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#《 first time I make this kinda thing but yeah it's not too shabby :') 》
aravas-writing · 3 months
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(Secret Star AU)
"Naughty School girl gets punished"
Emerald wasn't one for taking jobs like these, but she had to admit, it was kinda nice being "scouted" by a producer on the street. She never saw herself as pretty or even hot, but she had been assured she was perfect for the scrip she was currently reading through.
Playing naughty wasn't difficult, but taking the blonde Teacher's punishment, was both hard and hot as hell.
To say that Emerald was nervous as hell would be...correct. There was no joke here; this was reality.
After signing up for the pornstar gig, she had actually hoped for a lesbian piece with Cinder. The girl's adoration for her saviour was almost concerning. It was unfortunate that the greenette was not allowed to star with her crush.
What she got was a different scene and a rather...excited Cinder. Of course she would not openly show it, but the way the seductress fidgeted from time to time gave it away. The final piece of evidence for that was when the guy Emerald was supposed to star with came onto the set.
"Jamie, there you are," Cinder cooed at him, nearly jumping out of her chair to greet him properly. It was a jarring sight for a girl who saw her mistress as someone always in control.
He laughed. "Hi, Cin! How are you? And its still Jau-" Pleasantries were exchanged as the thief struggled to reconcile the image of her mistress with the young woman before her now. Sure, Blondie boy was not too shabby to look at, if a bit scraggly. Still, him?
"Upupupup." Cinder shushed him. "We are still on the set. It's Jamie for you and Cinnamon for me. Speaking of spices..." Cinder brushed off invisible dust here and there, pulling the fabric around. "This jacket is the exact opposite of 'spicy'. What was the costume department thinking?"
Jamie laughed about it. "I'm thinking you're too much of a perfectionist. They fit my role as 'hardass teacher who ends up snapping'."
Teacher? Emerald looked down at her own clothing, suddenly reminded that she was to fill the role of an unruly schoolgirl getting punished. She had to clean herself thoroughly for that role and wear clothes she would never ever wear outdoors. That skirt was too skimpy!
"There is such a thing as too much." She gave him one last critical look before nodding. "I suppose that will have to do. Oh, and Jamie?"
Cinder leaned towards his ear, standing on her toes to reach it and whispered something. What exactly, Emerald couldn't tell, but it got him blushing like a cherry boy.
Seriously, he was the star of this show?! Sure, the thief never saw anything of his, but she didn't need to to get a picture of him as a virgin.
Well, not one anymore. Lucky dick.
Chocolate skin, deep cleavage and a real badonkadonk were crammed into a schoolgirl uniform one size too small, emphasizing the curves and conjuring fantasies. With barely audible claps, those cheeks moved to the office of her teacher. A real sweetheart, but way too uptight for some tastes. His morals were actually the reason she was there in the first place.
Well, that and-
"Come in."
His strict visage just barely managed to not make Emerald laugh. Yeah, blondie- Mr Darc wasn't suited for doling out discipline.
"You wanted to see me?" She played coy, pretending not to know that she was here because of-
"That outfit of yours." Right to the meat, huh? "Its way too small!"
She tittered like a brainless bimbo. "Aww, scared you will see things you shouldn't?"
"Do you want to catch a cold?"
What.
Emerald blinked, just barely catching the director making a throwing motion. "Huh? A cold?"
Blondie stood up harshly, his eyes narrow. "Do you have any idea how easy it is to get sick because you barely dress?"
"I have aura."
"Not an excuse!" His palm slammed onto the table as his voice turned into one more authoritative. "It will stifle your growth, your health and your grades as well! Or do you think that a lack of oxygen can help your failing classes?"
The student stood up, fury marring her face. "What the fuck do my grades have to do with this?! Are you just looking for some excuse to not have me dressed up like that so you don't feel guilty jerking it to schoolgirls?" She raised a finger and tapped it against his chest. "Fucking virgin."
That seemed to make his blood boil, judging by Blondie's expression. "You little..." he snarled. Then he rounded the table and Emerald's view turned very suddenly towards the floor. When her brain caught up to what happened, the unruly student realized that she was currently lying on his lap.
"That does it!"
SLAP
Emerald gasped at the stinging sensation against her ass. She knew that it was part of her role, but actually doing it was different.
SLAP
Her butt jiggled after each hit, something she knew the perverts watching this would love to see.
"Every time with you!"
SLAP
She was not going to moan.
"Do you know how many problems you're causing?!"
