#i set up my station Perfectly today. the second try
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lazylittledragon · 20 days ago
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look at me getting this placement right after only fucking it up one time before
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alotofpockets · 1 year ago
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Not your typical date | Wanda Maximoff | Part 2
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: After meeting Wanda's kids and you spend more and more time getting to know her and her family.
Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.2k
Part 1 | Part 2
Since that first day that you had met Billy and Tommy, you spent the weekends that the boys were with Wanda at their place. The boys loved showing you a new recipe every week and you loved to learn every recipe that they wanted to show you. Unintentionally the four of you had started your own little tradition. Billy and Tommy loved having you around, and when they found out that you loved gaming as much as you did, they loved it even more.
On the weekends and throughout the week, you spent most of your free time with Wanda. The two of you continued to get to know each other and grow closer together. To be honest, it felt like you had known Wanda for a lifetime, in the best way possible. You clicked so instantly that you couldn’t remember your life without her. Over the months you had met her friends and her brother Pietro, you loved being a part of Wanda’s life. She had also met your friends and family, everything just clicked perfectly.
You were walking around the grocery store when you saw Wanda’s name pop up on your screen. She was working today, so you hadn’t expected her call, but picked up after the second ring. “Hi baby.” You say as you pick up. “Hi love, I’m so sorry to ask you this, but I desperately need a favor.” You hear worry in her voice, “Of course, anything.” You assure her. “I just got a call from the boy’s school that they have both spiked a fever, and they need to be picked up. I can’t get away from work, I have a meeting with the big bosses today and they flew in for this meeting. After the fishing trip thing with Vision, I cannot ask him to pick them up and I was hoping that maybe you would be able to. I know it is a lot to ask.” - “Hey Wands, it’s not too much to ask, I’ve got you. Just text me the address of the school and I’ll be on my way.” You hear Wanda release a deep sigh, “Thank you so much, I’ll let the teacher know you’ll be picking them up and I’ll come right over when my meeting is done. I love you, thank you.” You smile at how much she cares for her sons. “I love you too, baby. I’ll keep you updated on the boys.”
You grab a few ingredients for chicken noodle soup, and kids medicine before heading to the register, forgetting the rest of your shopping. When you arrive at the school the boys are both looking pale sitting at the nurses station. You had planned to take them to their own house, but seeing as they were nauseous and the car ride wasn’t helping much in that department you decided to bring them to yours instead, since it was closer to the school. Once inside you led them to the guest room, you had them sit down on the bed so you could take their shoes off for them. “Mommy always gives us one of her really big shirts when we’re sick.” Tommy says with a shrill voice. “Do you have those too, y/n?” You set their shoes to the side. “Two big shirts coming up.” 
The shirts you grabbed turned out to be exactly what they meant. You helped them change since their bodies hurt too much to do it themselves. You tucked them in and said that you would be right back. In a couple of minutes you were by their side again with two cups of water and some of the medicine that you got. “Your mom said that this is the medicine you usually take at home. Here, this should make you feel better soon.” And handed each of them some. You also placed a cold washcloth on their foreheads since they were heating up again. “Okay, try to get some sleep, boys. I will be right outside if you need anything okay? And your mom will be here soon too.” 
You walked into the kitchen and texted Wanda an update on the boys and told her that you took them to your place. She was in her meeting but you knew that she would be worried about them and would check her phone the moment that she had time. After that you started on the soup so that it would be ready for when the boys woke up. 
About two hours after you tucked Billy and Tommy in you heard footsteps coming your way. “Hey guys, how are you feeling?” Neither one of them still felt nauseous, but they said that they still weren’t feeling great. You offered them some soup, they each took a few sips of the broth before saying that they were done with it. “That’s okay. Do you guys maybe want to watch a movie before your mom get’s back?” They picked out the movie that they wanted to watch and sat down on the couch on either side of you. Tommy leaned into your side so you wrapped your arm around his shoulder so he could comfortably lay against you. Billy saw his brother getting more comfortable and decided he wanted that too, so he laid down on the couch and put his head down on your lap. Your heart warmed at how comfortable the boys were with you and started the movie cuddled up with them.
You were so focussed on the movie that you missed the notifications on your phone, saying that Wanda was done with her meetings and was on her way to your place. She used the emergency key that you gave her, in case Billy and Tommy were still asleep. When she walked into the living room and saw the three of you cuddled up on the couch, all her worries left her body. On the way to your place her mind was racing, what if this was too big of a step too soon? What if the boys weren’t comfortable? What if you didn’t have the things that the boys usually wanted when they were sick? Seeing the three of you just peacefully watching a movie, and the boys were wearing some of your oversized t-shirts, she realized that the boys were comfortable with you and that you were with them as well. She walks up to the couch and kisses each of you on the forehead, as well as asking her kids how they are feeling. 
After a shower Wanda joins you in the kitchen, while the boys continue to watch the movie. “Thank you so much for today.” Wanda says as she walks up closer to you and places a kiss on her cheek. “Do you mind if they stay until the movie is done? I’ll take them home after.” - “I don’t mind them staying at all. You can all stay the night, if you want to of course. I know the boys had some good rest in the guest room earlier.” Wanda was okay with that too, she was actually quite happy that she could stay and rest after her long day. You joined the kids back on the couch and finished watching the movie cuddled up together.
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littlemelaninfics · 1 year ago
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Mistaken Identity
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Warnings: angst, soft!dom Carmy
The Bear kitchen was hot as usual. The doors for lunch open in 37 minutes and like everyday the tension was high.
Carmy is snaking through the kitchen making sure everything and everyone are where they're supposed to be,
"Where are the t-bones?! I should have 5 t-bone steaks trimmed and prepped on this station!" Carmy yelled as he slammed his hand on the metal table grabbing everyone's attention.
"Someone thought it would be a good a idea to test a new wine glaze and pushed back the steak prep," Sydney informed her boss.
"Who?"
Sydney slowly looked to her left with Carmy's hard gaze following, only to be met with a "nonchalant" Richie,
"Oh c'mon! What the fuck, Sydney! Fuckin snitch," Richie whined as he threw his hands up.
"If you think I'm going to stand here and let anybody else get chewed out because of your idiocracy, you are dumber than I thought-"
"I'm not dumb, Sydney! I had a great idea and it would've worked perfectly if I was in the right environment. Can't do shit with you toxic people around me."
"You make it toxic by making people fall behind! You don’t think of anyone else but yourself-"
"I was thinking of the whole restauarant when I started back there so don't even start that with me!" Richie yelled in defense.
The two started overlapping each other and getting louder and louder before Carmy had enough,
"Alright. Alright. ALRIGHT! Fucking ENOUGH! Jesus,” Carmy said cutting both of them off.
“Next person to fuck up my prep is so fucked-" he didn’t even let himself finish the sentence before sighing deeply and starting another,
“Y/n, grab and prep the t-bones before you do anything else.” The look he gave you sent shivers down your spine and you nodded your head slightly. He gave everyone else their orders before storming past Richie,
“Kill the fucking heat, grab the cutting board and dice onions.” Richie rolled his eyes at the grunt work.
Carmy grabbed the rag off his shoulder and wiped his brow,
“Gimmie that shit,” he said pointing to the “glaze” on the stove. Richie handed the pan to his cousin in way that would’ve been fine, but today he grabbed for it without looking.
"Why the fuck would you hand me a hot pan?! Huh?"
“Maybe if you were looking-"
“Shut the fuck up, Richie!”
You heard the commotion and headed towards the noise. You saw Carmy holding his hand and rushed over to help him. You tried to guide him to the sink when his wrath turned to you,
“What, what, what!? What the fuck do you want!?”
��I’m-um. You got burned so-"
“So what!? I told where to be so why aren’t you there!?”
“I was just trying to help you,” your voice was very low. His tone was one you connected with your head chef, but the look in his eyes was definitely something more personal.
“Chef, did I or did I not tell you to prep those steaks?” All you could do was stare back at him with a head full of nothing.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes..”
It’s like he can see you malfunctioning on whether to say “yes chef” or “yes daddy” because in two seconds of you not answering, he’s standing at full height and licking his lips,
“Get out of my sight and into the back,” he said in a very low tone that had the rest of staff looking around for confirmation from one another. You stumble backwards a few steps before regaining your footing and beelining for the office.
You kick yourself for being so stupid. You knew better than to get caught up like that. In the middle of your one on one scolding, the office door flung open and was slammed shut again. You stood up from leaning against the desk and met him face to face. Your eyes wanted to scan the rest of his features, but his were set so you didn’t dare avert yours.
The tension became too much and you broke,
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You got hurt and I didn’t think-"
“For what?” Carmy reiterated.
You looked at him confused before he got the hint,
“For getting distracted.”
“For getting distracted,” you repeated. The eye contact continued and so did you,
“I don’t like seeing you get hurt,” you said hanging your head low. Carmy could see it in the kitchen, but this just solidified that you were slipping into a space reserved for outside of work.
“Hey, hey, hey. I’m fine. Okay? I promise. But if we’re gonna keep doing this, then you have to behave. Got it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” you said with a wide grin growing.
“Good girl.”
a/n: carmy berzatto aka just jeremy allen white period has been living in my head. this man is 5’7 with a 6’9 personality of bde 🍆
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starhvney · 7 months ago
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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓: 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐒
𝐂𝐖: none? very wholesome today.
𝐀/𝐍: um.. so this chapter originally was supposed to be cool moms and a dinner... but now it's just cool moms because i realized i was nearing 7k works and the dinner hadn't even started lmao. anyways enjoy this chapter it's super cute
𝐖𝐂: 6,400 +
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒
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ivy didn’t even glance your way as you walked into homeroom the next day, her hair covering her bruised cheek and head turned sharply away from you. a few people mentioned the slight splotch of purple against her porcelain skin, but it seemed everyone was under the impression that she had just fallen and injured herself. 
you’re surprised that she didn’t try to frame you for her injury, especially since you came to school the next day with not even a red mark against your skin. you suppose she really wanted garroth to be under the impression she was a sweet girl who would never get in a fight.
oh, please. 
it’s not like she had to try extra hard to do so, with how trusting and kind the school’s “prince charming” was. 
to add on to your suspicions, ivy proceeded to not bother you for the rest of the week. it was something that was both relieving and incredibly anxiety-inducing. was she really done messing with you? or was she planning something else?
your thoughts are interrupted as you nearly collide with a meif’wa girl who was stationed around the corner and peeking from behind some lockers at the display in front of her. aphmau and a familiar-looking boy argued in the hall, just outside of the werewolf classroom.
the meif’wa girl turns to you, her round eyes holding a brilliant shade of gold and pale cheeks colored a lovely shade of pink. a pink that similarly matched her straight hair that framed her round cheeks and curled at the ends of her shoulders. with her perfectly groomed black tail and ears and the cute bows she used to accessorize, she looked like an adorable porcelain doll. 
“excuse me!” she muffles an apology behind the hand she raised to her mouth, her voice mousey and soft.
“oh, that’s okay! i was sidetracked,” you glance back at your friend and the boy who towered over her. “um… what are you doing?”
“well, i always end up passing by those two after my classes are over, and i’m starting to think maybe they like each other without realizing.” she blinks up at you, her smile particularly cheeky and feline. “i want to see if my ship sets sail.”
“your…ship?” you trail questionably, frowning at aphmau’s peeved expression and the guy's deep frown on his scratched and bandaged face.
was this the rude classmate from werewolf studies that aphmau had mentioned before? 
“yeah, wouldn’t the enemies to lovers be cute?! and he’s the new “bad boy” junior. i love playing cupid in the school,” she giggles from behind her hand. 
you blink, watching as the rather scary-looking boy rolls his eyes, looking totally fed up as aphmau holds her hands on her hips.
“uhh… yeah. nice to meet you by the way,” you give her your name, politely waiting for her to respond as you slowly make your way towards the two.
“oh! it’s… nana.”
“i’ll catch you around sometime,” you wave, before quickly shuffling right up to the tense duo.
man, he is tall. his skin was a tanned olive color, with cuts and bandages littered across his face. ink-black hair hung messily in front of his equally dark eyes and thick brows.
“you ready to go home, aph?” you ask, though you kept your eyes trained directly on deep brown ones.
you recall why you thought he was familiar now, he was the one who unintentionally photobombed your first-day selfie with aphmau and bumped into her without apologizing. 
she lets out an irritated huff of air, muttering a “yes” before marching down the hall before you.
you stare at the boy a second longer, before turning away and stretching out your stride to catch up to aphmau. the two of you make your way out of the doors, walking down the street in silence.
“…so?” you start, raising an eyebrow and carefully lacing your hands behind your back. 
“i confronted him on why he teases me and is rude to me for no reason and he just said “i was annoying”,” she uses air quotes as she mocks his choice of words. “so i got mad and said he was a jerk and no one would want to be friends with him if he acts like that to people who are just trying to be nice.”
you roll your eyes.
“good. if you act like that all your life you’ll end up sad and alone.”
“that’s what i said!”
when you make it home, your mom is once again eagerly awaiting to tell you something, still in her work clothes as she lingers near the entryway.
“so! we happened to move closer to some other family friends that were also friends with the salomes, and we’re going to meet them all at the park tomorrow afternoon.” she announces to you as you enter the kitchen, clasping her hands together excitedly. “there’s three boys around your age, too!”
“uh, what? why am i just now finding this out?”
“oh don’t worry so much, i’m gonna be there and they’re sweet kids. at least they should be.”
you huff, “alright then.”
you and your mom enter the park from a different side than when you came last time, the trees are less dense, and there’s lots of open space to run around. nearby is a pretty and intricate fountain, with a sculpture of the matron on top. you glance away from it, eyes immediately landing on aphmau and then sylvanna.
sylvanna smiles warmly, approaching mom and giving her a hug. “it’s good to see you again, girl!”
“i know! it’s so good to see you!”
aphmau and you glance at each other a bit awkwardly, crossing your arms as your mothers once again hit it off.
“and oh, mija! you look so cute today, que linda!” her mom’s warm brown eyes land on you.
“thank you-“
“yes, of course! well, why don’t you two talk while we catch up and wait for zianna? when we older ladies go jogging together you two can play with her kids!”
before you can say anything else, the two walk a short distance away, already chatting up a storm with wide eyes and…seriously intense expressions.
“uh, whose kids? what?” aphmau exasperatedly asks to no reply.
you look over to aph as she holds her hands out in annoyed confusion. her hair is held back by a red headband that matches her outfit: red sneakers along with a red square-neck tank top that was loosely tucked into a denim skirt.
you shrug at the girl, used to not being told what was happening until the last possible moment.
“uh… good to see you, i like your outfit?” you start awkwardly.
“…thank you.” she says, looking down at her attire as if she had forgotten what she wore today.
you walk over to a bench that rests under a large and twisted tree. the afternoon sun beats down on the pavement and reflects onto your faces despite taking refuge under the leaves, causing the two of you to squint at each other. the heat from the summer had finally begun to leave, thankfully, and a warm breeze rustled some of the trees, sending some more leaves onto the ground's growing collection.
aphmau sighs, leaning back as she gazes around at the park.
“ugh, at least i’m with you,” she mutters. “are we gonna have to babysit some five-year-old brats?”
“oh, no actually i don’t think-“
“hey, girlfriends!” a bright and cheery voice interrupts your conversation.
you turn to see a beautiful woman with warm green eyes and black hair tied back into a styled ponytail. she was definitely a grown woman, but her blue—and slightly revealing—jogger set and trendy gold jewelry told a different story.
“ah! wassup girl!” sylvanna calls out from behind you, both her and mom jogging up to the woman who you now assume is the third mother in this get-together.
“oh you two, it’s been too long,” the black-haired woman greets. “and you both are still lookin’ fine!”
“zianna, it’s so good to see you!”
“what’s with the slang?” you lean over and mutter to aphmau, who rolls her eyes.
“that must be where my mom learned it from, it’s been nonstop with her, too.”
suddenly the cheery voice is closer.
“oh! and look at you two! you two became so beautiful, like little dolls! lookin’ just like your pretty mamas! you all are going to have so much fun together!”
“oh, um thank you, it’s nice to meet you-“ you start.
“it’s nice to meet you! wait… you ‘all’? great. so we’re babysitting multiple brats.”
you turn to glance at aphmau warily. now why would you say that…
“well, i wouldn’t exactly call us brats.” a familiar deep and smooth voice causes you to jump as you spin back around towards the source.
garroth stands tall as usual, today wearing a dark teal carhartt jacket over a white tee and some loose tan cargo pants and white sneakers to pair. his fluffy hair is tucked under a baseball hat with the pdh emblem and a small captain embroidered along the side. behind him were two slightly shorter boys, their faces filled with a tad more youth based on the baby fat that still clung to their cheeks.
one had a lovely shade of chocolatey brown hair and shared the same warm green eyes as their mother. he had a kind, friendly face, one of childish friendliness and openness that hadn’t been squandered by teenage years. 
the other was… starkly different from the others. straight, dark black hair covered the right side of his face, hiding the rest of the rather cute freckles that splayed across his cheeks and nose. his strikingly icy blue eyes and pale—almost nearly translucent looking—skin contrasted against the rest of his dark outfit and features. he looked the least athletic out of the other two, his loose hoodie swallowing and hiding what looked like a thin and gangly frame underneath. 
“wha- i- garroth?” aphmau stutters out, her jaw dropping in complete shock. “what are you doing here?”
“huh. so you’re the other kids. that’s funny.” i smile. “who would’ve thought our moms were friends?”
“i… oh…” aphmau finally catches on, her thin eyebrows raising in surprise.
an annoyed sigh comes from the black-haired kid, who you can now safely assume is garroth’s brother. “so, these are the brats we have to babysit?”
you wrinkle your nose and narrow your eyes at his complaint. well, aren’t you just a ball of sunshine? 
“babysit?” you echo.
he doesn't seem older than you. in fact it would be safe to assume he was younger considering the higher, nasally, middle-schooler voice he had.
“hey, not-alone buddy!” the other brother cheeses in aphmau’s direction, baby cheeks squishing against his smile and crinkling his eyes.
“mom, are you kidding me? these guys also go to my school!” aphmau looks back at her mother.
“oh, how did we not talk about that?” your mom giggles, the other ladies laughing along with her.
“i had no idea your boys went to the same school as my daughter!”
“oh, samesies! that’s so adorable!” zianna cheers. as she smiles i can see where that brown-haired boy got his energetic grin from.
“i guess that means we have a lot to catch up on. ready for our jog?”
“yep! ok, kids, have fun together!” zianna turns to the emo brother. “remember, zuzu, i want you to try at least one sport with your brothers and new friends while you’re here at the park! we need to toughen you up, but not so much that you aren’t so tough for mommy kisses!”
under the black hair, you can see his pale skin turn to a bright red in embarrassment. 
“mom! stop embarrassing me!” he complains. his voice has a slight whine to it.
“i love you too, zuzu! you kids play nice!” she airily smiles and waves, already beginning to walk backward from us, to which your and aphmau’s moms follow.
“be good! text me if there’s an emergency!” your mom waves to you, seemingly excited about the meetup despite being much more mellow than the other two women.
you smile and wave to her before holding a thumbs up. “kay!”
“do you still listen to beyoncé, zianna?”
“are you kidding me? i brought this portable speaker so we could listen to her while we run! it’s gonna be the bomb dot com!”
“word, yo!”
and they’re gone.
“oh wow.” the youngest boy sighs.
“can mom get any more embarrassing?”
“hm. so that’s where my mom learned to talk like that. i see.” aphmau says, raising her eyebrows and narrowing her eyes in accusation.
“uhh, i’m pretty sure your mom rubbed off on our mom.” garroth pipes in.
“more than likely they both rubbed off on each other and it just started escalating.”
“hey, garroth!” you finally greet, gathering your bearings and waving to the tall boy.
his eyebrows raise and his eyes soften to the look of an adorable puppy dog. he gives a small smile, back waving at you and chirping your name in greeting. you turn to look at garroth’s brothers.
“ah, i haven’t met you two yet,” you introduce yourself. “it’s nice to meet you two.”
“yeah, whatever. now we’re stuck in this stupid park in the stupid sun.” the dark-haired boy slinks away from you with his hands shoved in his pockets.
you have to stop your jaw from dropping in bewilderment. is this boy really garroth’s little brother? there’s no way they share an ounce of dna. 
“hey baby brother, where are you going?” garroth questions, his lips dropping into a disappointed frown as he follows the scrawny boy.
“i’m going to sit under a tree. on my phone. and as isolated from you four as possible.”
you glance at the other brother, who offers a sheepish smile.
“i’m vylad, it’s nice to meet you too… sorry about zane.”
you shrug your shoulders awkwardly.
“um… it’s no problem. nice to meet you, vylad-“
“nope! come on now, you heard mom. we need to get you into a sport.”
