#I imagine they’re like college/graduating college age because it just makes sense for this au
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i can take you there but baby you won't make it back
Y/N and Sirius are about to graduate college. she's never been to a proper college party before, but Sirius is determined to bring her out of her shell. They've known each other for years and they've always been just friends. But why does it feel different now? aka best friends (idiots) to lovers. modern!au
a/n okay so as a lil backstory - I had planned this as a whole 5 part series back in March. Like the first half of this has been written for months. I just got so busy with other things that i never got around to finishing it. However, I really did like the idea, so I just condensed it all and decided to make it one long one-shot! so if some details don't make sense it's because it was meant to be answered later in other parts so just ignore that, also it's written in 3rd person pov, I didn't feel like going back and editing it out, lol.
warnings/contains: NSFW smut: oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, just soft morning/first time (together) sex; insecurities; partying and everything that comes with it; drinking; mentions of puke; mentions of drugs; mentions of tattoos and tattoo needles, lots of sappy siri in love.
word count: 6.6k
masterlist
“Come on.”
“No, Sirius.”
“Why not? You never get out of your apartment. You’re in college for fuck’s sake, have some fun.” He fumbles with the keys to his apartment, cursing as he shifts the bags of groceries further into his arm as he unlocks his door.
“Because,” Y/N starts, following him inside. She toes off her shoes before setting the bags of Sirius’ groceries on the counter. “I don’t need to get drunk off my ass to have fun. That doesn’t even sound like fun to me.”
“Well then don’t get drunk,” he says with a shrug as he unloads the contents of the bags. He shuffles around the kitchen, putting his groceries in their designated spots. “It’s more fun to watch people who are drunk off their asses, anyway.”
She sighs, opening his pantry to put a jar of peanut butter away. It’s not that she doesn’t want to go to this party, it’s just that she’s never been to one before. Y/N’s heard horror stories of things happening at them; people getting hurt, cops getting called, and even though she’s of legal drinking age, she still has a fear of getting in trouble. “Still, I just don’t think I want to be around all that.”
Sirius drops his head back onto his shoulders and groans. “Oh my god, Y/N, just come already. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
They look at each other for a few seconds as she contemplates her answer. Y/N can’t lie and say she isn’t curious, and she knows her best friend will keep his word and stay by her side the whole night. And besides, she does want to have at least one college party experience before she graduates.
“Fine,” she tells him. She puts the empty grocery bags away and grabs her car keys. She slips her shoes back on as she gets ready to leave. “When is it?”
“Tonight.”
“Sirius!” Y/N’s eyes widen as she gapes at him. She would have liked a bigger heads up - she’s not a people person and she needs time to prepare herself for her first party. “What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at nine,” is all he says. His back is facing her so he doesn’t see when she flicks her middle finger up at him as she opens the door.
“‘Kay. See you.”
She huffs as she walks out of the building, squinting at the sunlight that streams in her eyes. She and Sirius have been friends since freshman year; he walked in late to their English class and took up the seat next to her. He asked for a pen, and ever since then the two of them have been best friends.
They’re seniors now, and as the date of their graduation grows near, she can’t help but wonder if this friendship will last outside of college. The two of them get along so well it’s hard to imagine that they would ever be apart. Their other friends always joke that they’re soulmates - even though neither of them believes in such - and that it was a shame they weren’t attracted to each other.
And it was true, she loved Sirius deeply, but definitely not in that way. Besides, it’s not like Sirius would go for her anyway; he’s so popular - has the most perfect long black hair that looks amazing tied in a bun, skin littered with tattoos, and a charismatic charm that gets him tons of friends.
Y/N on the other hand, she’s the opposite. She’s not loud and outgoing like her best friend; she’s quiet and timid, preferring to stay by herself rather than go out. She doesn’t like big crowds, they make her uneasy.
That’s one reason she looks up to Sirius so much, as much as she hates to admit it, she’s happy that he tries to bring her out of her shell. He’s spent years trying to get her to go with him to parties, but she worries too much and drunk people make her nervous.
Therein lies another difference, Sirius is a risk taker; Y/N preferring to stay on the sidelines and live vicariously through other people. She’s fine with staying home all the time and doesn’t see a point in the party lifestyle that Sirius seems to enjoy, but lately she’s been feeling as if she’s running out of time and she’s scared that one day she’ll regret not taking these opportunities as they come.
She wishes she was as bold as him.
---
She hears three knocks on her door at nine-thirty.
Yet again another difference between the two friends; Sirius is always late - fashionably, as he calls it - whereas Y/N is always at least fifteen minutes early to any event. Being late makes her anxious; she doesn’t want to feel like people are waiting on her.
She gets up from her couch where she’s been waiting ever since she finished getting ready over forty-five minutes ago (she’s not lying when she says she likes to be early!). She walks over to the door, stumbling slightly due to the wedges on her feet.
She doesn’t really dress up, like, ever, but she figures her first college party constitutes a cute outfit and she thinks she looks decent for someone who’s only worn t-shirts and leggings for the past couple of months.
She grabs the knob, twists, and pulls open the door, revealing the smiling face of Sirius Black. His eyebrows shoot up as he looks her up and down, and a whistle escapes his lips as his eyes meet hers again. “Well I’ll be damned, you’re really going all out, huh?”
She blushes slightly as she takes her time to look at him. He’s wearing an old AC/DC t-shirt that she’s sure he just woke up from taking a nap in as it’s all wrinkly, a black leather jacket on top, and ripped skinny jeans on his legs. His hair is pulled into a messy low bun, front pieces framing his face. He really is quite pretty, she thinks, and she meets his eyes as she replies, “I wanted to make a good first impression.”
“Oh yeah? With whom?” He leans against her door frame, arms crossed as he cocks his head to the side.
“I don’t know, just want people to like me,” she mumbles and Sirius frowns. He knows Y/N has a hard time making friends - she’s too quiet for her own good sometimes - and Sirius thinks maybe that’s why they get along so well. They’re complete opposites; Y/N hardly ever cursing whereas Sirius lets them slip past his lips almost every other word; He’s covered in tattoos whereas Y/N would probably pass out if a needle came anywhere near her skin (trust him, she’s gone with him to the tattoo parlor many times and every time, Y/N looks like she’s going to barf) but she loves the way they look on Sirius, always admiring them and telling him how pretty they are. Her favorite is one of a black dog on the back of his left shoulder.
Sirius sighs, reaching to hug his friend as he assures her, “Don’t worry about what people think of you, Y/N. If they don’t love you immediately then they’re not worth it.” He strokes her hair, careful not to mess up her hard work. He’s always attentive when it comes to her; Sirius values his friends more than anything, and his heart calls out to the anxious girl.
Y/N takes a deep breath, and she can smell his cologne, a spicy, citrusy scent and the faint smell of cigarettes. Another difference; Sirius smokes, and it makes Y/N gag. He never smokes around her unless he’s stressed or angry, and Y/N’s thankful.
He really is a great friend.
---
They arrive at the party; it’s at some random econ major’s house, but it’s huge, and when Y/N walks in, her jaw drops.
Immediately upon walking in the front door they enter a big room with high ceilings and a chandelier in the center. The room is crowded - bodies moving along to a sensual song playing from speakers set up in the corners of the room. Everyone has a plastic cup in their hand, taking sips every so often as they bounce to the rhythm of the music. Y/N can see people playing beer-pong in the other room, players yelling loudly when they make a shot. She doesn’t realize she’s cringing until she feels Sirius’ hand on her lower back, looking at her with concern etched into his features.
“Okay so far?” He pushes her with his hand on her back into the other room, and Y/N guesses it’s the living room as there are a couple of couches and a TV set up where a bunch of guys are watching a football game.
Y/N nods her head slowly, taking in the scenes around her. Other than the people dancing in the main room, she sees a couple sitting at the bottom of the stairs engaged in a very messy lip lock. She looks to her left and sees a small poker table filled with people laughing and taking sips from beer bottles. As they enter the kitchen she sees people sitting atop the counter, laughing and drinking what she assumes to be punch from a bowl that’s on top of the counter.
“You want a drink?” Sirius asks her as he grabs a cup. He knows she probably doesn’t, knows she’s probably rethinking her decision to even come here in the first place, but he asks anyway.
“Um - I don’t know. What is that?” she asks, pointing to the punch.
“No idea, probably vodka and some fruit juice. S’usaually what Adam makes, anyway.”
Y/N wrinkles her nose; she’s never really been a huge fan of liquor like that, the only thing she really drinks are the fruity six-pack ones that are mainly just sugar that Sirius buys for her.
But she really wants to try to fit in, so she nods her head. “Okay.”
Sirius nods before he fills her cup. “Here, I only put a little in case you didn’t like it.”
Y/N gives him a small smile as she grabs the cup, lifts it to her lips, and takes a sip. She swallows, and it burns, most definitely not like the fruity drinks she’s used to. It makes her shiver, and Sirius laughs at the look on her face.
“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna.”
“I’m fine,” she says, and she watches him as he fills his own cup. He takes a sip, but unlike Y/N he doesn’t make a face. He goes to these parties all the time, so she’s sure he’s used to Adam’s punch by now.
“Whatever you say,” he replies, looking around the room. It looks as if he’s trying to decide where to go next, and Y/N desperately hopes he doesn’t leave her alone.
She looks around the kitchen once more. It’s messy, empty cups are thrown everywhere, spills of punch and beer on the counter and floor. The whole house smells of weed and alcohol, and Y/N is kind of regretting her decision to come. It’s definitely how she’d imagined parties to be - loud and crowded - but she’s just not reacting to it how she thought she would. She thought inebriated people would be more forthcoming, welcoming her and she had always heard that drunk girls were always the nicest, but except for a few smiles and waves as they entered the house, no one has really spoken to them.
Y/N is brought out of her thoughts by Sirius’ arm draping over her shoulders as he greets a friend. She looks up at the man - he’s almost as tall as Sirius - and gives him a small smile as his eyes meet hers.
“And who is this?” the man asks, eyes barely open as she’s sure he’s heavily intoxicated.
“This is Y/N,” Sirius says, and his tone is more annoyed than Y/N expected it to be. She looks over at him with furrowed brows but Sirius stares straight at the man, jaw clenching in aggravation.
“Hi,” she says to the man, and she feels Sirius’ arm twitch around her.
“Hey,” the man’s smile widens, and Y/N notices he’s missing a couple of teeth. He’s definitely not somebody she would hang around with otherwise - although technically neither is Sirius - but she can tell straight away that this man is bad news. He’s wearing a plain black shirt with holes in it, and not the deliberate kind in the shirts that Sirius wears often, but these are big ugly holes that show way too much of his belly than Y/N wants to see. It’s covered in some sort of liquid and she can smell it from here. His pants are also wet, and she notices he’s not wearing shoes and now it makes sense why Sirius is annoyed.
He’s been protective of Y/N since the beginning, especially after she came to his door crying one night after a bad date with a guy who was mean to her. Every time Y/N tells him she’s talking to someone else, Sirius will roll his eyes and tell her “don’t make me have to kick another poor dude’s ass.”
Y/N doesn’t ask him to be this way, but she’s glad he is; she’s an only child and has always been jealous of her friend’s older brothers who would be protective over them.
“I’m Adam,” the guy - Adam - says. He gives her a nod, and Sirius sighs loudly through his nose as he tugs Y/N along with him to the other room. He doesn’t even offer a goodbye to Adam.
“This isn’t what I was expecting,” she tells him.
Sirius barks out a laugh, flashing his pretty white teeth at her as he replies. “Yeah? What were you expecting?”
Y/N shrugs against his arm that’s still over her shoulders. “Dunno. Just something else.”
“Are you okay, though?” He questions, protective Sirius making a return. “Do you want to leave?”
“No, no,” She shakes her head, grabbing the arm around her, giving it a squeeze. “‘M okay, really. Just need to adjust.” She lifts the cup to her lips once more, taking a bigger sip than last time. She still shivers, though not as much, and she can swear she already feels a light buzz coming on. She’s a lightweight, that’s for sure.
Sirius still looks skeptical - he doesn’t really believe her - but she’s grown, he thinks, and she’ll tell him when she’s ready to leave.
“Okay then.”
So they spend the night like that, glued to each other’s side as Sirius talks to his friends. Most of them Y/N’s met before, they’ve had one or more classes together at some point.
As the night goes on she continues drinking, even trying a sip of beer (although she doesn’t really like it, thinks she’ll stick to her fruity punch), and she never complains, not even once!
She’s very proud of herself.
---
They’ve been here going on two and a half hours now, and Y/N is feeling great. She’s had more of this tasty punch than she can remember, although it’s kind of lost it’s taste now and she thinks that’s weird. And the people are so much nicer now! Or maybe it’s just Y/N, since she hasn’t been able to shut up for the past hour. She says hi to any and everybody she comes into contact with, and Sirius thinks it’s adorable. He even let her play a game of beer pong!
He’s never seen Y/N like this; sure, he’s seen her drunk before, but that was when it was just the two of them at each other’s apartment. But Y/N is full on drunk now, giggling at anything and everything happening in the room. Her eyes are half-lidded and she hiccups randomly, and Sirius prays she doesn’t puke. He doesn’t want her to get embarrassed at her first party, and he’s internally scolding himself for letting her get this intoxicated.
A couple of Sirius’ friends are standing with them; three guys who Sirius has gotten close with over his college years. There’s James, a pretty brunette with round glasses who’s super funny and sweet. Remus is standing next to James; he’s probably the most similar to Y/N, he’s on the quieter side but make no mistake - he’s just as mischievous as the rest of them. Lastly there’s Peter, and Y/N has always been confused by his friendship with the other boys; he never really talks, just seems to go along with everything the other boys do.
Y/N isn’t really aware of the interaction, she’s too busy watching the latest game of beer pong, jumping up and down as her new friend Christian makes a cup. She grabs a hold of the front of Sirius’ shirt as she looks up at him. “Did y’see that, Siri?”
And she has this bright smile on her face, genuine happiness showing through her features over a stranger's shot, and Sirius can’t help but smile and nod his head. His chest is warm, and he can feel his cheeks heat up as his best friend smiles at him. He’s confused; doesn’t know where these feelings are coming from.
Y/N’s hands are still fisted in his shirt, her eyes focused on the intense game ahead. He can tell she’s getting tired, leaning the majority of her weight on him and he wraps his other arm around her front to keep her steady.
Later, when Sirius thinks back to this night, it’s this moment - bringing Y/N to this party full of people that are nothing like her, holding her close as a means to protect her and keep her safe - that changed everything for him.
And that scares him more than anything.
---
Sirius had left Y/N outside while he used the bathroom. He told her to wait by the door, but her new friend Chritsian had come up and started talking to her after he finished his game of beer pong and invited her to sit outside with him.
Sirius had to give him some threatening words of advice; something that went along the lines of “if you so much as lay a finger on her or try to take her away from here, I’ll break your fucking nose.”
Needless to say, Christian got the memo and promised the two of them would be sitting on the grass watching people play cornhole.
That’s where Sirius found them - well, found Y/N - once he walked out of the sliding glass doors into the backyard.
The backyard was a nice, fenced in area with shrubs along the edges and a nice sized pool in the center. There weren't many people around - it was well after midnight and many people had made their way home.
Y/N was sitting with her knees tucked into her chest, arms wrapped around them as her head was tipped back looking to the stars. The anger Sirius felt towards the bastard who left her alone dissipated as he watched her observe the night sky. He stood there for a couple minutes; he’s never taken the time to actually look at her, never watched her in a quiet moment such as this.
He realizes he probably looks like a creep, staring at this poor drunk girl, so he decides it’s time to call it a night. He makes his way to her with a small grin on his face.
“Come on, time t’go,” Sirius says as he reaches a hand out to her.
Y/N shakes her head no furiously, she feels so good; so light and floaty, and why is Sirius trying to ruin that?
“Don’t wanna,” she replies, still shaking her head. Sirius sighs as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Stop shaking your head like that, you’ll puke everywhere.”
She frowns but stops shaking her head, “‘M havin’ fun.” Her words are slurred, blending together and Sirius can barely make them out.
“You can have fun back at your apartment, Y/N. ‘S time t’go.” Sirius doesn’t reach out this time, instead grabs her wrists and pulls her up with him.
“Heyyyyy,” she pouts, jutting her bottom lip out. Her eyes are closed, Sirius reckons she can hardly keep them open. “Please don’t make me leave. ‘M having fun! Isn’t that what you wanted?” She opens her eyes then, still pouting, and the look has the air catching in Sirius’ lungs.
His heartbeat picks up and he forgets how to speak for a moment. She looks so genuinely upset that Sirius wants to get her home and of course he wanted her to have a good time tonight, but it’s past one in the morning at this point and while he could easily stay up later, he knows she will be thankful for him carrying her home at a decent (ish) time.
“Of course, bug, but ’s really late, and I need t’get you home.” He tucks her underneath his arm and makes his way to his car. He shakes his head, asking himself what the hell that feeling was back there. He just couldn’t think, she looked so cute pouting like that, and all he wanted to do was lean in and plant a sweet kiss on her bottom lip.
He’s sure it’s just the alcohol running through his system - it has to be. He’s never looked at her as anything more than a friend. Sure, he’d do anything for her, go to the ends of the earth to make her happy, but that’s just what friends do, right?
And then it hits Sirius, a feeling embedded in the fragments of his soul, that he loves her. Not like in the way he tells her often, because he does - every day almost - but he’s in love with her.
It should surprise him; he’s never thought about her as anything more than a friend - not until tonight night at least - but it doesn’t.
He thinks he’s loved her all along.
---
“Here y’go m’lady,” Sirius announces as he opens the door to Y/N’s apartment.
She’s half-asleep, barely standing as Sirius guides her through the living room and to her bedroom. She’s tripping over her feet as her eyes are closed and she’s trusting Sirius with her safe journey to her bed.
Sighing loudly, Sirius sets Y/N down on her bed, bending down to remove the shoes from her feet.
“Canyoutakem’makeupoffplease,” Y/N slurs, her words are quiet and meshed together and Sirius has to decipher them for a moment before he responds.
“Sure,” he tells her, standing to his feet and making his way to the bathroom to grab her makeup remover. He returns and sits beside her on the bed as he grabs her face in one hand and a makeup cloth in the other. Y/N turns her head towards him, looking up at him with glossy eyes.
Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes catching hers, and the knot in his chest returns. He looks at her, really looks at her - her mascara started to run earlier in the night and it creates smudges underneath her eyes, black flecks strewn across her skin.
But Sirius thinks she looks beautiful like this - perfectly ruffled and not pristine whatsoever. He’s confused because of course he knew she was beautiful, but when did she get this beautiful?
“Close your eyes,” He whispers, raising the cloth to wipe at the remaining makeup on her skin.
Y/N complies, humming lightly as Sirius works to cleanse her skin. Her mind is buzzing - she’s so sleepy - but she also feels like she could stay up all night. Is this how parties always make people feel?
“Did you have a good time?” Sirius asks her, gently swabbing underneath her eyes.
“Mhm!” Y/N answers, opening her eyes. “It was super fun! I liked the punch, and I made tons of new friends, did you see?” She smiles, face lighting up as she recalls her night.
And Sirius can’t help but return the smile, chest warming at her happy visage. He’s happy he brought her tonight, proud he’s slowly bringing her out of her shell. She’s always been so important to him; someone who wormed their way into his extremely private heart and made a home in his chest. He sighs as he gets up from the bed, mind running, taunting him about the various revelations he’s had tonight. He knew he loved her, but when did he fall in love with her?
“Where y’goin?” Y/N yawns, hand slapping against her face as she brings it up to block her mouth. She giggles, scrunches her face up at herself and Sirius feels as if his chest is going to explode.
���Gonna go home now, bug,” he tells her, walking to her bathroom to put her things away. He hears her whine as he washes his hands; he looks into the mirror at himself - dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, hair a mess from where Y/N grabbed ahold of it as he carried her to his car. He sighs again, watching as his chest puffs out and back down again. He’s broken out of his trance from the water turning hot; the scorching temperature making his heart jump as he yanks his hands back. He dries them off before walking back into Y/N’s bedroom, eyes finding her’s as she looks at him from under the covers, her body a cocoon; the only thing visible of her is from her nose up.
He can’t help the way his lips tug upwards, eyes narrowing in a genuine smile the longer he looks at her. He walks over to her, brings a hand to brush against her forehead before his lips take their place, placing a delicate peck to the center of her skin a bit longer than he probably would do on any other day. He straightens his back out as he stands, opens his mouth to speak before her arm shoots out of the covers to grab at his hands.
“Stay,” she says, lowering the covers so it shows her pout, knowing Sirius has a hard time saying no to that. “Please.”
Sirius has a moment of internal panic - he’s just realized he’s in love with his best friend, and now she wants him to stay the night with her. He knows that if he sleeps here tonight the feelings will only fester more intensely, will bubble and build up until they’re pouring out of his lips and he won’t be able to take them back. Sirius Black is not a shy person - most people would say he’s the opposite - but what the hell is she doing to him?
Maybe it’s because he holds Y/N’s opinions in higher regard than others. There’s not many people that he’s this close to, so he doesn’t give a shit what they think. But Y/N; her opinion matters so much to him - everything she does matters to him, he’s realizing - and he can’t risk losing her, no fucking way.
“I’ll be on the couch,” he decides, grabbing the blankets to bring back up her arms, tucking her snugly back into the bed. And because he can’t resist, he leans down and presses another kiss to her forehead, let’s his lips linger on her skin as he whispers, breath fanning across her skin, and she shivers despite the covers. “Good night.”
---
As soon as he wakes, he makes breakfast. His hangover is not as strong as he’s sure Y/N’s is, but he makes food enough for two anyway. He pours a glass of water before tiptoeing into her bedroom, kicking against the door softly with one foot as a warning before he’s coming in, peering onto the bed to see Y/N’s sleeping frame.
She’s facing him, still wrapped up in her blankets, face devoid of any creases and wrinkles as it is during the day with her usual expressions.
Sirius looks at her for a moment, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth before he makes his way to her bed. He sets the food and water on the bedside table before he leans back over to place another kiss to her unmarred forehead. He could barely sleep; mind reliving every moment the two of them have had before, trying to pinpoint the moment where friendship turned to something more - at least for him.
But he couldn’t place it. It’s just as if he’s felt them from the moment they met. Or as if they slowly built up that he couldn’t decide a single tipping point for them. He slowly got acclimated to the way that she drinks her coffee, or the face she makes when she finds something annoying, or the way she smiles when she finds something she likes on sale. He fell in love with them all, one at a time.
He watches as her eyes peel open, one after the other, and squint through the morning light that streams through the curtains. She groans, breaks her arms out of her cocoon as she stretches, groan breaking into a yawn as she wakes her limbs up.
Once she settles she grimaces, eyes squeezing shut as a moan of pain escapes her lips. Y/N looks back up to Sirius, “Ow.”
He realizes he must look stupid, just standing at the side of her bed staring, so he clears his throat and picks up the glass of water, “Here, drink.”
Y/N lifts herself into a seated position, rests her back against her headboard as she takes the glass from Sirius’ hand. Her shaky hand brings the drink to her lips and she chugs, drops slipping down her chin and onto the blankets in her lap.
“How y’feelin’?” Sirius questions, taking a seat next to her. He studies her as she gulps the rest of her drink down, giving Sirius back the glass. He holds it in his hand, fingertips pressed against the cool material as she answers.
“Little queasy,” she crinkles her nose, bringing the covers back up as she returns to her lying position. She looks at Sirius, “Wanna lay w’me? We can watch a movie.”
Sirius nods his head, habit sneaking it’s way into his system. They’ve done this countless times before, laying in the same bed, only a few feet apart, but now it feels too crowded.
He lies with her anyway, snatching half of the cover for himself. They’re both still in their clothes from last night and Sirius cringes, they probably smell like a dumpster.
Y/N doesn’t seem to notice though, scooting closer until their elbows touch, turning her head to him, “What do you want to watch?”
And her face is so close to his that he can’t help but to reach out to her, cupping her cheek in his big hand as he studies her face. She’s so close and he’s never been so in love before.
She furrows her brows, confusion etching her features. She whispers, “Siri?”
And it’s that stupid nickname that makes him do it, the one that he would never in a million years let anyone call him but this beautiful girl in front of him that pushes his head forward until their lips are centimeters apart, breath fanning across each other’s faces. He pauses then, takes a deep breath and when he realizes that she isn’t pulling back he eliminates the last bit of distance between them.
He kisses her hard because he’s tired of waiting, kisses her harder because he wanted to do this last night. And when her tongue licks at the seam of his lips he kisses her even harder because he realizes she’s wanted this too. Their tongues meet in the middle, tasting each other for the first time and then all bets are off; their hands grab at each other’s body, holding tightly onto each other because they’re finally getting what they wanted. And they’re not letting go any time soon.
They kiss as they remove their clothes, one article at a time, barely pausing to gaze at the other’s body before they’re kissing again, deep and passionate like they’re ashamed of all the time that they’ve wasted.
His kisses feel like home. His lips, the way they travel from her mouth to her cheek, from her jaw to her shoulder, planting little seeds of him within her bones; pieces that will root him into her like she did to him when she didn’t even realize it. He kisses her skin hard, leaving bruises with his delicate lips, burning her skin as they pass along her collar bone.
His lips travel to her breasts and he holds them with his hands, presses his face in between them and breathes her in. Maybe he’s trying to memorize her scent like he’s memorized everything else about her. Maybe what everyone said about them was right. Maybe they are soulmates.
His lips encase one of her sensitive buds, tongue flicking against it before his teeth catch onto it. He faintly hears her cry out, barely recognizes the feeling of his hair being pulled as a groan slips through his lips. He sucks her nipple, gently at first, and then when he hears the heavenly gasp she lets out he sucks harder, thumb pressing onto the other one as she mewls. Her back arches, pushing her breasts onto Sirius’ face and he growls, uses his arms to trap her back onto the bed.
He lavishes her breasts until he’s had his fill, sucks and bites both of them until they’re covered in the evidence of his presence. He continues his path downwards, nipping along the skin again, admiring every piece of flesh he runs across because it’s hers and it deserves the praise.
He’s angry that it took him so long to realize; that he’s had to wait this long to kiss all the soft, rounded spots of Y/N’s body, but as long as he gets to hear the whimpers she lets out as he presses his hand against her cunt for the rest of his life he thinks he’ll be okay. He cups her pussy, presses his heel down onto her clit as he sucks the inside of her thigh, and flicks his fingers through her slit. He feels how wet she’s become - how wet he’s made her - and she cries out as Sirius teeth pierce her flesh.
“Sirius,” oh, her voice sounds so breathless and it makes Sirius groan, makes him remove his hand so he can replace it with his mouth, tonguing the area where his fingers just were, collecting her slick on his taste buds. He licks into her core, tongues around her gummy walls and hears her keen, hands making a home in his hair. She tugs at the roots and Sirius groans.
He buries his face in her pussy, licks into her so hard she’s squirming under him. His hands plant her bottom half firmly into the mattress so that she’s only able to arch her back, cry to the ceiling as his tongue works against her. Next time he can go slow but he just wants her now, he’s so tired of thinking about how he could’ve done this sooner and instead worried about how much the two of them can do it later. Because now that he has Y/N, he’s not letting her go.
He brings his tongue to her clit as his fingers slip into her core, curling upwards as his tongue curls around her nerves, popping the bud between his lips as his fingers begin to pump. She’s not pushing his head away anymore, no, now she’s pulling him in; holding his head firmly in place as her hips stutter upwards to meet his fingers.
He pumps his fingers fast, one at first and then adding two, scissoring them within her to hear the way she chokes on a gasp, the way she tries to cover her mouth because she’ll wail if she doesn’t. The only words leaving her lips are his name and little oh’s when he curls his fingers and hits that extra sensitive spot on the roof of her core.
She cums once this way, her body seizing up and thighs closing around Sirius’ head as her cunt flutters around Sirius’ fingers, clit pulsing against his tongue as he licks against it. He travels back up her body the same way he descended it, kissing against her soft skin until he reaches her mouth, licking against her teeth before he meets her tongue, feeling the vibrations from the groan she lets out at her own taste.
He takes his cock into his hand, pumps himself a couple of times before he slips it inside of her, the pair gasping into each other’s mouths, her from the stretch of Sirius’ thick length, and Sirius from Y/N’s hot core squeezing him tight as he settles within her. His whole body grows warm as she acclimates to his size, the two of them still engaged in a heavy liplock, his hair between her fingers.
When he does move it’s electric; his whole body feels as if it’s on fire, pleasure sweeping up his spine at the way he drags his cock out of her, slow and soft; nice and even.
They move together, her hips chasing his as he pulls out, both of them joining together again almost immediately after. They’re whimpering and moaning too much to kiss now, settling for resting their foreheads against one another as they watch where they’re joined. Sirius is covered in chills from head to toe, body moving on it’s own accord as her cunt gushes around him, the way she holds onto him tightly and cries out his name every time his cock hits that spot within her has him on edge, so close to falling apart at her fingertips. Does she know that she has him in the palms of her hands? Surely she does, if the way she scratches her nails against his back as she climbs the ladder to ecstasy is any indicator.
She makes it there a couple of thrusts later, clamping down on his sensitive cock, crying out his name over and over like it’s the only thing she knows. She’s holding onto him like she never wants to let go, and Sirius doesn’t think he’d care if she never did.
And then he’s right there with her, balls tightening as waves roll up his spine, knocking the breath out of him as he takes himself out of her, grabbing onto his cock and tugging until he’s emptied all of his seed onto her belly.
He kisses her again, harder this time now that he can breathe, and holds onto her as they calm down from their highs. They lie like that for a while, unbothered that they’re both sticky with cum because there’s plenty of time to clean up later. They’ll probably be even dirtier soon.
Sirius doesn’t stop kissing her. He never wants to remove his lips from Y/N’s pillowy one’s, never wants to forget the way her sighs feel as they bounce off of his mouth.
He’s not sure where they’ll end up after graduation - whether it will be together or apart - but they’re together now, so he’ll make the most of every moment.
tags: @crazypantlady, @hufflepuffsfordraco, @eunoia-kth, @ashlovesthemarauders, @siriuslyslyslytherin, @i-cant-stfu, @livs-xx, @emma67, @siriuslyblackblog, @irlpadfoot, @brattypeony, @juniebugg, @ftwert, @whaddyam3an, @m925, @alyathewhore, @wolfstar4lifee, @kaqua, @padfootswife, @pottahishotasf, @mackaywhore, @safetyhtom, @greengarsstuff, @chocolatesupplier, @azura-mist, @lunajoyce3, @hi-there-x, @bananas1234, @simpforremuslupin, @sprucewoodlover, @sunrisefairy, @partr1dge, @slutforremus19, @bby-camera, @ahsluva, @crucioonapussyhoe, @harrypottersslvt, @marimorena06, @medalloway-blog, @Cranberryc0caine, @set-myself-on-fire, @imjustanothernerd, @midnightmusings-et-moi, @harrypotter5sosslut, @teamleo2023, @princess-jules47, @666cookies, @kiaslily, @justmesadgirl, @wonderland-obrien, @remugoodgirl, @thebiggestsimponearth, @gxllqrie, @siriusblackwifeeey, @1800-SHUTUP, @xtoothlessx, @lunaiswifey, @kermiemoon
#sirius black#sirius black smut#sirius black x you#sirius black fic#sirius black x y/n#sirius black fanfiction#tw alcohol#tw weed#marauders#sirius black imagine#sirius black x reader#marauders era smut#tw: smut#harry potter smut#sirius black blurb#sirius black one shot
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the one; l.ty
Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader
Themes: exes! au, best friends to nothing, exes to nothing, college! ish au because they’re graduating, the angst is a very subtle type but its still pretty heavy
Warnings: unrequited love, heavy angst, mentions of kissing and food (ice cream)
Wc: 1.6k
Playlist: the 1 by taylor swift, closure by taylor swift, 2 kids by taemin, dancing after death by Matt Maeson
Authors note: this is a deleted scene from my fic, favorite crime! (which you should go read. please lmao but also because it will give this story even more context) i have altered it so it sort of works as a oneshot? Anyways, I hope you like it<3
You know the greatest loves of all time are over now
~
When you’re younger, you’re told to live your life to the fullest, to enjoy your youth. You’re seen as naive and and wide eyed at the world around you. When you’re younger you’re allowed to make those stupid mistakes and mess up, because people look past them.
But some mistakes, everyone but yourself can look past. These type of mistakes could haunt you for the rest of your life with every little thing you do. The what ifs.
And when you’re young, even though you have so much of your life left to enjoy, you can’t ever go back and fix them. They were permanent, like a life long promise, or a tattoo inked into your skin. You would never be able to escape them, even if you moved on.
At age twenty one, standing in front of your full length mirror donning your graduation cape, you had already made one of these mistakes, and it weighed you down everyday, simply because the reminder of it all was just a window away.
You glanced through your window, seeing him there, doing the same thing as you were, trying to adjust his tie. If you hadn’t been so stupid, then the two of you would have been getting ready together, you would be the one tying his tie and he would be the one teasing you about how your your cap was too big for you.
You let a smile brief your lips, before looking away. Even though you were no longer staring at him, you knew exactly what he was, the image burned into your mind. Bleached blond hair still messy no matter how much he tried to tame it, his bright eyes that seemed to hold the universe and that intoxicating smile.
Your biggest mistake was falling in love with the boy who never loved you back.
And how you had fallen, hook, line and sinker for him. Taeyong was the object of your affections, your best friend- well former best friend. That was where your mistake came in.
You foolishly let it happen, a relationship of sorts with him. At first, it was everything you had ever wanted, but that slowly started turning into a nightmare you wanted to wake up from. Sometimes you still wonder if you’re in a nightmare.
The two of you worked so well together, because you had known each other since you were four. He knew all your flaws, had seen you at your worst and at your best. You would have never thought he would be the cause of one of your worst moments.
But Taeyong, he wasn’t in love with you, but rather, was infatuated. Infatuated with the idea of love and loving you. Once he figured that out, he did the right thing and told you, effectively breaking up with you.
You lost your best friend and lover all at once. It was painful being around him, because you were still in love with him. He had been your everything, and now you had nothing at all. He slipped through your fingers like sand on a beach.
You hadn’t talked to him since that night he told you the truth. You made an effort to not look at him through your window, because it would just break your heart more. You had never known what it was to be heartsick until you experienced it yourself, and extremely violently.
He didn’t push it either, giving you your space. And while this helped you heal, it also felt so wrong. From spending almost every moment together, to spending no time at all, your lives had completely changed.
For some, love was a breeze, it gave them a fuzzy warm feeling that they wanted to hold onto forever. For you, love hurt like a bitch.
You couldn’t help but think about what could have been, if he had actually loved you. Or if you never indulged in what you wanted and just stayed friends. Sometimes- no, all the time, you wished that had happened instead. You were fine with loving him quietly.
Another part of you, the more selfish part, wished he never realized he didn't love you. You would have been fine living that way, but that was only thinking about yourself. You deserved to know, and he deserves that freedom.
What if?
Falling into love is easy, especially with someone like Taeyong. He was the most beautiful guy you had ever seen, with the kindest heart you could think of. You had fallen when you were merely seventeen, still in high school.
No, it was the falling out of love part that was harder. After loving someone for as long as you had loved him, you couldn't imagine ever loving anyone else. The sheer thought of it didn't make sense to you.
