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ladycatofwinterfell · 4 months ago

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I know I’m making these posts for an audience of one (1) person and that person is me. But I like writing it out, it’s easier to make sense of all my thoughts and impressions that way. And it will give me something to look back on ahead of or during next season.

And so here it is. Thoughts on episode 8.

Maybe this time I’ll start with what I didn’t like and then do it more or less chronologically. Yeah, let’s do it that way.

The episode felt kinda… idk, clunky to me? It feels like maybe some things would have benefited from being a little more drawn out. And with that I’m especially thinking of the Louis/Armand divorce. After their fight in ep.5 I guess I was expecting more at the reveal that caused the end of their relationship. Something even more explosive. Or an actual confrontation. Though I guess we’ve been slowly seeing their relationship fall apart during the season and this was just the very last thing that cemented the end of it. I also would have liked more of Louis burning down the theatre. The cut between the New Orleans scene and Daniel's tv appearance was also a little abrupt for my taste.

The thing with Armand wanting Louis dead kinda annoyed me at first because it just straight up doesn’t make any sense for me. It just felt evil. It might be the bias that I went in expecting his motivation to be the same as in the books that brought this feeling out in me, but I really wanted that. He wanted Claudia dead so he could have Louis, it was never his intention for both of them to die. Though after a couple of rewatches I'm more willing to accept it. Armand seems to desire stability and reassurance and at that point in their relationship Louis could not promise him that. He refused to join the coven and was actively agitating members of it, which brought danger to Armand. He could not trust Louis to stay with him in the long run and so he chose his coven of 200 years. And when he realised it was not going according to plan he improvised in the hope of that he would land on top. And he did. And so I choose to trust them on this decision for now in the hopes of the next season giving more clarity. This season left Armand’s character in a similar place that Lestat was left in last season, the place as the villain in the story. This season gave nuance to Lestat without changing all of the bad things he did last season. And I hope the same will be true for Armand. And if it isn't I'll take the evil gremlin. I don't hate the evil gremlin. Armand <3

NOW! Good things. Because there are a lot of them. I saw that some people didn't really like this ep and while I consider it the weakest of the season it's still great. So let's talk about it.

Louis' monologue at the beginning of the episode is so good. Jacob Anderson is so good. I've fallen in love with both Louis and Jacob and it's all due to this wonderful performance. Wondering what he could have done differently to avoid ever falling for Lestat and reaching the conclusion that it was inevitable. There was no version of events where he didn't kiss Lestat on the altar (loooooove that they've leaned into the wedding implications of that in both this ep and ep 7). And so there was no version of event where all this could have been avoided, it was inevitable. He's probably right, it was inevitable, and that's part of the tragedy babey! And Claudia is dead. Claudia doesn't exist any longer. Her absence this episode is so striking. While it's all about her she's not truly there and there's a gaping hole where she was before.

His manic planning was also just beautifully acted. And it paired with Dubai scenes of Louis and Armand being like noooo Daniel you don't understand Armand was also a victim :( we prooooomise :( and Daniel just quietly waiting for when he can drop what he's discovered. Seeing Louis burn down the theatre was so satisfying. Setting fire to those who had wronged not him but Claudia and saving her things from that fire. Taking the last physical remains of her and committing murder with them in his bag <3 him knowing he can get Santiago by agitating and mocking him. and saying come to me???????? iwtv writers what the fuck were you on because I want some. All through the season I've been just a little in love with Santiago because of Ben Daniels' incredible performance and the fun pizzazz he brought to the character. With that said I was happy to watch him die after he said the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life about Claudia's ashes. Burn in hell bitch. All love to Ben Daniels though.

The scene with Armand afterwards? Where Armand admits to lying but not about that he played an active role in it? He knows he can't deny that he knew it would happen, but he knows he can deny it was largely due to him. Giving him a little of the truth, a bit he's carefully curated, just enough for it to be believable? Excellent.

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT!!! For now we'll just go with that I was wrong and that Lestat was chilling out in the dungeon out of his own free will (even though I still suspect we'll hear a different version later on. and if we don't and that was the truth i'm fine with it). Louis going to him with full intent of killing him that time, of burning him for what he did to Claudia. For crossing an ocean to rehearse a play that would burn his daughter alive. Big fan of them reversing to Claudia being their daughter btw. While she wanted to be their sister, while they called her their sister she never was their sister. That was their daughter. That was their little girl, as tragic as that is. Anyhow. He can't burn Lestat because Lestat has the blood of Akasha in him (Akasha mention let's fucking go). He can't kill Lestat. But he has to hurt him, he NEEDS to hurt him. And so he hurts him by being with Armand. I'm a big believer in that Louis and Armand really did love each other in the beginning and that their relationship was genuinely built on a connection. But that changes in Magnus' tower. That's when Armand becomes the rebound, that's when he becomes the companion Louis kept out of spite because he could not hurt Lestat in any other way then and there.

End of story. Armand breaths a sigh of relief, even allows himself to gloat a little. Too bad for him that Daniel is out for blood and is just itching to bring down his empire of lies. He points out flaws in Louis' story. He points out inconsistencies. And then he slams down the scrips for the trial that has Armand's notes scribbled in the margins. Because it was Armand. Armand had an active role in it. Armand wanted him and Claudia dead. Lestat saved Louis at the trial, and he didn't look very healthy in that version. He looked pale, he looked like the swaying Lestat we saw briefly just before Claudia died. Love how in the version of the trial from the previous ep Lestat wears black while Armand wears white, and when we see them rehearsing it's the other way around. Anyway I fell completely for that it was Armand that saved Louis, I believed it because that's what happened in the book, but it was a nice twist that it was Lestat. I think Sam Reid said he believes Lestat would have saved Claudia if he had had the energy for it, but he was simply not well enough to use his powers to save them both. Cool, doesn't at all make me want to die. Daniel lives for the drama, I'm here for it. His dramatic reveal was incredible. Louis snaps, as one might do when one finds out one's partner of 77 years murdered one's daughter and then fucked with one's head so one can't remember the truth of it. Him throwing Armand into the wall where the paintings were before but that they left bare because they couldn't agree on what to put up there? Fucking poetry.

Louis getting his accent back when he leaves Dubai is so beautiful. He lived in that grey and soulless apartment, spoke in a way that wasn't his own, wore only black. And now he's in New Orleans. He goes on a little tour that includes part of his own life and smiles at the incorrect things said like he's fondly reminiscing about it. And he is. He might have told a story that wasn't entirely how it actually happened in the interview, but it helped him to process some very painful things. It led him to come to terms with it in a way that he simply couldn't before. And now he's treated like a respected person, not looked down upon the way he was when he left New Orleans. And he sees a vampire catching rats, and he follows that vampire.

Okay so let’s get to the elephant in the room. The Louis/Lestat scene. Because while my first thought was Louis, girl, GET UP!! I really enjoyed the scene. Out of everything in the episode that one hit the hardest and how could it not? I’ve already come out as a loustat enjoyer, you know how it is (this show is very much not about shipping for me, but it’s also built on the relationships between all characters and loustat is simply THE relationship). He follows the young vampire and finds a Lestat that's a shadow of his former self. He returned to New Orleans because New Orleans is his home, but he hasn't been living there. He says he has, but that wasn't a life. He's been punishing himself ever since Paris, lived in atonement for what he did. He denies himself everything. Eats rats, lives in a shack, wears the robe he wore the first night he and Louis spent together, he even denies himself the joy of playing the piano. AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WE SEE LESTAT!!!! this is the first time we see Lestat in the flesh and not through someone's memory of him. And he's the most pathetic wet dog of a man you've ever laid eyes on. Gone is the grandiose personality and the seductive presence. He's just so sad. And he has an ipad. Who gave this man wifi??? and taught him to use siri???? I was taken off guard by siri pause, it was very funny. And while it wasn't the same tone as the rest of the scene it worked. Shows we're in the presence, grounds the scene in, idk, realism? Like it's not a big thing, a great happening, it takes place in the real world. With that said it is a great happening and I’ll be thinking about it for the rest of my life. The way Sam and Jacob acted the entire scene is so great (as always with those two). The initial gentleness from Louis at seeing what has become of Lestat. Lestat being a very miserable and watered down version of himself but not without a lot of the same mannerisms as before (the way he moves his head when talking, his little shoulder shimmy, the way he drums his hand against his board). I like Lestat holding the board in front of him like a shield until they get to the point where Louis asked why he didn't say that he saved his life in Paris. And Lestat questioning if it was saving him. Louis thanking Lestat for the gift of time is sooooo touching. He wore vampirism like a curse, couldn't accept it, but he's come to realise that the nights he has ahead of him means something. He can use those nights to learn to live honestly. And it truly is beautiful that after having seen Louis struggle with vampirism for two seasons that he can embrace his own nature in a different way and consider it something positive that he has eternity to do right by himself and others. And Lestat, upon hearing that, asking about if he tried to end his life in 1973. If it was truly so bad he hurt himself. Which ties very well into his doubts about if he truly did save Louis in Paris. And he's clearly spent a lot of time thinking about this because he remembers the exact date and the exact time, both in New Orleans and in San Fransisco, when he heard from Armand. And that's the only time he's heard about Louis since they left Paris!! More than 70 years and all he knows of Louis is that something terrible happened to him in 1973. And when Louis says he was lost he immediately brings up Claudia, because of course it's about Claudia. He can't stop thinking about her either. And perhaps this (apart from the unbreakable vampire bond) is what will always tie Louis and Lestat together from now on. That they are the only two people in the world that understand the loss of Claudia and that knew the joy of Claudia when they lived together in New Orleans. No one else fully understands their pain. Lestat blames himself for the trial, Louis blames himself for the turning of Claudia in the first place. Both of them think themselves partly responsible for her death. And in a way they are, but they didn't mean for that to happen and it will haunt them for the rest of their lives.

New paragraph because Tumblr forbid me from having one that long. It's the first time that has ever happened to me. Cool, I love this show. Anyway Louis heard from Armand that Claudia looked to Lestat in her last moment, but now he hears it from Lestat. He hears Lestat say she looked at him like he was her father, and then try to continue by saying he never was her father but the thing is that he was!! They were always her fathers. She referred to him as her uncle until she refused to be anything but a grown sister, but he was always her father. That was their daughter. Even when things were bad, even when she resented and hated them (especially Lestat), even when she tried to kill Lestat. Claudia was their daughter. In her last moment she did look to her father. The father that didn't save her. Side note, if they do "Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart" next season I'll die, I think. Claudia and Lestat are so interesting, character dynamic of all time if I'm being honest. Anyway they hug and it's such a relief for both Louis and Lestat. Finally they're embracing each other, sharing some comfort about Claudia's death, which is something they've both been denied for an entire human lifetime. And there's a storm going on around them, it sounds like the house will fall apart. 1 "Another round in the stormy romance of you two" and 2 "I was just a roof shingle that flew off of your house". Nothing is about Claudia because everything is about the two of them and it's always been that way, but simultaneously everything is about Claudia. And it's so deliciously tragic that everything becomes about her only after she dies. She could not be that while she was alive, she had to die for them to realise that. Just as with Claudia and Madeleine I love that we can't hear what they're saying to each other, again that's not for us to know. It's just for the two of them. Jacob and Sam deserve to have that.

And on a completely different note VAMPIRE DANIEL!!!! I saw him wearing sunglasses indoors and was like wait a moment... and then I saw his nails and YES he's a vampire!! Sad they've already burned half of my wishlist for season 3, but I can't be too upset about it. Daniel upon becoming a vampire immediately returning to his annoying and rash and twitchy 20-year-old self is gold. Becoming dated in his leather jacket and acdc shirt the same way Lestat became in his silk cravats. He's an old man physically but a very young vampire and it shows as soon as we see him. He's cocky and seems to think himself invincible, proudly proclaiming for all that will listen that vampires exist. I saw people upset that his turning was off screen but I like it. We know what's implied, we can definitely imagine approximately what took place after Louis told Armand not to touch Daniel. DID I HEAR MAITRE ONLY WHEN IT'S HOT OR CONVENIENT??? I'm a strong believer in that we'll get devil's minion, only in a different format than the one in the books, I'm not willing to give up on it. Louis and Daniel's relationship continuing is great though, and Daniel calling Armand an asshole wasn't bad either. Daniel pushing for more books because he's high on everything and on top of life. Great idea to make an addict into a creature whose entire existence revolves around the next fix.

Louis wears patterns now! He has a yellow couch! There are flowers on a table and a colourful painting on the wall! Claudia's dress is up on the wall, as is a portrait of Paul! The magnolia tree is gone, it's simply his little garden now. The apartment is his, he himself is his own. And the other vampires want to kill him for Daniel's book, and he lets them know they're welcome to try and fuck with him. Because he owns the night. When I saw him I was at first afraid of that Lestat would also be there with him, and I'm so glad he wasn't. I'm so glad that for now Louis is on his own, learning to live with himself and be himself again. I'm so glad that it ended with the focus on only him. Jacob Anderson as Louis de Pointe du Lac, you will always be famous. Also relieved it's been at least partly confirmed that while Lestat will narrate next season Louis will not take a step back, it's still also about him. I love Louis <3

#vampyrernas teater #can't believe it's over #but at least we have confirmed season 3!!!!! I will have these messy fuckers back on my screen and it will be great

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double-hoe-seven · 3 years ago

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Do The Right-est Thing

Summary: Sam just needs that extra reassurance in knowing he did the right thing. Couple: Sam Obisanya x Reader Word Count: 1,065 Warnings: Fandom: Ted Lasso Rating: Fluff

"Sam, are you openly accusing the Nigerian government of corruption?" Trent Crimm, The Independent, asked, all eyes on Sam as they waited for an answer. "Yes, I am," Sam said simply with a small smile as the reporters began talking over one another. You felt yourself smile some as you watch him start fielding questions. The only thing that took your attention away from the TV was the babbling noises coming from the bundle in your arms. "Shh, it's okay Isaac, you're almost done with the bottle," you whispered with a soft hum. You turned the volume on the TV down so you could rock him to sleep when he finished his formula while still watching Sam's interview, slowly pacing back and forth in front of the television. The eight-month-old finally went down after an hour and a half and you let out a relieved sigh as you sat down for a break. The minute your head hit the throw pillow on the couch, you were out.

You woke up an hour later when the sun was starting to set. When you checked your phone, you had a few messages from friends asking about everything and a couple of messages from Sam himself, including a picture of the entire time with tape over the 'Dubai Air' name on their jerseys and beers in their hands, clearly mid-celebration. You shot back a quick message telling him to have fun and say 'hey' to everyone for you before getting up to tidy some. You wouldn't say you were overly neat or a clean freak but you liked things in their places-or at least, near their places and having a baby made that all the more challenging.

Your fiance ended up coming home around ten, shortly after you'd fed and bathed your son and showered yourself. You had just gotten dressed in your pajamas, shorts and one of Sam's jerseys, when he entered your shared flat. He had a nervous smile on his face when he came into the bedroom "is the little man asleep?" You nodded some "he is. Are you alright?" Sam tried to force a bigger smile but failed to make it look real, shaking his head with a sigh as he collapsed into bed next to you. "C'mere, love, what's wrong?" You asked, prompting him to put his head his your lap. You began massaging his shoulders and neck to help him relax; he released a sigh and closed his eyes "I'm just- I'm worried I might have made the wrong choice today." "What do you mean?" You asked with a hum. "Well, we lost the game tonight, probably because of my stunt. I mean, what if they demand that AFC drops me? What if the rest of the team doesn't want me around because this gets them in trouble?" He questioned nervously. "Oh, Sammy," you said with a soft sigh, frowning at the words.

"I mean, what if this was the wrong choice? What if I should've just kept my mouth shut and my head down?" He asked nervously, worry quickly etching its way onto his features. "Sam, standing up for something is never wrong," you reassured. "But this is the team's biggest sponsor, they could make or break us for this! God, did I just ruin everything?" He thought out loud as he began to panic. "Sam, look at me," you said firmly as you looked down into his deep brown eyes, holding his head so he couldn't look away. When his eyes finally met yours, you spoke "don't think before answering this question. Would you do the same thing again?" "But-" he started before you stopped him. "No thinking. Yes or no, would you do it again?" You repeated. "Yes." He said. "Then were you really wrong for standing against something?" You asked, a hum leaving your smiling lips.

"No, I suppose I wasn't," he said quietly, clearly still nervous. "I'm sorry what was that? I couldn't hear you," you said. "I said no! I wasn't wrong!" He said, this time sounding more genuine like he believed it. "Sam, you know you did the right thing today. You showed Cerithium Oil, Dubai Air, and everyone that you can't be bought. You're a kind, generous, and brave man Sam and what you did today took courage. Everyone is beyond proud of you, you know," you looked down at him with a smile, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone slowly. He finally returned a smile, albeit a bashful one "the team were all pretty proud of me, we all had drinks in the locker room after my interview. Everyone was so supportive, even Jamie!" "You're an amazing man, Sammy, and I can't wait for Isaac to grow up and be just like you," you swore sweetly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Sam immediately reciprocated, setting his hands over yours.

You sat back up after several moments when your back started to hurt from leaning over. "How was our little guy today, hm? I missed him and you so much during the game," Sam asked happily. "He was perfect, love, just the happiest little boy in the whole wide world. I'm pretty sure he did miss you too though; we were at the park and he saw some kids playing football, one of them was in a Roy Kent jersey, and I think he recognized the ball and the colors because he almost started crying right there." "I wanted to cry too, being away from you both all day was awful," Sam joked lovingly.

"Well how about tomorrow we'll come visit you at the stadium?" You suggest happily. "Oh, that's a great idea! Everyone would love to see you both again!" Sam readily agreed. "Then it's settled, we'll come by around lunch when everyone's taking a break. Does Isaac still think we named our son after him?" You asked and laughed quietly. "He does, I've stopped trying to convince it otherwise," Sam laughed. He hopped out of bed so he could change into his own pajamas, quickly falling back into bed with you after. He pressed a soft, quick kiss to your lips and grinned "goodnight, my love." "Night, babe," you said with a yawn as you turned off the light, snuggling into his side for a peaceful night. Well, it'd be peaceful until Isaac wakes up at two in the morning like he always does.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker

#Sam Obisanya #Sam Obisanya x Reader #Sam Obisanya Fluff #Ted Lasso #Coach Lasso #Jamie Tartt #Roy Kent #AFC Richmond

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miekasa · 3 years ago

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mie!! i’m so late to the party but i absolutely loved ‘NICE’, it made me feel so warm and fuzzy <33 it’s so unique to its own and the flow of it is beyond wonderful!

what is married life like for oc and eren in ‘NICE’? is it just like before/do you have any nice!husband!eren headcanons?

AHH I’m so happy you liked it and that you took the time to come and tell me!! Married life for them... doesn’t really differ from what their lives looked like before actually hehe. They were basically married without knowing it 🙄🙄 idiots to lovers or something like that; but here are a few head canons of the months immediately following NICE!

You officially got married in Paris on the fourth, not too long after Carla’s wedding. You guys flew in some officials, checked through all the technicalities, and signed the papers right on top of the Eiffel Tower (access granted by the city of Paris upon request of one Carla Jaeger, of course).

Aside from having the most picturesque location in the world to sign your marriage certificate, there wasn’t anything lavish in celebration after that. Carla’s wedding was just three days earlier, after all, and was still the talk of the local press. You did have a small party with your friends (Jean, Armin, Mikasa, Marco, Erwin, Levi, Hange came from the Alps for Carla’s wedding) in your overly large hotel room. Just some music, room service, and lots and lots of champagne.

