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mcwriting · 4 years ago

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The Marriage Project (1)

Omg I can’t believe it’s taken me THIS long to post this. I wrote this chapter probably in like April or May and it freaks me out to finally post but here it is!

My slow burn (American) High School AU with Tom Holland!

All the general info for this series is on the story masterlist, but I’ll list warnings and word counts on every chapter. Chapters will be much longer than my typical 2000 or less babies

Warnings: This will become a mature story in the future (no smut; more info on masterlist). Some profanity in this chapter

Word Count: 4140 (I told you!)

% approximately the 2nd week of August %

Ah, senior year. One last year of high school, one last year of seeing the people you’ve grown up with every day.

You’ve been told it’s easy. The best year ever. And yeah, maybe it will be. It’s not like you’re taking too many hard classes or overloading yourself with extracurriculars, aside from volleyball, soccer, the National Honors Society, and quiz bowl.

(Okay maybe it was a little much, but you loved it anyways)

The only real problem was the certified thorn in your side, Tom Holland.

He’d essentially been your mortal enemy since the sixth grade when he beat your mile time by only a few seconds.

Now, it’s not that he was a bully or anything, he was just so insufferable to be around. And yes, everyone always says boys pick on girls when they like them, but rest assured that wasn’t the case. You’d both always hated each other, nothing more.

You were always competing, and because of that ended up in the same place a lot.

He was in all your honors classes, in NHS, played boys soccer, and did quiz bowl. The only thing you had to yourself was volleyball except, oh wait, his younger brother’s girlfriend was on the team and Tom was his ride home every day.

All these thoughts raced through your head as you walked in on the first day, sitting down in AP calculus as soon as you finished up at your locker.

Everyone did the “how was your summer?” and “long time no see!” as students filed in. Eventually walked in Tom, and you shot each other a glare as he sat down right next to you.

“Holland.”

“Y/l/n.”

Everyone around you groaned. They all knew you two were forces to be reckoned with and probably dreaded spending another year listening to the two of you bicker everyday.

Though you were often in close proximity, you never really talked much, except to argue. Rarely did you agree unless it was on basic facts, and even then was it hard to admit sometimes.

Because of this, you typically resigned yourselves to only speaking when it came to grades so you could keep a mental tally of who was in the lead. You were both in the running for valedictorian at the end of the year, and you were not about to let Tom win.

The week was almost over and things had gone smoothly for the most part.

Sure, you and Tom had had a couple of spats, but nothing that wasn’t handled quickly.

He’d been to all of your volleyball games so far, even the summer ones, which meant he was forced to watch you dominate the court as both a setter and right side hitter.

It was a nice little satisfaction.

Especially because you’d watched him throw some horrendous passes in the preseason football game last week that led to a loss by one touchdown. (Okay, he’d had some good passes too, but they were lucky shots).

You settled into your seat in senior home economics Friday before lunch. The class was your school’s attempt at teaching some life skills for rising adults. For the most part however, it was a glorified cooking and sewing class. You didn’t mind per say, since you could cook up a pre-snack lunch sometimes.

Most of your friends were in there, including your best friend Alexis, whom you hadn’t seen all morning.

You, Alexis, and two other girls stood around a mixing bowl with the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies since it was a Friday, which Mrs. Flynn called “dessert day.”

“Oh! Before I forget,” your teacher, Mrs. Flynn, started getting everyone’s attention. “This year we’re doing something new for this class! Next week I’ll have you all split into pairs for a semester long marriage project! I will be drawing names out of a hat, so don’t get too comfortable yet. Anyways, be thinking on what kinds of careers you might want and things of that nature! Okay, now get back to your desserts!”

The whole room broke out into chatter the last part of the hour-and-a-half class, people speculating who might end up with who and what jobs they’ll get.

“Oh my God, wouldn’t it be funny if y/n got Tom?” Alexis stated as you stirred chocolate chips into the dough. The other girls laughed as you just snorted.

“Yeah, I’d rather lick the inside of the microwave than be paired up with him for a semester,” you replied, earning more laughter from your friends.

You assumed Tom’s friends were saying the same however, because when you looked over to see how bad their dough looked, he was rolling his eyes as his group pointed in your direction.

The next week came and went, and it was once again Friday. Or, as Mrs. Flynn was calling it, Wedding Day.

Every time she’d pull a couple’s name, she was going to make you both come to the front of the class and exchange plastic wedding rings and sign a fake marriage license.

Yay.

Everyone chattered excitedly as she tore up the strips with your names and mixed them around. Finally the time came for her to start the drawing.

“Okay, friends. First up we have...” she drew the first name. “Katherine and... drumroll please?”

The class drummed their hands over their thighs.

“Chris! Come on down folks, let’s get this marriage on!”

She “married” the first couple, and then continued to draw. You had to admit that you were a little nervous, but still eager to see who you’d get.

Two couples later, she pulled Tom’s name.

You shot him an eyebrow raise to which he returned a discreet middle finger. You rolled your eyes as you prepared a drumroll for Mrs. Flynn.

“And his lucky partner is... y/n!”

“What!” you both exclaimed simultaneously.

Almost the entire class burst into laughter.

“Mrs. Flynn, this has to be a mistake,” you said.

“Yeah, can’t we have a redraw?” Tom asked.

You hated that he was agreeing with you.

“Nope! You get who you get and you don’t throw a fit! And if it doesn’t work out in a few weeks we can discuss divorce plans.”

“How about annulments,” you stated dryly, earning a chuckle from her.

“That… kinda depends on if you have kids,” she trailed awkwardly before perking back up. “Now come on down! They always say your first marriage is the most memorable!”

“Who has ever said that?” Tom asked.

“You know. They. Now just get up here and do the ring thing!” she commanded.

You both sulked up to the front of the room.

“Okay, now stand here facing each other and hold hands.”

“Do we have to?” Tom whined.

“Yes, now do it and it’ll be over with faster.”

He groaned, rolled his eyes, and grabbed your hands, holding them loosely.

“May I have the rings please!” Mrs. Flynn asked Caroline, the girl whose desk was closest that she’d asked to be designated ring bearer. She handed over the basket to let you both choose from the mix.

You took a silver colored ring with a faux white diamond in the shape of a star. Tom chose one with an oval “ruby.” You couldn’t help but notice how every single person was on edge watching the two of you.

“Okay now Tom, repeat after me. I, Tom Holland, take thee, y/n y/l/n, to be my wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

He mumbled through the vow, avoiding eye contact, and slipped your star ring onto your finger. You were surprised at how gentle he was, carefully caressing your hand and making sure the ring faced straight up once it was on your finger.

You, too, said the lines and placed the ring onto his left hand.

“Alright. It is with the power vested in me by this very school that I am proud to now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now air kiss!”

You took a deep sigh and pretended to kiss each other's cheeks.

“Class, I’d like to introduce you all to Mr. and Mrs. Holland!”

They began to cheer and clap and laugh when you interjected.

“Uh, no. It’s Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

Tom began to argue with you when Mrs. Flynn stopped you both.

“Alright fine, we’ll do a combined name. How’s the y/l/n-Holland family sound?” she asked, writing your names on the fake marriage certificate.

With reluctance, Tom agreed to having your name first and you both signed the paper.

Finally you were able to sit back down where your friends were waiting.

“So what was that about licking the microwave?” Alexis asked.

“Oh shut up.”

After your volleyball game (another win!), you and Alexis conversed over cheese fries at your favorite diner.

“Still not ready to talk about today?” she asked. You shook your head.

Alexis had been paired up with Caroline. They were both straight, but you had both been friends with her since freshman year and they got along well.

Today had just been the marriages, and next week you’d be learning more about your family dynamics.

“I’m just so pissed at him. This afternoon in senior art he told all the guys in there that he was going to make it as hard as possible for me. I mean jokes on him, he’s going to want to get an A too, but he was just so smug about it. He also strung his stupid ring on that necklace he’s always wearing. What’s that all about?”

“I mean you’re still wearing your ring. But yeah, that is a little weird.”

“I’m wearing mine because compared to some of the others, the star is actually cute.”

“True. I got unlucky with the selection,” Alexis admitted, digging hers out of her purse to show you a big square blue gem.

“I just wish there was a way to get back at him after all these years. I mean, we’ve been at each other’s throats for almost six years but nothing has ever seemed to really hit hard. This is the last year I’ve got to really make it count.”

Alexis gave you a look, one you knew to be quite mischievous.

“You know what’s the best way to get revenge on a guy?” Alexis asked.

“Uh, no, but by the look you’re giving me it seems to fall under Carrie Underwood ’before he cheats’ directive.”

“No, dumbass. You make his family fall in love with you.”

It took a second to process what she said before you could give a decent reply.

“You’re kidding right? His family already knows who I am because of all the stuff we’re in together. They probably also know about our rivalry. I mean, he’s told his brothers to never become friends with me.”

“And you know that, how?”

“The libero is Sam’s girlfriend. She’s been spilling tea for me for the past year.”

There was a break in the conversation as the waiter brought your meals out. Once he was gone, you spoke up again.

“Look, do you really think that would work? I mean sure I’d get under his skin, but it doesn’t really constitute revenge, does it?”

“Look at it this way,” Alexis put down her burger so she could splay her hands out in front of her. “If you can get on everyone else's good side, they’ll all talk about how much they love you and he’ll be forced to listen. If he really hates you, it’ll drive him crazy.”

You thought on it for a minute as you chomped on a chicken tender.

“Alright, I’m in. If it doesn’t end up working, I still have all of next semester to mess with him anyways. Now if I can just figure out how to really get to know his family…”

By the time Monday rolled around, you and Alexis had done some more scheming, but your plan wouldn’t even begin to be put in action until your volleyball games Wednesday and Friday, when you’d try to talk to Sam.

You sat down in home ec, where today you’d be picking careers. The catch, however, was that your family unit would have a set income, so each couple had to decide how it would be split up.

“Y/l/n-Holland family, you’ll be making $200k a year,” Mrs. Flynn announced, handing you the slip of paper. “Get together and decide who’s getting what jobs.”

“At least we’ll be rich,” you thought as Tom plopped into the seat next to you unhappily.

“So I’ll be the doctor and you’ll be the trophy wife, right?” he asked immediately.

“Hah, good one. I think we all know that I’m the smarter one here and wayyyy more likely to get into med school than you. And don’t call me trophy wife. I mean, what, you think I’m hot now? Can’t wait to tell everyone that little number.”

His ears turned beet red and he balled a fist.

“I don’t think you’re hot, except maybe hot shit. It’s a figure of speech.” he spat.

“Oh get over yourself. I know I’m hot anyways. Let’s just both pick jobs that earn $100k so we can be equal. How’s that sound?”

“Fine.”

He played with the plastic ring on his necklace as you looked up jobs on the computer. After a half hour of searching, Tom and you decided that to be fully equal, you’d both take the same job as physician’s assistants.

“Just so you know, I’ll never actually be anyone’s assistant,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Ten years time if you’re lucky I’ll hire you as mine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Hey everyone, since class is almost over, we’re gonna wait to draw how many kids you’ll have and other financial things Wednesday. See you then!” Mrs. Flynn called out as students packed their things.

“We have to have kids, too?” Tom asked incredulously.

“Good thing it’s fake. I’d hate to see you as a parent,” you shot smugly, earning another middle finger from him that left you laughing.

Wednesday came kids, and thankfully all you got were twin girls, age 9. The project didn’t make you carry around flour babies or anything like that, you just had to account for them in your weekly budgets.

There goes the annulment plan, though.

Each week, Mrs. Flynn would be drawing something new for you all that would either be good or bad for your budgets, and it was up to you to figure out what to with the funding, or lack thereof. You also had to come up with a story each week that explained why money was put somewhere or what your “family” did that week.

She would also be doing progress checks, so you couldn’t wait until the end of the semester to do all the work. By the end, each couple would have to give a presentation over what they did and learned.

“Okay, so we each get to name one. That’s pretty equal,” you stated, thinking up baby names.

“Well I like Elizabeth,” he almost immediately replied, writing it down on one of the “birth certificates” you’d been handed by Mrs. Flynn.

“That’s… surprisingly good. I’ll go with Francesca. What about middle names? I like Rose.”

“Hm. How about Opal? Then they’ll have the same number of letters in their names.”

You were surprised at how much though he put into this, but let it go as you wrote your child’s name down.

“By the way, we need to plan time to get together and write a budget and find a house this weekend. I have a volleyball game Friday so how about Saturday?”

“I have football practice Saturday.”

“Well yeah but only until like 10 right? We could just meet at like 1. We’re doing construction at my house right now so could we do it at yours?”

You spoke sweetly in an attempt to receive a yes and put your plan into motion. Tom sighed and thought about it.

“I mean I guess. But you’re only going to be there to work on the project and then leave right?”

“Uh, duh. The less time with you the better.”

“Likewise.”

Tom and Sam weren’t at the volleyball game Wednesday, so you had to wait until Friday’s.

Friday was muffin day in home ec, so you thankfully didn’t have to talk to Tom. Instead, you and Alexis discussed the plan of getting Tom’s family on your side as you mixed up batter.

Later that afternoon, you watched from afar as Sam and his girlfriend, Julia, sat on the bleachers speaking. It was still an hour until game time and coach had asked you to round up the girls for stretching.

“Hey, Jules!” you called, jogging over to where she was. “Oh, hey Sam!” He looked at you like you were crazy before responding.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He gave a slight head nod.

“Anyways, coach wants us to start warming up. Wanna be my partner today?”

“Um yeah. Sure. See ya later babe,” she said, giving Sam a quick peck on the cheek before standing up to follow you.

After another win, you were helping take down the net and noticed Julia once again talking to Sam while Tom stood a few feet away looking bored.

“Hey, could you wrap up the net? I need to do something real quick,” you said to another teammate as you headed over.

“Hey, Jules! Solid digs today! You were making my job way too easy,” you joked.

You could see from the corner of your eye Tom look up at you in annoyance.

“Ahaha thanks girl. But I can’t take all the credit. You were on fire tonight. What was that like 15 aces? And your hits? Incredible,” she replied.

“Yeah, you were amazing tonight,” Sam added.

“Ohhhkay we can stop the compliment parade on y/n now. We need to go anyways, Sam, mom wants us home,” Tom interjected, putting an arm out in front of his brother, who was rolling his eyes.

“Alright fine. We still on for dinner tomorrow?” Sam asked his girlfriend. She nodded and they exchanged a quick hug and kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow too, Tom,” you said. “I’ll bring my laptop.”

Sam looked at him in confusion.

“Yeah whatever,” was all Tom could say to you as you strutted off to the locker room.

You stood nervously on the front porch of Tom’s suburban home. You had texted him when you parked but now dreaded actually going inside.

After shifting back and forth for a minute, you finally rang the doorbell.

It was only a few seconds later that the door opened, revealing Sam’s twin Harry. He looked confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Harry. Tom and I are supposed to be working on a school project today and he said to come over at this time so...” You awkwardly shifted your backpack straps and looked down.

“Tom! Someone’s here to see you!” he yelled out, making you snort.

He appeared shirtless in the doorway and looked at you blankly.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me? What did you just forget that we have to work on our project today,” you replied, holding up your left hand to point to the plastic ring on it.

“You’re still wearing that? Why?”

“Firstly, the little star is cute. And secondly, you don’t have a lot of room to speak, Tom. Yours is still on your necklace,” you pointed to the chain around his neck, to which he instinctively reached up and grabbed the ring, twisting it between his fingers.

“Touche. Now come on, let’s just get this over with.” He opened the door wider and let you in, locking it behind you.

As he led you down a hall covered in photos towards the stairs, his mom stepped out, almost running into her son.

“Oh, sorry.” she looked at you, “Y/n? What are you doing here? It’s nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Holland. Tom and I have to work on our home ec project and we couldn’t do it at my house.”

“Oh dear just call me Nikki. And I do remember him mentioning something about a project. Are you the one he’s married to? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Tom tensed up and clenched his jaw while you gave a light chuckle, holding up your left hand again.

“I hate to say it, but yeah. You’ll probably be seeing a lot more of me throughout the semester.”

“Well you kids have fun. And Tom, honey, would it kill you to put on a shirt?”

He went red again and you had to stifle your laughter.

“I was just on my way to do that, mom. Come on y/n,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you up the stairs.

You turned and waved at Nikki one last time as she called up behind him,

“And make sure to keep the door open!”

He was totally embarrassed by that, and made it a point to shut the door behind him once you made it to his room. Finally you could let out a hearty laugh at his expense as he dug through his drawers and pulled out a simple black t-shirt.

“Finally. I was getting tired of looking at your man boobs,” you quipped, looking around the room.

“Ha ha. Good one,” he shot back dryly.

You were surprised at what his room looked like, though you didn’t know what you’d expected. It was very neat with sleek grey walls. His blue and grey bedding was made up with decorative pillows laid out. On his desk were a few random school papers and a computer, and one shelf held some Spider-Man paraphernalia while another contained medals and ribbons and trophies.

You dropped your backpack to the ground and pointed up at one figurine.

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” you said sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think so,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, no. I’m serious. It’s actually really dope.”

He looked taken aback at your compliment, and even to you it felt weird to be saying that out loud about Tom of all people.

“Oh. Well uh. Thanks. Spider-Man was my favorite growing up. But let’s just get to work.”

After an hour of sitting on his carpet searching for a house and arguing over general money allocations,

“Yes Tom, tampons actually cost like $7 for 30 of them and most girls need at least one box a month. And that’s just one factor of personal hygiene. Do you even condition your hair?”

“I’ll have you know my hair is well moisturized. I just don’t ever have to pay for it.”

You finally came to an agreement on the week’s budget.

Packing up your things, you looked up at Tom who was now sitting on the side of his bed scrolling through social media.

“So next week. Your first game of the season, yeah?” you said, remembering that September was already almost here.

“Oh yeah. You coming? I’d hate for you to see just how incredible I am.”

“Psh whatever. I saw your throws at preseason. But yeah, I’ll probably just rinse off after my volleyball game and head to the field. Gotta see what cuties they’ve got on the other team.”

“Ugh gross. You know you’ll regret saying that when half the school is swooning over me in the stands.”

“The only thing you’d ever see me swoon from is dehydration. And that’s a pretty weak excuse already.”

You stood and Tom got up to lead you back out.

“Oh, I think I know the way. You don’t have to take me.”

“Yeah I do. Gotta keep my eyes on those grubby little fingers of yours. Who knows what you’d do unsupervised.”

Before you reached the door, Nikki spotted you from the living room.

“Done so soon? Wow, good job guys. Come back any time y/n!”

“Thanks, Nikki,” you called back to her, then turned to Tom. “So same time next week? We can do it at my place if you want.”

“Nah let’s just do it here. I’m always exhausted the day after a game and I don’t really want to get up.”

Okay then

“Well, see ya Monday then. Bye.”

You were halfway down the sidewalk when Tom called out, “Be safe,” before shutting the door. You stopped in your tracks in shock, but eventually got into your car.

What really mattered, though, was that you were already on Nikki’s good side.

1 down, 4 to go.

Yay! It’s finished! I really hope you guys enjoy this new series because I’m so excited to share it with you all! Once again, future chapters will have some mature content (s*xual harassment and mentions of assault; underaged alcohol consumption) but those chapters will be explicitly labeled with warnings.

Anyways, thanks for reading and please send an ask or message if you’d like to join my story or permanent tag list!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #enemies to lovers #slow burn #Harry Holland #sam holland #tom holland au #high school!au #high school!tom holland

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writingwithciara · 5 years ago

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Silent Auction (2) ~Topper Thornton~

summary: Kildare County High School decides to have an auction to save the arts programs. all the students are up for grabs and y/n is purchased by the least likely person. her worst nightmare. her nemesis. someone who doesn’t even attend the school.

word count: 2k

pairings: topper x reader, jj x reader (platonic mostly & a slightly one-sided romance)

warnings: fluff, enemies to friends (kinda)

a/n: behold, the 2nd & final part to ‘Silent Auction’. enjoy!

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“Will you calm down? It’s just a date. Nothing’s gonna happen.” y/n smiled at JJ. He wasn’t happy that his best friend was being forced to go on a date with the one person everyone in the group hated.

“I know. But it’s with Topper, of all people.” the blond boy continued to whine as he followed y/n around, helping her get ready, even though he didn’t want to.

“JJ, I know. I don’t want to do this either. But like I said, it’s just one date. It’s not gonna kill anybody.” she giggled at the pout he was currently sporting. “And besides, he saved the arts program for years.”

“I hate the arts program.”

“Ahem! Excuse me?” she narrowed her eyes at JJ and he looked anywhere but her face. “The arts program is my favorite program.”

“I know. But you’re good at it. I am not, hence the reason I don’t like it.”

“I’ll give you lessons tomorrow if you stop whining about my date with Topper.”

“Hmmmm....nah. Not worth it.” he smiled and plopped himself down on the couch.

“God, I hate you so much.” she shook her head in disappointment and went to her room to change. Topper was gonna be there any minute to pick her up and she had spent the last 15 minutes arguing with JJ.

Topper walked up to the front door, nervously. His palms were sweaty and he wasn’t prepared to be wowed by y/n. He knew what he did to the Pogues was shitty, and that she hated him for it, but he had never directly been rude to her. The things he did were the cause of her hatred towards him and he regretted it. Topper really liked y/n and he needed to make it all up to her. So, when he finally knocked on the door, he was shocked to see JJ standing on the other side of it.

“Um, hey. Is...is y/n ready?” JJ just ignored him and left the door open. Topper walked in and slowly closed the door.

“JJ, can you come up here for a second?” y/n called down to her best friend, who stood up and glared at Topper before going upstairs. “I need your honest opinion on my outfit.” she sighed and turned to face JJ.

“You look great, y/n. Honestly.” he smiled and leaned against the door frame. “He’s downstairs by the way.”

“Shit. I haven’t even done my makeup yet.” she started rushing to get her makeup done. JJ walked over to her and grabbed her hands. “JJ, what are you doing?”

“You look fine the way you are. Trust me,” he sighed. “Topper’s gonna love it.”

“Thanks, JJ.” she set her mascara down and took one final look at herself before going downstairs. Topper stood up from the couch when he heard her coming.

“You look....wow.” he smiled and noticed JJ standing behind her, giving him an intense stare.

“Thanks, Topper.” y/n blushed and turned to look at JJ, who quickly changed the look on is face to a softer one. “You going home or are you gonna stay here for a bit?”

“I’m gonna hang back.” he smiled and returned his gaze to Topper. “I’ve got a few rules for ya, buddy. First off-”

“JJ, calm down.” y/n giggled at the fact she had to restrain her best friend from continuing. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know. But you’re my best friend. I care about you and want to make sure he knows.”

“I love you.” she smiled and headed to the door.

“I love you too,” he smiled sadly as he watched them walk out to Topper’s truck. “Take good care of her, Topper. She’s my best friend.”

“I will. Don’t worry.” he yelled out the window before driving off. JJ headed back inside to sulk and think about his own problems.

Y/n and Topper headed to a restaurant, with the intentions of having a nice meal. But when they got there, the woman at the front desk had informed them that their reservation had not been recorded in her book.

“Well, this sucks. I wanted to give you a night you’d actually like.”

“It’s fine, Top. We can go anywhere.”

“I know. But you’ve never eaten here before and I wanted to make this night special.”

“IF it makes you feel better, fancy and expensive dates don’t impress me. If you want to make this night special, just be yourself & don’t try to use your money to make it special.”

“Okay.” he smiled down at the girl. “I think I can do that.”

“Awesome. Now, follow me. I had a feeling something bad was gonna come out of the date but, that’s okay.” she grabbed his hand and they began to walk downtown.

“So, what’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I have a passion for art & I have a few connections at the art studio downtown. So, I begged Mrs. Capron to give me the keys to the studio and she did.” she smiled and held up a pair of keys. “I only did this just in case.”

“So, you anticipated something bad happening to our date?” he chuckled.

