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cature · 2 months

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💌 ) BEST BELOVED. okay time to be normal. here’s a tag for my comfort characters, never specified by name or dug into in any meaningful depth. i am putting them in my mouth and chewing. i am asking at all times to be reading illuminated treatsies on their actions and their subtexts and their costume designs and their leimotifs and to hold their beating heart in my hands (just to look at it!) and yeah, okay, also sometimes to suck their soul out of their body twice a day for the rest of my life.

💎 ) OLD MONEY. this is quite literally just my blair waldorf tag. it’s the newspapers in print and the purses that don’t carry cash and lipstick made custom and champagne from the valley and not just imitation. it’s the world that gatsby could entertain but never enter. it’s the girls who aren’t daisy. it’s a white winter in the city, but every path you walk on is still clean and dried. the grand vizier, the high pope, the dark curl-spilled queen to serena’s lion-haired king among men, morgan le fey come again to wear chanel.

🔏 ) POETRY. another normal tag! i am a horrific poet with barely a handful of daily lit deviations (i hope reading that phrase gave you flashbacks) under my belt, but the self-published poetry scene is finally recovering from the mass damage that instagram and richard siken fanfic did to it. and i for one am fucking pumped. other quotes with particularly good cadence will also be thrown in here just to jazz things up a bit.

📖 ) MEDIA. i’m on a normal tag roll. these are the stories that are important to me in ways unrelated to comfort characters or my deep abiding need to get plowed by questionable anime men. a lot of my favorite posts end up untagged on my sideblog because they’re not as structured as i like my main to be, so the ones that do make the cut are guaranteed to have been heralded by me physically showing one of my spices my phone.

🥠 ) LITTLE THOUGHTS. essentially a text post tag. a lot of them have tended to be sweet or sad rather than silly, but i like collecting the ones that make me react. fortune cookie emoji feels self-explanatory from there. as with my media tag anything that i like enough to have but not enough to revisit or incorporate into my bird’s nest goes over on a sideblog, so these reblogs are fun treats for me to pick back through.

🪶 ) HOPE AS AN ACTION. “empathy isn’t just something that happens to us - a meteor shower of synapses firing across the brain - it’s also a choice we make: to pay attention, to extend ourselves. It’s made of exertion, that dowdier cousin of impulse. sometimes we care for another because we know we should, or because it’s asked for, but this doesn’t make our caring hollow. this confession of effort chafes against the notion that empathy should always rise unbidden, that genuine means the same thing as unwilled, that intentionality is the enemy of love. but i believe in intention and i believe in work. i believe in waking up in the middle of the night and packing our bags and leaving our worst selves for our better ones.” - leslie jamison.

🫖 ) LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO. domesticity, and family, and growing, and trying your best, and singing without thinking about it, and cooking for eachother, and existing in the world as a participant. being housebound on and off for years has not been good to me even as being happily married and content in my triangle has been a massive act of healing. somewhere in between the two i’m holding on fiercely to celebration of the things i can still do together with them and trying to believe that it can be enough.

🍫 ) BITTERNESS. kind of discourse, kind of venting. i’m not overly invested in collating my opinions daily any more, but i have been saying certain things for actively years now while waiting for the wider zeitgeist to catch up to me and it’s always a pleasure to see a widely accepted and welcome new take from the last three months that i got into a fight in my 2018 dms for suggesting. sometimes i just want to hit people i have blocked with a car. being a sex worker who has to ebeg will do that to otherwise perfectly lovely friendships more than you’d think. sometimes you are all just so, so illiterate. essentially a dump for anything that pisses me off.

🔖 ) AUDIENCE ASIDES. this one is for “reblog and tag yourself” memes and is functionally an about me tag that i fill up only with uquiz answers, disjointed facts from my childhood, and either/or games. they’re fun! not everything has to be complicated. scroll around this tag for interaction bait or just to hang out. maybe one day i’ll port my vent app “which major arcana are you” tag meme over here as a uquiz of some kind. that’d be fun, i think. (i’m the moon, btw. just in case you were wondering. mine was the moon.

🫕 ) BESTIES. this is a catch-all tag for my assorted friends to opt-into that is 110% just about being, yknow, kind of a cunt. all of the references to insane internet-specific drama go here, all of the polycule jokes go here, all of the “hey i know you’re high so i invited a thousand people over” jokes go here, and so does all of the sweet stuff. fondue emoji because that way people can dip in and choose to be included in it or not, and also i am too lazy to tag for each individual 🌈/🐰/🎲/📿/🐱/🐻/fruit code/tumblr mutual/etc vibe.

🕰️ ) FIRST FOLIO. because despite the lobotomy i am in fact a washed-out imitation of both english and art history qualification-havers, and sometimes a bitch wants to talk about the way the world shaped a colour choice or a turn of phrase or an adaptational choice between book and stage or stage and dance. constantly fellating the macmillan romeo juliet choreography, my own imaginary staging of ibsen’s fruen fra havet, and prospero’s final lines in the tempest. this is a dump tag for anything that i would pin to a board like a butterfly if given the chance to do so together with my loved ones.

🌪️ ) OIL ROOM. oh, hey, a normal tag again. an art tag, even, for things that rattle around in my brain for a few days after, or things that i’d spend useless hours trying to dig back up on pinterest to add to a board for a fictional character that has (in a similar manner) started to haunt me. probably going to lean more modern sculpture than traditional oil, but to be fair that is because traditional oils find their way into my other tags and didn’t need an invented catch-all for me to skim back through circa pinterest o'clock in six weeks when i get back to that.

🍳 ) THE AI-KYŌGEN. nice little oc tag for my brats. a truly insane overabundance of girls who are crocodiles in the rivers of their own narrative, girls who are self sufficient because they were grown from seed in total darkness, boys who damn themselves and then damn the world in revenge for it, girls who wear their lives wholecloth like a costume every morning until it fits or it kills them, girls who were too young for the tasks they were trapped with and succeeded anyway, girls who died but didn’t because they only remember how to get back up. and clumbo, my orc detective.

📚 ) DEAD INTERNET. short stories, flash fiction, and other pieces i am trying to scrounge up via the wayback machine. i'm an unabashed pirate who lived off of e-begging for 5 yesrs solid and do not have the money to support authors i like. what i can do is collate every short story i've personally cared for onto an un-searchable blog and cross-index my thoughts on them here.

🧦 ) BULLDOZE VENICE. disability talk, encompassing everything from my mental health conditions / sanism to physical disability justice, marriage equality, institutional ableism, and how developmental disability is treated by the wider populace. i don't believe in "mental age" and i don't steal the terms nonverbal/nonspeaking for autistics with high support needs who suffer the most under the pseudo-aba assumptions that you can make yourself speak if needed.

🍱 ) TEXT POSTING. basically the same as my audience asides tag but for posts i personally am making to bitch about running a blog, or changes i am midway through making on this one, or polls about which of my previous tagging system sections i should port over to this blog en masse that day.

📟 ) MIXTAPE. i know i run ostensibly a sideblog for music but i do also like specific songs i want to put here and cross-reference into other tags. since the ancient websites i used to use to listen to just the songs on my rp blogs in another google chrome tab has gone totally under i will have to make that possible another way (that isn't using spotify, because i'm lazy sometimes).

🎫 ) TO REMEMBER. quotable bits that i am going to drop for years into bios. i used to try to run this as a sideblog on its own for cross-referencing but porting the entire mountain goats lyrical discography was hard and i quit. i still need somewhere to store the "spit his cum back at him like a camel" post that has haunted my dreams for a thousand years.

#🗝#♟️#💌#💎#🔏#📖#🥠#🪶#🫖#🍫#🔖#🫕#🕰️#🌪️#🍳#📚#🧦#🍱#📟#🎫

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keefwho · 1 year

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July 24 - 2023 Monday

10:43 PM

Today I felt very bleh, like my head was empty. Might be due to the missed sleep the past couple days so I’ll be sure to get to bed on time tonight for real.

For breakfast I had half a totino’s pizza, a pear cup, and a couple oreos. I spent my brief free time playing Neopets games.

The stream went okay. My warmup kinda sucked because I’m trying to figure out a way to do sketches on my sketch sheet then finish those on a new canvas while still retaining the feeling that everything is real loose. For a little bit I was just finishing them as low res thumbnails on the sketch sheet itself but the point of the sheet is to be a collection of incomplete and experimental things. Having completed drawing in it does not sit right with me but taking a sketch and moving it to a new canvas makes it feel more important than it is. The point is to make a little doodle that turned out good enough to post, not a pre-planned successful kind of drawing. Im sure I’ll figure something out. I feel there is a lot I need to improve on with my process and how exactly I color including the actual brush settings. There will be lots of experimenting in my future. Also on stream we finally got to watch more episodes of Rugrats because we watched the movie that ties seasons together this weekend in Discord. We also watching Courage and I’m thinking we will watch 1 episode of each show a day. I only did half commission time today and spent a little more time finishing an emote commission I had.

After stream I did my workout in it’s entirety despite how physically tired I felt. I really had to push through this one but that’s kind of the point isn’t it. I meant to clean up first but I forgot so I cleaned up after my shower. In the shower I was about to ask my friend straight up if I had permission to think about them while I took care of myself but I decided to do it to something else intentionally. I’ve briefly brought this up to them before. I think it’s given that sometimes we jerk off to each other without the other knowing. However I know how she feels about being sexualized and sometimes I can’t help but wonder if she would actually appreciate me thinking about her like that on my own time sometimes. It bothers me enough that I do think it would good to ask permission beforehand or have a brief discussion about it. This might be weird of me but I’m just listening to how I feel. I respect her tremendously and want to exercise expressing that.

For lunch I was excited to make a hearty helping of Rice a Roni with lentils, meatballs, broccoli, green beans, and onions. It turned out okay as usual but I was hoping it came out better. It was still a solid meal. I invested more time into Neopets while it cooked. I’m enjoying some of the minigames.

I feel I did a poor job on today’s request. The whole time I was thinking about how I want to make something I can be proud of but it just wasn’t coming together. It came out okayish but I wanted to do better. Next I spent an hour working on a TOTK pic of my otter and my friend’s sona. I mostly tidied up the sketch and then completely lined it, taking extra care to do a good job so thats why it took so long. After that work was officially over but I wanted to do more so I briefly setup the new horse avatar I got so I can start turning it into my most recent horse sona.

I spent time in my friend’s server where there was a lot of negative talk about one of my other friends about his overly sexual behavior. I felt sort of bad because it was more or less shit talking them behind their back and I was just going along with it. Usually if I talk about him with others, its coming from a place of at least mild affection. Some of this was just mean though.

Tonight I watched my friend give me a sort of rundown of the Neopets website and some of it’s history, I liked listening to her about it. I love hearing her be passionate about anything. After that we hopped on Pony Town for a tiny bit and looked at characters people made before checking out my little house and giving each other horse kisses. I started dinner while she headed up to bed and we chatted a bit.

Today I wasn’t proud of much. Just the usual amount of proud for doing things to the best of my ability. I did well on my workout especially, and doing that little bit of extra avatar work.

For some reason my self perspective was very lacking today. I kinda just wasn’t there, at least not in a great capacity. Looking back there were moments that would have benefitted me being more involved in the present. Spending time with anyone is a good example because it only becomes truly meaningful if I am offering my full attention and appreciation. Tomorrow will be another day to exercise my awareness and put it to good use.

#journal #diary #self awareness

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harry-on-broadway · 3 years

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Ever Since New York

Chapter 3: Droppin’ Into the Deep End

Rating: M || Word Count: 3.4k || Series Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to @sunnyville36 for hyping up this chapter! Can’t wait to hear everyone else’s thoughts!

“My favorite thing about New York is the people, because I think they’re misunderstood. I don’t think people realize how kind New York people are.”— Bill Murray

Greta woke up feeling foggy, not from the alcohol but the Harry hangover. She couldn’t believe how much she fucked up.

Since her early days of middle school theater she had been opposed to getting romantically involved with co-stars (and not just because no one wanted to date her during her school years). Showmances just created unnecessary drama and inevitably fizzled when the show ended and the real world started up again. She also knew that as an up-and-coming actress, if she attached herself to a man, she would cease to exist on her own and only exist in relation to him.

She had experienced it firsthand with Thomas. When they started dating, they had both been early on in their careers and no one, except their mutual friends, were invested in the relationship. But as their profiles increased, so did interest in them as people. And when Thomas was nominated for his Oscar, a permanent shift happened. Tony-nominated actress Greta Alcott ceased to exist, being replaced by Greta Alcott, Thomas Miller’s girlfriend. She never had a hard and fast rule about dating others working in the entertainment industry, but after what happened with Thomas, she was beginning to reconsider.

As she sat up and silenced her alarm, Greta thought back to last night and her kiss with Harry. She couldn’t deny how wonderful it was, but knew getting involved with him would be even more suffocating than her relationship with Thomas.

In the four weeks since it had been announced that Harry would be joining the show, Greta had gained nearly 400,000 followers on Instagram and a nearly equal number on Twitter. She wasn’t super active on social media, usually posting the requisite promotional materials for projects she was working on, but suddenly the comments section of all of her Instagram posts, even weird overly filtered ones from her early days on the platform, were filled with questions, ranging from “What does Harry smell like?” and “Is he really 6 feet tall?” to “Are you all dating?” She had yet to acknowledge the man publicly and his fans were already projecting a relationship onto them. If, and it was a big if, they did get together, she would forever be known as Harry Styles’ girlfriend.

She grabbed some cold brew from the fridge and got to work making her favorite omelette while she reviewed notes from yesterday’s rehearsal. Tech was days away and rehearsals had intensified. The once jokey and fun loving energy had been replaced by a laser focus as the company worked to memorize dialogue, music, and choreography, and while Nina was a kind director, she had become less forgiving with those who were not yet living up to her expectations. Neither Greta nor Harry had made a misstep yet and she hoped their moment last night wouldn’t result in a loss of focus.

After finishing breakfast, Greta quickly showered and dressed, before gathering her notes and other items she’d need throughout the day. Glancing at her phone as she locked her door, she realized that if she hurried, she’d get to rehearsal almost an hour early, which would give her time to prepare what she was going to say to Harry.

As she walked through the city, she tried not to think about the look on Harry’s face as the elevator closed last night. Hurt. That was the only way to describe his expression. And while Greta didn’t want to get involved with him, she couldn’t handle being the one to cause him pain.

When she arrived at the rehearsal space, she was pleased to find that she was the only one there. Sitting down against the wall opposite the mirror, she pulled out her phone and bounced from app to app, mindlessly liking Instagram posts and watching Snap stories. She should just be honest with him, right? Telling him that she avoided relationships with co-stars as an act of professionalism was the truth. She didn’t need to divulge her personal identity crisis with him. She hoped he would understand.

She heard the door squeak and looked up. Shit. There was Harry. He hadn’t noticed her yet and Greta took in the way he moved, carefully pulling the door shut behind him, preventing it from slamming. He paused his music and took out his headphones, before looking up. The two made eye contact and he offered a little wave. His eyes fell when Greta didn’t return it.

He made his way over to Greta, pulling down his mask. “Hey,” he said. “I was hoping you’d be here.” Though his smile was tentative, his dimples popped. “Um, last night was…” He ran his hand through his hair as he searched for words.

“Last night should never have happened.” Greta cut him off. “I’m sorry to have led you on like that, but I just can’t date a co-star. It’s a matter of professionalism. I’m sure you get it.”

Harry’s face fell. “Um, yeah. Sure.” He chuckled wryly and shook his head. “Not what I was thinking but I guess I appreciate your honesty.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Nothing much. Just how the prettiest girl at the party was the easiest person to talk to and that in the hallway I felt calm and happy for the first time in weeks.”

“Harry--”

“Please don’t.”

“Nothing has to change. We can still talk and hang out and work together. We just have to forget that kiss ever happened.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Why not? It was just one kiss.”

“Maybe to you, but I really like you, Greta,” Harry said. “Last night it felt like something shifted between us. And it felt good. I thought you felt it too, but I guess it was all in my head.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t feel good,” Greta said, suddenly feeling small. “I just can’t do this. With you. When we’re working together.”

“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Harry said. “I get it.” He turned on his heel and walked back towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Greta asked.

“Grabbing coffee,” Harry said. He put in his headphones and pulled up his hood and mask, seemingly ending the conversation.

Greta felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t think he would take it this way and a wave of nausea suddenly washed over her, knowing she had just done the exact thing she had tried to avoid.

Forty-five minutes later Harry returned with coffee and red-rimmed eyes. As the room started to fill with other cast members, Greta made her way over to him. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but she guessed she was looking for some sort of absolution for her earlier statements.

“Harry--”

“It’s fine.”

“No--”

“It’s fine,” he said. “We’ll just save the chemistry for the stage. Your message is loud and clear.”

Nina must have called rehearsal to order, but Greta didn’t hear. She moved through each scene, nailing her marks and choreography, not calling for “line” once. No one could tell that she was falling apart on the inside.

Harry on the other hand was an obvious mess. He stumbled over dialogue he had memorized weeks ago, bumped into dancers as they worked through a routine, and lost his place in multiple songs. At one point, Nina called hold and pulled him aside to figure out what was going wrong. After that, he managed to pull himself together, though the performance he put forth was miles away from where it had been yesterday. At the end of the day he had never been so happy to leave a rehearsal, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

Greta knew it was all her fault.

“Something going on?” Tanya asked.

“How would I know?” Greta responded as she toweled off and shoved her tap shoes and script into her tote.

“Well, you two left the party together last night and didn’t come back.”

“We didn’t leave together.”

Tanya laughed. “Whatever you say. But seriously. Is everything OK?”

“You’ll have to ask Harry,” Greta said, moving towards the door. “I’m perfectly fine.”

She made it to the lobby before she started crying.

Across town, Harry picked at his dinner pretending to follow the conversation around him.

Last night he had been on cloud nine. Finally kissing Greta -- really kissing her without a roomful of people watching their every move -- was better than he ever could have imagined. Her lips were soft and she tasted sweet. And her scent. He didn’t know if it was shampoo or perfume, but she smelled incredible. He was pretty sure it was Greta and not the tequila that was responsible for the headache he woke up with.

After they parted last night, he knew something was off, namely due to the way she bolted for the elevator, but he attributed it to Greta being surprised by the chemistry between them. Obviously he had been miles off.

He still felt bruised from her words this morning. Deep down, he knew she hadn’t done anything cruel: She had apologized and been honest which is all he could ask for. But after spending the night thinking about what it would be like to wake up cuddled next to her and kiss her as they shared coffee, her words cut deep.

Despite having only known each other for a few weeks, he didn’t realize how much he had come to depend on Greta, whether it was her eyes offering encouragement as they shared a scene or the little smile she would give him when he really nailed a piece of choreography. And their conversations made him feel like he was actually part of the team. While he tried to be friendly with everyone it still felt like there was a barrier between him and the rest of the cast. They watched his every move, but refused to engage with him. He had even caught a couple surreptitiously trying to take photos of him during breaks.

But Greta was different. Starting on the first official day of rehearsal they had become unofficial lunch buddies, dashing out to pick up soup or salad at nearby restaurants and returning to the studio to have mini picnics on the wood floor. Sometimes they talked about what they had seen on TV the night before, and he learned that at night after her roommate went to sleep, she watched reruns of old sitcoms with her cat, Sir Reynolds. Other times, particularly if he was struggling with the day’s work, he asked her questions about how he could improve or surveyed her on different tricks he could use to strengthen his dance skills. But more often than not they sat in companionable silence, which was oftentimes the highlight of his day.