“i’m not doing it.”
garroth and—as vylad kindly introduced for you—zane have begun to talk a bit more heatedly from the tree zane decided to stubbornly plop himself under. 
“yes, you are.”
“why should i?”
garroth looks down in contemplation, before looking up at zane with an almost mischievous expression.
“because if you don’t, i’ll hug you in front of the entire school every chance i get. for the rest of the year.”
you three spectators snicker in amusement as zane looks down in annoyance.
“…i hate you, garroth.”
oh.
“aww, zane! you should just tell your brother you love him.” aphmau laughs, a bit nervously at that.
“shut up you girl-woman-thing!”
“girl-woman-thing?” you deadpan, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.
“uhh… so, vylad! pick a sport.” aphmau quickly recovers.
“easy! soccer!”
garroth has walked back to us. he’s smiling, but the corners of his mouth turn into something that looks more dejected.
“are you sure? i was thinking base-“
“oh my gosh! i love soccer, vylad!” aphmau gasps.
“really? you should’ve said something when you were talking about it with laurance. you should try out for the team,” garroth starts tugging off his jacket, tossing it onto the nearby bench.
“i played a lot of soccer as a kid, so i wanted to try something new. like track, maybe. i still really love soccer, though!” she looks back to where the parking lot is. “i actually have a soccer ball in my mom’s car, i’ll go get it.”
“okay, i know a perfect spot in the park to play on!” vylad agrees, excitedly beginning to walk down the sidewalk. “it’s further down this way.”
you nod, glancing over at aphmau. she waves you on along with the brothers, already walking off to the parked cars.
“alright! you guys go, and i’ll meet you there, okay?”
you split off from her, following the boys down the pavement before remembering garroth’s teal carhartt still on the bench.
“oh!”
you spin back around jogging and retrieving the jacket before catching up to garroth. it’s heavier than expected, and you jokingly pretend to use it as a dumbbell before handing it off to him.
“i threw a baseball in my pocket and my phone is in there, so thanks,” he sheepishly accepts it, tucking it over the crook of his elbow.
“while aphmau and your brothers play soccer—“
zane sighs in annoyance from behind you.
“—do you want to play catch? i’ll probably drop it more than i actually catch it, but…”
garroth chuckles, reaching up to softly facepalm in amusement.
“sure, i’ll throw softly.”
you clap your hands quietly, turning to the younger boy that you had finally caught up to.
“so, vylad, right? are you in aphmau’s class or something?” you inquire, wondering where the edge lord behind you fits into the equation.
“yep! i transferred from o’khasis prep cause the commute was too far, and i got to move up a grade cause i had pretty good grades.”
“oh! that’s cool,” you glance back at garroth. “i thought i heard that o’khasis accent.”
garroth’s eyes widen for a split moment as the tips of his ears begin to redden. vylad giggles a bit, finally stopping in front of a pretty field with freshly trimmed and thick grass. conveniently, it also has two goals set up on either side for community use.
“yeah, zane and i actually got homeschooled for a bit and didn’t catch on to the accent, so garroth is mainly the one who still kinda has it from when we lived there.”
you hum in understanding, glancing back at the boy who was readjusting his hat and scratching the nape of his neck.
“i didn’t know i still had one.”
“it’s nice.”
you’d almost forgotten that the emo kid was there until he sighed again, looking around for a shady spot to retreat to. before he could walk away, garroth yanks him back by the hoodie, pulling him into a forced side hug. zane makes a noise of discomfort, a sound mixed with annoyance and disgust.
“no, you’re gonna play with vylad and aphmau.”
zane glares over at the brown-haired brother who has wandered a little off into the field. he holds out a thumbs up, smiling as he squints through the sun's rays.
“why don’t you actually say something nice to her?” garroth pinches zane’s shoulder.
shockingly light blue eyes glare at you through straight, dark lashes, narrowing at you in pure annoyance.
“hi,” he tensely greets, jaw immediately clenching.
“hi…” you awkwardly return, before pointing towards your cheeks. “um, i like your freckles…?”
the boy’s nose wrinkles, seemingly not liking the cute undertones your compliment implied. despite the look of refusal and defiance that he gives you, his whole face begins to grow pink.
“okay?” he snarkily responds, looking at you like you had just said the sky was green.
“go with vylad,” garroth groans, releasing him and lightly pushing him forward, causing him to stumble out into the grassy field.
he catches his footing, shooting a sharp glare back to garroth and flashing him with his middle finger, black rings and nails contrasting against the pale skin. garroth shrugs at him, completely unphased.
“i’m sorry about him, he’s uh… going through,” he gestures at the boy in black now skulking over to vylad who was jumping around like a goofball. “uh, whatever that is.”
you shake your head with a dry laugh, shrugging your shoulders.
“it’s fine, it’s not your fault.”
he sighs, frowning at his younger brothers.
“yeah well…” he begins, trailing off before shaking his head. “never mind.”
“i got it!” you hear aphmau announce, her small footsteps bounding up to you and stomping to a stop right next to you, soccer ball in her hands. “you playing?”
“we’re not that good at soccer, so we were gonna let you and vylad teach zane while we play catch over here,” garroth pulls out the baseball from his pocket… and then reaches into the hidden inner lining of his jacket and pulls out two baseball gloves.
how did he hide those in there?
aphmau blinks, before shrugging and excitedly running off into the field with a chirpy, “okay then!”
garroth smiles at you before looking down at the two gloves, handing you the slightly smaller and much more worn one.
“this one was from when i was younger. it’ll fit you better and it's worn in already, so it’ll be easier to catch.”
“oh, thanks.”
he nods, tossing up the ball in his hand and catching it as he paces a little distance away from you. he lightly spins the baseball between his fingers before nodding at you to get ready. you lift the glove up, feeling a bit nervous as the broad-shouldered baseball captain stands in front of you.
“what position do you play, garroth?”
“pitcher.”
he throws the ball your way. it’s still dauntingly fast, and your whole face unwillingly flinches as the ball smacks against the glove. you can tell he barely put any force into it, too, which makes you feel bad for anyone who has to bat up against him.
“i can tell,” you meekly respond, holding the ball between your first two fingers and your thumb.
“sorry…i thought i threw that soft,” garroth smiles, a small entertained laugh leaving his lips.
you shake your head sheepishly, throwing the ball back and watching as it satisfyingly lands in garroth’s glove.
“not bad,” he throws the ball back, a bit slower this time. “how do you like phoenix drop so far?”
“uhhh—“ you think of your recent detention and put a little more force into your throw. “it’s okay.”
“just okay?”
“well, it’s school. and i guess there’s a few good people who have made it better so far.”
you deadpan back at him when he doesn’t throw back the ball, instead humming and readjusting his cap while looking at you expectantly
“yes, you’re one of them.”
he grins cheekily, tossing the ball back in satisfaction.
“cool.”
“i can run.” you hear zane protest, and you turn to look at the group. aphmau is slowly backing up, arms crossed as she watches him glare at his polar opposite brother.
“…really?”
“away from you.”
you glance back at garroth before both of you silently agree to walk closer. you both pause near aphmau, who is picking at her nails.
“sorry… i knew you were excited to play soccer,” garroth apologizes for his brother’s behavior once again, glaring over at the boy’s attitude.
“it’s,” she sighs. “fine. at least he’s giving it a chance? he always seems so lonely in class.”
garroth shrugs, looking on at his brothers with a complex of emotions on his face. 
“yeah, but he likes to be alone, so i try to respect it. he’s my little brother, so it’s not like i can parent him out of being that way, even if i try.”
you watch his side profile as he stares at his younger brothers. he looked so fond of them… but strangely distant. 
“no! i don’t want to play with you vylad!”
“fine…” vylad sighs, his tone dejected. “then garroth can kick to you.”
“hell no!”
“what’s going on?” garroth walks forward, aphmau and i trailing behind.
“zane being emo,” vylad shoots a glare at his peeved brother. “he doesn’t want me or you to kick the ball to him.”
“it’s stupid.”
“you just don’t want garroth or i to show you up.”
“shut up.”
“i’ll kick with you, zane,” aphmau pipes up, nervously stepping forward.
zane looks at her for a moment before bursting out in laughter.
“you? you couldn’t kick the ball to me from where you are right now with those twinkle-toe-looking short-ass kid legs.”
you hate that the corner of your mouth twitches in amusement. 
“zane,” garroth says, his tone threateningly even and deep as he shoots an irritated glare at the boy. “that’s rude.”
aphmau walks forward, grabbing the ball from vylad. she sets out on the ground before kicking the ball right by zane’s shoulders and into the goal’s net. 
“you're supposed to block it, by the way.”
“that was just a practice run.”
vylad walks towards you and garroth, though his eyes are trained on his older brother’s, his excitement from before now turned into a disappointed frown. garroth’s hand claps onto vylad’s shoulder, patting the younger boy assuredly with a sigh.
thwack!
your attention is suddenly pulled back to the mood-killer of the day, only to find him crumpled on the ground with his hand to his face. garroth, who saw the whole thing, doubles over in silent laughter and uses vylad to keep him upright. 
“damn,” vylad says, before joining garroth in his giggles.
“oh… my… i’m so sorry!” aphmau apologizes frantically, her hand slapping over her mouth.
you sigh, jogging towards zane as a strange feeling of pity fills your stomach. he sits himself up, hands still on his head when you reach your hand out for him to take. he flinches when he realizes you’ve walked up to him, his lip curling and hands winding back like he was getting ready to slap it away. 
“just take the hand, dude.”
a second passes before his bony hand slaps onto yours, digging uncomfortably into your skin as you help him get back on his feet.
“you good?”
he glares off at his brothers, eyes pricked with tears no doubt from getting hit square in the face. his pale skin was irritated and splotched red, his only exposed eye beginning to swell.
“yeah, it just stings,” he trudges ahead of you and off the field, sitting on a nearby bench.
“i have to say, i wasn’t expecting you to catch the ball with your face!” garroth laughs at the younger boy.
“shut up, garroth!”
aphmau catches up, stopping in front of zane with a petrified look on her face.
“oh my gosh, zane, i am so so so so sorry!” she rambles, hands coming up to cover her mouth.
“you did that on purpose.”
“no, i swear i didn’t! i’m just not good at aiming!”
“you could’ve told me that before you fully sent the ball hurling towards my head.”
“i’m so sorry. are you okay?”
“i’m fine.”
“yeah, his other eye got messed up from—“ vylad starts, before getting cut off by a warning look from zane.
you happen to glance over at garroth, who has a deep frown on his face. he notices your stare, and immediately his expression shifts back to his normal passiveness.
“well, this definitely calls for a break. i’m glad you at least tried it out, zane.”
zane rolls his eyes, only to make a small groaning sound and hold his head.
“whatever.”
you look around, noticing a bathroom building that had a vending machine outside of it. without saying anything you jog off towards it, leaving behind your group. reaching in your pocket, you snag some cash you had taken with you, sliding it into the machine and pressing down on the water button.
quickly, you grab the water and jog back, seeing that the moms have returned from their run.
“oh, he’ll be fine, he has two brothers, and zane’s been through much worse.”
you wave to your mom, before holding the water bottle out near the boy’s face.
“here. it’ll help with the swelling.”
“well, aren’t you just a sweetheart! you should take notes from her, zuzu.” zianna gushes, coming up to you and cupping one of your cheeks adorably in her hand.
zane sighs, holding the water bottle up to the side of his face, letting the cold condensation soothe the sensitive skin.
“thanks,” he grumbles and you nod in response, waving off the gesture like it was nothing.
“oh-em-gee, this is totes deja vu! remember that time that aphmau did this exact same thing to zane when the kids were playing dodgeball in the old neighborhood?”
“that’s totes right!”
“yes, i remember! they were all the cutest little kids back then!”
you glance back at aphmau and the three boys, who look just as confused as you feel. as you lock eyes with aphmau, something clicks, and you remember the childhood photograph on her wall.
slowly, your jaw drops, eyes widening in realization.
“huh?” she questions, looking concerned by your sudden expression.
“the picture!”
she blinks, before her head whips back to garroth and then to the other two.
���the picture!”
“what picture? we just met you guys?” vylad looks between you two and the women giggling behind you, amused by the whole situation. “what are you talking about, mom?”
she breaks out into more giggles.
“oh, don’t tell me you don’t remember each other?”
sylvanna catches her breath from her own amusement, placing a hand on her chest.
“we lived in the same neighborhood when you guys were all so tiny. you played with each other every week!”
“oh, girl. i was so devastated when the two of you moved away!” zianna frowns at the memory.
the five of you teenagers gawk at the information, jaws hanging open in shock.
“you know, i actually do vaguely remember. aphmau wore that red dress all the time,” garroth glances at you. “and i remember playing t-ball with you.”
you furrow your eyebrows, trying to recall the memory and getting a few glimpses of your childhood.
“oh yeah…”
“well, they were pretty little, so it’s no wonder they don’t really remember,” your mom laughs, glancing at you. “you were such a worried and cautious kid even when you were little. you cried more when the boys or aphmau did when they got hurt, trying to make sure they were okay.”
“yes, i remember that! she’d come running back to the house asking for bandaids that weren’t even for her all the time, the little medic. seems like that hasn’t changed.”
“this is so cute! i had no idea you guys didn’t remember each other! we should have dinner over at my place tonight so we can all catch up!” zianna squeals, grabbing onto sylvanna and your mom in excitement. 
“that sounds wonderful! we’ll head home to wash up and i’ll bring a dish or something.”
“same here, we’ll be there!” your mom smiles.
“ooh, please bring those quesadillas, sylvanna,” zianna butchers the pronunciation, before turning to your mom. “and you should totes bring that yummy guac you used to make!”
“it’s que-sa-di-yas, zianna,” sylvanna playfully rolls her eyes.
“it’s delicious to me!” she claps her hands with a laugh.
“alright, we’ll see you later this evening then.”
“bye, girlfriends! let’s go boys, you’ve got some cleaning to do.”
you turn and wave to your—freshly reunited?—childhood friends, who seem equally as bewildered.
“uh, i guess we’ll talk later,” garroth waves back, robotically turning to walk with his energetic mother as the cogs still turn in his brain.
“see ya…?”
you and aphmau trail behind your moms, who are excitedly planning to drive together to the ro’meave home later.
“this is crazy. we became friends with them again without even knowing.”
“yeah…small world i guess.”
“do i have to wear a dress?”
“yes, it’s a small dinner party and we need to look presentable,” your mom answers, turning to make sure your dad also kept his word on dressing decently. “plus, the ro’meaves are super rich…”
“what was that?”
“nothing! besides, it’s not like it’s a super fancy dress, you look so cute! do you have the guac bowl?”
“yes…”
she nods, ushering you and your dad out of the house and speed walking down the sidewalk. you both deadpan at each other, your dad scratching through his beard with a sigh.
“alright, if it makes your mom happy.”
you shrug, “and me.”
“that’s good enough for me, i guess.”
aphmau’s house smells good, the scent of chicken and beef quesadillas wafting through the air.
“oh mija, aphmau and one of her little friends from school are out back picking some hot peppers for the salsa, why don’t you go join them!” sylvanna points towards the back door, before leaning towards you. “and make sure there’s no flirting or funny business.”
you nod with a knowing smile, holding back a laugh at her insistent stare.
“okay, i’ll give you an update when i return, captain.”
you slip out of the sliding glass doors as the adults start to talk, looking around before spotting a garden to your left. you step off the deck, following a pretty mosaic stone trail to the intricate, fenced-in veggies and flowers. after stepping into the gate, you admire all the terra-cotta and talavera pots, as well as a lime and orange tree in the mix. everything seemed almost overgrown, but so carefully groomed and placed that you could tell it was well cared for. 
“hey guys,” you greet, spotting aphmau in a cute red dress and headband, as well as that white-haired kid from your first day. “oh, and hey travis! good to see you again.”
his eyes widen, before he shoots a brace-filled smile your way, earnestly greeting you with a call of your name.
“good to see you too! so you’re going to vylad’s house, huh? that’s crazy.”
“i know, right? none of us remembered each other at all.”
“yeah, super weird,” aphmau shakes her head analyzing the jalapeños she picked in her hand.
“i think it’s super cool! you have a little connection to someone you didn’t even know was there.”
you smile at him. “yeah, that’s a nice way of putting it.”
“yeah, garroth is almost unrecognizable from the childhood photos,” aphmau trails. 
“stop drooling,” travis deadpans at the girl, laughing as she flusteredly panics in response.
“i’m not!”
“you totally were. but hey, i don’t blame you! lots of girls have a crush on him.”
“no kidding,” you monotone, an image of ivy’s twisted face popping into your mind.
“i do not have a crush on him,” she defends, though the red on her cheeks betray her.
“uh-huh, sure,” travis drawls out sarcastically, turning to laugh with you when aphmau hisses at him to stop again.
he puts his hands up in defense, backing up when he’s threatened with a jalapeño to the face. the two of you let your giggles fiddle out, before travis seemingly remembered something important, his lips flattening into a serious line.
“hey, i heard you two were with gene and his gang a while ago… is that true?”
“oh, i mean we did “meet them”, i guess. but we didn’t really talk to them.”
“oh, okay. good. i was kinda worried.”
“where did you hear that?” aphmau stutters, dusting off her clothes as she stands back up, seemingly satisfied with her selection of peppers.
“dante told me. he said gene mentioned it or something. he didn’t say anything bad, but he was talking about you two,” he reaches up to fiddle with a strand of his hair by his ear, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “i just… know they’re not the best influences, so i wanted to check on you guys. dante really looks up to gene, but i don’t think he knows the kind of stuff he gets up to.”
“thanks, travis. that’s really nice of you.”
he nervously laughs, shrugging his shoulders.
“i mean yeah. i haven’t gotten to know you that well but aphmau’s my not-alone-buddy, so if you guys are good friends i’d like to look out for you, too.”
your chest feels warm as you smile at him. 
“thanks. i’ll look out for you, too.”
“oh! that reminds me travis, how’s theatre club?”
“ooh, you joined?”
“yeah, i did!” travis stutters, eyes lighting up. “it’s going really great. hey, you know the girl with blue hair that hit me in the face on the first day?”
“katelyn?”
“uh, yeah! she stops by and visits the club sometimes…” his cheeks grow to a warm shade of red.
“sounds like you have a crush, travis.”
“wha—no, i mean—!” he sputters, scratching the back of his neck. “i mean she is really cute… but she has a boyfriend already.”
you blink. katelyn has a boyfriend?
“really? who?”
“his name is jeffory. goldwyn is his last name, i think. he’s a really good-looking senior so i don’t even have a chance.” he sighs.
you hum in pity and understanding for the boy, recalling the tall, smiley, and handsome upperclassman who had stopped by volleyball practice a few times. he had pretty eyes and brown hair, and he seemed super friendly and charming from the few times you said hello. now that you think about it, he did really only hang around katelyn when he did come by the gym.
“so i’m not even gonna try anything. she is really pretty, though.”
“maybe one day,” you halfheartedly encourage with a shrug of your shoulders. “uh… not wishing on her to break up with him or anything—“
travis laughs, face brightening again from the small dejected pout that had begun to form on his lips.
“hey!” sylvanna calls from the porch, her projected voice startling the three of you. “what’s taking you three so long?! we have to get going soon! dios mío…”
“coming, mom!” aphmau calls giving you two a look before shuffling out of the garden with her peppers in hand. “guess we lost track of time.”
“yeah, better not make your mom mad,” travis mutters, quickly falling behind the girl before leaning over to whisper to you. “she kinda scares me.”
you laugh at him, stepping through the sliding doors into the house. dad quickly scopes out the boy, making himself known by very firmly grasping his shoulder and reaching out to shake his hand. you watch as travis’s soul nearly leaves his body, face paling at the gruff-looking man in front of him.
“how’re you doin’ kid? what’s your name?”
“uh—hello sir,” travis stutters, quickly shaking his hand. “it’s travis.”
your dad pauses, squinting down at him uncertainly.
“what’s your last name?”
“va—valkrum… sir?”
“huh. you terry’s boy?”
“you know my dad?”
“yeah. we were old buddies a while back when you were just about to here in height,” dad gestures to his knees with his hand. “i thought you looked familiar.”
you glance over at sylvanna and mom, who are staring at each other with shocked looks on their faces.
“well, nice to meet you, son. you need a ride home?”
travis freezes with his mouth open, trying to muster up words.
“if it’s not out of your way, that would be nice.”
he nods, before leaving the poor boy be—as he was almost quaking in place. when your dad is out of earshot he leans over to you again, face still pale.
“your dad scares me more.”
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©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own
tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @thenyxsky
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thunderbunny24 · 5 months ago
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Second Chance at Love
These first couple of parts aren't going to have a ton of Matthew in them as I am a big proponent of creating backstory for my completely created characters.
