#we laughed for about half an hour i‘m not even kidding

[sweetyyhippyy]

Excuses. Eddie Muson x Fem! Reader *ANGST*

*NOT MY GIF*

Summary: Eddie doesn’t show up on a date with his girlfriend. She proceeds to go off on him. 

Word Count: 1.7k

TW: Used the word “fuck” a lot. Mention of smoking/weed. Arguing. Eddie being sad. Happy ending. 

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

10:24pm.

Over 2 hours late for dinner that he promised he would be on time for.

They hadn’t had a date night in over a month because one of them was busy with something, whether it was work, Eddie’s band, Hellfire club meetings, or Eddie meeting with customers.

She chewed the inside of her cheek in anger, her fingers tapping at the table in annoyance and anger as she stared at the empty chair across from her.

“Ma’am?” The young waitress sheepishly comes back to the lonely table of one, with an apologetic look on her face. “I know you said you were waiting for someone else and then you would order, but I’m actually closing out for the night and was wondering if you still wanted to order?”

She could tell the poor girl felt horrible about asking her question. “Actually, no. I‘m going to head out actually. Here’s some cash to cover the drinks and because I wasted your time. I’m sorry.” She sighs, handing over some money to the girl and walking out of the restaurant.

With each step she took, the clacking of her heels on the asphalt to her car only made her more angry. Eddie had never made her this angry but here she was, sitting in her car with red hot ears and blood.

He better have a damn good reason as to why he wasn’t at dinner.

***

She pulled up to their trailer, seeing that Eddie’s van was parked outside in its usual spot.

“You fuck.” She spits to herself, grabbing her purse and throwing the driver's side door open, getting out quickly, shutting it with all her strength.

She storms up the few steps to the door, unlocking the door and ripping it open.

The front room was filled with a slight haze of smoke, the strong smell of weed hitting her instantly.

She spots her boyfriend sitting on the couch with a half smoked joint between his lips, his head snapping up to look at her.

“Hey! I was wondering where you’ve been, babe.” Eddie smiles, taking the joint out of his mouth and exhaling a plume of smoke. “You look goddamn beautiful. Where were you?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Where was I? You really don’t know where I was, Eddie?” She narrows her eyes at him, slamming the front door shut.

Eddie looked at her confused, putting the joint out in the ashtray. “What is going on?”

She laughs in anger, tossing her purse onto the couch. “I was at Joyride fucking waiting for you to show up for a date that you promised, fucking promised me, you would be here for!” She shouts, throwing her arms around as she yells.

“Wait, Joyride?” He mutters, still lost.

“Are you kidding me, Eddie? One date was all I asked for! We haven’t had time for each other in over a month! You promised me this morning before you left for work that you would meet me at the restaurant at 8!”

Eddie sighs heavily, rubbing his chin. “Shit, I’m sorry baby.”

Fucking sorry.

“I am so sick to fucking death of your ‘sorry’ bull shit, Eddie!” Her voice strains toward the end of the sentence. “It’s always ‘oh, baby, I’m sorry I forgot’, ‘oh, baby, I’m sorry, something came up,’, ‘oh, baby, I’m sorry I haven’t seen you in 2 days because I don’t fucking come home until you’re already asleep’. I’m fucking sick of it!”

“Baby, calm down, please. It’s just that…” He was scrambling at this point, slightly terrified because he had never seen his girl this mad, and especially mad at him.

“It’s just what?” She interrupts him, walking toward him on the couch. “What’s the excuse this time, Eddie? Band rehearsal? Or playing that stupid fucking game with your little high school friends? Or were you selling drugs to cheerleaders again? Which one is it?”

Eddie stayed silent, looking down at his hands in shame.

“So you have no excuse? Not even going to try lying?” She was inches away from where he’s sitting, still yelling at him.

“Anything I say is just going to make you even more mad.” He mutters, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Don’t you think I have a reason to be mad? I waited for you for almost 2 hours at the restaurant! The poor waitress knew that I got stood up, but what she didn’t know was that it was my own fucking boyfriend that did it.” She spits, turning to walk away toward their bedroom.

“Babe, please.” He catches her arm, standing up finally.

“Please what?” She pulls her arm back, looking up at him. “Tell me what was so important that you forgot about the promise you made to be there? It’s not like I asked for much, Eddie. All I wanted was one night with you because I miss you.”

He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. That last sentence killed him. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck your sorry.” She spits, walking away down the narrow hallway of the trailer, slamming their bedroom door shut behind her.  

***

Eddie had been sitting in front of their bedroom door for hours, his back and head resting against the door, picking at the rips in his jeans.

He knew that he was slacking as a boyfriend. They barely spent any time together lately. He was working a lot of hours at the garage he worked at, plus he still wanted to make time for his band and for Hellfire. She was really put on the back burner in his life and he was so blind to it.

He really didn’t know if it was smart for him to open the door and talk it through with her. She was definitely still going to be mad at him, and rightfully so.

There was a lump in his throat the size of a grapefruit, tears welling in eyes every so often that he had to blink back.

Part of him was terrified his worst fear was going to come true and that she was going to leave him. Ever since day one, the little voice in the back of his mind would taunt him by saying “she’s going to leave and never come back”. He did anything and everything to keep her happy that way she didn’t leave and never come back.

What if this was the thing that made her see he truly was a loser that didn’t deserve her?

His eyes stung with tears at the thought of him waking up in the morning to her with her bags packed saying she was leaving.

***

There was a few reasons why she couldn’t sleep; she was still upset with Eddie, the bed was empty, and it was way too quiet. Usually Eddie’s snoring lulled her to sleep.

Sunlight started to seep in through the makeshift curtains in their room, birds chirping from outside.

She sighs before throwing the sheets off of her as she gets out of bed, grabbing a pair of shorts from the clean laundry basket in the corner of the room and sliding them on.

The rest of the trailer was quiet, she wasn’t even sure if Eddie was home anymore. She walks toward the door, opening it a crack just to see if Eddie was walking around somewhere. She sees a shadow on the floor by the door, not quite making it out yet.

She opens the door a little more to see Eddie laying on his side on the floor asleep. Her heart hurt seeing him curled up on the floor fast asleep. She kneels onto the floor next to him, shaking his shoulder lightly.

“Eddie, wake up.” She says in the same soft voice she used every other morning to wake him up.

His body shifts slightly, still asleep through her trying to wake him up.

“Eddie, hey come lay in bed. Wake up.” She brushes some of his curls out of his face.

Eddie finally jolts awake, his head looking atone at the different scenery than what he was used to. Finally he looks up at her, his face instantly reading sad. “Hey.” He sits up and slides to lean his back up against the wall.

She joins him on the floor, sitting up against the wall on the opposite side, their legs touching. “Can we talk about last night?”

Eddie doesn’t look up at her, choosing to look at his palm instead. “Do you want to?”

“Yes. I feel horrible that I went off on you the way I did. I hated yelling at you.”

He finally looks over at her, noticing her eyes were puffy from crying. “I get it though. I fucked up really bad. I’ve sucked as a boyfriend lately, not making time for you. I didn’t pay enough attention to see it though.” He sighs heavily and shaky. “I get it if you want to leave.”

“Leave? Eddie I’m not going to leave after one fight. Especially if it’s something that we can talk through.” The tone in her voice sounded so hurt that he even brought up her leaving. “You thought I was going to leave you?”

Eddie shrugs and nods his head. “Yeah kinda… I’ve had this fear of you leaving me since we first got together. You are way too good for me, sometimes I can’t believe that you’re still with me because you really could have your pick of anyone in the world, and you chose me.” Eddie sniffles, not wanting to cry in front of her.

“I’m with you because I love you. It’s going to take something a lot worse for me to just up and leave you, Eddie. The fact that you’re willing to talk through our problem and work on it and change is all I want. I was so angry with you last night, I didn’t give you a fair chance to explain. All I did was yell at you and I didn’t want to accept your apology even though I knew you meant it. I’m sorry I was so horrible to you, Eddie.”

“I promise I’m not going to do this again. Any and every date night I’ll be there, I promise.”

She moves to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his. “It’s still early, can you come back to bed with me? I missed you snoring in my ear all night.”

[jbbuckybarnes]

Scared & Sacred - Ch. 3

Pairing: Din Djarin x pregnant!Reader

Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible.

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff, helmetless Din, canon divergent, not proofread

M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter 3 - Comfortable

Omera closed in on you right after you landed with happiness written all over her face. „Mando, Princess, Greenling.“ She bowed slightly as a hello and got a tiny coo in return from Din‘s arms. „Omera.“ You hugged her close to you, noticing the little village flourishing. „What brings you here?“ She smiled over to Din who took a step forward to be next to you again. „We aren‘t hunted anymore and we really needed a break. The little one loved it here last time, so we figured we would come here for a while.“ You explained and took Grogu who started to fuzz. „You are always welcome here, after everything you did.“ She nodded and showed you to follow her to her hut. There was a loud squeak in your arms when Grogu saw the children playing. You grinned and walked towards Winta which noticed you seconds later. „Have an eye on him, yeah?“ You set Grogu down in front of her and got an eager nod back.

„I‘ll make sure food will be ready for you later. Get comfortable.“ You heard Omera as you walked in. „Actually, I‘d love to help around.“ Din spoke up and got a slightly surprised face back. „I think they could always use help chopping wood.“ She pointed at a couple of men in the distance and he nodded and went off. The pretty woman faced you, „He‘s so different, what happened?“ You smiled back at her, „We met many people on our journey. Made him softer. And I think having me around helped a lot.“ „I‘m sure. Your green child looks well loved by the both of you.“ She looked out of the window with you at the children. „Lost him for a while, got him back, started a bedtime routine, fell in love with his dad. You know, the usual things happening when you‘re suddenly parents.“ You noticed her facing you. „Oh? I know there was something else different between you two.“ A wide smile spread on her face. „It might be a little more obvious on him now than it was a couple weeks ago. I am with child.“ You looked at her too and your hand automatically wandered to where you knew your little wonder was. „Really? That‘s amazing! I‘ll bombard you with all my tips if you let me!“ She jumped a little and went in for a hug that you returned. „I‘ll let you.“ You chuckled at her happiness, „But I really missed having a normal bed and Grogu kept me up half the night, so I‘ll probably sleep early tonight.“ „Grogu? Is that his name?“ „A Jedi woman told us that‘s his name, yes. You need to call him that and listen to the sound he makes. It‘s adorable.“ You both chuckled. „Well, I‘ll leave you to it with the unpacking and bring you food in a while. You need rest.“ She softened more than she already did and then went her way.

A while later Din came back to the hut, smelling like forest already. „You smell nice, cyare.“ You smiled up, grabbing onto his chest plate. „It‘s cute when you say it, mesh‘la.“ He took off his gloves and threw them behind him before taking your face into his hands. „And what does that mean?“ Your hands went up to the helmet. „Beautiful.“ You released the helmet with a hiss and saw his hair all tousled up. „What‘s the word for handsome?“ You smirked before hearing a gasp in the entrance. „I‘m so sorry.“ Omera had turned away. „No, no. It‘s okay, I learned my religion was more intense about the helmets than other Mandalorian groups and others take that thing off when it‘s safe.“ Din explained and she turned around to look at you both. „I have to agree with her. You do look handsome.“ She grinned and set down the tray of food, „Your child will look gorgeous.“ Din looked over to you and you gave him a slight nod. „That is still surreal from a mouth that isn‘t hers.“ He pointed at you and Omera giggled. „You men always need a while to let it set in. Us women just know.“ She winked at you both before making her exit.

You turned back to Din, seeing the soft smile directed down at you. „Do you think it‘s a boy or a girl?“ He murmured, grabbing your hips. „Grogu said a girl.“ His brow rose up, „Showed him veggies as either option. His babbling while holding up the tukal root was really convincing.“ You both chuckled at that. He knew how expressive Grogu could get without you two understanding one bit. „What do you think?“ You asked up at him with a smile. „I asked you first.“ „Don‘t argue with a pregnant woman, Din.“ He chuckled and shook his head, „I‘d love a girl. I‘m starting to think we‘ll keep Grogu with nobody searching for him after the Tython mess.“ „A boy and a girl sounds perfect to me too.“ You went onto your tippy toes and kissed him on the nose. You gently got rid of his armor, something you had only done with his pauldrons before the news broke. This was an immense sign of trust for both of you. „If you change your underclothes too and walk out to get Grogu they‘ll think someone invaded their village again.“ You snorted and heard a laugh emitting above you. „I‘m willing to try. Omera would at least be able to defend me with her skills.“ „I’ll just watch the show from my window.“

After putting on a different undershirt and dark green pants they gave their guests, he walked out towards the children. You watched the town perk up at the view of the unknown man. „Grogu.“ You heard his signature coo at his name. „Hey, what are you doing with that child?“ A village man asked as Din picked Grogu up. „Yeah, who the hell are you?“ Another joined in and you snorted from the window, making the men look over. „Oh.“ You heard in a choir. „It‘s alright. It‘s great to know that you would keep him safe if we weren���t there to defend him.“ Din smiled at them and heard a giggle from his arms. „You hungry, kid?“ A squeak came back at him and he came back to the hut with a chuckle. „That was funny and sweet.“ You giggled before taking Grogu towards you to feed his food to him slowly so he didn‘t get a belly ache like last night.

After you put Grogu into his little bed and put a blanket over it to keep it dark in the morning hours you returned to Din sitting on the bed comfortably. „It‘s so incredible seeing you so relaxed, so yourself. I feel like I’m falling in love all over again.“ He smiled at you widely. „Come here, cyar‘ika.“ He held his arms open and welcomed you in. You sat like that for a while, feeling little kisses all across your hair. „Tell me more about yourself, Din. I wanna know the father of my child better and help him be a person without his serious creed.“ You murmured and squeezed him. Half the night was spent with him recounting events he remembered from childhood, his parents dying and what it felt like growing up in the Mandalorian religion. It was like you had a new man in front of you. The once silent armored man had turned into a trusting haven of words. He was very expressive due to never having had to worry about that before, but you loved that about him even more. He had his emotions open to you like nobody else before. „You need to sleep.“ He urged you softly, noticing your eyes getting smaller and smaller while listening. „Maybe.“ You mumbled and he gently pushed you to lay down with a grin on his face. „You need rest, you‘re growing a human inside of you.“ He kissed your nose. „That you put there, may I add. After I was hurt.“ You giggled all droopy. „You‘re cute when you‘re sleepy. Did I ever tell you that?“ His fingers wandered over your face featherlight. „Not a man of many words.“ You giggled and he chuckled at how sleepdrunk you were. „Little hard to describe someone as pretty as you.“ He watched you smile at him. „I love you.“ „I love you too.“ And like that you were gone off to dreamland.

__

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[marvel-ousnesss]

Hand in Hand

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Y/N and Harry the night of the Brits.

word count: 2806

masterlist 

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so sorry for any typos or mistakes. Lots of love 💜💜💜

“Y/N, Y/N!”

You approached the source of the storm of voices with a wide grin on your face. You still couldn't hide the thrill that your fans brought you, nor you could stop yourself from just hanging with them for a bit. You ambled through the red carpet exchanging smiles and posing for selfies until you reached the end of the path.

When you stepped inside, you greeted a few other people who had arrived at the event and went to freshen up a bit so you could pose for some photos.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and grinned widely. You felt like the girl singing covers in her room, yet here you were, attending your first-ever music awards as a nominee —with one of the best albums of the year under your arm.

As you made your way back from the restroom, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, they spoke.

"Well hey, fancy seeing you here.” Harry's voice was raspy, tinted with mischief.

You stopped, turned toward him with an amused half-smile.

"Right back at you,” you joked back. “Do you come here often?"

He exhaled a fruity laugh and smiled at you, finally allowing his gaze to drift down onto your figure and then back to up to meet your own. "You look… wow."

He made you blush with almost no effort but you were quick to cover it up, doing your best to get rid of the tension that seemed to constantly glide around the two of you.

"Well, don't you look 'wow' yourself", you smirked.

It had been going on for a few months now; flirting here and there, hanging out at parties, and even a few dates which you had tried to keep out of the spotlight. Nevertheless, headlines hadn't stopped gushing on about 'the newest, freshest face of the industry' and the 'beloved, eclectic Harry Styles.'

Looping your arm around his you subtly prompted him to continue walking toward the awaiting cameras, where you were headed before bumping into him. He obliged, smoothly guiding you through the crowd of crew members, press, and artists.

After a moment of hesitation, his hand traveled to the small of your back. When you felt his tender fingers against the silk of your gown, you lifted your head to look at him.

"So, what’s the game-plan for tonight?”

“Y’know how ‘t goes,” he explained. “Step one: performance, step two: get hold of all the tiny statues, step three: world domination.”

You laughed, but insisted, “really, how’re you doing; ready?”

Even if he seemed to be perfectly collected, you knew that tonight’s show had his head spinning. This was gonna be his first live performance of the year, and, to be honest, you thought it was admirable that he decided to go through with it after what had happened that weekend.

“‘m just a mess of nerves and excitement right now. Tonight needs to be brilliant.”

He didn’t wanna talk about Caroline’s death and you were ok with it, so you didn’t push on the topic.

“I’m sure it’ll be. The whole album’s just amazing; and, you know, the guy who sings it isn’t that bad either.”

He chuckled lightly, then sighed, “just hope I make it justice.”

You smiled, “you will.”

That’s when you found yourselves between the gray wall upholstered with logos and brand names and the army of photographers equipped with cameras of all sizes.

You both faced them and quickly displayed your best angles.

Offering a smirk as he fixed the collar of his blazer, Harry asked, “what ‘bout you, eyes on the prize, I assume?”

You turned around with grace, so that the back of your outfit was visible, then faced the cameras over your shoulder.

“Well, yeah,” you sighed dramatically. “But, to be frank, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep them there with you looking so dashingly handsome.”

His eyes widened for a second and he let out a ringing laugh, his cheeks reddening slightly. It was truly a beautiful sight. However, no longer than a moment later, he concealed the gentle blush with a snort and a devious grin, which he directed at the cameras.

“I know ’m irresistible, love,” he smirked. “And I hate to tell you this, but I‘m ‘a be professional tonight, no funny business.” His tone was dripping with feigned seriousness.

"Your loss," you flipped your hair.

_______

You guided Y/F/N to the table where your team had been placed. Being honest, she was thrilled to be there with you, but also quite surprised that you had honored the promise you both made back in middle school. When you had first told her about your YouTube channel —after a fair amount of bugging on her part—, she had shown complete support and joked about being your date to the met gala. But, as the met was still clearly out of your league and you had missed the Grammys because of your mom’s birthday, here you were.

She already knew your manager so you introduced her to the rest of them before taking a seat, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening.

The first few minutes were full of laughter and conversation. When the event officially began, you watched the presentations with a gaping mouth and cheered hastily when every award was presented.

Before you knew, it was already time for Harry’s performance. You bit the inside of your lip when he climbed upstage, effortlessly rocking a lace jumpsuit that gave a deific, but simple air to him.

“Can’t believe you turned that down to bring me,” your friend whispered to you.

“Seriously?, my first ever-awards were something I needed to share with you, dork.”

“Awww, friend.”

“Aww”, you mocked, then hit her shoulder lightly. “Shush, let me listen.”

Everything happening on stage was truly breathtaking. You mouthed the lyrics as your gaze followed his every move. His eyes were full of stars and his voice was so flooded with emotion that it made chills run down your spine.

“I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth if he ever fucks up.”

Those words somewhat pulled you out of your daze-like state. Part of you wanted to ask her what she meant, but it was no use. For her, you were an open book, so you didn’t even try to hide how bad you had fallen.

Only with a glance your way, Y/F/N managed to catch the way in which your eyes twinkled when you looked at him and the way you blushed ever so slightly when she brought him up.

You tried to conceal the impact of her words with a sip of your drink, to which she responded with a smug wink.

The following half an hour or so went by uneventful. You nearly fainted when Lizzo performed, and it didn’t get better when you discovered she was but a few tables away from you, next to where Harry had been placed. A couple of categories where presented and the moment you dreaded the most arrived.

Celeste was flawless on stage, and you couldn’t be happier for her. Yet, as you listened to her song, your brows were glued in a frown and the corners of your mouth seemed to weigh a ton. It was time for the rising star award, and then came international female solo —to which you had been nominated.

You turned your head to the side when you heard the scratching of a chair against the floor, and offered a quivering smile to Harry, who had not so discreetly sneaked to your table.

“Hey,” he mumbled, taking hold of one of your hands under the table.

“Hey.”

Celeste’s speech, which ended before you would’ve wanted, was followed by Sporty’s introduction to your category. You tried to stay positive as the nominees were announced.

Y/F/N managed to dodge Harry and get her hand on your shoulder. She gave him an awkward attempt of a smile, then looked at you. “You got this.”

You nodded at her words but, not so deep down, you knew this wasn’t gonna be your year.

“I’m so excited, they’re all so brilliant,” Sporty began.

Harry’s grip tightened on your hand while she opened the envelope, and you barely heard him mumble, “come on.”

That’s when the winner was announced. Billie’s name echoed through the speakers across the place and your face fell for a few seconds.

You were quick to recover and clapped just as eagerly as you had for the rest of the winners, but the smile plastered on your face quivered a bit as you swallowed a wave of disappointment.

That changed when she got to the stage, that’s when utter pride kicked in. While Billie said a few words in acceptance of the award, Jack Whitehall made his way to the table and squeezed a chair between you and Harry. You let out a snicker as he clumsily tried to sit comfortably, then you moved a bit back.

He was given his cue by the camera guy and began.

“Congratulations, to Billie Eilish! Now, I’m just so excited to be here with this power couple who, for some reason, are not officially a couple yet.”

"Glad to have you."

His eyes drifted between the two of you, then settled on Harry. “Harold, you’ve been coming to the brits for 10 years. Not to make you feel old.” Then he looked at you. “Y/N, on the other hand, this is your very first time here.”

"Yup," you chuckled. "Total newbie."

“Sorry for the stock question, but how’s it feeling so far? Kidding, we don’t wanna talk about that, do we? I bet you’ve already got at least five rehearsed versions of the answer to that question.”

You snorted.

“Let’s get to the point here.“ Jack leaned closer to the table, to which you responded by mimicking his posture. “Ever since the ‘Up All Night’ era, when Harold here was just a lad with his little bow tie and a mop on his hair, he’s been a ladies man.

Harry scoffed and waved his hand dismissively.

"And, as such, he can only be paired to someone like you,“ he pointed his finger at you in mock accusation, “my dear Y/N, who has been leaving a fair share of lads and ladies’ hearts broken —including my own— ever since your very flare-up on that strange platform which somehow houses both Rebecca Black’s ‘Friday’ and your phenomenal album ‘Tears of Blade’. However, putting my broken heart aside, I wanna Know… you didn’t come as each other’s date, why’s that?"

Harry took a sip of his drink, "I tried, but she turned me down."

Jack faked shock. "Should I get my hopes up then?"

"Oh no, none of that."You shook your head. "I just brought a friend tonight."

His mouth opened in realization, then he smirked, wiggling his brows. "Not to intrude, but… a special friend of yours or a friend friend."

You threw your head back, laughing, then said, "Jack, this is Y/F/N. Y/F/N, Jack."

"Hi." She stretched out her hand, which the host gladly took.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he gushed.

——————————

You struggled to stay awake in the car to your place, your eyelids didn’t seem to be obeying you anymore and your head was feeling too heavy for you to lift. Harry chuckled when he looked at you, bringing you closer to him so you could use him as a pillow. For the rest of the ride, he quietly hummed to the music playing and did what he could to ignore the feeling of numbness that was beginning to invade his arm.

You woke up when the car stopped and raised your head, scanning your surroundings. When your gaze met Harry’s, you smiled. He grabbed your purse and helped you out of the car, then you both took the lift to your apartment.

"Make yourself at home," you said, taking off your coat and shoes.

"Thanks, love." He hanged his blazer on the rack by the door, together with his vest and the purple pashmina that adorned his neck.

After changing into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, you made your way to the living room and found Harry, neck deep into your fridge. That's when you recalled you hadn't done any grocery shopping.

"Tell me if you find something, my fridge's just sad to even look at," you jested, standing behind him.

"S'not that bad. I mean, carrots, beer, tortillas, we could do wonders out of this," he scoffed, still looking for something worth looting.

After no avail, he closed the door.

"Or… we could order pizza."

He chortled, "Y/N/N, we ate like an hour ago."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

He sighed, letting himself fall to the couch in fake exasperation. "Woman, you’re a bad influence." Now, that was a yes.

You giggled when he ended up sitting on the floor, then taunted, "worried your Gucci suits won’t fit you anymore?"

"Ha-ha very funny." Harry settled on the floor, grabbing one of the decorative pillows.

"C’ mere," he patted the spot beside him.

"The couch’s right there."

"So?"

"So?" you mocked, "you come here." You clumsily sat on the couch, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the floor. You let out a squeal but, taking advantage of the boost he had given you, managed to place yourself on top of him, caging his body between yours and the couch.

You were about to gloat, but he placed a hand on your waist and used the weight of his body to push you back, turning the cards.