Which was another reason today was so painful. He had told himself not to look for her during the lunch break, racing to the elevator to grab some food and find a place to eat unnoticed. But his plan backfired when he arrived at a nearby cafe, only to find that Greta was in front of him in the line. After ordering, he saw her make her way over to him, but he turned his back, pretending to be engrossed in his phone. He knew he should be mature about this, especially since Greta hadn’t done anything wrong. But he was too raw and even the most minimal of interactions reopened his wounds.

“Does that work for you, H?”

He looked up from his salmon and found Jeff and Glenne looking at him curiously. “Sure. Fine by me.”

“OK well now I know you weren’t listening because there’s no way in hell you’d agree to do an Instagram live,” Jeff said with a laugh. “Where’d you go man? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Harry scowled at his plate.

“Well we all know you’re lying, H,” Glenne said. “So, you can tell us what’s the matter and we can maybe help you. Or you can continue to pout and agree to things you have no interest in doing.”

Harry looked at Glenne and sighed. “Fine. Rehearsal sucked today.”

“Care to elaborate?” she asked.

“It really sucked.”

“Wow! Great story,” she said, hoping her sarcasm would cheer him up. It didn’t.

“Is this a work matter?” Jeff asked. “Because if there’s issues with hours or someone in the cast, I’m more than happy to step in and be the asshole.”

“It’s nothing you can solve,” Harry said, picking up his knife and putting it back down again. “It’s a girl,” he said, mentally rolling his eyes at how juvenile this all sounded.

“A girl?!” Glenne shrieked with surprise. “I want all the details.”

“There’s not much to talk about,” Harry said. He was silent for a moment, picking up his knife again and pushing around food on his plate. “I liked Greta and thought she felt the same so I kissed her. But she doesn’t like me. End of story.”

“Greta? Like Greta Alcott Greta?” Jeff asked incredulously. “Like the woman you are supposed to be working with for the next several months.”

“Yes, that Greta,” Harry said, somehow feeling worse than he had all day. Jeff and Glenne expectantly looked for details. “She’s like the best person, and I kissed her yesterday. And I thought it was great. But this morning she told me that it was a mistake because she doesn’t date co-stars.”

“That’s disappointing,” Glenne said slowly. “But not the worst thing?”

“Well, after she told me that, I kind of shut down and blamed her. Like I usually do.”

“Oh, H,” Glenne said softly.

Jeff shook his head. “Sorry, man. That sucks.” He bit back a smile before he started laughing.

Glenne cut her eyes to him and swatted his shoulder. “Jeff, be nice.”

“I’m sorry it’s just nice to see him all moony and heart eyed again.”

“What about this is moony and heart eyed, Jeffrey?” Harry asked. “I’m in agony!”

“H, if you’re this broken up about one kiss, you’ve got it bad.”

Harry sighed. “No comment.”

The next morning, Harry arrived at rehearsal exactly five minutes before it started, aiming to minimize his time with Greta. He knew he could solve all his problems by apologizing, but he wanted a few more days to lick his wounds. He was surprised to find everyone, except Greta, getting ready to take their places. He put his bag down and moved towards the stage, when Greta rushed in dropping her things and heading to the stage.

Usually flawlessly put together, he couldn’t help but notice something was off about Greta. Instead of the bright clothes she typically wore, she was in an old college t-shirt and jeans, with a baseball hat covering her head. Her eyes looked watery and he couldn’t tell if allergies or tears were the culprit. He moved towards her and right as he opened his mouth to ask, Nina clapped her hands, calling rehearsal to order.

As they went from scene to scene, Harry knew something was wrong. Today, Greta was the one missing cues and flubbing lines. No one said anything, but Harry could see other cast members exchanging glances and prayed Greta couldn’t. When they finished the final scene, Nina appeared at a loss for words.

“Well. That certainly wasn’t our best run. Greta, is everything OK?”

Greta nodded, but said nothing.

“Alright,” Nina said hesitantly. “We finished ahead of schedule so why don’t we break for lunch a little early. I’ll see you all back here at 12:45.”

Harry went to grab his phone and wallet, and when he turned around Greta had disappeared. While he wasn’t sure he was ready to have a conversation with her, he felt an urge to comfort her.

He didn’t see her in the hallway, but out the corner of his eye, he noticed the door to the staircase was ajar. He made his way over and when he looked inside, what he saw broke his heart.

Greta was sitting on the stairs, shoulders heaving as she cried. Forgetting his own pain, Harry moved to sit beside her. When his leg bumped hers, she looked up at him.

“I’m fine,” Greta said. “You don’t need to check on me.”

“I’m not here for you,” Harry said. “I was just looking for a place to sit.” He paused. “But are you OK? You seemed a little off this morning.”

Greta opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words, a sob came out. She sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK, nothing to apologize for. Just take a breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

Greta took a couple of shaky breaths, and turned to look at Harry. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Do you want to talk about it?”

Greta sighed. “It’s Thomas -- my ex.”

“Oh.”

“We broke up like two years ago but he has a new girlfriend. They, well she, had a baby last night and I don’t know it’s just really throwing me off.”

Harry stared straight ahead. Was this why Greta had been so upset about their kiss? Was she using the whole “I don’t date my co-stars” excuse to cover up that she still had feelings for her ex? “I’m sorry. That must be hard when you still have feelings for him.”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Have feelings for him.” Greta turned to face Harry. “I’m completely over him.”

“OK…” Harry tried to mask his confusion. “Are you upset about something else then? You’re going to have to fill me in.”

“It’s just…” Greta started, choking back another sob. “I didn’t expect him to move on so quickly. And the fact that he has moved on and I’m...alone and will always be alone...It just hurts more than I expected.”

Harry nodded. “Well, first of all you’re not alone. I’m sitting right next to you.” He nudged Greta’s knee again. “Second, there’s no shame in not finding someone right away. We all move at our own pace. You just haven’t found the right person yet.”

“I know I’m self-sabotaging. I work all the time and when I do put myself out there I just put up walls and lash out.”

“I can say from experience your bark is worse than your bite.”

Greta winced. “Why are you being so nice to me? Especially after yesterday?”

“Because you’ve charmed me, Greta Alcott. And that’s not easy since I’m usually the one doing the charming.”

Greta laughed, a real one this time. “Well I don’t know what it says about you that me accusing you of using this show as a cash grab and shutting you out after a great kiss counts as charming, but I guess I’ll take that.”

“A great kiss you say?” Harry wiggled his eyebrows and Greta laughed again, wiping her eyes dry with the collar of her shirt.

“Thank you, Harry.”

He nodded and checked the time on his phone. “If we want to actually eat something during lunch we probably should go.”

Greta jumped up. “Oh yeah, for sure. You want to grab some soup from Bichon? Let me grab my purse.”

“It’s my treat.”

“Harry, you don’t have to do that.”

“Think of it as a time saver.”

“Well, thank you.”

Harry moved to stand as Greta walked towards the door.

“Greta?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not alone. There’s people all around who care about you. Some are probably even closer than you think.”

Greta looked at her feet. “Thanks, Harry. For the words and the soup.”

That night, Harry once again found himself at dinner with Jeff and Glenne, his surly demeanor of last night replaced with a bright smile and chipper attitude, a change that was not unnoticed by his companions.

“Good rehearsal, H?” Jeff asked with a knowing grin.

“It was fine.”

“Did you talk to Greta?” Glenne asked.

“Um, a little.”

“What do you mean a little?” Jeff said.

“She was having a rough morning and I talked it out with her. We got some soup.”

“Soup you say?” Glenne said with a glint in her eye.

“Yes, soup. We had lunch and finished rehearsal. End of story.”

“Somehow, I don’t think this is the end,” Jeff said with a chuckle. “Harry’s in love.”

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reidingmelodies · 4 years

Text

Sugar Rush

Summary: Who knew finding the perfect wedding day dessert was so much work? Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Category: Fluff Includes: Food consumption, light kissing Word Count: 2.4K

“Did you know the first wedding cake was most likely served in Ancient Greece?” Spencer began, looking down to where you were laying with your head snuggled against his chest. You hummed in interest, moving your hand to meet his where it rested on his lower stomach, intertwining your fingers together. Spencer smiled at the gesture before continuing his spiel, “But one of the earliest mentions of wedding cake originates from Ancient Rome where the cake was actually broken over the bride’s head in the hopes of bringing them good fortune in their life together”.

Your brows furrowed at that, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. “Well, we certainly won’t be doing that at our wedding,” you giggled, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Flipping your hands over, he brought your hand to his line of sight and admired the engagement ring resting on your ring finger. “Do you want to smash cake in my face after we cut it?”

You thought for a second before shaking your head. “I don’t think so- unless that’s something you want to do? I don’t even get why that’s a thing in the first place, it seems kind of gross”.

Spencer sighed in relief, beyond grateful that wasn’t something you wanted to do. He loved you, and he was more than happy to exchange germs with you in other ways- but throwing cake at each other definitely wasn’t his style. “I’m glad you don’t because I feel the same way. Cutting the wedding cake is traditionally seen as a symbol of a couple’s commitment to each other, and I don’t want to ruin that by throwing cake in your face”.

You smiled, rolling over slightly until your stomach laid against his and propping your head up to look down at him. Spencer hummed in approval at the new position, moving his hand from yours and resting it on your lower waist. “Plus,” you added, “we’re paying way too much for the cake to waste a single drop of it”.

Spencer laughed in agreement, pushing himself up lightly to give you a soft kiss on your lips. “So no cake smash- there’s one part of the great cake debate settled”. You groaned at his words, dropping your head and burrowing your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

“I don’t understand why there’s so many cake flavors to choose from! Honestly, do we even need a cake?” you groaned, voice coming out as no more than a mumble against your fiancé’s neck. Spencer rubbed your back soothingly, before humming in acknowledgement.

“We’ll figure it out, babe,” he reassured you, giving your forehead a quick kiss. “On the bright side, regardless of whether we pick one or not we’ll get to try at least twenty different types of cakes for lunch tomorrow”.

“I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” you laughed, pushing your upper half up to once again look at his face. “But as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” you finished, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss on his lips.

“What a sap,” Spencer jokingly mumbled against your lips, causing you to pull away and playfully roll your eyes at him.

“A sap you decided to spend the rest of your life with,” you countered with a smirk, eyes softening in admiration at the grin that spread across Spencer’s face with your words.

“Best decision I ever made,” Spencer claimed softly, sealing his declaration with a concession of kisses against your lips.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair and continuing what you started- leaving the discussion of cakes and all things wedding behind, choosing instead to spend the night entangled with your fiancé, trading kisses and whispered declarations of love well into the evening.

***

The next morning, you sat in the kitchen nursing your cup of coffee while Spencer took a shower before you headed to the bakery. It had been six months of engagement bliss for you and Spencer, and you both found yourself on an impenetrable high for the first three months with no qualms. As far as the two of you were concerned, you were irrevocably in love with each other, full stop. You didn’t know when you wanted to get married, or where, but you knew that you wanted him by your side for the rest of your personal slice of eternity.

Eventually, that answer stopped being met with aw’s from your friends, and instead had been met with playful eyerolls followed by logistical questions regarding the wedding. It became apparent pretty quickly that there wasn’t a where or when anywhere in your plan, but the who, what, and why were pretty clear. And when it came to wedding planning, the last three took the back burner. Who would have thought?

Weekends cuddled up with your fiancé turned into Friday nights spent researching, Saturday afternoons filled with venue tours, and Sunday mornings comparing notes (and somehow, that was always the part that lasted the longest when it came to you and Spencer).

Once the venue was secured, you both became invested in the rest of the details that made your special day unique to the two of you, settling on a lilac color scheme and Save the Dates in the form of bookmarks. Everything settled into place pretty quickly after that, except for the dreaded cake.

There was just too much to it. Between the design, number of layers, and flavors there statistically wasn’t a high probability of pleasing all of your guests much to Spencer’s dismay. And as much as everyone said that the most important thing was that you and Spencer were happy with the cake, the two of you were more than happy with each other, and that’s all you really cared about.

“Ready, Y/N?” Spencer broke you from your train of thought and drew your attention towards him. He smiled, holding a travel mug of coffee in one hand and your car keys in the other, motioning towards the door with his head.

You nodded, taking the keys and heading towards the door with the love of your life in tow, internally cursing yourself for stressing out half as much as you have about a silly cake.

***

Two hours later, and one thing was for sure- you were right to be stressed. The owner of the bakery was one of the sweetest women you’ve ever met (the title of sweetest belonged to Penelope Garcia, hands down), but as welcoming and supportive as she was you still felt like a fish out of water.

You and Spencer were ushered into a room with exactly twenty-three cake samples laid out on tables, accompanied by open portfolios and photos of some of the bakery’s most renowned creations. In the time since your arrival you’ve tasted flavors ranging from lemon raspberry to mocha chocolate and you were exhausted.

You couldn’t help but feel like the universe was punishing you and Spencer for joking around the previous night about how great it would be to eat cake for lunch. You leaned over to tell Spencer just as much, and the exhaustion was almost worth it when you saw his smile illuminate the entirety of his face.

“What happened to ‘as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad’?” he jokingly questioned, booping your nose and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek when he saw the joking glare beginning to form on your face.

“Changed my mind when you called me a sap,” you retorted with a smirk followed by a quick squeeze of his hand so he knew you weren’t serious. Your comment made him laugh, and soon enough you were both in a fit of giggles surrounded by mountains of cake and half looked through portfolios.

As your laughter died down the reality of the situation you were in began to set it. You loved all of the cake you tried, but everything about what you were doing just didn’t feel right. The more you envisioned your cake, the cloudier the picture became. All you knew was that you wanted something that screamed you and Spence, but none of the flavors you tried did that. You sighed, and Spencer immediately perked up, forever in tune to you and your needs.

“What’s going on up there, love?” Spencer tapped the side of your head lightly with his pointer finger, causing the right side of your lip to slightly curl up.

“If I ask you something will you be honest?” you asked, putting your hand on top of his.

Spencer immediately nodded, grasping his fingers with yours and bringing your hand to his lips. “Always”.

“Do you picture any of these cakes at our wedding?” You questioned, bringing the closest portfolio towards you with your free hand and flipping through the first few pages. “They’re all so pretty, but I just don’t think they’re us, ya know?”

It was quiet for a beat longer than you expected, and for a second you were nervous you had somehow offended Spencer. But when you looked up and met his eyes, all you found was his understanding gaze looking back at you.

“I completely get what you mean,” he began, squeezing your hand before continuing his thought, “but Y/N.. do you really think that we’ll ever find a dessert that’s more us than donuts?”

You knew right away that he was joking, but you also couldn’t help but smile at the flood of memories that overtook you once he said it.

As Penelope liked to call your relationship, “the greatest love story of this generation” began just a block south of the bakery you were at over chocolate sprinkled donuts and coffee. It was a Tuesday morning, and you were running a few minutes late in your morning routine. You usually got to the cafe around 8:15, just before the majority of the 9-5 workforce showed up for their morning coffee fix.

That day though, you had missed your usual metro and walked in the door of the café at 8:27 AM. It was overly crowded, and you were already dreading waiting in the overpopulated line for your coffee, but as luck would have it Dr. Spencer Reid had picked that exact morning to treat the BAU to coffee and donuts.

He had walked in the door behind you, smiling in recognition at the book he saw peeking out of your bag. Before he could stop himself, he tapped you on your shoulder, reciting a fact about the author of the book. Almost immediately, his face dropped, worried that you were going to tell him off for being nosy.

To his relief though, you smiled and asked him for his opinion on the book- before you knew it, you both made it to the front of the line, and you found yourself longing for more time with the stranger who seemed to know an infinite amount of fun facts.

As you both waited for your coffee and donuts, you took a leap of faith and asked Spencer if he’d want to meet up for breakfast the next morning. To your delight he agreed, and the rest was history. After three months of sporadic breakfast dates whenever Spencer wasn’t away on a case (mainly consisting of you trying all of the donuts on the café menu and Spencer sticking to chocolate frosted with sprinkles), he took his own leap of faith and asked you out on a date beyond the comforting walls of the café.

As far as you were concerned, donuts were a fundamental part of your love story, and Spencer was a genius.

You smiled at the memory, turning to Spencer and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. He gave you a lovesick grin in response- “what was that for?”

“Have I ever told you you’re the smartest man I know?”

Immediately, Spencer nodded. “Just last week when I told you how many books have been published by Penguin Random House. You also said it the week before when we were talking about polar bears and I-” your laugh caused him to lose focus, all of his attention instead focused on the way your smile lit up your whole face.

“Okay, okay so I call you a genius a lot- sue me,” you countered, giggling with every word that came out of your mouth. “I think you’re onto something with donuts though”.

“Wait, really? I was just kidding,” the confusion was obvious on Spencer’s face, but it was laced with excitement as well and you knew right then and there that he was as hooked on the idea as you were.

“I know you were, but that doesn’t make it any less genius! It’s just so us. And not only that, but think of all the different flavors we can get! That way everyone has a choice over what dessert they have and we don’t need to stress over finding one most people will like. Oh my gosh babe, and Penelope can definitely help us think of a cute way to set them up! Maybe we can do a cake stand or put them out in a buffet style?” You made eye contact with Spencer, eyes widening as you realized you haven’t even asked for his opinion yet. Softly, you brought your ramble to a close, doubt slowly kicking in, “Unless you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

Smiling, Spencer stood from his chair and motioned for you to do the same. Considering the fact that you would do anything he asked you to, you followed suit and he pulled you into his side, planting a kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re the real genius in this relationship, Y/N”. You giggled at that, and Spencer continued, “it’s an amazing idea. And you and I both know Penelope is gonna love that you thought of her to help us put it together. How about we go to the café and see if they’d be able to help us out, hm? Maybe grab some donuts while we’re there too?”

You nodded enthusiastically, before grimacing at the idea of having another sweet, “We’re gonna have a sugar rush for the next week, Spence”.

“Every day with you is a sugar rush, Y/N,” he quipped, trying to hold back his laughter at the disbelieving look on your face.

You chuckled, leaning in for one of many sugary sweet kisses awaiting you that afternoon before playfully retorting, “And you have the audacity to call me the sap in this relationship.”

***

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

This is for the ask event! The prompt I have is where Connor is struggling with being deviant after the revolution. He tries to act just like a non-deviant towards everyone. And when Hank realizes what's going on, he tries to comfort Connor. He tries to tell Connor that he doesn't have to be 'just a robot' anymore.

//I am in love with this! Thank you!!!!

It was the jacket, if Hank had to pick the first tiny red flag after the revolution that had him worried for Connor. He hadn’t gotten rid of that damn jacket, it was like a brand and Hank hated it. These things took time he supposed. One week you were a machine designed to track and hunt your own kind, the next you were a person. It was not only a big change but a sudden one. Hank could understand the difficulty to let go of it; there were things he still carried with him after all. The next was the way he spoke, it was still measured and artificial. Connor was still trying to please whomever he was with. It had been easy at first to just assume that Connor’s personality was that of someone who was mild mannered, it would make sense. There were two issues with that though; someone who was mild mannered probably wouldn’t have broken your god damned kitchen window to get inside when they were otherwise capable of getting through the door, and the fact when Hank had casually asked his opinion on something he was well aware Connor wouldn’t have liked he rolled to red for a long moment before picking an answer designed to appease him. Hank would have liked to say that he understood the struggle; but he didn’t, becoming an alcoholic was easy. Becoming a sentient being, he had to imagine was not. The one thing Hank considered himself well versed in though, was taking baby steps, if AA had taught him anything, that was the place to start. Find the smallest thing Connor was struggling with and start there. It seemed easy enough; until Hank thought about the fact that it involved getting Connor to open up to him honestly rather than just trying to say what he thought Hank wanted to hear.

