#edit: nevermind this is staying it’s been a few days and i still feel like this
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sopuu · 1 year ago
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toby makes me go insane with a piece of green grass - a saga
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heartkaji · 2 months ago
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[ ★ ⸻ @maiinoclock ]
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★ OVERVIEW
hi !! omg people acc simp for shidou 😟/j anyway you and shidou’s relationship would be so chaotic i think 😭 i feel like you guys are that one couple breaking up over the smallest things, and even as exes yall still have no idea what ‘no contact’ means. like, yall would be less than two weeks into the break up and shidou’s already calling your line asking you to link 🤦‍♀️ at first you always say no, but unfortunately you’re gonna give up sooner or later 🧍‍♂️ idk it’s just smth about the way he calls you cute nicknames ig 💘
Q5 — WHAT DO OTHERS THINK ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP ?
EVERONE thinks you guys are toxic. or a dangerous match. or both. sae’s waiting for the moment you realize this man has been gay all along (dw girl you never will ! but he definitely swings in more than one way.) anyway, every week you two are breaking up over the dumbest shit and your girl friends are TIRED of hearing it. everyday it’s “oh i broke up with him cuz he was liking some bitch’s posts” and then the next day it’s “nevermind guys we’re back together again.” safe to say your girls are sick and tired. truth is, you and shidou simply cannot stay away from each other. no matter how intense your fights get you always find a way back to one another, and ngl your mates (and shidou’s) are tired of it.
charles doesn’t take yall seriously either. he loves you actually, you’re his favorite ex of shidou (or girlfriend, depends on which day of the week it is) but even he doesn’t entertain shidou’s rants about you anymore. he used to LOVE the gossip, but now he just rolls his eyes.
“yall will be back together by tuesday, give it a rest gang.”
Q12 — WHAT DO THEY NOT LIKE ABOUT YOU ?
your trust issues (which are 100% not your fault btw!!) you were actually really trusting initially, always giving shidou the benefit of the doubt. but shidou got an inch and took a mile. he’s never actually cheated, but you always catch him in some girl’s likes or tiktok comments saying “lemme eyp” 💀💀 GIRL IM SO SORRY but like this is shidou 😭 also he’s definitely the kind of guy who reposts hot girls on his fyp i fear 💔 anyways once u confronted him abt all that it stopped, but you occasionally catch him in a girl’s likes from time to time. stuff like that is usually the cause of your fights, and it’s lead to you not trusting him. you’re skeptical about nearly everything he says and does and you NEVER cut him slack. you stand on business (sometimes). if he pisses you off he gets a good scolding followed by silence. no contact at all. but after a while you unfortunately miss your ex and find your way back 💔
honestly, i don’t think shidou does any of the stuff he does to be unfaithful or weird. i genuinely think he’s just been single for a long time and so his every media is just saturated with inappropriate pics of women 😭 you open his insta and his discovery pages is filled with bikini models and only fans promoters. sometimes he absentmindedly likes a few. if shidou were to reset his tiktok and insta trust me you’ll never catch him in anybody’s likes ever again. fuck is he looking for with randoms on the internet when he’s got you ?
Q13 — WHAT DO THEY LOVE MOST ABOUT YOU ?
how assertive you are. he finds it irresistibly hot when you tell him no. shidou’s no stranger to easy girls. back when he was still single, he had a whole roster of pretty girls who’d do anything he asked. but you’re different; you live by your own rules, you see shidou when it’s convenient for you, when you feel like it. sometimes, depending on your mood you treat him like he doesn’t even exist and heaven knows it drives him crazy. he’s not used to having a girl who treats him like an option and damn does it make him worship you. you’re kinda like sae in that aspect actually, and he’s every bit as obsessed with you as he is with the red head.
>> 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 <<
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© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload
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via-rant · 11 months ago
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"Wait... what?!" She asked as the words processed.
"Oh! Um... apologies for my sudden outburst, your heighness, but... what?" She asked again not knowing how to word it.
"Yes. My apologies. You must be confused. Let me explain."
--------
Leo was scared out of his mind when he took her away. God, he couldn't imagine what he wanted with her. What he would do to her. He only kept his mouth shut at the threat of being killed. He wanted to yell how she was still a child. He'd turn into a serial killer if they did anything to her. But didn't wanna die if he judged to soon. The guards might've been brutal but the king stared at Hazel in a sort of familiarity, sadness. Plus he spoke up against the guard before he did with the proding. So he stayed quiet.
"So... what to do with you?" The guard asked circling him.
"Look, man. I'm just-" He smacked him and grabbed his hair, forcing him to look at him.
"I didn't give you permission to speak, slut." He spat and Leo bit the inside of his cheek so hard, he swore he made a cold sore.
"The fact that your people are even given the time of day..."
"What would 'my people' include, exactly?" The guard lifted his knee and smashed his face against it, and then his head into the ground, holding him there. Leo sputtered for a second, head spinning, nose spewing blood.
"Freaks." He whispered in his ear. He forced him to stand up, and put him in an empty cell, hands still tied behind his back. The guard came in with him, closing the door behind him. God he hoped Hazel was okay.
--------
Hazel didn't know what to feel. She was a princess. For fucks sake, a princess. She has a dad, and a brother. Well... that's how normal people would react to it. She also felt a little excited. Suddenly she's rich, she wouldn't have to go hungry anymore, have to do bad things just for a small portion of food or certain hair products. Her or Leo... when she remembered Leo she bolted up and immediately went to look for him.
She ran all over the place until she ran into her... the king. She wasn't comfortable calling him "Dad". She wasn't sure if she was ever going to be.
"Hi... um... your heighness, I was wondering if you know where my friend went? You know, after you talked to me?"
"Oh, well... no. Perhaps you should talk to Dylan. The guard that handled you two earlier. I'm sure he knows." He assured. She sighed but nodded.
"Oh and Hazel. I... I know this is confusing but you can talk to me or your brother if you have any questions." He said and she relaxed a little. "Um... thanks."
She ran off again. She thought that if she did have any royal questions she could ask them. But she knew she could talk to Leo about the rest of it. God she needs to find Leo. Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo... Dylan! Right!
When she found him, he looked in a better mood than before, so she hoped she could talk to him better. Though a feeling of dread washed over her. She ignored it and walked right up to him.
"Um... hi. Dylan, right? So... kind of a big surprise I'm the princess. So, no need to put me in a cell, like you wanted to do an hour ago."
"Yeah, yeah, everyone been raving about it."
"Right, but about my friend, Leo. Where... is he?" It was quiet for a few seconds. "He ran away."
"... What?"
"Yeah... he heard of you being a princess and just... left when he had the chance. I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do really. He wasn't even invited here in the first place."
"But I wanted him here."
"Maybe it was jealousy." He said shrugging.
"Jealousy? Leo, doesn't get jealous. He gets... scared." And the realization hit her. He thought she was going to hurt him. She wiped her eyes.
"I'm going to find him. Let the king know."
------
Edited it lol
From this!!!
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"Leo!" Percy yelled running to him and hugging him. Leo smiled rolling his eyes but patting his back. "I wasn't gonna die Perc."
"No, but you could've!" He yelled flicking his forehead when he pulled away. "There's a such thing called thinking you know!"
"Right. And your schemes are much better."
"Mine are stealthier."
"Yeah, only because you wouldn't be able to face them if they caught you." Percy put him in a headlock and ruffled his hair. Leo struggled out of his grip and fixed his hair before sticking his tongue out at him, all with a giant smile.
"Okay, you 2 cut it out." Hazel said and Percy smiled hugging her too.
"No noogies for her huh? I see how it is Percy." He just laughed and rolled his eyes.
"Alright alright, you have what I asked for?" He asked and Leo smirked.
"Doubting the best criminals on the block? How cruel of you." He said giving him the bread he stole from the local baker. Percy and his mom really needed all the help they could get, and the two of them were master thievs. Of course, Sally knew nothing about it. They didn't want her to worry about his safety 24/7. They could handle it.
As a benefit, they have a seat at their table if they need it now. After trying to steal some of their food about a year ago, she felt for them and let them sit at their table. They weren't well off, but they had enough. They were always like that. They help them when they need it just like they do for them.
But they go on missions to help each other, mostly. They can't stay at their place and they all know that. They only have enough for the four of them - Estelle as the 4th - and the occasional guests. They understood.
So they steal what they can.
Him and Hazel were like siblings. Her and his family were close family friends for a while until Hazels mom went bezerk for some unknown reason. But Leos Mom kept contact, as she had a connection to Hazel and wanted to make sure she was okay. Her and Leo hung out a lot because of it.
Then Leo lived with her for a little bit after his mom died. They resorted to thievery before Mari died because she refused to go to the store and they ran out of money at that point. When she did die, her body found unmoving in the living room with pills everywhere, they promised never to leave each other.
---------
"What is this?" Hazel asked looking at the piece of paper. Her and Leo got caught but actually caught this time. They had no escape. Especially after they got tranquilized. The guard looked at her and sighed.
"The king requests your presence."
"The king?"
"Yes. Just you though. The other rat can stay here." Hazel glared.
"No."
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, witch. Everyone knows about your mother. How much she influenced you." He said and she still glared but now with tears in her eyes. Leo immediately came to her defense.
"Listen here, rich-bitch! You-"
"Great. The murderer is talking." Leo felt bad for a second until Hazel grabbed his hand. Leo took a breath.
"I'm not going unless he's going."
"How sweet. The witch protecting the slut." He said and Hazel clenched her fists while Leo felt tears in his eyes.
"But fine. Anything to keep this going." He said and had them follow him to the prison transport.
"Leo?"
"Yeah?"
"If the king wants us..." She didn't need to continue. He knew what she meant. What does he want with us?
He took a breath. "We'll get out of this."
------
I love this, I love this, I love this, I love this, I love thiiiisssss!!
Tags: @moa-broke-me @im-always-lost-in-a-book
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egcdeath · 4 years ago
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act natural
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pairing: steve rogers x reader
summary: sometimes, you just have to share the bed. 
word count: 2.4k
warnings: fluff, sharing a bed, idiots in love, cheesy
a/n: this is really just an excuse for me to write a lot of self indulgent bants, but it’s also a part of @stargazingfangirl18’s soft!dark challenge, and i decided to write something soft and use the prompt of only having one bed! (p.s. i like did not edit this at all so if a few words are used a lot pls forgive me) 
Dinner at the safehouse was finally wrapping up after a long day of getting your ass beat by an angry android and a few enhanced teenagers. You and everyone else around you seemed to be more than exhausted from the extensive day of revisiting deeply repressed traumas, and petty arguments between teammates over who was truly at fault for every predicament you found yourselves in.
You took a long and final swig from a beer bottle, glancing up to Bruce and Nat as they stood up and pushed in their chairs, retiring for the night. 
“Thanks for hosting us, Laura,” Natasha offered, grabbing her plate from the dinner table, and dropping it off in the dishwasher.
“Of course, guys. Any time,” she gave a half smile to her friend, then looked back at the table, where everyone else had taken the memo, and found themselves somewhere in the process of leaving the table, or grabbing their dishes, “but before you all go, I wanted to warn you that someone else is gonna have to share a room tonight.”
You glanced over at Steve, who was on your left, and Tony, who was sat at the head of the table. You and Steve shared an awkward chuckle at the thought of being in the same bed, not even considering the similarly uncomfortable situation of sharing a bed with Tony. 
“I think I’ll be rooming alone. These two lovebirds can share,” Tony chided before either of you even had a chance to think of a response. You looked back over at Steve, whose cheeks were currently dusted with a light shade of pink, and the bigger man quickly looked away from you.
“Tony, you know we are not- you know what, nevermind,” you huffed, deciding the argument was not worth it. 
Tony shook his head as he dropped his dishes off in the dishwasher. “So no objections?” he asked teasingly, eyeing you both with a smirk on his way back from the kitchen. “Why am I not surprised?” You could’ve sworn you heard Clint and Fury laughing to themselves before excusing themselves from the table, and dispursting though the house.
Besides the slight humiliation of being teased for your situation, you weren’t too concerned about the act of spending the night, or next few nights with Steve. You and Steve were friends, or something like that. Just a few pals with crushes that you refused to admit to each other (or yourselves).
Pushing this thought aside, you grabbed the neck of your empty beer bottle, along with a few pieces of silverware and marched off to the mechanical cleaner yourself. You dropped off the things that needed to be cleaned, tossed your bottle in the recycling bin, then went to turn away when Steve grabbed your arm, automatically catching your attention. 
“Is this okay with you?” He asked, letting his vice grip on your arm go.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you upstairs,” you muttered before speeding off, and heading upstairs where you strolled into the only vacant room, with the door wide open, and both your own and Steve’s duffle bags on the floor. 
You made a mental note to thank whoever brought them in (probably Laura), and dug through your bag to find something even slightly comfortable to sleep in, eventually settling on an oversized shirt and your favorite cotton shorts. 
You had just barely finished changing in the tiny closet when you heard the soft click of the room door, notifying you of Steve’s arrival. You slid open the closet door, and made a beeline for the bed, flopping onto the left side, and reaching for your phone as a distraction. 
“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Steve asked, searching through his own bag until he found the only clean comfortable pair of pants he had in there, that just happened to be a jokey Christmas gift donned with a red white and blue color scheme, and graphics of mini shields on it.  
“What the hell, Steve. Of course not,” you set your phone down so that you could get a better look at him. “We probably have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” You could live with that excuse, especially considering that it would not be very becoming of you to tell your crush that missing an opportunity to sleep in the same bed as him feels like a federal crime. 
He stood up from his squatting position, squeezing into the tight space of the closet so that he could change into the corny pants, and finally get out of his clothes from the day, “I just didn’t want to make things weird.”
“Well, they won’t be as long as you stay on your side, okay?” You said petulantly, setting two pillows across the middle of the queen sized bed and attempting to ignore the excited butterflies in your stomach. 
“I will,” Steve responded, exiting the closet slipping into the right side of the bed cautiously, and looking at the wall that was facing him.
You glanced over at Steve, and when you caught wind of his shirtless torso, you couldn’t help but to look away with a warm face,“this is so awkward now,” you said after a beat. “Why couldn’t you have roomed with Tony?”
“Tony is the worst bed mate ever. Total blanket and pillow hog,” Steve chuckled, attempting to ease up some of the tension.
“You’re no saint either. I’ve heard you’re a cuddler,” you bantered back, allowing yourself one more glance at the man. Steve seemed to be having the same thought as you at the same time as you, as your eyes briefly met. 
It was uncomfortably silent in the room once more, and you reached over to your nightstand to turn off the bedside lamp, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Night, Steve,” you turned your back to the border of pillows, fell into a fetal position, and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that you’d be able to find some sort of peace after such a bizarre day. You tried not to dwell so much on the horrors you’d been forced to face earlier, and instead relied on the rhythmic breathing coming from the man next to you to ground you.
----
You weren’t sure when exactly you fell asleep, but a jolting of your bed, and a bit of a commotion coming from somewhere in your room pulled you away from your unsettling dreams.
Blinking yourself awake, you uncurled your body, and rolled over to look at Steve, whose legs were thrown over the edge of the bed while he panted heavily.
“Steve?” you slurred sleepily, “you ‘kay?”
“’m fine,” he yawned.
“Well you woke me up,” you mumbled, throwing your head back against a pillow.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was having a shitty dream anyway.”
“Really? I was too,” Steve refused to look at you, staring blankly at the wall.
“So tell me about it,” you hummed.
“It’s just… I keep thinking about how I missed out on so many things from the past. I could’ve been happy, living out my days in a semi-peaceful and familiar world. Not anything like this.”
You sat up as you listened, pushing aside a pillow from the border you’d constructed to move closer to Steve and set a reassuring hand on his back.
“I guess I just wish that I was there. With everyone and everything I used to know.”
“But it’s not all bad, right?” you offered, and Steve shrugged before looking down. 
 “I’m sorry. I really am. I know that I’ll never truly understand that, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. You’re here now, and you have no other choice but to make the best of it. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but if you spend all of your time in the present lamenting about what things could’ve been in the past, you’re just gonna be miserable forever,” you rambled sleepily, words slurring occasionally. 
“Your experience is so unique, so I could be getting this all wrong, but there are plenty of good things here in the now. I mean, a world without the internet? I don’t know if that’s a world worth living in,” you chuckled softly, and were joined in your quiet laughter by the man on the other side of your bed.
“Seriously, though. I know you can’t control your dreams, but maybe your subconscious is letting you know that it’s okay to let go. Of like, the past. It might just be time for you to move on and be happy. I’m sure that Peggy and everyone else from your past would’ve wanted that for you too.” In the dark, you saw the silhouette of Steve’s head nodding. 
“You always know what to say, huh?” he asked, kicking his legs back over onto the bed while you scooted back over into your previous space. 
“I’m like half asleep right now, Steve. If you asked me to repeat half of what I just said, I would not know what to say,” you giggled. 
“You wanna talk about your dream?” Steve asked in a concerned tone. 
“Mmm, I actually just wanna go to sleep. As crazy as that may sound,” 
“Is there anything that I can do to help you not have another bad one?”
“Hmmm,” you pondered, becoming a bit more lethargic by the moment. “Spoon me?”
“As you wish,” Steve happily obliged, grabbing one of the pillows from the middle of the bed and adding it to his stash of pillows. 
You threw a pillow from the border between your knees, and received a strange look from Steve. “What? I heard it’s good for your back.” He still didn’t seem convinced. “Stop being so judgy and cuddle me already,” you murmured, turning your body so that you could lay on your side.
Steve scooted closer to you, and you pressed your back to the front of his chest. He tossed an arm over you and somehow managed to pull you even closer to him. You swore you hadn’t been this comfortable since you left the womb, and you nearly purred in response. 
“Can I make a request?” he asked.
You simply nodded.
“Can we just… talk until we fall back asleep?” 
“That’s really cute,” you mumbled into your pillow. 
“You just have a relaxing voice!” he defended playfully.
“You are such a dork,” you giggled. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Just tell me about… I dunno, anything.”
“That was so helpful, Steven.”
“My bad. Tell me about your favorite… mission?”
“Mm, probably that one time you and I had to go undercover for like a month to bust that arms dealer.”
“Which one?”
“Some dude in the Midwest. Can’t remember his name.”
“Oh yeah, yeah I know who you’re talking about.”
“It was fun being your life partner for a month. We were really good at being domestic.”
“Hmm, now that I think about it, we really were. Do you remember that cookout?”
“Of course I do,” you laughed at the memory. “Everyone else was getting so drunk, but you just… couldn’t. They were like Joseph, you’re such a beast, and shit. And who would’ve guessed that you, the old timer would be such a beast on the grill.”
“Well, who would’ve guessed that you were so good at cornhole?”
“Was I really that good? Or were you just really bad? Like really bad, especially for someone whose skill set revolves around having good aim,” you teased.
Steve scoffed and laughed, shaking his head at you. 
“How didn’t those people recognize us? I just don’t get it.”
“You’d be surprised how much a beard and dyed hair can change your look.”
“I guess,” you sighed softly, and set a hand on top of Steve’s. “Does this feel counterproductive to you? We’re just sitting here giggling. We’re probably getting less tired.”
“I guess I am less tired. But I’m also not thinking about the impending robot apocalypse.”
“Well now that you brought it up, I’m thinking about the impending robot apocalypse. You better fix this, Rogers.” Emboldened by what must’ve been the butterflies in your stomach falling asleep, you began to roll a bit in his arms so you were facing each other, kicking away the pillow between your legs in the process. 
“How can I make it up to you?” Steve asked, raising a brow.
“You’re the man with a plan, right? Think of something,” your lip quirked slightly in a smirk.
Steve leaned in just the smallest amount, before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. “I got it. We can do one of those one word stories until we fall asleep.”
Well, that’s not exactly how you thought this moment was going to go. 
“Okay, I’ll start then,” you nodded, pressing your head down against a soft pillow, and looking up at Steve, “once.”
“There,” Steve added.
“Was.”
“A.”
“Death-bot,” you giggled. 
“Okay, Y/N. No. No more stories. We can just listen to each other breathe now until we fall asleep like before since you wanna ruin the mood.”
“What mood? And you listened to me breathe?”
“What else was I gonna listen to?” he furrowed his brows, “it’s too late for this anyway. We can talk in the morning.”
“All you had to do was tell me that it’s way past your bedtime, and I would be understanding. But goodnight anyway, Stevie,” you cracked him one last smile, not budging from your position as you closed your eyes. 
It was silent for a few minutes before Steve whispered up out of the blue, “you still awake?”
You slurred something into the pillow, much more asleep than awake. 
“Well, I really like you a lot. Maybe one day I’ll get the guts to tell you that when you’re not completely out of it.”
You grunted as a response, and Steve couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face, not while he was falling asleep, and certainly not during his rather pleasant dreams.
��—
You just couldn’t seem to catch a break with your wake up calls. While you and Steve seemed to sleep through the rapping against the door, and the door itself opening, you both seemed to become aware after the artificial shutter of an iPhone camera flooded through your ears.
“You guys just looked so cute, I wanted to archive this moment for the rest of time. And I’m sure the team will be glad to see that you got along well last night,” Nat teased as your eyes widened and you shot up. “Breakfast is ready downstairs, by the way.”
Well, you two were going to have a great time explaining this one. 
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thewritingginger · 3 years ago
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Will It Ever Be The Same? P.1
Ok I made the first part of this idea I had that was going to be a one shot but it was getting kinda long so here's what I've got so far!
The beginning was a trip for me to write/edit when I decided to change the tense it was in 🥴  So forgive any mistakes, I’ve read and edited this as many times as I physically could handle before I got tired of the words on the screen :)
Enjoy ~
Fandom: Blood of Zeus Pairing: Seraphim x Fem! Reader Word count: 4.5k+ words  Warning(s): 16+, Mentions of violence and death, Angst, Fluff, (More might be added over course of writing)
Summary: Seraphim saved you from a pair of boys when you were young and from then on your friendship grew. Everything was perfect till disaster struck, causing you to flee. It’d be 10 year till you saw each other again. Will this rekindled friendship grow to be much more or will it end in disaster once again?
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The midday sun was high in the sky, beating down on the flooded marketplace. There were stall keepers hollering their offers and deals that blended together with the rest of the nonsensical crowded chatter. “Make sure you keep up with me. You wouldn’t want to get lost again.” The boy's mother said, giving him a knowing glance as he refocused on their path.
He stood in a shaded bit by the shop hut as his mother was exchanging herbs and spices for coin pieces. His attention was then drawn to the sound of children yelling.
“Hey, wait up guys!” A girl, younger than he, yelled winded as she chased after a pair of boys.
“Leave us alone! We don’t want a girl with us, you’re too slow!”
“Yeah so go away.” A boy with sandy hair added as he shoved the girl to the ground. The duo started to laugh and make fun of her as she began to cry.
“Well that’s not very nice.” The boy’s mother said, breaking his attention. He turned to her with a raised brow.
“Well not like we can do anything about it.” He shrugged, about to walk away.
“Seraphim.” He stopped. “You should always try to help others if you can.” She smiled at him, sweeping her palm over his hair as she walked past him to the next stall. Letting out a huff he glanced up at the back of her head then back to the girl crying in the dirt.
Walking over to the two boys still joking and laughing he strode right up to the sandy haired boy and shoved him to the ground with a hard thud. “What the heck! What was that for?”
“Now you know how it feels to be pushed in the dirt.” With his hands on his hips Seraphim looked down at the boy then up to his accomplice - who took a step back.
“Whatever.” The boy stood up, dusting himself off. “Let’s get out of here, he can deal with her.” The two of them scampered off through the crowd as Seraphim turned to the sniffling girl.
Looking up she saw his extending hand. Hesitantly she reached for it and got up. “I’m… Seraphim.” He introduced awkwardly as she whipped away the remaining tears and snot on her sleeve.
“I’m Y/n.” She stuttered. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Yeah it was whatever. My mom said it’s good to help people so… that’s why I did it.” He scratched his head and looked around like he wished to be elsewhere than in silence with the snot nosed girl. “Well I’m gonna go, bye.”
“Wait!” She interjects. Twisting her hands together she then shook her head and looked down. “Nevermind.” Seraphim looked at her for a second more and before he could say or do anything else he heard his mother’s voice.