"You got me where you want me, what are you gonna do?" When you spoke, your voice came out quieter than intended.

Harry's hand found the hem of your shirt and he began tugging it faintly, brushing your skin ever so slightly. He looked at your lips for a moment, then your eyes.

"'Ve got a few ideas-" his words were drowned by the doorbell ringing.

"Fuck," he groaned, head burying in the crook of your neck. Your fingers curled around his silky locks, then you mumbled, "I have to get up, you know."

He grumbled something else, but you pushed him off you.

You received the pizza and locked the door, proceeding to put the cardboard box on the marble counter. As you cut the tape with a small knife, Harry joined you in the kitchen. Stepping behind you, he placed his hands on your sides and a kiss on the line where your neck met your shoulder.

"Patience is a virtue, Harold," you teased.

"Don't care."He rested his head on your shoulder but his hands carried on with the feathery strokes.

Just then, you opened the box and swiftly turned around, giving him a quick peck before stepping out of his grasp.

"Help yourself," you instructed while grabbing two beers from the fridge.

After giving him one, you took hold of a slice and walked toward your previous spot on the living room floor. "Don’t know bout you, but I’m starving."

Harry followed with the box in hand, after settling once again, he placed the box between the two of you and grabbed the remote control.

You shook your head and scoffed, "all that wailing and you're just as hungry as I am."

"Not my fault that the bloody doorbell killed the mood." He took another bite.

Three beers per head later, as the credits of Dirty Dancing rolled up the screen, the pizza had been discarded long ago. You hummed to the credits song as your head rested on his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands playing with your hair.

"Thanks for tonight," he mused.

"What d'you mean?" You adjusted yourself so that you were looking up at him.

"Just, you know, "he hesitated, finding the words. "You made sure it was a great night."

Your mouth opened in realization before you smiled, lifting one of your hands to his cheek. “That's what 'm here for." Then you sat up, and joked, "besides, 's only fair to admit that, for a business night, it was fun."

"You break my heart, love" he sighed, "all your business partners get after parties like tonight’s?"

"Nah," you avowed, "just the cute ones."

"I'm relieved, then." He pulled you to him by the waist.

You beamed, throwing your head back, "you're unbelievable."

When you straightened up, after your laugh died down, his gaze found your lips once more and he leaned in. "Can I kiss you?"

Your hands moved up to the back of his neck and, without a word, you pressed your lips to his.

Requests open!

[91percentpynch]

kevin day as a singer/ songwriter

IT‘S KEVIN DAY BITCHES YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS - originally this was supposed to be a kevin day writing songs, soft wholesome au thingy, it ended up in kevaaron angst with a happy ending. but i put conan gray songs out of kevin‘s point of view as a bonus??? so it‘s still singer/ songwriter kevin??

kevin day has always loved music. he loved it when his mother sang him lullabies when he couldn‘t sleep, when they danced around the kitchen screaming the words to the song from the radio on the top of their lungs, loved it when she taught him how to play the piano and the guitar.

but like every other good thing evermore took this from him, once they snatched him and burried him alive. riko hated music, so naturally it was forbidden for all of them. no happiness, no light. only ever exy, exy, exy.

don‘t get it wrong, kevin loved exy. he was the son of exy. kayleigh found exy, kayleigh gave it to him, it was in his blood. it was in his soul. and it brought him closer to his beloved mother, to the woman who made his life good, who gave him light and happiness and left him back alone. gave him to them.

however just as exy was in his blood, so was music. so whenever he was alone with his partner he would quietly hum or sing a song his mother used to sing him.

when jean moreau arrived at the nest hell broke out. riko was jealous because kevin would spend more time with the new kid than him. kevin wouldn‘t give the king enough attention so all of his subjects had to suffer.

it got worse with every passing day, with every look that lasted just a second too long, with every conversation whispered softly in french, with every lullaby kevin would sing for jean when he was scared, with every embrace and late night talk. with every stolen kiss, they had to pay. well, jean had to pay. kevin had to remain untouched, no scar was allowed to be visible on his perfect face, on his hands or any body part visible. jean however? jean was never allowed to leave the nest, he was riko‘s, he belonged to riko like some doll he could stab or kick or do whatever he felt like to.

the day kevin told riko to stop, was the day riko lost his patience. kevin day got better in exy, he took his favourite toy away from him, he had the audacity to talk against his king.

kevin always knew riko was unpredictable when he was angry, that the world was just black and red when he was mad with anger, but he never in a million years thought that this anger would ever be against him. that he would have to feel what jean felt every single day.

but he did this day, when riko broke his hand. it was also the day when kevin decided that it was time for them to leave. for both of them, jean and him.

„we‘re going“, he whispered in french when he came back to their shared dorm room. „we‘re leaving. you and me. my father, wymack, he has an exy team on his own. the foxes. we‘re going to join them. because i will not leave you here, understood?“

„we can‘t go, he will find me and while he cannot kill you, he certainly can kill me. no one really cares about me, anyways“, jean replied.

„oh is that so? well i for that matter care about you, you beautiful french bastard and now take your five things and we‘re going“

„kevin, we can‘t. not both of us. that‘s way too suspicious“, jean tried to reason.

„darling, it‘s more suspicous when i go alone, now come. we don‘t have much time. riko will look for you soon, if he doesn‘t already. i know the way out, maybe, if we‘re fast we can go to a more growded place before he catches up on us, maybe we can even reach the bus or a taxi before he comes. we have to try, we cannot stay here. i for once must go to the hospital, the bastard broke my playing hand“

„i‘ll make sure he won‘t come after you, you go. go and forget me. go and leave me alone. it‘s only a few more months before i go, only a few more months before it‘s all over. you don‘t have to watch that. just, go“, jean said, his voice tired and filled with emotion.

„i will get you out of here and you will give live a chance. i promis you will see the sun again“, kevin replied, tears running down his cheeks as he leaned in for one last kiss. „i love you“, he whispered into the darkness as he turned to go. kevin never heard the reply, he wasn‘t sure he wanted to.

so kevin tiptoed to the backdoor and left. just like that. until this day he didn‘t know what jean had to go through for him to be able to leave like that but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

somehow he made his way to psu and found his place in the team. well, not exactly found a place. more like got adopted by a scary 5“0 tall, stabby boy, who promised to keep him safe, his twin brother and their cousin who scared the living crap out of him.

„what is our routine? do we have 16 hour days as well here? when is practice? and do we choose our majors ourselves or does the master choose them for us?“, kevin asked the others when they were alone in their dorm.

„do we have WHAT now?“, nicky asked. „dude, no we do not have 16 hour days, we, you know, want to like surive?“

„oh, are we allowed to listen to music or does the king not approve that?“, kevin asked instead.

„dude i don‘t know what fucked up shit they did in evermore but you‘re allowed to do whatever the fuck you want here. and dan would more be a queen, but we just call her dan or captain?“

„oh, okay“, kevin said before turning around and leaving the room. his chest tightened, his arm hurt, he just wanted back on the court. but he wasn‘t allowed on there until his left arm was doing alright, and as long as he wasn‘t on the court he couldn‘t train his right hand to play.

the only other thing that could calm him right now was music. the sound of a piano, the strings of a guitar against his fingers, the scratching of a pen against paper as the notes are written down on it.

kevin wandered through the fox tower, more lost than ever, and somehow found himself in a music room. a dusty piano stood under a bright window, an old guitar was in the corner next to an alomst ancient drum set.

almost automatically his feet brought him to the piano and he began playing. he played and played, as if his life depended on it and kevin felt calmer and lighter than he did in years. the voice of his mother was in his head, singing lullabies and placing a kiss on his forhead.

his right hand was playing the old lullabies he remebered while the left hand rested on his tigh

„that was good“, a voice said, bored and unimpressed. he turned around to see one of the twins watching him. it was the one who couldn‘t hide all of his emotions like the one with the knives.

„aaron, right?“, kevin asked, voice hoarse from crying.

„how do you tell us apart? not even nicky can tell us apart like 90% of the time and he‘s basically our mom“, aaron replied.

„well, it‘s a 50/50 chance, isn‘t it? i was just lucky“, kevin replied.

the music room became his place of safetey and calmness after that day. he would return whenever he felt lost or sad or upset. be it 2 am or the middle of the day.

and aaron would join him more and more often, may it to study because „your music helps me concentrate“ or just to watch kevin play while the sunbeams chased over his pretty face.

and if kevin slowly fell in love with aaron in those shared hours it was nobody‘s business

however it didn‘t look like aaron was into him anyways, as the joining kevin in the music room got less and less, and the time spent with kateyln from the vixens got more and more. and suddenly all of the songs kevin wrote were about aaron. all kevin thought about was aaron. he joined him in his dreams. the nightmares from evermore were replaced by kevin dying alone in a dark void while aaron laughed at him with katelyn by his side.

it was one of those late nights, one of the 2 am sessions where emotions took over and the truth was just easier to take. it was one of those nights that aaron decided to go into the music room, he didn‘t konw why. maybe it was katelyn telling him she wasn‘t into him anymore. it‘s not even been a month. or was it two? aaron never was good with telling weeks apart from days or hours. it was all the same blur of colors and voices and the ever so present need to be perfect. nothing less was acceptable.

„why would you ever kiss me? i‘m not even half as pretty. you gave her your sweater, it‘s just polyester, but you like her better, wish i were heather“, it was kevin‘s voice, like an angle, filled with pain and sadness. aaron sat down on the floor, just listening, wondering who the fuck heather was. and who the fuck would ever break his heart.

„watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put your arm ’round her shoulder, now i‘m getting colder. but how could i hate her, she‘s such an angle. but then again kinda wish she was dead, as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. brighter than a blue sky. she‘s got you mesmerized while i die. why would you ever kiss me? i‘m not even half as pretty. you gave her your sweater. it‘s just polyester, but you like her better. wish i were heather. wish i were heather. wish i were heather. why would you ever kiss me? i‘m not even half as pretty. you gave her your sweater it‘s just polyester, but you like her better. wish i were katelyn“, the last word was barely audible and aaron would have missed it if he wouldn‘t have moved closer to kevin while listening to his song.

„why would you want to be katelyn?“, he asked kevin as before he could stop himself.

as kevin turned around the moon let shadwos dance around his beautiful face. aaron could see that he was batteling with himself. that he was about to say something he wouldn‘t normally allow himself to say. show weakness and vulnerability when strenght was all he knew.

„because you like her better. because i want to be the one you kiss“, kevin whispered, looking at the ground. his hair falling into his face, hiding his expression.

aaron moved closer and closer. there were only a few inches between them now. softly he took kevin‘s chin in his hand and lifted it, forced him to meet his eyes. „well, what if you were heather?“, aaron asked, a small smile dancing around his lips.

„but- but katelyn is heather“, kevin whispered.

„well, kately found herself a girl. thea. she dumped me. and i‘m actually glad she did, i wanted you anyways. i just couldn‘t admit it. i thought it was wrong, unnatural. but if something this beautiful is sinful, i understand how adam was able to make the sin. if a fallen angle is wrong in god‘s eyes i have no answer what is right“

he closed the distance between them and placed a soft kiss on kevin‘s lips.

kevin, confused and drunk on the smell and taste of aaron, kissed him back. hungrier. needier.

the taller boy softly put his arms around the waist of the smaller one and pulled him closer. „you do not understand how long i‘ve been waiting to do this“, he whispered against aaron‘s lips.

„believe me, i do“.

the next day kevin took a guitar and a blanket after exy training, took aaron‘s hand and told him to come. together they went to the roof (where andrew and neil were making out, as usual) but they didn‘t mind they went to the other side, andrew‘s death glare on them but what‘s new, and filmed an accoustic version of heather kevin would then later on youtube. heather became their song (weird choice i know but it‘s the song where they kissed for the first time) and so so kevin‘s music career started.

kevin kept writing songs - mostly about aaron - throughout his exy career and published them. his fans loved his songs. his fans loved making conspiracy theories about who the songs are for. they‘re losing their shit when they found out it was aaron. after kevin retires he becomes a fulltime musician and eventually even goes on tour.

BONUS - CONAN GRAY SONGS OUT OF KEVIN‘S POV

grow - years, after evermore. after he starts therapy (and takes it seriously) and he feels like his life slowly but steadily becomes better. aaron and him have been dating for a year or two. he is ready to grow, to become his own person. to be himself and do whatever he wants. he is ready to go into the world. he is ready to show them that he queen of exy is not afraid anymore. that he is worthy and he knows it.

comfort crowd - aaron comforting kevin. aaron knowing when he needed to be with the foxes and when he needed some alone time. or some aaron-kevin-time. i do believe that the foxes becomes his comfort crowd, because they‘ve all been through shit and i refuse to believe that they wouldn‘t care about kevin as they did with neil once they learned what that poor boy had to bo through.

the story - kevin wrote that song about him and jean and the nest. the boy and the boy are him and jean. it‘s the story of their time there and the second verse is kevin‘s story of fleeing from evermore. and the refrain is a metaphor for life, because his life wasn‘t funny. or sweet. or pretty. and the „it could work for you and me. it‘s not the end of the story“ is about him and aaron. the last song verse is about jean and that he hopes that he finds his happy end with jeremy.

maniac - kevin wrote that one when katelyn came back to aaron and asked him to take her back cause the girl she thought she was madly in love with broke her heart. but aaron refused to take her back, told her to go back to her ratback and leave him alone. he‘s with kevin now and he doesn‘t need her anymore. she can‘t get him back.

affluenza - kevin wrote that for allison. i don‘t know the deep story behind that, the song just gives me allison vibes.

wish you were sober - kevin wrote that after the first party he went to with the foxes after he joined him and it‘s obviously about aaron. drunk aaron to be exactly. drunk aaron has a special place in kevin‘s heart.

the cut that always bleeds - that one was when aaron dated katelyn and told kevin about it and kevin just died a little bit inside whenever he did.

fight or flight - he wrote that before aaron told him how he felt about him. he just didn‘t know how to put his feelings into words so he just wrote that song.

lookalike - kevin wrote that before aaron and him started dating, but when jean and jeremy started to become closer. he didn‘t take that well at that time as he had a massive crush on both jean (who refused to talk to him) and jeremy (who never looked at him twice but still). and he just daydreamed about dating jeremy so much it almost felt like a betrayal when he started dating jean.

the king - honestly? aaron dating katelyn but nonetheless always coming back to kevin. kevin knows that. that‘s why he wrote the song.

(can we be friends?) - this is about jean/ jeremy when kevin didn‘t really have friends. jean/ jeremy at the time of the nest probably.

(online love) - this one‘s about jeremy. cause let‘s be honest, at least one of those songs is about jeremy.

crush culture - that one is the result of an angry 4 am song writing session when aaron dated katelyn and jj was just starting to date.

generation why - this one‘s for the millenials. his generation in this au.

heather - heather is aaron, basically he‘s talking about having a massive crush on aaron but aaron would never feel the same cuz he‘s obviously straight and madly in love with katelyn (= heather) who is just stunning and gorgeous and beautiful and so much better than kevin

overdrive - this one was written after the first time the twins and nicky took him to eden‘s. the time when kevin started to catch feelings for aaron.

[thatkidwhodreams]

Blind Date

Warnings: Some swearing, remember texts are in bold and italics

Masterlist

Summary: Your best friend has set you up on a date with a mystery man how will you take it?

Word Count: 2136

“WHAT?!!”

You had just heard the news from your dear friend Lorelai that she had set you up to go on a blind date with one of her other friends. To say you were pissed would have been an understatement.

“I would like to apologise, but you did always talk about how lonely you were and how you didn’t want to die alone. The funny thing is this guy I’ve set you up with is exactly the same and I wanted to put you both out of your misery.” She smiled sweetly.

You wanted to slap that smile right off her face. She knew that you hated the concept of blind dates. You didn’t like how it was a complete stranger and imagine a first date gone bad with an ugly man. Who in the world would want that? Not to mention the embarrassment you’d both feel if things didn’t work out. What if it was a fine man who looked like Massimo from that Netflix movie and you looked like a mere unattractive woman.

There were a lot of thoughts which went through your head as you thought whether the idea of a blind date would be good. You didn’t see what you had to lose but there were a lot of things that could go wrong. Especially with you watching blind date videos on YouTube and seeing how they always ended up having the deadest conversations with one another. You definitely did not want that. You’d rather talk to yourself than with someone who couldn’t keep a conversation going (which you had done multiple times) it was just exhausting having to think of something to get the other person to think of something to say that wasn’t “yeah”, “me too”, “okay”, “cool” or “same” the list could have gone on. 

“I’ll think about it. What’s this guy’s name anyway?” You asked. 

She looked at her nails and said “his name is Shawn, don’t worry he’s fine as hell. Your typical Prince Charming tall, dark and handsome.” 

“Hey, I thought I was the one going on this date with him. The way you make him out to be does not sound too bad at all.” You said as you nodded your head. Her mini description of him checked all the boxes for a perfect man in your head. But the real question was whether he had dead convo or not. 

“So say I did go, when is this thing scheduled?”

“Tomorrow.” Lorelai replied. “You honestly don’t have much time to think. Besides you wouldn’t want to let Prince Charming down. I’ve already sent him a picture of you because he was curious and he liked what he was seeing. You are a sight for sore eyes sis.” 

“So you can show him a pic of me without my permission but I don’t know what on earth he looks like? At least you know him and he’s not a complete stranger.” You said, sighing.

“Oh, silly me. I mean I was waiting till you actually met him so you can faint but I guess you can see a picture now.” She pulled out her phone and searched for the so-called Prince in her camera roll. 

She turned the phone to you and you are indeed impressed. It looked like a picture taken not so long ago, Shawn appeared to have the most beautiful chocolate curls which hung from his head into his face. He did need a bit of a haircut but if this date became something more you would tell him. His 6’2 frame wasn’t that tall compared to your 5’10 one but you knew you would have giant kids one day. 

You instantly shook your head and started questioning why you were thinking about a future with him all of a sudden. This was just going to be a tester that would most likely not work out. You laughed at how you thought of yourself ever being with someone was an experiment like you and the one who would date you were lab rats for your own scientific experiments.

You stood up and you heard your phone chime. You looked at the message and it appeared to be from an unknown number. 

Unknown: Hey x

The message read. You were really confused as to why anyone would say hey to you with an x. You were a grown woman for crying out loud, not some teen trying to score a date. You quickly replied.

You: I’m sorry, can I ask who this is? You may have the wrong number. This is not your teenage girlfriend.

After sending the message you groaned. Lorelai looked up and asked what was wrong you told her that a random number was texting you and as soon as you said that she had a look of realisation on her face.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I forgot to tell-“

“I swear Lorelai if you forget to tell me anything else I will kick you out of my house and I will stand that friend of yours up. Would you like that, huh?” 

Lorelai straightened up and to say she looked terrified was an understatement.

“Start talking NOW!” You shouted. The audacity of the bitch honestly, she set you up on some date and doesn’t reveal the whole package that comes with it.

“I may have also given Shawn your number so he can contact you. You know, get to know each other a little so you know that one of you isn’t a psychopath.” 

You shook your head and looked down at your phone as you received another message from the unknown number.

Unknown: I’m sorry, is this not Y/N? My apologies if it isn’t but I’ll have you know that I’m not a teenager! I‘m a grown ass man who thought this was my date. Also this is Shawn”

You managed to laugh at that response. Lorelai stared at you with a smile and said “so you’re getting it on now eh?”

“We are not getting anything on! Now go away”

“Lorelai held her hands up and said “sorry, sorry”

You quickly saved the number to your contacts as Shawn and responded to his message.

You: I’m sorry I thought you were someone else. Yes this is Y/N. Lorelai told me so much about you.

You tried to appear as friendly as possible seeing as you hadn’t gotten off to a good start.

Shawn: Same here. I must say you’re a sight for sore eyes. I cannot wait to meet you tomorrow.

You were flattered by his comments even though Lorelai had just told you exactly the same thing. Were you really a sight for sore eyes? You thought, maybe you really did have a chance of this becoming something more. You quickly typed.

You: Me neither I’ll be counting the minutes.

You might have just lied to him a little. You were counting the hours, but the hours left until disaster. You decided to head to bed and Lorelai insisted on staying the night to help you get ready. You were still a little annoyed at her so you told her to sleep on the sofa even though you had space on the bed.

The next morning, you were dreading getting up because that meant hours of panic and a day with Lorelai was enough, you didn’t need another.

You grabbed your phone and saw that Shawn had texted you.

Shawn: Good morning beautiful❤️

That was sweet. No one had ever done that for you before, yes you had been lonely your whole life. You replied.

You: Good morning.

You didn’t exactly know what else to do than to say it back. You were also testing to see if he cared enough to carry on a conversation and not just leave it at that. 

Shawn: 660 minutes and 30 seconds

You were a little confused so you checked the time and it was nearly 8:00. You googled how much time from 8:00 to 19:00 and indeed it was 660 minutes. 

You: Wow you’ve been counting haven’t you.

Shawn: I would love to say I have but just like you probably just did, I googled it.

You laughed. This man was exactly like you were. You sent him a short message of see you later and :D which was a little weird but you had to get ready.

Shawn had brightened your mood a little when the devil herself Lorelai walked in and bothered your spirits. 

“Good Morninnnggggg, I hope you slept well bitch because you’ve got a big day ahead of you. Plus I don’t wanna see no eye bags.” She said and you rolled your eyes.

“Leave me and my eye bags alone okay. It’s part of the luggage.” You laughed at your little joke. “Get it bags, luggage?” Lorelai only shook her head.

“Get in the shower now bitch you stink.” She said as she shoved you inside the shower. You didn’t take long in the shower usually but just to annoy her this time you took half an hour. Lorelai started banging on the door and you knew you had gotten to her. 

Somehow the devil managed to pick the lock and invade your shower. She opened the curtains and you screamed and turned the shower head to her. She shrieked and held her hand out as if it would do anything. You quickly turned the shower off and grabbed your towel to cover up quickly. 

“What the fuck Y/N?!” 

“What the fuck me?! What the fuck you?! Why did you do that?”

“You were taking too long! Jeez I didn’t know it was a crime to pick locks nowadays.” Lorelai said as she rolled her eyes.

“Actually yes it is a freaking crime! Are you stupid? How many people have you done that to?” You asked

“No one, just you. And my boyfriend, and that guy that came to use my bathroom after we fucked. Oh and my brother because he deserved it.” She laughed.

You gasped and shook your head. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The devil has been nominated for the peeping Tom award. You came out of the bathroom and told her to get out so you could change. 

You walked around in comfortable clothes for the next few hours. Every hour Shawn would send you a message and it would be him counting the minutes left till you met. Your heart fluttered every time you received a text from him.

It was nearing 6pm when you decided to get ready. You got out your favourite black dress and red heels. You could never go wrong with black. Lorelai helped you with your makeup, you weren’t sure how you managed to trust her with your face but it happened.

You received another message from Shawn but this time it wasn’t how many minutes you had till your date it was.

Shawn: Hey muffin I’m coming to pick you up in 10 minutes.

You: Muffin? And how do you know where I live?

Shawn: Lorelai gave me your address. Don’t worry she only gave it to me for the purpose of the date not so I can stalk you. Although I did look at your house through google maps and damn Y/N when can we move in together?

You burst out laughing when Shawn sent you this message. You didn’t know he could be so funny. You couldn’t wait for this date to happen. You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought you looked good. All that was left was for you to wait for Shawn. 

For the next 10 minutes you and Lorelai were busy making microwaved brownies and boy did that shit burn badly. You both managed to laugh away your sadness as you were both looking forward to eating some when you heard a knock on the door.

You opened the door to find a figure towering over you. You looked up to find Shawn with a handful of roses and he handed them over to you. You said a quick ‘thank you’ as you examined him. His hair was nicely styled but still long as ever. His red suit coordinated with your black dress and you could not forget the bright smile which stood on his face. He was absolutely breathtaking and you were stunned when you saw him do a quick bow and proceed to speak.

“Well my beautiful muffin, shall we?” You took his hand as he led you to his car. You both got in and you couldn’t fight the smile on your face. Shawn appeared to be in the same boat as you were as he couldn’t stop looking at you. You blushed a little until he started the car and you drove off to your destination.

Part 2?

Taglist: @begginyouformendes​ @fallinfortom​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @shawnscxlvins​ @wholesomemendes​ @theshawnmendesstorycollection​ @goldenhemmings​ @abcdefanfics​ @2018shawn​ @lavenderhoneymndes​ @soft-petey​ @tastymendes​

^^This is where I clocked that I don’t have friends😂.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this hence why I love this with all my heart. Yes I am 5′10. I actually laughed a few times whilst writing this. Do you think it’s creepy that Shawn was counting the minutes? I find it really sweet that people actually like my writing, so thank you. Tell me what you think, feedback is always appreciated I don’t bite I promise❤️. 