So what if you were still with him, what if you never lost him. What if he was still your best friend through thick and thin?
Snapping out of your thoughts, you made one last adjustment to your graduation cap and sighed, scanning yourself over in the mirror. Deeming yourself presentable, you walked out of your apartment, jogging down the stairs of the building and reaching the ground level.
You were hitching a ride with your friend Ryunjin, who was arguably the world's worst driver but you didn't really have a choice. If you did, you would be going with Taeyong, but well, that wasn't going time happen.
You yourself couldn't drive, simply because you were too scared of accidently killing someone. Taeyong had even tried to teach you how to drive when the two of you were dating, but it was discovered that you were probably even worse than Ryunjin.
A few traumatized minutes of the drive to campus later, you found yourself lost in a sea of students that were also graduating with you. Thankfully you had a few friends, but it was still pretty overwhelming.
The ceremony itself was a blur, of you were being completely honest. You saw your friends get called up on stage and receive their scrolls. Ryunjin flashes an awkward peace sign at the principal because she shook his hand, Ten did a happy dance after, and Renjun pretended to click a picture.
You saw Taeyong go up there and receive his scroll, a bright smile on his face, a smile you so loved. You clapped for him, a proud, yet bittersweet smile gracing your features.
And soon it was you up there, and after you had gotten your scroll and take your picture, it had literally turned blurry. You didn’t realize you were tearing up until a wave of emotions crashed over you. You had finally graduated, you were out of this place after four years.
You hated change, despised it even. Now you were thrust out into the world, gone was the familiarity of attending classes and parties with your friends. First you lost your best friend, now you’d probably lose most of your other friends. It wasn’t as if all of you were going to stay in the town, you had first hand experience of this when your friend Yeji graduated the year before and moved away.
You were so young, so naive and yet it felt as if you couldn’t hold on to a single moment long enough. How were you supposed to enjoy your youth then? You were slowly loosing everything.
Sucking in a deep breath, you composed yourself, a laugh escaping you when Ryunjin practically threw herself onto you in a hug of celebration. You quickly wiped your tears so no one saw them, smiling.
Turning around to talk to another friend, your eyes met Taeyong’s. He was much further away from you, but you knew it was him, you’d always know him. He didn’t break the contact, a small smile appearing on his lips as me mouthed something.
‘I’m proud of you’
You mustered up the best smile you could, repeating the same things silently so that only he would know it. Pressing your lips together pacified, you once again accepted that it was over. You had accepted it so many times, but you had to keep reminding yourself.
With one last look in his direction, you raised your hand up, curling your fingers into a fist before bringing it down to your chest, right over your heart. His smile only grew as he gave you an affectionate wave. Best friends after all, you knew each other like the back of your hands.
And then everyone tossed their caps into the air, as cheers resounded through the hall. Laughter and chattering filled the area, and you knew it would be alright in the end.
You accepted the fact that Taeyong would haunt all your what-ifs, even as you tried to move on. All the kisses at midnight and late night talks out on your adjoining roofs, the long drives and ice cream dates- it was a thing of the past.
And yes, it still hurt when you recalled all the beautiful things that had happened with your time with him, the way the two of you were so beautiful.
It simply wasn’t meant to be, even if you were still in love with him. Heck, you were sure you’d always be in love with Taeyong, a part of your heart would be reserved for him and him only, but it was time to let go. You weren’t okay right now, but you’d learn to be okay.
Still, it would have been fun if he had been the one.
fin.
#taeyong x reader#kpopscape#kokonomi#ankathia#nctcreations#neowritingsnet#cznnet#nct-writers#lee taeyong x reader#nct taeyong x reader#nct 127 scenarios#nct#taeyong imagines#taeyong scenarios#taeyong angst
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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 - 𝐥.𝐦𝐤
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mark lee x y/n (ft. minor appearances of johnny)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au, aged down mark
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: mark said forever, even in his songs, but you should have known better. based off of olivia rodrigo’s new single, drivers license.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, i’m sorry in advance
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): cheating/infidelity, heartbreak
𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: drivers license - olivia rodrigo
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k
𝐚/𝐧: this was finished at 2 am again, so please excuse me if this is incoherent 😌 also, i changed around the order of some lyrics and deleted some sections to fit the story, so it’s not 100% the same. feedback is always welcomed!
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @nakamotocore, @astroboy-lele, @infnteen (comment here to be added!)
it was always so simple. even though mark was a year older, you guys planned it out. same university, same program, just different years. as simple as that. or so you thought.
i got my driver's license last week
just like we always talked about
'cause you were so excited for me
to finally drive up to your house
but today i drove through the suburbs
crying 'cause you weren't around
mark started meeting you less often when he entered college. you didn’t think much of it, people always said the first year of college was the hardest. you just assumed the workload was catching him off-guard and he was too busy.
you didn’t tell him about getting your driver’s license. you wanted to surprise him. and you thought that if he was too busy, you’ll just go and visit him instead. before mark graduated, you guys would always be sneaking out at the crack of dawn in his white volkswagen, driving to the nearest mcdonalds, ordering whatever you craved. no cares or worries in the world.
“hey, when are you going to get your license anyways?” mark asked you one night. “i’m always the one driving, am i your personal chauffeur or something?”
“hmm, what if you are?” you tease him. mark shoots daggers at you. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding! maybe next year, when i turn 18.”
“i’m excited.” he leaned back into his seat. “you’d be able to visit me whenever.”
“i’d annoy you.” you snort. he chuckles and playfully hits you.
“you know you’d never.” he looks at you, like he really meant it.
but he didn’t. because now, tears flow down your face as you drive home in your car from mark’s university.
and i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one
and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone
guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me
'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street
mark was always super passionate about songwriting. and when you guys were introduced to each other in guitar club of your freshman year, he finally found a companion to confide his interest in. when you guys snuck out, he would always bring his computer, speakers, and guitar. he’d play you the demos and songs that he had made and would want your opinions on them.
“how does it sound?” he asked you, pressing pause on his computer. it was the last day before the summer of freshman year for you, and he said he wanted to show you ‘something special’.
“yeah it’s pretty good, i think you could do a more complex guitar riff though? it would sound sick if you used E minor and riffed off onto the E major.” you suggested and turned to face mark’s smiling face. “what are you staring at?” you poked him.
“i wrote this about you, you dummy.” he flicked your forehead. “could you not tell?”
“ow, no?” you rubbed to soothe where he flicked you. “its too cheesy, and ‘that sun shining on me, my heart alive and breathing i want only one with you, all the things you make me do for you’? nah, mark lee has a little crush on someone.” you wiggled your eyebrows.
“yeah,” you whipped your head around. “you.” your brain stopped and all you feel is your heartbeat racing. you had never been romantically interested in mark, only friends. but that day changed it all.
“ayo, stop playing the innocent freshman girl.” you huff out. “i have a weak heart.” he taps your chin and turns your face back around.
“dude, i’m not playing.” he gazes into your eyes. “i’m serious, no joke.” your heart starts beating faster, the butterflies in your stomach are wild and your breaths are accentuated by the silence in the car.
and that’s when he leans in. pressing his soft, watermelon chapstick flavoured lips onto yours.
you close your eyes and you feel like you’re dreaming.
“did that prove it?” he says when he pulls away, grinning at you.
“you’re pretty bold making a move on a freshman, bro.” you roll your eyes but your insides feel warm and fuzzy. “and you stole my first kiss!” you exclaim as you push him lightly and he puffs out in disbelief.
“what else do i gotta do to prove to you that i’m for real?” he says, crossing his arms.
“pinky promise me,” you say. “that you won’t leave and you’ll love me forever.” reaching out your pinky. mark laughs, his pinky intertwined with yours.
“now who’s the one who’s cheesy?” he teases. laughing as you angrily attempt to hit him. “i’m joking, i promise, forever.”
you should have known better, promises were made to be broken. but the sticky sweet watermelon flavour stuck on your lips blind you.
and all my friends are tired
of hearing how much i miss you, but i kinda feel sorry for them
'cause they'll never know you the way that i do
yeah, today i drove through the suburbs
and pictured i was driving home to you
you know your friends are tired of you rambling about mark. even though they’ve endured it for 3 years already, they don’t see why you’re still talking about him even when he’s gone. you don’t really blame them though. you ditch them to hang out with mark all the time, it was like he was the higher priority than they were, but you were just realizing.
but could they blame you? mark was the definition of dreamy. anyone in your position would understand and agree. all of the fun, secrets, journeys, songs you shared, you felt like nobody knew him like you did. you felt like you were on cloud 9.
but now is too late, as you realized after mark left that there was no one else that you would, could drive and feel at home with. you feel empty.
and you're probably with that blonde girl
who always made me doubt
she's so much older than me
she's everything i'm insecure about
yeah, today i drove through the suburbs
'cause how could i ever love someone else?
you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb.
mark told you the address and room of where he was living before he left. when you arrived, you met johnny, mark’s roommate. he said mark was at the production studio probably and he could walk you to where it was.
when you arrived, you saw the back of mark’s head and the back of the sweater you gave him before he left. and right beside him, a blonde girl. sitting comfortably with her head rested on his shoulder. you stood there shocked. forgetting that johnny was standing beside you, he notices the change in your mood and asks if you were okay.
“oh, yeah i’m fine. i was just checking up on him, his mom wanted me to, haha.” you tried to laugh it off. “he needs to call them back to reassure them he’s not dead yet.” johnny’s laugh echos in your ears as you reassure yourself that they’re just friends. nothing’s going on between them, mark is just a super nice person.
“that’s kim aera by the way. the TA for mark’s producing class. i think she’s in her third year? anyways, mark really enjoys working with her. it’s like he lives in the studio, he’s always asking her for suggestions and other stuff.” johnny explains. you tense up, you were the only person that mark had wanted to ask suggestions from. pause, you were. not anymore. but it makes sense, she’s the TA, she obviously had more knowledge and experience in the studio. and she’s more, accessible… “what’s the deal between you two though? mark never mentions anything to me, what’s your name?” johnny snaps you out of your daze.
“oh, uh, i’m y/n, mark’s family friend.” you try to cover up the nervousness and cracking in your voice. “yeah. our parents are close, so her mom can count on me to report on him. haha.” you laugh lightly. “i’m going to get going now, mark is obviously intact, so that’s good. i’ll catch you around.”
“oh cool. see you.” johnny waves, and you walk out the door.
you try to convince yourself that there’s nothing going on between mark and this aera, but reassurance won’t make the truth disappear.
you come back a few weeks later. you thought that after finals, he might be more free, and you guys could finally hang out for once. you thought that after hanging out again, everything would go back to normal. he’d go back to texting you, showing you new songs, and maybe hanging out more often as well.
“oh hey y/n, you’re back?” johnny answers the door once again. “he’s at the studio right now, do you need me to walk you there?”
“i think i’m good, i remember where it is. sorry for disrupting you. bye.” you smiled, and after johnny waves back and closes the door, you walk towards the studio.
you think of many different scenarios of how this will play out, but this isn’t what you expected.
you walk into the studio, about to call mark’s name, but you see the blonde locks again.
“thanks for helping me out with the lyrics, you’re really good with words.” mark says, smiling. “i think you’re a great role model.”
you feel a little jab at your side. lyricism was never your strong suit. you could write beautiful melodies and harmonies, but the words never seem to come out.
your heart stops. right when their lips lock. with the way her arms are pulling mark in by his nape, you can tell that she’s more experienced. you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb. you bolt out the door, you feel suffocated. you really were naive. if this is what heartbreak feels like, you don’t think that falling in love is worth it anymore.
you don’t look back. that’s the last time you ever see mark again.
apparently johnny asked mark about you.
“hey mark,” johnny calls out. “how was your meeting with your family friend y/n yesterday?”
mark stops dead in his tracks and his heart sinks. you came to see him? how come he didn’t see you? how did johnny know your name? and, why were you his family friend?
“oh uh, yeah it went well, thanks for telling me anyways.” mark escapes to his room.
mk.l
hey
did you come to see me?
you
no
why?
mk.l
oh, nevermind then.
johnny probably got the name wrong.
red lights, stop signs
i still see your face in the white cars, front yards
can't drive past the places we used to go to
'cause i still fucking love you, babe
sidewalks we crossed i still hear your voice in the traffic
we're laughing over all the noise
god, i'm so blue, know we're through
but i still fucking love you, babe
the world was quieter and stopped spinning. that feeling of being on top of the world all the time stopped too. you stopped going on your phone, you stopped socializing with people in general to be honest. you didn’t know how to face anyone. everywhere you went, everything you did, reminded you of mark. mark’s laugh, mark’s random nose scrunches, mark’s favourite songs, mark’s guitar, mark’s self-written melodies. you can’t go to mcdonalds, you can’t watch the sunset inside your car at the parking lot behind your local church, you couldn’t even pick up your guitar anymore. your melodies and harmonies didn’t come as smoothly anymore. you felt sick, you didn’t want to do music. it’s just not the same anymore. you didn’t feel like you had a purpose.
but you slowly got back up. music became your way of coping. listening to other people’s songs about heartbreak, you felt like you weren’t alone. your first heartbreak, no one there to teach you about it, and no one there to comfort you. so you did it yourself. you had no musical purpose, but now, your music was for you, your own personal expression. all the harmonies, melodies, colours, came back to you. and unexpectedly out of the blue, the words came to you too.
i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one
and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone
'cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me
'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street
yeah, you said forever, now i drive alone past your street
the backing instrumentals fade out and the emotion in your voice trickles into the darkness of mark’s room as he closes his laptop.
you found your words. he thinks, smiling sadly. finally.
©mrkcore, 2021.
#mark lee#mark lee imagines#mark lee angst#mark oneshots#mark lee fanfic#mark imagines#nct#nct dream#nct writing#nct oneshots#nct scenarios
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tutor girl - ljn
tutor girl - lee jeno fic
based off one tree hill hehe (been binging it lately)
word count: 8.6k (might be my longest one yet)
summary: lee jeno was an asshole. an awfully charming asshole. he wanted nothing more than to make your best friend’s life a living hell. he had his plan ready to go, but something, or rather someone, got in the way. will tutor girl change him for the better or will he stick to his ways?
mainly fluff but we got a lil bit of angst in there oops
(for the sake of this au , imagine jeno and mark are the same age)
//
“you should try out for the basketball team this year. i think you should show off your abilities on the real court” you walk alongside your best friend. mark lee. you clearly remember the day you met him. you were both around nine years old, placed in the same fourth grade class. you wanted to befriend him after finding out he only lived with his mother. coming from a big family, you were always used to having others around you. so you thought you’d do the same for him.
“really? i don’t know...the guys on the team are all jerks. besides i’m fine playing by the river court, there’s no pressure” mark shrugs at you, contemplating your suggestion.
“it’s a well known fact that they’re all jerks, but they’re jerks who can get scholarships for college, isn’t that what you want?” you continued to push. you knew the true reason he was hesitant on joining the team. but you didn’t want him to hold himself back in life, any good friend would do the same.
“yeah of course. i’ll think about it, y/n. but no guarantees” he sighs, walking into his mother’s cafe. you made your way to greet his mother,
“ah y/n, it’s great that you’re here, i’m gonna need you for another shift” she smiles softly, handing you your apron.
“yes ma’am” you smile back, watching as mark sat at the counter. this was how most of your days went. hanging out with mark most of the day, then coming to work at the cafe if you weren’t tutoring a student in need as part of the tutoring program at your school. you enjoyed helping your peers and their improved marks and positive attitude gave you a sense of accomplishment.
you were having dinner with mark and his mother, soojin, like you did most nights, when she suddenly brought up basketball tryouts,
“thinking of joining, mark?” soojin asked curiously.
“i don’t know if i want to, you know he’s gonna be on the team” mark anxiously admits.
see, the thing was, mark had a half brother by the name of lee jeno. he was notorious for being a grade A asshat. following suit of his and mark’s father, lee juyoung. juyoung and soojin were high school sweethearts, winning prom king and queen in their senior year. the day before graduation, soojin told juyoung she had fallen pregnant with mark. but he couldn’t handle being a father, having just earned a prestigious basketball scholarship for some fancy college. they quickly ended their relationship after graduating, wishing to never see or hear from one another again. soojin raised mark on her own whilst juyoung went to college, where he met jeno’s mother, minji. juyoung recklessly got minji pregnant with jeno, roughly six months after mark was conceived. but he stuck with minji, as she was from an affluent background and saw a more promising and stable future with her. jeno was brought up by his father to despise mark. they first met each other at a basketball summer camp when they were ten years old, but rarely saw eachother until high school. mark despised jeno equally, infuriated that he was favoured by their father. jeno had everything. he was the basketball team’s shooting guard, always getting the glory of scoring points. he was also dating one of the most popular girls in school, kang mina. and it didn’t help that he was pleasing to the eye, aside from his jackass tendencies. jeno had it all, mark often caught himself feeling jealous of the life jeno got to live. he hated his father for leaving his mother to raise him alone. it was needless to say, the lee brothers did not get along.
“who cares if jeno’s on the team? remember that you’re doing this for you, not for him or anyone else” you encourage, knowing how he truly felt towards jeno.
“y/n’s right. you are a great player, anyone can see it. just give it a try, you’ll never know what can come from it” his mother gave him a gently squeeze to his shoulder. mark avoided looking at the both of you, softly sighing,
“alright alright, i’ll tryout! what’s the worst that could happen?” he chuckled lightly.
//
as expected, mark surpassed everyone who tried out and was able to fill the last spot in the school’s varsity basketball team. unfortunately, he was not greeted with open arms, the other boys taunting that he wasn’t as good as them. especially jeno, absolutely disgusted by the idea of him and mark having to interact.
you sat with mark in his room as he ranted about his interactions with the team,
“they all said to watch my back, that they had something planned for me. is that not concerning?” he paced in his room, your heart sunk at his words. who would ever want to hurt such a kind soul like mark?
“you should tell coach, i’m sure he’ll try and straighten them out” you suggest, unsure if it even helped.
“that’s the thing, if i tell on them, they’ll retaliate even harder. god i knew i shouldn’t have joined” he groaned,
“don’t say that, you deserve to be on the team whether they like it or not” you furrow your eyebrows in concern. you move over to sit with mark on his bed, pulling his head to your shoulder.
“jeno’s the worst of them all. he always takes low blows at me about our dad, saying that he loves him more than me. that he doesn’t care about my mother. he’s ruthless” mark mumbled, your heart aching for him. you knew jeno was an ass, but you didn’t know he would outright say such hurtful things.
“he’s just jealous because you’re a threat to him. and besides, it doesn’t help that you’re totally crushing on his girlfriend, don’t think i haven’t noticed” you tease at the end, fully aware of mark lee’s massive crush on kang mina.
“w-what?! i do not have a crush on mina!” he exclaims causing you to chuckle.
“sure you don’t buddy, don’t act like you’re not happy to join the team. you get to watch her cheer for you from the sidelines” you poke his cheeks, trying to get him to lighten up. you hated seeing him so nervous and anxious all the time. you hoped things would get better from then on, but you were wrong. lee jeno was the epitome of an asshole.
jeno wanted mark off the team and he didn’t care how he did it or who he hurt in the process. not only did he take harsh jabs at mark about his mother, but he went as far as to soaking his gym clothes in water, leaving him with no clothes for practice. he refused to hand mark the ball during practice, often getting his friends to barge into mark if he tried to get the ball off him. somehow it got around that mina had been getting closer to mark as they had been paired up for an assignment, which only fuelled more anger in jeno. he needed to be more smart if he wanted mark to quit the team.
jeno was standing with his friend, jaemin at their lockers, when they caught sight of mark talking to you.
“who’s the chick that’s always hanging with mark?” jeno curiously asks, scanning his eyes over you.
“her name’s y/n, she’s part of the tutor program” jaemin responded, looking over at jeno who had a mysterious look in his eyes.
“i might just have to sign up for some tutoring” he smirked to himself, making his way to his next class.
//
you were filing some applications for tutoring at the student centre when you heard someone knock at the door.
“hang on a minute!” you politely spoke, turning to see who it was. your face immediately fell as your eyes landed on the dark haired boy infront of you.
“may i help you?” you crossed your arms, already fed up with him.
“i hope so, you’re my tutor” jeno copies your gesture, looking down at you in amusement.
“uh no, don’t think so” you turned your back to him, continuing to file applications.
“you’re y/n, right? see it says right here” he approaches you, practically shoving the form in your face. you glanced at the section where the allocated tutor’s name should be written and there you were. you took the form from him, softly biting the inside of your cheek before looking back at him.
“look i’m sorry but i’m best friends with mark” you hand the form back to him.
“well then i’m sorry too” he snickers, causing you to roll your eyes.
“i can’t help you okay? i’ll find someone else t-“
“i don’t want anyone else. you’re the best student tutor in this program. i really need your help” jeno practically whined. part of you wanted to help him, but your loyalty to mark, alongside all the terrible things jeno has said and done, wasn’t going to change your mind.
“i’m sorry, again. i-i just can’t” you rush out of the room, feeling guilty. as much as you disliked jeno, you were never the one to turn away a student in need. all you knew is that mark could never know about this.
//
your english teacher was handing back grades for the latest assignment. your eyes couldn’t stop focusing on jeno, who was visibly distraught after receiving his grade. the guilty feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away. so what if you helped jeno? maybe you could get him to back off mark. plus it was your duty as a tutor to help students in need. and right now, jeno needed you.
he approached you again in the student centre later that day,
“hey just letting you know, i won’t be needing you anymore, i’ll be just fine” jeno sternly announced to you, gaining your attention. before you could say anything back, he held up his grade from english,
“i mean, F is for fine, right?” your eyes moved to the paper that had a large, red ‘F’ written on it. you gave him a solemn look, debating what you would say next, you didn’t know what came over you,
“okay! i’ll tutor you!” you blurted out, catching jeno by surprise as well. his lips slowly formed into a smirk, walking closer to you.
“but on one condition, mark never finds out, and you also leave him alone!” you let out a short sigh, hoping you weren’t making a bad decision.
“that’s actually two conditions” he retorts, leading you to roll your eyes, already regretting everything.
“but okay, i’ll tell the guys to chill a bit” you looked at him in shock, not expecting him to consider your conditions at all.
“then it’s settled, let’s meet at the dock by the pier tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock sharp” you walk past him,
“why can’t we do it at school?” he asked in confusion,
“because i don’t want anyone else seeing us, especially mark” you sternly respond, making sure he understood.
“aye aye captain” jeno tried to joke, but you had already left before he could finish.
maybe this was going to be harder than he thought.
//
you were sitting at a table on the dock, waiting for jeno to show up. but your expectations were low. you questioned if he was taking this whole tutoring thing seriously, but your thoughts were interrupted when he rushed to you.
“sorry i’m late, i was hungry” he pulled out a small box of pocky, offering some to you. you shook your head,
“no thanks” he nodded as he shoved one in his mouth. he had also picked up a kinder surprise egg,
“praying i get a cheat sheet for this exam” he hold his hands together, quickly making a wish. you cracked a small smile at his antics, hoping he didn’t take notice. he opened the little bag containing the plastic prizes. he pulled out a colourful beaded bracelet. it was clearly made for children, but jeno thought you’d like it,
“here, for you” he looped it onto your wrist, “don’t say i never gave you anything” he winked, causing you to cringe.
“let’s just get started, shall we?” you ignored his comments, finally beginning the very first tutoring session. it wasn’t as bad as you initially thought it’d be. to your surprise, jeno was fully attentive and had made genuine attempts to learn. but it was probably only due to the fact he needed good grades to play basketball, it didn’t suddenly turn him into an amazing person in your eyes.
//
“hey! y/n! it feels like i haven’t seen you in a while, how have you been?” mark caught up to you on your way home from school. you two would usually walk together but with his basketball practices and your tutoring sessions, you both slowly stopped.
“i’ve been good! just busy with tutoring” you shrug, happy to have your best friend by your side again.
“ah same with basketball. it’s so weird, jeno and his goons haven’t done anything remotely bad to me this entire week” mark pulled the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.
“isn’t that a good thing?” you softly smiled at yourself, remembering the deal you made with jeno.
“i mean yeah, but i can’t help but be suspicious. what if there’s some other huge thing they have planned?” mark started stressing, gliding his hand through his hair.
“maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt” you mutter, unsure why you were even defending jeno.
“since when were you on his side?” your best friend stopped in his tracks, not believing a word that just left your mouth. you pulled at the strings of your hoodie,
“i’m on your side of course! i’m just saying that maybe he’s not as evil as you think he is” you tried to pull yourself out of the hole you were currently digging.
“i don’t know, y/n. i guess we’ll have to wait and see” he paused for a moment, looking down at your wrist,
“nice bracelet” your eyes shifted to the lame beaded bracelet jeno gave you. why were you still wearing it?
//
for your next tutoring session, jeno had invited you to his house, claiming that the dock was too noisy and he couldn’t focus properly. you actually agreed with him for once, now standing outside his house. you rang the doorbell, hearing someone shuffling behind the door. jeno swung the door open, greeting you with his classic smile. he led you to the dining table, with all of his materials already set out.
“finally organised, i’m impressed” you compliment him, not noticing how his cheeks were heating up.
midway through the session, jeno became distracted. he has received a text on his phone. you weren’t sure who it was, but by the way he was reacting, he was clearly frustrated.
“hey, can you get off your phone? we still have more examples to go through” you were slowly getting annoyed by his inability to remain focused.
“sorry, just uh- it’s nothing” he mumbled, shoving his phone back in his pocket before turning to face you.
“alright, break time” you sigh, closing the book infront of you. jeno shot you a confused look,
“why?”
“because something’s on your mind, you need to clear it” you advise him, hoping he would open up to you.
“you’re right, it’s just, mina. we’ve been getting into so many fights lately, plus she’s been hanging out with mark a lot. i just don’t know where we’re at” jeno looks down at his hands that were placed in his lap. you weren’t sure what to say, you slightly felt sorry for jeno, something you’d never thought would happen.
“and my dad, he keeps pressuring me to do better in basketball. he makes everything a competition between himself and me. now with mark on the team, there’s a direct comparison which he just cannot avoid bringing up every single day” jeno continues to rant, slowly taking you back. you had no idea he was feeling like this. he always presented himself as this tough guy who had no care in the world about anything but basketball.
“i-i don’t know what to say” you honestly admit, avoiding eye contact with him.
“it’s alright, i didn’t expect you to anyway. i just keep this all inside” he sighed, relieved to be able to say these things out loud for once, without being judged.
“i think that, you should live your life the way you want. if mina makes you happy then show her that. if basketball is your passion, don’t give up on it just because of your dad or mark or anyone else. just do your best, that’s all anyone can ask for” you tried your best to give him advice, not sure if he would even take any from you. but jeno was surprised at how gentle and understanding you were. he had never had someone to properly vent to about his problems.
“y-you’re right. like absolutely spot on right. damn, i guess you’re more than just a tutor” he smiled softly,
“ah yes i am also a part time motivational speaker and hype woman” you fake cheered, making him burst out in a soft chuckle.
“thanks for this, y/n. i uh, really appreciate you listening” jeno’s eyes meet yours as you listen to his every word. you almost got lost in his eyes for a split second before you pulled yourself back to reality.
“no problem, what a friends for” you murmured, causing him to raise his eyebrows,
“oh so we’re friends now?” he shot you another smirk, clearly entertained by this entire situation.
“i mean yeah, i consider you a friend. but if you tell anyone, i will deny it” you pointed a finger a him playfully.
“wouldn’t expect anything less”
//
the following week, you were lining up for your physical education class, waiting for the basketball boys to finish up their short practice. you caught sight of mark and jeno, who seem to be in the middle of a very heated argument.
“coach wants you to be shooting guard now? you really wanna take my position, lee? then let me take y/n off your hands” jeno cockily exclaimed,
“leave her alone! you better not be messing with her or i swear i’ll hurt you a lot more than i already want to” mark gritted through his teeth.
“funny you say that, because she’s been tutoring me, and i must say, she’s a special one” jeno continues to aggravate mark. you knew he was saying these things to get a rise from the other boy. to say you were disgusted was an understatement. now, they were shoving eachother, to the point where mark was on top of jeno, ready to punch him. the coach had to pull both of them apart, along with some of the other players. it was a whole mess, mark stormed out of the gym, giving you a sharp side eye before walking right past you. your eyes caught jeno’s, he gave you a pitiful look. everything had just gone to shit.
that afternoon, you decided to go over mark’s house to check up on him. you were prepared for him to yell at you, probably still in disbelief that you were hanging out with jeno behind his back. you softly knocked on his bedroom door, you heard him grunt slightly before opening the door.
“hey” you quietly muttered, mark just raised his eyebrows before letting you enter. you sat by his study desk, unsure of how to bring up the situation.
“why’d you do it, y/n? why did you agree to tutor that jerk?!” mark broke the awkward tension, arms folded across his chest.
“i-i don’t know, mark. he needed help with his work, what was i supposed to do? turn him away?” you argue back, feeling defensive.
“yes! that’s exactly what you should have done. jeno has made my life a living hell, just for being on the team. now he’s got you wrapped around his silly little finger? i thought you were better than that” mark scoffed. you just froze. never in your seven years of friendship, had mark yelled at you like this.
“jeno is strictly just a tutoring student to me! he’s nothing more than that. and you’re the one to talk! you’re over here flirting and hanging out with jeno’s girlfriend. she’s taken, mark. your silly crush on her needs to stop” you were beyond frustrated at this point, harsh words spilled out of you like there was no end.
“he treats her like crap, y/n! she comes to me for comfort! what am i supposed to do?” mark ran his hands through his hair.
“you wait for them to breakup, mark! that’s what any logical person would do. you don’t pine after her while she’s in a relationship. you’re better than that” you whimper the last sentence, hot tears filled your eyes. mark almost broke down, seeing you so upset. but he was too mad and stubborn to comfort you.
“you really think jeno cares about you? he’s only hanging out with you to get to me!” mark continued to fuel your anger,
“mark lee, you are an asshole. who would have thought you and jeno would switch places?” you finally spat out, rushing out of his room, ready at cry your eyes out at home.
//
“y/n! wait up!” you heard the familiar deep voice behind you. you kept walking, wanting nothing more than to go home and ignore everyone and everything around you. but lee jeno was persistent. he caught up to you, moving to stand right infront of you.
“i don’t want to talk to you right now” you sternly let out, trying to walk away from him. jeno softly gripped your shoulders, pulling you along with him to a secluded spot behind the school gates.
“i know you don’t, but i want to explain myself” jeno started, he appeared to be quite distraught. you nodded along, ready to hear his explanation.
“coach promoted mark to shooting guard. i haven’t been on my best game lately, you know, with my dad always on my back. i was so mad that coach wanted to replace me. he knows that basketball is my only shot to get into college, because let’s face it, academics will not get me through” you frowned once he said that, which made him crack a slight smile,
“you’ve helped a lot. more than you know. but anyway, i got so mad at mark, i kind of went crazy. i know i shouldn’t have brought you up. that was a dick move and i’m sorry. i just wanted to hurt him. i’ve noticed that you two haven’t been talking. and i can’t help but feel like i was the reason for it. so i don’t expect you to forgive me right away. i just wanted you to hear my side” jeno finally finished, his shoulders resting. your eyes were wide, not expecting this entire speech from him.
“jeno, i appreciate that you wanted me to know your side. and i’m sorry about mark replacing you. he was going to find out about us one way or another. atleast it’s finally out” you shrugged before continuing, “mark and i haven’t been as close as we used to be. and it kind of hurts. i cried a lot after he yelled at me and i jus-” before you could finish, jeno pulled you into him. you immediately froze against him, arms avoiding wrapping around his torso. jeno didn’t know why he hugged you, something about your whimpering tone made him want to hold you.
“i-i’m sorry, you just looked like you needed it” he muttered, slowly pulling away from you.
“i-it’s okay” you mumble back to him, avoiding his eyes at all costs.
“i can leave now if you want?” jeno pulled a piece of hair away from your face, making you look up at him.
“a-actually, wanna go for a walk to the dock?” you offer, watching as his face slowly lit up,
“sure” he smiled softly at you, as you both began walking. you caught sight of mark and mina, who were staring right back at you and jeno. you weren’t sure what to do, jeno noticed how uncomfortable you felt. he too, was not too fond of the sight of mark and his now, ex girlfriend, judging the both of you.
“so are they a thing?” jeno suddenly brings up on your way to the dock.
“mark and mina? i thought you were dating” your confused tone made him smile,
“uh well we kind of broke up a few days ago. the day of the fight actually” jeno informed you. you stopped in your path, looking over at the taller boy.
“why didn’t you tell me? are you okay?” you slightly pout,
“firstly, you were ignoring me. and secondly, to my surprise, i am okay. we just weren’t right for eachother, it happens” jeno just shrugs, but you could tell there was more behind it.
“what else is bothering you? aside from your dad and basketball?” you decided to push, feeling he was holding something back.
“i just realised how poorly i treated mina. i never really put much effort into the relationship. seeing her with mark kind of struck a nerve” he explained as you both sat at the same table as your first tutoring session.
“well it’s okay to have regrets, jeno. it means you’re human” you assure him, placing your hand over his. jeno froze at your action, not used to you initiating physical touch with him. his eyes scanned to your wrist,
“hey, you’re still wearing the bracelet” he couldn’t help but feel giddy that you had kept such a useless gift.
“ah yeah, it’s kinda cute don’t you think?” you show off to him, trying to get him to laugh.
you’re cute.
jeno thought to himself. he didn’t want to admit that he had a slight interest in you. the plan wasn’t for him to fall for you. but jeno was well on his way. and he wanted to snap out of it, as soon as possible. because you deserved someone better than him.
//
as the days went on, mark slowly began to talk to you again. it would start with small conversations during your shifts at the cafe, but once you got to the point where you would ask to hang out, he always had something to do. all you wanted was your best friend back, but he seemed pretty occupied with mina’s company, you didn’t want to make things worse.
on top of this, jeno was struggling a lot with his english work. you tried your best to get him to understand but his mind wasn’t in the right place.
“i’m sorry if it feels like i’m wasting your time, y/n” jeno pouted at you,
“you’re not wasting my time, jeno. you’ll get there eventually. you just have to practice, like in basketball” you tried to develop a comparison between the two, in order to encourage jeno’s study habits.
“speaking of, are you coming to the game on friday?” jeno suddenly went off topic, not that you minded, you both needed a brain break.
“um i don’t know, i might have plans” you tried to come up with some lame excuse before he continued,
“oh come on, it’ll be a good game, we always beat this team” jeno was practically begging you at this point, you softly chuckled at his desperation,
“i’ll make you a deal, get over 80 for the english exam and i’ll go” you suggested as you pulled out your pinky. jeno hesitated for a moment, but opted to promising you anyway. your pinkies remained linked, both of you too embarrassed to pull away. as cheesy as it sounds, for just a moment, you felt everything else freeze. your focus was only on jeno, how adorable he looked with his ruffled hair, practically in his pajamas. you slowly brought yourself back to reality, a warm feeling now developing in your stomach. this isn’t good.
//
wednesday afternoon rolled by, as you were about to leave the school gates, you heard jeno call for you. he wasn’t being so discrete either, gaining the attention of others around you.
“y/n! wait up!” he was practically wheezing by the time he reached you.
“god, did you run a marathon or something?” you chuckle, helping him stable himself.
“i had to see you right after i got this damn mark, 84!!” his face lit up like you had never seen before. you could tell he was genuinely pleased with himself.
