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kawaiijohn · 3 years ago

Text

Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently. “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha. You've never said that to me before.” The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual. Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least. “Seriously, though. It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!" He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically. "But... it's kinda, y'know. Personal-” Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course. Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that). A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking. An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye. With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains. They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake. To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions. After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity? Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward. They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best. Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him. Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought. Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue. It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!” He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?” They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny. They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now). They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation. It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response. Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away. “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!! Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!” He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions. Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways. And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after. Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always. Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ . And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were. There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed. Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line. They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse. “Shit! I mean... uh crap??" They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present. "Never mind just... sorry for asking... Oh man! Did I offend you somehow? Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!” They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core. “We can just forget about it if-” Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development. Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did). Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder. “It is more than fine, Daniel. You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.” They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were. I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment." Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors. "Come along- it’s best we sit for this. I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms. “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.” They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time. They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed. Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry. The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.” Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme. Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile. “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz! Unfair!!” His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues. “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this? Well, there’s the universe right? Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends? But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought. Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige. They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all. The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call. Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’ The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought. “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish. “I got it!! The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept? Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’” Danny nods to himself. "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely. Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah! We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams? The Void or something, maybe? And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-” Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization. “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did. Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.” Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground. “Now then. We have drinks. We are sitting comfortably. I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.” They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute. It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life. They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night. Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm. Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive. Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt. “Wait wait- this realm? Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now??? Are you messing with me? Like… I thought it was all just-” The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone. Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered? Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet? The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin. Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts??? He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly. One you asked I tell you…” Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story. Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists? Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?” He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head. White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders. Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward. “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.” Another sip. Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always. They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously. ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you? Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning?? Could I shoot lightning if I tried? Like were you some sorta time wizard? Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?” Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age. He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid. “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story. The choice is yours, Daniel.” They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short. The best answer. “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue. “Now- to answer your last question… Yes. You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that. Other players, situations, and pure circumstances. The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.” Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul. “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response. “Wait... me? Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know?? Can that even happen???” Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself. The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache. “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that. You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.” They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?” Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers. The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently. After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again. “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once. It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter. “Did you just use sarcasm??? Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!” The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows. After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes. “But no. Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.” Clockwork waves their hand. The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes. They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender. The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story. “Do you understand what’s being seen?” The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two. Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

#danny phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #dp #phanfic #art #my fic #RRR #dantes vibe corner

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bopbopstyles · 4 years ago

Photo

ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat. You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together. That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?” Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room. The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping, and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his, the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?” You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized, and shifted away so he could get at his computer.

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK, a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower, a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

#frat boy harry #frat boy au #frat boy fan fiction #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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sylvies-chen · 3 years ago

Text

Test Runs

Summary: Matt agrees to help Sylvie babysit a 5-month-old Brian Cruz for the night to help Chloe and Joe out, and gets a glimpse at a life with Sylvie he thought he could only ever dream of.

Words: ~5.5K

Warnings: None?? It’s just pure baby fever and heart eyes and canon-compliant established Brettsey

Tagging: @fighterkimburgess Cíara, this one’s for you. I hope you enjoy your much anticipated gift— and some very long, plot-less tooth rotting fluff :)

A/N: I don't know what this is and I'm pretty sure I zoned out while writing this so let me know what you think of this because this is the least edited thing I've ever written lol

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

Matt’s in the locker room at the end of a tiringly long shift when he hears Sylvie’s voice coming from behind him.

Their shift has been filled with an endless amount of intense calls. House fires, a harrowing ambo call according to Sylvie, car crashes galore. He’s more than ready to go home and enjoy his next few days off. He and Sylvie had even agreed to make tonight a date night, staying in with a bottle of wine and watching a movie (or, in their case, not watching a movie). It makes him even happier to be done with this shift. Just a regular, normal, peaceful night.

That’s what it’s supposed to be, at least. Only he hears his girlfriend’s voice and, instead of its usual soothing effect on him, is filled with something tense and nervous. He turns around and lo and behold, Sylvie’s standing in front of him with a perpetual wince.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“I may or may not have told Joe and Chloe I’d babysit Brian for them tonight,” she explains nervously, her palms stretched out flat against each other. “Which means I’m going to have to take a raincheck on that date night we’d planned.”

Matt instantly finds it hilarious that she’d been so worried to tell him about it. “Sylvie, it’s fine,” he assures her. “Date night can be any night, we’ll just postpone it for another day.”

“Really? You’re not bummed out?” “I’m extremely bummed out,” he corrects her, his hands flying to her arms and rubbing circles on them gently with his thumbs. “But I’m not mad. I just wanted to spend time with you after a long shift, that’s all.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m sorry. Joe just kept going on and on about how he and Chloe haven’t had a minute to themselves since the baby was born and I just remember thinking how, if that were you and I, it’d make me really sad not getting to have a night off with you.”

Matt swears his heart melts right then and there. Sylvie’s compassion is pretty much endless but when she mixes it with that adorably longing look in her eye, and with words like that? Yeah, Matt’s a total goner.

Things between him and Sylvie have been going so great. They’re going on six months and not a single day goes by where he doesn’t feel like the happiest guy in the world. He knows tonight is one of their only nights off between shifts and he’d prefer not to have to share her quite yet during those nights but Joe and Chloe are their friends, Sylvie was right to offer them a kind gesture.

So an idea forms.

Matt’s always been good with kids, he’ll never complain at getting the chance to look after one. Especially not when it’s with the woman he loves. Besides, he sort of loves the idea of spending the night watching Sylvie gush over Brian Cruz. She was sort of adorable with Amelia, he can only assume it will be the same with Brian.

So much for a normal, peaceful night. (Although frankly, Matt thinks normal is overrated.)

“What if I came with you?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “What if I looked after him with you? I’m sure Joe and Chloe wouldn’t mind, I’d be more than willing to give you an extra set of hands.”

She gives him a puzzled, slightly skeptical look. “So you mean to tell me,” she starts, “that you want to spend one of your few nights off in between shifts babysitting a screaming, crying, spitting five-month-old baby, just… because I am?”

“That’s sort of the idea, yeah,” he chuckles. “I’m good with kids, I can handle a little spit-up. Besides, I’ll take any time I can get with you.”

Ok. So maybe that was a little cheesy. It still rings true nonetheless. Spending time with her in any capacity is good enough for him-- and he has a feeling this will be a lot of fun.

She seems to think the same thing too, and smiles sweetly at him. “How did I get so lucky?”

“You just are,” he shrugs amusedly and leans in to kiss her soundly, sinking into it for a minute before he realizes he shouldn’t get carried away when they’re in the locker room. He’ll save the PDA for Stella and Severide. When he pulls away, she moves to pick up her bag and shut her locker, the two of them ready to leave. “So I’ll pick you up then? What time did they want you there?”

“5:00. But I should warn you,” Sylvie warns teasingly with a pointed index finger. “I will be singing a lot of Wiggles songs. It will not be sexy.”

He lets out a chuckle from deep in his chest and Sylvie returns the laugh as she heads out of the locker room and to her car. Even when she’s gone, Matt can still feel himself smiling like an idiot.

Like he said: Sylvie Brett makes him feel like the happiest guy in the world.

“Hey. You’re in a good mood.” Matt’s about to get his own bag and leave when he turns around to see Severide coming into the locker room.

“Yeah, well, I’m on babysitting duty tonight,” he explains. “With Sylvie. Joe and Chloe needed some time off so she volunteered and I thought I’d tag along.”

“Uh-oh,” Kelly teases. “I sense a little baby fever coming on.”

“What? No, Sylvie’s not baby-crazy, it’s not like that.”

“I’m not talking about her,” Severide explains. “I’m talking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You’re a sucker for kids, man. You’ve wanted them for as long as I’ve known you. You’re going to have that little pipe dream back in your head by the end of the night, I’m telling you,” he warns, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’ll be fine,” Matt grumbles in response. “I think I can handle one night of babysitting. Besides, we’re just helping Cruz. Kids are something for down the line. Way down the line.”

“So you have thought about it,” Kelly replies victoriously, raising a single, cocky eyebrow.

“What about you and Kidd, huh?” Matt knows deflecting won’t work forever, but he’s not ready to admit to himself that he has thought about it, nevermind Severide. So switching the subject back onto his best friend seems like the safe option. “You’re the ones who are married now. You two haven’t thought about having kids?”

Kelly bites his tongue, blushes slightly. It’s a rare occurrence for him, but one reserved uniquely for all matters related to Stella. “Maybe,” Severide shrugs. “But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” Matt huffs, picking up his bag and shutting his own locker. “I can handle myself. I was just giving you a heads up in case you wondered why I wasn’t at the loft. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Matt heads out after that making a beeline for his truck before anyone else can question him about this.

Severide doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He and Sylvie are enjoying their time together right now, taking things at their own pace. Matt’s not about to ruin that for some fantasy he had that’s slowly dissipated. After all, what’s the point in wanting kids if you don’t have someone you want to have them with? After Gabby, he’d given up on that until what was once a pipe dream became something completely irrelevant and blurry in the back of his mind. Besides, six months of dating is a little soon to be thinking about that. There’s about a million steps they have to go through first, a million milestones before kids would be in the question. So yeah. He and Sylvie are not in any rush. For now, Matt is perfectly happy to be able to wake up to her for as many mornings as he can. Just him and her. That’s always going to be enough for him, no matter what. His small fantasies are a thing of the past.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he drives home to the loft and gets ready to pick Sylvie up. He repeats it over and over until eventually, it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.

********

When Sylvie hops into his truck, she’s wearing jeans and an old graphic t-shirt. She figures it’s best to wear something she won’t mind dirtying a little. She explains this to Matt when they’re in his truck and he nods thoughtfully at her smart thinking. He even leans over to kiss her on the cheek while waiting for one of the traffic lights to turn red. Only then does it truly register in Sylvie’s head about what they’re doing tonight.

They’re really, truly, spending an entire night together with their friend’s adorable baby.

She really hadn’t expected Matt to offer his help tonight. She doesn’t need the help-- Sylvie knows her way around a five-month-old, after all-- but he’d offered it anyway which somehow makes it even sweeter. Joe and Chloe had been more than okay with it. There’s no one more decent and reliable than Matt Casey, after all. Together, Brian Cruz is guaranteed to spend the whole night being showered with love. She’s sure of that, so she’d obviously been thrilled to have him tag along for babysitting. Until the weight of it all sinks in, that is.

Things between them have been going so great. It’d taken them longer than she’d hoped to sort out their feelings but it’d made the release all the more satisfying. They’re here now, together. And even though they’re only six months into this relationship, she knows that she’s never backing out. This is it; for both of them. It adds an extra layer to her happiness, knowing that everything she does with him will be her last firsts. It’s wonderful and beautiful in all the best ways. They’re still fairly early on in their relationship though. She doesn’t have an exact plan for the future-- it’s the only thing she can’t plan out thoroughly, unfortunately-- but she knows six months is still fresh in the grand scheme of things. And whereas she thinks a kid or two might be nice, it’s still too early to have a conversation that’s that detailed with him. Up until now, she’d been perfectly fine avoiding that talk. Now though, it’s going to be the big, plus elephant in the room. They’re getting a glimpse at what it would be like to have a kid together. It seems silly, but she’s almost scared to let her mind wander.

She goes over it in her head quietly in the car. It’s not a big deal, she reminds herself. They’ll just look after Brian, have some fun, and put him to bed at a reasonable hour. And most importantly, under no circumstances will daydreaming about their future be allowed. Ever.

They reach Joe and Chloe’s house and Matt takes her hands as they reach the front door. She’s been quiet the rest of the car ride, ever since he kissed her on the cheek. She’d gotten so preoccupied reminding herself not to get ahead of herself tonight that it’d picked up his attention, but she gives his hand a gentle squeeze as they wait for Joe and Chloe to answer the door and he smiles, thinking nothing of her quiet mood.

“Hey,” Joe greets them when the front door finally opens. His face is beaming, and it really dawns on Sylvie how excited he must be for tonight. He and Chloe haven’t been out of the house for weeks, never spending more than five minutes alone without baby Brian Cruz. “Come on in.”

Sylvie flashes a friendly smile and lets go of Matt’s hand to step inside, looking around the place. Chloe’s putting her earrings on in the mirror, preparing the finishing touches of her date night outfit. Which, in Sylvie’s opinion, is gorgeous. Saying her friend looks amazing is almost an understatement. “Don’t you look fancy,” Sylvie teases from behind Chloe. “Sylvie! We’re so glad you two were able to make it,” Chloe cheers, leaning in to give Sylvie a tender hug and then doing the same for Matt. “Thank you so much for this. We owe you one.” “Don’t worry about it,” she hears Matt speak. “I think we’re both just happy to lend a helping hand, right?”

He looks to Sylvie with raised eyebrows, and she nods in agreement. “Yes, we really are. You two seriously deserve some time off.”

“You’re right about that,” Joe nods. “I thought being a firefighter would mess with my sleep schedule but it’s nothing compared to this kid.”

“Where is Brian anyway?” She asks.

“He’s in his crib right now, hang on,” Chloe tells her, stepping into the room next to them and pulling Brian out of his crib. The little boy sits perfectly against his mother’s chest, his feet dangling slightly. He’s wearing a onesie too, the light blue fabric covered with little robots. It’s quite possibly the cutest thing Sylvie’s ever seen and she has to fight back the urge to coo at him.

“Say hi to Auntie Sylvie and Uncle Matt, sweet cheeks!” Chloe coos to her son, grabbing his tiny hand and waving it at Sylvie and Matt for him. He can’t talk yet but he flashes a smile at them and it melts Sylvie’s heart. Man. Tonight is going to be amazing and yet so tough to get through. “So there’s fresh formula in the fridge but we just fed him so he should be fine for the night. His toys are all laid out on the floor if he needs tummy time and we normally put him to bed at 7:00. If there’s anything you guys need or any questions, just call us. We’re bringing our phones with us and the number for the pediatrician is on the counter just in case,” Joe explains to them.

“Got it,” Sylvie nods.

“Ok,” Chloe nods to herself, handing Brian over to Sylvie. The small boy fits just as nicely against Sylvie’s chest but he tries to turn his head as soon as she holds him, urgently looking for his mom. Chloe stands back, staring at Brian nervously. “I gotta go now, buddy. I’ll see you later.”

“It’s harder than you expected, isn’t it?” Sylvie asks her, already well aware of the answer. Leaving your kid with a sitter is tough, she imagines, especially when it’s your first kid.

“Yes,” Chloe admits, slightly pained. “I know it’s only a few hours but we’re going to miss him.”

“We’ll take good care of him, we promise,” Matt assures them, already moving closer to Sylvie to see Brian and let his tiny hand wrap around his thumb. “Thanks again you guys,” Joe nods appreciatively.

“Of course, anytime. Now go on, have fun, you crazy kids,” Sylvie teases.

“Alright, bye!” Chloe keeps waving until their front door is fully shut, leaving Matt and Sylvie in total silence.

Matt glances at Sylvie up and down, taking in the sight of her with baby Brian, and something in his eye lights up. It sends a warm tingling down Sylvie’s spine, but he just nods at her. “He really is a cute baby.”

“I know,” she raves instantly. “Look at how small his little hands are!”

“You’re just so tiny, aren’t you, little buddy?” Matt talks to Brian, wiggling his hand.

Brian giggles, his arms wiggling amusedly at Matt’s gesture. He looks over at the front door though, waits expectantly for Chloe and Joe to come back in. A few seconds pass where Matt and Sylvie watch as Brian stares at the door. It’s almost as if everything that happens next happens in slow motion. They watch as his face turns back to Sylvie, his twinkling eyes turning sad as his face sours. The wail comes next, matched with flailing arms as Sylvie feels his body shaking in her arms.

He’s not hungry, Joe said he and Chloe just fed him. And he can’t be tired since they haven’t done anything with him yet. So really, he just misses his parents. It’s not all that abnormal for a kid his age but it still hurts Sylvie’s heart, watching this little guy wail in her arms.

“Oh no,” she blurts out, slightly panicked. “Shh, it’s okay! We’re right here. I know you miss your mommy and daddy but they’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He continues to wail, sticking his hand out and wiggling to try and get to the front door. “Who am I kidding, you don’t understand what that means,” she mumbles under her breath, beginning to bounce him.

His wailing isn’t as shrill after the bouncing starts but he’s still crying at a volume comparable to 61’s sirens. She tries her best to calm him down but it seems unsuccessful. Dammit. Sylvie and Matt aren’t five minutes into this night and Brian’s already crying.

The reminder that Matt’s there is enough to snap her out of it. Only she turns to where he was not five seconds ago and he’s gone. “Matt?”

“I’m in here, just a second,” he calls from the family room. Sylvie moves down the hallway away from the entrance to find him. When she does, he’s hovering over a small, wooden chest and rifling through it. Brian’s still crying as she pats his back and offers soothing hushes.

“I think we just broke Cruz and Chloe’s baby,” Sylvie tries teasing, her face still making a worried wince. “Shh, it’s okay Brian. You’re okay, it’s okay.” Matt grabs something out of the chest, moving to close the space between him, Sylvie and Brian. “Here,” he tells her, revealing the little, plush blue and green robot in his hand. “I figured a toy might distract him.”

“Right, good idea,” she nods, turning to meet baby Brian’s eye again as he grabs a fistful of her hair. “Uncle Matt has some of your toys, you want to play with them?”

Sylvie turns him so he can see Matt, who extends the soft plush robot and wiggles it playfully.

“I bet you like that one, huh? He even matches your pyjamas,” Matt points out.

Brian instantly becomes mesmerized with the toy, his eyes sparkling as they follow it’s trail as it moves in the air. His cheeks are still glossy with tears but he sticks out a hand to clumsily grab at the toy. The shift from upset beyond consolation to pure fascination with something so simple as a toy robot is enough to astound Sylvie-- and, admittedly, send relief washing through her body.

As soon as her shoulders relax, she feels Brian relax in her arms too. He even smiles as she wipes his cheeks clean of the tears, pointing towards the toy and cooing incoherently. Matt keeps wiggling the toy and bobbing his head along with the toy, eventually handing it to Brian and letting him play with it on his own. He squishes the robot’s rectangular head, then mimics Matt’s movements with it and moves it around in the air. Sylvie watches in happy surprise. She’s about to move her head to send a bewildered yet appreciative look at Matt but when her eyes look up, he’s already looking at her. There’s a slight twinkle in his eye, similar to the one Brian had when he saw the robot. It’s nothing but pure wonder, and her heart skips a beat.

Up until now, she’d been trying to keep herself from getting ahead of herself. Apart from the logical reasons of it being really early and soon on in their relationship, Sylvie also just doesn’t want to freak him out with baby fever. But he’s staring at her as she coddles Brian, a smile dancing over his face, and it seems pointless.

Maybe she’s not the only one picturing them doing this with a kid of their own.

Maybe, he’s just as much of a daydreamer as she is.

********

Matt’s not trying to give himself away too much. He swears he isn’t.

But damn. If Sylvie with this little Cruz baby isn’t the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, he doesn’t know what is. It’s been an hour since they arrived at the Cruz residence. An hour since they’d walked in and immediately had to deal with a screaming, crying baby Brian. Thankfully, they mellow out pretty quickly after that. Matt and Sylvie pull out as many toys as they can and try to distract him. His tears dissipate as they play around, keeping the young child preoccupied.

Sylvie, as promised, even starts dancing and singing Wiggles songs. Matt started out singing and dancing with her but Brian had tried crawling away while they were both up so he’s now sitting next to Brian, who’s on his stomach on his mat in the family room propping himself up to watch the show as Sylvie keeps dancing and singing.

“The Big Red Car rolls along the street

And to all the people that we meet, we like to say hello

Say hello! To the people that we meet!”

Sylvie sings, spins around, and does comically dramatic gestures as Matt claps along with Brian, making a few sound effects himself to help out with the number. The songs are too catchy not to sing along, so he does. That just seems to make the baby giggle even more, and he tries crawling over closer towards Sylvie.

She finishes the song and does small but amusing jazz hands, practically out of breath. “That was exhausting,” she exhales heavily. “How’s that for entertainment, little guy?”

He coos and waves his arms around in the air, trying to cheer for her. Matt chuckles and claps along himself, keeping an expectant eye on Brian.

The baby keeps wagging his arms though, and when they realize he’s asking for an encore Sylvie leans over with her hands on her knees in exhaustion. “You want more of this?” She addresses Brian, not expecting a response. “We’ve been at this for nearly an hour, I’m getting more of a workout from this than from Foster’s infamous spin classes. How is he not more exhausted?”

