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#i used to be able to sit down and whip out 5 pages of beautiful prose in one go
imafraidoftomorrow · 1 month
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How do you make the flowy flow creative juices come back
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20moonchild21 · 4 years
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๛Starting our Future
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Gif by @jeojungguk
Pairing: poly!BTS x girlfriend!reader
Warnings: hardcore fluff at the end, baby talk
Words: 2000+
๛匕he one where everything changes∙ꨄ
ㄚou sighed heavily, as you scrolled through all the new feed on your Instagram channel. Since you and the boys had the talk, it seemed like everyone around you wanted to provoke you by getting a baby first.
First, the boys' stylist and your close friend, Jina, announced that she and her husband would expect baby within the next weeks. Then your co-worker, Jisoo, found out three months ago, that she was pregnant with a small baby boy and lastly, your cousin dropped the baby-bomb 6 weeks ago.
Of course, you were more happy for all of them, but somehow it made you sad at the same time, that all these people were about to start a family by their own, a wish you had for a long time. So four weeks ago, you had decided to start to bring up the baby-topic to your 7 boyfriends.
They were surely speechless in the first moment. Of course, it hadn't been the first time the eighth of you talked about your future plans, but this time they knew it was serious to you. You were more passionated when you told them about your friends having babies, or how your eyes would tear up when you talked about how you wanted to take care of a baby of your own.
That was until your heard the sentence you hoped so badly to not hear: "We are on the peak of our careers"
Boom.
Like someone rammed his fist into your stomach.
You didn't show them how much this sentence hurt you. Instead, you smile and told them that it was fine, and that you could understand the dilemma they were in, which you indeed understood.
You knew how much the boys loved going on stage, performing in front of people and just enjoying their free life. So, you found yourself accepting the fact, the you would not carry your own baby within the next 5 years.
Why 5 years, you're probably asking yourself right now? Well, today was the day the boys would sign their contract to continue BTS for another 5 years.
5 years of concerts and world tours. 5 years of them staying up till late at night to work on new music. 5 year of them being not able to take care of a helpless baby.
Boom.
Like someone punched you into the stomach, again.
And harder.
It hurt, but you couldn't be mad at them. They had honestly told you their concerns and worries, and you had to respect this. After all, you couldn't force them to make you a baby, and after all, you didn't want to be the one, who had a baby and was sitting home alone, because you husbands were touring all over the world. And lastly, you didn't want to be the one who destroyed their dreams.
So you decide to wait for them to be ready, don't matter how long it would take, and even though you know it would be hard.
You sighed again while you turned off you phone, before throwing it onto the couch. A look at the clock told you, that you husbands of 2 years would be home every minute. You thought about cooking something special for the to celebrate their contract extension, but the you guessed that they would already had ordered a table at your favourite restaurant.
Mentally, you already strolled through the restaurant's menu, when you heard the familiar clicking of the front door, followed by friendly and joking voices.
Unwillingly, a smile came up you face. You had been together for more than five years now, and had been married for almost two years, but every time they walked into the room, it was like you saw them for the first time again. Their auras lighted up the room, and every time you ask yourself how you deserve to be their girl.
Jimin was the first one to spot you standing at the kitchen counter. The corners of his mouth rase up immediately, and his eyes formed the two beautiful half moons you madly fell in love with.
"Aaeeiinn (Honey)!" He called out before he closed the distance between the two of you, by wrapping his arms around your way smaller body and spinning you around.
You giggled and laughed wildly, as he sat your feet back down on the floor and covered your face in small kisses.  You weakly tried to pull away from him, even though the both of you knew that you enjoyed this kind of affection.
"Jimin, let go of her." You heard Jungkook's soft voice beside you. "I want to kiss her, too."
He kept nudging and pulling onto the fabric of your (Namjoon's) shirt, until Jimin finally let go of your waist. The taller boy slide his hands up onto your body, and placed them under your armpits to lift you up. Loosing the footing, your wrapped your legs around Jungkook's slim waist, and wrapped your arms around his neck.
„Hello, na sarang (my love)." He whispered as he nudged his nose against yours, giving you an Eskimo kiss. "I missed you today."
"I missed you too, Kookie." You whispered against his soft lips, before pressing your own lips onto his.
One by one, the boys entered the kitchen, giving you sweet kisses, hugs or lifts as their very own way of saying 'hello' and 'I missed you', but you loved everything about it.
While Jungkook would always lift you up into his arms, Namjoon was always the one to pull you closer to his chest and bending down towards you height, to kiss you with his soft lips, and Yoongi would be the one to cup your face in his larger hands to kiss you, while his thumbs would stroke your cheeks.
But somehow, something was odd about their kisses today. They were more...passionated and somehow too intensive for just saying 'hello'.
Those kind off kisses, you usually share when you are in bed together, or when you haven't seen each other in a very long time. You thought about it for a second, but then decided to not complain about it.
That was until you pulled away from Taehyung's lips, and saw all the other 6 boys looking at you with loving and smirking eyes.
"Heeeyy!" You called out when Tae suddenly sat you onto the counter top. You looked at all of them suspiciously. "What is going on with you, guys? Did you break something? Oh no....you did break something, don't you? What is...."
"Shhhh." You were stopped in you mid-sentence when Hobi stepped forward and put a finger to your lips. "Just listen to what we are going to tell you."
Your left eyebrow cocked up when Jin took both of your hands up to his hands and pressing a kiss onto them. He the turned around and grabbed something from Yoongi's hands, before pushing it into yours.
"What is this?" You asked confused as you looked at the pile of paper in your hands, that Jin had gestured you to read.
You shoved the numerus sheets of papers around your hands, trying to get what was written onto them. The first thing you read was the headline:
"Contract for the extension of 'Bangtan Sonyeondan' (2021-2026), under the leadership of BigHit Entertainment"
"Look at the last page." Jimin gestured for you, as you flick through the pages.
You felt your heart skip a beat, when you took a closer look at the last side of the contract, where you saw 10 lines, each one with a name under it.
The first 2 lines were signed by the two highest leader of the company, the third one was signed by the boys' manager, Sejin, and the last 7 lines were...not signed, but crossed?
It took you a while to understand what finally understand what that meant. You mouth hung open slightly, as you looked at your seven boyfriends in front of you.
"Why didn't you sign the contract?" You gasped shocked, while you looked again at the sheet of paper to make sure you weren't tricked by your brain. "Oh my god, you quit BTS? Why would you do this? Why did you...why? I don't understand. And why are you grinning like this?"
You mind was racing with questions. The boys just quit their future, their passion, and they were just smiling about it. You didn't know what was going on with them, because the boys who left the apartment this morning would have done anything to keep BTS together as long as possible.
"You are right, yeobo (darling)." Namjoon laid a hand on your knees as he looked into your eyes. "There will be no BTS anymore, and that's okay, because we want it like this."
"But why?" You whispered, laying your hand on top of his.
"The boys and I – " He pointed at the rest of your husbands, who had sat down around the kitchen counter. "We had many talks over the last few weeks. About you, and us, and our future and everything that includes our lives, together."
He emphasised the last word, as he winked his eyebrows at you.
"We just thought about what you said about us starting a family and finally settling
down – " You eyes lighted up as you realized what he was talking about. "We just – we were a little bit overwhelmed when you suddenly came up with you wanting to try for a baby, that we just rejected you. But we talked about this after our conversation and we – fuck – we want this too, jagi (darling)."
"But you love BTS." You whispered again, as a tear slide down your cheek, dripping onto your shirt.
"But we love you more." This time, it was Jin to talk. He stood up from the barstool he was sitting on, and made his way over to you. He then lifted his hand and whipped the streaming tear off of you cheeks. "We love what we're doing with BTS, but every story has to end at some point. We feel like it is the time right now to start a new chapter of our life, just the eighth of us."
He leaned down and pressed his lips onto your wet and salty lips. You were so overwhelmed in this moment, that all kind of emotions rushed through your body.
On the one hand, you wanted to be mad at them for giving up there careers for you and your outbursts of emotions, but on the other hand you just wanted to ripped their clothes off of their bodies and drag them to bed with you.
"Are you crazy?!" You suddenly spoke loudly at them (mostly at Jin because he stood in front of you), as you push Jin away from you. Somehow, you felt mad right now, so you began to slightly hit his chest with each following word. "You. Just. Quit. Your. Future. You. Idiots!"
When you stopped, you grabbed Jin by the collar of his shirt to pull him down until your lips smacked against each other.
"You are crazy." You whispered again as you leaned your forehead against his. "You idiots, I love you so much."
Big hands made their way over your hips from the side, when you suddenly were pulled away from the dark haired boy in front of you. You easily slide over the edge of the marbled counter top until the next boy stood between your legs.
"We love you more." Yoongi whispered as he captured your lips with his.
You were so caught up in the kiss, that you forgot the other boys around you.
"Jaaaagggiiii!" You heard Jimin and Jungkook whining beside you. "You wanted a baby! Let's make one. Now."
The maknae line was already pulling and grabbing the oversized shirt you were wearing, wanting to shove it over your head. You grew more and more impatient, as all the hands were roaming over your body, teasing all the right parts.
You disconnected your lips from Yoongi's and pushed him back slightly, before jumping off of the counter. You grabbed Taehyung by the hand and began to drag him behind you, as you made your way over to the bedroom, followed by the other boys.
You and your husbands spend the next weeks at home, making love whenever there was a free minute to bridge.
And well, what should you say, 12 months later, you held your firstborn baby-girl in your arms.
———————————————————————
So this is my first poly!BTS story. I think it is quite cute.
Let me know when you like it.
But don’t worry, BTS will still be existing until 2026, so we have still 5 years left to drool over them!
By the way: If you like The Maze Runner, you can visit my Wattpad account (20__moonchild__20). I am working on a story.
Stay healthy and safe!
Mꨄ
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cloudywriter · 3 years
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i never got to say i love you - 3
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honestly no idea how this actually worked out but i did find it in me to pick it up where i had left off. i’ll keep working on this story and see where it goes but i think i have a few ideas. it’s not very long but it’s a start ya know. it looks nice right now too but don’t worry the angst will be there soon. xoxo
masterlist, main masterlist, AO3
~~~
From that fateful night on, Feyre spent all of her free time in the art building’s studio not even returning to her dorm until long after dark. Quite frankly, she was a little embarrassed. She showed up outside of Mor’s door fully prepared to ask her to please quiet down only to be reminded of how ridiculously dressed she was and then to top it all off after that all she did was stare at Rhysand until she ran off stuttering like a fool which was so unlike her. 
She had a close call one afternoon in the dining hall but was able to make a speedy escape. 
Of course, the one time she decided she should work and study somewhere that wasn’t the art studio she ended up in the library. It had been fine until they strutted in, strolling down the center of the library as if it it was a catwalk. A group of girls next to her looked up at them, giggling and blushing, and quickly averted their gazes when Cassian shot them a swift wink. 
Feyre just kept her head down, trying to concentrate on the book of art history in front of her but just knowing he was in the same room as her, that she was in his vicinity had her mind unable to comprehend anything but that fact. Should she just stand up and leave? Would that draw more attention to herself? 
She quickly deduced she could not wiggle her way out of this one. 
Feyre propped up her textbook in hopes it would shield most of her face while she finished up the chapter and then she promised herself she could make her leave. 
The scraping of a chair across the tile floor informed her she was not going to be so lucky. She zoned in on the words in front of her, she was not going to look up.
“Art history,” a voice read aloud.
Feyre looked up and arched an eyebrow at the man in front of her. “Congrats, you can read.”
“Are you an art major?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.
“I could be or maybe I just enjoy a little art history. What are you majoring in making obvious observations?”
“Is that a new major? Because I’ll admit I’d love to take it up,” Cassian commented, crossing his arms and tucking his fist underneath his chin.
Feyre didn’t deign to respond instead she leaned further back in her chair once again focusing on the textbook. 
That was until the remaining members of the trio wandered up to Feyre’s table as well.
Cassian turned around a little and gestured to Feyre, “Hey guys, I’m just hanging with my girl, Fey. You know, the one who came to yell at us last week and then drooled over Rhys.”
Feyre slammed her book flat on the table, “I did not drool!”
Cassian shrugged, “I don’t know I think I had to whip up a few drops after you left.” 
Feyre just knew her bright red face betrayed her. 
Rhys only laughed, a deep, sultry laugh that sounded the way expensive velvet felt. “It’s alright Feyre, darling, I’m used to it obviously.”
“Oh, don’t call me darling,” Feyre sighed, burying her face in her hands. Rhysand only smirked in response, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk. 
Azriel and Cassian were hunched over, studying something on Cassian’s phone while Feyre desperately tried to pretend they weren’t there. Rhys kept on drumming his fingers, completely disrupting Feyre, to be fair she was dyslexic and she required quiet in order to sit and read. 
Feyre reached out her hand, holding a pencil, and wacked Rhysand’s fingers. “Stop it!” She whisper-yelled at him. 
“Feyre, darling, you wound me,” he purred, leaning back to slip his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. On almost anyone else Feyre would’ve thought the leather jacket looked stupid but it just worked on Rhysand. 
Rhysand was quiet for a moment when he spoke back up, “What does one do with an art degree?” 
Feyre lifted her eyes from the page in front of her, “Gods, you sound like my sister.”
Rhys cracked a smile at that, “I don’t mean it in a negative way, of course, just curious.” 
“I just want to spend the rest of my life doing something I love and I happen to love painting. I know it's not the standard but I wouldn’t be happy in a 9 to 5 desk job,” Feyre explained. 
Rhys nodded, he looked as though that statement had resonated with him.
At that moment both Cassian and Azriel stood up, “Hey, Rhys, Mor is texting us that she wants to meet at Rita’s for lunch. You coming?” 
Feyre glanced up, making direct eye contact with Rhys, “No,” he says in a husky voice, still looking into her eyes, “I think I’ll stay.” Feyre concentrates on her book again, a small, secret smile poised on her lips. Cassian and Azriel make their exit with knowing glances passed between them. 
Cassian and Azriel had only been gone for around five minutes, Feyre was trying her hardest to appear unruffled by Rhysand’s presence, her eyes glued to her book though they weren’t reading a thing. Rhys then broke the silence, “Are you hungry?” 
Feyre raised an eyebrow, “Are you?”
“Famished.”
“Strange, pretty sure I saw you turn down an invite to lunch a few minutes ago,” she replied simply. 
“I go to lunch everyday with Az, Mor, and Cas, but I don’t go to lunch with you, Feyre, darling. I thought I might switch it up.”
Feyre gave him her best unimpressed expression even though her heart was pumping in her chest. “You’re a shameless flirt.” 
“Well, what do you say?”
Despite Feyre finding Rhysand annoyingly attractive she was hesitant to accept his invitation. She had just transferred schools, she was in the market for some friends, but the haunting memory of her failed relationship crept in like a spider knitting a web of doubt. 
Feyre banished that spider, “Fine.”
+++
Rhys had taken Feyre to a cute little coffee shop that served the best sandwiches in Prythian as Rhysand had claimed. Feyre didn’t have any room to disagree. Their conversation came easy, it felt natural, not stiff like the beginning of most budding friendships. They argued, joked, and even poked fun at each other the entire time. 
Rhysand continued with his brazen, flirty attitude and persistent usage of the endearment ‘darling’ much to Feyre’s dismay. It was irritating but charming, it just seemed to be wholly Rhys. 
Now, Rhys and Feyre were walking side by side back towards the dorm buildings. The conversation proceeded to flow easily. When they were about to enter the courtyard adjoining the separate dorm buildings, Rhys flopped onto a bench just a little ways off the sideway. Feyre raised her eyebrow at him. 
“Sit, darling. All this walking after eating and I’ll get a cramp,” he reasoned. 
Feyre rolled her eyes, it certainly wasn’t that but she entertained him. She took a spot a little bit down the bench from him and leaned her head back, staring up at the tree overhead and the afternoon sun beaming through its leaves. 
A question popped into Feyre’s mind and she pivoted towards Rhys, “What are you majoring in?”
Rhys’s beautiful face turned into a grimace as he turned his attention from the same tree back to her. 
“Business,” he finally supplied.
“You seem disappointed by that,” Feyre commented. Rhysand looked away as his head bobbed in a noncommittal yes. 
“I wanted to major in English, really. I love books, stories, even poetry as mind boggling as it may be sometimes,” Rhys let out a small chuckle, mostly to himself. “I love language too, the way you can manipulate and articulate it, it’s remarkable. I would be more than content to pour over books the rest of my life or share my passion for stories and language with others.”
“Then why do business?” Feyre knew she was probably prying but her curious nature always got the best of her. 
“My father,” Rhys admitted. “He’s a businessman you know, convinced it's always the way to go whether you truly enjoy it or not. Doesn’t matter if you’re happy if you have a stable job and are making good money in his eyes. Not to mention, he demands I work with him at his company after school. I lost the will to fight him on it, just easier to appease him at this point. Books will still be there.”
Feyre let the words hang in the air between them. She knew, of course, the feeling of being unsupported but still her family hadn’t forced her hand. Feyre reached out, resting her hand lightly over Rhysand’s in silent support while still giving him the option to pull away. 
He didn’t. He wrapped her small hand in his own and turned his head toward her. 
The wind tousled his black hair back and forth with each turn of its direction. In the sun’s light his eyes were bright, framed by thick lashes. Feyre wished she could freeze time and pull out her paints to capture the image. The overwhelming desire to do so took Feyre by surprise. Since leaving for Velaris that deep yearning to paint a particular scene, a moment of inspiration so strong it paralyzed her, hadn’t been prominent. Truly, it hadn’t been there for a while. She usually had to force out a drawing or painting for an assignment. 
Then Rhys gave her a gentle smile, it looked how Feyre imagined touching clouds would feel. It brought a funny feeling to her stomach. 
“Do what makes you happy, Rhys, always,” she added so quietly she thought her words might’ve been blown away by the breeze before they even reached his ears. 
Yet, Rhys squeezed her hand the smallest bit. 
~~~
well this is for you @maybekindasortaace​
let me know if you wanted to be added to my feysand taglist or my rowaelin taglist or both, ya know 
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lexa-lives-in-us · 4 years
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Yasha finding out about what really is going on behind the scenes with the A.O.I (Angel of Irons) Organization. Break my heart please.
Part 13 of ???
Read 1 - 2 - 3 - 4  - 5 - 6  - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12
Dairon doesn’t get the full story until lunch time rolls around.
Caduceus, Veth and Marion whip out a full three course meal in the span of one hour, and Dairon has finally the chance to see the last room of the base.
They limp towards the kitchen, ignoring Beau’s offers to help, and crash on the nearest chair, taking a good look around.
It’s a poorly lit, big room, with stoves, fridge and countertop across the opposite wall from one of the two doors. Dairon sees Veth disappear behind another, and they make a note of exploring it later. In the middle of the room, a long table is already filled with silverware, food and drinks. It can host up to fifteen people, but the Nein plus Marion crowd the side where Dairon is already sitting.
Marion meets their eyes and Dairon averts their gaze, barely suppressing a smile.
The woman takes a seat next to them, and Dairon gets immediately kicked in the shin. When they look up at her, Marion is looking straight ahead with a smirk on her face.
This woman.
***
They devour the food in silence, everyone too absorbed in their own plate, still too exhausted and recovering from last night to dare speaking.
Dairon themselves barely looks up from the delicious meal, too famished to partake in even the smallest of conversations.
Only when every dish is cleared and Caduceus is readying the kettle, Dairon sits back.
“So. Does anyone want to explain?” they ask.
The Nein look around the table, exchanging a series of glances. Jester clears her voice.
“Remember the A of I?”
Dairon nods, but next to them, Marion shakes her head.
“Not going to lie,” Dairon adds then. “I can use a refresher on what you guys did. I only remember it involved Yasha and then, of course, all of you.”
They all nod, the mood suddenly very dark.
Marion reaches for Dairon’s hand from under the table, and Dairon can’t negate that request. Their fingers intertwine.
Above the table, though, Beau is doing the same with Yasha. Their hands join, and Beau looks at her wife and her wife only. Yasha smiles at her and nods. She thanks softly Caduceus as he places a steaming mug in front of her, then takes a deep breath.
As Caduceus gives a cup to everyone, Yasha starts recounting.
Yasha sticks her head around the corner, making sure that nobody is present. It’s not like she’s never been down in the basement, but it’s also not one of her favorite places, and it’s most certainly somewhere she should be without a specific order. She is ready to lie, of course, but she would really rather she didn’t have to.
She is a terrible liar after all.
Obann doesn’t keep her around for her charisma, that is for sure.
Yasha rounds the corner, hand near the leg holster, ready to whip out her weapon at any suspicious movement.
Luckily for her, the hallways seem to be empty.
She can’t hear a single sound coming from either direction, so she keeps walking, and finally uses the key she’s borrowed from one of the others to open the door of the record room.
She sneaks inside, locking the door behind her and turning the light on.
The neon lights come to life with a buzz, illuminating the rows of shelves with a sick green ray.
She roams around them for a few minutes, trying to find a sign that tells her where the files starting with N are.
Finally, she notices a very faint labeling system at the bottom of each row, and then it’s a matter of minutes before she finds a bow with NT-NZ scribbled on the front.
She extracts the box, hesitating for just a moment.
She shouldn’t be here.
She should be upstairs, where Obann and the others are resting, or getting ready and trained for the next mission. Not down here. Not sneaking around like a criminal, looking over files that could-
Files that could either confirm that Beauregard Lionett is indeed the enemy or that could instead destroy every single certainty she’s had of her adult life.
Yasha bites her lower lip.
Because one thing is unfortunately very true.
She doesn’t remember her childhood. At all. She remembers coming to terms with a sort of amnesia, a result of having hit her head too hard during training, or during a mission, but that is pretty much it.
Obann has told her she is being with the Angels of Iron since birth, where she has being trained and educated, loved and cared for. And Yasha has never really questioned anything. She simply does what Obann tells her to do, and although sometimes some mission is not exactly her cup of tea, Obann has always been very clear and reassuring in telling her that they’re doing it for the best of causes.
But Yasha isn’t as dense as her companions believe her to be.
And Beau.
Because there is Beau.
Beautiful, strong, smart Beauregard Lionett.
A CIA Agent.
And Yasha isn’t well versed in American politics or whatever, but she’s pretty sure the CIA is supposed to be the good guys. Or something like that. But Obann hates them. Obann has told her to eliminate any CIA threat on sight.
Yasha doesn’t understand.
Because Beau has talked to her. They’ve talked a lot, actually. And Beau has told her that the Angels of Iron are not, in fact, good. Quite the opposite, really.
And Beau... Beau has kissed her. Beau has looked at her in a way that Yasha only remembers being looked at once, although the details are still blurry.
There’s a woman, a young girl, in her past, that Yasha doesn’t remember. She has a name, but she can’t remember a face. Zuala, the name is. She’s asked Obann about her, but he’s just shrugged and told her to move on.
And Yasha had.
But now she can’t.
Not anymore.
Because Beau has pushed her away from danger, Beau has almost gotten a bullet for her, no longer than a week ago, and Yasha can’t stand the idea of not knowing anymore.
So she places the box on the ground, sits cross legged on the cold concrete floor and finds her file.
Nydoorin, Yasha.
It’s a thick one.
Yasha takes a deep breath, then opens it.
The first page is a birth certificate, in Russian. Born in Novosibirsk, Siberia from [REDACTED] Nydoorin and [REDACTED] Nydoorin. Yasha blinks. She presses a finger on the black rectangular lines, where her parents names have been erased, possibly forever.
Swallowing a lump of tears and bile, Yasha flips the page. It a report, once again with several sections erased, with the Angels of Iron’s letterhead.
Yasha skims through the document, of several pages, noticing how entire sections seem to have been cancelled off.
“The child is above average. The vitals are [REDACTED]. The child appears to be healthy enough for the project. [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] Nydoorin have refused to sign the child off to the organization. [REDACTED] might be necessary.”
“Obtainment of the child is an asset.”
“Approval from [REDACTED] has been received.”
“Proceed with obtainment.”
Yasha remembers witnessing a car crash, one day, a few years back. She remembers how horrible it had been, to see the bodies burn and the people scream without being able to do anything to help them.
It’s exactly how she feels now.
She wants to close everything and run, but she can’t stop reading.
She flips another page, and a set of pictures clipped to a paper appear in front of her.
One is a picture of two adults, a man and a woman, smiling in a hospital room with a newborn baby in their arms. The woman has gentle features, gentle eyes, big hands, large shoulders and long, wavy hair. The man is very tall, with an athletic build, and a nose that Yasha sees in the mirror every day.
The baby is asleep, a small fist curled and closed on her mother’s thumb.
They look peaceful. Happy.
A tear falls on the picture, and Yasha wipes it away slowly, hesitating with her finger on the shape of her father’s face.
She forces herself to move on and look at the other pictures.
A child, with long, dark black hair collected into a braid, stands next to two more girls, one of them with red hair, the other with dark brown ones. Three year old Yasha’s eyes are focused. Her little body is not all that little, compared to the two other children, standing tall above them.
They all seem to be wearing the same uniform.
Other pictures show Yasha’s growth, in that same uniform, and picture her fighting other girls, training in both hand to hand and weapon combat.
The reports the pictures are attached to talk about her.
“Agent Y is skilled.”
“Agent Y mastered the course.”
“Agent Y is fit and ready for combat.”
Yasha keeps going through pictures and files, and every report she reads confirms her suspicions, confirms what Beau has told her about the Angels of Iron.
She starts to see a recurring pattern.
A woman, next to her or behind her or in front of her. A woman with gentle eyes, dark hair and a shit eating grin. Yasha knows immediately who this girl is. As she goes back to the first picture, she recognizes her as one of the two other toddlers in uniform.
“Zuala...” Yasha whispers.
Yasha reads everything once more, looking for signs. And she finds them.
“Agent Y and Agent Z work well together.”
“Agent Z has punched another Agent who was making fun of Agent Y. Investigation required.”
“Agent Y and Agent Z have been found within Agent Y’s quarters, in a compromising situation.”
“Agent Y is a precious asset. Agent Z has been removed from the project.”
Attached to that one file, a single picture.
A black bag, with a dark skinned arm poking out of it. In the background, Yasha sees herself, spine ramrod straight, no emotion on her face.
Yasha stares at the picture, and presses a palm against her mouth, to prevent...
To prevent her to scream, or to puke, or both. She’s not exactly sure.
She stares and stares, and details form back into her memory. Details of Zuala. Of nights together. Of days together. They’re blurred and they’re vague, but they’re memories.
She exhales, trying to swallow a surge of vomit into her throat, and flips the page. It’s a medical report.
She skims through it almost in a haze.
An injection. A cocktail of drugs. An experiment.
Memories being wiped.
A new life. A new Agent. A new Yasha.
More obedient, now that she doesn’t remember. More loyal, now that she has being cleared of distractions.
The last page is a picture in colors.
It’s recent, way too recent. Yasha remembers this one.
It’s herself, her recent self. And next to her, staring with adoring eyes...
“Beauregard...”
Underneath, a few words.
“Possible distraction. Liability. Kill on sight.”
Yasha slams the folder close.
Tears have dried on her face, but it doesn’t matter. She might not know everything, but she knows enough.
It’s time to go.
Silence falls into the kitchen.
The Mighty Nein are all looking down into their mugs, pensive expressions on their faces. They all know the story.
Beauregard’s hand is still on Yasha’s, and her free one is clenched onto a fist. She hasn’t looked away from Yasha’s face for a single moment during the whole story.