SLAP
She was not getting wet...
"Do you have any idea what some of less scrupulous would do to you?!"
SLAP
She was not actually getting off to this, no way-
SLAP
"Tell me!" He demanded. "What do you think would happen?!"
SLAP
Fuck it.
"I'd get fucked like the bitch I am!" She confessed, her legs clenching as she held herself back from climax. She was moaning, was getting off to being spanked by her betters...it just felt too good!
"Exactly," he said, rubbing her sore butt. "Now you know why I was angry, right?"
She had no idea what to say next. The slutty schoolgirl looked for help, blanking on her lines. She was supposed to say something here...
That was when her crimson eyes met Cinder's golden ones. She showed her subordinate an approving smirk and made a gesture at her. It was clear as day.
Go on.
"N-no," she lied. "I need more discipline."
SLAP
"Guess you need an intense crash course, then," Mr Darc grumbled in faked dissatisfaction before pulling down her thong.
That was when the real fun began. Emerald was getting spanked hard, then fingered even harder until she came, shrieking in joy. But he wasn't done with his slutty student. He made her strip in front of him, opening her jacket and losing everything beyond that. The only thing allowed to stay below the belt were her stockings.
He pinched her nipples and led her to his chair by pulling them. Already, Emerald was was acting like a dog- no, a bitch. A real bitch, loyal to master and mistress. She got to suck on master's fingers, cleaning them of her slutty juices.
Every look Emerald could steal towards Cinder, she saw her approval. Every command she followed from Mr Darc was met with approval. She happily looked at two dildos he showed her - both of them confiscated. She lubed them up for him before feeling one of them getting shoved in her ass.
The bitch couldn't help herself and came, screaming her sorry over and over as more of her juices stained the floor. She had no idea her asshole was such a good spot!
Finally, one last time, she was allowed to present herself. It was a treat for master; she could see it from the way his cock bulged out from inside his pants and how she showed her teeth. Sweaty from the exertion and exhilaration, her pussy leaking like a broken faucet, the bitch crouched and spread her legs, making sure her arms were behind her head so he could see it all. She should be allowed to behold this slut, his slut...
"I'm a bitch," she slurred. "I'm your bitch."
Her gaze wandered up to his blue eyes - weren't master's eyes yellow? And she saw approval.
His hand gently rested around her neck, squeezing it slightly. "Do you want to be a good girl?" He asked, earning a puzzled look from her. She didn't understand; was she not his slut, her plaything? Why would she be Cinder's good girl if she could be Mr Darc's slut?
"Good girls get rewards," he murmured, letting his hand travel from her neck to her breast and squeezing it.
The stupid bitch understood and shivered in delight. Her head was empty, there was only pleasure.
"Make me a good girl," she purred.
"Holy hell!" Jaune exclaimed. He was breathing a bit heavier after the shoot had ended, peering over to the near comatose Emerald. She had been wrapped in a bathrobe and the set people were fanning her flushed face. "I am not used to that."
He heard Cinder tittering. "For someone not used to being a dom, you conducted yourself very well." Her hand traced his shoulder as she came up behind Jaune, looking at a well fucked Emerald. "You really killed it."
Emerald would agree, were she still conscious. When she came to, she admitted it only to herself as she was allowed a copy of the newest short film of Jamie Darc.
It was the first time she ever watched porn, and the first time she masturbated so furiously.
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heyholmesletsgo · 6 months
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20 questions writer meme.
Thank you @thesilversun for tagging me :)
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
31 (5 are fanvids, the rest fics)
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
178,310, not too shabby for four years
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Still only The Untamed/MDZS so far
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Resurrection 96 kudos, a post-canon songxiao fic 
Cold Frost and Hot Chocolate 93 kudos, which was originally a one shot for the MDZS bingo event but people liked it so much I turned it into a series about fierce corpse Song Lan meeting a reincarnated Xiao Xingchen
Red 84 kudos, for a songxiao Chinese New Year event. I love events you guys!! The themes can be interpreted so many ways.
The Groom of Gusu 79 kudos, my first fic ever on ao3! A Princess Bride AU for wangxian :D
A Gentle Breeze in a Cold Hard World also 79 kudos, the third in the series sprouted by Cold Frost and Hot Chocolate.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Heck yeah, fandom should be about community! You are crazy about the ship/trope, so am I, let's gush about it :D
6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I'm a happy ending writer, even if that means death is the happy end, so I'd have to go with Release where the last line says that Xiao Xingchen's soul was waiting for fierce corpse Song Lan to die so they could go reincarnate together.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
All of them?! I am a sap foremost :)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
No, but my primary ship is kinda small, less attention that way.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I was going to say yes, but literally none of my fics are rated E, so I guess all my M-rated fics were hinting at things. I would like to tho!!