“Seraphim are you ready- Oh hello.” She smiled before looking down at her son. “I saw that some boys were giving you trouble. I hope my son wasn’t one of them.” Seraphim tsked and looked at his mom, a small curve of her lip grew while she kept her gaze towards the girl.
“Oh, no. He actually helped me, he pushed the boy that hurt me and got them to leave.” Seraphim gave a nervous smile to his mom when she raised a brow at him.
“Well I’m glad my boy could help you. I’m Ariana, would you like to join us for lunch?” His mother asked, which caused Seraphim’s head to whip towards her but she just chuckled sweetly.
“Uh, I don’t want to be a bother…” the girl trails off meekly glancing at the dark haired boy before looking to the ground.
“Nonsense! We would love to have you join us. Right Seraphim?” She places her hand on his bare shoulder.
“Yeah, sure.”
~~~
Seraphim’s mom directed the two of you to go hangout in the shade as she gathered a few more things.
Sitting under a tree, Ariana’s back still in sight, you and Seraphim were in silence. He was standing with a  stick in hand, prodding the ground and loosely swinging around like a sword as you ran your fingers in the grass picking at the small white flowers littered about. Growing bored you asked, “How old are you?”
“Twelve.” He responded, crouching down to look in the dirt.
“Oh well I’m ten.” You started to feel like he didn’t want you around because the conversation just teetered off from there.
About 15 minutes later you heard Seraphim’s mom “Okay, are you two ready to get some lunch going?” She smiled at the two of you. Walking a bit ahead of them you noticed Ariana whispering to her son before she directed you towards the entrance of the forest. “This way, my dear.”
After walking for about 10 more minutes you were in a clearing with a river and a small cave. “Wow, do you guys live here?” You asked, looking at the pretty flowers around the edges.
“Yes we do. You know Seraphim was gonna catch us some fish, if you’d like, I’m sure he’d enjoy the help.” You turned to join them by the river and you heard Seraphim give a quiet whine.
“Mom I can do it myself.” His mother just shook her head and walked away to get things together in their rock home. Then it was just you two. Again.
Maybe I should just go help his mom instead You thought, as you turned to walk away Seraphim interrupted you.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you gonna help me?” He asked, looking up from the spear he was sharpening with a pointed look.
“Oh I thought I could go help your mom. I don’t want to get in your way.” Standing up with a small huff he walked away towards the hut leaving you alone by the river. A few minutes later he arrived back, breaking your thoughts as he stuck the base of a spear in the ground next to you, his other hand holding another.
“Here. Now you can actually help me instead of standing around.” He leaned it towards you to take with a trace of a forced smile on his lips.
So for the next hour you were practically just standing in awe of how Seraphim stood in the gentle flowing river looking for fish and throwing his spear in the water. He even tried to teach you the best way to catch fish as well.  “You want to make sure you don’t disrupt the water too much when you move or you’ll scare them away.” You just nodded and focused on what he is doing in hopes to replicate it.
Standing in the middle of the river a few pases away from the boy you suddenly felt something slippery touch your ankle. Letting out a squeal Seraphim looked at you just in time to see you fall back in the water.
“Something just touched me!” Looking up with eyes the size of dinner plates, you just saw Seraphim laughing. Really laughing, with his spear in the water using it as a crutch as his head reared back. “What’s so funny?” You asked, your face began to heat up.
“It was just a fish you scaredy cat.” He said between laughter. “Are you okay?” He walked over to you offering a hand, much like he did earlier in the day but much warmer than before.
Standing up dripping wet you decided you were done “fishing” for one day. Besides, Seraphim had already caught five fish to your zero.
Walking back to the cave where a fire has been made you sat on a log.
A hand rested on your shoulder, “Here Y/n. How about you change into this and we can lay your clothes out to dry.” Ariana said, handing you what looks to be one of her simple cotton dresses. You accepted it and trudged into the cave to do so. The dress, as you expected, was way too big on you. You had to hold the skirt up so it wouldn’t drag on the ground as you made your way back to the fire pit. Seraphim was roasting the fish over the fire, snorted when he saw your new attire. You were right to think you looked ridiculous. “Y/n, you look lovely. Doesn’t she?” Ariana gave her son a look.
“Yup, she sure does.” He said, trying to hold back another chuckle. You just rolled your eyes at him and took a seat.
Ariana laid your drenched clothes out on a giant rock that was soaked in the sun's rays.
From there everything went quite smoothly. You actually ended up spending the rest of the day with them till the sun was beginning to hang low above the horizon. You honestly had so much fun. Once the newness between you two wore off it became much easier to talk and play.
After your clothes weren’t soaking wet anymore you spent much time after eating, running around in the forest and even playing in the river looking for cool rocks.
But all things have to come to an end at some point.
“Y/n, don’t you need to head home? It’ll be nightfall before you know it.” Ariana reminded the two of you of the time. As you walked back to the cave you thanked the woman for allowing you to stay. “It was not trouble. You’re more than welcome to come back anytime, I’m sure Seraphim would enjoy the company as well.” She smiled. The boy in question looked at her.
“Mom!”  He whispered, embarrassed.
“Oh hush now. You should walk her home, make sure she gets back safe.” His mom nudged him forward as she left you two.
At that point walking side by side wasn’t too weird anymore. “Thanks for letting me play with you.” You said.
“Yeah, it was fun.” He smiled.
A few times throughout your journey home the two of you got side tracked, to look at different rocks, flowers and even by an animal passing by.
“That’s my house over there.” You pointed towards a modest cobblestone hut with a straw roof. “Thanks, again.”
Standing at the door Seraphim gave you a nod. “You’re welcome. See ya.” He turned but you stopped him.
“Wait, would you like to- Maybe we can hang out again? There’s a place over here that has a lot of rocks. Maybe you can find some for your collection?” You said, wringing your hands together, admittedly a nervous tic. He thought about it for a few seconds then nodded his head again.
“Sure, that sounds cool. But I should go now before my mom worries. See ya later Y/n.” He said with a slight smile and wave.
~~~
The next few weeks you and Seraphim began hanging out more and more till it became an everyday occurrence. After the first week Seraphim’s mom wasn’t even surprised by your presence.
“Good, you two are just in time to help me pick apples.”
That day you met their bears. It came as quite a startle when you just saw a bear walking up from behind Seraphim. “Oh my god, there's a bear!”
“Don’t worry, these guys won't hurt you.”  He said as he scratched the animal next to him. Taking a few experimental steps forward, the bear accepted your touch when Seraphim guided your hand atop the creature's head. It’s black fur was so soft you couldn’t help but wrap your fingers in it and smile. Then not only did you have Seraphim to play with but also a few adorable bear cubs to pet and roll around with as well.
~~~
Though all this joy would soon come to an end a few short weeks later.
You and Seraphim were fishing in the river a bit away from his home. That day he brought his bow and you your spear. You were actually getting better and even managed to catch one that day. Heading back to the camp laughing Seraphim stopped abruptly making you bump into him. “Hey, wha-”
“Shh.” He cut you off. You felt uneasy by the seriousness on his once smiling face. You heard male voices and then a woman’s cry. Sticking close behind him, he crept around the lightly wooded area of your destination. Peering through the foliage of the forest you saw that it was Seraphim’s mother who cried and she was with company that seemed less than welcomed. There was a group of men holding swords talking to Ariana that was kneeling on the ground before one of them.
“Where’s the boy?” The man barked.
Seraphim? You look at your friend, his eyes glued on his mom. The grip on his bow tightened.
“I swear there is no one here but-” Her pleas are cut off by a sharp smack, you saw Seraphim’s body tense as if he was about to stand up. You grabbed the cloth around his waist to silently stop him, your eyes pleading. He glared at you, eyes locked. As you are growing more frightened you can see the fire in him was building.
Your staring contest was broken by a new voice. There was another  woman the man referred to as Ariana’s sister. Your blood ran cold when you witnessed her apologizing before one of the men stabbed their sword through the back of her neck. Covering your mouth your eyes began to brim over with tears. Seraphim’s reaction was just as shocked till he saw another man grab his mother’s neck, strangling her.
Pulling out one of the arrows he readied his bow, his mother looked at the two of you with worry filled eyes. They were screaming for you to run, to leave before the two of you were hurt. Which was exactly what everything inside you was telling you to do but your body felt numb and unable to move. You were then soon brought back to earth when Seraphim released the arrow into the back of that man’s skull, the head sticking out his mouth.
Before climbing the tree he shoved you to the ground. “Get out of here!” His command startled you. You couldn’t just leave him.
After that everything happened so fast it felt like daze. First the bears you’ve played with countless times charged in mauling the men as Seraphim shot arrows at others. Then everything slowed when you saw your friend racing towards his mother as the man in charge grabbed her and sliced his blade across her throat, a wicked grin you’ll never forget played on his lips. Your heart broke for the loss for your friend and from his cry.
You wanted to look away or run, anything besides watching this nightmare playing out before you. The family you found was getting cut down one by one. The bears, Ariana, and all that was left was Seraphim.
You wanted to scream. Get to him. Anything to stop what was happening in front of your eyes. But you couldn’t. What could’ve you done? You could barely catch a fish without Seraphim’s help so you were forced to watch him face off against a grown man with a sword. This can’t be happening! Run! Your mind was pleading but you were frozen in fear once again. No matter how much you prayed to the gods it was all a dream and to make it stop, it didn’t.
Then in a horrifying moment you witnessed the vicious man’s blade strike down Seraphims face. He fell and so did you. Hiding behind the bushes your palms cupped over your mouth, trying to muffle your tears and quickened breath. Then once more a fire was lit under your ass when you heard more screams from the men and the roar of another bear. This time you got up and ran like Seraphim told you to. Glancing back all you saw was someone riding away on a horse and the blurred image of two figures crumpled on the ground.
~ 10 years later ~
For the past few years you’ve been working odd jobs where you can to earn coin. You’ve swept shop fronts, washed and fed horses, and stocked shop stalls with newly delivered goods.
At the moment you were working at a small tavern, filling drinks and cleaning tables.
You were out front serving a couple when you heard some commotion.
“Hey! Watch where you are going asshole!” A man yelled to another.
Probably just a drunk that wasn’t watching where he was going and is looking for a fight. The man just tsks, “Freak.” Before walking past you. Looking up, you catch a glimpse of the man he was referring to as he was pulling his hood back up. You paused. 
That guy- 
But you’re pulled from your thoughts by a voice. “Excuse me.” An older woman calls you, cup held up. You sighed and got back to work.
~~~
Another long day of work is over, thankfully. “Okay, I’m heading home. See ya tomorrow.” You wave to your friend as you leave through the back of the tavern. Turning the corner you see a large figure in a cloak. It resembles the man you couldn’t shake from your thoughts some weeks ago. You decide, against your better judgment, to take a detour and circle around a building hoping to be in a position to catch another look at his face. You don’t allow yourself a moment to really answer yourself as to why it was so important, you just let your legs guide the way.
Crossing the road, the evening sun casting it in a warm orange glow, you stopped at an abandoned stall that was shaded behind the building, trying to get a look of him from the corner of your eye.
Then your eyes locked!
You looked down and tried to walk away as nonchalantly as possible but you were stopped by a booming voice.
“Why are you following me?” The mystery man asks. You froze, turning on your heel to face him. You are about to respond when your words get caught in your throat. You must’ve looked like an idiot with your mouth ajar. It can’t be, can it? He gives a tsk as he begins to step away
“Seraphim?” You finally say. It came out as more of a whisper to yourself but he must’ve heard cause now it was his turn to freeze. You shake your head, That’s ridiculous! “I-I’m sorry. I must have the wrong-”
“How do you know my name?” He cuts you off, turning towards you, advancing a few steps. His build is much more threatening at a closer distance and his question certainly didn’t help. Though it was more of a command. You just open and close your mouth to find the words. Any words, literally anything at all would work just so you could stop looking like a fool that hit their head. Which you might have because this can’t be happening.
“Is it really you?” He just squints his eyes. “You remember me right? We played together a lot as children.” You can tell your words have begun to sink in the more his eyes scanned you, his face drops. Standing there, nerves getting the better of you, you began to rub your palms together awaiting his response. You’d be relieved even if he just spat a “fuck you” in your face cause than atleast there wouldn’t be this deafening silence. Unable to keep his gaze you look away but you can still feel his eyes burning a hole into the side of your head.
“…Y/n?” He finally says. Your name travels hesitantly past his lips. You feel like you might pass out or scream or just simply cry cause it’s him. It’s really him!
His expression reads the same as yours. For a final silent second of looking over each other you take a tentative step towards him, he stays like a statue.
Standing before him you think about touching him.
He is just like you remember, minus the height and strong build, his tanned skin and long brown hair you were always so jealous of. Though when your eyes reach his face yours falls, he notices and turns his away slightly.
His eye.
The right one is the same hue of obsidian as you remember but his left is cut through with a scar and left white.
That must have been from that day. You shudder at the thought.
Reaching up your palm grazes his cheek, he stiffens from your touch. You don’t know why you did that. Maybe you just needed proof that this wasn’t all a dream. That your old friend really is flesh and blood before you.
Turning his gaze to yours, you tilt your head taking him in. He really is the Seraphim you remember just… hardened.
“I- I thought you died.” You say, voice threatening to cry, because perhaps some part of him did that day and in the years apart.
He stays silent a moment longer, you assume it’s due to the similar shock you’re feeling. But then he pulls your hand away before turning. “You’d be better off keeping it that way.”
His body moves further into the shadows and you feel your blood begin to heat up. Does he really think he can just walk away like that?
Stomping after him you catch his shoulder and spin him back towards you, his brows raised. “What’s the big idea? What do you mean I should keep it that way?” Your hands are on your hips, chest is heaving. Unsure as to why you’re reacting like this you just keep your eyes locked with his.
“Do you have any idea how many nights I spent beating myself up for not going to you? The countless years I’ve spent wishing I could see you again? Just for you to tell me, now that that would be possible, that it’s better that I think you dead?”
After your outburst your arms drop to your side. You look up hoping to halt the tears threatening to seep out and just when you were about to tell him to forget it he responds.
“I don’t know what you’re hoping for Y/n but -” He trails off.
“You want to know what I was hoping for? That you were alive and I could see you just one last time even if that was all I’d be allowed.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “Call it pathetic if you want but… you were my only friend and I missed you. I mean it became pretty lonely without you.” You wipe away a loose tear that betrayed your will.
“Then what do you want?” He asks. You look back up with glossy eyes.
“Meet me tomorrow. I have work but I’ll be off two hours till nightfall and if either of us wants to leave after, then that will be that.” You say matter of factly with your hands on your hips. Another moment passes with him in silence. You let out a defeated sigh. “You know what, forget it.”
“I never said no.” His eyes bore into you in thought before continuing. “Meet me at the river.”
And that was it.  He turned and walked back into the dimming streets, hood pulled high before you could say anything else.
So to say you were a bit shaken would be an understatement. Walking home you just kept replaying the image of his face and his voice.
He’s changed so much. Well of course he has, it's been a decade since you last saw him. He’s practically a stranger at this point.
A stranger…
And you’re going to be meeting with said stranger at the river before dusk tomorrow. Leaning against the door of your home you knock the back of your head against the wood. Y/n, what have you gotten yourself into?
Getting through the door you just flop yourself onto your bed, not bothering to change. The whole night was spent tossing and turning thinking about the coming day.
This is a bad idea! You don’t even know him. I mean sure he is your friend but what if he isn’t the boy you remembered? What if things are weird? What if he’s... different?
You somehow managed to sleep, though your unconscious mind was still spinning with thoughts of Seraphim. You had a dream, a memory actually. One you almost forgot.
~~~
You were running around in the forest like you guys did countless times. But this time the two of you were ‘battling’ but you were doing a lot more running than fighting.
“Come back and face me! For I the mighty Seraphim will take you down!” The raven hair boy declared boisterously, making you laugh. The air was filled with the sound of rustling leaves and laughter from the two of you. You saw a clearing up a head which would make a perfect arena. However, you didn’t make it there before your foot got caught on an outstretched tree root. Tumbling to the ground you let out a small cry. “Y/n! Are you okay?”
Seraphim kneeled beside you on the damp earth. Looking you over he sees you clutching your knee to your chest. “Let me see it.” He said. You removed your hands to show him, you scraped your knee pretty badly. It was starting to bleed a little but nothing too unmanageable. “Stay here, I'll be right back.” He instructed before rushing towards his home.
About 10 minutes passed and your tears had stopped, though you were sure your eyes were red and your nose snotty. You hear rustling coming towards you and looking up you see the boy returning with a small pale of water and a cloth. “My mom is still at the market so this is the best I could do.”
He soaked the clean cloth in the water and started to wipe your wound. “OUCH!” Your knee jerked away from his touch.
“Sorry. But you need to wash it so it doesn't get worse.” You nodded your head and allowed him to continue. You kept wincing and hissing every so often.
Whilst cleaning your knee Seraphim saw you had a big splinter. “Uh this might hurt but I’ll do it quickly.” He tried to reassure you. Bracing yourself he took out the small piece of wood, you actually started to cry again - which felt embarrassing.
Once your knee was as clean as he could get it he then wrapped the clean side of the cloth around your knee. “Are you okay?” He asked, his onyx eyes laced with concern.
“Yeah, thanks.” you sniffle, wiping away the tears from your cheeks. Seraphim leaned towards you and placed a small peck on your cheek, which startled you. “What are you doing?”
“Uh, well I uh- you were hurt so I gave you a kiss better.” He hastily stuttered as he got up and dusted himself off. Without looking at you he extended his hand for you to take. “We should head back, my mom should be there by now.” He then took your hand and started walking back.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Wow. Okey if you made it through that I hope you enjoyed it. This start feels a bit rocky but lets hope it only goes up from here 😅  
I’m definitely more of a One shots & HCs kinda girl not a big Fic writer, perhaps that’s because I haven’t done much multi part/”chapter” writing before so 🤷🏻‍♀️
If you enjoyed this let me know your thoughts :3
💛 ~
~ Masterlist ~
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bookstantrash · 3 years ago
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A/N: I am so very sorry for not updating for so long. I know I said I’d try to update more frequently while I was on uni break but life happened lmao. Classes are back, but I’ll try not left y’all hanging for so long.
You can check here Pemberley’s Lake, Hooked on You, Smells like petrichor and paper, The Sound of Music and A Midsummer Night’s Dream, part one, two, three, four and five of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.
That being said, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter! We got a little bit of fluff, sprinkles of angst and a lovely plot twist ✨
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Bloody Day and Ominous letters
Nesta woke up with the worst headache she had ever had in her entire life. She really should not have drunk as much as she had last night but as she saw her friends and Morrigan having fun that little voice inside her head — usually her mother’s or grandmother's saying Do better, Stop being such a disappointment or Your only purpose is to marry well so forget about love — got louder and louder, judging her company and trying to make her feel ashamed.
But she had had enough. Her grandmother and mother had both passed away already. It was time to bury them for good. So Nesta took the wine bottle from Morrigan and drank half of it in one go, her friends cheering around her. And she had so much fun. Nesta would never have guessed that drinking could be so enjoyable, nothing like those uptight parties where the ladies sipped a lonely glass all night long while the gentleman lost count of theirs. The only downside was her killing headache and the fact that she had overslept, a fact she took notice of once she glanced at the wall clock.
She had just sat up on her bed —  massaging her temple to ease the tension on her head — when an insistent knocking on her door made her mumble a curse. No doubt it was either Emerie or Gwyn — maybe both of them — waking her up. Those two were quite used to drinking, so it was no surprise to Nesta that they would be up and about very early.
“Would you two stop it?” she said loudly, opening the door wearing only her chemise, probably having ditched her dress during the night while she slept “I have a killer headache and your banging is not helping at all—”
She stopped mid sentence when she came face to face with Georgianam, the young lady’s hand still raised to knock on her door, Cassian right behind her.
“Oh, I apologise Lady Nesta” Georgiana said “We had agreed that we would go on a nice early morning walk today, but when I did not spot Miss Archeron at the breakfast table I got worried.”
“Please do forgive me, Miss Georgiana. I had a bit too much to drink yesterday and ended up oversleeping.” Nesta quickly said, mentally kicking herself for her rudeness “I will be ready for our walk in a minute.”
“Lovely! I will be waiting at the parlor then!”
Nesta closed the door with a sigh. Her morning had not begun the best.
However, it was only while she was brushing her hair that her sleep fogged mind caught up to the fact that Cassian had seen her half asleep wearing nothing but her chemise and with early morning messy bed hair.
She definitely could not be allowed to drink more than two glasses of alcohol if that was how she was going to behave whenever she drank more than deemed proper.
When she arrived at the parlor ten minutes later, she could not help but avoid looking at Cassian.
“Mrs. Potts brought you a little something to eat” Georgiana informed, pouring Nesta tea “And also some headache medicine”
“Please thank her in my instead later, she is too kind to me”
“Oh, it was all my brother’s doing” Georgiana smiled in Cassian's direction, serving herself some cookies “He was the one who asked her to provide not only the medicine but also the food.”
“I appreciate the gesture, my lord.” Nesta hid her blush behind the teacup.
“It was nothing, my lady” was all he answered, refusing to look at her.
That made Nesta’s heart strangely hurt. She could not help but think he had been disgusted by her earlier appearance. Her hair was such a mess and her chemise was all wrinkled from sleep—
Wait. Why did she care so much of what he thought of her? Nesta Archeron was not one to give much attention to others opinion of herself, so why was she getting so worked up when it came to Cassian? Of course, one could not help but notice how he always looked so presentable, with his spotless clothes, hair combed to perfection every single time. She had never seen a gentleman’s hair be so… perfect. She could bet her first edition of her favourite romance that he had awfully handsome bed hair. And that he had a mint breath even when woke up. And that he probably slept shirtless, if the last time she saw him at midnight at his library was any indication of his sleeping attire.
Oh Mother, why was she now thinking about all of that? She waved an imaginary hand to disperse her not so proper thoughts, focusing on the small talk Georgiana was making.
Both Nesta and Cassian kept avoiding each other during their walk, which did not pass by Georgiana without notice, especially given how her brother had made sure to stay two steps behind them, giving the excuse he wanted to give both ladies “privacy to talk comfortably”, something he had never done. Their walk, however, was cut short when Nesta showed signs of being tired and admitted that her headache had not disappeared.
“I assure you it is nothing to fret over” Nesta told a worried Mrs. Potts when they came back “It must be from yesterday’s drinking. There is no need to call a doctor.”
“Nonetheless, I will ask Chef Ramsay to prepare some light food and my special hangover drink” the old headmaid said with a motherly expression.
Thanking Mrs. Potts again, Nesta went to her room to splash some water on her face in hopes of refreshing herself. But a painful jab low on her stomach made her freeze and the blood drain from her face.
~•~
“Just knock on the door, my Lord” Lumière said as he watched Cassian drop his hand once again. The maître d’ had been watching his lord pace in front of the parlor door for what must have been twenty minutes.
“I do not want to bother her. Maybe I should call Mrs. Potts or wait until the other ladies come back” Cassian ran his hand through his hair in distress. Emerie and Balthazar had gone out with Morrigan to visit some possible new business partners — her big circle of connections proving itself to be very useful in helping expand their business — while Azriel and Gwyn had gone to the town, which was helding a small music festival. Georgiana, on the other hand, had received a telegram from a friend who had returned early from their trip abroad, and she had promptly gone to meet them.
“This, dear brother, is your chance to speak to Miss Nesta” she had said before leaving “I do not know what happened to make you both so distant, but you better make amends. I already asked Emerie to design the gown I shall wear at your wedding.”
Cassian had told Georgie to mind her own business and stop being such a busybody, proceeding to stand guard outside the parlor.
“Leave the lord alone” Cogsworth hissed, elbowing Lumiére “Her ladyship has not asked for help so it must mean she is fine and does not wish to be bothered.”
“Nonsense, old friend!! The lady is simply too shy to ask for it and the lord too polite to risk disturbing her” taking a step forward, Lumière knocked on the door.
“What do you think you are doing?!” the major-domo whisper yelled, and Cassian was sure he would have throttled Lumière were it not for the faint voice coming from the other side.
“Please, do come in” Nesta said.