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Part 2
            You closed the door to your daughter’s bedroom and let out a small sigh.  Once you got home from dance, you cooked some cheesy chicken and rice while Violet got a shower then started on her homework.  After dinner you both sat on the couch to watch a few episodes of Bluey before it was time to put Violet to bed.  You read the next chapter in her Junie B Jones book to her, kissed her forehead then turned off her light.  You walked to your office knowing you still had a few hours of work before you could call it a night.  You wiggled the mouse connected to your laptop and went to your email account and started a new email to your manager.
To: Mark Rosenberg <[email protected]> From: Stacy Davis <[email protected]> Subject: Untitled Ari Aster Project & Song Submissions from Jess Cates
Good evening Mark!
I have read the majority of Mr. Aster’s script.  It is amazing, but the character he has suggested for me…I don’t feel like I can do it justice.  I’m no Florence Pugh!  Please let him know I am grateful for the consideration, but that at this time I have to pass.
Please set up a writing session for next week with Jess.  I texted him the other day and gave him a heads up.  I love this batch of songs he sent over and there are two that, with some alterations, would fit this new album perfectly.  Please work with his people to purchase the rights to In Your Love and Too Late with the option to add/edit/remove no more than 50% of the current lyrics and for myself to get a secondary writing credit.  (Our normal deal with his peeps.)  I need these songs bought before the writing session next week so we can work together on the edits.  He can pick where we do the session, as long as it’s during the school day hours.
On a non-work related note, please tell your wife that I made her potato soup recipe last week and Violet love it!  Thank her for the recipe for me.
Stacy
            You scan over your email and correct any misspellings you saw then hit send.  You look through your emails, seeing if there is anything you can easily delete or reply to.
            After a bit you open a new tab and stare at the Google search bar trying to decide if you were going to type his name in or not.  On the drive home, Violet told you that she thought he was cute.  You agreed, but told her that he was probably married.  You weren’t sure about that fact, but assumed it to be true.  But since you left the gas station, the sweetness of his smile and the warmth of his hug had stuck with you.  You typed his name in the search bar but hesitated hitting enter.  You felt like a silly teenager searching your latest celebrity crush.  You shook your head and closed the open tab.  “I’m being ridiculous.” You thought to yourself as you unlocked your phone and looked at the picture of him and Violet with their big smiles, chuckling to yourself.  You put your phone down on your desk, opened Google back up, typed Matthew Lillard and hit enter before you could talk yourself out of it.
            The first thing you saw were three pictures of him smiling with the same glasses on he wore today.  You started scanning the page.  Age – 54, 12 years older than yourself.  Height – 6’4”.  You figured he was over 6 foot tall since when you two hugged, his chin rested on the top of your head.  He was over a foot taller than you, but everyone felt taller than you, so that was nothing new.  You scrolled down the page a bit and saw an about section.  Spouse showed Heather Helm (m 2000-2014).  Guess he is divorced.  You shrugged and quietly said, “Join the club.”  Children showed Addison Grace, Liam and Macey Lillard.
            You decided to be nosey and clicked on Heather’s name.  The first link was to a news story that started with “Three people were killed and three others injured in car crash”.  You gasped then clicked the link.  You skimmed through the article with it stating the wife and two of the children, ages 6 and 9, of Matthew Lillard died in a traffic accident on the corner of Villa Street and Los Robles Avenue in Pasadena.  You looked for the date of the article and saw it was May 16th, 2014.  You thought to yourself, “Almost 10 years ago.  Damn.”
            You went back to Matthew’s page and clicked on each child’s name to see who passed.  When you clicked on Addison’s name it showed she was still alive and that she was 22 years old.  That meant she was 12 when her mom and siblings died.  The thought brought a tear to your eye.
            You closed your laptop, grabbed your phone and headed to your bedroom.  There was no way you were going to be able to make yourself read any more scripts tonight.
            After changing into a tank top and taking your makeup off, you hunted down Scream 1 on HBO Max and started it playing at a low volume as you Googled Matthew Lillard again on your phone.  You started scrolling through his Twitter and Instagram along with reading different news articles that were not about the car wreck until your sleep meds started to kick in.  Once you felt one of your blinks taking way longer than it should, you put your phone down, set the sleep timer on your TV for 30 minutes then put your CPAP mask on and laid down to sleep right as you heard Matthew’s voice come from the TV saying “I’ll be right back”.
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radioromantic-moved · 2 years ago
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i'll take care of you (it's rotten work) (yeah it sure fucking is)
this is so unbearably sweet by my usual standards for this ship...but also i'm kind of proud of it i'm afraid. if you'd rather read on google docs here is a link :) otherwise cytrex fluff (or what passes for fluff when it's them) under the cut
"Cyril, I am dying.”
“You’re not dying,” Cyril says patiently. “You just have a cold, and your immune system is still getting used to being off the station for the first time so it feels worse than it is. You’re going to be perfectly fine in four days or so.”
“If it’s not that bad, why are you sitting on the corner of the bed wearing a mask?”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎Trexel‏‏‎ ‎asks, in a checkmate sort of tone. 
Cyril clears their throat self consciously. “I mean, just because it’s not that bad doesn’t mean I want to catch it.”
“Quisling,” mutters‏‏‎ ‎Trexel, before launching into a series of raspy coughs. “I’m writing you out of my will,” he wheezes.
“I was in your will?” asks Cyril, who is, embarrassingly, a little charmed by this.
“Maybe. Whatever.” He rolls over and smushes his face into his pillow. “It just figures that everyone is too preoccupied to say their final goodbyes,” he bemoans, muffled. “Sure, David, your first friend in your entire slimy little clone life is lying here on his deathbed but you’d rather suck face with your idiot grand duke than offer even a smidge of solidarity to me in this--this--ha-chmph!”
“Don’t sneeze into your pillow, you’ll get snot on it,” Cyril scolds him. “Look, you know I’m not Bathin’s biggest fan either, but David clearly adores him and the feeling is mutual as far as I can tell, so just let them have this. Also, we are living on his planet, so try to play nice.”
Trexel‏‏‎ ‎rolls over blearily. “Say something mean about Bathin,” he urges. “I miss when you would do that. It’s my dying wish, Cyril.”
Cyril sighs deeply. “Trexel,‏‏‎ ‎if you somehow take a drastic turn for the worse before the end of today, I will make up a new insult to call Bathin and get it put on your tombstone.”
“Promise?” he asks with shining eyes and a little congested snuffle for extra effect.
“Cross my heart.”
“Thank you, Cyril,”‏‏‎ ‎Trexel‏‏‎ ‎says sweetly. “I lo--um, I l-like you. Very much.”
“I like you very much too, Trex,” Cyril says, and stars and planets they do in fact actually mean it. “I’m gonna make you some soup.”
“You can’t cook,”‏‏‎ ‎Trexel‏‏‎ ‎says suspiciously.
“First of all, rude, and second of all soup is barely cooking, it’s just throwing a bunch of things in a big pot. I can put things in a big pot!”
“I do like a big pot,” he ponders aloud. “Don’t burn anything down.”
Cyril giggles, which turns into a laugh bordering on the hysterical. “You’re one to talk, buddy. Also, so much of this place is water I don’t think I could burn anything down if I tried. But I will be careful. Get some sleep.”
Trexel‏‏‎ ‎nestles under the blankets, looking rather peaceful, especially for him. Cyril’s heart does a thing that might at one time have been cause for panic, but has now become rather routine. 
And as just about anyone could tell you, Cyril Andromedus is a sucker for a routine.
--
The soup is salt, noodles, carrots, seaweed and meat. The seaweed is perhaps an unconventional addition, but‏‏‎ ‎Galactonium‏‏‎ ‎has bred this stuff for flavor, and there are over 50 unique‏‏‎ ‎Galactonian‏‏‎ ‎strains of edible seaweed (and just as many strains of…another kind). Even Cyril hasn’t memorized all of their names yet. Maybe next time they have a free day.
They bring the soup back into the bedroom and set it on‏‏‎ ‎Trexel’s nightstand. Their patient is still asleep. They go to wake him, but hesitate for a minute. Unconsciousness is perhaps the only state in which‏‏‎ ‎Trexel‏‏‎ ‎Geistman‏‏‎ ‎could be described as being calm, and it’s a pleasant novelty.
“A surprise party for me?” he murmurs. “Y’shouldn’t have. Eat the whole cake myself, don’t mind if I do…”
Upon seeing him beginning to drool on the pillow, Cyril snaps themself out of it and gently shakes him awake. “Soup delivery,” they announce.
Trexel‏‏‎ ‎emits an incomprehensible noise and slowly sits up.
“No cake?”  
“Even you would not want to eat a cake I baked.”
“You underestimate the amount of things I’ll eat,”‏‏‎ ‎Trexel‏‏‎ ‎counters. 
They hand him the bowl of soup, a spoon, and a tray (because they really do not want to wash these sheets until they absolutely have to). Trexel‏‏‎ ‎takes a small sip. “Hm. That’s…you know what, that’s okay,” he declares after a minute of deliberation. “Sorry for underestimating you.”
“Trexel‏‏‎ ‎Geistman‏‏‎ ‎apologizing for something?” Cyril gasps. “Never thought I’d see the day!”
“Shut up, I apologize all the time!” he protests. “Just only when I’m wrong, and that doesn’t happen very often, so there.” He coughs.
“I’m honored to have witnessed it.”
“You should be.” He slurps his soup aggressively.
Cyril leaves while he’s preoccupied to read for a while. They have about ten minutes before they hear a plaintive “Cyril…” coming from the bedroom.
Cyril closes the book and goes to check on‏‏‎ ‎Trexel. The soup bowl is discarded, empty, on his nightstand. 
“Do you need more soup?” they ask. “I didn’t make a lot of it, it was kind of a small pot, but if you want I guess I can--”
“No, it’s fine,” he interrupts them. “I’m full on soup for now. I just. Um.”
He avoids eye contact with them, sneezes and swipes at his nose.
“Trex, what is it? Are you actually dying?”
He mumbles something under his breath, too quiet for them to hear.
“C’mon,‏‏‎ ‎Trexel, I’ve heard worse from you on a regular basis, I’m sure of it.”
Trexel‏‏‎ ‎looks hesitant, sneezes again, then forces out, “I would just. Like it. If you stayed here for a little while. And kept me company or something.”
Cyril blinks, caught off guard, then smiles softly. “Okay. I can do that.”
They sit on the bed, still near the edge, but risk scooting in a little closer to where‏‏‎ ‎Trexel is bundled under the covers. “Do you just want me to sit here?”
“You can talk if you want,” he says. “I can’t contribute much. My throat hurts. I don’t like it. I’m used to talking much more than this. S’difficult.”
“I can imagine. Oh my goodness, if you want me to talk, let me tell you about the‏‏‎ ‎Galactonium‏‏‎ ‎library! There are these jade designs on the walls and a fountain and more real paper books than I’ve ever seen in my life, and books written on all sorts of things OTHER than paper, I didn’t even know you could DO that, and Bathin told me I could volunteer there! And at the museums, too, if I wanted, and--”
Trexel‏‏‎ ‎makes a growly noise.
“--and, you know, that’s fine or whatever but I would have found a way to volunteer there even if he didn’t give me permission. He doesn’t control me or anything. Anyway, there were even books in other languages, and oh my VOIDS there’s even an OLD EARTH ARCHIVE like, IN THE LIBRARY, not off in some corner or anything, there’s real actual books and letters and magazines from Earth! I checked out so much stuff and I can’t wait to learn about the cultural context of all of it. When you’re feeling better, we can go together.”
“That sounds awful,” mumbles‏‏‎ ‎Trexel‏‏‎ ‎sleepily. “But I’ll do it for you.”
They rub the back of his head. “How selfless of you. You’ve come a long way.”
“I guess I have,”‏‏‎ ‎Trexel‏‏‎ ‎says softly, in a voice that sounds like maybe he’s realizing it for the first time. “I guess I have.”
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six40seven · 2 years ago
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The date is September 14th. The time is 4:22 pm.
I was awake at my usual time, 6:35. Today the house was empty. Niki must have left early for work. I think she said something about it but the it might just be an older memory that my thinking dredged up. That sometimes happens. I got ready for school. The clothes on my bed were dirty but thats okay, I’ll do laundry over the weekend. We were out of chai so i made myself a pice of toast and ate it while i walked to the bus.
It was cold outside and I have to tell Niki to take me shopping to get new pants. My ankles get cold when i walk. The sun was beautiful and i paused halfway down our drive to take a picture of the way it shone on our shed. Its pretty run down since we only keep a back up generator and other things like that in there. For the winter days when we are stranded up here. But i think the picture i took was nice.
Even though the sun was out, the sky showed the signs of upcoming rain. I like the rain, the smell is nice. I finished my toast while standing at the bus stop and got on the bus at 7:04. The bus driver smiled at me but i dont remember her name. Or if she was the same bus driver as usual. I nodded back and quickly went to sit at my costumary seat. Its near the middle fo the bus and one of the only seats that doesnt have a second one next to it. I like to sit and look out the window as we drive.
Halfway through the pass it began to rain. Not hard, just little flecks.
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It was pretty.
By the time i was in town the rain was full out. I was not excited to walk in the rain but its less then a block at the closes stop. I got of the bus and watched the rain before stepping out into it. My backpack was instantly soaked and i regretted not taking it off and holding it. I dont remember taking a rain coat but i had one so i was at least semi dry by the time i got to the school.
It was warm inside, it took my mind off the seeping cold and my soaking wet mask. I was late. I was late to my first period class. I sped walked to there as quickly as possible, my wet sneakers squeaking on the tile floors. The teacher had already marked me absent by the time i got there and I couldn’t do much besides sit idiotically in front of the entire class, soaked.
I slowly dried off the next few periods until free period. Karl was at the library today. Its always nice to see Karl. Karl is the local librarian and hes one of the only people i remember. He let me spread out all my wet textbooks and papers on one of the tables and didnt complain when i dripped water on the floor. I dont think he would care that much to be honest but its still nice of him.
He seemed pretty distracted but that was okay with me because when i checked my classes i realized i was missing a few assignments that had not been missing last night when I briefly checked on them. So i was working on them with my wet clothes and papers spread all around me, trying to get them done. I dont like having low grades. Its just something that i cant have, nto that niki has ever said anything about them. She’s really chill like that.
Lunch was much of the same except… i forgot a lunch. this is something that i cant forget, i set a timer on my phone to remind myself. Karl shared a slice of his ham sandwich, the same thing he eats ever day. Cut diagonally in a perfectly straight line. Usually i dont like eating around others. But Karl has never seen the before me, and he doesn’t struck me as the type to judge for something like that anyway.
After lunch i went to English. The teacher smiled at me today. I nodded back, my mood slightly uplifted since the morning. The room was still quickly filled with students. I took my customary place at the back of the class. Nothing interesting in my photos today. Besides the ones i took this morning and a picture of the math homework. I have to remember to do my math homework.
School ended its usual time 2:45. i took the bus home instead of going to the station. There was one unread message on my phone, from Niki telling me left overs were in the fridge. I dont remeber what the leftovers are but its nice that she reminded me. Outside it was dreary and wet, but at least it had stopped raining a couple of hours ago. The sidewalks collected puddles and i tried my best to avoid the deeper ones, since my sneakers were still damp from this morning.
The bus was a little late, i had arrived at 2:58 and it arrived ten minutes later. The woman driving smiled at me, she was not the same woman. I still dont remember her though. The bus ride was uneventful and when i got home i was quick to walk back to the house. I changed my wetter clothing, realizing i didnt have any shoes to change into and then grabbed an extra under layer before taking my phone and a snack from the kitchen and existing from the back of the house. I was careful to lock the door behind me, and setting an alarm so that i wasnt out after the sun set and then began my hike.
I like hiking. Ive always liked nature. Even when i was a kid i would play until the stars were out and then i would come home covered in a mud and.. Niki would make me a take a bath and then she would comb out my hair and braid it so it wouldn’t get tangled overnight. Now i try to avoid getting mud where it shouldn’t be. Anyway you didnt come here to hear me reminisce.
While walking on the path, the main path, i met a furry friend. She was sitting on the fence post just watching me as i walked towards the deeper part of the forest. I was aiming on getting to the stream, which is about 3 miles in. before turning and heading back. the fog caused by rain is thicker near the less forested areas by my house so its a little unnerving if you dont know where your going. But i know where im going.
The cat was kind enough to jump down from her perch and let me give her a scratch behind the ears. I wish Niki would let me adopt. But she already has a hard enough time taking care of two almost fully grown people, she would have a hard time taking care of a pet. besides i dont want to detract her from her case.
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This land back here is not owned by us but the other people in town take care of the main paths as well. After awhile the paths become deer trails and just small places between the trees. Thats where im aiming to go. One of which leads to a small river that leads to the lake. I think it does at least. The cat followed me for awhile but i think she got bored after i stopped petting her every few minutes.
I walked for about another hour before i reached the stream. It was getting colder and colder as the sun began to sink further into the clouds. I still have enough time to get home and i am taking a break to snack and take pictures. Now we’re caught up. The bars are limited out here, i dont think i even have any connection. But ill post it and it will upload when im back home.
Here’s my favorite pictures so far. I might update this entry later. I loved talking to you yesterday, maybe when i get home i will answer some questions over dinner.
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let-them-read-fics · 2 years ago
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Away With You
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Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: When a snowstorm of record-breaking proportion rolls into town and causes a city wide shut-in, you and Rosé take it easy and enjoy your time together.
Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff
Word Count: ~ 1,136
Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.
A/N: Hi everyone! I found this in my drafts a while ago and thought I’d share it with you all. Hope you enjoy it :) Stay safe and take care of yourselves!
💖 Happy Reading 🌹
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◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚
The wind, frigid and biting, howls as it whips through the sprawling branches of the neighborhood trees. They sway, sometimes eerily, in their perfect alignments next to the sidewalk. 
More particles of snow and sleet surge down to Earth, accompanying every haunting gust and only further worsening the conditions that the blizzard is causing.
Strangely enough, it's at times like this that you find yourself wondering if hot cocoa producers will ever run out of product. 
Surely, you think to yourself, as you stand in front of the counter and stir in the contents of yet another batch. It's the fourth one you've made today, and it's not even past 2 PM yet.
Your gaze falls down to the mixture, watching intently as the rich, velvety powder swirls with the milk you added before. It lends more of its color with every whirl, and soon it's smooth mocha, warm and tempting. Steam billows from the mug, and you sigh as the chocolatey scent makes its way to your nose. 
In the living room, Rosé has the television set to your local news station as she strums out the notes of a potential chorus to her latest creation. Her fingertips dance across the strings, trying out different combinations and slides as she pleases. 
Beneath her, the piano bench supports her movements, making only a faint creak when she sets the guitar in her lap and focuses her attention on the piano keys instead. She's been like this for a while now: switching between the two instruments that she loves so much as she tries to finally put her finger on the elusive tune she's been seeking.
The weather has given her an excuse to stay home and reconnect with what she's been missing most: making music, and you. She can't think of anyone else she'd rather be squirreled away with.
"... multiple inches are expected to accumulate throughout the day, and by nightfall some areas could have up to three feet of snow in total." 
She lifts her head at the mention of the forecast, listening closely to the weatherman. 
"We strongly advise that you stay home and only go out when it's absolutely necessary. Multiple roadways are already covered, and they're expected to get even more dangerous as the day progresses. Power outages are likely as well, so get prepared, folks, and stay safe. Bundle up, grab something warm, and settle in."
Outside, snowflakes fall in heavy droves, turning the atmosphere into a whiteout. They whip past the bay windows of the living room -- which Rosé is now using as a portal to peek into the frigid world out there -- unrelenting as more and more of them make their way to the ground. They've already coated everything in sight with at least six inches, and they don't seem to show any signs of slowing down. 
The Sun is quickly being clouded over; only a few glimmers of its warm rays remain now, and they kiss the land goodbye while they still can. 
In fact, one delicate embrace between the two is strong enough to catch Rosé's eye; a rather small snowflake rides the swirling air current just outside the window, arching up into the air as it perfectly catches a golden shimmer of the Sun. It dances and skates for a few more seconds before ultimately fluttering against the pane and coming to rest in the corner of the sill. 
Rosie's lips briefly tug up in the corners at that, and she pauses to think. Maybe she can use that for a song...
Your slipper-clad feet shuffle forward as you finally make your way out of the kitchen and towards the living room, slowly but surely. Your tongue is slightly stuck out as you concentrate on keeping all the contents of the mugs inside of them, and you simultaneously ask yourself why the hell you filled them up so high. 
A quick glance at Rosie earns you the knowledge that she's scribbling away in her notebook again, and you smile warmly at the mere thought of it. For months, she's been dying to have some time to really unwind and recharge like this; writing always comes the easiest for her when she's relaxed and able to experiment without fear of judgement. She's always said that you're the only person she trusts enough to hear her rough drafts, and you cherish that. She really is something special. 
