#this fic is so incredibly good I love their childhood dynamic so much

[sturnsdarling]

I don't know how to forget you

matt and y/n have been best friends their whole life, but after a drunken kiss and a night of tangled limbs, everything is changing.

vibe check: smut throughout (pretty equal sex dynamic, softdombutneedy!matt / subbutdeviant!reader), fluff, (resolved) angst, childhood best friends to idiots to idiots in love, y/n is scared of love (aren't we all), soft!matt, depressed!matt/reader, soppy confessions of love

this is a long one, kids: 12k words.

A/N: I LOVE THEM!! anyways this whole thing is based on one of my favourite songs of all time so if you don't know then get to know. I had so much fun writing this so I hope you love it as much as I do. IDIOTS IN LOVE SUPREMACY🗣 also tysm for over 200 followers you guys are insane

moodboards for this fic

love and cigs, merc

You burst into the house back first, Matts hands clawing at your waist and his lips moving against yours in a clash of teeth and tongues, your arms draped over his shoulders as your hands desperately clung to his messy brown hair.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, one hand coming to your jaw to pull you into him deeper. You both clumsily walked towards his bedroom, Matt leading you backwards with closed eyes, just about missing the couch. Your hands left his hair and found the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head with vigour, breaking the kiss for a brief moment before crashing back into each other. Heavy breathing and small moans were the only sound in his house as he attempted to unbutton your shirt, not yet breaking the kiss and fumbling at the tiny circles that kept your body from him. He groaned into the kiss in frustration, biting your lip slightly before tearing your shirt open in one fowl rip. You chuckled into the kiss, Matt followed suit and your back hit the hard wood of his bedroom door, your arm frantically finding the door handle behind you.

When you finally gained entrance, still locked in an all consuming make out session with Matt, you slipped your hands between your bodies and began to untie the knot in his joggers, his whole body twitching at the sensation. Matt broke the kiss, panting, his forehead leaning on yours. 

“I thought you said we weren’t gonna do this anymore” He said through frantic breaths, his lips still brushing yours. 

“I know what I said” you muttered, finally undoing the bow that acted as the gatekeeper between your hand and his aching length, the swift insertion of your cold hand into his warm boxers acting as a mic drop to your statement as you pulled him into you once more. 

“So” Matt pulled away for a brief moment, missing the heat from your plump lips and kissing you before he spoke again, “what’re we doin” he panted. 

“Just shut up and kiss me, Matt” you shook your head, wrapping your hand round the back of his head, nearly giving him whiplash at the speed you pull his lips back to yours. 

One month earlier 

You and Matt had been seeing each other for about six months, it all started as an innocent drunken kiss at a birthday party, that same night ending with you underneath him on his satin sheets, getting pounded into at a rapid rate. You had both decided that, as two consenting adults (your exact words when you propositioned him the idea) you should start sleeping with each other on a regular basis. What was the harm right? The sex was good, you knew each other inside and out, having been friends for basically your whole lives, and you knew that no matter what happened, you’d always love each other unconditionally. 

At first it was amazing, the sex was obviously incredible and, outside of the bedroom, basically nothing changed. No one had even noticed a difference between you two, your dynamic already being touchy and somewhat flirty prior to your decision to hook up every so often.

Despite the occasional stolen glance and white knuckled night out from being forced to watch one another get hit on by random strangers at bars, it was honestly really normal, at least it felt that way.

Being with Matt was easy, he was kind and caring, being around him was like being with yourself, there was no bullshit and no expectations. You just, saw each other, truly and completely. 

As time went on, the sex became something more, it stopped being about simply acting on an urge and started being about the closeness. The intimacy of it all. You craved him, and he was addicted to you. He stopped flirting back with the girls that pushed themselves against him at bars, and you stopped entertaining the boys that bent over backwards to get your attention. Neither of you had noticed it at first but, no one was interesting anymore. No one understood you like the two of you did, no one even came close. No one could make you laugh like he did, and no one could bring him out of his own head like you could. No one knew your body like him, and vice versa, and soon enough, the sex started to change the way you saw each other. 

Instead of seeing Matt, your childhood best friend and the kid that accidentally broke your arm by landing on you at the bottom of a snowy hill when you were kids; you saw Matt, a lingering presence of safety in a crowed room and a blissful night of endless orgasms. Instead of seeing you, the fourth wheel in his little family and the girl that bullied him for being five foot nothing until he was sixteen, he saw you, a beaming ray of light in his life and the sexiest woman he’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

The shift didn’t seem to matter, as far as you were both aware, nothing had changed. That was until one night when you were hanging out with Matt as you always did:

You and Matt were half naked, tangled up in one another on his bed, watching gravity falls for the billionth time and enjoying each others company.

You were rested against his headboard, clad in his t-shirt and your underwear, and he was rested in-between your legs, his bare back comfortably wedged between your thighs as his long, plaid pyjama pant covered legs spread over the length of his bed. Matt turned his head to the side, peppering a small kiss on the side of your leg before shifting to lift himself up off his bed, the loss of his warm pressure against you almost painful. 

“m’gonna go get a drink, baby, y’want anything?” He said, standing up and hovering next to the bed. 

You shook your head, looking up at him, “I’m good, thank you”. 

“Okay” he leant down, the weight of his arms making the bed shift under you as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, your mouths slotting together effortlessly. 

He walked out the room and the door clicked shut. In your momentary solitude, the game changing realisation infiltrated your brain.

He just called you baby, and not when you were fucking, he called you baby like, like it was your name, like it was the easiest thing to call you in that moment, like it felt right to him so he did it, or even worse, that he didn’t even think about it, like that’s who you are to him.

A sudden wave of panic came over you, the events of the last however many months flashing through your brain. The longing looks, the small jealous comments that went over your head, the lingering touches when you were with your friends, his desperation for you after being apart for any longer than a couple days. All of it started to come together in your mind as one big puzzle of ‘holy fucking shit he has feelings for me, and not just I care about you as a friend but I also wanna fuck you feelings, real feelings’. That wasn’t the scary part though, the scary part was how effortless it felt, to you. How it all just made sense with him, how it was never weird or awkward, how you felt completely safe with him, how you felt genuinely and utterly, loved by him. 

Your rapid mind was interrupted by Matt walking back into the room. 

“Chris drank all the fuckin’ soda already, kids an addict I swear to god” he said, holding a glass of lemonade.

You chuckled slightly at his remark, your eyes fixated on your fingers as you picked and pulled at the skin of your thumb. Matt fell backwards onto the bed, half his weight on your legs. The pressure suddenly made you uncomfortable and, without really thinking about it, you pulled your legs from under him and tucked them under yourself. The movement made Matt turn up to look at you, finally noticing your weird demeanour. You never pulled away from him, if anything you did the opposite, especially when you were alone. Matts brows furrowed as he turned to lay on his stomach. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked softly, rubbing a gentle finger on your leg.

You shifted under his touch again, which worried him, a lot. He shifted and raised himself up to sit in front of you. He hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up. 

“What’s the matter?” He questioned, his voice thick with concern. 

You shook your head, his baring blue eyes making you feel claustrophobic in your own skin.

“m’fine” you said, attempting to look away from him. 

Your energy was jarring, and Matt was utterly confused, what the fuck had happened in the maybe twenty-seconds he had been gone and why were you suddenly acting like you didn’t even want to look at him? 

“Y/n/n, I know when you’re lying, what’s wrong?” He said, trying to find your eyes again. 

You didn’t reply, only returned to picking at your thumbs. Matt simply stared at you, unable to understand why you were suddenly a tense and anxious ball of energy. 

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the silence, your voice coming out in a choked strain. 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Matt” your eyes didn’t leave your skin. 

Those nine words hit matt like a bus, knocking the wind out of him as his mouth parted in a feeling he could only describe as agony. 

“Do what? As in, do this” he said, gesturing to himself and then to you. 

You finally raised your head to look at him, a deep sadness hiding behind your emotionless face. “I don’t think it's a good idea, it’s gone on for way longer than either of us expected, and—“ you huffed, “I just can’t do it anymore” you tore your gaze from him, incapable of the decency it took to look him in the eye as you tore his heart from his chest. 

“wh—“ Matt muttered, “where the fuck has this come from?” He shook his head, eyes squinting and brows scrunching together. 

You didn’t reply, only shifted in your own skin. Your aloofness was like sand paper against Matts skin, he barely recognised you. His mind raced with the endless mind boggling possibilities as to why you didn’t want to be with him anymore, but they all centred into one crippling thought. 

“Is there someone else?” He said, his voice dropping an octave. 

“No” you said immediately, the ‘there could never be anyone else’ staying tucked between your teeth as your head shot up to look at him. 

“So what is then? Did I— did I do something?” His tone faltered, coming out as almost apologetic. 

You shook your head, gnawing at the inside of your cheeks, “I just — you — I — ” you couldn’t find the words to make it make sense, because it didn’t, it didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of the walls closing in around you. 

“Y/n/n” your name rolled off his tongue like honey, his head shifting on his shoulders towards you slightly, his brows still knit firmly together in confusion that looked a lot like sadness. 

“I have to go” you said, unable to look at him for a second longer in fear of bursting into tears. 

“Wait—” he said, reaching out for you as you climbed off the bed and picked up your jeans that were sprawled across the floor.  

“Matt, I have to go” you cut him off, picking up your things and hurrying out the door, not looking at him for even a split second. 

You shut the door behind you and he opened it almost immediately, following you out into his kitchen, watching as you raced down the stairs.

“Y/n” he called out your name, but your pace didn’t falter, and in a flash and a slam of his front door, you were gone. 

He stood at the top of the stairs, blinking at the closed door a head of him. 

On the sofa, Chris and Nick were staring at him, waiting for him to say something and sharing flitting glances back and forth with one another. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Chris said, breaking the deafening silence. 

“Is she okay?” Nick followed his brothers questioning. 

“I have no idea” Matt said, that simple fact being the only thing he did know. 

You threw yourself into your car, slamming the door shut. The sound rang through your ears and the silence that filled the vehicle after was enough to send you tumbling into your sadness. Tears brimmed at your eyes as heavy, fast pants rapidly escaped your nose, you felt awful, you had no idea what you were doing, why did you leave like that? Why didn’t you just talk to him, he’s your best friend, why didn’t you just say something? Anything? What would you even say? I think you’re in love with me and I’m terrified that I love you too? Being with you like this has been the best six months of my life? the thought of losing you makes me feel like I'm dying? Any attempt to try and put how you felt into words made you spiral, and after a pent up moment of burning holes into the black leather of your steering wheel, the flood gates opened. 

“Fuck!” you screamed, tears cascading down your face and you hit the wheel with the palm of your hands over and over again.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were drowning in your own mind and had no way of coming to the surface. Your relentless mind was exhausting, and when your hands started to sting from your merciless slaps against the brittle leather, you clutched the wheel, resting your forehead against the material with closed eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with me” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head against the wheel. 

You pulled one hand off the wheel and turned the key in the exhaust, starting the car as you lifted your head, taking a deep, calming inhale.

You gripped the wheel once more, turning your head and looking to Matts house, all you wanted was to go back inside, tell him that you’re scared, absolutely fucking terrified of how you feel about him, but you didn't, instead, you clenched your jaw, ripped your gaze from the house and pulled out into the street. 

On your drive home through the nearly empty LA highways, your mind raced with the events of the last six months, the orange streetlights periodically illuminating your car. Your playlist blared through the speakers on full volume as your unsuccessful attempt to drown out the sound of your own thoughts was brought to fruition, ‘sex’ by eden started to play, the drums and claps filling your senses as the piano melody took your mind to the last six months. 

The longing looks;

You were wrapped in a fluffy towel, your wet hair cascading down your shoulders as you lazily rubbed moisturiser over your clean face in Matts bathroom mirror. The door clicked open, and Matt softly padded into the damp steamy room, cold air following him in. His presence didn’t disturb you, you continued to do your skincare routine as he came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and sneaking his long tattooed arms around your waist. Neither of you said anything, you didn’t even look at him. In that moment, his presence was simply an extension of your existence.

As you softly massaged a hydrating serum into your soft skin, Matt couldn’t help but stare at you in the reflection. He loved you like this, your most pure and natural self, skin still littered with drops of water from the shower and your hair forming loose curls as it dried messily over your shoulders.

He watched you intently from his perched position just beside the curve of your neck. He thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and he could never get tired of looking at you. His gaze was heavy on your face, and once you’d finished applying all of your products, you let your eyes flit to his in the mirror, finally locking eyes with him. His mouth instantly curling up into a smile when you shot him a small grin. 

“You’re so beautiful” he said, his eye contact never wavering. 

Your smile grew and you dropped your head slightly, shaking it with an embarrassed chuckle. 

Matt squeezed you tighter to gain your attention again, missing the piercing warmth your eyes gave him. He picked his head up slightly and began to pepper short pecks on your damp, vanilla scented skin. The pecks slowly turned to small open mouth kisses, the warmth of his tongue against your skin sending shivers up your spine and encouraging a pool of wetness to collect between your legs. You let your head hang to the side slightly as he moved his kisses up your neck, stopping as he reached just below your ear. You whined as he pulled away and he laughed slightly, moving his hands to your waist and turning you round to face him.

The base of your spine was pressed against the marble counter top and Matt stared down into you, his hands absentmindedly rubbing circles against the towel that covered you. He effortlessly lifted you up and placed you on the sink, his hands finding your jaw once you landed the short jump. 

“I mean it, y’know, I think you might be the prettiest girl in the entire universe” his thumbs pressing into your cheeks as his slender fingers wrapped around the nape of your neck. 

His eyes were baring into yours, flitting between the left and right as an uncontrollable smile engulfed your face as you batted your lashes at him, returning his stare with doe eyes that almost made his knees buckle. 

“That’s a pretty damning statement, Matthew, I’m not sure I can live up to that title” You quipped, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him against you, aching for friction as you throbbed at his words. 

“There’s no question about it, pretty girl, no one even comes close” he said, pushing his jogger clad, growing bulge against your desperate core and pulling your impossibly close to him. 

“Let me show you how beautiful you are” he said, just before pulling you into a wet and tender kiss.

You moaned against his lips as Matt ground his hips into yours, his fingers digging into the nape of your neck. He moved his kisses down your jaw, his tongue flat against the bone as he worked his way down your neck and along the top of the white towel that separated his mouth from his favourite part of you. A soft hand came up to the fold in the fabric and tugged at it, causing it to drop from your body and fall onto the cold marble beneath you. The sudden exposure made all the tiny hairs on your body stand on edge as Matt ogled your body, taking you in like it was the first time he was seeing you bare like that, not the hundredth.

"you're so fuckin' sexy" he uttered, shaking his head in disbelief at the sight of your still slightly wet skin glistening for him.

You rested back on the palms of your hands and spread your legs wider for him, giving him a full view of your pretty pussy that was already slick to the touch. A hungry grunt left his throat at the sight of you baring yourself to him, and without hesitation, Matt dropped to his knees and hooked your legs over his shoulders, pressing bruises into the soft, squishy skin.

You squealed slightly as he tugged at your thighs, bringing your throbbing core only centimetres away from his face. He licked his lips like an animal spotting its prey and leaned forward, pressing a soft and sloppy kiss onto your clit. your back arched into the pressure of his tongue against you as he started lapping at your soaked core, moaning at the taste of you on his lips. Your fingers raked through his hair and tugged at the root, pushing him further into you as your hips involuntarily bucked into his face, grinding against his mouth as he worked his tongue over your weeping pussy.

His hand snaked its way down your leg, his blunt fingernails scratching down your skin as he brought his digits to to just below his chin, rubbing small circles at your entrance with the tip of his long finger, teasing your walls as they clenched around nothing, desperate for him to give you what he knows you want.

"mhph, Matt, please" you whined with furrowed brows, hips slowly grinding against his face.

Matt looked up at you with smiling, prideful eyes, dipping his middle finger into your soaked hole just enough to elicit a broken moan from your throat. As your walls loosened their grip around his finger, he slipped his ring finger inside, pushing them both in to the knuckle as he sucked on your clit, eyes still baring up into you as your head hung loose on your neck.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, but his pace on your clit was fierce, as if he was attempting to suck the air from your lungs out from of your pussy.

Your high was fast approaching, and your whole body began to tense above him, your legs unintentionally closing shut around his head. Matt didn't care, he wanted you to close him in, keep him there for the rest of time so he could make you cum all over his face over and over again until you felt as if you could pass out from exhaustion.

His fingers began to curl up into that blissful sweet spot, your stomach tensed in response and he knew you were close to coming undone. He slurped and lapped at your folds, his tongue dipping between them to catch the very centre of your clit, toying with the nub as he relentlessly filled your walls with his long fingers.

"Oh, fuck, Matt" the pressure of his tongue against you was euphoric, and a wave of tingles covered every inch of your body.

Your walls were a vice around his fingers and, with a tantalising suck on your sensitive nub, you released warm cum all over his hand. You shook above him, your vision going blurry as he continued to devour you, bringing you to a white hot level of ecstasy that left you a blubbering, whimpering mess on the bathroom counter.

When your legs stopped tensing and hung lazily over his shoulders, Matt pulled his fingers from you, licking them clean just before placing a soft peck on your puffy clit. The feeling made you jolt and he chuckled, his warm breath acting as a soothing wind to your sensitive pussy.

Matt got to his feet, his hands instantly gripping at your thighs to wrap you around him once again. He kissed you like he was a man eating his last meal, the taste of yourself still heavy on his tongue as it pressed and pushed against yours.

"taste that, pretty girl? you're beautiful even down to the sweetness of your perfect pussy" He pulled away from you, to say just before biting down on your parted bottom lip

The small, jealous comments that went over your head;

You, the boys and a few of your mutual friends were in a bar somewhere in downtown LA. Your hands were pressed against the wood of the bar as you waited to be served, the crowds of people surrounding you making you somewhat invisible to the bartender who, famously served all the influencers first and annoyingly ignored anyone who didn’t have a brand deal or over a million followers. 

“Hey gorgeous” an unfamiliar voice disturbed your failed attempt to order a round for your table. 

You looked to the side, and were met with the glaring stare and bitten lip of yet another guy who wanted to buy you a drink and disappoint you sexually. 

“Hi” you said, turning your attention away from him just as fast as he caught it. 

“Can I just say, you’re the hottest chick in this whole bar” he rested a sweaty hand on your shoulder. 

You shrugged off his touch and looked back to him, “thanks” you said quickly, instantly skeeved out by the feeling of his hand on your skin. 

“Let me buy you a drink” he said in what seemed like his attempt at a seductive tone, bringing his hand back up to you and pushing your hair off your shoulder, letting it fall down your back. 

“I’m good, dude, I’m just trying to get a round for me and my friends” you shifted away from him. 

He edged closer to you, running his fingers down your arm and grasping at your hand, 

“I can get the round, I’ve got money like that, baby” 

The name made you feel physically sick, and before you could open your mouth to tell him to kindly fuck off, the comforting sound of Matts voice rang through your ears. 

“You good, y/n/n?” He said, coming up next to you and wrapping a tight hand around your waist, pulling you into him, his eyes never leaving the meathead trying to touch his girl.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy said, instantly squaring up to Matt. 

“S’not important, dude, jus’ leave her alone, yeah?” He said, shifting slightly towards the guy, his hand never leaving your waist. 

“What are you, her boyfriend or something?” He laughed, pressing firm fingers into Matts shoulder. 

Matt chucked at the attempt to rile him up, pulling his arm from your waist and planting himself directly in front of the dickhead that just pushed his shoulder. 

Your hand pressed against his chest, bringing him back down to reality as he looked down into your soft, sparkle covered eyes. 

“Don’t” you said, applying a warm pressure to his sternum. 

His jaw clenched as his heart rate slowed, the feeling of your hand against his chest a soothing balm to the burning rage that had ignited in him. 

“Fuck off, dude, m’not interested in whatever you think you’re gonna get out of this” you said, pushing Matt behind you and giving the creep the dirtiest look you could muster up. 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “whatever, bitch, you’re ugly as fuck anyway” he said as he sulked away. 

“Oh, I’m gonna break his fuckin’ jaw” Matt said, attempting to slip out from behind you and follow the guy through the bar. 

“Matt” you said, grabbing his hand, “leave it” you said, pulling him back to you, catching his eye-line, “I’m fine, okay? He’s irrelevant”. 

He stood a few feet away from you with a clenched jaw, his hand still in yours as you glared at him. He rolled his eyes and returned to your side. 

“Kids just asking to get his shit rocked” he huffed, resting a protective hand on the base of your spine. 

“I'm sure someone will knock him out at some point” you said, a smirk forming on your face as you returned your attention to the bar tender. 

“I could have blinded him just for talking to you” he muttered, watching as the same guy sauntered over to other helpless victim. 

“Fuckin’ idiot thinks he has a chance in hell, tryna hold your hand and shit” he scoffed, “dickhead” Matt spat, finally tearing his eyes off the guy. 

You peered up at Matt and he met your gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips at the sight of you. You chuckled and shook your head, and just as you were about to tell him how sexy he is when he’s angry, you were interrupted by the bartender. 

“What can I get for you?”

The lingering touches when you were with your friends;

You were all hanging out at the boys’ house, watching films and talking about nothing, and everything. You were perched on the sofa, both of your legs tucked under yourself as you lazily scrolled on your phone. Matt was next to you, his legs in a wide man-spread as his back rested against the plush sofa cushions. His arm was rested against the back of the couch behind you, a comfortable warmth engulfing you just enough to not rouse any suspicion. 

His fingers absentmindedly traced he curve of your bare shoulder as he joked with Nate and Chris, all three of them laughing about something you weren’t listening to. 

“Y/n/n” Nick said from the kitchen, bringing your attention away from your phone, “can you come help me with this, I’m so fucking confused” he said, holding a cookie ingredient box in his hands, reading the back with furrowed brows. 

You looked over Matts shoulder towards the kitchen and let out a short chuckle, “Yeah, sure”. You shifted, and placed your feet on the floor, using Matts leg to help you up from your comfortable position on the sofa. 

The pressure of your hand against his leg went straight to his crotch, and as if on instinct, his hand met yours on his thigh for a moment as you pushed yourself up. You turned to look down at him over your shoulder as your hand slipped from under his, he looked at you like you were the only person in the room and you returned the favour, padding away from him and facing your attention towards Nick, who was standing, baffled in the kitchen over the instructions that ‘made no fucking sense’. 

His desperation for you after being apart for any longer than a couple days;

“Fuck, angel, I missed your pussy so fuckin’ much” Matt grunted into your neck as he pounded into you, slow and hard, sucking on the curve of your jaw and occasionally biting down on your soft skin. 

Your moaned at his words, legs wrapped tight around him with your feet locked at his waist, your hands clawed at his back as he stretched you out, the sensation of him relentlessly hammering into you completely overwhelming your senses. The weight of his body against yours was blissful, his warm skin pressed against yours as you kissed and sucked at his shoulder, desperate to feel every part of him against every part of you. His hands were pressing bruises into every inch of your skin, the feeling of you clenching around him sending him into ecstasy as he thrust in and out of your sopping pussy. 

“Y’so fuckin’ perfect, literally perfect, this pussy was made f’me, made jus’ f’me” he was rambling, desperate to let you know how much he had missed you. 

“Mphm, Matt, don’t stop, please, don’t stop” you whined as he hit that gummy spot deep inside you, his dick nestling perfectly inside your slick walls. 

“Keep saying my name like that, please baby, say it again f'me” He said, craning his neck up to look down at you, his eyes fluttery at the heavenly feeling of being completely surrounded by you. 

“Matt” you moaned, throwing your head back as he thrust deeper inside of you, the soft pressure of the top of his pelvis periodically pressing against your puffy clit. 

Matt groaned, dipping his head down to capture your neck in a tingling bite, just before soothing the sting with a warm and flat tongue. 

“Ugh, Matt” you whimpered, squeezing your legs tighter round him, your hands finding his sweaty curls. 

Matt near enough growled into your skin, picking up his pace as he hungrily fucked you with unwavering force into his bed. The sting of your fingers pulling his hair, coupled with the pulsating heat of your throbbing pussy sent him over the edge. With a loud grunt and stuttering hips, he came harder than he had in weeks, his vision going blurry as he nestled himself further into the crook of your neck, biting down on the fleshy meat of your shoulder. He slowed his pace completely, slowly fucking his cum into you until he felt paralysed by your warmth. 

“Jesus Christ” he uttered into your hair. 

