#just be glad I made him change out of an ugly outfit first | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

le-amewzing · 2 years ago

Text

Doubtful

Still on a Cloneling kick, yo. B3 *Note: This is set before s1e18, "No Escape."

Fic: "Doubtful" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: pre?Starling/Jake's Evil Clone, Captain Valor, & some OC heroes

Rating: K+

Words: ~6,090

Additional info: romance, angst, friendship, 3rd person POV

Summary: Starling thinks it's a useless endeavor, questioning the "prisoner" the League has in holding, because there's nothing bonding them. But the League's impatience could prove otherwise….

Starling is glad. Not ecstatic or overjoyed…all right, maybe even "glad" is pushing it. But she's relieved, nevertheless, once she brings in Jake's clone and the League of Heroes accepts her back into their ranks.

This ugly chapter of betrayal is closed and behind her. She can get back to life as it's supposed to be.

…or, that's what she tells herself, at first. After bringing the clone in, Starling knows some changes have to be made. Valor and the other heroes ask her to renew her dedication to the League, but, at the same time, Starling makes a promise to herself, to temper her thoughts of Jake and of the Maddens.

After all, the last thing she needs is for the League to suspect her again and to go digging things up. Or worse, to learn the truth about Jake's clone.

But those first few days back in Centropolis, back at the League, are surprisingly quiet. The days roll into a week, and several more days pass without consequence. Then Captain Valor summons her to his office before the end of her second week back.

Valor's as well-rested as ever, and he's comfy behind a cherry wood desk almost as red as his outfit. He smiles when Starling enters and motions for her to near, since he doesn't keep chairs on the other side for guests. "Starling, good to see you. You're well, I take it?"

"I'm good, thank you," she replies, hands folded politely behind her back. Truth be told, the pose is partially out of politeness, partially to keep her fidgeting under control. She still doesn't know what to make of him after he issued the Jake-or-banishment ultimatum. Starling once thought she knew Valor, she's always looked up to him, but now…

He sits up straight in his comfy, leather-backed chair and temples his fingers atop his desk. "That's good." Valor takes a breath and, still smiling, adds, "Look, Starling, I'm going to cut to the chase. The League's decided—"

She internally flinches. A part of her thinks the "League" hasn't decided anything, because she's part of the League and hasn't been included in any decision since her return. But she stills her tongue, worried about what's to come.

"—that it's dissatisfied with just holding on to the villain Chaos."

Starling blinks. Her mind goes blank. …but…they're heroes…right? "What do you mean?" she asks. She's never seen or heard of them doing anything evil and she's not about to partake in any such plan.

He cocks his head to the right in a fatherly manner. "Don't worry, Starling. We know you're fond of him."

She frowns. But it's useless to sell them on the lie that she's suddenly fallen out of love with Jake.

Valor waves his hand, as if anyone falls in love with a villain just as a person has a fondness for a clear, blue sky. "Starling, you don't have anything else to worry about. In fact, you'd be a great help right about now. We'd like for you to question him about his family's plans. This way, we can search for other ways to bring in Havoc and the rest."

Her frown deepens to a grimace. Again, she has to remind herself that they're the heroes…but she disagrees with Valor's proposed tactic. She's seen the Maddens. She knows they're, oddly, doing their best to live normal lives. They're trying to walk the straight path, for real.

Valor's eyes bore holes into her. His smile seems far less fatherly or friendly the longer he waits for her reply.

Starling realizes Valor and the other heroes won't care, even if she explains the Maddens to them. But she's got to buy herself, to buy Jake and his family, time. And so she nods.

"Good girl. I always knew you'd make the right decision, Starling."

And so her quiet, normal days at League headquarters come to an end.

Her first visit to the clone's holding cell takes place that same afternoon, an hour after Valor summons her.

Starling doesn't really know what to make of the holding cells. She doesn't come here often except to throw the occasional villain inside. Never has she had to pay anyone a visit before, so it's a new experience, waiting outside the bolted door for the locks to slide free and for the door to open. She steps inside and the door closes behind her.

…somehow, the clean lines of the white-and-silver halls of the League look cold and cruel in here, a ten-by-ten room that makes her feel claustrophobic. As in other cells, the ceiling is one large, white light, and the only furniture in here is a simple cot on a metal frame bolted to the floor. There's a bathroom/shower combo somewhere in the back, but that's always tucked away by a panel in the wall, produced upon request so prisoners can't abuse the facilities.

She clears her throat to announce herself, since the clone has his back towards her. "Hello," she says.

The clone, sitting on one edge of the cot, glances her way and raises his eyebrows at her. It's eerie, like having Jake look down on her from across the room. "You again. Thought you threw me away and tossed the key."

Starling frowns (good grief, how often will she do that these days?). "I came to talk," she tells him.

"You might've, but I don't feel like it."

Now she sighs. "Have you had any company since I brought you here?"

He grunts.

She takes that as a "no." She's heard that he barely eats the food they deliver, too, but he's not interacted with the low-level heroes who make the deliveries either. "You might not like me, but I'm a familiar face. That's gotta stand for something."

The clone half turns her way. His expression is caught somewhere between glare and disinterest. "It might for someone who cares or needs people. Such as your J—"

Starling narrows her eyes and takes a step forward without thinking. "I get your point," she grinds out.

He smirks, seeing her riled up. It…really is strange, seeing that face look at her with anything but affection.

"I'll be straight with you," Starling mumbles, figuring this is the only way to keep their conversation going. "The League of Heroes wants me to talk to you in the hopes that you'll give up something about—your family." She falters, because they're not his family, but they've got to keep up the pretense.

And he catches on. He holds her gaze for a heartbeat before facing the wall once more. "Then they should know I have nothing to say."

Her shoulders sag, and Starling fingers the edge of her cape. Today was a good, solid first effort, and she can read in the way he squares his shoulders that he's done talking for the day. So she takes her leave, pondering how next time might go.

She doesn't have long to wonder.

Starling has a photoshoot the next day (because, of course, the public isn't privy to her villain-loving ways, so she's still the darling of their eye), and she can't make time to see the clone between hair, makeup, and wardrobe. She settles for trying again the day after that.

The clone behaves much the same as the first time, barely turning towards her and reacting to her words as little as possible. It still unnerves her to see him smirk or, worse, sneer, but at least he hasn't shut down on her completely.

And, as long as he keeps reacting to her, Starling sees an opening. Not that she wants to go along with Valor's plan, but…she wouldn't mind having someone to talk to in this building. Sure, the clone likely is plotting against her, but she can count on that, instead of constantly second-guessing herself when it comes to the people she's supposed to believe are her allies, her comrades.

That perspective alone convinces Starling to switch tactics. So what about the League's satisfaction or lack thereof? So what about Captain Valor's and the others' plan and hopes to round up the rest of this villain family? The League wants a tool.

Starling's goal is different. Starling wants…a friend, she guesses.

Not that befriending Jake's clone is ideal. Even when she can visit him for consecutive days and tries to strike up some small talk, the clone—once foolish enough to fall for the deceit that brought him in—is on high alert and not biting except to get in a snicker here and there. Nothing's going to change with this version of Jake who wants to be a villain, who wants to be Chaos.

…five days of one-sided small talk that makes her feel as though her skills are lacking later, and Starling doubts that being friends isn't on the table either.

"Well, I managed to squeak out of my commercial shoot early this morning," she says when she arrives at lunchtime at the start of the next week. Starling glances at the food tray on the floor and nudges it with the toe of her boot towards the clone.

The only change over the past few days has been him facing her…sort of. These days, he sits on his cot, half turned towards her, with one leg tucked under him in a relaxed, unthreatened manner. Today, he completes the uninterested vibe by resting his cheek against his propped-up fist. "Yay," the clone says with flat affect.

Starling quirks an eyebrow at him for the mockery. "Hey, you would've, too, if you knew being there would've eaten up your entire day."

He scoffs. "Thought you enjoyed all these things you do, for the fans." The last bit he says with a sassy little shake of his head to emphasize.

The emphasis as well as his callout make Starling bristle, and her face warms. She straightens up from leaning casually against the inside of his cell door and shoots him a glare. "That's not—!" Starling takes a breath. "I do love my fans, and I'll do plenty for them."

The clone lifts his head. That fist unfurls, and he strokes his chin. "Being a hero not all it's cracked up to be, then?"

Her face falls, even though her mind's eye flashes to Valor's request. "Heroes exist for the good of the people, whatever that may be," Starling ultimately replies.

Jake's clone raises one lone eyebrow, which says it all: You didn't answer the question.

Starling purses her lips: And I won't anytime soon.

He shrugs and waves her off then. "Well, you've yakked at me for the day." He rolls his shoulders and runs a hand through his hair (a shade darker than the actual Jake's) but doesn't move to grab his lunch. "Until tomorrow, then."

She frowns and wants to point out that this could hardly be called a chat (or even yakking, for that matter), and she wants to bug him about eating like a regular human (the boy's got to put on a better act or somebody's going to catch on). But her brain catches up with his words after a three-second delay.

"Until tomorrow."

And she has to stifle a grin, because… Either he's resigned to Starling's visits by now or (and it's a big "or") perhaps he's…looking forward, in his own way, to seeing her, too.

Starling thinks about that "Until tomorrow" that night, during her patrol; his words breeze through her mind the way the night air stirs her ringlets on a rather uneventful night out hovering above the defenseless masses. The words stay on her mind the next morning, too, and through their next several visits. So Starling pricks up her ears from now on.

The clone doesn't always grumble "Until tomorrow" when signaling the end of their visit. Sometimes it's "Tomorrow, then" or, these last couple days, it's been "Later, then." He still smirks a lot, and he mocks her a lot, but—

He faces her fully now, person to person. Er, clone to person. But the clone sits on the edge of his cot every day now, facing the door, almost as if he waits for Starling to turn up.

She hopes her surprise doesn't show on her face, more so when he's the one to initiate the day's interaction.

"So," the clone huffs with his arms crossed in front of his chest, "what is it today?" His head lolls to the left, unimpressed. "Another ad campaign? No, wait, don't tell me—today was your autograph signing."

He…remembered? Further baffled, Starling nods and gives him a starlet's casual shrug. "It's called a 'meet-and-greet,' actually. And that's this evening." She can't help it. Her lips curve up in a tiny smile.

The clone purses his—but he doesn't frown. He does jerk his chin at her, however, as if motioning her to chat away.

And she wants to, she does. But Starling's also aware that it's been nearly two weeks since Valor assigned her this task. Not only has she not reported back to him, but Captain Valor weirdly hasn't asked for any updates yet. The lack of interest has her on edge, but the whole situation has her curiosity piqued, too. Starling licks her lips and takes a couple steps into the cell, choosing not to linger by the door. "May I ask you something?"

He grimaces. It's strange… When he frowns, he looks just like Jake when Jake's feeling down. But when he grimaces, he looks like another person, someone wary and calculating. His eyes, that jawline, the little swish in his hair—he might share all of that with Jake, but his mannerisms remind Starling less and less of the boy she holds close in her heart, the more time she spends with the clone.

Still, Starling finds herself wondering more what else makes clone and original so distinct, and she fiddles with the edge of her cape as she waits for his response.

Eventually, the clone glances at the floor before returning his eyes to her face. Then he nods.

Starling swallows a tiny lump in her throat. "Did you— Did you ever get along with—them?" Again with the pause, a reminder that the Maddens are family but not his.

The clone scoffs. "…Havoc's the only one that comes close to being dastardly, rotten to the core." His arms slip free, and he leans back on the cot. "But they're not the same. They're not worth my time anymore."

"But—" Starling furrows her brow. "Villains…are villains."

"And quality's an issue there just as it's an issue here," he quips with a sneer. Without warning, he gets to his feet and takes two steps forward.

Instinctively, Starling takes two steps back, and her heart races, hammering against her ribcage.

The clone pauses and slips his hands into the pockets of his orange jumpsuit. He studies the frightened hero before him for a few seconds and then continues, "You're either strong enough to accept the 'Chaos' moniker or the like or you ditch what you can't handle. It's really that simple."

The crease between her eyebrows deepens as she tries to make sense of his remarks. "I'm not sure I—"

"I simply embraced the chaos."

Oh. Ohh. He embraced the Chaos. Starling's eyes widen when they meet his as things click into place.

All this time, she's thought of him as "the clone" or "Jake's clone." Jake and the others kept referring to him as "Bad Jake," even.

But the clone's telling her that he does have a name, that he's taken for himself the one Jake's doing everything to shake: The clone refers to himself as "Chaos."

And…since her Jake is doing everything to become a good person…Starling thinks she can accept this new fact wholeheartedly, to better keep these two separate. Jake and Chaos, no longer one and the same.

It helps a lot with the distinction, but it also gives Starling pause, because Jake Madden has a family, one the heroes are out to get. But Chaos? Chaos has no one. There's no use in asking anything about the Maddens, she knew, but now she wonders if the distinction ever gives Chaos a pause for the same reasons…

"Hey."

She blinks and snaps out of her thoughts. "Hm?"

With his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hang loose; if not for their outfits, Starling wonders whether they might look like two peers hanging out. "I really have nothing to offer you about them." Chaos pauses and glances at one of the anklets strapped to him to dampen his powers. "Except maybe a gripe or two about J—just that guy," he says, correcting himself.

She's grateful for the cover, but Starling gets that, by now, Chaos has grown accustomed to existing, even though Kraniac created him not too long ago. Hiding his existence benefits everyone. Nevertheless, she musters half a smile for him, glad he's finally opening up to her. "I told you a familiar face had to stand for something," she gently teases with a flourish to her masked countenance.

To her surprise, Chaos snickers (or is it a chuckle? hmm) and smirks. "I think that's all for today, hero."

"Not the last of me you'll see, villain," she retorts with a grin. This is the lightest she's felt in weeks. Weird.

Chaos rolls his eyes and walks back to his cot. "Yeah, yeah… Tomorrow, then," he says.

"Tomorrow, then," Starling echoes, and she tips her head to him upon exit, ignoring how it sounds as though they've made a promise.

…she does start to think of it as a promise, though, as the days pass and her skin crawls.

It feels as though the hallways have eyes, everywhere she goes, never there when she turns to catch a glimpse.

Under normal circumstances, Starling would go to Captain Valor, or to Lumina or to Lady Nox, mentors who Starling always trusted. But that was before Jake Madden. That was before she brought a clone into custody.

Instead, Starling passes by Valor and Lumina talking in undertones in the mess hall. Lumina raises her bejeweled head to say hello, but Valor blocks her from view, making sure to catch Starling's eye. There's no hint of that paternal friendliness from before. If anything, he's disappointed, wants his status update yesterday, or both.

Starling hastens from the mess hall, scurrying to the holding cells and impatiently tapping her foot outside Chaos' door as the bolts slide free. Only inside, with the door shut behind her, do her nerves calm and that crawling sensation dissipate.

Somehow, Chaos' cell is the safest place to be at the League of Heroes. Or…no, not safest. But most comfortable, without a doubt.

"Hey, Chaos," she finally says, pulling her eyes from the floor. She halts—and her cheeks puff up with suppressed laughter.

He all but drops his food tray like a hot coal onto the cot. So, he will eat when he feels like it. "You're interrupting my lunch," he says with a partially full mouth.

Starling narrows her eyes at the lack of manners. Then again… She narrows her eyes at his door, too. No manners versus constant surveillance and suspicion? It's a no-brainer for her. Starling comes inside a bit more and leans against the wall opposite him, sliding down until she sits on the floor. "Yes, well, lunchtime is better spent with company, isn't it?"

"Shouldn't you be eating, and elsewhere?"

Her stomach sours at the memory of Valor and Lumina just now, so Starling shakes her head. "I'm all set."

"Suit yourself." He waits several seconds, but then Chaos caves and eats more of the gruel on his tray. The oddball pics at the half sandwich, eating the crust and not the main part. When too much quiet passes, he rolls his eyes and tosses her the sandwich innards. "You look sick. Be sick somewhere else, hero."

Starling frowns and looks at the sandwich (peanut butter and jelly—tried and true), but her stomach's too iffy to take a bite. "I'm not sick. I…" Hmm. Well, he did open up a bit about his thoughts on the Maddens. And himself, too. So Starling opts for some of her own truth: "It's my reason for being here."

Chaos pokes the other items on the tray with his spork before sliding it on the floor across the room. The tray stops half a foot away from clattering into the door. Then his eyes are back on her.

"I…don't interrogate people."

"Clearly."

She pouts at him, tears off a tiny nub of bread, and throws the debris at him, which makes him snicker. "I told you they want me to have you spill your guts to me. And I—I don't like that." Huh. It feels…good, to tell someone, finally, her honest opinion about her assignment.

Chaos brushes crumbs from his chest, but his snickers don't cease. "Well, what did you expect? You heroes aren't all good, you know."

That catches her off-guard. She's caught herself questioning heroes' inherent goodness from the moment Captain Valor asked this task of her. Hearing Chaos voice her thoughts to her, even in his blunt manner, is jarring.

He shakes his head. "In a world where the villains aren't very bad and the heroes aren't all good—well, kinda makes you wonder who's left, doesn't it?"

Starling picks at the sandwich, mulling his comment over. It doesn't sound like his normal dig at Jake turning good or a prod at her for being a hero… It really does sound just like food for thought, about the only food she can handle in that moment.

Silence settles between them the longer she dwells on his notion. Eventually, Chaos interrupts the quiet with a large sigh. "Starling."

Her eyes are glued to the dismantled sandwich. It takes a second to refocus on him.

Their eyes meet, and he pauses, the straight line of his lips curving downward in the slightest frown. His lips part, but he says nothing…no, he changes his mind. "Never mind," Chaos mumbles, averting his eyes.

Starling's shoulders sink, and disappointment sprouts in her chest. She has half a mind to call it an early day…but the thought of heading back out into the watchful League corridors chills her, so Starling turns to more banal topics, like getting her cape repaired or which of her new products will be ready for the holiday shopping season, topics that will calm her down and make Chaos ignore her chatter if not tell her outright to shut up.

(Except…today's different, because Chaos sits there and listens without complaint. So strange, this one.)

Visit after visit, Starling finally admits to herself that the only place she feels comfortable or even welcome anymore around the League is Chaos' holding cell. She questions why, usually when they're together, as if his presence offers any clues.

Perhaps it's because he's in on the secret. That's the first thing that comes to mind when Starling noticed her panicky breathing calms when she comes here recently… It helps, too, that she and Chaos have established little tricks and codes for when the Maddens do come up in conversation. She always pauses before emphasizing the family; he usually uses some turn of phrase to work "chaos" into the conversation in a manner that sounds as though he's oddly talking about himself in the third person… But, this way, they keep their secret intact.

Perhaps it's because he's got Jake's face. Starling kicks herself a lot for this notion, because she misses Jake sorely…but it's both nice and painful to have to look at Chaos on an almost daily basis. If she catches a rare, neutral expression on him, then she can pretend for a second that it's her Jake here with her (which, while not great, either, still makes her heart flutter, just at the thought of being close to him again). But she's counting more and more differences between them, the more they hang out, despite how well Chaos and Jake might twin. Jake's smiles make him softer all around, but Chaos' constant switches between grump and gloating highlight his edges. Not to mention the light in here and his pickiness over the food (he's implied a clone doesn't really need to eat) don't do much for his complexion or weight, so he carries more shadows, too.

And yet…those edges and shadows don't scare her. Sure, Starling brought him in once already, so she has little to fear on that front, but perhaps the real reason why she feels comfy here, around him, is that she's got his intentions figured out. There's plenty more to learn about Chaos, who still antagonizes her more than properly communicates with her, but Starling doesn't believe there's anything to fear about him. Not to mention he can actually be amusing on the rare occasion when he isn't being infuriating. Case in point—

"You think you tricked me so easily, but I've done some decent tricking myself," Chaos says one afternoon. He strolls around the perimeter of his room.

Starling strolls with him, two steps behind and to the side. She shakes her head. "I wonder if I'll regret asking, but: What 'trick' are you confessing to now?"

Chaos grins (not a smirk, for once) at her over his shoulder. "Surge and Kraniac. A, ah, certain toy was left out, and I shrank them down for a bit."

Her eyes widen. The idea of miniature villains is…almost cute? She can't help but grin, too. "Well, tiny villains would make my job a lot easier…," Starling admits, though she sends a mental apology to Jake for thinking perhaps his parents ought to stay pocket-sized.

Chaos pauses and waits for Starling to catch up beside him. He cocks his head her way. "It's not so different, hero thinking and villain thinking," he points out.

And there comes the infuriating part, in the form of his comparison. But where Starling might've glared and stomped away ages ago, she glares up at him now and smacks him in the shoulder for pouring salt in her wound. Really, she gets nowhere with this boy…!

Starling's preoccupation with Chaos is replaced with her concerns about Valor's silence the next morning when she finds a missive in her locker:

Starling—

See me at 10A.M. sharp, my office.

Yours in justice,

Captain Valor

The sourness in her stomach returns, but Starling has no valid excuse to delay the meeting or outright skip it. She wishes the meeting at least were set for the end of the day, so she has time to see Chaos…

But no. Just as with Jake and the Maddens before him, she sets aside all her thoughts of Chaos, especially recent memories. She can't give away the fact that she's as good as befriended yet another villain.

The next two hours drag on, and the tension reminds Starling of being on the run not too long ago. All eyes are on her, but at least the other heroes are obvious about it this time and it's not just some sensation that's upping her anxiety and frying her nerves.