“Well, yeah. You’re a Kook and I’m a Pogue. They’re not meant to be together at all.” she looked up at him. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I��m not mad. You’re very right.” he smiled. “Now, let’s go to that studio.”

They arrived at the studio only moments later. Y/n unlocked the door and turned on the lights.

“What should we do first?” she asked and watched as Topper looked around in amazement.

“I’ve got an idea. Sit on that stool over there.” he pointed to the stool and looked around. y/n sat down and Topper grabbed a canvas. “I’m gonna draw you.”

“You’re gonna draw me?” she laughed. “Are you any good?”

“You’ll see when I’m done.” he smirked. “Now, pose.”

“Okay.” she found a comfortable pose and looked off into the distance. “How’s this?”

“Perfect. Now, just hold that pose until I’m done.”

“Not a problem.”

She held the pose for nearly two hours before she was instructed to come look at his artwork.

“What do you think?” he asked. “In my honest opinion, I don’t think it does the real you any justice.”

“What are you talking about? It looks amazing.” she stared at the drawing in bewilderment. “You got my hair right and everything.”

“I tried my best.” he smiled and stood up.

“I had no idea you were so good at art.”

“I’ve been working on my art since I was a kid. Of course, my parents would never approve of it, so I’ve been doing it in secret since I was 7. Why do you think I spent so much at the auction?”

“You need to share your talent with the world, Topper. This is amazing.”

“I have more at home, if you want to come check it out sometime.”

“How about now?”

“What?”

“We can go now. Mom’s out with her friends so she won’t get mad.” he smiled. “Come on.”

“Okay. But I’m keeping this and I gotta lock up.” she grabbed the canvas and the keys before going outside.

The short trip to Topper’s house was full of talk about art and life. Y/n smiled as she realized that Topper was a completely different person when he wasn’t with his friends, specifically Rafe. When they pulled up to his house, he rushed around to open her door for her.

“Thanks, Topper.” she smiled and grabbed his hand. They walked into his house and went up to his room. He reached into his closet, pulled out a large box labelled ‘Top Secret’ & unlocked it.

“Inside are all my artworks over the last few years.” he slid the box over to her as she sat on the end of his bed. Y/n looked through the box.

“Topper, you’re....” she looked up at him with a grin. “You’re amazing.”

“Thanks.” he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve showed these to.”

“Really? Not even Rafe knows about these? He’s your best friend.”

“I know, but if he knew, he’d definitely make fun of me for it.” he walked over to the balcony and sat outside. Y/n set the box down and followed, taking a seat beside him.

“Topper, you shouldn’t be ashamed of this talent. Art is a fascinating subject and not many people realize that.” she smiled and looked at him. Topper was looking out at his backyard. “If Rafe really was your best friend, he would appreciate that you’re talented.”

“You’ve got a point.” he sighed. “But it’s not him I’m worried about. It’s my mom. She’s always on my back to be perfect and in her eyes, an artist is not perfect.”

“She’s stupid.” she looked at her hands. “No offense.”

“None taken, really.” he chuckled. “So, I’m gonna change the subject and ask you a question.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“What’s going on between you and JJ?”

“Me and JJ?” if y/n had been drinking, it would have been shot out of her mouth. “What makes you think there’s something going on between me and him?”

“You’re always together & I heard him say he bid on you. It’s also in the way you act with each other.”

“Oh. Well, we’re not together. He’s just been my best friend for a long time. He’s practically a brother.”

“Well I think your ‘brother’ has a thing for you.” he smirked and nudged her shoulder.

“No he doesn’t.” she shook her head and thought about it. “Ew..gross. Nope. I can’t even think of him in that way.”

They both shared a look and laughed. The time they spent together was different than they both expected.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.” she smiled.

“Does this...feel different?” he gestured between them. “Like, have you been having as much fun as I’ve been?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” she smiled. “You know, you’re way different than I expected. You’re not a complete asshole.”

“Thanks.” he smirked. “You’re....you’re just as I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“I already had you figured out since day one. You’re a beautiful, intelligent and kind girl. You know how to make others feel happy and safe. Everything you say sounds sweet. And I don’t think there’s a mean bone in your body.” he smiled. “You helped me finally realize that being an artist is nothing to be ashamed of and I think I’m gonna show my work to my mom.”

“I’m proud of you, Top.” she smiled and hugged him. The hug lasted a little longer than any hug she’s shared with her friends. Topper smiled and pulled back to look at her. Y/n suddenly felt insecure under his gaze and started touching her face.

“I-is there something wrong with my face?” she sighed. Topper reached ip and moved a strand behind her ear.

“No. You’re perfect.” his gaze flicked down to her lips, and what he thought was a quick move, was definitely caught by y/n as she mimicked the move. “Just...absolutely perfect.” he smiled and started leaning in. She met him halfway and their lips molded together perfectly. When they both pulled apart, the look on their faces spoke volumes.

“Wow.” they both sighed with happiness. Y/n rested her forehead against his and smiled. “Why did we wait so long to do that?”

“I don’t know. But now that it’s happened, I don’t want to stop.” Topper smiled and placed another kiss on her lips. “I think JJ is gonna hate me for macking on his girl.” he chuckled when she smacked his arm.

“Not his girl & don’t worry. I’ll talk to him.” she smiled and leaned back in. The feelings they felt were running wild but neither of them cared. Not even of what their friends were gonna think. All that mattered was that the two of them were happy. This was it.

tags:

@spilledtee @im-a-stranger-thing @ameeravandijk @jellyfishbeansontoast @obxmxybxnk @http-cherries @ijustreallylovethem @maggiesrandomness @softstarkey @poguesgold @jjouterbanks

#topper thorton x reader #topper obx #topper thornton #topper x reader

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aracaeli · 4 years ago

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The Sign of Three

NOTE: Merry Christmas @elfchensdcartblog from your DCMK secret santa!! I’m sorry for posting it at the last minute possible, I should probably have said Happy New Year instead. Here is my humble gift to you. Also, I’m sorry for not writing it with the accent. Regular english still gives me trouble and I’m not sure I’m capable of writing it right. Big thanks to @dcmksecretsanta for hosting he event.

I’m really rusty, but actually making this gift is more fun than I imagined. I forgot how soothing writing can be. Please forgive any mistake I made, happy reading! ^^

----The Sign of Three----

“You know, this is a very bad idea.” Heiji said to Kazuha for the sixth time that day. He’s practically sulking by now. On default, Heiji is not a big fan of malls. Much less going to a mall two days before Christmas. Suffice to say, the place was packed. People are everywhere. There’s people who are getting their christmas shopping late, young couples celebrating christmas together, or just some rando who had the bright idea to come to the mall near christmas. The mall even blasted out “We Wish You a Merry Christmas'' in every speaker on loop. Heiji swears if he finds the person responsible for that song that guy will have to answer to him.

Kazuha however is chipper as ever. She ignored his comment and instead was busy looking at toy displays in front of her while whistling along on the christmas song. Heiji wouldn’t even be here if Kazuha had not dragged him out. Heck, he wouldn’t even leave the house if it weren’t for her. His plan is to stay at home and do some reading, maybe go out for a bit to get food, but that’s it.

Kazuha apparently had other plans for him. She insisted on making him come with her to her class christmas event today and accompany her to do last minute shopping for the kids. Apparently the school wanted the students to celebrate Christmas by making a christmas event where the kids can play and exchange gifts. Only, the actual event is two days early from christmas because the kids will be celebrating with their own family on the actual christmas.

The idea is stupid. Heiji said as much.

He gets smacked in the head for that. Heiji had tried to lie his way out, but Kazuha immediately saw through him.

And that’s another weird thing about Kazuha lately. They had been married a while, but Heiji was sure that her changes only occurred recently.

Lately, she seems to become more observant. She often notices small things that she didn't notice before. Normally if someone moved her pen when she was away, she wouldn’t notice, but now she was able to tell the exact distance of the pen’s displacement.

Another weirdness is, she woke up by the slightest noise. Before when Heiji had to stay late because of work, he was able to get to their bed without waking her. Now Kazuha is awake when he cracks the door open. If Heiji made a noise, she was able to tell exactly what was causing the noise, even if she was two rooms away. Heiji didn’t know what was the cause, it’s not like it’s the first time he saw that kind of ability. He had good ears, so does his father. What’s weird is that Kazuha suddenly developed one, too.

Maybe it was contagious?

Heiji shakes his head, chasing the ridiculous thoughts away. Despite Kazuha being weirdly observant, Heiji managed to secure an awesome gift for her, in his humble opinion. The subject of his musings is still shopping happily, uncharacteristically unaware of his thoughts.

Kazuha is still looking at the display. But now she has already moved to the far end of the store. She picks up the toys one by one and assesses them carefully, as if it was important evidence on a crime scene. After a while, she held up a toy truck in front of him.

“Do you think Mikoto-kun would like this one?” Kazuha asked, holding a red toy car that resembles a fire truck.

Mikoto is one of Kazuha's students in elementary school, who Heiji really doesn’t like. Mikoto, like most the boys in her class, had a crush on Kazuha-sensei and wanted to marry her when they grow up. Nevermind that Heiji visited the class and told them that Kazuha was already married to him.

In response to that information, Mikoto--who had the smuggest face for someone barely older than a toddler-- just looked at him from top to bottom, face clearly displaying unimpressed. “Oh well, we’ll see about that.”

The audacity.

Not caring what the brat would get for Christmas, Heiji answered shortly, “He’s a kid, that’s a toy. The math suggests that he would be thrilled.”

He thought she would get annoyed with him, but his wife just shrugged and went back to shopping. In the end, she made a decision and took the toy to the counter to pay for it and told him to wait for her. Heiji watched her with a suspicious gaze, wondering if what meets the eye is really the truth.

Heiji thinks it’s weird that Kazuha invited him to the event. While it’s not the first time he has come to her class and participated, it was always such a disaster. Considering what happened when he was present, he should be banned.

In his defense, it was the brat’s fault. Everytime Heiji comes to pick Kazuha up, he will ‘accidentally’ step on his foot. Kazuha makes Mikoto apologize to him of course, but the boy apologizes with a sleazy grin not fit for a child. One time, when he visited Kazuha during class, the brat ‘accidentally’ poured paint all over his shirt. Heiji tried to get back at the kid, but as if sensing his petty intention, Mikoto immediately cried.

Worse, Kazuha never sided with him. She came and comforted the kid while Heiji had to watch the kid buried his face in Kazuha’s chest while giving him the smuggest smile known to humankind. He had to bite back a curse.

Another incident that popped in his mind is when Heiji cursed in her class, in front of the children. It was actually quite comical, the children had simultaneously stopped what they were doing and looked at him in shellshock, Heiji stood awkwardly for a minute. He was about to make a run for it. When one of the kids decided that what he had done was unacceptable on so many levels and tattled on him to Kazuha.

Kazuha had put him on time-out as if he was five despite his protest to her.

“I can’t play favour, Heiji. It’s not a good example for the kids” Kazuha said sternly while putting her hands at her hips. Long story short, he lost the debate.

He had to sit in the hallway to think about what he did while the other children peeked at him curiously from the window.

One kid even booed at him.

Yeah, it was not his proudest moment.

While he was reminiscing, Kazuha came back from the cashier, carrying one more bag in her hand. She didn’t have any trouble carrying it, but he decided to perform his duty as a good husband and took the bag from her hand. Beside, this way her hand would be free for him to hold.

Chiding himself for being sappy, Heiji linked their fingers together in a loose grip, suppressing the blush that always comes despite already being married to her. But Kazuha was having none of it today as she tightened her hand.

Kazuha leaned closer on him. Their arms linked together and her nose almost brushed his shoulder.

“Let’s go upstairs.” Kazuha said, leading the way. As they walked side by side, she broke the silence.

“Did you finish your christmas shopping?” Kazuha asked. The mall was crowded and loud, so Heiji really had to pay attention to hear her.

“I did. Finished it weeks ago.”

“Including my gift?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a living thing?”

“No.”

“Is it a nonliving thing?”

“We’re not playing 20 questions!”

Kazuha pouted. She bit the inside of her cheeks and turned her face away from him. Giving Heiji her side-view. And suddenly he finds himself resisting the irrational urge to kiss that protruding lips in public. Fortunately, unlike with the case of Fairy’s lips, he still had common sense left.

“I think I know what you get me.” Kazuha said suddenly.

Heiji gave his wife a skeptical stare, surely she was just bluffing, afterall he went through a painstaking measure to make it a surprise. He even draws a murderboard, which he hides in Kudo’s house, much to the latter dismay.

“No you don’t.” Heiji sneered.

“Hmm let’s see now,” Kazuha put her hand to her chin, mimicking his favorite pose when solving a case, complete with a smile, which may appear innocent at first but completely devious.

“I know that you suck at handcraft. And I don’t see you working at anything, so it can’t be handmade. You said it was a non-living thing, so it can’t be a pet. Judging by how quick you are in answering my question earlier and the fact we have a joint account, it’s unlikely to be a trip or a dinner.”

Heiji started to sweat. Is this what the suspect always felt whenever he made a show of his deductions? Still, Kazuha is not done yet.

“The fact that you finished weeks ago means you had planned it for awhile. You’ve gone to Tokyo for a suspicious amount of time, it can be unrelated to gift-buying, but my instinct said it was very related. But it’s weird that you go so far just to shop, there’s plenty of places here where you can hide your gift. That suggests the involvement of an outside party. Probably a delivery. Which means…”

Kazuha added a dramatic pause.

“....it was custom-made.”

Damn. What’s gotten into her?

Still, Kazuha went for the kill, “The fact that you’re giving it to me, big chance it was a jewelry. Probably a necklace. Since you had no sense when it comes to women’s fashion, the one you custom it’s not probably the design. If my deduction is correct, that necklace would have my initial.”

Heiji completely avoided looking at her. Somehow his pride is trampled over her deductions. He had plans after all. The only solace he had was Kazuha doing all of that is kinda hot. So he let it pass.

“Am I right?”

Heiji shrugged. “I don’t know, you had to wait.”

Kazuha gives a little happy jump, almost knocking a lady that was passing by them.

“I can’t wait for a necklace with a ‘K’ pendant to come.”

Heiji nodded along with her statement. The pendant that he ordered is actually spelled ‘K.H’, since Kazuha had officially become a Hattori now. He decided to let her little mistake in detail be left uncorrected and changed the subject.

“Can we go now? I think this place is getting more packed.” Heiji said, and true to his word, someone bumped into him. Said person didn’t even apologize and just walked.

“Hold on, I still need to buy one more for Chika-chan.”

“Huh? I thought it was a secret santa.”

“It is, but I’m buying a present for all of my students in the class.”

Heiji frowned. “Why? Isn’t that a bit much even for you? You’ll see them again next year.”

He felt her getting tense. She was looking straight ahead but he can tell that she was carefully masking her face as casual indifference.

Shrugging her shoulder, Kazuha answered, “I just want to make this year memorable.”

Heiji observed her face carefully for any clue, but sensing his curiosity, Kazuha looked back at him and feigned a smile. Deciding to not pursue it further, he noted this exchange and kept it in Kazuha’s folder, a place in his mind palace where he keeps anything related to Kazuha that he finds odd or weird. That folder had recently become thicker and thicker.

“Let’s go up one more floor, I think I see a store selling hair accessories.” Kazuha said quickly as she pulled him along by his hand to the elevator direction. Heiji followed along.

She accidentally stumbled on her steps. Delaying them for a few seconds. In consequence of that, they missed the elevator. As the door closed with a resounding ding sound. It was like a butterfly effect, the world just decide what he needs today is a murder.

If only they got on that elevator, they would have missed the shrill scream of a person discovering a dead body.

But unfortunately they did.

Knowing that scream everywhere, Heiji felt his detective sense alert in an instant. But before running off to the source of the commotion, he looked at Kazuha first, wordlessly asking for her permission.

Kazuha sighed, smiling softly, “Go”.

Heiji gave her a cheeky grin. He handed her the shopping bags to her. Since both his hands are free, he had the chance to strike a cool pose before running off by gripping the edge of his hat and pulling the cap to the front.

“I’ll be back.”

------------------------------------------------------------

In the span of time for one call to the police, five interrogations, and one person broke down crying later, Heiji managed to gather the suspects in the back of the store. The body is found in a clothing changing room. A man in his late thirties, wearing casual jeans and polo shirt. The corpse had been found laying on his back, half his body leaned on the mirror. Eyes wide and mouth wide open. Although there is no blood.

The store owner had been very helpful in aiding his investigations. She closed the crime perimeter and helped gather witnesses. Even though she initially insisted that the man just had a heart attack, until Heiji pointed out the signs that he clearly is poisoned.

Heiji was busy doing his usual detective work that he didn’t really notice that Kazuha hadn't shown up even after thirty minutes had passed since they heard the scream.

Heiji was about to search for her, already worried that something happened to his wife. But as he was about to walk away from the crime scene, Kazuha catches up with him, completely unaware of his worry. She even brought a drink in hand and casually sip the cold liquid from the straw while looking around the crime scene curiously.

“Solved it yet?” She asked. Slurping the boba tea.

Heiji was momentarily distracted by the movement of her lips. Shaking the unwanted thoughts away, he looked back at the corpse.

“Not yet. So far, here’s the situation. Someone is found dead in the changing room of this store.” Heiji gestured towards the corpse.

“No blood.” Kazuha remarked.

Heiji nodded. He feels weirdly proud that she participated in the case. He resisted the urge to pat her head, “Exactly. Death by poison.”

“Cyanide?”

“No, arsenic.”

“Who do you think did it?”

“Well, I figured out the trick, But I’m still not sure who did it.”

Kazuha nodded solemnly. Still slurping her drink. Her gaze turned towards the three people standing behind the store owner who were looking at them the whole time. The three men are the main suspects for the case. Heiji told them to stand far enough so they can’t overhear his conversation. Heiji was sure the culprit was between the man with glasses and the tall one. Although he had no evidence or any defining clue.

“The guy with the glasses seems suspicious.” Kazuha said. Leaning close to whisper in his ears. He instinctively take a step back. Typical of Kazuha to annoy him with her stupid breath and her slurping when he was in the middle of a case.

Heiji snatched the drink from her hand.

“How is he suspicious?” He asked, only half-interested in her answer.

“Look at the inside of his wrist.” Kazuha said confidently at first, but she suddenly turned hesitant and quickly shrugged “But, I don’t know though, you’re the Detective.”

Reluctantly, Heiji followed Kazuha's advice and focused on the man in glasses hands.

Wait….that mark…

“I know who the killer is.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour and half later, they finally manage to get out of the mall. Heiji was sure that they were already late to the event. Thankfully, there was no traffic on the way, so they made it to the school ground less than ten minute later. The event hasn't started yet. Most of the kids were still playing around, although Kazuha’s coworkers had pulled out various games and an assortment of christmas themed sweets out.

When Heiji and Kazuha enter the classroom. The children cheered. Immediately, she was surrounded by her students. They formed a circle around her and tried to get her attention. Looking at the spectacle before him, Heiji can’t help but note that Kazuha is really good with kids.

Heiji put their bag on the gifts table. He searched for an empty chair to sit on. Heiji found one in the back of the room. He sits down on one of the chairs beside the low round table. Heiji was so focused that he didn’t notice someone approaching him.

“So you came.”

Heiji turned to the source of the voice. But he didn’t see anyone.

“Down here”

He looked down and his stare met with Mikoto’s gaze.

“Hey”

Mikoto only grunted. The kid pulled the chair across him and sat down. He slouched on the chair while looking around the room with bored eyes. Heiji noticed that his eyes landed on a little girl with a pigtail who was excitedly chatting with Kazuha. He looked back at the kid and the girl.

Heiji was a very observant Detective. The best in Japan. Despite what neechan said. That’s why the blush on Mikoto’s face didn’t go unnoticed by Heiji. He gave a small sigh. Kids these days, so easy to move on from one crush to another.

“Do you like that girl?” Heiji asked. One eyebrow raised suggestively. He deliberately didn’t gesture on the little girl across the room.

Mikoto looked scandalized, suddenly sitting straight with face flushed red. “What! No! Who likes Chika!?”

Heiji grinned. “I didn’t say anything about Chika-chan.”

Mikoto was about to defend himself. But no words come out. All of his face was flaming red to the tip of his ear. The blush even went up to his ears. In the end, he settled to look away instead. Sulking.

“So…” Heiji began, finding the opportunity to tease the kid highly amusing. “Do you think Chika-chan cute? What’s her deal?’

Mikoto crossed his hand in front of his chest, “She’s not cute! She’s stupid!” he stated, too loud and too defensive to be true. Some of the kids and one teacher had looked their way due to commotion.

“Hey, stupid is a bad word.” Heiji chided.

Mikoto was about to protest. But somehow decided against it and mumbled a low “Sorry.”

Seeing the kid actually reminded him a lot of someone. Although Heiji can’t quite recall who. “Here’s an advice, if you like her, don’t pull her pigtails.”

Mikoto, once again, flushed red. As if he was just caugh red-handed. “I don’t need your advice, I bet you also pulled Kazuha-sensei’s ponytail.”

Heiji laughed. It’s actually happened. The scene of their younger years flashed before his eyes. Kazuha used to have pigtails too when she was young and the sight of her hair swinging around as she walked always seems cute and endearing to him. Although back then he had no idea what the feeling blossomed in his chest was.

Young Heiji never made the connection between the flutter of his heart and Kazuha’s presence. Once Heiji even thought he had heart problems. His mother laughed when he brought his concerns to her. Shizuka had said that he was healthy as a clamp and had nothing to worry about. To his embarrassment, it took him ten more years to finally understand he was in love with Kazuha.

“What are you boys talking about?”

Both of them turned around simultaneously, only to find Kazuha standing behind.

“Nothing,” Mikoto said. Kazuha looked at the two of them suspiciously. “Mikoto-kun, you should join the others. The game is about to start.”

Mikoto sends Heiji a distress signal to help him get away. But Heiji feels no remorse as he shrugged his shoulders in total betrayal.

“Mikoto-kun.” Kazuha said again, voice more stern. In the end, Mikoto sighed and walked away from the couple. Joining the merry and fun of his friends in the center of the room.

Kazuha sat on the empty chair that Mikoto left, staring at the crowd in a somewhat somber gaze, “He reminds me a lot of you.”

Heiji immediately defended himself, “What! I am nothing like that brat.”

“You two seemed to get along, though” Kazuha said.

“No, we’re not. He hates my gut. Apparently he used to have a crush on you.” Heiji added, “And just so you know, those little accidents that he did, are not an ‘accident’.”

Kazuha laughed. “I know. I just wanna show how ridiculous you are, getting jealous of kids.” Heiji opened his mouth, but she cut him off, “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Heiji blew a harsh breath. Looking around at the happy kids around him, the christmas decoration is exquisite, and the cookies smelled delicious, even from when he was sitting.

“Why do you insist I come anyway?” Heiji asked. Although he probably knows the answer. With how observant Kazuha is lately, maybe she noticed that he’s not having such a great time at work.

But his wife is always able to surprise him. “I’m pregnant.”

Heiji gaped at her as the world turned into a standstill. Voices become mute and he swears the earth stop spinning.

Kazuha...is pregnant…

Kazuha is pregnant.

He heard the words clearly. But the meaning didn’t actually register in his head. Kazuha is pregnant? With his child….

There’s another human being that he will be responsible to. Someone who looks like him. Or maybe Kazuha. Maybe a well-behaved kid like Chika-chan or a brat like Mikoto.

What would he do if his kid makes bad choices? Or become too reckless like him?

He could feel his panic rapidly growing by the second. The thought of bringing a human life in this world is downright overwhelming. Kazuha might be good with kids, but he is not. What would he do with one? That’s easy, he should feed it. Oh God, what did you feed a kid? What does a kid even eat??

As if sensing his rapidly growing panic, Kazuha called his name. “Heiji,”

When there was no response, Kazuha grabbed his hand that was laying on the table. The contact startled him. His eyes turned to her.

“We’re gonna be fine, Heiji.” Kazuha added, “Beside, I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I want to focus on raising our family.”

