#i’m not even truly off book i just listen to text to speech of my lines while i’m sleeping
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i’ve been too unormal lately
#im so tallsettos#crazy times on pluto#i need to stop#somewhere that’s green reprise i will cry#what even is little shop#rehearsals stop please#i’m not even truly off book i just listen to text to speech of my lines while i’m sleeping#it’s working kinda#weirdest thing of tags i’ve posted i think#no one in this science building knows i’m listening to little shop#little shop kills and saves me#both our audreys are gone this whole week#school is not real i swear to god#also heart shaped sunglasses fav always#i don’t know what i’m doing in tags rn#talked to my drama teacher about harmony#which ended up with me finding out he went to highschool with someone who was in smash and hes prolly gonna invest in the new bway producti#i love movies i’m a self proclaimed film bro#i hate rain#is this a brain dump rn
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Archie Andrews- Frozen Ice
Taken from my book on wattpad, just changed to fit a YN x Archie Andrews imagine
Cheryl hasn’t been answering her phone which is extremely worrying, especially after the text I had saying she was going to be with Jason. So now here we were are, Jughead, Archie, Veronica, Betty and I running the frozen Sweetwater River
“Oh my god there she is” I yell pointing to Cheryl stood breaking the ice.
“CHERYL STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Archie yells taking my hand and pulling me even closer to the frozen water. We attempt to run across the ice, but it’s not strong enough to hold our weight
"CHERYL PLEASE" Veronica yells "just come to the shore we can figure this out all together ok?"
“Cheryl she’s right. Just start walking to us slowly. We’ll help you” I shout
Cheryl nods her head and begins to take a step to walk back to us but the ice under us gives way. Forgetting that the ice is so thin we begin to run towards her. Archie tells me to go back to make sure I’m safe, but of course I don’t listen and continue to run. I watch as Archie begins breaking the ice with his fists to get to Cheryl. Jug manages to pull her out, but the ice breaking from underneath me
“YN!” is the last thing I hear before everything becomes muffled. The water is so cold that I feel numb. Soon enough everything goes black.
Suddenly I'm coughing up water with Archie sitting next to me and Betty holding my hand. The girls sigh in relief. I shiver feeling extremely cold
“Babe are you ok?”
“Y-yeah” I shiver “ch-Cheryl?” I look around to see Cheryl crying while Veronica is rubbing her arms up and down to try and keep her warm, or attempt to warm her up
"Let's get you warmed up ok?" Archie scoops me in his arms and carries me to his dads truck. Inside are some blankets that I wrap around myself.
"Oh my god YN are you ok?” mum and dad runs into the living room where I'm sat by the fire with Archie’s arm around me and a hot chocolate in my hands
"Mum, dad, I wasn't... I didn't.... It's not..." I splutter
"I know. Archie rang me and told me what happened, how you were trying to get to Cheryl"
"I should have listened to you Arch”
"Shhh shhhh it's ok. Your safe now thats all that matters. I'm not going to the Jubilee tonight. I’m going to stay here with you”
"Errr no your not you are going to that jubilee” I snap at Archie "we all are"
"No, you blacked out. I had to give you CPR"
"Archie I'm fine. Now go and get your guitar and get ready to play"
"Are you sure YN?" mum asks worriedly
"I'm sure"
"Welcome one and all to Riverdales 75th anniversary jubilee celebration" Mayor McCoy says into the microphone on the stage as we all clap "I couldn't be more thrilled to introduce my daughter Josie and her pussycats as they perform alongside our local hero Archie Andrews" Betty squeezes my hand a little, we're stood off to the side to watch. Once again everyone starts clapping
"Hi everyone. We're switching things up tonight we are singing a song that my boy Archie wrote" Josie says and the music starts. Archie starts playing his guitar and singing. My eyes start watering and I feel so proud of my boyfriend. When he's finished the song he walks off stage, I hug my him and Betty walks on to give her speech
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I'd like to thank Mayor McCoy for inviting me to speak on this historic day. 75 years of Riverdale. But what is Riverdale? It's the people right? You, me, friends, our neighbours. Riverdale is Archie Andrew. Kevin Keller is Riverdale, Veronica Lodge, YN YLN, but you know who else is Riverdale? FP Jones. We were so quick to blame for Jason's murder. Jughead Jones is Riverdale, the very soul of Riverdale. Without him, we would have lost Cheryl tonight and we would have never found out what truly happened to Jason. And yet how do we thank him? By banishing him. Which is what we do when the truth is to ugly in Riverdale. Truth being that Clifford Blossom was also Riverdale. Riverdales at a crossroads. If we don't face the reality of who and what we are then what happened to Jason could happen again. Riverdale must do better. We must do better" Betty finishes and the room is silent. I stand up and start to clap, I hear someone clapping behind me and turn to see Jughead clapping. Soon the whole room is stood up clapping.
After the jubilee we sit in Pops at a booth with a milkshake each
"To Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones who saves the cheerleaders and saved the town" Veronica says
"Actually I think that was Betty's speech" Arch says
"Here here to Betty Cooper"
"Cheers" we all says clinking our milkshakes together.
That night we had many milkshakes and that night in the booth at pops we felt safe, but deep down I know this feeling won't last and soon we will be back to doing what we seem to do best.... Solving murders
#archie andrews#archie comics#riverdale imagines#riverdale#archie andrews x reader#Archie Andrews x Y/N
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Curious - Draco Malfoy x Reader
*redoing it again because i accidentally deleted the text
requested by the lovely @the--queen-of-hell request: So imagine Draco coming to visit you in your room, but just as he's about to knock on the door, he hears voices inside the room so he realizes you're not alone. You had invited your friends over (let's say Hermione and Ron are there keeping you company). Draco hears that they're both asking you and talking about HIM, so he stays a little bit longer, curious what you have to say. And they ask if Draco is in any way horrible to you, if he's mean to you. But you actually get overly defensive for your boyfriend. You tell them that they will never know him like you do, and that he's extremely sweet, and lovely. That no body really gives him a real chance, that he deserves love and comfort as everyone else... So, time passes and you go out of your room and think about visiting draco, since you haven't seen him all day. You knock on his door, and once he opens it, he just pulls you in for a deep, but soft kiss. And then he pulls over and holds you in his embrace, then he whispers something like "thank you so much, for being in my life... for being by my side, always" fasjfklsmflksfj ;_;
It was a beautiful Saturday morning in Hogwarts. The sun was shining, the air was breezy, it was a sweater weather, and it was a beautiful day for Draco to take you on another date at Hogsmeade.
The two of you officially showed the world that you two were a couple during the first weeks of the current school year. Sparks only started flying during the summer before the school year. His family and yours being close ties with each other decided to travel over the summer together. Being the only teenagers during the whole trip leads you to getting to know each other.
With each quiet walk at night together or sitting together during meal times or trips to destinations, it showed that you started taking an interest in each other and later on fancying each other. It only took that very special night to finally express your love for each other.
During one of those free days your parents had given you during the trip, Draco asked permission from both families if he could take you somewhere else for the day, including the night. During the day, he didn’t schedule any tours or guides for the day - no, he knew you wanted a free day wherein there were no tour guides or following authorities around. He found a nice garden for the two of you to walk around and lay on the grass and talk about literally anything. He opened up so much with you that you realized that he wasn’t exactly the resident bad boy of Hogwarts. He was a kind and loving person just like anyone else. For the night, oh, you were really lucky you wore something formal enough because this man booked two seats at one of the most fanciest places in the city you were visiting. Your table being in a secluded place gave him the privacy to start expressing his love for you, asking if you would like to take the relationship to the next level. Without thinking about it, you nodded, telling him you felt the same way.
Now that school started, you both showed the world that you two were a thing. With holding hands, to small kisses around people, it told them that you, Y/N Y/L/N, were madly in love with Draco Lucius Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince, that everyone either despised him or were scared of him.
Of course half the school had the opposite thoughts that you were hoping not to hear. But you didn’t care and neither did Draco. It wasn’t their problem and they couldn’t manage to break you two up. Draco would personally have his father hear about any issues involving his son’s life and his girlfriend���s. You were technically family to the Malfoy’s already so Lucius would be willing to stand up for you.
As it was a beautiful Saturday in Hogwarts, you got dressed up, enhanced your appearance, and began styling your hair. Placing the finishing touches to your appearance, you heard two knocks from the door. Assuming it was Draco picking you up earlier than expected, you started rushing your touches a little bit. “Hold on, Draco, just finishing a few touches to my appearance.”
Expecting to hear Draco come up with a way to compliment you, you were replied with a different voice which stunned you a little bit. “Oh, it’s not Draco,” said a feminine voice, “It’s Hermione.”
“Hermione?” you asked with curiosity.
“Yes, along with Harry and Ron.”
All your final touches came to an end when you started walking up slowly to open the door to three slightly uncomfortable students in your year. The Golden Trio weren’t exactly the closest to you. Sure, you had moments where you’d talk to them, ask them how it’s going, and casually walk with them in Hogsmeade but not close enough to be an honorary member and tag along in their activities. So, it was a little uncomfortable for you to have them in your room as well. Nevertheless, you opened the door wide, and motioned for them to come in.
“Have a seat anywhere.” you welcomed them in.
“Thanks.” they all said in sync.
“You look nice.” Hermione spoke, “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, Hogsmeade, with Draco. But it’s a tad bit early so I’m not leaving yet.”
“Excellent, because we were hoping to talk to you.” Harry said. He stood up from your chair and walked toward you slowly. He looked unsure of his actions but wanted to show you the level of importance of the conversation.
At the same time, Draco was walking towards your door, but quickly enough to hear a familiar voice just speak from your room. Thinking it was coming from the other room, he ignored it, but that voice… it was masculine, and really familiar. He slowly placed his ear on the door and started listening.
On the other side of the door, you started speaking again.
“Oh. Well, what is it Harry?”
Harry? Draco was angrily confused to hear Harry Potter in your room. Thinking it was just him and you alone, he was right about to storm in and scold Harry until another voice spoke.
“It’s about Draco!” Hermione said, rolling her eyes at Harry who took a mere three seconds to say his enemy’s name. “We wanted to talk to you about your relationship with Draco.”
“Oh,” you crossed your arms, “What about him and I?” you started sounding upset as you were quite aware of their standings with him. “I suppose you’re going to tell me how awful it is to be with him and that I should break up with him, don’t you?”
Hermione gave pitiful eyes as she thought you were reading a bit of her mind. She walked towards you and placed her hands on your shoulders and sighed. “We just want to know if he’s any way horrible to you, Y/N. This is Draco we’re talking about, he’s been nothing but vile and cruel to everyone in Hogwarts.”
“Yeah, and we’re just surprised that you wanted to date the most bloody evit git in school. Is it some arranged thing your parents have going on with his? We can help get you out of it.” Ron added.
Hearing all this monstrosity, Draco decided to put your relationship with him to the test and stay, as he was curious to what you would say next. He trusted you of course but he just wanted to hear your comments about this without him being exactly there.
Upset, you threw Hermione’s hands off your shoulders and jumped a step back from her, resulting in her doing the same thing. “Merlin’s beard!” you screamed. “You just never give him a chance, do you?”
“I-I don’t follow, Y/N.” Harry terrifyingly spoke.
“Being with Draco has been the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. You actually don’t know how much of an extremely loving, caring, and sweet person he can actually be because you always throw fights and awful things to him the second you see him. You know, when I first had the chance to interact with him last summer, I wasn’t even hesitant of avoiding him because I actually sensed that underneath his black suit, he was a great person to know more of and I’m lucky that I didn’t treat him the way you guys do because you know, people want to be treated the way they treat people. If I wanted respect, I gave him respect. He deserves love and comfort like anyone else in this entire world and I’m glad to be filling that empty part of his life that he’s been craving for.”
Right after your triumphant speech, Draco quickly rushed all the way to his dorm because as a matter of fact, he was starting to tear up and what better way to hide his softness from the entire school body than run back to his room to hopefully stop crying. But he couldn’t. It was really difficult for him to because throughout his entire life, he has never had somebody like you to defend him as a person. He really couldn’t believe he finally had someone like you in his life. If people knew how soft he was, he could have opened the door and started crying on his knees, telling you how much he loves you. But the stupid golden trio just had to be there, he thought.
“Oh,” Harry said. “Well, that was a surprise.”
“Yeah, he totally didn’t give her amortentia.” Ron joked, which only resulted in Hermione and you looking at him deadly. “What?” he innocently asked.
“I’m really sorry I had to lash out that way. It’s just-”
“No, we get it,” Hermione said, “I’m really glad he has someone. Maybe he can actually soften up in school. I hope you can keep it that way.” she smiled.
“Believe me, he’s really a soft person. But I think I can foresee him softening up in school, you just have to be around to see it.” you joked.
“Excellent, truly. You have to stay with him, Y/N, we’re counting on you to see a changed Malfoy over the years.” Harry smiled, giving you a small pat on the shoulder.
“Bet he’ll actually call you a friend by the end of our Hogwarts year?” you asked.
“Bloody hell, I’ll definitely keep my grades up in order to see that.” Ron looked at you with a surprise.
“See you around, Y/N.” Hermione said, giving you a small hug, only for you to give a bigger hug as she chuckled.
“Bye.” you said to them as they exited the room.
Well, that was quite a way to start the morning. All that lashing out got you to lay down in bed and actually forget about Hogsmeade for a second only to remember how you dressed up nicely for today. Standing up quickly, you started getting your gloves and ran out to Draco’s room immediately.
When you arrived at his door, you knocked twice, waiting for him to open the door. There was no response. So you tried again and knocked twice.
“Draco, it’s me. Y/N.”
The door immediately swung open as you saw Draco with slightly pink eyes and light bags under his eyes. Without hesitation, he pulled your waist for him to softly kiss you in the lips. As your lips and his were playing around, he wrapped his arms around you tighter, as he was trying not to forget this feeling of true love.
When he pulled back, you cupped his teary-eyed face with carefulness as you wiped a tear off his right eye. “Draco,” you cooed.
Having a hard time containing the emotions he was feeling, he embraced you with a bone-crushing hug, only for you to give him the same. You weren’t exactly sure why he was sobbing but he deserves a giant hug anyways. Giving him all the patience to speak up, he finally did, and it started out with a weak, “T-thank you.”
“For what, sweetheart?”
“For everything.”, he said, “"Thank you so much, for being in my life, and for being by my side, always.”
“Oh, Draco.” you said, rubbing his back, “You and me? This is forever.”
#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy imagines#draco lucius malfoy#Draco Malfoy#Draco Malfoy x Y/n#Draco Malfoy x you#Draco Malfoy fanfic#Draco Malfoy fanfiction#Slytherin#Draco Malfoy oneshots#Harry Potter#Harry Potter x Reader#Harry Potter Imagines#Tom Felton x Reader#Tom Felton
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Chance Encounter (sequel to The Premiere)
What happens when y/n and Cillian bump into each other again off set? Will their little agreement still stand?
Warning : Smut
Taglist - @queenshelby @peakyscillian @margoo0 @being-worthy @noctvrnalmoth @janelongxox
Your hair was done, your makeup flawless (if you did say so yourself) and you were finally ready. Your former costar Natasha was getting married and she'd invited you to the reception. You'd booked your hotel room and silently prayed to the god of all that is holy that Cillian was invited too. You knew your agreement half a year ago was that if you "worked together" again, you'd hook up, but surely agreements could have the odd caveat here and there, right? You just hoped he was still single... There had been plenty of buzz about him and a girl from back home reconnecting a few months ago but you'd never plucked up the courage to ask him outright. Last thing you wanted was to look desperate but truth be told? You were. A little. Okay, a lot, but you hid it well - no one had any inkling anything had happened that night at the casino, and that's just how you liked it. The rumour mill had piped down, even after THAT interview. But deep down you wanted more of the man that had truly captivated you. It annoyed you that he wasn't on any social media - there was no way of keeping in touch other than via text/call but neither of you had made contact with the other after that night.
You smoothed down your dress and grabbed your handbag. One quick check on your hair, and you made your way to the lift. Pressing the 'down' button, you felt two strong hands suddenly clinch your waist, making you (and your heart) jump.
"Too easy, y/n..." You spun on your heels and came face to face with Cillian, praying your foundation covered your burning cheeks. Game face on, you slapped his arm playfully. The tickle and slap had been your 'thing' all the way through Peaky Blinders.
"Mr Murphy, how the devil are you?" He embraced you warmly, greeting you the same way on old friend would - had he moved on?
"I'm excited to be here with everyone again, can't wait to see Tash's dress!" You smiled breaking away from him, hoping he couldn't feel your heart practically exploding through your dress.
"She'll look beautiful I'm sure." You held eye contact for a little longer than you should have, before the lift door pinged. Inside were Finn and Joe Cole, obviously having caught the lift from a higher floor. It suddenly dawned on you that your room was on the same floor as Cillian's... Stop it y/n...
"Hey!!! Peaky Reunion in full swing now!" Your onscreen brother and cousin pulled you both in for hugs as Cillian pressed the button for the ground floor.
Entering the large foyer, the beauty of the hotel where the reception was being held was breathtaking. The wedding flowers, lilies and roses, lined the corridors, leading the way to the large reception hall at the bottom of the corridor. Entering the room, you found the other cast members on a table together in the corner, and saw 4 empty seats around the table. Approaching the table plan in the corner, you groaned inwardly to see Natasha had placed you and Cillian right next to each other.
"Should be a fun evening, y/n.. what you drinking?" Cillian nudged you with a wink. Why was he so damn hard to read??
"Gin and lemonade please," you smirked, and he made his way to the bar with Joe. Finn joined you at the table, smirking at you.
"That flame still burning there y/n?" He nudged you as you took your seats. Finn one side of you, Cillian the other.
Conversation flowed around the table easily, the group of you catching up on the last six months. Most of you having taken a break from any kind of work for a while out of choice.
"I hear your love life is improving there Cillian!" Joe laughed, playfully punching the top of Cillian's arm. He didn't respond, just smiled shyly and rolled his eyes. Your heart dropped, he HAD moved on then..
He caught your eye and went to speak to you, before the music kicked in and the DJ announced the arrival of Natasha and her husband into the room. You all stood, cheering and clapping as the beautiful bride and her dashing husband entered, grinning like Cheshire Cats. The conversation with Cillian would have to wait...
The end of the night drew close and you were stood at the bar with a tipsy Natasha talking about her father's embarrassing yet beautiful speech, when the music suddenly turned down a notch. You were so happy for her, she looked absolutely radiant.. but the feelings in your heart were almost painful. You'd avoided Cillian all night, much to his dismay. He'd tried talking to you but you were determined to keep your distance. He was clearly taken, and you wouldn't dream of getting in the way of that. You couldn't help but notice him watching you from a distance throughout the night though, and you regularly scanned the room to check he was still around somewhere. Occasionally your eyes met, and you looked away quickly every time.
Natasha's wedding song played again through the speakers for the second time, the DJ inviting all the couples in the room up to the dance floor. Natasha kissed you cheek and hugged you, before heading off to find her new husband.
You felt those familiar hands on your waist, but they didn't tickle like normal, they gently turned you round in a 180 degree turn.
"Stop avoiding me." Those blue eyes pierced into yours.
"Very sure of yourself there, aren't you?"
"Every time I've got within 2 feet of you, you've moved away. I've tried to talk to you and you suddenly need the toilet.. or a cigarette.. or just plain walked away. Forgive me for thinking you were keeping a deliberate distance from me y/n." He looked serious, a side you rarely saw in him. He almost looked hurt.
"Listen, Cill.. you're clearly with someone okay? And I'm.. I'm just.. it's okay.. It really is. I -" His lips suddenly fell onto yours, silencing you, taking you completely by surprise. Now that, you weren't prepared for. You suddenly no longer cared about anyone else in the room, you lost yourself in his embrace, your kiss quickly becoming heated as your tongues met.
"What are you doing..." You breathed, pulling away.
"I'm not seeing anyone y/n, I never was. That girl is my publicist - yes we dated but we were 16.. she's married now, to my best friend ironically.. I'm single."
"Well you've just kissed me in a room full of people.."
"I know.. and I'll deal with that later, but right now I really don't care. I've been wanting to do that ever since that night."
"Why didn't you call me?" His hands were caressing your arms lightly as he chuckled to himself.
"I chickened out." You stifled a laugh.
"Me too... I didn't want to be the first to text!"
"Thank god Tash got married eh? How long you reckon we'd have gone on without talking for?"
"Oh come on, did you think you two sitting together at the table was a coincidence?" Joe appeared suddenly behind you at the bar. You both turned to look at him. "You two have been like lovestruck teenagers since Peaky finished - frankly we were sick of hearing about it!" You were stunned.. nobody knew? Did they?
"We all bloody knew." Joe was a mind-reader now, apparently. Cillian's hand found yours, and led you to the dance floor. You followed, positively glowing now, as he pulled you close to him, gently swaying with you to the music.
"Which room are you staying in?" He whispered in your ear, a hand running up your spine.
"Yours..." Your hands ran up the length of his arms, over his shoulders. The navy blue suit bringing out the blue in his eyes perfectly as he pulled you close for another kiss.
"What do you say we head there now.." that voice would be the death of you, as it whispered in your ear again. You could feel his arousal through his trousers as you nodded, kissing him again. He took off his suit jacket and held it over his crotch as you both made your way quickly to the lift, luckily no one stopping you.
Your bodies met in the elevator again, your body being pushed against the wall as he lifted you up to wrap your legs round his waist. His core grinding into yours. Your fingers tugging his hair as he kissed a trail down your neck.
"Need to stop or I swear I'm gonna fuck you in this lift y/n.." you shuddered at the deepness of his voice, when the door to the elevator opened and he carried you to his hotel room. Opening the door, your legs still wrapped around him, he carried you to the large dresser by the window and sat you on it, hitching your dress up and over your waist, pulling your underwear down your long, slender legs.
"I never got to taste you last time..." You groaned from the pulsing feeling in your core as he parted your legs and kissed a trail up your thighs. Meeting your core, his tongue traced over your clit painfully slowly as your back arched.
"Oh god... Yes.." working a slow rhythm at first, he added more pressure as you started to rock against his mouth, needing more and needing it now. "Feels so good..."
"You taste perfect y/n..." His assault continued with fervour, he soon had your back arched as you came against his tongue. Coming down from your high he got back to his feet as you breathed heavily into another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.
"I want you.. now Cillian..." The primal desire in his eyes was almost too much as you unbuckled his belt and trousers, letting them fall to the floor. Cupping his erection through his Calvin Kleins you felt him shudder slightly and gasp, standing you up to lift your dress over your head and unclasp your bra. His shirt was quickly removed as you pushed him backwards to fall onto the bed. Hooking your fingers in the waist band of his boxers shorts, you pulled them down allowing his hard cock to spring free. Giving it a gentle lick from the base to the tip, you sank your mouth down over it causing him to grip your hair and moan primally, never taking his eyes off you.
"Fuck.. your mouth feels good... Mm..." Your mouth was dancing over his shaft, a hand cupping his balls as you played with them.
Feeling his balls start to tighten, you lifted your mouth off him, bringing your body up the bed to meet his. His blue eyes were now almost black - you needed him inside you.. reading your mind he flipped you onto your front, opening your legs and lining himself up.
"Still on that coil thing?" He looked at you. You nodded, and he pushed into you slowly. You gasped at the invasion, he filled you up even better than he did before. Watching his eyes scrunch shut as he bottomed out, you smiled. He was perfect in every way, shape and form.. and after tonight's very public display, was he yours?
"I've wanted this for months... In fact I've wanted YOU for years..." You panted, lifting your hips to meet his gentle thrusts.
"You have me.. all of me.. you always have.." he thrusted between each sentence, sending shockwaves through you. He wasn't fucking you, he was making love to you.
He lifted you up, your legs wrapped round his waist as you moved together. Your lips met his as he ran his fingers smoothly down your spine, your arms wrapped over his shoulders as his thrusts met your hips perfectly. Your nails ran along his sculpted back, as he planted soft kisses over your collarbone. You had never felt anything like it - your bodies slotted together like jigsaw pieces, but you needed more. Turning your bodies, you pushed him onto his back and sank back onto his cock.