“that’s amazing, jeno! i knew you could do it” you jumped up and down in excitement for him. jeno smiled at you, pulling his arms out, signalling whether or not it was okay to hug you. you nodded ecstatically, launching yourself in his arms. jeno couldn’t believe how perfectly you fit in his arms. if only he could do this more often.
as you both pulled away, jeno still kept his hands hooked on your forearms.
“so you’ll come to the game?” he raised his eyebrows in anticipation.
“a deal is a deal!” you nod once again, watching as jeno’s eyes creased into a crescent moon shape.
“thanks again for everything, i’ll look out for you on friday!” he cheered as he released your forearms from his gentle grip, making his way back to his friends who watched the entire interaction. you couldn’t help but feel a sudden wave of heat rush to your face. goddammit lee jeno.
//
the basketball game was in full swing. you had gotten to the gym right before the game started. you looked over the court for jeno, your eyes meeting his. he gave you a slight smile, followed by a nod. you waved lightly at him, feeling slightly embarrassed that the only reason you came was to see him. mark witnessed the entire interaction, his instincts telling him that something more was going on between you two. the last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially if it were at the hands of jeno. mark approached jeno before the game started, he pulled out his hand to shake,
“hey, i know it’s been rough between us but let’s do our best for this game” mark pushed aside his pride. jeno cluelessly stared at mark’s hand, hesitantly placing his hand against his.
“yeah, agreed” jeno awkwardly muttered, quickly pulling away from mark, joining the rest of the team for the pregame huddle.
there was five seconds on the clock, jeno was double teamed. there was no way he could make the shot, he knew his dad was watching, probably yelling at him to take the shot anyway. but jeno couldn’t risk it, he looked to his right, seeing an open mark lee with his hands ready to handle the ball. jeno spun on his heel, swiftly making a clean pass to mark. everyone stood from their seats, all eyes on mark lee. it took a few seconds for the opposing team to realise what had happened, giving mark the perfect shot. just as the buzzer signalled the end of the game, mark lee had scored the winning basket. all the boys on the team ran to the slightly frazzled boy, pulling him in for a group hug. jeno smiled at the sight, looking over to find you, but he was met with the disappointing glares of his father instead. jeno’s smile faded, an uneasy feeling making its way through his body. you noticed that he seemed off, quickly rushing to be by his side.
“jeno! are you okay?” you tried to gain his attention amongst the loud cheers and screams of everyone. jeno turned to face you, placing his hands on the sides of your arms.
“y-yeah, i’m okay now” he smiled lightly, sweat dripping from his forehead. you pulled the sleeve of your sweater down slightly, wiping some of the sweat from his face.
“gosh you look gross” you fake gagged as he rolled his eyes.
“so you’re not going to congratulate me on winning?” he pouted, which had a tug on your heartstrings.
“andddd, congrats on winning!” you pulled him in for a hug, it was jeno’s turn to freeze at your embrace this time. he didn’t expect you to openly hug him infront of everyone but who was he to object?
“hey y/n, i’m going to have a celebratory party at my dad’s beach house tonight, wanna come? i’ll even invite mark” he offered as you both pulled away, his hands still on your sides.
“parties aren’t really my thing, you know? i’m not really dressed for the occasion anyway” you shrugged, feeling guilty for trying to ditch.
“oh come on, please? even if it’s for a little bit, i can take you home” jeno continues to budge, shooting you a doe eyed look. you shook your head at his efforts to persuade you.
“alright, alright! i think i’ll try and talk to mark first, see you soon” you give him one last smile before making your way to congratulate mark. despite the tension in your friendship, you knew that mark was too occupied, running on the high of winning, to ignore you. his eyes met yours, already expecting you to approach him.
“congrats mark, you did really well” you awkwardly greeted as he finally faced you.
“thanks y/n, i’m glad you came. even if it wasn’t for me” mark teased in a playful tone,
“w-what’s that supposed to mean?” you stutter, feeling heat rise to your face.
“i mean, you came to see jeno. i saw you two” mark explained, but before you could butt in, he continued,
“it’s fine really, it was wrong of me to make you think you needed my permission or something. jeno’s not so bad, i guess. but i still want you to be careful with him, okay?” there was the mark you knew and loved. the boy who would always give it to you straight, even if it hurt, but you knew in your heart that everything was okay. you nodded along, pulling your arms out, practically begging to hug him again. mark slightly chuckled, pulling you into him.
“i missed you, mark” you muttered into his shoulder and his hold on your tightened.
“i missed you too, loser” he whispered. as you pulled away from him, mark started walking with you to his car where you would both be on your way to lee jeno’s after game party.
//
jeno’s dad’s beach house exceeded all of your expectations. it was right by the shore, a bunch of teenagers already scattered on the sand. you and mark entered the house, greeted by mina and her best friend, jarim. you noticed how awkward mark and mina were with eachother, part of you wanting to laugh but you were able to keep it inside. you also noticed jarim practically glaring you down, maybe it was your outfit? your thoughts were interrupted when jeno came rushing to the group.
“glad you two could make it” he smiled at both you and mark, mainly keeping his focus on you.
“this place is huge” mark blurted out in awe, causing jeno to chuckle lightly. he was dressed in a plain black hoodie and some jogger pants. despite dressing down for his own party, how does he still look so damn good?
“thanks man, feel free to walk around, just don’t break anything” jeno jokingly winked, looking down at you,
“want me to show you around?” it was clear he was directing the question at you. you looked back at mark who gave you a look, telling you to go with jeno. you turned back to the dark haired boy, his eyes never left yours.
“sure” you nodded, walking alongside him, hearing soft whispers from jarim and mina.
jeno pulled you with him to an empty room. your eyes widened as he shut the door, unsure of why he only pulled you aside from the others.
“you can sit on the bed if you want” he insisted as he shuffled around the room. you followed along, still curious as to why you were here.
“is everything okay? why did you pull me away?” you questioned,
“i just wanted to thank you. for everything. for the tutoring, the mina drama and the stuff with my dad. i don’t really talk to anyone about my problems like how i do with you, and i really just want to say thanks, privately” this was the first time you saw jeno being timid. he stuck to the back of the door, eyes glued to the floor. you softly smiled at his words, making your way to meet him. you pulled his chin up, so he could look at you properly.
“you’re welcome, jeno. i’m really glad to hear that i’ve been able to help. it really does mean a lot to me” the words glided through your mouth with ease. lee jeno wasn’t as intimidating as you initially thought. he was flawed, like everyone else in the world. all he needed was someone to show him that it was okay to not be okay.
jeno placed the palm of his right hand to meet your cheek, gently brushing his thumb over it. the gesture made your heart flutter. how was he so good at this?
“y-you’re really pretty, you know?” jeno mumbled, pulling strands of your hair behind your ear. you blushed at his words, not believing them yourself.
“n-no, i’m not” you shook your head, as he halted his actions.
“why do you say that?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you, genuinely in disbelief at your words.
“i guess, i don’t really feel pretty? i don’t know. i just haven’t really been called pretty before, especially by a guy like yo-“ you cut yourself off, not wanting to finish your sentence. before jeno could say anything, there was a loud knock at the door.
“anyone in there?” the person yelled, continuing to knock. jeno turned to open the door, in which jarim, mark, mina and jaemin were all standing.
“oh were we interrupting something?” jarim smirked, clearly tipsy from the alcohol she consumed earlier that night. mina gave you a concerned look, aware of how her friend acts when she’s drunk.
“uh kinda” jeno harshly responded, mark’s eyes immediately shooting to you,
“is that true?” he questioned. you felt everyone’s eyes on you. you froze up, words unable to leave your mouth.
“aw cat’s got her tongue. were you two making out?” jarim continued to budge you both, no one responded.
“ah i see, you were about to have sex!” she slurred her words, mina having to hold her back from entering the room.
“shut up, jarim” jeno spat, causing the drunk girl to shove him further into the room. the small group all entered, jaemin closing the door behind him.
“jarim, lets get you home, okay?” mina struggles to pick up her friend.
“no no, i wanna stay. if you wanna be nasty, jeno. how about we discuss the elephant in the room? i mean, you don’t actually like tutor girl here, do you? wasn’t it all a ploy to get back at our little markie boy here” jarim exposed, chuckling to herself.
“what’s she talking about?” you finally spoke up, fists balled and tears threatening to fall from your eyes.
“no, it’s not like that, god why are you such a bitch, jarim?” jeno ran his hands through his hair, taking a step towards you. you took a step back in response, making your way to mark.
“i want to go home” you mumble to him, mark immediately taking you into his arms. he bid mina a farewell, as she apologised over and over for her friend’s behaviour. jeno tried to call after you both but jaemin held him back,
“dude, you messed up”
“i fucking know that, i have to go apologise” jeno gritted through his teeth,
“woah, you like her. you like tutor girl” jaemin was astonished, the thought of you and jeno as a couple, never crossing his mind.
“yeah, i really do. but now she’ll never want to see me again” jeno let out a defeated sigh, leaning against the door frame.
so much for a celebratory occasion.
//
you heard a knock at your bedroom door, interrupting your study session. you opened the door, eyes furrowed at the person standing infront of you.
“i’m probably the last person you expected to see” jarim sighed, clearly unsure of what else to say to you. you were ready to slam the door in her face, but you wanted to hear what excuse she had for coming to your house.
“what are you doing here?” you fold your arms, leaning on your door frame. jarim hesitates, handing you a piece of paper before speaking,
“i feel really awful about the way i acted at the party. i was drunk, not that it excuses what i did and said. but i hope you can understand that i didn’t have ill intent” jarim tried to defend herself, pleading for you to listen. you allowed her to continue, still holding the folded piece of paper in your hand.
“i’m sorry about making things awkward now with jeno, i want to make it up to you both” she paused, waiting for you to respond.
“i appreciate you coming to apologise and everything but jeno and i aren’t, and will never be a thing. i think it’s pretty clear how he feels about me” you try handing back the paper to her but she stops you.
“no you’re wrong, jeno likes you. he really does. he just has a crappy way of showing it. that piece of paper is an itinerary for your first date with him” jarim gave you a small smile.
“i’m confused? you’re suddenly playing match maker now?” you scoffed, fed up with the schemes,
“well yes! i think you two should give it a shot. just read through what i planned out. jeno will be at the cafe on friday night. it’s up to you if you want to go on the date or not, no pressure. i really am sorry again, i hope you can forgive me” jarim gave you a soft nod before leaving your house. you let out a short sigh, unfolding the piece of paper. you weren’t sure if you were ready to speak to jeno again, nonetheless go on a date with him. you couldn’t help but think about what could have happened between you two. would it be so bad?
//
on friday night, you were finishing up your shift at the cafe. mark and mina kept you company. mark was ranting about the next basketball game and mina was stressed about the upcoming cheer competition. you were wiping down your last table when the bell on top of the door rang, signalling someone had just entered. you swiftly turn to meet whoever came in, your face falling at the sight of jeno, still in his basketball jacket, staring right back at you. you walked right past him, removing your apron. mark awkwardly shifted looks between the both of you.
“y/n, can we talk?” jeno finally breaks the silence, walking closer to the counter you were standing behind. mark and mina slowly crept out of the cafe, mark mouthing a quick apology to you before scurrying off. you sighed, still unsure if you wanted to be on speaking terms with jeno.
“what is there is talk about?” you questioned, avoiding his gaze at all costs.
“the date that jarim organised, i would really like to go on it” jeno stumbled over his words, holding the folded piece of paper, identical to the one you received earlier that week.
“look, i just don’t think it’s a good idea, jeno. i mean, us going on a date? isn’t it ridiculous?” you tried to brush off any indication you were interested in him.
“it’s not ridiculous to me, y/n. just give me a chance, please?” he tried so hard to get you to look at him. you finally caved in and saw how fragile he looked.
“i can bail whenever i feel like it?” you fold your arms, hoping you wouldn’t regret your decision.
“yes, of course” jeno nodded, as you made your way to stand next to him.
“then let’s get going” you pulled your jacket and walked out of the cafe with jeno.
“okay so first thing she wrote was for us to list three things we like about eachother” jeno read off the piece of paper as you both walked aimlessly on the sidewalk.
“suddenly i can’t come up with anything” you jokingly shrug as jeno shoots you a playful glare. he started to loosen up, instantly feeling more comfortable with you.
“if you wanna be like that, i’ll go first then. i like how patient you are with me. you don’t treat me like some moron during tutoring” jeno awkwardly smiled at you, watching as your face softened. you knew how hard he was trying to get his grades up.
“thankyou jeno, that’s really sweet. i’m really proud of how far you’ve come” you compliment, watching as his cheeks start heating up. jeno moved closer to you, your arms brushing against eachother.
“i like the way you call my name, i know it sounds strange but it’s nice listening to your voice” you chuckle softly, completely embarrassed by your response. jeno couldn’t help but gush, he didn’t realise that you felt the same towards him.
“i actually think that’s cute. i’ll just keep talking to you then? even if you tell me to shut up” he smirks, nudging you gently.
“yeah yeah, it’s your turn” you tried to rush through this segment, butterflies forming in your stomach.
“i like that you’re pretty” he stopped you both in your tracks, fingers dangling near yours. you looked up at him, his eyes gazing into yours.
“i-i think you’re pretty too” you blurred, causing jeno to chuckle. you shook your head,
“ah no i mean that, i think you’re good looking? handsome? beautiful?” you couldn’t stop rambling, which only entertained him more.
“i got it” he mumbled, inching closer to you. you felt your breath hitch, never being this close to him before. you were crumbling under his gaze, suddenly pulling away from him. jeno let out a soft sigh, inserting himself next to you as you both started walking again.
you made it to the dock, choosing to sit on a nearby bench, admiring the moonlight shining on the water.
“i like you, jeno. that’s the last thing” you muttered, avoiding eye contact with the boy. jeno couldn’t contain how happy he was, wanting to pull you into him as soon as you finished speaking. but he saw how your expression dropped, a look of concern washed over you.
“i like you too, y/n. but w-what’s wrong?” jeno placed his arm around your shoulder, giving you a gentle pat.
“i-i’m scared, okay? i’ve never really been in a relationship before or even confessed to a guy. and to top it off, you and mark aren’t completely on good terms yet. so it just feels like everything is working against us being together” you ranted, jeno listening along to every word you said. he paused before responding, seeing how you were so worried about this, made his heart ache.
“hey, it’s okay. i don’t want to rush you into dating me or anything. i will work on my relationship with mark, if it makes you more comfortable. i swear, i would do anything to be with you, y/n. i can promise you that” jeno’s words brought much needed assurance to you. you finally looked over at him, his eyes dazzling under the moonlight.
“what will everyone think? i mean, i’m practically a no one. and you’re lee jeno. you aren’t scared of committing social suicide?” you dramatically point out. jeno throws his head back in laughter.
“i don’t care what anyone thinks. i just care what you think.” jeno slowly takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. you felt your heart race. how was he do good at this?
“how can i be sure that this isn’t another ploy to get to mark? how do i know this is real, jeno?” you mumble, still afraid of getting hurt again.
“if i could take back what i did, i would. without a doubt. y/n, i just want to be someone who’s good enough to be seen with you” jeno confesses, his words bringing a small smile to your face.
“well you should have thought about that before you humiliated me at the party! i really wanted to give you a piece of my mind, you know? there’s nothing you can do now that will make me forgive yo-“
you were cut off mid rant, feeling a pair of lips meet yours. you felt his hand gently caress your cheek, you didn’t know what came over you. you pressed your lips closer to his, if that was even possible. jeno softly mumbled against your lips,
“i’m sorry, i’ve just wanted to do that for so long” you ignored him for a bit, pulling him into you again. kissing jeno was something your past self would have beat you up for. but it just felt so damn good.
jeno broke away from your lips, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. you were intensely blushing at this point. hands now placed on the sides of jeno’s face. he looked at you with so much admiration, you couldn’t help but swoon over him.
“hate to say, but i was wrong about you” you whispered, a wide smile making its way to his lips.
“i’m all yours, y/n. i want to be there for you, through everything. i want to be the one you go to for comfort. i want you to come to my games and cheer me on. i want you to keep tutoring me until we graduate. i just want to be with you” jeno couldn’t stop rambling, the overwhelming feelings he had towards you were taking over him.
“i want to be with you too, jeno. it feels so good to finally say it” you surprise him by pecking his lips quickly. jeno’s eyes widened, he couldn’t hold back his need to embrace you. jeno pulled you up from the bench, wrapping his arms around you.
“thankyou, for everything” he mumbled against your forehead, placing a small kiss on it, as you both embraced eachother.
and that’s how you ended up dating your best friend’s half brother...it was definitely a story you enjoyed telling. dating lee jeno was filled with random rants in the early hours of the morning, breakfast delivered at your door step before he walked you to school. he visited the cafe to keep you company on your shifts, in return you would attend his basketball games, painting his jersey number in your cheek. he always searched for you in the crowd, giving you a wink before shooting the winning basket. it was ritual for you to jump in his arms after every game, whispering endless congratulations to him while kissing his cheeks. being with jeno was surprisingly drama free. he was completely loyal to you, and always showed you off every chance he could. he had also gotten closer to mark, partially due to your help. so you all ended up hanging out often, riding the roller coaster of life together.
who would have thought that the arrogant boy who despised your best friend, would become the most important person in your life?
#lee jeno imagine#lee jeno fic#nct dream imagines#nct dream fic#nct dream angst#nct fluff#jeno angst#nct imagine#nct fic#nct writings#jisungsmochi masterlist#jisungsmochiimagines
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Childhood Friends
Come As You Are by AFangirlFantasy
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Highschool Reunion AU where Harry is Niall's flatmate, Zayn and Liam are married, and Louis is just trying to find his way back home.
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An A/B/O Lion King AU
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Bridget Jones' Diary AU.
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Now In A Minute by thealmightyavocado
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13 feels like yesterday for many people, but for Louis it actually was.
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So when thirteen-year-old Louis wakes up in the body of his thirty-year-old self, he expected everything in his adult life to be picture perfect. And maybe it is. He has it all…or so it seems.
Except his favorite person and lifelong best mate, Harry Styles, is totally missing from the equation and Louis doesn’t understand why. He has a lot of catching up to do and as adult life turns out to be more than what he bargained for, Louis can’t help wondering why a life that seemed so perfect, feels so empty.
Or the 13 going on 30 au that should have been done years ago.
♡ credit to the owner of the manip
♡ past themed recs here
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hello! i’ve been LEECHING on for some (haikyuu) domestic fluff and these days i’ve been having the most insane baby fever. if you don’t mind, could i have a head cannon with ushijima, sugawara, and akaashi with a family? there’s been a surge of domestic stuff and i’ve been GOBBLING THAT UP and i wanted to request because you’re such a great writer 🥺👉👈 thank you so much for your time and love you very much, i hope you stay safe with all this madness going on in our world! 💞💞💞
aw thank you for the compliment anonie! i hope you enjoy these :) (this is an AU especially for ushijima! i don’t believe he attends college after high school, or at least that’s what i believe, so in this case, he’ll be attending college.)
Ushijima Wakatoshi
When he was growing up, Wakatoshi never really had much expectations for his domestic future. Sure, it would be nice to have a wife and he hasn’t thought about kids, but it isn’t on his mind until it becomes a topic amongst his classmates in his final year of high school.
However, when he meets you in college, he’s a little surprised that he can imagine a life with you after he becomes friends with you for about a year. He’s a little reluctant to approach you in this sense, because he’s very focused on his volleyball career and going fully professional after university ends.
The two of you become a beautiful couple and while the distance can be rough, you manage to tough it out and you marry after he becomes recruited to Schweiden Adlers. It may look rushed on the outside, but it has been expressed many times that you would like to get married to him whenever possible because even if you won’t see him all the time, the ring on your finger will provide a reminder that he is yours and you are his.
Children are put off until half way through his career. Neither of you want to have children when he first started because he needs to establish his place on the team and it would be rough to raise them by yourself. Midway is the best compromise because while he is still going away for games and conferences, he can have a weekend or two a month to visit you and your newest addition.
He is definitely a supportive dad. He asked to have a parental leave for a month and while it is difficult to take care of your baby son, he loves seeing you in action and provides love and affection to you and your child.
Between the midpoint and end of his career, his son grows from a baby to a toddler to a child. Wakatoshi even teaches him some volleyball when he is off from a game. He sees himself in his son, in the way that he works hard to be just like his dad.
By the time Wakatoshi reluctantly retires from playing professional volleyball, his daughter is born and he is very thankful to be able to spend time with his wife, son, and daughter.
He isn’t the most open with words but he makes up in his actions. He teaches his son volleyball, and while there is no pressure on him to pursue it, his son holds a place on Japan’s U-19 team during his high school years. Ushijima could not be more proud of him.
His daughter is in awe of him because her dad is so cool! She loves telling her friends how your high school team did this and that and his college team won nationals. She even attends Shiratorizawa Academy when she is of age because she’s held so much pride in the place where her dad established the beginning of the rest of his life.
Sometimes, you look at your husband with such glowing eyes. He’ll be with your son and daughter, just listening in on a conversation his children are having. He contributes in the ways he knows best and that is what makes him a great husband and father.
Sugawara Koushi
He’s already a mom to his crows, you KNOW he will be one of the best dads on Earth.
He’s a bit of a romantic, but he’s a hopeful romantic and he is up to the challenges that come with love. I headcanon him as the type not to fall in love at first sight, but to continuously fall in love over time. I mean this in the sense that while he found you physically attractive when he first met you, he continues to learn about you and find more things to love.
He’s so honored that of all the people you could have fallen in love with and all the people he could have fallen in love with, you two were matched to fall in love with each other.
Suga proposes when he feels is right, which for him, that moment would be after you graduate from college. He’s never been more sure in his life that you are the one he wants.
Everyone is so excited for you guys! In the upcoming months to your wedding, his teammates, your classmates, and your families are all giving you an extra hand.
After you’re married, it’s like beginning to date him all over. You understand why he is the way he is through his living habits. You fall in love with the way he likes cuddling often and how cheeky he can be in the subtle movements.
Kids come really soon after you’re married and understandably so because you’ve both known that you wanted kids. You’re both financially stable because you’re about two or three years out of college at this point and you’ve secured jobs that make you happy.
He actually sheds tears when your first baby is born. He’s a beautiful baby boy that is made out of love! He’s so proud of you for doing something so superhuman and doing it so gracefully.
Your son has all the kindest in the world and that is because Suga is the kindest dad. He always shows his love for his son even if it’s not what other families do because he wants to show him that this family was made out of love.
You become a boy mom because the next two are also boys! You thought you’d have a girl, but you are so content with your four boys.
Suga is very open to breaking gender roles, and he doesn’t really care for determining which parent does what based on their gender.
He’ll pick up his sons from soccer or volleyball practice in the minivan. He’ll make dinner for the family when you’re busy with work. He absolutely adores your sons because Koushi feels so humbled that he has the opportunity to be a dad and a role model to these munchkins that resemble the two of you so well.
Koushi is definitely the dad that will be at PTA meetings, even if you’re not there with him. He starts to go with you but ends up being the parent that represents your family.
Koushi is highkey the best dad ever.
Akaashi Keiji
Keiji is such a sweet boy. He cares so much about people and of course, you are the apple of his eye.
He’s a personal type of lover and met you through his friends in college. One night at the bar can really make a world. Who knew English majors knew how to party?
While you thought you’d be doing much of the wedding planning, Keiji steps up and allows you to take a back row seat. He’s supporting you by not only helping you with the process, but taking a majority of the responsibilities.
He shed a few tears at the wedding, like when he saw you walking down the aisle, or when you’re alone on the dance floor together for your first dance.
On the topic of children, he’s always wanted them, but considering his job, even as an editor of a major manga publication, creatives can be unstable at times. He’s really thinking of supporting you and a future family when he expresses this to you, but you don’t mind because he’s Akaashi Keiji. If he can be the world’s greatest setter and the world’s greatest editor, he can be the world’s greatest dad too.
Your first child is a girl. A total breeze and takes after her father’s observation skills. She’s incredibly empathetic towards other people and every day, she reminds you of your husband.
The next is a son. Akaashi teaches him volleyball, but he doesn’t really take to it. He likes it enough to play with his dad from time to time, but the inheritor of the athletic skills is your last child, another girl.
Akaashi didn’t expect his daughter to get so into receiving and setting and eventually, she is the only one of the three to attend her father’s high school alma mater. (He doesn’t look proud, but he is so very proud on the inside. Uncle Bokuto is flying off the roof knowing his niece is heading to Fukurodani with hopes of being on their girls’ volleyball team.)
He spoils his kids often within reason. He might not buy a toy they’ll only play with once, but he’ll treat them to a meal once in a while or get them a video game they’ve been raving about for a while. He doesn’t do it because he wants to be the favored parent, but he does it because he believes his kids deserve it. He thinks the best of his kids.
Akaashi is really hellbent on making sure his kids are happy and healthy and providing them with what he can. He might not know how one of his daughters feel about womanhood, but he can ask them how they feel and let them vent. With his son, he makes sure to have check-in talks when they’re both not busy. Your son appears to hate them, but you always see him walking taller after Akaashi finishes with him.
Keiji is pretty sad when his children leave the nest. He’s always needed them, and now that they’re off into the world, whether they’re heading off to college or to the workforce, he’s so proud of them for being who they are. They are his world and he’s so proud to be their dad. You feel so strongly about this statement: “one of the best parts about being a mom is watching you be a dad.”
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu hcs#hq!! headcanons#hq!! hcs#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima#ushijima headcanons#shiratorizawa headcanons#shiratorizawa x reader#sugawara koushi x reader#sugawara x reader#sugawara koushi#sugawara#sugawara headcanons#karasuno headcanons#karasuno x reader#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi x reader#akaashi keiji#akaashi#akaashi headcanons#fukurodani headcanons#fukurodani x reader#lara's requests
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This recommendation list focuses on the main pairing, the hottest couple in Check Please: Eric “Bitty” Bittle and Jack Zimmerman or more affectionately known as Zimbits. They’ve come a long way since the beginning of Check Please!
I’ve compiled some of what I consider excellent fanfics that feature this couple although it does not contain all of my recommendations. They are in no particular order. I plan on creating more recommendation lists down the line, especially for other pairings in this fandom.
As a reminder, please make sure to check the tags and any warnings before reading. Take care of yourself!
Hold It All At Bay by psocoptera
Psychic Bond AU // ~50k // R
The theory of extrapolative synchronization of the mirror neurons was debunked back when he was still in his teens, so Jack is reluctant to mention that he can smell Bitty's pies baking from across campus.
Easy P-Z by ebjameston
HGTV AU // ~21k // PG-13
Jack and Kent are the ridiculously handsome house-renovating married retired hockey players that’ve been making HGTV an absolutely stupid amount of money with their new show.
And Eric Bittle just got hired to be their show’s caterer.
Eric Bittle, NBC 10 by foryouandbits
Journalist AU // ~82k // NC-17
In 2009, Jack Zimmermann was drafted 2nd overall to the Providence Falconers. After a tumultuous first season in the minors, Jack returns to the NHL and is named captain within a year. Known to the media as the "hockey robot," no one seems to be able to break through the polite barrier that Jack has built — no one until Eric Bittle, newest intern at NBC 10. Bitty, interning as a requirement for his journalism degree at nearby Samwell University, forms an instant connection with Jack. Throughout the rest of the season, and the rest of Bitty's junior year at Samwell, the two grow closer while learning how to both trust each other and succeed in their respective careers.
What I want to feel, I want to feel it now by RabbitRunnah
Bakery AU // ~28k // PG-13
Eric Bittle knows the way his life is supposed to go: According to an old family curse, the love of his life will take one bite of his famous apple pie and fall madly in love with him. And they'll live happily ever after.
There's only one problem: Jack Zimmermann doesn't like pie.
Back to You by PorcupineGirl
Canon Divergence // ~15k // PG-13
When Jack kissed him at graduation over a year and a half ago, Eric had been too shocked to really think about what it might mean, long-term. They'd talked constantly over the next six weeks, enough for him to feel confident that Jack felt the same way he did, and to start to imagine what those far-off futures might look like together.
And then Jack came to Madison for the Fourth of July, and Eric made the stupidest mistake of his life: He let himself and Jack talk themselves out of it.
he will take you by hockeydyke
Camp Counselor AU // ~55k // PG-13
Jack Zimmermann has been a part of Camp Samwell for the majority of his life-- first as a camper when his parents spent summers in nearby at a lake house in scenic upstate New York, then as a counselor, and now as the program director of the entire camp. The problem now is that the camp is attracting bad luck left and right, and they’re losing campers and staff at an alarming rate. Enter Eric Bittle, Jack’s new co-director. He’s young, enthusiastic, and maybe he’ll have what it takes to get the situation turned around.
Unfortunately, something powerful is in control of Camp Samwell, and it wants Bitty to get out.
<lj-cut text="you see who I am and what I did"> by tomato_greens
Rock Band AU // ~11k // PG-13
Rolling Stone
No Jack Zimmermann Is An Island
by Jennifer S. Harada
After avoiding me for a week, Jack Zimmermann calls to ask me to meet him at a bakery. Or maybe a diner; he’s not sure what to call it. A brunch place, although they make great pies, too.
“Sure,” I say, “whatever you want, Mr. Zimmermann.”
“Jack,” says Zimmermann. His voice is higher than I expect it to be, and his Québécois accent more pronounced. “I’ll see you there.”
someone to count on (and other cheesy idioms about finding your soulmate) by heyfightme & omgpieplease
Soulmate AU // ~9k // PG-13
Eric’s counter reads 1. That’s all. Just 1. He’s eighteen years old, has not left the state of Georgia in his entire life, and his counter reads 1.
He has spent many mindless afternoons and worn out many pens in tracing it over into a 0. If the counter did read 0, the morning wouldn’t be looming like the black rainclouds that Mama used to call “omens.”
Eric is leaving for college in the morning. When he passes the state line from Georgia to North Carolina in the passenger seat of his Mama’s sedan, he’ll also be passing the last chance he has for the counter to make it to 2.
Calendar Boy by darter_blue
Canon Divergence // ~15k // R
It was supposed to be totally innocent. A friend of Lardo’s was putting together a little project, compiling a calendar of some of the openly gay athletes on campus, fundraising for the LGBTQ+ community outreach programs at Samwell.
Bitty hadn't really even been reluctant. Excited about the prospect of a fun photo shoot and a chance to dress up a bit, do something glamorous.
And he thinks it's a great photo (if not a bit more revealing than what he was expecting…). And when the calendar comes out it’s nerve racking but exciting. Until one by one the team finds a copy (Jack may be hiding one under his mattress), and then it's pandemonium.
is it too late now to say sorry by magneticwave
AU // ~5K // PG-13
I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS, Eric types furiously into Twitter. THIS IS LIKE RENAMING LAKE WOEBEGONE “LAKE SCOTT WALKER.” // Or, the only person in the entirety of Canada who is upset about Jack Zimmermann’s first Stanley Cup is Eric Bittle, and by God is every single one of Eric’s 160,000 Twitter followers going to hear about it.
I Can Feel the Storm Inside You by Effyeahzimbits
AU // ~15k // NC-17
Life is going good for Eric Bittle. It's summer, he has an exciting new job with the Providence Falconers, he's in a club celebrating with his friends, and he currently has a Canadian Adonis grinding up against his ass. Life is good.
Until said Canadian Adonis flees the morning after some mind-blowing sex, leaving behind a rubbish note. Bitty tries hard to forget about him and his huge, pert ass and focus on his new job, but then Canadian Adonis and the Falc's grumpy, anti-social captain turn out to be one and the same. And Bitty really couldn't forget about that huge, pert ass.
three words that became hard to say by the_one_that_fell
Canon Divergence // Series // ~35k // R
Ten years after Samwell, Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann find each other again.
Flight Check by edgarallanrose
Flight Attendant AU // ~15k // NC-17
Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?
Bits of Heaven by WrathoftheStag
Older / Bakery AU // ~22k // R
At age 44, NHL legend, Jack Zimmermann, knows three things for sure: retirement is boring, love is probably not in the cards for him, and his aging father makes a pretty good roommate. When the bakery "Bits of Heaven" opens up down the street, Jack finds that a happily ever after is possible—even late in the game.
A Tolerance for Pain by uniqueinalltheworld
Soulmate AU // ~3k // R
It makes sense, his mother tells him when he's nine: Jack's such a physical person, of course his indicator would be his soulmate's pain. Jack doesn't have anything to say about it, really, he just scowls and winces as his soulmate falls down again. Alicia Zimmermann, whose heterochromia reversed itself upon laying eyes on Bob for the first time, because she’s more passionate about visual media, pats him on the shoulder with a completely insufficient amount of sympathy. Jack's backside is sore for months as the falls keep happening, and he can only think that somewhere, his soulmate must be learning how to skate.
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☆ Rules & Information ☆
This is a blog dedicated to doing imagines surrounding my original human au. Here’s a description for each character's place in the au and rules for requests — I’ll be adding more characters as I get more comfortable writing for them.
*I did change the names of some characters so that they would reflect the countries they come from
*Also: this shit long, so strap in and get ready
☆Rules for Imagines☆
I’ll do imagines, or a bullet point list of up to 6 characters at one time, or a written scenario for up to 3 characters
I’ll also do nyos and genderbends of each character (ngl, I simp after nyo!America), their placement in the au won't change.
I include South Italy and Prussia in the axis, and Canada in the Allies
I’ll write fluff, smut, angst, and everything in between
I absolutely won’t write: incest, explicit sexual assault or excessive gore
The only time I will do romantic/sexual imagines for the characters who canonically have the physical appearance of people under 18 is if you explicitly state that you want them aged up, or if the reader is also underage. If you request adult x minor, I will discard your ask & invert your rib cage.
☆Rules for Matchups☆
Before submitting, check if they’re open or not, they won’t always be due to not wanting my page cluttered with them
When requesting, include personality, interests, dislikes, any pets you have, fun facts about yourself, and possibly clothing style
Don’t bother to include physical features as those will not be taken into account when pairing you up with someone
Include whether you want the matchup to be romantic, platonic, or one of each
☆Character Au Placements☆
North America
America | Alfred Jones, age 19
A young man that's cheerful and strong, with a strong sense of justice. He often can't read situations and has a habit of ruining the mood, whatever mood that may be. While he’s usually labeled as “incompetent”, he’s attending college (or university, depending where you’re from) to obtain a bachelor's degree in aerospace engineering. He plays as the pitcher on his college’s baseball team, able to throw a devastating fastball. He lives in a two bedroom apartment with his twin brother, Matthew. He had a crush on Amelia Earhart when he was younger, and it’s something that Matthew teases him about on a weekly basis.
Canada | Matthew Williams, age 19
On the surface, he's an easygoing, softhearted and gentle young man, around his twin brother and close friends, however, he can be quite sassy, nearly bordering on rude on occasion. He's in his first year of college for a degree in statistics. For the college, he plays as the Center on the hockey team, where he lets out steam on his opponents. He has a pure white rag-doll cat named Kumajirou that follows him around his and Alfred's apartment. He curses regularly in french.
