for support as Jisung’s pace increased, making little waves dance in the tub.

And then . . .

It seemed like all hell broke loose as a body crashed through the slightly open window. You shrieked in surprise and Jisung yelled, “What the fuck?” All sense of arousal gone, you froze before peeking above the rim of the bathtub.

You had a distinct sense of deja vu as, yet again, you saw a young man sprawled on your bathroom floor.

Shit.

Shit!!

Belatedly, you realized that you were, indeed, naked, and you were in the bath. With Jisung. And you were still sitting on his dick, which now seemed to have a mind and agenda of its own. Oh, and it was freezing now that the window was fully open, making you feel like someone had pulled the skin on your chest taut as a bowstring.

“Seo Changbin, what the actual fuck?!!” Jisung almost, almost, bellowed as he firmly held you in place on his lap, not wanting his friend to notice anymore than he already had.

“I—” Changbin stammered, but was cut off as Jisung yelled again, seeing another face at the window.

“Chan, too? What the hell?! I just— What the hell?” As much as he might have seemed angry, you could feel Jisung laughing silently as he took in the situation.

“Fuck,” was all Chan said as his gaze took you in, and you pulled your legs up in front of yourself in some, futile, attempt to hide your nakedness.

“Well?” Jisung demanded.

“We were looking for you, bro,” Changbin said from the floor. “We had plans!”

“And you said you climb through Y/N’s window all the time!” Chan added . . . helpfully.

“I told you I had something going on tonight.” Jisung sighed and grumbled, “But I guess you didn’t remember that.” Then, rolling his eyes Jisung said, “How much did you two drink, anyway?”

“Hey, don’t be like that, man,” Chan said, still peering through the window. “It wasn’t that much!”

“Bullshit,” you said, speaking for the first time.

“Okay, whatever. You’re right,” Changbin grumbled from the floor, looking a little ill.

“Both of you: Get. Out.” Jisung’s voice was firm, but he still couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice.

“Can’t we go through the little door?” Chan said hopefully.

“Y/N?” Changbin implored you, eyes wide.

“Fine. Just go through the damn door so you can get out of my fucking bathroom!” Your voice rose and you crossed your arms over your chest.

Once Chan had climbed through the window, catching a sleeve on the windowsill in the process, and Changbin had retrieved Jisung’s keys from his pants, the two of them squeezed through the passageway to Jisung’s apartment. You tried your best not to giggle at how much they looked like those same raccoons Jisung had mentioned earlier, practically falling over each other as they rushed to get out of the bathroom.

“I’ll be over at some point,” Jisung called after them. “Good riddance,” he said more quietly to you.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you huffed out in a laugh.

“Yeah, I can’t either,” Jisung groaned. “But I’m not surprised. That’s those two in a nutshell, honestly.”

You leaned your head back against Jisung’s shoulder again and sighed. He was still inside you, and you were suddenly glad that you’d been facing forward when Chan and Changbin had appeared. Completely unable to resist Jisung’s soft skin, you nuzzled his jaw.

“Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag,” you shrugged.

“They’ll never let me live it down,” Jisung replied, burying his face in your neck.

“Nope, they won’t!” you giggled and pecked Jisung’s cheek.

[tooruluv]

Kozume Kenma x F!Reader x Tetsurou Kuroo ( part 1 )

❝ i’m right here, when are you going to realize that i’m your cure, heartbreak girl? ❞

description: kozume kenma didn’t know the exact day in which he realized that he was in love with you. he knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you. the problem was, though, that you were in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

genre: angst, pining, unrequited love, (characters are aged up as the story continues)

word count: 2,373

warnings/notes: hey all! this one doesn’t really have any warnings, just strong language and lots of angst. i changed up my writing style just a bit for this one, and i’m quite proud of it so please leave me as much feedback as possible!! let’s start another journey, this time with kuroo and kenma ;)

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masterlist

“ i’m right here, when are you going to realize? ”

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

Kozume Kenma couldn’t pinpoint the exact day in which he realized that he was eminently in love with you. He knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you.

The problem was, though, that you were eminently in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

The first day that Kenma met you, he had to take several seconds to process. You were the only person, the only girl, that made him have to catch his breath at the mere sight. You were brighter than the sun, shined blue like the moon. You were stunning. 

And you had your arm wrapped around Tetsurou Kuroo’s.

“Kenma!” Kuroo had called from across the room, waving at his friend. Kenma complied, phone in hand and moving through the crowds without so much as lifting an eye.

Kenma was dragged to a party with the volleyball team. It isn’t that he hated people, nor was he shy. He just didn’t see the point in pretending to enjoy something that wasn’t his thing. He never understood the desire most teens had in wanting to do stupid things and interact all of the time. It sounded exhausting. 

“Kenma, this is my girlfriend.” Kuroo introduced you. And Kenma looked up to meet your eyes.

“Hello!” You greeted with a smile. You had to talk a bit louder than normal over the party’s music. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad we finally get to meet!”

“Same.” was Kenma’s reply. Though he wanted to say more. 

As Kuroo continued to talk to the both of you, Kenma couldn’t help but watch you from his peripheral vision. You were, in simple terms, the most beautiful person he had ever met. How you managed to be so utterly taken with Kuroo he would never understand. 

You kept one hand on Kuroo’s arm the entire time. Kenma could only define his feelings as jealousy.

Of course, he pushed those feelings down. Because he couldn’t possibly be in love at first sight. To his best friend’s girlfriend, of all people. No. Absolutely not.

When Kenma retreated to a corner of the house later that night, it was you who found him and sat beside him on the floor. He looked up from his game.

“Don’t stop on my account.” You told him, pulling out your phone. “Not one for parties?”

“Never have been.” He brought his head further down to shield his face with his hair. “I’m always dragged here by the team.”

“Yeah, I’m only here to meet Kuroo’s friends.” You admitted. He didn’t know if it was true or if it was a way to initiate conversation to get on his good side for your boyfriend. Either way, he turned his head to catch your (beautiful) eye. “But he decided that trying to beat Bokuto at the keg is his mission for the night.” 

“Ah.”

With that, the both of you became closer. You met up with them at lunch, called him over discord to play games while both of you were at home. And Kenma felt himself falling harder and harder.

Oh, and he became your shoulder to cry on.

Because Tetsurou Kuroo might’ve been an amazing guy, a great team leader and captain, and an incredible friend; but he was a terrible boyfriend.

You were his first girlfriend, so there was room for learning and growth and improvement. But there were also faults in trying to build something that had no foundation.

A couple of months passed, and the honeymoon stage had come to an end, was the first fight.

The reason behind the fight was long forgotten by now, but it had to do with communication. A joke turned into seriousness that it hadn’t meant to be, and it ended in a heated argument between you both. He had ended up calling you an awful name, so you left. 

Kuroo called after you, instant regret and apologies rushing off of his lips, but you were already gone. 

You ended up at Kenma’s. You knocked on his door with tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. How could he have said no?

With a small voice, you asked, “Can we just play games, please?”

“Of course.” Kenma replied without asking anything else. 

He sat on his bed and you sat in a beanbag as you played a game on his TV. He didn’t say anything when he watched you cry silent tears. Instead, he handed you a juice and bag of chips. 

You accepted, pretending that there weren’t tears streaming down your red face. Because he knew you, and knew that if you didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t pressure you to. 

“Mario Kart?” He offered. 

“Oh, you want to lose?” You quipped. A quirk in the corner of your lips. 

Even a small smile from you made him feel better. And fall harder. 

When you returned home that night, Kuroo stood in the exact spot you had left him in. He immediately sent you a thousand apologies, voice choked. You forgave him before he even spoke 

All relationships are rollercoasters, to say the very least. They have their ups and downs, their fast and slow parts, their beginning and end. Your relationship with Kuroo was definitely one of twists and turns. 

Kenma sat on the sidelines and watched it all with a knot in his stomach. He held it down, further and further with each passing day.

Immediately after one intense game that they inevitably won, Kenma searched for you. You rushed from the crowd and into your boyfriend’s arms, congratulating him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Kenma wondered if the two of you had kissed at that point, you had been together for a month. He had to stop himself from going down that rabbit hole. 

It was when you turned to him that Kenma’s entire world was put on pause. You were the only thing that could move. 

“Congrats Kenma!” You cheered, bringing him in for a hug. Kuroo chuckled beside you as Kenma just stood with his arms at his sides, completely paralyzed. “You were amazing! What the fuck! That last play…”

Your voice was drowned out. You pulled away to talk more about how great he did during the game. But he couldn’t listen to the praise coming from your tongue. He just couldn’t.

Once you were out of earshot, Kuroo turned to him. With a big dorky smile on his face, Kuroo asked, “She’s the best, isn’t she?”

“Sure.” Kenma replied, but he wanted to go on and on.

Becoming very good friends with Kozume Kenma resulted in a lot of third wheeling. Not that you would ever intentionally exclude him. In fact, you tried to make sure that he was a part of everything the two of you did. Even if it was just something as little as an invite.

The third wheeling mainly consisted of Kenma’s aching heart as he endured the presence of the two of you. Every time that he would catch a glimpse of your hand in Kuroo’s, or Kuroo’s hand on your thigh, or a quick kiss on the cheek, Kenma couldn’t help but wish that it was him instead.

Kuroo caught him staring, once.

He was dragged to a bonfire with the team, and he dreaded every second of it. He never understood why people would enjoy sitting around a fire and being eaten by bugs. He also didn’t like marshmallows.

You were sitting on Kuroo’s lap on a lawn chair, legs draped over his and your body curved into his side. Kenma couldn’t help but watch as he said something into your hair and you laughed, smacking Kuroo’s chest.

Kuroo found Kenma’s gaze. He sent him an oblivious smile and waved him over, thinking that Kenma was feeling awkward about sitting on the sidelines. Oh, how close he had been to the truth.

“Hey, Pudding Head.” Kuroo teased. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You looked up from your position on his lap, and Kenma thought of a million things at once.

“Yeah.”

Kuroo offered the seat beside him, and Kenma accepted. Kuroo knew him better than anyone, this was something that he knew for certain. He wondered if his feelings for you had been obvious. Kuroo never brought it up.

The rest of the night consisted of Kenma pretending to not be affected by your whispering and giggling with his best friend.

Kozume Kenma remembers one specific moment of his love more vividly than the rest.

