#...he can talk endlessly early game. but probably would not answer shit in a way that isn't blatant lies. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovely-ateez · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Strings~

ꕥPosted: 7/20/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, College!au, Rockstar!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Yunho

ꕥWord Count: 10k+

ꕥWarnings (please read all!!): Yunho’s ex is an absolute asshat, death threats towards both Yunho and reader, mention of knives used as weapons, San is a bisexual king (happy late pride month), unprotected pool sex/public sex (no one is around but I guess it still counts), masturbation (f), foul language, mentions of alcohol intake, reader is mentioned to have dark brown eyes several times which you can just ignore if you have different colored eyes ofc, mentions of a restraining order against an ex, please let me know if I missed something!!

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay @nevieatiny

ꕥA/N: The song lyrics are ones that I wrote myself specifically for this au and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous about posting it. I know there isn’t any tune or anything, but hopefully it sounds like a real song someone might sing. Also I’m not writing angst for a while after this holy shit I’ve been crying too much over this I’m emotional okay

“Date night! Date night! Date night!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s arm, bouncing on my toes.

Yunho raised a hand to cover his ear, scrunching his face, “Babe, I love you, but I think you’ve deafened me.”

I pouted at his tone and crossed my arms, “You’re such a grump.”

“Oh whatever.” He smiled, “You ready?”

I smiled at him and nodded.

Ever since his band, Sidekick Heart, began to pick up traction, he had less free time and our full-day dates once a week soon became date nights every few weeks. Most of his time was spent writing songs, producing them, and practicing endlessly. The fact that he had a tour coming up soon just meant he had even less spare time. I was happy for him, of course, but I couldn’t hide my disappointment that he was leaving.

In middle school, he and three of his friends formed a band for fun, which they kept with all throughout high school. They got good, really good and almost right after they graduated they were signed by a label. Now, three years later, they’d already released two albums and one EP and earned enough money to make a living, which was why Yunho dropped out of college a month ago. Since he had steady career path, he saw no reason to continue and decided to focus on music. He still visited me at college whenever he got the chance, but his visits were becoming more and more sporadic.

We started dating freshman year of college. We had our difficulties as most couples do, but everyday I thanked the stars for pairing us together. I met him on the first day of French class, a day I know I could never forget, no matter how how our future played out.

I sat my backpack on the table in front of me, looking around the empty classroom. I was ten minutes early, so I wasn’t surprised about the lack of students. It was a bit unlikely for me to be so early, but I wasn’t able to sleep the night before and so I had extra time to get ready. With nothing else to do, I took out my phone, reading some missed text messages.

I heard the door open and my head tilted upwards, meeting eyes with a fluffy-haired brunet. He shyly smiled at me and I returned the gesture. The man took a seat in the front row across from me, only a few chairs in between us. I found it cute that he liked to sit in the front of the classroom, too. Very few people did. He turned away from me to place his backpack on the floor and take out a few books. I took the opportunity to look at him. He was attractive, for sure. His short sleeved solid black shirt followed his movements, tattoos peaking through his top. The shirt itself tucked was into ripped jeans, his black shoes matching the outfit, along with various accoutrements. His look was uncommon for college students, most just wore sweatpants with with a casual shirt. I thanked myself for dressing nice that day.

I tilted my head to get a better look at his side profile. He was so handsome that I seemed to forget I was staring. I couldn’t help but get caught up in him, not realizing that I was no longer being subtle.

He spoke without moving to face me, “You’re pretty cute, too.”

“I-I what?” My eyes widened, realizing I’d been caught.

He turned, a charming smile on his face, “You aren’t exactly discreet.”

I took a breath, trying to form a coherent sentence, “Well...can you blame me?”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. What’s your name?”

I hesitated before answering him, which brought a full smile to his face. He moved closer to me before holding out his hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to keep my hands steady. His hand was soft, clearly he took care of himself.

“I’m Yunho.”

I smiled, observing the way he lit up as he turned my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my skin. I felt my face heat up and averted my eyes. Yunho chuckled as he released my hand. Both of us looked up at the sound of the door opening, a group of students entered, followed by a lady who I presumed to be the teacher.

Yunho looked at me, “Meet me after class?”

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt excitement build in my stomach, wanting nothing more than for class to end as soon as possible.

The instant the teacher ended her lecture she left with the rest of the students, who were talking among themselves. My eyes flickered to Yunho to find him looking back at me, his backpack now thrown over his shoulders.

“You have any classes after this?” He asked in a nonchalant manner. Later he confessed to me that he was far more nervous than he appeared, claiming that he fell in love with me at first sight.

I finished placing my notebook in my bag, zipping it up and putting the straps over my arms, “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got World Politics in ten minutes.”

“Aww damn. I was hoping we could grab some food.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out his phone, “Maybe I could get your number instead and we could meet up later?” He wasn’t pushy or demanding, simply asking.

I nodded quickly, “I’d like that, Yunho.”

He suddenly became more shy, the tips of his ears dusting a beautiful shade of pink, “I like the way you say my name.”

I giggled, trying to hide my own shyness. I took his phone and entered my number, really hoping that he would text me. As if he read my mind, he confirmed what I was thinking.

“I’ll text you,” He looked at me with sparkling eyes before shaking his head, like he was pulled back to reality, “Oh uh...you should probably get to class.“ He raised a hand, somewhat awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah I probably should. I’ll see you around?”

He smiled, “I’ll see ya.”

It wasn’t long before he texted me, and it made my heart flutter that he kept his word. A day later we met up, grabbing ice cream and getting to know each other. He was a dance major and had to practically beg his parents to let him pursue dance. In return they said he had to repay them with getting straight A’s. He had one younger brother who was possibly the biggest baseball fan to ever exist, he roomed with three men he’d been friends with since kindergarten, and he absolutely adored my brown eyes.

“They’re just beautiful.” Yunho gushed, “Both times I’ve seen you they just sparkle and shine like they’ve got their own little galaxies in them. I’ve never seen anyone with such genuine, kind eyes.”

I let out a girly laugh at the compliment and covered my mouth with a hand, “You’re really trying to flatter me, aren’t you?”

“Depends. Is it working?” He laughed as he propped his head on one of his hands, leaning closer to me in the booth we were sitting in. We’d finished our ice cream long ago, now shamelessly flirting and getting lost in each other.

“It might be.”

“Well I do mean it. I’m not only trying to flatter you.”

The ringing of his phone caught our attention. He smiled apologetically and reached for the device. He sighed, reading the contact name and looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry I’ve gotta take this. It’s one of my roommates and it’s entirely possible they’ve set the house on fire.”

I laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.”

Yunho excused himself as he answered the call, walking outside. I took a look around the shop we were in, smiling at all the decorations when I noticed a woman sitting alone, eating ice cream and staring at me. Her eyes were such an ice blue that they made her intimidating, to say the least. I wasn’t too surprised, I’d dressed nice and all throughout the day I’d been getting looks. Taking it as a compliment I smiled at her and waited for Yunho to return.

“So good news,” He started as he sat back down in the booth, running a hand through his hair, which was way more attractive than it should’ve been, “They haven’t burnt down the apartment, but San—he’s one of my roommates—his car ran out of gas a few miles away from here so I’ve gotta go help him. Can I drive you back to your own apartment first?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to worry you.” I waved a hand, “I can have a friend pick me up.”

He nodded, “If you’re more comfortable with that, sure, but I’d rather drive you home, if that’s okay.”

I nodded, walking with him as he guided me out to his car. We had our first kiss when he dropped me off, leaving me with the promise of another date, and he delivered. Time and time again he proved he truly cared about me, which inevitably led to a relationship.

We heard a loud crashing in the basement of the house and Yunho let out a frustrated groan, “Oh god it’s happening again.”

He walked over to the basement door, opening it and sighing at the loud yells emitting from below.

“What is it this time?” Yunho shouted.

Wooyoung’s voice rung out, “San won’t let me use the controller!”

The man in front of me placed a hand over his eyes, over the situation entirely, “You’re still fighting over that game?”

“Crash Bandicoot waits for no man!”

“San let him have the controller or I’ll come down there and I’ll beat both of your asses!” Yunho shut the door, giving me a tired smile and walking back to me, “You’d think we would’ve outgrown this stage by now. I’d fire them both and hire a new bassist and drummer if I could.”

“Okay that’s an absolute lie, and you say that like you’re any better. I saw you arguing with Seonghwa over the last bag of chips yesterday.”

He pointed a finger at me, not trying to hide the smile on his face, “Okay that was absolutely valid. I bought those and they were mine.”

I smirked. “My point still stands.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, changing the subject, “How about after our date I sing you a couple of our new songs?” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing my ear, “I wrote a few about you.”

I pulled back from him, feeling warmth spread in my chest. “Really? You did?”

Yunho wrapped an arm around my waist, “How could I not? You’re always my inspiration.”

I let out a string of incoherent gibberish which prompted the most adorable eye smiles from my boyfriend. I felt too honored to put my emotions into words.

“Go on.” Yunho motioned to the front door, “Grab your purse and head out to my car. I’ll let the guys know we’re going and I’ll meet you outside.”

I gave him a salute, “You got it cap’n!”

His eyes warmed, “God, I love you.”

“I know!” I teased before I grabbed my purse and skipped out of the house. The sun would be setting soon and I admired the several hues that were painted within the sky. I sat on the hood of his car, swinging my feet as I saw him walk out of the house.

“So where exactly are we going?” I tilted my head, looking forward to his response.

“Well I’ve got a couple ideas.” He held up his long fingers and counted off on them, “We could go bowling, or we could have a late night picnic, or maybe...” He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me with a mischievous grin, “We could go swimming.”

My face lit up, “I haven’t been swimming in forever!”

“I know, that’s why I recommended it.” He laughed, “Let’s break into the swimming pool downtown. It’s definitely closed by now so we can be alone.”

I raised my brows at his words, a smile widening on my face, “Don’t we need to bring swimsuits, though?”

Yunho grinned at me and moved a hand to ruffle my hair, “Nope. We’re going without ‘em.” He lifted me off his car, “Hop in, babe.”

We approached the fence with our hands interlocked, a new message greeting us. A red and black sign with the words ‘No Trespassing’ was attached haphazardly to one of the metal wires looped through the fence surrounding the pool.

Yunho tsked, “Aw that’s cute. Like that’s gonna keep us out. This is basically our pool anyways.”

I laughed, both of us knowing full well there was no method of security beyond the sign and fence. The pool had never installed security cameras and after word spread that the owner had a fear of advancing technology, we had no worry of being caught.

He cupped his hands, holding them out for me to step on. I placed my foot on his hands as he lifted me up, helping me scale the fence. I stepped back, feeling a thrill as Yunho jumped over. It was probably the fourth or fifth time we’d done this, but each time was just as exciting. We walked over to the edge of the pool, its light blue water and the dark blue of the sunset opposing one another but making a beautiful visual.

“Alright, off we go.” Yunho’s fingers danced to the hem of my shirt, then pulling it off and ridding me of the layer of clothing. He pressed several kisses to the exposed skin, making me shiver.

Yunho then pulled back from me, slowly removing his shirt and giving me a teasing look when he caught me staring at his abs, “I look good, don’t I?”

“Shut up,” I laughed, lightly slapping his strong, tattooed arm before removing my skirt, enjoying the way my boyfriend’s eyes devoured me. I returned the action when I saw him remove his jeans, something he was clearly enjoying as well.

I turned back to the pool only to be thrown over Yunho’s shoulders. He let out a string of laughs as I struggled to get down, fearing that he would throw me into the water.

“If you throw me into the pool I’ll kill you!” I laughed, squirming on his shoulders.

“No...I would never do something like that.” I wasn’t even facing him, but I could hear the smile in his voice, which was my only indication that he was about to throw me into pool.

Before I could try to make any sort of escape, he tossed me into the water. It was cold, but less cold than I expected it to be. I coughed up a bit of water as I resurfaced and when I opened my eyes I squinted at Yunho, annoyed at how attractive he looked with the evil smirk on his face.

“You’re a jerk.” I said with no venom behind my words.

“Yeah, yeah. Brace yourself I’m coming in.”

I barely had time to move before he jumped in, his legs tucked to his chest. “Cannonball!”

I moved my hands in front of my face to block the wave of water coming my way, not feeling any surprise about my boyfriend’s childish behavior. When he resurfaced he faced me with a smile, wading towards me, embracing me in his arms, and wrapping my legs around his waist. He was so tall that he could reach the bottom of the pool without having to swim, unlike me, where I was no near reaching the bottom and needed to swim in place. With a satisfied hum he pressed several wet kisses to my neck.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by my skin.

“I love you too, babe.” I hesitated before I said my next words, still overwhelmed at how strong my feelings were for him, “You’re the love of my life.”

He pulled back with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining almost as if he was tearing up, “I knew you were the love of my life the moment I saw you. And you’re all mine.” Yunho said before he placed a delicate kiss to my lips.

“All yours, babe.”

His long fingers danced along my sides, grabbing at my hips as he began to attack my chest with kisses. I giggled as the feeling of his stubble tickled my skin.

“You know, you really ‘oughta shave before you get a full beard.”

“Why? Are you saying I wouldn’t look good with one?”

I cupped his face, “You’d look amazing with one, but I thought you didn’t like beards, babe?”

“Hate ‘em.” Yunho’s laugh echoed around us, “Really weird that men can grow them in the first place. But anyways...”

His hands made quick work of my bra, letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. I opened my mouth to scold him but before I could his mouth latched to my right nipple, sucking and nipping on it in a way that made my hands seek out his hair and tug harshly at his locks. Letting out a growl, Yunho placed one hand on the the pool wall for balance and the other on my back, drawing abstract shapes there.

Yunho moved to my other nipple, giving it the same treatment and smiling when he heard my moans. In a flash he removed his hand from my back and pressed me against the pool wall, his hand now traveling to my panties.

As he removed the final item of clothing he ran a finger over my clit, giggling to himself. I gave him a look and he clarified, “Babe, you’re wet enough to fill an entire swimming pool.”

I groaned, pressing my head into his chest, “You make that same god awful joke every time we come here.”

“And as such I couldn’t let tradition die.”

“Shut up and fuck me.” I laughed, promptly helping him out of his boxers.

He continued to tease me after, switching between playing with my clit and stretching me out with his long fingers. By the time he finally gave in, I was a whimpering, pathetic mess, begging for more.

As he aligned with my walls he looked at me with delicate eyes, “Ready, little flower?”

I nodded quickly, chanting ‘yes’ over and over. Yunho once again placed a hand on the wall and hooked one of my legs over his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper inside me. He held my hand with his free one, a simple action that always melted my heart. Despite how long we’d been together, I would always get overwhelmed by him so easily. Everything about him exuded such a strong aura that sometimes just the smallest kiss would leave me breathless. The first time we were intimate he took his hand in mine and assured me he would be gentle, and every time since he’s held my hand. It wouldn’t feel right without our hands together.

“Shit—it’s been way too long since we’ve done this.” I said as he snapped his hips into mine, quickly repeating the action.

“God I know.” He let out a pained groan at the thought of it, “Four months is gonna be fucking awful without you.”

“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got now.”

“Guess we will.”

The sounds of water splashing and the echos of our moans, a symphony I had become so familiar with, was gradually reaching its crescendo. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open but I forced them to be, needed to memorize everything about this moment. The sweat dripping down Yunho’s forehead, the tattooed muscles he was flexing, the sounds and praise he was emitting, and pleasure we were both feeling--I wouldn’t see nor feel this for the next four months.

A particular snap of his hips had me seeing stars and I called out to him, letting him know I was close. Within minutes, both of us were panting and reeling from our highs. Yunho pressed his nose against mine and both of us closed our eyes, enjoying each other’s presence.

“How come every time we come here it ends in sex?” I giggled.

He blinked and moved a strand of wet hair out of my face, “Because you’re hot and barely wearing any clothes and no one’s around.”

I blushed at his compliment, “I mean like I’m not complaining or anything.”

A cocky smile formed on Yunho’s face, “Well it certainly didn’t sound like you were a moment ago.”

“Yunho!”

The man laughed, lifting me up and spinning me around in the pool before cradling me in his arms.

“I hate to say it, but we do need to head back. The world awaits for us, I’m afraid.”

I sighed, pressing into his chest, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He stilled as he pulled me closer, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You don’t have to miss me yet, though.”

“I know.” I swallowed, wishing I had something more to say.

“Come on, then.” Yunho gave me a quick kiss, “Let’s head back.”

Yunho held the front door open for me, giving me a gentle slap on my ass when I walked through. I turned around and gave him a playfully annoyed look, which he only laughed at.

As we walked towards the living room, the sound of a random sitcom filled our ears. Six heads turned our way after hearing our footsteps. Seonghwa was resting his head against his long-time girlfriend. She was a sweet girl and complimented him more than any woman I’d seen him with. They really were soulmates, if they ever existed.

San was sitting holding hands with a man he’d been interested in for awhile. I’d often see him flirting with various men and women, but he never went any further than that, too afraid of commitment. This man; however, seemed to breaking through San’s walls. I really hoped they would work out, San deserved someone as kind as him.

Wooyoung sat across from the them, who acknowledged us first.

“Hey guys. Have fun?” Wooyoung asked, smiling at my soaked hair. He had his arm around a woman I’d never seen before and I was certain that none of us would ever see her again. He had the reputation of a playboy, and every poor woman thought they’d be the one exception, the one to make him stay. I’m sure the allure of being a drummer in a band was part of his appeal, too. Maybe one day, like San, he’d settle down.

The woman became visibly upset when Wooyoung looked me with a teasing glance. Feeling sympathy for her, I decided to do my best to calm her nerves.

I spoke for us, linking hands with my boyfriend. “Yeah, we did. I think we’re gonna go clean up though.” I looked at the woman, “I’m y/n, by the way. I’m Yunho’s girlfriend.”

She didn’t even try to hide the relief on her face. “Oh! I’m Solar. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung started, “Best girlfriend he’s ever had. Much better for him than Lucy.”

Yunho glared at the man, “Thought we agreed not to bring her up?”

Lucy, the woman Yunho dated before me, was arguably the scariest person I’d ever heard about. They dated for roughly three months before she became obsessive, to the point where Yunho had to get a restraining order against her. She threatened to hurt all of Yunho’s friends and family, all because she wanted Yunho all to herself. That was about all Yunho ever told me about her. Not that I complained. I didn’t exactly want to discuss his exes, even more so when they were that crazy.

I never told him, but I knew I saw her the first date we went on. I could see the way her piercing, ice eyes saw through me. I had no doubt it was her. I just hope I’d never see her again. Maybe now that she saw he was taken she’d leave us alone. There was an uncomfortable silence following, none of us knowing what to say until San spoke.

“You look like a wet dog, Yunho.” San joked, prompting laughter from a few of us, which seemed like more of a noise of relief rather than one of actual humor.

“Yeah, yeah.” My boyfriend relaxed his shoulders, “I think we’re gonna head in for the night so don’t make too much noise.” Waving them goodbye he caught up with me, placing a hand around my waist.

“Shower with me, doll.”

I placed a hand on his chest, “I would love to.”

I came out of the shower wearing my favorite large shirt of Yunho’s, drying my wet hair with a towel. The smell of chlorine had gone away for the most part; whatever chemicals the owner put in that pool always made the smell harder to get rid of. Only a small price to pay, I figured.

My boyfriend, who was much quicker than I was, looked up from his phone as he was splayed out across his bed. His tired eyes smiled at me while motioning me over. Yunho’s own hair was still drying and with his bare face and crooked smile, he was as handsome as he could ever be.

“Hey there.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He reached an arm out to me, pulling me against him when I took his hand, “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.” I hummed, sleepily smiling against his neck.

“Too tired to listen to the song I wrote for you?”

“No! Not at all.”

Yunho chuckled, slowly brushing my hair aside and turning his head to look at me. As he had countless times, he took a breath before he turned to me, beginning to sing.

“You give me fireworks

I’ll give you the kindest words, my dear

Your love caught me

The moment I met your eyes

And how could I not fall?

Your heart bared, no disguise”

I fought to stay awake although his melodic voice seemed to be lulling me to sleep. I felt myself losing consciousness, but managed to catch the last few lyrics he sang to me.

“Now I sunbathe in the daybreak

Half asleep, half awake

Writing this song

As I hope I’ll dream of you”

Yunho brushed his fingertips brush against my face before he spoke, “Goodnight, flower.”

I muttered some form of a “goodnight” before I felt sleep take over me, nuzzling happily against my boyfriend.

I woke up in a panic, unsure why my heart was beating so fast until I looked at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I was an hour later than I should’ve been at my job. It seemed that even unconscious my body knew I was late.

“Oh shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I spoke with wide eyes.

Jumping from Yunho’s bed I stripped myself of his shirt and quickly threw my clothes on. The body that laid beside me stirred, moving the covers aside.

“Are you leaving?” He asked sleepily, his face puffy from sleep and an adorable pout on his lips.

I frowned, “Yeah. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together, babe.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Both of us slept in.”

I tied my hair back, sighing. I was so caught up in my thoughts I almost missed Yunho’s question.

“Sorry what was that?”

He smiled, “You’re coming to our going away party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I moved back to the bed and hugged him, feeling my heart sink. I was proud of him, I really was, yet couldn’t help but feel sad that I wouldn’t see him for so long.

This was the longest tour they’d ever gone on and we’d never been apart from each other that long before. I trusted him and I was confident in our relationship, but realistically, all members of Sidekick Heart were attractive young men and a good portion of their fans were female. I was far more concerned about the female audience doing something than I was about Yunho making a move on another woman.

With one last squeeze of his shoulders I pulled back, goodbyes beginning to fall from my lips before Yunho pulled me back.

“I need a goodbye kiss.”

I pressed my lips together with a smile, gladly indulging him. Giving him one last kiss against the lips, I bid him farewell until the following day.

“So how was work?” My roommate asked as I walked in the house, propping her feet up on our couch and tossing a kernel of corn into her mouth, the lighting of the TV illuminating her blanket-covered body.

I sighed, sitting down on the floor next to her, “Other than being an hour and a half late and missing an important meeting I think it went okay. I’m just glad the day’s over.” Rubbing a hand over my face I turned to her, “What about you? How was your day?”

“Pretty damn good actually.” She smiled, removing the blanket and showing me the new ink on her upper arm. It was an assortment of flowers and matched her bubbly personality perfectly. They were now the fifth adornment on her beautiful dark skin, each one of them tempting me more and more to get a few of my own.

“Another one already, Tiff?”

“Listen, you’ll know how addicting they get as soon as you get your first.”

“You sound so confident that I will.”

“Oh I know you will. You’re dating a rockstar, after all. Not to mention he’s the goddamn lead singer and has tattoos of his own.”

“Shut up.” I giggled, “Speaking of, are you coming to the farewell party tomorrow?”

“I plan on it, but I’ll probably be there a couple hours late. My dad’s flying into town for the weekend so I plan on visiting first. I’m definitely coming though.”

I hummed, “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. We all know it’ll go till sunrise anyway.”

She let out a loud laugh, likely remembering the last party of theirs we went to where she ended up more drunk than I’d ever seen her. She claims she remembers flashes of the night; playing strip beer pong and being dared to steal one of the neighbor’s bushes—which, after much convincing from those who were sober, she decided against it—but didn’t recall half of the hilarious memories of her the rest of us did. Personally, my favorite was watching her hold a tomato soup can and cry over the fact that it could never have children.

Tiff let out a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, turning in my direction. Her words were muffled by her yawn as she spoke, “Imma go to bed now. You good before I go?”

I smiled at her, “Yeah I’m good. I won’t stay up too much longer, just need to go through my nightly routine of looking at the stars, ya know, the usual.”

She nodded, wrapping the blanket around her and heading to her bedroom, “Sleep well, babe. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Back at ya.”

It was a habit of mine, gazing at the night sky before sleeping. It gave me comfort knowing that out there, somewhere, there was something else out there with me. Almost like I wasn’t going through everything alone.

I set my purse down when I reached our kitchen, reaching for a tea pot and tea bags, brainlessly brewing my favorite tea as I thought of what Yunho might be doing right now. It was probably most likely that he was practicing for their tours, but I could only hope he was getting a little bit of rest.

I stepped out onto our porch to look at the stars with a cup of tea in my hands, the night sky twinkling with all the stars it could offer. A slight breeze rustled my hair and I closed my eyes, thankful for the pleasant weather. I heard a sudden snap of a branch and my eyes quickly opened as I searched out property for any sign of an aggressive animal. My eyes finally landed on a human-like figure. Feeling adrenaline run though me, I decided to confront whoever or whatever it was.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I spoke, my voice loud but not quite a yell.

The figure took off it’s hood to show their face, and I saw a familiar pair of ice blue eyes, though I hadn’t seen them in years, “I’m here to see you, of course.”

My brain quickly connected her to the woman I hoped I’d never see again.

Lucy.

“Well I don’t want to see you. Leave.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense, “But I came all this way! Just to...say hello.”

I took a step towards her, hoping that if I appeared confrontational she would leave me alone. “I don’t know who you are, now please leave. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Oh, you poor girl. You really think you have the upper hand?” She pulled out a knife, and walked towards me at impressive speed, pointing the weapon at my throat. “I know you’ve been seeing Yunho. I. Don’t. Like. That.” She emphasized every word of the last sentence, anger woven within her voice.

I wanted to fight back. Everything in me was screaming to fight back, but I knew I had no chance. I had no idea what she was capable of, and I didn’t dare to find out.

“I dated him first and he’s still mine. You’re going to break up with him, you hear me?” She screamed in my ear, the sound shaking me to my core, “I never want to see you near him again.” She grabbed my jaw harshly, forcing my eyes to lock with hers. “I bet he doesn’t even love you.”

My eyes watered. I knew she was wrong, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the harshness of her words I began to doubt myself.

Her grip tightened and I let out a yelp, “He loves me and I love him. He’s always loved me, not you. Why would he ever love a thing like you?”

She then threw me to the ground, towering over me, “Break up with him. Make him hate you. If you don’t,” She squatted down next to me, once more pointing the knife at my throat, “I’ll kill him myself and make you watch. Then,” She cocked her head, a crazed smile plastered on her face, “I’ll kill you. If I can’t have him, no one can.” She stood, smirking at me, “And you know I will.”

She kicked me in the stomach, watching as I crawled into myself, groaning from the pain. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.

“I’ll be watching you at the party tomorrow. Do it then. Break his heart. I’ll kill him then and there if you don’t.” She looked down at me and scoffed, “And I’ll be bringing friends to make sure the job gets done.”

I carefully opened my eyes to see her stepping over me, walking back into the darkness from which she came. I scrambled back into my house, hyperventilating from the interaction I just had.

I spent the night crying, not able to sleep even for a minute. I tried to think rationally, but there were just too many variables. How many ‘friends’ was she bringing? Would she really kill Yunho in front of everyone? Where would she be watching me from? Is she watching me now?

I could text or call Yunho to let him know, but where would we go from there? He’d want to meet me and she’d kill him instantly. Right?

“Maybe I could pull him aside at the party and warn him?” I murmured to myself, “No, she could probably see that. Maybe there’s people actually at the party who are looking out for us, too.” I covered my face with my hands and fell back into my pillows, weeping as I knew I had to break up with the love of my life.

Choosing to wear a yellow dress honestly couldn’t have been more ironic. Yellow was supposed to be a happy color. A color of hope and yearning, innocence and warm days full of laughter. It was the complete antithesis of how I felt and what I knew I had to do. Even worse, the weather was perfect. It was sunny, but not so much to make it unbearable outside. Everything about today made my insides twist.

I took a breath at the door of Yunho’s house, bracing myself for what I had to do. Knocking a few times I heard a commotion inside before the man I came to see opened the door. His smile had never been bigger.

“Baby!” He cheered, pulling me into a bear hug and ruffling my styled hair, “I’m so excited you’re here!”

He looks so ecstatic. And I have to break him.

The thought crushed me and brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t let him die. I knew she was serious, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. I grabbed Yunho’s arm, pulling him outside and away from everyone in the house.

I looked at the ground as I felt my lips begin to quiver, “I’m sorry. I just need to get this over with.”

Yunho bent down to meet my eyes, “Hey, hey. What’s going on sweetheart?” His voice was gentle, one of his hands coming to rub the tears from my face, “I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated anyone. “I don’t love you, Yunho.” My hands began to shake beyond my control, my own body knowing I was making a mistake.

“W-what?” Yunho’s voice cracked. A moment of silence passed before he let out a hollow laugh, “Baby, you don’t mean that-”

I looked up at him and immediately wished I hadn’t. Tears were welling in his eyes, his own hands beginning to shake.

“I said I don’t love you Yunho!” I said louder than I intended, “Not anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry.”

He took a step back and I noticed his hands clenching, something he always did to keep himself from crying.

“If that’s what you want,” Tears fell from his eyes before he finished his sentence, “Then I’ll support your decision.” He looked to the side, not knowing what else to say.

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and explain everything, tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, not even for a second, but I couldn’t. Instead, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and looked at him one last time. He was so fucking handsome, so goddamn kind, and here I was doing this to him. Maybe he did deserve someone better.

“Good luck with your tour, Yunho. I know you’ll be fantastic.”

I turned and walked away from him quickly, leaving the house and ignoring the stare I could feel on me. I ran across the yard to my car, starting the engine and leaning my head against the steering wheel. I felt myself lose all oxygen in my body, the only option left to take large gasps of air. My vision was so clouded by tears I couldn’t even see anymore. I’d just lost myself along with my other half. I’d never felt as empty as I did in that moment.

Just then I heard a knocking on my window. I half-hardheartedly lifted my head and felt my heart lurch. Yunho was standing outside my car, eyes red and puffy, looking at me like I was the last person he’d ever see. I opened my car without thinking, my breathing still as uneven as before.

Yunho spoke, his voice coarse and distant, “I’m not asking you to change your mind, but I need you to know that I have always loved you and I always will. That will never change.”

I wiped the snot from my nose but didn’t bother to try and fix the mascara I knew was streaming down my face. I knew I had to look horrible, but he still held so much love for me that it was easy to see in his eyes. I fought myself to not reply, knowing that if I’d open my mouth all I’d say was ‘I love you’ over and over again.

“Is it too out of line to ask for a last hug?” He smiled sadly as more tears poured from his eyes.

I shook my head, running into his arms and embracing him. I felt like I made a mistake the moment I did because I could smell him. He was wearing the cologne I bought him for his birthday. His warm, sturdy chest...everything about him felt like home.

“Goodbye, Yunho.”

I arrived at home alone, tears still stinging my eyes. Tiff was nowhere to be found and I couldn’t decide if I was thankful or sad for the fact that she wasn’t there. I barely made it out to our porch before collapsing once again, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, it could’ve been one hour or three, but given the setting sun it looked like it was the latter. Once more I heard a noise outside our home, and once more the female figure appeared before me.

“You did good,” Lucy said, twirling her knife in her hands, “Dare I say I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” I cried, “I did what you want now get the fuck away from me.”

“My, my. You have quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” She tsked, “But you did as I asked, so I might as well comply. Don’t; however, think that you can go crawling back to Yunho and tell him about this. I’ll keep watching you and if you decide to do just that...I’ll follow through with my promise.”

I kept my eyes on the ground, convinced that if I looked up at her I’d attempt to rip the hair out of her head. No anger I had ever felt before could surmount to the rage I was feeling.

“Nonetheless, it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss.”

As soon as she came, she was gone. When I finally let myself look up, I could no longer see her, only darkness. Once again, I was alone.

Six months had passed since I broke up with Yunho and today officially made the third new date I’d went on. All of them were absolutely horrible. It wasn’t even that the guys were mean or rude or weren’t attractive, they just weren’t him.

Why am I even trying to move on?

I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy, the bags under my eyes ever prominent. I couldn’t fool myself. I’d never be able to be with another man again. I forced myself to hold back tears and reached back to untie my hair, preparing to take a bath in hopes that it would take my mind off of things.

I began to run the warm water as I reached for several candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, trying to forget the entire day altogether. As I waited for the tub to fill I grabbed my phone, opening Instagram for no other reason than to have something to do. Although Yunho and I broke up, I still followed their band account, as well as their individual accounts. Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung were still my friends, after all. Yunho was the only exception. Both of us unfollowed each other early on just because it was too painful. I didn’t hold it against him and hoped he didn’t hold it against me either.

Regardless, my eyes found the most recent post on Sidekick Heart’s account. All four members were shirtless, their hair dripping wet with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. They were standing by a pool, the same one Yunho and I would often break into. I noticed Yunho first, how could I not? His smile wasn’t as wide as the other’s, his eyes a bit colder, but he looked happy all the same. He looked good. Really, really good. He was always fit while we were dating, but he gained more muscle since I last saw him and it didn’t go unnoticed by their fans, either. I clicked the comment section against my better judgement, knowing what I was going to see before I even did so.