When ten o'clock rolls around, Starling stands right outside Valor's door to knock at the exact moment the hour turns.

"Come in," Valor answers from inside.

Starling does as instructed. But now it's not just Valor himself but his office that lacks familiarity. The leather chair, the expensive desk, the red velvet on the walls—none of this luxury makes sense to her anymore for the leader of heroes who put the public first and themselves last. But, yet again, Starling keeps this opinion to herself and stands at attention before his desk.

Captain Valor's smile isn't toothy today. In fact, he barely musters one at all as he leans back in his chair. "Starling, Starling, Starling…"

"Sir?"

He sighs. "I've an update for you."

She blinks. Shouldn't she be updating him? "You do?"

Valor nods and leans forward, hunched over his desk. "The League's attitude has changed."

She should've figured.

"We want something to show for your efforts, Starling."

She furrows her brow. "Captain Valor, I'm—"

"I know. I've seen the visitor's logs. And the security footage from the holding cell corridors. I know you've gone as often as possible." The remaining kindness ebbs from his posture. "But, Starling, we want some real, actionable information or else."

The hands on the antique clock hanging on the wall to her right echo in the room, the sounds bouncing around in her head.

Or else.

Heroes or villains—no one says "or else" without meaning it.

And Starling fears that it'll be worse than just losing her gear this time.

She stares, unable to hide her fright when she meets Valor's eyes.

But he tears his gaze away nonchalantly, and that promptly ends the conversation.

She skips meeting Chaos that same day. It's one thing to don a façade for her fans—that's half the gig, playing the hero—but she hasn't figured out how to handle this twist. She needs time to think.

Even when her boots lead her down the familiar path to a certain, bolted door the following day, still Starling's mind churns with a million ideas. Have Chaos confess the truth? No, that puts everyone in jeopardy… Have Chaos work with her to make up some feasible lies about the Maddens? Maybe, but that'll only buy more time, because the heroes will act on the info sooner rather than later…

The gears in her head whir, rotating so fast that she wishes she had enough stamina and strength to pause time indefinitely while she sorts this out. Instead, her thought processes come to a halt when she steps inside Chaos' cell and sees his familiar smirk.

"Hey," he says, sitting on his cot with his elbows on his knees, all cocky as he gets to his feet and meets her partway. His smirk falls, though, and he quirks an eyebrow when she doesn't immediately respond. "Star?"

"Oh, uh. Hey." She briefly holds her head, willing herself to snap out of this daze. Her eyes downward, she spies his half-eaten food. "…you ate the entire sandwich today."

Chaos shrugs. "Tried something new. Wasn't that great. But prison gets a little boring at some point."

His direct, dark humor brings a tiny smile to her lips, and Starling finally takes a breath…maybe releasing the one she's been holding since yesterday.

But her relief doesn't last long when footsteps in the hallway draw near, three sets. She and Chaos turn when they stop outside his door, and the bolts slid free once more. The door opens, and in walk Captain Valor and two other heroes barely older than Starling herself, Jacque Frost and Kilometer.

Starling openly frowns at Valor. "Sir, what is—?"

"—the meaning of this?" he finishes. He gestures for Frost and Kilometer to flank Starling and Chaos. "You're a smart girl, Starling. I thought you would've grasped this right away." He nods, as though he's resigned to this duplicity because she forced his hand. "I thought about threatening you sooner, but then it came to me: If this rabid young villain who hates everyone else except his family and the hero he loves learned of the threat against you, then maybe I'd finally see results."

The way these other heroes whom she barely knows linger so near sets Starling on edge. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpses Chaos' hardened expression; he's not happy either. But she still has enough time to diffuse this situation, especially because it doesn't make sense, not without the real Jake Madden here. So Starling slaps on a commercial, winning smile and shakes her head. "Sir, that might've been the case, ages ago. But I come here and talk his ear off. Chaos here cares nothing for me."

And that's the truth. After all, he's a clone. It's not as if Kraniac could've made him with feelings and morals, same as her and Jake and (she still hoped) Valor.

Starling looks up at Chaos even, to prove her point, because she knows his mannerisms and expects him to shrug this off. Jake Madden has her heart, but Chaos could never care for her, even if he gets on passably with Starling.

Yet…Chaos' glare could slice stone and steel, not to mention Valor, given the intensity of it, aimed at the crimson hero. "Do not," he growls at Valor, "hurt Starling." And, though he's got bracelets that match the anklets to help dampen his powers, his fists curl at his sides.

The gears in Starling's brain churn anew but with different questions to solve now, because—

Jake Madden has her heart.

But Chaos could never care for her…right?

Valor's famous smile is a dark smirk today as he throws up two fingers, throwing them left and right, signaling Jacque Frost and Kilometer to grab hold of Starling. They pull her away from Chaos, but Valor offers the clone a deal. "If you don't want to see her hurt, then tell us everything about your family and what they're getting up to."

His knuckles blanch, his fists are so tight. But Chaos grits his teeth. "I don't know anything," he says truthfully.

If only Starling could back up him without jeopardizing them all (if only she might be believed if she told the truth)!

Valor shakes his head. "We have our ways of making you talk, Chaos."

Starling's stomach sinks. Heroes don't make that threat.

Chaos scowls at the lead hero. "I'd like to see you try."

With a sigh, Valor holds a hand out, and the younger heroes shove Starling into his grasp, freeing them up to have a go at Chaos. And all Starling can do is muffle her panic and learn the depth of Jacque Frost's ice powers and Kilometer's super speed.

The interior of a holding cell is not meant for showdowns. But Chaos holds his own against every chunk of ice Frost throws at him, smashing through each chilly blast left and right. Frost's powers must come from an outside source, because each blast depletes his coloring and strength until he can no longer fight, and Chaos ignores him for the speedster.

Kilometer is a trickier opponent. His movements are too fast; he's barely more than a purple blur to Starling's eyes, but Valor keeps her hands locked apart behind her back, in case she wishes to aid Chaos with a time-freezing spell. And she does want to help, especially when Kilometer closes in on Chaos and gets several sharp jabs in at his middle.

Chaos crumples, bending over in pain. But he appears to use his pain to fuel his fury, because he tosses the mattress from the cot and yanks the frame up free from its bolts, almost as if he wears no power dampeners at all. Then he swings the frame around in a wide arc, and Kilometer can't dodge the hit in the ten-by-ten space. He's out like a light, for the night and possibly for the week.

With both heroes down, Chaos drops the cot frame and stares Valor down. Chaos holds his middle tenderly, but he's still on both feet, just breathing somewhat raggedly.

Starling's eyes dart from him to the frame and back. The revelation that the power dampeners are essentially useless on him… Does that give him away? Or will the heroes just believe they underestimated Jake Madden instead? She peeks up at Valor.

Valor clenches his teeth. His grip tightens, painfully enough to make Starling's eyes water. "We'll consider this a draw…for now."

Chaos snarls at him.

"But keep in mind: I have what you hold dear. Until next time, Chaos."

Jacque Frost scoots around Chaos carefully and pries Kilometer from the floor, so they limp out of the holding cell on the former's ability alone. Valor follows, dragging Starling along with him.

But Starling looks back before the door swings shut, and she witnesses Chaos' fury as he stares at the floor with trembling fists. Her heart thuds in her chest, and a new mix of emotions sprouts in her chest.

She and the other heroes barely make it to the end of the hallway when the deafening BOOM of Chaos' super-powered punch hits the inside of his cell door. But the din ends there, for the door works in the way the dampeners do not against Chaos, and it holds.

WELL. Compared to my previous Clonelings, which were more like musings/clearing my throat, this dove deeper into their potential bond…and also how being a hero can be just as gray an area as being a villain. *eyeing Valor and his dubious tactics* I love little inclusions/hints of growing closeness/fondness, so that was fun to include here. But I don't think Starling should've been so surprised by Chaos caring for her in some form, and perhaps, deep down, she realizes this. But, hmm, where to go now… Idk if I'd do a sequel in particular to this one (esp since "Breaking Point" is kinda like my ideal for their future, *lol*), but I'm deffo still thinking lots about them. Anywho! Everything's just speculative until we have s2 anyway. XD And ofc all non-familiar names are OCs; mildly tempted to draw Lumina, Jacque Frost, and Kilometer, if not make a post about them and Lady Nox. Would totally use them again. :3c

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

#vovv #villains of valley view #cloneling #starling (vovv)#jake's evil clone #fanfic #mew writes too much #captain valor #OCs

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munsonslove · 2 years ago

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Making Deals (part 2)

(18+ only)

(part 1) • (part 3)

summary: It’s been a week since that evening in Eddie’s trailer, and things haven’t gone further like you expected them to. That all changes when a movie theater employee hits on you while you’re out with your friends.

wordcount: 3.5k

tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, softdom!perv!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, degradation (use of whore), use of pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), jealousy, public sexual acts, fingering (f receiving), hand jobs, no use of y/n

a/n: sorry they don’t go all the way in this one, i just had this idea and really wanted to write it. there will be a part 3!!!

Last weekend you and your best friend crossed a line that you never thought you both would actually be brave enough to cross. He pushed you so close to the edge that you had no choice but to give into your desires, and you’re so glad you did. At least, would be so glad, if Eddie had finally let go of his stupid pride and just asked you to officially be his already. He hasn’t tried to go past first base since that night, which was rather disappointing seeing as you really expected things to heat up even more after such events. You were still asking for little favors from him, and he was still requesting ‘trade offs’ in return, but nothing past making out and a little feeling up over the clothes. It was extremely sexually frustrating, not to mention demoralizing. Insecurity reared its ugly head, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Eddie regretted what you two did together.

It was Saturday night, and you were sitting with your knees tucked to your chest on the front porch steps to your house, waiting for Eddie’s van to enter your line of sight. It was a warm summer night, and your friend group had made plans to see some new sci-fi thriller that just came to theaters. Not to sound too conceited, but you admittedly felt rather pretty in the outfit you picked out specifically to grab Eddie's attention. You cashed in a favor yesterday to borrow one of his Dio shirts (‘Why do you want it so bad, princess?’ ‘It’ll look so cute with the boots I just bought!’ ‘Well, you know the deal, lay down on the bed…’) and you’ve got it tucked into a little black skirt- the exact one that you’ve noticed makes his eyes wander whenever you wear it. Also, you weren’t lying, it really does go well with your new shoes.

Headlights spark up the dark night in front you, and when you look down the street you see a two-toned Chevy van driving up. Eddie stops right in the middle of the road, not bothering to pull to the side when it’s devoid of any other cars, and hops out to jog around his hood before opening the passenger side door. You make sure to blow a kiss and shoot him a ‘Thanks, handsome,’ as you slide into your seat, giggling at his wink in response.

As you both pull away from your house, he immediately goes into a rant about what happened at band practice earlier, jokingly laying into you about your absence. According to him, it doesn’t run as smoothly when Corroded Coffin’s number one fan isn’t there to cheer them on after every song. Rolling your eyes and rummaging through the glove department, you pull out something you know you’ll both like and insert it into the cassette player before turning up the volume just loud enough that you’ll still be able to hear each other talk.

He continues berating you good-naturedly, “Since you had so much better things to do than sit and look pretty in Gareth’s garage-”

“I had work!” you cut him off.

“- I’ve decided it’s time for you to go through with a little promise you made to me,” he finishes, ignoring the fact that you said anything.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you rake your brain, trying to think of what promise he’s talking about. Eddie dips his hand inside his leather jacket, reaching into one of the inner pockets and taking out some bunched up fabric. A gasp leaves you as you recognize the panties you were wearing during that night, and a vague memory flashes through your head.

(“I’m gonna stuff them in my mouth while I jerk off,” he answers shamelessly. “Then, when I’m close, I’m gonna rub them on my dick til I cum right in the crotch. Then I’m gonna make you wear them when we’re around our friends, so you can feel the dry crust whenever you walk or shift, and you’ll know that you have a little bit of me right between your legs. Just like I know you so desperately crave.”)

He tosses them to the side, not sparing you a glance as he keeps his eyes glued to the road. They land in your lap, and your hands instinctively go to cover them, your modesty overruling the common sense that he’s had them for the last week. You turn your head wildly to stare at him in shock, jaw dropped and eyes wide. He doesn’t actually expect you to do this, does he? Sure, at the time it was a sexy fantasy and it brought you closer to orgasm, but there’s no way he’s going to make you actually go through with it…

Thinking through the moment a little more thoroughly, you can’t recall ever actually saying you would do it. “I don’t think I really promised-”

“You came, didn’t you?” he asked, interrupting your excuses.

Your face, along with the area between your legs, warms up. For as much as you’re resisting, the idea of only you and Eddie knowing that you’re wearing a pair of panties he made you cum in- and then masturbated with- is really turning you on. You accept his challenge, and throw the dirty pair on the dashboard before unbuckling your seatbelt. Eddie finally looks over and watches as your hands disappear under the hem of your skirt, and the forced nonchalant expression he’s attempting (and failing) urges you on with the confidence it brings you. Your fingertips hook under the lace of your current underwear, and your butt loses contact with the seat cushion as you glide the garment down your legs. When you sit back down to lift your feet and fully remove it, your skirt rides up. Velvet brushes your bare center, and embarrassment floods your system as you accept that there’s probably going to be a small wet patch when you leave the van. Once again opening the glove department, you stuff the delicate lace inside on top of some loose tapes and click it shut before picking back up the other panties.

Finally examining them, you can tell Eddie used them in exactly the way he said he would- maybe even multiple times. He smiles as he watches you put them on and rebuckle your seatbelt, then rests his right hand on your leg, his splayed fingers grazing your inner thigh and squeezing.

Upon leaving the car and walking into the theater side by side, you both meet up with your group of friends and start shooting the shit, ignoring the dirty glares given to you by the parents there with their children. The poster for the movie you’re about to see catches your eye and the tagline makes you laugh. ‘Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.’ Popcorn, soda, and candy is bought at the concession stand (your share paid for by Eddie, as he always insists) and you can’t help but feel the eyes of the boy behind the counter checking you out as he prepares your purchases. Eddie seems to notice this as well, as he instinctively moves to put his arm around your shoulder until he stops short, remembering that he’s holding two large plastic cups of cola. The employee holds out a bucket of popped kernels to you, and you take it from him.

“Nice shirt! I love Dio,” the boy says, grinning with lidded eyes, clearly attempting to flirt with no chagrin toward the butter stains on his uniform. He’s a little shorter than Eddie, with shoulder length curly blonde hair, clear skin, and a name tag reading ‘Brian’. Definitely the type most girls your age would go for, and you’d probably go for him too if a certain future rock star hadn’t already stolen your heart.

Said future rock star scoffs next to you. “It’s my shirt,” he says, and when you look over you see that he’s not even trying to mask his jealousy. An idea forms in your head.

“Oh, are you two…” Brian trails off, his pointer finger motioning between the both of you.

“We’re just friends,” you explain, and you can feel Eddie’s rage at that statement emitting off of him.

He shoves the drinks into Gareth’s empty hands and takes a hold on your lower back, manhandling you away and toward the theaters. Some popcorn falls out of the bag and you look over your shoulder to call out ‘thank you!’, but as you do you see Brian hurriedly scribbling something down on a napkin and hopping over the counter, jogging over to your little group. Eddie impatiently taps his foot as Jeff reads the ticket, searching for the room number, and he audibly groans when Brian catches up to you guys and clears his throat.

“Hey, I didn’t catch your name,” he says, clearly talking to you alone.

“She didn’t throw it,” Eddie deadpans with his arm still tight around your middle, glaring at the boy with a death stare rivaling Jack Torrance.

You elbow him off and introduce yourself before stepping away and motioning for Brian to follow you with a tilt of your head. He does, of course, and Eddie watches on while silently fuming. The employee seems like a sweet enough guy, and you feel slightly guilty allowing him to think that his advances are working, but you don’t let yourself feel too bad considering he’s handsome enough that he should be able to get over it fairly quickly. He tells you he doesn’t want to keep you from your friends for too long, but you were the prettiest girl he had seen all night and he just had to say something. The conversation is short, and ends with him handing you his phone number neatly scrawled in red ink on a brown napkin. Smiling at you one last time, he says goodbye then walks back behind the counter. You turn to see Eddie standing alone and glaring at him, jean vest still on but now holding his leather jacket in his hands. You pocket the number you have no intention of using and walk over, trying to keep any hint of smugness from your face. He shoves the jacket into your hold and takes your elbow in his grasp, ignoring your cries of confusion.

“Put that on, wait until fifteen minutes into the movie, then take it off and lay it on your lap,” he orders, his eyes never meeting yours.

Although his request doesn’t make any sense, you do as he says without protest. Wearing Eddie’s clothes always made you feel fuzzy inside, so you took any chance you could get. You especially love wearing his jacket, as cliche as that sounds, but rarely actually make an attempt to borrow it because you like the way it looks on him so much better.

He opens the door for you, not returning your smile as you pass by. The two of you find the guys sitting in a row toward the middle, two seats saved between Gareth and Jeff. Eddie goes first, moving past the already situated guests and making room for you. Credits role while the crowd talks, but the room quiets down as the sound of trumpets fill the air and the 20th Century Fox opening plays on the screen. The opening scenes aren’t the most thrilling for a horror flick, but you wouldn’t be able to fully engross yourself in the film anyway. You’re far too preoccupied wondering what the boy next to you’s plan is. After what is probably sooner than fifteen minutes, you slip the leather off of your shoulders and fold it in your lap. Eddie waits approximately thirty seconds, then places his hand on your thigh under the jacket.

You understand immediately what he’s plotting, and sneak a glance to Jeff on your other side. His attention is thankfully being held by the movie, but you’re not sure that you’ll be able to keep quiet and still enough to not be obvious. Fingers creep further up your leg, slipping under your skirt and teasing the delicate, sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs. A breath hitches in your throat when his pinky brushes your pussy through the fabric of your underwear, and you hear Eddie stifle a laugh next to you. He presses firmer against your slit, rubbing it up and down, already feeling it dampen with your arousal. The fact that these particular panties haven’t been washed since being soiled with his cum has you wetter than you’d like to be this early on in the process. The tug of the cotton catching on your engorged clit makes you moan, and you have to cover it with a cough.

Your panties are pushed to the side and Eddie runs the tip of his ring finger along your soaked lips, collecting your arousal. With the way you’re sitting, he can’t easily slip inside of you, so instead he starts rubbing your clit in quick circles, not giving you time to adjust. You gasp and cover your mouth, but luckily this coincided with a rather shocking and gory shot in the movie, so your reaction went unnoticed. He doesn’t let up, and keeps massaging your clit while secretly stealing glances toward you. When you return his gaze, his pupils are dilated and his lips are moist from him running his tongue over them continuously. Your toes curl and the muscles in your calf tense as the sensations threaten to peak.

You push Eddie’s jacket (and his hand) away from you as you stand to maneuver your way down the row, whispering to Jeff something about needing the restroom. There’s grumbling from behind you, and when you turn to look you see your fellow moviegoers frustratedly lifting their knees and popcorn buckets up to make room for Eddie to follow, his jacket forgotten on the sticky floor.

He jogs down the aisle to catch up to you, and his touch meets your lower back as he urges you forward toward the exit, almost pushing you in his haste. The brightness of the theater hallway has your eyes blinking to adjust, but Eddie spares no second and simply continues leading you with his hands bunching up the fabric of the shirt you borrowed from him. He walks you past the bathroom doors, and out through an emergency fire exit at the end of the hall. It leads to the back of the building, which faces the woods and has a small parking lot that is currently devoid of cars. Outside, the air is humid and heavy, not only due to the density but also anticipation. The only light source is a flickering bulb by the doorframe, along with the dim glow from the waning moon. From the evidence of all the cigarette butts littered on the dirt it would seem that this area is only used for employee’s smoke breaks, granting you the peace of mind that the two of you have at least some semblance of privacy.

Suddenly, you’re pushed up against the wall. The thin fabric on your back does nothing to protect you from the harshness of the bricks beneath, and the rough texture digs into your skin uncomfortably. It’s difficult to care about this, however, when Eddie has your head cradled in his hand, the other on the dip of your waist, and is kissing you deeply. His lips are not gentle on yours, he’s pressing them to you firmly and with passion, and you instantly melt against him. Your arms wrap around his neck, your hands tangled in his wild hair and you hold onto him as if you’re afraid of him floating away. His tongue forces your lips open and enters your mouth, and you feel it vibrating as he moans into you.

“You thought you could just make me jealous and I wouldn’t do anything about it, princess?” he asks as he pulls away, only to yank the t-shirt you’re wearing as far down as he can and start attacking your collarbone with his teeth. “Thought I wouldn’t know what little game you were playing? I wouldn’t know that you were trying to rile me up?”

The wetness in your panties and the ache in your belly is growing more uncomfortable with every passing moment. “Eds, please, I need you,” you whine, trying your best to grind down on Eddie’s thigh.

“Oh, I know you do, sweetheart,” he replies, hiking up your skirt and forcing your panties to one side.

His middle and index finger plunge into you easily thanks to the previous (and humiliatingly public) foreplay. Your hips start bucking against his movements, desperately searching for your release. Wanting to return the favor, your hand falls from his shoulder down his front, until it reaches his jean’s zipper. You unbutton them and pull his hardening cock out, quickly wrapping your fist around it and pumping with a rhythm matching his own. It’s warm and thick, and your mind races at the thought of it inside you, his girth stretching you out and feeling so right. His forehead buries into your neck as he groans out in relief.