You peppered kisses along his broad shoulder and up his neck, biting at his earlobe, earning an involuntary buck of his hips into your cum soaked hole. He begrudgingly pulled out of you, his soft dick hanging down between his legs as he fell down on top of you, his crushing body weight making you sink into the mattress. Your hands played with his hair as he caught his breath, head rested on your bare chest and hands rubbing at your boiling skin. 

“Take it you missed me then?” You muttered, enamoured with his tired and fucked out frame lazily pressed against you. 

He simply nodded against your skin, bringing a large hand up to palm the curve of your breast. “S’much” he said, just before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it with vigour. 

You giggled at the sensation, shifting under him slightly as he pressed his already hardening dick against your thigh.

“Matt” You laughed, squirming under his touch. 

In one swift movement, he flipped you both over so that you were ontop of him, your wet pussy pressed against the base of his sticky cock. 

“Need more, princess, now, please” Matt said, a spread hand coming up your spine and he brought you down to him. His hand gripped the back of your neck as he kissed you like he was starved of your touch.

“m’never gonna get enough a’you” He moaned into the kiss, the feeling of your folds brushing up and down his stiff cock sending him into heavenly overstimulation. 

The final beat of the song brought you back to reality,

and before you realised it, you were back at your apartment, pulling into your parking lot and making your way up to your empty home. 

Your apartment was covered with Matt; a spare pair of his dirty, beat up airforces sat next to your messy array shoes by the front door, dried out flowers in jars were scattered around your whole apartment, all ones he had gotten you for birthdays or special achievements, or just because he saw them and thought of you. His jackets were hung up on your hooks, and his shirts were thrown lazily into your laundry baskets. Cards and notes were littered on your fridge and window sills, all just little messages he’d leave you throughout your entire friendship, even before you started sleeping together. 

You kicked off your shoes and padded over to the fridge to get some water, old photos and memories stared back at you. Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the door, but your arm didn’t budge, your attention was fixated on the array of photos stuck to the fridge. 

You had a photo of you and the boys when you were younger, your mum had found it when she was clearing out some old stuff and you simply had to steal it from her albums. There was another photo that Nick had taken at some party you don’t really remember and then there were two photos of you and Matt. One of them was a photo booth picture from some influencer thing he dragged you to, and the other was from your birthday last year. Just below the pictures, Matt had stuck a note under the floral magnet, you had no idea when he did it and honestly didn’t even notice it until that very moment. The note read, ‘hi, you’re pretty, have a nice day’ in what looked like his best attempt to have neat hand writing. 

You glanced over the photo from your birthday, it was just after you guys had started seeing each other, and the boys had decided celebrating your birthday away from LA was non negotiable, so you all went home to Boston and had a proper family birthday. It was perfect, and for that short week, everything in your life felt like it was finally falling into place. Tears began to prick at your puffy eyes once more as you stared at the picture, his strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, a cheesy grin spread across your face as he made one of his usual silly faces for the lens of Nicks camera. 

Your heart sunk in your chest, and for the first time since you met Matt all those years ago, you felt completely alone. You had done the one thing you were the most afraid of being done to you; you had walked out on him, without even stopping to tell him why. You had acted like everything you hated, and the shame you felt, coupled with a deep sadness and a looming feeling of heavy regret were all only exacerbated by the fact that, the only person you wanted to speak to about how you were feeling, was Matt. 

Back at his house, Matt was in his living room, sat across from his brothers, his elbows rested on his wide knees as his head hung on his neck, resting in his palms.

“You and y/n have been… fucking?” Chris said, fully spread across the sofa as he stared at Matt in bewilderment. 

“Don’t say it like that, Chris” Nick hit Chris on the chest, turning back to Matt and perching his head on his hand, looking at him with soft features that reassured Matt that he was listening, “carry on, Matt” he said. 

“It um— it started about six months ago, after Quens’ birthday party, d’you remember?” He said, brushing his hair out his face with a huff. 

“Oh, yeah, I remember that, you guys ended up kissing during that weird card game, right?” Nick said, recounting his hazy memories from the party. 

Matt nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, “We ended up sleeping together that night, I brought her back here and she snuck out in the morning before you guys woke up”

“You sneaky motherfucker, if this whole situation wasn’t depressing as fuck I’d be so proud of you dude.” Chris leant forward and grabbed Matts shoulder, shaking him slightly and beaming at him, trying to coax a smile out of him. 

A lazy smile creeped its way onto Matts face as Chris patted his back, that alone was enough to let him know that behind his sad eyes, Matt was still in there somewhere. 

“Wait, so, what happened? Why did she suddenly decide that she doesn’t want to see you anymore?” Nick pushed, just as confused as his younger brother. 

“I’ve got no fuckin’ idea, one minute we were fine, just chilling and watching gravity falls, and the next, she won’t even look at me” Matt sighed, his voice cracking as he spoke. He threw himself back onto the sofa and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands, groaning and trying not to cry. 

Chris and Nick shared a worried look, furrowed brows and concerned eyes pouring into each other as they both returned their attention to Matt, who was still shifting in his skin, the most worked up they’ve seen him in, well, in six months actually.

“Hey, kid, it’s gonna be okay, okay?” Chris placed a comforting hand on Matts knee, squeezing it slightly, “we’ve known her for like literally forever, whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll figure it out and come back” 

“Yeah” Nick said, moving to sit on the other side of Matt, “maybe she’s just having a moment or something? You know how she gets sometimes” he reassured Matt with a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m just—she jus’—I just don’t understand” Matt shook his head, hands raking down his face as frustrated tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. 

“Hey” Chris said gently, his voice wavering at the sight of Matt nearly crying, “Its okay, bro, you’ll figure it out, and besides even if you never get to fuck her again, I’m sure you’ll always be best friends” 

“Chris” Nick said quietly through gritted teeth, his hand gently rubbing Matts shoulder as he shot Chris a glaring look. 

“What?” Chris replied, innocently, not understanding what he said wrong. 

Matts head rolled against the back of the sofa, he let out a small chuckle and shook his head, a groan slipping from his lips, “I don’t care if I never get to sleep with her again dude, I jus’—“ he sighed, “I think I’m in love with her” he closed his eyes and squeezed his back teeth together, clenching his jaw as a throttling wave of sadness came over him, “and now I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to tell her” 

In the month between you walking out and you both crashing back into each other,

you didn’t see Matt or the boys once. You completely isolated yourself, refusing to even think about what had happened. The night you came home, after hours of crying in the shower and wanting the world to swallow you hole, you decided that simply forgetting it ever happened was the best plan of action. If it never happened, then it didn’t need to matter. But it did happen, and it did matter and you became a shell of yourself, existing on auto pilot everyday. 

All you did was work and sleep, your social life becoming quickly non existent without the boys to coax you into actually leaving the house. You stopped replying to anyones messages in the first week, turning off all notifications and letting the little red bubble get longer and longer as the messages piled up in your phone. Everyday you managed to get yourself out of bed was a miracle, and if you showered and brushed your hair, it should have counted as an eighth wonder of the world. Your life had become an agonising picture coloured by shades of grey, all of the colour being stripped from your world when you slammed the door in your best friends face. 

You couldn’t understand why you couldn’t just call him, tell him that you were sorry, that you freaked out and acted like a fucking idiot, and that all you’ve ever wanted is for him to be around forever, in whatever shape that may take. You loved him, you had loved him since you were a child, but having sex with him, and being his in those fleeting moments of passion made you fall in love with him, and the thought of that made you feel like you were driving down the highway on the wrong side, cars flying towards you at a hundred miles per hour as someone blindfolded you and told you to keep driving. But not because of him, he was perfect. He was one of the only people in the world who you really trusted, who you knew you could always rely on no matter what and no questions asked. It was because of you, something inside of you felt broken, and you had no idea how to fix it. 

Matt wasn’t doing any better;

Unless he had to film or take a meeting, he barely left his room. He pushed away any attempt from his brothers to talk about you or what had happened since the night he told them about the two of you, not wanting to be reminded of the agonising feeling that had wedged itself between his ribs since the night you left.

His temper was shorter than ever, constantly snapping at one of the boys for tiny things and losing his shit every time a minor inconvenience happened. His parents got word of the fact that you two had stopped talking and tried to be there for him, your mum too, but he pushed everyone away. No one had the ability to crawl inside his brain and plant flowers in his weeds like you did, and he knew that, so he didn’t see the point in letting anyone even try.

After a certain point he stopped talking to everyone, only interacting with Chris or Nick when he really needed to and ignoring all the calls from Nate, his parents or Justin. He just wanted to be left alone, because at least then his reality would reflect how he felt. You had left a gaping hole in his life and slowly but surely, he was falling deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of that hole, letting the heavy sadness consume him with reluctant acceptance. 

Despite his temper and moping about, his brothers never stopped trying; 

A soft tap rattled his door, and a few seconds after, it creaked open, letting in a slither of light into his dark bedroom. 

“Matt? We’re gonna go get wing stop, d’you wanna come?” Chris said softly, peering his head through the crack in the door. 

Matt didn’t respond, he was tucked up to his neck in his duvet in his dark room, the only light in the room being that of his low brightness computer screen playing an array of depressing songs on loop and the light that Chris had welcomed in when he opened the door. 

“Matt, dude, you haven’t left your room in days, you gotta eat something” Chris sighed, his refusal to accept this new version of Matt apparent. 

Matt simply turned away from the door, turning his back to Chris in a silent ‘fuckin’ leave me alone’. Chris huffed, shaking his head and clicking the door shut. 

Nothing was working, and they had no idea if he was ever going to be okay again. Normally, he would mope about for a couple days and then be back to his usual silly, kind self. But this was different, he seemed completely void of anything that made Matt, Matt. 

Nick was fed up of his behaviour, and despite Chris’ constant battle with him over ‘just giving it time’, Nick knew, as his older brother and best friend, that it had all gone too far. So he took matters into his own hands.

That night, Nick got an uber to your apartment,

knowing it was your day off work and that you were almost definitely in the same position as Matt; not leaving your house or talking to anyone.  

The uber pulled up next to your apartment block and he got out the car, striding up the stairs to the entrance and relentlessly pounded against your front door. The sound made you jump in your skin, pulling your attention away from the last episode of season two of gravity falls, a show that hadn’t left your tv in weeks. When you didn’t answer the door to the first round of banging, it started again and you reluctantly pushed yourself off your sofa and walked over to the door as it vibrated on its hinges. 

“Okay, okay, m’coming, Jesus Chris” you groaned.  

When you opened the door, you were met with a face you hadn’t seen in weeks. 

“Nick?” Your face dropped in confusion.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n/n” he started sounding off immediately, pushing himself into your apartment. 

“wha—“ you started to speak, but were immediately cut off. 

“In what universe is it okay to just go completely ghost on your best fucking friend? What the fuck were you thinking? Matt has been in a shit state since you ran out that night and I’m fuckin’ sick of it! He’s angry at everyone, he’s nearly gotten in actual fights with me and Chris about a thousand times and he’s even stopped talking to our parents. Our parents y/n.” Nicks face was nearly bright red with anger as he paced around your apartment. 

“Nick, I—“ you folded your arms over your chest, his words hitting you like bullets of reality. 

“No. I’m not finished.” He held his hand up to stop you speaking, “I don’t know what the fuck happened between the two of you, but you need to sort it out, because I can’t sit here and watch this all unfold anymore. I think what you fail to remember, is that despite the fact that you were fucking him, he was also supposed to be your best friend. We all were. When you walked out on him, you also walked out on me and Chris. You left us all high and dry without a single explanation and zero entrance back into your life to try and figure out what the fuck happened.” Nick finished his rant and took a deep inhale, his first real breath since he stepped foot in your apartment. 

The apartment was silent for a moment, you not knowing whether or not he was finished. “Can I speak now?”

“G’head” Nick replied, raising a hand, gesturing you to say your part. 

“I’m sorry that I walked out.” You said, it being the only thing you could think to say in that moment, “I didn’t know he was going through all of that” you said, averting your gaze to the floor. 

Nick chuckled in disbelief, “cut the shit, y/n/n” he said, “you know what he’s like, probably better than anyone. You know because you’re exactly the same, I mean, look at you, you look like shit” he said, not holding back, then again, when did he ever. 

You looked back up at him and couldn’t help but chuckle as his insult, “What are you talking about? M’fine” you shrugged. 

“Yeah sure you are, kid” Nick rolled his eyes, taking a few steps forward and lingering just in front of you. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, and honestly I don’t really care. But I do care about him, and I care about you, and I know that this is killing you as much as its killing him. so just stop being a fucking idiot and go tell him that you love him, because I’m tired of his stinking fuckin’ attitude and I miss you, I miss my best friend, we all do, Matt more than anyone” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his warm skin pulling a single brick from the dam that had all your crippling emotions stuffed behind it. 

Tears brimmed at your eyes and Nick sighed, bringing you into an all encompassing hug, holding your head against his chest as you sobbed into him. He held you like that for a while, letting you cry in his arms as he cooed and rubbed the back of your head in the gentle embrace you were wrapped in. When you finally stopped shaking, you pulled away from him, wiping your tears and looked up at him through wet lashes. 

“What if he hates me?” You sniffled, your voice still shaky. 

Nick shook his head with a breathy laugh out his nose, “I don’t think he could hate you even if he wanted to, you’re everything to him” 

You and Nick shared another hug before he said he had to go and meet everyone in the city, asking you if you wanted to come and not pressing when you shook your head no, telling him you just needed to be alone. He left and you were alone again, your mind now racing with everything he had said, his words giving you the reality check you needed.

Back at the boys' house,

Matt was padding around the kitchen, he had left his room about ten minutes after he heard the front door click shut and he knew he was alone. As he shuffled around in the cupboards looking for a bowl for his hundredth meal of instant noodles, the front door slammed shut, and a burning annoyance filled his entire body. Chris came bounding up the stairs, seemingly in a hurry, but stopped in his tracks at the sight of Matt, actually out of his bedroom. 

“Oh, you’re up, I jus’ came back ‘cause I forgot my wallet” he said, grabbing his wallet off the table. 

Matt didn’t respond, he didn’t even acknowledge Chris’ presence. 

Chris went to leave, rolling his eyes and not even attempting to bother trying anymore but, in true Chris fashion, he was determined to find his brother inside this strange ghost that had infiltrated his home. 

“Look, dude, I know you’re hurting, trust me I get it but, you can’t keep letting this bring you down forever. There has to be a point were you realise that this isn’t healthy” He sighed, walking back to stand next to the table. “I know you love her, and I know that this whole situation is killing you, but maybe if you jus —“ he sighed, “maybe if you jus fuckin’ speak to her then you can sort all of this out, she can come back and everything can be normal again, ‘cause, its hard as fuck seeing you like this man and, even though I don’t love her like you do, I miss her too, she’s been around forever and it feels like we're a table missing a fuckin’ leg or some shit so, jus’ speak to her. what’s the harm in just trying, y’know?” 

Matt, with his back still to Chris, shifted where he stood slightly, opening his mouth to reply but swallowed his words. 

Chris sighed and shook his head, turning on the balls of his feet and running down the stairs. The slam of the front door echoed through the house, and Matt was soon left with the deafening silence left by Chris’ absence.

His brothers words ran laps around his mind, he knew he was right, this couldn’t go on forever, and he should just speak to you, but how was he even supposed to begin to try? Was he supposed to just show up at your apartment, tell you how he was dying inside, how this past month had been the hardest of his entire life and that he had missed you every single second of every day that passed painstakingly slowly? Was he supposed to just show up at your home, grab you by the face and tell you that he loved you and that he never wanted to be without you ever again? As the rapid thoughts bounced like pinballs against the walls of his skull, he realised that, that was exactly what he was going to do. 

He slammed the cupboard door shut and strode over to the table, picking his keys up and near enough sprinting down the stairs, not even stopping to put shoes on as he pulled the front door open and stepped out in front of his house. 

As he stepped out into his front yard, his heart fell down into his stomach at the sight of your shadowy frame, standing just a few feet from his front door, arms crossed over your pyjama top clad chest. He was paralysed, he didn’t know if he was dreaming or, if somewhere between the kitchen and the door he fell over and cracked his head open.

“Y/n” he choked out, it being the only thing he could muster up in that moment. 

“Hi” you said in a small voice, a shy smile finding your lips at the sound of him saying your name. 

Matt couldn’t move, feeling as though the ground had grown hands that had wrapped themselves around his ankles. You made the first move, taking a step into the light, the orange street lamp illuminating your features. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you, your beautiful face in his sights again after what felt like an eternity.

You walked closer to him, warmth radiated off him as he stared down at you with a slightly parted mouth. Neither of you spoke, you had no idea what to say, you just stared into each other for that long moment, the world shifting on its axis around you as suddenly, face to face like this, you felt like the only two people in the entire universe. Your eyes flitted between his, your lips periodically getting caught between your teeth as you tried to think of something, anything to say.

Matts eyes explored your face, as if he was memorising every inch of it incase it was the last time he was seeing you, incase this wasn’t real and he was asleep in his dark room. His gaze flitted to your plump lips and it sent a twinge up your spine, and without thinking, you latched your hands round the back of his head and pulled him down into you in a feverish, desperate kiss. He returned the kiss almost immediately, his hands slipping round your waist and pulling you into him in a frenzied attempt to feel you close to him again. 

You burst into the house back first, Matts hands clawing at your waist and his lips moving against yours in a clash of teeth and tongues, your arms draped over his shoulders as your hands desperately clung to his messy brown hair.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, one hand coming to your jaw to pull you into him deeper. You both clumsily walked towards his bedroom, Matt leading you backwards with closed eyes, just about missing the couch. Your hands left his hair and found the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head with vigour, breaking the kiss for a brief moment before crashing back into each other. Heavy breathing and small moans were the only sound in his house as he attempted to unbutton your shirt, not yet breaking the kiss and fumbling at the tiny circles that kept your body from him. He groaned into the kiss in frustration, biting your lip slightly before tearing your shirt open in one fowl rip. You chuckled into the kiss, Matt followed suit and your back hit the hard wood of his bedroom door, your arm frantically finding the door handle behind you.

When you finally gained entrance, still locked in an all consuming make out session with Matt, you slipped your hands between your bodies and began to untie the knot in his joggers, his whole body twitching at the sensation. Matt broke the kiss, panting, his forehead leaning on yours. 

“I thought you said we weren’t gonna do this anymore” He said through frantic breaths, his lips still brushing yours. 

“I know what I said” you muttered, finally undoing the bow that acted as the gatekeeper between your hand and his aching length, the swift insertion of your cold hand into his warm boxers acting as a mic drop to your statement as you pulled him into you once more. 

“So” Matt pulled away for a brief moment, missing the heat from your plump lips and kissing you before he spoke again, “what’re we doin” he panted. 

“Just shut up and kiss me, Matt” you shook your head, wrapping your hand round the back of his head, nearly giving him whiplash at the speed you pull his lips back to yours. 

He kissed you back hungrily, groaning into your mouth as he pushed you backwards onto his bed. You hit the bed with a small whimper as his mouth detached from yours, his tongue flattening against your neck, then your chest, then your stomach and then back up the way he came.

Your hands latched onto his curls as your back arched at the sensation of his mouth against you for the first time in what felt like forever. He moaned against your skin, grinding his hard cock into your desperate core, your clothes creating a frustrating amount of friction between the two of you.

He bucked his hips into yours, your legs tightening around his waist with every thrust. You were desperate, and he was starved of you. His large came to your open shirt and pushed it down over your shoulder, his perfect teeth clamping down on your soft skin. His mouth found the curve of your tit, pulling the lacy fabric of your bralette down to expose your hardened nipple to him. With one hand on your waist, and his mouth latched around your nipple, Matt groaned into your skin. Your head rolled back at the sensation of his warm tongue on you, your whole body felt like it was on fire as his touch became feverish.

"Matt, please, please, I need it, I need you" you whined, you weren't sure what you were begging for but the pleads spilled from your mouth almost on instinct.

Matt removed his mouth from you and tugged at your shirt, you shifted slightly to assist him as he threw it across the room. He palmed the flesh of your half exposed tits, growing frustrated at the sight of the baby blue lace of your bralette that kept him from seeing you completely. With one swift rip, he tore the flimsy fabric open at the seams, leaving it in scraps on his mattress. The vision of your heaving chest incited something animalistic in him and he instantly dove down, latching his mouth around you once more.

The moan that left your throat was guttural, your back arching off the bed as his hand slipped down between the two of you, skipping the teasing and heading straight for your throbbing clit. The tip of his middle finger found your nub instantly and without hesitation, he set an agonising pace, rubbing blissful circles over it as his tongue continued to work your nipple. He moved his hand down, swiping his ring and middle through your sopping wet folds. Your toes curled at the feeling and with that, Matt inserted his long fingers into your tight hole.

The feeling of you clenching around his fingers made his stomach tense, a deep, hungry moan leaving his mouth and vibrating around your tit. Your thighs clenched around his wrist, he brought his knee to yours and pushed your legs open with brute force, pinning you open for him as he made his way down your skin with wet and sloppy kisses. As he moved, he pulled down your pyjama bottoms and panties, the cold air peppering goosebumps all over your skin as he slowly exposed you to him.

You were completely bare, spread out on his bed. He got to his feet, knees resting on the edge of the bed as he gawked down at you, his chest heaving in anticipation at the sight of you like this for him, something he thought he'd never see again.

"are you sure y'wanna do this?" he said, removing his hands from you completely.

"Matt, you're the only thing I've ever been sure about in my entire life" you panted, sitting up, placing your hand on his chest and leaning up into him.

His fingers pressed against your core once more, attaching his lips to yours as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck.

"I've missed you, so fuckin' much" Matt confessed into the kiss, pushing you further up the bed as he crawled between your open legs.

Your hands came to the waistband of his joggers and pushed them down with desperation, moaning into the messy kiss as he thrust his slender fingers in and out of you at a tormenting pace. You wrapped your hand around his cock and he bucked into your touch, chasing the feeling of you pumping him. He broke the kiss with a breathy whine, head dropping to the crook of your neck as he assisted you in lining his throbbing length up with your sopping hole. He pulled his fingers from you and rubbed small circles over your clit, you pressed his leaking tip against your hole.

Matt moaned your name, the feeling of your wet pussy so close to being around him making his vision go blurry.

His hand came to your face, pressing bruises into your cheek as he shifted you both to lay on your sides, facing each other. He moved his hand down, lifting your leg and hooked it over his waist, pulling you into him with such force that a short squeal left your lips. You continued pumping him, rubbing his tip through your folds, when you brushed him back over your hole, Matt bucked his hips, the sting of him stretching you out for a brief second inciting throaty moans from the both of you.

Once he had a taste, he was lost in it, and Matt pushed himself inside of you again, this time allowing himself to bottom out in your gummy, soaked walls. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, your forehead pressing against his as he breathed desperate moans into your open mouth.

"Jesus christ you feel so fuckin' good" Matt whined, thrusting into you with one hand tucked between your face and his pillow, and the other on your thigh, the pressure of his touch sure to leave bruises behind.

He was bottoming out completely as your pussy milked him, clenching around his hard cock, and you felt as if you could cum from the sensation of his touches alone. Your whole body was tingling, every inch of your skin on fire with pure bliss as he fucked up into you at a steady pace.

"Matt, go faster, please" You whimpered, clawing at the back of his neck, tugging at the messy curls that gathered there.

He didn't need to be told twice, with a low growl, Matt set a rapid pace, fucking into you like it was the last thing he would ever do. Your moans were pornographic, the sting of his skin slapping against yours, coupled with the blissful stretch of your pussy around his cock sending you into a deep state of euphoria.

Matt grunted repeatedly, moaning your name over and over again as he fucked into you desperately. His moans made your ears ring, you brought a hand down in between you both and collected some of the juices that leaked from your pussy onto his cock, moving your fingers up to rub rapid circles across your puffy clit.

Matt grunted at the sight, his grip on your skin turning to blunt nailed scratches as he hardened his thrusts, pounding into you relentlessly as you worked your clit.

"keep doing that, angel, keep doing that for me, you feel so fucking good clenching around me like this, jesus christ, you're so fucking sexy when you touch yourself for me" he was rambling, completely consumed by the sight of you, the feeling of you milking his cock bringing him closer and closer to his release.

"fuck, Matt, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum" you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he fucked into you at a rapid pace. the sensation of his merciless grip on your skin coupled with the stimulation of your throbbing clit making you see stars.

"cum for me, angel, cum f'me, I'm right there with you, m'right there with you" his words were almost incoherent.