Eren extended your winter break vacation by two weeks for an impromptu honeymoon to the Bahamas before you went home. Let’s just say you did not leave the safe haven of your hotel room very often, except to dip into the ocean a few nights (benefits of a private beach).

After getting married, the rings swapped places; the band with diamonds previously on your pointer finger was put on a chain (a new one since Eren threw the other one on the ground 💀), and you now wear the engagement ring on your ring finger.

Eren doesn’t like it when you take off the ring (the ring being the engagement ring). The first time you were going into the water, you were going to put it on the chain for safekeeping, but he protested very strongly. He would rather it rest safely in your suitcase than go around your neck again.

Your wedding bands are actually very similar to the band you already have: gold and diamond encrusted. Eren’s, however, has an emerald in the center, like the two emeralds that serve as the pistils of the sunflowers in your engagement ring (for reference, that ring looks something like this, but with a gold band). The bands were the first thing Eren bought when you guys got home.

Your friends in Dubai (Ymir, Reiner, Annie, Connie, Sasha) had no idea that you and Eren got married over winter break. Safe to say they were all… very surprised to hear the news. Connie was a little bit bitter because he missed it, and wolf whistles every time he sees your ring (even though he’s seen it before because you wore it on the necklace every day).

You got married in January, but have an official wedding in the process of being planned sometime around late summer/early fall. Carla insisted that you guys have a wedding despite already being married, and Eren agreed whole heartedly. They are both very into planning it, and yes, Eren is somewhat of a bridezilla, and his mom is enabling him 100% please.

The night you signed the wedding papers, Carla lent you an off-white satin couture gown from one of her past collections. She is designing and making your official wedding dress by hand, with the help of Mikasa.

The two of them are also making Eren’s suit, and all the outfits for your wedding party. Carla will murder you if you even so much as hint at just buying other suits/dresses. This is her baby’s wedding, and she runs one of the most renowned fashion houses of the modern century; she’ll be damned if you guys wear something off the rack.

You considered a destination wedding, but settled on having it in New York. You haven’t decided a location yet, and it’s the one thing Eren isn’t actually picky about (because you know he’s gonna go ham on the decor no matter where it is bye).

Jean doesn’t know it yet, but he’s your maid of honor. Good luck and best of wishes to Eren picking between Mikasa and Armin for best man.

Even before confessing and getting married, Eren never slept much in his own bedroom. You both have California king sized beds in your rooms, and more often than not, Eren would sleep with you in your bed. You didn’t always cuddle, but he just liked to be there (for your presence, and because he was grossly in love bye)… you ended up cuddling a lot of the time tho.

He wants to renovate your apartment now that you both “officially” live in the same bedroom, even though it’s not necessary. He just likes renovating things.

You guys go to dinner every weekend, and sometimes you even go dancing. Eren still can’t dance and he doesn’t actually care to learn; it just reminds him of being in Nice with you.

He kisses your ring finger every morning waking up and every night before going to bed; sometimes he even does it subconsciously in his sleep.

He holds your hand way more often. Not just because you guys are together now, but because he likes seeing the ring where it’s meant to be. He also notices that it helps to curb your anxiety, which is a good bonus.

Eren wants kids, but he hasn’t really brought it up yet. He knows you both are fairly young, and that you’re still technically in school, but that’s not really a deterrent for him.

The only reason he’s waiting to say something is because you guys have a lot going on with wedding planning and settling in to “married life”—there’s a lot of tedious paperwork to be done and documents to update. He’ll bring it up next year when all that is settled.

On the subject of school, you are still attending university, but have been eligible for graduation for a year now. You had enough credits to graduate last (the year before NICE) December, but there were a few more classes you wanted to take out of interest that hadn’t been running in past years, so you stayed for all four years. Eren picks you up from your lectures.

Eren graduated in December before you guys went on vacation. By normal standards, that’s a semester early. However, he was supposed to be in this Honors Arts and Sciences program, that should have taken him another two semesters. He decided it wasn’t worth it, and dropped the honors part, and with that, had enough credits to graduate, so he did.

A college degree is really more of an accessory for him anyway, and school was never his thing. He’s decently smart, sure, but he never enjoyed school because of the emphasis on exams; he’s more of a creative person, a dreamer if you will. The only reason he even went to Columbia was because you decided to go there.

He and you both have enough money to live more than comfortably if neither of you decided to get a job after graduation… way more than enough/ But Eren isn’t doing nothing; he’s actually sorta been working his way into the world of professional interior design, and he really loves it. You’re proud of him, and more than anything, happy that he decided to go for something he loves.

Armin and Jean also graduated a semester early. Armin’s been living with Mikasa since Connie got his own place off-campus in January. Jean is a little upset blondie is living with his girlfriend before he is, but it’s whatever 🙄if it’s gonna be anyone, at least it’s Armin.

Carla mentioned that Eren got married sometime during a NYFW interview (along with talking about her own recent marriage), and since then you both have interviewed for two magazines, one of which featured pictures from your smaller party in Paris. You’ve gotten requests from Vanity Fair and Vogue about your bigger wedding later in the year, but you guys haven’t invited any media officials as of yet.

You and Eren attend the MET Gala almost every year. You don’t walk the red carpet and nobody is scrambling to take your pictures; but you have passes because of Carla. Also, you could just buy your way in if you wanted you (and your friends have in the past). This year, Eren had to pay two security officers $10k in bribes because you two snuck away to fuck in… a part of the museum not sectioned off for the event. Whoopsies.

Even before Eren got him arrested, going out to brunch was kind of your and Armin’s thing. Eren insists he should be invited now that he’s your husband. He is not. (His bitterness grows when he learns that Jean has secured himself an invite somehow).

Eren sold the car he got arrested for drag racing in. He never told you why—and as far as transportation goes, it wasn’t a big deal because you guys have other cars—but, to him, it was a kind of symbol. He thinks it’s dumb if he thinks too long about it, but he just didn’t wanna have that there are a reminder of how he’d hurt you and his mom.

Jean still drives you to your therapy appointments, but now Eren picks you up. Eren also goes to therapy himself, and has been before you guys got married; his therapist says he’s undoubtedly happier in recent sessions… like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulder.

As far as drugs go, there’s, of course, weed on a happy occasion, or at a party; but he hasn’t touched coke since that one time (which was also the first time he’d ever done it). That’s not even him being a changed man, he just didn’t like it—he only argued with you about it because he was being stubborn. He’s more of a drinker than anything, and absolutely loves to get you drunk on a special occasion, too; he always has. He thinks you look cute, and he likes taking care of you.

You have lived in that apartment with Eren for years before marrying him, yet he insisted you needed to christen the place like it was brand new… at this point, the only places you haven’t fucked in are the elevator itself, the foyer, the storage closet, and the pool. The latter only because it’s been too cold in NYC… trust and believe pool sex is coming lmfao.

Eren bought the apartment and renovated and designed it, but he never did like being in it all alone, and that’s been magnified since you got married. If he’s there by himself, he’s usually in the living area, napping on the daybed. He waits for your faithfully every day, and is hardly in the bedroom if you’re not.

Eren has not stopped introducing you as his wife since January. Even to people in passing like cashiers and bartenders, everyone in the whole damn city probably knows you guys got hitched.

#anonymous #oh i forgot how much i love this couple eren's so baby :((((( he loves her SO much its unberable #its A MIRACLE they didnt get together sooner #yes theyre only 21 in the fic but he was literally ready at 19 god i love him i love him i love himmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm #fic.ask #eren x reader

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coepiteamare · 4 years ago

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nine thousand, seven hundred nineteen kilometers

pairing: yoongi x female!oc genre: mild angst, it’s not fluff but it’s not angst, thieves oc & yoongi warnings: mild angst, oc and yoongi are thieves (think ocean’s 8/11-13, pickpockets in this drabble), lapslock word count: 1.4k

summary: you find love somewhere in between los angeles and new york and lose your heart in between paris and tokyo. (alt. maybe he’s the compulsion you can’t seem to shake, the ache that doesn’t fade even nine thousand, seven hundred and nineteen kilometers away)

paris is much quieter than the places you’re used to, but it’s not a bad thing.

you like having coffees in cafes, settling in nooks, and drinking in the scenery spread outside the window. there’s a slight soreness in your arms from the aerial act last night that you remedy with macarons and the cafe cat that comes to sit in your lap, nuzzling its nose in your turtleneck. but the itch in your fingertips refuses to subside: a dull craving that refuses to be muffled no matter how many hobbies you pick up, how many characters you adapt and abandon, how many miles you put between yourself and los angeles.

maybe you should move to amsterdam, you think as you thank the cafe owner. you contemplate luxembourg as you give the cat one last pet and leave behind a half eaten croissant. dubai is also pretty, you tell yourself as you bump into a youngman in a peacoat. hand into his pocket. you fall over, gripping on to his sleeve, as he reaches out to stabilize you. his prada wallet in your bag. you flash him a shy smile that could make the eiffel tower crumble. his watch on your wrist. you giggle an apology--i’m so sorry, i was distracted, i should have been paying more attention--and vanish into the crowd in a haze of vanilla and rose with his gucci tie clip in the pocket of your trench coat.

old habits die hard.

maybe it’s not a habit you’re trying to get rid of, something whispers in the back of your head, or maybe you’re not trying at all. shut up, you whisper back.

you close the door quickly when you enter your flat, letting the fall chill know it’s an unwelcome guest before it can settle in.

the apartment you live in is small, a little out of the way from central paris, but you like the trimmings on the cabinets and the colours of the wall. it feels lived in, less sterile than white walls, and it feels like what a home should feel like. there’s scratches on the countertop and smudges of the lives of tenants before you, and, really, you could do a lot better with the money from tokyo, but it was the first place that didn’t hiss at your insecurities in the sound of his voice. all the other ones you had seen had reminded you of him--walls painted with his laughter, banisters lined with the snap of his gloves, floors tiled in his stupid, ostentatious spending habits--and you had almost given up on paris, almost decided to live in the cheap motel with shitty coffee and questionable door locks because the first hotel you checked into had him written all over it (as did the next one and the next one and the next) until you found this apartment, cozy and in need of upkeep. i’m yours, it seemed to say; better yet, it said nothing at all. yours (whatever that meant).

“you should get better locks,” his voice rings, and you drop your purse, items clattering to the floor.

he looks just as you remember him: soft, wispy bangs against pale skin, dark eyes taking in more information than you could ever know, jaw and mouth sharp like he’d bite if you made the wrong move. the way the sun gently brushes him with a soft golden glow makes you wonder if he’s somehow conned the sun into working for him. (he’s always had a flair for dramatics, even if he claims there’s no room for theatrics in his plans.) you wrench your gaze away from him, your ribcage suddenly two sizes too tight for the thudding contraption it holds inside.

“have you ever thought locks were meant to keep people out, yoongi? that maybe people have locks to try and keep whatever’s inside them safe?” you pick up the items off the floor, carefully placing them back into your purse, trying to keep your voice steadier than your hands.

“i have a proposition for you,” he says, without missing a beat, like nothing happened in tokyo.

“would you have sought me out if you didn’t?” you mutter under your breath. you don’t like the bitterness that spreads through your mouth, the hurt that lingers like a bad aftertaste. “i’m retired,” you lean against the wall. you wonder if the scuff marks on the floor have been there a while. you try to look everywhere but him, but your training kicks in and you’re hypersensitive to everything he does: the way his shoulders are loose but his eyes are constantly moving, the way he still holds the tea cup like he did the first time he took you to a cafe 3 minutes after he met you, the way his left hand is still, unnatural, like he wants to drum them against the table or pick a lock, have something to do.

he hums and sips the tea in front of him. “i would have been a little quicker with the wallet,” your head turns to him in shock, “but other than that, it was a pretty solid job.” of course he was watching. there was nothing yoongi missed, from the stutter in your heartbeat to the thrum of your fingers against the wall. he drops his smile and his gaze bores into yours, but you feel the smug satisfaction smothering you like his cologne that still permeates your dreams, six months later and six thousand miles away.

“awareness of surroundings has gotten sloppy though.”

“fuck you.”

his shoulders shake as he laughs, breath catching with every inhale. it takes him a minute to collect himself, but the smile doesn’t fall. “the crew misses you.”

“more like you couldn’t find another acrobat,” you scoff. everything about this is painfully familiar: the sharp rapport, the sparks, him. it’s too easy to settle back into habit, even if you’ve been burnt before. it feels like diving back under the covers, body aching to crawl back to what it knows. the words slide out of your mouth before you have a chance to think about them, bitter and acrid. “were you even trying?”

“were you even trying? it’s like you wanted to get caught” he had scoffed, mouth acidic even at your tear stained face. “this isn’t a fucking performance you get to put on night after night. there is no safety net waiting to catch you. that-” he gestures at the wind, at the depository miles away from you, “whatever that was almost cost us this job.”

“i’ve missed you.” he smiles, and just like that, you hear the faint click, his words cracking the pin code on your ribcage and unlocking the heart you’ve tried so desperately to cage. you should have known better: there’s never been a lock yoongi couldn’t pick, a safe he couldn’t find his way into. nothing has been able to keep him out: not the gallery treasury in newport beach with its earthquake proof alarm system, not the cartier vault in new york city with its impressive randomized laser grid, and certainly not the flimsy, fickle alarm system of your heartbeat.

“how did you find me?” your voice is too soft, muddled under memories buried six feet under.

“have you ever seen me fail to get what i want?” he makes his way to you and doesn’t stop until you’re pressed against the wall, the tips of his shoes against yours. sandalwood tickles your throat as you take a breath. his nose brushes against yours, pink lips mere centimeters away.

“i meant what i said, your awareness of your surroundings needs work.” his breath fogs your clarity. “besides, if they wanted to keep things safe, maybe they should try a bit harder. i’m just here to prove that all things can be found.” he taps a finger against your nose lightly, mouth stretching into a smile before he makes his way towards the door with his hands in his pocket. he doesn’t turn back to look at you. “you know how to find me.”

you stand there, dazed, until the faint tap, tap, tap of the rain against your windowpane breaks the fog, sun submerged in velvet darkness.

maybe he’s just as potent as a habit, just as hard to kill.

you find a plane ticket to los angeles in your backpocket, a burner phone in your coat pocket. your safe door is wide open, contents untouched, with a post it note on top.

it’s like you’re not even trying. p.s. did you miss me?

A/N: a BIG thank you to hana @taestybae for reading this and telling me she loved it. i absolutely adore you.

i’m going to work to expand on the universe (hopefully) and introduce the rest of the crew because words cannot describe how much i love this universe and these characters.

#yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi imagine #bts fic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #heartsforbts #bangtanuniversity #violet dreams of violet gardens

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edourado · 4 years ago

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Off script

I did it. I worte something in the middle of the night and finished it just now. This is me stretching my writing muscles. It’s unrevised and more than a little bit on the “trash” department, but I wrote it, so I thought I’d share it.

It’s Kastle. Obviously.

I have to go. I’ll review it when I come back from the vet with my dog.

Thanks. Bye. Hope you like it. It’s trash.

-------

She had been very matter of factly. Way more than he anticipated, and he had anticipated it.

He, on the other hand, had been ridiculous. Completely and undeniably ridiculous, unable to act according to his own resolutions.

Frank had, for lack of a better word, rehearsed it. Their first meeting since their last one, that one where he just vomited words on her face, spoke without thinking, acted on momentary emotions, letting his confusion, his trauma, his stubbornness and pig headedness do the talking, resulting in distance, estrangement and, most definitely, deep, profound hurt.

It had been their first meeting since that day, but not their first contact. Surprisingly, at the same time their strange relationship agonized, hers with Madani flourished, a friendship that was both startling and predictable.

Friendship and professional collaboration, more often than not. And it had spilled on him, this time.

(If ever she had children, Madani would make a very overbearing mother, Frank was willing to bet. She won him over by sheer persistence, and he was known as a stubborn man himself. Not delicately or diplomatically at all, she strongarmed him into consulting on her cases, forced a “job” both on him and her agency, cornered and bullied him into working for her, only to leave him wondering how the hell he had gotten there.)

And there he was, because of two women’s partnership, sitting on a bench in Battery park, watching as the wind made long strands of Karen’s hair twirl around her face, eventually catching on her lip, only to be pulled out by a finger while she talked, looking at a bunch of papers, explaining things to him that he should be listening, he should be paying attention, but he had just missed her so much, so much more than he even knew, it was like a punch to the stomach.

“He was in Jersey on the 7th, by my accounts, but then he was tagged on a social media post, attending a party in Dubai three days later. That time window could be important, because Alec was-”

He heard none of it. He should, Madani was chasing this guy all around the country, and now he was going international for less than kosher reasons, and it was his job to predict his movements and place him somewhere she could catch him, and Karen had all this information - when did she not? - but right now he couldn’t even remember said guy’s name, much less why he should care where he was.

Because she looked amazing. She sounded amazing and even smelled amazing, like something fresh and coffee and paper.

She had looked at him so strangely, a simple “hi Frank” to make him turn around when she got to his bench, a polite “you look well” after sitting down, a “no, thanks” when he asked if she wanted some coffee from the place across the street. Karen hadn’t dwelled on their previous meeting, hadn’t asked questions about what he had been up to, didn’t really give him a chance to look too deep into her eyes, focusing on the file she had for him, notes for him to pass to Madani when she came back from Moscow, because he would see her first.

And Frank had predicted this. He wasn’t a complete moron, and his last words to her still sounded clear as day in his mind, even if he was all banged and drugged up on the occasion. He knew she would not be warm and inviting, knew she would be hurt still, even wondered if she hadn’t followed his advice on Matt Murdock, or someone else. It stung like a bitch to think about that, but he had considered it, to prepare for this ten minute lunch break meeting, he had spent almost six nights running through different scenarios in his mind, to prepare himself.

All in vain. All of those scenarios and rehearsed routes of conversation down the drain the moment he had seen her, heels and skirt and flowy blouse, a collapsing bun on the base of her neck, the wind, the collar of her coat and her own movements pulling and pushing strands loose.

“He does have a daughter, though, but she is not as nearly as careful as he is. Loves flaunting the rich life on Instagram, she films everything, and I got to see that her driver was the same guy that was in Jersey with-”

Curtis had been very vocal about how stupid Frank had been when he narrated the hospital room events to him, and he didn’t even know Karen.

“I don’t know her”, he had said over beers and an ignored game on TV. “I don’t need to know her, Frank, I just need to not be an idiot. Which you are, by the way, let’s make that clear.”

If he knew her, Frank was pretty sure Curt would smack him upside the head. If he could see her right then, ticking off items from her list, her pen poised on her hand as she went, sitting there with that file on her legs, looking at Frank from time to time to see if he followed - which he definitely didn’t - the crease on her brow when she focused on an item, the sheer blue of her eyes, the curve of her neck before the collar of her coat folded over skin, those stray hair locks lifting and falling with the breeze.

Frank realized he was sitting turned towards her when his knee touched the back of the bench. Suddenly, he realized he had an elbow where his back was supposed to be, and his hand was supporting his face while he looked - stared - at her.

He was staring, full on staring, and found himself quite unable to stop.

“The problem is”, she went on. “I can’t find any record of him planning to go to Dubai. I don’t even know how he got there. His name is in no manifesto I can find, and his plane is still parked here.”

