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barricadebops · 4 years

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Caught in the Music

Being caught listening to love songs is embarrassing as it is, but being caught singing along to one was a whole different level of mortifying.

Dinner duty fell on Enjolras tonight as Grantaire sat holed up in their bedroom finishing an art piece for class. Softly, his music played from his phone, a playlist of musicals all put on shuffle as he cut up the vegetables Combeferre had been constantly harping on him to eat. The music changed and a familiar tune came on.

He hummed under his breath approvingly; Enjolras loved this song to pieces. He would gladly belt the lyrics out with Idina Menzel right now if he could.

Except he couldn't, because there was the issue that no one, except for Combeferre and Courfeyrac who he had known since about the time he was born, knew about his secret passion for love songs, this love song in particular. Not even Grantaire knew.

See, it wasn't that he didn't trust his boyfriend enough to let him know about his likes and interests, his strengths and weaknesses; quite the opposite really, considering Grantaire was very supportive of who he was and he was supportive of Grantaire in return. And it wasn't that he was trying to keep up that marble facade those who weren't his friends knew him to have either; they all, Grantaire especially, already knew of his cuddler tendencies (or, at least cuddly with his friends- if you were a stranger and you touched him, you died, often by his own hand, often by Grantaire's.) It was none of that.

It was just that he found it rather embarrassing that he should have such an affinity for love songs while Grantaire had what he thought was much more complex and deeper tastes in a wide variety of genres of music. If he were to hear him sing about the burning passions of love, Grantaire would likely laugh. Such behaviour was expected more from Jehan or Marius, romantics seemingly born in the wrong century.

So Enjolras contented himself to sing along quietly under his breath as he focused on slicing up the carrots in front of him.

"Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight. I need help believing you're with me tonight."

He moved onto cutting up the zucchini, lost away far too much in a world of green and music to notice the door to their room crack open.

"My wildest dreamings could not foresee lying beside you, with you wanting me."

The music began to build up, and unconsciously, so did Enjolras' voice.

"And just for this moment, as long as you're mine, I've lost all resistance, and crossed some borderline. And if it turns out it's over too fast, I'll make every last moment last. As long as you're mine."

He hummed along to the music that led up to Fiyero's part when his heart jumped in his throat and he nearly let out a scream of surprise. A pair of arms encircled his waist and held him tight against a warm, broad chest that Enjolras knew instinctively who it belonged to. He could feel the smile stretched out on his boyfriend's face as Grantaire buried his face in the crook of his neck and pressed a light kiss.

"Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise, but you've got me seeing through different eyes," he sang into his neck. Enjolras felt his cheeks tinge red. Oh God, what was he doing here? And now? Why at this moment? "Somehow I've fallen under your spell, and somehow I'm feeling, it's up that I fell."

In a flash, he spun him around in his arms and held him close, lacing their fingers together, so that he was facing Grantaire as the music built up and the chorus came on. Grantaire smiled at him as he started to sing again, this time with Grantaire joining him.

"Every moment, as long as you're mine, I'll wake up my body and make up for lost time."

"Say there's no future for us as a pair," Grantaire sang as he lifted a hand to cup his cheek. Enjolras felt his blush darken.

"And though I may know, I don't care!" they sang together.

At his boyfriend's wide grin, Enjolras couldn't help but mirror his expression, a bright smile breaking out on his own face as they started the chorus once more.

"Just for this moment, as long as you're mine, come be how you want to and see how bright we shine!" They both belted, squeezing at each other's fingers. "Borrow the moonlight, until it is through-ooh." Grantaire picked him up and spun him in the air, Enjolras letting out an undignified shriek that dissolved into giggles as Elphaba and Fiyero both held the last note on through. "And know I'll be here, holding you-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh." Grantaire put him down and pulled him close as they both belted out as loud as they could the last line: "As long as you're mine!"

From his phone, they could hear Fiyero ask Elphaba "What is it?" and hear her respond "It's just, for the first time I feel... wicked!"

Enjolras walked over and paused his music before the next song had the opportunity to play, smiling when he felt Grantaire's form drape around him from behind once more. "I'll take it that means you've finished your painting?" he asked breathlessly. Grantaire smiled into his neck.

"I finished ages ago." Turning, he furrowed his eyebrows as he blinked confusedly at his boyfriend. Grantaire grinned. "You never sing when you know I can hear. I like listening to you sing, so..." he trailed off when he noticed Enjolras' cheeks colour an embarrassed red.

"You heard me singing?" he asked mortified, turning his face away.

He felt a hand on his cheek gently guide his head back to look directly into his boyfriend's eyes.

"And loved every second of it," Grantaire murmured before bending down to steal a quick kiss. Enjolras fisted at his shirt and pulled him back down when he tried to pull away. Grantaire chuckled and slid a hand around his waist, drawing him closer.

"What made you decide to come out now of all times, then?" he asked between kisses. Grantaire smiled against his lips.

"I couldn't just leave you by yourself when I heard you start to sing along to the greatest love duet in all of Broadway history, now could I? Although," he pulled away with an amused look, "you never did tell me you had a such a big thing for love songs." He raised an eyebrow.

Enjolras flushed. "It was only one song."

The corners of Grantaire's lips tugged upwards. "I was listening to you the entire time you've been in here. Wedding Song, All I Ask of You, I'll Cover You... it doesn't seem like only one song."

How would he explain this? Glancing up, he could see that Grantaire was fighting back a laugh. He knew it would be like this; but what else could he do? He clearly couldn't lie now that his secret was so openly exposed.

Wringing his hands, he mumbled, "Okay so maybe I do have a thing for love songs." He sighed an ran a hand through his curls. "I know, it's silly. They're all cheesy and hopelessly romantic and-mmh!"

He was cut off by a gentle kiss to his lips. "It's not silly," Grantaire said firmly when he pulled back.

"But your tastes are so much more thoughtful and complex and-mmh!"

"My tastes have nothing to do with yours. If you enjoy listening to love songs, that's your deal. And just because something's labeled a 'love song' doesn't automatically make it stupid to listen to. I thought you would be the one telling me that."

"Well, yes, but see, I- mmh!"

"And," Grantaire murmured against his ear, "I think it's cute. And I would love to sing more of these duets with you. Maybe if you would just let me listen to you sing..."

Enjolras glared at him. "Maybe if you would just let me finish my sentences."

Grantaire tugged him closer and traced a thumb over his lips. "That's a great idea. Except, I think there are better things you could do with your mouth right now."

Enjolras bit his lip and felt his cheeks burn hotter. "Like?" he stuttered in a way that only Grantaire could make him.

Grantaire grinned devilishly. "Let me show you." And with a firm grip on either of his hips, he lifted him up onto the table and brushed his lips over Enjolras'.

Perhaps it wasn't too terribly embarrassing to be caught singing along to love songs.

#enjolras #grantaire #les miserables #les mis #enjoltaire #exr #exrfic #I was listening to As Long As Your Mine when I scrolled past a post about these two dorks #and then this happened #I couldn't get it out of my head I HAD to write it #now if only I could feel this motivated while writinf my actual wips #exr fic #annie writes stories

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feysandfeels · 2 years

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I mean...

Here is the thing: I have been in this fandom for a long time, I have seen ships go up, ships go down, discourse over narrative and character meta. I have seen blogs become friends and I have seen disagreements on opinions about the books. Quite literally I have seen courts rise and fall, and people turn against characters because of story developments. But I have never fucking seen the abhorrent behaviour that a solid part of this fandom employs as I have seen in the last year. I remember another low moment in the fandom pitting two characters and their supporters against each other, we still feel the ripples today, but let me tell you it was never as bad as it is now.

Before I go any further I will say that thankfully this is not representative of everyone in the fandom that I have seen first hand the kindness that a lot of you offer, the smiles, jokes and support. Thankfully the ones who have been at the core of the fandom know that this is how it looks like.

Nonetheless, lately the hate and nastiness is so much louder than the kindness. Do you know why a lot of people don’t engage with the books? It’s because it is wildly known that this fandom is insane. I will reiterate that it has been my general experience that a lot of people are kind, smart, eloquent, friendly, even when in disagreement. I have had the utter luck to be surrounded by those. My fandom experience has been incredible and yes #NotAllOfYou behave like this, but can you imagine how fucking loud is the disrespect in this fandom is that it deters others from joining and nourishing this amazing stories with interesting takes? Like can you imagine how inhospitable this fandom looks from the outside that people think it three times before joining?

Regarding this ship I will admit that there is ground to be explored, that aesthetically it can make sense, I get you feel there are clues: yes that’s how shipping works and that’s great. Explore those mfs clues to your hearts content. But listen to me, we don’t all follow your logic even if you colour coded it for us, and that is OKAY THAT IS FINE THAT IS NORMAL, so in your exploration and “analysis” stop bringing real people into it. You don’t see the rest of the fandom dragging you all and being abusive to the level that this particular portion of the fandom does. If you don’t agree then scroll past or offer respectful counter arguments to enhance debate. It’s not that hard.

We all have our preferences but who are you in your twitter account to come screenshoting messages and tumblr posts to talk shit about someone else behind their back in such a public way? Do you know how pathetic you look doing that? Monitoring Instagram accounts so you can drag them and call them names in your precious accounts? Insulting people and getting personal just because they don’t see the logic behind your plot stretching arguments? People I know, good people, kind people, smart people, have been driven out of this fandom because of coward nasty ass immature behaviour over a fucking ship that isn’t even confirmed! The author won’t look at your immature “calling out posts” and go you know what? yes this is how it will go, here is your confirmation [insert generic thing about flowers, the colour pink and how it contrast with the colour black] thank you @/genericshippingurl. If you aren’t grown up enough to hold mature discourse and share theories, compare them, receive feedback and maybe a bit of “academic banter”, THEN YOU AREN’T GROWN ENOUGH TO READ THESE BOOKS.

There are many people that actively ship that ship and they do so in such a respectful manner, many of my mutuals are firmly on that ship and I am on mine and we don’t engage when it comes to that because we know we will disagree. Still I can’t help but wonder why the fuck is kindness not the law in that subgroup of the fandom? There are nasty people everywhere that is true but the pattern is loud enough for anyone, even outsider, to see it. Respect that other people don’t see your ship happening and have the arguments to back their views up. And no having screenshots of posts from other non shipping your ship blogs and mocking them is not RESPECTFUL. Like wtf are you going to do if the next book comes around and the ship doesn’t happen? Because whether you admit it or not, this is still a possibility! You would have been ass for literally nothing.

Also for the love of fuck stop making everything about them. CC is not about them and trust me if this ship will sail you will not get confirmation of them as a side detail in another book FROM ANOTHER SERIES.

So shut up if you don’t have anything good to say, stay in you lane and try to be fucking nice for once.

#Jesus fuck grow up #you know if this applies to you or if it doesn't #if the shoe fits then wear it.#The one in which I go off #FeysandfeelsPost #fandom nonsense #and don't even get me fucking started with the way some people have bullied others out of the fandom for thinking some characters are lgbtq+#mistakes and typos will be corrected after posting this because i never see them before.

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asset35-maya · 3 years

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I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

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haik-choo · 3 years

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what the holidays look like with the haikyuu boys

oikawa.

they look like sandy beaches, late sunsets, and tanned skin. festive red and green lights illuminate the bar you sit at with oikawa, the colors bouncing off his face as he looks at the menu. his skin is warm, heated from the setting sun; his arms and shoulders are tan, his pale chest peaking through his loose sleeveless shirt. “it’s strange for december to be so warm,” he murmurs as your finger traces circles on his open palm. “only to you. for everyone else here it’s just another day.” he makes a face and nods, flipping to the next page of the menu. “don’t you miss your home, tooru? japan must be nice and chilly outside right now.” he laughs, finally closing the menu and looking up at you, eyes shimmering. “it’s more than chilly. the roads must have iced over by now. but...” you lean in, anticipating his next words, “but...?” “...but, I am home. I’m here with you.” shy, you scoff, brushing his hand away and rolling your eyes. “oh, shut up.” you look at the beach in front of the restaurant for a while, heart pounding too hard to look back at your grinning boyfriend. from outside your peripheral vision his hand reaches to grab yours again and brings it up to his lips, gently kissing the back of your palm. “I mean it, though,” he whispers, “you really are my home.” the words tickle the hairs on your hand, heating up your ears and cheeks. you look back at him, taking in his glowing demeanor and loving touch, eyes soft. “I know. and you’re mine, tooru.”

tsukishima.

they look like messy hair even in the evening, neither one of you bothering to comb it when you woke up. there’s no fireplace, instead, there’s kei’s laptop on the coffee table, a video of fire playing, gentle wooden crackles filling the warm silence. the lights are off, save for the lamp that barely glows bright enough to be able to read under it. but, it still works. kei’s long legs are outstretched towards the coffee table, feet clad in red fuzzy socks you got him last year. in his left hand is a small book, some stupid small-font history book he’s reading for work; in his right hand a cup of hot chocolate made with hot water, marshmallows floating on top. you sit next to him, hands in lap, legs outstretched across the rest of the couch, eyes closed, only listening to the faux fire sizzling in front of you. “look at you, Mr. Studious Nerd,” you impishly joke, eyes opening to turn and look at his reaction. “shut up or you’ll get coal for christmas.” you pout, “I thought I got a promise ring?” a resolute sigh leaves his lips, eye closing for just a second, “I knew you’d sneak a look at your gift early.” you smile widely, shrugging. smugly, tsukshima goes back to reading, “good thing I got you something else to actually surprise you.” gasping, you latch onto his shoulder, eyes wide. “what?! really? I thought I checked all of the gift-hiding spots, though?” the sound of a page turning followed by a sigh and the closing of a leather-backed book resonates throughout the room. suddenly, you become warmer when a pair of lips brushes against your forehead. an arm wraps around your shoulder to pull you in, closer. a soft, “I love you so much, you dweeb,” rings like merry bells in your ear. under your breath, shy yet curious, you grumble, smile creeping on your face, “you dodged my question, idiot.”

kageyama.