Dairon can see the same rage, the same horror they feel, reflected on their kid’s face.
Marion’s hand has been squeezing theirs painfully for the whole duration, and when Dairon turns to look at the woman, they see tears streaming down her perfect face.
“Yasha.” she says, broken voice and broken soul. “My child.”
Yasha closes her eyes for a moment at the word, a single tear escaping her.
She grabs Beau’s hand with both of hers, and takes a deep breath.
A soft voice speaks up from the corner of the table, making both Dairon and Marion turn.
“We found more intel, a few weeks ago.” Jester says, all her usual cheerfulness now gone. “We’ve been trying to dismantle the project for years, now. It’s not easy. They have connections everywhere. Mafia and Ndrangheta in Italy. The Cartel in Mexico. Triad, China. You name it. They’re everywhere.”
Veth takes over.
“So we started setting up traps. All over. We’ve been trying to collect intel about customers, buyers, sellers, anything. We started suspecting on someone who was once seen with one of Marion’s old... Clients.”
Marion is quicker than Dairon to understand.
“The Gentleman.” she says, in a whisper. Her hold on Dairon’s hand loosens just slightly.
Jester nods.
“I talked to him. He didn’t seem to have anything to do with them, this time around. But we didn’t trust that he would just leave it alone, so we had Beau and Yasha at the Hotel, as security. We were going to tell you, Mama, as soon as possible. But then...”
Everyone turns to look at Dairon.
“Then the CIA got wind of a possible meeting of drug lords in Paris, and the Gentleman’s name was made.” Dairon continues, finally piecing everything together. “I was sent in to gather intel and protect the source. Marion, we assumed.”
Everyone around the table nods.
Beau, finally turning away from Yasha, places her palm on the wooden table.
“As you can see, Dairon... We have work to do. You are welcome to stay or to go, once you’re feeling better. But we’re going to do this with or without you.”
The table turns to look at them.
Dairon looks at Marion, and the woman blinks, her beautiful face pale as a ghost.
Dairon turns to look at Beau.
"I’m in.”
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lauralestrange7 · 3 years
Text
𝓐𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓶 | 𝓢𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓾𝓼 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴| (Part 6)
The motto of the Lestrange family is "𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓿𝓾𝓼 𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓾𝓶 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓿𝓲 𝓷𝓸𝓷 𝓮𝓻𝓾𝓲𝓽" which would when literally translated in English would mean "a crow will not pull out the eye of another crow." Referring to the complete solidarity amongst a group of like-minded people regardless of the consequences or condemnation.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9 
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
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After getting dressed Laura headed out through the nearly empty corridor, the insides of the Great Hall mostly consisted of first and second years. She sat down on her regular seat on the Slytherin table, serving herself some breakfast before taking a book out. After a while, as Laura was having her breakfast whilst reading, Regulus sat down beside her. She realized his presence alright but didn't acknowledge it, so Regulus cleared his throat in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence.
 "I had to work on a few assignments I had quite a lot left to do as I hadn't been able to get much done during the week. I was in the library and I lost track of time" he said as Laura flipped onto the next page of whatever book she was reading and with only an "Oh". Regulus looked down after his fail attempt and then said "Will you let me make it up to you though? I know I haven't been around much" he said again his eyes looking at Laura pleadingly. The girl looked at him from her book noticing her best friend's face was a mix of guilt and hope "What do you mean?" she asked trying not to sound too eager. "Oh well we can go to Hogsmeade and I will get you anything you want from Honeydukes even if it costs me all my saved allowance from the last eight years," he said Laura couldn't help but smile at her best friend's words after all he was just a fourteen year old trying to live up to his family's impossible expectations. "Please?" he asked again and Laura closed her book "Fine," she said and trying her best not to smile seeing the latter's face light up "Great!" he said and stood up as he started rushing away and then jogged back to where she was sitting "I'll meet you in twenty minutes then?" he said "Fifteen minutes and outside the corridor, you don't have to dress up for me princess" Laura teased. Regulus rolled his eyes as he walked out of the great hall. Laura finished her breakfast smiling and then she went to her dorm and put on a varsity jacket and headed outside. As she walked towards the corridor she saw Regulus waiting anxiously wearing a pair of dress pants a white shirt under a green sweater. Laura walked towards him smiling as she gently tapped his shoulder "Shall we?" she said as Regulus looked back at her and nodded smiling.
Laura eagerly looked around, Hogsmeade sure looked different than it did three years ago. Regulus on the other hand used to go to Hogsmeade every once in a while, so he seemed to know his way around as he escorted her to Honeydukes. Laura stared at the brightly colored store it smelled like sweets and candies and taffies. When they walked in Laura could swear there had to be over a thousand different kinds of treats. "So what do you want?" Regulus asked smirking quite proud of himself, Laura looked at him then at the various ranges of sweets to choose from. After a lot of thinking, she decided to just go with a good ol' chocolate bar, "I'll take a chocolate bar" Laura told her best friend who was busy rummaging through a shelf of chocolate frogs. Regulus' head whipped around as a hand clapped on his shoulder "Hey brother, fancy seeing you here" Sirius Black beamed at the latter. His friends were busy looting the store, Regulus shrugged his brothers hand off with a stern look on his face. The smile was wiped away from Sirius' face, but only momentarily as he continued, his sly smile was visible once again "Oh, looks like you have a date" he said gesturing his head towards Laura who had her hands crossed as she rolled her eyes. "Not a date," Regulus said through gritted teeth as he quickly paid for Laura's chocolate bar and looked at her motioning towards the door. She sighed as she opened the door and walked out Regulus walked out too. "Sorry about that," he mumbled looking at his feet as he continued to walk away from the stores. Laura shook her head "Nothing for you to be sorry about" she said, Regulus, however, continued to look down. In an effort to cheer him up Laura said "How about we get some butterbeer?" Regulus looked at her "Oh okay" he said now changing his direction and starting to walk towards The Three Broomsticks. Seeing that the suggestion didn't cheer him up as Regulus continued to look down and sulk, Laura groaned "Good Salazar, would you just smile" she said nudging him with her shoulder. Regulus rolled his eyes then flashed a cheeky grin "There, happy?" he asked "Very," Laura said laughing as they both walked inside the store. Which was very packed but they managed to get an empty table towards the back. Regulus ordered two butterbeers then sat down, Laura wanted to talk to him about his brother but she knew it was something he was not very comfortable talking about. So she just fidgeted with her fingers, Regulus was silent too there was some tension building up. "Reg?" asked Laura as the latter hummed in response, his eyes fixated outside the window. Laura looked out too, and what a beautiful scene it was; golden, red and orange leaves scattered around the ground, happy faces could be spotted all over the place smiling carelessly. Laura sighed looking at Regulus, who was too focused on the outside to notice, she remembered clearly how they had first met.
Want to read it on Wattpad? No problem here you go
All the characters (except Laura Lestrange) and places mentioned in this story belong to J K Rowling. So I’ve posted a few chapters of this stories on Wattpad, but I’ve got a lot of it already written down, I’ll try to post any new chapters on Tumblr as soon as I can. Please reblog, it would be very appreciated and my requests are open.
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kk095 · 4 years
Text
Sideswiped
*here's my latest story! There may be some typos and additional editing I need to do, but I hope everyone enjoys!*
Rachel was a 34 year old white woman with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and was of average height and had a slim build. Life seemed to be going pretty well for Rachel; she was recently engaged to her boyfriend of 3 years, and the two were planning both a wedding, and buying a house together. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for Rachel this morning.
She worked at a mortgage company downtown, and the commute was about 30 minutes each way. This morning, she had an important meeting to attend. While making the drive to the office, an SUV merged onto the highway without signaling or looking, sideswiping Rachel’s passenger side. Rachel wasn’t immediately injured, but she lost control of her car and slammed head-on into a guardrail. Her neck whipped forward, causing a whiplash injury. Her chest struck the steering column before being blown back by both the impact and the airbag. A loud crunch was heard from the car striking the guardrail. One of the windows broke, which sent a handful of glass shards flying around, which struck Rachel in her right cheek, and above her right eyebrow.
After the crash took place, traffic came to a screeching halt on the highway and EMS was alerted. The vehicle that struck Rachel fled the scene, but an eyewitness took a picture of the vehicle on their cell phone, which had a clear view of the license plate.
In the coming minutes, emergency services arrived on scene. Police helped direct traffic, while also talking to the witness who took the cell phone picture. The medics went up to Rachel’s mangled vehicle and began their initial assessment. Rachel complained of chest pain, pain during inhalation, neck pain, and feeling cold. EMS placed a c-collar on the woman and placed her on a backboard, then took her into a nearby ambulance. Once in the ambulance, Rachel’s top was snipped off, only sparing her black bra. There was apparent redness and swelling on her chest from the steering wheel injury. IV access was able to he obtained on scene, and a 5 lead ECG with portable heart monitor was set up. On scene, Rachel’s vital signs were BP 79/42, heart rate 126bpm, and oxygen saturation was down to 93%. The medics hung a bag of ringer’s lactate to combat her low blood pressure and to begin fluid resuscitation, and they started her on an o2 mask with high flow oxygen. During auscultation, distant heart sounds could be heard, along with diminished breath sounds on the right side. The ECG showed an alternating tall-short QRS complex.
During transport, Rachel was drifting in and out of consciousness, and began groaning in pain. The steering wheel injury caused fractures to a few ribs and her sternum, but based on her vital signs and other observations, she was likely experiencing a major thoracic injury. Rachel remained semi conscious during transport, and asked the medics to call her fiancée, to which they told her the ER will call him as soon as they get there.
A short while later, Rachel arrived at the emergency department. She was taken out of the ambulance and wheeled into the trauma bay while one of the medics updated a few members of the trauma team. Once in the trauma room, Rachel was transferred onto the table. A few nurses snipped off Rachel’s pants, and removed her shoes, leaving her barefoot and almost completely nude. The trauma team started Rachel on blood transfusions and ordered trauma labs. The next step was to order a chest x-ray and a FAST scan.
The chest x ray showed multiple rib fractures on the right side, along with a sternal fracture. There was also evidence of a ride sided hemothorax, and possible cardiac herniation into the right side of the thoracic cavity. The echocardiogram showed no evidence of cardiac tamponade, but that’s typically common in cardiac herniation cases since the pericardium is usually completely ruptured. However, the exact location of the ruptured pericardium couldn’t be found, so it was possible the tear was on the side, or back of the heart. In the meantime, the trauma team decided to order a chest tube placement on the right side, page radiology for a portable CT scan, and page cardiothoracic surgery for a consultation.
The right sided chest tube placement began promptly. The area of Rachel’s 6th rib on the right side was sterilized with betadine and an injection of local anesthetic was injected to numb the skin. A 3cm incision was made in the skin anterolaterally, which is just anterior of the mid axillary line. The underlying tissue was incised further so the pleural space could be sufficiently exposed. With the proximal end of the chest tube clamped off by a Kelly clamp, it was advanced into the small cut and a tunnel was made so the tube could be inserted deep enough to properly drain the blood that was squeezing Rachel’s right lung. Rachel yelped loudly, feeling the tube being forced into her chest while she was wide awake. Once the tube was correctly placed, a large amount of blood and air shot out of the tube, splattering all over one of the resident’s trauma gowns.
After the chest tube was placed, the trauma team had to hang another bag of blood products to compensate for the blood loss that was being experienced. Following the additional blood products being hung from the rapid infuser, radiology showed up with the portable CT scanner. The scan took several minutes, but her head, chest, abdomen, and pelvis were all scanned. The head, abdomen, and pelvis came back clear, but the chest portion of the CT scan confirmed cardiac herniation with a 12cm blowout of the posterior pericardium. The heart was sitting outside of its fibrous casing, and the pulmonary veins were stretched out, and possibly damaged or partially detached from either the left atrium or the right lung, but the scan’s findings were inconclusive when it came to that aspect of Rachel’s injuries. But shortly after the CT scan, Rachel’s vital signs began to deteriorate rapidly.
Rachel’s breathing was slowing down, and her eyes were wide open, with a scared look present on her face. Due to blood loss, both her BP and heart rate were dropping rapidly. Since her breathing was slowing down, the trauma team elected to intubate her for airway management purposes. Before intubation began, Rachel gasped dramatically a few times. Her eyes opened wide before letting out a calm exhale and going limp on the table. No pulse was felt, and PEA ran across the heart monitors, so rapid sequence intubation and resuscitation efforts commenced at the same time.
Up by Rachel’s head stood one of the residents, trying their best to navigate a 7.0 ET tube into the attractive blonde’s airway. Just a few feet away stood a nurse who was pumping the 34 year old’s chest repeatedly. A cracking noise could be heard during CPR because of the rib and sternum fractures that Rachel sustained in the accident. With life saving efforts ongoing, a nurse injected epinephrine and atropine into Rachel’s IV. Shortly after the drugs were administered, the ET tube was placed successfully and held in place with a blue tube holder.
Over the following few minutes, Rachel received deep, strong chest compressions. Her chest caved in rhythmically while her b cup breasts jiggled around. Her belly rippled and bounced outwards from the residual force of the compressions she received. At the 3 minute mark of the code, the trauma team pushed the next rounds of epinephrine and atropine into Rachel’s IV in an attempt to obtain a shockable rhythm. About 45 seconds after the meds were pushed, coarse v-fib appeared on the monitors. The defibrillator paddles whined as they were gelled and charged to 200 joules. After a cycle of CPR, the paddles were pressed up against Rachel’s chest and a shock was delivered once everyone stood clear. Her body trembled on the table in response to shock #1, but the monitors still displayed v-fib. A nurse immediately resumed strong, forceful compressions on the attractive blonde while the paddles were recharged to 300j. The paddles were pressed up against Rachel’s chest a moment later, and shock #2 was delivered. Rachel’s lifeless body squirmed on the table in response to the jolt of electricity while her beautiful blue eyes stared lifelessly above. V-fib still persisted after shock #2, so a cycle of CPR was performed while the defib paddles were recharged to 360. Once the paddles were ready, they were placed onto Rachel’s chest again, and the 3rd shock was delivered. Rachel’s body shuddered and flopped in response to the increased intensity of the 3rd shock. But like before, this shock failed to shock the woman out of v-fib. The paddles were recharged to 360 and placed back onto Rachel’s chest, and the next shock was delivered seconds later. Rachel’s feet leapt up just above the table before crashing back down half a second later, wrinkling the soles of her size 7 feet.
This 4th shock converted Rachel to sinus bradycardia, so ROSC was able to be achieved after a downtime of 5 minutes and 8 seconds. Rachel regained semi consciousness seconds after her heart was restarted. “hey there, welcome back! You gave us a scare!” one of the nurses said. Rachel’s eyes wandered around the room, and then stared at the breathing tube and EKG electrodes on her chest. Her torso was then covered up with a blanket before she was wheeled out of the trauma room and up to the OR. Rachel stared at the one nurse who talked to her as soon as she regained consciousness. Rachel had a confused look on her face, wondering what had happened in the last handful of minutes.
In the following minutes, she was transported to the OR and prepped for surgery. She continued drifting in and out of consciousness, and her vitals were still a bit unstable. Her BP was 60 over palp and her heart rate was down to 41bpm.
Once in the OR, Rachel was moved onto the OR table. With her unstable vital signs, the anesthesiologist had some concerns about her low heart rate and blood pressure, so a round of vasopressors were pushed in order to increase her bp and heart rate in order to start the surgery in the next few minutes.
After those few minutes came and went, Rachel was anesthetized and the emergency surgery began. Her chest was covered in betadine in order to sterilize the area and limit Post-OP infection. A cut was made in her 5th intercostal space, extending across the entirety of her anterior chest. Next, the underlying tissue and fat was separated, creating a space in between the ribs on both sides of her chest, while also exposing the sternum. The next step was dividing the sternum horizontally with a sternal saw. The saw made a high pitched grinding sound as it sawed through Rachel’s breastbone with relative ease. After the sternum was divided, a finochietto rib spreader was placed into the middle of her chest with the bar facing downwards towards her belly. The knobs on the spreader were turned, forcing her chest to open. Upon entry to the chest via a clamshell thoracotomy, there was a rush of blood. Suction was applied in order to restore a line of sight for the surgical team. Blood kept leaking from her chest and accumulating on her torso and on the table. It was decided at that point to place a 2nd chest tube for additional drainage. The 2nd chest tube was placed over the following minute or so, and the surgical attending was sprayed with blood upon placement of the chest tube. The 2nd chest tube was able to create better visualization of the thoracic cavity, but blood loss was becoming a problem. 2 units of O+ PRBC's were hung from the rapid infuser and a dose of rhogam was injected intravenously since Rachel’s vital signs were once again on the brink of becoming dangerous. The surgeon worked on locating the source of the bleed over the coming minutes while the rest of the OR team did everything in their power to maintain Rachel’s vitals; but as time went on, that became more and more of an uphill battle. The bleeding continued over the next 45 minutes or so, and at that point, Rachel went into pulseless bradycardia. The surgeon paused the surgery to begin internal massage on the 34 year old. A wet, rhythmic, squishing sound was heard while internal compressions were being performed. 0.5mg atropine and 2 micrograms/kg dopamine were pushed intravenously as part of the pulseless bradycardia ACLS algorithm. The aorta was cross clamped near the diaphragm, and a clamp was placed on the right pulmonary hilum since a bleed in the right lung was within the realm of possibilities.
4 minutes came and went until a shockable rhythm was obtained by the OR team. The internal paddles were called for and inserted into Rachel’s chest and a 10 joule shock was delivered. Her torso flopped on the table in response to the shock, but she still remained in v-fib. A 20 joule shock was then delivered. A dull, wet thunk was heard after the shock was delivered but once again, there was no change whatsoever. The internal paddles were called for once again and charged to 30j for the 3rd shock. The large, spoon shaped paddles were placed back into Rachel’s chest, and shock #3 was delivered. Rachel’s toes curled at the other end of the table, showing off the soft, prominent wrinkles in the soles of her feet. However, this shock sent her into PEA. Epinephrine and atropine were pushed into her IV and internal massage continued on Rachel.
At the 10 minute mark of the code, the surgical team was able to obtain a shockable rhythm once again, so the internal paddles were readied for the next shock. The blonde’s arms and head twitched for a moment before returning to their previous position, but the shock was unsuccessful. Her heart twitched in the doctor’s hands as a cycle of internal massage was performed before the next shock. Next, a 30j shock was delivered, making a dull, wet thunk in the OR. No change was present on the monitors, so another 30j shock was delivered shortly after. This shock unfortunately sent Rachel back into PEA. The surgical attending injected a dose of adrenaline directly into Rachel’s heart, hoping to stimulate the cardiac muscle.
The code droned on and on, eventually reaching the 20 minute mark of the code with Rachel deteriorating to asystole. Her heart sat still in the surgeon’s hands as they manually pumped her heart, desperately trying to bring the woman back to life.
The surgical team worked diligently on Rachel over the following few minutes, maxing her out on drugs, and performing internal massage. At the 25 minute mark of the code, Rachel’s pupils were checked and were fixed and dilated, while her heart sat completely motionless inside her chest cavity. Despite everyone’s best efforts, the code was stopped and time of death was called at 9:17AM.
The monitors were switched off and the ambu bag was detached. Next, the rib spreader and EKG electrodes were removed, along with the rest of the equipment. Her body laid limp and cold to the touch while her chest was closed up by the surgical residents. Lastly, a toe tag was placed and her body was covered up before being sent to the hospital morgue.
A short while later, Rachel’s fiancée was given the terrible news about what happened. Later on in that day, the person that sideswiped Rachel was apprehended for fleeing the scene of an accident. The suspect faced criminal charges, but was also sued civilly by Rachel’s fiancée and parents, and settled for an undisclosed amount.
Rachel’s autopsy revealed that she died from cardiac herniation, which disconnected the pulmonary veins from the right lung, explaining the massive hemothorax and blood loss she experienced.
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ruewrites · 4 years
Text
We’re Blooming Together Chapter 2: Your Secret
AO3
Ship: Solomon/Asmo
Word Count: 2338
Warnings: None
Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3-Chapter 4-Chapter 5-Chapter 6-Chapter 7-Chapter 8-Chapter 9-Chapter 10-Chapter 11-Chapter 12 
Asmo couldn’t decide if he thought Solomon’s lips would be rough or soft. Honestly, either one would be fine. What ultimately mattered was he was a good kisser. Of course, Asmo didn’t know really, but he’d heard from his past girlfriends.  He’d heard more from them as well. He dreamed of him every now and again, sometimes they were odd but other times he could feel his lips on his own, and how his hands felt on his hips. Not that it meant much. Dreams were dreams, and Solomon wasn’t interested in anything more than friends. Of course Asmo had had a crush on him, one that lasted for a long time, and it had been bad enough that he spent hours sobbing in his room when he got his first girlfriend. Slowly he got over it and started dating other people. Guys, girls, didn’t matter. Yeah he still had a little thing for Solomon, but it didn’t mean much in the long run. 
Solomon just wanted to be friends, and that was it. 
Still didn’t stop the dreams. They were always simple, Solomon’s hands traveling up his shirt and gently brushing against his hips, light kisses going up his neck  until he could whisper sweet words of affirmation and love in his ear, and then his lips on his-
And then a blaring alarm.
Asmo groaned as he rolled over in bed, hand roaming the counter until he found his phone and was able to turn off the offending noise. With a shudder, he wrapped the blankets around himself tighter. Getting up would be a hassle today. It was cold inside and out and Asmo wanted nothing more than to stay in his warm bed for a little longer, but he had a routine to keep. He slipped his feet into the slippers he kept neatly next to his bed. For a moment he contemplated bringing the blanket with him but ultimately deciding against it. He certainly didn’t want to snag the silk on the floor. 
Even if he was sluggish now his beauty routine would be sure to wake him up, it always did. Asmo had a few pictures framed, some taped, next to his vanity. Some were of him and his brothers, some were him and Solomon, others were individuals of them, or some group combination. Some would say that Asmo gave his affections out too easily and that it was easiest bought if you had a pretty face and sweet enough words on your tongue. While that was somewhat true, only those Asmo truly loved got a space next to his bureau. Each photo not only held one of his loved ones, but a dear memory as well. 
Some past lovers had had an issue with some of the pictures, mainly those that involved Solomon. Or maybe it was just Solomon in general. Or maybe it was the special relationship they had. Asmodeus had never been afraid to show his affections and he’s always been physical. Especially with Solomon.
He didn’t really understand why some had had an issue with it in the first place.
Asmo never hid how special Solomon was to him. They’d known each other for almost their entire lives. Hell, they’d gone to their senior prom together! As friends of course. Asmo had been broken up with the week before, and in the middle of running mascara and messy eyeshadow, Solomon had gently asked if he wanted him to take him.  It was a bit of a fiasco really. Neither of them matched each other, and then the corsage (that they talked about getting for the aesthetic) didn’t match either of them. Despite it all, Asmo instead in joking tones that they made quite the stunning couple who took some rather stunning pictures together. They were some of Asmo’s favorites too. 
He opened his bedroom door carefully. He would never forget the day he found himself covered in paint because Mammon forgot about an assignment he had due that day. It had completely ruined his entire look. Asmo probably would have killed him if Lucifer hadn’t intervened. Speaking of Lucifer-
His oldest brother mulled about the kitchen, filling his traveller mug with coffee and wrapping up his breakfast to take to work. Beel was shoveling eggs into his mouth, toast, bacon, and bananas surrounding his plate in line to be eaten and a Belphie slumped against his shoulder. Belphie had never been a morning person. Getting him up for school had always been a struggle to the point where Lucifer had considered getting him into any form of school transportation in the morning a success since the twins had been in middle school. Asmo had spent his senior year driving the twins to school with him, just so they’d all have a little extra time to get ready (or in Belphie’s case, sleep). They’d struck up a deal where Asmo wouldn’t tell Lucifer about Belphie going to school in his pajamas if Belphie didn’t snitch on all the times Asmo snuck out. In Asmo’s personal opinion, it worked out pretty nicely for both of them.
“Good morning Lucifer! Beel, Belphie,” Asmo sang. He ruffled the twins’ hair, earning a grumble from Belphie and a stifled “good morning” from Beel. 
“Good morning Asmodeus.” Lucifer turned his head to look at Asmo as he popped one of the bagels into the toaster and setting the cream cheese on the counter. “Any plans or can we expect you home for dinner tonight?”
“As far as I’m aware,” he giggled.  
Then Lucifer gave him the look.
“Fine. Yes Dad. I’ll be home,” Asmo huffed.
Lucifer rolled his eyes before setting the coffee pot back into place. “I could do without the sass, but thank you. Satan is on duty tonight, if anything changes text him,” he said, packing up his things nice and orderly. He turned around and addressed Asmo in a tone he and the rest of the brothers had been familiar with.
“And please, keep yourself out of trouble and be safe.”
“I will Luci, promise.”
Campus was always so pretty in the fall. There was one spot that Asmo particularly liked next to the campus gardens. Underneath a large tree sat a wrought iron table with two matching chairs. It felt partially hidden from the rest of campus and was a perfect spot when you wanted to be alone with your thoughts. Asmo liked to sit there to work on some of his more creative assignments. The changing colors of the trees and variety of flora in the garden served as muses for some of his design and had birthed some of his proudest works.
“Asmodeus!” 
Asmo looked up, and his face immediately lit up. Solomon had his bag slumped over his shoulder and a coffee cup in each hand. He placed the cups on the table, sliding one towards Asmodeus before sitting in the chair opposite of him and letting his bag fall to the ground.
Solomon had moved out of his old house and into a small apartment for a change of pace a year or two ago. His roommate Simeon had already been living there with his nephew and had been looking for another person to help split rent once their old roommate moved out. Asmo had seen the place a few times, it was small but Solomon liked his room and how there had been room for a bookshelf and a few of his other things. That didn’t mean that Solomon’s room was neat and organized, but Asmo didn’t blame him for liking the place and Simeon and his nephew were both nice enough. It was also nice when he wanted somewhere to work quietly. 
Asmo picked up the cup Solomon slipped him and sipped at it with a smile. It had whipped cream on top that had a slight pumpkin flavor with cinnamon on top. The drink itself was a sweet and creamy hazelnut. “Oooh they have their fall specials back! You always know just what I want,” Asmo cooed, placing the drink back down, a safe distance from his sketch pad.
“I would hope so, considering I’ve been your errand boy to the campus cafe the past three years.”
“You have more points and perks than I do!”
“Because I keep buying your coffee,” Solomon’s tone was teasing. He never really minded getting Asmodeus’ coffee. He’d been doing things for him for years, but he never minded. Asmodeus’ usually found a way to repay him, but even if he didn’t Solomon would probably still do things for him. It was something he’d done without thinking most of the time, they were always little things that reminded him of Asmodeus. 
Asmodeus had rolled his eyes and taken another sip of his coffee, “So, did you just come by to say hi to little ol’ me in between classes?”
“Well yes, it’s not unusual is it?” he asked, “But I was also hoping to show you something.” Asmo quirked an eyebrow as Solomon started digging around in his bag, pulling out three cups and a marble. He set them up on the table and pointed at the one the marble was under. Asmo could help the smile that spread across his lips, nor the chuckle that escaped him  as he played along, keeping an eye on the cup as it spun around on the table. Solomon had gotten into magic tricks sometime in middle school. He always practiced them on Asmodeus, but back then most of them had been little card tricks. He’d always thought it’d been cute.
Asmo pointed at the cup off to the side and Solomon grinned as he lifted it. The other two cups followed, all three empty. “Wait, wait, I think I see it,” Solomon was grinning widely as he reached behind Asmodeus’ ear and brought the marble in front of his face. Asmo broke out into laughter.