Connor had a particular fondness for Sumo, perhaps he could be the icebreaker. Hank was well aware that he was probably putting more thought into this than a ‘concerned coworker’ ought to, but you could only watch someone come into themself so many times before you were invested, and the number of times Connor had been through this just during the case was well over whatever that number was. The kid deserved a break, god knows he earned it after every thing. So that was his plan. Invite Connor over to see Sumo and go from there. He wasn’t sure what he would do, but he had seen glimpses of who Connor was beneath his coding and he wanted to let that version of him out. A selfish motive? Probably, but that was okay. Connor had been suspicious, which was fair. Hank hadn’t been all that great to him at first, but his fascination with dogs apparently had won out and he agreed to come over on Saturday and spend the day with them. Of course, the one part of this plan Hank had overlooked was needing to have his house somewhat presentable. Sure Connor had seen it before, but Hank liked to believe he had made progress since then. The state of his house would dare to disagree.

His evenings amounted to a marginally successful attempt to give Sumo a bath, cleaning his house, and trying to find bottled thirium that wasn’t overly expensive. He found a carbonated kind that he thought Connor might find interesting and bought that as well. He also bought beer, but he could tweak that into a good friend didn’t let their guest drink alone. Connor probably wouldn’t believe it, but that was an issue for another time. The thing about keeping busy was that the weekdays tended to roll by a little faster, so it was Saturday before Hank was mentally prepared for it. He reminded himself that he wasn’t trying to solve this problem; if he was honest, he knew he probably couldn’t even if he tired; he was just looking for a starting point. Something to give Connor to remind him of his agency. That didn’t make him anymore ready for the long buzz of his doorbell at ten in the morning. That was one thing that was uniquely Connor he supposed, the kid rang doorbells like an ass. Hank chuckled at the thought as he opened the door and used his free hand to hold on to Sumo’s collar so he wouldn’t knock Connor over. “I hope I’m not here too early.” Connor said in way of a greeting as he came inside. “You’re fine.” Hank responded, “I’ll be honest though, when I said you could come over at anytime today I was worried you show up at the ass crack of dawn.” “I thought about it.” Connor smiled, it was his artificial one, but it was better than nothing, “But you aren’t known for being up in the mornings.”

Hank rolled his eyes as he let go of Sumo, he was glad for the banter. Sumo was glad for the company as he immediately jumped on Connor. For a moment Hank was worried Connor would be knocked flat, but he only moved one of his feet back half a step and braced himself. He held Sumo’s weight and gladly showered him in attention while Sumo investigated their new houseguest. It was only slight, but Connor’s calculated exterior thawed some. That was progress. Sumo seemed to have satisfied his curiosity and settled back on the floor, though he kept close to his new friend. The smile was still on Connor’s lips but it was softer now, a little more natural and Hank wondered if he even knew he was doing it. “Did you need help with a case?” Connor asked as Hank moved toward the living room. “No.” Hank replied, “I could use the company and you could use a break.” “I don’t need to take breaks. I can incapable of feeling exhaustion.” Came Connor’s remark. “Trust me kid, just because you don’t feel it, or aren’t ‘supposed’ to doesn’t mean its not there.” Hank explained as he settled onto the couch, “You’ve been through a lot, and while you might be feeling alright, that doesn’t mean you aren’t stressed. One day alright, that’s all I’m asking.”

Connor was standing at the far end of the couch and he was on red again, and oblivious to Sumo nudging at his hand. He had never seen Connor with so much emotion on his features, he felt guilty that the emotion of the moment seemed to be panic, but he would take that over the blank expression that was his default. “How - hypothetically speaking of course- how would someone know they were stressed... If they had never felt such a thing before?” Hank hummed as Connor sat down on the couch and finally paid mind to Sumo again. “Hypothetically speaking, it would come across as losing interest in the things that person liked to do; things like work, licking god awful substances, asking invasive questions, and telling their partner exactly what inedible things are in their chicken sandwich. Then its falling back on the routines you have built for yourself or learned from others and following them rigidly, anything to make things more manageable. They might distance themself from the people around them and bury themself in work, because they need to keep busy.” He watched Connor’s LED roll, it was blue with flicks of yellow on occasion, and Hank was almost certain he saw a flash of red once. Connor was absently petting the top of Sumo’s head as he chased his own thoughts. Hank had never seen him this pensive before, not even at the worst of their crime scenes. “Hypothetically speaking again, how would you suggest someone overcome that stress?”

“Take a break.” Hank said without hesitating, “A day or a weekend to just be. Whatever that means for them, spending time with a friend, going clothes shopping, licking something questionable. Something that they liked that they haven’t gotten to do in a while.” “So, if they wanted to get rid of a jacket or some clothes, that would be okay?” Connor didn’t quite drop the pretense of the hypothetical, but internally Hank cheered. “I would say they should go for it.” He said with a smile. “Hank. I would like to burn my issued clothes if that is ok.” Connor said in a serious enough tone that had Hank choking on a laugh. “When it starts getting dark we can have a bon fire, but first we need to get you something else to wear.” Hank agreed. While it wasn’t how he thought today would go, Hank counted it as a victory.

@inverted-writes

(Prompt from this list)

#Canonverse 'short'#Hank and Connor #dbh Hank #dbh Connor #rk800 #160 follower ask event!#ask panda #panda has all the answers!

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timothy-chamlet · 4 years

Text

the afterparty - t.c. fanfic

pair: timmy x female reader

warnings: unprotected sex, general smut

word count: 2.6k (2640)

a//n: ok er ive never written for timmy before so im nervous snsvsj but if you read it tell me what u think !! <3

°•○●○•°

people often thought the two of you were dating. paparazzi tended to make it look that way through press. despite all the candid photos of you and timothée plastered in magazine spreads and floating around on blogs, he would tell people you weren't together. interviewers would ask, and time again he would put an end to the rumor by saying you weren't dating, you were just friends.

to be fair, you honestly couldn't even be mad at him. it was a good marketing tactic, at least. if all the girls knew he was single they'd still be invested in the persona of a young, attractive starlet that - despite his more than desirable qualities - is still single. genius. meanwhile you were being his best friend and his trophy for award shows.

it was growing on you though. you enjoyed walking red carpet events and going to extravagant parties and meeting big names in the industry. it was really a win-win for both of you.

another one of those win-win situations was tonight. the past three days had been crazy. hair appointments, nail appointments, dress fittings, photoshoots, brunches, and dinners. running each new day on an hour of sleep - maybe two if you were lucky. fueled by energy drinks and the promise of rest after the event. showing up to an awards ceremony on nothing more than a 20 minute nap and a double shot espresso. being timothée's showpiece was exhausting. but it was good for you.

you had just finished your last consultation for dress fittings and were on your way to your styling appointment. the dress would arrive shortly after you so everything was ready to go. things were set for timothée to meet you there in an hour or so, after his own styling.

currently you're getting your makeup done. a swarm of professionals all around you, handing products, giving directions, telling you how gorgeous you look, at least three hands on you at all times. after almost an hour all the disembodied hands move from your face to reveal the *almost* finished product. you still need your hair done, but your face was flawless. your skin was insanely smooth; not a pore in sight, your lids were a bronze shade, and your lips were a perfect nude.

a hair stylist soon steps into view, also admiring your makeup before diving into your hair. it was simple. a slicked back ponytail is all, careful not to draw away from your face and your dress.

the strong aroma of hairspray clouds you as you maneuver to step into your dress. stripped of your previous clothes, you step into your dress and a couple people help you pull it up. the woman attending to the supper in the back steps away for a moment, seeming to answer a question.

"what's his name?" she asks into her ear piece. "uh yes. she's in here with me. send him in."

she returns behind you and does up the zipper to your dress. to your surprise, you see timothée waltz in the room. dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light lavender button up underneath. "y/n," he exhales, walking towards you. "you look breathtaking, ma chérie."

"you don't look too bad yourself, timmy," you say, stepping down from your pedestal to be almost eye level with him.

"is she done here?" he asks everyone around without taking his eyes off you.

one of the women there swoops in with a pair of shoes and says, "slip in to these and you're ready to go, darling."

you step into your shoes and link arms with timothée. "carriage awaits," he says as the two of you get escorted to the limo.

once inside you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. "you okay?" he asks from beside you.

"yeah, just.. tired."

he chuckles and drops his head. "absolutely exhausted." you two had similarly scheduled days so he knows exactly how you feel. "don't worry, mon amour, i'll have you home in about 8 hours."

"i thought the awards show was only 4-"

"there's always the afterparty.."

you audibly groan and drop your head as timothée places a reassuring hand on your knee.

"we're here," he says with fake enthusiasm as the limo pulls up to the event. the past 45 minutes felt like hours as your head began to pound from the lack of sleep. yet, lucky you, 45 minutes in l.a. traffic was a miracle.

the two of you step out into the scene. flashing lights from camera flickers, the general buzz of the crowd, people you knew trying to get your attention, people timothée knew trying to get his attention. being the kind person he is, he doesn't shy away from fans calling his name. he walks over to give high fives, say hi, sign things, and really interact with the people that are so invested in his career. you look at him with a fond smile on your face as he greets people.

"timothéeeee," you both hear and turn around to match the loud booming voice to a face.

"armieee!!" he yells in response, hurrying over to hug his co-star.

you stand idly by as the two hug and catch up. fiddling with your ponytail and the skirt of your dress. until that same voice catches your attention.

"bring it in hot stuff!"

"hey, armie! how've you been, handsome?" you two had only met a handful of times, but it's like your souls clicked instantly. he had kept in touch since the first time you met and you guys had been pretty close ever since.

"oh i’m doing great. really. just excited for this evening. can't wait to see how many awards lil' tim brings in," armie ends with a light laugh before timothée chimes in.

"oh god no-"

a cheery voice interrupts the conversation.

"helloooo," armie's wife says in a sing-song voice and joins his side. "nice to see you again, y/n. and congrats timmy on your nominations."

you and timothée nod in response and utter small, nervous 'thank you's' before armie excuses the two of them, promising to catch up later.

"well, well, well- this is it, timmy." you say from your seat next to him. the host reads the nominees for best breakthrough of the year, and timothée's name is mixed in with so many other talented actors. he nervously puts his hand over yours. "you are absolutely amazing. everyone knows that. you're gonna get it." he looks at you and you pass him a reassuring smile.

"and the award for best breakthrough goes to… timothée chalamet!"

his head shoots up in shock. cameras pan around him and his baffled expression appears on huge screens behind the stage. he slowly stands from his seat and makes his way to the stage. making a beautiful speech, thanking almost everyone he's ever known. giving gratitude to everyone he's ever worked with, his parents, and his best friends. he comes off the stage and returns to his seat beside you. a year runs down his cheek, and you move to wipe it away, but he grabs your hand away from his cheek only to press his lips to your knuckles. "thank you for always believing in me."

"you're an amazing actor and an even better friend.

the night was nearing an end. people were saying their goodbyes and their 'see-you-soon's and going their separate ways. you and timothée walk out of the event, arms linked, with his hands tightly gripping his award. the smile never leaves his face. "i can't fucking believe that, y/n."

"you did it, timmy! all you and your hard work. lemme pick a nice spot on your shelf for it yeah?"

"i was thinking about sitting it on my dresser right above the drawer full of your shit you keep leaving at my house," he says with a barely visible smirk.

"oh, well if it's such a problem," you begin "i guess I'll just have to come get my 'shit' then?" you finish sarcastically.

"oh! how dare you?" he begins to shout, going on a tirade similar to that of hamlet; overly dramatic and mostly nonsensical. "leave them be! small, small remnants; reminders of thee." he trails off softly, dropping his head to your shoulder and bringing his other hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of your face.

you can't help but chuckle at this. "bravo timothée! amazing performance."

he straightens up before taking a bow and returning to his previous position on your shoulder. "do you wanna skip the afterparty?"

"and do what, tim? i thought you were gonna catch up with armie?"

"i dunno- go to my place?"

you nod your head, and timothée let's the driver know to just go to his house.

you get out of the car in front of his apartment, quickly thank the driver, and dash inside; excited to remove the day. "can i shower?" you ask quickly already making your way upstairs.

"oui, mon trèsor, make yourself at home. ill be up in a while." it was almost as if he had it scripted. a routine more or less. you'd ask to shower - despite him telling you almost each time you never had to ask - and go up stairs to do so; him trailing along about an hour later behind you.

you finish your shower earlier than planned so you decide to lay on his bed until he comes up. you let your freshly washed body relish in the textures of the cotton t-shirt and shorts you're wearing and the damp-cool feel of the comforter on his bed.

you're not left alone for long before he darts up the stairs and into his room, catching your attention. you watch as he walks around, dropping various articles of his clothing haphazardly on his floor. left in only his boxers.

"timmy?" you ask in a drawn out voice.

"hm?" he asks lowly in response; his eyes trained on you. you don't respond to his muffled question and instead watch as he comes to lean over the foot of the bed, by your legs. "i've been thinking," he continues, "a lot recently. about us.."

"us?-"

"about what the media thinks we are. what the people say. the blog posts, the tweets. i read it all… what do you think about it, y/n?" he ends with a light sigh, making drawing light swirls on your leg.

"i dunno really. i've never thought much about it," you say sitting up.

he moves up from his place in front of the bed, crawling up to sit to the right of your legs. knees drawn up to his chest, eyes meeting yours. he raises his hand so his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek. "you never think about.. the possibility of us?" he pauses as his eyes drift from yours. hands falling to his lap as he scoots even closer to you. you sit stunned, not knowing how to answer as if it was some rhetoric instead of a simple question. filling the silence, he continues. "i think about how different things would be if we were together. what it would be like to hold you and kiss you and- can i kiss you?"

his voice wavers as his eyes meet yours yet again. with quick movements, he moves to straddle your legs, both hands resting lightly on either side of your face.

"can i kiss you?" he asks again, his face millimeters from yours.

you shake your head yes as your eyes fluttering closed, your lips brushing against his as you move.

he plants his lips firmly on yours. innocent at first, but the kiss quickly gets deeper. more desperate, his hands moving from the sides of your face to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back giving him access to your neck. his lips dance around the skin of your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. “is this okay?” he whispers, dragging his hands from your hair to the hem of your shirt.

you nod your head vigorously and he pulls your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the floor with his clothes. you lean back and give timothee free reign of your chest and stomach. he makes his way from your neck down and across your chest. your hands rush to knot in his hair as he takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully flicking his tongue across the hardening bud before doing the same to the other.

"timmy.." you breathe out as he leaves your chest and explores lower. his eyes meet yours as his teeth come into contact with the flimsy waistband of your sleep shorts. "please," you whisper.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs; eyes going wide when he sees you have nothing underneath.

"so pretty," he whispers almost to himself as he throws your shorts in his floor with the rest of your guys' clothes. he runs his finger along your slit, collecting some of your wetness, tasting it. laying back down with your legs over his shoulders, he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. he runs his tongue along your folds and you arch your back in response. he sucks on your clit making you squirm and tangle your fingers tighter in his hair, pushing against his face, eager for more.

"tim-... timmy," you beg.

timothée kisses his way back up your body. "hm?" he hums softly beside your ear only for you to utter another weak 'please' in response.

"please… please what, mon amour?"

"baise moi.." you didn't know much french. you had picked up on a few of timothée's most used phrases, but this you hadn't learned from him, so it caught him off-guard. stuck in a moment of shock. hearing you say something so dirty in french felt so strangely intimate; you didn't have to ask him twice.

he slips his boxers, finally accompanying you in nakedness, and slips into you, moaning at the feeling of you around him.

"fuck.. timmy-" you groan as he picks up his pace. he coos sweet nothings into your ear while drilling into your core.

his head drops to your chest and the soft, sweet praises slowly turn into obscenities. "merde," he groans, picking up his pace even more. holding himself at arms length above you, he throws his head back; lips parted in pure bliss.

you lift one of your hands to trail down timothée's torso. you lazily drag your fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach. the pleasure building inside you, your hand finds its way to your clit. “timmy... fuck! ple- please don’t stop. fuuuuuck!”

“défaire pour moi, y/n.” you didn’t think french could ever drive you to orgasm, but when it came from timothé anything was possible. you convulse around him as your wave of pleasure washes over you. timothée reaching his own peak soon after, pulling out and emptying on your stomach. he quickly finds something to clean you up with before plopping down on the bed beside you. many silent moments pass - nothing but heavy breaths leaving either of you - before he speaks up. “you know,” he begins in a soft whisper, “i felt bad- like i was using you. just to go to events with me. i know you don’t really like them but-”

you cut him off and turn to face him. “i might hate going to those award shows, but they’re a little less bad with you around.”

he breaks into a wide smile and pulls you closer, putting his head on your stomach. "mon amour, je t'ai toujours aimé." you reach down to play with his curls and begin to drift off on your way to sleep.

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tokoyamisstuff · 4 years

Text

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

Taglist:

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#Bucky x Reader #Bucky x You #Bucky/Reader #Bucky/You #BuckyxReader #BuckyxYou #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Barnes #White Wolf #Marvel #Avengers #Self Insert #Chubby! Reader #Fanfiction

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punchdrunkdoc · 4 years

Text

Updated K-drama list (3)

4 more shows DONE and there’s been some changes to the rankings...

FAVOURITES

1. Crash Landing on You

He’s from North Korea. She’s from South Korea. They never should have met, but they’ll change each other’s lives.

This was my first K-drama, and its still my favourite. The full cast of characters is great, the lead romance is ANGSTALICIOUS and its genuinely, laugh out loud funny (when its not making you cry or swoon).

Male lead: Officially the best boyfriend ever. With added dimples.

Tear-jerk factor: 4/5

2. Healer

The lives, and pasts, of a hot shot reporter, a spunky young tabloid journalist and a mysterious thief-for-hire intersect.

This was so addictive - the plot was tight and engaging, and this is one of the few shows I’ve watched where there didn’t seem to be a lot of filler. I loved the central 3 characters, and the romance was amazing. I especially loved that the male lead started off such a brooding loner, but he became super-affectionate as soon as he admitted his feelings. So many good hugs and lots of face-cradling in this one.

Male lead: Effortlessly beats up 2 henchmen while comforting his girl over the phone. What more do you need?

Tear-jerk factor: 1/5

3. Itaewon Class

A young man’s life is forever altered when he runs afoul of a powerful family.

This felt like a big step up in quality from everything else in this list, in terms of the production, soundtrack (which was brilliant), the lack of annoying sound effects, and just the overall ‘real world’ feel of the show. All of the characters were fleshed out and 3-dimensional, and they all had their ‘moment’ to shine. The story itself was gripping and so well done - some of the twists and reveals had me gasping! And what can I say about the 2 leads? I love them, both separately, and together. He is so wise beyond his years, and his journey will break your heart and inspire you. She is borderline sociopathic, but I adore her.

Male lead: Tenacious, principled, kind, innocent, caring, driven, loyal…and he can cook!

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

4. Descendants of the Sun

A special forces Captain meets a capable and beautiful trauma surgeon. They feel an instant bond, but their jobs and philosophy on life get in the way, threatening to tear them apart.

Halfway through this show, I seriously thought this might overtake CLOY as my No. 1 fav. I absolutely LOVE the male lead character, and the romance was beautiful…but it didn’t quite nail the angst and the last minute was a bit twee which dropped it down the rankings a bit.

Male lead: A cocky, charming, absolute BADASS with the most adorable, cheeky smile.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

5. My Holo Love

A lonely woman falls for a holographic AI and then meets his creator...

I love the concept of this show (I’m a big sci-fi nerd), and it was beautifully shot. The lead relationship is well developed and it doesnt fall into a typical love triangle. I’ve come to realise it utilises a lot of K-drama tropes (face-blindness! shared childhood trauma!), but it does it really well, imho.

