#you guys genuinely brightened up my entire year and i wish i could do more to thank you all HAHA

[basketobread]

⭐ANNOUNCEMENT!!!⭐

i feel a little embarrassed to be announcing this truthfully but... i opened up a kofi! if you'd like to support me, here's the link!

first, i want to say that by no means should anyone feel obligated to tip me. ive received so much support from everyone these past few weeks that my heart is so incredibly full. so thank you so much. each and every one of you :) <3

and also, minor announcement, but my commissions page/info is almost done too! i'm still debating between keeping 4-6 slots open at a time but it'll be a first-come-first-serve basis. i know a few people were interested so i thought i should announce that too. ^_^

anyways, before this gets too long, thank you all so much again for your support! i hope to continue my daily comics/doodles for years to come! have a lovely day and know that im rooting for you :) <3

#im just very grateful for all the support ive been receiving #and also thank you to everyone whos been sending such sweet asks and super fun questions #you guys genuinely brightened up my entire year and i wish i could do more to thank you all HAHA #ko fi support #kofi #buy me a kofi #artist on kofi #SDHUIFHFIUSS idk what to tag this #bob talks

[jimlingss]

hi!! for the requests, could I suggest hoseok, fluff, fake dating au, and the sentence 'I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.' thank you!

↳ Humdrum Amore

2.7k || 100% Fluff || Jung Hoseok

“I never thought I’d come back here one day.”

You stare at the brown building that you once dreaded. The same structure that you had to drag your feet into every morning five days a week after your dad dropped you off. But instead of feeling apprehension, there’s a sense of prickling nostalgia while you look at the building.

“Same.” The man beside you exhales, staring at the green field, the brown doors and small windows covered by blinds. “But it’s not all that bad, right?”

You turn to Hoseok who looks sharp in his simple suit and tie ensemble. You’ve seen him in the same clothes plenty of times, but while you’re wearing your red dress and you’re lingering in front of the school, it feels like the two of you have returned to being awkward eighteen year olds nervously going to prom together as friends.

But Hoseok eases you. “Come on.”

He takes your hand, a gesture you still aren’t used to, and tugs you inside.

The moment the doors are open, you follow the signs leading to the gymnasium and you’re met with a table of refreshments and goody bags. But more importantly, there are people already mingling in all corners. Some are wandering while most have gathered into groups to reminisce. There are those that you recognize and those whose faces have long faded in your memories. 

High school. A time of pubescent years, of growing up and trying to prove yourselves while figuring out your future. You have mixed feelings about that time. All you know is that you’re glad it’s over.

“Y/N?” There’s a higher pitched voice to the left and you turn to see Tiffany approaching with a wide smile. “Hoseok?! Oh my god, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you guys! How are you?”

You hug her for a second. “It’s good. You?”

“Yeah.” She exhales as if she can’t believe you’re together again and you admit, it is surreal. There was definitely a difference from glancing at someone’s post, status and updates on social media and seeing them in person. “It’s been great. I didn’t know if you were coming to this reunion or not.”

You smile, glancing at Hoseok. He was right about coming. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Someone walks by with a tray of cheap champagne and all three of you take a glass, thanking the waiter. Tiffany sips her drink and gets down to the nitty-gritty. “So tell me, what do you do now?”

You brace yourself, knowing this was coming. “I’m working as an embryologist at a fertility lab.”

“That’s so cool!” Her eyes widen and she genuinely appears fascinated. “It sounds super fancy.”

You laugh, concealing the note of awkwardness in your voice. Tiffany doesn’t know that it sounds much better than it actually is. It’s an entire step down from being a family doctor, an occupation which you once said was your dream. And she has no clue that you’re struggling under your strict manager, that you just received a cut in pay and your hours are strenuous.

But you don’t dare show your exhaustion. Or your discontentment.

You keep flashing a bright smile.

Everyone in high school expected you to do great, that you would go somewhere, do something. You were the smart one. The hard-working one. There’s always been a certain burden of expectations on your shoulders from your parents to your teachers, and perhaps that’s where the need to prove yourself to your former peers stems. If they knew how mundane and regular and normal you turned out — instead of being the successful achiever — you’re sure their disappointment would have a bigger effect on you more than you’d ever admit. 

And maybe that’s why Hoseok offered to pretend to be your partner for the night after you grieved about not being with anyone, when you struggled to find a plus one. He knows you best after all.

“What are you doing?” you ask Tiffany, and she hesitates, looking down at her drink for a second.

“Actually, I’m in-between jobs at the moment.” She musters a smile. “The economy sucks right now.”

You sympathize. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s hard to find a job these days.”

Tiffany turns to Hoseok and when she asks what he’s been up to, he says, “Nothing much. I’m working in IT as a development manager for this company.”

“Oh, that’s super cool too!” She’s about to ask something, but then her eyes incidentally stray downwards. You follow her line of sight, realizing that she’s looking at the way you’re holding hands with Hoseok.

“We’re...actually dating now,” you explain.

Instantaneously, Tiffany brightens. “You guys started dating after high school? When?!”

You laugh awkwardly. “Two...three years ago?” It doesn’t sound terribly convincing, so you try a second time, standing your ground. “Two, I think.” It falls a bit short, but she doesn’t notice. 

No. Tiffany absolutely gushes. “That’s so cute! Oh my god! I always thought you’d both be good together!”

That has you taken aback. The relief of getting away with your lie and not being caught gets overtaken by surprise. “Really?”

“Well yeah. You were always close friends and everyone,” she emphasizes the word by drawing it out, “knew Hoseok had a huge crush on you.”

This was news to you.

But Hoseok outright ignores your stare in favour of smiling at your old friend and holding up your interlaced hands by your heads as if it’s a trophy. “Well, looks like I got the girl in the end.”

“Are you gonna propose any time soon then?”

There’s a glint of mischief in Hoseok’s eye. “Maybe.”

He’s way too good at lying. You’re starting to get convinced this is real.

“Aw, I wish I was at this honeymoon stage again. Everything’s so sweet and cute.”

Speaking of which. “Where’s Nick?” you ask.

Tiffany deflates slightly at the question and you wonder if you said something wrong. You don’t understand until she says, “Oh….yeah...we decided to split up a few months ago.”

“Really?” You would’ve never expected it. From what you remember, they were one of the few high school sweethearts that actually made it in the long run, a couple that you used to be jealous of at sixteen. They ended up getting married too and you saw pictures of them traveling together a year ago. Who knew what her life was actually like behind the scenes. “I’m...so sorry, Tiffany.”

“It’s alright. Life happens, I guess, but it all worked out in the end and we both have joined custody of Sunny. It gets messy sometimes but as long as she’s happy, I am too.” She smiles softly and then nods. “Well, it was really nice to catch up with you two. I’m happy to hear you’re going out. Better put a ring on this one before you lose her, Jung.”

“I will,” he promises.

Tiffany leaves to catch up with a girl she knew from choir, so you both bid your goodbyes. But somehow, the conversation leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

After greeting a few more old friends and acquaintances, you leave to the hallway. 

The nostalgia slams into you, stronger than before. If you stare long enough, you can picture the hall crammed with your classmates, how you ran from class to class, sat in the desks, bored out of your mind and at times, stressed. The walls and rooms hold so many of your memories without them knowing. And that in itself makes you feel old and gray, even though you aren’t.

Not yet, at least. Hoseok always reassures you that you have another good thirty years before you’re allowed to call yourself old.

Said man glances at your expression and reads it like an open book. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You sigh. “It’s just….I don’t know. I was trying to save face this entire time and I even went as far as to lie about our relationship.”

“You didn’t do it alone. I lied too.”

“Yeah, but I wanted this.” You shake your head, slowly rounding a corner and making your way down what you remember as the science corridor. “People probably have more going on with themselves than to care what I’m up to. I don’t know why I was so scared about what they would think about me.” 

The corner of his mouth curls, and he nudges you with his elbow. “It’s high school.”

You lightly scoff but a smile tickles at your lips. “I just feel bad. Tiffany was so honest about herself, and she wasn’t ashamed about how her life turned out, not like I am.”

“No one turned out how they expected themselves to,” he hums in a thoughtful tone while glancing at the bulletin board tacked with handmade flyers for clubs. “It’s okay if you didn’t end saving the planet or finding the cure to cancer.”

You snort and soften. “Yeah.”

Hoseok always knows what to say to make you feel better.

“Look!” The peaceful moment is interrupted by the sheer volume of his voice. He points down the hall. “Our old lockers!”

You laugh, quickening your steps with his. The lockers are not technically yours anymore, they haven’t been for a long time and have probably been through tens of students since. Even right now, there are unfamiliar locks that keep them closed. But you still remember which one was yours.

You stand in front of it and Hoseok stands in front of his which is only three lockers down from yours.

The pair of you look at one another, exchanging grins. “Remember when I kept your math textbook for you since you were too lazy to put it away and we had to toss it to each other every morning?”

“Yeah. I never missed once.” He laughs and it’s a bubbly sound that’s exactly the same as back then. “Remember that time Taehyung stuffed himself inside my locker and we locked him in?”

You burst out laughing. “We almost got into trouble by Mr. Min!”

“Yep. That old man was always trying to pick on kids.”

“Except for that time Jimin launched that cake across the hall and it landed on some poor girl. He was nowhere to be found.”

Hoseok grins and comes over to lean on the blue locker next to yours, crossing his arms like he’s waiting for you before you’re late for the bell.

A sentimental feeling that is both wistful and happy washes you over again. You can recall those years as if they were yesterday. Namely, Hoseok would always be there when you closed your locker door, in the exact same position, staring at you with that identical warm expression. You don’t know a lot of your old high school friends anymore, don’t know what they’re doing or if they’ll come. It’s a natural progression of life, of going different paths and naturally drifting apart. 

But Hoseok has always been your side. Since then till now.

“So.” You turn to him. “What’s this about everyone knowing you had a crush on me?”

Hoseok goes wide-eyed and says nothing for a moment. Then he scratches the back of his neck. “Just stupid kid stuff.”

You raise a brow and hum. “Didn’t sound like stupid kid stuff. How long did you even like me for?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I’m curious.” You shrug. “I never heard about this before.”

Hoseok is embarrassed, that much is obvious. You can tell by the way he’s brushing around the subject, not looking you in the eyes, how much he’s hesitating. It’s not like him and that makes you even more intrigued. “A while.”

Maybe you shouldn’t push him so much when he doesn’t want to talk about it. But for some reason, there’s a burning desire inside of you to know. After all, you thought you knew all of your best friend’s secrets.

“What’s a while?”

“Like sixth grade?”

Your jaw drops. “So when we met?”

“Yeah..?” Hoseok seems unsure and he’s staring at the other wall as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. There’s nothing but a dirty shoe print on it. “Something like that.”

Now it’s your turn to be perplexed. Although, for an entirely different kind of reason. “But why?”

He turns his head, as if sensing you’re about to self-deprecate yourself. “You’re funny and smart and pretty, Y/N. Everyone liked you,” Hoseok explains it as if it’s factual and your cheeks grow warm.

You suck in your cheek, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me you liked me?”

“I was awkward and I was too scared you’d reject me,” he exhales and you glance at him to find an unreadable expression. Perhaps he’s uncomfortable at the idea now that he’s grown out of it and he knows you too well. Or maybe...just maybe...he’s filled with regret.

You shake off the thought before your imagination runs wild.

You’re about to drop the subject once and for all, but as you turn away, the quiet mutter slips from your mouth, “I wouldn’t have.”

Hoseok catches it. 

He freezes completely and when you realize he’s not following you back to the gymnasium, you turn around. “Earth to Hoseok. What’s wrong?” 

“What about now?”

“What?”

His expression is blank aside from the slight furrow of his brow. It’s not often Hoseok’s entirely serious and you’re caught off guard by his demeanour. He closes the distance in three strides and asks, “If I asked you out now, if I said I wanted to date you for real, would you reject me?”

His gaze is dark. Intense. As if he’s mustered up the courage he’s built for years for this very moment. 

Your mouth opens, eyes unable to look away from him and your voice pipes out a timid— “no.”

In an instant, Hoseok’s mouth is on yours. Your back slams against the lockers as he cradles your cheeks in his palms, tilting his head to capture your lips carefully yet eagerly. You whine in his grasps and quickly reciprocate, moving your mouth against his. It’s soft, warm and comforting. Hoseok has always been comforting to you. A slow burn rather than a bursting firework that eventually fades away. A warm bonfire that’s built from the first spark rather than a forest wildfire that ultimately burns out after consuming everything. 

You’ve always loved him. But perhaps it wasn’t always purely platonic like you thought. At least not until tonight where that’s been challenged.

Hoseok's body is firm and warm against yours. His knee is placed between your thighs and you loop your arms around his neck to get him even closer. Your senses are filled with his cologne, the lingering scent of his shaving cream and shampoo. Hoseok tastes like the champagne he drank and you’re beginning to feel dizzy from it. That or you’re running out of breath.

You whimper rather pathetically, but he doesn’t let up. Not until you push at his shoulder and he has to gather his self-restraint to part from you. 

You’re left panting heavily against him, lips swollen and Hoseok exhales before laughing. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

You grin. “Always?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Practically.”

Never would you have thought Hoseok would kiss you against your lockers. It’s another memory you’re making in these walls even after years of graduating. But you’d like a second time to make up for all the others, so you start to tug Hoseok’s tie to get him closer again—

“Hey!” 

There’s an ear-splitting shout and the two of you flinch, whirling around to the end of the hall.

“You’re supposed to be in the gymnasium!” Old man Mr. Min is bumbling towards you with a cane, his voice surprisingly still full of power even when he looks like a sack of bones.

“Sorry!” You duck your head and before he can catch you, your hand entwines with Hoseok’s. The two of you dash down the hall as if you were still trouble-making high-schoolers.

Hoseok mutters in complete shock, “He’s still alive?!”

And you laugh, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter.

You return to the reunion and your heart is a bit lighter knowing this time, you don’t have to lie.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #hoseok fluff #hoseok reader insert #hoseok x reader #Jimlings #Anonymous

[shotorozu]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦 ᥊ 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you find yourself in a bar that you and your ex used to go to regularly. the local bartender calls your ex- shinsou hitoshi; thinking you guys are still together. 

𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀: angst to fluff (happy ending), sfw, pro hero au (aged up), drinking (alcohol mentions and intake) ex to lovers, minor todomomo (not the center of this fic) reader is in the top 5, some swearing. 

𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱: [Y/N = your name, L/N = last name, H/N = hero name, ] f! reader, quirk not mentioned. 

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: i also did this trope on ao3 with todomomo, so i better not see people think i plagiarized them because.. that’s literally me lol. also! i was very conflicted, bc i also wanted to do this with shouto but since I already have 2-3 fics in the making, i went with hitoshi (but let me know if you wanna see shouto’s version.) 

word count to be added when im not sleep deprived

　　　　　　　　

　　　　　　　　˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

You swivel down another shot down your throat, not caring of the burn in your nose, nor do you care about the smell of the alcohol. 

You’re never like this, this is not the best representation of yourself, no. This is not who you are as a person, and the way your former classmates look at you with concern when you chug down another shot shows how unusual this is to them.

“Take it easy..” Momo pats your back, and you exhale heavily, putting down the glass. Everyone is certain that you’ll obtain some serious hangover, almost to the point that you’d have to take the morning off to treat your hangover. They’re aware that you’re not this careless, since you're in the top 5 after all. 

But they let you be momentarily, but why you may ask?

Because this is your way of coping a breakup with your boyfriend of 3 and a half years, Shinsou Hitoshi. They’re aware on how hurt you really are, and to be real- they were the ones that asked you to come out with them tonight to distract you. 

“They’ve been going at it for a while, it’s almost concerning.” Tsuyu comments, as she tends to a slightly tipsy Mina, holding her so she doesn’t fall face first into the floor. 

The least they could do is let you be, while you're not totally blacked out.

The local bartender- Maki, looks at you with concern when you order another shot, yet they still give it to you (with the slightest hesitation) since you’re such a good friend to her. (Your rank makes you very respectable, it’s almost intimidating! but your casual friend ship with the bar tender says other wise.) 

But on the contrary, you'd know when you’ve reached the limit, and you’d probably know when they’d start refusing your requests of another shot. 

One by one, their friends depart from the table, either they were too drunk to even handle it so they were brought home, or something came up- everyone could agree that they all had some sort of worry towards their dear friend’s very out of character coping mechanism. 

“I have to go soon,” Momo sighs, when she receives a text from Todoroki- though it’s very obvious that she’s still very concerned for you, considering that she’s the only friend left. “Please take care of Y/N, Maki-san.” 

Maki nods at your black haired friend, and the creation hero looks at you one last time before leaving the bar. 

Lifting your head, your words are slurred as you request for another shot, which seems like the umpteenth time that you requested for a shot. The concerned bartender still attends to your needs, yet- she’s contemplating of calling someone if you ask for another. 

Likewise, you finish that shot in a moment, and you slump down on the table. Eyelids fluttering slowly as your laughter is filled with intoxication, your cheeks are warm from being inebriated from the intake of alcohol. 

You don’t notice how your concerned bartender dials up a number, requesting for them to pick your drunken state. 

     »»————-　➴　————-««

“Did you know the word bed is shaped like one?” 

It’s now past midnight, and you’re mouthing off about something random, the train of thought is endless (but it’s more like a shower thought ramble.) Your fists are deep into your hair- holding your head up so it doesn't hit the table, meanwhile Maki paces back and forth- still tending to other requests from the very few customers left. 

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, yeah.” They answer absentmindedly, “Man, I haven't seen you in nearly 4 months! it’s been a while. You knows how to hold your alcohol so frankly, this is the first time I’ve seen this side of you!” 

“Oh really?” You slur, continuing on to spout out purposeless words.

The bartender’s response is a total blur, words turning into background noises, and a part of you is lucky to still be conscious and still functioning (yet it's barely) 

“..But you hold it well for--” 

You’re also very lucky that you’re a little too under the influence to even register the name.

You didn't know you’d take this breakup with him harshly. The most you were expecting was just.. crying while eating ice cream. 

But no, it was an utter shit hole. 

The door busts open, and the bartender’s expression seems to brighten up “Ah, there you are!” 

You grumble, the bar’s lights causing your eyes to sting- and your head hurts too. You might need some aspirin later.. you close your eyes shut. The bartender is chatting with the unknown person, and frankly- you just wished you didn’t intoxicate yourself this much.

“Y/N,” 

The baritone voice is almost sufficient in sobering you up. Turning to the familiar voice, you see the tall figure, sporting bedraggled purple hair. 

It’s Shinsou Hitoshi. A reason why you’re in such a mess, coping with a breakup in the first place. 

You almost fall off your chair in sudden revelation to the appearance of your ex lover. It was almost like.. your drunken state was making you see things- a possible hallucination maybe? it has to be that. Maybe it’s the side effect of the growing headache?? What was in that shot?

“Ugh, I must be crazy,” You wipe your cheek from slob, your head throbbing from the growing headache. The weary purple head raises an eyebrow, and the bartender is confused by the sudden tension. It's abnormal, alright.

The reason why you broke up was because of his lack of self care. 

Again, it’s not like he was being a shithead and cheating on you, or being a total prick of a boyfriend and neglecting you, and it’s definitely not the other way around either. 

It was probably the opposite. He'd neglect himself for days on end, not caring about himself, and not caring about his own being. It was.. not what you wanted at all. 

You figured just because the both of you are rising up heroes, and also adults- he would’ve gotten a grip of not neglecting himself. 

But even habits like that don’t get old. 

“Hitoshi- seriously, when was the last time you’ve took a breather?” growing slightly irritated by Shinsou’s continuous neglect of his own self care, and also the fact that he’s clinging onto you 24/7. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugs, pinching your cheek. Heck, you should be glad he wants to be with you for the majority of the days. But you can’t tolerate him when he’s constantly complaining about being tired, although making little to no efforts in taking care of himself. Heck- his dark circles got even darker- how is that even possible?

“’Toshi, it really does. You can’t neglect self care.” Your brows furrow when he chooses to ignore your words. “You’re not listening to me.” 

“You should be glad that I want to spend time with you.” 

It stung. What the hell did he even mean by that..?? scoffing, and slightly offended, you reply “That’s not the main issue.” you cross your arms “We’ve talked about this before, remember?” You reason out, giving him the nice benefit of the doubt. You'd like to be civil here. 

He ignores you once more, and you can actually feel the irritation grow within you. “I don’t want to be the reason why you neglect yourself.” 

“I’m really not, okay?” He retorts back, “Why do you always have to bring up things that don't matter?” 

Aggitated, you snap back “Wh- we’re talking about you! Hitoshi, we’ve talked about this- and you said you’d work on it! do my words mean nothing to you?” Hitoshi’s gaze flickers up, only staring at you, as if it was his own way of judging you and your intent. 

And that’s how it erupted into a full fight, and into your eventual breakup. 

You didn’t know how expressing your genuine concern for him blended into him saying things he’d never mean in his entire life. He doesn’t stop you when you walk out, not saying a thing at all

There was no verbal breakup. It was just.. there. 

The unknowing bartender interrupts the nonverbal tension, “I thought you’d be a lot happier, y’know.” 

“We-”

“..’ll get going now, thanks again.” Before you know it, Hitoshi’s hooking your arm around his shoulders— as he walks to the door, leaving the very familiar bar.

It’s awkward, surely. You’re not sure why he was there, and you’re not so sure as to why he decided to come to your aid in the first place. If Maki called him, and he was requested to come to you in question, then he could’ve just..

“..sent someone else,” You mumble. You reek heavily of alcohol, and your skin is undeniably warm. Frankly, he doesn’t remember the last time you were like this— was it the first time you had a drink? it was years back at this point.

You’re pretty.

Beautiful,

That’s one thing that hasn’t change. Surely, what changed things was the fact that he said some.. horrible things— and refused to even listen to your concerns, which ultimately cause your breakup. His relationship status changed into some lonely and young hero, and his heart ached in different ways.

But you’re still very beautiful, to him.

Doesn’t matter if you’re all dolled up for a hero interview, or a mess on a off saturday. You’re still beautiful.

But now— he’s focused on your words, and he’s taken aback when you continue to speak, causing the both of you to stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

“You’ve coulda asked s-someone else to pick.. me up.” Your words are slurred, a normal side effect of being drunk. However, seeing your ex has surely sobered you up.

“That’s true,” Shinsou moves to continue walking, so you guys weren’t standing on the middle of the side walk on a cold early morning.

“What are you even doing at a bar at 1am?” He changes the subject, but you’re still caught on to your previous question. “You didn’t answer my question at all, meanie.” Her grip is firm, so there’s no way of budging it.

His laugh lacks humor, yet he feels obligated to answer her. Or else they’d be stuck on the sidewalk, due to her hero grip.

“It didn’t feel right,”

“Yeah sure.” You grumble, “Because you suddenly care.”

“I’ve always cared, Y/N.”

“Really?” You say, not really believing him anyway. “You seemed pretty sure with your words back then to care.” Despite being toxicated, your words have undertones of venom

“You may say that, but.. I’ve always cared.”

“Then why the hell did you say all of that back then, huh?” Overwhelmed by seeing your ex, who you still fucking loved by the way— tears grow at your eyes. “If you’re lying, stop it.” You say, literally not in the mood to be lied to right now.

You’re literally being carried by your ex, while intoxicated, while also having a throbbing headache.

“I’m not.” Hitoshi answers firmly. A certain edge grows in his throat, and he hates it.

“Yes you are,” Your voice is now wobbly, it’s really just a mix of your overwhelming emotion, as well as your drunken state. “You would’ve told me that weeks ago!”

You were always right, and he knows it. Ever since from the last moment you shared with him, your words were just.. nothing but the sheer truth. Yet, he’s only hurt you— because of his denial.

He knows you’re right, and he knows that he had his habits of neglecting his own care. Though that’s why he decided to change, that you were in fact- correct all this time.

And he was just an ass to even admit it.

“You’re right,” His fists crumple, grip tight as he fights his sudden urge to break. “You were always right. I’ve always cared, and you’ve always cared about me. Yet I was worried of changing, not being around you just so that I could take care of something that’s not really important-”

“But you are, Hitoshi,” You sob, nearly collapsing onto the ground— “You matter so much, yet you don’t even see it, and if I’m going to contribute to your destructive ways— then...”

“How could you? If you don’t care about my words, then do you care about yourself..?”

Shinsou sighs, bending down to meet your level— you’re gasping and sobbing into his chest, tears angrily running down your cheeks.

“I know, kitten, and I’m sorry.” Wiping your tears with his thumb, he speaks once more. “That’s why.. I’ve thought about what you’ve said, and I decided to take care of myself a bit more, I want you to know that.. I do care.”

You glance up at him, the city lights luminating his face— enough for you to see the adorning expression he’s sporting.

“..really?” You speak, in a nearly hush tone, again— you’re still very drunk, and overwhelmed with emotions. This could’ve been passed off as a fever dream, and you could’ve been normal with it.

“Yes, Y/N.” His mouth perks up into a small smile.

“Then.. would you allow me to start over with you again?”

Pushing against Hitoshi, you envelope him with your arms— it’s almost cliché and dramatic, the way you collapse into his arms like it’s the last day on earth.

But.. Shinsou’s glad he has you again. Finally a chance to prove that he’s changed.

ーーーーーーー

BONUS

You sit on the counter of your apartment, hands covering your face— as a way to shield your eyes from the prodding sunlight that peaks from the windows.

“This should help,” Hitoshi hands you a cool glass of water, “The way you hold your alcohol is terrible,” You chug down the glass of water, and you take a jab at him with your feet.

He hisses at the sudden attack, and only chuckles, “You’re mad because it’s true kitten,” He teases

“Shut up,” You draw him in with your leg, setting the glass down, “Just kiss me already,”

And so he does, pressing your lips against his— savoring the sweet warm moment he’s been practically starved of for nearly 4 months.

He pulls back, his expression showcasing that he’s tasting the aftermath.

“Ew, you taste like beer.”

You glare at him, and take another light jab, “Of course I do, Idiot.”

Despite saying all of that, he pulls you in once more.

　　　　　　　˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading (literally the first fic i’ve ever posted, so y’all BETTER like it or i’ll 💀)

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing

do not plagiarize my work :)) (literally don’t, it’s 3:26am on a tuesday.)

#shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha x y/n #bnha fluff #shinsou imagines #shinsou hitoshi fanfiction #shinsou hitoshi x you #shinsou hitoshi x y/n #bnha angst #bnha fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha x you #mha x y/n #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou bnha #shinsou hitoshi #istg if this flops #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #if this flops i’ll actually cry #shinsou hitoshi x reader

[houseof-harry]

Christmas Miracle | G.D.

A/N - anddddddd I’m back! Idk why, but I thought it was necessary for us to have a cheesy ass, Hallmark ass one shot that is filled with all the fluff and cuteness. So I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday moment and you enjoy the disgusting fluff I’m offering up

Word Count - 7.4k

Summary - Christmas in New York can be seen in one of two ways. It’s the most magical time of the year, snow falling, lights glimmering, joy rampant in the air. Or, the influx of tourists and people trying to sell you things ruins the entire month of December. Y/n tends to lean towards the latter. That is, until she get’s her Christmas miracle.

***

Your friends were lucky you loved them.

When they had first brought up the idea of you showing them around New York City during one of the most popular times of the year for tourism, you shut them down immediately. The holidays were difficult enough without leading around a group of lost puppies who would be acting like they had never seen Christmas lights before.

But they were convincing people, and were quick to offer you the many ways in which they could brighten your few weeks at home and possibly even change your view of the last few weeks of the year.

So, as you balanced finals and all of your other responsibilities as the semester came to an end, you and your friends planned out a trip through NYC that could honestly make a pretty decent Hallmark movie. They even convinced you to spend New Years in Time Square, despite your continued protest. You never saw the appeal of being packed into small gated areas for hours with a bunch of strangers to watch a ball drop, but they claimed that it was necessary to get the full experience. You also bargained that you would get to pick where spring break was if you went through with all of their plans.

You never liked feeling like Scrooge, but the holidays never brought positive memories back for you. Everything felt somewhat fraudulent to you. Fake smiles, meaningless gifts, ignoring the happenings of the rest of the year to act as though family was more important than anything, everyone suddenly devout Christians. You were a big advocate of always being true to who you are, and how you feel, year round. Not just when it is socially expected to do so in some performative, public way that puts up the facade that your life couldn’t be better.

You hoped your friends were right, that they could change the way you felt about the holidays. That maybe it would somehow feel more genuine with them.

So far, they've had some almost successful attempts. You indulged in gingerbread cookies, wore your fluffy winter jacket as you walked around with them to shop for your secret santa. You could even feel a bit of excitement as you picked out the perfect gift for Gia. She’d always say how much she loved leather watches, that she hoped to be able to afford one after graduation to wear to her first job. The smooth brown band you picked out earlier in Saks sat safely in your bag as you led everyone to one of the main attractions of their visit.

Soon enough, the massive, lit up tree came into view.

“Welcome to Rockefeller Center,” you announce as you turn to face everyone, hands held out as you watch them marvel at the scene in front of them, a scene they’ve only seen through screens.

“Wow,” Colin mutters under his breath. You swear you can see the lights from behind you twinkling in their eyes, and you can understand better why they wanted to come on this trip. Maybe you had become a bit numb to the Christmas happenings of the city after so many years of being around it. The obvious wonder on everyone’s faces made you wish you could see the tree for the first time all over again.

You turn to walk forward, afraid of bumping into the swarms of people that stand between you and the tree. As you do so, you feel Gia’s arm wrap around your shoulder to fall in step next to you.

“I knew we’d be able to get a smile on your face,” she teases as her free hand comes to your face to squeeze your cheeks.

You chuckle, wrapping your arm around her waist to keep her close as you squeeze your way through the crowd to get closer to the tree. “Just because I hate the holidays, doesn’t mean I don’t like seeing you guys happy. Even if it’s for a stupid tree.”

“It’s not stupid and you know it.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your rebuttal interrupted when you hear a squeal from behind you.

“We need a family picture in front of it!”

You turn around at Jo’s request to see her already getting her camera out from under her jacket.

“Here, I’ll take some,” you offer, holding your hand out.

“But then you won’t be in it,” she pouts.

“I have so many pictures of myself in front of this tree, I don’t need any more.”

She huffs, but knows you’re too stubborn to change your mind. She turns back to your group, who now stand in front of you, positioning everyone next to each other.

You bring the camera up to your face, making sure to get everyone in the frame, along with the tree. You start taking pictures of your friends, and you can’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you watch them genuinely enjoy the moment.

“I can take pictures of all of you if you want,” a gruff voice comes from your left, and your attention goes from the camera to the person standing close to you now.

Your eyes have to drag up from the man’s chest, him having a significant height advantage over you. He has a five o’clock shadow that covers his chin, a sharp jawline underneath. His smile shows off his white teeth, that same smile causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. Those same warm eyes are looking at you still, waiting for a response.

“Uh, I don’t-”

“Yes!” Jo responds for you, swinging her hand at the two of you standing there.

He holds his hands out, and you carefully place the expensive camera in his hands.

“Don’t drop it.”

He nods at your command as he inspects the buttons.

“Or steal it.”

This breaks his attention from the camera, his smile spreading wider as he chuckles. “I won’t.”

You let out a huff as you nod once, crossing your arms and turning to walk to your friends. You go to the end of the line, tucking yourself under Colin’s arm.

“Don’t drool all over me.”

You scoff, looking up at him. “What?”

“You’ve got heart eyes for our photographer, I’m surprised you couldn’t feel your jaw dragging on the floor as you came over here.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, hitting his chest as he laughs at you.

“Stop talking and smile!” Jo chastises, and you listen in the hopes of Colin dropping it.

You look back at the man who has the camera, and feel your cheeks blush as you make eye contact with him. You opt to look at the camera instead, trying to forget the fact that his eyes were undeniably on you.

He snaps a bunch of pictures of you guys, and as the mom friends Jo even made you do what she deems a “silly” one.

Once Jo is satisfied, she runs up to him, grabbing the camera with a quick and uninterested ‘thanks’ as she immediately starts scrolling through the pictures. Everyone gathers around, laughing and pointing at each other on the tiny screen.

“Thank you,” you say, standing next to him as you watch your friends leaning over Jo’s shoulder.

“No problem,” he smiles, also watching your group. “I hope they’re good enough for a Christmas card.”

You laugh, probably too loudly for how lame of a comment it was, but he seems to appreciate it.

You shake your head. “Knowing Jo, I’ll have an entire book of pictures by the end of this that she’ll insist I keep on my coffee table the rest of my life.”

He chuckles, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket. He’s got a beanie covering his ears, and you can’t help but notice he looks better in it than you ever could.

“It’s nice having friends that feel like family. I’m glad you get to have them around for the holidays.”

It’s weird how that comment seems to sit with you. He knows nothing about you, but he’s right. How he knew you needed to hear that, you don’t know.

“Yeah,” you nod, biting your lip as you take in a breath through your nose to ground yourself. “Thanks again, uh…”

“Grayson.” One of his hands leaves his pockets, hanging in the air between the two of you. You take it, letting his fingers fold around your own hand. His skin is warm against yours, a nice change to the cool winds that have been gusting around you the entire day.

He raises his brow at you, and for a second you don’t know what he wants. He keeps your hand engulfed in his, and it hits you that he’s waiting to hear your name.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he says, almost testing it out as he lets your hand drop. “I like that.”

You giggle, your cheeks blushing as you realize the involuntary reactions he’s pulling from you. You’re not a giggler.

“Yo Gray!” Another deep voice comes from over your shoulder, and you turn to see someone who could be a clone of the man standing in front of you. “We gotta go.”

You’re not sure if you make up the sigh you think you hear come from his lips, hoping he was disappointed he had to leave, too.

“I hope you like the pictures.”

And as suddenly as he had appeared next to you, you were watching him jog over back to his own group of people as they disappeared behind the crowd.

“Don’t worry,” Colin’s grip was on your shoulder again as he stepped next to you. “Love is in the air this Christmas season. If it’s not him, it’s someone.”

“I’m Jewish.”

“And Christmas is barely about being Christian anymore. Everyone gets some Christmas joy.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you shake your head, leaning into him a bit. You appreciated his positivity, despite your pessimism. If Christmas miracles were real, your life would have played out very differently.

***

Cold.

That was all you could feel, think, see.

After your adventure at the tree, you planned to go ice skating. You had to, according to Jo. It would be a waste to be there and not go.

When you tried to get out of it, claiming to want to keep Kam company seeing as he had an ankle injury and couldn’t skate, everyone including Kam called you on your shit and made you get out on the ice.

Which you were pretty sure they were regretting now.

You’d never been confident on the ice, only skating a few times in your life. You couldn’t leave the edge, holding onto the side for dear life as you moved slowly around the rink. Your friends took shifts staying with you the rest skating at a more reasonable pace as they continued to lap you.

That is, until Colin and Gia start arguing about who’s better and decide to race, Jo trailing behind them to make sure they don’t knock any children down.

Despite your tight grip on the wall, without the help of your friends your balance fails you and before you knew what was happening, your feet were flailing beneath you. You’re surprised the ice didn’t crack as you fell, your body colliding with the cold, hard ice as your hand trailed down the wall.

You laid there a moment, partially in shame but mainly from the exhaustion of trying to keep yourself upright. You only open your eyes when you hear a chuckle from above you. When you do open them, however, you’re met with an unexpected sight.

“You alright?”

That same charming smile was looking down at you, Grayson’s hand held out in front of him in an offer to help you up.

You scramble to sit up, taking his hand, the other going to the ice as you start to slowly stand up. What you don’t expect is the amount of force he would use to help you, feeling the tug on your arm as he quickly gets you back to your feet.

It’s so quick that you can’t seem to get your footing, your skates scrambling on the slick ice again. Before you can take another tumble, though, his hand is leaving yours as you feel his grip on your waist. He manages to steady you, your palms resting on his chest to do your best to stay still for a moment. Your breathing is a bit jagged as you try to collect your thoughts, your brain jumbled from the events of the past minute, the close proximity to Grayson not helping.

“Uh.” Your mind is racing a mile a minute in order to catch up to where you were right now. Still against Grayson’s body, his face close to yours with a concerned look. His eyes seem to be tracking your own expressions as he tries to figure out if you’re hurt. “Yeah, think I’m good.”

You lean back against the wall, and he takes it as a sign to let go of you. Despite your multiple layers that separated your skin from his hands, you somehow feel a bit colder without him touching you.

“Bit of a hard fall there.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, nodding your head as you flush, realizing he saw the whole thing happen. “I’m not the best skater.”

“Interested in a lesson?” He holds his hand out to you.

You raise your brow, not moving from the safety of the wall. “You want to teach me?”

“Yeah, Y/N.”

You’re not sure why hearing your name from his mouth unprompted affected you so much, but you felt almost as if you were in a trance. It was like you couldn’t control yourself anymore, your hand falling easily into his.

“Why?”

For the first time since you met him, Grayson seemed to be a bit flustered. “I, uh, think it’s important everyone knows how to skate. It’s definitely a life skill,” he justifies, nodding and pursing his lips. “Plus, I used to play hockey. So I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m not looking to learn how to body someone on ice.”

His laughter is loud as he leans forward a bit, his body closer to yours once again. His grip on your hand tightens, and it’s suddenly hard to believe you’ve gone your whole life without hearing him laugh. You can’t help your own laughter that falls from your lips in response to him, your eyes unable to leave his face.

“I’m just gonna teach you how to not fall,” he reassures through his smile. “I’ve seen people get seriously hurt falling.”

The reminder of possible injuries not only makes you aware of the dull ache you were feeling from your most recent fall, but also of the fact you were far away from the door of the rink.

Grayson notices the change in your attitude, his smile quickly fading. “Or I can just help you off the ice.”

His voice brings you back to reality as you take in a breath and look up at him. Despite the fear bubbling inside of you, the tendinitis in your joints screaming for you to stop, you can’t help but think about what Colin said before. Maybe this was your Christmas miracle.

“No, you’re right. It’s totally a life skill.”

The corners of his mouth turn up as nods before situating himself sideways next to you. “Alright, first things first you gotta remember to bend your knees.”

You uneasily push your body off the wall, your hand still gripping it. “Actually, first things first I have to turn the right direction.”

He chuckles and nods, standing there expectantly. You realize he’s waiting for you to do it yourself.

“I don’t know how.”

“Oh.” He switches his hands so you’re holding one farther from you. His now free arm reaches around your waist. “Can I?”

You nod, and you feel his firm grip on you once again. As soon as he starts to maneuver you, you squeal, tightening your hand on his as your other flies from the wall to cover his grip on your jacket.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m not usually such a little bitch.”

He laughs, and that’s when you realize how close you are again. You can feel his warm breath on the side of your face, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in fear of totally freezing from making eye contact. You can’t remember the last time someone made you feel so nervous yet so comfortable at the same time.

“You’re not a little bitch, you’re just getting used to the ice. You’ll be lapping me in no time.”

It’s your turn to laugh as you shake your head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m pretty sure my only goal should be to not eat shit.”

“We got this, then.”

Surprisingly enough, you guys managed to stay standing the whole time. After your first lap around, and partially to your disappointment, you were able to skate without his arm around you, the only support you needed coming from holding his hand and the occasional grip of the wall. The only time you came close to falling was when he taught you how to pick up speed, but even then you managed to stay on your feet.

What caught you most off guard, however, was how easily being around him was. Somehow it felt like you had known each other for years, your comfort level increasing every minute you spent together. You were able to laugh together, never a dull or quiet moment as he continued to guide you around the rink. You lost track of where your friends even were, nevermind how the lights around the rink were seemingly getting brighter as the sun went down.

“So who was that guy from before that looked like you?”

“My twin brother Ethan.”

At this point you two were skating at a normal speed, staying close to the wall for your sanity, but the only support you needed was him holding your hand.

“You guys are close?”

“Oh my god,” he laughs, shaking his head. You look over at him, smiling as you watch him try and put into words what he wants to explain. “Probably too close. We do everything together.”

“That’s gotta be nice, though.”

“It is. It’s good to always have someone like that,” he agrees. “Do you have any siblings?”

You nod, looking forward again. “Yeah, two brothers.”

“So you already know how to body people, it was just the on ice part you struggled with.”

You laugh. “Exactly, you just caught me in my moment of weakness.”

“Oh, so you would have bodied me otherwise?”

You look back over at him, letting your gaze go up and down his body as if you’re sizing him up. “Totally.”

Before he can respond, your body is being jerked as you feel Gia’s arm fall over your shoulder. You grip Grayson’s hand hard to stay standing.

“As much as I hate to be the party pooper, I’ve gotta steal you away. Jo’s freaking about us being late for the dinner res.”

Both Grayson and Gia stop skating, but you move forward with the momentum you had built up. Stopping hadn’t been a part of the day's lesson.

You fall backwards between the grip they both had on you. You’re not even sure what your hands start reaching for as you flail around, expecting the cold of the ice under your body just like before.

Instead, you feel two strong arms under you. When you open your eyes, Grayson’s face is so close to yours you’re sure you would see any imperfections if he had them. His eyebrows are high on his forehead as he searches your face just like last time, looking for a status update.

“Oh my god, I’m totally ruining the Christmas miracle right now, aren’t I?”

Grayson does what he can to keep a straight face due to the concern he still had for you, but he can’t stop the snort that comes from him as you groan and cover your face in embarrassment from Gia’s comment.

“Giovannina, I swear on my life, I will literally-”

“I’m sorry!” Grayson stands you back up making sure you’re steady on your feet before letting go of you. “Jo’s got her murder eyes, you know the ones, and she’s been looking forward to this restaurant all week and we waited as long as possibly because-” she looks at Grayson. “You seem fabulous, truly. So cute. But,” she looks back at you, puppy dog eyes fully activated. “You know how Jo gets.”

You let out a sigh, nodding your head. “I do.”