[fichtner-fics]

More Than This (Alex Mahone)

Request: Could you do a Alex Mahone x Reader love/hate relationship? And a angst/fluff? (They end together)

Warnings: swearing, argue, mention of blood and death

A/N: I got my first request for a story, yay! Thank you so much, dear anon!! To be honest, I have NEVER written fighting/arguing scene in my life, I guess because basically I’m a conflict-avoiding type-o-person. I hope it’s not that terrible, and you had something like this in mind. 🥺 Tell me what you think. ✨💕 [well this came out longer than I expected, sorry😂 ; GIF’s not mine]

- . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . - 

We were working on a long and difficult case in the office. It started for 3 weeks now, and though we saw the light at the end of the tunnel, the great breakthrough, the final piece, the last clue was missing. We got that on one afternoon, to be exact, a phone call came in to Alex Mahone’s office, who was the leader of our team.

To be honest, I had no clue where we were with him. We had the potential to fight even about the tiniest details, but we shared some great laughs and kind moments as well. These few times were just enough for me to completely fall for him. His beautiful blue eyes mesmerized me, his smile (when he smiled at least) was wide and honest, and he looked just breathtaking in his sunglasses. I was his inferior for three years now, just enough time for develop strong and desperate feelings. This was the reason why our arguments broke me every single time.

When the call came in, Mahone immediately gathered us in the common room to give us some vision how the raid was going to take place. Everybody got their tasks in order, and I wasn’t too nervous when he left me for last. Much more when it turned out why he did that. Alex asked me to stay in the office just to hold the fort, as he said. I got some pity tasks like follow them on the radar, stay in touch with the center, but come on, they were going to the field. At first I hadn’t found my words, and when I was ready to reply angrily, they were far gone and I was left alone – for about the seventh time in the past one-and-half or two years. Alex just didn’t let me go to the field – and this was one of the main reasons why we were fighting about the most.

Today was the moment when I got enough. I took the keys of my car, got in and headed straight forward to the abandoned storage where they were assuming the location of our suspect. After my arrival and check-in, things happened fast. At the first moment I was walking quietly in the subdued light of a corridor, and at the next I suddenly heard Alex’s scream, then he jumped, pushed me to the ground and some shots were fired too. I realized only several moments later, when he asked for ambulance in the built-in microphone of his vest, that he saved me from the bullet of the killer. He didn’t left me alone but he didn’t talk to me either as we walked down the corridor. My hands were shaking, my shoulder on which I landed was on fire, and he gave a shit about me. Halfway we met the medical team. Alex told them in a few words what happened, then he left us alone – and me, broken.

  After being showed out by some medical technicians, I was given a huge aluminium foil against the cold and the potential shock. They checked my blood pressure, my pupils, and an ambulance man examined my shoulder too. I couldn’t really move my left arm, but at the time that was the last thing I cared.

My eyes were following Mahone as he walked up and down in the parking lot, while speaking on the phone. My heart was aching even more than my shoulder. I cursed myself for all the things I felt for that man, and at the moment I hated everything. I hated the way he could weaken me so that I’d give anything for him, his shiny, beautiful ocean-blue eyes, that could see right through anybody, that could burn in anger and even laugh sincerely when his lips were laughing too.

I thought if I follow them, though I act controversary his demand, the help would be greater, that nothing matters what were before – who the hell would have thought that it could turn out this bad.

When Alex finished his conversation, my heart jumped. I truly hoped he cared enough to come and check on me, but that didn’t happened. I got enough, stood up and walked to him.

  “I don’t want to talk to you” he said coldly when he saw me, not even looking into my eyes. I literally froze.

“Excuse me?” I asked back, but I was too late. “Alex, for God’s sake, would you listen to me for just one time? Please?” I yelled firmly as he turned his back on me, as he did for millions of times. He stopped for a sec, and I frankly thought he were about turning back – but this wasn’t happened. Alex walked straight away towards his car, as there was no one trying to talk to him, nobody broken and confused.

  Some colleagues of mine were kind enough to drive me back to our office an hour later. Just in the second when I stepped into the common room, an other one, who got back earlier than us, told me that Mahone was raving and wanted to see me as soon as possible. I sighed, thanked her the information, and looked towards the door of our boss. I knew it was going to be long and loud, so as I walked I tried preparing my soul for anything and everything I was going to get.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he started immediately as I entered in his office. I hadn’t even had time to close the door, neither to look around the room. At first I wasn’t sure from where his voice was coming.

“Well, next time you should wait until the door is closed before you start shouting someone’s head off” I replied sarcastically. “I’m glad to know that you want to talk to me now.” I added.

“You disobeyed my order” Mahone continued, without replying to what I said. He stood at his desk in front of the huge windows.

“What?” I barked. It was more than enough. “What order are you talking about?”

“I asked you one thing. One” he held up his pointing finger, almost lightnings were striking from his eyes. “Stay right here, next to your computer, not making any trouble. And what did you do? Followed us. And then? Almost got shot without any goddamn bulletproof west. Do you understand that, Y/N? Do you hear what I‘m saying?”

Alex was so angry I have never had seen him before. He was yelling, but when he cursed (for the umpteenth time of that day) he lowered his voice so, that it was almost just a hissing. He ran his fingers through his hair as he made some steps around the room. I truly couldn’t believe what was happening.

“I’m sorry, mister, you must confuse me with your assistant” I replied angrily. “I just did what is my job.”

“Your job is to investigate, not to play a heroine” he said storming. “I said what I said because I judged this situation was not for your capabilities. And, amazingly, I was right.”

“You knew I was capable, either way you wouldn’t choose me in the first place for this position” I replied. “And if you’re curious, I’ll never ever sit in my chair with my arms folded until you solve cases in the street. I’m a part of this team,” I pointed towards the door, “just like anybody else in this office, whether you like it or not. Oh, and if you may did forget that, you made me a part of this. You knew I could bear this.”

“And by being the part of the team, you must do what I say.” he added. “What do you think would happen if I’m not here? You would still lie there, frozen in… in your own blood.”

His voice shook, but I wasn’t sure if I heard it well. I just stood there, feeling like someone who got a ton of boiling water in her neck.

“He was dangerous” Alex explained slowly after a short silence. He emphasized every single word separately, as I was a stupid 5-years-old, who were incapable of understanding what the adult is saying.

“Thank you, I participated in the whole investigation, at least when you let me. How the hell I’m supposed to progress if you push me back behind working desks?” I asked sharply. “If I wanted to fill in charts and write reports, I would apply to the office next to yours. But tell me if I should leave and change, I’ll do it happily.”

Heavy, tense silence sat on the little room. Alex was leaning against his desk, looking at his feet. My eyes were staring this man standing in front of me, trying to figure out what was he thinking about.

“I thought we were more than this” I said suddenly in a lowered, disappointed voice. “And you know what, I thought we could be more than this.” I added, not caring about anything at all anymore. If he understood, he did, but if not… that didn’t matter either. “Are we done?” I spoke again, because Mahone didn’t say anything. I waited for a long minute, but he stayed silent. I scoffed sarcastically. “You’re insane” I murmured under my breath, then without caring anything I turned and walked towards the door.

Suddenly, when there were only a few steps left and my palm was already on the handle, I felt fingers carefully touching my wrist and pulling me backwards. I got so surprised that I couldn’t realize what was happening until I found myself in Mahone’s hug. I felt one of his hands around my waist, the other cupped my face and pulled me close to him. All this movements happened in a split second, and the next thing I felt was Alex, as he pressed his lips onto mines. We were kissing for minutes, fast and wild at the first time, but as we were calming down our movements were slowing as well. My fingers were stroking his neck, finding their ways into his sand-coloured hair. Mahone’s strong hands held me tightly – for which I was grateful, either way I would fly far away in the air. Though I was filled with feelings and confusion, slowly every piece found its place.

“I can’t lose you” he whispered on my lips desperately after pulling away. “I lost my wife, my kid… I can’t take your loss too. Please.”

My eyes started getting filled with tears, my hands trembled, and I felt myself as weak as never. I had no idea how he felt – I wouldn’t even dare to imagine that he may shared my feelings.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I asked when I got my voice back. His face was now far enough I could look into his eyes, while softly stroking his cheeks. His blue gaze was almost frightened, jumping fast from my eyes back to my lips. “You must have seen that it wouldn’t be… platonic.” I smiled upon Alex in hopes that it may calm him a little bit.

“I didn’t want to pull you down. You deserve someone better, someone who’s not a complete… wreck… and I thought maybe if I’m strict enough with you, your feelings pass and you could give space for someone else…”

“I don’t need anybody else” I shook my head. “Alex, how… oh God. Instead of you, who could figure out what’s going on in my mind even from a few words and my look?” my smile widened, and finally I saw some happiness on Mahone’s face as well.

“Do you have any idea how you scared me?” he asked and became serious again straight away. I lowered my eyes. “I’ll change, I swear. But... promise me you’ll never do this again. And you’ll stay. With me.”

“I promise” I said quietly and as certain as I could. As Mahone gave a small kiss on my forehead, I tried to realize what just happened.

[script-nef]

Fluff alphabets | Oikawa Tooru

Others: Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima

Category: fluff

Affection: How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?

Oikawa is comparable to an overgrown puppy when it comes to you.

He leaves messages and notes on how much he loves and appreciates you every day. 

He wakes up early every day for his morning run, leaving you to sleep away in the bed. By the time he comes back, you’ve gone off to work.

So before he goes out, he packs a lunch with a little post-it which says things like “I hope everything works out great today” or “Don’t forget I love you!” which brightens up your day.

Baby: Does he want to start a family?

He’d want to wait a bit even if he did. Oikawa is realistic about his work and yours, the amount of time and effort needed to raise a child along with the financial implications. 

He would want to be there for his kids, but is also unwilling to leave his career. So he would try to find a middle ground with you and try to juggle a half-half home and work life because he believes both parents need to share responsibilities equally.

Cuddles: Does he like cuddling? How often does he like hugging?

Every time he sees you, his automatic and reflexive action is a hug. 

You could be covered in mud, wearing a truckload of fragrance (a specific one he doesn’t like), sleeping on the sofa, cooking dinner; his body just moves before he realises it.

It makes him feel safe and loved, even if he’s the one caging you in his arms.

Date: What is a typical date?

Because he’s so popular and everyone can notice him when you guys go out, he prefers indoor dates or isolated camping. Just so that you can be together with no one to bother and ask for autographs. 

Either just doing simple things like finishing puzzles or making new recipes, anything he can do with you is fine. 

During camps, he loves making campfires and roasting marshmallows. You told him about s’mores and now that has become a necessity for him.

 Experience: How much has he dated before? How does that reflect in this one?

He’s gone out with plenty of people before, but only because they were part of his fan group and confessed first. He’s the one who confessed out of the two of you, and he was blushing so much while asking you out.

Still, he picked up a few tricks and experiences to help with his boyfriend skills for you. He never forgets anniversaries, always asks for your opinion first, remains attentive and spends a lot of time with you.

A girl once broke up with him because he was spending too much time with volleyball, but he vows to never let that happen with you.

Fight: Do you fight often with him? How does it usually end?

The problem is that he’s hot-headed sometimes and does not understand the meaning of limits. Arguments happen often but they end relatively well, when you both calm down and talk about your problems.

You both know that fights are necessary to help the relationship grow and understand each other but it doesn’t make it any easier. Feelings get hurt and you spend time apart, but in the end, it gets mended over late-night talks.

Gentle: How does he treat you?

Like you’re the ruler of the world and he’s just a humble servant. He’s literally willing to do anything (except illegal deeds) for you. This boy is whipped.

If you ask for anything, he’ll find a way to get it for you. Unless it takes an exorbitant amount of money. He constantly buys you clothes, cakes, games, everything. 

He makes sure you know you’re loved by him and will take every chance he gets to show it to you. 

Hand: Does he like holding your hand? How often?

Hand-holding is like a greeting for him. Just like with hugs, this boy cannot get enough physical contact when it comes to you. 

His finger laces with yours firmly as if to say “I’m here right now” and he hopes it fills you with assurance and love as it does for him.

Impression: What was your first impression of him?

A popular ikemen with a never-ending smile who gets hit a lot by this other dude.

Oikawa is famous in Seijou and everywhere else, so it wasn’t hard to get an initial impression from all of his fans’ squealing and gushing. Apparently, he’s this perfect prince who’s as pretty as hell and an amazing volleyball player.

His first impression of you was a kind and different seatmate. You had the (mis)fortune of getting placed next to him which garnered a lot of envy from his fans. He liked you since you weren’t squealing and obsessing over him like the others.

Jealousy: Does he get jealous easily? What sets him off?

Gets jealous really easily but tries to play it off. Like “Ah, [Name]-chan, are you confessing your love for other people when your one and only boyfriend is right here? I feel so neglected!” or other whiny comments.

Subtly latches onto you during and after matches, smiling threateningly at the other boys.

“Tooru, knock it off. You have no reason to be jealous. I don’t like them.” 

“I know, but they like you. I can see it in their eyes.” 

“Really? How?” 

“They’re looking at you like I used to when I started falling for you.”

Kiss: Is he good at kissing? When does he kiss you?

Thousands of pecks or light kisses every day and hundreds of deep ones in private. Oikawa kisses you so damn much that it feels like he has a disease which will kill him if he doesn’t kiss you at least once every hour or so.

His favourites are forehead kisses and neck bites. He nibbles on your skin which makes you shriek and hit him repeatedly, but he absolutely loves it.

Love: Who said “I love you” first? And when does he say it?

He said it first while trying to cheer you up. He’s noticed how you were feeling a bit down lately and tentatively asked if anything was wrong.

Then you mumbled about all his fans and if you were enough for him, which just completely shattered his heart. So he rattled off all the things he admired and cherished about you, like how you’re always so dedicated or caring.

He pressed kisses to your hand and whispered “You know I love you, right?” and squeezed you half to death when you said “Me too.”

Memory: What’s his favourite memory with you?

The moment you cried during an argument. This gets a lot of weird looks from people, which once included you, and they ask “Are you, by any chance, a sadist?” or something along those lines. But he isn’t.

Oikawa loves that moment because it proves to him you’re willing to be truthful and vulnerable to him, something he struggled to do in front of you. It showed him you care about this relationship and that you’re invested in it.

There’s plenty of other memories with you he treasures, but this one always warms his heart. (He doesn’t like seeing you cry though.)

Nickname: Does he give you a nickname? Do you have one for him?

He gives you a whole lot of really, really cheesy ones. Like “if you call me this in front of people I know outside, I’ll die from embarrassment” level ones.

Examples include: my everything, cream puff, the radiant sun, sugar bear etc. Overly sweet ones. He likes how you blush and squirm away when he calls you these. 

Everyone looks at him like “what the hell, dude” but he doesn’t give a damn.

Open: How open is he about his feelings?

Oikawa doesn’t hesitate to tell you about his moods and feelings. He once hid them from you, thinking he needs to be stronger than that, but you lectured him for about an hour about it. Now he tells you everything he feels.

Says if he’s sad, lonely, happy, excited, everything. You share all of your feelings with him as well and it makes it feel like you’re closer together now.

PDA: Is he fine with PDA? How far can he go?

He’s casual and comfortable with PDA, but it gets more intense when you’re with his friends. Like the third year gang from Seijou.

He doesn’t really get it either, but seeing you interact with his friends makes a bubble in his chest which feels like it’s going to explode at any moment. He gives you plenty of kisses and hugs, gaining boos from all his friends. He just sticks his tongue out at them, saying “I‘m dating someone and you guys aren’t!”

Quirk: Habits or something he does which is unexpected?

He likes stargazing. It stems from his love/obsession of aliens, which continues to this day, but he realised how expansive and beautiful space is. He becomes quiet every time he gazes up to the night sky, his thoughts just drifting away.

Some of the constellations have fun myths behind them which he enjoys as well. He sometimes recites it for you as a nighttime story, to help you fall asleep.

You bought him a projector once as a present. It now illuminates your bedroom every night.

Relax: What activities do you do with him to relax?

Going to a spa together, getting facials and massages. Oikawa cares a lot about his beauty and the state of his muscles, so a spa is one of his favourite places in the world. 

He would talk to you for the entire massage, saying random and stupid things which makes you laugh and move around a lot. You have to apologise to the masseurs all the time, even though they’ve become used to it.

Support: How supportive is he of your dreams? What do you do for him?

Oikawa constantly reassures and cheers for you as you do for him. He gives you tips and hacks on solving certain problems or brings you your favourite food to bring your mood up.  

He has unwavering faith in your words and pushes you to finish the assignments to the best of your abilities. If you’re getting burnt out, then he just takes you off the laptop and makes you sleep.

For him, he loves seeing your face in the bleachers, calling out and screaming for him. It fills him with extra energy which helps him nail a service ace.

Talk: What does he like talking about?

What it would be like if you stayed with him forever. He loves imagining a future with you, from a year to a decade to the moment he dies. 

“My best traits are my sappiness and my love for you, [Name]-chan!”

He sees older couples doing little activities together and takes photos and sends them to you with “Maybe we can do that!”

Umbrella: What’s his favourite weather/season?

A day with a clear sky, not a single cloud to be seen anywhere. But the sun isn’t too hot either, just the right temperature. The breeze will be light, cooling him down to a perfect temperature.

He’ll lay with you in the back porch, just staring up to the sky in silence. His hand will be linked to yours and eventually fall into an afternoon nap. It’ll be nighttime when he wakes up but you’ll still be sleeping. Then he carries you inside to the bed and starts cooking dinner.

Vaunt: Does he like showing you off?

So much. So, so much. Once Oikawa starts talking about how amazing you are, he’s not going to shut up for another half an hour or so. The record, timed by you, was 47 minutes and 23 seconds. 

The other person will literally start walking away and he won’t notice.

After his long and emotional speech with no audience, his expression will turn into that pea-eyed face (☉_☉) and he’d be like “where’d they go?”

World: Where does he take you for vacation?

A new place for both of you, a country where anything and everything can happen. On the rare occasions he gets a long time off, he makes sure to create new memories for you.

He even bought one of those scratch-off maps to record all the places you visited with him. Most of South America is done and he hopes to finish the U.S. soon.

He loves meeting new people or learning new customs and knows you love them as well. He especially loves how your eyes light up when you see amazing landscapes and beautiful festivals.

X-ray: What happens when you’re injured or sick?

If it’s a simple cold, then he tries to cheer you up by being bright and happy while taking care of you. Feeding you plenty of food and water, bringing you medicine, watching TV shows together, a perfect experience.

If you’re hospitalised, then he’s instantly crushed and cannot function. He spends every single second he can next to your bed and holds your hand, pressing kisses onto it. 

Waterworks starts the moment you wake up and he becomes a leech, pressing himself to your body and refusing to let go.

Yearn: How much does he miss/pine for you when apart?

He texts you every chance he gets, updating you on the most mundane and little things in his life. It’s because he knows you enjoy them, learning about his life away from you and all the new people he met.

He once received a little plushie version of you from his fans, modelled after one of his photos with you on social media, and he sleeps with it every day. Every night before he goes to sleep, he sends you a selfie with something like “:( Nothing beats the original though <3”.

ZZZ: Does he have sleeping habits?He’d want to wait a bit even if he did. 

Covers you with his body regardless of the season and hugs you so tightly against him that it feels like you’re in the grasps of an octopus. It’s great in winter but really annoying in summer, especially if it’s a humid day and you’re both sweating.

Even if you try to push him off, his iron grip on you doesn’t relax and somehow even tightens. After weeks of that, you basically just gave up and invested in better air conditioning.

[generallybarzy]

smile like sunshine iv

Tuesday: ~ 7.9k I’M SO SORRY

previous chapters: i // ii // iii

an: I HAD WRITERS BLOCK BUT THEN IT ALL HIT ME AT ONCE. I thought it was gonna be a short filler chapter but.... 7.9k words later here we are... I realized that I probably should’ve given mc a real name and stuff because it’s so specific about certain details, but it’s too late to change that, so we’ll all have to deal with it unfortunately. Also, from here on out there is a warning for nsfw thoughts! Anyway, enjoy! @thirteenisles!!

summary: Much, much different from yesterday, today is the yearly fishing trip, so you and Mat are- unfortunately- apart for a good part of the day. Mat and your father come to a silent agreement and you look for a distraction in an old flame to keep you from falling more in love with your friend. Mat doesn’t like sharing this place in your mind with anyone else...

It’s the summer of ‘19, eleven years after you first met Mat, and things are bound to be a little different this time around. 

You woke up the next day with a smile on your face, giddy and excited before you even opened your eyes. You had fallen asleep happy and tired and full of warmth the night before, cuddled up against Mat’s side as he drove back to the beach house. He only woke you with soft whispers when it was time to undress for bed; you woke up in his arms realizing he had carried you all the way from the car to your room. So, your mind raced with images of Mat- his smile, his laughter, his eyes, his body- it was all overwhelming enough to stir up passionate dreams about him. Dreams about his skin against yours, weightless in the water, his big hands on you, his body hovering over top of yours, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he moved on top of you... 

Rolling over in bed and trying to control yourself, you opened your phone and went into your gallery, into the folder of all your pictures of Mat from yesterday that you would continue to fill throughout the week. 

And though you’d only been apart from him for the eight hours of sleep, you needed to see him in person.

Mat was in the room across the hall, drifting in and out of sleep with a smile on his face as he thought back to yesterday. He reached over to the bedside table so he could scroll through his own phone. You had asked him yesterday to take a picture of you for your Instagram, posing for him and smiling with the ocean in the background, and he couldn’t look away from them. You looked so good yesterday in that little bikini, all spread out on the paddleboard and soaking up the sunlight, and, as much as he wanted to keep his head out of the gutters around you, there was just something about you. If only you knew the effect you had on him.

“Kids, get up! We’ve got a lot planned for today!” 

He jumped, hearing your mother’s voice in the hall outside your rooms, and sat up a little bit more in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He had to admit, this trip would be a little bit more fun if your family wasn’t here as well; if every day could be like yesterday. But hoping to be alone with you for every second of the day was a fantasy, and he knew it. He was still technically intruding on your family vacation.

There was a knock at his door, and for a horrible moment, he thought it was one of your parents before your voice sounded from the other side. “Mat? It’s me.” 

“Yeah, come in.” If only he was ready for what he was about to see. Yeah, he saw you in a bikini yesterday, but this was just as good… You walked into his room in a little tank top and booty shorts, what you had slept in, your messy hair thrown up in a bun. He didn’t want to stare too much, but were you braless? Yeah, you definitely were. He shuffled around under the sheets, making sure you wouldn’t be able to see what you were doing to him. He was lucky you knocked first, or who knows what he could’ve been doing?

Seeing Mat lying in bed was… a sight. His dark hair was haloing around his head on the pillow, he was tangled in the white sheets, and half of his upper chest and arms were exposed and already looking beautifully tanned. “You’ll never guess what today is.”

Mat ran a hand through his hair and let out a puff of air. “Your birthday’s tomorrow, so I have no idea.” 

“It’s the family fishing trip! Remember that?”

Oh, he remembers it. He remembers going out onto the water in a rented boat with his dad and yours, watching in amazement at the huge fish they caught in the ocean. He remembers playing with you on the little dock, daring you to jump from it and into the ocean. Of course, your parents always stopped you from doing that. “No way, you still do that?” 

“Yup, it’s tradition.”

“The same place every year?” 

“Same place.” 

“Maybe this year you won’t be too afraid to jump off the dock.” He smirked, and it was a sight that flooded heat all the way through your body.

“Shut up, Mat! I wasn’t afraid to, my parents just never let me!” He laughed at that, sitting up and letting the sheets fall off his bare chest. “And you know that, too! You just love to get on my nerves.” Oh, that was only one of many things he’d love to do to you.  

“Maybe. But you brought me on this trip anyway.”  

“Don’t make me regret that, Maty.” You swatted his bare leg away from you as he stretched out in bed, and he couldn’t help but smile at the touch. “Get up, we gotta get ready for today. I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be pretty fun.” And when you turned and left, Mat had to bite his lip to hold back any reaction to the way your legs looked in those shorts. He tossed his head back to his pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

Yeah, today was gonna be fun.

Back when you and Mat first met, your parents and his immediately got along. He had begged and begged his parents to talk to yours and let him go along on the family fishing trip, mostly because you had cried to him and told him you didn’t want to be alone. Of course, they had to go meet your parents first and come along, but when they finally agreed that Mat could come along, you were over the moon. 

 Since you reconnected almost a year ago, Mat had told his parents about you. He called them the day after you approached him in the bar, when he went out to lunch with you to talk, the moment he knew he was going to try and befriend you again. He was excited when he called them, asking in a frenzy if they still remembered that girl he hung out with the summer of 2008. Of course, they remembered her, they had told him, she was the first crush he ever had. "Oh, your first girlfriend!" his mom had exclaimed. "Mom!" Flustered, Mat shook off those words. No, you were nothing more than friends. 

That’s what he had thought, anyway, up until a few months ago. 

Now, after being alone with you yesterday, he knew: this was much more than friendship.

The place your dad went to go fishing every year was a cute empty spot of beach, with deep water and a small dock where you and your siblings and friends always used to play. Where you used to play with Mat, that summer, when he dared you to jump in but you were too scared. Where you continued to come back to years after until Mat was just a fading memory and your parents urged you to meet new friends. And where, years later, you had your first kiss, with some random boy you met three days before and who you thought was cute.  

“This is where it all began.” You spread your arms wide in a flourish, presenting the dock to Mat when you arrived. He glanced around- yes, this was where it all began. 