Male lead: Tortured loner genius. My catnip.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

6. Goblin

A 900yr old immortal guardian finally meets the ‘bride’ who will end his existence

Once I got over the slight ick-factor of the age difference between the two characters at the beginning, I really fell for this show and it’s world. It had me in tears. And I especially loved the secondary character of the Grim Reaper.

Male lead: Surprising innocent and funny for a 900 year old

Tear-Jerk factor: 5/5

7. What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim

An personal assistant decides to quits her job in order to get a life. Her boss has other ideas.

I loved the female lead in this - I’m a sucker for uber-competent people, and the actress is STUNNING. Her boss is self-centred, entitled and vain...but over time, somehow that just becomes endearing! This show also has lots of very good kissing scenes...and when he started to unbutton her shirt during one encounter, I was SCANDALISED (did I mention these shows are usually very PG!!)

Male lead: Like I said, somehow makes vanity and narcissism endearing. Also not afraid to get his shirt off and flash his 6-pack. Bonus.

Tear-Jerk factor: 0/5

8. Legend of the Blue Sea

A mermaid comes onto land to find the man she loves

The (literal) fish-out-of-water scenes in the first half of this show were hilarious - the actress is a comic genius! The romance was nicely done, and there wasn’t a lot of extraneous plot or too many characters. I couldn’t stop watching this one!

Male lead: Cocky, arrogant conman with a soft mushy centre

Tear-Jerk factor: 1/5

9. Fight for my Way

Two life-long friends decide to go after their dreams

I found this during my Park Seo Joon binge and, even though I fast-forwarded large chunks of it (I wasn’t interested in the secondary couple at all), it still made my favourite list because I love the leads - both as separate characters and as a couple. This is one of the best friends-to-lovers stories I’ve seen, mainly because you truly buy that these 2 have known each other their entire lives (their bickering and teasing feels so natural). And then when they take the next step, they’re so affectionate and refreshingly open with their feelings.

Male lead: I love his contradictions. He’s goofy and childish…but can really turn on the sexy charm; he’s a badass MMA fighter…who loves when his girlfriend sticks up for him and protects him.

Tear-jerk factor: 0.5/5

10. Suspicious Partner

A young, hardworking lawyer has her life turned upside down when she is put on trial for murder.

This has been officially bumped up to my favourites list - partly because I’m now a massive Ji Chang Wook fan, and partly because I’ve rewatched scenes with better subtitiles and it made everything10x better. Its still overly long, but the serial killer plot had some nice twists and it was central to the story, so it didn’t feel extraneous like some of these types of plots do. I really enjoyed the central romance - the 2 characters sparked off each other well and I loved their evolution from sort-of enemies to lovers.

Male lead: Its Ji Chang Wook! He’s so good at playing serious guys who are secretly big dorks

Tear-jerk factor: 0.5/5

Notable mentions

These are shows which I completed and enjoyed but they didn’t set my world on fire. Usually because they were overly long, or the plot got in the way of the characters/love story.

1. The K2

An ex-mercenary takes a job as a bodyguard protecting the illegitimate daughter of a politician. A sort-of Snow White retelling.

This started off really well, with some amazing fight sequences (hello, shower room scene!). However, the back half became too bogged down in double crosses and manipulations, and it focussed too much on the politicians. The writers did well to give these characters some layers, but they were all essentially doing bad things for the wrong reasons, and I just didn’t care about them. The show was much better when it was following K2’s journey. The romance also started off well, but was a bit underdeveloped (mainly because they barely interacted).

2. I Am Not a Robot

A man who is allergic to human contact finds companionship with a robot…or does he?

I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it passed a couple of episodes of this - the concept was just too ridiculous. But I’m glad I perservered, because it developed some real depth and some proper good angst towards the end.

3. My Love from the Star

Alien stranded on earth meets an actress soon before he’s due to be rescued.

I finally gave this another chance, and I’m glad I did. The female lead got a LOT less irritating, and I enjoyed the present-day romance and all the flashes back to the past. However, the ending was really abrupt and disappointing (which kept it out of my favourite list). There should have been 1 less filler episode in the middle, and a decent, fleshed out finale instead.

4. Her Private Life

A talented art curator tries to keep her professional persona separate from her fangirl obsession with a pop idol.

This was cute and I loved the central relationship - he was so supportive of her, and their interactions were refreshingly mature and their banter felt really natural. Ultimately, it was a bit forgettable (I’m not dying to rewatch any of it), and the last minute tacked-on childhood trauma subplot was really unnecessary.

5. Strong Girl Bong-Soon

A woman with inherited super-strength gets a job as a bodyguard for an eccentric young CEO

The lead couple in this are AD-OR-ABLE and I loved their relationship. But there was a weird tone issue in this show. The romance is super cute...but there’s a whole dark sub plot involving multiple women being held captive by a psychopath. I ended up fast forwarding most of that, and just concentrated on the romance.

6. Touch Your Heart

Star actress rocked by scandal works at a law firm to prepare for her comeback role

This starred the secondary couple from Goblin and I really like them, even though they are playing very different characters in this (more opposites attract, than doomed lovers). At first I found this too ‘cutesy’, but I’ve since realised the sound effects/graphics are a K-drama thing and not unique to this show, so I’m not as down on it as I was. I still had to fast forward a lot of the secondary romances which I wasn’t invested in.

The others…

1. Hyde, Jekyll and Me

A woman becomes involved in the lives of 2 men, who share one body

This stars Hyun Bin from CLOY and he is sooo watchable, especially as the slick-haired, glasses-wearing, uptight Seo-Jin. And the show started well...but quickly went off the rails into a convoluted, dragged-out revenge plot.

2. Melting Me Softly

Two people are accidentally cryogenically frozen for 20 years. They have to navigate the modern world and their new lives together.

Another good concept, but it ultimately descended into little more than a light work-place romance. Had a couple of good kissing scenes, but it was overall a bit forgettable.

And the DNF:

My Secret Romance

I started watching this because I was looking for something a little less PG - the characters have a one night stand in the first episode! But I couldn’t get passed the bad acting and cheap production.

Master’s Sun

I liked the premise but the 2 leads weren’t very attractive (at least in comparison to the insanely beautiful actors/actresses in the shows listed above). Call me superficial, but I couldn’t see myself spending 17 hours watching them and willing them to kiss.

#kdrama #cloy #healer #descendants of the sun #itaewon class #suspicious partner #legend of the blue sea #fight for my way #what's wrong with secretary kim #melting me softly #hyde jekyll me #touch your heart #her private life #strong girl bong soon #i am not a rob #my love from the star

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britishboystm · 4 years

Text

For You- Matt *Blinded By The Light (SMUT)

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Ngl there is a bit of cliche cringe in here so beware👀, super fucking long wtf

A/N: Ok, ok. This one is hella long. Thanks to @blueeyedheizer for the inspo, hope you like it love:)

—-

“I’m telling you Y/N, he speaks to our generation. People like us who want to get out of Luton and see the world!”

“That’s great Javed.” The conversation that was happening while you and Javed walked home from college was less than exciting to you. He seemed super invested however, so you tried your best to let him rave about his new found obsession with Bruce Springsteen, some bloke from America that your dad listens to when fixing the car in the garage. You were more of a Cyndi Lauper and Madonna type.

You felt quite bad for Javed. No one really gave the poor lad the time of day. Not his dad, not the people at the college and most definitely not the community you guys lived in so you were his go to person. You had always been his confidant since you were kids.

Then there was Matt. The third of the trio. He took care of Javed. He was Javed’s protector against bullies in school. He himself was an eccentric personality. Very different from you and Javed. He loved girls, parties and synths. Once school was done, he had no desire to continue through to college. He was out of there.

But he finished the friendship puzzle and you relied on him as much as Javed did and vice versa.

It seemed like hours of him rambling and you tuning him out until you finally reached your neighbourhood. You, Javed and Matt all lived in the same cul de sac. It was where the three of you became best friends, then you were all enrolled into the same primary school down the road not long after. You guys became inseparable after that.

Everything was quite pleasant until you caught a glimpse of Matt. There he was, standing in all of his glory, sucking face with his latest fling, one you had not met yet. The image made your stomach churn and Javed noticed right away.

“Y/N, I really think you should tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Your eyes were glued to the car crash happening in front of you. See, you had developed feelings for Matt back in grade school, keeping it a secret to this day. The only person who knew was Javed.

He sighed and patted your back before walking towards the two love birds. The kissing was finally coming to an end and Matt pried himself off of her to notice the two of you.

“Javed, Y/N you muppets! ” His play thing grabbed onto his arm while he met you two half way.

“Hey Matt, how was Ibiza?” Javed asks reluctantly. Matt chuckles slightly, looking over proudly at his new arm candy. A look you had longed to receive from him one day.

“Met Emma over there, she lives nearby actually. It worked out brilliantly.”

You pretend to look happy.

“That sounds amazing Matt. Um, actually I’m going to have to run. My mum needs me home for dinner soon.”

“Leaving so soon?” Matt asked, soundly legitimately disappointed.

“I’ve been gone for weeks and this is all I get from you?” He pries a little further.

“Well some people actually have lives out of shagging girls and playing bar gigs so yeah I’ve got to go.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh but seeing this Emma girl had your blood boiling. She seemed lovely and deserved no harsh feelings so you felt it best to walk away from the situation which would probably just get out of hand.

“Y/N what’s all this about?” Matt says, hurt evident in his eyes. You sighed deeply trying to contain yourself.

“Nothing, sorry. I’m just super knackered. I’ll catch up with you guys later okay?” You didn’t wait for a response, hoisting yourself on your bike that you had walked home and rolled over to your front door, not as much as a look back and wave.

You were hoping that the day would come when Matt would bring home a girl and it didn’t bother you. But it was just getting worse. After closing the front door, you leaned against it trying to calm yourself before running up to your room to wallow alone.

---

Later that night you laid awake staring at your ceiling. The events from the afternoon had you in a frenzy. He really shouldn’t be affecting you like this, and yet here you were lying awake at the wee hours of the morning. It also didn’t help that there was light streaming into your bedroom window from Matt’s room.

You guys lived right next door to one another and your room windows faced each other, so most nights you would stay up and talk for hours on end from the windows edge.

You stood up, groaning. It was probably the same situation you had faced so many times before. Because Matt was in a band, there were many nights where he would leave his desk lamp on to work on melodies and lyrics. The light would keep you up, which you absolutely hated but you would never say anything.

Music was his life and you weren’t going to be the one to get in the way of that. With all the anger you were feeling though, tonight seemed easier to call him out on his bullshit. You approached your window and stood in front of it. But nothing could prepare you for what you would just witness. Straight ahead, stood Matt and Emma in very little clothing. Him in nothing but boxers and her in a matching set of red lace undies and bra. His hands were roaming her waist and landed on her perfect butt.

You couldn't help but feel self conscious. She had such a bangin body, nothing you thought you could compare too. Without hesitation you shut your blinds, not wanting to subject yourself to that anymore. You shakily laid back in bed and just started sobbing. The image of his lips attached to her neck as he loved every inch of her body made you weep. It had probably been all of the pent up emotions you were feeling. This was your first ever heart break.

---

“Y/N! You need to eat before you head to work.” You tossed the sheets off of your body and huffed. The last thing you needed was a long shift at the mall jewelry store. The required outfit all employees had to wear laid in a heap in the corner of your room which you trudged over to and put on.Once you were ready you headed downstairs where your mom was organizing breakfast and your younger brother devoured his cereal.

“Matt dropped by not that long ago.”

“Oh yeah? What did he want?” You focused on pouring a cup of coffee for yourself while asking.

“Don’t know. Just said he needed to talk to you.” You turned around to look at your mom and sighed.

“I’m actually not really speaking to him at the moment.” Taking a sip of your liquid energy.

“Why? What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to be late so I’ll see ya” You grabbed an apple and gave your mom a kiss on the cheek before running out the door

“Bye love!” You were already gone.

Your trusty bike always stayed locked up at the side of the house so you walked over to go grab it before heading to work.

“Y/N!”

Oh god. Whatever was about to happen, you weren’t in the mood. You turned around to see Matt running down his front yard in nothing but an open button up and pants.

She probably stayed the night, you thought.

You gripped onto your bike harder. Hopefully this won’t take long.

“Y/N, wait I have to talk to you.” He tried to catch his breath.

“What Matt?” Your tone was pointed.

“What’s going on with ya? You were acting all strange yesterday. Did I do something?” He stood there defeated. He had no clue what he had done to piss off the most important girl in his life. His best friend.

You groaned and threw your head back.

“Nothing really. I’m sorry I was being a bitch yesterday but I’ve just been under a lot of stress with school.”

Lies. You were at the top of all your classes.

“So are we good?” He asks, eyes hopeful.

“Always Matt.” You gave a smile. But the hurt was still there. His face lights up and he embraces you into a tight hug.

“Ugh Matt, you need to shower mate. You smell like sweat and regret.”

“Aww, you love it. Don’t pretend my manly musk doesn’t turn you on.” He gives you a wink. He of course was playing around. Why wouldn’t he be? You were his best friend. You couldn’t help but have your breath catch in your throat when he winked at you though.

You pretended to be amused.

“Hah hah Matt, very charming. Anyways I’m off to work so…” The laughs being overly sarcastic.

“Oh actually I wanted to ask you one more thing.” You couldn’t help but feel an excitement bubble in your stomach.

“Yeah?” You ask, eyes sparkling

“I need your help with Javed’s birthday.” Tonight Matt was going to throw a surprise party for Javed.

“Oh.” You were slightly disappointed. You didn’t know what you wanted him to say but it definitely wasn’t that.

“You know how I always want him to come to my parties but it’s impossible to get him there?”

“Yeah?”

“Well his parents trust you more than me by a long shot so I need you to pick him up and tell them your taking him to the library or some stupid shit like that.”

“Javed doesn’t know right?” You ask.

“Yeah, and it has to stay that way okay? Alright thanks love. I appreciate it.”

He comes in for one more hug and a kiss on the head.

“No worries Matt. See you tonight.”

He waves and starts walking back towards his house. Emma is waiting in nothing but one of his shirts (your favourite shirt of his nonetheless) in the doorway, watching the exchange go down.

You sigh and mount your bike, heading to work.

—-

That night you dressed up a tad bit. Of course it would raise suspicion if you showed up to Javed’s front door with what you had on so you snuck into your parents room and grabbed one of your dad’s old trench coats.

You let out a nervous puff of air as you sneaked past the living room where your mom was passed out in front of the tv. East Enders playing loudly on the screen. Your 5 year old brother laid on top of her asleep as well. It was pretty cute but there was no time to waste so you quietly snuck out.

The air was slightly nippy from the April weather. But you knew Javed’s house was just across the road so you didn’t mind.

You knocked on the door, hoping Javed would answer so it would be a quick exchange before getting him out of the house but alas, his father answered.

Shit, new plan.

“Hi Mr Khan. Is Javed around?”

“Why?” Uhhhhhh.

“We planned on going to the library to study.”

“Where are your books?” Fuck.

“I just got off work so I still need to drop by my house first.” Nice save Y/N.

He looked at you suspiciously then called out for Javed.

“Javed, your pretty friend is here.” You couldn’t help but giggle but it was cut short when Javed came down the stairs.

“Dad I told you this morning. Y/N and I are going to the library to study.” He had no clue what he was in for.

“Right well you two be good and get your work done.” He wagged a fatherly finger at you both and you nodded. As much as Javed and his dad has their problems, you could tell he wanted what was best for his son. Javed waved goodbye as the door shut behind him. Three heavy textbooks in his arms

“Where are your books Y/N? And what’s with the coat?”

“Oh Javed. You're so smart and yet so naive. Drop the books.” He gives you a confused look and you smirk, putting a sleeping mask over his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He seemed a little panicked as you grabbed the books from him and placed them behind the bush beside the stairs.

“Just relax.” You chuckle leading him away from the house.

He kept his hands out in front of him, trying to get used to the fact that he couldn’t see. It didn’t take long to approach Matt’s. You knew a bunch of people were already inside hiding, trying to stay quiet but failing miserably, probably already pissed drunk. You opened the door and Javed called out towards you. “Y/N? Where are we? Can I take this thing off?” You gently removed it from his eyes, darkness still filling the room. You quickly turned the light switch on and everyone came jumping out from different objects and doorways.

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled.

Javed jumped back a little in your arms. The celebration didn’t last long though because after they did what they were instructed to do, they all went back to playing loud music and talking. Most of the people here didn’t even know Javed, but they did know free booze.

“Happy Birthday mate!” Matt approached, slightly tipsy with a drink in his hand.

“Matt, what is all this?” Javed seemed a little upset.

“It’s your surprise party. I thought you would like it.”

“Is it hot in here?” Javed interrupts.

It seemed as though everything was too overwhelming for him. The smell of weed and beer was heavy and his mind was getting clouded. This was definitely not his scene.

“Shit. Hey, Javed, why don’t we go upstairs for a bit yeah?” You grabbed his arm knowing how to calm him down. Matt looked at you with a sorry look in his eyes.

“It’s okay Matt. Just give us a minute.” You said before pushing Javed upstairs. Matt quickly grabbed your wrist, his eyes looking deep into yours. They were soft and sincere. He felt awful.

“You going to be okay?” You smile and nod. Out of nowhere Emma shows up, super drunk. She wraps herself around Matt.

“Hey babe? Want to go somewhere a bit more private?” She giggled and nibbled at his ear. He gave you one last look.

You nodded telling him to go have fun. She giggles again and grabs his face, going straight in for a make out. Matt now seemed a tad bit preoccupied. You turned around trying to block it out, while also trying to get Javed into a quieter space. You open a couple doors, either people making out in them or drunkenly crying about their ex. You huffed and finally opened the door to Matt’s dad's office. Empty since it was off limits but for you and Javed there was an exception.

Javed let out a big sigh and you rested your head against the wall as you both sat on the carpeted floor.

“You know Matt did all of this for you. He may have missed the mark but it’s his way of showing that he cares.”

Javed looks over and nods.

“No I know, I just get worried about what would happen if I ever got caught up in that type of crowd. What my parents would think.”

“I understand.” You reply. It’s silent for a moment.

“Oh wait. I totally forgot. Happy Birthday mate.” You pull out a couple wrapped gifts from the pocket of the trench coat you had just taken off, handing them off to Javed.

He gives you a wide smile and rips open the wrapping paper to reveal a couple of Bruce Springsteen cassettes.

Writing on the front of one of the cassette said,

To J,

The biggest boss I know

Love, Y/N

He chuckles lightly before awkwardly crawling towards you and giving you a hug.

“I love it Y/N, thank you.” You smile and ruffle his hair.

“No problem at all. I’m always here for you, J you know that.”

“I know. Same here.” He smiles.

Silence filled the room, nothing but Matt’s weird music causing the walls to shake.

“So is tonight the night you are going to tell him?”

You groan and bring your knees into your chest, resting your head between them.

Not this again.

“Javed!” You whine. You really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. It was his party for christ sakes.

You should be celebrating, not venting. And besides, it would be highly inappropriate since he has a girlfriend.

“I know you hate it when I pry but I’m going to be honest with you.” You look up at Javed waiting for him to continue.

“It’s kind of annoying watching you pine over him from afar. I’ve been subjected to it for years. It’s my birthday I think you owe me one.”

You scoff.

“You’re something else you know that?”

He shrugs and smirks.

“You have been head over heels since year 7. Don’t you think you deserve that closure?” You sigh and close your eyes, leaning your head against the wall again.

“I ju-, We are such different people. Yes I may be madly in love with him but… I don’t know. His type is for sure not me. I’ll just have to get used to the fact that he will never feel the same way that I do.”

Tears threaten to spill and Javed is quick to come over and comfort you.

“It’s okay. You never know unless you try.”

“But what if it ruins our friendship. He means too much to me to jeopardize that.”

“I don’t know what to say to you Y/N.”