“Eddie,” you moan wantonly, “that feels so good…” You can’t believe this is happening here, in the dark behind your local theater, while your friends are probably concerned and curious as to where you two ran off to.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asked, his hold on you unrelenting, “To be treated like a whore? To be treated like my whore?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp out as he hits your g-spot. He must realize this as well, as he smirks and angles his hand to hit that same spot over and over again.

“Just tell me the truth,” he says, “Tell me you wanted this.”

“F- fuck, Eddie!” you whine. His fingers are now fucking in and out of you with no mercy, and your hand on his cock can barely keep up. “I- I wanted this, okay? I wanted this.”

He smiles sweetly at you. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, then kisses you softly.

Your climax crashes over you in waves, too quickly for you to even give warning. His lips continue moving against yours throughout it, even when your jaw drops and you can’t quite return the kiss fully. You feel a wet warmth hit the front of your thighs, different from the one in between them, and with Eddie grunting into your mouth you realize he’s cumming on you. While it wasn’t the first time you’ve witnessed him orgasm (he came in his pants a couple of times when your make out sessions escalated into dry humping), it was the first time his seed actually ever made contact with your skin. The feeling of him dripping down your leg and over your knee only prolongs your own orgasm, and with his fingers still massaging that spongy spot inside you it soon becomes too much to bear. Tears well up in your eyes as you try to quiet your screams of pleasure, worried about a worker inside hearing and coming to investigate.

There’s no protest from him when you let go of his softening cock and push him away from your center, too sensitive to go any longer. Instead, he eagerly assists in removing his hand and pulls away from the kiss to suck his middle and index finger into his mouth, making the most obscene slurping noise you’ve ever heard. You watch as his eyes roll back in his head and his hand on your back curls into a tight fist, his nails scratching you along the way. He moans loud and deep, and without thinking you swipe some of the semen left on your leg up with your thumb and pop that into your own mouth, desperately wanting to join him in this gratification. The salty sweet taste has your knees buckling, and you would have fallen if not for his hold on you.

“Fuck, baby,” he whimpers around his fingers before taking them out and wrapping his arm around you, pulling you tighter against him. “You taste so fucking good. You already tasted amazing when I was sucking on your panties, but it’s so much better from the source.”

The ridiculousness of that sentence breaks you from your post-orgasmic trance and you laugh as you shove him off of you. He stumbles back, laughing with you.

“I don’t know if you’ll want to sit through the rest of the movie. Maybe we should leave and go to my place?” he suggests, eyeing you up and down with a smirk.

“Oh?” you say, grinning wide while you think about what he’s insinuating.

“Well, I just don’t think you’ll wanna be seen like… that,” he clarifies, pointing to your skirt.

When you look down, you realize Eddie dirtied your black skirt when he finished on you. He laughs and your face flushes as you try to cover the embarrassing stains with your hands.

“Head back to the van,” he says, tossing the keys your way. You catch them midair as he continues, “I’m gonna go grab my jacket and tell the guys you were feeling sick or something.”

“Sounds good,” you nod, giving him one last quick kiss before he opens the door and leaves you alone. Making your way around the side of the building to the front parking lot, you anxiously mentally prepare for what’s in store later tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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larentsaloud · 3 years ago

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Please make a post for Thyme clothes for EP8. Was he going to wear those yellow long shorts and boots (?) to school?

He looked so endearing this week...so different in body language from EP1 Thyme. In EP1 is was so wound up and ready to pounce.

your wish is my command anon.

as we have established before, the tiger print is a metaphor for the ‘old thyme’ the one who hoards power and prestige. when thyme is going through a transition phase, you see him quite literally wear the tiger shirt with donuts, or tiger shirt with bananas.

none of this is done by a mistake, but is a direct reference to his emotional state. you can tell how thyme is feeling by the way he dresses. soft pink / colourful thyme is happy thyme.

during the bus scene, when he wore the yellow banana tiger shirt, yellow being symbol of jealousy and bananas are literally a way to describe a mad person in some countries, perfectly summaries him emotional state.

I have seen other’s discus this theory and I have made this connection very early on, so I am glad others are finally appreciating the metaphors and symbolism this show is making. I discussed it here briefly x

ok now that we got THAT out of the way. let’s get it. in no particular order:

1. Delulu Thyme™️ I’m On A Boat Outfit

I love this on hiiiiiimmm! he looks happy and carefree, the blue collar and hem accentuate the nautical theme. I am not convinced about the shorts, only because we got insufficient leg content this episode. I need more LEGS. MORE is MORE. gimme. 8/10 because it looks psychedelic and has anchors. I dig it. I love how pious he is with the buttoned up collar. does it not open? no? are you suuuureeee?

2. Lost Lil’ Tiger Looking For Owner Outfits

LOOK AT THAT FLUFF, it’s also purple and would snuggle. 10/10.

meow? lemme in? what is this print? I don't mind it. has a 70s disco retro vibe, like when you fall out of the club onto the pavement and chunder all the way home unable to get an uber, the only difference being that this lost kitty has found his way home, but owner not replying. 7/10 because I will cry?

I can’t believe this is what my parents had to do before mobile phones. they had to GO places and ASK people questions. abhorrent. kudos to kitty tiger for trying so hard. naw. what is he wearing tho? OH IT’S ONLY PURPLE METALLICA CREW NECK. THIS IS FINE. I WILL NOT HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN. SAID NO ONE EVER. I AM FULLY UNHINGED. I WANT THIS SO BAD. 15/10.

3. WAR PATH THYME UNLOCKED VER 1.0

IT’S THE SWAG FOR ME. IT’S BLACK AND HAS STUFF ON IT. I DON’T CARE. IT’S PERFECT WAR SHIRT. ALEXA PLAY war on drugs I don't live here anymore. argh. I am screaming because this is the first time he stands up to her BIG TIME. this is the correct fashun to wear when unlocking a new war path. we approve. do I need to rate it? its priceless.

4. THE ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE NEIGHBOUR OUTFIT FT GETTING BEATEN BY MY GIRLFRIEND (AGAIN)

listen, there are few things I will never understand. and one of them would be white socks in black shoes. they stain and stop being white. just why? I know rich people can afford to throw socks away after one use, but what is this? it looks like Versace outfit and I absolutely cannot stand Gucci, Versace or Prada. it’s epitome of ugly fashion made for people who like to flash it. I’m more of a Dior / Chanel girl. I like elegance and style, something demure and long lasting. stylish. that you can fawn over quietly(ISH) but hey. back to thyme. this whole scene took me out. he learnt her moves, but he wasn't expecting to get punched. this outfit is a no from me? in terms of where it stands on the tiger vs happy thyme scale? I would say he is changing, so this is the in-between outfit. like when you walk in the new neighbourhood wearing designer gear, unaware of the fact you will be an eye sore. -5/ 10

5. TAMING THYME AKA DOMESTIC LIL TIGER 🐯

IT TAKES A WHOLE VILLAGE GORYA TO RAISE A THYME. I CANNOT RATE THIS. THIS OUTFIT OWNS MY HEART AND I WILL NOT TAKE ANY CRITICISM.

6. RAMEN THYME I REPEAT RAMEN THYME THIS IS NOT A DRILL

look even he has hard time believing that his sister just praised him for moving in next door. this outfit is S O F T boyfie vibe, ideal for inviting your friends over and making some. ramen no innuendoes thank you. I love the whole vibe, the nirvana like smiley and pink detail. again we get pink and yellow just saying. minus the trousers. and the Versace sliders. 7.5/10

ok I take that back. I have just seen with my own eyes the whole top and thyme? baby? is that a girl spinning the sun / smiley face / her mood with her legs while laying down on the back? who designed this, I need a word.

7. BOYFRIEND THYME IN THE HAUUUUSSSS OUTFIT

WILL I CALM DOWN? ARE YOU CRAZY? HOW CAN YOU CONTEMPLATE ASKING ME THAT. THYME IS BEING A BRO TO HSI GF’S BRO. CAN YOU GET THE TISSUES READY? WHERE THE HELL IS REN’S HANKIE I NEED THAT RAG TO WIPE MY MASCARA. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS. IT’S BRIGHT YELLOW AND I CAN SEE HIS LEGS. I AM HAPPY. LEAVE ME ALONE. HIS FACE??? GOODBYE. OK PRADA YOU HAVE ME ON CHOKEHOLD. I RESPECT YOUR DENIM. THE HELL AM I GONNA DO???

TO RECAP. I AM A SLUT FOR THIS OUTFIT. THEY ARE SO DOMESTIC TOGETHER HERE. MADE THEM BREAKFAST, SHE LEANS OVER HIM AND PLACES HER HAND ON HIS BACK TO PUT HER SHOES ON. HOW CAN ONE NOT BE BESOTTED? ASKING FOR A FRIEND. 9281282983219 /10

HE DID GET BEATEN IN THAT OUTFIT, TOO BUT THAT’S HOW OUR COUPLE CHRISTENS ANY NEW LAWK.

8. LIL’ BIRTHDAY TIGER AKA THE SOFTEST NICEST CUTEST BOI TO EVER EXIST FT A HEADBAND

DID ANYONE SAY PRAISE? I THINK OUR KITTY MIGHT BE REQUIRING SOME. LOOK AT HIM GETTING IT. WHAT A HAPPY OCCASION.

THIS WHOLE LEWK IS SENDING THE F4 NATION FERAL. AS WE KNEW IT WOULD. FOR STARTERS WE HAVE A HEADBAND. A HEADBAND. LORD HAS BLESSED US. AND THE ADDITIONAL CRACK OF HIM WEARING WHO ANT SOT BE A MILLIONAIRE SHIRT FORM EHR BROTHER. I TOLD YOU THIS WEEK IT WOULD BE FROM FAM NOT KAVIN OR REN. LMAO. LISTEN TO ME WILL YA. ANYGAYS. THIS IS PEAK DEVASTATION. ANON. WHAT HAVE YOU MADE ME DO. CAN’T SCORE THIS WITHOUT WRITING AN ESSAY. I LOVE TOO MUCH. SIGH.

9. EXPLOSIVE OVARIES SYNDROME ACTIVATED OUTFIT

I REFUSE TO COMMENT. NAAAH. UHM. NAAAW.

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER WITH ABSOLUTE DEVOTION I WILL CLIMB MY CEILING.

IS THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR?

YOU HAVE SENT ME DOWN A SPIRAL AND I ENDED WITH TUX THYME WHICH LEADS TO MANIA.

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heyhihellowhatsup0 · 4 years ago

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Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter One (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

Prologue

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 4155

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N: I have been dying to post more so the day is finally here! I am so happy everyone has given my such amazing and sweet feedback! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Needless to say, this chapter does have smut! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

You woke up the next morning with your head pounding while the sun hit your eyes as you opened them. Turning on your back you let out a sigh once you realized where you were. The same bed you figured you would be in even though you were hoping it was all a dream and what had happened didn’t actually take place.

Remaining underneath Tom’s dark and satin sheets since you knew you had nothing on, you pivoted your head upward and saw his eyes opened and staring up at the ceiling. Clearly, neither one of you had any idea how to address what the hell happened between the two of you last night and you certainly weren’t going to be the one to initiate.

Tom licked his lips as he adjusted himself from under the covers. Did he really just sleep with you? Sure, he thought about having that moment with you. Countless times, actually. It was no secret you were breathtakingly beautiful and he always had that fantasy about you. But you were always dating that idiot for whatever reason and Tom always thought you were never into him in that way.

None of it was planned, of course. It just happened. One minute, you were both drinking and just simply there next to each other. The next, Tom and you were stumbling into his bedroom. Laughing in between kisses as you removed one another’s clothes and experiencing what was probably some of the best sex he’d ever had. His entire body was vibrating still from how he had felt and he never in a million years would have even thought you were the least bit interested in him like that. Then again, you were both clearly going through some really weird stuff last night.

You were both vulnerable and feeling things you didn’t want to admit to other people but for some reason, Tom was alright with admitting it to you and you both found a way to get rid of the feeling, even if it was temporary. He didn’t want you to regret it, because he sure as hell didn’t. He certainly wasn’t expecting any of that with you but it was a hell of a night and he was far from complaining about it. He was just worried you regretted it.

A lot could be said in your silence with Tom as you lay there, the both of you now staring up at the ceiling and neither of you were speaking. You couldn’t help but feel a little awkward while you tried to figure out what to say. Do you just thank him for the night and leave? Should you just say you had work and grab your clothes or just maybe not say anything at all? The silence was killing you for a variety of reasons and you were still trying to rack your brain trying to figure out why you initiated the first kiss to begin with. You weren’t drunk at all but for some reason you just wanted it. You wanted him. And in that moment last night, you were glad he wanted you too.

Tom cleared his throat, the stillness between you both was causing a rise in his anxiousness, “Well...we had sex last night,” he stated the obvious as plainly as possible. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut.

“Yeah,” you answered in an obvious tone. You held back from your laughter as you pushed your hair out of your face, “I should probably go,” you told him as you tried to cover yourself up with the sheets even though you already knew Tom saw you naked last night. There were no more secrets between you both. Clearly.

Tom sat up from the bed and began looking for his sweatpants to throw on before he started to help you find your clothes across the bedroom floor. He handed you your t-shirt as he politely turned away while you changed, “Do you want coffee or something?” he offered, something he would never offer another girl who stayed the night.

Offering any girl any type of breakfast or anything of the sort automatically made them believe Tom wanted them to stay longer. To go out on a date or to get a phone call from him later. Commitment. So he always avoided it and usually had you kick them out if they couldn’t get the hint. But obviously you were different being that you were a friend who he just so happened to sleep with. He was grateful you were there with him and he’d never dismiss you as quickly. He cared about you in the same ways you cared about him. Neighborly love. Who he happened to be attracted to and vice versa.

“Nah, I’m okay. I have some back at my place,” you answered casually as you grabbed your leggings as Tom handed you one of your shoes, “Thanks,” you said to him with a small smile as you tried not to act like you were rushing out of there.

You tried to make yourself presentable as Tom began to walk you out of the bedroom, unsure if he should thank you for the night or not. You turned to him with a sarcastic smile and pointed towards your messy waves, “Wow, I guess this officially makes me a notch on your belt, huh?” you tried to joke to make it less weird between you two.

“For the record, you are not a notch or anything like that, Y/N,” Tom said sternly to make sure you knew that last night was actually a night he didn’t regret at all, “I uh...actually had a pretty good time,” he felt his cheeks tinge a hint of pink as he admitted that to you. Another thing he knew to never say to a girl he brought home. Ever.

Making a face at him, you breathed out a small laugh while you nodded your head in agreement, “Yeah, I did too,” you told him honestly.

The two of you just stood in the kitchen by Tom’s door for a minute. Waiting for the other person to say something but neither of you did. You rocked back and forth on your heels as Tom slid his hands into his pockets, “This isn't weird, is it?” you questioned in a light tone.

“What? No!?” Tom chuckled nervously. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in an attempt to be nonchalant while the elephant of the deed you two had done remained between you both, “Wh-why-why would it be weird?” he stammered.

Leaning in a bit closer towards him, you narrowed your eyes in on Tom, “We had sex,” you whispered as if somebody else was in the room and could overhear your entire conversation.

Tom copied your motion and leaned in in the exact same way, “I don’t think it’s a secret now,” he teased you with a playful smirk, making you laugh as he pulled away. He gave you a nudge against your shoulder, “It’s only weird if we make it weird, right?” he reminded himself.

Lots of friends sleep together and continue to be friends. This was nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, you were more neighborly than friends. So it was a completely different situation than what typical friends had dealt with in the past. Tom was right, you reminded yourself.

“No weirdness on my end,” you told him with a smile as you held out your palm as if you were swearing in a courtroom, “Promise,” you added with a playful wink.

Tom smiled back, leaning forward to get the door for you but you accidentally mistook his gesture for a hug and wrapped your arm around his neck. You cussed under your breath at your embarrassingly stupid moment while you apologized profusely to Tom as he tried to save the awkwardness by giving you a half-assed hug in return. You tried to hide the wincing your eyes were making from the hug but you knew he noticed. Of course he noticed.

Looking down at the floor because you were now too embarrassed to look in his direction, you said your goodbyes as Tom promised to swing by this week with his usual pizza while you began walking faster towards your apartment. But you didn’t want Tom to think you were that flustered by your interactions that you quite literally ran away to hide out.

You finally got inside your door and realized everything remained untouched since you had kicked Justin out last night. The bottle of wine was still open and sitting on the counter, the television was still on in the living room and there were still a bunch of clothes he had left behind that you needed to desperately get rid of.

Everything in your apartment remained frozen in time while you felt like you jumped lightyears ahead of it from your one night spent with Tom. It was a strange feeling as you walked over to turn the television off but you didn’t feel angry like you had felt last night. You weren’t exactly over the events that took place with Justin but you were on the path to accepting it and you weren’t sure if Tom had something to do with it or not.

There was no denying that you were still hurting from everything. It was still a fresh wound and you had felt so betrayed from it all, you weren’t sure how you would bounce back from it or if you even would. You never dealt with a breakup as ugly as this one so it was a new feeling for you that you were still trying to wrap your head around.

And even though when you were with Tom for the brief time that you were, it felt like it was almost exactly what you needed last night. You didn’t hold back from him and you were comfortable enough around Tom telling him exactly what you needed. Letting your frustrations and anger out on him and Tom letting his feelings out on you led to an explosion between the two of you that surprisingly left you possibly wanting more.

Wanting more from Tom.

Changing into a fresh outfit from last night, you continued to replay the night over and over again in your mind. It was unexpected to say the least, but not in a bad way. Not by any means. If you thought it was bad or awkward, you probably wouldn’t be standing in front of your closet still thinking about the things Tom made you feel.

He made you forget about the drama, if even for one night. But he still managed to make you think that you didn’t need Justin anymore. Maybe you didn’t need anyone right now other than a simple fix here and there to make you feel good. Maybe something without any strings attached was what you needed right now in order to move on and numb your pain for a bit.

You knew Tom was dealing with his own commitment issues and neither one of you were looking for anything complicated. It may not be the best idea in the world to be thinking about something like this but clearly neither one of you knew how to be alone at the moment. You didn’t really want to be fully alone anyway, and you were both comfortable enough with each other where you could be honest about this stuff. Maybe Tom was right, there shouldn’t be any weirdness between you.

Maybe some great sex and not an ounce of attachment was the elixir to the chaos Justin caused for you. No formalities. No planned out, stuffy dates. No mingling with friends and their significant others. No justin. And certainly no types of feelings that would get you in a mess you clearly weren’t looking for right now.

Just good fucking sex. And...it didn’t hurt that your neighbor might be looking for the same type of thing that you were. At least you had hoped.

And when the thoughts and memories and god, downright blissful remembrances of his touch kept invading your mind, just standing there in your apartment thinking about it wasn’t enough. The anxiousness vibrated through your body and you knew what you might be needing from down the hall.

You pulled on a new t-shirt before grabbing your keys. You had never done anything like this before, what if Tom said no? Maybe it should just remain a one time thing between the two of you. Your nerves were attacking you relentlessly as you locked your door, slipping your key ring around your finger and securing it tightly.

But if Tom could do things like this, what was stopping you? The pure rush of anxiety and adrenaline...but it was stupidly guiding you right back to his door. This was insane. Completely stupid. He’d never agree to this.

Your mind was telling you to turn around and go back home. But that side of you that you never let come out was saying ‘fuck it. Have some fun for once. You’ve been through enough heartbreak and this is something for you.

The safe way got you hurt. More than once. And as you lifted your hand to tap your knuckles against the door, you knew you were done playing it smart.

Barely getting through the first knock, the door swung open. You let out a yelp as you practically hit Tom in the face while he almost walked right into you. The two of you running into each other as your bodies slightly crashed into one another.

“Oh shit!” Tom exclaimed as he pulled back with an awkward laugh. He ran a hand through his still messy curls, “I was actually on my way to see you,” he admitted, pressing his lips together as he looked at you in the doorframe.

You reached up and crashed your lips against Tom’s without warning, “Let’s make a deal,” you told him through your hungry kiss as you began to feel Tom start to kiss you back. He moaned into you as he captured your top lip in between his.

“W-what?” Tom mumbled against your lips once again, bringing you inside of his place as he kicked the door shut. He was surprised this was happening so suddenly. Especially since he was just about to be on his way over to your place to ask you for just about the same thing. He knew it didn’t feel right when you left this morning and it was because he wanted to feel this way again. With you.

“I can still help with your horrible conquests but...in the meantime, we make up for our shit love lives with damn good sex,” you explained while catching your breath from your last kiss. You stood in the living room with Tom’s hands resting on your hips with lust for you in his eyes.

He pulled back from his embrace with a quirked brow, “You’re serious,” he noted as he smirked at you. He was honestly surprised considering he never saw this side to you. You were always with the same guy for as long as you lived here. It was strange and new to him to see you wanting something that he did.

“No strings attached, of course,” you added. The words sounded ridiculous but you ignored that thought.

“I...christ, Y/N. I can’t say I haven’t thought about having endless mindblowing sex with you,” he said as his eyes rolled over you.

“Mindblowing?” you chuckled, “Someone’s cocky,” you teased.