they look like his toned legs extended out on the green couch you bought together, ice packs on each of his thighs and around his shoulders. his sniffle can be heard across the living room, red nose under attack from his cold. you smile, porridge in hand in a little festive bowl that has menorahs painted on the sides. “happy holidays, tobio. hope this helps you feel better.” the black-haired setter scoffs, “the only thing that would make me feel better is for this stupid cold to go away.” “I told you not to practice outside with wet hair. now your muscles hurt and you’re sick. you are simply reaping your consequences,” you reason, snobbish look on your face before it breaks with the roll of his eyes. laughing, you move his legs and sit next to him, spoon in hand. you raise your brows when he pouts and looks away, brows drawn close together. “I know you aren’t acting like a literal toddler right now.” “I don’t need you to feed me!” rolling your eyes, you sigh and place the porridge across the coffee table and stand up. “fine. feed yourself you nimrod.” not even two steps out the room you hear a low grumble come from the couch. turning around, you see kageyama with his head low, mouth barely moving. “can you feed me?” you give him a look, “...please?” smiling, you walk back over. his deep navy blue eyes contrast with the light red of his nose and around his eyes; your heart jumps as you feed him, his eyes trained on you. moments pass, silence covers the room in a safe, secure blanket. when he’s done eating, you place the bowl on the table before shoving kageyama aside to lay next to him. “you’ll get sick,” he says, but his arm is already wrapped around you, “maybe.” another second passes before he speaks again, “I really appreciate you, ya know.” you smile, turning on the tv to the sports channel, “yeah, I know.”

akaashi.

they look like batter-splattered countertops, green and red sprinkles dusting the floor and dangerously close to the stovetop. a warm vanilla scent exudes from the oven, the timer counting down from twelve minutes. akaashi is bent over the burners, stirring beige eggnog with a wooden spoon. unfortunately, it looks lumpy and burned on the edges, somehow. with a sigh of defeat, the wavy-haired man puts a lid on the pot and moves across the galley-way kitchen, leaning on the white counters. you look over from the fridge, amused. “chef’s special doing downhill?” he chuckles weakly, nodding, “you have no idea. I think I burnt it...somehow.” you laugh, closing the refrigerator door with your hip, two glasses of eggnog in your hand, “that’s why I bought these, big man.” he takes the glasses, quirking a brow, “good thinking.” it’s quiet as you lean next to him, both watching the clock tick down closer and closer to zero. in this time you decide to stare at the love of your life, his nose with a slight bump in the middle, his eyelashes grow outward like grass, his tired yet loving eyes, staring straight at you. oh. you blink, turning away. “sorry. got caught in the moment.” akaashi hums from beside you, not missing a beat as his hand comes up, picking something from your hair. he rolls it in his fingers, “looks like dandruff,” he jokes, making you groan and push him away. “I’m just kidding,” you can hear the grin in his voice, you can see it too once he moves to the front line of your sight, forehead coming to rest against yours. gently, he brushes his nose with your own, eyes open only a sliver. “I am so in love with you.” he whispers, voice fragile and warm. heart swelling, you gaze up at him, “I love you, too, keiji.” in the background, the timer beeps thrice, but neither of you really rush to take them out of the oven, you bought extra cookies just in case, anyway.

kenma.

they look like warm fuzzy blankets layered on his full sized bed, the low glow of the led lights on his ceiling shining down on you both. the sound of clicking buttons and occasional ending screen of a failed level play behind you; your own nose buried in your phone, scrolling past posts of friends out and about. kenma’s sock-clad feet rub against each other in lieu of more warmth as his head shrinks back under the protection of the white blanket on top of him. “I’m still cold,” he mutters before scoffing as he fails the same level again for what must be the thousandth time. he tosses the nintendo aside, shifting closer to you. “get another blanket then,” you muse, eyes still trained on your phone. “hmm, don’t wanna,” you feel his cold nose dig into the back of your neck, his arms encircling your waist; a warm breath fans across your nape, and you twitch. laughing, you try to elbow him away, but he whines at your resistance and holds onto you tighter. amused, you click off your phone and shove it under your pillow, turning towards him. you’re met with glowing 24 karat-gold-eyes and messy hair. he stares unblinking at you, and shyness overcomes you as he shamelessly lands his gaze at your lips. nothing can compare to the image of kenma slowly leaning towards you, sunny eyes closing in anticipation of a sweet kiss. a few beats pass with his lips on yours, and he’s in no rush when he pulls away, still staring at you. “you taste like apple fritter.” shy, you place a hand on his chest, “don’t you have a stream in like an hour or something?” “that can wait,” he whispers, body snuggling into yours.

sugawara.

they look like ribbon and tissue paper strewn across the floor of a shared apartment. glitter spilled on the table, scissors open wide in an unsafe position peaking out from under the couch (that has an obscene amount of pillows with different holidays listed on them), tubes of wrapping paper scattered in random corners. you sit opposite of the gray-haired beauty, sticking labels on newly-wrapped presents, each of them addressed to a kid at the orphanage down the street. sugawara’s tongue pokes out of his mouth, nimble thumbs placing tape of the edges of the festive wrapping paper. “you know, koushi, not all of the kids celebrate christmas,” the former setter looks at you quickly, shrugging, “I know! I just wanted to get each of them a gift anyway! wouldn’t you be bummed if I got light up cinderella shoes but you got nothing?” you laugh, shaking your head. it’s silent for a few minutes more, the last few wraps being the most complicated ones, spheres and cylinders. you sit, waiting, gazing at the ugly sweater his kindergarten kids had gotten him (they all chipped in a few dollars (or their parents did)) that was a size too small and incredibly itchy, but he still wore anyway. “hmm, whatcha starin’ at?” his voice broke you from your trance. you stay quiet a few seconds more muttering, “you’ve got such a beautiful heart, koushi.” a blush erupts on your boyfriend’s face, his hands stilling before he smiles softly and continues his job. “only because you’re here by my side. you make me a better person each day.” you bite your lip and play with the nametags in your hand, feeling bad because you know you have the best gift out of all of the kids, and he’s sitting right across from you, failing at wrapping a soccer ball.

tendou.

they look like empty streets in the earliest hours of the morning, a time so early yet late that the birds are asleep, yet twitching in anticipation to be awake. the snow falls gently on the salted sidewalk, fresh and fluffy. a loud laugh breaks through the silence of the neighborhood street, the crunching of snow following suit. red hair dashes from piles of snow to behind lampposts, garbage cans, mailboxes. you wind your arm up, a heftily packed ball of (almost) ice ready in your palm for ammunition. a giggle leaves your lips as tendou grabs his own ball of snow, cheeks bitten pink by the harsh cold. ‘he’s fast, but not fast enough’ you think as you launch the snowball. it flies through the air, hitting the lanky chocolatier in the face with a satisfying crunch. tendou stills, nose red and wet from melted snow as you laugh so hard you almost fall over. a smile slowly climbs his now-numbing face and he walks towards you. your laughter only stops when he’s right in front of you, gazing down at your gleeful figure with love swimming in his eyes like marshmallows in gourmet hot chocolate. the snow rests on top of his buzzed red hair like white icing to red velvet cake. warmth radiates off him, penetrating deep in your heart. “you’re so beautiful,” he mutters, embracing you. you melt in his arms, but the feeling of wet coldness slapping into your back and the sound of crunching snow tell you of his crime. you can only laugh and call his name, “tendou satori, get back here!” and chase his nimble figure down the road back home, where he’ll hug you -- for real, this time.

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wearenot7withu · 3 years

Text

The one that got away

summary : He captured your attention the first time you saw him. He was everything you've ever wanted, and after knowing him, you just knew - he's it for you. But, unfortunately, everything has to come to an end. Yours just came faster than you wanted.

pairing : jungkook x f!reader

word count : 2.1k

genre : angst, fluff

warnings : smut but only hinting at it, major character's death

a/n : I was scrolling through TikTok, where I saw a jk edit with this song, and I got inspired. I suggest you listen to the song beforehand to get you in the mood. Also, I decided to participate in a project where I'm going to write about mental health and how covid affected it, so if you're from the EU and you want to, of course, dm me here so I can ask you a few questions. The whole thing is anonym of course. As always, feedbacks are appreciated. Thank you so much for the love and support you gave to me during these past few posts of mine. Love you xx

masterlist

Age sixteen – Summer after high school, when we first met

It was a hot summer day when your family decided to take a trip to the beach. The sun was shining, there wasn't any cloud in the sky, and the water was cold enough to cool you down without freezing in it. Many people thought spending that day on the beach is the best idea, including him and his friends.

They were playing volleyball while you were watching them from your towel on the sand. He was gorgeous, a sight to see with his toned muscles and raven hair which was slightly damp from the water. You could hear them laugh, and his laugh was the most beautiful thing you've listened to in your life. He mayhaps felt that you were following him with your eyes because he looked at your way, but even for the love of God, you couldn't look away from him. His eyes were so big, round and shiny you practically melted then and there.

That day was probably your lucky day when the Higher Powers thought you should be happy. The unknown man made his way over to you. He was walking with such confidence. The other females on the beach were under the same spell that you did. "Hi, the name's Jungkook. Wanna go and grab ice cream?"

To which you said yes, and that was the first good decision you've made in your life.

Age seventeen – We'd make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

You don't know how long you've been straddling his legs, maybe for one hour, two – you lost count after the third song on the radio. That day was a rainy one, with thunders and bolts of lightning striking through the sky. Therefore, you decided to drive around, finally coming to a stop somewhere near the beach's parking lot.

At first, you stopped only to eat the food you've bought, but then Jungkook kissed you, and you somehow ended up on his lap, with his hands on your ass. Since then, you've sucked some purple marks on his neck, some were barely visible, and some were, well, quite visible.

"Mhmm, Bubble, I think we should go" His voice was breathy, and his hands were still groping your ass and your tits. He didn't look like he wanted to go at all. "I'm serious, and I said to your dad that you'd be home by 11."

"It's still only 8 PM Koo" You kissed up his neck, took your time at his sharp jawline biting and sucking on his flash there and finally pressing your lips onto his. You've opened your mouth, inviting his tongue for a dance with yours. As predicted, you've lost and were the one being lead through that dance.

"I don't want to get carried away here" He switched the roles, him being the one who was kissing down on you, stopping at your chest, marking you there.

"Could be fun", You answered him cheekily.

In the end, you two stayed in his car, the radio playing in the background, kissing the soul out of each other. That was the second good decision you've made in your life.

Age eighteen – And on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos

"You sure you want to do this?" Jungkook asked you, sitting in his car in front of one of the tattoo parlours in the city. The difference with this same parlour was that he got his few tattoos made here, something about one of his friends working here.

"Are you?" You asked back. Truth to tell, you were a little bit nervous. It wasn't like you were getting his name tattooed on you, not even his initials, only the symbol of yang. As cliché as it is, you're each other's other half, with him tattooing ying, you two will always be connected somehow. And if something goes wrong, you won't have something as name specific on your skin.

Only the thought of not having him around makes you depressed, so you quickly made those thoughts fade away. Walking into the building with him, hand in hand, made you much calmer. Both of you chose the places where your tattoos will be. After many discussions, you decided on your wrists, more specifically on the insides of your wrists.

The tattoos got done quickly, considering that a few weeks ago, you were sitting at one of the leather chairs for hours, waiting for your boyfriend. Then,

you were done, you sat in a diner in the back of the room, you put your wrist next to his, and you've never felt happier, ever.

"What's with that smile?" Jungkook asked you, probably with the same goofy smile on his face as what was on yours.

"I’m happy” You’ve interlaced your fingers with his, his thumb stroking the back of your hand with a gentle touch. “What’s with that smile?”

“I’m happy.”

Getting a matching tattoo with him, something that’s going to stay with you permanently, was your third good decision in your life.

Age nineteen – Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

“Jungkook, if you fall and break your neck, I’m bringing you back to life so that I can murder you with my own hands” Your voice was full of panic because the idiot boyfriend of yours was dancing on the edge of the roof while being slightly drunk.

He said it’ll be a good idea to try out that cherry liquor that’s in their cabinet, that he’d been eyeing it for months and still nobody opened it. So what other occasion is better than when his parents are away for the weekend, and his girlfriend is over.

“Don’t worry, Bubble. You won’t get rid of me that easily” He was always confident, way too confident. The moment those words left his lips, he slipped.

Thankfully he had good enough reflexes that instead of falling backwards and landing on the floor, he fell forward, with one arm stopping him from breaking his pretty face. “The bottle”, You yelped.

“Thank you, I’m fine” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Who cares about you. There’s a delicious liquor in your hand” Jungkook climbed towards you, sitting down next to you. You grabbed the bottle from his hand and took a big sip out of it. You didn’t even need anything to drink right after the alcohol went down your throat. It was sweeter than sweet.

“I love you too” Instead of answering him, you kissed his lips. You could taste the cherry on them, making you feel even stronger about kissing him. His kisses were addicting even without the sweetness of the cherry, but with it, they were something you didn’t think you could quit.

“Take me to your room.”

Drinking with him that night, making love in his bed with him until the sun came up, was the fourth good decision in your life.

Age twenty – Talk about our future like we had a clue

“Jungkook, what are we going to do?” You were crying for the past hour. Your period is late, and it’s never late. You’ve always gotten it on time, but this time you were scared. “We’re not ready to have a baby. We’ve barely started college.”

“Shhh. It’s alright” Jungkook tried to calm you down. He, too, was panicking, but for your sake, he pretended as he has it together. “No matter what the results will be. We’re in this together, and we’re going to get through this.” And you believed him.

Thankfully the tests came back as negative, all five of them. Two days later, your period made its appearance too. It’s not that you don’t know that you can get pregnant if you don’t use protection. It’s just that you drank a little too much a few weeks ago, and your pill might not be that effective.

You were cuddling on your bed, with Netflix playing on Jungkook’s laptop. Your thoughts were running wild, imagining if you were indeed pregnant. How would they look like? Would they be a she or a he? Which one of you would be the cool parent?

At the last one, you let out a light chuckle, which didn’t go unnoticed by the man beside you. “What’s so funny?”

You looked up at him with a fond smile on your face. “Just… What would have been if I’m pregnant?”