“Yunho looks like a fucking goddd”

“So Yunho’s still single right??”

“Yunhooo hmu I beg you”

“Jesus Christ Yunho break me please”

A surge of jealousy rushed through me. I hated when girls said those things when we were together, but now that we were apart it made it even worse. I had no right to be jealous, and that was the worst part.

The water reached my leg that was resting on the side of the tub and I scrambled to turn off the faucet. Doing my best to push the images from my mind I placed my phone aside and stripped from my clothes, settling in the water. I sighed as some water fell out of the side of the tub. It wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, but it seemed to just be another thing to go wrong.

My eyes wandered back to my phone, Instagram still open and the picture I was looking at earlier still on display. He was so fucking hot and seeing that he was standing next to that pool—our pool—made my brain short circuit. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from taking me back to the last night we broke in, the way we teased each other and how it inevitably led to sex. It seemed I had no control over my body as my dominant hand slipped between my legs.

But as much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t the same. My fingers weren’t as long or slender as his and just nothing about our touches were the same, but the image of him just made my hormones rage. Every ounce of me craved him.

My fingers swirled around my clit, a bundle of pleasure shooting through me at the action. I closed my eyes, letting my body take over and repeat the motions and much as I fought not to, my brain kept replaying scenes of two of us again, and again, and again.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yunho spoke as I sunk down on his dick, barely finding the energy to lift myself up again even though the noises he made were like shots of espresso.

“Aww, is my baby getting tired?” He cooed, jerking his hips into mine.

“It’s not fair!” I whined, “I’m not good at this and you know it.”

“But we wouldn’t be a good couple if we didn’t encourage each other to work hard, right? Up you go, flower.”

I whimpered and pouted, but still obeyed him. Taking pity on me, Yunho grabbed my waist and lifted me, relaxing his grip as I moved downward. I made a noise that wasn’t understood by Yunho, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?”

“Please. More. I need you so bad.” I begged.

Yunho laughed, “I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”

I nodded before remembering that he’d probably prefer a verbal answer, “Yes. I’m w-wrapped around your finger.”

He let out a noise of satisfaction before flipping us over into a position so that he would have full control. I grabbed the bedsheets roughly, so much in my own world that I didn’t hear Yunho’s words.

“What was that?” I let out with a series of mewls.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, too, you know? I don’t go an hour without thinking about you anymore. I can’t even have a single conversation without bringing you up. Anytime someone says your name my heart beats out of my damn chest. You’re the only woman for me.”

My legs shook as my high approached, barely able to breathe at it’s intensity. It took me a minute before I could even remember where I was. As I came to my senses, I felt tears biting at my eyes and this time I didn’t bother to hold them back. I watched as they streamed down my face and joined the now-cold water surrounding me. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, glad Tiff wasn’t home to hear my wailing. She’d been good about staying with me since the breakup, but tonight she just wasn’t here. The hole in my heart felt even deeper now. I wondered if he found someone, if he was happy now. Hell, maybe it was his ex. The thought tore my heart out and ripped it in two. I wanted to be happy for him if it was true, but I just couldn’t be. I was still too selfish. I still wanted him to love only me.

New friends, new beginnings or whatever.

That’s apparently what I thought when I began attending more clubs at college after the breakup, meeting new people and eventually finding a really solid friend group. All who happened to really like punk-rock music.

“You should really go with us,” Shang directed his words at me, “There’s a new band popping up that’s playing this weekend. It’s three hours away but they have great music.”

I sighed, not fully convinced although it did sound fun. The last concert I’d been to was one of Yunho’s and though I hadn’t even seen him in what felt like forever, I still couldn’t help myself from thinking of him anytime someone talked about concerts. Sensing my apprehension, the woman beside me spoke up.

“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!” Tyra chanted in my ear, her black curls bouncing with her as she clapped her hands between the words. “Come on, it would be so much fun and you know it.”

I bit my lip, deep in thought. I knew I would have fun but I just didn’t know if that would outweigh the pain I would feel.

“What’s the band name?” I asked, looking at Shang.

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his head, “I was a little drunk when I told one of my friends I’d be there so I don’t even remember what they’re called.”

“How do you know they have great music, then?” I laughed, Tyra agreeing with me, apparently not knowing who was playing when she agreed either.

“I mean, my brother listens to their music and he’s got good music taste so they’ve gotta be good.”

I closed my eyes as I felt an oncoming headache, knowing they wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Fuck it.” I stated, “I’ll go.”

The two cheered, Shang promising that I’d enjoy myself. I doubted it, truthfully, but really it was decided that I’d go the moment the pair brought the idea up to me.

Our trio waded through the giant crowd as the doors opened to let us into the venue. It was big, one of the larger concerts I’ve been to. Whoever we were seeing was successful, for sure. The volume at which everyone was speaking was essentially a yell, so I had to do just that to get my messages through.

“I still can’t believe we have no fucking idea who’s playing!” I yelled at Shang.

He laughed, “I got seats towards the front row, though! I didn’t even have to pay for them!”

“That’s not gonna matter if we don’t know any of the lyrics, you dipshit!” Tyra barked.

“Okay okay I should’ve asked, I get that now.”

As we found our way towards the seats, there was a big projector with the words ‘Sidekick Heart’ displayed across it. My heart dropped and I suddenly felt it become hard to breathe.

“You got us tickets to a Sidekick Heart concert?” Tyra beamed, “I love their music and I’m practically in love with San! His vocals are insane! Holy shit, Shang!”

“Ohhhh yeah I remember now.” He chuckled.

I seemed to fade into the background as the two of them discussed their love for the band and the members. All I could think about was seeing Yunho again.

Would he see me? How would he react if he does?...Does he hate me?

I only came back to reality when the audience began to cheer and I saw all the members step onto stage. Seonghwa cradled his electric guitar, in one arm, waving at the audience with the other. Wooyoung plopped down behind the drum set, smiling at the audience while twirling a drumstick. With his bass guitar, San, ever the king of expressions, gave his best smoulder to the audience and it seemed like the audience collectively screamed over him. Then came Yunho out to center stage, his electric guitar in his hands and a smirk on his face as if he knew everyone in the damn building wanted to fuck him. And he’d be right. The spotlights on each of them made them look like actual gods. If I didn’t know them personally I would have thought they were.

Yunho leaned into the mic, his gruff voice taking me by surprise, “Hello everyone! Great to see you all! If you haven’t been to one of our concerts before this is how it’s gonna work: You’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sing, we’re all gonna have a fucking great time tonight!”

The crowd erupted as the first song began to play. It was one of their more popular songs and for good reason. All over it was a really well put together song and I couldn’t help as I began to mouth along to the words. Song after song played, some I knew some I didn’t, and the entire time I couldn’t look away from the man singing. He radiated confidence and looked relaxed as if he’d been performing for decades. I knew he wasn’t as cool as he seemed, I’d given him so many pep talks before performances I couldn’t count them, but as an outsider you’d never know.

I wonder who talked him up this time?

“Alright everyone. This is the last song of the night and-”

The audience booed, everyone upset at the night coming to a close.

Yunho laughed. The sound was rich and beautiful. He was truly enjoying himself. This is what he was meant to do, with or without me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

Yunho’s voice filled my ears. “I know, I know. I’d love to stay a bit longer, too. Here’s the thing though...” He paused and I opened my eyes only to see him looking back at me. His eyes automatically softened as they always did when he saw me, but as if he remembered how we ended his gaze hardened slightly, like he was trying to distance himself. It felt like we’d been looking at each other for hours before he opened his mouth to speak again, but I knew very well that my perception of time had been off for a while.

“Even if we only have this little time left, I’ve truly enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. The fact that it’s coming to an end soon is what makes it so special, I think.” Yunho broke eye contact with me, smiling slightly and glancing back out at the sea of people. “Seeing your smiling faces, your energetic cheers—all of it—is a reminder to me that we’re so lucky to be doing this as a job. Really...I love you all.”

The audience let out a chorus of ‘awws’ which was followed by several rather aggressive ‘I love you too’s.

The lead singer once more smiled, “Now, without further adieu, this is one of our newest songs and it’s called Brown Eyes, here it is.”

The music began to play, all instruments coming together to make a somber tune. Somehow they were always able to write music that perfectly encapsulated emotions or ideas. This one? Loss.

“Since you left you’re still so infused

In how I think and what I do

Can’t seem to get you to leave me alone

Your ghost stayed here and she watches my tears

That run down our picture frames”

Then he found me again in the crowd, no doubt able to see the tears staining my makeup, no doubt able to see how broken I was. And still, he sang.

“I’ve tried hard to fight it

Yet I keep givin’ in

There’s been no one but you

I’m trapped, confined

And your platinum smile still knocks me out

Every single time”

He kept eye contact with me, not once breaking his gaze. It was almost as if he wanted me to break first, as if he wanted me to look away before him. As if he was daring me to leave him again.

San stepped closer to his mic and took his eyes away from his bass guitar, Yunho’s voice being replaced by the purple-haired man. As his voice rang out I only could’ve hoped the next lyrics were about one of San ex’s, not me. Even if they weren’t, Yunho still looked at me.

“It’s not aimed at me

Maybe it never was

But oh darling, you could’ve fooled me”

My eyes flickered down, unable to look at Yunho any longer. His gaze only broke my heart further and in turn I felt my eyes water. After a moment or two, I worked up the courage to look back at him. He was still looking at me like he never moved his eyes. I couldn’t seem to register the lyrics until Yunho began to sing again, his voice drawing me in as it always did.

“You've disappeared without a trace

Left an unsuspecting guise

Love, I need you to know

I’ve been losing far more than sleep

Over those deep chocolate eyes.”

As the song and the show ended and everyone in the crowd cheered, I felt a rush of emotions run through me. Thrilled that they’d become so successful, proud of them for putting on such an amazing show, and hurt because I could still see a sliver of sadness in Yunho’s eyes.

I hurt him.

Yunho then reluctantly said his goodbyes to the audience along with the rest of the members. His jaw tightened as he walked over to Wooyoung, whispering something in his ear before walking off stage. Feeling like I was set in a trance, I grabbed my Tyra’s arm and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before following him. I completely ignored her questions and concerns about where I was going, dead set on talking to him again even though I didn’t have a damn idea what I was going to say.

Somehow, through the giant maze of people, I was able to spot Yunho leaving through the backstage. Instinctively I ran towards him, still having no plan in mind. I only stopped when a purple-headed man appeared before me.

“Y/n!” He smiled, bringing me into a hug, “I missed you so much!” He pulled back from me, “We all did.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung came from behind me, both wearing sad, kind smiles. They looked healthy and happy, which was all I could’ve asked for them.

“How’ve you been, girl?” Seonghwa cocked his head, genuinely curious.

I hesitated, not sure if I should tell them the truth. But at the end of the day, they were still my friends. “Not...great. If I’m being honest. I was kinda hoping I could talk to Yunho...if I could.”

They all shared a look I couldn’t understand.

Wooyoung spoke up, “We’re having a party at a friend’s house after this, you should come.”

I was surprised, still not fully understanding the situation.

San frowned, “I think it would be good for you two to talk. He didn’t tell us too much about what happened, but I’m sure you had a good reason. You were always so good to all of us.”

“I can text you the address if you’d like,” Wooyoung added, “You still have the same number?”

I nodded.

“Okay, good. We need to get back but we’ll see you there. Take care, okay?”

“I will. Thanks guys.”

San pulled me in for another hug, “Of course.”

They waved as we parted ways and for the first time that night, I felt hopeful. I spotted Shang and Tyra and ran up to them, no doubt a smile on my face as I asked, “Soo...you guys up for a party?”

I ditched my friends the moment we arrived, barely even sparing a word with Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung once they nudged me in the direction of Yunho. I didn’t try to think too much about it, knowing I’d explain it all to them later.

He was standing in an empty bedroom, looking at the floor and sipping out of a red cup which likely contained liquor. When his eyes met mine a rush of memories flooded back to me. The first time we kissed, the first time he confessed he loved me, the first time he saw me cry.

The first time I broke his heart.

His eyes raised to mine, his face stoic, “Enjoy the show?”

My mouth opened and closed, not having any clue what to say to him, “Yunho I-”

“I know why you did it.” He said suddenly, “A week after you left me Lucy showed up to one of our shows and tried to convince me it was all a coincidence. Said that I could finally be with her. When I didn’t buy it she finally gave in and told me she convinced you we were better apart. So naturally I called the cops and they arrested her for breaking the restraining order, thank god.” He shook his head, looking disgusted, “You know I never wanted us to be apart. My question to you,” he took a step further towards me, “is why did you do it? Why did you end us?”

When I couldn’t seem to respond he talked once more, “You could’ve told me what she was trying to do. We could’ve worked it out together.” He looked more disappointed and heartbroken rather than angry.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yunho.” I bit my tongue as I fought back tears, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I-I’m just-” I sobbed, “Lucy told me she would kill you if I kept dating you.”

Yunho’s mouth shut and eyes widened, clearly missing that bit of information. I took it as my cue to continue “I don’t know why she did it, but it’s probably because we were happy.”

More tears fell down my face and it became harder for me to talk, but I owed him the truth. I had to tell him the truth. I looked up at him but because of my tears my vision was blurred. Yunho’s hands were tightening into fists as he looked away from me.

“I couldn’t tell you because I had to protect you so I had to make you hate me and I’m just so sorry.” I fell to the ground, my body feeling as heavy as my heart.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to meet his own, “I’m sorry.” A tear streamed down his cheek, heavy remorse in his eyes, “God she’s fucking awful.”

A laugh got caught in my throat, “Yeah she is.”

He set his cup down somewhere along the way a his hands cupped my face, finally whispering the words I’d only heard in dreams, “I still love you so fucking much. I never stopped loving you. I never even tried to stop because I know I couldn’t.”

I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard, unintentionally knocking him to the floor. He met my lips with just as much fire, groaning when I unconsciously bucked my hips into his, all my sexual frustration still pent up.

“I missed you so fucking much.” Yunho growled, obviously feeling needy too but deciding against it as he wrapped his arms around my waist, speaking in between kisses, “I missed your cute laugh. I missed your lips. I missed your fucking awful jokes. I missed the way you’d look at me whenever you told me you loved me. I missed your gorgeous body and your smile. I missed your moans and the way you arched your back when we’d have sex. I missed how alive you made me feel.” He pulled back to look at me, “My life had no purpose without you.”

I took a breath, tears once more falling, “Mine didn’t either.” It wasn’t anything profound or emotional, but it was the truth. It didn’t.

Gently picking me up, he placed me on the bed. His eyes were raw, as emotional as they could ever be. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me as if I would disappear at any minute.

“Stay with me. Come with us on the rest of the tour. If you can’t take a vacation we’ll hire you as an assistant. If you can’t do that we’ll make some other kind of accommodation. Just stay, please. Please be mine again.”

I looked at the man in front of me. The tough-looking, six-foot tall, tattooed, strong man that could probably scare the shit out of anyone. Yet here he was, bearing his heart to me and being as vulnerable as a person could be.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I’ve only ever been yours.”

The morning was bright, lighting directly hitting my eyes. I cursed myself for not closing the blinds the night before and blinked off my sleep when I heard a familiar pleasant sound.

Jumping down from the bed I put on the new fluffy bathrobe my lover bought me. I followed Yunho’s voice out to my porch, realizing I was listening to a new song of his. The man was strumming a guitar, a beautiful melody falling from his lips. When he noticed me, he smiled and continued to sing.

“I’m in a vivid yellow mood

You’re my muse, my home and room

And now that I have you again

What could I ever fear?

Oh do me a favor, dear

And inscribe your name on my sleeve

Let me keep it there forever

Because you’re better than any daydream.”

#ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez smut #atzinc #fluff #ateez yunho #rockstar au #yunho au

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morkleemelon · 4 years ago

Text

off the ice || chapter 2: heading in

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, sports au, college au

warnings: swearing

word count: 7k

"And we can see here in the figure that the data currently suggests-"

Your pen flies across the notebook page, desperately trying to capture everything your economics professor said in multicolor vigor. Jotting down the figure frantically, your eyes dart back and forth between the powerpoint screen and your paper, high ponytail bouncing up and down from the motion.

Being on scholarship means that you can never let your grades fall past a certain point or else they'd give the money to someone else. As harsh as it is, without the financial aid, you would not be able to continue to go to school. One of the only things that motivates you to work harder than your sleeping peers, sometimes, is the looming fear of becoming a jobless dropout, never able to achieve your dreams.

In a lot of ways, not having money is already bad enough, but the thought of not even being able to earn it in the future is even worse.

"Does anyone know how this company should manage production costs?," your professor asks the crowd of tired students.

You immediately shoot your hand in the air. You know it. This answer was in the textbook reading last night it's-

"Yes" Your professor points behind you.

You slowly set your hand down, disappointed, turning around to see who could've raised their hand before you did.

"They should modernize their marketing efforts with more affordable tools and focus on reducing supply costs," the boy answers expertly.

That's exactly what I was going to say.

Examining his face a little more, something about him seems a little familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on it. Looking around at who he was sitting with, you begin to piece it together.

"He must be one of the Lee's if he's sitting between Ten and Jeno" you ponder to yourself, taking one final look at the boy, "is he... Haechan?". Thinking back to last spring, one of your teammates had a huge crush on the one called 'Haechan'. She always gushed about his fluffy brown hair, handsome face, and how he asked to borrow her biology notes once. You weren't exactly well versed with the university's popular people and honestly, the fact that this school has an 'F4' called "the Lees" is pretty funny to you.

This boy's hair is blonde, though, brushed down into a fringe and slightly messy from, you're assuming, taking off the hood of his sweatshirt before class. Glancing down, you take notice of the mess of white bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

Right, they just had a hockey game. He doesn't have brown hair so this must be-

"That's exactly right, Mark. Nicely done" the professor praises.

Mark. You note the name to yourself, turning back to the board as the professor continues with the lecture.

"Dude she's looking at you," Ten whisper-yells to his younger friend, nudging him sharply in the ribs.

Mark doesn't dare look down at you yet, already feeling his cheeks grow warmer with each passing second. He feels your gaze pull away from him and finally frees the breath he was previously holding captive. Shoving back at the senior boy, his gaze flutters back to you like it usually does during this class, however much to his strong denial.

You always sit in the first row, colored pens and highlighters arranged neatly upon your favorite desk.

Mark watches the way your hair bobs back and forth as you move your head with keen eyes. The delicate gold glint of a necklace clasp at the nape of your neck fascinates the junior boy's attention more than the mundane lecture ever could.

Spotting the slight smile on the older boy's face and the direction of his gaze, Jeno laughs quietly to himself, happy that something interesting is finally happening during the boring lesson. Leaning over behind Mark's back, he gives Ten a silent high five.

"You're a simp" Jeno whispers in Mark's ear, eager to provoke him. Mark slaps the blue-haired boy's face away.

"Fuck off," Mark whispers harshly back as Jeno and Ten laugh to themselves in the lecture hall. He habitually glances back to your focused form. And this is nothing short of how class usually goes for them: Mark fawns over you 'secretly' whilst you haven't the slightest clue. On either side, his friends tease him endlessly for it.

"Yuna and I are planning something for you guys," Ten persists.

Mark's eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the older's ominous words. The professor's voice drones on in the background as his attention shifts to Ten.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it, man". Ten smirks, smacking a firm hand on the confused boy's shoulder.

"Don't do anything weird," Mark warns, recalling the time when the senior had planned on starting a fist fight outside of your dorm building last semester in hopes to gain your attention and provide an excuse for Mark to talk to you. Although the thought was there, no it wasn't.

The hour ticks by and exhausted students groan in relief as the professor wraps up the stale lesson on fundamental economics. A mass shuffle of notebook pages flipping closed and backpacks zipping up fills the hall as students make their way out, eager to do anything but be there.

The Lee's always gather for lunch at this time at the basketball courts, attracting an impressive crowd of envious guys and adoring girls at the sidelines. Although the place is fairly beaten down and otherwise unimpressive, the Lee's choose to be there which consequently deems the courts the coolest lunch spot on campus.

Putting his things away into his trusty black Jansport bag, Mark gets ready to head down to the courts to meet up with Haechan like they always do until he feels a hand unexpectedly grip his left shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Some people are gonna join us for lunch today," Ten discloses casually, keeping his gaze forward as the line of students in front of them slowly file their way out of the crowded room.

"Oh, who?" Mark questions. It's not like it's rare for other people come hang out with them, in fact, it's almost always the case. But the fact that Ten is specifically telling him beforehand feels suspicious. Another strong hand grips his other shoulder as Jeno's navy blue hair comes into view.

"Don't worry about it man. You got meal points left for this week? Lend me some," the younger boy expertly diverts.

"Yeah..."

"Let's hurry though, Haechan is probably there waiting already. I told the brat to get food for us early today". Ten ushers Mark forward and pushes his way through the herd of people.

"Aight," Mark sighs in confused defeat, picking up his pace to keep up with the senior. There's definitely something weird going on, but he doesn't have the energy to pry further.

Then again, has he ever lived a day where his friends aren't doing some sort of weird shit?

"Thank you, professor," you smile and bow politely.

"Thank you, y/n, enjoy the rest of your day," the older man smiles back, waving you off as he packs up his lecture notes. It's small things like this that you always make sure to do to make others' lives a little better.

After all, the best thing to give-better than any monetary gift- is kindness. Right?

Your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your frayed denim shorts and you reach to check the notification.

Der sum hoez in this houz:

Yuna: guys!! Let's grab lunch somewhere new today! :DD

Hope: yassss ;););)

You: oh why? The caf has chicken nuggets today :(

This is definitely suspicious -you, Yuna, and your other friends, Lisa and Hope, always ate together at the round table in the university's better dining hall nicknamed "the caf". It's been your unbroken tradition since freshman year and the lunch lady at the caf even likes you enough to give you extra servings sometimes.

Yuna: we can still have the nuggets but Ten knows a cool place we can sit! He says he already got the food so we don't have to pay today ;)

Free food?

Your inner Mr.Krabs reveals himself as you perk immediately at the mention of her boyfriend paying for lunch. Neither guilt nor modesty had time to catch up as your thumbs rush to type a speedy reply.

You: I'm there. Where at?

Yuna: I'm coming to your classroom rn! We can walk together

Lisa: Hope and I are coming from bio :) excited

You: lol why does everyone know but me

You: is it gonna be weird with us third wheeling you yuna?

You: if y'all start kissy kissy touchy touchy I might puke just saying

Yuna: HAHAHA XD

Yuna: don't worry some of ten's friends might be there too

Oh. To be honest, you're caught off guard at your best friend's last message. Ten has been over to your shared dorm a few times and you've exchanged enough awkward greetings to call him an acquaintance at least. But generally, his friend group and yours stay separate.

Not that there is any actual beef there, but, no pun intended, nobody's tried to break the ice yet.

Closing the group chat as you reach the entrance of the economics building, you hold a hand up to block the glaring rays of summer sun from your eyes. The sudden brightness harshly contrasts the musty dark of the lecture hall, making you squint in discomfort.

"Y/n!" a familiar voice calls out. A flash of platinum blonde hair and Chanel perfume filled your senses as Yuna throws your smaller body into a crushing, sweaty hug.

"EWw!" you yelp, shoving the taller girl away from you half-playfully, catching the attention of a few concerned passer-bys.

You nod your head at them in a shy apology.

Yuna, seriously.

The guilty party laughs, the musical sound travelling through the humid air like a refreshing breeze. Your best friend sticks out her elbow for you to link your arm through.

Eyeing her with short-lived contempt, your lips break into a smile as you slip your forearm around hers, unable to be actually mad at your best friend.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"You'll see. It's Ten's spot"

"Hi-his spot?!" You stop in your tracks, wondering why you were going to eat where Ten dealt weed.

Since when did he deal weed though?

"Not that kind of spot!," Yuna cries out, smacking a manicured hand over the top of her forehead as to not ruin her perfect foundation, "he's not like that!".

"Right good," you scoff.

The summer heat swelters as Yuna leads you down campus towards the sports center. It's early September and Seoul is notoriously hot.

Ice cream vendors with big, striped umbrellas litter the streets, calling out for business from sweaty pedestrians who crave a moment of sweet, cold relief. The sky tints a beautiful shade of blue with fluffy wisps of white clouds dotting its never-ending canvas. No matter how hot the weather is, the day is undeniably beautiful.

You don't ask Yuna more about where you're headed, accepting that your best friend likes to be spontaneous and that her boyfriend was paying for your food. This is more than enough for you to follow her down the sketchy alleyway shortcut to the basketball courts. Sometimes you wonder if you'd be really easy to kidnap...

The alley opens up to reveal a worn-out basketball court planted in the middle of a grassy area. Looking around, you noticed there are quite a few people there, most of them unfamiliar to you.

They scatter across the grass in groups, eating and chatting casually amongst their friends atop their patterned picnic blankets. You catch the gaze of a group of girls sitting at the edge of the court; they eye you up and down, taking you aback with their lack of subtlety.

Breaking the awkward eye-contact, you suddenly feel very out of place.

"Hey!" Yuna calls out, slipping her arm out of yours to wave at a group of people sitting at the other side of the court from the judgmental girls.

Her hand slips into yours, snapping you out of your uncomfortable dilemma, pulling you towards the group she waved to. A big willow tree stretches towards the sky and casts a precious spot of shade over the area. Immediately, you spot Hope and Lisa as they wave to you and you let out a breath of relief.

At least I'm not alone, maybe I won't be so awkward now.

You recognize Ten's face and you give him a smile and nod of acknowledgement. Scanning over the rest of the group carefully, you faintly recognize the other boys sitting under the tree.

The boy with the blue hair and the fitted white tee- that's Jeno.

Fluffy brown hair-definitely Haechan.

Your eyes flit to the next boy and you're taken aback when he's already staring at you. His ashy blonde fringe hair, almost grey, seems dearly familiar. His eyes widen before quickly looking away.

He's part of the Lee's... bandaged hands and that hair- that's Mark, the dude who stole your answer from earlier.

The little devil on your shoulder whispers to hold a small grudge. The little angel on the other argues that it was never your question and you shouldn't be so petty. Right, kindness is the best virtue. You will let it go.

You and Yuna reach the edge of their picnic blanket and your best friend immediately goes to sit by Ten who doesn't hesitate to pull her hips smoothly into his lap.

You look away in embarrassment. Good for her for finding love, but by golly are you painfully single.

Eyeing the space on the picnic blanket, Hope and Lisa are almost strategically sitting at the end chatting with Jeno so there is no reasonable way you could sit next to them. Setting down your bag awkwardly, you debate where you should sit, silently cursing at Hope and Lisa for not leaving a space for you. Maybe coming here was a mistake because you feel kind of left out-

"Oh, here," a small voice lets out. You look up to see Mark getting up and moving his stuff out of the way and clearing a space for you next to him.

"Ah, thank you!" You smile, kneeling down to sit in the empty space.

Thank God.

Glancing at his face, a blush even Maybelline would envy rests on his cheeks as his gaze remains glued to the food in his hands.

The first thing you notice is how handsome he is up close. You didn't get a good look at him in the lecture hall, but his face is a perfect mix of feminine and masculine beauty. His eyes are soft and round, but his jawline sharp and angled. The most chiseled cheekbones you've ever seen are handsomely defined under the mosaic of shadows and light created by the branches of the willow tree. A slight, shy smile graced his delicate, pink lips.

He's super cute. I take back everything I thought in lecture.

"Hey, welcome!," a sudden high-pitched voice rips your attention away from ogling the blonde boy. Turning your face, you see Haechan on your other side eagerly holding out a hand for you to shake. You take his hand and he shakes it vigorously, "I'm Haechan nice to meet you! What's your name?".

"I'm y/n," you reply with a smile. He's really outgoing, huh.

"Y/n what year are you?"

"Oh I'm a sophomore this year"

"Ayyy! Jeno and I are sophomores too," the friendly brunette slaps the other boy on the arm, "say hi, Jeno".

"Hey, I'm Jeno". He gives a heart-fluttering eye-smile and you could hear hushed gasps and coos ensue from the onlooking girls across the court.

"Hi, y/n," you respond shyly.

Dang, these guys are all so good-looking.

You always hear about the 'Lees' and their 'godly' visuals, but you never truly paid attention. Yet now that you're sitting with them at their cool-people-only hangout spot, you have no choice but to admit how exactly spot-on those descriptions were.

"Here, y/n" Haechan hands you a paper tray full of chicken nuggets.

"Nice! Thank you," you cheer, taking the food perhaps a little too excitedly. Working out and training nearly everyday means you're inevitably hungry most of the time. Not to mention, your stomach always rumbles at the sight of your all-time favorite food.

Digging into the free food reward, you turn back to Mark who hasn't said anything to you yet.

"What's your name?" you ask. Technically, you already know it, but you don't really know a better way to start a conversation.

Visibly surprised, Mark chokes on his chicken.

You let out a single note of laughter at his unexpected coughing before slapping a hand over your mouth to stop yourself.

"Are you okay?" you ask stupidly.

"Bruh," Haechan teases with a smirk, amused at his best friend's embarrassment.

Mark nods quickly with a hand covering his mouth as he continues coughing. Unsure of what to do, you reach over to pat him on the back firmly.

"Here, dude". Jeno tosses Mark a filled water bottle, the older boy accepting it gratefully, gulping down the water like his life depends on it (which it... actually does).

Gasping in relief as he sets the bottle down, Mark looks back at you with flushed cheeks and wet lips. You realize your hand is still on his back and you quickly snatch your hand away, suddenly flustered by the contact.

"I'm Mark," he finally answers, voice hoarse from the ordeal.

"Hi Mark, I'm y/n" you giggle.

He looks absolutely hilarious with water dribbling down his chin and cheeks as red as fire. There is something intensely endearing about him as he looks down, front teeth biting down on his bottom lip in embarrassment.

"What year are you?," you continue.

"Uh-I'm a Junior"

"Oh nice! What do you study?"

"Uh-business and sports management"

"Wow! Wait you're In Econ31 right?"

"Yeah I am," Mark smiles.

"I thought I recognized you! I'm in that class too," you exclaim. Usually, you aren't terribly sociable with people you just met, but there's something about the softness of his voice that makes him easy to talk to. That and the way he's just choked on a chicken nugget in front of you at your first meeting- you have little to nothing to lose.

"Oh yeah I-I've seen you around sometimes"

"Yeah we've seen you around sometimes," Ten calls out, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Yuna laughs and hits his chest in warning.

"Shut up!" Mark grabs a nugget from his tray and chucks it at the older boy. Like a slow-motion scene in a movie, Ten catches the piece of chicken between his teeth and flashes a wink back at the flustered junior.

You burst out in laughter at the interaction, slapping a hand onto your knee at the dumbfounded look on Mark's face.

Mark feels his heart clench at the sound of your bright laughter filling the air. You gasp with glee, one hand slapping your knee repeatedly and the other gripping your fork. Truth be told, he is freaking out inside. And this is not how he imagined you would meet.

All thoughts about Ten abandoned, a wide smile spreads back onto his face as his eyes scan across your laughing form. You sport a casual outfit consisting of a grey t-shirt and denim shorts like you usually do. A simple gold chain hangs from your neck, tucked away under the collar of your shirt. Up close, Mark feels even more drawn to you than ever before.

Beautiful as ever.

"I-I can't breathe," you wheeze, "what just happened?"

"My talent," Ten states, moving his arms from around Yuna's waist to hold them up in a 'well duh' shrug.

"Nah bro, it was a good throw from me," Mark cuts in, holding up a hand to stop the gloating boy.

"Nah bro, it was a good catch from me," Ten sasses back, moving Yuna off his lap to kneel up. You meet Yuna's eyes and you both hold back laughter at the ridiculous argument.

"Nah bro" Mark moves onto his knees as well.

"Nah bro's," Haechan suddenly interjects, "It was me. I have telepathy and I moved the chicken". Haechan promptly stands up and does a body wave, posing with a finger gun pointed over the slope of his nose to his forehead.

You laugh silently between the three boys who are suddenly all standing as they argue over who was responsible for the nugget trick. You had just met these guys a few minutes ago, but you're more confused and intrigued at them than you've ever been with anyone.

Look at you go, making new friends and everything!

"Guys..." Jeno tries, but his low voice isn't nearly loud enough to be heard over the chaos.

The boys point accusing fingers at each other like in a Renaissance painting. You scooch your way over to the other girls to get out of their way, bringing your food with you.

"You're dating..." You gesture your fork at Ten who was is caught in a three-way head lock with Mark and Haechan.

"Yeah". Yuna's face remains expressionless as she nonchalantly pops another piece of chicken into her mouth. After dating Ten for almost five months now, she is well aware of what the expression 'boys will be boys' really means.

"Are they always like this?" Hope asks, bewildered. Lisa just laughs on the side, enjoying the spontaneous fight more than she should. Jeno gives up, laying down to stare at the sky and wonder why his friends are like this.