The sound of him telling you to cum was enough to send you tumbling down into ecstasy, and he was right behind you. The vice grip your clenching pussy had around his cock was incredible, and wet sounds of your cum releasing all over his length filled the air as his pace became sloppy, chasing his high as he stuttered inside of you.

"Fuck, Matt" you cried out, and the sound of you crying out his name sent him over the edge.

He released threads of ropy cum into your gaping hole, fucking his seed into you as his movements began to slow.

Your breathless pants filled the room as you both came down from your highs, foreheads pressed against each others, sharing oxygen as your leg remained wrapped around his waist. His hand caressed the side of your face, pushing your hair out the way to look at your pretty, fucked out face. 

When you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you and the feeling of his eyes baring into yours made your skin hot. 

“Hi” you smiled. 

“Hey” He cheesed back, rubbing small circles on your warm cheeks. 

After a brief moment of loving stares, reality set in, and you remembered the agonising events that led you to being here, tangled up with him like this. The dark circles around Matts eyes that mimicked your own broke your heart, and in that moment, you couldn't bare the thought of never being away from him ever again.

“I um—I’m really sorry, Matt.” Your smile dropped into a sincere, pleading expression. 

“You don’t have to apologise to me, y/n” Matt shook his head against the pillow. 

“No, I —“ you sat up, resting on your elbow to look down at him. His hand on your cheek didn’t falter and you pressed your head into his touch with closed eyes, “I do. I’m so fucking sorry, Matt. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I—I just freaked out because you called me baby and I —“ your rambling was cut off by his voice.

“Wait” he said, shifting to rest against his headboard, letting his hand drift down the soft skin of your arm, “all of this, was because I called you baby?” He asked through a short, baffled laugh. 

You nodded, some what embarrassed, sitting up completely in front of him, taking his large hand in yours and toying with the rings on his fingers. 

“But, I called you baby all the time” Matt chuckled, grasping your hand in his and gaining your attention back to his soft eyes. 

“I know, it just— it freaked me out because I think I realised in that moment that I was in love with you and, I just didn’t know how to handle that” you looked away from him again, the weight of your confession making your voice crack. 

Matts ears began to ring, “You’re in love with me?” He questioned, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. 

You locked eyes with him again, he looked so soft, his kind eyes almost sparkling with happiness at your words, “yeah, I'm in love you, Matt” you nodded, “I am, and I — I tried to ignore it, I tried to push it down and forget about it but, I couldn’t, I don’t know how to forget you” 

Matt didn’t say anything, he felt as though all the words in the English language were ripped from his brain as you told him you loved him for the second time. He simply starred at you in awe, your hand firm in his grip. 

“Can you say something, please” you said, your eyes flitting away from his for a second before returning to their prior position. 

“Y/n/n, I— I’ve been in love with you since we were ten years old” the words spilled from his mouth, a wave of utter relief washing over him at the feeling of finally admitting a fact he’s known for half his life. 

“You have?” Your expression was pleading as your eyes widened at his confession. 

“I’ve loved you more and more everyday I’ve known you, I just didn’t realise it until that night when— when we kissed” He said, sitting up and lingering inches away from your face. He brought his hand back up to your face, “You don’t know how to forget me?” He chuckled, “I couldn’t ever forget you, even if I tried, even if I wanted to” his lips brushing over yours softly as you breathed into his parted mouth. 

You didn’t respond with words, instead, you pressed your lips against his with such force that it sent him back down to his satin pillow.

You were terrified, and completely enamoured by him. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and he loved you just the same. And despite the fact that the idea of being loved, truly loved, scared you beyond belief, you no longer felt like you were drowning. Because you knew that no matter what happened, Matt would always be there to dive into the rocky waters and pull you to the surface.

taglist: @sturniozalt @shaquilles-0atmeal @blahbel668 @sleepysturniolo @le4hsblog @prissyhs @mattslolita

[valyrfia]

top 5 f1 ships 👀

tied 5. chalex

I am just......weirdly compelled by this one. I'm not sure what it is. F3 teammates lore maybe? Chalex chose me one day and it makes me pause and go "hm" sometimes. Very compelling, I enjoy it.

tied 5. gax

Complete crack ship that again I'm now weirdly compelled by. Fully believe Kimi Antonelli is the result of an awkward one night stand from this.

4. galex

Galex are a warm hug. They are just what you need when you're at your lowest. The narrative is sweet and compelling, with mastermind George Russell being down just a bit horrendous. The anecdotes about them from their teenage years are also just so....childhood best friend who you admire greatly. I love them.

3. landoscar

Look, McLaren worked a miracle here. I'm not a massive fan of Lando on his own, but Lando if he does PR with Oscar? I'm sold. This dynamic is just incredibly entertaining, the fic is INSANELY fun. You know if you approach any sort of landoscar content you're going to leave feeling bubbly and thinking "well that was a good time". They're my ditzy night out of ships. I love them so much

2. brocedes

They haunt my brain. They are my Roman Empire. I think the below screenshots sums up my feelings about them

lestappen

It could never be anyone else. The predestined and the inevitable. The soul tie they share and well, I run at least two blogs dedicated to them. They are once-in-a-generation talent born twice, with slightly too many coincidences for me to think it's anything other than destiny for them to fight for championships. We're privileged to get to watch their narrative unfold in real time, and I can't wait for the coming years.

[parmahamlarrie]

Happy July! I read some truly incredibly works this month, I hope you enjoy them as much as I have! x As always, please leave the authors love in the form of kudos and comments!

Coraçāo selvagem || @nooradeservedbetter || 50.1k Omegaverse, Shifter AU, Pack Dynamics, Feral Alpha, Courting, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence This was such a pleasure to beta! A truly plot focused story that will have you kept locked in from beginning to end!

My Hands at Risk, I Fold || @yourgorgeouscolors28 || 43.7k Established Relationship, Injury Recovery, Famous/Famous, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Fluff God, I just adored this. I think it checked all my boxes in what I want in a comfort fic! So lovely, a great read, and one that will stick with me for a long time.

a little, then suddenly || @holdingontochaos || 34k Friends to Lovers, Graysexual Harry, Roommates, Idiots in Love I truly am not sure I have words for this one. It is just wholly and entirely fantastic and deeply moving and so lovely.

On a starlit night || @lunarheslwt || 24.1k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Pack Dynamics, Shifter AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Courting Ceremony, Pack Luna Louis This was such a great mix of fluff and plot, thoroughly lovely all the way through!

Nest To You || @neondiamond || 14.9k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Getting Together, Nesting This was such a fun little dive into the life of a couple! I love the timestamp structure!

It's Not That I Don't Want You || @parmahamlarrie || 12.5k Established Relationship, Ace Harry, Character Study, Fashion Designer Harry

may your dreams be kind tonight || @tippitytap || 11k Strangers to Lovers, OCD, Insomnia, Anxiety This felt deeply personal (to me) and poignant and was so, so good.

Never Wanted Love, Just A Fancy Car || @loveislarryislove || 7.7k Boss/Employee, Strangers to Lovers, Office Sex, Misunderstandings

On That Note || @allwaswell16 || 6.2k Omegaverse, Office AU, Pen Pal AU, Humor, Co-Workers to Lovers This one is just so fun, a really good time! I'm sad I missed it before!

Quiet Afternoon Crush / Violent Overnight Rush || harrys || 4.9k Girl Direction, Friends with Benefits, Halloween, Unresolved Feelings

reckless serenade || thepolourryexpress || 4.4k Girl Direction, College AU, Valentine's Day, Established Relationship

Yesterday's gone (it'll be better than before) || @red-pandaaa || 3.5k Canon, Euro 2024, Exes to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort

Miles Away From Seeing You || @loveislarryislove || 1k Established Relationship, Long Distance Basically a SMAU on AO3, which I loved!

[here2bbtstrash]

real magic (explicit)

genre: smut, fluff, bangin’ your boss, m attempts kidfic - part of a hyung holiday collab !

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

word count: 16.7k 😩

contains: ~*~explicit sexual content (after kind of a slow burn sorry lol)~*~ the "moving back to your hometown" hallmark trope, a nick jonas poster (yes that's a warning), some taekook slander in the beginning because i thought it was funny, namjoon is so buff and so dumb but so wise and so hot, moni is a little shit, namjoon is a dad!, namjoon's kid uses they/them pronouns but it's not like A Focus of the story it's just flavor, reader thinks joon has a dead wife for like one second 💀 mentions of teenage pregnancy and co-parenting, one incredibly stupid asshole customer lmao, mint choco slander (it's what namjoon would want 😌), obviously there is an employee/boss power dynamic but they talk about it and figure it out because this is namjoon and he overthinks everything, namjoon driving (he's a dad i have to assume he would get his license if he had a literal child!!!!!!!!) and a lotta sentimental holiday and life talk. here are ur sex specific warnings: making out/going to second base in a car in a parking lot (what is it with my namjoons and cars in parking lots yo), fingering, semi-drunk sex, and fuckin' rawwwww with a smidge of size and breeding kink lmao (but she's on the pill!!! no more kids!!!!!!)

A/N: hello hello hi merry crisis this damn fic is finally here lmao~ as i have been babbling on about for days i really really (REALLY) love how this namjoon turned out he's just hesjkrgdhtgk such a fucking himbo but a good dad and wise and did i mention hot aaaaaa 🫠 all the love in my gay little heart to @goodsoop for their barista wisdom and real life experiences that went into this one (the cookie story will never not make me laugh) ! and to @sailoryooons for beta reading this 50 million times and encouraging me when i was convinced it sucked ass, and also for making all the gorgeous banners for this collab 😭

which btw - be sure to go check out @gimmethatagustd & @sailoryooons & @nabiolive 's fics tooooo !!! i've loved collabing with them so very much even when we were all hashtag Going Through It, we got the whole damn hyung line you hear meeeeee 🎁🎁🎁🎁

read on AO3!

Rudely awoken by the incessant beep of your alarm, you open your eyes to find Nick Jonas staring back at you, and you sit up with a scream.

Realization washes over your sleep-addled brain in waves: first, that you aren’t actually staring at a real person. He’s just smizing on a hot pink poster, held up by some remarkably durable masking tape you stuck to the wall fifteen years ago. Second, it comes back to you that you are staring at said poster because you’ve woken up in your childhood bedroom. It’s been left untouched since you were a teenager, like a weird time capsule of all your high school obsessions.

After reaching for your phone to silence the alarm, you kick your way out from under the blankets, trying not to make eye contact with Nick, or Justin, or Zayn as you stumble to the bathroom. The circumstances of your grand return to living in your goddamn parents’ house linger like a bad taste in your mouth, one that all the tongue brushing in the world can’t remove.

It still doesn’t feel real. Taehyung, your best friend in the world since freshman year of college, kicked you out. Sure, it may have been phrased more like a gentle request, but as far as your ego is concerned, it still feels like exile. Banishment, even. The person you thought you could never be parted from made his choice, and he chose his fucking boyfriend over you.

Jungkook. You think the name with all the venom your cold, dead heart can manage as you spit toothpaste into the sink.

Jungkook, the weird, bug-eyed kid who put his toe-socked feet on your couch, drank his banana milk out of your favorite mug, and ate up all of your Samyang ramyeon because he ‘thought it was communal’. 

Jungkook, who ruined your sleep schedule nightly, either by fucking Taehyung senseless on the other side of your paper-thin apartment wall, or by blasting the same four Ariana Grande songs over and over on his bluetooth speaker and singing along in an annoyingly good voice. Either activity would go on well into the early hours of the morning, until you had to bang on the wall so hard you nearly put your fist through it.

Jungkook, whose dog once took a shit right on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

Bam was cute enough to forgive, of course. But you can never forgive Taehyung for his betrayal. Especially when he knew you’d just been fired from your shitty coffee shop job for the stupidest reason ever, and he didn’t let that derail or even delay him. He still went ahead and delivered the killing blow.

Et tu, Taehyung? you think angrily to yourself as you stand in front of the suitcase containing as much of your closet as you could possibly fit. You still need to go back for your bigger furniture, and little things like your plates and your mugs and your silverware, which Jungkook is probably putting his grimy little fingers all over at this very moment. But until you’ve checked out of your indefinite vacation at the Nightmare Parental Hotel, there doesn’t really seem a point.

If you were less upset, you might take consolation in the fact that your parents aren’t actually here, that they’ve jaunted off to their timeshare until the new year, but you’re busy being too swallowed whole by your misery to find an ounce of joy in any piece of your current reality.

You dig through the pile of clothes until you manage to pull out something halfway decent. The first order of business now that you’ve moved back in is simple: acquire another stupid coffee shop job. You have no plans to stick around long, you just need something seasonal that will give you some meager income while you start looking for a real gig, one that is ideally not in your hometown.

Watching yourself in the mirror as you pull on a simple black blouse and your least-stained pair of jeans, you attempt to mentally dust off your interview skills. You conjure up your best fake smile and customer service voice, both of which are second-nature at this point.

Why do you want this job? “I’m just so passionate about coming home sticky and verbally abused by caffeine-addicted assholes every night.”

What’s your biggest weakness? “Clearly it’s the fact that I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.”

Why were you terminated from your last job? “Oh, well, I attempted to get my previous employer to improve their standards of worker treatment. You see, I selfishly requested that they raise the bar a single notch above hell. Certainly won’t happen again!”

This should go well, you tell yourself, and your reflection grimaces back.

With several hours to kill before your job interview and a growing desire to avoid the weird nostalgia of your childhood that seems to lurk in every corner of your parents’ house, you decide to take a walk.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, and though the air is brisk, it isn’t terribly windy. You tuck in your earbuds as you shut the front door behind you and pick a direction, aimless, letting your mind wander to the soundtrack of your “seasonal depression” playlist.

A whole new crop of families must have moved into your parents’ neighborhood in the years since you moved out, because the streets are more alive with kids than you can ever remember them being, even when you were a kid yourself. Bikes and scooters lay abandoned on the sidewalks between homes, and you can hear the repeated echo of a basketball dribbling on a driveway, punctuated by distant, playful screaming.

Even in the daytime, you can tell these families have spared no expense when it comes to Christmas decor: some homes have every eave outlined in string lights, some have candy cane stakes dug into the perimeter of their perfectly manicured lawns, and some have been seemingly invaded by small armies of inflatable reindeer and snowmen. You can’t help but giggle a little at the inflatable decorations that have been set to turn off during the day, the way the airless material lays limp in the grass, giving the impression of a yard strewn with dead bodies.

But you remember what it looked like when you drove in last night, everything lit up and brought to life.

Your parents definitely didn’t have inflatable lawn decorations when you were a kid, but you’d get so excited every year when your dad would drag the ladder out and spend the day stringing up the simple rainbow lights you did have. You still remember the little spark of joy you’d feel in your chest when the colors would click on after dark, the way you would run outside every night just to see them twinkle, your breath puffing steam clouds in the air, your bare feet freezing on the ice-cold driveway.

It felt like magic then. But somewhere along the way you grew up. And now that feeling’s gone. Even at night, the lights just look like… lights.

Distracted as you are by the music in your ears and thoughts of your childhood that have brought you to a standstill on the sidewalk, you don’t notice what’s happening until it’s too late. 

A blur of red and white is suddenly circling around and between your legs, and you feel something twining over your ankles, then tugging with a force that threatens to knock you off balance. As you lean forward in an attempt to right yourself, the chaos in question slows enough for you to realize it’s a fluffy white dog in a red sweater, who has excitedly tangled you up in his leash.

You manage to find the looped end of the leash and slowly get yourself unwrapped while the dog continues to pant and jump and occasionally yap at you. With your legs freed, you squat down for a proper greeting, laughing to yourself as he lifts up on his hind legs, balancing his paws on your knee to lick an enthusiastic greeting across your cheek.

“Hi, puppy,” you murmur, trying to get him to hold still long enough to read the name on his tag. A voice beats you to it.

“Moni!”

When you glance up to find Moni’s owner jogging up the sidewalk, you have to make a conscious effort to keep your own tongue in your mouth, because good lord, he is fine.

He’s tall, towering over you even once you bring yourself back up to standing, and the black workout tank and athletic shorts he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to hide the thick, well-defined muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs.

Despite his lack of clothing in the cool winter air, you can see his face and neck are slick with sweat, his white-blonde hair damp with it too. There’s even a dark patch that’s soaked his shirt at his sternum, making the firm swell of his pecs that much more apparent. It takes you an extra second to break eye contact with them, but when you do finally manage to drag your gaze up to meet his, you realize his face is just as nice of a view: honey-tan skin, full lips, and cute dimples that pop as he gives a sheepish, appreciative laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathless; his voice is deep and slightly husky in a way that makes your face grow hot. You blink stupidly at him for a few moments, your mind reeling, and then it occurs to you that you still have his dog’s leash in your hand.

“No problem,” you manage, handing the looped end back over and double-checking to make sure your ankles are still free from their entanglement. Though now that this man is holding the leash, you kind of wish they weren’t.

“Moni’s usually good about not taking off when I stop to do a circuit,” he explains, like you’re the dog owner police. It makes you wonder what kind of Karens must have moved into this neighborhood since you left it. “I don’t know why he ran, maybe he saw a squirrel or something.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile, admiring Moni as he stretches and settles into a polite seated pose. “I like his sweater.”

“Thanks,” he laughs again. “C’mon Mon.”

You can’t help focusing on how big this guy’s hands are as he slips his fingers through the end of Moni’s leash, tugging slightly as if to encourage the dog back in the direction he came from.

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

“You little shit,” his owner huffs under his breath, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. You distantly realize you should probably leave them to it and continue on your walk, but this is too entertaining to turn away from now. Your hot neighbor tries one more futile attempt to get Moni to move, then seems to give up entirely.

He stoops down with a low grunt of effort that makes your core flutter as he grabs the fluffy dog and hoists him up in his arms. You try to force yourself to stop noticing the way his biceps flex, the fact that the muscles of his arms are nearly bigger than your head.

“Thanks again,” he says with a final grateful smile, and your only response is to swallow hard and stand there like an idiot as he turns and carries his spoiled dog back home.

When you arrive for your interview, you’re delighted to discover that Indigo Coffee is nothing like your last job. It’s warm and bright, with large picture windows that flood the space in sunlight, and there’s a cozy personal touch to it, the likes of which you’d certainly never see in your former corporate shell of a workplace. The sitting area is dotted with live edge wood tables and mismatched chairs. There are an array of framed paintings on the walls that look handmade in a good way, simple yet bold brush-stroke lines in a deep blue color scheme. And, you realize as your eyes linger, the shop is absolutely overflowing with plants: in simple clay pots lined up along the windows, free-standing between tables, and tucked into bookshelves placed artfully throughout the space. 

You step closer to inspect one as you wait on your interviewer and are pleased to see that it’s real, that they all are— no waxy fake leaves jammed into a thick block of cement, but real greenery sprouted in real dirt, deep brown soil gone soft from what must have been a recent watering. These are plants someone cares for, coaxed and kept alive by someone’s time and patience and love. The thought makes you smile a little despite yourself.

There’s still fucking Christmas music playing, but you figure that’s inescapable this time of year.

“Are you here for the interview?” someone asks over your shoulder. As you turn away from the plant, you wonder if you’re imagining that the voice in question sounds slightly familiar, and then you find yourself once again staring up at a fine-ass man with white-blonde hair and a sweet pair of dimples.

He’s clearly showered since your last encounter, and is now slightly more covered up in a pair of faded jeans and a gray-green flannel thrown over a black shirt emblazoned with bold white lettering: Protect Trans Kids.

“Oh.” Moni’s owner blinks back at you, and the shock on his face is so apparent that a giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Uh, hi again.”

“Hi,” you echo, equally flustered, before realizing you failed to answer his initial question. “Oh, yeah. Yes. I am. The interview. I’m— that’s me.” So well-spoken, you mentally kick yourself.

One dimple deepens slightly as he extends a hand. “Kim Namjoon. Owner of Indigo Coffee. And the world’s least obedient dog, as you saw earlier.”

You offer your best handshake in return and a smile that you surprisingly don’t have to force as you give Namjoon your name. He gestures to a table in the corner, and you each pull back a chair to have a seat. You try to banish any potential horny thoughts from your brain, but shifting into interview mode proves difficult as he rests his large hands on the table in front of him, drumming idly along to the horribly cheery music.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Namjoon’s fingers when he speaks again. “If it’s cool with you, we can just chat a little? I’m not so good at conducting formal interviews. Too inauthentic.”

It’s like you can feel some of the tension release from your shoulders. “I— yeah. That sounds great.”

“Cool,” he nods, and you try to ignore the rush of heat up your neck at the intensity of his stare. Professional, be professional. “So I saw on your resume that it looks like your last few jobs were out of town. Did you just move here?”

“Moved back,” you say quickly. “Yeah. I grew up here, actually.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen a little in clear interest. “Really? What brings you back?”

You purse your lips as you consider how to phrase it. “My life… kind of fell apart. So. I moved in with my parents for a bit. Like a winner.” His dimples pop when he smiles at your joke, and you drop your gaze to the table. “Just trying to figure out what’s next, and find something seasonal in the meantime.”

“Well, we could certainly use the help,” Namjoon admits. When you chance a glance up, there’s a look on his face like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I saw in your application that you were terminated from your last position.” He leans in, lowering his voice slightly as he continues. “I’m gonna be honest, I hate that we even ask that question. But can you tell me a bit about what happened?”

You keep your stare fixed on the wood grain in front of you as you try to stay calm. “Well, if I can be honest too...” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tell yourself to just say it. “I was fired for trying to unionize.”

“Oh.” Namjoon sounds surprised, but you can’t manage to look at him. “Really?” You nod slowly, biting down on your bottom lip. “That’s— fucking illegal.”

That makes your gaze snap back up to meet his. His brow is furrowed slightly, a muscle in his jaw pulled tight.

“Yeah,” you say belatedly. “Yeah, I know. They made up a bunch of fake excuses as to why I was fired, but I knew what it really was. It was because I wanted them to actually pay us what we were worth, and hire more workers so we weren’t being scheduled to death. And I was getting everyone else riled up too, and I guess it scared them.”

Namjoon sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Huh. Man. Well, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

It takes you a second to process what you’re hearing. Union has always been a scary word for any person in upper management you’ve previously encountered. You hadn’t expected this to be so… easy. For him to understand, or sympathize. “I— yeah. I am too.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Namjoon continues quickly, “I think it’s great, what you tried to do. I’m very pro-union.” He pauses for a moment, his face twisting slightly in thought. “I mean, admittedly, we don’t have one here. Granted, there are only five of us. I should probably ask, though, if they want one.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “I’m gonna take a guess that you probably treat your employees pretty well as-is.”

“I try,” he says with a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours again. “So, here’s the deal. You have a ton of experience, and with holiday time off and a few people out sick, I’m super understaffed right now. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders, and hopefully you feel like you can come to me if you have any issues, without fearing retaliation.”

You blink slowly, and he must be able to read the disbelief on your face. “What I’m saying is I’m offering you the seasonal position,” he clarifies. “Is that— do you, uh, accept?”

“Yes.” The word is chased by a dazed laugh, and Namjoon’s dimples resurface around a small smile.

“Cool. I told you I’m bad at interviews,” he huffs, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. You try to ignore the swell of his bicep, clearly visible even beneath his bulky flannel. “I know this is a lot to ask, but. Is there any chance you can start, like, right now? Because Jimin’s shift ends in…” He tilts a little, fishing his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, and his mouth drops open in surprise when he gets a glimpse at the time.

“Oh, shit,” Namjoon murmurs, and then he raises his voice to call across the mostly empty store. “Jimin-ah! I’m so sorry!”

You turn around, your gaze landing on the barista leaned up against the counter next to the register. His dyed-gray hair dusts over his eyes, which pull into crescent moons as he laughs. “It’s cool. I knew you were almost done. But I’m gonna clock out now, if she’s good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning back to Namjoon. “Yeah, I can start now.”

The two of you move behind the counter, and you sweep your hair up out of your face while Namjoon starts to go through a basic run-down of where everything is located. The overhead bell tinkles as Jimin shoulders the front door open, and he lifts a hand over his head in parting.

“See you after the holidays!”

“Alright,” Namjoon says as he waves to Jimin, a little breathless from having rambled on for the better part of several minutes. “That was a lot. Do you want to just start on register? I feel like that should be easy enough, and I can train you on everything as people come in, since it’s pretty dead right now.”

You shrug. “Works for me.”