Rocking back and forth, building a steady rhythm you felt his hands roaming over your breasts causing you to ride a little harder.
"You're perfect, y/n, you know that? Absolutely perfect..." His eyes and hands were all over you. Pulling your waist up and down, he took over, lifting you slightly so he could thrust upwards, hitting that sweet spot inside easily. You brought a hand down to rub your clit as he began to pound harder into you from below, your orgasm drawing closer and closer.
"I'm gonna... Oh god Cillian I'm gonna cum..."
"Let me feel you... Let it happen baby I've got you..." You exploded over him, the most powerful orgasm you'd ever had. You felt your juices coat him, as your hand stopped rubbing his quickly took over, making you scream as he continued the pressure on your clit and your insides. You froze as you suddenly felt yourself lose complete control of your body, gushing over his chest as he made your pussy squirt hard over his chest and stomach.
He watched you, mesmerised as you cried his name, chest heaving from the force of your orgasm. Breathing heavily, trying to control himself and not end this too soon, he paused his thrusts as you came down from your high.
"Fuck... Jesus.. that's never happened before I'm sorry!" You gasped, coming back down to earth.
"Don't ever be sorry for that - I'm doing that to you every single time from now on.. fuck that felt incredible..." He growled and turned you over to lie on your back. He re-entered you, slipping in easily, and moved inside you again. You reached behind you to grab the bedframe.
"Give me everything... Everything you have..." He was like a wild animal, his hips pounding into you again. He was panting in your ear, sending you into heaven and back as you wrapped your legs round his waist, pulling him deep.
"Good girl... That's it... I'm gonna -" he lost the ability to speak as he came hard, deep inside you, his body collapsing on top of yours. You ran your nails over his shoulders, feeling his breathing calm.
You lay tangled together for a while, just enjoying the feel of each others skin, listening to each other breathe, placing soft, gentle kisses on each other. He pulled out slowly, and lay next to you.
The silence wasn't awkward, but you had to break it.. you had to know..
"Cill?"
"Hmm.." his eyes were closed, but he lifted an arm for you to move into. You didn't, you stayed where you were. He opened his eyes and looked at you. "What's wrong?"
"What is this? What are we doing? I mean, I'm not expecting anything.. I just.. listen.. don't be mad.. but I've thought about that night every single day and I don't think I can carry on doing this if you don't actually want me, okay?"
"I kissed you in a room FULL of people y/n, what does that tell you?"
"I don't -"
"I want you, okay? Not just as a fuck, but all of you. You and me - what do you say?" Your eyes gazed into his. Everything you'd ever wanted was waiting in them. You settled into his arms and allowed yourself to drift off in his arms. The safest, and most comfortable you'd ever felt.
*************************************************
More cameras flashing, more screams.. another premiere. This time for your latest movie - you'd been cast as the lead role in Danny Boyle's latest blockbuster and you were leading the rest of the cast on the red carpet. Your dress showing off your curves perfectly.
You stood in line with your castmates smiling, when a pair of ocean blue eyes caught your attention off to the left. You couldn't help but grin when he winked at you, you could feel how proud he was of you. You heard the event manager call for individual photos, and you stayed on the red carpet smiling for the cameras.
"Can we get one of you and Cillian, y/n?" One of the photographers asked, and the others all shouted in agreement. You shook your head, knowing how much he hated these events, and PDAs even more, but you were cut off by the man himself approaching you smiling.
"Why not, eh?" We wrapped his arms round your waist and stood happily having his photo taken. He was just too proud not to, he wanted the world to know.. taking your hand in his, he led it to your belly, suddenly the fans in the background went wild screaming, the photographers suddenly noticing the roundness of your stomach and catching onto the exclusive news.
You felt a warmth running through you - it truly didn't get better than this, as you gazed into your fiance's eyes and stole a kiss.
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the window
summary: reader gives spencer a really cute holiday gift, and he really, really appreciates it (spencer reid x gn!reader)
word count: 2.7k
author’s note: this was supposed to be a blurb lmao. also anon, u did not specify gender, so this is gender neutral!!! also, this is for the holiday season and isn’t specific to christmas (aside from mentions of secret santa gift exchange). also also, spencer knits canonically.
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.
Rolling your eyes, you closed the seemingly menacing pop-up on your screen and continued to finish up your paperwork. A few seconds passed before a second pop-up appeared.
DO NOT CLOSE MY MESSAGES!!!
You heaved a sigh and stood, making your way to Garcia’s lair. Pushing the door open, you skipped a greeting entirely and chided, “Dude, you gotta stop sending scary pop-ups to my computer. People are gonna start thinking that unsubs are hacking the FBI and threatening agents.”
From beneath her horn-rimmed glasses, Penelope tutted and chewed the end of her pen. “You are no fun. Besides, you are forgetting my immensely cool and mysterious origin story. ‘The Black Queen’ was not one of the good guys!”
“That’s true,” you admitted, “but you’re one of us now, so that means no more suspicious messages unless you want to be fired.”
She gave you a contemptuous glare, “Not gonna happen. Also, I’m really shocked that you thought you could distract me from the matter at hand.”
Furrowing your brow, you replied, “I don’t even know what the matter at hand is.”
Garcia’s smirk curled devilishly. “You and Reid.”
Further confusion ensued. “And what about us?”
She groaned and threw her head back, “Oh my god, you really are dragging this out. I know that you did not get him for Secret Santa, but you still got him a present.” The quirking of her eyebrows was enough to indicate that she meant more than what she was saying, and you were hesitant to explore the implications.
“Okay, first of all, it is illegal to look at my credit card history, and secondly, he is my best friend, so yes, I got him a present. Is that a crime?”
“Certainly not...but this does solidify the fact that you’re in love with him.”
“Dear god, Garcia, I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”
The look she gave you was one of utter incredulity. Her disbelief was so strong in fact that she did not deign your statement worthy of verbal response. Instead, she sat there. Staring. And under her rather unnerving gaze, you began to fidget, your resolve slowly dissolving. Squeezing your eyes shut, you relented.
“Okay, maybe I am the littlest, tiniest bit in love with Spencer Reid.”
“Well, duh, but what I really need to know is when you’re gonna tell him.”
“When? Garcia, this is not a ‘when’ question. Actually, it’s not a question at all because never in a million years would I ever tell him.”
“Why not?” she exclaimed, gesturing with her pen still in hand. “You spend almost all of your time together, at work and at home! You guys go to bookstores and museums and cafes. He talks about his silly little statistics, and you listen, and you make your silly little jokes, and he laughs; you’re a match made in heaven! And he’s so obviously into you! That boy writes the definition of heart eyes every time he looks at you.”
Steeling your jaw, you rebutted, “That’s just not true.” Your voice faltered. “Sure, I’ve noticed a certain...affection, but he does not love me in the same way I love him.” You let out a shaky breath before deciding to continue. “Did you know that in all of our years of friendship he’s never touched me? I mean sure, it’s happened once or twice in the field, but that was always an accident. And yeah, I know he has his thing with germs, but don’t you think if he liked me as anything more than a friend, he would have done something by now? A pinky promise, a teasing elbow jab—I don’t know—something?”
Penelope’s face softened, and she tried to recover your confidence. “He’s like that with everyone! He likes his space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him initiate contact with anyone on the team.”
“But isn’t that the point, Garcia? I’m just like everyone else to him. He wants space from me.” Bitterness roiled in your stomach and dripped from your tongue. “Not very romantic, huh?”
Trying to piece together a counterargument, she stumbled slightly, “No, I will give you that.” She paused. “But I think he’s just scared. Not of germs, not of you, but of his feelings for you. He’s not the most well-adjusted person I know.”
You chuckled lightly, gradually resuming your normally light-hearted disposition, “I would agree.”
“Well, I hope he likes his present.”
The semblance of a tired smile graced your face. “Yeah, me too.”
You turned to walk out and had almost made it out the door when her voice stopped you. “Also, I will stop sending suspicious pop-ups to your computer.”
Peeking back through the doorway, you grinned.“I think it’d be for the best. Texting does exist for a reason.”
———
It had been a really good day. It wasn’t often where an entire day in the bullpen passed only with friends and laughter and love and light, but today was one of them. Snow fell silently outside the windows, but everything inside felt warm like laughing so hard that your cheeks ache and your stomach hurts.
By now, a sort of daze had befallen the team as the giddiness wore on and the alcohol set in, fuzzing eyes and minds. Most everyone had paired off after the gift exchange a few minutes prior, but no one had drifted too far. (Maybe it was the team instinct: never stray too far from the pack, but it was also likely that everyone just enjoyed the proximity to their loved ones, their family.) Garcia seemed to be in heaven, tucked into Morgan’s side on a couch that had been dragged haphazardly into the bullpen, and murmured conversation stretched on with intermittent peals of laughter. Predictably, Hotch and Rossi had sequestered themselves to a nearby desk, their scotch glasses never dry and grins never fading. (Hotch during the holidays was something special. His often frigid demeanor thawed, and out from the ice peeked his former self who wasn’t so serious. (His rare giggles were quite the surprise though.)) Emily and JJ sat on the latter’s desk, discussing anything and everything (except for psychopathic murderers), while you had pulled your chair up to sit beside Spencer at his desk.
“So are you pleased about your gift from Rossi?” you asked, a faint grin playing at your lips.
“I am,” he replied, clearly enthused. “But I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he managed to get an authentic TARDIS key.” His finger traced the edge of the authenticity certificate Rossi had bestowed on him that sat on his desk; the key was already hanging around his neck.
You raised your eyebrows and nodded. “Well, money is a powerful thing.”
“True,” he mused before furrowing his brow. “But that’s another thing, the expense limit is not a suggestion, but he always treats it like it is. Puts all the rest of us to shame.”
“There’s no shame in an inexpensive gift!” you argued. “As long as time or thought was put in, it doesn’t matter.”
“Penelope surely didn’t skimp on time spent for yours,” he said, pointing to the homemade knitted hat and glove set on the desk beside you.
“No, I did not!” she yelled from her spot on the couch, somehow having managed to pick up on your conversation, and you laughed. “Lots and lots of time and love was poured into those!” Her speech was slightly slurred as her eggnog intake began to infringe on her lucidity.
“I know this, and I love you for it,” you beamed at her.
“I love you too.” She proceeded to bury her face in Derek’s shoulder who could only chuckle at her antics.
You picked up a glove and inspected it. “I truly cannot comprehend how she made these. Circular knitting needles are my living hell.”
Sitting up with renewed interest, Spencer said, “If you need help with them, I could lend a hand. I knit my mom a sweater this year, and I think I finally understand how they work if you ever wanted me to show you.”
“I’d love that.” Hopefully, the flush of your cheeks could be blamed on the wine you had had. “Speaking of your mom, how is she? Are you excited to see her?”
The corners of his mouth turned up, and he nodded. “She’s good; her nurse said she’s been doing really well lately. She’s less paranoid, more alert, so I’m really excited. I think this will be a good trip.”
“I’m so glad!” You sat there with a dumb smile for a moment, your mind lagging for a moment (damn wine) before realization crashed onto you. “Wait, speaking of your mom, I have something for you!” He cocked his head to the side as you stood up and went to your desk, rifling through one of the drawers. Pulling out a neatly wrapped gift, you trotted back over and offered it to him. “This is for you.”
He took it, running a hand over the wrapping paper (it was the one with cowboys wearing Santa hats that you had found when shopping together a couple weeks before, his favorite). “(Y/N), you didn’t have to get me anything.”
Shrugging lightly, you said, “Yeah, I know we did the whole gift exchange thing, but I saw it, and I thought of you and had to get it.” And you definitely did not actively seek this out for him in the search for his perfect present. Which is something somebody who is definitely not in love with him would do.
He looked up at you, eyes already glassy and searching your face for something. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but then he met your gaze with unwavering certainty. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).”
“No problem, ya big sap, now open it already.”
Ever the cautious one, he opened it carefully, sliding a finger under the edge of the paper and gently easing the tape up. The small action of unwrapping a present so attentively was just so Spencer your heart swelled as you suppressed the growing grin. From the paper emerged a book.
“‘A Collection of Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer,’” he murmured, smoothing a hand over the cover.
When he didn’t immediately react, seemingly frozen, nerves crept up the back of your neck, and you sputtered out some sort of reasoning. “I know your mom used to read Chaucer to you; you mentioned ‘The Parliament of Fowls’ when we worked the Fisher King case, and it’s in this collection, and I thought it’d be fun for you to take it to Vegas and read it together and—”
Your explanation came to an abrupt halt as Spencer threw his arms around you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. Immediately melting into it, you embraced him with a similar intensity and buried your face in his neck. Something in his touch allowed you to let go, and it felt like the moment you could finally exhale.
A breath you’d been holding for longer than you could remember.
You could smell the cologne that he wore for ‘special occasions’ and his shampoo and something so faint but so undeniably him, and his hand slid up to the back of your head, cradling it in the most tender fashion, and you felt like you could cry. So you pulled him closer, and he did the same.
The hug definitely lasted longer than what most people would find comfortable, but neither of you could be convinced to retreat until you became aware of the silence that had settled over the bullpen. You felt the many pairs of eyes on you, and it pained you to pry yourself off of Spencer. Breathless, you looked around at the shocked faces of your co-workers who sat with mouths agape and eyes wide. You coughed slightly to try to ease the tension and then for some reason beyond your knowledge, you decided to wave at them in the most awkward fashion. Sitting back down, you could feel stares lingering as conversation resumed, and you looked up at Reid who looked like a deer in headlights. You laughed quietly, tugging his sleeve until he received the memo and sat down again.
He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, glancing at his present. “Thank you for the book, (Y/N/N).”
“You’re welcome,” you replied, your tone earnest as ever. Still reeling from the hug, you faintly became aware of the speed of your heartbeat and unconsciously brought a hand to your chest. You attempted fruitlessly to sort through your raging thoughts, while across from you, Spencer tried to think of something, anything to say now.
He couldn’t really believe he’d done it. His germaphobia remained everpresent, but somehow the emotion welling in his chest at your sincerity and benevolence had overridden it, and he felt helpless in stopping himself. His heart had lurched in his chest as if it was suddenly struck with the need to be in your hands, propelling him forward. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to for so long, but he’d never mustered the courage before. There was something so special, so intimate about touch, and so many people gave it so freely, and he just didn’t understand how they could allow themselves the indulgence. The absolute luxury of giving and receiving love. Spencer often felt like he sat by a window, watching his life pass by outside of it, and he had always wanted to open it, to really experience all the joy and all the grief and all the love that was waiting for him, but it was scary to open himself up to those feelings and the hurt that could ensue. So, he usually sat discontented by his window. But today, it was like he’d grabbed a hammer and smashed the glass completely and stepped through to be able to return the love you had offered him.
It felt so good.
But now, he had no idea what to do. He stood there in the midst of the shattered glass, and deep down, he knew had to take the last couple steps to get to you, but he didn’t know how.
His fingers fidgeted in his lap as he analyzed your blank face, trying to find something to give him the next direction when a realization hit him. “I didn’t get you anything!”
Drawn back from the depths of whatever thought you had been stuck in, you met his gaze and shook your head. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I broke the gift exchange rules to get you something, so you had no way of knowing.”
“But I feel terrible.” His eyebrows drew together, and he frantically tried to think of some way to repay you. “You get me an incredibly lovely and wonderfully thoughtful gift, and I’m the loser who didn’t get his best friend a present!”
“Spencer—”
“Wait!” he interrupted, a revelation arriving. (He knew how to take the last steps.) “When I get back after the holidays, do you want to get dinner with me? Then, we can go to the bookstore on 10th that you love, and you can pick out a book, and I’ll pay.”
Your eyes widened further than you thought possible, and your heart which had only partially recovered was off to the races once again. You decided to take the plunge and ask the burning question. “Do you—um, do you mean like a date?”
“Yeah,” he answered, beaming so brightly. “Yes. Like a date. If you want to.”
You held each other’s gaze, and the warmth that had filled the bullpen all day filled your chests, and you smiled so hard your faces hurt.
So silly, you thought, to have wasted all this time boarding up my affection and keeping it tucked away, safe and useless.
So ridiculous, he thought, to have sat by that stupid window for so many years when the real thing feels so sweet.
“I think I’d like that a lot.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#anon i hope u enjoy!!!!#this was only written between the hours of 1 and 3 am so if that impacts the quality i am terribly sorry#but i like some of the end of it so we'll see#:)#<3#also am i legally allowed to post a fic that doesn't have a bsf garcia scene? no#all the homies liking this at 3:26 am? i love u
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Danger days - Chapter four: "She doesn't help me"
Word count: 8,5K
Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x OC + My Chemical Romance
Summary: Joey starts touring, and soon things start getting awkward with Gerard. Also, Frank is somehow jealous 'cos he wants to get all of her attention. Mikey spends most of the time drunk in this chapter and Ray is the father figure all these kids need.
Warnings: Alcohol, drunk talk, dirty thoughts, mentions of a boner someone is trying to hide, bad jokes, and a lot of cursing.
A/N: Ok Matthew fans, there's a lot of My Chemical Romance in this chapter, but we all need context and Joey has to be locked with them for A LONG WHILE. Also, all the "Text in italic" are thoughts and arguments our heroes are having with themselves.
All of this is fiction. And the gif ain't mine.
Masterlist
Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |
--
::: LAX, October 21st 2011 :::
Joey's eyes were still watered up as she stared at her boarding pass, making her best to stop crying. She had just hugged Matthew goodbye, and her heart felt like it was breaking as every second passed. She missed him already, and she felt like a sick cliché. She could still feel his arms around her, holding her tight, and his lips kissing her between tears, both of them crying as neither wanted to say goodbye. Joey knew she would keep on crying as they waited for their flight, so she walked away from their gate and tried to disappear among the people.
- "I miss you"- she read the text Matthew just sent her and wiped off the tears from her cheeks.
- "Me too"- she quickly wrote and held her cell phone close.
- "Hey!"- Mikey almost yelled next to her, making her jump.
- "Where the fuck did you come from?!"
- "The dutty free, I had to get some more chocolate for the flight"- Joey looked at him, still surprised, and making her best not to show how sad she was.
- "Why are you crying?"- it was clear she had failed.
- "I'm miserable 'cos I'm not gonna see Matthew in two weeks."
- "It's just two weeks, calm down"- Mikey tried to cheer her up and gave her a chocolate bar.
- "Well, I'll miss him too much."
- "I promise you, we are gonna have so much fun, you won't be sad the whole trip,"- Mikey wrapped an arm around her and messed with her hair.
- "Thanks"- she whispered just to be polite. She was too sad to believe him.
After a week and a half working with the band, Mikey was the closest band member Joey could call a friend among the guys. He and Ray were the nicest and always made her feel comfortable. They would joke around in rehearsals and have lunch together. It was nice. It felt good, like high school friends.
Frank and Gerard were a completely different story because though Joey felt they were very nice, things could become very uncomfortable very quickly with them. Frank would always start a conversation and share a nice laugh, but each time they stayed quiet, his eyes turned into a magnet she couldn't stop staring at. And it felt too intense, like Frank was even flirting a little bit. Sure, she thought he was cute, but he was married, and she knew things were never going to take a weird turn.
And about Gerard, well, that was even weirder. Completely odd. A case of study. He would make his best not to be alone with her, and she could feel it. She knew he always paid attention to what she was saying in a conversation. Still, he constantly made an effort not to talk to her directly. But when they were playing, she could feel her knees go weak each time he looked at her. That man sweated sensuality, and it took all she had in her to stop looking at him each time he moved closer to her. She couldn't concentrate, and she had to keep her eyes closed most of the time to avoid staring into his red hair, his fine ass, and pretty much anything related to him.
Joey knew she would never cheat on Matthew with Gerard. She just thought the singer was too hot for his own good. And for hers. It was a good thing he kept his distance. Well, except for the next ten and a half hours, ‘cos they had seats together.
- "Hey"- she cut him a shy, nervous smile and took a deep breath as soon as he appeared next to her. She had to stuff her hands in his pocket for a minute, ‘cos she was afraid they were going to start shaking. Yes, that's how uneasy she got around him. It wasn't something that happened right away. It developed over the week, and she tried to make lights off the deal most of the time.
- "Bitch, you are working with him. You can't act like a teenager around him just because he is hot. You don't even wanna date him or whatever, you love Matthew… you just wanna stare at this guy from a safe distance 'cos he is so fucking sexy!"- Joey thought.
- "Hey"- Gerard stood still and looked at the empty seat next to Joey. The rest of the band was spread on the plane, and neither seemed to be close for switching seats.
- "Ok, you can do this. She is your coworker. Just keep it casual,"- he thought and moved over to sit next to her.
Neither of them said a word for a while. Joey opened her backpack and grabbed the book she was reading, and Gerard kept scrolling down his phone. He looked out of the corner of his eyes and tried to catch the name of the book, but he couldn't. So he tried again, this time pretending to be uncomfortable in his seat, and he succeeded. He found out Joey was reading a book he didn't know.
- "Are you ok?"- the girl asked and turned to the man that looked blushed, almost caught in something.
- "Yeah, I just… wanted to take off my jacket"- he did so and stuffed it under the seat. Joey looked at him and nodded. The fact that he moved made his perfume reach her, and it was delicious.
- "So, what are you reading?"- his curiosity won.
- "Bestiario, it's a Julio Cortazar book I loved back in school. Mom sent me a box of my old stuff the other day, and I found it."
- "Never heard of him"
- "It's an Argentinian writer. He is awesome. His short stories and how he successfully created surrealist worlds are poetical."
Joey explained but made her best not to look into Gerard's eyes, so she kept staring at his hands playing on his lap.
- "Besides, he was a rebel. He used language his own way, creating words and neologism… I just love him."
By the end of her speech, she failed and turned her gaze at Gerard's, making her hold her breath.
- "Sounds impressive"- he whispered and cleared his throat.
- "You can read it if you want,"- Joey said and looked away quickly, feeling her cheeks blush- "It's a long trip."
- "Thanks"- and after that, the two of them fell silent again.
How had Joey ended up so affected by Gerard? She had a wet dream about him. One amazing wet dream that she couldn't shake off her head. And after that, she wouldn't stop looking at him differently. He was sexy. He was definitely fuckable. He was hot, and he was smart. He was trouble. She had to keep a cold head around him. A complete challenge for that long trip.
Why was it so hard for Gerard? ‘Cos since he first saw her, he got a boner in his pants, and that shit hadn't changed. If anything, it had gotten worse. That didn't mean they were going to fuck or be together or fall in love. Whatever the thing that caused him to be affected by her had to be shut down. And the sooner, the better.
- "Are you ok?"- Ray asked Frank, who kept moving and trying to catch what Gerard and Joey were doing.
- "Yeah, why?"
- "Because you are fucking driving me insane! You are too restless, and you haven't let me sleep in the last hour!"
- "Wanna switch places? Ask Gerard if he wants to sit with you."- Iero said and smiled- "Very smooth Frank, that way Ray will find out in a minute you wanna sit with Joey"- he nearly slapped himself.
- "No, I just want you to stop moving!"- Ray argued, with a tone of voice that sounded (again) more like a father than like a band member.
- "Fine"- Frank whispered, frustrated, and crossed his arms on his chest.
- "What's wrong with you?"- Toro turned to his friend, truly concerned something was tormenting him- "Is it about leaving the babies?"
- "Yeah"- Iero answered and looked outside the window.
It was the truth, but it wasn't just all of it. The actual fact was that he wanted to know if Joey and Gerard were talking. He knew his friend had a crush on her. It was too obvious for him, though the rest of the band nearly noticed it.
But Frank did. He knew each time Gerard stared at Joey more than he had to while she was playing drums. He also recognized the perfume Gerard rarely wore, only when he tried to catch someone's attention. And damn it! He didn't want Joey to notice his friend. He knew Gerard wasn't going to do anything, but if she was going to have a crush on someone in the band, that should be him, not Gee.
Each time Gerard's knee touched Joey, it felt like an electric shock against Joey's skin. That didn't let her concentrate on her book. Gerard didn't seem to notice, though, which was good. She didn't want him to know how much he could affect her. Not even she wanted to know how much he affected her. She knew she loved Matthew, and she would never cheat, but feeling so attracted to someone else made her very uneasy.