“It definitely looks a lot smaller than when we were kids.” 

“Yeah, probably because we grew up.” 

“Aww, if we grew up does that mean I can’t push you in anymore?” 

“Don’t even think about it, Barzal.” Before Mat had the chance to even try to push you in, you were cut off by the sound of an approaching boat out on the water. “Bet, Mat. Wanna push me into the water in front of my dad? I dare you.” He smiled and held up his hands in surrender. Usually, your dad took your brother along with him, but this year it seemed he had other plans. 

“You like to fish, Mathew?”

“Uh,” he glanced at you for help, obviously not yet sure how to talk to your dad. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty good at fishing.”

“Great! Hop on. We’ll have some one-on-one time.”

“Okay, cool.” The moment he turned away, Mat whispered to you: “He’s going to throw me off the boat.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mat. He doesn’t hate you. You’ll probably just talk about fish or sports.” 

“But don’t you want me here with you?”

“I’ll be fine alone for a bit.”

Mat couldn’t lie- he wasn’t the happiest at how this day was gonna pan out. He wanted one-on-one time with you, not your dad. They had already had that talk at the motel when he ever so kindly told him not to make a move on his daughter, so he wasn’t sure what else could happen. But if this is what he had to go through to get on your dad’s good side, he was gonna try his hardest. So here he sat, kinda awkwardly, next to him, a fishing rod in his hands. 

“So, Mathew, You were gone with (Y/N) yesterday...”

“Uhh, yeah.” 

“What’d the two of you do?” 

He was at a loss for words. What could he say?  “Oh, just uhh, took a drive down to another beach, had lunch.”

“Hmm. But you didn’t try anything?” 

“No, no nothing!”

“I hope not. Otherwise, we’d really have a problem.” Mat couldn’t find a way to respond to that. As much as he wanted to make a move, he knew here wasn’t the ideal place to do it. No, he’d wait until he wasn’t sharing a roof with your father. “Mathew, I still remember what you said at the motel.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Of course, he did. “But you understand where I’m coming from, don’t you?” 

“I- I‘m not sure.”

“You seem like an… okay, guy. A good friend to her. But I’ve seen plenty of guys who seemed okay and ended up breaking her heart. I won’t let that happen again.” Mat wanted to tell him that it wasn’t up to him to decide who his daughter could date, but he knew that that might be the dumbest possible thing to say, so he held his tongue. “I know what young, professional athletes are like. While I respect the sport, you’re not the type of guy I want my daughter with.” He didn’t like the idea that you’d had your heart broken before. He never wanted to do that to you, and your father just had a way of making him doubt himself. 

“I understand.” Mat’s eyes drifted to where you stood down on the sand, barely able to make out your form from this distance, as he wondered what you were doing. 

You were collecting shells, walking side by side with your sister, and catching up with a little bit of girl talk. 

“Sooo, this Mat guy?” 

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help the smile that was pulling onto your face at just the sound of his name. “What about him?”

“Well, he’s an NHL player, first of all.” 

“He’s a lot more than that.” And he was. It may sound strange to others, but he meant everything to you. Ever since that summer where he had been your refuge, he’d been the one you thought about to calm down. He’d been your happy memory. He’d been the dream you could only hope you never forgot. And he became so much more in the past few months. It was a little weird at first when your roommate teased you about your “summer romance” with this boy you didn’t even know, but suddenly you didn’t want to deny it. Maybe this time around, you would come back with an even better story than before. 

“Yeah. He’s also pretty hot.”

“Trust me, I know.” You weren’t shallow, but yeah, the cherry on top was how attractive he just happened to be.

“What are you two? Friends? Maybe moooore?”

“No, no, no, just friends.” Your answer was quick- almost too quick- as if you were trying to cover something up. A silence fell between you and you realized just how in denial you sounded. “But he just means a lot to me, ya know? You heard the story about how we met, right? Mom’s obsessed with telling it.”

“Yeah, of course. If you ask me, kinda sounds like looooove.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Seriously, if this were a movie, I’d watch the shit out of it. Imagine the ratings a plot like that would get! It’s like a teen summer romance but... wholesome and cute! I’m sure everyone has a childhood friend they became separated from. Imagine reading this summary: A boy and girl meet and become best friends only to be separated after one summer of romance-” 

“Ew, don’t say romance! We were like, ten.”

“-After a summer of almost-romance where they were obviously in love even if their little brains couldn’t comprehend it. They reconnect years later, only to realize what they felt all those years ago was much more than friendship.” 

You laughed, but couldn’t help imagining how that story would end. What was your sister, a psychic? “Okay, that’s not quite how it goes, but can we just… stop talking about him? It’s weird.” For the last few months, there had been a weird feeling in your chest whenever you discussed your relationship with Mat. Okay, maybe- just maybe- you had a little crush. A tiny crush. Nothing that meant anything, nothing that wouldn’t be easy to get over. It sucked to have a crush on one of your best friends, to have a crush on the boy you brought along on this trip to use as a distraction from everything else. 

You glanced out to where you could barely see Mat’s figure on the boat with your father. His features were indistinguishable, but you could see the outline of his body and the dark swoop of hair on his head standing out against the blue sky. It wasn’t like Mat was interested in you at all, he was an NHL player, a star at that. He probably had countless girl’s numbers lined up in his contacts that he could date at any given moment, there’s no way he’d settle for a childhood friend he’d only known for a year. Just because he came on this trip with you and promised to be your distraction, didn’t mean he liked you like that. No, if anything, he was here for nostalgia- for looking back on that summer when you were carefree children- not because he had any type of romantic feelings for you. Not because he loved you. Yet, despite this, you couldn’t seem to control yourself around him.

You desperately needed a distraction from Mat, or else you’d end up doing something you couldn’t come back from. 

You dropped your gaze to the sand to look for any pretty, unbroken shells hiding among the piles beneath your feet. The tide had come in high earlier this morning, leaving behind a mess of little shards of broken shells and rocks. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d find one that was whole. 

“Ooh, look at this one!” Your sister held up a pretty shell, still in one piece, colored all the shades of a sunset. 

“Oh, man that’s pretty! I wish I could’ve found one that nice.”

“Don’t look too hard. It was right in front of you the whole time.”

You walked silently, pondering over her words, and searching for something better when a third voice spoke up from a little distance in front of you.  

“No way, (Y/N)?”

It was a voice you’d never thought you’d hear again, but when you looked up towards it, you realized this trip might just get a lot more interesting. Your sister nudged you and made her exit, knowing exactly who this was and wanting to give you alone time with him. 

Maybe this was exactly what you needed to take your mind off of Mat.

Back in 2008, when you were only ten years old, you thought the world of Mat. You thought he was the coolest person you knew, at the beach or at home. He was your closest friend, but for some reason, neither of your young brains realized that you should get each other’s parent’s phone numbers or addresses so you could keep in touch. You left the beach that year with nothing on your mind but Mat, and your parent’s loved to tease you to this day that he was the only person you talked about for months. When next summer rolled around, you were pouty and angry that he was nowhere to be found. And that continued for years to come. 

Slowly, over the years you went on family vacations in that same house, you began, with your parent’s urging, to try and push your memories of Mat to the back of your mind and make new friends with the local kids your age. And slowly, you began to forget about Mat. Or, that’s how you thought it would happen. Sure, there were times you went without thinking of him for a while, but something would always end up reminding you of him. But you pushed it aside. He’s long gone, you’d told yourself, no point in dwelling on the past. None of your new friends could compare to the fun Mat had been, but they were great friends, and now you were young teenagers having fun, getting into trouble together, and experiencing all your firsts together.

This guy- Kyle- was one of those firsts. 

The summer you turned seventeen, there was a new guy among your beachy friend-group. He was your age, and he could already drive, and that made his curly, blonde, surfer boy look even more attractive to all the girls who knew him. As much as you hated to admit today, you weren’t an exception. Yeah, you thought he was cute. No, there wasn’t much about him beyond that, as shallow as it was, but at least he had seemed to care about you that night when he walked you away from the other teens, partying and drinking and walked you out to the dock and kissed you under the stars. He had said all the right things that night, and a few nights later, and later, and later.

You went that whole summer thinking that the two of you were together, but apparently, you’d missed the memo that he was seeing other girls, too. He’d promised he didn’t mean to hurt you but learning that it wasn’t the two of you, learning that he was with other girls too and the whole summer had been a lie made your self-esteem plummet. It hurt like hell, being your first heartbreak, and it was the worst possible way to end a beach trip tradition. 

But he wasn’t a bad guy, not really. He was a young, stupid, teenage boy, right? And he said he didn’t mean to hurt you. No reason to hate him. 

Now, almost exactly four years since you met him, he walked next to you down the beach as you combed for shells, a quietness settling over you. It wasn't a comfortable silence like with Mat, but something uneasy, something tense and awkward. Why was he here? Was it appropriate to just… walk up to your ex and start chatting like old friends? Maybe he was just trying to be civil, courteous- if that’s what this was, you… hesitantly respected that. It probably took as much courage as when you approached Mat for the first time- both times. But, if he was looking for something more…

“So, you been dating at all?”

“Sure I have. I mean, it’s been...almost four years?” Truthfully, you’ve barely been dating. Nothing serious, at least. But you knew it would sound so sad if he was the last “serious” relationship you had. 

“You disappeared after what happened between us. For four years. I thought maybe you couldn’t face me afterward or something.”

“No.” You bit your tongue, not really wanting to bring up old bad blood or reopen old scars. “Life just got in the way. After that year I had a job, then I was moving out, going to college. Just didn’t have time to come down anymore.”

“That sucks. We’ve all really missed you down here.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He smiled, dropping an arm around your shoulder. You knew he didn’t mean it in a romantic way, it was such a thing he would do, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. “We’re actually having a party on Friday. Think you can make it?” Could you make it? It was going to be the night before you had to leave, your last night on the beach, and as much as you wanted to do something alone with Mat, you knew it was inappropriate to cling on him as if he was something more than a friend. As if he was yours. But you needed to take a step back before you did something you couldn’t take back. 

Maybe this was the perfect distraction from Mat.

“I’ll be there.”

After their first discussion, Mat had fallen in and out of uncomfortable small talk with your father for what felt like hours. And now, as they got ready to head back to shore for a quick lunch, he could confirm that he was one hundred percent still not on his good side.  It seemed like no matter what he tried, your father didn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe it was best this way, indifference is better than hate, isn’t it?

“Shit...” 

“Huh?” Mat looked up when your father swore next to him. He was glaring up the shoreline as they approached the dock, out to where you were. And then he noticed, with a jolt to his heart, that you weren’t alone out there. Standing next to you in the sand was a generic-looking douchebag surfer dude. He was standing way, way too close to you for his comfort, with an arm thrown over your shoulders like you were old buddies. “Who’s that?” 

“It’s not really any of your business, is it?” He glanced over and, for a moment, Mat regretted asking anything, not wanting to stir up any drama. “But... seeing as you’re here as her friend, maybe you can talk some sense into her.” 

“About what?”

“It’s not my place to tell you about her private stuff but… that boy. Trouble.” He shook his head, preparing to dock the boat. “Mathew, I don’t dislike you. You mean a lot to (Y/N) as a friend, and I don’t want you to ruin that. If things didn’t work out between you two, she would be devastated. I’ve seen her heartbroken, but if it was because of you, it’d be so much worse. She could barely function without you after that summer, so if things ended completely between you two...”

Mat couldn’t help but smile when your father said he didn’t dislike him. That was a start, at least. But the thought of you having your heart broken was something he didn’t want to think about. The thought you being heartbroken because of him was something he didn’t want to think about. “I know.” And he did. He understood because he would feel the same way. If things went awkward and sour between the two of you, he would hate himself. He would be lost. Reconnecting after ten years and then losing you all together would hurt even more than if he’d never found you- if you were still only a fond memory he thought back to. If he lost you, he wouldn’t even know what to do. He needed you.

“But, that being said, you’re better than any other guy she’s cared about. Especially that boy. I respect that.” He stepped onto the dock and cast one look back at him. “Look out for her this week. As a friend.” 

“I will.” 

“Starting now.” He motioned down the beach where you stood with the boy, his arm around you, pulling you much too close to his body. 

It felt good to know that at least your father didn’t hate him. He respected him, even. It felt good to know that both men had the same ideas when it came to your safety and were able to come to a silent agreement. And if all they could bond over was their need to protect you, he could take that. Because you were all that mattered to him. 

He all but jogged down the beach to you, his heart throbbing at the sight of you smiling and laughing with someone other than him. His blood boiled. He hated that you were so familiar and comfortable with this guy, but he took comfort in the fact that your dad felt the same way, that at least they were on the same page about that. What could he be saying that was making you this happy? Who could he be who was stealing your attention away from him? That should be him, with his arm around you, making your eyes sparkle in laughter. What was this tightening feeling in his chest? 

Why was Mat so jealous of him?

“Who’s this?”

You looked up from where you were practically hanging on the blonde boy’s arm and met eyes with Mat. Your Mat, your best friend. The man you were trying to forget about. And you had forgotten about him for a few minutes, falling back into the memory of your summer romance at seventeen instead of thinking of Mat, with his pretty dark swoops of hair and high cheekbones, those shimmering hazel eyes and that dazzling smile… and the fact that he was shirtless and shining all pretty and golden in the sunlight. The way he made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes and your sides ached, the way he made your heart pound erratically when he hugged you and when he threw his arm over your shoulders.

And suddenly you realized your ex couldn’t compare to Mat at all, no matter how much you needed a distraction. 

“Mat, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is my friend, Mat.”

“Hey.” The other guy spoke up, and somehow, he sounded exactly like Mat expected him to sound. Like a fucking douchebag.

“Hey.” Mat couldn’t hide how unenthusiastic he was when he greeted the man, and you noticed. It was awkward, you were sandwiched between two shirtless men, one your ex- who you were trying to use as a distraction- and one your best friend- who you were hopelessly crushing on and needed a distraction from- and all three of you waited and waited until Mat finally spoke up. “So, how do you know each other?”

“We, uhh, we dated when we were younger.” 

“Oh?” Mat wasn’t a fan of the way his heart ached when those words left your lips. Of course, you had other boyfriends, you were stunning, borderline perfect. Everyone must want you. You’re not mine, you’re not mine, I know. “You did?”

“Yeah, actually…” Kyle tossed his curly hair out of his face and had Mat rolling his eyes. “We met down here a few years ago. And that dock over there?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the dock, pulling you against him. “First kiss.” Mat’s muscles tensed, his jaw went tight and his fists closed- he hated the idea that this dock was anyone else’s special place with you. Okay, maybe it was a bit selfish, but he thought this was just a little secret between the two of you, and then this guy had to show up and ruin it? “Best first kiss a girl could get, huh?” He looked at you with a cheeky, smirk...

...But it wasn’t as cute as Mat’s.

“Yeah, it was good.” 

Mat knew it was stupid and unrealistic of him to think he’d always had you all to himself. You’d only known each other for that one summer, and had been separated for ten years, so of course, you eventually found someone other than him. But he couldn’t deny how much it pained his heart to know that somebody else had been closer to you than he had. To know that someone else had taken his place. To know that you weren’t even his to begin with. This guy had held you, kissed you, taken Mat off of your mind, and Mat hated how it felt to know that. “Cool, cool. Well, I think it’s time to head back for lunch, (y/n).”

“Ah, shit, really?” he pulled you tight against him in a quick side hug and kissed the top of your head. Part of you wished, for a moment, that he was Mat instead. “See ya. Remember, Friday!”

“Yep, Friday!” 

Mat couldn’t help but roll his eyes again, watching him leave. He came on this trip with you and you were ditching him for your ex? Shit, it was so tough being just your friend. “What’s Friday?” His voice came out more strained and forced than he wanted it to.

“A party with my old friends.”

“You’re going?”

“Yeah, they’re my friends, so why not?” Mat couldn’t help but feel a little bit betrayed, but he knew this was your vacation, and you were kind enough to invite him along, so he couldn’t tell you what you could and couldn’t do. Just friends, just friends, just friends, he told himself. 

“Well, I still get you to myself tomorrow, right? For your birthday?” 

“Of course you do. Why, are you planning something?”

“Duh, what else is a best friend for?” He pulled you against him to walk down the beach and you smiled at the familiar scent of him, the familiar warmth of his body. Being in his arms was so much better than being in Kyle’s arms. He shrugged, sucking up his pride to tease you about your ex-boyfriend. “Sooo... you and surfer dude, huh? Didn’t know you were into that type.” He laughed again, nudging you with his elbow and smirking. 

His smirk was a lot cuter than your ex’s. 

“Shut up!” You laughed at the teasing lilt in his voice. There was your Mat, happy and smiling. His heart lit up again. Yeah, he could make you laugh so much better than anyone else could. He would always take pride in that. “I know, I know, it’s embarrassing, but listen! We were only seventeen, he could drive already…”

“Ooh, sexy.”

“Mat!” 

“I’m serious, the ability to drive is pretty hot, right?”

You laughed, “Mat! I get it, I get it, it was a dumb summer fling, okay? There actually isn’t much more to him personality-wise. He’s not better than you.” 

“Of course he’s not.” As cocky as Mat played it off, he was really thankful. Thankful you still preferred him over your ex-boyfriend. Thankful he still held a special place in your head, in your heart, even, that no one else ever would. “I mean, have you seen me?”

“I have.” Your eyes skimmed the length of his body. You’d seen him, alright. “You wanna hit the waves before lunch?” You traced your fingers down his arm and grabbed his big hand in yours.

“How could I say no?”

So, with his hand in yours, you ran to the water, shedding the sheer cover-up you’d been wearing over your swimsuit and shrieking when the waves splashed up against you. As usual, Mat dared you to follow him out further than you would’ve like to have gone. The gleam in his eyes was something you weren’t unfamiliar with, the same gleam he got when he was beating you at a game or when you dared him to do something. He wasn’t one to back down until he won, and that was rubbing off on you. His confidence was rubbing off on you. Something about him made you feel so brave. 

“I’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me what we’re doing tomorrow?

“Of course not. It’s a surprise. What type of friend would I be if I gave away the surprise?” He dodged the water you splashed towards him and half hopped, half swam backward in the water. You had wadded out to an area that was deep enough for neither of you to be able to stand very well, and as much as you hated being out here, you felt safe as long as Mat was next to you. He splashed you back in retaliation only to be immediately hit from behind by a wave, laughing the whole time he went down at the shriek you let out when he got your hair wet. 

You laughed as he went under. “That’s what you get, Barzal!” After a few seconds without seeing him resurface, you started to worry, your breath caught in your throat. Should he have been up by now? Did he get the breath knocked out of him and couldn’t come up? Did he get pulled out further? “Mat? Mat, hey, where’d you go, buddy?” Your breath was shallow, your mind fuzzy, and your heartbeat quickened as you took a few strides forward, turning and glancing over the rippling surface of the water, trying to find any sign of him, any movement, any trace of his dark hair, but there was nothing. 

Not until a pair of arms underwater grabbed your waist from behind and lifted you. 

“Gotcha.”

He was still laughing, still teasing you, thinking he had just played a funny trick on you and you hadn’t been in the middle of freaking out and panicking that your best friend had probably drowned. 

“Shit, Mat. Oh my god.” You turned in his arms and pulled yourself against him, cheeks warming up at the feeling of his wet, bare skin against yours, his muscles taut, and his skin slick beneath your fingertips. He’s okay, he’s safe, he’s alive. You brought your hands up around his shoulders, pushing black strands of wet hair out of his eyes as he continued to laugh. You smacked his shoulder, suddenly angry that he would even joke about drowning. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. “You’re a dick! That wasn’t funny!”

Mat must have noticed the way your nails were digging into the flesh of his biceps, holding him for dear life with an urgent look in your eyes because he stopped laughing almost immediately when he noticed your concern. “Hey, hey.” His voice dropped to the gentle, reassuring tone that always made you emotional. The voice he broke out when you got hurt and he was there as a friend to pick up the pieces. The same voice he’d used all those years ago when you started crying over a crab he had thrown at you. “Look, I’m fine.”

“But I didn’t know that two seconds ago!”

“I’m sorry. I was just messing around. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know. I’m just glad you’re alive.” You took deep breaths, your head dropping to rest on his wet shoulder, your face pressed against the crook of his neck. It took you a few moments to understand how intimate this was: you were wrapped up together under the water, still in his arms with your feet listed off the sandy floor, pressed chest to chest with your arms wrapped over his shoulders. What you had intended to be a friendly hug became so much more when you were wet and weightless and almost bare, pressed against each other. You sighed and pulled back from him, dropping down to your feet but keeping your hands on his shoulders so stay still. He was your anchor out here. “You know, you don’t have to go pretending to drown just because you’re jealous of my ex and want my attention back.”

“What?” he scoffed, trying to play it off cool. Okay, maybe it was true that he was looking for a little bit of your attention, but he’d never admit that. Friends don’t get jealous of their friend’s ex-boyfriends. “I’m not jealous.” 

“Really? You didn’t seem like your friendly self when you were talking to him. And your eyes look pretty green right now, so I’d say that’s probably because of the green monster.” You teased, poking at his face.

“He’s your ex, do you want me to treat him like a friend?”

“Well, he was also my friend, so you don’t need to be so hostile towards him. But I get it. It’s okay to be jealous. I get jealous of your friends, sometimes.”

“You do? Why?”

“They’ve gotten to spend more time with you than I did. They probably mean a lot more. You have friends you’ve known for years, and I’m not one of them. We only knew each other that summer and then this past year. I wish we would’ve been friends longer.” 

“You don’t have to be jealous of them, though. I actually feel like we’ve known each other since then. I thought back to you a lot, wondering what you were up to...”

“Probably thinking of you.” You smiled, your heart swelling at the thought that between growing up and getting into the NHL, Mat still thought of you every now and then. “I feel so lucky to have found you” You closed your mouth, letting your words settle in the air between the two of you. “You don’t have to be jealous either. Kyle wasn’t that great. Not cooler than our time together.”

“No?” He added a chuckle to try and lighten the mood. “I thought he was the cool kid who could drive?”

“No.” You dropped your gaze to the ocean, turning away from Mat. “We may have had a little… romance thing, but he cheated on me.” Mat’s eyes went soft, his eyebrows furrowing up at the idea of you having your heart broken like that. He knew much too well what it felt like to be lied to and cheated on, so to imagine you suffering through that without him there to help pick up the pieces for you was too much. “Well, no,” You shook your head. “I guess he didn’t really cheat. Only kinda. It was just a summer fling to him, but I thought it was something more. I was just dumb and naive I guess.”

“Hey,” His hands lifted to your shoulders momentarily, turning you to look up at him. “That’s really shitty anyway. He hurt you.” 

“Yeah. He did. And you'd never hurt me.” Your fingers, much without your permission, glided down the lengths of his wet arms to cover his hands with yours. “See? You don’t need to be jealous. You’re so much cooler. You mean more to me than he ever did. Nothing- no one- can ever top that summer. No one can ever top how much you mean to me. You're my friend.” 

You both sat in uncomfortable silence, mutually hating that sentence. There was no way you were just friends. This wasn’t platonic at all.  Friends didn’t cuddle each other in motel rooms; friends didn’t hold each other underwater; friends didn’t daydream about making out with each other; friends didn’t get jealous of their friend’s exes; friends didn’t have hot, wet dreams about each other almost every night; friends didn’t nearly kiss every single day. So were you really just friends?

"Yeah." As much as Mat hated being "the friend", he was going to try his hardest to live up to that if that's what you wanted from him. And even if that’s all he’d ever be, he would learn to accept it. It was better than not having you at all. "I might even be your best friend ever, right?" 

"We'll see about that. You've got a lot of competition." He laughed with you. Oh, if only you know how much he didn't want to be your friend. If only he knew how much you wanted him to kiss you. 

 “Well, was that enough serious talk for today?”

“Yeah,” You huffed a sigh, brushing off the thoughts in your head. “I think it was.”

Your gaze dropped from those pretty hazel eyes, shimmering golden and green in the sunlight, across the immaculate structure of his cheekbones and jaw, right to his pretty pink lips. If only you could know what it felt like to have them against yours- would they be soft or rough?- to have his hot tongue in your mouth, his hands grabbing your waist, touching you all over, pulling you onto his lap. What you wouldn’t give to feel his mouth making it’s way down your body, leaving wet kisses and sucking on tender skin, leaving marks on your throat, your hips, the insides of your thighs. To feel his nose rub against you as his tongue dipped, lapped, caressed…

Mat watched you, the look in your eyes, all the walls about your past broken down, and at that very moment, he knew something. He would be your friend as long as you needed, he would be there for you to pick up the pieces and listen to your problems, he’d keep you safe, he’d do what a best friend should do. But, fuck. Fuck, he loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep it to himself.  This was so bad. 

He broke apart from you, removing his hands from where they’d been resting on your shoulders under your own soft hands, taking a few strides back in the water, and trying to regain some platonic boundaries between the two of you. That was all you were, right? Friends.

“Woah, where are you running off too, Mat?” Your laugh rang in his ear, pretty and perfect, and you.

“I-” He gestured back to the shore. “I think lunch is ready onshore. I’m kinda hungry.”