Taking a deep breath, Cassian opened the door, leaving behind Cogsworth and Lumière, who were trying very hard not to start a duel right there.
The first thing he looked for was Nesta.
Nesta, who was rather pale and was clutching a pillow very hard against her stomach.
“Are you alright?” he asked, not knowing whether to sit beside her or just stay standing a few feet away.
“I am” she said, although the deep breath she took had him thinking it was not true “Where are Gwyn and Emerie?”
“Gwyn went to the town festival with Azriel. An Emerie went with Mor and Balthazar to meet prospective business partners.”
“Are you really alright Nesta?” he asked again “You do not seem fine at all if I may say.”
“I assure you I am perfectly fine” Nesta insisted through clenched teeth “Where is Georgiana?”
“At a friend’s house. They returned early from a trip.” Cassian said, a bit annoyed she was asking for his sister when he was right there. It was a stupid jealous feeling, and he was not even more annoyed because he felt glad they got on so well.
“Do you know when any of them will be back?”
“I am afraid I do not know” daring to approach her, Cassian sat beside her on the sofa “But I am here. If there is anything I could do…”
“There is no need to bother yourself. I truly am—”
And that was when Nesta whimpered and clutched her pillow even tighter, doubling over a little bit.
“You are definitely far from fine sweetheart” Cassian said, rubbing her back in hopes of helping her, nevermind proper etiquette.
“It is really nothing. Just—”
“Just what?”
“Lady stuff!!” Nesta finally said, her whole face heating up like a fireplace.
“Oh. Oh! I see. I— I understand” he said, also a little bit flustered “Not that I actually get it but I have also experienced pain and—”
Nesta wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She was used to getting her period, it was a monthly occurrence. Nothing out of the ordinary. However, this time it seemed her body had decided to punish her more than usual. Not only had she gotten a killer headache — made worse by her hangover —  but she was cramping very badly, and they usually were not that bad. That was why she had gone to that walk with Georgiana, even though she was getting mildly uncomfortable soon after they arrived at the garden.
Not that she did not want to miss any Cassian time.
Him going with them had been a bonus.
A surprise, but not a pleasant one.
Maybe just a bit pleasant if she was being honest. Just a tiny tiny bit.
“I will stop talking now” Cassian mumbled, interrupting not for the first time her errant thoughts.
She wanted to die. To tell Cassian — even indirectly —  that she had gotten her period was the most mortifying she had ever experienced.
“I can get Mrs. Potts for you” he tentatively said, restarting the back rubs “She can get you some tea for pain. Or a bag of warm water. You can tell her anything, do not worry.”
Nesta managed to nod her head in agreement, despite her stubborn side that refused to ask for help from the maids or other servants at Pemberley.
Cassian himself went looking for the head maid instead of just ringing for her, assuring her he would be back in less than ten minutes. And he did come back in record time with Mrs. Potts, who gave her tea and pain tonic that she assured Nesta made wonders for stopping cramps. All the while Cassian hovered over Mrs. Potts, unsure of what to do.
“Do you require anything else? Maybe another blanket?” he asked after Mrs. Potts had left. He had made sure to bring back a blanket too and had even tucked her in with extra care “Or more tea? I can ask someone to come and bring fresh hot tea”
Nesta would never have imagined Cassian to be such an overbearing mother hen. He was being extra careful around her and it annoyed her beyond reason.
“Cassian, this happens every month. Has been happening since I was thirteen, alright? Can you please stop?” she snapped.
She regretted her words as soon as she realised how rude she had been and what exactly she had said. However, he was being so overweening. As if she was made of glass or was on her deathbed.
Yet all Cassian did was crack a smile and nudge a chocolate muffin towards her. Nesta had been in such pain and so quiet he had been concerned if Mrs. Potts’ pain tonic would really work. But there she was.
There was the feisty, sharp tongued and quick-witted Nesta he knew.
There was the Nesta he fell in love with.
He barely held his tongue back and risked blutering his feelings right in front of her. Again.
“May I get you a book then? It is a good way to pass the time until your friends are back.”
“Thank you. That would be lovely” Nesta gave him a soft smile, her previous embarrassment having died down a little.
He was gone and back in a record time, and Nesta delusioned herself into thinking he had raced to the library because he did not want to leave her for too long.
“I got the book you were not able to finish last night” Cassian said, handing her Sellyn Drake’s latest romance “And I also took the liberty of getting one of my favourites too. In case you finish this one quickly.”
She thanked him again, curious as to what book was his favourite, what made her even eager to finish her current read.
Turns out Cassian was a fan of epic poems, a fact that — combined with his admission of having read Sellyn Drake’s romances — once again made Nesta view him with new eyes. She had thought he would be more of a war strategy person, all business and serious matters. Yet it seemed that Cassian had a dreamer inside of him.
“How many times have you read this book?” Nesta asked as she turned a yellowed page. The book was old, but she could see it was very loved given its good condition.
“A lot of times. It was my favourite book as a child, and I could not part with it once I moved out of my childhood home” he gave her a smile “It was also my dear companion during long expeditions. I have most of it memorized.”
“I bet you charmed every single lady during your travels with your knowledge, wooing them with beautiful words” she teased, despite the small pang of jealousy in her heart.
You refused his hand and humiliated him, she thought, you have no place to feel jealous. Cassian is a wonderful gentleman, it is expected to have women falling left and right for him, not to say him pursuing them.
“You are actually the first person apart from my family who knows that I read poetry” Cassian admitted “And I also have never met someone that made me want to declare a poem to”
Nesta did not know what to say to that. They were bordering dangerous territory, something that seemed to happen more and more frequently.
And Cassian, seated right beside her, was thinking the same thing. He had allowed himself to get closer to him again, something that yesterday he had vowed to avoid, had tried to do that morning. But to see her in pain, uncomfortable and not talking to him hurt more than those moments in which he could see a life with her. Those moments with Nesta were a double edged sword: he craved and loathed them with the same urgency.
He would kill to have even a single moment with her.
He would die if he had even a single moment with her.
Nesta made him want to be selfish.
Made him want to declare poems to her, maybe even attempt to write her one.
At the moment, he could not help but recall a certain verse of the Epic of Gilgamesh:
What could I offer
the queen of love in return, who lacks nothing at all?
Balm for the body? The food and drink of the gods?
I have nothing to give to her who lacks nothing at all.
You are the door through which the cold gets in.
You are the fire that goes out. You are the pitch
that sticks to the hands of the one who carries the bucket.
You are the house that falls down. You are the shoe
that pinches the foot of the wearer. The ill-made wall
that buckles when time has gone by. The leaky
water skin soaking the water skin carrier.
To Cassian, Nesta was the goddess of love. And he was the one who could not offer her a single thing for she lacked nothing.
“Well, I will not disturb your reading any longer” clearing his throat to break the new tense silence between them, Cassian gestured to the book in her hand “But do feel free to make comments while you read, I would very much like to hear your opinions about it.”
And she did just that. Every passage she found interesting, each line that caught her eye and interpretation she had about a certain phrase, she shared them all with Cassian. Somewhere during their conversation that awkward tension between them disappeared completely, with Cassian letting his arm rest on the back of the couch, getting closer to Nesta. And Nesta somehow ended up getting closer to him too, almost leaning on his side.
It was all very improper. Cassian staying alone with Nesta, so close to each other and acting as a married couple.
But Cassian would let himself be selfish one last time.
One last time before they had to go their separate ways.
~•~
The day would have ended perfectly were it not for the letter that Gwyn brought once she and Azriel had come back.
While Emerie, Balthazar and Mor had arrived late in the evening — with good news of new partnerships being agreed on —  Gwyn and Azriel had come back much later, just when everyone had finished dinner. Nesta had not been too worried, she trusted Azriel to take care of Gwyn and her friend was not bound by the stifling high society etiquette, but she breathed a little easier when they finally arrived.
“Oh Nesta, we passed by the inn we were staying at before and the landlady gave me a letter addressed to you. It seems she had forgotten to send it to us yesterday when our things were brought here.” Gwyn gave her the letter once they had moved to the game room “She apologised deeply for it.”
“I understand, it is a busy season for them.”
“It is a letter from Feyre” Nesta furrowed her brows in confusion as she broke the letter’ seal, which she recognized as being the one representing Feyre’ status as Duchess “She sent one barely a week ago, I wonder what could have happened.”
Nesta had guessed it would be another letter from Feyre asking about how their trip was going, if she had seen beautiful scenarios and bought any souvenir for her youngest sister. Or even a curious inquiry about what she thought of Cassian. Feyre had been quite interested to know if they got along — she had always been a busybody and matchmaker, and since marrying Rhysand had tried time and time again to nonchalantly push her to Cassin. If she ever discovered that Nesta had already been proposed by Cassian — and that she had refused his hand — chaos would befall upon Nesta.
However, as her eyes scanned the lines, Nesta’s assumptions of its contents proved to be far away from reality. She felt her blood run cold, her heart stop beating and fear. So much fear.
“Excuse me” she managed to say, getting up “I need a moment.”
“Nesta, are you alright? What did Feyre say? You are very pale” Gwyn said, her voice full of worry.
“I am fine. Just cramps” she brushed off her friend’s worries. She did not want to make the others notice that something was off with her, she did not want to alarm Gwyn..
Yet as she exited the room she failed to perceive that Cassian had been paying attention to her ever since Gwyn gave her the letter. He was always paying attention to his surroundings, especially when she was around.
He left the room a few moments after her, trying not to raise suspicion to his attitude. He did not know where she had gone — Pemberley was vast and her room was too far away for him to not have caught her faster — but something led him to the small outdoor patio just left from the small gallery he had at Pemberley.
As he got closer and closer there, he heard the sound of someone crying, which made his heart beat faster and a deep fear grow inside him.
He arrived outside to find an unimaginable scene: Nesta crying. Crying as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest.
She was a mess, her careful braided hair coming undone, as if she had ran her hands through it in desperation.
“Nesta… Nes dear, what happened? Is Feyre alright?” Cassian did not care that she most probably left the room to cry in private. He was worried, he needed to be beside her, he needed to help her somehow.
“I— Feyre she—” she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, let alone talk, making Cassian’s heart break in a thousand pieces.
“Shh it’s okay sweetheart. I am here Nes” he gently cupped her face, making her look at him “Take deep breaths with me.”
He took a deep breath, holding it in for three seconds before letting it go. He kept doing it until Nesta did the same, slowly calming down.
“Can you talk now? Do you want me to fetch you some water?” Cassian asked, tenderly brushing off her remaining tears.
“No, I— I can talk now” Nesta took another breath “Feyre is alright. It is Elain.”
“Elain? Is she sick? Talk to me Nes, help me understand”
Elain was the picture of the perfect lady in high society. With her numerous suitors, lovely and delicate behaviour — not to mention her singular beauty — it was hard to find someone who did not like her. Given that her hobbies — cooking and gardening — did not pose a threat to her health and well being, Cassian could not understand what would have made Nesta react so strongly. Perhaps Elain had fallen ill, something that rarely happened.
“No. She is not sick” Nesta shook her head “Cauldron, I almost wished she was sick.”
“Elain was…. Elain was kidnapped” she added, her eyes filling with tears again.
“Kidnapped? How?”
That made no sense, who would kidnap Elain? And why?
“She was going to visit Feyre. And when she didn't show up Rhysand went to search for her and—” Nesta started to cry, desperation filling her voice “They found her carriage turned over and hidden near the outskirts of the city. No sign of her at all.”
Cassian was speechless. He could only imagine how Feyre must be feeling after she got the news and hoped Rhysand was doing his everything to help find Elain.
“The coachman was killed and her lady in waiting was rushed to the hospital.” she cried even harder “This is all my fault. I should never have left her. We have no male relatives and Feyre is living too far from our childhood home. I was supposed to take care of her.”
“Nesta, it is not your fault. You could never have guessed something like this could happen.” he looked deep in her eyes, the blue in them even brighter because of her tears “Is there anything I could do to help?”
“I am afraid there isn’t, '' she whispered “I have to go back home. Try to hire an investigator, talk to Feyre and hope Elain is not disgraced by society rumors. Hope she is alive”
Cassian could only nod in agreement and wait for Nesta to recompose herself before they went back inside. Their friends were as horrified and worried about the situation as he and Nesta, and decided to go back right that moment. The staff noticed something was amiss and made sure to ready the carriage in record time.
“Thank you for welcoming you at your home” Nesta said, her complexion a bit better “I can assure you we all had a wonderful time here.”
“It was my pleasure. Have a safe travel and remember that Pemberey is open to you and your friends whenever you want to visit” Cassian helped Nesta get on her carriage one last time, letting go of her hand begrudgingly.
And as Nesta and her friends got farther and farther from Pemberley, as Nesta got farther and farther away from him and took his heart with her, Cassian felt a calm fury settle inside him.
He had some letters to write to some old friends.
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mythicalartisttm · 1 year ago
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ok u know what? sure, I'll share what my brain was doing
Spoilers for what I'll be talking about, read as far as you dare!
so there's this webcomic that I like, yeah? it's called Jupiter-Men. Teen superhero story with a saturday-morning cartoon feel to it. Been reading for almost a year now, would recommend.
Over the past few days the author (@/actionkiddy) has been posting artwork leading up to the season 1 finale that drops next week, and strangely, the countdown started on day 10. This gave me a pause, bc wouldn't a 14-day or 7-day countdown make more sense? And why are the protagonists sitting on an L-looking shape?
The days come, and so do the artworks.
9 days left. Background looks like a blob of color. Maybe what I thought I saw was nothing?
8 days left. Still looks like a blob of color, I was probably tripping out at first. But hey, the panels that make up the backgrounds are summarizing the comic's arcs up until now, that's pretty cool!
7 days left. Definitely just the panels being shaped into cool shapes (I also like this art a lot)
6 days le- NEVERMIND THERE'S SOMETHING BEING SPELLED HERE.
I go back and review the shapes again, and sure enough:
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L-U-P-I-T
Ten days. Ten letters. What could it spell? Is it an anagram? There's no "L" in "Jupiter-Men" though......
wait.
The character on the 7-days-left artwork.... his name is Arrio McKay, and his late mom is from another dimension, called Magi. People from other dimensions are not allowed onto Earth - or "Prime" as the dimension is known as - under normal circumstances, and his mother is no exception.
But... she stayed. Mrs. McKay stayed on Prime for several years, at LEAST 11, because that's how old Arrio was when she died.
Now, crash course on a small bit of JM lore:
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(both panels are from ch. 46, second image edited for relevant info)
In Jupiter-Men, when one from a foreign dimension crosses into Prime, they require an item called an anchor in order to stay on Prime, lest they get forced off by the laws of the multiverse and its' relation to Prime specifically. The average anchor can only hold its' bearer to Prime for a couple hours before it breaks, maybe a day or two from what little we've seen so far.
But a special anchor, made by Prime's protector, the Star Guardian? It can last for however long the Star Guardian wishes.
This means that L-U-P-I-T-a McKay was not only in contact with the Star Guardian, she got special permission from him to stay. This honor is usually only given to people with connections to the highest levels of government in a particular dimension, and the trips are usually (?) short. It seems to be implied that any anchors created by anyone other than the Star Guardian are the ones in the black market, so Arrio's mother being allowed to stay on Prime for a whole 11 YEARS AND COUNTING is a VERY BIG DEAL.
But she's dead. Arrio is haunted by her death; poor boy has nightmares on the subject even 5 years later.
And that's just it. That was 5 years ago at the time of the comic's events, but she started haunting the narrative Arrio's part of the narrative after he learned of his heritage. Arrio is technically half banished from Prime, so the fact that he can stay on Prime seemingly without an anchor is... interesting to say the least.
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Perhaps Lupita will start haunting more than just a tiny part of the narrative now.
Of course, there's also the possibility that her grave is empty, since uh.
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That explanation is very dodgy.
There's more suspicious things in Arrio's story in the actual comic of course, but I have neither the time nor the energy to go over them right now. (The comment section did most of the heavy lifting for those other points anyways, so just. Read the comic ;))
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👀
obscure fandom thing that has since burned me out in the hour I posted that
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sinswithpleasure · 3 years ago
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The Playgirl (ft. LOONA’s Yves) [Part 3] [Female Reader]
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—————
I’m back with part 3!
I know I said I’d start mentioning Yves being futa here, but welp, I doubt it’d be out until Part 6-8?
If you prefer, this is also on AO3 and AFF!
Thanks to @existslikepristin​ and @ggidolsmuts​ for editing / beta reading!
—————
Another month passes.
Yves has been improving a lot, and you're teaching her more than just math. Even on weekends, she requests tutoring, and both of you work on projects or study together, be it at Seoul U's cafe or in empty classrooms.
Two months since you began tutoring her, about one month since you took up her deal. Something in Yves shifts—when she began studying, it was out of just competitive spirit. Now, she seems to truly like what she's doing, and you can't help but to let yourself enjoy the sight of this Yves. She turns up to school a little more regularly, though she still comes to terrorize people. She doesn't go out to parties as much, choosing instead to hang with you. The attention you get from her feels like too much and not enough at the same time. 
Other than being your student, Yves becomes somewhat of a regular fixture in your life. She still frustrates you—her semi-regular absences from school are met with your nagging and her regular dismissal, her constant nonchalance about how she carries herself still annoys you, and she still constantly flirts with you. That last point is also part of the reason why she is kind of a welcome presence in your life. If she isn't present in school, she will be seen leaning against a wall after class, leather jacket over her shoulders, your favourite mocha frappe in her hands. If she doesn't turn up for a tutoring session, she drops a call and apologizes, then makes it up to you with your favourite dessert next session. On the regular, she always has a compliment or a greasy remark tailored for you on hand, both making you groan and internally panic simultaneously.
It doesn't help that she keeps getting prettier, at least to you. Every day, her empty desk taunts you. Sometimes, you wish she was next to you, lollipop in her mouth, gazing at you and flirting with you. Your heart skips a beat when she pushes herself off the wall to wrap an arm around your shoulder, waving the frappe in front of your face with a "Hey, babygirl" . You look forward to the text exchanges with her every night, where both of you can text for hours. You adore her lip bites when she is focused on something, her soft "Assa!" when she gets something right.
Perhaps your crush on her is starting to get out of hand, but you don't want it to end. 
-----
Your phone rings. Caller ID: yves 💘
"Yo, babygirl."
"Don't—ah, nevermind."
"The cafe's closed today. Wanna come over to my place?"
"What?"
"My place. Come over."
"Oh, um…"
"Text me your address. I'll pick you up."
"Okay."
When Yves hangs up, you panic. Her place? You'll get to see how she lives? Her private space? What?! You fire off a text to Yves, then you carry on panicking.
[yves💘 has sent a message:]
Gotchu
I'll see you in 15, babygirl
Can't wait ;)
-----
Yves's place is cozy. For someone so punk rock, her place looks so homely, so full of life. However, Yves lives alone. Weird, considering there's a lot of stuff that is placed neatly on tables and shelves, too much for one person to use. 
"Welcome to my humble abode, babygirl." Yves curtsies, flashing you her dazzling smile. You place your bag down on the couch in her living room, rummaging to find what you need.
"Hey, would you mind if I went for a shower first? I've had a busy morning."
"Oh, no, sure. Go ahead."
"Right, thanks babe."
Yves leaves. In the meantime, you wander around her living room, glancing at the items on her shelves. A vintage tea set, a back scratcher, and an old camera? Those look pretty cool. Beneath that, another shelf holds a few old DVD cases, each of some old music from the 70s and 80s. Also, are those cassette tapes? You pick each one up, getting a feel of them in your hands. Damn, these are cool.
You wander along the hallways. When you pass by the bathroom, you can hear the water running. Suddenly, you’re hit with intrusive thoughts, all of them about Yves.
Your crush. Just a handful of metres away from you. Undressing. Naked. Under the shower. Water running down her bare skin, maybe over those chiseled abs of hers? Her naked chest, her legs?
You return to her couch, collapsing on it, trying to fight the dirtier thoughts in your head.
You sink your face in your hands, groaning at the thought of a naked Yves. This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last, but it sucks to be thinking of something inappropriate when the time isn't right. The gulps of water you inhale don't quench the correct thirst, but at least it does something.
"Hey baby."
Yves's voice makes you jump. The cutest girl ever greets your eyes, with a look that you never thought she'd rock. That same girl has her head bowed, a sheepish smile on her face, her hand moving to tuck some hair behind her ear.
She looks gorgeous.
Her wet hair, formerly slicked back, now falls over her forehead, forming cute bangs. Her  leather jackets and crop tops are traded for a cozy oversized long-sleeved sweater that engulfs her body, giving her sweater paws. Yves pairs that with sweatpants, and a cute pair of bunny slippers. 
She looks so cute and all you want to do is to mash her lips with yours.
You gasp, freezing. Yves walks over to you, planting her books on the table, refusing to meet your eyes. She grins when she finally looks at you though.
"How do I look?"
"Ah, um, er…" You stammer, unable to process the sight of the punk rock, cool, bad girl Yves now looking like a girly, adorable cutie. This wasn't Yves, this was just Ha Sooyoung. 
"You… you look, er, good," you breathe.
Yves halts, red starting to colour her ears. She looks away, seemingly wiping at her face with one of her sleeves.
"Thank you." Her voice is tiny, tinier than usual. You want to hug her but you control yourself, settling to admire how she looks instead. She looks so pretty, so fucking pretty, and you wonder why she doesn't look like this on the regular. Maybe she's letting you see her more private, intimate side. Maybe she somehow found out you quite like this style. Whatever the reason is, it's working. How do you even continue to function today, now that you've seen Yves look like this?
You love this Yves— no, this is Ha Sooyoung, you hastily remind yourself. She looks so domestic, so cute, so… girlfriend? You want to glomp her, and that urge is increasingly hard to control.
"Let's begin."
"O-Okay."
Both of you slip into your roles as teacher and student. For Yves, it’s seamless, but for you, you struggle to do so. The student herself is a distraction.
The session begins.
-----
"Stay for dinner, babe?"
Yves rises from her chair, walking over to her kitchen. She begins pulling stuff out of her fridge and cabinets, setting them on the table. 
"Oh, sure."
You sink yourself on a dining chair as Yves ties an apron around her neck. She begins work on chopping up some garlic and onions, and you let yourself just… look at her. 
She looks so cool, so domestic, so beautiful as she works on whatever it is. You can't help but fall harder for her, and you let yourself gaze lovingly stare at her.
"You're staring, babygirl."
"Ummfhhhdgh!" You stammer, hastily looking away to pretend you weren't. You drum your fingers on the table, shifting around on your seat to distract yourself from Yves's eyes. 
"Uh-uh, you don't get to hide now." Yves tilts your chin up with her finger, her eyes locked onto yours, her lips inches from yours. This is the umpteenth time Yves has had you in kissing range, and you wish she'd finish the job. 
"You look starstruck, babe. Am I that pretty?"
"Y-Yes." 
Yves chuckles, stroking your cheek with her thumb. 
"God, you're so cute. I'd kiss you right now, but we both know we'd do more than that."
"Wha—?"
"I've seen the way you look at me. I know what you're thinking. If we kiss…" Yves trails off, moving to finish her sentence next to your ear. 
"If we kiss, we both know we won't just be kissing at the end of the night."
When Yves finishes her sentence, you feel her soft lips press against your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her lips turn up in her signature cocky smirk. You’ve got the urge to kiss it off her face, but you pause, refusing to give in to her. She is right—if you kissed her, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from jumping her.
-----
Dinner is a relatively quiet affair, with Yves winking at you when you catch eyes with her, and you becoming more flustered each time. All you can think of is about how Yves essentially admitted she knows you want her as much as she wants you, and that thought is enough to fuel your imagination for the night. 
When Yves drops you off in front of your apartment, she gets off her bike, wrapping her arms around your waist from the back.
"Huh?!"
"Goodnight babygirl," Yves whispers next to your ear, her breath causing you to shudder, "I'll be thinking of you tonight."
That settles it. The fire between your legs needs some dousing. You can't help but turn to look at Yves with the utmost shock, meeting her knowing grin. Yves waves, putting her helmet back on and riding off into the night. 
-----
The cold shower you take after reaching home does nothing for you. Yves's words still ring deep in your ear.
If we kiss, we both know we won't just be kissing at the end of the night.