She opened her backpack and grabbed her iPod. The smartest thing to do was to listen to some music, read and forget about the fact the hottest guy she had ever met- except for Matthew, of course- was sitting next to her, reading a Stephen King novel, unaffected by her presence.
Gerard had managed to concentrate on his book for a few minutes, but each time Joey's leg softly brushed his, he shivered, so he ended up pretending to be cold. And covered his lap with his jacket. That was also very helpful in case he'd get an involuntary and inappropriately timed boner.
Suddenly, the soft touch of Joey's head reached his shoulder. She was asleep and casually cuddled against him. Was she faking it? It didn't seem so, she still had her headphones on, but the book had left her hands and fallen on her lap. She was asleep, resting her head softly against him.
- "Ok, Gerard, years of practice have come to this moment. Think about math, equations, science test, dissecting a frog, anatomy class, your drummer's body on that Misfits tank top she wore the other day… no! no, again, math, physics, avocado, coconut oil… Her hair smells like coconut oil… I wonder if she would let me spread coconut oil on her… Gerard!! You have a wife you love! Stop this!"
Gerard jumped on his seat, and Joey quickly woke up.
- "Wha…"- she turned to him confused, and he cut her a sweet soft smile- "Shit! I'm so sorry!"- the girl started apologizing right away, completely blushed.
- "No, don't be, you just fell asleep."
- "I'm so sorry."
- "Hey, it's ok"- Gerard said and acted all cool- "My shoulder is your shoulder… we still have eight more hours to reach London, and I am guessing you are a sleeper."
Joey's cheeks were burning as she sat correctly, her heart racing in her chest. Ok, that wasn't what was supposed to happen. And the tour hadn't actually started yet. Great.
The girl looked in her phone for old pictures with Matthew. Honestly, she already missed him, and she wanted to look at his face, remembering what was waiting for her back home.
- "You guys are a cute couple,"- Gerard said and regretted his words as soon as they left his lips- "Cute couple?! What the fuck was that? What am I? A fucking asshole, that's for sure."
- "Thank you"- Joey blushed and kept her eyes on Matthew's picture on her phone- He has been a real support for me ever since we met.
- "How long have you been dating?"
- "Six months and two weeks"- she answered proudly- "We met at the studio one day, he asked me out for coffee... and we've been drinking coffee together ever since."
The two of them smiled at each other and stayed quiet.
- "Your wife is amazing"- Joey added ‘cos it felt like the polite thing to do.
- "Thanks. Yeah, she is incredible."
- "How did you meet her?"
- "Touring, we were at the Project Revolution one year, and by the end of the tour, we got married."
- "Wow, that was fast"- Joey said, thinking out loud- "Shit! Less than three months and he got married?! How can you be sure to do such a thing? Well, maybe when you know you know… but I don't know… seems a little rushed to me."
- "We knew it was the right thing to do,"- he explained calmly-" We knew we didn't want to be apart from each other when the tour ended."
- "That's so sweet"- and after that, the conversation was dead- "So, I'm gonna try to sleep some more. If I fall on your shoulder, don't doubt to wake me up, please."- the girl said and fixed the little travel pillow behind her neck.
- "Don't worry, it's ok, I'm gonna catch a movie"- Gerard answered and smiled one more time, their eyes locked at each other- "Ok Gerard, just look away"- he thought and made his best to follow his own command, but he couldn't.
- "Come on, Joey!! Breath and fall asleep, and stop drooling for him all over! You are pathetic"- the girl wanted to hit herself as she cleared her throat and turned to grab her headphones.
- "Do you want to check out my book?"- she asked and handed him over the one she was reading before- "Stupid! He said he wanted to watch a movie."
- "Yeah! It sounded pretty good. I'll take a look at it while you snore"- he joked, and she blushed. Their hands brushed when she brought closer the book to him, and a little electric shock hit the two of them.
- "Ok, I'll sleep now"- Joey whispered and turned to look over the window- "Just try to sleep for the next eight hours, and you'll be peachy."
Mikey Way asked for another scotch and turned to the window. He wanted to get drunk and sleep. Being drunk was his new nature. Whatever could numb the pain away. He didn't even get to see his wife before he left for the tour. She called and wished him luck. That was it. And still, he wasn't brave enough to be the one to put out on the table the divorcing reality that came ahead. He didn't want to be the one to put an end to it all.
- "Hey"- Frank appeared and sat next to him- "What are you doing?"
- "Drinking, what does it seem like I'm doing?"
- "Being a jerk, that's what it looks like."
- "If you don't like it, you can leave"- but Frank didn't. Basically, because Ray had kicked him out of their seat for being too irritating. And James was snoring. Instead, he took a sip of Mikey's whiskey and nodded.
- "Good shit."
- "Get one for yourself and let me sleep"
- "Damn it! Why is everybody so obsessed with sleeping?"
- "Get out!"- Mikey Way mouthed with his eyes closed, and Frank had no other way but to stand up. He looked around the place until he found the red hair he wanted to spy on. Iero walked slowly, pretending to go to the bathroom, acting casual, which was completely stupid. No one was actually looking at him.
- "Oh hey!"- he said when she stood next to Gerard and Joey's row. He looked at him, raising his eyes from the book, and smiled. Joey was asleep and didn't even move. Her head rested on the seat, and she didn't seem to hear what was going on around her.
- "Hey Frank, what are you doing?"
- "Nothing, I just wanted to see what you were doing. Apparently, Ray doesn't want to sit with me, and Mikey doesn't want to sit with anyone."
- "Why?"- Gerard frowned, confused.
- "No idea, I think he is drunk,"- Frank made a pause and smiled at his friend- "So do you wanna go sit with me somewhere and talk for a while?"
Iero asked casually, though he basically just wanted to move Gerard away from Joey.
- "Not really"- Way simply answered- "Joey just lend me this fantastic book, and I want to read it while she sleeps"
- "Oh"- Frank didn't see that answer coming- "That's ok"- and didn't know what to say- "I'll just… go see a movie or something."
- "Ok"- Gerard directly answered and went back to the book. Frank had no other choice but to look away.
- "Ok fucker, what's the big deal? She is there, they are not even talking, she is asleep, you don't wanna be with her or anything, you are not jealous… you just don't want her to be with Gerard. Wait, is that shit being actually jealous? Nah, no, it's not. No. No way. I just… Nah, it's nothing, just shut up".
Frank plopped himself on this seat and covered his face with both hands. Decided to stop thinking shit, he put on his headphones and pushed play on his iPod. It was better to sleep than to do any other stupid thing for the rest of the trip.
Gerard woke up slowly. He never noticed falling asleep. His head rested comfortably to his right against someone else, who soon he realized was Joey.
He tried not to move and came conscious of the moment. She was still asleep, and her perfume filled the air between them. Gerard didn't move an inch. He didn't want to wake her up. He was enjoying this proximity. He felt their legs side by side, brushing against each other as his heart raced. Her body felt warm next to him, and that soft touch made him hungry for some more. A lot more. He couldn't stop wishing he could move her and kiss her whole body, right there, in the middle of the plane.
- "Shit! No!"- he felt his blood pumping down his belly and knew what was happening- "Melted plastic, NSync, funerals, Joey dressed like Morticia, laid on my bed… no!! Stop this!"
But it was too late to stop the boner. It was now time to hide it before Joey- or anyone else- could see it.
The girl sighed and opened her eyes, still half asleep. She had cuddled at Gerard's neck again, and she was afraid to move. No, she didn't want to move, and she was scared of that. She liked being close to him like this. But she shouldn't. She had to be professional. This was the lead singer of the band she was playing with. This was by far the most important job she had ever have, and she wasn't going to ruin it. She couldn't feel attracted to him or any other member of that band. Besides, they were all married! She even knew this guy's wife, and she was adorable.
- "No, Maria Josefina! This shit stops now!".
Joey moved slowly from Gerard's side and made her best to pretend she had just woken up, and not like she had been debating with herself for the last ten minutes or so.
- "Hey"- she whispered at Gerard, who calmly opened his eyes and scratched his head, looking half asleep and adorable at the same time- "Sorry I woke you up."
- "Don't worry, sorry I was leaning on you"
- "Sorry, I was leaning on you too"- she murmured and took a deep breath- "Do you mind? I need to go to the bathroom."
Gerard stared at her in a blank. If he moved, she was gonna see his boner.
- "Yeah, sure."
He slowly stood up (as well as the other unknown guy by the aisle) and did his best to cover himself with the jacket without being too obvious. It was a little worst when he felt Joey brushing her body next to him as he passed by her side. That added some friction that made him bite his lips.
- "Sorry"- she whispered softly, that didn't help either. Lucky for Gerard, she didn't notice a thing and walked away.
- "Dude put the gun down"- the guy in the aisle said, making fun of him. Way couldn't answer; he just sat down and tried to cool himself down.
- "What the fuck is your problem? What are you, fifteen? Put your shit together, you've been alone with him for like four hours, and already you are having a hormonal breakdown? Really?!"
Joey kept arguing with herself in the bathroom and looked at her reflex on the mirror.
-"And besides, you look like the shit!"- she tried to fix her makeup. She made a messy bun to keep her hair from falling on his face.
- "Ok, you are gonna go out there, and you are gonna be a professional grownup. You are gonna sit down and ignore that guy for the rest of the trip, did you hear me? Ok! Just do it!".
But no, it was impossible, she saw him from a distance, reading her book, and her stomach jumped. So she did what seemed to be the right thing to do: she sat next to Mikey and cut him a smile.
- "Hi stranger."
- "Hey gorgeous"- the girl frowned right away and sniffed him.
- "You are drunk"
- "You are smart"
- "Everything ok?"
- "Nop"
- "And you don't want to talk about it"
- "Nop"
- "Good…"
- "And why are you here?"
- "I've got the window seat over there, and I just went to the bathroom… and I didn't want to bother Gerard and the other guy in my way over."
Mikey turned to her, drunk as a skunk, and smiled.
- "Stop being so nice."
- "I can't turn it off…"- she made a pause and grabbed Mikey's plastic cup of whiskey- "Besides, I can be mean."
- "Bullshit"- he argued, laughing, and Joey drank what was left of the plastic glass in one shot, not moving a single facial muscle- "Wow, I'm scared. You drank my booze, rad!"- he answered sarcastically.
- "Oh, shut up, you are drunk."
- "Hey kids! What are you doing?"- Frank showed up and sat next to Joey, all happy and hyper.
- "Mikey is asking me not to be nice"- Joey answered and cut him a huge grin- "How is your flight?"
- "Bored. I saw a shitty movie, napped, and now I am hungry… wanna eat something?"
Joey thought about it for a moment and realized she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. And smiled lodged on her lips as she remembered Matthew had made her favorite breakfast.
- "Definitely"- and Frank's eyes lit up as he buzzed the air host button.
- "Great!"
- "And no more booze for you"- Joey warned Mikey, knowing he wanted to get more whiskey.
- "You are not my mom."
- "You are not my kid."
- "Stop it."
- "I am not nice."
- "Yes, you are, you are taking care of me,"- she took a deep breath and watched him smiling please, knowing he was right.
- "Fuck you! I'm not nice. I just don't want to carry you around covered in puke when we land."
- "You won't have to,"- he simply answered, slurred actually- "Frank will have to do it."
- "I won't"- he refuted shortly- "Ask Gerard, he is taller."
- "Right, you are tiny like a thirteen years old kid"- Joey chuckled, and Frank blushed, embarrassed that Mikey brought that up in front of her. Like she hadn't noticed.
- "Shut up!"- Iero was gonna punch Mikey's arm when the air host arrived, and he refocused on asking for food for the three of them. And booze for the three of them.
Gerard looked around and frowned. Joey was taking too long in the bathroom. Not that he cared, but maybe she didn't feel so good. Perhaps she was locked in there. Perhaps he didn't get the signs, and she was waiting for him to fuck in there and join the high mile club.
- "Stop that shit!! You are gonna have to spend months with this woman, and you are going to learn how to turn your dick off! If possible…".
After a few more minutes, Gerard convinced himself he wanted to go to the bathroom too and stood up. No, Joey didn't seem to be locked in any toilet. But where was she? It only took him a minute or two to hear her laughing along with Frank and Mikey. What the fuck?
- "Hey, what are you doing?"- Gerard asked as he stood next to Frank by the aisle and smiled. Joey's eyes were watering up as she kept laughing, trying to keep it down.
- "We are playing Who wants to be a millionaire,"- she explained and pointed at the screen in front of her seat.
- "Ok…"- he was going to ask what was so funny when he realized they were all drunk. Well, Mikey was wasted. Frank looked kind of drunk, and Joey… it was hard to say.
- "Well, keep it down, you don't want to disturb the rest of the passengers."
- "Sorry, dad"- Mikey answered, chuckling, and Joey bit her lips not to laugh so loud.
- "And stop drinking!"- Gerard commanded.
- "Yes, dad"- Mikey repeated, and Joey's face turned red from holding the laughter.
- "Stop it!"
- "Come on, man, relax. We are not doing anything,"- Frank tried to explain, but it was useless. He had been so into getting Joey's attention, and the girl knew they had been too loud.
- "No, dude, he is right. It's time to wrap up things here"- she grabbed her drink and stood up- "Come on, make room, let me pass."
- "Oh, come on! You don't have to go!"- Frank hated Gerard at that moment.
- "Mikey has to sleep, and we should notch down the noise for a while. Come on, let me pass"- Frank stood up, frowning.
- "Wanna go watch a movie with me?"- he asked Joey and pointed at his seat.
- "I don't think it's a good idea"- Gerard answered before Joey could actually say a word. And that was a huge turn-off for her. She hated when people took decisions for her, even the smallest, like that one.
- "You are gonna keep laughing and making noise."
- "Sorry, can't we have fun?"- Iero was taking shit too seriously all of a sudden, but lucky him, he was the only one who noticed it, and the air host saved his ass.
- "I'm gonna need you all to go back to your designated seats, please."
And that was it. Joey returned to her seat next to Gerard, and Frank grumbled all the way to his seat next to Ray, who was snoring.
- "Fuck you, Frank!! Stop being jealous! Seriously! This is not healthy!!"
- "Do you wanna watch a movie?"- Gerard asked a few minutes after they sat down and got comfortable on their chairs, stealing Frank's idea.
- "Sure"- Joey answered and regretted right away- "Wait, what had we agreed earlier today? Can you fucking listen to yourself for a second? Don't fuck up this job!"- she scratched her arm, nervous, feeling her whole body tense.
- "Great! What do you wanna watch?"
- "Horror"- she quickly answered- "Good, anything that can keep me occupied from thinking."
- "Cool, anything in particular."
- "Zombies"- Gerard turned to her and smiled so excited you could tell she had said all the correct answers.
- "Great, let's see what we've got."
The jetlag hit Joey hard when they reached London. It was eight hours ahead of Los Angeles time, and after that long, eternal, and challenging trip, having to deal with Gerard next to her, she needed to get some good rest. Besides, the first show was Saturday. She only had Friday to recover and get ready for the debut. And shit, she was freaking out.
- "God, kill me"- Mikey whispered as the van passed outside the hotel and had to turn around the corner. There were so many fans waiting for them out there, going out was suicidal. Joey wide opened her eyes and made her best not to show how shocked she was by the scene.
- "Hey"- Ray elbowed her and smiled- "Excited?"
- "Very"- she grinned and yawned- "And also exhausted."
- "Frank and I were thinking about asking for some room service and playing video games if you want to join us."
- "Sounds good. I just need to shower first."
- "Good, you shower! Can you teach Gerard how to do that, please?"- Frank joked, overhearing the conversation from the back seat- "Thank you for inviting her, Ray! Thank you, that you!!"- and god, he was excited, like a little kid.
- "Oh, come on! I shower now! Stop telling people I'm gross!"- Gerard argued and smacked Frank's head, joking.
- "You traumatized the band, and you have a stigma for being dirty and smelly, teen spirit,"- Mikey added with a deep, weary, hungover voice.
- "Shit! I need to catch up with a lot of info."
- "You are not really missing a lot"- James said next to her and yawned- "Gerard and Mikey didn't shower when they started touring; that's why they called Gee "Teen spirit." Frank used to hang shower camps at one side of the bus to shower after the show. Ray waited until the bus stopped by gas stations to use the shower there when it was available. He usually was left behind ‘cos everybody forgot about him. And that's the short version of touring with these guys. "
James explained as Joey chuckled.
- "Thank you, James. You are the best."
- "Oh, cut it"- Gerard threw his friend a scarf, and Joey laughed.
- "Ok, kids, and how are you planning to avoid all those fans waiting for you out there?"- Joey wondered as she kept looking outside the window as the group of teenagers reached the other side of the street.
- "The MCArmy is pretty cool"- Gerard explained as the girl turned around and raised an eyebrow, looking into his eyes, completely unconvinced.
- "I bet it can still get pretty scary to be out there with all those girls"
- "I mean it, they are not."
- "Yeah, sure. Then just get out this van and walk out there alone, without Worm"- Joey dared and their bodyguard, Worm, turned to him and shook his head no.
- "She is right, face it. You are never gonna make it"- the whole band made a pause after Worm delivered the line and chuckled. Joey didn't get the joke, but she said no word.
- "I really need to know more about this band, fuck!"
- "Don't worry, dude. We are gonna get through the back"- Worm announced, which seemed to be a good idea until they saw the back of the hotel and the way to the underground parking.
- "Oh shit!"- the words left Joey's lips- "Those are more girls that there were at the front… what the fuck?"
The drummer was clearly confused. She knew the band was big, but she hadn't evaluated precisely how big it was.
- "You are not a boy band when you are at a live show, right?"- she asked and turned to Ray smiling.
- "Yeah, we dance a lot. I'll teach you the choreography after dinner."
The van made its way through all the fans, and ten minutes later, each of the band and crew members was at their rooms. Frank lay on his bed and dialed his wife's number.
- "Hey baby"- he whispered with his eyes closed.
- "Hi honey, how was the flight?"
- "Long, eternal, I need to sleep a lifetime."
- "Me too, your daughters have been too spoiled, and neither of them is sleeping if I'm not holding them."
- "Shit."
- "I blame you for that."
- "Please don't…"
Frank chuckled and remembered all the afternoons he had spent holding both his daughters at the same time before he left for California to rehearsal for the tour.
- "I miss you so much"- and he wasn't lying at all. He loved his wife more than anyone.
- "We miss you too"
- "Is your mom still there with you?"
- "Yeah, I wouldn't have done any of this without her."
- "And Evan?"
- "He had a gig tonight, but he is coming to spend the weekend with us."
- "Awesome"
- "So, excited about this leg of the tour?"
- "To be honest, I'm kind of nervous."
- "Why?"
- "About the drummer and shit, we have press tomorrow, and I'm sure they are gonna start asking about it."
- "So?"
- "So I don't want to."
- "Don't make a fuzz out of something that hasn't happened yet"- Jamia made a pause as her husband stayed in silence staring at the ceiling too- "Besides, be honest, Gerard is going to answer all the questions"- Frank chuckled and sighed.
- "You are probably right"
- "I know I am, you know I am, deal with it."
Meanwhile, at the very same time, in his room, Gerard was talking with his wife too, and for some weird twist reason, he was having the exact same conversation.
- "I just don't want the whole tour to turn into "My chemical romance has a girl drummer" shit."
- "But it's an amazing thing to talk about!"- Lynz answered, frustrated her husband was still rambling about the same subject. It had been at least twenty minutes. It was probably his way to talk about her not being obvious. And pretending he hated the whole deal was his way to cope with the face he loved having Joey around.
- "I know it's gonna be fresh and exciting."
- "And inspirational to a bunch of girls out there"- that was probably the only thing that kept Lynz excited about Joey in the band. She didn't see her as a threat per se, but it was still a little weird for her.
- "Yeah, that's true… fans are gonna go nuts."
- "And media is gonna make up a lot of shit."
- "I hate that."
- "You do it for the music. That's what counts."
- "Yeah, I gotta love this shit to bear being apart from you so often,"- Lynz giggled at Gerard's words and sighed.
- "I know you love music more than you love me.2
- "That's not true."
- "I know… you love comics more than you love me,"- Gerard laughed and walked to the door, ‘cos someone was knocking.
- "You see through me"- Mikey walked in as soon as his brother opened and laid on the bed in silence- "Mikey just got here, I think we are gonna eat something and then sleep."
- "Go, I'm going to go out with Alicia today."
- "Really? that's cool, hey Mikey, the wives are going out together tonight,"- and Mikey frowned, surprised.
- "Cool"- that was all the excitement he could express.
- "Love you, babe, gotta go"- Gerard said goodbye to his wife and sighed as soon as he hung up the phone.
- "Everything ok?"- Mikey asked and kept changing the channels on the tv, not really watching anything.
- "Yeah, you?"
- "I'm hungry. Ray said he was asking for room service. Wanna go?"
- "Yeah, in a minute"- Gerard walked to the bathroom, and Mikey sighed, eyes glued to the television. That was the best way not to think. That and getting hammered, but he could do that later.
- "Hello"- Joey walked into Ray's room after she called her boyfriend, took a long, long shower, and put on clean clothes. Well, clean sweatpants and an old oversized Megadeth t-shirt. Basically, her pajamas.
- "Hey!!"- Ray's hair was dripping water as he opened the door and invited Joey in- "Sorry, I just stepped out of the shower."
- "Me too… and if we are gonna tour together, I figured you are gonna have to get used to seeing me in sweatpants"- Ray laughed and took a look at Joey up and down- "Sorry, not sorry."
- "Don't be. You look cute, in a nonsexual way"- he quickly explained and blushed.
- "Thank you… so? what are we eating?"
- "I don't know… what do you wanna eat?"
- "I'm so fucking hungry I need a double bacon burger with all the fries on this island… sorry, all the chips on this island."
- "Sounds good, make two of those,"- Joey sat on Ray's bed and watch him open his backpack.
- "What do you have there?"
- "Only the most important thing I carry around when we tour."
- "Guessing something related to… oh no, it's a PlayStation,"- Joey frowned and then chuckled as she saw Ray unpack his favorite console and plug into the television.
- "Since we are touring together, you should know this is something we can't live without."
- "Really?"
- "This is our life on the road."
- "Playing video games?"
- "Yeah… sorry if we are not that exciting."
- "Don't be sorry in front of a girl in sweatpants. Which games are you carrying?"- she moved closer and grabbed a few- "Call of Duty!! Cool!"
- "Do you play?"- Ray was excited, and you could tell.
- "It's Call of Duty. Who doesn't?"
- "Gerard"- Ray answered in less than a second.
- "Lame!"- the knocks on the door finished the conversation, and Joey walked over to answer. Frank held his breath, surprised to see there- "Hey! Do you play Black Ops?"
- "Ahh… yeah"- he doubted as he looked at her up and down- "You look…"
- "Like a mess? Yeah, get used to it"- he was gonna say cute, but she interrupted him at the right moment and walked back to Ray- "What else do you have there?"
Frank sat on the bed and stared at the scene. Ray kept showing Joey his video games, and she was really into it.
- "So do you play a lot?"- Frank ended up asking, and the girl grinned guiltily.
- "Maybe more than I should admit. When you live alone, and you don't have a job, there are too many hours to kill.
- "Been there"- Ray answered and chuckled
- "Then this tour is gonna be fun!"- Frank smiled and laid back on the bed as Joey sat next to him and tapped on his leg.
- "I am going to kick your Jersey ass."
- "Oh really? You better don't go all Icelandic on me when I make you eat the ground"- he made his best not to shiver at her touch and instead tickled her a little, which made her giggle, like a little girl.
- "I don't go all Icelandic, that's too cold and drunk"- she corrected him and tickled him as well- "I go all Latina, like mom."
Frank knew this was his chance to get a little closer to the girl, friendly closer, by the way. Well, that's what he kept telling himself.
- "Fine, then don't go all Latina on me when I kick your ass!"- he said and fully tickled her, hearing her laugh.
