#to which i responded ‘you never asked’ and then he said ‘our third wheel’ and i said ‘yes this is my job professionally’

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

ughhhhh

ok i need to get over this fast so maybe if i put it into the world it will go away

[alisonsfics]

old college flame

pairing: tony dinozzo x ex-girlfriend!reader

summary: you and tony had dated in college. you were the only serious girlfriend he ever had. after going your separate ways, you got a job working at the FBI, which means you hadn’t seen tony since. until NCIS and the FBI have to collaborate on a case.

word count: 2.3k

“Agent Fornell, is NCIS aware that we are assisting them on this case? You’ve told me how Agent Gibbs doesn’t like other agencies to step on his toes.” You asked your boss.

You both were currently in the elevator, riding up to the NCIS squad room. You had never worked with NCIS in all your years at the agency, and you wanted to know what to expect.

“Yes, Agent Gibbs invited us on to this case.” He informed you.

The elevator doors dinged, and you both stepped out. You followed after Fornell, since he knew his way around NCIS headquarters. “Agent Gibbs, pleasure to work with you again.” Your boss said, walking into a room with four desks.

Gibbs stood up and shook Fornell’s hand. “You must be Agent L/N. Tobias told be about you. You’ve been at the FBI for six years now?” He asked. You nodded, politely, and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.” You said, simply.

Gibbs gestured behind you. “That’s Special Agent McGee, and this is Ziva David.” He explained. They both came over and shook your hand.

“I read your paper about using satellite images during investigations. I thought it was really interesting.” You told McGee. He was flattered. “I’m actually working on that now trying to analyze images around our crime scene. I can show you, if you like. I could use a second opinion.” He offered.

You quickly nodded and agreed. “Here, let me borrow my colleague’s chair. He won’t mind, he has a thing for beautiful women.” McGee said, wheeling the chair from the empty desk over to his own desk.

You took a seat, and he showed you the screen. “I’ve been looking at this radius between the two crimes because we think the suspect lives in the area.” He explained, pointing at the circles on the map.

“We have an unsolved case from a few years ago that I think might be related.” You said, pulling the file out of your bag and showing it to him.

“It matches the other two crimes, and it took place right around here.” You said, gesturing towards the map.

McGee glanced over the file before typing in the third location. “That narrows our search area down by a lot.” He said, glancing over at Gibbs.

“Up on the screen, McGee,” Gibbs said, gesturing at the tv. From behind you, you heard the elevator doors ding.

“Probie, where’s my chair?” You heard a loud voice ask. The voice sounded familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why.

You turned around to see who was talking. “It’s being borrowed by Agent—” McGee started to say, as you turned around and made eye contact with Tony.

“Y/N,” Tony said, almost at a whisper. He was standing completely still, just staring. You were also frozen in your seat.

“You two know each other?” Gibbs asked, curious as to why you both were just staring at each other.

“College,” you both said at the same time.

You and Tony had dated for two years in college. He was your first real love, and you were his. You broke up because you were moving to different cities. You both preferred having a mutual breakup instead of your relationship deteriorating from doing long distance and ending with a messy breakup.

Gibbs and Fornell both snapped to get you both out of your trances.

“McGee, you and Agent L/N go work with Abby on this map. Tony and Ziva start looking into the cold case.” Gibbs delegated.

You stood up from your seat and walked over to Tony. “Hi,” you said, giving him a soft smile. You handed him the file, and he returned the smile. “It’s nice to see you,” he responded, left just as speechless as you were.

“Right this way,” McGee said, showing you to the elevator. You followed after him, looking back over your shoulder and making eye contact with Tony.

You and McGee stepped into the elevator. “So, you know Tony?” McGee asked you. You nodded your head. “Yeah, you could say that. Or at least I used to,” you told him.

“You two haven’t seen each other since college?” McGee asked, curiously. He had never seen Tony as shaken up as he was when he saw you.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, as though you didn’t specifically remember the last time you saw Tony.

It was when you brought Tony to the airport. He was leaving for DC. You both knew it’d be the last time you saw each other. It was the only time you’d seen Tony cry. You had a Hallmark-movie emotional kiss.

And you hadn’t seen him since.

You and McGee stepped out of the elevator and walked down a hallway. You both walked into Abby’s lab. Then, you noticed Abby.

She was typing on her computer, facing away from you both. “Hi, Abby.” McGee said as you both entered the room.

“McGee, did you hear? Ziva called me. Something about Tony acting weird around some girl. I was thinking secret ex-girlfriend, but that doesn’t really feel like Tony—” Abby started rambling, before McGee interrupted.

“Abby,” McGee said, loudly. He gave you a look of sympathy. Abby turned around, and her eyes went wide.

“Abby, meet Agent L/N from the FBI,” McGee introduced you.

Abby had a terrified look in her eyes. “See, you might think I was talking about you, but I was actually talking about someone else.” She lied, trying to smooth things over.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it,” you assured her. She looked relieved. The three of you discussed the map for a few minutes, and then McGee got a phone call.

“Boss wants me upstairs,” He said, leaving the lab.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” Abby apologized again. You gave her a polite smile. “You really don’t have to worry about it. Also, I thought you’d want to know that you were right.” You told her.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and you could tell from her expression that she was confused. “Wait, about what?” She asked you.

“Tony,” you said, simply.

She still looked confused for another minute, and then her eyes lit up. “You’re Tony’s ex-girlfriend? You two actually dated?” Abby asked, excitedly.

You could tell how shocked she was. She ran and grabbed two chairs for you both to sit on. You took a seat, giggling at her excitement.

“So, Tony actually had a girlfriend? Like a serious girlfriend?” She asked you. You nodded your head. “Two years serious,” you replied.

Abby was shocked. She’d never heard Tony talk about a girlfriend. There wasn’t even many girls that he took on second dates. He didn’t even try to seriously date anyone after you.

What you both had was special. Tony knew he’d never be able to replicate that, so he didn’t see a point in trying. That is what led to the long string of one night stands.

Abby’s expression shifted when she saw your disappointment. She was excited to learn Tony had a girlfriend, but reminiscing about your relationship just gave you regrets.

“When you said having a secret ex-girlfriend didn’t sound like Tony, what did you mean?” You asked Abby, curiously. She didn’t know what to say.

“Obviously, I didn’t know Tony in college, but now, I’ve haven’t seen him date anyone serious. It’s a lot of first dates that don’t go anywhere. What you both had must have been really special.” She said, giving you a soft smile.

You sighed, thinking back to your relationship. It was special. You both had the perfect fit, until you didn’t.

“I should probably get back upstairs. I wouldn’t say Fornell is the most patient boss.” You said, standing up from your seat. Abby giggled to herself. “Sounds like Gibbs,” she joked.

“What sounds like Gibbs?” You heard Gibbs as he walked into the room.

“I’m gonna head back upstairs.” You said, quickly walking out of the room. You waited for the elevator. When it dinged, you went to step inside.

You bumped straight into Tony, who was trying to get out of the elevator. You both froze. “Hi, again,” you said, softly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, scooting to the side to let you get in the elevator.

“I was just getting out.” He said, stepping into the hallway. You watched him as the doors started to close, when he quickly hopped inside the elevator.

He quickly flipped the off switch, turning the lights darker and bringing the elevator to a halt.

“Sorry, I just really needed to talk to you.” He said, turning to face you. You smiled at him, knowing exactly how he felt.

“So you’re working with the FBI now?” He asked, not knowing how to start this conversation. You nodded, giving him an awkward smile.

“Have you, y’know, been doing good?” You asked. Even after all these years, you still cared about him. “Yeah, I’m doing better. What about you? You ever get married?” He asked, remembering how you had talked about your perfect wedding.

You let out half of a laugh. “Nope, not married. Not even close,” you said, honestly. He nodded along, and you knew he felt the same way.

“Trouble finding the right guy?” He asked. He knew he sounded jealous, but you were his first love.

“Nope, I had the right guy. Just the wrong time,” you said, taking a step closer to him. He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. We tried to stop things from ending messily, but I don’t think it mattered. Having to say goodbye to the person you love the most is always messy.” He said, slowly grabbing one of your hands.

He was nervous, waiting for your permission. You gave him a smile and interlaced your fingers with his.

“You never did anything wrong, Tony. You were perfect. I know we both have regrets about everything, at least I do.” You told him, honestly.

He could hear your hurt in your voice. He wished there was a way to go back and undo all the pain you both had been through.

“Trust me, you are not the only one with regrets. I am always wondering what would have happened if I fought harder for us. Maybe we would have survived long distance, or maybe I should’ve just taken the jump and moved to be with you.” He rambled.

He had never told anyone any of this. He felt so relieved to get it off his chest. “I guess we’ll never know.” You said. You were realizing for the first time that you both were living in the same city now.

Tony went to say something, but stopped himself. “Actually, nevermind. That’s stupid,” he said, dropping your hand and backing up from you. He leaned against the elevator railing, worrying he’d just messed everything up.

He went to flip the on switch, but you grabbed his hand, stopping him. “It’s not stupid. What were you going to say?” You asked him.

He took a deep breath, knowing he could blow everything up with what he was about to say.

“I was just going to say that I never stopped loving you.” He confessed, looking into your eyes with a look that made you melt.

You cupped his face and kissed him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. He spun you around, so your back was pressed up against the wall.

Your hands found their way back into his hair, like they had so many times before. It all still felt natural. He pulled you closer to him. He had missed you for years, and now he felt like he couldn’t breath without you.

He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, causing you to smirk. “God, I have missed you so much,” Tony whispered, pulling out of the kiss.

“Are we giving us a second chance?” You asked him. A giant smile spread on his face. “I have dreamed about having a second chance with you for years.” He said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

Suddenly, Tony’s phone started ringing.

“Yeah, Abby, what’s up?” He asked. You heard Abby cheering loudly on the other side. Tony flinched, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“You got the girl back! You both are so cute together.” You heard her say, causing Tony’s cheeks to turn pink.

“Wait a minute. Abby are you spying through the security camera?” He asked, turning to face the camera. You heard the phone beep as she hung up.

You giggled to yourself. “Sounds like Abby is a fan.” You joked. He nodded, knowing what you said was an understatement. “She didn’t know it was you but she always knew I was hung up on someone.” He said, pulling you into a hug.

“We should probably get back before Gibbs and Fornell get suspicious.” You mumbled, into his shirt. You both pulled out of the hug, and he flipped the on switch.

You walked back into the squad room. You both were anticipating that Abby would have told the rest of the team already, but no one seemed to react.

“Boss is on his way up, he wants to talk theories.” McGee informed you both. You both nodded.

Tony grabbed your hand, which caught McGee and Ziva’s attention. They gave each other a quick look from across the room. They were both wondering what was happening.

Tony pulled his chair out for you, letting you sit down. Then, he leaned against the side of his desk.

“So?” McGee asked, looking at Tony.

Tony chuckled at his colleagues’ intrigue and curiosity.

“You may be seeing much more of Agent L/N” Tony said, causing both McGee and Ziva to smile. “We’re happy for you both,” Ziva said, smiling.

McGee walked over to you. “You’ll be needing this. I’m going to need to hear all about how Tony was in college.” McGee said, handing you his card with his phone number.

“We should all get drinks tonight. I’m sure you have lots of stories about Tony.” Ziva suggested. Tony knew he was going to be in for a long night.

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[oddballwriter]

A Date at the Diner

Summary: A blurb in which you and Mike go out on a date where it's actually just the two of you, but come to find out, you prefer the old version more. 

Warnings: Just a blurb were you and Mike are on a date and giving each other witty banter. It does get the slightest bit implicate-y but that's it. Just banter.  

Author’s Snip: Saw the FNAF movie and we be simping for Mike. Am I surprised? No. It was foretold in our tea leaves. This was written in stone, and so was William.

Notes: This has no actual ties to the movie or reference to it at all other than one niche one that's literally just a cameo.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 306

"Did we really have to go out?" you tease as you look across the table at Mike as you both sit down at a booth table in a small diner. Mike looks up at you a bit confused before shrugging. "I thought it would be nice to actually have a night where it was just the two of us." he said.

"No sitting on the couch watching rented movies with Abby here half the time till I shoo her off to bed," Mike explained glancing at you with a soft gaze, "Just..." he muttered before holding your hand from across the table "You and me." he concluded more confidently.

You smile and laugh a little, "Well what if I like those date nights where we have our little third-wheel. If I'm honest, her movie taste isn't too half-bad. I'm okay with watching Never Ending Story and Princess Bride till she gets tired and we can watch more stuff catering to us." you remark. "What's wrong with here?" Mike asks prompting you both to look around.

You grimace a bit at the faded colors of the diner, looking like it's past it's golden times by a little, and shrug. "Nothing," you respond, "I just like the homey feel that our rent-a-movie dates have better." you say as you glance back at Mike for a bit holding his hand a bit tighter. "I like it anywhere you are." you flirt.

"Even if there's a risk of Abby catching us sucking face." you joke with a wink. "Well then," Mike says in response, "Maybe we can suck face in peace later on toni-"Mike attempts as a joke of his own but gets cut off by a waiter handing the menu to the two of you and talking about one of the dishes like he's being paid per word.

[ajvocals43]

Heyy, I was wonderings if your requests are open? Would you be interested in writing a Dean x Reader where Sam goes on one of his first dates with Eileen, and he's very nervous; so he asks Dean and Reader to come along with them, maybe add the sentence "It's not a double date. We're just third and fourth wheeling."

Hope you enjoy it.

Love C.

They absolutely are! (even if I only get to respond to them like once a month) I love this idea! Hope this fits that.

Not a Date

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2577

Warnings: poorly connected writing, slight swearing, depictions of blood and gore (if you squint)

A/n: This is sort of a Franken-fic because the beginning of this I wrote forever ago and now got to finish. I've been writing this whenever I had time over the last week so that's why it might feel disjointed but that's how things go sometimes. Also, I love this idea so much and I'm debating a part two.

“Your arm is bleeding.” Dean commented, as we left the abandoned farm in the middle of nowhere. The sun was just barely coming over the horizon, lighting up the surrounding area and revealing how bad my arm truly looked. 

“Oh really? I hadn't noticed that half of my goddamned blood was flowing out of my arm, but thanks for letting me know.” We had just finished with a wendigo hunt and we were both exhausted and dirty. We were both going on 48 hours of no sleep and I didn't know about him but I was about dead on my feet. And on top of that I was bleeding. A lot. Sam was back at the bunker, panicking about his upcoming date with Eileen. The hunt was last minute and small so Dean and I figured we would handle it ourselves as long as I promised Sam we’d be back in time. It was his first real date with her and he was so nervous, it was adorable. I had helped him plan his date down to the last detail. He’d decided on a silent movie marathon at a park in the next town over (even though he’d seen like half of them already). Dean had of course laughed at his brother’s “corniness” but I had to admit that his idea was pretty cute. I had promised Sam that I would be back in time to help him set up his picnic and calm him down before Eileen got there but this hunt had taken more time than we’d expected. And now I was also beaten up and covered in blood. I hadn't gotten captured but I had gotten a pretty nasty gash in my arm from being knocked into some old equipment that I should’ve seen but hadn't. 

“Damn, you’re mean when you're tired.” Dean said as we came up to the car. Rather than respond, I moved to punch him. He dogged as he always did but this time he grabbed the arm that I had extended and pulled me into him. My breath caught at the move especially since usually we tended to keep our distance. Granted, that never seemed to stop the weird charge the air had every time we were in a room together. It was some weirdly strong chemistry that we seemed to have, even though we were completely wrong for each other. He annoyed the hell out of me and I'm sure I did the same for him. Sam had tried to tell me once that it was because we were in love with each other but that was completely ridiculous. We were friends, sure, but we fought constantly. That didn't mean that I wasn't attracted to him though. I mean… how could you not be? He was gorgeous. Strong jaw, tan, freckled skin, candy apple green eyes… What was I saying? Never mind. Like I said, we are totally wrong for each other. Plus I had just gotten out of a relationship (which of course didn't work out because of my feelings for the elder Winchester). And because I didn't want to focus on my failed love life, I focused on the pain, trying to figure out where it was coming from. 

Dean hooked my good arm around his neck and pulled the other up to inspect the damage that seemed to span the whole arm. But that could also be the flow of blood down my arm. The cut didn't feel that big but it was also hard to tell around the rest of the dirt and grime on me. “I'll need to clean this to get a better look at it but for now, here.” He said and started to pull his flannel off. “You need to keep pressure on it until we can get back and I can stitch you up.” I couldn't help but stare at the muscles flexing in his arms as he tied the shirt around the cut. That was until he pulled it tight so it kept pressure. I sucked in a breath and his gaze met mine as my eyes continued up his chest to his eyes. I felt my face heat as he caught me staring but I refused to admit that he got to me in any way. “How's that?” he asked softly. One of his hands dropped to the small of my back to keep me in place while his other turned mine over to check for more damage. 

“Tight,” I said.

“Smartass.” He shot back smiling. It was contagious so of course I followed suit. We were closer than I could remember being in a very long time. I could feel exactly where his hand was on my back holding me to him. Like this weight that was trapping me close to him. But it made me feel safe. 

Realizing that that was a little too close to something I refused to name anymore, I started to pull away. The moment I did though, his hold seemed to tighten. It sent a zing of awareness and excitement through me. I hadn't thought that was possible outside of sappy rom-coms and novels, but I felt it now with Dean. He looked like he was going to say something else but after another moment, he let go. I felt the sting of disappointment run through me but shut it down as soon as it came up. He couldn't know how I felt about him, it would ruin everything. He meant too much to me, they both did. They were all I had left. Dean and I’s relationship being ruined would mean me losing everything I knew. 

So I pulled away, turning to finish unloading my weapons in the trunk. “You’re still going to need stitches when we get back to the motel.” Dean said, walking around to the driver’s side. 

“Ya think?” I asked, sarcastically. His only response was to shake his head and start the car. “Just hurry up so that we can get back to Sam. I promised.” 

 Dean muttered something about me babying his little brother but started the drive back to the motel. 

__________

We made it back to the bunker by late afternoon. My arm hurt like a son of a bitch and I could barely keep my eyes open but I was alive. As soon as I had walked in the door, Sam started bombarding me with questions, most of which were checking what I’d talked to him about on the phone on the way over. Dean surprised me by saving me, making Sam doubt the picnic he’d pack and letting me slip out to get a shower. I thought about it while I was washing myself off under the hot spray. Usually it was a race for who got the first shower and therefore the most hot water, but he didn't even try to fight me for it. As soon as Sam started asking me questions Dean jumped in and steered me towards the door to the hall. I couldn't figure out why since normally we’re the types to push the other in front to deal with the other person while we escape. Not while hunting of course, we cared for each other deeply, the way only those who were connected for a long time did; however, when we were at home, we tended to bicker and act like children. I was the only one who couldn't get it through their thick head that our flirting and bickering was only on a platonic level. There was nothing more to it and there never would be. There was too much at stake. I just needed to get over the stupid feelings I had for him and we could just go back to being our weird makeshift family. 

Once I was clean and my muscles slightly relaxed after a hot shower, I was still exhausted but I felt more ready to take on Sam’s Anxiety. When I walked back into the kitchen Dean seemed about ready to punch his brother in the face. 

 “Who cares? It’s a silent movie. No one is going to be paying attention anyway. The only people that go to silent movies-”

 “How's the food going Sam?” I asked loud enough (hopefully) to cover Dean’s complaining. “It looks like you have quite the spread there.” 

 “Yeah… I can’t seem to decide.” He looked down at all the food that was spread across the island. “I'm sorry, I don't know what’s wrong with me.” 

 I went up to him as I told him, “Don't apologize, Sam. It's sweet. It means you like her.” 

 “I just… I really want this night to go well.” 

 “I know.” I placed my hand on his arm (mainly because I couldn't reach his shoulder without looking awkward) to try and instill some comfort in him. “And for what it’s worth, she likes you too. Right Dean?” I called back. 

 “Yeah, sure.” Dean asked, but he sounded distant. I turned to look at him and saw him looking through the food in the pantry. I shook my head in bemusement (though not that I'd tell him that). “Even if you're being a major dork.” 

Annnnd there it was. I rolled my eyes before I patted Sam on the arm and went to start putting the cold items back in the fridge before they spoiled. 

 “Y/n?” Sam called suddenly. 

 “Yeah?” I asked. 

 “I hate to ask but… there's so much pressure on this and I'd really feel better… if you came with me?” he asked. I was going to refuse but then he added the stupid puppy dog eyes and added “Dean could come too, you guys are friends, it would be like a double date. Please?” 

 I really wanted to say no… but instead what came out of my mouth was “Fine.” he signed with relief before I added “Youre lucky youre basically a little brother to me. AND this isn't a double date. We’re just…third and fourth wheeling. Right?” I aimed towards Dean. 

“Right.” Dean immediately agreed. “Not a date. Definitely NOT a date.” 

 I wasn't going to comment on how my heart dropped a little at his vigorous agreement. I mean… I definitely didn't want to date him but couldn't he be at least a little upset?

 I really needed a boyfriend. I had to stop focusing on Dean and every reaction I had to him. It wasn't going anywhere no matter how much I (or Sam) wanted it to. And with that, I went to find something to wear to our double date. This would be interesting. 

__________

It wasn't interesting in the slightest. Eileen had come by the bunker and Sam was a perfect gentleman. Dean drove us to the park where even though it was getting dark out, it wasn't too chilly. We set up two different blankets, one for the couple and one for the 3rd and 4th wheels and we waited for the movies to start. 

 Sometime around the second movie, Dean and I fell asleep. I have no idea how long it went for or how long we were out, all I remember is waking up to Sam shoving me against my personal heater, irritating the (stitched) gash on my arm, and telling me that they were kicking us out. And then had the shit scared out of me when that heater groaned underneath me at the jostling and tightened its arms around me in an attempt to keep me close and stay asleep. In a moment we both seemed to realize where we were and jumped apart. The cold air chilled my skin and the breeze made me shiver even through my jacket. Dean caught on quickly and handed me the blanket he must have put over us at some point before moving to stand up. He held his hand out to help me up after him. 

 That was new. 

 I took it hesitantly and he helped pull me to my feet before grabbing the blanket that had been on the ground and following Sam and Eileen who were already halfway to the car by the look of it. Only when we hit the edge of the grass did I finally realize he hadn't let go of my hand. And he didn't let go until he opened the passenger side door for me and let me crawl in before closing it behind me. Where was all of this coming from? 

The ride was quiet but my brain was anything but. I couldn't figure out why in the last 12 hours or so why he was suddenly being so… caring. No, that wasn't it. Dean was always caring, it was one of the many reasons I had this big fat crush on him. But today… it was different. From the shower to being my non date helping Sam, to wrapping me in a blanket, even opening the door for me. I was confused to say the least. 

 When we finally returned to the bunker, Sam and Eileen headed down the hall enraptured in some conversation I hadn’t followed. They were cute. I felt bad but I wished that I had that kind of easy relationship with someone. They just seemed to fit so well together and there wasn't any confusion about where they stood with the other. It all just seemed so simple. 

 “I can see the gears turning.” Dean called from the other side of the car as we climbed out of our respective sides. “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” 

 I tried very hard to hide the blush that I could feel at being caught, “Nothing.” Nice Y/n. “I'm good, promise-” 

 “Nope, don't try to hide from me.” He came around and grabbed my arm as I started walking inside, pulling me back to him. “What’s going on?” 

 I searched his eyes for anything that would clue me in as to what was going on. All I could find in those beautiful green eyes was concern for me, which, paired with our close proximity, wasn't helping me think straight at all. 

“Tell me.” he commanded softly. 

 There was no way I was going to win this. I knew I would tell him, but I didn't expect what came out of my mouth to be, “Why are you like this?” 

 “I'm sorry…?” he chuckled slightly. 

 “Not like that.” I closed my eyes in exasperation with myself. “It just…today. Why were you so… sweet? I’m confused, I mean… the shirt and the shower and the blanket and even the freaking car door, I-” nothing because suddenly my lips were occupied with Dean’s. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me even closer as his lips continued to dance against mine. Damn. I’d heard them talk about it but they never even got close to actually describing how good a kisser he was. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before and I wanted to keep kissing him forever. 

 He pulled away softly and my lips chased him slightly. My brain was completely mush after that and barely registered his studying my face, quietly commenting “Cute.” 

 “What…?” I questioned vaguely, still not fully coherent, my eyes stuck to his lips. 

 Said lips rose into his signature smirk before he said cheekily, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” And with that, he reached around, smacked my ass, making me jump, and walked down the hall. 

 What the hell just happened?! 