She sheepishly holds her hands out for you, and you bregudgely take them, making sure you exaggerate your frustrations. It’s not Gia’s fault, or even Jo’s that your time with Grayson had to get cut short, but that doesn’t mean you won’t throw a fit about it.

“Thank you for finally teaching her how to skate. She’s a woman of many talents, but being on ice is not one of them,” Gia chuckles, her smile genuine but your annoyance only building. Gia’s intentions are always pure, but god damn she was a bad wingman.

Fortunately, Grayson smiles in agreement as he looks at you. “It was a rough beginning, but I think you’ve got potential.” He nudges your shoulder with his lightheartedly, but you tense in fear of falling over.

“Sure, lots of potential,” you mumble, letting Gia slowly start to pull you to the exit.

“Hey, is there any way I could-”

“Y/N!”

You all turn to see Jo standing in front of Colin and Kam, and you’re pretty sure you can also see the vein popping out of the side of her neck in distress as she tries to rush you along. You make a mental note to figure out who has her for secret santa to tell them to get her a voucher to a spa.

You turn back to look at Grayson, both of you standing there somewhat speechless, not sure what to say and not wanting to speak over the other.

“Thanks for looking out for her again!” Gia interrupts, tugging you along and forcing you to turn back around.

You let her pull you along in silence, disappointment quickly settling in the pit of your stomach.

This wasn’t you. You were very intentional with who you let in your life, and even more intentional with who you liked. You were notoriously single, always prioritizing everything and everyone before putting yourself in a position to get hurt. You let rationality rule, emotions only ever proving to cause pain and heartbreak.

So why the fuck were you so caught up in Grayson?

***

You did your best to not think about him, the illusive man you met one day two weeks ago. You had so much to distract yourself with, too. Between the Christmas celebration you guys did, the other activities Jo had planned around the city, and just spending time with people you loved, you should have been able to forget Grayson in a day, go back to how life was before he offered to take pictures for you.

Even Jo picked up on how you were off. You were going through with every stupid craft or activity she made you do, without a complaint. She knew something was up.

Which is why she conceded on one of her biggest wishes, one she knew you were not looking forward to.

“So I found us a house party for New Years.”

You look up from your phone at her declaration, brows furrowed. “What?”

“Instead of going out on the street for New Years, we’ll go to a party in one of the apartments nearby.” She’s got everyone's attention now, Kam pausing the show on the TV to listen. “We’ll still be able to see the ball drop, but we’ll be inside.”

“How’d you find a party? Those apartments are mad nice, only rich people live in them.”

“You know how my sister’s out in LA trying to be a model?”

You nod.

“Well, it’s kind of working. She’s gotten herself a group of influencer friends, successful ones. They’re here for New Year’s, so she got us on the list.”

“Holy shit,” Gia mutters.

“Is Madison Beer gonna be there?” Kam asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Dude, even if she is, there’s no way she’d fuck you.”

Kam scoffs, flipping you off. “Don’t be an ass just because your Christmas miracle was a fail. Some of us don’t hate the world.”

“There’s no such thing as Christmas miracles, Kam. Plus, it’s past Christmas.”

“Alright, alright,” Colin interrupts, holding his hands up between the two of you. “First off,” he points at you. “Christmas miracles are definitely real, you’re just a Grinch. And,” he turns to point at Kam. “Madison Beer is way out of your fucking league.”

“Ha!”

“However,” Colin cuts you off. “If she did fuck you, I would classify that as a Christmas miracle because it is still holiday time and therefore the rules of Christmas miracles still apply.”

You throw your hands up in confusion, but Jo beats you to it. “What are the rules of Christmas Miracles?”

“Oh jesus,” you mumble under your breath as Colin sits up straighter and clears his throat.

“The rules are as follows,” he holds up a finger. “If you can find a shitty, holiday themed movie on the Hallmark channel, it’s Christmas-time and therefore a Christmas miracle can happen. They usually run through New Years, so you both-” he points at you and Kam, “have the opportunity for your Christmas miracles.”

“I cannot believe-”

“Second,” he interrupts you, holding up a second finger. “Christmas miracles come to people who deserve them.”

“Oh, so that’s why Y/n’s didn’t work out?” Kam murmurs, and you flip him off.

“Kam, your already low odds of fucking Madison Beer are dwindling by the second.”

“Fine,” he holds his hands up in defeat. “Keep going.”

“Y/n is totally deserving of a Christmas miracle,” Gia defends you. “She puts so much time into making sure we’re happy. Just because she doesn’t like Christmas, doesn’t mean she’s not deserving.”

“Exactly G,” Colin nods in approval, before putting up a third finger. “And lastly, you have to believe you deserve the Christmas miracle.” It feels like he’s staring into your soul when he says that one.

You all sit there in silence, individually deciding how much you want to believe what Colin is saying.

Of course it sounds like a load of horse shit. But, it didn’t feel like horseshit when you were with Grayson.

“Whatever,” you declare, standing up. “I need more.” You swirl your now empty mug, walking over to the hot chocolate and peppermint vodka on the counter.

“A little joy never hurt anyone, Y/n,” Kam comments, holding his empty mug out to you as you walk by. You take it from him, putting them down on the counter once you reach it.

“You’d be surprised.”

***

You’re not sure how Gia convinced you that a skimpy outfit was the perfect idea to wear for New Years, yet here you were, shivering to the bone as you walked down the street.

You don’t even like wearing heels most of the time, out of fear of falling down. Gia claims you look confident when you wear them, which you reveal to her is fake. That’s always been your motto: ‘fake it ‘till you make it.’ That didn’t seem to sway her, though, so the stilettos that now dug into your pinky toes were what you committed to for the entirety of the evening.

Colin’s arm around your shoulder wasn’t helping to warm you any, your faux fur coat letting the cool breeze still brush against your skin. Your small black tank top tucked into your matching black jeans were not made to be worn in the 20 degree weather. You kept your body close to him, your arm wrapped around his waist with your free hand in Gia’s.

“We’re gonna have the best night!”

You smile at Gia’s excitement, her eyes seeming to sparkle with the lights that line the street. Other groups of partiers and New Year’s Eve celebrators make it hard to hear her over their loud screaming and excitement, and you can’t help but let that energy invigorate you a bit. You guys were getting closer to the end of your break, reality would be setting in soon, and you’d be buckling down with school again. You wanted to enjoy the time you had left with your friends.

“I’m so excited to see who’s there,” Kam agrees.

“You can’t be weird about it, though,” Jo warns. “My sister said we have to act like we’re supposed to be there. This is a private thing, they want to have a normal New Year’s Eve.”

“I promise I’ll be my normal self,” Kam holds his hands up in defense, a smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” she mumbles, causing Kam to give her a light shove as you continue to make your way down the street.

When you finally reach the entrance of the building Jo’s sister told you to come to, you’re all speechless. You could see the lobby of the building through the glass doors, and it was fancier than any hotel you’d ever stayed in before.

Jo makes the move first, opening the door and walking in. Kam grabs it from her, holding it for the rest of you as you file in behind her, like a group of ducklings following their mom blindly across the pond.

She speaks with the woman at the front desk, who points you to the hallways where you assume the elevators are. None of you speak as she walks you over and presses the button.

When an elevator finally arrives, there’s an attendant waiting for you inside. You’d had the opportunity to indulge in many extravagant things in life, and have taken those opportunities, but this was a whole other level of fancy.

Jo has a similar conversation with the attendant that she did with the woman at the front desk. He does something on his Ipad before smiling at you all and pressing a button that prompts the doors to close.

“Holy. Fuck,” Colin whispers in your ear, and all you can do is look at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

When the doors open in front of you, the silence from the ride up in the elevator is immediately permeated by the bustle of the party in front of you.

“Have a good time!” The attendant says as you all slowly step across the gap in the floor and into one of the nicest apartments you think you had ever seen in your life.

There’s a few dozen people working their way around the room, no more than 50. You can appreciate the smaller crowd, knowing that being on the street would have been significantly more uncomfortable with the amount of people who gather there every year.

“Jojo!” Katherine’s high pitched voice breaks through the music as you see Jo’s bubbly sister make her way over to you guys.

“Hey Kath,” she murmurs, already being suffocated in a hug.

Katherine pulls away, keeping her hands on Jo’s shoulder in order to keep her close. “How are you? Haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I know,” Jo grimaces. “That’s what happens when you move across the country and rarely call anyone.”

Katherine almost misses a beat, but instead turns to the rest of you.

“It’s so of nice you guys could come! I can’t imagine what it would have been like...out there,” she trails off, looking towards the large windows that overlook Times Square.

Jo mutters ‘“authentic” under her breath as Gia cries out “cold!”

“Exactly!” Katherine turns back to you guys. “I knew I always liked you, Gigi.”

“It’s Gia.”

“Whatevs, Jojo. Go in and get cozy! And don’t embarrass me, please.” It’s scary the smile Katherine has on her face as she disappears back into the crowd. It would look genuine to the naked eye, but she almost looked dead inside when you took a closer look. But, in the wise words of Katherine herself, ‘whatevs.’

“I see the bar,” Colin nods his chin in the opposite direction that Katherine went, and you’re grateful you won’t have to see her so soon again.

“Please,” is all Jo squeaks out before making a beeline for the counter where the bartender stood.

You chuckle, following closely behind.

“The usual?”

You shake your head, stepping up next to Jo to order your own drink instead. “A moscow mule, please.”

You can feel all eyes on you, curiosity peaking at your change of heart. You never strayed from your normal order.

“What?” You ask defensibly, as you turn around to confront their questioning looks.

“Going rogue?” Kam asks.

“Trying out the holiday joy you suggested, Kam. Any objections?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p,’ his smile widening as he realizes you’re letting your walls down for once.

That doesn’t last long after your drink is in your hand, however.

There’s Grayson. Your Christmas miracle. Sitting on the couch, a girl in his lap and a smile on his face. He looks good in a turtleneck, you note, but that doesn’t stop the queasiness settling in your stomach. You knew Christmas miracles were horseshit, but this just felt like a cruel trick.

“What’s with the frown?” Kam asks, standing next to you as everyone else situates themselves with a drink.

“Don’t look right now, but behind you is my supposed Christmas miracle with a girl in his lap.”

Kam whips his head around, scanning the room.

“Dude are you kidding? I said don’t turn,” you grip his arm, forcing him to turn back, but not before he’s spotted the cozy couple. The look of pity on his face unsettles you.

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, taking a sip from your drink. “Don’t be, I knew him for an hour. I will, however, be calling Colin on his shit later.”

“What shit?” Colin asks, coming to stand next to you.

“Your Christmas miracle bullshit.”

A laugh bubbles up from his chest as he quirks a brow. “Oh really?” “Yeah, Grayson’s over there with a girl-”

“Damn, for how quickly obsessed you became with the kid, you really are forgetful.”

You give Colin a question look, waiting for him to continue.

“He has an identical twin. Your Christmas miracle is standing against the staircase. He’s been looking at you since we got to the bar.”

Your turn your head and sure enough, your eyes are locked with Grayson’s. He’s just as captivating as last time, his warm smile on his face once he realizes he’s been spotting. Unlike last time, however, instead of shying away from the eye contact, you can’t seem to stop looking.

“Remember, you have to believe you deserve the Christmas miracle,” Colin whispers in your ear before giving you a not so gentle shove in Grayson’s direction.

“You’re lucky I’m not a violent person,” you say over your shoulder, before making your way over to him. You can feel the excitement tingling in your fingertips that grip your drink as you do your best to be polite to the people you bump into on your way.

Once you’re close enough, Grayson pushes himself off the banister, creating a space for you to stand between the wooden sticks and his large body.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

His voice is deeper than you remember, more delicious if possible. It feels familiar hearing him speak, a comfort you didn’t know you had been missing.

“You’re supposed to say that when you expect to see someone, not when you’re actually surprised.”

He lets out a low laugh, nodding in defeat. “Okay, true. It’s a good surprise, though - at least for me.” He seems a bit less smooth than last time, too. You can feel the nerves coming off him, his confidence lower. You wonder if it’s got to do with the environment you’re in.

You smile up at him, licking your lips in order to drag out the unknown a bit longer. You can’t give it all up right away.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “A real good surprise.”

“Good.”

“Although, you know I gotta ask it.”

His smile falters as he raises his brow. “I think I gotta ask the same thing.”

“You first,” you nod your chin at him, crossing your arms.

“Ethan and I are a friend of a friend to one of the host’s friends. We’re normally not in Jersey for New Year’s, so when they found out we’d be celebrating alone in our mom’s house, we got an invite.”

“A Jersey kid?” You feign disgust, making him laugh as he leans his arm over your head. He smells good, his scent overriding your thoughts for a moment.

“Is that a bad thing?”

You shrug. “Usually. I guess I’ll overlook it, though.”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” he answers cockily.

You giggle, shaking your head at the cheesy comment. “Are you offering me somewhat of a free trial?”

“More like endless coupons with no expiration date.”

This makes you fully laugh, him chuckling with you as you feel your cheeks heat up at the implication of his words.

“You barely know me,” you counter, still unable to look away from his eyes. “What makes you so sure about offering such a good deal to me?”

He shrugs. “Call it a gut feeling.”

You feel your own stomach go crazy at that, the confirmation that he was feeling what you were only heightening how his warmth seemed to radiate off him, everything Grayson flooding your senses.

“Your turn.”

“Hm?” You hum, bringing your drink to your lips.

“What’s gotten you into Madison Beer’s apartment?”

You choke on the liquid you intended on swallowing, coughing to clear your throat. His brows furrow as he brings his hand from above you to your back, rubbing it.

“Oh my god - sorry - I just,” you take in a big breath before standing up straight again, more confident in your lungs. “This is Madison Beer’s apartment?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking around the room. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. “Jo’s sister -”

“Murder eyes Jo?”

“Exactly. She’s been out in LA modeling. When she heard we were gonna be in New York for New Year’s she got us in. This -” you gesture to the room, noticing the more familiar faces you’re seeing now that you’re paying attention. “Totally not my normal scene.”

“So you’re giving everything new a shot right before the year ends?”

“Mhm,” you bring your gaze back to him. “In case I want to take it back and act like it never happened.”

He laughs, licking over his teeth. “Sounds like a solid plan.”

***

It was stupid how well you got along. You didn’t even see any of your other friends the entire night, Grayson keeping you tucked in the corner. You hoped Kam had somehow ran into Madison at some point, but you weren’t inclined enough to leave Grayson to help him with it.

It felt like you guys were somehow meant to be there that night together. Maybe Colin was onto something, maybe this was your (belated) Christmas miracle.

“It was total fate, I’m telling you. The odds we were able to get Mando on our team in the first place, nevermind him being one of the most important people in our lives now.” Grayson shakes his head as he recalls the memories, a reminiscent smile on his face. “You believe in all that, right?”

“What?” You hum, admiring his positivity. Every story, every glimpse into his life he’s given you throughout the night, has all ended in a positive twist. He managed to see the bright side of every situation, despite the horrible shit that’s been thrown his way.

“Fate.”

You sit up a bit straighter, your elbows leaving where they rested on your thighs. Your knee was touching his, your proximity close on the couch due to the amount of people who were sitting there with you. You felt like you were in a bit of a bubble, though. Despite the loud chatter from all around you, the only thing you could pay attention to was Grayson.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” you set your cup down before leaning back against the cushion. His arm that was resting on the top of that cushion drops, landing on your shoulder casually, but you can feel the warmth it immediately brings. “I never really did. I’ve always been the pessimist of the bunch. However,” your eyes find Colin, who’s sat to Grayson’s back. He gives you a wide smile and two thumbs up. You can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your own face as you look back at Grayson. “I’ve recently become a bit of a believer. Why?”

He shrugs. “I mean, what are the odds we not only had the same skate time at one of the most popular skating rinks in the world, but we also then end up at the same New Year’s Eve party?”

You huff, starting to think. “Well, statistically speaking -”

“No,” he laughs, nudging your leg with his own. “Fate isn’t about statistics, or probability. There’s nothing explainable about it.”

“My friend Colin is calling it a Christmas miracle,” you admit.

“So that’s what your friend meant when she interrupted us on the ice?”

“Oh god,” you groan, covering your face in the same manner as last time, shaking your head. “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey,” he chuckles, grabbing one of your wrists to expose your face to him again. “Don’t worry about it, it was funny.”

“It shouldn’t have been funny, though,” you whine, a pout forming on your lips.

He cocks his head to the side, a smirk settling on his face. “What should it have been?”

Before you can respond, the countdown from 60 begins, and suddenly everyone is standing and chanting around you, buzzing to start the new year.

58, 57, 56, 55

Grayson stands, holding a hand out for you to take. You place your hand in his, standing right next to him, there being little room for you two between the couch and the coffee table causing your chests to be pressed against one another. You look up at him, the same warm eyes he’s had for you meeting your gaze again.

“Romantic.”

“Huh?” He leans closer to you, his ear so close to your mouth that you were tempted to nip his earlobe.

“It should have been romantic.”

24, 23, 22, 21

He lifts his head so he can look at you again, close enough for his nose to brush against yours. One of his hands reaches around you, finding a resting spot on your lower back. His other hand comes to your cheek, his thumb rubbing the skin there. You grip his sweater at his sides, keeping him close to you.

“Ten, nine, eight,” Grayson starts counting down with the rest of the party, and you follow suit.

As everyone screams around you, celebrating the new year, you feel Grayson’s lips on yours. It feels like a movie, like the world is celebrating how amazing you guys feel right now as you finally physically connect with the person it feels like you were always meant to be with.

His lips are warm and smooth against yours, his every intention clear as he kisses you with a passion you’ve never experienced before. Your every nerve is on fire, your heart in flames as you keep yourself grounded by the grip you have on him.

He only pulls away as you feel champagne fall on the both of you, the confetti that was launched now sticking to you from the liquid. You can’t help the laugh that comes out of you at the craziness of it all, the fact that you just kissed the man in front of you, the man still in your grip, the man who still had his hands on you hard to comprehend.

Colin was right. Christmas miracles were most certainly real, and you deserved this one.

Grayson smirks down at you, leaning down to peck your lips once more before speaking. “Romantic enough for you?”

#Grayson dolan #Grayson dolan imagine #Grayson dolan fanfic #Grayson dolan fanfiction #Grayson dolan concept #Grayson dolan blurb #Grayson dolan smut #Grayson dolan writing #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fanfiction #dolan twins concept #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins smut

[cakesunflower]

Room 304 [C.H. One Shot]

Summary: Hooking up with her half-brother’s ex-best friend probably wasn't the best idea. But no matter what Maeve told herself, it wasn’t entirely a bad idea, either.

Important Note: There’s, like, a 98% chance that this entire fic is not going to show up if you read it on a desktop. This fic is 29,440 words, written in 3 days, and it’s my baby. I can’t believe I finished writing all of this, but I’m hoping you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. But, yeah, the entirety of the fic probably won't show up on desktop because it’s so fucking long, so if you want to read all of it ((which I assume you would)) please read it on your mobile Tumblr app. And please, please, please let me know what you think of this fic. I planned every bit of this fic down to the detail, and I would love to know what you think. Also, the cute little lyric edit in the middle of the mood board was made by the lovely @easiertostayy 

Without further ado..... Happy reading!

Day 1

Returning from the bathroom and settling on her seat, Maeve wasn’t surprised to see Lina taking a picture of her freshly arrived food before posting it to her social media, placing the napkin on her lap and eyeing her own grilled chicken sandwich. The Bryant Park Grill was one of Maeve’s favorite spots; the flowers they were surrounded by on the rooftop restaurant along with the string lights, tabled umbrellas and view of the park made for a great place to have lunch or dinner after a day in the city. So when Lily had told Maeve she’d booked a table, the blonde caught the next bus into the city and met up with her best friend, where the two of them sat with the sun setting behind the buildings that began to glitter with lights brightening their surroundings. Peaceful and much needed.

But before Maeve could even reach for her sandwich, her eyes caught sight of two familiar faces talking with the hostess, and Maeve realized in that moment that it had been damn near a year since she’d last seen Calum Hood. She couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away, taking in the way the black bomber jacket hugged his broad shoulders and dark curls subtly danced in the light breeze that blew by every few seconds. It was an instinctive reaction, to admire how good he looked, smiling at the hostess as she grabbed two menus and led him—and Michael, who Maeve realized was accompanying him—to an available table.

A table that was right by her and Lina, with an empty one right in between. Maeve didn’t miss the second Calum’s eyes landed on her, stopping right next to the hostess by the table as his dark eyes met her bluish-green, lips parting in too late realization of just who he was about to sit near.

Before either of them could say anything, could even acknowledge one another, it was Michael who broke the silence when he confusedly followed Calum’s gaping gaze, a startled laugh escaping the tattooed blonde. “Oh, shit, Maeve!” he exclaimed familiarly, voice loud and happy at the sight of her as he pulled his chair towards his table. “How’re you doing?” His green eyes shifted to the red head across from Maeve, nodding his head as he added just as sincerely, “Hey, Lina.”

While her best friend waved as she smiled around the straw she was sipping her Moscow mule from, Maeve managed to find her voice, returning Michael’s smile as she said, “I’m good, yeah.” Calum slowly sat down opposite of Michael, just to Maeve’s right, as she looked at him once more before adding almost gingerly, “Hey, Calum. Been a while.”

She wanted to instantly cringe as she said that last bit—of course it’s been a while. The last time she’d seen him, things had gone to hell a bit too fast, beyond anyone’s control, and she doubted anyone needed a reminder. But the memory was still there; Maeve could feel it in the awkwardness that pursed her lips, could sense it in the way Calum’s hands were fisted on his knees under the table. Briefly, she wondered if this was genuinely difficult for him—to be around the half-sister of the man who used to be one of his closest friends. A man who, the last time Calum saw him, had given him a busted lip and left with a broken friendship he had no intention of fixing.

The brunette man nodded with his gaze on the table in front of him before he finally forced himself to look at Maeve. God, it was awkward. They all knew it, could feel it. While Michael occasionally still hung out with Ashton, neither Maeve nor her half-brother had seen or heard from Calum for almost a year. It was like as soon as Ashton and Calum’s friendship had fallen apart, Maeve stuck by her brother and cut Calum out of her life, even if his role hadn’t been as significant as it was in Ashton’s. It could be blind loyalty, because to this day Maeve didn’t truly understand what exactly had happened between the two men, and it was no use asking Ashton because he was as stubborn as they come. He didn’t talk about it, and that was that.

“It has,” Calum agreed, voice carrying the familiar rasp and hint of lisp she hadn’t heard in a while. “How’s uh—how’re your parents?”

She wondered if he was about to ask about Ashton before stopping himself, wondered if he missed his once close friend and wished she knew if her brother felt the same way. Lightly clearing her throat, Maeve nodded as she answered, “Yeah, they’re good. All good. Yours?”

Calum rolled his lips into his mouth before offering a quick smile, like it almost pained him to do. “Everyone’s great,” he responded, grabbing the menu the hostess had left for them and turning his attention to it.

The conversation dissolved after that and Maeve tried not to focus on the air around them being tense or awkward as she ate her food, throwing a wide eyed, helpless look towards Lina. Her friend got the message, and Maeve gave Lina a relieved smile as her best friend started up a conversation with her, leaving the boys to decide on their meals. But still, Maeve couldn’t help the way her eyes would not so innocently glance over to Calum whenever she reached for her drink and sipped at it, looking at the tattooed man from the corner of her eye.

The topic of the Big Fight—capital B, capital F—was basically a taboo around Ashton. He never talked about it, and no one ever brought up Calum around him either, despite the two of them having many mutual friends. As she took in the sharp line of his jaw and silver rings on his fingers, Maeve wondered if it was the same for Calum, if he turned into a stubborn, hostile fool if her brother was brought up. Maeve listened to Lina talk, absently twisting her lips to the side. Boys were so ridiculous.

Despite the initial awkwardness, the rest of lunch wasn’t too bad. Michael often pulled the girls in for a conversation or two before they went back to their own discussions, and each time Calum and Maeve remained silent if the other spoke. Maeve couldn’t help but think Calum didn’t speak directly to her because of everything that happened, and so she stayed quiet in return. As if they had come to a silent agreement that speaking to one another wasn’t allowed—an agreement neither of them quite remembered signing off on.

By the time Maeve and Lina finished their food and paid the bill, the boys were halfway through theirs. Getting up, Maeve shouldered her purse and followed Lina around the table, and stopped at the guys’ table to say, “See you guys; it was good to see you.”

She purposefully locked her gaze with Calum’s as she said the last bit, hoping that he would see that she genuinely did mean it as a breeze had the ends of her short blonde hair tickling her collarbones. Maeve wasn’t entirely sure if her skin prickled from that or from Calum’s eyes intensely holding a gaze she initiated. He remained seated, relaxed in the chair and right arm rested on the table as he gripped his bottle of beer, expression so unreadable that it almost had Maeve bristling on the spot.

She was about to regret even saying anything until Calum finally offered a nod, subtly tipping the mouth of his bottle towards her as he stated, “You too, Maeve.”

Though it was just a three word response, it was one that left Maeve satisfied as she shot the boys one last smile before following Lina out. And when Maeve got home, after a bus ride and car drive to her neighborhood that was unwittingly spent thinking of a tattooed brunette she hadn’t seen in a year, she caught sight of her half-brother who happened to be over rather than at his own place, and the words spilled out of her mouth.

As she shut the door of the fridge after greeting Ashton, pulling out a bottle of water as he helped himself to the bag of veggie sticks in the cabinet, Maeve stated, “Guess who I ran into today.”

“Taylor Swift?” Ashton joked, grinning dimply at his own unfunny reply as he dug a hand into the bag he was holding, giving a shake of his head to move away the dark blonde strand of hair falling over his eye.

Maeve didn’t even grace him with a roll of her eyes as she swallowed the cold sip of water, coincidentally swallowing down the hesitance as she leaned back against the stainless steel fridge and responded, “Calum.”

The expected reaction was almost immediate in how Ashton’s expression instantly fell, features darkening at the mention of his old friend. Maeve watched him, head tilting ever so slightly, almost challengingly, as she noted the way Ashton thinned his lips. She even heard the crunch of the plastic bag he was holding, grip tightening at the sound of the name he hadn’t uttered in a year. All signs of joking vanished from Ashton’s features, bright eyes a darker shade of hazel and expression stoically grave.

It was palpable how heavy the tension in the room settled, all by a mention of Calum, reminding Maeve of the unforgettable fact that her brother was still pissed off at history. Still, Maeve bit the inside of her cheek before adding, “He was having lunch with Mic—”

“Didn’t fucking ask,” Ashton cut her off, harsh and unkind and final as he fisted the top of the bag of chips and walked out of the kitchen with powerful strides, the muscle in his jaw jumping and the veins in his arms threatening. Maeve watched him go, eyebrows raised, before hearing the sound of the television in the living room clicking on and Ashton raising the volume as a way of drowning out whatever she may have to say.

She gave a shake of her head at his absence and pettiness, scoffing softly as she looked the other way towards the window above the sink looking out into the backyard. Sure, she’d expected him to react as such at the mention of Calum, but it never failed to strike her as absurd. Was whatever happened between them really so bad that talking about it would only flare up Ashton’s already thinning temper on the matter, or was it truly so ludicrous and trivial that Ashton didn’t talk about it because he knew it would only paint him as someone holding onto a grudge that’d be better of letting go of? At this point, Maeve believed it could honestly go both ways.

Day 22

The door of the store thudded closed followed by the sound of footsteps, informing Maeve that someone had arrived rather than left, and she focused on finishing folding a men’s polo shirt while welcoming with the customary, “Hi, how are you?”

She looked up by the end of her greeting, polite smile turning into a surprised parting of lips as she looked at Calum. They both underwent a simultaneous moment of recognition, Calum recovering before her as the corners of his lips quirked into a small smile as he returned, “Hey, Maeve.” His dark eyes glanced around the store before landing on her once more. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

The blonde placed the folded shirt onto the appropriate stack, the table of polos separating her and Calum as he took the few steps towards her. The store wasn’t too busy, the music playing through the company playlist louder than the chatter of coworkers and few customers around, so Maeve busied herself by recovering the men’s section. The last person she expected to see was Calum walk in.

“Someone’s gotta pay for my makeup habit,” she responded lightly, a small joke to ease whatever tension that may remain between them since that evening of running into each other in New York. It had been almost three weeks since they first saw one another after everything, and Maeve hadn’t been entirely sure if she’d see Calum again, writing off that day as a fluke. Wasn’t really sure if his presence even called for the hours she had spent thinking about him, which was an unnerving fact on its own. Rubbing her hands down her jeans, she asked, “Can I help you with anything?”

He blinked, almost as if he was just then realizing that she’d offered to be the one to assist him if he needed it. Maeve considered if he would prefer it if someone else helped him should he require it, and couldn’t help herself from adding pointedly, “Unless you’d rather me get one of my coworkers?”

Calum’s dark eyes looked into her bluish-green, the color of her eyes never one he could ever figure out, before his eyebrows drew together ever so slightly. Like he was genuinely confused at her question. He responded to her inquiry with one of his own, “Why would I want that?”

Maeve almost wanted to laugh. She hoped he wasn’t being serious. She saw the question swimming in his eyes and her smile faltered slightly, suddenly filled with the same exasperation she felt towards Ashton when Calum and the Big Fight were involved. So Maeve shrugged, eyebrows raised challengingly, arms folded on top of the blue and yellow stacks of polos as she coolly responded, “You tell me.”

He was silent for a few moments, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek as he accepted the fact that her statements were justified. Calum nodded to himself, dark curls dancing across his forehead, before he told her, “Dad’s birthday is coming up and apparently anythin’ I brought isn’t dressy enough.”

Maeve’s gaze dropped from Calum’s face, taking in the clothes he was wearing, aware that it was probably a sin for a shirt to fit someone that well and feeling the sudden urge to touch the silver chain necklace he wore along with the matching bracelet on his wrist. She appreciated the tattoos on his arm that were in view, and from some of the looks Calum was receiving upon his arrival, Maeve knew she wasn’t the only one who did. She bit back the urge to swallow, meeting his gaze once more and keeping the even tone as she mused, “Yeah, athletic shorts and Zeppelin tees don’t exactly scream formal wear.”

Calum’s chin dropped to his chest and Maeve didn’t miss the smile that quirked his lips as he let out a short chuckle, hands splaying by his sides before he slapped his thighs and said to her, “Kind of why I’m here.”

It was a cute sound, his breathy chuckle, and Maeve’s own mouth tilted at the sound of it before gesturing to her right. “Button downs are to the right, and if you want dress pants they’re towards the back.”

He was capable of picking out his own clothes, Maeve knew, not wanting to hold his hand through the process, and was only proven correct when she was running the fitting room. She was folding the go-backs when he walked in with two pairs of pants and a few button downs of different colors draped over his arm, and Maeve shot him that close mouthed smile she often shot customers while unlocking one of the fitting room doors for him, cringing when he walked in and shut the door. Her customer service smile was for customers, not Calum.

Maeve could vaguely hear Calum shuffling around in his stall over the music as she kept folding the small hill of clothes that were on the fitting room table left by customers. She thought of Calum, and of how she hadn’t seen him for a year and suddenly had seen him twice in the span of three weeks, wondering if there were any more run-ins with him she’d have to face. He was more of a presence in her life than he was in Ashton’s, even if it had been two interactions weeks apart, and that fact kind of saddened Maeve.

Ashton and Calum were so close, best friends, and to see Ashton grow so hostile over the mention of Calum and Calum to feel whatever level of awkwardness he may at the sight of her was just a reminder of how much things had changed. Obviously Maeve didn’t share Ashton’s dislike for Calum—she didn’t have enough information to given that the reason for the Big Fight was still unclear—but she wasn’t entirely sure where she stood with Calum. Granted, they weren’t as close as Ashton and Calum, but the latter had still been her friend, and Maeve had only abandoned him because of her loyalty to her half-brother.

And she’d never tell Ashton, but Maeve had kind of missed having Calum around. He’d always been the quietest of her brother’s friends, but the silence that followed once he was gone wasn’t the kind she was used to.

She heard the door open, and in the midst of folding a pair of jeans, Maeve glanced over to see Calum step out of the stall, one hand reached behind him to make sure the door didn’t close all the way through. His eyes instantly found Maeve, but she was too busy taking in the way the baby blue button down hugged his figure, the short sleeves wrapping around his biceps a bit too well. Calum smoothed it down with his hands, the shirt tucked into fitted black pants before running a hand through his hair, pushing the curls back and away from his face.

Maeve could feel her mouth dry at the sight of him, giving herself a moment to admire the man in front of her because the shock of seeing him the first time at the restaurant hadn’t given her the opportunity to do so. She could see the chain necklace peeking out just a bit from under the collar and Maeve wasn’t exactly sure when he started wearing that specific piece of jewelry but, shit, she was glad it was there.

“What do you think?” Calum asked, raising an eyebrow at her as he held his hands out as a way of presenting himself. “This good enough?”

Good enough didn’t do him justice. His curls were messy and the tattoos under the somewhat formal wear provided Calum with a boyishly handsome aura that Maeve actually felt herself tightening her grip on the jeans she was holding. She was deaf to the music playing throughout the store, all too aware of the quickened pace of her heart, wondering when exactly Calum Hood was able to have such a pulling effect on her.

“Uh, yeah, it is,” she quickly responded, not wanting to stand around just openly staring at him. The last thing she needed was to give Calum an open invitation to her betraying thoughts. Not when he was already watching her expectantly.

Calum looked down at himself, taking in the shade of the shirt before saying, “I like it, but ‘m gonna try another one too.”

He turned to head back into the fitting room, and right before the door shut, Maeve quickly recalled the various colors he’d taken inside and found herself blurting out, “Try the yellow.”

Calum paused at her unexpected suggestion, glancing at her over his shoulder, and Maeve forced herself to not visibly cringing at her spontaneous burst as Calum glanced away before meeting her gaze once more and nodding. She even saw the ghost of a smile tilt at his lips before he disappeared inside, and as soon as the door shut Maeve raised the folded jeans she held and pressed her forehead against the denim, squeezing her eyes shut so tightly that she could feel it in her temples and wondering what her damn issue was.

It wasn’t even a big deal but, God, her conscious wouldn’t stop telling her she probably just embarrassed herself. Over the color of a damn shirt.

But then the door opened a few moments later and Calum stepped out, and Maeve felt the air rushing out of her lungs at the sight of him in a sunny colored button down, not at all harsh on the eyes, looking absolutely golden against his inked brown skin. This time, when Calum’s expectant eyes met hers, Maeve could see the hint of mirth dancing in the dark brown irises, could hear the smirk in his voice as he quirked a knowing eyebrow and asked, “Better?”

She hugged the jeans to her chest, catching the smirk that actually did make an appearance on his full lips because he definitely caught the way she swallowed the lump in her throat before, almost enchantedly, breathing out, “Better.”

When Calum proceeded to leave the fitting room after changing back into his own clothes, offering to hang the shirts he didn’t want from where he’d picked them up so she didn’t have to, he surprised Maeve by stopping in the entrance of the fitting rooms. She raised an eyebrow at him as she folded a graphic tee, looking at him with a combination of expectation and confusion, especially when she noticed the furrow in his eyebrows like he was conflicted about something, the previous relaxed expression he wore nowhere in sight as his features tightened. Something had changed.

And when she noted the muscle in his jaw ticking, Maeve knew it couldn’t be good.

What he said only proved her correct. “You know, I understood when Ashton cut me out of his life. But, I gotta say Maeve—” Calum sucked his teeth, finally looking at her, and she felt herself tense up at the disappointment and hurt that was in his eyes, neither of which she had been expecting. “—I didn’t think ya had it in ya to drop someone like that so quickly.”

Maeve stopped what she was doing, Calum’s words freezing her in place as she gaped up at him with widened eyes and parted lips. One corner of his lips was curled in resignation, disillusionment, and Maeve found herself hating that she was on the receiving end of that look. The back of her neck started heating up, spreading to her cheeks at the unexpected confrontation, and Maeve began stammering as she tried to reason, “I—Ash’s my brother, Calum. I couldn’t—”

“Stay friends with the guy your big brother punched out? Yeah, clearly.” He scoffed, derisive and unimpressed, only serving to heat up her face more. Cutting off Calum when Ashton did had always been something Maeve had been iffy about, had told herself she didn’t need to stop being friends with someone just because Ashton had. But then again, Calum was Ashton’s friend before he ever was Maeve’s—he had been one of Ashton’s best friends. So what right did Maeve really have keeping Calum around?

She just never expected him to be upset about it.

With a shake of his head, Calum licked his lips and looked ahead, throat working as he continued in a voice that was gruffer than his usual rasp. “You have your loyalties, I get it. But things went to shit between me and Ashton—not me and you. The least you could’ve done was give me a heads up that I was losing two friends instead of one.”  

He walked away and Maeve was stunned into silence to do anything but watch him go, wondering if the heaviness in her chest was an inkling of what Calum must’ve felt a year ago.

Day 25

The music playing through Ainsworth was almost deafening, making it damn near impossible for Maeve to hear what her friend Audra was screaming into her ear. But Maeve was enjoying herself, nursing a margarita after two rounds of tequila shots, sticking to her drink for the most part. It was a Thursday night and after her shift she’d quickly gone home to change before meeting up with her friends in Hoboken, keeping company in the restaurant/bar by the water as she enjoyed her drink after splitting a mac and cheese burger with Lina.

Maeve was having a good time, she really was; the music was good and the food had her full and the two rounds of tequila shots had been free for her and her girl friends. And yet, she was alarmingly aware of the eyes that would ever so often find hers, dark yet glittering under the dim bar lights, and as much as she tried not to look his way, Maeve couldn’t stop herself from every so often locking gazes with Calum.

He was sat at the other end of the bar and as the bass of the music resonated through her chest, Maeve wondered what he was doing at a restaurant in Hoboken when he apparently lived in the city. The sight of Michael and a few of their old high school buddies answered her question, and Maeve did her best to focus on spending her time with her own friends rather than looking towards the man who had all but told her off just a few days ago.

It wasn’t until she was done with her margarita that she looked over, eyes locking with Calum’s, did she still on her seat on the barstool. Through the moving crowd between them, Maeve could see Calum watching her, couldn’t tell what he was thinking because of the stoic mask he wore on features too gorgeous not to admire as she looked right back.

But then Calum looked away, and Maeve’s heart sank with the beat drop of the song when she couldn’t figure out if Calum hadn’t found what he was looking for, or if he was just disappointed by what he did see. Her grip on the edge of the bar tightened, silently asking herself why she cared, why the weight of his gaze burned her skin in a fire she didn’t want to put out, and Maeve let out a breath.

She wasn’t anywhere near tipsy as she stood up, heels of her feet clacking against the wooden floor as she excused herself from her friends and began making her way to the bathroom with her purse in her hand. The breath of relief escaped her as soon as she stepped inside, the music from the bar muffled as the door shut, and Maeve approached the sink as she ran her fingers through short, wavy blonde strands. Looking at her reflection, at the flush of her cheeks and the pink lips she’d been nibbling on as soon as she caught sight of Calum, Maeve knew exactly what was going on.

Accepting it was just proving to be difficult.

There was a longing that coiled in the pit of her stomach, one that had begun to form the other day in the fitting room of the store and had only intensified the second Calum stepped foot into Ainsworth. Pressing her palms on the cold marble of the sink, Maeve dramatically wondered if this was God or the universe playing some kind of prank on her; as if her, without provocation or warning, being attracted to the one man her brother seemed to hate was the funniest joke anyone could come up with.

A huff escaped her pink lips as she glared at herself in the mirror; the only one to blame was herself, really. And maybe Calum for popping up in her life more in that past few days than he had in the past year.

Mostly the blame went to herself, though, and her eagerly relentless body’s equally relentless yearning of a touch only Calum could somehow satiate.

“Great,” Maeve muttered to herself, her little bathroom trip resolving nothing and only serving to add onto the tension in her muscles. She pulled open the door and began making her way back to where her friends were, the music once again loud and clear, and as Maeve looked ahead she found herself slowing to a stop, heart dropping at the sight of her brother and Calum standing a bit too close for comfort. Standing closer than they probably had in the past year.

Maeve caught sight of Lina, who even though she was tipsy, was fully aware of the situation and knew how badly it could go. Everyone seemed to sense the suffocating tension in the room, from their friends to the bartenders to any other customer around that wasn’t part of their group. Maeve noticed Michael and Luke hovering by Calum and Ashton respectively, standing tall and ready to interfere should things got out of hand—Maeve wished they’d step in right away before things even had the chance of escalating.

Hesitantly, she took a few steps closer, the click of her heels drowned by the music that was still playing, bluish-green eyes widened in alarm as she heard the deep baritone of Calum’s lowered voice say to Ashton, “If you’ve got somethin’ to say, say it to my face. Didn’t seem to have a problem doin’ it last time.”

His tone was chillingly cool, standing toe to toe with her half-brother, and Maeve’s dry throat tightened when she saw Ashton’s hazel eyes twitch into narrowing, never once taking his gaze off of the man who was once his closest confidante. While Maeve wasn’t one to get scared easily, her chest still tightened at the sight in front of her; the angered expression on her brother’s face wasn’t one she was fond of—especially not in this intensity—nor did she enjoy the rigidness of Calum’s back as he clenched his hands on either side of them.

God, what had happened to the two of them? If she didn’t believe it before, then Maeve definitely did now that the reasons for the Big Fight were probably some that were strong enough to damage a friendship like it did this one. She could just never see Ashton and Calum fighting over something enough to get them to where they were now, and she found herself hating that this was where they now stood: angered and dark and ready to throw a punch in the face of a man that each once considered a brother.

Ashton’s mouth shifted, as if he was trying to keep his lips pressed together to keep back the snarl from escaping, and Maeve’s heart beat a bit too quickly to keep in time with the music playing as everyone watched on with bated breath. Like it was some damn TV show happening right in front of them. Ashton then lifted his chin, eyes never leaving Calum’s, as he finally gave a single shake of his head and a dismissive scoff. “Not worth my time.”