I'll be thinking of you tonight.
Your body feels warm—too warm for the oversized T-shirt and boyshorts you have on. The thought of having Yves pin you against a wall, her lips on yours, tongue swiping at your lips to gain access is way too much for you, and soon enough, you imagine Yves pinning you to her bed, stripping you and teasing you with her touch. These thoughts lead you to lie atop your bed, your shirt pulled up to expose your chest, your boyshorts stripped off to let your hand circle your clit freely. 
"Oh, fuck…"
In your head, Yves has her fingers on you, touching you the same way you touch yourself now. Her fingers mirror the way yours do—rubbing directly over the hood covering your clit, before swiping between your slit to wet her fingers. 
"So wet, babygirl. All for me too."
"Oh, oh shit!"
Yves plunges her fingers deep within you, thrusting freely. Your free hand kneads your left breast, teasing your nipple to drive you crazier. 
"Fuck, Yves, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"Yes, babygirl. That's what I want to hear. Moan my name. Let the world know how wet you are for me."
The dirty sounds of your fingers thrusting deep into yourself only fuels your lust even further. The image in your head morphs from Yves fingering you to her between your legs, her panties pushed aside to expose her pussy. Yves pushes her pussy against yours, grinding against you, flexing her abs with each movement of her hips. In the physical world, you strip yourself of the shirt, grabbing a pillow and straddling it. 
"How does my pussy feel against yours, babygirl? I told you I'd make you love me."
You grind harshly on the pillow. The haze of pleasure is all you can process—how loud you moan doesn't matter anymore. 
"Fuck, yes, Yves, Yves, Yves, fuck, Sooyoung, Sooyoung, I'm gonna come, Sooyoung, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come!"
With a squeal, you grind harder on the pillow, feeling waves of pleasure wash over your body as slick spills out of your clenching hole. Sweat runs down your forehead, your back, down your chest. In your head, Yves comes just as you do, her body writhing in pleasure as slick flows out of her. 
You collapse on the bed, letting the afterglow of your orgasm wash over you. Yves still doesn't leave your head, but you don't really hate that. You're way beyond trying to hide that you want to fuck her, or that you want her to make you hers anyway.
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butwhyduh · 4 years ago
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Ghosts
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Tim Drake x reader
Warning: grief, maladaptive grieving strategies, alcohol, smut, ghosts
I wrote this probably 3 months ago and just now edited it.
You met Tim Drake at the graveyard. It was a blustery early February day. The snow was on the ground but hadn’t snowed in a few days. A short dry blessing for Gotham. Graveyards were the few places that were treated as sanctuaries that they were. Most people in Gotham knew more than their fair share of loved ones residing in multiple across the city.
You walked down the stone path. In the summer the lazy shade of oak trees covered the path but right now, the bare branches just hung mockingly as they protected only a little from Gotham’s frequently bad winds.
You pulled your coat a little tighter and wished you had grabbed a scarf too. Nevermind, your visit was going to be short. You moved with practiced ease through the tombstones. You knew exactly were they were buried. A delicate iron fence surrounded a small spattering of stones. His family plot.
You walked through the gate to a grave on the right side. A small stone vase was attached to the tombstone. You placed a single white daffodil before standing silently. You had nothing to say. Funny when you miss a final goodbye, you often run out of things to say afterwards. You couldn’t cry. It was too stiff. Too odd. All you could do is sigh deeply before walking out of the yard.
You swiftly walked down the path as you hoped to escape the place that caused so much pain. In your hast, you hadn’t bothered watching for others. People very rarely visited on such cold days. You ran into someone.
“I’m so sorry,” you gasped. You’d ran into a man that was clearly grieving. How terribly rude.
“I’m okay,” he said steadying you with a hand on your elbow.
“I’m so sorry to bother you. I’ll let you be,” you said, flushing even in the cold weather.
“Are you alright?” He asked looking at you carefully. You nodded but didn’t move. “Grief is odd, isn’t it? I had to come down here but feel nothing. Not a damn thing.”
You froze. Most people weren’t this honest. “I get it. Grieving sucks. And it never makes any sense, hu?”
“No. It really doesn’t. I think that I’ll come down here and have a deep conversation with him but nothing comes out. I get over here and feel silly talking to a stone,” he said with a sigh. You looked at him. He was about your age and wore a long black peakcoat and a red scarf that whipped in the wind. His clothes were impeccably tailored but looked almost too mature for him. Something a man closer to 30 would wear rather than a guy around 20. Black hair, icy blue eyes. A little bit of a natural sarcastic smile.
“Sometimes the words come when I sit for a while,” you offered.
“Do you- do you mind if I ask who you were visiting? Not their name but who they were to you? You don’t have to. I just wonder,” he said. You hesitated before speaking.
“My boyfriend. He was my boyfriend. And you?”
“My best friend,” he said. “I don’t visit enough. Not near enough.”
“I understand. I’ll let you be then. So you can talk to them instead,” you said carefully. Most people wanted quiet alone time with their dead loved ones. Unlike you. You felt a sense of relief. At least your ghosts weren’t speaking to you when there was someone there.
“Please don’t,” he said quickly. Perhaps not. Maybe you weren’t the only one haunted by ghosts, even if his was more metaphorical. “I just hate being here alone. You don’t have to stay. I’m just a weirdo asking you to hang around a random grave.”
“It’s okay. I really hate being here alone too,” you said barely over a whisper. He nodded. “Do you- do you want to talk about them?”
“Him. Not really. He was just so young. To be dead already,” he said. You looked at the headstone. Yes 22 was far too young to be in the ground. You didn’t say anything.
“I’ll wake up and forget he’s dead sometimes,” he said playing with his fingers roughly. “And it’s like he dies all over again.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll have a dream so vivid that it’s like he’s back. Sleeping can be so cruel, can’t it?” You said, feeling your throat tighten a little.
“It’s the worst. I just see his death over and over. I think my mind hates me sometime,” he admitted before gulping. You nodded again. You didn’t trust your voice not to break and you could bear to cry.
“You’re freezing,” he said suddenly, looking at you. “Here,” he offered you his scarf and put it around your neck before you could truly protest. His soft cologne invaded your senses. “Do you want get a drink? Or a coffee?”
“I could use a drink,” you answered and he nodded. He kicked the dirt with the tip of his shoes.
“There’s a little pub around the corner. They play cliche Irish music but it’s pretty quiet with good drinks,” he said.
“What’s your name?” You asked.
“Tim. Yours?” He asked back and you told him your first name. “Drinks? It’s cool if not.”
“Yes. I’m half frozen at this point,” you admitted.
“I can tell. You need to wear more layers,” Tim said with a small smirk.
“Is that Gotham’s version of ‘you’re not from around here?’” You asked. He huffed in amusement.
“Basically. You’re from somewhere warmer,” he said. You shrugged in agreement. “Let’s get going before you freeze.”
“It would be the most ironic place to die,” you responded. He shook his head but didn’t seem upset at your dark humor.
The pub was Irish themed in a way that made you wonder if they did anymore research besides the color green and putting on Flogging Molly which isn’t really Irish anyways. But it was warm and smelled like fried food. You sat in a cramped booth in the back and you couldn’t help but notice just how out of place Tim looked. Everything about him screamed rich and this was a working class bar. Tim didn’t seem to mind though.
“Are you hungry,” he asked and you realized you had a rumbling in your stomach. When was the last time you ate?
“Yeah. I wasn’t hungry until just now,” you commented.
“Yeah I usually force myself to eat,” he said waving over the waiter, a tall skinny guy that looked about 14 with almost white blond hair wet with sweat. You both ordered food and drinks.
“What do you do for a living,” you asked Tim as the food arrived. You were finally warm.
“My job is really boring. I work in investment in a technological corporation,” he said and your eyebrows rose. Tim shedded his coat. “I told you, boring.”
“Sounds... serious,” you said with a little smile and he chuckled. His smile was handsome and he had pretty blue eyes.
“Well, yeah. What do you do? Is your job fun?” He asked in a teasing voice. Even as you smiled back at him, you felt guilty. How could you be happy right now?
“I’m a painter. Or I’d like to be. I mainly design advertisements for companies right now,” you said.
“Painting? That actually sounds fun,” he said a little surprised. “Sorry. I haven’t really been around people since...”
“Yeah. It’s hard to be there when their happy and you’re...” you said. Great. You just made it dark again.
“Yeah...”
“Hey pretty lady,” a drunk man said, sitting next to you in the booth, pushing you closer to the wall. “Have I seen an angel on a star, or whatever.”
“Okay, let’s get going,” Tim said standing up and putting his hand on the guy’s shoulder and the guy shrugged him off. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“How do you know, rich boy? Maybe she wants to talk to a real man,” he said with a lopsided grin.
“I don’t,” you breathed as he leaned towards you. You pulled back against the wall. Tim pulled the man out of the booth. The guy growled and sized Tim up. He must have thought he had a good chance, being at least 4-5 inches taller and 50 lbs or more heavier.
He took a drunken swing at Tim who easily deflected away from him. The man didn’t stop but tried to punch Tim again. When he deflected another attack, the man grew even more red faced and tried to tackle Tim against the table. Before the gasp you made could fully come out, Tim had slipped out of the way and grabbed the back of the man’s neck and popped his face on the table. The man slid down unconscious to lay on the floor.
You stared with your mouth slightly agape. What the hell just happened??
“Are you okay?” Tim asked and you stuttered before assuring him you were. “Then we should probably get going. The bar won’t like this.”
“It’s a pub,” you corrected.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he said and you snapped out of it as he grabbed your hand and left out the building before the owner could throw you out. He instead screamed out the door that neither of you could come back. You and Tim ran down the street before stopping at the next block. You laughed loudly and after a confused second, Tim joined. He was still holding your hand.
“That’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” you said loudly before Tim shushed you. “How did you? He didn’t even get one hit in,” you breathed.
“Luck I guess?”
“Not a chance. You do karate or something,” you said, standing way too close to him. He grinned at you.
“Some Krav Maga. A little Jui Jitsu,” Tim said almost shyly and you nodded.
“I’ll pretend to know know what those are,” you said and he chuckled. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Tim said staring at you. You caught him looking down at your lips. He was really handsome and had just saved you. Cliche? Totally. Did you care? No.
You put your arm on his other shoulder, Tim’s free hand slid to hold your waist. He bent until he was just short of kissing you. All you had to do was lean up to kiss him.
“Can I?” He breathed.
“Yes,” you whispered. He pressed his lips against yours. The kiss started gentle but before long Tim’s hand held your jaw as he pushed his tongue in your mouth. You made a little breathy moan. Tim pulled back to catch a breath but still rested his forehead against yours. You grabbed his collar and pulled him back in. He grasped your back and pressed your body against his. You were panting when you finally pulled your lips apart.
“My place is a few blocks away,” you breathed. He gave you a questioning look. “If you, if you wanna come back.” He nodded before giving you a dizzying kiss. “Through this alley and we’ll be there in 2 minutes.”
“You shouldn’t walk through alleys,” he said before giving you another kiss. You pulled him along.
“I think I’m fine with you.” You said kissing him before walking some more.
“Okay but still. Alleys are dangerous.” He answered before you placed another kiss on his lips.
“Yeah, and we’re out of the alley now,” you said. “And here’s my building,” you said suddenly shy. You didn’t want your neighbors seeing you kissing some random guy. Especially one obviously rich like Tim. He probably didn’t even know he stuck out. You pulled away from him.
You unlocked the door and quietly offered for him to walk in. Where did your boldness go? Tim stepped in and you thanked your stars that you had cleaned up that morning.
“Do you want a drink?” You asked as you shut the door. Tim hung his coat on a coat rack that had come with the places. He shook his head and walked over to you. His eyes looked over your body like he wanted to eat you.
“What do you want?” You whispered. He looked down at you with dark eyes. His lips were red from your kissing.
“You?” He said more as a question. Can I have you?
“Hmm,” you said with a little smirk before pulling him down by the collar to kiss more. Tim’s hands roamed your body, gentle at first and then more aggressive.
You knew you shouldn’t bring a man home. Not a one night stand. Especially because you were grieving. Emotional. But as dusk fell outside your window and his hands held you firmly, you couldn’t help but be grateful that he was chasing your ghosts away. He leaned over your in bed, his lips pressed against your collarbone as he fingered you.
“Do you have condoms?” He breathed against your skin in a rough voice.
“Bedside table, top drawer,” you answered. Tim reached over to grab one. “Are you sure? Do you want this?” He asked, holding it in hand.
“Yes,” you said taking the condom to roll it on yourself. Tim breathed out quickly as you jerked a few times before sliding it on. He leaned over you and carefully looked over your face before sliding in.
You arched into his touch as he moved. His touch was soft, sweet, cautious. But not in the way anyone in your life treated you. There was no pity. You weren’t a broken doll to be tiptoed around. He was grieving too. His movement sped up as you both got closer and you got out of your head.
You softly moaned his name as you came. Tim groaned before resting his forehead against yours as he finished. He pulled out and threw the condom away. He pulled on his boxers but didn’t seem to know what to do next.
“Stay,” you said and he looked at you surprised.
“Are you sure?”
“Just-just tonight. I hate sleeping alone,” you said, feeling small. The idea of him leaving had the place feel colder, darker. Tim seemed to deliberate in his head before nodding.
“I can stay just tonight,” he said and you weren’t quite sure if he was telling you or himself. He climbed in bed and you scooted closer. He laid on his side and you slid closer to spoon. It was comforting to hear another heartbeat and feel the warmth of a body. It’d been months since you’d had that. Even if it was just one night, you didn’t feel alone. It felt secure and you quickly fell asleep.
You woke up to the unfamiliar but pleasant sensation of laying on a man’s chest wrapped up tight in blankets. A steady heartbeat and warm skin was soothing in the early morning light. You almost drifted off to sleep to the sounds of his breathing when you saw her.
A ghost. A woman in her late 30s or early 40s in conservative upper class women clothing that wasn’t too out of date. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she looked down at you both in disapproval. Her nose looked like Tim’s and she had the same black straight hair as he did.
You gulped and tried to blink her away. That worked some times. Not today. It was weird to see her anyways. Wasn’t it his make best friend that died? Who was she? She stepped closer and you stiffened. She was self-aware and was trying to speak to you. A very determined ghost indeed.
Tim moved in his sleep as if he could sense her presence. She reached out her hand as if she wanted to push the hair back on his forehead. You gasped as she moved closer. What kind of fucking ghost...? Tim woke up and she disappeared with a pop.
“You okay? You look scared or something,” he said in a rough pretty morning voice. You debated answering him truthfully that he was haunted by a mean looking woman but decided against it. He was a one night thing right?
“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” you said and he nuzzled closer.
“Hmm I’d rather have breakfast,” he muttered kissing your neck. You flushed. You hadn’t bothered shopping in a while.
“I don’t really- my fridge is-“
“Not the kind I’m talking about,” Tim said gently pushing you to your back.
“Oh,” you said as he slid beneath the sheets. You certainly weren’t complaining as he kissed down your body. He was good at it but it was also a great tactile distraction. Ghosts weren’t there when you were far to busy to see them.
It’s a little different so let me know what you think.
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sylvies-chen · 3 years ago
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Test Runs
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Summary: Matt agrees to help Sylvie babysit a 5-month-old Brian Cruz for the night to help Chloe and Joe out, and gets a glimpse at a life with Sylvie he thought he could only ever dream of.
Words: ~5.5K
Warnings: None?? It’s just pure baby fever and heart eyes and canon-compliant established Brettsey
Tagging: @fighterkimburgess Cíara, this one’s for you. I hope you enjoy your much anticipated gift— and some very long, plot-less tooth rotting fluff :)
A/N: I don't know what this is and I'm pretty sure I zoned out while writing this so let me know what you think of this because this is the least edited thing I've ever written lol
“Please don’t be mad at me.”
Matt’s in the locker room at the end of a tiringly long shift when he hears Sylvie’s voice coming from behind him.
Their shift has been filled with an endless amount of intense calls. House fires, a harrowing ambo call according to Sylvie, car crashes galore. He’s more than ready to go home and enjoy his next few days off. He and Sylvie had even agreed to make tonight a date night, staying in with a bottle of wine and watching a movie (or, in their case, not watching a movie). It makes him even happier to be done with this shift. Just a regular, normal, peaceful night.
That’s what it’s supposed to be, at least. Only he hears his girlfriend’s voice and, instead of its usual soothing effect on him, is filled with something tense and nervous. He turns around and lo and behold, Sylvie’s standing in front of him with a perpetual wince.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“I may or may not have told Joe and Chloe I’d babysit Brian for them tonight,” she explains nervously, her palms stretched out flat against each other. “Which means I’m going to have to take a raincheck on that date night we’d planned.”
Matt instantly finds it hilarious that she’d been so worried to tell him about it. “Sylvie, it’s fine,” he assures her. “Date night can be any night, we’ll just postpone it for another day.”
“Really? You’re not bummed out?” “I’m extremely bummed out,” he corrects her, his hands flying to her arms and rubbing circles on them gently with his thumbs. “But I’m not mad. I just wanted to spend time with you after a long shift, that’s all.”
“I know,” she sighs. “I’m sorry. Joe just kept going on and on about how he and Chloe haven’t had a minute to themselves since the baby was born and I just remember thinking how, if that were you and I, it’d make me really sad not getting to have a night off with you.”
Matt swears his heart melts right then and there. Sylvie’s compassion is pretty much endless but when she mixes it with that adorably longing look in her eye, and with words like that? Yeah, Matt’s a total goner.
Things between him and Sylvie have been going so great. They’re going on six months and not a single day goes by where he doesn’t feel like the happiest guy in the world. He knows tonight is one of their only nights off between shifts and he’d prefer not to have to share her quite yet during those nights but Joe and Chloe are their friends, Sylvie was right to offer them a kind gesture.
So an idea forms.
Matt’s always been good with kids, he’ll never complain at getting the chance to look after one. Especially not when it’s with the woman he loves. Besides, he sort of loves the idea of spending the night watching Sylvie gush over Brian Cruz. She was sort of adorable with Amelia, he can only assume it will be the same with Brian.
So much for a normal, peaceful night. (Although frankly, Matt thinks normal is overrated.)
“What if I came with you?”
“What?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “What if I looked after him with you? I’m sure Joe and Chloe wouldn’t mind, I’d be more than willing to give you an extra set of hands.”
She gives him a puzzled, slightly skeptical look. “So you mean to tell me,” she starts, “that you want to spend one of your few nights off in between shifts babysitting a screaming, crying, spitting five-month-old baby, just… because I am?”
“That’s sort of the idea, yeah,” he chuckles. “I’m good with kids, I can handle a little spit-up. Besides, I’ll take any time I can get with you.”
Ok. So maybe that was a little cheesy. It still rings true nonetheless. Spending time with her in any capacity is good enough for him-- and he has a feeling this will be a lot of fun.
She seems to think the same thing too, and smiles sweetly at him. “How did I get so lucky?”
“You just are,” he shrugs amusedly and leans in to kiss her soundly, sinking into it for a minute before he realizes he shouldn’t get carried away when they’re in the locker room. He’ll save the PDA for Stella and Severide. When he pulls away, she moves to pick up her bag and shut her locker, the two of them ready to leave. “So I’ll pick you up then? What time did they want you there?”
“5:00. But I should warn you,” Sylvie warns teasingly with a pointed index finger. “I will be singing a lot of Wiggles songs. It will not be sexy.”
He lets out a chuckle from deep in his chest and Sylvie returns the laugh as she heads out of the locker room and to her car. Even when she’s gone, Matt can still feel himself smiling like an idiot.
Like he said: Sylvie Brett makes him feel like the happiest guy in the world.
“Hey. You’re in a good mood.” Matt’s about to get his own bag and leave when he turns around to see Severide coming into the locker room.
“Yeah, well, I’m on babysitting duty tonight,” he explains. “With Sylvie. Joe and Chloe needed some time off so she volunteered and I thought I’d tag along.”
“Uh-oh,” Kelly teases. “I sense a little baby fever coming on.”
“What? No, Sylvie’s not baby-crazy, it’s not like that.”
“I’m not talking about her,” Severide explains. “I’m talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. You’re a sucker for kids, man. You’ve wanted them for as long as I’ve known you. You’re going to have that little pipe dream back in your head by the end of the night, I’m telling you,” he warns, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I’ll be fine,” Matt grumbles in response. “I think I can handle one night of babysitting. Besides, we’re just helping Cruz. Kids are something for down the line. Way down the line.”
“So you have thought about it,” Kelly replies victoriously, raising a single, cocky eyebrow.
“What about you and Kidd, huh?” Matt knows deflecting won’t work forever, but he’s not ready to admit to himself that he has thought about it, nevermind Severide. So switching the subject back onto his best friend seems like the safe option. “You’re the ones who are married now. You two haven’t thought about having kids?”
Kelly bites his tongue, blushes slightly. It’s a rare occurrence for him, but one reserved uniquely for all matters related to Stella. “Maybe,” Severide shrugs. “But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” Matt huffs, picking up his bag and shutting his own locker. “I can handle myself. I was just giving you a heads up in case you wondered why I wasn’t at the loft. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Matt heads out after that making a beeline for his truck before anyone else can question him about this.
Severide doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He and Sylvie are enjoying their time together right now, taking things at their own pace. Matt’s not about to ruin that for some fantasy he had that’s slowly dissipated. After all, what’s the point in wanting kids if you don’t have someone you want to have them with? After Gabby, he’d given up on that until what was once a pipe dream became something completely irrelevant and blurry in the back of his mind. Besides, six months of dating is a little soon to be thinking about that. There’s about a million steps they have to go through first, a million milestones before kids would be in the question. So yeah. He and Sylvie are not in any rush. For now, Matt is perfectly happy to be able to wake up to her for as many mornings as he can. Just him and her. That’s always going to be enough for him, no matter what. His small fantasies are a thing of the past.
At least, that’s what he tells himself as he drives home to the loft and gets ready to pick Sylvie up. He repeats it over and over until eventually, it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.
********
When Sylvie hops into his truck, she’s wearing jeans and an old graphic t-shirt. She figures it’s best to wear something she won’t mind dirtying a little. She explains this to Matt when they’re in his truck and he nods thoughtfully at her smart thinking. He even leans over to kiss her on the cheek while waiting for one of the traffic lights to turn red. Only then does it truly register in Sylvie’s head about what they’re doing tonight.
They’re really, truly, spending an entire night together with their friend’s adorable baby.
She really hadn’t expected Matt to offer his help tonight. She doesn’t need the help-- Sylvie knows her way around a five-month-old, after all-- but he’d offered it anyway which somehow makes it even sweeter. Joe and Chloe had been more than okay with it. There’s no one more decent and reliable than Matt Casey, after all. Together, Brian Cruz is guaranteed to spend the whole night being showered with love. She’s sure of that, so she’d obviously been thrilled to have him tag along for babysitting. Until the weight of it all sinks in, that is.
Things between them have been going so great. It’d taken them longer than she’d hoped to sort out their feelings but it’d made the release all the more satisfying. They’re here now, together. And even though they’re only six months into this relationship, she knows that she’s never backing out. This is it; for both of them. It adds an extra layer to her happiness, knowing that everything she does with him will be her last firsts. It’s wonderful and beautiful in all the best ways. They’re still fairly early on in their relationship though. She doesn’t have an exact plan for the future-- it’s the only thing she can’t plan out thoroughly, unfortunately-- but she knows six months is still fresh in the grand scheme of things. And whereas she thinks a kid or two might be nice, it’s still too early to have a conversation that’s that detailed with him. Up until now, she’d been perfectly fine avoiding that talk. Now though, it’s going to be the big, plus elephant in the room. They’re getting a glimpse at what it would be like to have a kid together. It seems silly, but she’s almost scared to let her mind wander.
She goes over it in her head quietly in the car. It’s not a big deal, she reminds herself. They’ll just look after Brian, have some fun, and put him to bed at a reasonable hour. And most importantly, under no circumstances will daydreaming about their future be allowed. Ever.
They reach Joe and Chloe’s house and Matt takes her hands as they reach the front door. She’s been quiet the rest of the car ride, ever since he kissed her on the cheek. She’d gotten so preoccupied reminding herself not to get ahead of herself tonight that it’d picked up his attention, but she gives his hand a gentle squeeze as they wait for Joe and Chloe to answer the door and he smiles, thinking nothing of her quiet mood.