Masterlist

[blu-joons]

He Gets Jealous ~ Lee Jooheon

A soft sigh came from Jooheon as he sat between you and Minhyuk as you discussed an article that Minhyuk had come to you about a sighting in Jeju. The two of you had bonded almost immediately about your love for marine life, leaving Jooheon forgotten about.

The conversation you shared didn’t interest Jooheon at all, the things you both had to say went over his head. But the one thing he could pick up on, was your laughter, the way in which Minhyuk always could make you laugh.

“What do you think about heading down to Jeju next weekend?” Jooheon suddenly found himself hearing Minhyuk question. “We could go on a boat tour or something?”

Jooheon’s head only nodded back at Minhyuk, not exactly enthusiastic about a trip. He had been on one before with the others too, and whilst they all enjoyed the view, you and Minhyuk were obsessed with the creatures that were on show.

“If you two want to go, then book it up.”

“But what about you?” You questioned, being able to read by the expression on his face that he wasn’t thrilled with Minhyuk’s suggestion. “They’ve had some really cool sightings down on the island recently, some really fascinating stuff.”

Yet again, Jooheon nodded, but the more you spoke about the trip, the less interested he became. Whilst he loved how passionate you were about marine life; it wasn’t the only thing that you shared in common with Minhyuk. The two of you almost seemed as if you were the same people by how many things you both loved and were interested by.

“You can just stay here if you don’t like the thought,” you informed him, “neither of us would mind.”

Although you were a little quicker in being able to pick up on Jooheon’s mood, it didn’t take longer before Minhyuk began to notice the disapproving hints that Jooheon was dropping too, sensing that he’d done something wrong.

“It would be a really cool trip,” Minhyuk smiled, determined to put things right, “and if there’s something you want to try whilst we’re in Jeju, then of course, we can give that a go as well, what do you think?”

“I don’t really fancy going on a trip as a third wheel,” Jooheon told you both, “at least if I go on a trip with my girlfriend, I want to be the most important one to her.”

Straight away you looked across at Minhyuk, mouthing an apology across to him. The bitterness in his voice was clear, neither of you quite knew how to react, the trip was harmless, something you thought could be fun for all of you.

“Why can’t you give it a try?” Minhyuk suggested, “we can ask the others when we get together and have dinner tonight too, see what they think?”

As his frustrations began to bubble, Jooheon chose not to speak, shaking his head instead. Both you and Minhyuk were hurt by how quick Jooheon was to shut your idea down, especially when it was one that both of you thought would be such fun.

“If we let you organise the trip then we’d just sit on the beach all week,” you replied across to Jooheon, staring across to his eyes, “at least if we went to the beach tour, or maybe even a gallery, we’d actually get to do something.”

The more you spoke, the more the trip sounded like a dream for you and Minhyuk, but a nightmare for Jooheon. The two of you just weren’t on the same page, whilst your relationship was great, your interests were a complete divide.

“At least the two of you will enjoy yourselves, right?”

Before you could respond, Jooheon pushed his chair back, excusing himself from the room and heading straight for his bedroom. Both you and Minhyuk jumped at the sound of the door, meeting each other’s eyes helplessly.

“That was unfair of him to say, I’m sorry Minhyuk.”

“Maybe we have been neglectful of what he likes, but it’s just not the same.”

“He made that quite clear,” you smiled, “I’ll go and speak to him.”

You let go of a sigh as you made your way along the corridor to Jooheon’s room. You didn’t even bother knocking as you walked in and found him laid out on his bed, scrolling through his phone and refusing to acknowledge you.

Regardless, you walked across the room and took a seat on the end of his bed. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” You asked him, only for his head to shake. “It wasn’t a question Jooheon, it was a statement.”

“Just leave it, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Tough,” you frowned, hitting your hand over the top of his feet that rested beside you. “I’m not one to jump to conclusions, but you sounded pretty jealous out there, you didn’t have to shut Minhyuk and I down quite like that.”

He knew he’d been harsh and abrasive towards the two of you, especially when you were willing to arrange a trip for him. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get behind it, everything you wanted to do were things that he didn’t.

“What’s going on?” You pushed, “you can’t convince me that it’s nothing.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, just ignore me if I’m being problematic.”

“It’s becoming problematic when you won’t talk to me,” you argued back, “is this how things are going to be between the two of us now then?”

Jooheon threw his head back as he collapsed down onto his pillow, covering his face with his hands. Your head shook as he continued to close himself off, even though you could tell exactly what was going on with him.

It was one thing realising what was going on, but it was another thing admitting it. Jooheon hated to think of himself as jealous, but when you got along so well with Minhyuk, he only wished he could enjoy the things you loved with you in the same way that Minhyuk did.

He always thought with time he could learn to love what you did, but art, marine life, and so many other things never captured him the same way his own interests did. He loved seeing your passion, but your passion with Minhyuk always got under his skin.

“I love that you get along so well with the boys, don’t get me wrong,” Jooheon sighed, moving his hand away from his face, “but I hate that you have so much in common with Minhyuk, I feel like I can’t compare when you bond over so much.”

“You don’t need to compare, you’re your own person.”

“But he’s so much like you.”

Your head shook, reaching your hand out to pull him back up upright. “I love that Minhyuk enjoys what I do, but it’s the differences between the two of us that makes us so well suited.”

“I just wish that I could enjoy art galleries and things with you like Minhyuk does, I am appreciative that the two of you want to go to Jeju but hearing your plans for the trip just made me terrified that I would be a massive interruption.”

“Of course, not,” you laughed, “that’s why we offered to do things that you enjoy too, to make sure that it’s a trip that everyone can enjoy.”

Jooheon’s head nodded as he muttered an apology, shuffling forwards so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into him.

“The things we have planned in Jeju might not appeal to you, but when we sit down and dinner, maybe we can come up with an itinerary that everyone will enjoy, and understand that others have different interests as well?”

“That sounds like a really good idea.”

“And I promise to pretend that I enjoy what you want to do as well.”

His eyes rolled back at you, “and I promise that I will try and enjoy bobbing around in the sea on the boat staring at nothing.”

“Don’t be like that, you heard what Minhyuk said about the sightings.”

“Knowing our luck, we’ll see nothing.”

---

Masterlist

[cloudysarts]

love to see that essay you wrote on The Evil Dead if you willing? The Evil Dead (1981) is one of the first horror movies I watched, and I just love the Scotty Scenes. His death scene was probably the scariest moment for me. Ashley is alone for the first time with the deadities

I don’t think I’ll be able to link the essay, because it’s pretty poorly written, BUT i will gladly give a few notes from the essay under the cut :) the whole thing is mostly a character analysis on scotty and why i see him as sorta-queer coded, but i am queer and probably projecting so take everything I say with a grain of salt!!

- Scotty’s main character flaw is that he’s selfish, and I don’t really think that can be denied. He’s bad at respecting boundaries, and generally comes off as sort of a bully. Although, I don’t think he ever really has malicious intent, he just has absolutely no idea when he’s going too far, and gets defensive when called out about it. That being said, his mean-spirited tendencies are very rarely directed at Ash. That’s one of the many reasons I think that his energy might be more jealous than malicious. 

- One of my first points about why it comes off as jealousy is his odd sort of disdain towards Linda (which I’ll talk more about later). Although it’s not just her, it’s a disdain that extends towards all of Ash’s romantic interests (EX: the comment he makes in the cellar, about one of Ash’s ex’s.) 

- Scott’s character is to be the ‘best friend’ of the protagonist, and I think that comes across very well! They have a ton of chemistry, and tend to want to spend time alone together more than any other pairing. In fact, I see that even to the extent of Scotty, now fully aware that the cabin is haunted, deliberately advising Shelly to go off alone. That leaves just him and Ash. Maybe this is a stretch, but to me, it reads as Scotty choosing who to protect. 

- Scott and Shelly don’t really interact much, being side characters. They sit next to each other in the car, and share a room, but that’s kind of it. In one of the interactions of The Evil Dead, it’s even said that the cabin incident was Ash’s first time meeting Shelly at all. This is more of a headcanon than a character analysis(although there is a line that I got this idea from, that I now can’t remember. It’s been a while since I’ve watched this movie), but I feel like this trip was originally something planned by Ash and Scotty. But Ash invited his girlfriend, and Scotty, not wanting to be a third wheel, invited Shelly. And since you have the whole gang together, it’d be weird not to include Cheryl. The point here being, I think Shelly and Scotty only recently started dating. You could argue that it’s just how he responds to trauma, but even Ash seems more upset about Shelly’s possession than Scotty does. (EX: A: “What are we gonna do?” S: “We’re gonna bury her.” A: “We can’t bury Shelly. She’s a friend of ours.” S: “Ash, she’s dead!”)

- Scotty was, in the first movie, the only character to do any fighting, even dismembering Shelly despite NEVER being told that’s what you’re supposed to do. Ash was a lot more cowardly, in the first iteration. There is literally a scene where Scott has to wrestle an axe out of his hands because he was so afraid that he completely froze up. He knew that he was the one doing the protecting here, and probably wholly expected he and Ash to be the only ones who leave the cabin alive.

- Speaking of the two being the only ones to leave the cabin alive, that brings me to the scene where they’re on the porch. Scotty gives Ash an ultimatum. He can stay in the cabin with Linda, who’s probably already dead by now, or he can come with him in the woods. He is literally asking Ash to choose him this time, instead of his girlfriend. Ash, of course, chooses Linda. And Scotty, with his own arrogance and selfishness, goes out into the woods. 

- And you couldn’t get more direct than Scotty’s death scene. Only two minutes later, he returns. A fun detail I noticed is that this scene is a direct parallel to their meeting in the cellar! As in, Ash isn’t looking, and is scared by Scotty, despite it being unintentional this time. They’re even facing the same way! Anyway, Ash drags him to the couch, where Scotty only asks one thing of him. Not to leave him alone. “You’re not gonna leave me, are ya, Ash?”

It’s what he meant, when he was asking Ash to come with him on the trail. But this time, he’s asking directly. He wants Ash, just this once, to stay with him. - What I personally think is the saddest detail here, is that, again, Ash chooses Linda. Her laughing gets under his skin so badly, that he drags her outside, etc. etc.. By the time he comes back, Scotty is already dead. That means Scotty died alone; the one thing he didn’t want. This only gets more upsetting at the reminder that Scott had done all the fighting so far. Ash has to take the reigns now, despite having absolutely no experience. 

All of that being said, I don’t think Scotty is in the right with any of these actions. Like I said, the things he did were inherently harmful, malicious, and selfish. But I really do think he cares deeply for all his friends, but values specifically Ash and his own safety even more. I think he’s such an interesting character, and would’ve loved to see him come back in future iterations :)

Also can we talk about how in the new Evil Dead game, there’s like a ‘college’ Ash outfit where he is 100% wearing Scott’s flannel,

I always liked the idea they were roommates in college :)

[taechaos]

can u do more of jealous jk drabbles?👉👈

this one kinda cute but theres smut 😃

The best time of the day is when the sun is just over the horizon, taking on a blue and orange hue in the sky, not shining bright enough to blind or give a heat stroke to the crowd in the amusement park. Just enough illumination to not have to rely on the lights provided from the ferris wheel, neon titles above the rides and games you stand before.

You can't contain your squeal and shake your interlocked hands with Jungkook while bouncing on your feet, the three companies you came with much more casual about the occasion. "Where should we go first?!"

Your boyfriend shrugs, Soyeon glances at Taehyung who makes the decision: "Rollercoaster." He has a crazed grin on his face, the sparkle and mischief in his eyes matching yours. Both of you are extremely fond of these thrillers.

"A rollercoaster...? I'll wait for you guys," Soyeon sheepishly holds her nape with a smile. You coo at her.

Jungkook scoffs arrogantly, "Are you afraid too, baby? You can hold onto my arm."

You blow raspberries and clutch onto your friend's arm, "I love rollercoasters." You and Soyeon gaze into each other's eyes as you say, "Don't worry. It'll be fun if you come with me."

She blushes, Taehyung and Jungkook watching the interaction with quirked brows. How boy-friendly of you.

The seats were decided. You all bought the tickets, and it's your turn to hop on the carts. Girls sit in front of the boys, and Soyeon hesitantly places her hand on top of yours on the railing. Taehyung wraps his hands around Jungkook's arm, who is slouching in his seat with a frown.

"I'm so scared, Jungkookie," Taehyung's teeth chatter, "w-will you protect me?"

All the carts are secured as the ride slowly moves forward, slightly creaking as Jungkook groans, "Let go of my fucking arm!" Despite his relentless shaking, his best friend only holds on tighter.

"Why? Your girlfriend is having a sexual awakening with her buddy girl, why can't we?!"

Jungkook gapes at him, brows meeting in perplexity before he looks at the row across. The two of you have your heads leaning on each other, and no, that was the romantic scene he was supposed to have with you, not Taehyung who snuggles into him in whimsical fear.

"She's straight," he counters weakly, not even caring about his numbing arm from the sight before him.

The carts reach the peak of the tracks, a sense of adrenaline stirring in everyone's stomach and you squeeze Soyeon's hand comfortingly seconds before Taehyung's scream torments the whole population's ears. Needless to say, Jungkook had it the worst.

—————

Your boyfriend winces with a finger in his left ear as he follows the group with Taehyung next to him, behind you and Soyeon.

"Remind me to never go on a rollercoaster with you," he seethes intimidatingly, emitting a snort from the guilty.

"Ooh, bumper cars!" Taehyung childishly points at the competitive game. Jungkook smiles wickedly, "I'm going to give you a fucking concussi–"

"Boys against girls!" Soyeon chirps, and you gasp at the amazing idea.

"Yes! That'd be so fun!"

Upon seeing Jungkook's incredulous face, Taehyung bursts out in laugher and clutches his stomach, tearing up when he instantly goes in denial mode.

Which didn't help, because Soyeon stole you for herself once more and he is stuck with the dumbest person he's ever met once more.

"Let's beat those bitches."

"That's my girlfriend, Tae."

Those words were thrown out the window the moment the game began, because he became ruthless. Even Taehyung was getting nauseous from how violently the car was bumping against yours, the one Soyeon claimed shotgun in, rocking your bodies back and forth. It's revenge for not giving him the attention he rightfully deserves, and leaving him with who was supposed to be a fourth wheel.

No mercy, you must suffer.

When you all got off the ride, Taehyung couldn't stop stumbling all over the place.

"I'm going to throw up," he groans and pinches Jungkook's shirt.

"That settles it: I won," he shrugs triumphantly. Soyeon is quick to bite back, "You almost killed us."

"Oh no," you jump to his defence with a giggle, "he's just very competitive."

Your boyfriend smiles at your first acknowledgement of his existence, relieved as he throws an arm around you. "I'm not about to lose to a bunch of–"

"Please don't finish that sentence," you smile at him; sickly sweet with your warning.

He forces a chuckle, "–a bunch of strong, independent women."

—————

"You ever seen lesbian porn, Jungkook?" Taehyung asks as he licks up a fat stripe on his ice cream. Jungkook doesn't bother responding. "It usually begins with one girl being all shy and reluctant until the sexual tension becomes too much. Say they're studying, gossipping, whatever, the normal stuff. Then... one of them makes the first move, and the other eventually gets into it." He glances at his friend to measure his reaction; nonchalant and barely listening. "Oh, but I have a boyfriend, oh this is wrong, oh friends don't do this," he imitates in a higher pitch. "Then they fuck."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he asks, flabbergasted and annoyed. He's holding onto your ice cream after you left to the bathroom with your friend, Taehyung protecting hers and licking the melted drops to keep the cone clean. What Soyeon doesn't know won't hurt her; the flavor is too good for him to waste.

"I'm just saying man, you never know with these girls," his cheeks puff out as he suppresses a laugh. Jungkook's paranoia is easy to mess with, and he knows he shouldn't do it so often, but it's just so fun. A snort slips.

"They've been roommates for two years, I'm sure if she was bisexual, she'd know by now," he spits defensively.

"Oh my God, do you think they got drunk and kiss–"

"We're back!" you announce and take your cone from Jungkook's hand, your friend doing the same.

"Welcome back, baby," he stands up to hug you, effectively pulling you a few steps away from Soyeon with a glare. You relish in it with joy, mushing your face against his chest.

"What should we go on next?" Taehyung casually cuts into your display of affection.

"The ferris wheel, maybe? Oh, Soyeon, you have–" you point at the corner of your lip, and she mirrors the opposite side, prompting you to reach out a hand and wipe off the stain with your thumb. Jungkook blinks in astonishment. Taehyung's eyes widen to saucers as he watches his soul leave his body. His words are getting to him.

Your hand is snatched away in a flash, and you're dragged away back to the stalls where he corners you, answering your unspoken question: "Hey, just wanted to privately ask you how your date is going with Soy milk." His voice drips with sarcasm, the attitude catching you off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I feel like I'm third wheeling in front of my own girlfriend," he scowls, and your heart drops. "You haven't done a single thing with me today. I thought we came here to spend time with each other, yet we've done anything but. Be honest, are you..." he gulps and averts his gaze, "is there something going on...?"

"Jungkook," you startle and place a hand on his chest, "it's nothing like that. Of course I wanted to spend time with you, but Soyeon's been trying really hard to mend our friendship so I thought I would reciprocate. I didn't want things to be awkward between us, but I didn't realize I was neglecting you. I'm really sorry, love."

Your explanation endears him, shoulders slouching in relief just before he murmurs, "But in lesbian porn..."

"Oh my God," you exclaim in disbelief with a laugh, "I just hung out with her."

"You know I get needy!" he frowns with flushed cheeks. "That bitch wouldn't let go of you for one goddamned second, if I didn't know better I would've dragged you away a lot sooner."

You coo at him and squeeze his cheeks before he shakes you off grumpily. "I was going to go on the ferris wheel to make it up to you."

"Oh wow," he rolls his eyes, "can't believe you found the time to think about me."

"So jealous," you tease.

"Shut up," he pushes your forehead with his finger, "before I try to mend my friendship with Soy milk as well."

"She is not your friend," you glare at him with hooded eyes.

"So jealous."

—————

"The ride is five minutes long," Jungkook blurts out of thin air the moment you step into the moving cabin. "And we're going to stop at the top." At your gasp, he continues as he takes a seat, "Yeah, I did that movie cliché and paid extra."

"Jungkook," you coo with doe eyes and lay your head on his shoulder, "that's so romantic."

"Hey, don't get all cute. You said you were going to make it up to me." He tilts your chin, "How far are you willing to go?"

His question doesn't throw you off, and you chuckle, "Whatever you want."

"Yeah? Your time is running out," he looks past the window to see how high up you are. Four meters off the ground, give or take. "You think you can make me cum before we get off?"

Oh. "Better choose fast–"

You fondle with the buckle of his belt and make quick work of your hands to pull down his black jeans that hug his thighs. You lick your lips for moisture, and after what some experiences have thought you, you know to spit in your hand before wrapping your fingers around him.

"Damn, you didn't come here to play," he releases a humored breath as he watches you get him off. As if the limited time isn't bad enough, you have to get him erect in remarkable speed as well. He shifts slightly with a deep sigh, and when his cock starts to grow, you get on your knees before him and take the head of his length in your mouth. He sucks his teeth and weaves his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes. Thirteen meters off the ground.

Mindful of your pace, you ease his length inside by taking him inch by inch, swirling your tongue the way he likes it and bobbing your head. His grip on your hair tightens as a low grunt resounds in the cabin. "You're doing so well," he looks down at you with half hooded eyes, lustful in their gaze, "you want to make it up to me that bad? Want to please me? Gosh," he sighs.

You deepthroat him with your hand covering what you can't reach until he thrusts into your mouth. You gag in reflex, and he uses your hair as leverage to do the rest for you. It's sloppy now, and saliva drools from the corner of your mouth with welling tears. You can only hope he reaches climax in time. Twenty two feet off the ground.

When his thrusts begin to slow down, you take it as your cue to pull away and jerk him off, your tongue taking care of the tip as his breaths grow more and more shallow. You assume he's holding back moans as to not attract any attention to your cabin. Thirty one meters. You make it a challenge for yourself to make him cum by the timr you reach the peak.

"Ah, go faster," he furrows his brows, face twisting in pleasure as he leans back on his seat. Your scalp starts to sting from his strong grasp.

Your hand listens, and you suck harder on the head while teasing the slit, and he gasps louder each passing second. He's panting while forty three feet off the ground, and a few moments later, his hips lift off the seat as he groans, his release on your tongue that you swallow. It comes in stutters, so you keep your mouth on him until you've swallowed every drop to avoid getting banned from the amusement park. Calling it simply taboo is an underestimatement.

"Shit, shit," he breathlessly says and thrusts into your mouth two last times before pulling out, a string of saliva still attached to your mouth. The ferris wheel stops. "You were fucking perfect, baby," he murmurs and his head goes limp, eyes dazed from the climax. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smile despite the ache in your jaw.

"Thank you," you squeak and sit next to him. His head rolls to you. "Is my face okay?"

"Oh, you wore lipstick," he laughs quietly and uses the hem of his matching black shirt to clean up the smudge, his stomach on display from the action. You sit still as he fixes up your appearance, brushing your disheveled hair with his fingers, and just to be extra, he adjusts your collar, making you giggle and roll your eyes. "Like nothing happened. I'll eat you out at my dorm to return the favor."

You blush in surprise at his words, but he dismisses it by looking at the view. The sun has set, and all the lights sparkle from under you and the midnight black sky. It's beautiful. You admire it with him.

"I can't believe I paid extra for this. There's not even fireworks."

BONUS:

Soyeon and Taehyung sit across from each other without averting their gaze from the sky, effectively ignoring the presence of one another until he breaks the silence. "This is so romantic."

"Yeah."

"If we were a couple, this would be the perfect moment to kiss."

"Um... I guess," she shrugs off his unusual flirting.

"You want to be a couple for this ride?" he suggests and looks at her with wiggling brows.

She doesn't return the stare, softly speaking, "No, I think I'd rather jump off."

He chuckles under his breath, "Jungkook is going to have a field day when he finds out you're lesbian."

"Huh?"

"I said why don't you jump on this dick."

[iwishtobeastorm]

Congratulations on your 200 followers! I’m proud to be one of them! Can I request a Frankie Morales with plus size reader? Maybe reader thinks that Frankie likes someone else? 🥺 angst and fluff? Thank you so much in advance, I love your writing.

“I was afraid I’ll lose you.“ “Never.“

A/N: Thank you so so so much babe! I'm so grateful you're following me and that you like my work. 💕 When I saw you requested Frankie I almost fainted because I love the man more than anything and I couldn't wait to finally write something about him. I hope this angsty fluffy thing won't disappoint!

The most dangerous thing - Frankie Morales/Chubby!F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2200+

Celebration | Masterlist

It's as if everything around you stopped, the whole world just froze, the sounds got drowned by silence, the light turning into darkness as a huge wound opens in your chest sucking in all the warmth that you felt after Santi's last joke. You can't look away, your wide opened eyes filling with tears, before Benny nudges your shoulder, taking you back, your gaze snapping to him, the loud roaring of the bar fills your ears as you're met with the baby blue of his irises, watching you with worry. "Y/N, are you okay?" He speaks softly, his hand squeezing on your shoulder. You don't know what to say. You're sure he can tell perfectly you're not okay by the hot tears running down your cheeks. "Uhm, sure. I just need a minute," you murmur, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands as you rise from the table, rushing to the toilets before any of the boys come back to sit down or before Benny's able to stop you. You close the door behind you, locking in, before you lean your back against it, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs as you slowly slip to the ground, clutching your knees to your body, your tears now coming in burning streams, blurrying your vision. All of this for one man.