United Kingdom
England | Arthur Kirkland, age 23
He's either a quick-witted, sarcastic and stubborn man, or the paragon of a perfect gentleman. He enjoys reading, writing (although he doesn’t show anyone his stories), and embroidering. He’s gotten so skillful at it, that he has a well-traversed Etsy shop. He’s currently in his last year of getting his Postsecondary Education degree and a minor in linguistics. When he was a teenager, he was a delinquent, going to loud concerts, fighting, dyeing his hair wild colors, and smoking. While he says he’s over it, he still keeps various CDs of OK Go and The Rolling Stones, as well as band t-shirts. It’s something that his 3 older brothers refuse to let go of.
Baltic
Estonia | Eduard von Bock, Age 19
He's a graduated honors student who has avoided many problems with wit. Usually in front of people he acts calm, logical, and businessman-like, but in private he’s actually pretty chill, albeit a bit quiet. He’s awesome with technology, and works part-time at his college as an IT advisor while he studies to get his Quality Control & Safety Technologies degree.
Latvia | Raivis Galante, age 15
He’s a boy who has been through quite a bit, making him an introvert, easily intimidated, and kind of a crybaby. He’s in his first year of high school, but due to him having an anxiety disorder, he does it digitally. The only problem is that he strives to have friends who are close to him and care for him unconditionally. He secretly likes to read cutesy romance novels from the young adult section.
Lithuania | Toris Laurinaitis, age 19
He's a patient, shy, and gentle person who has the ability to become pretty serious when he needs to be. He works as a librarian assistant while he decides between a degree in social work or education. He, unfortunately, usually over-thinks his decisions too much, causing him to have anxiety attacks. When he’s not working, he’s typically just dragged around by his close friend, Feliks, but he has a good time nonetheless.
Nordic
Denmark | Mathias Køhler, age, 19
He’s a genuine sweetheart who often accidentally always yells. While he is kind, he’s also a bit thick-headed, although he always has the best of intentions. He considers himself to be very close to his friends, especially to Lukas, although the other man’s opinion on the matter is about the opposite. He attends college for a master’s degree in, surprisingly enough, Business Administration. When he isn’t studying, he enjoys clinging to his friends and drinking. He has the habit of playing online video games with Alfred and Gilbert for way too long at a given time. He also gets oddly competitive over his degree with Tino.
Finland | Tino Väinämöinen, Aged 20
He's a gentle, cheery young man with a tendency to like the more simplistic things in life. He seems very mature, yet can be childlike. He loves relaxing in saunas, especially with his close friends. He has a small Maltese pup named Hanatamago who attends dog shows. When he’s not attending dog shows, he does online college for a masters in Medical Assisting.
Iceland | Emil Steilsson, age 17
He’s a mysterious boy with a cool exterior and a hot interior, being a bit easy to provoke with teasing. His older half-brother often insists that he was ‘born in his emo phase’. He taught his pet puffin (geniously named Mr. Puffin) a lot of profanity in Icelandic, Norwegian, and English. He attends high school, which he is absolutely over. On a side note, even though Lukas is his half-brother, he often refuses to have any connection to him whatsoever in public.
Norway | Lukas Bondevik , age 18
He is, like his half-brother, very introverted. However, he is considerably more cold to strangers, but to his close friends, he can (sometimes) be very sweet. He just recently finished highschool, but intends on going straight into college for an Applied Data Science degree. He practices Modern Paganism, or Wicca, as his religion.
Sweden | Berwald Oxenstierna, Aged 21
He’s a guy with an intimidating air who doesn’t talk much. On the inside he’s playful, but it doesn’t show at all and he just seems intimidating. He works as a carpenter after he went to a trade high school, a job that he greatly enjoys. Other than that, he likes decorative arts and being a part of debates on his free time. While he can create furniture out of wood scraps without any blueprints, he can’t put together IKEA furniture to save his life.
Eastern Europe
Belarus | Natalia Arlovskaya, age 19
While she can be extremely possessive over her older brother and sister, she means well. She openly looks up to both of them, as they are the only two people in her life that have remained constants. She lives with both of them in a house and works part-time at her sister’s flower shop. She’s also a part-time online student with a pursuit of a criminology degree.
Russia | Ivan Braginski, age 21
He has the simplicity of a country bumpkin, an easy-going personality, and the cruelty of a child, all mixed together. Coupled with his personality traits and the fact that he’s well over 6 feet tall, he constantly (and accidentally) gives off an intimidating air. He attends college for a Avionics Technology bachelor's degree. Deep down, he’s incredibly passionate about ballet, more specifically Russian ballet, his favorite being Don Quixote, with Sleeping Beauty as a close second.
Ukraine | Katyusha Braginskaya, age 24
Ivan and Natalia’s older sister who always recklessly gets dragged into their messes. She's an absolute sweetheart who strives to make the people around her happy, even at her own expense. She can be very emotional. She owns a flower shop where she let’s her younger siblings work part-time while they go to school.
Central Europe
Germany | Ludwig Beilschmidt, age 20
He's a young man with an overly serious personality and a pessimistic nature. He's very by-the-book and has a pet peeve for a lack of cleanliness. He attends college for mechanical engineering and dorms with Feliciano and Kiku. His older brother, Gilbert, regularly breaks in and hangs out with them. His hobbies are reading, making sweets and taking walks with his dogs (that live with Gilbert). He’s in a garage band with the three aforementioned guys. He does, however, want to be a soldier like the other members in his family. Unfortunately, due to an injury to his leg that he sustained as a kid, he can’t.
Hungary | Elizabeta Héderváry, age 26
She’s a sweet, reliable woman with a bit of a boyish streak. For a career, she works doing maintenance on a farm that belongs to a close friend, Basch (Switzerland). In her free time, she likes riding horses, going hiking and practicing instruments, one of which is the tekerőlant. She has a young child, Julian (Kugelmugel), from a previous relationship with her ex fiance, Roderich (Austria). Thankfully, things are civil between the two.
Liechtenstein | Lili Zwingli, age 15
She’s the darling, adoptive younger sister of Basch (Switzerland). She has a big heart and helps out on her brother’s farm wherever she can, and because she spends so much time on the farm, she’s gotten decently close to Elizabeta. She enjoys feeding, brushing, and cuddling her two angora rabbits on her free time, as well as knitting. Sometimes she’ll submit her bunnies to be participants in rabbit shows (Cocoa has 1 and Cinna-bun has 3).
Poland | Feliks Łukasiewicz, age 19
He has a fierce anxiety towards strangers, and upon a first meeting, he'll act very shy. Once he gets used to someone, he'll act goofy and a bit childish, clinging onto his closest friends. He attends college for a degree in fashion design and marketing. He is also very opinionated. He often drags his friends to Francis’ patisserie for cute aesthetic pictures.
Prussia | Gilbert Beilschmidt, age 24
He comes off as rude, loud and self-centered, but he’s actually incredibly sweet and loyal almost to a fault. He’s catholic and takes his religion seriously to the point of keeping a cross necklace with him nearly all the time. While he wanted to join the army like the rest of his family, his albinism keeps him from being able to. Because of this, many members of the family see him as the Family Disappointment™, causing a strain between him and them. Unrelated, but when Ludwig lived with him, he caught Gilbert trying to play all three parts of Suite en trio, Op. 59: I. Serenade by himself with all three instruments at 2 in the morning.
Switzerland | Basch Zwingli, age 25
He’s an intimidating man with a soft heart. He owns a farm that has been in his family for generations, and it’s a job that he’s greatly proud of and fiercely protective over. He has technically adopted Lili as a daughter, but they both view each other as siblings. Regardless, Francis has still referred to him as a DILF before. He doesn’t understand what it means, and Elizabeta has assured him that he doesn't want to. On a more pure note, he enjoys attending rabbit shows whenever there’s any in the area, and has encouraged Lili to participate in them with hers.
Africa
Seychelles | Veronique Bonnefoy, age 17
She’s a southern country girl with a big heart. She's a bit sloppy and has the tendency to laze around when the weather gets warmer. She often laments over her being lonely to her friends, especially to Alfred and Matthew. She enjoys cooking, singing, and dancing. She takes after her brother figure (technically adoptive father), Francis, being a bit of a romantic herself. She’s in her senior year of high school, and is excited to be done with it. Once she ate pizza rolls in front of Francis and he almost cried.
Asia
China | Yao Wang, age 19
He’s a (mostly) easy-going person, if not a bit of a hermit. He works as a waiter currently, but attends several courses in hopes of getting his food-handlers permit to, one day, open his own authentic Chinese food restaurant. He lives with his 5 other siblings, all of which jokingly refer to him as “grandpa” due to how often he complains about back pain and makes acupuncture appointments every 2 weeks. When his 6th sibling, Kiku, moved out for college, he was pretty salty. In his free time, he mostly plays Mahjong the practices the Érhù. He’s unabashedly likes and collects cute things such as small charms and plushies.
Japan | Kiku Honda, age 19
While, at first glance, he seems quiet and serious, he can actually be quite goofy and irresponsible with his money, buying anime memorabilia and American comic books. It’s something that one of his roommates, Ludwig, lectures him about quite a bit. His other roommate, Feliciano, sees nothing wrong with it. He attends college for a degree in animation. He enjoys messing with machines and drawing.
South Korea | Im Yong Soo, age 16
He’s a hyperactive young man with strong aspirations when it comes to schooling. He shows the upmost respect to strangers and his elders alike, but when he’s around friends and immediate family he tends to be more loud and silly. He’s currently knee deep in the K-pop wave sweeping the world and practices idol dances on tiktok.
Taiwan | Mei Xiao, age 18
She is a strong-willed, fashionable young woman, but she's also said to have become more of a nervous type in recent times, unable to stop worrying. She has the tendency to be a bit smart-mouthed with a somewhat quick temper. Other than that, she has a sweet and cheerful disposition. She lives with all of her siblings (China, Japan, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Korea, and Thailand) and works as a hostess as a restaurant while she takes a break from schooling.
Mediterranean
France | Francis Bonnefoy, age 24
He's someone who does things at his own pace and has an abundance of affectionate expressions for friends, family, and strangers alike. He owns his own patisserie which has become increasingly popular as a spot for dates and hipsters to eat cute, artfully made sweets and drink aesthetically pleasing coffees and teas. He loves culture and the arts, as well as paintings and clothing.
North Italy | Feliciano Vargas, age 20
He's a cheerful guy who can be a little bit of a crybaby. While he relies on his friends a lot, he deeply cares for them. He's attending college for a fine arts degree where he shares a dorm room with Ludwig and Kiku. He enjoys painting, singing and designing clothes. Also, while only a few people know this, he can play both acoustic and electric guitar. He’s in a garage band with Ludwig, Kiku, and Gilbert
South Italy | Lovino Vargas, age 22
He constantly starts arguments and fights, however he’s also a bit of a coward. He has the ability to be hardworking, but often doesn’t out of laziness. While he’ll never admit it, he’s quite the hopeless romantic, striving to find someone who will love him despite his flaws. He’s in college to obtain a bachelor's in agricultural studies with a minor in history, but absolutely refused to share a dorm with his younger brother, who he often teases about choosing to get a ‘useless art degree.’ He enjoys gardening, dancing, and playing the acoustic guitar in his free time. He also likes sketching, but due to feeling insecure, he never shows people his work, or even tells them that he does it.
Spain | Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, age 24
While he can be oblivious and even insensitive, he’s a generally friendly person with a cheerful deposition. He works as a bartender in a decently popular bar in the downtown of his city that’s within walking distance of his house. When he’s not working, he enjoys playing the flamenco guitar and practicing dancing. Since he’s very sociable, before work, he typically stops by Francis’ pastry shop to talk to him as he closes up.
Also, did you know that, in canon, Feliciano can play electric guitar and Ludwig can play the drums?? What I’m saying is: punk garage band w/ Kiku on vocals. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.
#hetalia imagines#aph imagines#aph america#aph canada#aph china#aph england#aph france#aph russia#aph germany#aph japan#aph italy#aph romano#aph nordics#aph baltics#aph taiwan#human au#rules
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Morning Fears [Chapter One]
Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!
Summary: Charlotte Harper met Dylan Hemmings her freshman year of college when the two girls were randomly assigned to be roommates. With Dylan came her father, Luke. Charlotte never expected Dylan to become her best friend and she certainly never expected her small crush on Luke to become anything more. But when Dylan left her alone at their graduation party and Luke offered to take Charlotte home, their lives changed. | This is an AU in which Luke is a single father (aged 40/41) and Charlotte is a recent college graduate (22).
Word Count: 14.2k
Author’s Note: Even if you’ve read the previous version, this one has seven thousand more words and is a bit different. The next chapter will be significantly different so I recommend reading to catch up! This can also be found on Wattpad!
Chapter Two | Chapter Three
“So, how does it feel to be a college graduate?”
Charlotte Harper, who had spent at least ten minutes staring at the pale pink cocktail sitting on the table in front of her, lost in her own thoughts, lifted her head at the sound of his voice. She blinked, ridding herself of the fog that clouded her brain, before she paused to take in the increasingly familiar sight of Luke Hemmings, the father of her random freshman year roommate-turned best friend. The moment she met his eye, Luke smiled warmly at her and took the empty seat to her right before he placed a glass of water onto the table and slid it across the black tablecloth until it rested in front of her.
Charlotte mumbled a quiet thank you, her voice lost in the noise of the graduation party surrounding them, before she took a sip and contemplated how to answer his question.
“It doesn’t feel that much different, if I’m honest,” she answered with a slight shrug as she tapped her nails against the plastic glass. “I kind of thought I’d wake up and feel like a different person but maybe it just hasn’t hit me yet.” She paused for a beat of silence and returned her gaze to the tablecloth in front of her before she shrugged again. “Maybe it won’t hit me until I finish grad school and am really, truly done. Whatever it is, it just doesn’t really feel like an accomplishment, you know? It doesn’t feel as powerful as I thought it would.”
Luke, who had felt an immense sense of pride upon seeing Charlotte cross the stage with more regalia than almost anyone else, frowned at her answer and shifted in his seat to move closer to her. He reached out to her, his touch gentle and warm against her skin as he took her hand in his. “It is an accomplishment,” he reminded her gently, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the thumping bass of a top-forty remix. “You have worked so hard these last four years. Everyone could see it by the ten pounds of cords and medallions you wore today.”
When a small laugh escaped her lips, Luke smiled and gently squeezed Charlotte’s hand. She felt a surge of energy rush through her body, something akin to a jolt of lightning, at his touch and bit back a sigh of content as she attempted to focus on the words leaving his lips.
“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished these last four years, Charlotte. You’re not the same person I met when I moved Dylan into her dorm room four years ago. You’ve grown so much and surpassed any and all expectations for you. It might not feel like it until you graduate for good but you’ve done something incredible. I know your parents are beyond proud of you. They gushed the entire ceremony,” he informed her with a grin, “and I know it might not mean much, but I’m proud of you, too.”
Charlotte could feel her cheeks begin to burn at Luke’s compliment. She knew that beneath the layer of foundation she’d applied early that morning, her cheeks were likely tinted pink and she hoped that her hair would cover her burning ears as she smiled at Luke’s encouraging words. She’d always been in awe of how quickly he could switch from being the goofy dad-next-door-stereotype, tripping over thin air and dancing to classic rock, to a pillar of moral support. It had always been a gift of his, though, and it had always been one of the things that Charlotte appreciated most about him. Hearing him tell her exactly what she needed to hear made her heart feel as if it would beat out of her chest and she couldn’t appreciate it more.
“It actually means a lot to me,” she said with a nod, a small smile on her lips as her tone conveyed just how sincerely she appreciated the encouragement. “Thank you, Luke.”
Luke, pleased with Charlotte’s smile and the obvious sincerity in her tone, nodded his head at her and gave her another soft smile. He kept his eyes on her for a long moment, a look that she couldn’t read in his eyes, before he turned his head to glance at the packed dance floor, his hand never leaving hers.
Though she’d known him for four years at that point, Charlotte had never understood why she had always wanted to impress Luke. From the moment they met, she had been desperate to gain his approval. She wanted him to be proud of her, wanted him to see her as an adult who could take care of herself rather than simply seeing her as some dumb kid who needed an adult to hold her hand and walk her through life. She wanted him to see her as an equal, as a partner, and not just his daughter’s best friend.
She knew that he probably meant he was proud of her in the same way that he was proud of Dylan, it still thrilled her to know that he’d at least taken notice. It thrilled her to know that she’d at least gotten that far.
If she truly sat down and thought about it, if she let her mind wander to the subject of Luke long enough, she would have realized that the reason she was so desperate to make him see her as an adult, to make him proud, was because of the crush she’d had on him since the day they met. After spending hours watching him lift boxes and look incredible while cracking the best, lamest dad jokes she had ever heard, something she hadn’t expected to like so much, she couldn’t help falling for him.
Her crush had only gotten worse the more she interacted with him and she was reminded of just how deep it ran as she glanced at the exposed sliver of skin peeking out of the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.
Charlotte tried to be discreet, only looking when Luke glanced out at the partygoers milling about the dance floor, as she allowed her eyes to rake over the silver necklace that she’d never seen Luke without. She worked to memorize every detail of the silver chain before her gaze continued downward to take in the deep burgundy of his button-down. She bit at the inside of her cheek to stop a groan from leaving her lips as her eyes raked over the tight black pants covering his thighs, the same ones he’d worn to the graduation ceremony earlier that day, and she wanted to drop her head to the table and ask for forgiveness as she imagined sitting on them.
“Are you alright?”
Charlotte blinked at the suddenness of Luke’s question and nodded quickly as she averted her gaze to the dance floor. She removed her hand from his grasp and attempted to discreetly wipe her sweating palm on the tablecloth before she took a sip of water. “Fine,” she hummed after she cleared her throat. “I’m okay. Just a little tired. It’s been a long day.”
She couldn’t see it but Luke smiled at Charlotte’s flustered state. He nodded at her rushed words and said, “I can imagine.” He paused, following her gaze out to the dance floor, before he returned his full attention to her. “Do you have a ride home?”
“Dylan and Alex are supposed to give me a ride,” she informed him as she chanced a glance around the room, searching for her best friend’s familiar head of curly blonde hair. However, no matter how hard she looked, Charlotte couldn’t spot Dylan anywhere. Upon coming up empty handed, she frowned and reached for her cellphone. “Uh, at least, I hope they’re going to give me a ride home.”
As Charlotte unlocked her phone, Luke adopted the same frown she had worn only seconds before. “Dylan left half an hour ago,” he informed her.
“Fuck,” Charlotte whispered as she glanced at the message thread between her and Dylan. A text containing the same information, letting her know that Dylan and Alex had opted to head home early, greeted her and seemed to mock her as she stared at the too-bright screen. Charlotte let out a huff and her frown deepened as mumbled, “Well, Uber it is, then,” and tapped at the icon on her cellphone.
“I could take you home,” Luke offered with a slight shrug as he watched Charlotte tap at her phone. “I know it’s probably safe for you to take an Uber but I don’t like the idea of you alone with a stranger so late at night.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she refused with a shake of her head as she glanced up at him. “It’s fine, honestly. You probably have something better to do than drive me home, anyway. It’s really not a big deal.”
Luke laughed, a quiet sound, as he shook his head. “I cleared my day for the ceremony and the party. I’m all yours,” he informed her with a smile. “If you want me to take you home, I don’t mind at all. I don’t have any other plans.”
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, uncertainty bubbling in the pit of her stomach, before she nodded slowly. Luke’s offer sounded much more desirable than taking an Uber back to her apartment, she’d always had the worst luck with drivers, so she agreed. “If you’re sure it’s not a bother,” she said, “thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m not going to lie, I hate taking cabs or Ubers or something if I’m alone. My mom watches all those, like, Sixty Minutes type shows and is always telling me how dangerous they are. Every time someone goes missing, she sends me a text and reminds me not to go anywhere on my own. It freaks the fuck out of me.”
Luke, though he had never been an overbearing parent himself, could understand where Charlotte’s mother was coming from. He didn’t like taking her side, he never really liked her at all, if he was honest with himself, but he could sympathize with her on the issue of ride-share apps.
“I can understand where she’s coming from,” he told Charlotte as he offered her his hand to help her out of her chair. “It’s dangerous out there. I’m glad you and Dylan are practically attached at the hip. Makes me feel better knowing that you both have someone to watch out for you,” he said as he began leading her out of the ballroom.
Charlotte would usually offer a rebuttal, some kind of snarky comment about agreeing with her mother or treating her like a child, but she chose to bite her tongue as she allowed Luke to lead her out of the venue. Silence, not awkward or uncomfortable, fell over them as they entered the elevator and Charlotte found her mind clouded with a frustrating mixture of lust, guilt, and nerves as she allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts once more.
Being alone with Luke felt new and unnerved her as the elevator traveled down from the rooftop bar they’d spent their night in. She didn’t know how to behave without Dylan’s presence, questions of propriety running through her mind as she risked a glance at him from the corner of her eye.
Luke had become a parent young, only nineteen when Dylan was born, and despite the hardships he faced as a single parent, Charlotte had always noted that the years have been kind to him. Despite his age, or maybe because of it, Charlotte still found Luke to be incredibly handsome. The thought returned to her as she took in the soft curls of his blonde hair and the light stubble lining his jaw. The first thing she noticed about him when they met was the beautiful blue of his eyes, perpetually shining with kindness and warmth, and they’ve always made her want to lose herself in them. His nose, pointed at the end and an odd feature for her to find so endearing, has always made her want to grin and that was how she knew that she was completely fucked.
When the image of waking up beside Luke, kissing his nose and mumbling a soft morning greeting, flashed through her brain, she realized that she didn’t just find her best friend’s father attractive. She had an honest-to-god crush on him and she couldn’t seem to help but fall harder and harder, despite the nagging feeling of guilt that bubbled in the pit of her stomach.
Charlotte was never one to have a schoolgirl crush, had never been boy crazy, and those closest to her assumed that she’d never settle down. They assumed that she’d spend the rest of her life working, chasing success, and that she would be happy doing so. And for a long time, she believed that, too.
She sometimes wondered if she was broken, if there was something wrong with her for not having crush after crush or falling in love with perfect strangers as her best friend seemed to do, but she never really tried to change it. She accepted it, told herself that maybe love wasn’t for her, and moved on.
That was what surprised her the most about her feelings for Luke. The fact that her crush persisted, that it went farther than a simple physical attraction, had sent her into a tailspin at first. She had spent the night hyperventilating, worried that something really was wrong with her, until she reasoned that she just liked the unattainable. She reasoned that having a crush on Luke was safe, that nothing would ever happen, and that it was a healthy way to feel something without actually having to get emotionally involved with another person.
However, as she stared at Luke’s reflection in the shiny metal elevator doors, she realized that this was more than a crush. She had never felt the way she felt for Luke, had never wanted anyone so badly, and she realized that it was a genuine feeling of romantic interest settling into the pit of her stomach, right alongside the guilt. She genuinely wanted him, she was certain of that, but what remained uncertain was the question of whether Luke would ever want her back.
When the robotic voice announced their arrival at their destination, Charlotte barely paid it any mind. She moved on autopilot, following Luke out of the elevator and toward the parking lot as she stared at his back.
She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he actually did want her. What would their relationship even look like if something were to happen between the two of them? What would Dylan think? What would her parents think? Would it be an actual relationship or a meaningless hookup? Was she wrong to want him? Did it make her a bad person to want to be with him? Would it make him a bad person to want to be with her?
Those questions swirled through her mind as she followed Luke through the parking lot, each hitting her harder than the last. She didn’t notice Luke slowing as they approached his car, didn’t notice him come to a stop, and she only realized he was staring at her when she bumped into his chest.
“You’re spacing out on me again.”
Charlotte blinked, shook her head to rid herself of her swirling thoughts, and stepped back as she apologized for bumping into him. She noticed that Luke looked somewhat concerned, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze intense, despite the teasing tone to his voice. “I’m okay,” she assured him quickly, a small smile quirking her lips at his show of concern. “Just thinking. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Luke assured her as he opened the passenger door for her. “We all get lost in our thoughts sometimes.” Charlotte watched, her eyes glued to his figure, as he rounded the car and settled into the driver’s seat. Before he buckled his seatbelt, he turned to her and said, “You don’t have to, of course, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. I can’t promise I won’t laugh if it’s embarrassing, but I will be here to listen.”
Charlotte playfully rolled her eyes at Luke’s teasing and shook her head as she watched him buckle his seatbelt. A quiet laugh escaped her lips despite herself and Luke looked pleased with himself as the sound reached his ears. He grinned to himself, immensely fond of the soft look on her face, before he connected his phone to the car’s bluetooth and pressed play on a classic rock playlist that he knew Charlotte would love.
A blinding grin settled on Charlotte’s lips as the sound of an Ozzy Osbourne track filled the car. As they sat at a red light, Luke watched her with a soft smile on his lips. She was lost in the moment, quietly singing along to Mr. Crowley, and it warmed his heart to see her look so content. He was reminded of the girl he met four years ago, carefree and happy, as he watched watched her dance in her seat. She looked carefree and happy, unburdened by the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Luke was happy to see some of her stress melt away, if only for a moment.
Luke noticed that Charlotte suddenly looked every bit the twenty-two year old she was and he was both completely enamored and battling the thoughts swirling in his head as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
Though he’d known her for four years at that point, Luke had never been able to figure Charlotte out. She’d always been a source of enchantment for him, a figure that he’d wanted to understand but never could, and he’d sometimes forget just how little life experience she actually had as she always seemed to be such an old soul. But as he watched her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye at every red light with the wind blowing through her hair and the moonlight illuminating her beautiful face, Luke almost hated himself for thinking of her as anything other than his best friend’s daughter.
A war raged within his mind as the playlist of classic rock continued to fill the silence. Luke had never been interested in younger women. Even as a twenty-something himself, he was interested in women a few years older. He always looked at their experience as a bonus, their wisdom as a necessity, and he didn’t imagine that would change as he got older himself. As he saw his colleagues date younger and younger women, appearing at work events with girls younger than Dylan and Charlotte on their arm, he wondered if he would end up becoming one of them.
He never wanted to, never wanted to be that person, but he knew that he couldn’t help who he was attracted to. Being interested in Charlotte was a new feeling for him, something that he never imagined he would feel, and it served as a constant source of guilt for him beginning the moment he realized he felt more for her than he should.
Luke knew that Charlotte had a crush on him. He had known since the moment they met how she felt about him. He could see the pink blush tinting her cheeks and ears, could see the nervous smiles and careful looks she leveled at him, and it was cute. Dylan told him once, not long after she and Charlotte really became friends, that Charlotte didn’t believe in love and that crushes weren’t really things she had experienced growing up and it flattered him to know that he could be that for her.
As Luke stared at Charlotte at the final red light on the drive to her apartment, her Freddie Mercury impression bringing a smile to his lips, he realized that he couldn’t quite pin down how he felt about her. He liked her, as a parent likes their child’s friend, that much he knew for certain. But the rest of his feelings remained an uncertain jumble in the pit of his stomach as he began to sing along to Bohemian Rhapsody with her.
Seeing her smile so widely, relaxing into her seat and channeling her inner Freddie Mercury, brought a smile to Luke’s lips. He wanted northing more than to continue driving, to bypass the parking lot of her apartment building and let her continue enjoying herself, but he knew that the night had to end somewhere. As the final chords of Bohemian Rhapsody rang through the car, Charlotte seemed to realize where they were and breathed a quiet sigh Luke was sure he wasn’t meant to hear as he pulled into a visitor parking space.
As quickly as her genuine smile faded, a smile that Luke can instantly pinpoint as being fake replaced it. “Thank you for driving me home,” Charlotte nodded, her appreciation genuine though her smile was not. “I really appreciate it. And, uh, sorry for the mini-concert. You have great taste in music.”
“The concert was the best part of the ride,” Luke assured her with a smile. “And you don’t have to thank me. I was happy to do it. Have fun with your parents in the morning. Dylan told me you guys were going to get breakfast and do some sightseeing before you head home for a few days."
“Oh.” Charlotte nodded slowly, her fake smile dropping as she glanced out the windshield at the apartment building in front of them. “Um, plans changed a little bit. My mom got a migraine during the ceremony. The lady behind you guys was wearing a perfume that didn’t sit well with her. They left as soon as we got a picture at the end of the ceremony and drove home. I’m driving back by myself tomorrow.”
Luke’s own smile fell as he watched Charlotte attempt to keep her facial expression neutral and her tone even. He could tell now that her parents disappearance was at least part of why she had been so melancholy at the party and he wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but she quickly shook her head and returned the fake smile to her lips.
“It’s not a big deal,” she assured him with a shrug. “A few of my cousins are graduating high school on Friday so we’re having a big party on Sunday for all of us. We’ll just celebrate then.”
Luke’s frown deepened as he watched Charlotte attempt to put on a happy face. He noticed that she had always done that, had always attempted to please everyone and keep them from knowing when something truly bothered her, but he could see beyond that attempt as he stared at her. He knew that he shouldn’t attempt to fix it, knew that he should let it go and tell Dylan to check in with her later, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that.
“So you’re going to be alone tonight?” he questioned, his tone reflecting his concern. “And on your drive tomorrow?” When Charlotte repeated her shrug but said nothing, Luke’s frown deepened. He shook his head and glanced at her apartment building to think for a moment before he returned his gaze to her and said the first thing that came to his mind. “You should be celebrating tonight, Charlotte. You should be too hungover to drive tomorrow. You should be having the time of your life, celebrating a milestone.” He hesitated for a moment, let a beat of silence pass, before he said, “You should be surrounded by people who love you tonight.”
A warmth settled in the pit of Charlotte’s stomach as Luke’s words washed over her. The genuine concern in his tone, the softness of his voice as he relayed his dismay at her having to spend the night alone, brought a soft smile to Charlotte’s face as she shrugged yet again. “That’s just the way it goes for me,” she informed him with a sad sigh. “This isn’t the first time I’ve celebrated something important alone and it won’t be the last. I’ll probably still be too hungover to drive tomorrow,” she told him with a slight smile, “but it’ll be because of Chopped reruns and a bottle of wine. And, I mean, like I said earlier, this doesn’t really feel like that big a deal anyway. I got to party with you and D and Alex so that was enough.”
Luke stared at her, the frown not leaving his lips. Dylan had told him before that Charlotte had a fairly lonely childhood, that her parents often paid more attention to her siblings than to her and that she had learned to deal with disappointment in a way that broke Dylan’s heart, but to hear Charlotte so nonchalantly shrug off her parents leaving her graduation broke his heart.
When Luke opened his mouth to point out that she shouldn’t have to be alone, that the party was a surface-level gesture, if anything, Charlotte truly laughed. “If you’re so concerned about me being alone, please feel free to come up and watched an episode or two of Chopped with me. I have to warn you, though, I’ve seen all of them so I can tell you who wins the moment I see the chefs appear.”
Charlotte’s playful smile made Luke laugh, his frown lightening for a brief moment, before he hesitated. He knew that it wasn’t a good idea. He knew that the best thing for him to do would be to go home and possibly send Dylan over to ensure that Charlotte didn’t spend the night alone, or at least get her to send Charlotte a text, but Luke has found himself making bad decisions in Charlotte’s presence and this proved to be no different.
Before he could stop himself, Luke nodded. “I haven’t watched much Chopped but I guess I’ll just have to try and choose my own winner before you can tell me, then,” he teased, a soft smile on his lips, as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Maybe while I’m at it, I can keep you from getting too hungover to drive home tomorrow.”
Charlotte playfully rolled her eyes at Luke’s teasing comment and sighed, “My hero,” before she laughed and reached to unbuckle her seatbelt. Before she could open the car door for herself, Luke rounded the vehicle and opened the door for her. When she thanked him, Luke nodded his acknowledgment and gestured for her to lead the way up the stairs.
Luke had only been to Charlotte’s apartment twice before, the first time to help her move into the apartment and the second to help her and Dylan put together a birthday surprise for Alex. He remembered it being cozy, small but comfortable, with black and white and blue pieces decorating the entire space. He remembered noting a lack of photos on the walls, a lack of art and personal effects, and it all made sense to him after Dylan told him about Charlotte’s life. He understood why there were no reminders of her childhood or her family scattered around and he wondered if anything had changed since his last visit.
As Charlotte dug through her bag for her keys, she mumbled, “I have to warn you before you come, my place looks like a hurricane hit it. Between packing for the trip home, getting ready for graduation, and work, I haven’t had much time to clean.”
Luke rolled his eyes at Charlotte’s words because he knew her. He knew that she was the tidiest twenty-something he’d ever met, like would ever meet. Every time he visited the dorm that she and Dylan shared, the only cleaning supplies he found were tucked away in Charlotte’s closet. Once, he’d even walked in on Charlotte cleaning the apartment that Dylan lived in alone after they both moved into one bedroom places of their own.
Luke imagined a pair of shoes scattered near the door or makeup left on the bathroom counter but he felt a jolt of surprise the moment he entered the small space. Her black duffel bag had been left open on the dining table with clothes scattered around it and a pile of shoes sitting on one of the chairs. A wine glass was left on the coffee table and he raised an eyebrow. Luke shook his head, an amused smile on his lips, as Charlotte grinned sheepishly at him. By her standards, the place really did look like a mess, but he found it to be charming. It was just another glimpse into a side of her that he hadn’t, until that point, been privy to.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked him, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts as she stepped around him to grab the glass from her coffee table. “I have wine, obviously,” she laughed as she scrambled to tidy the mess that he knew was killing her. “I have Jack, some rum, some vodka… I also have, like, non-alcoholic stuff, too. Grape juice, I think, and some water. I have La Croix that Dylan drinks and I think there’s a soda in my fridge but, honestly, I probably wouldn’t drink it. I feel like it’s been in there since I moved in and I doubt it’s any good anymore. I should through that away…”
Luke remained rooted in his spot by the door for a long moment, just watching with an amused smile on his lips, before he stepped toward the living area and began helping. He tidied up the coffee table, straightened a stack of papers and returned books to the shelf that served as a television stand, and by the time Charlotte noticed, he had already folded the oversized throw that had been lying in a heap on her couch.
Before Charlotte could argue that he didn’t have to help, he shook his head. “I know that it’ll be on your mind the entire time if your apartment is “messy” and someone is here to witness it,” he said as he adjusted the throw and straightened a pillow, “even if you know that someone has a daughter whose definition of cleaning is kicking things under her bed or throwing them into a closet. How did you even deal with sharing a living space with Dylan?”
“It was a challenge and taxing on my mental health,” Charlotte laughed as she zipped her duffel bag, now filled to the brim with clothes, and placed it into a chair in the corner, “but I feel like she gets it pretty honest.”
“Hey,” Luke laughed, an exaggerated frown on his face as he narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m a busy man. I clean when I can.”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever actually seen the desk in your office,” she laughed as she stepped around him once more to get into the kitchen. “Is there actually a desk under all those papers or do you just have so many files that they’re basically a house of cards, standing on their own?”
“There is an actual desk,” Luke confirmed as he leaned against the doorframe and watched her place her wine glass into the sink. “But the papers are holding their shape pretty well at this point. I feel like if I moved something, they’d all come tumbling down.”
Charlotte laughed at Luke’s admission and shook her head as he shrugged, unable to defend his actions. She beamed at him, a triumphant grin that made him smile in earnest, before she grabbed a clean glass from her cabinet and asked, “So, drink?”
“Just water, please,” he requested, watching as she poured her own glass full of grape juice instead of wine. “I see you’ve decided against the hangover. My plan is working.”
“Mm,” she hummed as she reached for another glass from her cabinet, “you can tell yourself that if you’d like.” Luke shook his head at her playful teasing, biting back an even bigger smile as he watched her settle into the personality Dylan loved to gush about but he had yet to see, and nodded his thanks as she handed him his glass.