“You’re such a nerd.”
“And yet you indulge in my interests.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy them.”
Asmo picked up his pencil back off the table and went back to putting the finishing touches on his newest design. Solomon watched for a moment. He’d always liked Asmodeus’ little designs. They were rather unique and alluring, just like him. “When’s that one due?” 
“It’s part of a collection, so not for a while. Buuuut-” he stopped and flipped a few pages back and pointed to another one he’d already finished, “I have this one finished and just need a model. And I still have your measurements from every other time my most wonderful Solomon has modeled for me.”
“You used up all your little brother tokens?”
“Unfortunately.”
“And your big brother tokens?”
“Those too. I owe the twins more favors than I’d like to admit.”
Solomon hummed and leaned back in his chair, “I suppose I’d have some free time. Would you need me for your class too?”
“If you don’t mind being my full time model for the semester,” Asmo sang. Solomon usually ended up being his full time model for the semester. Solomon nodded and Asmo squealed in delight almost immediately. “Oh thank you Solomon!” he chirped, throwing himself over the table, somehow managing to not knock anything over, “You’re always the best model like ever!”
Solomon coughed.
“And the best friend ever. Of course my best friend would also be my absolute favorite model!” 
Asmo would get to finish his project and spend more time with one of his favorite people in the entire world, of course having Solomon as his model was always a wonderful thing. Plus, he always looked really good in the clothes Asmo made. Like, really good. Sometimes he wondered if his subconscious purposefully made designs that would show off the countless number of tattoos that covered his body. Specifically the ones that would peak out from the collars of his shirts or from behind the cuffs of his sleeves. Solomon would make a really good model… Maybe one day Asmo could convince him to come along and work for him when he made it big one day.
******
Asmo sighed as he slumped onto his bed. He still had some time to himself before he had to meet his brothers for dinner. They usually wouldn’t start until Lucifer got home from work. It wasn’t that they had to wait, they just preferred to eat together when they could. It had been that way ever since they’d been kids and none of them saw a reason to break tradition (even if the brothers didn’t always get along). Folding his legs he went to grab his laptop to attempt to start on a few more assignments for the upcoming week and to update some of his profiles. He wanted to make it into the fashion industry, he needed to keep everything up to date and looking attractive. 
No sooner had Asmo’s laptop left the bag did something else fall out. It was a pink envelope, with his name written in golden cursive on the front. The paper was glossy and sealed on the back with wax. 
Asmo had never gotten a letter before. At least, not one that had been this fancy. 
He carefully picked at the seal, not wanting to destroy something so pretty. 
Unfolding the letter, he couldn’t help but notice a smoky aroma coming from the inside of the envelope. 
How could any person ever glow so brightly?
Looking at you, I can’t deny that there must be some form of a higher power
For I refuse to believe that such perfection could be accidental.
Do you realize how truly wonderful you are?
Or that nothing in this life or any other could come close to comparing to your beauty?
I find myself being drawn to you
Like we’re connected by a string of fate.
I want to adore you.
I long to be closer to you.
Would you ever let yourself be mine?
Know that someone admires you in secret.
Think of Me,
Your Secret
15 notes · View notes
purrincess-chat · 5 years
Text
Will You Be My (Fake) Lover CH5
It’s here! Finally! Are you excited? Get excited! Canon who? We don’t know her. And truthfully, she doesn’t even really know herself
Read on AO3
Chapter 5
“Has the Prince of Gabriel brand found his Princess? Exclusive interview inside!”
Lila glared down at the magazine in her lap as she sat on her usual park bench waiting. On the cover was Adrien down on one knee fitting Marinette’s foot with a glass slipper. It seemed as though they were more committed to this lie than she originally thought, but she could use this to her advantage. The more people invested in their relationship, the harder they’d crash when they finally fell, and she couldn’t wait to watch.
I: What’s your favorite quality about Marinette?
A: How kind she is. She’s always thinking of others before herself, and I admire that so much.
Lila could gag. All this pretending had to be eating Marinette up inside knowing that none of those things were true. That Adrien didn’t love her. Perhaps if she prodded her enough, Lila could get Marinette to snap. That would ruin any possible chance she had with him after this. Lila may have run into a detour with Marinette’s friends, but taking Adrien away from her permanently was worth the extra effort. That way there wouldn’t be anyone else to save her next time.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Gabriel’s voice sounded behind her. “Many people are quite pleased with my son’s relationship with Miss Dupain-Cheng, so I’m afraid that I cannot hold up our bargain.”
“Don’t worry. I have something else to offer you, Mr. Agreste,” Lila said. “I have reason to believe that Marinette and Adrien are faking their relationship.”
“And what evidence do you have to support such claims?” Gabriel asked, quirking a brow.
“I’m working on it, and I assure you I’ll be able to prove it if I attend the Agreste Foundation gala coming up soon,” she said with a sly smile.
“I’ll put you on the guest list, but I feel your suspicions may be a misguided cover up for your jealousy. If you cannot prove their relationship is a farce by the end of the gala, then perhaps it’s best if you and I cease negotiations,” Gabriel said, and Lila whipped around to face him.
“But-”
“I have no need for petty schoolyard drama especially at the expense of my son’s reputation. You have until the end of the gala in three weeks to prove your claims, Miss Rossi,” Gabriel said with a finality before rolling up the window.
As the car drove off, Lila’s jaw clenched, her hands gripping the magazine so tightly the sides crinkled between her fingers. She glanced down at the pages of her spread to find them overrun with Marinette and Adrien’s adoring smiles, the singular image of herself caught in the folds of the page. Rage boiled from her core up to her throat, and she tossed the magazine with a scream.
Gabriel wanted proof? She’d get him proof.
***
“Good evening, beautiful.”
Adrien smiled at Marinette as she entered his bedroom, seated at his piano while his fingers moved across the keys and filled the room with a soft melody. Nathalie stood off to the side to supervise, but Marinette found her attention drawn to the bouquet of roses resting atop the piano.
“They’re for you,” Adrien said, following her gaze, and she blinked, cheeks heating up.
“What for?” She asked, trailing her fingers over the petals.
“Do I need a reason?” He chuckled. “You deserve them, that’s why. You’re smart and kind, and you make me happy. That’s all the reason I need.”
She knew he was hamming it up because Nathalie was in the room, but she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. Fake or not, it was the first time anyone had given her flowers, and she had a feeling they carried a message of genuine gratitude for helping him as well.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” she said.
“They have tough competition.” He winked, his fingers trilling out a new melody, faster, lighter, sweeter than before, and Marinette bit her lip. “They’re also an invitation.”
“Oh?” Marinette quirked a brow.
“The Agreste Foundation has a formal event coming up soon, and I was hoping you’d be my date,” he said. “It’s a lot of boring adult stuff usually, but if you were there, it would be way more fun.”
“Of course, I’ll go with you,” she said, and Adrien relaxed a little, a content smile curling on his lips as he flicked his gaze back down to the keys. “I actually have an invitation for you too. My parents want to have you over for dinner one night when you’re free since you’re my first ever boyfriend.”
“Really?” Adrien stopped playing, his hands freezing on the keys as discordant notes squealed, and Nathalie cleared her throat, urging him to continue playing. “Sorry. Can you check my schedule, Nathalie?”
She scrolled through her tablet without looking up, the blue light reflecting off the lenses of her glasses.
“You have free time on Thursday after dinner, so I will let the chef know you will be dining elsewhere that evening,” she said, and Adrien perked up.
“Thank you, Nathalie!” He beamed, and Marinette offered her a small smile of thanks. Nathalie nodded in acknowledgement before flicking her gaze back to her tablet, and Adrien continued playing.
Marinette took a seat on the bench beside him, closing her eyes as the melody echoed around the room. Even if it wasn’t real, Marinette was happy getting to spend so much time with him. In a way, she felt like they were closer than they’d ever been, and most of her nerves had been squashed from the very first time they kissed. Knowing that Adrien felt comfortable enough with her to go through with all of this in the first place said enough about their relationship. Maybe there was hope for her after all.
She blinked her eyes open at the brush of skin against her own as Adrien reached an arm around her to play the keys at the end. He smiled at her as he trailed his fingers along, pulling her in closer, and she giggled as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek.
Moments like this made her wonder if his feelings would ever change. The softness in his eyes as he plucked a rose from the bouquet and offered it to her seemed so real, and the tender way he touched his lips to her cheek made her heart skip at the thought. She loved him so much, and more than anything, she wanted him to love her too. And why couldn’t she? There was no harm in wanting or hoping. In the end, she’d only hurt herself, so why not?
“You have five more minutes,” Nathalie said, and Adrien flicked his gaze back to the keys, seeming a little disappointed.
“I feel like time moves too quickly when I’m with you. I always find myself wishing we could have just a few more minutes,” he said as the song came to a close. “I don’t feel like a very good boyfriend.”
“I don’t mind. Whenever I get to see you and for however long, I treasure every moment,” she said, turning his chin to face her and cupping his cheek. “You’re an amazing boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He frowned, leaning into her touch. “It’s just hard to say goodbye all the time.”
Marinette felt her cheeks warm under his gaze as Nathalie’s watch beeped, signaling the end of their visit. It was moments like these that made her head spin. He seemed so sincere that even she had a hard time figuring out if he was pretending or not.
“Thanks again for the roses,” she said at the front door, glancing down at them.
“A beautiful girl deserves beautiful things,” Adrien said with a smile before leaning down to kiss her good night.
One hand cupped her face, his thumb tenderly tracing her jaw as the other hand pulled her closer at the waist. It was a stark contrast to the way he had kissed her just a few nights prior at the party. He was so gentle and delicate as if she were a flower he didn’t want to damage, and such tender affections only made her heart beat faster.
“Good night, beautiful,” he murmured against her lips when they parted.
Gabriel watched from his office door, lips pursed as Adrien slid his hand down her arm, twining their fingers until they were forced apart as Marinette was escorted out, remembering similar such nights with Emilie all those years ago. He’d give anything for those nights now, and he envied Adrien a little for getting to spend time with the girl he loved so dearly. It made Emilie’s condition weigh so much heavier on his heart.
“Adrien is very sweet to her,” Nathalie said when she entered a few minutes later as Gabriel sat with his chin resting on his fist in thought. “I got what you asked for.”
Gabriel arched a brow as Nathalie presented him a small pink sketchbook, and he flipped through each page of colorful designs with a blank expression.
“Do you think you’ll have time to design her a dress and have it made before the gala?” Nathalie asked as Gabriel paused on a page, tapping his finger.
“It seems as though Miss Marinette already has the perfect dress,” he remarked, setting the notebook in his lap and snapping a picture with his phone.
“Will you modify it at all?” Nathalie asked as he closed the cover and offered it back to her.
“I don’t believe in tampering with another artist’s vision. The dress is fine as is, and it will mean more as a gesture of good faith in their relationship if we replicate it as she designed it,” Gabriel said. “See to it that Adrien returns her sketchbook.”
“Yes, sir.” Nathalie nodded before retreating from the room.
Adrien was in sitting at his desk when Nathalie peeked in, a content smile on his face as he typed on his phone. It had been a while since she’d seen him so happy. Not since Emilie was still around. His eyes lit up more these days, and his entire countenance changed any time Marinette was around. It was clear to see how much he cared for her. Just like Emilie, Adrien wore his emotions on his face, and Nathalie was glad to see him happy for once.
“Adrien?” She knocked.
“Come in.”
“I found this on the stairs. It must have fallen from Marinette’s bag,” she said. “Can you return it to her?”
“Of course. Thank you, Nathalie,” Adrien said, setting it next to his textbooks. “Also…would it be possible to finally go on a double date with my friends? I know you’re already making so many accommodations so Marinette can see me, but it would mean a lot to me if I could take her out properly.”
Nathalie observed his pleading expression before a smile broke over her lips.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said before taking her leave.
Adrien sat back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair before a cheeky grin curled on his lips. He reached for his phone, snapping a picture of the notebook.
guess what i have? He typed, chuckling to himself as he awaited her response.
how?? She replied a few seconds later.
Nathalie found it on the stairs. it must have fallen out of your bag. ill give it to you tomorrow. He said.
Thanks!
but not before i look through it. He said with a smiling devil emoji.
no! some of them arent finished yet!
you’re so talented. I’m sure they’re all great.
Her reply was a worried face.
can I peek? just a little?
ok but dont laugh! She said.
why would I laugh?
some of them are old and silly…
like this one? Adrien attached a drawing dated a couple years prior of a small Marinette in a dress with pink bows, and her response was a monkey covering its eyes.
I think it’s cute! He said with a heart.
it’s embarrassing!
dont be embarrassed. everyone starts somewhere you should have seen me when I started taking fencing lessons for the first time. I barely knew how to put my helmet on. He said then added, you’re really talented. all of your new designs look amazing you’ve improved a lot.
I guess… She said with a sweat drop.
well, I know. you’re incredible, and I’m lucky to have a girlfriend as awesome as you. He said, watching her typing bubble.
you’re pretty awesome too. You’re really smart and athletic and sweet and hot.
I mean!
Objectively speaking
You’re a model so like
of course you’re hot
but it’s not like I’m really saying you’re hot
You are but
in a totally normal way!
Adrien chuckled at her text stream, feeling oddly amused.
Thanks. You’re pretty hot too. ;) He said.
I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT!
why not? I’m flattered.
But I have a question though. He said.
?
Am I hotter than this? He sent a picture of a candle.
why?
ya know. because flames are hot ;)
I’m breaking up with you. She said with a laughing face.
no don’t break up with me! I’m hot D:
all this time I thought you were cool… She said.
Well that was your first mistake im super lame.
Youre not lame! just your jokes.
wow! after I compliment your designs and you insult my jokes. that’s cold Marinette.
She sent a laughing face and heart in response.
I would have been more impressed if you asked if I could bake cookies on you since youre so hot and my parents are bakers. She said.
teach me more oh wise and hilarious queen of jokes.
fine. I guess ill train you. She said with an eyeroll.
I am honored
She sent back another laughing face, and he bit his lip and changed the topic.
this dress is really beautiful. He said sending a picture.
thanks! I got inspired after our photoshoot and wanted to design a princessy ballgown. I really like how it came out.
I bet youd look beautiful in it
Her typing bubble flashed for several minutes, disappearing every so often for a few seconds before returning.
thanks. She said finally.
can I ask a favor? He typed.
what?
will you design something for me? It can be anything I just want it to be from you. He asked.
Of course! Id love to make something for you!
yay! :) He paused for a moment before adding, one more thing?
yes?
Can we keep talking for a while? You and I are friends but theres still a lot I don’t know about you. Plus it will be good for us to know stuff about each other.
He held his breath as he watched her typing bubble.
sure. what do you wanna know?
everything :)
They talked for hours during which time he learned that she liked gardening, watching makeup tutorials, and meditating with her mom. She was deathly afraid of snakes. She had a scar on her left foot from when she was 7, and she secretly liked to sneak fresh cookies when her dad wasn’t looking. It was the first time he’d really opened up to someone about himself too. He told her things even Nino didn’t know, and he fell asleep that night smiling at his phone.
The next morning, he sent her a good morning text and resumed their conversation as he prepared for the day. As it turned out, Marinette was not a morning person which he already assumed from the many times she came to school late. It was kind of amusing to picture – a sleepy Marinette clinging to her pillow as she begged for a few more minutes. Incredibly cute.
At school, he peeked around the row of lockers, watching her smile down at his most recent text as she typed a reply. The fondness in her expression made his heart flutter, and he jumped a little as his phone buzzed.
are you going to hold my sketchbook hostage all day? where are you? She asked.
turn around. He said, and he crept up behind her as she read the message.
“Boo!” He pinched her sides, and she startled with a gasp, spinning around to face him.
“Oh, you finally showed up,” she said with a grin, cheeks pink from his prank. “Do you have my sketchbook?”
“Oh, was I supposed to bring that?” He tilted his head to the side before retrieving it from his bag with a smirk. “Returned safe and sound.”
“Thank you,” she giggled as he kissed it softly before handing it over.
“I wrote you something inside,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You mean so much to me I wanted to express it, so read it later when you get home, okay?”
“O-Okay!”
“Nino, remind me to call my dentist. I think I’m getting a cavity from sugar overload,” Alya called out as they approached. “You two are seriously cute.”
“Yeah, bro, you make me look bad,” Nino said, fist bumping Adrien.
“Sorry, but I have good news,” Adrien said. “Nathalie is clearing my schedule Saturday afternoon so we can all go on a date finally.”
“Whoa, legit? That’s awesome, dude!” Nino patted his shoulder.
“We can all go do an escape room together then get ice cream afterward,” Alya said, clapping her hands together. “We’ve been dying to go do one, but it’s way more fun with more people.”
“Yeah, sounds awesome,” Adrien said. “It’s our first official date. I can’t wait.”
“Only took your pops a month to let up.” Nino rolled his eyes, and Adrien sighed.
“Honestly, that’s quicker than I thought he would. I thought we’d have to wait until I turned 18 and moved out,” Adrien joked as they headed to class.
Lila glared around the row of lockers as they left, jaw clenching. She was losing momentum trying to prove their façade. The longer this went on, the more confident they were becoming, and the easier it was to fake it. She’d have to find some dirt on them during their date, or else the gala would be her last shot at getting favors from Gabriel.
***
“Is all of this really necessary?” Marinette asked as her father set the table.
“We’re having your first boyfriend over for dinner. I’m just trying to make sure he feels welcome,” Tom said, placing oven mitt-covered hands on his hips.
“By fattening him up? You’ve made enough food for 10 people!” Marinette gestured to the large ham and numerous sides covering the table.
“He’s a growing boy, and if he wants to date a baker’s daughter then he must know how to eat,” Roland added.
“Not to mention she’s part Italian. He will have to get used to big meals with family if he wants to stay,” Gina said, pinching Marinette’s cheek.
“Just promise me you guys will be cool. Don’t embarrass me,” Marinette pleaded, and Sabine flashed her a reassuring smile.
“We’re all just excited for you, sweetie. Adrien is a nice young man, and we just want him to know he’s accepted here,” her mother said, cupping her cheek.
“We will show him what a real family dinner looks like. Not the quiet lonesome dinners he gets at home. That’s not how it’s done!” Roland crossed his arms over his chest.
“Just don’t show him my baby pictures. Please?” Marinette pressed her palms together as the doorbell sounded.
“He’s here! Go let him in, my fairy,” Gina urged, and Marinette took a deep breath before opening the door.
“Hey.” Adrien smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheeks and planting a soft kiss on her nose before holding up another bouquet. “I brought you these.”
“Oh, how romantic. What a sweet boy,” Gina cooed, and Marinette screwed on a smile despite the tension in her spine.
“Adrien, you’ve met my grandma,” Marinette said. “This is my grandfather.”
“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Adrien said, shaking his hand.
“A firm handshake. Very good, the boy knows how it’s done. I’m glad to see a younger generation keeping up tradition. You will make a fine husband to Marinette,” Roland commented.
“Grandpa!” Marinette puffed her cheeks.
“Roland, they’re only 14,” Sabine said pointedly.
“Puh, ‘only 14.’ My grandparents were 16 when they married. They wanted to marry before my grandfather had to go fight in the war!” Roland said, and Marinette sighed as she retrieved a vase for her bouquet.
“Oh, why rush to settle down? Let them live a little,” Gina said with an eye roll.
“Mom’s right. They can get married when they’re ready,” Tom added as they sat down, and Marinette’s face fell into her hand.
Adrien eyed her, a small smile curling on his lips.
“I’d only marry Marinette if I truly make her happy. She’s a wonderful girl, and she deserves the best,” he said, and everyone in the room cooed in unison, clutching their hearts.
Marinette peeked out between her fingers, and Adrien shot her a wink.
“So, tell us more about you, dear. What does Adrien like to do?” Gina prompted as Tom served the first course.
“Well, I’m a model for my father’s fashion company. I play sports and piano, and I’ve also been taking Chinese lessons since I was little,” Adrien listed.
“My, my so busy,” Gina remarked.
“What sports do you play?” Roland asked.
“Mainly fencing, but also basketball, lacrosse, and karate,” he said, counting them on his fingers.
“How do you ever find time to spend with Marinette?” Roland’s eyebrows raised, and Adrien cast her a fond smile.
“I make time. She’s so important to me.” He placed a hand over hers.
“With how sweet you are, we may not even need dessert,” Gina said with a laugh.
“Marinette is very easy to be with. She’s so genuine and caring, all I want to do is make her smile.” Adrien batted his eyelashes at her, and she bit back a smirk, pushing his chin with her finger.
“You are such a schmooze,” she teased.
“Well, I’m glad to see my granddaughter has chosen such a fine young man to court,” Roland said. “Your children will be very successful. I can feel it.”
“Roland, they’re only in college,” Sabine chided.
“You and I met in college. Don’t you remember, dear?” Tom said, wrapping an arm around her. “I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that I wanted to marry you someday. I’m sure it’s the same for Marinette and Adrien.”
“Dad!” Marinette growled.
“Tom.” Sabine gave him a warning look.
“That’s for them to decide in a few years, I know.” He held up defensive hands.
“Oh, what’s the rush. Not everyone has to settle down so young. I think they should travel a bit while they can,” Gina said. “If you two are still together when you’re 18 and no longer under papa’s radar then I will take you both on a trip! Greece is so beautiful in the summer, ah, who am I kidding? It is gorgeous all year. You kids need to see the world.”
“That sounds fun. I’d love to travel,” Adrien said, and Gina nodded knowingly.
“Of course, you would, dear. The world is a big place. I’d offer to take you sooner, but I understand your papa is…strict.” She winced, and Adrien quirked a brow as if to say that was an understatement. “Marinette and I are going to Italy for her next birthday. I’m so excited for you to see my home, my fairy.”
“I can’t wait either, grandma,” Marinette reached out to take her hand.
“Your dad won’t let you travel, but maybe he’ll let you come spend Christmas with us this year. We always pass out yule logs down in the bakery before we have a big Christmas dinner,” Tom said.
“I’d like that a lot.” Adrien smiled.
“When is your next fencing tournament? Maybe we’ll take a little time off to come watch you,” Sabine offered.
“In 2 weeks, but you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’re very busy.” Adrien held up cautioning hands.
“Nonsense. We always have time to support family.” Tom patted his shoulder.
“Oh! I have a friend in London who is a great pianist. I can introduce you to him. Maybe he can give you some pointers,” Gina added.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks, Mrs. Dupain.”
“So formal. Call me Grandma or Nonna,” Gina insisted, waving it away.
“When you have time, you and Marinette should come by my house. I can teach you how to make bread the old-fashioned way,” Roland said.
“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” Marinette eyed Adrien who seemed to curl into himself. “You’re all so kind. Thank you for inviting me into your home.”
“But of course, my fairy. You are our family now,” Gina said as Roland cut him a slice of bread.
Adrien eyed it on his plate in silence as the conversation shifted, and after a moment, Marinette reached out to place a hand over his. He jumped a little at her touch, flicking his gaze to hers. She raised a brow at him, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before turning back to his meal.
He was perfectly polite during dinner, and to Marinette’s relief, a surprisingly good sport amidst all of the marriage discussions. But Marinette could tell something was off. The slight intonation of his voice, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes…He seemed sad almost, but he did what he always did: hid it until they were alone.
“I’ll bring the hot chocolate up when it’s ready,” Sabine called as Marinette and Adrien headed up the stairs to her room.
Adrien remained quiet as he climbed up to her balcony, leaning against the railing with a sigh.
“Sorry. I know they’re a lot to deal with,” she said, awkwardly shoving her hands into her pockets.
“Actually, I really liked it,” he said, staring out over the street. “This was the warmest and most inviting dinner I’ve ever had.”
“Then what’s wrong?” She asked, and he trained those tortured eyes on her. “Hey-”
“I can’t do this.” He shook his head. “Your family is so kind and loving, and they care about you. They want to take me on trips and come to my fencing tournaments. Your dad wants me to spend Christmas with you! All because they believe we’re in love. Doesn’t it drive you mad?”
Marinette averted her gaze, and he ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this. They were so kind to me, and all I’ve ever done is lie about loving you,” he said, pressing his lips together. “They’ll be devastated when they find out, and I don’t want to hurt them.”
“Adrien…” Marinette started, pacing over to him. “I know the risks of all of this, and I made my mind up when I decided to help you. From the very first time we kissed in front of everyone, I committed to this.”
“Yeah, but-”
“But nothing,” she said, cupping his face in her hand. “I agreed to this because I wanted to help you. Because…I care about you.”
“Marinette…” He winced. “You’re important to me too. That’s why I can’t hurt the people you love.”
“Who says you’re going to?” She held her arms out. “In a few months when things die down, we can announce that we broke up mutually and that there are no hard feelings then continue being friends. No one ever has to know.”
Adrien searched her expression before lowering his gaze to his shoes with a sigh.
“I really don’t deserve a friend like you,” he said with a short laugh. “You really are amazing, Marinette, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.”
She pulled him in for a tight hug, and he leaned into her embrace. In that moment, he felt so fragile, and she wished that she could take all of that hurt. It was hard enough living with her own pain, but somehow knowing Adrien cared for her this much hurt worse. That he would rather be unhappy than hurt her or her family. She was falling more in love with him the longer this went on, and she knew that it would destroy her in the end. But she didn’t care. If she could alleviate his torment even for a little while, she’d do it in a heartbeat.
“I have Gina’s world-famous hot chocolate- oh!” Sabine paused in the window upon seeing their pained embrace. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, sorry,” Adrien said, pulling away and running a hand across his cheek. “I just got emotional. You’ve all been so wonderful and inviting, and I’m not used to that.”
“Oh, honey,” Sabine said, setting the tray on the table and cupping his face. “No matter your circumstances, you are always loved here.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. I’ve had a wonderful time here tonight,” he said with a genuine smile.
“I’m glad to hear it. My husband and in-laws can be…a lot to handle,” Sabine said with an apologetic wince.
“It’s okay. I know they’re just happy for us,” Adrien said, wrapping an arm around Marinette’s waist, and Sabine smiled.
“Enjoy the hot chocolate, you two. It’s a pretty night out,” she said before climbing back down.
“Thank you,” Adrien said once her footsteps faded. “I feel like I don’t say that to you enough.”
“You’re my friend, Adrien. I’ve got your back,” Marinette said, and Adrien smiled, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek.
“Thank you,” he repeated softly, and Marinette’s face warmed.
“You’re welcome,” she said, passing him a mug.
“To friendship,” he declared, holding it up, and Marinette eyed him a moment before clanking her mug against his.
“To friendship.”
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audiblesmirking · 3 years
Text
erratic heartbeats ~chapter 2: you got a friend in me~
⚠Minor Swearing⚠
Legend: "English unless stated otherwise" --- 'Thoughts' --- "Telepathically speaking" --- [Authors' Note]
==========
'Japan's quiet,'  Azumi commented, her gait slow in order to appreciate the peace and observe her new neighborhood. A bag containing PK uniforms hangs on her fingers. There would be light breezes from time to time, blowing through her hair and rustling the leaves of the trees around. Compared to London, there were less cars driving by, despite the day being a weekend. 'School starts tomorrow and yet I still haven't finished the last level of "Dynasty and Descent". Seriously, what was wrong with homeschooling?' Azumi's mind wanders, stopping herself once she reached a tall metal gate that stood out from the rest of the houses. The meticulously twists, turns, and engravements of the metal is able to have anyone gawk.