Suddenly, it made sense. Why she wants to make this year christmas with her class so memorable. The way she is acting so weird recently. There’s only one thing he can’t figure out, thought….

“I don’t get why you suddenly become so observant, is that another side effect of pregnancy?”

Kazuha stared at him in bewilderment, “What are you talking about?”

“You! You were suddenly very observant. Like a detect--” Heiji stopped mid-sentence, he abruptly stood up from the chair, knocking it backwards. As if he just received the meaning of the universe, he exclaimed:

“Oh God, our child is gonna be a detective!!”

A/N: And thus, Heisuke is doomed since he was a literal fetus to be a detective by his father.

There’s a local belief in my area that when a mother is pregnant, how she behaves is influenced by the child’s personality. So if a woman often gets angry during pregnancy, that means the child is temperamental, so on. Halfway writing this, I realized that it might be too weird and specific, so I ended up rewriting it into a more general trope. Although dumbass me misread the fact that Kazuha is elementary teacher-to-be, not elementary teacher. Still, I hope you accept this as a humble sort-of-headcanon to your Heisuke AU.

I actually really like the concept of the AU, I had to refrain myself from liking and reblogging all the posts because then you would have easily figured out that I’m your Secret Santa (lol). Can’t wait to see your next works. Good luck and Merry Christmas! ^^

#dcmksecretsanta #my fic #I think the last time I write anything is BNHA secret santa three years ago #this is surprisingly fun #imagining Heiji in ridiculuous situation is my jam #I will never live down the fairy's lips case #that was exhausting

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bluebellhairpin · 5 years ago

Text

Pay to Play

Bruce Wayne X Pre-Batmom!Reader

A/N: I actually need the new Batman movie (Robert Pattinson) right now. Please. - Nemo

Warning(s): Alcohol. Get’s a little steamy, but this is me. It’s not bad. Kinda NSFW so, idk.

Summary: You liked parties, but not the cheap office ones. You’d even prefer bar pool than office parties, so that’s what you do. When strangers come up and ask to play, what better way to win than to take their money too? Especially if they’re Bruce Wayne.

Listening to: ‘Dirty Diana’ by Michael Jackson - ‘I have the stuff that you want, I am the thing that you need.’

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Despite your love of parties, work gatherings were something you never looked forward to. At least you didn’t work in an office. You heard office parties were boring. Which is why, about an hour into the yearly work party, you sulked off unnoticed and went down to the bar that was two blocks away.

Apart from the fact it was planted in the middle of Gotham, it was a nice place. There were old posters and postcards all along one wall, while the wall behind the bar itself was completely mirrored. There was a divider at the back that segregated the two pool tables, and off behind the bar were four smaller rooms for ‘meetings’.

At this time of the day - seven-thirty - there were only a few people seated at the tables.

You made quick work of ordering your drink, then took one of the pool tables as our own. You were always good at aiming, making bets on pool games easier, and also making your ‘other job’ easier too.

By nine-thirty, two of the ‘meeting’ rooms were occupied, as with the other pool table - a group of giggling college kids. Most spots at the bar were taken too, along with more tables. Over the past two hours, three people - haughty men who didn’t know how to lose gracefully - had challenged you to games of pool.

You became three-hundred dollars richer, and the night was still young.

Another man approached, however this one wasn’t one you were unfamiliar with. Shining blue eyes, broad shoulders, wearing a dark suit and a smile you knew all-too-well. Well, you’d never met Bruce Wayne personally, but after the last week-worth of nights, you’d recognize that smile and those eyes anywhere. The question was, did he recognize you too?

“Fancy some company?” he asked, leaning on the side of the pool table as you shot, balls clacking together as you looked up at him. This was going to be fun.

“Fancy losing some money?”

“Oh,” he said, quirking up an eyebrow, “Can afford to pay for your drinks?”

“No,” you shook your head smiling, “You pay for the company.”

“Funny, you don’t look like a prostitute.” he said, lips moving into a smug grin.

“Oh no, I’m not one of those.” You moved around the table, shooting a shot, putting three balls in one go. “If you wanna play this with me, you pay. You win, you get your money back and a free game after. You loose, you scram and I get the money.” You lent on your cue, smiling up at him innocently. He walked over to the cue rack, taking one of the larger ones, and pulled out a wad of hundreds.

“Enough for you?” he said, a glint in his eyes that told you that, yes, maybe he did know who you were after all. You nodded, smiling wider.

“I better get another drink.”

By twelve, you’d beaten him at almost as many games as you’d lost. But at least you’d both loosened up. He’d ditched his suit jacket and tie, while you’d discarded your jacket and shoes. He did look good, all focused with his shirt sleeves rolled up and cheeks tinted pink from all the drinks. He had a permanent grin on his face, and you noted that right before he shot the balls, he’d bite his lip in the cutest way.

You weren’t sure you looked that good playing pool, but the fact he was the fourth guy that joined you made you think you mustn’t look too bad.

He shot again, missing any of the colored balls, and sinking the white one instead. You erupted in giggles from your perch on the stool you’d dragged over about an hour and a half ago, and he sent you a pout, fishing the white ball from under the table.

“C’mon (y/n), cut me some slack. You’ve been pushing me all night.” he punctuated his last words, stepping closer until he was about a foot or so away. You looked up at him, tilting your head.

“What, can’t keep up?”

“You’ve been saying that all night too,” he started, blinking slowly at you, “I know only one other person that says that to me.”

“They cool?”

“She’s amazing.”

“Pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

“Smart?”

“Super, with a quick mouth to match.”

“Sounds like a catch. If I didn’t like someone else so much right now I might even go for her myself.” He blinked slowly again, tilting his head much like how you did earlier, a cheeky smile reaching his lips.

“They cool?”

“He’s the best.”

“Handsome?”

“Breath-taking.”

“Strong?”

“I’m pretty sure he could take on Superman if he wanted to.”

“If I were you, dear (y/n), I’d snatch him up before someone else could.” You sighed, dramatically laying a hand over your chest.

“Oh, but he’s so committed to his work. And he out of my league. And he’s so damn heroic. He’d never have the time for someone like me.” He stepped closer as you spoke, subtly moving between your legs with a quiet chuckle.

“He might be able to make the time. For someone like you it shouldn’t be hard.” he said, nudging your nose with his as one of his hands came to rest on your waist, the other still holding his pool cue.

“Hey hey.” You said, placing a hand on his chest to halfheartedly push him away, lips pulled up at one side. “What about that other ‘amazing’, ‘beautiful’, and ‘super-smart’ gal? Gonna ditch her for little me?”

“I think you know that the other ‘gal’ is still you. Don’t you, Valentine?” Bruce said, taking your hand from his chest to press a kiss to it.

“Maybe.” you said, drawing out the start of the word with a hum, “But you might have to prove it.”

In no more than a moment, his hand had released yours, weaving his fingers through the hair at the base of your head to pull you close and flush to his chest. His lips were slow against yours, warm and inviting and oh-so-delicious even with the taste of the bar’s whiskey tainting his tongue.

He sure as hell had enough practice to kiss this good.

You could feel his touch everywhere. Your lips, jaw, waist, back, arms, legs, stomach. It was intoxicating in a way that no alcohol could replicate.

And his smell. Oh god, he smelled heavenly. If you were sentimental you might’ve thought he smelt like home.

But like all good things, it ended too quickly.

A wooden crash sounded, and your realized both his hands were on you, sacrificing holding up his pool cue to touch you more.

“Hey, you two! You wanna get all frisky, you take it outside!” the bartender said, frowning at you both and your compromising position. You let out a snicker as Bruce smiled.

“Look’s like your times up rich boy.” you said, pecking his lips one more time, pushing him away as you slid off your stool.

“Don’t just up and leave, not again.” He caught your hand in his before you went too far.

“But it’s my specialty.” He gave you a pointed look, stepping closer again.

“At least let me walk you home.”

“Do you not trust me to walk myself home?” you said, voice soft as you squeezed his hand and letting it go.

“I do,” he groaned, “But after tonight I don’t know if I want you away from me.”

“Keep it in your pants Wayne.” You said, smiling cheekily as you backed towards the door to outside the bar, “At least until I see you next.” He was craving you, as you were him, but you much preferred to play around a little first.

Most people had to pay to play, but now Bruce earned being able to play for free. And man, was this going to be fun.

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #Bruce Wayne x batmom #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #batman imagine #batman one shot

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autisticbee · 5 years ago

Text

What, no ring?

Master Frown twirls spaghetti around his fork, the only joy (ha.) being watching the strands break. He's known to be a complainer but this is without exaggeration the worst spaghetti he's ever had, it doesn't even slightly compare to what he and Brock can make at home.

"Dude, are you not gonna eat that?" Brock eyes his plate like it's not too much of an abomination to even call food.

Frown's brow creases even more. "Nope." Without any further words he shoves the detested plate to Brock's side of the table.

Brock shrugs. "It's not that bad, not that good either but not that bad." He shoves a fork full of the discarded meal into his mouth and Frown isn't sure what to make of the fact he keeps thinking about how that fork was in his own mouth a few minutes ago.

Stop being weird, brain. He thinks to himself.

"I dunno why we even had to come here, their food is shi-" Frown cuts himself off realising there are kids at a table nearby and then internally scolds himself for being soft and to stop letting Unikitty, or Brock for that matter, rub off on him. "-Garbage."

Brock stifles a laugh. "C'mon, eating out once in a while is cool, I don't wanna cook alllll the time."

"Well, maybe I do." Frown crosses his arms in petulance. "We don't even have the money for desert, which is the only good part about eating in a stuffy place full of too many happy-dappy people." He glares indiscriminately around the room.

Brock rolls his eyes. "Whatever man, just, stick it out for a little while longer, Okay?" He asks, pleadingly.

Frown keeps his glare for 3 seconds, before heaving a heavy sigh. "Fine. But we are getting dessert."

"What? You just said we don't have the money-"

Frown waves an arm wildly. "Gimme a second, I'll think of something." He has like 2 cents so yeah, he's broke. Could order something then not pay but then they'd get banned and maybe he'd do that on his own but Brock would be pretty peeved off because for some reason he actually likes this place sooooo-

He leaps up from the table, a slightly maniacal smile on his face. "Ha! I got it."

"Got...what?"

"The perfect plan to score free dessert."

"Oooh, fake a birthday?"

"What? No! no one falls for that anymore." Yeah he had kinda used that one to death.

"Then....? Can you kinda hurry up I need to pee."

"Wait, you're part of the plan you can't go yet." Frown reaches across the table and grabs Brock's hands in a vice grip. "Fake. Proposal." He whispers.

"Um, I don't know...how about we just go home now and I can make cookies, my treat!"

"Dude, we could get like the most expensive dessert on the menu! People love all that sappy stuff, especially people who work at restaurants." He leans back into his seat and sticks out his tongue in (faux, not that he'd admit) disgust.

Brock glances at the menu nervously. "It does sound really good. Aren't you worried something like that could get back to the doom lords though, pretty sure that'd damage your image."

"Pffft. It won't, even it did I'd just tell them the truth and we could have a good laugh about it. Look I've been really good with minimal complaining today, can't I do a little something to tip the balance to the other side?"

"Okay, but I'm not taking the blame if they figure us out, this is the only good place we're still allowed into."

"Yeah, sure." Frown loudly screeches his chair back, drawing the attention of various patrons. "Play along." He whispers to Brock before standing up on the chair. "Brock, baby," He pitches his voice a bit louder. "Will you marry me?"

Brock feels unexpected heat in his cheeks and wills it to go away. "What, no ring?"

"Uhhhhhh." Frown rubs the back of his head. "It's...taking longer than expected to get it engraved...?"

"Then maybe you should have thought about that before proposing? Kind of a let down."

"The ring isn't important!"

"Oh wow, if that's how you feel about it I'm not sure I should say yes."

Frown face-palms, willing Brock to remember the plan. "Can we not argue before we've even had dessert." He says pointedly.

"Oh. Oooh, yeah you know what you're right it doesn't matter, so yes, I guess."

"You guess?" This was not working out well, why the heck did Brock have to get so into it?

"I think I'm just still kinda hungry, also I still need to pee and it's making me cranky, heh that rhymed." Brock smiles to himself. "Uh-Anyway, 'course I'll marry you, who else is gonna be by my side."

Frown tries to ignore how that almost sounded genuine, and plasters on a fake smile. "That's great, go to the bathroom and I'll order us something special."

He notices a waiter approaching as Brock gets up and practically runs to the closest toilet. "Hey can we have Ultimate Desse-....oh nooooo, I seem to be out of cash." Frown says in a dramatic tone.

The waiter rolls their eyes. "It's on the house, for the sake of your poor fiance."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!" Frown sulks back into his chair.

By the time the order arrives, which makes Frown cringe at how it must have been prepared for quite a while to come so quick, Brock has come back to the table.

In theory every dessert on the menu mixed together sounds great but in actuality it's a monstrous mix of ice cream and chocolate and cheesecake and bananas and...gingerbread? And jelly and sprinkles and it just...

"Wait, you don't even like sweet stuff." Brock points out, the 'except for my cookies' is left unsaid.

Realisation hits Frown like a brick.

Brock just looks uncomfortable. "I don't think I can eat all this, why did we want this again?"

"I don't know." Frown bangs his head against the table top.

______________

"That was pretty impressive I've got to admit."

"I made myself eat half of it and then I threw up." Brock clutches his stomach as they enter their apartment. "All that mess..."

"Uh yeah! That's why it was so impressive, think of how much longer the person who has to clean that up will have stay after work." Frown tries his attempt at evil laughter, which in the past has earned mocking from his fellow doom lords.

Brock collapses on the sofa. "I can't think about it anymore, I just wanna sleep for like ten thousand years."

Frown fits himself in the gap at the free end of the sofa. "Does that mean I can have the TV to myself?"

"Go for it man, just not too loud."

But Brock starts shifting about on the sofa, which Irritates Frown too much to let him watch tv. "What's wrong with you?"

"I can't get comfy, and my tummy hurts." Brock whines.

Frown rolls his eyes. "Come here, dork."

Brock does as told and Frown motions for him to rest his head on his lap. "Hey that's no way to talk to your fiance." He giggles then regrets it as his stomach jolts.

Frown starts rubbing his stomach, it's not really something entirely out of the usual for them both but for some reason things this have started seeming more and more intense. "...You're never gonna let that go, are you."

"Nah." Brock grins lazily, the motion making him want to sleep even more. Frown's rarely soft with anyone but him and he'd be lying if he said he didn't sorta revel in it. Brock wonders for a moment what would change between them if earlier hadn't been a ploy for free food, what it'd be like if they actually got married. They basically bicker like a old married couple already and they even kiss every night.

Just not, you know, in a romantic way.

They just kiss on the lips every night in a totally platonic bro way. Yep.

Brock leaps up, startled by a sudden revelation.

"Hey what the heck, you need to puke again or something?"

"No! Just decided I'mma head to bed, haha."

"Oookay." Frown stares at him strangely. "Want me to tuck you in and-"

"Nope! I'm good!"

"Thought you couldn't sleep without your nighty-"

"I'm good! Goodnight!" Brock rushes off to his room and slams the door.

"That was weird." Frown stares at the closed door for a minute, feeling oddly disappointed, then he shrugs and turns up the TV.

________________

"Whoa, look at that." Brock points to poster on a nearby building. "Free vacation."

Frown raises an eyebrow, and reads it closely. "Yeah, for couples. And it's a competition in the unikingdom, ew."

"Well...what if we...pretended again?"

"What?" Frown baulks. He did consider the idea himself but wouldn't have imagined Brock being the one to bring it up. "Why?"

"We could never afford something like that, plus you could always like, tell Unikitty it was fake after the holiday and that would make her pretty sad maybe?"

"...I'm listening." Frown pauses in thought. "We'd have to play it up more."

"By play it up more do you mean holding hands orrr french kissing?"

"I don't know! just whatever it takes." The blush on Frown's cheeks could in fact ruin his reputation and he needed it stop like right now, There's no reason to blush about the idea of kissing your best friend on a more...intimate...level like a teenager with a crush.

Because obviously he doesn't have one. "When does this thing happen anyway?"

"In about, twenty minutes." Brock squints at the poster. "How long has this been here?"

______________

"Where the heck is everyone?" Frown glances around the empty gymnasium that was supposed to be the setting for the vacation competition.

"I hear crying behind that curtain on the podium." Said crying abruptly stops.

Frown rubs a hand down his face. "Oh boy."

There's a quiet like the lull before a storm before a pink and glittery blur flies out from behind the curtain. "OHMYGOSH THERE'S ANOTHER COUPLE HERE PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE NOT FAKE-" Unikitty cuts herself off and glances down at Frown and Brock. "Oh it's you two...Master Frown if you're here to ruin this you're too late! Everyone was a bunch of fakers." Unikitty bursts into tears.

Frown groans. "No, we're here to enter your stupid competition, buuuut since no once is here I guess we win by default."

Unikitty's tears stop again. "Whaaa? You guys are TOGETHER? LIKE REALLY TOGETHER?! SO THAT PROPOSAL RUMOUR WAS TRUE!"

Frown scowls. "How do you know about that." Great, now they really needed to put on a ruse.

"I have my sources." Unikitty says mysteriously. "I am sO HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS OH MY GOSH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME HELP YOU WITH THE WEDDING OH! WE COULD THROW IT IN THE UNIKINGDOM MY PEOPLE LOVE A WEDDING-"

"Uh, Unikitty, the competition?" Brock prompts kindly.

"Sorry, sorry! I can't help it I just looooOve weddings, ahem, I can't just let you guys win, Hawkodile needs to make sure you're the real deal because everyone who else who came earlier were just pretending to be a couple, can you believe it! It's so sad." Unikitty pauses to suck in a deep breath. "But I'm sure you're not lying, I always knew there was a thing between you two." She winks.

"Since when-Ow!" Frown glares at Brock after getting jabbed in the ribs.

"Dude, you'll blow our cover." Brock tries to subtly whisper, despite being a bit taken back too. Sure they're close but did they really give off that vibe? Or was that just because of Unikitty's rose coloured glasses?

"Princess, do I really need to test them? They're obviously faking! I mean, it's Master Frown." Hawkodile gestures exaggeratedly at Frown.

Frown creases his brow. "When did you get here."

"Yeah but it's also Brock! We can trust him." Unikitty looks pleadingly at Hawkodile.

Brock winces.

"Ugh, fine. But they're gonna have to pass the quiz of true love to convince me." Hawkodile crosses his arms.

"That's a ridiculous quiz name." Frown tries to ignore the fact he's started sweating.

"You're ridiculous!" Hawkodile turns his gaze to Brock and points a finger at him. "You!"

"Yeah...?" Brock tries to keep a neutral face.

"What's Master Frown's favourite colour?"

Frown bursts out laughing. "Oh come on that's an easy one-"

"Black?" Brock speaks tentatively.

"WHAT THE HECK DUDE YOU KNOW IT'S BLUE." Frown shouts.

"Wait it is? I just thought black would be your thing because darkness and all that sort of stuff."

"Blue is the colour of sadness and tears!" Frown pouts, aghast that that they had failed on the very first question.

"Hmmm." Hawkodile strokes his chin. "Okay, Frown you're up."

"Huh?"

"What's Brock's favourite video game?"

"Uhhhhh, the dead one 7?"

"Are you serious?! Don't you remember me saying how I had to wait out in the rain to get a hold of dawn-breaker 3 and that it was all worth it because it was the greatest game ever?"

We are not getting that trip. Frown thought, as Brock looked ready to cry.

"Guess I was wrong about you two." Hawkodile speaks.

"You were? I mean, uh yeah you were." Frown fakes confidence.

"Yeah, anyone actually faking would have memorised each other's favourite things too well, like they had only just found out that day, and tried to look like the perfect couple but clearly you guys have some issues."

"No kidding." Brock turns away from Frown with a 'Hmph.'

Unikitty, who had been unusually quiet for the last few minutes, flies around and groups up Frown and Brock into a hug. "Yaaaay, I'm so happy you guys didn't let me down, HEY! If you get married at the beginning of next year you could use this holiday as your honeymoon!!! WOULDN'T THAT BE AMAZING."

"Get off." Frown struggles out of her grip, leading to a short fall to the ground. "Ugh."

"Wait, why did you say next year?" Brock asks in befuddlement.

"Didn't you read the poster? The vacation is for next year! This competition was kindaaaa a last minute idea what with valentine's day coming up and all and it turns out that everything was already booked up for this year...sooo..." Unikitty sets Brock on the ground gently.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" Frown screams, face down on the floor.

"It's still better than never, right?" Brock laughs nervously. "Sorry bro, I must have missed that part..."

"She did write it in really small print." Hawkodile points out.

"Shhhhhh, thanks for your help Hawkodile! But I need to discuss something with Master Frown and Brock in private please."

Hawkodile squints, turning to leave. "Uh, okay. I'm watching you, Frown."

Frown gets up, dusting himself off. "Can we leave now."

"Hang on." Unikitty pulls out a piece of folded up paper. "While you two were busy with Hawkodile I decided to write down some wedding planning ideas!" The folded piece of paper unfolds into a very, very long list.

"Well, I would really like to hear your ideas, Unikitty." Brock smirks at Frown.

"I should have just stayed on the floor."

_______________

"Did you seriously have to listen to every single one of her hare-brained ideas in excruciating detail?" Frown gestures wildly, standing in front of the TV.

Brock moves his head to the side, trying to see and continue playing his game. "You really hurt my feelings, you know how important gaming is to me." Brock exits the game in frustration as Frown moves to block him even more. "I thought we had gotten better at this communication stuff since...you know..."

"And you know how important misery is to me! You couldn't even remember my favourite colour." Frown glances down at the ground. He knows he's being childish...but he's naturally defensive.

"That's not the same thing, this is a huge part of my life! One day I could be one of those gamers that wins those like huge tournaments and bringing in the big money! And then we could live in a huge awesome house and wouldn't have to worry about landlords, or the rat infestation we can't afford to deal with or-"

"Hang on, you still see us living together even if you became a big shot gamer?"

"Duh! Look we've been faking a lot of stuff but I meant it when I said 'Who else is gonna be by my side', you're always gonna be a part of my future no matter what happens. I just wish you'd support me more..."

The guilt Frown had been pushing down for this entire conversation pushes it's way out at the sight of Brock's sad eyes. "Look...I'm sorry, okay? You're right, I just expect you to go along with my schemes and then I don't support you enough with what you wanna do, I'll...work on that." Frown rubs his arm.

"I mean, you did support with that holiday thing, and there was cheerleading thing..."

"...Maybe, you should do the cheerleading thing again sometime, you were pretty good at it and it could be a back up plan in case the gaming falls through."

A small smile appears on Brock's face. "You really thought I was good at it?"

Frown rolls his eyes. "Uh, yeah. You were awesome. Uniform suited you too-I mean, yeah, pretty good."

Brock contemplates on if he should risk saying something, to test the waters for a whole other kind of thing I wants to ask. "I thought you looked pretty cute in the uniform too."

Frown splutters. "I-I'm not cute! What are you even-Cool and handsome maybe, but cute? Seriously?!"

Despite his protests, Brock notes how Frown's face is turning incredibly red. "Nah, you're definitely really cute."

"Yeah?! Well, you're really handsome, so there." Frown's head screams a chorus of WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING.

Brock stifles a laugh. "Was that supposed to be a comeback? You think I'm handsome? Oh no I'm so hurt." This time he can't stop the laughter and doesn't even mind the pink on his own face.

Frown scrunches his face up. "Whatever! You realise Unikitty is never gonna leave us alone now, it's my worst nightmare." He walks over to the couch and sits down next to Brock, quietly fuming.

Brock coughs to clear his throat. "I mean...there is a way we could stop that happening in the long term."

"Like what?"

"She just wants to help us plan our 'wedding' right? As soon as that's over it'll be back to the usual."

"Which is never going to happen since a wedding is not actually going to happen, how does that help."