- "Fuck!! No!!"- she yelled, laughing- "You weren't supposed to find out about this weakness until way deep into the tour!!!"
Ray looked at them, frowning as he stood up and opened the door for Mikey and Gerard. He didn't say really a thing, just opened the door and walked back into the room.
- "Kids! Calm down! Or you won't have dinner"- Toro said and kneeled next to his suitcase, looking through his games for one he wanted to play. But neither Frank nor Joey paid attention and continued fighting over who could tickle the other. Gerard looked at them, deeply jealous, as Mikey nodded his head.
- "So… what are you doing?"- the youngest Way asked, staring at the obvious
- "We are…"- Joey made a pause and gave it a little thinking while Frank kept tickling her, enjoying a little too much the fact he could just touch her… in a friendly way- "Frank, what were we doing?"
- "You went all Latina all of a sudden."
- "Oh yeah, and you were all Jersey"- Frank had to stop ‘cos Joey stopped, but they kept pushing each other, and Ray continued telling them to stop like they were his kids.
- "And I told you I was going to kick your ass playing Call of Duty."
- "Right! That was why!"- Joey sort of shouted, and Frank burst out laughing- "Hey"- she smiled at Gerard and tried to look away.
- "Wanna play?"- Ray asked her, and she couldn't control her smile.
- "Always!!"
Gerard looked at her after she delivered that line. She sat with Ray on his bed holding a joystick, not paying half attention to him. Was that what made him act all jealous? The fact she paid attention to everyone else but him?
- "Just forget it, Gerard, eat your dinner and go to bed."
It was midnight, and Joey and Ray were still playing. Mikey was drunk and half-asleep on the bed, holding his phone tight. Frank was waiting for his turn to play, staring at the screen and laughing each time anyone would take a gunshot.
- "Ok, I'm going to bed"- Gerard said and stood up.
- "Ok, see you tomorrow!"- Ray said and never stopped playing, and neither did Joey.
- "Fuck you!!"- she yelled, and Toro laughed as the girl kept pushing him and making her best to force him to lose.
- "Don't be a bad loser!"
- "I am not a bad loser!!"- she argued right away and stood up to hand over Frankie the joystick, defeated again- "And you are a shitty winner, by the way!"
- "I'm leaving!"- Gerard repeated, and again, no one seemed to care.
- "Night night!"- Joey waved and turn around to look at the youngest Way- "Hey Mikey, are you ok?"
No, Mikey wasn't ok. He was laid on his back, tears slowly falling down his eyes, drunk as fuck.
- "Hey, Mikey, let's get you to bed, ok?"- he sighed and half-opened his eyes looking at Joey.
- "I don't want to."
- "Come on, you have an exciting day tomorrow. I got the schedule earlier, and you get to work for hours, and I am not doing shit!"- she joked, but Mikey didn't move- "Oh, come on… please, buddy?"
- "Is he ok?"- Gerard asked and walked over.
- "Drunk as fuck is the new ok,"- she answered as Gee shook Mikey's arm.
- "I'm alive"- he babbled and slowly sat down- "I'm ok, leave me alone."
- "You don't really look like you are ok"- Joey whispered and smiled at him- "Want me to show you my tits to cheer you up?"- Frank paused the game and turned to her.
- "Fuck yeah!! We could ask for that?"- Joey frowned and looked at him, annoyed.
- "I was joking"- she pronounced every letter in those words very slowly- "Just trying to make Mikey laugh."
- "Oh yeah"- Frank blushed and unpaused the game, turning to the screen- "I knew you were, I was just following the joke."
Joey nodded and turned to Mikey again. Meanwhile. Frank wanted to slap himself.
- "What the fuck is your problem!! That was so stupid! It was obvious she was joking, and now you made an ass of yourself! She is gonna think you are a pervert!!"
- "So, are you coming?"- Joey smiled at her friend, and he nodded- "Good, ‘cos I don't wanna smack you."
- "Do you need help?"- Frank paused the game again, and Ray almost growled.
- "No, I'm ok"- Mikey answered and stood up.
- "Come on, let's have a slumber party. We can do each other's nails"- Joey smiled, and Mikey smirked.
- "Braid my hair, sister"
- "And I'll curl your eyelashes"
Gerard watched in awe how his brother just followed Joey's commands like a little boy. He just went to bed when she asked him to. He laughed when she made the jokes. Was he crushed on her too?
- "Good night, kiddos"- Joey smiled and waved at Ray and Frank- "I had a blast with you tonight."
- "Goodnight, loser!!"- Ray teased her, and the girl stuck out her tongue at him.
- "Tomorrow, I want my revenge!"
- "Whenever you want to lose, I am here,"- he chuckled, and she pretended to be mad. The truth was, she had a great time with Ray, and she was glad he was so warm and friendly with her from day one.
- "Hey, Iceland"- Frank stood up and walked quickly over her- "That shit about your tits, I was joking."
- "I know, Jersey. Calm down"- she beamed and pushed his arm- "You are a good kid."
- "Thanks, goodnight"- he whispered and walked back to Ray's bed- "If only you knew…".
Gerard opened the bedroom door and waited for Joey and his brother to walk out to close it behind his back.
- "Where to?"- she asked, and Mikey pointed to the elevator. The three of them walked in silence, the door closed, and the youngest Way slowly raised his hand and pushed "15".
- "Please don't puke in the elevator"- Gerard teased him, and Mikey whispered
- "Like you never did that kind of shit back in your days,"- the silence hung amongst them until the door opened, and they strolled out.
- "Good neighbor, you are just four rooms down from my cave"- Joey joked as Mikey slowly and clumsily tried to open his door, but Gerard ended up grabbing his card and doing it for him when it was apparent he wasn't in the condition of doing it by himself.
- "Ok, Mikey. There you go"- Gerard helped his brother to bed as Joey took out his shoes and moved the pillows for him.
- "I don't want your help"- the drunk Way said, but Joey messed with his hair and smiled, trying to cheer him up.
- "I am not helping you. You asked me to stop being nice,"- Gerard frowned, not getting the conversation, but apparently, there were so many things Ray and Mikey could talk about with her he had no idea about. He should give up trying to catch up.
- "This is me making sure you owe me big time, and I am going to call in a huge favor as soon as I get drunk, and you are gonna have to take care of me,"- Mikey smiled and closed his eyes.
- "Ok, Bug"- the drunk boy closed his eyes and sighed- "I'm gonna start calling you "Bug" now because you can be fucking annoying!"
- "Oh really?"- Joey giggled and stood next to Mikey's bed with Gerard- "I'm gonna have to find a nickname for you then."
- "Your job for tomorrow"- the drunk guy whispered and sighed.
- "Goodnight, Mikey"- Gerard said and watched how his brother fell asleep in less than a minute. He and Joey walked slowly to the door and left Mikey alone.
- "Thank you for taking care of him,"- Gerard whispered as they walked down the hall to Joey's door.
- "Don't thank me for that. I consider him my friend already, and friends take care of each other."
The girl kept looking down at her shoes as they walked, decided not to land her eyes on his, not even for a second. God knows what could happen.
- "He seems to be going through a rough patch lately"
- "He hasn't told you anything about it?"- Joey asked surprised.
- "No"- Gerard shook his head and thought very carefully before he asked- "Has he told you… anything about what's going on with him?"
Joey didn't hesitate for a second and answered no.
- "It just seems he trusts you with his problems. That's all."- Gerard added.
- "We talk about random shit"- she quickly explained- "Maybe he just needs to ease his mind from whatever it is that is happening to him, at least for a bit."
The two of them stayed quiet, standing right in front of each other. Gerard was dying to hold her face with both hands and kiss her. They were alone for the first time ever. Ever. He has made his best for this not to occur before; the plane trip at least was shared with a hundred other people at the same place. Now it was just the two of them all alone standing in the hall.
- "What are your plans for tomorrow?"- Gerard whispered and raised his eyes to look at her.
- "Gym in the morning, practice in the afternoon"- Joey said and kept looking at her hands.
- "Where are you gonna practice?"
- "Here, in my room. I brought my electric drum ‘cos Brian said I could install it somewhere around the bus."
Gerard kept his eyes locked on her, and she could feel it as she continued talking.
- "I hope it's not an inconvenience, I'm just nervous. I feel like I need to practice another 100 hours to play the show you deserve."
- "No, of course, it's no problem"- he answered and slowly reached out his hand to clumsily place it on her shoulder- "And stop doubting yourself. You are an amazing drummer."
Joey couldn't help it and shivered as she felt Gerard's touch, raising her eyes to meet his.
- "Thank you"- she whispered, and time stopped as they stared at each other. It felt so natural to lean over. It was like their bodies were longing for proximity. But both of them knew they couldn't do anything like so.
- "Ok Joey, breath, act like a normal person and walk away from this temptation"- she sighed and smiled- "That would be a killer nickname" Well, see you tomorrow Gerard, have fun doing a million interviews.
- "Have fun at the gym- he smiled and watched her opening the door and walking into her room."
- "Good night"- she whispered and slowly closed the door.
- "Ok, that was good. You controlled yourself, Gerard. I'm proud… now walk away and get into your room."
Joey laid on her bed and closed the laptop, after a long video call with Matthew. Tears fell from her eyes slowly. She was nervous, excited, and most of all, she was sad her boyfriend wouldn't be there with her at her first show.
- "You have no idea how proud I am, Yami"- he had said, as the two of them cried.
- "I wish you were here with me, Akumu."
She had never been away from him in six months. Once for a weekend, but not a whole month. She missed him already. Watching his face on the screen didn't make it easy. If anything, it felt like it made it worse. She was in love with him, honestly in love. She had a couple of shitty experiences with her previous boyfriends, and Matthew was the first man who treated her with respect. It was sad for her to be so moved about something that could be the base of a relationship.
Besides, she wasn't just nervous about being away from her boyfriend. She also had second thoughts about her abilities. Maybe she really wasn't going to be able to do it right. She could be petrified in front of the audience. It would be easier if Matthew were there with her. But he wasn't, and she had to start dealing with this fear on her own.
She could still feel Gerard's hand on her shoulder, telling her she was going to do great. It burned her skin like the remainder of his warm touch.
- "Fucking temptation"- she whispered and rolled in bed to turn out the lights- "Gerard is so hot I could do something very foolish if I were single... and if he was single too, of course."
**
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Gregory Week - Flowers
Day 2 of Gregory Edgeworth Week (note: contains delayed speech Miles and Gregory excited when he does start talking. He’d had taken steps to learn how to communicate even if Miles didn’t talk because he loves his son but please take care of yourselves.)
“So when do I get to meet the most important person in you life Gregory?”
She smiled at him and his chest ached. He wanted to run his fingers down the length of her braid. Kiss every blossom weaved in. She was beautiful and kind and perfect.
“Soon Flora. Soon.”
He sat on the floor next to Miles as he sorted through his building blocks. Arranged them by color and size. “There is someone I would like you to meet. If you would be partial to that.”
Miles considered one of the strange pieces. Debated where to put it. Set it down carefully so all the lines were straight. Nodded.
“Thank you.” He outlined when she would come over and for how long. Miles always appreciated that. Knowing exactly what he was up against. It made grocery store runs less daunting for them both.
Hopefully this would be less upsetting than the grocery store.
She brought a large bouquet of flowers with her.
“Don’t worry, we were going to throw them out anyway. Oh! But- But I’m not trying to give you subpar flowers it’s only that-”
He took them. Cradled them in his arms. Breathed in their sweet scent. “I love them.” He wasn’t sure anyone had ever given him flowers before. Not before her. Kept them on the desk at work until she threw them out and replaced them with new ones.
It was the little things like that. Like how she packed an extra orange for him because those convenience store meals don’t have any fruit in them Gregory! You have to take better care of yourself! You’ll get scurvy! Or how she reminded him to sort through the mail collecting on his desk. Or just pulled him up out of his chair to stretch.
Or how she laughed so bright and warm and it filled his chest. Just like it did when Miles giggled.
He wanted to be good for them. Be better. Be put together and organized and not be constantly two weeks behind on laundry and debating which of Miles shirts had the least amount of stains so people wouldn’t think he was failing as a parent.
“Well I like doing laundry Gregory. And we all need a little help sometimes.”
Oh he could love her. Marry her. One day.
“This is Flora, Miles. She’s one of my friends.”
Miles hid his face in his pant leg. Waved with one hand and clung with the other.
Her lips pressed together into a frown. Cast a worried gaze up to him.
“When you said he wasn’t talking yet, I thought he was younger.”
Add this to the list of ways he’s already failed Miles as a father. That he didn’t know they were missing milestones.
She sits next to Miles as he flips through the pages of his favorite book. Evidence law. There’s a little chick on the front with a deerstalker. He’s had to move his current law books up out of the reach of sticky fingers because Miles loved to take them out and stare at them. Mirror him as he read his own tomes. Although these couldn’t be interesting, they were just text.
Miles wiped his nose against his sleeve again. A button up with a bowtie. If he dressed Miles up fancy enough maybe no one wouldn’t notice how his shirts hadn’t been ironed in months. She leaned closer and pointed to one of the pictures. Braid with all those beautiful flowers falling over her shoulder. Asked him a question about it.
Miles sneezed. A tiny kitten of a sneeze. Neither could stop the instant coo. His sneezes were just so cute. Miles tugs on his sleeve and then covered his nose with both hands. Tissue please. He understands. Retrieves one and hands it to him. Blows his nose with a honk.
(I hope he isn’t catching a cold.)
Dinner is Miles favorite. Which isn’t the most impressive of meals but in the debate between impressing Flora and making sure Miles was as happy and content as possible for the duration of the meeting, keeping Miles happy had won. Besides, he barely had time to clean the spaces she’d see before she’d come over, much less make something fancy.
He reaches out and strokes the soft petal of the flowers on the table. They really made this place seem nice. Adult. Not like the bachelor pad turned baby playground it was. They could go to the farmers market together, swing Miles between them, and buy fresh fruit that wouldn’t rot in the bottom drawer half the time. Purchase nice art to hang on the walls. Always have fresh flowers for the vase. Have enough time to actually clean the dust he’d only noticed built up on the shelves once she’d stepped in the door.
(You’re getting ahead of yourself Gregory. Taking things too fast.)
“Miles dear? Is something wrong?” Flora asked.
He was wiping at his cheeks. Tears flowing. Snot running down his face. Discomfort and distress in every line. Breaths ragged like the start of a meltdown.
“Miles?!”
He scooted off his chair. Ran to his room. The door slammed closed behind him.
They stared at each other. Those beautiful flowers framing the shot.
Wilted alongside them.
“I should go check on Miles.”
He could never tell what the problem was with Flora. Miles seemed to like her right up until he started crying out of the clear blue. Began to sulk whenever they’d go to see her.
“I’m sorry Flora. Perhaps when he’s older...”
He knows she won’t wait that long.
She shouldn’t have to.
She leaves him with a dried flower and a book on sign language.
“So we can communicate even if you don’t talk.” He says and signs achingly slow. Has rehearsed these motions countless times in preparation. He wants to hear his son’s voice more than anything. But even more than that he wants him to be happy and understood. “I love you Miles.”
Miles plays with his trench coat. Fiddles with his attorney’s badge. He’s always worried Miles will pop it off and hurt himself. So far he’s been content to just shine and admire it. Cocks his head the way he does when he doesn’t understand a direction. Say that again?
He does. Begins to repeat the explanation on sign language. Miles shakes his head. Waves his hand. “Just the last part?” Nods. He hesitates. “I love you Miles.” He says and signs.
Miles watches his hand. Looks down at his own. Adjusts his right hand into position with his left.
I love you. He signs back.
His glasses immediately begin to fog. Tears blinding his eyes. “Can I…” Oh he doesn’t remember that word. He’ll just have to make one up for now. “Hug you?” Held his arms out wide. Shrugged his shoulders. Cocked his head.
Miles nodded and climbed into his arms. Pressed his ears against his chest. As if listening to his heartbeat.
I love you. I love you. I love you. He hoped Miles heard with every single beat.
I love you.
Miles played quietly under the bench as he argued his case. He didn’t like bringing Miles to court – one very prominent memory from when Miles was even smaller that ended in him covered in sick, making closing arguments through tears, and lightheaded with hunger came to mind. He really should have just switched to formula sooner. He hadn’t been able to keep up with the calorie demand. – But the Judge was always incredibly lenient about such things. Had taken a crying Miles off his hands to rock him to calm more than once. Refused to give him back until the trial was over, cooing his questions to Miles the entire time.
Wait. Did he just say-
“Hold it!” He began to say. Your statement contains a contradiction.
“HOLD IT!”A voice he did not recognize called out. High and loud. Young. He glanced around for it’s source. “Or Statement contains a,” Hesitation. He peered over the bench to the voices origin. To where the prosecutors, judge and courtroom were all staring. “Con-Tra-Dic-Tion!” Every single syllable was over and carefully enunciated.
Miles little grey head stood on the other side of the bench. Finger pointed.
The court erupted into noise.
Did he just- Oh that’s so cute! – why’s there a toddler – did you hear him?!
He rounded the bench and scooped him up. “What did you say?!”
Miles jumped. Looked away. Startled. Head bowed like he’d done something wrong.
“No- no no no. Miles what did you say? Can you say it again? Any of it. Say anything again.” Nuzzled into his hair. “I love you so much please say something.” I want to hear your voice so bad.
(Am I pushing too hard? Am I scaring him? Too much. You’re making this too big a deal. You said it was okay if he never spoke.)
It would have been. He loved his little boy. No matter what.
But he couldn’t help but want to hear that voice.
Miles buried his face in his shoulder as he squeezed him to his chest.
“… Father…” Came the embarrassed little squeak.
Oh I love you I love you I love you.
The prosecutor cleared his throat. “Gentleman… I believe we were in the middle of a cross examination?”
He rounded on the witness. Pointed with his free hand. “Yes! We were! And as my favorite legal assistant has just pointed out,” Miles giggled. Oh he loved that sound. “Your testimony directly contradicts the evidence.”
“Thank you.” The defendant’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You truly saved me.”
Miles studied him from behind his legs. Eyes catching on the brilliant fabric of the magicians cape. He pressed his hat to his chest. “I was just doing my job.” Bowed.
“Yes!” Magi laughed. The light caught on the glitter on his cheeks. “Take a bow!" Ah. That was… “You’ve put on a magnificent show.” Removed from his sleeve an entire bouquet of flowers. Handed it to him. “Truly. Thank you.”
He accepted it. They were beautiful.
He knelt. “And for the legal assistant and his indispensable aid,” Pulled one more beautiful flower out and presented it to him. “Here.”
Miles reached out. Took it. Inhaled.
Sneezed.
Sneezed again.
Magi covered his laugh as Miles sneezed once more. “Oh dear.” Pulled out a colorful handkerchief for him. “My apologies.” Took the flower back and made it disappear as Miles blew his nose. “I didn’t realize you were allergic.”
Allergic.
He dropped to the floor. Pulled Miles to his chest.
“Oh Miles. That’s why you didn’t like Flora. She always had flowers on her.”
And he was just allergic enough to be irritated.
What a fool he was.
“… Father.” Miles was tapping him. He forced open his eyes to Miles signing at him. “Why are you laughing?”
He received an invite to Flora’s wedding not a month before. They seemed very happy together.
That could have been us. If only I’d know about your allergies.
Father? He repeated.
“Because I’ve been very silly. And caused you unnecessary pain.”
(I’m not a very good Father at all am I? I keep messing up.)
“… Oh. You want another handkerchief?” Magi asked. “Here you go.”
Cloth touched his face. He opened his eyes to Miles very seriously wiping the tears from his face. Just like he would for Miles. He let him finish his very serious work.
Miles dropped his hands. Considered him from where he stood in the nest of his knees.
Raised his right hand and signed, “I love you.”
Oh Miles.
“I love you too.”
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Standards of Performance, Chapter 9: Hesitancy
From the Beginning, Previous Chapter
AO3 Link
Changing the chapter naming scheme; my brain can't handle two-word summaries anymore. This one is a lil short but very soft and I promise relationship progress is made. As always, I hope you love it. <3
Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?
Chapter Summary: “Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.
“Why would it?”
Words: 1962
Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.
Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You
There was no way in hell you could go into work today.
You didn’t actually have a choice, which is why you’d driven there. But you simply couldn’t command your feet to walk you into that office, towards the teams’ inquisitive stares and deductive skills that were closer to mind-reading than you were entirely comfortable with. You’d adjusted and re-adjusted your lipgloss several times over in the mirror, brushed through your hair, and even though you knew there was no way the team could know what happened 20 minutes ago in the park, you felt like you might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said “Aaron Hotchner and I Just Kissed (On the Lips).”
So you were holed up in the parking garage of the FBI in your piece of shit 2007 Toyota Camry. Stalling.
You sighed when you felt your phone buzz, knowing what the notification was. You were only seven minutes late, but seven minutes was eight too many in Hotch’s book. You checked the message.
Hotch: Please come inside.
So he knew you were hiding out, then. You sighed and slammed the car door, trudging up the stairwell and into the building.
Exiting the elevator to your floor, you paused outside of the frosted glass doors leading to the BAU and tried to still your breathing. Despite Hotch’s apparent instant regret and quick departure occupying the forefront of your mind, you still couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that kiss had been. The part of you that wasn’t filled with panic about his reaction was squealing like a little kid at the confirmation that holy shit, he liked you too. You took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of professionalism and composure you could muster, and walked in.
You made it less than halfway to your desk.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa; don’t just walk in here like I’m gonna let that slide.” Morgan swung his legs off his desk and stood up in front of you. “Every day you get in at least ten minutes early and now you’re walking in late looking like you got something to hide. Spill it.”
Your open-mouthed gaping by way of response was blissfully interrupted by Hotch calling your name from the balcony overlooking the bullpen.
“Garcia needs your help finishing up reports. Meet her in her office.”
You shrugged to Morgan. “Duty calls. Sorry!”
“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy!” he called after you as you scampered towards the safety of Garcia’s tech lair.
You knocked on her door, and she greeted you with her standard excess of enthusiasm.
“Come in! I’m just going through my keylogs for the past few cases and filling out reports of every database I had to access less-than-legally.” She shot you an evil grin. “Which is a lot. You can help me by typing up the information into the actual reports on your computer.”
Just happy to be away from the teams’ prying eyes, especially a certain someone’s, you nodded. “Let’s do it.”
***
Not half an hour had passed when Garcia swiveled towards you in her chair, clutching her pink feathered pen with a knowing glint in her eyes. “So. Tell me.”
“What?” you asked, trying to hide your shock with feigned innocence.
“Oh, honey, come on. I may not be a profiler, but I’ve picked up a couple things throughout the years. And I can tell something’s up.”
“God damn it,” you groaned and laid back in your chair. “I thought this was a no-profiling zone.”
She smiled even wider, if that was possible. “It is. But for you, my dear, I have made an exception.”
“Did Morgan put you up to this?”
“He may have possibly texted me telling me that you were late this morning.”
You rolled your eyes.
“But you’re never late! Even I know that! So -” she scooted closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially, “- spill.”
Sighing, you weighed your options. The last thing you wanted to do was create drama and jeopardize your position, much less Hotch’s reputation, but you were itching to tell someone - if only to get their opinion on the matter. And it wasn’t as if you had anyone else to talk to…
“Fine!”
Garcia rapidly motioned her hands to signify you to continue.
“But you can’t tell anybody, okay? I’m serious, Penelope.”
“Not even-”
“Especially not Morgan.”
She pouted but reluctantly agreed, and you took a deep breath and told her everything.
How you’d developed an innocent crush at first, how it had spiraled out of control, how you’d visited his apartment and he’d told you about his past, and finally, how he’d kissed you in the park just that morning. You stopped, awaiting her reaction, but she was uncharacteristically silent.
“...Garcia?”
She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, are we talking about Aaron Hotchner, like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, like boss man Aaron Hotchner? Mr. Grumpy? Never smiles, always wears a suit, carries the weight of the world on his sculpted shoulders?”
You glared, waiting for her to finish.
“I’m sorry,” she giggled, “It’s just -” her voice softened, “- in the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him act like that. Bring someone coffee, breakfast, open up to them. The whole bit.”