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
Nope.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, but I think I'd be open to it.
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
I loved Johnlock for many years but I never created anything for it, so I gotta say songxiao for the sheer (ongoing) output.
15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I'd love to make a continuation of the Batman AU, but it would be two multi-chapters, heavy on angst, and action too, so it would be a big undertaking. It has definitely fallen on the backburner.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Funny dialogue and situations, maybe?? The occasional heartbreaking line, according to comments, nyehehe :)
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Descriptions of locations/atmosphere, like everyone is in an empty room. Also action scenes, which probably ties into smut tbh, the physical descriptions would all sound like the hokey pokey!!!
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I haven't but I would indicate in the narration, much like I do for sign language, which I suppose counts??
19. First fandom you wrote for?
The Untamed. Thanks for keeping me sane during the pandemic :D
20. Favorite fic you've written?
Probably Duck the Goose which is a Soulmate Goose of Enforcement AU which is as ridiculously amazing as it sounds :D
Tagging @alectoperdita @galauvant @snarkivistfic @apocrypha73 @wifiwuxians @zaidnovi and whoever else wants to answer
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fillxsargeloverfan · 2 years
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A Mystery Adventure Chapter 13
Once we returned from Hazy Pass…Gurdurr and the Timburr began building at once.And the two of us…And even Quagsire…We all did our best to help with the construction of the new home.And several days later…”It’s done!We have a house!!!” said Tepig.”Hmmm.It’s quite an interesting house,hmm?” said Quagsire.”Urgh!Sorry it’s so bad.I’m afraid this is the best I can do right now.” said Gurdurr.
“But…it does have a certain warmth to it.I think it’s a good house.” I thought.”Well,even if even if it doesn’t look very pretty…I had a really good time doing this job!” said the second Timburr.”You said it.This has gotta be the most fun I’ve ever had on a job.It’s like…Yeah,it’s kinda shabby…But it’s not REALLY shabby…It’s kinda strange,but…I’m pretty happy with the work we did.In an odd sorta way.Though it really is…not much to look at,huh?” said the first Timburr.
“It doesn’t matter what it looks like. I love it!Gurdurr!Timburr!Timburr!And Quagsire,too! Thanks,everybody!Everyone put their hearts into it…That’s all that really matters.At any rate…This is going to be…our new…HOOOOOOMMME!!!” said Tepig.
The next morning,”Morning,Ford!How’d you sleep last night?I was out like a light!” said Tepig.”I slept well Tepig.” I said.
“It wasn’t cold or windy or anything…It’s great to have a house!No,it’s awesome!And now that we’ve got our house,I really wanna start expanding Paradise.We should keep adding facilities and shops and stuff.”
“Facilities?” I said confused.For some reason my brain was not working.I mean I know what facilities are but I think I forgot.
“Yeah,Like fields that can grow Berries…Or dojos where we can work on our moves…I want to make all kinds of facilities that’ll come in handy for our adventures!And of course this area does have very high mysteriosity!Y’know?Like,it’s really mysterious.If we start digging around,we might find that there are dungeons or things!Hey,it could happen!At any rate,we should prepare lots of land for development!Oh,and…I suppose we’ll need some more Pokémon we can trust.If we just get two more Pokémon to join us,then we could register as a team,too…Adventures would be a breeze then!We don’t want just anyone on our team,of course…It’d be great to be a real team.”
I knew what Tepig was talking about.The Pokémon we need is the people gravity falls if they are Pokémon and other trustworthy Pokémon.”But I know we aren’t gonna get all that done at once!We’ve just got to start small and keep moving forward!Ford!Let’s give it our all again today!And I promise you we will find the people of Gravity Falls.” said Tepig.
Once we stepped out of the house,we saw Quagsire.”Hey,Quagsire!Morning!What are you up to so early?” said Tepig.”Mmm,morning.I’ve just been,hmm,waiting for you two to wake up.” said Quagsire.”Wait you mean on the outside or the inside of the house?” I said.
“What?You were waiting for us?”
“Yes come with me,hmm?” said Quagsire.So Tepig and I followed Quagsire.”Mm-hmm.This is it.” said Quagsire.”Isn’t this…a bulletin board?” said Tepig.