"What if it did?"

"What if...what did?"

Brock taps his hands together, focusing on them. "What if we got married, like, for real."

"...You've lost me."

"Think about it, we kiss every night-"

"That's just to get you to sleep."

"-We have baths together-"

"It saves time!"

"-We've even shared a bed before-"

"Look sometimes I just get really cold, and it saves on heating in the winter."

"What I'm saying is, it's already like we're married, and if we were actually married we could get the benefits that come with that too. It makes sense, right?"

"Like one of those platonic marriages? Between bros?"

Brock sighs. "Is that how you feel? I just thought-Never mind."

It dawns on Frown that all the confusing thoughts and feelings he's had for a while now, proved that was in fact not how he felt at all. He'd been trying to deny it the whole time but truth is... "No. I kinda...enjoyed pretending we were together, we didn't do much but just knowing people thought that-" Thrilled him, didn't seem like the right words. "I might be...in love with you or something." He refuses to look at Brock.

"Phew, that's a relief. Pretty sure I'm in love with you too, dude."

"Oh." Still stubbornly not looking.

"C'mon, look at me." Brock reaches out and cups Frown's face, turning him to face him. "I love you."

"Oh." Frown repeats, in a much softer tone. He's not really good with words, more so with actions, he leans in without thinking.

They've kissed many times before, but they were always brief pecks and without overt romantic intentions. Because of that, it's still a fairly light kiss but with more passion, more feeling given into it.

"Mmm." Frown finds himself moaning as Brock pulls away. "That was embarrassing." He mumbles.

"Nuh uh, that was great. I like kissing you."

"Stop, this is already too mushy. Hey, is that why you ask for one every night?"

"Huh? You don't remember?" Brock asks, clearly perplexed.

"Remember what?"

"When were kids, and I had my first sleepover at your house but I couldn't sleep because Mama used to kiss me on the cheek every night, so you offered to do it-"

"Ugh, yeah. You never specified where so I kissed you on the mouth and you said I did it wrong."

"And youuuu said you weren't my mom so 'Of course I'll kiss you different, silly'." Brock mimics the high pitch child's voice he can still hear in his mind.

Frown groans. "Don't remind me, I was a weird kid."

Brock snorts. "Weird adult too. Also really sweet, I mean you're still willing to give me a nighty-night kiss so you're not as bad as you like to make out."

Frown gasps. "You take that back! I'm a menace!"

"Oh yeah, sure. A real menace who gives his best friend tummy rubs when he's sick, kisses him before bed, and who just said he's in love with me."

"Yeah...but you're different, yanno? There's no one I like as much as you, I wouldn't do that stuff for just anyone." Frown recoils at his own words. "Gross, I'm being sappy again."

"Aw, I don't know dude, I like it."

"Can we just go back to the kissing?" Frown pouts.

"Not until you answer my question."

"What questi--Ohhhh." It's Frown's turn to look nervous. "I'm not opposed to it, as long as we have a loooong engagement period, there's no way we're actually gonna have our honeymoon early next year."

"Wait, so that's a yes? You're really okay to jump straight from a blooming relationship to engaged?"

"I'm saying, yes, I will probably marry you at some not yet set date in the future. Thought you'd be thrilled."

"I am! I totally am! Just, if you don't want to you don't have to...I know it's kinda rushing things."

"I know I don't have to, I want to. Is it that hard to believe that I wanna marry your dorky butt and grow old together or whatever."

"We gotta do this right then, and go ring shopping."

"...I don't think you're supposed to do that together."

"I thought you were a bad boy."

"You better believe I am, baby! In fact, maybe we should go steal rings."

"Okay, not that far. What was that you said about going back to the kissing?"

Frown grins as he draws closer. "Now that's a better idea."

#frock #unikitty frock #stormfic #emet warning-

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brrahbrrahcharacterimagines · 6 years ago

Text

Fifth Time’s A Charm (Phantom of the Opera x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Erik Destler (Phantom of the Opera) x Reader

Word Count: 2246

Warnings: Kinda angst? Attempted murder, like 1 curse word

Request: Do you still do Phantom of the Opera X reader? If you do can please one with the Phantom X reader, where its 4 times where they almost kiss and 1 time that they do kiss. Thanks so much! @clean-soap

A/N: I guess some of it is more pining for a kiss than almost kissing, but I hope you still enjoy! I know that this is long overdue!

You finished your ballet routine to thunderous applause. Although it was merely a rehearsal, the rest of the dancers couldn’t help but applaud in awe at your solo performance. You had trained since you were very young, and you had grown into a talented and beautiful dancer. The male members of the ensemble tended to make some suggestive comments towards you, but you never paid them any mind. You looked around the opera house, seeing a mysterious figure lurking in box five. You strained your eyes to make out the figure, but he was gone as soon as you blinked. You had heard stories of the Opera Ghost, but you decided to disregard the figure as shadows playing with your mind. After all, the stories were likely all fabricated.

In fact, the stories were very much real. Erik, better known to many as said Opera Ghost, had been watching you from his signature viewing box. Unbeknownst to you, he had been admiring you for some time. You were the best dancer he had ever seen, always moving exactly in time with a certain poise and grace he had never seen before. He only wished that box five was closer to the stage so he could see you up close. You lips looked soft, and he wanted to kiss them every time he looked upon your face. But he knew that was not the life set out for him. He was hideous, and he would never dare to show himself to you. For now he would have to be happy with watching you from afar. That is, until you moved dressing rooms.

With an older member of the ensemble leaving, you were able to move up and get a larger dressing room. You were thankful for the extra room, as well as the large mirror placed on the wall. The lighting was also much better, allowing you to do your makeup much more precisely. To you, the room was everything you wanted and more. To Erik, the room held everything he wanted. You.

You twirled around in your new room, reveling in the spaciousness. After practicing some choreography for the new ballet, you turned to the mirror. Only instead of seeing your own reflection, you saw another figure looming behind you. It was the figure of a man with dark hair, donned in a long black cape. The setting him most apart from many others was the white mask he wore, a mask that covered half of his face. Something about him intrigued you, and you couldn’t help but lean towards the mirror.

To your surprise, the glass was just as hard and cold as it had always been. When you looked up, the man had vanished. Despite his absence, you couldn’t help but continue to think of him. The memory of his eyes stayed burned into your mind. You imagined how his lips would feel on yours. You imagined what lie beneath that mask of his.

You quickly shook the thought, trying to focus back on your steps. At the same time, you felt a force inside you drawing you to this man. Begging you to kiss him.

Within the next couple of weeks the opera house was lucky enough to get its hands on a young new dancer. She was up-and-coming, and at first you had tried to be nice to her. In your mind, the two of you were similar and that would make you good friends. In her mind, the similarities made you enemies.

With the lead in one of the ballet pieces spraining her ankle, a new solo was up for grabs. Many of the girls tried out, but everybody knew it was really only a competition between you and the new girl. You spun perfectly, every step in time with the beat. As you finished your audition the judges clapped, smiling at you. You knew that you had done a great job. Next, and last, was your so-called rival. She, too, spun in time with the beat. Every leap was picture-perfect. However, as she reached the final jump she faltered. She landed on the side of her foot and crashed to the ground. Immediately after standing up she pointed an accusatory finger.

“You!” She yelled, pointing at you. “You must have done something to the floor after you finished so I would mess up!”

You were appalled. You had done no such thing, and the judges backed you up. The “charges” were not investigated in the slightest, but the validity did not matter to this crazed dancer. She believed so highly in herself that she thought it impossible for her to make a mistake. Therefore, the blame fell on you.

“I’ll get you for this,” she said. Her icy tone and stoic eyes left fear rising in your heart.

Opening day of the new ballet, you were ready to perform. Your costume was elegant, a short red dress that hugged you in all the right places while still allowing you to move. Most of the show went off without a hitch, but as your solo arrived you began to feel uneasy. you had performed many solos before, but for some reason this one in particular was causing insurmountable dread in the pit of your stomach.

The beginning of your solo went fine, leaving the audience cheering and clapping as you gracefully made your way across the stage. However, you soon heard the gasps of the crowd and a heavy figure pushed you behind the curtains. You heard a set piece slam on the stage, and glancing out you saw that the backdrop had fallen. If you had not been shoved out of the way, it would have surely crushed you. You turned back to the figure that saved you, seeing the man from the mirror. You gasped quietly; this was the man you had been seeing in dreams and in the corner of your eye for weeks now. You couldn’t help but feel as if you were tied to him. Feeling his arms grip you tightly, you wanted to be even closer to him. You began to lean forward, fluttering your eyes shut to kiss him thank you. Then it all faded to black.

You woke up to candlelight, hearing the soft splashing of water. You stood slowly, pushing past a light curtain to find the man who had saved you. He was hunched over an organ, playing a haunting melody.

“You play beautifully,” you say, making the man jump as he turns to face you.

“You’re awake,” he said, sending shivers up your spine. He sounded even better than you imagined.

“Yes, I am.” You replied, furrowing your brow. “But where am I exactly?” You stepped closer ti the man, not realizing the way that confusion etched itself onto his face. Why were you not scared? Why were you looking around in awe?

“Under the opera house,” the man responded.

“And who are you?” By this point you were standing right behind the man, close enough that you could reach out and touch him. “I would like to know the name of the man who saved my life.

“Erik,” he said. “Erik Destler. But many know me by another name. Opera Ghost.”

So the stories were real, only a man was behind them all.

“Thank you, Erik.” You tell him, his name rolling easily off you tongue. He tried to ignore the way it felt to hear you say it.

“Do you play?” He asked, gesturing to the organ.

“No,” you reply, “but I have always wanted to learn. Most of my time has been occupied by dancing, though.”

Erik scooted over, motioning to the space beside him as an invitation to sit. “Would you like me to show you? I’m sure the time spent not dancing will not do any harm. I have seen you dance, you are the best I have ever seen.” You blush at Erik’s words, turning away. If you hadn’t turned, you would have noticed the shocked expression on his face. Had he really made a beauty such as yourself blush?

“May I?” he asked, holding out his hands. You nodded slowly, letting him take your hands in his. His hands were rough, but his touch was gentle. He placed your fingers on the keys, his hands ghosting over the tops of yours. “It’s really rather simple, once you get the hang of it anyway,” he spoke, turning to face you. Only then did you realize how close you were. Your faces were mere inches apart. You felt as if you were a magnet, drawn ever closer to him. As you leaned in, he seemed to lean in as well. As you began to close your eyes he stood up, startling you. “Actually, perhaps we will resume this lesson later. I have some business to attend to.” He voiced, clearing his throat. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed as he walked away. Were you not good enough for him? What you did not know was that as soon as he rounded the corner he stopped, leaning against the wall. Tears collected in his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. He knew that he could never be the man you wanted him to be. He was a monster, and you deserved much better than that. He knew better than to kiss you.

After spending a couple days with Erik, you were growing impatient. Why would he bring you here if he was just going to sulk off every time you guys began to have an interaction with any depth? You were finally fed up, making your way to the organ where he was composing yet again. You always knew you could find him there.

“Erik,” you say, making him stop his work and turn to face you.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, unmoving as you made your way to the bench where he was seated. You marched right over to him, looking down into his eyes.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He knew this day would come. Eventually you would have enough of him. He would no longer be able to keep you satisfied. He sighed.

“It is of little importance now,” he answered as he stood up.

“Not to me!” You yelled, catching him off guard.

“What did you say?” He asked, almost threateningly. You felt a pang of fear shoot up your spine as he looked down on you, towering over you now that he had risen from his seat. Despite this, you held fast.

“Not to me,” you repeated. “I want to know why you brought me here after you saved my life.”

Erik sighed again, looking away from you. “Like I said already Y/N, it does not matter now why I brought you here. I know why you are asking me. You want to leave, you want me to take you home.” You furrowed your brow, cocking your head in confusion as you looked up at him.

“No,” you said, making him glance back down at you in surprise.

“No?” He repeated, not caring that his voice showed how astounded he was.

“No,” you affirmed. “I just want to know why you brought me here just to ignore me. I have tried to be kind to you. I have not said a word as you have blown me off, leaving as soon as we start to make conversation or get close. Whenever I am around you I feel this tugging inside of me, begging me to be closer to you. I know you feel it too, and yet every time I begin to act on that feeling you whisk yourself away.” You were furious and distraught all at the same time, tears threatening to flow from your eyes where they had gathered. “You assume that I want you to take me home, but you’re wrong. As cliche and cheesy as it sounds, this feels like home. You feel like home. It has only taken me a couple of days to realize that this is where I want to be. I miss dancing and performing terribly, but if we are where you say we are then certainly I should be able to continue performing while also staying down here.”

Finished with your rant you allowed a sob to escape your body. The sound made a twinge of pain course through Erik’s body. He had never wanted to hurt you.

All of the urges he has had since the first time he saw you bubbled up once again. Your words this is where I want to be echoed in his head on repeat, clouding his thoughts and perhaps his judgement. He reached down, grabbing your waist with one hand and caressing you face with the other, wiping away the stray tears that had begun to fall in a brief moment of confidence.

“Please,” you said helplessly, making Erik look at you longingly. “Let me love you.”

All the walls he had built up came crashing down as he crashed his lips to yours. Your lips moved in sync with his, your arms snaking around his neck. Finally, you thought as you kissed him frantically. You had been wanting this for so long. He pulled away too quickly for your liking, leaving you wanting more.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking into your eyes with pure adoration.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

#The Phantom of the Opera #phantom x reader #the phantom of the opera fanfiction #erik x reader #Erik Destler #erik destler x reader #the phantom of the opera x reader

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aliciameade · 5 years ago

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Head-First - Ch. 4

Title: Head-First Author: aliciameade Rating: M Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: They’re lifeguards.

Also on AO3 & FFN

(The end!)

When Beca drags herself to the kitchen in the morning for much-needed coffee, she groans. “Why are you awake?”

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine.” Stacie smiles at her from the kitchen table, mug in one hand and phone in the other. “Forecast says it’s gonna be a hot one today.”

Beca grabs a travel mug from the cabinet and fills it with coffee and a couple tablespoons of sugar. “If that was an attempt at a joke, it was weak.”

“What? No; the high today is 97º. So glad I have the day off. Make sure you take a couple Powerades out with you.”

Beca lets down her guard. “Oh, thanks. I’m not on the beach today, though. Chloe and I are teaching at the pool.”

“How’s that going?” Stacie sets down her phone; Morning Stacie is always so much more innocent than Late Night Stacie. “You’re kind of adorable together.”

Beca hums over a sip of too-hot coffee while she joins Stacie at the table. “We’re, uh, taking it slow.”

Stacie chuckles. “Really? I’m not trying to be invasive—”

Beca throws her a look as she joins Stacie at the table.

“I’m not! But it’s only been a few days, right? Things seem to be moving kind of quickly for taking it slow, based on the state you’ve been coming home in every night.”

Beca draws a breath through her teeth. “Yeah. Well. We...well, we have, like, amazing chemistry? And it’s really hard to not—”

“Rail each other?”

She winces. “Too early for that.”

“Sorry.”

“I mean, I want to. And I know she wants to. But we talked about it and I really like her, Stace. Like, really.” She ignores the sappy puppy eyes that fall on her at the admission and steals the uneaten slice of toast from Stacie’s plate. “And she likes me, too, and we don’t want sex to get in the way of getting to know each other better.”

“That’s cute. And I mean that.”

Beca rolls her eyes but it’s accompanied by a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway. It’s kind of nuts that I feel this way about someone I just met. Right?”

Stacie just shrugs and pushes her chair back from the table to stand. “When you know, you know. You’re not an idiot, so trust your gut.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t doubt yourself.” Stacie’s hand ruffles Beca’s hair as she departs. “And don’t screw in the pool; I have to get recertified in a couple of weeks and don’t want to be swimming in your lady juices.”

“Can we have one conversation where you don’t bring attention to my bodily fluids?” Beca tosses over her shoulder.

“Only if you agree to never use the words ‘bodily fluids’ again.”

~ ~ ~

“Good morning, Miss Mitchell.” The words are warm on Beca’s ear and she’s shivering before the arm slipping around her waist even finishes tugging her backward into a close embrace. It sends a thrill through her and she leans against the warm body behind her. It’s amazing what Chloe’s mere proximity can do to her.

“Why am I Miss Mitchell today?” she asks with a smile as she twists her neck to try to see her but she’s little more than a blur at such close range.

“Because you’re a sexy teacher today, duh,” Chloe responds, more loudly than Beca would have preferred, before placing a smacking kiss against her cheek and releasing her.

“Does the stench of chlorine and a YMCA locker room turn you on or something?” She winks at Chloe as she says it and pulls on a pair of red county-issued board shorts over her one-piece. Most days, she favored the tankini, but something about wearing it, despite being a sanctioned uniform, to teach a new crop of recruits, many of whom will be barely legal young people, seemed inappropriate.

She’s unsurprised that Chloe’s in her usual two-piece, though she’s opted for shorts, too. “Can’t say they do,” Chloe says as she takes a seat on the bench. “So, how are you?”

“Good. Kinda nervous? Is that dumb?”

“Why would that be dumb?”

Beca’s hands slow down as she loops her whistle around her neck. “I guess when you put it that way…”

“Exactly: not dumb. And any time I see you in the field, you’re a natural. I’m sure you’ll be aqua-awesome out there today, too.”

“Aqua-what?”

“Aqua-awesome! It means extra awesome.”

Beca has half a mind to tell Chloe to dial down the enthusiasm—it’s just basic instruction—but something tells her doing so would feel like clipping a butterfly’s wings. “Nerd,” she says instead and drapes a towel around her shoulders to take with her poolside. “Ready?”

“No.” Chloe’s answer surprises her but then she finds herself tugged at to sit on the bench next to her and right into a kiss.

It’s sweet and gentle and Chloe smells like grapefruit. It’s the first time, Beca realizes, she’s been this close to Chloe before spending a day on the sand. That this is what Chloe must smell like on her days off, not the beach scents of sunblock and saltwater.

“Better?” Chloe asks when they part and for the life of her, Beca can’t figure out what was ailing her to begin with that she should now be better.

“Can I take you out?” she says instead of answering.

There’s amusement playing at Chloe’s lips. “On a date?”

“Yeah. Like, it would be nice to spend time together when we’re not both gross from being outside all day.”

“You think I’m gross?”

“What? No! No, dude, of course, I—” A finger to her lips shuts her up.

“I know you don’t think I’m gross,” Chloe smiles. “I was teasing. I’d love to.”

Beca exhales. “Cool. Um, how’s tomorrow?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Okay. I’ll text you later with a time? I have to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Well, I’m down for anything.” Chloe kisses her after she says it and Beca wonders if the double entendre she interprets is intentional. “Let’s go show the kids how it’s done, yeah?”

“Hell yeah!”

~ ~ ~

Beca’s burst of confidence fizzles once she’s standing in front of a group of trainees even though she’s the one with the whistle and clipboard. She’s grateful for Chloe and her boundless energy as she leads the majority of the lesson, far more than they’d outlined, as they work together to demonstrate the basics of a two-person assist rescue and then guide the trainees through it.

But by the end of the lesson, Beca’s found her stride and it’s she who sends the recruits into the pool for laps with a tweet of her whistle.

“I think that went pretty well,” she says as they walk back to the locker room trailing the class.

Chloe hip-checks her playfully. “Yeah, it went great!”

“Thanks for stepping up more than you had to, by the way. I appreciate it.”

“So totally not a big deal.”

“I’ll do my part next time; promise.”

“I know you will. But even if you don’t, it’s fine.” Chloe smiles at her as she says it and Beca feels it again, the warm, fluttering kind of thing in her chest and stomach that makes her feel cared for, protected. “Come shower with me.”

The words take Beca by surprise and she gapes. “Here?!”

Chloe turns around because Beca’s stopped in her tracks. “Don’t you want to rinse the chlorine out of your hair?” She’s trying not to smile as she says it and Beca’s mind catches up to her, switching lanes from feeling fluttery over Chloe to wrapping up a day spent in a pool.

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“Do you really think the first time we shower-shower together would be at a public pool? What do you take me for?”

Beca can’t help but roll her eyes and she knows she’s blushing. “Yeah, no, sorry, that’s not what I—”

Her mind catches up with her again, rebuilding Chloe’s sentence and the fact that Chloe stated future communal bathing, not as a theoretical possibility but inevitable fact and she forgets how she was supposed to finish her sentence.

Thankfully, Chloe takes her hand and gets them moving again toward the showers. “Come on; you can picture me naked while we rinse off; I don’t mind.”

“I’m not going to picture you naked,” Beca blurts but all she gets is a backward glance over Chloe’s shoulder that tells her Chloe knows better than that.

“That makes one of us.”

The harsh, ice-cold spray of the pool shower is more than welcome.

~ ~ ~

Beca’s staring at the ceiling from the couch she was able to claim in Stacie’s absence when the front door opens and closes.

“Don’t worry; the pool is still safe,” she says preemptively.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” She hears Stacie taking off her shoes and hanging up her keys.

“Dare I ask why?”

“Because I walked in and saw you sulking on the couch.” Her voice is much closer and Beca slides her gaze down toward her feet where Stacie’s standing at the end of the couch. “What happened?”

“I’m not sulking.”

“You kind of look like you’re sulking.”

Beca sighs. “I asked Chloe on a date.”

“And...she said no?”

“She said yes.”

“So why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking; I’m thinking.”

“Stop the presses,” Stacie laughs and Beca flips her off in response.

“I was trying to figure out where to take her tomorrow and I realized that I know almost nothing about her.”

Stacie drops herself into the recliner and kicks it back. “You mean to tell me all the time you’ve spent together this week, you’ve been too busy feeling each other up to actually talk?”

“We talk!” Beca says on reflex. “But it’s not my fault we’re like, super attracted to each other and end up not talking very much.”

“I’m glad you’re getting some, believe me. You’re so much easier to live with when you’re getting your rocks off regularly—” Beca grimaces “—and it’s been way too long. I don’t want you to do something dumb to mess up your chances with this girl, so let’s figure out how to sweep her off her feet.”

Stacie’s contribution to the conversation is an unexpectedly welcome one. “Okay, yeah.”

“What do you know about her so far?”

“She grew up on the beach.”

“And she works on the beach; don’t take her to the beach.”

“She loves the beach.”

“Maybe take her to the beach.”

Beca laughs. “So helpful.”

“No, I’m serious.” Stacie flips the leg rest on her chair down to sit forward. “She loves the beach and you know your way around our stretch of the coast, where all the quiet, private spots are.”

“I think we both kind of wanted to get away from work.”

“See how well you get along outside of your comfort zone; I get it. Why don’t you just go the traditional route? Take her to dinner.”

“I don’t want her to think I’m boring.”

“Movie?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

“The opera.”

“Dude.”

“A concert?”

That suggestion makes Beca think for a few seconds. “Not for a first date; I want us to be able to talk to each other. But that’s a good idea for next time. Shit, I hope there’s a next time.”

“Just show her a good time. She already likes you. Don’t try too hard or say something offensive and you’ll be golden.”

“A good time…” Beca thinks and then grabs her phone to Google something.

“You figure it out?”

“I think so.” She texts Chloe next.

“7:30 pm? Dress casual. I’ll pick you up.”

Chloe’s reply is instantaneous. “Can’t wait!”

~ ~ ~

As Beca waits at Chloe’s apartment door, she realizes she should have brought flowers or maybe a bottle of wine as a gift, but if Chloe’s disappointed that Beca came empty-handed, she doesn’t show it. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. She’s beaming when she opens the door and Beca almost loses her balance when she’s pulled right into a kiss.

“Hi,” Chloe says after a few breathtaking seconds.

“Hey.” Beca releases the grip she has on Chloe’s shirt. “You know, normally the kiss happens at the end of the date.”