“Alright.” You pressed your hand into his and his heart leaped at the simple affection. It’s not like you hadn’t held hands before, but this time it felt… different. “Let’s head back then, Maty.”

Damn it, you have me wrapped around your finger, babe.

The day passed much too quickly for either of your taste and before you knew it the sun was dipping low in the sky, signaling the end of your long day. You wanted to spend the rest of time here in the sun, your feet digging into the sandy bottom of the ocean with the waves splashing around you; you wanted to spend the rest of time wrapped up in each other’s arms, caught up in each other’s eyes, frozen in time as you held on for dear life in your own little bubble separate from the rest of the world; daydreaming about kissing and fingers running through each other’s hair. You wanted to spend the rest of time dreaming of holding each other without worrying that the other didn’t feel the same. 

But it wasn’t quite over yet.

You were sitting alone on the dock, working away at braiding the bracelet you were finishing up for Mat when you heard footsteps behind you and looked up to find him, his hair sun-dried and fluffy in the breeze and a fresh drink in his hand. “Wow, that’s really coming along, huh?” His voice was a blanket of familiarity washing over you. You would never get tired of hearing it.

“Yeah, it is.” You smiled up at him. “When you want something hard enough, you really gotta work for it.” You reached up to grab his empty hand, wrapping the bracelet around his wrist to see how much more you had to get done. Your fingers lingered on his skin for a few moments longer than they should have, and you both noticed the delicate change in atmosphere before you pulled away completely.

“You mind if I join you here?”

“Anytime, Mat.”

So he sat down next to you, watching the colors fade from the sky and dipping his toes in the water with you and closing his eyes in pure bliss. You were both warm and smelled of saltwater and sunscreen, your breath tasting of the lemonade you had had after dinner, and whatever alcoholic drink Mat was currently sipping on; your cheeks and nose were still slightly rosy from the sun, faces hurting from smiling and laughing too much with him. If this wasn’t the perfect recreation of your first family trip with him all those years ago, you weren’t sure what was. 

Everything was soft and quiet until Mat spoke up from next to you. “You know, sunsets on the east coast aren’t that cool.”

“Ouch!” You mocked offense, bringing a hand to your heart. ”Wow, I invite you on this vacation with me and all you can do is insult it? I’ll rethink ever bringing you back.” He threw his head back in a cackle- the one you loved so much.

“No, I just mean… it’s cooler seeing the sunset over the ocean, don’t you think?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know, don’t really wanna inflate your ego any more.”

He chuckled a bit more, always a welcomed sound in your ears. “Guess I gotta take you out west then, try to convince you.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. I’ll take you to Vancouver with me when I go home. We can head to the beach from there. My mom would love to meet you.” 

“You told your parents about me?”

“Of course. I told them all about you after we caught up. They remember you, they even still have pictures of us somewhere. They’d love you.” 

There was something about that moment... He was shirtless, the sun was going down behind him and casting a pretty halo around his head, his eyes held yours intensely, with unanswered questions. You tried to ignore the way his skin glistened in the light, the way his thick thighs were spreading out deliciously as he sat, the way you were sitting so close to him that the outside of your bare thigh was touching his, the way you were leaning back on your hands with your pinky loosely tangled with his. There was something about that moment, talking about his family and how much they’d love to meet you, how there are still pictures floating around of you and Mat as children, of the one summer that changed everything for you. There was something about that moment that almost had you leaning in.  

“Kids, we’re heading home!”

You turned away from him quickly, scooting your leg away and pulling your hand from his. Maybe hearing your mother’s voice was what pulled you back into reality. You couldn’t kiss him. Not now.

“Yeah, yeah!!” You pulled yourself up off the dock, extending a hand to help Mat up, and smiling when his big palm touched yours, warm and soft. “We’re coming!” 

This wasn’t how you wanted the day to end, but maybe it was for the best.

You could break the boundaries of friendship, push the limits to your relationship with Mat, stick your toe in and test the waters, but was it worth it? Maybe you should just try to avoid your feelings for him. Maybe it would be best to suffer in silence for the rest of your life. Shove those feelings down inside of you and swallow your words only to spend your nights dreaming of how it would feel to sleep next to him, to roll over into his arms. Maybe it was best to love him from afar. Rather that than ruin what was an amazing friendship. 

Right?

[lupiningwolves]

It was half past six in the morning for you but I wrote it at night, btw we are the same time zone!

Okay I hate when people think that Remus is a sex machine during full moons. It always depends. I remember that once he was so much in pain that we were just standing in his room for hours, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even have clothes on him because the touch was pure pain but he still had his head on my shoulder and let me scratch his hair.

He kept sleeping on me because his animalistic side was showing and he wanted to protect the person he loves with his own body (also one day he slept with James like that). He isn’t talkative for like 4 days and he just keep staring at everything. Mostly because he is scared of some argument but also because his capacity is kinda empty for that. After full moon I told him how pretty he is when I was washing and pampering him and he cried so then I kept him close to me again.

He once killed squirrel in his werewolf form and it was waking him up for months, like a nightmare which I gladly held him after that. He kept apologising for being a crybaby over a squirrel when I have nightmares in like flashbacks way from my trauma, and I kept reassuring him that no, that it’s totally fine, because I will gladly be woken up due to army of squirrels attacking the castle as a revenge.

Also we learned how to nice in those late nights when we can’t sleep. We suck, but it’s ours.

But man, sometimes, some full moons, the horniness is the one who won’t let you sleep. I will take it as Remus x you from this

His favourite position in this state is doggy style. Or just from behind.

“Y/n, you’re done for today.” he told you after your third class of today, which was his. “But I still have 5 classes today.” “No, no you don’t, come with me.”

He literally dragged you to his office but then he couldn’t wait and threw you on his shoulder. “Remus!” you gasped and his response was a slap on your asscheek.

“What’s our safeword?” he asked as he caressed your cheeks, looking for some sign of uncomfortablity in your look. You just bite your lip before saying “Red, daddy.” “Fuck that’s it, get ready that you won’t be leaving the full moon ends and you’re full of my seed.” he said as he turned you around so now you were facing to his desk. “Fuck I’m sorry for that, it’s just… it’s Moony…” he sighed because he was scared a bit about his breeding horny dirty talk. “Hope he will talk more, wanna know more of him and give him everything he wants.” you smirk at Remus when you saw his hard boner.

“Dirty girl.” he said and pulled up your skirt and smacked your ass. “You want me to take it off, daddy?” you asked and wiggled with your hips, making your asscheeks and thighs jiggle. “No, wanna cum on your skirt and see you walking around with my cum on that pretty school uniform.” he said and froze “I’m sorry.” You didn’t pay attention to this. “Remus please fuck me!” you pressed your ass to him and moaned when his clothed erected brushed over your core. He pushed you back and lifted up your skirt. He kneeled in front of your pussy and literally observed that clothed treasure.

“Of course it was you who drove me mad at the class, could fucking smell your pussy all the class.” he said as he showed your panties to the side and saw your soaked folds. “Fuck I’m so sorry, if it’s disgusting just tell and I will leave.” he looked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Marlin Remus, if I won’t hear more about how you want to give me your seed or how you could smell me, I’m literally leaving you here with this boner. I literally live for this dirty talk and if you will hold back, I’m gonna fuck myself right in front of you, won’t let you touch me and I will have the dirty talk with myself when I’m gonna use anatomical phrases for my body. Am I understood?” he was taken back with this. But who could be surprise with your a little bit dom side showing when you spent most of your time with Remus.

Remus quickly understand what you’re trying to do and it worked. He grabbed your neck and made you look up at him “Try to talk back like that with me once again and I will smack your pussy raw and I’ll fill your little ass, am I (aggressively) understood?” “Yes daddy.” “Good girl.” he turned you back and kneeled once again in front of your pussy. “So, anatomical phrases, huh?” he joked. “Uhm, yes, but like later. You know, when you’re horny you see everything horny.” you laughed in embarrassment and he moved your panties to the side. “Don’t worry pretty girl,” he blew to your aroused pussy which made you shiver. “I understand the assignment.” he laughed and showed two of his fingers in you.

“Daddy please no, give me your cock please, can take it.” you mumbled as he was about to bring your third orgasm just by his fingers. “Are you tryna to be a big girl? Fine, but be well aware that I won’t take mercy on you.” he chuckled and took of his clothes and underwear. “Don’t want mercy, want your dick in me” you mumbled and he smacked your ass. “Fucking dirty girl.” he chuckled as he lined himself with your entrance and pulled himself in in one motion and you both groaned at this. “Fucking love this warm pussy, could stay inside for days.” he moaned and started thrusting in animalistic speed. Which looked kinda funny but he had very important mission, to give you his kids.

“Fuck daddy.” you cried out because now he was literally a machine. His hands went to your breast and roughly grabbed them. “Take That fucking useful piece of fabric and throw it away.” “You mean my shirt?” “Shut your smart mouth and do what I said.” he smacked your ass, definitely leaving print. “Yes daddy.” you said as you took of your shirt, your breast now full on display. “Fuck I can’t hold it back anymore.” he whimpered and was ready to pull out but you stopped him.

“Then don’t, want you to talk like crazy and cum in me until you’re empty and I’m full.” you said and he smiled at that. Showing back inside and he stated thrusting again. Making your titts bounce and he all saw that in reflection on his bookshelf. “Fuck wanna see you full.” he mumbled and grabbed your waist, his dick staying in you as he came to his bedroom and threw himself with you on bed. He quickly started pounding again and with a quick movement with his wand, there was mirror in front of you so he could see you fall apart on his dick.

He held your arms as your back arched and you were moaning mess. His eyes were still on your titts. “You breast are gorgeous,” He said and grabbed them. He massaged your breast and his fingers dragged over your sensitive nipples. “Can’t wait to see them full of milk because you will carry my child.” he closed his eyes in embarrassment. But you only gasped “More daddy.”

Your hand went down to play with yourself but he quickly smacked it away. “If you want to play with your clitoris just say it.” he growled as one of his hand started playing with your bundle. His other hand stayed on your stomach. “Can feel myself in your tummy, princess.” he chuckled and pressed on your stomach more, the visible line of his cock was in you. “Right there, you’ll be full of my sperm.” “Fuck yes please, give it to me.”

“Yeah, you want to be going all around the castle with me seed deep in your womb, with my child in you and breast full of milk, full swelling up so everyone could ask ‘Who got her pregnant?’ without knowing that you let your professor fuck you?” he rasped out and you nodded for yes like crazy. “Yes!” you gasped out when you came around him and he pushed your back into the mattress. “Now stay still and let me empty myself.” he chuckled and you felt the warm liquid spreading in your core.

Remus didn’t stop his pace for almost two hours and until you were leaking around him that there was puddle of cum under you. He didn’t even change the position. When he finally pulled out he just stayed looking at your leaking pussy. “Would put it back, but I’m pretty sure my seed is already in your womb since you feel full.” his hand sneaked to your tummy that was filled with his cum and patted it. “Right here.” he chuckled and turned you on your back. He smiled when he saw the small bulge in your tummy and kissed it. “I fucking love you.” he whispered to you and you nodded in response, your voice already gone. You closed your eyes and snapped them open when you felt him opening your legs and pushing his still hard cock in you. “And we are not done yet.” he chuckled and fucked you fast and hard again, his eyes locked only on your breasts for another hours, imagining them leaking out with milk.

- ⛅️

fuck… i‘m in school … and horny

[exhaustedfander]

Okay uhhh I‘m not good at giving requests. How about prinxiety and them seeing each other again after a long time! Or sth like that.😅

I had three sperate ideas for this one, but this is the one I settled on. Here’s a fluffy little human au. I’d love to hear what you think! 

a03 link

materpost link

word count: 1,638

The Best Gift

Virgil rocks on his heels, glancing at his phone. According to Roman’s text, his plane landed about fifteen minutes ago. He’d be outside to greet him any moment now, and that in itself fills Virgil with more joy than he’d felt in a while.

Roman does what he could to avoid performing in shows too far away from home. He’s always scouring for gigs in the area, or at least not too terribly far away, not exactly eager to spend long periods away from his emo nightmare. However, sometimes there are roles that Roman can’t shy away from, as much as he hates the idea of leaving Virgil, and this had been one of those times.

It isn’t as though Virgil doesn’t understand; dating a traveling actor, his boyfriend actually traveling, sometimes, isn’t something that can really come from a surprise. More than that, Virgil’s incredibly supportive of his partner. Roman’s a hell of an actor and he knows it. He deserves to grace every stage that will have him, larger ones, especially. But that doesn’t make the time apart any less difficult.

Sure, they call each other a ton, Roman insists on Facetiming nightly, and they keep in touch as best they can. But it’s never any easier, facing that empty bed at the end of the day. It can be a lot to handle, realizing audiences of strangers are being graced with Roman’s presence while Virgil is home alone eating Ramen Noodles and sulking.

It’s not as though Roman is Virgil’s entire world – he’s damn close, though. Virgil has friends he loves spending time with. He works as a freelance artist, so holing himself up at home is usually more fun than depressing, painting all day long. But god, he misses Roman when he’s away. Maybe more than he’s willing to admit, sometimes.

Three months has got to be the longest they’ve spent apart since they’ve been dating, at least as far as Virgil can remember. The gig was a role of a lifetime, Roman would’ve had to be sufficiently stupid not to take it, but it wasn’t easy on the couple. Virgil flew up to see one of Roman’s shows, and that was great, but it made going back home all the more challenging. Roman’s been gone so long, Virgil’s aching to see him, and any minute now, he’s gonna get to.

Virgil can certainly think of worse ways to spend a birthday.

“Virgil?” Virgil swivels around, grinning ear-to-ear when he sees Roman walking his way, suitcase in tow. Virgil practically sprints toward him, immediately pulled into a firm embrace the moment they make contact.

“My love, my angel, mi amour,” Roman drawls, dramatic as ever but Virgil can’t find it in himself to be irritated with him, “I missed you!” Roman gets on his tiptoes (Virgil would be lying if he said he hadn’t always found their height difference adorable) pressing their lips together soundly. If they weren’t in public, Virgil would want nothing more than to keep kissing Roman for eternity, but alas.

“I missed you too, dork,” Virgil says with an unshakable grin as they pull apart, though his hand quickly finds Roman’s free-one as they walk towards the taxis, the sound of Roman’s luggage wheeling behind them. “How’s the jet lag?”

“Absolutely abysmal,” Roman declares, and Virgil’s fairly sure he’s being a little dramatic, if such a thing is even possible, “Can we have a quiet day at home? I want nothing more than to lay on the couch with you and watch Disney movies, and continue to declare my undying love for you.” Virgil snorts.

“Aw, you poor baby,” he says, only half-sarcastically, “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. Sound good to me.”

The two talk of their missed time together in the cab, Virgil telling him of some of the new pieces he’s been working on and Roman filling him in on how the play went.

“That’s the last far-away show I do for a while,” Roman says once they’ve arrived home, flopping down on the couch, “God, it’s good to be home with you.”

“That’d be nice,” Virgil admits, sitting beside Roman, which quickly turns to settling into his lap, Roman’s fingers threaded in his hair, “Not – not that you can’t do shows wherever. I get it.”

“Hey, I mean it,” Roman says, voice edging on seriousness, “I’ve missed you terribly. I’ve missed us. I loved doing the show, and I met some very wonderful people, but very little compares to you, my love.” Virgil laughs lightly as Roman presses a kiss to his lips, firm and overwhelmingly loving.

“Jesus, you’ve managed to get even sappier than usual.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, darling,” Roman says, “And, also, shut up! You love it.” Virgil glares playfully at his boyfriend.

“And what if I do?”

“And you looove me,” Roman says, drawling out the ‘o’ as far as it’ll stretch. Virgil rolls his eyes, but his expression betrays nothing but fondness. “Yeah, I do. I really fucking love you, Ro.”

“More than angsty emo bands?”

“Well… let’s not go that far.” Roman squawks in offense.

“You wound me!” Virgil laughs again, the sound far more content than he’s felt in the last few months, his arms winding around his boyfriend so that he’s lying against his chest.

“I’m teasing and you know it,” Virgil says, kissing Roman once more as if to further his point, or maybe just because he’s really missed kissing him, “I missed you like crazy.”

“One of my co-stars flirted with me; would you believe that?” Virgil hums in place of a response, lost in the feeling of embracing Roman against for the first time in what feels like forever. “I have you as my lock screen, and I talk of you constantly. Also, where in the world did she get the impression I had the slightest interest in women?!” Virgil snorts at that.

“Must’ve been an off-day for her if she was delusional enough to think you were straight, or bi, or anything that isn’t insanely gay.”

“I know, right!”

Virgil’s missed this so much. Their playful back-and-forth, innocuous teasing, cuddling on the couch and basking in each other's company. As far as he’s concerned, he’d like to keep holding onto Roman like this and never, ever let him go. Virgil can’t recall when he’d become such a fucking sap, but there’s no changing it now. He’s just gonna have to live with it, and he really doesn’t mind the thought of that.

They watch Disney movies as discussed, Virgil critiquing and pointing out plot-holes all the while (Virgil, everyone knows Beauty and the Beast is a little problematic, and frankly, I don’t want to hear it!) He can tell the long flight really wore Roman out, so he decides not to comment about the fact that it’s his birthday, instead putting all of his focus on being together again.

That is until Virgil comes out of the bathroom some hours later, having just gotten ready for bed, and finding Roman sitting on their bed with a sullen expression.

“Whoa, hey, Roman, what’s the matter?” He asks, quickly sitting beside his partner.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.” Virgil blinks. What the fuck?

“What? No, you’re not. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your birthday,” Roman supplies, sounding gut-wrenchingly guilty, “I forgot your birthday!”

Oh. Virgil had kinda forgotten himself, too caught up in having Roman by his side once more. He glances at the clock.

“It’s not midnight yet,” he says, “You didn’t forget. Just remembered a little late.” Roman buries his face in his hands.

“I didn’t get you anything! I didn’t wish you happy birthday! I-I’m terrible, you must hate me!” Virgil sighs, settling a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman…”

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles weakly, embarrassedly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t hate you.” Roman peaks up from his hands, daring to make eye-contact.

“You… you don’t?”

“Jesus Christ, of course not! I love you, you idiot. It’s just a birthday, I’m gonna have more of those, you know. It’s kind of this annual thing.”

“But- but I didn’t –.”

“It’s fine, babe. Seriously, I kinda forgot, too. Having you home again is gift enough, as it is. I can’t think of a better present than that.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Virgil shakes his head, planting a kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“No need. There’s nothing to make up for. You look ready to pass out right now, as it is. I’m not mad at you for forgetting; you’ve been so fucking busy for the last couple of months, and you had a long-ass plane ride today. You’re permitted a little forgetfulness, okay?” Roman sighs as he slides into bed with Virgil and shuts out the light, his head resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow.” Virgil lets out a sigh.

“You don’t have to –.”

“I want to,” Roman insists, “It’s the least I can do since you’re being so gracious.”

“What, were you expecting me to force you to the couch, or something?” Roman pauses. “Roman?”

“…Maybe.” Virgil can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Are you kidding me? After all those nights without you, I’m not letting you go anywhere.” To make sure things are crystal-clear, he tightens his hold on Roman, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“That’s good because I really wasn’t looking forward to it.”

“You’re such a dramatic doofus. Lucky that you’re so cute,” Virgil says, feeling Roman begin to go lax with exhaustion.

“Mm, love you, Virgey,” Roman mumbles sleepily.

“I love you too, Ro.”

“Happy birthday…,” Roman says before sleep greets him and he drifts off. Virgil shuts his eyes, contentment washing over him as, too, welcomes slumber.

Despite Roman’s insistent apology, Virgil still can’t think of a better birthday present.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

Please let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist! I’d be happy to add you! 

[051093]

let’s make another | v

words: 2534

pairing: jihyun “v” kim x reader

genre: dad!v, fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, i destroyed myself writing this, implied sexual content, just cute shit tbh

description: in which seven and yoosung visit their favorite baby girl — and you and your husband celebrate your fourth anniversary.

my masterlist.

“Lucy!”

You squint at the house, waiting for her head of haphazard hazel hair to appear any second, but it’s so silent that you can hear the summer breeze threading through your hair. Cicadas chirp in the distance.

“Lucy Kim!” You try again, raising your volume to a shout that bounces around the courtyard. “Get down here! Your uncles are here to see you!”

More silence. A laugh sounds from behind you.

“Well, Yoosung,” Seven quips. “I think it’s time we headed back. It was great seeing you, Y/N.”

You give him a stern look and he puts his hands in the air.

“Or not. Wow. I’ve forgotten how well you mastered the motherly glare.”

“If only it worked on my daughter,” you mutter, drumming your fingers against your hips. “Where in the world could she be?”

“Is she playing hide and seek again?” Yoosung laughs. “Do you remember last time I visited? When you couldn’t find her for the longest time and she was in your closet all along?”

“The day I nearly lost my mind, you mean? How could I forget?” You shake your head. “I would’ve called the police if Zen hadn’t heard her evil cackling while he was in the restroom upstairs.”

Seven sighs fondly. “She takes after me so well.”

“Come on. Let’s go inside for now. I’m sure she’ll turn up.” You drape an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders. “I missed you both.”

“We missed you too,” Yoosung hums. “How are you? How’s V?”

“We’re good.” The three of you walk up the porch stairs. “I‘m working from home to take care of the little maniac, and he’s been going on photography trips regularly again.”

“That’s right. I heard about that. Doesn’t the Korean Museum of Modern Art—” He stops mid-sentence, amber eyes widening. “—you angel. Is that Ph.D Pepper I see?”

You’ve stepped into your living room, an open, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows bathing the area in sunlight. Indeed, the table in the center has been laid out with cans of Seven’s go-to beverage, side by side with freshly baked buns for Yoosung. The boys’ faces brighten upon seeing the refreshments.

“Oh, yes. I ran to the grocery store an hour before you got here.” You gesture. “For Saeyoung, the soda he loves far too much for his own good, and for Yoosung…you like the red bean ones, right? Did I remember correctly?”

Yoosung gives you an elated hug. “Yes! You’re amazing. I complained to Seven the entire way here about being hungry. Thank you thank you thank you.”

They sink into the couch and dig in, satisfied.

“Anyway, what was I saying?” Seven says, now with a Ph.D Pepper in hand. “Oh, right. I heard the Korean Museum of Modern Art wants to open an exhibit just for his photographs.”

“Yes. He’s working on that right now,” you say. “The new collection is absolutely beautiful. He thinks it might be his best work yet, and I completely agree.”

“Aw, look at her proud smile,” Yoosung teases through a mouthful of bread, then pouts. “You guys are so cute. It’s been almost four years and I’m still jealous.”

“Hey, what do you mean, jealous?” Seven says, nudging Yoosung with a foot. “Have you forgotten about that girl from the internet cafe already?”

“What?” You say, swiveling towards Yoosung, who’s turned beet red and stopped mid-chew. “There’s a girl, Yoosung?”

“N-no,” he stutters.

“Yes there is!” Seven sings gleefully. “There’s a girl!”

“Oh, I expect to hear all about this,” you say, but you know by the sound of thunderous footsteps that you’re about to be interrupted.

Bright eyes, far too big for her tiny face, appear around the corner. Things you notice: she’s covered in paint. She’s barefoot. Her hair is a mess. And all three and a half feet of her are now hurtling in your direction.

“SEVENY! YOOSUNG!”

“LUCY!” They shout in perfect unison. Both boys immediately forget about the food in hand and jump to their feet.

She barrels into Seven’s arms first, the redhead sweeping her tiny frame into a tight embrace, then leaps into Yoosung’s lap next, small arms thrown around his neck. Her eyes crinkle from her grin and her mouth splits in a delighted shriek as Yoosung gives her sides an affectionate tickle.

You can’t help but mirror her grin. The girl has always had a knack for making those around her smile a little wider, and the members are no exception. She’s close to them all, due to their frequent visits and unwavering affection towards her, but she once whispered to you that Seven and Yoosung were her favorites. You’re not surprised — there’s playful and hilarious Seven who makes her laugh like no other, and there’s Yoosung who’s so sweet and kind that he’s essentially her big brother.

“Mommy!” Lucy says brightly, looking at you from her seat on Yoosung’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hi, sweetie.” You cradle her hair and press a kiss to her forehead. “Where’s your dad?”

As if on cue, a second set of footsteps come down the stairs. You lift your head and a fond smile tugs at your lips.

Everything about your husband is familiar by now, from his cerulean eyes to sharp jaw, tall frame and lean build, but you’ll never get tired of the way he looks after spending time with Lucy, that aura of tired bliss. Happiness looks good on him, you think to yourself as he walks towards you. So does that shirt.

“Hey,” you murmur as he curls an arm around your waist.

He dips his head and kisses you in lieu of hello, one that’s short but sweet. The taste of coffee and mint lingers behind on your tongue when he pulls away.

“Sorry we’re late, darling,” he says. “Lucy made a bit of a mess.”

“That’s okay. Painting again?”

“Mhm. It’s all she wants to do recently. I think I’ve created a monster.”