“I figured I’d be annoyed enough with the traffic,” she explained with a shrug, “I hate California traffic more than just about anything.” She paused for a moment and glanced at her glass for a moment before she returned her gaze to him and smiled. “Juice always feels better when you drink it out of a real glass,” she defended as he grinned at her choice. When she held up her glass, asking for a toast, Luke humored her before they both took a sip of their respective drinks. “Now, Chopped marathon or no?”
Luke smiled at her and gestured for her to lead the way before he followed her back to the couch. “You’re a dad, you like technology, I’m sure you can navigate my Hulu. Chopped is on my ‘keep watching’ tab. Do you mind if I change out of this dress super quick? It’s stupid cute but I feel like I might die if I have to stay in it any longer.”
“What kind of monster would I be if I let you die?” Luke asked with a laugh as he grabbed the remote from her outstretched hand. “Take your time, get comfortable. This is your place, after all. This will give me a head-start in trying to figure out who wins before you can spoil it for me, anyway,” he teased as he settled into his seat and tossed an arm over the back of the couch.
“Ah, a man with a plan,” Charlotte nodded, her tone light as she laughed and placed her glass onto the coffee table. “I like it! I’ll be back. You can choose whatever episode you want. They’re all super good, though,” she informed him before she bounded down the short hallway and shut her bedroom door behind her.
Luke laughed at her words and Charlotte tried not to let herself dwell on the sound as she rummaged through her drawers for a pair of comfortable (but cute and appropriate) pajamas. She tried not to think about the fact that Luke, a man that she’d had a crush on for nearly four years, was sitting on her couch, waiting to watch Chopped with her. She tried not to think about the fact that they had fallen into a sort of a routine, laughing and joking with one another like friends. She tried not to think about the way that he was treating her less like a kid and more like an adult, not quite the way she always wished but close enough to make her feel like inviting him up wasn’t a complete mistake.
As she tossed a t-shirt, one of the few without holes or bleach stains, onto her bed, she tried not to think about how badly she wanted this to be more than Luke just pitying her. She tried not to think about how badly she wanted this to be him, genuinely interested in her, waiting for her after a date or a long night at work. She tried not to think about how nice it would be to come home to Luke, waiting to watch bad television with her and laugh as she ultimately spoiled every episode. She tried not to think about how badly she’d like to curl up beside him, his arms wrapped around her and his fingers gently combing through her hair as he listened to her ramble about anything and everything. She tried not to think about how nice it would be to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers and his hands on her hips.
She tried not to think about how she shouldn’t want anything with Luke, especially not a real future.
But she couldn’t help herself as the overwhelming flood of thoughts rushed to the forefront of her mind as she grabbed a pair of shorts (possibly the longest ones in her collection) and a pair of fuzzy Christmas socks, decorated with penguins because her toenail polish had long ago started to chip.
She stood there, staring at the pile of clothes on her bed, for a long moment. Every thought swirling in her brain threatened to devour her, threatened to swallow her whole, and it nearly overwhelmed her as she began to pace the small space between her bed and dresser.
She felt everything so clearly: the guilt of knowing that if anything were to happen, Dylan would be the one to get hurt; the anxiety of not knowing how Luke felt about her, if he felt anything at all; the rational, reasonable portion of her brain telling her that wanting a man in his mid-forties was a terrible idea; the impulsive part of her, telling her to just go for it and figure it all out in the morning.
Her entire body felt like it was on fire and she wanted nothing more than to grab a bottle of wine and drink until she felt the pleasant warmth that came with it, forgetting why she was so flustered in the first place.
But as she glanced at her bedside clock, she realized that she’d been standing there for too long so she quickly stripped out of her party dress, dropping the pretty black garment onto her bed, and pulled on her pajamas. She attempted to calm her racing heart, took a few deep breaths and steadied herself by her bedroom door, before she returned to the living room and settled at the opposite end of the couch, leaving as much space between her and Luke as physically possible.
“So, did you figure out who is going to win yet?” she asked, desperately attempting to keep her tone light, as she reached for her glass. “Because I know who it is.”
Luke rolled his eyes at her comment and turned his head to glance at her. “Not yet,” he hummed before he fully took in the sight of her. His eyes raked over her form and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She sat there, her knees pressed against her chest, clad in a pair of pale pink shorts and a too-big t-shirt that he knew came from some sort of event. The penguin socks, a gift from her grandmother, were his favorite part and the sight of them made his smile grow wider.
“What?” Charlotte questioned, her eyebrows quirked in confusion and a slight frown on her lips.
Luke could see her flushed cheeks, could see the mild embarrassment brush over her, so he knew that she understood what his look of fondness was for. She, like anyone else, just wanted to hear him say it. So he shook his head, a smile still on his lips, as he said, “You look so cute, Charlotte. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this dressed down. Even when you stayed over at my place with Dylan for Christmas a few years ago, you were in jeans every time I saw you.”
“I’m not cute,” Charlotte huffed, her eyebrows furrowed and a pout on her lips as she shifted in her seat and returned her glass to the table. “And, I mean, I’m sure you’ve seen me in clothes that aren’t, I don’t know, clothes? I know I wore shorts at the beach and I wore that royal blue bikini at the pool.”
“I didn’t see it,” Luke assured her with a shrug, “always jeans. Or, more recently, work clothes. Blazers and pencil skirts. Definitely never seen the fuzzy penguin socks but I can assure you that those are my favorite, by the way.”
“My nana bought them for me for Christmas last year,” Charlotte explained with a huff, “she buys me penguin stuff for Christmas every year because they’re my favorite animal. Don’t be mean about my fuzzy socks.”
Luke laughed as he watched Charlotte curl her feet beneath her in an attempt to cover the aforementioned socks before she turned her head away from him to pretend to focus on the television. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether he would be crossing any boundaries, before he decided to try his luck and reached out to gently tug at her ankle.
“I’m not being mean about your fuzzy socks,” he assured her with a soft smile as he waited for her to straighten her legs, “I wasn’t making fun of them. I love them, they really are cute.” When Charlotte straightened her legs, settling with her back against the arm of the couch and her feet near Luke, he gently patted her leg and said, “Penguins are my favorite animal, too.”
“Really? Everyone thinks that a penguin is such a weird favorite animal but they’re just so cute! Watching them walk is the most fun thing. And baby penguins? They’re so fluffy! I got to hug a penguin once and I cried for, like, ten minutes.”
When Charlotte blinked, a look of realization dawning on her face, she huffed a breath and mumbled, “I don’t know why I just told you that. That’s fucking embarrassing.”
“No, it’s cute,” Luke laughed as he reached out to brush the top of her sock, the material soft beneath his fingers. “That’s adorable, Charlotte. It’s nice to see you like this, soft and sweet. I always see this tough exterior, this girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders who feels like she has to be perfect to even exist so it makes me really happy to see you relaxing a little bit.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure if she should shrug off Luke’s comment or if she should share her thoughts with him. She didn’t know if he would laugh at her, though she imagined he wouldn’t, or if he would play it all off as the way that life goes. She didn’t know how being candid with him, telling him the truth about her emotions and her feelings, would make him see her but something about him had always made her want to trust him. She had always wanted to confide in him, to be treated like an equal rather than a child, so she took a leap of faith and decided to talk to him.
“My family is kind of robotic,” Charlotte explained with a shrug as she picked at a fraying string on the hem of her t-shirt. “Perfection is the only thing they really understand, you know? Emotions aren’t our thing. My brother was, like, the definition of perfect. Star athlete, top of his class, got a good degree, got married; same with my sister. Neither of them ever really dealt with being human, I guess. At least, not openly. We all just pretended that feelings weren’t really a thing because they’re messy. They require you to communicate and our family doesn’t talk to each other. We occupied the same space for a while but we never really spoke to one another.”
Luke fell silent at Charlotte’s admission. Dylan had explained to him that opening up was hard for Charlotte to do, that she wasn’t one to trust easily and that it took her months to even begin talking about the good feelings, so to hear her Charlotte tell him a little bit about her life made Luke’s heart simultaneously sink and soar. His heart broke for her as he could see what living in a world where feelings weren’t allowed had done to her. He could see how the pressure to be perfect had affected her. But he could also see how those things made her stronger, how they made her more empathetic toward others. He saw her encourage Dylan to talk about her feelings, he saw her assure Dylan that perfection was overrated; he saw her tell her friends the things she wished her parents had told her.
As she spoke to him, as she confided in him, Luke realized that she had chosen to talk to him. He knew that there were only a few people in her life that she spoke to so to be one of the lucky ones, to be one of the ones that knew even a little bit about her life, thrilled Luke. He wanted her to know that she could speak to him, that he would be there to listen, so he told her as much.
“Feelings are messy,” he confirmed, his voice quiet as he reached out to brush his fingers along her shin, “but they’re what make us human. You shouldn’t have to pretend they don’t exist. You shouldn’t be ashamed of them. Talking about them is important and occupying the same space as someone but not really speaking to them isn’t really existing at all.”
Luke hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked on Charlotte’s form, and took in the soft smile on her lips. She looked content, almost happy, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He wanted her to know that there was someone, even if it was just him, that would be willing to listen to her. “I know that it might be weird but I’m here any time you need someone to talk to, Charlotte. Seeing you as human, seeing you like this, it makes me happy. It lets me know that you’re willing to be human and that’s something that took me a while to learn how to do.”
Charlotte smiled at Luke, a real smile, and stared at him for a moment. She could hear the sound of Ted announcing the basket ingredients in the background, could hear the humming of the small fan in her bedroom, but nothing seemed to be as loud as the beating of her heart as she took in the soft look on Luke’s face. He smiled at her, genuine and happy, and it kept her from hesitating as she whispered, “I like letting you see me like this.”
Luke wanted to believe that he imagined the softness in her tone of voice. He wanted to believe that she didn’t mean those words in the way that he knew she did. He wanted to believe that she just saw him as a positive adult figure but as he stared at her, really and truly looked at her, he knew that that wasn’t the case.
He could see the apprehension in her eyes as she glanced at him from beneath her lashes. He could see the admiration shining in her eyes, swimming alongside a bit of fear, and he found himself having to look away as she shifted just a little closer to him on the couch. He saw the fear of rejection in her eyes and he could tell that she was anticipating him judging her or maybe letting her down gently and he knew that he should. He knew that he should tell her that all he could ever be for her was an adult who could offer the parental advice she never got but something about her, something about seeing her drop her walls let him in, sent a pang of longing surging through his chest.
Luke felt for her something that he hadn’t in years, something that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again, and it sent an icy prickle of fear shooting down the base of his spine as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
He knew that it was a bad idea, that they would only hurt themselves in the end, but he couldn’t bring himself to crush her heart when she so willingly placed it into his hands. So, instead of moving away from her or nudging her back to the opposite side of the couch, he shifted his hand a little higher and traced his fingers along the exposed skin of her shin.
“I’m glad,” he finally answered, his voice just as quiet as hers had been, but Charlotte could feel the overwhelming sincerity in his tone as he gently squeezed her ankle. “I want you to be comfortable around me.”
Charlotte smiled at that and nodded at him. “I am,” she assured him, “more so than I ever thought I would be.”
A comfortable silence fell over the pair as her words settled into the air. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, anxious and unnerved as she decided to tell him what she figured he already knew. “You’ve always made me nervous,” she admitted with a small smile, her voice quiet as she watched his fingers trace nonsensical patterns across her skin. “But it’s better now. I can finally breathe around you.”
Luke, somewhat surprised at her confession, turned his head to glance at her. He knew that she’d always been nervous around him, could see that by the way she acted, but to hear her admit that he’d taken her breath away was something he hadn’t expected. Luke didn’t know how to respond, he wasn’t sure what he could tell her, so he settled for a warm smile and another gentle squeeze before they lapsed into another, more tense, silence.
Luke’s fingers left a trail of fire in their wake as they gently brushed across Charlotte’s skin. He could feel jolts of electricity, warm and pleasant, wherever his skin made contact with hers and it sent both their minds reeling. Neither of them knew how to handle the situation, neither of them knew what exactly this moment meant for them, but they both knew that they wanted to live in the moment forever.
Luke wanted to spend forever, unthinking and unbothered, sitting with Charlotte in a comfortable silence. Charlotte, too, enjoyed the atmosphere far more than she ever imagined she would. She didn’t want to break the spell that came with the silence, didn’t want to risk having to return to the awkward relationship between a young girl and her friend’s father that they’d previously shared, but she decided to take a chance as she met Luke’s eyes once more.
She stared into the blue, darker in the dim light of her apartment than she’d ever seen them, and found herself asking, “Is it bad that I really want to kiss you?”
The moment the words left her lips, Charlotte regretted them. She could feel her heart threatening to beat out of her chest as her mouth went dry. She wanted to look away from Luke, wanted to tear her legs away from his grasp and run and hide in her bedroom but she knew that she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to do anything other than sit and stare at him as he battled his own mind.
“Charlotte,” he whispered, his voice quiet as he tried not to hurt her. The tone of his voice told her everything that she needed to know and she felt desperate to move out of his grasp, desperate to get away from him. He could feel her attempting to tug her legs away from him and he could see the blush creeping up her neck and covering her cheeks as she shook her head.
“No, I know,” she nodded, her voice sounding close to tears as she reached out to swat at Luke’s hands. “I know, it’s dumb. I’m sorry. I, that shouldn’t have… I’m sorry. Fuck.”
“Charlotte,” Luke repeated as he kept his hands firm on her ankles to keep her in place. “Just wait a second,” he said, his voice still quiet as he reached out to pause the television show. Without the noise of Chopped in the background, the apartment fell silent around them.
Luke could hear Charlotte’s breathing as she tried not to cry, embarrassed tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she looked anywhere but directly at him.
“It’s not bad,” he assured her as he loosened his grip on her ankles. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he told her as he watched her sink back into the cushions of her couch. “I’m an old man,” he reminded her gently, his voice soft as he shook his head. “You shouldn’t want me. You should want someone your own age, someone young.”
“But I don’t,” she answered, her voice quiet and her eyes fixed into the most wide-eyed look of sincerity that Luke had ever seen. “I do want you. I know that I shouldn’t, but I do.” Charlotte hesitated for a moment, her heart in her throat, before she continued. “I’ve wanted you since we met and I know that it’s a bad idea. I know that it’s weird and complicated but can you just pretend that you want me, too? Just for tonight?”
Luke knew that he should have gotten up and left before anything happened. He knew that he should have told her no and kept his distance. But she jumped, took a flying leap off the highest peak, and expected to him to catch her. He couldn’t let her fall, not when he felt the same way about her, so he nodded his head.
He gave in to her, just as he always imagined he would if she ever got bold enough to ask.
“I want you, too. I know that I shouldn’t, but I do.”
At Luke’s confession, Charlotte felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. She found herself unable to breathe, unable to think, really, and she felt as if it was all a dream she would wake up from at any given moment. She didn’t know if he was just saying that out of pity, if he was simply playing along with her wishes and giving her what she wanted, but she decided that it would be enough for her.
If she only got one night with him, if she could only have him for a moment, she would take it.
She shifted closer to him, stopping just short of the cushion he sat on, and said, “Please, Luke, kiss me.”
Luke knew that he should refuse. At the very least, he knew that he should hesitate. Charlotte was his daughter’s best friend, a girl that he had seen grow from a shy eighteen-year-old to a confident twenty-something. She was never meant to make him feel this way.
But she stirred something in him that he never imagined she would and Luke couldn’t bring himself to refuse her.
The moment the words left her lips, he pulled Charlotte closer to him and reached out to gently cup her cheek before he pressed his lips to hers.
Luke felt any doubt that had swirled in the pit of his stomach that he shouldn’t be doing this disappear as a content sigh left her lips. He felt her relax against him, settling in as close as she could get with her knees pressing into the side of his thigh, as she reached up to tangle her fingers in his curls. At the feeling, Luke relaxed into the couch, sighing contentedly as he felt her lips move against his.
They lost themselves in one another, the world around them ceasing to exist as Charlotte focused on feeling what it was like to kiss Luke after four years of pining. As Luke brought his hands to her waist, fingers warm against her skin, Charlotte imagined that she could spend the rest of her life right there and she wouldn’t mind at all.
However, her lungs were not on the same page as her brain so she was forced to pull away from Luke and take a deep breath. As she blinked at him, her chest heaving and lips slightly swollen, Luke couldn’t help but reach out and gently brush his thumbs across her cheekbones.
He stared at her for a long moment, his heart hammering in his chest, before he whispered, “You’re so beautiful, Charlotte.”
The look in Luke’s eyes was as soft as his tone and it made Charlotte’s heart beat that much faster. She stared at him, smiling at the way his curls fell into his eyes, and shook her head at the image of him. She’d always wanted him to find her beautiful, had always wanted him to shower her with compliments and make her feel like the most important woman there was, and now that she had it, she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.
Hearing Luke call her beautiful made her feel like crying and she couldn’t help but think the same thing about him as she moved her hands and brushed the curls out of his eyes. Her fingertips trailed over his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, and dusted across his cheekbones. She attempted to memorize the feel of his skin beneath her fingers, soft and warm and real, and Luke’s eyes fluttered shut as she treated him as he was made of glass.
He couldn’t help thinking that their roles should be reversed, that he should be the one worshiping her, but he knew that she had wanted him for so long and had come to terms with her desire in a way that he had yet to. He knew that she felt for him something that he couldn’t understand, a love that he couldn’t fathom, so he resigned himself to let her take the reigns and take what she needed from their encounter.
As her fingers brushed his skin, a featherlight caress against his heated cheeks, Luke almost forgot that he had spoken until Charlotte returned his earlier sentiment with a whispered compliment of, “You are, too, Luke. You’re so beautiful.”
Luke didn’t understand how she could believe that. He didn’t understand how someone like her, young and beautiful and well on her way to making something spectacular out of her life, could think of him in that light but the reverence in her tone made him want to believe her. He wanted to believe that she saw him in that light, as someone who was worth her time, so he let himself fall into the fantasy.
“You make my heart feel like it’s going to beat out of my chest,” she confessed, her voice shaking as her fingers ran along his jawline and down the column of his throat to dip beneath the collar of his button-down. She rested them over his heart, her palm flat against his chest, and Luke opened his eyes to look at her once more.
He remembered that feeling, one he’d only gotten once before a long time ago, and he’s reminded of how confusing an onslaught of new feelings can be. He wanted to tell her that feeling everything at once, so intensely and so vividly, was simultaneously one of the best and worst feelings in the world but he imagined that that would only serve to remind her just how old he was. He didn’t want to remind her that he had so much more life experience than her, that he understood where she was coming from because he had already been there, so he didn’t.
Instead, Luke returned his hands to cup her cheeks and whispered, “Could I kiss you again?”
Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to respond verbally. Instead, she shifted so that she was a little more comfortable, tucked into his side, and tilted her head to return her lips to his.
The second kiss that they shared felt far different than the first, Charlotte imagined, as Luke’s hands moved from her cheeks. She felt a shiver run down her spine as Luke’s hands brushed the heated skin of her arms, his fingers a barely there presence as he made his way to her hips. Though she expected it, the gentle touch encompassed her and drove all thoughts of Luke out of her mind as she shifted to place a knee on either side of Luke’s thighs without breaking the kiss.
Luke’s grip on her thighs tightened as Charlotte shifted on his lap to get more comfortable. She could feel him hardening in the black pants that hugged his thighs just the way she liked and the idea that this could go beyond a makeout session on her couch had her returning her hands to Luke’s golden curls and tugging at the strands.
As Charlotte ran her fingers through his hair, Luke’s hands dipped beneath the hem of her t-shirt. His thumbs brushed her hipbones and he allowed a quiet groan to pass his lips as she shifted against him. He knew what she wanted, could feel the desire rolling off of her in waves as she crowded ever closer to him and tugged at his curls. He knew that her mind was clouding with lust and, ordinarily, Luke would take that to mean that he was doing his job. However, as he remembered exactly who was sitting on his lap, Luke gathered his wits and broke the kiss.
“Charlotte, honey,” he breathed, his voice quiet as he pulled away from her just enough to see her face, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”
Charlotte, with her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, opened her eyes and Luke could see the hazy confusion in them. He could see the sting of rejection flicker in her eyes before she shook her head.
“If you really don’t want me,” she whispered, her voice sounding just as broken as she felt, “then that’s fine. It hurts, yeah, but that’s okay. But if you’re trying to protect me or if you’re worried that I’m making a stupid decision and that I haven’t thought about it, then don’t. I know what I want, Luke, and what I want is you.”
Luke stared at her and she felt as if his eyes were piercing her soul as she met his gaze head-on. He wanted her, he really did, but he didn’t want her to wake up and regret the night they shared. He didn’t want to wake up and regret the night they shared. He wanted this to be the moment that she had dreamt of and, as he stared at her, he realized that anything he would agree to give her was exactly what she wanted.
“Are you sure about this, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice quiet as he gently brushed his thumbs across her heated skin once more. “Are you really sure you want me?”
Charlotte stared at him and Luke was amazed to find that no hesitation flickered across her face at all. She looked confident, certain, and Luke could see just how strongly she felt as she nodded her head.
“I’m so sure,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. She could see the concern written clearly on his face and she didn’t hesitate to move her hands from his hair to cup his cheeks. “I’m an adult, Luke,” she reminded him gently, her tone softer than before as she brushed her thumbs along his cheekbones. “I want you. Do you want me, too?”
Luke searched her eyes for any hint of doubt. In them, he saw only certainty clouded by a prominent lust and that was enough to make him nod. He knew that he shouldn’t, knew that he should deny wanting her and leave her apartment before he could do something he imagined they’d both regret, but he couldn’t help himself. Before he really thought about it, before he could control himself, he relented to her.
“I do,” he nodded, his voice just as quiet as hers had been. “I want you,” he breathed before he tapped her thigh with the tips of his fingers, “but I don’t want to do this on your couch.”
If things had been different, if the situation wasn’t as intensely emotional as he knew it was, Luke would have laughed at Charlotte’s eagerness to climb off of his lap and reach out for his hand. He would have laughed at the curses that fell from her lips as she bumped her knee on the coffee table or the way she slid against the tile floor as she lead him down the hall to her bedroom. However, the situation didn’t call for that and laughing at Charlotte’s endearing clumsiness was the farthest thing from Luke’s mind as he followed her into her bedroom, decorated in blacks and reds and far more sensual than he had ever imagined it to be.
The lingering doubt they both felt, the pricks of fear and shadows of anxiety, melted away as the pair of them stepped through the doorway. It seemed as if they both left their inhibitions in her living room as Luke’s hands returned to Charlotte’s body the moment she closed her bedroom door.
Luke pulled her forward, flush against him, before he reconnected their lips in a blistering kiss that was a mess of teeth and tongue, of passion and lust. His hands began to wander, drifting across her skin as if she was made of glass, and Charlotte could feel him brush the swell of her ass as she reached up to return her fingers to his hair.
The pair of them stood in the doorway of her bedroom, hands roaming over clothes and lips brushing, for what could have been hours. Despite the underlying anxiety, the electric fear they both felt, neither of them hurried. They both wanted to savor the moment, enjoy the fantasy and indulge themselves, and Charlotte was half-convinced that it was all a dream. She decided that she was bound to wake up at any moment and she wanted to have the most pleasant dream she could because she didn’t know if she’d ever get to experience it again.
Luke decided to let Charlotte make the first move. He wanted whatever happened to be on her terms and when he felt her fingers brush the buttons of his shirt, he whispered, “If you want to take it off, you can. If not, I’ll keep it on. It’s up to you, pretty girl.”
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, her fingers tracing the dark buttons of his shirt and her questioning thoughts returning full force as she stared at his chest. She wanted him, wanted this, more than anything so she elected to ignore anything that didn’t involve undressing Luke and popped the first button.
As Charlotte worked diligently to unbutton the remaining buttons of Luke’s shirt, his hands dipped beneath her t-shirt to splay across her ribcage. The warmth of his palms made her shudder and he smiled against her lips as he carefully brushed her heated skin. His fingertips moved to trace the band of her bra, lightly brushing the patterns of the lace, and she shivered at the feeling of his fingers tickling her skin. The cool metal of his rings bit at her skin, the contrast almost painful, but the moment his hands moved away from her, she found herself desperately searching for his touch once more.
Luke smiled at the quiet whine that escaped her lips and moved his hands to cup her breasts through the fabric of her bra. He squeezed, his touch gentle, and Charlotte arched into him as she gripped the material of his button-down between her fingers.
Emboldened by the feeling of his hands on her breasts, Charlotte decided to encourage him. She pressed herself closer to him, her skin feeling as if it was on fire with every breath she took, and whispered, “They feel better without a bra.”
In a style that Charlotte had come to identify as uniquely Luke, he smiled. His tongue pressed against his teeth, grin bright and amused, as he gently squeezed once more. He stared down at her, his eyes raking over her slightly disheveled form, before he said, “They feel pretty damn good with a bra.”
Charlotte playfully rolled her eyes as she pulled away from Luke and nudged the button down off his shoulders. He glanced at her, seeking permission, and tugged the t-shirt up and over her head following a small nod. The moment her shirt joined his on the floor, his breath caught at the sight of her standing before him.
Luke hadn’t been lying when he said he’d never really seen Charlotte in anything less than a pair of jeans or maybe a nice dress for work. However, as he stared at her, he felt as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
The black lace of her bra proved a stark contrast against her skin. The intricate patterns caught his eye and held it as he worked to memorize the patterns of the pretty piece that he didn’t know if he’d ever see again. “Fuck,” he breathed as he lifted his eyes from her chest to her face, “you’re so beautiful.”
When Charlotte dipped her head to hide her face, her cheeks burning at Luke’s whispered compliment, he reached out and placed two fingers beneath her chin to gently tilt her head up. “I mean it,” he assured her quietly, “you are so beautiful, Charlotte.” Luke hesitated, his voice catching in his throat, as he met her eyes. He had so much more that he wanted to say.
He wanted to sing her praises, to lavish her in compliments and shower her with sweet words. He wanted to tell her that she was the most beautiful he had ever seen and that it wasn’t because of her physical beauty. Yes, she was stunning to look at, but Luke knew her better than that. He knew her well enough to know that the little things, the endearing little quirks that can only be seen after truly getting to know someone, were the ones that made her as beautiful as she was but he couldn’t seem to get the words to leave his lips.
They felt too intimate, too serious, and Luke didn’t know if that was what Charlotte wanted from this encounter. Hell, he didn’t know if that was what he wanted from this encounter.
So, instead of speaking the words that swirled in his mind, Luke whispered, “If you’ll let me, I’d love to show you how beautiful I find you.”
Unable to do more, Charlotte nodded at Luke’s request and returned her hands to his shoulders as he dipped his head to press a searing kiss to the column of her throat. He began walking her backward, his lips never leaving her skin, and only stopped when the back of her legs hit the side of her mattress.
“Could you take off your bra for me, pretty girl?” he asked as he glanced down at her, his eyes dark and clouded with lust. “And do you mind if I take these?”
Charlotte swore that she could feel her heart stop as Luke hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her shorts. When she gave a small nod, her entire body alight with a giddy nervousness that she’d never felt before, Luke tugged the article of clothing down her legs and settled into place in front of her.
Luke nudged her back toward the bed and gestured for her to take a seat on the edge of her bed. Her bra joined the pile of clothes on her floor and she felt certain that Luke could see her arousal as he gently nudged her thighs apart to step between them.
Contrary to what she had experienced with past partners, Luke took his time. He pressed his lips to her jaw, trailed kisses down the column of her throat, brushed his lips across her collarbones, nipped at her chest. He only paused when he reached her breasts to glance up at her from beneath his lashes. With a nod of approval from Charlotte, Luke allowed his fingers to gently pinch and tug at one nipple while his mouth enveloped the other. His tongue swirled around the hardening bud, warm and enough to leave her thoughtless and floating as he worked.
Luke kept his eyes on her face as he gave her breasts the same treatment. He watched the way her eyes fluttered shut, how her lips parted and her cheeks tinted pink. He watched her tongue dart out to wet her bottom lip, watched her nose scrunch when she tried to keep the quiet moan from slipping past her lips, and it made him dizzy with want. He had never imagined himself here, never imagined himself in this situation with her, but to watch her, to see her react from this alone, made him desire nothing more strongly than to see this sight again and again.
Luke quieted the part of his brain that told him he was making a mistake as he pressed kisses to the heated skin of her stomach. He placed featherlight pecks, barely there brushes of his lips, against her skin and stopped just above the waistband of her panties to settle onto his knees before her. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers gentle against her skin, as he breathed, “Lie back, pretty girl,” against her skin. He lifted his eyes to look at her, the beautiful blue shining even in the dim light, and Charlotte swore she wouldn’t make it through the night if he kept looking at her like that.
Luke moved slowly, avoiding the area that she truly wanted him to touch the most, as he nudged her thighs farther apart. He placed kisses along her inner thighs, nipping and sucking at the skin and leaving small red marks in his wake as he moved as close to the apex as he could without actually touching her. Charlotte knew that he was trying to work her into a frenzy, trying to build it up just to break her down, but she realized as he pressed a kiss to her folds through the thin material of her panties that this wasn’t simply intended to tease. This was meant to be foreplay, more than any experience she’d ever had, and she couldn’t help thinking that she wouldn’t be able to handle an entire night of it.
However, the thought of not being able to survive Luke’s foreplay quickly left her mind as he tugged the lace material down her legs and tossed them with the growing pile on the floor. She decided that she’d gladly take an entire night of this, of whatever Luke wanted to give her, as she felt his tongue brush her folds. He was in no hurry, his movements almost lazy as he explored her with his hands on her thighs to keep her spread open for him.
He savored her, spent as much time as he deemed necessary between her thighs, with just his mouth for so long that Charlotte knew it wasn’t intended to make her orgasm. Instead, it was meant to be a starting point, a place for him to begin, and she found herself happy that he began there as he shifted so his shoulder pressed against her thigh to free one of his hands. His fingers brushed her entrance, one carefully slipping into her heat and giving her a moment to adjust before a second joined and he began working her open.
Charlotte didn’t think she’d ever felt anything this clearly. She could feel every drag of Luke’s fingers, could feel every brush of his skin against hers. She could feel his lips wrapped around her clit, his fingers repeatedly tapping at the small spot that had her seeing stars, and she almost felt embarrassed at how quickly the coil of her orgasm built in the pit of her stomach. However, Luke took the tangling of her fingers in his hair in stride and shifted just enough to breathe, “Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me see how beautiful you look when you cum,” before he returned his lips to her heated skin and worked his fingers just a bit faster.
It was as if Luke’s words were magic. Charlotte could feel herself falling over the edge far quicker than she ever had before but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she lost herself in the aftershocks of her orgasm. Luke’s fingers remained gentle against her thighs as he brushed her heated skin and she didn’t know what else to do other than to reach out and intertwine her fingers with his.
Luke remained on his knees for a moment, staring at her and watching her chest rise and fall rapidly as she struggled to regain her breath, before he stood and whispered, “So beautiful like this.” His words were quiet and Charlotte didn’t know if she was supposed to hear them so she said nothing. She simply watched as he leaned over her, one hand pressed to the mattress beside her head, and closed her eyes when he pressed a kiss to her lips.
Charlotte felt warm, her entire body felt like it was floating and her head felt pleasantly muddled as she laid on her bed. She wasn’t sure how much time passed with Luke pressing gentle kisses to her mouth, to her jaw, to her cheeks, but time itself seemed to stand still as she whispered, “Want you,” against his mouth. “Need you, Lu, please.”
Luke observed the blissed out look on her face, the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek and her lips looked so beautiful and kiss-swollen. A smile quirked his lips as he moved his hand to brush stray pieces of hair from her face and took a moment to breathe her in before he pressed a final, gentle kiss to her lips. “You’ve got me, pretty girl,” he promised her as she reached out to tug at his belt. “Can you move up for me?”
She pushed herself up on shaking arms and moved to the head of her bed as she watched Luke shove the black pants she’d found so enticing earlier in the night, what felt like decades ago, down his legs. His underwear, a pair of burgundy briefs that contrasted beautifully with his skin, followed shortly after she Charlotte stared unabashedly as he kicked them off and let them join the pile of clothes decorating her floor. She watched, her eyes wide and lust-blown, as he climbed onto her bed and moved to hover above her. The silver chain around his neck was sandwiched between and she found the metal to be a cool contrast to the warmth of Luke’s chest pressed against hers as he pressed another kiss to her lips.
“Do you have any condoms, pretty girl?”
“Nightstand,” she whispered, still slightly dazed from both her orgasm and the realization that a fantasy she’d held for so long is on its way to becoming a reality.
Luke nodded, reaching out for the foil packet from a box tucked in the very back corner of her nightstand, and glanced away from her to roll the latex onto his cock. He situated himself before he paused, his warm eyes meeting hers, and asked, “Are you sure about this? If you have any doubts, please tell me. We’ll stop, no questions asked, no hard feelings.”
“I’m so sure, Luke,” Charlotte nodded and Luke noted that she looked just as certain as she sounded. She reached out for him, her arms wrapping around his neck, and tangled her fingers in his hair as she leaned up to press another kiss to his lips. “I really do want this. Please.”
Luke nodded at her assurance and placed a hand on her hip as the other gripped the base of his cock. His lips brushed hers, a barely there presence, as he sank into her heat. She could tell that the torturously slow pace that he’d set would continue through the night as he took his time fully settling into her. By the time he was sheathed to the hilt, she was already on edge again. He paused, giving her a moment to adjust, a moment to process that this was reality, before she clenched around him and he couldn’t help himself.
He moved his free hand to her center, his fingers brushing her clit as he fucked into her. His pace was slow, deep, and she could feel every drag of his cock inside of her. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, her lungs constricting in her chest, and it was maddening. She couldn’t control her volume, her moans spilling freely past her lips as any concern for her neighbors dissipated, as Luke’s eyes met hers.
She wanted the moment to last forever. She wanted the moment on a loop in her memory, the feeling of Luke’s body pressed to hers engrained in her mind forever, but her orgasm felt as if it was barreling toward her and there was nothing for her to do but cling to Luke’s shoulders and give herself to him as he snapped his hips just right. He buried himself inside of her and she flew over the edge for the second time, clenching around him so tightly that all Luke could do was give her a moment to ride it out.
He moved to pull out, to finish himself off with his hand, but she gripped his wrist and shook her head. “I’m okay,” she assured him, her breathing ragged and her eyes heavy, “you can keep going.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, like he thought better of it and knew he should let her rest, but she clenched around him and his resolve crumbled into dust beneath his fingers.
Charlotte was so sensitive. Every nerve ending in her body felt as if it was on fire but she wouldn’t have traded the feeling of Luke chasing his orgasm for anything. His breath against her neck, his heated skin pressed against hers, his hand intertwined with her own, it all felt overwhelming in the best possible way. And when he grunted, breathed her name in such a reverent tone that she knew she wasn’t meant to hear, Charlotte couldn’t help the choked moan that spilled past her lips.
Luke was gentle as he pulled out, both of them groaning at the loss. He tied the condom, tossed it into the small trashcan in her bathroom, and settled beneath the covers beside her. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether he should wrap his arms around her, but when she shifted closer to him, he decided that there was no more harm to be done. The worst had already happened so he pulled her tight to his chest, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and tugged the blankets over the pair of them as he felt his eyes growing heavy.