Frank had forgotten how good he felt whenever he heard her voice. He had come to expect the soothing sensation that washed over him when they spoke, even the funny feeling that would run through his skin whenever he knew he was gonna see her. But it had been a while, now, and it shocked him a little bit, that feeling. It made him want to close his eyes and get closer to her, maybe touch his nose to that spot under her ear, over that birthmark, to investigate further on the delicate scent of her shampoo. Or, maybe, rest his head on her legs, to enjoy the sound of her voice without worrying about keeping himself sitting straight.

He had been far from her for many months, and suddenly he wanted to extinguish that distance, nullify it, get as close to her as he could. He found it quite a strong urge, and discovered himself both uncappable and unwilling to resist it.

“I don’t know how long he’ll be away”, she said as he leaned closer. “But he couldn't be very long, I doubt he’d delegate that much responsibility here, there’s too much going o-”

Contradicting everything he had told himself he would say or do, Frank saw his hand, lifting and reaching for her face, in no hurry, at the same time she lifted her own hand to move another lock of hair away from her eyes.

Karen looked at him when she saw his hand, a question in her eyes, and sucked in a surprised breath just before he caught her cheek and leaned forward, noses bumping before his mouth touched hers.

Not exactly a shock. Not an electric current like he had felt when he kissed Maria for the first time, or that buzz that had happened when he kissed her cheek that one time by the waterfront. Strangely, his mouth over Karen’s felt familiar, soothing, like he had done it a million times, even if he knew very well he hadn’t, was painfully aware of every single time he did not kiss her.

She tensed against him, and her lips parted in surprise, which had been very, very pleasant - a friction against his own lips, rearranging slightly, opening up even if involuntarily - and he was about to pull back when he noticed she didn’t.

With absolutely no notion of time, he waited a second or maybe an hour, before he moved his mouth against hers, trying a bit, tasting a bit, enjoying a lot, instantly addicted to the peculiar feeling of kissing her.

His hand moved on her face, and the tip of his fingers found strands of hair. The edge of his teeth found the delicate skin of her lower lip, and he nibbled on it lightly before leaning further towards her, opening his mouth and creasing his brow in pleasure when she opened up further to him, tumbling her head back a degree or two, her small sigh threatening to dismantle him there where he sat.

Her hand found his wrist when the tip of his tongue touched hers, and there it was, that jolt, exposed live wires touching, and he tightened his grip on her face at the same time she wrenched her mouth away from his, her forehead touching his while she exhaled sharply.

“Jesus Christ”, she whispered. “Frank, what the hell?”

“I’m an idiot” were the words that came out of his mouth, both hands on her face now, sitting sideways on that very public bench, fulfilling his fantasy of touching his nose to the patch of skin under her ear, kissing the spot his lips touched, noticing her hand on his wrist was not pulling it away, noticing her posture had slumped a bit, she relaxed against the bench. “Fuck, I’m an idiot”.

“You’re… You’re aggravating, that’s what you are”, she said, her tone suggesting a reprimand, frustration, her movements indicating surrender, head tossing back to stretch her neck under his mouth, the hand not holding his against her face pulling on the fabric of his own coat. Pulling it towards her.

Frank smiled.

“Right back at ya.”

It was maybe not the best place to do this. A park in the middle of the day, with parents walking their children around, people on lunch breaks - just like Karen was - coming and going to and from all directions, perhaps it was not a good idea to just close his eyes and lose track of his surroundings like this, lose himself in her mouth and focus on nothing but her kisses, how her lips pressed against his and how her mouth opened willingly, how her tongue made a sort of shiver run laps around his spine.

She made him mellow, he realized. Not just now, she always made him want to let go of everything he was holding, from deep embedded hate and guns to the sheer notion of reality and time around him, and that’s why he pushed her away at the same time he refused to let go of her, resulting in her hurt and confusion, the definition of those “mixed signals” people loved to talk about.

Fucking great, Frank. Good job.

“Oh God, ok, ok, wait wait wait”, she said, extricating herself from him one more time when the file she had on top of her legs tumbled to the floor. “I have- I have to go back, to the… To the office, I’m late already, what the hell, Frank?”

He picked up the file from the floor, gathering a page that had fallen from it and batting park dust from it.

“I’m sorry”, he breathed, not really sorry at all for today, sorry for all those other times she reached for him so hard, only to have her hand and hopes swatted away. “I’m”, he let out a sigh, looking in her eyes, huge on him, lips parted and then not, her breathing a tad heavy, cheeks flushed.

Curt was right. He was an idiot.

.:.

She agreed to talk to him.

He didn’t know what they would talk about, but that’s what they agreed on. To talk later that same day, because she had to go back to work, so they had gotten up from that bench and she had smoothed a hand down her clothes, gathering herself.

Karen started saying something about a place she new near her apartment, where they could get a coffee and talk, more private than a park, but a curl of her hair had come to rest on her collarbone, twisting elegantly on a large curl, and Frank had found himself, again, taking a step forward and interrupting her, mouth over hers, pressing not so gently, and she let out a sort of hesitant chuckle when she pushed him away this time, closing her eyes and lifting her hand to her lips, shaking her head and then looking at him again.

Now that he had started it, it was hard to stop.

She said she would text him the address of the cafe, and looked at him with a sort of amused expectation before she walked away.

True to her word, she did text him the name and address of a small cafe, and it looked cozy when he walked by it on his way to her place.

Not that he planned on climbing the fire escape and sitting there for an hour before she got off work. Frank had not planned to go there, he just found himself walking, his legs taking him there by their own accord, the memory of her teeth against his lip and her tongue against his dictating where he was going, making him walk straight by the place she told him to go, around the block and up the metal ladder.

He sat there for what felt like forever, a cold breeze nipping his face, until he heard the familiar noise of her heels against pavement, her gait like an alarm clock, and he opened the window at the same time she opened the door downstairs.

He was ready to apologise, again, for the scare he would give her when she opened her front door to find him standing in the dark in the middle of her living room, but she just looked straight at him and shook her head, closing the door behind her again.

“I knew it”, she said, to which he smiled in spite of himself, legs on autopilot again, taking one two three steps towards the door while she stood there taking her coat off. “Jesus, what has gotten into yo-” she started to ask before he interrupted her for the third time that day, both hands on her face, taking full advantage of the privacy of her dark apartment, opening his mouth immediately to her kisses, delighted by the arms that sneaked their way up his chest and around his neck, hands on his face and down his back, gripping the fabric of his shirt, she kissed him so fully, without any guard, and he loved her for it.

He loved her for kissing him like this, he loved her for being so stubborn, loved her for standing up to him, standing with him, for pointing that gun at him that one time, for sitting with him in the hospital, for crying for his family, for fighting for him when she didn’t even know who the hell he was.

Frank loved her so much and he had known it for so long, but the realization hit like a brick to the forehead nonetheless.

“You are an idiot”, she said right after kicking her shoes off and helping him off his coat.

“Yeah”, he agreed, pulling on the string on her collarbone, undoing the knot that kept her top together. “I know.”

#kastle #kastle fic #kastle ff #Frank Castle #Karen Page #ficlet #drabble #The Pusisher #Daredevil #fluff

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footballcloud · 4 years ago

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Like Old Times - Anyone You’d Like

this is the first thing I’ve written in about a year now, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I’m not sure how frequently I’ll post things and some might be longer than other. Happy reading my lovelies! Tell me who you imagined it with! xx

"I don't understand how someone could be on 'good terms' with an ex", your friend piped up, putting the phrase 'good terms' in air quotations, when the topic of your most recent relationship popped up in conversation. You playfully rolled your eyes given that she'd told you that a billion times already, along with several other people, but it wasn’t like the break up was messy. You two were still civil, there wasn’t any tension between you. So why couldn’t the two of you stay friends? "I don't feel the need to make an enemy out of every ex I have", you replied, earning a laugh from the other girls as you threw a wink her way since she had a reputation to be a bit of a firecracker, and everyone knew it.

"If this cocktail wasn't so damn expensive, you'd be wearing it", she retorted as you shot her a look as if to say 'yeah right'. She wasn't wrong about you still getting on with your ex though. He was still very much a part of your life. You'd text him good luck occasionally on a match day if it was a particularly big game, or if he'd scored, you even had notifications for his team turned on on your phone to see how they were getting on. His parents even sent you a card a bouquet of flowers for your birthday a few weeks ago. He became integrated into part of your routine and you didn't want to offset it. Clearly your girls were against it though, they were never a huge fan of his in the first place. Saying you could do better. Saying he wasn't the one. Saying that whilst keeping little rituals like that in your life was lovely and all, that you'd never get over him - but you were over him. Definitely. Nevertheless, they supported you through the breakup as if they'd never said a bad word about him. Although, you couldn't miss the unimpressed faces they pulled when he walked into the club with his a couple of teammates.

"What's he doing here?" One of them were quick to comment as he made his way in the direction of the bar to get in a round of drinks. "Probably come to celebrate the win", you struggled and diverted your eyes away from him in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact, that was the last thing you needed to throw you off the flow of a good night. "Of course you'd know", another one of your girls piped up and elbowed you in the ribbed mockingly, making your group laugh once again.

"I think it's mine turn to get drinks in, who wants what?" You slid out of the booth and grabbed your clutch from beside you. Your friends weren’t stupid, they knew exactly why you were so eager to get the drinks in but there was only so many times they could tell you that you weren’t right for each other.

"Passion fruit martini please" "Make that two!" "Vodka cranberry" "I think I'll pass this time, thanks" "Mines a rum and coke"

You nodded in an attempt to look like you'd remember what they'd just told you, but the second you properly laid eyes on him at the bar, their orders fell out your head almost instantly. He looked as good as he did the day you two broke it off. Dark ripped jeans, dark shirt with the top few buttons undone and sleeves cuffed a couple of times to show his arms that were glazed with a rich tan from his Dubai holiday that you'd seen plastered across his social media a few week ago, paired with silver watch that he'd bought himself last Christmas on his left wrist and grey trainers with hair styled neatly like it always was.

'Jesus Christ, keep your shit together', you scolded yourself for staring for too long but before you could tear your gaze away from him, he'd caught you in the act.

"You haven't change a bit, darling", a smug grin appeared on his face, using your pet name that you hadn't heard in months, as he rested a hand on your back, making you suddenly deeply regret your choice to wear a backless dress when you jolted under his warm touch. "Looking gorgeous, as ever", he added and leaned down a little further meaning you could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and fabric softer of his shirt when you inhaled heavily to compose yourself. You’d intended on going over to him, but the thought process hadn’t got as far as to what you were going to say to him, nor did you know why you felt the need to interrupt your girls night out to see him.

"Thank you, congrats on the win this afternoon", you replied, thanking him for his compliment that could have easily been mistaken for a flirty comment. ‘You haven’t changed either’, you thought when his arms tenced slightly when he leaned against the bar, allowing yourself a subtle glance over him - but eager to not fall for his charm a second time so changed the topic of conversation quickly. "Thanks, darling. How have you been?" You made polite conversation for a while, just like old times. With the drinks order for your group of friends long forgotten and presumably the same for him, you made your way outside with him as he guided you through a back exit, his hand still on your back.

"Seeing anyone new?" He asked out of the blue, initiating a conversation that you really didn't want to discuss with him and it confused you as to why he'd brought up the topic all of a sudden. "Nope, not been seeing anyone for months", you popped the 'p' on nope. Your response made him raise his eyebrows at you, pulling an expression that, even after an 18 month long relationship, you couldn't read what it meant. You weren’t going to tell him that he was in fact the last person you’d seen as that might give off the wrong message that you weren’t over him.

"What about you? Surely you've had girls practically throwing themselves at you?" You scoff involuntarily, sounding overly bitter. Yuck. Clearly your comment caught him off guard because it was one of the few times his cool, calm demeanour had flaked away, resulting in you looking flustered. "No one actually, how could I when I see pictures on your Instagram of you looking that good". He eyed you up and down, shamelessly flirting with you, passing the flustered feeling over to you as you shifted under his gaze for a second as he took in your appearance better than he could when you were in the club. Strappy heels that he knew hurt your feet but made your legs look incredible, that short backless dress that he'd be thinking of taking off you since the second he laid eyes on you, hair curled at the ends so it bounced below your shoulders blades and light makeup, because you had no one to impress - or so you thought when you left your apartment.

"If you didn't like it, you know where the unfollow button is", you told him, trying not to sound defensive. "Who said I didn't like it?" He was quick to throw back his response with his signature smile plastered on his face, the same smile that had you falling for him the first time. Whilst you mustered up something to say, he began to lean in closer again allowing you to inhale the same familiar mixture of scents that intoxicated you less than an hour ago. You watched his eyes flutter shut with parted lips as his head tilted to the side, it was a natural reaction of yours to mirror his actions as you leaned in closer too. His hand on your back pressed more firmly against it to pull you closer whilst one of yours instinctively went to run through his hair and then settle on the back of his neck. The kiss was tentative, neither of you really wanted to take control in fear of losing the other one again.

“I’ve missed this”, he said as he continued to move his lips against yours, snaking his hand round to rest on your waist. You pulled away from his abruptly after that and leant your forehead on his. “Don’t say or do anything you might regret. It’s the alcohol talking”, you stated and looked at him, lips almost touching again. “You saw me walk in, I’ve not had a drink all night”, he told you and pulled away so the warmth of his body no longer comforted you as the atmosphere around you both suddenly became heavy. He was right though. You were the only one that was intoxicated after a few shots and two cocktails.

“I want you back”, he confirmed bluntly and tried to make eye contact with you but you denied him. “Okay - but we need to talk about this, not here”, you gestured to him, he nodded in agreement as a group of people stumbled out of the door, after clearly consuming more alcohol than they could handle. It had also started to drizzle slightly, the moisture weighing down the loose curls in your hair. “Come back to mine? Please?” His gaze still on you when you met his eyes but were deep in thought given his invitation. You weren’t prepared to let him smooth talk you into his bed like you knew he was capable of doing, and catch feelings again, only resulting in you tearing yourself apart again when he dips out of your life. Over the months that you’d been apart, you’d learnt your own worth - he wasn’t going to have you that easily.

“Okay”, you nodded as a grin appeared on his face. “But only to talk”, you added making him laugh and sling an arm round your shoulder. “Of course, babe. What else?” He raised an eyebrow at you and threw you a cheek wink before knocking on the window of a taxi that was parked nearby. “Have I told you how good you look in that dress?” You jabbed him in the ribs and rolled yours eyes, hoping that the dim streetlights would hide your blushes. “Don’t you dare say what I know you going to!” You warned him, knowing he was going to make a comment about how he thought the dress would look better on his bed room floor. He threw his head back as a laugh left his lips whilst a hand casually fell onto your thigh when he sat down next to you, just like it had done hundreds of times before. You laced your fingers over his, content with the company you were in.

#ben chilwell #football imagine #james maddison #kai havertz #mason mount #christian pulisic #dele #harry winks #jason sancho #jack grealish #dominic calvert lewin #tyrone mings #premier league #footballer imagine #trent alexander arnold #jude bellingham #marcus rashford #eric dier #john stones

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the-golden-ghost · 3 years ago

Note

For the First and Last, no.24? o w o

24. First/Last Secrets

~~~

I chose Lupjig because I'm weak and I love them. The first part takes place in the Early Gang Days, shortly before Lupin decides to fake his death for the first time.

The second part takes place in the Late Gang Days, a little before the events in Castle of Cagliostro.

I hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Ammunition?”

“Yep.”

“Getaway car?”

“Yep.”

“Getaway chopper?”

“Absolutely. Grappling hooks, smokescreens, personal flotation devices?”

“Everything.”

“So it’s all in order?”

Lupin and Jigen were running down their checklist of all they’d need for tomorrow’s job. This one was going to be wild, and dangerous, but they were ready for it, even if there was a very real possibility that one of them may not survive.

In fact, in Lupin’s case, it was a certainty. The one where Lupin III, in all his unsavory glory, finally joined the world of the dead! Sometime tomorrow, the grappling hooks he’d been in charge of would fail, and he’d fall fifty feet down into a steel trap laid out for him by one of the world’s most notorious leaders of the criminal underground, and from there on out, nothing would ever be the same.

A year ago it would have been hilarious. Now, it still was, but he had to admit he had some misgivings. Mostly because he’d spent a year assembling this team, and against his better judgement, well...

He was glad Fujiko was on the other side of the world in Dubai where she wouldn’t have to see, and he was glad that he’d summoned Goemon, even if in truth he could have done this without him. He’d considered sparing Goemon too, until he realized that once the heist failed as planned, Jigen would have to stagger back to the hideout alone.

Lupin could not do that, not to him.

Looking over at Jigen now, Lupin tried to imagine what his reaction would be. Maybe he’d handle it well. Jigen was a pretty tough bastard and he’d had his share of suffering so maybe this would just be another knock for him. Maybe he’d shake it off easy and walk away like the past year hadn’t happened. Maybe his heart wouldn’t break. Maybe Lupin didn’t mean as much to him as he’d come to mean to Lupin.

Maybe everything would be okay and he could go on and be happy, somehow.

“You’re kinda quiet,” Jigen said, flopping down on the couch and lighting a cigarette. Goemon was sitting close by, deep in meditation but in reality, probably listening intently. “Usually you’re talkin’ my ear off about how great it’s gonna be.”

“It’s gonna be great, Jigen!” Lupin said, giving his best smile. He hoped it was more convincing than it felt.

A year ago Jigen had joined up with him, drawing away from kind gestures and bristling up at anything other than cool professionalism. It had taken Lupin months to coax him out of that dreary, guarded state, but by God, Jigen knew how to smile, and how to laugh, and even how to sing when he set his mind to it.

True, he was still a grouchy, wary alcoholic but he didn’t flinch anymore when Lupin touched him and he would joke back and forth with him all night without clamming up in sudden fear that Lupin would tell him he’d gone too far and retaliate with cruelty.

And now Lupin was going to wipe himself off the map and send Jigen back into the world that had made him that way in the first place. All that effort, gone. So yeah, he had a couple of misgivings.

If he’d had time... if he could have primed Jigen better, maybe he could have let him in on it and trusted him to follow through, but...

“You sure you’re okay?” Jigen asked. “You nervous?”

“Are you?”

“Maybe a little,” Jigen said with a shrug. “What about you, Goemon? Are you nervous?”

“No.” Goemon probably wasn’t, in all honesty.

“Hey,” Jigen said. “We’re gonna be fine,” he was looking at Lupin when he said it, and it almost was enough to kill Lupin then and there, because in the year they’d been together he couldn’t recall even one time Jigen tried to offer comfort. He’d come so damn far, and now this.

“You think I don’t know that?” Lupin scoffed. “You must think I’m losing my touch.”

He’d be losing a lot more than that, though, before it was over.

~~~

Lupin usually slept pretty well. Oh, sure, he’d stay up a few nights before a job prepping, or he’d be on high alert when they were being tailed, but otherwise he’d always prided himself in his ability to shake his troubles off and sleep through the night unhindered.

Lately though his thoughts tended to nag at him and keep him staring at the ceiling long into the night.

Jigen was beside him because Jigen was always beside him. Tonight he was snoring. And usually that sound was a comforting one to Lupin, a sure sign of safety. If Jigen could rest easy, then there was definitely nothing to fear.

Lately, Jigen had been resting easy a lot, but Lupin had been having troubles.

He sat up, stared out the window for a long while, and then turned back to look at his partner. Same old Jigen, drowsing with his hat pulled over his face. But he wasn’t the same. Lupin remembered the sharp-eyed, rawboned man he’d allied with more than a decade ago. A rangy, callous sharpshooter with a quick hand and a quicker tongue who nevertheless had stuck close to Lupin like a burr and wormed his way into his life.