"Hi, baby," you greet, feeling the tension leave your body as you bring the mugs to the coffee table and set them on a pair of matching coasters. Rosie got them on tour back in Australia, and they've been her favorite to use ever since. 
"There's my girl," she beams, happiness radiating from her. A growing smile is evident in her voice as she quickly finishes in her notebook and sets her guitar in its case. 
The material of her sweater looks especially soft from where you are; you can practically see the fluffiness interwoven into each of the threads. 
"I was starting to miss you, you know," she plays, standing up to meet you by the sofa. Her eyes travel across your face, silently admiring you. 
"I could tell," you tilt your head to the side, "...your playing turned sad." 
"What can I say?" Her shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug. "My muse wasn't around. I got lonely." 
Her muse, huh? Hearing that never gets old.
You run your fingers through her hair, feeling the loose curls tickle your palm as they slide by. They're silky, and the movement releases the smell of her vanilla shampoo into the air.
She melts into your touch, visibly relaxing. Her eyes close as you move to stroke her cheek, reveling in the feeling of your warmth against her. She'd be content with staying here, just like this, forever. 
"Rosie, baby, I don't understand you," you whisper, disbelief evident in your tone. You take a step closer, draping your free arm over her shoulder. 
"You get even more beautiful by the day. I don't see how that's physically possible." 
She smiles, her eyes still closed. She's amused. 
"You've already won my heart, Y/N," she quips, peeking at you, "You don't have to make me fall in love again." 
You shake your head, still smiling. "I mean it, babe. You're so beautiful." 
Her eyes open now, and her hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt, splaying across your back. She pulls you closer with a short tug, giving you no time to prepare before her lips are on yours. 
They whisper words of affection against your own in between sweet kisses, reminding you of how much she adores you. 
As you kiss her back and touch her in all the ways she loves most, she wonders how she got so lucky. 
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reids-rendering-reality · 4 years ago
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Guys My Age
Summary: Y/N is the newest addition to the BAU team and Spencer appears to have taken a special liking towards her. The only problem is, he thinks he’s too old for her. However, that’s all about to change when they share a hotel room.
(A/N: I’m such a sucker for the hotel room trope so I combined it with two of my other favourite ideas: Spencer being older than the reader and catching her doing yoga)
Type: fluff + a sexual innuendo or two
Warnings: dirty thoughts, insecurity about age, age gap, anxiety, yoga?
Word Count: 2.1K
Spencer Reid’s POV
I pulled the handle of my satchel over my shoulder as I sighed. It was a very long day in a small rural town somewhere deep in Alabama. Everyone else had gone back to their hotel room, besides Hotch and I. There was just something about this case I couldn’t get out of my mind. The feeling of being so close to the final piece of the puzzle, as if it were on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t grip it. Yet I had to let it go for the night and get some rest. The much needed REM sleep could give me an entirely new perspective on this problem to me tomorrow. At least that’s what I hoped.
On the walk to the hotel room I was getting increasingly nervous, the more rooms I passed in the hallway. This small hotel did not have enough rooms to accommodate the whole team separately. They only had four rooms for the seven of us. JJ and Emily had immediately paired up, just like Rossi and Morgan. And Hotch being the team leader took the single room. Leaving me with our newest and youngest member, Y/N.
It’s not like I didn’t like her. That’s not what it was at all. Just, she made me a little bit nervous. She was so beautiful that sometimes I couldn’t get out any words around her. And that says a lot because I always have something to say. But as cheesy as it sounds, in some moments there is not a single fact that I can recall. 
But the elephant in the room demands to be heard. She is younger than I am. And that by a lot. By exactly ten years and three months. That appears to be a lot. I don’t really know why, but that bothers me. We are both adults, but because of social conventions at our age, I feel as though it is inappropriate. Yet if I were 60 and she were 50 or I was 80 and she was 70, no one would even blink at the gap. Yet because we are young it matters. I feel sad when I think about it because I like her a lot. And when we talk I don’t notice the age gap. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that it wasn’t even there at all.
What surprised me as I was having these thoughts and neared the room was the fact that I actually considered asking her out. Since Maeve I have not been on a single date. And who said she would even be interested in anything beyond a casual friendship or even colleagueship with me? That’s not even considering the amount of courage it would require for me to tell her. But it’s not like that would be a fruitful endeavour.
And that was the last thought I had before I reached the door to room 179. A prime number. Prime numbers would be my lucky numbers if there were such a thing.
As I rummaged around my pockets and satchel for the key card I noticed the sound of music coming through the door.
“Gotta thank him he’s the reason
That I’ll find what I’m looking for.”
I heard a woman sing over the sound of an electric guitar. I still hadn’t found my key card.
“Guys my age don't know how to treat me
Don't know how to treat me.”
My movements stopped when my brain registered the lyrics. Guys my age…?
“Guys my age don't know how to touch me
Don't know how to love me good.”
My breath hitched and I gulped, key card in hand. Did she mean that? Could it be possible that she would be interested in someone ten years older than her? The feeling of hope was beginning to form in my brain, scenarios of what could be clouding my vision. But they were quickly pushed aside by a dark storm of self-doubt. Because most people don’t listen to lyrics as closely. The lyrics to a song don’t mean anything to them. Did they mean anything to her?
I realised I had been standing in front of the door for way too long and gathered all my confidence to go inside. But nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. After closing the door behind me and tucking away the key card into my bag I turned around for the first time.
There she was. In the middle of the room in front of the two twin beds on a yoga mat. Her front leg was bent as she stretched her back. She was only dressed in skin tight pants and a matching bra that complimented the way her body was contorted. The soft light from the night lamp next to one of the beds made her skin glisten just noticeably as if it were glowing. I could feel my eyes widen as I my brain finally added up the pieces of what I was seeing.
“Oh, hi Spence!” she said gleefully turning her head towards mine, “I was feeling a little tense after sitting in that conference room all day. I hope you don’t mind.”
I didn’t even bother to attempt to talk, I could feel how dry my throat was and how my lips would not listen to any command I would’ve given it. So I just shook my head and pulled my eyes away from her as she moved her upper body towards the floor, holding herself up by her ellbows. I walked towards the beds in her general direction trying not to notice how gorgeous her ass looked now that her body was turned away from me. That I even had that thought surprised me and caused a blush to rise to my cheeks. I was thankful that she couldn’t see my face in that moment as I loosened up my tie. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, my attention drifted back to the song.
“Don't know how to love me good
So I'm never going back”
There was nothing in that moment that could keep me sane. My wildest dreams could have not come up with this scenario. It felt utterly unreal.
As the song ended I saw her change positions again from my peripheral vision.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said while turning the music down.
I noticed panic begin to fill my brain. She wanted to have a conversation.
“I um- it’s been kind of a long day,” I said and cleared my throat, while deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to turn around towards her.
“Have you been at the station the whole time? You must be exhausted,” she responded and continued when I didn’t answer, “I thought you could show me that show you’ve been gushing about.”
How was this real life? My brain began to lose control of my executive functions as my body turned around to face her. She was now sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, her hands wrapped around her feet as she looked up at me. The low-cut top she was wearing gave me a perfect sight into the curves of her-
I dared not continue that line of thought, already flustered enough as it is.
“Really? You’d be interested in watching that?” I said and blinked.
Her lips spread into a smile, twinkling her eyes, “Yeah, of course. The way you described it makes me really curious.”
“We could watch an episode or two before going to sleep, if you want.”
I just had to take this chance. Even if I could only begin to have a friendship with her, I wanted to be close to her because for some odd reason, I couldn’t bear to admire her from afar.
So not long after, I was setting up the odd hotel room tv to watch the show. It took me the entirety of her taking a shower so that I was only standing back up when she was walking out of the small bathroom in a white bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. She smiled up at me as she walked past me, her hand brushing my arm so casually that I questioned whether it actually happened. 
I hesitated again before sitting down on the bed. Was she going to get dressed in front of me? Because no matter how much my amygdala wanted me to see that, my frontal cortex wasn’t going to allow it. I forced myself to look through my satchel in an attempt to find a distraction as I waited for her next move. But luckily, she didn’t tempt my brain too much into overdrive.
I felt as if there was a higher power not willing to spare me for the night when she came out of the bathroom a second time, now something someone might call dressed. She was in a loose light coloured satin pyjama set that showed off her legs perfectly. And as if that were not enough to torture me for the night, she joined me on my twin bed with her bag of chips.
“I hope that’s okay with you, then we can share snacks,” she said so innocently that I almost believed it. But I could still hear the song ringing in my ears and I noticed her eyes take a short glance down at my lips as she said it. I was almost convinced that I wasn’t imagining things.
What really sealed the deal was that I noticed her scoot a tiny bit closer to me every once in a while. At first I could only feel the warmth she radiated, but after about 30 minutes I felt the bare skin of her arm against mine. My breath quickened, which I was sure she had noticed.
I knew the episode off by heart. Which was to my advantage because then my brain could run in a speed that I could barely follow. I tried my hardest to calm down a little bit, which was hard when I could feel the movement of her body as a whole-hearted laugh filled her throat.
“Y/N,” I whispered with all my courage. It was so low that I almost thought she wouldn’t hear it, but she turned her head towards me her eyes following a few seconds after.
Her eyes met mine and it was like I could feel my neurons firing electrical signals throughout my entire body. And just like that, in one swift movement she had grabbed my face by the back of my head and pulled me into her lips.
That was the first time that night that my muscles began to relax as I eased into the sensation of her soft lips moving against mine. It was as though I was beginning to lose myself in the kiss, all insecurities about her feelings towards me or my inexperience gone.
When she ultimately pulled away and rested her forehead against mine, we were both panting gently. My whole body felt warm with the feeling of her breath on my skin and her hands still in my hair. I didn’t dare open my eyes, still afraid that I would wake up from this idyllical dream.
We both didn’t know what to say as we pulled away further and looked at each other. I wanted to say something, to let her know how I felt, but once again, my brain did not follow my commands.
“Did you know when you kiss someone for the first time it causes your dopamine levels to increase for a short period of time? It also makes your heart rate and the oxygen supply to your brain to raise,” I heard my voice say in something between a whisper and my normal talking voice.
“For the first time, huh?” she grinned a little at me.
I reached for her hand and gently took it in mine. I moved her palm over my shirt to the centre of my chest. I could feel my heart race through her hands and I know she could feel it too. She looked up into my eyes again with a look on her face that told me all I needed to know.
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distracteddegenerate · 4 years ago
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Carnation
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Yuta x Fem!reader
Warnings: period sex, lots of blood mentions, yandere undertones for Yuuta, TW.Dubcon if you squint I just want to be safe lol, unprotected sex, smut
Got super carried away with this one which is why it’s so long lol. I decided to combine the asks since I have got a lot for Yuta. Second anon if you’re uncomfortable with this fic which is understandable lol just shoot me another ask and I can do something else for you.
You lay curled in your bed, the sheets and pillows a mess around you, a fluffy hot water bottle cradled tightly to your front. The side of your body you laid on was beginning to ache from pressure, and you felt flush from heat, but you dared not move. You dreaded the intensifying of the stabbing pains your own body was wretchedly subjecting you to. Of course today would be the heaviest of your period, the day you had scheduled for a study session with Yuta. He was due to come over in about half an hour, and your pains were yet to ease up at all, despite the painkillers you had recently downed. You could cancel, yet, this was the first ever study session you had set up with your handsome friend, and you were loath to cancel it over something that would clear itself up eventually.
You closed your eyes, and pulled the hot water bottle you gripped like a lifeline closer to the source of your suffering.
~~~
*knock knock*
Fuuuuck. Was it that time already? You groggily sat up, releasing your water bottle and in replacement lightly pressing your hand against the throbbing pain that was starting to surge more strongly in the pit of your belly. You gently placed your feet on the ground off the side of your bed, and rose onto the balls of them just as delicately. You began your gloomy shuffle towards the entrance of your room, fixing your ruffled hair into place.
You pulled the door open on yourself slowly, croaking as Yuta’s tired but docile face materialised into view. 
“Good evening, (Name)-chan.” Yuta had his hands in his pockets and wore a kindly smile, the only thing betraying his pleasant demeanour being those familiar dark circles dusking the underside of his eyes. Dreary though they appeared, you could swear you saw a specular shimmer dance across his irises when he registered your form.
“Ah good evening to you too, Yuta! Come in and make yourself at home, I have some stuff set up on the coffee table.” You tried your best to look as perfectly in humour as you could, to not draw any attention to your current pain stricken condition. Must have been good enough, as Yuta had nodded in response and was now making his way over to nestle himself onto one of the pillows you had placed next to your make-shift study station. 
You yourself was headed to the kitchenette, about to ask what Yuta wanted to drink when a sharp stab erupted from your core. You threw your hand onto a countertop and visibly winced, when you noticed Yuta’s widened eyes had been following you. 
“(Name)! Are you okay?!” Yuta’s expression was alarmed, prepared to pounce up from his seating.
“Uh- I er uh- tripped over! Nothing to worry about!” You were blushing slightly, but righted yourself regardless and tried to stand as straight as you could. Yuta seemed slightly confused, and whilst he opened his mouth to speak you interrupted him with a casual “So what would you like to drink?” 
“Er.. I’m fine actually, I had something before I left home... actually I think you should come sit down, er, carefully.” He still looked a little concerned. You nodded your head and made your way over to his side. Settling yourself down, you could feel more pain pulsating within you, a low rumble threatening another great stab like you had experienced just. You drew your legs to your chest in an attempt to alleviate it slightly, and picked up your copy of “a comprehensive guide to the relation of curses and the law”; holding it open in front of you.
You could feel Yuta’s gaze still trained on you.
~~~
“So, although the police would have to intervene if someone was hurt or killed in the incident, sorcerers still have the right to- er - (Name)?”
Crap. You were too focused on the waves of torture oscillating in your guts to keep your attention on Yuta explaining the info that went over your head in class to you again. And he noticed. You looked up at him softly, and offered a subdued “sorry.” You didn’t really have energy to maintain your act of being fine anymore. His eyes looked concerned. You turned your head to the floor and fiddled with your hands.
“Hey, (Name).” You heard him shift and alter the positioning of his legs. “Is it that time of the month?”
What?! Who asks that like this?! 
You threw your head back up to look at him, your face red and mouth agape. He threw his hands up defensively.
“Sorry, sorry!” He hurriedly turned his gaze into the distance and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just.. I have a little sister, so I’m used to this sort of thing, or at least I know a bit more about it than other guys.” He looked back to you. “It seems like the pains at least are distracting you from your studies, if you need painkillers or something.. I can go get them for you.”
“I er...I already tried that… doesn’t work out that well for me.” Was your meek, barely audible reply. You played with the tassel of the pillow you were sat on. Yuta looked pained on your behalf.
“Y’know… I read online somewhere that there’s always something you can try out failing all else.” He caught your gaze, and held it intently. 
It must be too good to be true, how would Yuta know some hidden method that you (as someone who experienced periods) didn’t know about for dealing with the pains?! Your eager look betrayed itself when a switch flicked in your head and your expression turned into one of astonishment. There’s no way he’s gonna suggest…
“Org*sms.”
You’d known Yuta for awhile now, but you had no idea just how… artless he was. Where was his tact?! Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. You felt like your face was about to explode.
Looking at him though, he was practically unfazed! As if you were going about some matter-of-a-fact order of business. What was this situation!
“I-is.. that a joke Yuta?” Your hands were curling into tight balls. 
“Of course not, (Name). You look like you’re in so much pain. I just want to help alleviate it.”
What the hell did he mean by that? Like you will just hop up right now and go jerk yourself in the bathroom as casually as using the toilet.. Or.. could he have meant..
You felt Yuta’s hand settle on your thigh, as he leant down further towards you. “I can help you out (Name)-chan.”
You couldn’t deny, you’d always found Yuta handsome, but for things to move along this quickly… and of all times! Surely his level of straight-forwardness defied all social conventions, and yet, it was working. The feel of his hand resting on you, his hungry stare, the way he loomed over you, chest rising and falling intently. You could feel a different kind of ache emanating from your lower parts. 
His hand drifted further up your body, coming to stop just below your belly button. “I want to help you… (Name)-chan.” You looked into his dark eyes. They were intense, hungry. You could swear he was salivating. 
“B-but Yuta.. I-I’m.. You know! Isn’t that.. Gross? For you?” He shot you a sheepish grin, hiding his eyes in an evasive fashion. His hand travelled downwards once more, snaking up the inside of your loose-fitting shorts and looping his fingers over the sides of your panties. He toyed with them, rolling the cloth over your skin and lightly pulling at them. “I don’t think any part of you is gross, (Name)-chan.” His eyes flicked open again, drawing you back into his intensity. “I think every part of you is beautiful, even.” You could sense his earnestness, and it made your cheeks burn. You went to throw your hands up to them, but he quickly caught them in his. “So, what’s your answer?” He planted a kiss in your palm. “Do you want my help? (Name)-chan.” 
Fuck.. the way he looked at you. Those ferocious, hooded eyes. Those calloused hands, usually wrapped around a katana, wrapped around yours right now. The burning you felt between your legs. God yes. God, you wanted it.
The alleviation of pain (and studying) was an afterthought.
~~~
Yuta had returned back to your living space with a towel from the bathroom. What? you didn’t want to get the floor messy. You could see an erection straining tightly against his black pants. 
Fuck, you were really gonna do this. He set it down flat on the floor, and invited you to come situate yourself on it.
~~~
After removing his shirt (It was white, after all), Yuta knelt himself down in front of you. He had a certain glint in his eyes, almost conflicting the harmless smile that he also wore, as if he wasn’t about to blissfully pound your bloody c*nt into oblivion. He undid the front buckle of his pants, a bulge emerging, the explicitness of his bare dick concealed by gray underwear. He began palming at the protuberance. You eyed the display curiously, when you had a sudden realisation.
“Y-Yuta, w-what about… protection?” you asked, uneasily. 
“Hm? (Name)-chan, you’re on your period, remember? You won’t get pregnant.”
“B-but..”
He cut you off. “I don’t have anything. Trust me.”
You nodded and grunted in acknowledgement. Yuta was always a trustworthy figure for you. Your strong, reliable friend who you could always depend on. He always took care of you, even during skirmishes with curses, arriving at your side before things even had the chance to get particularly hairy.
You watch Yuta as he tilts his keeling body forward, his hands landing on your ankles before travelling upwards, spreading your legs open in the process. You feel yourself blushing once again, tossing your head to the side. You can feel the front of your damp p*nties being touched, jumping in slight surprise at the abrupt action before Yuta starts rubbing at your cl*t through the fabric. He notices your breathing falter.
“Do you like it, (Name)-chan? Do you like how it feels when I rub you there?”
You mumble a small “yes.”
He’s applying more pressure to his administrations now. “Do you want me to take your p*nties off? So I can touch you properly?”
You answer yes again, this time more hastily. 
With that, he curls his fingers over the sides of your p*nties, dragging your legs into the air as he twists his body appropriately in order to shimmy the restrictive fabric off of you. He casts them to the side, before pulling your trembling limbs back into their previous position. Once he settled them back down, he kept his hands on your thighs as he drank in the glory of your exposed c*nt quivering before him, the string of your tampon peaking out in a taunting manner.
You heard him cooing at you quietly. “Beautiful.”
You cringed, wondering if he’d still be thinking that when he’s stained with blood. Even so, you couldn’t help but melt under the feeling of his fingertips tracing circles into your inner thighs. The way you felt a thumb flick over your n*ked sex.
“Is your stomach still hurting you?” The sudden question snapped you out of your stupor.
Truth be told, you’d almost completely forgotten about your pains you were so caught up in the moment, but something held you back from saying so. As if Yuta would stop touching you if you let him know the “reason” for the two of you doing this was almost completely resolved. And, you were relishing in the tenderness of his comforting too much for it to stop.
“Y-Yes..”
Yuta bent further over you, his head looming over your core. He sunk down, his face leaning into the space of your skin where your tummy and pelvis met. He planted a light kiss there.
“Well, I’m gonna make you feel better.”
His grip on your thighs tightened as his head lifted, his presence shadowing over you once again as he held himself higher. Your heart pounded. He leaned further on your left thigh and removed his hand from the other, as you felt fingers poking at your aching heat again.
Could you feel… pulling?
You felt a horrible, obscene slick escape you suddenly when Yuta yanked out your tampon. He pinched it limply in fingers, observing it slightly before placing it on the towel you shared.
“Yuta?!” You whelped. It was ironic. The two of you were sharing an intimate moment with each other, almost completely exposed. But this? It felt somewhat... invasive.
You could sense Yuta shrugging. “It needed to come out.” Before you even had a chance to respond, you could feel him caressing your folds. He was circling his thumb over them, the peak of the eclipse swiping over your cl*t. “Don’t worry, (Name)-chan you look beautiful.”