He wanted to talk to her, to ask her how she felt, but her own eyes fluttered shut and Luke took that as a sign that conversation was to be avoided. But while he fell asleep fairly quickly, Charlotte’s mind raced with the thoughts she’d pushed aside the moment Luke laid a hand on her.
She could feel her heart begin to beat wildly in her chest, her anxiety pooling in the pit of her stomach, as she wondered if this encounter meant nearly as much to Luke as it did to her. She wondered, briefly, if this would ever happen again. She wondered if anything more than a few orgasms and a chest full of guilt would come from this.
But as she wondered these things, as she pondered the future that remained wholly uncertain, she thought of Dylan. She thought of her best friend, the one who had given her everything and asked for so little in return. She thought of the girl who had been her rock in her hardest times, the one who stayed up with her and made coffee to keep her awake as she studied for exams. She thought of the girl who kept her sane, who kept her grounded.
She thought of the girl she had just betrayed.
Charlotte’s stomach turned as she thought of Dylan and of how this would make her feel. No matter how Charlotte herself felt, no matter how Luke felt; Charlotte couldn’t shake the pure terror that filled her veins at the thought of Dylan finding out. She had done something unforgivable, something that would ruin the best friendship she had ever had, and she knew that if this happened again, it would only make matters worse.
As Luke slept beside her, his chin resting on her forehead and his arms wrapped tightly around her, Charlotte listened to the steady beat of his heart. She wondered, idly, as he hands raked through his golden curls, if any of this was worth it. She wondered if she would still feel as strongly for him when the morning light entered her bedroom window or if, along with the morning light, her senses would return and they would both realize that they’d made a terrible mistake.
_______________________________________________________________________
Author’s Note: Thoughts? Feelings? Questions? This was fun. I forgot how much I love Morning Fears.
#luke hemmings smut#5sos smut#5 seconds of summer smut#5sos fanfic#5sos preference#5sos fanfiction#5sos au#5sos writing#luke hemmings imagines#luke hemmings blurb#luke hemmings fic#luke hemmings fanfic#luke hemmings x oc#luke hemmings angst#5 seconds of summer imagines#5 seconds of summer imagine#5 seconds of summer blurbs#5 seconds of summer preferences#5 seconds of summer fanfiction#morning fears story#mine
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Here's a random question for you: I know you're a big (the biggest) proponent of Scanny, but if you had to pick someone else for Danny to have a relationship with, who would it be?
I actually have thought about this! Honestly, my go to after Scott for Danny is Mason, because the younger characters are literally only two years younger than the original characters even if it seemed otherwise a lot of the time. And so given that we never saw Danny and Mason interact due to the whole ‘oh sure, he totally graduated offscreen a year early just in time to not be around for the season that revolved entirely around his specific expertise aka hacking’ nonsense....I can easily imagine a few years in the future, Danny and Mason meet in college or grad school or somewhere they’re on even footing and learn they have mutual friends/experiences/knowledge in common and from there grow into a friendship and also maybe then they’re boyfriends and then husbands and then dads and then grandpas and happily ever after yada yada.
Meanwhile, if Danny encountered Liam at any age, I feel like he would just be like: “No.” And then wave his hand around in Liam’s direction in a circle like to encompass all of him, as he’s all. “All of this is just exhausting, whatever it is. I am too old and too tired to deal with this....vibe you’re emitting.”
LOL I can’t explain it, like Liam and Mason have entirely different energies and I feel that age isn’t even a factor as to why Danny would just not at all have patience for Liam. Like, I don’t think he’d DISLIKE him exactly, so much as just....’I’m going to be over here, and you’re going to stay over there, and I just think that’ll be best for everyone and we’ll all get along great that way.”
Hmm, who else. Controversial I guess, but I actually did kinda like Dethan, waaaay back at the very beginning of it, before that very same season crapped all over any real potential it or even the twins at all had in the show. Given that I’m fine with them and even like them in AUs or fics that diverge before they had anything to do with Boyd’s death, but if that’s at all in canon for a story, I have no interest in them as anything other than cannon fodder. Which let’s be real, you always kinda have a need for in TW stories.
But initially, I REALLY REALLY liked the fact that there was this (at the time) mysterious new character that was there for DANNY, like, deliberately seeking him out because of real or suspected significance....I was all for that, because I was like yes, excellent, clearly this means they have plans to focus more on Danny and bring him into the core group eventually and also obviously Danny’s gonna turn this guy away from the Dark Side and make him betray his pack of overcompensating losers for Danny and the power of LOVE because who doesn’t love that trope, am I right? Its all so clearly laid out!
Ahhh, to be that dumb again.
Anyway, so in AUs or early canon-divergent fics, I can be all for Danny and a better, more fleshed out and non-jackass depiction of Ethan. But by the time Ethan returns in actual canon, the fact that he’s with Jackson just irritates me in a ‘hooking up with your ex’s best friend is a jerk move and we get it, show, you don’t consider Danny important and never did, jfc’ kinda way. Beyond that though, I’m just like, Jackson can have him at that point, they deserve each other, go Team Jerkwad.
I don’t see Theo and Danny ever happening because I like to think that Danny’s view on scheming, ambitious and boundary-breaking friends with possible homicidal inclinations has changed since Jackson and Ethan’s presences in his life, and he’s like.....”Nah, I’m not doing that again. Two of that type are enough for me, and I’m kinda always gonna put up with Jackson at this point because...look, I had my reasons probably, just because I can’t remember the basis of our friendship now, like....just back off, okay?”
Just saying, I don’t think he’d inherently hate Theo if Theo’s story happens in an AU kinda way where he doesn’t murder and betray his way through the show’s social hierarchy, lol, but Danny would still just be like “Look, whatever your issues are dude, I’m not trying to judge you for them if you don’t make me, but like, go put in some you-time offstage and then maybe we can talk. I am not emotionally equipped to put up with the schemes of yet another person whose whole thing seems to be ‘am I good or bad, you decide, because I sure as hell can’t.’ I don’t care how big your biceps are, that is not going to be a deciding factor for me, not this time, no sir, I have learned from my mistakes, I have had hashtag Growth, and you need to go now, and also please put on a shirt. I SAID GOOD DAY, SIR!”
Danny and Stiles is Lol That’s A No For Me, of course, Danny and Boyd I would be totally down for and can picture them being like, a snark queen power couple who hang back and watch all the drama unfold around them while providing entertaining commentary back and forth to each other but otherwise act like they’re not even there, and when someone annoyed by their running commentary finally snaps and goes “Why are you two even here?” like, I can so picture Danny and Boyd just blinking slowly and looking at them, then at each other, then back at them as if confused by the question.
“It’s Date Night,” Danny says slowly, in the tone reserved for being asked to solve the equation on the board that’s already got the answer written out right there.
“Okay, fine. But why are you HERE, then? If its your Date Night, like.....go have your date then. Catch a movie. Its all good, we don’t need you guys here at the moment.”
Boyd squints at them. “This IS our date. Whoppers?”
The latter is directed to Danny, as Boyd extends the box of candy towards him.
“Yes please,” Danny says, reaching for a handful.
Exasperated sighs are heard all around the room.
LOL anyway....who else....Jackson tends to be a no for me too, not for any real reason beyond like....I’ve read too many fics where they’re essentially treated as the Mirror Universe version of S/ciles, and you KNOW how I feel about that ship, so like, all even dubiously associated ships are by mere proxy also noped by me. *Shrugs*
Which mostly just leaves Isaac, and....idk, tbh. I’m not inherently opposed to them, and I’ve actually even read a couple of fairly long-ish and pretty enjoyable Danny/Isaac fics. But enjoyable in the sense of like....just as their own thing, a fun romance set in the TW setting/universe, between Danny and an Isaac-shaped woobiewolf. As the few Danny/Isaac fics I’ve found over the years tend to suffer from the exact same thing that’s always kept me from really ever getting into Scott and Isaac as a couple in anything other than theory...
Like, in the fics I’ve tried, I always tend to run into the same tendency to just....sand down all of Isaac’s rough edges and make him this shy, insecure, soft boy who is withdrawn until Danny or Scott bring him out of his shell....even when its based on the events of the show and Isaac’s already been turned into his leather jacket-wearing, snark-wielding, deliberately apathetic werewolfsona.
And that’s just...not Isaac to me? So if I treat him as an original character basically, I can enjoy those stories, and do, just because there’s sooooo little Danny-centric fic that awhile back, I absolutely spent a good year or so making sure like, I found every last scrap of it, lol. I went spelunking in some deep, dark places in search of even a little spotlight time for Danny, because He Deserved Better and I was willing to put up with a lot to see him get even a little (except for like, blatant and unavoidable Scott hate being front and center in the fic as well. Then I exited with rapidity. I love Danny, but not even for him can I stomach that).
But yeah, otherwise, I very very rarely found a lot of Isaac fics, no matter who he was paired with, where he wasn’t like....constantly soft and vulnerable and the focus of Scott or Danny or whomever else’s regular attempts to comfort and protect him. Which I mean, I love Isaac, and I’m always projecting onto abuse survivors in fiction even if just a little bit, so its not that I object to the comfort and desire to protect him parts, just the sheer unevenness that tends to be present in his dynamics as well. I’ve always said that for me, the true theme of TW was survivor empowerment, that all of these kids had been hurt and exploited and traumatized in various ways and they all struggled individually and together to find ways to cope and to heal, and also to feel empowered enough to protect THEMSELVES from whatever or whomever tried to hurt them again in the future.
And that’s the element that so often is missing from Isaac’s arc in fics, IMO...any hint of the character who he spent a lot of time and effort growing into on the show. Evolving first into a character who reveled in the power he’d been given and that made him feel safe and strong for the first time in his life, to the point where he was quite frankly an asshole a lot of the time.
But then from there he grew into a character who came to terms with the reality that as his own power grew, so did the power of the new tormentors he was now often in conflict with, due to the source of his newfound strength...and his strength and brutality and apathy were not at all the tools able to help him find true protection and recovery in his new world. They just weren’t going to get the job done, and that’s when he started to let Scott’s example sink in and take his lead from that, finding the power and strength in committing himself more to others, becoming more of an active participant rather than just a spectator or a henchman who needed orders before acting.....allowing himself to be vulnerable in exchange for the benefits being more open to others afforded him.
Isaac’s growth onscreen from season to season was the very thing that made him so interesting and enjoyable to me....as well as how his bond with Scott did the same thing....so when the former isn’t really present in fics, even the presence of the latter doesn’t really do a whole lot for me. And its the same thing in the Danny/Isaac fics I read, so yeah. There for it in theory, but the execution I’ve found has never done anything to make it any more compelling a ship possibility than any other random ship.
I think that’s pretty much everyone though? Well I mean like, there’s Corey, but I don’t have strong feelings about that possibility one way or another. And there’s Derek, given the whole ‘Miguel’ thing in S1, but you know me, even in future/aged-up settings, I still tend to be ‘what if Derek dated people his own damn age tho, like just for the sheer novelty, let’s explore that some more’.....not to mention that as the show progressed, the more fandom hated on Braeden and her relationship with Derek, the more I spite-shipped them. To the extent that now I find it hard to picture even AUs where they’re not endgame, or if Derek HAS to be in another ship for some reason, then they still were a super serious relationship before the fic and there’s always that hint of her being the one that got away, kinda.
*Shrugs* What can I say? The enemy ship of my enemy is my OTP. The Art of War, fandom style. I have no problem admitting it, lolol.
But yeah, that’s all of them I think now.
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keeping all the promises (we made years ago) - a romanogers fic
Peter’s mixing a bad gin and tonic when Natasha and Steve finally come into the back. Her tiny frame guides him through the throngs of people as a The 1975 song plays in the background, crooning about skinny jeans and spare time and she’s got a boyfriend anyway. They disappear down the basement steps and Natasha must be a little drunk, he reckons, because the door is barely shut when they start kissing. And this—this, he realises, is the only narrative of the two of them that matters. (rock band au. chaos, man.)
/one
It’s Uncle Tony that gets him the job. Well—perhaps gets isn’t quite the right word, because get implies a bit of shuffling behind the scenes and handshakes when in reality Uncle Tony can get whatever he wants whenever he wants. He’s not even his biological uncle. Sometimes, Peter wonders if Uncle Tony just fancied having a nephew and saw him in kindergarten and thought, hey, he’s the one. May’s never told him how Tony ended up being his sort-of guardian, usually financially but sometimes otherwise. He’s just…always been there.
The always been there feels a little more literal now, ever since Peter mentioned that he might not want to go to college after all. Yeah, sure, the Princeton physical sciences program is like, the best in the country, but is that really all there is? He likes music and evening walks and the shitty little apartment he shares with May in the city. He likes the familiarity and the way it covers him like a safety blanket.
It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that Uncle Tony was pretty fucking pissed at the idea. Of, you know, not making the most of the thousands of dollars he’s invested in Peter’s education and not going to an Ivy. Nevertheless, there’s not much he can do about it. Even Tony Stark can’t force him to go to college, even if he looks at him with that disapproving glare every single goddamn day for the rest of his life.
(Uncle Tony’s disapproving glare is one of the scariest things Peter has ever seen, period. And Ned once made him watch all The Exorcist films in one sitting back in freshman year. Took him a good few weeks (months) to shake the paranoia and realise that, realistically, he probably wasn’t going to get possessed by some angry old spirit anytime soon.)
But Uncle Tony can ask him what he’s doing instead of going to college, and Peter quickly discovers that a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders is not an adequate response. He thought that maybe Tony would get him some sort of starter position in his company, but Tony isn’t the kind of guy who gives out jobs to anyone (even if they’re his sort-of nephew). No, if Peter ever wants a job at Stark Industries he needs a college degree first, and a good one at that.
“You need a taste of the real world, kid,” Tony had said, Peter idly spinning on the office chair in front of his desk. “And then you might think twice about giving Princeton the boot.”
And that’s how he ends up in front of Endgame.
-
Peter knows a hell of a lot about Uncle Tony, but also absolutely nothing at all. There are things he deliberately keeps hidden and Peter knows better than to ask about but he’s also ridiculously open, especially about how fucking rich and clever and sexy he is. May says it’s a confidence thing—that he must be hollow under all that blithe arrogance, but Peter has never met anyone more solid. He thinks. Tony cannot be anything other than whole, because he’s sure helped keep Peter’s foundations stable all these years.
He knows that Tony’s business is his life. That he’s a bit more…forward, with women than he should be, but it’s all talk because Pepper wouldn’t stick around if it wasn’t. He knows he prefers Turkish food over everything else and that he cares more than he lets on, always.
But he absolutely didn’t know that Uncle Tony kind-of owns a nightclub in the city; the super cool kind that has live bands and plays British indie rock and a menu with over fifty different kinds of cocktail on it. It makes so much sense, when he thinks about it. It’s exactly the kind of place he imagines Tony heading to after a day working non-stop at the tower.
It’s only three in the afternoon but the place is unlocked, Tony pushing open the double doors at the front with his shoulder. Inside, there’s a jarringly bright room with a bar and a stage that feels wrong not swathed in darkness or the muted glow from overhead lighting. A woman with long, brunette hair that falls down her back is mopping the floor off to the side. She looks up when she sees them enter.
“Wanda,” Tony greets, pushing Peter forward. The girl smiles bemusedly, shoving the mop back in a red plastic bucket. “Working hard?”
“As always, Mr Stark.” Her accent is soft, European. Peter likes the twinkle in her eyes. “You’ve just missed Nat, but Clint is still in the basement, if you’re looking for them.”
“Barton. Perfect.” He tugs on Peter’s arm, and Peter vaguely feels like some naughty kid being dragged around by their dad. This must be what that feels like, he muses, not that he knows much about the whole parent thing. “Come on, Peter.”
Peter rolls his eyes. Wanda catches him, and she laughs a little, returning back to the mop.
Tony drags him through a hallway lined with black-and-white checked squares and down a set of stairs labelled staff only, the walls covered in aggressive-looking graffiti which he assumes are song lyrics he’s never heard of. He likes music, but he’s the soft-spoken acoustic type. Not the mosh-pit type.
(Alongside Tony Stark’s disapproving glare and horror movies, he’s also kind of terrified of being swallowed by crowds. He doesn’t like the feeling of being lost or untethered. He likes being anchored to something. Someone. It’s kind of ironic, really, considering.)
Tony opens a door at the bottom of the stairs that leads onto what he assumes is some sort of staff common room, the walls all exposed brick and lined with tattered leather sofas probably pulled from a garage sale. Band posters either hang loosely with blue thumb tacks or, in some cases, in black frames—some scribbled with messy signatures. A makeshift bar stands in front of a small kitchen, lined with more liquor bottles than he cares to count. A coffee table is littered with vinyl cases and sloppily written notes, a wire charging an iPhone trailing all the way from the door. A man with brown hair and a strong jawline sits on the sofa nearest the back wall, Doc Martens kicked up on the table, scrolling through his phone. His eyes barely flicker when they enter the room, like he’s waiting for Tony to talk first.
“Welcoming as always,” Tony remarks, urging Peter to walk further into the room. The other man snorts.
“If you want a fucking parade every time you enter a room, Stark, you should stick to those dumb expo things you still insist on doing.” He’s still scrolling through his phone. “Who’s the kid?”
“I’m not a kid,” Peter can’t help but say, because he’s eighteen and a high school graduate, for God’s sake. Both Tony and the man raise an eyebrow, in that patronising way Peter is all too used to. Like, you’re basically just fresh out the womb, boy.
“You’re a kid until you stop thinking like one,” Tony says, and it looks like Peter is still going to be getting a lot of that. He gestures towards the man and back again. “Clint Barton, Peter Parker. Peter, Barton. He’s your new boss.”
“Half-boss,” Clint quickly corrects, “Nat would probably slit your throat if she heard you say that. Also…” Clint pauses, finally putting his phone down. He seems to examine Peter carefully, eyes flicking up and down. He feels oddly exposed. “Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be doing AP Literature homework or something?”
Peter sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m not in high school. I graduated high school.”
“I refuse to believe that. How old are you? Fourteen?”
“I’m eighteen!”
Clint narrows his eyes. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I know my own age.”
Clint hums. He shifts his feet from the coffee table and to the floor, leaning forwards. “Don’t get me wrong, Peter, but are you sure you want to work here? Aren’t you better suited to…like, a computer science major? You just don’t look like the kind of guy we’d usually hire.”
Peter takes that to mean you look like a massive fucking nerd, moron. Well, Clint’s not wrong, but it’s always a bit jarring to hear someone say it actually out loud. He’s not the kind of person who works in a cool bar with cool people who wear Doc Martens and listen to the Arctic Monkeys.
“He’s hired because I say he’s hired,” Tony interjects, pressing his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “And because this little punk thinks that he doesn’t want to go get a STEM major.”
Clint smirks a little at that, like he’s gone from zero to just a touch of respect for him. “Teenage rebellion, huh?”
“No,” Peter replies, not that convincingly. “I just don’t want to go to college, alright?”
“Not right now, but a few weeks of working with these absolute head-cases will have you handing in your transcripts before you can say Ivy League,” Tony states and Clint chuckles, “You will be begging for the sweet release of the Princeton marching band and that compulsory calculus class.”
Peter looks over at Clint, who merely nods in a faux serious manner. “We’re special here, Parker. Absolutely one-of-a-kind.”
“Who’s one of a kind?” Another voice rings out behind them, clearly feminine but surprisingly low and sultry in tone. When Peter turns, he sees a petite woman with red hair that scuffs her shoulders, skinny jeans hugging her legs and a leather jacket over her shoulders. She clutches a shopping bag in her left hand, her nails painted the same shade as her hair. Her Converse sneakers are black and streaked with dirt, but like they were made that way, like it’s all staged.
He has to actively fight his jaw from dropping open. Because, Jesus—he isn’t blind. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen…and there’s something about her, a familiar quality he can’t quite place, like he’s seen her before in another time or place. She smirks when she finds him staring. Peter flushes, looking away, and thinks idly about beautiful gardens and being tempted in by a Devil.
“You are,” Clint replies effortlessly and, like that, Peter realises that there must have fucked at some point. Her eyes glint as she drops her bag on the counter.
“I assume you’re here for a reason, Stark,” she says, “If this is your new intern, I’m dying for a coffee.”
“Funny,” Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “And as I was just telling Barton, this is your new employee.”
“As of when?”
“As of right now.”
When this woman assesses him, it feels more scathing than it did with Clint. Her eyes are slower, her expression less readable. Clint was clear in his uncertainty. It’s impossible to tell with her. Eventually, she halts, lips pursed. “Huh.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Clint responds. He’s back on the coffee table, like he’s bored by the whole situation.
Tony stands back, folding his arms. “You have an opening now the other Maximoff has moved on, and this moron needs a reality check. You lot are probably the worst people I could think of to give it to him.”
The redhead blinks slowly. She rests her chin in one hand, her elbow on the bar. She’s looking straight at Peter, green eyes blazing like exotic jewels. “You have any bar experience?”
“Uh…” Peter scratches his head sheepishly, “No?”
“You train him, Nat,” Tony says when Nat looks skeptical, “You train the hell out of him. Or get him to do the 4am bathroom cleaning shift. Your choice.”
“We have Clint for that,” she says, and Clint throws a scatter cushion at her. She catches it with ridiculously quick reflexes and dumps it on a bar stool before hopping onto it. Her shopping bag is exclusively filled with grapefruits. “Although, we do need a new bartender now Pietro has fucked off.” She pulls a knife from seemingly nowhere and points it in Peter’s direction, which gives off a threatening air that Nat looks all too comfortable with. Worryingly. “But no doing homework at the bar. It’ll ruin our image.”
“I’m not…” Peter starts, but Nat’s smirking again. So. He’s just going to have to accept the fact this is going to be a running joke, right? Anything that gets Tony off his back.
“You’re kind of adorable,” Nat says, looking over at Clint. “Steve will love him.”
“Steve will try and adopt him.”
“Steve will try and adopt anything that looks vaguely pained and puppy-like,” She chops a grapefruit in half, then into quarters. “It’s taking everything I have to convince him we don’t need a golden retriever right now. It’s exhausting.”
(At this point, he stands gormlessly and watches both Clint and Nat bicker back and forwards about this Steve, this guy that Nat must be dating, and nothing clicks. Nothing clicks yet. He feels like a bit of an idiot when he eventually does, though, because of course. That’s why Nat looks so familiar.)
“Well,” Tony interrupts in a tiny pocket of silence where Clint and Nat aren’t snarking at each other, “Consider Peter your anniversary gift. He’s every bit as charming as a golden retriever without having to pick up the shit. I think he’s already potty-trained. I think.”
Peter shakes his head out of disbelief. Not biological, but every single bit as embarrassing as a blood relative in front of anyone cool. Nat doesn’t take her eyes off the grapefruits.
“Our anniversary was last month, asshole, and all you gave us was a fucking star named after us. You know, one of those dumb certificates you buy online for about ten dollars.”
Tony clutches his heart dramatically. “It’s romantic, not that I’d expect you to understand. Imagine looking up at the night sky and knowing a little piece of you and Steve is up there, glimmering just for you, courtesy of me. That’s special, Nat. Money can’t buy that feeling.”
“Money can buy that feeling. You bought it for ten dollars. Fortunately for you, Steve is a gullible and the sappiest son-of-a-bitch we know so at least someone enjoyed the sentiment.” Natasha pauses for a moment, resting the knife down on the counter. “Now. You—Peter—how much, exactly, do you know about cocktails?”
-
There are things he learns incredibly quickly when working with Nat—facts, logistics, statements. Both Clint and Nat have known Uncle Tony for a while, but he’s not sure why or how. Tony helped Clint and Nat buy Endgame and he continues to invest in the business, taking a share of the profits. It’s been open five years, but Clint and Nat have known each other way longer than that. He’s not sure why or how. Actually; he’s sure why, because Clint and Nat are pieces of the same puzzle, irrevocably interlocked. The way they look at each other is haunted by years and years of shared history. You’d have to be blind not to see that.
Also—Nat mixes drinks with a speed and precision that is impossible to replicate. He watches hopelessly as she grabs spirits off a rack on the wall from memory, barely glancing at the labels. Wanda occasionally brushes past and Peter can see the amused look in her eyes, like she’s in on a joke he doesn’t know about.
She’s trying to teach him how to mix a basic mojito—not their most popular drink, but one of the easiest—when the front doors swing open and a man walks in, tall and broad-shouldered, blonde hair mussed from the motorcycle helmet that hangs in his right hand. His shirt is way too tight for his torso and arms but he looks so good anyway, in a way that Peter could only ever replicate in his dreams.
It takes Peter a moment to realise, when the man smiles at Natasha like she’s every good dream he’s ever had, that this must be Steve. And then it takes another moment once he gets a decent look at his face, that this isn’t just any Steve. This is Steve fucking Rogers. And Nat… Nat is Natasha Romanoff.
“You certainly took your time,” Nat says coyly as Steve sidles over to the bar. He reaches over and takes her face in his hands, kissing her gently and casually on the lips. It’s like Peter isn’t even here. It’s nothing too intimate, though; Nat seems aware of her privacy and what she wants other people to see. She seems to have a strict code on showing and telling. Peter isn’t part of her exclusive inner sanctum (yet).
(Clint struts in, then promptly struts out again, muttering something about letting someone else be the third wheel for a change.)
“Meeting overran,” he confesses, still curved over the bar, “Honestly, I keep telling them I’m retired.”
“Show them your birth certificate. Can’t possibly expect a man in his nineties to record another album.”
Steve laughs, and honestly, it’s like watching a scene out of a romantic movie. “For some reason, they just won’t believe me. They might believe you, though. You have a way of getting people to do what you want.”
Natasha pats his cheek gently. “Absolutely. Oh—and this is Peter, by the way. Anniversary gift from Stark.”
Steve’s eyes settle on him for the first time since he arrived, because it’s very clear that he’s the kind of guy who tunes out the rest of the world when his girlfriend is in the room. “I thought Stark got us a star for our anniversary. I love that star.”
“Of course you do,” Nat titters, “And Peter is filling in for Pietro.”
Steve offers Peter his hand, and he shakes it tentatively, because this is still Steve fucking Rogers. “Great to meet you, kid.”
“Oh,” Nat lowers her voice, “He’s not a kid. He just graduated high school.” When Peter’s mouth opens, she grins. “This is Steve. He hangs about here sometimes. Can’t seem to get rid of him. I have tried, believe me.”
“You’re Steve Rogers,” Peter breathes, dumbstruck, and it’s only when Nat and Steve share a bemused look that he breaks out of his stupor, cheeks flushed. He nervously looks at his feet. “Sorry—it’s just I’m a big fan.”
There isn’t anybody who hasn’t heard of Steve Rogers, as far as Peter is aware. He’s got all his albums on CD stacked on the shelves of his bedroom and he listens when he’s feeling particularly nostalgic, pressing them into the portable player May got him a lifetime ago and lying back on his bed. Steve is the Golden Boy of America’s pop music scene, his songs soulful and sad with a quiet, yet constant, lingering optimism. It’s the kind of music that reminds him of leaves in the fall and sitting alone on the subway. The kind of voice you could get lost in, but not in the unknown, terrifying kind of the way. It’s like he’s trying to guide you home.
Steve and Nat share a look and Peter fears that he’s made a bit of an idiot of himself. Again.
“Whatever you do, don’t ask for his autograph,” Natasha scrunches her nose, glancing up at her boyfriend. Steve looks mildly entertained. Like he’s used to it. “His ego is big enough as it is.”
Steve shakes his head. His hand reaches across the bar and squeezes Natasha’s shoulder. She softly runs her hand over his knuckles—it feels weird, to use the word soft to describe Natasha, because from what Peter has seen (in his admittedly limited experience) she’s never anything but razor sharp. “You’ll come to realise, Peter, that this woman never has a day off.”
Natasha’s smile is wistful, longing. “I don’t have time for days off.”
The room suddenly feels heavy and Peter can feel something lurking under the surface of their dialogue, something that’s not being said while he’s there watching. Steve looks away, smiling at the ground. Look—he’s not that into tabloids or dumb E! News twitter threads where their pictures are plastered about like incriminating photo albums, but he’s not totally unaware of it either. He knows Nat’s surname because he’s seen her red hair on the cover of magazines at the drugstore countless times, on May’s coffee table. Some of them have been holding Steve’s hand. Some of them are just Steve. Some of them are Steve with other women.
He’s got enough knowledge to know that this relationship mustn’t be…easy. Or conventional, at the very least. Not that he knows much about that. He knows about as much about romantic love as he does parental.
(Aka, not much at all.)
Wanda is the one who breaks the moment. “Nat, Clint is asking—oh, hi Steve!”
Steve smiles and the two share a quick embrace, because Steve definitely seems like the hugging type. Meanwhile, Natasha walks round the bar and beside him—Steve slings an arm casually round her shoulder, and it’s so comfortable and natural that Peter feels something shift in his chest. Wanda lets them know that Clint needs to run over the inventory before opening in a couple of hours, so Nat leaves Peter in Wanda’s capable hands while her and Steve head down to the basement together. Peter can’t seem to drag his eyes away from them.
“You too, huh?” Wanda remarks, one eyebrow raised. Peter blinks, not sure what she means. “They’re magnetic, right? And not just because they’re both ridiculously attractive.”
Peter flushes—for what seems like the millionth time since he arrived—and covers his hands with his sleeve. “I don’t—“
“We’ve all thought it, one time or another. There isn’t anybody else like them.” Wanda smiles softly. “They haven’t had it easy but they’re happy now, so. Every cloud, yes?”
Peter nods hesitantly. “What do you mean…haven’t had it easy?”
Wanda’s smile is still gentle, but there’s an unwavering nature to it. She seems to float past him, like she’s not quite real, an ethereal ghost. “That’s not for me to tell. But I can tell you how to make more than just a mojito, if that’s adequate?”
Peter feels himself relaxing, the tension vanishing from his shoulders. Wanda is a little less terrifying than Natasha. Her eyes are big and touched with melancholy, but there’s no bitterness there. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be really adequate, thanks.”
-
His first shift—well, his first shift is insane, and he completely and totally understands why Tony thought this place would cure his college related existential crisis. The bar is packed from the moment the door opens because even though there’s no live music tonight, Clint and Nat’s sick playlists seem to reel in people from all over the city and further out. A bearded guy in a Led Zep shirt drunkenly tells Peter that he’s come all the way from Toronto to listen to Hawkeye and Black Widow, and he’s really not sure what that means.
There are also people who are here when they realise Steve is about, from Twitter or whatever. He’s not exactly under the radar as he seems to spend a lot of his free time in Endgame (for obvious reasons) but as soon as the customers start coming in, he edges away, disappearing off into the basement while Nat, Clint and the rest of them work. Other than Wanda, there’s only one more employee who turns up—a tall, buff British guy called Thor who wanders in about fifteen minutes before opening time with hair off a Herbal Essences commercial. He slaps Peter on the arm and almost knocks the wind out of him.
By the time closing time hits Peter feels battered, bruised and a little like he’s fallen out of a top floor window, his shirt covered in shit tons of unnameable alcoholic combinations and his head beating like a bass drum. Clint, Nat, Wanda and Thor weave between people and the bar like it’s ingrained in them, grinning and laughing and seemingly knowing everybody. As the cool, 2am air of August hits his face like a slap round the face, Peter wonders if he’d actually been holding his breath the whole time, waiting for the storm to be over.
He almost throws up on the stairs. Almost. He kind of wants to go home, go to bed, and never come back here again. Everything—it just happens a lot, always. Maybe he is just a kid. Maybe he’s not ready for a life outside of education, like Tony had said.
He feels a hand curl round his shoulder and he starts, but when he turns he sees Steve, oddly reassuring and stable in this new world that makes no sense whatsoever.
“You alright, Peter?” he asks, warm and empathetic, “Maybe you should sit down.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, instead sitting on the damp, stone steps that lead up to the entrance. Peter sighs heavily, goosebumps bristling up and down his arms. Cautiously, he eases down next to him. Wonders how his life got to this.
“It can get pretty intense in there, huh?” Steve nudges him with his shoulder. “I thought that when I first started singing in public, like my heart was just going to rip out my chest. But it gets easier. Maybe you’ll even enjoy it.”
Peter laughs a little at that. There’s a scab on his left thumb and he picks at it out of habit. “I think Clint was right. I’m not the kind of guy they like here.”
“God, don’t let him hear you say that. Clint can’t ever be right. The universe would implode.”
Natasha appears at the front door from nowhere, as is the pattern, and it’s the first time Peter’s seen her all evening properly—she’s wearing a black lace camisole and leather pants that leave very little to the imagination, but Peter knows better (and is better) to let his eyes hover for too long. Her lipstick matches the color of her hair. She’s absolutely breath-taking, like a rebellious Hollywood starlet. It’s the first time he’s seen her tattoos, too; she has a spider on her left shoulder, an arrow on the other and there’s the smooth curve of a circle that peaks out of the waistband of her trousers. She hands Peter a paper cup filled with water. Come to think of it, not drinking anything all night was probably a bad idea, adding dehydration to a general sense of, you know, existential dread.
“It’s just your first day, buddy,” Steve says, “It’s new. That’s all.”
“I think you did pretty well for someone with no experience,” interjects Nat. Steve gives her an exaggerated look of shock. “Hey. I said pretty well. He’s still got a lot to learn.”
“Praise indeed! You should be proud, kid. Took her over a year for her to say anything remotely nice about me.”
“That, and also I’d take every opportunity to prove Tony Stark wrong about something.” Nat smirks. “You just got to get into the music, then you won’t be able to fucking wait to come back.”
“Yeah,” Steve smiles, looking up at her, “She’s pretty exceptional at making mixtapes.”
He’s entering yet another moment that feels like an intrusion just being there, another conversation without words. He’s been the third-wheel before—countless awkward dates at the Cheesecake Factory—but this feels like a whole other level of it, because the worst kind of couple to tag along with are the ones that use silence like it’s not silence at all.
“Am I…alright to go?” Peter asks quietly, folding the cup in his hands. He’s not sure how all this works.
Nat nods. “Yeah, seeing as it’s your first day. But tomorrow you’re helping with the clean-up.”
“How are you getting back?” Steve is already sifting through dollars in his wallet, “Get a cab on me.”
“Oh—Mr Rogers, I couldn’t possibly…”
“It’s Steve, and you absolutely can.” He hands him twenty, and Nat audibly sighs from behind him. “What? What is it?”
Natasha looks totally unsurprised. “Clint was right about something. You’re totally adopting our new bartender. He’s only been here a day!”
Peter has to admit, having Steve Rogers look out for him is hardly the most disastrous thing to come out of this shift. He half-smiles, mostly to himself, unfurling the twenty between his fingers. Steve just shoots Nat a withering, long-suffering look, because this is what Steve calls being nice.
“Thank you, Steve,” Peter says, standing up, “And thanks for the water.”
Steve salutes a goodbye and Nat walks down the stairs, filling the space Peter leaves. As he saunters down the sidewalk, he picks up snippets of their conversation:
“Which star do you think is ours? You know. The one Stark bought us.”
“Oh, shut up about that goddamn star. Stark will really try and buy anything, won’t he? Even bits of the universe. You’re supposed to—I think you should just leave the cosmos the hell alone. We don’t have to understand everything.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” A pause. “The science is neither here nor there for me. And Stark’s capitalist consumerist ideology aside…I just like to think the stars all come out for you.”