You sigh and wipe your tears suddenly feeling parched.

“I’ll be right back, just going to go grab a drink. You want anything?”

“I’m good.” His voice laced with sympathy.

You nod and get up, a little wobbly but you find your footing. You turn the nob and open the door only to walk right into someone.

Your eyes meet their chest but you already know who it is. Your eyes slowly look up to meet Matt’s.

He looks as though he has just seen a ghost. You're frozen in place, wondering if it’s worth fleeing or retreating back into the dark office space.

“I was coming to check on you guys. Is it true that you have feelings for me?” He asks suddenly, his face still in shock.

“Are you in love with me?” You bow your head in shame, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“It’s okay Matt just forget it.” You slip past him and start walking away. You wanted to get the hell out of there but you couldn’t leave Javed alone so instead you keep your word and go find the drinks.

Matt follows you down the stairs and over to the kitchen where you were pretending to be busy finding a drink, your mind actually racing after what had just happened.

“Y/N.” He says beside you. You ignore him. He lightly grabs your face so you have no choice but to look into his blue eyes.

“Talk to me.” You push his hand away.

“There’s nothing to talk about Matt.”

He sighs and grabs your hand, pulling you away from the alcohol and into a quiet corner.

“We can’t just pretend I didn’t hear what you said up there. Y/N, do you have feelings for me? Be honest.”

“I might have some feelings for you.” He sighs and rubs his eyes in aggravation.

“I can’t believe you're making me do this.” You frown in confusion.

“Make you do what?” He doesn’t respond but instead walks away from you. Your heart shatters a bit, knowing deep down he wasn’t going to reciprocate and that you would ruin the friendship.

You can’t help but follow him and try to patch up whatever damage you had just caused. But you are stopped in your tracks. You see Emma and Matt talking. She looks upset and suddenly she slaps him across the face, leaving the party in a state. You flinched at the sound but run over to him.

“Matt what did you just do.”

“Was it not obvious?” He looked a little aggravated.

“What are you talking about.” Now you were getting annoyed. He wasn’t being clear with you. The same way you hadn’t been clear with him since year 7.

Once again he grabs your hand and pulls you upstairs. You thought that you guys would go back to the office but he enters the door beside it. His bedroom.

“Matt you're freaking me ou-“ He pushes you against his bedroom door and presses his lips against yours. Your eyes open wide and before it can go any further you push him off of you.

“Bloody hell Matt. You have a girlfriend!” You yell at him as he breathes heavily.

“What do you think I was doing down there? I was breaking up with her… for you.” You laugh in astonishment.

“You broke up with your girlfriend because I said I had feelings for you? Have you gone mad?”

“You don’t understand Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since we first met. I always thought you were beautiful, smart, funny, fun…. Look I may not have realized it then because I was 6 but still, once I understood what love meant I knew I had always loved you. Every girl I have been with has been a distraction to get over you. Now that I know you feel the same way, I’m all yours.”

You looked at him like he was a crazy person.

“You’re fucking insane.” You scoff.

“Insane about you.” You laugh again.

“Oh wow, you find that one on a bubblegum wrapper?” That line was probably the most cringey thing you have ever heard.

He smiles widely. He had always loved to see you laugh. It brightened his day.

“Y/N I’m serious.” He slowly walks back towards you and lightly pushes you back against his door. His left hand leaning against it beside your head.

Your breathing becomes very prominent as he leans down to leave a kiss on your neck.

“Tell me you love me.” He mumbles into your skin. You can’t help but release a small moan.

“Tell me you love me Y/N.” He sounded a bit desperate and honestly you were just as desperate as he was.

“I love you.” You respond in a breathy tone. He groans in pleasure and the kisses along your neck become deeper and they begin moving to different parts of your face. Soon your lips catch his and he holds your face in his hands while he slips his tongue down your throat.

“I’m so sorry it took this long.”

“Me too.” You gasp as he places his hand over your heat.

“Do you want to do this?” He let’s go and stops everything, looking into your eyes.

“Because I am okay with waiting.” He says, his face all blissed out.

You’ve been pent up for too long for this not to happen so you grab his hand and put it back where it was originally.

“I want you to fuck me Matthew.” His dick twitched in his pants when you said that. You had only ever said his full first name when you were really pissed at him. Now it had a whole new meaning. He liked it.

“Oh baby.” He smirks hoisting you up and swiping all of his lyrics off his desk and placing you down on top of it. You couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesiness as you held onto his neck. It felt like a stupid rom-com. But you didn’t care because you were with him. You kick your white heeled boots off, hating how they squeezed your feet anyways.

He began attacking your neck while between your legs, leaning you back slightly. You shifted your head to give him better access. You couldn’t help but stare out his window, looking into your room.

You were now one of his girls. So many times had there been glances into his bedroom, a new girl wrapped around him.

Jealousy always took over you. But now knowing he only did it because he couldn’t have you turned you on. You smirk slightly as he begins to remove your jean jacket.

“Maybe we should move this over to the bed.” You whisper in his ear. He nods and leaves you, the cold in the room making you shiver. He goes and jumps on his bed, excited like a little kid on Christmas. Trying to spice things up, you walk over to his record player and begin looking through his music library.

“Y/N!” He whines. He’s already taking down his pants and boxers, getting ready for you. You purposely take your time and evilly smirk at him while he begins to pleasure himself, waiting.

“I’m just finding some music.” You simply state trying not to drool over him stroking himself. You finally find a Led Zeppelin record that probably belonged to his dad and place it on the record player.

He groans and throws his head back on the pillow as he speeds up his movements. You crawl over to him, the music playing softly, his other music downstairs overpowering it.

He is quick to grab and pin you down onto his bed. Your arms held in place above your head

“You are so beautiful.” You smile and lift your head slightly to give him a kiss. He shifts a bit down your body and gives you a look, asking for permission. You nod so he starts to gently pull down the straps of your dress, then pulling the top down exposing your bra. It wasn’t as nice as Emma’s but it was uniquely you. A light purple with butterflies. He smiled down at you.

“So beautiful.” He starts to trickle kisses down your neck, then the exposed part of your breasts.

“Just take the bloody thing off Matt.”

“My pleasure.” He smirks. You arch your back slightly so he can work the clasp. It comes off after a couple of attempts and he throws the material to the side. You lay there complety bare from the waist up.

He bites his lip before dipping his head down and taking a nipple into his mouth. You close your eyes in pleasure, tingles moving down your back as you grip his hair.

“Feels so good.” You sputter out as he continues to suck on your chest. Some hickeys included. His tongue swirls around your nipple making you even more sensitive, a build up occurring in your lower stomach.

He lifts his head up and kisses you before pushing himself further down your body, gripping the sides of your dress and pulling it off of you completely, chucking it beside your bra.

His hands graze over your Saturday undies and he’s about to pull them down. You stop him however, bringing him back up so he’s face to face with you.

“Matt. Do you mean everything you are saying? I don’t want to be another number to your body count. This is real to me.” He smiled softly and lays beside you, giving you a peck on the lips.

“I’m serious about this Y/N.” You sigh and look up at the ceiling, in nothing but your underwear. All the times you had laid on his bed while doing homework over the years, you never thought you would end up like this. You weren’t complaining though.

“Let me take over for a bit yeah?” You say looking over at Matt. He smirks and kisses you once more before you jump up and straddle his waist, helping him take off his blue button up, leaving him stark naked other than his bracelets which you always secretly loved.

You lean down and plant kisses on his lips. Then you moved down to his neck, sucking bright purple hickies into his skin. You had a pattern going. Your lips continued down further his body. His chest, stomach that you always have adored when you guys went swimming throughout your school years. You made your way down to his pubic bone ready to take his dick into your mouth.

“Please love, stop teasing and put it in your mouth.” He almost looked like he was in pain. The back of his hand laid on his forehead while he winced, eyes tightly shut and lips pressed into a thin line.

“My pleasure.” You say softly, lightly gripping his throbbing member into your hand.

You slowly began stroking it. A tight enough grip where every once in a while you grazed your thumb over the tip, his thighs clenching every time you did so. You kept a mental note of that.

“Holy fuck! ” He cried out.

You kept going for a bit, pre cum leaking from the head.

Taking this as a signal you wrapped your lips around the tip and licked a couple swirls clockwise.

Matt wasn’t having it though because his hand shot up and gripped your hair, lightly pushing you deeper down his shaft. Surprised you choked a bit, which he caught right away and lifted you up.

“You okay?” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You smiled and nodded.

“I’m fine, just surprised is all.” He sighs in relief, and lays back down, an arm going under his head.

“Sorry I shouldn’t have forced you.”

“I don’t feel forced love” you reply, adoring the sound of calling him love.

Instead of going back to sucking him off you decide to just go for it.

“Um Matt. You have a condom on you?” He shoots up and leans over to his bedside table, you still in his lap.

“I can’t believe we are doing this.” He says all giddy. You snort and wait for him to get the piece of rubber on his member.

It takes him a second but once he does it he flips you over so you are under him. He helps your shimmy out of your underwear then he brings you into a kiss while he uses his other hand to line himself up with your centre. Once he finds it he slowly enters, a guttural moan leaves his lips. Once he is fully inside you, he leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily through his nose. A tear slips out from your eye from how tight you are and he notices, wiping it away.

“I’ll move in a second. There is no rush.” You nod, silently thanking him for waiting. Once your body is accustomed to his length you give him a tap and he slowly starts coming out. He then enters again, a steady speed developing. You whimper and let out heavy breaths as he slowly pounds into you.

“Go faster. For fuck sake Matt, go faster.” He speeds up leaving your eyes to roll in the back of your head. It felt so right having him inside of you. You were in pure bliss.

Sweat starts forming on his forehead and his tongue sticks out slightly as he pounds into you relentlessly. You weren’t totally there yet so you let him circle your clit with his index and middle finger helping you build up faster. Once you got there you cried out,

“I’m gonna fucking cum Matt!”

“Look down love.”

You followed his orders and watched as his length moved in and out from your dripping core. That was enough to finish you so you nodded.

“Yup I’m there, I’m there. Cum with me baby.” You try to coherently say. He starts to twitch inside of you and you both let out loud moans of release.

He cums into the condom and crashes onto your chest, still inside of you.

The record had stopped but music from downstairs and yelling could still be heard from all corners of the house.

Inside the room was all pants and heavy breathing,

“That. Was. Fucking. Amazing.” He breathed out while you rubbed his back and played with his hair.

I love you Y/N.” He mumbled into your breasts. You laugh slightly at his childishness.

“I love you too bub.”

“We should have done that so much sooner.” He lifts his head up from your bare chest to say.

“What does this mean for us?” you ask, a slight worry in your voice.

“I want nothing more than to be with you Y/N. I would do anything for you.”

You smile, pushing his head back into your chest. He starts to lull off, listening to your heartbeat and breathing.

“Oh my god Javed!” You were brought out of your dreamland, remembering your best friend you left in that room about half an hour ago.

Matt’s eyes went wide and you both shot up from the bed and began to get dressed. Hopefully he was okay and wasn’t in a corner crying.

Once you were both somewhat collected, other then Matt’s badly done buttoning job of his shirt and both or your disheveled hair, you ran out.

You open the office door beside Matt’s room. He wasn’t in there.

“Shit.” You mutter, running downstairs. Matt close behind you. The party on the main floor stayed alive and well, even with the host's absence.

You look around and notice a group laughing in the living room. You walk in to see Javed, holding a blunt telling a funny story to a group of very interested people. He was the life of the party.

“Matt come here, you won’t believe this!” You call out to your now boyfriend.

He joins you and looks at Javed all surprised.

“J?” He asks. Javed stops his fascinating story and walks over to the two of you.

“Hey guys. I’m sorry for earlier. I’m having a great time. Really thank you for the party Matt.”

“No problem J.” Matt looked dumbfound.

“I’m sorry I left you in the office J, I got caught up.” You try to explain yourself. Javed smirks at the likes of the two of you.

“No worries and by the way thank you for the birthday present. “ You look at him confused.

“Now I don’t have to listen to you whine about Matt anymore. Same with you mate.” Your eyes went wide.

“Wait what? You knew all along Matt liked me back and never said anything.” He shrugs

“It was never my place. Anyways, next time just remember that the walls are thin in this place.” He winks before walking off, starting to talk to some girl from college.

You and Matt stand there dumbfounded.

#dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman #dean charles chaoman imagines #matt blinded by the light #blinded by the light #fanfiction #fanfic

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

Text

Boston Boys [Part Seventeen]

Summary: After being visited by detectives, Elsa asks for some truth from Aurelie. Chris gets unsolicited advice from John, prompting him to make a hard decision. Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 2370 Chapter Warnings: Discussion of criminal activity, language, pregnancy, angst. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)

Three more parts after this. You’ve been warned.

Boston Boys Masterlist

The next morning, Elsa’s temples were throbbing. That one glass of wine had turned into a bottle and a half, plus a lot of crying. She forced herself out of bed and through a steamy, somewhat refreshing shower, then went to the medicine cabinet for some ibuprofen while the hot water brewed for her morning tea.

She was contemplating some toast when the tea and medicine seemed to help her hangover, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. The detectives who had questioned her in the hospital after the bank robbery were standing at her apartment door. Elsa pulled her robe tighter around her and welcomed them inside.

“I’m sorry for my appearance, I’ve only been up for a little while, and I wasn’t expecting company.” She told them to make themselves comfortable, then went to her room to grab her phone off the charger. “Although, I see now that you called to tell me you’d be by. I’m sorry I missed that.”

“No apology necessary, Ms. Chapman,” Detective Mullins assured. “We don’t mean to intrude, but we have some leads in the investigation.”

“Really? It’s been a while since I heard anything, I assumed it was lost in the files or something.”

Detective Rose gave her a kind smile. “We try not to let these cases go if we don’t absolutely have to. As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was another significant bank hit recently.”

Elsa nodded, remembered the surveillance video on the news and the panic attack the images had induced. “I saw the report.”

“We at first thought that one or the other robbery had been a copycat of others which have taken place -- after all, your case is the only instance in which a hostage has been taken,” Detective Mullins explained. “But our forensics team has been analyzing a lot of evidence, and it seems that the same crew hit both banks. We have some suspects we’d like you to look at.”

“I don’t understand,” Elsa frowned. “I told you, they had masks on. I couldn’t see an inch of skin.”

The detectives encouraged her to take a look anyway. They placed four pictures in front of her -- four pictures of faces that were all too familiar. One in particular. Her face must have read shock because Detective Mullins was asking if she was all right.

Elsa swallowed and pointed to the picture of Chris. “I don’t recognize any of them for the robbery, but I’ve been dating this man for several months. We ran into each other at the grocery store and he -- I was crying, having a weak moment after the robbery. He was nice to me.”

Detective Rose jotted something down on a small notepad. “The Evans family has a longstanding history with the Boston legal system. Do you know about Chris’s father?”

Her throat was too dry to speak, so she nodded. She couldn’t tear her eyes from Chris’s mugshot.

“We believe that Chris took over for his father after Robbie Evans went to jail -- not only the barber shop, but the family crime business, as well. Between forensics and piecing some other things together, Ms. Chapman, we believe that Chris Evans and his crew are responsible for the robbery at your bank, the most recent hit, and several others throughout the city.”

The detectives seemed so sure, Elsa felt sick to her stomach. She dismissed it as nerves on top of the wine she’d had the night before, but less than a minute later, she was heaving into the kitchen sink. The men sat by, awkwardly waiting for her to compose herself.

“What do you need from me?” she asked, quietly.

They rose from the table; Mullins answered her. “Right now, only your willingness to cooperate, if and when necessary. We’ll keep you up to date as much as possible. I understand you have family in New York?”

Elsa nodded.

Detective Rose pressed his lips into a thin line. “For the time being, we need you in the state -- in the city, if possible. If you feel the need to leave for any reason, if you could let us know, we would appreciate it. For your own safety.”

Elsa nodded again and showed them to the door. Detective Mullins’s business card was still stuck under a magnet on her refrigerator, so she had their contact information if she needed it.

What she needed right now were answers. Honest, clear answers. She didn’t trust Chris to answer her, let alone tell her the truth, and she didn’t know the rest of his friends well enough to contact any of them. There had to be someone she could contact, someone close to Chris who would tell her what in the hell was really going on.

“Aurelie,” Elsa said out loud, going back to the table for her phone.

The diner in Attleboro seemed busier than normal for this time of morning. Maybe it was, maybe Aurelie only felt that way because she had been hoping for some semblance of privacy. She ordered a cup of coffee and sipped at it, waiting patiently until Elsa came through the door.

“Elsa,” she called, waving.

The blonde woman gave a small wave in return. She stopped at the counter to order a tea and some toast, then dropped to the bench across from Aurelie. “Morning. Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure. Thanks for coming out here, especially at this hour.” Aurelie sipped her coffee.

Elsa nodded, thanking the waitress for her order. She sipped her tea and took a bite of toast. “I don’t mean to put you in the middle of any drama. I want to be very clear about that, up front. I know you have -- you have a lot going on, on your own.”

Aurelie pursed her lips. “Chris told you about the baby.”

“He did. Congratulations, by the way. I know Chris is struggling with it, but I do hope you’re happy.”

“Thank you,” Aurelie replied, giving a small smile. “Speaking of Chris, that’s what you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes,” Elsa said, sipping down more tea and taking another bite of toast. She wasn’t really hungry, but it gave her a chance to gather her thoughts. “The police came to my house last night. They were asking about the people who robbed the bank -- the ones who kidnapped me.”

Aurelie frowned. “Did they find them?”

“They think maybe they did.” Elsa took another sip of tea. “They showed me pictures, even though I didn’t think I would recognize anyone.”

She stopped to gauge Aurelie’s reaction. That woman was still sipping her coffee, looking concerned, but not overly so. Elsa continued.

“The pictures they showed me were of Chris, Scott, Seb, and Scarlett. They’ve got some kind of forensic evidence from the most recent hit, they think that it’s them.”

Rolling her eyes, Aurelie pushed her coffee mug to the side. “Elsa, you’re getting caught in the middle of some bad shit. Chris’s dad is in prison -- I know you know about that. He was in some deep stuff, but Chris isn’t. Seb, Scotty, Scar -- none of them are involved with any of it. When Robbie went to prison, Chris went legitimate, with everything. It’s the barber shop, smart investments. My brother is a good businessman. He’s a good man.”

“I don’t understand. Then why are they trying to pin this on them?”

“Those hits were big hits. They can’t let them go unsolved. Chris and them are an easy pin, because of the bad choices Robbie made. His fucking mistakes are going to haunt our family the rest of forever.” The waitress came and dropped the checks on the table; Aurelie took both of them and laid out a few bills. “Chris loves you, Elsa, and from what I can tell, I think you love him, too. Loving my brother, dating him -- it unfortunately comes with some baggage.”

Elsa took a deep breath as she processed everything Aurelie was saying. It all made sense, except for one thing. “If Chris and the others are legitimate, why do you distance yourself?”

“For their sake,” Aurelie answered, without missing a beat. “I started losing my hearing when I was fairly young, and it went slowly. For a while, hearing aids did the trick. My right ear isn’t the worst, if I can look at the person and they’re speaking clearly and looking at me. The left one was always worse than the right. Sometime in middle school, I mouthed off to Robbie, and he popped me on the side of the head. I deserved it, but my left ear dropped out almost completely after that. A year or so later, I got the cochlear. Robbie always blamed himself for that, but it wasn’t his fault. His daughters think that when everything went down, I turned Robbie in out of spite or revenge. They stopped talking to me, my mother stopped speaking to me. Scotty was always on the fence. So, for their sake, to make things easier, I stayed away. I stay away.”