“Hey,” Joe greets them when the front door finally opens. His face is beaming, and it really dawns on Sylvie how excited he must be for tonight. He and Chloe haven’t been out of the house for weeks, never spending more than five minutes alone without baby Brian Cruz. “Come on in.”
Sylvie flashes a friendly smile and lets go of Matt’s hand to step inside, looking around the place. Chloe’s putting her earrings on in the mirror, preparing the finishing touches of her date night outfit. Which, in Sylvie’s opinion, is gorgeous. Saying her friend looks amazing is almost an understatement. “Don’t you look fancy,” Sylvie teases from behind Chloe. “Sylvie! We’re so glad you two were able to make it,” Chloe cheers, leaning in to give Sylvie a tender hug and then doing the same for Matt. “Thank you so much for this. We owe you one.” “Don’t worry about it,” she hears Matt speak. “I think we’re both just happy to lend a helping hand, right?”
He looks to Sylvie with raised eyebrows, and she nods in agreement. “Yes, we really are. You two seriously deserve some time off.”
“You’re right about that,” Joe nods. “I thought being a firefighter would mess with my sleep schedule but it’s nothing compared to this kid.”
“Where is Brian anyway?” She asks.
“He’s in his crib right now, hang on,” Chloe tells her, stepping into the room next to them and pulling Brian out of his crib. The little boy sits perfectly against his mother’s chest, his feet dangling slightly. He’s wearing a onesie too, the light blue fabric covered with little robots. It’s quite possibly the cutest thing Sylvie’s ever seen and she has to fight back the urge to coo at him.
“Say hi to Auntie Sylvie and Uncle Matt, sweet cheeks!” Chloe coos to her son, grabbing his tiny hand and waving it at Sylvie and Matt for him. He can’t talk yet but he flashes a smile at them and it melts Sylvie’s heart. Man. Tonight is going to be amazing and yet so tough to get through. “So there’s fresh formula in the fridge but we just fed him so he should be fine for the night. His toys are all laid out on the floor if he needs tummy time and we normally put him to bed at 7:00. If there’s anything you guys need or any questions, just call us. We’re bringing our phones with us and the number for the pediatrician is on the counter just in case,” Joe explains to them.
“Got it,” Sylvie nods.
“Ok,” Chloe nods to herself, handing Brian over to Sylvie. The small boy fits just as nicely against Sylvie’s chest but he tries to turn his head as soon as she holds him, urgently looking for his mom. Chloe stands back, staring at Brian nervously. “I gotta go now, buddy. I’ll see you later.”
“It’s harder than you expected, isn’t it?” Sylvie asks her, already well aware of the answer. Leaving your kid with a sitter is tough, she imagines, especially when it’s your first kid.
“Yes,” Chloe admits, slightly pained. “I know it’s only a few hours but we’re going to miss him.”
“We’ll take good care of him, we promise,” Matt assures them, already moving closer to Sylvie to see Brian and let his tiny hand wrap around his thumb. “Thanks again you guys,” Joe nods appreciatively.
“Of course, anytime. Now go on, have fun, you crazy kids,” Sylvie teases.
“Alright, bye!” Chloe keeps waving until their front door is fully shut, leaving Matt and Sylvie in total silence.
Matt glances at Sylvie up and down, taking in the sight of her with baby Brian, and something in his eye lights up. It sends a warm tingling down Sylvie’s spine, but he just nods at her. “He really is a cute baby.”
“I know,” she raves instantly. “Look at how small his little hands are!”
“You’re just so tiny, aren’t you, little buddy?” Matt talks to Brian, wiggling his hand.
Brian giggles, his arms wiggling amusedly at Matt’s gesture. He looks over at the front door though, waits expectantly for Chloe and Joe to come back in. A few seconds pass where Matt and Sylvie watch as Brian stares at the door. It’s almost as if everything that happens next happens in slow motion. They watch as his face turns back to Sylvie, his twinkling eyes turning sad as his face sours. The wail comes next, matched with flailing arms as Sylvie feels his body shaking in her arms.
He’s not hungry, Joe said he and Chloe just fed him. And he can’t be tired since they haven’t done anything with him yet. So really, he just misses his parents. It’s not all that abnormal for a kid his age but it still hurts Sylvie’s heart, watching this little guy wail in her arms.
“Oh no,” she blurts out, slightly panicked. “Shh, it’s okay! We’re right here. I know you miss your mommy and daddy but they’ll be back soon, I promise.”
He continues to wail, sticking his hand out and wiggling to try and get to the front door. “Who am I kidding, you don’t understand what that means,” she mumbles under her breath, beginning to bounce him.
His wailing isn’t as shrill after the bouncing starts but he’s still crying at a volume comparable to 61’s sirens. She tries her best to calm him down but it seems unsuccessful. Dammit. Sylvie and Matt aren’t five minutes into this night and Brian’s already crying.
The reminder that Matt’s there is enough to snap her out of it. Only she turns to where he was not five seconds ago and he’s gone. “Matt?”
“I’m in here, just a second,” he calls from the family room. Sylvie moves down the hallway away from the entrance to find him. When she does, he’s hovering over a small, wooden chest and rifling through it. Brian’s still crying as she pats his back and offers soothing hushes.
“I think we just broke Cruz and Chloe’s baby,” Sylvie tries teasing, her face still making a worried wince. “Shh, it’s okay Brian. You’re okay, it’s okay.” Matt grabs something out of the chest, moving to close the space between him, Sylvie and Brian. “Here,” he tells her, revealing the little, plush blue and green robot in his hand. “I figured a toy might distract him.”
“Right, good idea,” she nods, turning to meet baby Brian’s eye again as he grabs a fistful of her hair. “Uncle Matt has some of your toys, you want to play with them?”
Sylvie turns him so he can see Matt, who extends the soft plush robot and wiggles it playfully.
“I bet you like that one, huh? He even matches your pyjamas,” Matt points out.
Brian instantly becomes mesmerized with the toy, his eyes sparkling as they follow it’s trail as it moves in the air. His cheeks are still glossy with tears but he sticks out a hand to clumsily grab at the toy. The shift from upset beyond consolation to pure fascination with something so simple as a toy robot is enough to astound Sylvie-- and, admittedly, send relief washing through her body.
As soon as her shoulders relax, she feels Brian relax in her arms too. He even smiles as she wipes his cheeks clean of the tears, pointing towards the toy and cooing incoherently. Matt keeps wiggling the toy and bobbing his head along with the toy, eventually handing it to Brian and letting him play with it on his own. He squishes the robot’s rectangular head, then mimics Matt’s movements with it and moves it around in the air. Sylvie watches in happy surprise. She’s about to move her head to send a bewildered yet appreciative look at Matt but when her eyes look up, he’s already looking at her. There’s a slight twinkle in his eye, similar to the one Brian had when he saw the robot. It’s nothing but pure wonder, and her heart skips a beat.
Up until now, she’d been trying to keep herself from getting ahead of herself. Apart from the logical reasons of it being really early and soon on in their relationship, Sylvie also just doesn’t want to freak him out with baby fever. But he’s staring at her as she coddles Brian, a smile dancing over his face, and it seems pointless.
Maybe she’s not the only one picturing them doing this with a kid of their own.
Maybe, he’s just as much of a daydreamer as she is.
********
Matt’s not trying to give himself away too much. He swears he isn’t.
But damn. If Sylvie with this little Cruz baby isn’t the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, he doesn’t know what is. It’s been an hour since they arrived at the Cruz residence. An hour since they’d walked in and immediately had to deal with a screaming, crying baby Brian. Thankfully, they mellow out pretty quickly after that. Matt and Sylvie pull out as many toys as they can and try to distract him. His tears dissipate as they play around, keeping the young child preoccupied.
Sylvie, as promised, even starts dancing and singing Wiggles songs. Matt started out singing and dancing with her but Brian had tried crawling away while they were both up so he’s now sitting next to Brian, who’s on his stomach on his mat in the family room propping himself up to watch the show as Sylvie keeps dancing and singing.
“The Big Red Car rolls along the street
And to all the people that we meet, we like to say hello
Say hello! To the people that we meet!”
Sylvie sings, spins around, and does comically dramatic gestures as Matt claps along with Brian, making a few sound effects himself to help out with the number. The songs are too catchy not to sing along, so he does. That just seems to make the baby giggle even more, and he tries crawling over closer towards Sylvie.
She finishes the song and does small but amusing jazz hands, practically out of breath. “That was exhausting,” she exhales heavily. “How’s that for entertainment, little guy?”
He coos and waves his arms around in the air, trying to cheer for her. Matt chuckles and claps along himself, keeping an expectant eye on Brian.
The baby keeps wagging his arms though, and when they realize he’s asking for an encore Sylvie leans over with her hands on her knees in exhaustion. “You want more of this?” She addresses Brian, not expecting a response. “We’ve been at this for nearly an hour, I’m getting more of a workout from this than from Foster’s infamous spin classes. How is he not more exhausted?”
“Different sleep schedule, I guess,” Matt shrugs. “Don’t worry, you can tap out and I’ll take over.”
“More romantic words have never been spoken,” she replies teasingly with a relieved groan. She wipes at her brow and moves to find space on the mat but instead of the encore, Brian turns to her.
“Oh,” Matt says. “Looks like he doesn’t want more singing and dancing after all.”
The young boy starts reaching for Sylvie’s hair, grasping at the blonde strands that fall just above her shoulders. He manages to find a fistful but Sylvie pulls him in closer so he can grab her hair without yanking it. “I think he likes you,” Matt points out with a grin. “Good, my plan is working,” she teases, resting her head ever so lightly on Brian’s head. “I’m hoping to work my way up to his favourite aunt by the time he’s two. I’m going to be your favourite, aren’t I, little man?”
Brian coos in her lap, smiling wide at Sylvie. But he looks over at Matt and reaches out from Sylvie’s hold to grab at Matt’s hand too. Matt’s heart melts.
“He seems to like you too,” Sylvie adds.
“Yeah, I’ve never met a baby with so much trust in people,” Matt replies. “And so many robot toys too. What’s up with that?” He gestures at the spread of robot toys they arranged in a row on Brian’s mat.
“I think Joe was hoping he’d get him interested in tech stuff like Otis was,” Sylvie explains, a wistful sigh falling over her. Matt gets serious too-- not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of their dear, fallen friend. Thinking of where Brian Cruz gets his name from is always a sharp reminder of Otis, and this new piece of information doesn’t make it any better.
Matt throws Sylvie a sympathetic look, which is returned. There’s nothing much to say to that, nothing but to let there be a gentle and solemn moment of silence as Brian wiggles in Sylvie’s criss-crossed legs on the floor.
The silence is broken when he crawls out of Sylvie’s lap, slowly finding his way to Matt. Somehow, some way, he can sense Matt’s heavy heart and reaches to grab his hand. Brian doesn’t try to lift it, just puts one hand around Matt’s thumb and one around his pinky. He looks up at Matt, his eyes twinkling energetically.
“I bet your mom and dad tell you all sorts of stories about Uncle Otis, don’t they?” Matt asks as he lifts Brian into the air. He giggles, waving his arms and toes in his little onesie. Matt knows the kid can’t talk yet but he takes that as a yes. When Matt brings him back down from the air, he presses a kiss to the kid’s forehead and pulls back with the small smack of his lips. It makes Brian laugh even more.
Man. He really is a cute kid. Maybe Severide was right, maybe Matt’s already feeling that little pipe dream of his coming back. Because he’s sitting there with this tiny little kid in his arms, having the time of his life as Sylvie watches them amusedly, and it feels like he’s getting a glimpse at their future. The idea of a family, one with someone he loves as much as Sylvie, feels so right. It’s enough to send a warm and electric feeling throughout his body.
“This is fun,” Matt admits to her, meeting her eye with a hesitant but hopeful gaze.
Sylvie pulls her lip in between her teeth, fighting a smile. “Yeah, it is,” she nods. “It’s nice, I’m glad you offered to tag along. It’s like a little test run.”
“Test run?” Her eyes widen slightly and her cheeks heat up ever so slightly, to the point where Matt thinks he imagined it for a second. “I-- I mean, for babysitting,” she backtracks, shaking her head. “You know, if Joe and Chloe decide somewhere down the line that they need more nights out.”
Matt’s heart skips a beat.
Sylvie’s a terrible liar. She knows it, he knows it, all of 51 knows it. He can tell when she’s fibbing. She gets all flustered, fumbles her words just like she is now. Only now, he can see right through it and it excites him beyond comparison. He can see it in her eyes: she’s been thinking about kids just as much as he has.
“Right,” Matt chuckles lightly, going along with it. “For babysitting.”
She knows he can see right through him and sucks in a sharp breath. She looks more hesitant than he does now. “I don’t know, a kid or two might be nice somewhere down the line,” she admits nervously. “Right?”
“It would,��� he replies softly with a smile. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it once or twice tonight.”
“Really?” When Matt nods, she smiles and her shoulders relax.
“Well Severide said I should probably keep that to myself but I don’t care.”
“I don’t want you to keep it to yourself,” she tells him firmly but kindly. “You, Matt Casey, are always allowed to share what you see in our future with me. Okay?”
“Okay,” he nods happily. “I guess this test run isn’t so bad then, is it? If we’re on the same page about things.”
“No, it isn’t.” Her eyes light up and it’s all the confirmation Matt needs that he’s not alone in his baby fever. Their eyes stay fixed on each other, a soft and exciting tension washing over them.
The moment, however, is interrupted by Brian. He’s still in Matt’s arms but Matt suddenly hears what is probably the quietest, cutest yawn he’s ever heard come from Brian’s mouth.
“It’s getting late,” Sylvie realizes.
“Yeah, his bedtime was…” Matt checks the clock and his eyebrows immediately shoot up. “Twenty minutes ago?”
Sylvie looks at the baby in Matt’s arms, surprised. “You really had a lot of energy tonight, didn’t you? You were dancing past your bedtime, little buddy!” “Well I don’t blame him, your performance was very entertaining,” Matt muses. “Maybe a little too good,” she realizes with a giggle. “Come on, let's put him in the crib.”
“Aw come on,” Matt pleads. “Just a few more minutes? I don’t think he wants to move.”
“You are a bad influence, Matt Casey.” Sylvie shakes her head amusedly. She soaks in the sight though and can’t resist. Brian is draped over Matt's chest, his head now resting on his shoulder as his eyes flutter tiredly. Matt’s hand covers the little boy’s entire back, rubbing circles on it gently as he stabilizes the boy. Sylvie bites her lip for the second time that night and Matt knows she’s going to concede. “He does seem to be comfortable there though,” she counters reluctantly.
“Very comfortable,” he corrects her. What can he say? He just wants to sit in this little fantasy of his for a little longer. He so rarely lets himself hope like this that it feels almost necessary to extend this for as long as possible. Besides, Brian Cruz is adorable, it’d be crazy if he didn’t think of a kid of his own-- at least a little-- while he’s here. “I, however, am not.”
“Well here, come up to the couch. That’ll be more comfortable for the both of you,” she tells him, her voice now hushed and soothing so as to calm Brian down and not interrupt his process of slowly falling asleep.
Matt carefully gets up and shifts onto the couch, Brian still in his arms. He leans back and lets Brian sprawl out against his chest. The boy is light, no more than 15 pounds, but it’s still enough to put a light pressure on Matt’s chest.
He doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s the opposite. He loves it.
Sylvie stands up too, clearing the toys off the floor as Matt watches Brian’s breathing, the rise and fall of the small boy’s chest against his. It’s weirdly soothing and he soon feels his breathing match Brian’s, his eyes fighting to stay open. The singing and dancing and playing around really took the energy out of both of them.
When she’s done, she looks down at the two fatigued boys, smiling gently at the sight before curling up next to Matt on the couch. She holds Brian’s hand with her index and her thumb, and runs a soft hand over his head, before Matt’s arm wraps around her shoulder and she tucks her head in the nape of his neck.
“That’s better,” Matt beams, a tired smile on his face. He moves to press a kiss to Sylvie’s forehead.
“Much better,” she agrees quietly. “But we shouldn’t stay like this forever. He’ll need to go to his crib soon.”
“We’ll put him there soon,” he tells her. “Just five more minutes, babe…”
********
Wake up.
She feels those words ring through her body like an alarm. It sends the lights in her brain slowly turning back on as she eases into consciousness.
The first thing she sees, just barely and surrounded by a tired blur in her vision, is Matt. Brian’s still on his chest, both of them sleeping soundly. She smiles to herself, noting how peaceful her boyfriend looks in this position. Everything feels so warm. She’s cuddled up next to him, he’s lying with the baby. It all seems so picture perfect. She revels in it, if only for a moment.
She looks up and realizes it’s been twenty minutes since they’d fallen asleep— and Matt had promised only five. For a minute, she considers waking him up and telling him to bring Brian to his crib. She decides against it though, choosing instead to cuddle back into him and relax.
Joe and Chloe are going to be back any minute now. But she’ll be damned if she doesn’t soak every minute of this moment in. Before they’d figured things out and gotten together, Sylvie had scarcely allowed herself to feel things for him, nevermind daydream about the life they could have. But she looks at them, sees how truly good and comfortable Matt is with Brian, and can’t stop now. It’s addicting, dreaming about her future with Matt Casey. She intends to chase that feeling like it’s her only fix, especially since now she knows he’s thought about it too. Her dreams are his; theirs.
To Sylvie, that makes for a pretty good test run.
She falls back into Matt’s embrace, the three of them dozing off. They don’t wake up again until Joe and Chloe come back.
It’s the first night Brian Cruz gets a full night’s worth of sleep.
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jane-from-frebos · 1 year ago
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After some careful consideration of possible outcomes and likelihood of death, I decided to stay away from Frebo's on the Mike and Arkha night but gave Mike a number to send regular check in messages and in case of emergencies (I wasn't going to go over no matter what, but I did want to hear about all the emergencies).
Here are some highlights from the messages he sent me. Yes he texts weirdly formal when he's panicked, only his therapist will know why. I made some edits to fix most of his capitalization and grammar but left a few that felt important/fun:
"here a bit early. Day shift says everything seemed pretty calm."
"Arkha walked through the front door and the power went out in the whole building..."
"Sorry, delayed because right after sending that the dolls started going on parade and I had to convince Jango to take me through the back rooms to get to the hand generator so I could use the spotlight. Lost Arkha."
"Found Arkha at the bottom of the ball pit unconscious but alive. pulled them out and set them aside to rest."
"dolls returned to their pit. Lost Arkha again"
"Jango informed me that Arkha was taken by the Mouse. Went to confront them. They ended up biting me for 15 minutes. Retreated to prize counter. Arkha found. They were in the bathroom. Heard Jango laughing."
"Darts soon, send prayers".
"I FUCKING DID IT".
"nevermind it was apparently only 270, had to fight Sam. Keep seeing him everywhere I look waiting to come back and finish me. Didn't take me to backrooms at least. Lost Arkha again"
"Jango is reciting my top one hundred most cringe inducing interactions over the store speaker. Unclear where he is broadcasting from. The spectre of Sam in my vision is laughing at me. Think I saw Arkha got pulled into the vents but it could've been a hallucination. Been having those. Might have said that already." ((He did not say that already))
"Hey Jane would really appreciate it if you could come down something is in the vents and I don't think it's Arkha." ((I made sure to tab into the message app for this one so he'd get the "read" notification.))
"good news I found Arkha behind the prize counter. They seem fine. Starting realize most of my panic might just be from the hallucinations. Feel a little silly, haha. No need for you to come down."
"JANE IT WASN'T ARKHA I'M BEHIND THE JUKEBOX PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COME HELP" ((I actually considered heading down there at this point just to see not Arkha, you know? But there's a real chance Mike would think I was like a demon and bash my skull in so no thanks!))
"Hey Jane. Managed to calm down enough to remember I had a phone. Charlie shoved me into one of the storage chests and put something heavy on top. Really thought he was about to beat me to death with nunchucks but I guess he's going for suffocation.
I'm going to guess at this point that you are not going to come in until morning which is very fair. When you do though, if you could find this box and free me I would be very appreciative. I will dedicate myself going forward to winning all of the stupid games that you always have to do for me."
"hey Jane can you kindly message Arkha and ask if they're alive? My eyes are telling me that they're in the box with me and horribly dead but I'm suspecting it's a hallucination."
"Dear Jane, Arkha is either dead in this box with me, dead on top of this box, or screaming violently as I hear mop bot whirling in what can only be described as a 'gleeful fashion'. Just trying to keep you updated. If I give you enough updates will you come and save me?"
"Jane. Hallucinatory Sam has left me. Arkha's dead body is gone. I hear no sounds from the outside. I am still stuck in the box. Jane you would tell me if you were a figment of my crumbling sanity, right?"
((I then sent my first actual response of the night, which was "no". At this point we did have a bit of actual conversation because I was a little worried if I left him in isolation that I would open that box in the morning and he would real life murder me. It seemed to calm him down))
"Jane can I be honest with you? I don't think there's actually anything on top of my box. That was part of the hallucinations I think. I really do not wish to leave the box now though. I feel like I'm going to start finding Arkha pieces if I do"
((Took some prodding but I managed to convince him to leave the box, which amusingly turned out to be a clown themed coffin))
"Jane I found Arkha. Jane. Jane Arkha is in the claw machine. Jane Arkha has apparently no memories of tonight since they fucking ball pit. Jane it's not even the haunted claw machine. Jane I have a question for you is Arkha cursed. Is Arkha cursed by a real actual Eldritch being. Is that why you swapped shifts with me Jane. Is that what this has all been for Jane? Is this the hell that you go through when I fail the arcade games? Is this my punishment? Are you god and this is hell? Jane I'm sorry for ever doubting you ever once."
At this point I decided that Mike had suffered enough and with Arkha securely contained in the claw machine I decided to head over with some emergency wine. Sam came over and drank with us and apologized about the psychological warfare. Feel like despite throwing Mike to the wolves for my own entertainment I managed to bond quite a bit with Mike through all this. Dude is kinda a homie. Also him and Sam play the same shitty mobile war game!
The three of us managed to just chill out in the prize counter drinking wine for the rest of the night. Nothing else activated and no animatronics came at us (besides Sam who is included in this group).
Just to be safe I added an entry on Arkha to the entity log. Their containment procedures are "get them stuck in the claw machine."
Also we totally forgot Arkha there and day shift had to get them out while they were opening and the day shift people were really mad at me. So, no consequences basically.
Took a little peak at the manager copy of the schedule and saw Arkha and Mike were going to be holding down the fort tomorrow.
Terrified to see how that ends. Almost want to watch, but there's absolutely no way I'm getting anywhere near that.
Sometimes people call something a "ticking time bomb". I feel like Mike and Arkha working a shift is more of a "clown juggling a warhead" in that eventually it will result in their instant death and widespread mass destruction but god if it didn't I'd wanna see that.
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squiddybeifong · 3 years ago
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Can I ask for the batsiblings reaction to Damian pacing so much he wore a hole in the floor? Doesn't have to be a fics, maybe headcanons?
Sorry for the rather long wait. Kinda wanted to make this a fic
Here's the floor pacing fic
On Ao3 here
--
Alfred hadn’t outwardly reacted to Damian’s obvious lie as to why he had paced the floorboards uneven, but the butler absolutely took action for amending the tripping hazard in the boy’s room. With the floor repairman on the line and a measuring tape in hand nothing was amiss, of course.
Dick had already kept him up-to-date with the gossip about the two Titan birds, so Alfred hadn’t been surprised whatsoever. His position in the family meant that he’d watched the awkward budding romances of most everyone who’d called the Manor home. Damian being frustrated at his feelings for a teammate was nothing compared to a (very grown) Bruce being moody after Selina rebuffed his kiss while ‘on the clock’ or Dick’s increasingly creative attempts at sneaking around with Kori before the ‘no dating metahumans or aliens’ rule had been lifted. Honestly, watching the pun-laden flirting that Steph ladled out to both Tim and Cass on a near daily basis was more awkward than his youngest ward taking his repressed emotions out on the floors.
Unfortunately for Damian, the butler arranged for the floor repairman to show up during the day. Most notably, the repairman arrived at exactly the specified 1:35 p.m., not wanting to be late when called upon to fix anything belonging to Bruce Wayne.