“Mm-hmm.Consider it a little gift from me.I’m calling it the,hmm,Request Board.You’ll find information about adventuring…and requests from Pokémon.They may need you to find something for them or take care of some bad egg…You may even find little requests for help from the Pokémon around town,hmm?All kinds of different notices will crop up on here,hmm?”
“Yeah?Cool!So if we complete these requests, we can earn money or items in return,right?”
“Mm-hmm.Oh,and,hmm…I moved one of the Deposit Boxes from Post Town here,too.You should use it to,hmm,keep a handle on all your items and money.And,mmm,I’ve started a shop as well.I haven’t got many goods yet,but…If you come talk to me,I’ll show you what I can offer,hmm?If you see something you like,be sure to buy it,hmm?”
“Thanks for all of this,Quagsire!You’re such a huge help!Why are you so nice to us,huh?You even helped us build our house!”
“Hmmm.Well…mmm…I don’t really know.Maybe…Maybe because you and Ford are trying hard for something.Whenever I see someone trying their best, I just feel like,hmm,helping them out.I know I’m normally,mmm,pretty relaxed.But watching you and Ford somehow gets me all worked up.Hoho…So,hmm…Let me explain,mmm,how the Request Board works. You see there are all sorts of notes left on the board,hmm?Each is a request.Select a request that you’d like to fulfill for someone and,mmm,tear it right off.Next you’ll take that note over to the Request Counter,hmm?Then if you hand the note to Azumarill…”
“Hi there!Just talk to me whenever you’re ready to go!” said Azumarill.”Then you’ll be able to go to the dungeon you need to complete your request,hmm?That’s,mmm,about it for my explanation.Pretty simple,hmm?Go on and,mmm,pick your very first ever request.Make it a good one,hmm?” said Quagsire.”Ford?Mind if I choose this time?” said Tepig.”Yeah sure.” I said.So Tepig got to the Request Board.
“Hmm,which one should I pick…”
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evilblot · 3 years
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The Butterfly Nest 🦋
Origami bday card; red cardboard paper, black India ink and white marker pen.
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daydream-believin · 3 years
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Douxie moving in with the reader? Even temporary?
full heart, full home
warnings: swearing, makeout, ask to tag?
word count: 2954
a/n: i needed this lmao my real roommates are giving me hell. first paragraph brought to you by the elevator gang
taglist: @moppetwithamanbun @alovesongshewrote @blixeon @prismarts @transformers-insanity @fantasyiswaybetterthanreality @ukuleles-and-roses @rookiedookspam
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you tried your best not to show how winded you were at the top of the stairs. in your defense, it was like, a bunch of flights of stairs. you could count them, but i, the narrator, do not exactly know what constitutes as a flight of stairs, nor do i care enough to google it or wtv. is it one stretch of stairs? or both stretches that span a level that count? i don’t know and neither do you. anyhoo, you lived on the third and top floor of this stupid building. the landlord doesn’t believe in elevators. kinda ablest but that’s off track. you made your way over to the front of your door and were finally able to place the heavy box in your arms down. wooo. you’re out of shape. maybe you should focus more on combat training instead of studying spells.
douxie came up beside you, also pretending not to be winded from the stairs. he placed the box in his arms on top of the one you’d brought up. archie came flying in, taking his perch on top of the box tower and looking down at you two wizards who really should climb stairs more often. geez, do some cardio. never mind that archie was technically cheating here with his wings. you met archie’s smug face with a grimace of your own. maybe you and douxie could start running together in the mornings now that you’re living together.
right, you should really open the door instead of having a staring contest with a judgey dragon. the door was pretty shabby looking. three locks, scuffed up, paint coming off, kinda sticky, you have to kick this thing to get it open. it’s... extra secure. yeah.
so! now that you’d finally gotten that door open, it was time to start your tour. archie being the impatient dragon he was, had already flown in and was sniffing around, doing that thing cats do where they make scent map thingys, scratching a bit at the carpet, generally just making himself at home before you and douxie could even make your way through the door. honestly he’s so cute you couldn’t be mad.
you and doux shuffled in with the boxes, placing them back into tower formation in on the shabby living room with its familiar array of stains, some you made yourself (you’re not gettin that deposit back) and some you’ll never know the origin of. douxie looked around, probably noticing the stains, and all the other damage. you tried not to cringe. you may not be able to afford the fanciest joint,,, actually that’s it, end of sentence. you’ve been here for like 2 years it’s not home or anything. it’s not like doux hadn’t been at your place before, you just thought maybe he’d be looking with a more critical eye this time around. he wasn’t. if he was, that would be a bit hypocritical, too, considering he was living in the storage of the bookstore like a rat before this. didn’t stop you from being anxious.
you slipped off your shoes and put them in the basket by the doorway, before turning to address your new housemates.