You were at his house, hanging out on a day off. There were no tears, no anger or sadness towards your boyfriend. It was just a good time with just the two of you. Kuroo had something with his family, so he wasn’t present.

He didn’t remember exactly how the two of you ended up in this position, but he would not complain.

Your head laid in Kenma’s lap, hair fanned out along his thighs. You were watching him beat this game he just got, eyes focused on the screen. Kenma sat against the wall on his bed, arms on either side of your head with his controller in his hand in his best attempt to not touch you.

“Why don’t you like to touch me?” you asked him.

The question caught him off guard, and he had to hide the surprise on his face. “Hm?”

“Don’t pretend I haven’t noticed.” You shifted to look up at him. Kenma had to adjust his legs to hide something he didn’t think you wanted to see. “I figured that you might be a germaphobe or something, because you always seem to keep your distance or freeze up when I grab your wrist or hug you. But I don’t think you are one, considering you play volleyball with a bunch of sweaty men.”

“I. Um.” Kenma paused the game and looked down at you. Searching for excuses, racking his brain for any fake plausible answer that he could give you instead of I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with you and every time that the two of us make contact I feel like a firework about to explode (and it goes straight to a different part of me that I do not wish to discuss with literally anyone). Because that would go over well. 

With the little thoughts he could muster, he lied, “I’m not used to girls voluntarily touching me.”

You accepted his answer, nodding with your head still against his thighs. He looked down to see that you were already staring back up at him. “What?”

“I was just wondering why girls weren’t throwing themselves over you.” You sent him a smile. He wanted to die. “You’re a catch. I promise I’ll be more careful if me touching you makes you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” Kenma quickly added. Maybe a little too quickly. “This,” he gestured to the current position the two of you laid in. “This doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I guess some things just take time.”

You smiled at him again. That stupid, gorgeous smile. “One day you’ll be so comfortable with me that you won’t even notice if I kiss you.”

The world was testing him. The gods were playing a game with him. He returned his attention to the game, hoping he wouldn’t collapse on the spot.

One night, around half a year into your relationship, Kenma received a call at the asscrack of dawn. Groggily, he answered without looking at the caller.

“Hello?” He asked, voice heavy in sleep. Who would call him at this time? On a school night, no less.

“Kenma.” His ears perked up at your voice. He sat up. “Kenma, please give me some advice.”

It was the first time that you had ever wanted to talk about a fight. True, it was only the third time, but it meant the world to him that you wanted to talk about it. Even if the sun wasn’t even up yet and he had several hours left to sleep.

“What happened?”

A sniff. He was going to kick Kuroo’s head, he decided.

“I just… how do you deal with someone who refuses to talk to you?” You paused, as if you were trying to put together your words. Kenma waited. “Kuroo is great most of the time, but he leaves me hanging so much. I can go the entire weekend without so much as a text. And today something had happened, I knew it the second I saw the look on his face. But he just won’t talk to me. And today,” Another sniff. “Today, I brought it up and he was really dismissive and told me that I didn’t need to be so clingy. Clingy.”

Kenma had to stop himself from saying something like, if you were with me I would love it if you were clingy.

“Kuroo’s an idiot.” Kenma told you. “He doesn’t know how to talk about things that he actually needs to talk about. Next time you talk to him, tell him how his actions make you feel rather than what he needs to change. You’ll get into his brain easier, it’ll click with him.”

You paused again. Taking his words in. “Thank you. Thanks for being a friend.”

“Of course.”

Friend. Because that was all he would be, all that he could be.

[sugawarasnjgga]

storms w/sugawara

hey guys, i'm back with another story featuring sugawara (aka. my fuckin cinnamon apple)!! this was requested by a lovely anon and i'm so glad i got this request bc suga is my favorite (wow tell us something we don't know). this one's for you anon, i hope you all enjoy!! i kinda hate the ending though so bear with me

- arson >:)

sugawara x gn reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: very slightly suggestive moment, but it's all fluffy otherwise ;)

also before this starts: cerounophile = lover of thunderstorms

thunderstorms have always been something you’ve adored. even when you were little, and most other kids in your class ducked under tables, trying to hide away from the loud crashes and rumbles, you always sat there, staring starry-eyed out the window of your classroom. to you, there’s no better feeling than grabbing a blanket and curling up near the window to revel in the beautiful display of nature, and every time you hear that familiar boom, you feel at home.

It was a saturday evening, and you sat in your living room mindlessly flitting through the channels on your tv, when you felt your phone vibrate. your reach into the pocket of your boyfriend’s oversized hoodie and smile upon checking the notification:

[koushi <3: just picked up dinner, be home in ten ;)]

[can't wait :))] you respond.

just as you rise to go set the table, a weather alert pops up on the tv:

BREAKING NEWS: SEVERE THUNDERSTORM EXPECTED AROUND 7PM IN MIYAGI PREFECTURE, ALL CITIZENS ENCOURAGED TO SAY INSIDE

while most would see this as an inconvenience, that starry-eyed look returns to your face. completely forgetting about the table, you dash up to your bedroom and look out the window. a billow of cumulonimbus clouds has already started to form. you hastily open the closet door, searching for the warmest blanket you can find. pillows are thrown off of the bed and onto the floor near the bean-bag chair you oh-so-elegantly dragged near your window.

everything was set. pillows fluffed, blanket retrieved, and the rain had already started to fall. you plopped down on the bean-bag and curled up in the blanket. there was a childlike wonder about your face and you were so giddy you could barely sit still.

the rain was coming down hard now, and you began to feel a little worried. suga wasn’t home yet, and it had already been 15 minutes. but as soon as you heard that familiar rumble, you fell into your ceraunophilic trance once again, and all of your worries melted away.

just then, the sound of keys rattling filled the lower level of your house, as a very wet suga walked in.

“damn, it’s really coming down out there,” suga whispered to himself as he hastily made his way inside your home, observing his now soaked clothes.

“y/n i'm back, and i got your favorite!!” he shouted in a sing-songy voice.

his calls fell on deaf ears however, your focus was elsewhere, the storm capturing you in your little world.

“babe?” he questioned, worry piquing his voice, “i’m home, so come on down, the food is getting cold!!”

no response.

they probably just have their headphones on full blast again. he thought to himself.

koushi set the food down and discarded his shoes at the doorstep before heading to the upstairs bedroom. he expected to see you wildly dancing to whatever music filled your ears, but what he was met with an almost pitch black room- the only light coming from a small lantern next to the beanbag chair and the open window.

he knocked twice on the door, finally managing to break you from your trance.

“koushi!” you exclaimed, “you’re home!”

“yeah, i have been for like 5 minutes now dummy,” he chuckled.

“oh, sorry,” you laughed, a bit embarrassed, “but holy shit you’re soaked!”

“yeah it’s raining like crazy out there and i didn’t bring my umbrella, or raincoat today,”

“well hurry up and dry off honey, you’re gonna miss it,” you said, turning your attention back to the window again.

he cocked his head questioningly, “miss what?”

“just go,” you pushed. he put his hand up in surrender and compiled.

koushi began to undress, taking off his work shirt and placing it on a drying rack in the corner of your bedroom. you found yourself sneaking quick looks at him. his toned, slender frame never failing to captivate you. you tried to be discreet, but you were full on staring now, gawking at him like a kid in a candy store.

he moved to the drawers to find a t-shirt, but felt a pair of eyes boring into him. he turned his head a bit only to see you quickly shift your attention back to the window, trying to act like you weren't just ogling his abs just then.

“see something you like?” he smirked, “take a picture love, it’ll last longer.”

“just go dry off,” you said dismissively, trying to hide your embarrassment.

his honeyed laughter rang through your bedroom and he gathered the last of his clothes and went to the bathroom in search of a towel. you smiled to yourself, rolling your eyes as your attention turned back to the window.

a short time later, the smell of something absolutely delicious filled your nose. you quickly turned to see sugawara with an assortment of takeout boxes and utensils in his hands.

“i got your favorite,” he smiled, setting everything down in front of you.

thanking him, you begin practically tearing open the boxes taking some for yourself and passing some to koushi, excited to eat the meal with him.

as soon as you both were settled, he spoke up, “so, what’d you say i was going to miss?”

BOOM

immediately after he spoke, the loudest thunderclap you had ever heard roared in both of your ears and a bold streak of lighting lit up the whole neighborhood.

you and koushi, shocked looks plastered on your faces, turned to each other.

“that.” you remarked.

you both laughed at that little comment and the silly looks on each other’s faces, and settled back down in the beanbag chair to eat your meal.

thunder continued to roar outside. droplets of rain collected on the glass of your bedroom window, sliding off of it in haphazard streaks. lightning strikes every now and then, illuminating the world for a brief moment. you watched the extravagant display with pure awe in your eyes, unable to peel away from it.

but koushi... he spent his time staring at you, his eyes fixed on your exhilarated expression. he watched as the shadows of the raindrops cast on your face, he gazed at your smile, that seemed impossibly big, impossibly bright. and when the lighting struck, illuminating your features for that brief moment, you looked so… beautiful. so impossibly ethereal. like mother nature herself shone a spotlight directly on your face. he swore he had never seen something so beautiful in his life.

you tried your best to pay full attention to the storm, but the gaze boring into you was a bit distracting.

a smirk quirked on your lips as you faced him, leaning in so that you faces were millimeters apart,

“take a picture love, it’ll last longer.”

now it was his turn to turn away, flustered.

you giggled at his embarrassment relishing in the pink tint that now decorated his face.

“i hate you,” he joked, joining you in your laughing fit.

“no you don’t,” you countered, playfully swatting his shoulder.

there was a moment of air before you felt koushi’s delicate fingers caress your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his.

“you’re right, i don’t,” he whispered, bringing you even closer, “in fact- you’re the very thing i love most in this world.”

koushi’s lips brushed against yours for a moment and you looked up into his eyes. there was nothing but pure adoration gazing back at you. he meant every word- he does love you, and the kiss you then shared proved it. there was so much passion and tenderness behind the moment your lips locked. so much devotion and warmth, neither of you could help but melt into it, wanting to further lose yourselves in each other’s embrace.

however, the lack of oxygen made itself apparent and you had to pull away from each other, breathless and giddy.

koushi breathily chuckled as you reached out and held his face, brushing the mole that adorned his left cheek. giving him the same adoring gaze he flashed you not moments ago.

so cute, he thought to himself kissing your palm in return.

koushi’s arm found purchase around your waist pulling you into his chest. his heart jumped against your ears, the pace of his heartbeat slowing to match yours; your heartstrings strumming a melody only you two would ever hear. and you spent the rest of the night like this, bathing in each others’ warmth until your eyelids went heavy and you were both lulled to sleep by the sound of the roaring thunder.