She stood in front of her new home, raising a brow at the lock that secures the gate shut 'They both left?' Azumi questioned herself before fishing out her keys in the bag she held, unlocking the padlock and a few gate latches that pegs the metals to the ground and to each other. She made sure to secure the latches back, before proceeding to unlock the front door 'They probably went to greet the neighbors'
The walk to Azumi's room is tiring. The grandiose house's entirety was what her flamboyant mother envisioned, Akina was the one who took charge in the renovation of their new property since the beginning stages of planning. The conglomerate CEO is often one who basks in her success, hence the lavish abode. Azumi passed a few flights of stairs before freezing, slapping a palm on her forehead, 'I could just fucking teleport' Azumi cursed at her forgetfulness, having been used to the life before her powers came. Within no time, she arrived in the comforts of her own room. Placing the uniforms in the wardrobe, she lay plump on the bed.
——————————
"What the fUCK, YOU DICKHEADS," Azumi was seething with rage as her brother and his friend ran as fast as they could away from the infuriated, soaking wet girl, stifling their laughter as they dashed. Her reaction was more than what they had expected, and turned out to be funnier than they thought. They sprinted around the campus of the boys' college, running through stairs and empty hallways, desperate to arrive at their laboratory to successfully separate themselves from Azumi until she could either burn out from exhaustion or cool down from her anger "COME BACK HERE. I WILL FUCKING OBLITERATE YOUR FACES, DASTARDLY HEIFERS"
Atsuhiro huffed a breath of annoyance, the sound not going undetected by his companion despite the wind whipping at their faces as they ran as fast as they could "I fucking told you so, Kusuke"
"Well, wouldn't you know it, she's mad. Who's idea was this again?" Kusuke panted, sounding quite proud of Azumi's reaction despite the consequences they were facing.
"This was all your idea, jackass"
Kusuke simply laughed as they ran out of the building and are now crossing the field to their laboratory "Have you seen your face when she looked at us? It was a mixture of repressed laughter and instant regret"
"I swear, I WILL trip you if you won't shut up" Atsuhiro threatened, now was not the time to be distracted when the she-devil was chasing them. His friends' laughter immediately was cut short when a shiver went up their spines at the voice that whispered behind them "You both run like hookers"
——————————
The memory was when Azumi first met her brother's friend. The girl blinked a few times, confused at why she thought of the memory, before her hand reached up to her ear and fidgets her ear cuff. Gradually, voices start to flood in her mind. She laid unmoving, concentrated on trying to locate thoughts involving her family or their recent moving. She succeeded. The Saiki's, what a coincidence, were hosting Azumi's parents. 'Kusuke's family. They would likely talk for another hour or two, seeing as Kusuke' s mother is just as chatty as mine'
Azumi sat up, her beautiful hair swaying at the sudden movement. Whilst fidgeting her ear cuff, the girl walked over to her monitor. The screen lit up after she plugged it in and pushed the button, the fantasy game "Dynasty and Descent" placed in to be played. 'I'd probably finish this before they come back' Azumi challenged herself.
•°●•°●•°●
‘Saiki Kusuo, huh?' Azumi laid on her belly as she eavesdrops on his thoughts regarding her parents. She finished the game and cleaned up the room twice before she thought of listening in on her neighbors. 'A curious one, aren't you? But I can't blame him, he must have been lonely growing up being the only psychic he knows' She empathized with the boy, swinging her legs absentmindedly.
After some time, Azumi sighed, before teleporting to their kitchen. She opened and closed cabinets and cupboards in search of something to appeal to her boredom-driven hunger. She grabbed her favorite snack and a drink, immediately digging in. Because her teleportation required some time before she can use it again, she walked back to her room. Azumi had most of her attention on her phone while her food levitated around her, following as she walks. Her mind flitted to the topic of cellphones in Japan, 'I haven't seen anyone with their phones since we arrived. Is it some kind of unspoken rule or something?' The girl contemplated over whether or not she should use her device in public so as to fit in.
Azumi walks through one of the hallways that overlook the front yard, the sun’s setting rays casting an orange tinge on everything not under a shadow. She took a moment away from her phone and glanced at the road in front of their residence, there she saw her parents and the rest of the Saiki family. Akina and Aiken pushed open the gates lavishly for the guests, earning a sigh from their daughter as she continued her walk 'They'll likely call on me as soon as they enter', Azumi groaned as nervousness bubbled in her at the thought of greeting their guests 'I don't want to though'
She arrived in her room, throwing away her litter in the trash can at the corner, before proceeding to clean her room for the third time. Aiken knocked on the door the moment she laid down her bed after sweeping the area under it, "Come on down, Zumi, meet Kusuke's family" She walked next to her father in silence until they arrived in the living room.
==========
Azumi secured the gate latch, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. She was surprised to see Kusuo standing in front of his house, seemingly waiting for her. Azumi tried to make sense of the situation, she walked to him and gave a small wave, before continuing passed him 'Maybe he's waiting for his dad' She thought, before shooting down the idea the moment Saiki moved to walk with her. The familiar feeling of nervousness rose from within her, her thoughts crowding her mind 'Should I say something? Or is the silence okay for him? It's certainly okay for me. Why is he walking with me though, I thought we agreed—' She cut her own thought when she remembered the events of last night 'Nevermind, he didn't say anything then. Is this about what my mother said? Did she bribe him without my knowledge? But, mom won't stoop that low. Maybe if I look into his mind—no, he'll suspect my fidgeting and he'll know I'm uncomfortable or he'll think something's wrong with my ear and ask about it, and I would not want to be in either situations'
"... So," Azumi started—at the protest of her brain—dragging out the 'o' "You don't need to walk me to school, you know, I can do it on my own. I appreciate the thought though" She gave a tight-lipped smile, hoping she did not sound too rude. Kusuo just looked at her and then back in front, Azumi felt awkward at the lack of response and returned her gaze to the road as well.
Just as he expected, at the reaction of his companion, he deduced that Azumi could not hear his voice when he was speaking telepathically. He mentally took note "It's fine" Kusuo spoke, not only mildly surprising the girl beside him because of how late he responded, but also confusing her.
' 'It's fine'? How do I respond to that?' She just nodded her head, mentally facepalming at her response. 'I guess I have to get used to this'
•°●•°●•°●
'This is some next level coincidence shit' Azumi thought, sitting next to her assigned seatmate, Saiki 'I was just fine with how we were classmates, but seatmates? You have got to be joking'
"Open your textbooks to page 3. An introduction for our lesson this week" The teacher started, writing on the chalkboard the lesson title "Kindly answer the practice questions, 'What You Know', numbers 1-5. I will give you ten minutes to answer"
'This seems easy enough,' Azumi searched for her writing tool in her bag. Confused, she knit her eyebrows 'I left it at home? Great, first day and I'm already failing this'
The boy in front of her took notice of her furrowed brows when he turned to get his pencil case. He stretched a bandaged arm at her, offering to lend his pencil "H-Here, " He said, "you can borrow mine" Azumi blinked at him, then at his outstretched arm, before smiling softly at him.
"Thank you, I'll make sure to give it back to you after class," Azumi wrapped her fingers on the writing tool, watching as her classmate withdrew his hand meekly "May I know your name?"
"Ka-Kaidou Shun" His stuttering reminded Azumi of herself before. Kaidou awkwardly lets out his hand again, seemingly to shake with hers. Azumi's soft smile turned tight at how she responded with stretching the wrong hand to shake. She shuffled to replace her hand, clasping it with his.
"Um, Kanasawa Azumi" She mentally kicked herself, he already knows her name because she just introduced herself to the class. "Nice to meet you, Kaidou-san" They shook hands shortly before the teacher reprimanded the two to start with the activity.
•°●•°●•°●
A slow and pitched tune, that reminded Azumi of the announcements in a mall, rang through the hallways, signaling the end of the first class and break for their class. Some students leapt out of their classrooms, their friends in tow, ready to be the firsts to arrive in the cafeteria, while the rest took their time in arranging their things. "Thanks again, for, you know, lending your pencil" Azumi had stood up in unison with Saiki, her wrist in view as she gave back the pencil she borrowed.
Kaidou added the pencil in his case, placing it in his bag. "Are you sure? I, uh, mean, we still have classes after break"
Azumi let the corners of her lips tilt up a bit at the thoughtfulness of the boy "Yeah, I'll go buy my own"
"I don't mind if you borrow my pencil for the rest of the day," Kaidou lightly frowned, not wanting his classmate to spend money when he was fine with lending. He went to dig through his bag for the pencil case, but Azumi stopped him with a hand on his.
"It's okay, really-" She was cut off with a booming voice next to her, in her peripherals, a tall blonde hooks an arm around Saiki's shoulders. "Hey pal, the nurse wanted to ask about the thermano-something that the guy used this morning" He wasn't yelling, but his voice was loud enough to resonate around the half-empty classroom. Azumi turned her head at the two beside her, attention fading from Kaidou as she withdrew her hand. During the intensively long speech of their principal, one of their classmates fainted and a teacher ordered Nendou and Saiki to assist the student to the nurse's office. When they've been gone too long, the same teacher instructed Azumi to check on the two, and just before Nendou witnessed Saiki burn a thermometer to ashes, she came in and distracted the brute, feigning confusion on the dust on Saiki's palm. It was a coincidence, and if she weren't there Nendou would most likely find out about Saiki's powers. Is what Azumi initially thought, but looking back, her first impression with the blonde was idiotic, so maybe it would have gone differently.
Azumi grabbed her wallet and turned back to Kaidou "I'll be going first" She went to walk out the door but felt a presence following her, before the voice of Nendou reached her again.
"Where're you going, pal?" Azumi turned and, as she thought, Saiki will be following her around school. She resisted a sigh when the aforementioned raised a hand, moved his finger and pointed at her twice. "You're gonna show her around? I wanna come with!" He strode towards the two, and Azumi swore she saw the facial expression of the boy beside her contort into that of displeasure.
"I-I-I w-wanna come too" She barely heard Kaidou as he stood up and trailed behind Nendou, fiddling with his finger as he do.
Azumi just wanted to buy a pencil, alone, and now she felt awkward as she walked next to Saiki, Kaidou and Nendou following right behind them. She slowly reached a hand to her ear, but laid her arm back on her side after a while. Perplexed at the silence from Nendou, she turned back to look at him. He was teasing Kaidou, bickering as they filled the hallway with noise. Azumi tried to look for answers in Saiki's mind, staring at the boy before turning her head back in front. 'Never thought that being too dumb would be a reason for a silent mind, but okay'
'WhatshouldIsaywhatshouldIsay [What should I say what should I say]. Hello-no, that's too formal. Would "hi" be fine? Let's go with "hi". Hi, I'm Teruha-wait, no, she would see me as too eager if I introduce myself that quickly. Hi, you must be the new transfer student-OH MY GOD SHE'S HERE' The frantic thoughts of a blue-haired girl filled Azumi's mind. She was standing beside a vending machine outside of the cafeteria as the four walked passed her. Being too engrossed in her mental rehearsal, she did not notice the group since they appeared from the corner of the hallway. Teruhashi sulked when Azumi entered the cafeteria, but immediately fixed her façade when she remembered there may be people watching her.
'It must be tough to be that popular' Susurrus reached Azumi's ears and the students in the room turned to look at the people who recently came in. She felt self-conscious and turned to walk to the first stall in the row, the stall that sells school materials. After she purchased her pencil, she tried to convince her companions to spend their recess with what they want to do instead of following her around. She failed, and so they ended up touring the whole campus, conversations being held up by Nendou as he told story after story about anything that relates to whatever Azumi said.
"Kanasawa-san, you're from London, right?" Kaidou asked, they were sitting under one of the trees after the latter announced a break from the walking. At his words, the other two turned to look at Azumi, and now she was on the spotlight. "What was it like? Do you miss your friends?"
"Ah, that... I was homeschooled, so... I didn't have any friends until recently," Azumi paused "I have a brother, he's in London right now, and he was my only playmate until he left for college... My tutors change every year, and they mostly just teach me then leave after our sessions... Add into that how unapproachable they are, and they're just like robots, stiff and straightforward"
"Homeschooled?" Confused, Nendou asked, and Kaidou silently answered him. Azumi waited until all was clarified, fidgeting with her thumbs.
"Although, now that I think about it. I... think I had a friend around my age...? But he was just visiting London at that time... a few years ago... so I don't think we're close anymore." Azumi caught the short time when Saiki knit his brows, before remaining stoic. She knew from reading his mind that he wanted to know more about her connection with Kusuke and his involvement with her family. Azumi was about to open her mouth, when a nagging voice in her mind scolded at her for having already talked too much.
When Azumi looked like she was to stay silent, Kaidou spoke up "Th-then... I'll be your friend" His voice gradually softened, but she heard him nevertheless.
Nendou hooked his arm around Saiki's shoulder, to the surprise of the psychic "We'll be your friends too, right pal?" Kusuo looked annoyed at the arm pushing him closer to Nendou, but he didn't deny what he said. Azumi gave them a soft smile, her eyebrows low.
'I guess it won't hurt to have friends'
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Summary :
The awkward flirting ensues on their second date. Served with a pinch of angsty heart to heart and a non-graphic spicy scene to keep it PG.
Sequel to Aaron is a Cute Name
Sequel to this Not Now, But Someday
Click title to read on ao3. Click keep reading to read on tumblr~
Words : 10k
Do you want to go on a date this weekend?
Chris dropped his phone to his marble floor. Almost dropping his chia bowl to join it.
Then he screamed. High-pitched and throaty like a pterodactyl. No, not because he just dropped his brand new Apple phone, but because Aaron just asked him on a date just two days after their first date. 
Chris is still reeling at the feeling of his cute first initiation of a kiss, and now he’s asking him on a date? How bold! And so eager, this man either interested or literally going after his life. Dare he says that Aaron also likes him too?
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Chris chanted as he bends down to grab his phone and stare at his message.
There’s no way he’s replying now, not when he’s aware that he’s generating big dumb energy. Dumb shit happens when he’s on dumb bitch mode, and he needs to direct this energy to the same associate.
‘I just got a text back from the cute agent he’s asking for a second date this weekend ajsnhacdk’
Perfect. Send.
‘Haily’ glares on the screen, an incoming call.
“BIIIIIIITCH WHAT?” the woman screamed, thankfully, Chris already hangs his phone farther from his ear as he picks it up.
“I know!” Chris replied with the same excitement.
“Wow, Chris. Years I’ve been your partner and you never got any hot action, and now I’m on a honeymoon I’m missing everything!... No, honey, it’s Chris... He just hooked up with a guy!... Yeah I know right?” faintly Chris can hear Jim, Haily’s newlywed husband, congratulate him.
“Wait wait wait whoa, I’m not hooking up with him!” Chris cleared, “We’re just going on dates I guess, and I’m his first guy, so like... I’m taking it slow with him.”
“But he kissed you first right?”
“K-Kinda, he initiates and I gave the final push.”
“Okay? Just be careful with the bicurious alright? We all know and experienced what happened with my 2013 incident.”
Chris shivers, “Yeah, no need to tell me twice.” Chris looks down to his feet, covered with deep blue and black-tipped socks. There are a few drops of milk on his shirt making him groan internally, he’ll need to change before he goes to work.
“What’s wrong, Chrissy?” Haily asked after a long pause.
“I really like him, Hay. I don’t know... I just feel like... you know? Really really like him. Am I losing my marbles or what's going on?”
“You’re just whipped, dude.”
“Oh no, already?”
“You know I’m on your side, right?” Haily points out, “I was there when you gone in and out of love with everyone across the board. This is the first time you’re this excited over a date, and you know I’m happy for you! Like fucking finally!”
“I know.”
“If this one last, you better introduce me to him. He’ll gonna need my stamp of approval before he gets to marry you.”
“Yeah duh, Jim had mine, of course, I need your stamp, it’s only the law.” Chris looks at his wrist. Well shit, he’s not gonna be able to change his shirt.
“Gotta go Hay, love you doll! Have a great honeymoon!”
“I’ll see you Monday baby!”
Chris put his phone on his pocket and bolt with his bowl because he’s not gonna waste expensive organic chia seeds, completely forgetting that he left Aaron on read.
++++++
Chris left him on read for 8 hours now, and Aaron tried to not think about it too much. Keyword: tried to.
It doesn’t help that he’s not on any case for the rest of the week, so he’s been writing reports all day. He caught himself spacing out instead of his papers for a number of times he’s not proud of. It’s not his age to feel this bothered over someone leaving him on read. There must be a logical reason why Chris does so.
Their first date goes well. There’s nothing to worry about. Chris will reply sooner or later. If he’s interested in a second date, they’ll go. If Chris is not interested, then they’ll go on with their lives. Like a hook tugging in, Aaron noticed reeling in that there’s a possibility of disinterest on Chris’ behalf.
In that split moment, he felt his age, job, and life on the scale of consideration.
“You’ve been staring at that page for 10 minutes,” A comment of Reid Spencer delivered by Derek Morgan. The agent stood by the door frame with a worried look on his face.
“It’s nothing,” Hotch dismissed.
“Last time you said that you collapsed with your stab wound reopened.”
It was a habit to dismiss his condition, but this matter really is just... petty and nothing.
“It’s about Chris.”
Morgan knits his arched eyebrows, “What about him?” His voice stern and defending.
Though Hotch feels flattered by his intention to protect him –and he’s not the only one to do so– they really shouldn’t be this worried over him. Well, if that’s so, then Hotch shouldn’t be this worried over a read message.
“I just asked him on another date, and he left me on read. Really it’s nothi-”
“Pfft,” Morgan held his laugh with lips pressed tight and curled. Hotch glares at Morgan who’s having a hard time holding back his laugh.
“No need to rub salt on my wound Morgan.”
“I’m sorry I’m sorry, okay it’s all valid and all, I just don’t expect you to do that too.” Morgan walks in and sits across Hotch’s desk.
“I didn’t tell you to sit.”
“Okay, first of all,” Morgan started, ignoring his boss, “It’s normal to feel restless over these things.”
“I know, Morgan.”
“Especially since he’s your first guy.”
“How do you even know that?”
“It shows, man,” Morgan shrugged, “I’m here if you wanna ask about that stuff, ya know?”
“Was Reid your first too?”
“Nah, I was Reid’s.”
“I see.”
“So I can tell you about Chris’s perspective.”
“That’s... actually could be helpful.” Hotch doesn’t believe he’s saying that too, and how Morgan is offering it. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous with Chris. He didn’t feel like this with Beth. “I don’t want to screw this one up, Morgan,” He found himself saying.
It caught the agent off guard. The weight of Hotch’s words settles down on him, and gone were his playful bearings. Both of them have been a team for years. Morgan, along with a few people that still stay on the team, has been there with him through all his relationships. The beautiful start and how it ends.
How it all always ends.
“Okay, layin’ it a bit too heavy on the first swing there uh, what else does he make you feel?”
Hotch takes in a deep breath, “It just feels so easy. He’s not pushing me, I’m the one that pushes. I’m free-falling, and I’m enjoying it...”
“And it scares you that you feel that way?” Morgan completed. The perk of having profiler friends, they know.
He nods, solemnly, looking down at his clasped hands on top of his last report of the day.
“Wow, all of that after one date?” Morgan flashes his playful smirk.
“I don’t know why either.” Hotch smiles back, just as pleasantly surprised as Morgan does.
“Look man, don’t worry too much. Let yourself be happy and not worry about the what if’s. He seems like a good guy, fun too. If you like him then I trust your judgment of him.”
“Thank you, he is the type of person that balances me. I surprise myself how much I look forward to seeing him again, but there is a possibility that... he might not want to see me again.”
“Oh c’mon, you don’t know that.”
“Just a possibility Derek.”
“Well, if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t, you move on.”
“Yes, but I want it to work.”
Morgan raises his eyebrows, mouth agape, “Wow, Hotch... I need to meet the guy who made you his whipped.”
Just as Hotch about to ask what ‘whipped’ means, his phone vibrates. Like on cue, Kristianto Hamlyn glares across Hotch’s phone. Hotch raises his phone and gives a look to Morgan, who understands and leaves with a knowing smile.
“Aaron Ho-”
“I’m so sorry!” Chris’s voice almost deafens Hotch’s right ear. “I saw your message today, and I was... I...um... wait.” Chris cleared his throat. “It caught me off guard and I tucked my phone in because I was late for work,” his voice sounded calmer and stoic, like reading a script.
“Really?” Hotch teased, knowing that’s not the full story.
“Yeah, totally, haha,” Hotch can imagine the detective on his desk with a shy expression on his face, looking down at messy paperwork rowed and stacked there, just like what he’s doing now. “So, this weekend huh?”
“Are you available?”
“Totally! I wanna go to your town!”
“Sure, I’ll show you around this time, any preference?”
Chris paused for a few seconds, then said softly, “I don’t really have any, as long as you’re the one showing me around.” Chris cleared his throat again, “Um, and good food.”
“My yelp game is not as strong as you, but I do know my way around.”
“Oh god, that’s so... that’s so out of character of you! I wish I get to see your face saying ‘yelp game’,” Chris laughed heartily, and Hotch wished he’s there to see Chris does so.
+++++
Date day. Chris has so many things to wear but he none to choose from. It’s edging to fall, so he covers his salmon shirt with a maroon leather jacket and compliment the look with dark jeans and boots. He looks like a biker, a bad boy, the type of rebels that he arrested. He rocked the look, as quoted from Haily. He couldn’t even ride a bicycle. A shame that he’ll never tell anyone beside Haily.
His fingers feel kind of... vibrating? Just like when it’s 9 pm and he’s on his 5 th cup of coffee.
Just a date.
It’s just a date.
Like, whatever, right?
Chris would’ve laughed at himself if he’s not frozen over at the sight of Aaron, standing by the entrance of the cultural market in casual wear. The shirt he wears isn’t sinfully tight, but it complements the outline of his body, broad, sturdy, kinda like a brick and tall. Though he knows that they’re roughly the same height, but that and a tall impression left a different feel to it. He lowly hums at the sight of those legs wrapped in slim-fit dark blue trousers, topped with a leather belt and black oxfords. Light olive shirt tucked into the pants doing his body the justice it deserves. For extra damage, Aaron rolled the sleeves to his elbows.
Chris loved Aaron is his clean-cut suits, but now he hated what those suit had deprived him of.
“Hello? I don’t mind the stare but, I’m more than just a pretty face to admire on.” Aaron is looking at him, holding back a smile, and Chris felt embarrassed for staring at him from 10 meters away.
“Someone’s been practicing their lines!” Chris approaches meekly with a nervous laugh. What is he doing? He’s cooler than this, c’mon. He straightened his back, and flash his smooth playboy smile. “You just look really good.” Nice. He pats himself in the back for that one.
“You too,” Aaron says back.
“Seems fun in there,” Chris noted, looking behind Aaron. It’s a parking lot for the stadium looming over this area filled with street vendors, art vendors, food and random knick-knacks. They’re standing a bit further from the entrance but Chris can smell some hearty delicious curry and the beast inside his stomach roared.
“They’re here every weekend, I figured you like things like this.”
“Oooh, did it came with your profile?”
Aaron kind of leans back. Kind of. Everything Aaron does is always done subtlety and elegance like he’s controlling his reaction, so Chris has to look closely.
“It’s a guess,” Aaron shrugged, looking like he had done something wrong.
“Oh, c’mon I want to know what your profile says about me!”
“You sure? Some people might think it’s invading their space.”
“I can see why, but I dunno, you guys are like psychics to me. It’s cool! Like a Buzzfeed quiz telling me my mental state of mind by my choice of shampoo... or something like that.”
Aaron chuckled, oh, Chris is never getting tired of that. “We’ve been called a lot of names, but this is the first time someone compared us to a personality quiz.”
Chris wonders how long will it be until he’s immune to Aaron’s laughs. But now he enjoys it fully with all the butterflies and the blushing.
They walk around the market. First stop, lunch. They eat chicken green curry standing up beside the truck. They look at art vendors varying from paintings, pots and little miniatures. Then buying little snacks as they walk and talk and look around. Once or twice Chris would get distracted at cool pretty things and comment on it. Some vendors would greet Aaron, he said that he frequents coming here in the morning for groceries.
They were walking peacefully, still edging away from personal topics, until... a cat sculpture caught Chris’ eyes.
“Stop.” Chris holds out his hand in front of Aaron and thankfully the agent stops abruptly without spilling his ice cream.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to have that!” Chris says a little louder than average. Even the artist that sits behind the tables full of her works is startled when Chris points at the cat.
After downing the last of his boysenberry milkshake, Chris runs to the vendor and crouches down to look at the cat sculpture closer. It’s made of clay. Shaped like a fat and amazingly smooth upside-down egg with two triangles on the top as ears. An absolute unit. It’s painted as a black cat with neon yellow eyes. White painted on the tips on its ears and the tail’s tip on the back. And the expression, so smug and all-mighty. Even though the cat is below him and only as long as his forearms, the expression painted on the cat’s face is the look of God looking down on humanity’s downfall like Jersey Shore while eating popcorn.
Chris has to have it.
“Good day mam! Is this your work?” Chris says with wide and suspiciously excited eyes. But in the interest of her work, the artist glows in the same excitement.
“Why yes!”
“Then take my money!”
And took it she did.
Near the end of the day, they settle on the park bench eating more snacks as the sky dims with the sun on the way setting.
“You were really excited about the clay cat,” Aaron noted, biting into his second taco.
There’s burrito filling on his cheeks, preventing Chris from speaking. He chews faster to reply, “It looked like my... uh, my foster dad’s cat.”
“Oh, you’re a foster?”
“Yup, I’ve been in and out of foster homes since I was young, I think.”
“You think?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Hm, did you ever get adopted?” Aaron thread lightly.
“Nope. The last place I live in before taken by my foster dad was kind of fucked up. I was seventeen when the police bust the church, and I was taken in by one of the officers. His name’s Matty, Matty Matheson. Man, what a guy he was.” Chris prayed to the darkening light gray-blue sky.
“He’s such a blast. Thought me how to cook, how to be carefree and just enjoy life, you know? Despite everything.” Chris stops there, he’s not ready for the rest, and Aaron blissfully doesn’t press on. Aaron doesn’t express any distinctive emotions, but his eyes are on Chris, focused, yet has no pressure.
“I wasn’t his only rescue.” Chris continued, “He had Rosco when I came. A black cat with white tips,” Chris pats on the cat statue wrapped in a box and brown bag between them.
“Must’ve been a good cat.”
“Oh, no. She was a bitch. She would hiss even when I look at her. Then she had the audacity to zoom onto my path and hissed when I accidentally touched her!” Chris corrected and saw how Aaron paused unsurely. “But I remembered when she acted sweet one day. I was still in my early years of living with Matty and I was crying myself to sleep pretty regularly. Usually, Matty could cheer me up instantly but he was on night shift that day. She then crawled up to my bed and sleep on my foot. Don’t know why she did that but, since then she always sleeps by the foot of the bed. Doesn’t change the fact that she’s entitled though, she would bite me when I accidentally kick her in my sleep.”
“Do you think she knows that you need her?”
“Hm, I don’t know, cats are weird.”
“Wouldn’t have known, I’ve only had dogs.”
“Dang, I’ve wanted a dog once too. Do you have one?” Chris wished Aaron say yes just so he can demand dog pics next.
“I can’t. I’m away a lot. Sometimes I need to be ready in an hour to fly over for a case.” There’s a defeated look in Aaron’s expression, but he still smiles that soft little boat like curve.
“Aw, that sucks.”
“What about you? Do you have a cat?