Click

Your ears perk at strange noises coming from behind you. Turning around, you notice that several of the girls you saw earlier are now pulling large, fancy cameras out of their book bags. Baffled, you watch incredulously as they shamelessly snap photos of the tussling, oblivious boys.

"What the heck?," you gawk. You haven't been here but twenty minutes and it's already one surprise after the other.

"Tell me about it. Those weirdos are these guys' fans, the 'Lovelees' as they call themselves," Yuna explains, "You would not believe how crazy they can get. Remember when I had to put all my socials on private a few months ago? It's because they found out I was dating Ten".

"Right, I remember that" you nod your head sympathetically. Your eyes move between the unsuspecting boys and the audacious crowd of girls. Maybe you haven't known them for long, but the Lees seem like a regular group of guys. Admittedly, they are above average in the visual department (and in the strange department), but the existence of the Lovelees is really unnerving. Is it just you?

One particular girl at the forefront stares you down intently. Her hair is a mousy brown with two striking streaks of bright red down her bangs in a distasteful take on E-girl style hair. Too-light foundation is packed onto her skin and you winced internally at the severe creasing by her nose. Black eyebrows not matching her hair, her fake eyelashes bat at you threateningly.

"What's up with her?". You are genuinely confused. Why does she look like she wants to murder you?

"She's so scary," Hope's eyebrows knit in worry.

"Yeah, what's with her? She's staring at y/n," Lisa suddenly adds, attention turning to the concerning conversation.

"That's Hillary, the club president or something," Yuna confirms with a shudder, "she's super psycho about Mark. Definitely stay away from her".

"Gotcha... but why is she looking at me like that? Is it just me?"

Hillary's creepy stare never leaves your face and you feel chills run down your spine like a thousand invisible spiders. Generally speaking, you sometimes shy from even ordering food over the phone. Being under her flaming gaze makes you want to shrivel up like a raisin.

If someone could write a story about Seoul University campus life, you'd for sure be a background character. Attracting negative attention to yourself for no reason is surely a new feeling and unequivocally uncomfortable... perhaps because there is any attention on you at all?

"Well for one," Yuna smiles, poking an accusing finger into your side, "you seem to be getting along with these guys pretty well. Especially Mark". The blonde wiggles her perfectly threaded brows at you. Flustered, you shove a nugget in her mouth before she could say more.

"What are you even talking about, we literally just met". You fight to keep your voice steady and expression unaffected, but alas you can't stop the heat from spreading onto your unwilling cheeks. Admittedly, it's been a while since you've gone out with a guy. More honestly, you haven't really dated anyone since you came to campus last year. So needless to say, your single self is a little bit flustered to be thrown into the notion that you even have a chance to be with a super popular, charming guy like Mark.

You shake your head to clear the ridiculous thoughts.

Let's not err on the side of desperation today.

Peering back at the crazy fangirl who you now know as Hillary, you're relieved to find her piercing gaze has shifted from boring holes in your skull to her cell phone and she types away at lightning speed.

"I have a feeling that he likes you, y/n," Yuna presses. Hope and Lisa giggle and nod in agreement, exchanging knowing glances at each other.

You don't have ample time to ponder more as your attention is ripped away by the fighting boys. They've shifted from the shade of the willow tree to the basketball court, disregarding all onlookers and fighting like their lives depended on it.

"Let's go. Rooftop. Right now!" Haechan screeches, taking a leap at Ten while Mark struggles to hold him back.

"Fight me here, bro," Ten taunts, "we all know I'm built different". The sass in his voice gives Haechan the strength to break away from Mark's grasp and tackle the senior boy. All eyes glue to the two boys rolling around on the hot pavement, screaming.

"Yuna, can you-" Jeno starts, eyes closed as he lay on the blanket listening to his friends beat each other up.

"Yeah," Yuna gives the tired boy an apologetic pat on the knee. "Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul".

Her boyfriend's entire body immediately freezes at the sound of his full name. Letting Haechan go from his chokehold, Ten scurries back over to his spot on the picnic blanket to kneel by an unamused Yuna like a scolded dog. "I'm sorry".

You suppress another laugh. This... this is what the cool kids are like? You were really nervous for nothing. Mark shuffles back next to you, supporting a limping Haechan who insists he's fine.

"Sorry girls. They're not... actually no, they are usually like this," Jeno apologizes, "Hope we didn't scare you away".

"No, actually. I think you guys are really... funny. It's cool how comfortable you all are". You smile at the hockey players. Weird as they may be, you don't feel uncomfortable.

"She thinks you're cool!" Haechan cries, slapping Mark on the back.

"Shut up!" Mark smacks the back of the younger's head, ready for another fight already.

"But don't you guys think it's weird we haven't met earlier? We always see the hockey team around our practices but I think this is our first time officially talking," Hope suddenly points out the elephant in the room.

"Yeah I guess that's true," Haechan ponders, "to be honest, we didn't think you guys liked us very much... or let me rephrase that- we were kinda scared to approach you".

"YOU were scared to approach US," Lisa exclaims in shock, "did you forget that you four are, like, the most popular guys on campus or what?".

The four boys look amongst each other blankly. "No, but we thought...," Haechan starts.

"... that figure skaters hated hockey players," Mark finishes. Silent glances are exchanged between all parties as this new information is revealed.

At the sheer awkwardness of the situation, you decide to interrupt the silence with light laughter. "Why would we hate you?"

"You- agh," Haechan's reasoning is cut off by a sharp jab to the ribs from Mark. No way is he going to let the blabbermouth sophomore spoil that they stalked your Facebook last year and found your post.

"I mean you all seem really cool and," Mark saves, looking at you, "I'm really glad we got to meet you today. But we were just... intimidated before".

You raise an eyebrow and your eyes meet Yuna's, Hope's, and Lisa's who shared similar expressions.

"Babe, I'm intimidating?" Yuna asks her boyfriend, peering into his eyes. Ten promptly places a hand at the back of her neck and brings her in for a deep kiss. Everyone in the group groans in disapproval and you hope the sour expression on your face isn't too obvious. Why, Ten. Why.

"Uh.. ok then," you divert, "I was never a fan of hockey itself, to be frank. The sport, not the team. And maybe I've been annoyed at you guys for hogging the ice sometimes, but I've never ever hated you! Don't worry haha".

"Bro what?!" Haechan cries, "hockey is the greatest sport of all time! It's all about strategy, speed, strength, and skills. If anything, figure skating doesn't have a point".

You gasp in full-offense. Sure, you just gave your honest opinion on their sport and it was only fair that they give theirs, but that one burns. Before you can make your counterargument, the boy next to you beats you to it.

Tapping the back of his hand to Haechan's arm, Mark's next words made your heart skip a beat: "dude, you don't know what you're talking about," he turned to look into your eyes, "it's beautiful".

Mark's eyes are a deep brown color, you notice, and they sparkle gold in the light streaming past the branches of the willow tree. Softly, they peer into yours, bringing with them a rare kindness that pinches at your chest.

"Thank you" you smile at him. Is your face always this warm?

"Okayyy," Jeno finally opts to sit up, "now that we've determined that we don't hate each other and we're all cool, are we good to be friends?". A chorus of "Heck yeah"'s and "duh"'s filled the picnic area and your heart swells with happiness. You look back at Mark and smiled again.

New friends

"You should come eat with us here more often," Mark suggests to you, warm gaze making your heart strain for the hundredth time that afternoon. What is happening? "All of you should," he corrects, looking away shyly.

"Yeah we're here everyday," Ten adds. Looking down to Yuna who had laid her head in his lap, he stroked her hair lovingly. "You should come hang out with us whenever".

"I'd like that," you grin.

"Let's make a group chat. Everyone gimme your numbers," Haechan declares.

While the brunette went around collecting numbers, you chatted with Mark, wanting to get to know him more. You quickly find that he's so very endearing, blushing and fiddling with the bandages on his fingers at your every word. His words are kind and he listens to you thoughtfully when you speak. Talking to him is so easy, surprisingly easy, and you feel the conversation unfold out effortlessly. You hardly notice as the minutes of your lunch break tick to an end.

"That's crazy! There was this one time that-" the jarring sound of your phone alarm cuts you off. Scrambling for your phone, you tap on the screen desperately to shut it off.

"Sorry guys," you apologize, "Lisa, oh my goodness, it's time for us to go to Frankie's".

Lisa checks her own watch and gasps, "Oh gosh! We gotta go guys".

"Who's Frankie?" Mark questions, eyes slightly crestfallen.

"No," you laugh while picking up your bag, "Frankie's. The diner down the street next to the lake. We work there".

Haechan, Ten, and Jeno crack up silently at their sensitive friend.

"It was nice meeting you all!" you exclaim, "It was nice meeting you, Mark".

"Great meeting you, y/n. Hope to see you around," he waves back at you.

Bidding their goodbyes, you and Lisa make your way down the alley to her parked car.

"Y/n don't you think Mark is super into you?" Lisa says excitedly once the others are out of earshot.

"What are you saying!?" you proclaim, looking back to make sure the Lovelees aren't following you. Seeing the coast is clear, you consider your friend's accusation. So much has happened in the last 2 hours than in your year and a month at college, or your entire life honestly.

You walked into the alley with no guy friends and are leaving with four. Is it greedy to say that Mark really does stand out to you and you might be starting to like him, or are you just like every other girl who likes him too? The last thing you want is to be like Hillary.

"He's probably just friendly to everyone," you decide.

"No way, y/n, you good in the head? This dude only looking at you the whole time," Lisa retorts.

You shake your head in denial but thinking back, it could be true.

There it is again. That nervous, light feeling in your chest.

Oh, God. What if I like him?

Mark flops down on his bed, still not down from the high that he's been on all day. No, not that kind of high. Smile plastered on his face, he runs his fingers through his freshly washed hair, recounting your conversations from earlier.

"Dude, you look so stupid," Jeno walks into their shared room, shirtless from just getting out of the shower. A simple white towel wrapped around his lean torso is the only thing censoring the spectacular scene. Messing his hair with a second towel, he chucks the wet fabric at Mark's face.

"Fuck off," Mark swings it back at the sophomore. This year, he chose to live in a suit with the rest of the guys to save some money. Him and Jeno shared a room while Ten and Haechan occupied the other. It's undeniably small and only has one bathroom, but he is grateful he at least doesn't have to room with Haechan anymore.

Mark's phone buzzes with a notification on his nightstand. Propping himself up with his elbow, he checks to see who it's from.

1 new message from unknown

Mark sighs. If it's these crazy girls again he's going to get really annoyed. Today was a really good day and the last thing he wants is another stranger asking him to father her children.

Maybe: Yuna?: hey mark, it's Yuna. I got your number from the group chat! If you're not too busy I'd love to talk to you about a few things

Oh crap.

Suddenly nervous, Mark scrambles to sit up properly.

"Text from your new girlfriend?," Jeno taunts unknowingly.

"No, dickhead, it's Yuna," Mark rebuts, thinking hard about a good, casual reply.

"Oh, shit," Jeno states, taken aback. The sophomore swaggers onto his own bed, now sporting a pair of grey sweatpants and a fitted white t-shirt. The bare minimum makes him look like a poster boy every magazine photographer would clamber for. The man could put all models out of work if he had the heart for it. Fortunately, he only has the heart for hockey, video games, and pizza.

Mark: Hey Yuna! What's up?

Yuna: Hey :) nothing much! Not to freak you out, but I know all about your crush on y/n from Ten

Mark: ahaha... yeah I figured

Yuna: ok, so as her best friend and someone who cares about her a lot I just wanna put a few things out there

Yuna: is typing...

Mark watched as the three dots of the impending message taunted him. What could she be talking about? What if you have a boyfriend and Yuna's telling you to back off?

Yuna: if you're going to get close with her, you gotta make sure you keep her safe from those crazy fangirls. Y/N is a shy and sensitive girl she'll definitely take the hate to heart and if Hillary and those other crazy bitches come after her, I won't let you live

Hillary? Mark wracks his brain for any memory of a girl with that name. That girl from calc? No, that's Helen. Hillary...

An image of a mousy girl with red bangs comes into his mind. Ah yes, that's Hillary. She sends him love tweets and gave him chocolates for Valentine's Day.

Mark: I barely know Hillary and I'm pretty sure I've told her I'm not into her, but i'll make sure she knows. Yuna I'm serious about y/n

Yuna: as you should be! She's a real diamond in the rough and she's never confident in herself. All she does is work and study and practice. She never does anything for herself but she never complains either. Also, I don't wanna butt in too much, but I gotta you ask one thing

Mark: yeah ask away!

Yuna: y/n says today is the first time she met you but Ten says you've "been simping for like a year". Add it up for me?

Mark: It's kind of hard to explain... it like... do you believe in love at first sight?

Yuna: HA!!! You're too cute omg

Mark: It's like that but I never had the chance to talk to her... it never seemed right idk

Yuna: boy

Yuna: I had to force y/n to go to your game with me and Ten had to bribe Haechan to set up the picnic today early

Yuna: not to mention we made Hope and Jeno sit together even though they're both awkward just so y/n would have to sit next to you. you better make ur fucking move now

Mark curls his fingers into his blow-dried hair, letting out a low, stressed groan. He's gonna owe the guys big time.

Mark: I really appreciate it! :)))

Yuna: oh and one more thing

Mark: yeah?

Yuna: If you hurt her, I will gouge out your eyeballs and stick them up your ass and while you cry, I'll force feed you your own severed balls until you choke and die. Got it? :D

Holy fuck.

Mark: understood

Yuna: Yay!!! Approved :) good night mark! Nice getting to know you today!

Mark: same here. Night!

Mark's thumbs shake as he types out his final message. So this is what your friends are like, huh? It's such a contrast to your easy-going attitude. A smile spreads across his lips at the thought of you again.

Stretching up to shut off the lamp on his night stand, Mark tucks himself into bed. It's finally happening. You're here. You're right within his grasp. And he wants nothing more than to give you everything you need.

Mark contemplates Yuna's messages as he lay there in the dark; she said you aren't confident in yourself. This comes as a surprise to him. You're so beautiful, smart, kind, funny, and talented, the last thing he expected was that you didn't know it. You exude put-togetherness and wear elegance like a favorite sweater.

His eyes squeeze shut as Mark replays the first night he saw you in his mind. The image is engraved in his brain as he must have revisited that unintentional performance a thousand times.

This whole time, he never got to know you, but today he dipped his hand in the water. And he wanted so much more, to dive in completely and surround himself with you. All this time, he's only been on the sidelines.

I want her so bad

It's time to stop waiting around and get in the game. He's going to talk to you, walk you to class, make you feel special. So much time has already been wasted due to his own fears and misunderstandings. If it's confidence you need, it's confidence he will give you.

Wait for me, y/n, I'm gonna do it right this time

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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

Text

juliaswinterwriting challenge, pt. 2

1. “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” with Mathew Barzal

a/n: finally! my second of two submissions for @wondershawns winter writing challenge. 6.6K. also features Mat’s boyfriend Beau lol.

summary: Mat has been falling for Beau’s cousin Genevieve since the day he met her. the main thing standing in his way? her.

warnings: swearing. alcohol. a smattering of angst. mentions of sex (not explicit). a healthy dose of fluff.

_____

Mat couldn’t have heard his best friend correctly. Convinced of that, he shook his head and tried to snap himself out of his stupor.

“Wait, Beau… what?”

“Yeah, Genevieve’s moving in with me,” Beau repeated casually, slapping a puck into the back of the net. “Finally convinced her. She just broke up with that idiot and she’s gonna go to NYU.”

The guys were on the ice at the practice facility for the first time since arriving back in New York after a long summer. They were conducting an informal skate to get their feet under them again, but most of the time had been spent simply catching up with one another — shooting pucks, yes, but also shooting the breeze. Mat had enjoyed the laidback nature of the on-ice session thus far, but he felt an undeniable jolt of electricity in his every nerve when Beau said that name — the one that elicited a thousand different feelings all at once.

Genevieve.

The girl who shared her cousin Beau’s big blue eyes and endless charm, but had a sassy wit and tender heart all of her own. The girl who was more like his teammate’s sister than a more distant relative. The girl who Mat had fallen for the very first day he met her, when Beau invited him to his family home in Quebec for a visit, now three summers ago. The girl who he’d been hopelessly, helplessly entranced by ever since.

Suddenly, a rubber disc was flying at Mat’s feet, the product of Marty dishing him a pass from the opposite side of the zone, expecting Mat to tap it into the goal as they’d already done a dozen times that afternoon. Instead, Mat let it whiz past him, only giving the puck so much as a glance when it bounced off the half-wall.

“Barzy!” Marty yelled from the far boards with a surprised chuckle, smacking his blade on the ice repeatedly. “Fuckin’ pay attention, kid!”

“You hockey much?” Beau teased, furrowing his brows at his teammate’s blank expression. Beau thought to himself that it looked as though Mat had just seen a ghost. “What’s’a matter with you?”

Mat turned to see Marty, Beau, Ebs, and Anders all looking at him as if he were a creature from a different planet. He cleared his throat and hunched once more overtop his skates, gliding in a tight circle before he faced them again.

“Nothin’,” he said nonchalantly, with a sniff. He put his stick to the ice and readied himself, trying to push Beau’s revelation to the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand. “Let’s go again.”

“Wait,” Marty said, putting a gloved hand up to halt the skating men around him. “I forgot. Isn’t Barzy, like, in love with that girl?”

Beau slowly turned his head toward Mat, who swallowed hard, trying to will his cheeks not to redden. Anders and Ebs chuckled, hands resting atop the knobs of their sticks.

“Shut up, Marty,” Mat nearly pleaded, anxiously tapping his stick on the ice. “Just... let’s go again. Come on.”

_____

In the three years since they’d first met, the math broke down pretty simply: Genevieve had had a boyfriend for all of those three years, until a month ago; Mat had kissed her exactly once on the forehead after putting her drunk ass to bed during a weekend visit to Beau’s; and they had made exactly zero progress toward becoming what Mat had always wanted them to be. Together.

One more number was soon added to the equation, not long after she moved to the city — the number one. Sponsored by the number of times they’d now had sex.

Genevieve’s twenty-first birthday fell right after she started at NYU as a junior transfer, when the Isles boys had just started camp. After a night at the club celebrating her, in a vodka-induced haze, with Tito’s attention wrapped up in a pretty blonde, Mat and Genevieve snuck away from the group, into an Uber, and off to his apartment in Brooklyn.

Mat realized immediately that he’d never felt a high like the one he did when she was kissing him, and he chased it all night long. He lost himself in her in every way as they melded together between his sheets.

He truly thought that her birthday was going to be the start of something between them. Something real. More than just a childish crush, stolen glances, and timid, blushing stares.

Which is why his heart broke when he awoke the next morning, after their passionate night gave way to dawn and the effects of the alcohol had faded, to hear Genevieve speaking quietly on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I went home with someone... No, you don’t know him. Just a guy from class.”

Mat felt a tightness in his throat and tried to swallow it.

“Shut up, Anth,” Genevieve said with a lighthearted groan.

Shit. Of course it was Beau.

“Brunch? Uh... yeah. Yeah, I can do brunch. I just have to come back to your place and change first... No, no, I’ll just grab an Uber. Yes, I’m sure.”

She was leaving. She was trying to sneak out of his place, while he was presumably still asleep. Despite that, pathetic as he felt for it, he didn’t want her to go. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Okay, see you then. Bye.” Genevieve ran a hand through her dark locks and blew out a long breath.

“Who was that?” Mat muttered in a sleepy voice, making Genevieve jump. Despite trying to ignore it, he couldn’t help but notice the way she pulled his sheets tighter around her naked body at the realization that he was, indeed, awake. His chest clenched at the sight. Genevieve cleared her throat, stalling, before answering.

“That was Anth,” she said, tossing her phone on the bed in front of her. Mat watched the way her bare spine hunched as she sighed and then looked at him over her freckled shoulder. It took everything in Mat not to lean over and pepper her soft skin with warm kisses.

“He wants to go to brunch. The three of us. He’s gonna text you and invite you. He doesn’t know I’m here...” she spoke, wringing her fingers.

“Okay,” Mat said quietly, sitting up on an elbow. “Well, I’ll drive you back to his place—“

“No, no. I’m just gonna order an Uber,” she said hastily, followed by another long sigh. He wrinkled his brow, confused.

“We can’t tell him, Mat,” Genevieve said sadly, tossing him a forlorn glance, her fingers pressing into her temple. “We just... I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart broke a bit right then. In his mind, they would admit the truth about last night to Beau this morning, he would chirp them about it endlessly but be happy that they were happy, and they would all live happily ever after.

Evidently, Genevieve had different plans.

“So I’m gonna go, and then you can meet us at the cafe. Okay?” she asked, turning to face him straight on, seemingly so that he saw as little of her nude form as possible, despite having seen all of it last night.

Mat nodded, swallowing again. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about the Uber. He was referencing something much more consequential than her ride home.

Genevieve pressed her lips together, looking down at her lap before meeting his eyes again. She nodded slowly.

“I just... I don’t think this is a good idea, Maty. I just got out of a relationship, and I don’t know how Anth would feel about...” She gestured between the two of them. Mat tried not to flinch, though he nearly did just that.

He nodded. Genevieve noted the pain in his eyes and averted her own to avoid being crushed by the knowledge that she had singlehandedly inflicted it upon him. Eventually, he found his voice again.

“Okay. Fine. I understand, I guess. I think you know how I feel about you, especially now, but it’s... it’s whatever you wanna do, G,” Mat said.

Genevieve blinked at him a few times, and for a fleeting moment as she opened her mouth, he thought she might change her mind.

His hopes crashed down in front of him as she shifted uncomfortably under the covers and requested, “Can you maybe just... look away while I get dressed?”

That time, Mat flinched.

_____

Mat couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw who was calling as he made his way home from the rink after practice on a snowy Monday nearly three months later, in early December. He pressed the green button on his dash display, said hello, and her fluttering voice filled his car.

“Mat… hi! Are you busy?”

Even if he were, Mat would’ve lied.

“No, no, not at all. What’s going on, G? How are you?” he asked as he switched lanes, fingers suddenly drumming on the steering wheel as nervous energy coursed through him.

Since the morning after they’d hooked up, the most they had communicated directly was texting half a dozen or so times, with Genevieve congratulating Mat on a good game or Mat asking if she knew where Beau was. Occasionally they’d bump into each other after a game, the ones she could actually make it to given her insane class schedule, or at the bar, and they’d both hug awkwardly and inevitably blush like schoolchildren. Mat missed her like hell, and he gently reminded her of that each time they touched base, but he respected her decision, even if he wasn’t fully convinced it was the right one.

Little did he know, Genevieve wasn’t fully convinced, either, but she willed herself to stand her ground, despite the sway he still held over her, without him even realizing it.

“I’m good. I’m good. Listen, um, I know this probably seems out of the blue, but… would you wanna meet up for coffee?” he heard her ask.

Mat’s brows shot up at her inquiry. He had long ago written off any chance at spending alone time with her and was caught off guard by her invitation.

“Sure,” Mat answered, though somewhat hesitantly. “I’d love to, you know that.”

She must have heard the surprise in his voice because she followed up with, “It’s just, I really miss you… and besides, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Mat couldn’t keep the smug expression from his face. “Oh yeah? Other than just how much you miss me?” he asked arrogantly. He could practically hear Genevieve roll her eyes as she huffed into the phone.

“Just shut up and come here, you egomaniac,” she giggled. “I’m at my usual spot.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in fifteen. See you then. And, G?”

“Uh huh?”

A smile twitched at Mat’s lips as he replied.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, sincerity dripping from his words.

He heard the smile in her voice when she remarked, “I’m glad you answered. See you soon.”

_____

When Mat walked into the coffee shop minutes later, Genevieve was holed up at a corner table, notebooks and loose papers alike strung before her in a mass of organized chaos. She touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip and squinted at her laptop screen through her thick, tortoise-shell framed glasses.

Mat had never seen her wearing glasses before. Though he didn’t even think such a feat was possible, he fell a little more in love with her and became a little more tortured by her right then and there.

He approached her slowly so as not to startle her. As he came nearer, she didn’t even look up, deep in concentration as she typed. When she finally glanced away from her screen and toward a notebook across the table from her, Mat playfully crouched into her line of vision, tilting his chin upward as he waited for her to spot him.

Eventually, her eyes met his and immediately glimmered. She flushed slightly, putting her hand to her forehead with a groan.

“Oh, god, Maty, how long have you been standing there?” Genevieve asked, an apology in her tone.

Mat smiled and tried not to dwell on the way his pulse quickened when his nickname fell from her lips. “Long enough to observe that you might need your glasses prescription changed. You’re not supposed to squint at your screen like that, G,” he warned, approaching her and scanning the multitude of documents before her. “What is all this?” he asked, letting his gaze drift back to hers.

“It’s for my event this weekend. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Genevieve responded tentatively. “But first, coffee,” she said, reaching for her wallet tucked inside her bookbag.

Mat reached for her hand, pushing it away and shaking his head.

“No, c’mon,” he insisted. “Let me. What can I get you?”

Genevieve looked at their touching fingers as he slowly pulled his away, then she gave him that killer half-grin of hers and breathed a sigh, giving into him since she knew trying to protest was useless.

“How ‘bout a peppermint tea? I think I’m overcaffeinated at this point anyway so I should probably take it easy on the coffee,” she admitted with a chuckle as she tucked some hair behind her ear. Mat nodded.

“Smart girl. Tea coming right up,” he promised with a squeeze of her shoulder. Genevieve thanked him and watched as he sauntered to the counter to stand in line.

His hair was longer, and she thought it made him look even more handsome, if that was even imaginable. He caught her ogling at him as he turned the corner to wait for his order, and she simply pursed her lips into a tight smirk and tried to refocus on her notes. He tried to refocus on anything but her. They both were clumsy in their attempts.

When he returned, he placed a large paper cup before her and she wrapped her hands around it with an appreciative hum.

“You’re the best,” Genevieve praised. He waved her off as he took a sip of his cappuccino.

“So why have I been summoned here, G?” Mat then asked, teasing in his question.

Genevieve bit at her full bottom lip and Mat tried to force his eyes not to linger there as she snapped her notebook shut and readjusted herself in her chair, clearing her throat.

“Okay, so you know I’m taking this event planning class this semester? It’s part of my major. And our final project is to plan a large-scale event,” she began, and he nodded as he sipped at his coffee, amused by her bubbly mannerisms as she spoke. “Well, so… a friend of mine in class kind of accidentally let slip that I’m Anthony’s cousin, and it turns out that the prof is friends with some Isles execs. She suggested that I plan a gala to benefit the team children’s foundation, and obviously since the professor fed me that idea, I couldn’t really say no. Especially since it’s 50 percent of my final grade, and obviously because it’s for such a great cause.” Mat nodded again, already seeing where this was going, but not exactly minding it.

“So since you guys don’t play this Saturday night, Anth had originally told me that he would go and kinda be the face of the team for me, but he backed out this morning,” Genevieve said, playing absentmindedly with her fingers in her lap. Mat was getting ready to take another swig when she added that last little tidbit, and he narrowed his eyes at her as he lowered his cup.

“What do you mean he backed out? What the hell else does he have to do?” Mat didn’t try to hide his annoyance — Beau had practically begged this poor girl to come and live with him and go to school in New York, and now he was jeopardizing her academic future?

“I don’t know,” Genevieve shrugged. “He said some girl he’s been talking to bought him tickets to the Nets game on Saturday night and he—“

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me...” Mat spat, then noticed the disappointment in her features, and immediately softened. “So, what can I do to help?” he asked, deciding that he would deal with the Beau issue later.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, and drew a deep breath as she summoned the courage to make her request.

“I was wondering if... if you’d go with me?” she eventually mumbled.

Mat was certain he had misheard, just like that day months ago on the ice. He licked his bottom lip quickly and sat back in his chair.

“Say again?” he deadpanned.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me,” Genevieve spoke, clearer and faster this time. “I know I don’t even deserve to ask you a favor like that, and you probably already have plans anyway, and I—“

“G, stop,” Mat interrupted dryly.

“It’s not like you’re my second choice or anything,” Genevieve continued, talking with her hands just like Beau did when he got flustered. “I wanted to ask you — really, I did. Trust me. It’s just… I was afraid Anth would be weird so—“

“G, stop,” Mat laughed, his voice firmer this time as his hand moved to rest on her knee. “I don’t need an explanation. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d be honored.”

Genevieve finally exhaled, throwing her hands over her face in sheer excitement and shaking her head back and forth.

“Ugh, Mathew Barzal, I could kiss you right now!” she exclaimed before she could pay a second thought to her words. She covered her mouth then, eyes bugging behind her glasses. Mat couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he quipped softly as he raised his coffee to his lips once more, smirking pompously at Genevieve as she breathed a laugh.

As she launched into the details of the event — what he should wear, what she would need from him, when he could pick her up — he found himself spacing. No detail she shared much mattered to him — not really. It didn’t affect his decision. No matter what this would cost him, literally or figuratively, he was all in.

All in on the gala, all in on Genevieve. All in.

She was letting him in, however little, and he planned to take full advantage of the opportunity.

Mat insisted on giving Genevieve a ride to Beau’s apartment after they’d finished their drinks, convincing her that she needed to take a break from working and get a change of scenery. Surprisingly, she complied. He realized as she sat in his passenger seat just how much he had missed the way he felt in her presence. The world seemed to be in full color only when Genevieve was by his side.

Sadly, the drive was a short one, and soon Genevieve was hurriedly pulling her bookbag into her lap as Mat pulled over to the curb near the building’s entrance. Preparing for her to jump out of the car without giving him a second look, Mat was surprised when he felt her fingertips grasp his jaw. She placed a lingering kiss to his cheek, closer to his mouth than could be called chaste, and smoothed her thumb across the stubble on his chin.

“I really have to go, even though I don’t want to, but thanks a million, Maty,” Genevieve said, beaming at him as she pulled the straps of her bag onto her shoulders. “I can’t wait for this weekend. Bye.”

With that, she was scampering off, throwing him one last smile before disappearing through the doorway.

With a pursed exhale, Mat rested his forehead against the steering wheel and tried to talk himself down from the clusterfuck his brain had just launched into at her actions.

_____

The week dragged on for Mat. When Saturday finally arrived, he took far longer than usual to get ready, even FaceTiming his sister for her recommendations on the best tie and shoe combination to match his navy suit.

When Liana furrowed her eyebrows, curious why he cared so much about what he wore to what seemed to her to be a fairly routine team event, Mat knew what was coming and braced for it as she opened her mouth.

“Is this like a date or something—“

“Goodbye, Liana. Thank you,” Mat said curtly, cutting her off and quickly ending the call. Of course, it rang again immediately, but Mat chose to ignore it and tucked the device in his pocket as he gave himself one last glance in the mirror.

When the phone rang yet again, he huffed, prepared to answer and then immediately hang up on his dear, annoying baby sister, when he noticed it wasn’t Liana this time.

Stepping into his closet to choose an overcoat, he smiled and tapped the green button.

“Don’t tell me you’re cancelling on me now, G,” Mat said, half in jest, half in masked terror. “I just got dressed.”

To his dismay, Genevieve sounded panicked on the other end of the line.

“Uh, no, quite the opposite, actually,” she said nervously. “I’m kind of — okay, well, completely — freaking out over here, and I was wondering if you could maybe come over early and convince me not to call my professor and tell her I’m sick so I don’t have to see what a complete disaster this night turns out to be?”

Mat had pulled on a coat and flicked off the lights in his closet while she was talking, and he shifted the phone to his other ear to respond once she stopped rambling.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly. “I’m leaving now. Sit tight. I’ll be right there, okay?”

Mat heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “You’re the best, Maty,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

His smile widened — he was always happy to play the role of knight in shining armor, but it meant more to him to be able to play it for Genevieve. His chest puffed with each word of her gratitude.

“You’re welcome, love,” he said before he realized the pet name that fell from his lips. But he couldn’t regret it, refused to even try, so he bid her goodbye for now and headed for the parking garage to ride away on his white stallion — er, Cadillac.

Ten minutes later — after navigating a route that should have taken at least fifteen — he was on her doorstep, the dozen red roses he had bought that morning in hand. Mat tried to act as though he wasn’t surprised to find her still in a set of Beau’s Isles sweats, donning her glasses, with her makeup half-finished and her hair not yet fixed. He glanced at the clock above her head that indicated only about forty minutes until they needed to leave the apartment, but decided to ignore that minor detail.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mat said charmingly, extending the flowers to her. “These are for you. For good luck.”

Genevieve’s lips turned up momentarily into a grin, then folded into a frown, and she looked as though she may burst into tears at any moment. Forcing his way in the door, Mat set the bouquet on the entry table and gathered her into his chest, resting a hand on the back of her head and rubbing small circles on her back with the other.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “What’s goin’ on, G? Talk to me, baby.” Oh, shit. Another pet name. He really had to stop doing that.