Within half an hour, there’s a line out the door, and Namjoon has managed to spill espresso grounds all over his shoes for a second time.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, taking a step back. “Sorry. Been a minute since I’ve had to be back here.”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you can see from the faces of the customers who have been waiting on their drinks for several minutes— including one who’s had hers remade three times, all of them incorrect— that it is very much not okay. You certainly lack the people skills to smooth over any of Namjoon’s mistakes, and you can feel a stress-induced eye twitch starting to flare up, brought on by Kelly Clarkson’s incessant yuletide belting.

You give your boss five more minutes, wherein he scalds his hand on the milk steamer, forgets about a cookie in the warmer until it’s burnt entirely black, and nearly turns the blender on with the lid off, before you finally intervene.

“Hey, Namjoon?” You do your best to keep your expression pleasant when he glances over at you, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should switch?”

“A-are you sure?” he stammers, apparently torn between wanting to be a good boss and a clear desire to just take the L. “I feel bad, this is literally your first shift.”

“I think I can handle it,” you reassure him, lowering your voice a little. “Let me take care of the drinks, and you can do your… endearing golden retriever thing. Keep the people entertained.”

Color blooms in the apples of his cheeks as his dimples make a brief appearance. “Oh, okay. Can do. Just let me know if you need help.”

You can’t imagine a universe where his clumsiness could in any way be considered helpful, but you keep that thought to yourself as you smile at him. At least he’s cute.

Things improve dramatically once your roles are reversed: as you expected, Namjoon is far more charismatic than he is coordinated, and he chats endlessly with the people waiting on their drinks, hardly pausing long enough to take a breath, while you scramble around trying to get your bearings in a new environment. The steady stream of customers doesn’t let up for the rest of the evening, until the last few finally trickle out of the store a few minutes after close, and you waste no time locking the door behind them with a sigh of relief.

You spin around, letting your back thud against the door for a moment as you watch Namjoon fight with a broom and dustpan in a futile attempt to get espresso dust out of the grout between the tiles. There’s a dull ache starting to thud in your skull, and it’s only deepened by the shrill opening notes of another fucking a cappella song.

“Namjoon?” you ask as you cross toward the counter, and his head instantly snaps up. “Do you think we could maybe turn off the Christmas music?”

“Oh, sure.” He’s already fumbling to grab his phone, and he taps a few buttons until the music suddenly switches, a soft voice starting to croon over an old school beat.

“Thanks,” you say, and you can’t help the pity smile that pulls up your mouth when he returns to his useless task. “I think the grout might be a lost cause, but I can go ahead and mop whenever you’re ready.”

He rights himself with a defeated sigh, nodding his head to the storage closet in the back. You follow his lead to retrieve the mop, then set about filling up the bucket with water and cleaning solution. Namjoon’s voice floats in from the front of the shop as he busies himself with his own closing tasks.

“Imagine smokin’ weed in the street without cops harassin’ / Imagine goin’ to court with no trial / Lifestyle cruisin’ blue Bahama waters / No welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters...”

You’re laughing a little as you roll the bucket out, starting at the door to work your way back. “Is this… Nas?”

He glances up, like he’s just remembered other people exist in the world. “Yeah, sorry. I can turn it off.”

“No, no,” you say quickly when he starts to reach for his phone again. “This is good. Much better than Pentatonix. I’m just… you really know every word.”

Namjoon shrugs, clearly embarrassed. “He’s my favorite.”

The revelation surprises you, and you pause to think as you pull the mop back and forth over the tile floor. It didn’t even occur to you that Namjoon would have a favorite kind of music, apart from the soft elevator muzak you imagine must play on a steady loop in his brain, given the way he fumbles through life.

“I actually wanted to be a rapper,” his voice comes back, and you look up again, your interest piqued. “When I was younger. But you know. Life had other plans.”

“Ah yes, the rapper to coffee shop owner pipeline,” you muse, and he barks a laugh that you wish you didn’t find so hot. Shaking your head, you force yourself to look back down at the espresso-studded tile, doing your best to shove your attraction aside and not think about it. He’s your boss, dumbass.

Still, it’s hard to ignore, particularly as he continues to rap along to each song that comes on, his voice deeper and huskier than you’ve heard it thus far in casual conversation. He doesn’t miss a word, and you can’t deny that it’s impressive. And sexy. Fuck.

Once the floor has been successfully mopped and everything else is put back together, you hop up onto the counter to wait for the tile to dry, and your gaze lingers over Namjoon’s large hands as he cashes out the register. He flips through the bills in time to the music, still humming under his breath as he goes, and you do your best to hold in your laugh when he inevitably loses count and has to start over from the beginning. Thankfully the second attempt sticks, and he smiles proudly to himself as he zips everything up into the deposit bag.

“First shift down,” he announces, as if you might have forgotten, and then his eyes find yours and you swear your breath gets stuck in your throat. “How do you feel?”

It only occurs to you now how close he’s standing to you, and with the way your legs are casually dangling over the edge of the counter, it wouldn’t take much for him to step between them. And god, he’s so damn tall, you’re practically eye-to-eye.

“Uh,” you manage, your mouth suddenly gone dry. “Good. I feel good.”

“That’s good,” he answers, his voice dipping into that throaty tone again. You find yourself wondering absentmindedly if maybe Namjoon has a customer service voice, too, and then for the briefest flash of a moment, his gaze flits from your eyes to your lips and back again. It’s so quick, you can’t be sure it even really happened.

You tell yourself it’s just your exhausted post-shift brain seeing things that aren’t there, wanting this fine-ass man to be into you, too.

A sudden bang on the front door makes you flinch so hard, you come dangerously close to kneeing Namjoon in the crotch. He takes a large step back as you whip around to look over your shoulder, only to see a kid’s face pressed to the glass, framed by two small hands. You’ve never been great at telling the age of children on sight, but this one looks like… maybe a middle schooler?

“Whose fucking kid is that?” you say automatically, blinking, dumbfounded. Namjoon’s laugh is a low rumble behind you.

“That would be mine.”

It takes several days for the shock to wear off. Your boss has a kid. Kim “could’ve burnt the building down with a single cookie” Namjoon is at least partially responsible for keeping another human being alive. Which means you have a crush… on a father.

A father who also happens to be your boss.

You try not to think about any of it.

There’d been brief introductions when you left the shop that first night, but all you’d really managed to glean was the kid’s name, Sol, and their pronouns. As someone who is historically terrible with children, you’d excused yourself the minute Namjoon locked the front door, after what felt like an eternity spent watching him pat each of his pockets twice before he finally managed to find his keys.

“I hope it wasn’t weird,” your boss says out of nowhere in the middle of your next shift, during a much-needed moment of peace after the morning rush. “For you to meet Sol like that. It’s just been hard, since their mom, uh…”

Namjoon trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You glance up, eyes widening as you put the pieces together.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “I’m so sorry.”

His gaze meets yours, and it’s like you can see the wheels in his head turning before he catches up. “No, no,” he says quickly, and then he starts to laugh. “Wow, I really did not start that sentence well. She’s not dead. She just got married, and she’s on her honeymoon for most of December. The logistics have been hard, is what I meant.”

An embarrassed heat creeps up your neck, and your elbows thud against the countertop as you press your face into your hands, attempting to muffle your own laughter. “In my defense,” you groan, “you really made it sound like you had a dead wife.”

“Not dead! She’s fine!” Namjoon’s dimples are as prominent as you’ve ever seen them when you peek up at him from your full-body cringe. “Very much alive, very much not my wife.” The muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his chest, leaning up against the counter next to the register. “Never was, actually.”

“Really?” you answer automatically, your damned curiosity getting the better of you.

He nods, his voice a little more serious when he continues, rambling on in the way that you’ve already started to suspect is his default setting, talking as if to fill empty space. “We were seventeen when we got pregnant. I knew we were young then, but I don’t think I really realized. Now that I’m almost thirty, I know: seventeen is fucking young.”

The line of his jaw tightens, thoughtful, as his gaze sweeps over the floor. “I thought I wanted to marry her, or at least felt obligated to. Like it was the right thing to do, but. We didn’t have any money, and then it all got so hectic after Sol was born. Didn’t even take a year for us to realize it wasn’t gonna work, not for us.”

You blink, trying to take in all the new information. “That sounds really hard.”

“It was,” Namjoon admits. “But we were both on the same page about it. That no matter what, Sol had to come first.” He glances up with a shrug. “It’s all good now. She’s a great co-parent, and her new husband is really good for her. And… well, I have Indigo.”

The tinkling of the bell at the front door snaps you out of a daze, makes you realize you’ve been staring at him, dumbfounded. You do your best to shoot Namjoon a soft smile, and to ignore the pang in your chest as he turns to greet the customer that’s just wandered in, already starting to babble on about the weather.

You find yourself more grateful for Namjoon’s presence with each passing shift, in a way that you try to convince yourself is thoroughly platonic. Between fairly steady work and his very steady chatter, your time spent in the warm, sunny space of Indigo turns out to be a good distraction from your own miserable excuse for a life. The repetitive motions of making drink after drink are oddly comforting, and you have to admit, Namjoon really is good with the customers.

“Peppermint mocha to go.”

You do your best to follow up the sentence with a polite smile as you set a drink down for the customer who has done nothing but scowl at you the whole time you were making it. The silent prayer you’ve sent out to the universe that he’ll take whatever personal problem he has elsewhere and leave you alone has clearly gone unanswered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, and you can feel your shoulders creep up towards your ears in anticipation of nothing good. Here we fucking go.

You blink twice, trying to keep your service persona engaged. “I’m sorry, is that not what you ordered?” It is, you know it is, you heard him say it.

“No, that’s mine,” the man quickly responds, reaching out to snatch the cup in a motion that makes you flinch. “But do you hear this fucking song?”

The honest answer is no: at this point the ever-present Christmas music might as well be white noise, so you have to make a conscious effort to tune back in and listen. It’s a few seconds, and then you pick up on the melody. “…Last Christmas?”

“Uh, yeah,” he continues, explaining like you’re stupid. “The original. Last Christmas by Wham!” When it’s clear you still aren’t putting the pieces together, he scoffs in pure frustration. “You just made me lose Whamageddon! I’ve won every year for the last five years, I can’t believe you would even put this on your fucking playlist!”

Your face pulls into an incredulous grimace before you can think to control it. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t make the—”

He cuts you off. “First off, I don’t need the fucking attitude. And surely you’re at least capable of checking what songs are on there, right? That’s not too advanced for you to handle?”

You didn’t even hear Namjoon walk up from the back office, but he’s suddenly stepping in front of you, and you’re more than glad to move back and let him handle this dude before you end up in jail. “Woah, woah, alright,” Namjoon interjects, his voice loud enough to carry. “What’s going on?”

The man beats you to it. “I’m trying to file a legitimate complaint and she’s rolling her fucking eyes and getting an attitude with me!”

“It’s the song,” you explain briefly, trying to keep everything about your expression neutral. “He’s mad that we’re… playing Wham.”

Namjoon’s face twists in an expression that you would find funny if you weren’t so fucking livid, one that you’re pretty sure is the mirror image of your own reaction minutes earlier. “The song? Seriously?”

You can see the guy scrambling, clearly starting to get embarrassed at his own dramatics. “Alright, I don’t have time for this. I guess I just need to take my business elsewhere, because this is ridiculous. What ever happened to the customer is always right?”

Namjoon goes silent for a minute, and you try to ignore the way the look on his face makes your pulse quicken, thudding brightly in the hollow of your neck. His voice is deadly serious when he speaks again. “I appreciate that you’re upset, but if you’re going to look my employee in the face, after she just performed a service for you, and disrespect her like that? Over a fucking song? Nah, I’m not gonna tolerate it. Maybe the next time you want someone to make you a toothpaste drink, you should take your ass to Starbucks.”

It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep the reaction off your face until the asshole has stormed out the front door, nasty drink in hand. As the bell finally tinkles to signal his departure, you collapse forward, just barely catching yourself on the counter so you don’t crumple straight down to the floor.

“Oh my god.” Your laugh of disbelief comes out more like a groan, at the ridiculous complaint and your boss’ insanely attractive comeback alike. “I fucking hate this time of year.”

“Hey.” The word is punctuated by Namjoon’s shoulder bumping into yours, and you look back up at him, still laughing a little at your own misery. His eyes search yours, sincere. “Assholes are assholes no matter what season it is. I’m sure that guy finds plenty of things to complain about the other eleven months of the year, too. Don’t let him ruin it for you.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, if only because you can do it freely now, without a man standing over you and yelling about your ‘bad attitude’. “I guess,” you huff. “And thank you.”

Namjoon shakes his head, like it’s nothing. “Chin up, okay?”

The two of you breeze through closing that night, familiar enough to fall into a steady routine now. You’re wiping everything down behind the counter and humming along to Tupac when Namjoon’s voice drags you back out of your thoughts in a way you’ve already grown accustomed to.

“You know…”

You glance up, only to realize that he’s started to flip chairs on top of tables to clear the floor, and is grabbing them two at a time, one in each hand. The image makes you a little dizzy, and you tell yourself to focus on his words, not his biceps.

“I think we make a pretty good team,” he concludes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, trying to keep your composure at the unexpected compliment. “I was thinking the same thing. And thanks again for, you know. Handling that guy.”

Namjoon shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Hey, you’re doing me a favor, taking this seasonal job. I’m not about to let anyone fuck with you.”

You bite down on a smile as you head towards the back to grab the mop, and then you hear a loud bang on the front door— it’s another sound you’ve gotten used to in your brief time at Indigo. There’s the click of the deadbolt, chased by the tinkling overhead bell and Namjoon’s chiding voice. “Homie, if you break my door I’m gonna make you get a job to pay me back for it.”

“You think I don’t know about child labor laws?” you hear Sol retort, clearly not intimidated, and the attitude in their voice has you biting back a laugh.

Wheeling the mop bucket out of the storage closet, you glance up to see Namjoon jut his chin toward the large front window, indicating Sol to take a seat on the ledge. “Feet off the floor, she’s tryna clean.”

Sol complies, plopping down in the window with their eyes glued to their phone as Namjoon disappears back toward the office to grab his things. You watch as Sol pulls their knees into their chest so their chunky black boots clear the tile, and you can’t help noticing that said boots are adorned with oversized silver bat-shaped buckles, reflecting the amber streetlight gleam that leaks through the window.

“I like your boots,” you say, more to yourself than Sol, half expecting them to be so engrossed in TikTok that they don’t even hear you.

But to your surprise, Sol looks up.

“Thanks,” they say, glancing at their feet. “I just got them. I’m in my post-hardcore era right now.”

The statement is delivered without a trace of irony, and you do your best to hold in another amused giggle as you respond. “Wow, you are… so much cooler than I was when I was your age.”

Sol seems to consider this for a moment, then shrugs. “I mean, you didn’t have the internet back then, right?”

The question hits you like a train, and you have to pause and press a hand over your heart at the impact. “Okay, ouch, I’m not that old.” They grimace apologetically, and you lean up against the mop handle in thought. “But the internet definitely wasn’t like it is now. The only social media that really existed was Myspace, and my parents wouldn’t let me make one. I mostly just used the internet to, like, play RuneScape.”

“Oh shit,” Sol remarks, sounding remarkably like Namjoon in the process. “You played old school?!”

It’s like you can feel your bones crumbling to dust inside your body, and you wince as you resume dragging the mop over the tile. “Hey, back then it was the only kind of RuneScape we had. But yes, you can consider me a… founding father of that game.”

“That’s cool!” they exclaim, sounding so genuine it makes your head spin. When did RuneScape become cool again? “My friends and I play old school all the time. It’s the best, for real.”

You shake your head in disbelief as you continue to mop, and a long pause settles between you, with Sol’s interest clearly returning to their phone.

Fuck, you think to yourself, what else do kids even talk about? Marvel movies? It’s like your mind has gone totally blank, unable to conjure up a single topic of conversation, and you practically huff out an audible sigh of relief when their voice breaks the silence again.

“I think my dad has been happier since you started working here.”

The mop nearly slips out of your hands entirely, and you glance up, eyes wide. “I— really?”

Sol nods, playing absentmindedly with the strings of their black hoodie, then bringing the end of one up to their mouth to gently chew on. “It’s a theory I have. A game theory. I plan to ask additional follow-up questions tonight.”

At this, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m sure your investigation will be very thorough.”

There’s a flash of a dimple in Sol’s cheek, like the mirror image of their dad. “I can tell you what he says, if you want.”

You wonder how telling your own smile is. “I mean… I can’t say I’m not curious.” You’re distantly aware of the sound of the office door closing, chased by Joon whistling to himself, and you lower your voice conspiratorially as you drop the mop back into the bucket. “I look forward to hearing what you find out.”

Monday morning, when you wake up to the omnipresent smize of Nick Jonas, you can’t help smiling back. 

You made it through your first week of work, and it wasn’t even that torturous. And best of all, Namjoon reminded you the night before that Indigo is closed on Mondays, which gives you an entire day to spend as you please. A real day off, which was truly unheard of at your last job, where you’d spend your non-scheduled days still anticipating an incoming emergency text asking you to cover a shift last-minute. More often than not, you’d end up working after all.

“But not today,” you announce to Nick.

A grand plan has already started to form in your head, one that involves a party size bag of Hot Cheetos and all eight episodes of The Fabulous, and yet. There’s a lingering urge at the back of your brain that you can’t quite ignore. With all the day-off energy you can muster, you drag yourself out of bed and tug on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, then shuffle into the bathroom to at least make yourself halfway decent.

You’re just going for a quick walk around the block to get some fresh air, you tell yourself. That’s all. Certainly no other reason.

It’s only a few minutes after you step out your front door that a fluffy white blur nearly collides with your shins, and when you stoop down to lift Moni into your arms, you once again can’t keep the smile off your face. Huh, who could’ve seen this coming?

But when you glance up, there’s no hot buff man jogging up the sidewalk after his dog. In fact, you realize as you look back at the ball of fluff in your arms, he isn’t wearing a leash or harness at all, just another cute sweater.

“Are you even supposed to be out here?” you ask Moni. His only answer is to drag his tongue up the side of your face.

You shift him a little in your arms so you can fumble for the tag attached to his collar, and thankfully, there’s an address listed. It takes you a second to get your bearings in the neighborhood, having not lived here for close to a decade, but it eventually comes back to you where the listed street is, and you start to walk. Moni is already blinking sleepily in your arms, clearly enjoying his preferred mode of transportation.

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as you approach the house in question— even if you hadn’t had Moni’s tag to guide you, finding his home would’ve been easy enough as soon as you passed this street, because you can hear old school hip-hop bumping through a speaker despite still being several houses down the block. You suppose Namjoon can get away with it during the day, when all the neighborhood kids are still in school.

As you make your way up the driveway, you realize the music is actually coming from behind the house, and when you follow the path that leads around back, you spot the culprit: a simple wooden-slat fence surrounds the yard, and the gate has been left wide open.

Before you can even make it over the threshold, a familiar voice reaches your ears, sounding much closer than the music. “Ah, shit.”

Namjoon comes barreling through the open gate so fast he practically runs you over, and Moni yaps, like he’s annoyed at being jostled as you quickly try to stumble out of his owner’s path.

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to take in how shock looks on Namjoon’s features without giggling a little. Today is certainly not that day. It’s just so endearing, the way his eyes widen and his mouth pulls into a perfect o-shape.

“Hi,” you breathe out around your laughter, trying to ignore the heat that flushes into your face when his dimples appear in return. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

With a wave of his hand and several profuse thank yous, you follow Namjoon back through the gate, and wait until he firmly shuts it behind you before letting Moni down to trot off across the yard. It’s only now that you take Namjoon in properly: he’s in a gray hoodie under a pair of denim overalls, both of which are splattered artfully with paint in a variety of colors.

“I was just in my studio,” he explains, tipping his head toward the small shed in the yard, which you quickly realize is also the source of the music that led you here. “Doin’ some art. Do you, uh… wanna see?”

“Yeah, okay,” you answer with a nod.

“Fair warning, I’m really bad at it,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads you in the open studio door, raising his voice to be heard over the music. He reaches for his phone, propped up in the windowsill, to turn the volume down a few notches.

There’s an easel up against the far wall holding what must be his current project, a half-finished scene that you realize upon closer inspection is thousands of tiny dots of color, painstakingly blotted onto the canvas to form a mountain landscape at a distance. A few more pieces that he’s already completed have been leaned up against another wall to dry, one featuring an abstract array of featherlight brushstrokes, and another where the paint’s been globbed on in thick layers.

Namjoon is talking a mile a minute as you inspect the canvases. “I thought maybe I’d do cyanotypes today, but it’s not sunny enough, and I’ve made that mistake before. I’m really into texture right now, so I’m trying out some different techniques with paint. I want to get better at pointillism, but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it would be. ‘Cause it’s just dots, right? But you have to be able to see the forest for the trees, too.”

“These are amazing,” you finally manage to murmur, and to your surprise, the compliment actually renders him silent. When you turn back over your shoulder to look at him, he’s glancing down, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks. But I just do it for fun. ‘Cause I love art.”

“I can tell,” you say, and when he looks up, you offer him a smile you hope reads as encouraging. “Did you make the art at work, too?”

He nods, still sheepish, and that answer also surprises you. You recall thinking on your first day that the paintings hung on the walls looked handmade, but it never crossed your mind that they might have been made by Namjoon’s hands. Maybe because you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing him drop and break things, you haven’t ever considered him as also capable of… creation.

And yet, here he is. Proving you wrong.

“Sorry,” Namjoon’s voice makes you refocus on him, and your brow furrows in confusion at the unexpected apology. “This is literally your one day away from me and here I am, taking up your time. Thanks again for bringing Moni back.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “Don’t have much going on today, honestly. I never really know what to do with myself when I’m not working. Which I’m aware is very sad.”

“Well, uh,” Namjoon starts, and when he takes a single step closer, you swear you feel something flutter in your stomach— or maybe lower. “Sol’s got a half-day today, since it’s the last day before break, so I’m picking them up in a bit. And we were gonna go on a hike, probably take Moni too. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

Your eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh. That sounds great. I mean, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up just so. “Nah. I actually think Sol really likes you. At least, they wouldn’t stop asking questions about you at dinner last night.”

“Is that right?” You do your best to keep your expression neutral.

Namjoon drives far enough north that there’s actually snow on the ground when you climb out of his front seat. You shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you follow him across the gravel parking lot towards the trailhead, a few paces behind Sol and Moni.

Sol shoots an expression of pure mischief at you over their shoulder, and then immediately starts to sprint up the marked path through the woods, Moni easily keeping up.

“Bye, nerds!” you hear them call before they disappear between the trees.

“Stay on the trail!” Namjoon shouts back, sounding as dad-like as you’ve ever heard him, and you can’t help but laugh. The two of you quicken your steps slightly to not fall too far behind, tracking the set of boot and paw-prints they’ve left to mark their trail.

For a moment, it’s silent between you, save the crunching of snow underfoot. It’s nice, being out in nature like this, time spent with Namjoon where you aren’t suffering through Christmas music and ungrateful customers. Where you can just… breathe. It makes you feel a little less sorry for yourself, a little less fixated on your own miserable life.

You glance over at him as that strange seasonal melancholy starts to settle into your bones again. “Are the holidays… better? With a kid?”

Namjoon makes a face, like he’s surprised by the question. “I mean, they’re definitely different. Then again, it’s been a long time since I did the holidays without a kid— not since I was a kid myself. What do you mean by better?”

Self-consciousness washes over you, your gaze drifting down to the path beneath your feet. “I don’t know, there’s just… I can’t shake this weird feeling now that I’m back home. This time of year used to be so exciting for me when I was Sol’s age. Everything felt special. Magical. But now I’m back here, and nothing’s really changed, except me. But I just keep feeling like the magic is gone. It’s… sad.”

He nods, taking a moment before he responds, and he’s chuckling softly to himself when he finally does. “You know, it’s kinda funny. When Sol was younger I actually felt a lot of stress this time of year. I couldn’t really enjoy it, because I was too busy trying to make sure that they had the best holiday I could possibly give them. That they didn’t feel like they were getting any less, since, you know. Their mom and I aren’t together. It’s funny that you bring up the magic, because I put a lot of pressure on myself to make that magic happen. But now that they’re a little older, I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” you prompt.

A dimple deepens as he hesitates. “It’s gonna sound corny. But really, I realized that the holidays aren’t about the gifts, or the decorations, or every little thing going perfect. You can make yourself sick over that shit, and I did, but kids don’t really care about it.” He pauses, and for a second you think that might be it, but then he keeps going, eyes fixed on the towering pine trees ahead of you.