“Rude. But back to the point...are you sure about this?” Tom got serious. His focus on you as he stepped back to give you some space. He didn’t want to be overbearing or act like he was trying to just get you back in bed. Even though that was basically what he was doing regardless of the situation.

The bottom line was, he had an amazing time with you. And unlike the random girls he brought home, you knew him. There was an understanding between you and him that he knew you got. And he could be open with you by saying he didn’t want anything serious. He wouldn’t need to find a way to get rid of you in the morning. He could distract himself from the nonsense he would think about while ravishing you in the process. It was the perfect idea.

You took a moment. Wondering again if you were just crazy to suggest this. But the way his brown eyes were studying you, it just felt right.

“I’m sure if you are,” you finally answered.

Tom was silent but it didn’t take him long to make his mind up. Taking a few steps forward, he picked you up in one swift motion and brought you over towards the couch where you straddled his hips before going in for another kiss. His hand was already slipping underneath your shirt and up your back as he helped you remove it along with his, tossing it towards the empty side of the couch you weren’t using.

Helping you out of your leggings, you found your way back towards Tom’s lap and grinded your hips against him in between your kisses. The cravings you both shared for one another grew wilder as you continued, “We’re really doing this?” you muttered against his lips with another gasp as you helped release him out of his already bulging boxers.

“Think so,” Tom laughed against your skin, trailing his lips down to your neck as he pushed your hair to one side, “Unless you want to stop?” he pulled back for a minute, not wanting to overstep if you were having second thoughts.

Biting your bottom lip, your hand went down to Tom’s hardened length and ran along it. Rubbing the pre-cum seeping from his tip as you watched Tom throw his head back against the couch with a low moan, “Does it look like I want to stop?” you asked him with a playful grin.

“Fuck, Y/N…” Tom hissed as his hands gripped your sides to release some of his frustration. He breathed out a laugh as his fingers went to your clit, beginning to circle you slowly, “Let me give you what you came here for. Hm, darling?” his voice grew raspy as he looked you in the eye, his pupils black the longer he waited.

Your eyes went down towards Tom’s waist, gasping as you watched him begin to tease your entrance with his tip. Cussing under your breath, you grabbed onto his shoulders tightly as you braced yourself for his impact. Tom pressed his hand against the small of your back as he waited for you to let him know it was okay. You nodded your head silently as you gave him an amorous look, “I want you, Tom,” you whispered lowly.

That was all it took before Tom guided himself into you. Going slow as he took his time to let you get used to him while you clenched around him. You lowered yourself deeper as he filled your core up entirely while you began to roll your hips against his slowly, letting out a moan as Tom hissed against your ear while twitching inside of you.

“Mmm, Y/N,” Tom breathed out a moan as he matched his thrusts with yours. His lips parted, moaning against your neck while he pressed open, sloppy kisses against your skin as he continued to rub your clit with his opposite hand, “You feel so fucking wet,” he praised you breathlessly.

“Keep touching me, Tom,” you cried out to him while you started to ride him faster. Even though you and Tom had just started these escapades, you certainly felt comfortable enough to tell him exactly what you wanted to make you feel good. Pressing the pad of his thumb against your swollen bud, your eyes clenched shut while you pushed yourself deeper into him, “Shit! Yes, right there,” you reassured him with another moan.

Guiding you down on his cock, Tom felt his entire body tense as soon as his lips met yours once again. His breaths getting heavy like yours as your name fell from his lips while he watched you bounce up and down on him, making him feel absolutely incredible as you continued to moan in his ear.

You felt your body beginning to tense as you kept going. Everything inside of you was aching for a release and Tom was giving it to you without a doubt. Rocking your hips into him more, you knew you were getting closer to your edge and you could feel Tom about to release as well.

Opening your eyes, you cupped Tom’s face with your palms and gave him one last fiery kiss. Your tongues finding each other wildly and tangled up before you both finally reached your highs together as you whimpered Tom’s name while you finally let go for him.

Tom cussed as he unraveled from beneath you. His body writhing while he watched you bury your face into the crook of his neck, muffling the sound of your moans against him. The vibrations from your sounds set him off further while he continued to reach his bliss, still thrusting into you while you rode out your tremor together.

“Holy….” Tom trailed off with a heavy breath, finally slowing down while his back hit the couch as he tried to pull himself together. He saw you pull your face away from his body, giving him the same exact look that he knew he had on his face, “Umm...yeah, holy fuck?” he laughed.

“That just about covers it,” you agreed as you kissed his cheek with a smile. You pushed Tom’s now damp and sweaty curls out of his face to capture his lips while you brought him closer to you, “So we have a deal?” you confirmed as Tom kissed you back.

Tom chuckled as his hands fell to your sides, his thumb creating small circles against you while he pursed his lips, “You’re really serious about this? No strings? No titles? Just like...just sex?” he clarified, still trying to wrap his head around you asking for this. It felt like a godsend and that it was too good to be true. Why couldn’t more girls be like you?

Tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, Tom’s eyes went from your eyes, to your lips, and back as he sat there admiring you looking this way. You looked so effortlessly beautiful to him and even just as a friend, he was lucky to have you in his life. But now that he had you in other ways, you felt almost intoxicating to him. He couldn’t understand why that piece of garbage cheated on you. Tom had done some shady things to girls in the past and he didn’t see himself in ways others might but he knew he would have never done what that guy did.

You nodded as you turned your head to the side, “Do we have a deal, Tom?” you asked again, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Justin really did a number on you, huh?” Tom teased with a chuckle.

“We’re not talking about him,” you shushed Tom. Pressing your palm against his chest, you gave him a stern expression, “No talk about exes or...your conquests. We do this,” you gestured towards you straddling his legs before looking back at him, “Whenever we...feel like it. I guess,” even you weren’t sure of the rules but you figured you could make them your own anyway.

There was a pause as you quickly felt like you should add more, “We’re friends. Nothing more, nothing less,” you told him, wanting to be clear of at least one title throughout this whole pact the two of you were about to agree to, “Friends who...happen to jump each other’s bones?” you stated despite it sounding like a question.

Tom chuckled at your timid expression. His hands still at your sides as he leaned up and captured your lips again. “Deal.”

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#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #heyhihellowhatsup0 #HOYF

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favefandomimagines · 4 years ago

Text

With All Due Respect (e.b.)

Summary: Buck invites you to dinner with his parents as a buffer but things turns sour quickly

AN: happy vday!! enjoy a little fluff/angst with buck! xoxo

“I need you at this dinner tonight.” Buck announced as he entered your apartment. “I thought it was just you guys and Chim.” You replied. “Yes, but you’re my girlfriend, my best friend and I need you to be at this dinner tonight because it’s going to be bad.” He explained.

You didn’t really want to insert yourself in Buckley family drama, especially when you’ve nothing but bad things about his parents. You’ve had your own issues with family, your brother having had a drug problem and your divorced parents. But, it was Buck and you knew if he was asking for help, it was serious.

“Okay, I’ll be there. Only because it’s you.” You finally said. “And this is why I...I am happy you’re in my life.” Buck replied, before kissing your forehead.

You noticed the stuttering and the long pause he had after ‘I.’ Neither have you had said the ‘L’ word yet, even if you had been dating for a year. Both of you had gotten out of messy relationships with people you thought you loved and you were both scared to say it. Mainly out of fear of suffering the same fate.

You wanted to say it though. You felt it, that much was certain. But you didn’t know if he felt the same way. Or if he was even ready to say he loved you.

Later that night, you stood in front of the closet mirror, glancing over your outfit. Both Buck and Maddie had warned you that their parents were...stuffy. And you wanted to look your best since you were dating their son.

“No, this looks stupid.” You muttered, taking the shirt off and throwing it on your bed. “This is ugly, this is not cute, they’d probably hate this.” You commented on every shirt in your closet.

“What are you doing?” Buck laughed. “I own no cute clothes. Nothing that’s going to impress your parents.” You answered. “Wear that one outfit. The one we wore on our second date.” He told you. “We went to an amusement park, Buck, I don’t think that’s classy enough for dinner with the parents.” You rebutted.

“I don’t care. I love you in that outfit.” Buck said. You smiled up at him before grabbing the outfit he had recommended. “Amusement park outfit it is.” You commented.

If you could turn back time and pray for a house fire so you wouldn’t have to attend dinner, you would. Sitting at the dinner table with Buck and his family was the definition of awkward. On top of that, the not so subtly jabs they made towards Buck and his career were starting to get on your nerves.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” Buck’s dad asked. “Um, I’m an EMT.” You answered. “I was on track for med school but being an EMT is more my speed.” You added. “Also, what happened to Abby, Evan?” Mrs. Buckley asked him.

You clenched your jaw just out of sheer discomfort at first but it soon turned into annoyance. “Mom. You know what happened with Abby so please don’t bring it up. Especially in front of Y/N, that’s not fair.” Buck rebutted.

“Y/N, choosing an EMT rather than med school is an interesting choice.” Mr. Buckley commented, quickly avoiding that subject matter.

“Well, my dad and my brother are both firefighters so I’ve been around them all my life. It just, felt like the right path.” You explained. “And your brother, is he married? I know being a firefighter can be a busy job.” Mrs. Buckley asked. “He’s not married but he’s dating a police officer in Austin. He’s a great guy for him.” You answered.

“Oh, so your brother is..” Mrs. Buckley started. “Gay. My brother is gay.” You finished for her.

You could see the look on their faces when you said your brother was gay and it was look you’d grown accustomed to when talking about him to ‘unaccepting’ people. Not exactly homophobic, but people who don’t really accept those who are gay and probably never will.

“I’m rather impressed you’re able to put up with Evan. He can be a handful.” Mr. Buckley said, again, changing the subject. “Um, I guess but aren’t we all handfuls?” You responded with a nervous laugh.

Buck gripped your hand under the table and you could see that from his side profile, he was at his breaking point.

“I think we’re going to head out. We have an early shift tomorrow.” He told you.

He helped you up from your chair and as you walked towards the door, you turned around and looked at his parents.

“With all due respect, Mr and Mrs Buckley, your son is the greatest man I’ve ever met. When I was a kid, my mother told me to find a man like my father. And I did, in your son. Now, I don’t know what it is that seems to upset you about him but that clearly means you don’t know him anymore. Because if you did, you’d be incredibly proud of him,” You started.

“He’s brave, kind, honorable and I am incredibly lucky to have him in my life. I love your son and I try like hell every day to make up for the love you didn’t give him.” You finished.

The room fell silent as you made your way out of the apartment. You couldn’t believe you just outed your feelings to Buck, in front of not just him, but his parents and Chimney.

The car ride back to your place was a silent one. Buck was just trying to wrap his head around what you said. He never knew you thought so highly of him and that you actually loved him.

He figured you did but what happened in his past always made him doubt your feelings.

“I’m sorry.” You said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said anything or tried to stick up for you. You’re more than capable of doing that on your own. Your parents probably hate me.” You explained.

“I couldn’t care less about what my parents think. And I’m glad you said it. I don’t know, maybe hearing it from an outside perspective will knock some sense into them.” Buck replied.

But he never said that he loved you back, which had you fearing the worst. “And I’m sorry for saying the L word. I know you’re not ready to hear it and I didn’t know I was ready to say it until I just said it. You don’t have to say it back, I understand-” Your ranting was cut off by Buck grabbing your hand gently.

“I do love you. Hearing what you said made me realize how much I do love you. Because you didn’t have to defend me but you did. Because you love me and I don’t think that’s something Abby could ever do. Not like you.” He said.

“Really?” You questioned. “Of course. I’ve screwed up a lot of things in my life but I can’t have us being one of them. Me taking so long to say I love you when I felt it almost did that.” He explained.

You squeezed his hand as a sign that he shouldn’t worry. “So, since you love me, does that mean I can convince you to watch Bring It On with me?” You asked mischievously.

“All you had to do was ask.” Buck laughed. You laughed in response and the sound was like music to Buck’s ears.

Your laugh was always his favorite thing but now it just felt different. Being with you felt different. All because now your relationship was now solidified with just three words that were long overdue.

#imagine #imagines #911 imagine #911 fox #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley oneshot #911 lone star #oliver stark

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keefsteef · 2 years ago

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saw your rbed ask on rach's page and it got me curious soo warning era queensryche if you're still doing it?

Glad I PIQUED YOUR CURIOSITY 🥴. I'm going to address them by order of appearance because I've not much knowledge of the band and their names, so if you wouldn't mind telling me after the fact that'd be great ✨!

1. Oooookay, a two-toned pants moment. I also see he's got a fishing-net situation going on on his shoulder, and a nut-and-bolt ordeal on the vest.

The color palette? There's nothing wild going on, I like it! But the overall unity, I feel like he could've gave us more. The shirt bolts could have very well also embellished the sides of his pants, or even the waist area! Small details like that are more impactful to fashion thirsters such as myself.

That snake bracelet is totally random and can go somewhere far away, though. The wraps work well as just black, but a grey to emphasize his shoulder detailing wouldn't have killed anyone.

But the outfit does still work, it's just a bit bland to me.

2. Oh hey he's hot, but unlike the flames on his shirt alluded to, the outfit is not. I'm sorry but in comparison to what everyone else has going on, I'd swear he was a fan and not a member. It has no flare, it isn't doing anything for me.

Plus he's not coordinating omggg everyone's having a chest peak moment and he's there in a t-shirt. Without totally changing his entire look I can't really fix this as it is.

I would have gave him a vest similar to 1's with yellow lines going down the side like his pants, a yellow headband, he could keep the wrist wraps, and then possibly a some sort of dangle-necklace, those always work well when you've got your chest out.

Now this may make him look like he came right out of Stryper but 😩☠️ it'd of been cute.

3. OKAY A SINGLET-SHIRT, those and chest hair are always a happy couple, so I do like that. It also has a yellow-edge to match with 2's pants, and we're back to bolts to match with 1's vest.

I'm not feeling that mix-and match belt extravaganza. I can tell whoever did that thought it'd be extravagant, but it's out of place. A ring... And a square... And punch-holes... And diamond rhines... hahaha. Good-bye to the ringed belt, goodbye to the golden diamond rhines.

Keep the square buckle, replace the golden rhines with silver sequin, because the base of the shirt is sequin and silver bolts.

Take away whatever that extra shirt is under the main shirt, and make that glove black with yellow trim. I get he's coordinating the white with 4, but if we're talking a stand alone outfit choice, GOODBYE!

4. He's adorable first of all 🥴✨, and frankly the only thing I'm really not into about his outfit is the belt. It's tacky, I would have put him in a more glam chain-like belt made of bolts. But his outfit works in its own sense, the wrist wraps, the shirt style, everything. Maybe a white line going down the sides of the pants if you wanted to get fancy, but it really doesn't need it.

5. Not him being sexy and having a sexy outfit! It's like his outfit has all the elements I gave to everyone else's COMBINED, I LOVE THE DIRECTION OF IT!

Not digging the purple as far as coordination with his other members goes, no one else is in purple and it's making me tick. Well.... wellllll, a darker black-purple?! I just don't like the brightness of the purple, it isn't ugly but it just doesn't please me.

A darker color would've made the little yellow detailing pop more, which would have been hot. But again I do actually like the design of it, I can't get mad at it.

Anyway this has been the Queensyrche fashion show thanks for reading my judgmental nonsense 🤩✨

#asks

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sirtommyholland · 4 years ago

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Four Years of Birthdays

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn’t my first time writing for Harry but my first time actually posting it so I’m very excited! This is inspired by the little piece I wrote on Tom Holland’s birthday, I wanted to make a similar concept. Hope you guys like it, and happy birthday to our beloved baby boy Harry Styles! We love you so much!💜

Word Count: 2.4k (she tiny because I suck)

Summary: Harry’s four different birthdays with Y/N in differents points of his life.

Fluff all the way! with like a little talk about sexual themes because I had to.

poc friendly and plus size friendly (I think, please tell me if I made a mistake!) because we dont blush bright red or swim in men’s clothes in this house💫

2019 - 25th Birthday

Spending his birthday with Y/N was one of Harry’s favourite things. Over the last ten years of his life, she had missed quite a few of them as he was on the road and she was back home in London, going to uni and living a normal life. It was only the last couple of years that he was able to be home on his birthday, his solo career allowing him a bit more freedom to arrange his schedule as he wanted.

This year, he had wanted to have a quiet birthday, just with his family and close friends. And of course, his girlfriend, who was currently climbing on his back on the bed, trying to coax him out of sleep.

“Loviee” she whined into the back of his neck between kisses. “Wake up.”

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual as he groaned, trying to bury himself more into the pillows to avoid the bright sunlight in the room. “‘M sleepy.”

“But it’s your birthday.” she protested with a kiss to a small part of his cheek that wasn’t hidden away. “I need to give you your 25 kisses.”

“Just 25?” he frowned, raising his head from the pillow to look back at her. “That’s nowhere near enough! You kiss me more on a regular day.”

“Hmm..” she pretended to ponder his words, one of her hands going up to brush away the soft curls that fell on his forehead. “Then how about I give you a blowie for 25 minutes?”

Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would still be able to hear the grin in his voice. “Now that’s more like it.” He was turning over and laying on his back in a heartbeat, tugging at her thighs to make her straddle him again.

She complied, throwing one leg over his hips and gently sitting on thighs, not putting her full weight. She leaned down to softly brush her lips against his, once, twice, three times. “Happy birthday, baby.” she sighed against them, rubbing her nose against his lovingly.

“Thank you, angel.” he smiled, letting his hands roam over the soft material of her shirt. “I reckon it’s gonna be the best one so far.”

“Really? Is there a reason why?” she grinned, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Because this is the first one I’m waking up with you as my girlfriend. Finally,” he sighed. “I can kiss you for real instead of making a wish for it when I blow out the candles.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she teased with a smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. “I still can't believe you wished for it.”

“Literally every year.” he confirmed, only blushing slightly under her loving gaze. “Honestly don’t know what I’m gonna wish for this time. It’s been the same thing for many years.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She placed a final peck to his lips, then swiftly got up from his lap. “Now get up, your mum’s expecting us for breakfast.”

“But- but- my blowie!”

She looked back to see an adorable pout on his lips, one that she almost couldn’t resist. Almost.

“Later.” she promised, pulling him to his feet and laying a few kisses on his neck. “I’m gonna take care of you properly tonight, after your party. Along with your final present.”

“You’re a tease.” he breathed, the meaning behind her words not so hidden. She grinned, and trailed her hand softly down his back until she was grabbing his bum, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Heyy!” he jumped, trying to grab her before she made a run for the bathroom, and failing.

“Pick your outfit, it takes ages!” she yelled through the closed door, making him huff and fall back on the bed dramatically.

“Harry Edward Styles!” Well, guess she knew him too well.

“Yes, ma’am!”

2009 - 15th birthday

“Hello.”

Harry raised his head from the plastic cup he was refilling, to see a familiar girl looking at him with a friendly smile.

“Hi.” he smiled back as he straightened up, silently giving her the cue to go on.

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I really liked your performance. You guys were incredible!”

“Oh, thank you! Of course you’re not bothering me. I’m glad to know you liked it.” He grinned. “We’re at the same school, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never actually talked, I think. I’m Y/N, by the way. Will invited me because I live next door.” she explained, nodding towards his bandmate that was currently hosting his birthday party/small concert in his garage.

“You don’t need to explain yourself! Next time, I’ll just have to make sure that I invite you myself.”

She grinned at his words. “That’s very nice of you, Harry. Oh, and happy birthday, by the way! I almost forgot.” Right, she was at his birthday party. She already knew his name.

“Thank you! And thanks for coming.”

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the lights were dimmed and the back entrance of the garage was illuminated with a soft, orange light as his friends brought in the cake. Off-key voices singing him happy birthday filled the space, and he made his way to his friends with a huge smile on his face, Y/N joining the small crowd around him as they waited for him to blow out the candles.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” one of his mates yelled just as he was leaning towards the cake.

“Sorry.” he chuckled, then closed his eyes to make his wish. I want to make music. For all my life.

Little did he know, that would be his only wish in the next ten years that didn’t involve the girl that he had just met.

2016 - 22th birthday

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!”

“What the fuck.” he muttered into his pillow, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if his phone was actually ringing with a Taylor Swift song. But even when he was wide awake after a few minutes he could still hear her melodic voice, so he reached out with a groan and checked the caller ID. Of course.

“How did you manage to change my ringtone all the way from London?” he answered in a groggy voice.

“Well, good morning to you too, hun, took you long enough! I’m very good, thanks for asking! And I got Niall to do it yesterday, obviously.”

“... Morning Y/N.”

“Oh, stop grumbling, it doesn’t suit you. Get up and get ready, I’m gonna facetime you in thirty minutes.” And before he could say anything, she hung up on him.

He looked at this phone in disbelief. Did she just hang up on me on my birthday?! He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. To be honest, there were a lot of things he couldn’t help when it came to her.

Half an hour later, when he was freshly showered and dressed, his phone rang with an incoming facetime call just like she said. She probably set an alarm for exactly thirty minutes, he thought fondly.

Her smiling face greeted him as he accepted the call. “Happy birthday, Haz!!”

“Thanks, love.” he chuckled, eyeing the tiny cupcake in front of her through the small screen. “Whatcha got there?”

“That’s your birthday cupcake, made it myself! Was tired of shitty store-bought cake.”

“I don’t know, it looks kind of ugly.” he joked, grinning at her mock-offended face. “I could do better. I worked in a bakery, ya know.”