[visionsofus]

I love your writing! May I please request an angst/pining fic where Vision wonders how Wanda would feel about being with him since he isn't human? This would before they get together. I always thought that something like this must have crossed his mind.

wow anon I really took this prompt and ran with it so it’s a little longer than expected but I really hope you like it! thanks for requesting something so interesting - it really gave me the opportunity to be creative. I took the opportunity to mess around with some headcanons about Vision’s emotions so there is that too. I absolutely agree that his nature would be something of a concern for Vision, and I think it’s probably an insecurity that would continue for a while into their relationship. Nevertheless, this is set sometime before Civil War at the compound with the rest of the team. I hope you enjoy! 

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

Wanda and Vision’s Mixtape #19: Feel Something by Jaymes Young

synopsis: Movie night at the compound isn’t going well for Vision, and that’s even before he decides to try and be a bit more human and eat food. He manages to drunkenly confess his deepest insecurities about his own existence before the night is out. Ft. angsty Vision, jealous Vision, pining Vision and basically Vision feeling a whole array of emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with. I love this man I am so sorry to put him through this 

It was supposed to be a nice Saturday, a celebration of the public holiday that blessed the team with four days off work, and yet Vision had been feeling strange all afternoon. It was difficult to place what was rubbing him the wrong way – it was even more challenging to process the feelings he had. Of course, he understood it logically, how his synthetic limbic system was able to replicate emotions based on feedback the outside world presented to his brain. But actually putting his feelings into words was far more difficult.

He had discussed this aspect of his development with Helen Cho two months earlier, as he so often did when he had challenges in adapting to a world that saw him as a simple robot. Her hypothesis, she had explained over lunch, was that Vision was bombarded with emotions in a way that any regular adult might be, except he had not had the years to develop ways to cope with them. Vision could feel all the feelings that he wanted, and he knew how they informed his decisions, but it didn’t make it much easier when it came to accepting those feelings. But Helen had explained there wasn’t a way to speed that process up without extensive surgery and the potential altering of his personality.

So, he read and read and read, consuming as much knowledge as he could to make up for all the years of emotional development that a being of his maturity was expected to have.

They were outside on the grassy lawn spanning out the front of the Avengers Compound. The immaculate lawns were at present occupied by two long couches that he had help carry outside, a barbeque and a long banquet table that was gradually filling up with food. Vision was surrounded by the teammates who had become his friends in the less than a year he had been living with them. It was a nice evening, so what was it that had him all hot and bothered?

“You all right there, buddy?” Clint said, slapping Vision on the back in a way he had seen the others do.

“I am well thank you, Clint,” Vision said managing a smile that satisfied the archer enough that he returned to his conversation with Thor and Natasha. The three of them were starting another round of beers as Vision awkwardly sat nearby.

“You want one, Vision?” Thor asked, holding one of the drinks out to him.

Vision opened his mouth in hesitation, wondering if he might be able to, just this once. “I can’t,” he said finally, knowing his systems wouldn’t be able to absorb the alcohol, or any liquid for that matter. The others didn’t question it, but Vision couldn’t help thinking that they still found him rather… odd.

As they returned to their conversation, sitting in an open enough group that Vision was included and welcomed into the conversation, he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Everyone around him was engaging in the social act of consumption, and he couldn’t. It hadn’t really bothered him before, but now that he saw them all engaging in this normal practice together, Vision couldn’t help feeling a bit left out. What other countless things did he miss out on simply by not being a human?

Looking for a distraction Vision directed his gaze away from the conversation happening around him and instead looked to the rest of his companions. His eyes immediately found Wanda, he couldn’t help it. There was a pull between them that couldn’t but denied. The connection scared him, despite the synthetic nature of his amygdala. Even as he gazed at her from a distance now, there was a part of him that wanted to get up and go to her side. He’d grown used to the feeling and relished the time they shared together and all that she made him feel. The rush of dopamine when she smiled, the spike in serotonin when he was the source of that smile, the spark of adrenaline when her hand accidentally brushed his skin. None of these reactions scared him, not really. The attraction was too pleasant to truly fear. No, the scary part was that once he was at her side he never wanted to leave.

As he mulled this over Wanda felt his gaze and glanced over her shoulder, pausing her monitoring of the barbecue to give him a quick smirk. Vision, distracted as he was, panicked and quickly looked away in embarrassment. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her frown and turn back to Steve who was helping her with flipping the burger patties.

Frustrated at himself he returned his gaze to the pair at the barbecue. He watched as Wanda’s arm slipped trying to flip a particularly stubborn patty and Steve quickly grabbed her elbow lest it hit the hot surface of the grill. Even as Vision’s fear spiked a moment at the prospect of Wanda being injured, his irritation grew exponentially.

In reaction to Wanda’s near accident he had half risen from the couch and realised it would now look odd if he didn’t commit to standing up. Reluctantly he left the chattering trio he’d been beside and made his rounds to the other teammates. Tony was helping Pepper set out the cutlery down the long table and Vision decided this was a safe enough space to place himself until they sat down for food.

He absentmindedly made small talk with the pair and helped in gathering glasses from inside and bringing them out to be filled with beer and various other refreshments he couldn’t consume. As he did, he kept half an eye on Wanda and Steve, hating the irritation that grew as they laughed and joked. It was entirely irrational. Vision admired Steve a great deal and had only ever had respect for him in their training. He was proud to have established a good enough relationship with the Captain that he was able to be called a friend. But seeing the pair enjoying themselves made him upset, a little bit angry and…

And jealous.

Whether it was the shock or not he couldn’t be sure, but the feelings died immediately as he reprimanded himself for his own presumptuousness. What right did he have to feel jealousy of all things, watching Wanda getting along with the Captain. It was not his place to feel this way. They certainly weren’t at a point in their relationship where such a thing might be acceptable, or even desired by her. What are the chances that a human would fall for a synthezoid?

None. He replied to himself. Zero, nada, zilch. It was so impossible it didn’t deserve his attention and so he gloomily turned his mind to the table before him and continued setting out glasses.

The dinner itself was rather uneventful. Or as uneventful as things could get with the Avengers. Thor had challenged Steve to a drinking competition, a dangerous prospect given Thor’s immeasurable tolerance for alcohol and Steve’s high metabolism.

The rest of the team were content to behold the competition without intervening, instead chattering in small groups around the table.

As always, there was an ease to the conversation and Vision found it welcoming, occasionally joining in here and there. But he mostly listened, content to absorb that which was said around him without offering his input. If anyone noticed he was more quiet than normal, they said nothing. And if Wanda thought it was strange that he had placed himself at the opposite end of the table to her, she did not acknowledge it, save for a hesitant glance his way every few minutes.

Thor and Steve were well into their 15th drinks when the team wrapped up dinner.

“Can you give me a hand with the movie, Vision?” Tony asked, heading over to the large projector that had been set up on the lawn ready for the movie night that had been planned to end the evening. Vision tilted his head in surprise but followed anyway.

“What do you need me for?” Vision asked joining Tony at the projector.

“Oh no reason, actually.”

Vision frowned as Tony made a few quick touches on his tablet and the night’s selected movie appeared on the screen. Nat had chosen a comedy flic Vision didn’t recognise.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Tony said nonchalantly and handed Vision the end of a beanbag to drag over to the couches which were slowly becoming occupied as the rest of the team milled over. “You seem quiet tonight.”

“There is nothing wrong with being quiet.”

“No, there’s not,” Tony agreed, “but there is something wrong with feeling like you have to be quiet to satisfy others.”

Vision averted his gaze from Tony’s piercing eyes. He was uncomfortably perceptive when he wanted to be.

“I assure you, that’s not what is happening.”

There was silence but Vision refused to meet Tony’s intent look, afraid of what he might see reflected there. Tony gave a mighty sigh and then Vision was left alone once more.  

Vision had perched himself on the end of the couch next to Clint, who had tried to insist on returning to his room on the grounds that he hated comedy films, but Nat had made him stay.

Beside Clint was Steve, still going strong on his drinking bet, with Thor beside him. The rest of his teammates were assembled on the other couch or occupying chairs and beanbags before the projector upon which the movie was just beginning.  

Lounging on a blue beanbag in front of the couch sat Wanda. Her legs curled up underneath her and with her already short stature she was practically absorbed by the enormous beanbag.

“Hey, Wanda,” Steve called over the sound of the movie, “chuck me some popcorn, will you?”

Wanda did indeed chuck some popcorn, throwing three pieces over her shoulder, one of them landing in Steve’s cup.

“No what I meant,” Steve said, and Wanda laughed. The sound made Vision smile, as it so often did.

Wanda turned around in her chair and met Vision’s gaze, the popcorn bowl extended to him before she caught herself and turned to Clint instead. Vision’s smile fell.

“Would you like some, Clint?” She asked sweetly and Steve grumbled something under his breath.

“Shut up old man,” Clint joked and took the bowl she offered.

Wanda’s attention was back on the screen as Clint held the popcorn out to Vision absentmindedly.

“Oops sorry,” he said pulling away, “I forgot.”

“It’s ok,” Vision sighed. As Clint turned away, he made his decision. “Actually, you know I will have some.”

“Uh okay,” Clint said hesitantly, and Vision plucked a single piece of popped corn from the overflowing bowl before it was handed down to the rest of the couch.

Eating was a strange experience and even as he chewed his body sounded off warnings and Vision knew then and there that he had made a mistake. But he so desperately wanted to fit in that he ignored it all, swallowing finally and shuddering slightly at the unwelcome feeling of the food going down his throat.

Within half an hour Vision was feeling as light and airy as the popcorn had been. His movements a little sluggish, his eyes seeming to slow down as he watched the movie. Distracted, he found it harder to not think about Wanda. The popcorn had somehow made it more difficult to fend off the challenging thoughts he was often so good at pushing off. Now, however, the little voice in his head telling him she’d never want him, was back. It was followed up by a second voice that made him feel stupid for even feeling this way for her in the first place.