He was turning away, something Maeve hadn’t expected him to do, but her relief was short lived when Calum released an unsurprised and mocking gibe, “Hate to break it to you, but your time isn’t something to be fuckin’ worthy of. Just ‘cause you’ve got your own head stuck up your ass, doesn’t mean everyone else does, too.”

The air rushed out of Maeve’s lungs, only being given a second to exasperatedly wonder why Calum would push Ashton like that—especially with a couple of those words being similar to those uttered on the night of the Big Fight—before her brother’s body jerked forward—not to hit Calum, she could tell, but to get in his face. Still, it wasn’t something anyone was keen on happening, so Luke and one of their other friends stepped in to hold Ashton back, the sudden movement of his body bringing forth a clamor among everyone, exclamations released in hopes of stopping a fight before it got started.

Maeve had gasped, taking a step back, but instead of watching her brother being calmed down by his friends, Maeve’s eyes slid over to Calum, who still stood where he had been. He gave a shake of his head, as if he was over the whole thing already, absently telling Michael and his other friends that he was fine, it was all good, nothing to worry about.

Fuck, Maeve hadn’t even noticed Luke walking Ashton out of the bar, her gaze glued to Calum as he ran a hand down his face, rings glittering as his eyes met hers. Calum pursed his lips as Maeve’s buzzing phone in her hand went ignored, too busy watching Calum take in her alarmed reaction before he broke their gaze and looked away. As if he couldn’t stand to watch her look at him the way she was—dismayed and startled all in one.

Lina rushed over to her just as Maeve looked at the text she’d received from Ashton.

Luke and I are heading to Weehawken. I’m sorry for ruining your night, text me when you get home.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Maeve absently assured Lina as she texted Ashton back, pocketing her phone and looking up at her friend. Just as she did, her eyes went over Lina’s shoulder to catch sight of Calum stalking out of the bar, tall and looming over everyone else as he walked outside. She watched him go, moving with purpose, and Maeve’s eyebrows knitted together as she felt the impulse to follow after him.

Afterall, she needed to apologize.

What Calum had said to her at work the other day had stuck by Maeve, and it unsettled her. Sure, she had felt a sense of loyalty to her half-brother, but maybe just dropping Calum cold hadn’t been the best way to go about it. Like he had said, she could’ve given him some kind of heads up. Or. . . She could’ve just kept the friendship.

She knew that Luke still occasionally hung out with Calum, and knew Michael did the same with Ashton—even if those instances were exceedingly rare. It was kind of like Luke stayed with Ashton and Michael stuck with Calum during the divorce type situation, which made all of it sound more amusing than it ever was. So maybe Maeve could’ve kept the friendship she’d formed with Calum over the years. Ashton probably wouldn’t have liked it, Maeve may have felt some small semblance of guilt, but Calum had been her friend, too. And the way she just abandoned him. . . It wasn’t fair.

Leading Lina back to their small group of friends, Maeve quickly said to Audra, “Hey, keep an eye on her, huh?” to which her friend nodded as she put an arm around Lina before Maeve began making her way towards the exit.

It was kind of cold outside, the March air only getting chillier due to the body of water the restaurant was across from. The New York skyline glittered up ahead, the buildings in perfect view, but Maeve’s gaze was drawn to the spark of light to her left, releasing a silent breath as she watched Calum shove the lighter back in his pocket and grip the cigarette in his mouth between his two fingers. He was leaned against the brick wall, the light above the service door next to him glowing over him as he leaned his head back and released a cloud of grey smoke.

Maeve wasn’t entirely sure how to approach him, but as she began making her way over, she found herself lightly musing, “Looks like I owe you both my apology and Ashton’s.”

Not the best opener, but it’d have to do.

Calum opened his eyes, straightening his head as he watched her near him. The end of the cigarette glowed a bright ember before he pulled it out, exhaling the smoke through his nose as his expression remained professionally indifferent. How he internalized things, Maeve would never know. “If your brother wanted to apologize, he would’ve,” Calum replied throatily, free hand shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket. His left foot was propped against the wall behind him, bent at the knee. “What’re you apologizin’ for?”

Maeve pressed her tongue to the back of her bottom teeth as she looked at him. If she focused enough, she knew she’d be able to see the shadows of his eyelashes against his cheeks, but she also admired the way they hollowed when his lips wrapped around the cigarette. Calum looked so calm and collected, not at all like the man who was about to get into a fight just moments before.

Finding her voice, Maeve spoke up, “You were right ’bout what you said the other day.” She took a few steps closer, the distance between them minimal, as she absently played with her fingers. Calum watched her coolly, eyes never leaving her, as she added earnestly, “I shouldn’t have just dropped you the way I did. It was a shitty situation and I felt like I had to be on Ash’s side but—it wasn’t right and—and I’m sorry.”

She hoped he’d hear the genuine sincerity in her voice, would hear the apology she was trying to convey because she really did regret piling on more to an already awful situation. Maeve had a feeling that a friendship breakup hurt more than a relationship breakup, and while she hadn’t been as close to Calum as Ashton once was, the former had undergone two at the same time and Maeve resented that she had any part of it.

Another billow of smoke curled out of his lips, and Maeve stood silently under his gaze. The music from inside the bar, and from another one a few ways down, could still be heard along with the distant sounds of cars driving by. But otherwise it was silent between them and Maeve wrapped her arms around herself, the full sleeved fitted crop top not doing much to keep her warm in the chilly March night air. Still, she’d rather focus on the goosebumps raised because of the cold rather than the twist of her stomach in anticipation of how Calum would respond.

Eyes on her, Calum pushed against the wall, placing the cigarette in his mouth and surprising Maeve as he silently shrugged off his leather jacket. She watched his actions, tracking every movement, breath hitching when he stepped towards her, his looming figure taking up her personal space deliciously as she caught a whiff of the alluring woody and fresh cologne he wore. Her gaze lifted upwards, wanting it to be continuously locked with Calum’s darker ones, desperately wanting to figure out what exactly was swimming within his brown irises as he draped his jacket around her shoulders, the somewhat weighty material hanging off her frame.

Calum stood in front of her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body sink into her skin, fingers itching to brush away the dark curls across his forehead as she peered up at him. She was embraced by the scent of him, only fueling her need for him, and Maeve was slowly starting to accept that it wasn’t something she could ignore. And, shit, it was a bad idea—a terrible one—but Calum’s figure towered over her and he was already beginning to overwhelm her senses, his presence only drawing her in like a magnet that could sense its other half.

Her gaze dangerously dropped to his lips, pink and full, as Calum responded raspily, “At least you own up to your mistakes.”

The near whisper of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, not having anything to do with the weather, and that familiar desirable twist of her stomach tightened considerably, nearly knocking the wind out of her lungs. If Calum was aware of the effect he so suddenly had on her, he expertly didn’t show it. To be able to hide his expressions so effortlessly. . . Maeve solemnly wondered just how much Calum had been hurt to be able to do so.

A regretful smile tilted Maeve’s lips, pressed together as she pulled the lapels of his jacket closer together. His scent clung to her readily as Maeve took a breath, light eyes meeting his darker ones as she spoke through a breathless tone, “If I could make it up to you. . .”

Something shifted in his eyes, alluring and magnetic, and for the first time Maeve saw something in his gaze that wasn’t hesitant wariness. She followed the motion of his tongue briefly poking out to wet his lower lip and the knots in the pit of Maeve’s stomach only tightened delightfully as his hummed, “I can think of a way.”

His right hand got rid of the cigarette, dropping it in the metal trash next to the restaurant before he cupped her face once he brushed the blonde strands away from her face. His touch sent a jolt through her body, inhaling a shaky breath through parted lips, unable to pull her blue eyes away from his brown, too lost in them to do anything but anticipate what she knew to be coming next.

Calum was close, so close, and Maeve’s heart was thundering in her chest quicker than the bass of the music playing in the bar, waiting, waiting, waiting for him to just close the gap between them. God, it was a bad idea, but Maeve was ready to throw caution to the wind, was ready to forget about the potential consequences of hooking up with the one guy her brother couldn’t stand. All she wanted to do was give in to the sensation of Calum’s body pulling hers in, give in to the unexpected need she found herself drowning in, that came like a slap to the face. The aftermath was meant to be thought about after.

She saw the mirth dance across his eyes, and suddenly Maeve was aware that Calum was waiting for her to make the next move both of them were aching for. So she let out a breath and with the help of the heels on her boots, tilted her chin up to close the distance, eyes shutting as soon as her lips met Calum’s.

They leaned into each other, Calum’s hand going from her cheek to the back of her head, fingers threading through the blonde strands to keep her close as their lips got to know one another in a slow yet eager dance. Maeve’s skin felt like it was on fire as Calum kissed her, tongue finding hers while she felt his free arm wrap around the exposed expanse of her waist under the jacket to pull her even closer.

Her own hands gripped the front of his shirt, sinking into him greedily as every single nerve in her body came to life by having him so close. Any thought not pertaining to this moment didn’t have a place in her mind; all Maeve could focus on was the feel of Calum’s fingers in her hair, arm keeping her close, and lips moving with hers. The music had drowned out and the chill of the night was replaced by the warmth Calum was providing, and she wanted more.

They parted, heavy breaths and pounding hearts with foreheads pressed together, and Maeve’s eyes remained closed because she already felt so dizzy as Calum quickly breathed out, “Wanna take you home.”

It would be embarrassing how badly she wanted that too, if she cared. Maeve shook her head, opening her eyes only to look at Calum’s lips; so kissed and pink. “Not an option,” she responded through a gentle gasp when she felt his fingers dig into her skin, cold rings only exciting her more. All she wanted to do was take Calum home, but that would be a risk given that Ashton had the habit of crashing there rather than his own apartment.

Calum let out a throaty chuckle, nose pressed against hers and lips only barely brushing across hers as he started, “Unless you wanna wait half an hour to get to my place—”

Oh, fuck no. No way was Maeve patient enough for that, and by the tight grip Calum had on her, she knew he wasn’t, either. “I’ve got an idea.”

Somehow, in their desperation for one another, both Calum and Maeve managed to escape their friends. She wasn’t sure, nor did she care, what Calum said to his buddies to excuse himself from the bar, but Maeve told Audra, “If anyone asks, I’m sleeping over your place,” in case Ashton ended up asking and while her friend eyed her questioningly, she agreed after Maeve promised to explain later. She didn’t care who knew, so long as it wasn’t Ashton or her parents or anyone who would run their mouth.

Soon enough, Maeve and Calum had left Ainsworth and walked down the streets of Hoboken, the destination Maeve had in mind not too far off—especially since everything in this small town was within walking distance. It was only a five minute walk, her heels clicking and his Doc Martens thudding against the pavement, and it was nice.

The city skyline was in continuous view as they went, and while the reason for them leaving the bar wasn’t lost on either of them, the anticipation and excitement still brewing, it didn’t stop the two from engaging in a conversation. Calum was quiet, that hadn’t changed in the past year Maeve hadn’t seen him, but he listened and he responded when it best fit. It didn’t feel awkward or forced; hell, it didn’t even feel like they were two people on their way to find a place to finish what they started. It felt good, and for the time being, Maeve tried not to dwell on the ominous thought of that not being the best thing.

Because this was someone her brother couldn’t stand to be in the same room as. This was someone who she already had a somewhat complicated history with. But it’d just be one night, right? One night of forgetting all of that and allowing herself to give into something that needed to be satiated. Maeve kept telling herself she’d never felt such an instant attraction to someone before, that it was about time she gave into her thoughts of finding Calum attractive for years now in this one night. That’s what she kept reassuring herself with, even though there was a mocking voice in the back of her mind telling her that she was betraying her brother—that there was no way this would only last one night.

Calum stopped, looking up at the pink and blue neon sign with its colors washing across his skin and dancing against his eyes. There were a few cars scattered around the parking lot, the lights in few of the rooms behind the curtains on and telling them they wouldn’t be the only occupants. Maeve saw the incredulous look he wore, head tilted up and a disbelieving scoff escaping him as he sounded, “You gotta be kidding me.” He turned his head to look down at Maeve, who was trying to suppress her own amused and somewhat sheepish smile as Calum raised an eyebrow at her. The smirk was threatening to tilt his lips. “A motel—really?”

She let out a laugh, shrugging her shoulders as she told him, “It’s the best we got,” through warming cheeks. Bringing Calum to a motel by the waterfront kind of made her feel like a two bit whore, which may be a harsh comparison, but frankly, she didn’t entirely care. Maybe it was desperate, but it was also the only place they had. It was either this, or take a train back into the city and either walk or take the subway to Calum’s apartment. Staying in New Jersey was safer—the Skyview Motel was safer.

When Calum looked at her, saw the way Maeve rolled her innocently smiling lips into her mouth and raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, he let out a huff of laughter and a shake of his head. Not so innocently, Maeve pulled the jacket closed by its lapels with one hand as she took a step back, the coyness slipping into her voice as she mused, “Hey, if you’re not up for it—”

He wasn’t about to let her go that easily. Calum’s hand reached out, grasping Maeve’s, and her grin widened as he started walking towards the small reception area with purposeful strides. “Come on.”

It was a quick check-in with Maeve sticking to Calum’s side and soaking in his warmth as he showed his I.D. and flashed his credit card, not even blinking at the $70 price for one night. Maeve offered to split it, but Calum merely gave her a look and she rolled her eyes; if he could afford living in the city without any roommates, he could afford a motel room by the water. And while the makeshift lobby was small, it was clean and not at all rundown, and it only gave Maeve hope that the room would portray the same kind of care.

The man behind the desk took a set of keys off a hook on the wall behind him, each key connected to a small ball as he handed it to Calum and said, “You’ll be in room 304.”

As soon as they received the key, it was like all bets were off.

They stumbled into the room, the impatience and desperation bubbling over, no slowness from their first kiss present, as the leather jacket dropped from around Maeve’s shoulders and right to the floor, Calum kicking the door shut while his lips never left Maeve’s. Heavy breaths could be heard and pounding hearts were felt within their chests as they moved towards the bed, so in sync as Maeve’s fingers expertly undid the front of Calum’s button down.

She got rid of his button down, fingers grabbing at the tank top he wore and roughly pushing it up, pulling it out from where it was tucked into his pants. Their kiss was interrupted only briefly so Calum could pull the black tank over his head, and Maeve breathed heavily as her eyes drank in the sight of his naked upper half. Calum’s tattoos were in her view, greedily taking him in, feeling the pit of her stomach tighten excitedly as she hooked a finger on the cool chain of his necklace and tugged him towards her once more, lips meeting in yet another bruising kiss.

They moved towards the bed together but before Calum pushed her onto the mattress, his fingers moved to the hem of her shirt, tugging her crop top up until it was off. She watched as his eyes drank her in, just as she had done so to him, and Maeve bit down on her lower lip as she felt his gaze burn into her skin. The action seemed to stir something in Calum, a low growl escaping him as his hands grabbed at the back of her thighs and lifted her up, and Maeve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her as her ankles instinctively wrapped around Calum’s neck and lips met his once more. Fiery, impatient, needy.

Their next few movements were a blur. Clothes were torn off, thrown haphazardly around the room as they began losing themselves in one another. Maeve was pressed into the mattress, Calum’s body on top of hers, warm and lean and wonderful, as he kissed her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him close, loving the way his body fit between her legs.

He began moving lower, lips dragging away from hers as he kissed down her jaw and neck, lips burning her skin and scruff scratching her deliciously. Maeve closed her eyes, head tilted back and chest sinking as she released a heavy breath, her entire focus on the trail of electricity Calum’s lips were leaving in their wake as he kept moving. His lips wrapped around her right nipple, left hand paying attention to her other breast, her fingers still in his hair as he switched before he continued his downward path. He was getting closer and closer to where Maeve desperately needed him to be, the room filled with the sounds of her gentle gasps, transitioning into an appreciatie moan when Calum flattened his tongue against her core.

Calum wrapped his arms around her thighs, keeping her open for him as his fingers dug into her skin, working her entrance expertly with his lips and tongue. Maeve’s moans, every little sound that escaped her, only motivated Calum, reveling in the taste of her as his thumb circled her clit, sloppy and effective if the tightening of her grip on his hair was anything to go by. She sounded his name amongst a flurry of curses, pushing him into pushing her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Calum, Calum, Calum,” his name fell off her lips like a chant as she felt that familiar coil in the pit of her stomach, head tilted back and pressing into her pillow. Fuck, he found himself loving that sound, found himself wanting to hear her say his name in a breathless flurry of dizziness and pleasure over and over again.

Her release washed over her, and Calum sucked and licked her clean greedily as her body shuddered through the orgasm before lifting himself to hover over her once more. He licked his lips, grinning down at the breathless woman wickedly, and she tried to catch her breath as she looked up at him through hazy eyes. Curls a wild mess thanks to her hands, smirking lips begging to be kissed once more—which is exactly what she did as she pulled him down. “Do I get to return the favor?” she asked against his lips, nails scraping down his back that sent a shiver down Calum’s spine.

Fuck, Calum felt his cock twitch at the mere thought of her lips wrapped around him, but he had a feeling that if she did just that, he wouldn’t last long at all. “Next time,” he promised because, shit, there couldn’t not be a next time.

He grabbed the condom that was waiting on the bedside table, sitting back on his knees as he tore open the pack. His eyes met Maeve’s once he rolled it on, his own chest heaving as he looked down at her. Calum felt whatever air that was left in him rush out as he took in the sight of her; blonde hair like a halo and cheeks flushed and lips kissed, and Calum knew in that moment he’d never seen a sight more stunning. He committed it to his memory, heart thundering erratically in his chest because he couldn’t believe this was happening. She was so fucking gorgeous.

Calum hovered over her once more, holding himself up with his arms, suddenly his movements thoughtful and slow as opposed to the frenzied rush the two of them had been in before. His nose brushed against Maeve’s, the chain of his necklace dangling and his curls just barely brushing against her forehead, and his raspy voice asked, “Ready, sweetheart?”

Maeve answered him with a kiss, slow and savoring, and Calum swallowed her moan as he sank into her. He filled her, completely and deliciously, and Maeve’s nails dug into Calum’s shoulders as a way of telling him to move. Her heart was pounding, skin feeling as if it was on fire as Calum moved his hips at a dizzying pace until she grazed her teeth against his ear and begged, “Faster.”

He picked up his pace almost instantly, the sound of skin slapping against skin damn near echoing in the room, sinfully mixed with her moans and Calum’s grunts. The headboard could be heard hitting the wall with every movement, the bed creaking ever so slightly, but fuck it if either of them cared. Maeve’s nails scratched down his back, urging him on and on and on, both of them utterly lost in the way he slid in and out of her, groaning every time he buried himself in her.

Calum eventually moved his face to the crook of her neck, scruff scratching at her skin as Maeve tangled her fingers in the curls at the back of his head. She somehow managed to open her eyes, breathing labored as Calum brought her closer and closer to the edge once more. She stared up at the ceiling, biting down on her lower lip as she felt the cool chain of his necklace on her heated skin, his lips leaving sloppy yet welcomed kisses on her neck. This was such a bad idea. This was such a terrible idea.

But it felt too fucking good to stop, and Maeve knew Calum had ruined her. And she was okay with it.

Day 161

He was pulled out of his slumber by the mattress shifting beneath him, eyes remaining closed as he furrowed his eyebrows in a morning grump, burying his face into the pillow he rested upon. Calum could feel her shifting around to the right of him, a groan rumbling past his throat as he sleepily asked, “Wha’ time is it?”

“Nine,” came Maeve’s response, light and tired in her own right.

Calum moved to rest his cheek against the pillow, watching as she sat on the edge of the bed and was bending down, probably tying the laces of her Converse. The confused frown remained when he saw her already dressed, shoulder length hair tied into a haphazard bun with blonde strands sticking out. The motel room was already brightening due to the sun being up for a few hours now, the curtains on the windows not doing much to keep the light out since they hadn’t lowered the blinds the night before.

Cheek pressed on the pillow, Calum’s words came out sounding like a smushed drawl as he rasped, “I thought your shift wasn’t until eleven-thirty?”

Maeve straightened, looking down at Calum over her shoulder as she took in the sight in front of her she’d grown so used to during the past five months: dark curls messy from her fingers and sleep, brown eyes adorably sunken in and cheeks flushed—not to mention the several tattoos in view because he either slept in just his underwear or completely naked—the latter more often than not. And while the sight of a barely awake Calum practically glowing in whatever sunlight that seeped through the motel room window was one Maeve had grown familiar with, it still managed to catapult her heart into her throat and twist her stomach in knots only he was capable of loosening.

She shifted to sit sideways, one leg folded on the bed and body facing the headboard as she looked at Calum. “Yeah, but I’ve gotta head home and have breakfast before I get ready.”

Calum lifted his head, propping himself up with his right arm as a lazy smirk upturned his lips. The slyness shimmered in his dark eyes and coated his tone as he retorted, “We could have breakfast right now.”

 The cunning innuendo wasn’t lost on Maeve, Calum knew, by how she tried to stop the amused grin from spreading across her lips while shooting him a flat look. And though she tried to seem unimpressed, Calum could tell she didn’t think it was a half bad idea. Still, she leaned down, diminishing the gap between them until their noses just barely brushed together, and Calum’s eyes dropped to her lips as he yearned to taste the familiar strawberry chapstick he knew Maeve was wearing as she hummed teasingly, “You’re not slick.” And then she was sitting upright once more, much to his chagrin, and said, “I gotta go.”

The disappointment he felt wasn’t something Calum had learned to ignore, acknowledging its presence before trying to push it aside as he watched Maeve get up and grab her bag and anything else she needed. As they passed the five month mark of getting into this arrangement they had, Calum had yet to get used to watching her leave—the part that he hated most, because he completely went against the number one, albeit silent, rule.

He got fucking attached.

As Maeve walked to the door, Calum swallowed the tightness in his throat, an expert and pushing things aside, before calling out, “I’ll see you at Vick’s tonight.”

She stopped short, hand on the doorknob, and Calum’s eyes remained fixated on Maeve as she turned to look at him with a confused frown furrowing her perfectly done eyebrows. Even the puzzled pucker of her lips was adorable. “You’re going to Vick’s?”

He gave a nod, sitting up as the blanket pooled on his lap. He didn’t miss the way Maeve’s damn near translucent eyes took in his exposed chest, drinking him in the same primal way her lips had trailed across the expanse of his skin the night before. But instead of focusing on that, Calum’s attention was on the way she was looking at him—almost accusingly. “Yeah,” he responded, leaning back on one hand and pushing back the messy curls with the other. His tone remained even as he gave a single shrug. “She’s my friend, too; ’course I’m goin’ to her birthday.”

Calum could tell she was chewing on the inside of her cheek, a habit she had when she was thinking hard about something, her chest sinking as she let out a breath. “You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Maeve said, her tone light yet the resignment was ever present, and Calum didn’t like the fact that it was towards him. With a pointed raise of her eyebrows, she said, “You know Ash is gonna be there too, right?”

It was like she said it as a way of getting Calum to back out from going, and he would’ve laughed if it didn’t kind of irritate him. Calum wasn’t afraid of Ashton, far from it, and he didn’t give a shit if he was at the same party as him. He wanted to remind Maeve that it was her brother who had the temper issue, who instigated shit whenever the two of them happened to end up in the same place because while Calum minded his own business, Ashton didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

Sometimes Calum thought Maeve didn’t get that—didn’t understand that it was Ashton who needed to be put on a damn leash. Because while Calum didn’t particularly enjoying seeing his former friend either, he wasn’t the one who demanded a fucking confrontation every time. He could actually control himself unless provoked. So why the fuck should Calum not go to a friend’s party just because Ashton was going to be there, too? Nah, fuck that.

But Calum kept his expression cool, lips pursing briefly as his eyes locked with Maeve’s when he said evenly, “Then I guess I’ll see you both there.”

She sighed, a heavy exhale through her nose as she looked towards the wall momentarily like she was already trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever may happen at the party. And for her sake, despite the mild irritation Calum felt, he still couldn’t help but hope that things didn’t go to shit.

Maeve gave a single nod, shooting him a brief smile that didn’t entirely reach her eyes as she said, “Yeah, guess you will,” before opening the door and leaving Calum naked and alone and a bit disappointed.

Not that it would be the first time.

“Alright, let me hear it—what’d Maeve do this time?”

Calum shot Michael an exasperated look, watching as his friend put away his AirPods and leaned back against the pillar. The two of them were at the train station, waiting for their Uber to take them to Vick’s car after just getting in from the city. Calum couldn’t seem to stand still, which of course told Michael that something was up because constantly shifting around was his thing.

“She didn’t do—” Calum cut himself off at the pointed look Michael was giving him, the look that told the brunette to not even try and bullshit his way out. Calum didn’t know why he even bothered to attempt to do so—he ended up telling Michael everything anyway. “I think she’s just bothered by me coming to Vick’s tonight. Because Ashton’s gonna be there.”

Michael’s face scrunched up, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’s heard, and Calum was glad to see his best friend seemed to share his thoughts. “That’s dumb. Vick’s your friend and it’s not like you’re the one that tries looking for a fight. If Ash has an issue, that’s his problem. Not yours.”

“I know,” Calum huffed, scuffing the tip of his shoe as his eyes caught sight of a car pulling up in front of them. Double checking the license plate, Calum nodded, “That’s it.” He and Michael got in the back, greeting the driver, and once Calum settled he continued, “I get that she hates whenever Ashton and I get into it, and trust me—” he let out a huff of a dry laugh, “—I’ve got no problem keeping my distance from him, but why should I be the one to sit somethin’ out just because he can’t keep it together?”

“You shouldn’t,” Michael agreed, lifting off his hat and using his fingers to fix his blonde hair before he settled it back down as they drove down the streets, lamp posts they passed illuminating the car every few seconds. He sighed as he shifted, back against the door to look at Calum. “Listen, man, you knew this was gonna be kind of complicated when you got with her the first time. And then you started having feelings for her so now you’re just gonna be bothered whenever she seems like she’s only in it for the sex.” Michael gave a shake of his head, raising a dubious eyebrow. “You sure you thought this through?”

Calum pursed his lips, leaning his head back on the rest as his jaw tightened. Michael wasn’t wrong; Calum did have the tendency to grow aggravated whenever Maeve brushed off what they had as sex and nothing more. He wasn’t someone to force someone to have feelings, but there were so many times when it seemed as though she felt exactly how he did—he could see it in the way her light eyes glittered and how if she smiled big enough around him, it showed off the barest hints of dimples.

Sometimes he caught her looking at him when she didn’t think he knew; whether it was in the confines of their favorite motel room or if they decided to venture out in New York or, if they felt brave enough, in Hoboken. It’s not like they only hung out when either of them couldn’t stop thinking of the other’s lips or hands or bodies—they’d reclaimed their friendship that had been lost, got back to how they were and more, and Calum loved it. He loved spending time with her. He loved—

His teeth grinded together. Sometimes she tried so hard to make it seem as though she felt nowhere near as he did but—fuck, what if it really was all in his head? Hooking up with his former friend’s half-sister on a repeated occasion was a bad enough idea—actually falling for her was another level of stupid.

As soon as they walked into Vick and her fiancé’s house, Calum headed straight for the credenza where all the bottles were. He probably should’ve found the birthday girl to wish her first, but after making himself a gin and tonic once he saw all the ingredients out there for him, he easily found Vick and wished her before distracting himself by mingling with the people he knew.

The house was nearly full, people spilling out into the backyard as the music played through the speakers. Calum sipped at his drink, the alcohol running down smoothly as he stood near one corner of the living room talking to a few friends he’d went to high school with. And while he was having a good enough time, Calum couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes wander, looking around the familiar and few unfamiliar faces in hopes of catching sight of Maeve. He didn’t even know if she was here yet, and still Calum’s eyes kept searching.

It was pathetic.

His grip on the plastic cup tightened, though Calum was mindful of not completely crushing it as he began sipping it. As he listened to J.D. talk about recent Yankees game he’d gone to while a Post Malone song played throughout the house, Calum looked over the rim of his cup to see the woman he’d been searching for finally enter through the front door.

Everything seemed to melt away as Maeve came into view, a smile on her face as she walked in with Lina and Ashton, but Calum’s focus was only on her. He watched her smile widen as she was greeted by someone she knew, hugging the other girl before pulling away and brushing back locks of soft blonde hair Calum could practically feel his fingers running through. She wore a pair of black shorts and a tight yellow tank tucked in and all Calum wanted to do was feel her in his arms, run his hands across her body like he’d done so a hundred times before.

But, man, her smile. Bright and happy and reflective in her light eyes, a sight that rendered him breathless enough to nearly choke on the sip of his drink. How he let a single woman have such a profound amount of control over him without even trying, Calum had no idea. In five short months she managed to take over his head, his fucking heart, and Calum often wondered if he was just pathetic or stupid. Maybe both.

Because Calum had always been careful with who he fell for. When it came to Maeve, though. . . He had no control.

As if she could feel the weight of his gaze, Maeve glanced over to where Calum stood, his blue eyes finding his brown, and he watched as she shot him a quick friendly smile before following Ashton and Lina further into the house. And that was it. That’s all he got.

For most of the party, that’s all he fucking got.

Maeve stuck with Lina most of the night, but somehow she was always nearby Ashton, whether it be playing beer pong in the backyard or doing shots with them and Luke. Calum didn’t want to start anything—he knew if he so much as approached Maeve, Ashton would have something to say about it. And Calum wished he didn’t care so much, wished that it didn’t bother him that Maeve was pretending as if he didn’t exist and instead was enjoying the party with her best friend and half-brother. Not even a hi was thrown his way, nor a look spared and Calum only knew that because his eyes didn’t seem to be able to leave her.

“Fuck this,” Calum muttered to himself after downing three vodka shots a couple of friends dragged him over to partake in. He was only just starting to feel the alcohol running through his veins, head just barely beginning to feel light as he made himself a cranberry vodka. The drinks weren’t doing much to ease his discontent, maybe only serving to disgruntle him more. It probably wasn’t healthy for him to feel this way, to be so hung up on a woman not paying him the time of day, but he couldn’t entirely help it.

So when he was in the hall that led towards the backyard and the bathroom door opened to have Maeve step out, Calum couldn’t help but announce, “We need to talk.”

Maeve stopped, looking to the left before catching sight of him to her right, leaned back against the wall and nursing his nearly empty drink. People passed by every now and then, moving to different parts of the house, and this was the closest Calum and Maeve had been the entire night. She looked at him, eyebrows furrowing together in surprised confusion before letting out a breath, glancing down the hall before asking through a breathless and disbelieving laugh, “About what?”

Calum scoffed, tilting his head slightly. “Seriously?” Did she truly not see the way she was acting around him? Or was he just being overdramatic? “Can’t even spare a second to say hi?”

Yeah, he knew what he sounded like, knew he sounded dramatic and pathetic and was giving away too much of himself than he ever would. But the alcohol was warm and made it easy for Calum to run his mouth, whether he liked it or not, and when it came to Maeve, he had a bit of a hard time keeping things to himself.

A flash of guilt passed across her face at his words, lips parting as she started, “Calum—”

“The hell is going on here?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Calum exhaled sharply through his nose in hopes of calming himself down, but the snappish tone Ashton announced himself in grated at the brunette, not even bothering to grace Ashton with an acknowledging look as he made his way towards them. Instead, Calum kept his gaze on Maeve, who’d pressed her lips together before looking at her brother and easing, “Nothing, Ash. We were just saying hi.”

Calum couldn’t help the derisive snort that escaped him at her words. That was exactly what they were getting into—Maeve not saying hi to him. Her bluish-green eyes snapped over to him at the sound and he could see the warning in them, the pleading to not make this escalate. He ground his teeth together; Calum never initiated anything, and despite the urge to tell Ashton to fuck right off, he kept quiet. For Maeve. Always for her.

“Great,” Ashton said flatly through gritted teeth. Calum could feel his gaze burning a hole on the side of his face, but he didn’t give the hazel eyed man the satisfaction of looking at him. Instead, Calum pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, looking down at his drink as he swirled it in the cup some more. “Come on, Maeve, let’s play another round of pong.”

Before Maeve could reply, Calum scoffed, head tilted back against the wall, feeling the bass of the music thud against him as Ashton’s words caused him to go against what he’d silently promised Maeve when he lazily drawled, “Relax, buddy, ’m not someone you have to rescue your sister from.”

He could feel Ashton take a few steps towards him without even having to look. “No one was fucking talking to you. And I’m not your buddy.”

This time Calum looked at him, took in the icy glare glowering Ashton’s features and the tightness of his jaw. He’d always been temperamental, always had trouble controlling his temper and back when they were friends, Calum had thought Ashton used to do a good job in maintaining it. Until he didn’t. With obvious raised eyebrows, Calum mockingly narrowed his eyes as he reminded almost bitterly, “Yeah, you made quite sure of that, didn’t you?”

Ashton probably took that as a challenge, hands fisting at his side and the irritation across his face only intensifying as he took the last few threatening steps towards him all the while growling, “Listen, you’re the o—”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Maeve demanded as she swiftly slipped her body between the two men. Ashton stopped advancing just as Calum pushed himself off the wall, both men halting to look down at the shorter woman. She had one hand on Ashton’s chest and the other was held behind her as a readying way of keeping Calum back, looking back and forth at them. Her hair moved as her head did, a thin strand of blonde hair getting caught in her pink lip gloss and all Calum wanted to do was tell Ashton to fuck off and move the piece of hair. But he didn’t.

Letting out a breath, Maeve gave a shake of her head before saying to Ashton in a somewhat soothing voice, “Calm down, alright? You’re getting worked up over nothing. Don’t ruin the night by getting into some dumb fight—let’s go play pong.”

They had to pass by Calum to go out to the backyard, and Maeve made it a point to push along Ashton first. Calum’s eyes met his hazel ones as he went, hard and still lacking the warmth of friendship as they had been for the past year. And still, the awareness of losing a man who had once been such a good friend hit Calum heard, painfully so, as he tightened his jaw to keep it locked inside. Fuck, how things had changed.

And then went Maeve, following after her half brother, gaze lifting to meet Calum’s as she walked by. He saw the tiredness in her light eyes, looking completely over the situation between him and Ashton, and Calum had half a mind to open his mouth and spew out some half assed apology.

But then Maeve shook her head once more, released a dismayed scoff and kept walking, not even uttering a word to him as she stepped outside with Ashton. Calum stared after her, eyebrows drawing together ever so slightly, lips parting as his own disappointment washed over him because it was Ashton who’d once again tried to start something, and it was Ashton who Maeve was seemingly siding with. Not for the first time, Calum had to watch her walk away, twisting his heart and knotting his stomach tensely.

Calum downed the rest of his drink, reveling in the burn of the alcohol as his chest sank.

Brother or not, it fucking hurt.

Day 164

He caught her just as she walked out of the cafe, approaching her as she rummaged through her bag for her car keys. Calum hadn’t really planned on confronting Maeve; he’d only just left Shake Shack across the street after having lunch with Michael when he saw her leaving the cafe, and before he knew it, Calum was crossing over to get to her before she got in the car.

“Maeve,” he called just as she got her keys out, prompting her to look up and squint against the sunlight, one hand going to her forehead to shield her eyes. Calum got to her quickly once a car passed, watching as she looked at him in surprise, not expecting his arrival, as he said, “We gotta talk about the other night.”

She dropped her hand from her forehead, the sun making her eyes appear translucent and beautiful—as always—as she let out a breath. Fisting her keys in one hand, Maeve ran the other through her wavy hair, pushing it back as her gaze dropped to the ground when she shook her head and said, “Look, Cal, I’m sorry about Ashton. He’s—”

“’M not here to talk about Ashton—I couldn’t give a fuck ’bout him.” Maeve looked up at him, at the slight edge that had creeped into Calum’s smooth voice. He hated speaking to Maeve this way, hated that it even came to this. But for someone who had always been good at internalizing, at never bothering others with his issues, Calum couldn’t seem to keep this to himself. Maeve brought out a different side of him, for better or worse, and it made Calum want to deal with his problems—especially if they concerned her. What he felt for her embraced him with an overwhelming force, a tight grip that refused to let up. He’d fallen for her so fast, so hard, so blindly, and every time Maeve did something that seemed like an insult to his feelings, Calum felt hurt. And he was growing tired of it. “’M here to talk ’bout you and how you acted like it was my fault your brother got in my face.”

“I—” Maeve stopped, gaping up at Calum despite the sun burning down into her eyes. He suppressed a huff, shifting ever so slightly to the side so his shadow washed over her figure, effectively shielding her from the light. Her eyes relaxed a bit, but the incredulity over Calum’s accusation remained. In a reminding tone, Maeve continued, “You were provoking him, Calum. You know you were.”

Calum’s lips parted to let out a scoff, having to look away in disbelief before saying to the blonde, “I said two things to him—”

“And they were enough to set him off!” Maeve pointed out, her exasperation already bubbling over. With a tired huff of a laugh, she added, “You know how easily pissed off he gets, Calum. It would’ve been better if you just ignored him. Or, you know,” she paused, looking away and licking her lips before her eyes met Calum’s once more, “maybe not approach me when you know he’s around.”

His jaw tightened, the heat of the sun only adding onto his frustration. Right arm propped against the top of her car, Calum said to her, “You ignored me all night, Maeve. I’m not gonna apologize for bein’ bothered by it. That’s not the first time you’ve made me feel like an idiot.”

She shot him a frustrated, helpless look of her own, but Calum didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across her eyes at his words. “I didn’t—I would never want you to feel that way, Calum, come on.” She frowned, shaking her head once. “ But you know that’s how it has to be, Cal, if Ash is around. For his sake, I can’t be seen being all friendly with the guy he hates.”

Her words sent a sharp pain through Calum’s chest, hitting him harder than he would’ve liked. Of course he knew Ashton hated him, his own feelings for his former friend weren’t too far off, but when he actually heard it, it felt a bit more crushing each time. And for Maeve to say it so carelessly, whether she meant to or not, twisted Calum’s heart fiercely. Except Calum wasn’t sure what hurt more; the surface meaning behind her words, or the underlying one that had more to do with Maeve and Calum than Ashton and Calum.

He scoffed, almost defeated as he raised his eyebrows at her. “So brother over me, huh? Again?”

It wasn’t a fair shot, he knew, and Calum was probably setting himself up for heartbreak by asking that because Ashton was, after all, her brother. She sided with him the first time when she stopped speaking to Calum—maybe sleeping with him wasn’t really going to change much.

Maeve’s expression fell, and Calum wondered if his words hurt her. He didn’t want them to, would never want her to hurt, especially because of him. But things were going to shit and maybe this was unrequited, after all. Maybe he really was an idiot. “Stop looking for a double meaning in everything I say, Calum,” Maeve said, her voice firm yet not holding any true anger. She sounded more resigned, tired—over it, once again. Over him? The thought was almost nauseating. “It’s not that simple. This situation is complicated and I just—I don’t know what you want from me.”

Calum’s chest felt tight, heart squeezed up into his throat as he looked down at her. The sun had brought our her freckles, peppering over the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. She always made sure to let them show whenever she did her makeup, once upon a time telling Calum they were her favorite feature of herself when he one day, in the midst of the motel room sheets, told her he was going to count them all. There were so many things during so many occasions he felt for her, with her; frustration, happiness, companionship, disappointment, contentment, love. And every time he thought she may feel the same way, doubt and reality had him second guessing himself.

Calum’s arm dropped from her car, the disappointment and hurt tasting bitter in his mouth as he watched Maeve’s expression fall when she noted the defeat on his face. Calum smiled, wry and humorless. “I don’t know, either.”

Day 168

It was funny how the second Maeve stepped into the motel room, she felt as though she could finally breathe. She shut the door behind her, hands trapped between it and her lower back as she took in the familiar interior of room 304. The light purple bed covers were perfectly made, somehow matching nicely with the greyish blue walls, and the curtains were parted and the blinds were up to let the late afternoon sun stream in, the view of the city across the water a sight worth seeing.

The sunlight provided the room with a soft glow and Maeve didn’t want to turn on the lights to take away from the beauty of it. This room, complete with a TV, bathroom, and mini kitchen area had become more than just a place for her to meet up with Calum for sex—it had become an escape. A safe space, almost. The two of them sometimes found themselves meeting up at the Skyview not to do anything but just hang out, because it was the one place where they definitely would remain hidden from Ashton or anyone else. And right now, Maeve needed this place.

September had just started, which meant Maeve was back at school attending classes for her graduate degree. There was already so much reading involved, so much to do, not to mention she had work on top of it all and she found herself stressing out too much too early into the semester. Honestly, it had all only just begun—how was she supposed to last the school year? On top of it all, she had to deal with aggravating, rude customers at work and Maeve just felt drained.

She’d made it a point to finish whatever pressing assignments she had, and as soon as she did, Maeve found herself leaving campus and driving right to the Skyview Motel, spending money unnecessarily on the motel room she didn’t really need. But finding comfort and relaxation in another place wasn’t likely, she knew, so it was a small price to pay to lay down in the middle of the bed with a sigh of relief escaping her. She hadn’t been to the room in a few days, and the basic yet familiar vanilla scent that clung to the room was comforting as she closed her eyes and breathed it in.

Maeve wasn’t entirely sure how long she laid like that, but eventually she had to open her eyes when a Snapchat notification rung out. Letting out a breath, Maeve picked up her phone, using the popsocket to hold it over her face as she blinked at the notice. It was from Calum—who she hadn’t spoken to for about four days now. And yet, she felt her heart jump at the sight of his name. She knew he was mad at her, knew that he wasn’t happy with her over how she’d treated him at Vick’s party, and Maeve did feel guilty about it. And confused. And frustrated. God, it was messy.

He’d sent her a typed message, and she opened to see it read, You brought a new dude over to Skyview? I’m hurt.

A wry smile tugged at her lips, practically hearing the sarcastic, joking tone in which she heard him speak in. For a moment, Maeve wondered how he knew where she was, before remembering her location on the app was available for him, and a select few others—Ashton not included. Quickly, she typed back, Of course not. It’s just me in my lonesome.