“OKAY. so. mi casa su casa, of course, since, you know, you’re living here now...” you managed to get out.
“ah, i got one rule, you remember,” you pointed to douxie’s feet, “shoes,”
douxie nodded and complied to your request. you looked over at archie, who was up on his hind legs, snooping through one of the kitchen cabinets.
“oh, and no leaving dead things on the counter if you don’t plan on disinfecting that counter,” douxie raised his brows at your words, “it’s happened before. so i guess i got two rules. no shoes, no bacteria from dead things. other than that, we’re all good.”
“cross my heart,” douxie gestured along with the phrase.
archie returned to the top of the boxes, like, well, a dragon guarding a castle tower, surveying his domain. his tail flicked, making a swoosh swoosh sound against the cardboard. neither of the boxes had labels. they didn’t need to. despite being a really old and eccentric wizard, doux hadn’t really collected many personal items. must be all the traveling he did for merlin’s errands over the years. most important magical objects were stored in the bookstore. everything else douxie owned fit into these two boxes alone.
douxie himself probably would have just stayed in that tiny bookstore like the rest of the magic artifacts gathering dust if you hadn’t stepped in. in truth, you weren’t planning on ever having a boyfriend move in so early in the relationship, but damn you needed to get him out of there. the first time you saw the storage room he called a studio, you made up your mind. douxie was living that bachelor life in what was essentially a coat closet, sleeping on his couch (on the rare occasion he slept), eating nothing but takeout (when he remembered to eat), showering in the building maintenance shower (thankfully this one was a regular everyday thing don’t worry the wizard prides himself on being very clean and free of diseases), etc. may have been none of your business, but you had to put a stop to that.
functioning wizards sleep 8 hours a night and eat food that isn’t packed with sodium. it’s probably gonna take a lot of work to get those eye bags to disappear but hey douxie’s health is worth it. not that you didn’t love scraggly sleepless scarecrow man, but you were gonna fix him dammit. at the very least make him take a nap every now and then.
“fancy a cuppa?” you called as you made your way to the kitchen to put the kettle on.
“that would be perfect, thank you, love.”
let’s be honest you needed tea, if only to calm your nerves. you handed douxie his teacup and you two sat in a comfortable silence on the couch. you enjoyed being able to be quiet with douxie, just enjoy his presence. it was safe and nice. you, felt like you were forgetting something.
you heard a skitter and the jingle of a bell. ah fuck, your cat. mystery solved. pumpkin was a senior, who’s bright orange coat had dulled into a more creamsicle color over the years and become raggedy. his smushed in face made it look like he was constantly scrutinizing the world. he was the reason you had a no leaving dead things on the counter rule. and he didn’t like strangers. the crotchety ball of fluff came around the corner, wide eyes searching. probably smells archie. pumpkin came over to rub on your legs, and also hide in them. poor thing. you gently lifted the frightened senior cat. in his twenties with fragile bones, you were extra careful when you scooped him up to make sure he felt safe. but even then, you were in danger of getting your arms clawed with what was about to come next.
you held the cat towards douxie. you were hoping pumpkin would be fine, since douxie had been over before and left his scent around the place. pumpkin sniffed, but ultimately decided douxie wasn’t worth his time. good.
“see, you know douxie.” your voice soothed.
he’ll warm up to your boyfriend soon enough, and then he’ll be just as clingy to doux as he is to you. douxie held out a palm, and pumpkin rubbed his face into it. yeah, he’ll love douxie. now comes the hard part.