“You literally just ran the register and washed the dishes.”

“Still, in a bakery!”

She was shaking her head at his shit-eating grin, but he could still see a soft smile playing at her lips. It caused his heart to flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling at him like that everyday.

“Anyway, candle time!” she piped, grabbing a lighter from somewhere behind the camera and lighting up the single candle on her tiny cupcake.

Harry watched her raise the cupcake closer to the camera and she instructed him to make a wish. This routine was familiar to them now. Every year, she would video call with a different type of cake, to make up for not being able to be there with him.

Harry closed his eyes, and made the same wish that he had been making for the last six years of his life. I wish you were mine.

He opened his eyes and blew lightly towards the screen, her actions matching his as she blew out the candle in his place. She gave a little cheer afterwards, and the brightness of her eyes warmed him up all the way down to his toes, even through a phone screen.

They talked for a while after that, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing the dates they would be able to meet up again. She hung up with a final ‘happy birthday, love you!’ and then he was left staring at his phone, a small smile still remaining on his face. I wish you were mine.

And later, when he logged onto his twitter account and tweeted some certain song lyrics, he only cared about one person’s reaction out of millions.

2018 - 24th birthday

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Harry turned towards the kitchen door that led to the back garden, seeing her slide it close to make her way towards him.

“Just taking a breather, love.” he said, accepting his woolly coat that she handed him. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.” She sat next to him on the wooden porch bench, wrapped up in her own fuzzy coat. There was another item in her hand, a thick, heavy looking box.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Oh, I came here to give it to you. Your final gift.”

“Y/N.” he sighed. “The others were more than enough.”

“I don’t think this even counts as my gift, honestly.” She grinned at the puzzled look on his face. “Just open it.”

He did. Inside was a thick notebook, a scrapbook by the looks of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday Harry! - 2018’

He looked at her curiously, but she just smiled and told him to open it again. He turned to the first page, and ran his gaze across the page. His eyes widened in surprise. He quickly flipped a few pages to see that all of them had the same thing; printings. Printed screenshots from various social media platforms, of his fans wishing him a happy birthday.

“I know you don’t use social media a lot these days.” she explained as he kept reading the tweets glued onto the scrapbook. “But you were trending on Twitter today, and yesterday too, lots of people wishing you a happy birthday and telling how much they loved you. I thought you might want to see it.”

He let out a watery laugh, not being able to tear his gaze away from the book in his hands. He couldn’t help the tears, not really. She had taken the time to print out lots and lots of tweets, instagram posts, everything; she had cut them and put them in this book and added little stickers in between with colorful doodles. And she had done it to carry his fans’ messages to him, she had basically hand-delivered their gifts of love to him.

“Thank you.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat. “This is… I think this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not technically from me. I just put some tweets together, your fans are the ones who wrote them.” She paused, then added. “I just wanted you to see just how loved you are. By everyone. You have such a kind heart, and an amazing soul; all of these people are aware of it and they love you for it.” She tapped the book in his lap, emphasising her words.

“Thank you.” he repeated himself, seemingly at a loss for words. He closed the book and carefully put it back in its box, intending to read everything in it later. He placed it beside him, then turned to her and pulled her in a hug.

Her arms were around him in a second, not hesitating to tighten around him and pull him closer. She was so warm even in the cold weather, and she smelled so nice, and he wouldn’t be able to pull back if he tried. He didn’t know how long they sat there in each other's embrace, but when he felt her starting to lean back, something in him shifted. He turned his head towards her as she pulled away, so his cheek was softly grazing hers. She stilled a bit, looking into his eyes as if she was looking for something, then she closed her eyes and turned the rest of the way, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss.

His breath hitched in his throat as his lips slightly parted, a small gasp making its way out of them when he realized finally, finally he was kissing her. He was kissing Y/N. This was really happening.

He brought a hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as they kissed, probably the softest, the most incredible kiss of his life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe how amazing she felt against him, how her hands in his hair felt just right, how warm her cheek was under his hand.

But despite every bone in his body wanting to kiss her forever, he was the first one to pull away, because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I wish you were mine.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly, apparently still under the effect of their kiss.

“I wish you were mine.” he repeated. “That’s the wish I’ve made on every single birthday since I was sixteen. Everytime you looked at me and told me to make a wish, I was only able to think about how much I wanted to kiss you.”

She stared at him with parted lips, looking into his eyes like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. She could only see love and admiration.

“You’re an idiot, Harry Styles.” she breathed. Then, she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him again, and again, and again, and he felt like everything in his life was finally going to be okay.

some end notes: Sooo I’m sorry for the kind of shitty ending. It’s literally 3 am in Turkey rn and I have an early class but I just wanted to finish this quickly and post it before I went to bed. I haven’t written anything in months because I wasn’t 🌌feeling it🌌 so I basically bullied myself into writing this haha. This is my first posted Harry piece but there are a few other pieces I’ve been working on! (for months, literally. *sigh*)

If you liked it, please feel free to reblog and leave a teeny tiny feedback! Writers really appreciate it!💜

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #happy birthday harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #best friends to lovers #pining

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

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A Discowing at the Wayne Gala

Summary: Getting Jason to go to the Wayne Gala each year was more difficult than putting the Joker away in Arkham; he insisted the part was full of pretentious, rich social climbers who were horribly boring. As it turned out, all he really needed to persuade him was an upset, drunk girl rambling about how much she was going to deck her highschool enemies there to convince himself that he’d be in for a great show. (AKA the extremely chaotic and nonsensical salt/crack fic)

____________________________________________________

“I, Mar--” she hiccupped, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng solemnly swear to rip Lila a new one with Discowing’s godawful costume.”

“You say it girl!” called some random person from across the bar.

“I will--” another hiccup “--use Batman’s Batmobile to run over Kim. And slam Red Hood’s ugly ass helmet onto Adrien’s stupid face.”

“Better yet,” Marinette pounded the table, “I will use their stupid utility belts to dismantle Gabriel’s empire. Somebody give me a yeah!”

“Yeah!”

All in all, the sight wasn’t that atypical for a bar in Gotham, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was barely five feet, wore pigtails, and knocked five men on their asses when they tried to approach her.

“Take that, Hawkass,” she hissed. “Think you can pull a fast one on me when I’m drunk, do you? Well I’ve got news for you!”

Her words slurred together, and she leaned on the bar for support. “When I get my way, you’re going to be tied up into a pretzel and dumped into a volcano, then the tundra and then we’ll see how you like your stupid little jewlery touched.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” her blonde companion hissed. “Get yourself together. We don’t need another one of your breakdowns now. You know we’re going to be busy tomorrow night, and I don’t want to deal with you completely hung over all throughout the gala.”

“Aww,” Marinette squished her cheek onto Chloe’s “You know you love me.”

“Yes, yes, but I’m not going to tolerate this bullshit. If you want to make good on your plans, you need to be in tip top shape.”

“Ughhhh, why are they even invited to the stupid gala? It’s not even like they’re rich! Oh wait, I guess they are…” Marinette pressed her face to the bar, which was undoubtedly dirty. She reveled in it’s coolness, brushing her bangs out of her face. “And why do you have to be right? I guess I have to stop drinking if I want to make any of my plans work.”

“Your plans will work, hungover or not. It’s just a question of how much you’ll be able to enjoy them. I don’t want you complaining for months after the fact that you don’t remember half of what happened.”

“I guess you’re right. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I'm feeling a little too warm to ice them out.” Staggering, Marinette got to her feet. “Call an Uber?”

“It’s already here.”

“What made you change your mind?” Tim frowned at Jason, doubtful that he wasn’t going to cop out at the last second. He was sure that he was only putting on his suit as some sort of deliberate ploy to get out of the Gala. Truthfully, it wasn’t required that all of them attend the Gala, but it was one of the few events that brought together most of the Wayne family.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “Let’s just say I’m expecting quite the show.”

Jason kept a hawkish gaze on the entrance, waiting for the appearance of one short, pigtailed girl, and a taller blonde. They arrived almost forty five minutes into the Gala, which was good timing; not late enough to be considered rude, but most people have already arrived and have made their rounds.

Marinette looked different out of the dim lighting of the bar, and even though she definitely looks like she’s nursing a light hangover, she still managed to look stunning. With a matte-black floor length dress that attracted all light in the vicinity towards it, it’s hard not to look her way; Tim, for one, stared at the outfits that Marinette and her companion are wearing with stars in his eyes. Any moment now, he’s going to approach them. Or he would if he weren’t on Jason-sitting duty.

“I’ll play nice,” Jason promised.

“You? Nice?” Tim sounded incredulous, and it’s not like he can fault him. Whenever Jason did successfully get roped into coming to the Gala, it’s a sure thing that he gets at least one fist fight started, if not an everyone for themselves sort of situation.

“They’re the reason I decided to come. It’s not me you have to be worried about.”

Tim groaned. “Really? They’re trouble makers? But they’re wearing MDC!”

Jason chuckled, slipping a hand into his pants pocket. Tim was weirdly obsessed with the highly secretive French designer. Nobody ever saw them in person. “Wearing your fashion icon doesn’t mean they can’t kick ass.”

Tim rocked back on his heels, looking at the two girls calculatively. “That’s right. If anything, they’re more likely to kick ass, because that’s the kind of confidence that MDC inspires in their designs. Well, if you’re not going to fight them, I’m going to introduce myself.”

“And I can’t leave my little brother alone.” Jason said, watching the blonde girl point in the direction of, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel Agreste’s son and his plus one.

Who knew that doing a preliminary reading of the guests would be so informative? He could only guess what kind of beef Marinette had with Agreste Jr.--Bruce had enough problems with Gabriel; even though Wayne Enterprises only dabbled in fashion, Gabriel was a ruthless man when it came to his competitors, and tried to edge them out of the market multiple times. Foolish on his part, not taking into consideration that both Bruce and Tim were very, very stubborn people who only get more difficult to face when dealing with a challenge.

Wayne Enterprise might primarily be considered with R&D and technology companies, but underestimating the amount of influence Tim could gather when someone pissed him off was just a bad idea.

“Hi, I’m Tim--”

“--and it’s lovely to meet you, but we’re on a mission right now,” finished the blonde girl, who Jason was now 98% sure is Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of Paris’ mayor and Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois. “Dupain-Cheng, it’s your time to shine.”

“God,” Marinette muttered underneath her breath, ducking her head. “I can’t believe you’re holding me to what I said while drunk last night.”

“It’s not just what you said drunk last night, it’s the most effective way of dealing with that liar. She’ll be so embarrassed she’ll hide away forever. Maybe get some plastic surgery and change her name. Daddy will make sure she can never step foot in Paris again.”

“Chloe,” Marinette groaned. “We all know how that panned out last time. Do you want a repeat performance?”

“By that time Hawkmoth will already be taken down. No need to worry about evil butterflies.”

“Evil butterflies?” Tim frowned.

“We can fill you in later, Marinette has a car to steal.”

“Chloe!”

“Oh stuff it, Dupain-Cheng, you’re no goody two shoes, even though you pretend to be one.”

Marinette whispers into Chloe’s ear, eyeing Jason and Tim. “Do you have to discuss that with other people around?”

“Well,” Chloe crossed her arms. “You boys aren’t going to rat us out, are you? They’re part of the infamous Wayne family. They’ll definitely be in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know they already reached out-- I can’t risk--” Marinette kept cutting herself off. “Fine, but if you-know-what falls through, I’m putting it all on you.”

“Like they’re going to pass you up just because of what’s going to go down at this gala. If anything, they’ll be glad to know that you’re as vicious as you are creative,” Chloe checked her nails and touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“Sorry, what? I’m a little bit lost.”

“Keep up, Drake. I’m beginning to doubt your title as child-genius.You have the unique opportunity to watch history in the making.”

“Wait,” Tim’s jaw almost dropped at the display in front of him. “How did you even--”

“Trade secret. Marinette doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But that’s the Batmobile.”

“Yeah, and?”

Jason laughed. He stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile, Marinette stole the whole thing. What a sight.

Here’s how the rest of the night went: Chloe plied Marinette with copious amounts of water, trying to get rid of her headache. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile (to which Chloe cackled, “And she doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet,” and Tim paled to the shade of freshly fired ceramic plate.) They ran over Kim, who, somehow managed to get into the event as a server of sorts, at which point Tim swore that the background checks would have to be upped again. Marinette landed the Batmobile in the middle of the gala, barely managing to avoid several innocents who were in her path. She reached into the convenient storage compartment that Jason was previously unaware of and pulled out the Discowing outfit and his helmet-- seriously, how did she get those?-- and slammed the car door.

Security, of course, was waiting for them. How couldn’t they, with that big of a disturbance? Half of the guests were up in a tizzy-- mostly the ones who were experiencing their first Wayne Gala-- and the other half were looking on, amused. Tim waved the guards off as Marinette made her way to Lila and Adrien, like a vengeful Valkyrie.

“You,” Marinette grimaced. “Chloe, say the words, I forgot them.”

“We decided that words were useless, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marinette said, before promptly slamming Red Hood’s helmet onto Adrien’s head hard enough for him to fall to the ground, likely concussed. Lila, who started screeching and running away made for a surprisingly difficult target. Well, difficult in the fact that she was using other people as shields, but once she came across a group of Experienced Wayne Gala Goers, she got pushed out of her comfort zone.

In eight inch heels and with her hair down, Marinette stalked towards her prey.

“Lila Rossi,” Marinette intoned. “Your sins will be judged.”

“What are you going to do, Marinette? You have no power here. We’re in America now. No Ladybug to back you up. No public opinion in your favor.”

Marinette shuddered. “Ugh, your voice makes me want to vomit. In any case, I sentence you to life in Discowing’s costume.”

“You can’t make me wear anything!”

Famous last words, Lila.

“I’m still so confused. What just happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe gave Tim a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to this kind of thing if you end up hanging around Marinette more often.”

“I think I’m in love,” said Jason.

“Get in the back of the line. The only thing Marinette has time for now are her plans to take down Hawkmoth.”

“I’m not opposed to joining you. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” Jason paused. “By the way, has she already stolen the utility belts to take down Gabriel or does she need more? I’ve got contacts.”

"Fair warning, everything in Paris is at least twenty times crazier than what you’ve seen here today.” Chloe swiped through a few notifications on her phone. “And please, do you think someone who hotwired the Batmobile needs your help getting her hands on a couple utility belts? If she really put her mind to it, she could get the Lasso of Truth from Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, Jason, I’m definitely not going to join you on that trip.” Tim turned his attention towards Marinette, who was currently passed out on the hotel couch. “Anyways, You two are wearing MDC, right? I have a meeting with them tomorrow!”

Chloe looked at the poor boy with pity. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

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i’m really churning out these jasonette prompts like butter (god butter is so freaking good you ever eat butter straight? i do. heart attack city & the next paula dean) even tho i only thought about joining in right when july was ending but here we are

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itsagrimm · 3 years ago

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Darth Maul one shot.

This picture was an inspiration for it so pls leave some love there.

bury me 6 feet deep for the cheesy ending. I deserve it.

Darth Maul x Y/N gender neutral reader without description of appearance during his reign on Mandalore

Later: Savage Opress x Y/N

Summary: You and the snappy crime boss have been friends for a while. You enjoy each other’s company and spend your free time being good ol' meanies together. Savage joins you in a surprising twist.

CN: talk of bad dates and murder, talk of sex and relationship, alcohol consumption

1700 words

The office was empty except for a table in the middle, a few chairs, and a giant window across the large doors. It was a minimal arrangement, and the inattentive visitor would have considered it bare or tasteless. But the inattentive visitor would see the man behind the table as a threat, a monster, a murderer and not the most beautiful and powerful centre of the room.

"Maul!"

He looked up from his work. Intelligent eyes met Y/N. Instead of an answer he raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Lord Maul."

He nodded. His power always had to be recognized first. Even by you.

"Y/N. What a surprise. I thought you were busy. Sit down."

You bowed to your lord before taking one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Yeah... the date didn't go so well."

Maul leant back and casually put one leg on one of the armchairs.

"Oh really? Do tellwhat the man, who will likely have an unfortunate accident now, did?"

You smiled.

"Oh yeah, accidents can be so surprising. It's always so sad when someone dies. Especially when the concerning man had the audacity to only talk about himself during the date. He did not even ask my name. I don't even know why I went outside for that."

Maul grimaced.

"I don't think one accident to this"- he gesticulated into the air before spitting out-" boy will be enough."

"Yeah. But maybe he is not worth it. It takes a lot of work and effort before someone dies. And I actually have other things to do."

The dark sith lord, criminal master mind and successful general rolled his eyes.

"Your reluctance to make your enemies pay always surprises me. You need to put in the work sometimes. It can feel so satisfying to see your enemies bloody and begging before you."

"I know. You are so right. But right now, I just needed to vent. Do you wanna get out of here?"

He looked at the desk. It was full of holopads, data carts and actual paper.

"Yeah. I am done for now. Let's go."

XXXXXXXX

“Why are you always so extra?”, you tried to compliment Maul who was striding through the palace gardens before you.

He did not even flinch before answering.

“You call this extra? I call this a casual. I have not even tried to impress yet.”

You chuckled.

Maul was wearing dark pants made from silken fabric, an equally dark thin coat with leather armoury shoulder pieces and no shirt therefore showing off his muscular chest and his dathomirian tattoos. He looked good and he walked like a man who knew he looked good.

“Alright. Next to you I feel like an ugly Bantha after my horrible date and little time to change.”

He turned around and checked your outfit.

“Yeah, I can see why you feel that way.”

You gasped.

“Maul! Don’t be mean!”

He smiled.

“Come on, that one was just low hanging fruit. And you know, no one can tease my beautiful and extraordinary friends except me. So this little bad date boy’s life is still hanging on a thin thread.”

“Ok. let’s plan his untimely death tomorrow. I need a drink today.”

“Works for me.”

XXXXXXXXX

The bar was busy. But the Lord of Mandalore and his company got a table at the more private back of the bar, giving you and Maul the chance to observe and gossip.

“Do you see that man over there?”, he pointed at an armoured warrior at a faraway table, “He looks cute. He would definitely be a better date than your last, at least in the looks department.”

You checked the man. He was chatting with a few other Mandalorians. His armour was of a clean blue colour and it was well kept.

“Meh, that armour is a bit too shiny for someone actually using it. And who goes into a bar while wearing a whole set of an antic armour anyway? No, this gives me show off vibes and I don’t like it.”

Maul shrugged before sipping at his martini.

“You will stay single forever, dear Y/N.”

“What is so bad about that? You are single and appear to be doing perfectly fine.”

“I am the Lord of this dominion. I can do what I want anyway and the words >single< or >in a relationship< cannot not really describe my love life.”

“That’s an awfully complicated way to say you get laid.”

He smirked.

“You can say that.”, he rolled the words of his tongue with particular enjoyment, “But unlike you I am not coming into other people’s offices to lament about bad dates.”

“Just drop the date already and pass me the bottle. I don’t want to talk about the mess that is my love life. How is your life going?”

“Embracing the mess can give you strength. Don’t try to detach yourself from the bad but learn to enjoy it.”

“Is that a Sith thing?”

“Partly. I would consider it a sentient thing. We all are constantly confused, emotional and graving for something. Instead of denying that try to give in and enjoy the chaos. Cheers.”

You clinked your glass filled with fine Mandalorian wine against Mauls martini.

“My life…” he continued, “is alright. I think I can enjoy this. It has been a long time since I felt like I belonged somewhere. And it feels nice to have purpose outside of my own calling. It is nice to know that someone might miss me should I choose to leave Mandalore. My brother likes it here, you are a good friend and reigning Mandalore … and others… is a welcome challenge.”

You smiled.

“I’m glad you feel that way.”

For a few moments both of you stayed silent. You did not know what else to say and Maul was lost in some memories he was not willing to share right now. You two had always worked like that, close and chatty yet respectful and discreet.

“My brother…”, Maul started to talk, “My brother would enjoy this. But I can never convince him to come along.”

“Maybe he does not like loud and busy places. He strikes me as the type who gets stressed out by bars instead of enjoying this.”

“No”, Maul looked into his glass searching for words, “I think Savage would enjoy spending time here with us, with you.”

You starred at Maul.

“What do you mean?”

“I think he likes you. And I think he is shy about it.”

You felt your skin getting hotter.

“You like him too!”, Maul called out his eyes nearly sparkling with excitement.

“No!”

“No? I will tell him that!”

“No!”

“You have manoeuvred yourself into a trap.“

“Why are you torturing me? I don’t even know your brother well. He seems nice and-”

“Oh darling, no night brother is niceunless we want or have to.”

Maul, lord of the sith, slayer of jedi, regent of mandalore and matchmaker of his brother’s fate looked at you with an evil delight. Seeing you here, squirming about your feelings and insecurities in regards of his tall and handsome brothers was most likely the after work entertainment he enjoyed the most.

You took a deep breath.

“Ok, my love life is in your hands. I give up. What now, Maul?”

“Your love life was always in my hands.”, He replied patronizingly while starting to type a his personal com.

“Are you sending a com to your brother?”

“No, just sharing a thought with the chancellor. YES of course I am contacting Savage.”

“He will hate it here. I told you. It is loud and busy.”

“Well then then you two better get out of here fast.”

You glared at him.

“You are unsufferable, Maul.”

“And you love me for that.”

You forced a smile.

He basically beamed with delight at your reaction.