“Different sleep schedule, I guess,” Matt shrugs. “Don’t worry, you can tap out and I’ll take over.”

“More romantic words have never been spoken,” she replies teasingly with a relieved groan. She wipes at her brow and moves to find space on the mat but instead of the encore, Brian turns to her.

“Oh,” Matt says. “Looks like he doesn’t want more singing and dancing after all.”

The young boy starts reaching for Sylvie’s hair, grasping at the blonde strands that fall just above her shoulders. He manages to find a fistful but Sylvie pulls him in closer so he can grab her hair without yanking it. “I think he likes you,” Matt points out with a grin. “Good, my plan is working,” she teases, resting her head ever so lightly on Brian’s head. “I’m hoping to work my way up to his favourite aunt by the time he’s two. I’m going to be your favourite, aren’t I, little man?”

Brian coos in her lap, smiling wide at Sylvie. But he looks over at Matt and reaches out from Sylvie’s hold to grab at Matt’s hand too. Matt’s heart melts.

“He seems to like you too,” Sylvie adds.

“Yeah, I’ve never met a baby with so much trust in people,” Matt replies. “And so many robot toys too. What’s up with that?” He gestures at the spread of robot toys they arranged in a row on Brian’s mat.

“I think Joe was hoping he’d get him interested in tech stuff like Otis was,” Sylvie explains, a wistful sigh falling over her. Matt gets serious too-- not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of their dear, fallen friend. Thinking of where Brian Cruz gets his name from is always a sharp reminder of Otis, and this new piece of information doesn’t make it any better.

Matt throws Sylvie a sympathetic look, which is returned. There’s nothing much to say to that, nothing but to let there be a gentle and solemn moment of silence as Brian wiggles in Sylvie’s criss-crossed legs on the floor.

The silence is broken when he crawls out of Sylvie’s lap, slowly finding his way to Matt. Somehow, some way, he can sense Matt’s heavy heart and reaches to grab his hand. Brian doesn’t try to lift it, just puts one hand around Matt’s thumb and one around his pinky. He looks up at Matt, his eyes twinkling energetically.

“I bet your mom and dad tell you all sorts of stories about Uncle Otis, don’t they?” Matt asks as he lifts Brian into the air. He giggles, waving his arms and toes in his little onesie. Matt knows the kid can’t talk yet but he takes that as a yes. When Matt brings him back down from the air, he presses a kiss to the kid’s forehead and pulls back with the small smack of his lips. It makes Brian laugh even more.

Man. He really is a cute kid. Maybe Severide was right, maybe Matt’s already feeling that little pipe dream of his coming back. Because he’s sitting there with this tiny little kid in his arms, having the time of his life as Sylvie watches them amusedly, and it feels like he’s getting a glimpse at their future. The idea of a family, one with someone he loves as much as Sylvie, feels so right. It’s enough to send a warm and electric feeling throughout his body.

“This is fun,” Matt admits to her, meeting her eye with a hesitant but hopeful gaze.

Sylvie pulls her lip in between her teeth, fighting a smile. “Yeah, it is,” she nods. “It’s nice, I’m glad you offered to tag along. It’s like a little test run.”

“Test run?” Her eyes widen slightly and her cheeks heat up ever so slightly, to the point where Matt thinks he imagined it for a second. “I-- I mean, for babysitting,” she backtracks, shaking her head. “You know, if Joe and Chloe decide somewhere down the line that they need more nights out.”

Matt’s heart skips a beat.

Sylvie’s a terrible liar. She knows it, he knows it, all of 51 knows it. He can tell when she’s fibbing. She gets all flustered, fumbles her words just like she is now. Only now, he can see right through it and it excites him beyond comparison. He can see it in her eyes: she’s been thinking about kids just as much as he has.

“Right,” Matt chuckles lightly, going along with it. “For babysitting.”

She knows he can see right through him and sucks in a sharp breath. She looks more hesitant than he does now. “I don’t know, a kid or two might be nice somewhere down the line,” she admits nervously. “Right?”

“It would,” he replies softly with a smile. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it once or twice tonight.”

“Really?” When Matt nods, she smiles and her shoulders relax.

“Well Severide said I should probably keep that to myself but I don’t care.”

“I don’t want you to keep it to yourself,” she tells him firmly but kindly. “You, Matt Casey, are always allowed to share what you see in our future with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods happily. “I guess this test run isn’t so bad then, is it? If we’re on the same page about things.”

“No, it isn’t.” Her eyes light up and it’s all the confirmation Matt needs that he’s not alone in his baby fever. Their eyes stay fixed on each other, a soft and exciting tension washing over them.

The moment, however, is interrupted by Brian. He’s still in Matt’s arms but Matt suddenly hears what is probably the quietest, cutest yawn he’s ever heard come from Brian’s mouth.

“It’s getting late,” Sylvie realizes.

“Yeah, his bedtime was…” Matt checks the clock and his eyebrows immediately shoot up. “Twenty minutes ago?”

Sylvie looks at the baby in Matt’s arms, surprised. “You really had a lot of energy tonight, didn’t you? You were dancing past your bedtime, little buddy!” “Well I don’t blame him, your performance was very entertaining,” Matt muses. “Maybe a little too good,” she realizes with a giggle. “Come on, let's put him in the crib.”

“Aw come on,” Matt pleads. “Just a few more minutes? I don’t think he wants to move.”

“You are a bad influence, Matt Casey.” Sylvie shakes her head amusedly. She soaks in the sight though and can’t resist. Brian is draped over Matt's chest, his head now resting on his shoulder as his eyes flutter tiredly. Matt’s hand covers the little boy’s entire back, rubbing circles on it gently as he stabilizes the boy. Sylvie bites her lip for the second time that night and Matt knows she’s going to concede. “He does seem to be comfortable there though,” she counters reluctantly.

“Very comfortable,” he corrects her. What can he say? He just wants to sit in this little fantasy of his for a little longer. He so rarely lets himself hope like this that it feels almost necessary to extend this for as long as possible. Besides, Brian Cruz is adorable, it’d be crazy if he didn’t think of a kid of his own-- at least a little-- while he’s here. “I, however, am not.”

“Well here, come up to the couch. That’ll be more comfortable for the both of you,” she tells him, her voice now hushed and soothing so as to calm Brian down and not interrupt his process of slowly falling asleep.

Matt carefully gets up and shifts onto the couch, Brian still in his arms. He leans back and lets Brian sprawl out against his chest. The boy is light, no more than 15 pounds, but it’s still enough to put a light pressure on Matt’s chest.

He doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s the opposite. He loves it.

Sylvie stands up too, clearing the toys off the floor as Matt watches Brian’s breathing, the rise and fall of the small boy’s chest against his. It’s weirdly soothing and he soon feels his breathing match Brian’s, his eyes fighting to stay open. The singing and dancing and playing around really took the energy out of both of them.

When she’s done, she looks down at the two fatigued boys, smiling gently at the sight before curling up next to Matt on the couch. She holds Brian’s hand with her index and her thumb, and runs a soft hand over his head, before Matt’s arm wraps around her shoulder and she tucks her head in the nape of his neck.

“That’s better,” Matt beams, a tired smile on his face. He moves to press a kiss to Sylvie’s forehead.

“Much better,” she agrees quietly. “But we shouldn’t stay like this forever. He’ll need to go to his crib soon.”

“We’ll put him there soon,” he tells her. “Just five more minutes, babe…”

********

Wake up.

She feels those words ring through her body like an alarm. It sends the lights in her brain slowly turning back on as she eases into consciousness.

The first thing she sees, just barely and surrounded by a tired blur in her vision, is Matt. Brian’s still on his chest, both of them sleeping soundly. She smiles to herself, noting how peaceful her boyfriend looks in this position. Everything feels so warm. She’s cuddled up next to him, he’s lying with the baby. It all seems so picture perfect. She revels in it, if only for a moment.

She looks up and realizes it’s been twenty minutes since they’d fallen asleep— and Matt had promised only five. For a minute, she considers waking him up and telling him to bring Brian to his crib. She decides against it though, choosing instead to cuddle back into him and relax.

Joe and Chloe are going to be back any minute now. But she’ll be damned if she doesn’t soak every minute of this moment in. Before they’d figured things out and gotten together, Sylvie had scarcely allowed herself to feel things for him, nevermind daydream about the life they could have. But she looks at them, sees how truly good and comfortable Matt is with Brian, and can’t stop now. It’s addicting, dreaming about her future with Matt Casey. She intends to chase that feeling like it’s her only fix, especially since now she knows he’s thought about it too. Her dreams are his; theirs.

To Sylvie, that makes for a pretty good test run.

She falls back into Matt’s embrace, the three of them dozing off. They don’t wake up again until Joe and Chloe come back.

It’s the first night Brian Cruz gets a full night’s worth of sleep.

#CÍARA I DID IT I finished it haha #cíara tag #abby writes #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey

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jaehyunsuh · 4 years ago

Text

nct u(make a wish) reaction to: finding their s/o asleep at the dinner table (w tearstains) and remembering it was your anniversary after showing up late

REQUESTS ARE: OPEN

MASTERLIST

please go to the ask box to send your requests, opinion or questions♡ you can interact as much as you want!

Taeyong is the softest :( I feel like he is a really giving person and celebrating special occasions with his s/o is something he would like to do because he can buy an even more special gift, do something cool, maybe even make a so g for them, just something cool and different from what he always does. He would make a mental countdown for your anniversary so he would never feel insecure that he is going to forget, but this time he was a really busy week, full of schedule, coming home at 3 am just to sleep and that’s it, that week was so tiring that all he was thinking about was talking to you and sleeping, that’s it. He comes to the apartment that you both share and finds you sleeping at the table with tear stains and a whole dinner set up on the table. He open his eyes in shook wondering what happened to you and that’s when it hits him, it was your anniversary! he holds his head in shook and feels frustrated, he feels so bad that he didn’t even text you a ‘happy anniversary’.

He quickly goes to the his room and picks up the necklace that affortunately bought for this date a month ago, and heads back to the dinner table.

“Y/n, wake up love.” He says while touching your back softly.

“Hey.” You say faking a smile while opening your eyes.

“Y/n, it was our anniversary today and I totally forgot, I’m so sorry.” He sounds upset.

“Yes, I could notice.” You say.

“I was really busy, but look! I have something for you.” He takes a little box out of his jacket pocket, he opens it showing a beautiful necklace with a T on it.

“It’s so beautiful Taeyong!” You smile feeling happy.

“I’m glad you like it, I have one as well.” He says while showing you his necklace with your initial on it.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You him a peck on the lips.

“I love you.” He says kissing you back.

Doyoung

I think he definitely likes to do special stuff for his s/o and take tons of pics and videos to remember the moments and stuff. Ig he saw you there in that situation he would instantly get really really worried thinking what happened to you, but when he sees you all dressed up, with flowers in the table and notices that you cooked stuff he would feel extremely terrible and guilty, he wouldn’t be sure if he should wake you up or let you sleep or take you to your room, he would just be stressed.

He decides to wake you up. “Y/n, please wake up, I want to talk to you.” He says. You open your eyes and find your boyfriend sitting in the chair next to you.

“Y/n, I’m really sorry for today, I totally forgot. I was so busy this whole time that I didn’t planned anything.” He looks upset.

“Yes, I can see that.” You say disappointed.

“I’m so sorry, really.” He says grabbing your hands.

“It’s okay.” You say.

“But look! We can do something, let’s go to the Han River, eat some chicken, at least be together for an hour.” He shows excitement in his face.

You sigh. “Okay, i’ll accept just for the chicken.” You smile.

“I love you, I promise i’ll never ever forget any date again.” He kisses your forehead.

“I hope you do, I love you.” You laugh

Jaehyun

He seems like he is lowkey romantic or more like caring about special events for his s/o, so when he walks into his apartment and finds you like that he would immediately remember that today was your anniversary, he would feel so bad and disappointed at himself because two weeks ago he was thinking about it and planned to buy you gifts and take you to a nice place without you knowing it. Since the day began and Jaehyun didn’t even texted you, you didn’t mind as much because he had schedule today but later nothing happened so you decided to make dinner for the two of you but it was already 11pm and he didn’t show up so you didn’t even notice and felt sleep on the dinner table crying because your boyfriend didn’t knew what day was today.

“Y/n, Y/n, babe wake up.” He says while shaking you softly.

You open your eyes and see your boyfriend kneeling next to you.

“Hey.” You say

“Honey, I’m so so sorry for not remembering that it was our anniversary today. I was so busy, I had a lot of things in mind, I even made plans for today but I forgot.” He says with puppy eyes.

“I waited for you all night.” You sound upset.

“I know babe, I know, I promise i’ll make it up to you.” He holds your hand and caress it softly.

“Okay.” You say.

“We can go out tomorrow, or we can stay here and cuddle, I’ll cook your favorite dish, I’ll dance if you want me to, whatever you want me to, to make this up.” He says.

“Maybe we should do all of that.” You laugh. “I love you. You are the best.” You smile.

“Me too.” He grabs your chin and proceeds to give you a kiss full of love and you end the night making out in the couch.

Lucas

I see Lucas being all over the place and a last minute type of guy when it comes to important events, but now that he has his s/o he is fully committed to remember every date, every birthday, every important event, he would even put alarms to remember. When he sees you like that would immediately put him in a stress mode, wondering if someone hurt you, if something went wrong at work, if he should fight someone, but then he gets closer to the table and notice the cake that has written ‘Happy Anniversary’ in it, he closes his eyes in frustration and follows to check on his phone wondering why the alarm didn’t make a sound.

“Hey love, I’m here.” He says shaking you softly.

“I waited for you.” You slowly wake up.

“I know baby, i’m sorry, I had a lot of shoots this week, I only could sleep and I forgot to put an alarm.” He says fast and

desperate, making you laugh with the las phrase.

“I know.” You say looking at him.

“Im sorry, we can go out tomorrow night, have a nice dinner, i’ll take to a beautiful restaurant and you can also see the pics from today.” He winks playfully. “How does that sound.” He smiles.

“Sounds good, I’m good with that.” You smile and touch his face softly.

“Great.” He continues to give you a sweet kiss.

Xiaojun

This sweet boy, oh my god! Even if he is 30 years old he is always gonna give me first love vibes, I just feel like he really commits whenever he likes someone, that’s why he is constantly caring with his s/o showering them with gifts and their favorite things and doing cool dates when they have to celebrate something. When he finds you like that in his apartment he just want to hug you and never let you go because he doesn’t know what made you feel like that but he is gonna fight whoever made you feel like that. He tries to investigate what’s going on, that’s when he sees a decorated bag with a little tag that says ‘happy anniversary’, he opens his eyes in shook and punches his forehead with the palm of his hand. He starts thinking how is he gonna fix this? and how was it possible that he would forget something so important for you both?.

You hear a guitar playing and that’s when you realize it’s your boyfriend, it keeps playing and he starts to sing ‘let me love u’ , you wake up and admire the beautiful guy in front of you, but still a little upset.

“I’m sorry.” He says as soon as he is finished.

“It’s okay.” You say and give a simple smile.

“You know it’s not typical for me to forget this type of thing and I’m really sorry, I don’t want to make you feel anymore.” He holds your hands.

“It’s okay, I accept your apology just because I really liked your serenade.” You smile and give him a peck on the lips.

Jaemin

We all know this boy is so romantic and caring, when it comes to celebrating with his s/o he makes a whole event and gives the best gift. Today when he entered his apartment and found you like that felt really weird to him, he stood there for straight 5 mins looking at you and trying to figure out what was going to on, he notices that there are pots with food in the kitchen and that you are also wearing heels and a beautiful dress, he checks his phone and it was your anniversary! it was yesterday technically because now it’s 2am of the next day. He felt really bad for leaving you waiting like that and also making you sad, he didn’t even knew hot to talk to you.

“Sweetie, wake up please.” He says caressing your head. You slowly open your eyes and look at your boyfriend’s face who extremely close to yours.

“Hey.” You say

“I messed up didn’t I?” He gives an embarrassing smile.

“Uhm, yes.” You talk in a monotonous tone.

“I’m sorry baby, I had to do so many thing this week that I didn’t remember anything else.” He looks at you with sad eyes.

“But look, you know that i’ll forever love you and i’ll make every other anniversary really really special, right?” He says in a calm tone, sitting next to you and hugging you from behind.

“Yes.” You give a soft smile.

“Would you forgive me them.” He says while doing aegyo in a cute way.

“Yes Na Jaemin, I do.” You laugh.

“Thank you.” He continues to do aegyo and winks at you.

Shotaro

this adorable ball of cuteness, the softest boy ever, I see him buying the prettiest and cutest stuff for his s/o on their birthday, christmas, valentines day, and obviously, their anniversary, things like teddy bears and cute cups or matching hoodies, just the most adorable stuff. When he arrives home after a long day of practice he gets surprised finding a girl in a cute outfit apparently sleeping on his diner table, when he looks closely he realizes it’s his s/o, he is confused about what they are doing there. He gets closer and notices the tear stains, and he gets worried, but when he sees a gift on the table he realizes it was your anniversary today, he starts feeling really sad because he didn’t remembered this at all, suddenly he remembers the matching cups that he bought 2 months ago when he went to Japan, so he gave cheers to himself to try to feel better.

“Baby, are you awake?” He says caressing your hair. You open your eyes slowly and see you him standing next to you.

“Hi.” You say with no emotion

“Y/n, I forgot that it was an special day today, and I’m genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad and I never want that to happen again.” He says in a sincere tone.

“I waited here with your gift and you didn’t even call.” You look away.

“I know, and like I said I’m sorry, but look what I have.” He says excited while showing you the matching cups that were hiding behind his back.

“Wow, this are so cute, when dis you get it.” You say happy admiring the cute cups.

“The last time I went to Japan, I was supposed to give you this and something else but we know how that went.” He looks to the floor.

“You are the sweetest, I forgive you.” You caress his cheek and leave a kiss. You both smile at each other.

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dulce-pjm · 3 years ago

Text

cheek to cheek

request for taehyung from @kidcoredreamz (thanks bae!!)

listen to “cheek to cheek” by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong and “i get along without you very well” by chet baker for maximum effect

make your own request here using these prompts!

cheek to cheek

word count: 3.1k

genre: fluff, arrangedmarriage!au

summary: it’s night like these that you wish things were different

Taehyung is guaranteed, always has been.

From the minute your tiny fingers could interlock with his, you were dragging each other around the mansions and garden parties, sneaking off to corners with desserts and chocolate milk and getting sugar rushes together. Time with Taehyung comes easy and passes quickly, the hours with him condensing into minutes and the few minutes without him stretching into lonesome years.

You’ve seen him through thick and thin. Through acne flare ups and awkward conversations and never-ending games of tag. You’ve seen him pick his nose, cry over spilled milk (or, in his case, a broken remote-control race car), get caught sneaking out. You’ve comforted him while he felt broken, laughed until your sides were aching. You know his ins and outs, his rough edges and corners, his soft spots he tries to hide.

Marrying him should be a blessing.

To spend the rest of your life with the person who’s stuck by your side throughout everything is a future some can only dream about. To have someone understand you so perfectly, to understand them like no one else will. It should be a blessing.

It should be.

The digital clock reads 11:57 when he knocks on the window.

You’ve always had a weird thing about having a room on the ground floor, when possible. It’s closest to the front door, in case of an emergency. And there’s no risk of tripping downstairs when you’re sleepily moving around in the night. And, most importantly, it’s easy to sneak out when you need to.

While you’re a little startled, you’re nothing close to afraid. You know exactly what face to expect as you throw open the sheer curtains, silken pajama sleeves hanging over your fingers and eyes swollen from sleep.

The moonlight makes his silvery hair seem otherworldly, a soft glow coming off of his locks. A few months ago, you’d been more than opposed to his sudden need to dye his hair, but you really shouldn’t have been surprised. The odd color just makes him more ethereal.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, opening the bay window and letting the frigid air slam you in the face. Your eyes comb over the rest of his figure, your brows furrowing at his dark hoodie and sweats, a black hoodie crumpled in one of his hands. Anyone else would have assumed he was an intruder.

“Visiting my fiancée?” he tries, flashing a lopsided grin. “Thought we could sneak out again. For old times’ sake.”

“We’re not kids anymore, Tae,” you huff.

“That doesn’t mean we have to be boring.”

You cross your arms as a chill runs down your spine from the cool breeze. “It’s midnight. I’m in my pajamas.”

“Well, then you better change.” You stare at him indignantly for a moment, wondering just how much of a doormat he thinks you are.