Genevieve seemed unaffected by the term, though, and drew a shaking breath before squeezing his waist tightly and stepping away.

“Everything! This event is gonna crash and burn and it’s all my fault,” she cried, flinging her hands skyward for dramatic effect.

“What do you mean?” Mat inquired. “And while we talk, why don’t we go to your room so you can keep getting ready?” he added, placing a gentle hand to her hip. Thankfully, she nodded, despite heaving a sigh. As he turned them down the hall, she let her swirling thoughts erupt.

“The caterer called an hour ago and said they didn’t put in an order big enough for tonight so they’re gonna have to supplement the food with basically whatever they can find,” Genevieve began as they entered her room, motioning for Mat to take a seat on her meticulously made bed, which felt far more intimate than he was prepared for, not that he was complaining. She sat on the vanity bench nearby and hurriedly applied eyeshadow to her lids, prattling all the while. As she spoke, Mat glanced down at the dress laid out on the foot of the bed on a hanger, and he swore he forgot his own name for a moment as he gaped at it blankly.

“And I specifically ordered peonies, not poppies. Like how the fuck does a florist mess that up! I just—“

“Wait, sorry to interrupt, but this is what you’re wearing?” Mat choked out, sliding the shiny fabric between his first two fingers and thumb. Genevieve nodded, hurriedly fastening on a pearl cluster earring smack dab in the midst of her blush and bronzer routine.

“Yeah, Anthony insisted on taking me shopping and made me buy the most expensive goddamn dress in the store for some reason,” she grumbled. Mat made a mental note to thank Beau profusely. “I told him I couldn’t accept it but — wait, why? You hate it, don’t you?”

Mat’s eyes bugged at her question before he swallowed hard, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, it’s just... you’re gonna look so unfair,” he chuckled. Genevieve gave him a disbelieving look.

“Hardly,” she disagreed, apparently not noticing how gone he was at the moment. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter what I wear because it’s going to be an absolute shit show.”

She threw a fluffy brush into her makeup caddy with a clatter, and Mat approached where she sat fussing over herself anxiously in the mirror. She couldn’t help but notice the way her breath caught in her throat when his long fingers came to rest on her shoulders, stretching to her collarbone as he gazed at her intensely in their reflection. She felt herself relax under his touch.

“I know you’ve convinced yourself of that,” Mat began, his voice low, slow, sincere. “And that probably nothing I say will change your mind. But even if the food is wrong and the flowers are wrong and it doesn’t look exactly how you pictured it, it’s still gonna be a success. Because you made it happen. And you’re the most organized, most dedicated, hardest-working person I know,” he said as she finished applying her lipstick and sat up straight with a long, calming breath.

“And you’re the sweetest person I know,” she admitted airily. Mat beamed, squeezing her trap muscles. “Thank you,” she added, her hand finding his and bringing it to her lips, their eyes never straying from one another’s in the mirror until she stood up to face him.

He threw her hair over her shoulders and gawked at the perfect placement of her makeup, however much she had rushed its application.

“Makeup,” Mat spoke, drawing a pretend v-shape in thin air. “Check. One thing at a time.”

She snickered a bit, her hands ghosting across his suit coat for a moment, enchanted, before she snapped back to the task at hand.

“Okay, I have to go curl my hair, and then get dressed. And then, I’m ready,” she promised as Mat nodded and slowly returned to his seat on her bed. As she pulled a pair of strappy heels from underneath the bedskirt, he smiled down at her so fondly, and she realized she wouldn’t mind having him sitting right here more often.

Certainly wouldn’t mind.

She tossed Mat a wink as she picked up the dress, too, and hustled into the bathroom, suddenly feeling much more confident than she had without his presence — his reassurance.

Fifteen minutes later, after chattering with Mat through the door while taming her hair, she pulled on the dress and smoothed her hands over the skirt of it, tugged on her heels, and pulled open the door.

Mat stopped abruptly in the middle of a story about razzing her cousin at practice and stood to his feet, neither moving an inch.

Finally, Genevieve sighed and motioned toward her attire.

“So?” she spoke simply. “Acceptable?”

Mat scoffed, literally scoffed, and repeated, “Acceptable?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and couldn’t help the boyish giggle he let out. “More than acceptable, G. You look... wow. Incredible. So incredible.”

Genevieve could admit to herself that she was pleased with his reaction — in fact, she couldn’t quite seem to detach her eyes from his face as his stare roamed her figure. She leaned against the doorpost and smirked.

“Remember what I said earlier this week? About how I could just kiss you right now?” she asked mischievously. He nodded slowly, eyes still studying the way her dress pulled tight in exactly the right places, then finding their way back to hers. “Kinda feeling that way again right now,” she added.

He exhaled sharply, standing up straighter, as she took a couple of paces toward him.

“Is that so?” he teased. She nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek. Mat hummed in anticipation as she came ever closer. “You sure about that?” he asked firmly, extending his arms with his palms out toward her, trying his damnedest to keep her at a distance.

She only nodded again, a gleam in her eye, and paused just a couple of feet from him, waiting for his approval.

“Take another step looking like that and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Mat warned, giving her one final out.

A small laugh passed through Genevieve’s nose, and she looked down at their feet as she daringly moved forward.

“I’m okay with that,” she whispered as she looked back to his face. Mat only quirked his brow in response.

“I think it’s time I focus less on pushing you away, and more on just…” Genevieve tenderly wrapped her arms around Mat’s neck. “Just finally letting things happen the way they’re supposed to,” she spoke.

Mat froze for a moment, then broke into an enormous grin. “Yeah?” he asked in awe.

She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded, driving him insane. He pressed her lower back into his body as she assured, “Yeah. This is what I want.”

Mat barely let her speak that last word before capturing her lips in a searing kiss — all the nerves and anxiety about avoiding this melting away in a heartbeat as she moaned softly into his mouth, eliciting a smile from him against her skin.

“You’re beautiful, G,” Mat whispered when he finally came up for air. “You know that?” Genevieve blushed and tried to hide her face in Mat’s chest, but with a roll of his eyes, he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and angled her face toward his own.

“No, none of that,” he said. “I’ve waited this long to be with you, G. Just let me look at you and tell you how gorgeous you are.”

Mat felt the warmth of her cheeks as he caressed them with the backs of his hands, losing himself in her criminally blue eyes.

“You are something else, Maty,” she said, letting her hands rest on his taut stomach as she leaned into him. “Now we really have to go, or we’re gonna be late.” With one last kiss pressed against his lips, Genevieve spun away from him, grabbed the pearl clutch from her bed, and tossed him a particularly wicked glance over her shoulder, laughing at his dumbfounded expression as she drifted out of the room.

And as he watched her walk away from him, hips swaying beneath the satin of her dress...

Mat knew he had no choice but to follow wherever she led.

_____

Whether she was aware of it or not, the girl knew how to command a room.

As Mat watched Genevieve engage the many high-profile sponsors and potential donors in the ballroom, he found himself thinking that he really didn’t even need to be here. She had this in the bag, and he was just arm candy for the night. And he realized he didn’t mind a bit.

Even so, he couldn’t help but swell with pride when she regularly turned away from conversations throughout the evening, searching the many faces in the crowd until she found his, her shoulders relaxing and her eyes flashing with affection when she finally did.

Finally, Mat sensed that the peace he had long ago found in her, she now felt in him. Nothing could ever make him happier than that.

Despite having different food and flowers than what Genevieve had planned, the event was a smashing success. She learned from her professor near the end of the gala that they had raised a quarter of a million dollars for the Islanders Children’s Foundation in this single night — a figure which made her nearly choke on her champagne and subsequently back Mat into a coat closet to reveal privately. Only he was more excited about the triumph than she, clutching excitedly at her sides as he pulled her to himself for a fiery kiss and gleefully congratulated her, both of them trying to stay as quiet as possible to remain undetected. When they regained their composure, they walked regally arm in arm back into the ballroom to say their thank you’s and goodbyes.

As they waited outside for the valet, Mat held Genevieve from behind, his arms encircling her waist under the grand stone archways of the old building. In her ear, he whispered her praises, pressing a kiss to her temple or jaw between each adjective as they awaited their ride.

“Smart. Beautiful. Capable. Stunning. Perfect. Worthy. Mine.”

That last one prompted her to spin in his arms, unashamed of who might see, and grasp his face for a firm kiss.

“Yours,” she whispered back dreamily.

_____

Soon they were back at her apartment building, rushing down the hall hand in hand, fully prepared to take advantage of Beau’s night on the town. Mat was mouthing hungrily at the back of Genevieve’s neck, from one side to the other, as she squealed and clumsily unlocked the door — a feat which took approximately five times as long as it normally did, considering the distraction hanging off of her, snaking its long arms around her torso as she finally tumbled through the doorway. Mat held onto her hips with a laugh to prevent her from falling on her face onto the tile beneath them, pulling her upward to resume their makeout until…

“Don’t you two look cute.”

Beau’s voice rang from the couch, startling both Mat and Genevieve as she pushed him away to create some distance between them. Mat cleared his throat as he unceremoniously gathered his footing beneath him. They both stood motionless in the entryway for several moments before Genevieve blinked at the basketball game playing on the television.

“Wait. What the hell, Anth… you’re watching the Nets game on TV? What happened to your date?” Genevieve asked as she took a few steps into the living room, tossing her clutch onto the couch so that she could put both hands on her hips and aim as much attitude as possible at her cousin.

“Yeah, I lied about that. The Nets are in Boston tonight, you geniuses,” Anthony informed them casually, taking the last swig from his beer bottle and placing it on the coffee table as he leaned forward.

“What do you mean, you lied? What the fuck, man?” Mat asked, incredulous.

“I did it on purpose!” Anthony bellowed, before the two gaped at him. “You two goons haven’t figured it out on your own by now, so I figured if I ditched, forced you into some alone time, bought G a pretty dress, maybe you’d see yourselves for what you really are. Hopelessly, disgustingly in love with each other. And apparently, it worked.”

Mat ran a hand slowly through his hair, tugging on his locks with a quiet laugh. Genevieve stood still, a hand suspended in mid-air, and whispered, “You planned this?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Of course I planned this,” he confirmed. “You really think I would just bail on you at the last minute for some girl? No! I knew you’d ask Mat, and I knew he would come to your rescue, and I knew you guys would have a great night together. Win, win, win.” Anthony rested his back against the couch once more, propping his feet up on the coffee table and folding his hands behind his head as he waggled his eyebrows. “I’m good, huh?” he remarked.

Mat took four quick strides toward his best friend and made a show of grabbing Anthony’s face and pressing a lip-smacking kiss to his forehead, which Anthony giggled over and wiped away, shaking his head.

“You’re my hero, man,” Mat spoke as he returned to Genevieve’s side and tucked her beneath his arm. Timidly, Genevieve asked Anthony, “You mean you’re not mad?”

Anthony’s big eyes grew even wider. “Mad?! My best friend and practically my sister are finally making each other happy. I’d be crazy to be mad! Or I’d be the Grinch. And I’m not the Grinch!” he assured as he pointed towards them.

Genevieve beamed, walking his way and placing a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his arm.

“Merci beaucoup,” she whispered when she pulled back from his face, only to see that he was smiling from ear to ear. He gave her a solemn nod.

Genevieve extended a hand toward Mat which he accepted gladly, then she turned back to her cousin.

“Well, on that note, since your plan was such a success, and so was my event, Mat and I are gonna go celebrate,” she informed him with a grin. Anthony chuckled and lifted his beer bottle in their direction.

“Cheers to that,” he said. “I’ll just turn up the volume.”

Mat and Genevieve laughed and said goodnight before making their way down the hall. Mat couldn’t close the door fast enough before spinning her and pinning her against it as she smirked, her form melting into his as he kissed her fiercely. For several minutes they stayed there as one, with their parting lips and their breathing the only sounds in the room. Soon, Mat pulled back, both his hands holding Genevieve’s face as he searched her eyes.

“Promise me this is really what you want, G. Promise me you won’t push me away again,” he implored, his voice sounding needier than it ever had. Genevieve felt the stab at her gut upon remembering once more that she’d really almost fucked this up.

She sifted her fingers through his long, coal black hair of his and looked into his green-flecked eyes, which begged her for reassurance. Mat swallowed thickly as she cupped his strong jaw.

“I promise I won’t, Mathew,” she whispered. “I won’t. I can’t. I need you.”

With that, she squeezed his cheeks between her fingers and smothered his lips with her own. Mat tasted the sweet champagne on her skin and moaned.

“Mine,” he said again, gruffly this time, into her ear as he trailed hot kisses down her jaw.

“Yours,” she repeated breathlessly.

#juliaswinterwriting #my writing #mathew barzal #mat barzal #barzal #nhl #hockey #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal writing #mat barzal writing #hockey writing #nhl writing #anthony beauvillier

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beeexx · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: Winter

4 tattoos on TK’s body, 4 stories set over each of the 4 season. Carlos and TK grow closer.

Read part one and two or the whole thing on my ao3 .

---------- When Carlos was younger he used to love Christmas, loved the lights, the food, the music and spending time with his family. He still likes all that but ever since becoming a police officer and seeing how absolutely crackers everyone gets over Christmas he has reassessed that notion thoroughly and decided that he only enjoys Christmas when he can completely shut off the outside world and escape the insane nonsens, then, yes Christmas is lovely. Having been single for the majority of his time on the force always makes him the first pick for working on the 25th, and this year is no different. So, he sees TK on the 24th before Gwyenth flies in and it’s sweet and fun but he feels TK might want to spend it alone with him next year, the seriousness of their relationship starting to require that they create some traditions of their own, and the 25th on a full 24 hour shift and then the 26th he goes home to his parents.

New Years comes along, it’s calm for him, he’s working the next day and he drinks sparkling water and coke for the whole evening they spend at Grace and Judd with the 126, Carlos has become an unofficial member of. He’s grown close with them all since starting dating TK and it’s not unusual for him to get his own invitation to stuff, sometimes even without TK. Mateo sends him texts asking dating advice, Paul will ask questions about cooking and recipes and he and Marjan have taken up playing padel together. So he’s definitely part of the group for sure and it’s lovely being surrounded by people who know each other so well that there are almost more alcohol free options than there are actual alcohol, food from all sorts of different countries and traditions and a warm atmosphere around as they watch the fireworks together out on the deck, celebrating the coming of a new year.

He drives TK home to Owen pretty early and TK gives him sad puppy dog eyes before he drags him into the back of the car for some light fooling around and very heated kissing that would definitely not have been approved of at Judd and Grace’s party before he regretfully has to leave if he wants to be able to work at all come morning. The choice of staying over is so tempting but Carlos knows he would struggle too much the next day when he would be forced to leave a very hot and cute and snuggly boyfriend while he has to work. So he kisses the love of his life passionately on the street, so much so that he looks completely dazed and confused when Carlos pulls away and tells him he loves him and that he promises to make it up to him the next time they are off together and TK, with his stern face on, makes him promise that he will.

But Carlos has been working a lot this winter, he knows, it's a habit, leftover from a long time of being single that he’s had a hard time shaking. He doesn’t like winter, it’s the only time of the year he’s usually always felt lonely, with all the holidays coming up being forced into social gatherings where questions are always asked whether he’s single or not and it used to grate endlessly on his nerves. And if he’s sometimes taken shifts on the days after or on the actual days to avoid the questions, well no one has to know.

Only this year he’s been so distracted that he’s forgotten he’s already accepted all these shifts almost a year before, before he was officially together with TK the way they are now, and the unfortunate result of this is that they have have become completely unmatched in their schedules which makes TK look more and more sad every time he has to leave him to go to work. It’s making Carlos’ sad too but because he’s worked so much recently, he’s made sure to switch his shifts around with a colleague so he’ll get three days off in a row, matching them all up with TK’s, and that’s what he thinks about every time he feels guilty about it.

But growing close with TK’s friends also means that he gets 15 texts in a row from Mateo, and five calls that have him promising to come to his party the Friday after the new year, because that’s his life now. And of course he’s late, because nothing ever goes his way and he’s barely had the time to change and shower when at home, basically just throwing on black jeans and a white t-shirt hoping that it will do and that he won’t be completely underdressed for the occasion. It turns out that isn’t the actual issue.

The issue is that apparently TK has had the time to choose clothes that make him look absolutely sinfully hot in his ridiculously tight jeans and pink button down that has one too many buttons left undone, teasing skin, his chain as always around his neck, part of his flower tattoo on exhibition for too many to see. Not that Carlos is the jealous type, but his boyfriend is attractive as hell and he’s definitely not the only one who has noticed that.

Which introduces the other issue.

“Oh my god babe, I’m so relieved you are here. I feel old.” TK declares absolutely horrified by having spent the majority of the evening in company with people who are probably old enough to drink because Carlos is not looking forward to arresting anyone, but with the majority of them being under 25, maybe?

But he agrees, everyone is so millennial here, like too millennial even for his tastes that they are all feeling much more like zoomers than anything, yes Carlos spends time on the internet. And he does have a younger sister that age and has spent too much time on calls where he’s been forced to talk to people under 20 feeling very much like they are speaking a completely different language to him. But being here Carlos realises that Mateo is actually a few years younger than him which has never even crossed his mind before, but standing here in Mateo’s new apartment he just moved into it’s becoming clear that Carlos with his 27 years is actually old in comparison to this.

Marjan looks to be having the time of her life though, looking slick and cool in her completely black awesome outfit, having a group of people wrapped around her fingers as they seem to hang onto every word, oohing and aaahing at the right places while Paul is playing on the ps5, him, Marjan and TK got Mateo for Christmas slaying everyone who dares playing against him. TK looks absolutely appaled at having been forced into the company of these people for the past few hours that he’s already been here, and it’s hilarious because sometimes riling TK up and annoying him is a little fun, but Carlos is the best thank you very much and he asks if TK wants to go have sex on Mateo’s bed in retaliation and TK’s eyes grow mischevous by the very idea.

“Yes, I love that.” He’s much happier already and he’s positively glowing, his slight addiction to misbehaving becoming evidently clear. Marjan stops both of them, wrapping her arms around their shoulders harshly.

“No screwing in probie’s bed.” She chides and TK’s mood sours immediately.

“Marjan, come on, look at this. I’m too old to be here, I want to have some fun.”

“Perfect, we’re playing truth or dare, you’ll love it.”

TK groans.

But they are forced into the game nonetheless because Paul joins too and when Paul and Marjan’s plans align they are a goddamn unstoppable force and there really isn’t anything you can do to escape it.

So, forced into a game Carlos hasn't played since probably high school is either going to become absolutely disastrous or the most fun he’s had in ages, he hasn’t made up his mind yet. Mateo joins as well and a bunch of other people Carlos is never going to learn the names of join together in the kitchen, TK being well TK sitting on top of the kitchen island, cross legged and leaning against Carlos who is sitting on one of the bar stools, his arms securely around him, sipping a really shitty beer someone gave him before the game started.

When a girl called Emily gets dared to call an ex of hers to tell him the rules of Monopoly even TK can’t help but laugh because she absolutely kills it, finishing the call with all of them applauding her because that was some Boss as shit to do, even Carlos respects it.

Lots of the people around them keep shooting lingering glances at him and TK, not judgeful ones, Carlos would probably fake threaten to arrest them for prejudice and discrimination if he felt any hostility, no, they are curious, kind, a little intruding maybe, but it’s done out of an eagerness, maybe at seeing a gay couple so openly happy and relaxed together that they can’t help themselves. Or maybe they’re checking them out and Carlos will accept that as a compliment without it getting to his head. When he leans forward and kisses the back of TK’s head it's obvious it’s become too much for the people around them and a guy called Fred bursts at the seams.

“TK.” He says. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth I guess.” He says nonchalantly.

“Who tops and who bottoms in the relationship?”

There’s a collective groan in the room and Fred blushes, obviously unaware of his mistake but seems to have enough awareness at least to realise he’s done something stupid. Carlos is just waiting for TK to give the guy a totally inappropriate answer exposing their sex life to a bunch of people who can only dream of ever having as amazing sex as they are having, yeah it’s not nice bragging, but doing it inside of his head where no one can hear isn’t hurting anyone, but it’s not TK who answers, it’s Mateo, beating TK to it.

“That’s a stupid question Fred, rooted in outdated gender roles while it also reinforces false heteronormative ideas of feminintiy and masculinty onto sex. The idea that you have to be dominant or submissive just because you like to give or receive is just ridiculous, because even you should be aware that depending on the mood, the time or whatever you’re not going to just enjoy one single thing, and if you do, then you’ve clearly only had terrible sex.”

The room grows silent, Carlos' eyes widening as TK holds back his laughter.

“Yeah that, what Mateo said Fred.” TK forces out, coughs to hide how he’s close to absolutely losing it while the room erupts into loud cheering and whistling making both Mateo and Fred blush.

“Daaaamn probie, who would have thought you actually listen when we tell you stuff huh? Good job.” Marjan says while Paul looks like a proud father, absolutely beaming. TK takes pity on Fred who is looking a little dejected.

“Just find yourself a partner that you feel safe and loved by and do some experimenting to see what you like, but make sure to set boundaries too, and you’ll be good to go. Also if you’re straight, respect women, they are the best thing we have.” Fred looks a little relieved as someone beside him pulls him into a rough friendly hug and they move on.

The game continues and soon everyone has forgotten Fred’s little mistake and the game grows louder and rowdier, Paul drawing the short straw of getting dared to smell everyone’s feet in the room and rank them.

“Carlos, truth or dare.” These kids are too thrifty for Carlos, he aint getting dared into something stupid.

“Truth.” He settles for. Lily’s eyes land on TK and she smiles sweetly.

“Favourite and least favorite thing about TK.” TK turns his head and grins as Carlos sticks his tongue out.

“Least favorite thing is his messiness and proneness to forgetful spells, you see kids turning 27 can make you a bit forgetful, don't forget to be kind to him tonight.” It sets the whole room off into roaring laughter and Carlos chuckles a little pleased at his own joke as TK glares without any heat, huffs and rolls his eyes. He makes sure to wrap his arms tighter around him.

“My favourite thing about him is his unwavering strength, his big heart and even though he’s struggled and failed and failed again he never gives up on trying to do better. It’s simple, I love him, so it’s easy to love every part of him.”

Loud AAAWWWWs erupts all over the room and TK’s flush is high on his cheeks as he leans towards Carlos, gently kissing him. A girl sends Lily a look of fondness, both him and TK catching it before she averts her eyes.

“I love you.” TK whispers, only meant for Carlos, and his heart swells from hearing the words for the 100th time. It never seizes to stop taking the breath out of him.

The game continues, someone making the mistake of daring Marjan to eat a spoon of hot sauce, her face not moving an inch as she swallows it without trouble, Mateo to tell everyone who he’d like to make out with in the room then being dared to do it by Carlos because she looks to be a little interested in Mateo too, while Carlos gets dared to behave like the person to his right which has the whole room dying and the acting lessons he took in high school coming in handy. It doesn’t surprise Carlos that this happens because these people are relentless but then, TK gets dared to give him a goddamn lap dance, the attention bouncing off TK in waves, his elation and cheekiness making him look way too hot while Carlos tries very hard to think of the pile of dishes at home in his sink to distract from not making good on his earlier promises and dragging TK away to Mateo’s room and get laid immediately. He sends Paul a hateful glare who looks smug.

By the time someone asks the question about TK’s flower tattoo on his chest Carlos has actually gotten a little tipsy, and the youngsters, which most of them aren’t really, because some he’s realised are as old as he is, have grown a lot on him. He’s having a very good time.

“What’s the story behind the flower tattoo, if there is one?” TK leans forward, eyes mischievous.

“It’s funny you should ask.” He begins and Carlos silently groans.

“So, the story begins when I was in Thailand, gap year and all that, I am sure you’ve been at that point in your life?” Some nod, TK has the attention of the whole room and he grows more and more confident, comfortable with everyone’s attention on him.

God, this is going to be funny.

“We were partying at my hostel, we got real drunk and I went home with a dude that I had met who were staying at a different place than I was. We were both really drunk, we fooled around in his room, you know what happened next, no details for you dirty buggers. Anyway, in the middle of the night I want a snack so I leave him sleeping. Only that I am still so drunk that I forget that to be able to get back to his room you have to have a key card to get the elevator to take you to the floors. So, only in boxers I take the elevator to the ground floor and try to get the vending machine to give me some chocolate, without any money. I stand there clicking every button I can find, when there’s suddenly a cat on the lobby desk. So drunk as I am my attention is immediately on the cat who wasn’t as much in a cuddly mood as I was.”

Carlos is not drunk enough to buy a word coming out of TK’s mouth, but he’s telling it with such conviction, hands motioning around, having completely captivated the room’s attention that even Marjan looks unsure whether to believe this or not.

“The cat runs away, I forget my hunger and I start to make my way back up to, Simon, that was the guy’s name. I try to find my way back up there, only the elevator doesn’t work because I don’t have a keycard so I’m screwed but of course too drunk to realise this. The elevator keeps going up and down though as people come and go and I’m there just in my boxers like a total loser. Basically someone must have thought that I was a prostitute because someone called the police who came to get me. They were so friendly by the way and so sweet, and there I am in my boxers out on the street so drunk I can barely remember my own name trying to answer questions about what my phone number is and where I live.”

He pauses for dramatic effect and Carlo bites his lip, hard and discreetly so no one can see how deranged he thinks this story is. Everyone seems to want to know more so TK pushes on.

“I get escorted out, given a jacket by someone to cover up and then they tell me that they will drive me home. While they are driving I see a tattoo shop that’s open 24/7 and I tell them to drop me there and say something like I live upstairs with the owner and show a photo of a friend who definitely isn't Australian or own any goddamn tattoo shop owner but they buy it. Or they were probably just tired of me, so they drop me off there and I insist I will be fine. Outside there’s a group of people, all of them clearly drunk. I join them, you know making friends while drunk it’s like the easiest thing in the world and then we go into the shop together, me in my boxers and Sydney PD jacket to go with and then have the massive flower tattoo made on my chest while my new friends cheer me on, pay for it too because I have no money or phone, drink some more beer inside of the shop and then we all share a cab back to the same hostel we were staying at and the morning after I woke up with the biggest hangover I have ever experienced, no phone, no clothes and a massive tattoo on my chest I barely remember getting.“ He finishes and the room has been rendered speechless.

TK is preening, loving what he’s just done. The whole room erupts into loud chatter soon enough and none of them can really make sense of the story and alternate between completely buying it and not buying it at all.

Carlos leans forward, nipping gently at TK’s ear before he whispers.

“Babe, I want the actual story for the tattoo.”

“What? You don’t believe what I just told you?” He asks, sweetly, innocently and Carlos snorts.

“Sure, and I am related to Lady Gaga.” TK laughs, turns his head and kisses him.

“I’ll tell you later.” He promises and Carlos pecks him gently on the lips. The room’s moved on and the game continues for a while longer before the crowd disrupts, Marjan and TK set on matchmaking Lily together with the same girl that looked at her earlier while Paul and Carlos get roped into an armwrestling contest that he’s going to feel in his muscles tomorrow for sure.

By the time someone decides they’re going out clubbing Carlos is fairly drunk, a comfortable buzzing just underneath his skin and he’s having a good time, he isn’t going to say no to dancing. TK finds him, sneaking an arm around him, refusing to let him go, which makes it much harder to get his jacket and shoes on and get downstairs and out to the uber that’s waiting. They must look slightly ridiculous like this but no one is paying attention to them and Carlos only has eyes for TK anyway, so nothing matters than him.

They share a cab with Paul and two other people Carlos cannot remember the names of but seems to be really engaged with Paul about some book they both love and Carlos tunes them out, nuzzling TK’s hair who is still wrapped around him. TK looks up to meet his eyes, smile soft and eyes alluring and lips plumb and extremely kissable. Carlos licks his lips.

“Can you two at least wait until we’re in the club so I don’t have to watch you suck each other’s faces off right here?” Carlos huffs and TK swats at Paul, not getting too far away from Carlos, his arms still wrapped around him.

What can he say? He’s drunk, in love and he has a stupidly hot boyfriend, he might be losing his grip on appropriate behaviour when TK is this near and this intoxicating. But maybe, just maybe he should stop drinking for the rest of the evening, especially if he wants to get laid when he gets home.

They get to the club and both TK and him lose the rest of their friends. Not that it matters much anyway, all he has eyes for is TK who doesn’t hesitate to take charge, pulling Carlos towards the dancefloor with such ease it’s hard not to be completely enticed by him. The music is loud vibrating through Carlos’ body and TK pulls him close, finally without having to care about other people, letting go of everything that was holding him back before, finally having TK all to himself.

TK looks to be in his right goddamn element, alive, happy, body moving with the freedom of being safe and in love and allowed to exist freely. Carlos barely even grapples with the urge to pull him close, he just does and kisses him, passionately, bruising, messing up his hair and pulling his hips close to his own. TK hisses against his mouth but he gives as good as he gets and he kisses back fervently, intensely with brutal vigor and Carlos loses his footing, it’s so good. They’re being so indecent right now, but there’s something positively addictive being with TK like this, grinding on each other, kissing without holding back, loving each other boldly and loudly.

It’s all Carlos has ever wanted.

TK pulls away, he honestly looks absolutely wrecked, way too good for Carlos to be sane about anything.

“Baby.” He rasps in Carlos’ ear, voice hoarse and broken and it goes straight to Carlos’ dick, he hisses in response. God he’s so gone. TK, the little devil kisses his neck, lips attached to the exposed skin of his t-shirt, licks his skin, pulls it into his mouth and Carlos bites at his lip, hard, pulling TK closer to him.

They are going to have to slow down otherwise they are going to get kicked out.

“Baby.” He says, sees a shiver go through TK as he clutches at Carlos’ hair, messing it up completely. “We’re going to have to slow down.”

“Why?” TK whines.

“Because we’re not having sex in the bathroom…” But even as he says it the image of TK on his knees in front of him is a little too much not to be very tempting. TK bites at his earlobe, the fucking tease and sucks it into his mouth.

“Fine, fine.” He agrees, pulls back and kisses Carlos, still sinfully hot, but a little more controlled and appropriate than before. He pulls back, smiles beautifully and Carlos knows he’s just never ever going to love someone the way he loves TK.

But they slow down a little, and somehow find Paul who points at Mateo making out with the girl from earlier, Marjan is at the bar looking mischievous and Carlos wonders what she has in mind. He finds that out when she walks towards them, glitter in her hands. She blows some onto Paul who swoops her up spinning her around as she laughs delightedly and then smears some onto Carlos’ face. He wipes parts of it off, but it sticks to his face like glue because of the sweat, and wipes it onto TK’s face, pulling him close to kiss him to stop his squeaking and swatting.

Mateo comes and joins them and they spend the rest of the night dancing and shouting and laughing and it’s liberating, a different kind of high to be out with friends who you love, who accept you and who you can be yourself with 100%. They are all going to spend weeks trying to get the glitter out of their hair though, Carlos knows as much.

At 5 in the morning he and TK stumble through his door, both of them unable to keep their hands off each other after behaving for hours. Finally they are completely alone.

…..

Carlos wakes up the next day when TK starts to move around in their bed. He hears him leave the room and Carlos groans, throws an arm across his face, hiding from the light streaming in through the opened curtains. He has a headache, not just due to being hungover, but more because of clubbing for hours with loud music, staying up for most of the night and probably because as much as he doesn’t like to admit it, he’s nearing 30. Being out clubbing all night takes much more of a toll on his body than it used to.

TK comes back, puts down what Carlos thinks is a glass of water on the nightstand before he crawls back into bed, Carlos pulling him close, snuggling up against him as soon as he’s back in bed. TK huffs but doesn’t object as Carlos noses at his neck, feeling TK run a hand through his hair.

He’s sore all over, from the arm wrestling, from the dancing and from the insane sex they had last night. And he’s probably wearing TK’s boxers by mistake, because they feel a little too tight on him so they are definitely not his. It’s not comfortable but he doesn’t have the energy to care.

“Morning.” TK croaks out, voice hoarse from all of the screaming. He hums, not really ready yet to be a human. He’s allowed to lie for a moment in bed, peaceful, but the thing with TK is that sometimes he’s inhumane in the mornings, taking after Owen undoubtedly, with his uncanny ability to just be awake. He can definitely be a sleepy little brat, but when he isn’t, once he’s up, he’s up.

“There’s glitter everywhere.” TK comments, smile evident in his voice. Carlos forces his eyes to open, blinks a few times and looks around the room, sees that there is indeed glitter on the bed, clothes lying all around the bedroom, pillows on the ground, the bottle of lube still open, leaking onto the hardwood floor and the mattress has been moved, lying halfway across the bed.

He groans, shifts onto his back pushing his unruly curls away from his face and rubs at his eyes, trying to feel a little bit more awake.