“Oh, would you rather wait?”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“Nope, we’re waiting to ‘til the end. So, am I the right kind of casual?” Chloe gestures at herself and the white denim shorts and blue and white striped button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the hem tied into a knot at her waist to reveal a very teasing slice of skin and what could be brand-new white Keds. Her hair is in loose, smooth waves, a far cry from how Beca’s used to seeing it: frizzy from humidity and tied back in some way. She thinks both styles are stunning.

“Um, yeah, you look...cute.” Beca winces as soon as she says it; “cute” isn’t a very romantic thing to call someone. But instead of being offended, Chloe kind of bounces in place. “You should bring some taller socks, though.”

That earns her a curious look. “Socks?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

“Okay,” Chloe laughs. “One sec.” She turns and disappears into her apartment and Beca waits. She’s nervous and hates herself for it. She doesn’t have time to slip into a world of second-guessing herself because Chloe’s only gone a matter of a few seconds, returning with a rolled-up pair of socks in her hand to show Beca before stuffing them into her purse. “Ready.”

“Cool.” Beca steps aside to let Chloe walk ahead but instead, Chloe takes Beca’s hand and pulls her along to walk down the stairs and to Beca’s car side by side.

“You look cute, too, you know,” Chloe says as she waits for Beca to unlock her door. The activity gives Beca the precious couple seconds to not respond like a fumbling idiot once they’re both sitting in Beca’s dark silver Mini Cooper Convertible (the top is up tonight; she didn’t want to look all windblown upon her arrival). She’d bought it at an impound auction last year for a crazy low price, but no one needed to know that.

“Uh, thanks,” she replies as she starts the car and eases into traffic toward their destination. She’d agonized over what to wear and had left the house feeling like she’d made terrible choices in her navy blue tank top and denim cut-offs but Stacie had insisted both articles of clothing showed off all her curves in all the right ways and that she was not at all underdressed for what she had planned.

“So, are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

“No.”

She hears Chloe make a pouty noise and glances at her to see she’s very much watching Beca. “Not even a hint?”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” Chloe says with a dramatic huff and a few seconds of silence tick by before Beca hears her singing along quietly to the radio. She’s not sure why she’s surprised Chloe has a nice voice; to-date, she seems to be good at everything she does.

“You know this song?” Beca asks as she clicks up the volume a few times, not because she doesn’t want to hear Chloe sing but because Chloe likes the song.

“Why would I not know this song?”

“I meant that you know the words.”

“Oh, totes! Baby, you're a perfect ten, I wanna get in, can I get down so I can win.”

Chloe’s voice singing one of Beca’s favorite songs, a song that may or may not be on several of her playlists including a few compiled with bedroom activities in mind, makes Beca squirm in her seat.

“I like the way you work it,” she sings, joining Chloe, and she glances at her knowingly when she hears her gasp. Beca’s a humble person and would never brag about anything beyond her ability to put together the perfect playlist for any situation, but she knows she has a decent voice and isn’t embarrassed when she chooses to sing in front of other people.

“No diggity,” they sing together. In fact, they sing the rest of the song together, finding natural splits in who’s taking which line or sharing verses and splitting melodies into harmonies through not just the one song but the four it takes them to get to their destination.

~ ~ ~

“Wait, are you serious?” Chloe asks as she stares at the building a few rows of cars away across the parking lot.

Her awe is hard to read. Is she happy? Disappointed? “Yeah. Is that...is this okay?”

Chloe’s answer is to squeal and she leans across the console to kiss Beca’s cheek before scrambling to get out of the car.

“I guess that’s a yes,” Beca says proudly to herself as she grabs her purse to catch up with Chloe who seems barely able to refrain from sprinting across the lot. As soon as she does, Chloe’s hand is in hers again and Beca has to hustle to keep up with her.

“An eight, please,” Chloe says, still almost vibrating with excitement as they wait at the counter, a wall of cubbies filled with roller skates staring back at them.

A disinterested teenager looks at Beca to wait for her request before fulfilling Chloe’s. “Uh, seven, please.”

His moody attitude goes unnoticed by Chloe as he drops the rented skates on the counter and punches buttons on the screen of the cash register, which Beca pays for before Chloe can try to suggest they split it.

They find an empty bench to sit on and Chloe makes such quick work of trading her low-tops for her packed socks and roller skates that Beca’s still fighting with her second skate’s laces by the time she’s finished.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe asks, her feet rolling back and forth while she sits as if testing their rolly-ness.

“The laces are all messed up,” she grumps, starting to get more frustrated by the second now that Chloe’s waiting and watching her. “How does this even happen?”

“Oh! I gotchu,” Chloe says as she stands—now several inches taller—turns with what Beca feels is an unfair amount of grace for someone on roller skates, and kneels at Beca’s feet to unlace the uneven weaving with deft fingers and redo it correctly. “There,” she says proudly as she uses Beca’s knees for leverage to get back to her feet. “It’s not too tight?”

Beca rocks her foot side to side. “No, it’s good.”

“Awes.” She holds out her hands for Beca to take and help Beca to her feet. The wheels let Chloe pull Beca right into her and for a moment, Beca’s sure Chloe is going to kiss her until Chloe’s rolling backward. “Should we get a locker for our stuff?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, let me just…” Beca fishes out a pair of quarters from her wallet before stuffing her bag and Converse into the metal cubby Chloe’s holding open for her, Chloe’s purse and shoes already tucked into the back of it. Beca drops the coins into the slot and Chloe takes the key to wear it around her wrist as a bracelet.

“So, on a scale of one to ten,” Chloe asks as they pick their way through the obstacle course of benches, shoes, and people toward the rink, “how much roller skating experience do you have?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I need to know how fast or slow I should go.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re an experienced roller skater?”

Chloe shrugs. “I don’t like to brag, but…”

“Uh-huh,” Beca smiles. “I’ll give myself a six because I can go backward, too. What about you?”

“I’ll let you rank me later,” Chloe says with a wink as they roll to a stop at the entrance to the rink. It’s busy, but it’s an adults-only skate so for the most part, it’s orderly. “Ready?”

“After you,” Beca gestures and watches Chloe step onto the rink and immediately turn to skate backward with an expectant smile.

Beca rolls her eyes at her display and follows. She hasn’t been on roller skates in a few years, but she’s only unsure for a few strides until she’s caught up with Chloe who turns to face forward and skate next to Beca.

The music is loud and, so far, Beca’s approved of the DJ’s throwback choices. It’s a little too intrusive to carry on a lengthy conversation as they roll at a leisurely pace around the oval rink and allow speed skaters to pass them. But Beca doesn’t mind; it’s nice to be with Chloe in a new environment, one that doesn’t feel like conversation must continue lest awkward silence ensue. It’s low-pressure and there’s so much happening around them that if it does start to feel too quiet between them, it’s easy to quip, “Dude, that guy just ate it so hard!” or, “This remix is amazing!”

She decides it must be 80s night based on the music; it’s all of the top songs of the decade and Chloe starts singing along to Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl.”

“I always wanted to meet a girl who was dating a Jessie so I could listen to this song while I pined for her,” Chloe says with a laugh as they skate.

Beca looks at her as long as she dares to not trip over her own feet. “I don’t make it a habit to talk about exes on dates, but...my last boyfriend’s name was Jesse.”

Chloe squeals and spins (impressively) in place to skate backward next to Beca. “I am going to cling to that. Thank you.”

“Any time,” Beca laughs. “Curve is coming,” she says with a nod ahead and Chloe twirls back to face forward again.

“All right, all you sexy people,” the DJ’s voice crackles over the PA system. “Find your lover, your partner, your main squeeze, your sweetheart and hit the brakes because it’s time for sloooooooow skate.”

His voice fades into the opening bars of Breathe’s “Hands to Heaven” and Beca has a solid five seconds of panic as she watches several skaters leave the rink and those remaining link up into hand-holding pairs. She always hated slow skate as a teenager; she never had anyone to skate with, and she remembers that shame vividly.

Chloe’s hand slipping into hers, however, brushes those feelings aside to be replaced with feelings of a very different kind as the lights dim and the disco ball floods the room with stars.

“I haven’t heard this song in forever,” Chloe says and Beca hears her singing along to herself to the slow chorus.

“Me, neither.” Beca chooses to enjoy the quiet moment rather than engage a conversation, despite the change of pace providing a better environment for one. She feels like they’re communicating despite not speaking now that they’re holding hands.

The thought makes her feel cheesy, but given the fact that she’s slow skating in the dark under a disco ball to an 80s love song holding the hand of a girl who, she dares allow herself to think after such a short time together, could be important in Beca’s life.

The song mixes into “Drive” by The Cars and Beca makes a mental note to do something with both of the songs; maybe a playlist for Chloe.

“Oh no, this song always makes me cry.” Chloe’s voice is already tight and Beca second-guesses her plan.

She squeezes Chloe’s hand. “Why?”

“He just loves the girl in the song so much and wants to make sure she’s happy but feels helpless.”

“You don’t think he decides to do something about it by the end of the song?”

Chloe just shrugs and Beca watches her push away an escaped tear.

“Well,” Beca continues, “if I felt that way about someone, I wouldn’t sit back and let them slip away.”

“No?”

Beca shakes her head and realizes how honest she just was—how she maybe showed her hand a little too early.

But Chloe just swings that hand between them as though reminding her that Chloe isn’t going anywhere and, fueled by an unexpected rush of emotions, takes a quick stride to get just far enough ahead of Chloe to turn and skate backward so they can face each other. She trusts Chloe to not let her run into anyone. She trusts Chloe to not let her run into the curved wall at the end of the rink, too, but the artistic designs painted along the wall tells Beca they should be turning and she’s about to when Chloe’s hands move to her hips and she drives them straight into the wall.

There’s a sting in Beca’s lower back where it connects with the ledge from their momentum but it’s erased by Chloe’s lips on hers. She’s grateful Chloe has her pinned; the wheels on her feet lend themselves nicely to sending her to the floor if her knees were to give out.

It also allows Beca to slip her arms over Chloe’s shoulders as she returns the kiss, a relatively PG-rated trading of kisses until need gets the better of Beca’s sense of public decency and she slips her tongue past Chloe’s lips and feels more than hears the satisfied sound Chloe makes in response.

She can’t quite believe she’s making out on a roller rink under a disco ball while “Rush Rush” starts to play; her adolescent self would never believe it.

There’s something different about kissing Chloe this time. It’s missing the urgency of their previous deep kisses, but not in a way Beca finds disappointing. They aren’t pawing at each other, stumbling through a room in desperation to reach the line they have yet to cross. It’s reassuring. It tells her that they do want each other, crave each other, but both are content to wait, to have more, do more than That One Thing.

She has to stop thinking about it because the more she thinks about how amazing it is to kiss Chloe without the pressure of having to make a decision or convincing herself to stop, the more she wants to get herself into the position of having to make that decision and it’s making it difficult to keep her feet under herself, especially on roller skates.

“The two lovebirds on the south rail need to wrap it up or take it off the rink.” The DJ’s voice floats through the song. “Your affection is a road hazard.”

“I think he means us,” Chloe says against Beca’s lips and she can feel Chloe’s smile.

“What happened to waiting until the end of our date?”

“Are you really complaining?” Chloe starts to lean in again but then pulls back before their lips touch.

Beca lets herself whine because she is genuinely upset the moment’s over.

“Don’t worry,” Chloe says before pecking her lips again and using her hold on Beca’s hips to roll herself back, “there’s plenty more where that came from.” She winks after she says it and turns to skate away.

She wants Beca to follow her. Chase her. It’s not an outlandish concept, and the 90s jam that mixes in to signal the end of slow skate and the beginning of a jam skate has the perfect beat for her to push off the wall and catch up to Chloe who’s already halfway around the rink.

Chloe doesn’t see her coming and yelps when Beca grabs her waist.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Beca says, directing both of them toward one of the floor’s exits.

It’s a semi-awkward shuffle of a skate once they’re off the rink and back on the main floor. They have to weave around skaters and non-skaters, tables, and shoes whose owners didn’t care to tuck into lockers, bags, or even under a bench. Beca spots an empty booth and leads them to it.

“Save our table? I’ll go order for us if you tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know what they have,” Chloe says with a smile.

“Oh! Uh, pizza and burgers and stuff. Do you want to go look? I can wait here so we don’t lose the table.”

“Surprise me,” Chloe says as she scoots into the booth. “Just nothing with onions.”

“Don’t like them?”

“Don’t want to smell like them when we’re making out later.” She says it so simply she could have been talking about going to the grocery store.

It makes Beca swallow thickly and she can feel her cheeks burning. “Um, cool, yeah. Oh, beverage preference?”

“Root beer.”

Beca jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “They have a full bar.”

Chloe just smiles. “I know.”

“Root beer it is,” Beca says with a nod before she turns to skate through the seating area toward the food counter.

Chloe’s put the fate of her next meal in Beca’s hands and while Chloe seemed unbothered by the lack of certainty, Beca’s all the more nervous to make a good choice as she stares at the brightly lit menu above the counter, its list built out of uneven rows of red and blue letters and upside down W’s used where M’s should be.

She decides and orders and waits the few short minutes until two red plastic baskets slide across the counter toward her. It takes her two trips, once with the food and again for the drinks.

“I could have helped you,” Chloe says as she accepts the unbranded cup of fountain root beer.

Beca dismisses the need with a wave of her hand and eases into the booth, somewhat tricky with wheels strapped to her feet. They take turns passing packets of condiments back and forth (sparking a brief debate over the fact that Chloe likes mayonnaise on her fries?!) until they’re settled into their fried delicacies.

“Did you always want to be a vet?” Beca asks. For as much time they’ve spent together over the past week, they’ve reserved very little of it for actually getting to know each other beyond 1) lifeguarding and 2) kissing. Beca did manage to figure out in that time that Chloe’s time as a receptionist at the clinic was to help her upcoming applications for veterinary school.

Chloe nods as she finishes her bite of hamburger. “Yeah. Well, mostly,” she amends. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a pop star.”

Beca smiles. “You have a good voice. You never tried?”

Chloe kind of shrugs and Beca wonders if there are sad memories tied up in that career goal. “Aubrey and I both did. We were in an a cappella group together in college. The SoCal VoCals?”

Beca’s never heard of them. “Like, competitive?”

“Yeah.” She starts smiling. “We were really good. We were actually on the first season of ‘The Sing-Off’ on TV.”

“You were on a reality show?!” Beca gapes; she’s a reality show junky (not that she’d readily admit that).

Chloe laughs. “Yeah. It was just for a cappella groups.”

“Did you win?”

“No, but we did make it to the quarter-finals.”

“That’s awesome, dude,” Beca says with a grin. “You didn’t shoot to superstardom after that?”

“Can you believe we didn’t?” Chloe says with another laugh. “It was fun, though. But it did open my eyes to what working in that industry could be like. There were so many pretentious, fake people to deal with, just with our little show. I need authenticity. I like real people, you know?” She points at Beca with a French fry and winks and it makes Beca all fluttery inside. “But I’ve always loved animals. My mom used to call me Doctor Doolittle when I was a kid because animals weren’t afraid of me and I wasn’t afraid of them. I’ll have to show you this picture I have of me holding a scorpion when I was eight. It crawled onto my knee when I was sitting on the front steps of my house. He chilled with me for a good hour listening to me talk about ‘The Powerpuff Girls’ until my mom came outside. She panicked and made me put him back on the ground but not before she took a picture.”

The very thought makes Beca shudder. “And you never got stung?”

“Nope,” Chloe says happily. “I’m pretty sure my mom killed him when she sent me into the house, though.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Chloe giggles, eyes brighter than Beca ever remembers seeing them. “It’s not the best to have scorpions creeping around your house, especially when you have kids. I don’t blame her.”

“Scorpions love you; I see why veterinary medicine is a good fit.”

“That, and animals don’t lie. They’re the most authentic of all. If they’re mad, they tell you. Or hungry, or happy. They don’t always say ‘thank you’ when you help them, but I like to help for the sake of helping, not because I need the acknowledgment. But a little girl hugging your leg and crying thanking you for saving her cat is a pretty great anyway.”

“You’ve saved a cat?”

“Oh, no,” Chloe waves her hand. “But she didn’t know the difference. I don’t know why that would be impressive anyway; you saved a person. At least two, actually, that I know of. You still owe me that story, by the way.”

It all flashes through Beca’s memory, an unexpected, jarring recollection and she almost knocks over her drink when she reaches for it. “Uh, he survived.”

“That’s it? No gory details?”

Beca frowns and stares at her food.

“Oh, no, that wasn’t okay to say. I’m sorry,” Chloe rushes. “You don’t have to tell me. I didn’t realize—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Beca clears her throat and tries to find the easiest path through the story. “He was seventeen. Dove off the jetty, the one between our towers. He was unconscious.”

“His neck?” Chloe asks quietly.

“Sprained, I found out later. We gave him CPR for...five minutes? Seemed like forever until the paramedics came. I broke his sternum.” Her hands clench as the memory of what that felt and sound like nauseates her for a moment.

“But you saved his life,” Chloe says quietly. When Beca looks up she can see Chloe’s processing what she’s shared. She reaches across the table to rest her hand over Beca’s forearm and her thumb brushes back and forth. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Beca exhales shakily and tries to cover it by shoving a trio of fries in her mouth. “Change the subject,” she says, mouth full, and Chloe smiles.

“Did you always want to be a lifeguard?”

Beca throws a fry across the table but her terrible aim and Chloe ducking results in it smacking the booth near her shoulder and falling to the seat to get brushed to the floor. “Oh, yeah. Dream job.”

“Then tell me what it really is.”

~ ~ ~

“So…” Beca edges as they wait to be able to cross the busy through-lane of the parking lot, “who’s going to drive you home tonight?” She knows that song and its words are about a lot more than driving someone to their house, but...she kind of wants Chloe to know she knows that.

“Did you just quote that song’s lyrics to me?” She hears the amusement in Chloe’s voice.

Beca glances at her and reaches to take her hand before they both step onto the parking lot toward Beca’s car. “Yes.”

“Well, I sure hope you’re going to drive me home tonight. I don’t really feel like walking.”

“I suppose I can give you a lift.”

“Good, because I’m not ready for this date to be over yet.” Chloe’s tone is more than suggestive and her shoulder brushes Beca’s just before they split to get into Beca’s car. Beca has to take a second to compose herself before popping open her door.

The drive back to Chloe’s place is somewhat quiet; Chloe apologizes for being rude and spends a good bit of it checking things on her phone with the explanation that she’d rather not be distracted for the rest of the night. It adds to the already-layered tension that’s been swirling around them since Beca picked up Chloe earlier in the evening. Beca makes it a point to surreptitiously wipe her sweating palms on the legs of her shorts before they get too close to Chloe’s home.

She parks on the street outside Chloe’s building. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” she says when it’s quiet for a second too long with a quick glance at Chloe. It’s the most generic end-of-date line she could have said and regrets the choice immediately.

“Me, too.” She can feel Chloe’s eyes on her. “Beca.”

A shiver runs up the back of Beca’s neck at her tone. “Hmm?”

Chloe’s hand enters her periphery and Beca watches it turn back the key in her ignition to kill the engine. “Come inside?”

The heat that starts flowing Beca is only fanned by Chloe’s proximity; she’s leaning across the console into Beca’s personal space and she can feel how close she is. “Please?” Beca feels lips graze her cheek. “If you want to,” she adds.

Beca thinks she answers, that she says something, but everything feels foggy. Her car keys are in one hand and Chloe’s hand is in her other and her feet are climbing stairs behind Chloe’s so she must have given some kind of response. Or not. Maybe she said nothing and just got out of the car.

Regardless, Chloe’s unlocking her front door and locking it behind Beca.

Beca fully expects to be pressed up against the door, to be pinned there and kissed with the needy kind of passion she’s feeling for Chloe right now but instead, Chloe drops her hand and offers her a soft smile before turning to walk toward the kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asks once she’s there and Beca watches her retrieve a pair of glass tumblers from a cabinet.

“Uh…” Beca realizes she’s still standing at the front door and takes a few steps forward but stops, unsure where she should go. One thing she is sure of is that she feels out-of-sorts; being with Chloe has, thus far, been easy—low stress, no expectations, and gut instinct driven by how attractive Beca finds Chloe. In more ways than one.

Tonight, there’s an expectation. Or maybe an implication. ‘An invitation’ is what Beca settles on. There’s an unspoken invitation on the table and Beca knows it’s hers to accept or take a raincheck.

“Yes or no?” Chloe asks and Beca blinks out of her thoughts. Chloe’s still in the kitchen, glasses on the counter, and she’s holding a bottle of bourbon.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Water? Rocks? Neat?” Chloe smiles at her in a way that tells Beca she’s a source of amusement for Chloe and that makes her equal parts self-conscious and warm.

“On the rocks, please.” She watches Chloe dig ice cubes from the freezer for both of them and pour a couple fingers’ worth of bourbon into the glasses. All of it feels exceedingly sensual: the ice against the glass, the splash of the liquor, the solid sound of the bottle returning to its place at the back of the counter, the way Chloe looks at Beca as she crosses to her, the glasses in hand, to offer one to her.

“Cheers,” Chloe says as she lifts her glass.

“Yeah, cheers,” Beca replies as she taps her glass to Chloe’s.

“You know nothing needs to happen tonight, right?” Chloe asks after they sip. She gestures toward the couch as an offer to sit and she’s turning to move to it when Beca’s hand catches her wrist.

She doesn’t recall deciding to do that, to reach out and stop Chloe. But her hand encircles Chloe’s wrist and Chloe’s eyes meet hers in question.

“I—“ Beca stops to wet her lips and swallow. “I’ve never seen your bedroom.” She feels like she’s on some kind of autopilot, aware of what she’s doing without any conscious thought.

Chloe’s eyes seem to darken. “Oh. Would you like to?”

“Yeah, I—” She stops herself before she says she ‘thinks so.’ “Yes.”

“Then I’ll show you,” Chloe says as she changes direction and rearranges their hands so their fingers are intertwined. “It’s just down the hall.” She leads and Beca follows, but Beca has the distinct feeling she’s the one in the driver’s seat, not Chloe.

She follows and takes a longer, less polite drink while Chloe’s back is to her. One drink won’t cloud her judgment, but it will help ease her nerves.

Not that clouded judgment matters, she muses. Her subconscious is taking care of her. She’s known what she wants. And wanting to wait was one thing she wanted, but there’s one thing she wants more.

Chloe leads her through the doorway and, Beca notices, doesn’t turn on the light. She leads Beca to the far side of the queen-sized bed, Chloe’s usual side, she presumes, based on the items on the adjacent nightstand. One of the items is a small table lamp and Chloe reaches under the shade to turn it on, then clicks it twice to a dimmer brightness.

The bedspread, Beca notices, is not black as she initially thought but rather the color of chocolate, or coffee. The pillows resting on it are dressed in lavender. It reminds Beca of nature and it seems fitting; Chloe seems like someone who would feel connected to Mother Earth.

The sound of Chloe’s glass setting down on the bedside table draws her out of her thoughts and Beca notices it’s empty. She doesn’t know when Chloe finished it but she decides to do the same and lets Chloe take her empty glass to set it with hers.

Beca doesn’t realize they’re still standing until Chloe sits on the edge of the bed and gives Beca’s hand a tug. Beca sits, too, and her eyes drift to their joined hands and the way Chloe’s fingers are playing with her own.

“Nervous?” Chloe asks, voice almost a whisper.

Beca half-shrugs. “Maybe? I don’t want to mess this up.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Chloe’s eyes are roaming like she’s doing a quick study of every feature on Beca’s face until her hand comes up to move Beca’s hair off her left shoulder in what feels like a precursory action. “But, for what it’s worth, I’m nervous, too.” Chloe offers a gentle smile with the sentiment. “We don’t have to do anything. I’d be just as happy to spend the night with you watching movies.”

Chloe’s reassurance that she would harbor no ill will should Beca want to do just that seems to strike a chord in Beca, one that was only being toyed with a bit thus far. “I don’t want to watch movies.”

Chloe’s gentle smile curves a little more on one side. “Then what would you like to do?” She glances at Beca’s lips and that’s all the more prompting Beca needs.