“The year I opened Indigo, I had sank so much fucking money into it that I was broke. Broke broke. I couldn’t afford a single gift, a tree, not even a turkey. Sol and I sat on the floor of my shitty apartment and ate Chapagetti and watched Friends. And I felt like the biggest fucking failure imaginable. And then you know what happened?”

“What?”

“Sol turned to me, and they said, ‘This is the best Christmas ever, because we get to hang out, just the two of us.’” He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to ward off tears, and his voice comes back slightly less steady than before. “I still don’t know if they said that because they really meant it, or if they could just tell that I needed to hear it. But either way, I thought to myself: how fucking lucky am I, to have such a great kid? Like what did I ever do to deserve them? I still feel that way.”

Namjoon shrugs, as if to shake off the emotion. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not helpful to you, but. I just see it differently now. It’s not about the what, or the how. It’s about the who. Spending this time of year with the people you care about, and making sure they know you do. That’s the real magic.”

You realize the trail has carried you up the sloping hillside, and is now flattening out at the edge of a clearing, where you can see Moni chasing Sol through the snow, can hear their high-pitched laughter ringing out in the wide-open air.

When you turn back to Namjoon, he’s already looking at you.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel the magic right now. I didn’t either, for a long time. But it does come back, I believe that. It’ll come back for you, too.”

You blink up at him, overwhelmed by his willingness to be so honest, and by the wisdom of his words. “I— thank you,” you finally manage to say.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, just glances up to where Sol and Moni are still playing, and your gaze follows his out over the snow-covered field. Sol is dusting off a sizable stick, and they call out for Moni to fetch before launching it into a dramatic arc, high up in the air.

Moni watches it go, entirely disinterested, then settles onto his haunches in the snow with a yawn.

“You’re so bad at being a dog!” Sol shouts, and that’s enough to make you and Namjoon both dissolve into laughter. They look up at the sound, hands-on-hips, before yelling again, this time in your direction. “My dad said he has a crush on you!”

Your jaw drops open, and Namjoon’s eyes are wide as you’ve ever seen them when you look up at him.

“Damn, dude, you said you were gonna be chill about it!” he exclaims, and you press a hand to your mouth as a fresh wave of giggles overtakes you. Given how long Namjoon’s legs are, it only takes him a few strides to catch up to Sol. You stay a tentative distance behind him, but still close enough to be able to make out their conversation.

“Uncle Hobi says you need to be bolder with women,” Sol chides, matter-of-fact.

“Uncle Hobi says a lot of shit,” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“He painted my nails,” Sol raises their voice, clearly talking more to you than to their dad, and holds up a hand for you to see, waggling their fingers proudly.

“They look great,” you call out in response.

Namjoon turns back to you as you step in closer, then juts his chin to a bench at the other side of the clearing. “Sit with me for a sec?”

With a nod, you follow him over, and he wipes the metal surface free of snow with his sleeve before gesturing for you to have a seat. For a moment, the two of you sit silently and watch Sol, who is already busying themself with building a snowperson while Moni slow-blinks encouragingly from a distance.

Namjoon’s words chase a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna be real with you, despite the fact that my child just stole my thunder. I like you a lot.”

Your heart swells in your chest, threatening to burst. “I-I like you too,” you stammer back immediately. “Have definitely been harboring my own crush… basically since I started working at Indigo.”

When you turn to look at him, it surprises you a little that he isn’t smiling. You can see a muscle working in his jaw, like he’s nervous.

“That’s the thing,” he finally relents. “Work. I don’t— I hadn’t really planned to tell you how I was feeling, or act on it. Because I’m your boss, and that means, you know. There’s a power dynamic there. And it would be… unethical of me to blur the lines like that, by getting involved with my employee. I wanted you to come out with us today because it was a chance for you and I to be equals, outside of work, but it’s not like that dynamic just goes away, you know? And I feel a little guilty about it now. Because I really like being around you so much, but I just. We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Not while you’re working for me.”

You stare down at the snow under your boots as you take in his words, and you can’t help it. Try as you might to sit there and take his worries seriously, laughter flutters out of you before you can hold it in.

“What?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

“I really, really appreciate that you gave it so much thought,” you say, willing your voice to stay even. “I mean it.”

“It’s weighed really heavy on me, if I’m honest,” he says solemnly, and you glance over to see him staring into the middle distance, like he’s deep in contemplation.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to where his hand rests on the bench between you and covering it with your own.

“Namjoon?” you ask softly, and it seems to snap him out of his trance enough to look back at you.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” you preface. “But if I have to choose between you and my stupid seasonal coffee shop job?” The smile starts to flicker over your face again. “Then I quit. I quit right now.”

“Oh thank god,” Namjoon breathes, and you can only make a soft noise of surprise when all at once, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. You need a split second for the shock to wear off, and then you’re moving your mouth against his, one hand fisting tight in the fabric of his jacket. His lips are full and warm, and it feels like far too soon that he’s pulling back again, his cheeks flushed with color.

“Will you, uh—” he pauses, like he’s remembering how to form a sentence. “Will you still work tomorrow though? Jimin’s back after Christmas, but I really don’t think I can survive a shift on my own.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still a little breathless from his kiss. “Yeah, I think you’d burn the place down.”

Unable to deny the claim, he laughs brightly as you untangle from each other, then gets to his feet before offering a hand to help you up. “We should head out, it’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s true: across the wide clearing you can already see the sun threatening to sink back down between the trees, casting a golden-pink light that gleams off the snow and paints the world in warmth.

Sol leads the way back through the woods to the car, tugging Moni along by their leash, while you and Namjoon bring up the rear. You glance over at him a few times to catch him staring, and you scrape your teeth across your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile off your face, unable to stop yourself from mentally replaying the moment when he kissed you, over and over.

Just as you step under the shadow of a large tree, snow-covered branches stretching up toward the clear sky above you, Namjoon stops in the path. It’s so abrupt that you continue a few more paces before you even realize, and then you stop, too, glancing back towards him.

“Hey Sol,” Namjoon calls. “Think you and Moni can make it all the way back to the car in ten seconds?”

“I know what you’re doing,” comes Sol’s cheeky reply, but when Namjoon starts counting backwards from ten, you can hear the crunch of their boots taking off down the path.

“Eight, seven, six…” You watch as Namjoon cranes his neck until he deems Sol far enough out of sight, taking a step toward you as his counting trails off, and you find yourself pulled into him like a magnet. “Come here,” he murmurs, and then his hands are slipping up your waist and guiding you backwards until your back hits the trunk of the tree.

In true Namjoon fashion, he uses way more strength than is necessary for the task, and though your winter jacket cushions you from the impact, you’re smacked against the bark so hard that it knocks a dusting of snow off the branches above you, covering you both in flakes that stick to your hair and eyelashes. The sudden rush of cold makes you gasp into Namjoon’s mouth, but then he’s rolling his tongue over yours and you can’t think about anything else. A heavy pulse has started to thud between your legs at the heat of his breath in your mouth, the way his hips have you pinned to the tree, his body big enough to cover yours entirely.

“Joon,” you find the air to breathe as his lips trail hungrily down the slope of your neck. You rake a hand through his hair, white-blonde strands studded with snow, to try and pull his attention back, despite very much not wanting him to stop. “Joon, we should go. Before someone steals your kid.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs against your skin, and then his mouth is on yours again for one more kiss, like he can’t get enough. “Okay,” he finally grunts as he pulls away, sounding as begrudgingly responsible as you feel. Your head is still spinning; you want nothing more than to stay here and let him kiss you dizzy.

“Let’s go.”

He takes a step back so you can right yourself, reaching out to dust some snow off your jacket, and then the two of you resume walking up the path, sharing a breathless laugh like confidantes. You assume it’s just his standard clumsiness when Namjoon’s hand knocks into yours, but then his fingers are twining through yours purposefully, until you’re pressed palm to palm.

The rush of heat that blooms in your chest at his touch keeps you warm the rest of the way to the car.

Your last shift at Indigo somehow manages to feel exactly like every shift that’s come before it and completely new at the same time.

The work is the same, the steady stream of customers unchanged, the Christmas music still an aggravating soundtrack. But you no longer feel like you have to ignore the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when Namjoon asks you a question, or meets your gaze across the shop.

The only urges you have to suppress are indecent ones, made worse by Namjoon seemingly taking advantage of every opportunity to touch you: hip-checking you when you’re both standing at the front counter, pressing a hand to the small of your back whenever he has to squeeze behind you, leaning in a little closer than necessary to be heard over the noise of the milk steamer. It’s enough to make your breath hitch each time, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same relief at not having to hold back anymore.

Towards the end of the night, it surprises you when the typically consistent flow of customers starts to slow down, until it seems to have ceased entirely. You still have two hours to go, but you find yourself staring at the walls, every table empty, having done all the side work you can think of to distract yourself from boredom.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking shut makes you glance up, only to see Namjoon flipping the open sign over.

“What are you doing?” you ask, blinking dumbfounded, and he looks over his shoulder at you with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas Eve Eve, and I’m the owner, so. We’re closing early. Effective immediately.” The decree makes you laugh a little, and his dimples wink back. “Let’s finish cleaning, I wanna show you something.”

In record time, you find yourself standing outside the front door of Indigo as Namjoon locks up, only tonight your hands are kept warm by the hot chocolates he’d made for the two of you as you closed. He takes his cup back once his hands are free, and you try a tentative sip from yours, now cool enough to drink without burning your mouth. Given what you witnessed of his barista abilities on your first day, you brace yourself for the worst, but your eyes widen in pleasant surprise when the liquid hits your tongue.

“Being a dad means getting really good at a few specific things,” he says by way of explanation as he unlocks his car doors, and you smile as you slip into the passenger seat.

It occurs to you as Namjoon starts to drive that you don’t actually know where he’s taking you, but when you open your mouth to ask at the next red light, he leans over you to fumble open the glovebox and you lose your train of thought. He fishes inside for a few seconds before retrieving a CD case, then makes quick work of prying it open and sliding the disc into the slot on the dash. You attempt to hide your giggle behind the rim of your cup.

“No wonder you like ‘90s music so much. You’re still living there,” you say, nodding to his antiquated stereo, and he smirks as he turns up the volume. 

“This is A Tribe Called Quest,” he remarks, quirking an eyebrow when he looks back at you. “You better show some respect.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease in response, and you don’t miss the color that flushes his cheeks.

The light turns green and he accelerates through the intersection, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching across the center console to grip playfully at your leg, a few inches above your knee. You can see his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, like he’s considering saying something, but when he finally opens his mouth, it’s just to rap along to the music.

It’s only a few songs later that he’s turning off the main road and following a barely-lit gravel path up to a large grassy parking lot, where he pulls into a space and kills the engine. You squint through the windshield, tucking your now-empty drink into the cupholder, but you can’t make out much except dusk and some vague lights over a hill in the distance.

“Was this crush thing just a ploy to murder me?” you quip, and Namjoon looks a little nervous when you glance over, like he took the question to heart. “I’m kidding,” you clarify quickly.

His voice comes out surprisingly soft. “This is one of my favorite things to do during the holidays. Thought it might help with, you know. The magic.”

Something cracks open inside you as you look back at him. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Ah,” he says, as if to dismiss the compliment. “You haven’t seen it yet. Maybe you’ll hate it. Come on.”

The two of you climb out of his car to start your trek to whatever he has in store, heading in the direction of the lights, and Namjoon’s hand slips into yours, like it’s already second nature. Easy and sweet. You grip tight to him, the night air colder now than it was when you left work, but then you finally crest over the hill, and the temperature is suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

It takes you a moment to even understand what you’re looking at. The place is clearly some kind of arboretum, as the path ahead of you snakes through a perfectly manicured garden of various plants, but the only thing you can focus on are the lights. Every tree, bush, shrub, and other kind of greenery that lines the walkway has been intricately strung up with lights, each one boasting a different hue. The end result is nothing short of dazzling— a veritable rainbow of light and life and color, glittering diamond-bright against the deep-set night around you.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. “This is beautiful.”

There’s a dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth when you look up at him. “Thought you might like it.”

“I can’t believe I never knew this was here,” you remark, your eyes wide and blinking as you try to take it all in.

“Hey,” he answers with a shrug. “Maybe your hometown still has a few good surprises left in it.” You exhale a laugh as you lean into his side and he squeezes your joined hands; you can’t help feeling like you’ve already found the greatest surprise of them all.

After an hour spent wandering through the displays, each one more breathtaking than the last, Namjoon diverts you toward a small food stand. He comes away from the counter with a paper carton filled to the brim with long ropes of twisted, fried dough, warm enough to release steam into the air when you tear one apart to share, and dusted with cinnamon sugar that sticks to your fingertips.

The two of you take a few steps back down the path until you’re under an archway of glowing golden lights, then eventually come to a standstill, too hungry to do anything except devour your food.

Namjoon speaks first, mid-chew. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?” you answer as you reach for another piece.

He swallows, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth before he continues. “At your interview, you said your life fell apart. What happened?”

“Oh.” You smirk as you rip the braided dough in two, then in two again, before popping it into your mouth. “It seems a little silly now, but. I got fired from that last job, like I told you. And the same day, my roommate pretty much kicked me out of the apartment, because he wanted his boyfriend to move in. He was also my best friend, so. It stung a little. A lot. Moving back in with your parents at this age is humbling, to say the least. Feels a lot like starting over.”

Namjoon hums, like he understands. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Eh,” you respond noncommittally. “I should probably be happy for him. The timing just… wasn’t amazing.”

“You know,” he murmurs, thoughtful. “I thought my life was over when my ex and I got pregnant. Not even eighteen and about to be a dad. I really felt like… I don’t know, like that was it for me.” You nod slowly, unable to even fathom what that must’ve been like.

“But, here I am. Still alive.” Namjoon flashes you a grin, and you find yourself smiling back. “Still figuring it out. I actually feel like I’ve learned a lot from watching Sol grow up. They’re like—” He shakes his head, as if at a momentary loss for words. “They’re like a different person every month, I swear. What they’re into, how they dress. Who they wanna be. It makes me feel, I don’t know. Like it’s okay. Like I can change too.” He shrugs. “That’s the thing about life. It’s long. And even when you feel like it’s ended… it keeps going anyway.”

His words wash over you, and you’re so in awe that you can’t help but laugh.

“Ah, sorry.” He grimaces, suddenly self-conscious. “I know that was corny.”

“No, no,” you interject, trying to keep your composure. “I just think you are like, literally the wisest person I’ve ever met.”

The lights glimmering overhead aren’t enough to hide the way Namjoon blushes at the compliment, and then he pauses, as if recalling something. “Didn’t I nearly run the blender with the lid off on your first day?”

You double-over at the memory, and he’s laughing now, too. “Okay, okay. Fair point.” 

The thought keeps circling around in your brain as you dust cinnamon sugar from each other’s jackets and continue your way around the rest of the gardens, occasionally pausing to trade sticky-sweet kisses in the twinkling glow: you don’t want the night to end. You keep glancing over at Namjoon, wondering if he’s feeling the same way as he drives you back into town, the heat in his car on full blast, the CD player still underscoring your conversation.

“So, what do your Christmas plans look like?” he asks, eyes flitting briefly from the road to meet your gaze.

You fiddle with a button on your coat, wishing you had a less depressing answer. “I was just gonna spend it by myself. My parents already had a vacation in Hawaii planned, so I’m gonna do what I always do: hole up with booze and snacks and wait for it all to be over.”

He chuckles, tapping his fingertips absentmindedly against the steering wheel. “Well, I have about a hundred presents to wrap tomorrow night while Sol’s at their mom’s. Why don’t you come over and help? I can even provide the booze.” There’s a pause, and his voice comes back softer before you can respond. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up at his sincerity, the way he gently cares for you, has since day one. “Yeah, okay. I mean, you had me at free alcohol.”

Just like that, Namjoon is already turning back into the Indigo parking lot, where your car sits waiting for you. The two of you shrug off your seatbelts once he’s pulled into a space and parked, and he reaches to turn down the music before shifting in his seat to get a better look at you.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “You are officially no longer my employee.”

“And you are no longer my boss,” you answer back, and a thrill buzzes in your chest at the statement.

“Which means,” he continues, doing his best to lean over the center console, “I can do this.” He barely finishes getting the words out before his mouth is on yours, your eyes fluttering closed, his kisses far less chaste than the ones you shared earlier. They’re open-mouthed and urgent this time, with Namjoon slipping his tongue into the heat of your mouth like he’s been waiting all night for it.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur between kisses, and then he dips his head lower, until his lips find the join of your neck and shoulder.

“And this,” he purrs before kissing you just as hungrily there, tongue-first. You can’t hold back the soft noise his mouth pulls out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he sucks gently over the same spot, with just enough pressure to make you writhe in your seat. A shiver rolls up your spine when he hums against your skin, clearly pleased at your reaction.

“And, uh…” You slowly blink your eyes open when you feel the warmth of his breath dissipate, and he’s looking at you with his brow furrowed, as if attempting some difficult mental math. “Actually—” He reaches down for the lever to adjust his seat, and it drops all the way back with a graceless thud that makes a laugh flutter out of you. “Maybe you could take your jacket off and come over here?”

You don’t need him to ask you twice, and you’re moving quickly as you peel out of the thick material and scramble across the console to straddle him. You both groan a little when you duck down to press your mouth to his again, all of this suddenly feeling much more real now that you’re basically horizontal. His hands alight on your hips, tentative, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, and you smile against his lips.

“Touch me, Joon,” you instruct, and he does as he’s told.

His hands are warm as he slips them beneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your skin until he reaches the band of your bra. When you hum encouragingly into his mouth, he keeps going, pushing the fabric up your chest so your tits spill free from their confinement. He cups one in each hand, and though you might’ve expected him to be clumsy or rough, given everything you’ve seen of him thus far, you’re surprised to instead find that he’s gentle, thumbs circling your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to tighten them into stiff peaks.

Unable to bite back your whimper at the heat that blossoms through you at his touch, at how much more of him you need, you pull away just enough to break your kiss, glancing up through the back window of his car to confirm the parking lot is still empty.

Namjoon groans low in his throat when you reach down to tug up the hem of your shirt, shifting a little on top of him to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate, thumb still working at one nipple while he takes the other into his mouth, and your sigh of relief comes edged with a soft moan when he swirls his tongue over the bud of your breast.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Feels so fucking good.”

He pulls off with a wet pop to switch sides, and the slick heat of his mouth sends bolt after bolt of arousal through you until there’s a dull ache of need thudding between your legs. As you roll your hips in desperate search of friction, you can feel him beneath you, straining hard against the fabric of his jeans.

Namjoon pulls his mouth off your breast, letting out a hoarse laugh when you shift to drop your forehead against his collarbone with a groan, horny enough to practically be delirious. “I hate that I’m even saying this,” he rasps, “but I really can’t have sex in a car. I’m too—”

“Big?” you offer, and there’s a smile on his lips as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I was going to say old.”

You can’t help giggling as you lean up to find his mouth with yours again. Namjoon kisses you a little while longer, lazily, his hands still kneading gently at your tits, until he finally tips his head back, heaving a sigh up to the roof of his car. “Okay, okay. You should go.” His tone is reluctant, like it’s the last thing he wants. “It’s late. And my jeans fucking hurt.”

There’s a self-satisfied smirk toying at your mouth as you sit up, tugging your bra and shirt back into place and not missing the bulge in Namjoon’s pants where your hips meet his. “I will take the blame for that one.”

He folds his hands behind his head, biceps and dimples on full display. “Damn straight.”

You lean down for one more kiss, letting it linger before you make your way back over the center console to retrieve your jacket. “Have a good night, Joon,” you murmur as you reach for the door handle, and when you glance back, his eyes are fixed on you, still heavy-lidded with lust.

“Get home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I have booze, as promised.” Namjoon’s voice echoes in from the kitchen as you kick off your boots and hang your coat up at his front door come Christmas Eve. The aroma hits your nose as your socked feet pad down the hall to follow him: the spice of cinnamon and clove, paired with a hint of citrus. It smells like the holidays, like home.

“Mulled wine?” you wager a guess, and he nods, turning away from the stove to retrieve two mugs from a cabinet.

“I halved the recipe, since it’s just us,” he explains, mouth pulling down at the corners as he starts to ladle out servings from the pot full of deep red liquid. “Still made a lot, though.”

Your eyes drift across the kitchen until they land on the two empty bottles of red sitting next to the sink, and that makes you pause for a moment to consider. “So the original recipe called for four bottles?”

Namjoon’s brow is furrowed when he glances up, and then he follows your gaze, and a look of delayed understanding washes over him. “Oh, fuck.”

Your elbows dig into the kitchen island as you press your hands to your mouth, as if to physically hold in your laughter. “Did you… halve everything in the recipe except the wine?”

His eyes drop closed as he nods, his answer a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yes, I did.”

You can’t help yourself: all at once, you’re circling around to join Namjoon behind the stove, so you can take his face in your hands and pull his mouth down to yours. He makes a soft noise of surprise, but then his lips fall into rhythm, kissing you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Even through the fabric of your shirt, his large hands are warm when they slide over the small of your back, and then they keep going, until you finally break the kiss with another laugh when he reaches his final target and outright grabs your ass.

“Not the reaction I anticipated,” Namjoon admits, paired with a teasing squeeze. “But I’ll take it.”

You look up at him through your lashes, pressing your palms flat to the firm plane of his chest. “A very wise friend of mine once told me that the holidays aren’t about every little thing going perfect. I thought maybe you needed a reminder.”

His dimples deepen as his eyes search yours, and his voice is lower in his throat when he responds. “I think that fool was just sayin’ words because a pretty girl asked him a question.”

Heat flushes your face as you smile back. “Well, they were very good words.” You drop your gaze to the pot on the stove. “Come on, I bet we can salvage this.”

Determined to save Christmas, you throw in another handful of spices, chased with a few glugs from a bottle of orange juice Namjoon heroically digs out of the back of the fridge. After a few more minutes of simmering, you take a tentative sip of the mixture to find it perfectly adequate.

“I guess we just have to drink twice as much now,” Namjoon quips, filling up two fresh mugs with the remedied wine. You raise an eyebrow back at him, as if to accept the challenge, while you tap your drinks together in a cheers.

By the time you realize that a double-batch of mulled wine and gift-wrapping don’t exactly go together, it’s already too late. The booze makes Namjoon’s big hands go even clumsier, the few presents he attempts an absolute disaster, and you can’t stop laughing long enough to be of any help. At one point he reaches up to cup your jaw for a kiss, but completely misjudges the distance, deftly knocking into his half-drunk mug and spilling the contents all over a tube of wrapping paper and the crotch of your jeans.

You dissolve into giggles until you can scarcely breathe, scooting your chair a few inches back from the table as he jumps up to grab something to soak up the mess. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you manage to gasp when he returns, immediately focused on cleaning you up first. You wave him away as you get to your feet. “Seriously, it’s not that bad, it’s mostly the table.”

“Jesus,” Namjoon groans as he drops the kitchen towels in his hands onto the wooden surface, doing his best to soak up the puddle, though there’s no saving the ruined gift-wrap.

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur as he turns back, once again examining the extent of the damage done to your clothes. A shiver rolls through you as his thumb brushes over the waistband of your jeans, and he grimaces a little.

“This is probably gonna stain.”

“I mean…” Your pulse starts to quicken as his fingertips linger where they are, and Namjoon’s gaze flits up to meet yours when you speak, clearly hearing a shift in your tone of voice. “I could just… take them off.”

A smile teases at the corner of your mouth when his eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then seems to self-correct. “I mean, uh. If-if that’s something you would feel comfortable doing.”

You’re already reaching to undo the button, and then Namjoon takes over to tug open the zipper and push the fabric down your legs, and your nipples tighten beneath your bra at the reminder of how gentle his large hands can be. His lips find yours again and you don’t hesitate to lick into his mouth, jostling slightly as you try to make out with him and kick your pants the rest of the way off at the same time. It’s graceless, but you manage to make it work, and then he pulls away from you to glance back down.

“It looks like a little got on your shirt, too.”

He’s right, you realize: there are faint purple marks splattered just above the hem of your long-sleeve, and you smirk as you look up at him.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you did this on purpose,” you tease, and then in one swift move you pull your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the kitchen floor next to your discarded jeans.