In an effort to escape the cycle his brain had worked itself up into Vision decided to take a walk. This was challenging apparently, as he managed to bump into several chairs and the table before he made his way away from the noise of the screen. The movie was too loud, and he needed to get some more air.

“More air,” Vision giggled to himself, despite the fact he had never giggled in his life, “I am surrounded by air why could I possibly need more of it?”

“Vision?” Tony called, evidently having seen the way the synthezoid had stumbled away from the screen and followed him.

“Yessir,” Vision said standing to attention and then dissolving into laughter.

Tony stopped in his tracks with his mouth open in disbelief.

“’Scuse the language, but what the fuck?”

“You are excused,” Vision bowed but that made him feel dizzy and so he staggered over to the wall of the compound so he could lean against something solid.

“Yep you’re not okay,” Tony said coming closer and peering into Vision’s eyes. “Look at me, buddy.” He reached out and tried to hold one of Vision’s eyes open.

“What’re you doin?” Vision said, now aware that he had started slurring for some reason.

“Are you drunk?” Tony asked indignantly at this and pulled his hands away from Vision’s face  

“Don’t be absurd,” Vision said waving a hand, “I can’t drink.”

Tony looked sceptical.

“I can’t,” Vision insisted. “I can’t drink, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything!”

Tony looked more concerned at this, taking the synthezoid by the shoulders and leading him further away from the group at their back, all still very much preoccupied by the movie. Save for Wanda who had noticed Vision’s absence, as keenly aware of him as he was of her, and had followed at a concerned distance.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” Tony said patting Vision’s shoulder, “but you need to fix it.”

“Oh yes I can fix it,” Vision rambled, “I can do anything and everything, I am a superhuman except I’m not human am I?”

Tony sighed sadly. “Is that what this is about? You know no one here cares what you are, Vision. Half of us aren’t full humans anyway.”

“Yes, but most of you are at least a little bit human,” Vision said raising a hand to correct him. He then pointed at himself. “I am not human enough to be human, but not artificial enough to be treated like a robot. I am something else, not quite enough of either.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to this and so Vision took a few steps away, turning his head skyward and sadly admiring the twilight sky above them. The sun had set enough now that the evening had turned chilly, not the Vision minded it, not that he even felt the cold.

As the synthezoid stood gazing at the sky and the stars slowly coming to life, his brain supplied him with a piece of media to help process the strange feelings running through his mind. The movie Pinocchio.

“I wish I may, I wish I might.” Vision’s voice was barely audible as he quoted the story, certainly too quiet for Tony to hear. “Have this wish, I wish tonight.”

“I wish that I were more.”

Tony heard this last part. “Is that all this is about?” His voice was hesitant and both of them appeared apprehensive of the answer.

But Vision didn’t want to hide the truth, not anymore. “I wish that I could be more,” Vision said, “for her.”

Vision’s hand came to his mouth as the words left it, as though he could somehow capture the truth and hold it close once more. He didn’t need to specify that Wanda was the subject of his aching heart as he turned back to see Tony’s knowing gaze.

His gaze was a little hazy now, a little frayed at the edges as he tried to look at Tony properly. Instead, he found his eyes locking on the shadowed figure over his shoulder, Wanda.

“If you don’t mind,” Vision said, slurring his words again, “I will be seeing myself to bed now.”

He started forward, away from the concerned pair who both reached for him at the same time. Vision waved off their worry, “I am perfectly fine I assure you.”

He reached the back door of the compound and went to phase through the steel, startling himself when his forehead collided with cold metal. Vision tried again and shook his head painfully as it thudded against the door once more. He hesitated the third time, instead extending his hand and trying to phase. He managed to get his hand through but then lost control of his power and his fist became trapped. He sighed grumpily, yanking the door off its hinges and cracking it in half in order to free his hand. The discarded pieces of steel thudded to the ground at his back.

Vision stomped up the stairs, doing his best to hold onto the balustrade when the ground started to sway beneath his feet. He could hear the footsteps of someone hurrying after him.

“I assure you, Mr Stark,” Vision said shaking his head, “I am perfectly fine, I just need some rest.

“You’re not fine.”

Wanda’s voice made Vision stop in his tracks.

“Please don’t lie to me,” she said sounding slightly miffed. Vision hung his head shamefully as she took his arm, not even able to relish in the physical contact as she guided him down to his room at the end of the corridor.

Wordlessly, he let her sit him down upon the bed.

Perching next to him, she raised her hands. “May I?”

Vision nodded and Wanda’s hands glowed a soft red in the darkness of his room.

“Well that definitely shouldn’t be there,” she muttered, and Vision felt a repulsive feeling as what was left of the popcorn started to resurface.

“I’ll just be one tickety-boo—” He managed before running from the room. He thought he heard Wanda laugh as he left.

After getting rid of the single piece of popcorn that had managed to cause such damage in one evening Vision felt infinitely better. Or at least, much more himself. A little more in control, a little calmer and thankful that the room had stopped spinning for the time being. He swished water in his mouth and spat it into the bathroom sink – an activity he had only ever seen done on the television, never having reason to do so himself.

He was dismayed to find that Wanda was still in his room when he returned. Vision looked away from her even as she extended a hand that he reluctantly took.

She guided him to the bed and pulled the covers back, waiting for him to get in. He didn’t really feel like explaining that the bed was mostly an illusion and that he didn’t need it to sleep, that his sleep wasn’t the same kind of sleep she needed. Just a cheap rip off that his artificial brain demanded.

Sat against the headboard with the covers pulled up around his waist and Wanda sat on the edge of the bed next to him, Vision still refused to look at her. “Forgive me for my unseemly behaviour tonight,” he managed, hoping that she would take this as invitation to leave him to his humiliation.

“Now that I know there was nothing seriously wrong, it was actually kind of endearing.” Wanda shrugged. Vision felt a little better at this.

“Why did you try to eat popcorn?” She asked dipping her head so she could meet his downturned gaze. “I know you don’t eat.”

They sat in silence as he stoically refused to answer. He was quite sure that Wanda had heard at least part of his blabbering down on the lawn. There was no need to reiterate the deep dark secret he’d managed to keep hidden for the last year.

“You know I’d never ask you to change right, Vis?” Wanda said quietly.

“If I could be human though,” Vision murmured not sure where the sentence was going.

“It doesn’t matter, because you can’t.”

His brows drew together in consideration. But he knew she was right, no amount of wishing on stars would change that.

“And I wouldn’t want you to either,” she said quietly.

Vision met her eyes at this, and she smiled warmly.

“You’re perfect just as you are.” Wanda hesitated a moment but then leant forward quickly and gave him a hug. It only lasted a moment, but Vision felt as though every nerve lit up along his skin at the points she touched. Her hand lingered a little longer on his shoulder and he almost reached out to hold it there, to confess something much more serious than that which he had already admitted to. But there was no amount of malfunctioning he’d be able to blame that revelation on. Instead, Wanda took his hesitation as her cue to leave and rose before he could say anything more.

“Well, I’ll let you rest.”

Vision managed a small smile. “Thank you, Wanda.”

“Don’t feel like you have to change for any of us,” she reminded him as she hesitated at the door. “You’d never need to change for me, Vis, I like you just as you are.”

He dipped his head once more, worried that the intensity of his affection would come across in his gaze. He remained that way until the last slither of light from the corridor disappeared and the door was shut softly at her back.

Vision sat up in bed for hours, turning over the events of the evening in his mind again and again. And every time he came back to her words, holding them close to his heart in reassurance. He didn’t need the stars or fairy tales to be there for her. He didn’t need to act like something else, to become someone else for her. And he was gradually realising that she’d never asked him to anyway, that anxiety was a product of his own overthinking. As he realised all of this, her words repeated again and again in his ears, a comforting mantra as the night passed on.

You’d never need to change for me. I like you just as you are.

[satyr-syd]

Seconds after Sero stepped into the blazing heat of the summer sun, sweat already pooling at the base of his spine under his thin tank-top, it began to snow.

Chilly pin-pricks dotted the back of his back. A gust of wind manifested out of nowhere and whipped against his tragically exposed sides. He held out his hand and watched as tiny white specks melted on his sweaty palm. Sero looked up, but the sun still beat down, unhindered by a single wisp of cloud. Goosebumps pimpled down his arms.

Well this sucks.  

He was supposed to meet Todoroki in the quad five minutes ago for their daily study session (Sero had many charming qualities, and being fashionably late was one of them). Ever since their dorm’s AC had been tragically annihilated in an acid-related incident that Sero had absolutely no part in whatsoever, the quad was the best place to study. Outside, there was at least the suggestion of a breeze.

Okay, so it was a bit more than a suggestion now. More like a firm instruction, edging on harsh demand.

Sero rubbed his arms together, elbows tight against his poor exposed sides. Man oh man was he not a fan of winter. Winter meant trying to find the one jacket in the entire mall that suited his specific physique and hoping they still stocked it in his size. Where did the snow even come from? Why did it have to be now of all times? If he tried to make himself a jacket out of his tape would it actually work this time?

While Sero stood there freezing his ass off like an idiot instead of like, going back inside, a white-and-red head made its way through the quad to him.

read on ao3

fic art by @kim-namzoom!!!

“Hanta,” Todoroki greeted. His hair, grown lovingly past his shoulders in the spirit of spite (“My father despises it,” Todoroki had announced proudly after returning from winter break their second year), laid over his shoulder in a loose braid. Sero wondered who’d braided it for him. It looked nice.

By then, an icy sheen coated the ground and the wind blew loud enough to howl in his ear, and the nails on Sero’s fingers began to purple. “Dude, is this you?” Sero asked.

Todoroki shook his head. He stood close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know how to make snow.”

“Huh,” Sero said. “You should learn how. Then we could have snow cones like every day.”

Todoroki held out his hand - the right one - next to Sero’s.Whereas the snowflakes melted into watery mush in Sero’s palm after a few moments, they held their shape in Todoroki’s, forming a lacy layer of crystals over his slender fingers.

“Do you like snowcones?” Torodoki asked.

Sero shrugged. “Dunno, never had one.”

“Neither have I.”

Present Mic’s voice burst through the loudspeakers. “THERE HAS BEEN A QUIRK MISHAP! SORRY FOR THE UNFORESEEN WEATHER, KIDDOS! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR ROOMS WHILE WE FIGURE OUT WHAT’S HAPPENING.”