“hey archie, he’s really old, you gotta be extra nice, okay?”
the dragon-cat looked offended you would even imply otherwise. “i can promise you i’ll be on my best behavior.”
pumpkin puffed up into a big bucket of fuzz whenever you lifted him up to eye level with archie. there were those claws, digging into your arms. okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best way to go about cat socializing. you had hoped since archie was reasonable that this wouldn’t be that big of a problem. but you were too busy thinking about it in terms of archie’s comfort that you forgot to factor in that pumpkin was old and grumpy and wasn’t going to take kindly to someone on his turf.
archie started purring, displaying friendly cat body language. pumpkin didn’t drop his suspicions all together, but he at least stopped puffing. good. archie hopped off the boxes onto the ground and chirruped. you held your breath as you placed pumpkin in front of him. by deya’s grace, he didn’t swat archie, and just sniffed. okay.
leaving the little babies to sniff it out (you trust archie), you led douxie into the bedroom so he could start unpacking his boxes. it was weird seeing your bed made. you never make the bed. unless, well, you were expecting a certain someone to spend the night. which means now you’re either going to have to make the bed every day, or you’re gonna have to drop the illusion of you being that put together of a human being. it’s gonna be the latter.
douxie disregarded your carefully assembled representation of responsibility, launching himself onto the bed face down. he rolled over to look at you in a ‘draw me like your french girls’ pose. once you got done laughing at his antics, you had to pretend to be mad.
“doux,”
“what?” he feigned innocence, “just making myself at home.” boy, how you loved his cheshire cat smile. douxie patted the bed beside him.
“no, we’re supposed to be settling you in,” you refused. you couldn’t expect him to take you seriously when you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. there were many downsides to finding a man who made you laugh.
“hmm,” he pretended to think, finger pressed to his chin, “nah. i believe it’s nap time.”
“douxie, it’s five,”
he proceeded to get under the covers, ignoring you.
“didn’t you say you wanted me to get more sleep,”
“are you sure you don’t just want to cuddle?”
“been a while since i’ve slept in a real bed, we need to break it in.”
“it’s already been broken in,” you rolled your eyes.
nevertheless, you joined him in bed. it was cozy and warm and damn now you’re ready for a nap too. working morning shifts will do that to you. douxie wrapped you up in his arms, nose brushing the top of your hair.
“see, this is what we need,” he murmured.
he tangled your legs together. he was really really warm and comfy. you breathed in his comforting scent, smokey, spicy, like the colder months. sighing against his chest, you could stay like this forever. douxie pulled his hand through your hair. if you were a cat you could purr. being able to feel his breathing, his heartbeat, a steady rhythm, lulled you. it was so relaxing, knowing he was there. you smiled into his chest,
“i can’t wait to fall asleep like this every night.”
“and you will,” he paused, “just not now. we won’t sleep through the night if we nap now.”
you snorted, “but i thought you wanted a na—“
douxie crashed his lips into yours, bumping your noses. he was a little too caught up to account for that. no matter, you melted.
as douxie’s lips danced over yours, he took those hands that were in your hair and pulled at the locks. you moaned into his mouth. just what that sneaky son of a court wizard wanted. he saw his opening and slipped his tongue in. mmmm. he tasted like safety, tenderness, and the sugar he dumped into his tea. as expected of a man named douxie, very very sweet. you tried your best to match his pace, but his tongue gliding across yours was melting your brain.
just a little dumbstruck, lovestruck. you couldn’t be held responsible for the noises coming from your throat. douxie took his hands out of your hair, wrapping around your waist, and pulled you in as close as he could. still not close enough, but that may have been physically impossible to attain.
your heart fluttered in your chest. it was like he knew exactly how to make you stupid with affection for him. was this the honeymoon phase? you cupped your hands around douxie’s handsome face. you were shining with adoration. you gently bit down on his lower lip, tugging on the tender flesh. the moan the action elicited from douxie’s mouth was so delicious, you opened your starry eyes just a half-lid. a red flush painted his gorgeous features.
you were positively delirious at this point, drunk on douxie’s touch. you moved to kiss just under his jaw. he mewled as he pushed his face forward, making it easier for you brush your teeth over the sensitive skin of his neck and shoulders. douxie shivered. yeah, this was what you needed.
you were absolutely going to make sure he was he was properly taken care of now. you were going to make sure he received a generous amount of sleep, healthy food, and all the love he could possibly need.
taking you by surprise, douxie broke away, taking the opportunity to gently flip you onto your back. you waited in dazed anticipation as he hovered over you. he ran his hand down your chest, and kissed your cheek, then the other one, then your nose, and finally pressed back into your own impatient lips. his kisses lingered, even though he hadn’t. he looked down at you, hazel eyes glimmering with lovesickness. you tenderly tucked his fringe behind his ears as he stared you down, as if he could see into your own soul.
“i’ve got to say, i am adoring the view from your apartment. quite a place you’ve got here.” douxie chucked, his deep irish voice hoarse.