You've met the boys while working at the bar as a part-time job to have more money to cover your university life. You immediately grew to the whole group, spending maybe too much time joking around with them for your boss's liking. They've always flirted with you, or most of them did. Most of them, but never Frankie. And you being the little fool you're, of course you fell in love with him. He was always quiet and shy, never holding an eyecontact for too long, never teasing you. He rarely spoke to you at first, which made him even more attractive in your eyes, more mysterious. But when he started talking to you? Oh boy. You learned how smart he is and so perceptive, while he told you about a new book or an article he read or that caught his eyes, while he waited for the rest of the group and you hanged on his every word, watching him with unhidden fascination. You know he's older than you, but that doesn't mean the two of you couldn't work together. Actually you think you two would make an amazing couple. You can imagine falling asleep in his arms while he reads to you or spending the weekends with the boys, playing pool or cards like they sometimes do, as Benny told you once. You could get used to the life with him more than easily, but those are all daydreams. The longer time you've known them, the more you found out about Frankie and his past. You got to know he's divorced and has a little daughter and that all of the boys served in special forces, that's where their nicknames come from. The more you've heard about Frankie the more you grew to him. A few months ago you were invited to Benny's b-day party and ever since that, you hang out with them from time to time. You know you technically don't belong there, but they never made you feel like the third wheel, more like the little princess they all have to protect as your knights in shining armor. That's when you got significantly closer to Frankie. You two found yourself caught up in your own conversation more and more often, sometimes leaving the noisy company of the rest of the boys, just sitting on Millers' patio in the rocking chairs and talking about everything and nothing, laughing together until your ribs got tough sometimes. Frankie brought out a part of you you didn't know you had. All of those little things made you believe it was going the right way. You go along well, right? What else should matter? Until today Frankie was late. You were late yourself bacuse you had an important assignment to finish, but Frankie was never late. He was always the first one there, always. It made you worried, because apparently none of the boys knew what was actually going on, until Frankie showed up with a lady by his sight. Pretty one, a bit older than you and much much thinner, making your insecurity thrive. That's why you ran away like a coward, hiding in the bathroom, curled up into a ball on the ground to cry your eyes out. This is not how you imagined this night. You thought it will be the usual. A bit of friendly flirting with Pope, life-check up with Will, a lot of laughing with Benny and nice conversation with Frankie, before you retire to your stinky dorms. Not this. Maybe you could climb out of the window and run away. No, no, you can't because you left your purse at the table. Or maybe you could pretend you were sick and sneak out? That could work, but you're not really prepared to face Frankie and whoever that lady is. You're screwed. "Y/N! Are you in there?" There's a banging on the door, making your form shake with it and you slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears that got stuck on your cheeks and taking a deep breath before responding to Benny's question. "Yeah, I- I just don't feel really well," you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Well, technically this isn't a lie. "Would you open the door for me?" He asks, hint of plea in his voice. "Uhm- just wait a second," you say softly, raising from the ground. You know that if you said no, Benny is able to kick the door open without hesitation. You check yourself in the mirror, getting rid of

any signs you've ever cried, before opening the door, just to find the younger Miller brother leaning against the doorframe, face curved in worry. "What's going on? Are you alright?" He asks, stepping in, letting you close the door behind him. "These are restrooms for women, Benny. You probably shouldn't be here," you murmur, trying to sound like you're teasing him to lighten up the mood and also mainly to avoid answering his questions, but there's no way Benny would let it slip. Not after the anguish he saw in your eyes and the tears that rolled down your cheeks. "Spill it, Y/N. I know something's up," he states, folding his hands on his chest like Frankie does sometimes, the mental mention of him reminding you of the lady by his side and your eyes start stinging again. "I just- didn't feel good," you say softly, trying to sound persuasive. But Benny's way past buying that. "Because of Sylvie?" He asks and you frown softly. "Sylvie?" You raise an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle softly. "Yeah, the lady that Frankie brought with him," he states, making your heart sink. "No," you murmur to respond to his initial question. "Are you sure?" Benny raises an eyebrow at you, leaning his body against the wall, eyes never leaving you, so you have to watch your expression carefully. "Yes. Can I leave now? I really don't feel good, Benny," you say, not really waiting for his approval, reaching for the door to open them, but Benny pushes his arm against it, holding it closed. Your strenght is nothing compared to his, so you know you're trapped. "Let me leave, please," you look up at him. "I saw the way you look at him, Y/N," he states, his gaze softening. Your eyes fill with tears but you refuse to let them fall. Always so stubborn, as Will says. You look down, trying to hide all the emotions your eyes could give away easily. "Why don't you tell him?" Benny asks, leaning against the door. "Because it would be useless. I- I thought he feels the same but apparently he doesn't. I don't need more damage. Would you now let me leave, please?" you say softly, tugging on the door. "It's not like that. Pope set them up. Frankie didn't want it," Benny states. "Does it matter now? He's out there with her on our night, isn't he? And- and he looked happy so-," you clench your jaw, trying to open the damned door but it's useless when Benny's leaned on it. "Get away from the fucking door, Ben. I- I'm not playing," you grumble, the tears slipping over your eyelids and rolling down your cheeks at your struggle. Benny steps away from the door and tries to reach for you to continue with his attempt to comfort you, or whatever that was supposed to be, but you dodge his hand and storm out of the restrooms. You head straight to the table, not looking at anyone, just grasping your purse and murmuring quick I gotta go, before you're out of the door, their shouting of your name rings in your ears even as you walk down the street to your dorms. It's over. It's all over. He left you. He never felt the same. And now you have nothing.

You've spent the rest of the weekend in bed, eating ice cream and watching Bridget Jones, hoping that will heal the aching wound in your chest, but by now you doubt anything ever can. You turned off your notifications on the phone, not letting a single one of the guys know what is actually going on, so Benny remained the only one cursed with knowledge. On Sunday evening you finally get out of the bed and clean up a bit, since your roommate will return tomorrow morning from their visit of their family or whatever and if they saw this mess, they'd probably beat you up, so you play some lazy songs and get into it. Just as you're cleaning up the small bathroom you have, there's a knock on the door. You at first think it wasn't your door, since there's literally no one who could've been knocking at your door at this time, but then it's there again, louder this time, forcing you to turn off the water, wipe your hands and head out to find out who it is. When you open the door, you hesitate the urge to shut them again, your heart squeezing in your chest, making it feel too tight for your liking. "Uhm, hey," you murmur, your eyes meeting the dark brown irises you sometimes dream of. "Hey. I just- can I come in?" He tilts his head towards the inside of your room, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Y-yeah, sure," you murmur, stepping away from the door and letting Frankie in. You close it behind you, biting on your lower lip. There's not much space in your dorm room, so you gesture to your bed so Frankie has somewhere to sit down, while you pour him a glass of water. "So- what is that you need?" You ask softly when you return from the bathroom, handing him his glass of water and biting on your lower lip. "I- I'm here because of Friday," he states and you wish you could jump out of the window and run. "Okay," you murmur, not really sure where this whole thing is going. Did boys send him here because they are worried and they know you two are close? Or did Benny tell them what he found out? Either way you seem to be fucked. "What happened, Y/N? You left in such hurry and- I saw you were crying," he swallows nervously, his grasp on the glass tightening. Benny told them, eventually. It took a long time, lots of beers and lots of pressure from all of the guys but he told them. And Frankie's here to make it all good. "It's nothing," you murmur, adverting your gaze, your cheeks burning. "I know it's not nothing, Y/N. Please, you have to tell me," he reaches for your hand, squeezing a bit on it until your eyes meet his, welling up in tears. "I just- I- I like you Frankie. Like a lot. And- and I just- when you brought Sylvie I-," you take a shaky breath, your throat getting too tight with the sobs you hold back, making you unable to speak. "Shh, come here," he murmurs, grabbing your other hand too and leading you to sit on his lap. You're so surprised you forget how to breathe for a moment as your hands rest on his shoulders, while he cups your both cheeks with his calloused hands, wiping away your tears. "I like you too, darling. Sylvia is Pope's fault. I- I insisted there's nothing I feel to you and he then dared me to take some girl out to persuade him about it. I didn't want to. All I wanted was you. And I realized it fully when I saw you leaving the bar. I just- I'm sorry," he mumbles, sighing through his prominent nose, that you adore dearly. His words make you smile, warming up the empty cold darkness in your chest, finally bringing you back to your usual self. "I was just afraid I'll lose you," you admit, playing with the little curls on the back of his neck. "Never," he says, raising your chin so your eyes meet his and before you're able to do anything, Frankie's soft lips are on yours. He pulls you closer, hands squeezing on your hips, making your cheeks flush red as you run your fingers into his hair. You fight the grin on your face as you realize what this means. You have Frankie now. And Frankie has you.

-----------------------------------------

Tag list:

Thank you so much for your support!

@pintsizemama @rosi3ba3z @lovelylostminds @lokigirlszendaya

[sodacanwritings]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 —

ft. — yuji, megumi, inumaki, gojo

notes: I thought this would be quite funny. @yuzuneki it's here

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 as the guy from my friend group i was in love with for more than two years. he was the sweetest friend you could ever have, kind and open, he was the person who told you to continue when you noticed no one was listening to your story, and always seemed genuinely interested. yuji as the guy who I talked about manga with, who explained me all the powers and fights which, I never understood much, but I liked seeing him so passionate. who let me rest my head on his shoulder when I was tired and didn't mind, but also was too oblivious. as the guy who was my best friend and, everyone could tell we liked eachother somehow, except for us. got confessed to by a note, but he thought it was a joke and never responded. actually went on a date about a year later, talking things out, and agreed to stay friends. even though it was a misunderstanding which went over a few years, it never really hurt much, and was a nice time to remember.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 as that time I had a crush on a guy who liked me back, and nobara as my friend who played the third wheel. it was evening in winter, 6pm and already dark, going for a walk next to the river, and nobara had pissed off to stand 20 meters away - taking an important phone call from her friend, that, later on, turned out to be a complete a lie.

megumi who awkwardly stood there, exchanging stories of our lives. who, told me about his 'first kiss' being that time a dog bit him in the face. megumi who, I asked if I could hug, and, did so after he said yes. to the people around it must've looked super awkward, but it was thrilling and exciting and new, and we both still really enjoyed it.

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 as the quiet boy who sat next to me in kindergarden. who never talked much but still got along with me. inumaki who, mostly wore blue sweaters and used to bring bento boxes his mom packed for him. inumaki who, to this day I don't know why, traded his sushi for my apples and cucumbers. who invited me to his brithday party and had the same favorite color as me. inumaki who baked cookies with me.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 as me. asked his best friend to confess to his crush for him, and chose the worst time possible. got rejected super bad, cried his eyes out and still had to face them later at dinner. he got a glimpse of their face of what seemed to be guilt, it was obvious he cried. (he felt satisfied about that). was mad at suguru and secretly blamed him for what happened, because he didn't stop him or honestly no good reason, he still knew that it was entirely his fault.

[emerald-chaos]

Coney Island

Hi friends! I appreciate all the love and response I’ve gotten for my writing over the past week or so. You guys sure know how to make a gal feel loved! This is another little idea that came one night when I was screaming to a good friend of mine (which is how a lot of my ideas come to me lmao) about how pre-serum 1940s Steve deserves the best. It’s not necessarily my best work, but Steve Rogers deserves some love too. I hope you guys enjoy! Also please feel free to let me know what you guys would like to see me write next :) Enjoy! xo

Pairing: Pre-Serum!Steve x Reader

Word count: 1895

Warnings: swearing and bad attempts at being funny lol

a/n: this was uploaded on mobile because I’m at work tonight so if it looks funky I apologize! I’ll try to fix it after I finish my 3 night stint lol.

As the sun began to set and the hot July air began to cool, Steve couldn’t believe the situation he’d found himself in yet again.

“Come on, pal,” Bucky chuckled as he pat his friend roughly on the shoulder, “I’ve never met someone who was this upset to meet up with a couple of beautiful ladies.”

“What? And somehow be the third wheel on a double date again?” Steve quipped back at his long time friend.

Bucky replied with a roll of his eyes and waved off his friend, turning his body toward the Coney Island parking lot to see if he could find the girls they were supposed to be meeting.

Steve regretted that he sounded so bitter, but these “double dates” that Bucky dragged him on were somewhat of a joke. It was always the same song and dance. The girl who Bucky was attempting to court would bring a friend, either for moral support or to try and set her up, and that friend would always be wholly disappointed when she saw that Steve was who she was stuck with. Steve knew that not every girl had to like him, of course, but occasionally it would be nice to be as sought after or wanted as Bucky was - or at least to not be looked through by every girl he met.

“There they are,” Bucky grinned, raising his arms above his head to signal the two, “over here!”

Steve took a deep breath and prepared himself for the inevitable look of disappointment that he had become so accustomed to. Instead, as he turned he was met with a stunning pair of eyes and a soft smile splayed across the most incredible pair of lips he’d ever laid his eyes on. Seeing you made him feel like all the air had been forced out of his lungs and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t catch his breath. The only other time he remembered experiencing the sensation was after a particularly bad time that he had gotten the living hell beat out of him in the alleyway - except this time, it was a good feeling.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve.” You said, your voice soft and warm - like honey.

There’s no way that could be a blush on your cheeks, right?

“Well, we already got our tickets,” Bucky’s voice brought Steve back to the present, “so what do you say we head in?”

---------

For the first time in, well, forever, Steve actually found himself enjoying the evening. The small talk didn’t feel stiff or forced, you never recoiled at any of the accidental touches throughout the night, and you actually looked him in the eyes when you were having a conversation. If you were disappointed in being stuck with Steve, you hid it pretty well.

The unrelenting sun had finally set and the colorful lights of various rides and booths reflected off of the water. You had been on a couple rides, enjoyed some hot dogs and funnel cakes, and now the group of you had been sucked into one of those carnival game booths. Bucky was attempting, as usual, to show off for your friend by trying to win her a stuffed animal.

“Would you like to take a walk or something?” Your voice captured Steve’s attention as he turned to look at you. You grinned a little before adding, “It’s kind of sickening to stand here and watch them act like this.”

Steve was caught off guard, both at the jab directed to your friends and the fact that you would even consider being alone with him.

“I, uh, yeah, sure, we could do that,” he nodded quickly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You smiled and started down the boardwalk.

This is too good to be true, right? He thought to himself. She’s obviously just trying to be nice.

“Steve?” your voice cut through his doubts. He hadn’t even realized that you made it several feet away from him and he was still planted in the same spot.

“Oh! Yeah, coming! Sorry!” Steve blushed as he hurried to catch up with you.

The two of you walked side by side for a few minutes, an oddly comfortable silence lingering between you.

“How are-”

“Have you-”

Steve’s eyes met yours as you both began to speak simultaneously and you shared a laugh together. Steve could feel the warmth rising in his face and he hoped to God that he wasn’t blushing like an idiot.

“You first,” he smiled softly.

“I was just going to ask how long you and James have known each other?” you asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

And there it was.

To anyone else the question would seem innocent, but Steve knew better. You had only drawn Steve away so you could question him about his friend - the same way every other person before you had done. There was a heat building inside Steve’s stomach. How could he be so stupid? How could he actually believe that someone like you could be interested in someone like him?

“T-the only reason I ask is,” you blurted, sounding...nervous? “well, because the two of you are so different. I mean, not in a bad way! Just like, James is so...cocky and loud and you’re...well you’re not.”

Steve stopped walking and looked at you. His thoughts were racing through his brain like a freight train. What exactly were you trying to say?

“God I'm so bad with words,” you laughed, shaking your head, “just forget I said anything at all.”

“You don’t have to feel bad for me, you know. If that’s what this is.” Steve couldn’t hold back the words, and they sounded much colder than he meant them to. He was just so tired of living in his friend’s shadow. The only time girls were ever nice to him was because they wanted to impress Bucky. He was sure that’s what you were doing too.

Once he noticed your brows furrow and a look of sadness overcome your face, he wanted nothing more than to rewind time and take his words back.

“Is that the type of person you think I am, Steve?” Your voice came out a little shaky, but Steve could still hear the hurt he had caused.

Steve sighed and rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry,” he started as his hands fell from his face and he met your gaze again, “I’m just...I’m not used to this.”

“And what exactly is this?” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Someone on these double dats being interested in me.”

He could tell that his words caught you off guard. You were quiet and your arms slowly fell to your side. Steve was having trouble reading your expression, but it looked somewhere between someone who saw a puppy left on the side of the road and someone who was trying to understand a foreign language.

“Just...Just forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.” Steve waved his hand, as if he was trying to dismiss the conversation.

What he didn’t expect was for your hand to intertwine with his.

Steve’s gaze lingered on your connected hands for a minute before traveling to meet your eyes.

“You’re not very good at this, Rogers.” You said with a small laugh, “Here I was, thinking I was being too obvious.”

“I-I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Steve slowly responded.

You laughed again, the sound slowly becoming one of his favorites. Before he knew what was going on, you were pressed flush against him and capturing his lips with yours.

This would make the third time Steve had felt the wind be knocked from his lungs.

The kiss was slow, soft, and unlike any other he had ever experienced. It reminded him of the time his dad told him how he knew his mom was the one.

Well, when we kissed it felt like the rest of the world melted away. At that moment in time, it was just her and I.

A shiver ran down his spine as the warmth of your lips left his. As though he was drunk or coming out of a haze, it took him a moment to open his eyes and focus his vision back on you. There was a cute pinkness to your cheeks and you had a doe-eyed expression. It took a moment for the heartbeat in his ears to fade away - the joyful screams of park patrons and whirring of machinery returning.

“I like you, Steve,” You told him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “In fact, I've liked you for a while.”

You watched as Steve’s adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped.

“You,” Steve cleared his throat as the word came out as a squeak, “you do?”

That smile he adored returned to your lips as you nodded, “I do.”

Before he had an opportunity to respond, you were speaking again.

“I see you at school, you know, around town too. I’ve always noticed how kind you are to everyone. The way you hold the door open for the old ladies at Church. That one time you gave Johnny your lunch because his parents forgot to pack him one?” the smile on your face growing bigger as you recounted the times in which you fell for Steve Rogers, “I mean, what’s not to like.”

Steve felt an asthma attack coming on.

“James is nice and all,” you leaned in then, as if you were telling a secret, “but he’s also kind of a bastard.”

Steve couldn’t hold back the laugh that tumbled from his lips and you quickly joined him. This felt like some sort of twisted dream to him - you standing here, confessing your feelings to him. Never in a million years did he think someone as beautiful as you would even talk to him, let alone have feelings for him.

“Obviously I’m kidding, but in all honesty... you are one of the best men I’ve ever met, Steve. I’m sorry that any one has ever made you feel less than.” You squeezed his hand again.

This time it was Steve who initiated the kiss, holding your face between his hands as he moved his lips against yours. Your hands found a place on his waist and your bodies slotted against one another - like they were two puzzle pieces made to fit into one another. You tasted sweet, like funnel cake, and your lips were soft against his slightly chapped ones. Steve hadn’t kissed very many people in his lifetime, but if this were the last kiss he got to have - he could die a happy man.

“Ahem,”

The two of you separated to see your friend, holding a huge stuffed bear, and Bucky standing before you, grinning like fools.

“Are we interrupting something?” Bucky mocked the two of you, sending a wink to Steve.

“Shut it, Buck.” Steve warned, although he couldn’t help but grin back at his friend.

“Come on, lovebirds” Bucky teased, “my girl here wants to ride the ferris wheel again.”

You smoothed out your dress and smiled at Steve, lacing your fingers once again with his as the two of you followed your friends toward the ferris wheel.

For once, Steve was going to have to thank Bucky tomorrow.

[nol-an]

when our stars aligned || n. patrick

hello everyone! i’m super excited to finally be posting this slow burn, friends-to-lovers fic that has been in the works for almost a month now!

grab a drink and some snacks, this one’s 12.5k words (and not proofread oops)! as always, feedback is appreciated <3 enjoy!

__________

+ her

Your sweater-clad figure collapsed into your plush mattress as soon as you finished your last assignment for the day. After a hell week of university, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your night de-stressing and indulging in the bottle of wine that had been calling your name since the beginning of the week. You wanted nothing more than to catch up on the Bachelorette —because who doesn’t love trash TV— and to coil yourself in blankets for the rest of the night. 

On the other hand, your best-friend-slash-roommate, Maya, had different plans. She was fully convinced that the only proper remedy to your school-induced slump was a night out on the town. However, you knew that Maya’s plans for you would really just result in you third-wheeling her and her boyfriend, Joel. You don’t even need to ask your friend to know that Joel would be coming along too because the two were a package deal. Although you don’t mind Joel and think he’s a wonderful match for your long-time friend, the last thing you need is to be awkwardly tagging along with the sometimes overly-affectionate couple.

After a back-and-forth negotiation that seemed to last hours, you finally agreed to Maya’s proposition after she offered to wash the dishes and take out the trash for the next two weeks. You still expressed that you wouldn’t be happy if you came across any Bachelorette spoilers while you were out with Maya and Joel, but eventually, your mind became occupied by thoughts of what to wear. Deciding not to think too much into your outfit, you settled for a Pittsburgh Penguins pullover and your comfiest pair of black jeans. You sprayed yourself with perfume and glanced in your mirror one last time before leaving your room with the hopes of returning to your tempting bed soon.

As Joel’s car pulled into the parking lot of your and Maya’s apartment complex, you soon noticed a figure in the passenger seat. Squinting to see if you recognized the man, all you could deduce was that he had long hair and florid cheeks. Turning to Maya in confusion, your best friend looked unbothered as a grin spread across her face at the sight of her boyfriend. You trailed behind her as she jogged towards Joel’s car. She promptly gave him a peck on his cheek before giving the stranger in the passenger seat a hug. Huh, so maybe he wasn’t a stranger after all.

It only took you a few seconds afterwards to realize what was going on.

You were going to kill Maya.

As if she read your mind, your best friend waved you over to the car. Deciding to play nice for the sake of Maya and her excitement, you plastered on your best I-don’t-want-to-be-here-but-you-don’t-know-that smile, and greeted the two guys.

“Y/N, this is Nolan, one of Joel’s friends,” Maya explained. “I know you said you didn’t wanna third wheel, so Joel and I, being the wonderful friends we are, took what you said to heart,” she laughed as she watched your smile twitch a little.

It always took you a while to warm up to strangers and being your best friend of three years, Maya knew you were going to give her an earful after the night was over. So, she figured she’d at least have some fun while she was at it. Your eyes sent daggers in her direction before you waved at Joel and stuck your hand out to greet Nolan.

Other than his small smile that you would’ve missed if you weren’t as observant, Nolan didn’t give much indication that he wanted to be here, either. Great. You couldn’t read his expressions, but you hoped to god that this night wouldn’t be as awkward as you think it’s going to be.

Shortly after the introductions, you and Nolan are squeezed into the back of Joel’s car as him and Maya bicker over who should get the aux. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Nolan, who looks quite amused at the couple’s antics. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to break the ice, you attempted to start a conversation with Nolan.

“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve been stuck in the same space as Joel and Maya, either?” you joked.

He chuckled and angled his body a little closer towards you. “Unfortunately it’s not. If I’m being honest, this is not how I envisioned my Friday night going.”

Immediately processing his own words, a blush formed across his cheeks. “I- that’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, but Joel told me that we were getting food with Maya. I didn’t know this,” he used his right hand to gesture around the car, “was his actual plan,” he explained.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips, your eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m in the same boat. No one mentioned that you were coming, but honestly, I’m glad I’m not third-wheeling because I wanna puke every time they get too lovey-dovey.”

Nolan nodded in agreement, “You know what, Y/N? I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Relieved that Nolan was a lot less intimidating than you initially thought, you agreed with his comment and thanked the gods that this night was starting to look up.

“But there is one issue,” Nolan spoke up.

Your raised eyebrows cued him to speak again.

“I don’t know how I feel about that Pens sweatshirt of yours.”

+ him

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” an amused Kevin Hayes emerged from his room. He’d been living with Nolan for quite some time now, but the last thing he expected was to wake up to the sight of his roommate organizing their apartment, dust swiffer and all. There was even a vase of fresh flowers that Kevin sure as hell didn’t buy or remember seeing last night.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious, Hayesy? I’m cleaning the place,” Nolan deadpanned.

“Ok firstly, no shit. I was hoping you’d explain why you’re cleaning. I didn’t even know we had this much cleaning supplies,” Kevin quipped back, glancing over at the array of window and wood cleaner that was haphazardly strewn across the kitchen counter.

“Y/N is coming over,” Nolan curtly responded. He didn’t need to turn his focus away from scrubbing away the stove top’s stains to know that his roommate had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I thought you said the two of you were just friends?”

“Can’t friends hang out?” Nolan retaliated.

“Sure, they can. But why are you disinfecting this whole place? Teeks comes over all the time and you never do this for him,” Kevin pointed out. He knew Nolan enough to know that you weren’t “just a friend.” Nolan talked about you way too much for that to be the case.

“It’s the first time she’s coming over. I just don’t want her thinking we live in a pigsty,” Nolan started, “which is gonna be a little difficult considering you leave your shit all around the place. Plus, don’t act like you’ve never cleaned the place up when you’ve had someone over.”

Kevin was having a little too much fun messing with Nolan. “Okay, first of all, that was one time. And it was for a girl I liked,” Kevin enunciated his last word.

Nolan knew Kevin had a point, but he’d be damned if he let Hayesy know that. Nevertheless, Nolan’s silence gave it away, and that was all Kevin needed to rest his case.

“Deny your feelings all you want, but I know you like her — even if you don’t even know it yourself. Don’t be surprised when I say ‘I-told-you-so,’” Kevin laughed as he headed towards the front door. “m’Gonna head out, but text me if you need anything. Maybe confess your feelings for Y/N while you’re at it.”