The few students still standing outside slowly filed indoors.

“Maybe one of the first years?” Sero asked.

“Probably,” Todoroki said. He held up his hand. “They’re the ones most lacking in control...and yet, overflowing with arrogance.”

“Wow, sounds like someone I knew in first year.”

Todoroki nodded sagely. “Bakugou was certainly a handful.”

“I know you know who I was talking about,” Sero said, poking his shoulder.

Todoroki smirked. It was just the slight quirk of his lips, barely visible unless you knew to look for it. Sero knew to look. He’s seen that smile a lot, these days. Which was great, because Todoroki had a wonderful smile, but also not great, because whenever he made Todoroki smile, his heart doki-doki ’d so hard that he was positive Todoroki could hear it.

See, asking Todoroki to tutor him had been a highly calculated move that had not one, but two purposes: first, Sero was, is, and (if we’re being honest) probably always will be a terrible student and if there was any chance of him getting decent grades his last year of high school, he needed a tutor. He could have asked the other top-scoring students, but Momo and Kendo were too busy (he wasn’t the only idiot scrambling for a passing grade), Bakugou was too explodey, Iida was too boring, and Midoriya was too muttery. Todoroki was none of those things and also the hottest of the bunch, which lead to purpose number two: as his tutor, he and Todoroki could spend more time alone together. Why? Because six months had passed since Sero admitted to himself that he was no better than every other girl in school and was totally crushing on the Icy-hot hero Shouto and now he’s tired of pining like some basic bitch.

“Let’s study in my room,” Todoroki said.

Sero had been to Torodoki’s room like, a ton of times, but his heart still skipped a beat every time Todoroki invited him. “Lead the way, sensei,” he said.

“I’m not your sensei.”

“Your teaching prowess says otherwise, sensei.”

“Call me sensei one more time and I’ll have Bakugou quiz you on polar coordinates.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” Sero said. He spun in front of Todoroki. “But I don’t think you have the heart to follow through on that - ” Sero tapped his nose to the beat of his killing blow “ -  sen-sei.”

Todoroki stared at him for a moment, pouting, cheeks pink from the cold. Then he pulled out his phone and began texting Bakugou.

“Noooooo shit I’m sorry I’ll stop! It was just a joke!”

This is it,  Sero told himself.  Snow storm wailing outside, holed up in Todoroki’s room, just the two of us - this is my moment.

Todoroki’s room hadn’t changed much since their first year. Decorative pot of bamboo in the corner (fake), tall, dark wooden drawers, a low desk free of clutter, tatami flooring, somehow. That ugly checkered mat by his desk. But where there once was one chair, now there were two. A pair of crocs (never worn) sat in front of his dresser. And on the dresser, crowding the decorative orb, half a dozen framed pictures: Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou at the end of their internship with Endeavor; their class picture from last year; Natsuo and Fuyumi showering Todoroki in hugs; a selfie Sero took of him and Todoroki on their first day of their summer internship with Edgeshot.

There was also a behemoth purple beanbag sitting by the shoji screen. It looked wildly out of place with the rest of his traditional set-up. Sero dragged it over to Todoroki’s desk and flopped down into it.

Over the next twenty minutes, they reviewed that day’s lessons (apparently it’s like, good practice to review what you’ve learned that same day, which was annoying, but Sero’s grades had been going up, so whatever). Todoroki explained over and over until Sero actually understood how to convert Cartesian coordinates to polar coordinates. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to explain so many times if Sero had listened carefully, but, well, it was hard with Todoroki talking to him in the soothing, patient tone he took on when he was teaching. He just looked so cute with his brow furrowed, thinking up a new way to explain a concept that would penetrate Sero’s thick skull. Sero liked to think he had built up a tolerance to buff, attractive men over his nearly-three years at U.A., but he was still weak to Todoroki’s hands, to the way his tight t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders.

The fact that he was cold as shit wasn't helping him focus either. Faint shadows of falling snow danced along the translucent paper walls of the shoji screen, taunting him.

But hey, at least he vaguely understood the polar coordinate system.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Sero said after he finally solved a difficult math problem all on his own. “I bet the others would die to get their hands on your notes.”

“Guess they’ll die, then.”

Sero snickered. “That’s rough, dude.”

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not going to put effort into something I don’t like to do when I know they won’t appreciate it.”

Sero freezes. “Wait - you don’t like tutoring?”

“Well - ”

“Oh shit, am I making you do something you hate? Bro, why didn’t you tell me, I wouldn’t have - ”

“It’s different when it’s you,” Todoroki said sharply.

Sometimes, it was hard to tell when Todoroki was joking, or if he was actually serious. The look in those blue-brown eyes, though, showed his resolve loud and clear.

Todoroki immediately averted his eyes. “I like helping you,” he muttered, “so it’s fine.”

“Oh.”

Not for the first time, Sero wondered: why him? Todoroki had many other friends ...maybe friends that were smarter than he was and didn’t need tutoring, granted, but other friends he could be hanging out with. What’s the appeal? Was it his wonderfully terrible sense of humor? Was it the muscles he totally wasn't showing off? Was it because they shared the same taste in manga (oh yeah - he should ask Todoroki if he finished with week’s Shonen Champion)? Was it because he, unlike at least half of their year, was capable of talking at a normal volume? Over his time at U.A., Sero had gained more confidence in himself than he ever thought he would, but when it came to Todoroki, he still felt...small. Unsure if the light that shone from a great hero like Todoroki drowned out his own little spark.

Usually things between them were pretty chill, but after that comment, a weird kind of tension settled over the room. Not bad, just quiet, like when there's a sleeping cat on your laps and you're afraid any movement will wake it.

Pretty soon, though, Sero began to shiver. He couldn’t help it - there was a winter storm outside, apparently, and he was in a tank top and jorts, and seriously, did  no one  turn the heat on? Did no one turn the heat on  and  the AC miraculously began working again?

Todoroki was staring at him, too. God, he must have thought Sero was some kind of pansy, getting cold so easily, unable to regulate his own temperature like  some  people (though he guessed in that case, most people would be pansies to Todoroki).

13) Convert 2x−5x   3   =1+xy into polar coordinates.

Sero tapped his pen against his paper. Todoroki’s gaze followed the movement, then returned to his face. Sero could practically feel his impatience.

Sero put his pen down and stretched his arms over his head. Todoroki looked away.  Got’em.  

“You know...” Sero said. Todoroki glanced back at him. “...staring at me isn’t going to help me solve this stupid question any faster.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Todoroki said, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Sero grinned. Anyone who knew him well can tell you that the Cool and Cold hero Shouto was just as petty as any mortal. Probably pettier, in fact. “You totally were.”

Todoroki frowned. “You were shivering.”

“Yeah, wonder why.”

Todoroki’s gaze shifted over to him. He looked Sero up and down. Sero tried and failed not to shiver. Todoroki’s clenched jaw softed and his eyes smiled and he stared - this time, he  was definitely staring - Sero felt his face heating up (well, that’s one way to get warm).

Wordlessly, Todoroki got up and sat down next to him on the beanbag. Sero fell against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, the tips of Todoroki’s braid tickling his shoulder.

Sero froze up (pun intended). His heart pounded in his ears. But he knew what Todoroki was doing, so he didn’t feel guilty as he curled into his side, basking in the warmth like a cat in a strip of sunlight. And the warmth from Todoroki’s left side began to melt him down.  

He pressed his cheek against Todoroki’s shoulder and said, “I thought you didn’t like people using you as a space heater.”

“Most people.”

Sero smirked. “So you’re saying I’m special?”

Todoroki looked at him and smiled. “Didn’t I say that earlier?”

Ohhhh man oh fuck. How could he just say that, looking at him like that, like he was more than just the plainest guy in class, like he really was special? Sero was known for keeping his cool, for being the chillest dude in the group, but with someone as special as Todoroki looking at him like  he’s  special…fuck.

“I mean, well, like that was just about tutoring and not, you know - ”  nearly sitting in my fucking lap,   “  - sharing personal space.”

“You looked cold,” Todoroki said. He could feel Todoroki’s breath on his cheek. “I didn’t want you to be distracted.”

“I’m a lot more distracted now.”

A part of him cringed as the words left his mouth. Oh god, why did I say that, was that even sexy?  But another part of him pushed that part down and shushed it. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for, it said. Even if Todoroki turned him down, at least he could graduate without any regrets. Maybe he could even tell his grandkids that he once received a  personal  rejection from the great hero Shouto.

“Oh.” Todoroki said, shoulder tensing where Sero leaned against him. Sero braced himself mentally, the same way he did before he launched himself off a building, preparing for the inevitable gut-plunge as he swooped toward the ground. “...me too.”

And there’s the thrill of the upward swing.

Sero was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have shot his shot if he’d thought he had no chance. Still, hearing Todoroki say he feels it too took him by surprise in the best way possible. Like tasting the sweet tang of umiboshi in the center of a plain-looking onigiri. Like acing a test you thought you failed. Like snow in June.

The air between them was electric but still. Did that count as admitting their feelings? What should he say now? Where were they supposed to go from here? All Sero wanted to do his grab Todoroki’s hand and hold his stupid pretty face in his hands and kiss him silly, but they should probably like, talk about things -

“Hanta.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh thank fuck - yes please.”

And then he was kissing Todoroki Shouto, son of number one hero Endeavor, one of the Big Three most promising students at the most prestigious hero school in the country. His lips were soft but clumsy, shy but adamant as he pressed against him. Sero cupped his face and felt the slight inhale of Shouto’s gasp. Despite being pinned down by the weight of Shouto’s chest on his and trapped between the strong forearms framing his face, the light that perpetually emanated from the great hero Shouto wasn’t overwhelming. Sero was warmed by his light instead of cowed by it. In that moment, Shouto’s light drew out the best in him - and his little spark ignited.  

Yet, that question that always nagged him surfaced again: Why me?      

As Shouto’s kisses began to trail down his neck, Sero figured he could ask why later - when Shouto wasn’t busy showing him it’s you, it’s you.      

Even with the frozen tundra battering just outside, Sero was burning up again.