“Please?” he adds, batting his lashes teasingly. “I have a surprise. You’ll like it, promise.”

“But will I like it more than I’d like crawling back into bed? Can’t it wait until morning?”

“No. Let’s be a little spontaneous, like we used to be.”

You won’t lie. The soft duvet, still warm, is calling to you strongly. You know that as soon as your head hit the pillow again, you’d be out. Sleeping like a baby.

But it’s Taehyung’s half-assed pout and an unfortunately strong curiosity that compels you to slip on the nearest t-shirt and sweats for the designated “not-dirty-enough-for-the-basket-yet” chair and climb out the window with a sigh.

“It’s Dad’s latest passion project. It was my suggestion, but I think he’s enjoying it more than me.”

You’re enjoying yourself more than you’d like to admit, too. You aren’t sure what urged Taehyung or his wealthy, CEO father to pour their time and effort into a run down museum, but you sure are glad they did. It’s like walking through a ghost town, dust coating the walls and old exhibits. Only some of the lights work and there’s renovation supplies littering the floors. You and Taehyung stick to each other’s sides in the poorly lit areas to avoid tripping and meeting a sorry end via paint roller.

This certainly isn’t the first time you’ve been out late with Taehyung. When you were in high school and determined to rebel against your parents’ constricting ways, the two of you often found yourselves roaming the city and laughing much too loudly during a time when you should have been catching up on sleep or homework.

Being with Taehyung was never too much of a risk. His parents always fell victim to your innocent smiles and mumbled apologies, while yours believed Taehyung could do no wrong. After they yelled and scolded and nearly tore their hair out, soon they were only shaking their heads and smiling at each other knowingly. It was hard to be mad for long when things were really working even better than planned.

“What do you think it means?” Taehyung asks as the two of you stare at the large mural. It’s filled with wide strokes of color, abstract shapes littering the foreground with seemingly no pattern or reason. You really can’t even see the whole thing, when Taehyung turned on the lights for this room, only two or three managed to flicker on.

You tap your chin, deep in thought. “Well, the red is clearly...” You tilt your head. “It’s clearly having a battle with the yellow. They represent good and evil. And the purple in the back is hope.” Taehyung tilts his head in the same direction as yours, brows knit in concentration.

“You really got all that from... that?” You snort.

“Nah, I just bullshitted it. I have no idea what it means.” Taehyung giggles, shoving you in the side. You stumble, yelping dramatically and nearly crashing into a probably very expensive bust of some historical figure you wouldn’t recognize.

“I was being serious, Y/N.” You laugh at his pouty expression, resisting the urge to poke him in the side in revenge. You don’t want to start a fight you know you can’t win.

After trying to make sense of the abstract mural for a few moments, you move out of the art exhibits on to the historical section, looking at the old skeletons and fossils and relics from years and years ago.

It’s fun trying to guess the names of the different dinosaur skeletons, cackling obnoxiously at all the ridiculous things you can combine with “—asaurus.” You take turns reading the puns scattered on the colorful signs throughout the exhibit, groaning at the bad ones and acknowledging the okay ones with a tiny chuckle. You laugh the hardest when Taehyung spots the fake alligators and climbs onto the display, insisting you take his picture so he can look cool.

“Tae, you can clearly tell you’re inside!” He scoffs.

“Just take the picture!” he insists. “Don’t I look like Steve Irwin?”

The photos all come out insanely blurry, your arms shaking too much as you try to hold in your giggles.

When you were first told of the arrangement at age sixteen, you cried. You sobbed and you wailed and you screamed and you locked yourself in your room in protest for an entire day. Your parents couldn’t understand it. You loved Taehyung. More than your own family. More than anything else. They loved him too. He was the son of a close friend and a union would benefit business, certainly.

When you eventually came out of your bedroom, you refused to talk about it. You only mumbled that you were sorry and your parents knew better than to ask questions and so, that was the end of it.

“Taehyung!” you shout, grabbing his wrist and dragging him across the antiques exhibit. You’d both already tried (and failed) at using the dusty typewriter and moved on to playfully arguing about who should pose with the guillotine when your eyes locked onto an item across the room.

“What is it?” he laughed, stumbling after you, all smiles.

“It’s a phonograph,” you explain. It appears in near-perfect condition despite the circumstances, the brass horn shiny and golden like it’d been made yesterday. “You can play records on it.”

He nods in understanding. “We should try it.” The idea is tempting, but your hopes for it working are fairly low. “There’s already a record on it, just try to get it to play.”

You lean forward, fingers mentally crossed as you fiddling with the needle and try winding the crank. The gears squeak terribly inside the main compartment, making you cringe. But you keep winding it, stepping back and squeezing your eyes tight in anticipation.

When you’re met with silence instead of music, you sigh in defeat. “Well, I guess that’s alright, it’s pretty old anyway, let’s—”

Suddenly, the machine fizzles to life, record slowly turning on the turntable and a jazzy tune carries through the air. Taehyung cheers, clapping on the shoulder.

“You did it!” Your smile quickly stretches into your cheeks, exhaustion long forgotten as you relax in the nice sound, soft piano and pleasant singing filling your ears.

You begin subconsciously swaying to song, fingers drumming to the beat absentmindedly on your thighs. Taehyung seems to know the song, quietly singing a few lyrics every one and a while.

“Let’s dance,” he says suddenly. Your stomach tightens.

“Let’s not,” you reply quickly, arms hugging your sides. You stare ahead, trying to focus on the song rather than the person beside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him lean slightly closer, lolling his head to the side.

“Why not?”

You sigh. You don’t really have an answer.

Your hand finds his, fingers interlocking as you let Taehyung guide you out into a relatively clearly spot, tennis-shoe clad feet shuffling lightly to the music. You’ve danced with him in other settings, with many more eyes watching. You’re normally dressed perfectly, not a hair out of place and a thick layer of makeup coating your eyes and cheeks.

“Remember that time your mom made us take dance lessons when we were twelve?” Taehyung asks, a glint in his eye.

You scoff. “I remember the part where you gave me laxatives right before the first lesson, yeah.” Taehyung can barely keep his grip on you, moving his other hand to your waist in an attempt to steady himself as his shoulders shake with laughter.

“I really thought it was regular tea, I promise.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did! I thought we were being all fancy like our parents and drinking fancy tea like fancy rich people.”

“Then why didn’t you drink the laxative tea, huh?”

“I don’t like tea. I just put milk in my teacup and hoped you wouldn’t notice.” You snort, hands settled all to comfortably on his shoulders as the smooth voice croons and echoes off of the walls.

It’s intimate. There’s nowhere else to look but his eyes as he places a hand on your waist, pulling you closer with a soft smile. The room feels warmer, his breath barely skimming across your face at the close proximity.

It forces you to think about the things you’d much rather keep inside.

This should be nice. It should be normal and romantic and sweet, to be slow-dancing with your fiancée. Your smile should be light and endeared and love-struck, not forced and fake.

There’s a heavy pang in your heart as you remember. Remember how much love him. How much you care. How much you want to hold him close, press your lips on his without a single bit of hesitance.

But you can’t do those things, knowing the things you do. To Taehyung, this marriage is a convenience. It’s a way to please his parents and strengthen his business connections and do it all with his best friend. He’s always been perfectly content with the arrangement, perfectly content to marry for everything but love.

And how are you supposed to feel, wanting to marry him for the very thing he doesn’t feel for you?

He’s all you’ve ever wanted. You would have left this life a long time ago, but it would mean sacrificing him. You’re too selfish to do that. You want him all to yourself, every part that you can get.

You’ve seen every side of him, the weird and the sad and sweet. You want it all. But you’ll never have it.

You wish it were real. That this were a romantic night away, that you’d wake up in the morning all tangled in his arms. It’s this intimacy that you crave but can never enjoy, not when you know it’s all fake.

And he knows you too. Knows something is up when that little knot between your brows forms and your eyes grow just a little glassy.

“What’s wrong?” You quickly straighten your spine, blinking away any tears pricking at your eyes.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” But Taehyung knows. He leans forward slightly, dark eyes piercing through your very soul. You gulp as you feel his body heat on your own skin, releasing your hands from his shoulders in your panic.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you breathe. Your gaze falls as you step back, the music tapering off as the phonograph finally gives out and the moment is fully broken.

But instead of letting you slip away, his grip tightens, look growing desperate.

“Wait! Just a second.” You can see him itch to run his hand through his hair, but his arms don’t leave you. “You’ve been acting so weird lately. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You furiously shake your head.

“No, that’s not it. I just—” You stop yourself before too many words spill out and you say something you can’t take back.

When you don’t elaborate, Taehyung’s face falls further. “Seriously, what is it? Am I really making you that upset?”

“No, I—”

“Is it because I dragged you out so late? I’m sorry, it’d just been so long since I saw you and I missed you—”

“Just shut up!” you cry, shoving him off of you for good. A few tears wet your cheeks and your face heats with embarrassment. “It’s because you pull this kind of stupid, romantic shit that makes me love you even more than I already do but I know you don’t see us that way.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, but you suppose since it’s all on the table, you’ll keep going. “I know this is all just fun and games and easy to you but it fucking hurts, Taehyung. You can’t lead people on like this. You can’t do this shit and expect me not to feel something for you.”

The phonograph crackles in the corner of the room, unable to play pretty tunes or sweet songs anymore. It sounds restless and broken and unpleasant to hear.

“Maybe I wanted you to feel something for me.” You whip your head up, cheeks still hot from mortification and anger.

“What?”

“You heard me. I wanted you to love me. Because I love you.”

When you kiss him, it’s like a breath of fresh air. It’s hungry and rushed as your fingers gently tug on his hair and his palm is splayed on the small of your back, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible.

At some point, you end up pressed against the wall, euphoric as he trails pecks down your jaw and neck incessantly, like he’s trying to make up for every time he wished he’d kissed you. You whine when he parts his lips, tugging on his hair as he fastens your body against him. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he always keeps in his pocket. The habit had ruined a pair of his dress pants before when it melted all in the pocket, but he’s always been too stubborn about chapped lips to learn his lesson and carry it elsewhere. You can smell his shampoo and the faint scent of his cologne. Everything that fills your senses is him and only him.

You feel a few tears sting at the corner of your eyes but you ignore them, gasping for breath between long kisses, a few giggles escaping you when you see you’re not the only one lightheaded.

After what feels both like hours and seconds, Taehyung pulls away, his lips swollen and pink, but stretched into that adorable grin that hasn’t changed since you were kids.

“Sorry I didn’t say something earlier,” he murmurs. “I never could find the right words to say it and I knew it’d make everything awkward if you didn’t feel the same way.” You laugh mirthlessly, cupping his face gently with your hands.

“Same here.” You sigh. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

“Guess so.”

It's a little frightening to stare at him like this. You’ve always held your guard tightly whenever you felt even close to your feelings being compromised, but that weight you’d carried for so long as suddenly detached itself from your shoulders, leaving you free floating. Yes, it’s like floating untethered through the air or being caught in the ocean with your life jacket. It’s scary and daunting and unknown. But it’s nice to know that you’ll have Taehyung’s hand tightly holding yours the whole way.

“Since I confessed first, I think you should pose for a picture with the guillotine.” Taehyung’s intent stare breaks, his face crinkling in disgust.

“But I kissed you first.”

“Only because I said I loved you.”

“If you really loved me, you’d pose with the guillotine and I could pose like I’m the executioner.” Now it’s your turn to be disgusted.

“That’s so fucking morbid, Kim Taehyung.” You smack his arm, but he keeps you against the wall, thigh between your legs as he leans in again.

“Only for you,” he murmurs, planting his lips on yours again.

The scoff about to leave your mouth is caught in your throat as you’re enveloped in his embrace, kissing each other dizzy until you’re certain the sun must be rising soon.

You wouldn’t mind too much if it did, though.

As Taehyung keeps trying to convince you to take stupid photos and explain abstract art to him, you aren’t sure how much a blessing he is. All you really know is that he’s your guarantee, your anchor in this unforgiving world. You aren’t sure where he’ll take you next, what random time he’ll decide is the best for your future adventures. You can’t know what the rest of your life holds, only that he’ll be next to you as long as he can.

And that’s enough for now.

#dulce-pjm: request #kidcoredreamz #taehyung #taehyung drabble #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #this was uh #not supposed to be this long #nice #thank you for the request! i loved your prompt

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feysandfeels · 4 years ago

Note

Which TS songs remind you of the different couples in SJM’s books???

Boy do I ??

You are a blessed soul for asking me this, and know that I adore you.

There is now a part II to this.

Feysand:

Begin Again: “I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does Is break and burn, and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again” Baby Feyre finding that love is not toxic, that love is supportive, that love can be wonderful. “You said you never met one girl who had As many James Taylor records as you But I do” but think of is as “he said he never met a girl who wasn’t afraid of his power, but i do”. Also also “Walked in expecting you'd be late But you got here early and you stand and wave I walk to you” because Feyre’s used to T*mlin’s mediocre ass but Rhys surprised her by being a decent human and treating her with respect, which makes her realize that she was starved for respect and that T*mlin was not giving her what every decent human being should get from the get go from their partner.

Ivy: Feyre slowly falling in love with Rhys, thinking about Rhys in the Spring Court between Night Court visits Also throughout ACOMAF how she battles with her ever growing feelings for the Lord of the Night, while feeling guilty about T*mlin, because they *just broke up*: “Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you” and “I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed He's in the room Your opal eyes are all I wish to see He wants what's only yours”.

End game: I can practically see Rhys singing this in the shower thinking about Feyre, when she decided to work with him and him thinking like “YES THIS HAS TO BE A SIGN”. His reputation precedes him and in rumours he’s knee deep, him and Feyre would be a big conversation, he has enemies, he has heard about her and she has heard about him. He thinks “she’s so dope that he might overdose”. She’s been calling his bluff on all his usual tricks so here’s the truth from his red lips!!!!!

Dress: “Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me Flashback to my mistakes My rebounds, my earthquakes Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me And I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My one and only, my lifeline”. Need I say more? I think not your honor.

Call it what you want: “I said you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” That’s Feyre’s whole arc, I rest my case.

Nessian: the happiness I feel about the fact that these two are together is just enough to make me smile on a Monday

False God - The song literally opens up saying “We were crazy to think Crazy to think that this could work Remember how I said I'd die for you” HELLOOOO?? NESTA THINKING ABOUT THAT SCENE IN ACOWAR?? but also feeling that she’s unworthy of Cassian and that there is no way in hell that he will love her with all that she is.

Don’t Blame Me - The power of this song lies in the I unapologetic- powerful-full on I give myself to you and I will do it over and over again energy it has. And this is the energy that Nesta has for Cassian (even when homegirl really tries to pretend otherwise lol boo you tried). The “through your love I found salvation” religious aspect of Don’t blame me is Nesta, because through Cassian’s love and presence she found the perspective she needed on herself. Also this book was a religious experience for me. Jesus fuck.

Sparks Fly: From Cassian to Nesta, with love. First of all Cassian would be a diehard swiftie (all of the bat boys for that matter, merch a the concert, what will we do if we get invited to the rep room?? fans. Az woud be like the quiet yet “no, speak one ill word of Taylor and that’s your end, she did nothing wrong she was framed and I have evidence”). Second of all “The way you move is like a full on rainstorm And I'm a house of cards You're the kind of reckless that should send me running But I kinda know that I won't get far” That’s him alright, that’s him knowing that Nesta is a force to be reckoned with and he wants nothing nothing but to be in that storm and live within the force of nature that she is. Thirdly “My mind forgets to remind me, your a bad idea You touch me once and it's really something You find I'm even better than you, imagined I would be I'm on my guard for the rest of the world But with you I know its no good And I could wait patiently But I really wish you would”

Elucien: This is an Elucien blog.

Lover - In all honesty wanted to give this song to Feysand, because they are my main otp and this song is the highest of the high from Taylor, but I can’t deny the fact that this song screams Elucien. “With every guitar string scar on my hand” I think is a beautiful parallel for Elain and gardening, “My heart’s been borrowed, and yours has been blue” this speaks of Gr*yson and Jesminda, “I loved you three summers now but I want them all” that’s Lucien speaking ma’am. “Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”, both of them about the bond. “And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me and at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover” we all know Lucien has a mind for dirty jokes and sass and Elain would always save him the sit next to her because he is the one who truly saw her and, in his distance, was the presence she needed while she figured it all out. Finally, The fact that the song has very clear wedding tones I think fits the headcanon, that more than a mating ceremony, Elucien would have a wedding, because it feels like something Elain would feel more comfortable with.

Treacherous -“I can't decide if it's a choice Getting swept away I hear the sound of my own voice Asking you to stay”..... mmmmmm is this or isn’t it Elain getting closer to Lucien, but still wondering if it’s the bond or her, yet nonetheless surrendering to the fact that she wants him to stay. “This slope is treacherous This path is reckless This slope is treacherous And I, I, I like it” Elain doesn’t want an easy love, to simple do as the bond suggests she wants something that has twigs and branches and where she needs to question herself and truly ask what she wants out of life and this relationship. Also the softness of the melody juxtaposed with the vulnerability, brings a soft rawness that is Elain.

King of my heart: Neither of them expected to feel like they could love with all the hope and unapologetic free falling feel characteristic of first loves, yet here we are. They rule their kingdom inside the room because they are discovering their feelings for each other away from prying eyes and people that have expectations on how they should work with the mating bond and all that. “Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury” Again, with the love away from everyone, feeling their world shift around what they are starting to feel for one another. “Is the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending With all these nights we're spending” did we say healing arc through love and support an “not expecting anything to come off this, but I just want to see you well” à la sjm?? I THINK WE DID.

Emorie: I’m working with crumbs here, delicious crumbs that will make a delicious emorie cake, but crumbs nonetheless.. I need more and I need it now.

I think he knows - My girl Emerie crushing hard hard haaaaaaaaard on Mor.

Cruel Summer - “I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard” this is prime PRIME PRIME ANGST, we will get from these two.

Gwynriel: this is an edit because I'm not a hoe for these two (yet...trust me once I see Az heal this is the tag where you will find me) and I did not know which songs might fit them and then when I posted it I was like WAIT WAIT I KNOW.

Gold rush - Gwyn talking herself out of her crush on Az after finding out about the whole necklace and being like “I don’t want a gold rush”.

Daylight - Az is a Taylor hoe first, spymaster second. She just makes him feel things. But in all seriousness “Like daylight It's golden like daylight You gotta step into the daylight and let it go Just let it go, let it goI wanna be defined by the things that I love Not the things I hate Not the things that I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night I, I just think that You are what you love” this is Az healing and being in better place where he can reflect on how he used to relate to love and romantic relationships, he now understands that love is not black and white but golden. He stepped into this notion of love and through it he found a beautiful relationship with Gwyn, he wants to be defined by the love he feels for her and the love he feels for his family, not by the things that haunted him, not by his mistakes, not by his trauma. He is golden, he is daylight, shadows and all he is daylight.

Az + Elain: As a romantic end game they are not my ship, but I do stand by my pre-acosf position that these two would be really good friends

Out of the woods - Where we stand after acosf I say that it is not far fetched that they might hook up and then realize that it’s not for them and that experience helps them access a new part of their healing: “They lost each other, but they found themselves”. The anxiety that this song mirrors is the anxiety of them knowing something doesn’t quite *fit* right, that they are both in turbulent times emotionally and this relationship is not giving them the peace they thought it would. They are paper airplanes, because they know that it’s not the right call for where they are in their own journeys if they want to heal properly and that neither will get what they truly want from the other one. The monsters who turned out to be trees, they are in the woods in this relationship, they were built to fall apart.. are all images that speak of the dynamic we could see of them, they try it doesn’t work and then after, when they are in better places mentally they will look back and be like “we dodge a bullet there didn’t we”.

Bonus: His necklace hanging around her neck, the image is clear there and so is the commentary.

Az + Mor: formerly known as Moriel, the ship that used to reign my heart

Breath - This song is entirely from Az’s perspective once he and Mor talk about, well, everything. This is not how he had planned it, this is not how he wanted this to go, but “people are people and sometimes it doesn’t work out, but it’s killing me to see you go after all this time” referencing letting go of the romantic feelings he had for her. They were a crutch for him and now he has to face life and the things that torment him about it, without the protection and comfort his crush on her offered him. “And we know it's never simple, Never easy Never a clean break, no one here to save me You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand,” regardless of what you all want to think, they do love and know each other but shift in their dynamic will mean an adjustment for both of them... it’s not a clean break. “Never wanted this, never wanna see you hurt Every little bump in the road I tried to swerve”, also Idc about what you all think, Az never never never wanted to hurt Mor, if he knew his behavior was in someway affecting her he would have done something, and I think from the aftermath of him going after Eris on ACOWAR we can see that... also this might allude to him actually knowing that Mor is a lesbian and he has tried to make sure she feels safe around him and knows that he has her back agains the whole world if need be, regardless of her lack of romantic feelings for him.