“Well, give savage my regards. I got to go.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“I have ruler of mandalore things to do. Much less entertaining things than you and my brother might do tonight.”

“You can’t leave me here. I will die of embarrassment in front of your brother.”

“Then it was nice meeting you. Any wishes for your burial?”

“Maker, you really are-“

“trying to help you embrace the chaos? Yes, I do indeed.”

You were speechless.

The thought of staying and having a kind of forces surprise date with Savage was a good thought but at the same time you felt unprepared and intrusive towards Savage.

“Ah yes, there he is already. Faster than expected.”

Maul waved towards the entrance at the bar.

Savage was standing there.

He was tall and broad as ever. His ocker skin and horns sticking out of the Mandalorian crowd. And his face had the expression of a painfully reserved man.

When he saw Maul, he started moving through the bar.

When he noticed Y/N his expression hardened.

“Good to see you, dear brother. I was a bit careless with my time tonight, so I must leave early. But my dear friend here had a bad day, could use some company and maybe someone to escort them home later, only for safety of course. Would you mind?”

Mauls voice was nonchalant, as if he had no other motives.

But Savage knew his brother too well.

“Is that it, brother?”

“Ah yes, savage! What else do think there is?”

Savage studied Mauls face for a moment before gazing at you like a commander checking a serving soldier for injuries.

“Alright. I will stay.”, he finally said.

#maul being sassy #darth maul #maul #darth maul x y/n #darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #darth maul fluff #star wars #star wars the clone wars #mandalore #party in a galaxy far far away #savage opress #savage opress x reader #dathomirian #sw:tcw #swtcw #sith lord

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 3 years ago

Text

To Our Beloved Tartaglia

Summary: A story on how two people say i love you without saying it.

A/N: Fluff for today’s birthday boy! I’m buying him a cake and celebrating his birthday! Implied sex at the end.

The freezing temperature of Dragonspine was one you’ve grown to find as a minor inconvenience. Though you do enjoy playing in its place and exploring it for treasures, you’ve never grown to like it. It was just a tourist destination in your humble opinion. Not that anyone who knew you agreed, even Paimon had wondered if you were quite alright in your brain.

Of course, correlation breeds attachment and from the moment you heard Tartaglia offhandedly mention how Dragonspine was like Snezhnaya in its freezing temperature, you’ve dedicated a time in the day to spend time in it to ensure that your body would not be shocked when it finally lands in Snezhnaya. If anyone noticed how you’ve silently grown fond of the place, you’d deny to your dying breath that it had to do with Tartaglia.

Not even Kaeya’s impressive boob window would be able to make you admit your growing intentions to tie down the volatile Harbinger to your side through marriage. There were some things you wanted to keep close to your chest, and this was one of them.

It stood to reason then that you would have kept your sudden desire to perfect the art of cocktail mixing or to be more honest, perfecting Blue Lagoon. Your sudden daily appearance in Cat’s Tail had been the talk of Mondstadt, it grew large enough that even the Traveler and Paimon had dropped by.

“Paimon wonders why you would work here just to practice your bartending skills?” Paimon had asked after being served a non-alcoholic drink.

“I wanted to make a drink for Childe with the fire water he gifted me on my birthday” You revealed as you finished the Long Island and gave it to the Traveler, “On the house.”

You winked at them.

“Huh? Why would you even want to do that?”

You smiled and didn’t answer Paimon, opting to give her food to distract her. On the side, the Traveler gave you a knowing look but you merely signaled them to keep it a secret.

“I really hate the taste of fire water but it does its job in the cold. I don’t know why you’d want something like this, comrade...but if it makes you happy-”

“Since you hate the taste of it, give me enough time to make a drink suitable for you.”

“Hahaha! There’s no need to go that far, I’ve drank this when I was just a year in the Fatui!”

“Then I’ll give you a drink just for you as Tartaglia.”

When you saw his letter today, you couldn’t help but feel the bubbling emotion in your heart. Excitement rushed through your veins as you ignored the rest of the letters addressed to you to read his letter. You sat in front of your house’s door step, smile on your face as you read his letter.

You couldn’t help but imagine the whine in his tone, you lamented that the two of you couldn’t have bumped into him at Dragonspine but your travels took you far and wide through Teyvat. The chances of meeting him by chance were low, so you resigned on buying information of his whereabouts.

Nothing substantial, just sightings of him if only to fake a chance meeting but it didn't happen so far. The two of you were always on the opposite ends of Teyvat that you had half a mind that Celestia itself was sabotaging your love life. Your heart felt elated at knowing he was fondly remembering the time you had spent with each other, as well as the sparring sessions that always seemed like on the verge of something more.

When your eyes read the final words on his letter, you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken.

“A special day?” You muttered to yourself, your mind quickly churning as you hastily went inside your rented home in Mondstadt and quickly rushed towards your room to grab your room to change your clothes. You had thought he was in Snezhnaya so you had already sent his gift earlier, timing it so that it would arrive today but if his letter was to be understood, it meant that he was in Liyue today.

‘If I use the waypoints, I can get there quickly and spend the day with him!’ You thought as you began to meticulously fix yourself. You wanted to show him the best sides of you today.

Your clothes were meticulously picked, the outfit would pose no hazards during a battle while at the same time accentuating your figure and increasing your charm. You wanted to be prepared on the off chance Tartaglia wanted to have a spar, but if he wanted to go on a date,

“Then I’ll be prepared as well!” You giggled as you finished checking yourself out and began to apply light waterproof make-up. Your lips were glossed and purposely drawn to capture his attention on how kissable it was.

You sprayed a soft floral perfume before winking at the mirror and making your way to the nearest warp point and teleporting yourself in Liyue.

You landed softly in front of the teleport waypoint in Feiyun Slope. The effort you spent on yourself was noticeable, the mid-morning populace of Liyue took a couple of glances at you. Anyone could tell that you were about to go on a date, eyes followed you as you happily walked towards the Northland Bank.

“Good morning, Vlad!”

“O-oh! Good morning! Are you here for Lord Tartaglia?” Vlad asked you, blushing after being caught mid-yawn.

“Yeah, I was hoping he was around here” You replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your haste.

Vlad grinned, it was no secret to the employees of the Northland Bank that you and Lord Tartaglia frequently went out together. As far as they were concerned, marriage was a foregone conclusion between the two of you.

“Of course! Just head straight to the second floor! Lord Tartaglia is still in his office around this time!”

“Thanks! I heard Nadia’s into crab tofu this days~” You happily helped Vlad to further his relationship with Nadia.

Each step that you took made your smile brighter, your head was full of thoughts about him. Wondering if he had gotten stronger, was he eating well, did he get new scars, had he visited his family recently, was he taking good care of himself. All of this went through your head as you headed to his office but most of all you thought,

‘Did you think of me as much as I thought of you?’

Your heart was bursting at the seams and you couldn’t wait to be reunited with him. Your footsteps slowed as you reached the door to his office, you could hear the soft muffled sounds of scribbling behind the door. You stood in front of it, debating, thinking, on the words you wanted to say to him.

You hesitated, wondering if the words on his letter were just politeness and not a reflection of his true feelings towards you. You lingered in front of the door, listening to the sounds inside the room, and wondered if you could cross the line today. You thought of the package that had surely already arrived in Snezhnaya, before your thoughts could even spiral further down the road, the door opened and in front of you stood Tartaglia.

Somehow, against your will, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Your traitorous body revealing your heart right in front of him without any regard for your reservations.

“Tartaglia!”

And when he smiled back, eyes soft as if the mere mention of his name had not revealed your fondness of him, you felt yourself fall in love with him again.

Your name felt safe in his mouth, treasured, and when he pulled you close and held you in a tight embrace, you prayed that he wouldn’t hear the quick and rapid pump of your heart nor would he realize how easily you melted in his embrace.

“You came! I didn’t really expect you to come so quickly!” His tone was bashful, pleased, and a little bit shy and it made you even softer for him.

“Neither did I! I was hoping you were here since I’ve never been to your home in Morepesok before…” You trailed off, feeling shy.

He laughed softly, “If you keep that up, I might just really think you’ve missed me so much!”

“I did miss you” You admitted with soft eyes as you watched his face slowly turn red.

“Comrade…” Tartaglia averted his eyes, the back of his covering half of his face, “I’m no match for you today.”

You chuckled softly, “Mhm. Before that let me greet you first.”

He looked at you and you wondered what sort of face you were making right now. You sincerely hoped it wasn’t weird or ugly.

“I’m listening.”

“Tartaglia, Happy birthday” You stepped closer to his personal space, hands on his chest as you tiptoed and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve actually sent your gift to Morepesok but since you’re here...today I’ll give myself to you.”

Tartaglia blushed as he grasped your hands and with unconcealed anticipation replied, “How bold! I can’t believe you’re saying that in broad daylight!”

“What’s bold about it?” You asked him “I’m willing to do anything you want today as your present since your real one is in Snezhnaya.”

“Oh.”

You frowned at his reaction, “I-I can change it to something else! Do you want new weapons?” You worried that you had disappointed him with your stand-in gift.

“No!”

He coughed upon realizing his reaction and hastened to explain himself, “I mean, I’m glad to have you today! You can’t change it to something else!”

You felt relieved at his words. Tartaglia continued speaking, “I want to go on a date with you today, eat your cooking for lunch, and then spar in the afternoon, and we finish this at my room.”

“As you wish!”

In the morning, after Tartaglia had finished signing and writing the documents for the Fatui, the two of you ate breakfast at Wanmin Restaurant. His skills in using chopsticks were marginally better but it still took him many attempts before he could eat a couple of bites.

It was cute. It was endearing. And you were so so in love that you didn’t mind picking up the crystal shrimp and feeding it to him.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy” You told him when his mouth remained close and you could see the hesitation in his eyes “You’ll need all the energy for our fight later.”

You locked eyes with him as he ate from your chopsticks, seeing up close how long his lashes were, the slight curl on its end and the fascinating blue of his eyes. You wondered if Tartaglia could see how much you loved him, if your eyes betrayed the depth of your affection for him. But as soon as he removed his mouth from the chopsticks, crystal shrimp gone, the moment had ended and you ate from your bowl of Universal Peace.

When you saw him swallow, you immediately reached for the Squirrel Fish and took a piece of it, offered it to him and Tartaglia ate. Had it anyone else you wouldn’t have bothered but as always, Tartaglia managed to be the exception and you didn’t mind.

After eating, the two of you walked along Liyue Harbor, browsing shops and buying him small trinkets to bring back home. You visited the blacksmith to commission him a new bow, one designed to further improve his skills at the bow. You would pick it up later in the day, and Tartaglia dragged you to watch opera. The two of you sat close, closer than usual and the butterflies in your stomach never settled down. His hand never left yours and you wondered what sort of picture the two of you painted in the eyes of Liyue’s populace.

You couldn’t help but wish that you could keep on celebrating his birthdays with him from now on.

By the time the play ended it was past lunch time, so the two you went to the market stalls and bought ingredients for a late lunch before heading back to his apartment. Tartaglia helped as you made his longevity noodles, telling him the story behind it from a time before Rex Lapis’.

“I guess, you must really like me that much if you’re giving me this to eat!”

“Well, since we met in the middle of my life, I wanted to make sure that we’d have a lot of time to spend together to make up for it” You teased him even if it was the truth.

You didn’t know what the future held for both of you but you wanted to be part of his life longer than the time you weren’t in it. In his kitchen, you served him the noodles, every part of it made with love and well-wishes for his life and you hoped that there would be more years to come that you could spend it this way.

‘I wonder if you could tell how much I love you with each bite you take?’

When all was said and done, when the two of you had gone through all of his wishes, you both sat at the pavilion in the Dwelling in the Clouds, stargazing and observing Celestia. Between the two of you were two glasses filled with Blue Lagoon.

“You know, I never thought that you’d really make a drink with Fire Water that I’d like” Tartaglia said, his gaze far away “Say, do you do this for others too?”

“I don’t” You confessed, your face felt like it was on fire, you had never been comfortable speaking out your love unless it was hidden behind a joke or said in a playful careless manner.

A moment later, Tartaglia’s movement had you looking at him, drinking in the rare sight of his gentle smile, a genuine one that carried only what you dared to hope was fondness for you.

“If you keep this up, looking at me like that, I might really get my hopes up” His voice was soft and gentle as his face came closer to yours.

“Say comrade, if I kissed you right now what would you do?”

Before you could even think of a reply his lips were on yours and you were pushed down the bench, glasses strewn aside as Tartaglia’s tongue entered your open mouth and kissed you deeply. Your arms embraced his neck as the two of you kissed passionately, drowning in each other in gentle passionate bliss above the clouds. His hand lingered on your thigh, squeezing and caressing it as he applied pressure on your crotch and creating a friction that had you arching your body close.

When the two of you came up for air, you looked so debauched that Tartaglia almost couldn’t help but devour you right then. The flush on your cheeks, the dazed look in your eyes and your glistening red lips that had been a temptation to him all day created a picture that would always linger in his mind.

“If I asked you to give yourself to me…” Tartaglia’s hand traveled down your inner thigh, getting closer to the sides of your crotch “would you?”

“...yes” You covered your eyes, if only to hide your embarrassment.

His soft laughter had you peeking back at him.

“Thank you”

His lips were back on yours and made no move to stop him as his hands went under your clothes, playing with your body as if he had spent time thinking on how to elicit moans from your mouth. He was gentle but purposeful in his acts as your clothes were removed piece by piece and discarded into a pile on the floor.

You bit your hand as he took you apart again and again, plunging you into a passionate love affair that had you crying for his name and tasting the sweetness of his love with each kiss. It felt sacrilegious to have done such an act in a place owned by the Adepti but each bite, each kiss, had your heart pounding in excitement.

You loved him as ardently as the fires of Natlan, as deep as the waters of Liyue’s seas, you loved him with all of your heart and every fiber of your being. What bliss it was to experience this love that made you feel human, that the mere mention of his name could bring a smile on your face.

How wonderful it was to be in his arms right now, enjoying the bliss of being loved and loved in return. With your hands clasped together with his, your heart filled to the seams, you spoke,

“I’m glad to have met you.”

When Tartaglia had left that letter on your doorstep, he had stood in front of it for a long while. Wondering what you would say if he was the first thing you saw in the morning. Would you greet him with a happy birthday? Or would you scream in fright? His thoughts went on and on as he merely stood there thinking upon dozens of scenarios if only for you to be the first one to wish him a happy birthday.

He wanted to tell you that his days were no longer the same without you by his side, that the mundane everyday life no longer felt exciting when you weren’t there to experience it with him. He wanted to tell you how he always wanted you to just show up whenever your informants inquired about him.

He had entertained the thought that you would one day show up in his workplace, food in hand and his name on your lips but he knew that you were the type to stick to your duties, and really he couldn't fault you for that when he was the same. But sometimes, the selfish and childish part of him wanted you to throw away everything for him.

Just for a while, just for a moment, if only to have something to look back upon when all was said and done.

So when he had seen you standing before him, eyes bright and looking at him like he was your most cherished person, he couldn’t help the happiness that was bursting at the seams. And now that you were in his arms, on his lap with your head on his chest, he couldn’t help but kiss you again and again. Making up for lost time, for all of those moments when he could have breached the line and made a move but didn’t.

“Stay with me” He offered, asked even when he knew that it was impossible right now. Not when either of your allegiance could go against each other any time, you with the Adventurer’s guild and him with the Fatui.

“One day” you promised.

And that was enough for him. It gave him hope that both of you would make it out alive. It gave him something to look forward to when his time with the Harbingers had come to an end.

#tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #childe x reader #happy birthday tartaglia

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leejeongz · 4 years ago

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jealous treasure (asahi-junghwan)

🔅i’m gonna use another member in each one because it’s easier than making up a whole new person and explaining a bit about them for each one if that makes sense. but this is just for fun, it’s fictitious, remember that pls🔅

find the other members here

🌷 asahi:

“it’s wednesday” junkyu announced. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to say whatever was in his brain, but today the other boys decided to humour him a little and asked him to elaborate.

“we should wear pink” he clarified as if everyone should know. asahi rolled his eyes, you’d been pestering asahi to tell junkyu to watch mean girls since well, forever, and that now he’d finally watched it, he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“but you’re not wearing any pink” asahi pointed out after scanning his whole body.

junkyu corrected him by fetching the hoodie he was expecting to wear. it was a soft, baby pink colour, with a little heart on the pocket right in the middle. asahi recognised it straight away.

“where did you get that?” he asked. junkyu couldn’t lie, he’d been caught red handed.

“from your closet” he confessed “but you always wear it and i thought i might look cute in it, can i wear it just for one day?” he begged with pleading eyes.

“hm let me think” asahi put his hand to his chin with sarcasm written all over his face “no” he snatched it from junkyu’s hands. “why would you wear y/n’s hoodie anyway?” he asked

“i-” junkyu stuttered “i didn’t know it was theirs” he said while assessing the situation “but are you really jealous right now? i didn’t know you were the type” he laughed, drawing the attention of the other members.

“no” he scoffed, “i’m not jealous, i just don’t think that they would want you wearing their hoodie. you smell” he spat out, turning his back and heading for his room.

“someone call y/n” junkyu said, wanting you to hear what a jealous man your boyfriend really is.

“don’t you have something better to do, like finding your own pink hoodie, you know, like the one you never take off your own back?” asahi snaps back, referring to the infamous pink hoodie from junkyu’s trademark outfit. as he leaves the living room, asahi takes a hesitant sniff at the jumper, hoping junkyu hasn’t infected it with his scent so much so that it no longer smells of you.

🍄 yedam:

having been stuck inside your house for what felt like a year, you were grateful and willing to accept any invitation to leave. today’s invite came from your boyfriend, yedam, who’d recently been too busy working to come and see you, which was completely understandable. he’d asked if you’d like to join him and a few of his friends on a walk around a nearby park, you of course said yes.

with beautiful scenery came the chance to take beautiful pictures. noticing that your boyfriend was too preoccupied by the ice cream van, you asked one of his friends, jeongwoo, to take a picture of you by the fountain. he agreed and instructed you on how to pose so that it wouldn’t look awkward. you followed his advice and managed to get a few shots. you walked back over to jeongwoo, who innocently stood with your phone in his hand, when you saw your boyfriend come rushing over.

“what are you doing with their phone?” he questioned “they let you take photos of them?” he spat out in a hurt manner.

“yes…” jeongwoo replied before you stepped in.

“how much are they?” you asked, pointing in the ice cream van’s direction, not understanding what all the commotion was about.

“apparently they’re all out of ice cream” he mocked “but why did you let him take photos of you? that’s my job” he pouted with a soft tone to his voice.

“ooo our yedam is all soft for y/n” jeongwoo jeered which, judging by the look yedam gave back to him, was not appropriate. “it was just 3 pictures” jeongwoo clarified “the model isn’t that easy to work with anyway, they have no fresh ideas of their own to spice up my business” he scoffed jokingly while handing your phone back to you, causing yedam to finally crack a smile.

“⅕ stars, pictures came out wonky and the photographer is bossy, unlike my lovely yedam” you smiled, playing into the joke. it wasn’t long before yedam was back to his usual cheerful self and had also finally decided that an iced tea was a good substitute for ice cream too.

🧶doyoung:

there was a lot of things in your house that didn’t make sense, but the worst was definitely the paintings hung up in your room that you’d never gotten around to taking down, mainly because you couldn’t reach them but shhh. you’d always been too shy to ask doyoung, knowing he’d laugh at you and tease you for being too short to reach them, and given you hadn’t been together for that long, you weren’t sure how much you’d appreciate that being your first inside joke.

a friend of yours, jihoon, had come over to your house while doyoung was there, which wasn’t exactly an issue, he knew you and jihoon were friends and he respected that. the three of you often gossiped and gamed together, it was a common thing these days.

“i tell you this every time im here but those are so ugly y/n, please take them down” jihoon glanced up, locking eyes with the spooky man in the painting and shuddering.

“i can’t reach” you joked, forgetting your boyfriend was also there.

“i’ll do it then” jihoon announced, standing up and reaching each painting easily.

“i could have done that” doyoung whispered under his breath while staring at you. you turned to your left to see your boyfriend's unimpressed face. “why did you let him do it?” he questioned, seeming really quite angry.

“he offered, i wasn’t gonna say no” you defended yourself. jihoon took this as his queue to leave and take the artwork elsewhere, he didn’t know where, but anywhere was better than being in that room with you two.

“is it because of his big muscles? is it because you value his opinion more than mine?” doyoung asked, laughing at his own thoughts and how ridiculous they were but possibly true.

“no” you rolled your eyes before making eye contact again “its because he offered” you repeated.

“and if i offered?” he asked, expecting you to say that you would have declined.

“obviously i would have said yes” you replied, “they were horrible i don’t care who got them down i just wanted them gone”

“oh” he sat back and relaxed into the pillow “well i’m glad they’re gone. i didn’t like to say it, but they were creepy” he laughed with you. “the next thing to go is him though” he joked, seeing jihoon walk back into your room, which of course was replied to with a scoff from your sassy friend.

💥haruto:

your sleeping pattern was well and truly out of the window, so you decided to stay up and call one of your friends that you knew would be awake, hyunsuk. he was just like you, you both slept at 4am and woke up at 2pm, so he wasn’t that shocked when you called, wide awake like him.