You looked to him, but he didn’t return the gaze. His stare was boring into your most private parts, hungrily eating up the view. The calloused hand still wrapped around your leg was gripping on tightly, as you felt Yuta dip a finger into your sopping c*nt.
“Fuck.. it’s so.. wet.”
Well, that was a given you supposed. But you knew a lot of what was down there was also probably your usual feminine slick, with the way he was making you ache. He continued pumping his finger in and out, the motion becoming deeper and rougher, him gaining confidence in what you were willing to take in. You could feel your muscles strain around it.
“That’s three.”
“Wait, w-what?!”
“Three fingers, (Name)-chan. You’re drenched down here.” You felt him remove his digits, Spreading them out across your lips. You then felt him draw a line across your inner thighs that intersected your p*ssy in the middle. Was he… playing in it? You decided not to question, you were too caught up in a wanton haze, hips bucking upwards, begging for his touch to return to your most sensitive parts.
“Y-yuta..”
He looked at you and smiled sincerely. “-just need to make sure you’re nice and loose for me, (Name)-chan.” Before you could react, plunging fingers speared your weeping c*nt, pumping with violent pace. You yelped and crumpled in on yourself when you felt his fingers curl against your velvety walls, yielding against the pressure. You squirmed underneath him even more when he began spreading them, parting your insides. You hummed, laying your hand over the top of his head, entwining yourself in the strands of his hair.
He shifted into your touch. “God, love this. So fucking beautiful.”
He peered at you from beneath those dark lashes. “You think you’re ready?”
“Hm?”
“For my cock.”
At that, you nodded, releasing your grasp on his hair and trailing your hand down his chest as he straightened himself, looping his fingers over the sides of his boxers, staining it with blood. He tugged them down, his painfully erect dick springing out into open air. You found yourself surprised at the length. Yet, He was focused on you. Pointing at your top half he asked you, “Can you take all of this off?”
You nodded and complied hurriedly.
When you were done Yuta was quick, grabbing your knees to hold you in place, leaning over to plant yet another doting kiss on your body, This time in the space between your bare breasts. You felt him begin to push into you. He managed the entirety of his length, before pulling himself almost all the way out again. You noticed how he looked down, admiring the sheen of your blood now coating his member. He quickly snapped his hips back into you again, and began assuming a steady pace of rutting. Your legs found themselves wrapping around him, your ankles cross sectioning across his taught upper back. You wanted to tell him it felt good, but the most you could manage was a weak moan.
That seemed to set something off within him. He lunged over you, enveloping your entire body with his own. He planted one hand on the towel beneath you, firmly beside your head. The other found itself groping a t*t, clawing over it to pinch your hard nipple, surrounding the ar*ola with petals of red. His pace was raw and piercing, but the slight discomfort you felt was laced with a more intense pleasure.
You heard him groan. “-god.. You feel so good. Fucking you like this.. It’s just so.. primal.” He was lightly scraping his nails against you, tracing trails of scarlet down your body. You understood what he meant by that perfectly. The way he was looking down at you, almost slavering at the lips at your vulnerable form, like some wild animal lost in it’s lust.
The feeling of it, the sounds of it. It was also so expl*cit. Yet so gratifying. 
You lost yourself, allowing Yuta to abuse your lower half as he pleased, even matching your hips to his punishing motions. The l*wd squelching noises as he fucked into your excessive wetness, the way he played with your sensitive nipple at the same time, your entire being yearning into his ministrations. 
“I-I’ve always dreamt of this, (Name)-chan” You were too lost in a fucked out haze to really respond, humming lightly as you stroked the arm gripping your breast. His pace got even quicker then, rougher. His form that was already entirely draped over yours weighed down on you with even more pressure, the slap of his bucking hips against your buttox resounding loudly. It’s all too much, your legs weak when you cream his c*ck, a wave of release gushing out of you as your heat throbs wildly.
Your limbs go weak as you reel from the org*sm, your walls spasming around Yuta as he continued his bucking.
Yuta’s gaze rests on your dazed expression, his dark eyes settling over you. “You needed my c*ck didn't you?” He moves the hand that was on your bre*st to caress over your face.  “Desperately. I know you did.” 
You felt Yuta’s pace get rougher, losing it’s steady tempo as he chases closer to his climax. He thrusts into you heartily a final time before his release spills into you, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm out slowly and tenderly. He remains inside for sometime after, rubbing your hips with his thumb as he admires the mixture of c*m and blood streaming out of your hole and cascading down his dick. 
“Beautiful.”
He looks to your face now, smiling gently. 
“So, do you feel better now, (Name)?”
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pascalpanic · 3 years ago
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Miller Morales Mechanic Shop (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)
Part One of Miller Morales Mechanic Shop
Summary: Something is wrong with your car. What, exactly? You have no clue. So you bring it in to some professionals- who also have a toddler running around the shop.
W/C: 2.3k
Warnings: language, Frankie is a dad, brief mention of divorce and trauma bc poor Frankie, there is a child heavily involved in this so if you don’t like kids this isn’t for you :)
A/N: WELCOME TO PART ONE EVERYONE! This is such a cute AU and I’m BEYOND excited to start sharing it with you all! I don’t know how many parts this will be or anything but I can’t wait to take it and run with it.
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Marisol Morales behaves for very few people. One of those is Ben Miller. Unfortunately, she has decided to break her own rules today.
Frankie loves summer. He loves his little girl playing outside in her baby pool, taking her for walks around the neighborhood with their three-legged dog, all of the fun parts. The hard part is when the nanny goes on a vacation and Mari has to come to work with him.
Benny and Frankie, ever since the chaos that was the Lorea mission, run a small mechanic shop together. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop isn’t necessarily the busiest place in town, but they make enough to get by and have some disposable income too. Mari loves to hang around the shop with her daddy and uncle. She’s there more than Frankie would like, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing in the world. When Frankie and Jules split and Frankie won full custody, he’d hoped a nanny would take care of most everything when Mari is home all day in summer. Sadly, he was in for a rude awakening when no Mary Poppins showed up on his doorstep.
It’s normally not too bad; Benny hung the moon in Mari’s eyes. If she won’t do something for her daddy, which is still somewhat rare, she’ll always do it for her Uncle Benny. That makes the day run much smoother. Mari has a whole host of quiet-time activities and toys to play with, and the men generally trade off periods of either working on the cars or being with the little girl.
Her favorite activities at the shop include drawing on the concrete with thick sticks of chalk and playing with her toy helicopters and planes. Benny insists tanks are cooler, but Mari prefers flying her Polly Pockets in the chopper, running through the garage and making flight noises. She’s a smart little thing; for her age, she’s picked up big words and can make sentences out of three words, which is quite a stretch for a baby just over two years of age. She calls for Benny and Daddy and knows the names of his tools: wench, scu-dwive, and her favorite, win-seeled wipe fwuid. She loves to babble at customers while they get their oil changed.
-
Being shit with cars is no fun. It only increases the anxiety when some light flashes on your dashboard. The lights can mean so many things that you find it ridiculous; “check engine”? Check it for what? To save yourself the anxiety, you find your nearest mechanic and pay them to deal with it.
Today, as you pull over into a gas station, you check your phone and find that the nearest shop is a place you haven’t heard of. It must be new. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop, 0.6 miles away. The name implies something more local and homegrown. You’re more than willing to support a place like that, so you start up the engine, pray you don’t explode, and make your way over to the shop.
It’s nearby, like the map indicated. The outside is a quaint little place, tucked in a strip mall next to a coffee shop, a dentist, and an insurance agency. The three car bays are empty, and knowing next to nothing about how these shops work, you pull inside and park your car, letting it run as you wait for an employee. The bell dinged to let them know you were here, so you stay patient and listen idly to the hum of the talk radio show from your car’s speakers.
After a minute or two pass, you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right place to be. Maybe you were supposed to go in the front or something. Concluding that you probably aren’t where you’re supposed to be, you turn off the car and get out only to be greeted by the sound of buzzing lips.
You can hear a baby’s voice, mimicking some kind of vehicle’s sound, and for a second you’re worried this place must have you hearing things. Then, from a swinging door to the front comes a little girl, running and babbling to herself about her toy helicopter.
She has a head full of dark brown curls, tied back into two puffs with pink scrunchies, and matching pink leggings and a t-shirt far too big for her, the back emblazoned with the shop’s logo. She’s barefoot, tiny feet slapping against the cold cement.
“I told you I had to piss, Fish!” A man’s voice shouts from one end of the garage.
“No you didn’t, dipshit!” Another man shouts back. Being caught in the middle of their argument is quite comical, if you’re being honest with yourself. “She’s fucking two! You can’t leave her alone like that, man!”
The first voice is matched to a person as a tall blonde man emerges from the customer service side of the shop. “Marisol Morales, come here,” he insists sternly as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “Come on, you’re gonna trip.” Ben is embroidered on a patch over his heart.
She pouts at him before stumbling forward and continuing to run, stopping as she sees you and looking up in confusion. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout as her eyes scan your face, as if she’s trying to remember if she knows who you are. “Hi,” she finally concedes as you bend to her level.
“Hi there,” you smile and hold out a hand. “What’s your name?” You pick her up, holding her on your hip so that she doesn’t trip, like Ben so desperately feared.
The second, unknown voice shouts for the little girl again before boots clunk on concrete up to you, rounding your car and stopping. This must be the girl’s father, you realize, as you rake your eyes up his body. He wears the same navy blue jumpsuit as the other man, though it’s unsnapped over his chest, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. The patch on his chest reads Catfish. He wears a ball cap and warm brown curls peek out from under it. He has scruff and a hooked nose that perfectly matches the one on the little girl. “I Mari,” she introduces herself proudly.
“Hey, leave her alone, Mar,” the man shakes his head as he hoists her up to hold her on his hip. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says with an embarrassed smile, showing a dimple beneath the scruff on his chin.
“No, it’s not a problem,” you laugh then set her down and tell the little girl your name. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” You chuckle as she looks at you. She blushes and buries her face in the man’s chest, giggling shyly.
He looks down at the little girl then up at you again. “Well, uh, hi. I’m Frankie, and you’ve met Mari already.”
“Your daughter?” you ask as you look at the pudgy little girl, who now stares at you in awe.
Frankie nods and adjusts his ball cap, pushing his hair back with it. “Yep. Our nanny is on vacation, so she gets to hang out around here,” he chuckles and kisses her head, setting her down. “Go see Benny, yeah?” He asks her. She happily waddles off towards the blonde man, who gives you a wave then heads into the back. “What brings you in?”
“Would you laugh if I told you I don’t really know?” You admit with a shy smile. “My check engine light came on while I was on the highway. I don’t know the first thing about cars, so I was hoping you’d figure out what that meant.”
“Nah, no laughing here,” he nods and gives you a genuine smile before looking over at your car. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll have you pop the hood for me and I’ll give it a look?” He asks.
“That would be great. Thank you,” you tell him, the desperation for his help in your voice. Now that you get the chance to really look at him, he’s quite attractive. His eyes are deep set and a beautiful brown, and they crinkle when he smiles. Facial expressions only accentuate the lines in his face, but he’s certainly not old. His eyes still hold his youth.
“No problem.” He leads you to the car and you pop the hood open before getting out. “Could I take your keys?” he asks you. “Just so I can turn it on and off and all that good stuff.”
“Yeah, of course,” you nod frantically and hand them over to him. “I’ll… be in the waiting room?”
“That’s how we usually do it,” he chuckles as he takes the keys from you. “Just shout for Benny if Mari annoys you again.”
That makes you frown. “She’s not annoying at all. She’s adorable,” you smile as you look over your shoulder and see her and the blonde man playing together.
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he laughs and points his wrench at you as he walks to the hood of the car.
Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh as you head back to the waiting room. You walk in and Mari perks up, turning to look at you. “Hi! Playing helicopter,” she tells you in her stunted speech as she holds up the toy.
“You sure are,” you nod and sit next to her. “Can I play?” You ask, looking up at Benny, silently asking him the question too.
He nods and Mari squeals happily. “Friend!” She shrieks and hands you another helicopter. “Go pew pew, okay?” She drags them across the toy mat like they’re cars, and you follow suit.
“Okay,” you laugh. Looking up at the blonde man, you extend a smile his way and introduce yourself. He’s busy repairing a Barbie dollhouse with a screwdriver.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, Benny, whatever you wanna call me.”
Driving your helicopter around the ground, following Mari’s lead, you chuckle. “No preference?”
“Fish calls me Benny.”
“Fish?” You ask and tip your head.
“Frankie, whatever. We’re buddies from the service. His code name was Catfish,” the man explains with a shrug, testing the hinges of the plastic door.
That makes you smile down at Frankie’s daughter. “Really, just buddies? Could’ve sworn you’d be brothers,” you tease the blonde, blue-eyed man. “Does Frankie know how to do his daughter’s hair?” You ask and fiddle with her two pigtails.
“Yes, he does,” Frankie insists as he walks out to the front, cleaning a wrench. “But just barely.”
You look up at him, embarrassed. “Her pigtails just look a little messy. Then again, she was running around like crazy,” you laugh and watch her rush over to Frankie, insisting he pick her up.
Bending down to grab her, Frankie groans at the ache in his joints. “She was. I could use some pointers, if you’ve got ‘em.”
“Of course,” you nod and stand too, brushing the dust from the concrete floor off on your pants. “What’s the verdict on the car?” You ask.
Frankie turned, watching as Benny walks out to the shop, but he turns back to face you. “Oh, right. The engine was misfiring, and unburned fuel was being put into the exhaust system, and that damaged the catalytic converter.”
You nod as you listen to him, really staring at his face more than anything. He’s just so damn pretty, you note as you admire the curve of his nose, his slightly sunken and dark eyes. His lips look beautiful and soft, even though they seem a little chapped. When he stops talking, it takes you a second to process it. “I don’t know what that means,” you admit with a shy smile. “I told you. I don’t know shit about cars,” you laugh, playing it off like you were lost when you were really lost in his eyes.
He shakes his head and laughs, bouncing Mari on his hip. “Your car is gonna need some work. Couple hours,” he shrugs. “If Benny and I get to working on it together, an hour and a half, maybe?” He admits.
“Yeah, that’s great. I can watch Mari,” you offer.
Frankie would never be this trusting normally. You’re a straight-up stranger, but your demeanor is good enough for him. Besides, you’re right here. He can check on the two of you every so often, and Mari seems to love you. “That would be great,” he smiles. “You really don’t have to.”
“No, I have nothing better to do,” you chuckle and look at the little girl. “You wanna play?”
Mari nods excitedly and Frankie sets her down. She rushes back to her toy mat and you watch her go. “Thank you, again, for fixing all this.”
“Just doing my job,” he nods. This time, it’s his turn to admire you. He stares at your face, examining the curves and angles that make you up. Your eyes are kind and warm as they follow the little girl, and he can see that he’s making a good choice here.
When you sit down, Mari comes and sits cross-legged across from you. “What are we gonna play?” You ask her, looking at her wide variety of toys. Her pile includes dinosaurs, Matchbox cars, lots of toy helicopters and planes, Barbie dolls, and a plastic tea set.
“Tea party!” She says and hands you a tiny plastic cup and a felt muffin.
“Oh my goodness,” you gasp in a fake accent. “How delightful!”
Frankie peeks over his shoulder at the two of you. He could really get used to that sight.
-
taglist:
@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs
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songbirdsingingthings · 4 years ago
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Warmth - Levi Ackerman x Reader
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(can we take a minute to appreciate this gif omfg he’s too pretty)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama
AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.4K
To put it lightly, working as a scout in the winter absolutely blows. The wind would bluster relentlessly, causing chills to go down your spine, it would be snowing more often than not, and the winter uniforms that were parceled out to everyone didn’t do enough to block the cold temperatures. But, of course, since you were a captain you needed to block out all of the shivers that claimed your body, clench your teeth to stop their chattering, and stand strong in front of the cadets that were at your mercy for the day.
“Attention!” You shouted, causing all of the scouts in front of you to step into a salute, standing completely still like statues. You sigh before you start to give out instructions for their workout, which did include some heavy conditioning, but was shorter than normal. Honestly though, you would’ve preferred to be in their place. While they were going to be enduring hell for about an hour and a half, the movement from their bodies would generate heat, the thing you were currently lacking. You tried to nestle yourself further into the fur trimmed trench coat you were wearing and pulled up the burgundy scarf, grasping for any form of warmth that you could get. 
“You look like an idiot.” You turned around quickly, instantly recognizing the speaker's voice, and shot him an unamused expression. Bundled up and sat atop his horse, your boyfriend, Levi, looked down at you with indifference in his eyes.
“I can accept that insult if my looking like this keeps me warm,” you huff, turning back around to look at the cadets. Some of them even began to shed their layers opting to simply wear their white button ups. You dig your mittened hands further into your coat pockets, feeling even colder just from looking at them. You hear a crunch of boots behind you, signaling that Levi hopped off his horse, and came to stand beside you.
“Shouldn’t have done that Levi, now you’re gonna have to have me help you back up.” You quip, earning a glare from the captain. He simply scoffs and elbows you, hard, in the side. “Ouch, what the hell.” you grumble.
“How much longer do you have to be out here,” he asks, his eyes on the tired cadets in front of him. You begrudgingly take out your hand to check your pocket watch, but end up reveling in the fact that they only had about ten more minutes left. You tell Levi about the time and he nods, making no effort to move.
“Are you waiting for me?” You inquire, a small smile spreading across your face. The raven-haired captain says nothing but stays put. Your smile widens into a grin and you step closer to him, your hips almost touching. “Thank you.” Levi hums in response and the two of you settle into a comfortable silence as you watch the scouts finish up. When it’s finally time, you make every cadet put their coats back on (you’d be damned if they caught a cold due to negligence) and ushered them back into the main building to grab some dinner before they could retire to the shower houses and then to their barracks. As they begin to wander off, Levi swiftly grabs onto your arm and leads you towards the captains’ quarters. “Hey I haven’t eaten yet!” You complain, tugging your body back towards the direction of the dining hall.
“I’ll get some delivered to your quarters, you need to warm yourself up.” He says, a definitive tone to his voice.
“I’m perfectly fine, it’ll only take a few minutes,” you protest, still hell-bent on getting food for yourself. You were a captain, for heaven’s sake, you were surely capable of getting food for yourself. Levi pauses to grab both of your arms, somewhat forcing you to look at him.
“You need to warm up. You get cold way too easily and then I have to hear an earful about it later. So get you and your red ass nose into your personal quarters and take a damn bath.” Levi states. You eventually give in under his ‘don’t test me’ gaze and grumble all the way back to the captains’ quarters with him by your side. The two of you part ways when you enter and you follow his directions and immediately fill up a bath with the warmest water you could get. While you hated the cold weather with a burning passion, the feeling of your shivering body being enveloped by warm bath water will never cease to be one of your favorite feelings. You close your eyes and lean back, soaking up the warmth when you hear a door open. You panic for a second and try to cover yourself with a towel in fear that a higher up, or worse, a cadet has managed to make their way into your quarters.
“I-I’m not decent! Please wait outside!” You say, sounding a little strangled, but the door opens anyways. Thankfully it reveals Levi.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” He says, closing the door with his foot. You give him a glare, but your expression instantly lightens when you see a tray of food in his hands. He takes you in and lets a small chuckle escape his mouth. “Warmer?” He asks, setting down the tray on the little side table next to you. You sit up a bit in the bath and snatch the spoon from his hands, sinking it into the soup and bringing it to your mouth. You hum at the taste - for some reason, today they had splurged on the scout regiment and supplied them with beef and barley soup instead of the usual bean soup.
“Warmer.” you confirm, digging back into the soup and dipping some of your bread into it. “Good.” Levi says, standing up to press a kiss onto your head and exiting the bathroom, giving you a bit more time to yourself. When you were done with both your dinner and your bath, you drained the tub and gingerly stepped out of it, wrapping a towel snug around your body. You step out to see Levi in your bed, donned in his sleepwear, and a book in his hands. You smile as you make your way over to the wardrobe stationed in the corner of your room and take out the warmest pair of sleepwear you could find - a wool long sleeve that you used to wear before you became a scout, and a pair of long pants that just covered your ankles. You pad your way over to your side of the bed and climb in, quickly covering yourself in the blankets. Levi spares you a glance, gives a small smile, and returns his gaze to his book; not before he lifts his arm closest to you, giving you the signal that you could come close to him. You take the opportunity immediately and glom onto his side. For some weird reason, Levi’s bodily temperature always seemed to run hot while yours was consistently colder, making him just that more wantable to you. “Y’know sometimes I think you just use me as a personal heater and nothing else.” He remarks, setting his book down on the side table and blowing out the candle next to him.