And now? Now Lupin would always think of Jigen foremost as a warm, steady man with a rough disposition and a soft heart. The years had changed him physically - adding lines to his face and scars to his skin, most of which Lupin had been there to bear witness to. His body had filled out over time, too, leaving him looking stronger and healthier than Lupin could ever remember.

Lupin sighed. Jigen had a lot of life left in him to take him wherever he wanted to go. But he didn’t know if the same was true for himself. And he wanted sometimes to say it - to just voice it aloud so there was no question. That he’d never planned to live past his youth, but the years had caught up with him and somehow, it had just... happened.

He was still planning how to die. But now, more and more, it was looking like it would have to be for real. No more playacting, no more dress rehearsals or bait and switches that left everyone guessing. One last stand and it would be over.

Surely it would be easy? It couldn’t hurt more than anything else Lupin had ever done. And after that, nothing at all.

He’d have to make it perfect, though.

The thing that got to him was that after all this he didn’t want to leave Jigen behind. Goemon would be okay. He still joined up with them when they called, but he’d been spending less and less time with them - he stuck around for the jobs, but between them, he was barely around. And he hadn’t seen Fujiko in months. She was okay, he was sure, and they’d meet again, but...

He missed them both.

Jigen was still here, though. And he didn’t show signs of leaving. He’d be the one to bury Lupin, Lupin was pretty certain of that, and he’d do it well, giving him all the honors befitting a thief and a swindler and a beloved partner and friend.

But then what?

Lupin could imagine Jigen striking off alone and purposeless, all that life still in him but nothing to do with it now. He pictured him just wandering, falling slowly back into his old bad habits until the years shed from him and he joined Lupin in death, reverted back to the same bitter man he’d been when they first met.

And Lupin tried to tell himself no, that would never happen. Jigen is stronger than that.

But he remembered that he’d stopped faking his death a few years ago, after the two of them had stood and watched Goemon be killed right in front of them. It was a cruel trick, and Goemon was alive and well to this day, but Lupin had never seen Jigen truly break before and for the first time in his life he thought he was going to lose both his partners for good.

When Goemon returned Lupin had made an uneasy joke about how Jigen would never have mourned like that for him, and Goemon just shook his head.

“You have no idea.”

So...

It wasn’t even that Lupin really wanted to die. That was the truth of it. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t know how to go on living. He’d always promised himself he wouldn’t die a boring, pointless death and if he allowed himself to grow old and doddering and just... withered away in a hospital room somewhere... what would the point have been?

He just wanted it all to have some bigger meaning. Maybe it was an impossible wish. Maybe the best he could do was say he changed a few lives and made a few headlines and would die loved.

Someday.

Lupin lay back down and snuggled right up next to his partner. He needed some sleep, and after all, even if the clock felt like it was winding down, there were still some adventures to be had.

And time, thankfully, to choose what the world had in store for them.

#Lupin III #my writing #long post #I am always saying Lupin should cherish Jigen so here's a fic where he finally and unabashedly does #that being said I also think I finally got the hang of making these feel more like two parts of the same story #rather than just two random snippets

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leapyearkisses · 4 years ago

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Consequences - (m, m/m preslash) Oneshot

Reupload. My brief attempt at writing an action thriller. Imagine if it were possible to buy a pill to make you sick. Then imagine you tried to use that pill to avoid the monumental consequences of your greed-motivated actions.

Probably a bit nsfw, mess, crimes against the environment, bastard men, capitalism, tw alcoholism

---

Murashiki Aritomo lifted the small white pill and examined it with a critical eye. It looked no different than an aspirin or a breath mint, so innocuous as to be almost unbelievable. But he was running out of options. There wasn’t a lot of time to arrange anything different, and he wasn’t sure now whether there was any other course of action that wouldn’t land him in prison. “This pill will make me sick?”

“It will, I can promise you that.” The drug’s purveyor, Paul Gascoigne, had been Murashiki’s classmate in undergrad, although while Murashiki had gone into developmental chemistry, Gascoigne had pursued medicine. Or at least pharmacology. He looked the part now, dressed in a bespoke black suit and a white lab coat for effect, although his bright ginger hair brought a touch of life to the somber outfit. “Flu symptoms for a week, starting about six hours after taking it.” He shook the unlabeled bottle in his hand. “If you double up, the symptoms get worse and last longer. I’ll even give you a discount.”

Murashiki eyed the bottle, then shook his head. “No, I only need to be unavailable for the length of the Summit.”

Gascoigne smiled in a manner befitting a fox. “Yes, I’d heard on the DL there was some nasty business with the LiveBetter plastics. Are you seeking new employment opportunities?”

Murashiki produced his wallet. “I’ll give you an extra €50 to stop asking me questions.”

“Deal.” Gascoigne slipped the bottle back into an inner pocket and got up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. He held out a hand for the money and didn’t make a secret of counting it before secreting that away as well. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he said. “While I have your attention, may I just say that my doors are always open if you’d like to seek out other opportunities as well.”

“I’m married,” snapped Murashiki, automatically running his thumb over the place where his wedding band used to be.

“Ah, young love,” Gascoigne said, mocking. “You know, she’s a decade gone to Monaco, or Dubai, or wherever it is these days where they pay for high-class whor-”

“Get out.”

Gascoigne spread his hands, conciliatory. “On my way.” He turned on his heel and left the office, letting the glass-fronted door swing shut behind him. Murashiki glared at his retreating back until it was gone, then glared at the door itself. White frosted writing identified his sins.

Aritomo Murashiki, Ph.D. Senior Project Lead, LiveBetter Development Group

He’d shredded all of his files already, but he checked the desk once more to be sure. Everything he wanted to keep he’d put into a slim silver suitcase. He wouldn’t be coming back here, God willing. The pill sat on top of his desk. He swallowed it with a mouthful of whiskey from the decanter underneath. With luck, he could make his excuses the next morning to the relevant people and be on his way out of the country by evening.

---

Murashiki reached his room at the Holiday Inn just past midnight. He put his suitcase by the door and stripped to his shirtsleeves and boxer-briefs before going into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. He’d always been one to keep up appearances for the investors, but after all the late night as alcohol he was starting to look wan. He rubbed his eyes, pushing up his glasses. He hadn’t expected that, at 37, his life would be self-destructing in such a public manner. As soon as the environmental compliance reports were brought up in front of the EU, the company would throw him under the bus and that would be that.

Not that he didn’t deserve it. He drew away from the mirror and back into the darkened bedroom. He’d been present for almost every step of the process. His initial warnings had fallen on deaf ears, and then... well, the money had been too good.

“Lead me not into temptation,” he mumbled, laying down on the bed closest to the exit. Maybe he should have stuck with the whole religion thing after Satine had left, but he hadn’t been too fond of faith in the months after. He touched his ring finger again. He knew he was a fool. Gascoigne was right, if insufferable. He closed his eyes. Unbidden, the man’s face came to him. Always looking sly and fit, he’d cut a dashing figure in college, too. They’d made out once, twice... Murashiki had already been married then, but a little bit of beer and bisexual guilt had motivated a slip here and there. He’d never felt like he was “settling” for Satine - in fact, he’d loved her quite dearly - but he’d always been afraid of missing out.

He set an alarm for 5 AM. That would give him enough time to contact the VP. Hopefully by then the pill would have kicked in so it didn’t seem like he was shirking. Of course, everyone would know why he wasn’t there soon enough, but he’d have a head start. He felt fine at the moment, if stressed. It had been four hours.

For the price he’d paid, Gascoigne had better not have ripped him off.

------

Five o’clock came too quickly. Murasaki groped for his phone on the bedside table, slapping at it uncoordinatedly to turn off the alarm. The room was still pitch black. He groaned.

The doctor hadn’t been playing him; he felt awful. His head was heavy and his limbs ached dully - perhaps he was already running a fever? His mouth was dry, and when he tried to moisten it he realized why: he couldn’t breathe through his nose at all. Rubbing it produced no relief, just an irritating shift of congestion in his sinus that led to sharp gasp and a rushed sneeze.

“Hahkyusht!” He caught it against his wrist, and the next two in his palms. “Hhkyuschtt! Hgkktschkt!” Head throbbing, he wiped saliva and snot on the sheets and got out of bed. He’d seen a tissue box on the toilet tank last night and was in great need of it.

The fluorescent overhead light set him cursing when he flicked it on. It felt like high beams stabbing him in the face after a particularly intemperate night of drinking. He shielded his eyes with one arm and grabbed a handful of tissues to crush against his nose. He was going to sneeze again. He could feel an itch clawing deep inside his left nostril. He squinted against it, trying to take shallow breaths, but it didn’t help. “Hahgktsciutsz!”

The tissues were a mess already, but he tried to blow his nose. That lead to coughing, too, and he found himself leaning over the sink, trying to get his bearings. “The fuck did you put in that pill?” he growled to himself. Surely not a live virus? The consequences would be staggering. And not just because he felt himself a little dizzy and unsteady on his feet. It would be easy to transport pills across borders, easy to disguise them as something harmless - they already looked it. Influenza was already one of the most deadly of epidemics. What if Gascoigne could take TB, rabies, ebola and weaponize it marketed as aspirin or loperamide??

In the mirror, his gray eyes were wide and Murasaki could see even without his glasses that he was sweating. He shivered. Right. Things were getting out of hand. He was just feverish and letting his tension take over.

He took the tissues back into the room with him and returned to the bed. He just had to make a few calls and then get out. Everything would be fine. He could make flight arrangements in the taxi and then be on his way back to Japan faster than you could say “non-extradition country.”

It was 5:12. The VP picked up on the third ring. “Dr. Murasaki?” she asked, sounding like she hadn’t had her coffee yet. “What is it?”

“Good morning, ma’am.” He didn’t have to force the coughing that followed. “I realize it’s terrible timing...”

“You sound awful.”

He coughed again in agreement. “I feel awful. I’m nih- not sure I’ll make it to the convention center.” He pinched his nose, at least until he could feel the sneeze cresting. Then he let it out, not too far from his phone’s microphone. “Hahkgtschgt!” Mess painted his lips and he struggled to breathe past it for a moment.

“Santé!” She was too polite to sound appalled, but she was quick to dismiss him. “We’ll miss you at the luncheon and awards ceremony.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said, through more tissues. “The team is just as deserving of recognition for this as I am.”

“Yes, of course. I will pass on news of your absence to the event coordinators.” In the end, it didn’t really matter to her whether the scientists behind the company’s products were there or not, just that the presentation was made on time and the right people (her) made the right headlines. Someone would make sure the info made it to the European stage. And that someone would not be Murasaki. He didn’t envy whoever was left with the data. He didn’t even know if anyone else who was going knew exactly what they meant. But the audience would.

He was free, though, for now. He thanked her and hung up, then let the phone fall from his hand to the pillows. “Hah... haah-” If he could leave off sneezing for twenty minutes, he would be golden. His nostrils flared, and he fumbled for more tissues as the right started running, worsening the irritation to an unbearable degree. “Hakgschtgnx! Nktscgshx!” His ears rang and he dropped to lay back on the bed. He hadn’t felt this bad since back in college, junior finals week, when he’d stayed up for four days and then been bedridden for just as long. His nose felt raw already. Even his eye sockets hurt. He lay his arm back over his face, enjoying how cool it felt on his forehead.

He would just close his eyes for a minute. For one minute, he would try to will away the pain and heat.

------

“HEY!”

Murasaki startled awake to the sound of fists raining down against the door. He tried to kick out at an assailant, caught the sheet, and struggled until he found himself on the floor. Threadbare carpeting pressed into his cheek and he tried desperately to remember where he was. Not the office. Not his apartment in Montmartre. He forced himself to sit up and had to lean against the bed to stay upright.

He was in a hotel, he finally remembered. He was staying here before he left the city. Just a few phone calls to make- no, he’d called the VP. The room was awash in the orange light of fading afternoon. His stomach twisted. That wasn’t right.

The pounding hadn’t stopped, but by the time Murasaki thought he might be able to address it, whoever was outside had forced their way in. He expected a horde of angry journalists, armed with cameras and microphones like on TV, but it was only one man. Gascoigne, he thought. It took him a moment to place the man without his glasses, but that hair...

“What are you doing?!” Gascoigne practically shouted. He shoved the door closed again and used Murasaki’s suitcase to keep it from swinging. “You’re still in Paris? There’s an uproar! They were showing parts of the Summit live, you know.” He grabbed Murasaki’s elbow and yanked him to his feet. “I wasn’t sure whether Le Monde or Greenpeace would get you first, but it’s much worse than that.” No lab coat today, Murasaki noted distractedly. Jeans and a bomber jacket. Did black-market doctors get weekends?

He tried to free his arm and failed.

“I can’t believe you’re still here,” Gascoigne was saying still. He shook the smaller man. “Idiot. Did you hear what I said? The Russian mafia put out a hit on you! Hey!” He grabbed Murasaki by the nape. “They found out LiveBetter is behind the collapse of their fishing interests in the Black Sea. This is all over the deep web. Hey.” He shook Murasaki again. “What’s wrong with you??”

Murasaki pressed his hand against Gascoigne’s chest, tried to push away from him. “You,” he said. “You poisoned me, or s- somethih- Hahktsch! Haktschngx!”

“Christ.” Gascoigne let him go.

Murasaki lifted his hands. “Hgkttschzx! You... what is this? I’m burning up.” He was shivering, too. He felt sick and dizzy. “I must have passed out.”

“Yeah, you look like shit,” said Gascoigne. He shrugged at Murasaki’s glare. “What? Sometimes it hits harder for people if they haven’t taken it before. S’not exactly FDA approved.”

Murasaki collected more tissues and blew his nose. “How did you find me?” This was not good. He’d be stopped at the airport, probably. The mafia had connections all over Europe.

“Your phone.” Gascoigne had picked it up off the pillow. “You have... sixty missed calls and messages. Wow.” He dropped the device unceremoniously behind the bed. “We’re leaving that here. Get dressed.”

“‘We’?” Murasaki tossed the tissues to the carpet and started trying to button his shirt. His pants were where he’d left them, and he picked them up, leaning against the wall dizzily as he tried to get them on one leg and then the other.

Gascoigne moved the blinds aside and took stock of the street outside. “Yes, ‘we.’ I didn’t come after you for my own health. Get going. Where are your shoes?”

The two of them, led by Gascoigne, left out the back stairwell. Gascoigne had parked an unassuming tan Renault at the sidewalk and he pushed Murasaki into the passenger seat before taking the wheel and driving out of the courtyard. After only minutes, the car blended seamlessly in with the local traffic. “We’ll head to Germany for now. I’m sure the mafia has people at Charles de Gaulle. When we get a chance, maybe Brazil?” He was driving admirably despite the pressure he’d put himself under. Not drawing the attention of anyone.

It didn’t occur to Murasaki, with how terrible he was feeling, to ask why Gascoigne had actually come for him until they were close to the border. “I mean, you didn’t have to get involved,” he said. “No one would have connected our names.” He was looking up at Gascoigne’s face from under his bangs. The car window was nicely cold against his temple.

Gascoigne glanced over to him and rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

There was a silence. Murasaki coughed. “Is that it??”

Gascoigne didn’t meet his gaze, focusing on the highway ahead. “You didn’t think I was just hitting on you to piss you off, did you?”

Murasaki frowned, then looked away. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to answer me,” Gascoigne said, voice carefully neutral. “I’m doing this because I want to.” He reached down and turned on the radio. The point was clear: no discussion was to be had at this time.

Murasaki stared out at the passing countryside and tried to get a handle on the mix of emotions churning inside him. Fear, gratitude, helplessness, lust... he couldn’t think through the fever and eventually gave in to a numbing haze. With luck, he would live long enough to figure out what he wanted a day, a week, a month from now.

Gascoigne kept driving.

#snz #lyk writes #murashiki aritomo #paul gascoigne #oneshot

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redqueen-hypothesis · 4 years ago

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tied together pt.2 ➳ mlqc

➳ WORD COUNT: 3359

➳ GENRE: fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: how would the mlqc boys (lucien, victor and shaw) propose?

➳ REMARKS: i seem to be obsessed with sleeping at last songs recently. they’re soothing to ears... these headcanons were inspired by heart.

VICTOR

has been thinking about proposing for a long, long time

and by long, long time i mean, he’s been thinking about this ever since the two of you started dating

victor has a one track mind: dating, proposal, marriage. when he gets into a relationship with you, it’s all or nothing

the man might seem like he’s emotionally constipated - but he’s determined to make this relationship work, to officially join the two of you together for the rest of your lives

victor is a traditionalist romantic, he inherited that side from his mother. he’s big on romantic shows of affection and has the money to do it too, so he gets down to preparing something that will definitely blow you away

he’s brought up the idea of proposing before, wanting to wait until you’re as ready as he is about the idea of being together

when you give him positive answers, jokingly telling him that he’ll have to do all the cooking or you’d turn him down on the spot, he knows that it’s time to pop the question

gradually puts together a proposal plan after work each day, making arrangements and phone calls

goldman gets roped into helping overtime (give the poor man a raise)

aside from goldman, though, victor is determined to get this proposal down on his own: it’s his proposal, and he’ll do it with his own hands

personally goes to the florist to inspect each and every rose he’s buying (he’s buying them by the hundreds), trimming them of the thorns and bundling them into bouquets

he’s not fantastic with his hands, fumbles with the silk ribbons that seem to keep slipping through his fingers and some of the bouquets look just a little lopsided, but it’s the effort that counts for him

victor knows money can buy almost anything in the world, but he also knows more than anyone else what money can’t buy - your love, your devotion, your patience with him

finds himself reminiscing a lot about his memories with you, from the way you jammed your foot in his office door and shouted how you were going to get that funding no matter what to the way you shiver when he kisses you

gods, time works in some strange ways

you realise he’s been looking a little exhausted when you come to deliver the reports to his office, but victor waves it off, looking as put together as ever

goldman complains to you that he’s been staying up late doing extra work and that he should at least get a bonus, but victor drags him away before he can say another word

(he does get a bonus, but it’s more of hush money than anything. from then on goldman keeps his mouth faithfully shut)

one day after a work week, victor invites you to souvenir for dinner. it’s rare that he brings you there nowadays, because you’d rather just eat together in his house, but you’ve missed the place and mr mills

he sends you a dress to wear, a beautiful wine red affair that fits you like a second skin, and also a limousine to pick you up. no one but him is seeing you in that dress

you’re kind of stressed, because victor just dropped this on you out of nowhere and oh god is something big happening? the dress looks more like something you’d wear on the red carpet than a simple meal

you redo your make up five times before giving up

when you enter the limo, the chauffeur passes you a delicate jewelry box “with regards from mr li”. you open it to find a string of sparkling stones - no, those cannot be real... right?

when you think about your boyfriend though, no they’re quite definitely real

you put it on with shaking hands. victor has a penchant for giving you the strangest gifts, from a golden camel he’d found in a souvenir shop while visiting dubai to a glass jar of pink sand from the beaches of eleuthera just because you had mentioned wanting to visit in passing

but diamonds? you’re pretty sure you’ve seen this as a collector’s item somewhere... how much did they cost?

stepping into souvenir is like stepping into another world altogether - you’ve never seen it like this before

there are velvet roses decorating the small restaurant, in all manner of colour, wine red, champagne, white and pink, scented candles lighting up the room with their flickering glow

and standing in the middle of it all is victor dressed in a dark suit, holding a huge bouquet of red roses in his hands. when he sees you, his face softens ever so slightly, and he puts the flowers in your hands “here”

doesn’t so much as explain what they’re for, pulling out your chair for you. the two of you are the only ones here, and victor serves you himself

is it just you, or does the food somehow taste better than usual?

during the course of the entire dinner, however, victor looks like he wants to say something, but can’t quite open his mouth

he puts a pudding in front of you for desert, your favourite, but this time when you cut it in half with your spoon, there’s sound of metal on metal

you frown. surely victor wouldn’t have dropped one of his cuff-links inside? scooping it out, you find a single, silver band inside, a sparkling diamond resting on the top

you stare at it for a good few seconds without moving, unable to believe your eyes. you’re not hallucinating, right? that’s really a diamond ring there in the middle of your pudding?

you know it’s a proposal. you just can’t seem to shed the thickness in your throat that steals your voice, the way your hands are trembling too much to pick the ring up, the way you’re on the verge of bursting into tears

victor is a little flustered. he can’t see the ring from where he is since it’s still firmly lodged in the pudding. did you swallow it on accident?

he rises to his feet, picks up the ring (where it is, thankfully, still in the pudding and not halfway down your throat), and kneels next to where you’re seated

your eyes are wide with unshed tears, and suddenly he finds it difficult to speak

fuck, he had a speech written... he can’t remember a damn bit of it now

when he whispers your name, you look up at him with those beautiful eyes in stunned shock, and the words just tumble out.