Why Robin had believed that (like everyone else in Gotham) this worker would be fashionably late, he didn’t know. What Damian did know was that he hadn’t heard Grayson open the door. Nor had he heard his brother head up with Alfred and the repairman into his room. And he especially didn’t hear as Alfred slyly mentioned that he believed Dick’s gossip was coming to a head, if the worn path in the floor meant anything.
No, Damian heard none of it. Not when he was busy brushing BatCow and making sure that every square inch of the barn was properly ventilated so she couldn’t possibly overheat in the approaching summer weather. So when the youngest Bat stalked into the Manor, he’d been all but ambushed.
It didn’t take a detective to realize why he’d been pacing so much. Even without Alfred’s confirmation, it was unlike Damian to avoid going back to the Titans early if he could help it. Batman hadn’t looked up when Robin had elected to stay another week when they were in the BatCave, but his siblings sure had. And while Bruce didn’t outwardly ponder about how intense things had to be for Damian to go out of his way to avoid a certain someone, this new information had Dick positively enchanted at the prospect of his baby brother being in love.
“I’m not in love with Raven,” Damian hissed out.
Jason snickered as he reclined in his seat, his face full of mirth at the flustered crack in Damian’s voice. Cass was sitting upside down with her legs resting on the couch’s back, her smile wide as she took in her youngest brother’s irritated, embarrassed body language (nevermind the barest hint of an actual blush on his face when vehemently denying any feelings he had towards his fellow Titan).
Babs’ smile was wide and cheerful as she pointed out, “Who said anything about Raven?” Duke perked up from his spot next to Cass, immediately adding on, “Yeah, Dami. We thought you were just falling for her?”
Steph snorted, “Falling over those footprints in the floor, more like it.”
Tim laughed behind his gulp of his coffee, sleepily (and loudly) drawling out to the blonde, “A Robin and his Raven. Guess you can say they’re a real pair of lovebirds, huh?”
Damian glared at them all, fighting the urge to pinch between his eyes. Why were all the Bats at the Manor? Shouldn’t they be on patrol instead of bothering him?
Jason clicked his tongue and rested his arms on the table. He met Dick’s gaze, saw the way his older brother’s eyes brightened up with mischief and scratched at the streak of white in his hair. Deciding that messing with Damian was by far the most fun he’d have in the Manor that morning, Jason asked, “So, Lil’ D… What’re you gonna get your girlfriend? Can’t come back empty handed.”
“She’s not my--”
Babs interrupted him, nudging Tim with her elbow, “Do not tell me he wasn’t planning on getting her anything.”
Steph lazily rested on the chair’s edge. The blonde leaned over to rest against Jason’s shoulder, her fist pressed to her face. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek; it wasn’t likely she’d be much use for knowing how Raven would want to be wooed. She had heard of her but she had yet to actually meet Damian’s mystery crush, after all. She let out a hum, “What does Raven like? It’s gotta be something personal!”
Damian clicked his tongue as his siblings were suddenly oh so chatty at Spoiler’s suggestion, their unwanted ideas filling the room.
“What if he paints her something?”
“Doesn’t she like old books? Maybe one of those first editions that Alfred was thinking about donating last year?”
“Wait a sec-- Dick, isn’t she goth? B did get that set of obsidian jewelry at the last gala.”
“Hell, if we’re going that route I’m sure Selina has some nice rings somewhere--”
“Maybe something that isn’t stolen, Tim.”
“Just be honest with her.”
The room went quiet at Cass’ simple instruction. Still in her Orphan suit from her early morning patrols and reclining in her inverted spot on the couch, the brunette somehow kept a serious face as she stared at Damian upside down.
Seeing that no one was going to add-on to her suggestion, Cass blew some of her bangs out of her face and shrugged, “You like her for a reason.”
Brown eyes slyly glanced around the room, gratefully falling on Babs as she piped up, “Cass is right. I really don’t think Damian of all people would fall for someone who’s all about dating mind-games.”
Ignoring Damian’s exasperated lie of “I haven’t fallen for her!” in the background, Steph slumped down on the couch next to Duke. Her face was contemplative, “Then maybe we should invite her here?”
Dick let out an excited laugh the same time Tim clapped his hands and grinned at their resident computer whiz, “Babs could absolutely get her up to speed on patrolling Gotham for a bit, right?”
The redhead looked excited at the idea. Pushing her glasses further up her nose before they fell, Babs teasingly asked, “What is it about Gotham and bird-based superheroes?”
Duke shrugged, a hand cradling his chin in thought. “Not sure, but Dami obviously won’t confess if we’re not around to kick him into doing it.”
Jason clicked his tongue at the possibility of the youngest Bat listening to them and raised a brow Dick’s way, “Any chance at all that she’ll make the first move?”
Irritated at the topic, Damian turned on his heel and retreated to the kitchen. Ignoring the chorus of “C’mon, Dami” behind him (and planning on fighting Todd later for the childish boos that the antihero was aiming at his back), Robin set about grabbing some snacks for his pets when he heard two sets of footsteps approach.
He bit back a groan as Dick practically skipped into the room, Cass on his heels. “What now?”
Nightwing let out a laugh at his brother’s sneer, “You do know that we’re only trying to help, right?” He took a few pears from the fridge and handed them to Damian, knowing that they were BatCow’s favorite. Hearing as Cass opened the cabinet doors to find where the rawhide bones and cat treats were stored, Dick pressed on, “I know she already knows me but it might be easier introducing everyone as a segue into talking to her about other things…”
Cass let out a quiet snort at his suggestion. She shook her head and offered a better idea, “Alfred first.”
Dick tilted his head, nodding in agreement a moment later. He ignored the violent way Damian was cutting up the pears and said, “That’ll probably be for the best. Living with the Titans is one thing; we gotta ease her into our particular brand of madness.”
Tossing aside the stems and peeled off stickers, Damian sulked, “None of this is necessary.”
Cass hid her smile with her hand. Dick hummed out, “You don’t want your girlfriend to meet your family?”
“She won’t be my--” Damian couldn’t say the potential title just yet. He clicked his tongue, “Just because you all think I have feelings for her doesn’t mean she’ll reciprocate.”
The older two visibly paused at his words.
Her head tilting in concern, brown eyes studied Robin for a moment. Damian glared at Cass but she ignored him. Dick leaned against the wall, the worried furrow in his brow betraying his nonchalant stance. He spoke out the obvious, “Do you really think she’s not interested?”
“She thinks I’ve been avoiding her--”
Cass shrugged, “You have.”
Damian continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “--so I doubt any feelings she may have towards me are positive right now.”
Dick let out a hum, “You didn’t answer the question.”
Ophan’s suit somehow didn’t shine in the kitchen’s fluorescent light as she crossed her arms, “Yes or no?”
Damian bit the inside of his cheek. It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment as he thought over all the moments he and Raven had shared, the comfortable quiet pauses between crimefighting, training, and avoiding their teammates’ noise. She never seemed to dislike his company, but she was stoic enough that he could never tell if her heart leaped into her throat whenever she noticed that they were alone.
He suppressed a jump as Cass entered his personal space.
Olive eyes were reluctant as she poked his cheek. “You’re not stupid,” She figured it was progress when he didn’t try to swat her hand away, but she couldn’t keep the beam off her face at the boy’s blush. A hint of smugness crept into her voice, “So she is?”
“I don’t know.”
Cass looked to the Manor’s main entrance, knowing that in half a week’s time the entire structure would be full of lights, flowers and who knew what else B’s planners would bring. A spring gala with flowers and enough hidden corners for a pair to get lost in the crowd.
In other terms: the perfect setting for a first date.
She met Dick’s gaze and grinned at the knowing look on his face. His hair nearly fell out of its bun as he let out a whoop, wrapping an arm around Damian. Thoughts of finding Raven a gala-ready dress (and maybe a matching suit) in mind, Dick couldn’t keep the excitement out of his movements.
Ignoring the aggravated yet cautiously hopeful way Damian shrugged off his brother’s arm, Cass clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Only one way to find out.”
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petals42 · 4 years ago
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been so long and now...
Alright, not writing the fic but this is the fic I want to read for julie and the phantoms (okay updated note: I wrote it basically). Going to try to keep this quick (LOL it’s 7k). We’re starting after season 1 here.
[7k, Reggie-centric, Julie POV, child abuse mention, Ray is a good dad.]
Alright, the boys can now touch Julie (sometimes) and can still be seen when playing music, but other than that, it’s not super clear how much actually changes. And after that day in the garage, life seems to even out a bit. Which means Alex is off looking for Willie and Luke and Julie are spending a lot more time writing music together (and okay, maybe that’s new but if both of them ignore it, it's fine) and Reggie is back to hanging out with Ray. 
Ray can’t hear him or see him and the conversations are by necessity very one sided. Either Reggie filling Ray in on his day slash his ideas on ghosthood or Ray talking to himself/the computer but somehow it becomes fairly commonplace for Julie to walk downstairs and find her dad talking to (around?) her dead teenage bandmate. And there are times, sure, where she is like is this weird?? Should i say something about this??? But Reggie is kind of being left on his own a lot and she never really wanted to listen to her dad mutter about cameras and if that’s how Reggie wants to fill his days then… well that’s not her business. Neither party seems to mind. Probably because her dad doesn’t actually know.
Of course, the Julie-magic power does eventually start working more and more and then Carlos knows they are ghosts and then her dad hears them talking in Julie’s room when Luke accidentally starts humming and then catches a glimpse of them in garage when there’s no lights on so he doesn’t see how the hologram is working and--
“It’s time to tell him, I think,” Julie says to the boys and Luke nods and looks excited and Alex twists his hands around his drumsticks the way he does when he is a little anxious (but mostly okay) and when Julie glances over at Reggie, she expects that large megawatt smile that he directs at Flynn or Carlos but instead, he looks even more uncertain than Alex.
“I dunno,” he says, one shoulder raised. “I feel like we have an okay system?”
His concerns get drowned out by Luke and Alex and Julie herself pointing out that her dad is in photography, at some point he is going to realize that this hologram technology does not obey the laws of physics and/or light, plus he keeps almost seeing them just around his house and…
They play a song to tell her dad and lately, the boys have been able to be seen longer and longer, especially when they are just in the studio and don’t officially bow so once her dad gets over the initial shock (which, admittedly, takes him a little longer than Flynn or Carlos), there are introductions and--
Julie finds herself glancing at Reggie the whole time. Waiting for him to bound forward and say that actually he knows all about Ray and actually they’ve hung out quite a bit and actually, it was him that’s been slowly doing the puzzle with Ray in the corner room and maybe the other boys do too because there are a lot more awkward pauses that she thought there would be but Luke seems to realize it halfway through so suddenly he is taking the lead (and maybe trying to impress her father like omg what???) and so it kind of gets forgotten. (especially afterwards, in her room, when her dad lowkey tries to grill her about her relationship with these boys and she doesn’t have good answers and ugggggh maybe they should’ve stayed holograms).
Anyway, things are still mostly normal after that. The boys are not often seen or visible (except more and more to Flynn and sometimes Carlos) and so Reggie is often back to hanging around her dad and one time Julie does ask him “Do you let him know that you’re here?” and “Oh no,” Reggie says. “I wouldn’t want to bother him.” And Julie guesses that’s true, Reggie is normally chilling with her dad when he is editing photos so, alright. Again, she has lots of other things going on. There isn’t much point in digging into this.
Except then-- then the boys start being seen more and more around the whole house. It starts in the studio and then sort of spreads and it’s a weird new normal for sure, them still walking through walls whenever they want so you can’t forget they’re ghosts, but you sure can see them around a lot. And if Julie is around and can make them solid, they can eat and so it become a not rare occurrence to have the boys come eat dinner 2ish times a week or at least try to (Julie’s “powers” only work about a fourth of the time, to be honest, but they can be seen so they usually hang around.)
And right around when that becomes common place, suddenly Reggie stops hanging out with Ray.
I mean, it’s not something that Julie notices right away but suddenly Reggie is around the studio a lot more and sometimes she assumes he is in the house only to find out he has been hanging by the beach or with Alex and Willie and there’s no real reason for worry but it sort of… lurks in the back of Julie’s mind. A weird sense that something isn’t quite right there, that Reggie used to love hanging around her dad and giving her dad full reports of their days and, okay, maybe it was weird but still… it bothered her. Now that it was gone. 
And then, her dad asks her about it.
Not directly, but he comes sort of frowning into her room, asking if the boys are okay, and “yeah, why?” Julie says and..
“Oh, I dunno,” her dad answers, looking over his shoulder and drumming his fingers against his thigh. “It just feels… I don’t know, the house feels empty? Like… sometimes I think there should be someone and-- you know what, nevermind. It’s probably in my head.”
“No, no,” Julie says because she’s lied to her dad enough. “You’re right. I mean, Reggie used to hang out in the house all the time.”
“Reggie,” her dad says. “The bassist. He did?”
“Yeah, he was probably… what you were sensing.” and Julie has an awful moment of wondering if her dad thought that presence around him was her mom and if Reggie being more busy with other things was like losing someone all over again and--
“That’s what that was!” her dad sounds happy. And relieved. “Sorry. Who. Who that was. I thought I was going crazy.”
“No,” Julie shakes her head. “He’s real. And he was around a lot.”
“Hm,” Ray says and turns to leave. Then turns. “You know…  he’s still welcome, you know? Unless you guys are practicing more…”
“I’ll tell him,” Julie laughs. And then shoos her dad out because she has got to work on this chemistry homework and sometimes it sucks -- having three ghost bandmates who should be in high school but who never have to do anything and don’t even try to help her and--
*^*^*^
“Hey,” Julie says, plopping down next to Reggie on the couch. It’s a few days later but this is the first time they’ve been alone-- Luke and Alex, realizing they were solid enough to go eat and running for the kitchen, Reggie opting to stay behind.
“Hi, Jules!” Reggie says and he doesn’t seem any different. With her and the band, he talks just as much as always, big bright smile, whining about the need for a country song, laughing at all their mishaps.
“I have a question.”
“What’s up?” He twists to face her, giving her all his attention. He does that, she realizes. Focuses on her. All the boys do, to some extent, but with different energies. Reggie’s is the biggest, she thinks. Honest and open.
“So… I’ve sorta noticed that you haven’t been hanging out with my dad as much anymore?” Julie tries to keep her tone casual. She’s not accusing him. She’s just… curious.
“Oh,” Reggie says and his head tilts as if confused by her confusion. “Well, yeah.”
There’s a beat. Julie thinks Reggie is going to keep talking. Reggie does not. Reggie turns back to where he was tuning his bass. “Uh, why?” she finally asks.
Reggie frowns at her. “Well, he can see and hear us now,” he says, as if this is very obvious. 
“So?”
“So like… I don’t want to bother him,” Reggie says. “He does a lot of work during the day. It was one thing when he couldn’t hear or see me but now you know… I’m annoying.”
It’s Julie’s turn to frown, even though Reggie is already looking down again. There’s something about the way he says it, I’m annoying that bothers her. He says it as if it is an obvious fact. As if everybody knows it. As if it’s true. 
“You’re not annoying,” she says. “I don’t think you’re annoying.”
He blinks at her. “Well, no, you don’t,” he allows. “And Luke and Alex don’t. Most of the time.”
“And Flynn and Carlos,” she adds.
“Most of the time. But still, see, all kids. Teens,” Reggie says. “But old people… parents are different. You have to--”
He cuts himself off and for a moment, his hand grips the neck of his bass tightly and there is a tension in his shoulders and suddenly Julie thinks she maybe is in a little too deep here. She doesn’t want to upset him. 
“You’re dad is really nice but he still… It’s different,” he says and he shoots another smile at her, but it’s tight and fake and he jumps up the moment Alex and Luke burst back into the studio.
“So close,” Alex mutters as they come back in. “I had the sandwich IN MY HANDS.”
“Dumb choice,” Luke says, mouth still clearly full of something. “You gotta just hit the snacks, my friend. Focus on what’s quick and easy.”
The boys all head for their instruments and the moment is passing, Julie knows, and she also knows she now has clues that maybe she should put together but she doesn’t have time and why couldn’t her powers last just a little longer this one time? But-
“You should still go hang out with him again,” she tells Reggie as Luke starts tuning up and Alex gets settled behind his drums. “He misses you.”
There’s no time for Reggie to ask any questions but his frown of confusion as she turns away says it all. 
*^*^*^
It grows, this curiosity and she realizes she doesn’t know much about Reggie’s parents. Luke’s, she obviously knows very well and she knows the story very well and she has heard enough about Alex’s to know that they are not worth seeking out but Reggie’s…
She’s never even heard him mention them. Not even in all their conversations about Luke’s. And this is a sensitive topic for all the boys and she doesn’t know how much to push or even whether to push so--
“What were Reggie’s parents like?” she blurts one day. Luke startles and looks up at her and that’s fair as they had been in the middle of writing a song and there was no reason for her to ask. 
“What?” Luke says and she gets to watch as he tries to switch his brain over from music-mode to conversation-mode.
“Reggie’s parents,” she repeats. “What were they like?”
And she knows she’s hit on something when Luke’s head goes down and his shoulders come up and “I dunno,” he says. “It’s… we didn’t hang out there that much.”
“But you must know something?” Julie presses. “Like… did they ever come to see you guys play?”
“No,” Luke says and he’s leaning further away, eyes cutting to the door. “Look, I--”
“Were they against him playing music?”
“Uh- I don’t… Why are you asking?”
The question forces Julie to pause. And she chews her bottom lips as she tries to figure out the answer. Why is she asking? What does she think? What does she actually need to know?
“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just… he’s never even mentioned them.”
“Well, then… we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” Luke says and that’s fair, she knows it is, but she can’t help if she doesn’t have some information. And going to Luke was at least better than just googling. 
“So there is something to talk about,” she says softly. 
“No, I don’t… look,” Luke says and takes a breath. “Reggie never…. He never said anything about them, really. Not even when we were alive. He just… I don’t know. I told you, we never hung out at his house.”
“So you think they were…?” Julie lets the sentence dangle. Luke glares at her a little. Then takes another breath. Fiddles with something on his pants. Doesn’t speak. “You know I’m just trying to help, right?” Julie asks. “I just--”
“Reggie was really quiet,” Luke interrupts. “When we met him, I mean. He was… he was really shy.”
“Reggie?” Julie asks and she can’t help the disbelieving tone. That doesn’t make any sense.
“Yeah,” Luke says. “He was a great bass player, obviously, and nice enough but… really quiet. He… didn’t even laugh really. He just hung back a lot and… it’s weird to think about. Now that I know him.”
“You think he was that way because of his parents?”
“I mean… I dunno. Maybe?” Luke shrugs. “The few times he met my parents, he was… really weird.”
“Weird?”
“Just… weird.”
Julie opens her mouth to ask more questions, to say that that answer wasn’t specific enough, but Luke finally meets her eyes and suddenly she knows that this conversation is going to end.
“Look, if you want to know more, you can probably ask him,” Luke says. “Or like… don’t. It’s not like it matters anymore now, right?”
And there’s a trace of bitterness in that and a trace of please stop and more than a trace of I am uncomfortable with this conversation and so Julie lets it go. 
“Yeah,” she says, worried she pushed too hard. “Yeah, you’re right.”
*^*^*^
The clues are all there and Julie isn’t sure what they point to, so she tries to listen to Luke’s advice and remember that it doesn’t really matter. Reggie doesn’t have to see his parents again and it doesn’t matter and he continues to seem absolutely fine with the band. Fine and happy and--
“Helloooo?” she hears him call from the front door, just as she’s hitting the top of the stairs. She turns, a bit confused because the boys never bother announcing themselves but she opens her mouth to tell him she has to finish homework before rehearsal today and then closes it when she says that he is not looking at her at all, but towards the kitchen.
She walks down a few steps. Bends over so she can peer down and see what he’s looking at. 
Her dad is sitting at the counter.
“Hello!” Reggie is louder this time, and then waves his arms a little bit for good measure and her dad doesn’t see him, she realizes, doesn’t even flinch at all the noise and the arm flailing and she is about to tell Ray that Reggie is there when suddenly, Reggie’s face bursts into a grin and, seemingly satisfied that he is undetectable, the teenager plops himself down in the stool next to Ray.
Julie watches as her dad continues muttering to himself for a minute and then he pauses, and shifts, and glances, and she doesn’t know if he caught a glimpse of Reggie or if he can just sense it but his mouth quirks into a slight smile and he talks more now, at maybe a higher volume, but still to himself and Reggie doesn’t seem to notice the change, so she leaves them to it.
Reggie is still there when she finally finishes her homework two hours later. 
*^*^*^
It doesn’t really get that much better. Reggie still avoids the house when he is visible and, when she catches him with her dad, she somehow knows that he had made sure he was undetectable before risking it and he doesn’t talk as much now, not when he’s learning from conversations with Flynn and Carlos that sometimes it’s part way through a conversation that they are suddenly audible, but she hopes it’s a little bit nice, at least, that Reggie is there at least part of the time.
*^*^*^
They play a particularly good show and the boys stay visible for 5 straight days. Reggie avoids the house the whole time.
*^*^*^
It’s a Friday night when Julie finally gets her biggest clue. It’s a rare quiet Friday. They don’t have a gig all weekend so there’s no rehearsals and Carlos is home and the boys aren’t visible or audible to anyone but Julie so most of her time is spent laughing at what they say and then having to explain to her dad and brother and she thinks they are going to try to play a game, maybe like Clue? Something all the boys can play, though Luke is pushing for twister even though the boys can literally go through people so that doesn’t seem fair at all and--
Something (a ball) whizzes past her head as she and her dad are bent over trying to remember the Clue rules and then she jumps as there’s the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. 
There’s a moment of stillness and then it makes sense. There’s a vase broken on the ground and a baseball rolling under the kitchen table and she turns to see Carlos, looking shocked, mouth already open to apologize. 
“Carlos!” her dad says, standing and moving, doubtlessly to go get the broom. But there is glass everywhere and his voice comes out angry because this is not the first kitchen object Carlos has broken by a longshot. “How many times have I told you not to play--”
Things move very fast then. 
Her dad is moving towards Carlos because that’s where the broom is and Carlos is standing still and looking down because he already knows he’s going to get in trouble and then just as suddenly, Carlos is sort of stumbling back because he’s been pulled back and Reggie is standing where Carlos just was.
Squarely between her dad and her brother. 
“It was me,” Reggie says. And he sounds sort of breathless but also certain and he’s not moving from where he stands. 
Carlos is still sort of gaping that he was just pulled back by a ghost and Julie can see the other two boys processing that fact, the fact that Reggie just managed to touch another person and Ray jerks to a stop because a full teenage boy has just popped into existence in front of him. So no one says anything.
“I threw the ball,” Reggie repeats. More firmly this time. A lie, Julie knows, because Reggie had been on the couch with Alex. Nowhere near where the ball had come from. “It was my fault.”
His voice is still firm and his eyes stay on Ray’s for a second before looking down and his hands tighten into firsts before going slack and he swallows and--
He’s scared, Julie realizes. Scared, but still.
“It was my fault. So--”
“Reggie!” Her dad exclaims and he’s beaming, she can already see it, and then without a thought to whether Reggie is still solid or not, her dad is throwing her arms around Reggie as if he is a long lost friend
(Which in a way, maybe he is)
Reggie stays solid and his arms are pinned to his side and Julie sees him stiffen, sees his face frown in confusion.
“You’re here!” Ray says, still grinning. He leans back and slaps Reggie on the arm. “And solid, I see. Thank goodness. Come, come help me on this puzzle. You’ve been slacking and I swear this dark spot near the left corner is driving me crazy and-- Oh, Carlos, go get the broom and clean this up. No throwing balls in the house! Honestly, you’d think after the last time-- Reggie, wait, whatever happened with that telenovella you guys were watching, you haven’t updated me in forever.”
And then her dad is dragging Reggie away, who still looks shell-shocked, still looks like he was expecting something different, and Julie hangs back, partly to help Carlos clean up, partly to enjoy hearing Reggie slowly start to stammer out answers to her dad’s many, many questions.