She dropped her phone on the mattress, getting up with a gentle groan to shimmy off her jeans and pull out a pair of comfortable shorts she’d been smart enough to put into her backpack. Her stomach grumbled and Maeve pursed her lips, cursing herself for not picking up some food on the way. Her phone rung out again, and Maeve opened Calum’s message that read, Want some company?

She blinked, slightly surprised. Maeve didn’t think he’d want to hang out with her after what happened, given that they hadn’t spoken to each other since the day outside of the cafe. He was in the city, she was pretty sure; he really wanted to come down to see her?

For a second, Maeve wondered if he only wanted to have sex, and then she wondered why she was worried about that. Wasn’t that the arrangement, what they agreed upon when they started this? She had no reason to feel. . . Bothered. But she was, and she knew why, and still pushed that aside because it was a bad fucking idea.

Chewing on her lower lip, she typed back, Only if you bring some food.

Around thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the door, prompting Maeve to pause the episode of Peaky Blinders she was watching on her laptop since the motel room TV didn’t have a Netflix connection. She opened the door, feeling a smile tug at her lips at the sight of Calum standing with sunglasses covering his eyes in his favorite Sensation shirt tucked into his jeans, a to-go McDonalds bag in one hand and a cardboard tray of soda in the other.

“I come bearing gifts,” Calum greeted, smiling as Maeve stepped to the side to let him enter.

She let out a laugh, shutting the door as she teased, “My hero.”

He put down the food on the circular table in the small kitchen area, pulling out the Big Mac box for her and Filet-O-Fish for himself before taking out the fries. In a mutual silence, they moved over to the bed, bringing the napkins and food with them as they sat cross legged, side by side, and Maeve played the show as the two of them began digging into their food.

They did so in silence, the only sound uttering from the show, and Maeve wanted to believe all of it was a comforting one, that she couldn’t feel some of the tension that still existed between the two of them. But it was there, hanging over them like a dark cloud and weighing them down, and Maeve knew that it was her fault.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t know, either.”

Their words rang through her mind like a bitter reminder, making it hard to swallow the bite as she remembered the empty look she’d seen in Calum’s normally dark eyes—eyes she’d grown used to seeing so expressive. At least around her they were. But she’d shut him down, pushed him away—blamed him for something that wasn’t entirely, if at all, his fault and Maeve hated that she did that. She understood, in that moment, the stress she’d been feeling for school and work was also because of the silence she’d received from Calum, and it was no one’s fault but her own.

But, God, it got confusing. Sometimes she truly didn’t know what to do. Ashton was family and she’d stuck by him her entire life but that didn’t give her the excuse to be on his side when he was the one making things difficult. Maeve knew Calum only opened his mouth that day at the party because he was upset with her, because more often than not he never really provoked Ashton. He was an internalizer, he kept things to himself, and it had frustrated Maeve at first, when the two of them first got together. They’d had conversations about it until Calum learned to open up.

And now that he was, she was punishing him for it? She was getting upset that he was rightfully mad at her? She deserved it. After the way she blatantly and purposefully ignored him under the guise of keeping it all a secret from Ashton, Maeve deserved the silent treatment.

Still, Calum showed up, all the way from the city, with food nonetheless. It made her fall for him harder, faster, no matter the voice in the back of her head constantly reminding her how terrible of an idea that was. She didn’t even want to think of what Calum may possibly feel for her, if he did, since she couldn’t make sense of the mess going on in her own head and heart.

They finished their burgers in the continued silence, watching the show, her right knee pressed against his left as they remained cross legged, the denim of his jeans warm against her exposed knee. Calum shifted then, sitting back against the headboard as he let out a soft breath, eyes still on the laptop screen as Maeve debated with herself silently.

She glanced at him, dark curls handsomely messy and left arm raised to rest folded between his head and the headboard, tattoos in full glorious view against golden skin. He saw her admiring him, brown eyes meeting her blue, and before Calum could get a word in, Maeve blurted out, “I’m sorry.” He blinked, understandably surprised at her unexpected burst. Maeve worried her lower lip with her teeth, hunched over ever so slightly as she picked at her nails. Her back was still to him, only half facing him, as the show still played in the background. “I wasn’t being fair to you and—it’s just so complicated,” she said the last bit with a sigh, turning to face him a bit more as Calum listened to her, lips pressed together. “And I know I keep saying that and I know it doesn’t excuse it but I can’t give Ashton any reason to think that there’s more to you and I than he thinks—which is nothing—but still. Have to keep it that way.”

Calum’s throat worked, Adam’s apple bobbing as he brought his arm down only to cross both of them across his chest. The silver chain bracelet he wore rattled subtly at the movement, though they paid it no mind as Calum’s brown eyes kept locked with her lighter ones. “So, what, if we end up at the same place, we gotta pretend we don’t even know each other? That’s bullshit, Maeve. The issue is between me and Ashton, not me and you. How does that make sense?”

“How does any of this make sense, Calum?” Maeve retorted, a breathless and exasperated laugh escaping her as she fully turned, sitting on her knees to face him, the show long forgotten. “One day you two are friends and the next shit hits the fan and I have to be the loyal sister and stop being friends with you. It wasn’t fair and I hated that, and I’m sorry that I blindly followed whatever Ashton did. I am. But you have to know, at the end of the day, I don’t feel the same way he does.” The fight seemed to leave her, suddenly feeling nothing but helpless as she hoped Calum would see her honesty, would know that despite all the bullshit, despite her own stupid behavior, she still wants him in her life. In what capacity, even she wasn’t entirely sure yet.

Maeve rolled her lips into her mouth, licking them before she scooted closer to the brunette, watching Calum watch her as her hand reached out to grab one of his. He let her hold on, undoing his arms from where they were crossed, and Maeve reveled in the feel of his fingers interlocking with hers. It was those kinds of moments, where an innocent touch warmed her just as a greedy one would, when Maeve acknowledged that, yeah, it was more than sex between the two of them. She knew it. He knew it. And the only reason he stopped himself from truly saying anything was because he knew she was conflicted. Maeve wasn’t sure how long Calum would be willing to stick around for her indecisiveness, and she swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed that nauseating thought away as she squeezed his hand and offered him a sincere smile.

 “I don’t feel the same way Ashton does,” Maeve repeated, because she felt like she needed to, raising her eyebrows at Calum in hopes of understanding. “This is good, yeah? We’re good?”

Calum looked at her for a few seconds, eyes searching hers, and Maeve felt her heart pounding in anticipation until he smiled. Soft and gentle and warm, erupting the butterflies in her stomach as if she was a teenage girl with a crush. And still Calum was the only one to entice such a sensation in her. “Yeah,” he rasped, giving a nod. “We’re good.”

Flashback

“What the fuck did you say to me?”

Calum scoffed at Ashton, at the uncalled for rage simmering in his best friend’s voice as he glared him down. He could feel everyone around them staring, anticipating a fight even he could feel coming, waiting to see who would be the one to throw the first punch. Calum wished it wouldn’t escalate that far, but Ashton had been yelling at him for almost ten minutes, growing angrier by the minute and Calum himself wasn’t too far off from being pissed off. At the situation, at him, at all of it.

And he was over it. Enough was enough.

“I said you’re a shitty friend, Ash,” Calum repeated, strong and unapologetic, watching as his words caused Ashton to narrow his eyes threateningly. With a shrug, Calum added, “You have been for a couple of months now. I just didn’t say shit because you kept apologizing and I was enough of an idiot to believe you meant it. But you keep pullin’ the same shit over and over again so, yeah—you’re a shitty fuckin’ friend and it’s about time you got your head out of your ass to hear me say it.”

Yeah, he was pretty damn sick of it. Sick of Ashton ditching him, canceling on him, making plans with other people when he already had plans with him. He was sick of him trying to play the victim, to play innocent and apologizing and promising that he would try to be a better friend, only to go around and do it all over again. And it wasn’t like Calum hadn’t been patient, like he hadn’t given Ashton the benefit of the doubt because he was one of his closest friends. He didn’t care if Ashton went out to hang with his other friends—so long as he wasn’t kicking Calum to corner to do so. He deserved more respect than that—as a friend and as a human being.

And when Calum went off to hang out with other people? Of course that was a problem. Of course it would prompt Ashton to start talking shit about him behind his back, because that was the mature and appropriate reaction. Calum didn’t understand how things went badly for them so fast, how Ashton changed so quickly and started taking their friendship for granted, always being Calum would be there when he was bored. It wasn’t a friendship Calum had wanted to be a part of anymore—especially when he realized that it was only him that Ashton was doing this to. He was perfectly fine with everyone else. It was just their friendship that was rapidly sinking.

So Calum was done. He was over it. No matter how much it fucking hurt to lose his friend.

Though, the punch that Ashton delivered to his jaw was a close second.

Exclamations of surprise and protest sounded from around them, but Calum paid them no mind as he stumbled back from the unexpected hit, a sting of pain shooting up from his left jaw. He could feel someone’s arms catch him, keeping him upright, vaguely thinking it was Michael as he pressed a ginger hand to his jaw before his incredulous and deadly glare was directed at Ashton.

The dirty blonde stood where he had been, fist clenched and jaw set, completely ready for this to escalate. “Get off your fucking high horse—you’re not perfect, either.”

Calum pushed away from those behind him, hand dropping from his face as he slowly stalked towards Ashton. He could see and feel everyone watching him—Michael, Luke, Maeve, Lina—but Calum’s focus was on Ashton. The tension in the backyard of his house was palpable, Calum was sure everyone could feel it, and it weighed heavily upon them. “Never said I was,” Calum returned, the edge in his voice ever present, low and threatening as he shot Ashton a mocking smirk. “The only disillusioned one here is you.”

Ashton launched again, this time with a low growl that sounded vaguely like “motherfucker” to Calum’s ears, though he couldn’t be too sure given that he was dodging the next fist that flew his way, instead delivering an uppercut of his own. His knuckles connected with the bottom of Ashton’s chin, a heavy grunt escaping him as he stumbled back because of the hit, eyes squeezing shut automatically.

When Ashton recovered, he made a move to go after Calum again, but suddenly Luke was pulling him back and Calum was being yanked back by another pair of arms, glancing wildly over his shoulder to see Michael gripping him tightly, a hard look in his eyes. “Calm the fuck down,” he hissed in his ears, his hands on his shoulders firm and weighed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Luke demanded, taller figure coming to step between the two fighting men, left hand against Ashton’s chest to keep him back. He glanced back and forth between them, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together in bewilderment. Things had escalated faster than anyone had anticipated.

“He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth fucking shut, man,” Ashton exclaimed, the anger ever present in his tone as he spoke to Luke, though his gaze was on Calum.

The brunette almost wanted to laugh at the irony of him saying that if it wasn’t for the pain in his jaw and hand. “And you don’t know how to be a decent fucking friend—you’re the one that started this shit, Ashton,” Calum retorted, speaking through the stinging pain of a bruised jaw, shaking Michael’s grip off of him once he showed him he wasn’t about to launch at Ashton again.

Ashton, in turn, slapped Luke’s hand away as he took a step forward, and Luke didn’t move as he watched him. “Yeah, and I’m gonna be the one to fucking end it, too. I’m done with you and your bullshit—get the fuck out of my house.”

Calum exhaled sharply through his nose, reality beginning to sink in as Ashton’s half-sister, Maeve, spoke up with an alarmed, “Ashton—”

He didn’t even look her way as he snapped, “Stay out of it, Maeve.” Tightening his jaw, Ashton took a few more steps towards Calum, everyone watching with bated breath and alarmed eyes as Ashton stopped in front of him. Calum saw the rage up close, the anger he knew his friend sometimes had trouble controlling, had never lost towards him until now. Ashton lowered his tone, dark and dangerous, as he repeated, “Get the fuck out.”

Calum wasn’t sure how his friendship with Ashton ended in less than ten minutes, but maybe that was it—maybe it hadn’t been ten minutes. Maybe it was months and months of them growing distant, of issues that just never got resolved that led to this. And it hurt Calum, more than his bruised jaw and knuckles, because he could tell this was it. There was no going back from this. His friendship with Ashton, in a few harsh words and rough punches, was over.

And it felt empty.  

Day 220

Something had gone wrong and it was eating away at Maeve. She thought they were good, that they were okay, but time and time again she was being proven wrong and as they neared the two month mark, she knew something had to be said or done. She’d let it go for a while, believed that he was busy with work because she knew she was busy with her own job as well as classes. Plus, it wasn’t ever like they saw each other every day, not with him living in the city and all. Maybe that was why Maeve, at first, didn’t think anything was wrong. She saw him if they were free, mostly at the motel and sometimes with her going into New York, and for the most part things were normal. They had been normal.

And it only had Maeve wondering when Calum had gotten good at keeping things from her.

She just didn’t understand where it went south; didn’t understand why suddenly his texts seemed clipped and he no longer wanted to meet up at their place—not just for sex but to hang out. Maeve had to hand it to Calum—he’d been smart about it. He’d come by every so often, but would make sure to sprinkle in some days where he had to reject her offer with some well thought out excuse, making it seem as though something really had come up and he genuinely wasn’t able to make it rather than not wanting to go in the first place.

For a while, Maeve told herself she was just making shit up, looking for something that wasn’t there. But something in her head—hell, even her chest and her damn gut—was telling her that things were off. That something was going on. And it didn’t help that she missed him—so much. She missed Calum’s presence once he really did start pulling away as of recently; she missed being able to talk to him, not just hold him or kiss him or feel him. They often spent hours talking, whether it was just something they wanted to do or when they were under the sheets, spent and satiated but still wanting each other’s company.

God, Maeve didn’t realize how much she craved being with him until she wasn’t.

She sat in her car in the parking deck of her campus, chewing on her lower lip as she looked down at her phone. A debate had been tossing around in her head, questioning whether or not she should send Calum a text, asking him to meet up. There was a genuine hesitation out of fear of him rejecting the offer, given that he’d been doing that for a while now, but this wasn’t a conversation Maeve wanted to have over the phone. And she wasn’t about to show up to his apartment in the city like some stalker. They needed to meet at their place. Their safe haven.

Taking a breath, Maeve unlocked her phone, quickly typing out, Hey, can we meet up, please? I need to talk to you about something—it’s important before hitting send and dropping her phone on the passenger seat with a squeal. She felt ridiculous, but she really thought the nerves would eat at her and prevent her from hitting send.

Maeve’s heart thudded as she waited for a response, fingers drumming on the bottom of the steering wheel as the music playing through her car did nothing to calm her down. The vehicle was still warming up, the early November cold already bitter, but Maeve knew her jittering had more to do with the anticipation of Calum’s response than the weather.

Her heart sank when five minutes passed without a response, throat drying as she tilted her head back and lips turned downwards in a defeated grimace. Though, before she could throw herself a pity party, Maeve’s phone let out a beep, and she scrambled to desperately grab it and let out a gasp of relief when she read Calum’s message of, Yeah, I’ll be there in forty.

Oh, he agreed. He was coming.

She knew she’d get there first, given than her campus was half an hour’s drive from the motel, and the entire time Maeve was acutely aware of her thundering heart. Worry twist and turned her stomach as she drove, swallowing her dry throat because she really didn’t know what she was walking into. Something was up with Calum and Maeve wanted to know, especially if she’d done something wrong, but she wasn’t entirely sure if she was ready to hear whatever it was. But she had to face the music. She missed Calum, and if she fucked up—again—she needed to fix it.  

Arriving at the motel, Maeve checked her phone to see if Calum had texted her while she was driving. She’d only just received a text, telling her he’d be there in ten minutes, and Maeve texted him back saying that she’d arrived and get the room.

It was a quick transaction at the reception, paying for the room for only two hours, making the price cheaper. But when she got to the door, room 304 for their taking, and inserted the key, Maeve blinked in surprise when she heard footsteps coming up the staircase a door away from her and Calum turned the corner. The door unlocked and Maeve opened it, shooting Calum an almost nervous smile as he returned it with a close mouthed one of his own while she greeted with a small, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Calum returned, coming to a stop next to her as his eyes flickered to the red door. “If you’d waited five minutes, I could’ve paid—”

“It’s fine,” Maeve quickly reassured, widening her smile a bit as she opened the door. She gestured towards the room, silently inviting him in as she entered the room, hearing Calum enter after her before shutting the door behind them. She played with her fingers, twisting at her rings, working up the courage to say what she wanted. His presence loomed behind her, waiting, and Maeve just needed to gather the words and—

“What’d you wanna talk about?”

Her train of thought screeched to a stop at his words, cutting right to the chase as Maeve licked her lips and turned to face him. He stood with his arms crossed and Maeve couldn’t help but note the defensive stance, as if he was protecting himself from something—her. It only reinvited the unease that loomed in the pit of her stomach, reminding Maeve of the reason why they were here in the first place. He’d been all but keeping his distance from her, slowly but surely, and Maeve needed to find out why.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she started, hoping her tone didn’t hint at the nerves she was trying to fight off. “Why? What’s the issue?”

Calum blinked, something flashing across his dark eyes, before he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to play off an innocent frown. “No, I haven’t.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped her. “Don’t bullshit me, Cal,” Maeve said with a shake of her head, crossing her own arms. She didn’t want to play anymore games. “Seriously, I thought—I thought things were good between us. So what changed?”

“Nothing changed, Maeve—that’s the issue.” She gaped at Calum, not entirely expecting the burst from him as he threw his arms down. Maeve took in the defeat that took over his face, the helplessness he spoke in. Calum was angry and tired of whatever was bothering him, and Maeve only looked at him in bewilderment as he let out a dry, humorless chuckle with pulling his lower lip into his mouth. His eyes took in the room they stood in before shrugging. “We’ve been doing this, for what, six months? And shit hasn’t changed at all. It’s just getting worse.”

Maeve’s heart dropped at his words, confusion and worry making for an uneasy combination as she looked at him with wide, distressed eyes. Six months—had they really been doing this for half a year? Sneaking around, meeting up in this room, losing themselves in each other? It had flown by, and Maeve was kind of surprised no one they didn’t want to know hadn’t found out about them. They’d been doing the same thing for six months but hadn’t that been the plan?

“I—what?” Maeve asked, shaking her head in hopes of understanding what he was saying. “What’s getting worse?”

Calum shook his head, pressing his lips together at her inquiry. But he looked at her, dark eyes boring into her bluish-green ones, taking in the questioning look she was shooting him, begging to know what he was on about. Maeve waited, silent with a quickening heart rate, hoping he would answer, tell her the truth. She was sick of the silent treatment he had been giving her; she just wanted things to be normal.

And then finally, Calum responded, tired and defeated yet completely behind his words. “The fact that I’m in love with you and you keep reminding me how bad of an idea that is.”

Maeve wasn’t sure what struck her more—the fact that Calum felt that way about her, or the fact that she already knew and he’d finally said it. God, Maeve would have to be blind to not know how Calum felt about her and, okay, maybe she wasn’t aware he was in love with her—but she knew he felt more for her than someone would a fuck buddy. Still, her heart pounded at his revelation, inhaling a sharp yet quiet breath because up until this moment, it had always been a silent understanding. Something had always existed between them, he knew it and so did she, but neither of them ever said anything. Neither of them acknowledged it.

And now Calum was looking at her in defeat, in exhaustion over this whole thing, and Maeve had a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to like where this was going.

“Calum—”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Maeve.” The words died in her throat, feeling it tighten as she looked at Calum with eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. He stared right back, eyebrows pulled together as he forced out words she didn’t think he wanted to say, but had to. His words hung in the room heavily, settling like an unmovable weight upon her chest. He didn’t. . . Want to do this anymore. “I can’t do this, not with you. And ’m not gonna keep puttin’ myself in a situation that just. . . Doesn’t feel right anymore.”

It felt like a slap in the face, it really did, with the sting of his words springing tears into her eyes because he wanted to be done. Maeve reeled at his words, blinking as her arms slowly uncrossed in her state of surprised disbelief. It was falling apart, right in front of her; her relationship with Calum—this complicated, wonderful, dizzying relationship—was coming to an end and Maeve didn’t know how to stop it, no matter how desperately she wished to.

The way Calum was looking at her, lips pressed together and the muscle in his jaw ticking, eyes swimming with so much emotion that it was overwhelming for her—Maeve could tell he didn’t want to do this, but had to because it was something that was probably good for him. And she wanted to tell him that they could fix this, she wanted to tell him the words she knew would change everything, but would that just come off as her telling him what he wanted to hear? Would he see it as a manipulative tactic? Because even as Maeve thought about it, she could tell that it may come off as that.

Her anxious over thinking rendered her speechless, forcing her to keep the words she desperately wanted to say in her mouth, not letting them fall off the tip of her tongue where they rested. Maeve’s body felt hot with frustration, her heart hammering as her head screamed at her to say the words Calum needed to hear—that she needed to say.

But she didn’t. And Calum’s throat worked as he gave a shake of his head, disenchanted by her lack of response. “Right,” he breathed raspily, nodding to himself as he looked down at his feet, and Maeve’s features fell when she saw the way his own face scrunched up. Like he was willing himself not to let his own tears from falling. Maeve was quickly losing that battle, too. “I’ve gotta go.”

Calum didn’t wait for Maeve to respond, not looking up until he turned around and was heading towards the door. He didn’t stop, didn’t spare her another look as he opened the door and walked out.

He left, the room now smelling of its familiar vanilla mixed with the subtle scent of Calum’s cologne. It only made it easier for the tears to fall once he was gone.

Flashback

“Go to hell,” Maeve pouted, forcing herself not to toss the cards in Calum’s direction like a child, instead of slapping them down on the grass. The brunette merely snickered, satisfied with himself as he took the cards from her and put them in his small pile. “I didn’t show you this game for you to bankrupt me.”

Calum grinned, running his tongue across his lower lip as he looked down at his hand. “Monopoly takes no prisoners, sweetheart,” he hummed, brown eyes meeting her blue, unshielded as her sunglasses rested atop her head.

They were seated comfortably upon the grass in Bryant Park, the mid May weather making for a beautiful day to be out in the city. It was fairly busy at the park, understandably so, as someone seated a few feet away from them played music from their portable speaker, the sound mixing in with the hum of people talking amongst themselves as well as the traffic on the street in front of the park.

Maeve narrowed her eyes, leaning towards Calum as the cards not in their hands remained laid out between them. With her mock glare furrowing her brows, Maeve told him flatly, “You suck.”

Calum leaned forward as well, minimizing the distance between them, noses just barely brushing together as Maeve peered into his dark eyes, willing herself not to get lost in them. Two months since they started whatever this was and she knew she was losing that battle tremendously. A smirk tilted at Calum’s lips, boyish and lazy as he remarked arrogantly, “Isn’t that your job?”

Her jaw dropped, a startled laugh escaping her at his teasing words, only prompting Calum to laugh as well with mirth dancing in his dark eyes, cute crinkles at the corners. He wiggled his eyebrows, suggestive and not at all innocent, and Maeve shot him a mocking smile as she said, “You’re not funny.”

Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “I’m hilarious,” he replied, though he barely got the words out because Maeve shut him up by placing her free hand to the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Calum hummed against her lips, earnestly returning the kiss as she felt his own hand cup her cheek, rings cool against her skin and fingers brushing into her hair. He tasted like the gum he’d been chewing, fresh and minty, and Maeve couldn’t stop herself from leaning in, completely intoxicated by the feel of his soft lips as they moved with hers so perfectly.

“You know, not everyone’s comfortable with so much PDA.”

Maeve pulled away from Calum at the new, familiar voice, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as she sat up and looked to see Michael standing over them. He stood, arms crossed and an amused smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at them, raising his eyebrows. Calum huffed as he looked up at his best friend, pressing his lips together as he tasted the strawberry chapstick he’d kissed off Maeve’s lips. “What’re you doing here, Mike?”

The green eyed man snickered. “Interrupting you two, apparently.”

Maeve breathed out a laugh of her own, shuffling her few cards in her hands. She wasn’t bothered with Michael catching them, even if it was in a place as busy as New York. Her and Calum had been running around for two months now, doing whatever the hell it is they were doing, and she was well aware that Michael knew of their little arrangement—just like Lina knew, given that they were their best friends. The two of them needed to gossip with someone about this deal they had with one another.

Continuing after brushing the fringe out of his eye from under his cap, Michael said, “Nah, I’m just hanging out with—”

“Maeve? Calum?”

She froze at the new voice, eyes widening when her gaze shifted from Michael to the man that appeared at his side, heart dropping to the pit of her stomach when Luke came into view. Her brother’s best friend. Maeve stared up at him, shock coursing through her because she didn’t think Luke and Michael still hung out. More than that—she wasn’t entirely sure if Luke was going to mention to Ashton that he’d caught her hanging out with the guy he couldn’t stand.

The blue eyed blonde looked down at the two of them, confusion written across his face as he looked between them, raised eyebrows showing just how unexpected the sight was for him as it was for Maeve. He was slowly chewing a mouthful of roasted peanuts, taking in the way Maeve was gaping up at him because she was too speechless to actually say something.

“You two, uh, friends now?” Luke questioned, gesturing between her and Calum with a single ring clad finger.

“Somethin’ like that,” Calum answered, not as shaken at the blonde’s presence as Maeve was. He leaned back on his hands, looking up the two guys with ease. With an effortless grin, he added, “Don’t let us stop your date.”

Maeve pressed her lips together as Michael smirked. “I was gonna say the same to you,” he hummed, nudging Luke with his elbow as a way of telling him they should go. Looking back at the two seated people, Michael added, “Have fun, you two. Remember to keep the PDA to a minimum.”

Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Fuck outta here.”

Michael laughed as he offered a wave, and Luke bid goodbye with a simple, “See you two around,” before following Michael away.

Maeve stared after them, after him, lips parted and still feeling startled at seeing Luke. She felt the urge to go after him, to make him promise not to mention this to Ashton at all, but Maeve felt rooted in her spot. Whatever she had going on with Calum was still fairly new, but it was good and fun, and the thought of it coming to an end because of her brother had her stomach twisting uneasily.

“Hey,” she heard Calum say, a finger poking at her knee as she forced herself to face him once more. He furrowed his eyebrows at her pale expression. “You okay?”

“Do you think Luke will say anything?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “To Ash?”

The crease in Calum’s forehead smoothed out at her question, understanding her sudden concern. He looked over her shoulder in the direction the other two boys went, curls dancing across his forehead with the light breeze that blew by. Calum stayed silent in quiet consideration for a moment as Maeve chewed her lower lip in worry. “No, I don’t think so,” he answered finally, with a firm shake of his head. “I doubt he’s gonna wanna purposefully piss Ashton off. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

Maeve let out a gentle scoff, raising her eyebrows. “You sound so sure.”

“It’ll be fine, doll,” Calum assured before sitting up, picking up his cards and grinning, “Come on, I was kicking your ass.”

It wasn’t until later that day when Maeve finally got home, around five in the afternoon, that the worry she’d felt earlier came back in full swing. She entered the house, freezing almost instantly when she took a few steps in when she caught sight of who was sitting on the couch with her brother.

Maeve stood, gaping at Ashton and Luke in silent surprise, though her gaze seemed to be glued to the blue eyed man. He stared right back, eyebrows raised, as if silently asking her if everything was okay. Her heart was thundering in her chest, mind swirling with frantic questions, wondering if he’d told Ashton, wondering if he was going to if he hadn’t already. But he merely stared back, innocent and big blue eyed, as if he wasn’t aware of what could possibly be Maeve’s biggest secret. Her stomach turned uneasily, throat dry, unsure of what to say and wondering if she should say something.

“Can you move? You’re blocking the TV, Maeve,” Ashton spoke up, gesturing to her in annoyance with the remote in her hand. He eyed her with a frown, looking at her in bewilderment until she quickly moved, offering a brief apology before heading up the stairs to where her room was.

She barely shut the door, left ajar, as she tossed her purse on the bed and ran her fingers through her short hair. The worry brewed in the pit of her stomach as she sat down on the edge of her bed, nibbling on her nails—not that she really could. No way was she ruining a fifty dollar manicure.

But, fuck, she was kind of on the verge of having a bit of a meltdown. Maybe that was overdramatic, but things were going so well for her and Calum. They were having fun, enjoying each other’s company—and bodies—while also getting reacquainted with one another, and Maeve didn’t want any of that to come to an end so soon. Because she knew, if Ashton were to find out. . . Man, saying he’d be pissed off would be the understatement of the century.  

Maeve wasn’t sure how long she was sitting in her panic, changed into a pair of comfortable clothes and keeping herself busy on the word search app on her phone—though being so distracted because of her anxiety over today didn’t allow her to beat her personal record. But eventually, there was a knock on her door and she looked up to see Luke pushing it open and peeking his head in.

Their eyes met, and Luke took a step in as a dimpled grin spread across his face when he commented, “You should’ve seen the look on your face. Priceless.”

She licked her lips, dropping her phone and shifting to sit on the edge of her bed, hands on either side of her and shoulders up to her ears, trying and failing to ground herself. “Can you blame me? You and I both know what you saw earlier.”

The smile from Luke’s face slipped as he leaned against the wall by the door, hands behind his back as he let out a breath. They grew silent for a minute, Luke scratching his right eyebrow before asking, “Are you gonna tell Ash?”

Maeve let out a humorless chuckle, raising her eyebrows. “So he can kill Calum? Fuck no.” Luke exhaled sharply through his nose, and Maeve bit the inside of her lower lip as she stood up, taking a few steps towards him. “I know Ashton is your best friend and I would never want you to lie to him but I just—I need you to keep this to yourself, Luke, please. He can’t find out.”

Luke looked at her for a moment, searching her eyes for something, before letting out another breath and rubbing his hands down his face. “Of all the guys, Maeve, it had to be Calum?” he questioned with his hands still covering his face, words muffled but understandable before he dropped his hands to his sides.

She offered a sheepish, almost apologetic smile with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “The universe works in mysterious ways?”

He let out a laugh, still in a state of disbelief. “Fuck off,” he grinned before pushing himself off the wall. Running his fingers through his hair, Luke looked down at her, his large body towering over hers easily. “I’ll keep your dirty little secret. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Maeve scoffed lightly, relief washing over at his words. Knowing Luke was going to keep her secret, even from his best friend, eased many of Maeve’s worries. He was a good person and she hated that she was forcing him to keep something from Ashton, but she needed him to, and she was grateful. “So do I,” she breathed, smile widening as Luke pulled her in for a goodbye hug.

About fifteen minutes after Luke left, Maeve headed downstairs into the kitchen. Just as she grabbed a banana, Ashton entered the kitchen, stopping her when he asked, “What’s going on with you and Luke?”

Maeve shot him a frown, tilting her head slightly in confusion. His question caught her off guard, so did the way he asked it a bit too innocently, like there was some underlying motive. As she peeled the banana, Maeve gave a shake of her head and asked, “What do you mean?”

Gesturing towards the living room vaguely, Ashton said, “Well, you were acting weird earlier and then he actually went to your room to say bye.” His eyebrows twitched into a frown. “Something going on?”

Okay, Maeve was utterly bewildered. Her chewing of the banana slowed down as she stared at her half-brother, frown deepening as she choked out a laugh. What was he even talking about? She had an idea, she’d be dumb not to, but the fact that he was actually asking her if something was happening between her and Luke was kind of hilarious. “I—No, Ashton,” Maeve told him truthfully with a laugh. “I don’t—No, there’s nothing going on with me and Luke.” When he didn’t look entirely convinced, Maeve rolled her eyes, shoulders dropping. “What, do you think I have a crush on him? Because I don’t.”

He stared at her for a few more minutes, and Maeve widened her eyes pointedly, an incredulous smile still growing on her face because she’d been asking Luke to keep his mouth shut about her secret relationship/arrangement with Calum, and here Ashton was, thinking she had something going on with Luke.

“Okay, okay,” Ashton finally relented, letting out a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry, I just thought—anyway, uh, good.” He turned to walk out of the kitchen, stopping as he pointed at her with a finger, eyebrows raising as he added, “Stay away from my friends.”

She stared after him as he went, unable to entirely tell if he was joking or being serious. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her it was the latter, and suddenly Maeve’s appetite was gone.

Because if Ashton didn’t want her getting involved with his friends, God knows how he’d react if he found out she was getting involved with an ex-friend.

Day 243

He’d just left a bar, only allowing himself a few beers that he caught with a few guys from work, when his phone started vibrating incessantly. He was walking towards the subway as he pulled his phone out, stopping at a corner waiting to cross the street when he saw each text he received—about seven of them—were from Maeve. Calum’s eyebrows drew together as he read the messages, not one hundred percent coherent given the extra unnecessary letters and misspellings some of the words consisted of.

He rolled his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it as he felt his chest constrict. He hadn’t seen her in, what, twenty days? More? Calum was, frankly, surprised he was able to keep his distance from her for that long, and he was also surprised that Maeve gave it to him, too, never calling or texting him. The disappointment that came with that was unjustified, given that it was he who told her he was done, but it was still present. And since that day at the motel where he finally told her how he felt, the weight hadn’t lifted from Calum’s shoulders. If anything, it felt heavier, pushing him down more and more. It was only a matter of time until he fell to his knees.

Calum had told her he loved her and then he walked away. He didn’t entirely blame Maeve for not reaching out, but he still found himself selfishly wishing that she did.

Fuck, he was never happy, was he?

No. He was. Despite the drama and the secrets, Calum had been happy when he was with Maeve. He could never lie about that.

Looking down at the texts, Calum’s jaw tightened when he saw that Maeve was begging for him to come to the motel, to their spot. From what he could make out, she was already there, waiting for him, alone and drunk, and the thought of her being there by herself was unsettling. Calum had half a mind to text Lina or Audra, asking one of the girls to check in on Maeve, but he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied unless he saw her with his own eyes.

People moved around him, crossing the street as he remained put, gaze lifting as he thoughtfully looked ahead of him. The buildings around him were glittered with lights, cars buzzing and honking as they drove past, and Calum debated if he should go. Debated if it was his place to check in on her. He wanted to keep his distance, that had been the plan, hadn’t it?

But, fuck, Calum would be lying if he said the past twenty-three days spent without any sort of contact from Maeve hadn’t been damn near agonizing. How the fuck had he lived his life before they ran into each other at the Bryant Park Grill?

So he texted her, promising to be there soon, and turned around to head to another subway down a few blocks that would take him to Penn Station. His mind was made up.

The half and hour journey seemed to drag on forever to the point where as soon as Calum reached Hoboken, he practically sprinted to the Skyview Motel. The air felt chilling in his lungs as he finally reached the motel, going up the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor and the familiar door of room 304. Calum let out a breath, heart drumming in his chest as he knocked on the door, chewing on the inside of his lower lip as he impatiently waited, hoping Maeve hadn’t passed out during his journey over.

Calum turned his ear towards the door as he heard footsteps on the other side, the relief rushing the air out of his lungs as the door swung open to reveal Maeve, barefoot yet dressed in fitted leather pants and a laced red bodysuit, clearly finished with a fun night out.

“Calum!” she greeted, cheery and drunk with flushed cheeks and lips that no longer were painted red but he could tell at one point in the night, they had been. “You’re here,” she added with a giddy grin, both hands grabbing his left wrist and tugging him into the warmth of the room.

He let her pull him in, eyebrows raising because, yeah, she was drunk as he shut the door behind them. Her purse and jacket was tossed on the table, shoes on the floor. Her blonde hair was a bit messy but her makeup was perfect, and even if it wasn’t Calum knew she would still be effortlessly beautiful. “Yeah, I am, sweetheart,” he told her, the term of endearment slipping past his lips before he could stop it.

It seemed, even in her drunken state, Maeve noticed as her grin widened, standing in front of him as her hands gripped the lapels of his bomber jacket. She looked up at him, bluish-green eyes glittering and freckles standing out against her flushed cheeks as she softly hummed, “I love when you call me that.”

He looked down at her, lips pressing together and throat working because all he could see in her eyes, past the drunken haze and sleepiness, was honesty. She was smiling up at him, still smelling of her familiar fruity and cocoa butter perfume and lotion that Calum often found himself getting dizzy on, and he felt his chest tighten. Maeve had the remarkable ability of so easily enticing emotions from him, emotions he’d tried so hard to push aside where she was concerned because he knew he’d only end up hurt—which he did. But saying no to Maeve. . . Calum had accepted it wasn’t something he was good at. No matter how hard he tried.

“I know,” he told her softly, unable to stop his hand from reaching up and using his finger to brush some blonde hair away from her face. “Come on, Maeve,” Calum added, arm wrapping around her waist as he started moving them towards the bed, “You should get some sleep.”

“No,” Maeve whined, pushing away from Calum and stumbling on her feet. He grabbed her elbow gently, making sure she didn’t fall, as he eyed her with a mixture of surprise and worry. She faced him once more, pouting as she pointed a finger at him lazily. “If I go to sleep, then you’ll leave,” she said, her words a tired and drunken drawl. “You left me here last time. You’ll leave.”

Calum’s throat dried, lips parting as he looked at the woman who was looking at him sadly, complete with a frown on her eyebrows and lips. Despite being drunk, Calum could tell that Maeve was genuinely hurt, that him leaving her the way he had that day had really been eating away at her. And it wasn’t like Calum was trying to give her a taste of her own medicine—never in a million years because he wasn’t an asshole. He would never hurt someone he cared about—someone he loved—intentionally. Calum thought he was giving them both what they needed. Now he was realizing, after understanding how the days since he left her fucking sucked more than he thought, that distance wasn’t the answer. He couldn’t stay away from her, not even if he tried, and it was obvious she hadn’t fared well either.

“I won’t leave, doll,” Calum assured her, stepping towards her as his hands found her cheeks. Her throat worked, looking up at him with big, glassy eyes and he felt his chest tighten even more. He hated himself for hurting her. “I’ll be right here with you, yeah? I’ll spend the night.”

Maeve looked up at him, eyes narrowed in drunken suspicion. “Promise?”

She spoke softly, hopefully, and if there was any ounce of doubt or fight in Calum, it left immediately with the look she was giving him. How had he ever thought he could stay away from her? The thought was almost laughable now.

Not the first time Calum had been stupid where Maeve was concerned.

His thumbs rubbed on her cheeks, nodding his head and offering a smile. “Promise,” he responded breathily, the smile she returned warming him up.

They took a few minutes to make sure to let Maeve’s parents know that she was staying at a friend’s, and then Calum took her to the bathroom where she could wash off her makeup, all the while moaning and complaining about not having her wipes and hating that she only had water and soap before drying herself off.

He then brought her to the bed, pushing back the comforter and helping her into her designated side. Maeve settled down, though she didn’t lie down as she bagan unbuttoning her pants. “Can’t sleep in these,” she mumbled sleepily, frowning down at the pants she struggled to unbutton.

Calum pressed his lips together, watching her fingers stumble over themselves and fail to complete their task. He let out a breath, crouching down to his knees and gently swatting her fingers away and bringing his own ring clad ones to swiftly unbutton her pants. Maeve giggled sleepily, “At least take me out to dinner first.”

He suppressed the amused huff of laughter, undoing her pants and shimmying them down her legs before folding them and placing the pants at the end of the bed. Calum took a look at the bodysuit she was wearing as he stood up, figuring it probably wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep in, and shrugged off his jacket. As Maeve pulled the comforter up to her hips, Calum asked, “Want my shirt?”

Her eyes met his, wide but tired, as she responded almost timidly, “Please.”

Well fuck, melt his heart, why didn’t she.

He took the shirt off, leaving him shirtless as he handed it to Maeve before walking around the bed towards his side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Calum felt the gentle shifting of the mattress as Maeve took off the bodysuit, and Calum stared at the wall in front of him. This wasn’t how he thought his night would go, sitting in the room that had become one of his favorite places over the months, with the woman that had honestly become one of his favorite people. He had no problem admitting that to himself, not when he’d already admitted his feelings to her.

Even when Calum had told Maeve that he couldn’t keep continuing whatever they were doing, he had a hard time believing his own words, which only presented more doubt of being able to follow through. And he should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to. Not when it came to her.

Calum felt a hand on his bare shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts as Maeve tugged him back, silently getting him to lie down. He looked at her as she shifted downwards, looking a lot more calm and sober than when he first arrived, though Calum figured sleep was washing over her quickly. Smiling gently, Calum toed off his shoes and socks and lifted the comforter to slide in, unable to stop himself from thinking how adorable she looked swimming in his shirt.

“Come here,” he mumbled, laying down and lifting his right arm, allowing Maeve to scoot closer until she was pressed against his side and her cheek was resting against his chest, and he lowered his arm around her to keep her close. The warmth of her body against his was comforting, familiar, and a feeling Calum never wanted to deprive himself of ever again.

He heard and felt her hum against him, eyes fluttering closed as her hand rested on his chest as well. The smile that tugged on Calum’s lips wasn’t one he could stop, taking in the sweep of her lashes and the freckles dotting her skin. “Thanks for coming, Cal,” Maeve mumbled sleepily, her breath warm against his skin.

Calum’s fingers gently brushed her hair away from her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as he murmured back, “Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

She hummed happily, sleepily, and Calum thought she would drift away right then and there. But then she spoke up one last time, sending shockwaves through Calum’s body that would keep him up for the rest of the night. “G’night, Cal. Love you.”

Yeah. He was definitely not getting any sleep.

Day 246

As she pulled into the line of the Starbucks drive through, waiting for her turn to order, Maeve pulled out her phone, busying herself while she waited. She fooled around one some of the apps, lips twisting to the side as nothing seemed to particularly interest her, her finger accidentally slipping when she was on Snapchat as it took her to the map. And then she saw Calum’s location, right in the spot that was theirs, and her eyebrows raised as she saw that he was there right now. The drive through line creeped forward as Maeve messaged him a familiar quip, What chick are you sneaking there?

His response was almost instant, Just waiting for you to get the hint. My location is loud & clear.