Elsa nodded and finished her tea. It made sense. It all made sense. It was nothing she ever wanted to be a part of, but here she was. She loved Chris. He had stood her up, but that was something she hoped they could work through.

“I’ve got to get home and get some sleep,” Aurelie sighed, pushing out of the booth. “Give Chris the benefit of the doubt, Elsa. He deserves it.”

Elsa nodded and waved as Aurelie pulled on a jacket and left the diner. She finished her toast, had another cup of tea, and then went home to get some rest. She thought about calling Chris, but decided to wait it out. He would talk to her when he was ready, she hoped.

After a long night of no sleep, Chris was finally heading home. He had let Scotty know that he and Seb weren’t going to be in until the afternoon, so at least he could catch a few hours of sleep before he needed to go to the shop.

He stopped at the corner store for a small coffee, just to keep him from sleeping all day. When he spotted John Krasinski already at the coffee station, he sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit this morning.

“Morning,” John greeted.

“Morning,” Chris returned, selecting a cup from the stack and choosing his brew. He pushed the button on the machine to fill the cup, waiting for John to say something else. But, the other man said nothing, only finished doctoring his own coffee and went to the register to pay.

Chris frowned. He wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation, but he had expected more than a one-word greeting to be exchanged between the two of them. He secured the lid on his coffee, paid, and hurried out of the corner store.

“John!” he called to the other man, jogging to catch up with him down the sidewalk. The other man stopped and turned but didn’t look any more keen on the idea of speaking to Chris than Chris had been to speak with John only a few minutes ago. “Hey, have you talked to Aurelie?”

“Oh, you mean since you crashed her whole world last night?” John snorted. “Yeah. She’s -- she’s not fine, but she’s safe. How could you keep that from her? Do you have any idea how much she trusted you?”

Chris licked his lips and let out a deep breath. “I know. I know she did, and I know we may never get that back. I’m stuck, man. I don’t know what’s going on in my life and now all this shit is coming to light. I don’t want Aurelie to get caught in the middle of me working my shit out.”

John shook his head and scoffed. “It’s too late for that. Don’t you get it? She got caught in the middle of your shit the moment you decided to lie for your father about how her father died. She’s your sister, Chris. Blood, step, whatever. She looks at you as her brother -- her only brother. Her mother won’t even talk to her, but she always had you. Now she doesn’t even have that.”

Shaking his head, Chris held both hands up before letting his free hand slap back down against his leg. “I don’t know what to say to that. You’re right, she’s always been in the middle of it. When she decided to distance, I should have left her alone, too. I had to come clean, I guess.”

“Right,” John said, looking down at his coffee before looking back to Chris. “Speaking of coming clean, you know where she was up until about ten minutes ago? As much as she hates you and maybe never wants to see you again, she was at the diner in Attleboro with Elsa. She’s lying for you so that Elsa doesn’t believe what the cops told her about you and the rest of them being responsible for the bank hits and the kidnapping. Aurelie is still protecting you, as hurt and angry as she is.”

“That’s all I wanted,” Chris sighed, shaking his head, “for Aurelie to be protected. Guess I ruined that. Now she won’t speak to me and she’s got no one. And that’s on me.”

John tilted his head side to side. “You’re partially right. She won’t speak to you, and you’re the one who did that. But she does have someone -- she has me. I’m gonna protect her, I’m gonna take care of her. And our baby.” Shrugging, he took a drink of his coffee. “Family feud bullshit aside -- I’m telling you this man to man. Get your shit together, Chris, before it ruins anyone else.”

John took off towards his bar then, leaving Chris to walk the long mile home. Chris let what John had said sink in; the other man was right, of course. There were a lot of things Chris had messed up recently. The ripple effect of his decisions and actions was only beginning to show.

Chris decided then and there, he had to stop this before it went any further.

AlloftheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl

Boston Boys: @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @becs-bunker @shield-agent78 @patzammit @crazyandanonymous4u @ntlmundy @jennmurawski13 @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too

#chris evans #john krasinski #crossover #fanfiction #criminal!au

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dukemassetti · 4 years

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@evcravens said: u know... Wildcard babey just remember you did this to yourself...................

Orion is 25 years old and thinks he’s a golden fucking god. Maybe he is. He hasn’t slept a night alone since he moved to Paris, and the most work he has to do is a few meetings and lessons before setting up somewhere and drawing, painting, hell, even sculpting. In a city like this, none of it seems odd; even the chain smoking fits. He’s enjoying that now, window open to the breeze and two people having shuffled out not five minutes previous, when a knock sounds so loudly on the door that it could be la police.

He stamps the cigarette out in the ashtray on the sill and moves, not with any urgency despite the pounding starting again. Robe, robe, where is — ah, yes, he pulls the blue silk over his shoulders and knots it well enough to be decent. Running a hand through his hair, still wet from the shower, he sighs and considers that’s the best the stronzo outside will get. Split level penthouses just can’t offer the same security as one level and your own security key in the elevator.

He takes a moment to roll his eyes at the lack of a peephole on the door before he opens it, wide enough to stand there, blinking, at the confusion before him. He opens his mouth to say something, because what, but Everett Craven, young CEO extraordinaire and 30 under 30 media darling, beats him to the punch. ❝ Would you please — ❞ he starts in frustrated Italian before remembering where he is and course correcting. Should Orion tell him he is Italian? Maybe, but it’s funnier to watch him struggle through nascent French. ❝ You stop. ❞ He finally manages to get out. Orion raises a brow.

❝ That’s the best you’ve got ? ❞ he asks in rapid French, shaking his head. ❝ Abysmal, ❞ he continues in Italian. ❝ Seriously, if I were Parisian I’d have you thrown out for that. Of the country, I mean. ❞

Craven stands befuddled for a moment, as if the thought of another man in Paris speaking Italian was simply unheard of. Orion takes the moment to study him. He’s remarkably dull, upon first glance, apart from his tie being slightly eschew. It’s largely not even visible beneath the tan sweater-vest, and the crisp white shirt rolled up to the elbows is the only other indication that he ever unwinds at all. Finally he gets his voice back in working order.

❝ Well, ❞ he says, like the word is too common for his mouth, or perhaps it’s been poisoned, ❝ Well. This should be easy, then. ❞ Craven clears his throat at the exact time that Orion’s robe falls a little off his shoulder. He doesn’t straighten it; he can feel it’s covering everything else fairly well, and he enjoys watching this new toy squirm a little. ❝ I need you to keep it down. You’ve interrupted three conference calls, and I only got in two days ago. ❞

Orion waits for a follow-up, but none come. ❝ You’re the neighbor, ❞ he states, not a hint of a question in his voice.

❝ Yes, and I’d appreciate a quiet night. ❞

That gets a smirk. ❝ You would ? You see, I’ve been appreciating — ❞

Everett holds up a hand, but his eyes say he’s uncomfortable, not demanding. Orion grins. ❝ I don’t want to hear it. Just, once ? I’m about to take a call from America tomorrow. Surely you can wait it out one night. ❞

Now he’s leaning against the door-frame, amused. Can he make this uptight ridiculous man say stop fucking so loudly every night? Unclear, but he’s certainly going to try. ❝ Wait out what ? ❞ he asks, tilting his head. ❝ I’m certain I can deduce your meaning, but you really haven’t been clear... ❞ He waits, watching the muscles in Craven’s jaw tighten. He looks better in person. There’s a magnetism that just isn’t there in the photo shoots he’s had done since his father stepped down as CEO. He watches him swallow hard, clearly not sure what to do with someone so comfortably outside Craven’s boundaries.

❝ Whatever... dalliances you have lined up, just stop them for a night. I assume I can’t bribe you into it, considering your living situation, but — ❞

❝ You can bribe me, Craven. ❞ He almost jumps at the sound of his own name, which makes Orion laugh outright. ❝ My name’s Orion. Obviously, I know yours, with all the magazines and that. Now... for the bribe. ❞ He rakes his eyes over Craven’s lanky frame one more time. It has promise. He can’t really tell what’s going on with this many layers, though. ❝ Take off the vest. ❞

❝ What ? ❞ The outright offense in his tone makes Orion smile harder.

❝ Lose the sweater and I won’t have any ‘dalliances’ tomorrow night, ❞ he promises, using air quotes to really seal the deal. Craven has lost that boss-man presence rather quickly, and now looks quite intimidated, though he tries to recover.

Spluttering, he stands up a little too straight, narrowing his eyes at Orion. ❝ That’s it ? Just take it off, here, in the middle of the hall ? ❞

He’s reacting like Orion asked him to bare his ankles in Victorian England. One brow raised, he opens the door a little further. ❝ Unless you’d like to come inside and do so, which is on the table. ❞

Everett Craven whips the sweater vest over his head like he’s about to use it to put out a house-fire. Orion well and truly cackles, watching the flush spread down his cheeks and under the collar of his shirt. ❝ You are a lunatic, ❞ he hisses, arms still partially in the vest. A for effort, though.

He takes a moment to evaluate Craven’s shoulders — broader than he would’ve guessed, narrower than his own — before relenting. ❝ Alright, alright, ❞ he says, shaking with laughter against the doorframe, ❝ Go, I swear, I’ll be quiet as a mouse. ❞ He mimes turning a key in his mouth, and he’s still laughing when Craven shuts the door to his own half of the penthouse, nearly half a minute before Orion remembers to go back inside.

Everett really should know better by now, Orion thinks to himself as a familiar knock sounds. They’ve played this game for weeks, and over the course of those, he’s managed to learn a thing or thirty about his snobbish neighbor. He always wears matching socks, for one; Orion made him take off his shoes the second time he came to request his silence, and the vest. They’ve established a pattern of sorts. Everett probably is trying to figure out whether or not it’s extortion, but Orion knows he’s in the clear. Everett doesn’t have to keep showing up barefoot, asking for silence. He could simply deal with the embarrassment of listening to Orion bringing someone to orgasm, or hearing the dull thud of the headboard in the background.

He’s repressed, that much is clear. Otherwise he’d simply tell his fellow cronies, half of whom probably have some teenager sucking their cock under the desk, that he had an annoying neighbor. As it stands, Everett would rather die, it seems. When did he start calling him by his first name?

Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. His fellowship is ending soon, just as Everett’s business trip. It’s strange, how close their schedules align. All of this runs through his head as he makes his way to the door, lackadaisical now because this time, he’s just fucking with Everett. He opens the door with safety glasses on, and he swears that Everett’s eyes bug cartoonishly out of his skull.

❝ What on earth could you possibly be doing at an hour like this ? ❞ It’s 3 in the morning. Orion debates on telling Everett that 3 in the morning is an acceptable time to have sex before deciding to pick his battles.

Instead, he opens the door wide, and Everett seems to realize he’s fully dressed for the first time. He follows a little warily, but Orion doesn’t pay it any mind, barefoot in jeans and a henley that are now covered in dust. ❝ Wasn’t sleeping, ❞ he says, which isn’t the same as being unable to sleep, but Craven doesn’t have to know that if his assumptions suggest otherwise. ❝ Thought I’d try my hand at this one more time. ❞ He’s got a hammer and a chisel laid out on the work bench, the overhead light illuminating a statue in the center of the open room. It’s a fawn, half-emerging from the stone, wide-eyed and with a hint of wisdom in its eyes.

Everett slides his hands into his pockets. Orion knows he’s kept weird hours due to all his calls, so he’s not surprised to note that he’s fully dressed, not a hint of pajama pants in sight. He sighs, but Everett isn’t paying him attention any longer. He’s walking around the sculpture with something like awe in his eyes.

That’s not good. It’s actually bad for him, and Orion takes it in decadently, relishing in every tiny detail of his expression. ❝ You did all of this ? ❞ Everett asks. He’s mentioned he was an artist before, but someone who views Orion as he does probably thought he made a bunch of nude portraits or something. Orion shrugs.

❝ Sculpture isn’t my thing, but it kind of reminds me of you. ❞ He’s unabashed in his compliments, uncaring of whether he comes across as weird or overly invested. Orion’s feelings are always right there for you to see, if you’re looking hard enough. Right now, it feels like Everett’s looking.

They stand there, staring at each other, Orion waiting for Everett to respond. It takes a minute or so, looking from Orion back to the sculpture again and moving around it. ❝ I’d at least consider myself a stag, ❞ he says, that dry, acerbic humor of his coming out with a faint bite. Orion laughs.

❝ If anyone’s the stag, it’s me, ❞ he argues, ❝ But that probably gets a little Electra complex. Try not to think about it so hard. ❞

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Everett Craven laughs. It’s astonishing in that he hasn’t ever heard it before, and he feels a bit proud, to have earned it after so long waiting. He shakes his head, and looks at Orion with cheeks stained red again. Orion himself hasn’t blushed in years. It’s more charming than it aught to be.

❝ Were you really... having sex, every night I came ? ❞ It seems like he’s been working up to the question for a while.

Orion shrugs. ❝ Yeah. That bother you ? ❞

Now it’s Everett’s turn to gesture noncommittally. ❝ Not as much as it did. Do you ever lie ? You can be so... ❞

❝ Nope. ❞ Orion pops the ‘p’ and grins. ❝ You gonna admit my art is impressive yet ? ❞

❝ Working on it, ❞ Everett says, falling right back into that dryness now that the hint of sincerity has passed. ❝ Maybe not now that you’ve said it for me. ❞

❝ I’ll make you a deal, ❞ Orion offers, stepping closer. The statue casts weird shadows on the room, and on Everett’s face. It’s only up close that he sees it properly. They’re the exact same height, which makes eye contact uncomfortably intimate somehow, but he keeps it.

❝ Alright. What’s the deal ? ❞

❝ Either you dissect my work in detail... ❞ Orion reaches out, thumb tracing that impossible cheekbone he’s been staring at for almost a month. ❝ Either that, or you give me a kiss. ❞

In spite of how far he’s come, the offer still gets a rise out of Everett. ❝ A — a what ? ❞

❝ A kiss. You know, you and another person, you push your lips together, sounds a lot less appealing than it feels — ❞

❝ I’ve been kissed before, ❞ Everett snaps, and Orion can’t help laughing, because it sounds so much like it’s been inflicted upon him.

He shakes his head, noting that Everett hasn’t pushed his hand away from his face, though now he’s only gently holding onto him. ❝ Well it’s either a kiss or an in-depth art critique in the next ten minutes, ❞ he says, grinning. ❝ What’s it going to be ? ❞

Everett looks at him as though he’s insane. Then he looks irritated, before it crosses into fond, and then again into a blend of the two. ❝ You’re ridiculous. You aren’t even a real human being, I’m convinced — ❞

❝ Choose, Craven. ❞

❝ — some villain. You’re kind of insufferable, a menace to society, really — ❞

❝ And ? ❞

They stand looking at each other for a moment before Everett grasps Orion’s wrist, still near his face. Even his ears are red, now. ❝ And I — I will take a kiss. ❞

Orion is moving before he finishes the sentence, shutting him up as quickly and efficiently as possible. Everett misses three calls the next morning, but a strange man claiming to be his assistant calls each to apologize personally. Something in the tone of his voice suggests neither him nor his employer are all that sorry.

#{.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ EDGAR | the closest thing to comfort.#ask meme #ITS SO LONG

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lullabieswrappedinlies · 4 years

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Boston Boys [Part Seventeen]

Summary: After being visited by detectives, Elsa asks for some truth from Aurelie. Chris gets unsolicited advice from John, prompting him to make a hard decision.

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 2370 Chapter Warnings: Discussion of criminal activity, language, pregnancy, angst. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)

Three more parts after this. You’ve been warned.

Boston Boys Masterlist

“No apology necessary, Ms. Chapman,” Detective Mullins assured. “We don’t mean to intrude, but we have some leads in the investigation.”

“Really? It’s been a while since I heard anything, I assumed it was lost in the files or something.”

Detective Rose gave her a kind smile. “We try not to let these cases go if we don’t absolutely have to. As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was another significant bank hit recently.”

Elsa nodded, remembered the surveillance video on the news and the panic attack the images had induced. “I saw the report.”

“I don’t understand,” Elsa frowned. “I told you, they had masks on. I couldn’t see an inch of skin.”

Detective Rose jotted something down on a small notepad. “The Evans family has a longstanding history with the Boston legal system. Do you know about Chris’s father?”

Her throat was too dry to speak, so she nodded. She couldn’t tear her eyes from Chris’s mugshot.

“What do you need from me?” she asked, quietly.

Elsa nodded.

Elsa nodded again and showed them to the door. Detective Mullins’s business card was still stuck under a magnet on her refrigerator, so she had their contact information if she needed it.

“Aurelie,” Elsa said out loud, going back to the table for her phone.

“Elsa,” she called, waving.

The blonde woman gave a small wave in return. She stopped at the counter to order a tea and some toast, then dropped to the bench across from Aurelie. “Morning. Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure. Thanks for coming out here, especially at this hour.” Aurelie sipped her coffee.

Aurelie pursed her lips. “Chris told you about the baby.”

“He did. Congratulations, by the way. I know Chris is struggling with it, but I do hope you’re happy.”

“Thank you,” Aurelie replied, giving a small smile. “Speaking of Chris, that’s what you wanted to talk about?”

Aurelie frowned. “Did they find them?”

“They think maybe they did.” Elsa took another sip of tea. “They showed me pictures, even though I didn’t think I would recognize anyone.”

She stopped to gauge Aurelie’s reaction. That woman was still sipping her coffee, looking concerned, but not overly so. Elsa continued.

“The pictures they showed me were of Chris, Scott, Seb, and Scarlett. They’ve got some kind of forensic evidence from the most recent hit, they think that it’s them.”

“I don’t understand. Then why are they trying to pin this on them?”

Elsa took a deep breath as she processed everything Aurelie was saying. It all made sense, except for one thing. “If Chris and the others are legitimate, why do you distance yourself?”

“I’ve got to get home and get some sleep,” Aurelie sighed, pushing out of the booth. “Give Chris the benefit of the doubt, Elsa. He deserves it.”

“Morning,” John greeted.

“That’s all I wanted,” Chris sighed, shaking his head, “for Aurelie to be protected. Guess I ruined that. Now she won’t speak to me and she’s got no one. And that’s on me.”

Chris decided then and there, he had to stop this before it went any further.

Tags: @themtbmbgirl @keithseabrook27 @ulovemelightsout @rosie2801 @professorkrasinski

#john kraskinski #chris evans #crossover #fanfiction #criminal!au

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violetsmoak · 4 years

Text

Pieces of April [17/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Daily check-in to see how you're holding up under social distancing, and a reminder that in addition to washing your hands and stay inside, don't snack too much, drink at least 8 cups of water and take a shower! You'd be surprised how easy it is to stop doing a lot of the basics when you're in isolation for a while! Hang in there, people!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Six o’clock is an ungodly hour in the morning to be awake and Jason honestly doesn’t know how people do it. The hours between four and eleven in the morning are the only time he has a chance to rest, and now that’s been co-opted by the squawking creature in his arms.

He can’t imagine how the non-vigilante population finds it any easier.

And then there’s Tim.

Who voluntarily gets up at this time every morning to go play Wayne Poster Child™ after a night of knocking heads in the city.

There was a reason Bruce never let Jason patrol on a school night, and it wasn’t just because of the potential for unexplained bruises, and yet here’s little Timmy, off to run a multibillion-dollar company while existing on coffee grounds and stubbornness.

And the dumbass keeps offering to give up more sleep to take care of Jason’s kid.

How has he not fallen off a building yet?

Luisa’s gluttonous grunting brings Jason’s thoughts back to the present. She’s finally started to attack her bottles with gusto, as if it’s finally occurred to her that, “Hey, weird rubber thing in my mouth equals food”.

Jason’s grateful for that, too; not that he’s going to admit he was starting to worry there was something wrong with her.