*^*^*^
“Oh shoot,” her dad says an hour later, when family puzzle night is brought to an end because the three boys have abruptly vanished from existence. He looks at where Reggie had been sitting (roughly). “Well, we’ll finish next time.”
*^*^*^
What happens next, Julie calls in her head, the Period of Cautious Testing. 
She sees it play out.
Reggie comes into the house, waves hi to her, but doesn’t say anything and then he goes and sort of… lurks near her dad, watching carefully and if her dad seems to be in a good mood (which he is often, to be honest), Reggie will either say hello or obviously pull out a stool to make it clear he is there and--
“Are you free?” Reggie asks. Or “Do you mind?” or “Hey, can I--?”
He says it when Ray can hear him and writes it if there is pen and paper nearby and even when there’s not, he stays tense and ready to fly if he’s not wanted, but--
“Of course!” her dad says. “Sit down.” “Come look.” “Oh, Reggie, check this out--”
And Reggie stares and listens and there’s this smile he has, not his usual huge grin, but a smaller softer sort of wonderful-filled smile and he pays attention to her dad as if he might be quizzed on the information later, still starts out not talking as much but--
“Okay, well tell me about,” her dad says. “Oh, do you think--?”  And “Wait, I want to hear what it was like to--”
*^*^*^
“Your dad is really nice,” Reggie tells her one day. He says it right as they are starting rehearsal and doesn’t really look at her when he says it, looks more somewhere over her left shoulder and he is basically running away towards his mic stand but still…
It makes her smile.
*^*^*^
“Come play with me,” Carlos asks her, throwing his ball in the air.
“Where’s dad?” Julie responds. This is usually her dad’s territory. Whatever talents she had in singing and music and sort of dancing do not translate into sports.
“With Reggie,” Carlos says, throwing the ball up, tilting his head up to watch as it comes down and catches it. “They are talking about… I don’t know. Something. He said he’d be out but you know how they get.”
Julie does. And it doesn’t bother her but..
“Are you mad?” She asks, just to be certain. Carlos had been the only son. Still is. But also… “That they are hanging out so much?” Her brother is still young. Her brother maybe doesn’t--
“No,” Carlos says. “Not like I want to learn about cameras at all.”
Julie laughs.That’s true. And her dad sure can ramble. 
“Also,” Carlos starts…. And then he is glancing at her and he is young and stupid and her ilttle brother, but when he looks up at her, he looks older and serious.
“Also, I think It’s nice. Reggie hanging out with Dad. I think he…”
He fiddles with his ball, but doesn’t throw it. “I think he probably needs that, you know?”
Julie did know, she just didn’t know that Carlos knew. And understood. And was willing to share Dad like that because he knew. She feels her face start heating up with pride. 
“How did you--” she starts. Then stops. She knows how she figured it out and she had mostly relied on being able to see when Reggie was around and how he tried to stay away for so long and her conversation with Luke.
“Oh. Uh. Well, he started a stash of food in my room,” Carlos says. Julie blinks at him. “I went up there one day and he was shoving granola bars in a box in the back of my closet. That was already filled with other stuff.
“He was acting really weird. I mean, nervous and I dunno. I asked him why and he said it was always a good backup in case you couldn’t go downstairs and then I asked why I wouldn’t be able to go downstairs and I think he was embarrassed but still insisted it was safer and--”
Carlos shrugs. Flushes because he realizes he had been talking a hair too fast.
“I don’t know. It made him feel better so I kept it. And it honestly is sometimes easier than going all the way downstairs.”
“Carlos!”
“He has one in your room too!’ Carlos says, laughing. “Basket tucked under your bed, I think. I’m telling you, once you get used to access to rice krispy treats in the middle of the night…”
“Oh my god,” Julie says and they are laughing about this, because what else is there to do but…
“So it’s really okay,” Carlos says. “Plus I figure now you and me can play catch?” He turns on those big brown eyes for that last part and he is so good that Julie can barely stand it.
“Oh alright,” she makes sure to roll her eyes so he knows that she is not falling for him for a second. “Let me put my bag down.”
*^*^*^
The boys are not supposed to be on her computer (there has actually been talk of getting them their own computer to uphold this rule, but none of them really seem to have much interest in technology (besides TV) given that they can always just poof to whoever they need to talk to and force Julie to do the research for them) so it’s a surprise when Julie walks into her room and finds Reggie, glaring at the screen.
“Reggie!” she says, fully intending to yell at him. She has private things on there! 
And then he looks up at her. He looks dark and serious and--
“Will you help me?” he asks. “I don’t know how-- this thing is so complicated.” And Reggie isn’t the one who will get frustrated-- that’s Alex when his anxiety gets to be too much or Luke when a song isn’t going well or even herself when having three rambunctious boys who can pop in on her literally any time gets to be a little much-- but he’s frustrated now. 
“Okay,” she says, her earlier rant about privacy flying out of her head. “Okay, yes, let me help. What do you need to do?”
With the boys, it could be anything. Alex wants to watch videos of skateboarding so he can pretend he knows something about what Willie talks about, or there was the week he discovered Sense8 and then Luke really just wants to google guitars or also there was that week Julie tried to get him on music producing software and then he just wanted to read articles about how digital music was destroying the industry (like some old grandpa).
“I’m--” Reggie stops and stands. Takes a breath and blows it out. Julie waits. He looks somewhere toward the ceiling. “I’m trying to find my parents.”
Julie stills. 
That is not what she was expecting.
“Oh,” she says and it’s a struggle but she keeps her voice carefully neutral. She also takes the moment to look down and see that Reggie has type “goo-gull” into the windows search bar. 
He doesn’t add anything and so she sets herself to opening the real google and seeing what she can do. Contrary to popular belief, it can be a little hard to find people if they aren’t famous and have fairly common names.
“What are their names?” she asks and instead of answering, Reggie just passes her a piece of paper. It has their names on it. And what she assumes to be his old address. She senses the mood and doesn’t say anything else. At least he comes and sits next to her to see the search results pop up. 
There are a lot of them.
“Don’t worry,” she says when she sees his eyes widen. “Even if I can’t do it today, I can put Flynn or-or my dad on it and I’m sure one of them can--”
“No,” Reggie says. “I don’t want-- not them.”
Julie nods and keeps scrolling. She doesn’t know what Reggie’s parents did for a living so she doesn’t know if some of these websites apply but she scrolls slowly and hopes he’ll tell her if he sees something. 
After two pages, “Let’s switch to images,” she suggests. “Maybe you’ll see them.”
Reggie hesitates but then nods. 
After some more silent scrolling, the silence gets to be too much -- “Why do you--?”
“There.”
Julie stops scrolling and, yes, there-- there’s something slightly familiar about that woman’s nose and the darkness of that man’s hair. She clicks to enlarge it, but it’s still a blurry picture, pulled onto google search from Facebook, if she had to guess and--
And she knows that you can’t really judge someone off of a photograph, especially not one that’s older and blurry but she… 
They don’t look nice, she decides. Even though both of them are smiling. The smiles look tense and forced and they are standing a hair too far away from each other to be called close.
“That’s them,” Reggie tells her needlessly.
“Oh,” Julie says again. He doesn’t sound excited. He sounds… she doesn’t know what he sounds.
She waits, risks glancing at him to find he is still just staring. And the silence drags and then right- right as she knows she’s got to say something, anything--
“I thought it was normal,” Reggie finally says softly. “They. I thought they were normal. I mean… I thought everyone’s parents were that way.”
He’s still not looking at her. Still just staring at the screen.
“I mean… Luke fought all the time with his parents and Alex’s were just… always too religious and a bit off even before they knew and so I just assumed that everyone… you know.”
Julie did not know. Not really. Not at all. 
“I knew they hated me,” he says and he finally glances over at her. He’s not crying, but his voice is tight and the nod he gives her is jerky. He looks away quickly. “For forcing them to get married. And for forcing them to stay together too, I guess, though… it wasn’t just…”
His leg is bouncing now. Jumping up and down even as his fist clenches and presses on top of it. 
“It’s not even just that though,” and his voice rises now, almost desperate. “They hated me. They said I was loud and annoying and stupid and I… I thought that was normal. I thought they were right.”
He shoots up now, solid enough that her little table gets pushed back when his shin hits against it, but he doesn’t seem to notice and he swipes at his eyes, but he’s not crying. Just red and Julie’s almost crying, she realizes, but she’s also tense and her stomach hurts and she doesn’t know what to do.
“They were my parents and they hated me and I thought-- I thought that was normal. That everyone would always hate--” He cuts off and Julie opens her mouth again but she doesn’t know what to say. The boys… the boys are young and happy and they are all an open book, even when they try not to be, but now… Now Reggie clenches his jaw and stops himself. The boys never stop themselves. 
“It wasn’t right though,” Reggie says and he’s angry now. More angry than Julie’s seen anyone. “It wasn’t fair. What they did. Making me feel… yelling at me all the time and-and sending me to bed without dinner so often that I- I fucking thought everyone snuck snacks into their room and shoving me around and even when they were happy, I just knew it could turn so quickly, that even one mistake could just ruin everything and I- I-”
He cuts off, breathing hard.
“Reggie--” Julie starts. She stands but he takes a step away from her so she stills.
“It wasn’t fair,” he says and he’s quieter now but it doesn’t feel calmer. He meets her eyes and his are wet. “I just don’t get how they could-- why they--”
“It wasn’t fair,” Julie agrees and this time when she comes closer, he doesn’t move. So she gets to put a hand on his shoulder and breaths a small sigh of relief that he is solid right now.
“I had to die, Jules,” he says, looking at her again finally. And this is… being dead is something the boys rarely acknowledge in a real way. It’s usually a joke or an offhand comment or their comeback for why they shouldn’t have to help her with calculus. It’s not this. Soft and serious and then followed by a dark chuckle. “I literally had to fucking die to figure out that they were bad parents. And I bet-- I bet they were glad.”
Julie opens her mouth to say that of course they weren’t, that any parent would be heartbroken, that he can’t know that but--
But she doesn’t know them. She doesn’t know if that is true.
“Well,” she starts but Reggie backs away and cuts her off.
“I have to go,” he announces. And then he glances at her and realizes she’s crying and maybe realizes what just happened because he runs his hand through his hair and guilt enters his eyes but “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry about-- You weren’t supposed to-- I gotta go.”
“Wait!” Julie tries, but he’s already gone. 
*^*^*^
Her first instinct is to run and get Luke and Alex, to tell them to poof to all the most likely spots for Reggie to be, to tell them everything that had happened and then maybe run and tell her dad too for good measure and to probably cry a little more but she--
She doesn’t.
She doesn’t know what stops her or why instead of yelling and rushing down the stairs, she takes a breath and falls back onto her couch, but… that’s what she does. 
She falls back and stares at the picture she’d found a little longer and--
I hate you, she thinks. You didn’t deserve him. 
And then she closes the tab without saving it. 
And she doesn’t tell anybody.
*^*^*^
Reggie is a little late to rehearsal that day, but not enough to attract much notice.
He comes in cautious though. Julie sees it, since she knows to look for it.
He poofs up outside the garage and then slowly walks in and he’s waiting, she sees, for someone to say something or act weird or for them to all stop talking at once in an obvious display of “we were just talking about your breakdown earlier.” He’s tense and cautious and--
“Dude, awesome,” Luke says in greeting, waving a hand at him. “You’re here. We can get started. I think I have a killer idea for a harmony echo thing in the chorus of--”
Reggie looks suspicious for a beat longer, eyes flicking between Julie and Luke and then Alex, but Alex is too busy trying out a new spin move with his drumsticks to really be paying much attention and Luke is still droning on about his latest idea and Julie just gives him a smile. And a nod. And hopes that her eyes convey she didn’t actually say anything. 
She knows it was the right call when the tension leaves Reggie’s shoulders.
Reggie gives her a smile and a nod and then they all do what they do best.
They play.
*^*^*^
That night, Julie spots her dad alone (actually alone) on the couch, fiddling with something on his laptop, and when they were playing music together, she didn’t think about it but now it all comes rushing back.
The hurt and the anger in his voice and the fact that she didn’t know what to say or do and it was the right call, not to tell anyone Reggie’s private business, she thinks, but she suddenly feels very sad again and the only thing for it is to plop down next to her dad and curl into his side. 
He hums in greeting and keeps his eyes on his screen and she just enjoys it. His warmth and smell and marvels in the fact that he is always there. That she can always do this. That she has a dad who will always let her sit with him and who has to be coached into being angry and just loves her so damn much. 
“Honey?” he says and he’s closing the laptop to twist and look at her. There is concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and trying to ignore the heat behind her eyes that tells her she might cry. “Nothing’s wrong. I just-- It’s been a long day.”
“Too much practice?” he says.
“No, not that. Just… you know. One of those days.”
“Oh okay,” he says and then he’s lifting his arm so he can wrap it around her and squeeze her more firmly into his side. “Okay.”
They sit for a long moment, just breathing and Reggie should do this, she thinks, just sit and be calm and be held and she hopes one day, he does. That he is solid enough and comfortable enough and maybe he can’t tuck all that way into her dad’s side like she can but he should still… he should still try. One day.
She knows her dad would let him.
“Thank you,” she says. “For being such a good dad.”
Her dad’s soft laugh answers her. “Well, you know that’s my job.” 
“Yeah, but… also for everything else too. With the band and the music program and for-for being so good to Re-- the boys. All the boys.”
She doesn’t know if he hears the name she almost said, but he tilts his head as if he knows. He probably does somehow. 
“They’re great kids,” is what he says instead.
“Still,” she insists. “I know it’s a lot. But they- he- just thank you.”
He looks at her for a long moment and finally nods. 
“Anytime.”
*^*^*^
“Thanks,” Reggie says, the next day, drifting over to where she is resting on the couch while Alex and Luke get into a semi-argument, semi-productive debate on a certain rhythm. “For not saying anything to the guys.”
“No problem,” she says. “But if you want to talk more or--”
“No, no,” he says, waving a hand as if that is going to make her forget the entire thing. “It’s not a big deal. It’s--”
“Reggie.” She says it firmly. She says it and then waits until he actually looks at her. “It is a big deal. Your parents were-- They were wrong and mean and fucking horrible and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s your right and I won’t say anything. But it is a big deal. Your feelings are a big deal. You are a big deal. So talk to me or to my dad or to no one but don’t tell me it’s not a big deal.”
Reggie blinks at her and Julie flushes. But doesn’t back down. Keeps glaring at him. 
“Uh. Okay,” Reggie says. “I- I will. Or I won’t. Tell you that.”
“Good,” Julie says, nodding once. And then Alex and Luke turn back to them and it seems they have compromised (Or maybe Alex won and Luke is just saying they compromised) and they’re back to it. 
*^*^*^
As far as Julie knows, he doesn’t talk about it. At least, not with her.
But, gradually, he stops hesitating before announcing himself to her dad and he starts buzzing with the same kind of energy that he does in the garage in the house and, then later, she goes downstairs for a late night snack and Carlos is there too, half-heartedly complaining that his stash has run out and he had grown accustomed to a certain style of living and--
“Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray Ray RayRay,” Reggie says, running into the house, tripping over his own feet somehow and skidding into the counter, knocking over the fruit bowl in the process. Her dad idly straightens it with one hand, the other reaching out to collect the apples and oranges that had rolled everywhere but Reggie grabs it and pulls. “You gotta see this, there’s a bird and the light-- bring your camera!”
“A bird?” her dad says, and he sounds a bit doubtful but he is already grabbing his camera. 
“Huge bird,” Reggie says, waving his hands as if to indicate. “Biggest bird ever. I think it’s a condor!”
“A condor! A California condor??” her dad’s eyes go huge and then he’s throwing one camera at Reggie and grabbing another out of a drawer and there are apples and oranges everywhere and her dad almost brains himself stepping on one and flying forward but Reggie catches him and suddenly, Julie is in the kitchen by herself, surrounded by fruit, staring at a pancake her dad was supposed to flip.
She rolls her eyes and smiles to herself and grabs the spatula.
She doesn’t think they’re coming back any time soon.
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caught-in-the-filter · 4 years ago
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Emma Was Cold
A Neverland smut fic for @neverlandnewyear​ and @csjanuaryjoy​
Summary: Emma Swan finds that Neverland nights get surprisingly cold. Luckily, Captain Hook has some experience in keeping warm.
4006 Words; Rated: E; AO3
A/N: This is basically Neverland PWP. It was inspired by something I commented in the CS Movie Marathon Discord a while back, and I never expected to actually write the thing myself. This is the first full smut fic I’m publicly posting with one of my urls attached, so I’m both excited and scared to share it. First, I need to give a huge shoutout to all the lovely people on the CSMM, CSNLNY, and CSJJ Discords for all their encouragement and assistance while I struggled to write this fic. Special shoutouts to @teamhook​, @kmomof4​, @hollyethecurious​, and @donteattheappleshook​ for reviewing bits of the doc for me as I went along and being super supportive, and especially to Maddie for also giving it a last minute full review once I finished it and helping me with edits. Also a big thank you to the mods for running these amazing events and for working together to allow us to cross-post between the two.
Alright, here we go....
——
“Are you alright, Swan?” Hook asked as he turned toward Emma to find her shivering where she lay a few feet away from him, his question prompted by the fact that he could actually hear the clacking sound of her teeth chattering.
“I’m f-fine,” Emma answered, curling further into herself as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms beneath the threadbare blanket that provided her with such little warmth. Who’d have thought Neverland would get so cold at night? She wished she’d worn more than a thin tank top, which served her well during the blazing heat of the day but offered no protection from the cool temperatures she faced now.
“Are you sure?” he prodded with a smirk, “If you’d like me to keep you warm, love, you need only ask. I’d be more than willing to—”
“I said I’m fine,” Emma snapped, “and I’m not your love.”
“Suit yourself.” Hook rolled back onto his side. “Like everything else on this island, Neverland nights are not kind. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
——
Emma was cold, so cold that she couldn’t stop shaking despite her best efforts. Tensing only made it worse, but she just couldn’t relax either. She cursed herself under her breath, knowing she shouldn’t give in but desperate for the rest she knew she’d never find in such a state.
“Hook?” she whispered, padding over to where he lay apart from the rest, half hoping he would already be asleep.
“Hm?” He turned toward her once more, the smirk returning to his face and burning a hole right through her.
Emma wondered if the embarrassment that set fire to her cheeks would be enough to warm her, but she’d already gained his attention.
“Did you have a change of heart then, love?” Hook questioned. “Are you ready to warm up to me? Or with me, I should say.”
“Nevermind,” Emma rolled her eyes and stepped away from him in annoyance, hoping he couldn’t see her shivering.
“Swan—”
“No.”
“Swan, please look at me,” he pleaded, more softly than she’d have expected. She turned toward him impatiently, ready to go off on him if necessary, but found a gentle look in his eyes and let him continue.
“I may be a bit brash when it comes to making my interest known, Emma, but I assure you I am nothing if not a gentleman. Neverland is a cruel place and I would not wish to make it any more so. If we are to share warmth in a strictly practical manner, so be it.” He waved her over to him, his hooked arm outstretched in invitation to serve as her pillow. “You need rest, and I won’t let you freeze to death in your sleep before we rescue your boy.”
Emma approached him with caution, hesitating before she sat and turned her back to him as she rested her head on his arm. She wondered how he could sleep in that leather duster of his, but as he held her close, pressing his chest flush against her back but making a point to turn his hips away from her, and draped the thick material of the coat over her as well, she realized just how comfortable it actually was. She wouldn’t admit to the sudden and surprising sense of calm that washed over her as she settled next to him, but in the unexplainable safety, it didn’t take long before she was sound asleep.
——
Though it was still dark when she awoke, Emma felt as refreshed as if she’d had a full night’s sleep, a feeling and a feat she hadn’t achieved in a very long time. She huffed out a breath with a roll of her eyes when she realized she’d been pinned by Hook’s other arm which curled loosely around her middle. He must have turned in his sleep, somehow gently enough to not wake her. Her instincts said to shove him away, but he had been decent enough to respect her boundaries in his offer. And, after all, she was much warmer this way, which was the whole point of moving closer together.
He suddenly shifted in his sleep again, and Emma gasped when she felt his clothed warmth brush against her denim-clad ass. Wait, was he actually hard?! Before she could stop herself, Emma let out an involuntary moan when he rubbed against her again and she immediately froze, wide-eyed and praying he didn’t hear her as all the heat they’d shared travelled south, save for that which reddened her cheeks. After a moment had passed without a reaction from him, she allowed herself to relax again, only to be suddenly pulled closer to him.
“Sounds like you liked that, Swan?” Hook remarked and rolled his hips ever so slightly. She could sense the shit-eating grin returning to his smug face.
Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he did it again before she responded, “Please, you couldn’t handle it,” and returned the motion, surprising him with the unexpected reciprocation.
“I do love a challenge. But tell me something, love,” he said, his hand traveling down towards her waistband, passing over the zipper and slipping between her thighs as his lips hovered over her neck and his hot breath seared her flesh, “can you handle staying quiet?” He lifted her leg and draped it over his own, giving himself the space to cup her through her jeans. “Everyone else is still asleep, and in any case it’s still too dark to journey on.” He placed a kiss just below her ear and continued, his voice a low growl just above a whisper, “Just say the word, I can help you ease your mind for a while.” The corner of his lips twitched upward as he teasingly flexed his fingers against her and added, “And the ache you might be feeling, if that moan were any indication.”
Emma silently cursed herself for letting that sound escape from her lips, and once more for what she knew she was about to give in to so quickly. He was right, she could use a distraction from her racing mind now that she was more awake again, and he was a damn tempting one. Her breath hitched when he caught her earlobe between his teeth and tugged, eliciting another soft moan from deep within her, and her decision was made.
“Yes.”
“Yes what, love?” he asked, nosing down her neck until his mouth latched onto the space between it and her shoulder, nipping and sucking her flesh and laving over it with his tongue.
“Yes, I can stay quiet.” Her hand reached up to find purchase in his hair, encouraging him to continue his claim of her collarbone. “Yes, I want you to ease my… well, everything.” He chuckled at that, the vibration of his laughter against her skin sending a chill down her spine.
“As you wish.” Hook wasted no time popping the button on Emma’s jeans, pulling down the zipper, and slipping his hand beneath the denim. “Oh?” He said, his eyebrow raised in wonder at the soft, thin material covering his goal. He rubbed his fingers over it, feeling her arousal soaking through it as he teased her. “You certainly do.” Hook pushed her panties aside and sank two fingers inside her.
“Ohh fuck,” Emma choked back another moan, the sinful sounds as he plunged them into her dripping core again and again filling the air instead. His rings bit into her skin with every thrust, the cool metal a jarring, yet welcome counter to the hot friction they were creating. She rocked her hips to meet him each time, and his breathing grew ragged as he rutted himself against the curve of her ass in synchrony. As Emma’s movements grew frantic, Hook’s slowed to a stop, and Emma groaned in protest when he removed his fingers from inside her, dragging them through her folds to brush her clit for just a moment.
“Not yet, Swan.” Hook carefully slipped his arm out from beneath her head and gently turned her towards himself so that she lay on her back. Getting to his knees and stripping off his duster, he knelt between her spread legs. “I’m a fan of every part of you, and I intend to show you just how much of a fan I am.” 
He slipped his hooked arm beneath her tank only to find his access to her breasts blocked by another bit of material. Lifting the top to reveal the offending garment, he looped his prosthetic beneath it, the tip of the hook scraping against her skin as he did, and tugged. He noted that the small scrap of fabric differed from the corsets he was used to removing from women he’d bedded in the past but assumed it would be no less easy to snap than the laces he’d encountered on them.
“Hey!” Emma caught his wrist before he could succeed in his efforts. “I need this! Let me just….” She sat up for a moment to take off her tank top and undo the clasps at her back so she could toss her bra aside. “There.”
“Apologies, love,” Hook said, “and thank you.” He guided her back down with his hand just beneath her now exposed breast, thumbing at her tightening nipple as his mouth tended to the other. “Bloody magnificent, these are,” he mumbled against her as he teased them to stiff peaks. Emma tried to relax as the throbbing between her legs became almost unbearable and she longed for more friction to soothe it.
When he was at last satisfied, Hook released her nipple from his mouth with a resounding pop, flicked it a few times with the curve of his hook for good measure, and gave the same treatment to the other, relishing the way she squirmed beneath him as he nibbled and sucked and kneaded.