Feyl*n: honestly who knew there would be so many songs that would fit these two. Such bops for a crappy dude like T*mlin.

Exile - “I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)” He never even tried to learn to read her mind, he never turned things around and she gave so so many signs. The way he looks at Rhys like he’s his understudy, but no sugar he’s the principal actor and you got fired.

Getaway car - and I oop. Because that is essentially what they were both to each other. Feyre needed someone to give her security and financial stability, T*mlin needed someone to break the curse: “It was the best of times the worst of crimes”.

Bad blood - LOOOOOL. They used to be mad love and now they have bad blood.

Tell me why - Imma just leave a collection of quotes here that well allude to them through the first act of ACOMAF: “I took a chance, I took a shot And you might think I'm bulletproof but I'm not You took a swing, I took it hard And down here from the ground, I see who you are” Feyre seeing T*mlin for the abusive person that he is, from the ground.. where his behavior put her. Also “I'm sick and tired of your reasons I got no one to believe in You tell me that you want me, then push me around And I need you like a heartbeat But you know you got a mean streak Makes me run for cover when you're around Here's to you and your temper Yes, I remember what you said last night And I know that you see what you're doing to me Tell me why” The if he loved me, why did he do it and the “it’s not a question of if he loved you but how” conversation she has with Rhys.

I could go on and on forever placing all T-Swift songs around acotar characters, but I think this is getting longer than we all anticipated.. or did we? we all know I am not ✨concise✨. Anywho, thanks for sticking around.

Besos!!

BOOOONUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSS:

Obviously, Invisible String is for all my mated/soon to be mated boos, and I think Peace is a song that can apply to both Feysand and Nessian from Rhys’ and Nesta’s perspectives respectively.

#Feysandfeelsasks #Taylor Swift #Sarah J Maas #SJM #ACOTAR #ACOMAF #ACOWAR #ACOSF #Feysand #Nessian #Elucien #Emorie #not to toot my own horn but I think the Daylight one with Gwynriel is amazing #I will pat myself on the back.#Gwynriel #Moriel #and when I tag moriel i mean friendship moriel

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stevenbasic · 4 years ago

Photo

I stopped, pausing in the lobby, waiting for Melissa to finish locking the door as we closed up for the evening. My last two patients of the day had cancelled, so this was a little earlier-than-usual Friday night; we were walking out together, the last two in the office.

Jesus look at her ass in those shorts.

“So what are you doing this weekend?” she asked, turning towards me, dropping her keys into her little leather purse, “Anything fun..?”

“Who me?” I asked, trying to chuckle and not get caught leering. The black shorts, the tight green tee, the hourglass of her whole figure. The shapeliness of her legs accentuated by her wedge high heels. It was all a brutal challenge, to not just outright stare. “No...no plans,” I answered, “I’ll, uh…”

I lost my tongue as she stepped up to me. Christ she’s tall.

“You’ll what?” she asked, smiling, and then immediately setting on her way.

“I’ll probably be bored,” I said, “n-nothing really going on…” I stepped after her, following in tow as she pushed on the glass door, the exit from the building, out into the parking lot. The breath of fresh air was nice; I’d felt like I’d been swimming in a somnolent miasma of women’s perfume all day, as seemingly the whole staff had decided to wear their new scent, compliments of Abby and Evolution Pharmaceuticals.

“You?” I asked, catching up to her, both of us stepping onto the pavement.

”Well, I’m going to gym from here,” she began, striding confidently towards her car, “then going home, changing, meeting the girls for drinks…”

Struggling to keep up with her long strides, I nearly had to jog next to her. Though now outside in the crisp autumn air, I still found myself caught up in the magnetic wake of this ubiquitous perfume, like it just wafted naturally from her body. Maybe I was being silly but I’d blamed it for the near-constant erections I’d been fighting all day; it had gotten to the point where I had actually googled “treatments for priapism’ earlier.

“But really haha nothing,” she continued, “Hanging out with my cat. Making soup. Probably be posting to insta too much...”

gurk. Suddenly I knew how I’d be spending my next two days. Bed. Lotion. An old t-shirt.

She stopped, abruptly. We’d reached her car, a late-model white beemer, and she smiled down at me, mischievously. She said nothing.

“W-what?” I asked, suddenly nervous as her eyes twinkled in merriment.

Immediately, my face flushed red. Jesus! What was I doing?!? I’d followed her all the way to her car?! Why did I even come out to the parking lot in the first place?? My apartment was just upstairs! I live in the building!!

“Oh, uhhhh…”

“You waiting for me to take you home with me?” she giggled, seeing my consternation.

“No, I, uh, guess I’m just used to…going...” I stammered, “...my c-car.”

She giggled at me again. “I was wondering why you were following me like a little baby duck!” she laughed.

It was...it was like instinct. I’d tagged along with her as if I was a damn duckling.

I took a step back

“No!” she laughed, “Don’t go!” With a <beep beep> the doors to her car unlocked. “You can come with me! Let’s go out to dinner!”

I took another step back, my heart racing.

She laughed again.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be shy…!” she called,as I retreated further, backing away. She saw it; I was obviously confused. “You want me to take you to the gym with me?”

“N-no, I, uh…” I stuttered, actually feeling a bit disoriented.

“Oh my god you’re so cute!” she said, watching me withdraw, shrink away from her in my bewilderment. My cock had swelled in my pants. What was going on with me??

“I, um...,I should get home” I said, turning from her, “have a nice weekend.”

“You too!!” I heard her sing out, “call me if you need me!”

I picked up my pace.

“Don’t get bored!”

Good god...

#Growing Into the Job

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coaxionunlimited · 5 years ago

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Moderately Rare Untamed/MDZS Fic Recs

For when you find fic from sorting by kudos, but you’ve got tag fatigue and you want to read something new. Or, hey, maybe you just want some MDZS fic recs. I’m not here to judge. * means it’s incomplete, for those of you that care.

Obligatory WangXian Category:

crack in the mirror by the_pretzel*: The premise of this one is that Wei Wuxian gets transported from the modern world into a mystery novel series, set in ancient China. But he’s in the body of a character that’s about to get married, and then murdered by his husband. So he breaks the engagement by starting a new one with Lan Wangji and then the first chapter ends. This one is a rollercoaster. WWX soon discovers that his character’s been keeping secrets, and he’s got to figure them out if he wants to get out of this alive. If there was a best drama award for fics, this one would get it. Every chapter has me on the edge of my seat in a different way, as WWX gets out of one mess only to find himself in a bigger one. And that doesn’t even touch on the romance - this is one of the ones where you can just about feel all the pining LWJ is doing, even though it’s WWX pov and he’s oblivious to all of it. Honestly, this fic is the reason this rec list exists.

set your old heart free series by words-writ-in-starlight: Do you like crying? I like crying. That’s why I’m recommending this series to you, so you can cry too! I’m putting this under WangXian, because it’s a story about Lan Wangji and you can’t really have LWJ without the pining, but the real core of the story is the family LWJ has built in Cloud Recesses. Lan Shizui and Lan Xichen, and eventually (because this series starts just after WWX dies - what, I did say I liked crying) Wei Wuxian joins in. There’s even a little Wen Ning! If you like having feelings and also any of the characters I’ve mentioned, like, at all, this series is worth checking out.

The Terminus of Gravity by sealdog: Every fandom needs a space opera au, and sealdog delivers. This is pretty much a strait transportation of the plot of canon to the future and also space, with a side of epistolary and Wen remnants family time, and I’ll stop there because I don’t really want to spoil it. I’m a huge sucker for melancholy and pining and also well written space operas, because even if the premise isn’t your game, it is well written, and it’s worth a read.

Tales from Bunny Mountain by telarna: Lan sect turns into bunnies because of an excess of yin ener- look, we get Lan Zhan as a bunny with bonus Lan Shizui as a bunny. Do you really care why? This is another one of those fics that’s in the WangXian section because if LWJ and WWX are in a fic together, some things just come naturally, but the real draw for me is- well, I’m not going to lie, most of the draw was LWJ as a bunny, but I stayed with the fic for Jin Ling. Good Jin Ling characterization and a lovely, mischievous WWX, who also happens to be a very good uncle. And we have Lan sect as bunnies. Terrible, troublesome bunnies. 11/10, a must read.

through a window softly by impossibletruths: Okay, finally, we finish off the WangXian section with a fic that is actually about WangXian, not just featuring it prominently. through a window softly is a college au where LWJ and WWX are two different types of music major and also neighbors. WWX plays flute and LWJ plays violin and sometimes they stand outside their apartments and play together and pine for the mystery person that’s playing music with them. Look, they fall in love through playing music together, I’ve been looking for a fic like this since WWX first pulled out his flute in canon. There’s misunderstandings and identity porn, if you need some excellent bonus reasons to click this one, and I enjoyed both of those immensely. But what I really, truly loved was WangXian and love and music, and the intersection of all three.

Nie Huaisang: gen edition. Because I have a favorite character and that’s your problem now.

Mistakes We Made by Rachel3*: Nie Huaisang travels back in time and decides to prevent his brother’s death. This is the Nie Huaisang fic for me. I love love love his characterization here. Rachel3 strikes the delicate balance between the sweet kid he once was and the mastermind he grows up to be, making him competent but not an OP genius and sympathetic but not, like, a very good person. The plot is complex and realistic, tackling the sort of complex struggles (both interpersonal and large scale) that time travel fics very rarely bother with. If you've ever been curious about NHS, if you’ve ever even wanted to know him slightly better, this is the fic for you.

The Lost Cause by KouriArashi: AU in which Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao work together to take down Jin Guangshan from the beginning. I recommended the last fic for good characterization. I can’t in good conscience say the same for this fic, but that’s kind of the point. If you’re tired of moderation and realism and just want someone to take the hammer and fix canon already, this is the story for you. It’s hilarious and cathartic, and manages to be totally lighthearted even though it’s 100% about murder and manipulation.

say those words (it’s not forgotten) by paranoid_fridge: This is edging on too well known for this list, but hey! My recs, my rules. And this is an absolute must read for everyone ever. If you haven’t read it, you should, and if you have read it, you can probably stand to do it again. This is a story about Nie Huaisang’s birthday. It’s a slice of life story, and a character study, and a little bit of a feel good hurt comfort fic, and it does all of those things magnificently. The author tags every relationship in this fic except the one braincell trio, which is a shame because it really is a NHS & WWX & JC fic, and if you weren’t craving one of those then why are you in this fandom? Why are you on my reclist?

SangCheng is my OTP and that is also your problem:

best behavior by inberin: I might as well take this space to recommend the whole sangcheng revenge au (dancing ashes under the sun (will cast their shadow when the winds rise) by paranoid_fridge really is the fic for it, but it’s too well known to make this list). The premise is simple, Jiang Cheng lost his golden core, the Wens won, and Nie Huaisang is taking them down from the inside with JC as his right hand man. best behavior makes the list for JC and NHS trolling each other (my favorite part of any sangcheng fic), and the lovely angst of two teenagers who grew up much too fast. The writing style of this one is lovely and poetic, the imagery is on point, and the sangcheng chemistry is the best.

Of Trespassing and Table Slams by LiteralistSin: I’ve put a fluffy fic in every category so far, and it’s SangCheng’s turn. There’s not much plot to this one, just SangCheng trying to outmaneuver each other and NHS being a little shit, and JC getting to win for once. Oh, yeah, and NHS gets kissed on a table. Everything my SangCheng loving heart needs.

everything rynleaf has ever written: I’m putting this one under sangcheng because rynleaf has three sangcheng fics, and I couldn’t pick just one. Really though, you should at least check out What Remains of Meng Yao too, if you like crying. The sangcheng fics all strike the lovely balance between sangcheng tension and trolling each other and really truly sincerely caring about each other beneath all of it. Rynleaf writes some of the sweetest Jiang Cheng you ever did see, even when you’re looking through NHS’ jaded eyes. NHS is great here too, in all his secrets and his magnificent bastardry, you can just feel the smug smile he’s got on in every scene.

our footsteps sing a reckless serenade by ThirtySixSaveFiles: Because I cannot believe this one has so few kudos. Seriously, it’s a 46,000 word long modern with magic au where Jiang Cheng and NHS have an arranged marriage and fall in love. And that’s not even getting into the intrigue and the secrets NHS is keeping, and the murder mystery- There’s a lot of reasons to love this fic, and you definitely want to read it and discover all of them.

#wangxian #the untamed #mdzs #nie huaisang #sangcheng #fic recs

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

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Of All the Places

Chapter 12

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: Loki is in SHIELD’s custody, but refuses to speak. That is, until Thor manages to get through to him. Chapter Warnings: kinda angsty and some bad language A/N: Updates every Friday. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @marvelousdaydreams @parkastoria @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs @sourpatchspinster @gaitwae

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The wall across from him was a dull, depressing shade of gray. It had light cracks running through it, undoubtedly from previous super-powered villains who had resisted against their captors. This deep in the belly of the beast, Loki doubted they had much success with anything besides maybe giving out a few bruises. He, however, would not give the agents the satisfaction of seeing him lash out, no matter how badly he wanted to act like a madman, tearing everything apart until they let him go. Until he could see you. But, no, he swore he’d stay away from you for your own good.

Loki looked at the one-way mirror out of his peripheral vision. Another thing he refused to do was look directly at them, to look like he cared at all. His whole plan on getting out of here hinged on the fact that he seemed completely uninterested. It had worked the first time, after all. Though, that would probably mean they were more likely to be wary of him now. It didn’t really matter, anyway. His plan was half-baked at best, and he didn’t have much hope for getting out. Or much of a reason for trying, either. Not when he couldn’t go to you. A pain shot through his whole body, starting in his heart and spreading out. It was the all-consuming thought of you that made him show a crack in his armor, even though it was for the briefest of seconds. He tried to go back to the completely calm facade he’d been doing such a good job of keeping up, but he was sure he looked quite a bit more deranged now. It was much more of a strain on him to look fine when he was remembering that you were out there, possibly still crying into Denzel’s shoulder.

The door to his left swung open, and Loki examined his nails as best he could being cuffed to the table. He hoped the action looked as nonchalant as it did in his mind. Fury and Natasha walked up to the chair opposite him, but neither sat down for a second, obviously trying to give a subtle reminder of the power they exerted over him. Finally, Fury took the seat, but Natasha remained standing off to the side. It was probably a reminder of how she got him to crack last time. As if he would let that happen again.

“So,” Fury began, “you mind telling me what was going on in that crazy head of yours, attacking civilians without a cause.”

He was met with silence.

“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. Now, don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Still, stony-faced silence.

“You can take all the time you need. The sooner you answer, the sooner we can ship you back to that alien planet you dared to come from. It makes no difference to me whether you’re rotting here or there. I’m in no rush.”

“Oh, I can see that,” Loki taunted. The man’s intimidation tactics were more annoying than anything else, and Loki couldn’t resist the chance to be snide. “After all, it only took you two months to find me. And even then it was only because of a civilian, is that not right?”

“Fine, have it your way,” Fury shrugged, leaving the room with Natasha, seemingly carefree, though Loki knew he was grating on his nerves.

Really, all Loki wanted to do was break down, scream. Cry. But he knew he was being watched, so he didn’t say or do anything else. He should have left when he had the chance. Had he not stayed on your farm, he wouldn’t be in custody right now. Not to mention you and your family wouldn’t have had to be interrogated. Because, he was sure, there had been countless questions asked of you in the past twenty-four hours. Most of you would be safe, he knew, but what about John? He had kept Loki’s secret. If he was smart, he would claim it was under duress. Alas, Loki knew his friend cared too much to say anything that might condemn him. He could only hope John didn’t incriminate himself instead.

And Matt! Oh, that poor boy would be so confused, so upset. Right from the beginning Loki knew he would be no good for the child, but did he listen to sense? No, he gave into his own selfish desires. If only he hadn’t spent so much time with him, this might be easier. Maybe Matt was still young enough that after all this was said and done, he wouldn’t even remember it. Of course, that means he wouldn’t remember how Loki saved him either. The thought made him sadder than he ever would have imagined it could.

What of Papa and Ana, Loki wondered. They knew nothing of his true identity, so they must be safe. Ever the pacifist, he was sure your father would keep everyone as calm as possible during the whole ordeal. But Ana might not be doing too well. Plus, she was pregnant, and Loki felt guilty he’d inflicted so much stress on her during such a time. It dawned on him just then that, in his mind, he’d always just assumed he’d be around to meet the new baby. Needless to say, that was not the case. How he already missed your whole family already. Except for Mama. Screw it, even her! As annoying as she was and whatever she may have done in the end, Loki enjoyed the banter with her, deep down.

Then there was you. You’d cared for him since the moment he first arrived. From the very second you saw him passed out in the field to the time you found out the truth, you watched over him. All the bruises and cuts and scratches on him, you had healed with your touch. And that wasn’t just the physical ones, but the ones on his heart, too. Words could not describe all that you had done for him. His blood boiled at the thought that SHIELD agents were prying into the details of your relationship at that very moment.

He remembered he’d said he’d sing for you one day. He’d never get to do that now. He supposed it could just be added to a growing list of broken promises.

The last image he had of you as the van pulled away was still burning in the back of his mind. The way Denzel had been holding you, comforting you, it broke Loki. After everything you went through together, that should have been him. That could have been him. Instead, Mama had to go and ruin everything. He couldn’t really hold that against her, though. After all, he had been branded as a criminal. When you got down to the nitty-gritty of it, he actually was a criminal. But was he a villain? There was a difference there, he realized, but he didn’t know exactly where in the spectrum he fell. You’d called him a hero once. He shuddered to think what you’d call him now.

He’d vowed to leave you alone, but his resolve was already weakening. What if, by some miracle, he was able to get out of here? Could he go see you for even a second? If for nothing else, then to apologize for all the wrong he did you. He shook his head ever so slightly. That was not a thought he should be entertaining. How could he be so stupid! Here he was thinking about making the same mistake again. Would he ever learn? He needed to keep you out of this. You never should have even been involved in the first place. A monster; that’s all he ever was, and all he’d ever be. A single imperceptible tear rolled down his cheek.

Again, the door opened, but this time Thor walked in. He was seething in anger, but if Loki looked deep enough—and for whatever reason, he did—there was also a deep remorse in his eyes. A sadness Loki could only assume was due to all that had happened. It made him feel a little bit better to know he wasn’t the only one who wished things could have been different.

“Brother, I know not why you have taken this path,” Thor said. “But the sooner you confess, the sooner I can go back to fixing the mess you made in the rest of the Nine Realms.”

“What?” Loki scoffed. “So eager to leave your precious Midgard.”

He tried to spit it out with only venom in his voice, but it just sounded sad at the end. It was, after all, his precious Midgard now too.

“What happened, brother?” Thor asked, a bit more softly than he had before. “Why did you attack?”

Loki looked at the table, unable to face Thor. “You would not believe me even if I told you.”

“What have I ever done that you think I do not trust you, care for you, brother?”

“Stop calling me that,” Loki snapped, his eyes shooting up to Loki’s face. He would have stood if his restrains allowed it. “I am sure father dearest has already told you my true heritage.”

Ah, there was the venom in his voice. His demeanor quickly changed, though, when he noticed Thor was looking at him with a puzzled expression. Loki had assumed that Odin would have gone singing through the streets, telling everyone that Loki was a Frost Giant once he declared him a villain. Could it be that he hadn’t even told his prized son?

“Did he...” Loki gulped. “Did he not tell you?”

“Father did not mention anything. Loki, what are you talking about?”

“I am Jötnar, Thor,” Loki whispered. “The very thing you were taught to abhor.”

Thor finally sat down. He seemed to still be confused by something, though the trickster god could not quite figure out what. Perhaps he was just deciding the best way to slay the beast, to strike him down.

“But you are still my brother.”

Loki’s voice caught in his throat, and he choked on his words. He was nearly as shocked as Thor seemed, if not more. Though, it was for entirely different reasons. He sputtered, trying to find the right thing to say. So much for his cool demeanor.

“Just tell me what is wrong,” Thor said, “my brother.”

“I will tell you. On one condition.”

“That depends,” Thor hesitated, “on what that condition is.”

“That family I was staying with, you must make sure they are all safe. All of them.”