Nolan flipped off his roommate. Sometimes he was sure that Kevin was a middle-schooler trapped in a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t you and him be friends without feelings being involved? Nolan was sure you only saw him in a platonic light and he was perfectly fine with that. If anything, he was glad to have met you — in the few months you’ve been in his life, you’ve become a breath of fresh air from his circle of Flyers friends. Sure, he didn’t think the two of you would talk again after the little number that Maya and Joel pulled, but he was glad that his friendship with you bloomed. Not only was he glad to know someone else to tolerate Maya and Joel’s shenanigans with, but he enjoyed how you made him feel like he didn’t have to maintain any facade. Your welcoming aura appreciated Nolan as the goofy, indie music-obsessed Winnipeg native — not a Flyers centerman who was more often than not, under the microscope of Philly and NHL media. He was perfectly content with the friendship and appreciated the soothing presence you offered. Wasn’t that enough of an indication that the two of you were just friends?

Within the next twenty minutes, three knocks on the door vibrated through the apartment, and Nolan rushed to the door to greet you. A smile gleamed on your face and you greeted Nolan with a hug. Although it was your first time hanging out at Nolan’s place — the two of you usually stuck to more public locations — nothing about the exchange was awkward and for that, Nolan was extremely thankful. He knew his quiet demeanor could sometimes scare people away, but you didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, you were patient with him and understood that the two of you would become more comfortable around each other as time wore on.

After setting your bag down on the key table, you casually dove into a story about how you nearly couldn’t make it to Nolan’s apartment because you were convinced you lost your keys.

It was nice, nothing felt stiff and Nolan was relieved that the two of you were able to skip the formalities that usually occur when someone visits for the first time.

Once you wrapped up your story, you finally took the chance to look around Nolan’s home. From the look on your face, Nolan knew you were expecting the place to look different. Whether or not that look was a good thing, however, he wasn’t sure.

“Nols, if I’m gonna be honest here, I was not expecting you and Kevin to have such an organized place,” you laughed, your light-hearted tone indicating that you meant it in the nicest way possible.

Releasing the breath he was holding, Nolan chuckled a bit. “Well, don’t get used to it. It’s only this clean like once a month,” he laughed while scratching the back of his neck. He almost contemplated telling you all the trouble he went through to make sure the apartment was clean for you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him not to. Probably a good call. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yea, water would be great,” you sat on one of the kitchen’s bar stools and watched Nolan pad over to the fridge. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as you peered into the relatively empty fridge.

The hockey player rolled a chilled water bottle over to you, perplexed by your reaction. “If you have something to say, say it to my face,” Nolan attempted to intimidatingly say. His cheery voice and sheepish smile gave away his tough-guy act, though.

“Just wondering how you have like three things in your fridge. What are you supposed to make with two carrots and eggs?” you chuckled.

Nolan feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that my ultra-busy schedule doesn’t let me go grocery shopping much. You should be honored that I was able to fit you into my agenda.” It wasn’t a lie that time didn’t permit Nolan to go shopping for food often, but he knew that if you wanted to hang, he would’ve found a way to make it work. But that’s normal, right? Friends can be excited to hang out with friends, right?

“So I’m guessing your pantry is just as bad?” you inquired.

“Ever the detective, Y/N,” Nolan confirmed. He opened the pantry door, gesturing to the several empty shelves.

Seconds later, the two of you got into a conversation about your favorite snacks. Nolan wasn’t sure how he found so much entertainment from talking about cookies and chips, but he wasn’t complaining. The discussion eventually moved over to the living space of the apartment, where you and Nolan settled on watching “How to Get Away With Murder” before promptly resuming your increasingly-heated debate on the best snacks.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore, Nols. How could you possibly like goldfish more than cheez-its?” you seriously questioned.

“They’re the superior snack, can’t do anything about that. That’s like asking me to choose between indie and country music, no competition,” Nolan shrugged.

Promising Nolan that you’d one day convince him otherwise, you let the conversation slowly fade out as the show started. The next few hours passed by in a blur. There were some side-conversations here, and there, but the two of you were mainly focused on the show and enjoying each other’s presence.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you and Nolan started sharing the same blanket. Minutes later, you were curled into his side, your head resting lightly on his right shoulder. You were so close to him that you could feel his body rumble with laughter every time you made a witty comment. Despite the position the two of you were in, things didn’t go further than that. You didn’t think much of it and based on Nolan’s concentration on the show, it didn’t seem like he gave it much thought, either.

It was nice. More than nice, really. You became so comfortable that you had to keep yourself from dozing off. Every once in a while, Nolan’s hand would play with your hair, his gentle movements nearly lulling you to sleep.

Eventually, you two found a good stopping point and you told Nolan that you should start heading home, not wanting to overstay your visit. Although Nolan protested, you insisted that you would definitely find another time to see him soon and that he should hang out with Kevin, who had gotten home just a few minutes ago.

“Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Yea, of course. Don’t watch any episodes without me, okay?” you said, sticking out your pinky to make Nolan promise.

“Only if you bring over some of your homemade chocolate-chip cookies that you talked about earlier,” he bargained.

“Deal,” you waved goodbye to Nolan one last time before slipping out the door. “Tell Hayesy I said hi,” you hollered from down the hall.

Speaking of the devil himself, Kevin walked over to Nolan once he shut the door. Before Kevin could even wipe the smirk off his face, Nolan stopped him.

“Just friends, Hayesy,” Nolan reaffirmed.

+ him

Another few months passed on, and everything proceeded as normal. You and Nolan’s bond inevitably grew, and he could confidently call you one of his best friends. You two made an effort to hang out at least every other week, and your plans ranged from short weekend getaways to study sessions where Nolan attempted to help you cram for tests. Nolan loved every second he spent with you, and he was more than grateful that Maya and Joel had introduced you to him. Eventually, the hang-out regimen that you and Nolan had developed started wavering as the universe had different plans for you two. You had totally forgotten about a major ten page paper you had to do and with the season starting soon, Nolan was back to practices and workout sessions nearly every day.

You two texted and FaceTimed, though, so not all was a lost cause. Especially for Nolan, it felt as if he was spending every minute of his free time talking to or texting you — not that he minded it, anyway. The text conversations were always light-hearted and mostly consisted of funny tweets and song recommendations. Even when you and Nolan called, your minds that were typically flooded with thoughts of school or hockey became more relaxed upon hearing the other’s voice.

After wrapping up a morning skate with Travis, Nolan checked his phones for any notifications.

Hayesy: Y/N is here. Not sure why but she was looking for you.

With panicked eyes, Nolan tried to think of all of the reasons why you’d be at his apartment. The blood nearly drained out of his face at the thought of making plans with you and accidentally forgetting, but he reassured himself that there was no way that was the case.

Is she okay???? Nolan quickly texted before running into the showers.

Nolan had never showered and changed that quickly, and he was almost positive that he put his shirt on backwards as he ran to his car. He mentally cursed Kevin, who for some reason thought it was acceptable to send him a cryptic text about you without any follow-up. You were usually good about texting Nolan about any updates to your life, so Nolan couldn’t help when his mind started conjuring worst-case scenarios.

Once Nolan got to his apartment complex, he sprinted up dozens of flights of stairs thinking that they’d be faster than the elevator. However, coupled with his growing soreness from his earlier workout, each step on the stairs sent rays of pain through his legs and a regret for thinking the stairs would be a good idea.

After it felt like he had run a marathon, the hockey player finally reached his door. He frustratingly searched for his keys, hoping to god you were okay.

Nolan swung the door open with so much force that he was almost sure he’d have to tighten the screws on its hinges. “Y/N?” Nolan called. His frantic eyes searched for your figure, but he was instead met with the sight of his roommate.

“You just missed her,” Kevin replied from the kitchen. In his hand was what looked like a cookie, and behind him was at least three grocery bags. “I told her to stay because I figured you’d be home soon, but she seemed like she was in a rush. Something about a paper she had,” Kevin elaborated, his mouth full of the cookies. “Did you run here from the rink or something? You look like shit,” Hayesy jokingly noted.

Nolan rolled his eyes at his roommate and sighed, genuinely relieved to know that you were alright. As soon as any of the fears of you being hurt left his system, Nolan started thinking about how he would’ve been able to see you had Travis not persuaded him to run extra drills. It had felt like centuries since he last saw you, and seeing you even just for a second would have undoubtedly made his day better. Dammit, Travis.

Deciding he didn’t want to endure any of Kevin’s teasing, Nolan suppressed his disappointment and tried to subtly get more details out of his roommate.

“She didn’t text me about coming over. What did she need?”

“Well, after making fun of us for our empty fridge and pantry, she said gave me all of these bags,” Kevin gestured to the bags behind him. “Said she visited a grocery store nearby and figured she could get some stuff for us, too,” he continued.

A smile graced Nolan’s face as he recalled the conversation you and he shared about his grocery shopping (or lack thereof) habits.

“She also brought over these cookies she made, but I think I’m gonna have to take these for myself,” Kevin grinned, reaching for another cookie from the tupperware container. “Why do my ‘just-friends’ never bake me cookies?” he nearly moaned at the taste of the treats.

“Maybe because you have no restraint and eat cookies that are meant for your roommate, you jerk,” Nolan remarked.

“Hey, I was being nice by telling you she brought these cookies over. If I really wanted to, I could’ve hid these. You can have a bite, though,” he stuck out his already half-eaten cookie in front of Nolan’s face.

Flipping Kevin off, Nolan walked over to the counter with the bags. Pulling out their contents, he slowly started placing everything in the pantry and fridge. In the second bag, he found a box of cheez-its with a small piece of paper tacked on the top.

Doing you a favor by buying you these, no need to thank me. Miss ya lots <3

Under the message, your name was messily etched onto the lined paper along with a smiley face. Nolan could almost hear your feigned-snarkiness through your note.

Once all of the groceries were put away, Nolan returned to his room. He immediately plugged in his phone before pressing your name under his FaceTime contacts. It only took a couple of rings before you picked up. Your hair was in a loose ponytail, large glasses covering your face. You looked exhausted from the stress you were undoubtedly experiencing because of your soon-to-be-due paper, but your positive personality radiated through Nolan’s phone screen nonetheless.

“Should I feel guilty that my snack collection was so pathetic that a busy college student felt compelled to take time out of their day to buy me food?” Nolan joked.

“I felt guilty that we had been friends for months before I found out that your pantry was that pathetic,” you laughed. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. I was in the area and I know you’ve been super busy recently so I figured I could help you out. The cheez-its were the first thing I saw in the store and I thought of you and that conversation we had when I came to your place for the first time,” you sheepishly responded.

Every few seconds, your eyes would dart back to your laptop, where you were taking notes. Nolan knew that you would never want him to think that he was calling you at a bad time, but the laptop’s reflections on your glasses gave away your act. Of course he felt bad, but he was momentarily distracted by the warm feeling that overcame him. It was such a sweet gesture, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t get butterflies at the sound of your confession.

“Y/N you didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it. Thanks for the cookies, too. Pretty sure Hayesy destroyed half of the container before I even got home,” Nolan laughed.

“Oh, gosh,” you started, “in hindsight I probably should’ve texted you to let you know I was coming over, but I wanted to surprise you.”

Upon hearing you words, Nolan’s beaming smile grew impossibly wider. And to his dismay, the butterflies came back for a second time.

“Hey, I gotta go but I promise I’ll text you soon. My prof is out for blood with this assignment,” you groaned. “Maybe we can do dinner at your place now that you have more than two things in your fridge.”

Nolan laughed off your banter and nodded in agreement. He felt like a giddy school girl. “Yea, yea of course. We can pick up on ‘How to Get Away With Murder’ while we’re at it.”

“It’s a date,” you flashed him a thumbs up. “Oh, and I think your shirt’s on backwards,” you giggled and tugged at the collar of your own sweater to emphasize your point. Luckily for Nolan, you hung up before you could see his embarrassed expression.

Had it not been for the fact that you called your upcoming plans with Nolan a “date,” he would have cared more about his shirt issue. But, here he was laying in his bed and already counting down the days until he’d get to see you again.

He knew you meant it as a friend date, but could you blame him for envisioning what it’d be like to go on a romantic date with you? He wanted to bake homemade cookies with you, run his fingers through your hair when you were stressed from school, and become consumed in pointless conversations about anything and everything with you. Hell, he even wanted to help you proofread your school papers, even if he’d have no idea what the fuck the Pygmalion Effect is. He adored so many things about you and was more than willing to jump through hoops and hurdles if it meant he could be your source of happiness and support.

And that’s when Nolan knew he was in trouble. He had never let his mind drift this far, and he usually had enough self-restraint to stop himself from envisioning you as his girlfriend. He knew he needed to stop before he dug a hole for himself that he wouldn’t be able to get out of. But if he was being honest, Nolan quite liked the warm feeling he had from the thought of calling you his.

Oh god.

Nolan was so far gone for you. Kevin knew it, his teammates probably knew it from the dozens of times he managed to bring you up in conversations, and now he certainly knew it for himself. What he didn’t know, however, was if you felt the same feeling of anticipation in the pit of your stomach at the thought of being more than just friends.

+ her

After your FaceTime call with Nolan, you finally gathered enough motivation to finish your paper. You weren’t sure if it was because of your excitement to see Nolan or because you were sick of staring at your screen, but you were nonetheless relieved when you sent off the finalized version of your work.

The two of you eventually settled on meeting at his place on Saturday night, which was only a couple of days away.

If you were being frank with yourself, you knew that you were catching feelings for Nolan, but how could you not? He has immaculate music taste, is a great listener, and always knows the best ways to make your off-days better. Not long after you met him for the first time, you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long for you to want a more-than-friends relationship with him. In fact, it was frightening to acknowledge how much better your life has been now that Nolan is involved. You were a little embarrassed that he was able to sweep you off your feet as quickly as he did, but you couldn’t control how you felt. Well, that’s at least what you kept telling yourself.

You weren’t entirely sure how to deal with your feelings for Nolan. You relied on familiarity and stability in your life, and if Nolan didn’t reciprocate your feelings towards him, there was no doubt all hell would break loose — at least for you. Per every rom-com you’ve ever watched, you were fully aware that unrequited feelings, in most cases, was a one-way ticket to a doomed and awkward friendship. If confessing your feelings towards an indifferent Nolan meant that your friendship with him would be jeopardized, you would gladly keep your thoughts to yourself.

It was hard, though. Sometimes he treated you like you were the only person in the room, and other times, it felt pretty clear that he only saw you in an extremely platonic light. Of course none of your friends could tell the difference between your interactions with the centerman because they always teased the two of you about needing to finally date each other. However, his mixed-signals convinced you that you had a chance with him on some nights and that you were overthinking everything the next.

As much as you wanted to tell Maya about your dilemma, you knew that she was terrible at keeping secrets. In any other circumstance, you would’ve told her that you liked someone the minute you found out. However, considering how her boyfriend’s a teammate of Nolan, it would have been game over if Joel knew. As much as he prided himself on having a tighter seal on secrets than Maya, he wasn’t much of an improvement from your best friend. You considered telling your other friends because you desperately needed someone to vent-out your feelings to, but you didn’t have the energy to explain how you ended up being wrapped around the fingers of a Philadelphia Flyers player.

So, here you were, in bed and confused. You were counting down the days until you’d get to see Nolan again, but you also wish you had more time to figure out what to do about your feelings. Part of you told you that you could handle pushing away your emotions for the few hours you would be with Nolan. The other (and more obnoxious) part of your brain, though, sent blaring red sirens through your body at the thought of your Plan A. It warned you that internalizing your feelings was a terrible idea and that no matter how tempting it would be to pretend like you weren’t falling for Nolan, maybe it’d be better to just rip off the bandaid and tell him.

You went back and forth between your two plans and were sure that if anyone could take a look into your brain, they would be faced with thoughts that were racing around at a million miles per hour. (And they’d probably  have pity on you.)

As if someone was witnessing your inner turmoil fetter within you in real time, it seemed like your prayers for more time were answered when you fell ill with a cold Saturday morning.

Sure, it wasn’t ideal. You sure as hell were not enjoying your congestion and occasional chills, but at least you had plenty of time to sort things out. It was disappointing to know that you wouldn’t get to see Nolan, but he was extremely understanding of your issue. He reassured you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for bailing, especially since you were sick. He even made you promise that you would get plenty of rest and that you wouldn’t apologize for something you couldn’t control.

With those words from Nolan, you took your promise to heart and slipped into a much-needed slumber.

+ him

“So, Patty, care to explain to Teeks what you were planning to use these candles for?” Hayesy teased as he plucked a tealight candle from its spot on the kitchen table.

Kevin knew you and Nolan had made plans for dinner, and he also happened to know that Nolan finally came to terms with his feelings for you. As much as he chirped the younger hockey player, he was glad that Nolan wasn’t beating around the bush anymore. Kevin adored you and had no doubt that you were a perfect match for his friend.

Travis, on the other hand, looked extremely confused. With furrowed eyebrows, he shifted his focus from the television to Nolan, who was sending death glares at his roommate.

“Well, I, um-” Nolan was cut off by Kevin.

“Patty here was gonna have a super-romantic, candle-lit dinner with the girl he’s been pining over for ages,” Kevin excitedly cut to the chase. If a bystander didn’t know any better, they’d think that Kevin was more ecstatic about the dinner than Nolan.

Those words definitely caught Travis’ attention. He got up from his spot from the couch and joined his two friends in the kitchen. “Wow, Pats,” he playfully shoved his friend's shoulder, “took you long enough. Was fully convinced I was gonna have to do something about your weak game.”

Nolan’s eyes widened upon hearing TK’s comments. Was he really that obvious?

He could barely comprehend his feelings for you just a couple of days ago, and he definitely didn’t tell Travis about these newly-discovered feelings yet. He didn’t even plan to tell Kevin about it. He fully intended to have you be the first to know, but Kevin managed to get Nolan to crack.

“Ok, fuck off,” Nolan mumbled. Sure, he was a little slow at realizing his feelings, but better late than never. “Y/N was supposed to come over for dinner tonight, but she’s sick,” Nolan explained. He purposefully left out the fact that he was toying with the idea of confessing his feelings for you after the now-cancelled dinner.

“Oh shit,” Travis was the first to speak up.

“Does that mean you’ll be cooking for us instead?” Kevin added, wiggling his eyebrows towards Nolan and fist-bumping Travis.

“No, I don’t know what it means, but I can tell you right now that there is no way in hell I’m cooking for you two slobs.” Nolan replied. “I was thinking of bringing soup over to her place as a surprise or something.”

At that, both Travis and Kevin’s faces told Nolan that they needed him to elaborate.

“What? She told me that she was craving soup, and Maya is on that road trip with Joel so I figured…” Nolan’s voice gradually decreased in volume.

Travis was the first to interject, “I, for one, think that’s a great idea. Gotta roll with the punches, you know?”

Of course, no conversation between the three guys would be completed without Kevin’s incessant teasing. “We can barely tolerate you when we’re fully healthy — what makes you think Y/N is gonna want to see you while she’s sick?” he chuckled.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Nolan groaned.

“You know you love me,” Hayesey playfully blew a kiss in Nolan’s direction. “Here, let TK and me help you with the soup. We gotta make sure it doesn’t make Y/N feel worse than she already does,” he suggested.

+ him & her

Staying true to his words, Kevin made sure Nolan’s attempt at making homemade soup went smoothly. After getting a thumbs-up from both of his teammates, Nolan filled some soup containers up and headed over to your place. He opted out from texting you about his arrival just in case you were sleeping and banked on the possibility that you still had a spare key under the small flower pot in front of your door.

Although Nolan nagged you for the key placement and insisted that it was a terrible hiding place for a key, he was grateful that it was still there when he arrived to your apartment’s door. Quietly letting himself in, he set the soup on the kitchen island before softly calling your name.

He quietly treaded to your room, which he’d only been in twice out of the dozens of times he had come over. Once he poked his head into your bedroom, he couldn’t stop his heart from overflowing with adoration for you. You were swaddled in a mountain of pillows and blankets. Your soft snores flowed through the room, and your messy hair partially covered your content face. You looked like you were at peace, and Nolan was glad to see that you were resting up.

The sight of you filled him with joy and he silently thanked his past-self for not calling and waking you up. Snapping himself out of his trance, Nolan had to remind himself that he was probably being extremely creepy. You probably wouldn’t let him live it down if you caught him, and he knew he wouldn’t have any excuse for his compromising position. Well, other than the fact that he was hopelessly falling for you and that everything you did made his feelings for you increasingly clear.

With it being close to dinnertime, Nolan figured that it wouldn’t be much longer until you woke up. He returned back into the living space of your apartment and found a comfortable place on the suede couch as he waited.

Sure enough, 15 minutes later, you emerged from your bedroom. “Nolan?” you softly murmured. The two syllables were coated in drowsiness, and Nolan swore he would’ve done anything to hear you utter his name like that again.

He looked up from his phone and suddenly had to remind himself how to breathe.

You were wrapped in a wool blanket, but a sliver of your sweater peaked out from the part where your blanket couldn’t fully cover. He’d recognize the black and orange pattern anywhere, but what stuck out to him was the “19” that was spread across the corner of your sweatshirt. Well, it was actually his sweatshirt if he wanted to get technical. His heart was beating out of his chest at the sight of you wearing his clothes and if he wasn’t sure if he was falling in love with you before, he was definitely sure now.

“I-, hi, Y/N. M’sorry for coming over like this, but I knew you said you wanted soup, and my mom has the really great chicken noodle soup recipe, and Teeks and Hayesy even helped me even though I’m not really sure if that was the best idea because Teeks almost mistook cinnamon for cayenne but-” Nolan started to ramble. He wasn’t sure why he was so flustered. It was the first time he’d gone out of his way this much for a girl and he was subconsciously stalling just in case you might’ve perceived his act of kindness as something that was way too creepy and something that supposed just-friends don’t do.

“Nols,” you started, “that’s so sweet of you, but you didn’t have to do that! I could’ve just sent for an UberEats so you wouldn’t have had to go through all of that trouble for me.”

Nolan wanted to stop you and let you know that he’d swim across the Atlantic Ocean for you. However, he settled for something a little less revealing. “Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise I wanted to do this. Plus if I didn’t, how would I have gotten to see you wearing my number?” he smirked.

Your gaze slowly descended to your body, where you were in fact wearing Nolan’s sweater. He forgot to take it home the last time he was over at your place, and you couldn’t help that it looked extremely comfy. A rush of blood and warmth flooded through your face. “I started wearing it because I missed you and it smells like your cologne,” you cringed for including that last detail, “but it’s actually so soft and I don’t think I’ll be returning this,” you tightened the blanket around you to emphasize your point.

Were you trying to kill Nolan? His brain was overloaded with emotions and this was probably the nail in the coffin. This was it for him. In the few seconds following your explanation, he knew he’d do everything in his power to get to see you like this for the rest of his life. He was sure a younger version of himself would’ve laughed at him for being so dramatic, but he also knew that his younger-self hadn’t met you yet.

“You pull off the sweater better than I do, so you can keep it,” he cheekily smiled. His eyes couldn’t decide if they’d rather look at your sleep-pampered face or his sweatshirt that engulfed you.

“What rom-com movie did you pull that line from?” you chuckled.

He dramatically gasped, “I’m truly offended.” He also took note of how you’ve been standing in the same place for minutes, “Also, why are you standing so far away? Promise I don’t bite,” Nolan joked while he reached out in your direction with grabby hands.

“I don’t wanna get you sick. Don’t know how your coach would feel if you caught the cold with the season so close,” you reasoned with a playful tone.

“That’s a later problem. Please c’mere, I missed you too much,” his eyes pleaded with yours. How could you say no when he had that look on his face?

You hesitatingly approached Nolan, still trying to keep your distance from him. You genuinely didn’t want to get him sick, but you were also still deciding about whether or not you wanted to bury away your feelings for him or let him know what was on your mind. You weren’t expecting Nolan to come over, and you were now wishing that you spent some of your snooze time on sorting out your Nolan dilemma.

Taking a few strides forward, you reached the coffee table that was only a meter or so away from Nolan. Apparently that distance was still too far for Nolan, though, because he grabbed for your hand and tugged you into his body. His scent instantly overcame your senses and you promptly relaxed into his hold. Your body was awkwardly positioned over his but his tight grip on you, which shifted down to your hips, gave no sign that Nolan wanted you to get off of him. With this signal, you repositioned yourself so each of your legs found a home on either side of his lap. His arms wrapped around your body, and your chest was pressed against his as you nuzzled your head between the junction of his neck and shoulder.