“Kind of, but I would feel guilty of leaving a cat at home so much. Maybe when I retire.”
“Hm, that’s a nice plan.”
Then they take a breather, pausing comfortably as they look around. The park lights are on even though there’s still light left on the darkening sky. Chris got here at 1 PM, he checked his watch and isn’t really surprised that it’s a little bit past 5 pm. Closing the end of the year, daylight is shorter. Now that he’s thinking of the end of the year...
“Hey, Aaron?”
“Yes?”
“You have plans for Thanksgiving? Going back to your folk’s place?” Chris baited, hopeful that he didn’t step on his toe.
“I don’t have a lot of immediate families and I’m not really close with my extended family. My parents died a long time ago, so I only have a brother now and again, not close. The last time I spent it with my family was when I was still married, so... around 5 years ago.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s not a delicate subject. What about you?”
Well, it’s delicate for Chris, but Aaron opened up, it’s only fair that he does the same. “Got no folks left to eat dinner with.” He shrugged, a fact too old for him to be bothered to say, but he can see how Aaron’s expression shift to gloom. “Matty died in the field seven years after he takes me in. Since then I’ve been having thanksgiving with my partner, Haily. But she got married recently, so I bet she’ll have them at her in-laws. There’s always the office Thanksgiving dinner.”
“I have one too,” Aaron said. “If things turn to worse and we found ourselves alone in the holidays, we can always spend it together.”
only on their second date and Chris already got an invitation to spend the holidays together? Like whoa, hold up Lightning McQueen. Of course, Chris wants to, but hopefully, that’s not moving too fast, certainly not for Chris. And since Aaron is the one that suggested it, must’ve been a comfortable pace for him too, still...
“It’s only our second date, you really sure you want to spend your precious holidays with me?” Chris teased, hoping he’s not shooting himself on the dick.
“It’s only fair to spend my precious holidays with someone precious.”
If his heart can audibly scream, he would’ve deafened everyone at a two-block radius. Aaron just teased him back, and the audacity of that smirk!
“I see someone had practiced his lines, enough to earn a blush outta me,” Chris fights back, leaning closer till their shoulder touched.
“I had a great example,” Aaron looks deeply into Chris. He forgot how pretty Aaron’s eyes are, how dare he? “From this little cutie with deep blue eyes and shiny chocolate hair.”
Chris is destroyed by ‘little cutie’, “Aaaah! You win!” Chris leans back, covering his flushed face while Aaron laughed. The laugh that ended Chris once and for all.
How will he survive a relationship with this man?
Wait, will they be an item?
Suddenly, two dates are a date too many.
Chris is filled with the urge of not wanting to go home, but he knows he has to. They spent a half day together and it’s been fun and exciting even though he has to admit, Chris does most of the talking just because he generally talks a lot. Aaron seems to be having fun too. They opened up a little today, that’s a bonus.
Chris counts today’s date as a win.
They walk together to the subway and waits for Chris’s train.
“Have any plan for our third date?” Aaron asked, and Chris is way ahead of him.
“Oh, you bet I do. This time, I’m taking you where I think you’ll like.”
“Really? Did you profile me?” Aaron asked, amused.
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve, just you wait.”
“I hope it’s nothing reserved. I wouldn’t want to have to cancel you last minute because of a case.”
“... welp, plan b!”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I’m kidding!” Chris exclaimed, bumping his shoulder with Aaron’s. He’s been doing that a lot today, he needs to stop. “C’mon, don’t be sorry for doing your job. What you do is awesome!” and dangerous, the kind that reduces your life at every brush of death. He red David Rossi’s book, and man, if that’s what Aaron is really going through for every mission, he wouldn’t sleep a wink.
But hey, what can you do? Aaron gotta do what Hotch gotta do.
“You wouldn’t be saying that after I cancel on our date 5 times in a row over a case. Today we’re just unbelievably lucky.”
“Hey, I think you’re just overestimating that,” Chris scoots closer and bumps his shoulder against Aaron’s, purposely this time. “We’ll see where this goes together.”
Aaron passed him a thankful smile as he returns the gesture, bumping up his heartbeat. “I have a lot of fun today,” he said with dark eyes looking up from the subway’s grimy tiles.
Chris tightened his hold on the cat sculpture on his arms, “Same here.”
A voice-over breaks their zone and a train passes through the tunnel, bringing the wind with it. Chris looks to the side where Aaron squints his eyes and hair blown slightly. Yup, he’s so dead.
“This is me,” Chris cocks his head to the slowed-down train in front of them, “Um, goodnight.”
Aaron steps forward and Chris hits the breakfast. An arm nest softly on Chris’ waist as Aaron leans in. Chris doesn’t give the last push this time, and Aaron lands his lips softly on top of his. In the languid paced movement, everything else seems to blur. Their body awkwardly apart, blocked by the clay cat between them. Chris takes a hand off the statue and put it on the back of Aaron’s neck, grazing the skin at the nape. When he breathes in, he smelt the salsa they ate with and the hint of woody perfume.
Who knows who leans back first, but when they did, the playful air they had is gone. Like realizing that they’ve stepped into a territory with a big red sign on the outside.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Aaron Hotchner,” Chris said in lieu of the state he’s in.
“I hope that’s not true, you promised me a date.” Aaron just chuckled and slid his hands off his back, “Go before you miss the train.”
Chris steps into the train reluctantly, waving to Aaron who still ever so sweetly smiles.
+++++
Aaron was not kidding about canceling their dates 5 times. They’ve planned a lot to meet up and Aaron has been canceling on him five times in a row in addition to Chris canceling on him once because he’s assigned on night watch. Chris wasn’t upset about it, though it’s sad that it’s so hard to meet him, it was at a point where it’s kind of entertaining. ‘Now I get to know what Lois Lane felt,’ he teased one day hoping it would make Aaron sound less sorry. It didn’t work, yet Chris tried anyway. ‘I’ll wait till the end of time, my dear.’ ‘Oh, those sickos, taking you away from me.’ ‘It’s okay, send me his face with my name carved on his face. Stay safe!’ The last one is super cringy and a failed attempt on his take of an Addams Family AU.
In return, they talked a lot on the phone, every time that they can spare. Aaron will call after he finished his case, and Chris would call whenever he misses him. Aaron can always reach him, but Chris can only be so lucky if the end of the call gets through.
It’s not until two months after their second date that they meet again. Now, they’re sitting on the bench right outside the emergency room, shoulder to shoulder. The waiting hall is quiet at 1 am, and the only other people waiting there is an elderly couple at the other end of the hall.
“So, there I was, reduced down to my flower boxers, modeling for a bunch of 70-year-olds that attempted to draw a semi-nude picture of me. When nurse Abigail came, I thought for sure she would put a stop to those cheeky seniors, but she just stood and enjoy the view too! The only light of this is one of the seniors was legit good at drawing and he gave the picture to me.”
Hotch rubbed his face, the corner of his lips peeking from his hand as his chest shakes. If they’re not in a hospital right now, he bet Hotch would’ve laughed louder.
“What other hobbies you hide from me besides intervening on seniors’ home gathering .”
“Excuse me, it was a volunteering gig, and it’s fun.” Chris huffed playfully, “They’re all really nice, it’s like having dozens of doting grandparents, and now I can knit.”
“I’m not surprised.” Aaron finally cheered up.
When Chris got the call, he rushed here even though he was just getting ready for bed. Hotch was in the middle of assisting the police to hunt a serial arsonist when his friend, and Chris’ idol, Rossi is shot on his stomach. It was supposedly a small case, so only Rossi and he was handling it. The rest of his team is on the other end of the US, all the way to Sacramento for another case. Aaron called just to have someone to talk to, or so he said. There was an argument when Chris insisted that it’s okay for him to come over. Yet when he arrived, Aaron greeted him with a silent hug and they talked about anything else.
All they can do now is wait while Rossi is in the ER.
It was concerning yet endearing to get a call from Aaron when he’s still Hotch. His team is like family, and Aaron is alone, waiting for a life and death procedure of what an equivalent as the eccentric sketchy yet suspiciously rich Italian Uncle.
“What made you want to pursue this career, Chris?” Hotch asked out of the blue.
“A detective?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, Matty did. I was a teen when Matty takes me in, but he inspires me a great deal. They said the job wears you down, that you’ll see the world and all the ugly behind the crime and feel like nothing will change. Never Matty. He stays positive even though he’s on the job for 30 years. The way he sees the world was beautiful and new to me, and since him, I don’t want to look at the world like how I did ever again. And I was pretty weak when I was a kid, so I want to become stronger and be in a power that can protect people. Because I can see what the police failed to see when I needed them then.”
It’s a good feeling to remember that better part down the memory lane. Whatever that had happened had led him to here. To meet Matty, Haily, and then Aaron.
Fingers laced between his and grips tight, “I’m glad you met him. I hoped I had the chance to meet him.”
Chris clasp his hand back, squeezing just as tight. His cheeks start to tingle, he just hoped it doesn’t show.
“Me too.” Chris looks away when he sees Aaron with his cheeky smile and the lights showing the deep olive hue in his eyes. “I’m hungry, you’ve eaten yet?”
“Not dinner.”
“I’ll get us some protein bars, and a warm coffee?”
“Yes please.”
Chris brought back 4 granola bars from the vending machine and two paper cups of warm watery coffee. Both of them groaned simultaneously at the horrible taste then chuckled. They chatted some more until Hotch starting to look sleepy by the look of his heavy eyelids trying so hard to open.
“You should go home, Chris.”
“No, I’ll accompany you until the doctor’s back.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” because Chris is worried. When he came, Hotch looks deathly worried, even now he looked paler than usual, which already look vampire pale in general. “You guys are so solid, you know that?” Chris stated out of the blue. “Even I feel it when you guys were back in DC. You got a dynamic like family on a mission.”
“That’s one way to put...” Hotch yawns, “...to put it.” Then he puts down his empty paper cup on the feet of the benches. Even after coffee, Hotch still lulls his head.
“Want to lay down?” Chris pats his shoulder, feeling a little bolder.
“Thank you,” he said, it got Chris thinking it’s a ‘no thank you’, but then, Hotch scoots a little and lay his head on Chris’s shoulder. He smells like an antiseptic soap, mint, sweat and somehow, gun powder. The weight of his head feels like a cat resting there, and his hair feels like prickly grass.
He’s so glad he wears his cushiony leather jacket today.
“Chris?” Hotch called, and he hums in reply, “Have you ever feel lonely in your own home?”
His breath stops for a split second. Maybe that’s why Hotch is here, he thought. With a feeling of melancholy, he leans his head on top of Aaron’s, hoping he’ll provide more comfort.
“Why do you think I spent my weekends volunteering in a senior home? If I’m lucky, some of them would think I’m their grandson, and I felt like I have a family. Even though the next time I cam there, most of them forgot about me.” Chris sighed a shuddering breath. He never admits that to anyone.
He’s bright, confident, and optimistic, it’s his brand. To gloom over it is not him, and telling it to Hotch who he only knows for two months is even so.
Aaron reaches for his hand and laces them together again, holding tightly as he buries his face even deeper to the crook of Chris’ neck.
Either Hotch is drowsy or he’s messing with him right now. Either way, Chris gladly slide his hands and intertwined his fingers with Hotch’s.
“My ex-wife and son were killed a few years ago.”
Chris choked on his own saliva, “Ack, oh... Oh my God.”
The Hotch has the audacity to chuckle, “I knew you’d react that way.”
“React what way? That’s... that’s awful Aaron, I-” Chrish is cut short by his sudden sob. He leans back and breathes in like he always does when he’s overwhelmed, and tried to calm down. Aaron needs him now.
“It’s a long time ago.”
“Does time even matter for things like that?” Chris cleared his throat and breathes out,  “It doesn’t go away. They’re either pushed away or they don’t age well.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Trauma.”
Aaron hums, “Are you speaking from experience?”
The question hits like a deadly jab, yet at the same time, Chris expected it. “Yes.”
“Then you’re right. It doesn’t age well. I was so used to calling home to talk to my son, on every different occasion. I was always busy, and my ex-wife got custody so he’s always with her. I always call after he’s on recitals, camp, holidays when I couldn’t see him, or even homework. Picking him up on the weekends are the things I looked forward to, then suddenly, I don’t have that anymore. I’ve been coming back to a quiet home for years, until you.”
“Until me, huh.”
It’s not his story yet it hurts to hear. Hurts to know how much he must’ve hurt. The only thing he could be happy about is how Aaron talks about it calmly like he had made peace with it.
Chris holds on to Hotch’s hand tighter, pressing his face on top of Hotch’s head and hide in his raven black hair.
Soon, Hotch fell asleep on his shoulder while Chris stays up and wait for the doctor to come out of the ER.
+++++
It was almost midnight when Hotch finally finished with his reports and heads home. As he just makes himself comfortable in his car, his private phone rings. Chris.
“Hi.”
“Hey, hot stuff.” Chris doesn’t sound so hot.
“How are you?”
“A-okay, I just wanna hear your voice.”
“Chris.”
A pause. Seconds ticks away. Then a defeated sigh.
“I swear it’s nothing. I’m just... it’s just uh, I just want to talk.”
“What is it?” Aaron leans back on his seat, “Nothing’s too minor, you told me that.”
“Pulling a reverse card like that is not fair,” so he said, yet with an amused tone in his voice.
“I got no card left on my hand.”
Chris sighed, “I get like this sometimes.”
“Like what?”
“Like I don’t belong in my own home, in my own skin, you know?” It’s the first time that Chris sounded vulnerable, troubled. Aaron never hears him like this, yet it’s not surprising or completely foreign.
With a tightened squeeze on his phone, Aaron says, “I know exactly what you mean.”
“Oh...” Chris paused. “I’m sorry. It feels terrible.”
“It is.” Aaron mused, then smiled as he popped an idea, "Want me to come over?”
“W-Wh... Wait, um... really?” it’s the highest tone Chris hits so far. “I, Yeah! But you just got back.”
“I got my go-bag, I’m ready to sleepover at your place.”
“Wait... you’re sleeping over?!”
“Unless you don’t want me-”
“I want to! I’ll send you the location but I have to tidy up now okay bye babe.” Then Chris hangs up abruptly.
Aaron mouthed with a smile, “Babe?”
.-.-.-.-.
“Hi babe,” Aaron leers as soon as the door is open. Chris immediately groans with a furious blush on his face.
“It slipped okay?” Chris steps sideways to let Aaron in.
“Didn’t say I’m complaining.”
Chris lives in a fairly good apartment complex. Complete with security measures such as a guard and CCTV. Hotch doesn’t know what to expect when he finally comes into Chris’s living space. The walls have a lot of photos of him with different types of social groups. He recognizes one when Chris is younger in the academy uniform, others with seniors from which he volunteered and some with his work associates. A small bookcase at the end of the room filled with books. The open kitchen is on the left, through the sofa and TV, and fairly decorated with various utensils, which means that Chris cooks at least.
The bedroom located pass the kitchen. There’s a blanket on the sofa, which means that Chris spends more time there. On top of the coffee table in front of it, rest a wine glass, a coffee cup, and the cat sculpture. In front of the cat with a condescending look, sit a framed photo of Chris in his teens and a big framed man in a police uniform, must be Matty.
“So, this is your place after you clean it?” Aaron dropped his bag beside the couch.
“Actually, I gave up halfway.”
“It’s not as bad as you said.” After looking around, he noticed Chris bending down to get his bag. “Where are you taking my bag?”
“To my room.”
Aaron smirk, recognizing his chance to tease Chris, “If you want me in your bed so badly why don’t you say just say so,” Aaron knows it’s not what Chris meant, but he can’t help it, especially how Chris would go red in an instant.
“Aaron you need to stop! You’re getting dangerously way better than me at this.”
“Why thank you,” Aaron leans in to take his bag away and slip a kiss on the corner of his mouth before dropping his bag beside Chris’ bed. “Unless you don’t want me here-”
“I do!” Chris blurted out. Aaron knocked back his head and laugh as he drops his butt on the soft mattress that bounces him lightly.
“How are you so calm?” Chris finally whispered. “You must’ve seen how I’m literally gulping down my thirst and I’m holding back...”
“Why would you hold back?”
“Because I... well, I want you, but I know it’s your first and I know I have to get into this with communication before and I go into this with you and there are like a few things you need to know and I have to prepare and I haven’t even choose the words yet and I-”
“Chris,” Aaron called when he doesn’t hear him takes a breath.
“Really just want to touch you all over and have my way with you because here you are like right in front of me looking all delicious and hot and literally the embodiment of my wet dream for the past weeks but I know we need to do it slowly and even I can’t survive if we don’t do it slowly and I just feel like I’m spilling on the edge because I miss you we rarely see each other and to finally see you I just wanna-”
“Chris,” Aaron grabbed Chris’ hand and pull slightly. “I know. I missed you too.”
Chris sucked in a breath, eyes wide at Aaron who sits on his bed as if he belonged there. No, this was not Aaron’s intention when he wants to come over, but the thought is intriguing no?
In all relationships before this one, Aaron always played the role Chris is doing now. The patient one, the waiting one, the understanding one, the leading one, the one that gives his partner the ‘go’. Now he’s on the other side of the role, and so far, he’s enjoying it.
Aaron takes off his suit.
“Oh my god, it’s happening!” Chris curled his shoulders in as if to hide, but his eyes wide open.
Aaron chuckled, “You say that as if you don’t want to see me naked.”
“I do!” Chris lands his hand on Aaron’s shoulder so abruptly that he stopped halfway of taking his tie off. “Wait, yeah, I mean... Look,” Chris kneels on the floor, grabbing both of his hands. For once Aaron doesn’t understand why Chris does the things he did.
“I...” Chris trails to a pause. In real-time, Aaron can see how the thousands of Chris’ thoughts drained down into one state of panic, “I’m nervous,” The detective finally says. No childish quirks, just a man, truly afraid.
“You think I’m not?” Aaron cups Chris's distressed face with both his hand on each side. “But I feel safe with you. Just knowing that you worry means a lot to me.”
“I... don’t understand. I’m a mess, I’m afraid that I fuck things up and... and... I just want this to feel good for you too.” Chris just explained what Aaron meant without him realizing it. A person so sweet that it made the back of his throat gulps and his mouth salivate. To his absolute surprise, he felt the smooth alcohol like a burn inside him as he looks at Chris kneeling with hands on his thighs. Those deep blue eyes look so innocent and kind as they look up to him. What a pleasant new-found feeling.
“In my previous relationships, I’m always the one leaned on, not that I mind, just wanted to say that I’ve felt the pressure you’re feeling. When you worry, I know you’ll be careful with me, I feel like I could lean on you. It’s going to be okay.”
Chris blinks, eyebrows knit together, “Of course you can, were you not able to do that before?”
Of course, he does... Wait, does he? He opens his mouth, yet his mind draws a blank.
“Oh, my pretty baby,” Chris coos, slipping his hands on Aaron’s waist and kiss him on the lips.
Aaron kisses him back, pressing his face to his as he closes his eyes. “If you want me, don’t hesitate, just...”
“Slowly?”
“Please.”
The kiss starts chaste, like their first kiss. Hotch doesn’t realize how touch starved he was until now that’s touched with hands that eagerly wants him. He has his experiences with women, but the women that made him feel like this with a kiss, was married to him, and the other dated him briefly. Strong and steady arms loop on his back and hold him tight as the man that owns them kisses him deeper. His own hands grab onto his shoulder while the other raking Chris’ brunette hair with his fingers and pulls him even closer.
The air intake in between kept short and efficient. They paced up their movement with no hurry, with Chris’ hands on his back, he slowly descends him on the mattress. A heavier weight on top of him surprisingly serves comfort at how it grounds him. Thick pair of legs snug between his, grinding teasingly slow. Chris smells of his lemongrass shampoo and his favorite lavender lush soap bar, and Aaron takes in a deep breath of that mixed with his own scent. Soft pulses beat against his hammering heart, pressing generously heavy.
Every subtle movement, even the gentlest made itself known prominently on each other’s senses. The hands cupping Chris’ face trails down to his chest, playing with the contour of his body. Chris’ arms slip away from Hotch’s back and slither down to pull the shirt tucked in his belted hips.
The one carrying the current is Chris, and Aaron is blissfully riding along like a leaf on the mercy of the water stream. It’s a self-surrender that Aaron never felt before. To receive instead of giving. To follow instead of leading. To surrender to another’s arm instead of holding onto them in his.
Whatever playful intention Aaron had –because he was here to cheer Chris up originally- had gone with the lul of this moment.
That is, until a hand slithers under his shirt. Aaron tensed and hold Chris’s hands from moving any more.
“Sorry,” Chris breathed. Thankfully, he doesn’t sound too troubled by Aaron’s sudden stop. “We don’t need to go more than this if you don’t want to.” Whatever expression he wears that made Chris said that he doesn’t like it.
“It’s not that.” Aaron gulps. It’s inevitable anyway, he’ll have to show it sooner or later, Now is a good enough time as any.
Aaron unbuttoned his shirt, wanting to look away from Chris anxious eyes but he doesn’t, for Chris. He knows the scars won’t turn Chris off, but Chris has the tendency to feel strongly to these things despite him trying not to show it on his face, but that’s not what he’s worried about. What worries Aaron was, well, himself. It’s a scar that still feels raw and open.
For every button he undid, a puzzle piece fits in the picture. Then when all the pieces are there, Chris gapes, breathless. Aaron could feel his pained eyes looking at each of the nine stab wounds on his torso.
“Oh... Aaron,” Chris whimpered, that alone makes up for Aaron’s curiosity. Hands travel upon his sides peering in yet never too far, careful not to touch the white lines across his abdomen and chest that were once stab wounds. “I... you don’t have to ever tell me about it... I just... I’m so...”
“I’ll tell you, Chris, maybe not now.”
Chris leans down his temple against Aaron’s collarbone, damp and warm with sweat that was building up. “Does it still hurt you?”
“It’s an old scar, it had healed completely.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
Aaron knows. He places his hand at Chris’s trimmed nape, raking his fingers across the prickly short half of his hair and sigh.
“Sometimes.”
Chris hums in reply, placing a kiss on his collarbone as a start, and slowly trails lower. Aaron unclenches his hand and lets Chris go wherever.
“Can I touch them?” Chris asked in a treading whisper. Aaron can feel his question against his skin, sending wavelength of warmth to his chest. No one had asked permission before, but most of them pretend it’s not there, and Aaron was okay with that. Chris is different. Everything he’s done with Chris has all been different. Yet every new territory he stepped in with Chris has been a fulfilling one.
“Yes.”
The kisses trails lower then it landed on the first keloid scar. Then to another one, then another. When Chris reaches for the scar in the abdomen, Aaron gasped slightly at the heightened feeling. Both his fist balled, pulling the sheets slightly.
“If I’m doing something you didn’t want,” Chris said, “Promise that you’ll tell me.”
“I... I promise,” Aaron whispered between the breath.
Chris kisses the last and furthest down scar while he unbuckles Aaron’s belt.
+++++
“His name is Foyet,” Aaron admits to the ceiling. Chris froze on the bathroom’s door frame with freshly brushed teeth wearing nothing but the famous flower boxer.
“Wait, we’re doing this now?” Chris hurries over Aaron’s side and lands his butt on the edge of the bed on his side, bouncing Aaron along.  “You don’t have to tell me if it brings back memories.”
The tight grip on his hand made him look at Chris, really look at him. The fear, concern, and worry that blatantly displayed in his face, and no curiosity whatsoever.
“It doesn’t, not anymore.” Not after years of therapy. Chris doesn’t look convinced. Aaron sits up, with a hand on top of Chris’. “Do you want to know?” he asked, unsure himself.
His eyes don’t look blue at the darkness of the room. They opened the window and the city lights were their only light, yet Aaron can feel his eyes looking at his scars. Looking up, Chris looks determined. “Yes.”
So, Aaron told him everything. Foyet, the man who took his whole world from him. How it started with him being presumed as a victim, the deal, the stabbing. It wasn’t the worst part of it. The worst part was how Foyet involved his family. His then ex-wife, Haley and his way too young son Jack were sent to protective custody. Even with that, even with the strings Aaron pulled to keep them safer, Foyet got to him and Aaron was too late. Foyet made Haley calls him as he shoots her on the head with Jack present. When Aaron reached the house, all he sees is red and the next thing he knows, he’s beating Foyet flat to the ground. Each strike he lands, even with the bone-breaking crunch, the man laughs until he died in his hands. He doesn’t know when he died, or which punch that did it, which hands. A coworker needed to pull him away from the dead body, then he ran towards his son’s room to find him bleeding out in his bed while hugging his Yoda figurine. Even after he killed him, it felt he didn’t give the man when he deserved. He didn’t even give his son a quick death, but a slow painful one.
It ate him alive for years thinking the way they died. His son must’ve been so afraid as he bleeds out and his consciousness slipping away, the fear Haley must’ve felt when she faced Foyet. Aaron promised that he’ll make it up to her for the rest of his life after everything’s done, and he still does. For a long time, Aaron doesn’t know what else to live for and found it back with them.
He never told anyone this much. The bureau’s psychiatrist had his file so he doesn’t need to say much. His relationship with Beth ended before he could tell her. In each word he says, the scar made itself known. At the end of his tale, his mouth is dry, and his heart on his hand where Chris is holding with trembling hands.
“Oh god, Aaron.” Chris sobs, but just as Aaron predicted, he’s holding back tears behind haunted eyes. “That’s horrible.” Chris held Aaron’s hand tighter.
“It is,” Aaron admitted.
“I’m glad that he died, even more knowing that you killed him, but how do you get away from the bureau with that?”
“Not without a fight and justification. I was a prosecutor, after all, I know my way around.”
“Still,” Chris catches himself after hearing his voice broke, “Ugh, the justice system is so fucked up, and I’m the justice system.”
“We’re but a gear among many.”
“I know you must’ve heard it a lot before, but I’m so sorry it happened to you.”
“I don’t actually.”
“Don’t what?”
“Not a lot of people said they’re sorry. My colleague didn’t say it, they don’t need to, I already know. Not a lot of people know about it since it’s highly classified for my sake. My ex’s family blamed me for what happened, so they’re not sorry for me.”
Chris falls into a solemn silence. His face rids of his usual playfulness or even sorrow. Just an empty expressionless mask as he stares down their clasp hands. It’s an eerie thing to see Chris slips out into this character. It’s foreign, but it’s still undoubtedly Chris, and that’s what terrifies him.
“It doesn’t happen to you anymore,” Chris says monotonously.
“Are you talking about me or yourself?” Aaron baited, and Chris finally looks up from their hands.
“For both of us.” Chris weakly smiled. “It’s just so sad, and I think I just broke there because... well, I can’t see the sunny part of it. There’s a bright side of everything, I know that. I just can’t see it in your case other than that it doesn’t happen to you anymore, and it’s never going to happen to you anymore because he’s gone.”
“You’re right.”
“Then why do you look like that?” Chris asked.
“Like what?”
“Like it’s still happening to you.”
Aaron didn’t see that question coming, even after knowing Chris’ character, sometimes the serious part of Chris often comes unseen.
“Because I never let myself forget. For the first years, after it happened, I don’t let myself forget by not forgiving myself.” The confession had been a dead weight he carried through the years. He told himself that he deserves the gaining weight he carries, even when he’s telling the bureau’s psychiatrist. Now, it’s different, because someone with teary deep blue eyes is telling him that it doesn’t happen to him anymore.
“Is that the reason why you’re always working late? Because of guilt?”
“I was, but not anymore.”
“But you still do it.”