“What do you mean?” He looked confused. “We would’ve made it work, together, of course.”

“No, like… would they be a he or a she? Or like who would be the favourite” He wanted to say something, but you quickly continued your rambling “, That’s not even up for debate. I’m 100% sure if we were to have children, you’d be the favoured parent.”

“Don’t say that. Why would you say that? You’d be their mother,” He told you, but by the smile on his face, you could say, your words went straight to his heart, making it beat so much faster. Also, he thinks the same, somewhere deep in his heart.

“You know if we were to have kids, and if it’s a girl, I want her name to be Aera. I’m not letting go of that name”

“Deal. But then, if it’s a boy, it’s going to be Eun-sang.”

“Deal”

He smiled at you with his big bunny smile, his eyes twinkling like they’re holding the stars in them. “I can’t wait to start a family with you.”

Telling him about your pregnancy scare, which led you two to talk about this topic, was your fifth good decision in your life.

Age twenty-one – Never planned that one day I'd be losing you

It doesn’t matter how much a good decision you’ve made, because you just made your worst, and this one is something that you can’t reverse.

You didn’t want this. You had a long week, you were stressed, you had a headache, and you took it out on him. He was so lovely about it. Even when you screamed at him how useless he is, he talked to you with so much kindness in his voice.

He went out to get your favourite doughnuts when a douchebag of a driver didn’t think about stopping at the red light and collided with Jungkook’s car, hitting the driver’s side of the vehicle.

“Please wake up. I love you. I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but please, you have to wake up. I have so much to tell you.” You were sitting next to his bed for almost a day. You were crying, couldn’t get even a moment of sleep. You set your mind on repeating the phrase, he will be okay.

Except he didn’t turn okay. The machines next to him started beeping, the lines straightening. Doctors and nurses run into the room, trying to bring back the man on the bed back to life. You were screaming, trying to get through the people who were holding you back. “No, please no. Bring him back. Do something. Baby, please don’t go.” A vast scream left your lips when the doctors stepped away from his body and declared the time of death.

You killed him. You were the one who did this to him. The last thing you said to him was don’t bother to come back.

And that was your worst decision in life because he, in fact, never came back.

Age twenty-nine – 8 years later

After Jungkook’s death, all you wanted to do was to go after him. However, you had to stay strong because this time, you were for sure pregnant. You tried to tell him that day, but you never had the chance to. He didn’t even know, although you made sure that your little girl, Aera knew about him. You gave her this name because you felt like this, he had a say in what’s her name’s going to be. You also came to his gravestone with her ever since she turned five.

You didn’t want her to feel like she’s missing out because her real dad is not around anymore, but you also made sure she’s not too attached to him.

You got married two years ago. It was a long process, the heartbreak and getting over Jungkook. If you want to be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever be over him. He was the one for you, the love of your life. No matter what you do, who you are with, the feelings you had for him are only once in a lifetime.

“Mom, if you could do one thing different in your life, what would that be?” Your little girl looked up at you with the same eyes as his father’s. They were even shining with the same brightness as his.

“There’s only one thing. As grateful as I am for your stepdad and this little bean here,” You pointed at your tummy, then looked at the gravestone. “I wouldn’t let him leave. I would make him stay, so I wouldn’t have to say he’s the one that got away.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 3 years

Text

no body, no crime - allison argent x reader

(gif source)

Summary: When y/n disappears after confronting her husband about his affair, Allison takes matters into her own hands. Based on “no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)” by taylor swift [x]. You can find the mood board for this fic here

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: cursing, infidelity, implied kidnapping, implied murder, murder, alleged murder, alleged/implied death of reader, reader is married to a man with a j name 🤢

a/n: hi everyone! it’s been a hot minute since i posted a new fic & this is why. i’ve been working on this since late december of 2020, so this is the longest i’ve ever spent on a stand-alone work. i’ll include more gory details about the writing process at the end if you’re interested :)

dedicated to: elle (@demxters) for all of her help and ideas! this fic literally wouldn’t have gotten finished without her, send her some love <3

this is also dedicated to caoimhe (@free-pool-trash) for not murdering me after i gave her a preview several weeks ago and then just ✨stopped writing✨

master list

Este's a friend of mine

We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

“Hey!” Allison greeted cheerily as she met y/n at their usual table tucked in the corner of their favorite restaurant. y/n returned the brunette’s smile as she stood up to hug her friend, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Allison saw through y/n’s facade and furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” she asked as concern spread across her features.

“I think Justin is having an affair,” y/n admitted. The statement dropped like a bomb between the two women, causing Allison to nearly spew the wine in her mouth all over the table. She coughed a few times and drank some water to clear her throat before she composed herself enough to ask questions.

“What happened? Did you see something?” Allison asked hesitantly. Her mind was still reeling from the mere concept of y/n’s husband cheating on her. Sure, Justin had never been Allison’s favorite guy, but it was normal for girls to think that no guy would ever be good enough for their best friend. Right?

Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity

She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth"

"That ain't my jewelry on our joint account"

y/n explained what had been going on over the past few weeks. Justin had been acting distant, which wasn’t too abnormal, but when he started coming home from work much later than his shifts ended and disappearing at odd hours of the night, y/n got concerned. The day that she had planned to approach him about everything and ask if anything was wrong, she got a call from her bank while driving home from work.

“Hi Mrs. y/l/n, this is Kathy from the bank. I’m calling to inform you that there have been a few large cash withdrawals from your joint account recently under your husband’s name, as well as a pretty expensive purchase yesterday at the jeweler,” the rest of Kathy’s words sounded muffled to y/n. It was nowhere near her birthday, Valentine’s day, or their anniversary, so y/n didn’t know what he could possibly be spending all their money on.

The next incident came a few days later when both y/n and Justin were home. y/n’s husband was in the shower and his phone buzzed with a new text message alert. Typically, y/n was never the type to snoop on her husband’s phone, but she figured she should check in case it was a work message. At least that’s how she justified it in her head. Justin had saved the sender’s number under the contact name “Spam Risk.” It was clever, y/n had to give him credit for that at least. Upon further inspection, y/n quickly realized that those texts weren’t sent from a telemarketer bot.

6:24 p.m. I can’t wait to see you tonight, baby - Spam Risk

6:25 p.m. Don’t keep me waiting too long ;) - Spam Risk

y/n thought the messages were strange, but the picture that followed the messages was definitely what threw y/n for a loop. There, on her husband’s text message thread, was a racy photo of a woman’s body that definitely wasn’t hers. y/n was quite literally stunned to silence as she dropped the phone back down onto the dresser. For the rest of the night, y/n was numb and quiet, not that Justin noticed. Then, like clockwork, he left the house at 11 p.m. with no explanation of where he was going or when he would be back.

By the end of y/n’s story, Allison’s mouth was open so wide she was sure her jaw would hit the table.

“What are you going to do?” Allison whispered, still in shock. y/n grimaced before clearing her throat and speaking her next words with finality.

No, there ain't no doubt

I think I'm gonna call him out

Este wasn't there

Tuesday night at Olive Garden at her job or anywhere

“Hi, there should be a reservation for two under Allison Argent or y/n y/l/n for tonight,” Allison greeted warmly as she approached the hostess stand at their go-to girl’s night restaurant.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the hostess said with a smile as she grabbed two menus and led her towards their usual table. Two menus. That must mean that y/n wasn’t there yet? Allison thought it was strange, y/n almost always was the first of the two to arrive. Allison brushed off the thought as she thanked the hostess and sat down. She had intended to look over the menu, but the strangeness of it all wouldn’t leave her mind. y/n was late. She was never late. Allison pulled out her phone to text her best friend, and it then occurred to her that she hadn’t heard from y/n since last week. Allison had been away on a “work” trip with her dad for the past six days and had just gotten back into town. After 30 minutes of sitting at the table alone, half a dozen unanswered text messages, and even more calls sent straight to voicemail, Allison dropped a few bills on the table and left.

As Allison pulled out of the parking lot, she turned on the radio in a futile attempt to drown out some of her racing thoughts. Between songs the radio host took to the mic to make an announcement.

“Hello Beacon Hills, we now interrupt your regularly scheduled listening with an urgent message from the Sheriff's department. Speaking now is Sheriff Noah Stilinski,” the host trailed off before there was a brief crackle as the audio transitioned to the Sheriff’s press briefing. Allison turned up the volume as the Sheriff’s voice carried across the radio.

“Thank you all for attending and tuning in. It is with great displeasure and a heavy heart that I inform you all that y/n y/l/n has been reported missing. Shortly after 8 a.m. this morning, we were informed by her husband that she didn’t show up for work yesterday morning and also didn’t come home last night,” Sheriff Stilinski continued speaking but it all began to sound like white noise to Allison. It took everything she had in her to focus on not veering off the road so that she could head to the Sheriff’s station and speak to Stilinski in person.

Conveniently, her route took her right past y/n and Justin’s house. Allison didn’t know what to expect as she sped by their house, but the fact that Justin’s normally filthy truck had been cleaned and waxed definitely caught her eye. The truck and driveway were soon out of sight due to the speed she was driving at, but at first glance, it looked as though his tires and grill had been replaced.

He reports his missing wife

And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires

About a week had passed since y/n had been reported missing. Allison wasn’t sure how many search parties had been held, but they all resulted in the same thing: nothing. There wasn’t a single trace of her best friend, in fact, everything in Beacon Hills looked completely unchanged and normal. Allison’s focus and appetite seemed to have left with her other half, try as she might to desperately hold onto them. Her marksmanship had even been affected, something that hadn’t happened since high school.

Allison started driving around town during her free time. She wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, she mostly did it to try to clear her mind, though most times she was unsuccessful. She’d been mindlessly taking right and left turns and before she realized where she was, she passed y/n’s house.

Allison hadn’t planned to slow down as she passed the house, it was a mindless act if anything. Seeing a moving truck backed up to the house while Justin and some unfamiliar blonde woman were unloading boxes ensured that her decision to park her car where it couldn’t be seen and spy on the pair wasn’t mindless. Despite her gut telling her not to, Allison decided to give Justin the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he needed a roommate now since y/n couldn’t pay her share of the rent? Allison tried her best to keep all of her judgments and suspicions at bay as she watched the otherwise uneventful event unfold while biting her fingernails.

A few boxes later, Justin pulled the blonde in by her waist and kissed her with a fervor that would make most people blush. Allison’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she sat there in shock with her mouth wide open. It took a while, mostly because the kiss lasted for an obnoxious amount of time, but Allison finally regained control of her body. It was like her brain had to go through a hard reset before she was able to face the reality of the situation.

y/n was right. Justin was cheating on her. Not only that, but Justin had cheated on y/n, spent less than a week grieving her disappearance, then allowed this to happen.

And his mistress moved in

Sleeps in Este's bed and everything

Allison found out that Justin Smith’s mistress’s name was Rebecca Baker. She was a few years younger than y/n and she worked at the same company as Justin. It didn’t take long for Allison to hack into both of their iCloud accounts. A few hours of scrolling later she was really regretting her decision, especially when she got to Justin’s messages to Rebecca about y/n.

2:47 a.m. What about your wife? - Spam Risk

2:47 a.m. What about her? - Justin

2:48 a.m. Are you going to leave her or kick her out or something? - Spam Risk

2:48 a.m. It’s been taken care of. - Justin

2:48 a.m. Taken care of? Justin, what does that mean? - Spam Risk

2:49 a.m. Justin??? - Spam Risk

Each new message ensured that bits of Allison’s fingernails had been gnawed off while her left hand fidgeted anxiously in front of her mouth. Allison decided that those messages were probably the most incriminating thing she’d find digitally, but the time and date stamps caught her eye. The texts were sent early Monday morning, the day that y/n allegedly left home and then didn’t show up for work or return home.

A chill spread from deep within Allison’s bones up to the surface of her skin, making goosebumps appear. Allison didn’t know what exactly, but she knew something terrible had happened to y/n and Justin had something to do with it. She shut her laptop a little harder than necessary as a resolved look spread across her face.

No, there ain't no doubt

Somebody's gotta catch him out

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen

Allison regularly accessed her personal armory, whether it was to prepare for a job or pack for a trip to the shooting range, but it had been a while since a powerful and unforgiving feeling hung over her shoulders. Allison carefully ran her fingers over her custom silver arrowheads as she considered her options. Her father’s words from one of her adolescent archery lessons rung in her head.

“The type of bow and arrows you use doesn’t matter. As long as you use them right, you’ll be able to make any shot. Don’t get hung up on the technicalities.”

Not too long after, her bag was stocked with her essentials: a bow, her trusted black leather archery glove, as well as a handful of arrows, though these ones lacked the silver heads she typically reserved for more exotic expeditions.

The rare dark clouds in the California sky at sunset were reflected in Allison’s cold eyes. The drive to her target’s house was familiar, the turns she made were almost instinctual. Normally these roads reminded her of her coffee dates with y/n and nights they spent talking for hours until sunlight crept through the windows. Now, her mind was blank and her heart was devoid of all emotion.

Even though Allison had disabled her car’s GPS earlier, she parked her car about a mile away from his house. When she was done, there wouldn’t be any evidence that could be traced back to her. She memorized his schedule; at 5:00 p.m. his shift ended and recently he’d been getting home by 5:20. His girlfriend got home sometime between 5:30 and 5:45, but she would leave for her pilates class around 6:30 and wouldn’t get home until 7:45. Allison had just over an hour window to get the job done, but it wouldn’t take that long. If everything went according to plan, she’d be off the property within a few minutes of taking the shot.

When she arrived her target had just come home from work and was alone in the house. She waited patiently, hidden by the trees that the property backed up to. She watched as he moved around through the open curtains and then as his girlfriend entered the house and kissed him with a passion that made Allison’s stomach churn. She watched as they ate dinner together, as her target’s girlfriend got ready for her gym class, and watched as she got in her car and drove away. When Allison checked her watch it was only 6:25 p.m., she had far more time than she needed.

The plan was simple, really. Under the cover of darkness, she’d flip the breakers, effectively cutting the power. When her target came out to investigate, she’d let him fumble around in the darkness for a while. He’d always been a paranoid individual, so it wouldn’t take much to get him on edge. A rustle in the bushes here, a small snapped tree branch there, and then something that would get his attention. Allison wanted his eyes to be on her when she took the shot.