It’s not that he’s trying to be heartless or anything, but there’s a fine line between being concerned and getting attached. And there is a mess of reasons why he can’t afford to do that. If Tim’s dopey insistence to help out is any indication, he’s already starting down that dangerous road.

Eventually, Luisa releases the nipple, and Jason maneuvers her around to burp her, only to hear a tiny, gurgling cough, which is then followed by warm wetness spilling down his shoulder—at the exact moment that Tim walks into the kitchen.

“Looks like she has a complaint about the chef,” he remarks, mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason mutters, holding the now vomit-covered baby as far out in front of him as he can do while keeping her head steady. He tries not to grimace at the stain spreading across his back; he’s probably been covered with worse, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant.

“That’s why you’re supposed to put a towel over your shoulder.”

“I know!” Jason snaps. “I forgot.”

Tim holds his hands out for the baby. “Go change.”

“I need to clean her up first.”

“You’re not sitting on my sofa covered in puke.”

“Who says I was going to sit on your sofa?” Jason challenges, even though that's exactly where he was going. He’s sort of co-opted that whole area into the downstairs changing station.

The sour-sweet smell of vomit makes the decision for him, however, and he passes Luisa over to Tim, who’s already got a washcloth in hand to dab at the mess. While Jason heads upstairs, he brings her over to that same makeshift changing station and starts to undo her soiled onesie.

The last thing Jason hears as he closes the door to his room is, “Ugh, he was right. That doesn’t look human.”

Jason snorts, glad he’s not the only one that has to suffer through mysterious bodily fluids.

He considers the merits of showering now, weighing the need to be clean versus the probability of ending up dirty again anyway in an hour or so and then decides to just wipe himself down with a wet cloth before putting on a new shirt.

Digging around in the duffel bag, he accidentally knocks down the jacket he threw haphazardly on the loveseat. The inner pocket gapes, allowing several items to fall out, including the Red Hood plush toy and the sonogram from Isabel’s fridge.

He grabbed them both on a whim before leaving the apartment, but he can’t quite recall the logic or reasoning behind that. Isabel’s email and its implications had taken up most of his brainpower at that point. The trained detective part of Jason tells him he wanted evidence, but he’s not entirely sure of evidence of what.

He picks the items up now, frowning at their existence, and then abruptly shoves them both into one of the dresser drawers.

It’s too early for soul-searching.

When he comes back downstairs, it’s to Tim just wrestling a grump baby into a white onesie. Even standing at the foot of the stairs, Jason notices that it contrasts very obviously with Luisa’s skin.

“I was right,” he says, “she’s definitely turning yellow.”

Luisa cracks an eye open at the sudden sound of his voice, and beyond the startling blue iris, he notes that her sclera is also off-color. “Look, even the whites of her eyes are going yellow.”

Tim studies her, and nods. “Yeah, she is a little jaundiced.”

“So do we take her to the doctor for this, or what? I mean, does she have yellow fever or something?”

“Yellow fever has an incubation period of three to six days,” Tim replies. “Since she hasn’t been alive that long and hasn’t had a chance to be exposed to anything like that, I doubt that’s what it is.”

Jason gives him a look. “How the hell do you know this shit?”

“An eco-fascist cell tried to contaminate Gotham’s water supply with a strain of it last year.”

“It’s always the water supply with these people,” Jason mumbles. “You’d think the city would invest in better security down there. Batman’s not always going to be there to stop it.”

“Batgirl, actually,” Tim replies. “Singlehandedly. Steph was very proud.”

“I’m sure.” Jason frowns again at the vaguely yellow baby, telling himself that if Tim isn’t worried, he shouldn’t be. Still, “You know, while we have her here, we should maybe wash off some of that white stuff."

“What? No. Did you forget? ‘Wet baby equals slippery baby’? Those were your words.”

“There are other ways to take a bath, moron,” Jason retorts, examining the bulge above Luisa’s umbilical cord stump. He thinks he remembers Dr. Kerry saying it would fall off in a week or so, but to be honest, most of the night they picked her up from the hospital is a blur to him.

“Well, I’ll leave you to that then, because I have to get going,” Tim says, heading upstairs to transform himself from half-asleep slob to Timothy Drake-Wayne.

Jason tries not to balk at that; part of him was hoping Tim would offer to do that chore.

Bathing is different from feeding. With blankets around the kid, he doesn’t have to worry so much about bruising her skin by just touching her. And yes, he knows that babies don’t bruise that easily, but he’s so used to ruining everything he touches that this seems like a valid concern to him.

In the end, he just takes his time, not giving her a real bath from the tiny tub still packed up in the pile of baby things, but an approximation of the wipe down he gave himself earlier. Careful to keep her covered except to expose whatever arm or leg needs wiping off, he slides a cloth gently against her skin, noting she’s still got that weird white residue on her.

She makes squeaking grunts of complaint at the alien feeling, but it must not feel too bad because she doesn’t erupt into crying. He takes that has a win.

“Now that Her Highness has had her morning toilette,” Jason grouses as he nestles the lump of baby into her carrier.

Once Tim leaves, Jason spends the day at home much like he did the day before, scouring the apartment for anything readable that isn’t a gaming guide, taking apart his gear and putting it back together and grabbing quick naps between feedings and changings. It’s entirely possible he may be losing his mind, because how did his life become this?

I didn’t even stay this still when I was a kid. Is this what life is like for eighteen years when you have a kid?

There has to be more to the parenting gig than this.

Frustrated, he turns the television on, surfing the channels and wondering why there’s nothing worth watching on any of the thousand channels Tim has access to. Eventually, he lands on a local news channel which he keeps on just to have something making noise in the overly silent house.

He’s barely synthesizing the information until a special report comes on, the shaky camera capturing a car speeding through Crime Alley, windows rolled down to allow a gun to open fire.

“…only the latest in a series of violent incidents that have occurred just outside of the Bowery this week,” the woman on the screen is saying. “Officials believe these may be retaliation for the recent raiding of three businesses in the Bowery with connections to the Maroni crime family…”

“Then officials are stupid because anyone gunning for Maroni wouldn’t be takin' it out on him in Crime Alley,” Jason mutters. Especially since everyone in Gotham’s underworld knows the penalty for going anywhere near Hood territory.

“…just the latest in the continuing unrest in the neighborhood. Local police are still asking for information regarding the disappearance of teenagers LaRynn Davies and Carlton King, last seen leaving the schoolyard of PS 181. This has been Maria Amardosa, Gotham News—”

Jason jabs at the remote, switching the television off.

It doesn’t surprise him that crime’s up; April and May are when the weather starts to warm up, which means a lot of enterprising criminal organizations open back up for business. Even when he was Robin, Jason used to make a point of more heavily patrolling his neighborhood in the spring to discourage that sort of thing.

And now, it’s going on a week, and he hasn’t been out once. It’s bad enough having to leave matters when he’s out of town or off-planet, but in those cases, he can’t do anything about it.

“But now, I’m right freakin’ here, and sittin’ on my ass.”

Which is why when Tim gets home from work that night and gratefully accepts the stir-fry Jason whipped up more out of boredom than actual hunger, he decides to broach the subject.

“I’m goin' out to patrol tonight,” he informs him, half-defiant. “If I don’t put in an appearance along my usual route, people are gonna start gettin' ideas.”

More than they already are.

He expects protests or warnings, but to his surprise, Tim swallows a mouthful of rice and nods. “I’ll watch the baby while you’re out.”

All reasonable like, the way he’s been since he picked me up at the bar.

Jason tries not to feel like he’s being handled, and goes on in a guarded tone, “This isn’t me tryin' to dump her off on you and run. I’m not that big of an ass.”

“Debatable. But noted. It’s not a problem.”

“Are you sure? Because if you don’t want to, tell me.”

Tim fixes him with an exasperated look. “You’re really not used to people just…genuinely wanting to help you, are you?”

“Not generally, no,” Jason replies, folding his arms across his chest. “Especially not people that I’ve tried to kill.”

“Twice.”

“Though I did knee you in the balls that one time,” Tim reminds him, shoveling another bite into his mouth.

Jason winces. “Yeah, I remember. Not sure that’s enough to put us on equal playin' field though."

“Also, do you remember last year when you thought you had a bedbug infestation, and even when you switched safehouses, you couldn’t get rid of them?”

The question is asked with an innocence that wouldn’t fool even the most naïve person in the world, and Jason growls. “Okay, I take it back. You do owe me. At least I would have made your death quick. Bedbugs are just…” He shudders. “Evil.”

“There’s a reason Ra’s al Ghul wants me to work for him,” Tim agrees cheerfully.

“I’m suddenly re-evaluating the wisdom of leaving you with a small child.”

“I’m serious, though, it’s no problem to watch her.” Tim makes a waving gesture. “Go. Break up a few bar fights, knock around whatever pimps deserve it, whatever. Just…don’t kill anyone.”

“I ain’t askin’ permission here, Drake.”

“I know that. Doesn’t mean you don’t need the reminder.”

“If you’re so worried I’m gonna snap, maybe you should be tryin’ to keep me home.”

“That would be pretty stupid. And possibly suicidal on my part. You haven’t been out on the streets for a week, and you’ve been cooped up in here since Isa came home.” He ignores Jason’s glare at the nickname. “You need some kind of outlet, and this is the best one I can think of for you.”

It’s the most laissez-faire response he’s ever gotten from a Bat when it comes to Red Hood’s involvement in the Gotham nightlife—or rather, his frequent interruptions of it. Even Barbara—who he knows understands the logic of his crusade, even as she vehemently decries it—has never been like this.

Barring the whole ‘don’t kill anyone’ spiel, that was almost encouraging.

And a far cry from the kid that accused him of taking the easy path of crimefighting when they first met years ago.

Jason realizes then that he’s had a very specific image of Tim Drake in his head all this time. Living in close quarters with him is showing him that he really doesn’t know him at all.

Now is that just me…or is the rest of the family just as clueless when it comes to the baby bird here?

He must be giving Tim a funny look, because the kid says, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jason replies. “Just wondering what Bat Daddy would think about your pro-Red Hood stance.”

Tim winces, an expression of deep revulsion on his face. “Please. Never, ever refer to Bruce or any other guy I know as ‘daddy’. Ever again.”

Jason raises an eyebrow—that’s the first time he’s elicited that reaction—but rather than ask about it, he instead returns to his room to grab his clothes.

The Nest isn’t like the Cave, where Batman keeps extra gear for everyone stowed away (even for the Red Hood, he learned shortly after the mission to bring Damian’s body back from Apokolips), which means Jason’s going to need to stop at one of his caches after leaving to get his helmet and some of the bulkier pieces of armor he didn’t have with him.

Kitted out in everything except the eponymous red hood, Jason pauses in front of the secret entrance to Red Robin’s base.

Sitting on the couch with Luisa, Tim is just hanging up the phone. “I made an appointment for her to see Leslie next Tuesday. It’s the earliest she could fit us in since I couldn’t tell her the exact details.”

“Yeah, probably something to explain in person,” Jason agrees. He jerks his thumb at the door. “I’m leavin' now. Last chance to back out.”

“It’s not going to kill me to be responsible for an infant for a few hours,” Tim deadpans. “I mean, you’ve done it all week, so it should be easy.”

“Famous last words, Replacement. Just remember—Safiya’s number’s in your phone. Use it if you get overwhelmed.”

Tim rolls his eyes at his own words being flung at him. “You’re hilarious.”

“I know,” Jason grins.

“Get out of here.”

“Gone—also, stealing one of your bikes.”

“Just make sure to fill up the tank when you’re done!” Tim calls after him before the door shuts and locks away the domestic part of Jason’s life for the evening.

The short trip from Tim’s place to Jason’s nearest safehouse passes in a blur, and before he knows it he’s safely behind the visor of his helmet and back on the streets.

There’s nothing quite like Gotham at night, and even after a lifetime living here, he’s not entirely sure if that’s a good thing or not.

The rooftops are familiar steppingstones beneath his feet, as he tucks and rolls upon landing, only to propel himself back to his feet and do it again upon reaching the next roof. The rhythm of it all is easy, second nature even, and one he missed in the days where he’s been cooped up.

The last time he was out of commission for so many consecutive days was when he caught the winter flu, and even then he dragged his carcass out of bed just to loom in the dark as a warning to anyone who might try something. It’s a trick Bruce used to pull, when needed to make an appearance as Batman but was hacking up half a lung.

Tim was right about one thing: being able to throw himself into a fight is cathartic. His mind closes off every other thought beyond the here and now, and for the first time in a week, he feels like himself.

He busts up two bodega robberies, stops a carjacking and when a john tries to drag one of the girls working the corner into his car, Jason takes supreme joy in slamming the bastard’s hand in his car door. He checks in with several of his sources, some of whom have names for him of whatever moron has decided to ignore the rules of the Hood this week.

It’s a few hours worth of running about before he finally feels clear again, and by the time he starts winding down his patrol, there’s a deep but familiar exhaustion curling in his muscles that he only ever feels after a good workout. It makes his thoughts feel clearer and more capable of tackling his personal problems once more.

Using the interface in his helmet, he runs a search for the addresses of every Jonathan Sutter in Gotham, then uses the program he piggybacks off the Batcave server to attach the names to any of them that have been treated for Joker toxin in the past year.

There are two and considering one of them is about sixty years old and works as a greeter at Walmart, it’s a safe bet which one he’s looking for. He makes a stop out of his usual route to check up on the guy.

Isabel’s ex lives in the nicer part of Otisburg, about two blocks from an elementary school and a playground. His home is a decently maintained two-story walk-up, with one of the newer Volkswagen models in the driveway. From what Safiya told him, Sutter does decently financially, and according to the photo in his dossier, he’s got a kind of refined Tony Stark looking going on.

Though that means about jack squat when it comes to whether the guy should be around kids.

If he were Batman, Jason would break in and loom over the guy’s bed until he woke up, but since Sutter’s less likely to be receptive if he’s pissing himself in fear, Jason decides he’ll return by daylight.

He just wanted to scope out where the guy lived, anyhow.

Whether due to his own exhaustion catching up with him, or the nagging feeling at the back of his mind wanting to make sure Tim’s place is still standing, he returns to where he parked the borrowed bike and heads back to the Nest earlier than he normally would.

He’s not even surprised to see the family insomniac still awake, although for once he’s not poring over case files. There’s a game paused on the flatscreen, and Tim is in the process of carefully hefting the baby in his arms up and down, a frown on his face.

Like every Bat, he gives no indication he even noticed he’s no longer alone.

“What’s up?” Jason asks as he rubs a towel through his sweaty hair; he left the bulky bits of his gear in the Nest.

“I think she feels lighter than she did when we brought her here,” Tim replies, a perplexed expression on his face. “Do you think she’s not getting enough food?”

“Not possible with the amount we feed her.”

“Yeah…” Tim shakes his head, then meets Jason’s gaze. “So, did you strike fear into the hearts of every gangbanger in the Alley?”

“You joke, but I take that as a personal challenge.”

“Please don’t.” Tim stands up, holding the baby with more confidence than Jason thinks he’s ever imagined and wanders over. “She slept most of the time you were away.”

“Of course she did,” Jason mutters with a scowl. The baby seems to behave for Tim a lot more than she does for him.

“That’s pretty impressive since she already spends about three-quarters of the day asleep.”

“Wish she would sleep at night, or at least let me.”

“It’s not like we’re not used to being up at all hours.”

“Yeah, but we’re also used to passing out for actual sleep when we get home. I think she thinks sunrise is a signal to work up a f-fuh--,” Jason’s complaint is interrupted by a yawn, and he shakes his head. “Fuss. And on that note…”

“Go. Shower,” Tim says. “I can put her down before I turn in.”

Jason nods at that, putting a foot on the stairs before something occurs to him and he glances back.

“Hey, Tim…”

“Yeah?”

“…Thanks.”

Tim appears caught off-guard, and then an actual grin breaks over his face. “Careful, Jay, you’re starting to sound downright friendly.”

“It’s the sleep deprivation,” Jason replies, “Don’t read into it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

⁂⁂⁂

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

Next Chapter

#jaytim #timjay #babyfic #kidfic #slow build #slow burn #jason todd #tim drake #cabin fever #work life balance of a vigilante #baby isa #adulting

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superfreakerz · 6 years

Text

TDDUP17

"Til Death Do Us Part"

Rated M for eventual smut and heavy themes.

Immortal/Reincarnation AU.

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, but it's best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

Read earlier chapters on FF.net

Chapter 17

Ready or Not

Waking up with her legs tangled around Natsu's and her head over his chest was not how Lucy envisioned her morning to start. Remembering herself asking Natsu to stay last night had the girl's cheeks in flames. She couldn't believe she'd been so bold in her tired state, asking Natsu to spend the night with her…

Well, not like she could really complain.

Her eyes glazed over his features. His bangs, which were usually spiked up, now laid over his forehead. His scarf was still wrapped around his neck, making Lucy wonder how he could sleep while wearing it. His hand rested on her hip, making the space between her legs tingle as she thought of where else his hand could be.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Lucy!" she thought to herself. She had other pressing matters to ponder about anyways. Like her relationship with Natsu.

After last night, it was impossible to deny their feelings towards each other. Still, that didn't help Lucy define their relationship. They held hands, cuddled, and even fell asleep together. Those were all things couples did, not friends. But were they dating?

He'd never asked her to be his girlfriend, so she figured they weren't. But what if he just assumed that acting in such a way automatically made them a couple? Did it? Lucy didn't have a clue.

All of their other friends were in defined relationships. Why did theirs have to be so complicated?

Heaving a sigh, Lucy shook her head and forced those thoughts to the back of her mind. They were still in the early stages of their relationship- whatever that may be- it didn't make sense to start stressing about it now. Besides, they had plenty of time to figure it out.

Getting out of bed, Lucy grabbed some clothes before heading to the bathroom. Making sure to lock the door behind her- she knew very well that Natsu had a problem of barging in places- she started the shower and took off her clothes before hopping in.

Once she was dressed, Lucy exited the bathroom to find Natsu sitting on her bed, scrolling through his phone.

"You're finally awake," Lucy said, unable to help the warmth that rushed to her cheeks remembering that they slept together. Not to mention they were acting so casual about it, as if it was a normal thing. Sure, he'd slept in the same bed as her many times, but that was because he invited himself in to her chagrin. This time, she had welcomed him.

"You're the one that's up early," Natsu replied, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Well excuse me for having an early class. Shouldn't you be rushing home to get ready for math?"

"Why? It only takes me like twenty minutes to get ready. You're the only one that needs hours."

Lucy crossed her arms with a huff. "Whatever." Making sure her bag was ready for school and popping some bread in the toaster, the girl sat by him. Glancing at his phone, she found that he was scrolling through Facebook. "I didn't know you had a Facebook." Come to think of it, they hadn't added each other on any social media. They only had each other's phone numbers.

"Yeah, I do," Natsu replied with a shrug. "But I don't use it to talk to anyone or anything. I just use it to look at memes and stuff. Same with all of the other websites."

"You don't talk to anyone?"

"Nope. I don't even have any friends on it."

"You're kidding!"

Natsu brought up his friends list, and sure enough, it was barren. Lucy's brows rose. Never before had she met someone who had no friends. Sure, she had a similar account that she made to check up on how her old family members were doing, but that's because of her reincarnation.

"Does this have anything to do with your secret?" Lucy asked, the words stumbling out of her mouth before she could even think about them.

Natsu glanced towards her before nodding hesitantly.

"Then I won't ask you about it," Lucy said, upholding their agreement. Curiosity ebbed at her, but she ignored it. Maybe one day Natsu would trust her with the truth, but for now she was fine with how things were.

"Thank you," Natsu murmured.

Before she could reply, the toaster went off. Grabbing the toast, she slathered some strawberry jam on it before grabbing her keys.