Namjoon’s hands are instantly on your bare skin, trailing heat as they trace the curve from your hip to your waist, and your breath hitches as he ducks down to brush his lips over your collarbone. The low tone of his voice reverberates through you when he speaks against your skin. “I like to think I could’ve gotten you naked tonight even without being an accident-prone idiot.”

You run a hand along the line of his jaw, tipping his head up to seek a kiss, before leaning back to murmur, “I guess we’ll never know.”

He kisses you again, and the two of you stumble across the threshold into the living room, pausing along the way to peel off his sweater and then his jeans, laughing into each other’s mouths, just drunk enough to lack any semblance of coordination you might have otherwise had.

When you drop down to lay back on his sofa, you’re both stripped to your underwear, and you can feel the thick bulge of him, pressing firm-heavy heat into your thigh as he settles his hips between your spread legs.

Namjoon’s eyes roam over your body beneath him, and then he’s tugging the lace of your panties to the side to slip a finger into your drenched center, beckoning it up to rub you just right. Your mouth drops open as he traces slow circles against your front wall, and when he adds a second digit, you can’t help but whimper softly at the stretch. It thrums through you like your lingering red wine buzz, hot and thick and good enough to get lost in, your head dropping back on the couch cushions as your hips rock up into his touch.

“Goddamn,” Namjoon groans, and your eyes flutter open again to take him in, his gaze heavy-lidded as he watches his fingers disappear up into you, coaxing slick sounds out with each pump of his hand. “I had a whole plan,” he rasps. “To take my time. But, fuck, I really want to fuck you.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you breathe, not sure how much longer you could stand the torturous feeling of his clothed cock grinding into your thigh, so close to where you want him. An ache throbs in your cunt, needy, plugged up with two fingers but still begging for more. “Just fuck me.”

Realization flashes over his face, and then he suddenly heaves a sigh, looking defeated. You have to bite back a noise at the loss as he withdraws his fingers. “I— there’s an obvious joke here, but. I don’t have any condoms. Or if I do, they’re definitely expired.”

It takes you a second to process the revelation, and then you reach up to pull him down to you, smiling when he hums surprise into your mouth at the unexpected response. Your lips linger on his, and then you tip your head to press a kiss to the slope of his neck, not quite able to maintain eye contact as you murmur, “I mean. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. So.”

“Yeah?” he replies, and your nose bumps against his shoulder as you nod. “Me too. Well, I-I’m clean, I mean. I’m not on the pill.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as you look up at him. “Right, no, I get it.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon huffs a laugh in return, his face flushing a little. “I talk a lot, when I’m nervous.”

“I just thought it was an all-the-time thing,” you admit, and the color in his cheeks deepens.

“I’m just always nervous around you.”

Your mouth seeks his out for a kiss sweeter than the last, slower for his shy honesty and the hummingbird thrum of your heartbeat behind your ribs. The heat of his breath ghosts over your lips when you tip back to answer, “You don’t have to be.”

“So, you’re okay?” he asks, almost reverent with his question. “If we—if I don’t—”

“Please,” you insist, and it’s all the encouragement he needs.

With remarkably little fumbling, he drags the lace of your panties down your legs, letting you kick them the rest of the way off while he moves up to unclasp your bra. You slip the straps off your shoulders and drop it over the edge of the couch, then watch as he shifts to strip out of his boxers, freeing his cock with enough force that it smacks against his abdomen with a hefty thud.

You swallow hard as you take him in: long and thick, flushed dark. Big, and fuck, you want all of him; you can feel how drenched you already are between your legs at the thought of all that cock filling you up.

When you tear your gaze away to meet his, Namjoon is staring at you just as hungrily, and he brings a hand to pump himself a few times, to coat his shaft in the wetness that’s started to drool from the head of his dick.

“Come here,” he grunts, his voice rough-edged, and you waste no time straddling yourself over his hips.

Given his considerable size, you figured it might take you a second to adjust, but you want him so bad, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is all white-hot pleasure. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself down on him, inch by overwhelming inch, until your ass is flush with thighs.

Namjoon’s head drops back against the couch as you slowly grind your hips into him, his hands gripping at your waist to guide the movement. You can’t help the soft sound that flutters out of you: he just looks so good like this, white-blonde hair swept off his forehead, beads of sweat trailing down his temples and glistening at his collarbones, his parted lips full and kiss-bitten.

“Baby,” he groans as you start to move a little more intentionally. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long. Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me,” you breathe, and you close a hand over one of his, guiding him down to your clit. 

Just like the night before in his car, his touch is so gentle when he begins to trace circles into the sensitive nub with his thumb. You can feel the slow-hum build of an orgasm in your core, drawn up by the steady rub of his hand, and you lean back to allow him better access, bracing yourself on his thighs as you rock along his length.

A moan rips through you as the new angle drags the head of his dick just right against your front wall, and it’s good enough to make your eyes roll back. Chasing the feeling, you shove your hips down harder, driving his cock into that spot over and over until your thighs have started to tremble.

“That’s it,” Namjoon grunts encouragingly, his voice husky. “Use me, baby. Look so good when you bounce on my cock like that.”

The words set every last one of your nerve endings alight, and you dig your nails into his skin as your spine arches from the pleasure. His thumb is still working steadily at your clit, and the heavy stretch of his cock has you so wet, you can feel arousal starting to leak down your thighs. Your pussy clings to him like a vice, a throbbing-tight heat, taking him to the hilt every time.

“Oh my god, Joon,” you groan, “I’m gonna come.”

His touch doesn’t let up, and you can feel yourself teetering right on the precipice of it, only able to manage little gasps as you drop yourself down onto his cock again and again and again, with enough force that there’s an audible sound of your skin slapping against his.

Your legs are outright shaking from the effort now, from how close you are, and then Namjoon ducks his head, using his free hand to guide your tit into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue laved across the tight bud of your nipple is just what you need to push you over the edge.

With a moan that’s more like a sob, you drop forward against Namjoon’s chest, sinking all the way down to bury him in your pulsing cunt as you come. He continues to rub you through the waves of your orgasm, breathing ragged in your ear while your pussy gushes around him, until you grab his wrist with a soft whimper of overstimulation, and he relents.

Too gone to get any words out, all you can do is take his face in your hands and kiss him. He rolls his tongue over yours, decadent, as his palms slip down to cup your ass. You groan a little into his mouth when he begins to shift you, your cunt still fluttering-sensitive at every little motion, but he manages to maneuver you onto your back while still keeping himself sheathed in you.

His hands move to your thighs, encouraging your legs to hook over his hips, and his mouth trails kisses down the valley between your breasts before he breathes against your skin, “Can I keep going?”

“Please,” you murmur, and it’s chased with a moan when he starts to rock his hips into you. You feel so full, so swollen from your climax that it’s like your walls were molded to take him, the crown of his cock stroking deep-deep over the place that lights you up inside, shooting sparks of pleasure all the way down to your toes.

Namjoon’s breath stutters on a laugh. “Shit, I’m already close.”

You tilt up to brush your lips against his, humming encouragingly into his mouth, and then he pulls back again, one dimple teasing at the corner of his smile. “God, I— wanna hear you say it.”

Somehow, you know exactly what he means. “Come in me, Joon,” you beg, fucked so good that you’re shameless for it, and you gasp when he bottoms out in you with his next thrust. “Fill me up. Fuck me full of your cum, baby, please.”

It’s like the words send him into overdrive, and he practically growls as he starts to fuck his cock into you forcefully, hard enough to make your tits bounce. Each snap of his hips punches a heady groan from your lungs, and you reach up to drag your nails across the skin of his back as he chases his own end.

“Gonna fucking— give it to you,” he hisses, rolling his hips one, two, three more times, and then you feel his cock twitching, shoved in as deep as you can take him. He heaves a final strangled groan as he comes, rope after rope of his release pumping into you to paint your walls, until you can feel it beginning to spill back down your thighs.

You kiss through the comedown, inhaling shaky breaths into each other’s mouths, your bodies still fitted together like puzzle pieces, sweat starting to cool in the places where skin is pressed to skin. Namjoon finally moves first, giving a grunt of effort as he rolls off the couch, and you throw an arm over your face while the world slowly settles into focus around you.

When he returns, it’s with a towel in hand, and you can’t help smiling as he cleans you up, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone in tandem.

His voice is soft, too, when he finally speaks. “Will you stay here tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your forearms to look at him, and a little glimmer of something lights up in your chest that you can’t ignore. The first spark of an ember, just enough to reignite a flame you’d long since believed to be entirely extinguished. But now he’s shown you: it doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to be alone.

“Of course. We still have presents to wrap,” you say simply, and he huffs a laugh as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Joon?” you murmur into the crook of his neck, unable to keep your voice entirely steady.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For the magic.”

[thechestnuthead]

hi ! i've been an avid reader of the manga since... a really long time i'm sharing this primarily to indoctrinate friend @trailsofpaper but also rec lists are fun i focused on the romance dawn period but there can be spoilers for future nakama, i don't think there's major plot spoilers but i'm not 100% sure (you can message me if you want to know for sure) also there's lots of aus

Curbside by 8ball @8balldoodles (amazing writer AND artist) modern au • roadtrip au • 10.3k • general

i always have a good time reading 8ball's stories and this one is peak comfort, it's funny it's nostalgic it's so soft and cute, i love love love their version of the strawhats, they are bastards (most affectionate)

Back to You by 8ball modern au • childhood friends to adult lovers • 8.5k • teen and up

another one by 8ball, i could not choose, here it's what is said in the tags or zoro basically being in love with sanji since they were children but oh no ! sanji has to move what will they do and will they still see each other ??? this one is very sweet and i love their baby version as much as their adult ones

The Ten Steps of (Gradual) Escalation by Trixree @trixree gay chicken • size kink • 3.2k • wip • explicit

we are entering explicit territories and we have to do it with a trixree story because they're doing explicit one piece fic so well. this one is a wip with 4 chapters but even if it's never finished you have to read it, trixree is one of the funniest author i've read, they write all the strawhats incredibly, i always laugh reading it, the dialogues my god the dialogues

Icarus, down and out by Trixree modern au • getting together • 6.8k • explicit

another one by trixree, what do you want me to say, this one is very much found family too which is something i really love about one piece fics, here it's not-gay (he'll get there) sanji pining for zoro, it's so so fun and hot

who's gonna love me now ? by bisexualbluesargent @bisexualbluesargentt romance dawn • developing relationship • 3.2k • explicit

sweet story around their early days relationship, a very nice amount of sexual tension and bickering i'll just need to share one quote to convince you : "“Good night, virgin,” said a satisfied voice from above, like he had reached the goddess of comedy herself, shaken her hand."

turnabout (is fair play) by demonzoro @demonzoro (also an amazing artist) fighting as flirting • sexual tension • 2.6k • teen and up

zoro and sanji's usual banter OR IS IT... this one is making the temperature rise, the pacing is exhilarating, and i love demonzoro's attention to details and always so true to the characters dialogues

come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee fluff • denial • 4.7k • teen and up

very cute story, love a good oblivious sanji fic and a good strawhat camaraderie at his expense fic the thing that gets me also is that sanji and zoro are that easy about each other, you will get me this author also have a lots of good au fics

Prayers by witchspellbook @witch-spellbook sanji pov • religious imagery • 350 words • mature

i love this short story so so much, the imagery the structure the fast paced tone the fall !!! it's a specific dynamic for zoro/sanji fics that i love and here it's done in 350 words, the magic of witchspellbook's power

that's it ! hope you'll discover stories you'll love, my ask box is always open for rec and commentaries if you read these fics !

[merlinfromberlin]

Bumblebee & Ratchet Fic Recs

It's my birthday, so let me treat myself (and you) to some of my favourite fanfics exploring the dynamic between Ratchet & Bumblebee in TFP. Because I am a sucker for Ratchet and Bee and Ratchet having a soft spot for Bee.

Bumblebee & Ratchet Fics

Do You Like Bees? by @thinkingheron (Stardustjinn on AO3)

TFP. Ratchet needs a break from his Synth-En project, so Bumblebee takes it upon himself to make it happen. The Team is amused, Ratchet is not, and Bumblebee pays with a scratched paint and a dent. Oneshot. Warning we have an angry Ratchet.

I honestly love this story so much. It's incredibly creative and funny! :3 I love how cheeky and mischievous Bee is. I love how helpless everybody else is to stop his shenagigans. I love that, yeah, he's playing a prank and it's infuriating to Ratchet in the moment, but in the end it's not actually malicious. No one is hurt, it can be reverted easily and Ratchet recharges for a bit.

On another note: this fic is basically canon to me.

If Language Were Liquid by @equivocaleternity (equivocalEternity on AO3)

Bumblebee's voice box is malfunctioning again, and he joins Ratchet and Raf for a perfectly timed lesson on Cybertronian grammar.

This fic just hits all of my boxes: Ratchet, Bumblebee and an super interesting exploration of Cybertronian languages/linguistics/grammar. It's absolutely amazing! :3

Minus One by @gentle-hero-blog (carrot_top_monk on AO3)

A rewrite of the season 3 episode “Minus One”, in which the Autobots’ interrogation of Soundwave goes horribly wrong.

I almost wish that this was canon. It's such an interesting way to explore how Minus One could have gone differently. It's also a super interesting angle at a "Tyger Pax fic". I also honestly love the relationships between Ratchet, Optimus and Bumblebee in this fic so much.

And, maybe most impressively, it made me sympathetise with Smokescreen a little bit more than I did before. I still don't really vibe with him, but I feel like I understand him a little bit better now.

Spark of Courage also by @thinkingheron

TF:Prime, Aligned. Pre Earth. After a surprise Decepticon attack near the Well of AllSparks, Ratchet manages to save a sparkling from near death... or was it the other way around? Origin fic. Rated for mild violence.

Aaaahhh. I don't know how to even describe this fic but I honestly love it so, so much. Bee's immediate attachment to Ratchet is honestly so, so sweet. How Ratchet gets attached to Bee against his will. Bee's sparkling adventures are just absolutely amazing. He's got half the Autbot force exhausted with his shenanigans within the first three days without even trying to. And at the same time he's got all of them wrapped around his little finger. It's honestly one of the best portrayals of Bee I've ever read. I can only aspire to one day write such an adorable, fun and mischievous version of Bee. :3 Also: the background War politics/plot. And, Jazz is in it and he is absolutely glorious.

Honestly can't recommend this enough. <3

Dadchet Fics

Because, for some reason childhood trauma, grumpy old medic dad having a soft spot for his little yellow robot is my greatest weakness.

A glimpse in the Past by arctic_lotus on AO3

When they say you see your children before you die, it isn't always the good memories. ~ Ratchet seems to walk through the events leading to his deepest regret as a recon mission goes up in smoke.

Featuring lots of incredibly sweet vignettes of Bee's and Ratchet's relationship leading up to Tyger Pax. Sparkling Bee is absolutely adorable and Ratchet has a soft spot for him that is bigger than Cybertron itself. It's incredibly sweet. There is also some incredibly heart-warming Optiratch in there. ^^ It's a bit bittersweet but in the best of ways. :3

Autobots, Pass Out! by @yamiquietshadowflo (Quiet_Shadow on AO3)

Ratchet is far too busy and stressed to just drop everything he's doing and go to sleep, even Optimus gives him his best 'So-Disappointed-In-You Look'. Recharge? Who needs that when there is so much to fret about? (Un)Fortunately for the medic, Optimus isn't the type of mech who give up and he's not above for the most underhanded, sneaky tactic at his disposition: Sending in Bumblebee and Raf.

Adorable. Funny. Sweet. :3 I love that Ratchet knows exactly what Bee and Raf are doing, but is absolutely helpless to it anyways. Absolutely adore that it is implied that, now that this has happened once, Bee will keep making it happen. They deserve their cuddles. Optimus is absolutely hilarious, too. :D

Napping Spot by @keef-a-corn (Keef_A_Corn on AO3)

I have a soft spot for Bee and Ratchet. Sometimes you just gotta hold your little Bee. It's short and cute. I have nothing else to say.

Honestly, this is just utterly adorable. 10/10. Could read it every five minutes. I should probably read it every five minutes.

Promises and Failures by @theiceemperor (Windify on AO3)

He’d made up his mind the moment they found out that the scout’s T-Cog was missing. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to fix Bee.

Now this. Whenever I read this story, I just want to shake some sense into Ratchet because he ist just infuriatingly reckless. Because, yeah, he should definitely not have operated on himself and then not told anyone. At the same time, however, I absolutely get why he is doing it. That's his baby boy who's hurting, after all, and there's all that old medic guilt and self-consciousness and love for Bee that drives him to his decision. In the end I'd probably be too much of a sap to wrench him before hugging him. Even if he'd deserve it for endangering himself like that.

I also just love Bee and Ratchet's interaction at the end of the story. That just oozes their love for another. :3

Now go and read at least one of these fics, they are all absolutely amazing.

[sillykitty9000]

Ready To Pay In Full by Teethies on AO3 is a masterpiece and I need to talk about it right now

Mild-moderate spoilers ahead + Cw: mention of sexual harassment and abusive power dynamics

First of all, how the fuck was THAT written in only 4 days? 10k words of beautifully thought out in-character plot? In 4 DAYS??? Good lord, that is incredible! Also, Teethies mentioned that this was their first time writing fanfiction? Unfair if you ask me. (/lht) It was wonderfully written, and I can not believe how much I enjoyed it.

Chapter 1: It opens beautifully. The descriptions are rich, and the characters are so real. Not only is Teethies's voice portrayed well throughout the story, but the characters' voices are seen wonderfully, too. It briefly, but not inconsistently, fills in the end of OUAW and sets the scene in a realistic way. It is admirable how Teethies can make both Kremy and Gideon in character even without having them speak; their body language shows expression without any semblance of "He did this, he moved there." I really enjoy how Teethies handles small details, like how Gideon’s hair leaves ashes on his new shirt; it's not necessary to the plot, but it gives the story so much more life. Gideon and Kremy feel real in the way they interact, and they are sweet in the way that only they can be. Vague flirty remarks just before moderate insults. Reading this feels like I'm listening to their campaign with how accurate these characters are. This whole chapter explores character history, especially Kremy’s, and it really goes in-depth as to why they each do the things they do. Again, they're all so in character that it feels like I'm really there. Even the subtle nonverbal reactions feel like the characters, and it's really sweet seeing Kremy and Gideon interact in the way they're so used to. Outside help brings them a bit closer, and it's a really nice way of showing how close they are, even if they aren't explicitly romantic. Again, I really appreciate how in-depth this story goes with Kremy’s history. I never really considered what his past before the Carnival but after his childhood would be like, but Teethies perfectly explains why Kremy is so powerful and how he knows so much about Garou. It really paints how Kremy behaves, and I loved every second of the first chapter.

Chapter 2: How this fic somehow IMPROVED upon their first chapter was something out of a dream. As someone who hasn't caught up on the campaign entirely, I don't know much about Mr. Garou, other than they owe him money, but Teethies does a wonderful job characterizing him in a way that feels canon and makes me understand the motivations of the characters through the story. Also, Teethies makes him a completely horrible person in a truly aggravating way. He is unredeemable, he is unlikable, and he is perfect for that. Not once was I thinking that he may change his ways, and it makes the morally questionable Kremy and Gideon seem like good people. It made me feel bad for them, and it made me enjoy their character just that much more. This chapter definitely favors the view of Gideon as opposed to the Kremy central story of the first chapter, and it really shows their differences. Kremy’s chapter was anxious. It was so obviously fearful, but it had the comforting figure of Gideon beside him. In this chapter, however, there is no comfort. Gideon is angry, he is concerned, and he has no one to turn to. He is supposed to be the protector, but he quickly learns how powerless he is in the face of Mr. Garou. Around here is where Mr. Garou gets really gross. Again, he is an unforgivable evil man, and Teethies portrays him as such. The way he talks to Gideon, but especially Kremy, makes me a bit sick. He is so cruel, and it makes you feel bad for all that Kremy has had to put up with. Gideon naturally responds with anger, but he then has suggestion cast over him. This part is actually fascinating to me because I've never considered how suggestion would work. I love how Teethies describes it as comforting magic because that really ties in to the wisdom mechanics of the game. Gideon could choose to disobey, but Kremy is mentally praising him and is so happy to see how well-behaved he is. He must be a bit scared to disobey because he feels that Kremy could leave at any point and never take him back, and that's where his wisdom fails him. He does not know that Kremy cares about him as much as he does, and that's why he submits so easily to suggestion. He does not want to lose Kremy over something like disobeying orders. We see again how badly Gideon does not want to lose Kremy at the end, where they find themselves in an argument over the entire scene with Remy Garou. It wonderfully breaks down their feelings into a soft scene, and it concludes a fantastic story.

This fanfiction was incredible from beginning to end, and it made me go through so many emotions at any given point. While there is romance, it is not the main focus which is fantastic. It really dives into the depths of each character and how they exist in their world, but also shows the inner workings of their minds without being too invasive. It was a fantastic read, and I highly recommend it.

[lazyveran]

Heyyyy how is it going? I had a question about the political marriage au.

You talked about how jealous katara is of tylee, is it because tylee is azula’s ex (or even someone azula had intimate relationship with)? Or cause tylee is a tease and clingy to azula but azula is oblivious cause it’s tylee she had always been like this.

How is the relationship between tylee and azula in your au?

Thanksss for this amazing au I can’t wait to read the fic.

SO. i have many thoughts on this. my personal fun time hc characterisation for ty lee is that she's kind of (insanely incredibly) toxic when it comes to attention seeking and personal relationships. my idea of ty lee is that she endlessly chases attention - any attention, good or bad - and drops anything and everything once she thinks she's not getting enough/losing/getting bored of said attention. however she IS locked in for life to her childhood friendships with azula, mai and zuko because they afford her the only stability she's ever really had. essentially, shes co-dependant on the group and a toxic, flaky attention-seeker. i LOVE her and her insane brain.

NOW. the way that relates to the azutara au is that ty lee is highkey annoyed azula now has a wife that's taking up her time and emotional investment. very rude. she's grown up with azula and has this possessive attachment to her and to the INTENSE devotion and attention azula gives ty lee (yipeee emotional issues!!). azula is pretty much used to ty lee being like this, it's just one of her normal quirks like auras and whatnot, so she doesnt bat an eye at it. oh ty lee is hanging off her arm directly in front of her wife? that ty lee, she's so silly!

i think im leaning more on the idea they had this really super intense friendship as children (in love with each other and never realised it/said anything) and that kind of carried on/morphed into this strange, a-little-too-close-for-best-friends situation as adults.

katara has to watch in excrutiation as ty lee teases and goads (poking to get attention) while azula defends the damn woman because "this is just how ty lee is" as in she's EMOTIONALLY DUMB and can't see the very obvious weird ass dynamic they have. katara gains a fun new sixth sense called *detect when ty lee is being weirdly intimate with azula* as a result. its very effective

[thelordofgifs]

End of Year Fic Recs

Thank you @sallysavestheday for the tag and the kind rec 💕

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Five WIPS from 2023:

we will make this place our home by @leucisticpuffin. 200k, AU, kidnap fam. The loveliest softest 1970s AU! It feels like reading all my favourite cozy childhood books and the characterisation is impeccable (Maglor my DARLING). Cannot recommend enough.

seabird by @welcomingdisaster. 24k, AU, russingon. "Give me a quick russingon prompt for smut week," Lena said. I obliged. This happened. Anyway the dynamics are so so good and the characterisation is so so good (Maedhros you little IDIOT) and the suspense!! is so good!! Everyone go and read it immediately.

ashes, ashes, dust to dust — the devil's after both of us by @that-angry-noldo. 9k, AU, Finarfin and Maedhros and Maglor. Maedhros and Maglor come up with a plan to capture the High King of the Noldor in return for the Silmaril. SUCH good m&m (I am a single-issue voter ok!) and incredible Finarfin/Eonwe dynamics as well, I cannot wait to see where this fic goes next.

Atandil by @eilinelsghost. 105k, canon compliant, Finrod/Bëor. The best worldbuilding, THE most gorgeous flowing heartrending prose, absolutely incredible characterisation... I am so so obsessed with this series you can't imagine. Still weeping over part 14 a month later.

And Love Grew by @polutrope. 8k, canon compliant, kidnap fam. A newer WIP, but I'm already so hooked! So far the characterisations of all the Fëanorians have been delicious and there are SO many compelling OCs as well.

Five one-shots from 2023:

Sea-Bells and Sunlight by @actual-bill-potts. 4.5k, canon compliant, Finrod and Lúthien and Beren. Lúthien finds both Finrod and Beren in the Halls of Mandos. LOVE the shifting dreamlike nature of Mandos here, and my darling Lúthien is so so perfect. Also all the Finrod feels... aahhh.