Allison’s target was watching TV so he knew immediately when the power went out, plus the fact that the once illuminated house was suddenly bathed in darkness. The high-pitched yelp that escaped his throat almost made Allison laugh. She had to keep quiet though, at least for now. As expected, the dopey man scurried around to the side of the house where the breakers were located in no time. The batteries in the flashlight he held were on their last leg, that much was evident in the way the light beam flickered every few seconds.

Just as he opened the door to the circuit breaker panel, Allison moved. A rustle here. The sound practically echoed in the silence of the night, causing the man to whip around and shine his flashlight directly at the source of the noise. There was nothing there. It’s just the wind, he reasoned before getting back to work. After a few switches had been flipped - none of them for the outdoor lights - he heard another noise. This one was much louder than the last, a small snapped tree branch there. Again, the flashlight’s flickering light beam uncovered nothing, but it was enough to make all of the hairs on the back of Allison’s target’s neck stand up straight. He hastily flipped the rest of the breakers and the outdoor lights finally came on.

When yellow light from the backyard fixtures flooded the area, both Allison and her target were revealed. Allison stood a considerable distance away from the man, but she was close enough to see the blood drain from his face and his Adam's apple bob. When his eyes darted to the bow hung by her side, realization dawned on his face. He began to turn away with the intention of running, but Allison’s voice held him frozen in place.

“Don’t move,” she ordered quietly without any aggression behind her tone. Her face wasn’t threatening, she just looked calm and focused. Allison’s smooth features and peaceful expression was what scared the man the most.

“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t-” he stammered out, his arms and legs beginning to tremble.

“Shh,” Allison chastised as she raised her bow, loading it with an arrow. Her fingers moved with precision, her muscles knew this routine well.

“Please don’t- no, you can’t, you can’t do this!” the man pleaded. He wasn’t above begging on his knees, but Allison wasn’t about to give him the chance. Her gaze was sharply focused on her target, the view of her tightly grasped bow in her peripheral vision.

“Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”

When Allison’s fingers let go of the bowstring the arrow flew smoothly through the air. The only sounds heard were the arrowhead piercing skin and the man wordlessly falling to the ground. The arrow went straight through his heart. Maybe Allison’s shot landed right where she intended. Maybe there was a metaphor in there. Allison checked her wristwatch, the numbers 6:45 shining back at her. An entire hour to spare.

Time to take out the trash.

I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene

The job didn’t take long at all and it was definitely one of Allison’s least challenging ones, but it still felt nice to take a hot shower and sit in front of her fireplace with a cup of tea. The fire served a dual purpose; the crackles of the burning wood soothed her like a lullaby while the flames licked around and destroyed her bloody clothes from earlier. All of her equipment had been cleaned and put away, positioned exactly as it had been before. Everything was the same, nothing changed or out of place. There was just one less heartbeat in the world that night.

Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me

On the second day of the trial, Rebecca Baker’s lawyers were throwing whatever they could against the wall to see if something would stick. That morning they began to argue that Allison Argent might’ve abducted and murdered Justin Smith in retaliation for y/n’s disappearance. It was all speculation at best, but the theory unfortunately made sense to the jury. Before things could get too far, the prosecution called its first witness of the day to the stand.

“Mrs. Martin, where were you on the night of Mr. Smith’s suspected disappearance?” the prosecution lawyer questioned calmly.

“I was with Allison at my house. We were having a girls night in, you can check my security cameras,” Lydia answered confidently. Lydia still had a pocketful of favors from her MIT days, so when the jurors were shown the clips from Lydia’s home security cameras, they saw exactly what they would’ve expected based on Lydia’s testimony.

Truth be told, Lydia didn’t know anything about what happened that night; including Allison’s whereabouts and any details related to Justin’s alleged demise. All she knew was that Allison called and asked for a simple favor - an alibi for just a few hours. Lydia didn’t ask questions and Allison didn’t give answers.

Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

On the third day of the trial, Rebecca Baker took the stand. Her lawyers tried to help her as best they could, but the prosecution was ruthless. All of the evidence was circumstantial at best - all parties, including the judge and jurors, knew that - but it was enough to make everyone reconsider the spotless image the defense had tried to create for Ms. Baker.

“Ms. Baker, is it true that you knowingly engaged in a romantic relationship while Justin Smith was married to and living with his wife?” another one of the prosecution’s attorneys began.

“Yes,” Rebecca replied meekly. Allison internally scoffed from her seat in the gallery. She found irony in the fact that Rebecca didn’t find any humility or shame in sleeping with another woman’s husband until she was under oath.

“Is it also true that within approximately a week of Mrs. y/l/n’s disappearance, you moved into Mr. Smith and Mrs. y/l/n’s house?”

“That is correct,” Rebecca said as she began to wring her hands together anxiously. The judge tapped his wrist watch and shot a stern look towards the prosecutor. The man nodded in response and continued to his final points.

“I’ll wrap up my questions for you, Ms. Baker. Can you confirm that shortly after moving in with Mr. Smith, multiple legal and financial arrangements and adjustments were made? And these new arrangements make you the sole beneficiary of Mr. Smith’s life issuance policy, assets, and investments?”

By the end of the prosecution’s final question, every jury member and spectator sat up straighter and waited to hear Rebecca’s response with bated breath. The blonde ball of nerves sighed defeatedly before turning to face the attorney directly as she answered his question.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“No further questions, your honor.” As the lead prosecutor returned to the plaintiff’s table, Rebecca’s attorney stood up to address the judge.

“Your honor, the defense would like to request a brief recess,” the defense attorney nearly pleaded. Though his poker face was much better than his client’s, it was clear that he was getting nervous.

“We’ll reconvene in 15 minutes,” the judge ordered with a stern glare cast towards Rebecca.

They think she did it but they just can't prove it

It soon became clear to Rebecca that the recess her legal team requested was nothing more than a “kiss your dignity goodbye” meeting. If she hadn’t been queasy before the recess was called, she definitely was upon re-entering the courtroom.

The rest of the trial seemed to move in slow motion for Rebecca. A few more witnesses were called to the stand, more lackluster evidence was presented, both sides made their closing arguments, and the jury left to discuss the verdict. After what felt like an eternity, the jury returned with an official decision.

Silence settled over the room as a single juror stood to address the court.

“The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 1 of murder in the first degree based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 2 of kidnapping based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant guilty on count 3 of insurance fraud based on…”

The rest of the jurors’ statement sounded like white noise to Rebecca. She was just barely coherent enough to hear the judge deliver her punishment a few minutes later. $50,000 fine and 200 hours of community service.

Allison stuck around to the bitter end of the trial to hear the verdict in person. In all honesty, Allison didn’t want Rebecca to go to jail. It wouldn’t be right for her to serve time for a crime she didn’t commit, but Allison did find satisfaction in the fact that Rebecca would soon be picking up garbage in a fluorescent orange vest.

After the majority of the spectators had vacated the courtroom gallery, Allison leisurely gathered her things. Justice had been served to Justin, she personally made sure of that, and now justice had been served to Rebecca. The blonde and brunette women briefly locked eye contact as Allison made her way towards the exit.

“You did this,” Rebecca whispered to Allison. Suddenly, it was like a flip switched within her. One moment she was numb, yet calm and collected, and the next moment she was screaming (literal) bloody murder and had to be held back by her lawyers.

“YOU DID THIS! YOU KILLED JUSTIN, YOU BITCH!” Rebecca cried, though her words fell on deaf ears. Allison exited the courtroom with her head held high as the courtroom deputy and defense lawyers did their best to calm the hysterical woman.

She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it

A week later the court case was still on Allison’s mind but the emotional scars had begun to scab. Healing was never a straight or smooth path, Allison had learned that the hard way over the years, but this was a start.

y/n’s landlord had been generous enough to allow Allison to gather y/n’s things before he cleaned out the house for new renters. As Allison walked through the home she once considered to be an extension of her own, she felt her throat dry out and tighten up. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she was wiping salty tears off of the picture frames she’d carefully picked up. Each photo unlocked a new memory, some even elicited a chuckle out of Allison amidst her tears.

A photo from y/n’s wedding day stood out among all the rest as Allison’s eyes jumped from frame to frame. It was a candid shot Lydia had taken while they were in y/n’s dressing room before the ceremony. y/n looked as beautiful as ever in her flowy white gown and Allison’s mulberry maid of honor dress complemented it well. As Allison put the final touches on y/n’s hair and makeup, y/n fastened the clasp of a custom necklace behind Allison’s neck. On a thin, medium-length chain hung an arrowhead from the first time Allison had ever tried to teach y/n how to shoot a bow and arrow. y/n failed miserably, but it was a cherished memory for both girls. Since that day, Allison had only taken the necklace off a handful of times.

Allison smiled bittersweetly at the memory and wiped a fresh tear off of the decorative frame before pulling her necklace out from underneath her shirt. She pressed a gentle kiss to the cool silver arrowhead and then to the photo frame, right above y/n’s styled hair.

A feeling that Allison couldn’t quite explain flowed through her body just then; it was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck underwater or seeing the gentle rays of the sun for the first time after a hurricane, it felt like freedom. Allison felt almost as if y/n was right there next to her, with her head resting on Allison's shoulder and wrapping her arms around the brunette’s torso. In that moment, Allison somehow wordlessly knew with every fiber in her being that y/n was finally at peace.

No, no body, no crime

I wasn't letting up until the day he died

a/n: AHHHH DID YOU LIKE IT? it was kind of a wild ride from start to finish and i definitely shed a few tears while i was writing it. please lmk what you think!

okay, now onto the writing process from hell: i started drafting ideas for the fic on dec. 21 or 22 of 2020, after i put together a mood board. i had written more than half of the fic when i decided i hated it and scrapped the whole thing on xmas eve (~3000 words 🤡). after that i was kinda in a rut and couldn’t decide how i wanted to end the fic so i ended up writing and deleting ~2500 words over the past month and a half. @demxters is an absolute GODDESS and helped me come up with the ending, so i am eternally grateful to her for that. if any of this seems a lil strange it’s probably because i finished writing it at 4:45 a.m. after working on it for 3ish hours straight. have a great day lovelies!

join my tag list!

@dashkana @rogershoe @basicbibitxh @sweetfairyprincess17 @samkysnks @ellxpsismm @pure-ghost @lilyspells @ineedyourskulls @loveheathens @plq-cid @linkpk88 @grace-wade-08 @brithedemonspawn @fanfichoex @wistful-chaos @silveralma @malfoysadore @miss-i-ship-it @sonnydoesrandomshit

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lovemeleo · 3 years

Text

New York State of Mind (Part 2)

I had planned to have this posted earlier but here I am, right before the end of our Peanut’s birthday. Whoops. Here is Part 1 if you haven’t read it yet.

These OCs and their world belong to @lumosinlove.

cw: mentions of food

_________________________________

It took the three of them around 30 minutes to finish getting ready with only minimal interruptions, which honestly wasn’t bad. Sometimes they could take an additional hour if they were distracted enough. But once Finn was reminded of the plans, he was not going to get off track.

Finn knew people didn’t think he was good at presents. They honestly weren’t wrong, he was really bad at buying gifts. He never knew what to buy. But experiences. That he could do. He liked planning things that he thought the people he cared about enjoyed. And his boys. He knew his boys better than anyone. So when it got close to Leo’s birthday, him and Logan sat down and began planning. While Leo was easy to please, and would’ve probably been happy just having dinner at their house, this was 20th birthday. It had to be perfect. And it honestly had been so far.

He watched as his boys pulled on their jackets, tucking wallets and phones into pockets, “Don’t forget gloves. And a hat. Not a snapback, Lo. An actual keep your ears warm hat. We’re walking and I’m not gonna give you mine when you get cold.” Finn announced, pulling his own hat down over his hair. He also made sure to grab a small backpack, just in case they purchased anything while out and that way it was all easier to carry.

“How far we walking, Harz?” Leo asked as he pulled his gloves out of his suitcase, tucking them into his pocket as he followed the other two out of their room to the elevator.

Finn hummed, glancing up from his phone, “Ah, less than three miles. But we’re going to make some touristy stops on the way to the final destination.”

Raising an eyebrow, Leo glanced over at Finn, “Final destination? Sounds sorta ominous, mon rouge.” He said as they made their way out. A wall of cold air hit them as soon as they walked out of the hotel.

Finn began leading the way to 7th Ave, tucking his phone back into his pocket. This was his city, he knew where he was going.

Him and Logan had taken turns planning days during the trip, and today was his day. It was probably his favorite one that he planned. He even kept most of it a secret from Logan.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Leo’s head was constantly on a swivel as he took in the huge busy city. He had been to New York for games, but he never really got to look around or do any of the fun touristy stuff that everyone talks about.

“I know where we’re going.” Logan shouted as he looked around, recognizing the area from when Finn had shown him around. “We’re go-”

A swift elbow to the ribs cut him off as Finn gave him a look, “Don’t tell him!” He interrupted, hooking his arm through Logan’s as they kept walking.

Letting out a chuckle, Leo looked up ahead to see tons of lights and people. His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes lit up with recognition, “That’s Times Square, isn’t it?” He asked, bouncing excitedly on his toes as he picked up the pace a bit.

Finn grinned, dragging Logan along as they tried to keep up with the giant speedwalker, “You got it, baby. We’re gonna do a longer stop here later in the week to look around and shop and such but I figured you’ve gotta get your tourist in Times Square photo to start out with.”

As they finally got into the square, Leo couldn’t help himself as he stopped right in the middle, spinning a bit to try and get a look at everything. He’s seen it in movies and pictures, but those could never do it justice. “This is insane! There’s just so many people.”

Finn took a couple pictures as Leo looked around, a grin spreading across his face, “Peanut, this way. I’ve got the perfect place to take a picture.” He insisted before he began leading the way.