“Yeah, and what if I do.” You mumble back to him, your eyes drooping closed, exhaustion seemingly taking over your body. You feel his body shift as he slides down to rest his head on the pillow and pulls you closer to him. His chin finds purchase on top of your head, his other arm wrapping around your waist.
“Then fine.” He says, making you laugh a bit.
“You’d be fine if I was just using you for your warmth?” You quip back, snuggling your head further into the crick of his neck. He hums and rubs circles into your hip with his thumb.
“Anything to get you to stop complaining. It’s annoying when you do that.” He says, his own eyes closing now. The two of you didn’t say anything else, it wasn’t really necessary to. You understood everything Levi said and picked out its meanings through his own special language that you’d grown accustomed to throughout the years of dating him. His responses and remarks that sounded condescending in speech could easily be interpreted into a much simpler meaning. ‘I love you and I don’t want you to be cold.’
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anotherspnfanfic · 4 years ago
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Overloaded
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Pairing: Dr Dean x nurse reader
Word count: 1584
Warnings: minor injury
Squares filled: Hospital AU for @spndeanbingo and Doctor AU for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me a Story Bingo
Summary: Working too many hours and being short handed leads to a breaking point.
~~~
Gabe pushed the wheelchair off the elevator into the ED. She bit her lip to muffle her whimper as the small bump jostled her foot. “Sorry,” Gabe murmured as he wheeled her towards the nurses station. “Hey, Charlie, you got an open room? She needs an x-ray.”
Charlie turned to see who Gabe was referring to. “Oh, what happened?” she asked, seeing the pain on her friend’s face.
Before either of them could explain, Dean came out of an exam room and spotted her. “My nurses are not supposed to be in wheelchairs. Especially not my favorite one,” he said as he walked over and squatted down to her level. He noticed her puffy eyes as he carefully pulled up the pant leg on her elevated foot. He echoed Charlie’s question, “What happened, sweetheart?”
She rubbed a hand across her forehead as she glanced at the floor. “I missed a step, or maybe two. I landed wrong on my ankle. I'm pretty sure it’s broken. It hurts a lot.”
Dean raised an eyebrow as he stood and moved to take over Gabe’s position. “Okay, let's get you checked out.”
“Exam 4 is open,” Charlie said.
Dean turned to Gabe as he pushed her toward the room. “Can you go grab the portable x-ray and 25 mcg fentanyl, please?”
Once they were in the exam room, Dean offered his hand to help her stand on her good leg. He leaned over and lifted her carefully and then set her on the bed. She tried not to whine as the movement sent pain shooting up her leg. “Damn it. This sucks,” she said.
He situated the bed so she was laid nearly flat and got her foot elevated on a couple pillows. “1-10—how’s the pain?” Dean asked, as he tossed a blanket over her.
“Uhh, about a 6.”
Dean nodded. “Gabe should be back with the pain meds in a minute. So, you missed a step?” he asked as he started to check her vitals.
“Yeah, I was playing with my phone and I missed it,” she explained. He gave her a skeptical look.
Before he could say anything more, Gabe appeared and handed Dean a syringe. “I figured you’d want that first. I’ll be right back with the x-ray.”
Dean finished recording her temp and BP, then pushed the sleeve of her scrubs up her shoulder and cleaned a spot with an alcohol wipe. “Little pinch,” he warned. “Babe, you can maneuver all the stairs in this building backwards, hands full, and with your eyes closed. You sure you just missed it?” he asked.
She broke eye contact as she contemplated her answer carefully, knowing he could tell when she was lying. “No,” she mumbled. “I might have been a little dizzy, too.”
He reached his index finger under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “Any guesses why you were dizzy?”
She pulled away enough to drop her gaze back down to the bed and shrugged almost imperceptibly. “Low blood sugar, maybe? Probably,” she mumbled the last word. She fiddled with the corner of the blanket almost nervously, not wanting to see the disappointment and concern on his face.
He hummed. “So you didn’t miss a step. You fainted?”
She sighed in defeat. “Yeah.”
“Have you eaten anything since the granola bar I brought you,” he paused to check his watch, “five hours ago?”
She shook her head and pulled the barely-touched bar from her pocket. “I got busy and then I forgot it was there.”
“What about water? Have you been drinking?” he probed. She simply shook her head, still refusing to make eye contact. “So you’re probably dehydrated, too.”
She shrugged.
He sighed. “You really have got to take better care of yourself. I love how much you care for everyone around you, but you have to come first once in a while. Otherwise, you won’t be able to help anyone.”
“I just get so busy that I forget sometimes.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “We are going to work on that.”
Before she could add anything, Gabe pushed the x-ray into the room, and within a few minutes, they had all the images they needed of her ankle.
“Definitely very broken,” Dean stated. “Gabe, can you run a CBC and BMP and then start an IV of normal saline while I go page Sammy, please?”
“You got it, boss.”
“Wait!” she yelled before he could disappear out the door. “Why are you paging Sam?”
He turned back to face her. “Did you hit your head, too? You broke your ankle; we need an ortho consult. That would be Sam.”
She let out a frustrated groan as Dean left.
Gabe patted her shoulder before wrapping the tourniquet around her arm. “Maybe try not falling down the stairs next time.”
She rolled her eyes and looked away from what he was doing. “Oh, my god. Why didn’t I think of that?!”
He finished the blood draw and got the IV set up. Next, he carefully fluffed the pillows under her foot to ensure it was elevated enough. “You are all set. Do you need anything else right now?”
“Not unless you have a time machine.”
“A day do-over? Let’s see.” Gabe snapped his fingers and then spun around. “Damn. It was worth a shot.”
She tried to contain her smile as she rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks for trying, I guess.”
Ten minutes later, she was dozing off when Dean returned with Sam close behind. Dean ran a comforting hand over her head to ensure she was awake.
Sam took a few minutes to read over the x-rays. He turned away from the light board and walked over to the foot of the bed. “Unstable bimalleolar fracture,” he stated as he inspected her ankle. “You just bought yourself surgery and a vacation.”
“No way,” she blurted. “I can’t. We’re already short staffed.”
Sam shrugged. “It’s not exactly optional. Good news, though: the swelling isn’t too bad yet, I happen to be free in 45 minutes, and you haven’t eaten anything in hours. So we can do this today.”
Charlie joined them to give Dean her lab results. He turned to address her. “Just like I thought: mild dehydration and your blood sugar is at 58.” Dean flipped through the info again before handing it over to Sam. “Okay. So I’ll add glucose to her IV and get her up to pre-op.”
“Perfect. Make sure you keep her foot elevated.”
Dean rolled his eyes dramatically. “Do you think this is my first day?”
Sam shrugged. “Just making sure, Jerk.”
“Bitch,” Dean grumbled quietly.
Sam turned his attention back to her. “I’ll see you soon, Shortie. I’ll getcha all fixed up. Sound like a plan?”
She gave him a lazy thumbs up. “Thanks, Gigantor.”
“Can you send Gabe back in here on your way past?” Dean requested. Sam simply nodded as he turned to leave.
Dean returned his focus to her. “How’s the pain now?”
She scrunched up her nose as she considered her answer. “Um, about one and a half.” She laughed at herself.
“That’s good. I see you’re loopy, too.”
She scowled at him. “You’re loopy.”
He just shook his head. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Gabe returned and Dean gave him the med order and asked him to take her up to the OR.
“You’re not coming up?” She pouted.
He shook his head. “I can’t. I’ll be there when you wake up, though, I promise.” He took her hand and placed a quick kiss to her knuckles.
As if on cue, Charlie leaned into the room. “Dean, trauma incoming. MVA car vs pedestrian. Ambo is two minutes out.”
“Okay, I'll be there in a second.” He gave her hand one more squeeze before he turned to leave. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
~
Roughly three hours later, Sam found Dean in the lounge pouring a cup of coffee. He nodded and offered over the now-full cup.
“Thank you.” Sam took a sip of the dark liquid. “We got her all set up in recovery. She should be awake soon.”
“Okay. I’ll head up there in a minute.” Dean took a sip of his own coffee. “Everything went smoothly?”
“I’d have paged you if it hadn’t.”
Dean rolled his eyes.
Sam nodded. “Yes, it went perfectly. It’ll heal up just fine.”
“Thanks, Sammy.”
Wandering into her room, he couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful she looked. He placed his hand softly against her cheek, sweeping his thumb slowly over the skin. She nuzzled into the touch as she lazily opened her eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.”
She gave him a goofy smile. “I like when you call me that.”
“I know you do.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How do you feel?”
“Sleepy.” She yawned. “And I’m starving. Can you bring me some fries?”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad your appetite is back. You get a little more sleep and I’ll bring you fries.”
“And pizza,” she added. Before he could agree, she gasped. “Ice cream!”
“Tell you what: I will get you fries from the cafeteria for you to munch on on the way home and then we can order pizza.”
She pouted as her eyelids started to droop. “What about ice cream?”
His eyebrows scrunched together as he asked, “When do we ever not have ice cream at home?”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” She smiled as she finally let herself drift off once more.
~~~
Tags: @deanwasscaredbyacat @babypieandwhiskey @muchamusedaboutnothing @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes
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jaehyunhour · 4 years ago
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teenage dream | mark lee
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genre + idol → fluff, smut, tiniest bit of angst if you squint, high school au, virgin!mark (x virgin fem!reader) [they’re both 18]
word count → 4.7k
warnings → alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (always wear a condom pls guys), tiniest bit of cursing
summary → mark lee moves to your hometown halfway through your sophomore year of high school, and once he arrives you quickly fall in love with both him and the town you grew to hate. after you graduate, mark has a surprise for you that may or may not include going across state lines, losing your virginity, and asking for your hand in marriage.
“Mark, you can’t leave me. You’re my soulmate.”
“If I could marry you tonight, I would.”
“You know... it’s only about a 5 hour drive to Vegas from here.”
a/n → i’ve been writing this fic for well over a month and it’s finally done!! this fic is purely self-indulgent because 1) i’m in love with mark lee and 2) i think of him every time i listen to teenage dream by katy perry... as always please let me know what you guys think of this one! i think this is one of my favorite fics i’ve written
Before you met Mark, life was bleak. That was the only way to describe it. Your life was monotone, shades of light blue and gray; your daily routine was the same, you walked through life as a zombie and hated everything about your hometown. But when Mark showed up halfway through your sophomore year of high school, when his family moved from Canada, everything changed. You got to show him the ins and outs of the city, turn him into a real native, and fall in love — both with your hometown, and with him.
You can still recall the first time you got to show Mark what it’s like to be a local. You went downtown, taking the light rail and getting off at each stop, enjoying what the city has to offer, before getting back on and staring out the window at the scenery. Mark’s hand rested in-between both of your thighs in an attempt to warm himself, while the other pressed onto the glass window of the light rail and tapped lightly. You pointed out the window at different buildings, telling Mark the story of your life in this little town, and he sat quietly and listened. His gaze lingered on the moving buildings as you spoke, and he immediately felt his entire body warm. This is when Mark knew you were special.
Your high school graduation was bittersweet. You were choosing to go to a college only thirty minutes away from your home because of your family, and Mark was on the waitlist for his dream college in Korea. After all the names were called, and all the caps thrown in the air, Mark wove his way through all of the graduates and straight to you. He picked you up in his arms, spun you around quickly, and set you down.
“We did it,” he said, eyes wide and smile bright. He placed his hands on your face and squished your cheeks before pulling you into another hug. “I have something to tell you.”
“I can’t believe we graduated. Tell me,” you responded.
“I got off the waitlist.”
You let out a scream, pulling back from Mark and hitting him on the chest. “Oh my god, Mark! Holy shit, that’s incredible. So you’re going to Korea? W-when do you leave?” Your stomach drops at the realization that Mark will be going to an entirely different country soon, meanwhile you have to stay in a town that you love only because he’s in it. It’s not the same without him.
“I don’t leave until the beginning of September.”
“So you’ll get to move me into my dorm before you leave?”
“You think I would leave without seeing where you’re going to be living? I need to make sure that you’re being well taken care of in my absence. You know I’m kidnapping you and taking you with me to Korea if I don’t like the dorm, right?”
“I expect absolutely nothing less,” you said, both you and Mark’s families rushing up to you on the football field to congratulate you. Your families forced you to pose for photos, talked amongst themselves about your college plans, and made plans to throw you two a joint graduation party.
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Two weeks after graduation, you’re laying down on the trampoline in your backyard as the sun is setting. It’s a Thursday night, your parents are out of town for the weekend and have left you home alone. You could throw a huge party, celebrate the end of senior year, but instead you choose to enjoy the alone time in your childhood home before you move out. You stare at the moving clouds, your chest sitting on your phone as you talk to Mark who’s currently driving.
“You know, I’m kinda mad that your parents still won’t let you come spend the night at my house. We’re 18! We’re adults,” you say.
Mark lets out a laugh. “My parents are scared that if they let me spend the night at your house that I’ll do drugs, join a gang, and get you pregnant all in one night.”
“Do I really give that vibe off? I thought your parents liked me! We’ve been inseparable for well over 2 years now.”
“They love you, you know that. You’re home, right?”
“Yuuuup,” you say, standing up quickly and jumping a few times on the trampoline. He can hear the creaking of the trampoline and whines.
“No fairrrrr, you’re jumping without me!” Mark says. You hear Mark close the door to his car and lock it. Before you can ask him where he’s headed, he walks through the front door of your house, through the living room, and out into the backyard. Mark hangs up the call, before jumping onto the trampoline with you. 
You get back down onto your back on the trampoline, grabbing at Mark’s leg and trying to pull him down with you. He lays next to you, rolling over so half of his body is on top of yours. He nuzzles his head into your chest and lets out a content sigh.
“You should really keep the doors locked when you’re home alone. What are your plans for tonight?” He asks.
“Mmm, probably watch a movie and eat something. I might raid my mom’s wine cabinet and finish a whole bottle by myself.”
“Woooow, look at you breaking the rules. Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”
“I’m just trying to enjoy myself before college!”
“Look at what I got today,” Mark says, flopping onto his back and pulling an ID out of his pocket. He hands it to you and you inspect it carefully.
“This is a Korean ID,” you start. “Aaaand, it doesn’t even have your name.”
“Yeah! It’s a fake ID. Says I’m 21.”
“Why’d you pick Kim Soohyun for your name? And why do you need a fake ID? You’re legal in Korea, you can drink.”
“My mom says Kim Soohyun is my long lost brother, I thought it would be funny. I got it for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yep,” Mark says, plucking the ID out of your hands and shoving it back into his pocket. “Go pack a bag, we’re going on a road trip.”
“Where to?”
“It’s a secret, but it’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.” Mark lays on his side, and you can feel him staring at you. You turn onto your side to look at him. “Can you close your eyes for a second?”
You nod and close your eyes. Your heart begins beating faster and your breathing is labored. Before you can ask Mark what game he’s playing at, you feel Mark’s lips on yours. You gasp, returning his kiss, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. It’s not your first time kissing someone like this, but it’s definitely his and you can tell. His tongue peruses the inside of your mouth, and his lips are pressed firmly against yours. You try to push your tongue into his mouth in an attempt to control the kiss, but to no avail. Mark pulls back to catch his breath, and his eyes meet yours.
“You’re bad at that,” you whisper, letting out a giggle.
“Yeah, I thought I might be,” Mark says with a sigh.
“You’ll get better at it. W-we can practice,” you say, pecking his lips. “I’ll go pack a bag.”
Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in the passenger’s seat of Mark’s car, watching him as he drives. His hands rest perfectly at 10 and 2, his lips pouting, and he watches the road ahead intensely. 
“You should probably sleep, it’s going to be a while before we get there.”
“How long?” you ask. You recline the seat and lay back, extending your hand out to rest on Mark’s thigh. “Hold my hand.”
One of his hands leaves the steering wheel and he intertwines your fingers with his. “About 16 hours? Just sleep, I’ll wake you up in like 8 hours so you can switch with me.” You nod, closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep. 
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You’re not sure how long you sleep, but when you wake up, Mark’s hand is still holding yours. The sun is shining through the windshield and you look over at Mark, who is also sleeping. You’re parked next to a gas station in what feels like the middle of nowhere. You check your phone: 8:35 a.m.
“Oh, fuck,” you groan, causing Mark to stir. You tear your hand away from his, shifting the seat up and pushing Mark to wake up. “Mark, get up.”
He groans too before sitting back up. “I just fell asleep.”
“Why did you let me sleep for so long? You drove for 12 straight hours! I’m going to go inside the gas station and buy some coffee, then I’ll drive the rest of the way. You can sleep until we get to wherever the hell you’re taking me.”
Mark tries to sleep for the remaining four hours of your drive, but he’s too excited to be able to sleep. Instead, he watches you drive and smiles proudly. Mark has always thought you are so beautiful, even in your current state — no makeup, hair messy from sleeping in the car, and bags underneath your eyes. He leans over and presses a rough kiss to your cheek before laying back down. 
“What’s gotten into you?”
“What do you mean?”
“This isn’t like you. Yesterday before we left you practically shoved your tongue down my throat, and now you’re forcing me on a road trip. You’re not normally like this.”
“I just… I realized that I wasted so much time not doing the things I want to do with you, and I would’ve hated myself forever if I didn’t do it before I left to Korea.”
“You would’ve hated yourself forever if you didn’t make out with your best friend and force her to drive around before leaving to Korea?” You pause. “Where are we going?”
“Something like that. Uh… well, we’re in California,” Mark says, causing you to swerve.
“You brought me across state lines?! Maaaark, your parents are going to kill you!”
“They think I’m with Johnny-hyung for the weekend. Don’t worry, he’ll cover for me. I think we’re only like half an hour away from LA.”
“You’re insane, Mark. So so insane.”
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“So this is Santa Monica, huh?” Mark says, looking out at the crashing waves in front of him and inhaling deeply, letting his lungs fill with the cool ocean air, sand getting stuck between his toes.
“This is so beautiful,” you whisper. “Thank you for bringing me, Mark.”
“I would do anything for you, I hope you know that,” Mark responds. He takes out a brown paper bag from his backpack, twisting off the cap of the bottle inside and taking a swig of it and gagging. You laugh, taking the bottle out of his hand and sniffing it before taking a drink yourself. 
“Why would you buy vodka? You know you can’t drink alcohol very well.”
“I wanted to see if my ID would work! It was pretty easy, I just handed it to the guy and spoke in Korean and he didn’t question it.” He takes the bottle out of your hand and takes another drink, this time more prepared and able to suppress the gag that bubbles in his throat. You turn to look at Mark, and he quickly shifts his head to stare back at you. Some people say they feel their heart skip a beat when the person they love looks at them, but when Mark looks at you, your heart stops completely. Your heart stops, your breath gets caught in your chest, and you stop blinking. You have to make a conscious effort to breathe in and out, and open and close your eyelids as Mark looks at you and overtakes your thoughts.
As you’re staring at Mark, memorizing every inch of his face as the Santa Monica sun sets, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up and your face begin to numb as the vodka hits you. He reaches out to pinch your cheek, smiling wide at your flushed face, and when you feel his fingers on your skin, you just know — this is real, this is love.
“You’re so cute,” Mark says.
“Says you.” You grab the bottle from Mark’s other hand, taking another deep chug before pressing the bottle to his lips. You tilt it and he drinks from it until he can’t handle the taste anymore, pushing it away slightly and letting you drop it between your bodies.
“Y/N, I—”
“Kiss me.”
Mark doesn’t need to be told twice; instantly pressing you down into the sand, body hovering above yours and attaching his lips to yours. He lets you lead the kiss this time, opening his mouth when he feels your tongue poking at his lips and allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. Your tongue traces over his teeth, before meeting his tongue and playing with it. Your hands come up to hold onto his face, and he softens into your touch. Mark feels dizzy — both from the feeling of your tongue in his mouth and the vodka hitting him all at once. He pulls away, panting as he tries to catch his breath.
“I feel like I’m living a dream,” Mark says, staring at your face with something you can only describe as love in his eyes.
“I want to go swimming,” you respond, quickly sitting up without thinking and hitting your head against his. “Owie, I’m sorry, honey. Don’t know why I got up so quickly.”
Mark giggles and sits up, peeling his shirt off and dropping it on the sand. “Let’s go swimming.” He stands up, trying to kick his skinny jeans off as you stand up and start walking to the water. “Y/N! Take your jeans off at least.”
“Nuh-uh, I wanna go swimming,” you say, stumbling as you walk through the hot sand as quickly as you can and into the water. You don’t even register how cold the water is, quickly walking deep into the ocean and letting the waves go over your head. Mark rushes to catch up with you, walking into the ocean in only his underwear. He pulls you into his arms and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and rest your forehead up against his.
“I miss you already, Mark.”
“I don’t even leave for another 3 months.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to go,” you say quietly. Unwillingly, tears fall down your cheeks and mix with the salt water on your face.