Maeve let out a breathy laugh, telling him she’d be there soon as it was her turn to order. She ordered her own drink before deciding to get Calum his usual order as well and being on her way. As she drove, Maeve could feel her stomach twisting and turning in familiar knots, reminding herself that today was the day. Today, she was going to try and let go of her worries and concerns, because the drunk version of herself already had.

It had been three days since Maeve, in drunken and sleepy stupor, had told Calum she loved him, and it had been two days since she remembered the fact. And when she had suddenly recalled that memory, vague as it may be, Maeve knew it had happened, and she wasn’t sure if she was mortified that the first time she told Calum she loved him was when she was drunk, or worried over the fact that he never brought it up. Had she thought it was just something she said while she was drunk, therefore not really meaning it? Or because he had moved on?

She swallowed the discomfort at that thought. She hoped to God that wasn’t it.

But Maeve was done. She was finished with the constant pushing aside of her feelings, and she was done with ignoring Calum’s feelings for her—if he still had them. She was done with them dancing on their toes around each other, never really uttering how they felt until it was too late. God, hadn’t they wasted enough time already?

“Hey, my personal UberEats is here,” Calum grinned upon opening the door and catching sight of Maeve and the drinks she held. He looked good, as always, in a ripped up shirt tucked into his pants and his favorite black Doc Martens. He made Maeve’s heart race so damn easily.

A scoff escaped her, handing him his as she entered the room. “Anyone who gets Starbucks delivered is pathetic,” Maeve responded factually before taking a long sip of her drink, as if the frappuccino was going to grant her some courage to say what she wanted to. And as soon as she put the drink down on the table, Maeve blurted out, “How come you never said anything about what I told you the other night?”

She turned around just as she said, looking at Calum who was mid sip of his iced latte, eyebrows raised at her in surprise. “Uh,” he sounded, releasing the straw as his dark brows furrowed. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, doll.”

“No, I don’t,” she responded with a shake of her head. Maeve saw it in his eyes, in the recognition that flashed across them, and for a brief moment she was relieved that she was able to read him once again, so easily. Was relieved that he allowed her to. She took a few steps towards him, arms crossed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Cal. I doubt you forgot.”

Calum sighed, not even bothering to keep up the charade as he held the hand that held his drink out while he spoke. “Because you were drunk and half asleep, Maeve. I wasn’t—” he paused, exhaling through his nose as he pressed his lips together. His eyes met hers once more. “I guess I didn’t just wasn’t sure if you meant it or not.”

Her heart sank at that, and Maeve in that moment acknowledged that telling him that way was a complete idiot move on her part, even if she didn’t entirely have control over it. She looked at Calum, at the way he pressed his downward turned lips together, and her heart jumped into her throat. Maeve closed the distance between them, approaching the tall brunette as the closer she got to him, the higher her gaze lifted. Once she was in front of Calum, embraced by his familiar scent and cologne, she felt some of the tension in her muscles relax.

Lifting her hands, Maeve placed them on either side of his neck as Calum looked down at her, and she hoped he saw the honesty in her eyes and heard it in her voice when she said, “I hate that the first time I told you that was when I was drunk, but I mean it, Calum.” She saw his dark eyes looking back and forth between hers, could feel him holding his breath, and Maeve’s lips turned upwards in a smile she couldn’t contain. God, she could hear her heart thundering in her ears, but she knew Calum heard her loud and clear when she said, “I love you.”

It took him a few moments to process her words—words he wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting for her to say. But once Maeve uttered them, they flew around in Calum’s head, settled deep within his chest and sent electricity through his veins and he was fucking finished.

He had half the mind to reach behind him to put the latte down on the bedside table before his arms wrapped around Maeve’s waist and crushed her into him, lips finding hers immediately in a kiss that was so different than the ones they’d shared. This one held nothing back; it was full and open and honest, pouring every single emotion into it with a stunning force that rendered both of them utterly breathless.

Maeve’s hands went from Calum’s neck to the back of his head, wrapping her arms around him as his tongue slid against hers, his own arms embracing her in a way that made her feel so safe—safer than their little motel room.

What they had, had been messy at the start, and despite being open about their feelings, both Maeve and Calum knew things were just as complicated—if not more. Hiding a friends with benefits situation wasn’t too difficult, but with the silent and mutual agreement of wanting to be together, they knew eventually, they’d have to come clean. Eventually, her brother would need to find out that she was dating the guy he couldn’t stand. Eventually, shit was going to hit the fan.

But for now, they were pretty damn content.

Day 274

“Can—you—let me—go?” Maeve could barely get the words out between her laughter and the fact that Calum’s lips never seemed to want to leave hers, her hands applying some pressure on his shoulders as a feeble attempt to push him off. Calum’s arms remained winded around her waist, his back pressed against the brick wall as he kept kissing her, a crinkly eyed grin on his face that Maeve couldn’t get enough of. She lightly slapped his shoulders, trying to pull away. “Come on, Cal, I have to pee.”

“Fine, fine,” Calum relented, reluctantly dropping his arms from around her. He remained leaned against the wall, pouting as she stepped back from him with an amused grin. “I’m gonna go out back for a smoke.”

She voiced her acknowledgement before disappearing into the ladies room, and Calum then made his way down the hall towards the main area of the bar, but instead of going to where his friends were, he opened the door that led to the back alley smoking spot. The door shut behind him as he pulled out his packet of cigarettes and lighter, placing one between his lips as he lit it. It sent a spark of warmth through him in the chilly night, the alley in between two bars dark and justifiably smelly as he saw the occasional car drive by on the street a few feet ahead.

But Calum barely got to enjoy two puffs of the cigarette, because suddenly the door he’d just come through burst open, slamming against the wall and startling Calum—though not as much as the man that stormed through.

Ashton’s eyes, wild with anger even in the dark of the night, caught Calum’s surprised ones as his hands tightened into fists as he stormed over. His footsteps thudded heavily on the concrete, and Calum watched as the vein in Ashton’s neck threatened to burst as he all but yelled out, “Stay the fuck away from my sister!”

Oh, fu—

Calum couldn’t even finish that dumbfounded thought because Ashton’s fist unforgivingly collided with his jaw, knocking the cigarette right out of his hand as he stumbled right back into the brick wall with a groan. He’d felt the dull force of Ashton’s knuckles as well as the metallic hit of the rings he wore, and Calum’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to gather his bearings as quickly as he could.

It didn’t matter how Ashton found it. The point was, he knew, and Calum was in deep shit.

Ashton was right on him once again, fist connected with the same jaw, slamming Calum’s head into the wall as the brick scraped against his temple, and this time drawing blood as Calum tasted the copper on his tongue. “The fuck were you thinking, huh? Are you fucking stupid?”

For fuck’s sake. He blinked away the spots that were dancing in front of his eyes, the sudden burst of dizziness still present, but allowing Ashton to get two hits in was enough. Mustering up the energy and ignoring the thundering of his heart, Calum pushed Ashton away and delivered a punch of his own to keep him back for good measure, straightening as he spat the mouthful of blood. “I’m thinkin’ that your sister is a grown fuckin’ woman who can make her own decisions,” Calum snapped, his own anger letting loose as he took a somewhat shaky step forward, the sole of his shoes scraping against the ground. His head fucking hurt, and Calum knew that once the adrenaline wore off, it would probably be much worse. Calum could feel the blood trickling down his chin, could still taste it, as he all but taunted, “Who she fucks is none of your business.”

It was a poor, antagonizing choice of words, Calum was well aware, but he was fucking sick of it. Sick of the hiding, sick of sneaking around, all because Ashton had an issue with him. It was about damn time everyone got the fuck over it.

As expected, Ashton launched at him again, an angered, primal growl escaping him as he ran at Calum and crouched to push him against the wall by his stomach, slamming Calum against it once again. The brunette groaned as the bricks dug into his back, at Ashton’s vice like grip on him, but Calum lifted his right arm before jamming his elbow directly on Ashton’s upper back, which had him falling, only for Calum to swiftly bring his knee up and bury it harshly in Ashton’s chest.

He groaned, tumbling to the ground as the wind was knocked out of him, and Calum stood above, his breath uneven and quick. Looking down at him, Calum swallowed the tightness in his throat, the anger that was simmering. Fuck this. Calum moved to step around him, gingerly licking his lip and tasting the blood and wincing at the cut that was there. At least he hadn’t lost a tooth.

But just as he took another step, Ashton seemed to recover, grabbing Calum’s leg with a growl of, “Fucking son of a bitch,” and giving a harsh tug, sending Calum to the floor as he groaned when he landed on his front on the concrete. He struggled to get up, feeling Ashton’s hands force him to lay on his back as he got on top of him, and Calum caught sight of the rage in his darkened eyes. He was pissed off, beyond comprehension, and Calum couldn’t help but wonder how they’d come to this. Were they really so far into this, to the point of no return? Would there ever be any coming back from this?

Just before Ashton’s fist could descend, Calum vaguely heard the door slam open, followed by the sound of Maeve’s voice screaming, “Stop!”

And then Ashton was being pulled away, two pairs of arms grabbing him as he struggled against them, his weight no longer on top of Calum. He sat up, breathing labored, just as Maeve rushed to his side, crouching down with one hand wrapping around his arm and the other going around his waist to help him to his feet. For the moment, Calum ignored Ashton’s angry words to Luke and Michael about letting him the fuck go, instead choosing to look at Maeve, who’s light eyes were swimming with terror and concern as she eyed the blood on his face.

“Oh, my God, Calum—you’re—are you okay?” she asked, her voice breathy and rushed and thick with emotion. Her hand left his arm, gingerly touching his jaw as she looked at him, and Calum winced only when she drew her hand back and saw her skin stained with his blood.

Before he could say anything, though, Ashton’s hard voice cut through the air. “Get the fuck away from him, Maeve.”

If it didn’t hurt so damn much, the adrenaline quickly wearing off, Calum would clench his jaw at Ashton’s words. Instead, his eyes narrowed into a glare at the man who was already scowling at him, not entirely calmed down as Luke and Michael flanked him, ready to interfere once again if they had to. Maeve looked at her half-brother, her throat working. There was no blood on him, which she saw as a good sign, but it also angered her knowing that Calum was right next to her, bleeding.

“No, Ashton.” She gave a shake of her head, her arm around Calum’s waist tight as his arm laid around her shoulders. She couldn’t believe that this was how Ashton came to find out about her and Calum, couldn’t believe that she missed any opportunity to tell him in the past two months her and Calum had officially gotten together. Though, honestly, she wondered if his reaction would’ve been any different. “He’s my boyfriend, so no—I won’t get away from him.”

Her brother stared at her, her words widening his already angered eyes as he took a few steps towards them, Michael and Luke hastily following as Ashton snapped, “Your fucking what?” His eyes darted between the two of them, standing close with their arms around one another, before letting out a dry scoff. “Are you fucking serious? Maeve, what the hell—”

“Look, Ashton,” Maeve spoke up, finding her voice once again. She didn’t want to piss Ashton off anymore than he was, though she figured that was a little too late. But Maeve was done with all the hiding and being scared of him finding out—given that he knew now. It was out in the open, and seeing what Ashton did to Calum only gave her more of the strength to stand by her relationship. “I’m sorry you found out this way, but I’m not going to apologize for my relationship. Your issues with Calum have gone on long enough and it’s about time you either move on, or just get the hell over it.”

Ashton looked at her, the anger mixing with disbelief as he parted his lips. But Maeve stared right back, didn’t cower under his gaze as she kept Calum close. She felt him squeeze her shoulders encouragingly, saw Michael and Luke exchange knowing looks on either side of Ashton. A breathless scoff escaped Ashton as he subtly nodded to himself and raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking his side over mine?”

It always came down to sides, didn’t it?

Maeve looked at Calum, saw him already looking down at her with brown eyes that failed to hide his worry, the blood still trickling down his chin. She knew her answer as she looked back at Ashton. “Yeah. I am.”

Day 298

The house was filled with people, all Maeve’s closest friends and family, present for a brunch her parents threw for her twenty-fourth birthday. The early afternoon was filled with drinking mimosas, eating delicious food, and taking loads of pictures as Maeve enjoyed the company of her loved ones. Except that happiness dulled every so often when her eyes met those of her half-brother’s, hazel eyes void of any emotion save for what she achingly knew as betrayal. Maeve had a sinking feeling that Ashton was only present for her birthday because it was expected of him, because their parents told him to put aside whatever anger he had at Maeve and Calum’s relationship and to be there for his sister’s birthday.

The idea of him being forced to be here twisted at Maeve’s heart.

She was standing with Calum in the living room, the two of them chatting up with Maeve’s cousin Dawn when her eyes caught sight of Ashton heading up the stairs. Her eyebrows furrowed after him, biting the inside of her cheek before quickly looking at Calum and Dawn and saying, “I’ll be right back, guys.”

They nodded, Calum’s eyes meeting Maeve’s where she could see the silent concern. Calum was another target of Ashton’s anger, though what he was on the receiving end of a more violent type of rage. What she was getting was the silent, cold shoulder and dagger eyes that had her heart sinking in her chest each time. She hated that she upset him, but Maeve couldn’t be sorry for being with Calum. She had spent too long telling herself it was a bad idea when it wasn’t; how could it feel so good if it was?

After shooting Calum a reassuring smile, Maeve weaved through the people around her house and headed up the stairs quickly, hoping to catch Ashton before he locked himself in his old bedroom like a stubborn child.

“Ash,” she called, spotting him in the hall. He didn’t stop as he kept going, and Maeve let out a breath as she kept following him. “Come on, Ash, can we talk?”

“We’ve got nothing to talk about, Maeve,” Ashton said, turning to look at her blankly. “You’ve made your choice. Glad to know where I stand.”

She released an exhausted sigh, giving a desperate shake of her head. “Why does it have to be a choice in the first place? Why can’t you two just forgive and forget, huh? You got in a stupid fight for a stupid reason, Ashton—just let it go.”

Ashton tightened his jaw, lips pursed as he glared at her. “It’s not that simple.”

Maeve’s heart thudded. Was that some kind of hint he was willing to try at least? “It can be,” she told him, her tone turning soft as she took a few steps towards her half-brother. Offering a small smile, she said, “Something I learned over the past few months is that we just make shit harder for ourselves because we’re too stubborn to think it can be easy.” When Ashton scoffed, not entirely convinced, Maeve licked her lips and looked up at him with an apologetic, almost sad, expression. “I know I hurt you, Ash, and I’m so sorry for it. But asking me to be sorry for loving Calum would be like asking me to lock away a part of myself. And you had always been the one to tell me to never be afraid of being me.”

She saw some, not all, but some of the anger in his eyes melt away, face scrunching up in half hearted annoyance as he groaned, “Don’t use my words against me.”

Maeve braved another smile. “That’s another thing I’m not sorry for.” When he rolled his eyes, she grew serious once more. “You have every right to be mad, Ash, but doesn’t that get tiring? I know if you and Cal just talk it out, you’ll be able to get past this. You can’t tell me you don’t miss him.”

Ashton’s expression hardened a bit, tone warning as he started, “Maeve—”

“Please, Ashton,” she begged, hands grasping one of his. “You two are three of the most important men in my life, and since Dad doesn’t have any beef with Cal, I need you to at least consider what I said.”

He was silent for a few moments, looking down at her pleading eyes, until finally he let out a sigh with his gaze flickering to the ceiling and gave in with a muttered, “Fine.”

Whether he meant it or was just saying it to shut Maeve up, she wasn’t entirely sure, but for now, she took it. She grinned, happy for the moment, before pulling him in for a hug. Maeve relaxed when Ashton returned the hug, the relief flooding her because, God, she didn’t think he’d ever hug her again after all of this shit. And it felt good, to hug Ashton again after so many days of him giving her the complete silent treatment, of her feeling like she was going to lose her brother if she hadn’t already.

Things weren’t resolved, not by a long shot, but this was a start.

Day 304

“Hey, isn’t that. . .” Calum spoke up, eyebrows furrowing as they pulled into the parking lot of their favorite spot. Maeve followed his confused gaze, her eyebrows shooting up when she saw exactly what he was looking at. “Isn’t that Ashton’s car?”

It was. Maeve recognized the pick-up anywhere, exchanging a bewildered look with her boyfriend at the sight of the vehicle. What the hell was he doing here? Calum pulled into his usual parking spot and the two of them got out, hugging their jackets close to them in the cool November air as they both glanced around, trying to catch sight of her brother, though finding no sign of him anywhere. She looked at Calum, who was squinting in confusion before he shrugged at her, and the two of them headed towards the reception, though Maeve was still looking around for Ashton.

Calum quickly paid for the room—the receptionist, Ted, was on a first name basis with them at this point, and vice versa—and the two of them began making their way to their favorite room. “Seriously, though,” Maeve frowned as they headed up the first flight of stairs. “Why’s his car here? Where the hell is he?”

“Maybe he rented a room?” Calum guessed with a confused raise of his eyebrows, glancing back down at her given that he was a step ahead of her. He chuckled at the flat look Maeve shot him, before shrugging, “I don’t know, love.”

Maeve scrunched her face up as they continued, her curiosity not at all satisfied. When they got to the third floor, turning the corner, Maeve and Calum both stopped short when her questions were answered at the sight of her brother leaning against the wall right next to the door of their room. He stood, busy on his phone, only looking up when he heard their footsteps.

The two of them gaped at him, not expecting him in front of their room, as Ashton straightened and pocketed his phone. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and Maeve could tell just how awkward and uncomfortable he looked, and all of her questions, as well as new ones, came to the forefront of her mind. “Uh,” Maeve sounded, glancing at Calum who looked just as bewildered, but still eyed Ashton warily. “Hey, Ash. . . What—what’re you doing here?”

“Um,” Ashton licked his lips, letting out a breath. “Lina told me you two would be here and I, uh, was hoping we could talk.”

Maeve pressed her lips together, not sure if she should curse or thank Lina for giving up the information. Even down to the room number. “S-Sure,” she told him, glancing at Calum to see if he was okay with it. His bruises from their fight had faded, and even though a potentially healing conversation is what Maeve wanted between them, she wanted to make sure no more punches were thrown.

Calum nodded silently and the two of them approached the door, and Maeve shot Ashton a small smile as Calum unlocked the room and the three of them walked inside. She wasn’t oblivious to the tension that settled upon all of them, and Maeve silently prayed things didn’t escalate between them. Luke and Michael weren’t around this time to interfere.

Calum and Maeve dropped their bags on the bed, turning to face Ashton who probably felt as out of place as he looked, hands still in his jacket pockets as his eyes took in the room around them. Maeve wondered if he was thinking it wasn’t as sleezy as he perhaps pictured it while he was waiting for them. “So what’s up?” Maeve questioned, trying to keep her tone light.

“I thought about what you said,” Ashton responded slowly after taking a breath. “And you were right. . . I am tired of being mad. And I’m. . .” His eyes met Calum’s and Maeve felt her boyfriend stiffen slightly, though her eyes remained on her brother as he finally said, “I’m sorry for being the shittiest friend—person—on the fucking planet.”  

Maeve’s eyes widened because, shit, she didn’t think she’d ever hear Ashton say that to Calum. She was holding her breath, his words hanging in the air as both she and Calum tried to register them. She was having a hard time processing—she wondered how Calum was faring.

When neither she nor Calum said anything, Ashton let out a breath as he pulled out a hand and rubbed it down his face. “Everything that’s happened between us—it’s my fault, man, and it’s about time I accepted that,” Ashton continued, his gaze still on Calum. “There’s no excuse for how I treated you, and you deserve better than someone taking you and your friendship for granted. I’m gonna—I’m going to work on this temper issue I have, alright? And I know this apology is, like, almost two years and a few punches too late but I am sorry. Really.”

His words had Maeve’s chest tightening, a smile threatening to spread across her face as she looked at Ashton. He looked genuinely apologetic for his actions, for everything that had happened between him and Calum, and she could hear it in his voice, too. And the fact that he actually sought Calum out to tell him face to face spoke volumes.

Glancing up at Calum, Maeve saw his throat working, the muscle in his jaw prominent which told her he was clenching it. His gaze remained on Ashton, processing his words, and he finally spoke up once he did. “If you came to me a year ago, I would’ve told you to fuck off.” Maeve held her breath at the words Calum spoke in his raspy voice. Calum lifted his chin and Maeve saw the ghost of a smirk tilting at his lips. “But I’m not the same person I was a year ago—and I can only thank Maeve for that. And I know you were hurt when you found out about us. So I’ll forgive you for all that shit, if you forgive me for hurting you, too—even if we weren’t friends when I did.”

Maeve rolled her lips into her mouth, feeling her heart launch into her throat as she looked between the two men. She felt like such a girl, getting so emotional at what was happening in front of her, but that wasn’t such a bad thing. They were finally, finally, finally making up, making things right—Maeve figured she had the right to get a bit choked up.

Especially when Ashton’s eyes met hers, saw just how emotional she was getting, and a dimpled smile tugged at his lips before he let out a breathless laugh and nodded at Calum. “Deal.”

And then the two of them were walking towards each other and Maeve watched, with the smile finally splitting across her face, as Calum and Ashton clasped each other’s hands and embraced in that one armed dude hug, slapping each other’s backs with their free hands, but staying in that position for a moment. Maeve would’ve totally photographed the sight in front of her if it didn’t ruin the moment, so instead, she just watched with a grin on her face and tears stupidly gathering in her eyes. But she didn’t care. They were finally okay. Maybe it would take them a while to go back to how things were before the Big Fight, but it was finally in the past. It wouldn’t loom over their heads anymore like a dark cloud; they would be okay. They’d be friends.

The two of them pulled away, smiles on their faces that Maeve knew they hadn’t given each other in almost two years, and Ashton’s eyes met hers as he said, “Alright, I’m gonna leave you two to it.” He walked backwards towards the door, adding in a joking tone, “I feel like I’m stepping on holy ground.”

Maeve finally let out a snicker, raising her eyebrows at him. “You are.”

Calum pressed his lips together to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape when Ashton shot her a disgusted look. “Gross,” he commented before opening the door. “You know you guys don’t have to sneak here anymore, right? Stop wasting money.”

Maeve rolled her eyes. “Bye, Ash,” she said in a sing-song tone, shooing him away with her hand. He chuckled, offering one last wave before he left. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Maeve turned to look at Calum. “He’s got a point though, you know. We don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

“I know,” Calum nodded, slowly sauntering over to where Maeve stood. “Which is why tonight’s our last night here.”

She raised her eyebrows, looking up at him once he stopped right in front of her. “It is?” she asked, narrowing her eyes when Calum nodded with a cute little mhm, something akin to mirth and delight dancing across his eyes. There was something he wasn’t telling her. “What’s so special about tonight?”

“Well,” Calum began, stretching the word out as he tilted his chin up, wrapping his arms around Maeve’s hips to pull her close before looking back down at her. His smile was soft across his face, a smile reserved especially for Maeve that always erupted butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She wrapped her own arms around him as she waited for him to continue. “Today, sweetheart, is the three hundred and fourth day since you and I ran into each other all those months ago in the Bryant Park Grill.”

Maeve blinked up at him, lips parting at the revelation. Her lips upturned into a grin, gentle and completely in love with him; 304. It was a silly little coincidence that related to the number of the very room they were standing in, the very room that had become their safe space to be with one another, but the fact that Calum actually counted the days since they saw each other for the first time at the restaurant had her heart bursting like she was in some damn cartoon. But she didn’t care; all she cared about was Calum.

“Three hundred and four, huh?” Maeve grinned, pressing her front against his as Calum mirrored her smile, looking just as entranced with her as she was with him. Sometimes she couldn’t believe they finally figured their shit out to be together. Maeve often wanted to punch herself for being so stubborn and not letting herself be with him sooner. “Is that our anniversary before our actual anniversary?”

“Yeah, why not?” Calum grinned, throwing her a quick wink. “Keeps things spicy.”

Maeve let out a laugh, which only widened Calum’s grin as she told him, “We rented a motel room every time we wanted to get together—that’s pretty spicy already.”

“You’re right,” Calum hummed, lowering his head to press his lips against Maeve’s. She instantly returned the kiss, leaning up into him as she stood on her toes, fingers tightening on the material of his jacket. His own hands shifted, going from her hips to her butt, digging into the pockets of her jeans and giving her a cheeky squeeze that had her grinning against his mouth. “I think the bed deserves one last round, don’t you?”

Maeve bit his lower lip, prompting him to tighten his grip on her as she coyly asked, “Just one?”

Calum groaned, shamelessly and completely crazy for her and the way she thought. “Fuck, I love you.”

She had no problem returning the sentiment during the next one, two, three rounds.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @sweetcherrymike @valentinelrh @astroashtonio @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @dammitbands @flannelpunkcalum @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @livibii123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @aulxna @mermaiden004 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn  

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[utanoprinces]

Dragon Route: Natsuki

After a long stretch of months in the creative pit, I have been very busy on my selfship blog but otherwise quietly sticking to work I have emerged with one of the first of my written commissions! Commissioned by the very kind and longsuffering @eldritchdoctor, who waited far too many months for it to be completed, the first of the Starish routes is here to be read at your leisure. This one, like Reiji’s, will not be in narration-player format like the others but is instead a very long one-shot. I hope you enjoy!

Tale of: the Merchant and Citrine Dragon

The first time you met him, you thought it’d be the last night you’d walk the earth. To this day, you wonder if—had you not crossed paths with him—it would have been. Your cart had broken down in the middle of the mountain crossing, right on the curve overlooking a valley. Normally, that would spell doom, as the kingdom at large is well aware that the area is rife with the Fae and all their mischief, tricks, and traps laid to ensnare unlucky or unsuspecting mortals. It’s said that even straying a meter from the man-made path is enough to get yourself caught up in a wild goose chase after false lanterns or end up some unknown creature’s meal, so when you’d nervously sat down on the grassy hill beside your broken cart in despair only to minutes-later be met with a sudden, gentle voice, you had immediately assumed it was the end.

“Cute, little human~!” The voice called. “Did your wheel box fall apart?”

Wheel box? You thought to yourself very absently, unable to think much else with a chill running down your spine. Realizing he meant the cart, you looked up—and froze in place.

He was tall, so tall. Broad-shouldered, but with a softness about his entire demeanor that nearly made you forget the danger you were in, and clad in a long, smooth coat that graduated from rich yellows to soft browns. Farther up, you were briefly entranced by the green of his eyes, like grass in sunlight, framed by a pair of filigree spectacles and wavy, beige-gold hair that twisted in so many shiny, pleasant ways that you were nearly bowled over by the very unprecedented desire to dig your hands into it and run your fingers through to the ends.

However, the most arresting part of the open, inviting face gazing down at you was not any of the features you’d normally consider yourself familiar with. Instead of his pale skin, his gentle smile, or those eyes that threatened to capture you once more, it was the twisting, bronze horns curling across his forehead that most caught your eye. 

He tilted his head, face shifting into a concerned expression with wide, owlish eyes.

“Hm? Can you not hear me…?” He kneeled before you to reach your eye level, still smiling far wider than was appropriate. He waved his hands in front of your face—his fingertips had claws!—and hummed. “Are you all right, human~?”

“What are you?” You blurted. His face broadened in surprise before he smiled once more.

“A friend. Here to help you.” He turned his attention away from you and tapped his face, standing straight as he approached your fallen cart with an appraising eye. Your attention zoned in on the golden tail behind him, crested with feathers near where it disappeared into his coat and at the end, where it splayed into beautiful long plumes that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. You quietly decided that—whatever he was—he was certainly the most stunning creature you'd ever seen.

It went on like that, with the strange being waving his hand in a seemingly random pattern and somehow pulling your cart together again. When he finished reassembling it, he returned to you and helped you up by gripping the back of your clothes as if you were a kitten and settled you on your feet.

“Are you traveling alone?” He asked. “That seems so lonely!”

“I don’t exactly have a choice,” you replied carefully. “I have to make a living somehow.” He hummed in awe, face turning once more to that innocent, wide-eyed expression. You almost wondered if he was teasing you, but he just seemed so… guileless. It was hard to gauge, so you kept your guard up, even as his tail swayed with interest.

“What is it you do exactly? I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to many humans! Syo always tries to drag me away when I see any.” 

You frowned. ‘Syo’? You shook your head and walked down to your cart, carefully brushing over the joints and straps and making sure nothing had fallen out when it broke down. You took up the straps again. “I’m a merchant. Traveling, usually but… I’ve heard of some opportunities near the capital that seem profitable.” 

“P… profitable?” The being squinted, as if testing the word in his mouth. You stared at him.

“Do you… know what commerce is, er…?” 

He brightened. “Natsuki!” His face fell again. “...and no… but I’m very curious to learn.” Somehow… something about the way he seemed so knowledgeable and yet so childish at once… it struck you. You couldn’t help breathing a small huff of amusement as you straightened the straps over your shoulders and took a step.

“You’re right, Natsuki. The journey has been pretty lonely, so far.” 

He easily caught up and fell into step beside you, politely and thoughtfully folding his hands in front of him. “I can keep you company! I’m so curious about humans, you know!” You smiled awkwardly at him.

“As long as you don’t try to snare me or take my name or anything…”

“Take your name?” He blinked. “Is that something humans do?” He gasped. “Is that what bandits do? Now I know why I always see people running from them!” This guy… was he really Fae? That was what you had thought until his eyes had lit up with understanding… moments before he seemed to shrink in on himself. “A-ah… I see. You’re… afraid.” You flinched. He sounded so, so terribly sad. You weren’t expecting a being like him to care what a human thought… or maybe you’d even thought he might show his true colors if you were blunt with him. However, to your surprise, he genuinely seemed concerned. He lowered his eyes, looking out over the swathes of forest that stretched away down the side of the path as you both trudged forward. “I… understand. Tokiya says humans avoid the valley because they are afraid of the Court, but… please believe me when I say that dragons and the Court are not entirely alike. We don’t wish to hurt humans.” He paused and frowned. “Well… most of us.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond. Court? Dragons? He was a dragon? But dragons hadn’t been heard of in over fifty years! Still, his tail, his horns, the casual way he’d used magic… it matched the legends you’d heard. What in the world were you meant to do with such information, though?

“I’m not afraid,” you blurted, and immediately snapped your mouth shut, feeling your face heat up. Okay, maybe that was impulsive. Maybe you’d just wanted to reassure him that you didn’t hate him, with him looking so gentle and wounded like he was. Almost instantly, his gaze snapped back to you, face splitting into an overjoyed grin that seemed to glow brighter than the moonlight itself… or perhaps that was the faintly-shimmering, golden mist that very subtly bloomed from between his lips and surrounded you both. Your heart stuttered as you were overcome with imagery, sensations… something you’d never quite felt before.

Biting into sweet pears and feeling the juices run down your hands but knowing that it would be washed away by clean water. Licking honey from your fingertips, surrounded by the scent of fresh bread and butter and the laughter of people you love. Being held in a pile of soft cushions, fingertips brushing down your skin.

He was golden. He was radiant. He was celestial. 

He… was the most beautiful thing you’d ever experienced and—you blinked. Wait just a moment; what was all that? You stared up at him, faltering in your steps as your brows knit and you attempted to gauge his demeanor. Natsuki simply smiled, his eyes soft and distant, his energy overall serene and unthreatening.

“I’m happy if that’s the case,” he said carefully, eyes never leaving yours. “I’m happy if you trust me enough to take you wherever you’re going.” He blinked slowly and tilted his head. “You are… incredibly fascinating and cute.”

The heat in your face had increased, your walk had continued, and finally, after many hours, you’d reached the end of the mountain pass. Before you reached the outpost, Natsuki regaled you with tales of his interactions with pixies, of the annual revel of the Fae Court and all the dragons that met there, of his home, his love of animals. He also asked plenty of questions, both mundane and vast, about humans and human life. Little by little, he entertained you and kept you at ease and—strangely—in a way, he kept you safe the entire while. Finally, he glanced up towards the wall of the outpost cresting over the distant trees and looked back to you, lifting a hand to gently brush through your hair.

“I hope you stay safe on the rest of your journey, cute Merchant,” he said, leaning down to smile at you directly. “...and I hope you keep me in your thoughts.”

With that, he waved as innocently as a child and faded before you could reply, leaving you alone on the path with a mended cart and entirely stunned. 

⁂

With the city bustling around you, you sigh quietly and look up to the mountain range at the edge of the horizon. The sky is bright and blue, nary a cloud in sight; the air is the perfect temperature for traveling… and you are traveling light, so everything is in place for a pleasant journey aside from the usual possible hazards of being abroad. You lick your lips, glancing up at the smudges of grey-green in the blueness once more, the distant peaks only just showing over the top of the city walls. 

It has been some time since you’ve journeyed through the mountain pass. Years, even. You’ve led a relatively calm life moving your wares between the capital and surrounding villages, but now it's once again time for you to leave your roots and start somewhere new. Whether it's because you've heard rumors of new, even-more fascinating items to sell in existence beyond the mountains or simply because your heart is yearning for the road, you haven't decided. All you know is that you are called to go… and so you do, though it's lighter this time than the last trip, with only the gear you need to camp safely along the trail and the items you plan to sell on the other side.

As you take the first steps out of the city and onto the path towards the mountains, an errant thought flits through your mind; you wonder if you’ll meet him again… that strange, golden-colored being. With the way the wind is tugging at your clothes enticingly, you get the sense that anything—and especially something incredible—could happen. That in mind, you hike your pack higher on your shoulders and begin the several-day trek to the base of the mountain pass.

⁂

By incredible, you hadn’t really meant ‘earth-shattering’.

Of course, you should really know by now that things rarely work out exactly as you expect them to, for better and for worse. 

You hold onto your pack tightly, doing your best to press yourself under the rocky outcrop you’d managed to scramble to when the first roar echoed across the horizon. The very earth seems to shake with another agonizingly-loud bellow, a sound you’ve never heard in your life, so ear-splitting that you think it might have the power to kill you just from the vibrations it’s sending through your body. You squeeze your eyes shut as small pebbles and sand pour down around you. Something in the air thrums—subaudible, thunderous pulses… a chorus of them in various pitches. You pull your legs up, whimpering quietly as you continue to hide, unsure if you should be praying to the powers that be, and look up just in time to see a jaw-droppingly massive figure of gold go crashing into the forest below the path. Another rumble echoes through the ground as trees fall around the impact. You stare, unable to close your mouth in your shock as the figure is followed by several more, some pausing in the air to hover. 

Dragons.

You realize the pulse in the air is the sound of their wings, big enough to cast a full district of the capital city in shadow each. There are seven of them, including the golden one that had fallen to the ground before, each a different color and almost glowing in the sun. In fact, there’s one who seems to glow like the sun itself, judging by the halo of light around its wings. You watch as they fly around each other, mouths opening and closing as different sounds fill the air with their wingbeats. Roars, growls, noises not unlike echoing wolf yips. Explosions of colored light shoot upwards from where the golden one had fallen, crackling outwards like the sparkling explosions seen around festivals in the city. Despite your fear, you can’t help but crawl forward, looking on in awe. The closer you get, the more the roars seem to take shape in your mind, almost as if they aren’t mindless sounds at all, but a true language being thrown back and forth. 

“Someone bind him! Tokiya… Tokiya your spells!”

“I’m trying my best! I wasn’t prepared for this today.”

“Who would be, Ichi?! Just get on it!”

“I’d like to see you try harder yourself, Jinguji!”

“Stop arguing and hold him in place while Syo gets his glasses!”

The group descends as a smaller, rosy-pink dragon darts in like a falcon. Shortly after, a cloud of rainbow smoke as big as the palace rises from the impact. The roars decrease to smaller sounds, more human sounds. Shouting and arguing below the pathway. You take a hold of your pack, gingerly slinging it back over your shoulders before crawling out farther to peer over the ridge. With the rocks strewn around the path biting into your palms, you bend down, carefully looking down between the trees. You see an array of richly-dressed men scrambling around, clothes flashing and glittering in the patches of sunlight that manage to stream through the trees. Two dark-clad members of the group stand over the figure on the ground, hands raised and shifting between movements. One is writing in the air furiously with a sleek, black quill. Dripping purple coils of light follow his pen, sinking downwards like silt before fading from sight. The other, a man whose robe resembles the night sky, complete with glittering stars, uses a silver finger cuff to claw glowing, white runes into the air over the figure on the ground, who is growling and thrashing against a violently-bright, purple light barrier over him. A smaller figure in pink and white dashes left and right around the barrier, holding something delicately in his hands.

“You”—he stumbles and curses—“you have to hold him still! I can’t get through the barrier if he’s thrashing!”

The man with jet-colored hair and the black quill hisses, “What more do you want us to do? This is already the limit of Hijirkawa’s and my power!” There is a flash of light and another of the men comes into view, hair strikingly red. Seemingly without thought, he drives his foot down hard through the light barrier, immediately crying out in pain but staying firm with his foot on the bound figure’s chest.

“Ikki!” “Otoya!”

As it all unfolds before you, somehow the beings move in such a way that the crowd parts for an instant—just long enough for the man on the ground to make eye contact with you through a ripple in the barrier. 

Green… like sunlight through leaves.

You clap a hand over your mouth as the realization hits you.

It’s him.

Natsuki is distracted long enough for the smallest man to force his hands through the barrier, hissing in pain as he shoves a distantly-familiar pair of glasses over Natsuki’s eyes. Immediately, the barrier ripples and shatters apart, making a sound like cracking crystal before dissipating. Natsuki’s shout of anguish is cut off by a sharp silence; he falls limp on the forest floor. The group of men shares a collective sigh of relief, each slouching or closing their eyes as though exhausted. Shaken, you move to crawl away from the ridge but accidentally send a cascade of debris down the side. The jet-haired man looks up, eyes narrowing as he scans for the sound before widening when they land on you.

“We’re not alone,” he says sharply. The others follow his gaze, each pair of jewel-colored eyes landing on you in turn. You feel an alarming stab of dread lance through you and you recoil in fear, but not before you hear a crackle and shuffle. You scramble backward, still blinking hard in surprise and making sure you have everything you need. Unfortunately, you turn around and run right into the arms of one of the taller men—an orange-haired man clad in little more than an abundance of sheer ruffles. He catches you firmly around the waist, pack and all, and smirks, tilting his head and batting eyes bluer than a summer sky.

"Are you lost, little lamb~?" His voice is smooth and sinuous, rich and low as it sinks into your ears. Without even moving, you can tell you won’t be able to break his hold, so you simply fall silent, glancing back to where the others are slowly gathering Natsuki off the ground before looking back to the one holding you.

“W… what did you do to him? ‘Natsuki’, right? Is he okay?” You swallow uncomfortably. “Are you going to kill me?”

The man blinks several times before laughing, a pleasant, breathy chuckle. You hear a hiss from behind you and the man clothed in the night sky robe (Hijirikawa?) speaks. 

“Jinguji, is now really the time to be laughing? A human has seen us… and worse, has seen Shinomiya on the brink of—”

“Quiet,” the jet-haired man murmurs firmly. “We shouldn’t speak of this in the open. If word gets out, the Queen will want an audience… and none of us want that.” He glances among the group, taking in their equally-cowed faces and lowered eyes. His eyes return to you, narrowed suspiciously. “We should bring the human with us. They’ve seen too much and they know his name… We can wait for him to regain consciousness and then decide what to do with them after.” You open your mouth to argue that it’s insensitive to discuss your fate as if you aren’t present as well, but before you can get a word out, the man who is holding you extends a claw before your face. A small flame springs to life on the tip of his finger and it draws your attention just long enough for him to snap his fingers, sending the flame up into a shower of sparks.

You black out instantly.

⁂

The time of day is uncertain when you wake again, but judging by the heat, you assume it’s after midday. It’s almost uncanny to wake with no side effects from your sudden unconsciousness. In fact, you almost feel better than you did before you’d been so rudely knocked out. All the same, you habitually rub your eyes as you sit up to peer around you.

Sunlight filters through a canopy of leafy trees overhead; a few birds are shifting and twittering in the branches. You take a deep breath—wherever you are, you’re outside, lying on warm stone. There is a very distant sound of… music? But it’s not an instrument you’ve heard before… airy and whimsical and reverberating… not unlike the tuning forks you witnessed an alchemist use once during a visit to the palace court. There’s a quiet rustle of fabric behind you and you turn to see the smallest of the other men you’d met, perking up from a stone chair not far from the bench you’re lying on. He’s dressed in a strange, white, two-piece bodysuit with pink sheer draped over him. It’s more revealing than the fashions in the cities and villages you’ve seen, so you can’t help but feel a little flustered over it and blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

“Are you some sort of courtesan?”

He flushes pinker than his clothes—it makes the blue of his eyes pop—and growls, “What? No! Of course not!” You blink at him several times, surprised by his embarrassment, then laugh once. Twice. You decay into little giggles and sit up all the way while he huffs and crosses his arms. “Oi, I was generous when I offered to watch you and you’re havin’ the nerve to laugh at me! You got any idea who I am?” You choke down your mirth and look at him after noticing your pack carefully stowed away beside your bench. His tail is a deep, dusty pink and flecked with scales that resemble splotches of gold leaf… and it’s thrashing subtly, much like an annoyed cat. You breathe an amused sound once more and tilt your head.

“Nope. No idea. Are you someone important?”

“Imp…! Important!” He splutters, standing up abruptly. He stalks over to you and, despite the danger you’re clearly capable of falling into, you don’t feel scared. He simply narrows his eyes and blows his bangs out of his face, standing tall. “Syo Kurusu, of the Starish Weyr, where you’re currently being held.” He sniffs. “Who are you? Don’t look like a princess.” You smile with vague interest.

“‘Syo’, huh. That’s a curious name.” You stand up, still looking around as you straighten your clothes. You tell him your name and explain you’re a humble, traveling Merchant. He frowns as he listens to your concise explanation and nods when you’re finished.

“Eh… That explains why you were traveling through the valley, I guess. Shame you had to…” He wrinkles his nose, looking unsure. “...shame you had to see everything. But… You said Natsuki’s name.” You lick your lips and nod slowly.

“We’ve met before… It was a long time ago.” 

Syo snorts. “‘A long time ago’. Heh. You’re really a human.” He rubs the back of his head as his eyes bob around thoughtfully before going wide. “A… a Merchant, you said?” You frown.