“Here.” TK says and hands him the glass of water. He thankfully takes a sip, moves the pillow more comfortably behind his head before he closes his eyes again, ready to sleep for a few more hours. TK huffs, shuffles around for a moment, unhappy, before he comes closer to Carlos, nudging his legs apart so he can settle between them. Carlos opens his eyes again and moves to make more room for him. TK immediately stops moving and settles, hands unconsciously stroking across Carlos’ chest.

TK has a pillow streak across his cheek, blue and pink glitter still on his face and his hair really is messy from Carlos pulling on it last night, and yet managing to look way too good for someone who has been up most of the night partying.

“Hi.” He says, voice hoarse too. He coughs to clear his throat a few times and TK’s mouth twitches.

“We broke the room last night.” He comments dryly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I’m sure it was mostly you.”

“The mattress was all you.” He smirks and Carlos snorts.

“Yeah I definitely feel that today, and a little like I’ve been hit by a brick…” TK laughs as Carlos struggles with words, not sure how to make his brain work.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“I hate to say this but I am getting too old to party like this.” TK laughs, swats his chest.

“Don’t say that. You’re making me feel ancient.”

“You seem to be handling it a little better than I am.” He mutters and TK snorts.

“Well I didn’t engage in an arm wrestling contest that was just an excuse to flex.”

None of them mention the very obvious reason as to why TK’s is feeling better than Carlos is. Not that they don’t talk about TK’s addiction, they do, sometimes a lot, sometimes less and sometimes not at all. It’s definitely become a fixed point in their relationship, it’s impossible for it to not be one when you are as serious as they are. But they don’t have to tiptoe around the subject anymore either, it’s become as normalised as it can be between them, even getting to the point where TK will sometimes make a crude joke about it that should have Carlos chiding him, that more often than not makes him snort and pull him into a hug instead.

And TK’s whole life, the very core of who he is is not defined by his substance abuse and addiction or his anxiety and issues, so their relationship isn’t either. More often than not they have the exact same problems any couple their age has and it’s nice it has gotten to that point after having had a really rough start to everything.

“What can I say? I’m hot and muscly.” He jokes, flexes his bicep for show as TK snorts, swats him a little harder than before.

“Well you beat everyone in the room who dared to go up against you, that’s not bad.”

“Thank you.” TK rolls his eyes without heat and leans forward to gently peck his lips.

“You have really bad morning breath.” TK observes, pulls back, grimaces in disappointment and Carlos snorts.

“I’m not surprised.” He lifts his head, looks around the room and then changes his mind, lies back down again. TK lifts an eyebrow.

“Just thinking whether I have the energy to get up and clean, I don’t.”

“You’ve earnt a morning in.”

“I think so too.” He agrees and TK huffs.

They’re quiet for a moment, enjoying just being in each other’s company after being apart for a while with their mismatched schedules. It looks like it might be sunny today too and Carlos can probably agree to take a walk, he’s sure TK is going to suggest it.

They’re both extroverts, but only to an extent. TK is learning that he actually likes spending nights in instead of going out to dinner or clubbing while Carlos has learnt the enjoyment of downtime as he can struggle with not knowing when and how to take a break or relax, always feeling like he needs to to do something, to be on his feet, to move, always edging closer to a burnout with the rhythm he’s going in. In that regard they are quite similar and relaxing together, shutting their brains off in a coping mechanism that isn’t sex (yes that works too but it’s not exactly a sustainable option) has become both a challenge and easier with time.

So they have taken to walking on the weekends or the days where they have time off, to talk about the hard stuff, the big life changing stuff or the small and silly things. There’s something with walking in nature that makes all the hard things in life feel easier, easier to detangle the messes and feel like everything will be okay. His ten thousand daily steps shoot in record each weekend when they keep pushing themselves to find new paths, or walk on the old ones, stopping for coffee when the weather allows it, basking in the sun and each other. It’s very old retired couple of them, but even Paul and Mateo’s teasing had come to a stop when Carlos had smacked a massive list of benefits in the group chat to shut them up and asked them to come with them instead. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. But it’s definitely a habit that’s just his and TK’s, carved out from love and finding ways to grow together.

“Sooo…” Carlos says, teasing and TK lifts an eyebrow and leans forward, his elbows resting on Carlos’ chest.

“The tattoo story from yesterday, that was a load of horseshit.” TK grins.

“That was hilarious, I wish someone would have filmed it.”

“I’m sure you would, you sneaky little monster.”

“I think you mean genius.”

“Sure, sure.” TK laughs and there are fewer things Carlos delights in doing more than making him happy. Ever since they got official he’s decided that it’s a daily goal, a promise to keep being happy together, and so far he’s kept it up.

Carlos lifts an eyebrow.

“This tattoo thing is becoming a recurring thing I see?”

“Ah, you’ve seen through my genius plans.” TK snorts.

“This is the first one I ever did.” Carlow grows serious and unconsciously reaches a hand forward, stroking along the tattoo on display.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my dad wouldn’t let me until I turned 18 and I did some real begging and convincing to try and change his mind but he always said no. He settled for 18 because he has one himself which he did when he was 16 and was a lifeguard. It used to be a koi fish but he’s changed it a lot since then and it’s a bit of a mess. ‘A wonderful blob, just like his mind’ that’s his own words.” Carlos chuckles.

“Ah, so why a flower?”

“I don’t even know if it has a meaning or anything, I've just always associated flowers and plants with life and natural beauty and it gives me a sense of serenity, grounds me a bit more in reality when everything is uncertain. And you know me, a lot of things have been uncertain in my life.”

“Yeah, but considering what you’ve been through it’s amazing how far you’ve come, you know this right?”

“Yeah, I’m starting to learn that.” He smiles, a little shyly. “And life is finally starting to feel good again, like this is how it’s supposed to be and I feel safe with you.”

Carlos feels his eyes soften and his heart beat fiercely in his chest and he loves TK so much.

“I feel safe with you too.” He whispers and TK nods, like he understands, eyes soft and a sweet little smile at the edge of his lips as he melts in Carlos’ arms, like it’s finally clicked for him too that they really do belong together. Carlos isn’t very religious or superstitious but from the moment he met TK, when he was guarded and on edge and only wanted sex, knew that they would be good together, that there was something about TK that would manage to ground all of Carlos’ faults and flaws and that once they would be un equal ground, they would create something good and beautiful and stable out of something momentarily broken.

Because TK isn’t broken or damaged beyond repair, he never was and he isn’t now either.

He is the love of Carlo’s life.

He isn’t superstitious but he knows this.

“For someone claiming to be such a city boy you sure do have a lot of earthy and nature themed tattoos.” He comments, gently caressing TK’s cheek, hoping that all he feels for this man can be read in his face. When TK’s breath hitches he thinks he knows, or that he’s seen something he wasn’t expecting.

Carlos pulls him into a peck and TK whines.

“Don’t you have a breath mint or something so we can kiss properly?” He complains making Carlos chuckle.

He throws a look at the nightstand and TK grumberly climbs over him, poking Carlos hard on the nose which he expects is on purpose before he opens the drawer and pulls out a small box of tic taks. He pops it into his own mouth, climbs back on top of Carlos and reaches down, kissing him salaciously, loudly and gives the breath mint over to Carlos who honestly almost swallows it whole his whole body reacting so instantly to TK it short circuits his brain. TK grinds down and Carlos groans, pushing up for more friction and TK chuckles, pleased by the reaction, against his mouth before he throws the duvet to the side so he can get more access.

Suddenly Carlos doesn’t have a headache anymore.

…..

They do make it out of bed eventually and they clean the mess up together. Then Carlos takes a shower and when he comes back TK has made banana pancakes and Carlos realises just how hungry he is. He definitely does the majority of the cooking in the relationship but TK will surprise him from time to time by making something he knows really well, and he seems to have taken to breakfast wood with an almost natural ease, spending a long time of this relationship trying to perfect his banana pancakes.

And Carlos likes cooking so he really doesn’t mind that he does it a lot. He really was brought up with food being the ingredient that solved things within his family. It could be a forgiving gesture or a loving gesture and it was always a caring gesture, even when fights got big and words were said and Carlos was convinced the family was going to split into sides that would never heal, but food was the one constant. He’s taken that with him and it’s his way of showing TK how much he adores him, hearing him try something of Carlos’ and like it, face lighting up as the spices and flavours mix together perfectly is an incredible feeling.

So instead TK is observant, always makes him tea the way he likes it, comes by the station to give him coffee if he’s nearby, stacks up on the protein powder Carlos uses when he does go grocery shopping for them and buys him lunch when they are out in town, obsessed with trying new places. The best thing though is that Carlos’ kitchen has for months now been stacked up on things he would never buy himself, like the fancy hazelnut coffee syrup that’s now found a permanent place by his coffee maker, one of the empty shelves in his cupboard that he’s never found anything to keep there that TK fills up with sweets and snacks and chocolate. Or the vegan protein bars that are now a permanent fixture in a cupboard beside the oven.

TK hasn’t moved in officially but he barely goes home these days, once or twice every second week and only more often if TK and his schedules don’t align at all.

Carlos should probably ask him about moving in soon.

“Hi baby.” TK says and Carlos steps close, pecks him lovingly on the lips before he steals a piece of the pancake, TK swatting his hand away.

“Hey.” Carlos pecks him again before he goes to get some plates and set the table for them. TK comes carrying the plate with pancakes shortly after and Carlos makes himself a coffee because TK when he does drink it, it’s not usually in the mornings, and sighs happily as he swallows down the first sip and then they sit down and eat together.

Carlos is living on cloud 9 at the moment, he’s spent the majority of last night dancing with the love of his life, the morning was full of even more sex and now they’re having breakfast together, the thrill of it moves through him like a current, enfulging him into a warm blanket of happiness. And Carlos really truly is happy.

TK seems to sense it too, he keeps sending Carlos smiles over the table, hooking his ankle over his underneath it, rarely breaking eye contact. When they’re done TK comes forward, sitting down in Carlos’ lap, wrapping his arms around him.

“Hi you.” Carlos says, putting his arms around TK’s waist, pulling him closer to him.

“Hi.” TK whispers, pushes a hand through Carlos’ damp hair, messing up the curls even worse.

“I really like your hair like this.” TK muses, continues with the action, sending shivers down his spine.

“I’ve noticed.”

“Why don’t you keep your hair like this more often?”

“If you had curly hair you would know.” Carlos snorts. He cuts it regularly, hates it when it gets too long, it’s much harder to style and he wants his hair to be out of his way when he works so he tends to sleep with hair stuff in his hair when he goes to sleep, it takes him much shorter to get ready in the mornings that way.

“Maybe.” TK agrees, pulls at the strands a little, enjoying the sounds he’s bringing out of Carlos.

“This has been nice, I’ve missed you a lot recently.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve missed you too.” He promises.

“Do you really have to work tonight?” TK sighs looking dejected.

“Actually no, not tonight, I switched my shifts around.”

“Really?” He looks so happy right now, eyes alive and sweet.

“Yeah.” He rubs his nose against TK’s who huffs but returns the movement before Carlos kisses his nose lovingly.

“So, what should we do with the rest of the day then?” He wonders. TK shrugs.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter what, I just want to spend it with you.”

Carlos smiles.

“Me too.”

And so they do, taking advantage of the day fully, Carlos loving every minute of it.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #9-1-1 lone star #tk x carlos #carlos x tk #tattoo fic #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tk strand

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clairecrive · 5 years ago

Text

"Insecurities" - Eames x reader (Part 2) [Requested]

I'm sorry for the long wait. I made it super long to make up for it. Anon and @kingarthurscat I hope this is what you had in mind when you made the request or that at least you like it. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog (let me know if you wanna be added)

A/n: Prompts are in bold.

The very reason you had been picked to be a part of the group was your ability to became whoever they needed you to be. It wasn't quite like Eames who could really become that person, it was more like an interpretation of a character. Like an actor would do, only you wouldn't be performing in a movie or a theatre. Usually very shy and stubborn you weren't so keen on putting yourself out there the way they had asked you to. But the need for money and your acting skills collected through the high school years as a way of getting more credits did the trick and with a little convincing on Dom's part, you were one of them.

Tonight was no different, you left your shy and awkward self in your hotel room, ready to be Sandy, a confident outspoken entrepreneur, for the rest of the night. The job was very easy to be honest, even though you usually hated when they used you just for your "womanly weapons" as Dom called them. However, being the only woman on the team, your input was required and there wasn't much you could do.

The plan was very simple: distract the wealthy, sneaky Arabian entrepreneur while Eames took whatever information he needed and then make your exit quickly and smoothly when Eames would give you the signal that it all went according to plan.

Flirting with wealthy men was quite the same every time. If you asked them about their job or a thing they have that makes them proud you could have them talking for hours on end. You would just have to throw a smile or a small laugh at the right time and that would be it. Easy job right? The fact that sometimes the men would be smoking hot it's just a bonus. They were boring but at least they were pretty to look at.

Much to your delight, this night, Azir was not only very handsome but he had a few interesting ideas too. Maybe you had been enjoying yourself too much, really engaged in a conversation with him, that you didn't notice Eames trying to catch your attention at first.

Over the years, you had come up with a complex sign language that would allow you to communicate in tricky situations without making a sound. Just a movement of an eye or a finger and the message or warning had come across. So when you noticed the English lad walking towards you while scrunching his nose, you knew that he needed a diversion.

"What is happening here?" He approached you and Azir that was quite startled by Eames' appearance. Thinking he was going for an angry/jealous boyfriend you played along.

"What are you doing here?" You asked feigning a shocked expression.

"I told you that I had a business meeting tonight, but you failed to mention that you'd also be here flirting with a stranger." He explained getting worked up.

"First of all, this is not a stranger, his name is Azir. Second, I didn't tell you because I didn't think you'd have cared."

"In what twisted universe I would not care about my fucking fiancée flirting with a man that's not me?!"

"Wait, what? What are you talking about mate? She doesn't have a ring." Azir chimes in, apparently disturbed by the idea of being accused to flirt with an engaged woman. Nice to see you have morals Azir, not just a pretty face uh.

"Where is your ring Y/N?" Eames inquired staring intently at your naked ring finger

"Funny you should ask, still keeping up with this game I see. It's not endearing anymore, cut it."

"What the hell are you on about?" He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown three heads, glancing towards Azir for support.

"I was so thrilled that after eight years you had finally found the guts to propose to me, that I couldn't wait to share the news with everyone I have ever shared a word with. Also to let them see the beautiful ring you gave me. Imagine my surprise when Karen comes up to me and say: "Do you know that the diamond in your engagement ring is fake?" Of course, I didn't believe her, she had always been jealous of me. But she insisted so to prove her wrong, I stepped on it. Diamonds, real diamonds, are unbreakable. But the one you gave me fell apart like a bread crumble." For added emphasis you turned to Azir, "can you believe it? A fake engagement ring!"

The poor lad had been swapped in this mess and was so lost that if someone had asked him his name right now, he probably couldn't be able to answer right.

"So what if the diamond was fake? My intentions behind the gesture were not."

"Do you even still love me?" You asked scoffing at his words. Noticing three bulky men storming into the hall you were in, you gather your things and without glancing towards both men, you stormed off into a hallway on your right knowing that Eames was hot on your trail. You turn around to see if you were safe but before you could check his hand wraps around your arm and drags you into a dark room to your left. The door closed behind you leaving you standing in the dark catching your breaths.

"Were they still behind us?" You whisper just in case they were close. You couldn't see him in the dark but even if you felt him close to you, when he put his hand on your mouth to shush you it still caught you off guard. Well then, I'll take that as a yes. Even if you couldn't see his face, being this close to him that you could feel his breath on your cheek, made your mind wander and suddenly you were thankful for the dark otherwise your reddening cheeks would sorely stand out and Eames would tease you endlessly.

Turns out that you spoke too soon seeing as, while you were lost in your daydream, he must have drawn out his phone, because a light suddenly shone in the room. It was a janitor closet because at your feet there were cloths and buckets. It was indeed a small space as you've presumed, your chests were touching and if he wasn't taller than you, your noses or worse mouths would too. This realisation certainly didn't help your blushing situation.

"Is there a reason why you're blushing like that?" He asked and really, you knew it was coming.

"Can we get out, please? I think we're safe." You said trying to play it cool. The twinkle in his eyes made his amusement very clear to you, nevertheless he spared you and moved his hand to the door handle. Much to your dismay, it wouldn't budge, even when he tried with more force. Eventually, he had to stop and admit defeat. He turned to you and almost as if you had rehearsed it you exclaim at the same time:

"Well shit."

Groaning you lower yourself to the ground while he wrote something on the phone, probably asking for some help but you know that you'd be here for a while if you had to wait for one of the guys to rescue you. Sensing your discomfort he sat beside you and you knew that he was going to confront you about your weird behaviour. Being observant was part of his job, nothing went past him unnoticed, he was the best in his field for a reason after all.

"So, since we have a lot of time to spare, will you tell me what's wrong darling?" As you predicted he asked softly. Having worked alongside one another for quite some time together with his observant self, made Eames one of the person who knew you best. It wasn't something you were happy about but it was a fact.

"Oh that was Sandy, Eames. Don't need to worry about a fuss over a fake ring." You joked trying to deflect. Classic textbook move and he knew it.

"That was a good stunt out there, not going to lie, but you know I wasn't talking about that. You've been acting weird since we've come out of the room." He insisted. You knew Eames so you were conscious that if you told him to let it go he wouldn't press you but for some reason, you needed to know if he saw you. I mean even if he did, it wasn't a big deal right? No one was perfect and as you were painfully aware of his annoying habits now he knew that you hadn't a perfect body. You could live with that. Conforming to the standard norms of beauty wasn't something you had to do. Besides, nothing was ever going to happen between you. So even if you had a crush on the man and your constant bickering was more subtle flirting, why do you care so much about what he thinks of you? Yes, he probably has been with a lot of breathtaking women but that didn't mean anything. You couldn't compare yourself to other, imaginary in this case, women. It's not a healthy thing to do and besides everyone is beautiful in their own way. You knew that it's just that most of the times you have trouble applying that way of thinking to yourself.

Well then, here goes nothing. This pep talk is pointless if you don't address the elephant in the room. And so gathering all your courage, you did. But wait- how exactly am I going to go about this?

"So, you know that I'm usually very quiet and reserved right?"

"Yes, I know how important your private space is to you. I promised I've not touched anything." He said reminiscing that time when you literally went ballistic when you saw him entering into your room without your permission.

"I know you've learned your lesson don't worry, I wasn't referring to that."

"Then what's the matter?"

"I'm not saying you did it on purpose but have you, by any chance, stumbled upon a very naked me early today in the bathroom?" I finally let out not meeting his eyes. I think it's a fair question to make, sure the answer won't change the fact that he saw me if he did but at least I'll stop wondering about it. However, Eames was known to be very unpredictable so you hoped that he wouldn't feel offended about it nor that he'd tease you for it. For a little while, he didn't say anything but you could feel his eyes on you. Knowing him he was probably studying you and thinking about what to say.

"Will you go mad hatter crazy on me if I tell you that I accidentally took a peak? I honestly thought that you were done and telling me that I could enter when you opened the door. However, I didn't do it maliciously or anything. It just happened, I'm sorry." He explained confirming your assumptions. So he did see you. Now what? However stupid it may sound, you believed him when he said that it was an accident. How different could my body from others anyway? Pretending to not be affected by his confession you just shrugged your shoulders muttering a quiet "it's okay". Needless to say, it was not okay. How were you going to look at him now that you knew he's seen you in your most vulnerable state? Ugh, why did you have to be so complexed? Couldn't you be just as easy going as Sandy? Life would surely be easier.

"If it's okay, then why won't you look at me, darling?" He insisted. Gosh, why won't he let this go?

"There's literally no light in here, how do you know if I'm not looking at you?"

"Because I know you and apparently this held a deeper meaning to you than you want me to know. You should know by now though, that I notice everything. Besides, how can we still work together if you refuse to look at me?"

"I can pretend to be a different person then so there's no problem." you mutter jokingly

"There's no need to pretend with me. We're room buddies!" He said making you laugh. He could be so silly sometimes.

"You can always be yourself with me you know. To be honest, you should never be afraid to be you but I know that that's a tough thing to do. However, I thought I was part of the gang now. That you trusted me and all."

"I do trust you, Eames. I wouldn't be working with you if I didn't. And yes you're part of the gang but neither of them has seen me naked you naked."

"And that changes things how?"

"You have seen me in my most vulnerable and truest form. No filter, no pretending no anything. I can't imagine I was a very pleasant view. I'm just ashamed, that's all."

"You shouldn't be. I didn't think you'd be so insecure about yourself, that only proves how good at your job you are, honestly, but if it makes you feel better, I really like what I saw."

"Yeah sure. Don't need to flatter me to make me feel better. I'm not delusional."

"No, but it seems that you're blind. I thought that my scandalous and obvious flirting was a dead giveaway of me liking you."

"Oh shut up, you flirt with every living thing. It does not make me special." You sassed because it was true. You actually thought he was into Arthur before realizing that he was like that, flirting seemed to be the only way of communication he knew.

"You don't need my validation to consider yourself special. You are no matter what I or any other guy says. Although, you shouldn't really question me. You know I'm always right."

"Could your ego be bigger?"

"Hey, I'm trying to help you here. No need to insult my ego. But it's not the only big thing I have if you know what I mean."

"You know what? I really appreciate your wise words but I think it's best if we wait for whoever you called in silence. Your ego is already sucking up all the air in this cubicle." you said nudging his shoulder letting him know that you were joking. Who would have guessed that he could manage to make your doubts disappear just with a few silly words?

He seemed to have understood because he wrapped his arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder, getting comfortable beside him. The silence between you now wasn't uncomfortable but very welcomed, you knew he wouldn't be quiet for long so you enjoyed it while it lasted, your insecurities long forgotten.

#eames imagine #eames imagines #eames x you #eames x reader #eames inception #eames #eamea fanfiction #eames fanfic #eames fic #inception fanfiction #tom hard #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy x reader

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

Text

the kissing booth (4)

it’s 2am, will add links to specific parts later

ao3

It was the first morning Michael had slept in that he could remember.

The first two weeks or so of coming to this shed that Alex had shown him, he could barely sleep. He kept waiting for something to happen and that it’d be a big joke and he’d often stress so much that he’d leave early hours in the morning to sneak into Rosa’s bedroom. Last night, however, he’d passed out around two in the morning. He was wrapped up in the blankets Alex had in there on the tiny, twin mattress. It all smelled of Alex and it had kept him asleep well after the sun rose.

He stretched his arms out and smiled at the ceiling. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he was thankful. Alex hadn’t come into the shed since he showed him where it was which Michael found a little odd, but they hung out other places. He’d gone to coffee with him and Isobel, they went to Alex’s football games, they talked. It was a legit friendship. Michael felt blessed.

The shed was hidden behind the house and, apparently, Alex’s family didn’t even know about it. It was old and, according to some initials carved into the wall, had been there since at least the 50s. Somehow, though, it was still connected to the house’s electricity. Alex theorized that it was probably shotty, but he hadn’t had any issues. It meant there was a space heater that worked and a light bulb strung from the ceiling.

“How’d you find this?” Michael had asked him that first day.

“I wandered a lot as a kid. I found a lot of stuff, but this felt like my little secret,” Alex had answered.

Apparently, for the last ten years of Alex’s life, he’d been slowly making this place his little escape whenever he needed to go be alone. Michael did feel a little bad that he’d sort of taken it over during the night, but he was also endlessly thankful that he had somewhere to go at night. There was no pressure to leave. In fact, Alex would leave food for him with mom-like sticky notes to tell him to sleep well. It was overwhelmingly kind.

Michael leaned over and grabbed his phone, seeing it fully charged and a message from Alex telling him that he was going for a run if he wanted to join that had been sent four hours prior.

Michael: sorry, I slept through it 😬 would've gone with you

Alex: no worries :) wanna go get coffee?

Michael: yeah, sure. Meet me at the shed?

Alex: be there soon!

Michael bit his lip to hold back a smile. This all felt so normal. It was surreal.

Still, Michael got up and got dressed. He made the bed up like he did every day before he left. Typically, he didn't even undo it. Last night he had.

Michael used his phone as a mirror, checking his hair and his face. He’d have to sneak into Isobel’s for a shower later, but that was manageable. He hadn’t exactly told Rosa or Isobel exactly where he was staying, but he wasn’t really sure if Alex would be okay with that. However, he figured he’d have to ask if only because he didn’t want them to worry.

When Alex got to the shed, he knocked. Michael’s system was flooded with a weird, giddy sensation. He knocked. Someone knocked as if it was his space. He really tried to shake off the smile when he went to open the door, but he couldn’t. It was okay, though, because Alex was smiling too.

“Sleep well?” he asked. He looked good. He always looked good.

“Yeah,” Michael said, licking his lips and looking Alex up and down. On a Saturday morning, he’d gotten up early to run and take a shower, meaning his dark hair was glistening and his clothes were fresh and he smelled so strongly of lavender body wash that it was unfair.

“You know you can keep some stuff in here if you want,” Alex said, “Make it feel like home.” Michael felt his stomach tie in a billion knots and his face felt hot. What the fuck was this?

“Nah, I don’t wanna impose,” Michael said, suddenly unable to really look Alex in the face, “I already feel like I’m monopolizing all the time in here.”

“Oh, fuck off, you’re so not,” Alex laughed, walking further inside. Michael watched him flop onto the bed, making sure it would smell like him for a little longer. “See? No monopolizing here.”

Michael exhaled heavily and managed a smirk, walking closer. Each day, it felt a little harder to flirt with Alex. He wasn’t sure why it was getting harder. Especially since he spent more than a couple nights flailing and smiling like an idiot because Alex did something like brush past his arm.

“So… coffee? Or you wanna stay here?” Michael asked, staring at Alex all laid out like that on the bed. He knew he wasn’t actually as clean as he would like to the first time he got Alex in bed, but it was so enticing.

Alex licked his lips and huffed a laugh, pushing himself up. “Coffee. I need it in my system.”

“Okay,” Michael laughed, resisting the urge to push him further into the bed, “Let’s go. My treat.”

“Shut up, my treat.”

“It’s always your treat.”

“I don’t think you understand how much pleasure it brings me to spend my daddy’s money on a proud bisexual man,” Alex grinned, standing up and touching his chest lightly as he passed, “A subtle but satisfying rebellion if you ask me.”

Michael didn’t know how to react to that, but something deep in his stomach told him that he didn’t want it to end.

Alex came to the shed more often.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you do it?” Alex wondered. He was laid on a yoga mat on the floor, slowly lifting his hips off the floor and holding before slowly dropping them. Michael was positively mesmerized.

“How do I do what?” he asked, tilting his head just a little so he could probably examine Alex’s ass. When he was flat on the floor, Michael theorized he could fit his hand between his back and the floor. He thought about trying.

“Act like nothing bothers you all the time,” Alex said, “Like, I’ve seen you literally look like you’re about to shut down and then the minute someone comes up to you, you throw on that sexy little smile and pretend like you’re great.”

“Sexy, huh?” Michael asked. Alex scoffed and gave him a pointed look.

“Not the point.”

Michael sighed and looked down at the book in his lap. It was apparently in English, but with Alex looking like that only a few feet away he couldn’t recognize any of the words. He tried to come up with a good response but couldn’t think of one.

“I just do,” Michael said with a shrug, “It’s not that deep.”

“I think it’s a coping mechanism,” Alex said sharply, swiftly moving from that position to a plank. His biceps were bulging and it truly felt like he was doing this on purpose.

“I’m not a psychology project.”

“Didn’t say you were,” Alex said, not even kind of sounding winded, “Just saying I think that’s why you’re so tired all the time. You drain yourself pretending.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Maybe not necessarily,” Alex said, bringing himself down to the mat, “But on some level, it’s not real.”

Michael breathed in slow, trying not to be offended. He didn’t think Alex was trying to offend him. Alex lifted chest up and turned his face towards the sky, his hips to the ground. Michael clutched his book and brought his knees to his chest.

“Okay, your turn,” Alex said.

“What?”

“I clearly upset you. Your turn to psychoanalyze me.”

Michael stared at him and wondered if he should play the queer card, maybe that would hit as deep as saying hey your whole personality is fake. Instead, he pulled on his bottom lip and shook his head.

“I got nothing,” he said.

“C’mon,” Alex prodded, shooting a grin his way, “Something’s in your head.”

Michael waited for a few beats before speaking.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Michael asked softly. Alex furrowed his eyebrows and relaxed, sitting down like a normal person.

“Not everyone has an agenda, Guerin,” he said with a soft laugh that Michael couldn’t reciprocate.

“Not in my experience.”

Alex stared at him for a moment before saying, “What about Rosa? She doesn’t have an agenda.”

“Rosa feels bad for me and I’m just waiting until she hates me,” Michael said, “Same with you, I guess.”

“Okay, Rosa literally loves you,” Alex corrected. Michael shrugged. “And I won’t ever hate you. If I thought that was a possibility, I wouldn’t be around you in the first place. I definitely wouldn’t have asked you to stay here.”

It was the first real-time those exact words had been said out loud. They were the scariest words Michael had ever heard. He didn’t respond.

“You look tired,” Alex said, standing up, “Get some sleep.”

Michael stayed up the rest of the night.

“My dad’s out of town.”

Michael watched Alex curiously as he stood in the doorway of the shed. He was in baggy sweatpants and an equally baggy crop top, his hair a mess and looked painfully sexy. It genuinely wasn’t fucking fair. Michael gulped and took a quick look at him up and down. Alex was smirking when he got back to his face.

They’d been doing this for a month. He told Isobel and Rosa where he’d been staying and they didn’t ask questions, but he knew they thought he was just setting himself up to be let down. They had told him more than a few times that Alex was straight, don’t fall for a straight guy, don’t, don’t, don’t.

But they didn’t see Alex in moments like this. Moments when he smirked at him and touched him and wanted to be around him. He couldn’t just be making that shit up.

“I have the whole house to myself,” Alex added after a moment.

“Sounds lonely,” Michael said. Alex bit down on his lip and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. Alex tapped against the door frame and tilted his head, truly looking at Michael in a way he’d never really been looked at. It made his heart beat a little faster. “You need a haircut.”

Michael let out a surprised little laugh, raking his hand through his hair. It was getting long and Rosa usually cut it, but he hadn’t really been paying attention. He’d been a little distracted.

“I’ll get one eventually.”

Alex grinned. “I can give you one.”

“Right, and ruin my hair? Nice try.”

“Nah, I’m actually pretty good at it,” Alex promised, reaching forward to swat lightly at his arm, “Let me show you.”

Michael caved. How could he not?

“Alright, but not too short in case I need Rosa to save the day.”

Soon, Michael found himself walking through the Manes house for the first time. It was just as big as he imagined, but he didn’t get a good look at it as he was led up the stairs to Alex’s bedroom. That seemed far more important than the rest of the house.

“Welcome to my room,” Alex said, throwing his arms out lightly. Michael looked around at the band posters that mixed oddly with the military-esque order of the rest of the room. “My dad and I made a compromise.”

“I see that,” Michael smiled, “You’re just an emo kid waiting for his time to shine, huh?”

Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head, grabbing Michael by the shirt and tugging him into the bathroom. The smile on both of their faces were prevalent as Alex pushed him into a chair that was already in the bathroom. A quick, nosey peek into the cabinets when Alex turned away to get scissors revealed makeup that had Michael’s mind wandering. He’d never seen Alex in makeup. He wondered when he wore that.

“Can I wash your hair?” Alex asked as he walked back in with a pair of scissors in his hands. Michael looked up at him and felt more obsessed than ever.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” Michael said helplessly. Alex smiled and leaned to grab shampoo from his shower.

Alex put a folded up towel behind Michael’s neck and leaned his head into the sink. His long fingers combed out the knots in his hair as he drenched it with warm water. Michael’s eyes fell shut and he lost himself in the sensation. By the time Alex was working the shampoo into his hair, he was almost asleep.

Michael was brought back to the living world by the sound of Alex’s laughter. He opened his eyes to see him above him, eyes shining. It was one of the most relaxed moments he’d ever seen Alex in. He was utterly carefree and comfortable. Michael was a fucking goner.

“You awake?” Alex asked softly. Michael nodded. “Lift your head for me, okay?”

Again, his eyes struggled to stay open as Alex snipped off bits of his hair. Rosa was always quick and efficient when cutting his hair, usually making him laugh and distracting him. Alex, on the other hand, was taking his sweet time. He’d press his body up against his, lean close, blow on his cheek to get fallen hair away, and disperse random touches wherever he could. He was beginning to think Alex could cut all of his hair off and he’d still say thanks.

Alex finished off the cut by combing his hands through his already curling hair.

“There, you can wake up now,” Alex said, smiling at his work. Michael turned to look in the mirror and saw that it was definitely a bit shorter than he usually went and could anticipate that, once it dried, it would shrink.