“You have my word. Now, please, tell me why you attacked Midgard. We will discuss your previous actions another time.”

“Very well,” Loki conceded with a small nod. Here goes nothing. “It was the mad Titan, Thanos. After I fell—well, let go on the Bifröst, I was adrift in a void for a while. It was not my intention, but it is what happened. After, well, to be quite honest, I do not know quite how long, Thanos pulled me out. He... He twisted my mind, bent me to his will. He used me as his puppet and made me attack. It was his bidding that I lower Midgard’s defenses, take note of what kind of fight the planet could put up. And one more thing. He wanted the Tesseract. I cannot at this moment, however, give it to you.”

Thor paused for a moment, the gears in his head turning. “And why is that?” he questioned.

“Because of these,” Loki said, lifting his magic-restraining chains. “If you take them off, I will be able to provide you with it.”

For once, he was telling the truth. He had no plans to keep the artifact for himself. Not right now, anyway, with so much else on the line. Once he had handed it over, though, he would have teleported away. It would have been nice to make amends with Thor, yes, but it was not something he would stake his freedom on.

“Point Break,” Tony said, popping in. “Can we talk to you out here for a second?”

Thor excused himself and left Loki by his lonesome again. Well, he wasn’t really alone with so many agents watching from the other side of the glass. His heart was beating wildly. If it had been up to Thor, if he had acted quick enough, Loki would already be on his way off this planet. There was no way anyone else would ever allow it now.

“Ok, Rock of Ages,” Tony said, waltzing back in with Thor and Fury close behind. “You know what I think? Your story sounds like a load of bullshit. But, Point Break here says he believes you.”

“Which is the most idiotic thing I’ve heard,” Fury added.

“And he’s got some evidence to back it up,” Tony finished.

Loki looked at his brother with wide eyes, much like he had when they were kids and he was about to get in trouble. A part of him couldn’t believe Thor would have stood up for him, even after their little heart to heart. He dared let a spark of hope ignite in his heart. If Thor was sticking up for him, and SHIELD was accepting his story as the truth that it was, then was he free to go? After all, if they agreed that it was not him, what reason did they have to keep him in custody?

“May I ask, then,” Loki started, “am I free of the charges? May I go?”

“I am afraid, brother,” Thor solemnly replied. “That I cannot allow that.”

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peeterparkr · 4 years ago

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perfidy;tom holland|6

chapter 6: the frame

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: how do you make someone fall in love with you when they’ve hated you their whole life?

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, timmy, mentions of sex, didn’t proof read

word count: 5.8k

here’s a playlist

TWEETS: read them before you read this.

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

No one should ever have sympathy for the devil. They’re the devil for a reason. But somehow, you understood a lot of things about Tom. Going through his schedule had you already on your feet, no wonder why he was always tired. You had been avoiding any kind of confrontation with anyone as your hands were hovering through the mouse as the light from your laptop was washing white through your whole room, you hadn’t slept and you had a cup of coffee as you waited for your alarm to go off so you could officially start the day.

Your first day as an assistant, it didn’t sound exciting but it had you on the edge. That wasn’t the reason why you hadn’t slept, though.

Timothée and you hadn’t solved anything, both of you needed to think things, you’d asked him for more time to go through and about everything. Because honestly, you didn’t know if you wanted to go back to a relationship where you knew you weren’t the same. But you were still in love with him. You knew he loved you, too. You can easily tell, you know? when someone is in love with someone else. Yet it seemed like he had been so distant, even if he had only been 3 feet apart.

.And it was hard, because you couldn’t be thinking about it, but you had the right to cry about it, didn’t you? But you knew that at some point you’d break. You didn’t have the time to think about it, not now. You had already opened the document, the script you so feared of writing. So banal and stupid and typical, a script that had no meaning. And you were wondering if you really wanted to do that, you could easily just text Alessandra you were not up to write something as vain and stupid, especially because you knew you’d end up hurting yourself. This meant emotionally investing in something, and although there was no way you’d ever wake up past feelings, you knew you could end up hurting more people than planned.

Besides, you were certain it was impossible, Tom wouldn’t fall in love with you. So you maybe needed to change this, seduce him? But you felt so dirty.

It had been good, though, relieved some stress, some tension. But then, you’d seen Timmy. And everything had tumbled down. Because you were proving his point. Though the conversation had gone very normal. Timmy had understood that you needed time, you hadn’t told him what for.

It was wrong, it felt like cheating. Cheating on your heart, at least. But you looked at the little annotations you had for the script.

You hadn’t slept because you were wondering if you could ever make someone like Tom fall in love with you. Because really? What makes people fall in love? It had you thinking. And maybe you could turn this into a guide, how to make your number one enemy fall in love with you. Was there really only one fine line in between love and hate? Can one fall in love with someone you know so well?

How does one make the devil fall in love with you?

And you’d asked Timmy, “What made you fall in love with me?” As if it was a question like “what’s your favourite colour?” or “what have you been doing these days?”

He hadn’t answered, not really. Only gave you a smile.

You closed the script, maybe the answer was in between your past, and you scrolled through your files until you found them, your old videos.

You stared at the names, and randomly clicked on one.

“Okay, Y/N… Want to dance with Tom?” Nikki said behind the camera. The movie was messy, and she was trying to focus on both of you. A young y/n was on the floor, her mouth covered with chocolate ice cream. A bow on her head, and a very nice white with cherries dress, now all covered, too with chocolate ice cream.

You chuckled as you watched yourself, you had the rest of the ice cream on your hand.

You were barely 3, it seemed. Your brother, probably 8, was sitting on the couch as he was too busy nibbling on his own popsicle. A young Tom was giggling to the camera, covered in ice cream too, as he danced to the music playing in the background, ABBA, your mother and Nikki used to play ABBA all the time.

“Y/N you don’t wanna dance with Tom?” Your mother walked into the view, as baby y/n looked up to her and shook her head. However, your brother, James walked over to you and helped-forced you to stand up. He took your hands and made you dance with him, you grinned.

Your mother and Nikki started to clap as you danced, and Tom, of course, wanting to get back the attention, pushed away your brother and took your hands instead, dancing with you.

The video was rather something quite adorable and stupid, you were both dancing to the song.

You laughed to yourself, because there was probably a similar video when you guys were older, but now drunkenly dancing to ABBA.

The kids were dancing, and you ended up kissing his cheek.

“Adorable!” Nikki said.

Of course, the sweetness ended as Tom pushed you back, making you fall to the floor. Tom laughed and then you cried.

“Thomas! Don’t do that!” Nikki said.

“Y/N, love it’s okay, don’t cry,” your mother said, as she rushed over to you.

The video ended.

You rolled your eyes, that video was the perfect definition to your relationship nowadays. Except you didn’t like him. But you had to, for your own sake, you had to put up with him. With the devil.

He was the devil in disguise, you could see it. Even when he was younger, little devil, disguised as an angel, with a beautiful smile and angelic eyes. This was wrong, so wrong, you knew he could hurt you more than you could hurt him. How could you ever make him fall in love with you? If you hadn’t succeeded before what made you think that you would win now?

It made you feel guilty, even, because you were playing with something where you knew you had a lot to lose. You were risking your heart, and you knew that this was leading to your doom. It was no secret that you had once wanted him.

And even with everything, you didn’t want to hurt him. And you had circled around it, how you could try to ruin him. But you really didn’t want to. But how did you make anyone fall in love with you? Because it was written in the stars that you were both destined to hate each other.

Or maybe you had only been destined to love him once, or twice but he was meant to hurt you. You couldn’t rewrite destiny, no matter how good of a writer you were, you couldn’t rewrite the stars.

Was there an answer? Did you have to dress a certain way? Did you have to sing? Maybe makeup. And you started to think about it, maybe you couldn’t rewrite it but you could write a new story.

What had made you fall in love with anyone, really? And you thought about Tom, the first person you’d ever been in love with, the chaos he was. Like a busy rainy morning in London, with hopes of the sun finally coming out. And it didn’t make any sense. Maybe that was you needed to figure out how to make something senseless turn into something important. Falling in love with the devil. And you’d already sinned.

But you started writing, and before you knew it, you were already waiting for him with a coffee and a tea and a printed schedule. Tom would be picking you up.

“Morning,” you said but he hadn’t answered.

And there it was, the long-expected cold shoulder he’d be giving you. You hadn’t expected any less from him, of course he was now pretending nothing had happened. A black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats.

“Here’s your tea—And-are you excited?”

“We don’t have to talk,” Tom said. “It’s too early.”

You raised your brows. “Alright.”

He remained quiet. But you watched him, the sun was making him a favour. The freckles on his skin were perfectly placed on his nose, it seemed like they were stars poured over. The damn boy was perfect, at least you could get something out of that.

You didn’t know if he had noticed your staring.

He was too good to be true, honestly. He was very attractive, too bad he was such an asshole. Why had he never liked you back?

And there it was, that feeling you’d always be feeling. The feeling of not being enough, or the feeling that you’d done something so wrong. But you’ve learnt better. You knew this was Tom being whom he was. Probably Haz had heard something and Tom had denied it and then he was giving you the cold shoulder to not raise any concerns.

This would be difficult, having to deal with him and try to make him fall in love with you when he clearly didn’t like you at all. It was good you didn’t like him either.

But you did look at the mirror and wondered if you looked bad, or ugly, or if it had been your voice, or maybe he didn’t drink tea when he was going to film, or what had you done wrong? That feeling would never go away when you were with Tom. What did you do wrong?

However, you needed to go through the Schedule, even if your thoughts were messing with yur brain. “We will go straight into makeup and—“

“You think I don’t know that?” Tom rolled his eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “Thomas I’m simply doing my job, alright? And if we want to work this out—And I’m just trying to be nice, okay? I don’t like you, I really really can’t stand you but I’m doing my best effort to try and be nice, and decent. We are gonna be doing this for two months and you know what? If you don’t get your shit together I might just quit right here right now and good luck finding an assistant in ten minutes, so you better not be pulling that attitude with me right now.”

He blinked as he cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“Good, now I need—“

He smirked. “That was pretty hot, though.”

You closed your eyes with desperation as you turned to glare at him. “What?”

He grinned as he turned his head just slightly to wink at you. “I’m sorry after that night—Apparently that kind of stuff turns me on.”

“That night didn’t happen,” you cleared your throat.

He clicked his tongue. “But it did, and we were very chill after that, and that was hot.”

“You’ve got some weird kinks going on there, first the praise kink and now this?” You sassed with poison.

“The praise?—I don’t have a praise kink,” he frowned.

You laughed. “We’ll see about that, now we need to—“

“Oh we will see?” He smirked. “So you’re saying you will prove it to me?”

You fumed red as you glared at him. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? I’m sorry to inform you but I’m a professional and that will never happen again.”

He grinned. “Oh c’mon, y/n.”

“What now?” You crossed your arms.

“You can’t… you can’t pretend it didn’t mean anything.”

“It didn’t feel anything. Did you feel anything?” This could lead somewhere.

“No. Well… I’m not saying that I felt anything, but it does mean something.”

You sighed. “I’m… No, I’m sorry I got caught up in the moment, that’s it.”

He laughed. “Hm, bummer, and here I was thinking about bringing yellow flowers.”

You looked away. Yellow flowers. “You wouldn’t even if you’d felt something,” you said with poison, not even wanting to think of yellow flowers. “And if you dare to mention that night again, I’m gonna quit for that too.”

“Nice, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he snickered, but then quickly regretted it as you smacked his head. “Ow! Hey! I’m just messing with ya, y/n.”

You frowned, feeling your empty stomach slowly pulling down.

“I hate you,” you stated.

“I hate you more, boo,” he grinned. “I’m sorry, y/n, it’s just pretty early…”

“And? I hate waking up early too, I didn't even sleep last night.”

“Why not?”

Because you were broken-hearted, because you had to write a script, because you had to work for him, because you needed him to fall in love with you. But you wouldn’t tell him that.

You shrugged, not giving him an answer.

“I saw your tweets,” he pointed out. “What happened with Mr. Boring?”

“He’s not boring, and it doesn’t concern you.”

“Y/N, he is like actually super boring,” he pushed. “Like what did you even see in him?”

A lot, a lot of things. He was charming, fun, nice, intellectual and he supported your dreams. And he never got into your nerves.

“He was dreamy.”

“Dreamy?” Tom frowned. “He is boring.”

“He’s not.”

“That’s why you broke up, right? Don’t tell me you got back with him? He’s so boring y/n and he’s—“

“That doesn’t—Look, don’t even—This is strictly professional and we shouldn’t be discussing any personal matters okay?”

He chuckled. “Fine, let’s get into professional matters.”

And there you were, walking behind the big movie star as people boarded him, the director, other actors, everybody wanted to speak to Tom and you were only following after him, writing stuff down that you thought would be important for later, as you tried to follow up with everyone. You had made sure the catering had gotten Tom’s snacks right, and the water, and then the menu for later, and everything that Harry had told you to, and then you were leading the way towards his trailer, and then after setting up you’d go to makeup.

The set was big, and you felt butterflies just thinking that someday maybe you’d be writing or directing something of this sorts. The film world was fascinating to you, sure, television was amazing, too but this was just where you needed to be. Not exactly as an assistant but it got you closer to wherever you wanted to be.

You were approaching Tom's trailer, as you were trying to explain to him the schedule that would be going on down today, while your mind was going places as you tried to come up with times where you could be alone with Tom so you could at least start your investigation on knowing what made him fall in love with anyone, and you had to start flirting with him, although, he had already started on that. Very unprofessional. If you were honest, that was the least that concerned you, you were too busy imagining the day you’d finally direct your own film, but before you could even continue with your film fantasy, you saw….him.

Timothée.

You’d never had a heart attack, but you were sure you had just experienced one.

Timothée.

With some headphones around his neck and a pencil behind his ear, just outside Tom’s trailers as he was leaning over to read something on the person beside him.

Timothée.

He looked calm, and unaware that you were there. A white t-shirt, pair of jeans, and his curls flying.

Timothée.

You stopped abruptly, as Tom bumped against your shoulder. You froze, everything was getting blurry. This jeopardized everything you’d planned.

“Y/N--What?” Tom frowned as he followed your gaze and then he saw him. A frown appeared upon his face. “Is that mister boring?”

“Yes shut up I’m freaking out,” you snapped.

Tom scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What were the odds?”

“Sh.”

Tom watched you, and mockingly laughed. “What?”

“Oh my god, I can’t…”

“God look at him, he looks so boring,” Tom pointed out.

This was life laughing at you. “Can you please stop calling him boring?”

“You can do so much better than Mister… ,” Tom rolled his eyes. “Timothée,” Tom poisoned, accentuating each and every letter.

“Shut up.”

This was chaos. And Timmy finally looked up and directed his sight at you, those caramel eyes glazed right upon you, and you saw him, and there was that smile, perfect smile that had made you fall in love with him. He looked so divine, so fresh, as if he was floating. An angel.

How the fuck were you going to flirt around with the devil if your angelic ex boyfriend whom you still loved was going to be around?

“Y/N?” Timothée mouthed as he dedicated another smile at you.

You finally breathed in some courage and smiled at him, approaching him.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked, softly, as his eyes were only on you. He had his ways making you feel like you were the only person in the whole world.

“I-”

“Timmo! Hello,” Tom intruded. “Hey, she’s my assistant, the real question is what are you doing here?”

Timothée finally looked up at Tom. “Thomas,” he said calmly. “Oh, really?” He turned his sight back to you. “Why didn’t you tell me, love--” he cleared his throat. “Y/N that uh, you’d be working with him.”

“I..”

“She doesn’t have to tell you everything, man,” Tom interrupted you for the second time. You nudged him.

“I just… didn’t think it was a big deal, but what are you doing here?”

“I’m kind of… an assistant of someone’s assistant, but hey, I’m part of the crew,” Tim grinned at you.

Tom watched between you both.

“Hey um, but what about your script?”

“She’ll have time to write it,” Tom pushed.

“I can talk for myself Tom, uh, here,” you handed him the keys to his trailer. “Why don’t you freshen up before we go over to makeup?”

Tom frowned. “Um, no, actually, I need you to come with me, I need to discuss some things,” Tom crossed his arms.

“Really? Even if we went through all of it?” You frowned.

“Yes, something just came up,” Tom smirked.

You wanted to hit him.

Timothée cleared his throat. “Maybe we can… talk later, okay? Later on a break?” Tim offered.

“Yeah, for sure,” you smiled at him but then Tom motioned to the trailer.

He walked in and you were quick to close the door.

“What is wrong with you?”

Tom scoffed. “I’m doing you a favour, y/n.”

“A favour?” You were about to kill him, but you didn’t. You remembered it. You were supposed to start liking him. “You know what? Whatever. Hurry up. We need to go straight into makeup, I’ll wait for you outside.

You were about to storm off before Tom stopped you.

“What?”

“Give me a smile,” he grinned.

You raised your middle finger at him and then stormed out. This wasn’t going to be easy.

However, he was rather decent after it, you went through makeup, wardrobe and eventually you were there, watching him walk into the set. You had a bottle of water waiting for him, along everything else he’d asked you.

He had been asking for a lot of things, every time he was sure that Tim was somehow close, Tom would bring up the most stupid request, and then add ‘please y/n, dear.’

He was terrible.

But you sat down, now ready to watch the scene. The director was giving him notes, and Tom was nodding, listening to him as he was getting ready. One of the things you had to admit that you loved about him, was his commitment, and even if you hated him, you knew he was very good at his job. Even the adorable facade he pulled to the world. You were very aware he was nice, and there were things that made you genuinely smile about him, but of course, he had a whole different persona when it came to you, and that’s when the magic simply stopped.

But you watched him as the light was falling to him, the frame was him and only him, even if he was not really doing much, you loved how he would change from whatever he was being and turn into an actual professional. And he looked attractive, even if the makeup he was wearing now covered the freckles you loved. And your mind wandered, a spring frame, maybe even beginning of summer, of strawberries and the sun shining, a turquoise bike and a race towards the ice cream parlour. Memories, memories, memories.

But you cleared your throat, not wanting to stare too much, even if the tight clothes he was wearing had you thinking. You thought it was ironic, even, 80’s type of clothing they’d chosen, and he… Had you thinking thoughts. Sins. But, honestly who wouldn’t sin with a devil like him?

But you looked away because you knew yourself, you knew the effect Tom had on you, and hell after that night, the effect had grown stronger.

You decided to look around, as you were trying to look up for Timmy.

Someone tapped on your shoulder.

“Hey,” someone whispered in your ear as you jumped in surprise, but finally turned your head to see Timothée standing right behind you.

“Hi,” you whispered as he grinned.

“Sorry for… scaring you,” he cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no you’re good, it’s okay, I just didn’t expect to see you here,” you admitted, your voice lowered as you finally laid your attention back on him.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” he chuckled. “Usually after a breakup, you don’t have to see your ex working with… Well,” he bit his lip, as he motioned for you to walk away with him, further from the cameras and mics.

“Yeah, with one of the reasons for the breakup,” you clicked your tongue. “But I mean.” You dug your hands into your pockets. Another reason as to why you hated Tom was that he’d been so delicate on trying to push you and Tim away from each other.

“You saw it, didn’t you? What I meant,” he sighed.

You looked away. “Tim.”

“He’s obsessed with you,” Tim scoffed as he shook his head. “And I can’t blame him, honestly, I am completely obsessed with you, too,” he grinned and you just smiled to yourself. “But… Well, it’s not exactly comforting to… you know.”

“He’s not obsessed with me, he doesn’t even like me,” you shrugged as you turned to see Tom as he was still listening to the director, too focused to know. “He’s… only trying to find ways to bother me.”

“Don’t you think that’s…” Timmy licked his lips.

“I can’t blame him, I kind of do the same,” you confessed, chuckling slightly. “Anything to see him angry.”

He pushed back a lost strand of hair. “Hm, maybe this is for the best, maybe right now we can finally spend time together.”

But you knew that the distance in your relationship hadn’t really come from actual space, you’d been emotionally distant to each other. However, when you looked into his eyes, maybe everything was forgotten. How could you not get lost into the way he looked at you?

But you couldn’t think about it now, you had something very important to do. Yet you couldn’t forget it, an autumn frame, with leaves falling down, as you ran towards him and you laughed as the night was fading in, eating cherries, and kissing him, once, twice and forever.

You coughed, as you avoided his gaze, coming back to normality.

“Tim, I…” You cleared your throat. “There’s something.”

“Why do I feel like I won’t like that something?” He scrunched his nose.

You licked your lips as you turned away, and you noticed Tom, you caught him staring. He quickly turned back to the director.