[fandomsnfluff]

can you plssss do a renga fic perhaps a sleepover which started off with them watching a movie and having a pillow fight turning into a tickle war! (both of them beings lees and lers with either one of them winning at the end)

hey anon!! full fic requests are actually closed right now but i’d be happy to write a longer(-ish) drabble based on this prompt, cuz this sounds super duper cute!! <3

sleepovers (reki/langa, langa/reki)

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

It was around 7:30 when Reki came by Langa’s house for the sleepover that they had planned at school a couple days before. Langa’s mother had gone on a few-day business trip, leaving her son alone to tend to himself. She was fine with Langa having guests over, as long as they didn’t completely trash the place. Reki doubted that the workings of just two teenage boys could do that much damage (oho, you’d be surprised); he only went over to spend some quality time with his boyfriend.

Langa let Reki in as soon as he rang the doorbell, as if he was waiting there at the entrance until he had arrived. Langa was so attached to him; it was actually pretty cute.

The taller teen led Reki into his bedroom, which was just up the stairs to the left. It was a rather spicy room, his bed in the back right corner facing a drawer with a TV on it. On the other side was a door, assumed to be the opening to a closet, and the space along the wall not taken up by bookshelves or his desk was littered with beanbag chairs and blankets. Without asking, Reki plopped onto the soft futon-looking beanbag chair, snuggling up in the warm blankets that were littered all across the furniture. Langa didn’t seem to care, though; he sat up on his bed, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV to look for a movie. “Do you like horror movies, Reki?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I absolutely love them! You got any zombie ones at all?”

“Hmmm...” Langa squinted as he began to scroll through Netflix, pausing on one titled The Awakening. “This one’s about a person who is trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic world and finds a way to bring about a civilization again, but not without lots of battles, of course. How’s it sound to you?”

“Perfect!”

It had barely been five minutes into the movie before Reki noticed that Langa had begun to tense up. His face betrayed nothing, but the way he squirmed in his seat presented nothing but fear to Reki. Smirking, the redhead grabbed a fluffy blue pillow near where he was reclining on the futon beanbag, and tossed it at Langa. It hit him square in the head, and Reki couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Scared?”

“Shut up!” Langa retorted, throwing the pillow back at him. The whole thing descended into a back-and-forth pillow war before Langa decided to jump off his bed, his own pillow in hand, pouncing on Reki and bringing it down on him.

“Oof!” Reki let out a puff as the pillow came down on him. “You want a pillow fight? Well, you’ve got one!”

The boys spent the next few minutes tussling on the pile of beanbags, blankets, and pillows, the movie completely ignored. Langa thought that it was a good idea to wrap his leg around Reki’s upper torso to pin him to the futon so he couldn’t assault him with the pillow anymore. However, Reki had another plan up his sleeve. Letting go of the pillow, he wrapped his arm around Langa’s ankle and scribbled his fingers across the socked sole of his foot.

“R-Rekiiihihi!!” Langa squealed, suddenly beginning to squirm around, kicking in a desperate attempt to dislodge his leg from Reki’s grip. In his moment of strength, the little redhead rolled over onto his side so he could pin Langa’s upper body to the ground with his legs, allowing for an easier reach for the lower half of his boyfriend’s body. Finding out that his boyfriend was this ticklish under his feet was probably the best discovery he’d ever made; it gave him such an advantage, especially since the spot was so hard to defend.

But that didn’t mean Reki didn’t have weaknesses of his own. In fact, when he loosened his grip to get a better reach on his boyfriend’s feet, Langa managed to slip his upper body free and grab hold of one of Reki’s ankles, beginning the same assault on him.

Reki completely wasn’t expecting a counterattack; he thought he had his boyfriend pinned well enough so he wouldn’t be able to wriggle free. He screamed at the sudden attack, the panic causing him to kick out and squirm away from Langa. Even though the taller teen didn’t get a good enough grip on his ankle to continue assaulting him, he was still too fast; he abandoned Reki’s lower extremities and instead pinned him down by the chest with one hand, the other exploring the ticklish points along the redhead’s torso, making him caterwaul and howl with laughter.

“LANGAAAHAHAHAHA PLEEEASE I’M SO SORRY!!!” Reki screamed through his laughter, feeling the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Finally, after a few more moments of the incessant tickling, the strongest of the sensations finally faded, and Reki was left panting, nearly crying.

“That was mean,” he complained, too weak to even attempt to sit up.

Langa only scoffed. “But it’s fun,” he complained. “You’re too easy to get. And you started it. I only stopped because I got concerned about the neighbors. You should really keep it down, you know.”

“Shut up! You know I can’t help it!”

A sudden shriek from the television got both of their attention; they suddenly realized how far along the movie got; they had missed a good portion of it with their pointless squabbling.

“You better rewind that before I decide I never want to come over here again,” Reki teased. That earned a glare from Langa as he reached for the remote, and the redhead couldn’t help but burst into laughter once again.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

ok soooo that COMPLETELY turned into a fic kskdjhsjdfhs. idk ig that means drabble fics are acceptable to request??? idk lmao. but anyways i hope you enjoyed this anon!!! <3

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 11

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, AO3

~*CS*~

Vancouver, May 30th

Emma stared out at the large, empty space in front of her feeling exhausted and exhilarated.  She was sitting with her feet dangling off the edge of the stage, her heels drumming against the wall without any discernible rhythm.  Her hair was still damp with sweat from the show and her arms ached from the intensity that she’d played but she didn’t care.  Even the roadies working around her barely paid her any attention, they all knew she was merely basking in the moment.

Her tour was officially done.  Seventeen cities in a month and every one of them had been amazing but there was always something extra special about the final show.  It was as though everything and everyone had come together to create a perfect moment in time that they capitalized on to give the best show possible.  Her playing had been spectacular, the others had been just as great, better even, and the audience had loved every second, sang every lyric, cheered their hearts out.  They’d ended up doing two encores.

As her gaze swept across the thousands of empty seats she let out a contented hum.  They had sold every ticket for every show and each venue had been just as big.  It boggled her mind that every person that filled those seats did so because they loved her music, connected with her lyrics, and appreciated what she was trying to communicate through her art.  She only wished she could have personally thanked each and every one of them for it.

The bustle behind her continued on as she soaked it all in.  She took no notice of the footsteps approaching her until a pair of familiar, well worn boots stopped beside her.  Looking up at Will with a smile she patted the stage next to her.  Lowering himself next to her she noticed that he’d taken a shower, the smell of his body wash still strong.  With a pang she realized that Killian had used the same brand.

“‘Nother one in the books, eh?” Will grinned, knocking her shoulder with his.

“Yeah,” she sighed happily, “Tonight was really great.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Clearly.  You haven’t done two encores in ages.  Then again, you haven’t been too keen on doin’ the planned one lately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, frowning as she adjusted herself so she was facing him.

“Well-” he leaned back and gave her an unimpressed look, “Ever since LA and the shit with Killian you’ve been phonin’ it in a bit.  Tonight was the first show you actually looked like you were havin’ fun.”

“I haven’t been phoning it in!” She protested a little too loudly, some of the crew behind her stopped to look over at them.  Blushing she gave them a wan smile before glaring at Will, “I played my heart out at every show, asshole.”

“Not possible,” Will negated, his grin unfurled again, “You left that thing back in LA.”

She felt a pang of longing and regret again, even as she scrunched up her face in distaste, “That was really cheesy and absolutely not true.”

“Oy, you’ve put cheesier lines in your songs,” he accused. “Besides, I’m just the purveyor of truth in these troubled times.  Admit it, you’ve not been givin’ it your all.  Especially in Oakland.  That was a rough one.”

She opened her mouth to refute and couldn’t.  Will was absolutely right and she kind of hated him for it.  Oakland had been more than rough, it had almost been a disaster.  It had taken an intense pep-talk from Ruby and Tink combined to just get her to the venue.  She’d been able to put on a convincing enough show but the second she’d stepped backstage between the main set and the encore she’d nearly had a complete breakdown.  More than once during the show she had looked over expecting to see Killian grinning back at her and found Ruby instead.  Every little thing she’d pushed aside had hit her as she’d moved offstage and it had taken everything she’d had to get back out on stage to finish the show.

“Yeah, well...  Why didn’t anyone say anything?” She asked accusingly. “Regina didn’t even bring it up and you know she loves to find something to critique.”

“Eh, the shows haven’t been complete shite,” he said with a shrug. “No one’s posted a rant or got a new hashtag trendin’ and you know I’d tell you ‘bout those.”

She snorted, “I don’t know why you’re so fixated on social media.  Hasn’t Belle broken you of that habit yet?”

“Ah, but she loves me for all my charmin’ qualities,” he said with a wink. “I’ve her almost convinced to join Instagram.  Told her other nerds’ll love to see her books and all those plants her dad’s given her.  They like seeing all those uninspired posts you do of your piano after all.”

“It’s the only thing I’m comfortable sharing,” she mumbled.

Will stared at her for a moment before nodding and looking out at the empty seats.  She waited for him to finally say what he’d stayed behind to say instead of going back to the hotel with Belle.  He loved to tease and stir up trouble but she knew that when he got serious that it meant something.  There was no way he’d waited until nearly everyone else had left just so he could not so gently criticize the last few shows.

Instead of saying anything he began humming.  Emma rolled her eyes and focused on watching the last of the equipment being packed up and cleared off the stage.  It wasn’t until Will began singing under his breath that she recognized the song.

“Backstreet Boys?  Really?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Show me the meaning of being lonely,” he said instead of singing, “So many words for a broken heart.  Right, luv?”

She recoiled, “My heart’s not broken.”

“Could have fooled me and everyone else ‘round here.  Even Belle noticed somethin’s off with you.”

“She did?”

Instead of answering Will looked back out over the empty seats, leaning back on his hands as he did so.  He continued to recite the lyrics of the song, as though it was a masterpiece in verse instead of a late nineties pop song written with the sole purpose of being a hit.  She watched, impressed and amused by his unabashed performance, spoken in a voice that carried to an audience of one.

Just as she was about to press him about what it was about her, that definitely wasn’t a broken heart, that Belle had noticed he fell silent.  His mouth quirked up at the corner as he tilted his head to look at her.

“Have I ever told you how I met Belle?” He asked, his gaze soft.

She blinked, “Uh, no?”

“Broke into her shop,” he said proudly, the other side of his mouth ticking up into a boyish smile.

“You broke into her shop?” She asked slowly, not quite believing him.

“I was quite pissed at the time.  That’d be drunk to you, you bloody yank,” he teased and she rolled her eyes, “Had the bright idea that a certain book was all I needed to set things to right.”