“The top of these stairs is the perfect spot. You can get like all of downtown in the background.” Finn explained excitedly as he led Logan and Leo up to the top. The two boys shared a look as they followed him up, a warm smile on both of their faces as they listened to him talk. “So first we’ll do Leo by himself for his birthday, and then we’ll ask someone to take one of the three of us, okay?”

Leo smiled, making his way up carefully, “Sounds good, sweetheart. This a good spot? Can you get everything in?” He asked, as he leaned on the railing. Finn leaned back with Logan standing behind him to make sure he didn’t fall.

“That’s great, Nutter Butter. Now gimme a big smile!” Finn said, unable to hide the giant grin behind his phone as Leo smiled. He loved that smile. It took over Leo’s face, lighting up whatever area he was in. You couldn’t help but smile right back at him.

Him and Logan both quickly looked at the pictures, smiling as they scrolled through to make sure they came out okay, “Perfect, Sunshine.” Finn said with a soft smile as he looked up at his boyfriend.

As he showed Leo the pictures, Logan found a lady to take the pictures for them. She followed him up the steps with a grin, “Alright, who’s phone should I take it on?” She asked.

Finn quickly switched over to the camera app and handed it over, “Mine please. Thanks so much.” The three of them moved to the top again with Leo in the middle as she situated herself to get the best picture.

“Alright, boys, smile!” She said with a grin. Logan couldn’t have picked a better person, as she seemed to take a bunch for them, moving to get better angles and everything. When she handed the phone back to Finn, there were at least 20 photos taken.

Finn scrolled through them, setting his favorite one as his background before looking back at her, “These are perfect, thank you so much.”

She shrugged with a smile, “It’s no problem at all. Hope you guys have a good rest of your day.” They watched as she headed back to her group.

“Can you send me all of those please?” Leo said, resting his chin on top of Finn’s head as he looked at the cute shots of them. Finn had already created an album on his phone just for pictures from this trip, so he added Logan and Leo in so they would have access.

Looking at his boyfriends, Finn smiled happily, “Y’know, we’re pretty fucking adorable.” He said, holding up his phone background.

Logan shook his head with a laugh before pressing a kiss to Finn’s cheek, “Well yeah, mon rouge. I could’ve told you that.” He said with a smile. It was still weird to be able to kiss or touch in public without worry. They had only come out a month or two ago, so there was still that brief moment of panic of ‘Oh no, did anyone see?’ before realizing that it didn’t matter if they could. It was nice.

“Alright, let’s keep moving. If you see anywhere you want to stop today, we can. We’re actually a bit ahead of schedule.” Finn said as he glanced at his watch. They made their way down the stairs and continued heading down the street.

They hadn’t even made it two blocks down 7th Ave when Logan let out a gasp, his eyes wide as he clutched at Leo’s hand. The taller boy followed his gaze before letting out a laugh. On one side of the street was Hershey’s Chocolate World. The other had M&M’s World.

“Guessing you wanna make a stop, Lo?” Leo asked, squeezing his hand.

Logan looked over at Finn, puppy eyes in full effect, “Pleeeeease, baby. You know how much I love chocolate and it’s Hershey and M&Ms, I promise I won’t be too long! Please please please!” He begged, his hands coming up to squeeze Finn’s cheeks.

Letting out a laugh, Finn nodded, “Of course, Lo. But what if we just do one today? We’ll be coming back this week and that way you don’t have to rush through both of them?”

“Yes! Hershey’s it is! Let’s go!” Logan cheered, quickly making his way to the shop. Leo and Finn quickly walked after him, following his red hat as he ran through the doors. When they got inside, he had stopped in the doorway, eyes practically the size of saucers. The store was covered in different types of Hershey’s chocolate, as well as things like caramel apples covered in Hershey’s chocolate.

Finn chuckled softly as he watched Logan’s face, quickly snapping a couple of photos of the awe on his face. Fingers intertwined with his as Leo came up next to him, snapping a couple pictures of his own, “I’m gonna send a picture to Loops. He’s going to be so jealous.”

“Lo, you okay? I think this might be the quietest I’ve heard you.” Finn asked, nudging his other boyfriend with his hip.

Logan turned to him, eyes still wide, “I think this is heaven.” He whispered.

The two boys couldn’t hide the giant smiles that formed as they watched the shorter man start to wander the store. After the fourth bag of candy was handed to them, they finally relented and grabbed Logan a cart.

“Lo. Babe. Love of our lives. My backpack is only so big. Where do you think we’re going to put all this chocolate?” Finn asked as he leaned on the cart.

Logan shrugged, putting an XL KitKat bar into the cart, “It’s alright, Harz. The nice Hershey’s lady told me I could leave it here and pick it up later.”

Throwing his hands in air, Finn let out a laugh, “Of course she did. Is she gonna let us use the cart to carry it to the hotel?” He shared a fond look with Leo over the cart. In all honesty, he would carry all of the chocolate in the world on his back if it kept that smile on Logan’s face.

After around 30 minutes in the store, Logan had fully filled their cart as well as got on first-name basis with the ‘Nice Hershey’s lady’ who’s actual name was Liz. Now he was finally finished. They left his treasure of treats in the capable hands of Liz before heading back out to the road.

“Alright, now we’re heading to the surprise. It’s about 30 minutes, but it’s a nice walk. We go past part of the park.” Finn said, fixing his hat over his hair again.

They started their trek, stopping every once and awhile to take pictures at various spots like Strawberry Fields and The Dakota. Then they finally arrived, Finn stopping abruptly in front of a cool looking building. He was practically bouncing in place.

“We’re here!” He said, gesturing to the building.

Leo looked up, reading the name across the side of the building, “Rose Center for Earth and Space.” His eyes widened as he turned to look at Finn.

“C’mon then, it’s almost time for our turn.” Finn said with a smile, opening the door for them.

As they walked in, smaller versions of the planets were above their heads. Finn walked up the front desk, talking quietly with the man at the desk who smiled. He looked back at Leo and Logan, “You guys ready?”

Leo was clutching Logan’s hand as he looked around before nodding, “I mean it’s hard to be ready when I have no clue what’s about to happen, but let’s go.”

The man behind the front desk led them to a dark room that had a theater set-up, “Welcome to the Hayden Planetarium. You guys can sit wherever you’d like.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Leo asked as they sat near the middle, staring up at the huge screen.

Smiling, the man shook his head, “This is everyone. You have it to yourselves. Enjoy.” He said before walking out.

“Mon dieu..” Logan said, eyes wide as he looked around.

Finn fiddled with his shirt as he watched their faces, “They were advertising their newest show on the hotel website.. This one is called Journey to the Stars.” He shrugged before looking up at Leo. “Told you I’d bring you the stars, Le.”

Reaching forward, Leo quickly pulled Finn in for a kiss, “Sweetheart..” He murmured, resting his head on the other boy’s forehead.

They pulled apart as the show began to start, sitting back in their chairs. Logan smiled softly, reaching across the back of Leo’s chair to grab Finn’s shoulder, “I don’t think anyone can say you’re bad at gift-giving anymore, Harz.” He whispered.

Leo sniffled softly as he watched the solar system spread around him, the planets and the stars right there in front of him. Finn really got him the stars. His boys took him to New York just for his birthday. The amount of love he felt for them was overwhelming while also never being enough. He would spend the next 20 years and all of the years after that giving his love to these boys.

Watching as the entire universe flew in front of their very eyes, Leo smiled.

Because he already had his entire world. Right next to him.

#leo knut #happy birthday leo knut #lumosinlove #nutter butter #sweater weather #coast to coast #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #lovely boys #fluff #tourist fic #cw: food #fic writing #fic update

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cherryyharryy · 3 years

Note

this request went above the character limit so basically the one with 🌸 is the continuation.. my request is basically an angst to fluff where y/n and harry are together the fans know it’s not confirmed but everyone knows they’re together and she’s been getting lots of hate recently and she’s frustrated and upset harry won’t defend her and she’s pestering him why in a fight and he says something along the lines of “ i don’t want people to know i’m with you” meaning he’s scared if he confirms...

don’t from the one ending in confirms .. he’s basically scared if he confirms y/n is his gf the hate will get worse but she takes it to mean he’s embarrassed by her and essentially gives him an ultimatum kinda ( idk a better word than that) of either he sticks up for her and tells them to stop hating on her or she’s breaking up with him bc she can’t be with someone who can’t bother defending her

*****

Thank you! I liked this idea, but I still feel like I suck at fluff lol. But I hope it’s okay

WC: 1.4K

*******

The starchy scent of cigarettes replaces the bite of pasta you slip into your mouth. You choke down the food and subtly cover your nose, although it does no good.

“Okay?” Harry squints across the table, the spring air catching on a few curls laced together across his forehead.

You nod, but roll your eyes, angling your head to the man sitting not far enough, with a coffee and ultra lights. His face is hidden by a newspaper when you turn to catch a look, smoke escaping from behind. “I can taste it.”

“Yeah that’s kinda rude.”

You wait a moment before speaking. “Yes. It is.”

When you look again, a plump, hairy arm extends across the table to dig the bud into a tea plate. You let your irritation slip away and continue eating, only to double up on your anger when you hear the flick of a lighter once again.

“I’m gonna ask him to stop.”

“Wait.” Harry catches your hand before you stand up. “We can just go inside.”

“What? No, we shouldn’t have to move because he’s being inconsiderate.”

“We’re outside, love, not much anyone can tell him.”

“I can tell him to stop being an ass.” You push away from the table, but Harry grabs your wrist.

“Baby, please, just let it go. Don’t start a scene.”

“A scene?” You settle back into your chair. “Are you kidding?”

“What?”

You suck in a breath, regretfully, as it’s filled with smoke. “Do you have any idea how many times you’ve said something like that to me in the past month?”

“I just don’t want you to draw unwanted attention to yourself.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. The tips of his ears are red, he’s clearly uncomfortable, but you’re in no mood to let him off. “Don’t want you to have to deal with it.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, unsure if answering you is what you even want.

“I’ve had to deal with a lot of shit,” you lower your voice and lean over the table, “and no one even knows for sure that we’re dating.”

“Shhhh.” You see his brows dip down below his sunglasses, frowning behind the tinted frames.

“Oh I’m sorry. Forgot how to act for a minute. Y’know, maybe you should write up a list of rules you want me to follow so I know how to behave.”

You don’t wait for a reply, successfully leaving the table this time as you march off the patio and towards Harry’s car parked down the block. In an alley. Where the two of you waited until foot traffic died down before going to lunch thirty minutes ago.

The door’s locked so you lean against it, shuffling your feet so you’re not in the sun, or in sight of any passersby.

The car beeps before you see Harry round the corner. His head is down until you’re both inside, turning the air on and pulling out onto the street without a word. Until he can’t take it anymore.

“Listen, I know I make things harder, but it’s only for security.”

“Security of what exactly?”

“Us…”

“I’m not sure what security you’re referring to, because I’ve gotten more death threats in the past two weeks than I would have liked.” You roll your head to look at him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“Know that.” He grips the wheel and exhales through clenched teeth. “But it could be worse.”

“I doubt that.” You pull up instagram and scroll through some of the latest comments you’ve gotten, looking for one in particular. Clearing your throat, you recite the message. “I don’t know why you bother with him. It’s sad, how clingy you are and obviously using him. How does it feel to have a dollar sign as a boyfriend? Pathetic. Use that car he gave you to do something useful and run yourself over.”

“Baby, please stop—”

“No, Harry, you have no idea what kind of fucked up things are sent to me. And we haven’t even confirmed anything!”

“I do know! You think I haven’t gotten shitty messages? Like I haven’t been through all this before?”

“Then what’s the point! Why even bother hiding our relationship if none of this goes away? It really hurts when you don’t at least stick up for me when someone makes a snarky comment when we’re in public. Girlfriend or not, I’m a human being, and you just let everything slide so we don’t cause a damn scene.”

“I do too stick up for you!”

“No you don’t! You just suggest we leave. One time you walked away and left me in the middle of a store.”

“I just don’t want people to know we’re together!”

Silence.

Not another word, not another sound until the gate to Harry’s private property screeches open and he pulls up to his house. You’re out of the car before it’s even parked, storming inside with no plan other than to get away from him before you say something you’ll regret.

He calls after you, your name echoing through his huge house, as you make your way up a set of stairs and into a guest room. You slam the door and fling yourself onto the bed, finally letting the tears fall.

He knocks at the door but doesn't wait for your answer, barging in with one last cry of your name. He deflates upon seeing you, crumbles upon hearing your sobs. “Baby.” His hand settles between your shoulder blades as he leans down to brush your hair from your face. “I didn’t mean it like that. Not like it sounds.”

“What the hell could you have meant?” Your words are choppy and tight, catching in your throat before you force them out. “If you’re not gonna defend me, then I can’t have this. Us. I’m not gonna be with someone who cares more about protecting the feelings of complete strangers than his own girlfriend.”

“I do care about you—”

“Like hell you do. That’s why you buy me all kinds of stuff. Make me over so I’m presentable. If you’re that embarrassed to be with me, why would you even ask me out?” A sob takes over. Harry tries rubbing your back, but you shake him off.

“What—embarrassed? The last thing I am is embarrassed. I’m proud to be with you. I love you, and I only buy you stuff because I can afford to do so.” You turn to face him, your vision blurred with tears. “Then why can’t you stick up for me? I’m not asking you to fight with everyone who leaves a negative comment, but something, Harry. I need someone who’s on my team.”

His voice stutters. Similar words he’s used before, referring to the two of you as a team, strike a nerve. He blinks away a few tears of his own. “You’re right. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry I’ve been letting you down.”

You shuffle up on your knees, encouraging him to join you on the bed, and in a hug. “You’ve never let me down. We just haven’t been on the same page with all this.” You sigh, wiping away a few remaining tears. “I understand why you haven’t wanted to say anything, but I think we’re past the point of keeping us a secret.”

“Was tryin’ to hold onto that as long as I could.”

You both climb off the bed, and Harry takes your hand, pulling you into his chest.

“We can have privacy without secrecy.”

He kisses your head. “May not be as private as you think.”

“I know…” You step back to look up at him, letting your hands slip down his arms to rest in his palms. “But it’ll take a little pressure off.”