“A habit.”
Chris hums, his eyes no longer wet in tears, but piercing and searching into him.
“I know how it feels to come home to a quiet house. I’ve lost...” Chris trails away, going quiet. Just a look at Chris’s face and Aaron knew he finally found someone that understands the loss he felt, and he’s not grateful for it. “I’ve lost more than I can handle in a short amount of time. I know how it feels, not wanting to come home, because... well, there’s no one to come home to. The empty rooms are all that I can get, though it’s needed sometimes.”
Aaron gulped. He knows Chris is right, but he never hears it loud and clear, or hear anyone says it to his face.
“We can do something about that!” Chris cheered and Aaron leans back, perplexed by the quick turn. “When it gets too quiet, let call!”
Aaron gapes for a few seconds before finally regaining his voice, “I can’t call you every day.”
“I not talking about everyday, silly. I know we’re too busy for every day, just when you have the feeling that you intentionally don’t want to go home when you should’ve, let’s call.” Chris noted the unsure look on Aaron’s face and leans closer with both his hand perching between Aaron’s waist. “Look, we don’t even need to talk, just going online on WhatsApp voice call. That way I’ll be just around the corner for small talk or even petty question.”
“You’d do that?” Hotch doesn’t know how he looked, but the way Chris smiles at him so full of compassion fills a void that’s been gaping for a long time.
“You’re not asking too much of me, I promise. I want to call too.”
After a smile, Hotch finally nodding in agreement. “Thank you.”
Chris slips his arms around Aaron’s torso and hugged tightly. “By the way, I didn’t say this before, but the scars look really sexy on you, sorry.”
Aaron chuckled, “Don’t be, that’s the first time someone doesn’t pity the scars I have.”
++++
“SSA Hotchner.”
“You’re still at the office?”
“Yes.”
“Aaron,” the voice firmed up.
That’s when Aaron finally tore his eyes away from his reports and looks at the caller ID, seeing Chris’s name.
“Just landed, this paper is last minute.”
“Uh-huh,” Chris doesn’t sound convinced. “Oh, by the way, thank you for the gift.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, I was in tears, then conveniently wiping my tears with it.”
Hotch chuckled, “Is it really tears worthy?”
“It deserves a bucket of it, mostly because of laughter, mostly because I imagine you making it. When did you even find the time?”
“I spent a few minutes before bed on it.”
“Awww, okay I’m not mad anymore, but look at the time Aaron Hotchner! I know the watch I gave you still works, it’s time to go home. I’ll read for you again if you needed to.”
Aaron looks down at his wrist. Black leather and titanium steel. Silver needle points at an 11 and a 10. “I’d like that.”
“Okay, call me when you’re home, bye hon.”
“Bye.”
The line disconnected, and Hotch looks up to see Rossi standing there with a smug smile.
“And what would that gift be, that it made a grown man cry?” Rossi steps inside and hands him a folder.
“I knit him a handkerchief with a cat on it, it’s surprisingly easy.”
“You? Knitting?” Rossi said with eyes balked, rising a tone on each word.
“It’s surprisingly therapeutic.”
Rossi shook his head and chuckles, “Look at you two! Already acting like a pair of an old married couple. I didn’t think you two will even go that far, I was skeptical, not gonna lie.”
“Me too,” he admitted, “But I really like him.”
There’s a playful glint in Rossi’s eyes, a mischievous intent, “So, what’s your status?”
“What do you mean?”
Rossi gave him a look and Aaron, for the lack of a better word, ‘got caught.’ He never thought of it before. He just assumes that Chris and he are in a relationship, but now that he thinks about it, none of them had established that.
“You’re getting rusty there boy,” Rossi smirks, enjoying Aaron’s demise.
“Well I might be, but it helps that Chris is as rusty at this as I am.”
+++++
“I know the sound of that sigh,” chirped a high pitched voice from the desk in front of him, then followed by a screech from plastic wheels scraping the floor.
Chris pushes himself to the side, away from his messy desk filled with due reports and a computer screen filled with even more words and updated evidence. Wheels from his old chair squeaks and he meets a done expression from a blond with glossy pink lips.
“Trouble in paradise?” She beats him to it.
“Nothing like that Haily, just tryna take care of my...” Chris froze. Haily arched her permanently made eyebrows, watching Chris like he just got a stroke.
Why didn’t he ever think about this before? They never established a relationship. Like who are they? Are they still in the probation period? Because it doesn’t feel that way. Now that it doesn’t feel that way, what are they gonna do now?
“Really Chris? Don’t tell me you haven’t asked him to be your boyfriend yet. I taught you better than that.” Haily’s loud voice is mercifully is on a lower side as she said that.
“I... I don’t know! I was waiting for him, and I don’t want to be the one that pushes!”
“You said you have a heart to heart a couple of weeks ago! Isn’t that the green light?”
“I think so... I mean, it has to be but I can’t be sure.”
Haily knits her eyebrows together so hard it’ almost looked like a unibrow, pursing her lips as she lands her pretty tiny face on her long manicured hands. “Did he do something that makes you second guess?”
Chris shakes his head vigorously, “It’s not that... He’s perfect, Haily. He’s the tall dark and handsome type I love. And his body! Oh my god, that fucking suit had fooled me for months! His body is an absolute unit. Like, dense and packed with full power!” Chris sighed breathlessly as he wipes a sweat on his temple while Haily rolled her eyes. “But inside that hard exterior is this dreamy soft and gooey heart. But... do you remember 2015?”
Haily dropped her frown, pale blue eyes open in surprise, “How far have you gone?”
“To the moon.”
“Chrissy,” Haily awed, pushing with her work leather heel and pushes her office chair to bump with his. “This one won’t crash and burn like the dumpster fire of 2015, I promise.”
Chris rubs his face and lay on his hand, “How would you know?”
“You gotta trust me, honey,” Haily drapes her skinny arms around Chris’ shoulder, “I’ve seen you grow, you’re more mature now and Aaron is different than her. It won’t happen again.”
“You haven’t even met him yet.”
“Shh shhh shhh, I just know okay? Though opinion may change after I see him, maybe.”
Chris just gave a weak smile, he went weak in the knees at how he’s going to bring this conversation up. They’re already comfortable being where they are now, being who they are. If Chris brings it up... what if Aaron taps out?
“Hey! I don’t wanna see those wrinkles,” Haily press her fingers between Chris’ brows. He flinched back, pouting. “What were you texting bout with mister cool and sexy anyway?” Give it to Haily to know who’s texting who without seeing. She said it’s in the typing sound, the hesitating pauses, the excited rapid punches. Chris is still learning, still doesn’t get it.
“I was lecturing him about staying late at the office,” Chris admitted bashfully.
Haily narrowed her eyes at Chris, scoffing, “And where are we at this same hour?”
“Our office...”
“Go home Chris, then call your boo.”
“Okay,” Chris takes his bag and put on his jacket, “How bout you?”
“I lost that bet with Santiago and had some extra reports, but I’m done now,” She takes her purse, “Come now baby, let’s ditch this dump!”
+++++
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re burning the banana.”
“Oh shit!”
Chris yank the pan away and throw it to the counter beside the stove while turning it off. Poor banana... it’s burnt on the sides, sticking to the pan. Poor bacon and eggs, why are they mixed with a banana?
“Why are you searing banana with bacon and eggs,” Aaron chirped, looking down at the monstrosity Chris had created.
“I don’t know,” Chris mused, not daring to look up to look at Aaron after what he’d done to his pan, and other things too of course. “Sorry about burning our dinner.”
“Wanna eat out?”
“Yeah, I mean... we have to,” Chris looked pointedly at the pan, suddenly feeling exhausted. He just came back from work when he jumps into the train to see Aaron, who happens to just land from a case.
He thought the homey environment would make it easier to have ‘the talk’ but it’s not.
“I can hear the gear in your head turning,” Aaron bumps his shoulder against Chris, “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking of places to go to.” Smooth af Chris. “I’m feeling fast foods.”
Chris turns around to get his jacket, but Aaron steps in, planting firm palms against the counter, trapping him in between. Aaron leans forward and Chris froze.
“What...” Chris blurted, the space between them and the position of him being trapped killed half of his brain cells.
“You hate fast food,” Aaron stated.
Rats! “Can’t a guy have some cravings?” not really... he hated fast food. This smooth youthful skin doesn’t clear itself. How else do you think he looked this young despite his age?
“I know something is bothering you.” Aaron squints his eyes, and Chris’ heart thrum rapidly. He’s being profiled, oh no. “You insisted on coming to my place instead, so whatever you wanted to tell me, if it goes bad, you can easily leave without making me feel bad.”
“You have to guess what I was about to say first,” Chris played along, almost glad that he doesn’t need to say it.
“You wanted to end our relationship.”
Chris gasped so loud he almost choked on his own breath. He grips Aaron’s biceps, “Wha- No! Are you crazy!”
Aaron just chuckled shyly. Chris blinks, perplexed. “I know it’s not that now.”
“I... what, you really think there’s a possibility I would want that? Aaron... maybe you’re not as good as a profiler as you thought.” Chris doesn’t mean that. It’s just that Aaron is legit a dumbass if he ever thinks of Chris ever wanting to let him go.
He’ll never find anyone like Aaron again. Someone who treats him seriously even though he tended to act like a dumb bitch outside of work even at his age and with his profession. Someone that... well, loves him back with the same intensity as him. Someone that doesn’t comment on his weird-ass hobbies and quirks... yet.
“What else was I suppose to think you’re gonna say?” he asked with the softest smile that still makes Chris turn all warm and gooey inside. “You haven’t looked at me in the eyes since you walked in.”
“I was about to ask you to be my boyfriend, Aaron, geez...” Then his breath hitched. The words just slid off his tongue. His grip on Aaron loosens, ready to bolt. But Aaron’s arms still entrapping him between his suit wrapped body and the counter, then his face mellows, not even a tinge of shock.
“Yes,” Aaron says and leans down to kiss him.
“Wait...” Chris says between kisses, “You knew!”
“To be fair, I only knew after hearing your reaction.”
“Well, fudge sticks... There goes the rest of my 5-day plan.”
“Sorry to spoil your unnecessarily long plan. Now, what do you really want to eat?”
“I wanna go to Trader Joe’s so we can make some chicken salad and pasta.”
Aaron smiled at him, though it just looks a bit different than his usual heart eyes. Sickly sweet, soft and fluffy smile. Just something else Chris can’t point out, and he doesn’t know what makes Aaron that excited for his mediocre chicken salad and pasta.
“Let’s go then.” Aaron finally lets go of his arms and wraps them in Chris’s waist instead. His face buries at the crook of his neck.
Chris wraps around his around Aaron’s shoulder. He doesn’t question as they stay there just hugging.
This feels nice. Chris wants to feel like this for as long as he lives. Whoa! That’s some heavy feelings there, maybe it’s what Aaron felt too? Well, he’s going to ask if Aaron wants to spend the rest of his days with him too someday, but not today.
Today’s menu is hugs, food, and Netflix until they sleep on each other.
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villlainarc · 5 years
Text
To Fall in Love
Now and Ever After
Summary: In which Roman moves on, Logan returns to the grotto once more, and they both wish for something impossible.
Pairings: Logince
Warnings: entirely too much angst, and finally the ending of bittersweet unhappiness
Word Count: 1806
A/N: i apologize in advance for any excess pain this chapter may bring.
and, fun fact, the myth in this chapter is entirely made up with zero basis in fact besides the names, which are names of real deities in slavic mythology
More A/N: this is a secret santa gift for @ari-the-anxious-ace and as such, is already completed (and can be found at this very moment on ao3). but so as not to spam you, chapters will be posted every three days.
special thanks to @cringeless for beta reading :)
masterpost || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6
read on ao3 or below the cut
find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars
It has been exactly a month—down to the hour—since Logan left him here. Alone. And not a day goes by that Roman doesn’t miss him. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t return to the grotto, hoping he’ll see him once more.
🌊
Every day for nearly a month, Roman had gone back, full of new hope. And every day for nearly a month, he returned to the ship, full of the same confusion and numb sadness that had been haunting him since he’d last heard Logan’s voice.
Roman had been lethargic, refusing to move from his bed if it wasn’t to swim back to the island, scarcely eating, unable to properly sleep. He hadn’t been able to feel anything but a gaping hole where his heart was supposed to be and the cruelest of hopes. He’d been listless and miserable for the better part of the month before something within him had cracked.
That one crack had let loose an overwhelming rush of feelings, and Roman had finally confronted his emotions. The final shattering of his heart had allowed him to truly feel his sadness for the first time since Logan had left, bringing with it a torrent of tears. He’d cried for hours, broken sobs that no one else would ever hear. He’d grieved for a relationship that had barely begun, for a love that he’d barely gotten to know before he vanished into the night.
Roman’s heart still ached with longing for something he no longer had and its brokenness hurt more than he could possibly describe, but with the pain came a sort of calm. Nothing felt right, but at least now, Roman had accepted that.
With his acceptance came determination—determination to figure out why Logan had left. Because while he had accepted that he may never see Logan again, he would never accept that Logan had broken his heart without reason.
It was then that Roman had remembered the books laid out on his desk and the strange way that Logan had reacted the night before their last song together. He’d set his focus firmly on reading everything he could about dreams in those mythology books for two days, pausing only when he had to. Those were the only two days that he hadn’t gone to the grotto in the past month, and in the late hours of the night, he wondered sometimes if he would have seen Logan one more time had he gone. (He wouldn’t have. He knew that, deep down. Logan wasn’t going to come back.)
Despite that, he read on, ignoring the temptation to stop. The answers would be worth it once he found them.
And they were. Just before Roman was about to give up on the second day, he’d found a story.
Rusalki’s Tale
It was still near the beginning of time when Rusalki was born, the forbidden daughter of Mesyats and Tiarnoglofi. Though she was hidden away from the world as she grew up, quickly, she proved to her parents that she was just as powerful as any fully formed deity. And Rusalki, knowing already that she was special, wanted to see the world and prove to it that she was more than just her parents’ daughter. Refusing to be kept a secret any longer, she left the protection of Mesyats and Tiarnoglofi, subjecting herself to the mortifying ideal of being known.
The people of nearby kingdoms immediately took a liking to her with her sharp wit and silver tongue. She was also a beautiful goddess by all accounts, but that wasn’t what set her apart. No, that was her ambition. She wanted so much more intensely than any other deity, and the mortals saw pieces of their own desires in hers. They gave Rusalki the oceans, and they prayed to her for tranquil seas and realized dreams. In return for their generosity, Rusalki granted the mortals these things.
Even after being gifted the title of Goddess Of The Oceans And Ambitions, fittingly enough, Rusalki still wanted more. This wasn’t a thing fueled by greed; she didn’t want power or influence or recognition, she just wanted for something she couldn’t explain.
The seas sensed Rusalki’s unrest and responded in kind. Though her ambitions weren’t intended for ill, the humans felt her desires and, being naturally greedy creatures, twisted them to fit their own needs. Rusalki’s immense power was growing, feeding on the response of the oceans and mortals alike. She may have been powerful and clever but without control, Rusalki was dangerous.
Other deities saw this in her. Some grew worried, but others grew angry at Mesyats and Tiarnoglofi for defying the laws of nature. These angry deities were the ones who decided that something had to be done before Rusalki single-handedly destroyed the world. They were the ones who took the fabric of her being and tore it apart. Without preamble, these angry deities ripped Rusalki’s ambitions from her.
It wasn’t supposed to be a painful process, but taking a part of someone that is so integral to who they are could never have been done without consequence.
The screams of the sea goddess echoed across the world, mourning the piece of herself that she’d lost. They whipped through the waves of the ocean, forming beings of water and pain.
Rusalki’s cries had formed the sirens. Their songs held just as much promise as she once had, and they entranced all those who could hear them.
Rusalki’s lost ambitions dispersed into mortals everywhere, and she wanted them back. She still does to this day, and she will never be satisfied. This is why sirens are said to feed on the dreams of mortals, hoping to steal back what their creator had once had.
The story officially ended there, but Roman had been just barely able to decipher a hand-written footnote near the bottom of the page.
Perhaps one day, Rusalki will have enough but until then, we pirates would do well to stay wary of songs that tempt us and voices that promise things that we’ll never have.
So it seemed that Logan wasn’t a mermaid after all. It seemed that Logan had left him for a good reason.
To protect him.
🌊
That had been one week ago. Each day after that, Roman had gone back to the grotto, whispering what he’d learned to the memory of Logan, hoping that he’d know one day that he understood. That he still loved him, would always love him.
Then, one month after Logan had said goodbye, Roman moves on too.
He decides to leave. No longer can he stand staying in a place that had once held so much promise for him, not when that promise has been stolen away. So he’s not going to.
He’d thought about singing today, trying one last thing to bring Logan back, but ultimately had decided against it. Roman is content to let the song they’d sung together a month before to be their last. Instead, he speaks.
“Logan,” he starts, taking a breath. “I miss you. I love you, and I understand now why you left. I love you for choosing to protect me, for being the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, for being… you.” He swallows. “I’m here to say goodbye, for real this time. I never got the chance to before, and I think I should. I think it will help.”
Roman sits down at the edge of the pool, closing his eyes briefly before blinking them open and staring out into nothing. “Goodbye, Logan,” he says to the still air of the grotto. “I will never stop missing you, nor will I ever forget you. I refuse to stop loving you either, with your heart of gold and eyes of starlight, a smile like quicksilver and a voice more beautiful than anything I’ve ever known. I’ll love you in all your perfect imperfections, always.”
Roman allows a single tear to overflow from the dozens gathering his eyes and trail down his cheek, falling into the water and leaving only the smallest of ripples behind. “Always,” he whispers again.
“So goodbye, my love. I wish I could—” Roman’s voice goes quiet. Selfishly, he doesn’t want to voice this one hope. Just once, he’d like to keep this for himself. “I wish you more than all the joy you’ve brought me,” he says instead, reeling his true dream back into his heart, protecting it from the world.
He stares into the depths of the pool that had once been Logan’s home, hoping more than he thought possible that his love will be there. That he’ll answer, that he’ll come back.
Roman shakes his head and stands up. He knows it’s impossible for that to happen because after all, Logan’s goodbye had been very final. No matter how much he wishes it weren’t so, Roman knows that his love is gone for good.
But still, he holds onto the wish, the hope, the dream that maybe someday… Maybe someday things could change.
Maybe someday.
🌊
It has been exactly a month—down to the hour—since Logan left Roman. Alone. And not a day goes by that he doesn’t regret it. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t wish he could return to the grotto in the hopes of seeing him once more.
Now, at long last, he has.
And now, after so long spent wishing, he regrets it.
Logan watches helplessly from behind an outcropping of rock on the other side of the grotto as Roman turns around, tears still glittering in his eyes. He wants to reach out, to sing to him, to comfort him. He can’t of course, and he regrets ever allowing himself the temptation.
Logan hadn’t heard what Roman had been saying, but he’s sure it caused him pain. He’d been crying when he’d stopped, after all. If it had been about Logan, about him leaving… then he hopes deep within his heart that one day, Roman will understand why he had to do what he did.
More than that though, he hopes that one day he’ll be able to see the one person he’s ever loved again.
He knows it’s impossible because after all, sirens can’t stop being sirens. No matter how much he wishes he it weren’t so, Logan can’t do anything but hurt Roman.
But still, he holds onto the wish, the hope, the dream that maybe someday… Maybe someday things could change.
Maybe someday.
---
taglist: @thewhiteraven73
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dailyaudiobible · 4 years
Text
05/05/2020 DAB Transcript
Judges 21:1- Ruth 1:22, John 4:4-42, Psalms 105:1-15, Proverbs 14:24-25
Today is the 5th day of May welcome to the daily by both Cinco de Mayo it's good to be here with you today as we come together and dive in and take the next step forward in the Scriptures. This is a good day. Today we’re going to conclude the book of Judges and then move our way into the book of Ruth and…ahhh…comes at a really really good time. So, we'll talk about that when we get there. But first, let's conclude the book of Judges. We…we began a pretty treacherous story yesterday that left us like with one tribe missing because of Civil War and some terrible injustice. And, so, we’ll conclude that story today. Judges chapter 21.
Introduction to the book of Ruth:
Okay. So, that concludes the book of Judges, which now brings us to the first page of the book of Ruth. And like I was saying earlier, especially when we get to this time of year, all that we’ve gone through in the year, and it's been a super unique year to say the least, but also we get to this point in the year and we’re kind of moving through Judges and we just need, it’s like we need a breath of fresh air at this point and it comes and it couldn't come at a better time. We've seen anarchy. We've seen just the chaotic extremes of what it looks like when everybody does what is right in their own eyes and this kind of systematic rebellion, this wave of back-and-forth over centuries with God and just the challenges that the people were facing even just to be led. So, Ruth comes in and like a breeze and just begins to transition us into the next season. And we’re moving into new eras in the Bible, but Ruth is this story, basically it's a story…there's more than three people in it but it’s a story of three major players, Ruth, Naomi, and Boaz. These are people who, in spite of opportunity for exploitation or whatever, like choose to do the right thing, even though they're going through some really tough, difficult, trying times. And we should be able to relate. And what we see in the book of Ruth is that when people have character and they use that character and cultivate wisdom and think things through and make correct choices and follow those choices then God's faithful, He is ever present. But Ruth also gives us this breath of fresh air where we’ll get to see this beautiful portrait of women, strong and full of character in the Scriptures. And it's because of Ruth and Naomi's faithfulness that eventually King David would be born and through the vine of King David Jesus would come. And, so, we begin. The book of Ruth chapter 1.
Commentary:
Okay. So, in the book of John, Jesus is having a conversation with the woman at the well, today. So, this is a very, very famous story. The woman is a Samaritan. We've explored Samaritans before, especially in the story of the good Samaritan. So, Jesus has done a somewhat rare thing. Most of Jesus ministry is centered in the Jewish culture among the Hebrew people. So, He's kind of left and He's among the Samaritan people when He has this conversation. And it's interesting that in Jesus time among the Samaritan people they believed. They heard Him with their own ears, and they believed. He was unpacking things for them that they believed, and they believed in Him, whereas the Jewish story is a different one. The people could see something different about Jesus, but the religious leaders denounced Him continually. And Jesus said something really interesting in the conversation that He was having with this woman, “but the time is coming, indeed, it's here now, when true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and in truth. The Father is looking for those will worship him that way for God is Spirit. So, those who worship Him must worship in Spirit and in truth.” So, how do we do that? How do we worship in Spirit? And even bringing that question up obviously puts a massive amount of theological forks in the road. And we can go down all these forks in the road to explain this but why don't we just get simple? Are we a spirit? Do we have a Spirit? As believers, we certainly believe that we do. We would even declare that our Spirit is the truest essence of us, like it is the real deal. It’s the real us or that everything that's real about us flows from there. And if we generally believe that we are kind of made up as a tri-human being, a being that has a body and a soul or a mind or a brain that can certainly direct our body, but a lot more is going on in our head than our bodies ever do. Like, we’re thinking all of the time and then we have a Spirit, the true essence of life within us, that which has been granted by God. So, then being able being able to say, “I am not my body. My body is certainly something I must care for. It's the temple of God, the Holy Spirit within me, I must care for, it is a part of my experience and a part of my existence. But I am not only my body. I am not only my mind”, right? Like, “I am not only the things that I think about.” And I’ve been thinking about thoughts a lot lately. It’s like you could be sitting still and just kinda listen to some music or just be really quiet and just try to concentrate and be still before God or whatever and it's amazing when you get still how many thoughts are happening that you can observe. Like, how…how is it that you choose the one that you're gonna, that you’re gonna go down, the path that you’re gonna go down. There's so many opportunities to think about so many things and we choose one and then we go down a rabbit hole and it can completely change our day, it can completely change our emotional life, it can change everything. How is it that we choose the things that we do? How do we take those things captive? I’ve been thinking a lot about that and realizing I think a lot like most…I’m a thinker and I'm an introvert and most my life is in my head, but to try to get to a place to say I am not my thoughts any more than I am my body any more than I am my emotions that come and go, something true about me is here, like there's something deeper than all of these things that is the truth of who I am. And I think we all know and sense this, we just mostly stay in the realm of thoughts or feelings. And yet, at the depth of our being is a…an eternal Spirit, maybe we could say the truest part of us. So, Jesus seems to be saying here, especially in the context of the conversation He’s happening is, “it doesn't matter where you go to do your worship, it matters that you do it truthfully from the truest place in you, a place that can have union with God in Spirit.” This is the point that you can kind of branch off into any number of theological or dog…dogmatic teachings. Like go down that path. How then do I do this? Like how do I activate, how do I engage in Spirit? And in the Christian faith that can range in a number of directions from, “you can't do this because you are completely corrupt. But one day you will be able to when you are whole” all the way to, you know, “you’ve gotta speak in tongues” and that's the evidence that you’re…that you’re engaging with the spiritual realm and everything in between. For me, having walked many of these paths, for me I am…where I'm at now is just trying to find some point in my day to be still and know that He is God instead of running around frantically thinking about how He is God and getting all whipped up into every care of this life trying to invoke Him to do things for me. I'm trying to at least find someplace that resembles what Jesus is talking about, someplace where I can get past thinking thoughts about God and being still enough to know, which is deeper than thinking or feeling, to know that He is God.
Prayer:
So, Jesus we take to heart the things that You have said. We believe them. We engage with them. We allow them to enter us and our thoughts and our emotions and everything that is beyond that. We want to worship in Spirit and in truth and we can go in all kinds of directions, but Spirit and truth have to be involved. And, so, we invite Your Holy Spirit into our Spirit, into the truest places of who we are, the places that are made in Your image and we just open ourselves up to You. We’re always, always using words. In fact, we’re talking to You right now and I'm using words but there is a language in love that is beyond words, and those of us who are in love with somebody on this earth with a spouse or somebody that we love that we've been with for a long time and we've gotten to know, like, even though the getting to know never ends, even though we can never know everything about the one that we love, we have those moments where we’re still and we know and it's beyond words, and this is how we want to sit with You. The way this is described in the Scriptures is like a weaned child that his mother's breast – calm, safe, beyond words, true. So, come Holy Spirit and help us to find some space in this day for that and every day for that, that we might go deeper in this relationship that You have invited us into. Come Holy Spirit into this we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.
Announcements:
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And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.
Community Prayer and Praise:
Hey, DABbers this is Mike In Awe in Kansas City Missouri I wanted to call in and pray against anxiety and confusion in relation to this virus. I think a lot of us have been going through it. I had a lot of anxiety at the beginning of this and I’ve really had to press into the Scriptures and pray and started ignoring all news related to it but I’m still doing my part like hand sanitizing and wearing a mask when I go to the store. Anyway, Lord, please bless the mental health of Your people Lord. Help us to increase, enjoy, in n wisdom, imagination, kindness, love, peace, purity, and patience Lord. Bless us with these things. Help us to see the truth that You are in control Lord, that You are all-powerful during this time, nothing has caught You off guard. Nothing is stronger than You Lord. Nothing can happen to us. You know us individually Lord. The Scripture say that You’ve counted the hairs on our head, and nothing will befall us, nothing will happen to us outside of Your approval. And help us to lean in on that Lord. Help Your Psalms 91 promises Lord that You will keep the us under the pinions of Your wings, metaphorically. Help us keep that in our heart Lord. Help that to resonate with us and become who we are Lord that we know that You’re our shield like David said, You’re our glory, the lifter of our head Lord. Bless us with joy abundantly during this time that we can see the trickery of the enemy and that we can rise above it in joy, that we can share Your life with others. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.