“Yeah… nothing special, like I said, but—”

“You’re the one he talks about all the time! You have to be!”

You blink. “What?” Syo grabs your hand and starts pulling you towards an archway that disappears into a hall. 

“Come on, come on! I’ll take you to see him.” He turns back and gives you a surprisingly bright grin. “We can get this all cleared up without Tokiya wanting to wipe your brain or somethin’. He’s careful, but honestly? He’s a little hard on humans.” He releases your hand as you enter a high-ceilinged hallway, lined with equally high windows. The walls are carved of a cream-colored stone; it causes the sunlight to suffuse the entire structure with a richly-golden shade. Syo continues to chatter aimlessly as you pass various crossroads in the seemingly-endless… castle? Manor? You’re actually not quite sure what to call this building aside from the term your guide had used earlier, ‘weyr’. Best you can tell, it’s easily as big as one of the grand council halls from the capital and, consequently, one of the largest structures you’ve been inside. You pass a hallway and see a flash of inky tail slide along the stone, disappearing into a doorway you only can catch a glimpse of at the pace you’re traveling. 

Eventually, you realize you’re slowly ascending, whether by stairs or grand, spiraling staircases, to higher and higher levels until you—quite suddenly—step out of a stone archway and find yourself knee-deep in lush grass. You lift a hand to shield your eyes at the change in lighting and glance at Syo, who is stretching casually. A light breeze ruffles his clothing and hair and he sighs before stepping out towards a stand of trees in the middle distance. You follow, stepping carefully, unsure of the new territory. 

“So… what’s this about Natsuki mentioning me?” You ask lightly. Syo’s tail lifts and ripples as he climbs onto a log, treading down it while lifting his arms for balance. 

“Ah… A few years back, he mentioned meeting a human,” he explains. “And uh… We actually haven’t had any dealings with humans since…” He frowns. “Well, it’s been a long time. At first, we got worried. Natsuki doesn’t always… know his own strength. With how excited he gets, he could easily hurt one of you guys. You’re all so small and fragile.” You hide a laugh with a false cough, thinking it’s funny for a man so small to be talking about humanity’s stature. Syo hops down off the log towards the end, beginning to lead you to where the trees grow a little thicker. The sound of wildlife increases and the air itself seems to thrum with some unseen energy. It tingles in the base of your spine and makes you feel a little stronger, a little fuller. Syo continues, “Anyway, when he told us about how calm you’d been, we were pretty amazed. What with the way dragons used to be known, you… seemed to take us pretty in stride, heh.” 

You shrug gingerly. “I was scared, I won’t lie, but… I figure if some Fae is being kind to me and helping me out, then I have nothing to complain about. I got to see magic up close!” You take a measured, excited breath as the rush of the memory returns to you. “Not even Trickery or the typical Spellweaver stuff, like… Real magic! He just waved his hands and my cart came together again!” Syo’s ears lift slightly before he winces.

“R-real magic….” You nod. “Are all of you like that? I saw some of the magic being used earlier… the guy with the quill and the one with the finger cuff. You’re all dragons, aren’t you? Just like he is…” 

“Mm…” He agrees vaguely. “We’re all dragons, sure. Not all of us are like Natsuki, though.” He pauses before some draped branches of some species of willow tree. You lift a brow.

“Oh? What… what makes him different?”

Syo looks back at you. “Natsuki’s… the strongest magic user I’ve ever seen outside the Queen’s Court… and maybe even then.” You can’t say that anything goes against your expectations at this point, considering you’ve been existing in a vacuum of spectacle for who knows how many hours now, yet still you feel your heart drop. Syo pulls the curtain of branches aside and steps through and you follow dazedly. Light blinds you for a moment and you lift your hands while your eyes adjust once more. When you lower them again, your jaw drops.

The mountain rolls before you for a great distance. You’re amazed that despite being this high, there’s no snow to be seen. Instead, there’s an expanse of the same grass you’ve been wading through, along with splashes of wildflowers and trees, and—most eye-catching of all—a lake. It’s so clear and gentle that the surface is almost mirror-like, reflecting the slowly-reddening afternoon sky, peachy clouds, and the brilliant sun. The wind ruffles it every few moments, causing the trail of the sunlight to shatter into glittering patches. Still, it’s not the environment that makes your breath catch.

It’s the massive, golden, feathery dragon sleeping on the bank of the lake.

You blink rapidly several times, going completely still as you drink in his looks. A great mane of feathers begins at the crown of his head and hugs his jaw like a lion, descending down his spine in a small trail before bursting into another crest of feathers at both the base and the end of his tail. A strange contraption extends from his ears on either side: filigree bars that hold glass disks to his eyes, a dragon’s replacement for human spectacles. 

He breathes in deeply, eyes closed, and exhales again, causing the grass in front of him to flatten. 

The comical interruption of your admiration makes you laugh, drawing Syo’s gaze. 

“C’mon. Looks like he’s still sleeping, but… He should be waking up again soon.” He trudges down the hill towards the bank and you all but stumble after him, eyes still trained on Natsuki… or… you assume it’s Natsuki.

“He… he’s as big as the town square!” You say breathlessly.

“Mm? Oh. Yeah, Natsuki’s also one of the largest of us.”

“I thought he was… still in his… human form?” Your voice falls to an awed whisper as you finally reach him and marvel at the jeweled, almost lacquered look of his scales. His chest rumbles with the sound of his breaths, louder than the quiet tide of the lake. Syo smacks a clawed hand on the side of Natsuki’s neck and hums.

“He kinda got put through a lot earlier; that binding spell by Masato and Tokiya was no joke. After somethin’ like that, access to the other plane can get pretty volatile, so we brought him out here in case he shifted back and forth… and so he could absorb some of the properties of the lake.” He points to the small waves that are washing up on the pale sand and you notice small whorls of colorful iridescence in the water that seem to be drawn to the bits of Natsuki that are partially submerged. His scales glitter visibly as the whorls sink into him with every breath. Suddenly, the sound of an explosion rocks the air and Syo’s eyes widen as he turns back towards the direction of the weyr and curses under his breath. He waves at you with both hands in a frenzied manner and lurches into a run.

“I forgot I had something waiting for me—messy—uh…! Stay right here and try not to startle him if he wakes up!” He bursts his way back up the hill, calling over his shoulder to not tell Tokiya you were left alone. When he’s gone, you turn back to Natsuki, whose eyes are still heavily shut. Up close, you can see that the scales over his eyelids are so fine they almost appear velvety. The quills of his feathers are as big around as your lower legs. Before you’re even aware, you’re resting a hand on his cheek that’s as tall as you are at least. 

His scales are warm… 

You drag your hand over them gently, feeling the strange, stone-like texture with unimpeded inquisitiveness, flexing your fingers against the curves and ridges as you take steps towards his snout to watch his breaths bend the grass. One of his paws is beneath his chin, massive fingers and claws extending outward and digging into the sand. Seeing him this way, you can hardly believe such a behemoth could fit into the man that’s only a few inches over average height… and such a gentle one at that, or so you’ve experienced. After staring wondrously at the grass in front of him, you make your way back, studying the size of his eye sockets, the ways the folds of skin around his ears grow thin and smooth for flexibility, the places where his feathers are joined to his body. All at once, you’re overwhelmed by how cute he seems to be despite his size and the dangerous glimpse you saw earlier that you’ve yet to understand. You can’t resist burying yourself in the side of his mane, suppressing an excited squee as you ruffle your limbs and face in the surprisingly soft feathers. You’re so enraptured, you don’t notice his breathing come to a stop before resuming at a more subdued pace. You’re about to pull away when you freeze up as his entire body shudders and you hear, no… think, no….

“Don’t stop,” a polite, gentle voice appears in your mind and surrounds you. “I’ve never felt anything so soothing....!” You lift your head from the feathers and lean back enough to peer at the eye closest to you, which is open at last and vivid green and very much looking back at you as best it can. He blinks slowly and you see the scales of his muzzle shift into what can only be a smile. His lower eyelid bunches up. “I think this is what dragons used to experience from princesses. Waah, what a wonderful feeling! I could keep you like this forever!” You jolt away from him in surprise and his eye follows you as you point up at him.

“Y-you’re awake! ...I hope I didn’t disturb you…” Your words die in your throat as he lifts his head, impossibly high; extends his arms out, impossibly long; and yawns. He shakes his mane loose and then lowers his head onto his paws again. His entire body ripples as he shifts to face you better. After a few moments, his eyes clear, then bloom with a warm expression that makes you feel more adored than you’ve ever experienced in your life.

“Oh? It’s you,” he says contentedly. “You’re as cute as you were when we met before. It’s so good to see you again; it’s like my heart has filled up with cherry blossom petals!” He extends his head forward to nose you and you think he might knock you over, but you’re surprised to feel that he’s as gentle as a building-sized creature can be and nudges you with the same force a hungry, curious horse might. “To think we’d meet again with you adoring me in such a way~ Please… please continue while you tell me how you found me here!” You glance back at the direction Syo had departed unsurely. Should you really give in so easily? You get the sense you aren’t meant to be interacting with him alone after whatever it was that had happened earlier. All the same, his eyes are massive as he stares down at you, and still full of that adoring look that’s making your legs weak. 

You cave.

When you rest your hands on his nose and stroke him gently, his eyes fall closed. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Natsuki,” you murmur, the warmth in your voice undisguised. “You stayed in my thoughts.” At your words, he releases a sharp chuff like a big cat and a cloud of glittering, golden mist pours from him, surrounding you in an instant. Immediately, your senses alight with tastes, smells, visions, sensations. Sweet, lemon cream bursting on your tongue from a festival pie. Dazy, midday sun warming your skin after walking in the shade for some time. Sinking into freshly laundered bedding after a long day at work. 

Your body melts under the wash of feeling and Natsuki catches you with one scaly finger. You hug the digit instinctively and he carefully drags you to his other hand, placing you in his palm. You shudder breathlessly and press a hand to your forehead.

“W-what…” You take a deep breath as the sensation clears away. “What was that?” Natsuki shifts his head to the side and hums lowly. 

"S-sorry… When you mentioned that you've been thinking of me, I couldn't help but suddenly feel… as if I really could spend forever with you." You blush immediately and gawk at him, eyes wide.

"What, uh… what exactly do you mean by spending it with me…?"

"You know~" Natsuki singsongs and traces the end of his thumb claw up your legs before lifting you and pressing you to his cheek. You stutter quietly, scrabbling at his paw in surprise and the rush in your system from the unfamiliar feeling of being lifted so high, so easily. As you sink against his scales, you hear a purr-like sound thunder up from his chest. "Seeing each other every day! And watching the stars together… Oh!" He smiles a toothy, dragon smile. "I have to take you to meet all my friends! Especially Syo-chan. He's so cute and small~ I'll be able to invite you both to stay on my hoard while we watch the stars!"

As he prattles on with increasingly obscure and fanciful suggestions, you can't help but wonder if he really told you the whole truth about the mist, or if he really meant his suggestion of staying together so innocently, after all… but you’re helpless against the warmth he exudes. Even beyond your surprise, you feel a swelling in your chest and a sweet, peaceful buzz along your spine. It’s almost as if you’re feeling the same sensation he described as you were petting him before.

All in all, you can’t really complain.

⁂

The pair of you continue catching up as the sun sets. At times, you wonder whether Syo or one of the others will come back to check on you, but as soon as the thoughts spring up, they’re ebbed away again by Natsuki’s genial disposition. He asks you questions about how your journey ended, what you’ve been doing in the time since he last saw you. It’s strange; despite years having passed since you met him, he talks about it like it’s only been a fortnight or so. As your conversation passes back and forth easily, the sun dips to the edge of the mountain, lilac twilight overtakes the sky, and the lake and bathes you both in purple. After a while, Natsuki’s eyes widen as he notices the time.

“It seems to be getting late…” He hums in disappointment. “I was enjoying seeing all the birds today… but!” He turns his head to peer at you with visible glee. “Do you know what this means? We can go to my hoard and you can see the stars. Oh…” He pauses as he hears your stomach grumble faintly. “Perhaps we should find you something to eat first…. All right!” You’re about to ask what he plans to do, but a cloud of colorful smoke pours off of him, obscuring him from vision even though you can still feel his grip on you. You cough and splutter, narrowing your eyes and waving your hands.

“N-Natsuki?!”

It’s not long before the air clears again and you—once more—feel your face warm as you realize it’s no longer a dragon before you but the man you met first. Natsuki beams at you as he keeps you tightly-held around your waist, his eyes scrunching up cutely. 

“Are you surprised? I look very different like this, don’t I? But look!” He squeezes you in an iron-gripped hug. “It’s so much better for being close, isn’t it? Now I can hold you with all of me!” Your heart skips several beats at his words and you splutter, half bewildered and half smiling. You pat his back where you can reach and agree with him that it’s better if only to encourage him to loosen his hold just a bit. He does so, but your settling exhale is short-lived as he merely dips down to scoop you into a princess carry. Before you can even respond, he presses his forehead to yours, laughing quietly, and waves his hand.

You appear in an entirely new environment: a large dining hall, lined with beautiful sconces and a large fire pit in the center. There is a bustling energy around you and it takes only a moment to notice the group of the dragons you’d briefly met before are seated or loitering around you. Natsuki adjusts his grip on you comfortably and sings.

“Hi~!”

Chaos erupts. Heads snap in your direction. Syo, as soon as you see him, splutters in his drink as the jet-haired man’s eyes flash at him.

“You left them alone? After earlier?”

The man with the starry robe passes by and lightly brings the blade of his hand down on Syo’s head, frowning. “We told you to watch over the human until further instruction. Kurusu.” Syo grabs the top of his head with a pained wince.

“O-oi, Hijirikawa…! One of my circles erupted. It was an emergency!”

“And having a human in our midst isn’t?”

The orange-haired man, sitting at the end of the dining table, laughs into a hand, swirling a tall glass in his other. “Typical Shorty,” he mutters. Syo stands up, slamming his hands on the table as he glares down the length of it.

“Say that again? I’ve told you I’m not—” “Syo~!” Natsuki says brightly, approaching the table with you still bundled into his arms. The others each stiffen as you’re brought closer, as if you might be more dangerous than them. However, Natsuki only sits down on the bench beside Syo. “Will you watch the stars with us later?”

Syo looks nervous. “I… I dunno about tha—”

“Wait, wait.” The jet-haired man breathes irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Natsuki." He looks up at Natsuki flatly.

"Mm? Tokiya?"

Tokiya (you assume?) blinks slowly, his sleek, black tail lashing subtly against the floor. "We need to know how this human knows your name." Natsuki’s face lights up in excitement before Hijirikawa sets a gentle, elegant hand on his shoulder.

“Shinomiya. It’d be best if we discussed away from the influence they could be having on you,” he says gently. You look up at him and his violet eyes slide your way, narrow but not necessarily judgemental. Under such a gaze, you suddenly feel like a child, so you say nothing as Natsuki is led away by the stoic pair.  Watching them sit in a huddle together at the far end of the table, Syo sighs and gestures for you to sit beside him and—having no other options—you sink down beside him. 

“Natsuki brought you here to eat, right?”

You blink and smile as good-naturedly as you can, considering the situation. “That’s pretty perceptive.” Syo turns pink and shrugs awkwardly as he takes a piece of white chalk from his clothes and begins to draw some symbols on the tabletop.

“I’ve read a lot about humans. Plus, Natsuki knows more than he lets on. He wants to take care of you, too, I bet.”

You hum, watching him with tired interest. “Actually… can I ask you something about that? I… I still don’t know what’s going on here, really, but he’s said some things and…” Syo lifts a brow, pausing his scribbling for a moment.

“What kind of things? Natsuki… eh, he talks a lot. He can be kinda… head in the clouds.” 

“W-well…” You feel sheepish about it now, but your curiosity wins out in the end. “He says things that… could be taken romantically, among humans… but then he talks about me like I’m… a pet?” Syo snorts and slaps the table over the symbols he’s drawn and you almost fall off your seat when an array of food appears in their place. He waves at it all vaguely and tucks his chalk away again.

“Eat up. Anyway, that’s kinda how he is, so it’s hard to say. He’s never courted anyone before, I can tell ya that.”

“O-oh…?” You blurt while gingerly assembling a plate from several of the dishes. It all looks fairly normal, which you’re a bit intrigued by. Where did it come from? Or did he bring it into the world by magic alone…? You glance at him as you begin to pick at your food. “Wh… why’s that, you think?” Suddenly, Syo looks nervous and coughs as he hurriedly assembles his own plate. 

“It’s… kind of a long story….” 

You look back to where Natsuki is flanked on either side by Tokiya and Hijirikawa. He keeps glancing between them as they speak with rigid motions, looking a bit like a scolded dog. Your eyes meet and his look immediately softens, lower eyelids bunching up with a faint, reassuring smile. Even his tail reacts, lifting from the stone floor and rippling its feathers hopefully. You bite your lip to suppress a smile and wave. His eyes scrunch up the rest of the way and he lifts both hands to wave cheerfully before Tokiya snaps his fingers in front of Natsuki’s face… and dread shoots through to your stomach. 

It’s just the smallest instant, but Natsuki’s eyes flash with something… an energy you’ve certainly never seen from a human before. It looks cold and distant and predatory… like seeing lightning crackle beyond storm clouds. You swallow heavily, but then it’s all gone the next second, replaced by Natsuki’s usual innocent look. You turn back to Syo.

“I think I’d like to hear it…” You mumble. However, when Syo opens his mouth, the orange-haired man slumps onto the bench across from you with a melodic sigh. You and Syo both look at him questioningly and he shrugs with his hands, closing his eyes lazily.

“Such a cold reception, you’ll hurt my feelings. I just wanted to introduce myself to our dear, new companion.” He shoots you a suave wink and extends a hand to you. “Ren Jinguji. The Clinohumite of the Starish Weyr.” You take his hand and he leans across the table to ghost his lips over your knuckles. You shiver and he allows you to pull your hand back. Syo rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, like that’s really all it is….”

Ren’s eyes narrow, distantly cool. “Perhaps I also want to make sure you aren’t spilling secrets, Shorty. I, for one, don’t care who knows what about us, but I don’t want to spend an evening getting lectured by Hijirkawa because you’re too loose with a pretty face.” 

“‘Shor’—!” Syo splutters. “Listen, I’m just trying to make things easier for us. It’s not like we officially decided to lock ourselves up here, like those guys.” He nods in your direction. “What if they can help?”

“What’s a human going to do?” Ren glances at you. “Uh… no offense.” You hunch your shoulders noncommittally, wishing you could just get some answers. Unfortunately, Syo can only pout at Ren’s question and finally lowers his head without saying anything. Ren hums absently and nods to you. “Enjoy your stay… little lamb.” He gives a vague wave and slips off the bench, slinking away back to where he’d been sitting before. 

It’s not long after that Natsuki is released from his questioning and happily bounds over to you and you do your best to hide your growing trepidation while he chatters happily, seemingly unphased by whatever had occurred before.

⁂

When you’re done eating, you look up to see Natsuki gazing at you fondly, his chin resting in his hands in a childish way. He looks cute with the little, curling tendrils of his hair pressing up against his cheeks and between his fingers like that. His eyes glitter and you find your heart rate speeding up before you look away, feeling a rare case of shyness overtake you. 

“Y… you’re staring…”

Natsuki hums and nods brightly. “We get visitors very rarely! It’s exciting to see how carefully you eat the food… and how adorably your face lights up when something tastes good.” He peers at you through contentedly-slivered eyes. “It makes me want to cook so many things for you and see all your expressions.” You meet his gaze, more boldly than you have all day, almost as if to challenge him to continue. He doesn’t look away, only stares at you equally unabashedly, his eyes almost hypnotic in the depth of their color and the unquestionable happiness he feels from making eye contact with you.

You’re only able to hold his gaze for a minute.

“S-so…” You cough after breaking his gaze and look at the table. “You mentioned watching the stars?” He stands so abruptly that you squeak and lean back, bumping into Syo and rousing him from his post-meal drowsy state. Natsuki offers you his hand in a surprisingly elegant gesture. 

“Please join me, won’t you?” He tilts his head and smiles at you. “Finally, I’ll be able to share my most valuable treasure with you.” Syo snorts from behind you and then crosses his arms and looks up at Natsuki, raising an eyebrow. 

“Are you really sure you want me uh… intruding on your….” Natsuki steps around you to bend down, throwing an arm across both Syo’s and your shoulders and humming a pleased, high-pitched sound.

“Of course~! I want to spend the night with my favorite people!”

“F-favorite?” You blink in surprise. “But… this is only our second time meeting…” Natsuki hums with a smile, pulling back to clap his hands together and fix you in an earnest look. 

“Mm~! And I can already tell we’re going to be great friends!” Saying this, he slips his arms under your knees and along your back before you can protest and gathers you to his chest, turning to grin over his shoulder. “Coming, Syo~?” Syo grumbles but gets to his feet anyway, scratching at the back of his head.

“Yeah... Fine, fine.”

Natsuki takes you through winding halls, just like you’d journeyed with Syo earlier in the day, with Syo following close behind. For a few minutes, you wonder if he’s going to take you back out to the area above the weyr, but then you recall he’d mentioned showing you his hoard and if there’s one thing you know about dragons, it’s that their hoards are always hidden away safely. As you might expect, he takes a sudden turn down a hallway and you arrive at a massive, circular door that’s painted a cheery yellow. You can’t help but smile when you see it’s inlaid with a pattern of bronze vines and ducklings. Natsuki adjusts his hold so you’re safely cradled in one arm for a moment while he waves his hand and the doors creak open. Over his shoulder, you see Syo frown for a moment, but then Natsuki is hugging you again, giggling and dancing you around in a circle as the dim hall suddenly changes to a bonfire-bright glow. You look around… and your jaw drops in amazement.

His room, lit by a sea of yellow, white and pale-green floating lanterns,  is… more than anything you could imagine. 

The ceilings are tall enough to hold him in his dragon form and dusted with varying shades of moss that follow the curved, etched arches and frieze-like carvings along the ceiling. The far walls are barely walls at all, mostly just open archways out to the mountain. You see the shapes of deer and other twilight creatures flitting about the edge of the room without fear, grazing on the grass that seems to be encroaching on the room proper. However, what’s most amazing to you is the alarmingly vast pile of plush toys, pillows, cushions, and blankets in every size, shape, and color filling the room. Your breath gets lost on the gossamer, lacy curtains that art strung up in seemingly random places, yet it all draws your eye to the deeply-colored ceiling itself, so dark you can’t tell if it’s pure black or not.

“Welcome to my room…!” Natsuki stops spinning and looks at you with a bright smile. “It’s full of my favorite things, so of course I had to bring you here.” You splutter quietly, unsure how to respond, but Natsuki is as carefree as ever and continues walking until he finds a good place atop the pile of plushies. He sets you down, waiting for you to get your footing. “Please get comfortable! I’ll make the stars appear!” You turn to Syo, who has crawled up on his own on your other side and is already plopping down in the arms of some giant, pink, round plush. He yawns cutely, his tail curling over his feet, and you find you don’t want to disturb him with more questions, so instead, you settle down yourself. Natsuki waves his hands over the room like a conductor of a grand orchestra and you watch as the curtains all come undone, lowering into sheets of fine fabric. The lights dim and, near the true center of the room, a strange table begins to shift. A panel opens in the top and a bronze globe slowly emerges from the center. When the room is properly dark, Natsuki lies down beside you, close enough that the ends of his hair brush yours. He sighs contentedly and waves one final finger upwards.

You gasp as the previously-inky ceiling comes to life with a sea of stars, constellations, galaxies… It’s as if you can see the real sky clearer than you’ve ever seen it. You glance down to the globe, seeing it glitter as it turns in its frame. “Star projector,” Syo mumbles from beside you. “One of Natsuki’s greatest accomplishments as a magic user; it can match the sky from anywhere in the world with a wave of his hand.” You’re rendered speechless, only able to stare up in true amazement. 

Time passes in relative silence aside from your gasps of awe when a handful of shooting stars streak across the display. Natsuki remains still beside you, his hands folded over his stomach and tail tip flicking occasionally. You glance his way every now and again, getting caught on the way the stars reflect in his eyes. Eventually, Syo falls asleep, leaving your spirit to flutter shyly at the thought of being alone with Natsuki so close. After a while, Natsuki draws your attention with a hum. 

“May I confess something?”

Your heart skips a beat. “S… sure.”

His lips curl faintly, but his eyes remain on the stars overhead. “Perhaps… it isn’t unfair for the others to worry about my intentions towards you.” Your mouth goes dry at such an ominously-worded statement.

“W-what?”

His eyes slide to meet yours, his expression a strange mix of gentle… and almost concerned. “I’ve never courted, before, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t yearned for it every now and then. The idea of… someone who I love beyond all else… and who loves me. It’d be…” He shifts bashfully. “It’d be lovely to have someone to experience this with… who doesn’t just humor me. W-who accepts all of me.” You’re still debating what to say when his eyes flash green in the darkness and he looks at you intently. “Could… Do you perhaps think… that person could be you?”

Your heart stutters and you lick your lips, hands flexing nervously at your sides. His stare bores into you.

“I’m not entirely sure why, but when I’m with you… I feel like I don’t have to worry anymore.”

“Natsuki….” You want to tell him that it’s way too soon to ask a question like that, that you can’t possibly know what you can be for him since it’s only your second meeting, and sure it’s been incredible, but you’re just a human and this is a very different world than you could ever dream up and you’re still not entirely certain what’s happening… 

But you are interested. In fact, you’ve never felt so right about hearing such a thing from someone before. However, before you can give him a proper answer, Syo yawns again, shifting around in his sleep to curl around the plush he’s snuggling, and Natsuki loses focus entirely. His face lights up at the sight of his smaller friend and he all but pounces across you to catch Syo around the waist, squeeing about how adorable the smaller dragon is. Syo wakes up in a frenzy and you watch them wrestle, half amused and half still flustered by the conversation that had been cut short.

It takes you too long to see Natsuki’s glasses slip, bumped by Syo’s flailing hands, and fall into the pile of Natsuki’s hoard.

All at once, the very earth seems to shatter apart. The temperature of the room drops as an explosion of electric yellow light fills the room. You hear Syo shout, voice still raw from sleep, and you’re blown back, down the pile of plushies. The air seems to crackle with a pulse of energy as a cry rises above the noise. You hear the stone floor cracking and you scrabble frantically for a handhold in the pile until you manage to hook your hands onto something and try to look up.

Natsuki has collapsed to his knees and is clutching his head as he writhes and convulses in place, his eyes glowing green and his scales rippling with light as an aura forms around him, pulsing out and in with a dull, audible thud. You watch as light flickers through his clothes, as the air seems to split them into frayed holes at the seams and thinner parts. The shout that seems so unending pours from him in anguished streaks, so deafening you can scarcely hear your own thoughts. You think you yell his name, but you can’t be certain. Over the cacophony, you hear Syo shouting for help and names, some familiar and some unfamiliar. Mixed into his words, you hear strains of him calling for you, asking if you’re all right, but all you can think of is to try to help. You think if you can get ahold of his glasses, you might be able to help, to put a stop to this like you saw the others do earlier. If you can only get close…

You begin the arduous process of climbing, dragging yourself up by a fearful, iron grip even as the aura surrounding Natsuki seems to fight you every inch. The air claws at your clothes and limbs; something beyond the perception of sight shoves at you as if to push you away from him. Your eyes water from the pain of the blinding light, from the horrific sound of his screams. You’re almost relieved when you crest the top of the pile, believing you’re making true progress, when Natsuki’s cries form words.

“No! Leave them alone!”

You look at him, attempting to see through the light. Does he mean for you to ignore the glasses? His body shakes, spine contorting as his face twists.

“Don’t hurt them!”

You watch, horrified, as his head creaks in your direction, eyes overtaken by the green glow.

“Why shouldn’t I?” A voice that is not entirely his own leaves his lips. His face shifts back to terror.

“Please! Please, I want to keep them!”

You shiver, burrowing into the blankets in fear.

And then, he smiles.

“Keep them?” It thunders in your head… and everything goes dark.

⁂

You open your eyes to see you’re in a glen at night; the moon is bright and full and low-hanging over the horizon, and all is quiet. There’s a small breeze, warm like a caress, but your heart is still pounding in your chest from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“Keep them?” The low voice repeats quietly… and you look up to see Natsuki. Except it isn’t Natsuki… or at least, it doesn’t look just like him. The eyes are too narrow, the hair too wild, the expression too cold. Not-Natsuki tilts his head, glaring at you in a coolly appraising manner. 

“Who are you?” You ask. Nothing more than a faint breath.

“Satsuki,” he replies flatly and takes a step toward you. You try to move, but you’re frozen in place like the worst kind of nightmare. He stands in front of you, only inches away, and then prowls around you in a circle like a pacing wolf. “And who are you? Why does Natsuki want to keep you so badly?”

“I-I don’t know.” You lower your eyes, feeling your knees tremble. “We’ve only met a second time today, but it’s… it’s been wonderful. I’m not sure how he feels but… I feel like we could be good if… if we stayed together.” Satsuki pauses and fixes you in a predatory, inhuman stare.

“Oh?” He chuckles bitterly. “Sure, sure. Humans fall for dragons easy.” He growls softly. “Maybe dragons fall for humans easy, too….” Suddenly, his hand flashes out, sinking into your hair and pulling your head up to look at him harshly. His claws prickle your scalp and your eyes open just to terrified slivers; you’re afraid to resist at all. Satsuki scoffs. “Yeah, you’re his type. Even looking at you, I…” He catches himself and flinches. “...I definitely can sense something beyond your humanity…” You frown weakly.

“Like what?”

He pulls his hand away and shakes it like he’s just brushed it through a campfire. He hisses under his breath. “Like… like you’re just this… void. A magic sinkhole. A drain in the magic plane.” He curses under his breath, remarking about a stinging sensation. Suddenly, his eyes go wide and he looks at you again. “A conduit.” He laughs, although it’s a sharp sound, more resembling an exclamation of surprise. “You’re a conduit.”

“W… what’s a conduit?”

He grins wolfishly. “You’re our ticket out of this pit. Mine and Nat’s. That band of unimpressive idiots callin’ themselves Starish. With you…” He trails off and reaches for you again, poking your forehead roughly. “We can finally seal all the leaks in Natsuki… keep him from hurting anymore. From breaking things.”

You ask him to explain… and he does.

He explains that Natsuki didn’t hatch quite right. Something scarred the egg before he could and left scores in it that weakened the innate ropes to the magic plane all dragons are born with. When Natsuki was born, he was born unable to control how much magic could flow through him at a time, resulting in a destructive force… and the creation of Satsuki, who was Natsuki’s subconscious’ last-ditch effort in protecting those around him. 

It makes your heart throb with sympathy.

He was ripped from his parents, contained only by the Queen’s Court until a proper group of dragons could form that would be strong enough to keep Satsuki from taking over entirely each time Natsuki’s only protection—a simple, crystal barrier in the form of glasses—managed to fail… and so they had lived for hundreds of years, bound eternally to Natsuki’s care… and Natsuki to them. 

Naturally, resentment bred well in such an environment, which only served to strengthen Satsuki’s anger… and thus, the destruction each time he was given control. 

When Satsuki finishes explaining, you ask him what being a conduit means.

“A human that absorbs magic,” he grouses. “At a heavy rate. Most of the great Spellweavers through history have been conduits, though… I dunno if they knew it themselves.” You fall silent, head rushing with the overwhelming revelation of knowledge. He looks away, seemingly calmer than he was at the start. “Y’know… If you stay with Natsuki like he wants… you could probably learn a lot. If… that were somethin’ you were interested in. I know it’d mean he’d be able to leave, since you’d be able to keep him in check. Probably… would go a long way to makin’ him happy.”

You stare at him, watching as all the harsh lines of him soothe away the longer he stands near you. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“Just a suggestion.”

You blink and then the glen is gone. You’re lying on top of Natsuki’s hoard in complete silence, the only thing lighting the room being the moon filtering in through the curtains. You shift around unsurely, expecting your body to hurt, but you… Oddly, you feel better than before. You feel like you’ve had a week of good rest, like you’re body is more fit than it’s been in years. You rub your eyes and look around, heart thudding in shock when you see Natsuki, face down in the cushions a few feet away from you. In the distance, Syo’s voice is echoing through the weyr, still calling for help. You crawl to Natsuki and do your best to turn him over, cautiously, as though the energy might erupt again at any moment.

He groans quietly, face wrinkling up and smoothing again as he comes to and opens his eyes blearily. Belatedly, you realize his glasses are still nowhere to be found, but… but this is Natsuki, right? His draconic pupils widen, then narrow, then widen again before adjusting to the light and focusing on your face. Immediately, his expression melts into adoring relief. 

“You’re okay,” he breathes, a large hand lifting to weakly cup your face. “Thank goodness… thank goodness he left you alive.” You smile, leaning into his touch.

“Yes… he was actually… very helpful.”

Natsuki looks distant for a few moments before his eyes clear, flickering with realization. You’re not sure how, but, looking at him, you’re able to understand that… he knows. He knows everything Satsuki told you while you were inside the magic plane. He breathes a fragile sort of exhale as he pulls you down against his chest, holding you with a far more insistent, mature care than he has all day.

“...will you stay?” He asks. You find your hands settling against his chest, gently fisting into the fabric there. 

“I want to,” you admit. “But it’s so strange I… I’m not certain how our future would look together. I’m just a Merchant… and even though I feel more at home here than I ever have, in just a single day….” You tilt your head side to side, contemplating. “I always find myself wanting to travel… but… if what Satsuki said is true…” You lift your eyes to look at him, feeling your face heat. “Then… you could join me. We could go together.” Natsuki looks uncertain at first, brows knitting as he considers your words before his face slowly blooms into joy. He leans forward to nuzzle his forehead with yours; you chuckle at the awkward, gentle bump of his horns on your head. 

“Traveling with you… I think I could enjoy that forever.” 

You giggle softly and pat his hair. “Gives us plenty of time to get to know each other, hm? Who knows what can happen. It really might turn into forever.” Natsuki’s cheeks tinge pink and a puff of yellow mist streams out of his lips, sending you both into a very flustered fit that bleeds into pleased giggles.

Starish finds you like that minutes later, still hugging and excitedly chatting about all that the future can hold with a shared hope, shared anticipation in your hearts.

You get the feeling that everything is going to be okay, as long as you have him.

End

#uta no prince sama #utapri #dragon au #Shinomiya Natsuki #Shinomiya Satsuki #dragon!natsuki #dragon!satsuki #dragon!starish

[nightglider124]

Dickkory Week: Day 2

I liked writing this one... any excuse to write about pregnant Kory? I take. 

This hasn’t been proofread properly yet, as is always the story with ship week entries lmao.

Hope ya like it.

__________________________________

In-Laws

The downpour of rain continued to fall from the dark sky above, pelting everything in its path within the city.

Water flooded the streets, cars continuing to speed through and drench the sidewalks even more. 

Few people were around, besides the usual thugs and homeless that were huddled around low embered trash cans down quiet alleyways. 

Drops of water smeared across the glass of the car window and Kory sighed, peering out of it.

“I do not know if I will ever get used to Gotham…”

Dick smiled from his position in the driver’s seat and shifted his grip on the steering wheel so he could reach down and lace their fingers together.

“I don’t even think I am used to Gotham, babe.” He murmured, keeping his eyes on the road on account of the hazardous weather.

“I just wish it had more color… nicer streets and perhaps… not so much rain…” Kory told him, quietly.

“That’d be the day.” He paused and looked over at her, “How are you feeling tonight?”

“Nervous… I always am when we go and visit Bruce.”

He returned his focus to the road, “Why?”

Kory pulled a face that she knew Dick could see in his peripheral, “Even after all these years… I still do not think he is too… keen on me.”

“Babe, he loves you. You’re part of his family.”

She looked at the silver engagement and wedding rings that were wrapped around the same finger of her left hand.

“Not by his choice…” 

“Hey… c’mon, he was quite happy when I told him I was marrying you. And he didn’t object when given the chance at the wedding, did he?”

Kory took a deep breath, “No… apologies. I love Bruce like family… I just… worry that he does not.”

Dick smiled and turned his head towards her, “I know. It’s hard. He isn’t the most affectionate guy but he cares in his own ways.”

Nodding, Kory tried to shake the bout of insecurities she felt in her heart but not before she felt a bump and she groaned.

“Something up?”

She inclined her head and tiredly smirked, “I think she is also telling me to be calm…”

Dick grinned and as they pulled up to Wayne Manor, he reached over and placed a palm on his wife’s swollen belly, waiting to feel his baby kick from inside.

He received two bumps almost immediately which only brightened the smile he wore, “Hey little one… should mama listen to daddy when he says she is loved by grandpa Bruce? Gimme one kick for yes.”

Dick chuckled when a kick was given and he eyed his wife, “Well, the princess has spoken.”

Kory rolled her eyes but smiled, placing her hand over his atop of her stomach. Dick quickly reached through the window at the gates and buzzed for Alfred to let them pass which he did so straight away.

Once they pulled into the large driveway, Dick parked the car up and leaned down to kiss her stomach.

He pulled back and brushed his nose against Kory’s, “Ready to do this?”

With a tight smile, Kory nodded.

Dick got out first, using his coat as a shield from the onslaught of rain before he hurried over to Kory’s side and opened the door up, giving her a helping hand to get out.

Using his coat still, he covered them both as the couple ran to the front doors, already open with Alfred waiting to greet them.

“Thanks Al.” Dick huffed as they got into the foyer, pulling the coat away from their heads and shaking it down before hanging it by the door.

“I do believe the rain will not be letting up this evening.” Alfred sighed, eyeing the window with distaste,

“Such is life when it’s Gotham.” Dick shrugged, leaning in to give Alfred a brief yet firm hug, “He around yet or is he out?”

Alfred patted Dick’s back once before he replied, “He called to say he is on his way back now.”

With that, Alfred turned and smiled at Kory who was excitedly waiting to force another hug on the older gentleman, just as she always did.

“Miss Kory, you are looking radiant.” He told her as she threw her arms around his shoulders,

She snorted, “I do not feel radiant. I feel most like a whale. But, thank you, Alfred. It is lovely to see you again.”

Alfred patted her back and eyed her protruding belly briefly when pulling away, but Dick caught it and smirked.

“Guess what?” Dick paused, “Baby has started kicking since we last saw you. Want to feel?”

The sparkle in his eyes told Dick the truth that Alfred would never voice on account of being a ‘butler’ in his own eyes, despite Dick and Bruce thinking of him like blood, “Oh no… that is-”

Kory dramatically rolled her eyes and stepped forward, grasping Alfred’s hand and placing it on her belly.

They waited in silence for a few seconds before Alfred received a tiny bump against his hand; one that turned his expression to one of utter astonishment.

“Extraordinary… truly extraordinary.” Alfred gushed, before he stood back and took Kory’s coat from her to hang up beside her husband’s.

“Touching a pregnant stomach is deemed a form of luck on my home world; you need not be so hesitant, Alfred.” Kory explained, a grin toying at her lips,

He nodded, his smile one that could only be described as bashful. Dick laughed aloud before the two were led into the den by Alfred as they waited for Bruce to arrive home.

The billionaire by day, vigilante by night materialized from down in the cave after a short while, having swapped the cowl and cape for a smart shirt and pressed dress pants. 

He offered them one of his dazzling smiles that always reminded Kory of Dick’s boyish grin and she wondered if he’d picked it up from his adoptive father back in the early days of his youth.

Dick smirked and got up from the leather sofa they had been lounging on first, shaking Bruce’s hand and giving him an awkward half hug which ended with a casual slap on the back.

“Dick, glad you two could stay over this weekend. I wasn’t sure if you would when I saw the storm tonight.” Bruce said, releasing his son from his hold,

“We were already nearly here when it started so it was smarter to just come.” Dick told him, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

Kory slowly got to her feet, one hand supporting her belly as she rose from the sofa. She smoothed down the creases of her woolen, long sleeved bodycon dress; it was a forest green color that worked well to really emphasize her baby bump.

Bruce’s gaze fell on her and she could have sworn his expression softened as he crossed the space to greet her as well.

“Bruce… it is good to see you again.” She states, smiling brightly at her father in law.

He nodded and collected her into a polite hug, giving her cheek a kiss for good measure. 

“Hello Kory…” Bruce stepped back and his eyes fell to her belly, “How are you feeling lately?”

She lifted her shoulders, “Uh… she certainly keeps me alert…”

“Oh?”

Kory sighed and nodded, “Kicking. Just always kicking recently and I feel the need to blame Dick for that.”

Bruce smirked and the two of them ignored Dick’s weak protest from where he stood by Alfred now.

His eyes trailed upwards until he met her emerald orbs, “May I?”

Kory beamed at him, her heart warm at the interest he had been taking in connecting with his granddaughter.

“Of course… you need not ask.” She giggled, bringing the hand at his side to press against her tummy,

“Well… some women on Earth don’t like people always feeling their bellies.”

Kory smirked, “True but… I am not from Earth. Tamaranians deem it lucky every time someone touches their stomachs.”

Bruce nodded his head in intrigue, waiting patiently for hers and Dick’s child to give him some kind of response. And, after a minute or so, he was rewarded with a powerful bump directly under the palm of his hand.

His blue eyes widened and he slowly smiled from ear to ear, the true wonder of new life exciting all of them. 

“She is certainly an active little thing, isn’t she?” Bruce commented, patting Kory’s belly before removing his hand entirely,

“She is, indeed.”

“Only a couple more months to go, isn’t it?” 

Kory nodded and cradled her belly with both of her hands, an attempt to soothe her unborn daughter into a light slumber; just for a while so that she could relax a little more during dinner.

“I believe I shall miss being pregnant.” Kory admitted,

Bruce chuckled and threw a smirk in Dick’s direction, “I suppose you’ll just have to have another then, hm?” 