“i know that i am not a perfect man, that sometimes we fight, and that there are times we disagree. i know all of that, but i also know that more than anything in the world, you’re the one i want to spend the rest of my life with.” words have never felt heavier on his tongue. “i love you, i really do. will you marry me?”

you’re still frozen, unable to wrap your head around this, victor is proposing to you. on the other hand, the poor man is starting to wonder if he’s given you a heart attack. “you don’t have to give me an answer right now, you can take some time to think over it more clearly. i know it’s an important decision to make, so-”

you practically knock him over with the force of your hug, squeezing him so tight to you victor almost feels like he can’t breathe

“yes.” you whisper into his ear, and he can feel your tears - warm tears of pure joy falling onto the bare skin of his neck. “yes, i’ll marry you, victor.”

ahh fuck. victor doesn’t know why he feels like crying too. he holds you tighter so you can’t see his face. “you’ll rip your dress like that, dummy.”

when the two of you finally get off the floor, he puts the ring on your finger, and you pull him in for such a fierce kiss that you almost knock him to the ground again

“dummy” he whispers again, and kisses you back just as hard

LUCIEN

surprisingly, just recently starting thinking about proposing

for him, the fact that you were already dating him was all the happiness he thought he deserved for everything he had done as ares

he knew that he had hurt you before, his betrayal, his involvement with black swan, and although he seemed perfectly fine on the outside, he would lie in bed, late at night and unable to sleep, thinking

“does a person like me really deserve such an ordinary happiness?”

everything had been about the evolution of mankind to him, survival of the fittest, leaving the weak behind

and yet nowadays when he sat on a park bench and partook in his usual hobby of people-watching, non-evolvers and evolvers alike, mingling without distinction and enjoying their time together, as friends, as family, as lovers, he couldn’t help but ache for that intangible something as well

love. a concept that had been so utterly foreign to him that he’d merely dismissed it as a survival mechanism humans had developed so that different people would take care of each other, increasing their chances of procreating and passing on their genes

until he had met you

he remembered something you had told him once

“if I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” it was love that made humans humane

he had dreamed so much about a future where only the best of humanity had survived, leading to a elite society of humans, but if they had to give up this love to get there, did that really make them human?

he pulled together the tiny fragments of memories he had of his parents. the way they had loved each other, the way they had loved him. the way you love him, even though there’s no logical explanation to why you would, even after all he’s done

tears slip silently down lucien’s cheeks on the park bench, alone, for the first time since that car accident when he was five

a young girl offers him a tissue, he smiles and thanks her, watching her scurry back to her family

so you were right all along, weren’t you?

when he confesses this to you one night, with your arms wrapped around his in bed, you look down at him with the most tender smile - so full of this love that he feels like he needs to look away, yet he can’t tear his eyes away from your face

“everyone deserves to be happy, lucien. and i want to be one of the reasons for your happiness, if you’ll let me.”

silly girl. you’re the reason he’s understood happiness in the first place

dating isn’t enough for him. he wants more, to be bound to you, heart, body and soul. he wants to become family, he wants to see you in a white dress. he wants to see his ring on your finger, your love belonging to him for the rest of your lives

he wants to give you the same love you’ve given him

“when two people come together in love, it grows.” you had told him gently, one day out on a date with him. “i want to make you happy because it makes me happy too.”

he’s watched plenty of romance novels in an attempt to replicate the human emotion of love, so he’s all too aware of how the sweetest of words slip out far too easily from his mouth

all those seem so trivial, so lackluster when it comes to expressing just how much he feels for you - it even scares him sometimes

proposals needs rings. that’s the easy part

but he wants to ask you in a way that means something deeper for the two of you

sometimes the old ghosts come back to haunt him and taunt, ‘look at how weak you’ve become, ares, what a fool.’ your arms and lips are there to chase the darkness away

it’s an emotional journey for the two of you

waits till it’s spring to do it

lucien invites you out on a date to a garden exhibition in the rural countryside

it’s a small, beautifully kept greenhouse (typically, it wouldn’t be open to the public, but lucien pulled a few strings with the owner)

when you step in, you’re stunned to see vibrant colours all around in this small, cozy greenhouse. beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe it

you’re already stunned enough until one of the petals flutter just a little before taking off into the air, it’s a butterfly!

your smile makes lucien smile

you run from bush to bush, from flower to flower, gushing to lucien about how beautiful they are - lucien thinks you’re far more beautiful, but just smiles and nods

“did you know that some butterflies only live for a few days after hatching?” he wonders aloud, and you turn back to see him watching two butterflies dancing together in the air. “and yet they’re still one of the most beautiful sights that nature can offer the world.”

you slip your hand into his. when he looks down at you, bemused, and you smile. “kind of like human lives, don’t you think?”

the two of you spend some time at the greenhouse before you leave, wandering along the some of the grassy fields outside. to your surprise, there’s a small stall selling handmade kites

lucien catches you looking at it, and asks if you want to fly kites. you remember your promise together, to fly kites in spring. he hasn’t forgotten it, not even once

you shout encouragement to lucien as he runs, pulling the kite along, and cheer as the purple butterfly kite soars up into the air on the stiff breeze

the two of you take turns keeping the kite in the air

doing this together makes you feel like everything is okay, as if lucien is telling you that he’s ready to put down his past as ares and move on to who he wants to be

you’re feeling just a tiny bit sad when you reel in the kite together, until you see the something shiny tied to the kite

curiously, you pull it free - and realise that it’s a ring

the gem on it is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, it looks white at first glance, but under the light it splits into a rainbow of colours

lucien speaks quietly as he slides it onto your finger. “at first, all i could see this world in was black and white. but the day when you came in my life... i saw colours for the first time. you taught me that this world was so much more than what i thought was right, helped me see the way others saw the world. you brought colour into my life.”

of course you cry. the way lucien speaks is in a way you’ve rarely heard him, his voice isn’t that smooth, composed tone you’re so used to hearing

it’s raw, emotional, and so real with you that you find yourself hanging onto every last word

“i know i don’t deserve you, or the love you give me, but can i be selfish enough to keep asking for it regardless?”

this silly man. why is he asking for it when he already has it all?

holding the kite between you, he kisses you so gently that you feel yourself unraveling under the near painful affection that you can feel from it - the end of one promise, and the forging of a new one together, one that you’ll keep for the rest of your life

SHAW

what’s marriage? is that something you eat?

shaw hasn’t thought about marriage since like... ever

he’s lived his entire life on the edge, playing with danger, coming and going like the thunder clouds before and after a storm

settling down has never been a concept he’s familiar with, but it’s one he finds himself thinking about after he started dating you

he’s kind of young for this, so he’s not sure if he’s ready to give up this flighty lifestyle - it’s all he’s known all his life

and yet, when you call for him, he’s there. when you need him for help, he appears. when you ask him to remain with you, he stays

isn’t that something similar to being chained down already? shaw wonders, but doesn’t quite understand why he doesn’t seem to mind

sometimes, he worries thinks about the fact that you’re getting older... don’t you think about settling down? didn’t one of your co-workers ask you out on a date a few days ago?

when he brings up this question with you one day, you think about it for a bit before nodding. for a second, a tiny bit of worry edges into his heart, but then you’re kissing him on the cheek gently. “whenever you’re ready.”

fuck. he’s never really cared about being a reliable person, he’s the only person who he’s had to take care of his entire life, but now he has you

he wants to be your rock. your anchor in the storm. your man.

when the fuck did he get so cheesy???

finds himself making tiny changes in his lifestyle that he wasn’t even aware of, waving away a cigarette when one of his bandmates offer him a stick, choosing to bring you out on late night dates instead of going drinking with some more uh... shady friends

starts taking on a part time job to earn extra cash (and counting his umbrellas so he stops losing them)

mayhaps he has something in mind that he wants to buy (something for you, but he’s not quite sure yet)

the necklace was an impulse purchase

he’d been skating down the streets, heading home from university one day when a pair of necklaces in the window of a shop catch his eye - they have matching charms, a small storm cloud and a sun

his first thought is: wow that’s so stupid

his second thought: you would look cute with it

he knows he’s whipped, but he’s never going to admit it

shaw finds himself buying it anyway, only to regret it immediately after

what the fuck is he doing

he chucks it somewhere into the mess of his apartment, only for it to resurface a few weeks later when you come over to bring back some clothes you’ve left over in his house

you find the jewelry box, and open it to find the necklaces

they don’t really look like shaw’s type. maybe there’s another girl wooing him?

when shaw sees you holding it he’s scrambling to explain, no it’s not a gift from a girl, it’s...

you look at him, confused. “it’s...?”

he doesn’t have much of a choice but to give it to you now. plucking out the silver chain of the sun necklace, he holds it out to you a little awkwardly

“it’s for you.”

you look into the box curiously. “but there’s another necklace...?”

he blurts out what’s been on his mind for a while

“they’re matching necklaces... for you and me.” he mumbles. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this embarrassed before. “to chase away any bastards who think they have a chance with my girl. damn, this is stupid, i’m going to throw this-”

you grab his hands before he can move, and suddenly you’re wearing the prettiest smile as you ask him, “well, aren’t you going to put it on me?”

chewing on his lower lip, he puts it around your neck. it takes him a few tries to get the clasp right

in return, you put the other necklace around him, kissing his neck and he swallows at the warmth of your mouth

maybe it’s a little too early to start thinking about marriage, but he knows you’ll wait for him, and that he’ll get there one day

“you belong to me now, alright? no one can take you away from me.”

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc lucien #mlqc victor #mlqc shaw #lucien #lucien xu #mr love lucien #lucien fanfic #shaw #mr love queen's choice shaw #victor li #mr love victor

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izzierenee13 · 3 years ago

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MORPHO CLINT BARTON X OC

Chapter 2

(TW: mentions of SA, abuse)

Day three of Operation Dubai, June 8, 2009

Sometime in the Early Morning

I don’t know how I got here, how this happened, how long it had been, but I knew Clint and Nat were going to come for me. This operation was supposed to be a simple in-and-out mission, day one was figure out rotations, day two was prep and day three was get the drive and get the hell out of India.

Fury depended on this flashdrive getting back into SHIELD’s hands, as it was classified on everyone to ever even speak to an agent. That’s why he sent his three best agents to Dubai, though he knew the three of us didn’t do a mission without the others. Honestly, one person should have been able to do it. We didn’t account for HYDRA to bring the Winter Soldier in to stop us.

So here I was, on the third day, trapped in some cement cell. I heard my door clang open, and saw The Winter Soldier with two people who looked like doctors. I tried teleporting out of the cell, but a device was placed inside the handcuffs I was in to limit, and make trying to use my abilities painful.

The men grabbed me, and I fought back until a needle was placed into my neck, making me pass out. I woke up on a table in a room that was completely white, in a hospital gown. My nether-regions were extremely sore, I was in a pool of my own blood. I’d been raped, my virginity had been taken. They stripped me of my SHIELD uniform, and violated my body. I started to silently cry when a man walked in.

“Ah, Darling, you’re awake,” He said with the most evil smirk I’d ever seen. “Boys, It’s time to have fun with our plaything.” Three others came in, and this time I was awake and aware, but I was tied down so I couldn’t fight back. I sobbed the entire time.

After the four men were done with me, I was thrown back into the same cell.

The same thing happened for the next two? Three? days. Multiple times a day, multiple men, it always hurts.

Unknown Amount of Days Later, 10:30 AM

On what I assumed was the fourth day, there was a massive commotion right at the end of the first “session” of the day. I heard agents yelling to find me, and two voices stood out the most. I was in the room where they took me to hurt me, and one man was dead set on finishing. I started screaming for Clint and Nat.

“HAWKEYE. WIDOW. IN HERE!” I screamed over and over again as he thrusted into me, trying to get me to shut up.

After not even thirty seconds of screaming, the man who was using me fell limp, and I looked up to see an arrow sticking out of the base of his neck. I was crying before, but it turned to full on sobs as my partners untied me. Clint picked me up bridal style and walked me out to the quinjet.

He kept me in his arms, apologizing and giving me forehead kisses the whole ride back to the Triskelion. When we got there he instantly took me to the medbay. He laid me on the table, and turned to walk out, ‘Can you send Nat in here?” I asked with a raspy voice. The doctor was a male, and at the moment there were only four men I’d trust to be alone with.

Natasha walked in, and instantly grabbed my hand, “I’m so sorry Liza. We should have covered you better, we should have seen--”

I cut her off, “Nat, it’s okay. No one saw him. I’m just glad it was me, not you.” It physically hurt to sit up, so I casted an illusion to give her a hug. “You’re one of my best friends Nat. I love you and never in a million years would I blame you.”

She hugged me back, very tight. The doctor gave me some medications to take, a complete Rape Kit, a few more tests, then left us to get me dressed. Nat helped me get on a pair of sweats and one of Clint’s shirts.

4:00 PM

I walked out of my room and saw my dad, Pepper, Clint, Fury and Happy all waiting for me, not noticing I’d come out. I snickered, “Would you look at that, the only four men I’m okay being alone with, and the best mother figure to live.”

Before I knew it, I was in my father’s arms. They all had been crying, but I could tell he took the news of what they did to me the worst. We just stood there in a hug for what seemed like forever. “I missed you Dad.” I said into his shoulder.

“I missed you too sweetheart.” He said as he let me go, so I could give everyone else a hug.

When I had finally got to Nick, I really looked at him for the first time. I saw the tears in his eye, “Don’t go soft on me Uncle Nick.” He chuckled at the name I called him since I met him oh so many years ago and pulled me into a bear hug. “I swear if you apologize to me, I’ll leave SHIELD.” I tended to use humor to cope with the traumatic events that just happened.

June 24, 2010, 6 AM

I woke up early to train. It had been just over a year, and I was finally cleared for field work again. I walked into the training rooms and saw my two favorite people. I guess the trio reunites in training today.

“Hawkeye, Widow.” I greeted them, using their code names as they hadn’t seen me yet. The pair whipped around, surprised to see me in a public training area, seeing as I spent the last year only training in private. I didn’t want to see people as a “benched agent” even though I knew people wouldn’t judge why I was benched.

“Morpho. What brings you here?” Nat asked me as they approached, keeping formality in front of the few new agents that were in the room with us.

“Well, Fury said I could tell you the news, and I wanted to train.” I smirked and gave them both quick hugs, slightly blushing at the hug I shared with Clint. We'd gotten so close over the last year and about two months ago, I realized I was falling in love with him, but I couldn’t tell him. There’s no way he’d feel the same.

“What news? Is it good or bad?” Clint asked me while he pulled away from the hug, slightly concerned.

“I’m officially cleared for field work!” I said, and instantly was attacked in a huge bear hug with two master assassins.

6:00 PM

After a long day of training, paperwork and eventually dinner, Clint, Nat and I all decided to go out to celebrate me being cleared.

We went to a karaoke bar, and oddly enough, Clint’s got some decent pipes considering he’s mostly deaf. We drank, not too much, but enough to loosen up. I hadn’t gone in public much since Dubai, and that was hard, considering a Stark had fallen off the face of the earth. I was the news for about two months, but eventually it all faded out luckily.

11:00 PM

Our night was so fun, we ended it by walking Natasha back to her apartment. Clint and I then caught a cab to the Triskelion, as we both lived in the barracks due to not moving out, even though we could the second we became level 5 agents, we both were level 7, so we got nicer rooms than most people.

Over the past year, Clint and I had set up a system, as our rooms were next to each other, we had baby monitors in case I had a nightmare and needed someone to wake me up to calm me down. Needless to say, I had a nightmare tonight. A bad one.

Clint came running into my room, as I was thrashing around, screaming and crying. He gently shook me awake, got me to look him in the eye and I started to be able to breathe. He sat down next to me on my bed, once I calmed down enough he got up to leave and go back to bed seeing it was two in the morning.

“Clint, wait,” I said in the smallest voice ever. “Please stay, at least til I fall asleep.” He turned and came to lay next to me. I fell asleep on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while he drew small circles on my back.

CLINT’S POV

Liza had fallen asleep and I really debated on not leaving. She looked so beautiful, peaceful even. I just wish I could tell her how I felt, that I was undeniably in love with Liza Maria Stark.

I laid there for a little bit, but eventually slipped out and back into my room. I really didn’t want Natasha or Fury seeing us in the same bed, and knowing my luck, tomorrow morning would be one where one of them comes and checks on her.

I fell asleep that night wishing she was in my arms, but there was no way she’d ever love someone like me. I was 15 years older than her.

A/N:

This is the last chapter of timestamps and back stories. The coming chapters will be so, so much more interesting as I can put more of the plot into them. These last couple have just been background on Clint & Liza’s background with one another. I hope you enjoy, please comment and vote!!

Permanent Tagist: @hawkeyesbabe

#clint barton #clint barton x oc #tony stark #nick fury #pepper potts #avengers #natasha romanoff #hawkeye #black widow #iron man #morpho

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thedeviousdo · 4 years ago

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Member/Pairing: Kyungsoo / Jongin Genre/Type: Explicit, Smut, Fluff ish, One Shot Warnings: Explicit terms, unprotected sex Word count: 3,144

Summary: Jongin had been planning this for months, waiting for the day the group got to go back to Dubai. Now that the time has come, Jongin can finally show Kyungsoo the perfect night in the desert.

“Welcome to Dubai.”

Kyungsoo turned slightly to see Jongin coming into view, a smile spread across his face. Kyungsoo wrapped his arm around Jongin’s back, pulling him to his side. “Wish we had time to see it properly.”

Jongin leaned his chin onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder, gazing up at him “Perhaps you’ll see more than you expected.”

“We will see the arena and the fountains.” Kyungsoo said matter-of-factly. He turned his head to look at Jongin, smirking and biting his lip at Kyungsoo. “What? I don’t trust that look.”

Jongin shook his head, tickling Kyungsoo as his chin rubbed over his shoulder.. “Nothing…just trust me.”

Kyungsoo was about to respond when Junmyeon told everyone to follow the staff to the waiting vans that would take them to the arena. They didn’t even have time to go to the hotel first and unwind after the long flight, instead they had to go straight into rehearsal. He felt Jongin’s hand on his lower back as they started to follow the overs.

Kyungsoo wanted the day to be over, to be in his hotel room, ordering room service with Jongin and turning on one of their favorite movies. They had different tastes when it came to most movies, but there were a few they both enjoyed. It didn’t really matter, Kyungsoo just wanted to see Jongin light up on his favorite parts. He couldn’t wait..