Now that he’s closer, you see that the material of his linen shirt has fallen victim to the paint as well, tiny polka dots of color spattered here and there. “She’s good at it, clearly. I like what she’s done to your shirt.”

“Ah, you do?”

“Yes. You look absolutely dashing.”

He leans in to kiss you once more, this time smiling against your mouth, his voice a deep whisper. “Thank you, my lovely wife.”

“EWW!” Seven shouts from the other end of the room. “Cover your eyes, Lucy. Your parents are being gross.”

You begin to pull away, your face flushed. V presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Hi, hyung!” Yoosung says cheerily.

“Yoosung. Saeyoung,” V greets warmly. “You’re both well, I hope? Thanks for coming all this way to visit us.”

“Lucy,” Yoosung corrects, his arms wound tightly around the little girl. You can’t tell who of the two looks happier. “Came here to visit Lucy.”

“Of course,” V laughs. “Then you’re both staying for dinner. For Lucy.”

“Wheeeeee!” Lucy squeals. “Stay for dinner! Stay for dinner!”

“You know, I actually had a bit of work left…” Seven’s voice trails off into a smile. “But alright. Anything for you, little Luc.”

“Great,” you say. “I’ll be off to cook soon, since it’s almost dinnertime. Care to help, Yoosung?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be right there.”

The two of you head off for the kitchen, and you hear Saeyoung’s bright plea as you walk away.

“Oh, right, V! Will you show me your new collection?”

“It’s not ready — ”

“I don’t care. I want to see!”

“I WANT TO SEE!” Lucy echoes emphatically.

You open the fridge to conceal your smile. It’s like you and V have two kids instead of one.

....

“Mommy, I think I ruined daddy’s shirt today.”

You can’t help but laugh at Lucy’s sudden revelation, lifting the blanket for her. “You got a little paint on it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Lucy crawls into bed, lying down and resting her cheek on the pillow. “But I didn’t mean to!”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It was pretty,” Lucy murmurs sadly. “Can we clean it up again?”

“Yes. Here, I’ll tell you what.” You tug the covers up until they cover her shoulders, then smooth them down so you can see her face. “We’ll clean it off together tomorrow.”

She looks up at you. “We will?”

Even four years later, it blows your mind at times how your adopted daughter could easily pass for your biological child, with long locks the same color as yours and V’s eyes, and your heart swells affectionately at the sight of her glimmering blue irises, suddenly bright with anticipation.

“Yes, my dearest.” You nudge the apple of her cheek with a gentle knuckle. “I promise. But stop worrying about daddy’s shirt and first get a good night’s sleep, okay?”

A smile tugs at her lips, and she allows her eyes to fall shut. “Okay.”

“Sweet dreams, little one.” You crouch and lean forward to press a quick kiss to her nose. “I love you so so much.”

“I love you more more more.”

“Nuh-uh. Mommy loves you most.”

“Well, I love you…mostest!” She erupts into a fit of giggles and you can’t help but laugh with her. 

“Good night, silly girl.”

You turn off the lights on your way out, looking over your shoulder; in the glow of the nearby night light, Lucy burrows deeper until she’s reduced to a head of hair and a tiny lump beneath the sheets. There’s a small, loving smile on your face when you leave the room and close the door behind you.

Your room is similarly dimly lit. The source of light is coming from the bathroom and accompanied by the gentle sound of swishing water. You crack the door open. V stands shirtless in front of the mirror, bent over and washing something white in the sink.

“Oh, no,” you lament, and he looks your reflection in the mirror as you walk up behind him. “Lucy wanted to wash that out for you.”

His hands freeze in the sink. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You gently wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face against the toned muscle of his back. “She just told me how bad she felt about getting paint on it.”

He chuckles. “Did she mention her own clothes? They were essentially her makeshift paint palette.”

“No. I was thinking about that, too,” you laugh. “It’s a weird, selfless girl we have.”

“Like mother like daughter.”

He turns around to face you. “You promised her she’d wash the shirt?” You nod. “Maybe we should mess it up again then.”

The sudden proximity (and the planes of golden muscle, the dip of his collarbones, the definition of his arms and neck) leaves you breathless. You run your fingers down his chest, your voice softening. 

“I could think of a few other things we could mess up, handsome.”

The last thing you see is a boyish grin that only appears when you’ve said something suggestive and then his lips are on yours. He movies with the comfort and confidence of someone who knows your lips all too well; in no time, there’s a tongue brushing against your lower lip and an arm snaking around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

The next thing you know, you’re being lowered onto the mattress. Your head hits the pillow and V is on top of you, arms flexing as he holds himself above you, kissing you languidly, heatedly. You groan into his mouth, threading your fingers through his silky locks and tangling them at the nape of his neck, hooking a leg over his hip, wanting him closer, closer —

Through the open window comes the first chime of midnight. 

There’s a church not far away that has a bell tower and sounds off the day’s hours. It’s become a commonality, but there’s something different about it tonight, something that causes you both to hesitate. V breaks the kiss, labored breath tickling your skin as the two of you listen.

Twelve chimes. Midnight.

You turn your head back to V. When you meet his gaze, his eyes are barely visible, but the small amount of moonlight that seeps through the curtains allows you to see how his face has changed entirely. His pupils are still dilated from lust, but his expression has softened. His lips have parted, unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, the beautiful aqua of his irises swimming with something you know well. Love. Adoration.

“Is it…?” He breathes.

You lift a hand to his cheek, a weak smile appearing on your lips.

“Happy anniversary, Jihyun,” you whisper.

Though he’s been living contentedly for a long time now, he’s always been quite serious. You know this is due to the ghost of his past that trails him wherever he goes; he still dreams of his mother, and often reminisces on the deep depression he fell into after Rika’s alleged suicide. The memories have undoubtedly taken their toll on him, even after all this time.

But there are rare moments when he actually looks his age, and this is one of them: when the smile that breaks across his face is, in one word, happy, so happy.

His arms wind around your waist as he leans in, dusting a kiss to your jaw, then your collarbone, where he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Four, is it?” He whispers.

“Four,” you say.

A few moments pass, the only sounds being his gentle breathing and the rhythmic beat of your pulse in your ears. And the shift of fabric as he lowers himself onto the mattress beside you, his arms circling around your waist.

“Four years,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your skin. “You know, I’m glad I have photography in my life again, as well as the friendship and trust of the RFA members, and there’s no doubt those things make me happy, but I have to be honest with myself here…you’re the reason. For all the happiness, all the love. My heart and my soul have been so at peace for so long because I’ve had you by my side.

“You and Lucy have made me the luckiest man in the world.” His voice drops, his words so quiet you only just make them out. “Thank you for coming into my life four years ago, my angel. I love you endlessly.”

You graze a finger beneath his chin, tilting his head up so you can kiss him. This time is sweet, deep, and grateful, if the grin etched on your lips is any indication.

“And I,” you say, pulling back to wrap your hands around the nape of his neck, to rest your forehead against his, “love you too, Jihyun. To the ends of the solar system and back.”

He gazes into your eyes a few moments more, and then the devilish smile is back and he’s leaning in to press a trail of kisses down your neck. You arch into him, barely hearing him over the sound of your own moan.

“Fuck it,” are his words. “Let’s make Lucy a baby sibling.”

[killherfreakout]

i’ve got the touch placebo

elu au / 5.2k words

“You don’t remember a lot of things.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas’ voice cracks slightly when he asks, those oceans looking like high tide. Eliott’s heart drops to his stomach at the question. Does he tell him, or does he keep that kiss locked away as the secret they didn’t know they were keeping?

or: Lucas kissed Eliott after a few too many one night; three times Eliott almost brings it up, and the one time he does.

:readmore:

It all started by accident, really. Eliott falling for Lucas, that is. He’s always had a little crush on his best friend, but one night changed everything. 

It all started when Lucas kissed him. But, you see, that’s the problem - that was months ago. Lucas kissed him, and absolutely nothing was different between them. Eliott doesn’t know if Lucas just regrets it and pretends it didn’t happen, or if he’s waiting for Eliott to bring it up, or worse: he doesn’t remember.

Sure, Lucas may have had a few too many that night, but was it really enough to make him forget? Enough to have absolutely no memory of something that completely turned Eliott’s world upside down?

If a drunken kiss was all it really was, Eliott doesn’t know what to do. But if it was more, he wouldn’t know the first thing either.  

Sometimes Eliott thinks he’s got enough love for the both of them, and perhaps that is enough. Or at least he’s trying to convince himself that it is.

*

Eliott is perched on the edge of Emma’s balcony where he slipped out of the party going on inside, opting for some fresh air and a smoke. The gang and the girls are celebrating the end of terminale and Eliott comes to join the fun even though he has another uni exam before he’s finally free. It’s a warm summer night and a slight breeze offers some relief from the muggy air and crowded apartment. The moon keeps him company until he’s joined by another warm body in search of his.

Lucas nearly trips over the lip of the balcony door and giggles at his own misstep. Eliott tries his best not to laugh, but a small chuckle escapes, earning him a retort from the other boy.

“Hey! Are you laughing at me?” Lucas asks after he tips back the rest of the bottle of vodka he’s holding, his voice higher than normal and cracking towards the end. It’s way too endearing for Eliott that he smiles around the rolled paper between his lips.

He doesn’t respond, and next thing he knows, Lucas lunges forward and snatches the joint right out of his hand in retaliation. Eliott looks at him in disbelief and Lucas has a devilish grin on his face, again way too endearing to be taken seriously. 

Lucas tilts his chin and chest out with pride and brings the joint to his lips. He takes a long hit, breathing in deep and feeling the strength of the weed. He coughs and hands the joint back to its owner as he recovers.

“That is good shit, fuck,” Lucas adds when he regains his breath. “And expensive, I bet.”

Eliott does one of his signature shrugs. “I know a guy” is all he says to that.

Lucas scoffs at his smug reply and comes to join him on the edge of the balcony. He sits on the ledge with his back against the wall and hugs his legs close to his chest. Eliott’s heart skips a beat at how small he looks.

Lucas unwraps his arms and reaches one out to Eliott, a gap between his first and second fingers in a silent plea for the joint again. Eliott obliges and transfers it to him, hands touching for a fleeting moment - the weed is nothing in comparison to the high he gets from moments like this.

There’s a wrinkle in Lucas’ brow when he notices something. The joint in his hand points to Eliott’s, specifically a faint smudge of black on his right hand. 

“Otteli strikes again?” Lucas is amused at himself and Eliott tries not to indulge him. “I’m best friends with a famous urbex artist, I might have to use that as a pick up line someday.”

The words cut deep coming from him. Sometimes Eliott forgets about his enormous crush on his best friend because everything is so easy with them, but other times - like this - it’s hard to forget. Eliott hides behind the smoke, hoping his face doesn’t give him away.

“I‘m not sure how effective that will be, but...” he raises his hands in acquiescence. 

“Of course it will work!” Lucas’ voice is wet and nasaly and still fucking adorable. “I mean, you’re basically the French Banksy.”

“I wish,” Eliott laughs. “They’re rich and not just tagging places with their spirit animal.” He picks at his cuticles and stares at the remnants of spray paint on his skin, suddenly insecure and words sounding more bitter than he planned.

Something changes on Lucas’ face. “Your tag is fucking cool!” His face goes back to before, features softened by the weed and alcohol aglow in the city lights and embers of the joint. 

Eliott’s heart keeps skipping a beat at every compliment, but especially at the adorable declaration of the love of his silly signature raccoon tag.

“And need I remind you that you’re rich? I mean,” Lucas pinches the joint between his thumb and forefinger, raising it to prove his point.

Lucas hops down from the ledge and stumbles a bit; he finds the vodka bottle again and frowns when he realizes he already emptied it. 

“I may need to marry rich, what with the way my bac went, to be honest.” Lucas is walking across the balcony, bringing the heel of one shoe in front of the toes of the other, wobbling with each step.

He looks extremely focused even though his movements are lazy and slow. And suddenly he gasps as a lightbulb goes off in his head, face lighting up -  both Lucas and Eliott’s. “I know! I’ll just marry you if it doesn’t work out. There, problem solved.”

And no amount of warning could prepare Eliott for a sentence like that coming out of Lucas’ mouth. This time his heart drops straight down to the street two stories below.

Lucas nearly faceplants when he steps on his own shoelace, but Eliott slides off the ledge in time to catch him before he falls. They lock eyes for what feels like the first and only time ever; Lucas’ intense, big, blue doe eyes meeting his and quite literally steal his breath away.

Lucas retreats from their embrace for another hit, the joint burning shorter and shorter.

Eliott sputters, trying to think of a way to change the subject before he melts into a puddle. “We won’t be getting married if you keep smoking all of my weed,” he tries as a comeback. 

Lucas looks up at him like a deer in headlights or a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar. He looks down at the joint that has about one hit left in it, then that devilish look grows on his face once again.

Eliott swears that time stops just for them as he watches every move Lucas makes like it’s at half speed. The joint is closed between Lucas’ bitten lips, and suddenly Eliott feels the smoke in his lungs when the other boy leans forward and presses their lips together.

It’s so sudden and unexpected that it makes Eliott’s mouth open wider in a gasp, and Lucas takes it as an invitation to test the waters. He slips a tongue into Eliott’s open mouth, and Eliott thinks he is in both heaven and hell. 

Eliott instinctively reciprocates the kiss until he gets a grip and tastes the alcohol on Lucas’ tongue, reminding him of the fact that Lucas is not sober enough to warrant this. He pulls back, cheeks flushed, but Lucas looks unaffected - like nothing earth-shattering just happened.

Eliott’s phone rings in his pocket; turns out Idriss left his keys at the apartment and needs Eliott to let him in.

Lucas notices the interruption and, with a gravelly voice, says, “Sorry about the weed,” before stepping inside, tripping on the threshold again.

Eliott stares at the moon high in the sky who was witness to his entire world being flipped upside down. He takes a deep breath and walks down the stairs to retrieve his heart from the ground. 

1. 

Eliott is sitting on the dock of the lake with his feet dipping into the crystal blue water below, weight held up by his arms outstretched behind him. The remaining droplets on his tanning skin quickly evaporate into the warm summer air, leaving a cool sensation in their wake. 

There’s some shouting and splashing from the far side of the lake where Basile, Arthur, and Yann are jumping off the neighbor’s dock and trampoline. Eliott had his fun with them earlier and went for a cooldown on his own while he watched the guys perform backflip after backflip.

The usual suspects have all traveled to Arthur’s beach house to kick off the gang’s last summer before they go separate ways for university. The girls are here too; they went inside to fix dinner for everyone while the boys spent the sun’s dying hours out on the water.

Lucas is swimming his way back over to Arthur’s dock and Eliott sits up in anticipation of his return. 

It’s been a total of 72 hours since the night of the party. The night that the love of Eliott’s life and best friend of over 10 years had kissed him. Not so accidentally, but also not quite on purpose.

He hadn’t even had a full conversation with Lucas since that night - the day after the other boy had the world’s worst hangover, the next Eliott was taking his last final exam of the semester, and then they were at the lake. Lucas had fallen asleep against the window for most of the car ride and every other waking moment was full of Basile’s ill-timed jokes and Emma’s ramblings over her recent Tinder dates. 

In other words, there was no appropriate time or place to bring up the situation. No opportunity to ask, hey, remember when you kissed me haha? And Eliott didn’t want to say it like that, so nonchalant and in sing-song with a poke to the ribs. Because it meant something to him, more than he ever thought a drunken kiss could, and because it would kill him to make Lucas think that it meant anything less. 

It’s like that night Lucas gave him this enormous heavy feeling but in a physical form - held it in his hands and said here, hold this and left, but not without Eliott’s heart. And Eliott was left holding on to it, this thing he couldn’t quite find the word or feeling for, and a hole where his heart should be. And it’s softened now, melted, turned to liquid and still losing shape. And with every glance and hidden smile more and more slips from his hands. 

Eliott is violently brought back to his senses when everything in his vision is darkened by the shadow of Lucas climbing up the ladder of the dock and blocking the setting sun. Eliott’s eyes involuntarily rake down the boy before him, all sun-soaked skin and water dripping from every pore. He catches himself after a second too long, obvious even under the sunglasses he has on. He tilts his head back up to Lucas standing at the edge of the dock - taller than him for once - and the sight makes Eliott’s insides shift. 

Eliott’s eyes adjust to the lack of direct sunlight, squinting up at him. He watches as Lucas brings both of his hands through his wet locks, putting his skin on display as the water that Eliott swam in returns to the air, reflecting what’s left of the day’s rays as they go. Eliott feels a shiver run down his spine - be it at the sight in front of him or the now dry surface of his own skin.

“You coming?”

Before he realizes, there’s a hand being offered to him. Eliott’s brain is a few steps behind and he takes the hand when it catches up. Lucas pulls him up and he’s back to being the taller one, although he still feels at Lucas’ mercy. 

Lucas leads the way back to the house, leaving wet footprints on the dock and concrete of the patio. Eliott follows and uses the prints as relief from the scorching surface. Lucas grabs the towel hanging on the patio chair, rubs it into his wet hair, then lets the damp material hang around his neck. 

And there it is, finally: a moment where he could bring it up. A chance to give back the heavy, shifting feeling he’s been holding since. Ask him if he remembers, if he meant it, if he regrets it. The shapeless thing he carries starts to move again, starts to form into something akin to the shape he was given. He can give it back. 

Eliott stands there looking at Lucas, eyes flicking down to the lips he can’t stop thinking about on his own. They’re red and chapped now, a product of sun and salt. He holds in a breath and forces his eyes up to Lucas’, which are darting around the patio looking for something. 

The moment is there and then it’s gone - and the thing starts to slip yet again, just as the water had off of Lucas’ back. 

“Hey, did you bring any chapstick, by chance?” Lucas asks when he can’t find what he’s looking for.

That’s another thing that happens sometimes: Eliott thinks about something and the next minute Lucas brings it up, or vise versa. Like noticing his chapped lips conjured Lucas to search for relief. 

“Uh, yeah.” Eliott walks over to the bedroom he and Lucas and Arthur share through the back door and returns with it. 

He hands it over to Lucas; the gesture feels strangely intimate given the context of Eliott’s feelings toward him, the context that their lips have touched now. It feels coded with something more than a favor for a friend, and hurts more than it should. 

“Thanks,” Lucas says before removing the cap and pushing the balm onto the split skin. 

Eliott can imagine the minty balm stinging the cracks in the other boy’s lips and swears he can feel the same tingly sensation on his own, even without having used it all day. 

It’s entirely innocent, but it gets Eliott’s heartbeat to quicken at the thought of using the chapstick after him. It doesn’t have to mean anything - Lucas borrowing his chapstick - but it does. It’s as if the tube of balm is a placebo for the real thing - having his lips pressed to Lucas’ again - but still just as effective. 

And technically another moment presents itself: the topic of lips, specifically both of theirs, sharing something like the lip balm. 

Think, Eliott, think. He could casually comment on the party, ask how bad the hangover was, anything to get the ball rolling. But the second Lucas returns his gaze and places the tube in his hands again, all rational thought leaves his mind at once. 

The silence is starting to grow uncomfortable until Lucas breaks it.

“How was your exam, by the way?” He shoves some hair behind his ear and rubs his lips together to spread the product.

“Uh, it was fine,” Eliott answers, watching the movement. Something blooms in his chest at Lucas asking about it, the genuine curiosity present on his golden face.

Say something, anything about the party. 

He gets an idea. 

“You know—” He stops when Lucas puts the towel back on the chair to dry. The remaining sunlight hits just right, the balm on his lips shiny and intoxicating. Eliott swallows and starts again. “You know, if college doesn’t work out I could always marr—” 

“Lucas, there you are!” Arthur shouts as the trio come walking through the patio to get inside.

The look on the younger boy’s face turns bright at the sight of his friends, high points of his cheeks dusted pink with sun and stars sprinkled on his nose in the form of freckles. Yann shoves his shoulder and the skin turns white before returning to the pinkish tan. The skin is soon covered in cotton when Lucas shrugs his shirt on. 

Lucas bites the corner of his bottom lip and gives Eliott a glance over his shoulder when he follows the guys inside - a glance that could be saying something, but Eliott’s not sure what.

Eliott makes his way to the kitchen and pours some drinks and thanks the girls for preparing the meal. Everyone sits around the counter and some at the table nearby; Lucas takes the seat across from him. 

There’s chatter between the girls and the gang that Eliott feels slightly disconnected from, but he focuses on filling his empty stomach with food. 

“Eli, what were you going to say, outside?” Lucas inquires, not in a whisper but not loud enough to draw attention towards them.

And there’s another moment, right there for the taking. Lucas literally asks about it - possibly without even intending to. 

Lucas looks at him while taking another bite then puts his fork down to take his napkin and wipe the pasta sauce - and chapstick - off his mouth. 

Eliott’s chest feels tight again, the heavy feeling still there but no longer physically. No way he can hold it and give it back now. The moment is gone like the sun for the day, only leaving what it has touched behind.

The placebo burns a hole in the pocket of his boardshorts. “It was nothing.”

2.

Eliott hates drinking. He’s not a fan of the taste of beer, wine is okay only if it’s expensive, and liquor is gross unless mixed with so much sugar that makes the hangover even worse than straight alcohol.

He finds himself in a gay bar with Lucas celebrating Mika’s half-birthday because Mika decided that ‘6 months is too long’ to celebrate.

It has now been two months since the kiss and neither of them have said a word about it. The unnamed thing Lucas dropped into his hands has vanished, no way of returning it to its owner. Every day is harder to pretend and even harder to speak up. 

The birthday boy is already on his way to being wasted living it up on the dance floor and Eliott sits next to Lucas at the bar. Lucas is on his second beer and Eliott has a melting vodka tonic in front of him. The DJ takes a short break and the music changes to quieter radio jams through the house speakers instead of the mixing table.

“So?” Lucas asks behind his beer bottle, tilting his chin in the direction of a handsome guy across the bar. “Aren’t you gonna go over there and talk to him?”

Eliott looks at the sweaty glass on the countertop and quickly glances over to the him Lucas refers. He picks up the glass and raises it in the guy’s direction as a thank you and sips the thin black straw. It’s strong but watery and makes his lips pucker.

“Isn’t he the one who’s supposed to make the move?” Eliott answers Lucas’ question with one of his own and flags the bartender for water instead.

Lucas points to the drink. “Well, technically, he already did.” Eliott huffs. 

The music picks up again as the DJ puts on another mix, volume even louder than before, or perhaps it’s just loud in comparison to the radio.

Eliott raises his voice and leans into Lucas’ ear. “What if I’m not interested?”

When he pulls back, they share a look similar to the one at Arthur’s lakehouse with the same indescribable meaning. There’s also something different this time in the way Lucas intentionally keeps his gaze. 

It’s dark on this side of the club but when the flashing lights hit the side of Lucas’ face he notices the contrast of his crystal eyes and his blown pupils. Eliott thinks if he stares any longer he’ll drown in their oceans.

To stay afloat, Eliott turns back toward the mirrored wall behind the bar and grabs his water to sip. The second the liquid touches his tongue he realizes it’s not the water he reached for, but the vodka soda. He winces in reaction and shoves the glass toward the lip of the counter out of his reach.

He can feel Lucas’ eyes on him and then in the direction of the sender of the drink. Eliott gathers the courage to look again, but he shouldn’t have - the determined scowl of his brow hurts more than the back of his throat when he puts together what Lucas plans to do.

Lucas reaches for the drink at the edge of the bar and brings it to his lips, tongue darting out to catch the thin black straw he closes his lips around, downing as much of the concoction as he can stomach. 

Still looking at the guy across the bar, Lucas says, “Then I’ll tell him you say thanks for the drink.” 

Eliott’s soul is soaked when he sees the blue of Lucas' glance as he makes his way over to the other end of the bar.

Over the next two hours Eliott nurses his glass of water from his seat and tortures himself by watching Lucas dance dangerously close to the stranger that hit on him with a new drink in hand.

Eliott directs his attention to the glass Lucas emptied when it gets too much to bear. The black straw sits in the glass of ice staring him down and he gets a new urge to drink the remnants of alcohol from it. Perhaps it’s a new prescription of placebo that would work better than the drink itself.

Eliott steps out for a cigarette later, in need of the fresh air more than the smoke in his lungs, but it gives him something to do instead of sulking in a room of dancing strangers. 

Lucas comes to find him minutes after, no handsome stranger on his arm. 

“Okay. My head hurts so bad I can’t stay a second longer,” he says instead of a greeting, words slurred and movements wobbly. 

“Where’s Mika?” Eliott asks, helping him stand up straighter.

Lucas giggles. “He went home with a guy like two hours ago.”

“Oh,” he hadn’t even noticed. “What about the guy and the drink?” Eliott clenches his jaw and looks around expecting him to show up.

Lucas giggles again, and the sound makes Eliott’s heart flutter - it flutters then stops at what he says next.

“Don’t worry, Demaury, no one is coming between our eventual marriage.”

Eliott trips on a bump in the sidewalk and Lucas falls into his side. 

And just like that, he’s back at the lake again – the sting of a moment there and gone – and he’s sinking deeper and deeper.

3.

Everything seems to happen by accident ever since the night on the balcony. 