Your heart fluttered more than you’d like to admit at that.
“Listen,” she continued, “I don’t have to tell you that life has not been kind to that man. And I’m not gonna give you the stupid speech about dating an older man or dating your boss, because I don’t give a shit. But I will tell you - he’s been through enough. So if this isn’t what you want, back out now.”
Her tone was kind, but the seriousness of her message was evident. You nodded in understanding.
“I get it, but I don’t think he’s the one that’s gonna end up getting hurt here.”
“Well, hopefully nobody will get hurt and you’ll both ride off into the sunset together. But you gotta talk to him first.” She ignored your pained groan. “I’m serious! Nothing good is going to come out of you guys dancing around this. People act really stupid when they’re pretending they’re not in love with each other.”
Cocking your eyebrow, you shot back, “Kinda like you and Morgan?”
She flushed scarlet and waggled her ostentatious pen in your direction. “Touché.”
***
The thought of being emotionally vulnerable to Hotch made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit, but the more you mulled over it, the more you realized Garcia was right. Hotch knew how you felt - your fervent response to the kiss had made that abundantly clear - so what did you have to lose, really?
(Besides your career and the respect of your boss, but you tried not to consider that possibility).
He’d kissed you, you reminded yourself as you tried to focus on reports.
He cares about you, you recited like a mantra as you waited for the workday to end.
He’s twice your age and a widower with a dead kid and your Unit Chief, you panicked in the bathroom as you avoided the knowing eyes of the rest of the team.
Still, 6 pm limped in eventually and you bid everyone a good night from your desk as they filtered out. Hotch, unsurprisingly, was not among them. You planned to wait until you two were alone in the office so you could approach him undisturbed.
What you didn’t expect was just how late he worked - it was nearly 9 by the time he locked up his office, briefcase in hand, and turned to see you still sitting at your desk.
“Oh,” he said. You tried to decipher the tone of the syllable - surprised? Pleased? Indifferent? But came up short.
“I thought we could talk,” you offer cautiously.
“About wha-” he began, then seemed to think better of pretending he didn’t know and sighed. “You’re right. We should.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “I wanted to apologize for my actions this morning. I took advantage of a situation where you felt comfortable spending time with me outside of the office, and I should have never let it get that far. If you want to speak to Strauss about transferring units, I completely understand.”
You gaped at him. Was it truly possible for a man this astute, this in-tune with human behavior, to be this stupid?
“Is that what you think this is?” you asked, practically launching yourself out of your seat from the sheer force of your bewilderment. “You think you took advantage of me? That I just went along with it because you’re my boss or something?”
The barely concealed shame in his eyes answered not only that question, but also the one you’d asked yourself beforehand - no, Hotch wasn’t stupid. He was broken. He was filled with so much self-hatred that the only explanation he could concoct as to why you were spending so much time with him was the one where you were trying to avoid offending your creepy, older boss. The realization filled you with such heartbreak that you nearly choked on your next words.
“Aaron,” you started, and it was strange how well a name you’d never before dared to say fit in your mouth, “I’ve -”
Don’t say loved.
“- liked you since that case in San Diego. I don’t know how you haven’t figured that out, considering the fact that I wake up an hour early every morning - I hate mornings, by the way - to get coffee with you. But I like you. And I know for a fact you feel the same way, so don’t try to pretend like you did after the bar.”
The number of times Hotch had been rendered speechless in his lifetime could be counted on one hand, and this made the list. You waited for him to respond, and he did, finally, in the most muted voice you’d ever heard him use.
“It isn’t right.”
“Please,” you implored, taking a step closer to him. “Don’t do that. You’re not going to talk me out of this, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to talk yourself out of it too.”
“I’m your Unit Chief,” he said, his voice regaining the power that usually accompanied that statement, “and I’m old enough to be your father.”
“And I’m an adult fully capable of making her own decisions,” you responded.
“The practicalities; they’d be a mess. Informing the Bureau, the team…”
“Would I have to quit my internship?” you asked, your only genuine hesitancy surrounding the situation.
“Well, no,” he shook his head slowly, “but we'd be subject to a much higher level of scrutiny.”
“I’m prepared to be scrutinized.”
“Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.
“Why would it?”
He didn’t say anything, but you could tell what he was thinking. A man like him, someone who carried more than a few lifetimes of trauma and guilt, wasn’t someone to get involved with on a whim - for both of your sakes. This was more so the concern, you suspected, than anything he’d already mentioned.
“I know what I’m getting into, Hotch. I’m not expecting this to be easy.”
“Well, I -” he shifted uncomfortably, more visibly nervous than you’d ever seen him. “Can I least give you time to think about it?”
“Doubt I’ll be able to think about anything else,” you teased, and, with a sudden surge of courage, you stepped forward on your tiptoes to plant a feather-light kiss on his cheek.
The flush that spread up his neck was, decidedly, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.
Taglist: @stop-drop-and-drumroll @criminalmindzjunkie @xoprincessmel @cevanswhre @addie5264 (Message me if you want to be added!)
#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#Criminal Minds#hotch x you#standards of performance#hotch#thomas gibson#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#mgg#david rossi#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#derek morgan#penelope garcia#fanfiction#writing#ao3
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Reluctantly Rooming Bonus: Part 4.5 (Rowan POV)
Link to Masterpost
As promised for my celebration of reaching 100+ followers, here is the bonus from Reluctantly Rooming! This takes place during Part Four, and uses two entirely new prompts. Enjoy!
Prompts:
“What do you mean you don’t read my texts if they’re over four lines…”
and
"You're very endearing when you're half asleep"
~*~*~
The moment Aelin hung up, Rowan rushed into action. Thankfully, he always made it a point to keep his things organized in such a way that leaving the apartment never took longer than a couple of minutes. The only other thing he had to do was call his work, and he did so as soon as he got in the car, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as the dial tone rang for what felt like entirely too long.
Finally, a soft click interrupted the ringing. “This is Salvaterre,” drawled a bored voice.
Thank whatever god was choosing to listen, he had picked up. “Lorcan, it’s Rowan. I’m going to need to work from home at least for today, if not longer.”
He heard the faint sounds of Lorcan sitting upright. “Why? And why are you telling me this over the phone and not in writing?”
“Because I’m not at my laptop right now, and if I texted you you’d send a novel. The last one included paragraph breaks, Lorcan. I don’t have time to read your shit on top of everything else, so if you send me a text that’s over four lines it doesn’t get read.”
“What do you mean, you don’t read my texts if they’re over four lines? You do understand that you report to me, right?”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “Yes, but if it can’t be said in two sentences or less it’s better off as an email. We’ve had this discussion before, and I’m not hashing it out again on my way to the hospital.”
“The hospital? Rowan, what the fuck is going on?”
His fingers started drumming against the steering wheel once more as he came to a red light. “My roommate broke her ankle,” he finally said. “She didn’t have anyone else to take her home, and you know as well as I do that I can do my work as easily from home as I can in the office. I don’t even have any meetings this week, so that makes it all the easier.”
A sigh crackled over the phone line. “You’ll be picking up Fen’s work next month in exchange. Your current project should be done by then, and he has a vacation in the works already.”
Rowan bit back a groan; the books Fenrys edited were far from his normal preference. It would have to do, though, and there was every chance Lorcan had planned on dumping it on him anyway. “Fine.”
As the light turned green once more, Lorcan hung up rather than say goodbye, but Rowan knew that was simply how he handled calls. He hadn’t been bothered by it in quite some time. Not to mention, it was a welcome relief to not have to keep splitting his already-fragmented attention.
When he arrived to Aelin’s room in the hospital she was almost entirely asleep, likely a combination of the painkillers they were sure to have given her and the late night she had worked. A gentle hand on her shoulder resulted in her blearily blinking up at him and then smiling. “Rowan.”
Rowan carefully ignored the fluttering sensation in his chest at her smile, instead helping her transfer herself into the wheelchair that sat beside the bed. A set of papers sat on the table beside her, and a brief glance showed them to be her discharge paperwork and care instructions. Knowing those would be important later, he grabbed them and then began to wheel her to his car.
She had fallen completely asleep by the time he’d managed to get her into the car seat, and he shook his head as he buckled her in. Frankly, he was amazed that she’d made it this long, knowing the long day she’d had. Therefore, he didn’t bother with attempting to wake her, but instead quietly drove them home.
It was somewhat awkward to lift her into his arms from the seat, but he managed. Opening the door was another feat, and he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d wrangled it, but then they were in the house and the door was closed behind them.
Even though Aelin was stirring now, carrying her up the narrow staircase was absolutely out of the question. She would have to get comfortable on the couch until he could rearrange things so she could sleep in his office space.
There were a few throw pillows around that had to have been Aelin’s addition to the house; he didn’t believe it likely that Aedion had thought enough about interior decorating to do so. When he had first moved in they had been an annoyance, all bright colors and bold patterns, but now he was thankful for their presence as they allowed him to help elevate Aelin’s ankle.
When he had finished with his task, Aelin opened her eyes. She was struggling to focus on him, however, and when she spoke the words were almost unintelligible. Rather than ask her to repeat herself, though, he reached for a throw blanket that was old enough to have possibly been Aedion’s. “You must be exhausted,” he said quietly. “Sleep now. We’ll talk later.”
She mumbled again in reply, but it was even less understandable than her first attempt at speech. As he spread the blanket over her, her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing evened out. Good. She would need all of the sleep she could get.
There were several things he needed to do in order to have the house ready for this new situation, and he could feel each task weighing on him. But as Aelin sighed and her head shifted, he allowed himself an extra moment at her side to carefully brush her long golden waves away from her face.
One of her hands shifted, then, and her fingers wrapped around her wrist. With a thrill of panic at being caught, he glanced at her face, only to see that she was still obviously asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief, but the relief was soon replaced by a different kind of thrill when his hand was moved and…
Gods. Was she… nuzzling his hand?
To save them both from guaranteed embarrassment later, he tried to remove his hand from her grip, but she only whined and tugged it closer. He sighed. “Aelin, you’re very endearing when you’re half asleep, but I have other things I need to do.”
Whether it was his words that swayed her or whether she had simply fallen into a deeper sleep, she mercifully loosened her grip on his wrist enough for him to free his hand. Still, though, he lingered for a moment longer, telling himself it was just to make sure she was truly asleep before he began his reorganization of the lower level of the house.
He carefully didn’t examine why it was so important to him that he not wake her while he did so. That would only lead to a conversation he wasn’t ready to have yet, not even with himself.
~*~*~
Tagging:
@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer
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🌸Restoration🌸
🌹Hi!!! This is dedicated to @yamagucji and our shared love of plants and nature! Go check their blog out and give them some love!🌹
🌺(Yamaguchi x GenderNeutral!reader) {TW: Mentions the death of reader’s cousin} Angst (this is my first angst, please be nice)->fluff (The italicized word/words after a flower are what the flower symbolizes, and the reader isn’t saying it!)🌺
🌼**Please be aware of the fact that flowers have different meanings based on your sources! My source is from a book where the author did research on the flowers and chose either the most common definition or the definition that made most sense to her!**🌼
Everyone knew of the garden. The massive 3-acre garden. The garden that had flowers, succulents, and various other plants. The garden that was open to all visitors on Saturdays. The garden who’s owner memorized the meanings and history of the flowers that graced it. The garden that held various activities for families and the elderly. The garden that gave so much, but took nothing. Everyone knew of the garden. The garden that closed it’s gate four months ago. The garden that was filled with dead plants. The garden that no longer had visitors. The garden that stopped holding events. The garden that had cracks in the once moist and rich soil. The garden who’s owner’s heart felt the pain of every fallen petal and every bug-ridden leaf.
The owner, Y/n, hadn’t had the mental or physical energy to tend to the large garden. Not after their cousin had passed away four months ago. Their cousin had been the co-owner of the garden, tending to the look of the garden. Had Y/n had it their way, the garden would be unruly, the pathways non-existent as the plants took over the land. Their cousin, however, knew that couldn’t happen. How would they hold all their activities if there was no place to sit or walk? Y/n’s cousin had died without warning, crushing them. After the news had reached Y/n, the garden was immediately closed, a sign taped to the gate saying, “Closed until further notice”. As Y/n’s mental health declined, so did the wellbeing of the garden. Before Y/n could even think about the garden, it had already died. Their beloved plants nothing but dried up scraps that blew around in the gated area. This broke their heart even more.
The garden incident happened two months ago. Four months had passed in total, and they knew they couldn’t live the way they were anymore. They knew their family was running out of excess money to give them. They knew the garden was calling to them louder and louder every day. They knew the innocent plants didn’t deserve the neglect they received. However, when they had tried to walk through the barren garden, they were hit with a wave of nausea. Memories flooding down from their brain into their throat, pushing into their lungs, forcing their way into their stomach. Y/n laid on a random path, shaking and gasping for air until they eventually fell asleep. They woke up two days later, the sour taste of stomach acid on their tongue, a pounding migraine, and an ache in their bones that would last for at least two weeks. After that, they stayed in their house, sleeping during the day and crying at night.
One thing did bring them joy, though. That thing, or rather person, was Yamaguchi Tadashi. They called him Dashi, per his request. He brought them groceries once a week and read to them every 3 days. He was also the one to convince their boss to not fire them and to just give them time. They met a couple of years ago when he came to the garden with a tall blonde boy. He soon became a regular at the garden, often following Y/n around, asking them questions about the flowers they memorized. They became friends quickly, hanging outside of the garden. Y/n remembered the time their cousin told them to ask Dashi out every time he came to read to them. Every day when they woke up to a text from him, they felt their heart heal just a little bit. He gave them the inspiration to keep going. The way he showed them soft and tender care, made them feel like the chills in their bones was slowly going away. They knew he loved them. The only issue was that they didn’t know how long it would take for them to get back on track and know that they truly loved him back. That was why Y/n was currently at a floral shop, about to design a personalized bouquet meant for the sweet and quiet boy. They had already practiced their speech in the morning and texted him to meet them at their local coffee shop.
“What would you like to be in your bouquet?” the nice florist asked. “May I have White Jasmine amiability, Hibiscus delicate beauty, Angelica inspiration, Aster patience, Bellflower gratitude, White Carnation sweet and lovely, Flax I feel your kindness, and Lily of the valley return of happiness, please?” they asked. After the florist gave them their bouquet, Y/n made their way towards the coffee shop. When they got there it was 12 in the afternoon. “Right on time,” Y/n thought. They saw Dashi sitting at a two-person table in a pretty empty corner. When he saw them walking towards him, he quickly got up and gave them a firm hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you inviting me places again!” he exclaimed. “Yea, it’s nice to be out again,” Y/n said. When they both sat down was when Y/n noticed a cup of (favorite hot drink) sitting on their side of the table. Yamaguchi noticed their gaze at the cup and let out a quiet, “I thought I’d order it early. I know this place makes their drinks too hot for you.” “Thank you, Dashi,” they said. “Of course! Who’s that bouquet for? You haven’t talked about flowers for a while now? Is everything okay?” Y/n smiled at the way his words were laced with both care and concern. “Well, this bouquet is for you, Dashi,” they said, handing the delicate flowers to him. “Oh! That’s really sweet of you, Y/n. Do you want to explain the flowers to me?” he asked, a blush gracing the soft skin on his cheeks. “The Jasmine means amiability, and it’s there because you’re so friendly to not only me but others, too. The Hibiscus means delicate beauty because you’re beautiful inside and out. The Angelica means inspiration because you inspire me to wake up and at least try to make things better. Aster means patience because you’ve stuck with me throughout this whole ordeal. Bellflower means gratitude because I’m grateful for you. White Carnation means sweet and lovely because that’s exactly what you are. Flax means I feel your kindness because anyone and everyone can feel your kind and loving heart from a mile away. Finally, Lily of the valley means return of happiness, because every time you talk to me, I feel the cracks in my heart feel a little less deep. Listen, I know you like me romantically. I would have to be blind to not see it. As much as I want to say I like you too, I can’t. My brain and heart are still feeling so many things, and I think I should focus on myself before I focus on if I have feelings for anyone in general. Thank you for being there for me. Maybe, when I’m better, we can go out on a date and see how things go. I guess I did all this just to ask you this question. Will you restore the garden with me?” Y/n asked. There was a silence between them for a few moments, but Y/n knew it was needed for him to process everything and arrange his thoughts. They both drank their drinks for a few minutes before Yamaguchi spoke up, saying “Thank you for the bouquet. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. As far as my feelings go, I respect your decision and maybe we can talk more about it when you’re ready. Hell yeah about the garden. I wouldn’t want to do anything else than to restore that place with you!” “Sounds great!”
After that interaction, the two immediately got to work. To say it was hard work would be an understatement. The first step was to get rid of all the dead plants and weeds that were still in the garden. It took about two weeks to get a majority of the junk out. He held them every time they started to break down. Whether it be sadness about their plants or memories of their cousin. When they were in a happier mood, they would chase Yamaguchi with a rake, both laughing their asses off. The second step was to remove the old and nutrient-deficient soil in the planters. this was probably the hardest step. Digging 3 inches into the soil of all the places designated for plants was a hard job. As the days went on, Y/n’s mental health improved. They knew that if their cousin was there, they would’ve been happy, and that made Y/n happy. Not only that, but as the restoration went on, Y/n and Yamaguchi became more flirty and comfortable with each other. He started staying the night at their house. His excuse being that he wanted to be there so he could jump straight into work in the morning. It took about 3 weeks of daily work to get all the soil out. Word had gotten out that there was something going on at the town’s beloved garden. People started a donation page for the garden, wanting to help out Y/n with the finances. The third step was to get new soil in the places where plants were going to be planted. This was the easiest step, as all they had to do what pour soil into the planters. This took about 4 days to do. Some might say that’s a long time to just pour dirt in certain places, but the whole garden was 3 acres with a majority of it being planters filled with flora. The fourth and final step was to choose the plants that would be put into the planters. This was Y/n’s favorite step. When choosing the plants, Y/n let Yamaguchi choose the succulents, vines, and other plants. Anything that wasn’t flowers. Y/n went on their own to get the flowers, knowing they had to get meaningful flowers. They ended up choosing the same flowers that were in the bouquet she made for Yamaguchi, Allium prosperity, Alyssum worth beyond beauty, Baby’s breath everlasting love, Pink carnation I will never forget you, Chervil sincerity, Coreopsis always cheerful, Cosmos joy in love and life, Everlasting pea lasting pleasure, Fennel strength, Feverfew warmth, Freesia lasting friendship, Hawthorn hope, Wisteria welcome, and a bunch of other flowers that had lovely meanings.
When they were putting in the last flower, their hands patting down the soil, getting closer and closer until their fingers interlocked. The earthly smell of the soil contrasted the sweetness of all the flowers. Bees had already found the gorgeous once more. Once they had both showered up, Y/n walked Yamaguchi toward the gate of the garden. Y/n delicately placed Yamaguchi’s hand on one side of the “Closed until further notice” sign and then placed theirs on the other side. All it took was a nod and smile from the two, and the sign fell to the ground. With the extra funding they received, they were able to advertise the reopening of the garden.
Both Y/n and Yamaguchi were ecstatic, beaming as people passed by them at the front gate. The day went perfectly, families were bonding, kids admired the beauty of the flowers while their parents simply basked in the calming aura of the garden, and elderly people enjoyed watching the insects and birds from the comfort of various benches. That night was when Y/n decided to have a serious talk with Yamaguchi. They had him sat down on their couch, sitting on the other side themselves. “So, you wanted to talk?” he asked, concerned that they weren’t happy with how the day went. “Yes. Let me go get your gift,” they said. When they returned, they held a bouquet in their hands. “Another bouquet? What’s the occasion?” asked Yamaguchi. “Well...I believe I’ve taught you enough for you to know the meanings of these flowers,” they said. It was true. Throughout their friendship and the time restoring the garden, Y/n taught Yamaguchi all they knew about plants. Specifically flowers. Yamaguchi stared at the bouquet before saying, “Agapanthus means love letter, Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Clove means I have loved you and you have not known it, Heliotrope means devoted affection, Jonquil means desire, Lilac means the first emotions of love, and Myrtle means love. If you’re trying to say what I think you’re saying, I’d love to hear you say it.” Y/n let out a deep sigh before saying, “Dashi, I love you. I realized it slowly as we rebuilt the garden. I feel as though the garden represents my heart, somehow. When my cousin died, the garden died too, along with my heart. When you helped restore it, though, you also helped restore my heart. All while finding your way into it. I’ve never been happier. Seeing the garden in full swing again is what my cousin would’ve wanted.” “Y/n, will you go out on a date with me?”
~Time skip 4 years~
“Y/n, do you take Tadashi Yamaguchi as your lawfully wedded husband?” “I do!” “And Tadashi, do you take Y/n L/n as your lawfully wedded spouse?” “I do!” They stood in the middle of their garden. Flowers representing love and devotion surrounded them. Family and friends applauded as the two kissed, sealing their marriage. When they stopped, Y/n saw butterflies flying around everyone. Somehow, they knew it was their cousin.
🍄Thank you for reading!🍄
(2.2k words)
#haikyuu!!#hq#hq imagines#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#yamaguchi x y/n#yamaguchi imagine#tadashi yamaguchi x reader#hq tadashi#tadashi fluff#haikyuu tadashi#yamaguchi tadashi#hq yamaguchi
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Building Character: Sorting Hat
So recently on my main channel, I started breaking down different kinds of people you’d find in the four houses of Hogwarts when it dawned on me that this could be a useful character building exercise. So, I’m going to lay out all 48 archetypes that I named and show how this can be used to outline a character.
The Sorting Process:
My method for sorting characters is to lay out all of the archetypes I’ve found in the Hogwarts Houses, and then compare to the traits of my characters and use a score sheet to determine the best sorting for a character. I’ve already made a score card here. Luckily, all four have been given the same number of archetypes, and now it’s time to meet the archetypes.
GRYFFINDOR
The Jock
Bold, confident, adventurous, and boasting a strong quidditch team, it’s no surprise that Gryffindor is viewed as the Jock clique of the four houses. The house values of determination and relentlessness makes for quality athletes. The stereotype of the brainless jock also persists, as Gryffindor is the house most likely to be considered less than impressive in the academic sphere. Jocks also tend to form close-knit bonds with others like them, just as lions move in prides, and Gryffindors tend to behave similarly, preferring to stick with large friend circles of their own kind. This archetype could just as easily be dubbed “The Frat Guy”, but Jock is more gender-inclusive.
The Brat
Time to rip the bandage off. Gryffindor is spoiled and pampered. Between the text itself and the author who wrote it, the general opinions of the fanbase, and the clear bias of the school staff, Gryffindor is painted as the best and favorite house. It hogs most of the spotlight, and there’s even a general consensus that the other houses are all inferior to golden favorite Gryffindor. This sense of self-importance, entitlement, and blatant unfair favoritism can give Gryffindors an unpleasant and arrogant ego. This can lead them to breaking rules, bullying, and belittling other houses due to this innate sense of superiority and impunity.
The Coward
Counter-intuitive as it might seem, cowards actually fit in nicely with Gryffindor. After all, bravery is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to rise above it. The story even frames this as the most noble kind of Gryffindor. Those who act in spite of their fears. Many of the major Gryffindor characters could easily have been in other houses, but instead chose to be brave.
The Champion
When Gryffindor is flavored with Hufflepuff, they can become a champion, someone who fights in the place of others. Someone who fights for those who cannot protect themselves. The Champion can also champion against something, such as fighting against inequality, tyranny, or corruption. They can even fight on their own behalf. This is simply an archetype not afraid to raise a fuss, call people out, and issue a challenge.
The Explorer
The Ravenclaw among Gryffindors, the Explorer is constantly seeking out new things. New places, new friends, new experiences. These are the Gryfindors who fear boredom or getting stale. Life is an adventure, and there’s no point living the same day twice. Even a bad experience is a chance to learn, grow, and explore something that they didn’t know before.
The Diva
The Slytherin variety, the Diva is proud, flamboyant, confident, and ostentatious. Whereas the Slytherin Star archetype chases fame because of ambitions, Divas have powerful personalities that command attention and recognition. Stars perform to rise to power and glory. Divas perform because it makes them happy to pursuit their passions. Even someone who doesn’t perform can still be a diva if they’re dramatic, over-react, and live for that tea. They can be temperamental, flighty, and a bit vain, but they’re made to entertain.