For a while, neither of you said anything. It was a serene moment and truthfully, neither of you needed to exchange words to express how much you both cared for one another. There was no better way to make up for lost time than to fully appreciate the other’s presence, and neither of you were in a rush to get out of the situation that you two were in.

Occasionally, Nolan would pepper kisses along your hairline and twirl your hair along his fingers. Praying that you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating, he tried his best to calm the thoughts that were incessantly running through his mind. Nolan never wanted this delicate moment to end for multiple reasons. Perhaps the biggest reason, though, was because he was trying to formulate the right way to tell you how he felt about you. He wasn’t sure if he’d find a more perfect time than this one, and he wanted to make sure that everything he was going to say to you would properly express how much he cared for you and wanted you in his life as a more-than-friend.

Another few moments passed before he finally mustered up the courage to break the silence.

“I love you,” he breathed out.

He waited for your response, but was only met with a deafening silence. Unfortunately for Nolan, he never got to see your reaction to his confession because your drowsy state seemed to pull you into another sleeping trance just as quickly as Nolan spoke the three words.

+ her

Following the night that Nolan had come over to bring you soup, the two of you became a lot more physically affectionate. Whether it was cuddles on your couch or hugs that lingered for a little too long, you knew you were chartering into dangerous territory. You didn’t treat any of your guy friends in the same way you did Nolan, and somewhere along the road, you knew this shift in dynamic was precariously dancing between the line of platonic and romantic.

Maya and Joel picked up on it, too. Nearly every chance they got, the two attempted to get you or Nolan to finally confess that things had changed. They were never successful, however. Nolan would always brush off Joel’s inquiries and play off the situation. As for yourself, you ultimately decided to keep your feelings to yourself, too scared to lose the special connection you had with Nolan.

You had done a decent job of keeping your feelings locked away in the depths of your heart until the season opener for the Flyers.

Nolan had asked you to go, and as much as you would love nothing more than to root on your best friend, you were called into work at the last minute. You tried your best to see if any of your other co-workers could pick up the shift, but you were stuck watching the game from your phone as you begrudgingly got through your shift. You couldn’t forget the way Nolan’s excited expression fell after you told him you couldn’t make it and even though your shift was scheduled to end during the game’s third period, there was no way you would have made it to the Wells Fargo Center in time.

After your shift, you took out your phone and swiped through your friend’s SnapChat stories. Since Maya went to the game to support Joel, you had the apartment to yourself. Clicking on your best friend’s name on the app, you smiled as you watched the video that she’d put on her story. The Flyers clinched their first win for the season, and based on Maya’s story, it looked like everyone had gone to a nearby bar to celebrate. Despite the fact that her story was a video of Joel, that’s not what caught your attention.

Instead, it was the sight of a man in the background, his arms draped around a girl who was cozily perched upon his lap. His chin was resting on her shoulder, and you knew from the unmistakable rosy cheeks that the man was Nolan. Although the image lasted no more than a few seconds as the frame of Maya’s camera moved, you suddenly felt yourself become nauseous. Your fingers moved by themselves, torturing you as you watched the video over and over again to make sure you weren’t playing mind games on yourself.

You weren’t sure how to react. A mix of hurt and jealousy swarmed your body, sending shivers of confusion through it. You knew you had no right to be so upset. After all, Nolan and you never had a conversation about where you two stood. You two were still just friends — even though you’ve known for a while that your interactions with Nolan have meant much more to you than you’d let on. For all you knew, you could have been mistaking Nolan’s physical affection for something more. For all you knew, the physical affection never made Nolan’s heart beat race in the same way it did with yours.

Nolan wasn’t yours, but you so badly wish he were. You became increasingly frustrated at yourself for letting your heart believe that there was something more between you and Nolan. You knew you were playing a risky game — a game that you had just lost, because it became painfully apparent that Nolan only ever saw you as a friend. The video continued to play, though your clouded vision and mind drowned out its volume. A teardrop slipped down your heated cheeks and pattered onto your phone screen. You berated yourself with what-ifs, wondering if you could have done anything different to be able to call Nolan yours. Maybe it was never meant to be, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t beat yourself up over the situation.

Ditching your plans to immediately sleep after getting home from work, you made a beeline to the kitchen’s wine cabinet. You now let your tears run freely and let yourself drown in affliction. You didn’t even flinch when Maya and Joel entered the apartment, who both rushed to you with concern after they noticed your tear-splotched shirt and face that was swollen and red from crying.

Not used to seeing their typically calm and collected friend in such a state of disarray, the couple wasn’t quite sure how to approach the issue. For what felt like the first time in forever, you decided to be transparent with your thoughts. You had spent so long compartmentalizing your feelings that the need to let them out and the countless glasses of wine had you admitting your feelings for Nolan to the two. You didn’t want their pity, and you were thankful that they let you speak without interruption. Your words, though slurred, clearly explained how you felt foolish for falling for Nolan in the first place. You explained how your friendship with Nolan had evolved into something much more for you and how you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t love him as more than just a friend anymore.

At the end of your spiel, Maya and Joel shared a knowing look with each other. Maya looked like she was fuming, though she tried her best to maintain composure as she pulled you into a hug. You almost missed the way Joel cursed under his breath, calling Nolan an idiot. They were so sure Nolan had felt something towards you, and weren’t sure how to respond when you drunkenly asked what you did wrong for Nolan to be oblivious to the way that you only had eyes for him.

As much as they loved Nolan, they adored you just as much and felt terrible for the pain that you were going through.

Apparently not terrible enough to postpone movie nights, however. Some time down the road, you, Nolan, Maya, Joel, Travis, and Kevin made a habit of gathering for a few hours each week to watch movies and hang out. You almost forgot about it in your moping state until Maya brought up a few days later that it was your and Maya’s turn to host. The blood drained out of your face when she reminded you, and your first instinct was to come up with an excuse to miss the night at all costs. You didn’t want to ruin the budding tradition, but you weren’t ready to see Nolan either.

As much as it hurt to still be in contact with Nolan, the thought of cutting him off hurt just as much. So, you subjected yourself to the heartache of talking to someone as if you weren’t enamored with. After the night of your break down, Nolan tried texting and calling you as usual. Although you weren’t ignoring him, you kept your texts brief and the phone calls even shorter. You felt bad for creating a wall between you and Nolan, especially since he wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He often asked what was on your mind, but you typically brushed it off and churned out a half-true excuse about being busy with school before cutting your conversations with him short.

Maya understood your discomfort with the situation, and offered to call off the movie night. You quickly objected, not wanting to ruin the night for the others just because you were battling your own demons. You told her that the movie night could go on at your shared apartment, and that you would find something to keep you out of the house for a while.

Your escape from the apartment came in the form of Austin, a boy from your psych class. Although you two didn’t speak to one another much, his kind eyes and bashful smile always led you to gladly agree whenever he’d asked to sit in the open spot next to you in the lecture hall.

One day, after you offered your notes to him for a day he missed, he offered to take you out for dinner in return. Although you were hesitant at first, you couldn’t think of any cons that would weigh out the opportunity for a free meal and spending a few hours with the charming boy. Plus, he had mentioned that he was a transfer student from out of state, and you knew how much you would have appreciated a few friends from school when you first moved to the city. Ultimately agreeing to his proposition, you gave him your number and scheduled the dinner for the same night and time as the movie night.

When the night of your plans with Austin came around, you made sure to leave your apartment before the guys were coming over. Because you felt guilty for skipping on the movie night, you attempted to help Maya set up the snack. However, Maya insisted that you shouldn’t keep Austin waiting and that she could handle the food herself. When you told her about Austin, she was ecstatic for you. She knew how difficult the past week has been for you and nearly screeched with excitement when you told her that you had actual plans for the weekend.

She gave you a hug and reminded you to call her if you were in an emergency before practically pushing you out of the door.

+ her

The night with Austin went better than planned, and you genuinely enjoyed yourself. Not wanting to give Austin any false impressions, you made sure that the night was strictly platonic. Luckily for you, Austin was incredibly understanding. Although you didn’t miss the look of slight disappointment on his face when you told him that you weren’t interested in being anything more than friends, he respected your decision and upheld his offer for dinner.

Quickly, you found out that you two had a similar sense of humor. Austin was easy to talk to and eventually, you opened up to him about Nolan. You nearly apologized for doing so — you weren’t planning to drop your baggage on a boy that you barely knew. However, Austin was surprisingly good at giving advice and even recounted some of his own stories about unreturned feelings. It was nice to be able to talk to someone that could relate to you.

Knowing that Nolan was at your apartment, Austin suggested that you two get dessert and explore the city to make sure that the hockey player would be gone before you got home. At first, you turned down his idea, jokingly arguing that he didn’t have to spend his whole Saturday night with you out of pity. In spite of your protests, Austin promised that he wanted to continue spending time with you and didn’t mind the idea of getting ice cream.

You didn’t return home until it was nearly midnight. You were sure that the boys would have already headed home, since they had a morning skate the next day.

Opening the door, you were shocked to see that everyone was still in the apartment, eyes occupied on the Marvel movie on the television. Your eyes immediately landed on Nolan’s figure, and you contemplated your next actions.

Settling on trying to go unnoticed by the group, you tried your best to discreetly enter your home and head to your room. With everyone's backs turned away from you, you almost made it to your room safely.

You were so close until your keys loudly fell onto the floor as you tried to remove them from the lock. Instantly, everyone’s heads turned to the front door. Someone turned on the living room’s lights, and you became uncomfortably aware of everyone’s attention on you.

You flashed them a smile, and Maya was the first to speak.

“How was your date?” she slyly questioned, making sure that everyone in the room heard her.

You raised an eyebrow at her question. Maya knew that the night with Austin wasn’t a date. However, the way she glanced at Nolan reminded you that he and the other guys, for that matter, didn’t know that. Not wanting to entertain whatever plan she was brewing in her mind, you tried not to acknowledge her question, flashing her a nervous smile.

“You ditched us for a date?” Travis gasped incredulously, clenching his hand above his heart for the added dramatic effect.

“Is that why the cookies were weird? I knew something was wrong with them when I nearly broke a tooth trying to eat one,” Hayesy laughed as an embarrassed Maya threw a pillow in his direction. You chuckled along with the joke, knowing that you should’ve stuck around to help her bake them. You made sure to promise not to miss the next movie night and even reassured Kevin that you would make a fresh batch of cookies just for him next time.

As Joel chimed in with the others about your “date,” Nolan remained oddly quiet.

His body language was stiff, and his eyes were mostly glued to his lap. He was playing with his fingers and refused to look you in the eyes. He almost looked uncomfortable, his smile forced whenever someone made another funny remark. Although everyone seemed oblivious to it, you couldn’t help but notice the way Nolan was biting the inside of his cheek. It was a habit that you noticed before, but you usually only ever saw him do it when he was in deep concentration or thought. You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt to see that Nolan didn’t even acknowledge your presence. Of course he didn’t owe you anything, but your heart didn’t necessarily know that.

You didn’t want to overanalyze anything, though. So, after chuckling at their comments, you headed to your room to remove your makeup and change into the oversized tee shirt and lounge shorts that you had been looking forward to changing into ever since you left the apartment.

“Calling it a night already?”

Upon hearing the question, you nearly had to do a double take. It was the first time you had heard Nolan’s voice all night. The lack of inflection in his voice transformed the previously light-hearted atmosphere thick with tension.

“Um, yea. It’s been a long night and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open,” you curtly responded with the first excuse that you could come up with, continuing en route to your room without sparing Nolan another glance. You gave everyone in the living space a small wave before you slipped into your room.

Although your reasoning was partially true, you didn’t know if you could handle being so close to Nolan at the moment. The two of you had gotten used to snuggling up together during movie nights and with your current emotional disarray, you didn’t want to put yourself in the position where you had to pretend like you weren’t still hurt at the thought of Nolan not seeing you in the same light that you saw him. And, regardless of how idiotic Nolan’s teammates could act at times, you knew they were pretty observant — especially when it came to you and Nolan’s complex friendship. If you decided to join in on the movie night but sit in any seat that wasn’t next to Nolan, they'd undoubtedly pick up on it.

Even though you thought your excuse was enough to get by your attentive friends, everyone in the room —bar Nolan— exchanged knowing looks with each other after once they heard the lock of your doorknob click into place. They knew how much you loved movie nights and how you were usually a night owl, regardless of how busy your day was. In fact, it was usually you that begged for an extra movie to be played when everyone was ready to call it a night.

More importantly, they knew you had a soft spot for Nolan. They weren’t ignorant to the way you’d sprint through hoops and hurdles to spend time with Nolan, mostly because they noticed how Nolan would go great lengths to see you, too. It had been a while since you last saw Nolan, and they figured that you would jump on the chance to be in your best friend’s presence again. Of course Maya had to play along, pretending as if she didn’t know why you were avoiding Nolan.

Even though Nolan was a little more subtle with his actions and words, it was no secret that Nolan missed you. His question from earlier was his way of asking you if everything was alright and if you wanted to spend time with him, and your deflection to his implied questions told everyone what they needed to know.

They weren’t quite sure what was going on between you and Nolan, but they knew things weren’t the same as they used to be.

Noting the way Nolan’s shoulders sunk after you disappeared into your bedroom, Maya was the first to rise from her seat. The mood of the night quickly became awkward after Nolan’s short-lived interaction with you, and Maya had no intention of having to sit through another hour of the movie if it were going to be this uncomfortable. She also hoped to talk to you before you actually went to sleep.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head to bed, too. I have to pick up an early shift tomorrow,” she explained as she gathered her blankets from the couch. “You’re staying the night, right?” she asked Joel.

Painfully aware of the newfound tension, her boyfriend silently nodded and helped Maya bring the rest of the throw pillows and blankets.

“You all can finish the rest of the movie,” Maya nodded towards Nolan, Travis, and Kevin. “Just lock up on your way out once it’s over. There should be a spare key under the flower pot outside.” Waving to the guys in the living room, Maya tugged Joel into her room and shut the door.

And then there were three.

+ him

Nolan’s jaw was beginning to ache from how hard he was clenching his teeth together. He didn’t know how to take in the rollercoaster of emotions that he had been feeling for the past few days. He wasn’t oblivious to the barrier that seemed to build up between you and him, but he didn’t know how that wall formed in the first place, let alone how to get over it.

He thought the past few days had been rocky, but he was certainly not prepared for his heartstrings to be pulled into so many directions tonight.

Nolan was looking forward to seeing you in person and was more than disheartened to hear that you were out for the night after he awkwardly asked Maya about your whereabouts. Your roommate didn’t go into the specifics of why you were missing out on the movie night, so he was left to his own devices to figure out where you were.

Of course he could’ve texted you, but given your erratic reply rates as of late, he resorted to refreshing his SnapChat and Instagram apps every once in a while to see if you were posting about where you were spending your weekend night.

Nolan wanted to understand why there was a strain in the relationship and more than anything, he needed your reassurance to know that everything was alright. He partly thought you were distancing yourself from him because he had made his feelings for you too obvious and you didn’t see him in that same way. The theory wasn’t even farfetched. His friends always made fun of him for being so whipped for you, and Nolan knew that you hated letting others down. Throughout his friendship with you, he had quickly learned that you would much rather deal with the brunt of someone else’s problems than to let them down. The thought of you distancing yourself from Nolan just because you only saw him as just a friend hurt Nolan, and he needed to let you know that he’d much rather deal with his feelings being unreciprocated than to have you fade away from his life.

Nolan also thought that he said something wrong and made you upset. However, after replaying all of the conversations he had with you leading up to your new treatment towards him, he didn’t know what he would have said that would have made you this indifferent to him.

Your social media gave no hints as to what you were doing, so Nolan let his imagination run wild with all of the reasons why you would’ve skipped movie night, especially when you were usually so excited about them.

When you entered the apartment a few hours after his arrival, Nolan felt his heartbeat begin to thrum as loud as a kick drum. All of the hypothetical situations that were previously occupying his mind were now invaded with thoughts about how good you looked. Nolan recognized the denim jacket you were wearing as the one that you had gotten a few months ago. He had just finished an afternoon practice when you FaceTimed him and couldn’t contain your excitement about finding the “most perfect article of clothing” you’ve ever owned. Although Nolan chirped you for driving so far away just for a jacket, the ecstatic expression on your face that day was one he’d never forget. It was also one that he so desperately craved to see for the rest of his life.

Just as quickly as he was brought out of his slump from seeing you, he was rudely pulled back down to reality after Maya asked you about your date. Needless to say, the warmth that filled his heart left as quickly as it had entered. Jealousy consumed Nolan, and he was momentarily blinded by a pain that he couldn’t quite describe.

As his friends joke around with you, Nolan struggled comprehending the thought of you with another guy. He had no right to be upset, really. Not when he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell you how he felt and especially not when your eyes were twinkling with so much elation.

Throughout the friendship Nolan had developed with you, you never mentioned that you were going on dates or seeking relationships. The hopeless romantic in him let him believe that maybe, just maybe, you were saving your heart for the right person. For him.

However, the breathy chuckle you released after Maya’s question shattered any amount of hope that Nolan had built up. Now, instead of butterflies, Nolan’s stomach was filled with a piercing ache. As if he wanted to punish himself more for not being more vocal about his feelings for you, Nolan attempted to ask you to join the movie night. Sure, maybe he wasn’t exactly direct with his words, but he was hoping you’d pick up on his hint. Nolan shouldn’t have been so surprised when you decided to go to your room instead of joining him and the others, but the already-tense coil in his stomach continued to tighten.

After you went to your room, followed by Maya and Joel, Nolan looked at the remaining people in the room.

“We’re sorry, Pat,” Travis was the first to speak. His words were laced with sympathy, knowing how much his friend was head over heels for you.

Moving from his seat to stand over his younger teammate, Kevin rose from the couch and rubbed Nolan’s shoulder. “Let’s head home, yea?” Kevin attempted to dance around the topic of you.

“I’ll meet you two in the car. Just need to clear my head for a bit,” Nolan muttered to his understanding friends.

Quietly, Travis and Kevin left the apartment, making sure to shut the door carefully as to not disturb their teammate.

+ him & her

Thinking you were in the clear after hearing the front door close, you left your room in hopes of making a mug of tea.

You felt bad for avoiding Nolan, but you didn’t know how else to deal with the thousands of thoughts that cycled through your brain.

To say you were unprepared to see Nolan in your living would be an understatement. His arms were propped on his knees and his face was cradled by his hands. His shoulders were slouched and his tousled hair looked as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

You weren’t sure if you should’ve just turned back around and locked yourself in your room, but your instincts beckoned you to come closer to Nolan. No matter how hurt you were, he was your best friend first and foremost. If there was anything you could do to bring him out of his clear distress, you would do it without a second thought.

“Nolan?” you meekly called out his name.

Nolan slowly moved his head just enough so he could hear the source of the sound. Unintentionally mimicking your facial expression, he looked just as stunned to see you. “Sorry, I thought you would’ve already been asleep. I was uh- I was just about to head out,” he timidly said.

“Stay as long as you need. I’ve been trying to sleep but didn’t have much luck, so I’m hoping tea will help. Haven’t been able to get a good sleep for a while now,” you explained while opening a kitchen cupboard for a mug.

“Me neither. Things haven’t felt right recently,” he sighed. After his statement, the apartment was eerily quiet. Neither of you wanted to say anything else, scared of stepping over any boundaries or maybe the situation even more awkward.

You’re not sure what gears clicked into place, but you felt compelled to finally tell Nolan what was on your mind. The guilt of ignoring him was eating away at you, and you felt like you at least owed your best friend an explanation as to why you needed space from him. After you dropped the tea bag into your mug, you walked back towards the living space to where Nolan was still sitting.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you started.

Nolan didn’t say anything, his eyes pleading with you to continue with what you were saying.

“I’m just gonna lay everything out because I know I’m not gonna be brave enough to do this on any other occasion,” you prefaced, making sure Nolan was paying attention to what you were saying. You were already embarrassed that you had managed to think that Nolan could ever like you, and you did not want to have to verbally explain your emotional affliction more than one.

“I don’t really know when, but I caught feelings for you. At first I wasn’t sure what to do about it, because everyone always warns about falling for your best friend and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us if you didn’t feel the same,” you continued with your explanation, eventually getting to the part where you saw Nolan and the girl on Maya’s story.

“It just sucked, y’know? I thought I was doing a good job of suppressing my feelings and then I saw that. Obviously it’s not like we were dating or anything and I never told you how I felt at the time, but having that confirmation that there wasn’t actually anything between us was like a kick to the gut.”

“I feel terrible for letting my feelings get in the way of our friendship and reading all of the signs wrong. I don’t wanna lose you because of this, and I’m really trying to get over my silly feelings becau-” you were cut off by Nolan.

“What if I don’t want you to get over those feelings?” he said while approaching the spot you were standing in.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure if you were hearing things right or if you were so sleep deprived that you were starting to make things up. “I-I’m not following,” you silently begged Nolan to continue.

“I liked you, too,” he confessed. “Well, I still like you. If I’m being honest, I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted all in one breath. “I thought it would be easier to try to get over you instead of dealing with the possibility of ruining our friendship just because I caught feelings,” he elaborated.

“Obviously it didn’t work, though. And I ended up messing up things between us anyway, so it really didn’t work,” he sighed with a hint of resignation in his tone. He wasn’t sure if he was referring to ruining the friendship, his chance of getting to call you his, or both. Upon that thought, Nolan became even more dejected after he was reminded about how you were just on a date a few hours ago.

Your head was spinning with each word. Every fiber in your body was consumed by joy, and you were now wide awake. Nolan was now only standing a few feet away from you. You still hadn’t replied to his confession, and you could tell that he was becoming increasingly nervous as he awaited your reaction. With that realization, you were drawn out of your thoughts. Your heart was lodged in your throat, and you knew that no words could articulate the words you wanted to tell Nolan, anyway.

With that, you closed the distance between the two of you. Your hands grabbed his and although he flinched a little bit, he welcomed your gesture and interlaced your fingers with him.

Going on your tiptoes to come a little closer to your face, you become hyper-aware of Nolan’s burning gaze. His face is painted with a light blush, and he’s biting the inside of his cheeks again.

“I hope this is okay,” is the last thing you whisper before you connect your lips to his.

Instinctively, Nolan’s hands pulled away from yours to find a home on your hips. He pulled you closer, attempting to deepen the kiss. The kiss was soft, reassuring, and everything in between. Nolan couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging on his lips, and had to pull away to make sure that this was actually happening.

He was met with your confused face, your eyebrows scrunched in the cutest way. His smile promptly turned into a smirk as you tried to pull him into a kiss, your shorter height causing you to barely graze the corner of his lips.

When Nolan released a chuckle, you started to become impatient. “What?” you questioned while narrowing your eyes towards the rosy-cheeked boy in front of you.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he cheekily asked.

“Only if I get a second kiss,” you said with gleaming eyes, fingertips grazing along his jawline. With those words, Nolan wasted no time fulfilling your wish and peppering your neck with dozens of chaste kisses.

The two of you were so consumed with the high of finally getting to hear the other admit their feelings that neither of you heard the sound of the front door violently swinging open.

“Patty, where the fuck are yo-” Travis called, immediately realizing the moment he was intruding on. “You know what, I think I’m just gonna head out. Have a good night!” he awkwardly chuckled, undoubtedly embarrassed. He sent the two of you a thumbs up before quickly shutting the door as if he never interrupted.

“Oh my god,” Nolan said, his head falling into your shoulder and arms wrapping around your body. “I forgot that TK and Hayesy were waiting for me to come down. It’s probably been like half an hour at this point,” his laugh rumbled through your bones.

“Stay the night?” you offered. “Maybe I can finally get more than four hours of sleep,” you laughed.

“Mm, sounds like a plan,” Nolan peppered kisses along your neck before scooping you into his arms and heading to your bedroom.

Although both of you knew that there would be a lot to talk about the following morning, neither of you wanted to disrupt the current state of bliss that both of you were in. You and Nolan’s hearts were finally intertwined, and for now, that was enough to engulf you in ease.