Dick choked on his tongue and a blush leaked across his cheeks as he stammered, “Uh… I-I don’t… I think we’ll be a little busy to…” 

Whilst her husband stumbled over himself, Bruce turned to Kory and gave her a secret wink only she could see, drawing an amused giggle from her.

“Right, let’s eat. Shall we?”

Alfred bobbed his head, “I’ll start preparing to bring it out, Master Bruce.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” 

With that, Bruce, Dick and Kory started to make their way towards the long dining table in the room just next door. 

Dick followed closely, falling in beside Kory and touching the small of her back, causing her to smile in content. His touch was a godsend; something her body and the baby had craved since the moment they discovered she was with child. She leaned back into his hand, appreciating the way his fingers rubbed circles against her cloth covered skin.

As they approached the dining table, Dick hurried ahead of his wife, pulling her chair out and taking her hand to help her sit down on it. She smiled and sweetly kissed his cheek, thankful to have married someone who was so protective and devoted to her basic well being.

He grinned back before he took the seat beside her.

The corners of Bruce’s lips lifted upward, silently proud of the way Dick had turned out. It made him feel like he had steered him right, despite his own conquests throughout his adult life, with only select women meaning something to him the way Kory meant something to Dick.

But, he did wonder if any woman had actually meant something to him like Kory meant something to Dick. Their sturdy relationship was something rare and special and he was genuinely very happy for his son, to have found something like that.

As Alfred served the dishes for the evening, conversation began to flow, the natural streak slowly starting to show itself. 

“So…” Bruce started, cutting into the meat on his plate, “How are the Titans?”

Dick smirked, “You mean… how is Damian doing as leader?”

Bruce shrugged, not wanting to show how obvious he was.

“He is doing extremely well. He has learned a lot from his time with the team… he is much more… patient and aware than when he first came to us.” Kory explained, lifting her fork full of chicken into her mouth,

Dick nodded and took a swig of his wine, “He’s definitely matured. I mean… 16 years old and he’s proving to be a very good leader. Hardly any complaints from the others.”

Bruce raised a dark brow, “But there are some.”

Kory stifled a smirk, “It would seem not everyone is a fan of his early morning training sessions.”

The head of the table paused, blinked in disbelief before he burst into laughter, “Well, I suppose that’s a fair reason not to be happy with him.”

Dick and Kory laughed alongside him, nodding their heads in agreement.

“Kory?” Bruce began, “Do you think you’ll return to your role of leader once you are settled with the little one?”

The Princess paused in her sipping from the glass of water and tilted her head to the side as she swallowed the mouthful, “I… am undecided… we are… still deciding what we wish to do in terms of the future.”

“Oh?”

Dick cleared his throat and his cerulean gaze fell on his former mentor, “Well… we were considering leaving Damian as the team’s leader… y’know… permanently.”

Bruce’s brows shot to his hairline, “Really?”

Sighing, Dick briefly dragged his fingers through his hair, “We need to pull back… maybe not forever but… our daughter is gonna need our focus. I’m working on arranging a roster so that I’m not always away from home as well. We’re… really taking this seriously.”

“We never want her to feel like she missed one of us whilst growing up…” Kory murmured, pattering her fingers against her belly in a moment of playfulness.

Bruce took a long moment before he nodded earnestly, “That sounds like a smart idea, you two.”

Kory smiled and glanced in Dick’s direction as he clasped her knee beneath the table, “Thanks.”

“So, I’m assuming you don’t want to come along for the secondary patrol later tonight.” 

Dick lifted his head, “Uh… I didn’t say that. As long as it doesn’t go past midnight, I’m permitted to go with.”

“Permitted?”

Kory smirked into her food as Dick chuckled, “Didn’t you know, Bruce? Kory makes all the final decisions.”

Bruce smiled, “She is the more intelligent one so that makes sense.”

“Hey!” 

Kory burst into a fit of giggles, taking another gulp of water from her glass. She felt her cheeks grow rosy from the banter that was being shared around the table and slowly, the walls that seemed to go up whenever she came to Gotham started to crack; just a little. 

She returned to slicing up the succulent chicken breast that sat on her plate, popping a piece into her mouth and allowing the flavors to dance across her tongue. 

“So, Kory… will you be visiting your parents on Tamaran closer to your due date?” Bruce asked, making gentle conversation,

Kory froze in her seat, her body going rigid at the question, despite Bruce’s complete obliviousness to the elephant in the room. She realized that Dick had never told his father about her own lack of family members; with most of them having perished years prior.

“Uh-” Dick made to save her from explaining but Kory held a hand up, stopping him. She felt a need in her heart to be honest and direct with her personal life. There was a constant feeling that dwelled in the pit of her stomach that Bruce merely tolerated her and that he barely knew anything about her, despite being his daughter in law for the past 2 years. 

But, she wanted him to know all about her and she wanted to share things with him; to have a closeness with her father by marriage that she did not necessarily have with her biological father.

Bruce had paused in eating, sensing that he had erred somewhere in his question.

Kory swallowed the mouthful of poultry and gently dabbed her lips, careful not to smear the lipstick she wore. 

“Unfortunately… my parents are deceased.”

Realization suddenly dawned on Bruce and his shoulders sagged in obvious sympathy and understanding for the woman sat at his table, “Oh… I’m sorry, Kory.”

She offered him a tight lipped smile and shook her head, “Do not be. It was… a long time ago…” She paused, considering how they treated her when she was alive and what she had endured at the hands of her parents, using her to barter for peace on their world, “Besides… they were not… the nicest of people.”

Her father in law stared at her for a long stretch of time, as if mulling over things in his head before he gave her a gentle smile, one that revealed his own pain from a young age. 

She knew that they were all orphans in truth, the three of them sat at the oak wood table that lined the middle of the room. She knew about Dick’s parents and then she later learned of Bruce’s origin as well, which was no less saddening than hers or Dick’s.

“It doesn’t make it much easier… whether they are good or bad people. It still hurts.”

Kory eyed him and felt a lump in her throat. She nodded in agreement, “No. It does not.”

She felt his hand cover hers, gently against the surface of the table and she looked up to hold his stare to which he offered her the softest smile she thought she had ever seen on him,

“Well… you know you’ve got us, Kory. You’ve always got a place here, in this family.”

Kory felt tears prick the back of her eyes but she refused her emotions for once. Her smile trembled as her heart felt so full before she nodded back to him, understanding that Dick had been right about what Bruce supposedly thought of her after all this time.

“Thank you, Bruce.”

#dickkory #dickkory week 2019 #dickkoryweek2019 #dick grayson #koriand'r #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #oneshot #fanfiction #nightglider124

[oh1captain9my4captain2]

Chasing Time

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: ANGST

Words: 1,800

With time constantly ticking by, the reader decides it’s finally time to start a family. With or without a man. So she recruits one of the Avengers for assistance. But how exactly will that pan out for them? (Part 2 of my series - Chasing Time)

The more time you and Steve spent alone together the closer the two of you got. However, it made it difficult for you both to keep the same ‘no strings attached’ charade up. Sure, it was easy at first when you were barely on speaking terms, but that was becoming exceedingly difficult since you were now sleeping together. Every time it happened you found yourself wanting to stay a little longer, and snuggle a little closer to him, and a part of you thought that Steve wouldn’t mind if you had. To be honest, it almost felt like he was upset to see you go.

After a little more than a month he told you about a mission he’d be going on with the rest of the crew, and a pit formed in your stomach. You were terrified that something might happen to him, but you refused to let your emotions get in the way. With a heavy heart, you watched him take off in the quinjet, not knowing how long it would be until he came back; or if he would make it back at all.

With your nerves on end you race to the bathroom, spilling your lunch in the sink until there was nothing left to throw up. You wipe your mouth before opening the cabinet to retrieve your toothbrush and toothpaste. Surely you couldn’t be pregnant already; you hadn’t felt any different than usual. When you finish brushing your teeth you open the cabinet to put it all away and spot the pregnancy test sitting on the top shelf. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to try?’ You thought to yourself, pulling it out and tearing open the box. Two of them fell out into the sink, and you picked them up, shaking.

“Please, please, please,” you stammered, peeing on the sticks and setting a timer. If this came back positive, you’d never have to sleep with Steve again. You still hadn’t decided if that was a blessing or a curse. The feelings could end here like you hoped, or you’d end up wishing this had never happened.

You hesitated as the sound of the timer rang through the tiny bathroom and leapt from the floor in shock. There it was; two pink lines displayed on both of the tests. The first thing that popped into your head was whether or not you should tell Steve. Doing it over the phone was the last thing you wanted, but in the odd chance that he wouldn’t make it, you felt he should know.

As you dialed his number, your finger paused above the button, ready to end the call, but it was too late; he answered. “Y/n, is everything okay? We’ve barely been gone an hour,” there was no doubting the way his voice broke in the middle of his sentence. Apparently, he was just as worried about you as you were about him.

“I’m fine, I was just checking to make sure you were all okay?” You lied, why did you lie? That knot in your stomach tightened, and you felt the urge to just get it over with but couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“We’re fine,” Steve affirmed, softly, looking around at everyone. They were all questioning why she had called as well. With their eyes continuing to pierce through him he decided to find the nearest room and shut the door for a little more privacy. “Y/n, are you sure that’s why you’re calling? It doesn’t have anything to do with something else?”

“No, Steve, I promise, everything’s alright. Just enjoy your time away and try to relax a little. I’m sure the team would love to see you sipping dry martinis on the beach,” you giggled, trying to play it off as nothing.

“Sure, and then I’ll let Banner be Captain,” he retaliated, making you smile a genuine smile.

“Just promise me you’ll make it back in one piece,” you heard yourself saying before you could stop the words from escaping past your lips. He went radio silent for a moment, and it sounded as though he was trying to think of what to say as he let out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, but if I don’t, then don’t let Stark anywhere near you. He’s got a big enough head for two people the way it is; I’d hate to see how much worse his kids would be.” Steve quipped, continuing to give out demands.

“The day I sleep with Tony Stark is the day Loki rules Asgard,” you shot back, knowing that was one command you would gladly abide by.

“Then I have nothing to worry about,” he smirked before the smile slowly fell from his face. “I’ll see you soon, y/n.” There was a promise in his voice that made your heart beat a little faster at the sound.

“I hope so,” you breathed as your eyes began to fill with tears. You both ended the call, and your hand slowly fell to your stomach as it rested against your flat tummy. “Well, baby, looks like it’s just you and me,” you whispered to the child that was growing inside of you even though you doubted they could hear what you were saying.

When the time came for everyone to return you waited eagerly for the quinjet. In the weeks that Steve had been away your feelings for him hadn’t diminished but almost tripled. You found yourself missing that one on one time with him and feeling his warmth against you. When he was gone it was like everything you’d ever wanted had just been ripped away and being stuck in Avengers Tower by yourself for so long made life a little dull.

What you hadn’t expected was for Steve to come bounding over to you as he grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you inside. Once you were alone in his room, he looked you deep in the eyes with a concern that made you want to kiss all his worries away.

“Y/n,” he choked out finally, pulling you into his warm embrace. Why was he doing this? Did he already know?

“Steve, it’s okay, I’m here. What’s wrong?” You blinked, trying to distinguish the look on his face. Was he crying?

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but something happened on the mission.” There was a sense of urgency in his voice. A panicking tone that made your skin crawl at the sound. “Half the people in the world are gone,” his lashes fluttered as he fought back tears.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Your face went blank, hoping beyond hope that this was all just some kind of crazy dream that you’d wake up from in a minute.

“Vision?” You stammered, and Steve shook his head. “Peter?” Again, he was silent. “Oh, Steve, no, don’t tell me…Bucky?” That was it; that was his undoing. In that moment he crumbled in your arms as the tears began to overflow. He’d just lost his best friend, and you were the only one he wanted there to comfort him.

Holding him in your arms you helped him to the bed where the two of you sat down, never letting go of each other. Somehow, you still didn’t know how it happened, you had ended up curled together at the top of the bed. Steve was cuddling you so fiercely that there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he was afraid you were going to disappear too.

When he finally spoke, you could feel your heart racing against him. The way his voice shook made you terrified of what this world was going to be like now. It was like the sound of a broken man who had given everything to win, but still managed to lose. Never in your many years of knowing Steve Rogers did you ever feel like he was weak, but this wasn’t your Steve anymore. It seemed as though he had lost his will to live, to fight, and to breathe.

“Why did you call me that first day?” Steve asked as sadness continued to cloud his features.

“Steve, not now, it’s not the time,” you whispered, running your thumb against the tears on his cheeks to wipe them all away. Your heart ached as you took in the sight of the man before you, and you thought to yourself that what you had to say could wait a little while longer.

“Tell me you’re pregnant,” he begged, resting his large hand against your slightly bigger tummy. The t-shirt you’d been wearing had covered the tiny bump that was already starting to form, and you hoped that this may be what he needed to keep going.

There were no words to say as your whole face lit up, and you looked up to let your eyes meet his. For the first time since he’d gotten off the quinjet there was a smile spread across his face, and you were happy that he finally knew.

It took a while for the two of you to finally drag yourselves out of bed. Soon enough the hunger became too demanding, and your need for human interaction was a must. You needed someone else to shine a little light in your lives, and you were hoping that everyone wasn’t too depressed to do so. Together you all gathered in the living room, sitting down and looking around solemnly. Natasha was sitting on the couch with her legs propped up on the coffee table, and Thor was sprawled out in the recliner. Clint was sitting opposite from Nat, but he looked like he didn’t want to be there; just like everyone else.

“Guys, I know this is probably a bad time, but I need to tell you something,” you proceeded, trying not to meet their eyes. “I’m pregnant,” you breathed, finally taking in the expressions on their faces. No one seemed mad, or upset, or angry. Instead they put on a fake smile and pretended to be happy with the good news.

“Who’s the father?” Nat asked, looking around the room at the guys. I noticed her eyes lingered on Steve a half a second longer then the other two but made nothing of it.

“Actually, I had a donor,” you explain, filling them in on the entire process. Saying that it took a little bit of time before one finally took, but that you were excited none the less.

“Congratulations,” they all said, hugging you tightly, and rubbing your little belly. If your calculations were correct you were just at two months pregnant which meant there were only seven months left. You were more than ready for that seven months to come flying by, though, especially with how different things were going to be around here. You could use a little bundle of joy to brighten your days. What you still had to figure out, though, was what you were going to do about your feelings for Steve.

——————————————-

@carebaredanvers @torntaltos @homecomlng @bluediamondsevie @vesta-ro @iron-sass

#captain america #steve rogers #chris evans #captain america the first avenger #captain america winter soldier #captain america civil war #avengers #avengers age of ultron #avengers infinity war #avengers endgame #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #endgame #gif not mine

[crazy-talk]

As promised, here’s a little large compilation sort of thing of little moments and memories from SBFP that you folks have submitted. I really appreciate everything that you’ve all submitted, it’s pretty clear that SBFP helped and entertained a whole lot of people - in equal amounts.

Here’s some SBFP moments:

Grand Wizard Wakka

The Shitstorm VII Woolie haunting plan

“What a mysterious game.”

MY HOUSE

“Wait, what’s my objectives?” “You don’t haaave any objectives!”

Qui Gon Chi

“Whah happuh?” “das whah happuh!”

“No, shut up though.”

The Baby

“Shut the fuck up about Face/Off!”

“Bleetzboll...”

The Sadness Trilogy

“KIDS LOVE THE FOCKIN’ DEVIL!”

Pat thinking he’s dying because he sat on a chocolate bar

Kenpachi Ramasama

Shit-kids

“Whut deh fuhk? Is he using duh bät room?”

Mr. Shakedown/Kenny/Quint/Eric Sparrow

TAR-KUS! TAR-KUS! TAR-KUS!

“Love is just chemicals.”

Pat eating candy alone in a closet

Matt throwing the fire axe

“Oh no, I make’da bad game!”

“Hey, is that the script?”

“JAAASON!”

“It’s fine.”

The RE2 valve noise

“Yeyeyeye!”

Woolie’s atomic purple Gameboy

“Eyy, what’s goin’ on, man? You ready to play?”

And some SBFP memories. Some of these may be a bit emotionally heavy so feel free to skip this part:

the sbfp lp of yakuza 0 got me and my best friend into the yakuza series. we watched it together and we still laugh about matt falling to pieces over "never-before-seen results" - Anon

the best friends have had such an influence on my speech patterns that i've infected people who've never watched them before. half of my friend group says super big [x] and porked up now - Anon

SBFP introduced me to so many games that ended up becoming personal favorites of mine, like Deadly Premonition and the Silent Hill series. Their videos became a way for me to spend time with some of my own best friends as well! -  captainofthestars

theres one particular moment that will always resonate with me - in their devil may cry lets play, i cant remember if it was 1 or 3, they talk about someone in the comments who mentioned that they had to beat devil may cry with items due to having a physical disability of some kind, i cant remember which. they talked about how it was awesome that he managed to even beat the game like that, and, personally, as someone who struggles with motorskills issues this made me very happy, as a devil may cry fan. theres a lot of other great moments from the tbfp, both funny and genuine that made me happy, but this one in particular stuck with me a lot. -  krillfingers

I'll never stop making "pull out king" jokes thanks to sbfp - venerabledreadnought

I remember the first Shitstorm that made me actually have to get up and sit in a brightly lit room with other people in it, Anatomy. It's become a Halloween tradition to watch it every year since, though watching a whole bunch of Shitstorm also became one. As someone who started watching at their second machinma ep, it's not a lie to say that they made up the entirety of my teenage years. I will miss the channel dearly, but I look forward to the future. -  duke-nitro

My friends and I have been watching The Zaibatsu for so long that we have accidentally adopted a bunch of their phrases like going “yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah” or saying someone “go down.” Also, despite us not knowing each other when we became fans, we all somehow began with their Man vs Wild let’s play and I even made friends with one of them because I quoted something from it at work. Favorite moment probably has to be the entire Omikron playthrough, I can’t pick a single moment. It was a beautiful trainwreck start to finish and I still put on the playlist from time to time while I’m doing other things. I swear I could gently fall asleep to the sounds of Pat screaming about the shooter segments. shogun-ceanataur

Persona 4 and Kenpachi Ramasama were my favourite. I found the name itself hilarious, but how they kept on referring to him as the full name in different little bits and tones never failed to make me laugh. That “See you later, fuckers!” part from when you see Yosuke was also hilarious. I’m not sure if that video is the oeigin, but it’s why I’ve integrated that phrase into my everyday life. Goddamn what a fun, memorable episode. - whatthehellisthisevenfor

tbfp got me through being homeless in my car twice. every time that I wanted to give up, to just stop trying, i'd turn on whatever new video they had out and it brightened up my life. my mom, who was with me, came to love them to, she used to wait to hear them to relax. i have so many memories of that time, and i don't fully relax or even eat on long days until I've turned their videos on. my favorite quote is still "mistakes into miracles". its a rly motivating quote imo. -  c0l0c4k3s

I always loved the Silent Hill 2 LP. I never played it when it came out - all I knew was that it was a horror game, and I hated horror at the time. But when the LP came around, I knew a bit more about the game and I was intrigued. Seeing the game, meeting the characters, hearing Pat disect the story and themes for Matt, I loved it all. I was fascinated, and still am. I will still watch the LP every few months, and I call SH2 one of my favorite games, even though I still haven’t played it.Thanks, SBFP, for all the great moments and the great memories. I wish you all well. - iamthewanderingbard

The best friends are what got me so invested in the Dark souls games, and what motivated me to get through DS2. Even if I say 'You see what i mean' unironically a lot, and go 'You. Did it.' -  awkwardmuses

I got into Super Best Friends from a post on the Twin Perfect forum, that linked to the Silent Hill Downpour lp, and never looked back. Their let's plays brought me so much joy back when I wasn't in the best living or health situation, and continue to do so. My favourite let's plays have to be Eternal Darkness and the Shitstorms; I always go back to those when depression hits, or for any reasons. I'll miss them together, but I'll always have those delicious delicious memories. -  mrjaffesxeldritchtwin

The Best Friends Play are the reason I end so many sentences with "though". I first found them when a friend recommended the Best Sisters Play MLP animations, and I've loved them ever since. I know it's used as a joke, but I really believe they've earned the title of HYPEST GAMEPLAY ON YOUTUBE. I love all of their David Cage playthroughs, and I adore how many plot-points they guess during Beyond: Two Souls. I love how, when they play a game they really love, they show so much knowledge and care. -  mads-in-zero

It was incredibly amusing and oddly touching that the Zaibatsu created this hate circle of David Cage and his godawful games. Even before Detroit’s release, the best friends AND the fanbase were ready to hate it because as a collective, we just latched onto that one thing to hate/make fun of. And we go all out on it together like some fucked up family, and I love it. -  missinghmmingbird

I can’t help but shrug off every minor inconvenience and major issue in my life with “it’s fine” thanks to Gun Jumper Liam. Thanks to Matt and Woolie supporting Skullgirls like no one else on the internet, I really got into it and fighting games as a whole. I’m not good at them, but oh boy do I love them.And if it wasn’t for Pat, I don’t think I’d ever have touched a Yakuza or Persona game.These guys affected my life more than any other individual or group on the internet ever really has. -  dklordg

The first Best Friends video I ever watched was Portal 2. That short LP had me in stitches. I'd never laughed so hard. I've been a huge fan since then. These guys where the ones that introduced me to LPs and made me realize that you can have fun watching other people bumble through games. TheSw1tcher has been one of my favorite channels on YouTube since I began watching. It gave me something to look forward to. I got through high school, and essentially grew up, watching these videos. There are so many catchphrases and memes I will never forget and will always make me smile. I absolutely say stuff like “whah happun?” and “shit-kids” all the time. The Deadly Premonition and Detroit: Become Human playthroughs are wonderful gems in my eyes. It’s amazing how a group of guys can get so many people to collectively love and bash certain games. We’re all on the same page, having a blast like a huge group of friends at a slumber party. Matt, Pat, Woolie, Liam, Billy, and everyone who involved themselves with the Super Best Friends are the absolute best. They gave me a chance to relax and laugh along with some familiar voices. Although it's sad they are going their separate ways, I totally respect that fact. They have my love and support. I wish them nothing but success and happiness moving forward. I'll be watching! And a note to my fellow fans: This has been a wild ride. I'm glad I got to enjoy it with you. You are all fantastic people. -  fablesamongus

#Text post #Comp post #super best friends play #SBFP #Two Best Friends Play #TBFP

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: Duke Nukem Forever

I like to kick off each new year with a truly magical review. Remember when I kicked off 2018 by reviewing a Jesus porno? Let’s be real, I peaked with that one. I’m not even gonna try to top it. What I will do, however, is talk about something I’ve wanted to discuss for a long time: Duke Nukem Forever.

This game almost needs no introduction; its stay in development hell and its tumultuous development is the stuff of legends, second only to Half-Life 3 in infamy among gaming vaporware. And it somehow managed to stay in infamy because despite releasing, UNLIKE Half-Life 3, most people who bought it really wished that it hadn’t. It turned out Duke was in the oven a bit too long, and the game we got was a mediocre shooter that was already out of date by several years when it finally released, not helped by its potshots at better series and use of extremely dated memes (Leeroy Jenkins? Really?). 

Thankfully, I was divorced from this decade-spanning drama, being barely aware of the game until a few years back. Being a fan of Duke as a character - he is a loving spoof of the kind of action heroes I enjoy after all - and curious about the game after reading the fascinating history behind its development, I ended up playing it and… I thought it was okay. Yeah, I was expecting a lot more from this game in either direction, but it ended up being a rather middling, decent experience.

So let’s talk about what’s unironically good first: the interactivity. There are a LOT of little things Duke can interact with around the world, from a whiteboard you can doodle on to a functional pinball machine. None of this is groundbreaking by any means, but there is a certain childish thrill from picking up a turd from a toilet and flinging it around or from smacking some alien wall titties. There’s even an enjoyable dream sequence where Dukeis at a club that has tons of interactive elements in it! The fact that a lot of these interactive elements can lead to increases in Duke’s health is an added incentive to spend time doing them.

I actually enjoy some of the level design in the first half of the game, in particular the segments where Duke is shrunk down. I don’t know about you guys, but there’s something I really find charming about hopping over fryers and climbing through conveniently placed holes in the walls of a shitty fast food joint. It’s the sort of stuff I imagine when I’m bored at work. If the whole game had been as creative and fun as these parts and had expanded on the interactivity more, I think this would have been worth the wait a bit more… but unfortunately there’s more to this game.

After the first couple of segments, the level design plummets. The portions where Duke has to drive through the desert are especially jarring as they are incredibly barren with little to do or discover. This is then taken to the opposite extreme when you get to the final area, the dam, which is downright labyrinthine at parts and absurdly difficult. You will likely not die any place more than in this level due to the ridiculous number of enemies they cram into the tight corridors and underwater sections. It makes you wonder if this area was made so difficult to hide how short the game is - things wrap up after the dam level ends, with one ridiculously easy final boss left once you escape.

Then again, you may be thanking your lucky stars this game is mercifully short, because Duke and the world he inhabits are pretty intolerable. The entire world has become a monument to Duke’s ego, with just about everything revolving around him. Duke is like a Mary Sue escapist fantasy - a huge macho man who kicks ass, takes names, gets blowjobs from twins and his genderbent counterpart (apparently it is Bombshell’s model behind the glory hole in Duke’s dream, so he can literally go fuck himself), and is adored by literally everyone. And yeah, Duke was always kind of like this… but somewhere along the game’s journey somebody forgot that the tongue of the writers is supposed to be firmly planted in their cheek. The issue here is that the game is taking everything about Duke DEAD SERIOUS. We’re supposed to see Duke as the supreme god-tier badass who makes Master Chief and Gordon Freeman look like pussies, but it’s hard to buy into that idea when we are only told this while playing as him is just an unfun chore.

And maybe this would be better if they had polished up Duke’s character a bit, but he’s really inconsistent. Jon St. John is still absolutely fantastic with the voice and the delivery, there’s no denying that, but he unfortunately is portraying a really lame iteration of this beloved character. I think the point where I lost faith in this Duke is when, after finding the blowjob twins trapped in alien cocoons and begging him for help, Duke’s response is to just tell them they’re fucked. This is in stark contrast to him going apeshit when the aliens stole his babes, and is yet another sign the writers just didn’t GET Duke. Duke is an overly-macho chauvinist, yes, but he DOES care about babes. He’s more Johnny Bravo, less conservative pro-life blogger. Here though? This is just an uncharacteristically misogynistic response, and it is never commented on again. It’s just so jarring and bad that it kind of hampered my enjoyment of the game.

Still though, there is something halfway charming buried under the garbage. There are flashes of fun here and there that show promise of a better game, but they are always ultimately crushed. I feel if this game had come out in a more timely fashion with the innovations it does have, it would be considered revolutionary, but alas, we don’t live in that world. Half-Life 2, Halo, BioShock, and countless other franchises came and redefined what an FPS could be while this game was floundering between studios, leaving it so that when this game finally dropped, there really wasn’t anything special about it save for its protagonist, who himself felt like a relic from a bygone age who had become in earnest the very thing he once parodied so effectively. 

It’s hard to really recommend this game; even among first-person shooters, which tend to age like milk, this game has aged very poorly. If you’re curious about it like I was, well, there are worse things to pull out of a bargain bin; the game is dirt cheap on most consoles. Generally speaking though I’d say just get the equally cheap yet infinitely better Duke Nukem 3D; it’s frankly amazing how much better that game has aged despite it being a game released in the wake of the original Doom. 

What the future holds for Duke is rather unclear; at the end of this game he says he’s gonna run for President, but I dunno, the idea of an overly macho, violent, misogynistic celebrity becoming president is pretty far-fetched, riiiiiiiiiiight? Let’s not end this on a depressing note that reminds us of the bottomless stupidity of American politics, though. Let me tell you the one genuinely good thing this game brought to the world:

I brought the cover insert of the game to be signed by Jon St. John at a convention, and when I presented it he said in a tone that clearly was used to being dunked on for the game “Be honest, what did you think of the game?” And I told him, “There were a couple parts I didn’t like, but overall I thought it was fun,” and the guy just lit up. It just made me really happy that someone liking this dumb game brightened his day like that, and honestly? It wasn't a lie. I did have fun with this game, despite its flaws, and if it let me brighten the game’s star’s day by saying I enjoyed it even a little, I’m glad it exists.

#Michael After Midnight #Review #Video game review #Duke Nukem #Duke Nukem Forever #FPS #development hell #Jon St. John

[fialleril]

redcap3 replied to your post “Following this post (months later because this got buried in my drafts...”

...is it crazy I kinda want to see post-Vader Anakin being set up for a blind date?

The whole thing is Han’s idea.

When he first suggests it to Leia, he says he wants to do something nice for the old man, which as cover stories go is frankly terrible. Leia only raises an unimpressed eyebrow.  It’s such a bad excuse it doesn’t even deserve a response.

Finally Han gives it up and admits that, okay, fine, he just can’t stand watching Rustbucket get flirted at every time they’re all dragged to some gala or top brass event. Anakin’s clueless act is just embarrassing, and worse, Chewie thinks it’s funny, that traitor.

Leia just goes on looking at him. Luke, though, says, “Uh, Han, I don’t think it’s an act.”

Han stares at him. “Oh come on, kid. No one is that clueless.” Then he stops to consider this, and who he’s talking to. Luke is a very friendly person, and very bad at recognizing the line between friendly and flirting. Half the Rebellion wants to date him and as near as Han can tell, he genuinely has no idea. But still... “Okay, fine, maybe some people are. But your old man was married. He managed to produce the two of you somehow. So he can’t be completely unaware of how these things go.”

Leia snickers at him. Han has the sinking feeling she knows something he doesn’t, but he knows better than to ask when she gets that look in her eye.

So he decides he’s gonna set Anakin up on a date, and Leia can laugh all she wants. He’ll be the one laughing when it works.

His first attempt is a guy named Rav who used to work maintenance in one of the hangars on Home One. These days he’s planetside on Coruscant. Nice guy, a few years older than Anakin, green eyes, a great ass. Han arranges the date at a bar so chill he frankly hates the place himself, but it seems like the kind of scene an older couple might enjoy. (Anakin’s only thirteen years older than you, a little voice in the back of his head says, but he ignores that. It’s too weird to let himself think about.) He tells Anakin that Rav wants to meet up and talk shuttle maintenance, which is such a damn obvious innuendo that he barely manages to restrain a cringe as he says it.

But hey, it works, and Anakin’s off to meet with Rav and Han congratulates himself on a job well done. Leia’s still smirking, but that’s just because she hasn’t yet learned what a great matchmaker he is.

Anakin swings back by Leia’s apartment about three hours later, early enough that Luke’s still there and Han is just a little worried. But it was only a first date, so...that doesn’t have to be bad, does it?

“How’d it go, Rustbucket?” he says.

Anakin shrugs easily and heads for the kitchen to start a pot of tzai. “Not bad. Rav’s got some great ideas for B- and Y-wing class fighters, but his views on TIEs are woefully misinformed.” He grumbles something under his breath. “I understand that there’s a need to bad mouth the enemy fighters in front of the troops, but you don’t need to buy into your own propaganda.”

Han blinks a little. Luke and Leia are snickering behind their hands, and for once, it’s real damn easy to see that they’re twins. He glares at them both.

“Well, all right, but...what about the, uh, social aspect?”

“Huh?” Anakin comes into the living room and sits in the chair across from Han and Leia’s couch. Han can never get over how the guy just...sprawls when he sits. It’s about the least Vader-like mannerism he can think of.

“Did you hit it off?” Han asks.

A brief frown crosses Anakin’s face. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind another chance to correct his opinions on TIEs.” Suddenly he brightens, “I did manage to get him the bartender’s number, though, and I’m pretty sure they’re going out this weekend, so I suppose that’s my good deed for the day.” He says this last very dryly. It’s something his therapist suggested, taking notice of his good deeds and letting himself be proud of them or something like that, and Anakin always snarks about it but Han is pretty sure he’s also following his therapist’s advice, so that’s something.

Anyway, that’s clearly not the important thing here. “Wait,” he sputters. “You...set Rav up on a date...with the bartender?”

Leia looks positively gleeful now and Han is pretty sure she didn’t plan this, but if it turned out she did he wouldn’t even be surprised.

Anakin, though, doesn’t seem to understand what’s got Han in such a fuss. “Sure,” he says with another shrug. “They made a cute couple.”

“I don’t believe this,” Han mutters. What kind of guy plays wingman for his own date? He scrapes a hand over his face and resolves to hold on to whatever dignity he can. “Okay, so Rav’s not your type, huh?”

Anakin only looks at him with an expression of such genuine confusion that Han can’t even convince himself the guy’s pretending. “My type of what?” he says.

A loud snort of laughter escapes Leia, and she tries to play it off as a sneeze. Han isn’t impressed.

“Never mind,” he mutters, and eventually the conversation moves on, but he knows Leia isn’t going to forget about this anytime soon.

*

So okay. Maybe he made a bad call with that first try. Maybe Anakin’s only interested in women? It’s a possibility. Fine. So this time Han will have to find the right woman.

He considers his options carefully. Luke and Leia’s mom was a politician and a founder of the Rebel alliance, smart as hell and also pretty damn stunning. (Leia definitely takes after her mother, he thinks, without the slightest hint of a goofy grin, no matter what Chewie says.) She must have had a terrible sense of humor though. Either that or she put up with Anakin’s awful jokes out of some never before heard of reservoir of patience and goodness. Actually, the way Anakin talks about her, that might be true.

So he’s looking for someone smart, driven, principled, but also somehow willing to endure endless terrible puns. That’s a tall order.

The first person he tries is Mon Mothma. It takes him a couple weeks to work up to asking her, because yeah, there’s nothing about this idea that isn’t awkward. But he’s got to admit, she does fit the profile.

So eventually he gets up the guts to suggest the idea of a date, and Mon Mothma laughs in his face.

Well, Han thinks, muttering to himself and wishing he could erase the last fifteen minutes of his life from existence. In hind sight, that was a pretty stupid idea. He’s never even heard of Mon Mothma going on a date.

“You’ve never heard of Dad going on a date either,” Luke says, smirking. Not for the first time, Han wonders what the hell he was thinking, making Luke his confidant in this. But he needed someone with more insight into Anakin, and he’d be damned if he’d ask Leia.

“That’s different, obviously,” Han says. “He spent twenty years inside a tin can.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just don’t understand why you won’t let this go,” he says.

“Because people are always flirting with him!” Han says. “And he’s always pretending not to notice. It’s infuriating.”

“It doesn’t happen that often,” Luke says, and okay, Han thinks, that’s actually true, but still. It happens often enough.

Luke sighs. “If you’re so stuck on that, why don’t you just ask one of the people who’s actually flirted with him?”

Huh. That’s not a bad idea, actually. Why didn’t he think of that.

*

It still takes him a while to plan his strategy, but eventually he manages to set Anakin up on a date with a woman named Meera Yasko. She’s Corellian, he’s pretty sure, but she’s also whip smart and pretty attractive. She’s some kind of attorney at a non-profit or something, and Han’s never been especially keen on people of the legal persuasion, but he figures Anakin might like that.

The old man takes a bit of convincing, but Han is a master of smooth talking (don’t laugh, Leia!) and eventually he gets them set up at a nice swank restaurant and even orders a bottle of wine for the table as a surprise.

*

Anakin comes back from this date a lot more excited, and Han experiences a fleeting moment of smug hope, only to have it crushed beneath Anakin’s heel when it turns out the man is excited for all the wrong reasons.

Apparently, Meera is the chief counsel at a non-profit involved in education for underprivileged youth, whatever the hell that means. They’re an interplanetary organization, too, but it’s not the organization itself that really interests Anakin. Meera has the legal background to cover all of the complicated bits about starting a foundation that Anakin doesn’t really understand (and Han understands even less, if he’s honest), and he thinks they might really be able to get this off the ground.

“Wait,” says Han. “This? What’s this?”

He expects a glare or an eyeroll from Leia and maybe Luke, but instead, they look as curious as he feels.

“Oh,” says Anakin, looking oddly shy. “Right. I haven’t told you yet. I’ve been thinking, well, they’re paying me all this money that I don’t need -” (here he raises a hand to forestall Leia’s usual protest) “- so I want to do something with it. And I thought... Tatooine’s free now, but there’s not exactly a uniform system of education, and many of the communities don’t have necessary supplies or access to training for teachers or -”

“Dad,” says Leia, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

As it turns out, setting up an entire school system takes a lot of work. Who knew, right? It also takes a pretty shocking amount of money, much more than Anakin’s supposedly extravagant yearly salary. That’s not a problem, though, because Meera helps him set up a fundraising program that’s frankly terrifying in its efficiency.

They spend an awful lot of time together, but it’s mostly in her office or over working lunches. Still, Han holds onto hope for a while. After all, she at least was definitely interested. He knows that. But after several months, he finally has to admit defeat. Meera and Anakin have a pretty great working relationship, and Han would even venture to say they’ve become friends, but he still hasn’t seen any evidence that Anakin ever realized she was interested, and it’s pretty clear now that she’s not thinking about him that way any more.

Still. The Padme Naberrie Educational Foundation basically exists because of Han, so he’s counting this one a win.

*

He keeps trying.

There’s a woman named Jasta who likes to dance and, apparently, has terrible taste in art. Not his best choice, but hey, Anakin managed to set her up with a guy they ran into at the art museum, and he seems happy about that, at least.

There’s Varin, who’s an active duty lieutenant in the Republic navy and likes to spend her leave time volunteering with animals. Anakin introduces her to the recently defected Admiral Piett, and damn if the two of them aren’t getting married about five months later. So that worked out, Han thinks, rolling his eyes. But hey, Anakin got a cat out of the deal, which apparently his therapist thinks is great for him, so...there’s that.

There’s Piett himself, which Han still thinks made sense in theory, because Anakin is clearly fond of the guy. But, looking back, he can admit that it’s pretty likely even Piett didn’t know this one was meant to be a date, and Han suspects Anakin may have agreed to the whole thing as an excuse to set Piett up with Varin.

His last attempt is a Twi’lek woman named Dinsa Atray who’s frankly just a little bit terrifying, but then so is Anakin, so Han figures it’s a good match. They actually start meeting up pretty regularly, and Han is starting to feel pretty smug about it, even though Leia still isn’t convinced of his matchmaking skills. But his illusions are cruelly shattered a few weeks later, when dramatic and disturbingly well-documented accusations of sentient trafficking and money laundering bring about the abrupt end of Senator Orn Free Taa’s political career and, eventually, the beginning of his exciting new prison career.

(“Well this was fun,” Han overhears Dinsa tell Anakin. “Let me know if you ever want to destroy a man’s life and reputation again. I’m always game.” Yeah. Maybe more than a little terrifying.)

*

Three years into his self-appointed quest, and Han’s sitting at the dinner table staring at an invitation to the wedding of Mon Mothma and Meera Yasko. He has to admit, he didn’t see that coming. He wonders a bit sourly if Anakin introduced them, too. Honestly at this point he wouldn’t be surprised. The universe is trolling him, clearly.

“Hey, Rustbucket,” he says, because no one’s ever accused him of quitting while he’s ahead. “Who are you bringing as your plus one?”

Leia eyes him with fond derision, and Han gamely ignores her.

“Kadee, probably,” Anakin says. “She likes weddings. Why?”

“No reason,” Han mutters.

*

It’s three more months before he finally gives up. But he’s not going to admit that.

“You know,” he tells Leia, “I think I can declare this operation a resounding success.”

“Really,” says Leia with a smirk. “Because from where I’m standing it looks like you set my dad up on a dozen blind dates, and he still doesn’t even realize he’s been on one.”

Han waves a careless hand. “Well, from where I’m standing it looks like Operation Get Anakin Skywalker Some Friends was an unqualified success.”

Leia’s face softens and she leans up to give him a lingering kiss. “That’s sweet, Han,” she says, and when he grimaces she laughs. “But don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

#replies #redcap3 #i write things #double agent anakin #star wars #sorry han but anakin is super demi and padme was it for him #also yes he really is that oblivious #the only reason he noticed padme was into him was because he was already interested in her #and therefore had a reason to notice #i don't think it's ever occurred to him that people other than padme have ever been or could be attracted to him #but at the same time he's not oblivious to interest between other people #and is therefore a surprisingly good matchmaker himself #so han's attempts at matchmaking ended pretty happily for everyone involved #meanwhile if there's anyone more oblivious than anakin #it's definitely luke #luke almost certainly has multiple fanclubs dedicated to him #and he has no idea #if he found out he would just be embarrassed tho #so no one tells him because it would just be cruel #also now i'm imagining anakin and dinsa set up on a date and honestly that's both hilarious and terrifying #it was probably super awkward until they discovered their shared interest in destroying orn free taa's life #han solo #anakin skywalker #leia organa #luke skywalker #mon mothma #dinsa atray #and a bunch of ocs i made up for this post who will probably actually appear in a fic now #long post

[scullyy]

Best Surprise

Title: Best Surprise

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 2134

Summary: It's Clementine's birthday, so Louis and AJ attempt to make it a great one. 

A/N: I need to redeem myself after the last few sad fics I wrote. Enjoy :)

-

AJ put his plan into motion by slowly climbing onto the edge of the bed, being incredibly careful as to not wake Clementine or the snoring mess beside her, Louis. Part of him was tempted to jump on Louis instead just to get him to shut up, but he was a kid with a plan and nothing could distract him. AJ pounced onto Clementine like an animal, landing on her stomach with a thud.

“Happy birthday Clem!” He shouted, ripping her out of a peaceful sleep, had it been anyone else she would have already pinned them to the ground.

Clementine felt winded, AJ weighed a lot more than she remembered. “What the hell are you doing AJ?”

“It's your birthday! We have to do something.” He seemed much more eager than she was. Her birthday was never something she went out of her way for, there was no true point. AJ always tried to make it a big deal when she taught him what birthdays were.

“What’s going on?” Louis croaked, rubbing the crap out of his eyes. “What is weighing down my arm?”