“I just really meant what I said, I need time right now,” you gulped. “I don’t think I can emotionally commit to anything, can we… please be friends?”

Timmy bit his lip but then grinned. “I’ll have to live with that,” he sighed. “But please don’t mind if I stare too long, I can’t help it, y/n. I’m an Icarus, remember?”

You nudged him. “Don’t fly too close to the sun,” you warned him.

He smiled. “C'mere, I’ll show you something cool,” he said as he led the way close back to where they were filming. They hadn’t started yet, but you saw Tom.

Tom gave you another glance and then ignored you.

You felt guilty, and weren’t sure why. But then you turned your attention to Timmy, who pointed out the lights on the set, and then to some props and explained what they meant and how it revolved around the story, and it was fascinating, knowing that little things that didn’t seem important would turn out to be so important.

“The story is hidden between the little details,” Tim said. “Like that flower pot, you see it?” He pointed to it.

“Yeah.”

“It’ll change through scenes, the pot will get darker as…” Timmy explained.

“Right,” you grinned.

But everyone started to shush everyone, they would start filming.

You had been quiet for the rest of the day, you had received Tom’s lunch and hadn’t even said any words to him. You’d been thinking about… a lot of things, really. But mostly Timothée, and how this was wrong. Very, very wrong. But there were worse things you could do, right?

Tom had decided to have his lunch in his trailer, and he’d invited you over with him. Of course, it probably was only because he didn’t want you around Timmy.

“Y/N?” Tom called. “Aren’t you going to eat?” He asked as you were biting on your cheek, nervously staring at the food.

“Hm? Oh, yes, sorry.”

He watched you. “So… I saw you talking to…” Tom cleared his throat. “Timothée,” he pronounced his name dragging his tongue and pitching his voice.

“Yeah.”

He blew his cheeks. “Hey, I can… I can get another assistant if you’re uncomfortable being near him…”

You chuckled. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

“No… I’m just… I don’t want you feeling sad,” he pointed out.

“I’m not sad.”

He shrugged. “Well, you look sad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Tom shrugged. “And it bothers me.”

“Does it now?” You questioned.

“It’s my job making you sad and I’m angry he’s doing it,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

“What happened then?” He pushed.

You looked away. “Nothing, Tom. We broke up, I told him we had to be friends for now, and that’s it.”

Tom watched you, he seemed calculated. He probably wanted ways to make you feel bad, that was Tom. Amazing memory when it comes to annoy you.

“Why did you break up?”

Distance. Him. Harry. Timothée knowing you got tired of waiting before and thinking you’d settled with him. Dreams that had to be changed for plans, and plans which involved being away. Timothée pointing out you had had feelings for Tom. You probably did. Timothée pointing out Harry was probably in love with you. You, being aware of it, but deciding to ignore it, or not accept it. Selfish conversations. Jealousy. Long conversations that turned into small talk. Because you felt like strangers. Intimacy was gone. No more sparks. Secrets that you both held. Tom. Because you’d gotten drunk once and said something about Tom that one shouldn’t say when you’re dating someone.

That was a summary.

“I… well, it’s too complicated.” A summary he didn’t deserve to know.

Tom shrugged. “Why?”

There was a part of you that was thinking about how you could make someone fall in love. You thought about Timothée, you loved how sincere he was. Maybe being sincere could help you. Being vulnerable helps.

“I think we fell in love very quickly and we didn’t stop to see if there was… anything else going on with us, like myself I—he just I dunno, we changed and we were so into the idea of who we were at the beginning.” You didn’t even know what you were trying to say.

“I’m not following.”

“I feel like,” you sincered yourself. “At least with me, it started out as… as me escaping from something else you know? I was trying to avoid other problems and it came as a simple solution but in the end I fell in love with him.” You didn’t regret falling in love with him.

“Meaning?”

“It was kind of a—getaway,” you licked your lips. “Escaping, but not really. I had too many feelings just trying to explode and I— I just let my feelings explode into him, I guess I wanted to love someone and he walked in.”

“A rebound?” Tom questioned.

“Not really.” Besides, you hadn’t talked about this with anyone, not even with Harry, or Sam. It felt wrong.

“So you were looking for a fling?”

“Well, no, it’s complicated,” you admitted. “But I just… really loved him, you know? But he’s very observant, and he caught up on it.”

“Observant, huh.”

“Yes and he pointed out things which I’ve been oblivious to, or maybe not oblivious but I was too dedicated to avoiding them that I forgot about them,” you sighed.

“What kind of things?”

“Stuff, I dunno,” you ran a hand through your hair.

He watched you, carefully. “What do you see in him anyway? He’s boring.”

You chuckled, slightly. “He’s brilliant, and besides, I can say more about him than that short skirt who asked you out today.”

He smirked. “Jealous?”

“What would I be jealous for?” You rolled your eyes. “If anything I’m thankful. I’m hoping she’ll be able to calm you and your horny ass down,” you bellowed.

He laughed. “She won’t be, I won’t go out with her.” He shrugged with fake shame.

You frowned. “Why not?”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Because, she’s…”

“Dull? Yeah, I noticed that too,” you chided. “Don’t date someone like her.”

Tom grinned. “I wasn’t going to,” he surmised. “But, please do tell me, what kind of people should I date?”

You bit your lip as you gave it a thought. “Someone with layers,” you began. “Fun, and who can put up with all your shit.”

He raised an eyebrow with a smug smirk. “Hm, sounds like someone like you?”

You laughed. “No, no, sweetheart,” you rolled your eyes. “Someone who can actually stand you”

He laughed as he moved his chair to be closer. “Since when do you care about who I date?”

You watched him with curiosity. “I don’t,” you cleared out. “What? Did you want me to care?

He coughed. “I love how you manage to change the subject to avoid talking about how boring your ex is.”

You nudged him. “He’s not boring, he’s amazing.”

“He’s not, I saw him explaining bloody props to you,” he laughed. “Props. God, he is boring, why did you date someone like him? He’s literally… Look, I remember this one time when he was rambling about some boring shit, see I can’t even remember what he said? And gosh, everything he says is so poetic, and it’s like bro calm down,” Tom said disgusted.

“I like that,” you laughed. “Maybe he’s just too smart for you, your little brain cell can’t handle it.”

He glared at you as he brushed his hand against your leg, you coughed looking at it. “Ha-ha, no, but really y/n, you should date someone fun, someone who can make you laugh.”

You smirked. “Hm… Since when do you care about who I date?” You said, walking your own fingers through his arm.

He shrugged. “I’ve always cared about that, don’t be silly,” he looked at you, as his hand stopped your fingers, and then played with your hand instead.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, y/n, because you’ve paraded around with assholes, man, you’re really bad at choosing boyfriends,” he chuckled as his other hand landed on your knee.

You laughed. “I do have a tendency to crush on assholes, I used to have a crush on you, remember?” You stated with pride as you lifted his chin.

He laughed as he bit his lip. “Point proven.”

You gulped and looked away. “But Tim is different.”

“But he is boring,” he scooted closer, you were barely an inch far away.

“He’s not.” You looked away

“What did you see in him?” He pushed again and turned your head to him. “Okay, was he good in bed?” He chuckled.

You blushed. “Oh my god, you shouldn’t ask that.”

He snickered softly as he leaned over closer. “All I’m asking, y/n, is…”He lowered his voice, you felt his hot breath against your lips. “...if he’s able to get you all flustered only by… playing this kind of game and,” he glanced down at your lips, as he placed a single peck upon the corner of your lips.

You didn’t even flinch. “Are you sure you’re not the one losing, though?”

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isitmadness · 4 years ago

Text

A Chance to Try

summary: Cody and Obi-Wan meet again after being separated for months and realize how much they missed each other.

characters/relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody, Codywan

words: 4.9k

tags: AU - modern setting, angst with a happy ending, idiots in love, sad mutual pining, me: write some pure angst!, also me: BUT WHAT IF WE FINISH WITH FLUFF

a/n: This is a follow-up to Out of Chances to Give. I’m not sure it makes a whole lot of sense on its own, but I couldn’t leave those boys sad...Anyway, let me know what you think! (Comments and/or reblogs mean so much if you enjoyed it!)

Read it on a03

It had been eight months since Obi-Wan had left.

Eight months of freedom and quiet and nights spent not worrying if Obi-Wan would make it home on time, or at all. No messes left behind from his little half-finished projects, no dirty teacups left all over the house in nooks and crannies he’d never look in, no dirty clothes left right inside the bathroom door to trip over, no fighting, no--

No little projects cooked up as a way to make Cody’s life easier, no tea shared in the early mornings or late nights just because Obi-Wan said it helped to calm his nerves, no sweaters left hanging over the back of the chair for Cody to put on and snuggle into when he missed Obi-Wan the most.

He should have been happy there was no fighting, but he found it really only made him sad.

He missed Obi-Wan...desperately and it sat in his chest like a dull ache on most days.

----

It didn’t at first.

At first there was a new-found sense of freedom. He and Obi-Wan had been together a little over three years—he hadn’t thought of anyone else for even longer than that. He had worked with Obi-Wan for years before he ever made his move—there really had only ever been Obi-Wan for a long time. But now there was no Obi-Wan and he was re-learning how to meet people and mingle and socialize in ways he hadn’t in a long time.

And so he tried a couple of new relationships, which started well then--

The eyes weren’t bright enough, they weren’t the right shade of blue, the corners didn’t crinkle when they laughed, the hair wasn’t the right ginger shade (or at all). They weren’t funny or sassy enough, their eyebrows didn’t arch after telling the horrible punchlines waiting for Cody’s reaction. They didn’t hum or sing. They didn’t gently card their fingers through his hair while he rested his ear against their chest.

He found himself looking for Obi-Wan everywhere but never found him.

In eight months he had talked to him twice. Once to tell him he had left behind some things, then again when they met up to pass them off. Obi-Wan didn’t look too different then—he still looked tired with dark circles around his eyes and Cody wondered if he got to sleep at all or if he just stayed at work all the time now. But that had been seven months ago. All Cody could hope was that he didn’t let it consume him.

He thought of Obi-Wan often and wondered if he’d ever get to a point where he wouldn't.

----

Cody walked into the bright new cafe that early spring morning feeling a sense of renewal after the long, bleak winter. He was meeting a client for coffee in a part of town he didn’t frequent often, but he knew Obi-Wan’s brother and his family lived fairly nearby, and a tiny part of him wondered if he could run into them (he hoped he wouldn’t).

He stood in the back of the line, flipping through the different apps on his phone as the line slowly inched forward. The shop was busy and loud. He looked up and around hoping he hadn’t missed his contact yet, but he hadn’t seemed to. The line shuffled on, with names and orders being shouted for pick-up while music blared overhead. Cody finally looked up to watch the bustle of customers and workers as they made all the orders. Then suddenly, behind the counter, just barely showing above the top of the espresso machine, he saw the right shade of sandy-ginger hair. His heart sped up.

The man never looked up, presumably too busy making drinks, but Cody couldn’t take his eyes off of the top of his head. There was no way it was Obi-Wan. He was being ridiculous. Why would Obi-Wan be here working?

The line continued forward and Cody was next. He tried to crane his neck to get a look around behind the counter, but he was unsuccessful. Finally it was his turn.

“Yes, what can I get you?” The young lady behind the counter smiled even though Cody was basically ignoring her. Once he realized he was holding up the line, he looked at her.

“Oh, uh, coffee with room for cream and uh...a blueberry muffin, I guess.”

The lady pulled a cup and marker from behind the counter, “And name?”

“Oh, Cody.” His eyes snapped back to the man, their eyes finally met, and they both just stood there staring at each other.

It was Obi-Wan. And yet...it was almost not him.

His eyes were bright and warm, just like Cody had remembered them, and also that right shade of stormy blue. But the dark circles were nowhere near as pronounced. His hair was the same shade as before, but it was much longer than he had ever seen it. The bulk of it was pulled behind his head in a short ponytail, but a few pieces hung below his jaw, tucked behind his ears. And his beard was gone. He looked like a younger twin brother of his Obi-Wan.

He isn’t yours though, is he? A tiny voice in his head told him. You kicked him to the curb when he wasn’t always around to give you what you wanted.

Cody shook his head. The lady had said something to him, but he didn’t hear. “I’m sorry, what?” He turned to her then looked back and Obi-Wan was gone. She gave him his total again and he dug the money out of his pocket to pay.

When he finished, he walked to the end of the counter where the orders were placed and waited. He kept looking for Obi-Wan, but he never saw him again.

----

The cafe on the other side of town was never anywhere near where Cody needed to be, but he found himself there a couple times a week hoping against hope that he would run into Obi-Wan again. He couldn’t ask for his schedule, that would be creepy, and they probably wouldn’t give it to him anyway… he already felt a bit ‘stalkery’ coming by so often, but he HAD to see Obi-Wan. He HAD to talk to him—even for just a minute.

Today there was no sign of him again, so he grabbed his coffee and left. As soon as he hit the pavement at the front of the shop, he heard a voice call to his right. “What are you doing?” He whipped around quickly, heart pounding in his chest. He would know that lilt anywhere.

Obi-Wan was leaning against the wall, right leg bent with his foot pressed against the brick building, and he was smoking. He thought Obi-Wan gave up smoking years ago. He just stared as he took a long drag then blew out the smoke. He pushed himself off the side of the building and turned to face Cody.

Obi-Wan was always lean, not too thin, but healthy. He appeared to have put a few pounds on, in addition to some muscle and Cody thought it suited him well. His hair was down this time and it fell almost to his shoulders, flipping at the ends. Cody found his fingers twitchy, wanting to run them through it. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and his apron appeared to be slung over his left shoulder.

“Obi-Wan?” It was all Cody could think to say. Of course it was him.

Obi-Wan stretched his arms out to the side then dropped them back down, “In the flesh.” He took two steps closer to Cody, but he was still out of arm’s reach. There was a hardness in Obi-Wan’s expression that Cody figured was directed at him. “You’ve discovered my great secret it seems.” He took another long drag from the cigarette—it was...distracting.

Cody blinked, “Your...your great secret?”

Obi-Wan took another step forward. “Found where I worked.”

Cody looked between the coffee shop and Obi-Wan. He knew he worked here, he’d seen it with his own eyes, but he had convinced himself that it was a one-off thing, that maybe Obi-Wan was volunteering to help, as a friend, or something...none of it make sense, but Obi-Wan working here didn’t make sense either. “You work here? Since when?”

Obi-Wan scrubbed a hand down his face, “I’m not sure why it matters, it’s just a job to make ends meet, to pay bills...but four months.”

Had Obi-Wan fallen on hard times? Did he lose his job? He didn’t think anything less of Obi-Wan, he just wanted to know why he was here and not in his old financial job. He had a million questions to ask and he was in danger of asking them all right this second. “Are you okay?”

Obi-Wan gave a short laugh. It sounded incredulous, even derisive. “I didn’t expect such pleasantries. I am well, I hope you and your family are, too.” As he started back towards the door, he threw his cigarette down and put it out with the toe of his boot, but Cody caught him by the arm. Obi-Wan looked down at where their skin met then back up at Cody who dropped it quickly.

“I need to talk to you,” Cody blurted out before he chickened out.

“Well, I have to go back to work, my break is over.”

Cody shook his head, “No, not here, not now. Later?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Text me time and place details—that is, if you kept my number.” Then he walked back inside leaving a very confused Cody standing on the sidewalk.

----

Obi-Wan sat on the park bench, waiting. He wasn’t going to be late—not this time. He looked at the message in his phone again. He assumed that Cody had deleted his number long ago, wiping him out completely. He wasn’t sure how to feel now knowing that he still had it. But more than that, he didn’t expect he’d want to talk to him either. They hadn’t talked to each other in months, and it didn’t end exactly the greatest last time. Obi-Wan had made a fool of himself, groveling, and he wasn’t going to be doing that again.

But that ache in his chest was back. And had been since he saw him standing in line in the cafe that morning.

Over the months, he had managed to tamp it down, make it more of a dull ache instead, but it was very clear now that he had never gotten over Cody. He probably never would. He didn’t even want to hope that they could maybe be friends now. Hope was dangerous.

But he missed Cody, so he hoped anyway.

His leg was shaking out of nervousness as he looked around the city park looking for warm brown skin and short dark hair. He looked back at his watch—it seemed Cody was the late one now.

He had been turning over in his mind all the things he wanted to say, but couldn’t decide on any of them. They sounded too weak, too little, feeble attempts at making up for all the hurt he caused. He couldn’t undo any of it, so there was no point in even trying. He had stayed out of Cody’s life, just like he had asked. Then Cody had to come along and re-insert himself into his.

“Hello.” Obi-Wan turned his head and found Cody standing at the other end of the bench. He looked unsure, and a little tired himself. But still just as handsome as he always was. His hair was shorter than it had been—it seemed he had attempted to cut all the curl out of it, but Obi-Wan could tell that even short, it started to wave.

“Hello,” Obi-Wan finally replied and gestured for Cody to be seated. They sat two feet apart on the park bench, facing forward. Obi-Wan almost chuckled to himself imagining how stiff and ridiculous they looked. He turned to Cody again.

“Well--”

“I just--”

Of course they would start at the same time. “Please, you first,” Obi-Wan said. “This was your idea.” It came out rather irritable, and he didn’t really mean it that way, but well…

Cody cleared his throat, cutting his eyes over to Obi-Wan then back forward. “Hmm, well, yes...I just-- I guess I was surprised to see you working there and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

Obi-Wan bit back what he really wanted to say—there really was no point in being short or difficult. “I’m fine, like I said before, it’s just a place to make some money to pay the bills, help Anakin and Padme with rent.”

Cody looked over at him, “Oh, you live with your brother?”

“Right now, yes. They have been kind enough to let me stay while I…” He was prepared to tell Cody everything. He guessed it didn’t matter if he knew or not. “I’m working on my master’s finally and don’t make enough at the shop to live on my own. They’ve been kind enough to let me stay. And I get to see and take care of Luke and Leia. It's mutually beneficial.”

“Ah,” Cody nodded at the almost-clinical description of his living arrangements. He knew that family meant the world to him. “So you don’t…?”

“Work at that other place?” Obi-Wan chuckled mirthlessly. “No. They saw fit to get rid of me two...three? Three months after yo--” Obi-Wan stopped that line of thinking. “Anyway, so here I am.”

“Here you are.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “And you’re here, too. Which I can’t understand.” It was out of his mouth before he could think better of it. He watched Cody wrestle with something - he looked down and away and didn’t respond for a while. “I know you came back to the shop several times after that first morning, too.”

Cody looked at him confused, “But I never saw you.”

“That’s because I didn’t want to be seen.” The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth lifted slightly and he shook his head. “You think I wanted you to find me there?”

“Well, I....” Cody shifted and put out a hand, then quickly drew it back. “Listen, Obi-Wan, if you’re embarrassed, there’s nothing--”

“Of course I was embarrassed. I’m not embarrassed working there, no, but having you find me there… ‘oh there’s Obi-Wan, the great screw-up. Not only was he overworked and terrible at his job, he couldn’t even keep it!’” There was no humor in his laugh.

“Obi-Wan, I didn’t-- I wasn’t thinking that.”

Obi-Wan looked at his watch then stood abruptly. “Well, you’ve checked on me, you’ve seen that I’m okay. I need to be going or I’ll miss my bus.”

Cody stood, too. “I could give you a ride home, if you want. If you want…”

In the end, Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to accept the ride—not just yet. But he did agree to see him again in a few days’ time for dinner.

It would just be a dinner between acquaintances.

But could those acquaintances become friends again?

----

Dinner was pleasant enough, but also at times quiet and awkward with neither of them knowing once again what to say. They got caught up on their families, which took some time, then talked about Cody’s job for a bit, but they were so very carefully avoiding the enormous elephant in the room. And Obi-Wan was growing antsy.

He put his fork down and took a long sip of his water. "Cody…" he started, but Cody cut him off.

"No, I'm sorry, I can't do this." Obi-Wan winced—it felt like that night eight months ago all over again. Why did he agree to this? It wasn't even his idea. "I'm-- I'm so sorry for how things ended all those months ago. I'm sorry for the way we parted that one time we met up. I'm sorry for my part in the breakdown of our relationship. Because of course it wasn't just you. We were partners, a team, and...oh gods, I've missed you so much. I didn't realize how much until I saw you again in the shop, and I...I had tried to move on, but I didn't do a very good job of it, I guess. I couldn't, I can't...and, I'm not here with any expectations, I just want you to know that, I just wanted to see you and talk to you and make sure you're okay." Cody exhaled and sat back.