Hey there DAB family this is Catherine the South African from Houston calling. I’m a little behind on my DAB listening and I had listened to April 18th today and I heard Val from Vegas. And Val am so glad to hear you, are doing so well and that everything turned out so well for you. I am thrilled to hear the joy in your voice, and you gave me so much joy. So, God bless you and I hope that’s…you just continue to get stronger and stronger. And then there was a lady called Good News Cindy I think and she called and really made me smile just thinking of all the things that she’s enjoying about COVID if there’s…if one can even look at it in that light. But it made me think about what I’m grateful for and there is so much, there is so much to be grateful for. You touched about having time to be outdoors and take…to be…take notice of things that you’d otherwise miss when you’re at work. And we’ve been spending so much time outdoors just appreciating how beautiful the area we live in is, seeing spring slowly come and…well…quite quickly in Houston, take over. But the thing that I most value is that the fact that my husband’s home. He’s been furloughed. I’m working from home part time and we just have this amazing time together and it occurred to me, the next time we’re probably gonna be sitting around, “what do you feel like doing today love” is probably going to be when we’re both retired. And, so, I encourage married copies to just love each other and just enjoy this time together because goodness knows it’ll probably be a long time before we get something like this again. I love you all so much family and I just love this podcast. Thank you, Brian, thank you everyone involved and all you listeners. I love you and pray for you.
Alicia from Pennsylvania calling. I just heard some woman talking about her daughter and I just wanted pray for them. Lord, just give that mother the words to be able to talk with her daughter. Her daughter had said that she hadn’t slept in four days and I feel like I can relate to that and just the amount of mental strain that that brings. Crying on the floor in the fetal position for an hour, like just reminds me of my teenage years. And my mother was so…I know…I know that those times weighed so heavy on my mother’s heart and that she would have done anything to help me. And I just couldn’t hear her at the time. And I want to just tell you that there’s hope. I’m medicated now for bipolar and I have never felt better emotionally and I would say the only main difference between her and me is that I have seen God work in my life and I just pray that she does experience something in her life that shows You that You are real and that You’re here in that You are with her Lord. Lord I just pray that You lift them up, just let them be able to put in Your arms all the things that they can’t explain that have happened to them. Lord just help them to put it aside and to find the silver lining and to find the love that does exist. In Your name I pray. Amen.
Hi Daily Audio Bible family this is Cindy the flute player. I’m just going to be straight up and not stay on here very long. I lost my job. I have not been able to secure employment and today I found out that I have to leave my…my home. So, I don’t have any words, but I want you to know that I appreciate this group, this family and I’m praying for you out there. Been fasting and praying and so, what’s Your reason? There must be a really strong reason why He’s put me in such a trial like this. I don’t know what needs to be cultivated or eliminated or…I don’t know…I don’t know a lot but I know that He really is our only hope. So, anyway, talk to you later. Bye.
Good morning DAB fam this is Stephen from Alabama May the 1st and I just want to make everyone…and praise God for this ministry. And I hope everyone realizes the value of this ministry, the incredible immense value from the insight that we get from Brian to just this week Miss Brown singing Mr. Rogers. I wept as well when I heard that. And Miss Brown I’ve adopted you as my third grandmother. My…my grandmothers have both passed on to heaven. And, so, I’m adopting you and I don’t know that we will ever leave this side of heaven, but I can’t wait to hug your neck in heaven. I also want to reiterate what Nicole who called in who’s gone through the incredible tragedy in her life and difficulty. I too, in the nine years I have been listening to the Daily Audio Bible, I’ve gone through…I went through about four or five years of…of failures in business. Our personal income dropped about 80% from where it once was. A couple years ago I had a virus, very similar…very, very similar to this virus that’s going around now. Caused me to have pneumonia. Never been in a hospital a day of my life. Had pneumonia. Attacked my heart. Gave me heart failure. About a year ago this month I had a pacemaker defibrillator implanted. So, through that all I was…God gave me an incredible amount of peace simply because I showed up every day and pressed play. And that’s my encouragement to you. Jesus said this life is still gonna be difficult, but if you will just show up and push play, Jesus…and Brian has done all the hard work. Just push play and let God speak. God bless. Love you.
This is an encouragement for my sister who is dealing with husband that is abusive and selfish and trying to take away the child that he said he never wanted. And I understand. I went through that myself. All I can say is that God is able to do so much more than you can ever ask, think, or imagine. After my situation was over God had provided a way for me to be the sole provider of my child and also gave me an amazing husband that I love so much. And we would never have been able to have children. So, it’s an amazing thing. God works through our trials and our battles are His battles. So, put on your armor every day. Gird your loins, expect to fight, but then just submit fully to the hand of the Lord and trust Him because He will deliver you. He is your deliverer. He loves you and your daughter beyond measure. May God bless you and keep you. May God make His face to shine upon you and give you peace. May He cover you with His pinions. May He protect you. May He give you outrageous strength and eyes to see and ears to hear above all the noise that the enemy is throwing at you. And it’s in Jesus’ precious and holy name I pray for you and ask these things. I love you. Treasured Possession.
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avengemebuckyy · 6 years
Text
Statuesque 👠
Summary: 
‘“Uh, no, I can work on your arm.” You say, standing up. Your heart drops.
You’re taller than him.
You’re taller than him.’
or: You haven’t had the best of luck when it comes to dating. You don’t think Bucky will be any different.
Author’s note: This is a Bucky x tall fem reader. As a tall girl I kind of can’t relate when fanfics describe the reader being dwarfed by the love interest. I’m two inches away from six foot so I’m more likely to dwarf them. Especially in heels. So I thought it would be interesting to do Bucky with a tall girl. A really tall girl. I’ll do tags in a reblog since I don’t know if it’s safe to add links yet. Someone let me know if it’s safe lmao.
warnings: none
---
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Bucky says shooting Clemence a knee weakening smile. Clemence giggles, tossing her shiny chocolate hair over her shoulders.
“No problem Sargent,” she purrs, leaning in slightly. Bucky had come in for his regular tune up on his arm. With strict instructions from Shuri the engineers working under the reformed Avengers had been preforming monthly tests to make sure Bucky’s arm was functioning properly. However recently the head engineer, Folashade, had been experimenting with some new functions for Bucky’s arm so he had been coming in weekly instead of monthly. Not like anyone on your all female team was complaining.
Whenever Bucky came into the workshop all productivity screeched to a halt. Even now you could see your coworkers not-so-subtly staring Bucky down. Not that you could blame them. The man was gorgeous. His brown hair looked absolutely touchable and the perfect amount of stubble lined his sharp jaw. But it really was his eyes and mouth that could do a girl in. Bucky’s eyes were large and piercing, even a simple glance from him seemed to be intense. And his mouth- it wasn’t necessarily his lips- although they were perfectly pouty, but rather his words that would make women melt. Apparently once he had been different, you had heard from some techs, silent and withdrawn, guarded and jumpy. But that was before your time. You had only been hired a few months ago, and the Bucky you knew was a massive flirt.
But under his smooth exterior signs of the broken and put back together man showed through. You could see it in the way he’d tense whenever touched him, how he constantly seemed to be scanning the room, how he’d always be checking the entrances and exits, and  in the way he’d avoid looking at his reflection in the full length mirror next to the table whenever he’d get his arm worked on.
Clemence closes up the panel on Bucky’s arm and shoots him a gleaming white smile that would have melted a lesser man. But Bucky simply rolls down his sleeve and gets up from the work table.
“It’s been a pleasure as always, ladies” He says giving a charming smile and heading out the door. As soon as the door closes girlish sighs erupt around the room.
“Is it just me or is he getting hotter and hotter?” Vanessa says fanning herself.
“He is,” Clemence says, smirking
“Clemence I can’t believe you got to work on him two times in a row!” Vanessa says and the other girls mutter their agreement.
“What can I say,?” Clemence says inspecting her perfectly manicured nails-which always stayed perfectly manicured no matter what kind of project she was working on.
“You smug bitch- I’m taking your stick out of the drawing next time.” Brittney calls out laughing. Every time Bucky was due to come into the workroom there was a drawing to see who would get to work on him.
You allow yourself to smirk at the girl’s lascivious comments for a moment before blocking them out and returning to your work. You hadn’t even written your name on a popsicle stick to be drawn. After all you were realistic. You would leave girls like Vanessa, Clemence and Ayesha to fight for Bucky’s affection. They were all beautiful, the type of girls who would be in the running to capture such a man’s attention. You on the other hand weren’t even in the race. Life had taught you that soon enough. Failed dates, dances where you did nothing but sit on the sidelines, girls nights out were every one of your friends got chatted up except you. You think your height is partially to blame. You were very tall. Taller than most women and even a lot of men. Even the men that were taller than you seemed to gravitate towards the cute, petite girls.
You eye Clemence’s tiny frame and hold back a sigh. The tallest girl in the workroom besides you was 5”5. You always felt gigantic around them. Unfeminine. In your personal life you feel that you had to compensate, and usually you do by dressing extra girly. But all engineers must wear the same army green jumpsuit when working. The other girls look cute in theirs while you feel like you look like a burly mechanic. You look at the time.
“I’m gonna take my lunch now guys” You say, standing up from your worktable.
“Okay, just be sure to back by 1pm, I want us to start on the launcher then.” Clemence says turning around. “Wow. You know sometimes I forget how tall you are,” she says looking up at you.
“Okay.” You reply, giving a tight nod and heading out of the room.
A week later you’re sitting out at your usual picnic table. You almost always take your lunch breaks alone. Work just requires so much brain power and digestion of information that you sometimes feel that your head is going to explode. So during your lunch break you like to sit alone and decompress. Usually you listen to music but recently you’ve started a book. A deep voice startles you, but you can’t quite make out the words that were said. You look up and are met with Bucky Barnes’ piercing gaze.
“Huh?” you say, feeling like a deer in headlights.
“I said do you mind if I sit here?”
“Uh, no, go ahead,” You say and look back down at your book. You stare at the pages, not comprehending anything. Finally you give into the urge and look up at Bucky. He’s calmly unwrapping a sub, looking delectable as ever in a tight navy long sleeve that shows off every contour of his biceps.
“What’cha reading?” he asks, taking a bite of his sub and looking at you.
“Girl in the snow, it’s a murder mystery.” You reply, eyes darting back down to the page.
“Interesting. To be honest I thought you’d be reading some book on engineering.”
You look up at him and find him smirking at you.
“No way! I eat out here to get away from work. Sometimes after being in the workroom for too long I feel like my brain’s fried.”
“I get that.” Bucky chuckles “I mean love the guy but if I had to listen to Steve practicing his inspirational speech one more time I’m pretty sure my head would explode.”
You giggle at the thought of the Captain practicing his renowned speeches.
“How many times does he usually practice his speeches?”
Bucky groans “At least 10 times.” He leans forward and in a conspiratory whisper says: “Frankly I think he just loves the sound of his own voice.”
The next day Bucky sits down with you when you take your lunch. And the day after that. And the day after that. After the second day you don’t even bother opening your book. You find it so easy to talk to Bucky. He makes you laugh with his sly sense of humor and surprisingly the two of you have a lot of things in common, you find you have to pull yourself away from the table at the end of your breaks.
At the end of the week as you listen to the girls drawing sticks, you can feel your heart rate picking up. You know it’s only been a few days and you don’t want to even admit it to yourself but you’re developing quite the crush on Bucky Barnes.
“Vanessa’s got it.”
Disappointed groans sound out from across the workroom.
“At least tell me you’re gonna be working on his upper arm today,” Brittany says. Vanessa picks up Bucky’s file and flips through it.
“We’re in luck ladies, today is the upper plates!” whistles sound out across the room. Upper arm means Bucky has to take off his shirt. You contemplate taking your lunch right now. You don’t think you’ll be able to sit and watch Vanessa charm Bucky. Vanessa always had the male agents drooling whenever they come into the workshop to be fitted with new weapons. Her chic jet black pixie and curvy petite frame seems to be like catnip to men.
Just as you’re about to step outside, the door opens and Bucky enters the workroom.
“Good afternoon” he greets, looking around the workroom.
“Afternoon, Sergeant Barnes,” Vanessa says, smiling widely. “I’ll be working on your arm today.”
Normally Bucky just nods and heads over to the worktable. But today he pauses.
“Actually I was hoping that y/n would be able to work on my arm today.” Every head in the workroom whips towards you. You look up, shocked. Bucky walks towards you, stopping in front of your table.
“Unless she’s too busy for lil’ ol’ me.” The soldier gives you a teasing smile.
“Uh, no, I can work on your arm.” You say, standing up. Your heart drops.
You’re taller than him.
You’re taller than him.
You suddenly realize that you’ve never stood next to Bucky. He always came to the picnic table when you were sitting down and you always left him sitting at the table. You had always been sitting at your worktable when he came in to get his arm tuned up and you had never interacted with him besides those moments.
You’re only taller by an inch or two but you know when it comes to guys it might as well be a foot. If you had any chance with Bucky before it was officially shot. You struggle to keep your face composed. Bucky seems unware of your internal struggle, shooting you a panty dropping smile and turning to walk towards the worktable.
You can feel every eye boring into you as you take the file from Vanessa and skim over it.
“I’ll be working on the front panel of your upper arm today, I’m going to be running through the flexion capabilities of the plates.”
Bucky nods, eyes never leaving your face.
“I-um I’m gonna need you to take off your shirt if you don’t mind.” You stammer and Bucky smirks. You can’t even enjoy this moment because you’re still fixated on the fact that you’re taller than Bucky. Normally you can tell within moments whether a guy is taller than you, even if you’re sitting down. Like a snake measuring it’s prey before devouring it. But you had been so taken by Bucky you didn’t even think about his height. You’ll admit, you’d always loved the idea of having a tall boyfriend, but if you were honest with yourself it was more so to fit in with society than your own personal mandate. But it didn’t matter in the end, most guys wouldn’t even entertain the thought of being with a girl taller than them.
Your thoughts are broken by the sound of Bucky pulling off his long sleeved shirt. You hear some muffled sighs and one ‘damn!’ followed by hushes and giggles.
Bucky is stacked. Every agent you’ve worked with is in shape, but the super soldier is on another level. Bulging defined muscles line every inch of his frame and broad shoulders taper down into a slim waist. You’re so busy staring you almost miss the nervous look in Bucky’s eye. You’re confused for a moment before you realize. You look at his shoulder, where the metal arm fuses with his shoulder. Even Shuri’s genius and the Wakandan doctor’s groundbreaking treatments hadn’t been able to heal the angry raised scars that covered his shoulder. You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and rather than tensing Bucky seems to relax into your touch, his face relaxing too.
“Well just give me a moment to grab the tools and we’ll get started.” You say smiling at him and gently rubbing his shoulder. “It should give the ladies enough time to pick their jaws up off the floor.”
Laughter sounds out from around the workroom and Bucky joins in, fixing you with a full, happy smile.
Two weeks later you’re eating lunch with Bucky. It’s become routine for him to join you and you find your heart fluttering every time you catch his silhouette heading towards your table. A foreign sort of hope has started blossoming in your chest. ‘Maybe he kind of likes me? In that way?’
“Can I ask you a question?” he says suddenly, after you finish telling him about a new TV series you’ve started.
“No. People who like pineapple on pizzas are not allowed to ask me questions.” You say keeping your face straight. Bucky makes a expression of mock-hurt and whines your name.
“Come on, sugar, can you make an exception for me?”
You pretend to think for a moment.
“I guess. But you’re on thin ice Barnes.”
Bucky smiles and you try to ignore how your heart jumps.
“Say, what kind of flowers do dames like nowadays?”
You feel your heart drop.
What kind of flowers do dames like nowadays?
Dames. Not you.
Of course. Why hadn’t you seen it clearly? You’d been in this situation before. Guys always seemed to gravitate towards you when they needed help approaching someone else. ‘Who was it?’ you wondered for a moment. Clemence? Ayesha? Vanessa? Most likely Vanessa. It didn’t matter. You knew what was coming next, questions on how to woo his love interest and the cold shoulder once he succeeded.
You should have kept your feelings under control.
‘Fix your face’ you think to yourself and struggle to not let your emotions show.
“Well roses are always a hit.” You say, giving a smile that you hope doesn’t look pained “Although bouquets of roses and daises are popular nowadays. I thought it was an odd combination at first, but they do look really pretty…” your voice trails off. Bucky nods.
“Thanks sugar, I’ll keep that in mind” Bucky says giving you a soft smile. For a moment the two of you just look at each other. You feel yourself getting swept away in his gaze again.
‘Stop’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s no use anyway’
“Well, it’s time for me to head back.” You say standing and gathering your things.
‘You need to start cutting him off. Before it hurts too much to do so.’
Over the next two weeks you avoid Bucky best you can. You take your lunch in other places most days, in various spots so Bucky won’t find you. Still, you don’t want to seem like you’re avoiding him so you work on him when he comes into the workroom and asks for you and you sit at your usual spot two days out of those weeks, blaming work for your repeated absence. When you do take lunch with him you try to be impersonal in order to stop your feelings from deepening any further. But even in the short time you’ve come to know him Bucky Barnes is a hard man to forget.
By the end of the third week you’re sitting under a large tree on the compound, eating your lunch. You’re in the middle of  taking a massive bite of the puff pastry you packed when you notice two worn leather boots in your line of sight.
You look up and are met with Bucky Barnes’ piercing gaze.
“Hey,” he says
“Hey,” you reply, quickly shoving the rest of your pastry in your mouth , so you don’t have to say much else before you make your escape.
“Um so I was just actually heading out-“ you say quickly packing up your lunch box and standing. Bucky says your name softly, and something in his voice makes you pause. He sounds almost hurt.
“Are you avoiding me sugar?”
“N-no- of course not,” you stammer “But I really must be going-“ you say starting to walk away.
“Wait!” Bucky grasps your arm and you’re surprised by how gentle his touch is. He releases you and starts to shuffle his feet a bit.
“I-uh needa ask you something.”
“Sure,” you say, voice clipped. Internally you wilt, knowing a question on how to romance one of your coworkers is coming next.
“I was just wonderin’ if maybe you’d fancy going with me to Stark’s party next week. As my date. And uh maybe I can take you out to dinner beforehand?”
You just stare at Bucky for a moment shocked. ‘He’s asking me out?’
“Of course it’s alright if you don’t want to.” He says a blush working it’s way up his neck. The gears in your mind are slowly starting to turn. ‘Doesn’t he care about the height thing?’
“It doesn’t bother you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. You curse internally. ‘Maybe he hasn’t even noticed?’
“What?” Bucky asks looking adorably confused. You take a deep breath before deciding to say it. Better you know now rather than find out when he asks you to not wear heels.
“That I’m taller than you.” You mumble feeling embarrassed. Bucky looks at you for a moment before breaking out into a beautiful laugh, all full lips and white teeth.
“No, why would it?”
“ It’s just that most other guys seem to have a problem with my height.” You say looking down at your shoes.
“I never much cared about a gal’s height, it more mattered to me that she looked good.” Bucky steps closer, smirking “And might I say you are the best looking dame I’ve ever seen.”
You can’t contain your giggle at that “Stop flattering me Barnes.”
“There’s nothing to flatter sugar, I’m just speaking the God-honest truth.” Bucky says, leaning even closer, until you feel that you might due to his nearness. He smells indescribably good. Pine mixed with almost a smoky scent. “ ‘Sides I like your height. It’s sexy. Makes you look like some typa goddess or something.”
You can’t do anything but smile like an idiot.
“Shut up, Bucky,” you say turning your face away giggling.
“But I can’t, not when I’m around you,” he says smiling at you. He places a hand on your hip and gently urges you closer. You comply. “So, whattdaya say?”
“Yes.” You say still grinning. Bucky smiles back, smile threatening to overtake his entire face.
“Well that’s the best news I’ve heard in a while,” he says and steps backwards. For the first time you notice one of his hands is behind his back. “ You know, I have on good authority that these-“ he pulls his hand from behind his back and reveals a large bouquet of roses and daises “are the types of flowers dames like nowadays.”
You can’t help squealing a little bit. “You’re so corny” you say giggling “You’re lucky I like that.”He hands you the flowers and offers you his arm, taking your lunch bag for you. You clasp his bicep and the two of you start walking towards the compound.
“You know the only thing that would make this better would be if you wore those red heels of yours on our date.”
“When have you seen me wear heels?” you ask looking at him, surprised. You wore flat boots to work every day. Blush tinges Bucky’s neck again.
“The last company party.” You remember that party, it was a few months ago, a couple of weeks after you’d been hired. You normally stuck to flats but that night you’d been brave enough to wear a beautiful pair of fire engine red heels. But after the tenth ‘Why are you wearing heels? You’re already so tall?’ you had left early with one of your friends who was trying to dodge her agent ex. Bucky clears his throat “I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been plotting on you for a while now, sugar.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Hmm…” you pretend to think, “I guess I can grant your request.”
Bucky grins at you, winding his arm around your waist.
“Well this day just keeps on getting better and better.”
---
I would love nothing more than some feedback! Shout out to all my tall girls
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sarcastic-sunshines · 5 years
Text
ABIONA AU- Part 5
Pairing: T’ Challa x Black!Reader
Warning(s): None
Word Count:  3065
Link to ABIONA by @writingmarvellousimagines
Link to Face claims (2)
Part: (1) (2) (3) (I1) (I2) (4) (I3) (I4)
Part 5
“Okay beautiful, crawl to Baba, just get on your knees like this and come to Baba. Come on I know you can do it. This way to Baba” 6 month old Abiona did not move from her position sitting on the ground. Instead she giggled and babbled at her father’s antics.
“‘Ona what is so funny”
“It’s you, she thinks you are a joke. Right boo boo, Baba is a clown” T’Challa turned to face Alix and Jules, who was recording as asked by T’Challa in hopes of catching Abiona’s first few scoots.
“Alix you are such a comedian yourself. I haven’t seen you do one think to encourage our daughter to start moving.” Alix moved to pick up Abiona from her spot on the ground and kissed the giggling baby.
“Because she is only 6 and half months. She can crawl and anytime between now and ten months. Let her do it on her own time, stop rushing her”
“ Yeah T, I thought you could have passed on some of those herb genes to Abi but she seems like a regular baby to me” T’Challa sighed.
“Jules I already told you that the purple herb is ingested and it’s genetic changes cannot be passed on through hereditary. Please turn off the camera”
“Then what have I been here filming except you looking like a clown” Alix burst into laughter causing Abiona to laugh as well
“ Memories, Jules, Memories” said growing tired of being the bud of the joke.
“ Well I wouldn’t call any of that memories but if you sell the footage of the Black Panther you may get a good penny out of this. Not that you need it, so I could really just take the footage of your hands and-“
T’Challa snatched the camera out of his hands “We both know the answer is no”
“ Alix, your man is mad stingy for someone who has gazillions of dollars” Alix who began to walk to the nursery with Abiona replied,
“Jules stop trying to profit off of T’Challa . Plus you need to go, Amélie will be here soon and you promised Maman you would take her car to the mechanic remember?”
“Shoot your right, bye T” Jules ran out after kissing his sister and niece goodbye. T’Challa locked the door behind him and met Alix in the nursery where she was breastfeeding Abiona.
“What time is Amélie getting here?”
“In like 20 -30 minutes” She answered looking  up at T’Challa
“Is David coming ?” He asked as he distracted Abiona from feeding time
“Yes T’Challa , can you please leave me and Abiona alone. She has to eat before her playdate” T’Challa got up after rolling his eyes. “Why is it called a play date, when neither child is really old enough to ‘play’ it is purely an excuse for you and Amélie to gossip as you leave the children to lay on their blanket for two hours”
“ T’Challa I don’t know why you are acting like you don’t enjoy hanging out with David. You are just upset because he always makes comments about Abiona marrying Emmanuel” T’Challa immediately became defensive while Alix smirked.
“They are babies! They don’t even speak yet. How are we supposed to know if this Emmanuel is even worth Abiona’s time” T’Challa spoke as Alix laughed at the passion he had for the topic.
“Babe, Emmanuel is a baby, why are you talking as though they have actually asked for her hand in marriage or something. Plus I doubt you will ever think anyone on this planet will be worth her time” T’Challa leaned down to rub Abiona’s head distracting her from her meal once again.
“Because there isn’t a singular human being on this planet who will ever be worth my princess’s time”
“Someone is protective. You are going to hate age 16. T’Challa I am not going to ask again leave the baby to eat. You know she is easily distracted by you. Go clean up or something”
“Alright, Abiona your Mama is sending me away to go work in the kitchen. How cruel”
“ Abiona tell your Baba he is no use here and he should go put out snacks for your play date like a good host” T’Challa finally got up and left with a frown, leaving Alix laughing as she looked at her giggling baby and thanking the universe for giving her the most adorable family.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just as T’Challa had expected, the two moms immediately put down their baby blankets and placed the two babies with some toys and started talking. T’Challa rolled his eyes at the site before turning back to David.
“So you and Alix, are you? What are you?” T’Challa looked at David with confusion all over his face.
“ I am not really sure how to ask it but are you guys together now or is it still that weird trial period that she pretends your feelings for her are non existent and you are nothing but a sperm donor?” T’Challa immediately became offended.
“ It was not that bad, Alix showed her feelings for me” David laughed.
“ T’Challa you are a smart man, you have to be kidding me right? The only reason I knew you all were even thinking about giving it another chance was because Amélie told me about it. To the common eye you looked like a lost puppy dog. Me and the other guys at Lamaze had bets on how long you would let this go on.” T’Challa thought about what David said. Maybe he was right, he had spent a large portion of the pregnancy not knowing what foot he really stood on with Alix. Luckily for him it worked out, because even he could admit that it was getting a bit desperate. He appreciated David’s honesty, though always blunt it always helped him attempt to sort out what was happening with him and Alix.
“Out of curiosity, how long did you bet for”
“ Well let’s just say thanks to your persistence I lost 250 euros” T’Challa was insulted
“ You bet against me? I thought we were friends?”
“ And we are, but like I said, I thought you were smart and would eventually stop chasing someone who didn’t want you. But hey you are the true winner here. Look at your little family” T’Challa turned and smiled at two of the most important women in his life.
“You are right. Yes, it took so much time and patience from me but I finally got the preferred outcome. Alix and I could not be any more on the same page. If we weren’t we wouldn’t be going to Wakanda together because I would not want that confusion to continue over there.” David nodded in agreement.
“That is good to here man. I happy for you guys. Some of the guys had a side bet of whether you would eventually get tired and leave Alix’s case for Tina and I just want you know I placed a bet for you and Alix and I was able to make double the amount I lost. Most of them really thought you would choose Tina. I however saw how whipped you are up and personal so I knew Tina was not an option. Again thank you for your persistence” T’Challa immediately panicked and shushed David.
“I cannot blame them, Tina was a sight for sore eyes. Did you see her post on Instagram. Her snap back was quick. She doesn’t even look like she had a baby.”
“ David please stop talking, I am actually begging you” like clockwork, the mention of Tina’s name caused Alix to look at the men’s direction. T’Challa awkwardly waved at his lover who returned his greeting with an eye roll. Tina was still a sensitive topic, which T’Challa tried to avoid as much as possible. That included avoiding her at their last few Lamaze class. Luckily she went into labour early so T’Challa could stop the awkward encounters met with stares from Alix from across the room. He felt bad for Tina because he really did like her, and she truly did seem harmless. But casualties had to happen for this war of love for him and Alix to end. T’Challa looked back at the babies to find that 8 month old Emmanuel had pushed Abiona who was now laying on her back ready to start wailing. T’Challa yelled “Hey!” and immediately went over to pick up his daughter
“ You are okay beautiful. Do not mind him, I knew that Emmanuel was trouble before he even showed up. It is okay baby” David bent down to pick up Emmanuel who was confused by all the commotion.