Eliott hadn’t even planned on going back to Lucas’ flat, but after the party was shut down prematurely, Lucas asked if he wanted to come inside for another beer. And it’s not like Eliott had the heart to say no. He definitely didn’t plan to stay this late, but he also doesn’t want to leave.

“I thought you said you were going to lay off the weed now that you’re ‘taking your studies seriously.’” Eliott grins as he watches Lucas light the joint hanging from his lips. 

“I don’t remember saying that,” says Lucas, leaning his head back on the couch and releasing smoke from his lips. 

His pursed lips carve out the hollows of his cheekbones and plants a rather dirty image in Eliott’s mind. The movement also makes his hair bounce a little; it’s messy and fluffy from when he shrugged his hoodie off when they came inside. Eliott has to busy his hands with the frayed edge of his jeans so as to not reach out and touch.

Eliott pivots from his stare and instead laughs at Lucas’ nonchalance and the irony that he said that while high.

Lucas’ eyes stay closed for a moment before slowly blinking them back open. His long lashes fan over his cheeks like that of a renaissance painting as he’s bathed in a muted golden light from the kitchen. The eyes underneath them look tired, probably due to the lack of sleep that comes with the first year of university Eliott knows too well. The oceans of blue aren’t any less breathtaking, though; Eliott has to look away before he drowns in them once again.

Eliott takes a sip from the plastic cup he filled with water once it was empty of beer. He feels his heart shift and twists in his chest like it does when he looks at Lucas too long, performing a somersault when he feels the ghost of those lips on his. 

Eliott’s words just slip out, his mumbling echoes in the plastic pressed to his lips. “Yeah, you don’t remember a lot of things.” 

It’s almost quiet enough that he could have gotten away with it, but not quite. He can tell he’s been caught by the furrow of Lucas’ brow and the confused tilt of his head - which is way more endearing than it should be.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas’ voice cracks slightly when he asks, those oceans looking like high tide. Eliott’s heart drops to his stomach at the question. Does he tell him, or does he keep that kiss locked away as the secret they didn’t know they were keeping?

Lucas slowly wets his lips and worries one between his teeth in anticipation. It’s like a knife to Eliott’s gut, piercing through his heart where it rests there. 

Eliott scrambles for an answer, panicking and lacking the courage to tell the truth. “I mean maybe this is all going to your head.” He makes a vague gesture to the smoke wafting the air between them. Not like he meant anything else.

Lucas takes a page out of his book and gives him a one-shouldered shrug before sitting up and putting out the joint in the ashtray on the coffee table. He takes a moment like he’s trying to decide his next move, then gets up and runs a hand through his hair. God, that hair.

He goes to the kitchen and cleans up, leaving Eliott to sit in the awkward space he left. Eliott takes his phone out of his pocket and checks his notifications, noticing it’s already almost 4am. As in, no buses back to his place at this hour.

“Maybe you’re right. I’m super tired so,” Lucas turns his body in the direction of his bedroom indicating he’s going to turn in.

“Yeah, um,�� is all Eliott can find in response, shifting on the couch to settle into a position for sleep.

“Come on, Eliott, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“No, it’s fine—”

“You’re literally too tall and don’t even fit on that couch. Come on,” Lucas insists, cracking a smile.

And what is he supposed to do, deny him? 

So they fall asleep in Lucas’ bed — without bringing up the kiss. Eliott doesn’t know how much longer he can breathe under the pressure. 

+1

Eliott startles awake with Lucas too close for comfort; they’re facing each other in the middle of the bed even though there’s plenty of room on either side.

Lucas is wearing an expression he’s never seen before, although he never seems to be able to read him these days. Eliott wants to ask about it, but gets lost in those eyes again, looking tired but somehow refreshed like he’s been awake for a while.

And Lucas does that thing again, bringing up what he’s thinking without fail.

“We’re okay, right?” Lucas asks softly, like the words burn on his tongue as he says them.

Eliott studies his face again, an openness to it that wasn’t there before – like he wants to talk about it seriously this time, no more dancing around.

“Yeah, of course,” he takes a breath and lowers his tone, matching the sincerity of Lucas’, “Why wouldn’t we be?”

 Lucas twists his mouth and answers, “I just, I feel like things have been weird between us since Mika’s half-birthday. Is there— did I do something?”

And do something he did - he brought up their wedding talk on the way home and basically confirmed he remembers that night at Emma’s, and maybe the kiss. But Eliott can’t find it in him to ask, but can’t stand not asking any longer.

Lucas looks expectant now, an adorable wrinkle forms on his forehead and those eyes are crystal clear. If it’s his eyes that pull him in, it’s his lips that pull him under.

Eliott removes his hand from under his pillow and slowly raises it near Lucas’ face resting in front of him. Eliott’s gaze is drawn to those lips again, the ones he can’t ever seem to stop thinking about in the phantom touch from months ago. Lucas’ tongue peeks out to wet them followed by teeth trapping one, which makes Eliott sink further. 

His hand tenderly brushes Lucas’ rosy cheek and thumb rests near the corner of his mouth, the touch causing Lucas’ breath to hitch and release the pillowy flesh from his teeth.

Eliott quickly looks up at Lucas again, only to find the other boy’s eyes trained on Eliott’s lips now. It’s enough confirmation Eliott needs to do what he’s been wanting to since the day at the lake. And he doesn’t want to swim around it anymore, it’s finally time to reveal the truth.

He delicately strokes his thumb over Lucas’ red bitten bottom lip. “You really don’t remember?” 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Lucas speechless before, at least not like this. Perhaps absentmindedly Eliott strokes his lips again, and it’s the closest thing to a kiss he’s had since the one on the balcony. It’s too much and not enough, and also the closest placebo to the real thing.

Eliott suddenly gets nervous that Lucas has no idea what he’s talking about, and that the breath caught in the other boy’s throat is not a sign of remembrance but of surprise to the incredibly intimate touch without the context of that night.

He hopes he hasn’t misread Lucas’ mind, for that would be the first time they’ve been on different wavelengths in years. Sure this whole fiasco was push and pull of avoiding the truth, but there was always some unspoken understanding present even so. Eliott feels he’s in too deep and Lucas is just floating, too much darkness and pressure between them. 

Eliott retracts his hand like he’s caught flame, silently begging for forgiveness as he meets Lucas’ eyes again. 

And this time it’s Eliott who can’t breathe. Lucas inches even closer, eyes flicking back down to Eliott’s lips once more. He whispers hotly in the limited space between their lips. “Make me remember.”

After days and weeks and months of waiting, dying, drowning, Eliott gets his fix as Lucas presses his sinful lips in a kiss – a completely and intentionally purposeful kiss. A kiss that pulls Eliott up so quickly he gets the bends, muscles and bones aching from the speed of his ascent, head and heart feeling lighter than ever.

“Lucas—” Eliott sighs, everything this means dawning on him.

“I know. Me too,” Lucas interrupts before locking Eliott’s lips again.

They indulge in the taste of each other with nothing to hold them down, eager and wanting like all kisses should be. He’ll never have to refill the script for placebo ever again, too busy getting high on the real thing.

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Really, that Weasel? pt. 2 Spencer Reid x reader

You couldn’t help but notice the fact that Spence hadn’t been answering your calls.  You didn’t want to call too much to the point that it seemed obsessive so you chalked it up to him being busy on a case.  I mean god knows you get caught up in cases so much that you can’t answer your phone every time he called.  You were finishing up with a case, you and your brothers had finished chasing down a ghost in a haunted hotel that was killing off the visitors.  Your brothers, Dean and Sam Winchester, came back into the Impala.  Dean was of course huffing and mumbling about how the owner of the hotel was a “real pain in the ass” and the least he could’ve said was “thank you because we saved his ass tonight”.  Holding back a giggle you shuffled in the back seat to lean forward, “Hey, can you guys drop me off at my apartment, Spence isn’t answering and I’m starting to get worried.”  Dean’s brow creased as he turned to look at you, “That weasel, maybe he realized how much of a dick you can be sometimes…”  “Hey, I’m the one who has to deal with you being a dick.” you retorted hitting his head playfully as you gave him puppy eyes.  “Okay, okay kid you don’t gotta give me the sad eyes.”  Sam chuckled in the passenger seat looking over at his brother,  “Kid’s got a point about you being a dick though.”  “Hey, hey… I already have demons riding my ass give me a break.”  Exchanging looks with Sam you giggled, “I’ll make pie if you can get me there by 6pm.”  “Oh, it’s on, be ready to pay up with pie.”  Dean said making a show of rolling up his sleeves and pretending to rev his car up.  You woke later to the sound of someone calling your name, “Y/n, y/n wake up.”  Fluttering your eyes, you looked up to be greeted by Dean’s green eyes laced with slight concern.  “Maybe we should seriously stop bringing you on these trips, you have a life here y/n.”  Groaning you shifted in the seat, getting out of the car, “Hey, I’ve been losing sleep even while in my apartment.  My life is with you two no matter how much you guys may be a living pain in my ass.”  Dean’s eyes crinkled softly in the corners as he shut the door, “Yeah, well I’m always going to be a pain in your ass...oh and I’ll be a pain in the ass for that weasel.”  His voice lowered slightly as he muttered, “Punk thinks he can date my little sister.”  “His name is Spencer, you could at least learn his name I’m gonna be with him for a good while.”  You shoved his shoulder softly, “You just can’t get over how he kicked your ass in poker.”  “He did so not kick my ass y/n.”  Rolling your eyes you caught up with Sam to your apartment door, opening it with your keys.  Checking your clock you realized it was just a little past 6, “Guess I owe you that pie huh?” you muttered, hoping Dean wouldn’t remember.  “Damn right you do, now pay up kid.”  Grumbling you made your way to the kitchen and decided that since you were making pie you could at least make some dinner to feed your brothers.  God knows Sam would appreciate some actually cooked food that wasn’t a patty flowing with grease.  You decided to make some chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, and obviously with a side of pie.  Dean was already making his way over to the table laden with food, “Have I told you that I love you?”  He said, grabbing a plate and loading the dish to the point you were surprised it wasn’t overflowing.  “Ugh whatever just get your food you butt and get out the way your blocking me.”  “Hey, I drove.” Dean retorted to which you mocked, “Hey, I cooked and this is my apartment.”  Scoffing he put more food on the plate, “Hey, Sam better get out here before Dean eats everything!” you called out to Sam who was in your guest room doing some more research on whatever he could get his hands on.  “Yeah, Sammy what she said!”  Sam shuffled out the room hurrying to get food, “Did you forget that I was here too?” he asked.  “First come first served Sammy, I can’t help ya.” you said, smirking as you handed him your plate as a gesture of peace.  Sam accepted it, following Dean to sit at your dining table.  As you were eating and possibly on the verge of a food fight a knock resounded at your door.  Dean and Sams’ body language immediately changed to a protective one as they came to stand in front of you, Dean’s hand laying over the gun in his pocket.  “Who is it?” you asked, going over to the door to look out the hole.  Spence stood outside, “Just me y/n.”  he said, his eyes seemed slightly sunken in due to the dark circles.  “Spence.” you mouthed, motioning for your two brothers to calm down.  They sat back down, body language relaxing slightly as they went back to shoveling food.  “Come in, Spence.  My brothers are here.” you warned jokingly as you opened the door.  Spence’s face looked deadly serious as he didn’t even smile at your joke.  “We need to talk about something.” he said, looking straight at you,  “Ummmm okay about what?” you asked.  “Maybe somewhere not in front of your brothers?” he asked quietly, motioning to the audience watching you from the corners of their eyes.  Huffing softly you nodded, grabbing his hand to lead him to the bedroom.  “Don’t even think about trying to spy on us and listen, both of you or I swear to God I’ll give you both a new nose.”  you warned, giving them soft glares to enforce your point before closing the door.  “What’d you wanna talk about Spence?” you questioned heading over to your bed and motioning for him to follow.  He stayed standing, looking at you cautiously, “Is y/n even your real name?  Or what, should I call you Ashley instead?” he asked, sliding one of your fake id cards towards you.  A look of horror spread across your face as you looked up, your tongue suddenly felt as if you had never learned how to form words,  “S-Spence I promise I can explain...well not really it’s something you have to see to understand or you’d think I’m crazy.”  “See what?  That you’re literally a criminal?”  He pulled out a box from his bag, dumping the continents out on the bed, “I mean seriously, you have more weapons than I’ve ever owned.”  The gun and assortment of knives you had displayed on your bed set your stomach to feel as if it was coming up to your throat.  Throat feeling dry you looked up at his eyes, distant and cold, “Did you tell…”  He cut you off before letting you finish your question, “I haven’t told the team yet although I could’ve easily gotten Garcia to do a check on you I didn’t because I wanted to hear it from your mouth first.  The honest truth y/n who are you?”  Your heart raced a thousand miles an hour, the blood rushing to your ears, “Okay, first yes my name is really y/n I never lied to you about that.  I never lied to you about anything besides my job and no I’m not a criminal, I save lives just like you Spence just not in the same way.”  Spence looked down at the floor before meeting your eyes again, “Were your feelings real?  Or was it just another persona?”  Hurt stabbed your heart at his words, “Of course my feelings were real, they always were I never pretended.”  You reached for his hand but instead met air as he pulled away, standing further from you than he ever had.  You suppressed the hurt from your face, “I’m what you’d call a hunter, Spence.  I...well me and my brothers… we hunt monsters, Spence.  Real monsters, not the boogieman or some made-up shit, we hunt real-life ghosts, demons, I mean hell my brother literally went to hell once to save the world.”  looking up to meet his eyes, “I mean...you probably wouldn’t even be standing here if it wasn’t for us…”  A dry laugh escaped your lips, “I mean we’ve literally saved the world multiple times.”  Spencer looked towards you a look of concern lacing his features, “So...you’re delusional?”  You looked up at him, you could almost see the gears in his brain trying to process your words, “I know.  It all sounds like crazy talk, you’d have to have a werewolf trying to rip your throat out to really believe it.”  Spence seemed to have a fight within himself, trying to decide if he should back away or comfort you.  He came over, “Y/n, I know how this is.  You’ve been under a lot of stress, I know people I can help...”  Cutting him off, you held your hand up, “Save the speech Spence, I‘m not crazy, I’m not one of your unsubs so don’t profile me.  If you don’t believe me then just leave, this isn’t something I can convince people about, especially not someone so logical and reasonable as you.”  Spence stood up, “I...I need time to think y/n.”  Spence looked torn as he walked out the door, hearing the front door slam you held your breath, trying not to cry and attract your brothers’ attention.  “Did that little shit just...leave you?”  Dean asked, anger broiling in his features.  Shoulders shaking you formed words with your mouth but nothing came out, “No, Dean look…” Sam said, his gaze shifting to your bed, strewn with weapons and fake ids.  “He knows…?” Sam asked, nodding you inhaled air, feeling as if your lungs were burning from the inside.  Dean’s face reddened clearly ready to chase Spencer down and give him a good beating for hurting his kid sister.  “Don’t” you warned, knowing what was going through his head, “He doesn’t believe me...he thinks I’m delusional.”  His features softened, slightly, moving to sit next to you as Sam took the other side.  “Hey, he doesn’t understand.  Most people won’t unless the evidence is right in front of them and it’s too late.”  Nodding you leaned into his side as he swept your hair from your face, “I know I can’t give him a beating but the least you could do is stop crying over him.”  he mumbled softly.  You laughed softly, “I...I can’t, I think...no I know I loved him Dean.”  Sam leaned over wrapping his arms around you, the scent of his cologne and the scent of forest surrounded you comfortingly.  “I know, y/n.  Maybe he’ll come around but if not you gotta cut off your losses you know?”  He ruffled your hair softly, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

  The comforting silence, after half an hour, was cut off as your phone rang, “Hello, y/n.” sang a voice that sounded gravelly, “Why don’t you turn that frown upside down, sweetheart.”  The voice sent chills down your spine involuntarily.  “Looking for something?  Perhaps your boy toy, Dr. Spencer Reid?”  Clenching your fist, you felt your nails digging into the flesh of your palm, “Who are you?”  “That’s for you to figure out sweetheart, you’re a…” He whispered the last part, “..hunter, right?  Looks like pretty boy doesn’t even know that he’s dating one of the infamous Winchesters.”  The phone line clicked, leaving you with the words ringing in your head, running the gears in your head, who would know Spence but also know hunters.  Gasping you said, “Spencer’s been kidnapped, by the Bloodsucker...I think.  That’s what the news had been calling him I didn’t think he’d actually be...yknow a bloodsucker.”  Sam’s head jolted up, “The bodies that were showing up with bite marks in their necks with the blood drained?”  “Yeah, Spence told me about the killings, his team was working to catch the guy.”  “Well, let’s go stick one up that bloodsucker.” Dean said, reaching for his jacket as he grabbed the keys to his Impala.  “Spence told me about a place that his team thinks the vamp was using as his hideout.  We should head there first.”  Sam nodded, getting the address from you to give directions to Dean.  Sitting in the backseat, you kneaded your palms together, anxious as to what was happening to Spence.  Once arrived Dean opened the trunk of his car, handing both you and Sam machetes then grabbing his own.  You reached in and grabbed a small handgun, “You never know.” you said, responding to the look that Dean had given you.  “I want you staying with Sam alright?”  “I’m not a kid.  We’ll cover more ground if we each separate.”  you argued back, looking to Sam for backup.  Sam grabbed your shoulder instead, giving you a look that clearly said he agreed with Dean on this one.  Huffing you nodded, knowing that arguing wouldn’t get you anywhere with Dean when it came to your safety.  The building was an old abandoned office, clearly, it had not been used in years you gathered from the molding smell of the building.  Going up a flight of stairs, the only thing you could hear besides your heart hammering were the soft creaks of the old stairs, not used to holding weight in the years it hadn’t been used.  Sam looked into a room, motioning over his shoulder for you to follow.  In the room sat Spencer, tied up to a chair, his wrists so tightly tied that you could see the indents the ropes were making, cutting off circulation.  “Spence.” you whispered, looking around before heading towards the chair as Sam watched your back, “Hey...don’t worry.  I’ve got you.” you murmured over and over, more for yourself than Spence due to his mostly unconscious state.  His eyes fluttered tiredly, lips dry and cracked, as his hand involuntarily tried to move away.  “Stop.  He’s here.” his voice croaked, as you reassured his touch,  “He’s...he’s not human.  I…”  Cutting him off you softly whispered, “I know, Spence.  He’s a vampire, a real bloodsucker and a pain in the ass.”  Cutting the ties, you let him lean most of his weight on you, before hearing a loud crash from the other room.  You struggled between running towards the sound and holding Spence up, “Go...I’ll still be here.” he replied dryly, a soft smile appearing on his lips.  Running to the sound you saw Sam lying on the ground, groaning from impacting the wall.  Footsteps resounded behind you before you heard a loud thud, the sound of a body falling.  The vamp’s head rolled to your feet as you saw Dean holding his blood-soaked machete, “Figured you two would be in some sort of trouble without me.  Where’s your weasel?”  “Shut it, and he’s in the other room.  Grab Sammy will you?”  Dean helped Sam up as they walked behind you, grabbing Spence you headed back to the Impala.  You arrived at your apartment, letting Spencer rest in your bed from the night's activities, “So, you two are heading back on the road now?” you asked looking up at your two brothers.  “Yeah, we’ve got more cases to hunt and with saving the world and all we can’t stay here.”  “Don’t let the whole saving the world thing give you a big head, it’s already as big as it can be, Deanie.”  you retorted, punching his shoulder, “Hey, my head is normally sized.  Some might say it’s very attractive.”  Hugging him, in front of the Impala, “You guys will visit again, right?  Call me sometime whenever you need help, I’m always free for you two.”  Dean nodded, “You too, kid.  Just because you’re grown or whatever doesn’t mean you can’t call us.  Got it?”  Sam smiled softly, eyes creasing gently, “What he said.  We love you y/n.  Take care.” he leaned down and pulled you up into a hug, feet slightly dangling from the ground.  “Okay, okay you big oaf.  You’ll break my spine if you squeeze any harder.”  Sam’s chest vibrated against your shoulders as he sat you back down to the ground, “Seriously, call whenever we’ll come racing.”  Ruffling your hair one last time they got into the car, the engine revving up as they drove away.  Heading back up to the apartment you saw Spence sitting up on the couch, “Hey.” you said softly, rubbing the back of your neck.  “Hey.” he replied, lips quirking up slightly, “So, I guess you weren’t kidding about the monster thing.  You saved my life.”  “I’ll always save your life Spence. It’s okay to be the one who needs saving, especially when it comes to the supernatural, me and my brothers are kind of experts at not dying...well at least not staying dead” you said, smirking slightly, “We’ve literally escaped death several times.”  Spence chuckled slightly his arms opening for a hug, “Guess I wasn’t the only one who saved lives, huh, Agent Todd.” he joked, using one of your fake FBI badge names.  “Oh shut it, Dr. Reid.”  His hand squeezed your shoulder, goosebumps rising in the places his warm breath touched on your neck, “I love you y/n.  Sorry I didn’t…”  You cut him off once again, “I love you too, Spence.”, placing a kiss on his lips, you proceeded to place a kiss on other parts of his face,  “If you’re sorry, why don’t you show me how much you love me.  I did just save your life, Dr. Reid.”  chuckling Spence replied,  “Roger that, Agent Todd.”

[aurora-nuova]

Rude Love

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Naruto  

Universe: Modern AU

Relationships:

Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara (main)

Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito (side)

Characters: Senju Tobirama, Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna, Senju Hashirama, Senju Itama, Uzumaki Mito

@madatobiweek Week 4: There was only one bed OR Not realizing they are already dating

Summary: 

Summer sun, cool waves, a beautiful beach. Nothing could go wrong on this long awaited, blessed holiday to the sea, right? W r o n g!

Madara should’ve just pushed his best friend off of that cliff they had been playing on as kids when he had the chance.

Read on AO3

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Chapter 01: Something new

Madara startled awake with a curse on his lips when a cheering Hashirama‘s elbow hit the pillow his head had been resting upon but momentarily got distracted by a female speaker announcement.

“—and gentleman, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position and your seatbelt is securely fastened—”

Ah, apparently it was time for their airplane to land. And surely, looking out of the window confirmed it as no clouds were greeting him. Instead, the ground was rapidly closing in on them. 

Turning his head away from the window, he threw Mito—who was sitting on Hashirama‘s right— a tired but bemused look that she promptly returned when her husband started making quiet hooting noises at the bumpy arrival at their destination.

What a child, he thought fondly as he acknowledged a warm feeling making its way through his body. Though such mushy thoughts were only allowed in the privacy of his mind and were never to be discussed out loud or lest he got made fun of by Izuna or his other siblings.

Looking at his best friend, he sometimes wished he had half as much, well, or maybe only a third of his positivity. At least on his good days.

Though, on second thought, it sounded rather exhausting.

Maybe his slightly more realistic approach to life wasn‘t so bad after all, he mused as said best friend turned around to him with a beaming smile, not even having noticed that he had been the cause of his interrupted sleep in his glee. Returning a sleepy smile, he realized that Hashirama probably was positive enough for both of them. Or rather both of their close families, if he were to be honest.

It still amused him to this day that no sane person would expect this child of a man to be a renowned paediatrician but sometimes people were apparently wrong. Very wrong.

Because jokes aside, fortunately, Hashirama indeed could be serious when his patients and their parents trusted him with the children’s life. And doing so, he tended to them with unmatched enthusiasm and passion.

So all was good, he guessed.

Stretching his stiff muscles through a yawn, he noticed familiar tresses of long, dark hair sticking out from between the gap in the seats in front of him. Zeroing in on it with a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he nimbly stuck his hand through the gap to pull one of the bigger chunks of hair, only to immediately receive a satisfyingly high pitched yelp.

“OUCH! You ass!” Izuna screeched turning his head back around to him and hastily reclaimed all of his hair with a scowl, making Madara huff in amusement.

“Oh please, stop being such a drama quee-” the older of the two started retorting when suddenly his younger brother turned around in his seat somewhat—seatbelt still fastened, making the endeavour pretty awkward looking as he smushed his face between the backrests to make a grab for Madara’s own hair.

“No!” he groused out, leaning away from the squiggly hand. “Stop!”

“Payback‘s a bitch, Nii-san!” the younger Uchiha snarked back, voice muffled by the seat and continued to make grabs for his hair that Madara defended by slapping his grabby hands away.

“Children, please,” Mito‘s exasperated voice suddenly broke through their argument, making both of them stop—Madara crossing his arms while Izuna turned back around and untangled himself from the space between the two seats, arm almost getting stuck in the process.

“I‘m not a child, he is!” Izuna grumbled out as he was facing the right way again, missing the red head‘s amused but quiet laugh.

Wondering why the biggest child of them all hadn‘t joined them in their squabbling and actually kept quiet for once, the Uchiha looked back at Hashirama, noticing that he too had an arm moving, but in the right gap between the seats in front of himself. The Uchiha made a confused sound and nudged the taller man who then looked at him with a questioning smile.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to wake up Tobi and Itama, I saw them asleep when I left for the bathroom a few minutes ago,” the brunette answered with a sunny smile as the Uchiha hummed in acknowledgement as people around them started to get their luggage from the overhead stowage spaces to leave the plane.