His brows raise in thought, and he drops your hand to pull his phone from his jacket. Without a word, he scrolls through his photos until he finds one he likes, holding it up for you to see. “My favorite.”

Next thing you know, he’s posting the picture of you two from a few weeks ago—when you’d gone out to dinner with Jeff and Glenne, all dressed up with less than sober smiles on your faces—to Instagram.

“It feels weird now,” you mumble.

“Don’t tell me you change your mind?” Harry chuckles.

“No, no—I’m happy. Proud to call you mine.”

“Never gonna let you feel like I don’t have your back,” he leans down to kiss your nose, “ever. Promise.”

#requested #harrystyles #cherryyharryy #harry styles blurb #requests

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sevlgi · 3 years

Text

would it be so bad

requested: yes

group: twice

pairing: tzuyu x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

contents: hogwarts!au, quidditch player!tzuyu, rivals!au. [23/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: You’ve never exactly been the bright kind, at least not when it comes to love. Would it be so bad to realize your feelings for your partner in crime, though?

a/n: i decided to make the reader’s house ambiguous lol but i hope you enjoy! (also i realize that this isn’t british english, please excuse my idiot american english). i was originally gonna post this tomorrow in time for “cry for me”, but i realized that i should be respectful to jonghyun, and i will not be posting tomorrow ❤

word count: 5.3k

“Tzuyu Chou and Y/N Y/L/N. Why is it that whenever something happens, it is always you two?”

The Slytherin standing beside you in McGonagall’s office stood as impassive as ever, no emotion to be found in her blank expression or her perfect posture. Perhaps that was a thing that Snape taught to his favorite students-- the ability to wipe any guilt or liability off your face in an instant, to stay steadfast in any situation.

Or maybe that was just Tzuyu’s own charm, you noted as you swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet, turning slightly so that you could view her side profile in your peripheral vision. Merlin’s balls, she’s gorgeous, you sighed to yourself, unable to take your eyes off the girl who had been your rival since before birth.

Instantly, you regretted it. “Y/L/N! Have something to say to Ms. Chou?” the professor snapped, the book she threw to the desk making a sharp cracking noise as you faced her again with your fingers knotted behind your back.

“No, ma’am,” you answered, moving your hand to zip your lips shut. Despite McGonagall’s exasperated sigh, a smile quirked at the corner of her lips; she’d always been kinder than she expressed on the outside, and that seemed to be no exception when it came to you.

“You do realize that you can’t get away with decimating the Quidditch pitch, do you?” The witch sat sternly at her desk, a quill scribbling on parchment of its own accord beside her. “It’ll cost thousands of Galleons to repair, and it may not even be possible to do so before the season begins. The two of you collapsed it!”

Tzuyu spoke for the first time since being called into the Headmaster’s office, her eyes still trained on the wall next to McGonagall’s head. “If I may. I believe I did more damage.”

“That is not a thing to be proud of!” Standing, the woman clenched her fists tightly and you smiled at the affect the two of you were able to have on her. No one had seemed to infuriate her quite so much since James Potter; even the Weasley twins were overshadowed as soon as you and Tzuyu sat on the Sorting Hat’s stool. “I realize that you may think you’re carrying on your families’ legacies, or that you’re gaining fame for your antics, but you will not pass your 6th year if you keep this up. I will make sure of it personally.”

“Understood, Headmaster,” you bowed. Your voice was still noticeably singsong-y, and McGonagall bristled at the tone, but she said nothing as Tzuyu followed your lead in dipping her head. “Won’t happen again.”

Had it been any of the other teachers, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been allowed to leave without a year’s detention, but the Headmaster merely pursed her lips and waved her office door open. “Very well. I expect to see you in Transfiguration tomorrow and not caving in the North Tower.”

And as soon as the (not-so) imposing wooden doors slammed shut behind the two of you, Tzuyu raised an eyebrow. “Did you mean it when you said it wouldn’t happen again?”

“Of course not,” you grinned in response, relaxing into a comfortable slouch again. “I just meant we wouldn’t collapse the Quidditch Pitch again. It’s too boring to do the same thing twice.”

She scoffed and followed as you swayed down the hallway, her voice a bit too quiet to echo off the stone walls like yours did. “Of course. And what exactly do you have next, Y/L/N? You won’t be able to one-up my Hogsmeade stunt, I’ll have you know. My parents taught me well.”

“Your parents were nowhere close to mine,” you sniffed, stopping to wave at Fred Weasley’s portrait on the wall. He wasn’t inside, of course, probably off to bother someone, but you liked seeing the heaps of unused pranks piled underneath the frame as offerings. “Which means that you’ll never get on my level either.”

Tzuyu easily caught up to you with her long legs, the slightly-too-short Slytherin robe swishing about her ankles. But no matter how much she annoyed you, the wintery sunlight shined brilliantly on the planes of her face, pooling in the dark color of her eyes. There was that kind of beauty to her that instantly told you she was a Slytherin, a kind of untouchable coldness that didn’t match the warmth hidden inside her heart. “Tell that to the amount of detention I’ve been forced to do,” she protested. “I had hours last week, while you--”

“Never seen a Slytherin so eager to serve detention.” Fred had returned, leaning on an empty portrait’s wall with a familiar smirk on his face. “Y/L/N, Tzuyu. Any mischief to let me in on?”

“McGonagall nabbed us for wrecking the Quidditch Pitch,” Tzuyu rushed to explain before you, a hint of pride sparking in her eyes when she beat you to the punch. “It’s collapsed. And all my doing.”

“Your-” You shoved her, hands colliding with her arm slightly harder than you meant to. But you didn’t bother to apologize, declaring, “I’ll have you know that I did more. I collapsed two of the bleachers, for Merlin’s sake!”

Fred watched the exchange with amusement, egging you on when Tzuyu glared at you. “Go on, pick a fight. You’re right outside old Flitwick’s classroom, though. I’m sure he won’t be too happy for the resident couple of troublemakers to interrupt lecturing first years on Charms.”

“We aren’t a couple,” Tzuyu blurted, stepping back from where she’d been inches away from your throat with her wand. You stared at her in confusion; when had Fred mentioned the two of you to be dating? “Just-- I don’t even like her.”

There was an all-knowing smile on the portrait’s face that you didn’t like, an expression that must’ve been passed on to his nephews as well judging by how often you saw it. “I know. Didn’t even mention that, really.”

“Yeah, Tzuyu, the hell?” When she avoided your gaze, you sighed and grabbed her arm, ignoring how she attempted to pull away at first. “Well, good seeing you, Fred. I’ll let you know how the next attempt goes.”

“Good luck!” he called out as you left. “She’s a stubborn one.”

You stopped at one of the arches leading out to the courtyard, your back to the students idly roaming. Tzuyu still avoided your gaze, crossing her arms and running her thumb over the engravings on her wand. “Hey. What was that about, Chou?”

She hesitated to answer even with her lips parted, and the bell that rang loudly in your ears served as her excuse. “Well, you heard it. Time for potions, don’t want to fail out.”

She walked off, ignoring the group of 4th year boys staring at her with parchment scrolls crumpled in their hands. But your brow was knitted as you stared at her retreating silhouette, and at the way that she walked too fast to notice Dahyun and Chaeyoung raising their hands to wave at her. “Since when have you cared about that?”

Mina and Chaeyoung were disgustingly adorable at the dining table, but you were grateful enough for their company that you didn’t really care. “Maybe we should get Tzuyu’s ears checked,” Mina chuckled as she took a bite of the cake that her girlfriend fed her. “It’s not unlike Fred to say those things, but it is unlike her to take it so seriously.”

“Right? I didn’t think he was insinuating us to be a couple at all,” you frowned, digging into the treacle tart that you’d been picking at for the past hour. To be honest, you weren’t all that hungry, your mind only fixated on your friend/rival. “Do you think something else is going on?”

Chaeyoung shrugged, lips jutting out in a pout as she thought. “If it was anyone else, I’d think she was shaken up from being lectured by McGonagall. But it’s you two, so I doubt it. Double Troublemakers, aren’t you?”

“Double Troublemakers,” you snickered. “Jeongyeon really didn’t know what she was doing, coming up with that name first year.”

Jeongyeon herself, passing by on Nayeon’s arm, shouted out in protest and threw a balled-up handkerchief at your head. “Watch out, Y/N, I’m not scared of you and your pranks.”

“You should be,” you shouted back, incinerating the ball with a simple spell. “Tzuyu’s not going to protect you from me!”

“Hey, hey, speaking of Tzuyu, shouldn’t you be helping her with a potion right now?” Mina mentioned, tapping your arm. “I think you promised to help her at half past seven, and it’s already eight.”

Your eyes widened to the size of a house elf’s, and you scrambled up. “Oh, bloody hell. Thanks for the reminder, she’s going to be pissed.”

Chaeyoung commented offhandedly, “I don’t think she’ll be too pissed off at you.” But you didn’t pay too much mind, rushing out into the icy hallway and leaving your half-finished dessert behind with your friends. You cursed yourself for not bringing your scarf to dinner as you rushed to the Potions wing; for whatever reason, Snape insisted on charming that specific tower to be at the level of the Arctic Ocean. Tzuyu never seemed to mind, but it wasn’t comfortable when you only had your house robes to protect you from the chill.

The door banged into the stone wall unflatteringly, but the Slytherin girl didn’t even bother to look up from her cauldron. “Tzuyu, I’m so sorry--”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” she sighed, flashing you a quick smile as she snapped her book shut. “Just gave me some more time to memorize the potion.”

As you rounded the corner of the huge table, you peered at the array of ingredients laid out. Potions had never been your strong suit-- you’d usually been too busy pranking Jihyo than listening-- and you had no clue what you were supposed to be making whatsoever. “Uh. How am I supposed to help you if I don’t have a recipe?”

Tzuyu raised her eyebrow slightly at you, tying her hair up loosely and motioning for you to do the same as she lit a flame under the cauldron. “Just do what I tell you. It’s not difficult. Besides, I’m going to be working with Dahyun on this, I need to practice how to give directions.”

“Are you jabbing at my Potions skills, Chou?” you rolled your eyes, taking off your cloak. Despite the chill of the potions wing, the other girl had evidently cast a spell that made it boiling hot in the classroom, leaving you in a normal sweater embroidered with the crest of your house.

She didn’t answer, handing you a plant to cut open inside. “By the way. You aren’t wearing any perfume, are you?” Tzuyu asked suddenly, avoiding your gaze as she ground pearl dust even finer in a stone mortar. “It distracts me, don’t look at me like that.”

“You being close enough to smell my perfume is out of the ordinary,” you snorted in response, sprinkling the peppermint into the boiling water. “But no. I’m not wearing any.”

The thing about working with Tzuyu was that everything usually ended up in silence. Not uncomfortable silence, but the kind that made you focus on the way that the candles cast a warm light onto the wooden tables, and the kind that made you notice the smell of the opened potion books. As the girl stirred in more and more ingredients, though, and as colored steam rose from the cauldron, the musty scent of parchment and tinny metal was replaced with--

A clatter sounded as Tzuyu shoved the cauldron over, the potion fizzing when it met the table. You could only stare as your hard work spilled out of the pewter cauldron rolling on the table, but the other girl spoke before you. “O-oh. I’m sorry, I think you should go. I can clean this up myself.”

“I... are you sure? I can help,” you offered, reaching for your robes nonetheless.

“I’m fine. Go.” Her voice was strange, like she wanted to say something to you but was holding it in, but you didn’t comment on it. Despite everything the two of you had been through together, you realized that you didn’t really have a right to ask more out of the girl; you didn’t know her outside of bickering, after all.

When you closed the classroom door softly behind you, though, you realized that you could still smell the potion’s aftermath in a cloud around you. Kerosene, like the kind you used to blow up the stadium a week ago, bitter chocolate, and the faintest hint of the house elves’ kitchen when you snuck in to steal Tzuyu’s favorite bread.

It was the kind of familiar that made you miss it while it was still here, like a ghost that you couldn’t grasp and hold close to your heart in the way that you desperately wished you could. And it made you stare at the closed door of the classroom, listen closer to the sound of Tzuyu mopping up the spilled potion by hand even though she didn’t have to.

It was weird, that’s what it was.

Momo and Nayeon clutched onto each other as you shined the light of your wand into the dark. Tzuyu was just behind you with her own wand held overhead; you were pretty sure that you could see Sana clutching onto the Slytherin’s arm and cowering behind the tallest girl of the group. “Are... are you sure that this is a good idea?” Jihyo asked, her voice uncharacteristically small.

“Ah, come on. It’s one of the Marauders’ abandoned tunnels, who knows what we could find?” you persuaded, turning back to grin at them. When no one reciprocated, you switched to a pout instead. “Rude.”

“We’ll split like this.” Tzuyu waved her wand between the eight remaining girls, parting them like the red sea into two groups. “Nayeon and Momo, you split, you’re too scared to be in one group together. Y/N and I will go together.”

Dahyun wiggled her eyebrows at that. “Ooh. Together, huh? Just the two of you?”

Even in the darkness of the tunnel, you could see Tzuyu’s cheeks flush brightly. She stabbed her wand in front of her in an attempt to shine the light away from her face, muttering out, “Let’s go.”

You waved goodbye at your friends, being tugged forward by the Slytherin girl and nearly tripping over the tree roots winding through the tunnel. “H-hey, why’re you walking so fast? Trying to kill me, Chou?”

“If I killed you, there wouldn’t be any fun in prank wars.” She glanced back at you, eyes straying to the map that you had clutched in your hand. “Where’d you get that, by the way?”

“Fred,” you answered, waving the scroll around. It was stained, of course, with the pumpkin juice that Sana had spilled on you that morning, and with the ink that you had smeared when copying down the Weasley’s overly complicated instructions. “He said that something in here’s going to help us with whatever we plan to do next.”

Tzuyu frowned at you slightly, still pushing aside cobwebs and vines to forge further down the tunnel. “Did you tell him about the rig we’re going to set up for McGonagall?”

You shrugged and peered down at a cockroach skittering over the dirty ground. “Of course not. Fred may be a legend, but legends don’t get treated any differently when it comes to knowledge about Double Trouble’s plans.”