Obi-Wan was stunned. He very nearly took all the words right out his mouth. But...Cody still missed him? He tried to calm the hammering of his heart.

"Cody, I-- I don't know what to say."

He shook his head, "You don't have to say anything, I guess, if you don't want to." Cody looked at him and gave him a soft, encouraging smile. And Obi-Wan couldn't find any of his words anymore. He only knew he wanted to kiss him so badly.

Cody put his hand out on the table, palm up. Obi-Wan looked down and hesitated, unsure of what this would mean, of what Cody wanted. He wanted, but he was afraid. Time seemed to slow and stop.

"Oh," Cody said quietly as he pulled his hand back into his lap. "I'm sorry, I think-- maybe we should get the check." They had both screwed up again.

----

It was stupid, it was too soon, why would Obi-Wan want him back after kicking him out? He was a fool. All of these things Cody thought to himself as he paced their old living room.

They had paid their checks and parted on the sidewalk quickly as it had begun to rain. Cody insisted on giving him a ride home, but Obi-Wan had adamantly refused, claiming the bus was just fine. Cody knew it was an excuse, and he couldn't deny being hurt, but he supposed he deserved it. There were no plans to talk or see each other again. Obi-Wan didn't request that Cody not come back to the shop, but Cody felt it was implied anyway.

A quick burst of lightning flashed followed shortly by a long rumble of thunder, and Cody hoped that Obi-Wan had made it to the bus station before the worst of the storm hit. He flopped down on the couch and pulled out his phone to text him. That was normal to check on a friend, he told himself, to make sure they made it.

But instead, he opened the thread of texts. He hadn't...hadn't deleted any of them, and it didn't take him long to find texts from their breakup or texts from even longer before, going back as much as two years. Texts where Obi-Wan had sent him some random fact he had discovered while reading, a photo of Leia sitting in a mud puddle, a small grocery list, simple declarations of love...and his chest ached. He laid his head back on the couch cushion and closed his eyes listening to the rain, his neighbors upstairs, and loud rushing of blood through his ears.

He jerked up when someone banged on his door. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. It had to be Obi-Wan, it had to…

But he remained fixed to the spot, unable to move. After what felt like an eternity in his own mind, he jumped up and ran to the door, throwing it open and finding no one there. He burst out of the maisonette just in time to catch that ginger hair moving quickly toward the main entryway.

"OBI-WAN!" He didn't care if he woke every neighbor in the building or even the street. To his surprise, Obi-Wan did stop and turned. He was soaked. Water was gathering in a puddle at his feet and his long hair hung limply around his face. He was breathing quickly and looked as if he was reading to take off. They both remained frozen to their spots.

"Obi-Wan, please come inside, you're soaked. You'll get sick." Cody was taking a risk, he knew, but he hoped it would pay off. Obi-Wan had come back—it was more than he ever could have hoped.

Obi-Wan hesitated then looked down. "I don't-- I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Cody sighed, "Just get warm then you can go home. Think of your family." A cheap ploy, he knew, but he didn't care—as long as it worked.

He looked at Cody then started back up the stairs slowly. "All right."

When they got back inside, he helped him take off his jacket then took it to the kitchen sink, where he left it to start drying. Obi-Wan stood in the middle of the kitchen thinking of all the meals they had cooked together there, the cups of tea shared, the cold leftovers he subjected himself to—not that that had been Cody's fault...then the kisses and that one time they had--

"Come on, you know you can't stand there in those wet things." Cody stood in the doorway of the kitchen, an inscrutable expression on his face. Obi-Wan knew he was right, but he knew it would prolong his stay. He should have just caught the bus like he was supposed to.

But he nodded anyway and followed Cody up those familiar stairs to that familiar bathroom. "Just wait here, okay?"

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, "Where do you think I'm going like this?" Cody just shook his head and left.

Everything was nearly the same, maybe some new touches here and there, but it was all so very Cody, just how it had been months ago and Obi-Wan was finding it harder and harder to be here. He looked at himself briefly in the mirror then sat down on the edge of the tub. What was he going to say? Why had he run back? Why didn't he take his hand at dinner? Why would Cody want him?

"Okay, here's a towel," Cody said, startling Obi-Wan out of his trance. He jumped up quickly and took it and a change of clothes from his hands. "That...I hope that still fits." Obi-Wan looked at the sweatpants and t-shirt and recognized it immediately as one of Cody's old university shirts that Obi-Wan had stolen many times. He had kept it. He couldn't hold back the sob any longer.

"Cody, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...for everything." He covered his face with his hands and cried. Cody's heart was breaking. Even a month ago he couldn't see himself here. He wasn’t sure they’d ever speak again. He had felt for a long time that if they ever did, then he would have to be the first one to do it, but he never had the courage. But now Obi-Wan was back, sobbing in their once-shared bathroom, and he was angry at himself for many things.

He slowly reached out, afraid that Obi-Wan would refuse his touch, but he surprisingly let himself be pulled into Cody's arms where he held onto him tightly. It felt good and familiar and right. Cody ran a soothing hand down his back, nearly ready to cry himself with how much he missed this.

They stood there for a long time, both afraid of once again making the first move, both not wanting to pull away. But finally Cody did. He reached up and put his hands on either side of Obi-Wan’s face, "Change your clothes and come downstairs, okay?" Obi-Wan nodded again and Cody left him alone.

----

Everything was feeling so painfully just how it once was that Cody didn't know if he'd be able to handle Obi-Wan leaving, and the two of them going on just as they had been. It was selfish, but he couldn't help it, he knew he still loved him.

He stirred milk in Obi-Wan’s tea and walked out to the living room just in time to see Obi-Wan coming down the stairs. He had attempted to towel-dry his hair, making it wilder than he had seen it in a very long time, and he had changed and looked comfortable and cozy in Cody's clothes. Something ignited low in his gut.

"Here you are," Cody said, holding out the tea which Obi-Wan took gratefully. "Come sit down."

"Thank you." Obi-Wan tucked one leg under himself and sat down carefully on one end of the couch while Cody took the other. Obi-Wan couldn't quite meet his eyes yet, but he could feel them on him.

"Obi-Wan, I--"

"No," Obi-Wan interrupted, setting his cup down on the coffee table. "I think I need to speak first this time. That's what I had come here to do."

Cody blinked at him several times, "Well, then go ahead."

Obi-Wan exhaled slowly, "Cody, I never ever meant to put you or what we had on the back burner. And I'm sorry. I hated the decisions I was forced to make—you or the never-ending work projects—and I hate that I didn't push back more. I'm sorry I let them. Later when you… when we were through, they pushed harder, but all I could do was be grateful that it would no longer affect you. I knew you'd be happy, or could be happy, without me dragging you down." At this Cody frowned. "When they let me go, I was devastated, as maybe you could imagine, but then with sudden clarity, I realized it was the best thing that could ever happen. But the victory felt hollow without you. I've missed you terribly, and I don't know if I have a right to say any of this, but I can't help it, I need to.”

It was Cody’s turn to be stunned. He watched as Obi-Wan leaned forward, grabbing his cup and taking another sip of his tea.

"I’ve enjoyed my time working at that shop, but I'm still a bit embarrassed by you finding me there like that," Obi-Wan shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know what I was thinking, but I had hoped that perhaps I'd be back on track before I saw you again…" He set the cup down once more. Before he saw him again? Cody sat up slightly.

"I told you, Obi-Wan, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, but… but perhaps you could explain, before you saw me again?"

Obi-Wan finally looked at him, "I suppose it was a foolish notion, especially given the way we parted when we last saw each other but, well, I kept holding onto hope for some reason—it was all I had. Finish school, get a different job, become worthy of you…" He gave Cody that sweet half-smile, and Cody adored that it was so visible now since his beard was still gone. But that was neither here nor there.

"Worthy of me??" Cody asked incredulously. "Obi-Wan, you were always worthy. Surely you don't think that somehow you weren't then, or even now?" He didn't know what to do with this information.

Obi-Wan looked down and away with a chuckle, "Well...I…"

"Obi-Wan," he reached out and grabbed his hand before he could think twice about it. Thankfully, he didn't recoil from the touch. "I love you. I always have. I never stopped. I'm ashamed to admit I tried, but it was impossible—you were everywhere and nowhere. I'm so sorry for the way I treated you, I was… upset, and neither of us did a good job of communicating." He could feel Obi-Wan’s hand shaking. He scooted closer to him and put his hand on his cheek so he'd look at him. "Obi-Wan, I love you."

Obi-Wan stared at him, wide-eyed, wanting to fall backwards into the couch and forward into Cody's arms at the same time. He chose the latter.

They fell backwards, Obi-Wan knocking the breath out of Cody's chest and laughed. Obi-Wan grabbed Cody's face and planted kisses all over it, much to Cody's amusement. Each kiss was punctuated with "I love you, I've always loved you," until Obi-Wan got a hold of himself and realized what he was doing, what he'd done.

He started to pull away but Cody wrapped his arms around him tighter. "No! You can't leave, I don't want you to." Obi-Wan smiled and dove in for another soft, chaste kiss. “Stay, please stay.”

Obi-Wan pulled back and looked at him. He supposed he was trying to find any trace that Cody might be having him on, playing some cruel trick. But Cody wasn’t cruel. “Do you mean it?”

Cody kissed him once more, then stroked his hair back off his face. His face was so very dear—how did he let it go? He sighed. “I know this is a lot right now, and I don’t mean to push you, I’m sorry. You can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch--”

“No, no, no, you impossible man,” Obi-Wan interrupted with such fondness in his voice. “I’ll take the couch, I’ve slept on it many times.” He tried to ignore that phantom ache in his chest.

“Obi-Wan…” Cody said exasperatedly.

“Cody…” Obi-Wan returned with a grin. He loved it when he said his name.

Cody knew he wouldn’t win, but he was completely fine with it. As long as Obi-Wan was here with him and that they would have a chance to try.

#my writing #modern au #modern setting #codywan #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #obi-wan x cody #angst with a happy ending

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ohprettyweeper · 4 years ago

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After You’re Gone

Moved from my previous fic blog.

Summary: Moving on is never as easy as they say it is. Pairing: Tyler x Reader Word Count: 1240 Warnings: Angst. The sad kind. I’ll put other ones in the tags because I don’t wanna spoil the fic. Song Inspo: You Were Meant for Me - Jewel; I was singing this song in the shower and boom fic idea. Doesn’t go exactly with the song – anyway. Enjoy the sadness.

At six o’ clock on the dot, your alarm buzzed on the nightstand. You slapped it off, but didn’t bother with the snooze button. You had been awake off and on for the last few hours trying to get comfortable anyway, and the doctor had recommended a regular routine to get you out of the depths to which you had sunk over the last few months. That meant getting up at the same time, having the same thing for breakfast, taking the same route to and from work — all of it. Your routine would change soon enough, but while you had control over your agenda, you would manage as best you could.

The dishes from your usual pancakes and eggs rinsed off easily enough. From there it was on to brushing your teeth, wiping down the mirror and the sink, then making the short walk to work. The weather was dreary but warm, so you didn’t mind. With your keys safely in your purse and the door to your new place locked behind you, you took the steps one at a time and took a left on the sidewalk.

“Hey, Y/N. How’s it today?” your mother asked when you called her.

“Same as every day since Tyler’s been gone,” you replied flatly, nodding a thank-you to the lady at the coffee cart. “You sound out of breath, what are you doing?”

“Taking a walk. Figure I should get out more. You should too, you know. I know you went out with your brother the other day. It’s not the end, sweetheart. It’s an ending, and a new beginning.”

You licked your lips; she was going to go on one of her positive lifestyle rants soon and you weren’t in the mood. “Hey, work’s calling on the other line. I’ll check in with you tonight.”

She didn’t like it, you could tell her tone when she said goodbye. You shook your head and stuffed your phone in your bag. It had been three months, and that wasn’t really that long. Not after something like you and Tyler had came to an end the way it did.

A few blocks from the office, rain started to pour from the cloudy sky.

“Perfect,” you muttered out loud. With a groan of frustration, you pulled your hood up over your head and dropped the coffee into the nearest bin. You shouldn’t be drinking it anyway, and it would only spill during your jog to work.

“You’re soaking!” Ashley exclaimed as soon as you arrived at your cubicle. She helped you out of your jacket, though you assured her you were fine. “You should have hailed a cab.”

“It was a few blocks. What’s the point?” you shrugged. “Is the new issue out?”

Ashley nodded. “They’re already loving your article, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard. “Good. That’s good. It’s good for the magazine.”

“Editor picked some great photos from the ones you picked out. You should check it out, when you get home.”

The newest issue of Rolling Stone slapped onto your desk. You quickly shoved it into your bag; you didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to see his picture and read the words you had written about him and Josh and being part of their lives. That wasn’t reality anymore.

“Are you getting out at all?” Ashley asked quietly.

“Saw a movie the other night, with my brother. It was a comedy, but it just wasn’t — nothing’s funny right now. I’m sure it will be at some point but right now, it’s just not. I’m too sad. Almost made me miss him more. We laughed together all the time.” A smile snuck to your lips as you thought back to all the jokes and pranks and laughs for stupid reasons you had shared with Tyler. As stealthy as the memories were, the smile wasn’t strong enough to exercise facial muscles you had only forced your body to use since he had been gone.

Ashley went back to her work then, for which you were honestly grateful. Nothing anyone could say was enough or helpful anymore. You just had to work through this on your own.

You stayed through the whole work day, forcing those fake smiles and making small talk with co-workers who didn’t know you as well as Ashley and would still try to give you small tidbits of quasi-wisdom. It all sounded like bullshit that should be embroidered on a pillow or printed on t-shirts; you hated every bit of it. It wasn’t in you, however, to be rude, so you simply thanked them for their kindness and moved on.

After a light supper, you decided you would just spend the rest of the evening in bed. You brushed your teeth, put the toothpaste and toothbrush away, then decided to leave the bathroom light on, cracking the door slightly so that light still illuminated the bedroom. That with the television on in the background should help you sleep.

Since getting through the day took most of your energy and you needed a good release anyway, you pulled the new Rolling Stone issue from your bag. You settled under the comforter and against the pillows, pulling an extra one behind your back for more support.

Inside: Y/N Joseph Pays Tribute to Twenty One Pilots

You already knew the page number, so you flipped there quickly. There it was, your article recounting how you had met Tyler and Josh at a party for the magazine, quickly connected with Tyler and been married just under two years later, all the while forming a friendship with Josh that was just as strong as the one he had with Tyler. Just ahead of your article, in italics, was a foreword from the magazine. As if anyone needed a reminder or explanation for the event that had prompted your article.

In January of 2019, Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun were returning from the European leg of their tour when the plane carrying the two-man band and crew crashed in the mid-Atlantic. There were no survivors.

Instead of wiping your tears — because what was the point — you let them fall freely as you read over the final version of your article. In the interest of your own mental health and progress through the first stages of the grieving process, you had allowed your editor and Ashley to handle the final layout. They only needed a few pictures, but you couldn’t narrow it down, so they did — and they had chosen perfectly.

After you finished reading the article, you dropped the magazine on what should have been Tyler’s side of the bed. You let your head fall back so that you were staring at the ceiling, and rubbed your belly. In a couple more months, the bittersweet arrival of your first and only child with Tyler would no doubt bring you equal amounts of happiness and sadness, experiencing it all without him. Remembering that you would always have this child to remind you of the love you and Tyler had shared in those few, short years, was the one thing that kept you going anymore.

With that thought in mind, you closed your eyes and silently thanked your husband for leaving you with a small piece of him to get you through the darkest days on you would spend alone, then closed your eyes and attempted a much needed sleep.

#twenty one pilots #fanfiction #reader insert #tyler joseph x reader #tyler x reader #repost #angst #tw: death #tw: pregnancy

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reogou · 4 years ago

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Promise || bakugou.k

→ pairing: merman!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff

→ warning/s: swear words

→ word count: 5K+

→ A/N: This is my contribution to the Just Add Water || Mermay Event of @bnhabookclub . Lmao I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written asdfsdggk. Was really frustrated at this cuz I was taking way too long to finish this. And this went to so many edits ajfjfjg. A very big thank you to @writeiolite @clauclaustar @b0kuto and @lcaita for beta reading and for helping me edit this! Credits for @dailydoseofanimescenery for permitting me to edit their gif! Anyways, I hope you liked this! Enjoy!

→ prompts: “I’m trying really hard not to freak out right now.”

“That’s just an urban legend.”

→ tagging: @pretty-settersquad @t-amajiki

The full moon was in a full view as you sat by the shore of the beach, the calming sounds of the sea clearing your mind for a bit. The wind was somewhat cold, but it didn't faze you as you sat by the seashore, feet buried in the sand as you played with them. You could say that today was a great day to relax from all the stress and problems in your life. Your family decided to go on a trip to the Philippines, which was the reason why you're here. It was a great trip, you could say. The people were welcoming and the food here was great. One of your favorites was a street food delicacy called 'Isaw'. It's a barbecued pig or chicken intestines. At first you really didn’t want to try it, but after your mother encouraged you to eat it, you were surprised at how tasty it was.

The tourist spots were also majestic and beautiful. The beach was clean. You get to visit the falls too, which was one of the tourist spots you loved. The view was breathtaking, almost magical. Even though you didn't get to swim in the falls, the place itself was enough to astonish you. You also enjoyed singing karaoke together with the locals. It never bored you since they were all so lovely and always engaged in conversations with you.

This trip was not so bad, you enjoyed it. Really. It's just that something felt like a piece was missing. Something that’s somehow stuck in your head. Or rather, someone. Particularly Bakugou. The ash-blonde had always been in your mind for the past days, lingering and distracting you. You just missed him, very much.

Bakugou had been your crush ever since middle school. Though you only got to hang out with Izuku, the angry boy had always captured your attention. Ever since you had started attending UA, you had been given the chance to become closer to him. Despite his aggressive stance and obnoxious behavior, you never backed out and had always reached out to him. Now that you two had finally become friends, it filled your heart with joy.

Hanging out with Bakugou and the squad was one of the highlights in your week. But being away from them now, the sense of longing had built up inside you, making your heart feel like it had been longing for a particular emotion. You missed them so much. Not just Bakugou, but the whole class.

You trembled as a chill crawled down your spine. Perhaps it was the cold breeze, or the muted eeriness in the vicinity, but you felt like someone was watching your every move. You gripped your jacket close to your body to protect you from the cold, but the unsettling/disturbing feeling had remained; as if it had a diverse intent to make you feel anxious with your situation right now. You were certain that someone was staring at you. Fear crept inside you, but you merely shrugged it off. There's no way that an intruder could be here, lurking in the shadows. The resort was private and your family had exclusive access to it. Maybe it was just some workers or the night guards and maybe it was only your thoughts that had been bothering you to no ends.

Just as your nerves began to calm down, you almost jumped when a hand appeared in front of you making you scream. A loud laugh filled your ears. You turned around, glaring at Sero who was laughing at your reaction. He only laughed harder when you slapped his shoulders.

"Sero! I'm gonna fucking kill you! I almost had a heart attack because of you!" Your dark haired cousin just continued cackling, annoying you even more. How dare he ridicule you when you were genuinely scared by the unnerving feeling you felt just now?! It didn't even help when he surprised you like that! If you were holding a knife right now, you would've stabbed him already!

Out of annoyance, you gripped onto his hair. Sero immediately shouted out in pain but he was still laughing. Goodness, he even had the audacity to cry out of laughter!

"Ouch! Ouch!" He chuckled again, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I promise I won't do it again! Just please let go of my hair!"

You growled at him, still annoyed at his actions. "Stop laughing, you idiot! Or I will really pull your hair out!"

You gave him another slap on the shoulders before letting go of his hair. Sero massaged his aching scalp before chuckling again. He was quick to jump out of your reach before you could lunge at him again. You returned your attention back to the calming sea and hugged your knees, turning away from the pesky prick behind you. Of course, Sero had to annoy you more by sitting beside you. In retaliation, you found yourself admiring the moon from above in hopes of regaining your own composure.

"You're really scary when you get angry you know," he snorted, making you glare at his direction. "You always get so violent. I'm starting to think that Bakugou's attitude have influenced you."

You tensed, just a mention of the ash-blonde made you miss him even more. Sero noticed your change of attitude from earlier.

"You okay?" The dark-haired boy stared at you with curious eyes, his features softening. It was not a secret from the Bakusquad that you had feelings for that angry boy. Not because you were open about it, but your actions were enough for them to know who it is.

Your gaze shifted to your toes. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just missing someone."