The Risk-Taker
Gryffindors aren’t known for planning head. They’re reckless, headstrong, and fly by the seat of their pants, and the Risk-Taker is no exception. They don’t let rules, traditions, or the risk of repercussions to stop them from doing what they want. They’ll take any dare, climb any mountain, and ignore any safety warning in the pursuit of thrills and adventure.
The Immature
Just as Ravenclaw’s wisdom can make it more mature and responsible, Gryffindor’s tendency to act without thinking about the consequences tends to cause Gryffindors to behave childishly, inappropriately, and stupidly. It’s no surprise that the house that loses points the most for breaking the rules, talking back to teachers, and childish pranks is the house whose values encourage irresponsible behavior.
The Genki
The Japanese subculture of Genki is characterized by an overzealous, energetic, and upbeat personality, one which is usually loud, outgoing, and talkative. They wear their hearts on their sleeve, and speak their mind openly. This zest of lively bubbliness is often viewed as charming and likable, which fits the image of the popular Gryffindor.
The Monarch
Gryffindors are often seen as the house of leaders and heroes. As the king the other houses follow and bow to. Leadership isn’t all just crowns and a fancy office. It involves making tough decisions and having the nerve to push yourself and others forward. The image of “The Good King” enforces the Gryffindor values of leading by example, and that just and moral leadership will produce a just and moral world.
The Popular
It’s no secret that Gryffindor is kind of the house of the Popular kids. Their friendly and social nature makes them people that others want to be around. While the Gryffindor ego can branch this archetype off into the Alpha Bitch and the Jerk Jock, the verdict still stands that the most popular people in Hogwarts are likely a part of this house. Even the house itself shares this popularity, as it is the most liked and often preferred of the four houses.
The Fool
The Prankster. The Class Clown. The Fool is someone who isn’t afraid to push the envelope to get a laugh. Gryffindors are unarguably the most social house, and that desire to impress and bond with others can compel them to stop at nothing to entertain themselves and others through their antics. However, they also tend to get in trouble for this behavior, and they have to be cautious: as sometimes the risk outweighs the humor, only making them a laughing stock, rather than a laugh riot.
HUFFLEPUFF
The Sidekick
Much as it stings, this House is a mass production house for sidekicks and comic relief characters to balance with the typically Gryffindor protagonist. Hufflepuff’s values of loyalty, friendship, and integrity make for very good friend characters. Hufflepuffs as the main character are pretty uncommon, mostly popping up as the support of the team. The healer, the defender, the plucky bard with an inspirational speech. But that loyalty and integrity is truly commendable, as they are some of the most dependable and trustworthy figures.
The Paragon
When “Too Good for This Sinful World” is taken literally, these characters have moral fibers so squeaky clean that they legally cannot say “fuck”. This archetype is the living embodiment of Lawful Good. These are the characters who play by the rules always. Who decry any action that means taking the low road. The Paragon comes in two different flavors depending on the tone. They’re either the one good person who win because they played fair and who people should strive to be like, or they’re the noble idiot walking right into a trap because they’re too naive to realize that they’re the only person playing by the rules.
The Heart
Some people can lie, cheat, and steal. Some are good at pretending they’re a different sort of person. But, not this Hufflepuff Archetype. They feel too often, too strongly, and too genuinely to pull off hiding how they feel. This archetype is a bit of an open book. What you see is what you get. That’s not to say that they never tell a lie, but they’re also more likely to come clean about it sooner or later just to get it off their chest.
The Hero
Although Hufflepuff is mostly a support house, occasionally, they get to play the lead. Most common in Shonen Anime, this Gryffindor/Hufflepuff hybrid archetype fights for what’s right because it’s the right thing to do. Think of this archetype as the White Knight. A crusader against injustice who fights with integrity and does so for the good of the people. They fight because somebody has to. Because they don’t want people to be afraid, alone, or injured. They strive to be a beacon that lights the way in dark times, and gives people something to hope for.
The Councilor
The Ravenclaw hybrid of Hufflepuff house, the Councilor is someone who helps others by listening to their problems and offering advice, guidance, or support in whatever capacity they can. They care about the well-being of others and offer themselves as a trusting confidante. They are gentle and reassuring, having the patience and open-mindedness to help others deal with their issues in a positive and healthy way.
The Entrepreneur
The Slytherin among Hufflepuffs, the Entrepreneur is someone who combines the hard-working work ethic of Hufflepuff with the ambition of Slytherin to be humble business owners. Their distinction from the Slytherin Workaholic is that Slytherins work to climb the corporate ladder. Hufflepuffs work because they love what they do and enjoy doing it. A less leader based sub-archetype is the worker bee, a hard worker who takes pride in doing a good job.
The Knight
The Knight is someone who is devoutly loyal to a cause or person. Their word is binding, and if they say they’re with you, they are with you, for better or worse. This also makes the Knight very easy to turn to the side of evil, as all it takes is swearing their loyalty to an evil person or cause for them to become a crusader for injustice and cruelty.
The Self-Righteous
Another Hufflepuff that can stray into villainy, a Hufflepuff can be a total villain if they mask their villainy behind a facade of being morally virtous. The Self-Righteous is the embodiment of the religious extremist. Those who commit atrocities in the name of God, King, and Country, even if their God, King, or Country distinctly condemns such behavior. However, because they assume they are fulfilling the desires of something which is intrinsically righteous, that must make them automatically righteous as well.
The Puppy
The cinnamon roll. Sunshine personified. The Puppy is an upbeat optimist that generally sees the good in others. Like a newborn puppy they are excitable, friendly, eager to please, loyal, sweet, and happy. Some might say that they’re too optimistic, crossing the line into naive, gullible, or foolish. But the puppy’s optimism is often backed by a strong conviction and a desire to help that makes them much more resilient and strong-willed than people might assume. They make great friends as they’re always eager to help others in any way that they can, and even when upset with a person will usually look for a nicer way of airing their grievances with people.
The Peacekeeper
The Peacekeeper is someone who strives to help others live harmoniously. They break up fights, help people settle their arguments, and only fights to maintain peace. They are sensitive souls that can’t stand fighting, hostility, or bullying. They just want people to get along, and they’re willing to do what they can to make that happen.
The Caretaker
Hufflepuffs are very aware of other people. They’re the most socially intelligent house. This archetype is composed of those who take care of those around them. They’re the friends who remind others to take their medication, to ask them if they remembered to do their homework, or to make sure they’ve had something to eat. They care about the well-being of others, and will gently nurse, encourage, and support the people that matter to them. However, this archetype can also go so far that it needs itself, putting so much of their attention and time on taking care of others that they need someone to remind them that self-care is also important.
The Mundane
So many people focus on the fact that Hufflepuff is the house of modesty and loyalty that they tend to overlook that the house is also the catch-all house of students who don’t fit into the other three houses. So, this Archetype is for people who aren’t really exceptional in anything. They aren’t brave like Gryffindor, Wise like Ravenclaw, or Cunning like Slytherin. They’re the “normal” or “average” person. Someone who doesn’t come across as being important or impressive. But Helga Hufflepuff saw the value in accepting anyone as long as she had room at her table.
RAVENCLAW
The Nerd
The first thing we think of when we hear Ravenclaw, Nerds are walking encyclopedias with a treasure trove of facts and information. They tend to study because they enjoy learning. For them, school was fun, and the library is an important place. If the burning of the Library of Alexandria angers you, welcome home ya nerd.
The Geek
Nerds know facts, Geeks know pop culture. If you know what year the first issue of Superman comics was written, you’ve found your label. A geek lives for cosplay, fandom, conventions, shipping, fanfiction, and memorabilia. And they are not Nerds. Nerds and Geeks are different, but can overlap. However, you don’t have to know book smarts to be a Geek.
The Bookworm
Not all Ravenclaws are brainiacs. The Bookworm has a love for reading that is not directly tethered to book smarts. For this archetype, reading is a relaxing hobby. It is often a trait among introverts, especially as a way to decompress, and they also tend be loners who prefer their quiet alone time.
The Valedictorian
Expect this archetype to have the highest grades, to be part of every club or organization, and has probably run for class president. A Ravenclaw with an undercurrent of Slytherin, they are ambitious in their intellectual pursuits. The main thing keeping them out of Slytherin house is their love of learning and knowledge which overshadows their ambition to achieve.
The Advocate
Just as the Valedictorian has elements of Slytherin, the Advocate has elements of Gryffindor. The advocate champions the rights of the underdog, stands up to hypocrisy, and points out logical fallacies in any argument. They hold up the light of truth and knowledge to combat ignorance and prejudice through their insight and knowledge.
The Dreamer
The Hufflepuff among Ravenclaws, The Dreamer is a Ravenclaw who believes in the inherit goodness of the world. These Ravenclaws may be seen as overly optimistic and naive, but this just speaks to Ravenclaw House’s knack for marching to its own beat, and standing out in a way that shows the house’s unique and open-minded world view.
The Scientist
Typically the standard “brain” of a team in fiction, most team brains tend to be nerdy in math and/or science, such as Pidge, Edd, and Entrapta. The Scientist is invested in scientific endeavors. They seek knowledge, but can easily be warped into the Mad Scientist, as characters like Lord Orochimaru, Rick Sanchez, and Shou Tucker cross the moral line as they perform inhuman experiments in pursuit of knowledge. They tend to value logic and the scientific approach, and will seek out evidence and statistics to reach a conclusion.
The Investigator:
Those who thirst for answers, The Investigator’s interest in knowledge is directly impacted by a desire to know and understand more. However, unlike the Scientist that may use this knowledge for personal gain, The Investigator prefers exposing the truth and uncovering the facts. They love cracking codes, solving riddles, unearthing secrets, and exposing the truth.
The Adult:
Ravenclaw is a house associated with wisdom, and with wisdom comes maturity, responsibility, and leadership. Expect these people to be mom friends and dad friends, offering advice, taking care of others, and typically being mature for their age, and wise beyond their years. They behave like an adult, even from an early age. They may get a bad wrap for being boring instead of young and reckless, but they are also sensitive, stable, and trustworthy.
The Creative:
Ravenclaws tend to think outside the box, and that wild imagination and intelligence tends to leak out as writing, painting, dancing, acting, and any other creative endeavor. Even those who lack the talent to be an artist themselves can still fall under this archetype if they appreciate and value the arts and creative acts.
The Unconventional:
Ravenclaw is known for being a little odd. Ravenclaws revel in their unusual eccentricities. They’re fine marching to the beat of their own drum. A bit of a nutty genius, artists like Salvadore Dali, David Bowie, and Mozart are known for being unusual. Entire artistic movements like cubism, avaunt guard, and club kid fashion follow this zany mindset.
The Cloudcuckoolander:
Separate from the Unconventional, the Cloudcuckoolander is someone whose mind is a strange and unusual thing to outsiders. They come off as almost being detached from reality, their head in the clouds, and seeming odd in their mannerisms. People tend to treat them as delusional or crazy, but they show themselves to be strangely insightful into others.
SLYTHERIN
The Mastermind:
Exemplified by a ruthless pursuit of power, the Mastermind treats situations like a game of chess, always plotting to give themselves the upper hand. They are cunning, ruthless, and goal-oriented, usually with an emphasis on control, dominance, and authority. They usually gravitate toward leadership positions and can be very skilled at getting others to comply with their wishes. This archetype is usually seen in villains like Regina Mills, Princess Azula, and Cersei Lannister. However, occasionally, this archetype gets to be seen in a better light with characters such as Daenerys Targaryen. And sometimes it’s played for laughs, such as with Brain and Plankton’s plans for world domination.
The Perfectionist:
This ambitious go-getter is characterized by a strong drive to be exceptional in everything they do. These are the characters who strive for the highest accolades, the top marks, and mastering anything they put their mind to. Often either a cry for validation or as a means to pursue their ambitions, this type of Slytherin is all about standing out by rising above the rest. They are driven by a desire to be their best self, and they’ll work themselves ragged to hold themselves to that high standard.
The Workaholic:
Tangentially related but distinct from the last archetype, the Workaholic is someone who basically treats their entire life like a business or a job. They have a planner loaded to the brim with a schedule that always keeps them moving, and leaves very little time for other things and people unless they can manage to pencil them in somewhere. These ambitious folks are very likely to succeed in life, but their social lives tend to suffer as a result.
The Detective:
Often mistaken for Ravenclaws, or straddling the line as Slytherclaws, The Detective archetype of Slytherin is someone who studies and learns things not for the simple joy of learning as true Ravenclaws do, but more often for the challenge, thrill, or to get what they’re after. This archetype views knowledge as a vital tool and weapon in their endeavors. Even if they enjoy learning, the knowledge they seek out is specifically related to what they are trying to accomplish.
The Tactician:
Like the Detective that teeters on the Ravenclaw line, the Tactician tends to straddle the line with Gryffindor. They can be brave, heroic, and reckless, but this archetype’s main distinction from a Gryffindor is their Slytherin tendencies. Whether they’re ambitious, clever, or strategic, they lack the brute force simplicity of a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor will rush in guns blazing, while a Slytherin knows the value of a sneak attack. Heroes like Percy Jackson, Link, and Katsuki Bakugou make full use of their cunning in the heat of a battle, looking for weakspots, analyzing the battlefield, and always willing to find a pragmatic solution to whatever they come across.
The Sincere:
The archetype to bleed over into Hufflepuff, this archetype is blunt, direct, and doesn’t sugar coat things. They are brutally honest. This can come across as mean and unsympathetic. But, even if it seems like they’re just dumping salt in the wound, it just means that they don’t pretend. They can be depended on to give the whole truth no matter how much it might sting. They might openly mock their friends, but when someone needs them, they can be depended on to give the most genuine feedback. And when things look bleak, this is a friend that can usually be relied on to offer their support. And if someone is too weak or scared to fight for themselves, The Sincere is the kind of friend who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty on someone else’s behalf.
The Charmer:
Ever aware of their public image, the Charmer is a Slytherin whose ambitions are met not through power, but through playing the social game. Experts at winning people over, these Slytherins can be just as ambitious and clever as any other. However, they choose instead to recruit and convince people to follow them and do their bidding with their charms and communication skills. They’re good at arguing their case, and speaking in such a way that people feel compelled to help them. This archetype often masquerades like they’re one of the other houses, especially Hufflepuff. But don’t let their charms fool you. They’re as Slytherin as they come.
The Rebel:
The Rebel is a Slytherin who much like Gryffindors view rules as more of a suggestion than anything else. They’re just trying to have fun and enjoy life, and rules tend to get in the way of that. Often pranksters, couch potatoes, or troublemakers, The Rebel tends to balance between being misunderstood and actual delinquency. However, their rebellious nature can drive them to question old norms and traditions and try to view the world in a new way. Their refusal to bow to old paradigms can mean that Rebel archetypes are champions for change and growth, for better or worse.
The Star:
A primadonna through and through, The Star archetype is one whose ambitions are focused directly on fame. All of their ambition and hard work is all in pursuit of that loftiest goal: the fleeting spotlight of celebrity. Whether they want to take Hollywood by storm, receive a standing ovation at center stage, or go viral on the internet, this archetype is determined to be in the spotlight and make a name for themselves. They can be divas, and may even be competitive with other performers, but it’ll all be worth it when they receive accolades for all of their talent and accomplishments.
The Rogue:
The Black Sheep. The dark knight. The Rogue is the typical anti-hero. Skirting the line between hero and villain, the Rogue is a pragmatist, able and willing to do what needs to be done without letting morality or personal feelings get in the way. Cynical, snarky, mean-spirited, and roguishly charming, the Rogue isn’t quite a bad guy, but being good does not mean being nice. Like The Sincere, The Rogue is unabashedly themselves, and lives earnestly.
The Survivalist:
The Slytherin mindset is one known for being pragmatic. A Slytherin will do what they must to get ahead. The Survivalist embodies this practical approach to problems, being flexible and adapting to situations in order to gain the upper hand. The Survivalist can be someone who survives in the wild, but it can also be someone whose loyalty, opinions, strategy and behaviors can easily change and adapt to new situations in order to thrive. They can thrive in a fast-paced high-stakes situation, and can usually improvise very well should their plans suddenly change. This ability to quickly adapt to circumstances makes this one type of Slytherin that’s hard to knock down.
The Competitor:
Fans of reality shows know that some of the greatest players are also some of the most diabolical and cut-throat. Evel Dick and Danielle were a wicked power duo in Big Brother 8, and Dan got 1st and 2nd in Big Brother 10 and 14 respectively. Slytherin and Gryffindor can both get competitive, but they play in different ways. Slytehrins are far more pragmatic, and have less of a problem lying to someone’s face to get ahead. These tactics, while underhanded, are great game moves. Dan hosting his own funeral in season 14 is still regarded as one of the most brilliant plays in Big Brother history because of how completely he flipped the power in the house. The Competitor can be a total monster, but they also tend to be monstrously entertaining.
Now that I’ve laid out the archetypes, I can start evaluating my characters. Looking over my protagonist, I’m pretty sure he’s a Ravenclaw, but let’s put the character to the sorting hat’s test. My character would fit into: [Gryffindor] -The Monarch [Hufflepuff] - the Heart - the Councilor - the Peacekeeper - the Mundane [Ravenclaw] - the Nerd - the Geek - the Bookworm - the Advocate - the Dreamer - the Adult - the Creative - the Unconventional [Slytherin] - the Perfectionist - the Charmer So this matches what I assumed, that he was a Ravenclaw main, and a Hufflepuff secondary, but I didn’t realize how far he was from being a Gryffindor or Slytherin. So his ratio chart would look like this:
While it’s not hard to sort characters, some aren’t always as clear-cut and I hope this writer’s aid helped you better define your character’s traits.
#writing#writing tips#hogwarts#harry potter#sorting hat#hogwarts sorting#character creation#character building#Characterization#hogwarts houses#gryffindor#hufflepuff#ravenclaw#slytherin#writing advice
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Our gift to the world - Episode 7
Summary: Episode codas of an established Pang/Wave in The Gifted Graduation. Episode 7- Aftermath of the fight between Pang and Wave, a discussion between two broken boys.
Notes : It has been... a while, to say the least. In my defense, I kind of needed to know what they had planned for these two for the rest of the season if I wanted to keep these stories as close to canon as possible, so here I am ! Working plan right now, is posting the stories for all remaining episodes this week so I can be up to date with the finale on Sunday, and write either a nice continuation, or a nice fix-it depending on what they give us ;)
This is set after the fight Pang/Wave have, but before Pang is called away to go and meet the director.
Previous parts : Ep.1 / Ep.2 / Ep.3 / Ep.4 / Ep.5 / Ep.6
Next parts : Ep.8
Series on Ao3 here.
-
As Pang is walking towards Wave’s dorm room, he feels the weight that’s been sitting on his shoulders for the past couple of weeks getting heavier and heavier the closer he is.
After losing Time, after Korn’s injury, after isolating himself from his friends and after his boyfriend refusing to talk to him… He didn’t think his life could get any worse than it had been for the past couple of weeks. Yet after the fight him and Wave had yesterday, he knows that his assumption was wrong. Of course things could get worse.
He’s not sure he’s ready to face Wave yet, after everything they told each other yesterday, but it is precisely because of their fight and of the things Wave told him, that he knows he needs to. Things between them have been a mess for weeks, but he knows he needs to see his boyfriend so they can start mending the pieces of their relationship.
As Pang is walking to the room, he rehearses the speech he’s prepared and everything he wants to tell his boyfriend. He’s not sure that Wave will want to see him, but hopefully the excuse about needing to recuperate one of his school books that’s been left in Wave’s dorm room for weeks now will be enough to get him through the door, at least.
Thinking about it, he can’t believe that things have actually come to that between them, with him needing an excuse to come and see his boyfriend. But well… He knows he’s partly to blame for the situation.
Although it’s true that Wave had given him the cold shoulder for the past couple of weeks by ignoring his texts and his calls, which they definitely need to talk about, Pang is aware he’s not blameless in their situation. Wave had ignored him, that much is true, but he hadn’t made any particular effort to actually try to talk to Wave face to face either, too lost in his sadness and anger at the other boy for ignoring him for so long.
After their fight yesterday and the things Wave had said… Well. Let’s just say Pang is only now starting to realize how much he’s actually hurt his boyfriend, and he hates it.
‘I can’t help but wonder if you think I’m your boyfriend, or just your tool.’
The words have been resonating in Pang’s mind since yesterday, and he can’t think of anything else. Is that what Wave truly believes ? How he truly sees them ?
He’s always hated everyone who’s hurt Wave in the past, who made him feel like he wasn’t enough, wasn’t loved. The people who are responsible for the trust issues that Wave still carries to this day. And now, Pang has somehow become of them, and the thought makes him sick.
When he finally reaches Wave’s dorm room, Pang has no idea what awaits him inside, but he knows he can’t simply let this go. Although he doesn’t think he can take another hit right now, not after everything that’s happened in the past couple of weeks… He can’t let Wave go longer believing those things about their relationship and what he means to him either. He needs to talk to his boyfriend.
Taking a deep breath to settle himself, Pang finally forces himself to knock on the door, before pushing it open when he hears Wave’s call to come in. He finds his boyfriend staring at him coldly from where he is seated at his desk, a carefully put-together blank expression covering his face.
He feels Wave’s eyes move along his shoulders and chest briefly, a look Pang doesn’t recognize flashing across his face as they do, before he carefully puts his nonchalant look back in place.
Frowning, Pang looks down at himself, before suddenly realizing what he’s wearing and what the look meant.
Wave’s red jacket.
He hasn’t done it on purpose, and it wasn’t a conscious move to try and sway Wave, or whatever thought might be crossing his boyfriend’s mind right now. It had just been a reflex to pull it on earlier, the jacket being his go to item when Pang wants to feel safer. He hadn’t even thought about what wearing it today could mean.
For the past couple of weeks, with everything falling apart around him, the jacket has brought a small amount of comfort, reminding him that even if Wave and him weren’t talking right now, he wasn’t alone in the world. That he had someone in his corner.
He wonders if that’s still the case.
Pang braces himself for Wave demanding the jacket back, half expecting it after the fight they had yesterday, but his boyfriend stays silent on the matter, prompting Pang’s small sigh of relief.
“What are you doing here ?” Wave finally asks coldly, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I…” he starts answering, before completely losing track of everything he had planned to say while walking over to the room. “I forgot one of my school books in your room and I need it for class.”
Wave keeps staring at him silently, though Pang thinks he sees disappointment cross his face, although the look is gone too quickly for him to be certain about anything.
“It’s right there. You can take it and go,” Wave tells him, indicating where the book is laying on the desk with a short movement of his head, before he turns back towards his computer, completely ignoring Pang.
Pang feels his throat close up at how easily his boyfriend is dismissing him, causing hurt and anger to well up in his chest.
God, this can’t be it. They can’t be ending, not like this.
“Listen Wave…,” he starts saying, trying to recall everything he had meant to say to his boyfriend earlier. “I should have apologized to you earlier and made more of an effort to speak to you. I don’t see you as a to..”
“You should have,” his boyfriend states, cutting him off mid-sentence. “But frankly, we’re way past that point now Pang,” he finishes saying coldly, and Pang can’t stop the anger that the words ignite in him.
How is it so easy for Wave to dismiss him ? To dismiss them, and everything they’ve been through over the years ?
“So that’s it then ?” he asks bitterly, trying to hold back the words but not able to contain them with the anger swimming in his chest. “We had a fight and I messed up, and you’re just never going to talk to me again ? I said I was sorry, why can’t you believe me ?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say Pang,” his boyfriend responds coldly, not even turning towards him to say the words.
“I want you to talk to me ! I want you to try and fix this with me !” Pang anguishes, and although he sees his boyfriend’s shoulder tensing, he doesn’t turn around to look at him and keeps silent.
“Wave if you hate me this much, why did you even bother to help me that night ? Why did you come and comfort me instead of leaving me alone, if this is how you really feel ?” Pang asks, emotion making his voice crack and tears welling up in his eyes.