“I hate that name.” Tzuyu stepped through another archway into a tiny cave, a rough stone throne with a button on the armchair the only thing inside. She flicked her eyes over, nodding her head at the chair. “This it?”

You lunged forward, pressing down on the button before you could have any regrets. “Only one way to know.”

And-- nothing happened whatsoever. Your partner in crime stood there with crossed arms, the backs of her calves almost hitting the stone of the throne. “What’s supposed to happ--”

A strong gust of wind, stronger than anything you’d ever felt before, punched all the breath out of you and sent you flying, the force of your body knocking Tzuyu onto the chair. To prevent injury, your hands flew out in front of you and pressed into the crumbly dirt wall on either side of Tzuyu’s head, your knees probably bruising with how hard they hit the stone.

When you opened your eyes, previously squeezed shut, you found yourself sitting on the lap of the Slytherin girl, her hands hovering on either side of your waist and your foreheads almost pressed together. She looked somewhat shocked, eyes wide and her breath shivering on your lips.

Before you could apologize and scramble off, though, you were interrupted by someone coughing at the entrance. “Dahyun’s right, apparently.”

You leaped off of Tzuyu’s lap faster than you could’ve thought possible, heat burning at your ears when you found Jeongyeon and Nayeon smirking at the entrance at the cave. “S-so. Uh. You found anything?” you questioned, attempting not to look directly at either of them.

“Nah,” Jeongyeon answered after a pause, apparently feeling merciful. “I think Fred was messing with you.”

“Damn,” you breathed out, adjusting the collar of your sweater to be perfectly straight. All of a sudden, it was too warm underground, and the heavy robe you wore was pulling you down into the ground. Maybe that last part was wishful thinking. “Let’s go, then. I’ll go get Momo’s group,” you volunteered, brushing past your friends into the tunnels again.

Tzuyu didn’t follow, thankfully, because you didn’t need anything else confusing your senses with the smell of kerosene, chocolate, and sourdough bread wafting past your nose already.

“GO MOMO!”

You cheered louder than anyone else in the bleachers, maybe except for Jihyo, who was practically hanging off the railing as she waved a banner for your Hufflepuff friends.

Chaeyoung laughed, her nose bright red in the winter chill. Sana and Momo waved at you and all her friends as they strolled out with the rest of her team, hands gloved and what seemed to be 3 scarves wrapped around both of their necks. But you were holding in the loudest cheer of all for when the Slytherin team descended to the pitch, and you raised your voice even more when Tzuyu appeared with her broom in her hand.

Unlike Jihyo, she looked nervous, face drawn tight as she stopped with the rest of her team on the grass. She only wore her usual green robes, wisps of caramel brown hair fluttering about her face, but she was more stunning than anyone else in the entirety of Hogwarts. “CHOU TZUYU, YOU KICK THEIR ASSES!”

She looked up in surprise at your shout, a small smile coming onto her face when she spotted you clustered among your friends, all dressed in contrasting house colors but cheering for the same people. You only waved harder when she stared at you, almost hitting Jihyo in the face when you swung both arms in opposite directions.

And when the game started, it was just as chaotic as it ever was to be sitting on the bleachers. Jihyo, who played for Gryffindor, and Chaeyoung for the Ravenclaw team, were thankfully undivided this time, merely screaming their friends’ names instead of houses. Usually, you were next to someone much quieter in their support, a certain Slytherin who was dominating the field instead.

“And Tzuyu scores! Brilliant Chaser, this one, and gorgeous, too, if Y/L/N would just take the hint!” Felix shouted out at the announcer’s podium, his usually growling voice higher pitched to be heard over the crowd’s shouts.

No one seemed to hear him, not even your friends as they thrusted the Slytherin banner up in the air and whooped. You and Tzuyu both stopped in your tracks, staring blankly at the tiny blonde dot that was Lee Felix. For the Chaser, though, it turned out to be much more dangerous, as a Bludger hit by a Hufflepuff Beater slammed into her right below her right arm.

Everything went silent, a dolphin-like tone ringing in your ears as you watched Tzuyu plummet down to the ground. With the way her hair streamed in the wind, you’d think she was floating, but you were cruelly brought back to reality when she hit the ground like a bag of loose bones, a sharp whistle from Madam Hooch making time move normally again.

“Tzuyu,” you gasped, stumbling back into Dahyun, who didn’t complain. “Tz--”

“Three fractured ribs, along with a completely shattered wrist. Can someone tell me what she was looking at?”

Your nails tightened on the skin of your palms as you stared at the wrinkled bedsheet underneath Tzuyu’s good hand, your foot tapping relentlessly against the tile of the hospital wing. Perhaps Jihyo and Mina, talking quietly with Madam Pomfrey, didn’t think you could hear them talk, but every word of theirs echoed unfortunately loudly in the otherwise empty wing. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Tzuyu, or at the violent purple bruises all along her right side, or at her frail and newly healed wrist cradled to her chest as she slept.

“I’m sorry, Madam Pomfrey. Sana... Sana and I asked Felix to say it as a joke, we didn’t think that Tzuyu would be so surprised,” Jihyo sighed. “And we didn’t think that Steelman would take advantage and hit her so hard.”

Pomfrey was quiet for a second, and the jagged tip of your nails nearly ripped your skin as you waited for one of them to speak. “I see. Well, I do believe you had good intentions, all of you. I will be speaking with Ms. Steelman about her actions, but Quidditch is tough sometimes. Please, refrain from asking Mr. Lee to play such jokes from now on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mina joined you first, her hand a comforting weight on your shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, Y/N.”

“Who said I was blaming myself?” you laughed listlessly, shaking your head. “Who am I kidding? I am blaming myself. Because it’s my fault. It isn’t Felix’s for playing an innocent joke, and it isn’t Jihyo and Sana’s--”

Jihyo shook her head as she knelt near you, her head obstructing the view of Tzuyu’s sleep-peaceful expression. “Y/N, please. You couldn’t have gotten there on time. It’s none of our faults, okay? Besides, we shouldn’t... we shouldn’t have rushed you on this.”

“What?” you blinked up at your friends. “Rushed me?”

They exchanged looks, Mina closing her mouth when the Gryffindor girl shook her head in warning. “I think it’s best for you to find it out on your own time. Because you will,” Jihyo smiled. “I have faith in you, Y/N. Now, don’t stay here too late, Pomfrey will take care of Tzuyu just fine.”

“Seriously,” Mina warned as she retreated, the sympathy in her eyes the last thing that you wanted to see. “Sleep early!”

You raised a hand in farewell, sighing and leaning back in your chair once they were gone. Your friends meant well, of course, and you genuinely didn’t blame anyone for the incident, but you couldn’t help but think about what you could’ve done to save Tzuyu. There must’ve been some spell, some prank mechanism that would’ve done something...

And just like that, hours passed. The sky had begun to turn back to cloudy blue-grey from the black of the night by the time you found your head drooping onto your arms; you had draped one of the blankets that Pomfrey left behind over your own shoulders, your hair loose and splaying out at the foot of the bed when your friend woke up. “Y/N?”

Blinking blearily, you found Tzuyu staring blankly at you. “Why’re you still here? It’s almost dawn.”

There should have only been one answer at the tip of your tongue-- “I was worried” or “I couldn’t leave you alone” or something normal-- but instead, you found answers to questions that you didn’t remember asking just begging to be let out.

Because the potion that you had made all those weeks ago was Amortentia, and it smelled like the kerosene that you used in so many prank wars with Tzuyu, and the bitter chocolate she tried to convince you to like. It smelled like the bread that you stole from the house elves to cheer her up, and it smelled like the vanilla hand lotion that you bought for her on Valentine’s day in 3rd year.

And she asked you whether you were wearing perfume because she wanted to know if Amortentia smelled like you for her, and Tzuyu must’ve knocked the cauldron over because it did. Because--

“You love me.”

You didn’t expect the jolt that shook the entire hospital bed, the Slytherin girl jerking back like you had burned her with your words. “I... what?” Her eyes darted back and forth as she bit down on her lip, almost scrambling back as your eyes began to shine with a revelation that turned your entire world upside down. “Y/N, what’re you talking about?”

Her fists were ice cold in your hands, her expression unrelenting as you attempted to persuade her to admit the truth that should’ve made sense all along. “Your Amortentia smelled like me, didn’t it? Because mine smelled like kerosene, and... and bread, and everything you like. And you reacted so intensely when Fred called us a couple because you like me,” you breathed with the biggest grin of your life on your face. “No, because you love me.”

Tzuyu shook her head and snatched her hands out of your grasp, clutching the bedsheets closer to her chest as if that would protect her from you or something. “You aren’t making sense right now, Y/N. I.. I want you to leave. Before you confuse me further.”

You stared at her for a good twenty seconds, at the girl who was avoiding your eyes like you had told her you’d murdered her mother. “Wh-what?”

“I want you to leave.” The Chaser’s voice sounded steady, but it wasn’t confident in the way that you knew it to be. There was something lying underneath that made her voice that of a stranger to you, and you obeyed it as you stood.

“Okay.”

Not another word slipped from your lips as you made your way out of the Hospital Wing, standing on the balcony of a silent castle with blankets still wrapped around your shoulders.

That definitely wasn’t how you expected anything to go.

For nearly a week, you spent your free blocks alone, poring mindlessly over all your books by the Great Lake. Nothing you read actually stuck in your mind, though, the words floating before your eyes in hurricanes of black ink. No matter how much Chaeyoung or Momo attempted to convince you, you wouldn’t go back to the hospital wing; instead, you asked Mina for updates, probably the only one of your friends who you knew wouldn’t pressure you to talk to Tzuyu.

Groaning, you collapsed down onto the grass, flicking your quill away from you. It wasn’t fun devising pranks and coming up with plans to rig the Headmaster’s office without her, and there was no real lure in winning when there was no one to win against. Instead of thinking about the water that you wanted to splatter down on McGonagall, you could only think about how to apologize to your friend, how to take back a truth that you weren’t sure you could forget yourself.

But with the way that she responded, could it mean that you were right? Was it possible that Tzuyu really loved you, and you... you really loved her back?

“Y/N?”

Your head jerked to look at the source of your voice, a crack sounding when you turned too fast. “Ow,” you mumbled, raising your hand up to cup the back of your neck. However, you were completely fixated on the slightly paler-looking girl, standing just a few feet away from you. “Uh. Hey?”

“Hey,” she smiled. So she’s not angry. Tzuyu wasn’t wearing her characteristic expensive robes for once, dressed instead in a pretty skirt that was too cold for the lakeside and a black coat slung over her shoulders. “You didn’t come to visit me.”

Shrugging, you reached over and cleared your books away for her to sit. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she frowned, plopping down beside you and crossing her legs. “You’re my friend.”

“Friend, huh?” You chuckled listlessly, leaning back with your arms supporting you. The surface of the Great Lake rippled softly, and you wondered whether there really was a squid inside that could drag you away from the awkwardness sitting between the two of you. “That’s it?”

Tzuyu laid her hand over yours, her skin cold from the spring weather. She almost looked like she pitied you even though she was the one fresh out of the hospital wing, and you hated that expression on her. “What do you mean? Should there be something else?”

If you were slightly less impulsive, you wouldn’t be scrambling to your feet, crossing you arms to stare in disbelief at the beautiful girl sitting cross-legged mere feet away from the Whomping Willow. “Are you serious? Tzuyu, are you just going to ignore everything we-- everything I said that night?”

She stood as well, her hands still reaching out for yours and her eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, I wasn’t going to ignore it, I just don’t know how to talk about it. That.”

You scoffed, jerking away from her grasp. Some part of you thanked Merlin that you were alone, because you didn’t know if you wanted your friends witnessing anything that you knew was about to go down. “That. Answer me something, Chou. Would it be so bad to be with me? To admit that... that you love me. And I love you back?”

Tzuyu froze, her hands faltering in midair. “You love me back?”

“Of course I do!” And suddenly, you were rushing forward to meet her again, eyes pleading for her to understand how genuine you were being. “I meant it when I said so, and Amortentia doesn’t lie. Tell me, what did your potion smell like?”

She stammered out, “B- burning books. From the time we set the library on fire, and the stupid perfume you wear. Ink, because you refuse to use the pens that Jeongyeon bought you, and--”

You still paused a second before connecting your lips, giving Tzuyu time to back out, but she might’ve moved even faster than you so that her hands were wrapped around your waist. She tasted like chocolate and bread, too, and you smiled into the kiss when you realized that she probably stole from the kitchen before coming to find you.

The long, winding roots of some tree tripped you over, your back colliding with the grassy ground with a loud thump, but you didn’t care as the Slytherin girl landed right on top of you. “To-- to answer your question. It wouldn’t be bad at all, to be with you,” Tzuyu laughed breathily, her smile so much brighter than you ever remembered it to be. “I love you, Y/N.”

And instead of responding, you pulled her in again, lips moving against hers for maybe a minute before you were surprised by a bug that Tzuyu held up against your face. “Chou Tzuyu, you devil!”

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bumblebee-moreno · 3 years

Text

Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

#Din djarin #Javier Peña #Agent Whiskey #Frankie Morales #Max Phillips #marcus pike #marcus moreno #gender neutral reader #gn reader #pedro pascal

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dickspeightjrs · 3 years

Text

Confessions of a Roommate in Love (college au / 3.1k words / roommates)

ao3 link

During college you’ll do anything to earn a bit of extra cash between classes.

Ash does computer shit for people (Dean has learned not to ask about how legal it all his work is). Jo works in her mom, Ellen’s, bar. Benny hustles pool in said bar (while avoiding Ellen’s wrath).

But Dean and Castiel do something a little different.

They enter trials and experiments posted around their university’s psychology and science departments. The psychology department, especially, knows them pretty well by now. It’s got to the point where they’ll just go straight to Dean and Castiel and ask if they’re interested.

So that has what led Dean to racing into their apartment one Tuesday afternoon in their final year with a look of sheer childish glee on his face.