Kyungsoo placed his damp towel on the rack, ran his hand through his growing buzz-cut and left the bathroom. He had a sharp intake of breath when he saw Jongin sitting on his bed, leaning back on his hands, a large smile on his face.

“Trust me?” Jongin asked, sitting up and nearly bouncing in his spot with excitement.

Kyungsoo gave a small shrug. “Any reason I shouldn’t?”

Jongin got to his feet, hand taking hold of Kyungsoo’s hand ignoring his question. “Meet me in the lower garage in 10 minutes.” He leaned in and gave him a fast peck on the lips before running towards the door. “Oh, and put on what I laid out for you,” he said, closing the door with a wink.

Jongin waved towards Kyungsoo when he emerged from the stairs 10 minutes later, always punctual. His skin warmed seeing that Kyungsoo did wear what Jongin picked out for him. A pair of dark jeans that hugged his thighs sinfully, a basic black t-shirt and ball cap. Kyungsoo pulled his black hat down as he made his way over to him, hiding pink cheeks from Jongin’s gaze.

“What’s going on?” Kyungsoo asked once he got to Jongin’s side.

Jongin brought a hand up, showing the car keys that hung from his finger, “We’re sneaking out—don’t look at me like that,–I had some help. Plus, Jongdae and Chanyeol are keeping an eye out for us here, I got it covered.” He nodded towards the car. “Get in… trust me.”

Kyungsoo looked quickly around the hotel’s garage making sure no one was around before slowly looking back to Jongin. “I swear if we get in trouble I’m kicking your ass.”

Jongin laughed as he got into the black SUV. “I believe it, now hurry up and get in before we do get caught.”

Kyungsoo pulled his seat belt over his chest as he settled into his seat. The last time they did something like this, Jongdae and Minseok had snuck out with them as well. He still wasn’t sure how they had been able to do the all-day practice the next day, especially with only three hours of sleep and stomachs still full of soju.

Jongin drove out of the garage and into the dimly lit street. After a few moments Jongin reached over and took Kyungsoo’s hand, giving a squeeze when Kyungsoo turned and smiled at him. Kyungsoo turned to the window, and watched the city start to fade away.

It was their last night in the city, though he’d hardly seen any of it; the past day and a half had been spent entirely at the arena or sleeping at the hotel. At least they would get to see the fountains before they flew out tomorrow, being on the groups actual schedule. Wherever Jongin was taking him now, he would gladly take it, getting to see that much more of Dubai before they left.

“I got ahold of the guys that worked with us the last time we were here, they were able to set up a few things for us,” Jongin explained as Kyungsoo finally asked where they were going.

They had driven nearly an hour away from the city and now he felt like they were in the middle of the desert. In each direction, all Kyungsoo could see were dunes, the soft glow of the moon rippled over the sand. After another few minutes of driving, an open area came into view. A tall flood light was set up, filling the small area with light, a four wheeler parked off to the side.

Jongin parked the car, and quickly hopped out to take a large cooler from the back seat that Kyungsoo hadn’t noticed before. “I wanted to show you the sand dunes like we did,” Jongin said, looking over his shoulder at Kyungsoo when they made their way to the small clearing.

There was a small fire pit set up off to a corner of the clear, nestled into the bottom of a dune, a few blankets laid out beside it. Jongin walked over and placed the cooler down. He looked up at Kyungsoo, swinging his arms at his side, “Do you like it?”

Kyungsoo looked around once more before smiling up at Jongin, “This is perfect.“

Jongin could feel his smile take up his whole face, the sincerity in Kyungsoo’s deep voice causing goosebumps to rise on his neck. He walked over the 4 wheeler, picking up one of the helmets and holding it out for Kyungsoo. “Get on.”

They made their way up and over another large dune. They no longer had the flood light to help guide them, but luckily the moon was full and casting a silver light over the deep orange and gold sand of the dunes.

Jongin brought them to a stop at the top of another dune, turning the engine off, he spun a little in his seat to face Kyungsoo. He took off his helmet, running his hands through his hair as he watched Kyungsoo take his off as well. He reached up and ran his fingers through Kyungsoo’s growing hair. It wasn’t long enough to be affected by the helmet too much, but it didn’t stop a few spots sticking up in odd directions.

"How long had you been planning this?” Kyungsoo asked, finally looking away from Jongin’s face and out towards the view of the desert.

“Since we came here without you.” He bit his lip as Kyungsoo snapped his eyes back to him. “I figured that the only way you and I would get a chance to come back was as a group. So I made sure to get the guys number, the ones that took us out here last time.” He shrugged, looking away from Kyungsoo’s stunned face, he could feel his cheeks warming from his gaze. “All I needed was a little help sneaking out, hence Jongdae and Chanyeol making sure everyone thinks we are in bed right now.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say, let alone think. Jongin had had this plan in motion for three months, and had wanted Kyungsoo to experience Dubai like he had. Jongin had risked getting in trouble, just to bring Kyungsoo out here. Kyungsoo leaned in, hands cupping Jongin’s cheeks as he placed his lips on his.

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo whispered between soft kisses. He gave a light kiss on Jongin’s bottom lip before leaning back and looking out at the night sky. A smile spread over his face, “I love it.”

Kyungsoo brought his hands behind his head as he laid back on the blanket that had set out earlier, eyes looking up at the stars. Jongin got comfortable close beside Kyngsoo, propping his head up as he stretched out on his side. Kyungsoo could feel Jongin’s eyes on him, “You have a staring problem,” he said, not looking away from the sky.

Jongin let out a soft laugh, “Yeah, I’ve been told, but it’s a problem I don’t want to fix.” In truth he could stare at Kyungsoo all day. He looked good in any light, even the light from the fire beside them only made him look more handsome. The flickering flames caused just the right amount of shadows to dance across his face. Jongin watched as a smile crept onto Kyungsoo’s face, making his own to grow even bigger.

Kyungsoo turned onto his side, the space between them nearly nonexistent, rested his hand on Jongin’s cheek. “I’m happy you brought me here, that I got to see this, with you.”

Jongin smiled before closing the small distance between them. Kyungsoo moved his hand from his cheek to the back of his head, guiding him into place to kiss him. The moment their lips met, Jongin needed that much more of him, he wrapped his arm around Kyungsoo’s waist, pulling his body flush against him.

Kyungsoo felt Jongin’s tongue run over his lips, a feather light touch that sent a shiver down his spine. With a small smirk he opened his mouth, letting Jongin’s tongue in, almost moaning at the sensation. Jongin’s hand moved down Kyungsoo’s back, going under his shirt, delighting in the feeling of his warm skin on his fingers. He held Kyungsoo tight and shifted their bodies until he was caging Kyungsoo beneath him.

Kyungsoo leaned up into Jongin’s space, slowly lifting his arms up, hoping Jongin would get the hint. He didn’t disappoint, moments later Jongin was biting his lip and lifting Kyungsoo’s shirt over his head. Jongin threw it behind him before falling back over Kyungsoo and kissing marks into his neck and chest.

A soft moan left Kyungsoo’s lips as Jongin ground his hips down onto him, teeth biting at his collarbone. Kyungsoo brought his hands up Jongin’s side before taking hold of his neck and bringing him to his lips, kissing him hard. He turned his head to let Jongin deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking up at the roof of Jongin’s mouth. Kyungsoo felt Jongin shiver at the action and did it again.

Jongin climbed onto Kyungsoo’s lap, a knee going to each side of his hips. He could feel Kyungsoo’s hands move Jongin’s shirt up his back, he had almost forgot he was still wearing it.

“Off,” Kyungsoo breathed as he broke their kiss, lips still brushing Jongin’s softly. He dropped his hands from the shirt once Jongin started to pull it off himself. Kyungsoo licked his lips as his eyes roamed over Jongin’s toned chest and stomach. “Beautiful” Kyungsoo’s voice was barely a whisper before he leaned in and kissed Jongin’s nape.

Jongin let out a breath as his head rolled back, giving Kyungsoo more space to kiss, hips starting to roll. Kyungsoo’s fingers trailed down Jongin’s chest, playing in the ripples of his abs before going to the waistline of his pants. He fumbled with the button and zipper, almost telling Jongin to stop rubbing against him, but his cock stopped him. Each roll over Jongin’s hips applied the best pressure against both their hard cocks.

"Soo,” Jongin gasped as he felt Kyungsoo’s hand slip inside his pants and take hold of him, hips jerking at the touch.

“I’ve missed you,” Kyungsoo said against skin, his tongue coming out to lick at one of Jongin’s nipples. “I’ve missed the way you smell… the way you taste.”

Jongin moaned, Kyungsoo’s voice had deepend, a tone he now associated with coming in the best way. If he wasn’t hard before he would be now, he felt himself jerk in Kyungsoo’s hand. Jongin got to his feet quickly, making Kyungsoo fall back onto his elbows at the sudden motion.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to feel all of Kyungsoo, see all of him. He quickly took off his pants and underwear before dropping to his knees and riding Kyungsoo’s as well. Jongin was about to get back on Kyungsoo’s lap when he felt strong arms wrapping around his waist and placing him there first.

Kyungsoo brought his hands up to Jongin’s hair, grabbing fistfulls just on the side of painfull. His dark eyes looked over Jongin’s face, his red bitten lips, tan skin flushed pink. He was delectable to Kyungsoo, he wanted to taste every corner of Jongin. “I want to fuck you.”

Jongin felt a deep tremor run down his spine, ass moving against Kyungsoo’s cock. He brought his lips back to Kyungsoo in a bruising kiss, what little breath he had in his lungs was knocked out. He blindly reached beside him, squirming in Kyungsoo’s lap earning a deep moan. Jongin finally found the tiny bottle of lube from his pants pocket, pushing it into Kyungsoo’s hand.

Kyungsoo warmed the liquid over his fingers, lips busy leaving red marks on Jongin’s once he broke their kiss. He didn’t want Jongin to pass out from lack of air. “Sit down.” He whispered as his fingers circled Jongin’s rim.

Jongin breathed a yes as he did what he was told, bringing himself down onto Kyungsoo’s waiting fingers. His fingers dug into Kyungsoo’s shoulders at the feeling, a few moments to get used to one, before another was added.

Kyungsoo bit his lip as he watched Jongin work himself on his fingers. He leaned up and kissed Jongin’s neck as he worked a third finger in. “Just a little more…just a little more and I’ll fuck you. That’s what you want right?”

Jongin nodded quickly before opening his eyes and looking down at Kyungsoo. With a smirk he said, “Just as much as you want to.”

Kyungsoo took his fingers away, ignoring the tiny sound Jongin made at the quick action. With a fast pump of his cock, Kyungsoo gripped the base with one hand and Jongin’s hip with the other and brought Jongin down hard on him.

Jongin gasped as he head fell back, feeling the deep sensation of being filled so quickly. He had only a moment to adjust before both of Kyungsoo’s hands were on his waist and physically lifted him off his cock. Jongin tightened his hold on Kyungsoo’s shoulders as he brought his hips down hard, earning a deep moan from Kyungsoo. Biting his lip he started finding a rhythm, fucking himself on Kyungsoo, every so often rolling his hips down to bring him in deeper.

Kyungsoo moved his hands up Jongin’s back, nails digging in as they found a faster pace. Jongin wrapped his arms around his shoulders, bringing their bodies even closer. He bit into Kyungsoo’s neck when he decided to thrust up into Jongin. He stopped moving his hips, instead lifting a little higher on his knees so that Kyungsoo could fuck up harder from below.

Soon the sounds of wet skin connecting filled the small area, heavy breaths and deep moans with it. Jongin missed that sound, he could get lost in the sounds he causes Kyungsoo to make. The sounds Kyungsoo can get out of him, he loved it all.

Kyungsoo shifted his hips a little and thrust hard up into Jongin, delighting when he felt Jongin clinch around him when he found his prostate. He repeated the action until Jongin was withering above him, eyes closed and body pliant. He rubbed his hands over Jongin’s waist as he stilled his movements, grinding into Jongin as he settled in his lap.

Kyungsoo leaned up, taking Jongin’s swollen bottom lip between his teeth, tugging slightly. He pulled himself out, ignoring Jongin’s whimper and rolled both of them over. Jongin was lying on his back and spreading his legs instantly, feeling Kyungsoo settle perfectly against him. Kyungsoo stared down at Jongin for a long moment, his eyes were nearly black, but Jongin could see every emotion Kyungsoo was feeling. Jongin brought his hand up, holding Kyungsoo’s cheek as he pulled him down to his lips.

Jongin opened his mouth for Kyungsoo, feeling his tongue move against his own. He felt warm hands move around his waist, one traveling down his leg till it cupped the back of his knee. He let Kyungsoo move him into position, breaking the kiss and calling his name as Kyungsoo pushed back inside of him.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo moaned into Jongin’s mouth, hips thrusting deep into him.

Jongin brought his other leg up around Kyungsoo’s waist, ankles crossing, hands now holding onto his shoulders. He could feel the sand shift under the blanket, molding the sand around their bodies with each thrust. Jongin brought his lips to Kyungsoo’s collar bone, kissing and licking his way around before sucking a little purple bruise on his skin. He smiled, knowing Kyungsoo wouldn’t be happy about having to try and cover it up for the next few days but he didn’t care.

Kyungsoo moved up on one arm, the other holding Jongin’s waist, holding him in place. He watched as Jongin’s pupils blew out as he hit his prostate again. Jongin started to twist his hips, chasing the vibrations Kyungsoo’s cock was causing as he abused his prostate.

“Harder Soo… fuck me…fuck me harder,” Jongin said between each thrust.

Kyungsoo kissed his way down Jongin’s neck, nodding a few times as he began to push that much harder into him. He snapped his hips every time he was fully inside Jongin, making him call out his name, each time louder than the last. The knot in his stomach grew with each heavy thrust into Jongin.

He knew Jongin was getting close too, the way his breathing had changed and his knees were shaking against his waist. His knuckles turned white as he pushed down hard into his thrusts, if he tried hard enough he may see Jongin’s stomach rise. He felt one of Jongin’s hands move down his arms, between their bodies, and gripped his own cock.

Jongin matched his pumps with Kyungsoo’s thrusts, hand gliding easily over his hard cock. He felt Kyungsoo bite down on his neck and a moment later Jongin came hard between them. Kyungsoo continued his movements, groaning at Jongin’s body held onto him, clinching from over stimulation. Several deep thrusts later Kyungsoo came, filling Jongin with his warm release.

Kyungsoo rolled onto his back a minute later, Jongin instantly curled up against his side. Jongin welcomed Kyungsoo’s arm as it wrapped around his waist. “I love it here,” Kyungsoo whispered into Jongin’s hair after a few minutes of silence..

“Welcome to Dubai.” Jongin smiled before tilting his head up and kissing Kyungsoo once more.

Dunes

#kaisoo #fanfic #exosnet #my fanfic #kyungsoo #jongin #exo #smut #kaisoo smut #kai #d.o #I wrote this some time ago #ty to the few that pushed me to post here #hope you all like it #oneshot #one shot

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atopearth · 3 years ago

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Kissed by the Baddest Bidder Part 1 - Eisuke Ichinomiya Route (up to Proposal Epilogue)

This is my next guilty pleasure game lolol. Honestly, the premise of the heroine getting sold in an auction and being bought/saved by one of the dodgy rich guys makes it a dubious premise, but I love this kinda "trash"🤣 Eisuke seems like one of the most popular Voltage guys so I do want to see him in sequels haha, and yes, I already played the main story since it was free on the app, but I've kinda forgotten it, so I'll refresh my memory by playing it on the Switch again haha. I also bought My Forged Wedding and Our Two Bedroom Story so yay, more to come~ hahaha. I hope to also buy Scandal in the Spotlight and Kings of Paradise (when it comes out and goes on sale XD) when I'm done with others so yep, lots of Voltage stuff coming I guess hahaha.

I always feel sorry for the heroine that Eisuke makes her run to him within 5 minutes when he calls her, like dudeee, that's ridiculous. Anyway, it's nice that he's teaching her stuff so she's not just his toy to use. I remember finding it hilarious how Eisuke planned to use Soryu as the next "sacrifice" from the beginning and have Carolina fall in love with him instead🤣 She's very tame and silly for an Italian mafia boss' daughter but I guess we should feel blessed about that lol. Even though a lot of the things Eisuke does is questionable, it's nice to know that his reason for being involved in all this underground stuff is because he's searching for his little sister that he got separated from when their parents passed away and they were adopted by different families. It's interesting to think that Eisuke wasn't born a rich boy and actually worked very hard to get where he is now in repayment to the Ichinomiya family but also because I'm sure all this power helps him get more connections to hopefully find his sister one day. I think it's really cute how much he's opening up to the heroine now, but I kinda feel sorry for her in a sense that when Takahiro (her boss) and her finally have a nice thing going on, she's falling for Eisuke.

To be honest, their "love" is rather questionable considering how it's mostly just the heroine listening to everything he says, caring about him, whilst he uses her for what he needs to do and then kinda warms up to the idea of her staying with him and enjoys it. I mean, he barely let her go out and always called her back for trivial things lol. So yeah, even though he's "nice", I find it difficult to accept him, but I guess hopefully the sequels might change that since there's so many haha. I appreciate him trying to protect her though, it's nice to see those rare moments he shows how much he cares about her. I have to say though, that dramatic ending where the heroine picks between Takahiro and Eisuke is so... weird lol, kinda cringy loll. Anyway, let's see His PoV! Honestly, His PoV was nice but doesn't really add that much to what we already knew tbh, like I guess you can see his thought process for the important events, but yeah doesn't really feel like I read anything haha. The epilogue was nice mainly because he FINALLY got rid of all his groupies, like geez, took him a while considering his intolerance for such women who follow him around all the time lol, but the highlight was definitely the heroine getting him to honestly tell her that he loves her. I think it really helps how she always voices to Eisuke what is important to her, and he in turn understands that it's important to her so he listens and reciprocates, it's pretty sweet.

I'm glad Eisuke found his sister in the Season 1 Sequel. Yukari is so cute. I thought it was really nice how the heroine understood how much Eisuke cherished the possibility of meeting his sister again, so if he's rejecting meeting her then there must be a good reason for it. It's pretty dramatic how Eisuke ended up having to save Yukari's husband's father and their wedding in order to have the father have a better opinion of him lol. I'm just happy that Eisuke doesn't have to force himself and lie about his feelings towards finding his sister again and stuff tbh, but it was kinda sad how Eisuke really didn't look for the heroine for days when she "left" him due to not being able to understand his attitude towards Yukari before everything was resolved. I have to agree with the heroine though, Eisuke is just really stubborn about not showing his feelings, but I guess he's getting better at it with the heroine so it's all good lol. I kinda find it cute how Baba was the one to tell the heroine how much Eisuke cares for her, I guess all the guys will get a chance to cheer her up and tell her different sides of him?🥲 It was cute how they visited Yukari's new home and thought about marriage~ Lmao at Eisuke just building a hotel in Dubai because her dart fell on it.