“where’s haruto? wasn’t he supposed to be staying at your place tonight?” he asked, genuinely concerned about his friend. you flipped the camera to show your bed, where a certain sleepy haruto lay, peacefully entering dreamland. “he’s so cute” hyunsuk giggled, you cooed in agreeance, he really was the cutest.

you stayed on call for about an hour. you were currently laughing about the tiktok he’d just sent to you, your humour was exactly the same too so it’s wasn’t hard for you to crack the other up. all the commotion woke your boyfriend, whose bed head was clearly visible in the reflection of your opened laptop when he sat up.

“did we wake you?” hyunsuk laughed upon hearing a groan from his friend.

“we?” haruto responded in a sleepy voice. “who’s we?”

“uhh us” you pointed between you and the phone.

“y/n? hyunsuk?” he snapped out of his sleepy state quickly. “why are you two up at this time and on the phone together?” you looked at hyunsuk on the screen and smiled, trying to hold in your laughter. “turn that off and come to bed, i want cuddles, and i want you to get some sleep, unlike him” he flung himself back at the bed, only inches away from hitting his head on the headboard.

“wait for me” hyunsuk joked in a teasing tone.

“no, not you” haruto whined. “just y/n please” he smiled closing his eyes and opening his arms, ready for you to join him.

“i guess this is goodnight then” you said to hyunsuk, which haruto followed up with a goodnight for his friend too before you put the phone down.

“now, cuddles please!”

♟jeongwoo:

for jaehyuk’s birthday this year, he asked for a small gathering, just close friends, which you of course are included in since you and jeongwoo had been together for over 2 years now. when you arrived, you quickly gauged the atmosphere of the party was pretty light and fun, it wasn’t oppressive in the slightest. usually parties you attended were fully kitted out with loud music, dimly lit rooms and a bunch of strangers in every room, instead your friends were in the living room, just chatting and laughing.

“you came!” jaehyuk screeched, running over to hug you. “oh and you bought a plus one, jeongwoo” he joked around with your boyfriend, who just rolled his eyes in response.

it wasn’t long before the boys delved into the games cupboard and pulled out the “who’s most likely to” box. the oldest of the boys shuffled the cards and took the top one which read “who’s the funniest”. whenever you played, this one always seemed to come out first, so you changed your answer every time to please everyone.

you turned around your board with the name “jaehyuk” written on it. your eyes scanned the room to see almost everyone had his name written on their boards, probably because it was his party after all. you quickly diverted your eyes away, however, when you saw that jeongwoo had written your name, which should have made you feel happy but instead, you felt quite guilty for not writing his.

the game went on, and your name wasn’t written on jeongwoo’s board ever again, despite you putting his for almost everything positive. the rest of the evening, jeongwoo didn’t come near you at all, everyone noticed, everyone questioned it, it was so obvious that he was jealous, but there was no way he was admitting to it.

as you got ready to leave, you glanced over at the boy who was supposed to be staying with you tonight, sat firmly in his place on the sofa.

“jeongwoo, aren’t you coming?” you shouted from the door. “jaehyuk is staying here so you don’t have to worry about him” you teased, everyone else smiling at you and giggling silently.

“fine” he grunted. you made up on the way home, he couldn’t even remember how it all started, he just “wanted to make a point” which, sure, he did.

🌍junghwan:

you and junghwan never got to spend much time together before you became friends with the members since he was always with them or at school, which is why he’s never complained or showed any jealousy when you are with them.

today you headed over to their dorms to relax and play when you remembered, today was the day of junghwan’s english exam. you pulled out your phone and dropped him a quick good luck text before continuing your journey.

yoshi brought you up to his room where he said you could chill for a bit since everyone else was still sleeping, other than those who had school of course. yoshi began to ask you lots of questions, you learnt a lot about each other in that hour or so, and the conversation was flowing so well that you didn’t hear the door.

“y/n, you did remember?!” junghwan asked excitedly, clapping his hands while smiling from ear to ear. “you came all the way here to see me after i finished?”

“remember what?” you asked, bewildered. “your exam? yeah i sent you a text, i’m sorry i didn’t realise until i was over half way here else i would have gone to see you first” you confessed, feeling guilty. his face dropped at your honest words.

“you mean you came all the way here just to see yoshi?” he asked. “everyone else was in the kitchen, but you two were in here… alone…?” disappointed in your reasoning and forgetfulness, he slowly backed out of the room. he wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. he wanted to feel sad and upset, but did you really do anything wrong, he thought. “you couldn’t have just turned around and gone home”

“well i didn’t want to, i wanted to see my friends. i didn’t realise that most of them didn’t get up until the afternoon” you walked closer to him, praying that he didn’t try and get away. “i’m sorry i forgot about your exam”

he shuffled closer to you. you’d never argued before, and he wasn’t sure how to respond, so he hoped a hug would go down well. as he hugged you, he whispered his own apology into you hair “i’m sorry for jumping to conclusions”

#treasure #treasure reactions #treasure imagines #asahi #yedam #bang yedam #doyoung #haruto #jeongwoo #junghwan

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saturnsummer · 3 years ago

Text

baby, be with me so happily

based off that video that drove me nuts and that photo. anyways, a small excerpt i guess that i might want to include in a future bokseul fic? hm... still brewing...

enjoy as always, grammar and other mistakes by me!

summary: after bokgi witnesses something, his suspicions are confirmed when he sees it again in person.

word count: 3181 words

excerpt title: protect.

trigger warning: abuse, slight mention of blood, minor cursing.

"Yah, Bokgi! Are you listening?" Yebeom nudged his friend as Bokgi stirred his metal tray of rice.

“What?" Bokgi raises his head, to find his friends staring in concern. Bokgi, confused, leans back as he spoons another mouthful of rice into his mouth. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he chewed anyway. He knew if he didn’t eat, he would end up dozing off in class. And it didn’t help that he was already blacklisted for talking back to the teachers often.

"You okay? You seem pretty distracted." The older Sol asks. Bokgi shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with his noona. But he knows that amongst the six of them, he’s the worst liar. Setting his utensils down, he leans forward and darts his eyes and head around. The group gets his cue as they lean down to the table further, huddling together.

"You know Jeon Yeseul-ssi?" Bokgi asked. Yebeom cocked his eyebrow.

"What, the eye candy in my batch?" The younger Sol turns her head, staring in a cold piercing stare and swats his arm. Jiho clicks his tongue as Joon Hwi sighs.

"Yeah, she's the new transfer right? Just got in about a week ago?" Joon Hwi asks, ignoring the mutters of complaints from Yebeom.

"What's up? You like her?" The older Sol asks, a hopeful grin on her face. Bokgi swears his face flushed red, but this wasn't the time. He needed to be truthful on what he saw.

"I saw her this morning arguing with an older guy today. Some college dude. He looks kind of familiar, I just can’t remember.” Bokgi admits uncertainty in his voice as he chews on a piece of meat.

"It might just be her boyfriend, and they got into a fight." Jiho quips.

"It didn't look like it. The way he shouted and the way she shrunk back was...different. I can't put my finger on it, but it felt weird." Bokgi sighs. "Maybe I'm thinking too much about it."

The group is mostly silent as they finish their meals. Bokgi, still deep in his thoughts, can't shake the image from this morning. The way Yeseul's eyes were so full of fear and hurt when she looked up at the older guy, the way when her eyes met Bokgi's that screamed helplessness, but she only gave a small smile when Bokgi asked if she was okay. Most of the time, Bokgi would have blushed as usual whenever he caught her eyes, but that moment, he felt uncertainty and sadness.

"Bokgi, she has club activities with me today. I'll ask her about it carefully. Maybe ask if she has a boyfriend or whatever first. After all, she did create quite a buzz when she arrived." Sol says. Bokgi hides a blush and darts his eyes away to anywhere but his friends. God, Sol-noona is never gonna let me get away with my embarrassment.

"Thanks, noona."

"Oh, wait. Sejun from class 5 just sent me some gossip." Yebeom said, scrolling on his phone. "He says that some girls have asked Yeseul and confirmed she has a boyfriend. Her boyfriend is popular politician's son, Ko Yeongchang."

"Ah! The guy that went viral for all his videos online and good looks?" Joon Hwi asks as Bokgi researches his name and confirms it when a bunch of his photos pop up over his browser. Yes, this was the man that Bokgi saw with Yeseul this morning. But why does he feel like he knows Yeongchang from somewhere else too?

“We’re going to be late. Let’s go.” Jiho says, picking up his tray and the rest follow suit as they head out to clear it. They split to their respective classes, agreeing to meet after school at the entrance.

Bokgi shoves his hands in his blazer pockets as he walks back to his classroom, taking his seat at the back. He slumps his head on the table, replaying the way that Yeseul shrunk back when Yeongchang raised his voice. The way that Yeseul formed a shaky smile when Bokgi came over to ask if she was okay, and she only nodded. How he noticed the small bruise on her arm, hidden by her blazer, but said no word.

There was something more, and Bokgi was ready to find out.

-----

Yeseul sits on the toilet seat cover of the school’s bathroom as she takes off her blazer and rolls the sleeve of her blouse up. She sighs looking at the bruise that is slightly red, a hint of purple just underneath. She's glad for the blazer now, as much as she hates the rough material and the ugly colour. At least it hides away the bruises blossoming on her arms under the white shirt.

Taking an ointment from her pouch, she dabs carefully, rubbing in with care and bites her lips from hissing when it's too painful. Yeseul sighs when she rolls back her sleeves and runs a hand through her long locks. When she shuts her eyes, she can only replay the way Yeongchang's hand digging into her arm over her fresh bruise from the day before, and her foolish mistake for angering him more when she forced her arm away and shouted back. She knew better than to shout back, especially when they were in front of her school in the early morning.

"I should have never said anything about school..." Yeseul mumbles to herself as she puts her blazer back on. She opens the cubicle door, sighting a few female students reapplying their lip tints and she forces a friendly smile before heading to the last sink to wash her hands. The girls give an equally excited smile back before they rush out in hushed whispers. She catches a girl whispering about how Yeseul looks so elegant, like a sculpture brought to life.

If only they knew, Yeseul thought, as she dried her hands and stared at her lifeless eyes. She fixes a smile on her face before walking out of the washroom. Once she was out, she noticed the back of a familiar curly haired student from afar walking along the hallway alone, hands in his blazer. When he turns to walk into the classroom, Yeseul's eyes soften as she's reminded of what happened just a few hours ago.

Bokgi was someone Yeseul always noticed, even though she had been in school for just a week. She would find him hiding behind a wall and he would run away or just smile in a silly fashion before making a lame excuse to run off, no, sprint away. Yeseul also noted how Bokgi's voice could be heard from the other end of the hallway, arguing with his teacher on the reasons on why he strongly agrees with the point of having all citizens exercise their own right to express their views. Shortly after, when she ended class, he was sitting outside on the floor sulking, kicked out from class. Yeseul stifled a laugh, because for some reason, his sulking made him seem like a cute five year old that didn't manage to convince his parents that he wanted that piece of candy.

When he approached him this morning, his tie loose around his collar and asked in a soft voice if she was okay, Yeseul had wanted to say that it wasn't. Yeseul wanted to admit to him that the bruises on her arms hurt, that she was boiling with anger. But she held her tongue back. No, she wasn't angry, Yeongchang was just going through a phase and his emotions got the best of himself. No, her bruises didn't hurt. Yeongchang doesn't mean any of it, he never means to hurt her.

Yeseul takes a deep breath in as she walks back to her classroom and takes her seat. She flips through the photos she's taken with Yeongchang. A mirror selfie with his arms around her waist in his room. Them in matching outfits sharing a sweet kiss. Her in a body hugging satin ruched dress and him in a suit as they celebrated Valentines. She smiles at the sweet memories, remembering his loving touch and sweet words.

No, she doesn't regret being with Yeongchang. He doesn't mean it.

No, she loves Yeongchang, and he loves her.

Yeseul is okay.

Yeseul is not a victim.

-----

Bokgi unwraps the hand wraps around his knuckles as he pants heavily. Leaning against the locker door, he picks up his phone and replays the video. Screening through, he sighs as he notices the break in his form when he punches the punching bag and how unsteady his footwork is. He needs more practice, if he wants to improve from where he is now.

He wipes the sweat off his forehead, thankful for the hair tie that the older Sol lent him to tie his hair back for training. He grabs a fresh change of clothes before heading to the shower room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and taking a quick shower, erasing all traces of sweat. His boxing training ends the earliest, but he takes the longest to shower with the mount of curled locks he has.

When he's changed into comfortable, clean clothes, he dries his curled locks as best as he can, but he still doesn't know how to not make it look so wet. He wishes the younger Sol was here to help him with his hair, but she's probably still in debate, arguing with Jiho. (Silently, Bokgi prays that they are on the same team so that he wouldn't have to witness another cold war between the two.)

Muttering his curses, he throws the towel in his duffel and picks up his school bag and heads out the gym after waving goodbye to his coaches and club mates. He goes to the vending machine, purchasing a carton of banana milk and sits by the steps of the school's entrance, sipping on his drink.

From the corner, he notices Yeseul walking from the side and Bokgi does his best to not choke on his milk. He scrambles from the steps and runs away to the corner, behind a wall, peeking over to see Yeseul with a small smile as she walks with a few students. But her smile drops when they bump into a familiar man, hands in the pocket of his jeans, a smug smirk on his face.

Ko Yeongchang was back.

The students next to her gaped, for the first time seeing this ulzzang in person. Bokgi can't make out their words, but Yeongchang throws his head back, mouth wide open and eyes crinkled. From the way the students are looking, Bokgi suspects that he must have told them Yeseul is his girlfriend. Yeseul's face plasters a shy smile, but her eyes speak otherwise. Her eyes bore uncertainty, the same way that Bokgi remembers from this morning.

Yeongchang's arm slipped around Yeseul's back, his hand grabbing onto her arm. For a split second, Yeseul's eyes flashed pain, but it was quickly covered with her usual sparkle and light as she gave a light laugh. Bokgi's stomach churned. Something was obviously wrong, and it was enough to make him feel almost slightly nauseous.

The other students giggled as they walked away, waving to Yeseul as they scurried back to school. As soon as they were out of sight, Yeseul rips her way out of Yeongchang's arms and takes a step back, her hand instinctively going up to grab her other arm. It was enough for Bokgi to infer what was probably going on. Bokgi's anger bubbled inside as he felt the puzzle pieces falling together.

"This bastard..." Bokgi cursed through his gritted teeth. It didn't take a genius to know that Yeseul was being abused by Yeongchang. The way that she shrunk back when his hand reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear this morning. The way her eyes darted when Yeongchang held her arm in a tight fashion.

Yeseul shouts something inaudible to Yeongchang, and they exchange a few shouts. Yeseul is turning around to leave when Yeongchang grabs her bag and spins her around, hand gripping her wrist. She forcefully pulls away, but Yeongchang grabs her arm. The moment he raises his hand up is when Bokgi crushes his carton of milk and shouts. No, he can't see this. Not again.

"Yah! What do you think you are doing?" He shouts in a voice so loud and full of anger, he can't recognise it as his own. He storms over, sticky sugary milk dripping between his left hand as he clutches his carton. He reaches and Yeseul is almost surprised to see him. If Yeseul wasn't there, Bokgi would have said nothing and pummel him back.

"Bokgi-ssi..." Yeseul whispered, almost in surprise.

"Noona, are you okay?" Bokgi turns to ask Yeseul.

"Noona? What, does he know you? When did you know other guys?" Yeongchang asked, voice raised and slightly aggressive.

"That's none of your business. And what were you about to do? Hit her?" Bokgi spat back in anger. His eyes burned with fury as he challenged the taller man.

"Why are you meddling in our business? She's my girlfriend, I get to do what I want." Yeongchang scoffs back, hand grabbing back to Yeseul's arm as he pulls. This time, Yeseul is caught off guard as she hisses in pain.

"Stop!" Bokgi shouts in fury before pulling Yeongchang's hand away. Swiftly, he pushes Yeseul's hand away from the both of them.

"Why are you so concerned? What, you like her?" Yeongchang's eyes are dark and challenging as he stares down at Bokgi.

"Noona doesn't deserve to be treated by a bastard like you." Bokgi seethes with gritted teeth as his fists are balled tightly.

"What? What did you say?" Yeongchang's face contorts to one of so much fury, as he grabs onto the collar of Bokgi's shirt.

"You heard me, bastard."

And that was all it took for Yeongchang's fist to come flying across his face, knocking him to the concrete ground. Bokgi shook his head to centre himself, a hand reaching up to his face knowing a bruise will form.

"Bokgi-ssi!" Yeseul shouts in concern as she bends down, trying to help Bokgi up. But Bokgi only shrugs her concerns off.

"You know, for someone that beats people, you're kinda weak." Bokgi says, a taunting smile on his face. Yeongchang's face grows in even more fury as Bokgi stands up, dusting the dirt of his clothes.

"You—" Another punch comes, but Bokgi has enough playing victim, and he dodges the blow effortlessly. Yeongchang tries throwing an uppercut, but Bokgi is quick to block his arm and land one across his jaw. He doesn't hit hard enough for a bruise, but hard enough to hurt. Yeongchang stumbles back, almost surprised at the power of this high school rebel, but Bokgi stands tall.

Another punch comes, but Bokgi is faster to land one before Yeongchang could land his. Bokgi manages to catch Yeongchang off guard as he turns his arm backwards and pins it against his back. With every tug, Yeongchang is cursing in pain.

"One more word from you and I'll sprain your wrist. Or should I maybe crack your ribs?" Bokgi threatens. "You sick freak, beating up your girlfriend? And you have so many people looking up to you as an influencer?"

"Let go of me!" Yeongchang shouts in anger.

"You know, we have security cameras here, right? And they clearly saw you this morning and just now, raising your hand. They also caught you punching me first." Bokgi brings his lips closer to his ears. "How will that look, hm? A politician's son, on the news of beating his girlfriend?"

Yeongchang is lost, but still squirming. Bokgi slides his foot between his legs, letting him fall to the ground on his knees as Bokgi holds him in a kneeling position. From the corner of his eye, he spots Yeseul with the older Sol rubbing her back and Joon Hwi next to her with the rest of his friends.

"What-What do you want?"

"Promise you won't ever, ever touch noona like that again. If I find out on my own that she's hurt by you..." Bokgi tightens his grip on his wrist as Yeongchang grunts in pain. "Your wrist isn't the only thing that is going to be broken."

Bokgi finally lets go and steps away from Yeongchang, Joon Hwi joining Bokgi by his side.

"Get out. Now." Joon Hwi sternly barks as Yeongchang, still seething with anger, dust the dirt from his pants. He sets his eyes on Bokgi as he stares straight into the brown orbs.

"You...watch out. You'll pay." He says before turning on his heels and walking away, hands running in his hair with frustration. The group joins from behind, as Sol and Yeseul walk over to join. All of sudden, it occurred to Bokgi that Yeseul had to watch this, and he wished a deep pit swallowed him alive in that instant.

"Ah, Yeseul-noona... I'm sorry you had to watch that... I...I'm sorry." Bokgi mutters his apologies. Yeseul shakes her head slowly.

"Thank you for standing up for me. I'm sorry you had to get hurt." Yeseul says softly as Bokgi brings a hand up to his face. It's sore, and he finally tastes the slightest bit of metallic blood from the burst corner of his lips.

"Ah? This is nothing. I have it a lot worse in training." Bokgi shrugs it off. The older Sol hits him on the head lightly as Bokgi yelps.

"A lot worse in training? Do you want us to kill you before you get beaten to pulp? Take care of yourself, Min Bokgi!" Sol scolds. Yebeom passes him a wet wipe to wipe his sticky hand from the banana milk.

"You should get ice on the bruise." Yeseul says as she digs into her pockets for a small container and takes Bokgi's calloused hands before pressing it in.

"It's some ointment for bruises that I, you know..." She trails off. The older Sol just carefully places an arm around her.

"Are you going to break up with him?" Jiho asks, his head nodding in the direction of where Yeongchang left. Yeseul stayed silent as her lost eyes darted, her hand sweeping her hair away. Bokgi doesn't know where he gained the courage from, but he gently places a hand on her shoulder, careful to just let it rest.

"I'll protect you, okay?"

Yeseul looks into Bokgi's soft eyes as Bokgi gives a small smile. Even with a red bruised jaw, a burst lip, this man could still smile at her like an innocent child. Yeseul just nods, drawing a small smile out of her, as she suddenly feels a faith arise in her.

Bokgi might not have been able to protect her from the bruises then. But he will protect her heart and from the bruises now. Even if it means being beaten down countless times, he would protect her, each time.

She was worth protecting, even if she didn't feel the same.

#law school #law school kdrama #jtbc law school #law school netflix #law school jtbc #kdrama #jtbc drama #jtbc #min bok gi #jeon yeseul #bokseul #go youn jung #lee kang ji #fluff #original by akinosakiya

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pendragonsandbuckleys · 3 years ago

Text

Reclaiming that broken youth.

Summary: Michael had made it his mission to relive a small piece of the past with Alex. First he tried with the rings, two chunky black and silver things that he’d claimed had been left at the junkyard during his one of his shifts. Alex had simply joked that they weren’t his style anymore and left it at that.

The eyeliner had been a much harder sell and still Alex had refused.

And now, as he was ambling his way up the driveway, he was starting to think that maybe his third attempt would not be so lucky.

aka. Michael convinces Alex to let him dye his hair.