Castiel is laying back on the sofa working on something but looks up from his laptop at the slam of the door and squints at Dean’s expression. He can never quite trust that Dean’s gleeful looks won’t end in tears eventually. But whatever Dean usually suggests Castiel will go along with because that’s what best friends do.

“They’re doing another research project in the Psych department. Charlie emailed me the details.” Dean explains.

Castiel’s interest is clearly piqued and he closes his laptop, moving to sit properly on the sofa to give Dean room to sit down next to him.

“She said there’s a few stages to it. We’ve got to enter some video submission thing first to see if we’re the right fit and then they’ll invite us in for the real thing. Pretty much like the rest of them.” Dean shrugs, taking the offered seat next to Castiel.

He pulls up the email on his phone and scrolls straight to the specific information for potential participants. They’ve done so many of these things that he tends to scroll right past most of the generic information.

Castiel’s interested gaze stays on him.

“Ah, here it is.” Dean quickly scans the text before reading it out. “So it’s a study about roommates and looks like we have to just answer a few questions about each other. Easy.” Dean grins.

“What kind of questions do we have to answer?” Castiel asks.

“Just basic ones about living together - who’s the messiest,” Dean snorts, “that’s you.”

Castiel makes an offended noise and plucks Dean’s phone out of his hand. “I think you’ll find that’s you actually. I don’t think your socks have ever made it to the laundry basket.”

Dean watches as Castiel scrolls through the rest of the questions. He lets out the occasional chuckle at some of the questions - even the tiniest of laughs lights up his face.

Eventually, Castiel hands Dean back his phone. “They’re definitely easy questions. I’ll just pack my study stuff away and we can get started on the video. It’ll be better to submit it as soon as possible.” Castiel rises to his feet and collects his laptop in his arms. He’s about to walk down the hall to his bedroom when he turns back to face Dean. “I’m glad this one is about roommates. Given the amount of times we’ve had to pretend to be a couple for these things,” he chuckles and goes to his room, not waiting for a response from Dean.

Dean’s glad Castiel has left and can’t see his face fall from a fake smile.

Castiel is right. There have been a few times when they’ve participated in research studies and posed as a couple. But what Castiel doesn’t know is that there was no faking on Dean’s part.

Truthfully, Dean is hopelessly and completely in love with Castiel.

It’s so unbelievably cliche that Dean can’t quite believe it’s actually true. But it is.

Ever since they first met, there has been something about Castiel that seems to complete Dean in ways that he never knew he needed.

Despite successfully pretending to be a couple, Dean has never told Castiel how he feels. Risking their friendship is too much. The chance that he could ruin everything between them is too big.

So he stays quiet. Living in the hope that it will blow over one day and he’ll find someone who will love him back the way he wants to be loved.

“Dean, are you listening?”

Dean blinks back to reality and sees Castiel standing in front of him. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to use your phone or mine?” Castiel looks at him quizzically. “Unless you’re not feeling up to it right now? We can do it later.”

God bless Castiel for being concerned for Dean all the time.

“Nah, man.” Dean clears his throat and mentally shakes himself. “I’ll have the questions on my phone, so I guess we could use your phone to film it.”

Castiel nods, though he still looks a little skeptical that Dean is actually okay. “I’ll go and get my tripod for my phone.”

Dean smiles and waits for Castiel to be gone from the room before he takes a deep breath and casts any thoughts of his true feelings away. It’s not Castiel’s fault Dean feels this way, and Dean isn’t going to take it out on the guy by acting weird.

Castiel returns and effortlessly sets up the camera to record.

Having done submission videos like this before, Dean doesn’t feel self conscious about the feeling of having a camera on him anymore.

Instead, he looks over the email again.

Castiel drops himself down on the couch next to Dean and naturally lets their knees touch. Dean keeps his eyes focused on the phone in his hand.

“So it says we have to answer these questions as quick as we can. Don’t think too much about the answers.” Dean explains.

Castiel nods in understanding.

“Right, let’s get started.” Dean says. “First question: Who makes the most noise?”

“Dean.”

“Yeah it is me.” Dean has to admit. “It’s the music. Gotta start the day with listening to some classic rock.”

Castiel snorts. “Yes but you don’t only start the day with classic rock. You end with it too. And you play it when you study. And shower. And when you’re sad.”

Dean blushes a little at the thought of Castiel knowing when Dean is sad and when he listens to music to cope with it.

He clears his throat. “Okay, next question.”

* * *

It’s another couple of days before an email pings itself into Dean’s inbox telling him that he and Castiel are through to the next stage of the study.

Dean hasn’t thought about his feelings for Castiel since they filmed the video and he’s very happy to keep it that way.

He’s sat in the living room watching the new episode of Dr Sexy when Castiel comes through the door after his last class of the day. He looks tired and completely adorable.

“Hey, man. Got an email today, we’re through to the next stage. You free tomorrow afternoon?”

Castiel doesn’t reply straight away. Instead he trudges over to the couch and flops down next to Dean. The dude must really be as tired as he looks because he sighs and rests his weary head on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean resists the urge to rest his head on Castiel’s in return. “You okay there, Cas?” He asks, looking down at Castiel’s head of dark hair.

“I’ve had a long day. That last final nearly killed me. I swear to god.” Castiel groans.

As much as Dean loves Castiel, the dude can be a real drama queen when he wants to be.

“Come on, man, you’ve aced all your finals and you know it. You’re the smartest guy I know.”

Castiel abruptly lifts his head from Dean’s shoulder and looks his friend in the eyes. “Thank you, Dean,” he says, sincerity shining in his eyes. His eyes seem to flicker down to Dean’s momentarily but Dean is sure it must just have been the lights or something.

Dean swallows and coughs before he does something stupid. “Anyway, you free tomorrow then?”

Castiel clears his throat too and shifts away from Dean’s personal space a little. “Yes, I am free all day. I was just planning to sleep now that finals are over. But it’ll be nice to see what happens with Charlie’s research project.”

Dean nods. “Awesome, I’ll text Charlie and tell her we’re free.”

Text sent, Dean returns his attention to Dr Sexy, who is making out with yet another intern on screen. What Dean wouldn’t give to be one of those interns.

He almost forgets that Castiel hasn’t actually left the living room until he feels a soft weight fall onto his shoulder again. He looks to see that Castiel has fallen asleep on the couch next to him. Now Castiel’s head has slipped down and rested itself against Dean’s arm.

Any normal roommate would wake Castiel up and tell him to go to his room and get some sleep. But Dean just can’t bring himself to disturb Castiel’s peaceful slumber. Finals must have really knocked it out of him.

And if Dean gets a little joy out of having Castiel this close to him, well that’s no one else’s business but his own.

* * *

“Okay I just need you guys to sign a few documents before we get started.” Charlie explains. “I know you’ve seen most of these before with the other studies but there’s a couple new ones in there so make sure you look at them carefully. Dean.” She raises an eyebrow at him.

Dean looks up from where he’d been scanning the papers Charlie handed them when they walked into the classroom. His face is a picture of perfect innocence and offence of being accused of such things.

“Don’t pull that face, Dean. Charlie is right, you can be rather lackadaisical with important documentation.” Castiel says, his eyes never leaving the papers he’s reading.

Trust Castiel to know exactly how Dean would react without even looking at him. And lackadaisical? Who even says that? God, Castiel is such a fucking dork.

Papers thoroughly read and signed, Charlie takes Dean and Castiel into a smaller room with two stools next to each other in the middle. A pretty simple set up compared to some of the things they’ve been part of.

“Take a seat. It doesn’t matter which seat you take, just make sure you’re both facing me.” Charlie instructs.

Both boys do as asked.

“Okay, from now on neither of you can talk to the other. You can only talk to me. Understand?”

Dean and Castiel give identical nods.

“Good. This is the first stage. There is another one after and we will give you more information about that once this one is finished.” Charlie continues. “Much like your video submission, for this round you will be answering questions based on living together.”

Dean tries to concentrate on what Charlie is saying but the stools really are close together and Castiel’s knee is knocking against his own. The small spot of warmth from the other man both relaxes and makes Dean anxious at the same time. But Dean daren’t move his leg away. Castiel would wonder why he’d moved away and probably get a little pouty frown on his face. The same as he did the night before when Dean had finally got up from the couch because he needed the bathroom.

“And remember, the main rule of these questions is: what happens in this room stays in the room. Got it?”

Dean swallows and nods. He’d missed a bit of what Charlie had said but he’d probably figure it out.

“Awesome. Let’s begin.” Charlie smiles. “First question: what do you like most about living together?”

Dean knows what he’d like to answer but he’ll never confess. Instead, he goes for a more playful answer. “I like that Castiel gets free donuts from his job at the coffee shop.”

From the corner of his eye he can see Castiel roll his eyes. “I like that Dean has a brother that I can have much more intellectually stimulating conversations with,” Castiel replies with a smug face.

Dean would argue but he’s not allowed to speak directly to Castiel. (And to be honest, his brother may only be eighteen but he is freakishly clever.)

Charlie smirks and shakes her head as she writes down their answers.

“Next: What do you hate most about living together?”

This time Castiel gets his answer in first. “I hate that Dean leaves dirty socks around the apartment.”

Now Dean rolls his eyes. Castiel is always nagging Dean about his socks. They didn’t need to come all the way down here for Castiel to get that off his chest.

“I hate that you always put the empty milk carton back in the fridge. It’s gross dude.”

Castiel levels Dean with a look that says ‘you do that too and you know it’.

Dean just shrugs.

After another few questions, the first round is over and Charlie allows them to have a break. Only they’re still not allowed to talk to each other so they go into the first room and sit at either ends.

Dean is tempted to text Castiel from across the room but he knows Charlie would be hugely pissed if she found out he broke the rules.

Soon enough, they’re called back into the question room.

When they enter they’re met with the same two stools but this time there’s a solid white screen between them.

As they take their seats again, Castiel disappears behind the partition and Dean suddenly realises why it’s probably there. It’s probably an attempt to be more honest with each other because they won’t see the other’s immediate reaction.

“Okay,” Charlie begins again, “it’s the same rules as before. I’ll ask you some questions again. And remember: what happens in this room, stays in this room.”

Dean takes a deep breath. He hates being reminded of that. As if Charlie knows he’s not telling the full truth. Which, of course, he isn’t. But they don’t know that.

“First question: what has been the worst thing about living together?”

Dean internally rolls his eyes, how can he think of another bullshit jokey answer?

His thoughts are stopped by Castiel softly clearing his throat on the other side of the wall. Dean can do nothing but look at Charlie sitting opposite them. She seems to be sending Castiel a kind smile.

“The worst thing,” Castiel begins, “was that you were hurting so much when your mom died and I couldn’t do anything to help take the pain away.” The end of the sentence comes out in almost a whisper.

Dean is overwhelmed. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He doesn’t often talk about his mother’s death, not even with Castiel. That was one of the lowest moments of his life. But Castiel had been his rock. Cleaning up after him when he was in depressed moods, dragging him out of bars and shoving him in the shower to sober up. God, Dean would have flunked out of college by now if Castiel hadn’t saved him.

“You did just by being there, man.” Dean whispers, tears coming to his eyes. He takes a small breath and sits in the silence for a few moments. “Dammit, you promise that whatever happens in here, stays in here?” He asks Charlie.

“Well, from my point of view, yes. I will not discuss the details of your answers outside the parameters of the study, and your names will be anonymised when your data is used in the final report. However, it’s up to you two if it carries on with you outside these four walls.

Dean takes a shaky breath, letting Charlie’s answer wash over him for a moment.

“I would never judge you or be angry at you for anything, Dean.” Castiel’s kind voice rumbles through the partition.

And if that ain’t Castiel summed up perfectly, Dean thinks. Castiel is the most thoughtful and selfless person Dean has ever met. And Dean loves him.

Dean feels like he might just burst if he doesn’t finally put his feelings into physical words.

Castiel would forgive Dean of anything. It’s that thought that pushes Dean to take a final, calming deep breath and jump.

“Fuck it, you wanna know the worst thing about living with Cas?” Dean asks, rhetorically. “It’s that every day I look at him and see everything I could ever want but can never have.” Dean finally confesses. And once the floodgates are open, he finds that he just can’t stop. “It terrifies me that one day he’ll leave for someone better.”

Dean thinks he can hear a soft noise coming from Castiel’s side but he’s not done.

“And the thing I really hate the most having Cas as a roommate? It’s that my fucking heart breaks a little more every time he walks through the door because I know one day it’ll be the last.”

Dean can’t bring himself to look at Charlie so he looks down at his hands, nervously playing with them in his lap.

No sound comes from Castiel’s side and Dean closes his eyes in defeat and sheer regret. He’s ruined everything for sure. He should have known Castiel wouldn’t feel the same. He should have just kept it to himself.

As if to prove Dean right, he hears footsteps in the quiet room. Footsteps that he’d recognise anywhere.

Great, Castiel has left which means Charlie’s research is probably ruined too.

Fuck, shit. Can’t Dean get anything fucking right?

Only, when he listens more carefully, he notices the footsteps aren’t retreating. In fact, they sound like they’re coming closer and closer to Dean.

Dean finally opens his eyes and lifts his head to see Castiel standing in front of him. The overhead light is positioned perfectly behind his head and creates a ring of pure light around him.

Castiel silently lifts a hand to Dean’s chin, cupping it ever so slightly. Dean can’t help but fall for Castiel all over again, just looking into his eyes.

“I know Charlie didn’t ask it yet but would you like to know what I love most about living with you, Dean?”

Dean nods, eyes never leaving Castiel’s.

“It’s that I fall in love with you more and more every day, and I’m completely helpless to stop it.”

Dean can’t believe what he’s hearing and assumes this must all be a dream.

Dream or not, he’s not taking any chances and letting Castiel slip away.

Dean pushes himself up from his seat to meet Castiel’s lips and bring him into a kiss.

This definitely isn’t a dream, Dean thinks, he’s never felt something so intense in his life.

They finally part once Charlie awkwardly clears her throat, reminding them that she’s still there.

They still don’t turn their attention to her though. Instead, Castiel rests his head against Dean’s and whispers between them “This definitely isn’t staying in this room.”

A/N: I quite liked writing this, I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Please REBLOG if you liked it.

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