“hmm, well, it’s our place now,” you blushed softly, catching on to his compliment.
“it is, isn’t it.” let’s say it again, boy, how you loved his cheshire cat smile.
you stayed there, basking in each other, as the sun faded and the light coming from the bedroom window painted you two golden. your cheeky boyfriend plopped down onto your chest without warning, knocking the wind out of you, but you couldn’t do anything to hide your delight. his head resting over your heart felt so comfortable and soft. combing your fingers through his hair, you rested in that comfortable silence, and watched the dusk fade from the window.
once the darkness fell however, you felt it time to move. you wriggled free, gently pushing douxie off of you, to his disappointment. he looked back up at you with pleading eyes.
“c’mon, dewdrop. we can’t lay in bed all night. we gotta get you unpacked, and you will actually eat dinner tonight i swear to nimue.”
•••
back in the living room, you were greeted by the sight of your cats cuddling up on the couch. turns out pumpkin didn’t take long to warm up to archie after all. that was all you could’ve hoped for. pumpkin didn’t have much longer, maybe having a friend his own species (err, close enough) would be good for him in these last few years. it was nice to see him happy, laying next to archie, purring happy purrs.
as you worked on preparing a meal for you two, douxie clung to you. would have been annoying if you weren’t absolutely craving this, mordrax’s miracles.
after dinner, douxie gathered up the dishes to wash. nothing sexier than a man who does the dishes. you sat cross legged on the couch, pretending to study the spellbook in your hands, peaking a glance at him in the kitchen every now and then. the sink was on the side of the circular counter that was facing out towards the living area. open concept. great for if you’re watching children play, bad for if you’re trying to watch your boyfriend work without being caught staring. which you were. you were caught staring. douxie chuckled to himself fondly as he saw you quickly turn your head away in a flush. he made his way over to the coffee table to collect the tea cups from earlier. at least, that was his pretense.
you tried really hard to ignore him. well he couldn’t have that. he punched his hands into the back of the couch behind you, boxing you in, cool guy kabedon style. you looked up, startled. douxie once again hit you with that dazzling cheeky grin.
“hi~”
it was hard not to feel safe in his presence; so, confidence returning to you, you returned his gesture, placing your hands on his chest.
“hi,” you echoed.
“hmmm, what do you say we break in this couch too.” douxie wiggled his eyebrows.
“hmmm i’d say not in front of my child, please,” you waved your hand to direct his eyes to the sleeping cats beside you.
“bother.”
i have nothing but fondness for him, you thought to yourself as he disentangled himself for your on the couch, dejectedly collecting the tea cups and returning to the sink with a sigh. i love him, a pleasant thought.
you reached over to the cats beside you, giving each an ear scratch. pumpkin looked so comfortable with archie now. douxie was poking his tongue out in concentration at the sink. you were so lucky.
this may have been early in the relationship, but it definitely wasn’t a mistake by a long shot. you were so glad you made the decision to have hisirdoux casperan join your little home and blend your little families. your heart was full, quite like the apartment is now.
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specialagentsoftie · 2 years
Note
kinda a drabble request but can you post a fluffy part of green eyed girl part 5? please please
for context, Dani had woken up and you just finished getting her comfy/back to bed. a little longer this time because there wasn't a really good place to stop the sneak peak but enjoy!
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"All done?" Jay asks. He hears you hum an 'mmhm' from across the room before you make your way back to the living room and lean over to give him a peck on the lips.
He smiles when you pull away, only to hop over the back of the couch and snuggle down next to him.
"So I'm staying the night, huh?" you tease, nudging Jay’s side with your arm.
"You don't really have to, Dani's just really attached to you." It was obvious that he was being extra cautious with you, going slow like you asked. You knew he was hoping his daughter hadn't crossed the line with you, but this felt right — more right than anything else has ever felt in your life.
"No, no, I want to stay, unless you don't want me to. I love being around Dani, she's wonderful. Her dad's not too shabby either."
"Oh yeah?" he asks, smirking as he leans in closer to you.
"Uh-huh…” There’s a cheeky grin on your face and the next thing you know, his lips are capturing yours. It was deeper and more passionate than the earlier ones, but just as amazing.
Jay would never get used to the way your playful banter matched his perfectly. There wasn't a single day that went by without laughs from the two of you and it was more than he could have asked for.
As Jay kissed you, your arms come up to wrap around his neck and he pulls you to straddle his lap, his hands resting on your hips.