[willwriteforhugs]

ateez says “i love you” for the first time

ateez scenario - all members (individually) x reader

genre: fluff, angst if your vision is worse than 20/60

word count: 4k (total)

warnings: minor intrusive thoughts, some arguing and cursing 

a/n: this fic should be taken lightheartedly! i really enjoyed writing this, but please remember that it is for entertainment purposes only. also beware: some of these are a bit longer than others? please know that it wasn’t intentional lol (no writer’s bias here!) also, the gif above does not belong to me! thank you so much for reading <3

hongjoong: 

quiet, repetitive sound effects play through the outside of hongjoong’s headphones. you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. even when your boyfriend isn’t working, he’s working.

you’d been together two months already, but sometimes you worried. he was so busy, and you knew it wasn’t his fault... but you weren't sure how he really felt about you. for you, the first few dates had been butterflies-in-the-stomach, giggling-like-crazy, head-over-heels-for-this-man type emotions. but as you sit in his studio on this saturday night, you start to wonder if he’d ever felt those things.

you tilt your head to look at him. god, he’s beautiful. those long lashes that you would absolutely kill for, his curious eyes... everything about him screamed “love of your life!!!”

hongjoong shifts in his seat, glancing down at you. he smiles a little, and plants a small kiss on your temple. “ten more minutes, my love. i’m almost done.”

you smile and nod sleepily.

the ten minutes pass in relative silence, minus joong’s music, which was accompanied by the tapping of his foot. 

finally, he shuts his laptop. he stands up, returning to his desk to put everything back in order. you stay where you are, watching him.

after a moment, you stand up. “i’m gonna go heat up the car.”

he looks back at you, already protesting. “babe, you don’t need to do that. plus it’s late- i don’t want you out there all alone.”

“i’ll be okay, hongjoong. you know how cold that car will be.”

he holds your gaze for a moment. “alright.”

you turn to leave as he continues talking. 

“i’ll be out in just a minute, okay? i love you.”

you freeze, halfway out the door. your head swivels back, and your boyfriend is staring at you with wide eyes, clearly catching what he’d said.

“what did you say?”

he’d said it in passing. of course he loves you, the same way hongjoong loves everyone, why would he-

“i said i love you,” he sighs. he sets down his bag and crosses the room in large strides. he comes to a stop in front of you, and lifts his hands to cradle your face. “and i meant it. i do. i didn’t mean to tell you like that, but- yeah. i love you.”

your voice cracks when you finally manage to speak. “i love you, too.”

seonghwa:

the heels of your boots make angry clicking sounds on the floor of the apartment complex. tears prick at your eyes, and you increase your pace.

just get through the door, y/n. don’t you dare cry in public.

work had been awful, of course. apparently, you’d made a mistake while filing paperwork last week, and now the whole office was behind, scrambling to make up for lost time. learning about your slip up had been hard enough. being absolutely screamed at by your boss had pushed you over the edge. you had managed to finish your hours, but now, you practically sprint for the safety of your apartment.

you take the stairs two at a time, dignity long abandoned. when you get to your front door, your hands shake trying to unlock it. a sob tears through your throat. why, god? what did i do to you?

the door finally swings open, and you stumble inside. kicking off your shoes, you walk straight to the bedroom, where you sink to the floor and begin to cry. 

thump. 

you raise your head. what the hell was that?

thump.

a beat passes, then a voice from the other room: “hello? y/n, is that you?”

the door to your bedroom opens, and there he is. seonghwa, your boyfriend of only three months, stands in the doorway. upon seeing you, his face cracks.

“y/n? babe, what happened? i thought i heard you get home, are you okay?”

hearing your boyfriend’s concern only made you cry harder. frantic, he hits the floor next to you and tugs your hands away from your face. “talk to me. what happened?”

your voice is croaky and broken, but you manage to recap the story from work. by the end of it, seonghwa looks almost as emotional as you do.

“what a douchebag. who does he think he is?”

you reach out and gently swat at his thigh. “don’t talk all big.”

he manages a small smile. “i’m sorry, y/n. tell me what you need right now. let me help you.”

“can... can you just hold me?”

this is something seonghwa knows how to do. he crawls over to you and leans against the bed, hugging you tightly from behind. “yes, i can do that.”

a beat passes.

“you know i love you, right?”

your heart skips a beat. he’d never said that before, not like this. but you don’t say anything. you reply by sinking deeper into his hold, letting out a long sigh. 

he understands.

yunho: 

“okay, seriously. where are we going?” you look over at your boyfriend, feeling the edges of anxiety begin to creep in. 

yunho, who’s seated at the wheel of the car, looks over at you, his eyes crinkling slightly. a smile tugs at his lips. “why are you worried?”

you huff and slouch back in your seat. your seat belt digs into your shoulder, making you cringe. “i’m not worried.” you lie. “i just want to know where you’re taking me.”

“well, i already told you- it’s a surprise.”

“yes, but-” you hold up your hand, counting on your fingers. “it’s not my birthday. it’s not your birthday. it’s not a holiday. it’s not our anniversary. so. what is it?”

yunho glances at you again, exasperated. “you are so difficult. just let me treat you, you dumbass.”

“treat me? yunho-ah, i swear to god-”

“don’t! it’s nothing big! now shut up- you’re on talking restrictions.”

you gape at him. “talking restrictions? i’m not a six year old-”

“oh look, we're here!” your counterpart shouts over you. he turns the vehicle and pulls into a parking lot you don’t recognize. you peer out the window, craning your neck in order to see the building in front of you. “is this a hotel?”

yunho hums a confirmation. “your bag is in the back.” 

- - - 

ten minutes later, you find yourself standing in what’s probably the nicest hotel room you’ve ever graced. you gape at your boyfriend, hoping he realizes how crazy he is.

yunho sees your expression and laughs, his hand instinctively rising to cover his teeth. “do you like it?”

you stutter, unable to hide your surprise. “i- yes, of course. but, yunho, you said it wasn’t anything big!”

he laughs again. “nothing’s too big for you, love.”

your face flushes. god, you love him. yes, he is a hopeless romantic, and yes, he says cheesy things. but you’d been in love with him for a while now, you think. since before he’d even asked you out. you’d always admired him from afar, but yes- you know it was love all along. 

“um. is there...a particular... reason? for this?” you manage. surely this isn’t as  random as it seems.

yunho crosses the room to stand with you, wrapping his long arms around you. you step back in surprise. “yunho-ah?”

he buries his face in your neck, inhaling. “yeah, i-yeah. i guess i just wanted to say-” he pulls away to meet your eyes. “i just wanted to say- to show that i love you.”

you blink, and say the first thing you think of. 

“thank you?”

yunho looks surprised for a moment- then bursts into laughter. you gasp, trying to backtrack. “wait- no- no i love you too,” you scramble.

yunho bends over, only laughing harder. “babe-” he says between wheezes. “that was so funny. i love you so much.”

you’re laughing too, now.

yeosang: 

your finger traces circles on the fabric of the couch, and you sigh contentedly. you glance to your left, gazing up at your boyfriend, who’s scrolling on his phone. you and yeosang are only a few months into your relationship, but nights like this already feel so natural.

but looking up at him now, you can’t help but feel that something’s a bit off. you sit up, brushing his arm away from you. “yeosang?”

he looks up at you, eyes wide and curious. “what?”

“are you alright?”

he looks a bit taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i don’t know, you just- you seem stiff. did something happen? or- was there something you needed to talk about?”

for a moment, he doesn’t answer. then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “you’ve gotten really good at reading me, you know that?”

you tilt your head. “sure, i guess? what did you need to talk about?”

“oh, it’s just- um- something i wanted to say...” his voice trails off.

you lean forward, worried. “what?”

you’ve known yeosang so long, but you have no idea where he’s going with this. what if he wants to break up? what if he wants to go to third base? do people even say ‘third base’ anymore? what if-

“it’s just. um.” he pauses again, even after interrupting your thoughts. “iloveyou,” he says in a rush. as soon as the words leave his mouth, yeosang’s face turns beet red. his expression twists into a grimace.

you feel your own face betray your surprise. “wait, what?”

he won’t meet your eyes, but your heart speeds up. “yeosang-yah, what did you say?”

he responds in a mumble. “i said i love you.”

you feel so many things at once, and you want to say a million things. you’d dated before, but no one had ever told you they loved you. you feel your eyes begin to burn from withholding tears. “yeosang.”

he looks up at you, his eyes begging for something more.

“i love you too.” you cut him off before he can ask. “and before you ask- yes, i’m sure.”

you reach forward, running a finger down the side of his face. “you dumbass.”

his eyes widen in mock anger. “dumbass!? i can’t even-” he grabs your waist and shoves you back on the couch. “i can’t believe you!”

you burst into laughter. “big words for a man who’s just confessed his love!”

san:

“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

you throw your hands in the air, exasperated.

san’s face flushes red. “well i don’t know what you want from me!”

your mouth drops open as he turns away. “no. no fucking way- you can’t walk in here and start a fight just to leave! you don’t know what you want from me? you started this!!”

your boyfriend turns to face you again. his eyes burn with barely controlled anger. “no- i wanted a civil conversation. you were the one who went and got all defensive.”

“san, you’re accusing me! how the hell am i supposed to respond?”

“i didn’t accuse you of anything. i asked you a damn question.”

“an accusatory question.”

san rolled his eyes with so much emotion it hurt to watch. you clench your hands. you couldn’t believe him. don’t misunderstand- you and san usually got along great, and the two of you had been in a steady relationship for a few months now. but san was so emotional- in a way you just weren't. you didn’t understand his emotional insecurities. so when he came home asking why you felt the need to ignore him in favor of your other friends- you couldn’t believe your ears. 

back in the moment, you make a groaning sound. “san-ah,” you begin, trying to keep your voice even. “i just don’t understand what makes you think all that.”

san is still upset, clearly. he scoffs, tossing his head. “please, y/n- you’re always making excuses to leave, it’s like you don’t even want to see me!”

“but that’s not true!”

“just the other night you went out with friends, when i specifically said i wanted to be with you!”

“but san- i hardly see them either! you know how busy i am-”

“i’m even busier than you are!” he argues.

“don’t cut me off!” you seethe. “besides, why is it any business of yours when i want to go out? i don’t-”

“of course it’s my business!” san steps closer, pointing down at your chest. “it’s my business because i love you!”

your words die in your throat. “i...what?”

he loves you? now? he’d never told you that before... 

what just happened?

san grimaces, and the anger leaves his face. his whole body seems to deflate.

 your own pulse seems to slow down, and you sigh. san runs a hand through his hair, looking away.

“y/n, i... i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to-” he cuts himself off, as if afraid of his own words. 

“san....”

“no, i’m sorry. i can’t believe i blew up like that.” he looks saddened as he takes a step towards you. his hand brushes your elbow, and you shut your eyes. 

you hear him whisper; “can i hold you?”

you nod, then practically melt in his arms. “i’m sorry, too.” you mumble into his chest. for a moment, the two of you just stand there, letting the embrace linger. 

“did...” you begin. “did you mean it? what you said?”

san pulls away to gaze into your eyes. he brushes a stray hair from your eyes. 

“yeah. yeah, i did. i’m sorry i told you like that.”

you pause. “it’s okay. i love you too, though.”

for the first time tonight, your boyfriend smiles.

mingi:

it’s snowing. and for the first time this season, too. you can’t help but grin as you watch the snow fall, face peeking through the curtains. 

“are you actually that excited?”

you turn to look mingi, your boyfriend, in the eye. “yes, yes i am. are you telling me you’re not?”

he smiles- a big, genuine smile, the one you’d grown to love more than anything. “no, i am. i’m gonna throw it at you, though. just a warning.”

you make a face, and turn back to the window. you and mingi had only been dating a few weeks, but you’d known each other much longer than that. though your relationship had only just begun, it felt like you’d been dating for years. 

many of your girlfriends had said the beginning of a relationship was- while being the most fun part- also the most stressful. there was supposed to be a lot of pressure. but you didn’t feel that way with mingi. you had kissed him only when you felt comfortable, you had met his family only when you felt comfortable... though you hadn’t slept together yet, you felt no rush. part of you wondered if you were doing something wrong, but mingi seemed happy too, so you tried not to overthink it.

the snow continues to fall in large chunks. after a few moments of peace, you hear an odd shuffling behind you. you turn around, and mingi is standing there, wearing a full winter parka, looking like he was about to pick you up. 

“dammit!” he curses. “i was gonna try to scare you.”

“ha-ha.” you deadpan.

“yeah, yeah. put this on.” he tosses your own coat at you, and gestures for you to hurry.

“hold on, you don’t actually want to go play in that, do you?”

“that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

you start to protest, but mingi cuts you off by snatching your coat back and zipping you in it himself. then he grabs you by the waist and drags you off the couch. 

after several minutes of wrestling, you find yourself outside in the cold, sitting on your butt in a snowbank. “oh, it’s on, you little-”

mingi laughs and runs away, then picks up an armful of snow and tosses it in your face. you blink in shock, and he doubles over, laughing even harder than before.

“song mingi! you have some nerve!”

the next 15 minutes consist of you and mingi trying to see how much snow you could force onto the other, along with the occasional laugh break.

finally, mingi collapses onto his back in the snow, breathing heavily. you plop down next to him, giggling. 

“i hate you,” you say between hiccups of laughter.

he turns and grins at you, before turning his face to the sky. “well, i love you.”

you catch his eye, unsure that you heard him correctly. “come again?”

“i love you!” he shouts at the sky, then rolls over to meet your gaze. before you can manage an answer, he leans over and presses his cold lips against yours.

wooyoung:

you take another deep breath, determined to keep your heart rate down. 

you are going to do fine. it’s just one interview...

oh, but you really want this job. what if you do terribly?

you shove the thought out of your head. you glance at the clock. 10:56. 19 minutes until you either do amazing or fuck up your entire career. you reach over and pick up your phone. you’d left early, so should you just try to kill the time?

you have a text. it’s from wooyoung, your boyfriend.

wooyoung: hey

wooyoung: if you see this before your interview call me 

you wonder what he could possibly need from you right now, but you hit dial anyways.

you and wooyoung were... a lot. for a while, you’d been in a “relationship that’s not really a relationship” type of thing... but he’d only officially asked you out a few weeks ago. you liked him a lot, actually. you loved how outgoing he was, and how much he seemed to care about you. and his friends were nice. plus, he was- well- not bad on the eyes.

he picks up on the second ring. “hey!”

“hi?” you ask. “was there something you needed?”

on the line, wooyoung fakes a gasp. “i can’t just talk to you whenever i want?”

“you asked me to call you.”

“whatever.”

you sigh, laughing a little.

“anyways,” he continues. “i just wanted to see how you were doing. i know you were worried.” your heart flutters at the thought that he was thinking of you now. but the interview...

“oh.�� your mind turns back to the event to come. “right. uh, i’ll be okay.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, wooyoung. i mean, i’m definitely nervous, and i can think of 1000 ways this could go wrong, but overall, i’m alright!”

your boyfriend laughs. “i know. really, i know you’ll do well. you’re one of the smartest people i know- they’d be fools to turn you down.”

- - - 

three hours later, you sit at your kitchen table, mindlessly picking at your lunch. across from you, wooyoung looks concerned.

“baby, is the food bad, or...?” 

you look up. “no! no, not at all! i’m just- i’m just not very hungry.”

wooyoung’s eyes crinkle with sympathy. “you’re nervous?”

yes. yes, of course. you have no idea how that interview went. but you were positive that the man in the grey suit hated your guts, even though-

“y/n-ah,” your boyfriend calls you back down to earth. “it’ll be fine. please eat.”

you shove some of the food into your mouth, more to satisfy him than yourself. suddenly, your cell phone rings. the sound makes you jump. you pull it out answering it automatically. “yes?” 

as the voice on the other end of the line talks, you nearly drop your chopsticks. wooyoung leans forward, trying to eavesdrop, and you shoo him away. 

a minute passes, and you slowly lower your phone as the woman on the line ends the call. your boyfriend is staring at you. 

“who was that?”

your voice is froggy. “wooyoung- i got the job.”

a beat passes, then he leaps up. “you- you did?!? i knew it! oh my god!” he grabs your wrists and yanks you out of your seat. he spins you in a frantic circle, ending it by slamming you into his chest, hugging you hard. 

“i knew you could do it, baby. wow, i love you so much.”

your heart skips a beat at these words, but wooyoung himself doesn’t seem to catch them- he keeps talking, because that’s just who he is. but you don’t miss it.

you know he meant it. 

jongho:

“boom! look at that one!” you laugh, fitting together another set of puzzle pieces. 

jongho, your boyfriend, glances over, letting a small smile escape his lips. “it’s upside down, babe.” 

you look back down at the pieces, realizing he’s right. 

“oops.” you giggle, flipping them upright. “i think they do go on the left, though.”

you’d been so excited for today. you had done nothing all morning, only being able to think about what you were going to do with your boyfriend later. nowadays, with ateez’s popularity, you had very little alone time with jongho. you’d only been dating a short while- but you still wanted to see him as often as possible.

so when he’d come up to your apartment holding a jigsaw puzzle, you immediately agreed to participate. you’d never been particularly good at puzzles, but jongho seemed to enjoy them. it’s the calm, you think. there’s a lot of chaos in his day to day job, so it’s really not surprising that he enjoys things like this. 

you watch his hands as they roam across the table, searching for edge pieces. 

he has such beautiful hands.

“oh, y/n-ah- can you hand me that one there? the blue?”

you hand him the cutout. “what is this supposed to be again?”

“uuh-” jongho hesitates, glancing at the discarded box on the floor. “an alaskan sunset?”

the two of you meet eyes, then look at the table. he bursts into laughter. “are we doing something wrong? alaskan sunset...” he manages.

god, his smile. you love his smile, probably more than anything. you didn’t see it too often- that full, gummy smile of his. your heart flutters as you watch him laugh.

he meets your eyes again. “how are we bad at this? it’s a puzzle!”

“well, it’s your puzzle, and it’s 2000 pieces! who willingly does 2000 piece puzzles?!” you begin to laugh too.

jongho’s chuckling ceases, and he reaches over to grasp your wrist. he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “i love to see you laugh like that.”

you feel your face burst into flames. you sheepishly try to pull your hand back. “jongho-yah...”

he smiles again and tugs you closer, placing his forehead against yours. for a moment, he just looks into your eyes, his own sparkling with curiosity and adoration. then he closes his eyes and leans in, pressing his warm lips against yours. 

the kiss is tentative, inviting. you lean into it, hoping he catches on. he does- he begins to kiss you harder, parting your lips with his own. this goes on for a moment before he pulls away.

you almost whine, wishing he hadn’t ended it so quickly. but looking at him, you can see his face is red, and he won’t meet your eyes. before you can truly wonder about his well-being, jongho comes in again, stopping just before his lips meet yours.

he looks down at the floor, his lips barely brushing yours. “y/n.”

you make a small “hmm?” noise.

his words come out in a low whisper. “i think i’m in love with you.”

you almost jerk back in surprise. but instead, you let a beat pass in silence. then you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his chin. “and i think i’m in love with you.”

<333

[greenninjagal-blog]

The Rumor Mill Game (pt4)

I swear I didn’t forget about this au. This chapter is just....long.

Welcome back to this mess of an au :) If you need a refresher, you can find Part Three [here!] Or if you’re new check out the first part [here!]

Summary: Logan is...dealing with the fallout of him and his coworker, Remus, having created a rumor about them being married and now apparently having a kid except not because Logan screamed at the top of his lungs that Virgil wasn’t his kid. His boss has a different definition for what “dealing” actually means. 

Words: 8292 (Holy shit remember when this au was 2k words)

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up like this.

Granted when he hadn’t exactly been expecting anything. He hadn’t been looking ahead, hadn’t been making plans, hadn’t been thinking at all. Which was most likely how he ended up outside the bar in the first place. 

Logan could, of course, count the number of times he had been drunk on one hand. College had been a time for experimenting, and of course for his twenty-first birthday his friends at the time had been insistent that he needed to imbibe an unholy amount of alcohol in one night. They had turned it into an experiment, where Logan documented exactly what he was feeling after each drink and he still had the notes in his desk at home, despite the fact that his handwriting had become illegible after the fifth drink and someone had spilled an orange soda based tonic on the third page. The notes themselves were worthless, but they served as a memoir to people who he no longer associated with and a younger version of himself who had still been learning.

And Logan did have a soft spot for that imbecile: Twenty-one-year-old Logan Ackroyd who still believed in the goodness of people and who wanted to change the world and who could fall in lov--

Logan pitied him-- that kid he used to be-- which he was certain that his younger self would be indignant about. Logan always did hate when people pitied him. Those emotions had rarely ever been genuine, rarely ever been helpful, rarely been productive. What was he to do about people feeling bad for him? About others being disappointed? About others making assumptions about him and how he felt?

He didn’t need pity, and he didn’t want it. Not when he got rejected to his first three colleges, not when flunked that English class and had to pay to retake it the next year, not when he had bought that ring and gotten down on one knee and made a whole carefully edited speech and--

And he’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with these types of thoughts. Or any thoughts for that matter. Wouldn’t it just be great to stop thinking? 

Then he wouldn’t have to remember the looks on his coworkers faces when he storming into the office less than fifteen minutes after initially leaving for lunch and demanded that Beatrice turn in her overdue spreadsheets in twenty minutes or he’d have her fired before slamming his office door hard enough to crack that frosted glass, or the look on Remus- fucking- Prince’s face when he tried to act like everything that had happened was not his fault and that Logan had taken the game to far by himself without any sort of prompting from Remus, or the look on Virgil’s face when Logan lost his self control.

Like an idiot. Like an asshole. Like someone who doesn’t think before he acts.

Like someone who should be alone for the rest of his life, because he can’t seem to get a hold of those useless emotions of his. 

And Logan wanted so very badly to blame Remus Prince for this whole endeavor, the whole production, the whole catastrophe. He wanted to say that without Remus he never would have gotten that angry, wouldn’t have had that conversation, wouldn’t have even gotten Thai today. 

Logan wanted to say that, but really it's his own fault. If he had just dismissed Remus’s rumor in the beginning, if he had just told Jen and Quin that his personal business was his own, if he had just ignored the urge to get coffee and finished the spreadsheets without getting up that last night.

His fourth finger itched around the base, the area where that little silver ring had been sitting for less than a day. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, because Logan had never worn a ring before and now suddenly the absence of it caused his skin to crawl in a most unpleasant, unproductive way. 

Distantly Logan realized that by gifting Remus such a wonderful present, he had also thrown away four hundred dollars. And perhaps ironically Logan noted that he feels annoyed about it-- four hundred dollars had been sitting in a pocket of a dress jacket in the corner of his office for over nine months and he had tossed it aside in a fit of impulsive anger.

Logan had not been hurting for money recently, with how decently he was paid, and the amount of overtime he worked, and how little time he had taken off since that disastrous night.

But perhaps he might have been able to return it to the jewelers and weathered the terrible, awful pitying looks they would give him when he requested about their refund policy or a location where he might be able to sell it himself. It was a ring that was worth four hundred dollars and he had given it to Remus, and isn’t it funny that that’s farther than he got with the one for whom the ring had been originally intended?

And as Logan downed his next rum and coke of the night, he hoped that Remus found a better use for it. Newton knows it hadn't done any good for Logan. 

(Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that he had screeched “He’s not and never will be our son!” Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that Remus had hummed mischievously “I think I enjoy being fake-married to you, Logan." Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the the way his last partner had said “We should see other people”. Its stupid, stupid, stupid--)

“Hmmm,” A voice behind him said, “I thought I would find you here!”

Logan didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he heard the voice and felt every atom in his body figuratively threaten to combust. He wasn’t drunk enough to be thinking about him, and he most certainly wasn’t drunk enough to turn and look at the incessantly, perky man that had decided to sit down next to him.

Logan waved at the bartender and ordered another rum and coke and watched his freshly emptied glass disappear like the handful of others he didn’t bother to keep count of.

“And I’ll have two waters, please!” Patton Hart added with one of his peppy, happy, insufferable laughs, before turning to face Logan. “Hiya, Lo! It's been so long since we’ve seen each other!”

“Not long enough,” Logan disagreed, with a rueful smile that should very clearly, very precisely detail how much he does not want company at the current moment. “Don’t you have things to be doing tonight, Mr. Hart?”

Patton hummed, pressing his lips together as he thought-- a monumental task for someone like him, surely. Logan was partially convinced that if he removed his glasses he might be able to see the squirrels beginning to run on that rusted wheel in the other man’s brain. If Logan was of a less logical mind he might even be brazen enough to call this the first time Patton had used his brain all week.

“Well,” Patton said, carefully settling himself on the stool next to Logan. “I was graciously informed by my son that he would be enjoying the perks of being a teenager with no bedtime tonight and along with where exactly I could shove my homemade lasagna.” He laughed lightly, “Kids, these days! He really does keep me on my toes!” 

Logan did his best not to roll his eyes. “I do not know the whereabouts of your son, Mr. Hart.”

“Patton,” He said easily, “And I’m not here for my son. I’m here for you, Logan.”

“If this is about the glass in my door, you are very capable of taking that out of my paycheck.” Logan told him.

The bartender placed Logan’s new rum and coke in front of him and he reached for it almost immediately, only stopping when Patton’s hand landed on his forearm.