"I have to go now," she said. Remembering the spare key she was given when she signed the lease, she grabbed it and held it out towards Natsu, her cheeks rosy. "You can get ready here if you want. Just make sure to lock the door on the way out."

Natsu's eyes widened, his cheeks matching his hair as he accepted the key. "You're giving me a key to your apartment?"

"D-Don't say it like that!"

"Like what!? I didn't even say it weird!"

Lucy flushed from head to toe, averting her gaze. "I-I just figured that since you're here most of the time anyways, you might as well use the door. And like I said, you have to lock the door on the way out if you're going to be getting ready here. There are some of your clothes in that hamper over there. I really gotta go now. Bye, Natsu! I'll see you in class later!" With that, she was out the door before he could reply.

Natsu stayed on her bed, staring at the silver key that rested in the palm of his hand.

"I can't believe that weirdo already gave me a key to her apartment."

"Good morning, Lu-chan!" Levy greeted while Jellal waved towards her.

Lucy smiled at her friends, taking her seat. "Morning, guys."

Levy stared at her, arching a brow. "Did you run to class or something?"

"No, why?"

"Because your face is really red!"

Lucy slapped her hands over her cheeks, turning away from her friend. Her overly persistent, curious, has-to-know-everything friend. "N-No it isn't! You're just seeing things, Levy-chan!" Ever since waking up next to Natsu and then giving him a key to her apartment, her body hadn't calmed down even slightly.

"No, your face is actually red," Jellal chimed in, much to the blonde's chagrin. "Are you sick, perhaps?"

"Maybe!"

Levy studied her. And sure enough, nothing ever got past the girl. "Or did something happen with you and Natsu?"

Lucy whipped her head towards the blue-headed girl, laughing frantically. "W-What gives you that idea!? You say weird things sometimes, Levy-chan!"

"Gajeel already told me about you guys."

Lucy groaned, slapping a head over her forehead. She should've known he was going to tell Levy about it. They were dating and all, it wasn't that much of a surprise. "Still! I kept that jerk's secret about proposing! That guy is dead meat when I see him later!"

"How could you tell Gajeel before me!?" Levy's voice rang out, bringing her out of her thoughts.

A vein ticked in the girl's forehead as she leaned closer to Levy, glaring at her. "I don't know. Maybe I was going to tell you when we were supposed to meet up for smoothies but turns out you set up a little play date between Gajeel and I instead!" She pinched the other girl's cheeks.

Levy chuckled. "Oh yeah. Alright, I forgive you. How was that, by the way? Gajeel didn't really say. You know how he is."

"It was fine. I think he really warmed up to me over time."

"That's great! I really wanted things to stop being so weird between you guys since you're my best friend and he's my boyfriend."

"Soon to be fiancé," Lucy thought, a smile stretching over her face.

"Wait, what happened between you and Natsu?" Jellal questioned.

"They pretty much confessed to each other," Levy answered for the other girl, knowing that she would be too embarrassed.

"Really? That's good to hear."

Lucy fidgeted in her seat, embarrassed from the attention. It only got worse when she said, "I also asked him to spend the night last night. And I just gave him a key to my apartment this morning." Glancing towards Jellal, she asked, "Wait, are you going to tell Erza all of this?"

The boy gave an apologetic smile. "Well, she is my wife and all."

Lucy sighed. "Alright, alright. Fine." If she had a husband- she flushed when an image of Natsu popped in her head- she would tell him all the gossip right away. She couldn't blame her friends for doing the same. And since most of their group knew anyways, she might as well tell Gray later, who would then tell Juvia.

"I don't see why everyone is so invested in my relationship with Natsu anyways," Lucy said, crossing her arms. Though, that was a lie. She was invested in their relationships too, after all. She was just embarrassed.

"It's a big deal for us," Levy explained. "Natsu's never had a real girlfriend before so it's new to see him actually like someone in that way." She opted to leave out that everyone was also interested to see how a relationship between an immortal and a mortal would work out. "Plus, you haven't had a real boyfriend either."

"I've had a boyfriend before!"

"I said a real boyfriend, Lu-chan. You said that you guys didn't really do much and didn't last long, so that doesn't count."

"I guess," Lucy muttered. "Either way, Natsu and I aren't even official yet. So maybe we shouldn't make a big deal out of it just yet."

"He hasn't made it official?" Jellal asked.

"Nope. Even though it's been days since we confessed. I'm starting to think he'll never ask."

"Natsu's never been one to really say what he's thinking," Levy said. "It's rare. He's more of a man of action."

"Well, he needs to act faster then because I'm getting confused with all of this waiting around. Should I ask him out?"

"If you want. It's 2018, go for it. Who says the guy has to ask the girl?"

Lucy buried her face in her hands. "Yeah, but I'm too scared. Or embarrassed. I don't really know what I'm feeling, but I just can't ask him."

"Then don't," Jellal replied with a shrug. "You guys don't need a label yet. Take it as slow as you need to."

Before Lucy could reply, Capricorn entered the room, signaling the start of class. She couldn't stay focused, though, her mind wandering towards a certain pink-haired boy.

Once class ended, Lucy waved towards Levy and Jellal, telling them that she'd see them later at Fairy Tail. With a heart that was beating erratically in her chest, the girl took quick steps towards her next class to see Natsu. Oh, and Gray too, of course.

Opening the door, Lucy's eyes landed on Natsu immediately, her face going up in flames. Dusted over his cheeks was a faint blush. He was just as nervous as she was.

Taking her seat, Lucy smiled at Natsu, but her eyes were trained to the side. Bringing herself to look at him up close was impossible.

"Hi, Natsu."

"Hey."

Gray glanced between the two, his brow piqued. Their faces were red, and they weren't looking at each other. Then it hit him. "Oh shit. Are you guys finally together?"

The two whipped their heads towards him. While Lucy looked embarrassed, Natsu only glared at him.

Lucy studied Natsu, gaging his reaction. She hoped he would say something because she was just as curious as Gray. Were they together or not? She'd been asking herself the same thing for days now!

To her dismay, Natsu punched Gray upside the head.

"Shut up, Popsicle Princess," he grumbled.

Lucy sighed. That was no help.

"Oi! I was just asking a question!" Gray shouted.

Before the two could get into a fight, Aquarius walked into the classroom. With that, class began.

Natsu groaned once he finally escaped Aquarius' clutches. Even though the class was barely even an hour long, he considered it torture. Sure, the lessons were easy, but their professor was an absolute psychopath who loved to throw chalk at him if he even opened his mouth to talk to Lucy.

"Finally! We're free!" he shouted, pumping a fist in the air.

"I don't think that class is too bad," Lucy replied, walking in between the two boys.

"That's because you're that lady's favorite student for some reason." Noticing that Lucy had stopped walking, he turned around to face her, only to find a wide grin stretched over her face. "Lucy? What's up?"

"I win."

"Win what?"

"You just said that I'm Aquarius' favorite student, which means that you admit I got on her good side! I win the bet!"

Natsu gaped at her. "No way! I didn't mean it like-!"

"Whatever, liar! I win, you lose! Looks like you're taking me out to dinner!"

Heat traveled up to his face. When they originally made the bet, they were just friends. Taking her out to dinner would've been a normal outing. But now that they were… whatever they were, it was no doubt considered a date. And since it was going to be his first date, he was going to make it awesome.

Ducking his face in his scarf, he muttered, "Yeah, yeah. Fine. But not today. I gotta plan this stuff out. I wasn't expecting you to win."

"Deal," Lucy replied, a warm smile glued to her face.

"You guys done yet?" Gray chimed in, hands in his pockets as usual. "I'd like to get to Fairy Tail sometime today, you know."

Reaching Fairy Tail, Lucy wasn't surprised that the whole gang was already there. Erza and Jellal were chatting amongst themselves while Gajeel, Levy, and Juvia were talking about something else. Approaching the table, all eyes landed on them. Lucy could tell by the blush spread over Erza's cheeks and the way her eyes darted between her and Natsu that Jellal had already spilled the beans. She wouldn't have been surprised if Juvia already knew too.

"How was class?" Jellal asked the trio.

"Horrible as always," Natsu answered, slouching in his usual seat and ordering a large helping of food.

"That's the class with the mean professor, right?" Levy questioned.

"She's not mean," Lucy replied. "Well, she can be. But that's just how she acts. Deep down she's really nice."

"I don't see it," Gray said, to which Natsu nodded his agreement.

"So what are everyone's plans for tonight?" Erza asked, changing the subject.

Lucy and Natsu shared a quick glance, automatically figuring that they'd be hanging out together.

"Why? What do you have in mind?" Levy asked.

The redhead smiled, cupping her chin. "I think it'd be a good time to have another girls' night, don't you think? With some of the recent… changes in our group, I think it'd be fun."

"Oh! That does sound fun!"

"Then it's settled!" Erza exclaimed.

Lucy chuckled to herself. Erza hadn't asked if she or Juvia were okay with it, but that's what made the redhead so entertaining.

"Let me guess, we're doing this at my place, right?" the blonde asked.

"Of course. But don't worry, I'll buy us some food since we're intruding."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Another girls' day?" Natsu whined, crossing his arms. "How many of these things do you guys need to have?"

"Lots! Girl time is fun and necessary for a happy life!"

"What do you guys even do?" Gray questioned, annoyed that he wouldn't be able to hang out with Juvia.

Erza smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Soon enough, everyone was saying their goodbyes. Lucy watched Erza lean towards her husband and give him a quick kiss. Glancing towards Natsu, she wondered if they would ever do that.

Natsu turned towards Lucy to find the girl staring at him with red cheeks.

"Why are you staring at me like that? You weirdo," he teased. His lips curled into an amused grin watching her blush deepen as she pouted.

"No reason!" she replied. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Alright. Have fun, Luce."

With that, the girls were out the door in a fit of excited murmur and giggles. They stopped by a quick market to pick up some snacks and drinks, which Erza paid for, as promised. After that, they were on their way to Lucy's apartment.

Lucy jiggled her key in the lock before swinging the door open. Her eyes instantly landed on the pile of clothes that were on the floor beside her bed. A pair of white joggers and a familiar, one-sleeved coat.

"Are those Natsu's clothes?" Levy asked, wiggling her brows at the blonde, who was hastily picking them up and throwing them in the hamper.

"Maybe," Lucy answered, knowing that there was no point in lying to them. No one other than Natsu wore a coat like that.

"Jellal told me about your guys' confessions," Erza started, her cheeks matching her hair, "but I didn't think you would progress that fast."

"It's not like that!" Lucy cried, her cheeks set ablaze as she waved her arms frantically in the air. "He spent the night last night- no nothing happened- and he got ready here when I left for class! That's it!"

"How did you two confess?" Juvia questioned. "Juvia hasn't heard the details yet!"

Lucy plopped onto her bed. "Well, it's a long story."

"Good thing we're spending the night here then," Erza replied. "Now tell us."

"Alright," she said with a sigh. "It was a few nights ago and Natsu and I got into an argument."

"An argument about what?"

Lucy recalled that fateful night. She had just found out that he- along with the rest of their friends- had been lying to her face about where they lived and a whole bunch of other things.

His warning from that night played in her head.

"You can't let the others know about this, okay?" he said, holding her by the shoulders.

"What do you mean?"

"Remember how I said it isn't just my secret to share? Well, they don't want anyone knowing about it at all. If they find out that you know something is up, they won't let us hang out anymore."

Lucy frowned, her suspicions coming back. "They would do that even though I'm friends with them too?"

Natsu nodded. "Even though it isn't dangerous or anything like that, it's an important secret. If they find out you know, you probably won't see any of us again."

Lucy swallowed thickly. All of her friends were staring at her, waiting for her to answer.

"It was something stupid," she lied, waving her hand through the air. "I don't even remember what it was." To keep them from questioning her about it any further, she continued, "Anyways, when we were making up, he told me I was his everything and I told him he was mine too."

"That's so cute!" Levy gushed, squeezing a pillow to her chest. "I wish Gajeel's confession was that cute."

Juvia smiled. "Gray's confession was very cute! He told Juvia that she was his!"

"That is pretty cute. What about you, Erza?"

The redhead cupped her chin in thought. It was decades ago that she and Jellal made their feelings clear. Still, that day was one she would never forget.

"We didn't really confess with words," she explained. "We shared a kiss and that was it."

"Who made the first move?"

"Well, it was pretty obvious that we both wanted it, so I would say it was mutual."

"That's so cute too!" Lucy squealed. "You two are so much bolder than I am!"

Erza grinned. "Yes, well, we've also known each other much longer than you and Natsu. It's easier to be bold when you've spent so much time getting to know each other."

"Are you two official now?" Juvia asked Lucy.

The blonde sighed, shaking her head. How many times had she heard that today? "No, not yet."

Juvia's lips curled downwards into a small frown. She opened her mouth, only to close it right after.

"What's wrong? What were you going to say?" Lucy asked.

The blue-haired girl averted her gaze. "Juvia was just wondering if Lucy is ready now. Last time we spent the night, you told us that you weren't ready for a relationship. Did something change?"

Lucy's eyes widened a fraction as she pondered the question. Was she ready? It wasn't like her reincarnation had disappeared over night. All of the problems she worried about before still existed. One day, she would die and have to watch Natsu move on. That, or he would die first, which was even worse. Plus, keeping her reincarnation a secret while dating Natsu was going to be tricky.

So far, a relationship seemed like trouble. Was it worth it?

As Lucy pictured Natsu's smiling face, her heart swelled with warmth, and she knew the answer.

He was worth it.

No matter how hard it was going to be to keep her reincarnation a secret, no matter how devastating it was to think about Natsu with another girl after she dies, no matter what, Lucy wanted to be with Natsu from the bottom of her heart.

Her lips quivered into a smile, tears welling in her eyes as she nodded. Lucy saw the other girls sharing quizzical looks, no doubt wondering why she was crying. Even if she could tell them why, it wasn't like they'd understand.

After literal lifetimes of closing herself off from everyone, stopping herself from making friends and dating, Lucy could finally say to herself that she was ready. It was a big step in her life.

Aquarius was right, there was no right time. Lucy had been waiting for a time when she wouldn't be scared of the possibilities, but that time was never going to come. She was still terrified, but she threw caution to the wind. Just as Aquarius put it, she had to charge in.

"I'm ready," Lucy breathed out, her voice shaky. "I'm actually ready."

Erza placed a hand over her shoulder, giving her a motherly smile. Even though she didn't understand the other girl's reaction, she was happy for her. "That's great to hear. I'm sure you and Natsu will be happy together."

"Well, if he ever asks you out," Levy chimed in. "Want us to talk to him for you?"

Lucy shook her head. "No thanks. It'll happen when it happens." Juvia wrapped her arms around the blonde in a tight hug, unknowingly suffocating her. "This must be what Gray deals with."

"Juvia is so happy for you!" she exclaimed. "Love is an amazing thing and now you get to experience it!"

"Thanks, you guys," Lucy replied with a giggle.

As hours rolled by in the blink of an eye, the girls got ready for bed. Lucy laid beside Levy.

"I hope you guys get together soon," Levy whispered since Erza and Juvia had already passed out. "Remember when I kept telling you I wanted you to meet someone so we could go on double dates? Looks like my wish is finally coming true!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "As if we could go on a double date. Natsu and Gajeel would kill each other before we even reach our destination."

"I guess that's true." The girl cracked a yawn. "I'm going to bed now, Lu-chan. Goodnight."

"Night, Levy-chan."

Lucy stared up at the ceiling. Last time the girls spent the night, so much had happened. She had broken down into tears in front of Natsu because the thought of her reincarnation had stopped her from kissing him. In the end, she was grateful it did. If they had kissed that night, they wouldn't have had their heartfelt confessions in the end.

Grabbing her phone, Lucy sent Natsu a quick message, asking him if he was awake. In seconds, her phone buzzed with a reply.

"Yeah I'm awake. I'm always awake this late," he texted her.

Lucy smiled, her fingers tapping the screen. "I miss you."

"Want me to go over there again?"

"No, I'll be fine. Just wanted to talk to you." Lucy frowned as minutes passed by and she hadn't gotten a text back. Once her phone lit up, her gaze shot towards the new text.

"How's girls' night?"

Lucy's lips stretched into an ear-to-ear grin. "Amazing. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much, just playing some video games with Gray."

"Oh, Gray is over?"

"Well, we kinda live together."

Lucy's brows rose. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had figured that out when Gray had lied to her back at Fairy Tail.

"Does this mean all of you guys live together?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Where?"

"Can't say, Luce. No more questions! I probably shouldn't have even told you that we live together in the first place."

"It's okay. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks, Lucy."

"Don't mention it." A loud yawn slipped past her lips. "Well, I'm off to bed now. I just wanted to talk to you for a bit before I fall asleep."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. This time just us?"

"It's a date!"

"Psh, no way."

Lucy rolled her eyes, biting back an amused grin. "That's just an expression, Natsu."

"Oh," he replied. She could just picture his blushing face. "Alright, then yeah! It's a date!"

"Goodnight, Natsu."

"Sweet dreams, Luce."

Natsu's eyes blinked open the next morning, woken up by a loud knock on the door. Grabbing his phone, he saw that it was already past two in the afternoon.

"Who is that?" Gray asked, his voice laced with irritation.

"How the hell should I know?" Natsu replied. Forcing himself out of bed, he walked towards the door, his feet feeling like bricks in his tired state. With his eyes narrowed in a glare, he swung open the door to find a head of blue.

"Levy? What're you doin' here?" he asked. Levy only went over to their room unless the whole gang was there.

The girl looked up at him, her face serious. "Get dressed. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Lu-chan."

"What exactly about Lucy?"

Levy glanced towards Gray. "I'd rather talk about this alone."

Natsu nodded, still confused about the whole thing. "Alright, well just lemme get ready first."

Hopping in the shower, the boy wondered what Levy wanted to talk about. Whatever it was had to be serious. He rarely ever saw Levy like that. Then it hit him.

Sure that everyone knew about him and Lucy, he figured Levy was going to tell him not to hurt her. Or to hurry up and make it official.

"Why do I hafta be the one to make it official?" Natsu thought with a frown. He'd been thinking it over for days and still had no idea what to do. It wasn't like he was purposely making Lucy wait.

After finishing getting ready, Natsu opened the door, unsurprised to find Levy waiting for him. He closed the door behind him. They were the only ones in the hallway.

"Well? What is it?" Natsu asked.

Levy shook her head. "Not here."

With a shrug, Natsu headed towards the stairs leading the way to the pub. Still, Levy wasn't satisfied.

"Not at Fairy Tail," she said.

Not knowing where exactly Levy wanted to go, he let her lead the way this time, following her out of the pub. He walked behind her on the streets of Magnolia, watching the petite girl squeeze her way through the throng of people.

Finally, Levy stopped at a playground, which was nearly empty save for a few kids who were swinging on the monkey bars. Natsu watched the girl's shoulders rise as she took a deep breath before turning to face him. Her brows were slanted as she gave him a pointed stare.

"Care to tell me what all of this is about now?" Natsu asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You said it was about Lucy, but what exactly about her?"

"What did you do, Natsu?" Levy replied, her voice quiet. Her eyes narrowed into a harsh glare.

"What do you mean? I didn't do anything!"

"Rules exist for a reason, Natsu! Do you think I don't want to tell Lu-chan about any of this!?"

"What are you talking about?" Natsu's hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He'd never been irritated with Levy before, but he was going to lose his patience soon if she didn't just spit it out already.

Levy's tiny fists tightened, and she squeezed her eyes shut as if thinking about what to say next. And when she finally did speak next, Natsu's heart stopped, his whole body filled with dread.

"You told Lu-chan the truth about us, didn't you?"

#fairy tail #nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #ftfanfiction #tddup #til death do us part

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