Emma gasped when the cold air rushed over her wet skin as Hook finished with her breasts and slid his body lower between her legs, trailing sloppy kisses down her abdomen along the way until he reached the top of her jeans.
Glancing up at her, he kept his eyes on hers as he gently tucked his fingers and hook just under the edge of her waistband.
“May I?” he asked, waiting for her approval to proceed.
“Yes,” she answered, “god, yes.” He grinned at that and very slowly tugged her jeans down her legs, distracted by the view of the place where his hand had been, covered only by the thin strip of fabric that had grown damp beneath his touch, pausing for a moment to slip off her boots when he reached them before removing the denim completely.
“You,” Hook said as he took in the sight of her almost completely naked form, “are absolutely stunning, Swan.” He scanned her body a moment longer, watching the blush spread over her cheeks and across her chest as she flushed pink under his desirous scrutiny. He nosed along the creases of her thighs and up the material that hid his goal before taking the top hem between his teeth, pulling it down until it hung from his mouth and letting it fall beside her on the blanket beneath them.
Fuck, that was hot, Emma thought to herself as she watched him lower his head and raise his hungry gaze to hers. The smirk on his face made her wonder for a moment if she had actually said it out loud.
Any concern she had about her comment was swept away as he gently flattened his tongue against her slick flesh, never breaking eye contact as he slowly licked an inquisitive stripe along her folds, dipping it between them just enough to pass over her clit before departing. The shiver that passed through her whole body at the contact was enough to make him do it twice more before diving in as deep as he could and mapping her inner walls with his tongue. He mumbled soft praises as he worked her—“Delicious…. Exquisite…. Divine….”—without ever fully pulling away to say them, too lost in the taste of her, as if he couldn’t get enough and didn’t want to lose even a drop of her essence. Soon he found the spot that made her hips buck and her thighs pull together, pressing against the sides of his head, and he reintroduced his fingers inside her as he licked at the spot relentlessly, knowing she grew ever closer to her release.
His scruff raked against her skin as her legs locked around him, her heels digging into his back, and she knew the raw streaks of raised red would burn later as they continued through Neverland on foot. But with the way he was making her feel in that moment, she figured it would be worth it.
The shaking overtook her suddenly and her back arched as he gave a particularly strong suck on her clit, and she came as he continued to fuck her with his hand and mouth. He reached up to silence her by pressing the curve of his hook to her lips as an overwhelmed cry caught in her throat. Taking the prosthetic into her mouth, she gently bit down on it and laved over it with her tongue to distract herself from the way he tended to her dripping core in kind. He lapped at her entrance until her waves of pleasure receded and she relaxed against the blanket, their chests heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths. He crawled over her body, hovering above her looking absolutely wrecked before he’d even been touched, his chin glistening with her release and his eyes blown wide with insatiable desire.
Their mouths crashed together and he laced his fingers through her golden locks while her hands anchored in the hair at the nape of his neck. She tasted herself on him as she traced his lips with her tongue and opened hers in invitation for his further exploration.
“You, my wanton lass, are far from quiet.” Hook attacked Emma’s lips with his own, her false rebuttal lost before it could be voiced as his tongue dipped between them and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth upon its retreat.
Emma hadn’t seen him reach for the panties he’d discarded next to her earlier until he pulled away and sat back on his haunches as he replaced his tongue with the wet scrap of material.
“Any other time, I’d love nothing more than to hear how I make you feel, but given the circumstances…,” he trailed off with a glance in the direction of their slumbering company not too far away, before returning his gaze to Emma with a smirk. “Luckily, there are ways to assist you.” He leaned over her once more to whisper in her ear, “Perhaps another time we can meet on my ship, sail far from the shore, just the two of us, and I’ll make you produce all manner of sounds for only me to hear. Hm?”
If he were expecting an answer, Emma couldn’t give him one. She told herself this was a one-time thing, just a way to blow off some steam and clear her head before the next long stretch of their journey through this land of mysterious horrors she wished she’d never have had to encounter like this. She wished Neverland could have stayed a story, though she wouldn’t admit out loud that she did prefer this real version of the fearsome Captain Hook.
Well, that and she now had a mouthful of cotton.
Emma watched as he unlaced his trousers, and she found herself unable to look away when he took himself in hand and passed the tip of his cock along her folds, aligning himself with her entrance before he stopped.
“Swan?” Hook said, bringing her out of her distracted stupor and calling her attention to his searching eyes, all of his bravado gone and replaced with a serious, patient tone. “Emma, are you sure?”
She hadn’t expected him to ask again, and that consideration for her wishes she hadn’t often encountered, paired with his rare use of her first name, only increased her desire to say yes. Unable to actually speak it, she held his gaze, hoping hers looked just as soft, and gently brushed her fingers down his cheek before she trailed them down his arms and gripped his hips with an encouraging nod.
Emma bit down hard on her makeshift gag and her head lolled back as he slowly sheathed himself inside her, the stretch burning in the best way with every inch as her body responded to his entrance with slick heat until he was fully seated within her. The feel of her around him took his breath away, and Hook braced himself on his elbows at either side of her as his head fell forward next to hers and he panted over her shoulder.
“Gods, you’re fucking perfect,” Hook whispered in her ear through gritted teeth. He finally began to move, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he pulled back and slid home again and again. She pivoted her hips to meet him with each thrust, feeling a euphoric fullness every time she took him in deep that left her softly whimpering in protest upon his retreats.
It was too much and not enough and just right all at once. Emma’s hands slipped beneath Hook’s shirt and she raked her nails up and down his back before digging them into his flesh as she scrabbled for purchase to steady herself beneath him, and to draw him ever closer to her.
Her mouth grew dry as the material between her teeth absorbed what little moisture wasn’t being expelled from her body in arousal and sweat. She wanted to kiss him, but even if she could, his mouth was otherwise engaged, sucking a mark into the side of her neck before tonguing at the hollow of her throat on its way to brand her collarbone. She couldn’t be bothered to care if anyone would see the evidence of his claim, not while he was giving her nothing but pleasure as his hips snapped with purpose.
“Come for me, Emma.” Hook’s fingers returned to her clit to circle and tease it as they both neared their releases. “Let me feel you come on my cock.” He groaned louder than he meant to when her hands cupped his ass through his trousers. “I won’t last much longer, love.”
He almost lost it when she gripped him tighter and nodded with a downward glance before meeting and holding his gaze.
“Fuck, Emma,” he breathed, a lightheadedness overtaking him as everything inside him tensed and he slammed into her with abandon. Looping his hook under the edge of her panties that peeked out from between her lips, he tugged the material to remove it without wasting time to toss it aside, letting it drape over his prosthetic as he filled her mouth with his tongue instead in a hot slide.
“Killian,” she moaned in a whisper against his eager lips, finally able to speak to some extent as he ravished both her mouth and her aching core.
“What?” He said in breathless surprise, unsure of whether he’d heard her correctly or imagined it with his own pulse pounding in his head, his hungry and frantic eyes flitting from side to side as they searched hers. A soft smile spread across his face. That was the first word she’d spoken, not even his more colorful moniker she’d been accustomed to using, but—
“Killian,” she called him by his name again, feeling that same dizzy high he felt as she rocked forward into him. “Yes. Yes.”
Something inside him snapped, and he muffled his pleasured cries against her lips as he poured himself inside her, relentlessly thumbing at her clit to bring her to release. A rush of heat spread through her body as his cock pulsed inside her, and her walls fluttered around him as she rose and fell with him.
He pulled back for a moment and caught the thick whitish fluid that dripped from her core with the tip of his cock before pushing it deeper inside her with a desperate grunt until they both finally slowed their movements to a stop.
“That was—” Hook, the man full of innuendos, fell speechless as he carefully held himself above her, propped up on his elbows, and let his forehead drop to hers as he panted with hot breath over her lips.
A one-time thing, Emma wanted so badly to say, but she had trouble even believing herself then. The way he made her feel, the way she knew he felt, the way they felt together. None of it felt like a one-time thing. She knew what those were, but this right here with him, this could be so much more. And it both thrilled and terrified her.
“I know,” she said instead, trying desperately to process everything that had just happened, and everything she might have wished would happen in the future, if they’d have a future at all. Would they?
She subtly shook her head in an attempt to clear it and pulled him to her for another kiss before she lifted her panties off his hook and pressed her other hand to his chest where it was exposed by the low neckline of his shirt and vest, following his body with hers as she guided him back so she could sit upright. Flattening the material over her palm, she passed it between her folds and stared into the depths of his ocean blue eyes as she rubbed the damp cotton over his wet cock, making his jaw drop as his breath hitched in his throat.
“We can’t leave a mess, now can we?” Emma smirked. Pumping him with her covered hand, she took his cock into her mouth, and he hissed when she passed her tongue over the tip and groaned around him at the taste as it leaked a bit more of his release.
“Gods, Emma,” Hook stuttered as he leaned back on his hand for support before he stilled her by catching her wrist with his hook, and she released him with a soft pop and a mischievous smirk as she looked up at him. “Keep doing that, love, and there’s going to be a much more obvious tell.”
“Fine,” she conceded with a sigh, getting to her feet and slipping on her wrecked panties with a taunting wiggle of her hips as she pulled them up under the weight of his entranced gaze until he realized he’d been staring and cast his eyes toward the ground. She’d probably feel it later, the sweltering heat of the Neverland sun bound to leave her feeling stickier than its induced sweat already would, but knowing he’d know that his effects on her would be keeping her wet long after they’d finished their more enjoyable activities… well, her own potential discomfort would be a cross she’d be willing to bear without regret.
She continued to get dressed, and he gave her the decency of turning his back to her as she did and as he righted himself as well, an admittedly unnecessary gesture after the rather indecent act they’d just committed together, but oddly endearing nonetheless.
“Here, love,” Hook picked up his duster and held it open in offering for her to wear, but she waved him off with a smile.
“I’m okay now, thanks. It suits you better anyway. And besides,” Emma winked at him, “I think I prefer sharing it.”
Hook swirled it around himself with a dramatic flair to put it on, tucked his hand and hook in the pockets, and reached out to enwrap Emma in the heavy leather with him, eliciting a giggle as he held her close.
She certainly wasn’t cold anymore.
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ggukkiedae · 3 years ago
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[vlive 210522] Seri’s Seritonin 🥝🐱
9pm kst
italics = english; seri answering questions!
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the vlive starts with seri logging on and waving
she’s playing new rules in the background and staying quiet for the first two minutes
“moa! how are you all?”
she smiles and reads through the comments
she reads a few out loud and sees a few comments asking her to say i love you in different languages, to which she complies to
she turns off her music first and fixes herself in her chair
“bet you guys are wondering why i’m live today, huh? we’ll get to that in a bit. for now, let’s answer questions”
she looks through the comments carefully until she reads one out loud
Seriiiiiii! 5 Beomgyus or 5-year-old Beomgyu?
she laughs at this
“maybe a five year old bammie. he always makes a big deal of being older than me by a few months, so it would be good pay back”
she then pulls out her phone and scrolls through it before turning it towards the screen. it was a picture of beomgyu as a kid
“see this? he sent this to our groupchat the other day. tiny gyu is cute”
how are youuuuuu?
she claps her hands together and smiles at the live
“i’m doing great, thank you! i’ve been practicing harder, and i feel pretty good”
she scrolls through the comments again and takes a sip of her drink. she lightly mixes her drink around and places it back down
“you guys should try peach tea. it’s a godsend. oh, what’s this?”
shall we go on a date?
“you didn’t turn up at our last date”
she pouted a little and laughed
“i waited at the rooftop for a while, but you didn’t show up! but i guess we can go again because you’re moa”
she shifts a little and shakes her head amusedly at her own words
“do i sound like gyu?”
Hi Seri! I have a couple questions 😊 What has been your favorite era music wise and style wise? What hair style/color do you want to try? What's your current favorite song? What are you looking forward to most?
her eyes widened a little before she looks up trying to come up with answers to the series of questions
“oh, wow, i guess you could say i really liked our songs from the minisode album, but my favorite title track is run away for sure. actually, i take that back. i like the songs on dream chapter magic the most! in terms of style... dream chapter magic as well! i really like new rules’ styling especially”
a small smile makes its way to her face as she’s about to answer the last question from that comment
“right now, i’m really looking forward to our new album, and i hope you’ll like it as well! so far, the tracks are amazing!”
any plans for a comeback with the royals?
“i don’t know” she laughs and looks off camera “what do you think?”
yoonmi’s giggle can be heard while seri just laughed
“you exposed me! anyway, we’ll see when the three of us get an opportunity again” “you guys heard yoonmi”
seri takes the live and points it to the side, revealing the magenta-haired girl peacefully sitting in the dance studio near her while working on something on her laptop
“yoonmi is working on school stuff even if she just released a song yesterday” “responsibilities”
Seri baby are you aware that Seri sounds like berry? Therefore you are now berry Seri or Seri Berry 🤔
“oh, that’s cute! seri berry... i love it! i’m a berry now! i can replace strawberries, i don’t like strawberries”
she wrinkled her nose at the thought of the red berries as the sound of a chair moving came up. seri looked off camera and waved to, supposedly, yoonmi
“yoonmi has a meeting right now, so she’s off. anyway, back to our live”
Hiya Seri how are you liking the new building? What do you think has changed the most about you since you became an idol? And out of the members who do you think has changed most since you debuted?
“the new building is actually the best thing ever, i swear! there’s a lot of space, and the facilities are all high quality! honestly, i’m the only txt member who doesn’t get lost, so it’s pretty funny when the others have to ask for my help to walk around”
she then pressed her lips into a tight line while thinking about her next answer
“since becoming an idol... i think i became more confident. the others tell me this a lot. they say every comeback my stage presence gets better, and i look more comfortable? i also became a better dancer for sure. not the best yet, but i’m working on it. also maybe kai? first of all, he’s gotten way taller now. second, he’s been more mature. yes, he’s still our baby, but he handles things a lot more maturely now. sometimes he acts like he’s older than me as well”
hi bestieeeeeee! what do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an idol?
“hey, bestie! musical theatre for sure!”
seri immediately perked up at this. she jumped back in her seat a little with the biggest grin while remembering her experiences
“i loved it back in school! honestly, my parents were pretty supportive about my involvement in theatre and my little brother kinda brags to his friends that his sister goes on stages to perform. it’s kinda cute”
would you consider acting? or maybe starring in a musical?
“oh for sure if i were given the chance!”
you dance amazingly! your artist of the month video with studio choom was absolutely perfect!!!!
“oh my god”
she covered her face and groaned before pulling out her phone and looking for the video on youtube. before pressing play, she looked back to the camera
“thank you, but i’m a little embarrassed about this. i wore red lipstick on stage for the first time after debut, and i showed a side of me that’s pretty different…”
she pressed play and watched the video, cringing at herself. it took a whole 20 seconds before she gave up and hid her phone behind her
“nope. nevermind, i can’t watch that. thank you, i’m glad you enjoyed it”
thoughts on the people you’re being shipped with? 👀
she burst into laughter upon reading this
“ah, yes. shipping. i see you guys on stan twitter with your little edits and headcanons and aus! honestly, it’s amusing. apparently most of you ship me with gyu and seungmin? and a few other people, too?”
she was quiet for a while like thinking about who moas shipped her with. she shook her head with and began talking again
“gyu... well, bammie’s my best friend, and i love him a lot. it’s been us from the very beginning, so i like to think we’ll be as close as ever until the end”
“seungmin is the bane of my existence”
she laughed at this before waving her hand
“kidding! he’s actually really nice, and i love hanging out with him, it just so happens our friendship is based on bickering. we do support each other though. seungmin, if you see this, you did well on love poem”
she then lit up as if just remembering something
“some of you guys ship me with chaeryoung! interesting considering you all see me as ryujin’s sibling, but please, i’m not worthy of the queen herself. i love chae with all my heart honestly she’s such a sweet child”
her phone buzzed and she glanced at it a little bit before turning back to the live
“perfect timing because hyunsuk just messaged me and some special ship mentions are hyunsuk and jeno oppa. i think it’s because i hang out with hyunsuk’s little siblings a lot. but jeno oppa? we just met earlier this year, it’s a little funny how apparently a lot of people ship us when we haven’t really shown our friendship much”
she typed something one her phone before chuckling and shutting it off once again. she looked through the comments until she found the topic she was looking for
What’s up with you and Dino? 👀👀👀
“ah, this. this brings me to the reason i went live. recently, you guys have seen me and dino oppa hanging out, right? well, we’re not dating. i wanted it to be a surprise, but he’s helping me with something for my birthday, and i agreed to do something with him for their youtube as well”
her phone rang, and she laughed before picking it up and putting it on speaker
“hello? you’re on speaker” “seri-yah! how dare you deny our relationship?” “oh? you’re watching?” “look up, stupid. i’m standing by the door”
she looked off camera and laughed
“yah! oppa, what are you doing here?” “miya told me you were gonna talk about the scandal, so i thought why not come early?”
dino appears next to seri in a mask and a hat. he nudged seri over to the side so they could both be centered on screen, making her raise her eyebrow at him
“meet my new dance partner” dino points towards seri whose eyes widen as soon as he said that
“they don’t know yet!” “you said we were working on two things together!” “but they didn’t know one of them is dance!” “might as well tell them so we can clear up this rumor before i get attacked by moas”
she sighed at him
“i’d get attacked by carats. anyway, fine. dino oppa’s helping me with a song, and he’s making me dance with him for a video. you can look forward to this in july”
dino adjusted his hat and leaned forward a little
“no need to panic, we’re not in a romantic relationship. she’s too tall for me”
“... you’re literally taller than me though?” “not by that much. if you wear heels, we’d be the same height, and i don’t think i’m up for that”
she playfully rolled her eyes
“looks like i’ve discussed what needed to be cleared up now. i’m single. single.” “yes, they get the point” “oh, would you just go already?”
she was pretending to push him away while he laughed at her failed attempts. he moved off camera but stays in the room
“no way, we’ve got to work the choreography out today”
“this is gonna be a while,” she muttered before smiling at the live once again “well, time for me to go. i’ve got a lot of work to do to be on par with a member of seventeen’s performance team”
dino’s groaning could be heard from the side
“this again?”
she laughed
“bye moa! hopefully that cleared things up, and hopefully you enjoyed this little tmi session”
-end-
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yer-cute-when-you-scream · 4 years ago
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Already Yours~ Lee Minho
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WARNINGS:Fluff, Angst, Insecure!Reader, Self Doubt, (I am def forgetting things but I am at work and rushing to post this! I’ll edit this later)
A/N: This was requested by the lovely @btrombley13​! I really hope you enjoy this, and I’ll fight anyone who is mean to you bb <3
It seemed like the days got longer, I found myself dissociating more in my classes, laying in bed at night and overthinking everything. 
Does anybody else really care about me? 
Do they just pity me and that's why they still tolerate me? 
Why did my friends cut me off? 
Why won't they explain why we're no longer friends? 
All these questions run through my head, it's overwhelming and I'm exhausted. I tried so hard to study and not get into my thoughts, but here I am in the library, overthinking, again. 
Usually, I would go to Minho for comfort because I always look up to him, he gives the best talks and advice, but I feel like I'm bothering him, what if he leaves me too? I'm brought back to Earth when I hear my phone go off, I pick it up and see it's a text from Minho. 
Minho: Hey angel, are you free to hang out tonight? ^^
I smiled at how he used the nickname he gave me; I didn't understand a dirty joke he told me and he said I was ’Innocent like an Angel’ It's been weeks since I have seen him and I really miss him, I began typing a reply to him.
Me: Yes! What did you want to do? 
Minho: Movie night here at the dorms?
Me: Sounds fun, I'll message you when I'm on my way
I stood from my seat and placed my books in my bag, I realized I had one of the library's book and walked through the aisles to put it back. There were two girls on the other side of the bookcase, I couldn't really see them but when they spoke I recognized their voices; they were two of the friends that cut me off.
They were gossiping about someone, so I ignored them and kept looking for where the book went, then I heard my name and realized they were talking about me.
”She's so pathetic, doesn't she see that no one really cares about her?”
”I feel bad for that one friend of hers, Minho, can you even imagine the stress she puts on him?” 
”I know right! He's an idol, that alone is stressful. Now add her whining and clinginess.” 
I felt tears fall onto my cheeks, am I genuinely like that? My chest was tight and I was frozen in place, listening to how they were trashing me before talking about Minho and how gorgeous he was and how he should just ditch me already.
I finally had enough, after quickly finding the books rightful place and putting it there I rushed out of the library, I took my phone out and messaged Minho.
Me: Nevermind, I'm just gonna stay home tonight. I'd rather not stress you out even more than you already are, I'm sorry. 
I got into my car and sobbed against the steering wheel, I was too deep in my feelings, I felt so pathetic; just like they said. My phone vibrated once, meaning I just received a text, I didn't look at it and then it vibrated again and again. 
Minho: What do you mean?? You could never stress me out 
Minho: What happened?
Minho: Angel please talk to me 
Me: Nothing happened. Just hang out with the boys, I'm sure you'll have more fun.
I didn't receive a reply.
I don't know how I sat and cried in my car, but the sun was setting now so it must've been a while. I finally pull out of my parking space and start driving to my apartment, I feel so emotionally exhausted and the thought of curling up on the couch seems so wonderful. 
I unlocked my door and pushed it open, kicking my shoes off and walking towards my living room and kitchen. I noticed the light was on and just shrugged it off, I must have left it on by accident, I look over and see the sliding door to my porch is open and see a bag of takeout food next to the double seated chair I have out there. 
I look around confused and see Minho’s leather jacket laying across my couch, I don't hear anything, so I call out for him.
”Minho?” 
He immediately pops out of the kitchen with our favorites drinks ”Hey angel,” he says, he sets the drinks down and walks towards me. 
”I know you said you didn't want to hang out, but I also know when something is bothering you.” 
I look away in guilt, I feel even worse that he came over here because I let my feelings take over ”I’m sorry, you didn't have to come over here, I'll be fine,” I mumbled, I felt arms around me as he pulled me into a hug. 
”Stop. I wanted to come here, I wanted to show you that I care about you. I'm always gonna be here for you.” 
I tried to blink away the tears forming in my eyes before he could see them, but when he pulled away a tear fell ”Please don't cry angel,” he whispered and wiped it away. 
”We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but you know I'm a great listener and have a shoulder for you to cry on.” 
I nodded and let out a small ’Thank you’ which makes him smile, he kisses my forehead and grabs my hand and our bottled drinks ”Come on, I got your favorite food out here.” 
He leads me on to the porch and I see he turned on the fairy lights I had out here, we sit down together and he grabs the bag of food, we begin eating and talking about his upcoming comeback, what's happened in our lives the past few weeks, etc.
After we finish eating we sit back and gaze up at the stars, looking for constellations and shooting stars then pointing them out to each other. 
The air was slightly cold but tolerable for myself until a breeze came through, I shivered while hugging myself and Minho noticed. 
”Cold?” 
I nodded and he opened his arm ”Come here, I'll keep you warm,” he spoke softly, I scoot closer to him and he wraps his arm around me as I rest my head on his shoulder.
I blush at our closeness, it's not like we haven't done this before but I've always had a small crush on him, Minho can just make my heart skip a beat without even trying. 
”Thank you for this Minho, you're really amazing,” I say while I look up at him.
”You don't have to thank me, I would do this every night if it made you happy.” 
I raise my eyebrows at him in disbelief, he's just trying to make me feel better, there's no way he would do that. He notices the look on my face and gets a serious one on his. 
”I’m serious, your happiness is important to me. I would do anything to make you happy,” he assures me, keeping his eyes locked with mine, I can't help but ask him ”Why?”
I see him nervously gulp, his eyes unreadable ”Because you mean the world to me,” he confesses, my eyes soften and I'm at a loss for words.
He strokes my cheek and slowly leans in, I don't try to stop him as I wonder if this is a dream or not, our lips touch and mold together as if they were made for each other.
He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine ”Since the day I met you, you've always been the one for me, I've always wanted you to be my girl,” he whispers to me.
I pull him back into the kiss and  he deepens it, sparks flying and lips moving in sync with one another before I pull away to tell him ”I’m already yours.”
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