“Mr. Hart--”

“Patton,” Patton corrected with that smile that Logan suspected was the worst thing in the world. Worse than Virgil’s blank expression when he told them to get out, worse than Remus’s smug one when he suggested that Logan did indeed enjoy the ability to manipulate his coworkers, worse than Beatrice faulty excel sheets, than broken glass of his door, than a ring he never wanted to see again and yet he still felt like it was missing from his finger.

“Mr. Hart,” Logan said again, “I am going to get horrifically drunk tonight, and I will be calling out sick tomorrow, regardless of what you say. So my advice to you is, say anything of importance now, before I am too incoherent to register and respond accordingly.”

“That doesn’t sound too smart there, kiddo!” Patton said, like he was any older than Logan was.

“I do not feel like being smart right now,” Logan said snippily. Because being smart involved thinking, and Logan had done quite enough thinking for the day. He was tired of thinking, tired of memories, tired of the lump in his chest that had formed during his lunch break and hadn’t dissolved in the eight hours since. He was tired.

“Would you like me to be smart for you?” Patton asked.

Ah.

Yes, Logan remembered suddenly with just a few words why he hated Patton Hart so much. Why he hated those too-wide brown eyes, those stupid freckles, that soft smile. Why he hated the way that Patton had tracked him down despite the fact that he had turned off his phone, the way that Patton had ordered two waters, the way that he hadn’t taken off his jacket. The way that he had taken out his keys and put them on the bar counter between them and Logan could pick out his own house key from the jumbled mess of bits and bobs.

“I heard something pretty interesting today,” Patton said, when Logan didn’t reply because he was too busy remembering why he hated Patton so much.

“Please don’t pretend like you didn’t know about my so-called affair before I did.” Logan snapped. “Honestly, Patton!” Logan dropped his arm from the glass and instead pressed his knuckles to his forehead. “Playing dumb about your own company is my least favroite thing about you.”

“I thought you hated my laugh the most.” Patton looked at him, letting the smile slip into something more serious.

“I hate everything about you.” 

“Pay for the drinks, Lo.” Patton told him, “And I’ll take you home. We can have some of my lasagna and watch a space documentary, like we’re twenty years old again.” 

Logan hated Patton and hated the way his chest ached at the offer. His knuckles bore into the side of his head, jabbing the frame of his own glasses into this temple. He hated the way that Patton was looking at him, soft and sweet and naive.

He hated the way his fingers itched to take Patton’s hand and go home.

“And after all that,” Patton continued so lightly, “You can tell me all about how Remus Prince got under your skin.”

 Logan’s hand slammed on the counter, so suddenly he surprised himself. Patton, however, didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, didn’t react other than to hold that smile. 

“I am not drunk enough to be talking about Remus Prince,” Logan spat. “Especially not to you, Patton.”

Patton was quiet and at first, Logan really had thought that he had won something-- he thought that perhaps Patton would grant him mercy and let him drown his sorrows alone and miserable in a bar until he forgot his own name. But Patton was too good of a friend and Logan really should hate him less for that.

“You know,” Patton said with a cold type of humor that doused Logan with awareness. Bad awareness. The type of awareness that sunk it’s metaphorical claws into Logan’s chest and pierced straight through his heart before Patton finished what he was saying. “I think….yeah that does sound familiar. Do you remember the last time you said you weren’t drunk enough to tell me something?”

Logan did.

Logan couldn’t forget if he tried. 

And he had tried so very hard for so very long-- except that Remus Prince had waltzed into Logan’s life, had called him a Robot, had smirked at him and run their coworkers around like cattle with pretty little words. Except that Remus Prince had gotten bored and decided that the only logical next course of action was to mess with Logan’s personal life. 

Except that Remus Prince had played along with the rumor game, and smiled at him, and kissed him, and---

And Logan had started thinking---

And Logan’s mouth had started moving--

And Virgil face had--

Logan reached for the glass in front of him, reaching for the cool ice and the spritzy carbonation and the burn of the rum.  

Patton watched him, blinking in the long, slow, dumb way of his that had fooled just about every person that he had come in contact with. With the goofy smile and the habit of deliberately misunderstanding key phrases and making puns and jokes when things were tense, it was hard to see him as anything other than a rich son who became CEO via thinly veiled nepotism. 

Logan knocked back the drink, blinking back the burn behind his eyes that were from the alcohol and definitely not from the lump in his throat that had started dissolving.

He didn’t want to close his eyes, because he knew what he would see when he did: a nice suit, a fancy dinner, a walk to the bridge dotted with fairy lights of all things. He’d see that stupid ring, that stupid face, that stupid end of the night that everyone had told him would be nice, and perfect, and everything he would ever want! 

And he didn’t want to think about how it had not been nice or perfect or anything either of them had ever wanted!

He didn’t want to think about how years ago he had come to a bar just like this, and tried to get so drunk he could pretend that it hadn’t happened, and Patton had shown up then and offered him a job and--

“He wants to go by Janus now,” Patton said, picking up one of the waters and taking a sip.

Logan squinted at him and tried not to be happy about the distraction from his own thoughts, “Who?”

“My son,” Patton said, like it was obvious he had switched back to a neutral topic. “He told me earlier during our phone call he wants to go by Janus, now. He said he’s hated the name Dante for forever. Can you believe it, Lo?”

Logan couldn’t actually. Because he had known Patton since they themselves were teenagers, since before Patton had brought up how empty being a CEO was without anyone to come home too, since Patton had first invited him to Sunday brunch and introduced him to the child he called “son”. Logan had babysat Dante when Patton had business trips and Dante had always been proud of himself, of his better-than-the-status-quo lifestyle, of his name that held power and prestige and weight.

Dante had been practicing saying his name in the mirror since before his voice cracked. Dante Hart, future CEO. Dante Hart, son of Patton Hart. Dante Hart. 

“He’s a teenager,” Logan said, “He’s rebelling.”

“Maybe so!” Patton laughed, and it dwindled down to something that was easier felt in the air than definable in terms Logan was familiar with, “Gosh, I love him so much, Lo. My baby! He’s growing up so fast now! The other day he told me he had a boyfriend. He’s at that stage where he doesn’t want me to help him anymore!”

And despite the buffoon having not had a single drop of alcohol, Patton was tearing up. Logan gritted his teeth at the implications of a weepy, teary, so-full-of-emotions Patton. He had spent enough time in college trying to console him as he figured out the whole “Why does it always have to be about sex? Why can’t I just love hugging someone, Lo? Why does everyone make me feel so broken?” Logan hadn’t been any good back then, and he definitely hadn’t gotten better with time. 

After that disaster with the last guy, Logan had decided that feeling things, frivolous things, emotion-like things, were not something he was into anymore.

Logan learned from his mistakes, after all.

Even the mistakes that started with “R” and ended in a $400 ring being thrown away.

“Is that why you’re here, Mr. Hart?” Logan asked, in that way of his that told even Patton with his squirrel run brain that it wasn’t actually a question at all. “You can’t baby your son anymore so you’ve moved on to the next best thing?”

Patton stuck his tongue in his cheek and set his water back down. “Patton.” He stressed. “And I’m not here to baby you, Logan. I’m here to be your friend.”

He said “friend” like it was a word in the dictionary Logan didn’t know. It was infuriating: the insinuation that Logan had never cracked open a dictionary before, that he was so unknowledgeable about the concept of a friend that Patton was about to show him the online Oxford dictionary definition, like someone who played dumb all day and peppered his windows with sticky notes in the shape of a game of Frogger knew more about something than Logan who had clawed his way up from nothing and was constantly needing to prove how he earned his position.

Patton nudged the second water in Logan’s direction.

Logan stared at it, at the condensation on the glass, at the ice cubes, at the refraction of the low lights from the bar counter. He stared at it like it was a portal back through time that would allow him to slam some sense into poor, pitiful twenty-one-years-old Logan before he let himself fall in Love.

Before he bought a ring or stopped taking days off unless Patton tromped down to his office himself. Before Remus Prince borrowed his cup and before Logan got it in his head that he was serving revenge rather than idiocracy. Before he let himself think too little and say too much and hurt a kid that had never deserved to be upset before in his life.

“If my son wants to be called Janus, I’ll call him that,” Patton says softly. “Because even if it doesn’t make sense to me, it means something to him. And even if my friend is struggling with emotions that don’t make sense to me, I’m still gonna try to help him, Lo.”

Patton ducked his head just a little, just enough that he managed to catch Logan’s strategically averted gaze and make something out of it: a swell of guilt, a sense of hope, a pinch of safety and unadulterated kindness.

His throat was dry, but it was the type of dry that couldn’t be fixed with a glass of water.

“I made a kid cry,” Logan said, because self loathing is a coat he had thought he’d outgrown but he can still fit his arms in the sleeves.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that.” He sipped his water. “I think we all have at one point or another.”

“See, the distinct difference that you are missing here, Patton, is that you are a father.” Logan snapped, “And your son will cry at the drop of a hat if he thinks he can get something out of it. And you would never harm a child! Not for any reason in the entire world!”

“And you would?”

“I did.” Logan felt himself sink into the chair, sink like an anchor in the ocean, sink like the floor below him had turned into a blackhole. “I did, I did it. What type of person does that make me?”

“I hate to break it to you, Lo,” Patton said, as kindly as he could, which Logan knew was truly, sickenly nice. He wanted to choke on the sentiment but he found that he couldn’t quite make his chest hurt the way he wanted it too when it came to Patton’s pity.

 “But that just means you’re a normal person.” Patton smiled dumbly, tilting his head and shrugging. “Everyone says things they don’t mean sometimes.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Patton countered gently, “Like when I hired Beatrice before realizing that she had lied about knowing how to use Excel.”

“Fuck, Beatrice,” Logan agreed, because if he closed his eyes too hard he thought he might still see grid patterns as much as he might see Virgil’s hurt expression and he hated it so much. So much. 

“I also told-- Janus once that I would get him anything he wanted for his birthday, and he asked for a snake.” Patton shuddered, almost comically, “And you saw how that turned out.”

“I’ve always been impressed with his ability to sneak things into the school buildings,” Logan sighed. “I doubt anyone has ever forgotten that Show-and-Tell.”

Patton chuckled quietly. It was almost lost in the buzz of the other patrons in the bar. He drew a smiley face in the condensation on his glass and Logan reached over to wipe it away, like he had done a hundred seventeen times since college.

“So….Lasagna?” Patton offered. “We can make some garlic bread too.”

“I regret ever meeting you,” Logan said, even as he picked up the keys on the counter between them. He wished that Patton didn’t look so self satisfied, so pleased, so smug when the words tumbled from his lips, but Patton had never been one to pertain to the wishes and whims of Logan like that.

Settling his tab was quick; a pile of bills from his wallet that he didn’t actually check, but decided the bartender deserved anyway and then Patton linked their elbows together so that Logan couldn’t walk off the way that he used to when he would agree with Patton just to get him to shut up. Logan snagged Patton’s glasses from his head and fogged them up with his breath, before taking on the tedious task of cleaning the fingerprints off the lens meticulously while walking in a wobbling straight line. 

Patton laughed like silver bells and it alone brightened the entire street with a type of magic that Logan had long since given up on trying to scientifically explain. The poet in him that Logan had buried under Calculus classes and Statistics courses and a Business degree and only let out when the alcohol out weighed the blood in his system, whispered that it was because it was Patton and his aloofness, and his kindness, and his generosity that never made any sense, and wasn’t that reason enough for the universe to lighten up?

It was drizzling outside, scattered raindrops and dark heavy clouds that whispered of a thunderstorm later. Patton skipped, Logan rolled his eyes and let himself be dragged towards the familiar pale blue punch buggy. It was the same exact car from their college time together, if one ignored the frankenstein replacements of just about every single component in it. Patton clung to the car the same way he had clung to the delusion of Logan being a good friend; sticking close through every breakdown, excusing every letdown, and spending far too much money on it when economically it would have been more beneficial to just let them go.

A wave of self loathing wrapped over Logan again when he pulled on the car door. Patton was genuinely a good person, a good friend. He was stupid at times and he made decisions that made Logan was to strangle him, but he cared so much more than other people. He offered fourth and fifth chances when Logan would have stone-walled his offender at one. 

Not to mention, he had come out in the rain to find Logan specifically, probably traversing through three other bars to find the one that Logan had chosen to be his misery echo chamber.

By some sort of lucky happenstance, Logan had originally walked far enough to hail a taxi  to get to this bar, leaving his car in the safety of the parking garage where Patton’s company paid a nice sum for security. Logan had tried to argue about that expense with him back in the day, but Patton had pulled out a picture of his toothy grinning son-- Janus-- and said “Lo!! What if my son comes to visit when he learns to drive?! I don’t want to worry about him getting attacked in the parking garage!” 

Logan had brutally pointed out that his son would never visit him during work, and so far he had been correct in that assessment, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the slightest bit guilty about his bluntness even so much time later.

Patton had always looked for the best in people, had more strength than most of humanity, had more hope in happy endings that Logan had trust in fact and numbers.

“Is your son okay with me calling him Janus? I’m unsure of etiquette on this. Should I wait until he tells me his preference or should I just make the switch and not bring it up to him?” Logan asked with a sigh as Patton pulled out of the parking spot and set them towards Patton’s house on the other side of town. Unobstructed and following the driving laws, it would only take them about fifteen minutes, and yet Logan wondered about the possibility of Patton having Advil in the car.

The back of his head was already aching from the days events: banging his head on the keyboard all morning leading up to his disastrous lunch date, Remus, Virgil, squinting at spreadsheets until he couldn’t make out the numbers anymore, and the of course stumbling his way to the bar and dealing with Patton.

Patton giggled. “Oh yeah! I asked him earlier if it was okay to tell you. He said he wanted you to call him Janus now. He also said to tell you, you can take a hike.”

Knowing Janus, it was probably something more volatile than “taking a hike”. Most likely it had been something that might have required him to put a full five dollars in the swear jar that they kept on the counter next to the cookie jar. Not that it would matter much. Logan had stayed over at their house dozens of times and every single time he had come across Janus taking that money back out of that swear jar.

As far as Logan was aware, the swear jar had never actually been full. Patton must have noticed at some point-- probably that very first time Janus had taken the money back out-- but he was irritating insistent that he play dumb about it. Thus, Janus continued to swear in excess, Patton continued to make him put money in a swear jar for no real reason, and Logan continued to never understand either of them.

The radio in Patton’s car had been broken fifteen times since Patton had gotten it, but Logan assumed from the silence of the drive that it was now sixteen. He rested his elbow on the window and watched the drizzle turn into a steady rain and the windshield wipers flutter across their vision to occasionally bring them clarity.

The night life was somewhat dreary. The driving pace was slow, and they hit every single stop light in the city because that was just Logan’s luck. There were a few people running around in the rain: a family with a small child who was jumping in every slowly forming puddle on the sidewalk, a couple sharing an umbrella walking so close together they appeared as if to be one misshapen form, a group of friends chatting outside a 24 hour dinner in raincoats, and a few smokers huddled under an alcove with embers burning just enough for Logan to make out their forms through the downpour. 

Logan realized almost immediately that the pit in his stomach was much more bearable if he instead focused on the raindrops on the window that are much easier to look at, much less representing something that Logan had always expected he might one day have, much less accusatory in wondering what is wrong with him that he can’t act like a normal human being, this isn’t working, who wants to marry a robot like you--

That was the reason why he wasn’t expecting the sudden jerk of the car coming to a hard stop at a yellow light that they absolutely could have made. 

“PATTON!” Logan yelled.

The car behind them blared it’s horn and Logan rubbed his neck and reset his glasses from the sudden movement, ready to question what exactly Patton thought he was doing, because truly of all the things Logan was not in the mood for, this was one of them. 

Except that before Logan could get any words out, Patton had put the car in park and whipped off his seatbelt to kick open his door. A wave of rain came pouring into the car as the man threw himself from the driver's seat like there was something wrong with the car, and for a second Logan entertained the absurd idea that they were going to blow up.

Which truly, would have just been a fitting end to his horrific day.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, grabbing after the other’s coat to pull him back inside before the rain soaked into the seats. “Get back in th--”

The other man ignored him, frantically waving to someone in the rain. “REMUS!! MR. PRINCE!! OVER HERE!!”

If Logan knew slightly less about human biology he might have been inclined to say that his heart jumped straight to his throat and climbed its way up his esophagus to strangle him. He wouldn’t have recognized the figure on the street corner on his own: Remus Prince was wearing a black leather jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. He was soaked to the bone, without an umbrella, and his usual bouncy brown curls were matted to his head, as if he had been walking out in the rain for much longer than the rain had been sweeping through the city.

He was standing with the smokers under their minimal tarp, although he, himself, was without a cigarette at all. When he turned at the call of his name, there was only confusion and exhaustion in his face. None of the smugness, or the ego, or the energy that he usually had.

Logan didn’t know why that bothered him. He was hurting from earlier; that was good. 

After all, it was Remus’s ridiculous game that he had dragged everyone else into. 

((Logan’s finger itched and he dug his nails into his skin so deeply he was afraid to glance down in case there was blood pouring off hands.))

Remus ventured out to meet them, dodging across the lanes of traffic without a care in the world, or perhaps with a death wish. Remus didn’t seem particularly like he would mind getting run over by the way that he opened the back door, climbed in, and shook the excess water out in the interior of the car like some type of undomesticated dog. 

“Is this a kidnapping?” He asked, rain dripping down his face. “A murder? Do I get to know your name before you dismember me, cutie?”

Patton laughed joyfully, even as Logan felt his face screw up at the sound of Remus calling their boss “cutie”. It was beyond unprofessional, even if Remus was apparently unaware that his career hinged entirely on not insulting Patton. It took a lot to make Patton angry enough to fire someone-- his patience was the best and worst thing about him, as Logan had been reminded every time they interacted-- but once Remus crossed that line, not even a cockroach like him would be able to drag himself out of the metaphorical wasteland Patton would make out of his life.

Cutie, honestly. Who calls anyone they’ve just met cutie. Logan could understand Remus having called him Lovebug and Lolo, but cutie? 

For Patton?

Patton climbed back into the car, snapping on his seatbelt and managed to get out of park at the very same moment as the light turned green. He wiped his sleeve along his glasses, and brightly said, “I’m Patton! And you already know Logie here!”

“Logie?” Remus repeated, sitting back against the seat taking in Logan for the first time. “Oh shi--”

“Do not call me that,” Logan said. “Patton, you can drop me off at the next corner. I will walk home.”

“Don’t be silly!” Patton said, in the same tone that he had used during their college days to coax Logan into driving him to the nearest grocery store after he had successfully managed to pull two all nighters in a row. Logan hated that tone, and Patton knew that well.

“If you do not stop the car, I will throw myself from it while it is still moving.”

“I can get out, actually!” Remus said far too loud for the small car. Logan resisted the urge to turn around and scowl at him. Surely, his pea-sized brain had managed to figure out that he was the point of contention here and that his best move would be to shut up, so why had he decided to open his mouth? “I need to get home anyway. Big day tomorrow and everything.”

“Oh?” Patton said delightedly because Logan would not ever play into subject changes willingly. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m getting fired,” Remus said with a nonchalant shrug.

Patton blinked for a moment-- his squirrel-run brain jamming at the sudden twist of the words because whatever he was expecting from his visitor it was not that. Logan resisted the urge to reach over and give him a shake at the shoulders: of course he wouldn’t be able to expect anything with Remus Prince. The man was insufferable and illogical and he wrought chaos for fun. 

With everything that had happened, did Patton really think that there was an exaggeration in there?

Remus wanted attention. And he said whatever he needed to in order to get it: a fake affair, a fake divorce, a fake child-- Of course he would say he was getting fired tomorrow if it got Patton to have to use all of his meager brain cells to figure out how serious he was.

“Is that something to celebrate, Mr. Prince?” Logan cut in coldly. “Getting fired?”

“And here I thought that you would be happy, Ackroyd,” Remus said. “Unless you think you’re going to miss me.”

“If only I would be so lucky,” Logan said, digging his phone from his pocket, and turning it back on. The screen was blindingly bright and Logan’s eyes ached just glancing at it in the corner of his vision. “Patton, pull over. I am not doing this tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever again.”

“I’m not going to let you walk home after however many rum and cokes you had, Logan.”

“Patton,” Logan snarled. “If you continue to treat me like you treat your son, I will tender my resignation tonight. Pull over now.”

Patton opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was swallowed up in Remus’s empty voice speaking. 

“You went drinking?”

“Do not talk to me, Mr. Prince.”

“You’re not even yelling.”

Logan wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, which may have irritated him more than the fact that he was so insistent about continuing to talk when Logan was liable to push the car to crash and kill all three of them. Remus was already staring at him, his expression dark and serious in the passing car lights and somehow Logan thought that he looked vulnerable. 

Logan gritted his teeth as his headache pulsed behind his eyes. 

“Shut up,” he said. “And put on your seat belt.”

“Or what? You’ll divorce me?” Remus pushed forward between the seats until he was just a few inches from Logan’s own face, grinning with all his teeth. It was at once the same smile that Logan had catalogued through every week of working with him and also something completely foreign.

Remus had pulled him into a kiss earlier that morning, and Logan remembered the taste of pickles on his lips just as well as the smirk he kept as Logan walked away. But this expression is somehow inverted, somehow shifted, somehow a weapon more than a challenge.

“Boys,” Patton said. “Please don’t fight in my car!”

“If you did not want us to fight, why did you invite him in this car?” Logan asked. “You, of all people, know my opinions on--”

“Logan, you’re drunk.”

“What does that have to do with this?!” Logan bit out. He glared at his phone: there were three missed calls from Patton and a handful of text messages from him that Logan couldn’t actually read in the combination of the bright phone light and darkness around them. His eyes were blurry even with his glasses on and the frustration of not being able to read only heightened as he made out the notification for his email which meant that Beatrice had managed to finish her work (allowing Logan to be able to go fix it) or that news of him yelling at a child made it around the office and now he was going to harassed by them as well.

All because of Remus Prince’s inability to shut up. 

 Patton threw a hand out and grabbed Logan’s phone from his hand and carelessly tossed it over both their shoulders to Remus.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, rubbing the irritated tears from his eyes. “Remus, give it back!”

Remus, however, was just staring at the phone in his lap like it was some type of bomb. Logan’s phone locked itself and the screen went dark, and still Remus sat inhumanely still in the seat, staring at it, with a type of blank expression that Logan oftentimes related to their coworkers when Logan asked them to perform any sort of math without a calculator.

“Remus,” Logan said again.

Remus jerked at the sound of his voice, snapping out of whatever fit the phone had put him in almost meekly-- if Logan could describe anything Remus did as meekly without it being a blatant falsehood. “Meekly” itself had never seemed to be a word in Remus’s vocabulary which was another irritating fact about him that made Logan break out in figurative hives.

Logan knew how Remus was.

He knew Remus.

It didn’t matter that he had never talked to Remus before today, that his thinly veiled contempt for his coworkers kept him from being willing to stand in their presence more than he was being paid to, that this fake affair was the first stupid relationship of any kind he had gotten outside of Patton and his son since his last boyfriend had dumped him on the night he was going to propose and hadn’t he thought he’d known him too? Isn’t that what led to all this? 

It didn’t matter. 

Logan was smarter, now. Logan was better now. Logan was--

“I don’t…” Remus said, trailing off as he stared at the messages popping up on Logan’s phone and Logan wondered why it felt like his lungs had shrunk right in his chest. “I don’t think you should be reading these right now.”

“He definitely should not!” Patton said, with a very convincing amount of forced happiness. “Hold that for him will you, Remus? Oh and why do you think you’re going to get fired tomorrow?”

Remus looked up at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Logan, like Logan was supposed to know what that meant in addition to every other stupid look he’d given Logan all evening. Logan shoved his glasses up to his hairline and rubbed his aching eyes, and yet somehow that still didn’t fix the pounding in his head or the exhaustion hollowing out his bones. It also didn’t make Remus disappear from the backseat, which was equally annoying, even though Logan hadn’t truly thought he was a shared apparition for him and Patton.

“You didn’t mention anything about today to your… what are you a fuck buddy?” Remus said.

And Patton laughed. 

Logan grabbed the door handle and yanked on it, but of course the ridiculous safety locks were engaged, and Logan had spent far too many sober years getting locked in this car to try to puzzle out the broken locking system in order to drunkenly throw himself out of the car. He was not in the habit of wishing for miracles, or even believing in deities, but he imagined that some powerful entity was finding ruining Logan’s life to be semi enjoyable.

“See this is why I can’t fire him!” Patton said through giggles and Logan thought maybe he was being addressed for this. Patton met Remus’s gaze through the rearview mirror and shook the last bit of water from his damp hair. “You make everything so entertaining!”