Ooh so, S2 revolves around Dubai~ Gotta feel sorry for the heroine that she nearly got killed for trespassing when it wasn't even her fault. But now she's forced to work at the Dubai hotel as a sort of "punishment" and to let her go from her crime lol. Gotta love how Eisuke just bought an island to live on here lol. Aww, it took a long time, but it's actually really cute how soft Eisuke is with the heroine. I also really like how he's pretty open with their relationship to the others. Do a lot of Japanese people really hate green peas?? I find it so funny that a lot of characters hate green peas, but I guess it's more seen as a "childish" thing haha. So yeah, seeing Eisuke try to say he hates green peas in a prideful way was adorable to say the least. Anyway, Hishikura is quiteeee dodgy and weird lol, why does he want to be an auction manager though, does that help him become the future prime minister?🤔 And I found it so silly the way the heroine "won" Hishikura and left him, like shouldn't the first thing Eisuke and them thought of was the fact that this was an illegitimate auction bid when the product (heroine) was obviously not the dancing girl that was supposed to be sold?? Why did we have to waste so much time on something so simply solved just like that?? Honestly though, I'm sure Hishikura could have made some other excuse though, but still, could they have not resolved it better and had a better reason to allow Hishikura be a part of the gang? Lol.

Sometimes I think I underestimate how much Eisuke likes the heroine, because wow, to protect her, he's willing to let people think he's "running away" from Dubai and all the troubles there, and I guess last time with Hishikura, he made it pretty obvious how important she was to him. Like, Kishi and Soryu being bodyguards for the heroine are understandable (but honestly a waste of their time lol) but I'm not sure if Hishikura, Ota and Baba are very good lol. Anyway, trust Eisuke to propose in such an unromantic way loll. Full just gave her the papers and told her to sign it loll. Anyway, I'm surprised they never had a hotel branch in London, but it doesn't matter since Eisuke can build wherever he likes lol. Wow, like I know Eisuke is selfish and the heroine is very accommodating, but I'm surprised she wasn't mad or even annoyed at all that Eisuke just took back the "proposal" and said nah, not getting married anymore since it's unnecessary. Like excuse me??? And the way the heroine knows he loves her is always just through sex lol, like c'mon heroine, sure he shows his love in many ways, but his attitude still annoys me a lot lol, it really is as if marriage is nothing to him and the heroine hasn't even told him that it's special to her because she'll become his wife. Honestly, he probably said it so she wouldn't feel pressured about it anymore (since she was undecided) but still.

Well, I was going to say Frank and his butler are kinda cute but dang lol, getting revenge for something that happened in middle school that was your own fault is pretty petty of Frank. I'll admit that Eisuke being up for auction and the heroine being auctioneer was pretty fun and interesting haha. Especially when she just started revealing everything about him to the crowd lol, but I guess that way she was able to show how deep her feelings were for him and how much she wanted them to be family instead of him just distancing himself from others and her. I'm so happy Eisuke finally proposed properly and said she'll be his family~~ Anyway, I'm disappointed that they didn't allude anything about Eisuke and London (aside from this Frank guy) when I think it would have been fun to see more about Eisuke's life back in the day instead of a random villain. For once, it was nice to see Eisuke's PoV to the marriage thing. So he suggested marriage to the heroine because he wanted to give her financial security just in case anything happened to him, and he wanted to do it in a way where she wouldn't be scrutinised by the public eye, and that's why he wanted her to be his wife so that everything would "look proper" to others. I guess I can see why he was so shocked and sad when she didn't immediately accept him haha. It was nice seeing Eisuke realise his mistake in saying he wanted to the marry the heroine but in the same breath say he didn't need a family, and understand that this was why the heroine was so hesitant. It was really nice to see Eisuke grow and straightforwardly ask Akira (his dad) why did he adopt him and whether he only cares about him because he has a talent for business. Seeing Eisuke face things he usually avoids because of the heroine's support and love makes me happy for him.

Okay, the DLCs (Scattered Cards onwards) on the Switch are too expensive so I'm not going to buy them right now hahaha😅 Overall, I'm not a fan of Eisuke tbh. He definitely got much better over the course of the seasons, but from the heroine's perspective alone, he is a bit frustrating lol, but at the same time, I'd say the same for the heroine for how silly she is lol so I guess they fit well. I think what I'm most disappointed in though is that the premise itself is really just the premise and nothing really "evolves" from it, because the following stories are really just the guys expanding the hotel and dealing with people trying to wreck that rather than stuff about auctions and bidding? I did enjoy Eisuke reuniting with his sister and learning more about how he views family, and then having the heroine make him realise that he does crave family warmth and other things, he just tries to hide it with his bad attitude lol. But yeah, otherwise Eisuke is not bad, just not my type lol, and the stories are rather cliche and bad at some points so yeah, I'd say the plot suffers more than his attitude does for me.

#kissed by the baddest bidder

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heartless-error · 4 years ago

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Love-Struck

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairing: Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating/Tags: JayTim Week 2020 - Day 1: College AU, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Secret Crushes

Other(s) links: AO3

"Okay." Jason sighed, gathering strength to himself. "You remember… That guy?"

"That guy?" Roy asked back.

"Yes."

"The one you have a crush on and look at him from afar, but you deny it and never take the first step because you’re a dramatic bitch?"

"Yeah."

"What? You have finally talked to him?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I hit him with the bike."

Roy was silent, looking at him and blinking a few times at the news. But he didn't have to say anything, Jason knew he was totally fucked.

OR:

Based on the prompt "I was distracted looking at my crush and accidentally hit him."

Love-Struck

It happened on a Tuesday, during the break.

Tim met Conner and Bart outside his classes to head to one of the coffee shops near the campus, between his mathematical analysis class and his computing class, because he wouldn’t be able to survive that day without a third coffee and in addition his friends would be nearby to make sure he didn’t fall in the temptation to drink a fourth.

Everything was going well, Bart received him with an effusive hug and Kon patted his back like always. All started walking towards their destination while talking about their classes, how close they were to the finals, Kon’s new game, where they could go to celebrate when they finish the semester, generally normal things that made Tim forget about how he had slept an hour and half, still had four assignments to do, and his parents were waiting for his presence at tonight’s dinner after they returned from their business trip to Dubai.

Maybe it was because of that hour and half of sleep, or because the little conversation of his two best friends about how Conner was a coward who couldn’t ask Cassie out caused him a slight smile, a warm emotion, and distracted him from his problems and everything around him. But when he crossed the street to the cafe, happy and absent, he didn’t have time to react to anything.

“Watch out!”

“Tim!”

Something hit him and before he knew what, fell unconscious.

~0.0~

“He's alive!”

That was the first thing he heard when he started waking up.

Tim found himself confused as he regained consciousness, his whole body hurt, a lot, but at the same time he was somewhat sleepy. He realized he was lying on a bed that smelled of antiseptic and medicine, around him he could hear bustle and people talking next to him, couldn’t feel his leg either.

“Of course he's alive, calm down.”

That was Kon's voice. And previously was Bart's. If he remembered well, he was with them on campus, just heading to one of his favorite coffee shops before something hit him on the side and everything went dark. If he had to guess, he would say that he hadn’t passed out from the lack of caffeine but had been run over.

Tim growled annoyed, opening his eyes heavily and blinking because of the whitish light of the hospital room.

When he was finally able to focus and wake up properly, the sight that received him was his plastered leg held high and his friends hovering over him with a worried gaze.

“Tim!” Exclaimed Bart, who seemed to be on the verge of tears.

“What's up buddy? How did you sleep?” Conner asked with a relieved smile.

When he tried to answer, he realized how dry his throat was, as well as how overwhelmed he was because of the medications and sedatives that would have been administered to him when had been treated. His friends, realizing this, soon helped him to lean him over and give him the bottle of water that was on the next table.

“What happened?” He ended up asking after recovered himself.

“You got hit by a motorcycle.” Conner answered bluntly. “And you scared us, man.”

“Yes! I almost have a heart attack!” Bart exclaimed. He could tell he was holding himself back to not hug him until crush him because he was benched. “We were talking and suddenly you were flying!”

“Really?” He asked, surprised.

It wouldn't be strange if the hit had thrown him a few meters away, but he felt the most serious wound he had, was that broken leg, so he didn't think he would have fly for real.

“No.” Conner denied instantly.

Yeah, he thought so. What a disappointment.

But now that he was more awake, he remembered certain things clearly.

“I think I remember listening to the ambulance.” He frowned, trying to remember well.

“No, that was Bart screaming.”

“It scared me! Okay?” The redhead excused himself immediately.

“We could hear you better than the sirens.” His other friend started teasing.

Tim couldn’t help to smile amused at this, fondly too. Bart used to be loud in general, but him being so concerned about him was very touching. Also, the fact that his two friends had taken care of him, had accompanied him, waited him to wake up and now were there, receiving him, made him remember why he loved and appreciated them so much.

“I thought it was serious!” The redhead excused himself again.

“Obviously not.” Kon replied, still amused. “Tim is stronger than we think.”

“I'm fine, Bart. For real.” He tried to reassure him, he felt it could have been worse anyway. “I'm only a little numb for the medicines, can you call a nurse?”

As much as he appreciated the ride to the hospital, the treatment and all, he wouldn't like to spend the night there. He didn’t consider his condition serious enough to do so, so he would like to be discharged immediately. He also wants to sleep in his bed, those four assignments weren’t going to be done magically and no nurse was going to allow him to drink a decent coffee. So, hearing his diagnosis and going home was all he wanted now.

However, when Kon and Bart exchanged glances, something told him that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“What?” He asked immediately.

They didn't answer, just looked at each other again with a slight hint of panic. Which was not cool at all, because it made thousands of unpleasant possibilities run through his mind.

And the worst, the worst of them entered the room before he could ask again.

The temperature in the room dropped suddenly to below zero as soon as Janet Drake, as beautiful and noble as ever, entered keeping her formal, elegant, and polite composure characteristic of her as the sound of her heels echoed in the room harshly. Her pristine appearance contrasted with her icy eyes -identical to his son’s- and his aura in itself, so cold, lethal, and furious that she seemed to freeze all those who dared to look at her directly.

Everything was quiet and it seemed like the death itself, ethereal and deadly, had entered the room. And Jack Drake, who warmly greeted his son and his friends after saying goodbye to the nurse they had been talking to.

“Timothy.” His mother said calmly, firm, approaching the bed with safe steps. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

Tim swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to answer, because now he understood and shared the same panic as his friends. Janet looked angry, was she? God, why he hadn't thought it before? Of course they were going to call his parents after being struck by a bike, and of course it wouldn’t be pleasant for them to receive such news while they were unpacking and planning their dinner tonight. She was angry, right?

“Thanks for being with him, guys.” Said his father to his friends.

Conner tried to smile naturally, but it looked like he had just sucked on a lemon. Bart didn't even try; he was as stiff as a board and looking at him like a deer about to be run over.

Sometimes he found fascinating how his mother -yes, only his mother- still had the power to scare them in this way as if they were still the noisy children he met at summer camp and used to visit him. Anyone would think she hated them, seeing the disinterested attitude she always has maintained, he knows they think so too, but after learning the scholarships of both to enter the best programs of the Gotham University were slightly orchestrated by her, he knows it’s not true. Or maybe it was, and she was just doing him a favor by keeping his best friends close to him. He will never know.

Of course, that doesn't take away the fact that his mother seems furious right now and can effortlessly rip someone's arm off just for the pleasure of doing it.

“N-Never mind…” Conner tried to say with that nervous smile. “Anything for Tim.”

“We’re lucky it wasn’t anything serious, was it?” His father said looking at him directly. “The doctor said is just a few bruises and your poor leg, you will recover without problem, son.”

Tim was a little relieved that the diagnosis was so simple, despite already suspecting it, confirming it didn’t hurt. He saw how his father winked at his friends so they wouldn’t be worried, though they hesitated for a second.

“U-Um... We...” Bart tried to say.

“I’m sure you still have classes to attend today.” Janet cut him off. “Don't worry about Timothy, we’ll take care of it.”

All of that, even from her tone, would have sounded kind if her eyes wouldn’t have been piercing them to the depths of their being, as if she were throwing ice daggers into their hearts. He swears he could see Bart flinch.

“Ok, see you later Tim!” Bart said trying to hide his panic and saying goodbye with a nervous smile.

He could have sworn that if Bart could run at super speed, he would have done it to get out of there. Connor, on his part, reached out to him and lifted his hand to ruffle his hair in that loving, gentle way he used to do, but stopped halfway as soon as he felt Janet's murderous aura grow wild and out of control.

“Get well soon.” He said before turning around and run away like a coward.

Well, he couldn’t blame them. He will text them later.

But now he had been left alone, drugged, hurt and with his parents, one trying to be positive and the other willing to kill someone. Who? He doesn't know, but if he survives this, he vows he'll quit caffeine (he won't).

He felt her mother's icy gaze move from his leg to his face, and he had to swallow hard again to try to speak.

“We were going to the cafe and then…” He tried to explain.

“We know what happened.” She cut him off seriously. Of course she knew it, at this point it doesn't surprise him if she knows even the date the bike wheel was created. “Also know who was the responsible. We'll fix it.”

He didn't know how to take that. On one hand, if they didn’t know who had hit him, at this moment they would be tracing all Gotham with all the resources they had to find it out; But on the other, they knew it, and Tim could only feel sorry for whoever that poor soul was, because they had no idea what was going to come after them.

What's more, he was realizing how his father was compulsively sending messages right now, surely to their lawyers, or to public relations, or whoever, but that wasn’t promising anything good.

“I’m fine.” He said looking at his mother, hoping to appease the murderous hunger that was devouring her right now. “Seriously.”

It didn't seem to work, because she didn't move a single muscle and looked at his plastered leg again.

“I don’t see it that way.” She declared in a soft but deadly tone.

He didn’t have the will to refute her. He had never had it when it came to such a situation, after all he had always had a fragile and compromised health, which didn’t help to calm down his parents when he ended in the hospital again.

On the other hand, many people thought that Janet was someone extremely cold and severe to be a mother. Which wasn't exactly true, it’s just... She showed her love in other ways, a little differently. Tim knows when he was born, he was premature, very small, sickly and not the first baby Janet had carried, but the only one who could have born. For this reason, he knows that, although she travels a lot and not many people consider her a model mother, his mother possess an extreme and powerful sense of overprotection embedded in her, and when it’s active threatens to destroy everything and everyone around it. Which was now aimed at the person who hit him, who is going to have to deal with the Drake army of lawyers.

It’s somewhat unfair and exaggerated to waste such an amount of legal power against someone because of a simple accident, unless it’s a good reason, at least that’s what he thinks. He wishes he had said it, but he knows it will be in vain, they are already in it, and he’s also exhausted, the drugs are probably still working. So, before he knew, he was just falling asleep.

As he slipped into the dream world, he really hoped that the person responsible for the accident weren’t someone he knows or cares about, because they could end up hating him.

He also felt his mother gave him a light kiss on the forehead, but that only made him smile.

~0.0~

“I have a problem.”

“Yeah, I’ve figured out.” Roy replied across the table.

He had only raised an eyebrow and put aside his coffee when he saw Jason enter the room and sit in front of him in panic. Well, Roy couldn't do much after being called there so suddenly either.

“A big problem.”

“I felt it when I received your texts.” He said again, more than calm. “Very deep, by the way.”

Jason snorted. Right now, he was going to explode like a popcorn, many things had happened, so it hadn't been in his plans to write a text beyond the “Help, I fucked up” to his best friend.

“Roy, c’mon” He scolded him, agitated. Right now, he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket for all the texts Bruce was sending him, that didn’t help at all.

“Ok, sorry.” The redhead raised his hands in an attempt to calm things down, then looked at him curiously. “What happened?”

Jason writhed uncomfortably in his chair at that question, it's not like it's the first time he asked that to him if the redhead was so calm at the moment it's because he was used to doing this. He had come to Roy because he’s his best friend, the one he trusted, who wouldn’t judge him, and the only one who has the privilege to know certain personal information, which had importance at the moment. The thing is, he had no idea where to start, there were so many things at once, he wanted to think about how to explain them all because he could see his friend getting impatient as he hesitated.

“Jay.” He said, it's not like Roy was very patient to begin with.

“Wait, I'm thinking.”

“You're a literature student, you're supposed to be good at words.”

He's right, but Jason's eloquence was absent since this morning.

“I don't know where to start, dammit.”

“From the beginning.” The other said, then looked to his phone. “I have to pick up Lian from school in an hour, so hurry up.”

Jason sighed and scratched the back of his neck, deciding to say it all at once. He said to himself he does it because he didn’t want to interfere with the single father duties from his friend and not because he was going to explode.

“Okay.” He sighed again, gathering strength to himself. “You remember… That guy?”

“That guy?” Roy asked back.

“Yes.”

“The one we saw on campus earlier in the semester?"

“Yes.”

“The one who's also friends with Kent, the quarterback?”

“Yes.”

“Nerd, short, pretty eyes, nice ass and very cute?”

“Yes. Yes.”

"Totally your type?"

“Yep.”

“The one you have a crush on and look at him from afar, but you deny it and never take the first step because you’re a dramatic bitch?”

“Yes.”

“What? You have finally talked to him?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I ran him over.”

Roy was silent. Completely silent, looking at him and blinking a few times at the news. Jason couldn’t avoid wondering if that was the face he did when he found out he was going to be a dad in high school, but he couldn't joke with that because he was too busy panicking right now.

“What?” The redhead ended up asking to make sure he had heard correctly.

“I ran him over, Roy.” He repeated, feeling the panic build within him again.

The other was quiet again, staring at him stunned.

“I. Ran. Him. Over.” He repeated once more, this time to internalize it himself, because since it had happened, he hadn’t even had time to do it. “During the break, with the bike.”

One, two, three seconds of silence before Roy dared to say anything, and when he did everything that came out of his bright and amazing mind was:

“He’s dead?”

“No!” He yelled in exasperation at that, causing some clients in the cafe to look at him.

He didn't even want to imagine that possibility, he already had enough.

“Well, that’s good.” The other tried to say to see the positive point of the whole thing.

“It’s not. It’s not!” He complained, none of this was okay.

“If you think about it, you've already broken the ice, Jay.” His friend joked to cheer him up. "Everything that follows is easy."

“What I broke was his leg.” He sentenced still agitated, he appreciated the attempts from the other for encouraging him but couldn't work for many reasons. “And wait, there's more.”

“There’s more?” He asked, intrigued, with that face he made every time he heard a gossip that interested him.

“There’s more.” He confirmed with a nod. “Now I know his name.”

“You know it?”

"Yes, I finally know it.”

“Tell me.” He asked, beginning to smile, like an exalted puppy.

“Do you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!”

“Timothy Drake.”

Roy was quiet again, thoughtful. This time Jason swears that he could see how the gears in his head gave their all -which wasn’t much- to assimilate that name and think where he might have heard it before.

“Drake?” The redhead ended up asking with a frown.

“Yeah. Drake.”

"Like… Drake Industries?”

“Exactly.”

"Your father's competitors?!” He asked then, opening his eyes slightly.

He nodded. His adoptive father, Bruce Wayne, was in charge of the famous and multi-million-dollar company called Wayne Enterprise, which for the past few years had been surrounded by strong rivals in Gotham, such as Drake Industries, for example. Directed by Jack and Janet Drake, who apparently have an only child, a student, very attractive and easy to hit.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, taking his phone out of his pocket to show it to his friend, the object had started vibrating again nonstop, texts arriving over and over again. “And guess what: They are not happy!”

“I wouldn't be either if you ran over my daughter.” Roy said as if it was obvious.

“But you don't have a public image, an army of lawyers and a lot of money!” Technically he had it, because Oliver Queen is not exactly from middle class, but he was not rival of his family and the gossip magazines would not publish the minimum friction that they had. “They've already called Bruce and they want a meeting with those involved, they are going to eat me alive."