T’Challa they are babies, they do things like that” Amélie  said with a laugh
“Abiona did not touch your baby so why did Emmanuel think to touch her. She is a crowned princess, my heir, she is the most important thing in my life” Alix stood and rubbed T’Challa’s back.
“ T’Challa it is okay calm down. You are doing a lot right now. Here come sit with me. So sorry guys, he is really protective and a bit of drama king”
“Speaking of Wakanda, is there any way would be able to visit you all when you move?” David asked
“I cannot say, we are still limiting immigration and tourism but over the next few months of my full time return, it will be one of my primary focuses. But we will be returning to France quite often since Alix’s family is still here” He said looking lovingly at Alix.
“That is what Alix is telling me, it is a good thing you are keeping the apartment then” T’Challa looked confused and when he tried to look at Alix for clarification she looked at everything but T’Challa .
“Oh I am sorry, was I not supposed to say anything” Amélie apologized.
“Well, I guess Wakanda is on hold then. Am I right T’Challa ” David tried to joke. Luckily Abiona pooped, which T’Challa for once was happy to clean.
After Amélie and David went home, T’challa knew he wasn’t ready for whatever excuse Alix was going to tell him so he brought Abiona in her bouncer to his study and decided to work on the outline of goals for the Chicago Outreach Center. He took a little break to admire Abiona, he couldn’t help to smile, There was no doubting that Abiona had her mother’s beauty. She looked like her twin. He loved that woman, but she was tiring him. As though she could sense him thinking about her she came into the study to join the pair. In true Alix fashion, she could sense his anger brewing and deciding to turn on her sweetness. She immediately entered the study and without being prompted sat on his lap. T’challa wasn’t shocked. He wanted to see how long she would go to avoid having a discussion about what happened earlier.
So he put on a slight smile “Can I help you” Alix breathed as sigh of relief, thinking she could go on without discussing what was said earlier.
“Yes, I made dinner, and I got a red velvet cheesecake from the bakery close by for dessert” T’Challa was disappointed at how far she was willing to go just to avoid serious conversations. He was quiet during dinner, and even with his cheesecake he ate quietly, feeding a little to Abiona. Alix wished he didn’t but today was not the day to nag him. T’challa continued to be quiet as they got ready for bed, Alix watched him to see if he would say anything. Yet he was silent. He sang to Abiona and put her to sleep. He climbed into bed and laid on his back, not reaching for Alix. She moved closer to him and began to rub his ear and tried again to break the tension.
“So what were you and David saying about Tina” T’Challa closed his eyes, he was upset but he was not dumb enough to pick that fight.
“He simply was saying that Tina’s baby was cute, nothing else.” He easily lied before opening his eyes too look at Alix, kiss her good night and turn his back to her. He was hoping she would take the hint and let him sleep so they could try again in the morning. He did not like to go to sleep angry, especially angry with Alix, so diving into a discussion would only lead to a fight and he was okay with the light simmer they were currently at.  
“ T’Challa ” Evidently his hoping  was wasted. Without turning to face her, he answered “Yes Alix”
“You have been quiet with me since Amélie left, and I don’t like it. Can we not do that please” T’Challa was quiet. Maybe if he pretended to have fallen asleep she would leave him alone. Again he was wrong. Alix got up and turned on the light and stood in front of T’Challa’s face. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Alix.
“Alix, please, can we talk about this tomorrow. It is bedtime and very soon Abiona will wake up and I would like to sleep a little before then”
“ T’Challa I want to talk about this now or I won’t be able to sleep.”
T’Challa rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling while asking Bast why he had to fall in love with the most stubborn woman. He finally pushed himself to sit up on the bed “what would you like to talk about Alix” she began to fidget as she normally did when they had to have a serious conversation
“ Why are you mad at me?” T’Challa chuckled then squinted his eyes trying to remember he loved the woman in front of him and to choose his words carefully.
“ You are kidding right? Or you just want me to say it.” He stared at her feeling his anger building.
“Alix, we are so supposed to be moving in less than three months. I am here bragging to David that I finally feel on the same page as you and that I can go to Wakanda without feeling that confusion that you have had me moving in since I found out that our daughter was a reality. Only for me to hear not from you, the woman I am making life plans with, but from your friend who says it thinking we are on the same page I think we are on, that you don’t plan on getting rid of the apartment.” T’Challa’s voice was suddenly getting louder as his word vomit began to take over. Alix slowly began to enter a shell. She hated when T’Challa was mad or felt hurt by her. She didn’t know how to deal with it because she knew he took so much from her and never complained. She never knew where to restart after he had reached the point of yelling. “The worst part is instead of you to talk to me after or trying to apologize for not expressing how you feel, you decided to coerce me like a baby into forgetting the whole situation. It upsets me that you take my favourite things and use them as a way to get what you want, but on a normal day you can’t just do it. And now that all I want to do is sleep this when your stubbornness kicks in and we have to have this conversation so let us have it then! Why in Bast name do you want to keep this apartment Alixandre?!” T’Challa finally finished and looked at Alix waiting for a response he was certain he knew the answer too. Alix could not even look him in the eye.
“ Well, we are going to visit and we will need a place to stay so, yeah.” She gave the lame excuse in full confidence because no matter what Alix would always put up a good fight. T’Challa closed his eyes before speaking.
“Okay, but we had discussed getting a larger place that would have more room for visitors and proper space for the baby. This apartment was meant for you alone. We are a family now so we need a family space do we not?”
“Yes, but.” T’Challa was growing more and more frustrated as the conversation went on. 
“But what Alix? You know what, I don’t feel like playing this game anymore so I will answer for you. You are afraid to have a place where we both sign the lease right? This spot is still so much yours and for some reason if this does not work out, because you always seemed prepared for that option rather than trying to work it out, you would have a place to stay, correct? A place that is solely yours and not ours. A safe haven that doesn’t include me. Although I cannot even imagine my safe haven not being with you.” Alix was loss for words, she didn’t want to feel this way but she did and she didn’t know how to change it.
She opened her mouth a few times but no words ever followed. T’Challa stared at her looking as hurt as he felt. He really did not know what else he could say or do to convince the only woman he had loved like this that he did not plan on going anywhere and that his love for her only changed to grow. His eyes began to water from frustration and heartbreak. Abiona began to cry and he immediately got up to go to her so Alix wouldn’t see his tears. He was tired of being the one to reveal  all of his emotions. 
After soothing her back to sleep, T’Challa did not come back to bed. Alix got up to find him sleeping on the couch. Her chest felt as though there were a ton of bricks laying on it. She went back to her cold bed and let out a cry.  She was upset at mostly herself for not allowing T’Challa  into her heart. And now she may have finally pushed him away. He did say he would only leave if she told him to, and all she had been doing from the beginning was telling him she did not need him. She did not know what to do anymore. Her head ached as she cried herself to sleep.
Taglist:
@chaneajoyyy @writingmarvellousimagines @oceanscorazon @teechallas-blog @ashanti-notthesinger @wakanda-inspired @90sinspiredgirl @lovely-geek @fonville-designs @chefjessypooh @dopeegalkk
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chocolateghost · 6 years
Text
Jonsa Office AU Anyone???
Ok so I’ve had this story idea for a long time, and thanks to the encouragement of @uchihabat @asongforjonsa and @patritxi I think I’m finally ready to tackle it. So the idea is that Jon/Sansa are Jim/Pam and each new chapter will cover a different episode. I’ll start at the beginning and probably only go up to somewhere in the fourth season just because I'm a slut for all the mutual pining and the angst. But I’ll be sure to give ya’ll some fluff along the way.
So what follows here is just a little sneak peak specially requested by @uchihabat. She is hella bloodthirsty and was dying for a good fight so here I’ve altered the Jim and Roy non-fight from season 3 to make a more delicious Jon and Harry fight. Dany is Karen. Get rekt h8rs.
This is pretty damn angsty so be warned. Also Madeleine, I’m sorry if this isn’t bloody enough lol. It’s the first fight I’ve ever written and this is just a rough little sketch and will most likely be altered when the time actually comes in the story. Pretty much all the dialogue is ripped directly from the show with minor changes here and there to suit my needs.
Let me know if you’re interested to see more! Enjoy!
*******
Sansa’s eyes stared unfocused at the paper on her desk. The words on the page blurred and jumbled together. She was desperately trying to not pay attention to Jon and Dany making plans 5 feet in front of her. She was failing miserably.
“So, do you want to see it or not?” Dany asked Jon with a beautiful grin.
“I don't know. I feel like, Friday night crowds…” Jon grumbled, trailing off. Sansa hated the way her body reacted to his low gravelly voice. For a moment, her eyes shifted up to the back of his head. It was a view she’d gotten to know very well the past 5 months and 13 days. Not that she was counting or anything. She blinked a few times and once again tried to focus on the purchase order form that should have been filled out an hour ago.
“Oh my god. You're like agoraphobic,” Dany teased.
“Agoraphobic? Really?” Jon mused in return.
“Uh yeah!” she laughed. “You would rather sit on your couch and watch a Direwolves game than go out to a movie with your awesome girlfriend.”
“Absolutely correct.” Jon made to stand and Sansa’s eyes immediately jumped to his body. Long and lean, she saw the strain of his shirt against the muscles of his back as he slipped his sport coat on. Not wanting the cameras to catch her staring, she quickly averted her eyes back to the paper.
Sansa sighed and wished for the millionth time that things were different. That it was she and Jon making plans. That she could be the one teasing him. But Jon didn’t want her. He wanted Dany. And Sansa was just going to have to learn to deal with the two of them being cute together and rubbing it right in her face. She can’t imagine she’ll ever get used to the sinking feeling in her chest at the sight of them together. Is this how Jon used to feel when Harry would come up to the office?
A few days have passed since the failed rekindling of her relationship with Harry ended in a crash of glass and beer bottles. She’d heard through Margaery that he and his brother had practically destroyed Poor Rickard’s in his anger.
Sansa should have never gotten back together with him. She should have known better. She did know better. But her crippling loneliness had clouded her judgment and let her fall into Harry’s outstretched arms in a moment of weakness.
It had all been a big mistake - getting back together with him and confessing to him. But still, she’d thought that maybe he might be able to understand and forgive her for kissing Jon last year. She realizes now that she had been a fool to even entertain the thought. Sansa was just glad that Harry hadn’t tried to come after Jon at all. That was the last thing she wanted.
“Okay,” Dany started, “so this is what's gonna happen. You're going to suck it up…”
“Here we go,” Jon interjected as he gathered up his things and started putting them in his bag.
“...and we're gonna go to dinner. And then we're gonna go to the movies.”
“Sounds good.” The tone Jon used sounded less enthusiastic and more defeated. Or at least that’s how Sansa interpreted it as she silently willed the two of them to just leave already. But just when it finally seemed they were about to, Harry burst into the office red-faced and angry.
“Hey, Snow!”
Jon slowly turned his body halfway to the door, his eyes briefly flitting to Sansa before settling on Harry. Dany was the only thing standing between the two.
“Hey…” Jon offered cautiously.
Sansa’s mouth hung open and her eyes jumped back and forth between the two men. This was it - the moment she’d been dreading. She sat rooted to her chair, powerless to do anything. When she saw Harry's fist clench, Sansa shouted out his name in a weak attempt to stop him.
But it was too late.
Harry lunged and Dany screamed as Jon pushed her out of the way just in time for a meaty fist to slam into Jon's face with a sick crunch. He toppled backwards onto his desk, knocking over his computer and scattering his things to the floor. Jon was quick to recover though, rolling off the desk and scrambling back to his feet before Harry could land another blow.
Now frenzied, Harry whipped his fist around, catching Jon on the cheek and smearing blood down the side of his face. Jon caught himself mid-stumble and pushed his weight forward into Harry. His fist connected and a gush of blood spurted out of Harry’s nose, spraying into the air.
Some of the droplets landed on Sansa’s desk and she watched them with rapt attention as the men tumbled down on top of one another, the sound of screams and fists colliding with flesh filling her ears. At some point, security came to pull the two apart. As Harry was being dragged away he shouted obscenities at Jon.
“She was my fiancee you motherfucker! I trusted you!”
“You didn't deserve her,” Jon spoke softly, spitting blood on the rough industrial carpet as Dany tried her best to comfort her injured boyfriend.
Sansa wanted to scream. She wanted to cry - for herself, for Jon, for Harry, even for Dany. But she couldn’t. Her eyes could only focus on the way Jon’s knuckles looked. Bloodied and raw - just how she felt on the inside.
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So what do you think? Interested? ;)
84 notes · View notes
bad-end · 6 years
Text
the ecliptic (5/11) - brumaire
brumaire| 3087 words
elsword | EE, AP
priest!AU: a peaceful life for two people waiting for the rain.
The crops in the garden today hung low on their branches and bent their backs low in the dirt with the heavy toil of the corruption beating down. There was no reason to stand in the garden and watch each day, but Erbluhen always stood there anyway. Maybe one of these days, the crops would bloom and he would find himself blessed by Ishmael.
Behind him, Aspostaia fetched the oversized sunhat he had discarded to the side from the fencepost and placed it on Erbluhen's head. He whipped around and gasped, "Sia, when did you get there?"
"Surprise." Apostasia said with almost a smile in his voice, "Come inside." He held the door open.
"Oh," Erbluhen smiled, "Welcome back. Did you have a safe trip?"
Apostasia nodded languidly and held out a scroll of parchment, "Letter for you."
The smile disappeared. He stared at the letter in Apostasia's hand and his expression fell as he accepted it. It was like someone who was expecting failure and had it delivered to him on a silver platter. "Well, thank you.... Did you go to the old camp today?"
A nod.
"Why?" Erbluhen thumbed the outlines of the parchment, dragging out the moment he would have to break open the seal, "There's nothing there."
"I went to make sure the dead stayed dead."
"We.. burned the bodies. There's nothing to reanimate." The thought made his stomach churn. His former companions, reanimated. While it wasn't impossible, the thought that it could occur made him sick.
"This place plays with your perceptions and your memories. Had to check and make sure they didn't spread this far."
"You're... I know you're right. I just don't want to believe it."
Although that was what he said, he was more focused on the letter in his hands. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and ramming itself against his chest. The personal seal in the shape of a spear made his breath hitch. Arme Thaumaturgy had written his reply. No doubt it was about the promise. Erbluhen hadn't forgotten the promise, but with the way things were going, he wouldn't be back before the first flowers of spring.
With a deep sigh, he broke the seal. The navy blue ink shimmered off the parchment. He could see the richness of the pigment and Arme bent over his desk as he so painstakingly wrote the letter. Arme's beautiful calligraphy only made his chest tighten even worse. He could only afford a quick scan since any longer a gaze would make it hard to breathe.
In the letter, Arme accused him of something or another. Despite the harshness of Arme's words, the worry leapt off the page. The ink gathered in some places as the writer hesitated and held back on his words. Words scratched out indicated that Arme had to rewrite his words, choosing words that were more gentle so as to not insult Erbluhen completely
But he couldn't do as Arme said in these letters. Instead of responding or pouring over the details, he folded the parchment back up and followed Apostasia into the house.
The smell of warm tea and powdered sugar drowned any other smell of the living room. The dust that had made itself home so many months before disappeared as soon as Erbluhen got his hands on some cleaning supplies.
Apostasia poured him a cup of tea in one of the three delicate cups that did not belong in the wild. His eyes fell upon the cup that was meant for him. The glint of the candle against the warm, honey-coloured tea made a shiver run up his spine.
He thought it odd that there was no question about the letter or where it had arrived. He reasoned it as Apostasia being polite, and that he chose to respect his privacy. Either way, telling Apostasia about Arme would make a complicated story, and he'd rather not open another can of worms. This peaceful life was just fine.
"I'll get started on dinner, " Erbluhen smiled, placing the folded parchment on the table, "I was able to get some of the potatoes today, so let's have some baked potatoes."
Apostasia sipped from his own black and silver cup. His eyes had fallen soft and were focused on Erbluhen instead. Meanwhile, the priest reached for the same apron to tie around his waist. He was babbling about potato dishes he knew how to make even though they didn't have many ingredients at all.
They were mostly simple dishes, stuff he could make in large numbers to feed the mouths that begged at the church, but filling nonetheless. Apostasia listened as if he was speaking in revelations.
A week or so had passed since Apostaia invited him to move in. Erbluhen quickly took over the household chores Apostasia neglected in his solitary life. Dusting, sweeping, cooking, cleaning, laundry and gardening was no match for the likes of him. When he was offered help, Erbluhen rejected it all vehemently. It was all his. No one else was supposed to touch anything else.
All the chores were just an excuse. The restlessness settled in any moment he was not moving. He was waiting for something. Even though he knew what it was, he didn't know when. There was nothing he could do until then but to keep working and keeping himself busy.
In the meantime, he had discovered the tiny house had not one, but three bedrooms on the second floor. Apostasia's room could barely be qualified as a room. It was a tiny hole in the wall with a single blanket over a rotted wooden floor with an unreachable, slit-sized window. "Don't you want at least some candles in here?" Erbluhen asked, and received a negative response.
Erbluhen's room was the room in the back of the house. It wasn't spacious, but it had the biggest window and the best source of light. When the weather shifted and the fog lifted just a bit, the sun almost shone through. The bay window had a comfortably extended sill, where Erbluhen had taken to overlooking the garden in the back. Sometimes he would sit there for hours, seeing something nostalgic even though he had never been here before.
A green, lush garden and surrounding forest decorated the barren garden in his mind.
The last room was locked. Apostasia said he had lost the keys a long time ago.
But sleeping in a real bed, eating at the table, talking peacefully with Apostasia and doing these daily chores made his restlessness even worse. There was someone missing. The three rooms, the table with three chairs, the three teacups with only two being used, Erbluhen could only think about that person stuck in the capital, worrying about him in the wild.
After a modest dinner of baked potatoes, Erbluhen took the letter from the table and shoved it in a drawer in the corner of his room.
A week turned into two, and slowly the daily chores became normal. Breakfast was followed by a break, and then they would go for a walk around the garden or maybe even into the forest. Erbluhen would pluck carrots or potatoes or whatever had managed to grow that day and they would put them in a basket for lunch or dinner. When the weather permitted them, they would do laundry. They would have lunch afterwards and Erbluhen would try to bake something for tea time with almost no sugar and the little potato flour they had. Eventually, they would have dinner and retire to their own rooms.
Thankfully, Erbluhen noted, the small well by Apostasia's house seemed to have a comfortable amount of safe water.
But other than that, there wasn't much to do, and when they had nothing to do, Erbluhen prodded at Apostasia's buttons: Where he had come from, what he could remember, what he thought the world was like before the corruption, and especially what he meant when he said that he 'had been here since the world began'.
Apostasia stayed tight-lipped, even as Erbluhen threaded his fingers in Apostsia's hair and pulled them into long braids and placed an affectionate, chaste kiss at the top of his crown when they bid each other good night.
Every couple of days, Apostasia would return to the abandoned camp. "This place plays on your memory, I need to make sure it's safe here, so stay." Erlubhen did, dusting furniture he had dusted a hundred times before, or wiping dishes he had wiped a thousand times already.
What he was really waiting for was the letter. When he saw it in Apostasia's hand upon his return, the nerves would return. The colour of his usual joy drained from his face with only the dread remaining. His throat seized up, and he would cough and find his voice dying in his throat.
Apostasia asked, "...There are no pigeons here, how are the letters arriving?"
Erbluhen recited a practiced response with a hollow smile, "Ishmael's shrines are all connected. The pillars from which they are built remember where they were born. All it needs it to be linked to Ishmael through the blood of her kin."
Cryptic, he thought, but he thought of the rock Erbluhen had given to Chase and Rune and understood. "Chase and Rune won't be coming back."
"My friend in the capital will make sure of it. I don't want them coming back here and risking their lives."
Without letting Apostasia ask another question, Erbluhen broke the seal. His expression fell as usual, and the farther he read, the more downtrodden his expression became.
Apostasia wanted to not care, but something in his chest he thought had stopped hundreds of years ago begged him to reconsider. "Who's writing all of them?"
Erbluhen swallowed and searched for right words "My partner. He's one of the most important people in the world to me."
"One... of?"
" Arme Thaumaturgy, the goddess herself, and you."
"... Doesn't that sound contradictory? You would favour an outcast and a goddess at once?"
"I would. I decide whose important to me, and that's not something else anyone else can decide for me."
With his faith reaffirmed, Erbluhen returned to his letter.
How the letters made Erbluhen so upset made Apostasia upset too. He knew Erbluhen kept them all in a drawer somewhere as if clinging to the one thing linking him to his old life but didn't want anyone to find out. "Why didn't you deliver messages to the capital earlier, back at the camp?"
"To tell you the truth, in the chaos of it all, I had forgotten."
But Erbluhen looked more like he was trying to convince himself, so Apostasia changed the unpleasant topic, "What's the capital like?
"It's the biggest human settlement in the past several hundred years that we know of. It's protected by Ishmael's protection and tall white walls surrounding the settlement. You can see the church from miles away." Erbluhen sighed, "I would have liked to take you there one day. The streets are wide, and the people are kind. It's rare for us to need anything.
"But I don't know the way back. We wouldn't be able to go now."
Again, Erbluhen looked like he was trying to convince himself first.
The weather permitted them to do laundry one day. The clouds covering the sun had lifted a bit, and Erbluhen scrambled to get the clotheslines up. All their dirty clothes, not that there were many, hung from the laundry line, blowing in the wind.
Erbluhen watched the way the wind played with the fabric, and how it tossed Apostasia's hair into a messy bundle and laughed such a lively laugh he had not heard for weeks. Apostasia brushed the hair from his face and watched Erbluhen surrender himself to the breeze. He looked so at peace, Apostasia thought that if he wasn't careful, Erbluhen would disappear without warning.
Apostasia said suddenly, "We should go to the church."
Erbluhen opened his eyes slowly, "I'm ready when you are."
With a brighter sky above them, their path seemed only half as long. Unlike the last time, the branches were absent from the undergrowth, and the trees parted easily as they crossed. They had arrived in the church by the early afternoon.
The sun was shining from above. Erbluhen basked in the warmth of it all. The air was crisp and fresh. He took deep, big breathes as the stale air cycled out of him. He didn't go inside like Apostasia would have expected him to. A prayer, perhaps, to his goddess. But he didn't do that, he merely sat down on the grassy hill the church stood on and ran his fingers against the grass and invited Apostasia to join him. Erbluhen stared into the green horizon as if seeing a mirage, but broke it off and leaned against Apostasia instead.
"Thank you, " He buried his face into Apostasia's shoulder,  "I've been having a great time. I'm glad to have met you. I'm glad you came with me when I asked."
He wasn't there. Sure, he was there physically, but the soul that made Erbluhen the light that he was, wasn't there. Erbluhen wasn't talking to him but through him. Panic shot through Apostasia's spine, and he whirled around to seize Erbluhen's shoulders, squeezing them too roughly with his nails digging too deep into his skin and his face leaned too far forwards to invade ERbluhen's private space. The pain was good. It would remind him that he was still alive.
Apostasia's eyes, which had once been so hollow, had never before been so full of emotion, but Erbluhen's warm, emerald coloured eyes as sweet as honey, had grown dull and cold. Apostasia could see nothing in the void that had shrouded them.
"Come back," Apostasia whispered with the desperation of a pleading child, "Don't go, not yet. Stay with me just a little longer. Come back, Erbluhen, stay here. Don't go to her. It's not your time yet.
"Sorry-I... spaced out?" Erbluhen blinked, several times, and when the flush of his cheeks turned pink again, and the sun had returned to his expression, Apostasia finally sighed of relief and let go, "Did you say something?"
Apostasia lied, "No, nothing at all."
But he leaned his head on Erbluhen's shoulder and closed his eyes.
They sat in that position until the sun over the church began to set and the brilliant evening glow set the heavens ablaze.
The next couple of days passed eventlessly, but eventually, rain fell from the heavens above. They were small patters at first, and eventually, a rolling thunderstorm had formed in the badlands. The pellets pounded against the windows. So far, Erbluhen had relied on Apostasia's judgement on whether water or safe or not and thus it was the first time he had seen rain in several months.
He glanced at the laundry on the living room table and sighed. Even though he had finished washing it earlier, there was no point in hanging it up now. By tomorrow, they would have started smelling. Oh well, they'd just have to do them again.
Apostasia's footsteps behind him disturbed whatever thoughts he had. Instead of moping about the pie, Erbluhen smacked his cheeks to shake the thoughts out and turned around to greet him. "Sia, let's bake a pie. It'll be fun."
Apostasia played along, "... I don't have a recipe."
"It's just pie. We'll figure it out together." Erbluhen rolled up his sleeves and handed Apostasia the apron, "I was gonna do laundry, but it's raining and we can't go out anyway, so help me!"
Apostasia pulled apart the curtains to check. Indeed, water was trailing down the window panes, and the rain didn't seem like it was going away any time soon. "Alright then, let's bake a pie."
Baking a pie was rather difficult without a recipe, and it took most of the day and several failed attempts, but Erbluhen made sure a rather lopsided pie was sitting on the counter, ready to be consumed. Erbluhen looked more lively than he had in weeks, and Apostasia sighed in relief as he watched Erbluhen poke and prod at it to make sure it was the right amount of baked.
Erbluhen served him a slice of pie, "Try it!"
The sweet of the sugar and the sour of the dough in the pie made the taste not quite right. By all means, it was a pie in look, but Erbluhen had made do with the actual ingredients. It was a little sour and a little undercooked, but they had done well for a no-recipe attempt. In any case, Apostasia was a poor judge of taste to begin with. "Erbluhen, you should-"
But Erbluhen had spaced out again. Apostasia placed ah and over Erbluhen's hand, and the moment they made contact, the priest jerked out of his trance.
"Don't forget about the laundry."
"Oh! It's raining today, so let's do it tomorrow. When the weather is better."
"Alright," Apostasia said with hesitation, "I'll remind you tomorrow."
"Thank you. Anything else?"
"Have some pie, you worked hard on it. It's not bad."
Erbluhen shook his head, "I'm not hungry. Later, for sure."
But by bedtime, Erbluhen still wasn't hungry, and he didn't want to pressure Erbluhen into doing anything he didn't want to do. Still, he couldn't fall asleep and spent the night staring at the light that filtered through his thin slit of a window.
The stairs creaked underneath Erbluhen's weight. His own breath was peppered by small coughs. Although he was trying to be as silent as possible, the efforts had failed.
Concerned, Apostasia followed him under the guise of shadows. The rain hadn't made the house any colder, but in the den, Erbluhen had lit the fireplace.
The drawer of personal letters was set down in front of the fireplace, and Erbluhen was feeding each letter individually into the flames. The way his eyes reflected the flames sent a shiver down Apostasia's shrine, but tomorrow they would do laundry, he reminded himself.
Tomorrow, the rain would stop, and tomorrow, they would do laundry.
He left Erbluhen and his letters at the fireplace, and returned to his dark room, wishing for a tomorrow that would never come.
A letter arrived at the collapsed shrine in the abandoned camp in the middle of the corrupted lands that Ishmael had forsaken for a priest she no longer claimed as her own.
.a -
.uoy rof emoc I litnu ecalp taht evael t'nod 
『 if just ONE THING is eliminated, then this world will continue on. 』
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