(He thinks about that all the way home, in the slow hum of the cab, the buzzing tinnitus in his ears. He thinks about loving someone so much you want the whole universe to exist just for them.)
-
The first thing he does when he gets home is Google them. He can’t help himself. He just—he has to know more. But as soon as he types in their names, and a ton of unsavoury articles mentioning other women and possibilities about Natasha’s past come up, he feels disgusted with himself. This isn’t the truth. This is just hearsay and shady sources and the edges of facts cobbled together with hyperbolic adjectives and PVA glue. This feels voyeuristic and weird, like he’s doing something explicitly wrong, like he’s listening to high school gossip.
He turns to Instagram instead. Natasha’s—predictably—is on private and he’s too awkward to send a request, and the blur of red on the icon might not even be her. Steve’s is a lot easier to find. He’s got almost three million followers and a blue tick, his photo an outtake from some shoot where he’s laughing like a maniac. His most recent picture isn’t even of him. It’s Natasha, caught off guard in the basement of Endgame, looking through the stack of records he’d seen on the coffee table. When he swipes along there’s another where she’s using a Bon Iver vinyl to cover her face, looking beneath her eyelashes at the camera. The caption reads though she be but little, she is fierce.
And this—this, he realises, is the only narrative of the two of them that matters.
-
The next day he wakes with a thumping headache. When he asks May if there’s any aspirin, she looks at him with a mix of disappointment and muted shock.
“Yes, I agreed with Tony when he said getting a job would be good for you, but really Peter?” she tuts, to Peter’s confusion, popping two tablets out of the tray and into his hands. “What was it, then? Beer? Rum? Vodka?”
Oh. Oh. She thinks… “Relax, May. I didn’t do anything. The music was just loud, that’s all.”
May doesn’t look entirely convinced, her eyes slightly narrowed, but it admittedly isn’t in Peter’s character to engage with any underage drinking (even though that’s what he’d probably do in college, if he was still going). Clint had slid him across a jack and coke with a wink at some point after midnight, but he’d let it go warm on the counter. The only time he’d ever really drunk was at Liz Allan’s New Year’s party at the end of junior year, and that was only to prove to that dumbass Flash Thompson that he wasn’t a pussy. His puke tasted like beer and then that just made him puke more.
“I just worry about you. I’ve never pictured you working in a place like that.” May sits at the kitchen counter, watching him as he swallows back the pills. “Couldn’t you send your resume to a bookstore or something? Bryony from Pilates says she’s looking for a new waiter at her place. Maybe that’s more your… thing.”
It’s quite likely that’s more his thing, but the told you so that would come out of Tony’s mouth is persuasion enough to keep on at it. Yeah, he feels like death and another night like yesterday is not going to make that any better, but surely he’ll get used to it. Right?
“I’m not quitting already. It wasn’t so bad. Plus, I got to meet Steve Rogers.”
May’s eyes almost bulge out of her head. “Excuse me? Steve Rogers as in…?”
“Yep,” Peter pops the ‘p’, grin tugging at his lips. His aunt isn’t exempt in the nationwide crush everybody has on Steve Rogers. “The manager—well, one of the managers—is his girlfriend. You know Nat Romanoff?”
“Oh, so she’s Nat Romanoff to you,” May chides, “Didn’t realise you two had got so close already.”
“Shut up. She’s kind of terrifying. So is the other guy who runs the place. But there’s a girl there—Wanda. She’s pretty awesome.”
May purses her lips, studying his expression. “Is she pretty pretty too?”
“No!” Peter replies a little too quickly, to May’s delight, “No—she’s… nice, but she’s a bit older than me. Anyway, I’ve told you before. I’m not looking for anything like that.”
(It’s been almost a year since Liz Allan tore his heart to pieces and he’s still not over it. It’s kind of pathetic, really. They were never really dating to begin with, but it all felt so real anyway.)
“Alright,” May hums, “Just…be careful, okay? I heard you come back late last night and I hate thinking about you walking about on your own.”
He wants to say that he’s eighteen and basically an adult and that New York City at 3am doesn’t scare him, but him and May have been so close his whole life and it must be difficult, her watching the little boy dropped abruptly on her doorstep all those years ago growing up and moving on. Other than Uncle Tony, who walks in and out of his life when it suits him, May is all he has. And she’s only got him. There’s a lifeline there that holds them indefinitely together and she hates watching it stretch, fray.
“Steve got me a cab,” he says gently, “And I’ll bring my bike tonight. I’m totally fine. I promise.”
She gets up, kisses him on the top of his head, between the curls that are still damp from the shower. It makes him feel like a kid, but not in the restrictive, controlling way Tony does when he’s pissed at him. It makes him feel nostalgic for the time where May would kiss his scraped knees better when he tripped on the sidewalk and make him peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off for his lunch box.
“I love you more than anything,” May says, her mantra. You don’t have a lot, but you do have me.
Peter smiles. Blinks slowly. “I love you too, May.”
-
Just before he leaves the apartment for another round, a notification lights up his phone. He doesn’t recognise the number, but he opens the text anyway, and it’s a link to a Spotify page ran by username blackwidow. The playlist is titled for peter.
-
“You’ve looked them both up on Instagram, right?”
Wanda says this as she drops on the sofa next to him, propping her feet on the coffee table. Clint and Nat are bickering in the office adjoined to the kitchen and occasionally he can see one of them through the window—he’s almost certain at one point Nat had Clint by the throat, but Thor looks at him, shaking his head. You just gotta let them ride this one out.
“Uh…what?” Peter absent-mindedly replies, dragging his eyes away from the pot of pens that has just collided with the window. Wanda doesn’t react. It must be normal.
“Steve and Natasha,” Wanda elaborates, “I did. It’s the first thing I did, after I met them. You wanna know about someone’s life, you find their social media. Or lack of it.”
Peter sighs. Well, at least it’s not just him. “Yeah, I did.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t sent Natasha a request.”
“Nope.”
Wanda grins. “She’s meticulous. Natasha. Obsessed with privacy and who gets to see what. I’m surprised she has social media at all. I mean…it’s not illogical, considering, but she does not reveal her soul to just anybody. Steve, on the other hand, is an open book. Not very good at hiding anything. Which is usually a good thing, sometimes not.”
Peter tilts his head, taking Wanda in. She’s wearing makeup today, black smudged round her eyes. May’s right, she is pretty pretty. “You seem to know quite a lot about them.”
“I’ve worked with them for a while now. And anyway. They’re interesting. You see it, too. Sometimes it’s hard to look away when they’re together.” Wanda doesn’t flinch when another crash comes from the office. “You wonder how they work, because they seem so very different.”
Peter shrugs. She’s not wrong, obviously, but he doesn’t want to look too interested, like the creepy fans that leave leery comments on Steve’s pictures. “People do say that opposites attract.”
“People are stupid. And vague. What even are opposites?” Wanda’s laugh is low and sort of croaky. “I am just glad they found their way back to each other.”
“How did they even meet?”
Wanda’s smile is the same one he saw yesterday, like he’s encountered a dead end and she knows it. This is not her story to tell, like so many others. “I am sure you will find out eventually.”
Clint bursts out of the office, then, dabbing at a cut on his cheek with a napkin. He looks kind of like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards, flustered and breathing hard. His eyebrows lift when he sees Peter sitting there, offering the two of them a quick greeting.
“Oh, and Clint!” Natasha calls out, appearing from behind the door, “Could you get me an iced latte?”
Clint considers for a second, before nodding. She throws him her reusable mug and he catches it with one hand before turning to leave.
“Don’t even try and get me to explain that relationship,” Wanda says, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Peter laughs under his breath. It’s like Nat said, in the conversation he shouldn’t have heard. We don’t have to understand everything.
-
At about 11pm that night he joins Wanda for a cigarette out the back fire door and for the first time, he feels kind of cool, watching as the end burns a tiny amber dot, ripping a hole in the black. He’d never smoke one himself—the fact that May is horrified by him consuming alcohol is bad enough—but he likes watching her, how oddly and decadently beautiful the smoke unfurling from her lips is.
At the bottom of the alley, a motorbike pulls up and a man that looks vaguely Steve-shaped jumps off of it. Wanda glances at him with a smirk, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of her boot. His arms fold out, and a woman runs into them, their laughter echoing down the street. They obviously don’t know that him and Wanda are watching; it feels like a private glimpse that they’re not supposed to see, a privilege. Natasha’s legs wrap round his waist. They hold each other for what feels like minutes, hours.
He can’t take his eyes away the whole time.
“I told you,” Wanda elbows him, brushing past to get to the door. “They’re magnetic. You’re pulled into their orbit.”
“I just…I don’t know why,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Maybe it’s the way they look at each other? Like the whole world could burn to ashes and they’d just…stand, in the afterglow.”
“You’re poetic, Parker,” Wanda muses, “But you’re not wrong, either.”
They’re pulled back into the heat of the club when Clint realises they’re not working, grabbing them both by the shoulders and violently shoving them back onto the bar. He’s not paying them to gossip about snapchat and heelies, or whatever the kids are into these days, apparently. And Thor can only handle so much attention before his ego combusts.
He’s mixing a bad gin and tonic when Natasha and Steve finally come into the back. Her tiny frame guides him through the throngs of people as a The 1975 song plays in the background, crooning about skinny jeans and spare time and she’s got a boyfriend anyway. They disappear down the basement steps and Natasha must be a little drunk, he reckons, because the door is barely shut when they start kissing.
-
It takes about two and a half weeks, give or take, for things to start to feel normal. The hours fuck up any semblance of a sleeping pattern, but he’s no longer waking up with a thudding in his skull like a second heartbeat and Wanda’s tip about earplugs help a ton. He arrives at about three, sometimes earlier, sometimes later. He’s usually off again by two unless Nat or Clint are feeling generous about clean-up. The bar is shut every Sunday and the freedom is near divine. He doesn’t get up until midday and spends the rest of the day in his pajamas, eating pancakes and watching shitty reality television about people who are paid to sing badly or hate each other.
Steve is in the bar most nights and whilst he doesn’t always talk to Peter, he begins to miss him when he’s not there. He’s usually got a motivational speech or two in his back pocket, and it feels pretty fucking awesome that Steve Rogers seems to care a little about his wellbeing.
He hasn’t had the nerve to ask about how they met, yet. Wanda is still tight-lipped and Clint is borderline psychotic anyway, so each of them feel like a dead-end. He’s stuck with assumptions and watching them from his peripheral.
“You know, he wrote his last album about her,” Clint says in a rare moment of honesty, while they’re preparing for opening. Steve and Nat are tucked in a booth by the door, her knees brought to her chest, speaking impossibly close together. “It’s abhorrently adorable. Almost puked when I heard it.”
“What?” Peter says skeptically, “You mean the whole of See You In a Minute is about Natasha?”
“The whole goddamn thing. Sickening, isn’t it? I think the title is some sort of private joke between them.”
Peter doesn’t mention that Steve’s last album is his favorite, because he doesn’t need more excuses for Clint to bully him. Plus, he needs to push on. He needs to know more. “Have they always been like that? You know. Close.”
Clint pauses. He’s polishing glasses, but lays the cloth on the counter, looking over at him. “I’ve known Nat a long time. Long enough to know that it takes…a lot, to impress her. To pull her in. Even with me—and with Steve—it took her months to realise there was a mutual trust there.” He grins a little, showing the softer side to all that strident energy. “If you tell her this, I will violently murder you, but I love that girl to bits and I wouldn’t accept just anybody taking her away from me. But I accepted Steve immediately. So take from that what you will.”
It doesn’t really answer his question, but he supposes it answers a bunch of other unasked ones.
There’s a moment of silence. And then—
“Have you and Nat ever…?”
The look Clint gives him makes him realise he knows better than to finish that sentence.
-
(He brings up See You in a Minute on Spotify the moment he has time alone before opening, back on the leather couch in the basement. He figures the songs might have a new meaning now he knows who they’re about. His thumb taps the titular song—a slow, atmospheric ballad that sits in the recesses of his heart as soon as he hears the opening piano chords.
I have one last dance all saved up for you
He really wishes he wasn’t crying, but he just can’t help it.)
-
A band is playing that night called The Guardians who everyone but Peter seems to know well. They’re a six-piece retro rock band that the crowd goes wild for—they all have crazy hair colors and equally crazy names, apart from the lead singer, who’s messy brown hair is barely brushed and is weirdly also called Peter. They stay for a while after their set has finished, building up a substantial bar tab that Clint’s on their ass about. Peter Quill and his girlfriend Gamora (the other singer and guitar player of the band, her hair bright green and her lips painted black) sit on the stools and tease Peter (who they call Little P, hilarious) until closing time.
“Are you even allowed to serve alcohol?” Quill jibes, sipping a beer, “Isn’t there a rule against children being anywhere near liquor in public?”
Gamora pokes his shoulder. “Maybe it’s some sort of psychology project. He’s studying us for a paper.”
Peter can’t even be bothered to argue at this point. He still gets this same genre of comedy from Clint on a daily basis so what’s a couple more age-related jokes? He just smiles, mixing a cosmo for Gamora’s scary looking sister who silently glares at him from the stool next to her.
“You know what would be a fun psychology project,” Quill points a finger in Peter’s direction, “Nat Romanoff.”
Peter pauses for a second. “What makes you say that?”
Quill’s limbs are loose from all the drink he’s been downing before, during and after his performance, so his movements are all exaggerated and floppy. “Don’t tell me you’re not interested. Clint too. They both have shit in their pasts they don’t want us to know about.”
Gamora is decidedly more composed. She shakes her head, looking at Peter seriously. “All conjecture, of course. And none of our business.”
“I heard she was a spy for the Russian government,” Nebula casually mentions, her tone completely void of inflection. “She can slit someone’s neck with an envelope.”
All three of them look at Nebula, slightly aghast, but Nebula’s expression is so stoic and emotionless Peter can’t tell if she’s joking or not. Even Quill blinks heavily, knocked speechless.
“That’s…not what I meant,” Quill slurs, leaning in closer, “But there’s something there.” He taps the side of his nose. “Mark my words.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Gamora says, “Having a past you want to remain in the past is hardly rare.”
Peter’s beginning to notice a pattern with his colleagues. They all guard their memories under heavily armored doors and it’s only in occasional moments of softness or weakness where anything is ever revealed, and rarely by the person themselves. Clint let’s something slip about Natasha, Wanda about Clint. None of them really know anything about him.
“How long have you guys known Nat and Clint?” Peter asks, before tentatively adding, “And Steve?”
Quill and Gamora smile knowingly, like maybe this is a question that’s been asked before. Gamora presses a hand down on Quill’s shoulder. Peter hides the urge to sigh at another dead end. “We’ve been performing here since they opened, but if you actually want to know anything about them we’re probably the worst people to ask.”
Quill nods. “They don’t talk. If you ever find anything out, though, feel free to let us know.”
Peter laughs disbelievingly. “As if they’ll ever tell me anything.”
“Have you asked them?” Gamora replies, and Peter’s expression answers her question. “Little P, if they didn’t think they could trust you, they wouldn’t have hired you. They don’t let just anybody into their inner circle.”
“My uncle got me the job—he’s like, an investor, or something. Trust had nothing to do with it. Probably the opposite.”
Gamora’s lip curve, unconvinced. “I think you know it’s never quite that simple.”
“I don’t…I don’t even know why I’m so interested.”
“That’s what everybody says,” Gamora says wistfully, sliding him a tip across the counter. “And we should probably leave before he makes a fool of himself.”
(The he in question is Quill, who has since disappeared to join the dancing crowds with his shirt off. Nebula’s eye roll is mechanical, like the rest of her. Peter wonders if Quill and Gamora are her Steve and Nat; two wildly different individuals that seem joined together by something no-one else can see, that no-one quite understands. She downs the rest of her cocktail and makes her way towards the couple, who have since started kissing in the middle of the dancefloor.)
Gamora kind of reminds him of Michelle. Clever, beautiful, existing on a plane that floats way above everybody else. He swallows hard. He’s not sure where that thought came from.
-
By coincidence, MJ actually messages him about a week later. He’s been so busy either sleeping or working that all his friendships outside Endgame have taken a bit of a back-burner, texts stacking in his inbox that he’s been too tired to respond to. Besides, the only person he really keeps in contact with from high school is Ned and he’s spending the vacation before he goes to college with his family in Hawaii—he’s kept updated with sunkissed snapchats from the beach, exotic flowers and drinks in coconut shells. He’s hovered over Michelle’s name a few times over the past few weeks, but she isn’t always the kind to message back. She flies off grid as soon as school is out. There’s no point in tormenting himself over her lack of read receipts.
But when she messages, asking if they want to meet at the mall, he types sure before he can properly think about it. It’s a Sunday, after all, and he’s been thinking an awful lot about the limited relationships he has lately. What he wants them to be.
(That’s definitely a bi-product of Nat and Steve. He can’t put it down to anything else.)
MJ is sat by the fountain in the middle of the shopping complex reading a copy of Marx’s The Communist Manifesto, making notes with a tiny wooden Ikea pencil. Her dark hair is long and loose and she’s wearing a plaid shirt with sneakers, casually beautiful in the way she’s always been. It takes her a minute to look up and actually see him standing in front of her and when she does, her mouth opens a little, curved in a bemused grin.
“Woah, Peter,” she says, closing her book, “Didn’t realise you were edgy now.”
(She’s talking about his new Doc Martens that Wanda helped pick out. They’re shiny black leather and extremely uncomfortable, but you know, he’s getting down with the culture.)
“I’m…not,” Peter says. MJ laughs at his awkwardness. “You should see the people I work with.”
“This your new job, huh?” MJ eases back into the bench, crossing her legs. “Now you’ve decided to fuck college. Is this the beginning of a crisis? I’m getting vibes, here. Smart kids who screw college to work in a nightclub are definitely going on some sort of downward psychological spiral.”
Peter shrugs, smiling. Trust MJ to be brutally honest about his life choices. “Do you wanna grab coffee?”
“Yeah, as long as it’s not Starbucks. I’m not using my limited finances to fund their crooked corporate empire.”
They trail around for a bit before they find a cripplingly expensive but decidedly independent coffee house, filled with mismatched vintage furniture and hipster-types crowding the front windows with their moleskin notebooks. Peter feels out of place but Michelle fills the space like she owns it, lounging in an armchair angled away from the counter. She closes her eyes and asks for a chamomile tea and a blueberry muffin which he—he just gets for her.
He returns with an Americano for himself, because for some reason he wants MJ to think he’s the kind of person who drinks black coffee now, when in reality he’d prefer something fruity and sugary that has him flying off the walls.
“So…” Michelle starts as he falls into the sofa opposite, “You’re definitely not going to Princeton?”
Peter folds his legs. Tries to get comfortable. “I’m definitely not going to Princeton.”
“Interesting. Even though Tony Stark will probably fund, like, all your tuition fees?”
Peter rolls his eyes. He hates her insistence on bringing up the fact he has Tony in his life, a handy billionaire safety-blanket, like he can’t complain about anything ever. Yeah, sure, Tony would probably fund his way through college—but he wonders how much of that is guilt money, the dollars his mom and dad would have scraped together if they were still alive. Not everything is about money. Tony Stark is the kind of person MJ hates with every fibre of her being, but… Peter still loves him, and not just because he’s rich as shit. Even when he’s being super annoying.
Michelle smiles sadly when he doesn’t reply. “I’m sorry, Peter. It’s just hard for me to get my head around, you know? I would commit homicide for someone to fund my way through college. Maybe I already have.”
Peter chuckles. Has a sip of his god-awful coffee. “Where are you even going for college? I don’t think you’ve ever said. In-state?”
“It’s what I’ve been meaning to tell you, actually,” MJ admits, “It’s a bit further out than in-state.”
“Oh. Right. Pennsylvania?”
“Bit further than that.”
“…California?”
“Not exactly.”
“MJ, are you going to make me run through every college I know about? Tony’s shoved just about every prospectus in my direction so we might be here a while.”
“I got accepted onto a philosophy program,” MJ starts, bringing her teacup to her lips. “At University College London.”
Peter almost spits his coffee out everywhere.
“I honestly didn’t think anything would come of it. The whole admissions process in England is completely whack, and they don’t have SATs and stuff over there so I didn’t think I had a chance. But—I don’t know. Something happened, and I got in. So I guess I’m moving to London.”
He’s not completely sure what she’s saying, just watching her mouth move and nothing but blurred, incoherent noise reaching her. She said London. MJ is moving to London, and that’s a hell of a long way from anywhere.
“You’re moving to London?” he just about manages to squeak.
“Yep. Totally aced it, dude. Time to live my English dream. You know. Try and abolish the class system they have over there and stage a revolution against their monarchy.”
A vacuum opens in his stomach, like he’s just now realising that he doesn’t really want to live in a country that isn’t the same as MJ’s. But she looks so happy. He doesn’t want to be, but he can’t help it. He can’t not be happy for someone who is about to do everything they’ve ever wanted.
Nevertheless, it’s an inconvenient epiphany. Wanting to hold onto someone as soon as they tell you they’re going to leave.
“Congratulations,” he says, hoping there isn’t a crack in his voice. “That’s…incredible, MJ. You’re awesome.”
“I know! And now you’re earning a proper wage like an adult, you can totally come and visit me over there. We can eat scones and laugh at how ridiculous British accents are.” She kicks him gently, grinning. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Peter says quietly. “Yeah, of course I will.”
“Cool. Now we’ve got that out the way…” MJ reaches into her bag, bringing out her little black copy of The Communist Manifesto. “Can I interest you in a dialogue with my new BFF, Karl?”
He sinks back into his chair, feels his whole body bleed between the fabric and through the floorboards.
-
He walks into work the next day and finds Steve and Natasha sitting in one of the booths. Steve has an acoustic guitar and he’s strumming chords while Nat is nodding along, pointing at something on a scrap of notebook paper in front of him. Occasionally, he’ll grab a marker and cross something out or scribble something down. When the door shuts behind him, the two of them look over. God. He’s got a running habit of ruining moments.
“Hey Peter!” Steve calls out in his usual, friendly way, “What’s up?”
He’s about to reply, but Natasha edges in first. “Come over here. Let’s talk.”
There’s something ominous in her tone but Natasha is impossible to predict, so a vague sense of anxiety haunts him as he sidles over to the booth and sits slowly in the space Nat has made for him. He wonders if she’s firing him but Steve looks chipper—surely he wouldn’t look that happy if he was about to lose his job, right? Maybe his not so discrete interest in their relationship has…got back to them? He’s already imagining the look on Tony’s face. I said you needed a reality check.
“Am I in trouble?”
Nat laughs. Even that is low and sultry, somehow sexy. Steve laughs too. “Peter—I know we tease you about it, but you do realise you’re not in school, right? And…calm, measured conversation isn’t usually how we deal with things here.”
He recalls the argument in the office a few weeks prior. Yeah, sounds about right.
“We just want to know about you,” Nat continues, “Because—I know a lot about the people I work with. But I don’t know anything about you, other than what Stark has said. And I trust his judgement about as much as I trust Steve’s.”
“Hey!” Steve says with a pout, “My judgement is perfect, thank you very much.”
“It’s the opposite of perfect, but okay, Mr I-trust-everybody-I’ve-met-ever.”
Steve shakes his head at him. “This is what I get for not being openly hostile all the time.”
“It’s got me and Clint this far. Anyway, I digress.” She nudges Peter gently. “Tell us something about you.”
Peter is mildly suspicious about the whole thing and doesn’t know what to say, so just stares vacantly at the two of them.
“Okay…well, at least we know you’re not a talker,” Nat murmurs, “So how about I ask you a question. Who was the girl you were with at the mall yesterday?” Peter’s jaw swings open like a door on a loose hinge. Nat half-smiles. “I saw you when I was coming out the Urban Outfitters. I’m curious.”
Steve glowers at her. “Peter, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. She’s insatiable.”
“Oh, yeah. But if you don’t answer it you’ll be kind of answering it, if you get what I mean.”
Peter’s taken aback. For someone who is so private about everything, she’s appears to have no qualms investigating his private life. He coughs on nothing and shifts in his seat awkwardly. “Just a friend. From school. It isn’t—she isn’t…”
Nat laughs under her breath, looking over at Steve. “He’s right. It’s none of my business. But you two looked good together. That’s always a good start.”
“Is it?” Steve asks, and she sighs.
“I think so,” Nat splays her hands out on the table. He notices her fingernails are painted electric blue. “But, sure. It isn’t everything.”
“What is everything?”
The question catches both of them off guard and Peter instantly regrets asking, wishing he could catch his words back in a butterfly net and shove them back inside of him. The two of them are…they’re untouchable, Wanda and Clint have both made that equally clear. It’s something you find out, not something you’re told. But it’s too late now. Steve and Nat look at each other in a minute of an intense, burning eye contact and not for the first time Peter imagines being swallowed up by the seat whole.
“I guess…” Steve begins but trails off. Peter watches as his fingers inch closer to Natasha’s on a table, like they’re playing a complex game wherein they discover where their boundaries are, how far they can go while he’s still there. “I guess everything is when you’re sat in a room, and there could be just one person it or thousands, but it doesn’t matter because none of those faces are the one you want it to be. The only perfect room, the only one you’ll ever be happy in, is the one they inhabit with you. To leave it…or for them to leave, feels like you’re constantly just gasping for air.”
Natasha looks away. Somehow, Steve manages to drag his eyes away from her, after saying all that, and back to Peter.
“But sometimes everything is just knowing the favorite brand of ice cream they like to eat when everything is awful or the setting they prefer their washing machine on. It’s all about striking a balance.” He half-smiles. “Sometimes it takes a while to find it.”
Peter frowns. He likes Michelle, likes her more than he’d ever let on if the uncontrollable reaction his body had after she said she was leaving is anything to go by, but how can he know if it’s everything? What Steve is saying sounds suspiciously like soulmates, if they exist. That not being with them feels like dying. What he feels for MJ is blurry, inconstant; but it’s there all the same. He’s not sure if that flame is supposed to become anything more. Not that it matters.
“Michelle is moving to London for college,” Peter says desolately, then rolls his shoulders. “She’ll be living a whole other life over there. I can’t expect her to fit me into it, even if she liked me back.”
“Hey, Peter?” Nat says with a sympathetic smile, “Distance sucks, but you know what sucks more? Waiting too long. We know a thing or two about it, and I’d recommend quite heavily against it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Steve adds his two cents, “I’d give it a one star review on Amazon for being the worst ever. Not what I ordered, arrived broken, the lot.”
Clint enters and asks if they need a witness to sign the adoption papers and Nat throws a dirty washcloth at him, everything returning to normal. But there’s a warm feeling in Peter’s chest, because this is the closest he’s ever got. Maybe Gamora was right.
-
He sends Michelle a text that night, asking if they could maybe meet up again. She doesn’t reply. Maybe she never will, because that happens. But he’s not waiting too long. It’s not what he ordered.
-
They have an evening off a couple of weeks later because it’s Nat’s birthday. Apparently it’s tradition that whenever her or Clint turn a year older they fuck potential profit for a day and spend the night drinking whatever they can get their hands on. Instead, Peter’s invited to a small party that is hosted at Clint’s apartment across town—he’s still dragged to the bar a couple of hours before, however, to roll kegs of beer and various bottles of multi-colored spirits from the storeroom to Clint’s car for the occasion. He vanishes back home to shower and change before returning, May hastily shoving a bottle of wine into his hands as a gift as he leaves. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen Nat drink white at all, but hey. He’s only little. He doesn’t know much about liquor.
Clint buzzes him in and he follows the drum beat in the corridor to his top-floor apartment; the door is open so he just walks in, but is surprised when he sees nobody about. The speaker is blasting music into an empty room and if it wasn’t for Wanda entering the kitchen, he’d assume he’d come to the wrong house.
“Peter!” she says excitedly, squeezing him into a tight hug. Her dark hair is loose across her shoulders and she’s wearing a burgundy dress that floats above her knees. He can’t help but smile at her. “So glad you could make it!”
He leans out of the embrace, putting the wine on the counter. Glasses are spread out without any clear design, interspersed with opened bottles of various drinks. As far as he can see, there’s no non-alcoholic alternatives—May would probably freak out. “Where is everybody?”
“Did Clint not tell you? We’re on the roof. I’m just off to the bathroom but if you go through the door off the kitchen and up the fire escape you won’t miss it.”
She bounds away so he slowly makes his way up as per Wanda’s instructions. As soon as he opens the door he can hear chatter and laughter, and upon reaching the top he finds an area covered in strings of white fairy lights and odd chairs from jarring furniture sets. A bar runs along the edge near the wall where Clint is mixing drinks, rows of glasses filled with a very generous amount of vodka and garnished with olives. There are people he recognises—Steve and Natasha are tucked into a loveseat, finally comfortable with the eyes on them, with Thor perched on the edge—but mostly people he doesn’t. A man with white hair sits comfortably with a brunette woman, while two unknown men stand deep in conversation off to the side. Nobody notices him straightaway and he feels little odd, the youngest there, but Clint dramatically fist-pumps the air.
“Parker!” he exclaims, walking over and clapping him ferociously on the shoulder. He wonders just how long the drinking has been going before he arrived as he tries not to cough up his lungs. “No extra-curriculars tonight? Lacrosse, maybe?”
“Leave him alone, Clint!” Natasha says, to Peter’s surprise, but then— “He’s way too little for lacrosse. I think he’s more of a mathlete.”
“Who’s kid brother is this, then?” One of the men he clocked earlier calls out before heading over, “Could be Rogers, I suppose. You both have that needy white boy look about you.”
Peter sighs, stretching out his arms. “Should we just get all the insults out the way now? Then we can move on with our lives.”
Needless to say, the insults don’t decrease with time—if anything they continue to spike as more vodka is consumed and less fucks are given, which are outstandingly little to begin with. Sam—a friend of Steve’s from his touring days—is by far the most scathing, not letting him rest for a second. Peter kind of likes it, though. It’s the way a lot of them show affection for each other, brutally kicking the shit at every opportunity. Steve’s other friend is Bucky, someone from childhood, and the white-haired guy is Wanda’s brother Pietro who left Endgame for music management somewhere. Maria and Phil work in legal and know Clint and Nat from wherever they were before Endgame. A good-natured yet authoritative man called Rhodey turns up later, who Peter recognises from Tony’s offices but has never actually met. Maybe Tony and Pepper will turn up at some point. Maybe they won’t.
Clint offers him one of Nat’s Special Birthday Martinis. He’s on the edge of turning it down, but everybody is laughing and he kind of feels part of this, so why not. The taste is bitter and awful and Clint laughs at him for a very long time, until his eyes water and he has to go and sit down. He talks to Wanda and Pietro, about their life in Sokovia before civil war ripped it to pieces, and Steve mentions how he took Nat out for Chinese food and champagne.
Steve brings in Natasha’s cake and Nat flushes—just a little—as she sees the candles flicker in the relative darkness, like Steve is holding a fire in his hands. Her eyes flutter closed as she blows out the candles and Peter muses on what she wished for, or if she wished at all. The alcohol makes his stomach feel warm, and the people make him feel warm, and he thinks this little party in this pocket of New York City may be one of the happiest moments of his life.
As the hours lull into the coolness of the morning, guests in various states of drunkenness either leave or continue on into Clint’s apartment. Peter takes a minute to steady himself, his heady heart and clouded head. He clings onto the metal railings until his knuckles turn white, staring out over the city. His city. He can’t go to college because he can’t leave here, all the lights and the heat and the music. New York is him and he is New York. This is something that cannot be ever taken away from him.
He hears footsteps and instead of you know, staying, like a normal person, Peter’s instinct is to duck behind the bar. He’s not ready for anyone to see him yet. He just wants a couple more moments alone with the world—plus he feels a little drunk, and being drunk is the best right here.
The footsteps come to a halt barely feet away from him. He’s not trying to listen as this is weird enough as it is, but it’s difficult not to. It’s Steve and Natasha.
“Another year, another one of Clint’s illegal martinis.” Steve’s voice. “Or two. Or several.”
Nat laughs lightly. “I’m going to go with several. I better not be holding your hair back while you puke tonight, boy. It’s my birthday.”
“Well—technically it stopped being your birthday a few hours ago, Nat, but I’ll let it slide because I love you.”
“You love me, huh? That’s certainly a new development.”
“Nah, it isn’t. Loved you the moment I saw you.”
“You fall in love with everybody.”
“Not in the way I love you. God, Nat. Do you actually realise what you do to me? Every time I look at you—you rip all the air out of my lungs.”
“That sounds pretty painful.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s agony. But it’s worth every second because…because you’re you. After everything. You’re you.”
There’s a few seconds of quiet. Peter wishes he’d just gone because as much as he wanted to know about them, to feel closer to them, this isn’t…this isn’t it. This is too private. Maybe if he edges along, he could sneak…
“Marry me.” Steve’s voice hangs in the night, like one of his songs. Poignant. “Marry me, Natasha.”
Nat is quieter than Peter’s ever heard it. It’s quiet, and it cracks in the middle. “Is that Clint’s martinis talking?”
“No. No. This is me talking. Marry me. You know—you know I’d be happy, forever, with what we have now. But I want to. I really, really want to.”
“Steve…” her voice is barely a whisper. Peter’s hand balls into fists. He’s here and yeah, he shouldn’t be, but he’s goddamn invested at this point. “I’ve been told that I can be pretty hard to deal with, sometimes. I’m reluctant to inflict that on somebody forever.”
“For you to inflict your inconstant, confusing, ridiculous self on me forever would be a privilege, Romanoff.”
“You really do have an answer for anything, don’t you? Insufferable asshole.”
“I’m your insufferable asshole.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up.”
At that moment Peter’s leg just…involuntarily spasms. His foot collides with a nearby chair and it shifts across the concrete loudly, his cover completely blown. Shit. There’s no hiding now, so he peeks round the edge of the bar, finding Steve and Natasha stood with their arms around each other.
“Hello,” Peter says sheepishly, pointing towards the door, “I was just—“
“Parker, you’re not going anywhere.” Nat grabs him by his shirt and pulls him up, but there’s no malice on her face. Instead of violently throwing him off the top of this very high building for perving on their proposal, she drops him on one of the sofas. Steve hands him a nearby martini, amused by the whole situation if anything.
“You’re sitting there, and I’m telling you everything you want to know.”