She leans in and captures Chloe’s lips with her own. She can feel Chloe smile and she offers a quick one in return before bringing her hand up to frame Chloe’s face as she kisses her again. They’ve only done this a handful of times and somehow it feels like they’ve been doing it forever, yet still feels brand-new. Chloe’s lips are soft and warm and press insistently at Beca’s until they part so Chloe’s tongue can slip over Beca’s.

It also feels different this time; they’re not on Chloe’s couch distracting themselves from working. They’re on Chloe’s bed in near darkness after a date that Beca is confident in ranking as her Best Date Ever. There’s nothing else they’re supposed to be doing. They don’t even have to be up early to go to work. She’ll have to answer to Stacie whenever she does get home, but that’s the least of her concerns tonight.

Right now, her only concern is the ache in the middle of her back from twisting for their kiss.

“Can we lie down?” she asks after one more firm kiss.

“We can do anything you want,” Chloe says hotly and Beca’s sure Chloe’s about to kiss her again but instead she moves backward until she’s lying on the far side of the bed, head on a pillow, and watching Beca.

Beca turns and follows, making it a point to toe-off her shoes that she failed to leave at the front door.

She knows Chloe’s expecting Beca to lie down next to her; it’s why she moved all the way to the other side. It kind of makes Beca melt inside to know that Chloe is continually showing Beca that she’s okay with whatever it is Beca wants or needs, even if that need is to wait.

It only reassures Beca of her decision.

She stops in the middle of the bed on her knees and sits back. “I’ll fall off the bed we’re that close to the edge.”

Chloe looks at her with such amusement Beca’s sure she’s about to burst into a fit of giggles, but all she does is work her way over to the middle of the bed. Beca moves when she’s close enough, turning on her knees, then moving to straddle Chloe’s thighs. She hears Chloe gasp when she does it and the confidence it ignites in Beca is palpable.

“It’s not like we’ve never done this before,” she says with a smile as she leans down.

“But we’ve never been on my bed when you did that,” Chloe replies as her hands find Beca’s elbows to climb the backs of her arms until her fingers are in Beca’s hair to pull Beca down the last few inches into another kiss.

It’s more heated this time. The angle is so much better. It’s so easy to kiss, and kiss, and kiss and slip her tongue into Chloe’s mouth, only to be chased out so the same can be done to her own.

She notices she has one minor regret about her choice of position when she feels Chloe’s hands on her waist, fingertips sneaking under the edge of Beca’s shirt: her hands aren’t as free to roam as she’d like them to be as she supports herself.

At least she has her mouth, though, and she uses it to move to kiss along Chloe’s jaw until she’s tilting her head back and Beca’s lips move to it. She covers it in gentle kisses, marveling at the sounds Chloe’s making. Her heavy breaths. The occasional whimper. The almost-but-not-quite moans that Beca can hear getting caught in Chloe’s throat. She’s distracted and somehow missed the progression of Chloe’s wandering hands until fingernails are drawing circles on her bare stomach, tickling along her ribs.

It makes her own breath catch and she can feel the unspoken question as those hands smooth around her ribs to her back where they stroke up, warm palms offering a calming connection, only for fingernails to drag their way back down. It’s not sharp enough to sting but it does make Beca hiss before she’s finding Chloe’s pulse point to suck a mark onto it.

That’s what finally helps the moan escape and it rattles Beca to her core. It makes her hips shift and she feels Chloe’s move beneath her and she’s reminded of the other night when their positions were reversed and Chloe’s kisses and Chloe’s hips drove Beca higher and higher until they’d pressed pause.

The longer they do this, the fewer second-thoughts Beca has about pressing pause again.

She lifts her head, intent on kissing Chloe again and Chloe meets her halfway, turning her head to catch her. It’s even hotter now, more passionate, and Beca feels the temperature of the room—and her own—steadily rise. She also feels her shirt steadily rise until her arms stop its ascent.

Chloe doesn’t do anything to try to finish removing it and Beca’s too caught up in what Chloe’s doing to her tongue to think about caring about anything beyond that. And the new development that is fingers creeping along the band of Beca’s bra toward the center of her chest.

She knows what Chloe’s intention is and she nods when Chloe hesitates.

Beca’s arms threaten to give out when she feels Chloe’s fingers travel up to explore the curves of her breasts, over the satin of her bra, tracing the edges of the cups until they’re grazing the bare skin above them. Her skin burns in their wake and she breaks their kiss to pull off her shirt and toss it aside.

“Oh, wow.”

A hand on Beca’s sternum stops her from leaning down again and forces her to sit back, upright.

“You are...so hot,” Chloe says and Beca watches Chloe’s eyes move over her upper body.

“You see me in less than this every day.”

“But you’re not on top of me or in my bed when I do.” Chloe’s eyes meet hers. “But speaking of less than this…” Her index finger catches the band of Beca’s bra in the center of her chest to give it a light tug.

“Did you want me to take it off?” Beca asks. She knows she’s teasing Chloe and she can’t quite believe she’s capable of doing so, but knowing Chloe likes it—likes her—gives her uncharacteristic levels of confidence.

Chloe shrugs. “I mean if you want to.”

Beca spends half a second feeling shy and then remembers how much heat is between them right now and reaches behind herself to unhook her bra. She does it gently so it remains in place. She very much wants Chloe to be the one to take it off of her.

It hangs loose on her shoulders and rides up a bit, but she’s still covered. She had assumed Chloe would keep her finger where it was to pull it down right away, but she didn’t. Instead, her fingers are trailing Beca’s ribs again, along the warm skin where her bra was until her fingertips are grazing the lower curves of Beca’s breasts.

It makes her gasp and her hips shift and she tries to ground herself; she doesn’t want to come across as impatient (because she isn’t), but no matter how hard she tries, her hips want to rock. It really doesn’t help that Chloe’s tilt beneath hers with each motion.

“Fuck,” Beca has to whisper when Chloe’s hands move higher, hidden beneath the loose bra, to first brush over her nipples, then palm her breasts confidently.

“God, Beca,” Chloe says with a rasp to her voice and her hips tilt into Beca more sharply.

For being on the giving end of what’s happening, Chloe seems to be enjoying it immensely and it only serves to make Beca want to know how much she’d enjoy receiving instead. Besides, her hands are idle, anyway.

She starts with her own bra, finally pulling it down her arms to toss it to the floor. Chloe can take it off her next time.

She reaches for the hem of Chloe’s shirt next and pulls the front of it from where it’s tucked into her shorts and starts unbuttoning it. She glances up to double-check that everything is fine but Chloe’s eyes are closed and she’s restless, shifting and squirming and, apparently, really enjoying having her hands on Beca’s breasts which is more than okay with Beca because she really enjoys that, too.

A moan escapes her when Chloe pinches and she has to focus extra hard to finish unbuttoning Chloe’s blouse. She does, though, and tosses the sides apart.

“Thank God,” she breathes when she sees the front clasp of Chloe’s lacy champagne-colored bra which leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Not that it’s needed; Beca’s seen Chloe topless countless times, but Chloe was right. It was never like this. It was never with Chloe toying with Beca’s breasts in such a maddening way.

“Wanted to make it easy for you,” Chloe says, back arching slightly in request.

The fact that Chloe had expected this, or at least hoped for this...Beca reaches for the clasp, not bothering with touching her first through the lace, and unhooks it.

She must stare too long because Chloe whines, “Touch me.”

Beca lets her fingers climb graze along Chloe’s ribs, following the same path Chloe had on Beca, to trace the curves before her hands cover Chloe’s breasts to squeeze lightly.

“God,” Chloe groans and the hands at Beca’s chest move to her back to pull Beca back down and into a kiss.

She has to use one of her hands to support herself and the feeling of her chest pressing to Chloe’s is too good so she gives up her brief manual exploration of Chloe’s breasts in favor of full contact.

Chloe whimpers through their kiss which is growing dirtier and hotter by the second until Chloe’s pushing Beca off her, all the way until she’s sitting on her hip watching Chloe strip away her blouse and bra that Beca had undone for her. She misses their physical connection immediately and reaches to rest her hand on Chloe’s knee. Instinct begs her to run her hand north and press between Chloe’s legs and while she believes all signs are pointing to that being okay, she’s also loving taking their time.

So, she leaves her hand on Chloe’s knee and lets her thumb move back and forth over the warm, smooth skin there and watches Chloe move back in to kiss her, only to change course and start pressing kisses along Beca’s collar bone.

She knows what happens next and her hand slips higher as Chloe’s lips travel lower by the second; they’re trailing along the curve of Beca’s left breast until Chloe covers the peak with her lips to pull gently while her tongue slips over it.

“Jesus,” Beca breathes, the hand holding herself up slipping inch by inch until she’s on her back and Chloe’s lying next to her, mouth on Beca’s breast, hand teasing the other until its fingers are drawing patterns on Beca’s stomach.

They bump the edge of her shorts more than once in a teasing, torturous game of ‘Maybe This Time?’

Now she understands why Chloe was so restless beneath her; to be on her back, to have Chloe leaning over her this way, she’s a ball of anxious need with little control.

Mostly she can’t lie still with the way Chloe’s tongue teases her achingly hard nipples like she has nowhere better to be, and the sounds Chloe makes while she does it.

Chloe’s fingers catch in her waistband again but again, they do nothing. However, this time they keep moving lower and Beca feels them travel over her pocket, down the length of the material, until warm fingers squeeze at her thigh.

It makes her whole body tense with anticipation. Then Chloe’s sneaking north, her fingertips slipping beneath the hem of Beca’s shorts. Beca knows they’re probably too long and the angle’s not favorable for Chloe to really reach her this way but it’s sexy and thrilling all the same. She knows Chloe can feel how hot she is and spreads her legs a bit to try to encourage her.

“Chloe,” she finally says when desperation begins to win out. “Please.”

“Please what?” Chloe says before nipping at the soft flesh of Beca’s breast.

Beca really only has one functional hand, her left being trapped against her body by Chloe, but her right is free and she uses it to reach for the hand threatening to drive her insane, draw it out of the leg of her shorts, and place it over the fly. She almost placed it between her legs herself, but this is still their first time and she wants to make sure their pace is good with Chloe, too.

Chloe lifts her head and Beca meets her eyes. “You’re sure?”

“I said please, didn’t I?” she says, beginning to feel a bit delirious with arousal.

“And it sounded so good,” Chloe says with a smile that’s probably illegal in fourteen states. “Since you asked nicely…”

Beca holds her breath and she feels Chloe’s hand move down, down until her fingertips are pressing and following the thick seam of her shorts between her legs.

It makes her entire body roll. “Fuck,” she exhales.

“Oh, my God, I can feel how turned on you are,” Chloe says with a moan before pushing herself higher to claim Beca’s lips.

Beca just nods and whines pitifully.

“Can I finish undressing you?” Chloe asks between kisses.

“If you don’t, I will,” Beca breathes before kissing Chloe hard, desperately.

Chloe moans in response and then she’s in motion, sitting up and reaching to unbutton Beca’s shorts. Beca lifts her hips and Chloe doesn’t hesitate to slip them down and off Beca’s legs.

She does hesitate at the last garment, Beca’s new black underwear she’s oh-so-grateful she decided to wear tonight just in case, so Beca just lifts her hips again and says, “Please.”

Beca feels them move down her legs followed by...nothing.

She lifts her head to see Chloe sitting by Beca’s feet, just looking at her body. “What?”

Chloe shakes her head. “I can’t get over how hot you are.”

Beca has to laugh. “Have you ever looked in a mirror?”

Chloe rolls her eyes but her smile tells Beca she appreciates the sentiment.

“Can you…” Beca gestures vaguely in Chloe’s direction “too?”

It takes Chloe a second to figure it out, but then with a quiet, “Oh,” she’s unbuttoning her shorts and working them down her legs, quickly followed by panties Beca knows match the bra she’d been wearing.

“Okay, you win the hotness contest,” she says as she watches Chloe crawl up her body until she’s lying, skin to skin, against Beca, as they kiss.

“It’s a tie,” Chloe says and Beca can’t help but wrap her arms around her. It’s not a hug, not exactly, as her arms don’t linger.

If Chloe’s going to lie on top of her fully nude, Beca is going to use it to her advantage. She runs her hands down Chloe’s back until they’re on her ass, grasping it shamelessly as Beca tries to rock up into her.

“God, you’re so ready, aren’t you,” Chloe says with an appreciative moan before moving to suck at Beca’s neck.

“And you’re not?”

Chloe’s hips roll against Beca. “I’ve been ready since I saw you change in the locker room the first time.”

“Pervert.”

“I have appreciative eyes. I can’t help it if I like what I see.”

Beca drags her nails up Chloe’s back to tangle in her hair. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are talking way too much right now.” She pulls her down into a kiss and tries to make her needs clear with the way she plays with Chloe’s tongue.

It must work because Chloe shifts off her until they’re side by side, Beca still on her back as Chloe presses close. Her hand frames Beca’s face for a particularly breathtaking kiss and then it’s drifting down, down the valley between her breasts, over the soft plane of her stomach, until it’s paused so, so close to where Beca needs it the most.

“Can I touch you?” Chloe whispers against Beca’s lips.

Beca would be embarrassed by the desperate plea of a response she gives if she wasn’t so far gone. She feels Chloe’s touch move lower until it’s grazing between her legs.

“Oh, my God,” Chloe says with an appreciative groan as her touch grows more assured. “Oh, wow. You’re so wet, baby.”

Beca’s heart can’t possibly pound any harder than it already is but if it could, it would at the sound of Chloe calling her “baby.” Instead, she nods and spreads her legs wider.

Chloe’s touch is torturous, exploratory, but Beca feels it getting more purposeful by the minute. She’s vaguely aware of the sounds falling from her lips. Her eyes flutter open wanting to look down and see what it looks like to have Chloe’s hand between her legs but when she does, she’s struck by Chloe’s eyes on her face, watching her intently.

Her touch becomes focused, firm pressure and slow circles over swollen flesh. “Like this?”

It makes Beca’s breath stutter and she manages to nod. Her left arm is pinned between them again but her right is free and her hand fists in the bedding as her hips start rocking in time with Chloe’s rhythm.

“God, you feel so good,” Chloe breathes; it’s hot against Beca’s neck and she’s ready for it when Chloe’s lips meet her skin again.

She wants to tell Chloe that no, it’s Chloe who feels so good right now but all she can muster is a moan and a breathy, “Faster.”

Chloe’s teeth tease her neck and she does as requested, moving in tighter, quicker circles against Beca that has her bucking desperately. It’s going to be over sooner than Beca would have liked, but something tells her this won’t be the last time they do this. Perhaps not even tonight.

The thoughts that fly through her mind are dirty. Filthy. She imagines the sound of the headboard banging steadily against the wall. Pictures herself astride Chloe’s face. Envisions burying her tongue inside Chloe whom she’s not yet even had the pleasure of touching.

It rocks her into orgasm and she hears Chloe in her ear, chanting her name, curse words, sounds.

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” is the first complete sentence she understands and it feels like she’s had no release at all, other than her temporary inability to move. “I don’t want to stop.” Chloe’s fingers don’t stop, but they are slow now, and gentler. “Do you want me to stop?”

Beca nods but she manages to smile and open her eyes. “Gimme a sec.”

Chloe looks as bewildered and hot as Beca feels so Beca purses her lips to ask to be kissed and when she does, it’s so hot and wet and desperate her thighs clench against Chloe’s hand and she nearly comes again just like that. But she catches herself and reaches for Chloe’s wrist to ease it from between her thighs. She has half a mind to drag it up and lick Chloe’s fingers but that feels the tiniest bit too bold.

She regrets it immediately because that’s exactly what Chloe does: unapologetically cleans Beca off her fingers with her mouth in an unfairly erotic display.

“God, Beca, you taste—“

Beca interrupts her by kissing her, and kissing her, and kissing her as she works her way onto her side so she can urge Chloe onto her back. She’s become painfully aware that she has barely begun to explore Chloe and has every intention of doing so—thoroughly.

It’s as though Chloe senses this because she seems to surrender. Her hands lie still above her head and though she’s kissing Beca and she’s still restless, she’s not demanding or directing anything.

Her limbs are still unsteady so Beca stays on her side. She lets her hand roam now that it’s free, grazing Chloe’s neck, tickling along her collar bones, down her sternum until her fingertips drift to find the curve of Chloe’s breast.

Beca can take her time now, and she does, trading kisses that are sometimes sweet, sometimes dirty as she teases an already-firm nipple to further hardness. It feels amazing beneath her palm and the way Chloe’s sighs border on moans are as reassuring as they are a dare to pull proper moans from her.

The first time Beca moves back, only a few inches to kiss her way down Chloe’s chest, Chloe swears under her breath. Her lips move over slight swell of Chloe’s right breast and she lets her hand drift to the other, mirroring the path her lips take until her tongue grazes the peak.

A sound escapes Chloe at the contact, a kind of broken, high whine that makes Beca do it again.

Chloe’s back arches this time, the first real movement that feels like she’s asking Beca for something, but Beca doesn’t need to be asked. Her tongue plays over the firm, pebbled flesh as her fingers tease the other before she palms it greedily as her lips take the other to suckle.

“Bec—“ Her voice is strained and Beca glances up to see her head thrown back, pressing into the pillow, and if she wasn’t so content to be where she is, she’d move back up to run her tongue over the tense lines of her throat.

Instead, she lets Chloe’s nipple slip from between her lips and when she starts to move to reach the other, decides to straddle Chloe again, but only so she can lie on the other side.

“I’m a lefty,” she says when Chloe looks at her in question at her relocation. But when Beca’s now-free dominant hand skates across her abdomen, Chloe moans in understanding.

Beca spends time there tracing the faint lines of Chloe’s defined muscles, the curves of her hips, the soft, warm skin along her side that makes Chloe huff a laugh and squirm when Beca touches it. She doesn’t tell her to stop it, though, so she files that away for the future as she leans down to take Chloe’s less-tended breast into her mouth, not so much teasing as claiming.

Chloe’s back arches again. “You’re going to kill me,” she says through a moan and her arms finally move, one coming down to press against Beca’s back and the other hand twisting in the blanket just as Beca had done.

“Maybe,” Beca says after letting the tip of Chloe’s breast slip from her lips. “Can you hold on a little longer, though?” Her hand travels down the top of Chloe’s thigh, then back up the inside halfway until she gives it a slight tug to ask Chloe to part her legs.

Which she does.

“No promises.” Chloe’s hips roll once even though the only place Beca’s touching her is her thigh and she seems to laugh at her own impatience.

Beca’s impatience has grown, too, so she can’t blame her. “This is okay?”

“Thank you for asking, but,” her hips twitch again, “you can do anything you want to me.”

Beca swallows and feels a shiver run through her body as she watches her hand drift higher, fingertips grazing the soft skin of Chloe’s inner thigh. Higher and higher, warmer and warmer as Chloe breathes heavily, until her fingers find heat and wetness.

Surprised to hear nothing in response, Beca looks up to find Chloe’s eyes closed tightly and her mouth open but silent. She doesn’t even seem to be breathing. Or moving. Every muscle in her both seems to be tense and Beca almost starts to worry until a shift of her fingers draws a gasp and her hips jerk unevenly.

“Oh, my God,” Beca says when she realizes what just happened. “Seriously?”

“Shut up,” Chloe says through a broken moan. “I warned you.”

“Wow.” It’s a struggle to not be smug when she managed to make this gorgeous woman fall apart with little more than foreplay. “Should I stop?”

Chloe’s answer is immediate. “No.” Her eyes finally open and Beca leans down to kiss her. She keeps her touch light to give Chloe time to recover. Chloe sighs into their kiss and something about it makes Beca’s toes curl and her hips shift, the way she can feel and hear and taste how much Chloe wants her right now.

She’s so caught up in it that she doesn’t notice Chloe’s hand moving until it’s over Beca’s to press her fingers flush with her body. She moans against Beca’s lips and starts trying to guide her.

Beca leaves Chloe’s lips in favor of her cheek, her jaw, her ear, her neck. “Are you saying I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Please, Beca. Just touch me.” It’s so desperate it almost sounds like a sob, so Beca kisses her soundly once more and then moves.

It’s one swift motion, skipping the teasing and the building of anticipation, as she moves down until she’s settling on her stomach between Chloe’s legs.

“Fuck,” she hears, a little strangled, above her and she looks up to find herself being watched as she blows a stream of cool are over the wet, swollen flesh begging for her attention. She slips her arms under Chloe’s thighs to rest her hands low on her stomach and uses her thumbs to pull back, to expose more of her and she watches Chloe’s head fall back to the pillow and her hands do the same, twisting into the pillow on either side.

Beca can actually see Chloe throbbing, even in the low light, and she doesn’t wait any longer. She leans down and touches her tongue to Chloe.

She half-expects her to come again but when she doesn’t, she’s not sure if she’s relieved that she gets to spend more time on her or if she’s disappointed.

She settles on ‘relieved’ because even if she had, there’s nothing disappointing about what’s happening right now, which is Chloe moaning and parting her legs further.

Beca takes her time learning how Chloe feels against her tongue, how she tastes, what spots make her hips jump and what spots make her hips grind. She focuses on the latter and laps at her, at the wetness, and lets Chloe move and grind and roll however she needs. It’s so sexy and Beca feels like she’s simply along for the ride, giving Chloe exactly what she wants.

The way Chloe had moaned with Beca when making her come, Beca learns, is nothing like what she sounds like when Beca’s tongue is between her legs.

She’s loud. And she swears. A lot. She’s the embodiment of wild abandon and while it’s not a big surprise to Beca, it’s a revelation nonetheless.

“You can touch me,” she says while taking a breath, catching one of Chloe’s flailing hands to pull it down until it tangles in Beca’s hair to pull. “Oh, shit,” she adds, moaning from the unexpected pleasure that comes with the sting.

Chloe moans, too, then moans louder when Beca pulls the sensitive, swollen bundle of nerves between her lips to suck on it, tongue still stroking it in her mouth.

Beca’s so turned on she can barely focus. She channels every ounce of what she has into what she’s doing and not into the slick throbbing between her own legs. She moans with Chloe, moves with her until strong thighs close against her ears and she hears, muffled, Chloe groan her name as she climaxes.

Everything is hot and wet and Beca whines in empathy as Chloe’s body rolls and twitches until it stills and her legs fall open.

Cool air rushes in and Beca takes a deep, much-needed breath (not that she would have any complaints about suffocating just then) and rests her head on Chloe’s thigh. There’s still a hand in her hair but now it’s smoothing, not pulling.

“Shit, Beca.”

Beca just hums and lets the tip of her tongue sneak out to tease and Chloe’s entire body jumps.

“Oh, wow. Okay.” Chloe laughs to herself and while Beca’s not sure what’s amusing, she doesn’t really care. She’s so painfully aroused she can barely think.

She waits until Chloe’s aftershocks subside and not a second longer before she pushes onto her hands and knees to move up until she’s astride Chloe’s waist. She bends down to kiss her.

“Touch me,” she asks. Begs, really. Before she brings their lips together.

Chloe moans and is greedy with her kiss and Beca’s about to ask again when she feels Chloe’s hand between her legs.

“God,” Chloe groans as her hand moves over Beca, her whole hand, not just a few fingers, gliding over her.

“Chlo…please…” she whines against her lips. “I’m so close.”

“Really?” Chloe sounds giddy at the information and Beca probably should have prepared herself more, but she didn’t, so she’s not exactly ready for what it will feel like to have Chloe slip inside her.

“Oh—fuck…” she groans and her hips move of their own accord and Chloe moans, too, and her entire body seems to move with Beca’s.

Chloe’s palm fits against her perfectly and Beca dares to open her eyes.

She considers it a mistake only in that seeing the way Chloe’s looking at her and meeting her eyes makes Beca come. It’s intense. And, Beca vaguely realizes with her ears and the way Chloe moves, she’s not alone in her ecstasy.

It only adds to the intensity and she feels like she could pass out from ecstasy.

But she doesn’t.