“You broke into her shop,” she repeated, “to steal a book?”

“Never said I was stealin’ anythin’,” he said with mock innocence. “I’m not sure I like what you’re implyin’.”

She huffed, “Fine, you broke into her shop to not steal a book. Did you meet her when she knocked you out before she called the cops?”

“Not exactly.  You know those squishy little settees she’s got round the children’s nook?”

“You mean the beanbags?  Yeah,” she said nodding.

“Well, I tuckered meself out picking the lock, findin’ that bloody book, and drinking far too much whisky.  Decided to take a little nap before movin’ along,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

“So you passed out and Belle found you in the morning?” She surmised.

“The cops found me first, not fifteen minutes after I’d set off a silent alarm.  Belle was livin’ above the shop then.  She had no idea anythin’ was amiss until after they’d cuffed me and had her come down so they could explain what’d happened-” he ducked his head at that.  When he continued his voice was fond, “The constables were telling her what I could be charged with and she just kept lookin’ at my sorry ass.  Drunk as all hell and mouthin’ off, as I’m wont to do.  When they finished their little spiel she calmly told them that I was a friend and she’d forgotten that she’d offered me her couch to sleep on.  Mind you, I’d never even stepped foot in her store before that night.

“Well the officers didn’t take too kindly to that.  Blustered and threatened but she never backed down.  I was at least sober enough to go along with her tales, who was I to ruin a perfectly good lie on my behalf?  Finally, they removed the cuffs and took their leave, not without dire warnings and some more threats.  As soon as the door closed behind them Belle invited me up for tea.”

“And you fell in love.  Cute,” Emma tried not to sound bitter but failed completely.

“Nah,” he said with a click of his tongue, “That took a while yet.”

“Okay… so why are you telling me this?”

Will eyed her, “You’re askin’ the wrong question, luv.”

She frowned.  There were a dozen questions she could have asked, least of all why Belle put up with him.  He watched her patiently which only pissed her off.

“I give up,” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re obviously trying to tell me something so just spit it out.”

“You should have asked why I thought I needed a book that bad in the first place,” he stated, as though it were obvious.

“Fine then, why?”

“To broaden my horizons, of course,” he said cheekily with a wide grin.  When she glared at him he grew serious, “Books always have the answer, yeah?  Thought I’d find a way to win back my ex in one of them.”

There was only one ex Will could have been talking about and she’d done a number on him.  The poems he’d written about her were terrible but the broken heart he’d suffered and lashing out he did was worse.  She was still surprised he hadn’t ended up in jail from the stories he’d told her over the years.

“Ana.”

He nodded solemnly, “This was about a year after she’d ended things.  I’d already started playing with you lot but I was still hurtin’.  Probably didn’t help that we rehearsed across from her new husband’s office.  Used to see her stoppin’ by to see him every few weeks.  Couldn’t escape her, even if I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked softly.

“Why didn’t you tell us about what happened with Jones?” He shot back, though not unkindly.  Shrugging he pushed himself forward and set his elbows on his thighs, his hands dangling between his legs, “Self preservation mostly and, yeah, a bit of enjoyin’ the wallowin’.  Then Belle invited me for a cuppa instead of pressin’ charges.  She’d seen my blusterin’ for what it was because she’d had a bit of a rough go of it herself.  A couple of abusive exes will do that to ya.”

She nodded.  Belle hadn’t told her much about her romantic history but what she’d told Emma was enough.

“Anyway we drank the tea, I sobered up, apologized, and that was it.  I went on my way expecting nothing to come of it but another tale to spin for people over a pint-” the soft look returned, “Then a week later I ended up back at the shop.  When it was open of course.  Looked around a bit, chatted with her and then left.  Kept doin’ that a couple times a week for a month or so before I realized I was stoppin’ by every time I’d seen Ana visitin’ her husband.  Stayed away for two weeks after that.  Belle took it all in stride, of course, welcomed me back with another cuppa and a book of poems.”

Emma smiled, knowing exactly when that was.  He’d suddenly stopped writing his own poems and started reading them instead.  She’d noticed that he’d seemed more settled, less angry, and she’d written a song about it.  Will had demanded a writer’s credit as a result.

“That’s when I realized I was fallin’ for her.  Thing was, I had always believed I’d love Ana forever, even if it meant I spend the rest of my days pinin’ after her like a lovesick fool.  Had a real close look at what I was doin’ with my life.  Only stayed away a week that time and asked Belle out to dinner before the door to her shop had closed behind me when I went back.  She said no.”

“She said no?” Emma gasped, having fully expected a cutesy story of their first date to follow.

Will’s smile was enigmatic, “You see while I was having my little crisis of faith Belle was havin’ one of her own.  All she knew about me was I was a terrible thief who played in a band and had an affinity for poetry.  That was enough for any woman to be wary of trusting me and with the number both of her exes did on her she had no trust left to give.  She wanted to say yes but couldn’t bring herself to put everything on the line if there was even the smallest chance of it shattering beneath her.”

She shifted uncomfortably, dropping her gaze to her hands that were perched in her lap.  Unless Ruby or Regina had blabbed no one else knew exactly what had happened with Killian.  All she’d told Will and Tink was that things hadn’t worked out, end of story.  They hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation and she’d thought that was that.  Clearly she was wrong.

“Does Belle know you’re telling me all this really personal information about her?” She asked accusingly, unable to keep herself from lashing out before he prodded a really vulnerable spot.

“Like I said, luv, she noticed there was somethin’ off with you-” he pointed a finger at her, “and before you go accusin’ me of blabbin’ about you to her I haven’t said a word.  I can be a wanker but I do know how to respect a person’s privacy.”

“Why didn’t she say something?”

He sighed, “You two are friendly but you’re not exactly the sharin’ type are ya?  She didn’t feel it was her place to butt into your life.”

“Oh, but it’s yours?” She asked harshly.

“We’re a horse of a different color, you and I,” he said with a conspiratorial air, “Seein’ as our love of music unites us.”

She smacked him in the arm and he gave her a wink in return.  He wasn’t wrong.  When they first met they got along like oil and water but she’d needed a drummer and he genuinely liked her songs.  It had taken a slew of dive bars and a cramped van to tolerate each other and a little over a year before he was one of the few people she considered a tried and true friend.

“She could have talked to me,” she said petulantly.

“And she still might if this-” he waved his hand between them, “here doesn’t take.  But I haven’t finished my story yet.”

“Sorry,” she said, feeling anything but, “continue.”

“Where was I?” He asked cheekily, chuckling at her glare. “Right, I’d decided to woo Belle and she’d wisely decided to protect her heart.  Let me down gently, of course, my Belle.

“I was a bit disappointed but I also knew why she’d said no.  Stopped goin’ round the shop, thought it’d be best to take a step back.  She didn’t need me hangin’ around makin’ things awkward.  Surprised the hell out of me when a month later she showed up at one of our gigs and asked me to dinner as soon as the set was done.  She said that no one had actually listened to her or respected her decisions before, especially her exes, and that even if she didn’t know much about me she was willin’ to give me a chance.  Celebrated three years back in March.”

“I know, you posted it all over Instagram,” she said with only a hint of the frustration she was feeling, “Is that it?”

“Almost,” he said with a chuckle, “Long story short-”

“Too late,” she muttered.

“Belle knew somethin’ was off with you ‘cause she’s been there before and she wanted me to tell you ‘cause she thought I could get you to see what’s in front of your face-” he said with a touch of impatience. “If you broke things off with Jones because he was bloody awful or your personalities didn’t mesh or whatever that’s one thing.  If you did it because you’re scared then that’s somethin’ else.  Okay, now I’m done.”

Emma sat, stunned, as Will stood up and stretched.  He gave the few crew members still clearing the stage a genial wave before offering her his hand.  With a scowl and some reluctance she grabbed it and let him haul her up beside him.  She gave him a wary look, girding herself against more pointed jabs at her emotional expense, but he just spun on his heel and started walking off stage.

“That’s it?!” She called after him, a bit disgruntled.

“I said my piece, luv,” he parried back without turning around. “Besides I’ve my lady love waitin’ for me back at the hotel.  She’s a rare one but I don’t think she’d be too forgivin’ if I spent the whole night with another woman.  Even if it’s you.”

She rushed after him, “You’re not going to try to convince me to call him or… or tell me about how much of a great guy he is or something?”

“I ain’t gonna tell you what to do, luv.  You’re the one that has to decide if you want to keep bein’ miserable or not-” he pulled his phone from his pocket, “I’m orderin’ a Lyft, you wanna ride with?”

“I’ve got a car waiting,” she said absently, still trying to figure out his game.

“Excellent, you got anythin’ you need to grab?” He asked without looking up, tapping away at his phone, “I can wait.”

“No, Ruby grabbed it all for me-” she grabbed his elbow and swung him around to face her, “You’re really not going to say anything else?”

He sighed, “You’ll do what you want and if you actually listened to what I’ve told you then you know there’s nothin’ else I could say.  Now, do you want to stay here until we’re kicked out?”

She looked back across the stage but the magic of the moment was gone.  Now it was just a big empty space with the last of the equipment being rolled out through the wings by the sweaty road crew.

“Fine, let’s go.”

The ride to the hotel was quiet.  Will had clearly said everything he’d wanted to, spending the whole ride furiously texting someone.  For her part she was too pissed off at him while trying desperately not to think too much about what little lesson he’d been trying to get her to understand to say anything remotely close to nice.  When they reached the hotel he stopped her from leaving the car with a hand on her arm.

“One last thing-”

“Really?!” She snapped. “I just want to go up to my room, drink the champagne that I know the label sent, and not think about the emotional vomit you dropped in my lap tonight.”

“It needed to be said,” he stated without a hint of remorse.  Then he squeezed her arm gently and sighed, “Look, I’m gonna send you somethin’ and you need to promise me you’ll look at that first.”

“First?” She asked warily, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.  She’d never taken it off silent and saw that there were way more texts and calls than she’d expected to be there, “What is it?”

“Nothin’ too terrible,” he hedged.

His gaze darted over her shoulder.  When she looked she saw a few paparazzi waiting by flanking the front doors of the hotel.  She turned back to him and saw his jaw ticking.

“Will-”

He ignored her and leaned towards the driver, “Hey, mate, mind pullin’ round the back so we don’t get ambushed?”