He was sure they would. The Gotham's corporate and high-society landscape had never been his thing, he was just a street boy who knew no manners and bored by math, it had been clear from the first and only sophisticated gala to which he was forced to go and in which he learned that high society were unscrupulous sharks.

Maybe if he had gone to more of those parties, he would have met Timothy Drake before and wouldn’t have to learn his name after struck him with his motorcycle, but you can no longer change the past.

"Well, yes, you screwed up." Roy finished saying as he nodded, totally convinced.

What a great support. Wise words.

“They're going to kill me, if Bruce doesn't do it before.” He thought aloud, they hadn't even made an appointment with the lawyers, and he was already stressed. “Or Fox with the public relations team.”

He could already see the headlines in the gossip magazines, overshadowing the ones that talked about his older brother's one-night lovers or the ones that mentioned the bad manners the little one had.

“Yes, you are fucked.” Roy said, nodding and taking in what he had just told him, although after a few seconds he frowned. “But… Bro, just one thing.”

“What?” He asked, rubbing his eyes, and doing his best not to pull his hair out.

“How did you end up running over the boy? You are not a bad driver; you are always focus.”

Now it was Jason’s turn to stay quiet and look at the table, blinking as he chooses an answer that didn't make him look like a fucking mess. He couldn't think of any, so he allowed the silence to continue.

"Jason?" Roy asked, beginning to lose patience again. “What happened?”

Still not saying anything, Jay looked down further and felt his cheeks begin to heat up.

"No…" Roy whispered surprised. Knowing him so well gave him too much of an advantage. “Tell me it’s not true.”

He couldn’t do nothing more than blushing stronger, cross his arms and shrug. He wanted to deny what he was thinking, but he couldn’t.

That morning he hadn't expected to see Timothy hanging around that part of campus with his friends as he searched for a place to park his bike. The boy was wearing a wide sweatshirt, but at the same time those tight pants that fit him so well, his blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, the wind ruffled that ebony hair that seemed soft to the touch, and the soft and loving smile that was directed to his friends as they walked together caused things in Jason that he couldn't explain.

So, in one moment he was looking at him stunned and the next he had lost the course of the motorcycle and was hitting him.

Shit happens, right?

Apparently not, because Roy had started laughing. A lot. Had started with a weak and incredulous laugh that had grown to become loud laughter that made the tears jump of his eyes and the people in the cafe look at them again, annoyed.

“I can’t believe it! Jay!” Roy said loudly and laughing like crazy, he could hardly breathe.

“It's not funny.” He replied, his arms crossed and his face anger.

Yes it was, it was very funny indeed. If it had been Roy who had run over his crush for having been too distracted having a gay panic for him, he would have also laughed a lot and wouldn’t have let him forget it for the rest of his life. So, he was sure that his friend was not going to do it too.

“It's amazing!” The other answered trying to dry the tears away but still laughing. “Bud, you’re really fucked.”

Jason knew he was saying it just because being so attracted to a guy to the point of running him over unintentionally was a lot, but if they took into account that surely now that boy hated him, along with his parents, friends, and lawyers, whom he would have to meet soon to deal with the consequences of that, yes, that described his situation quite well.

Jason was fucked.

~0.0~

“I just have one question.” Bruce said to his side, also laying his back on the corridor’s wall.

One day, only one day had passed. 24 hours since he had committed the serious mistake of being too aware of a cutie with black hair and blue big eyes like a damn puppy, and he was already in the law firm wearing a suit, almost sweating and the man he could call father looking at him sternly. They were both in the hallway which was heading to the boardroom as they waited for permission to enter, and Jason had been trying not think about how he had destroyed his chances of dating the Drake boy before Bruce came up to judge him, again.

He didn't blame him, the man had spent the previous day receiving and making calls on his name, making the appointment as he could while containing his desire to give him a slap. He didn’t need the talk of "we are public figures, we have to behave" again, because he gave it that to him a lot at his younger times, so he had tried to stay out of it. This implied that Bruce didn’t have time to ask him anything before he had to get him up earlier to go to the Drake’s law firm. Knowing this, Jason continued looking at nothing, but he nodded to give him the opportunity to ask that question.

“There are more than eighty thousand students enrolled at Gotham University.” The man began to say still looking at him. "And of all of them, you have to run over Timothy Drake precisely?"

Jason seemed to think about it for a few long seconds, although the answer was obvious.

“Yes?” He answered. No one at the university had caught his eye like Tim had, so he doubted he could have been distracted enough by another person to run them over.

Bruce sighed deeply, exasperated, and lifting his hand to the bridge of his nose. He had seen him do that gesture of disappointment so many times throughout his life that he could no longer count them.

"Jason…”

“It was an accident.” He was also lost count the times he had said that since the day before.

"I know, son, but it's not me you have to convince.” He finished explaining, taking another deep breath. “It’s her.”

The tone in which he said that, was uncertain and with severe hints of fear, something he was no longer so used to hearing from Bruce and made a chill run down his spine.

“Her?” He asked, trying not to break his voice from the stress.

Bruce breathed again to try to calm down and nodded, the way he looked at him to reveal more reminded him of Alfred when he told him stories as they cooked together in the manor when he was younger.

“Janet Drake.” He let out that name in a low voice, as if it were forbidden to pronounce it. “You've never met her in person, and I was counting on you not have to.”

“Why?” This time he couldn't stop his voice from breaking slightly.

“Don't get me wrong, she is a beautiful woman, very intelligent and talented. Everyone knows that Drake Industries has come this far thanks to her.” He began to say, in a poor attempt to calm him that was not leading nowhere. "But do you know how she is called?”

“How?” His throat couldn't close anymore, he didn't like where this was going.

“The Ice Queen.” Bruce announced. “That's how she’s known, but I can assure you is not enough.”

This time he didn't want to ask anymore, although Bruce would keep talking. Because the ice queen, the ice queen, the ice queen, fucking seriously? No one who has earned such a name in Gotham's corporate and high-society landscape can be kind and understanding. Fuck.

“I have only seen Janet angry one time.” His father emphasized as he pulled out his tie, as if it were choking him. Maybe he was nervous too. “Many years ago, at a gala organized by the Dumas.”

It took Jason a few seconds. He tried to link that last name to some wealthy Gotham family, but unfortunately, he couldn't think of any.

“Who are the Dumas?” He ended up asking.

Bruce looked him seriously in the eye, returned to pull his tie out and nodded frowning.

“Exactly.” He replied annoyed.

Jason swallowed hard and looked back at nothing at the implication in that response. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was to fucking die, there was a beast in Gotham, a fierce and fearsome beast that apparently erased families from the business and social map and he had angered her, he had angered her a lot. He had awakened the beast by harming her puppy, and everyone knew that nothing was more dangerous than an angry mother.

“Mr. Wayne, you can come in.” They heard the voice of one of the mediators calling them from the door of the boardroom.

It's hot, why it’s so hot? He's sweating, he's sure he's sweating, or maybe crying, but he can't be sure because Bruce has put his hand on his lower back, trying to cheer him up and is directing him to the room followed by his own lawyers because they can't let the Drakes wait, but Jason felt like he was going straight to the slaughterhouse.

When he entered, he was greeted by the sight of another group well-dressed, very serious and sitting across the table, lawyers, public relations, and mediators, ready to work and do reach an agreement between the two of Gotham's biggest families with their friction. However, all of them and their greetings were in the background for him when he realized that in one of the chairs was the small, nerdy and adorable boy who had accidentally hit, who looked at him from his seat surprised by his presence and -surely- for being able to put a face to his attacker. He didn't expect him to be there either, he should be resting, but seeing him made the stress he felt ease at least a little.

Both seemed to stare at each other for a few seconds, recognizing each other, and after what seemed like forever, Timothy gave him a slight, almost imperceptible, sorry smile. Jason's heart jumped and he felt warm for a second, his nerves almost disappeared at that gesture, looking at the way in which the boy had combed different this time for the meeting, how pretty he was -as usual-, or how a dimple formed in his cheek when he was smiling, how beautiful that smile was. He would like to see him smile more, smile at him, and does that mean he didn't hate him? He would like to know, and it was all happiness and hope until he realized why of that sorry smile.

Suddenly he felt cold, so cold.

Janet Drake was also staring at him, sitting right next to her son in a straight and elegant posture, without taking her eyes off him. Black hair, smooth and shiny, delicate features, neutral and apparently calm expression. Beautiful, but unattainable, because her blue, icy eyes pierced him in a way that froze him inside. The woman sitting there seemed to be able to see his soul and rip it off, everything from him, that could split him in two and rip out every part of his being without any effort. And despite appearing calm and serene, her aura, everything in her posture, in her gaze, screamed danger and misfortune.

There’s no doubt, she’s the ice queen in all her glory.

He was wasted.

~0.0~

Tim was wasted.

When he had got up that morning, everything he had asked for was that the meeting was normal and went without any inconvenient. And as he prepared to attend awkwardly and without receive any help, because half a day was not enough time to get used to using crutches, he mentally reviewed what had been planned for that meeting.

His parents hadn’t wanted to reveal who had been the responsible for the incident, he didn’t know exactly the reason, but he sensed it must have been someone important, given the deployment of means that had been carried out, it’s not like they also gave him much opportunity to ask anyway. Both immediately went out to arrange the meeting and to arrange things with the hospital so they would give him discharged, and by the time he was allowed to leave he was too exhausted and wasn’t going to say no to anyone when they asked him to rest even more, because he needed it. Hopefully, he had already had an excuse to turn in those assignments later.

So, despite not knowing who he was going to meet, he had decided to do that unfortunate soul a favor and stay in the line that he was fine, surely it had been an incident, and they didn’t have to give it more importance than it had even though his mother wanted to cut heads and stick them in stakes to decorate the garden.

He was the more affected, his word had to count there... No?

Anyway, that's what he thought before he saw Jason Todd walking through the door.

Now, all crushed down, the meeting had started a while ago and he was quiet, serious and sitting in his chair with the Wayne's in front of him, looking at the fine mahogany table and barely listening to the legal conversation that was taking place in his name, although why he fooled himself? Nothing he could say would change anything or appease his parents. But the thing was, why? why is the world so cruel? Jason Todd? really? Of all people, of all motorcycles in the world, it has to be the one from his crush?

It's not like he'd ever thought he had a slight chance with him after all. Jason was tall, handsome, with that bad boy vibe that he likes too much for his own good, also smart, cult, while Tim was... Tim. They had only spoken face to face once at a gala where a 12-year-old Jason shared a muffin with him and never went to any of them again, sure he didn't even remember it. They also went to different faculties, he only saw him from afar on campus from time to time and they hadn't even spoken, but that didn't stop him from noticing him because he had eyes, thank you. No one knows, except maybe Conner, but beyond a curious sparkle in his eyes after realized that he was drooling over Jason in the distance, he never brought the topic up, so he'd always had that fascination with the Wayne boy in secret and under lock and key. He knew that his parents wouldn't be too happy to find out that he was interested in the son of his greatest competitor, or that he was interested in any boy in general, that topic had never come up anyway and he wasn't going to bring it up.

Until the boy walked into the meeting room with his father and Tim almost had a short circuit when he realized that what hit him was an attractive literature student in a leather jacket riding that incredible Ducati. Come on, it wasn’t fair, he had always wanted to ride that, and then the bike, but it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to think about when the other one was looking at him surprised that he was there. He was so busy panicking that he only managed to give him a nervous smile that he hoped hadn't ridiculed him, and then when they sat down he could only scream internally because Jason was so handsome in a suit, this meeting might not end well, Jay could end up hating him if he didn't already, and his mother hadn’t taken her eyes off the tallest as if she were a shark smelling fresh blood.

So, trying to regain his composure and recover from the revelation, Tim sighed, straightened up in his seat, and pretended to listen the meeting while trying with all his might to calm down.

But he couldn't do it, he couldn’t, because it wasn’t easy. The atmosphere wasn’t the most adequate to do it, he could heard his father laugh and trying to appear friendly and understanding when he knew that it was only a strategy to emphasize the coldness and seriousness of his mother, who, of course, kept looking at the Waynes as if they had committed the greatest offense known to man. He played with his fingers for a moment and peeked to assess the situation, Bruce, or Brucie, kept an eye on the mediator's talk, while Jason… Oh.

He turned his gaze away immediately, trying to control his blush. Jason was looking at him in a sneaky attempt too, but they had both failed when their eyes met across the table. He didn't know what to think about it. Did Jason hate him? He did? What was he thinking? He would hate him, of course. He was too nervous, and the possibilities started to suffocate him, he needed to get out of there.

Luckily, his beloved malevolent mother, the perfect model for being a villain in a Disney movie, possessed a sharp sixth sense that was activated at the slightest sign of anguish on his part, which caused her to divert the piercing gaze of the Waynes to center it on him, silently asking what was wrong.

The only good thing about being run over a day earlier by the guy you like is that he could excuse himself from these kinds of meetings without any repercussions or questions.

“Can I get out for a moment?” He whispered, lowering his head.

His fear of asking something like that wasn’t exactly small, but Janet seemed to consider it for a few seconds as she carefully analyzed him before giving his approval and nodding, not before turning his gaze once more to Jason.

Before deciding to worry more about it, he stood up as he could with the crutches and managed to leave the room ignoring the looks on him. His goal was to get to the water machine that was around the hall to pour himself a glass and calm down a bit, but that broken leg didn’t make it easy for him. It was a hard journey; he swears when he got there, he could hear the victory music of Mario Kart playing in his head.

It would have kept playing, he would even have sang it, if it hadn't been because while pouring that first glass, a voice behind him caught his attention and made him jump and turn around with all the speed he had, which wasn’t a lot.

“Hey.” Jason had said softly.

He had to put everything he had together so as not to drop the plastic cup or crush it in his hands. How had he also escaped from the meeting? So much time had passed since his trip to the water machine?

“H-Hey.” He replied nervously and looking down.

That seemed to make Jason nervous too, who already seemed to be it before too, as well as a little guilty, because he tried to look everywhere except him until he had no choice.

“Hi.” Said the tallest.

“Hi.” He replied again.

Eloquent. Inspiring.

They ended up looking at each other closely, at least for a minute before Tim began to fear again and prepare himself for the impending rejection he was going to suffer without even trying. That happened to him for crossing the street without looking before.

But then Jason sighed hard, he tensed and scream in his mind than he wasn’t ready.

“Listen. I…” He began to say, scratching the back of his neck and looking at him sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Eh?

“Eh?”

The other looked at him confused at his reaction. Although surely, he wasn't more confused than he was, he didn't expect an apology even though it was the most normal thing to do in those situations.

“I'm sorry.” Jason repeated, frowning in confusion. "It was an accident, really. And I'm glad you're okay."

If Jason Todd didn’t want him having a massive crush on him this isn’t the way. At all. He had no right to be so attractive to begin with, but neither so good nor kind to him. Before Tim could think better of it, he was already spitting out an unnecessary question:

“Aren't you angry?” He asked, he knew it sounded a bit stunned, but it seemed weird to him. “For all of this?”

Anyone would have been upset or angry about all the trouble their parents had been having over something like that, with the lawyers, the firm, and the notaries. If it had been someone else, they would have caused them a lot of trouble, he was aware of it. So, he couldn't help but wonder how Jason couldn't blame him for the legal mess.

“Shouldn't I be the one asking that?” Jason said raising an eyebrow and pointing at his crutches. “You were the most affected.”

Blinking, Tim realized what he was implying on that and he quickly shook his head effusively. Jason thought he was angry at him? That he hated him for this or something? That’s why he had been so tense with him?

“Oh no. It’s okay.” He hastened to explain. “I know it was an accident, I wasn't paying attention either, those things happen.”

Jason's shoulders seemed to lift as if a huge weight had been lifted from him, and his eyes shone at him in a way he couldn't determine, made him want to smile, this time from relief. Jason didn't hate him, or vice versa. That was a good sign, wasn't it? It meant he had a chance… Right?

“Thank god.” Murmured the other with a slight smile, clearly relieved.

“Unless you did it on purpose.” He dared to say with a playful tone, wanting to take weight off the issue. “In which case, it wouldn't be so good.”

Jason's smile widened and he let out a funny snort, relaxing him was a plus and made Tim compliment himself for that.

“How would I have met you then?” Jason blurted out, still smiling at him.

The atmosphere between them changed completely, it was no longer so uncomfortable or formal, but very different, embarrassed, and warm. Tim felt how his heart stopped before starting to beat faster, because that last one, the way he had said it, and the nervous look he was giving him now, was Jason flirting with him? It was real?

“A-Ah.” He replied mildly surprised. “I don’t know…”

If he continued like this, his brain would definitely fry, more than it already was. He looked at the hallway wall uneasily as Jason ruffled his hair, also undecided.

“I'd like to make it up to you.” He ended up saying, looking like he had come to an agreement with himself. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh?” He asked, tilting his head curiously, his heart starting to beat stronger than before by the tiny possibility.

“I can invite you to a coffee, or something like that… It would be okay?”

This time when Jason looked up, still seemed impatient and nervous, but the slight blush covering his cheeks indicated why. Tim almost exploded right there, and he had to take all of himself to act quickly.

“Yes. A coffee would be fine.” He also nervously stated, trying to control himself. “It would be a date?”

The brief seconds Jason took to answer that question born from his desire to know, seemed like hours to him, the longest in Tim's life. But when he ended up nodding, scratching the back of his neck again and totally flushed, he couldn't help but smile excitedly and let his own blush appear this time, feeling warm and happy.

“Then I'd love to.” He answered laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Yes? Really?” Jason asked in surprise again, as if it hadn't been clear from the start that he would say yes. Although by the way they ended up talking, it wasn’t surprising that he doubted his answer, not many people forgave something like a struck with a bike.

“Yes.” He nodded again, totally sure. “What about now?”

No, he didn’t want to go back to the meeting, he knew Jason either. It was no longer worth it. And maybe with this they could give the public relations team something else to work with.

Jason smiled at him in that warm and happy way that made him feel dizzy, but he looked to the hallway of the meeting room somewhat concerned.

“Bruce is used to me avoiding these things, but I don't think your mother would be very happy.”

After a moment of thinking about it, Tim almost went back to laugh again, happy, funny, almost touched.

Before that meeting and his departure from it he hadn’t been sure, but with Jason now in front of him there was no doubt. Her mother expressed her love in very different ways, and it was evident that she had an efficient and sharp mother radar, there was nothing that escaped her, there was nothing she didn't know, no matter how much Tim had tried to hide his panic at the beginning of the meeting, or his sexuality itself. He was very sure that by now she had to know, and if she wouldn't have wanted him or Jason to leave the room, she wouldn’t allowed it. If she hadn't wanted them to talk right now, Jason wouldn't be there. It was that simple.

“I think we'll be fine.” He assured him with a wide smile, taking his mother's actions as a kind of blessing.

When Jason's eyes shined and he smiled back, he confirmed it.

Yes, they would be fine.

~0.0~

“You look so pretty today, Janet. You haven’t changed at all since our last meeting.” Said Brucie with his usual smile.

“…”

“How much time has passed? Six years?”

“…”

“And look at you, beautiful as always.”

“…”

“Jack is a lucky man.”

“…”

“And Timothy? Oh, I remember when he was little, totally the cutest thing in the galas. Now is a man too, but he looks a lot like you.”

“…”

“Kids, uh? Grow up so fast.”

“…”

“Talking about kids, ours have left a while ago, maybe I should go to find th-”

“Sit down.”

Bruce sit down and didn’t speak again.

#myfic #jaytimweek #jaytimweek2020 #dc comics #batman #jaytim #timjay #tim drake #jason todd #red robin #red hood #college au

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