Sero gave out a sigh and looked over the moon in front of you. "I miss them too."

You turned your head towards the black-haired boy, resting your cheeks on your knees.

"By now, we should be going back to the dorms after a drink in the bar. We would probably be dragging a drunk Kaminari while Bakugou would lecture him for being a dumbass and drinking too much even though Aizawa-sensei will check on us in the morning."

You chuckled at his words, already imagining the scenario. It's not far from reality, though, but you wouldn’t be sober enough to remember the details since you would be a drunken mess too.

"Yup. It would happen."

As you two talked about the Bakusquad, your memories of UA and Class A crossed your mind. You tried to shake off those thoughts and forget all the problems you left in Japan, just for today. You wanted to break free from all that chaos right now. Someone might question your decisions because you were aiming to be a hero, but then all you did was run away from your problems. But you couldn’t help it. If you let it get to your mind, you will surely lose control of yourself. And you don’t want that.

"Well, enough of that. We'll only miss them more." Sero looked over to you, a glint of excitement slowly flashing in his eyes. "Have you heard of the legend about the Mermaids?"

A mischievous grin was plastered on his face, making you roll your eyes. “That’s just an urban legend.”

"But what if it's true? They say that mermaids of the modern era hide in the deepest part of the sea, some also hide amongst the people to protect their identity. Since they bring fortune and luck, pirates and yakuzas always hunt them down and capture them, the reason why numerous numbers of them are killed due to pain and from the tortures."

"Sero, you're too old for that crap. Do you really believe that mermaids are still alive nowadays? They're probably extinct already."

"You never know! Besides, I also learned from the locals that mermaids often gather in the oceans of the Philippines because they're one of the few countries who don't kill mermaids."

You scoffed at him, not buying his theories. "Even if the Filipinos didn't kill them, they would probably be killed by other countries already."

"But-" Just when Sero was about to defend his theory, your grandmother called you back for dinner, interrupting your conversation. As you walked back towards the resort's lounge, both of you were oblivious of the vermilion eyes gleaming in the dark, staring at your figure.

The sounds of crashing waves filled your ears as you stared at the sea in front of you. The waves were a little rougher today. The moon was still in view, but partially hidden by the clouds. Nevertheless, gazing at the moon could always calm you down. Regardless of where you were, or whether the moon could be seen that night, you always took comfort in knowing that the moon was there to guide you.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when soft murmurs reached your ears. Out of curiosity, you peeked at the other side of the rock formations. The whispers were still a little indistinguishable, so you decided to inch closer. You knew you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but there's just something inside you telling you to find out who was behind those rocks.

“...shouting, Y/N wouldn't notice us! If we ever get caught, it's your damn fault!"

Your eyes widened at the mention of your name. Your heartbeat halted momentarily as you felt your mind go blank. Why were you being mentioned? And more importantly, who the hell were they? Determined to find out, you tip-toed towards them, only to find a familiar head of ash blonde hair in front of you.

Katsuki?

Katsuki scoffed under his breath as he swam towards the shore of Palawan, a Filipino beach that doubled as their hideout. He just came back from Japan after a mission to send some supplies to the western groups. The trip was pretty short since mermaids and mermen were able to swim faster than any other sea creature.

If anyone knew of Bakugou being a merman, they would've laughed their asses off and think that the idea was ridiculous and impossible. But the world is filled with surprises, and one of those is Bakugou being a merman. If Shitty Hair and the other's were to see him in his merman form, they would most likely freak out.

"Bakugou, have you already sent the supplies to the western groups?" One of the leaders of the eastern group greeted him. With a face void of emotions, Bakugou stopped swimming and nodded at the leader, his ash-blonde hair floating with the waters. The leader looked at him in the eyes, examining his expression.

"You know you don't have to do this, Bakugou." The leader spoke, his expression softening. Bakugou only scoffed and turned away, clicking his tongue in the insides of his cheeks.

"Shut up." The leader heaved out a sigh. Bakugou growled as the leader patted his shoulders. He only chuckled at Bakugou's reaction and smiled warmly at the young merman.

"If you really want to see her, she's just by your reach. She's the reason why you're here at the headquarters, right? You did that again yesterday. What's the difference if you do it again?"

Bakugou clicked his tongue once more and glared at the man in front of him. "The hell are you saying, old man?"

Shaking his head, the leader just let the rudeness of the young merman go. After all, the whole clan was used to Bakugou’s attitude ever since he was a child. Even though Bakugou always made snarky comments and pushed them away, they know what he's going through on the lands, and still understand where he's coming from.

"Anyways, I'm gonna head out. You can visit her again if you want. She's at The Coast right now." Bakugou's body tensed after realizing that you were so near. Just a few miles from his reach.

Although he doesn't openly portray his feelings well, he does miss you. A lot. His world just doesn't feel the same when you’re gone. Every time he has to go back to the ocean and leave you, the feeling of loneliness clung to him. It felt like he couldn't live without you in his reach. And it was painful. So painful that all he wants is to come back and be with you, even though you don't know his feelings for you.

"Good luck, young man." Was the leader's last words before he swam away, the pressure from his tail and speed making Bakugou lose balance. He clicked his tongue in exasperation and began to swim towards the headquarters. But it felt like something was pulling him off course, tugging him towards the direction of The Coast, where you were. He tried to ignore it and continue his way towards the headquarters, but the force was too powerful to fight with. The more he struggled, the more he was being dragged towards you. Shutting his eyes closed in frustration, Bakugou heaved out a sigh.

"Ah...fuck it."

As soon as Bakugou's head emerged from the waters, the calming lights from the resort greeted him. He scanned his surroundings, searching for your silhouette. And there you were, sitting by the rocks, your serene face gazing at the moon above you. His eyes softened at your appearance, but he immediately shook his head to empty his thoughts. Careful to not alert your sense, he started swimming towards your direction slowly. Just when he was about a few inches from you, a hand shot out and pulled his arm down the ocean. Bakugou’s brows immediately furrowed at the sudden tug, and he turned around to glare at the culprit, Awase, who was scowling at Bakugou as well.

"What the fuck, Bakugou? Do you want to get caught or something? What the hell was that?"

"Oi, what the fuck, extra?! Who the hell told you to drag me down so easily, huh?! You wanna fight?!" Bakugou's deep voice echoed in the waters, making Awase's eyes widened in fear.

"Shut the hell up man! She could hear you!" Awase hissed at him, tightening his grip on Bakugou's shoulders.

"Let go of me, you asshole!" Bakugou shrugged the other merman's arms off of him, growling.

"Bakugou, this is not the right time to fight! Let's get out of here before she notices us!" Awase tried to pull him away from the rock formations, but Bakugou was persistent and refused to leave, glaring at the merman.

"No fucking way, asshole. You don't have the right to boss me around. And stop following me, will you?!" Before Awase could stop Bakugou, but the ash-blonde was already swimming back to the surface. When Bakugou emerged from the waters, he noticed that you were still staring at the sky above. Bakugou attempted to swim closer towards you, but Awase had already caught up and tried to stop Bakugou yet again. Out of irritation, Bakugou growled at him, making Awase flinch a little.

"Bakugou, I swear to god, let's go before she sees us!" Awase was getting more and more desperate. Why can't Bakugou understand him? If Bakugou got caught, he would face grave consequences. Why was Bakugou acting so reckless?

"What the fuck are you even fussing about?" Bakugou was boiling with anger, and his fury was evident on his face. "If you just stop shouting, Y/N wouldn't notice us! It would be your damn fault if we got caught!"

Suddenly, a small yelp interrupted their heated argument. Awase flinched at the unexpected noise; horror could be seen on his face as he slowly looked at the young girl behind him, who was trying to peek at the two mermen. In shock, you smiled nervously at them, subtly shifting backward for fear that they would harm you.

"Uh... hi?"

"What the fuck?!"

Out of panic, you lost your balance, a loud shriek escaping your lips as you fell into the water. While underwater, you saw their tails as you struggled to reach for air. Thankfully, Bakugou immediately caught you and brought you back to the surface. Your heart was beating erratically as you caught your breath. Preventing yourself from falling again, you grabbed onto Bakugou’s shoulders for support, your florid face buried in the crook of his neck as you desperately reinforced yourself to regain your composure. Once your breathing became steady, you came face-to-face with Bakugou.

What the heck? Your eyes widened as you took in the view in front of you. Why does this man have to be so hot? You watched as the water cascaded down from his soft hair onto his nose, to his plump lips, and to his chiseled jaw. You couldn’t help but gulp at his appearance - he looked like the Greek God of the ocean, Poseidon. While checking him out, your gaze lowered to his biceps, onto his exposed chest and abs. Ohlala~ Can someone bring in some coffee? The bread is already here.

"Done checking me out, Shitty woman?" His sharp words caught you by surprise, as you blushed at the realization that you were checking him out so openly. Out of embarrassment, you buried your head on his shoulders again to hide the blush painted on your cheeks. You wished the waters below you would cut you in half and swallow you alive.

"Now, don't be shy. You can stare all you want." Bakugou chuckled, making you whine and punch him playfully on the chest.

"Shut up."

“I’m trying really hard not to freak out right now.”

Bakugou sighed. Getting caught was not part of his plan. But there's nothing he could do about it. You already found out his secret.

"Y/N." Bakugou started, his voice a lot gentler than usual, causing you to flinch when he called out your attention. Not only is Bakugou a lot softer than he usually is, this was also the first time he addressed you with your real name, and not those stupid nicknames of his. Something inside you tingled at how your name rolled out of his tongue. You never thought that Bakugou calling your name would have an effect on you.

"Oi, are you listening?" Bakugou frowned.

"Oh, sorry." You chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of your head. "I was not listening. What did you say again?"

Bakugou heaved out a sigh. "I said, now that you already know what I am, you should not tell anyone about this. You understand that?"

You nodded in his direction, understanding his words.

There was a long silence as both of you stared at the moon, sitting on the rock formations once again. Bakugou had moved you here, after the incident a while ago. Awase excused himself after informing Bakugou that he has to take care of this mess before the leaders find out. You couldn't comprehend what was happening even until now. Seeing him sitting beside you, his gorgeous, golden tail in full view, all this felt like a dream. Not to mention the fact that you and Sero were just arguing yesterday about how mermaids and mermen are not real. But here you are, coming face-to-face with one of them. And out of all the mermen out there, Bakugou was one of them.

"Hey, Bakugou. I wanna ask something." You locked eyes with him, your eyes full of curiosity as they stared into his vermilion orbs. Bakugou raised both of his brows in your direction, awaiting your next words.

"What?" The unsettling feeling of anticipation and fear slowly crept up on Bakugou. He may not have shown it, but he was terrified for your reaction when he saw you staring at him with eyes wide in shock. What if you freak out and get scared of him? And now that you're starting to question him, all the emotions that he felt before unwillingly came crashing back. What were you gonna say? Would you ask him about being a merman? Would you ask him to stay away from you? Would you-

"What shampoo do you use?" You felt Bakugou freeze on the spot, an unexplainable expression plastered in his face.

"Hah?!" Out of all the things he was expecting you to ask, the shampoo that he uses was not one of them. Heck, it didn't even cross his mind!

"What did you say?!" You flinched at his shouting, starting to regret that you asked him about his shampoo.

"Is it...is it a secret?" As you spit out the words from your lips, your voice got smaller and smaller too. You backed out slightly, scared of what he might do to you. At this rate, you looked like a puppy who was about to get beat by it’s master. A Chihuahua, on that note.

"What?!" The ash-blonde merman stared dumbfounded at you. In disbelief, he couldn’t help but laugh at your ridiculous question. Meanwhile, you stared at him in awe. His face while laughing was so ethereal that it almost made you cry. Why the fuck does he have to be so beautiful?! Why? Shortly after, Bakugou stopped laughing but was still holding his stomach while wiping the tears away from his eyes.

"Ahh… that was a good laugh after ages." He chuckled at himself and looked over your direction. "This is why I admire you."

At this point, it was your turn to be frozen in place as his words slowly sank down your brain. Seems like Bakugou also realized what he said and froze too. Oh god. He gulped. A blush started to emerge on his cheeks as your face became red too. Trying to hide his embarrassment, Bakugou cleared his throat and focused on the moon hanging above the both of you, hiding his face from your line of sight.

"W-what I mean is that I-I just like your personality. It's not like I l-like you in a romantic way or whatever crap."

You snickered at his pathetic excuse. Even though Bakugou tries to hide it, the redness on his neck and ears didn't go unnoticed by you. You bet that if he turned around right now, his face would be as red as a tomato. You chuckled at that thought which made Bakugou glare at you.

"Stop laughing!" Ignoring his complaints, your laugh got louder when he turned to face you. Your assumptions was correct - Bakugou’s looks did resemble a tomato due to the intense redness on his face.

"You're so cute!" You were laughing so hard, your stomach started to hurt and tears started to well up at the corner of your eyes. The ash-blonde man hissed at you once more, the scowl on his face making it obvious of how annoyed he is right now.

"I said stop laughing! If you don't stop right now, I'm gonna throw you to the water." Despite his threatening words, Bakugou was actually enjoying this moment, seeing your cheerful face in front of him. All of this is just perfect. You're actually cute when you laugh, but there's no way in hell would he say that to your face.

"Ok, ok! I'm gonna stop now." However, you couldn’t stop chuckling. No matter how hard you tried, stopping was not an option right now. Bakugou clicked his tongue in irritation but didn't say anything. Once you've calmed down, you grinned at him, eyes shining with happiness.

"Bakugou…" You started, "I'm happy to see you right now."

Your words struck through Bakugou's heart. He was glad to know that you were content about seeing him. His heart skipped a beat at that thought and the blush on his face was tinted with a shade of crimson yet again. At this point, he was already sure of his feelings for you.

"Y-you should be, Shitty woman." He clicked his tongue again, hiding the smile that started to form. Chuckling, you gazed up at the moon, the stars surrounding it making the scenery even more beautiful. You could just sit here with him all day and you wouldn’t get bored. After all, this was what you wanted, to be with him even for just a bit.

"By the way..." Your brows shot up when Bakugou spoke, his eyes still glued at the moon. When he felt you staring at him, he turned towards you, brows arched.

"Aren't you cold?"

Now that he mentioned it, you were practically freezing right on your spot. The cold gust of wind didn’t help either and only added on to the chilly sensation.

"You should go and change first before you catch a cold." His calloused hands ran through his damp hair, the tiny droplets of water only made him look more handsome to the eye.

"I don't want to…"

"Huh? Why? Aren't you freezing? You wanna die or something?"

You grinned, a small giggle escaping your lips. Heaving out a sigh, you looked back at the moon above you, stars twinkling around the celestial body. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you gazed back at Bakugou, who was eyeing your every movement.

"I don't want this to end."

"What?"

"This," You pointed at him. "You and me." And then to your chest. "Us, conversing peacefully. I don't wanna stop or ruin this perfect moment by going back to my room to change, while knowing that by the time I'm done, you'll be gone."

Bakugou’s heart broke into pieces when he noticed the pain that crossed your crystalline eyes. He knows that you have feelings for him. And he knows he feels the same. He knows what you want, what you need. But he can’t give it to you right now. All he can give you now is assurance. That one day, after all of this comes to an end, he will come back to you.

A heavy sigh came out from his own lips as he shifted his weight to his arms and placed them behind him. There was an emotion that was plastered on his face you couldn’t name. "Go. Change. I won't be leaving." Bakugou glanced over his shoulders, eyes lingering on your face with that soft look of his, his vermilion eyes mirroring your own.

"I'll stay. Just trust me.”

Two sentences. Those five words were enough for your tears to drop one by one, your heart filling with joy and love for the man in front of you. You could genuinely feel the emotion behind his words. The assurance. The promise. His feelings. All of them embraced you as Bakugou stared at you with that emotion close to yours, an emotion you can finally name. The emotion called love.

"...wait."

A splash startled you when Bakugou jumped towards the waters. You waited for him to appear from the waters. You waited. And waited. But nothing. Minutes have passed but there was still no sign from him. Disappointment filled your heart at the thought that he already left. Didn’t he promised to stay? He didn't even wait for you to leave. You tried to think if it as a logical explanation. Maybe he had some errands to do. But would it hurt to say a simple goodbye to you? Was that really hard to do? A sigh escaped your lips as you fumbled with your fingers, distracting yourself from the aching pain growing in your heart. You thought that maybe, your relationship with him somewhat grew. You were certain, so sure that he feels the same way about you too. It may not be the same level as your feelings, but you know that he’s starting to like you too. The blush on his face, the stark emotions on his face, and his softness a while ago were enough clues for you to connect the dots. Bakugou was never that soft to anyone, only to you.

"Hey." You looked over your shoulders when you heard a voice coming from behind you. Seeing the familiar smooth ash-blonde hair of his, the feeling of euphoria and excitement filled your heart when you saw Bakugou below you, hair damp from the waters. He was holding a plastic bag with jeans inside it. You closed your eyes when a light appeared around his body, hurting you a bit. As soon as the blinding light disappeared, you came face-to-face with Bakugou's chest. You shrieked out of shock and moved backwards, your face turning red once more at the realization that the ash-blonde male was naked in front of you.

"What the hell, Bakugou!" You immediately shielded your eyes to prevent seeing something you will regret. “Get dressed!”

Bakugou snorted at your reaction, amusement dancing in his red orbs. “It’s not like you don’t want to see my body.”

“Bakugou!” Bakugou only laughed and got dressed. When he was done, you felt a piece of warm cloth placed around your shoulders, the comfort making you purr a little. He pulled your hands away from your face and handed you a white, glowing pearl. It was so beautiful you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

You looked up at him with your eyes filled with curiosity, “What’s this?”

“It’s a pearl, dumbass.” His cheeks started growing red and he averted his eyes from you. “It’s a...a p-promise pearl for us...mermen…”

“Oh…” Your cheeks heated up, as a tinge of red hue began to dust it as you blinked at the information he gave, gripping at the blanket wrapped around you. What does he mean by that? Is he...giving you hints? Or what?

"Uh...why would you give this to me?"

"Don't you understand, dumbass? I'm giving that to you as a promise that I will claim you when the day comes. So take that shit and put it in your forehead."

"Huh?!" You felt like your world was spinning. You don't understand why Bakugou was saying this all to you. You felt utterly bewildered by all that’s happening right now.

"Bakugou-," Bakugou clicked his tongue before snatching the white pearl from you. He kissed the pearl and placed it on your lips. Your cheeks burned even more when you realized that you had just kissed Bakugou indirectly. His calloused pads grazed on your soft cheeks as he pulled the pearl away from you, the pearl now flat on his hands. You were amazed at how he did that, but the pain on your forehead distracted you.

"Ouch! Bakugou, it hurts!" You tried to back away from him, but Bakugou placed his hands firmly on the back of your head to stop your struggling.

"Shhh...don't worry, just endure it a little bit more. The pain will go away." He cooed, his hot breath fanning the top of your head, sending butterflies into your stomach. When the pain subsided, you stared at Bakugou's features.

"Bakugou..." He arched his brows while still looking at the pearl on your forehead.

"What?"

"Why are you so...I don't know, soft right now?"

Bakugou stilled at your words. "W-what? I'm not, idiot."

You just smiled at him.

"You promised, ok?"

A long silence fell between the both of you. You thought Bakugou wouldn't answer, but his hands dropped on your shoulders, his grip tightening as he raised your chin up, making you look directly at his eyes.

"I know." He whispered, just enough to reach your ears. "But I wouldn't call that as a promise. I don't want to break that. So I will do all of my best to make you mine. You understand? So don't let any other man get close to you. Especially Tape Face." He gritted his teeth at the memory of you and Sero talking last night.

"What? But he's just my cousin!" You laughed.

"I don't care. Tsk. Now go and change your clothes or you'll catch a cold."

"Ok." You stood up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheeks before running away from him, giggling at yourself. "I'll be back, Bakugou!" You couldn't believe that you just kissed Bakugou on the cheeks. You felt like a highschool teenager at that moment, gushing over her crush.

"Y/N!" You stopped on your tracks and turned around, facing Bakugou whose face was once again red.

"It's Katsuki."

Your heartbeat raced 10 times faster. It was like you ran 3 kilometers in just a minute at how fast your heart raced inside your ribcage. A genuine smile appeared on your lips, smiling cheerfully at the ash blonde just a few meters away from you. At that moment, everything felt so right, everything felt so surreal. Like a happy ending in a disney movie, with the two main characters starting a new journey together. A new chapter in a book, the book that contains the story of you and Bakugou's. Of you and Katsuki's.

"Okay, Katsuki."

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