“Of course, sir,” the driver said with a nod, immediately pulling away from the curb.

“Will,” she put every ounce of frustration she could into his name.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said absently, back to tapping madly on his phone, “And you know what, don’t look at it until you’re in your room.  Can you do that?”

Just as she was about to grab the hand that was on her arm and twist it until bones cracked the car stopped again.  Looking outside she saw they were at some kind of loading dock and one of the doors was propped open.

“Brilliant,” Will said happily.  He let go of her and fished in his pocket, pulling out a couple of bills that he handed to the driver, “Cheers, mate!”

“Thank you, sir,” the driver said with a nod.  He caught her gaze in the rear view mirror, “Ma’am.”

“Thanks,” she said weakly.  Will was already out of the car and she scrambled out after him, “Wait, you can’t be all cryptic and then just leave me like that.  What the hell is going on?”

“I know you want to punch me in the face-” he squinted his eyes at her, “Nope, you’re ready to murder me on the spot.  Just trust me, luv.  Besides, it wouldn’t do to make a scene out here and bring ‘round those vultures we made a point of avoiding.”

“Fine,” she huffed, pushing past him. “But you’re so on my shit list right now.”

“I’m always on it, luv,” he said with a laugh.

The hotel was five star but the door that had been left open led to a not so pretty hallway.  She’d worked plenty of shitty jobs to know what a service corridor looked like.  There were several stacks of empty milk crates and egg cages lining the walls and from the delicious smells wafting towards her it wasn’t hard to figure out that they were near the kitchens.  She turned back and gave Will an unimpressed look.

“It was this or the paps,” he said unapologetically.  He pointed ahead of them, “That way and then the second right will get you to the lobby.”

“And where are you going?” She asked suspiciously.

“Got a mate that’s holdin’ a bottle of champagne for me that way-” he hitched his thumb to the left. “I’ll let him know you said thanks for sneakin’ you past those vultures.”

He strolled past her, with his hands in his pockets, whistling the damn Backstreet Boys song he’d been singing earlier.  She was torn between wanting to strangle him or begrudgingly thank him.  In the end she settled for glaring at his back and muttering obscenities until he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight.

Twenty minutes later she was finally holed up in her room, freshly showered and wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes with the bottle of champagne in her hand.  All should have been well except for the litany of messages she had.  Will’s wasn’t the most recent and she would have ignored it if he hadn’t said anything but she had a feeling that whatever he had sent her was the reason behind all the other texts and calls.  Her thumb hovered over his message, calculating how much it was going to ruin her night if she ignored it, before she scoffed at herself and tapped on it.

Scarlet: whatever you do don’t kill the messenger ie me

There was a second message, which was a link to YouTube.  She hesitated again, even more so with his ominous message.  When she tapped on the link she felt a momentary flash of panic, nearly closing out the app, because she knew without a doubt that watching the video was going to destroy any semblance of finishing off the night on a high note.

Her panic quickly turned into longing and heartbreak at the sight of Killian on her phone screen.  He was sitting with his guitar in a room she’d never seen before but knew without a doubt was from his place in Boston.  If pressed she wouldn’t have been able to explain how she knew but from the small bits of decor she could make out in the background and his sense of ease in the space were big clues.  Her attention was drawn back to him as he cleared his throat and addressed the camera.

“Er, hello all,” he began sheepishly, his fingers nervously scratching behind his ear as the tips of his ears turned pink.  His hair was in disarray and there were slight shadows under his eyes but he looked good, she would have even said great if there had been anyone around to ask her.  He gave a rueful smile, “I’ve never done one of these, honestly never thought I would seeing as I seemed to have missed the metaphorical boat with this whole video blogging thing-”

Emma snorted in amusement despite herself and muttered, “It’s like he’s three hundred not thirty-three.”

“Aye, I may be belying my age but as you can see I’ve retained my youthful glow,” he said with a cheeky grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

The quip seemed to bolster him, the tension in his shoulders disappeared and he seemed to breathe easier, but it only lasted for a moment.  His smile faded and he dropped his chin, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath.  When he looked back to the camera the look in his eyes made her own breath catch in her throat.

“As many of my fans-” he paused and then gave a mirthless laugh, shaking his head, “Well, let’s be honest, a lot more than just my fans know my story.  My exploits, my tragedies, missteps and extended stays in rehab are just cannon fodder for the gossip mongers that dwell on the internet.  All of that led to my taking a much needed step back from the spotlight that’s lasted a good while.  In that time I’ve continued to play, the creative soul in me would never stand for me not to, but I never thought I’d put pen to paper with the intention of writing a song ever again.

“The accident, yes that fucking accident, took more from me than just my brother and my love that night.  It took the part of me that knew the right words to tease the desired emotion from an audience, how to hook them with a few notes and reel them in with lyrics that sprung from my heart and soul.  Without that-” his voice cracked and he paused again, closing his eyes.  After a few deep breaths he opened them, looking straight into the camera, his pain bare to see, “Without that it’s a wonder I didn’t drink myself to death within six months.”

Her phone screen went blurry and it wasn’t until a drop of water fell onto her hand that she realized she was crying.  Impatiently brushing away the tears she focused back on the video.

He had begun idly picking at the strings of the guitar, “Getting sober was the first step to getting my life back.  One of many.  It’s been a hard road and every day is a struggle in one way or another but it’s a battle I’m willing to fight.  My life, quite literally, depends on it.  Next was getting serious about playing music again.  I’ve spent the past few years not doing much more than recording backing tracks for what seems like every artist under the sun.  I was in a rut and my agent convinced me that it was a sign that it was time to return to the recording booth.  This time as the headliner, as it were.  With no true argument against it I agreed, thinking that if anything I would enjoy a middling solo career out of it.  What I hadn’t counted on was it leading to something that would turn my middling life upside down in the most unexpected of ways.

“You see, I had thought that I would be hoisted off on a producer and bundled to a cabin to write as many songs as possible before being shepherded back to a recording booth.  Handled but not inspired.  Before that could happen, though, another much more appealing opportunity presented itself..  A friend called needing a favor.  One that my agent and the label approved of, though I would have done it regardless”

His finger picking continued as a wistful smile played at his lips.  She couldn’t figure out what he was playing.  It seemed somewhat familiar but his playing was too slow for her to catch the tune.

“In doing this favor I met someone-” he focused on the camera and gave a slight shake of his head, “You know, I never thought I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah... to believe that I could find someone else... until I met her.”

Emma nearly dropped her phone in shock.

“For the first time since I thought I’d lost everything I felt like there was a possibility for me to find it all again.  I found myself wanting- no, needing, to write again.  I think I filled the first notebook within a week.  She inspired me in a way I hadn’t been before.  Then, I was privileged enough to become a part of her life.

“Unfortunately even before we met I had decided that there was no need to share with her what was to be a fairly big change in my life.  I figured, why tell her about making a return to music when I hadn’t truly wanted it to happen in the first place?” he scoffed.  He stopped playing, clenching his hand into a fist, “It was a selfish decision on my part, wanting to bask in the simplicity of what we had for as long as possible before I had to give myself over to the machinations of creating an album.  What I failed so spectacularly at was considering her feelings, her expectations and hopes as to what we could be.  By omitting that truth from the beginning and trying to shield her from it, even believing that I was doing the honorable thing, hurt her far more than telling her from the start.”

She could see the frustration and self loathing in his gaze.  It made her want to soothe him and shake him at the same time.

He blinked, seemingly remembering that he was being filmed and gave a brittle smile to the camera, “It should come as no surprise that it all came ‘round to bite me in the arse.  I’ll admit that I spent a good amount of time as the living embodiment of a Morrisey album.  Listened to a few of them ad nauseum to boot.  It took a good friend knocking some sense into me and a few words of advice Liam had given me long ago: ‘A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets’.

“I deserve every second of her silence, every ounce of her anger, and I will respect her decision regarding us, whatever it may be, but I have one final plea to make.  She may never see this, the bloody idiot that told me to do this will also be editing this and might cut this all out, but I’ve laid myself bare so that she perhaps might come to understand why I’d done the things that hurt her so.

“Sw-” he cut himself off, looking down as his jaw ticked in frustration before he took a breath and looked back to the camera, his gaze sincere and open, “Love, I’m sorry for lying to you.  I’m sorry for making you feel used and unimportant and as though you were dupe in a scheme designed to benefit everyone but yourself.  It was never my intention to make you feel that way but my actions and my lies did so all the same.  I’m sorry, love, for everything.”

Her tears were falling freely but she made no move to brush them away.  They were too quick and numerous for her to bother.  In the video Killian had started playing his guitar again, his fingers plucking out the notes of a tune she still couldn’t place but that he seemed to know very well.

“I wrote this after an eye opening night in Chicago.  This is my truth, love, it was then and it is now.”

With that he began to play in earnest.  She could hear echoes of the songs he’d written with Milah and Liam, a distinctive style that even the chasm of a decade couldn’t erase.  There was something more to it though, a longing in his voice she’d never heard before but it was far from melancholic, she could almost feel a wellspring of hope bubbling within it.  Then she actually listened to the lyrics he was singing.

And all of the steps that led me to you

And all of the hell I had to walk through

But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say

My love, I'm in love with you

The phone tumbled from Emma’s suddenly numb fingers.  The video kept playing but the audio was muffled in the folds of her robe.  Scrambling to pick it back up and muttering curses while desperately trying to hear the rest of the song she fumbled with the phone for what felt like minutes before it was back in her hand and facing the right way.  With a shaking finger she scrolled back until the point where he started to play and began watching again.  When he played the final note she scrolled back and watched it again.  After the fourth time she let the video keep playing, though she could barely focus on it through the sobs she was holding back.

Killian gave the camera a pained smile, his hands folded over his guitar.  He seemed on the verge of saying something and she held her breath.  Instead he shook his head and leaned forward, reaching towards the camera.  The video ended there, an emotionless black screen with links to a few of the more popular music videos that Realm of Jewels had made.  Emma sat staring at the thumbnails in a stupor, her mind whirring with too many thoughts to even begin to process what she was feeling.  It was only when her screen went dark from inactivity that she made a decision.  Unlocking her phone she brought up her contacts and tapped on the name of the person she’d been avoiding talking to for days.  They picked up on the second ring.

“I know it’s late but I need a favor.”