It passes and what little strength she had left to hold herself up was expended and she collapses on top of Chloe, face buried in her neck and the pillow. She would apologize for squishing her if she could but all Chloe does is wrap her arms around Beca and pull her in even closer.

There’s a lot floating around in Beca’s brain but she can’t make much sense of any of it. Happy. Content. Warm. Tired. Somehow still horny. Safe.

“God, Beca,” Chloe breathes against her ear and she feels lips against it, whether purposeful or not, but it doesn’t matter, “I’ve never—“ she swallows “—I’ve never come that hard before. With anyone. Or alone.”

Beca feels her ears burning, maybe from Chloe’s lips but mostly the words and she tries to burrow further into hiding. “Same,” she finally admits before biting at the curve of Chloe’s neck. Not hard. Playfully.

Chloe hums and Beca feels her hands start drawing peaceful, relaxing patterns on her back and she soaks it in for a few minutes before shuffling until she’s lying on the bed more than on Chloe, but she keeps her leg over Chloe’s and her arm tucked against her chest so her fingers can play with the ends of Chloe’s hair, or follow the sharp line of her jaw, or creep up to trace her lips.

“I’m glad we didn’t wait,” Beca finally says to break the cozy silence.

The hand still on her back shifts to tickle along her spine. “Me, too.” Chloe sighs. “Imagine not knowing what this would feel like for another month. Or two? How long were you going to have us wait?”

Beca laughs and draws invisible lines between the freckles on Chloe’s chest until she finds herself wetting her finger in her mouth and starting to tease a nipple back to attention. “Only until I felt like I could trust myself to not do something to scare you off.”

Chloe shivers and Beca watches her flesh harden beneath her touch. It looks like magic.

“I’ve never been a flight risk.” Beca can hear Chloe’s heartbeat from where her ear rests against the soft spot between her chest and shoulder and its pace is steadily increasing.

“I don’t usually dive right in when I meet someone I like.” Beca knows she's oversimplifying her chronic relationship strife, but that's for another time.

“So you like me?”

Beca can hear the tease in Chloe’s voice and she tweaks the nipple she’s toying with, earning her a pleasant-sounding gasp. “You’re okay.”

“Just okay?” This time, her voice drips with suggestiveness and it makes Beca tilt her head up until she’s kissing the underside of her chin.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind keeping you around.” She says it without really thinking and on playback, she panics. “I mean—I didn’t mean to assume—we don’t have to define anything—”

“Beca,” Chloe says, her free hand moving to cover the one Beca’s been using to tease her. “I’d love it if you kept me around.”

She relaxes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Chloe’s hand squeezes over Beca’s and Beca can hear the low sound that rumbles in Chloe’s chest. “You’re getting me all worked up again.”

“Damn,” Beca says with a smile as she lifts her head to look down at a flushed Chloe.

“Yeah,” Chloe smiles back as Beca leans down to kiss her. “Damn.”

~ ~ ~

The end

#bechloe #bechloe au #lifeguard au #fanfic #bechloe fic

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atopearth · 5 years ago

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Fate/hollow ataraxia Part 2 - Food is Bliss (Phase 2)

What?! So, Bazett dying is something normal? She dies, he takes her home and she starts breathing again eventually?? Or does it just restart back in this house after they both die? Wow, they can practically never die since they’ll always revive back at the house, unfairrr! Anyway, Avenger huh? I guess he’s Angra Mainyu? Since he sounds like just a culmination of all the hatred and violence, whilst also being someone that’s weak enough that he can’t physically fight and win against other Servants? I guess it’s good that Bazett is his Master then since she’s so great at hand to hand combat~ Did Bazett actually summon two Servants? And the other one was Lancer and that’s why he’s able to stay in this world even though Kotomine is gone? Actually maybe she just made a contract with Lancer? I’m not sure how I feel about Bazett as a character, in a way she’s interesting in that she fights to protect the “correct” way of life, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like she really cares since she seems to just feel like she needs to do this rather than this is what she wants to do? On the other hand, Avenger definitely has more thoughts and feelings towards things than he lets out with his superficial personality that he shows to kinda hide what’s inside.

Anyway, is that ghost house Shirou went to the place where Bazett and Avenger revive? Omgg hahaha, I love how when Sakura and Shirou had to cook dinner for heaps of people on the weekend, they started early on the brainstorming as to what they should cook, and when they were doing it, Shirou would refer to her as Chef Matou and Sakura would call him Chief Emiya hahahaa, they’re so cute! I think it’s one of the few times you actually get to see Sakura get full on cooking guidance from Shirou rather than the usual where they kinda just help each other out cooking their own thing. I wish we got to see the reactions of everyone eating the persimmon dinner! It would have been fun! I wanted to see the fruits of their efforts~ Oh well. It’s kinda saddening to think but it’s true that above all else, Rider is a monster that can and will eat humans if it comes to it, I mean, in the Fate route etc, it was apparent that she was unnerved over killing and devouring humans after all. As she said, she’s never been a noble spirit like Saber. LOL at Shirou wondering how it could be possible that young Gilgamesh is a nice little boy hahahah. I love their after dinner antics, lmao at Taiga losing her after dinner snacks to Saber through blackjack, she really gambles everything away haha. It was cute how Shirou scolded them🤣

Lmaoo, trust Illya to tease Saber for having a stuffed lion toy and then forcing Shirou to go buy her one too lol. HAHAHA, I love how Shirou teased Mitsuzuri’s little brother (Minori) about liking Sakura and tried to dig why he likes her🤣 Gotta love how much of a spoiled brat Taiga is to knee drop Shirou to play with her when he’s trying to sleep lmao. Honestly though, with the relationship Shirou and Taiga have, I can’t deny that I kinda wanted a Taiga route in FSN haha. Omg, I nearly died laughing at Shinji sulking at the harbour port for appearing only 3 times in the game when Sakura’s appeared so many times hahahahah. It feels like Shirou is the most smitten with Saber after all~ It was so cute when she discussed with him why bras and underwear had to have so many designs lmao. LOL, so it was Rin the troublemaker that told Saber to consult Shirou about it just because she thought it would be funny hahahahha. It was pretty hilarious when she insisted on Shirou accompanying her to the lingerie shop and Shirou ran away, but the icing on the cake was when Sakura and Rider overheard their conversation and Sakura wished her good luck on this quest lmaoo. Btw, I love how Shirou experiments making different snacks and he gets Saber the glutton to try them hahaha, so cute. Omgg Saber’s face enjoying Shirou’s baked sweet potatoes was so precious, she looked so happy🥺🥰 Lmao at Lancer picking up Makidera and them, and even saying his speciality is the javelin throw, I guess he’s not exactly wrong or lying hahahaha. Lancer being a part time florist is definitely a win win situation for him, he gets to pick up girls and earn some money haha!

I quite enjoyed Mitsuzuri’s meeting with Lancer, they got along pretty well due to their interest in martial arts etc, Mitsuzuri was so cuteee! I love how Shirou ended up bringing the party of Saber, Sakura and Rider to help clean Rin’s house hahaha, it’s true that with all her antiques and carpets etc it can be rather difficult by himself, not to mention how large the place is too! HAHAHA when Saber changed into her armour to clean Rin’s house. Lmaooo at Saber thinking all the gym equipment in the basement was what Rin tried to use as a catalyst to summon her but failed, it was so adorable when she started playing around with them all instead of cleaning hahahah, didn’t think Saber would be a bludger!🤣 It was really sweet to see Sakura’s reactions to things around the house, it was so adorable how she talked about Rin giving her the precious handmade ribbon (that’s on her hair) as a parting gift and saying Sakura has to repay it with a compounding interest rate lmao. It’s cute how she wanted Sakura to always feel connected to her through this “debt ”. Awww how cute of Saber to play with the lion plushie and even sleep with it at night!! She’s so cute!! Shirou totally deserved Saber’s wrath for teasing her about it so ruthlessly hahahah. Sakura is so mischievous! She literally just wrote down everything Shirou said in the letter to Rin hahaha, I love Sakura in this, she’s so cute but cunning at the same time hahaha. Omggg how embarrassing for Sakura that Shirou caught her hugging his jacket so lovingly hahahah! So cute though when she got all flustered. It was really thoughtful of her to notice that his button fell off and sewed it back for him.

Aww Rider going to school just to give Sakura and Shirou their lunches (that Sakura forgot) was cute, I also really enjoyed how Shirou ended up buying her food for them to enjoy together on the rooftop, it was really sweet of him. I don’t know, but Saber welcoming Shirou home and thanking him for his hard work at his job was so heartwarming, it really made me think she was such a great girl. I can’t believe this but my love for Rin is going to be at the same level as Saber if this goes on hahaha, Rin come back soon pls. I found it hilarious that Rider is so dissatisfied with bike number two that is mainly used for casual shopping, and really wants to use bike number one which is a racing bike, but Shirou is scared that she’ll be zooming around the neighbourhood like a rocket and refuses, which is very logical!! Lmao, just imagining Rider at her superhuman speed riding on that bike is killing me hahaha. Omg hahahah, that silly drawing of him imagining Rider being chased by the police on the bike and her escaping happily was so funny and cute LOL. Hahahaha, I loved how Rider tried to use her seductive skills to make Shirou bend to her will so she can use the bike, but then Sakura appears overhearing them, so she immediately runs away and leaves Shirou to deal with the misunderstanding hahahah. Honestly though, seeing Saber and Sakura co-operate happily making pie and enjoying the fruits of their efforts was so cute. They used to be rather awkward even though they got along relatively okay, so it’s pretty nice and refreshing to see that if they had the time to bond more, they could actually be so friendly.

I think I’m starting to see how and why some people might like Fate/hollow ataraxia more than the original game, because wow, seeing Sakura grow so much and become the captain of the archery club was so cool. I absolutely loved how resolute and strong she was, and I loved how she scolded Taiga for being a nuisance hahaha. It was so funny yet so cool to see that. And it’s not something sudden too, because Mitsuzuri stayed, supported and guided her into establishing more self confidence in herself into being a worthy captain so I’m glad it all worked out. Although it’s obvious Sakura would be a great captain seeing how she carries herself at the Emiya household haha. I also absolutely loved how she fed Shirou the obanyaki when they went shopping after, and it was honestly so beautiful and heartwarming to see how truly happy Sakura was. Not only is she now able to have a proper life where she’s spending time with people in the club and making friends with others whilst actually playing around doing other activities, she is also able to truly live for herself and not live in fear of anything in the Matou household. It’s so wonderful to see how nothing is holding her back anymore, and honestly this is the best ending for Sakura, or I guess, it’s more like a new beginning for her! I’m so glad they showed all this. Sakura used to think she didn’t have the right to play around and stuff, so seeing her enjoy all that made me feel really satisfied haha.

Confused Caster walking around the shopping district wondering what she should buy to make for dinner was cute haha. HAHAHA, I love how Caster and Sakura became friends because Lancer was trying to pick up Sakura and Caster hates his flippy attitude so she taught him a lesson lol. It was even more hilarious when Sakura subtly kept badmouthing Rin for using Shirou like a servant and Shirou not minding it hahaha, I think it was pretty funny how Shirou didn’t even realise or he ignored the fact that Sakura was talking about him and Rin haha. Omgg snake wine with a snake in it?! Reminds me of the crazy Chinese concoctions hahaha. Anyway, I really loved how persistent but considerate Shirou was into finding out what Rider likes to eat and what she doesn’t eat. I think it was really cool that rather than giving up after she said she doesn’t particularly mind whatever he and Sakura cooks, he instead asked her to come to the kitchen and get her to choose what she would prefer to eat from the ingredients they have. I really love how thoughtful Shirou is in changing his approach several times in order to get Rider to enjoy her food rather than just feel apathetic about it all. Lmao at Saber getting jealous that she doesn’t get to choose even though Shirou asks her what she wants to eat all the time hahaha. LMAO at Saber’s reaction to octopus and not realising she’s been gobbling it up all this time when she ate takoyaki hahahah. I love how through their “fight” about the weird things they eat, Shirou gets to understand a bit more about what Rider actually prefers to eat. Rin is hilarious for making Saber wear the fancy clothes Caster sent to them hahahah, it was so cute how traumatised Saber was hahaha. Shirou imagining Issei in a frilly dress was LOL, that cursed image hahaha. Hahahaha, I love how Saber didn’t give up on eating high class food when Shirou told her they were poor, and instead said that they should raise/make the ingredients themselves so that they could cook it in the future. It was so cute when she started talking about raising ducks and pigs hahhaha. Issei being fond of sweets is cute haha.

I don’t know why but I never thought about Kiritsugu’s grave at all lol! I never thought it would be in the forest at the Ryuudou Temple graveyard though! I wonder if Illya and Saber would ever go visit…but then again, Shirou doesn’t even go so I think it’ll be harder for them. Wow, I didn’t think I needed it, but hearing Kuzuki call Caster his wife and leave her in Shirou’s hands (to learn cooking lmao) was so..amusing LOL. On the other hand, Reikan (Issei’s brother) is a pretty cool guy! He’s chill, full of confidence but also a strict serious guy, I can see why Issei would admire him. He gets along nicely with Taiga since they were classmates so it’s pretty cute. I…feel so sorry for Shirou that he was caught between Otoko/Neko (his part time job boss) and Taiga, they’re monsters… Hmmm, the actual story part is quite short as usual. It was expected that the white hair girl was the one who restarted the holy grail war, but why does she become possessed and have claws come out of her? Poor Shirou dieddd! Is she hiding a monster inside that comes out when it meets Shirou at the wrong time? Hahaha. Anyway, I’m curious about her so I hope we’ll get more story stuff in phase 3.

#fate hollow ataraxia

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patrick-donovan · 5 years ago

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TEACHER | THATTIEMELT

WHEN: June 2nd, 2020.

WHERE: Thea Hudson’s house.

WHO: Thea Hudson & Patrick Donovan

EVENT: Thea invites Patrick over and lets him use some of her drawing materials and it kinda escalates.

PATRICK: Patrick hadn’t really slept for the past couple of days. It had mostly been because of the whole situation; he didn’t want to go to sleep, because he didn’t want to miss out on any opportunity there might have been, to go home. He was still not feeling completely safe with going to sleep, and had only gotten a few hours here and there. The thought of his parents having to mourn him, absolutely broke his heart. But it meant that he was getting grumpy. No sleep and no appetite made him irritated and even more frustrated that he couldn’t do anything about it.

Unfortunately for him, he’d ended up taking it slightly out on Thea. He hadn’t meant to be so grumpy, but it had just sort of happened; her pushing him to get a job and settle down on the island was something that had ticked him off. He knew he wasn’t in the right for saying some of the things he had, especially not after what Thea had been through, and he felt bad.

He’d just gotten out of the shower when Thea had messaged about the class assignment that Patrick hadn’t signed up for. He was too tired to even consider doing it, not sure if he was in the right mindset for doing such a thing; he was focusing on trying to get off of the island anyway. He’d gotten himself ready after that, and she’d soon invited him over after he’d protested about the way that everything was run, his homesickness, his lack of creativity - and he honestly didn’t understand why. He’d been complaining and yet she still invited him to come over. The girl was truly something else, and Patrick knew that.

Clad in a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt and a blue denim shirt over, Patrick knocked on the door to Thea’s giant mansion, once again. He rolled up his sleeves as he waited for her to answer, softly biting his bottom lip in anticipation. She had that effect on him.

THEA: Thea had been struggling today to try to help Skylar as much as she could and also just trying to figure out how to get back into her Domme headspace after everything that was going on. It was definitely not the first nor the last time she would probably feel this way. But at the moment she was trying to be a Domme in a nonsexual way. Encouraging Patrick to get a job and not talk poorly, making sure to get Skye to find her hard limits during her recovery.

When she had messaged the male, she didn't realize he was still having these types of thoughts after he had been over yesterday and said nothing about them. It worried her. And she knew it would take time to adjust and figure out what exactly this island was, and the only she probably adjusted so quickly was because of her lifestyle back home and also her siblings being here. And so she figured she needed to show some patience with Patrick. She was hoping that coming over would help.

Thea was back in her everyday fashionable attire, a small skirt and tight top. She had told Skye that Patrick was coming over and she had told her that she would be in her room. Thea made her way downstairs when she heard the door and opened it to find him waiting. "Hey," she said calmly.

PATRICK: It wasn't the first time that it was sort of tense between the Hudson girl and him. There had been many arguments and fights over the past five years of them knowing each other - over silly little things that weren't even relevant. And usually, it was Patrick who would apologize and try to make things good again, hating that weird "distance" between them. But this was different; it wasn't a silly little thing that wasn't relevant. This was incredibly relevant. It was their lives. And Patrick didn't want that tension to be there now. He wanted it to be like yesterday, when his primary goal had been to cheer the girl up, get a laugh out of her and make sure that she'd smiled at least 40 times during his short visit.

He thought he was going to be on a high and float around on a pink sky, after she had kissed him, but his thoughts and brain had screwed him over on that one, when he'd laid down to go to sleep and thought about his parent's Sunday routine. He wanted to feel like he'd just won the lottery, again, but the thoughts inside of his mind were just too heavy.

It kind of disappeared when he saw Thea in front of him though. It was so easy to get caught up in her beauty; that was why it was so easy for Patrick to draw her. A small smile grew on his lips. God, it was so obvious how smitten he was with this girl. He walked up to her and moved in to give her cheek a kiss. "What's up?" He greeted her and pulled away to take a look at her, his smile still there. "Are you okay?"

THEA: Seeing him smile, she thought maybe he could get over this sadness. But she couldn't be with him 24/7 to help him forget that this place wasn't home. Thea missed home a lot too, but she also had a lot of privileges here that she didn't have back home. So, she couldn't quite relate to his sadness for the moment. Thea let him kiss her cheek before walking him a bit more inside to close the doors. "Not much," she said before looking over his expression as she nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just want you to understand, but don't know how I can make you understand. But right now, I think drawing might help relax you, and get you into a better headspace." She said as she gently took his hand. "Skylar doesn't feel like being social, by the way, sorry." She guides him up to her studio area where she had brought out her sketchpad for him.

PATRICK: It was all of the free time that Patrick had, especially when he was alone, that made him think about things; if he was distracted by someone or something else, he was fine. Which was why he so badly needed to paint or draw again. He couldn't take the loneliness and boredom, because it made his mind spiral out of control. He didn't want to feel that way, especially not around Thea. Back in New York, it had been so easy for him to just go and sulk alone whilst painting something, or sketching a random thing down in his book, and it had meant that he wouldn't take it out on anyone else. He couldn't do that here. At least not until his best friend had mentioned the supplies that she had. Thea was completely right. Drawing something would definitely help him relax. "I've always wondered why Van Gogh cut his ear off, y'know? It's making more and more sense to me, these days," His tone was teasing; he knew the original story. And Thea knew Patrick too well, to know that making art would help. He looked down at their hands holding. It had all happened so fast, but Patrick was grateful that he was actually moving into a territory with Thea, where they could share little intimate things like hand-holding and cheek kisses. "No, no, don't apologize. I can always see her, in a couple of days when she's had time to recover," Patrick said, alluding to the fact that he probably wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon. He looked at the supplies in front of him; she had it all, but that was probably down to the fact that she had to sketch her designs. "Thank you for doing this, by the way; letting me use your things." He turned to her and smiled softly, his eyes locking with hers. "A knife can only do so much on a plate, it's not quite the same as a pencil or a brush."

THEA: She rolled her eyes, "Now you're being just as dramatic as ever," Thea shook her head before giving a small smile as she wonders what Skylar was doing up in the room she was in anyway. "Yeah, she definitely needs friends surrounding her," she agreed, genuinely worried for sister's well-being. It felt like Skye was saying something without saying anything when she had told her that Patrick was here. So, now she just would live how she would until told what exactly was wrong, if anything actually was wrong after all. Shutting the door behind the two of them so that way the noise wouldn't bother her sister. She watched Patrick take in the space as she smiled and gave a small shrug. There were two desks, one with her fabrics and sewing machine the other one for sketching. She grabbed the seat from the desk filled with fabrics. There was a half-finished outfit on the mannequin but still so much more space. "Oh, c'mon, why would I keep this away from you? I've got some watercolors and colored pencils if you want to have at those as well." She let her eyes look into his, "Well it's a good thing that I have both of those then," she gives a soft smile before standing back up to grab a few more materials out for him. "So, just draw what you feel and get your catharsis."

PATRICK: "Does that come as a surprise to you?" Patrick asked, a small smirk lurking on his lips. Thea helped him tremendously to feel better, but he knew that he couldn't rely on her. She was someone who had been there, in his life, for such a long time, and they had done so many things together, so she had become this beacon a positivity in Patrick's adventures on the island, reminding him of all the good things that were there. "How do people treat her here, do you know? Other than the whole Switch thing that's apparently offensive to someone," he paused, rolling his eyes at the thought. It was ridiculous. "She's not got beef with anyone, right?" Patrick asked her, biting down on the inside of his lip. That had been another thing that had kept him awake; worrying about Skye and the attack, if he was in any danger at all. He sat down at the desk with all of the drawing materials and was ready to just get going and actually make something now. "Just wait and see, I'm gonna create some magic here." Before too long, the pencil was hard at work on the paper, lines coming into existence, slowly letting a figure take form. Patrick's face scrunched up as he concentrated, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his eyes stayed focused on the piece of paper. The figure was slowly coming to life, and with one last line going across, Patrick breathed out, satisfied with his work. Then he ripped the piece of paper out and was about to give it to Thea. Maybe he shouldn't? Maybe it was for the best if he didn't. Clenching his jaw again, he made a decision to go against his doubt, and he leaned over to give it to Thea. It showed her sat with her head in her hands, clearly upset. He'd only seen hee like that once - when Skylar had disappeared, back in New York. She was so good at keeping it together and not show anyone her vulnerability, but that moment had struck a chord in his memory, and the image of her sat like that, in total despair, had remained.

THEA: "I suppose it shouldn't be at this point," she said with a small smile before she felt herself tense a bit when the conversation came to her sister. "I mean...she doesn't really like talking to most people in general." Thea gives a shrug and shake of her head, "Um not really, not that I know of, why?" She asked not seeing what the relevance was. But she decided to add, "You know, she would probably be a good person to talk to about being a Switch and helping you figure things out as a Switch," she adds not wanting to put Skye on the spot right now while she was still recovering, but thinking it would be smart for them to know they were in this together. Once she was done placing everything down, she laughed at Patrick's comment, "Alright, alright, let's see what you got." She said before watching him a moment as he was in the mode. She had seen that face various times and it was odd to see it now, in this whole different place. While she waited, she did a sketch of her own, a dress she had been thinking about for a couple of days now. She didn't quite finish it when she heard the paper rip out and she looked back towards him. She watched his hesitancy, confused as to what exactly he was worried about as he had given her plenty of his sketches before. Leaning over to take the paper she looked at it and her heart sunk as she looked at it. It made her look weak and helpless. She remained silent for a moment before giving it back to him. "Why did you draw that?"

PATRICK: Patrick had met Skye only a handful of times through Thea; it was inevitable since they lived together in New York, and Patrick sometimes came over. He liked the girl and her sass - it seemed to be a trademark of the Hudson sisters, and Patrick enjoyed that. He shrugged his shoulders at her question, that being the answer. "I was just wondering," yeah, wondering if they could somehow figure out who had done all of this and punish them for the crime that they had committed. And not punish them the way that Matthias had punished Patrick for not including titles when speaking to him. "I know that she can take care of herself, she's like you," his hand moved up to pinch his nose quickly, his gaze falling to the floor. "You're both really independent. Stubborn. But that's a given," a small smile lingered as he looked up at her after he'd said that. "But that's not enough for anyone to have a grudge against someone," Patrick knew that it came down to the whole Switch thing, everyone had said so themselves. It seemed like they were specifically targeted for some reason. "What's so wrong about being a Switch here?" He asked her, his eyebrows furrowing.