#marvel cinematic universe#mcu#avengers#captain america#black widow#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#stevenat#steve x natasha#peter parker#mcu fic#fanfic#romanogers fic
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important modern westeros headcanons concerning the extended stark clan for my own modern au
important details to know
married couples: brandon and barbrey, ned and cat (duh), rickard and lyarra, hoster and minisa, brynden and unspecified beautiful man, and edmure and roslin
the starks, as we know them, are not The Starks Of Winterfell, they’re like their sixth cousins who live in winterfell the town (not the castle). they still have some runoff money from being related to them but they’re not the absurdly old money that The Starks Of Winterfell TM are. rickard and lyarra and then brandon and barbrey are at the cusp of between upper and upper middle class and then ned, lya, and benjen who didn’t go into the family business are towards the bottom of upper middle.
rickard stark is a shrewd and calculating businessman. he doesn’t ever coast through deals on the stark name, but he doesn’t like. avoid using it either. out of all his children, legal or good, he gets along the best with barbrey, brandon’s wife. rickard sent all of his children to a upper crust southron boarding school over the school years and then the “summer” (i don’t know how westerosi school years would work yet okay but imagine an equivalent of an american summer vacation) he sends brandon to stay with some friends in barrowtown, where he ended up falling in love with barbrey ryswell. he dies around the same time that bran is born of cancer.
lyarra stark, nee flint, is dedicated. she’s the one who kept up her husband’s squeaky clean public face, and she was always doing double time for brandon. when lyanna ran off with rhaegar and then came back with a baby to live with ned and cat for a few years, she was doing triple time. lyarra has a sharp wit and is very ambitious. she thinks that all of her children but brandon made a mistake when they chose not to go into the family business and she doesn’t let any of them forget it. she loves her grandchildren, even though she dislikes the circumstances of jon’s birth and thinks that ned might not have gone into police work if he didn’t marry a woman who went into law.
brandon and barbrey stark are the “someone will die.” “of fun!” couple. brandon is big, boisterous, and friendly and barbrey is hilarious, if you have a cruel and biting sense of humor. barbrey is devoted and loving, if you’re her family, and she’s disapproving of anyone who hasn’t earned her love. she and brandon don’t have children because brandon travels so much for work and barbrey doesn’t want them, but they love on ned and lyanna’s enough you’d think they were their own. brandon takes over the company when rickard dies and babrey is a higher up in her own father’s. she and roose bolton are frequent business partners.
in less fun news, barbrey’s sister, bethany, was married to roose bolton. barbrey and roose remain good friends until she attends the funeral of the man’s other son after he was killed resisting arrest for serial killing, torture, lots of not great ramsayish things because barbrey’s like “well roose is kinda a dick but it’s not like he wanted the kid to be like that. gotta go support the guy so he feels less bad” and gets a really bad vibe about the whole deal. she cuts off contact after that.
when lyanna stark was young, her mother and father were always talking about different businessmen she could marry and how she could come north and take over her portion of the family business, and lyanna felt suffocated. instead of coming back up to winterfell after her high school graduation, she runs off with her married poetry teacher, rhaegar viserion. it’s about a two year crazy ride of a romance, and lyanna ends up with a baby and the realization that rhaegar is terrible for her. she moves back up north to winterfell with ned, who was in the midst of a falling out with his parents over his choice to forego college and go into police work and his choice to marry so young, catelyn, and their young son robb. lyanna lived with ned for about four years (seeing sansa’s birth) before she died of cancer. this results in a few year long custody battle with jon’s father to keep him in winterfell. the custody arrangement ends up with jon spending major holidays of the seven and summer vacations with rhaegar and his siblings but all the rest of the year with ned and cat.
benjen made his way north to work for an expedition company north of the remains of the wall. he has not married and does not plan to. he dated a few women back in college, but it wasn’t really his thing. he tried dating a few men later on, but it wasn’t his thing either. benjen’s just kind of a lone wolf. he’ll spend holidays down in winterfell, and sometimes ned and cat spend the children up for a week or so at a time for a little break and because benjen loves his niblings
the tullys! depending on the way that i’m feeling on a given day they might be named tully and just be so distantly related to the tullys of riverrun that they can’t even prove a connection, “blackfish” as the children of a riverlands knight who admired brynden tully, or just “fish” because that’s a real last name and the idea of it makes me giggle. the family grew up in maidenpool.
hoster is a former physician well respected in the communtiy. he and his wife, a surgeon, made quite a nice living for themselves, and now hoster is in hospital administration, running the one at the university of maidenpool, one of the most respected institutions in the country.
minisa whent met hoster at the beginning of med school and the two have been together ever since. becoming a surgeon was difficult for minisa because of all of the obstacles that were against her, but she never let any of it stop her. she was said to have the “steadiest hands in the riverlands” and her children remember her for competent as a professional as well as for being kind and compassionate as a mother. minisa died in a car accident when catelyn was fifteen, and hoster was never the same since.
brynden was a college athlete, a pro athlete, and then a sports announcer. when catelyn was seventeen, he and his boyfriend were outed to the world and he became one of the most prominent gay celebrities, paving the way for more openly gay men in sports. he was always exceptionally close to his niblings, and once they had children, he doted on them just the same.
lysa was always a little bit unstable. she spent much of her life pining after petyr baelish, their neighbor across the street who was always in love with cat but never looked her way once. when she tried to talk to him about her affections, he laughed in her face the same way that cat had to him. when petyr moved away to king’s landing for college, he never came back and never spoke to her again, though catelyn apparently heard from him lots.
she flitted from interest to interest, always trying to find something that she was better at than catelyn. she took up a job at an after school program for primarily underprivileged kids, and while she wasn’t good at working with groups, she found that she was very good at making individual members feel loved and confident in ways that she never had as a child. she decided to start up her own home day care with high rates that only let in a small amount of kids, so that they could have more personalized attention.
she never had any luck with romantic relationships, but after deciding that she wanted a child of her own, she went through the insemination process and had robin. unlike canon robin, this robin almost never lacked peers to interact with between his mom’s daycare kids, his winterfell cousins and his maidenpool cousins, he never lacked for friends. and between his grandparents, his cousins, and his aunts and uncles, robin ever lacked for family or love.
edmure and roslin met at college. while hoster had been trying to pressure edmure into medical school, he met roslin in his intro to psychology classes and fell in love with the subject as he fell in love with her. roslin is the daughter of, of course, walder frey, by one of his later wives. walder is like a donald trump figure in all the grossesness that entails. roslin became interested in discovering why people act the way that they do (and why that way is so often Bad) and how to try to help people like, not do that. discovering a man who was so earnest, true, and kind was a breath of fresh air. edmure only completed his bachelors and ended up going into public relations at a company in maidenpool but roslin went all the way to get her doctorate and start practicing psychiatry and helping people that way. they had three daughters, minisa who’s rickon’s age, bethany who’s three years younger, and celia who’s two years younger than that.
#modern westeros au#nedcat#edmure x roslin#brandon x barbrey#asoiaf#barbrey dustin#roslin frey#edmure tully#brynden tully#lyarra stark#rickard stark#minisa whent
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Chapter 2: History Class
Cracks In The Dam Series – Reader’s POV
She’s a quiet engineering and physics major trying to forget the demons of her past, and he’s the campus playboy trying to turn over a new leaf. Their friendship is unlikely, but just might be forged to withstand the cracks in the dams they’ve built to protect themselves. (BuckyxReader college au)
Word Count: 1900
You know how you always seem to have that one class each semester that just makes you give up three minutes into the first day? History was that class for me. I was halfway through the semester and barely holding onto a D. Maybe if I paid attention in class instead of sketching new ideas in my notebook, I could bring that grade up, but honestly, who cares? It’s history. I just need a D to pass.
“Another exciting day learning about fifteenth century history,” someone says, plopping down in the chair next to me. The husky scent of his cologne and faint tinge of cigarette smoke gives away his identity before I even look up.
“Oh lovely. Another stimulating conversation with Bucky.”
He chuckled and leaned back in the chair. “It’s been long two days without me. I know it’s hard, doll.”
“Why don’t you go sit with your harem?” I was referring to the group of girls he usually sat with in the back of the lecture hall. “I’m sure they need your attention more than I do.”
“Probably.” No shame. Not even an ounce of shame. No embarrassment. No sense of humility. How do people find him—
Okay. Fine. He’s attractive. But how do people stand to be around him?
My watch vibrates, letting me know I have a text, and I look down at it to see that Tony texted me. Thankful for the distraction, I grab my phone out of my backpack and open the conversation.
Tony: Jarvis thinks I have a concussion and keeps wanting to call an ambulance. Tell him I’m fine.
“God, it’s like babysitting a five-year-old,” I mumble. He’s nearly twice my age, but Tony Stark is just a giant baby underneath his playboy exterior. I suppose rather than an uncle, he’s more like an annoying older brother.
“That the dude from your date on Friday?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a date.”
Canary: You designed Jarvis. He knows you better than you do. If he thinks you have a concussion, go to the damn hospital.
Canary: What did you do, btw?
“Not a date. Right. Dressed like you were? Doll, that dress you wore was probably more than my last paycheck.”
Setting my phone down, I gave all of my attention to the dark-haired man beside me. “Why so interested in my love life, Barnes? Your one-night stands getting boring?”
He leaned forward, arms crossed on his desk, and gave me a smirk with that damn twinkle in his eye. “Why so defensive, Y/L/N? Jealous that your best friend found her true love and you struck out on Friday night?”
“Oh, God, don’t remind me about Nat and Steve. They’re disgusting. Literally they’re always making out on the couch or in my kitchen or… ugh.” I’m happy for Nat, but still. Boundaries, girl!
Tony: It’s Bubba’s fault. I tweaked the thrusters and tested them out and that stupid machine didn’t spot me like he should have.
Tony: If I had a concussion, would I be able to type grammatically correct sentences? Checkmate.
“Boy trouble?” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and I just shot him a dirty look.
“Boss trouble. Gimme a sec.” Rather than text him back, I dialed his number and waited for him to pick up. I didn’t even give him time to say hello when he answered. “Go to the damn hospital, Tony.”
“No time, Cannie. We’ve got that—”
“I will drag your stupid ass to the hospital myself. If I’m going to be on my A-Game this week, you need to be too. I need your brain. It’s the whole reason I have a job. I’m going to tell Jarvis to call that ambulance.”
“They’ll just tell me I can’t do the presentation and—”
“For fucks sake, man. I’ll do the presentation. Your brain is your best asset and no-no, don’t say anything. I regret that word choice already. You need to make sure you didn’t fuck up and ruin it.”
“Grammatically correct sentences.” He said pointedly. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll believe it when a doctor tells me that.” I hung up and immediately called the line that Tony set up for me to directly connect to Jarvis. “Jarvis, I’m overriding whatever stupid command Tony gave you and telling you to call a goddamn ambulance.”
“Miss Y/L/N, I cannot approve an override without—”
“Override code: Please and thank you.”
There was a moment of silence before Jarvis approved the code and called an ambulance. I just loved that AI. I swear, he was more human than most humans sometimes.
By the time I finished with all of that drama, Bucky was watching me with a puzzled grin on his lips. “I’ve never heard anyone talk to their boss like that.”
“You’ve never met my boss. You’d understand.”
Just as Bucky was about to say something else, the professor drew everyone’s attention to begin another boring lecture. As usual, my attention span lasted roughly thirty seconds before I was bored to tears and turned to a clean page in my notebook.
Tony said he was messing with the thrusters? I could only imagine the kind of scene that played out when he tested them. Get footage from Jarvis, I wrote in the margin of the page before starting playing around with the thruster design.
For the presentation on Friday, we would definitely have to go with the original design. There was no way I was going to trust one of Tony’s tweaks less than a week before the biggest presentation of my life. This might not be as big of a deal for him, but this was my first real presentation. If I could nail this in front of the entire board of Stark Industries, the CIA, and select individuals from the US Armed Forces, then I was set for life. I would have my choice of jobs. I could do whatever I ever imagined after graduating next year.
I just couldn’t let Tony screw this up.
But since I knew him, I knew that he was going to play around with the design until he got bored with it, so I had to keep up with him. Maybe I could even come up with some ideas he hasn’t yet. Beat the great Stark to a breakthrough. That was the dream…
My watch vibrated again and I glanced down to see the message scrolling past the screen.
Jarvis: Mr. Stark has been admitted to New York-Presbyterian Hospital. He is not happy. I will keep you updated on his whereabouts so you will be able to find him when you are finished with your classes for the day.
“Big baby,” I whispered under my breath.
Warm breath on my shoulder drew my attention to Bucky, who was leaning over to look at my notebook. “You a fashion designer or something?”
“Or something,” I muttered. He was entirely too close to me, so I shoved him lightly. “Dude, personal space.”
The rest of class went by uneventfully. Bucky kept trying to distract me and I kept squinting at my notes on the project. There was something I could do with it. Something I hadn’t thought about yet. I just knew it.
Before I knew it, class had passed and everyone was suddenly moving, shoving their notebooks and laptops into their bags. As if snapped out of a daze, I looked around.
“Well, that was a fascinating lecture, as usual,” Bucky drawled, stretching his arms back and over his head. Why guys always took up so much space was a mystery to me.
“I sure hope none of that is gonna be on the test,” I mumbled, gathering my things.
Bucky stayed by my side and, uncharacteristically, stayed quiet until we were out of the classroom. Ever since Nat, my best friend, started dating Steve, his best friend, Bucky and I found ourselves together all too often. So I knew that he rarely shut up.
“You know,” he started, and I nearly groaned. So close. So close to a full sixty seconds without speaking. That would have been a record. “I could help you out with this class.”
“You? Really?”
His brow furrowed minutely and there was a wounded expression that flashed across his eyes. It was so brief that I nearly didn’t catch it. “Hey now, just because I’m hot and sexy as hell doesn’t mean I can’t be smart too. You should know.”
That made me scoff. “Right.”
But… if Bucky really could help me out in this class… I was teetering right on the edge of failing. I really didn’t want to retake this class next semester…
“No strings?”
“What kind of strings would I attach, Y/L/N?”
We stepped out into the cool fall air and I stopped just before going down the stairs to the building. Bucky imitated me and I eyed him for a long few moments, trying to discern his true intentions. Why did he offer to help me? What did he have to gain?
“Okay,” he gave in with a hidden smile. “Fine. One string.”
“Ha! I knew it!” There was always something.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to word his stipulation. “One string: friendship. That’s it. I promise. I’ll help you, but you have to admit that we’re friends.”
That was not at all what I had been expecting. “Why?”
He huffed a small laugh and there might have actually been a spattering of blush on his cheeks. “Alright, this is going to make me sound like a complete douche, but it’s the truth. I swear.”
“Spit it out, Buck.”
“I like this,” he motioned to the space between us. “Because you’re not into me. Besides Nat, you’re the only other woman who doesn’t try to get my attention or get into my pants. It’s refreshing.”
“Poor Bucky,” I crooned. “It must be so hard to have all the women falling over themselves for you. Being the resident sex-god must just be the worst.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Douchey, right?”
I shook my head and started walking towards the library. “It’s conceited, is what it is. I can guarantee you that Nat and I are not the only women who don’t want to sleep with you. You just never notice the girls who don’t pay any attention to you.”
“You’re probably right,” he surrendered. “But about our deal, whattaya say, friend? Besides, we’re gonna spend a lot of time together anyway, with Nat and Steve dating. Might as well just accept the inevitable.”
My watch vibrated just as I started to respond and I glanced down to see a short message from Tony seconds before another text came through from Jarvis.
Tony: I hate you.
Jarvis: Mr. Stark has a mild concussion but is otherwise in excellent health. He is going back home.
Turning my attention back to Bucky, I gave him a small smile. “Let’s see how the first study session goes.”
“Tomorrow at one? Grab some lunch while we’re at it?” With a victorious grin, he started walking backwards away from me.
“I have to work all day. I can do Wednesday at one though.”
“I’ll meet you at your place with food, then. See ya later, friend!”
Watching him walk away, I wondered what the hell I’d just gotten myself into.
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Fav long fics?!
Since I don’t know exactly what long fics are to you, here’s a list of my fave 50k+ fics in no particular order :)
Kaleidoscope by Vendelin [E, 54k]
Stiles spends a year before college working at the all-night coffee shop in town. It’s nice and quiet, until one dark and brooding Derek starts coming in every morning, ordering coffee so strong that it should not be fit for human consumption. Ever. Stiles tries not to be affected by the mystery guy, but it’s not like anything else happens around here, so really, what did you expect? And when he’s already in too deep, he realises he might even be in way over his head…
Safety in Silence by Survivah [M, 66k]
It’s perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn’t want to be Derek’s soulmate.
Easy Trouble by Survivah [M, 55k]
Derek+Stiles+fairies = love spell
“Make love to me,” Derek demands.
What.
The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis) [M, 116k]
In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)
Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach [E, 76k]
“Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf.” An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.
Trust Fall by Stoney [E, 144k]
Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it’s pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.
Great. Wait…does this mean he’s the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit.****
Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over.
They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn’t be calm and focused.
Of course.
Settle Down by wearing_tearing, whatthehale [E, 153k]
Stiles is a struggling author barely making ends meet.
Derek is a successful architect whose biological clock is ticking.
Enter a surrogacy agency, two packs, and a particularly sticky and toe curling heat week and you get a match made in heaven.
Important Things by suzvoy [M, 71k]
Stiles learns that even with werewolves, giant lizards and psychopathic hunters on the loose, life can still find other ways to screw with you. Case in point: everyone keeps assuming he and Derek are a couple. What the hell?
We Got Something Magic by alisvolatpropiis [E, 50k]
Scott is never bitten, so Stiles never meets Derek or learns about werewolves. He is, however, since a young age, captivated by a recurring dream of a beautiful, red-eyed wolf that he comes to hold dear to his heart. After college, he moves to Seattle and decides to get a tattoo to acknowledge his dream Wolf, finding a lot more than he expected at Triskele Tattoo.
In which Derek is a tattoo artist and a good alpha, Laura is alive, and Stiles and Derek share each other’s dreams.
Prince Among Wolves by tylerfucklin (Zimothy) [E, 101k]
Looking for full day/evening sitter. 2 twin boys age 4. Must have exp. w/werewolves. Must be human. No pedophiles. No teenage girls. Pay negotiable.
Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi [E, 83k]
“Three weeks,” Derek says.
“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.
“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…
“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“
“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”
“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.
What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm [E, 118k]
There’s something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can’t quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.
There’s something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.
Cornerstone by Vendelin [E, 83k]
Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.
Move A Mountain by ZainClaw [E, 69k]
Stiles goes camping with his friends in New Mexico after graduation where they befriend a biker gang led by Derek: a guy whom Stiles can’t decide if he will be either relieved or devastated to never see again once their week is up.
Stiles’s Story Time by trilliath [E, 125k]
Where Stiles is a librarian who is in charge of the kids’ reading hour and such. And Derek is 6-year-old Scott’s adoptive dad. And Stiles has his own take on Stories and Scott loves wolves and Derek tries not to admit that he likes the way Stiles’s face looks in those glasses.Or something like that.
Enemy Lines by qhuinn (tekla) [E, 149k]
This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.
Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.
Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.
Play It Again by metisket [T, 63k]
In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.
“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”
A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse [E, 115k]
“I’m sorry, I believe there’s something wrong with my hearing,” Stiles said. “Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me.”
Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn’t misheard a damn thing.
After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.
Months later, there’s an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won’t last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott’s brother.
In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.
Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel [E, 77k]
“So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.
God, he dreams.
He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it.”
With or Without You by KouriArashi [T, 62k]
Derek thinks that the mating rituals are overly romanticized bullshit, but claiming a mate and defending them from challengers is something werewolves do, and his pack can’t afford to appear weak after the fire. Especially not when Deucalion and his friends are in town for the rituals. Enter Stiles Stilinski, who offers to let Derek claim him so he won’t be overrun at the ceremonies. Nothing goes as expected.
Specialized Technical Intelligence and Logistics for Earth and Space (S.T.I.L.E.S) by Yiichi [NR, 73k]
“What the hell kind of a name is Stiles?” he asked.
“You know, a series of sounds spoken in a particular sequence that represent my identity, primarily, referring to me?“ the AI – Stiles – answered cheekily, crossing his own arms in front of his chest, mirroring Derek’s position.
“Ooh, this one’s feisty,” Peter smirked.
[Sleep]Walking After You by relenafanel [M, 56k]
Derek is a sleepwalker who keeps wandering into his downstairs neighbour’s bedroom.
Stiles is pretty sure the hot guy from the park is going to kill him in his sleep. He knows he shouldn’t have been so obvious about objectifying the guy’s really fine ass.
Too bad it turns out Derek is easier to get along with when he’s sleeping.
According to Plans by eldee [E, 72k]
Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn’t have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles’ plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)
There’s Monsters at Home by calrissian18 [E, 83k]
“How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.
The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”
Derek despised him.
Don’t Speak by fatale [T, 68k]
The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something’s wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can’t understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it’s gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he’s lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?
Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.
I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter [M, 51k]
Stiles finds a baby on the porch.It looks exactly like him.Well, this is awkward.
the broken radio is playing suicide by decideophobia [E, 73k]
Stiles only wishes they could actually be safe. They haven’t been for nine months now.
Little Wild Animal by DiscontentedWinter [E, 61k]
Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack’s property.Humans are supposed to be extinct.But then, Stiles is full of surprises.
Shot Through The Heart by LunaCanisLupus_22 [E, 64k]
All they’ve given him is the guy’s head shot. And it’s terrible because now he is ridding the world of one more ridiculously attractive, instant pants dropping- take me now, if you please- regulation hottie.
Even if he has a scowl to rival Kristen Stewart.
Or the one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.
Sell Your Body to the Night by Dira Sudis (dsudis) [E, 121k]
“No,” he repeated impatiently. “I’m not a cop. I’m someone who wants to exchange my money for your sexual services. I was told you were in that line of work.”
“I, uh, yeah, sorry,” Stiles said. He glanced around again and then up–the full moon was almost directly overhead. Just one of those nights, maybe. “Yeah, I am. I do that.”
a mountain to climb by grimm [E, 126k]
“Don’t do it,” he mutters. “Don’t do it, please, don’t do it.”
But there it is, a soft pink line appearing right next to the control. Stiles’ legs give out from under him; he sinks to the bathroom floor, hands shaking, his entire body shaking. It’s hard to breathe, his vision blurring around the edges. There’s a knock on the door behind him and then it opens and Scott sits down next to him.
“I’m fucked,” Stiles gasps, tears prickling at his eyes. “I’m fucked!”
here comes trouble by grimm [E, 105k]
All Derek wants is one day where he can sleep without worry of being woken by gunfire, without the threat of death hanging over his head. He wants a full stomach and no pain clinging to his bones, no ache in his feet from months of running. He wants a shower, a safe place to put his head. He wants his family, the healing comfort of pack. He’ll never have any of that again.
A Devotion by TroubleIWant [M, 77k]
There’s a boy exiting the doors as they approach. Where Derek is tan from hours outside, the boy is pale except for a few beauty marks on one cheek. He’s dressed in fine riding clothes, and flanked by a guard wearing the sign of the royal house. A noble, then. He’s younger than Derek, but, considering his higher station, a bow would be appropriate. Despite that, Derek can’t help looking curiously at the boy, who’s looking back at Derek with just as much interest. For a moment, their eyes meet - the boy’s are a deep amber in the sunlit courtyard, ringed by long, tawny lashes.
A gloved hand smacks the back of Derek’s head and he instinctively flinches away, hunching his shoulders. He loses track of the other boy as they pass one another, and as he turns to get another look, the knight grabs his shoulder and marches him forward into the stable.
“Keep your eyes to yourself,” the knight instructs. “And next time, show the proper respect to Crown Prince Stiles.”
Or: A medieval AU that’s a little Princess Bride, a little bit more Game of Thrones, and a healthy side-serving of gay erotica.
Kindred Spirits by Stoney [E, 104k]
Stiles is the adopted son of the Sheriff, brought to Beacon Hills to hopefully stay for good. A family, a best friend, school, Jackson as Josie Pye (because who else could he be?) and the mystery of a dark haired, green-eyed boy which leads Stiles to discovering a secret within himself.
The Circus at the End of the World by mikkimouse [E, 91k]
Three hundred years ago, the world ended not with a bang or a whimper, but with magic.
Since then, magic has been outlawed, and the world has clawed its way back to some kind of stability, with people and shifters alike divided between living within the walled safety of the Havens, or the small, less protected outposts dotting the frontier.
Derek Hale and his sisters, Laura and Cora, are the proprietors of Hale’s Circus of Magic, Monsters, and Mystical Wonders, known colloquially as the Circus at the End of the World. They and their ragtag pack ride the rails between the outposts and the Havens, performing for those who can pay (and some who can’t). Their circus is a small haven in and of itself, a place of safety for those who have nowhere else to go.
It’s a quiet life…until Stiles Stilinski joins the crew.
The circus has something Stiles needs—a ticket into the Haven of Santa Francesca. His father has been abducted, and Stiles is determined to get him back no matter what he has to do.
But Stiles has another secret, one that puts him and every member of the circus in danger. And if he’s not careful, it could get them all killed.
Pack Wars by miss_aphelion [M, 158k]
Scott liked to call it the Great Pack Divide of 2012.
Derek liked to call Scott an idiot.
(Or the one where Derek kidnaps Stiles to teach Scott a lesson, and ends up learning a few things himself)
(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll [E, 78k]
The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing’s gotten less complicated after all this time.
Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.
Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.
In Other Words, Baby, Kiss Me by primroseshows [E, 61k]
Stiles has simple goals in life. To successfully complete his secret radar project without getting fired, to get a cottage on the Moon, and to untangle his mess of feelings for Moon Station 3 deputy, Derek Hale. Heck, he’ll even settle for two of the three.
Hunger by DiscontentedWinter [M, 55k]
Beacon Hills.Two lost souls.A homeless boy, a lone wolf, and people who will stop at nothing to destroy them both.
Put Down in Words by paintedrecs [M, 203k]
“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”
“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.
“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.
*
When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.
Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.
The Fox & The Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous [E, 79k]
The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.
Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people’s anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.
For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.
One life stand by Vendelin [E, 84k]
Stiles is used to selling himself to make ends meet. But it’s getting harder to keep those ends meeting, and there’s only so much of Stiles to go around. Until a too-fancy car shows up in his neighborhood, and he meets Derek Hale.
All Derek wants is Stiles’s time, someone to stay on his arm for events and smile for the cameras. It’s the easiest job Stiles has ever had, the best-paying one he’s ever had, and he’s more than happy to sign up.
Derek is everything and nothing Stiles expects him to be, with his tailored suits, sharp mind and his quiet way of caring. But it’s just a job and Stiles never meant to fall in love.
No Homo by RemainNameless [E, 84k]
Stiles’ sophomore year starts something like this:3 FourLokos+ 1 peer-pressuring cat- 1 best bro to end all best bros= 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads “str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic”.Derek is the fool who replies.
Cross our bridges when we come to them by RemainNameless [M, 103k]
The five times Derek called the Sheriff “Dad” on accident and the first time he did it on purpose.
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TumblrFrostbite's AU Question: Regarding your OTP (Josie and Kazuya)'s child, how similar and different from their parents would they be growing up?
OHMYGOSH I CAN’T BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE INDULGING ME INTO THIS CRACK SHIP RARE OTP OF MINEbhsdbj. You are heaven sent bruh
Also, this got a little too long so I’m sorry ;w; I just have these two’s story written out so much in my head that I can;t help but, explain in so much detail ;w;
Okai, so Josie and Kazuya getting married and having a kid is a BIG WHAT IF or just a heavily implied AU. Because seriously, we’re talking about Kazuya here. The dude with serious daddy issues, mommy issues, child abuse, and trust and abandonment issues. Hell, he is clearly a textbook sociopath from the books I read.
But, let’s say he’s just a really heavily scarred man that can stray away from his past issues and can actually break away from said textbook sociopath. I imagine some life-threatening event happened first to either him or Josie before they actually got married. He’d be all like, screw world domination and destruction, if he can have a chance of a happy life with Josie, then he’d try to change. If that thought seriously came to him tbh.
So, if this were going to happen, I imagine him and Josie having deep talks and months or even a year of planning first before even considering having a child at all. Kazuya would bring up the past a lot and the devil gene. He probably already has it ingrained in his skull that his family was always meant to betray and kill each other and that would be fine for him, if Josie wasn’t in the picture. I imagine Josie trying to soothe out Kazuya’s past traumas herself until they eventually come to a time where they have couple/marital consultation and family planning consultation. But of course, entirely private at the confines of their home and no, they will not talk about the devil gene with the therapist.
This was probably suggested by one of Josie’s friends or advisors of Kazuya. I imagine the dude actually having advisors or something. Although, they’re usually for business, but since Josie talks to them, they caught up on the problem and tried to help. (Besides, Josie helped them with Kazuya actually coming close to below average nice.)
So, after months or a year of planning and consultations you’d think Kazuya would be ready for that shit but, no. This would be one of those very rare moments where Kazuya would feel a mixture of nervousness and joy and fear all at the same time.
In my head filled with fanfiction stories, I headcanon them having 3 kids, 2 boys and a girl. (PS: This fanfiction will never be written because not only do I not have the time for it but, I also know nobody would be interested enough to read it lol)
Their first child was a boy, which is why Kazuya was also reminded by Jin. Their first kid looks nothing like Jin(except maybe for the eyebrows), most of the baby’s features leaned towards Josie, even the skin colour and hair. So, he cried because he has mix feelings of wanting to protect the child but, also being heavily worried because what if this child would grow up to be just like him and Jin?
Kazuya is strict, more strict than, Josie could ever be. Having grown up from a traditional family of “Are you worthy enough to carry the name Mishima?”, all of those expectations and not to mention his own molded personality of being cruel; he has a hard time knowing which is punishment for the child and which is being a cruel father like Heihachi was to him.
Josie agreed on their child learning the Mishima fighting style as long as the kid also gets to learn Arnis and Yaw-Yan. Their children’s fighting style is a mixture of those two. Josie is your strict Asian mother that’s like “Your grades and all this blah blah blah must be high”, although she’s just a model and professional kickboxer, I imagine she’s also a college graduate with a degree somewhere in the field of medicine or engineer. She takes studies and extra-curricular activities very seriously and is always on full-on support to whatever her child loves to do.
But, she can also be a very doting mother who’s easy to give in to her child’s wants. But, It’s something like a reward system of “If you finish your homework then yes, we can go to Disneyland afterwards.” type of thing. Josie quite easily fit into the rick lifestyle since her family was already above middle-class before marrying Kazuya. Also, how she raises her children is exactly the same as to how she was raised, only with more expensive tastes.
Kazuya never realizes or most of the time doesn’t realize when he’s being too harsh and pushing their Mishima heir too hard. The kid would be in tears and he’d only think of it as “Inheriting the cry baby trait from his mother.” thought.
Him and Josie would have constant fights about how Kazuya is traumatizing their child. Kazuya tries to listen of course but, he always gives the rebuttal of “How can he be a Mishima if he can’t do this and that” kind of thing or “If he doesn’t become strong enough, his devil will consume him!” and the only way for him actually see that he’s in the wrong is when Josie tells him that he’s turning into his father. Kazuya would never want to be like Heihachi so, they make up with that and more therapy for Kazuya ensues.
Kazuya only got to be really close with their kid when Joshua (Yep,their kid’s name. Something like Joshua or Junichirou because it’s a Mishima thing to be named after their mother) was around 5 years old. Yes, they had their playdates together and Kazuya wanted to be home more often because he wants to see his family (But also protect Josie and see if the kid’s devil gene would active early)
Josie always explains to their kid how Kazuya is a good man and he just has a hard time understanding others so she asks for their child to be more understanding of his father. Joshua always tries to win his father’s favor by training hard, doing good academically, and trying to be an affectionate son by giving letters, handmade gifts, and cooking with his mother. More often than, not Joshua breaks down from pressure and high expectations from both of his parents. They’re both very demanding so, I imagine Joshua getting a therapist even at a young age.
That and also because I love the headcanon from Kazuyagoddamnmishima that the devil gene gives you chronic nightmares. Kazuya is used to it, but ever since he and Josie got together, they’ve lessened. He can’t teach his son how he coped with them so, they brought him to a therapist instead. Even though, Joshua hasn’t activated his devil gene yet, the nightmares still happen because of the pressure and expectations. They all stay up together to keep Joshua company (Kazuya is quite reluctant at first but, eventually gives in and it becomes a family routine to sleep together from time to time)
On the less angsty side of this though, is that Kazuya and Joshua play baseball together and bond over their shared loved of collecting sneakers. Their love for sneakers got them to spend more time together; shopping for sneakers all over the world. Kazuya had already forgotten how fun it was to actually not think about anything and just enjoy being a sneaker head with his son.
Their favourite family trips would have to be either playing baseball or basktetball (Josie kinda pushed for it because it’s a well loved sport in the Philippines and Joshua likes it too) or going to beaches. They make sure to always visit the beaches in the Philippines so their kid could also spend some time with his grandparents.
Also, Kazuya buying every game console known to mankind and inviting the Rizal family over to Japan so the relative’s kids could play with Joshua. That or they bring everything to the Philippines and it somehow worked out with them renting a whole hotel because their stuff could not fit inside the Rizal family home.
When Kazuya’s defenses against Joshua eventually crumbled down, they decided to have another since Joshua was already 5 or 6 and Josie really wanted a new baby, especially a girl.
They had twins. Kazumi is older by 2 minutes to Alfonso (named after Josie’s grandfather). Josie gets to name their children because Kazuya isn’t good with them in a sense that he feels uncomfortable with it. Joshua only got the second name Junichirou because he’s going to inherit the Mishima Zaibatsu one day. He’s happy with the Filipino names though and there was a time where they thought using real Filipino names (because most are either Spanish or Ameircan names in the Philippines) but, they decided not to do so because family tradition. They both come from families where you hand down an old family name to the children or well, in Kazuya’s side the feminine or masculine version of the grandparent’s names.
Kazumi looks like Kazuya, hence she looks a lot like her grandmother Kazumi Mishima. The only thing she inherited from Josie is her wavy hair, almost morena skin colour and short stature (both Joshua and Kazumi are on the rather short side. 5′5/5′6 and 5′3 respectively) whilst Alfonso is a mixture both of his parents, Kazuya’s hair and eyes, Josie’s eyebrows and nose, Kazuya’s lips, Josie’s cheekbones, and out of all the siblings he has the lightest skin colour. Alfonso stands about 5′9 to 6′0.
When Kazumi and Alfonso were born that was the moment Kazuya felt like a real father whom was protective and would do anything for his family. Kazumi was like a precious little treasure to him and was pretty much at shock for the feelings of becoming a father to a daughter.
When the twins were born Kazuya started to really drill into Joshua about the family and inheritance. He trains both Joshua and Alfonso hard and when it comes to Kazumi, he doesn’t realize how soft he becomes until Kazumi herself points it out to him.
Out of all the siblings, Kazumi inherited Kazuya’s rather dark and stoic personality. Although, Alfonso has that scary unapproachable aura to him, people should be more afraid of Kazumi. She’s as cruel, unforgiving, and sadistic as her father(Josie eventually soothes it down from her). Joshua and Alfonso are the softy cry babies that are more like, Josie(They grow out of it unlike, Josie though. But, they have what we call Pusong Mamon-literal translation sponge cake heart, where you’re a cinnamonroll softy that cries even at the smallest saddest things and love helping people out like a saint-). And yes, they all inherited Kazuya’s sense of humor. Very dark.
All in all, the Rizal-Mishima family is a cute coping family that goes on routinely scheduled therapy. Except for Kazumi, nobody knows how she can keep herself normal with the nightmares. There is a small fear in Kazuya that she’d end up like her grandmother but, they all pray it won’t happen. But, it just so happens that there is a strong personality trait like that in the Hachijo clan that Kazumi inherited.
They’re all Roman Catholic btw, the kids and Josie. Kazuya doesn’t believe in religion but, Josie does and that influenced their children and made them accept their devil gene a little more easier in a sense that they could use the power for good. Alfonso has yet, to active his devil gene till he reaches somewhere around 20. Joshua activated his when 13 and Kazumi 5.
#frostbite883#Tekken#Josie Rizal#Kazuya Mishima#Mishima Kazuya#Rizal Mishima Family AU#Jozuya#Josuya#Kazusie#Heihachi Mishima#Kazumi Mishima#Mishima Heihachi#Mishima Kazumi
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