The words prompt his boyfriend to turn around and look at him in disbelief.
“Because I love you, stupid !” Wave shouts in answer, his mask of indifference finally falling, letting the hurt and anguish he’s feeling apparent for the first time since Pang entered the room. “Trust me, sometimes I think things would be a lot easier if I did hate you. But I love you. And right now, loving you hurts.”
The words cut deep, and Pang feels the tears that had been pooling in his eyes finally drop against his cheeks. If you had told him that hearing Wave say he loves him would one day cause him so much pain, Pang would have never believed it. Still, hearing the words his boyfriend rarely says out loud coming out of his mouth under those circumstances breaks his heart.
When Pang looks up towards Wave, he sees silent tears gather up in his eyes. The urge to move forward and comfort him is so strong, Pang crosses his arms against his chest to stop himself from reaching for him, knowing his touch wouldn’t be welcome right now.
“Wave,” he starts saying in a small voice, the depth of the hurt they’ve both caused each other with their fight becoming clearer.
“I just… I just can’t right now, Pang. I can’t talk about this. Not now,” Wave announces defeated, and Pang’s head drops, not able to look into Wave’s eyes right this moment.
He knows that he should give his boyfriend some space, knows Wave well enough to know that he needs time to process everything before they can mend this, but everything hurts right now, and he doesn’t know how to deal with the pain alone anymore.
“Wave… We love each other. Please don’t end this,” he says brokenly, the words barely a whisper, and he sees Wave’s hands twitch from where they are at his sides, like he himself is having trouble stopping himself from reaching forward to hold and comfort Pang.
“I’m not,” Wave says, a small wave of relief rushing through Pang before his boyfriend continues speaking. “But I can’t talk more tonight Pang. I love you but right now, I don’t really like you.”
Once again, the words cut deep and Pang feels his breath catch in his throat. He knows that Wave didn’t say it to hurt him, that his boyfriend is just being brutally honest as he usually is when conveying his feelings, and that somehow makes it worse. The words themselves hurt of course, but what hurts more is knowing that if Wave said them right now, it’s because he actually means them.
At this moment, he truly doesn’t like Pang, and that’s one of the worst feelings.
Defeated and recognizing that there is little chance of them going anywhere tonight, Pang finally nods in silence, before he turns around and makes his way to the door.
Just as he’s reaching for the doorknob, Wave calls his name and Pang stops in his tracks, turning around to face his boyfriend.
“I’m sorry about bringing up Nac and throwing him in your face yesterday,” Wave says, avoiding his eyes. “I know that’s not what happened with him, and it wasn’t fair of me.”
Wave still can’t look at him, and Pang feels tears well up in his eyes once again at that fact, but he shakes his head.
The comment about Nac had hurt, it’s true, but not as much as Wave telling him he thought Pang saw him as insignificant and as a tool to be used. And definitely nowhere near as much as the thought of him and Wave being done for good, which is what’s been running through his head since the beginning of this conversation.
“This isn’t the end, right Wave ?” he asks softly, feeling smaller than he has in years. Their relationship is such that Pang is often the one reassuring an insecure Wave, and for the first time, Pang understands what Wave must have felt all those times he feared Pang might be done with them. He hates the feeling.
Wave smiles at him sadly, finally looking up towards him, and Pang feels his heart clench in his chest.
“I think we both need some time to get our heads on straight. We’ll talk later,” his boyfriend finally responds.
It’s not an answer in itself and Pang is fully aware of it, but he doesn’t press the issue. He doesn’t think he could actually bear hearing Wave say that they’re done anyway, not on top of everything that’s happened in the past couple of weeks.
With one final nod, he reaches for the doorknob and leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind him, before he slides down on the floor, utterly defeated.
Small tears are running down his cheeks again, and Pang lifts one of his arms to wipe them away with the sleeve of his jacket, the burgundy red catching his eyes.
Wave hadn’t asked for his jacket back.
And just like that, the weight crushing Pang gets a tiny bit lighter.
They’re far from okay right now, and Pang knows that very well. But his boyfriend hadn’t asked him to return the jacket either, and knowing how important it is to Wave, that has to count for something.
It’s really not much, but it’s a sliver of hope that Pang can hold onto.
He doesn’t know what awaits him and Wave in the future, and he doesn’t know how they’ll fix this and get past everything, but the jacket is a small sign that Wave hasn’t given up on them either, and that’s all Pang needs right now.
The thought is enough for him to get up from the floor, and start walking back towards his own dorm.
Things are a mess right now and so many discussions will be needed to fix things and to repair the trust they have in each other, but Pang has to believe they’ll manage.
Him and Wave have always made the best team in everything, and he refuses to let go of that.
Not now, not ever.
#the gifted graduation#pangwave#pang x wave#pangwave fic#pangwave fanfic#tgg#the gifted graduation the series#yo it's been so long I'm really sorry guys#but I have all the rest planned out and hopefully I get them all out this week so we're on time for the finale#also this one is pure pain again#so my apologies about that but we're trying to stay close to canon here ><#so enjoy the angst !#emi's writing
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I’m Here (Coda to 1x10 “Brainwave Jr.”, Wildstar pre-slash, 3.2k)
Losing Henry was sad, but it's not the first person Courtney knew whose future was snatched by the Injustice Society of America. That doesn't make his death any less tragic. It does remind Courtney how screwed up and dangerous her life was. At least she was able to wake up the next day and keep moving. And so was Beth, and Rick. But Yolanda...
Where was Yolanda? Courtney needs to know.
Courtney’s bag falls to her wrist as her shoulders sag, expectant tension fizzling out in disappointment. She stands frozen at the corner of the school’s hallway, gaze trained on a familiar and abandoned locker. Students and faculty passing it without a second thought, unaware that its owner will no longer have use for the space and all left inside. While the memory stays fresh because it constantly repeats itself every few seconds, Courtney still woke up thinking it might have been a dream. A projection from Brainwave, forcibly implanted in their minds, instead of the awful truth. That she would walk into school and find Henry going about his day like everyone else.
He’d never get the chance again. Like Joey, Joey’s parents… her dad -
“Hey,” she feels a hand snake itself around her elbow, startling Courtney from her thoughts. Beth offers a kind smile while dragging her past Henry’s old locker. “How are you holding up?”
She glances behind her one last time in punishment, answering without thinking. “Better than Henry.”
“I think we can all say that.” Rick joins them, squeezing Courtney in a loose hug on her other side. Their trio walk in silence until they reach Courtney’s locker, letting her search inside for her books. “Yesterday was fucked up.”
“I can’t believe Mr. King…” Beth hugs herself, shivering, “he always seemed kind of… cold, whenever I would run into him at the hospital. But, to do that – to his own son – that’s…”
“Fucked up?”
She sighs, “Yeah, exactly.”
Rick leans against the lockers, staring ahead with a dazed look in his eye Courtney recognizes. She saw it in her own reflection, after washing her face the night Joey died. Like being dragged from icy waters and left on fragile ice, no protection from the freezing winds slashing your skin like knives. Surviving, but barely. “You kept saying he was a villain. And knowing what we know it wasn’t hard to trust you. But being there and watching… If he was willing to do that to his own son… what’s that mean for any of us?”
Courtney stuffs textbooks into their section, steadying herself with a deep breath. “It means we need to strike them before they get at us,” she tells them, voice bouncing off her locker walls. “To prove that Henry didn’t… didn’t sacrifice himself in vain, and that we can stop his father and the others. Prove to them all that good will triumph and…” Losing steam, she closes her locker with a slam. “And everything else.”
Scoffing, Rick pushes off the locker. “And everything else? Real inspiring speech there, Court.” His sarcasm drips off his words and onto her shoes. “Give us the truth, do we have any chance in beating them? Or are we doomed to end up like Henry?”
Before she can answer him, Beth jumps in. “Of course we do,” she says, a brighter, more genuine smile stretched across her face. “We’re the good guys! Plus, we’ll all be together – I don’t see how they can beat us as a team!”
“Beth…” Rick pinches his brow, fighting the smirk twitching on his lips, “I doubt the power of friendship and teamwork will work on cold-blooded killers.”
“Maybe it will if you let yourself believe. You know, Chuck says –“
“I don’t want to hear what your computer boyfriend has to say.”
“Chuck’s not my boyfriend,” she whispers, shoving at Rick while choking on an awkward chuckle. “And he’s not a computer – he’s an AI. An AI of a superhero, who’s in my backpack and can probably hear us.”
Rick’s good mood finally appears, egged on by teasing Beth. “Sorry,” he says, grabbing for her shoulder. A friendly gesture hiding betrayal because he immediately spins her around, loudly talking with her backpack. “I didn’t mean to offend your AI boyfriend!”
“Rick!”
Watching Beth repeatedly slap Rick should have lifted Courtney’s spirits further. They settle at a halfway point, enough that she knows moping around won’t do any good. For Henry, and everyone else in the town, they need to pick up and carry on. She’s thankful for her friends being there, helping her believe in the muddled speech she gave earlier. Beth, Rick, and –
“Hey,” she interrupts their bickering, looking around, “Where’s Yolanda?”
Her question snuffed what little lightness broke through the heavy darkness. Beth draws her hands back from Rick’s collar, wringing them. “Courtney,” she starts, eyes bouncing around everywhere except Courtney, “do you really expect her to be here. After what happened with Henry…?”
Courtney remembers. Escaping from the underground tunnels, tears streaming down hers and the others’ cheeks. Navigating the dark tunnels, searching for the staircase they came down. Yolanda tripping halfway, a sob ripped from her chest alongside Henry’s name. In the next breath Rick picked her up and shouted, “Keep moving!” Courtney trailing after them, numbly letting Beth lead so she can hold the rear. Brainwave, Dragon King, or any of his cronies could have rushed them at that point; she wasn’t paying attention. She was too busy with Yolanda and how she clung so tight her claws ripped through Rick’s cape. Cycling through a number of phrases that didn’t feel right enough.
It didn’t matter. They stopped running, ten blocks from Cindy’s old house. Gasping, tugging on their masks save for Yolanda. In the space between Rick setting her down and Courtney asking if anyone was hurt, she disappeared.
And she refuses to answer any of Courtney’s texts.
“No,” she tells them, “Did I hope…?”
Rick shrugs sympathetically. “Yolanda needs her space right now,” he says, “her and Henry… shit’s complicated. I doubt she’d be able to fake enough enthusiasm to make it through school like she normally does.”
“But it’s not safe,” Courtney fires back, frowning, “The Injustice Society… Beth’s right. We need to be together. If she’s alone and-and upset, it’d be easy for them to pick her off and…” She replaces Henry’s body with Yolanda’s, a frightening chill rushing through her like Jordan grabbed Courtney with his icy hand and squeezed.
Except it’s not Jordan, it’s Beth again. She lets go of her wrist, stepping away. “If Yolanda’s in danger, she’ll call,” Beth tells her, “Besides, it’s daytime right now. The Injustice Society’s been operating in secret for how long? They won’t risk blowing their cover now. If we haven’t heard from her when school ends, then we can go to Pat and go looking. Okay?”
Courtney nods, stomach uneasy. “Okay.” She bites her lip, thinking. “Also, until this is all… sorted out, I think we should be closer, easier to reach in case there is danger. Like… sleepovers?”
Beth claps, bouncing. “Sleepover!” she gasps, “I’ve always wanted to have a sleepover!”
“You know this will be less about braiding hair and more about keeping us alive, right?” Rick asks, crossing his arms.
“I won’t let that take this victory away from me!”
Courtney looks at Rick. “You in? I’m sure my mom will be cool now that she knows about… everything, but she might have you sleep downstairs.”
He rolls his eyes. “Just tell her I’m gay. That nothing’ll happen.”
“Listen, after the Cosmic Rod, I think I’m done lying to my mom for a while…”
“Good thing it’s not a lie.”
“Oh.” Courtney pauses, letting Rick’s tactless declaration sink in so she won’t continue with a foot in her mouth. She was getting too familiar with the taste of shoe leather. “I’m not sure that’ll change her mind, but it’s good to know. Thank you… for telling us.”
Rick’s mouth stretches in a thin smile, haze faded from his eyes. “Honestly thought you knew.” He and Beth set off from Courtney’s locker, slow in their exit. “You coming? The whole sticking together plan won’t work if you get detention for being late… then we’d all have to get detention –“
“I will not,” Beth says, “Courtney don’t get detention!”
Courtney chuckles, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll be there, you guys go on ahead…” She waits until they disappear around the corner, her happy expression dropping into seriousness.
Class is the furthest thing on her mind. A waste of her time. She knows what she must do, even if it goes against her own orders. Courtney knows Beth and Rick won’t be mad, though, if her plan works out.
First, she needs to escape. Doing that should take a few minutes, especially with how quickly the halls are emptying. Courtney casually retraces her steps, tiptoeing past closed doors hoping no one spots her. Still, knowing how important it is she leave quickly, Courtney cannot help detouring by the dark training room. Punching bag swinging from the breeze instead of Yolanda’s punches. The dull thud echoing with her grunts, Yolanda truly in her element. In those days when they were still strangers, and she wondered who would join her new Justice Society, Courtney found herself drawn by those noises. Studied her friend’s form and skill, hidden from view. Although Yolanda knew. Always did, but never bothered shooing her off.
Both were glad Yolanda let Courtney watch as long as she did.
“Hey, shouldn’t you be in class?”
Courtney spins, an excuse ready at the draw. She doesn’t use it. Silence preferable given who caught her.
Cameron’s brows dip in confusion, “Hey, Courtney… you okay?” He waves his hand in front of her face, Courtney flinching despite herself. There wasn’t any frost.
“Sorry, Cameron,” she says, slouching, “you caught me off guard.”
“No kidding…” He pulls tighter on his backpack strap, other hand buried in his pocket. “So… what’re you doing?”
Nothing she can tell him about. When Courtney pieced together Jordan’s identity, she briefly considered what it meant for her and Cameron. She did mourn the possibility of something more happening between them, but the biggest feeling Courtney had about that being over was relief. “I was on my way to the bathroom,” she lies, “because of… girl issues.”
He blinks at her. “Girl issues?”
“Y’know,” she gestures at her body, “the usual. Think I’d get a break because of the accident, but no… time stops for no woman.”
Cameron understands, a slight blush dusting his pale cheeks. “Oh, I… I hope you feel better,” he says, shifting on his feet, “Hey, if you’re not busy later –“
“Sorry Cameron, gotta go!”
Courtney disappears, rushing off from the scene. She doesn’t stop until she sees the doors leading to the parking lot, practically barreling into them. However they refuse her, knocking her away. Not taking rejection lightly, Courtney tries again. And again. Rattles the push bar so loudly she’s sure anyone in a five-mile radius can hear her. Huffing, Courtney kicks the door and collapses against it.
“Stupid… door… why won’t you… open…?”
She hears someone clear their throat behind her, Courtney tensing. Peeling herself off the door, Courtney sees the school’s janitor standing a few feet away. Staring disapprovingly, no doubt frowning from behind his bushy beard. Mop held at his side like a sword, scabbarded in its bucket. “Are you trying to leave?”
“Leave?” Courtney snorts, waving his question off, “No… why would I – that’s…” Wincing, she braces for what comes next. “Please don’t tell the principal!”
Eyes closed, she hears what happens next. How the janitor walks closer, mop bucket rolling after him like a trusty steed. His soft humming accompanied by the jingling of a few keys. Finally, the squeaking of hinges as the doors open. Courtney pries her eyes open, gaping at the janitor. He holds it open for her, waiting.
“I don’t understand,” she says, “Why’re you -?”
“I’m sure there are more important places you need to be.”
While cryptic, Courtney shoves her suspicions aside. Questioning her janitor can be saved for a later date, when she can ask Pat if any of the Injustice Society had beards, talked in a strange accent, and were named Justin. Until then, Courtney thanks him and runs outside. Finds the Rod waiting at the parking lot’s entrance, hovering in place. “Hey,” she says, petting its head, “I know you need your rest, but…”
--------------------
She was in the woods. Courtney descends from the sky, silent, as Yolanda tears through another tree. Many others laid strewn about the bloodless battlefield, victims of her claws. Given the amount, Courtney guesses Yolanda was there all night. She hadn’t gone home, slept, ate, or even changed her outfit. The Wildcat bodysuit looked duller, dust from the tunnel’s debris untouched. Peering closer, Courtney saw some in her hair.
Rick was right. This is some complicated shit.
Yolanda stops, one hand raised above about to slice through more wood. “I know you’re there Courtney,” she says, “can you please leave me alone?”
Courtney jumps off the Rod, it flying off like it knew they should have space. “I think alone is the last thing you should be.” She walks closer, careful. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She swings her hand down, Courtney wincing as metal nails meet wood. “Not really.”
Nodding, Courtney changed course and sat on one of the fallen logs. Watched Yolanda finish eviscerating the tree’s trunk until it couldn’t stand any longer. The tree fell onto one of the others with a loud crash. Its death wail hiding Yolanda’s own screams that left her ragged and clutching onto the base of the trunk. Courtney’s heart twists at the sight, and her fingers twitch on her knees. She doesn’t move, though.
“Feel better?”
Yolanda catches her breath. She punctures the trunk with her claws, voice a deep growl. “No,” she says, “because it wasn’t Brainwave. None of them were Brainwave.”
Studying the massacre again, a heavy weight settles in her stomach. “Yolanda,” she starts, “are you seriously thinking of killing –“
“Yes.” Yolanda turns on her heel, facing Courtney. Shoulders squared and head held high, she almost convinced Courtney. Except her bottom lip wobbles slightly. “After what he did to his own son? What he promised to do to you, your family… there’s only one way of stopping him.”
“Yolanda,” Courtney stands, frowning, “you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re the good guys,” she hisses, striding closer, “Good guys don’t kill. We stop the people who want to kill.” On instinct she grabs for Yolanda’s wrist, only for the other girl to snatch it away. Nerves fraying at the action.
“Funny,” she scoffs, glaring, “were you the good guy when you fried his brains? When you put him in a coma?”
Courtney blushes, faltering somewhat. “It was an accident,” she tells Yolanda, “I had only just gotten the Rod. I didn’t mean to –“
“Which is why he’s still walking. Why he was able to…” Yolanda skips over the words, shaking her head. She pops her claws, holding them between her and Courtney. “I won’t make the same mistake you made.”
“Yolanda…” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. She’s conflicted. A small voice in her head sides with her friend, thinking how a man as awful as Henry King doesn’t deserve life if he would so flippantly take it from people he should care about – like his wife and son. But another one, a voice she thinks is her father’s, overpowers the crueler instinct. “I won’t let you make that mistake.”
“I. Don’t. Care,” she spits, slashing the air, “I’ll go at him by myself if I have to. Let him try and stop me.”
Again, the image of Yolanda buried under a pile or rubble pops into view. Seeing it spurs Courtney forward, and she seizes her friend’s hand despite the sharp nails. “No! He’ll kill you!”
“Courtney –“
“Please, Yolanda,” she says, trusting her gut as she drags Yolanda into a hug despite her rigidness. “Please… don’t go after him alone. You saw what he can do, I can’t… just, promise me.”
The silence stretches on more than Courtney would like, but thankfully Yolanda agrees. “Fine,” she says, “I won’t go after him alone.” She shifts in Courtney’s hold, “But I have to… he has to pay, for what he did to Henry.”
Courtney curls her fingers around Yolanda’s neck, closing her eyes. “Do you think Henry would want you to kill his dad?”
Yolanda shudders, breath wet on Courtney’s neck. She waits as the other girl considers her question, defenses slowly crumbling. Her arms rise and wrap around Courtney’s back while a sob breaks free. “It’s not fair,” she hiccups, “it’s not fair!”
“I know Yolanda, I know…”
“No, it… I spent so much time hating Henry. Believing he was nothing more than an evil bully. Convincing myself that if he were to die, that I wouldn’t feel a thing. Hell, I almost eviscerated him myself. There were so many times that I could, that I wanted to. I mean, he ruined my life. But at the end I… I still loved him.” Her knees wobble, so Courtney guides them to the floor. Courtney kneeling, with Yolanda stretched out across her lap. “And now he’s gone. Because he trusted his father to be a good man, when really he’s scum. Maybe we could’ve worked on what we had, or maybe I could have forgiven him. That was taken away from me. He died and I couldn’t forgive him. I still can’t forgive him for what he did… even after he gave his life for us. I’m not a good guy Courtney. I’m an animal…”
“You’re not an animal Yolanda,” Courtney tells her, stroking her hair. She tucks her head under chin, resting on the helmet. “Yolanda, you’re a hero. You’re exactly the kind of person I knew you were when I gave you Wildcat’s costume. And what Henry did… what Brainwave did, that doesn’t change anything. Because you’re strong. That’s why you never gave in, why you won’t let yourself kill Brainwave even though every part of you may want to. You won’t let yourself sink to their level.”
“I’m tired of having to be strong all the time,” Yolanda says, “Why can’t it be easy?”
Courtney sighs, “I wish they were. I wish my dad wasn’t a superhero, and he and all the others weren’t killed. But he's gone, and they’re gone… so it’s up to us to stop the bad guys.”
“Do we have to stop them now?”
Pausing, Courtney’s lips quirk up in a tiny smile. “No… no, not right now. We can just sit here and be easy. Sound okay with you?”
Yolanda nods, “I’d like that.”
They stay like that for a while, Courtney holding Yolanda. Rocking her slowly, gently like the waves. Yolanda’s body relaxes in her arms, breaths evening until Courtney thinks she’s asleep. When she says the other girl’s name and gets no response, she continues at a whisper. “I’m sorry so much has been taken from you,” Courtney tells her, staring up at the cloudless sky, “I won’t let them take anything else. We’re going to beat them. You, me… Beth, Rick, even Pat… we’re the Justice Society. The good guys. Good always wins in the end.”
In the forest, surrounded by fallen trees and with a slumbering Yolanda in her lap, Courtney finally believes in what she said. The lingering shadows of Henry’s death shed from her mind, the wisps disappearing into the sky. A hushed voice breaks through her lazy thoughts, thanking Courtney. Before she can wonder who said that, Yolanda stirs in her grasp.
Distracted, Courtney soothes her tired friend. “It’s okay Yolanda, I’m here… nothing will happen. And if it does? I’ll protect you…”
#stargirl#stargirl cw#1x10 brainwave jr#courtney whitmore#wildcat#yolanda montez#beth chapel#rick tyler#wildstar#stargirl x wildcat#stargirl fic#wildstar fic
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Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!
Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too.
I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful.
Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………
And When You Soar-Chapter 1
Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.
“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.
“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man
“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.
He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line.
“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.
She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat.
Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions.
He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.
He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow.
He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.
Did you make your flight?
Barely
That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘
If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.
Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.
Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.
Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍
You’re confusing me with you, again
Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.
Hey, I know how to have fun.
And by “we”, do you mean…..
Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️
I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.
Love you, big brother
Love you, too.
The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.
The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.
He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.
The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.
Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.
He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.
It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.
I see you’re on my flight. Enjoy the ride to Rome.
Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.
He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile.
All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?
Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.
The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?
He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.
I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?
Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.
By that logic, you would be one in a million, also.
Oh, I definitely am.
How self-aware of you.
Self-aware and humble.
And….working right now??
Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.
Because I’m distracting you?
Don’t get ahead of yourself. It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB
Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.
He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.
“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”
This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.
He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.
“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”
Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.
“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”
The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.
“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”
This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.
He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.
Aren’t there rules about texting and flying?
You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.
In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.
Don’t stop.
I’m not worried.
Good. Tell me something?
Ask away.
What takes you to Rome?
My little sister’s impromptu wedding.
Scandalous. Have you met her other half?
Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.
Ah, family drama, ever delightful.
Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine.
How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding?
Just a few days.
It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……
That would be great.
Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.
“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.
“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”
Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.
He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.
So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.
Is that a thank you?
Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?
Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight. Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now.
By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??
People who want their pilots to send them free booze.
Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.
Seriously though, thank you for the drink.
You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)
Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me.
Would you rather I not?
No….you can.
Good, because I’m fond of it.
Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.
Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that.
Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!
Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink. Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.
I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that.
I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.