“You think I’m still hot?”

“Yeah,” Alex chuckled, using his finger to curl a ringlet over Michael’s forehead. Oh, he was fucked.

“Can I ask you something?” Michael asked after a moment of both of them just staring in the mirror. Alex nodded. “Are you straight?”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows like he couldn’t believe he asked that question. “Why? You into me or something?”

His tone was bordering somewhere between joking and accusatory and it was confusing enough that Michael decided to reel it in completely. Or, as much as he could. It was hard. Too fucking hard.

“Just wondering since you can cut hair and what are we if not stereotypes,” Michael joked. Alex smiled again and rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he laughed, walking back into his bedroom. Michael stared at himself in the mirror for a little bit longer. He’d spent over two months now assuming Alex was into him and now he wasn’t sure if he was right. Had he made it up? Had he misread things? Had he seriously fallen for a straight guy? “Guerin, we get it, you’re into yourself!”

Right. Still here.

Michael went back into the bedroom, plastering on his smile so it wouldn’t seem like he was more confused than ever. Alex was laying on his big bed, his laptop propped against his knees.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked. Michael’s first thought was yes, followed by that’ll make it worse, followed by who cares.

So, instead of being smart, Michael fell onto Alex’s bed and all but sunk into it. Alex tossed a ball that was on his nightstand and shut the lights off.

“Impressive,” Michael noted.

“Yeah, I know,” Alex laughed. Michael smiled at him helplessly all over again. “What do you wanna watch?”

“I don’t care.”

“Alright, then we’re watching Buffy and starting where I let off in the middle of an episode in the middle of season 5,” Alex threatened. He really didn’t seem to understand that Michael didn’t give a shit as long as he got to lay in his bed with him.

“Okay.”

“You are so fucking tired,” Alex teased, clicking on the episode that he’d said, “Go to sleep.” Michael furrowed his eyebrows. “Dude, you were falling asleep the whole time in there. Just go to sleep.”

“You sure?” Michael asked, “You gonna wake me up when you wanna kick me out?”

“Yes,” Alex said, still grinning as if this was a normal thing you did with your friends. Which, for Michael, it kinda was, but Alex seemed different. Still, Michael took him up on the offer because he was self-destructive and couldn’t turn down the opportunity.

Michael woke up in the middle of the night to Alex sound asleep on the pillow beside him. Alex had pulled the blanket over them both sometime after he’d fallen asleep and just let him stay. His fingers twitched, eager to touch his hair or his lips or just any part of him. Instead, he kept his hands to himself and turned to face into the pillow, deciding smelling him was a lot safer than looking at him.

They both slept through Alex’s alarms.

All of them.

“Your hair looks nice.”

“I’ve done something extremely stupid and I don’t know what to do about it now, help me.”

Isobel blinked in surprise, but Michael didn’t really care that he’d passed on the greeting. It was finally Monday and he’d spent the weekend playing house with Alex, sleeping in the same bed and cooking together and being so fucking domestic that Michael wanted to throw up. This wasn’t real. Alex didn’t like him.

“I think I’m, like, in love or something,” Michael vented. Isobel’s eyes went even wider. “I-I spent the whole weekend with Alex. He cut my hair and we slept together and‒”

“You what?”

“Not like that! Just, in the same bed, and acted like fucking boyfriends minus all the kissing and the cuddling and, Izzy, I want the kissing and cuddling,” Michael vented, dropping his head in his hands. Isobel grabbed his arm.

“Okay, just breathe,” she instructed. He listened. “Look, have you talked to him about it?”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “No. Well, I asked him if he was straight, and he sort of avoided the question.”

“Maybe try asking something a little different?”

“Like what?”

“Like a date?”

Michael snapped his head up, probably looking as horrified as he felt. “I can’t do that. He gave me a whole ass place to go where I don’t feel like I’m bothering everyone. If I ask him out and he’s not into it, I ruin that. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Listen, Michael, I think it’s worth it,” she said softly. He shook his head. “Look at you! I’ve never seen you like this over anyone. That feels like it’s worth it to me.”

Michael gulped and tried to shake off his nerves. It didn’t really work.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, “And if kicks you out, then fuck him and you don’t want to stay with a guy who gets that offended.”

Michael felt like she was skipping a few steps in logic, but he also felt like having Alex for real sounded like a fucking fantastic thing. He’d been wanting to kiss him for so long it hurt.

So, that night, when Alex showed up at the shed again, Michael decided he needed to just get it over with or he was going to fucking drown.

“Hey, can we talk?” Michael asked as normal as possible. Alex smiled that sweet smile and nodded. They both sat on the little bed, facing each other. “So… Promise me you won’t get upset?”

“Why would I?” Alex asked. Michael just stared at him until his smile started to drop. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Okay,” Michael breathed, “So… This whole weekend got me thinking really hard… I like you.” Michael looked away from him and then looked back. Alex’s face didn’t really change. “Like, I like like you. Like running into you that day kinda changed my entire life.”

Alex blinked a few times and turned his head away. Michael could feel his heart dropping. Oh. This is how it goes bad.

“This weekend…” Alex whispered, shaking his head with a scoff. “That was seriously the first time you noticed me?” Alex asked, voice carrying so much more emotion than it usually did that Michael flinched, “That day when you ran into me. You seriously had never noticed me before?”

Michael blinked a few times. “No?”

Alex scoffed, “You know, I used to see you every day and thought you were so fucking cool. For, like, three years I saw you at Bean Me Up, at the Crashdown, at the library, around town. I saw you all the time! I stared at you and admired you and tried my hardest to get your attention without having to actually talk to you because you were so fucking cool!”

Michael leaned away from him, eyebrows furrowed and more confused than ever. He was struggling to follow any of what was being said. How the hell had he been around Alex all that time and never noticed him?

“And when you started talking to me, flirting with me,” Alex went on, laughing dryly, “I really thought that you’d noticed me too. I had really fucking convinced myself that maybe you’d been doing what I was and just fucking pining like a dumbass for three years. I really thought that! I thought that someone as cool as you had somehow noticed me and had been waiting for your moment!”

“Alex, what‒”

“But no,” Alex huffed, “Because you’re too cool. Too self-absorbed and too fucking entitled to older women and rich girls and-and saying you like men but never being seen with one, then I show you I’m rich and suddenly you’re into me? Okay, Guerin.”

“Alex‒” Michael started, stopping that train of thought once Alex got up, “I don’t‒ I’m not‒ Alex!”

“You can still stay here,” Alex said, face still angry and hurt even though he was trying to use a calm tone, “I get you’re not faking that. But don’t fake being into me for my fucking money.”

Alex left him alone and he tried his damnedest to understand what Alex’s thought process had been. He wasn’t sure how he got from point A to point B, but he was sure Alex wasn’t open to hearing his explanation. Mainly because he didn’t have one. Alex had added so many fucking steps that didn’t even exist. How did one person complicate a stupid crush so much?

What the fuck was he missing?

“I’m totally over Alex.”

“Michael…”

“No, seriously, I am,” Michael insisted despite the fact that he was sitting in the bleachers at Alex’s football game, rambling over the noise that made up halftime, “I’ve had a few days to think about it and I’m glad he rejected me.”

“Seriously?” Isobel sighed, “I think if you guys just talked, then‒”

“No, I don’t wanna talk. He assumed so much shit about me without asking for clarification, I don’t wanna be with someone like that,” he said firmly. Maybe he still ached for his skin, maybe he still missed his smell, maybe he cried a couple of times, and maybe he couldn’t sleep in the shed anymore because it reminded him too much of Alex, but so what?

“I think you’re overreacting,” Isobel said softly.

Michael shook his head. “I’m not the one overreacting. Alex freaked out on me for no reason. I don’t need that in my life. And good thing too.”

“...why is it a good thing?”

“Because now I can focus on a guy who actually wants me,” Michael said firmly, “Like the guy at the kissing booth.”

Isobel sighed loudly, “Michael, that was‒”

“I don’t care. He’s gotta still be out there. I want him. He wants me.”

Michael didn’t look at her because he knew it’d be pity. He was tired of pity. He’d been getting it from her and Rosa all fucking week. Everyone went through tiny heartbreaks, he wasn’t special.

To prove that he wasn’t special, he stood up on the bleachers and whistled as loud as he could. He got a relatively decent-sized audience, including some of the football team, including Alex Manes, so he knew it’d spread to whoever it needed to reach. He threw on his smirk.

“Can I have your attention, please! Three months ago when I did a kissing booth at your fundraiser, one of you lovely men of Atherton kissed me behind the booth! I’ve been looking for you ever since!” he announced loudly. He heard a few whistles in response, fueling him more even as Isobel tugged on his pant leg. “So, I’d like to proposition you, whoever you are! Meet me at Bean Me Up Monday night! Let me get to know you! And, if he’s not here, everyone spread the word so I can find him!”

Michael sat back onto the bleacher as people whistled and clapped for him as if he was that important. Sometimes, he surely felt he was. When it came to the people of Atherton, they felt he was too.

“What the fuck, Michael?” Isobel hissed.

“What?” he asked, “I was just getting shit done.”

“You could’ve gone about that in a better way.”

However, when Michael looked and saw Alex staring at him with slightly terrified eyes, he really thought he couldn’t have.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #my fic #the kissing booth

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ardenttheories · 5 years ago

Text

Dirk Route notes:

Very long, very rambly. I went on a fucking journey with this one. And... probably have to try and kick my ass back into gear about reading Homestuck^2.

- Why did the Reader have that flash of a failed end? That’s significantly more in depth than other death scenes have been, and in general this isn’t a power we’ve seen from the Reader beyond maybe the pie-scene and other scenes wherein someone else has influenced them. Have I missed something (as I’m still not caught up from Tavros onwards) or is this subtle Dirk influence at a time he’s not aware of his powers?

- Dirk potentially being excited at the first human touch he’s ever had hurts my heart, just a little

- Dirk disliking the sea because it’s a physical boundary to reflect the metaphysical boundary of his distance to human society is fucking SAD

- On that note, Dirk fucking loves theatrics and is almost too excited to have another friend, particularly one he can interact with. This poor by is so desperate for attention

- Again, Dirk can interpret when the dead end is coming up, and steers Reader away from it - which allows them to vividly imagine it. There has to be a union of powers occuring here, Dirk’s Heart with the Light bestowed upon the Reader?

- Reader can hold the Sord because of their disconnect from the narrative and their simplistic form and I think that’s beautiful. It also brings into question what will happen to reality if the Reader wields it for long enough.

- Update: What happens when Reader swings the Sord?

- DIRK LAUGHS, HAS DIMPLES AND FRECKLES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL!!

- Dirk thinks he needs to “earn” the right to see his friends. That’s... just about the saddest thing I’ve ever read. He’s so mean to himself. He doesn’t think he’s actually worthy of seeing them without proving his worth first.

- Dirk being unable to stop the thought that the game’s in motion simply because he can’t handle the idea that everything that was planned has been tipped right the fuck up by Reader, and believing that he can still put things back on course, partly being linked to a possible suicide if he’d literally been unable to continue with the game or to visit his friends/get the promise he’d always been promised signals that he’s always had a very strong connection to narrative relevance and his own sense of importance within it. Lacking that importance, or that strict narrative to follow, ruins Dirk

- Dirk finally giving the Reader his trust, just. He’s so eager for friendship, huh? Scared to trust but pleased by the results.

- OH GOD FUCK ULTIMATE DIRK. First of all, how’s he found Dirk and the Reader? Is it through their connection, as Splinters? He mentioned trying to ignore it - this must be a universal part of him being the Ultimate Self. He’s connected to Dirk, perhaps living it, and... not pleased with what he sees. Which leads onto a second thought; how much does he hate seeing himself happy? Both instances of his arrows pointed to his smile - and his scribbles crossed out his face, his head. He doesn’t like seeing himself vulnerable, trusting, and willing to make friends.

- Well, there’s some interesting rammifications in the fact that Dirk speaks through a Dirklog. His narrative control only lets him communicate through a Homestuck-recognisable style? Why the fuck is he so buff.

- What the fuck do you mean he’s making a species from scratch? What the fuck have I missed in Homestuck^2?

- Ultimate Dirk still seeing people only as what their arcs define them as, their narrative role, rather than as actual people who exist outside of that concept... And, interestingly, implying that he can fix the entire timeline. Would he intend to go back in time and fix it, or remodel it as it is? Curious how he hasn’t attempted to fix it before - which, yeah, he said he was waiting for Reader to die, but why not before this point?

- Reader finally remembers Homestuck, and Dirk considers the Reader as enough of a friend that he’s concerned for them. This is not how I wanted this to go down, but I wonder if this will increase the power the Reader has over the narrative?

- The Reader refusing to stoop to Dirk’s level and instead remaining firm that he won’t wrench Dirk’s choice away from him... please. Reader oh my god make things right. With that said, young-Dirk is still being so caring to Reader. It shows... a lot about my theory on Princes, honestly; that friendship tends to be what they have least of, and that it’s what they need to change their toxic course. That seems to be the biggest divider between Dirk and Ultimate Dirk - although I will note the irony that Ultimate Dirk, being the Prince of Heart, is destroying his Self by refusing to allow Dirk happiness.

- “Your alliegence is not to the story, but to the people within it” <- a primary example of what Ultimate Dirk’s doing. He’s not connected to the people within the story anymore, just the story itself. He’s forsaking those people for the narrative they live within. Nurturing the text rather than the people he used to love.

- “... wanted to align every part of yourself to know it all, feel it all”. Fuck. Is that what Dirk thinks this is? No wonder he’s gone off the deep end and assumes this is the Ultimate form of himself, the purest sense. He’s completely fucking insane. Not so much in the traditional sense as in the fact that he’s so overwhelmed with his Self that he thinks he has it all figured out. Reader’s right. He can’t imagine existing on a path that isn’t Ultimate Dirk any longer, and I think is so far up his own ass about it that he doesn’t even begin to assume that anything outside of Ultimate Dirk is worth it. He sees that as his perfect self.

- The point on Dirk not needing to create more pain to control how much punishment he gets and what he deserves brings me back to the Meat Epilogue - Dirk positioning himself as the villain because he believes that’s what he should be. Reader’s trying so hard to encourage Dirk not to be that, to tell him he can have better, but Dirk’s self loathing is so severe he believes he deserves punishment. I would assume just for existing.

- “And you know how he loves -- though it’s fierce (to a definite fault), he does not do it easily” Fucking owch. That’s the Dirk we see in canon. The Dirk that couldn’t bear the thought that he’d hurt Roxy because he didn’t love her, the Dirk that adored her and saw her as their perfect leader, the Dirk who had something good to say about all of his friends, the Dirk who held Dave and talked him through his abuse with Bro. He loves a fucking lot, even if he doesn’t love freely.

- Ultimate Dirk pointing out that Dirk won’t be able to live a happy life because he’ll always wonder if it was the right choice is fucking me up. That boy can just never be happy, huh?

- OH GOD I KNOW THAT’S EARTH C. THAT’S THE TOWER DIRK OFFED HIMSELF ON IN CANDY. OH GOD NO.

- Oh my god he got Candy Dave, a Dave who just lost his Dirk, to come talk to Dave. That’s so fucking sad, what the fuck. On top of that, “Does Dirk even believe that others can, of their own violition, love him?” Yeah, probably not. He thinks he has to manipulate people into loving him - we see that for sure with Jake in Homestuck, during their main intro section - and even now, seeing Dave, he’s not sure he can just... chill out with him. Why is this route so fucking sad.

- Dave looking heartbroken when he says “it’s okay to not have all the answers”. You know he wishes he could’ve said that to Candy Dirk. But it’s interesting, too, how Dirk fixates on canon and that being the answer, and anything that’s not canon meaning he has NO answers - is that what Ultimate Dirk is so afraid of? Not knowing? It seems very likely that this lack of control and uncertainty of what he’s doing is why Dirk becomes suicidal.

- Forgot to mention this early, but also “The ends justifies the means”; you mean, Ultimate Dirk, the same way Bro justified beating the shit out of Dave and forcing him through daily abuse with the fact that it “had to happen” for him to survive the game? They’re... a lot more similar than I realised.

- Something to note, interestingly:

Ultimate Dirk has the Heart symbol. Dirk has the hat symbol. Candy Dave has the scratched record symbol and the Time symbol at once. There’s an implication here that there’s more unity in Candy Dave than in Dirk as a whole - that Dave has accepted the things he’s experienced both as a kid and as a retired hero. Which would make sense, considering this is the non-canonical Candy timeline, prior to him becoming a robot; one where he’s still relatively unimplemented. Ultimate Dirk is still trying to identify himself with the game, with relevance, while Dirk is just a kid, on that precipice of choice.

- ... What shit did Dirk have to deal with on his end? I need to check Homestuck^2

- The importance of Dirk making his own choice is incredible. The allowance to NOT regret it, to make his own “right” choice, and not to be forced to question what things should have been... holy shit. And what a fucking switch. We’re playing AS Dirk. We’re not making this choice for him, it really is just HIM doing it. I fucking love this. Narratively speaking, this is cool as fuck, and it says something awesome - that Dirk’s right choice is the Reader and Dave, not Ultimate Dirk, which leads to a bad end.

- Dirk’s innate need to know is, ultimately, what ruins him in the end. I find it endlessly fucking interesting that he doesn’t seem wholly into it, though - that he’s trying to convince himself as much as the Reader that it’s right.

- “It’s not about this being the real timeline or the fake one, the hard one or the easy one. It’s about it being his. If he wants it.” I will never stop being sad and elated at the same time over this single paragraph. Dirk finally accepting that he doesn’t need answers, grandeur, or a narrative. He just needs to accept his timeline, let himself live within it.

- Oh. Well that WAS a happy ending, until Ultimate Dirk CHOPPED THE FUCKING THING IN HALF TO REVEAL THE CODE.

- Ultimate Dirk slamming Reader into the Afterw@rd? Okay. Sure. Lets roll with it. Hi Aysha.

- Well. I need to process everything with the Director. Ultimately, it’s... just a lot to pick apart, even if it’s very blunt. She used the Reader because, knowing what’d happen, the Reader would’ve been too eager to avoid some things and force others to happen too quickly, would’ve been too awkward or weird to truly make friends - hence, lost memory. But why? I’m not quite sure about that. Doc Scratch had a reason for Friendsim - to put everyone in place for Hiveswap - but why Pesterquest? The Director mentions about things being... better? That Reader’s taken these kids universally destined to end up without happy endings, and given them a chance at a happy ending, but I really don’t know why.

- What the fuck does “they’re an artifact of the medium” mean? Where the hell did Dirk steal those muscles from?

- Ultimate Dirk, still so fixated on character arcs that he sees Eridan’s gender exploration as a “gender arc”, and not personal development on a more human level. It’s... actually a little worrying how impersonal he’s gotten. He’s not even really seeing any of the characters as people anymore.

- “Happy people don’t get stories told about them” ... he’s. Technically not wrong. Without conflict, there’s no story; there NEEDS to be something to overcome, some arc to follow, for a good, compelling story. But I’m not sure Dirk realises that they don’t need that. They don’t need a story arc because they can just exist and be, outside of the spotlight. They don’t need OUR focus. Even if we don’t see it, they can still exist - which brings an interesting point to the Epilogues, honestly. They were a sort of punishment for our own curiosity to see how the story ended, to see more - and really, that’s what Dirk thrives on. He needs the “and more” after, not the happy ending. He needs a story, needs to be seen.

- Ah. Ultimate Dirk trying to take over the narrative has me slightly fucked up, not gonna lie.

- Ah. So my original theories were right, and why shit never made sense even all the way back in Jade’s route. This IS the Alpha timeline, and the Reader has been doing a retcon the whole time, turning the Alpha into an outright Doomed timeline. Nothing makes sense or works because it can’t. Paradoxically, the Reader isn’t creating a new timeline - they’re changing the only one that “matters”. They’re actually changing Homestuck.

- “You would create a paradox so catastrophic it would literally tear the multiverse apart”. Well. At least we know what happens when the foundation universe is fucked up by an outside influence.

- You get the option to not betray your friends... and the game just closes. The only way to get an ending where you don’t ruin everything you’ve worked towards is one where you never see what happens next, where you don’t have to make that choice, where you just let everything go black. Fuck.

- Sidenote: The Director wins out against Ultimate Dirk because it isn’t his arc. It’s not his story, not his role, and he doesn’t have the same power over it. And, of course, the Director is the one writing it. She has the ultimate power.

- The Green Sun being able to tear at the narrative within Reader is... interesting, to say the least. And just that description of Reader... “The impossibility that is you, protagonist, reader, carrier of the story”. They really are just this weird little metanarrative entity that doesn’t have any right to exist, and maybe only makes the barest amount of sense to actually exist. But the Green Sun being the sum of all the narratives - the narrative itself?

- IS THIS ULTIMATE READER. DID THEY JUST MAKE THEMSELF ULTIMATE. WHAT THE FUCK.

- They did not. They just became a First Guardian and created a fucking Locked Timeline. What the hell are the rammifications of this in regards to Homestuck? Reader’s removed this timeline from the narrative itself, while also remaining within it - so maybe this means that everything’s... both stable and unstable, somehow impossibly allowed to exist at once? Homestuck, Pesterquest, Homestuck^2? I assume Pesterquest is now disconnected from the rest of the canonical universe - in order to stop everything from ceasing to exist entirely - because how else could it work? A universe that only exists once.

- The Reader made the single best timeline. One where the kids can just exist happily. I’m unsure if this is a good or bad thing - that yeah, there should be no consequences, since Reader is looking over them, but on the other hand... is this really the good ending we’re allowed? Will more be added to this, the good ending abruptly continued and the story resumed? There’s a lot of things unanswered - such as what’s going to happen with HIC, since there’s no game influence left to provide her with LE power - but do we want them answered when we know the Epilogues were our punishment for wanting answers? Will they be answered?

So the question becomes: Sequel, or no sequel? And what does the True Ending mean in the grand scheme of things?

#ardenttheories #long post//#pesterquest spoilers

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canonicallyanxious · 6 years ago

Text

we sure know how to run things

Druck | Matteo/David | 2.4k words

Or: David and Matteo go for a run.

Another installment of my Lorde-inspired post-canon series [though you don’t need to read the rest of it to understand this one!]. They’re getting longer and longer but that’s okay lol. This one is for Team. Hope you all enjoy!

The room is still dark when David opens his eyes, which means the sun hasn’t risen yet. And yet, though it must be preposterously early - or possibly preposterously late - he feels miserably, painfully awake. His throat is aching and his temples are pounding with the remnants of a nightmare he can’t remember, which is probably for the best but still discomfits him, this unshakeable feeling of missing - something. He doesn’t know what. Then again, it’s not like that’s anything new.

David tips his head back toward the ceiling as the world around him slowly fills itself back in. Each moment that passes, each piece that slides back into place loosens the tightness around his lungs just a little bit. Which is good, he thinks. A little bit at a time is better than nothing at all. It’s progress, isn’t it?

Next to him, Matteo’s breathing is slow, and soft. The sheer contrast to the jagged sharpness still lingering in his chest nearly hurts, in a tangible way.

He reaches for his phone and checks the time, strained eyes blinking blearily at the sudden brightness. It’s nearly half past five. God, what time did he go to bed? One in the morning? Maybe two? Does it matter? Counting the hours seems a pointless task when he can’t for the life of him remember the last time he slept for more than five of them in a row.

Careful not to make a noise - Matteo is a light sleeper - David drags a hand across his face. And then he gets up.

David doesn’t usually like to take long showers - it feels like a waste of time, mostly - but this morning he decides he’s feeling a little selfish, a little petulant at the universe, and maybe it isn’t a terrible thing to forego his normal routine every once in a while, maybe it’s good to fool himself into thinking he knows how to relax about something like this. He turns the water on as hot as he can bear it and lets it drum against his scalp, beating the life back into his skin and bones. He closes his eyes, blocks his ears. The sound of the water against his skull turns to thunder - drowns his loud thoughts out.

With just this one thing to focus on, right now, he feels as close to being safe as he ever will.

It’s six thirty by the time he leaves the bathroom, hair mostly dry though still dripping a bit on the fabric of the soft grey hoodie he picks up off the floor and pulls on. He approaches the nightstand to collect his phone, and his heart jolts in his throat when he realizes Matteo is awake, blinking up at him blearily from his cocoon of blankets.

“Time is it?” Matteo mumbles, voice hoarse with sleep.

David steps over to the side of the bed and runs a hand lightly through Matteo’s hair. If he’s letting himself be selfish today this only seems an appropriate course of action to take. “Too early for you,” he says.

“Hm.” Matteo squints up at him. “Where’re you going?”

“A run.”

“Oh.” There’s a long pause as Matteo looks him up and down. He reaches out slowly with one hand, tucking it into the pocket of the hoodie David is wearing. His fist clenches lightly around the fabric. “This is mine, isn’t it?”

“Guess so,” David says, as if he didn’t already know.

“Okay.” And then, astonishingly, Matteo pushes himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, arm still stuck in the pocket of David’s - Matteo’s - hoodie. “I’m coming with you.”

For a moment - a very brief moment - David is struck speechless. Then again, around Matteo, this is nothing new either.

He opens his mouth, meaning to question him in a teasing way - Matteo joining him on a morning run at all let alone one this early is so unprecedented David wants to know if he’s been replaced by a pod person - but Matteo hauls himself up and sleepily nuzzles his face against David’s cheek, arm nestled in the depths of the hoodie pinned between them, and in the end all that comes out of his throat is, “okay.”

He probably should have seen that one coming.

Still, he doesn’t exactly have high expectations, and sure enough about ten minutes into the run Matteo bends over and grasps his knees with his hands, too breathless to ask David to slow down.

David slows down anyway. “We can walk. We don’t have to run.”

Matteo looks up at him through the fringe of his hair hanging into his eyes. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not,” David says, honestly.

Matteo searches his face, for a long moment. As if looking for truth.

David would give it all to him, if he could.

“We can walk to the park,” Matteo says finally. “And then you can run and I can sit on a bench and cheer you on.”

David laughs, despite himself. Matteo would make a terrible cheerleader. “You won’t get bored?”

“No,” Matteo says.

David’s turn, now, to decide if he believes him.

In the end, it’s not a hard choice to make.

So they walk to the park. Matteo shoves his hands into his pockets, his hood pulled up all the way over his head, and he kicks at David’s feet occasionally, an old game of theirs they’re both used to, but otherwise he doesn’t talk. Which is fine - more than fine. David likes taking in the quiet world around them. He likes taking it in with Matteo by his side. It sort of feels like he notices more than usual. The hazy orange glow at the brim of the horizon. The sound of the gravel under the rubber soles of their shoes. The number of birds that fly above their heads - three, four, five dark shapes against the sky. It’s like now that he has a reason to look up from his own feet, now that he has something to look at and pay attention to, he just - takes the opportunity to do so. Easy as that.

At the entrance of the park they find a bench for Matteo to sit on and he collapses on it, head lolling back toward the sky. He gives David a small wave and a smile as he sets off on the path. The glow in his chest after seeing something like that could singlehandedly keep him alive for miles, he’s certain.

As he walks along the trail, David digs his earbuds out of his pocket and presses play on his favorite running playlist. He’s used it a lot this past week and it’s probably in severe danger of being overplayed, but the first track he puts on is an old comfort - a slow, pulsing number by Lorde, great for a quick warm up - and the familiar beat of it seeps so effortlessly into his pulse, the rhythm of his breathing, he just can’t fight how perfect this feels. He walks, slowly at first, and then quickly, and then the song melts into something more upbeat and he picks up the pace, the shock of each step against the concrete a welcome feeling through his entire body. He tilts his head back, drinking in the newbon sun that caresses his cheeks so gently it nearly makes him smile, and breathes. This isn’t always true but today his lungs feel enormous in his chest, full to bursting with the crispness of the morning air. He feels like he could run forever, if he wanted to.

God. Maybe he does, a little.

And so David goes, one foot in front of the other, the most reliable and innate motion in the world. The ground is solid under his feet, the sky opening up endlessly above and around him. And it’s never felt easier to breathe - to be. It’s only when he’s running that his body finally feels like it could catch up with the speed of his tangled-up brain. He craves this feeling, sometimes, when he’s motionless. Because sometimes his mind goes so fucking fast, his thoughts running round and round in infinite circles, he can’t even begin to figure out what any of them are. Sometimes his head is the messiest place he can even imagine. And he hates messes.

The thing is, when he runs, it’s almost like he doesn’t care about that. It’s the best pretending he’s ever done.

And with his track record, that’s really saying something.

It takes him twenty-four songs before he circles back to the bench at the entrance of the park. His hoodie is plastered to his skin with sweat, and his temples are pounding with heat. He feels boneless. He feels alive. And Matteo is exactly where David left him, legs curled up under him and head resting on his arms. The rise and fall of his chest is a rhythm David would recognize anywhere. He’s sleeping.

If David’s heart wasn’t already threatening to burst he thinks it might come apart at the seams anyway to see this, how open and sweet Matteo’s face looks when his eyes are closed. David sits himself carefully next to Matteo and brushes the back of his hand against Matteo’s cheek. Matteo wakes like he always does - slowly, like ice melting from his limbs. Eyes fluttering gently open, eyelashes brushing his cheekbones, a tiny yawn escaping his lips. He wipes at his left eye.

“Shit,” he says. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” David says. “We all know how hard waking up before ten is for you.”

Matteo shoves at his shoulder, but he can’t hide his smile from David; he never can. “How was the run?”

David lets his head fall back until it hits the top of the bench. “Good. I feel good.”

“Good.” Warmth brushes against his shoulders, the back of his neck. Matteo’s arm, he thinks. “You deserve to feel good.”

David doesn’t say anything to that - he can’t. His eyes slip closed. And the silence between them, that old friend, envelopes him, swells in his chest until it almost feels like it belongs there.

This feeling, this impossible quiet. He feels it the most when he’s around Matteo.

He loves this feeling.

A thumb strokes against the side of his neck, catching at a drop of sweat sliding down his skin. David cracks his eyes open and turns his face to Matteo. There’s a question he can recognize in this touch. He sees it in his eyes, too.

“Why do you like to run?” Matteo says.

David considers this, for a bit. It’s not that he doesn’t have an answer to it - not that he’s never thought about it before. It’s that he’s never put it into words for someone else. Never had to. Or wanted to, before now.

“It’s not so much that I like it,” David says, although he does, he thinks. “It’s more like I need to.”

Matteo nods. “Why?”

“Because…” David lets out a slow breath. “Because I just don’t know how to stop.”

It sounds stupid. He knows it before he even says the words, knows how hopelessly inadequate they are. He says it anyway because he doesn’t have any other words to say. This feeling inside of him - the ceaseless motion - is so vast. So heavy it almost suffocates him some days. And he’s lived with it for so long he doesn’t know how to begin to describe it. It’s like trying to put into words what his own heart looks like. Like trying to draw it on paper.

But when he looks over at Matteo, he doesn’t seem confused. He meets his eyes, and David’s fingertips tingle. That thrill of being - what’s the right word? Seen. Somehow he doesn’t think this will ever get old.

“That sounds like it sucks,” Matteo says.

David swallows down a smile. “I guess.”

Matteo’s fingernails scratch gently at his hair. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What’s that?”

Matteo leans in, close enough for their temples to brush and for his words to kiss the shell of David’s ear. “Stopping’s the easy part.”

A smile pries itself loose from somewhere inside David, and this time he can’t stop it from happening. This time he doesn’t want to. “Is it?”

“Yeah,” Matteo says with a decisive nod. “Here, I’ll show you.”

David straightens as he watches Matteo get up, stretch his arms above his head, drop them back down at his sides with a loud groan. And then he swings a leg over David’s lap and bends his knees so that they’re lined up with David’s hips, and he’s sitting back on David’s thighs. He wraps his arms around David’s back, and his face falls into the crook of David’s neck.

“Fuck,” David exhales, surprised at the sudden weight and warmth on his body, though he doesn’t know why he would be when this is a very Matteo thing to do. He doesn’t mean the word in a bad way - not at all. Honestly, in a different context he might. He doesn’t usually like the sensation of something pressing down on him. It makes him feel trapped, and if there’s anything he knows about himself it’s that he’s always, always looking for an escape route, even when he doesn’t mean to.

Right now, he doesn’t want to find an escape route. Right now he kind of just wants to let this moment unfold. It’s a foreign feeling. And yet kind of breathtakingly wonderful, at once.

“See,” Matteo breathes into his shoulder. “You’ve been stopped. Easy.”

“You should get off me. My legs are going to fall asleep.” His hands come up to rest between Matteo’s shoulder blades, as if he could press him closer to him if he tried, as if they weren’t already as close as they could possibly be.

Matteo’s hands clutch at the fabric of David’s hood, his knuckles skimming against the back of his neck. “Never.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Matteo lifts his head up, and grins.