Finally exiting the airport‘s sliding doors with their heavy luggage to walk into a metaphorical wall of humidity as the sun tried to roast them alive only made Madara close his eyes in misery. The heat was so much worse than he had anticipated.

Great

To be completely honest, he hadn‘t even wanted to come here in the first place, would have instead preferred a milder, more enjoyable weather for his long-awaited vacation but unfortunately, he had lost in the poll their two families had held to determine what this trip‘s destination would be as everyone except Itama and him had voted for this dreaded hot climate as their travel destination.

Surprisingly even Tobirama—currently dressed in long pants with a long-sleeved sweatshirt‘s hood and a pair of sunglasses covering his face—had wanted to come here.

Whatever, he would make the best of this holiday.

As it was, unfortunately, not all of their siblings had been able to come with them due to scheduling difficulties. However, they had already agreed on another trip in winter when hopefully their schedules would align a bit more smoothly with much more desirable weather, at least for him.

He already looked forward to it.

Something he could live without though, was the planning and scheduling part as arranging things for the six of them had been a logistical nightmare already. What with Itama having to hand his last thesis in the day before while Izuna and Tobirama respectively had to write their exams a few hours before their flight took off.

He himself probably wouldn’t even have been able to take time off on such short notice if his position at work as detective hadn‘t been so high and he himself and his good reputation hadn’t been so well regarded amongst their ranks and—no, he was joking. In reality he still had a few open favours with his boss and promptly used one of them to be able to be here with his family and friends when Hashirama had texted him the booking confirmation.

His boss obviously hadn‘t been too happy. But after Madara had helped out countless of times, sacrificing his free time again and again when needed, raked in so many extra hours, that he had accumulated a lot of those favours. And just to be on the safe side, had tied all loose ends at work in preparation which thankfully had swayed the man to agree in the end.

The Uchiha briefly wondered how Obito and his fellow colleagues were doing before Izuna chatting him up caught his attention.

Next thing he knew, they were leaving their rented cars parked outside an Italian restaurant and taking their seats around a big but crammed table as Hashirama had rejected the friendly personnel’s offer to push two tables together because apparently he wanted to cuddle in this inhumane heat or who knew why tree brain hadn‘t wanted the second table because Madara for sure didn‘t.

Smushed between Izuna and Hashirama, he could already feel the sweat run down his back as he pushed his sunglasses atop his head, tangling up a few strands of hair that he couldn’t care less about at the moment in the process.

“Get anything you want, it‘s on me to celebrate the end of the semester for our three youngest and of course, the start of our amazing holidays together!“ his best friend exclaimed when everyone had received their beverages and toasted all of them, resulting in clinking of glass and various intonations of gratitude amongst them.

After Madara downed his glass in one go and lowered it back on the table with a loud clink, he rummaged through his pockets to find a godforsaken hair tie. His hair was already uncomfortably sticking to the back of his neck. Frowning, he gave up when he came up empty.

Hashirama probably didn‘t have one on hand, as he only tied it for work and Mito used hair pins, which left him with only Izuna who was typing away on one of his social media accounts. Leaning over, he saw a snapshot out of the airplane window.

“Pretty picture.”

Izuna immediately shot him a dubious look.

“Okay. What do you want?” his younger brother asked with an expectant look on his face.

“Can‘t I compliment you without wanting anything?” he asked bemused.

“Oh please,” the other huffed out.

“Alright, whatever. Do you have a hair tie?”

Izuna took a terribly amused look at his horribly mussed up hair. The stupid humidity wasn‘t doing the older Uchiha any favours, making his usually wild hair poof up and stick out in an even crazier mess than usual. He was well aware but the brat didn‘t even try to stifle his derisive snort.

“Yes, but know that this will cost you a third of your dessert,” the little shit haughtily replied as he took a tie out of a bag between them.

“A fifth and you have yourself a deal,” Madara huffed, holding his hand out.

“A fourth and you have to order something I actually like,” Izuna countered, holding out the desired hair tie just out of reach.

“Deal,” he heaved out with a heavy sigh, accepting the cargo and tying up his hair into a messy ponytail, immediate relief flooding him, as the slightly less warm air of the ceiling fan caressed the back of his neck. Much better.

Madara shot his greedy brother and his mostly immaculate hair an annoyed look, when the other happily turned back to continue typing away on his smartphone.

He would need to steal whatever the little shit had used to wrestle his own mane into submission out of his luggage and use it on his hair tomorrow when the other inevitably would still be snoozing away the morning, since he liked to sleep in.

They had the same hair structure, after all, but he wasn‘t willing to pay the unreasonably high price his sibling surely would come up with as soon as he asked him about the product he must‘ve been using to tame their family brand of crazy hair.

Under no circumstances would he walk around like some caveman after today, though.

Right now everyone was still tired and mussed up from their flight, even elegant Mito, so his crazier than usual hair wouldn‘t be noticed too badly.

But starting tomorrow, that excuse wouldn‘t fly anymore, as everyone would attempt to look presentable for the undoubtedly many pictures Hashirama and Izuna would take in the span of their holidays. And seriously, latter didn‘t need even more blackmailing material, as he already had more than enough of that stowed away already.

But more importantly, tomorrow Tobirama wouldn‘t be so exhausted anymore that his head would look like it was ready to loll onto the table.

Seriously, the poor guy looked ready to fall off the chair any minute if it weren‘t for Itama on his left, holding him up in an embrace while happily chatting with him and Izuna squished in on his right, forcing him into a somewhat upright position.

The younger Senju seemed way too tired to even notice much today, belatedly reacting to any verbal or physical stimuli as far as he had seen.

In fact, the exhausted albino probably couldn’t wait until they finished their food and finally drove to the hotel so he could catch up on all of that lost sleep tonight. However, that also meant that the albino‘s sharp eyes would be scrutinizing and analyzing everyone and everything starting with tomorrow, so he needed to look presentable if not a bit nicer than usual at least.

Feeling eyes bore into the side of his head, he inwardly startled at being caught staring, as his eyes slid back over to Izuna who was wiggling his eyebrows and pursing his lips at him in an imitation of a kiss.

“Shut up!” he quietly hissed and shoved at him, hoping no one had noticed the idiot.

“But I‘m not saying anything!” the brat cackled, as he bumped into an unresponsive Tobirama next to him, subsequently rattling Itama who shot them a quick bemused but confused look.

“Just stop it, you ass,” he grumbled out, refraining from hitting his younger brother upside the head to avoid any additional spotlight from the chatting couple by his side to keep the cause of the start of the situation under wraps.

There was no need for Izuna to spout lies about him ogling the light haired man like he had a crush on him or something similarly stupid. Definitely lies. Shut up.

He avoided looking in the albino‘s direction for the rest of their duration at the restaurant, even when Izuna stole more than a fourth of his dessert.

But apparently things were still going too smoothly and the universe wanted to punish him for whatever sins he had accumulated over his life at once because right before they entered their hotel to check in, Hashirama abruptly planted his feet on the searing hot concrete under a palm tree and waved them over.

Oh god, what would this be about?

Judging by the massive grin on his face, it couldn‘t be anything good.

When everyone was situated around him, Hashirama clapped his hands.

“Alright, since we always, well, almost! Since we almost always do the same room distributions, I came up with an idea this time,” he revealed giddily.

“Wait, what?” Madara exclaimed confused as the taller man started rummaging in his pant pocket.

“We‘re drawing straws!“ the idiot exclaimed joyously as he held out a fist of sticks, receiving mixed reactions from everyone around him.

“Please tell me you‘re not serious?“ the oldest Uchiha replied with a sinking feeling.

“Why not?“

“Mito, your wife, is the only female in this group?“ he tried reasoning to no avail.

“Oh yes, that‘s why we‘re sharing a room!“ the stupid tree answered him cheerfully.

And it was that moment that Madara actually took a look at the sticks in his hand and noticed that there were only four of them. Opening his mouth, Hashirama immediately interrupted him.

“Because we booked on such short notice, they only had one room with two single beds, the other two are double beds. Mito and I will take one of those but there‘s still the question of who will get the other two rooms each,“ the older Senju explained with a smile.

“Still, it doesn‘t make any sense why we should draw lots in the first place. I don’t care in what kind of bed I sleep in with Izuna,“ Madara said scowling as he crossed his arms.

“But Itama and Izuna want to try something new and right now you’re the only one not agreeing,” the brunette said pouting.

“You didn’t even give me a heads up— Wait, what? Since when does snowflake agree to your stupid ideas?” he asked, throwing the two Senju brothers in question a confused look. One of them half asleep and not even listening, the other one pouting down at him.

After all, out of the siblings Tobirama was the only one stopping Hashirama’s mischief on a daily basis when things looked like they would get out of hand while the two younger ones loved to indulge in their eldest brother’s silly antics.

“Anija asked him on our way to the airport,” Itama helpfully supplied, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Do you really think that‘s fair? Snowflake has been closer to a walking zombie than a human being!“ he groused out, scowl intensifying.

Tobirama very belatedly pursed his lips in a pout and softly furrowed his brows but didn‘t react any further, making the older Uchiha feel all sorts of fuzzy and mushy things. God no. Trying to not show any emotion besides annoyance on his face was getting harder by the second.

“No offence, but that’s a very underhanded tactic for you, Hashirama. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days,” the older Uchiha accused to hammer in his point.

“But that’s the only way he agreed for once,” the older man admitted with a chuckle.

He zeroed in on Izuna when he too chuckled.

“And since when do you like trying out new things?” Madara accused his sibling.

“Excuse you! I try new things all the time and you would know that if you followed my social media accounts like you said you would!” the younger Uchiha answered scandalized with furrowed brows.

The older Uchiha groaned. Not this again.

“Is it too much to want some fun on this vacation?” Hashirama asked with one of his better renditions of a puppy look directed at him while Tobirama slinked off to sit down next to Mito on a bench not far from them.

Huffing, he shuffled his feet, looking around and tried to think of a way out of this.

Izuna would be his best bet of course. But if he had to share a room with Itama, things would probably get awkward pretty fast as they never had spent time on their own until now. However, Tobirama would be an even worse pick. Not because he had anything against the younger man but because of other things that he didn’t want to think about at the moment.

No, he wouldn’t play Hashirama’s stupid games this time. Why should he? Especially when his idiotic friend easily had taken himself out of the equation. Unfair. He was here to relax and enjoy himself.

Having decided against his best friend’s plea, he looked back to said friend only to freeze at the triumphant look on his face.

Oh no.

“What?”

“Have you forgotten? You owe me!” the idiot exclaimed with a wry grin.

Now it was his turn to furrow his eyebrows in incomprehension.

“You lost that bet at our last poker evening weeks ago,” the tan man replied giddily.

Madara’s eyes widened. He was right but he wouldn’t, would he?

“Are you seriously going to waste it on something like that? Hashirama, you wouldn’t, right?” he asked, rubbing his forehead to soothe his growing headache with a grimace.

He knew he was doomed, when three grinning faces met his.

“I absolutely would and I am henceforth officially claiming the favour you owe me!” the childish tree trunk of a man exclaimed laughing in glee, hands on his hips.

Suppressing another groan, Madara felt more sweat trickle down his back. Honestly, he could’ve done worse, he guessed. Hashirama could’ve used the favour to send him off to do much more horrible or embarrassing things. This was absolutely not ideal but whatever. What were the odds of him having to share a room with Tobirama, after all? Two to one against it, not bad at all. And he surely could make it work with Itama, too.

Being already fed up with the situation and the sun searing what felt like holes into his back, he decided that he didn’t care anymore as long as they could go inside soon. Preferably right this instant.

“Fine,” he conceded defeated, receiving surprised looks at his unusually short lived refusal and hooting from Hashirama.

“Alright, youngest first! There’s two short and two long ones,” the excited man exclaimed, holding out his hand with the sticks to Itama after he had shuffled them behind his back. “Don’t reveal them until everyone has a stick!”

When it finally was Madara’s turn, he didn’t have much choice but to accept the remaining stick as the oldest of the four.

“Reveal your sticks on the count of three! One, two, three!” Hashirama exclaimed excited.

Madara blanched when all of them unfurled their fists to showcase each of their picks. Had he seriously ended up with one of the short sticks? Wait, if the other two had the two long ones, that meant that Tobirama and he—

Hashirama clapped him on the shoulder with a huff of laughter.

“Looks like you and Tobi share a room!”

“Wha—”

“Okay, now I need those back and the winner team picks one of two to decide who the winner of the room with the two single beds is,” the older Senju exclaimed.

When Itama picked the longer stick, Madara despaired internally.

How could his luck be this bad? Had he seriously just lost two times in a row? Also wasn’t the looser supposed to get to pick first and—

Wait.

Oh no.

His eyes widened and he paled even more when suddenly the realization hit him that he had to share a double bed with his cru- Tobirama for the upcoming two weeks here.

He was doomed.

Suddenly he didn’t even feel warm anymore.

[omeliaendgame]

Not a  big deal

Hey Omelia-Fans :-) Finally here is the Fanfiction about Amelia having a broken bone and Owen taking care of her. I hope you´ll like it! (Fun Fact: Amelia breaks her bone in exactly the same way as I did few years ago  ;-))

Amelia’s pager beeped. She stood up from her seat and immediately felt a sharp pain in her lower leg. That came probably from this morning, when Bailey accidentally hit her with a bocce ball while playing. She knew she should probably immobilize her leg, but she hasn’t had time after the accident, because she had to work. And now she got paged stat, so she gritted her teeth and started running. When she arrived at the trauma room, she didn’t even notice the pain anymore. „The CT shows a ruptured aneurysm. I have to operate in order to exclude major consequences.“, Amelia informed Richard. He nodded and instructed DeLuca to book an OR. The door opened and Owen stepped in. “Oh sorry. I thought this trauma room was free.”, he said and wanted to leave, but Amelia stopped him. “It is. We’re heading to the OR right now.” “Ok good. When will you come home?”, Owen asked her. “Uhm, I don’t know. The surgery won’t take too long, but I have to check on some patients and I wanted to finish some paper work after that. So probably tonight.”, Amelia replied while preparing the patient for leaving. „Okay, I‘ll see you then.“, Owen smiled and kissed her. „Yeah. See you then.“, Amelia smiled back. As she walked out, Owen could tell by her facial expression that something was wrong, but he didn’t want to ask. She would reject him anyway. But he would check on her as soon as he would finish his work.

After 90 minutes in the OR, Amelia was halfway through her surgery. The realization that she had to continue for at least one and a half hour, made her anxious, because the pain in her leg increased slowly. Normally she would enjoy the time in the OR, far away from paper work and annoying interns, but now she just wanted it to be over. She tried to focus on the patient’s brain, what worked for a a little while. But another half an hour later she couldn’t ignore the pain anymore. She couldn’t put any weight anymore on her leg, so she just lifted it up a little. Ready for the last steps, she took a deep breath and continued with her surgery. When she finally had closed the incision, she was sure that her leg would fall off within the next few minutes, so she sat down on a gurney in the hallway. „Shepherd, good to see you! Mr. Parker asked for you; you wanted to go through his treatment plan with him.“, Schmitt informed her when he passed by 20 minutes later. „Right.“, Amelia answered. „Shall I tell him you are busy now?“, Schmitt asked. „No, I‘m coming“, Amelia sighed and stood up carefully. Fortunately the pain had subsided a little, so she made it to Mr. Parker’s room and then almost to another patient, but Owen showed up. „Amelia, what’s going on?“, he asked. „What? N-nothing, I‘m fine.“, she answered, as Owen had expected. „Amelia, no joke, something‘s bothering you since this morning!“, he tried it again. She averted his gaze, but answered: „It´s not a big deal, it’s just my leg. It hurts a little.“, she played down her symptoms. „What happened?.“, Owen asked, „Let me see.“  „No, Owen, I still have to check on a patient.“, Amelia replied annoyed by his tenacity. „Come on, you can ask your resident to do that.“, Owen insisted. „Owen...“, Amelia started but didn’t know how to counter. „Fine.“, she gave in. Owen led her to a gurney and pulled up her pant leg. He revealed a blue and slightly swollen lower leg, which made also Amelia swallow. She really shouldn’t have walked around and operate without having checked up her leg. “Amelia are you kidding me?! What happened. This is clearly not nothing!”, Owen said concerned. “It happened this morning. Bailey hit me with a bocce ball. By accident.”, she admitted. Owen sighed and took a wheel chair from the nursing station. „We‘ll do an X-ray.“, he said and Amelia knew that she shouldn’t say anything, so she let him take her to the radiology.

„You have a fibular fracture. You can be lucky that your tibia isn’t broken. Or maybe not, because you would not have been able to walk around and ignore this.“, Owen told Amelia after he had gotten the results. „I‘m sorry.“, Amelia said and took the scan. „Not displaced. I don’t need surgery right?”, she asked. „No, we can leave it like this and put on a plaster. But you have to take it slow the next few weeks.“, Owen replied while grabbing the plaster material. After he had plastered Amelia’s leg and handed her crutches, Owen went taking Amelia’s bag and clothes out of her locker while Amelia was making some phone calls. “Come on, let’s go home.”, Owen said when he came back and gave Amelia her jacket. She put it on and so they headed to the car. “Tom is going to take over my surgeries. Including the resection of that giant glioma, that’s so unfair.”, Amelia complained. “Just be glad that you don’t need surgery yourself. After all, you can see your patients and finish all your paper work.”, Owen grinned, “And you can do mine, too.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you’d like that. Keep dreaming Dr. Hunt; that is not going to happen.”, Amelia answered. „You say that now, we‘ll see in a few days.“, Owen said and winked at her. „I’m not going to change my mind.“, Amelia persisted laughing, „You can do your dirty work yourself.“ „Well, it was worth a try.“, Owen shrugged his shoulders. Then they left the hospital, seeing that it was raining. Owen took an umbrella for them. „We should hurry up a little.“, he said then and began to walk faster. Amelia, who couldn’t keep up with Owen’s pace, winced, as she felt the cold raindrops on her head. „Hurrying up is kinda hard with these crutches.“, she exclaimed. „Then you‘ll become a little wet, I guess.“, Owen grinned. „I hate you, Owen Hunt.”, Amelia grumbled as she arrived at the car. “That was your punishment for ignoring your injury all day.”, Owen said, but opened her the door of the car. She got in and sighed, relieved to be protected from the rain now. “I’ll definitely not going to do that again.”

[juminsmysticmc]

RFA get into a car accident while MC is heavenly pregnant (Happy End)

I decided to write this story since it happened to my co-worker and you know that I’m a sucker for Pregnancy and Drama XD

Jumin

It was three AM when another driver other than Driver Kim picked him up.

The reason was simply that Jumin feared you could go into labor and the only one he could trust in that situation was his loyal driver.

Your husband cursed himself that he had to leave you in your last week of pregnancy, but of course it was still work.

The new driver who picked him up was supposed to be a good one, but Jumin didn’t trust him.

But he ignored his bad feeling since he simply longed for you.

But this was a mistake which almost cost him his life.

The driver fell asleep for a few seconds and crashed into the opposite side, crashing down a hill.

Luckily, no one was hurt.

Jumin really thanked god since he didn’t know how he could be still alive.

Even though he hated it, he had to call you to inform you about his whereabouts, but Jaehee was with you which made you feel better.

,,Hello, my love,“ he creaked over the phone.

,,Jumin! It’s almost four AM! Where are you staying? Why is it so loud there?“ you asked him sleepily.

,,Don’t panic, my love. I got into a car accident. I‘m okay. The car will arrive soon and I will come with the officers, but please don’t panic.“ he explained, hearing your ,,Oh my god“ and ,,No...“ several times.

,,Jumin, I just want you safe at home… please come soon...“ you began to sob. 

,,I will be there soon,“ he promised.

Indeed, half an hour later he arrived and got welcomed with a big, lovely hug, and a kick from the baby in your womb.

Zen

,,Work is so boring without you…’’ Zen mumbled as he kissed your forehead and stroked your swollen belly.

,,Awweee, I can’t wait until you have free time too,’’ you chuckled and stroked his cheek.

,,Take care, okay?’’ you asked him as you worriedly looked at the bike.

He nodded and then left.

The time at work just didn’t seem to end.

When you were still working with him those eight hours didn’t seem that long.

Finally, Zen was able to get out of work.

The white haired man was so excited, he couldn’t wait to see you.

This was a mistake. His excitement made him drive quicker which caused him to make risky decisions.

The traffic lights were still yellow. The man thought that he could still get over them before they turned red. However, he was horribly wrong.

In the next few seconds, Zen felt an impact and suddenly he only saw black.

When he woke up again he felt weird. His limbs hurt and he couldn’t move his hand.

However, when he looked at his right he could see that you were the reason.

You were still holding his hand, your face was pale and teary.

When you finally woke up too, you first scolded him and then began to cry into his shoulder.

,,I thought I had to raise the baby on my own! I thought that our child would have… oh my God, Zen!’’ you cried as he felt guilt come over himself.  

Yoosung

,,I’m leaving! If something is wrong, call me, okay?’’ he asked you and looked at the little boy next to you.

,,Make sure that you call Daddy if Mommy is feeling sick, okay? Help her out, mhm?’’ Yoosung asked his five years old son who strongly nodded.

,,Bye, Daddy! Say ,,Goodbye’’ baby,’’ you took your son’s hand and helped him to wave.

Yoosung had to chuckle as he thought about his little perfect family.

So many years passed since he met you. 

He never thought that both of you would come that far.

The light turned green and Yoosung slowly let go of the pedal and pressed his foot on the other pedal, driving quicker towards the hospital where he was a vet.

Suddenly, he heard a loud honk.

But before he could react, the big car crashed into his side and made him lose consciousness.

,,Daddy, wake up, Daddy!’’ a little boy called, who managed to wake up Yoosung.

Yoosung looked at his little son who seemed to have cried.

,,Mommy is crying in her sleep! What did you do?’’ he asked his father.

Yoosung needed a few seconds before he remembered what happened.

Slowly, the boy tried to look at you, however, his body kept throbbing in pain.

,,Gosh, you need to pay more attention,’’ you sobbed next to him as your son soundly slept on your lap.

Yoosung sadly smiled as he saw that you were stroking both your son and your big belly.

,,I thought I was dying when the police came to pick us up,’’ you told him and finally looked at him. He was safe and he was by your side. He was alive.  

Jaehee

,,Is it really okay?’’ you asked Jaehee as you patted your swollen belly.

,,Of course. We both wanted this baby and you need to go through this hardship, so everything I can do is to support you,’’ she laughed and kissed you deeply, getting a moan from you.

,,Thank you,’’ you laughed as you blushed and then saw how she entered the taxi, ready to follow your cravings.

The driver blushed a deep red as he looked into the mirror back to Jaehee.

Jaehee felt uncomfortable by the driver’s looks.

,,Mr, could you please keep your eyes on the road?’’ she asked him.

The driver looked at her one last time, however, this time he looked a bit longer at her which made him drive into the opposite side, crashing into a bigger car.

Jaehee yelled and tried to hold into something as the car finally stopped.

Jaehee tried to stay awake, but unfortunately her eyes closed.

,,Mhhhh���.’’ Jaehee groaned in pain as she tried to open her eyes, but quickly closed them again because the surroundings were so bright.

,,She’s awake! Help, someone call the doctor!’’ you cried and held her hand tighter.

,,Jaehee, I’m here, Jaehee!’’ you called her and pressed her hand on your womb.

,,You can’t die! This baby is waiting for you!’’ you hiccuped and managed to make her smile at you.

,,I won’t die. I will stay by your side, Mc… sorry for making you go through this even though you’re so heavily pregnant…’’ Jaehee mumbled and managed to kiss your hand before the doctor stepped in.

Saeyoung

,,I HATE YOU!’’ you yelled and threw a pillow at him.

,,AISH STOP IT, MC!’’ Saeyoung begged you.

Your face was red and teary.

,,Mc, please, you need to rest. You can’t get this angry over something so trivial!’’ he tried to make you calm down. 

However, his words made you get even angrier.

,,Are you kidding me?!’’ you snapped and put your hands on your belly.

,,Now you care about these two babies?! Yet you still spend all our savings on your own shit?! Saeyoung, be fucking responsible!’’ you cried out and put your hand on your face.

You couldn’t calm yourself down anymore.

Saeyoung twitched as he heard your sad sobs.

He quickly took the new computer stuff he bought and put them into the car, ready to bring them back to the shop.

You were right, he thought.

He just didn’t notice that he spent so much money on it.

And while he kept thinking how idiotic he was, he actually stopped paying attention to the road and drove into a field, crashing into a tree.

A few hours later he returned home with a paramedic and a police officer next to him.

You gasped when you saw his wounds.

If Saeran didn’t support you, you would have fainted.

,,Oh my god, Saeyoung!’’ you cried into his chest when he finally sat down.

,,Thank God, you’re okay,’’ you sobbed and held your belly.

Saeyoung didn’t let go of your hand the whole day and never stopped to tell you how dumb he was and how much he loved you.

MASTERLIST 1 MASTERLIST 2 MASTERLIST 3

27.03.2020// 22:33 MEST