“I’m so glad I finally found you,” Mark responds. “My missing puzzle piece. I’m complete.” He wipes the tears and water from your face and presses a kiss to your lips. 
“I can’t believe we’ve known each other for over 2 years and you waited for us to graduate before making a move on me,” you say, angrily pressing another kiss to his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I took you downtown for the first time, Mark.”
“And I’ve been in love with you since the day you asked me to go downtown with you.”
“You’re so lame,” you say to Mark, just as a huge wave goes over your heads and crashes. You both burst into laughter and you untangle yourself from him, pushing the hair out of your face and trying to regain your breathe. You place your hands on Mark’s shoulders, letting them travel down his chest to the waistband of his underwear. You slip your fingers underneath, pulling the band back before letting it snap back on his skin. “Mark, have you ever… you know…”
He shakes his head no. “M-my mom told me I should s-save myself for someone special,” he says, nervously. “Have you, ever… you know…”
You shake your head no. “Let’s go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love. Just you and me.”
“Okay.”
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You and Mark stumble into the Santa Monica Motel, only a 20 minute walk from the Santa Monica Pier, coming up to the front desk with your clothes still dripping and asking for whatever vacant room they have. The desk attendant rolls his eyes, handing you two a pair of room keys and sending you on your way. You walk into the room, one hand holding Mark’s hand, as the other held onto the mostly gone bottle of vodka.
As you walk into the room, Mark throws your things onto the floor and locks the door behind him. You drink half of what’s left in the bottle, giving the rest to Mark which he finishes quickly before stepping into the bathroom. As Mark is in the bathroom freshening up, you pull the sheets off the bed and throw them onto the floor. You then pull the cushions off the couch in the corner, attempting to make a fort in the tiny motel room. You set the cushions up, then use the pillows to try and complete the walls of your fort, before throwing a thin white sheet over everything and crawling underneath. Mark comes out of the bathroom and raises an eyebrow when he sees the mess you’ve created on the floor.
“Y/N?”
“Come meet me in the fort, honey.”
Mark crawls underneath the sheet carefully, trying not to destroy the fort he’s sure you worked hard on. Once he’s underneath and he sees your shirt sticking to your chest, and your skin-tight jeans seemingly sticking tighter to your skin, his heart begins to race.
“I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but I feel like I’m living a dream,” Mark says, letting his hand rest on your stomach. You reach for his arm, pinching him slightly and he lets out a soft moan. “What was that for?”
“Just to remind you that this isn’t a dream. This is real, and I love you.”
“I love you,” Mark responds. You pull your wet shirt up and off your head, letting it fall to the floor before you unbutton your wet jeans and try to push them off.
“Mark, I need help,” you whine. He laughs before helping you pull your jeans down and setting them on the floor with your shirt. He looks at your entire body up and down, taking in the sight of your matching bra and underwear.
He groans. “Fuck, I really love you.” Mark lets his body hover over yours, quickly enveloping your lips in a quick, passionate kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you and bucking your hips up to meet his. Mark feels himself harden in his underwear and he whines into your mouth at the feeling of you grinding up into him. Your hands grip onto his cheeks softly just as they did when you kissed on the beach, and one of his hands reaches up to pull your bra down and let your breasts free. His hands grab at your chest as if he’s done this before, fingers tugging and tweaking your nipples and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth and is caught by his. 
You rip his hand away from your chest, bringing it down into your underwear and pressing his fingers onto your clit. His fingers reach down to your entrance, teasing it softly before collecting your slick and returning to your clit. He pushes down roughly, rubbing in circles and your hips buck up again. This is the first time anyone else has ever touched you, and you quickly feel the knot forming in your stomach. 
“Mark, I’m gonna—” you say, pulling back from his lips for a second and grinding harder into his fingers in an attempt to reach your high quicker.
“Really?” Mark asks in disbelief, eyes wide as he presses his fingers harder into you and takes in the sight of your body. Your chest is going up and down quickly, hips moving and grinding into his fingers, one hand gripping onto his wrist as the other grips on his hair. 
“Fuck, just a few more seconds, I swear, Mark,” you whine, and he speeds his fingers up. And surely enough, within a few seconds, you’re gripping onto his wrist tightly to stop his movements as you cum, clenching around nothing as you chant his name repeatedly. Mark lets you come down from your high on your own time, afraid of overstimulating you before he can even get inside of you. As soon as you’ve come down from your orgasm, you’re pulling Mark into another kiss and pushing his underwear down. 
“Y/N, I-I should p-probably get a c-c-condom,” Mark stutters as your hand grips onto his hard dick and pumps lightly. 
“Nuh-uh,” you say, letting go of him and bucking your hips, feeling the tip of his dick rub against your clit and letting out a content sigh. “I want to feel all of you.”
Mark nods, gripping onto the base of his dick and pushing himself into you slowly, letting you adjust to him. Once he’s all the way in, he lets out a shaky breath as you clench around him a few times, getting used to the feeling of being full of something more than your fingers. “You can move now, honey.” He nods again and slowly begins moving his hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back in.
Mark lowers himself more, making sure you’re chest to chest as he moves slowly inside of you. Your legs wrap around his waist again, arms around his neck, pulling him close to you as you close your eyes and focus on the feeling of Mark’s length moving in and out of you swiftly. Mark lowers his head, resting it on your shoulder and pressing a kiss as you let your mouth fall open in a moan.
“I love you,” Mark’s hips pick up speed at your confession and you let out another loud moan. “I love you, I love you, fuck, baby, I really love you.”
He balances his weight on his hands, pushing himself up to look into your eyes as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. You want to close your eyes so bad, want to focus on the feeling of Mark fucking you, but you’re mesmerized as his eyes look into yours. You’re afraid to even blink, not wanting to miss a moment of this, not wanting to miss a second of the way Mark’s eyebrows furrow as he looks into your eyes, then down at your chest, then down at where your hips meet, then back up into your eyes. He shifts his weight onto one hand, moving the other to your clit and your eyes instantly roll into the back of your head.
“Look at me, baby,” Mark says quietly, angling his hips to meet that spot inside of you, and you struggle to keep your eyes open and looking at him, but you try. 
“A-are you sure you’ve n-never done this before?” You ask, clenching tightly around Mark as he fucks you and rubs your clit. 
“N-never ever. Been saving myself for you.”
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whine.
“Cum for me, baby, please.” Mark says, and you nod as he presses his fingers just a little harder, pushing you over the edge quickly. The feeling of you clenching around his length sporadically, and your fingernails digging into his back, is enough to push him over the edge, and he’s cumming in you in thick white ropes. He lets out a deep groan as he cuts inside of you, giving you everything he’s got. He falls on top of you, not even bothering to pull out, and you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. You wipe the sweat off from his forehead and let out a laugh that he returns.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you say.
“Are you on birth control?” Mark asks.
You flick his forehead and giggle. “Yes, I’m on birth control. I have been for like a year.”
“Oh thank God,” he lets out a sigh of relief.
You bask in the silence of the motel room for a second, realizing you’re still on the carpeted floor in the fort you’ve built. “Lets get into bed.”
Mark fixes the sheets and pillows onto the bed as you use the bathroom, and when you emerge from the bathroom naked and crawl into bed next to him, he feels his chest swell with love for you. As soon as you’re in bed with him, you snuggle into his body, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.
“Your heart is beating really fast,” you whisper.
“Because of you,” he responds. He pushes you off him slightly, pushing you onto your back and resting his head on your chest. “I wanna be held.”
“You’re such a baby.” You play with Mark’s hair, enjoying the silence before it hits you that Mark is going to leave you. You’ve finally gotten the boy you love, given everything to him, and within a few months he’s going to leave you and start a new life while you’re stuck in your tiny town. Your chest begins to warm in anxiety at the thought of having to be away from him, and tears well in your eyes. “Mark, you can’t leave me. You’re my soulmate.”
“Come with me, then.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” The tears drip down your face slowly and Mark can tell you’re crying by the way your chest contracts underneath him.
He sits up quickly and looks down at you, eyes flickering to your bare chest for a split second before looking back up into your eyes. He wipes the tears from your face. “Y/N, I’m serious. Just take a year off and come with me to Korea, and then you can start school there. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He leans down and presses a kiss between your breasts before coming back up. “I can’t live my life without you.  Please come with me.”
“Mark, my parents would kill me. Moving to a new country for a boy I’m not even married to? You’re insane.”
“If I could marry you tonight, I would.” Mark thinks for a second and grabs his phone from the table next to the bed, unlocking it and shielding it from your view as he looks something up.
“What time is it?”
“It’s midnight,” he responds.
“You know… it’s only about a 5 hour drive to Vegas from here.”
“And?”
“If we start driving now, we can make it by the time the sun rises.”
“Aaaaand?”
“Aaaand, wecouldbeimpulsiveandgogetmarriedmaybeifyoureallymeantit,” you say quietly.
Mark lets out a hearty laugh before rolling over onto you and pressing a flurry of kisses all over your face, before pulling you into a long kiss.
“What was all that for?” you ask.
He unlocks his phone and hands it over to you, showing that he was looking up 24 hour pawn shops nearby.
“I had the same thought. I thought maybe we go out and get some food, hit one of these pawn shops and get some rings, then drive over to Vegas.”
You let out a laugh and peck his lips. “Let’s go then, baby.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on your parents’ face when you tell them I convinced you to drive across state lines, get married to me, and drop out of state university to move to another country with me.”
“They’ll just have to deal,” you say, getting up out of bed and cringing as you put your wet clothes back on. “I have dry clothes in the car. It’s still parked by the beach, isn’t it?” Mark nods in response, slipping his wet clothes back on and leaving the room keys with the front desk attendant. Your hand slips into his as you walk in the dark streets of the city, walking towards the beach where Mark’s car is parked. “Can we stop in San Francisco on our way back home? I want to see the Golden Gate Bridge.”
“We can do whatever you want, baby.”
“I love you. You know that, right?”
“I know. I love you, too. You know that, right?”
“I know,” you sigh contently. “I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”
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mcwriting · 3 years ago
Text
lab partners
Um pls be advised that I wrote Tom as a lil soft nerdy college boy and it's a lil angsty at one point but I promise it has a sweet ending :)
Ship: Soft!College!Nerd!Tom Holland x Reader
Word Count: 2383
Warnings: some angsty vibes, cussing
Not a warning but I talk about chemistry some so sorry if you're not a chem person lol
You shuffled through your chemistry notebook, trying to decide the most efficient way to get all of the necessary supplies before the experiment started.
That would, of course, require your lab partner to actually show up.
Tom was never actually late to the chemistry lab, but it wasn't unusual for him to show up with only a minute or so to spare.
As if on cue, he clambered through the door, taking the essentials from his backpack before stuffing it into the cubby next to yours. You pretended not to notice him as he slid onto the stool next to you.
"Mornin' sunshine," he said cheerily, setting down his gloves, goggles, and notebook. "What're you up to?"
"Just reading over my notes, as usual," you answered, closing the notebook and sliding it away from you.
"I'm hoping we can get out of this lab quickly today. Woke up late and didn't have time for breakfast," you yawned. "Hopefully they'll still have muffins at the dining hall when we're done, I'm craving banana nut."
You heard it as soon as you said it, and Tom's face lit up.
"I know of a banana with some nut you can have," he started, but you gave him a shove and quieted him.
"Shut up, you total weirdo," you laughed, hoping the other lab groups hadn't heard him. Couldn't let anyone think you and Tom actually had something going on.
Not that it mattered, but you didn't want to give off the wrong impressions. Maybe one day someone would take an interest and ask you out, excluding Tom, of course. That would be weird.
Not weird in a sense that you wouldn't say yes, though. It's just that after being lab partners for almost a year now he was just a friend and you were too close to really...
Oh forget it.
"Okay, okay." Tom conceded, hands raised. "But seriously, there is a granola bar in my bag if you want to eat it after we get the lab started. I'll watch the stuff and you can go in the hall."
You grinned. He may be an idiot, but at least he was a sweet one.
Really, though, he wasn't that much of an idiot. Not in the booksmarts sense. He definitely knew his stuff when it came to all of the concepts you'd learned.
More often than not it was you going to him to ask how to do certain problems or compare homework answers.
He was especially good with titrations, the experiment you were doing today.
You prepared to answer him about the granola bar when the TA started class.
"Okay, guys. We aren't having a quiz this week and you should already know the basics of this experiment, so you can get started with it as soon as you get your things together. The acids are under hood 1, pH meters are over there, and the indicator and solid base are on the counter. Let me know if you have any questions."
With that, you quickly got to work, splitting up to get things done faster.
The goal of the experiment was to calculate the concentration of an unknown acid based on how concentrated of a base solution you made.
After a previous incident that caused quite a large percent error (and wasted perfectly good product), you had kicked Tom off of weighing duties, instead leaving him to measure out the volume of liquid acid needed.
You were adding water to the solid base in a beaker when you heard a voice say "ah shit" under his breath. Any time you heard Tom say that, you knew that meant something was up.
When you turned, you found that Tom had spilled some acid on the counter, just a few inches from your laptop.
"Dude!" you exclaimed, grabbing it and setting it on a higher platform quickly. "Am I gonna have to take you off all measuring duties?"
Tom gave you a worried look.
"I'm sorry! I was trying to add it to the beaker from the graduated cylinder but some of it stuck to the side and spilled."
You furrowed your brows.
"Wait why did you measure it in the cylinder? You know the beaker has lines on it, right? We just have to factor the error into our calculations."
Tom went to facepalm, but stopped when he remembered the gloved hand he'd raised had acid on it.
"Now you remind me..." he muttered.
"Why don't you go waste what's left and clean this up while I measure some fresh into the beaker," you smiled patiently, knowing that small mistakes like this flustered him easily.
When you came back, Tom was washing the burette with a few milliliters of the base you had made over the sink. You looked down and saw a couple of drops had fallen from the base beaker.
"Well lets just hope that neutralized the acid he spilled," you thought as you went to wet a paper towel.
He saw you wiping up the spot when he came back to set up the burette.
"What are you doing? I already got the acid."
"I um... I spilled a little drop of my own. No biggie," you lied, hoping he wouldn't press it.
"I spilled some of the base, didn't I?" he asked flatly. You cringed but nodded. "Great. This really is my day so far."
You felt bad. Sure Tom could be clumsy or a little slow when it came to "common sense," but usually it was just one small thing towards the end of the lab, definitely not successive.
"Hey, look at it this way, the only 'bad' thing you did today was spill some reagents. And you already got it out of your system before we even started!"
"I'm not sure that's helping as much as you think it is, but thanks for the sentiment, y/n."
You scrunched your nose at his answer, but moved on, wanting to get the first titration done quickly, since you'd need to repeat it 2 more times.
Thankfully the first went by without a hitch. The numbers all seemed to be in order and it wasn't long before you were starting the experiment again to collect new data.
A while had passed, however, and your hunger was starting to make itself apparent. You tried to talk to Tom to distract yourself, but your stomach started growling enough that even he took notice.
"Seriously, y/n I'll get that granola bar for you if you want it," he offered again.
"No, I'll be okay. It looks like we only need to take a few more data points so we'll be done with the third trial in no time. Thanks, though."
As expected, you finished the second quickly and moved on to the third.
"Hey I'm going to clean up some of our glassware real quick if you don't mind taking measurements," you said, wanting to get ahead on cleanup so you could finally grab a meal. Tom nodded and you took some beakers to the sink.
As you were drying them, you saw Tom give you a nervous look from your station.
Oh no.
You quickly shoved the glassware in a drawer and walked over to find the solution had changed colors and all of the base drained from the burette.
"Tom what happened?" you asked, afraid that this meant you would need to do the trial again.
He looked worried as he held up a plastic piece. The stopper had broken off.
"Tom what the hell! We were almost out of here!"
"I know, I know, and I'm sorry but maybe the TA won't make us do it again? I was like.. basically to the endpoint."
You called the TA over, who looked at your data and sighed.
"Look, I know this is your last run but you've still got some base left, so why don't you do it one more time. You two are still a whole trial ahead of everyone else so it's not like you'll have to stay late," she said.
Internally, you were fuming, but thanked the TA and waited for her to leave.
"Why can't you just do something right for once!" you breathed, exasperated. You felt tears forming out of frustration.
Tom looked at you with glassy eyes of his own and you immediately felt like the worst person in the world.
You knew the hunger was getting to you but it didn't excuse your behavior. You tried to soften your expression.
"Oh, Tom, I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean it like that-"
"Like what, y/n? What other possible way could you have meant that? I get it, I'm a fuckup. Why don't you just do the last one and I'll write down the numbers. Surely I can do that right," he bit back, getting up to get you a new burette to replace the broken one.
You did the rest of the lab in silence. You'd tried saying something here or there, but he wouldn't even look at you, instead copying numbers into both his and your notebooks.
Your guilt had made you almost forget about your hunger, but it was still tugging at the back of your mind.
When you were done, most of the other groups were finishing up as well, so you and Tom wordlessly split up the tasks of cleaning things up to work around them.
You were putting the smaller glass pieces back into a casing that fit in a drawer when Tom went to grab his backpack and put away his notes.
As you did the same, you saw Tom's hand move before he zipped the bag and headed out quickly.
Left on the counter next to you was the granola bar he'd offered up earlier.
Now you felt even shittier. Here you were lashing out at the guy and he was still trying to take care of you.
You zipped up your bag as quickly as possible and stuffed the snack into your pocket as you ran out of the lab, hoping to catch up with him.
It was still another half hour or so until the normal class change, so the hallway and rest of campus was mostly empty. You easily spotted him opening up the door to your left.
"Tom, wait!"
He glanced back but didn't stop, stepping out into the sunshine.
You ran that way, bursting through the door as Tom was stomping away.
"Tom! Please just listen!" you exclaimed, running to catch up to him. He didn't stop, instead picking up the pace.
"Why should I listen to you? I am keenly aware of what you think of me."
"Because I don't really feel that way, Tom! You're not a fuckup."
Finally he stopped under a large tree.
"I may not be that but apparently I can't do anything right so take your pick on what's worse."
He looked angry and hurt, justifiably so. You grabbed his arms and looked him in the eyes.
"Tom, I am so, so sorry for what I said. I was hungry and frustrated and not at all patient with you. We all have bad days, and I shouldn't have forgotten that in the heat of the moment."
"That's the thing! My bad days are every day! I can't get through my day without tripping, breaking something, spilling reagents all over the lab! You weren't wrong about me and that's what freaks me out the most."
"But, I was! You aren't that person I mean-"
"Y/n just accept it. I've had girls break up with me because of this. My own roommates, hell my family, get pissed at me constantly because I can't do things right. I was naive enough to think that I was doing something right with you but here we are."
Tom hung his head before realizing what the implications of what he had said, popping back up to look at you with wide eyes. You could only smile.
"I like to think you were doing something right with me all along. I'm the one who messed everything up today. Tom, you are one of the sweetest, most genuine people I know. You're funny, hella smart, adorable. I don't deserve an incredible guy like you in my life. I mean, after what I said, you were still willing to give me your food? I can't think of anyone else who would do that for me."
Tom perked up some, a grin coming to his face.
"You needed it a lot more than me. But do you really mean that? You feel that way?"
"Of course I do." You paused, studying his face.
After a few seconds you reached up to grab his shoulders and kissed his cheek, then pulled him into a hug.
"I really hope you can forgive me. I truly think the world of you," you whispered.
He pulled back and brushed a strand of hair from your face. Both of you had watery eyes but grinned. He nodded, the did the unexpected.
He pressed a gentile kiss to your lips.
You both let out a chuckle in both relief and nervousness as you pulled away. You wiped your eyes as he did the same. There was a lull in conversation until you remembered something.
You patted your pockets, finding and fishing out the granola bar. You held it out to his and he gave you a confused expression.
"I, um. I think you should keep this for now."
"What do you mean? I gave it to you to eat."
"Well yeah but it's just... how would you like to join me in the dining hall instead? Call it a date, call it a post-lab meal. Either way, I'm hungry and would really like you to join me."
He thought about it for a second, but finally smiled and took the bar from your hand, sliding it in the side of his backpack.
"Come on, I could use a snack too," he answered, sticking an elbow out for you to wrap your arm in. "You think they'll have your banana nut muffin still?"
"I don't really care about that anymore, I think I've got a perfect muffin right here. But we should probably still hurry before the lines get too long."
A/N: I'm sorry but writing soft Tom was ??? Precious? I made myself feel so bad for him and he literally has never been, nor will ever be, in this situation but I mean come on.
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scriptaed · 4 years ago
Text
his side, her side finale | 00:00
Tumblr media
genre: angst/fluff/implied smut; 
pairing: reader x jungkook;
length: 4.6k;
synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.