“We’re staying here forever,” he says.

David buries his hands in Matteo’s sweaty hair, letting them slide down the side of his face and the curve of his jaw until his palm is cradling the pulse at his neck. The feeling of it, the reliability of Matteo’s vitality, calms something inside him. Something small. But something meaningful, nonetheless.

“Okay,” he says.

He has no other words to say, no other words inside of him. For once, he’s glad for it.

#druck #matteo x david #davenzi #datteo #sarah does writing #but i live in a hologram with you #<- check this tag out on my blog if you want to read the rest of the series!!!

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mysteli · 6 years ago

Text

drunk text (jake x mc)

A/N: I’m back after a loooonngg time and this fic exists thanks to @brightpinkpeppercorn. I’m not really sure what to think of but I’m still posting it. it’s more of a comedic piece. But I have more romantic shit coming in the future. Don’t worry!

Warning: innuendo, swearing

Recommended music: idk

Words: 2066

PERMA TAG LIST: @brightpinkpeppercorn@cocomaxley@hopefulmoonobject@alesana45 @jellybean-marshmellow@mymandrake@regrettingnathan@dobie2112@princessstellaris@mechaspirit@skyila @mind-reader1 @xo-endlessmayhem-xo@sakaily@justboredtrash@regina-and-happiness@annekebbphotography. @endlessly-searching-for-you@reginasayeed@zigortega4life@eileendannie@diamondoasis@speedyoperarascalparty@emomoustache@lostlightningbug@endlesstaylormckenzie @alekai-sayeed@akrenich@vickypoo91@nitta-jaeguet@femmeshep @hayden-park@mkatschoicesblog

Prompt used: ““Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night”

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! 💗and let me know if the tags work because Tumblr is acting up.

Summary: A couple glasses of wine lead Michelle and Quinn into stealing Logan’s phone. What could possibly go wrong?

Masterlist

ENDLESS SUMMER FAN FICTION DRUNK TEXT

“Who wants more wine?!” Michelle questions in a high, obnoxious tone, her voice thick with energy and excitement.

Logan and Quinn had both volunteered to help Michelle start decorating her house as she prepares to move in with Sean. She’s been talking about how nervous she is to take the next step with him but she’s also aware of how amazing it’ll be to get more serious with the man she loves. Logan is a person as helpful as they come so of course she’d decide to help her out with the interior. Same could be said for Quinn but who ever clarified that the day had to be completely innocent?

Turns out they overestimated how long this would take to complete and they finished the entire living room in the space of six hours, which is very quick for an entire room. It looked pretty put together too, with everything in place aside from the stuff the moving van forget to bring over and just that stressed Michelle out a lot.

So, when they finished, Michelle suggested letting a little loose and she revealed a bottle of wine, which was downed fairly quickly. They promised that they’d only have one glass each. But one glass slowly turned into two, then three... then four... then five. Now they’re all completely wasted.

“Me, me, me!” Logan exclaims, snatching the bottle out of Michelle’s hand and taking a massive sip.

“Hey! It’s not all for you, Lo!” Michelle argues, snatching it back with force. Logan forms a challenging smirk in response, wiping the leftover liquid off her mouth.

“Oh come on! You have about five more bottles!”

“Sharing is caring, Logan.” Quinn chimes in, smiling appreciatively as Michelle hands her another glass.

“It’s 3am, Quinn, and we’re doing this. It’s clear we don’t care. Surprised the neighbours haven’t left an complaint.” Logan responds, folding her arms as she takes a seat on the floor. They’d been playing really childish games since 10pm that night. Games like truth or dare, never have I ever and would you rather. The standard teenager trash that they’d play in high school. Then they turned to karaoke, which was a guarantee for angry neighbours, right? Yet nothing came through.

Hell, Logan didn’t even realise she’d be here this long. And she had to lie to Jake about why she was staying over. Of course, she knew he’d just laugh it off if she said she’d been drinking all damn night. But she wasn’t in the mood for his teasing so she messaged him with a little white lie, claiming they hadn’t finished and were exhausted so she’d just stay over and finish off in the morning. He understood completely, telling her he loved her and hoping she’d have a goodnight.

How oddly nice of him.

“I’m bored. Are there any games we haven’t played?” Quinn wonders, turning to Michelle for an answer. She simply shrugs her shoulders in response, seating herself on the floor with the others in the awkward little circle they’d shaped.

Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in Michelle’s head and her face lights up proudly. “We could drunk text someone.” She beams, lifting her arms high in the air and her glass rises with them, the action causing some liquid to plummet onto the carpet. “Shit. Good thing I’m getting new carpet.”

“Ooh! That sounds fun.” Quinn agrees, clapping her hands together excitedly. “What do you think, Lo?”

“Sure, I’m down for that.” Logan nods in agreement, though if she’d know how this would turn out, she would have said no. “Who do you wanna drunk text though?”

Michelle scans the room as she thinks of a possible victim to their game, a devious smile crossing her lips as her eyes land on where Logan’s phone lies on the floor. The perfect receiver for the situation.

Logan notices the way Michelle is looking at her and a wave of realisation washes over her. “No no no, Meech! You’re not drunk texting Jake.” She dismisses the idea and Michelle rolls her eyes in annoyance.

“Why not? It would be so funny.” Michelle points out and Quinn nods fiercely in agreement.

“No it wouldn’t! Jake would get pissed.” Logan counters their argument and shakes her head in denial. “Besides he’s probably asleep.”

“Even better.” Michelle mutters, snatching the phone off the floor before Logan can stop her. Logan only now regrets ever sharing her password with Michelle.

With a proud smirk, Michelle opens the phone and goes straight to messages, finding Jake’s name as the first one. Suddenly, she bursts out laughing when she notices something unusual in his contact name.

“Oh my god, Lo! Why is there a drooling emoji by his name?” Michelle mocks, her laughter only increasing the more words she gets out. Quinn quickly joins in on the giggles upon hearing that. “Aw, and a love heart. Cute.”

Logan hides her embarrassment by clapping her hands over her face. “Fuck off, Meech. Who knows what you have by Sean’s name?”

“Oh it’s just your standard hearts. You know, because I’m normal.” Michelle corrects, struggling to suppress her laughter. “Oh come on, Lo. Jake isn’t all that.”

“Well, you haven’t had him in bed like I have, huh Michelle?” Logan beams proudly, winking at Michelle, who looks like she’s on the verge of throwing up. Another idea pops into Michelle’s mind and Logan gets worried as she begins scrolling up. “What are you doing?”

“How about we look through your past conversations?” Michelle suggests, her malicious intentions clear but Logan knows just how to shut them down.

“Go ahead then. Keep scrolling if you want Jake’s dick embedded in your memory forever.” Logan retorts and instantly, Michelle is put off by the idea, her finger scrolling back down.

“Fine. You win that one. But we’re still drunk texting him.” Michelle clarifies, preparing to type something before turning to Quinn for suggestions. “Any ideas, Quinn?”

“I say, just start off by sending him a long ass heyyyyyy.” Quinn suggests and Michelle nods eagerly. “Any weird nicknames, Lo?”

Logan doesn’t respond, rolling her eyes in defeat. Clearly she’s just gonna accept that this is happening.

“Oh! Call him Princess.” Quinn exclaims, dancing with pride as she giggles with glee.

Michelle types out the message, adding a few extra emojis for good measure.

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Princess 🤤🥰❤️

“Threw in the drooling emoji so he knows it’s you, Lo.” Michelle points out, winking at an irritated Logan.

It takes a few minutes for Jake to reply, probably since he’s waking up from a slumber or something. Michelle and Quinn jump with eagerness and curiosity when the phone vibrates, signalling that a text has come through.

i thought it was my job to call you that darlin 😉

Michelle rolls her eyes at Jake’s response, hiding a mocking smirk. “Oh shit. One text in and he’s already hit us with the darlin’ crap.”

“And a winky face!” Quinn exclaims with forced shock. “Say something, Michelle!”

Well you’re a bootiful little princess sooo maybe that should be MYY job 🥺

Almost immediately, an offended response comes through.

Little?? 😂😂

Michelle is instantly confused by his reaction to her clearly mocking his masculinity. “Okay, so he reacts to being called little but is not offended by anything else?!”

“He’s just gonna laugh it off if you call him little.” Logan chimes in, shaking her head at how childish her friends are being right now.

“How do we piss him off then?”

“Like I’m gonna fucking tell you.” Logan denies, mimicking their mocking laughter.

Yes, little. You’re my little tiny babyyyyy 👶🤪

It takes a little longer for a response to come through this time. But when it does, it’s so worth the wait.

Are you drunk Princess???? 🤔

I thought you said you were sleeping early at Michelle’s.

Michelle reads the text aloud and that’s when Logan already can’t take it anymore. She rushes over and snatches back her phone before typing an apology to Jake.

Sorry baby. Michelle and Quinn stole my phone. 🙄

Logan moves to the other side of the room where Michelle and Quinn can’t sneak attack in order to get her phone back. Stressed, she runs a hand through her platinum hair as a response comes through.

Oh. Are they drunk???

Suddenly anxious that he’d find out she lied, she buries her face in the wall and curses under her breath, not sure how to respond to his question. In the distance, she can hear the snickers of Michelle and Quinn. Hell, Logan is still drunk herself so she doesn’t have complete control over herself right now.

No 🤫

Why did she have to add the emoji?! Why?

Pretty sure that means you’re hiding something princess 🤥

“Fuck!” Logan shouts as she gazes up at the ceiling hopelessly.

“Oh shit. Did Jake find out?” Quinn teases and Logan can’t hold back her frustration in that moment. In one swift motion, she takes off her shoe and tosses it at Quinn. The red head barely dodges it and her laughter only increases in reaction. “Nice shot.”

In the end, Logan just rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her phone.

why would I lie to you?? you’re too pretty to be lied to 🥺

Oh shit. The drunk side of Logan is starting to really shine through.

yeahhhh you’re drunk too 😂damn i should’ve fucking known

Sure, he’s laughing about it. But it still fucking hurts that he found out this way. Thanks to Michelle and Quinn.

“Usually your fights turn to fucking so has it happened yet?” Michelle pipes up, only to receive a middle finger from Logan.

Out of nowhere, a phone call comes through from Jake and Logan freezes in place, unsure what to do.

“Oh wow. He’s calling you?” Quinn reacts, laughing igniting once more. “Better answer your loving husband.”

Logan sighs heavily before answering the phone, leaning against the wall as Jake’s muffled voice speaks through the call.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to get drunk and not invite me.”

Logan’s jaw drops at his reaction, not surprised with the constant teasing but more surprised by how little laughter is being expressed right now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have lied to you. I just wanted to avoid this.” Logan apologises, exhaling sharply after she speaks. She wipes the sweat that creases her forehead, unsure why she’s so nervous.

“Hey, it’s fine. Anything to have an excuse to talk to you is a good thing to me.”

Logan lets out a soothing sigh of relief, still haunted by the mocking laughter of Michelle and Quinn from the other side of the room. Jake appears to hear it too, judging by what he says next.

“Hey, darlin’. Put me on speaker for a moment.”

Logan grants his request and walks over to Michelle and Quinn with a newly found smirk on her face, countering the mischief on their expressions.

“Jake wants to say something.”

Michelle and Quinn listen out of curiosity to what Jake wishes to say.

“Yo, Chanel and Ariel.”

They both roll their eyes at the nicknames, their expressions of mockery finally falling.

“Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night.” Jake requests at calmly as he can and Michelle and Quinn burst out into laughter once again.

“Sure, pilot. We’re so sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep.”

Jake releases a frustrated huff and Logan knows he could lash out at both of them right here right now. Before he can say anything else, Logan turns off speaker phone and brings the device back to her ear.

“Now, now Jake. Let’s play nice, okay?” She tries to reason with him and he seems to obey, judging by the collected tone he speaks in next.

“Hmph. With them, I will. With you, I won’t.”

The husky tone of his voice and the innuendo behind his words leaves Logan breathless. An unexpected rush washes through her body in reaction.

“Well, you’re just gonna have to wait until I get home.”

“Or not. You could come home right now.”

Logan checks the time once more. 3:30am.

“Jake, it’s half past 3 in the morning.”

“I’ll come pick you up. Come on, darlin’. I’m sure right now you’d give anything to be away from Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.”

#it’s a messy fic but oh well #playchoices #choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #endless summer #es #choices es #Jake x mc #jake mckenzie #fan fiction #mysteli

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yodawgiherd · 6 years ago

Text

'Twas the time before Christmas

Rating: T

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Covertly setting up some stuff for Christmas. It's so clooooooose :O

Enjoy!

“Cough it up, Yeager, what would she look like?“

Eren sighed from behind his book, not even making the effort of putting it down.

“I told you once, and I’ll tell you again. I do not have an ideal girlfriend made up in my mind. Hell, I don’t even have a type I prefer.”, he turned a page, pointedly ignoring the shadow looming over him, “So why don’t you go back to your group of wankers and let me study in peace. We got a test coming up, but you probably forgot, didn’t you?”

Jean, as usual, didn’t take no for an answer, sitting on the edge of Eren’s desk instead.

“Well, if you won’t tell me, I’ll tell you mine. You see, I have it all figured out.”, he leaned back, a dreamy expression entering his face, “She will be athletic, doing some kind of sport, probably, to keep in shape. We are most likely going to end up doing it together, because we will both enjoy it much more than just going for a date in a coffee shops and shit. Her hair will be long and dark, and her laugh will the most beautiful sound ever. And of course,…”, he grinned, “she’s going to have long, perfect legs and the greatest ass in the world.”

“Couldn’t leave that detail out could you. “, Eren finally did put his book down, looking over to his “friend” with a thoughtful expression. “You know, it’s funny.”

“What’s funny.”

“I think I saw just the girl you are talking about.”

“Wait, really?”, Jean leaned forward, interested, “Where? The internet? Do you have her Instagram? Snap?”

“Nope, in real life actually.”, Eren did his best not to smile, “Down at the stables, there’s this mare….”

“You know what, screw you Yeager.”, Jean waved his hand dismissively, “You’re going to die a virgin anyway.”

“See, that is technically impossible,”, Eren picked his book back up, going back to reading, “since your mom already took care of that.”

He should have seen the punch coming.

Back in the present, Eren woke with a gasp, hand flying up to his cheek, where he could feel the sting of Jean’s fist. It took him a moment to realize that it was just a dream, a memory more like, because the event did happen, but it was years ago. Despite the phantom pain in his face, Eren grinned. They both got suspended after this little accident, but it was definitely worth it. His banter game was on point ever since high school. And Jean was just over-reacting anyway, after all, he did tell him the truth. There was no time to be wasted thinking about girls, when the exams were piling, and the university had such high admission requirements, so he really didn’t have a preference. Then he saw Mikasa, and suddenly he had a type. Very specific one too. The memories seemed to put a pressure on his chest, and he took a deep breath to get it off, but somehow, it was still clinging to him. Curious, Eren looked down, and it was easy to see what the problem was. The weight on him wasn’t psychological, it was very much physical and alive, still deep in her own slumber.

The thought of waking Mikasa up did cross Eren’s mind, but it was still very early, as he could decipher from both the alarm clock next to the bed and the fact that the sun was still down. Marking the feat of wiggling from underneath her without waking her up as impossible, Eren decided to just stay awake and watch her, because she looked pretty as hell, and there really wasn’t anything else to do. So, instead of getting up and being productive or anything, he ran the tips of fingers over her face, as gently as possible, lost in his little exploration. Well, he knew how she looked like, so exploration might be a little far-fetched, but rediscovering the smaller features of her face was always a delight, no matter how many times he did it. The gentle curve of her nose, the fact that her eyebrows were identical in their raven color to her hair, the little pout on her pink lips suggesting that whatever dream she was having, it might not be the most pleasant one.

Curious to see how she would react, he poked her nose, just a little bit, watching it twitch in irritation as her frown deepened, her body most likely wondering who the hell had the gall to disturb its rest. The hold Mikasa had on him tightened, fingers clutching a bit more firmly to Eren’s side, the engagement ring scraping his skin, but when she felt that she wasn’t alone it went slack again, the frown finally disappearing from her face and being replaced by the usual neutral expression sleeping people had. It was certainly better than at the start of their relationship. The memories of her hugging him so tightly that she was close to breaking a rib, or when she woke up and randomly threw him off the bed, coupled with all the times she just hit him out of nowhere, her sleep addled mind having no idea who he was. Eren never blamed her for those episodes, knowing that her nightmares were bad, memories of her childhood tragedy lodged deep in her mind. He stuck with her through it all and was rewarded by the decreasing frequency of those unpleasant wake ups. Mikasa still had bad dreams from time to time, woke up randomly in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep, and he was always ready cut his own sleep short in order to be with her. Oh yes, he was a wonderful and caring boyfriend, hold your applause please.

Some of her short locks were covering one of her eyes from view, so Eren pushed it back behind her ear, just for it to fall back into place as soon as he let it go. Stubborn, he repeated his action, but his efforts were once again proven useless. Oh no, he wouldn’t give up. Time flew as he went on with his adventure, fighting against the strand, and before he knew it first rays of sun streamed in through the windows, illuminating her sleeping face.

“What was her name?”, Mikasa asked out of nowhere, making him wonder if she just woke up or was already conscious for some time, just lying on his chest while he endlessly played with her hair.

“Whose name?”, he asked, not really understanding what she was talking about.

“The dancer.”, Mikasa’s grey eyes opened, blinking up to his own, emerald ones, “The one at the club.”

“Oh… Ehm… Why do you wanna know?”

She shrugged.

“Just curious. You didn’t tell me back when we were talking about your…. hardness issues.”, seeing that he still wasn’t all the keen on answering, she leaned a bit closer, “What��s the harm?”

“Right.”, Eren still didn’t know why she wanted the information, but there really was no point in not telling her, was there? “Jade. Her name was Jade.”

“Jade.”, Mikasa let the word roll around in her mouth, “Tell me about her.”, she said while putting her head back down, once again closing her eyes.

“I mean, I talked to the girl for like five minutes, and she gave me a lap dance. I’m not exactly well informed about her, but I’ll do my best. What do you wanna know?”

“What did she look like? You said that she looked like me a bit, but there had to be differences, no?”

“Let me think…. She had black hair, like you, and similar tone of skin….”

She tapped his chest impatiently.

“The differences, Eren.”

“Well….”, a mischievous grin appeared on his face, “Her chest was definitely bigger…. and… she was way lighter than you are.”

Slowly, Mikasa pushed herself upright and opened her eyes, straddling him instead with a thoughtful expression.

“Are you saying that I’m heavy?”

“Maybe?”

“Hmmm…”, not breaking the eye contact, she rocked her hips a bit, which made Eren realize just how perfectly aligned they were, with her heat right over his crotch.

“I mean, I’m not saying it as a bad thing, of course,”, blurting those words out, he creeped his hands up her thighs, stroking the soft skin, “just an observation.”

“Is that so?”, to his anguish, she stopped in her movements. Sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. “You know what, you can carry me down for breakfast then, as a part of your training. I want…”, she tapped her chin, “pancakes.”

Laughing, he swept her up into his arms and carried her downstairs, but when he tried placing her on a chair, she clinged to him instead, arms and legs both interlocked, and didn’t let go.

“Listen, I know that you hear unnaturally fast from all your injuries, but I don’t.”, she said, “I’m not sitting down without a pillow after last night.”

Oh right, her ass still had those wonderful red imprints he left behind. Retrieving a cushion for her from the couch, Mikasa finally did sit down, although Eren didn’t miss the way she winced, just a little bit. The cooking part afterwards was easy, even with her asking every five minutes if it’s done yet.

“Why did you ask about Jade all the sudden?”, Eren asked after they were about halfway done with the breakfast, really not buying the whole “just curious” thing.

“I had a dream about her.”, Mikasa chased a bit of a pancake around her plate for a second, before finally managing to skewer it mercilessly and put it in her mouth, “I mean, I don’t know how she looks like, but I know it was her.”, her eyes narrowed a bit as she looked over to where he was sitting. “You were there too, watching her.”

“I was?”

“Hmm..”, Mikasa seemed to lose herself in her own mind, staring into nothingness with a fork in her mouth. But just as Eren was about to poke her, to see if she wasn’t completely out of it, she snapped back into reality. “I wanna see her.”

“Huh?”

“The dancer. I wanna see her.”

“You mean, you want to go to the club?”

“Yup. How about today? When do you get off work?”, suddenly, she was all energy, bouncing up and down on her chair with excitement.

“Eeeeh, eight? I think?”

“Swell, amazing, I’ll pick you up from work then? And we can go together?”

“Sur…”

“Great! See you then!”, with a speed of sound, she appeared next to Eren to press a quick kiss to his cheek and was out of the door before he could say half a word. He sighed. Seems like his day was all planned out without him even having to make a decision. Putting the last of his pancake between his lips, he chewed slowly, shaking his head.

“Gabi? Is that you?”

“Yes, its me. Sorry for not calling so long Ms. B… Sasha. Had some problems I had to take care of.”

“Right, right, it’s okay, we are talking now, aren’t we?”

Gabi giggled on the other end of the line.

“I guess we are.”

“Listen Gabi, there’s something I wanted to ask you. We’ve been talking for some time, and I was wondering, maybe you’d want to meet? In person?”

“I…Uh… I’m sorry but…. Why would you want to see me?”, Sasha could hear the girl take a shuddering breath, “I hurt you. I didn’t mean to but… I shot you.”

“Wouldn’t you feel better if you apologized to me in person?”, from the upbeat tone of her voice, you could never say how much Sasha wanted to see the girl, “We can grab ice cream or something and…”

“No, I don’t think I can. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“No! Gabi, wait, Gabi! Fuck!”

But the resolute beep confirmed that the line was disconnected now, and Sasha was talking to no one. With a shout of frustration, she threw her phone back on the couch, running her hands through her hair. She wanted to meet the girl, wanted to help her. Gabi wasn’t talkative, and didn’t share too much information with her, but from the tidbits Sasha constructed a rather depressing image. Her parents were either gone, or not caring for their daughter at all, because she never spoke about them. Gabi also seemed to have fallen in with a wrong crowd, and was possibly addicted to some drug, judging from the way she talked about needing a “fix”. But there was nothing she could do for her if they wouldn’t meet in person, god damn it. Withholding info from Connie was also getting harder, but she couldn’t tell him, she promised Gabi that she wouldn’t talk to anyone about her. Picking up her phone from the couch, she put it in her pocket, slowly wheeling herself outside of the living room. Maybe Gabi will call her again, later in the day. Hopefully.

“And that’s a wrap!”, Dot called excitedly, putting his camera down.

Sighing in relief, Mikasa dropped the pose she was holding, and let an assistant unbutton the long coat she was wearing, shrugging it off afterwards. The bikini shot she was silently dreading was postponed, and now she was apparently part of the ongoing winter collection, as Kiyomi informed her. She was also picked as the face of biker gear for the future, the photoshoot set sometime next year. Dot’s influence was apparently bigger than she first gave him credit for. Phone in hand, she checked her messages, but was soon interrupted with a decent cough from the photographer.

“I thought we are done?”

“Oh yes, we are done for today. There’s another thing coming soon though.”, he grinned beneath his moustache, “Your popularity is on the rise my girl, exactly as I said it would be.”

The model work was fun, although Mikasa would never admit that, a welcome change from the routine of her training days. It surely helped that she was working with such amazing people too, somehow she couldn’t see herself doing those shoots with anyone else than Dot, the man got under her skin rather fast.

“Okay, I’m interested. What is it about?”

“Christmas.”, he pointed at the calendar behind her, “It’s just a few weeks away, you know. Now we already have a campaign rolling, of course, but there are still some photos to be taken, sets to cover.”

“Christmas? So, I’m going to dress like a deer? Santa? An elf? “

“Oh please.”, Dot laughed, “Christmas is the perfect marketing. Sure, there are some people in the background as elves and reindeers and shit, but the main focus ain’t that. We don’t want to sell deer suits, we want people to buy expensive dresses, coats, shoes, all those things. Last minute shopping is always impulsive, and you can net a very tidy profit if you know how to abuse it. So, looking forward to it?”

“Totally.”, she smiled at the old man, “Thanks for everything.”

He returned her grin.

“Believe me dear girl, it is my pleasure.”

“Yo, Yeager.”

Typical Ymir, leave it to her to distract him from work any day of the week. Not like he would have her any other way.

“Ymir,”, carefully, Eren put his pen down, “what’s up?”

“Me and Krista have been talking,”, she said, coming to sit on his desk, leaning over while making a complete mess of the papers he had all over it. Typical. “She wants to hang out with you again, apparently she likes you a lot.”

“Just like that, out of nowhere?”, he sighed, “Hardly a surprise, to be honest, I am a very likeable person.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”, Ymir rolled her eyes, “Krista is just way too nice for her own good.”

“The timing is perfect, actually. Mikasa wants to go back to the strip club after work, wanna tag along?”

“The strip club huh?”, the grin on her face widened, “I liked it a lot there. Beautiful girls.”

“And here I thought you were dating the poor woman.”

“I am, but not everyone is like you.”, she jumped down from his table, searching her pockets for a phone to tell her girlfriend the great news, “I can still appreciate a beauty of another female.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh please.”, she frowned at him over the display of the now found phone, putting it to her ear, “You could have miss America naked on your lap, and you would still ask: Hey guys, have you seen Mikasa anywhere?”

“Mocked for being faithful.”, Eren put a hand to his chest, seemingly hurt, “What has the world come to.”

Ymir just rolled her eyes at him, walking away to have the conversation with Krista in relative privacy. She only came back to give him thumbs up and say that both her and the blonde are looking forward to the evening. Well, more people usually mean more fun. And truth be told, he wanted to talk to Krista too, she was a great girl. Picking his pen again, Eren made a mental note to call Mikasa and inform her of the new addition to their trip, before going back to filling out the reports. He still had a ton of them to cover.

The bouncer at the entrance somehow remembered them from their last visit, greeting them by name as he let them in. Hange was as loose lipped as usual, apparently. The inside of the club didn’t change, although there were some Christmas decorations, tiny trees in the middle of the tables, and a few more lights spread all around the club. Luckily, they weren’t playing carols. They found a booth, sitting down and ordering their drinks, as expensive as always, and Eren looked around, trying to find Jade. Now that he was here, he realized that she might not even be working today, so the whole trip had a good possibility to be completely wasted. Should have thought about there before coming here. But the more he sat at the comfortable booth, arm around Mikasa, the more he realized that finding Jade might not even be the best part of the evening. Because, spending time with Ymir and Krista, it just felt good on its own. Half of the time he was silent, just watching the blond and Mikasa talk, because for some reason the two of them clicked together, leaving both him and Ymir in the dust. Maybe that was the reason that he found himself standing at the bar some time later, next to the freckled girl, waiting for a drinks refill, while Mikasa and her newfound friend were chatting away at the table.

“Yeager.”, Ymir nudged him with an elbow, “You there?”

“Where else would I be.”, he frowned, massaging the place where she touched him. Roughly.

“I’ve been thinking…”, she began, but Eren didn’t let her finish.

“You can do that?”, he asked, a big surprise on his face.

She nudged him again, harder.

“Shut up. Now, I was thinking, we should do our Christmas party here. You know, the thing that Erwin does every time around this time of the year? What do you think?”

“You want to have a hospital Christmas party. Here. In a strip club.”

She shrugged.

“Yup.”

“I… Uh… I can bring it up with him, sure. But I’m not promising anything.”

“Oh please,”, Ymir grabbed the drinks from the counter, “you are his golden boy, he’s going to do it for you.” Turning around, she started heading back towards the table, Eren in tow. “This year is going to be fucking amazing, mark my words.”

As the evening steadily progressed into the night, Jade did appear, much to Mikasa’s delight, and danced on the stage. She really was amazing, exactly as Eren remembered, making the difficult forms look easy. The three of them enjoyed the show for, well, obvious reasons, while Mikasa seemed more interested in the way the dancer moved, studying it with an expression of deep thought on her face.

“So?”, he asked once they were back home, getting ready for bed. It was rather late after all. “How did you like her?”

“She was certainly pretty, I can totally see you falling for her.”

“Please.”, he snorted, “You are much prettier.”

“Flatterer.”

“Guilty as charged. But seriously, why were you staring at her like that, during her performance?”

“It’s just…”, Mikasa appeared in the bathroom doors, climbing next to him on the bed and yawning, “I loved the way she moved around the pole. It was so… energetic?”, she took her usual sleeping position, resting her head on Eren’s chest which he took as a cue to start moving his fingers through her silky hair, “She seemed to be having a lot of fun, you know, I’d like to try it too someday. And Krista and Ymir were just amazing, I think I love them both.”, she added as in afterthought, closing her eyes.

Sooo, Mikasa had a taste for pole dancing huh? And Christmas was coming up, how convenient. Eren hid his grin into Mikasa’s hairline, stroking the strands gently. Perhaps there was a shopping trip he ought to make.

#eremika #fic #soon™

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icarusatmidnight · 7 years ago

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Oh gosh, asks definitely coming your way for this one! For Olea and Thyme, #s 4, 10, and 19. And for you, #22 and 29. (Let me know if you want more asks and I'll send one for the other two, too!)

:D!!! Thank you so much for these and sorry it took a bit of time for me respond. I kinda went overboard with ninety percent of the questions. ^^;; For anyone curious, the questions are from this ask game too~ It’s cute, so reblog it and have fun!

4. Their favorite physical feature on each other?

Thyme would die for Oleander’s smile and his tooth gap, oh my god!! I will never be able to stress this enough. Thyme always has had a thing for teeth but he really digs people who have imperfect teeth, like crooked ones and teeth gaps and the like, especially when they smile all bright too. Oleander isn’t honestly much into bright smiles, but he smirks like a goddamn boss and his tooth gap just peeks out and it kills Thyme every time. It’s goddamn beautiful & he will fight everyone who says otherwise! o:

And I wanna say ‘awkward natural charm’ for Oleander because he’s kinda endlessly fascinated by the way Thyme holds himself. But! I’ll go with his eyes for Olea because he dearly loves Thyme’s mismatched eyes too. He has one albino pink eye and the other is this deep dark brown color but unless it’s during one of the Icarus meetings, he tends to cover up as his pink eye. It’s one of the signs of his burn. But Oleander thinks they look so frickin’ cool! *o*!! Even putting colors aside, Thyme is just so expressive and bright and it definitely carries into his eyes effortlessly too, all that love and warmth and joy. You can just see the whole of the universe within them and it’s a crime that he tries to hide them behind contracts and dark sunglasses.

Like Oleander knows that Thyme is uncomfortable showing them at times and he definitely respects that, but he also really wants to burn all the sunglasses that boy owns. >:(! Your eyes and existence are beautiful, Thyme, deal with it!

10. Do they have pet names for each other?

Haha! They should have pet names but not really?? Oleander isn’t much of a nickname person in general and Thyme is so a ‘romantically calls you dude, platonically calls you babe’ kind-of guy. I think if they ever stumbled over a set of names, they’d be ridiculous and semi-ironic.

Sugarpop would be a good one though. o:

19. Describe how they communicate.

TT___TT!! This is my favorite question, ngl, and I might’ve gone overboard answering it.

Okay! At a glance, it probably would seem like they’d be complete shit at communicating at first, just given how much they differ in their styles. Oleander is sarcastic and blunt and a bit callous at times, and he does his absolute best to keep everything on a surface level. He’d much rather be thought of as shallow then to let people see his depth without his permission. Thyme instead is stupidly sincere, absolutely wears his heart on his style and is sympathetic towards people, all people even ones he’s just met. He has …kinda puppy-dog tendencies with how affectionate he’ll be around people too.

Buuuut! they’re actually really open with each other and get along amazingly well. Part of this is because like, while Olea is pretty blunt, he’s definitely not tactless. He knows when to shut up and likewise with Thyme, he knows when not to push and when to tone down a bit. They’re also both giant frickin’ dorks?? Like I also can not stress how much of their time they spend just like, sending each other stupid jokes and even dumber memes. So much time!! Is Spent!! Doing this!! Like Kingcup starts a little group chat for them all after Thyme joins Icarus so they can talk easier outside of meetings ( like ‘hey, I won’t be able to make it tonight’ and junk like that). But Olea and Thyme just ruined it~~ instantly~~ with the memes~~ She refuses to ever open it up again because it’s just nonsense and stupidity and that’s fine when it’s just Olea but not when it’s the two of them. :’l

And when they stop joking around to have a more serious talk, their differences actually help put them both at ease. Oleander doesn’t mind Thyme’s touchy-feely nature but when he’s talking about the past, it doesn’t do him any good to have that extra stimulation. And Thyme totally gets and respects that, so he’ll pull back until Olea is okay again, offering him a shit ton of emotional support in the process. And when it’s Thyme’s time to trudge through the muck, Oleander’s composed nature is kinda life-savior. Thyme has a lot of emotional support if he needs it, but having someone just let him vent?? With absolutely no judgement?? He definitely wants that more than another dose of empathy. Olea also makes an effort to be more physical too, mostly just like holding his hand or laying his head on his shoulder but that little extra presence helps let Thyme he isn’t alone, you know?