Word Count: 4,949

[Also on AO3]

Was it embarrassing the number of excuses he’d found to come and see Alex? Yes.

Was he going to stop anytime soon? Not likely.

Nostalgia had been rearing its ugly head again leaving him craving a time long since passed and he’d been coming up with whatever reason he could to justify seeing Alex. Going to his house, or the Project Shepard bunker, or the Crashdown where he just happened to bump into him.

The photo of the two of them had been moved from the cardboard box to the desk along with the few other pictures he treasured of Max and Isobel - he couldn’t make it too obvious after all. But seeing the two of them together like that often made him miss what they used to have. Things were so much simpler back then, until they weren’t.

The problem with nostalgia though was that the feelings weren’t real. They were an echo of what used to be that tended to leave an uncomfortable emptiness the longer you thought about it.

That time had passed and there was no getting it back. Unless?

Surely they didn’t need to be seventeen again to get that feeling back. That soft, carefree feeling that used to settle on their skin as they kissed in the desert.

That’s why he had made it his mission to relive a small piece of the past with Alex. First he tried with the rings, two chunky black and silver things that he’d claimed had been left at the junkyard during one of his shifts. Alex had simply joked that they weren’t his style anymore and left it at that.

The eyeliner had been a much harder sell and still Alex had refused.

And now, as he was ambling his way up the driveway, he was starting to think that maybe his third attempt would not be so lucky.

Three quick taps on the wood brought Alex to the door and he was so focused on the sight of him that Michael barely noticed the smile it brought to his own face. He was in full casual wear, t-shirt, jogging bottoms, matching bed hair sticking up in a perfect mess.

“Hey.” Alex welcomed him with a bright smile. If he was at all surprised to see Michael on his doorstep on an early Saturday morning with absolutely no warning, he hid it very well. His eyes darted over to see where the truck had been parked comfortably on the driveway, before flitting back to Michael.

“I thought we could have some fun.” Michael spoke with a smirk, forgoing any formal greeting, eyes already glistening with mischief. And oh how differently that sentence would have been taken when they were seventeen.

Alex was about to step aside without hesitation when he noticed the box held gently in Michael’s grip. He eyed it warily, already sensing the reasoning for the visit. “What is that?”

“Fun!”

“Um no, I believe that’s called hair dye.”

“Just hear me out.” Michael grinned as he confidently side-stepped his way through the doorway and into the house. “We haven’t hung out properly in a while and we both have the day off…”

Alex shook his head as he pushed the door closed behind him and followed Michael towards the living room. He never would have denied Michael entry, but there was something about him making himself at home that gave Alex a warm feeling in his chest. “See, you keep saying we but I don’t see a box of dye for your hair anywhere.”

“Yeah, well I never had an emo phase, did I?”

“The important word there being phase.” Alex crossed his arms against his chest as he peered down at Michael’s hands again. It was a white box with a bunch of writing on it, but the guy on the front was very clearly modelling the black dye inside. “You know I never actually used to dye my hair back then, right?”

Michael shrugged and waved his hand in the air as if to say whatever, we’re doing it anyway and handed the box over for Alex to get a better look. “You vetoed my other options so I’m stepping up my game.”

Alex watched him closely, noting how he squirmed slightly under his gaze. At first, when Michael had started dropping by a few weeks ago, always at odd hours, always unannounced, Alex had been worried. The ‘hanging out’ excuse could easily have been a guise, an easy escape from any problems he was avoiding and Alex didn’t know how long was best to let Michael hide from whatever was going on.

But seeing him now, wide eyes filled with an innocent sort of playfulness, it looked like Michael really did just want to spend time with him. Even if he did have the most random idea for a pass time. “Why are you so desperate for me to dress all emo again?”

“For…fun?”

Alex chewed his bottom lip to hide the small smile threatening to emerge. “I’m only off work for a week, you know.”

“That’s why it’s temporary.” Michael turned the box around in Alex’s hand and tapped at the words printed clearly on the back. “Three washes and it’s gone.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything, haven’t you?”

Michael wasted no time in getting them set up. He grabbed a spare plastic bowl from the kitchen cupboard, an old towel that Alex didn’t care about dirtying and set Alex’s shower stool in front of the large bathroom mirror.

He should have been embarrassed by how excited he was getting, but he was far too busy being filled with said excitement to care. Against all odds, Alex had actually agreed to do this with very little persuasion required and there was no way he was letting him change his mind.

Alex didn’t interrupt as Michael rummaged his way around the house, finding what he needed and he certainly didn’t show his bemusement at how Michael seemed to know exactly where everything was. And once everything was ready, he took his place in the designated seat, strangely nervous at the thought of Michael dyeing his hair.

Though maybe it wasn’t nerves. He certainly had butterflies, though it could be from the thought of engaging in this teenage sleepover-esque activity. For the boy he liked to come over to his house and willingly run his fingers through his hair for the next hour? Seventeen year old Alex would have done anything for this.

“Right, tell me what to do.” Michael said as he pulled the instructions from the box and handed them to Alex before emptying the rest of the contents next to the sink. He’d probably end up doing it his own way, but he just wanted to give Alex an excuse to stop staring at him as he worked.

As Alex unravelled the instructions a small packet of gloves fell out onto his lap. They didn’t look the sturdiest but it was better than nothing. “There’s the gloves so make sure you wear them,” he said as he placed them next to the bowl.

He gave a quick skim read of the words to get a general idea of what do. There was a lot of writing and he doubted Michael would be patient for long enough to get through it all. “Oh okay, this sounds pretty easy, literally just brush it evenly through my hair.”

Michael nodded distractedly as he carefully fiddled with the lid of the tube. The room wasn’t exactly big and he’d already elbowed a wall with one arm and knocked the empty bowl to the floor with the other. Tripping over the towel had been an added bonus that Alex had enjoyed far too much. He had no idea where this clumsiness had suddenly come from, but now he was being extra careful with everything.

“Put it in gently. We don’t want it going everywhere.” Alex instructed him as he squeezed the dye into the bowl. The coal-black cream squelched as it left the tube and a small drop splattered onto the white tile wall which Michael hastily wiped with the back of his hand. It smeared across the wall at first until he managed to clean it all off.

With everything set up, he clamped Alex’s towel covered shoulders and beamed at him through the mirror’s reflection. “You ready?”

“Go for it.” Alex rolled his eyes at the enthusiasm radiating off Michael. Yep, he definitely felt like a teenager right now.

Michael started out slow. The dye was cool against his fingers as he scooped a blob into his palm. He knew Alex would be able to wash it out almost instantly if it ended up looking terrible, but still, he didn’t want to get it wrong.

He took a breath before reaching for Alex’s hair. Only now did it click just how intimate this activity was for two people who had barely done more than stand a few feet away from each other recently. He thought it would be a bit of fun, getting Alex to dress up in his old high school persona that they both used to love. But now, with the dye in his hand, he realised that meant running his fingers through Alex’s hair. An action that he used to love whenever they kissed. The smooth strands under his fingertips, pulling him closer when he could no longer control his urges.

But they were friends now. And friends dyed each other’s hair, right? Friends helped each other put on makeup or decided outfits if one was going on a date, so doing each other’s hair was no different from all of that.

The strands of hair slid across his palm easily, turning from dark brown to black with a single touch. It felt just as soft as it did ten years ago.

The room was silent as he worked save for Michael’s movements and the occasional hmm from Alex. Michael wasn’t sure if Alex realised that he was making the little noises but he was just glad he was finding it relaxing. The casual glances over Alex’s head and into the mirror showed that his eyes were closed, his lips curled into a small smile.

Michael was surprised by how much he was enjoying it himself. He was used to working with his hands all day, but this was different. Working on the cars was methodical, a heavy-handed muscle memory from years of experience, but this? This was gentle, personal.

It took about as long as would be expected to cover hair of Alex’s length and as Michael moved to the front so he could finish up the fringe, Alex opened his eyes to watch him work, “So really, what’s with all the emo stuff?”

Michael avoided the eye contact as he concentrated on turning the remaining brown into black. How could he explain that he was feeling nostalgic without it sounding sappy?

“It’s probably just some misguided attempt at reclaiming my youth.” He answered as he scooped more dye onto his fingers.

“Okay, but it seems more like we’re reclaiming my youth.”

“Yeah, well, this part of your youth was the best part of mine.” Michael replied without thinking, feeling the heat instantly rise up his cheeks at the honest answer.

The mortification was written so clear on his face that Alex forced himself to hold back a chuckle. They were still working on getting that openness back to their friendship, so for it to come out so easily every now and then was a nice step in the right direction.

“I actually always wanted to dye my hair back then.” Alex spoke up, steering into a new conversation to save Michael’s embarrassment. “It seemed like the next logical step for my fashion choice.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Getting the eyeliner passed dad was enough of a challenge and even then it was something I could take off pretty instantly if need be. I think the dye would have been too much of a risk.”

Michael felt a pang of sympathy for all Alex had to endure back then, he’d seen it firsthand several times all the way up until Jesse Manes’ death after all. But no. They weren’t going to dwell on that today. If they were reclaiming their youth then all unwanted memories were unwelcome and henceforth banned from all thoughts.

He nudged Alex’s shoulder playfully as he moved back to the bowl. “And you didn’t have an expert hairdresser to do it for you.”

“That too.” Alex laughed, rolling his eyes as he heard the sound of yet another blob of dye dropping to the floor, “Though I didn’t expect my hairdresser to get it everywhere but my hair.”

Michael gritted his teeth with a frown as he looked down at the small black splatter, a glaringly obvious stain against the white. “Hey, that’s only the third time.”

He ran his hands through Alex’s hair for the last time, being careful to check that every strand was covered. The dye had already started doing its job beautifully and emo Alex was very much taking hold.

It was as he was stepping back to inspect his finished work did he notice just how much of a mess he’d actually made, sheepishly pointing out to Alex that there was some on the edge of the sink, a few blobs in the shower and it was on the wall in about four different places.

“How the hell did it get there, I didn’t even go near that wall.” Michael exclaimed, utterly confounded at the mess he’d managed to create. Had he been in his own head so much that his hands had taken on a life of their own?

“It’s fine,” Alex laughed fondly as he nudged the bin closer with his foot. “Just put the gloves in there before you touch anything else.”

“…wait, there were gloves?”

Alex turned around this time to look at Michael properly. He hadn’t noticed the lack of gloves on the hands in his hair, but looking at them now he could see they were completely covered not by the plastic, but by a creamy black gunk. Michael had a mischievous look on his face, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he tried not to snigger and Alex could feel himself doing the same. “What is the first thing I said to you?”

“Put it in gently?”

They couldn’t hold back their laughter. Scrubbing his hands removed all but the faint grey tint now dyed into his skin, but Michael didn’t care. Maybe it was all the dye fumes, but it felt like he was on a weird kind of high. Here they were, two boys giggling away like they’d been caught making out in the supply closet at school and in that moment everything felt right with the world.

Leaning back against the sink Michael crossed his arms as he admired Alex’s hair from the front. Even slicked back against his head it was looking good but they still had twenty minutes to fill before it was ready. “So, what should we do while we wait?”

Alex slyly leant over to the bowl, still filled a quarter of the way with leftover dye and waggled his eyebrows impishly at the horrified look Michael was now giving him. “Come on Guerin, it washes out.”

It really was quite a small bathroom with nowhere to run so as Alex stood up to get closer, Michael backed away so much he practically fell into the shower. The laughter returned as he tried to hide as much of his hair as he could with his arms. “Nope. These curls are sacred and there’s no way you’re turning them black. The most you’d ever get on me is the eyeliner.”

Alex gasped gleefully, eyes wide with excitement as he watched it dawn on Michael what he’d just said. He opened the bathroom cabinet and there, at the back of the bottom shelf, was Michael’s latest gift to him. Still unused, he’d only kept it for sentimental reasons, a fond reminder of his past self, but now Michael had no excuse.

“Take a seat.” Alex batted his eyelids innocently as he gestured to the stool he had vacated and Michael had no choice but to comply. He always found it hard to deny Alex anything, but right now, he’d do anything to keep that joy in his eyes.

Alex hadn’t used eyeliner in over ten years. At age seventeen it had taken him weeks to perfect the art without smudging it or poking himself in the eye and when he first joined the military he often missed the soothing action of it. But now, a decade on, he still held the pencil with the hands of someone who would never forget how to use it.

Michael looked up at him expectantly from the seat, a slight tingling rushing through him as Alex held his chin to tilt it upwards. He’d never worn any kind of makeup before, never really had the urge to, but there was always a first time for everything.

There was something quite sexy about Alex knowing exactly what to do, telling him when to look up, when to blink, pressing the pencil down just enough to leave the colour on his skin, but not too soft that it tickled. His hands were very gentle as they held Michael’s face and he felt his mind wandering as he let Alex work.

“Guerin, stay still or it’s going in your eye.” Alex admonished lightly, tongue poking out as he concentrated. He was surprised by how steady his hand was being and he didn’t want to mess it up now.

He gave a few more strokes before stepping away, tapping the pencil against his chin as he admired his work with a grin. An eyeliner-wearing Michael was never a look he’d imagined before, but it sure was a look he was appreciating. It was a subtle change, but one that made Alex want to dress him in a leather jacket and start a rock band with him. “All done.”

Mourning the loss of Alex’s touch, Michael sighed as he got to his feet, knees popping as he stood up and leaned in close to the mirror.

He looked…different. Not a bad different, maybe even a good different. It made his eyes seem brighter and his lashes look darker and the longer he looked in the mirror the wider he could see Alex’s smile getting.

“Alright, I’ll give you this one. It doesn’t look too bad.”

“Right!” Alex was practically giddy as he stepped closer to look at Michael’s eyes through the mirror. Their hands brushed lightly as they both leaned against the sink. “I didn’t think it would look this good, but now I’m starting to wish you’d had this look in high school.”

Michael turned to face him then, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes roamed over Alex’s face. Maybe this whole nostalgia thing wasn’t so bad when you had someone to share it with.

He grabbed the eyeliner from Alex’s hand before he could be stopped and held it above his head with an eager grin as if Alex couldn’t reach it easily. “Your turn.”

Michael had been banished to the sofa while Alex washed out the dye. He’d willingly volunteered to help but Alex wanted the finished look to be a surprise. Not that he could blame him. If it looked terrible at least it would give Alex the chance to kick Michael out of the house before he even saw it.

Not that that would actually happen, Michael had done an excellent job and the finished article would prove just that, thank you very much.

The muffled noise of the shower turning on and off filtered through the walls as he peered around the room. He’d seen the inside of Alex’s house enough times now to know the layout but not enough to know its contents.

The colourful spines of the neat pile of books stood out against the brown of the table they were sitting on. Their titles were too small to read from across the room but it made Michael wonder what kind of books Alex read now. He’d never thought to ask in all the time he’d been back in Roswell. Did he still read fantasy books like the ones Michael used to see him get lost in for hours at a time? Or were they non-fiction, filled with facts about a world that Alex had always longed to explore.

There were a few plants dotted around the room which Michael was nerdy enough to know the names of. They weren’t the type that required much watering though Michael could almost picture a green-thumbed Alex taking care to provide them what they needed.

But taking up most of the space was a whole range of musical items. A turntable alongside a crowded box of records, because of course that’s how Alex liked to listen to his music. A pair of speakers on either of side of his keyboard, a thick black pair of headphones sitting atop the black and white keys. And guitars. So many guitars.

I mean come on, four of them in one room? Alex was practically begging him to pick one up.

Three of them were next to the keyboard, held neatly on their individual stands, but it was the guitar standing alone that caught his attention. It was leaning almost precariously against the wall, looking like it could slide to the floor at the smallest touch but he had a feeling it had been there for a while. It was the one Alex had tried to gift to him all those months ago, after all.

Before he could stop himself, he pushed off the sofa and edged towards the guitar. Its case had been unzipped just enough at the top to show the dark brown wood poking through and Michael didn’t hesitate to unzip it the rest of the way.

Plucking a few of the strings made Michael wonder if maybe Alex had played it recently. It seemed to be perfectly in tune. It had been a little while now since he’d held a guitar, let alone played one, but this one seemed to fit so naturally in his hands.

The faint whirring of the hair dryer could now be heard through the bedroom door and Michael couldn’t help himself. His fingers fell into place effortlessly and played a tune that he once played for Alex all those years ago. It wasn’t hard to remember, it was one of the only songs he actually knew by heart and the muscle memory of the notes hadn’t failed him yet.

As the strings vibrated under his fingertips, the rest of the world fell away, the soft melody filling the room. He’d missed this, the calm that would wash over him whenever he used to play and for a brief moment as his fingers slipped between the C and G chords he wondered why he ever gave the guitar back.

“Suits you.” Alex’s quiet voice interrupted the notes and Michael almost dropped the guitar in his surprise. He hadn’t heard the hairdryer stop, hadn’t heard the door creaking open but the way Alex was smiling at him told him he had nothing to feel embarrassed about.

The smile wasn’t what he was focused on though.

The inky black hair had turned out so much better than he’d ever imagined. The dark strands contrasted his lightly tanned skin so starkly and Michael could tell that he had taken a few extra minutes to style it a little.

His eyeliner was mismatched and uneven - one eye having been done badly by Michael before Alex, fearing the idea of getting poked in the eye again, had confiscated the pencil and finished the second eye perfectly by himself.

He looked like his innocent seventeen year old self.

But also not. His features were matured enough to set the illusion off-kilter just slightly.

He looked incredible.

Michael wasn’t sure when his legs had made the decision to stand up, but here he was, two feet away from Alex, staring at him with his mouth half open. Alex took the silence the wrong way though as he gave a nervous laugh, feeling his cheeks redden.

He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck and the movement knocked Michael out of his daze. He slowly dragged his eyes away from Alex’s hair and down to his lips, watching them form the words as he spoke. “It looks terrible, doesn’t it?”

Had Alex even looked in the mirror? Had he not seen what Michael was seeing right now?

And it’s not even like the hair and makeup changed him that much. He’s looked beautiful the entire time Michael has known him, he just looked beautiful with his old style right this second rather than his new one.

Maybe Michael just always thought Alex looked most comfortable in his seventeen-year-old style, it was a look he had precisely crafted for himself to best represent the person he was. The black jumpers with bold patterns, the makeup, the piercings. It was the look of a rebellious kid who didn’t want to fit in.

His current style was created through circumstance, through being forced to take on a duty that he never chose but has now made his own. And his style was his own now too, the muted colours much more reserved, but still his choice.

But now standing before him was a beautiful combination of both of those people and oh dear, he’s never really stopped thinking about Alex this way, has he? And more important, how long has he been staring at him without saying a single word?

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his throat had gone strangely dry.

“No.” He whispered in reply as he stepped closer, his feet making their own decisions again and he suddenly couldn’t stop himself. In that moment he couldn’t remember why he had been holding back for all of these months when the person he wanted most in the world was standing right in front of him.

He kissed him before he could stop himself, hands gently grabbing Alex’s face, feeling soft lips against his own. It felt like he was seventeen again, kissing for the first time in the darkened rooms of the UFO Emporium but as his hands crept up into Alex’s hair the sound of a distant car horn through the open kitchen window broke through his dream-filled haze and he realised what he had just done.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” Michael stuttered out as he pulled away with a gasp, instantly embarrassed at how impulsive he had been. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed trained on Alex’s chest, not daring to lift them any higher. In one tiny moment of weakness he had broken their agreement and he wanted to kick himself for how stupid that had been.

It had been decided that they would just be friends. No drama, no fighting and definitely no sex. The relationship between them would be strictly supportive and platonic and as much as Michael had longed for them to be something, he had agreed for the sake of keeping any kind of connection with Alex. And turns out, he couldn’t even give him that.

If he had looked up he would have seen the surprise on Alex’s face. Surprise that Michael had kissed him - sure - but more the surprise that Michael had pulled away so abruptly. And far too soon for that matter.

Before Alex could talk himself out of it, he took Michael’s face in his hands and kissed him right back. His heart fluttered as Michael instantly pulled him closer, softer this time, as if they both knew in that moment that there was no rush.

Michael’s entire body tingled, heat filling his chest as Alex lips parted with a tiny breath. He was hardly aware of what his own hands were doing, so desperate to never let go, his knees almost giving out as the rest of the world fell away, leaving them in their intimate, almost forbidden, moment.

As his fingers ran through the soft strands of the freshly dyed hair, Michael was reminded of every other time they had performed this same action, how natural this felt, how safe, like coming home.

“I would have let you dye my hair weeks ago if I’d known that’s all it would take.” Alex sighed as they parted, still only inches from Michael’s face, not daring to move any further lest the spell be broken. He hadn’t seen the day going this way when Michael had turned up on his doorstep with his mischievous grin but he wasn’t about to complain.

Michael gave a small huff of laughter at the unexpected comment, his hands itching to pull Alex closer. He had been wanting to do that for a long time, but he’d been good. He’d stuck to their agreement and given Alex the space to move on, no matter how many times he’d wanted to rebuild that abandoned bridge between them. But it seems the long awaited move had now finally been made and he didn’t have to hold back anymore.

Because here Alex was, black hair, dark eyeliner, standing in front of him with that nervous post-kiss smile that Michael had missed for far too long and now he never wanted to let this moment go.

It seems today had definitely been third time lucky.

Very lucky indeed.

Thank you for reading 💜✨

#roswell new mexico #alex manes fic #michael guerin fic #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #my fic

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