Somewhere To Return To by @searchingforserendipity25. 4k, canon compliant, Maedhros and Maglor, russingon. Just the softest loveliest most heartbreaking post-Thangorodrim fic. LetMaedhrosNap2k23.

the world to come by @arrivisting. 4k, AU, Fëanor/Nerdanel. A chilling imagining of Arda Remade, featuring some incredible Fëanor characterisation and the most gorgeous beautiful prose.

Quicksilver by @clothonono. 26k, AU, Indis/Míriel. Beautiful beautiful writing and wonderful characterisation. One of the fics that made me adore Indis.

What Will the Kinslayer Lord Do Next? by @tanoraqui. 3k, canon compliant, Maedhros and Maglor. Ok this is a spin-off of The Minstrel and the Star which you should also read because it's excellent but. again. SINGLE-ISSUE VOTER. and this is a top-tier m&m fic, all that tenderness and grief and bitterness and some delicious musings on the Oath and Silmarils.

Five older fics:

and one man, in his time, plays many parts by @lintamande. Canon compliant, Maglor and his younger brothers. One of my favourite Mithrim-era fics.

seven years of holidays by @jouissants. 10k, AU, kidnap fam. Elrond and Elros find a strange elf in the woods. Excellent kidnap fam dynamics and absolutely beautiful prose.

A reason to live (a reason it is not permissible to die) by Chestnut_pod. 27k, canon compliant, Eärendil/Elwing. Absolutely incredible Sirion worldbuilding and a wonderful depiction of Elwing.

elves, once by @ceescedasticity. 43k, canon compliant. THE most horrifyingly plausible theory of how orcs came to be. Both heartbreaking and fascinating.

It's the New World, Darling by @avantegarda. 107k, AU. A truly delightful 19th-20th century AU of the silm. Nothing makes me laugh as much as Victorian!Fëanorians.

Five self-recs:

The hard bit!

Ilimbë. 15k, canon compliant, Fëanor/Nerdanel. I still think this is the best thing I've ever written! Check it out if you're interested in Greek mythology, or in baby Fëanor making an idiot of himself.

the fairest stars. 78k, AU, Maedhros & Maglor, russingon, Beren/Lúthien and more. Probably my favourite of my fics, if not objectively my best. I know I love to hate on tfs for being completely insane, but I'm also pretty proud of it. It's got some of my best m&m, a rather in-depth exploration of the nuances of the Oath of Fëanor, and SO SO MANY cliffhangers. A silly bullet point fic that is also somehow the one I've put the most thought and effort into over the year.

in the breaking. 2k, canon compliant, Maedhros & Maglor. Still very fond of this one.

Inflection. 9k, canon compliant, kidnap fam. A very difficult one to write, but I'm proud of the result.

The Stranger. 928 words, canon compliant, Maedhros and Maglor. A very tiny little ficlet, but I like how I captured the post-Thangorodrim dynamics here.

Going to tag everyone I mentioned here, if you'd like to share!

[spoofymcgee]

BNHA Fic Rec List

finally getting around to putting one of these together because i'm in another bnha phase and tearing through all my bookmarks.

Crack

Painappuru by Icka M Chif

3k, Erasermic, Fluff and Humor

this fic comes with an excellent podfic by sisi_rambles

Summary:

The first time Shōta wakes up with a hangover, he finds himself in bed, with Hizashi wrapped around him, and a pineapple.

This becomes something of a habit.

Not all secondary quirks are battle applicable. Or easy to explain.

Rec: this is an incredibly cracky erasermic fic where aizawa has a secondary quirk that lets him summon present mic and also a variable number of pineapples by getting drunk and falling asleep. one of my all-time favorites, and i especially love the secondary quirk bit because that's one of my favorite tropes.

Impressionable by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

5.3k, Gen, Aizawa Shouta & Yamada Hizashi & Iida Tensei

really anything Thealmostrhetoricalquestion writes is just overall excellent, so if you're looking for an incredible writer with a wide variety go check them out.

Summary:

Aizawa spits out a mouthful of hair and says, “Give me coffee, and fuck off.”

There’s a tiny gasp from the doorway. Tensei is fast as a whip when he turns and stares, wide-eyed, at the very small figure of his younger brother outlined by the hallway light. He’s got pyjamas on, fancy silk things, and he’s holding, of all things, a clipboard. Aizawa squints. He’s pretty sure the kid isn’t even ten yet, although he can’t be sure, because the Iida’s seem naturally gangly, and he’s never been very good with kids. How do you measure them? They don't seem to come with a scale.

“You shouldn’t be saying words like that,” Iida says very sternly. “I’m impressionable.”

Rec: this has so many crunchy character dynamics and i love it so much. this is one of my favorite gen pairings and i always love the premise of iida having known aizawa through his brother before ua.

"Average Person Gets Kidnapped 3 Times A Year" Factoid Actually Just Statistical Error by ohshiddlesticks

4.6k, Bakugou & Midoriya

another author whose fics are all on my metaphorical bookshelf. excellent writing and a hilarious premise.

Summary:

"Midoriya Izuku just sort of assumed that everyone else got kidnapped at least once a year, and his once-or-twice-a-month ordeals were just a little bit more than normal."

Bakugou gets kidnapped, and Izuku is surprised that nobody else knows what to do. It's a normal childhood occurrence, right?

Rec: the crunchiest dynamic between bakugou and midoriya. i live for them being absolutely wild together and this fic delivers.

i have been in love with love (and the idea of something binding us together) by Drhair76

6.3k, Gen, Midoriya & Class 1-A

there will also be a gen category on this list because i'm a slut for good gen fics, but this is just cracky enough i'm putting it here.

Summary:

"So we're gonna just not acknowledge the fact that you yanked Todoroki from the other side of the couch with only a thought?" Shinsou asks, eyebrow raising.

"Well-"

"Shinsou," Todoroki says, cutting Midoriya off, "we're sleeping. Go find your own Midoriya to bother."

or, Midoriya develops a latent quirk that pulls people he has an mutual affection for towards him with just a thought. Class 1A thinks it's cute. Midoriya does not.

Rec: absolutely delightful character dynamics, a tiny bit of heartwrenching angst and a lovely happy ending. i might have to draw the scene of all might being yanked across the cafeteria to hold midoriya.

It's Not Gay If It's The Homies by palant1r

23k, mostly gen, all different dynamics in Class 1-A and 1-B

one of the funniest things i've ever read. technically unfinished but each character mostly stands by itself so not really.

Summary:

When Hizashi tells Midoriya that "kissing the homies goodnight" is an American tradition, Shota figures it's nothing more than an unfunny joke, and the whole thing will end there.

It doesn't. Because Midoriya has a lot of homies, and he wants them all to feel loved.

Rec: the premise of this is incredible and all the dynamics are just delightful. has iida/bakugou which is one of my favorite rarepairs, but most of the focus of the fic is platonic relationships. so many fun headcanons, too.

top koalaty romance by curovogel

5k (with a 3k sequel), Bakugou/Todoroki, Animal Transformation

if you read one thing on this list make it this.

Summary:

Bakugou wakes up to find his husband is different. Japan watches.

The koala smacks its lips together loudly and impatiently claps its paws together.

dance to be seen by IHaveNothingToDo

Yup, Katsuki thinks as he rolls his eyes, it’s Todoroki alright.

Rec: this is maybe actually the funniest thing i've read in my whole life. the dynamic between bakugou and todoroki is perfectly written as is bakugou's character and i just love all of it.

Gen

dance to be seen by IHaveNothingToDo

1.7k, Hagakure-centric

this fic is one of the most beautiful things i've ever read.

Summary:

Hagakure Toru is invisible. She is invisible in among the bright minds of her class and she is invisible now.

She will be invisible later

Now, she is awake, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. She has a chem lab in the morning, a gymnastics meet in the afternoon, and two quizzes in between. Most of the girls on her floor have already gone to bed. Most of the girls on her floor have taken someone to bed

Toru swipes at her tears and sits up.

She stands up, stretching the ache of loneliness out of her muscles, and reaches into her closet. She moves by texture, letting her hands decide what should go with what. It’s comfortable here in the dark, no one can see her and no one can see anyone else.

Her hands find the slick surface of what she knows to be a holographic skirt. She grips it, debating. It’s a skirt for dancing, for heavy music and for dark rooms.

She pulls it out.

Rec: i don't actually have words for how much i love this fic. hagakure is such an underrated character and this author writes her so well. the fic itself is like poetry, or being in a crush of people you love, or like the stitch in your side when you're with a friend and you can't stop laughing.

problem child, golden boy by laurenshappenstobemyhusbad

4.6k, Aizawa & Bakugou, Class 1-A As Family

read. this. please for the love of god, i promise it is so good. also go read everything else by this author.

Summary:

"Katsuki, have you taken your meds today? You know you have to take them with breakfast, go do that."

"Katsuki, I know you haven't been doing your sign language practice. Stop groveling, I'll have Present Mic help you with it."

"Katsuki, it's three in the morning, go to sleep. There's cinnamon tea in the kettle, take some for yourself, then go to bed."

The response was always the same: a grunt, a muttered expletive, and then compliance. The compliance part was what made class 1-A lose their shit every time.

OR: It was common knowledge in the UA dorms that Bakugou Katsuki answered to only one human, and his name was Aizawa Shouta.

Rec: the CRUNCHIEST character dynamic between bakugou and aizawa. the entire class is baffled by it and it's so funny and so sweet. also full of a bunch of delightful headcanons.

Katsuki and Izuku's Excellent Adventure(s) by pepperfield

13k (with two sequels that are 40k together), Bakugou & Midoriya, Post-Canon

i honestly think this is my new favorite. i read the whole series in a day last week and i can't stop thinking about it.

Summary:

“Karaoke, Kacchan.” Deku slams his palms on the table, fire in his eyes. “I need a rematch.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

With his boyfriend out of town and the crime rate up, Bakugou hasn't been having a great week. Deku does his best to make things worse.

(Friendship sure is beautiful.)

Rec: i've said it before and i'll say it again but if nothing else read this for the dynamic between bakugou and midoriya because it's just so, so good. this author has such an incredible take on them, and draws the rest of class 1-a into it in the most fun way.

imprint by wonhaebunny

4.9k, bakugou & eri, bakugou & midoriya

i'm limiting myself to one fic by each author otherwise this fic would be 90% wonhaebunny's fics. go check the rest out, please.

Summary:

Katsuki handles Eri with far more ease than an only child has any business possessing. Shouta observes.

Or: Bakugou Katsuki may not have grown up with any younger siblings, but he did grow up with a Deku. It amounts to about the same.

Rec: the premise of this is so delightful, and the way bakugou handles eri is so funny and sweet. i don't have much to say because the fic speaks for itself.

Sunlit Snowflakes by thatgirl_youknowtheone

6.9k, Dabi & Todoroki Rei, Character-centric

part of a currently updating series, some of the most interesting (and fucking delightful) takes on their characters i've ever seen.

Summary:

Dabi pulled out the old wilted rindous and laid them down beside the vase before carefully passing the fresh flowers from one hand to the other, shifting his grip on the windowsill, leaving his body vulnerable to the unforgiving laws of gravity for a brief moment.

He tucked the flowers into the vase and gave the still figure on the bed one last glance before getting ready to shimmy back across the ledge.

He had just shuffled away from the window when fingers as cold as his own suddenly wrapped around his wrist. He spun his head so fast he nearly lost his balance, but the grip on his wrist kept him steady against the wall.

Steely grey eyes latched onto his as Rei Todoroki leaned halfway out the window, holding onto him tight.

"Touya."

Rec: this is a little. idk if darker is the right word? than most fics on this list, for reasons that are central to the way the characters are written and also make it so, so good. both of them are unhinged for excellent reasons and i can't wait to see where the series goes.

butterfly skies by ashenice

5.8k (part one of a 34k series), Hawks & Midoriya, Humor

ashenice is also one of my favorite authors, and this series in particular is just so, so good.

Summary:

"Are you sure you're quirkless?" Keigo asked bluntly.

"Yes? I mean why?" Green Hair's eyes went wide. "Do you think I have a quirk?"

"Yes." Keigo said dryly. "Either extreme luck or extremely shitty luck. I haven't decided which of the two it is yet."

(Keigo meets a very interesting kid who can't seem to stop getting in trouble.)

Rec: this fic has such a perfect dynamic between midoriya and hawks, and an absolutely delightful and sneaky take on midoriya's character in particular.

Toolbelt by LadyLiterature

4.3k, Midoriya & Snipe, Quirkless Midoriya

ooooooo this fic is just so good, please read it.

Summary:

The first thing Snipe tells him, once he commits to taking the bean sprout under his wing, is the truth about his quirk, True Target. Specifically, he tells the kid it’s fake and that he doesn’t and never had a quirk to begin with.

The first thing Snipe tells him, is that he’s just like him.

Rec: i'm not the biggest fan of this trope but i love the way it examines it without throwing any other characters under the bus. the little details and pieces are also so delightful.

Bunny Kick Your Teeth Out by Oceanbreeze7

9.1k, Bakugou & Miruko, Internship Fic

i actually cannot describe how good this is. has a fun 16k sequel post-canon which is just as stupidly gold.

Summary:

“Oi, Deku!” Bakugou shouted, eyes meeting startled green. “How often do fucking heroes contact students for internships?”

Deku looked startled, floundering a tad under the attention. “I- uh- never?”

“Huh,” Bakugou said, reading over the letter again.

“What?” Kirishima gaped. “Did a hero mail you a letter?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Fuck no. I think that bitch Miruko-whatever sent me a fucking death threat and her number.”

Rec: this fic has everything. ass-kicking, miruko being the most badass hero every, fucking delightful character dynamics, and anything else you could dream of.

backbone by kuragay

6.2k, Midoriya & Aizawa, Hurt/Comfort, Character-centric

actually indescribable. so good, hurts in the best way, very cathartic.

Summary:

Izuku wakes up in the hospital, the ceiling so familiar that it’s almost comforting, but when he turns to the side, it’s to Aizawa’s disappointed face, and the momentary comfort is quickly stripped away.

“You can’t keep doing this,” his former teacher says, his eyes tired and his long, dark hair limp. “Please.”

It’s the ‘please’ that does it, Izuku thinks.

-

Izuku grows his hair out, grows his self-worth out, and learns to rely on others.

Rec: i don't have the words. this fic made me cry, the details like his hair and his dynamic with bakugou had me putting it down to take deep breaths, and it changed my brain chemistry a little bit.

you've made me a home by periapsis

3.3k, Slice of Life, Post-Canon, Character-centric

i spent three hours hunting this fic down so i could reread it and it's just as good as i remembered.

Summary:

After graduation, Shōto tentatively helps his mother move into a new house but finds his way home all the same (ft. Midoriya Izuku and Midoriya Inko).

Rec: i swear, this is the most beautiful fic i've ever read. the imagery is so evocative, the character dynamics made me want to cry, and the way it talks about todoroki is just. i don't even have words for it.

could i but teach the hundredth part by terra_incognita

5.1k, All Might & Class 1-A, Post-Canon

i need to give this a reread. it's so delightful.

Summary:

Ito Matsu knows three things about her neighbor, Mr. Yagi: he's very skinny, he's very kind, and he has enough children to overthrow the Japanese government.

Or:

All Might is retired, but his former students keep coming up with reasons to visit.

Rec: it's not fresh in my memory but i loved this fic so much the first time i read it. the writing is so lovely and the way all might is written makes me so happy.

journey to the past by aloneintherain

44.8k, Midoriya & Class 1-A, Time Travel

no clue how i made it this far on the list without a fic by aloneintherain. hands down one of the best bnha authors.

Summary:

Izuku is five years old the first time he's saved by heroes. He's an instant fan of the woman in pink with her cheerful smile and the man with his ice powers and fine-boned features, even if they both refuse to tell him their names.

For most of his life, Izuku has been the centre of villain attacks, but he has never been injured. Every time, he's saved by bright, unknown heroes—heroes who smile at Izuku, and ruffle his hair or ply him with hugs, and seem mesmerised by how small he is.

Heroes that the rest of the world doesn't believe exists.

(Time-travelling Class 1-A AU)

Rec: it's been a hot minute since i read it but the dynamic between midoriya and all of his classmates is so excellently written, and the premise is just delightful.

Once More unto the Breach by nivo

5.4k (with a 1.2k sequel), Bakugou-centric, Permanent Injury

oh the characterization in this is so, so good.

Summary:

When life gives you lemons, remind it that you have nitroglycerin. Poor fucker never stood a chance.

Rec: i love the way bakugou's internal monologue and interpretation is written in this and all the different relationships he has with the different characters, especially uraraka.

Romance

the ground my feet won't reach by wonhaebunny

3.3k, Bakugou/Iida

breaking my rule here because this fic is so fucking good and everyone needs to read it

Summary:

Iida’s frozen in action, arms suspended comically in the air in the middle of one of his characteristic chopping motions. His eyes are wide, laser-focused on the glasses in Katsuki’s hands, and he’s turned a peculiar shade of red.

“Dude,” Kirishima says, concerned. “I think you broke him.”

Rec: i love literally everything about this fic. it lives rent free in my brain 24/7. the descriptions of iida, the relationship between bakugou and his dad, everything. god. read this, please.

wanna put my tender heart in a blender by lexlex

15.7k, Bakugou/Todoroki, Future Fic

i am THE head advocate for very long oneshots and this is one of the best ones i've ever read.

Summary:

Todoroki won’t eat anything peach flavored and likes his water exactly room temperature. He won’t let Katsuki make their tea because “he does it wrong” even though he does it absolutely right. He once made Katsuki listen to voice recordings of one of his cats meowing at different times of the day to “see if she sounded more melancholy earlier in the morning.” For being like, kind of jacked, his hips and shoulders and elbows are bony as fuck. He, as a rule, has to sleep on the right side of the bed or he can’t sleep at all. Katsuki fucking hates him.

And now previously empty corners of his brain are filled with all of this dumb shit about stupid Todoroki and he has to cart it around all the fuckin’ time.

Rec: this fic has everything. the dynamic between bakugou and midoriya is so fucking funny, all the headcanons are delightful, and overall everything about it is just the best.

when the sea rises to meet us by aloera

8.7k, Hagakure/Mina, Mermaid AU

look when i say that this fic is goals and also the actual sweetest thing i've ever read i am not kidding.

Summary:

Tooru was right. Mina fits in her arms just right, snug like a hermit crab in its perfect shell.

Safe here, Tooru’s mind says, something proud rising in her chest. Safer than the ship. Safer than the rest of the sea. Safest here. Safest with me.

“I’m going to get you to land,” Tooru promises.

Mina is looking at her, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Beautiful,” she breathes. Her eyelids flutter shut.

Pointy-toothed, glowy-eyed, terrifying-looking mermaid Tooru rescues sailor Mina and wrestles with the idea that this romance can't be anything but temporary.

Rec: we all know that aloera is one of the best bnha authors ever (and if you don't go discover that rn, you're welcome) and this fic in particular is one of my favorites because. well. lesbian mermaid au. need i say more. but i will, because the characterization is impeccable and i would kill for the worldbuilding.

wish our secrets farewell by mallsthemyth

1k, Asui/Uraraka, Before The Final Battle

god. GOD. i don't even have words.

Summary:

She wants to take Ochako on a date. She wants to spend time with her. Tsu wants.

Rec: this fic is maybe the most heartbreaking, hopeful thing i've ever read. it's a gut punch of emotion and so fucking sweet and it's part of a whole series i need to read but the first one just knocked my lights out and i haven't yet.

i was busy thinking 'bout... by crossroadswrite

3.4k, Midoriya/Several People, Bi Disaster Midoriya

i don't know if this technically counts as romance but midoriya is just me to a t in this fic so i had to put it.

Summary:

He wonders at times if this is divine retribution for something he did. Is it punishment? Is he being punished with pretty boys who can snap him in half? Is that it? Or is this a reward perhaps? Can you call being tormented by handsome boys a reward? Probably.

(or: local bi boy too gay for this, more at eleven.)

Rec: this is just midoriya being a bi disaster about everyone and appreciating how pretty and smart and capable and strong all of his friends and classmates are, and i love it so much.

Peachy Keen by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

3.4k, Bakugou/Midoriya, Post-Canon, Slice of Life

breaking my own rule again to yell about how good this fic is.

Rec: i'm a sucker for a well-written dynamic between midoriya and bakugou and this has that and also everything else i could ever want.

Summary:

In which there are not-so-secret plans, birthday hand-holding, and Katsuki reminisces over how quiet and peaceful things were when he wasn't dating a giant nerd.

It’s still early, even after the long drive, and some stalls are still setting up. Deku eventually forgives him for his earlier comment, and he brightens up as they traipse around the market, bobbing along like a cheerful green balloon. Usually Katsuki would have a plan in mind, a mental route already mapped out, but he’s strangely alright with browsing for the moment.

Until Deku opens his big mouth.

“Hypothetically, if I knew about something nice that was going to happen at some point in the very near future, would you want me to tell you or let it be a surprise?”

[forlix]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

omg how fun, thank u for sending this in nonnie !!! let me see...

@astraystayyh and hyunjin would have to be some 800k ao3 slow burn about forbidden love between royal families ... the grandest and most poetic of period drama romances that persists through backstabbing and betrayal and trial after tribulation. nothing less for my artistic soulmates

the first tropes to come to mind for @rachalixie and minho are literally just. not even really tropes. established relationship. domestic fluff. slice of life. they're That Couple. nobody remembers when they weren't together. they invite me over for dinner when i've had a bad day. mom and dad

@like-a-diamondinthesky and seungmin are the EPITOME of (fake) enemies to lovers. they're the sweetest, silliest, most sinister people and i just know their dynamic would be a dream come true for each other and a nightmare for everyone else

sue is just her "eighteen" mc in my head so @soobnny and seungmin scream best friends to lovers + college au to me. seung being the best cheerleader for her while she's crazy busy :') also she flusters v easily and i think he'd get a kick out of that (ik i do)

@luvtak and felix are giving childhood friends to lovers! the sort of relationship where they know each other better than they've ever known anything; really just the safest, warmest, and kindest of affections for the safest, warmest, and kindest of people

i'm gonna cheat again and hc @sunboki and chan as a trope from august's mafia au "korea's most wanted"; augs is so creative and badass and SEXY and so is the main couple's dynamic in that fic. chan's a lucky man. DITCH HIM FOR ME 🗣️

@txtxlz and jeongin would be a multipart messy love triangle ft. jealousy and pining and so much chaos bc haz has more biases than i have fingers or toes and i love love the idea of her favorite idols going to war over her. it's what my baby deserves fr

for @2baabbies and felix, i imagine perhaps a barista au or a librarian au (hehehehe) where he finds stupid excuses to come back and pick bae's brain every day because he's utterly enraptured by her. she has that effect on people and lix would NOT be immune

@starsandrqindrops and seungmin are so fwb-coded. think suffocating chemistry every time they interact. could cut the tension with a dull machete. then inevitably complications like Feelings come into play and they dance around each other for ages before finally giving in ... mm yes all that good stuff

last but not least, @hyunnie04 and hyunjin would be so perfect for an art school!au. mira is an incredible artist so i'm picturing these two sketching each other instead of paying attention in class ,,, gallery/museum dates ,,,, maybe a sprinkle of healthy competition who knows ,,,,

[dufferpuffer]

What are your thoughts on snack as a ship.

There are many fics out there. Some as the teen versions and others as adult them.

One fic i really enjoyed but it had the plot of taking James away from Sirius for plot purpose. You know because James wants to keep bullying. So it was like Sirius+remus on one side where snack takes place while James and peter on the other side with jily happening on the side.

I really loved this story and the characterisation was good too but I can't see Sirius especially teen Sirius willingly breaking up with bff James. I think it would have been more fun if James tried to make friends with snape for his bff sake . Only for Sirius you know. He would not do so for lily but Sirius just has that power over him with puppy dog eyes.

Another fic I read was about ootp snack. Again it was done nicely but again here remus characterisation was a little skewed because for me post azkaban Sirius and remus didn't have a good buddy ship. They were just hanging in there for old times sake.

I mean it was not like someone hit a pause button on their friendship for 12years. Their friendship was already in ruins before James death. So i was a little icky about remus being like a normal friend and giving relationship advice and you know teasing Sirius. Because I can't see a traumatized Sirius willingly making fun with a remus. Cause one thing which I highly appreciate about canon Sirius is that he after being stuck so long, didn't seem to be struck in the past, he kept on pushing and moving forward while lupin often came across as missing good old times. They both had loads of free time in their respective isolation years but their reaction to it is different.