“It's me,” AJ didn't take into account Louis's arm that was draped around Clementine's stomach, he'll have to live with it for now. “I'm not moving.”

“Alright then little dude.” Louis slammed his head back onto the pillow, he wasn't a morning person and as far as he was concerned this was going to be another slow day.

“He's just excited cause it's my birthday,”

Wait, WHAT.

Louis shot upright, hitting his head on the top bunk. The pain wasn’t phasing him, not when there was something more important at hand. “It's your birthday?”

“She's eighteen,” AJ wiggled slightly, unable to keep in his excitement.

“And yet I let you sleep in on your birthday,” Clementine slowly pushed AJ off her stomach and sat against the headboard, her little boy resting comfortably in her lap. “What makes this birthday so special?”

“Well, usually your birthday makes you upset, but you haven't been sad lately and now we have Louis and I think he should celebrate with us.”

Clementine started blushing but Louis's heart began to flutter. He leaned over to AJ, ignoring the eye roll from Clem. “So what's the master plan?” There were so many things to do, so little time. Unfortunately, most of them would only be plausible if there were no walkers. It would be impossible to write ‘Happy Birthday Clementine!’ in the sky now.

Clementine shot him a deadly glare. “There is no plan, you guys don't have to do anything.”

“No can do Clemmy-”

“-Don't call me that-”

“-AJ and I have things to discuss,” He swiftly bounced off the bed and grabbed his coat. “Come on little dude, we have work to do.” AJ rolled off of Clementine and followed Louis outside, almost bounding out the door with such glee Louis thought he was on the cusp of exploding. He gave Clem a brief wink before shutting the door, leaving Clementine alone in bed with wide eyes.

“What just happened?”

-

“So, any ideas?”

AJ shrugged. “Not really, last year I gave her this flower I found and the year before that it was a hug.”

It's the thought that counts.

“Well it's time for Team Fun to up the ante,” Louis stretched his fingers dramatically, in the same fashion as when he’s about to play the piano, making AJ laugh. “I like the flower idea, we’ll keep that in mind. Have you done anything else for her birthday?”

“No, I didn’t know what a birthday was.”

“What has Clementine done for your birthday?” Louis was trying his best to milk out as much information as possible, but it’s hard when the child in question doesn’t understand social concepts.

“She would give me extra food and we’d spend the day playing games.”

God, she's such a good mom.

“Alrighty, so games are also an option. I’ll go and search the basement, there’s a whole pile of old stuff there that might make for a decent present, how about you go to Tenn and see if you two and draw up a cool birthday card.”

“What’s a card?”

“He’ll explain it to you. We’ll meet up at the flagpole when we’re done.”

The boys split off into two different directions with different goals. The basement wasn’t Louis’s favourite place to be, it hadn’t be opened in a few years, there was so much clutter down there it was pointless to try and clean it.

The basement was stationed near the nurses' office, it used to be a storage unit for the classes, all the spare equipment was kept down there. “Fuck, I hope there's no weird ecosystem growing,” The door squeaked as Louis slowly opened it a crack, sticking his head through. “Hey potential walkers, please don't jump out and eat me.”

The stairs were blanketed in dust and creaked as Louis made the descent into the dark that scared him as a child. He and Marlon would dare each other to sneak down there during the night and bring back something. Marlon once brought a box filled with spare guitar picks, Louis beat him with a spare hockey stick that he used to chase Violet during lunch.

The teachers kept an eye on him from that point on.

The small window didn't provide much insight, the majority of the room was hidden in shadows, not having seen daylight in years. Thankfully the rays of light shining in revealed a cardboard box labelled ‘Photography and Digital Media - Mrs Bryant’.

“Ah Mrs Bryant,” Louis sighed as memories of her trying to teach the rule of thirds and David Moore entered his brain. “You never did forgive me for cracking the lens of your Kodak.”

He began to dig through the box, hoping for a diamond in the rough. His wishes were answered when he came across a Polaroid camera somehow in working condition. “I won't even question it.”

Louis quickly ran back up the stairs, his childhood fears giving him adrenaline. He slammed the door with relief. “Fuck that place.”

He ran out to the courtyard, peering down corridors to look for Clementine, the one time he didn't want to run into her. AJ was sitting by the flagpole as instructed, a folded piece of paper in his hand and a few freshly plucked flowers in the other.

“Hey AJ, card ready?”

He opened it and showed Louis his and Tenn's masterpiece. “Does it look good?”

Louis smiled, impressed by the little cartoons drawn along the bottom of the card. “She'll love it.”

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Louis quickly hid the camera behind his back as he turned, expecting an angry Clementine. Luckily it was just Violet.

“It's super secret Vi, it only involves the members of Team Fun.”

Violet rolled her eyes, something she often did in Louis's presence. “Come on don't be a dick. Tell me.” She tried peeking behind Louis's back, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Fine. It's Clementines birthday and AJ and I have prepared a little surprise,” He brought the camera around slowly. “I found this in the basement, not entirely sure what to use it for but it’s somehow in working condition.”

“You went into the basement? Damn Louis, this is serious,” Violet eyed the camera playfully. “I think I know what the gift can be,” Within a flash, she yanked the camera from his hands and took a photo of herself giving the peace sign. Slowly the photo emerged from the gap in the camera. “You can give her something to hold onto forever.”

“That's actually really sweet Vi. I knew beneath that rough exterior there's a kind girl wanting to break free-”

“No fuck off.”

Soon the other kids gathered around to see the contraption in Violet's hand and everyone wanted to be featured in a photo. Violet took one of her and Louis poking their tongues out, AJ got one of him and Tenn smiling, even though half his face was out of the frame. Louis even captured one of Aasim in the midst of laughing, a truly rare sight. It took ten minutes to develop, but as each one unfolded it brought laughter and created excitement over Clem's potential reaction.

Clementine had been watching the commotion through the window, never had she seen any of the other kids act so excited. “What's going on?” She called as she jumped down the stairs.

“Happy Birthday Clem!” Ruby called out, causing a cheer amongst the other kids.

Clementine slowly placed her hands on her hips as she stared down Louis and AJ, who tried to look as innocent as possible.

“We tried to surprise you, so we organised a gift,” Louis was hoping he wouldn't get beat for this as he tidied the pile of photos and slid them inside the card. ”We all grant thee, Princess Clementine, the greatest of days.” Louis got down on one knee and presented her the card, AJ in tow, handing her the flowers.

She took her gifts gently from their hands, a little afraid of what was inside the card. But there was no reason to be, there was a long message on one side of the card, written from AJ, with a couple of drawings of flowers, cartoon monsters and her hat. On the other side were little messages from everyone, wishing her a happy day and Louis saying that he loves her the most, with AJ's writing beneath it going against Louis's claims.

“This is... “ Her heart began to beat faster as she looked through all the photos. “Incredible.”

Louis and AJ let out a sigh of relief.

“How long did this take to plan?”

Louis playfully swatted the air. “Not long at all, the brain power of Team Fun goes beyond the cosmos,” AJ nodded in agreement, he understood none of that statement but assumed it was good.

Clementine closed the card and ran to the group, enveloping them all in a hug. “Thanks guys.” They all eagerly hugged her back.

-

Clementine immediately went to work on placing the pictures on the wall by her bed. It definitely made it more like home, everyone's smiles were genuine, it made Clementine feel warm in her heart. The flowers were lying neatly by her hat on the desk, they certainly brightened up the place.

“Did you enjoy today?”

Clementine jumped slightly, Louis's voice bringing her out of her thoughts. He was casually leaning against the doorway, toying with the camera in his hands. “I did, I haven't had a birthday this fun in a long time.”

“I'm glad, it was fun to plan it with AJ,” He invited himself into the room and sat next to Clementine, the bed sinking a little under their weight. “He cares a heck of a lot about you, we all do.”

AJ had opened up to Louis in a way that genuinely shocked Clementine. Whenever they were together it reminded Clem of her relationship with Lee, it always brought a smile to her face. “He gets very determined sometimes.”

Louis agreed, not taking his eyes off the camera. “Your birthday isn't over yet, there's still one photo missing,” He motioned for her to come closer which she did, any chance to get close to Louis was a chance taken. “I haven't gotten one with you today. I need this as photographic evidence.”

He positioned the camera in front of him and Clementine, ready to take the shot. “Evidence of what?”

“That I was as lucky to have someone like you.”

Clementine burst out laughing, hiding her face in his thick coat. Louis frantically captured the moment, hoping that he didn't lose her smile. “You know, the whole point of a photo is to take pictures of people and their faces. You hiding yours defeats the purpose.”

“Well, you caught me off guard!” She plucked out the photo with ease and placed it onto the dresser. “If I look like an idiot I'll blame you.”

“I'm confident in my photography skills, despite the fact the teacher hated me.” His smile makes Clementine die and come back to life all at once, even the missing tooth is something she finds endearing.

“Whatever, thank you for reminding me that birthdays can be fun,” She laid a swift kiss to his cheek, catching him off guard. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I usually like my birthday to slip under the radar, no point in making a fuss.”

Louis smoothly slipped his hand around her waist. “Ah but you are worth the fuss my dear,” He repaid the kiss with one to her forehead. “But like I said, your birthday isn’t over yet. Come on.” Louis stood from the bed, leading Clementine out the door. “There are games to be played!”

#twdg #the walking dead game #twdgs4 #clementine twdg #the walking dead season 4 #louis #twdg louis #clouis #louisentine #fanfiction #xscullyx

[moonjjks]

hello hello, it’s your local starry jungkook enthusiast, here with my very first follow forever~

Thank you so incredibly much to every single person who follows me!! You guys are the absolute sweetest and always brighten up my day! Bangtan has honestly really changed my life in the most positive way, and I don’t know where I would be without them. I made this blog during a really hard time in my life, and to think that it’s already been a year is so wild to me. At the same time I can’t believe it’s only been a year and I’ve already gotten to see them three times. Life is hard, but bts has helped me find ways to find joy in the little things. This blog has been a blessing in disguise from the day I started it, and it continues to be a place of love and support, and I sincerely cannot thank you all enough! 💕

To be honest I have no business making this still, but I hit a follower milestone that I never expected to ever reach on this sideblog, and the one year anniversary of this blog is coming up! (That, and I already made that cute lil header so I had to use it) So in celebration, here are some of the wonderful blogs that I follow! 

mutuals are bolded

♡ - i love you with my whole entire heart

✨ - go to the bottom for a sappy lil note 

# - i

@2awake | @angelbabyjiminie ♡ | @angeljk | @aurjeon | @aurtae | @bunjunggukie | @bwiae | @bwinkook | @chaewonsorbit ♡✨ | @chimchimbby | @dailyjeons | @ehtaehreal | @epiphenys | @femmetae | @flowerprincetae ♡✨ | @flowerjjk | @gcfstae | @glitterjjk ♡ | @guksdimple ♡✨ | @gukseuphoria ♡✨ | @ikons ♡✨ | @in2tae ♡

j - m

@jengkook | @jeonbase | @jeonggukbun ♡ | @jeonpetals ♡✨ | @jeonquil | @jeonsdear | @jeonsjjk | @jeonssrose | @jiminestamour ♡ | @jinbeann ♡ | @jinies ♡✨ | @jinsjade  | @jiminparke | @jjiminssi | @jjkguk ♡ | @joonpd |  @jungsth | @jungcf | @kara | @ksjknj | @ktheaven ♡ | @mangaetteok | @mangenstein | @mingani | @minshoot | @minyoongsueit | @monosjoon ♡ | @moonchildtual 

n - z

@nochujung ♡ | @officialjjk | @outrojk | @parksjimins ♡ | @qtyoong ♡✨ | @rmseoul | @rosegoldje0n ♡ | @rosejjk | @sevenducklings ♡ | @sgyoongi | @skelejimin ♡ | @skswriting | @spookiiguks ♡ | @spookychimmy | @stardustjeon ♡ | @stargazingjin ♡✨ | @strawbery-moon | @sugakookieislife | @sugakookmins | @sweetopiaa | @trickjktreat |  @utopiajeon ♡ | @yoonseok 

  ✨  Mutual Loving Time  ✨

bee: my carpe my diem 😘 my very best friend and my darling girlfriend. Part of me wonders how we would have happened had we not discovered bts, but tbh I’m glad that I never have to find out, because both bts and you have vastly improved my life in the past year alone, and I think our beginning is perfect just the way it is. You have the world’s biggest heart, and you continuously put me and my needs above your own. I've been so broken for so long, but you handle me with the utmost care. You’re so gentle with me, and my healing has been slow but every day I heal a little more thanks to you. You’re the very cutest and you make me smile every day. thank you for showing me all of the love i never knew i deserved. 💕💜💕

sav: SAV!!!! It’s been ages since we’ve talked (highkey because I’m the worst and I’m so sorry I’m so terrible with communication), but you were the very first friend I ever made on this blog, and I’ll always have immense love for you! I’m always creeping and wishing you the very best in the world. I love and miss you!! 💕 

lea: you are just the brightest person in the whole wide world, you shine so radiantly and you lift up everyone around you!! You are genuinely one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met and I absolutely adore you. You’re always checking in on me and offering comfort and I suck at keeping in touch with people but please know I am also always here for you!! I love you, thank you so much for being you!! 💕

sara: miss sara!!! we’ve both been so busy lately that we haven’t gotten a chance to talk much, but i love and miss you dearly!! You’re the sweetest ray of sunshine and I’m so glad we decided to start our own net!! There’s no one I would’ve rather done it with! You’re so kind and SO incredibly talented!! Your headers always make me so soft 😍 I’m always thinking about you and wishing you well!! 💕 

power trio: MY FAM!!! I love you two so incredibly much!! You always manage to brighten up my day! 💕 You’re both so intelligent and eloquent and also absolutely hysterical, you always keep a smile on my face. You guys are always so supportive, and I know I an always count on you for an accidental yeehaw when I need it 🤠✊. I couldn’t ask for a better twin or triplet, together we shall rule over all of ssbts 👑💜

rina: miss rina i love you so much I tagged both of your blogs!!! You are just the very sweetest and I love and appreciate you so incredibly much! Thank you so much for reaching out whenever I really need someone and for sharing your own experiences with me. You are SO incredibly talented, I’m always in awe of all of your creations!! You’re always so well-spoken and just the very sweetest I’m soft 💕 Also thank you again for the greatest url on the planet, I truly love it so much ;~; 

rebecca: We only just started talking, but you are so incredibly sweet and hysterical and I love you dearly!!! Every hufflepuff needs a slytherin!! 💕 I love yelling about how much we both love bts together, and I’m always here to help make sure you’re up to date with content!  💕

skippy: you get a message too cause I know you’ll see this. My note for you is:

u suck.

lol jk (💕) (has that joke gotten old? yes. will i stop doing it? no) the jinkook relationship is strong with this one tbh. We tease each other a bunch, but the love is always and will always be there. My concert buddy to the end apparently, I truly never expected you to follow me down the kpop hole and I’m never gonna shut up about it because it always makes me laugh 😂💕 You’re one of the funniest people I know (truly like the mvp himself I hope you know), and I love you lots. Anyways you’re fab, thank you for being the best bud I could ask for and for being awake at hours when everyone else is usually asleep~ #loops4life

#sdfgsgdas i hope i didn't forget anyone!! #i was a dumb dumb and waited too long to post this and i know a lot of people changed their url for mono dropping #i think i went and found the people who had changed and properly tagged them #if i didn't i'm so sorry and just assume you were supposed to be here cause you probably were!! #but yeah if i forgot anyone i'm so sorry i love you and feel free to let me know wadfegs #anyway i love you all!! #follow forever #bri.txt

[sholiofic]

Written for the Defenders Prompt Fest on DW. Originally posted here. (Go and leave prompts! Fill prompts! Celebrate JJ3!)

For the prompt: Gen, friendship, tiny Trish and tiny Jess. Or Trish and Jess in the "Cray Cray" era. Something where the two of them get to have fun dammit. (Bitterwsweet is fine!)

---

Outside of school, it wasn't often that Jessica could manage to catch Patsy without Dorothy around. Patsy's life was scheduled to a level that Jessica found frankly terrifying: photo opportunities, rehearsals, interviews, line readings, practicing dance moves long into the night.

There was only a gap in Patsy's schedule today because Dorothy was unexpectedly called in for a meeting with some studio head or other, something about falling ratings; Jessica literally could not have cared less, but the important thing was, Patsy had nothing scheduled this Saturday afternoon, so Jessica dragged her off to Central Park.

She wasn't even sure why; sunshine and happy families and hot dog vendors weren't her scene, either. But she was sick of watching Dorothy grind Patsy to dust. She was sick of listening to her sort-of-sister crying in the bathroom late at night, sick of watching the level of pills in the prescription bottles of uppers on the back of the sink go down and down. What kind of mother gave her fifteen-year-old daughter stimulants so she could get by on three hours of sleep a night?

In the sunshine, Patsy's eyes looked a little bruised with sleepless shadows, but she was grinning for the first time in days. Jessica thought at first that it was going to be a struggle trying to be the happy one (not exactly a role she was well suited to even before losing her entire family and coming to live in hell), but actually it was ... fun. They watched buskers performing, and petted people's dogs, and talked about dumb stuff, boys in class, that awful French II teacher in a class they were both flunking. It was almost like being normal kids for a change.

"Oh hey," Jessica said, pointing. "Ice cream. Want some?"

Patsy shook her head, the smile falling away from her face.

"Oh, c'mon. You can afford it."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten anything since breakfast." And possibly not even then. Come to think of it, had she even seen Patsy eat all day? As if on cue, Patsy's stomach growled, making her look startled.

"Ice cream. C'mon."

"Mom says I'm getting fat," Patsy protested as Jessica dragged her across the grass.

"Doesn't that just make you want it more, though?"

"Well ... okay." She smiled through the hair falling in her face. "Maybe it kind of does."

They both got triple-decker cones, and the vendor was scooping up Patsy's while Jessica reached into her pocket for a crumpled wad of cash (one of the few advantages to being Dorothy Walker's pity-child was that the woman didn't skimp on the allowance), when suddenly he brightened. "Oh hey! I just figured out where I saw you before! It's Patsy!"

Patsy's look of frozen dismay would have been hilarious under other circumstances, but right now Jessica just wanted to punch the grin off his face, especially when he started singing the first bars of the theme song.

"My daughter loves your show," he said, breaking off after just a couple of lines, before Jessica had a chance to really wind up and shove her ice cream in his face. "It got us through some really bad times this year when she had a cancer scare. Could you sign this?" He shoved a napkin at her. "It'd really mean a lot to her. Please."

Patsy grimaced, and then the frozen expression turned into a smile, her plastic smile-for-the-camera smile -- but there was something genuine underneath. "Sure, of course," she said, and took a pen out of her pocket; Jessica hadn't even realized she had one. "What's her name?"

She scribbled something on the napkin, and when Jessica shoved a fistful of cash at him with a growl, he shook his head, told them it was on the house, and gave them each an extra scoop. With sprinkles.

"Stop looking like that," Patsy muttered as they walked away, munching on their overstacked, teetering cones. "I swear there's going to be a thundercloud following you around like that Charlie Brown character."

"Who does he think he is? You can't tell me you don't mind."

Patsy huffed out a small sigh. "I do mind, of course I mind. But ..." She shrugged and licked at her cone. "I mean, you heard what he said, about his daughter and the cancer ...."

"Wah wah, my daughter has caaancer."

"Jess. C'mon."

"Okay, fine, whatever." It wasn't fair that Patsy was making her feel like the jerk now, but she kind of did. "You know he was just making up a sob story to get an autograph out of you, right?"

"Maybe he was, but even if he wasn't, people say things like that to me a lot, you know?" She shook her head and looked down at the cone. "I hate that stupid show, Jess, but it means a lot to a lot of people. I wish it didn't, I wish everybody hated it as much as I did, but people come up to me like that all the time. It got them through losing their mom, or their parents' divorce, all kinds of awful stuff. It makes people smile." She gave another little sigh and took a large bite of the cinnamon swirl scoop on top.

"Why are you so god damn nice?" Jessica said plaintively. "How?"

Patsy laughed.

"Do you really carry a pen everywhere you go?"

"It's easier than watching people grope around in their purses and pants, let alone the things they come up with. I've signed autographs in lipstick and maple syrup and --"

"Maple syrup."

"I know, it doesn't make sense to me either, but do you really want to watch me signing my name for that guy in hot fudge? Yeah, me neither."

"Your life," Jessica said, picking a sprinkle off the edge of her lip.

"Tell me about it."

#jessica jones #trish walker #defenders #defenders prompt fest

[teresa60521-blog]

Side Effects

chapter 28: 14 months

“Aizawa Sensei?”

The man in question turned at the sound of Uraraka’s voice. Uraraka stood there with her hands behind her back, dressed in her graduation uniform. She looked a bit sheepish and a little bit shy.

“Yes?”

Uraraka ran her fingers through her hair before returning them to their position behind her back. “I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Bakugou-kun these past three years. Mostly for sticking up for me in regards to Mr. Principal. I don’t think I would be graduating from Yuuei if it weren’t for you and All Might, so, er, thank you.” She bowed her thanks and held it for a moment. She didn’t hear Aizawa walk forward and jumped when his hand touched her shoulder. She slowly stood up straight and brown eyes widened to meet his.

“There’s no need to thank me. You belong here and I didn’t want to see that taken away. You did this all on your own, you should be proud of yourself.”

Uraraka couldn’t help but let a single tear escape before she scrubbed at her eyes. “Sensei…”

Aizawa’s grip on her shoulder tightened and a small smile graced his face. “You’re going to miss your graduation if you stand here crying, Uravity.”

Uraraka laughed and wiped at her tears, nodding. She had heard her hero name uttered dozens of times by now but somehow this was more special than the rest. “Okay. Thank you.” She bowed once more before fast walking out of the hall, going as fast as she could towards the auditorium. They were supposed to get their flowers and then line up outside so they could walk in, in an orderly fashion. Uraraka practically had to run across the school to get there.

It gave her time to reflect at least. It had been a long and strenuous three years, filled with times when she believed she wasn’t good enough, when she almost gave up, when she didn’t, and when she rose above everybody’s doubt about her. She had made it to her high school graduation, not unscathed, but with tons of scars that she would hold dear to her for the rest of her life. She couldn’t believe that she had made it this far, and bearing a child at the center of all of it. Even the biggest heroes of their country didn’t believe she could do it. Uraraka couldn’t wait to smile in their faces as she accepted her diploma.

“Oi, the fuck you’ve been?” Bakugou’s voice echoed through the hallway for the last time of their high school career. There were many times where he had confronted her in the hallway and she would miss hearing his voice in these halls. They grew together here and on the roof. But it was time to make new memories outside of these halls and in walls of their own. That conversation would come later.

“I had something to do.” Uraraka said simply.

Bakugou scrunched up his nose. “Something more important than leaving this hellhole?”

Uraraka pinched his cheek and laughed when he slapped her hand away. “Don’t lie, you loved it here.”

Bakugou pursed his lips and didn’t deny it, glaring at Uraraka’s knowing smile. He lifted up her boutineer, “Can I put this on you so we can get out there?”

Uraraka nodded with a blush on her cheeks. “Of course.”

With an exhale, Bakugou reached forward and slowly pinned the flower bunch to her jacket lapel. He was gentle with it, making sure not to flatten the flowers or accidentally stab her. Uraraka smiled to herself. “Can I do yours for you?”

Bakugou sniffed and nodded, handing his to her. She did the same thing for him and then fixed his tie. It was the first time she had ever seen him wear a tie and she suspected it was because of his mother’s empty threat that morning. She didn’t want her son to look like a “hoodlum” at his own graduation. Especially with so many important heroes in the room. It was nothing they hadn’t seen before.

“I hate these things.” Bakugou loosened his tie with a scowl, only for Uraraka to tightened it again.

“You have to wear it. After our graduation you can burn it if you hate it so much.” Bakugou made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat but otherwise didn’t say a thing.

An arm slung around both of their shoulders and pulled them close, sniffling sadly into their ears. “Guys, can you believe that we’re graduating?!” Kirishima sobbed between them. Uraraka laughed nervously as she watched Bakugou tense. He was never good with people crying and definitely wasn’t great at handling Kirishima’s ridiculousness. “We’re never going to see each other again.”

Bakugou elbowed him in the chest and Kirishima gasped, letting go of him. His other arm remained around Uraraka’s shoulder. “I won’t have to see your ugly mug every day. I’d call it a goddamn blessing.”

“That’s not true Kirishima.” Uraraka pat his shoulder and unraveled herself from his slight embrace. “We’ll all keep in touch. But you’re going to be in another city working with Fatgum right?”

Kirishima grin was lopsided and shrugged. “Maybe! I’m not sure yet! He hasn’t really offered me a job, but Tamaki-senpai still works for him so I think my chances are high!”

“That’s great!” Uraraka was so proud of her friends. A lot of them already had opportunities lined up for them. So did she. Gunhead wanted her to continue with him and help him patrol in his city. It would be a lot of travel but she would have been a fool to not accept the offer.

Bakugou, surprisingly, was the one without an offer. His dream of becoming number one hero was slowly dwindling. But they had time. They were only eighteen. They hadn’t even graduated yet, though that would happen in mere moments. This future with no opportunities was not forever.

Uraraka just didn’t know how long they had until Mitsuki kicked them out of her house. I’m sure she wanted her freedom back in not having to look after Kazumi all the time, even though she insisted she didn’t mind. Uraraka could see it in their eyes that they were just as tired as she was. They shouldn’t have to deal with her and Bakugou’s most amazing mistake. Uraraka really hated referring to Kazumi as a mistake because she had turned out to be the biggest blessing. But not using a condom was a mistake. The details are blurred.

Uraraka really wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe being beaten so easily at their last sports festival could be erased but otherwise she would do it all over again. She loved the little family she and Bakugou had started. Maybe they’d even expand it in the future. But for now they had to graduate.

As they lined up, Uraraka started getting emotional, more so than she already was. Behind her, Momo wasn’t much better. Tokoyami looked extremely uncomfortable having to be the only other person in front of the two of them (in their class that is). Todoroki was in front of him but as usual he was completely oblivious to the disaster in the making behind him. And they weren’t even in the auditorium yet.

Uraraka was, fortunately, able to get to through the entire ceremony without crying. She teared up a lot during All Might’s speech about how these past three years were some of the worst of his career but spending it with these students really made it all worthwhile. Uraraka could see from her seat that Midoriya’s shoulders were shaking as he held back tears and Bakugou was looking up at the ceiling trying to do the same. That made her mood brighten a little bit.

As she walked across the stage to finally receive her diploma, she smiled at Principal, Cementoss, Midnight, and Present Mic. These were some of the faces of the people who had doubted her and their facades were up as they smiled her. Each one was fake, Uraraka’s the only genuine one up there. She didn’t care. What was important was that she had exceeded their expectations and done it all with a child at home. That’s more than they can say for themselves, and half of them couldn’t even have children.

When Uraraka walked back to her seat she winked at Bakugou who blushed furiously. Kaminari and Kirishima prodded him from behind and she knew he was about to snap. Luckily they were in the auditorium and Bakugou wasn’t going to make a scene, he couldn’t. He wasn’t that much of a jerk.

The ceremony lasted three hours and Uraraka was shocked that she didn’t hear Kazumi crying once. She knew that both Masaru and Mitsuki were there supporting the both of them. Uraraka hadn’t even bothered reaching out to her parents but there was still a chance they would be there. They knew the date. Today was highly anticipated by everybody in the nation. It was unlikely though that they had shown up. Uraraka was finally at peace with that.

It was a madhouse trying to navigate out of the auditorium after the ceremony was over. Uraraka was whisked this way and that, completely losing Bakugou in the crowd as her friends wanted to take pictures with her. Midoriya’s mother almost couldn’t take the picture she was shaking and blubbering so much. Of course All Might was there to save the day and take the picture for them.

Uraraka had no idea how many pictures she had been a part of before she finally made her way to the Bakugou’s. Mitsuki spotted her first and grinned, opening her arms for a hug. Bakugou was holding Kazumi and Masaru just stood with a proud but soft smile on his face. Uraraka allowed herself to be suffocated by Mitsuki’s power hug.

“I am so, so proud of you.” She said and Uraraka’s smile wavered a bit. She wished it was her own mother who was saying these things. Uraraka wondered if Mitsuki had said the same words to Bakugou. It probably wasn’t a good time to ask.

“Thank you.” Uraraka hugged her tight before letting go. She gave Masaru a quick hug, who looked like he was about three seconds from bursting into tears. He didn’t open his mouth only nodded. Finally Uraraka rounded and planted a big kiss on her daughter’s cheek.

“Mommy and Daddy are so close to being heroes now! Are you excited?” Uraraka grinned when Kazumi put her slimy fingers on her face. Uraraka didn’t even care. She was being positive right now.

Kazumi gurgled her excitement and Bakugou’s face melted. He pressed a kiss to Kazumi’s temple and Uraraka smiled even wider. It was the first time in public, in front of everybody, that Kazumi was with them and they were acting like a real family. Uraraka had honestly waited for this moment for a long time and it was finally happening.

Mitsuki made them take a few pictures, even getting Bakugou to miraculously smile (as much as Bakugou would smile) for one of them. Kazumi was present in all of them except one, Masaru suggesting they take one of just the two of them. Bakugou had already done his “photo shoot” of solo shots. Uraraka wasn’t really desperate for those and would rather have Kazumi in her arms or standing on her toes while she did her’s. All of this happened in a whirlwind and before they knew it they piled into the car and headed off to go out to lunch before returning home, stomachs full and hearts heavy.

All of the emotions of the day were starting to hit her and as soon as she changed into her pajamas she broke down in tears. There wasn’t any one reason why she was crying, but Aizawa’s words from earlier were definitely the catalyst. Then it was everything at once. Bakugou found her crying into her hands on the floor and spent three minutes trying to pry them away from her face before giving up and collecting her in his arms.

Bakugou laid his head on top of hers and they sat quietly for a while.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Bakugou asked with his gruff voice.

“Not right now.” Uraraka answered, “I kind of want to lay down.”

Bakugou helped her up and tugged the covers over her head as she got into bed. Uraraka snickered and threw them off of her, getting ready to pinch Bakugou’s abs but he was already shutting the door behind him, giving her the privacy she needed until she was ready to open up. She closed her phone and laid there for a while, mind toiling with everything.

Now that high school was over and she made it, what goal was she going to work for? What was she going to do with her life? Was she going to go places? Would she really be able to be a hero with a child at home needing her?

The covers were once again pulled over her head, shutting out the world until the sun went down and her stomach grumbled. Her heart also ached for Kazumi and she wandered downstairs to find her running back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, high pitched squeals coming from her throat. Bakugou seemed to be lifting her above his head and then chasing her around once he put her down. Masaru and Mitsuki were nowhere in sight and Uraraka didn’t ask as she opened the fridge.

She felt something collide with her leg and looked down in time to see Kazumi fall to her butt. Kazumi scrunched up her face as if she were met with the biggest inconvenience in her young life.

“You okay?” Uraraka giggled as Kazumi grabbed onto her pants to assist her in standing. Her nose was still scrunched up but as soon as she saw Bakugou coming she grinned and squealed, running away. Bakugou slapped Uraraka’s ass as he sprinted by her, causing her to yelp. Uraraka pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head. She could see Bakugou’s smirk from here.

Bakugou and Kazumi ran around enough that it would tire Kazumi enough for her bedtime. Lowering the lights and laying her propped with a bottle. They kept an eye on her in between them in Uraraka’s bed as they faced each other.

“Are you nervous?” Uraraka asked, watching Bakugou’s rough fingers drag across her dried knuckles. Her hands always got drier in the spring, not the winter.

“Hm? Why?” Bakugou didn’t even glance up.

Uraraka shifted and made sure she didn’t disturb Kazumi. “For the future. What do think is going to happen to us?”

Bakugou shrugged and let go of her hand, rolling onto his back to look at the ceiling. “Dunno. We’ll beat the shit out of some villains and then we’ll come home to Nugget every night. Simple.”

Uraraka breathed a laugh. “You think we’ll be together in ten years or so? They say high school sweethearts don’t last.”

“Most high school sweethearts don’t have a fuckin’ kid, but here we are.” Bakugou glanced at her. “You doubtin’ us?”

Uraraka shook her head and burrowed into the pillow. “No. I’m done doubting. Only positivity from now on.”

“Hell yeah.”

A few beats passed and Uraraka pulled the nipple of the bottle from Kazumi’s parting lips, the toddler not even stirring. She was gently picked up and laid in her crib. Uraraka knew it would be more fair to give her, her own room but Uraraka liked having her close. Plus she had been spending more and more nights in Bakugou’s room anyway. Mitsuki had given up on them.

Bakugou was already out of the bed and shutting the lights off, turning the night light on so Kazumi wouldn’t get scared if she woke up. They made it across the hall, shutting the door behind him. Bakugou’s parents still weren’t home but they weren’t concerned with that right now.

“Do you think your mom will kick us out?”

Bakugou scoffed. “Fuckin’ probably. She’s a bitch. She said she was proud of you but I didn’t get shit. My dad did all the talking. I don’t think the old hag thought I would make it this far.”

Uraraka cupped his cheeks. “Well I’m proud of you, Bakugou Katsuki. You’re going to be an amazing hero.”

Bakugou grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Fuck yeah I am. And you’ll be right behind me. Fuck all those people who said you couldn’t do it.”

Uraraka nodded, determined. “Yeah!”

Bakugou chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. It was by no means chaste. This was a kiss that was meant to be more. Bakugou lifted her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist before depositing both of them onto the bed. When his shirt came off, Uraraka didn’t complain, even when hers followed.

It had been so long since they had been this close. They were still teenagers, teenagers who just graduated from the top heroic high school in the country. They were allowed to have a little fun before real life slapped them in the face and they would have to get it together, for themselves and for Kazumi.

#bakugou x uraraka

[influencedbyfear]

Impactful writers.

When I created Jonathan’s page over Tumblr, I wasn’t sure where to start. All that I knew was that I loved Jonathan Crane’s story arc, and I wanted to continue it. I was passionate about writing him and I wanted to convey it. I rebooted his page (from a separate platform) shortly after writing one (1) Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain and similar to his page, I started to pass along deep posts conveying depth of character through a psychological analysis. I made crude, short work of it all, but I was happy. I started to meet people, and my writing style shifted and evolved over time. 

I have a list of people that I truly appreciate, people I will always, always admire. You are all going to be the reason I want to try harder. I wanted to pause my work to extend my deepest appreciation and share your names and stories from my perspective to the dashboard and anyone reading. I realize now after writing all of what is down below that it tells a story of how this page came to be. I’m .. really happy lol. 

This list will grow, and I’m excited to see what happens next. 

@wouldyouliketoseemymask - I have very clear memory (amazingly) about starting with an attempt at using that exact URL for this page. Vexed that it was taken, I checked the link and found my source of addiction. You are a divine creator in your own right because your writing has me floored with each visit. I’ve spent hours on this link I once wanted to use for myself and just... realized, it was meant for you. It screamed (no pun intended) you. I love your page, I love how insightful you are, and whether or not you’re aware, you’re the one who helped me start this page off. When in doubt, I’d rush to your page to just look at pictures, to consider my options and follow through with what I truly wanted. I aspired to be just as great.  

@nctcricus - I dragged along one of my oldest friends with me to the world of Tumblr. But before Tumblr could witness my writing, this person in particular was the one to behold my attempts at gathering my characterization from day one. They were there upon my first post. This writer was around to welcome me with open arms into the DC community. We started with chatzy, I think? This writer was also the person I texted when I was in a wreck, right when I lost everything (memory wise) for a short while, going through the contacts. We experienced a lot, we watch films together, and the writer I only called ‘Bane’ turned into a contact that read ‘Extraordinary writer’ to differentiate them from the others. While we may not write as much as I’d like to, you are one of the few who knew me before the accident. You were my source of memories and you walked me through it all with a tight hold of the hand. Thank you, truly. I want to see you with me for the years ahead. 

@misskringle - Before there was Jonathan Crane on this great site, there was Norman Jayden, and I met you. I recall dragging you along with me to see Jonathan’s page and you gleefully followed me. It warmed my heart. Not everyone was pleased with the transition, but you supported my steps. I had you right there cheering me on, creating new storylines. I need to write with you as well, I want to write more with you. I want to support you in the many ways you supported me. You’re one of the greats out there and I want to share that with everyone. 

@camillelafaye​ - I’m not going to forget the day I met you. When I found myself in a rut, I changed direction again. I wrote that one guy who had a shit ending and a horrid death in an otherwise fascinating movie. I figured this would just be a ‘trivial’ page, something that wouldn’t last, but you captured my heart and I wanted to stay. I wanted to take you along on many adventures through my other muses as they were cast onto the wondrous world of Tumblr. You’re my queen, a shining star that inspires me to write at my best. You’re always appearing out of thin air to brighten my day and I can’t help but admire everything about you. 

@royalsadist - ONE OF THE ORIGINAL FOLLOWERS on Crane. Your writing was beyond what I could generate, and however intimidated I found myself, I knew what it was I truly wanted. You were so approachable despite writing such macabre pieces. You were a stunning writer that almost frightened me and out of nowhere,.. you reached out to me to compliment something I wrote... I gawked. yOU... YOU OF ALL PEOPLE. I wanted to impress you. You helped me along in ways I wish I could fully express. 

@bogisms - You helped me really get this page off the ground with unusual, morbid directions and inspired the darkest of ideas with practiced ease. You’re memorable in so many great ways, watching the direction of whatever I posted ascend to your great level. I look up to you. Bo is always missed, and I hope to beckon you right back for more gripping stories. 

@slavyanskayaten - Over time, I had a page that seemed appealing enough to invite others to join in on the bullshitery (it’s a word, alright?) that is Jonathan’s little world. I was convinced that I’d probably have carbon copies of story ideas when it came to Scarecrow facing off with figures of opposing moralities. You took that belief and knocked it down with grace. You gave me ideas that I never explored and helped me shape this character psychologically and without you, I wouldn’t have realized there’s more to Crane. You message me and I feel so welcome, I feel the urge to want to always share my thoughts and you counter with approval AND more to add. 

@murroyilodel​ - Certain encounters help shape how I act to this very day. I met YOU... you were (YOU STILL ARE) the sweetest writer. You have such a rare talent to bring out the best in every muse (this includes Jonathan), and you’ve developed so much in Esme. You have all of my respect. I’ve watched your page transform from one I’ll always admire to just... A DIAMOND. You’re extraordinary, and I want to show other writers the kindness you’ve showed me. I want to thank you for always being the shoulder I could lean on. Thank you for being you.   

@joshosis - You are the writer who brought me the first ship that had depth that was otherworldly, in a sense. I’ve dabbled in all forms of storylines with writers over the years, but you’ve stunned me with countless ideas and directions that can be taken. There was always something new. You delivered absolute excitement to ideas that we worked on together. I had not only a writing partner, shipping partner, and artist to speak with, I had a friend. I have it all, and I appreciate it. You created masterpieces with your work and I soon realized that with your passion for breathing life into your characters, Josh became my own favorite. You are someone that I trust, that I rely on when times aren’t entirely great.  I could share so much with you and never grow tired, we could gush about writing, Rami and Cillian, and our everyday lives. No other writer could incite the truest fears of Jonathan Crane, no one could truly bring me to legitimately tear up while writing this muse. You’re beyond talented, and I couldn’t be happier to have the opportunity to invest my time in such wondrous stories with you everyday. Fingers crossed that we continue to create new and invigorating things for the years ahead. 

@edhelaran​ - Back when I first started on Tumblr, I heard vaguely about the Tumblr Gods lol.  I viewed them as writers who were at the top of the game, capable of dishing out something virtually perfect withe every post. Every writer is unique, of course, but I genuinely viewed you as one of the very best writers out there. I was, of course, intimidated, but you (again omfg) went above and beyond, showing kindness at every turn. You’ve helped me through so much, you’ve provided me with comfort when I was lost, and I want to thank you for always reaching out. Plus... I freaking love the ideas we’ve come up with. You’re so genuine, and I hope to show everyone reading just how outstanding you really are. Thank you, truly. 

@princeisles / @offmysails - Okay I approached you out of hesitation because I required your help with icons after losing all of my information on this laptop... I never thought I’d be approaching a writer that would so easily bend my perception of how I see such outstanding characters. You brought to light what was so easily overlooked with a fiery passion that I thought I lost long ago and seeing it reignited my own interest in returning full time on Jon’s page. 

@cfriddles / @kjcllberg - Okay, I actually didn’t know you had a Jonathan page. You were the first writers to reach my side when disaster strikes, and you’ve even helped me with some of my favorite icons. You were never a ‘resource’ in my eyes, but a true friend who could appear at any moment to provide me with compelling discussions. Plus... YOU WRITE OUR FAVORITE BITCHFACE. (that’s Jon...) I adore you, and I’ll always be here for you. 

@webkisses​ - AHAHHHHFSDALKJSFD although you are new to my page, (I think?). Your kindhearted nature is infectious. Your exuberance to work with Jonathan inspired the excitement to write all over again. Admittedly, I considered taking another break for this muse (through Tumblr. I still had Discord). I wasn’t sure that I would have the passion I did when I first started. You took that uncertainty and nudged it off to the side. I’ve come to already adore Peter without watching the MOVIE. I haven’t even seen him in action and your dedication has converted me. You’re one of a kind, and I want you to always remember that. Thank you for helping me through the rut I thought I’d never escape. 

@jokeresques - I want to reserve this for last. Our meeting was so brief... but you’ve impacted me beyond what I could ever expect. I truly miss you. You expanded on the character that I never thought I could appreciate as much as other viewers. I miss you, I really do. I hope to write with you again, one day. I hope to see your work shine. I’m still banking on this idea of you returning because I was genuinely happy watching you create grand posts with such detail. I never knew what direction you would take our stories and I want to thank you for bringing me such a memorable portrayal. 

#this is a lot but ajlsfkdalksdfj #I want to just thank a few people #<3