“What?”

Logan grit his teeth and yanked on the door handle again. “Remus, meet Mr. Hart, the CEO and your boss. Also put on your seatbelt.”

Remus blinked at them both, leaning between the seats and definitely not putting on his seatbelt. Logan counted backward from ten, reminding himself that one of the hiring requirements for Patton’s company has always been must be the stupid beyond belief. He’d known for a while that his coworkers were idiots on a good day, hazards to his health on bad ones, and yet somehow in the whirlwind of the day he’s had, Logan had forgotten that Remus counted as a coworker still.

“I’m not… getting fired?” Remus said, acting much like a computer after being turned on. “Why do you know my name then?”

Patton shrugged, flicking on his blinker to change lanes before the next light. “You have interesting ideas for your advertising strategy! Of course I would know your name! I’m sorry about vetoing that last one. I know Logan liked it, but I wanted to stick to the family-as-a-whole angle.”

“Patton,” Logan warned with an edge.

“Logan liked…?” Remus echoed, before turning towards Logan with a look of bewilderment that annoyed Logan far more than it had any right to. “You actually look at my shit?”

“Put on your seatbelt, Remus,” he said, because wasn’t it obvious that Logan looked at his things? Before the whole Robot incident Logan hadn’t had a problem with Remus at all: he was effective and efficient and the rumors were irritating but below him to indulge in. Before Remus had dragged him figuratively kicking and screaming into this mess, Logan approved the budgets that came with the projects Remus created.

He still did that, just with more anger than before. Petty feelings for Remus himself aside, his work was objectively good. 

Logan knew that about him.

“So!” Patton said over both of them, with his signature grin that Logan suspected he would still be wearing even if Logan decided to kill him right now. It must be the by-product of being controlled by rodents running on a wheel. “How was your volunteer work Remus?”

Remus froze in the back seat, going unnaturally still again. “Are you some kind of stalker-- uh sir?”

“Will you knock that off?��� Logan snapped, which only made Remus’s shoulders jump straight to his ears. “And put on your seatbelt.”

“Just curious!” Patton said, ignoring Logan entirely. “Darlene is a good friend of mine! I make sure to send monthly donations to the organization since I don’t have a lot of free time to jump over and help.”

Remus didn’t say anything to that. He swallowed audibly and leaned back against the seat, dragging fingers through his wet hair and then tucked his arms in his own armpits. Logan pressed a palm to his forehead watching the street lights bend from behind his eyelids because that was easier than staring at Remus act like Patton was trying to pull his teeth out.

“You actually do volunteer work?” Logan said. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Ha,” Remus said without any inflection. Logan thought that was the quietest that he had ever been. Where was that stupid ass smirk? Where was the stubbornness that pushed back against everything? Where was that loud voice and that confidence?

“Put on your seatbelt,” Logan said again.

“Why do you care if I wear the belt or not?”

“Remus put on your seatbelt or, so help me Newton, I will climb back there and put it on for you, myself!”

The air simmered from the acid in his tone, making the silence figurative chafe against his ribs. Remus stared at him, blinking slowly, with the street lights casting roving shadows on his face. His dark eyes were just so-- so--

Logan dug his nails into his palm. Why was it Remus Prince could make him feel like this? What gave him the right?

“It’s okay!” Patton said, setting the car to park. “We’re here anyway!”

Logan reached up and pulled his glasses back onto his face properly, but it still took him a moment to realize that they were near a bunch of townhouses, double parked outside one that Logan had considered moving into all those years ago when he had first been looking for an apartment for after college.

Remus too, apparently needed a moment to recognize the area. “We… are at my apartment? Holy shit, you are a stalker.”

Patton giggled, flashing Remus with his blinding smile and reached back to pick up Logan’s phone from his hands. “Thank you so much, kiddo! We’ll wait until you get inside all safe and sound, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“You will not,” Logan said. “Tomorrow you have a business deal two hours away to complete and if you miss it--”

Patton stretched back in his seat and let out a hugely exaggerated yawn. “But they’re so boring! Maybe I should bring Janus with me. He always makes my business deals entertaining. I love when he sets his snake on people. He looks so happy and he laughs and--”

Logan squeezed his eyes closed and recited the first twenty digits of pi in his head to keep from grabbing Patton’s squirrel run brain and slamming it into the steering wheel.

“Homicide is wrong,” Logan said.

“I’ll help you vouch for insanity,” Remus said. “I mean, tied together through a murder, and possibly hiding a body is much more juicy than a fake marriage that’s falling apart. We’d be the talk of the office.”

“They would not find any body that I hid,” Logan said. “Nobody would.”

Remus opened his mouth to say something more, but whatever it is he decided against it. Instead he slid over the seats and kicked open the door right behind Logan and stepped out into the night air.

“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hart, sir,” he said, strangely formal, then squinted and added, “Daddy?” 

“I’m not firing you, Remus,” Patton said. “No matter what you call me!”

Logan ran his tongue over his teeth counting each and every one. Remus looked at him but ultimately finally adhered to that whole shutting up thing. He closed the door to Patton’s blue punch buggy and started towards the door to the apartments.

“Oh,” Remus said, and turned back at the last second. He knocked his knuckles on Logan’s window a few inches from where Logan’s gaze fixed itself on a light. Patton apparently knew more about what to do than Logan because he pressed the window lowering button and Remus reached his entire arm into the window to drop a small object right into Logan’s lap.

Logan caught it mainly due to reaction rather than skill and his skin tingled at the familiar item. Even in the dark, Logan’s fingers roll over the shape of the ring that had always reminded him of the worst day of his life. It was still warm from being in Remus’s pocket.

“I think that should stay with you,” Remus said, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “You know… for the next boytoy you take to your sex dungeon or whatever nerds like you do on weekends.”

And then he turned around and fled towards the apartment building. Patton turned off the hazard lights and slipped back into traffic and Logan wondered if he would be polite enough to not comment if Logan started crying right then and there.

His throat felt swollen, his tongue too big for his mouth, and the headache thrummmmmmed painfully. 

Logan knew Remus Prince.

“You know that Remus Prince isn’t gonna be like him,” Patton said to fill the silence.

“Remus Prince isn’t like anyone.” Logan didn’t whine. To whine would be unbecoming. And childish. And embarrassing.

So Logan didn’t whine and Patton mercifully didn't call him out on his not-whining.

And neither of them mention the choked tone that Logan had for the rest of the night.

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up with him clutching that ring like a lifeline, but as he ran his fingers around the rim, he wondered if it had fit on Remus’s finger at all.

(Part Five)

[hangovercurse]

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

[a-singleboat]

Heather

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: literally, please do not hate me for this, i just wanted to write domestic dream x reader

Warnings: I think a swear, there’s also a kiss that gets a lil steamy

If there was one good thing about a global pandemic, it was that it meant you got to spend more time at home and less time actually working. Of course, as an educator, you had to still work but at least you got to do it from the comfort of your own desk. The office space was one that you shared with your boyfriend, which wasn’t an issue most of the time. 

But if there was one bad thing about a global pandemic, it was that you had to stay home. While your boyfriend was content to stay at home, you were not. Your need to be out and about had you on daily walks nearly every day but as your self-imposed quarantine grew longer, you found yourself opting to stay home. 

Though, today was different. Today, you had taken it upon yourself to go out and get the groceries while Clay stayed home to work. And by work, you meant to stream a video that most likely would be extremely loud and distracting and you really couldn’t bring yourself to do any work while that went down. 

So there you were, an hour later, arriving back at the home that you and Clay had bought together not too long ago. You’d gotten more than you anticipated to get, finding that it had taken you several trips in between your shopping cart and the trunk of your car to load everything in. You checked your watch. Clay had been streaming for about half an hour before you left and from what you knew, most of his streams didn’t usually last more than two hours. 

You called his phone, juggling the milk in one hand and a reusable bag in the other. Your own phone was pressed between your ear and your shoulder as you used your pinky to open up the door connecting the garage to the house. He picked up a moment later. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked. You could hear the sounds of his keyboard clicking in the background, a pang of guilt running through you as you realized that he was most likely still streaming. 

“Nevermind,” you were quick to say, setting the milk jug on the counter. “You’re still streaming, just wanted to know if you were done and could help bring in the groceries but I can do it.” 

“No, just give me a moment,” Clay said, shifting his focus from you to his stream. “Guys, I gotta go help my girlfriend really quick. Uh, George and Sapnap, entertain the stream for a quick moment.”

You heard him take his headphones off and get out of his chair before the office door opened upstairs. You hung up the phone, grinning as he slid around the corner with a smile on his face. 

“Hi, baby,” you greeted him, kissing his cheek when he walked over to you. He blushed, peppering your face in kisses in order to hide his embarrassment. “How’s the stream going so far?” 

“Terribly,” Clay groaned, rubbing his upper arm. He had told you that he was doing a stream involving a shock collar but you weren’t expecting him to do it today. “But maybe if you sat in the office and watched while I streamed, it wouldn’t be as bad.”

You scoffed, pushing him away from you. You took up the milk jug, opening the fridge and sliding it into its place. “Or, you can go get the rest of the groceries from the car and then maybe I’ll consider it. I still have to grade my papers, too, bubs.” 

“I think the high schoolers can wait a little longer for their grades, babe,” he deadpanned. You looked over at him, laughing when you saw his pouted lip. He’d switched tactics by then, trying to get you to do what he wanted by attempting to look as utterly adorable as possible. It was endearing, that much was true. 

“I’ll stay in the room instead of doing my work out here while you stream, how about that?” You asked, starting to unpack the groceries. He immediately perked up, nodding rapidly in agreement with the compromise you offered. You rolled your eyes playfully. “Now go get the bags from the car. You’ve got people waiting on you.” 

His eyes widened as he realized that he had abandoned his audience of nearly a million viewers. He ran out to the car and grabbed the groceries in record time, coming back and setting them on the counter before giving you a quick kiss on the lips and yelling, “I love you!” as he disappeared back up the stairs and into the office.

You took your time putting the rest of the groceries away, listening to the faint sounds of Clay in pain for about ten minutes before ultimately deciding that you should make good on your promise. 

You entered the room, closing the door behind you before grabbing your laptop and wheeling your chair over next to his. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before settling in next to him. It was mostly peaceful, Clay trying to hold in his screams as to not startle you each time he got shocked. At one point, he had decided to take a break to try and calm down. You took his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into the space between his thumb and his index finger. 

“You okay?” you asked, looking up at him in concern. You had finished grading maybe a third of your papers, having been distracted by the gameplay for longer than you cared to admit. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, wincing as he realized his mistake. He pushed the headset off his ears, yelling into his mic for George and Sapnap to shut up before putting it back on. You couldn’t hear what his friends were saying but you could read the chat that was displayed on his second monitor, his viewers going insane as they asked who he was talking to. 

He muted his mic as quick as he could, looking over to you with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry, babe. I completely forgot I had my mic on.” 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, still rubbing circles into his hand. “We’ve been together, what, five years? They would have found out sooner or later.”

“But your job…” he looked at you. 

“They don’t need to know my real name,” you giggled. “They’ll most likely end up calling me ‘Dream’s Girlfriend,’ or something. Like how they call your mom ‘Dream’s Mom,’ and Tommy’s ‘Motherinnit’.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Talk about me all you want,” you assured him. “But just don’t say that I’m a bitch and that you don’t like me.”

“The bar is so much lower than I ever imagined,” he quoted back at you, laughing slightly as he turned his mic back on. You figured you wouldn’t be getting any more work done that night so you opted to close your laptop. You scooted in closer to him, steering clear of the shock collar on his arm.

“Hey, guys,” he talked to his chat. “Sorry I keep disappearing on you guys. Uhm, I guess we can take this moment to have a chat? I kind of want a break from getting shocked a thousand times over.” 

He disconnected his headphones so you could hear the conversation going on between him and his friends as well. Immediately, the familiar voices of George and Sapnap flooded the room, both yelling about how Clay had never told them about you before. 

You leaned in closer to the mic, looking back at Clay and laughing for a bit before speaking up. “Hi, guys!” you said. “I’m, uh, Dream’s Girlfriend, I suppose.”

“‘I suppose,’” Sapnap chortled as he repeated your words. You flushed, realizing your most likely poor choice of words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Be nice, Sapnap,” George scolded the younger man. You couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s probably nervous or something.”

“I am very nervous,” you giggled. You felt Clay’s hand grab yours, squeezing slightly as a bit of encouragement. “Uh, someone in the chat asked how long Dream and I have been dating… It’s been a little over five years now. We celebrated our anniversary back in July, actually.”

“Best five years of my life,” Clay added, reaching out to tickle your sides. You shrieked, squirming away from his hands. 

“Baby, no!” you yelled, gasping in surprise as you fell over into his lap. He pulled you in close, settling you on his lap as he read the chat over your shoulder. 

“What’s her name?” he read. “Her name is Dream’s Girlfriend. When did we meet? We met while I was still in school, actually. We were friends for, I think, two years before I asked her out.” 

You nodded along. “Yeah, two years sounds about right. Also, I distinctly remember it being me to ask you out, not the other way around.” You brought your watch up to your face, noticing the time. “But I digress. I have to go make dinner so you should hurry up and beat Minecraft so we can eat together.”

“What are you making?”

“I’m thinking ziti,” you teased, getting up off his lap. You gave him a quick kiss before leaving him to his stream. You grabbed your phone off your desk before heading downstairs, opening Twitter as you went. 

See, that was the thing about total anonymity. You could have a stan Twitter account, decorated by Clay himself, to keep up to date with everything going on in his life. While he asked about your day, you could take your lunch break to catch up on the latest Twitter events. 

Today, as expected, the latest Twitter event was you. People were going crazy, tweeting about Dream’s Girlfriend and speculating on who it could be. You liked a few tweets, laughing at the ones that didn’t make sense as the pasta boiled. A few mutuals, people you had actually become close friends with, were messaging you like crazy, all shouting about, well, you. 

I wish I were Heather, your friend typed out, sending the audio clip from the five minutes you’d talked during. You got a good laugh out of that, reacting to her message with the laughing emoji. You finished making dinner, occasionally responding to the group chat as you did. About thirty minutes after you’d left Clay, you finally heard him wrapping up the stream, thanking his viewers before signing off. 

“I’m gonna head to dinner now,” you heard him say to his friends. You didn’t hear their response but you heard Clay’s, which was, “Yeah, I know.”

He came bounding down the steps about ten minutes later, stretching his arms over his head as he yawned. He rubbed his arm a few times, wincing as he felt the aftershocks from the shock collar. 

“Do you want to take a bath tonight?” you suggested, plating the pasta for him. He entered the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your midsection as you finished pouring the pesto sauce on his plate. He pressed feather-light kisses into your neck, tickling you with the facial hair he had grown over the past couple of weeks. 

“And maybe I’ll shave,” he contemplated, tickling you further. You giggled, reaching a hand up to scratch his growing beard.

“I like it though,” you admitted. “Makes you seem older, more refined.”

“But you won’t let me do… things when I have a beard.”

“Because when you do things with a beard, it causes, like, carpet burn.”

He hummed. “I’m going to shave.” 

“You should check Twitter, by the way,” you mentioned nonchalantly. “Your stans are having a meltdown.” 

He pulled out his phone, holding it in front of you as he opened the app. Immediately, his feed refreshed and there was nothing but mentions of Dream and his mysterious girlfriend. One tweet caught your eye, reading, I don’t think that Dream actually has a girlfriend and it’s just Sapnap with a voice filter on. 

You both laughed at that one, taking his phone so that you could like it and respond, You got me, with the laughing emoji after. “That’s just going to confuse them more,” he said, shutting his phone off. “But enough about that, dinner looks amazing.”

“Made with love,” you cooed, turning in his arms to give him a kiss. He moved the two of you to the side, pressing you against the counter instead of the stove. Your arms made their way around his neck, twisting into the base of his dirty blonde hair and pulling hard enough to pull a soft moan from his lips. 

He was the first to pull away, his need for air outweighing his want to continue kissing you. You continued to kiss down his neck, giggling when he groaned in reaction to you sucking a hickey into his sweet spot. 

“I love you,” he said, once you’d finally separated. “And I know that everyone is excited that I have a girlfriend now, but if you start seeing hate, please tell me. I don’t want you to have to go through that alone.”

“I love you, too,” you sighed, tracing shapes into his chest. “And I’m a big girl, Clay. I’m sure I can handle a few trolls on my own.”

He put his hand under your chin, gently guiding your eyes up to meet his. “I know you can handle yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. Promise me you’ll tell me.”

It was cute, how overprotective over you he was. He looked at you with concern, looking to be debating between sending a tweet to his fans to be respectful and making a video and posting it. Most of his fandom was respectful, though there were a few people that went out of their way to send hate. 

You sighed, lowering your shoulders and settling into his chest. He rested his chin on the top of your head as you muttered a quiet promise to him. You knew that Clay just wanted to keep you safe, which was part of the reason as to why you gave in so easily. He only had your best interests at heart and you knew that. 

“You’re the most important person to me, I hope you know that.”

“I do,” you said softly. “And you’re the most important to me. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

TAGLIST

Permanent

@beautiful-holland​ @toms-order​ @starlightfound​ @grandmascottlang​ @positiveparker​ @bippity-boppity-boopa​ @caswinchester2000​ @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch​ @paige0103​

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. four.

three < current > five

March 2017

White Day is only a few days away when you begin to notice Rika’s form is absent from your training sessions lately. There shouldn’t be any reason for this, at least not one you’re aware of. Your class celebrated Yuta’s birthday just two days ago, and both the curse and cursed seemed fine, great even. You decide it’s best to bring this up casually - Yuta was still so skittish and Rika would be able to hear whatever you said anyways. So while you lead Yuta through a yoga session, you ask, “How’s Rika?”

He flusters and falls from his side-plank variation pose. The band he was using as an aid tangles around his calf. You debate and decide to leave him. If you touched him now, he might spontaneously combust. That thought makes you giggle a little. You move to change to a position that meant you weren’t looking at him. Hopefully, that’s less pressure.

Yuta speaks up when you’re fully downward dog, leading you to believe your plan worked. “She’s fine, yeah, fine. Just uh - tired?” You nod but inwardly roll your eyes. You shift your hips in to move to upward facing dog and make eye contact again.

“Just checking. I miss her hanging out, you know?” It’s obvious Yuta just lied, curses don’t get tired, but it’s better to not call him out this time. You just have to hope it wasn’t anything you did. “I know you fell but at this point you’re just slacking. Get back on your mat,” you say, changing the topic to something safe.

You’re back in downward facing dog when the door slides open. A familiar voice drawls, “Why are you still working out, dummy? Forgot our plans?” You scramble to your feet.

“Gumi!” You rush to hug him despite his obvious distaste. “What time is it? Do I still have time to shower or will we be late?”

Your little brother snorts and pushes you away, “Please do, you smell. You have,” he checks his watch, “fifteen minutes.”

“Gumi! That’s not enough time!” You yell, already sprinting towards the showers at the back of the gym. Yuta pouts at how quickly you seemed to forget his presence. That face doesn’t escape Megumi.

“So, you like my idiot sister?”

“W-what! No, no no no, it’s not like that! She just helps t-train me and -!” Yuta knows he’s rambling but he can’t seem to stop talking.

“Whatever,” Megumi has better things to worry about than repressed hormones. He's known that Yuta had a crush on you since the first time he came to campus to train with you after Yuta arrived. Your classmate couldn’t stop staring and seemed disheartened by the fact that you called Megumi by a shortened version of his given name. He had pouted until Satoru showed up and made a spectacle of ‘Team Gojo’ being all together again. Like you three didn’t, at minimum, have a weekly dinner together.

“If you ever want to acknowledge them, you’ll have to get approved by Satoru.” Yuta feels like he also needs the approval of this boy, but he leaves that unsaid. Just nods dumbly. Probably a good thing he didn’t respond, because you barrel through the doors you disappeared from.

When you rush past him, Yuta gets a strong whiff of the floral scent he’s come to associate with you. Megumi laughs under his breath at the blissed out look. Your hair drips water onto your tee shirt and it’s clear you rushed. “Really, really sorry to dip, Yuta. Run through those stretches we did last week to cool down!” Your fingers distractedly pull your wet hair into a braid as you instruct him. “Oh! Tell Maki I won’t be at afternoon training, Satoru already knows and gave permission. Megumi, grab my duffel?” Already carrying it, he rolls his eyes. “I should be back tomorrow morning, but don’t count on it.”

“Wait, but why -?”

“Gotta dash. Bye, Yuta!” You run ahead of your brother, headed to your room to grab Tsumiki’s gifts. Megumi gives a nod and follows after you. Alone and without anyone around to judge, Yuta groans and buries his face into his yoga mat. God, why can’t he just be normal.

When he looks back up, Rika has taken your spot on your mat. You left in such a hurry, you didn’t even clean up. He’ll have to drop it off in your room. “Ya’ know, it’s not that I’m mad about you liking her,” she begins. “It’s just…. I know we can’t be together so I do want you to be happy. I just feel jealous. Especially since you got her that super fancy chocolate for White Day,” Rika finishes with a pout.

Yuta doesn’t really know how to reassure her. So he does what he promised when he was ten, and is just honest. “I’m here to learn how to let you go, Rika. Neither of us know how to do that yet. I can’t be in any kind of relationship until I learn. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

Rika hums and picks at the corner of your mat. “Well. I think it’s more than just us two you’re worried about.”

“What?”

“Inumaki seems pretty interested in the both of you too. You may not see it, but all three of you are pretty smitten. It’s actually kind of gross.”

“That’s - he - no!” Rika just laughs and dissolves her form. Yuta, still flustered, continues to mutter as he collects the things you left and wipes down any used equipment. When he finally leaves, it’s just his luck he runs (literally) into Inumaki who looks unfairly handsome in a fitted tee and sweatpants. Even his markings are uncovered, which makes Yuta groan, tuck tail, and run away. Yuta can hear Rika laughing in his mind.

“Tuna mayo?” Inumaki tilts his head to the side but shrugs off the odd behavior.

-

July 2017

JJH Thots the good gojo: guysss help which tie do i get :( fushiguro: isn’t satoru with you the good gojo: yea but u know he’s shit at gifts maki: Both of those are ugly, (y/n). Do you hate the man? osamu: the cheetah print trophy husband: I like that one too! the good gojo: this is why you two are my favorites

From a few cities over, Yuta flushes at your words. Inumaki notices and kicks his foot. He’s laughing when he says, “Nori,” but Yuta can spot a faint pink over the hem of his collar too.

You turn around in the middle of the street when you hear a loud, “(y/n)-chan!” Satoru is speed-walking towards you, waving an arm that is covered in different shopping bags. His long legs have him beside you in a split second, even without the use of cursed energy. “Are you done yet? Nanami won’t even thank you properly you know. Why don’t you just get gifts for your precious Nii-chan?” He pouts and takes the two bags you’re carrying.

“One, it’s not your birthday. Two, you could buy anything you want already. Three, who's to say I didn’t already get you one?” You pull a box of macaroons out from one of the bags he took. Satoru moves to snatch it immediately but you put it behind your back. Of course, if he wanted, he’d just grab it, but your Nii-chan would never deny playing a game with you. “You can’t get it until we’re back on campus! I’m already tired and this is my bribe to go home early.”

“But (y/n)-chan,” he whines.

“Nu-uh. I promised a movie night with Toge and Yuta and I don’t wanna be late.” You realize too late you revealed too much, because your brother suddenly looks like a very successful cat.

“Why didn’t you just say so? I would never make my little sister late for her first date.”

You blush furiously, “Who says it’s my first?”

“It better be your first.”

“It’s not even a date,” you roll your eyes. “Neither like me like that, and if it was a date, wouldn’t one be a third-wheel?”

“Tricycles are pretty fun.” Your brother says casually. You roll your eyes again and add a gag for good measure. “Seriously, (y/n). You should know you have my full support to love anyone and everyone you want. Not that you need it, though. You’re a Gojo. We do as we please anyways.”

You tear up at his sincerity and throw your arms around your brother, or at least the best you can with his bags in the way. The two of you are frequently physically and verbally affectionate but not often in such a serious manner. You know there’s a deep love between you; for a long time, the two of you only had each other. Eventually, your family expanded to include Megumi and Tsumiki, but neither ever took the Gojo name. You and Satoru had a special bond. “Thank you,” you stutter around tears. You hope he understands it’s not just a thank you for the reassurance but a thank you for giving you such a life.

“Come on, no crying. You can’t go on your date with puffy eyes, you’ll scare both of them away.” He pats your head softly and just laughs when you punch him in the gut.