No matter how infinite the pages could write itself, in the way that he catches her stealing glances from across the room or the scalding spark imprinted on her hand by the touch of his own, there really are only three versions to every story: his side, her side, and the truth’s side; and in your unsolicited albeit self-justified defense, the truth is, what was once seemingly perpetual is now merely trivial. The imagery that once had you kicking and screaming into your sheets at night, the fleeting moments that were shared by both but valued by one, and the inevitably incessant burden of jealousy brought upon by a fervent want that could never be had could only have been falsified by a break—spatially, temporally, and heartfully. The mind can only tug so much at one’s strings; and yet, to be bent, only time could prove possible.
...and that time is exactly what is needed by all.
her side;
“Are you joining us for dinner tonight, Y/N?” 
“Huh? What?” your ears perk at the sound of your friend’s call. 
“Oh, there she goes again,” your other friend interjects with the roll of her eyes. You almost collapse when she swings a hand over your shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to get your ears checked?”
“No, but I might have to get my eyes checked,” you joke, despite pulling in all the performance points you could win with a disdainful scan up and down her less than professional attire. Thankfully, your act is gleefully extended by her cheesy gawk of an expression. Putting up a merciful pair of hands in the air, you laugh, “hey, in all seriousness, it’s not my fault you guys keep drooling over boys.”
“Uhuh, so you’re trying to tell us that boy talk is what’s putting you to sleep?” your friend’s accomplice crosses her arms, raising an accusatory pair of brows. 
“Yeah,” you say much too seriously so you throw in an airy laugh, “I mean, there’s more to life than boys, y’know?”
“Right, like…?”
“Like…” your voice trails off because, for some reason, your mind goes blank as you attempt to recall your lifestyle from your previous hometown. “Like… hanging out with friends! With you guys!”
“Gah! You’re only able to say that because you have dozens of boys chasing you around the office. Us, on the other hand, time just… it just keeps ticking…” the two of them sigh in synchronization and you feel the heat of her arms retract as she shakes the hand of her one and only sympathizer. 
“Psh,” you can’t help but grin throughout the frown elicited by their vivacious performance, “you guys have plenty of time. Just enjoy life for now and I’m sure you’ll find someone along the way.” 
“Wait, but seriously,” her voice suddenly rises from her previously sullen state, as does her head on her friend’s shoulder. She looks you dead in the eye, and, honestly, you almost feel as though your privacy had just been invaded. “You really haven’t ever liked anyone before?” 
“Uh…” you scatter through the disarrayed files that were your buried memories, eyes squinting at the sun that peeks through the clearing sky after a day full of rainfall. “Elementary and middle school don’t really count… too busy studying in high school… college was full of fuck boys I couldn’t care less for… and at work…”
The more that you hear yourself ramble, the more the reality of your lonesome future settles into the already burdened shoulders of yours.
“At work? You mean here? Or do you mean your last job?”
“Well,” you frown, trying to recall every male colleague that had piqued even the tiniest of interest in you; and as the two of your friends lean in, you start to lean back, despite the charging light bulb that flickers from the unlocked recollection of two years ago. “There was a guy who liked me and told everyone at work that he liked me, which I thought was really weird… nice guy, kind of a nerd, but I didn’t like him that way. Who else? Uh, hm—”
—bzzz. 
The vibration against your back pocket pulls the plug from your train of thought. 
“Aw man,” you hear your friends curse in the background, “just when we were finally getting her to spill something.” 
The name on your screen has your heart skipping with delight.
 Yezi [5:20 PM] Hey, I know you’re gonna forget, so you before you do, we’re having dinner together tonight :) 
“It’s okay,” your friend pats the back of the other, “there’ll be some cute enough boys for her at tonight’s barbeque, I’m sure.”
“Ah shit,” you curse under your breath, hastily typing a response before peering up at your friends like a deer caught in the headlights, “actually, guys, turns out I already made plans with my friend from home. I’m sooo sorry.”
“Oh, really?” the two of them gasp. “Isn’t that a two hour train ride from here?” 
“Yeah, so I really got to go now,” your phone tumbles into your bag as you begin to widen your strides like a woman on a mission. 
They shake their heads in unison, “no, no, it’s okay!”
“I’m seriously so sorry guys,” you say as you pant, the distance between you and your friends widening by the second and forcing you to whirl around as you pace backwards. “I’ll make it up to you next time and do whatever you guys want, okay?”
“Really? Anything?”
“Yeah,” your hands draw a wide, inclusive circle into the air, “anything.” 
“Even a blind date?” 
“You know what? Why the hell not?” you chime, whirling back around with your back on them and a smile hidden away. Skipping off into the opposite direction toward the train station, you exclaim nonchalantly, “new year, new me!”
Lately, either through a stroke of luck or a reset of a life in a new town, there’s been something spectacularly whimsical about tonight’s air; and when a zephyr passes by, lifting you to the tip of your toes to an invincible high and relaying the confuzzled whispers of your friends—
“—wait, it’s not a new year, it’s already April—”
—you finally acquire a two year long-sought sensation: golden.
-
“I can’t believe you almost forgot about our plans!” 
“Hey, I had a reminder set on my phone just ten minutes after your reminder” you quip with pursed lips, “and I still made it on time, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” Yezi prims with a stern look plastered across her face, gesturing, “with your hair and clothes damp in rain and your face smiling like a wagging, clueless beagle.”
“Well… beagles are cute, so I’ll take that as a compliment?” 
She frowns, ignoring your remark, “did you not check the weather forecast?”
“I did.”
“So why didn’t you bring an umbrella?”
“I forgot.”
“Ugh, you forget everything these days,” she plants a palm to her forehead before returning to her plate, “well, I’m glad that at least you’re so carefree nowadays. You’ve finally settled into your new workplace, huh? You look so happy now.”
“You talk—” it’s difficult to speak with food being stuffed into your mouth “—as if I lost a loved one.”
“Well,” she grits her teeth, as if biting her tongue, and proceeds to slice the slab of steak, “I wouldn’t say that’s too farfetched.” 
Frowning, your words come out muffled through puffed cheeks, “whaddya mean by dat?”
“You can’t tell me you forgot about what happened last time you were in town.”
“Uh…?” you furrow your brows, tracing into a forgotten yet familiar field you had long neglected for your own wellbeing. Last time you were in town, last time you were working here, last time you went out on a company party, last time you walked through this town’s treacherously embracing frosty breeze, last time you were dining here, last time you got wasted, not just here but anywhere, last time you shed tears… all the last times of this town shared only one similarity, a similarity you had subconsciously left behind at some point in your transition between the past and the now. 
“Do I really have to say it myself?” she leans in, concerned. “I don’t want you bawling your eyes out again…”
Did she possibly mean… him?
“Jeon Jungkook,” she blurts, “there! I said it!”
Her utensils clatter onto her plate as she tosses her hands in the air in mercy, almost as if bracing herself for the storm after the calm, observing you intently but warily; that supposed storm, however and ever so fortunately, never arrives. 
“Oh,” you utter, words slipping from your lips like sand through a palm, “I’m not crying.”
“You’re not crying,” she confirms, astonished. 
“It doesn’t… hurt anymore?” you almost ask yourself. 
“It doesn’t?”
“It doesn’t,” you utter, shaking your head. Just as she’s caught off guard, you lurch across the table to pinch her cheeks, “but that doesn’t mean I appreciate you bringing him up during a perfectly lovely night!” 
“Sho—” she furrows her brows in combination to her squished cheeks “—he doesh make you shad shtill?”
“Well, he doesn’t make me elated,” you finally release her from your wrath, returning to stare downward at your food, “but I guess it makes me reflect fondly on the past. It’s kind of like a scar. I know how much it once hurt but I can’t feel it to the same magnitude anymore. Actually, instead, the happy, jittery moments are more vivid to me than the tears that were shed. Is that… odd?”
“Like… like what? Examples?” 
Like when his arm bumped into yours for the first time on the walk after work, like when he discretely went out of his way to ensure your safety across the bridge home, like when he enamored over the ‘ripped abs’ of a fully nude female character design of an upcoming project whilst you stood awkwardly with a set of breasts in full display for the two of you, like when the two of you escaped to become the aloof, static noise of an unbefitting party, or like when he held you in his hands and kissed you at the stroke of midnight, the butterflies live on—even today—to shield you from the dampened blows struck by dull weapons of jealousy, insecurity, and remorse. 
With time, the silver lining finally showed itself like a sun shining through after a stormy night. You’ve finally accepted the truths behind every weapon. She was pretty. They were pretty. She never wronged you. They never wronged you. They deserved his love. His heart belonged to whomever he desired. 
He never badmouthed his peers and, as blunt of a man as he was, he never pointed out your flaws, even if that meant you would later return home only to find mascara flakes on your cheeks. He treated women like a gentleman, as contradictory as it may seem from his appetite demeanor; and while you fell for him for that, you also cursed him for that very reason. He didn’t owe you anything… up to a certain point until the lines were too blurred to decipher between the truth, the deserved, and the faulty. Be it Ji-eun or Jennie, you’ve come to terms with his relationships. 
As much as your relations with him seemed to run on a fragile thread of fate, your time had run out and the window of opportunity had been shut—but hey, at least you had fun.
“Are you… smiling?”
“Hm?” you look up to find her staring at you in concern. Blinking blankly, you quickly clear your throat and retract the smile you had subconsciously adorned. “I am?”
“I… don’t know if I should be worried or not,” Yezi downs another glass of iced water and you’re about to follow suit until she almost chokes on her water, “hey—isn’t that Jennie over there?” 
“Jennie?”
You almost curse at Yezi for teasing you over bygones that should’ve been left as just that, but she really wasn’t lying. You can’t believe your eyes when you whirl your head around to look through the darkened tint of the restaurant’s window panes. You might have never really spoken to Jennie, but that figure is undeniably Jennie. 
“What is she doing?” you squint, struggling to grasp a clear vision of her silhouette under the dim, orange street light beside her. You could only catch a hint of her side profile but those cheeks and unique sense of fashion definitely belonged to her; on the other hand, the constant stumbling and the hand to her head, almost as if she’s about to collapse at any second, did not resemble her. “Oh, oh, hold on, wait, whoa—we should help her!” 
You scramble to your feet and bolt out the door whilst Yezi takes care of your abrupt leave with the restaurant staff. A freezing blast of wind welcomes you as soon as you step into the sidewalk but you waste no time. Abandoning the cold behind you along with the past, your mind is set on aiding the collapsed woman on the streets. 
“Hey! Jennie, hey!” you call out to her as you sprint to her side, dropping to the floor without caring to notice the shards of glass that consequently cut your knees as you carefully roll her limp body onto its back and away from the sharp hazards. The pain has you wincing and seething under your breath, but the conditions of the person lying before you has you even more concerned. Her skin is even paler than usual. Her chest rises and falls rapidly in an evident struggle. Your taps against her shoulder gradually become frantic shakes until all you can hear is your voice and the whispering commotion of bystanders behind you. “Jennie! Can you hear me?!” 
“Y/N!” you turn around to find Yezi peering down at you from above. “What happened?”
“I don’t know but something’s definitely not right,” you say as calmly as you could, “call 911. I’ll call her family.”
“Got it,” Yezi nods, immediately dialing the numbers on her phone but pausing in the midst of the ring to face you, “wait, do you know anyone from her family?”
Gritting your teeth, you frown as you dig into your memories, “...no, I know she might have had a boyfriend back then, so he might know, but I don’t know if they’re still together and I don’t even know his number…”
“Do you know anyone who might know her boyfriend then?” 
“Well…” 
The ending trails of your voice are whisked away into the returning wind of that fateful night. Hands gripping at your phone and eyes staring at the stranger yet familiarity of a name that glares off the screen, it’s an inevitable force that has you stupefied yet marveled at the revival of a tugging string that ties you to him through the strangest, most meandering paths. 
-
his side;
It was almost like a fever dream. Her name plastered across his screen and his eyes squinting through the glaring light that illuminates his room. It had been two years since he had any contact nor mention of her; and now, out of the blue, in the midst of a nap after gym session, she calls him for help. He couldn’t believe his ears when he first heard her voice, believing it all to be another one of those numerous dreams that had him regretting his past or questioning his choices. He shot straight up in bed, phone grasped and glued to his ears that blocked out the computer fan that ran in the background. 
Even now, after throwing on a sweater and jacket and bolting out the door in a state of rescue, he can’t quite believe his eyes; because there she sits on the hospital bench, in the signature slumped boyish manner and the confused blank stare off into the distance that still has him quirking a smile in remembrance every once in a while. In her favorite white blouse and her only slack of black dress pants, it’s almost as if nothing had changed, almost as if she had never left. 
It’s almost like time had bent to his incessantly subconscious pleas and reversed its works; but the almost will always be an almost, for as long as those hallmark vivacious eyes and those rekindled mien of ambition lives. As far as Jungkook knew, she left with a dreary heart and returned with a fiery purpose. 
Despite all that, he can’t help but notice the way she fidgets in her seat, nearly sinking and avoiding all contact the second his presence had been noticed. Instead of the sheepish flickering stolen glances of the past, he finds himself at odds with the way she fights to return the locked gaze of his eyes. She fought so hard that she might have forgotten how to speak, rendering a soft chuckle from his lips because the girl he endlessly dreamt of might still live after all; and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook has to put forth the effort to fill in the silence. 
“Why did you call me?” he asks plainly as he stands before her.
“Well, I didn’t know any of her friends except you…” he watches as she fidgets with her hands, gaze falling to the floor before returning to him, “are you going to visit her? I think the doctor should be okay with it if you’re her close friend.”
“No, Kai will be here soon,” he explains, finally bending down and placing the bottle of rubbing alcohol beside her on the bench. “I have other shit to attend to.”
“Oh, right,” she mumbles. The evident surge in annoyance amuses him that he just can’t quite wipe the smirk off his face. Turning her head, she continues, “you must’ve had plans with Ji-eun tonight. Sorry for the trouble.”
This is it. This is the moment that replayed on repeat like a broken tape in his dreams. This is his chance to mend the wounds he had inflicted upon the confessing girl who cried her eyes out on the cab home that one, indelible night. 
An uncomfortable silence fills the air with the exception of the unscrewing of a plastic bottle and the gentle return of the bottle against the metallic bench, which is then followed by another staggering silence. 
“We’re not that close and I’m not dating Ji-eun now.” 
The girl turns with the quirk of a brow, especially when she spots him kneeling before her with a soaked cotton ball. “W-Wait what? Wait, shit, ow.”
“I don’t talk to Jennie as much as you think,” he states as a-matter-of-factly and continues to gently pat the cotton against the wounds on her knees. After hesitantly placing a band aid over the wound—something he had never done for anyone else nor for himself who just “sucked it up”—he finally lifts his gaze to interlock with hers, observing intently as if to soak the reality of it all in now before the inevitable tape begins to replay for the near future. “I broke up with Ji-eun before you left.” 
“And...” she utters slowly, “why are you telling me this?” 
Just like in the pool on that one night, her challenging eyes never budge and neither do his.
“I thought the past you would’ve liked to know,” he states. Head tilting to the side as if to get a better look, he remarks, “shit, you don’t look away anymore, huh?”
“Why would I?” she quips, snorting and finally breaking contact to stare off to the side. “It didn’t matter if I knew or not. It’s not like we were a thing.”
“Really?” Jungkook hums, gathering the scraps of cotton and paper before standing to his feet with a genuine soft sigh. It’s hard to brush off the two year old sinking sensation in his chest for something so nonchalant, but he manages to do it like he always does with that stoic look on his unreadable face. “Cause I thought we were.” 
“What?” she gapes and he only gazes firmly back at her. “Why? It’s not like I… liked you.”
“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at the ceiling for a brief second, lips pursing as he concludes the cards on the table: the unapologetic albeit risky truth or the defensive albeit purposeless self-deception. Unbeknownst to her, Jungkook had all the cards in his hands. 
“Yeah,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze and shrugging, “and it’s not like you liked me.” 
Peering down at her from above, the boy’s crooked grin gradually settles into the silence along with the usual unreadable mien that he wears on the daily. “How would you know?”
Finally turning to return his gaze, she raises a brow at him before uncrossing her arms and standing to her feet. One step, two steps until she stands before him as close as she could recall on that night, she utters the one mutual truth of the night. 
“Because you never told me.”
The brief silence filled with tension seems to last an eternity, yet neither of the two could take their eyes off the other. A rush of thrill intermixed with panic floods his blood. His fight or flight system screams at him to obey the very laws he had followed all these years but his mind warns him that change is a necessity for this euphoric heat that radiates from this very moment. He’s never quite felt like this before: throat knotting and heart leaping nearly out of his chest. 
“Let’s—”
“—I need to catch the last train home,” she blurts, quickly taking a step back to distance themselves. 
Like a magnetic force that she is to him, her retraction almost pulls the breath from his lungs along with it.
“What?” he frowns, trying to steady his breath. “It’s 10 right now. My last ride is at midnight.” 
“Yeah, well mine is at 11 and I still have to walk there,” she shrugs indifferently to the entire ordeal—something that Jungkook takes to the heart. 
“What?” he mutters, “the station is right next to this hospital.” 
“What can I say? I’m a slow walker,” she prims, bowing her head and waving her hand to bid farewell. “Thanks for the band aid and all the help today. It was nice catching up. See y—I mean, take care.” 
He stands there in silence, too stunned by the constant turn of events. Distracted by the crestfallen weight in his chest elicited by his shattered hopes, Jungkook raises a hand in response to her pressed, upcurved lips. He can only mumble a seemingly indifferent, “...see ya.”
There she goes—as gracefully as she had reentered his life and as fleeting as she had left for a second time. All this time he knew his side of the story: growingly regretful, discovering a yearning he never knew was within his capabilities, and helplessly pondering over a past he could not change and wondering if she did the same. At some point in time, those feelings became a fragment in time and that person he wished she knew became a version of his present self. He moved on, he forgot the magnitude of the pain, but he never quite came to terms with what it all could have been. 
And all at once, the very moment he stands before her, the past him whomst he had perceived to be temporary comes flooding back into reality—flesh, fervent, and feelings of an immensity he could never have been prepared for—and if he were to be honest, he thought it would have been the same for her. 
He never really knew her side, after all; but at the very least, he desires to hear it from her, herself. She never missed him, she never thought of him from time to time, she never woke up from a dream of him so vivid that it felt so real that she was left with a melancholic loneliness in the air—those words would close the gap in his chest. 
If there’s one thing Jungkook had absolute control over at this very moment, it’s the last chapter of their shared novel in time and this is not the conclusion he imagined. 
Before he knew it, Jungkook finds himself sprinting down the train station. Across the coldly lit hallways, up and down the stairs instead of the ‘shitty, slow escalators,’ and cutting through the nearing midnight breeze of the platforms until the breeze finally brought him to the last unvisited area, his daunting final destination. 
Checking his watch, Jungkook’s chest heaves as he holds his hands to his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. It’s well past 11 now, nearing midnight, and he’s standing at the platform in the opposite direction of her new hometown. To the mere bystander, this platform really didn’t make any sense; but to Jungkook and his inkling, perhaps by a disheveled and desperate state, every twist and turn of the wind brought him right where he believes he belongs. 
Puffs of his breath mark the airy night as he watches his last ride pass by the rails before him. Every cart, every seat, he scans them all. No one. His heart sinks with each check, each flicker of the eyes, and he begins to curse himself for his state of delusion until the last cart of the train flashes by to reveal his finale. 
And as if by some sort of invisible string, life had somehow led him to her once again.
Because there she sits, across the wide yet surely crossable gap of the railway, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap, as if she had been waiting for him all this time. 
Jungkook stands there, stupefied by the works of fate, “why are you—”
“—hey, Jungkook!” she calls out to him, voice echoing across the vast, empty station. “What were you going to tell me back at the hospital?” 
Taken aback by her question, Jungkook chuckles to himself in utter amusement; and as if by the magic sifting through the night, the nearby tower bells ring across the remaining distance between the two at the precise stroke of midnight.
“Let’s date!”
The boy’s zestful holler resembles more like that of a cheerful proclamation, for the way he holds his hands to his lips before throwing them freely into the air garners a giggle from his spectator. His voice projection accompanies the bells, perhaps too softly and thereby physically undetected, but she could hear him nonetheless. 
“I liked you and I still like you so damn much, you dumbass!” 
After witnessing the boy’s courageous display, the words she’s been waiting for but never knew she needed until their paths crossed once again for a limitless nth time slips from her like second nature, almost as if she’s practiced it in her dreams all this time. Her loud proclamation, however, slips beneath the bells like an accompaniment to a ceremonious work of fate. 
The two of them stand on opposite sides of the platform, their confessions are far and wide and perhaps inaudible, but the dorky smiles adorning their lips as they gaze across at their inevitable final chapters serve to prove an undeniable fact. 
Whether by sheer will or by this invisible string, whether by his side or her side, the truth is: their eternities will be forever tied, forever golden.
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