Anyways I really don't like how snape becomes super comfortable around lupin when he begins a relationship with Sirius in snack fics . He is scared of werewolf and fear is not rational. He won't be practical and think oh well it is not the full moon night, i an safe.

Wouldn't it feel real that even after years of being in a relationship, snape still avoid being alone with the resident wolf. In turn remus hating being avoided by thr person his bff will marry and instead of clearing the air out like a normal person, he antagonize snape. Sirius struck in the middle. Both sides ranting to him. Making him Choose, in snapes case as an ultimatum and in Remus's case passive aggressive tone. I mean Remus can play people, he can make it so that Sirius leaves snape because his bf is making his friend uncomfortable and remus is little munchkin who shouldn't be troubled.

Sorry i got carried away.

So the ask is - 1)snape and Sirius relationship thoughts - both a teen/ yong adult snack and adult traumatized snack , if you could go in that much details. + 2) How remus and snape interact , their dynamic in the role of friend and boyfriend+ 3) remus's behavior if ootp Sirius and Severus date. ( like genuinely what will he do because I can't see him being overly supportive and teasing Sirius and befriending snape etc)

Bonus : Lily and snape circling around each other (a non voldy au where they are young adults) being the partner of the main marauders knowing all too well that j and s will always be friend so they will have to suck it up if they want to stay in relationship with their respective partner.

Omg the possibilities of drama in this scenario. I mean people often tight love stories about enemies to lovers but the fun in exploring James 's reaction in learning his bff is dating snivelus. The betrayal but then it is Sirius so he will just wait until they just break up. 😂

I don't even know if you have interest in all this, please ignore if not.

Anonymous asked: What’s your take on Sirius/Snape?

Thank you for the asks!!! I've never thought too much about Snack (Sirius/Severus) before, so this was a lot of fun! They have a lot in common, but went in incompatible directions: + Both had unhappy childhoods, with a family that abused them. + Both are incredibly loyal and fight to the death. + Both are intelligent problem-solvers who boldly face challenges head-on. + Both are honest people. They blatantly say what they think. + Both are sarcastic, witty, sometimes a little cruel - but are caring at their core. – Sirius, raised in a Pureblood 'Slytherin' house, rejected every part of that heritage and built himself a new identity. – Severus, raised in a muggle house, found appreciation for his magical skills and purpose amongst Slytherin/DE's.

...I don't think there is much hope for them being friends if Sirius meets James first. James shines brightly with everything he wishes his life was: Laid back, messy, relaxed, free... Like a moth to a flame.

I agree that Sirius leaving his friends seems out of character. I think it flows better if there is a change in the environment that forces change in a character, such as: If Sirius never met James on the train - and sorted into Slytherin. ((1700 words; 3 parts: 1970s, 1990s, Remus))

1970s

If a bitter, lonely Sirius Black unsatisfied with his home life could sit down and get to know Snape, (not just butt heads like a pair of goats)... I think after a period of rivalry (them both being the two smartest in their house) they would become inseparable. Once they realized they could understand eachother so deeply, and are fascinated by eachother's worlds (muggle and pureblood) their loyalty would WELD to eachother.

Shaggy, black haired twins. The Snake-Eyes of Slytherin. The King of Transfiguration and the Prince of Potions.

- People assume Severus is Sirius' brother instead of Regulus. - They would mark their shared research/journal entries 'S.S.' in two different inks. - They would steer clear of Death Eaters – and Severus wouldn't need them in order to feel accepted. He has Sirius. - They'll be a couple of menaces: sarcastic and snarky, more interested in their own feelings above all others... - A little bullying. Sirius likes to talk smack on those he doesn't respect, but nothing serious. Maybe a hex or two. (James was more the physical bully, anyway - Sirius was at the sidelines jeering.) - Without being bullied, without facing constant pain and humiliation, without having to work out counter-jinxes... I don't think Severus would get interested in Dark Magic. - Neither of them would be able to stand James. His life has been easy, he was loved and supported... yet he has the nerve to look down upon Slytherins? He doesn't know what they have BOTH been through.

Would Severus still be friends with Lily? From his end, I think so - he is very loyal. But would she get along with Sirius' boisterous attitude? Would she think he is changing Severus for the worse? Would she get a little jealous...? It used to be just them in a world of Muggles, playing with their magic... and now Severus is smitten. Would she worry that Sirius Black is isolating him socially because they so deeply rely on eachother?

...Would she become closer to James, Remus and Peter? THAT is an interesting group... That's enough about teenagers. I want men. Man time.

1990s

Sirius and Severus have even MORE common-ground. Like grudges :) ...But they are also broken in more ways that make it difficult.

Severus has had to learn to mask his emotions. To lie. To sit back and watch horrible things happen so he can act at the best time. ...These are characteristics Sirius struggles to comprehend. He is still just as honest, just as brazen, just as bold as ever. - Sirius see's things like lying as being scummy, weak, turning your back on your morals, on who you are... for the sake of staying alive a little longer!? Cowardice! - Severus thinks Sirius is immature. Dying so easily is just selfishness masquerading as selflessness. Stay alive and fight, even at the cost of everything you are.

+ They are both stubborn; unlikely to like someone they have decided to hate. + They have both lost the light of their life to something that was partially their fault. + They have both had their lives, their dreams for the future, utterly destroyed. + They have both been trapped in a form of 'servitude' ever since that day. + They are both tired, with foul tempers. + They are both, more often than not... alone.

They are very alike... but they feel like they share nothing. The way they see the world is alien to eachother. It's a large bridge to cross... and they are both the sort to not want to bother crossing large bridges.

But they do share one all-encompassing important thing: Harry Potter is the core of their lives.

THIS is an excellent post - (my reblog in case it's taken down) That is one compelling way Sirius and Severus could make a connection and have a civil conversation.

Sirius seeing Snape in Harry's trauma/abuse surviving behaviour. Sirius has so much time to introspect, to get drunk and remember the past... now that he sees how similar Harry is to how Severus was, the fact he bullied him hurts. It's like he has bullied Harry.

Sirius is an honorable man. When he see's he has done wrong, he will bow his head and apologize... ...However, Severus isn't the type to take an apology without snark. "A little late, isn't it Black? It really took you 20 years to even consider me human?"Snape would deny having much in common with Harry. It's mostly denial ('Potter is a brat like his father') with some embarrassment, too. Snape being a prick about it would set Sirius off, of course. "Oh you can NEVER just take a good thing, can you Snivellius..." They would fight again... but I think, as Order meetings continue: - Sirius will be nicer to Severus. He has lost the taste for being nasty. - Severus will lose his taste for more than basic comments at Sirius' expense. Deep down he appreciates the apology - very few have ever apologized to him before. - The fact he treats him differently means even more. He has stuck to his words. Without the bite of hatred they start finding eachothers words humorous. Entertaining. A battle of wits rather than a battle of blood pressure. Severus visiting has gone from a test of patience to something Sirius gets excited about! It gets so boring and lonely... everyone is always so down-beat because of the war, so stressed... nobody anyone wants to BANTER. And-! Severus can tell him how Harry is doing!!!

The change in their dynamic is immediately felt by others... ...but nobody knows what to make of it. All they know is that sparks aren't flying anymore - from their tempers or their wands. They're smiling more. - Big toothy grin's from Sirius, licking his teeth and flicking his eyebrows as he thinks of something else clever to say. - Small curling smirks from Severus, leaning against the table as he shoots back some biting remark.

Snape often needs to thunder off somewhere. Things are only getting harder. The quiet, cold walls of Grimmauld Place and Sirius' eagerness to listen to anything, even complaints... it's soothing. Sirius knows so many of his secrets already. He can really let loose - and Sirius can take all of it. The anger, the sorrow, the frustration, the regrets... he finds it 'entertaining' - and always manages to bring his mood back up.

The kids don't really notice, they aren't that emotionally aware yet... ...But Harry notices when Sirius tells him off for being irresponsible in one of Snape's lessons.

"...How did you know that?!" "Severus always complains about you - but this time he was right: That WAS needlessly irresponsible. Potion making can be very dangerous." Harry completely ignored the scolding. "You and Snape... talk!?" Sirius blinks, looking a little confused. Did he and Severus... 'talk'? "...He IS a member of the Order, Harry..." Sirius chuckled, but knew his godson had a point: It was very odd that he had been spending more time with Severus... and that Severus was spending more time over.

...Severus was someone Sirius could talk to about anything. Even the horrors of Azkaban. He's seen equal or worse. Few people can keep him on his toes as much as Severus, and those that can... are rarely in the mood. But when he is trading words with Snape his brain feels like its coming back to him. It reminds him of talking to James sometimes... Was Severus always this endearing sarcastic...? Was he always this intelligent...? Was he always this quick-witted...? The boy in his memory is one that spat out curses (magical and mundane) like spitting watermelon seeds... but maybe he just wasn't really listening? He wasn't seeing him for who he was, all this time?

Remus

Remus cant tell what the odd dynamic between Sirius and Severus has become - and he doesn't really care enough to ask. He doesn't spend much time thinking about Snape. He never has. Severus was abrasive and stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Their time teaching together didn't exactly make them buddies, either.

He's just happy the man rarely interacts with him. He has little to say to Severus. Now that Severus has 'done his duty' warning the world of his condition he has little to say to Remus, too. If they had their way they'd probably never speak a word to eachother ever again.

Sirius is far better company. They weren't on the best of terms during the first war... but it is nice having an old face back in his life. Someone he knows he doesn't have to pretend with.

...SO its rather annoying when Severus gets dragged into their conversations. Sometimes he just arrives, complaining about things. Every time Sirius turns his head and starts 'playing', the conversation they were having overridden as a new shiny toy walks in. Its not even to bully him anymore! THAT he could understand: Sirius always liked riling people up, especially Severus - and these days he was desperate for any form of fun. No... this was madness. It was mutual. Severus will always pick the seat next to Sirius. They will chat and scoff and bicker, leaving Remus standing there like a houseplant. Passed up... for Snivellius. It seems ridiculous...

He doesn't want to admit that he is sore that Sirius is passing him up for a 'new friend'. He doesn't want to admit that he likes being the one shoulder Sirius can lean on. Admitting those things makes him feel selfish and petty.

Lupin has always been good at remaining civil. I don't think he would care if they formally started 'dating'... just surprised. I agree with you - I don't think his friendship is strong enough for him to put effort into becoming more than just 'civil' with Severus.

But I am torn on whether Remus will inevitably grow a little more distant as he leans more towards Tonks and the Weasleys... ...or whether he would humbly make an effort to sit down and talk to Severus, man-to-man, friend-to-boyfriend... and find all the common ground they also share with one another. (But I have more interest in Snupin - I don't want to bring that bias here, lol.)

[dapper-lil-arts]

Thoughts on rarijackdash, startrixburst, and chrysarmordance? For me, these are personally my favorite mlp ot3s

I personally hc that Rainbow Dash actually does enjoy dressing up(a la g3 Rainbow Dash, but only occasionally), so other than modeling(cuz she doesn't like sitting still) she actually enjoys Rarity's work(besides, both AJ and RD are like the heroes in Rarity's tropey adventure romance books, with one being strong and brave, and the other being swift and cunning), and there's just something about Rainbow and Applejack's constant competitiveness

I could NEVER break up startrix, and for starburst I really enjoy the childhood friends dynamic. I've actually consumed more mlp fan content than the actual show or comics, so I don't know much about Trixie and Sunburst's dynamic, so they might be better as queer-platonic, but I do enjoy the hc of them both being trans(Trixie being transfem and Sunburst being transmasc)

I think it would be sweet if two beings of love were wives, but it would funny if they were also the wives of Just Some Guy(TM)

Ohhh very very interesting, okay lemme give my thoughts cause this is a good ask

rarijackdash - This one is pretty funny, because i see exactly what you find appealing about it, its like a love triangle that ends in a polycule n stuff. Rarity keeping the competition going because she likes both of them and loves them fighting for her affection is very cute; but i have never even concidered this one, because there is no world in my mind in which between AJ and RD competing for someone's romantic affections (specialy rarity) that applejack wouldn't win by a landslide everytime, lmao. I'm sorry to rainbow dash fans but the girl is tragicaly self centered and nigh charmless; but i definitely see the potential on what you mean! (also ive recently discovered that Rainbow had closer to rarity's personality on g3 which is very fun) Though hey, i see the potential you mean! its a cute trio. (rarijack has made me mentally ill though i love it too much. 20 pages in to writing a shrek1 but its rarijack fic and i'm not stopping) Okay now the case with startrixburst is an peculiar one, because although sunburst is def one of the best male characters in the show, thats also an incredibly low bar, so i never really thought of it; i do find it funny for a failpolycule of unicorns centered around the biggest failgirl of all time, starlight tho. Worth stating i never paid much mind to the childhood friends backstory because it pissed me off that starlights backstory is "i was traumatized bc i was inconvenienced as a kid and now i'll make it everyones problem" its hard to salvage a character after such a weak ass backstory. But hey, it does seem to come naturaly to make this polycule trio, i aint got nothin against it! (lord knows the startrix dynamic is impecable though) Okay in the case of chrysarmordance, this might be my favorite of all three because like. i thought of how bland shining and cadance's relationship was on the show, then i thought of how simple Cadance and chrysalis would be, but if you stick her boy in the middle; suddenly something really fucking funny happens. Whether its two beings of love arguing over 1 white boy, or if its Shining getting cucked by a bug monster, the entire thing becomes fucking hilarious, with such a potential for hilarious jokes. Alright imma do something i normaly wouldnt do and show some disjointed notes of a multiverse story i'm writing because it's pertinent to this ship and also fucking hilarious.

[parmahamlarrie]

Happy June! Happy pride! I read like crazy this month, so please enjoy one of the longest lists we’ve had in a while! x

sunshine, baby! || @harruandlou || 106.5k Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Friends with Benefits, College AU, Florida, Swimmer Harry, Law Student Louis, Olympics Started this to get excited for the upcoming Olympics, fell utterly in love with the masterful fic here! Truly incredible, you have to go read it right now.

The Cottage || @holdingontochaos || 70.6k Omegaverse, Strangers to Lovers, Small Towns, Artist Louis, Farmer Harry, Sick Louis, Touch Deprivation, Neighbours, Soulmate AU This one is one that will really stick with me for a while! As someone who deals with chronic illness, this really allowed a light into understanding it without any of the further stress, since this world is made up. Loved it!

where we landed || @blueskiesrry || 70.4k Exes to Lovers, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Hometowns, Teacher Louis, Kidfic, Cancer, Past Mpreg I quite literally started reading this at 11pm (rookie mistake) and didn't manage to sleep until 3am. I truly could not put it down, it's a truly compelling read!

you were in my dream || @harruandlou || 59.3k Baker Harry, Builder Louis, Fluff, Best Friend's Boyfriend's Best Friend I don't think I have enough words for how much I loved this one. Easily one of the best, nothing I would change about it. More proof that fanfic is in and of itself an act of love and the fact that we get works like this? For free? It makes me cry. I love their love and I'd love in their world forever.

Sugar, Sugar || @parmahamlarrie || 25k Sugar Baby Harry, Sugar Daddy Louis, Soulmate AU, Age Difference

Peeping || @jacaranda-bloom || 16.5k Strangers to Lovers, Housemates, New Years Eve, Oblivious Idiots, Wanker's Day Dee has a way of writing exactly what I need when I need it! She has been so missed, so give this a read and send some love! x

The Checkout || @silverstuff50 || 12.2k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Awkward Flirting, Fluff

you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) || @suckerforhome || 11.7k Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Dynamics, Famous/Non Famous, Musician Harry, Make Up Artist Louis, Exes to Lovers (ish)

Where Do We Go Now || @jaerie || 10.6k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, College Au, Roommates to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Human World I had never considered Alphas having sex with humans and this has really made me think about it! Very well done, of course, and a great little story.

Half a World Away || @silverstuff50 || 9.8k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Enemies/Friends to Lovers, Heat, Hiking

Undo This Privacy || little_obelia || 9.5k Girl Direction, Established Relationship, Watersports, Fluff

vitamin || cabinbythesea || 6.5k Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff and Smut

Take My Hand, Dumbass || @londonfoginacup || 5.9k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Roommates AU, College AU, Enemies to Lovers This became a new favourite of mine from @londonfoginacup! The humour was great, tension fantastic, and the ending was just fun!

Body Stay Vicious || @letthemusicmoveyou28 || 5.3k Strangers to Lovers, Meet-Cute, Gym AU, Light D/S, Wanker's Day

In an octopus's garden with you || louisismycat || 4.6k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Autistic Harry, Fluff & Comfort This was one of the best reads I've read in ages. A great reminder that love exists.

Louis and the no good, very bad day || @haztobegood || 4.5k Soulmate AU, Crack, Oblivious Idiots, Wanker's Day This was SO good! I love being able to read soulmate sillies!

U-Pop Truck Stop || @kingsofeverything || 4.1k American AU, Truckers, Shower Sex, Poppers

Wordplay 2023: there his charming nest doth lay || @bottomhaztoplou || 3.8k Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Nesting, Domestic Fluff

Come On and Rescue Me || @kingsofeverything || 3.3k Neighbours, Older Louis, Age Difference, Instagram, Wanker's Day

Slippery When Wet || @uhoh-but-yeah-alright || 3.4k Girl Direction, Zourry Roommates, Wanker's Day This one is so iconic, I'm obsessed.

(on the edge until) you pull me in || @zjofierose || 3.1k Famous/Non Famous, Age Difference, Single Dad Louis, Wanker's Day

I'll Still Feel the Same Around You || @crinkle-eyed-boo || 2.4k Married H&L, Older H&L, Insomnia, Wanker's Day

Irrumabo || @londonfoginacup || 2.2k Plane Ride, Sex Pollen, Established Relationship, Wanker's Day

You've Got A Friend In Me || @red-pandaaa || 2.1k Established Relationship, Phone Sex, D/S, Wanker's Day

I taste your sugar, you swallow my salt || @bottomhaztoplou || 1.4k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Intersex Omegas, Heat/Rut, Historical, Wanker's Day

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 11 – A/B/O

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: AvengersNewB

When I'm in the mood for some really great A/B/O dynamics, I always turn to Ven. She really has a gift when it comes to turning tropes on their heads and making them her own. And I love, love, LOVE the way she writes omega Tony in particular. She's incredible, and her fics deserve all the love in the world.

Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:

Must Be True

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,793 Tags: Lingerie, Praise Kink, Protective Steve

Summary: When the stakes are too high, Tiberius Stone offers his omega, Tony, as a little side incentive to close important business deals. Tonight’s business is an arms deal with the Avengers, and the alpha they’re meeting is Captain America.

Reasons why I love it: Ugh, Tiberius is such a piece of shit. Ven really captures that essence here. And oh my god, poor Tony, but at least he makes the best out of a horrible situation. I'd read a million more words in this universe, and I really hope you give it a shot too, because it's awesome!

Braid

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 2,378 Tags: Vikings, Arranged Marriage, Sharing a Bed

Summary: Viking Arranged Marriage AU - Young omega Tony is traded to the Vikings by Stane, for safe passage and gets married to alpha Steve Rogers the captain of the chiefly vessel.

Reasons why I love it: This one is so goddamned sweet, it almost makes me want to cry. I never knew I needed to read about Tony braiding Steve's hair, but I did, and Ven made the perfect version of it. The whole setting is amazing, and Tony's insecurities and doubts feel so real, it's like they're jumping out from the screen. I love this one more than I can say, so please go and experience it for yourself!

Never Enough

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,639 Tags: Insecure Steve, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Mpreg

Summary: "Tony, what I'm trying to say... I think you should have a baby even though I apparently can't have one. At least in the near future. I think...I think…" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath." I think you should get bonded again"

Reasons why I love it: It's honestly refreshing to see a fic where Steve is the one who is completely insecure in their relationship. Their emotions read very true to their characters, and I love how Tony is so quick to reassure Steve that all his doubts are unfounded. Plus, the ending is so sweet it makes me want to scream into a pillow. This fic is amazing, so go ahead and read it!

Restless Gravity

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 10,929 Tags: Warlord Steve, Temporary Amnesia, Cyborgs

Summary: Omega Tony Stark gets bonded to a human-hating space warlord, to get his people a new home after the destruction of their planet. Warlord - Arranged marriage AU, with a bit of a twist.

Reasons why I love it: This fic has it all. Amazing worldbuilding, a great plot twist, identity porn, incredible characterization and wonderful dialogue. I love this one to pieces, and I hope you go and read it, because it deserves all the love in the world.

Love of Inconvenience

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,856 Tags: Marriage of Convenience, Immigration, Mutual Pining

Summary: Tony had a plan; bond with Steve to keep him from deportation until he could find Steve's childhood friend Mr. Barnes. Temporary. For convenience. The plan did not entail falling for this perfect beautiful omega.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, this fic just makes me want to grab them and smash their faces together. It's so good! The way they finally get together in the end is so satisfying, and the journey there kept me hooked the whole time. I love this fic so much, please go and give it some love!

[soup-of-the-daisies]

staghunter (orion/harry) enthusiast here who hates every single fic for them because the meta sucks or is plotless in general but I didn't know how to elaborate on it until I saw your post on how their dynamic, at it's best, would probably be literally just prongsfoot and it busted my third eye wide open. best friends who are soooo incredibly intimate physically and emotionally that you could call them lovers but really, even that label is inadequate. they would wear each other every day if they could type of friendship. faces so close they make other people uncomfortable, but also the energy in the room would feel weird if they weren't on each other's laps 24/7.

anyway, my two cents— for prongsfoot, i do agree that james as an only child would be more possessive, marking sirius liberally through action such as biting, sitting close, etc., the clingiest limpet in any universe... girl!james would absolutely be the girl best friend who would get so much hate from sirius' partners bc she acts like that. lesbian prongsfoot who need to provide heirs for their family would definitely put their husbands through it (if they could invent magical IVF to cut the middleman entirely they would)

while for staghunter it would definitely be orion, since harry has had the experience/memory of ron & hermione's friendship... he'd be a bit more repressed with his emotions as a posh bloke in post-ww2 britain, so he'd mark his territory thru official documentation. photos, paintings, a building donated in their honor, a name change, blood pacts published in the paper, soul bonds duly registered, another bonding ritual that may be slightly illegal but visible to anyone in the know, and so on. I like to think that orion would be a product of their time regardless of gender so skinship isn't as big, but then they don't need to be, as harry gets and appreciates the big grand gestures

(in any universe though, slash, genderbent, or otherwise, if harry and ron are alive together in any timeline they'd be the codependent ones im so serious that matters to me)

Hello anon. I love you.

I agree with you on all points. There’s a reason why I’m incredibly fond of Prongsfoot, Ronarry, and Harmione: codependent best friends to lovers where nothing really has to change, they just kiss (more), and in the case of Ronarry and Harmione Harry becomes a bit more physically affectionate… yeah. I also love it when Harry’s James-genes pop out in Ronarry and Harmione and he does ridiculous things to prove his love and adoration (I’ve seen one fic where that happened, for Harmione), because Harry would, you know? He’d give them the moon if he could.

And yes, Orion would be the James in the Staghunter (I actually associate that one more with Orion/James, but I can’t think of another one on the fly so I’ll go with Staghunter for Orion/Harry here), but then more of a product of his time and childhood. It’s the mutual kind of adoration you also see in Prongsfoot. Fancy robes, jewellery, but also ‘official’ means like (as you said) documentation, announcements, blood-pacts… they’re in each other’s pockets at school, absolutely obsessed with one another.

I like the way the Orion&Harry bromance is characterised in wear me like a locket around your throat, though Orion is a bit too… sweet? I suppose? For my tastes. He’s quite the bean in that one, even though he does get a lot of depth (and the fic hints at as to why he became a horrible father), but the codependency and mutual love between him and Harry is so lovely. It’s other/better half to the max. I have my favourites (for het Staghunter, Future’s Past is a good one; it’s AU enough for the characterisations to be believable) and there are ones that feel Too Much and Wrong, but that’s what you get with a rarepair I think. I also need good/fun Tom Riddle characterisation if he’s present, so that also makes me pickier.

So yeah ♥️♥️ Thank you sm for your ask, I love talking about them. They’re not popular enough I swear (even in the bromance way), despite the fics often being quite popular.