I’m actually blushing.
I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself.
I don’t do selfies.
Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class?
It was all booked. I checked.
Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you.
YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t.
Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs.
No.
No?
No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself.
Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?
My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?
If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well.
Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?
Do you know anything at all about airplanes?
No, but you could teach me.
With pleasure.
Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.
Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight.
By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink.
This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things.
She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by.
He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.
Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.
How was dinner?
Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.
Nonsense, it was my pleasure.
Thank you.
Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had?
That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )
Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)
I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)
Hah. A high compliment.
How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.
Who told you about that?
Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.
Ugh.
I like Maia.
AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!
Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?
And I figured you would. She likes you, too.
Nobody likes me.
That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.
Please stop.
Are you blushing again?
I’m not sending you a selfie.
What if I pout?
Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that.
*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.
So generous.
You have no idea how generous I can be.
You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.
Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.
That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.
Did it make you smile?
Maybe……
Yes.
Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.
Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.
Goodnight, Alexander.
Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.
Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.
He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!”
He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.
He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.
Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. If you need anything else, let me know.
Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.
You are a gift, you know that?
Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?
It’s too early for sentences like that.
It’s never too early for sentences like that.
How long until we land?
An hour and seventeen minutes.
Aren’t you getting tired?
I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.
Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.
He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.
Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.
He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.
Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.
Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned.
~M.
If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.
Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.
Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him.
Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?”
Alec balked.
The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”
She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”
Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…”
He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.
The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it.
There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.
It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word.
And then there he stood.
There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.
Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took.
Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him.
They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.
They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.
“Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.
“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”
Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.
“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.
Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”
Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”
He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”
Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”
At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.
He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.
Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.
Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”
Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”
“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.
“Alexander,” he practically purred back.
That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him.
Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.
“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”
Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.
“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.
“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”
“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.
Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”
Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?”
Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”
“Ish?” Alec asked.
“That’s what I said.”
“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.
Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.
Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.
Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”
“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.
“You can’t,” Alec said.
“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.
The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips.
Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face.
Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.
Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?”
“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.
Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”
#asks#answers#ever-so-nice#this was so lovely#thank you#and im sorry for being such a damn hot mess#and when you soar#oh how i have to get to working on this#ive missed this version of them#fanfic#myfics#malec#malec au#pilot magnus#the one prompted by the twitter post of a pilot messaging someone on grindr
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Schooled (Bucky Barnes)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OC
Summary: After the passing of Ava’s father she starts acting out which drives her right into the arms of one gorgeous Professor Barnes.
Warnings: fluff, little bit of angst
Words: 2062
A/N: So, I’ve got no idea whether America has bonfire night or not?? Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx
Part Seven - Dinner and Dessert
Ava was roused from her dreams by the incessant ringing of her alarm clock, she groaned sleepily and shut it off before flopping back down on her bed, her head still felt foggy. With much effort she got out of bed and picked out her clothes for the day. She sighed when she looked at the reflection in the bathroom mirror, her hair was a mess and there was mascara smudged beneath her eyes where she failed to take it off properly.
Sunday, the day after Halloween she had gone over to Pepper’s place to have dinner with Pepper and Morgan, just like she had promised before she started college. She had turned up, extremely hungover to say the least and she had ended up getting wine drunk with Pepper after Morgan had gone to bed. Thankfully, she didn’t feel too bad – though her reflection told a very different story – she washed her face, put a little bit of makeup on and she traipsed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Pepper was making bacon and eggs, she looked as hungover as Ava did and by the look of it, Morgan was still in bed. She looked up and smiled when Ava walked into the room, “good morning sweetie,” she kissed Ava’s cheek, “I just made a fresh pot of coffee, do you want bacon or eggs?” she asked.
Ava shook her head as she poured some coffee into her thermal flask, adding cream and sugar to it, “no thanks, I need to pick up some books from my apartment before class starts, so I’ll grab something on the way,” she smiled but grabbed a piece of buttered toast anyway.
“So, there was something that I wanted to speak to you about,” she sounded nervous, she kept her eyes on the pan, seemingly determined not to look at Ava, “you know how your dad would throw his costume party on bonfire night?”
“Yeah?” Ava asked, sipping her coffee.
Pepper chewed her lip as she turned round to face Ava, “well, I thought that we could throw it this year, as a tribute to him,” she said all of this very fast as if she thought that it would soften the blow.
Though, Pepper didn’t have to be nervous because it was a great idea, to have Tony’s annual party to pay tribute to him. Her dad had been throwing his themed parties since Ava was a little girl – she remembered there was a medieval party where Ava got to dress up as a princess. Tony had always thrown his parties on bonfire night, so he could throw a spectacular firework display at the end of the night.
“I think it’s a great idea, I really do,” Ava beamed and Pepper smiled gratefully as she sat at the kitchen table.
“I know you’ll probably want to go to the festival with your friends.”
There was nothing really special about the festival on bonfire night, it was literally just like the Christmas markets, and they were only tailored to make money. But, it was a tradition to go with MJ and Wanda, “the festival is on in the daytime, so we can easily do both,” they both planned to have a party planning night – with lots more wine. After a couple of minutes, Ava left to pick up the books that she needed for her class.
As she was walking across the quad with MJ, Peter, Wanda and Loki, – she was telling them about the party – Peter’s Aunt May came walking up beside the group of friends. She was the Head of the English Department.
“Hey, Ava, I was hoping to find you,” she smiled and passed Ava a sheet of paper. Ava sighed as she looked at it and she felt tears prick at her eyes as she saw the big red rejection stamp. She was stuck in Bucky’s class, “I’m sorry, I know that it’s not what you wanted to see. But, since there really is no alarming reason why you want to transfer out of Professor Barnes’ class, we just can’t accept it. I really am sorry.”
Ava sighed and smiled at her, “its fine really, don’t worry about it.”
May smiled, “have a great day guys,” she nodded at them, kissed Peter’s cheek and strode back across the quad.
“Hey, I didn’t know that you wanted to switch classes,” Loki pouted and Ava shrugged, it wasn’t like it mattered now anyway.
“It’s really no big deal,” she sighed and exchanged unhappy looks with MJ and Wanda.
Reluctantly, Ava traipsed into the lecture hall with Loki and she casually put the stamped form on Bucky’s desk. She put it face up on the desk so that he couldn’t miss the huge red stamp, she couldn’t believe that she was stuck here for the rest of the semester. She found her seat and sat down, raising he brown eyes to see what his reaction was.
He looked at the form for a second before he lifted those pretty blue eyes and looked at her. He shot her the most gorgeous smile that she’d ever seen; it reached his eyes, making them crinkle at the edges. She also thought that he looked pretty relieved. The rest of the lecture passed by without a hitch, Ava took part and spoke up more than she usually did. She was thankful that Loki had tutored her in the ways of Shakespeare.
At the end of the lecture, Ava smiled at the handsome man as she passed by his desk, “hey,” he started in a quiet voice that made Ava look back at him with a raised eyebrow, “so, your request was rejected huh? I’m glad.”
Ava frowned at him, narrowing her eyes, “why are you glad?”
“Oh! Um,” Bucky flushed and stuttered, “you’re such a good student. I wouldn’t want any other teacher stealing you away.”
Ava could tell how lame of an excuse it was and she couldn’t help but laugh, “okay then,” she also noticed that Bucky looked stressed to no end, “what’s wrong? You look pretty stressed.”
Bucky regarded her with those gorgeous blue eyes before throwing up his hands, “what the hell,” he sighed, “my dad and his new girlfriend have invited themselves over for dinner tonight, they didn’t give me much warning. My dad is a rich snob and he expects bloody dinner and dessert, if not he’ll go on about it for days. I don’t have time to make both dinner and dessert so I guess, he’ll just have to be disappointed, as usual,” he finished with a bitter tone.
Ava sighed, she hated to see him so stressed, the look didn’t suit him, if she was going to be stuck in his class for the rest of the semester then they needed to be civil with one another. Ava wanted to help him, “I’ve got an amazing recipe for chocolate lava cake, I could make a batch and drop them off?” she offered.
Bucky smiled gratefully at her before shaking his head, she just knew that he would refuse, “don’t worry about it. Won’t you be late for your minor psychology class?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and reaching for his book.
Ava smiled as she plucked the book out of his hands, giggling when he pouted and reached forward to take it back. Ava threw the book behind her and she looked at him sternly, “now, you listen to me. You’re a good guy Bucky; I still believe that, no matter what transpires between us. Your dad has got no right to be disappointed by you, let me help you. Bucky, please.”
Bucky was silent and looked at her with wide round eyes as she performed her little speech, “fine, okay. Thank you Ava.”
The young woman smiled as she placed her phone on his desk and pushed it towards him, “here, put your number in and text me your address.”
Bucky raised a thick eyebrow at her words, “seriously, you want your Professor’s number?” he smirked and Ava rolled her eyes at him.
“We weren’t always Professor and student,” she hesitated, chewing her lip, “and besides, if I’d stayed with you that morning in Greece, you probably would have had my number anyway,” she flushed as Bucky smirked to himself as he typed his number into Ava’s phone.
-----------------------------------
Bucky smiled tightly at his dad’s new girlfriend, Candace – she was pretty young, even younger than Bucky himself, his dad always had gold digging younger girlfriends – before excusing himself to get a refill on his drink. He sighed in relief as he had a little bit of peace and quiet in the kitchen as he sipped his very watered down whisky.
Bucky’s dad, George, had invited himself for dinner, along with Candace, making some excuse that he wanted to see his grandson, though George had never visited Harry when he was in hospital. Bucky knew that George’s excuse was a load of bullshit; Bucky bet that George had only come over to tell Bucky how disappointed he was.
George owned a multi-million company and he’d always wanted Bucky to take over the business as George’s heir. When Bucky told his father that it wasn’t what he wanted and that he was going to college to become a teacher, he knew that was the day when he had truly disappointed George. Ava was coming over with dessert in about half an hour so Bucky was going to supply George and Candace with drinks in the meantime. He didn’t want to serve dinner until Ava brought dessert over.
“So, bud,” he felt a sharp slap against his shoulder and he turned to see his dad grinning at him, “what do you think of Candace?” Bucky sighed as he poured out a rum and coke for George before sliding it over the kitchen counter, towards him.
“She seems great dad,” Bucky mumbled untruthfully before he gathered his courage, “your girlfriends seem to be getting younger and younger dad. How long is this one going to last? 3 months? 6 months?”
George laughed as he sipped his drink, “Candace is the real deal, hopefully our son or daughter will be the heir to my business,” he shot a glare at Bucky, “you had so much potential, my boy,” George sighed before walking through into the living room.
Bucky grumbled and followed him. It was a very awkward half hour as George pretty much interrogated Bucky about his life and his teaching. He paid hardly any attention to Harry, which pissed Bucky off massively. The next time George even mentioned coming to see his grandson, Bucky wouldn’t let him. He got marginally more uncomfortable and fidgety when Candace winked at him and she refused to take her eyes off of him.
When the doorbell rang, Buck was more relieved than he could say as he practically jumped up and ran to the door. He pulled the door open and smiled at Ava who had a covered tray in her hands; she looked very pretty with ringlet curls in her hair.
“I made a mixture of white and milk chocolate lava cakes for a bit of variety,” she flushed and handed the tray over to him.
He beamed at her, “thank you so much, Ava. I’ll find a way to make it up to you,” he was about to tell her that he would have invited her inside but his dad was a nuisance. Before he could speak the words, George barged right past his son and narrowed his eyes at Ava.
“Is this your girl, Buck?”
Bucky flushed, as did Ava, “err no, dad. She’s-“he tried to explain but George cut him off.
“God, what was I thinking? Of course, she’s not your girlfriend,” disappointment was evident in his eyes and in his voice.
Ava crossed her arms and glared at the back of George’s head, “actually, I am his girlfriend, we just haven’t made it official yet,” she said as she touched Bucky’s arm. George smirked at Bucky while Bucky shot Ava a look of surprise.
She smiled at him prettily and he realised why she told George that she his girlfriend, he gave her a grateful smile back as he gestured for her to come into his apartment. Tonight was not going to be fun in any shape or form.
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@void-imaginations @theonelittleone @thejemersoninferno @mikariell95 @lovely-geek @leclerc-stan @allthingswildareshy @writingkeepsmewhole @white-wolf-buckaroo @goodolbucky @rosemoonmist
#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes au#professor au#professor!bucky#professor!barnes#sebastian stan#seb stan#sexy seabass#the winter soldier#michelle jones#mj#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#pepper potts#pepper stark#peter parker#spiderman#aunt may#marvel imagine#marvel#marvel au#marvel fluff
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Dodging Death (Caster Gilgamesh, Hakuno, Ereshkigal, Ishtar)
The hour was around midnight. The night candles were burning the hour, flickering with colored smoke when the new hour would come. He vaguely remembered the fizzle of green before the doors to his offices had opened.
The figure had moved into the room, hiding under her hood.
“I am not seeking an audience today,” he had told the figure, wiping clay off his writing instrument. It wasn’t because he was not in the mood, simply that the day was about done. His people were going to bed and he had a great amount of work to complete before dawn.
It would be another late night because of that.
So many late nights.
“My king…”
He knew that voice.
Glancing over at the figure again, Gilgamesh groaned.
“Ereshkigal.”
The blonde lowered her hood, looking at him with all the depths of the underworld hanging under her eyes. Her expression was one that would have made any stomach twist in unease.
They both knew the gravity to which the woman was visiting him.
“It’s ah… It’s time.”
“I won’t go.”
He moved from his seat, pulling one of his blades from the gates.
“Ereshkigal, you and I both know that I am needed here. I have the entirety of Uruk down to a science. I have everything as it should be. My people are at their greatest contentment with their world. We’re increasing territory, covering more ground and sending the other kingdoms…”
She sighed.
Was that what this was about?
Was this because he was pushing back Nippur and Ur from their place in the world? They were unsuitable, hardly ruled over at this point. The fact that they had heirs and royal families would mean nothing by the end of the year.
He would slaughter all of them before this year was out.
Had they appealed to the gods? Was that why she was here?
“My king,” Ereshkigal moved a step forward.
He had his axe held tighter.
“You cannot avoid death, my king.”
“We’ve done this song and dance, Ereshkigal. State your desires and we’ll see them met. We have always been able to come to a compromise.”
“Not on this.”
He gave a swing as she came towards him, but somehow she’d increased her speed. Her feet landed softly on his axe, forcing him to be open to an attack.
Her fingers held his chin up to look at her.
“My king,” the woman murmured. “It’s not that I want to kill you. It’s not even that this is my job. You are well aware that I am not supposed to come topside to handle these things. It’s for my people to handle.”
“Then why are you here?”
Ereshkigal shook her head. “I knew you would not come for anyone else.”
“I will remain here in Uruk. As a divine king-“
“Partially divine.”
The woman moved away from him, knocking the axe from his hands and pushing him back into his seat. He could see her fussing with things here and there.
She’s making it look like I struggled.
Had he been accepting such a fate, he probably would have appreciated that, but he wasn’t going to surrender Uruk yet. He wasn’t that old!
Gods, he’d only grown fewer beards than fingers upon one hand!
“I’m sorry, my king,” Ereshkigal told him.
“I’m not dying today, Ereshkigal.”
The woman shook her head at him. “You have no choice.”
He did.
Above all, he had all the choices in the world. He was the king of this land. He was the absolute ruler, the one who could defy the gods now with the wisdom that he’d acquired after all the trouble he’d encountered before when he’d had…
Now was not the time to reminisce about the being.
Ereshkigal sighed, pulling her blade out.
“Please don’t make this too difficult,” the woman pleaded.
“I’m never too difficult,” he told her simply.
He was, in fact, quite simple.
The tomes he needed were in his library. He would simply need to escape the woman and run for it. Given the distance and the opponent he had, he could do this.
Her blade came falling.
Gilgamesh slammed the contents of the gates upon her and booked it for the doors, slamming it shut and slamming a spear nearby through the handles of the doors.
He didn’t stop, booking it as fast as he could through the hallways. His breath was coming in shorter than usual. It must have been a while since he’d been running like this. When this was over, he’d exercise a bit more in this manner.
The library doors were thrown open.
Without pause, he rushed in, grabbing from the bookshelves and tossing them down upon the desk. He could hear the goddess calling for him.
He needed to find the spell to weaken the goddess. He needed something-
“GILGAMESH!”
Another voice was joining the first.
He could almost curse at the sight of the other goddess here. Naturally, she would come. Why wouldn’t she, since he’d insulted her so greatly not so long ago. Ishtar’s dark hair sailed out behind her. Her and her sister were both glaring at him.
“I know just the thing!” Ishtar yelled.
He glanced at one of his texts, at a spell to send himself to another place.
Without reading much into it, he cast the spell, letting the gates of sorts open.
There were wild beasts screaming along the streets. There was heavy rain falling upon the ground on the other side of the portal.
Ishtar screamed something.
He jumped.
Then, everything changed around him.
His body went barreling through the pathway, rolling over and over along the earth. The earth in this land felt so vastly different from his own that he could not even begin to place where he’d landed. The heavens were an endless and vast space above him, darker than the depths of hell.
The howling beasts sped passed him with large, gaping eyes. He couldn’t see much of anything around them. The more they rushed passed him, the more he found himself screaming.
Only, he wasn’t screaming.
No, rather than screams, there was a yowling coming from his lips. He couldn’t get off of all fours for some reason and he could feel himself being drenched in the rain. He must have been wearing a coat or something.
He rushed for the darkness nearby, but he heard something screaming at him.
Water splashed at him as something came leaping at him.
ERESHKIGAL!
Mud splattered onto his face and person, but there were a giant’s arms around his being. It was like Humbaba herself had captured him.
“Hakuno!”
He could hear a voice crying out to someone, but he couldn’t see. The rain was coming down so hard.
Gods, but he was so damn tired.
Exhaustion was filling his person.
Had Ereshkigal caught him? Was this what the depths of Kur had in store for him? Death and desolation in the form of Humbaba getting revenge on him? Was this because he had mocked the being for ages on end, teasing about having sisters he would give the being and teasing that the being was someone worthy of being haggled with?
A light flickered on above them, flickering here and there.
Looking up, he could feel a pair of hands stroking at his cheeks, He was on the woman’s lap, her face illuminated as more lights were coming to life around them.
The woman was positively drenched. Her hair hung in twirling brown waves around her face. Her pale face held a pair of dark eyes that looked down at him.
Yet that smile was so soft.
Those hands were filled with a warmth that was soon accompanied by a coat wrapping around his person.
“You’re okay, little one,” the woman told him, in a voice that would have made all the goddess he knew weep in jealousy. Her warm coat and her gentle smile coaxed more of his strength from him.
Truly, he felt safer now than he had before this evening had even begun.
“Hakuno!”
The woman turned her head, finding the one who was holding the light of the beasts in her hands. He couldn’t see the face, just the light, but there was an outline of someone behind it.
“Sakura,” his Hakuno told her. “This cat has been wounded. I think we need to find an emergency vet as soon as possible.”
“He’s lucky to be alive! …or she.”
HOW DARE THAT MONGREL!
I AM A MAN, YOU IGNORANT SCOUNDREL! He tried to yell.
Tried.
The sound of spitting and hissing came from his lips. He found the woman holding him closer. His giant savior, in all her beauty and glory, cooed softly to him.
“It’s okay. It’s fine,” she purred to him.
It was most definitely not fine! Where the hell was his voice?!
The woman was rushing, the woman next to her following along as they booked it through the darkness. The lights above were like strange torchlight. They didn’t flicker and ebb away into nothingness at the rainfall. The people here must have found a way to harness the sun.
Was this Larsa?
The god Utu reigned over that land. While he had not personally been there in a while, he was surprised at the idea that the god would have permitted them to possess light when his people were plunged into darkness thanks to Nanna.
The gods aim against me, even now.
“Here!” The monstrous heathen that had dared to call him a woman was now illuminated.
Paltry. Wearing a coat of pigment upon her face that had become ruined by the rainfall.
You are no Hakuno, he attempted to tell her.
The sound of more meowing came.
What the hell was happening to him? Was this Ishtar’s idea of amusement? Curse him into forever being trapped with the speech of a feline? Gods, be he could already see Siduri having a field day with such an idea. She would enjoy nothing more than teasing him about his speech.
Listen to the great king Gilgamesh speak like a cat.
Perhaps next he’ll lick himself.
Gah!
Ishtar would pay for this. As soon as he returned to his kingdom, he would make the two goddesses suffer for this assault.
“What is this?”
Gilgamesh found himself placed upon an altar, a figure looming over him.
“I’m sorry to be coming here so late,” his savior told the spice smelling, darkness building fiend. “This cat was running across the road and he was almost hit. He’s got some cuts.”
“He has more than that.”
Let go of me, Gilgamesh growled.
Well, he managed to growl, but still he found no words escaping him.
“Are you planning to adopt the cat?” The man asked his savior.
I am not a cat!
“…I could.”
“Either you are or you are not. If you are not, then he will be placed in the back and treated in due time.”
“Please treat him now. I’ll take him home.”
He was not-
The man grabbed at his arm- Leg.
That’s a cat leg.
Gilgamesh stared at it, his insides churning at the sight of the overly hairy limb that the man was grabbing. Sure enough, there was some blood amongst the matted fur. He could see the man leaning in closer, grabbing something from nearby and pouring what felt like pure acid upon his skin.
He yowled.
A pair of hands stroked him softly.
“It’s okay,” the woman murmured.
It wasn’t okay.
Glancing down at his body, he could feel himself growing faint.
He was a cat.
A small, golden looking, honest to goodness feline. It was little wonder that these humans had seemed like giants to him. It was little wonder that he felt like he was in an entirely different realm.
It wasn’t that the world was vastly larger here.
He was just smaller.
Gods help me.
A pair of lips pressed against him.
Mana.
Gods, but he needed that mana. He turned, trying to get closer to the woman that had pressed that sweet kiss to his person.
“Miss, please refrain from touching him too much.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Kotomine.”
Burn in Kur, Dr. Kotomine, Caster thought darkly.
Everything ached and burned when he was handed back to the woman nearby. His body was barely functioning as he lay helplessly in her arms and the woman talked to the bastard.
“He will need neutered.”
NO!
“I’ll ah… I’ll be sure to think about it.”
For the love of all that was divine, he prayed like he’d never prayed before that she would not think about that. He was a man. He had these balls and this manhood for a reason and he had not yet achieved his ends with them.
He had heirs to help bring into this world.
“Allow me to find you a carrier-“
“I’ll carry him,” Hakuno told the man.
He found himself bundled into the woman’s coat, pressed between her breasts. Heavenly breasts, he thought tiredly, purring despite himself.
His eyes closed on the sight of the evil bastard and the fiend from earlier.
His eyes opened to the sight of the heavenly woman leaving another chamber and entering the one with him in it. Her hands were ruffling a fabric against that hair of hers. Her body was wrapped only in a fabric that covered her upper body and hung like his old friend’s robes.
“Are you awake, Gorgeous?”
Gorgeous?
He tried to sit up, glancing down at his paws again.
I’m a cat.
This was remarkably awkward.
Try as he might, he could barely get a single spark of magic to run through his veins in this form.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
The woman moved to the bed, pulling her into her arms and curling up with him near her pillows. The woman’s lips pressed against his head.
“You’re safe here,” she murmured to him.
Safe?
Glancing around, Gilgamesh paused.
Technically, there was nothing he could do. He had the option of struggling and finding himself in a worse position or simply accepting fate for now. If he accepted his situation and allowed himself a moment, he could indulge in this woman’s comfort. He could listen to her voice and curl up in this bed, which was bigger than anything he’d ever seen.
He could rest…
When was the last time he’d rested? Truly rested?
He leaned close, licking the woman’s cheek only to find the woman looking at him with the most dazzling golden brown eyes he’d ever seen. Her smile- no, her glow that she had at him licking her- it was like nothing else.
I’ll rest for a few hours and then find a way to become human.
A gentle touch was stroking his person.
He could hear his own rumbling, the purring sound filling the air around them despite his best efforts to stop.
A kiss came here and there, followed by reminders that he was safe.
She was there, she told him.
Then I am in your care, he thought tiredly.
May she care for him well until he awakened and became human once more.
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