Patrick kept his eyes on Thea, wanting to see her expression. He knew that she didn't want to be seen in that kind of "negative" way, but Patrick found it beautiful. It resonated with him. "Because that's how I feel," he said, not hesitating that time. Maybe it was how she felt as well, after everything with Skye? He didn't know, he didn't want to just assume her feelings. But he knew that the hopelessness that her posture represented in that drawing was exactly how he felt about being on the island. Quietly, he turned back to the desk and started the next one. He could feel the tension and anger leave his body with each line he drew.

THEA: Thea gave a small nod as she adds, "She may be able to take care of herself, but it doesn't mean she shouldn't have to do this all alone, but I know that's not what you meant." She gave a small smile as he complimented her resilience, letting out a little bit of a laugh. "Yes, it's just in our DNA," she agrees before turning a bit more serious. She shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, the people who think that it's wrong? They are the ones who are in the wrong. They're the problem. They think that just because Switches weren't one of the original marks you could have and it's only about Doms and Subs in a relationship that one person can't be both. And they're stupid and I hate them." She said as she started to feel a bit more anger about what happened to her sister, but tried to release that tension as it wasn't going to help Patrick.

When he told her that the reason he drew it was because it was how he felt, she felt her heart hurt as she leaned forward a bit and kissed the side of his forehead. "I'm sorry, Pattie," she said softly as he goes back to drawing. She once again also turns back to her own sketch, figuring out what type of material she would want for it as she erased a few little details and corrected them.

PATRICK: "Yeah, no, definitely not. It's a good thing that she's got you, Thee," He told her. She probably knew that already, but he wanted to tell her. He was so proud of her, how she'd gone out of her way to make sure that her sister wasn't alone at any point in time, making sure that she was safe in her home, and seemingly dealing with crap from other people on top of it all. It was a lot, and he wanted her to know that she'd done an amazing job. She was using her stubbornness for something that benefitted both of the girls. Patrick listened to her as she explained. It didn't make sense to him, how people could care about something so much that they would harm another person. To Patrick, compassion was one of the most important things in life. His lips went into a straight line and he shook his head in pure anger, disappointed that it was such a problem. "But, it means that I could potentially offend someone, just because of my preferences?" It was the kind of danger that Patrick couldn't be bothered to deal with, it wasn't anyone's problem but his own, and it didn't make much of a difference to anyone else's life. Knowing that someone had taken it personally and almost like a threat to them, and then taken it out on poor Skylar broke his heart.

Thea's kiss was welcomed. He didn't want her to feel sorry for him, because he wasn't the type of person to be pitied, but the kiss caused a wave of reassurance through his body; he knew that, even if he didn't have his family, he did have her. She was important to him. He appreciated the gesture. "You don't have to apologize," He told her softly, his dark brown eyes finding her hazel ones. "This is helping, a lot." He said, gesturing to the art. He was really thankful that she'd let him use her things for now, until he got a job and a steady income to buy his own supplies.

Patrick's style when drawing was more realistic, than when he painted; they were considered to be abstract expressionism, and he was moody and aggressive when he painted. Drawing was different. He paid attention to details in his drawings, and while they were quicker to do and didn't require a whole lot of brain power, it was good practice for him, and it stimulated him in ways that only sex really could. Looking over to his side, Patrick took in Thea's features as she sat there. The way her jawline curved sharply, her long eyelashes curling upwards, her round cheeks and those damn lips; they were red and full, and something that Patrick wanted to feel against his own again. If he tried hard enough, he could still feel the way his lips had been buzzing, when he’d walked home after their make-out session.

After a while, Patrick had produced yet another drawing, this time of Thea in the moment, and the way that she had been concentrating on her own work. He once again ripped the paper out and placed it on the table. He was getting pumped about feeling creative again. Leaning over, Patrick peeked at the work that the girl was doing. He looked serious as he said, “That fabric makes me itch, you’re not getting me into that,” He joked deadpan, but wasn’t able to hold it for much longer and soon enough cracked a smile. He got up from his seat and walked up to stand behind her, his hands moving into her hair as he pulled it back gently. Then he leaned down, his lips almost ghosting her ear. “But you can get me out of this.” He whispered, referencing to his clothes. It was a typical Patrick-move.

THEA: Thea felt her anger starting to get to her about the whole subject as it had a few nights ago. It made her want to punch a wall and burn down houses and break shit and even then it wouldn't have been enough at the moment because her sister was not okay and the guy who did this to her still could be out there. "Fuck the people that are offended by your mark, Patrick. They mean less than nothing. Don't go near them if you can help it," she warned him as she wanted to leave the subject at that.

She said gently, "I know I don't have to apologize, but I wouldn't want anyone to feel the way I felt that day or any of the worst days of my life." Thea commented as she kept her eyes on him. She gave a small smile, rubbing at the back of his head for a moment before nodding, "I'm glad it's helping," she said to Patrick as she felt a proud feeling of at least she was doing something right.

After a bit more time of perfect the look of the lace on the dress she thought that maybe it was done and with perfect timing too as she heard the sound of paper ripping once again. She looked over at the drawing with a smile. Patrick had sketched plenty of similar things of her, probably to the point that he could fit a whole art gallery with them. She had kept all of them in a shoe box in her apartment. If she was having a bad day she would look through them and it would help. She wondered what happened to that box now.

She saw that his eyes wandered over to her sketch, and she looked up at him and said in a matching tone, "Well then it's a good thing it's not for you," Thea retorted before she watched him get up, feeling his presence now behind her, his hands moving through her hair. She felt the heat of his body move closer towards hers as he whispered in her ear, telling her to take off his clothes. If Thea was a Submissive, she would have melted, yet she was not and she turned her head to look at him, "I promised my sister it would only be kissing today."

PATRICK: Patrick hated the discrimination that existed. If he absolutely had to be sucked into a pocket dimension, couldn't he have been sucked into one where all these social problems didn't exist? He didn't want to talk about it anymore, he knew that nothing good was going to come out of it, unless he found a way to revolt against all of it, and even then, he relied on hope that it would actually work, and that he wouldn't get punished. The latter result seemed to be more possible than anything else. "I won't. I'm good at taking care of myself, and I don't plan on getting hurt by anyone."

Smiling softly, Patrick almost purred at the feeling of her hand at the back of his head. The way she touched him made something within him feel more alive. Like she'd turned a switch on and electricity was flying through his body. He was a big fan of that feeling. She had a way of making him feel comfortable and safe. "You're helping," He softly corrected her, smiling.

Slightly disappointed that his flirting wasn't working wonders on the girl, he had to remind himself that she had been immune to his charms from day one, for several years. Not everyone would melt under his touch, and he knew that, but after years of pretty much getting what he wanted, it still felt like a slap in the face when he got rejected. Shrugging his shoulders, he moved to kneel down beside her. "I'll happily take what I can get," He said, remembering how her kisses had been one of the highlights of the past couple of days. He want content with that decision, so he leaned up, one hand on her knee and his other hand moving up and under her hair and to the back of her head to pull her in for a deep kiss, finally connecting his lips with hers.

THEA: She was thankful that they didn't have to talk anymore about it. And once Patrick had finished his first painting he was starting feeling better. A small smile went on her lips as he corrected her statement, letting him her know that the act of painting wasn't the only thing that was helping, but that she was in general helping him. Thea let out a small sigh of relief at that.

But it wasn't until after the second painting that he started to get a bit antsy. Thea watched over his expression and grinned as he knelt down. "See, you are starting to get the idea a bit," she teases at the way he was on his knees. Although she felt a bit odd with him him trying to take charge. She leaned forward to kiss him in return. Her hands moving to his shoulders as she slides her tongue instantly into the kiss, thinking of the drawings he had just been doing for her as she makes out with him.

PATRICK: There was this give-and-take relationship between the two of them that made sense and worked. He'd tried being there for her, when she'd found out about Skylar, and now, she was there for him, letting him do this thing and helping him express his thoughts and feelings. Granted, he'd only drawn two pictures, and they were both of Thea, he figured they were both a good representation of what it was like for him, at the moment. She'd been more supportive than he could ever have dreamt of.

But there was still that adjustment that he had to make to the whole thing. She was a Domme, and he knew that. She wanted to be in charge, and he was flexible, only really caring about pleasing her and doing what she wanted, so she could be satisfied. But he also wanted to show her how grateful he was, how much he'd missed her, even if it had only been a couple of days they'd gone without speaking to one another. He wanted to let her know that he had this love and affection for her, and that he had a hard time expressing that outside of art and sex. That was why he had kissed her and initiated this make-out session. That was why he muttered the next thing. "Teach me?"

With a sharp intake of breath, Patrick felt her tongue against his. He felt a flutter in his stomach, and the skin on the back of her neck felt like silk under his fingertips. He moved his hand to cup her cheek, as his lips danced with hers, and his body leaned further and further into hers, wanting, no, needing to be closer with her.

THEA: Thea was enjoying kissing him, he told her to teach him and it was all she could do to rip off all his clothes right now and teach him a lesson on being a Submissive sexually. But Thea also felt like he may need a lesson on what it meant to be nonsexually too. She didn't know how to reel this back in. He already knew her as a friend, as equals. But now she would have to figure out how to discern between the two. She was able to do it with Kurt, but then again they were never sexual. Thea thought how it was a good thing that Patrick and her had not been sexual yet. "Do you want to be my little bitch?" She murmured against his lips.

She sat in her chair still, enjoying the fact that Patrick was on his knees as she was happy to kiss him, but Thea only pulled her lips away when she felt that need to breathe. But then she looked down at him. "If I teach you, you have to listen and take in what I say. Understood?" She said while looking down at him, "You have to learn how to be good."

PATRICK: Patrick had always enjoyed being dominated in the bedroom; it rarely happened, because of the people that he slept with were naturally submissive to him, when he initiated things, but the few times that someone had taken charge, he'd been absolutely ecstatic. To hear Thea speak to him like that was new and something that he didn't expect, but he didn't hate it. Even if they were just kissing for now, he couldn't help but find it incredibly hot - whatever she wanted to do with him, he would do. He nodded into the kiss, happy to oblige. "Please," He sighed. "Make me your bitch."

Both of his hands had moved down to her thighs, slowly rubbing them. The fabric of Thea's skirt slipped out of his fingers every now and again and he could feel her soft her skin was, but he didn't dare to go under her skirt, not when she'd wanted them to stay at a safe level, and just kiss. He looked up at her, his smile having faded as he listened intently. "I understand. I'll be good, Miss Hudson." This time, he didn't have a problem with saying it, because this was different. This was him being willing to learn, seeking it out, and not being forced to do anything that he wasn't ready for.

THEA: She kissed with even more passion as he seemed to want to learn what it really meant to be in a Dominant/Submissive styled relationship. Thea had expected at some point he would figure it out, but it was a lot sooner than she had expected. Thea was definitely collecting Switch bitches now it seemed. The only thing she was nervous for now was how this might affect their friendship. But it was obvious they were bringing things to the next level anyway as she had her tongue in his mouth.

Thea felt his hands and tried her best not to feel wet, but her body couldn't help but reacting, but she wouldn't show that to Patrick. She wouldn't indulge him with that quite yet. When she looked over his face, a smirk rising on her lips, "Good bitch," she said softly before standing up so she was towering over him. "Now, before every scene starts, a Dominant will ask for you safe words, your hard limits, and sometimes your soft limits. Tell me yours."

PATRICK: To go from friends for so many years, to suddenly kissing and now to him being Submissive to her was a drastic change. He hadn't seen it coming at all, but he didn't mind it. It made him focus his energy on that, instead of him being stuck on the island. There was still a huge amount of fear that this was ruining their friendship. It was one of the things he'd thought about when he'd returned home after their first make-out sesh. He didn't want to lose Thea, and while he figured that they were both adult enough to completely destroy their friendship, he was still absolutely terrified about what would happen. Patrick was normally really chill, and took things one day at a time, not one for worrying about things in advance, but with Thea it was different, because he actually valued their friendship a lot.

She looked so powerful as she stood there in front of him, her long and lean legs right there for him to touch and kiss. But he didn't. He remained calm, following her orders of keeping it strictly to kissing. "My safe word is 'Voodoo'. I don't do anything that involves bodily fluids, like watersports, scat or vomit," He let out a deep breath, his eyes raking over her body. He wanted to touch her so badly, he could feel his fingers itching to do so. "I might be okay with letting you peg me at some point, but not today, Miss." Licking his lips, he moved his eyes upwards to finally connect with hers. "How can I satisfy you?"

THEA: Thea looked down at him as she gave a nod as she listened to his words. She moved to pet his face a bit, a bigger grin moving across his face as he told her he would be interested in pegging. "Well, I do enjoy getting my dick out for special bitches," she smirks as she moves her fingers to stroke under his chin for a moment as she shook her head. "Well, we won't be doing anything sexual today, but don't you worry, I'll keep that in mind. I think your heart might explode if you saw me naked, so we'll work up to it." She teases Patrick a bit before sliding her hand down the side of his face. "I want you to think of a title that you would like to call me while you are my Submissive, that is your first task."

PATRICK: Patrick let out a light moan at the feeling of her fingers. It felt like they sent sparks through his body, and he was melting under her touch. "And I'm a special bitch?" Patrick asked her, a soft smirk on his face. He wanted to hear it, even if she'd implied it. He was almost drooling at the thought of her being naked, and it really wasn't fair that she was just dangling it in front of him. What the hell was he supposed to do with the growing boner in his tight jeans? He couldn't just whip out his dick and jerk off right then and there, that didn't feel right. Instead, he snapped out of it and paid attention to the Domme. "Just the anticipation of it..." He started out, biting down on his bottom lip softly at the thought of it. "Well, let's just say that I'm glad that I jerked off in the shower, before coming here. If I hadn't, then there would've been a major cum stain on these jeans right now." It wasn't because he had problems in that department - no, Thea would've heard about that from her friends if he did. It was more a testiment to how fucking sexy she was. He hummed lightly and leaned into her touch. "I do enjoy calling you Miss, even if it didn't seem that way a couple of days ago," he said, referencing to his stubbornness about not wanting to give into any control. "Would it be okay if I called you 'Miss'?"

THEA: She looked at him for a moment before giving a very light slap to his face, "That is yet to be found out yet, my sweet bitch." Thea said teasingly as she looked down at him, seeing a bulge start to form in his pants at even the mention of her naked. "Yes...anticipation," she said eyes his groin before letting her slowly come between his legs and run up his crotch before bringing it back to her other foot. "Oh is that so, little bitch? Tell me what you thought about while you were jerking off in the shower," she let her eyes meet his as she watched him like he was a kitten rubbing up against her touch begging for more. Her thumb rubbed against his lower lip as she thought, "Hmm, I was thinking more creative, like 'my muse'." Her eyes glinting with joy and power all at once.

PATRICK: The slap took him by surprise. God, if he had known that she was like that, before coming to this island, he would've tried way harder to get into her pants. His smirk turned to a surprised smile, his mouth slightly open. Who knew she had it in her? It wasn't long before the smile on his lips turned into a genuinely surprised and perfectly shaped "O" and he gasped. The sensation that he felt on his crotch made him almost fall over, and he had to put a hand on the floor in order to keep his balance. Why were jeans so fucking stupid and always in the way? He wanted to be free of them. He could barely think straight, having difficulty getting an answer out. "I- hnng..." He was lost for words until she finally stopped teasing him, and he let a deep breath out, not knowing he'd held it in. Then he straightened back up and looked up at her again. "I was thinking about you," his voice came out in heavy breaths and he licked his lips. "And that little red dress that you used to wear, whenever we went out with the group. And how it'd slide up... That, mixed with your kisses and you straddling me." Patrick revealed, not caring that he was sharing all the details. He saw the expression on her face and how it'd lit up. He liked seeing that. "You're right, 'my muse' is 110% better. I apologize."

THEA: Seeing how he reacted, she could tell he was turned on and that only made her more excited. Thea watched his facial expression change almost instantly as her foot went between his legs and she could see just how easily she could tease him. Seeing how he couldn't even focus as she felt him up. She felt herself tingling between her own legs, but she would deal with that later. Right now it was about torturing Patrick. Thea gave a nod as he spoke. "Oh really? Were you a naughty bitch? Would you peek to see if I had anything on under my dress? I bet you enjoyed that, the feeling of me on top of you. Who knows, maybe the next time that happens it'll be because you're inside me," she teases him as her fingers go from his lips into his thick hair. "That's what I thought, bitch." Her hand moved to the back of his head, tugging at his hair to bring his head up more, "Do you enjoy how I'm talking to you?"

PATRICK: One moment, he had been quietly drawing, trying to get his mojo back after feeling frustrated and angry, and now, he was on his knees, so incredibly close to begging for some sort of release. Nodding, a slight blush crept up on his cheeks. He hadn't actually meant to look at her and check, but there had been times where it had been obvious to him; those were the nights where he would also feel a little jealous, knowing that she probably planned on going home with anyone, but him. "I liked it when you wore the black thong," he admitted, still wanting to show her a little bit of respect. He'd enjoyed it when she'd gone commando too, but he was still a gentleman, and he wanted to show that, despite it not being very gentleman-like to say. "I truly hope so. My hand is great, but if your kisses are anything to go by, then you're even better. Perfection, even," Patrick mused, already dreaming about the moment where he'd be inside of her. God, he hoped that'd be soon! He groaned quietly when she tugged on his curls and he moved up slightly. "I do," He groaned out again. "I do, my muse. I love it."

THEA: Thea could see just how excited he was for her. She raised a brow as he mentioned her thong and knew exactly what he was talking about. She actually purposely wore it knowing it would rile Patrick up, especially letting it ride up her body when it was in view of him. The brunette slid her hands away from him and towards her skirt, sliding the cloth up her body slowly to reveal a black thong, "You mean this one?" She grinned before letting the material fall back down again. Thea gave a small shrug before saying, "I've been told I've been the hottest sex someone has ever had on multiple occasions." Thea smiled at the small noise that came from his lips. Loving the new name he was calling her, and the fact that he enjoyed feeling having her be in control only made her think that this could work out. "Good bitch," she said as she let go of his hair and went back to normal Thea. "And that's just a little taste of a lesson of me being a Domme." She said with a sly grin.

PATRICK: Patrick watched as Thea's hands moved up her legs, her skirt following. He didn't blink or look away, or anything; his focus remained on the girl's legs. His breath hitched in the back of his throat when he finally got a peek of the black fabric, barely covering anything, and it had to take him everything he could to not just grab her, push her down on the table and have his way with her right then and there. But he didn't. He was going to be a good boy, and submit to her. "Yeah, that's the one," he told her, swallowing hard. And then it was all over again, thankfully. Another second of seeing that, and Patrick would've leapt up immediately. "I believe them," he managed to croak out, not sure how he hadn't started touching himself yet. He was quite impressed with himself. And then all of a sudden, she switched back to normal, and Patrick almost got a little bit sad. He'd enjoyed it. But he also knew that it couldn't continue, if she wanted him to just stay kissing her and do nothing else. "Fucking hell, Thee," Patrick sighed and let himself fall back onto the floor. His cock was twitching in his pants, he could feel it. A hand went to rest on his forehead as he closed his eyes for a second to take it all in. "That's so fucking hot," he told her, before looking up at her from his position on the floor. "But what am I gonna do about this mess?" Patrick asked her, pointing to the bulge in his jeans. He needed a release, it would just be pure torture if nothing happened.

THEA: She felt so evil but yet so good all at once as she teased her friend by showing off her underwear. He was malfunctioning and it was all just so delicious. He could barely talk or even think it seemed like. Although she was surprised at how well he was controlling himself. Even though she could tell he was eager from his facial expressions and his words, the way he stood still, it made it even more aware how obedient he could be. But she could tell if she went any further he might have a stroke. A laugh left her lips as he went to the ground. She saw how hard he still was and looked down at him with a nod, "It is right? You were really good. Very good self control." When he asked her what he was going to do about his boner, she grinned before she expertly slid off her black thong coated with her own anticipation and tossed it down at his face. "Suffer," she said teasingly as brought her foot down towards his crotch and rubs up against with a bit of pressure.

PATRICK: Patrick wanted to show Thea that this was worth it, that he was worth it. He knew that she may have had her doubts about him being a Submissive, but he figured that had been because he'd put up a fight earlier, with both her and Matthias. He didn't like being told what to do, he didn't enjoy being controlled - unless he asked for it. Unless he actually wanted that, then there was no way in hell that he wasn't going to rebel against it all, just a little bit. But he was proud of himself when she praised him. He could be very obedient when he wanted to be. Before he knew it, she was peeling off her underwear, and then it landed on his face. His hand moved up to it, but he didn't remove it. Instead, he took in the sweet, delicious scent that was Thea. "You smell amazi-" he groaned out, interrupting himself when he felt her foot on his crotch. "Fuuuck..." He hissed and closed his eyes, his breathing harder. "Please," Patrick moaned. "More."

THEA: Thea was watching him on the ground, watching as he inhaled her scent and it only turned her on more. His reaction to her foot only made her even more excited. But, she had promised her sister that it wouldn't be anything more. She had teased Patrick so much now, yet she enjoyed the thought of making him leave with a massive boner. Her foot pet up against him once before she took her foot away and said, "Alright, alright, I expect to see you soon as I know you'll most definitely be wanting more." She smiles down at him, giving him a wink.

PATRICK: His eyes rolled to the back of his at the sensation. Though there were two layers of fabric between her foot and his dick, the pressure that she was putting down on it was enough to make him moan out. He wanted to grab something, needing to hold onto something, so he couldn't help himself when his hand found her calf and his fingers wrapped around it. It wasn't to remove it or take control, he just needed to support himself on something. And then all of a sudden, it was over. Her foot was off of him again. He groaned, absolutely frustrated that he wasn't getting a release. A heavy puff escaped his lips as he sat back up straight and looked up at her. "You're definitely going to be the death of me, Thea Hudson."

THEA: He was practically writhing, and Thea felt his hand come up to her in pleasure and she just really couldn't help herself with teasing him. She could see his frustration and laughed a bit as she watched him collapse once more before sitting up. She gave him a little pout at his words, "Aw Pattie Melt, I'm sorry. Like I told you, I promised Skye." Thea held out a hand for him to take to stand back up again, not wanting him to leave just yet, but also knowing if he stayed any longer she absolutely would be fucking him.

PATRICK: Patrick accepted Thea's hand, and stood back up, finally getting to look right into those hazel eyes of hers. He was still trying to catch his breath after what had happened, but he was calming down slowly. His dick, however, was not. It was still eager to escape the prison that it was encaged in. He heard her words, and knew that he needed to just go home and masturbate, like he'd previously done. She was making his balls blue, that was for sure, but it also made him want even more. He just had to be patient. "I get it, don't worry," Patrick told her, a soft smile. He understood, but that didn't mean he wasn't suffering. "I'm gonna go home and...take care of things," Patrick teased, leaning in to kiss her lips. He bit down on her bottom lip, smirking. "I might send you a picture." And with that, he pulled away and turned to walk towards the door.

THEA: She smiled as she looked back at him, letting her fingers linger with his a moment before taking her hand away. Glad he wasn't being pushy with her, because that would have totally turned her off. She was surprised to how well this experiment had gone, and was looking forward to testing his limits even more as he learned his role. She let out a small laugh as he said he was going to go take care of things. When he bit on her lower lip, her hand moved to smack his face as she knew that would turn him on. "You better, bitch." Thea murmured as he started to leave, she cleared her throat, "I believe you're forgetting your present." She said scooping up the thong that was on the ground and dangling it in front of his face.

PATRICK: The slap made him groan at first, but then grin. She really wasn't helping the situation, and now he had to walk all the way back with a huge boner. Something about it turned Patrick on though; knowing that she had the control over him. He was already looking forward to the next time he would be seeing her; even if it didn't involve any foreplay or other sexual antics. Hearing her, he looked over and saw the thong. Another grin grew on his face, and he walked back, delicately taking it away from her. Leaning in, Patrick still wore the grin, and growled lightly before pecking her lips again. "Call me."

#f2f002 #[ thea : muse & adonis ]#f2f

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