Sooooo. That’s kinda them in a rambly nutshell, lots of silly joking about and doing their bests to be there for each other in their own ways when the other needs it. /thumbs up

22. From the outside looking in, what is their dynamic like?

^^^ It them.

Okay! They’re friends. They’re definitely idiots in love. They joke around like loons until shit gets real, then they try to do their best to make the other one happy again. One of my favorite aspects of their dynamic though is how they seem like two halfs in a whole, but aren’t. Oleander is drawn to Thyme’s joyous ray of sunshine aura, but he’s also an extremely guilt-ridden Stepford Smiler with serious anxieties. Thyme has major heart eyes over Oleander’s unflappable rock act but it’s really just an act. He’s really unsure on even what he is, let alone who, and that’s dangerous line of thought of a kid who’s not entirely of the natural world. So, he just… pretends.

It’s really fun writing them learning more about each other and that not much changing their opinions. Oleander still likes Thyme’s need to bring a little extra joy into the world and Thyme loves how absolutely resolute Oleander is. It’s same things just in a new light~

29. What are your favorite moments that happen between them?

All of them!! ;;v;;!! I get really distracted writing them at times because I just wanna write all the scenes with them and let them be happy and sad and desperate and in love. I just really love them both, especially together.

But~ One of my favorite talkable moments in one of the first ones I kinda ever wrote for them, I guess?? Back in the early days when Icarus was just a weirdo book club, Kingcup and this other member of their club were debating over magic theories, as you do, and in the background Thyme and Oleander were just fuckin’ around, chucking stupid candy hearts each other.

They were supposed to be like a little bit of background favor but I just really really loved them in that moment. They were dorky and darling and that’s pretty much when I started shipping them. I really adored the idea of Oleander (who’d been around sullenly for years at that point) having this cute dorky boyfriend he can just screw around and be like an actual …kid with, and Thyme changed from this sarcastic bad boy to my little sunshine hopepunk nerd and I couldn’t be happier with that!

The moment still exists in the story because I basically refuse to give up them being dorks. It’s too endearing to me~

And thank you again for the questions!!

#merigreenleaf #thyme oxeye #icarus at midnight #and thanks again!!! :D #also long post #because it me #oleander wormwood #thymander

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brightlycoloredteacups · 7 years ago

Text

50 OTP things.

Answered the list form the 50 otp things. For my wonderful Brynhilda anon. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve given up on this a long time ago. Kisses love!

1. Who is the early bird/ Who is the night owl?

Brynhilda is the early bird. She wakes up at a ungodly hours when the world is quiet so she can sit and think. Ivar is the night owl, he sits up in bed and reads. Luckily, Brynhilda can sleep anywhere, so the lamp light doesn’t bother her.

2. Who is the big spoon/ Who is the little spoon?

They switch. Oftentimes though Brynhilda is the little spoon. She adores being cuddled. Her favorite thing is when Ivar presses kisses to the back of her neck. When she’s the big spoon, she squeezes Ivar as tightly as he’s comfortable with.

3. Who hogs the cover/ Who loves to cuddle?

Brynhilda hogs the covers for sure. She likes being wrapped up in them. Even after they’ve been together for years, she won’t share her covers. Ivar has his own set though, he’s fine. Ivar likes to cuddle with Brynhilda. During the summer, when she’s wrapped up in light blankets, he’ll still throw and arm around her and hold her.

4. Who wakes the other one up with kisses?

Brynhilda wakes Ivar up with kisses. When he has bad nights, she’ll kiss him below the belt, if you know what I mean.

5. Who usually has nightmares?

Brynhilda is the one with the nightmares. Usually Ivar is the one waking her up from it.

6. Who would have really deep emotional thoughts at the middle of the night/ Who would have them in the middle of the day?

Brynhilda has them during the day, as long as she’s still and thinking very hard. Ivar will have them at night. Neither of them bother the other with it, though, as they don’t see the point.

7. Who sweats the small stuff?

Ivar does. Brynhilda is more of a ‘sees the big picture’ kind of gal. She’s calm under pressure and doesn’t really bother her self with tiny details.

8. Who sleeps in their underwear (or naked)/ Who sleeps in their pajamas?

Both of them sleep in their underwear. After they’ve had sex though, obviously they’re naked.

9. Who makes the coffee (or tea)?

Ivar makes the coffee, Brynhilda makes the tea. Both of them drink equal amount of both though.

10. Who likes sweet/ Who likes sour?

Ivar lives for sweet things. Brynhilda could care less either way. She prefers fruits and veggies.

11. Who likes horror movies/ Who likes romance movies?

Both of them like horror movies. Romance irritates the shit out of them. Neither of them see the appeal.

12. Who is smol/ Who is tol?

Ivar is definitely the tol. When he first meets her on crutches, they’re both shocked at how short she really is. She only reaches his sternum.

13. Who is considered the scaredy cat?

Neither of them are really considered scaredy cats. They’re both pretty fearless. Though Ivar still gets nervous on open water.

14. Who kills the spiders?

Whoever sees the spider first.

15. Who is scared of the dark?

Neither of them.

16. Who is scared of thunderstorms?

Brynhilda gets nervous about storms, but she really isn’t afraid of them.

17. Who works/ Who stays at home?

Though they’re both working people, Ivar would be the one to stay at home. Brynhilda likes fighting way too much to stay at home and do nothing. She’s also a rather restless person.

18. Who is a cat person/ Who is a dog person?

Neither of them want animals. Though, if they had to, they’d get a cat.

19. Who loves to call the other one cute names?

Ivar likes to call Brynhilda cute names. She gets smiley and blushy when he does. When he’s in a particularly good mood he’ll get ridiculous with them.

20. Who is dominant/ Who is submissive?

They switch. Ivar is more often the dominant in the bed, but Brynhilda has her moments.

21. Who has an obsession (over anything)?

Ivar is the one that get’s obsessed with things. Whether it’s a television show, or a book , or a movie, he’s the one that is all or nothing.

22. Who goes all out for Valentine’s Day?

Brynhilda does. She makes all of Ivar’s favorite foods, and makes sure to load him up with chocolate. Though she doesn’t buy a card or takes him anywhere special.

23. Who asks who out on the first date?

Ivar would ask Brynhilda out first.

24. Who is the talker/ Who is the listener?

Brynhilda is the listener. When Ivar get’s obsessed with something, she’ll listen to him talk on and on about it. She’s not big on talking.

25. Who wears the other ones clothes?

Neither. Brynhilda doesn’t really take to wear Ivar’s clothing. She’s either naked or has her own shirt on. There was one time she had to rush around and wore Ivar’s shirt though.

26. Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?

Brynhilda is the one that eats healthy. While she does love her steak and potatoes, she’s often seen eating fruits and vegetables. Ivar is the one that eats all the junkfood. Though he doesn’t really get away with it when Brynhilda is around.

27. Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower?

Ivar has a habit of bathing with Brynhilda. So they take pretty long showers. Neither of them will sing though.

28. Who is the book worm?

Ivar by far. He reads constantly. Brynhilda doesn’t read too often, but sometimes, if Ivar has a favorite series, she’ll read it so they can talk about it.

29. Who is the better cook?

Ivar is. Because Brynhilda eats so much fruit, she doesn’t have to cook. She also likes her veggies more on the raw side.

30. Who likes long walks on the beach?

Brynhilda, she grew up near a beach.

31. Who is more affectionate?

Ivar by far. Brynhilda isn’t used to giving affection, must less receiving it, so she tends to squirm when it genuine. So Ivar gives it to her all he can. Especially at dinner with his family.

32. Who likes to have really long (deep) conversation?

Neither, they tend to let their actions speak for them. But if Ivar had an inclination, he’d bring a topic that meant a lot to him up to Brynhilda. She’d treat it seriously.

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?

Brynhilda would wear the ‘not guilty’ t-shit, Ivar wears ‘sin’

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?

Ivar would wear the ‘if lost return to Brynhilda’ Brynhilda’s would say, “I’m Brynhilda, you can keep him.”

35. Who goes overboard on the holidays?

Neither of them. Ivar hates Christmas and Brynhilda hates Halloween. In Viking times, Ivar goes all out on feast days. Brynhilda help him with his plans.

36. Who is the social media addict?

Neither are really social media addicts. They both have snap chat. Both have used it to tease the other.

37. Height difference or age difference?

Brynhilda is much, much shorter than Ivar. Ivar is older by a few months.

38. Who likes to star gaze?

Ivar does. Brynhilda will lay her head on his chest and sleep in his arms though.

39. Who buys cereal for the prize inside?

Brynhilda. Ivar likes sugar kids cereal anyway, but she’s endlessly amused with all the children’s toys they come up with. You don’t want to know how many happy meals she’s had to go through to get the amount she has today.

40. Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent?

Brynhilda would be considered the ‘fun’ one. She lets the children fight and wrestle and climb trees. Ivar is the one they keep quieter around.

41. Who cries during sad movies?

Neither.

42. Who is the neat freak?

Both of them are pretty neat. Brynhilda hates the sight of dirt and bugs in her house, but it’s probably because she was buried alive.

43. Who wins the stuffed animals at the carnival for the other one?

It depends on the game. Ivar wins at the shooting games, Brynhilda wins at the whack-a-mole games or the ‘how hard you can hit’ games.

44. Who is active/ Who is lazy?

Brynhilda is far more active than Ivar. She’s up before dawn, jogging, eating breakfast, and doing chores long before Ivar even thinks of stirring.

45. Who is more likely to get drunk?

Ivar is, Brynhilda doesn’t like the feeling of being drunk.

46. Who has the longer food order?

Ivar does. He adores ordering food. Brynhilda would rather have carrots and grapes. Though she does pack that away quite a bit.

47. Who has the more complex coffee order?

Again, Ivar does. He likes his coffee just so. Brynhilda could care less.

48. Who loses stuff?

Neither really. Brynhilda is good at keeping track of things, and so is Ivar.

49. Who is the driver/ Who is the passenger?

Brynhilda is the driver, Ivar is the passenger. Brynhilda needs certain control over things, and driving is one of them.

50. Who is the hopeless romantic?

In terms of the context of their relationship? Ivar is. He bends over backwards trying to be a good lover for Brynhilda, in his own way though. He spars with her for hours on end, and sails with her when they have free time. He also showers her with physical affection.

#brynhilda #ivar and brynhilda #ivar and oc #vikings #ivar the boneless

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douxbebearchives · 8 years ago

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Summer Q&A - Week Eight

A little switch up this week. We will be featuring a special question and giving everyone’s responses. Need to catch up on the previous weeks? Here you go.

Enjoy!

A favorite line or paragraph you’ve written:

cbssoapsgirl: “I know you. Don’t ever say I don’t know you. We spend every moment together inside and outside this campaign. I know you.”

CMW2 / @trumpetnista: The opening portion of Chapter 32 of Shattering Expectations. It’s sensual, it’s funny, and it’s also got an element of domesticity between Liv & Fitz that I’ve always loved and wished that we could get more of in canon. I’ve also written some pretty smut over the years, even in my early days of writing. I love to write about love & lovemaking is a part of it…as is fucking. Again, it depends on the pairing, the story, and my mood.

dafney64 / @terrieaster: From A Special Time, “I will never be satisfied by you Livy. Even if I got to have you every day five times a day, I will never have enough of you Olivia Caroline Pope.”

DayDreamLover / @daydreamloverslane: She treated him to a painfully wide smile as they bumped foreheads and noses. “If it all went to hell and I found myself jobless we’d be okay, right?” (Up Close And Personal)

FG3OP16: “Sometimes when life throws you a Jar, you make jam.”

Glamour02 / @glamour02: "Everything you need is inside of you…remember that.“ He spoke confidently and Fitz immediately saw the impact his words had on her. She obviously heard them before and a surge of gratitude filled him completely.

They walked him to the door and both thanked him again. Olivia kissed his cheek farewell and Fitz shook his hand again. A secret service agent opened the front door, ready to escort Michael to the car. Fitz watched him step on the porch and turn to face them once more before finally leaving.

"We all have the right to choose the life we want to live…decide what we will and will not tolerate. That’s the legacy I want to leave my children.” (No Escaping Him)

IWrite4Olitz / @iwrite4olitz: This changes all the time, and I have different ones for each work, haha. By the time anyone reads this, it likely will have changed again. (There are some things I’ve written for the next Pas De Deux update that might upstage this, I dunno)…but I think this paragraph from Olivia’s point of view in Chapter 9 is my current favorite, It shows their dynamic so well, I think, and is quintessentially the Olitz I recognize no matter the writer, or whether the story is AU or canon: She shivered, unnerved to be in his head, to see for herself the irrefutable evidence that he knew her. He knew her and she hadn’t told him a single thing. (Pas De Deux)

Labellebeaucoup / @labellebeaucoup: “Congratulations, governor,” Olivia said, smiling at Fitz. He took the glass from her hand, sitting it on the coffee table, before yanking her into his lap. In front of the crowded room of his campaign workers, his lips found hers – kissing her deeply and without restraint.

“Holy shit,” Toby deadpanned at the cheers of his coworkers, watching his boss.” (I don’t write light-hearted moments like this much and loved the way this one turned out)

Lauryn Joleigh: “My heart was so sure but my brain was doing everything it could to protect it.” (Adorned)

LiveLoveInLaughter / @livelovelaughter531: He loved her and he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d fight for her. It was a heady feeling, knowing she had him by her side until time ran out. She clutched tightly at his fingers, she’d be damned to hell and darkness before she’d let him go. – “The Beauty of the Rain” (Once Upon a Time)

Lynalexandria / @lynalexandria: Olivia carefully climbed out of her window and sat in the window sill, looking down at Fitz warily as he planted his feet in the grass.

‘You’re going to catch me?’ she asked softly, not wanting to draw any attention to them.

‘And then I’m going to kiss you senseless.’ he said as he held his arms up higher for her.

MrMsWell: “I’m taking my wife on a honeymoon.” I knew for a long time that would be the ending of The Game Plan. It was quite satisfying to finally write it.

MzMocha / @artsychica2012: “Fitz’s lips were soft, warm yet they quickly turned fierce as Olivia began to kiss him back. Her body acted before she could think about the wisdom of it - and that was the wisest thing of all. The strength of their rising feelings - both emotional and physical - began to weave a web that spiraled around them - and caught within, Olivia stopped thinking at all. Emotions freed of rhyme and reason overrode common sense and logic, leaving only want and need in its place. And love that was once lost, filled all the spaces in between.” (Even Lovers Drown)

NoLove10 / @allshipscanon123: “You’re exactly what I’ve wished for my whole life.” It’s from my story Epiphany. It’s actually a teaser from upcoming updates.

OliviaLovesFitz8: Hmmm.. probably the deep/honest conversations between Madison and Fitz. (Falling Slowly)

Olitzalltheway / @olitzalltheway1 : “Vermont suits her dad, don’t screw it up this time” Karen to Fitz.

RGBzMom: I don’t know…I like to make Fitz say checkmate. It always makes me giggle when I do it. I think it is because Shonda has refused to allow the character to maximize his obvious intelligence to his advantage. I am supposed to believe that Mellie is smarter than Fitz-please…I always like when I am able to have Olivia admit/acknowledge/address her fear and weakness. To make her vulnerable and allow her to benefit from dropping the mask is always a good day.

Reader575 / @reader575la: “Big talk coming from an unproven commodity. What makes your fortress worth scaling the wall?” Olivia walks around the table to whisper in Fitz’s ear. “My walls have never been breached”, she breaths with her warm minty breath. She licks his ear for added effect. (The Challenge) Fitz swallows hard, he’s temporarily loses the power of speech. Accept my challenge and let’s see if you have what it takes to capture my flag.

Sucker4Scandal: Olivia ~ Please don’t think about that night ever again. We were both wrong. But it doesn’t matter anymore. You are going to be my wife and that was worth waiting my whole life for. I knew you’d want the box. I love you endlessly. Fitz (We Can Figure It Out)

We hope you enjoyed this special edition. Some of the authors did not include quotes - they would love for you to decide. :)

Next week, we will feature more answers from our authors, and hopefully include new participants! If that includes you, email us - [email protected]

#Summer Q&A #week eight #Olitz authors #Olitz fanfiction #the written word #Doux Bebe Archives

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betta-resplendent · 7 years ago

Note

Flannel and fog, for the Autumn asks :)

Autumn Asks~

This is about to get long so I’m so sorry. Long stories under the cut, just in case lmao.Flannel: Have you ever gone on a bad date? Yes and no. I regret staying with him as long as I did. It was a big red flag.Fog: How well do you think you’d do in a zombie apocalypse scenario? Oh my god not well at all. Honestly I’d probably hole up for a week or two to see if it blows over quickly, and if zombies don’t eat me I’d probably find the nearest painless way to die tbh. Nope nope nope.

Flannel: Have you ever gone on a bad date?

OOF. Right out the gate! I…Hm. This is complicated. So, the answer is both ‘yes’ and ‘no’. Yes, because it was a s h i t t y time, no, because it…technically wasn’t a date. So, my first (and only) boyfriend was - and still is, he’s married now and I’d feel bad for her if she wasn’t ALSO a bit of a narcissist so they’re a perfect fit, not that I’m bitter - a complete prick. He was self centered and rude. I could never say anything about something I was interested in without him immediately changing the subject. He’d talk about his previous ‘exploits’ with a classmate of ours and would even go into great detail about their endeavors. When I told him about being assaulted when I was younger by a girl he knew and talked about/to a lot and that I didn’t want to talk about her at all, he proceeded to say “Well she lives in st louis now so it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

And that’s BEFORE he ‘forbade me’ to have back surgery. This was h i g h s c h o o l. Bitch I do what I want.

ANYWAY, that’s all to set the scene for our ‘date’, if you can call it that. I invited him out to the Marigold Festival (TOPICAL) with my mother and I, and our friends. He called it a date, I…didn’t, but it was as close to a ‘date’ as I’d get so fuck it, it’s a date. So, first off the moment we got there he did nothing but complain about the heat. It’s September, early September, it’s a perfectly clear day so the sun is BRUTAL, plus we were surrounded by concrete. The rest of us ignore him and cross the street and head out into the crowd. He complains about the crowd. He complains about the crafts. He talks endlessly about our friend ‘Amber’, who isn’t there, and who we’d already fallen out with. I’ve got a cane, and he decided it’d be funny to mock me by offering to buy me a walking stick from one of the vendors. When I asked why he said “well that one isn’t very cool”. Tbf, no, it wasn’t. But it was all my family could a f f o r d, so shove it.

The whole time, what was supposed to be super fun and enjoyable ended up being utter misery for me. I don’t know how everybody else felt, but after that it was more of a ‘stick it out and pretend to be happy’ sort of scenario. We finally got to leave (after I was guilted by him when I bought a cute little plushy because I ‘clearly didn’t have the money for it’), mom bought us all lunch, and most everybody went home.

Except him. He apparently brought a copy of TES: Oblivion with him to play on an xbox 360 he’d let me borrow. He let me play through the tutorial, but if I even d a r e d move away from the path he wanted me to travel, he’d be insistent that it wasn’t ‘the right way to play’. I got frustrated and just handed the controller to him to play, and eventually started playing Fatal Frame 3 on my ps2. We kept conversation going through our respective games, and the m o m e n t it got fairly normal he said, and I quote: “Why do you play that stupid ghost shit?”

It really bothered me tbh. Like, I spent my birthday money to get him Halo. I bargain hunted to find posters and figurines for his birthday, got him his favorite chocolate and other candies, bought him books and MADE him several cards and other things with what I had available…and he slammed every single thing that I liked. Video games, anime, books, movies, tv shows…anything, he slammed it down every chance he got and wouldn’t even let me voice my opinion on things before interrupting me and speaking above me. We had a lot of ‘dates’ like that, but that one’s the one that stands out the most. I’m not a great person either but j e s u s. To this day I just don’t voice my opinions IRL to anybody outside my small circle for fear of somebody doing that. He and his wife tried to be friendly with me recently when I went to a baby shower for a mutual friend, but I wasn’t having it tbh. I just ignored them.

OOF sorry for the novel lmfao!

#not fish #vankisan #ask me anything #dates #assault

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likeshipsonthesea · 8 years ago

Text

An Always to Rely On

Nursey Week Day Two: Simplicity

When Nursey knocks, it isn’t Shitty that answers the door. It’s a young blond guy who’s taller than Nursey. He grins, but his eyebrow quirks up, confused. It’s evident than not many people knock on the door of this hockey frat house at seven o’clock on a Thursday.

“Sup, man?” the guy says, seemingly friendly.

“Uh, is Shitty here?” This is stupid, so stupid. Who knows if Shitty is even home? Even if he is, why would he bother to entertain Nursey?

“Yeah, he’s up in his room.” He starts to move aside to let Nursey in, but then pauses. “Uh, how do you know him?”

A part of Nursey almost wants to laugh at that. How does he know Shitty Knight? He knows him loud and brash, without a filter to hear of and a tendency to take off his clothes at inopportune moments. He knows Shitty soft and quiet, half-high but mostly just emotional, in the dark of midnight when everything seems far away but heavy at the same time. He knows Shitty like a lifeline, like a lighthouse in a dense fog, like the one good thing out of all the rest.

“We went to Andover together,” Nursey says. Then, when the guy seems less likely to let him in at this statement, he adds, “We’re friends.” Are we still? Nursey wonders, agonizes over, hopes.

“Oh, uh, cool. Up the stairs, first hallway on the left, first door on the right.” He moves aside, letting Nursey in. “I’d knock first; he might be naked.”

“Yeah,” Nursey says. “Thank you.” He heads inside, following the man’s directions and trying to ignore the group of guys sitting on the couch. Too much, too intimidating at this moment. He finds the mentioned door and hopes that it’s Shitty’s and not some random guy’s. He knocks.

“Come in, brah!” Shitty’s voice calls back. Nursey sighs a breath of relief and pushes it open. Shitty is lying on a bed, boxers and socks the only clothing in sight, and when he looks up to see Nursey he grins so widely that Nursey feels the air in the room making space for it. “Nursey! My main brah. Come ‘ere!” He stands, pushing his laptop off of his lap, and grabs Nursey in a tight, wonderful hug.

“Hey Shits,” Nursey whispers into Shitty’s shoulder, closing his eyes and just relishing in the warmth.

“You fucker.” Shitty pulls back, still beaming. “You didn’t tell me you were visiting.”

“It was a last minute kind of thing.” Nursey shrugs. He’s always considered himself to be good at hiding his emotions, but Shitty narrows his eyes at whatever he sees on Nursey’s face. Nursey doesn’t know if it’s because he’s shit at concealing anything or just shit at lying to Shitty.

For a moment, Nursey is terrified that Shitty is going to ask about it, the reason why he’s here. He doesn’t know how to verbalize it yet. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Shitty asks. But Shitty, because he’s Shitty, doesn’t ask. The suspicious expression on his face disappears after a moment and he grins again.

“It’s great to see you, man. We haven’t talked since, what, July?” Shitty scrunches up his face. “Shit, that long?”

“Hans’ Fourth party,” Nursey says. “Well, his dads’ party.” The Fourth of July party hosted by The Hans Casterman was the event of the summer, and Nursey, as a teammate of Hans’ son, Hans Jr., was one of the lucky few who got an invitation. As did his parents and Shitty and his parents. Before the fireworks started, all the kids grabbed some liquor more expensive than any liquor needs to be and went to the roof. There they played a mix between Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare that ended with another one of Nursey’s teammates- Jonesy- stripping angrily in an attempt to prove his dick wasn’t the tiniest on the team.

Shitty laughs, probably at the memory, and shakes his head. “As much of a crapbag that kid is, he throws good parties.” Nursey nods, eyes going down at that. Hans, at the first July 4th party of his that Nursey went to, asked Nursey if he “even celebrated the Fourth of July” because he was “like, foreign”. “C’mon dude, let’s play Screw.”

Nursey manages to grin at that. Not even the worst of days can stand up to a good game of Egyptian Rat Screw.

“I brought some of Jiggy’s stash if you wanna make it more interesting,” Nursey suggests as they sit down on Shitty’s floor. Not that he feels like getting high at the moment, but he figures that Shitty might enjoy it more. He has no reason to be entertaining some high school kid now that he’s at college.

Shitty waves him off, rummaging through his bedside table drawer. “Nah, we don’t need that.” He pulls out an old looking deck of cards and turns back to Nursey. He smiles. “Let’s keep it simple.”

Simple, Nursey thinks as he watches Shitty shuffle. Oh how I long for simplicity.

When Shitty’s finished shuffling, he splits the deck and hands half of it to Nursey. Shitty starts, flipping over a fairly useless four, and off they go.

“How is Jiggy, by the way?” Shitty asks, then curses as Nursey flips over a Jack. Shitty returns with a seven and grumbles as Nursey takes the pile.

“Good. Market’s getting bigger. He’s got half the school buying from him and I’m pretty sure he’s giving some to Harrison as security.” Shitty slaps a sandwich and takes the pile, but there were no face cards in it, so Nursey doesn’t mind.

“Totally. I saw Harry and Camilleri smoking up behind the gym my junior year.” Shitty curses loudly and colorfully as Nursey slaps a pair of kings. Nursey smiles at the creativity of the expletives. “How’s my love?”

Nursey snorts, flipping over an ace. “Actually he seems kind of bored since your stunt in February.” Last February, when Shitty came back to Andover to visit for Nursey’s birthday, he snuck into Headmaster McGuire’s office and stole all of his underwear. Then he strung them up in the main hall like a banner, the tightie-whities being the centerpiece. The vein in McGuire’s forehead nearly popped when he saw them.

“Ah, I’ll have to come back to visit.” On Shitty’s fourth card, he puts down a queen and sighs a breath of relief. Nursey gives back a six and a nine, so Shitty takes the pile.

“You should,” Nursey says, and tries not to make it seem like he’s desperate. Needy people don’t keep friends well, he’s learned.

“I will,” Shitty says, pausing in putting down another card to look Nursey in the eye. “I promise.”

There’s a conflict in Nursey’s body when he hears that word. Promise. Broken comes to mind first, if it was a word association game, but it’s not. Promises were maybes, when he was younger. If his parents had promised to come home early, it would be a toss-up if they’d walk through the door before nine, claiming that nine was early in Beijing, where they were doing business. Promises turned Nursey into the master of words he is today- he learned, through trial and error, that to get them home on time he had to make them promise to be home before seven New York time. But by the time he had learned this, they stopped promising so easily.

When he got to Andover, he met Shitty. Shitty, whose father had connections, whose grandmother was on the committee for every major association ever, whose grandfather probably owned his own country. His mother, well, she was an anomaly, but knew how to conduct herself in society anyway, and was very well read and a, um, writer. At least, this was what Nursey’s parents told him when he brought up Shitty being one of his new friends at school.

Shitty was nothing like Nursey expected him to be. He yelled at one of the other freshmen players at the first practice for saying something homophobic. At the first party, he went around to the new recruits and made sure they weren’t drinking too much. After a couple kids in the grade above his started making comments about Nursey being an “affirmative action” kid, Shitty punched one in the face even though Shitty has about zero knowledge on how to fight. When he turned back to Nursey, mouth bloody from the responsive hit, he grinned.

“Why’d you do that?” Nursey had asked, still afraid that one of the douchebag’s friends would take a swing at him, next.

“I’ve got your back, man. Promise.” It was one of those moments, the kind a literary kid dreamed of. The moment when a word and a definition finally made sense. When you understood it well enough to use it yourself. Every time Nursey made a promise, he would remember to be as stubbornly present and honest as Shitty was. He would remember the feeling of safety, like a blanket locked around his shoulders, like an always. And it is an always. Sitting here, now, on Shitty’s floor playing Egyptian Rat Screw, is proof of that.

“Thank you,” Nursey says after a long pause. Shitty flips over his card, then Nursey does his, and on they go.

It goes on endlessly, as Egyptian Rat Screw usually does. Nursey forgets about the time, the reason he came here, everything. Shitty keeps asking about the old crew even though they go through the ones he actually likes within the first half hour. He tells Nursey about Samwell, how awesome everyone here is. Talks about these two freshmen d-men who are basically soulmates, finishing each other’s sentences and shit like that. Mentions a guy named Johnson who lives across the hall and talks about “how weird it is to be in an outside narrative that could possibly be canon but isn’t really” all the damn time. Raves about his captain, Jack Zimmermann, and how fucking great of a guy he is. His voice gets softer, sweeter, when he speaks about his new manager, Lardo.

There’s a knock at the door, but not the one Nursey came in through.

“Come in!” Shitty calls. The door to the bathroom pops open and actual Jack Zimmermann pokes his head in.

“It’s late, Shits, you should-” Jack cuts himself off when he sees Nursey. “Oh, hi. I’m Jack.”

“Nursey,” Nursey says. “Uh. Hi.”

“It’s getting late,” Jack says, looking back at Shitty for a moment. “You two should get to sleep. We have practice in the morning.” He nods at Nursey, once, and then disappears behind the door.

“Oh, wow, it is late.” Nursey looks at the clock. 2:05. “Count your cards, then we’ll hit the sack.” Nursey has twenty-seven. Shitty has twenty-five. He laments his loss as he tosses a pair of sweatpants to Nursey, then gets in his bed. It’s not huge, but it fits the two of them well enough. Shitty turns off the light and they both stare up at Shitty’s ceiling, silent.

“Did you hear about Jamie?” Nursey says quietly, half-hoping that Shitty didn’t hear him.

“Chatty? No. What happened?”

“Got disowned.” Shitty sucks in a quick breath, but even the shortness of it can’t hide its shakiness.

James Chadwick was a sweet blond boy with a laugh that scrunched up his eyes. He laughed so much that it took a month for Nursey to figure out his eye color. He’s two years older than Nursey, left Andover for college in August. He’s always wanted to be an artist. He’s good at it, too. Damn good. He’s selling pieces already at eighteen, though he’s not well known. His parents- mother the CEO of a major publishing house and his father an executive at a company that sells soaps- always wanted him to go into business, like them.

Two days ago, Nursey’s mom mentioned offhand that the Chadwicks had disowned that creative son of theirs. She had said creative like it was a dirty word. He called Jamie up and asked about it. It was true; he had told them that he was quitting college and moving to California because there was an opening at a low-level comic company that was willing to hire him as an artist. It wasn’t what he was aiming for, but it was a start, and college wouldn’t help him in his ambitions, he had decided. His parents hadn’t taken it well.

When Nursey said he was sorry that it had happened, Jamie had laughed bitterly and said, “It was worth it for the looks on their faces when I told them I was gay.” Jamie had also been Nursey’s first boyfriend. But that wasn’t what had made Nursey take a car all the way to Samwell. Jamie may not need money for a college degree, but Nursey knew that he would.

“They found out he was gay?” Shitty asks, because he doesn’t think about the creative thing. His mother is a writer; anything he wants to do will be accepted.

“No. That he was an artist.” Nursey almost laughs at how stupid it sounds. He almost cries at how familiar it feels. He does neither. It hurts, still.

Shitty doesn’t say anything for a while. It gives Nursey space to think about his own situation. He wonders if his parents would even care enough to disown him. As long as he didn’t make them look bad, he’s sure he could do whatever he wanted. They could lie to their friends and say he was going into business, or law maybe.

But maybe they would care. Maybe they’d yell, maybe they’d react. There is a small part of Nursey that wants that. Wants a reaction. Wants emotion. Wants something. But he’s never liked being yelled at, so he doubts he’d actually enjoy that kind of moment. He just- he doesn’t know what would happen. What will happen. None of it is simple, the situation, being his parents’ child. He wishes it was so hard that he feels the strength of it in his chest.

“If they disown you, I’ll pay for your college,” Shitty says eventually.

“Shitty-”

“No, I’m serious.” Shitty sits up, pulling the blanket with him. Nursey sits up, too, and pulls his knees into his chest, staring at Shitty from over the tops of them. “My mom loves you, she could totally convince my dad to pay for it. And-and even if she can’t, I’ll do it myself. I’ll be a kickass lawyer. I’ll make bank. It’s that simple, I’ll do it, I promise.”

And there it is. The stubbornness of a promising Shitty Knight has never been a maybe in Nursey’s life. It’s cemented now, Nursey can feel it. Despite the improbability, despite everything that could go wrong, he knows it will work. Because Shitty promised. Because it’s that simple.

#nursey #derek nurse #nurseyweek #check please #angst #also #happiness #friendship #and #shitty #shitty knight #my fic #i didn't plan on giving my nursey week fics long ass names #but somehow it's happened #seriously guys this week is going to be so sad #and so angsty #and have lots of shitty knight #and andover

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