When you break apart, he's looking at you with so much adoration and love that you almost want to turn away. Burning heat rose up into your face and ears, but his gaze never strayed away from you.
If anything, it made him want to watch you forever. Jay wanted to remember everything about you — the way your eyes lit up whenever you’d talk about your passions and the people you loved, the way you’d nosily pester Trudy to see if Intelligence had a dangerous day at work, and yes... even the way you’d sometimes turn red whenever he stared at you too long.
"I want you to stay.” His voice was low, rumbling in his chest, his hand resting on your neck as his thumb gently stroked your jaw. It all sent chills up your spine in the best way.
“Okay," you whisper and Jay doesn’t miss that little smile, the one you reserved just for him, that makes its way to your lips.
The first time he saw that smile, he knew.
He just knew.
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spaceskam · 3 years
Text
woke me up from the longest dream
Summary: Alex and Michael follow up on a lead and find something powerful.
Tags: canon compliant (for the most part), visions, road trips, my deep sky still sucks agenda
ao3
"Why is it so fucking cold?" 
"Welcome to Montana," Alex said dryly.
Michael made a face and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was doing his best to be mature about Alex inviting him on this trip. It was another loose lead he found and he was irritated that he didn't find it until after he came back home. Michael had offered to help after a grueling time in self-induced misery and Alex had agreed and he had planned to use this time to show Alex how much he'd grown.
However, there was something about being alone with Alex that made him feel a little like he hadn’t. 
"Are you not cold?"
"Didn't we deduce that your species is from a really cold planet due to your body temperature and the clothing Tripp described they were wearing?" Alex asked back.
Michael was used to a vaguely snarky Alex, it was in his genetic makeup. This was a different level though. Alex was in one of the worst moods Michael had ever seen him in that didn't result in a fight, instead it was all icy silence and irritated answers. Michael wasn't sure if it was because of his breakup with Forrest or if it was something else entirely. Maybe it was the fact that Michael was here at all.
He decided to keep quiet.
"You got me," Michael said, taking slightly bigger strides to keep up with Alex.
They were in a small town that served as a hub for a few even smaller towns that surrounded it. It had one small stretch of road with all the local businesses in it, a shabby hotel, a diner, and a farmer's market being the three biggest options. There were a couple others buildings, but Michael couldn't say what they were by just looking at them from the outside.
Alex seemed to know where he was headed though and he waltzed up to a building that was only identifiable by a sign that was meant to say CORRIE'S but was missing a few letters and said CORE instead. He pushed the door open and Michael followed. The inside had the heater blasting in a way that immediately smothered him, but he managed to keep his face even. It looked like a convenience store with only three rows of shelves in the middle. A sign at the back door read GAS PUMP IN BACK. Michael thought that was bad advertising.
"Hello," an older woman at the counter greeted. She seemed to be the only one here.
"Hey," Alex said, approaching her and turning on an easy smile. Logically Michael just knew he was being charming to get what he came here for. Illogically, it felt like Alex could be nice to everyone but him.
How many times could he tell himself to grow up? 
"What can I help you two with?" she asked. 
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this place is owned by someone who used to live in Fort Belknap?" Alex said, not even beating around the bush to charm her more. That was the only thing to convince him it wasn't just him. 
The woman stared at him, face unchanging. 
"Who's asking?" 
"Holt," Alex said, smiling and tilting his head a little bit, "Carla Holt, to be more specific."
She breathed in and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them a few moments later. 
"Their timing has always been impeccable," she said, gesturing towards a door behind her, "Come."
"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael whispered to him as they followed. Alex grabbed his arm and squeezed, nearly causing Michael to fully trip over air. 
"Just follow my lead. Stay quiet," Alex explained quietly, "I'll tell you later."
And Michael did as he said. 
"You must be the littlest Manes boy," the woman said as she led them into a little office. It was cluttered and didn't really seem like the top secret place Michael was imagining. 
"Yes, ma'am." 
"Corrie," she corrected, "I never did like the sound of ma'am."
"Alright," Alex said, laughing lightly even though didn't reach his eyes, "My mother told me the same thing." 
"I bet so," Corrie said, digging through messy drawers of a desk. She sat down heavily into the beat up chair and started digging through a file cabinet. "I kept telling myself it'll eventually come and bite me in the ass, carrying secrets for someone I only hear from once every few years, but you never know what you're getting yourself into until after you're stuck."
"Yeah, I know how that feels," Alex sighed. Michael's eyes drifted to him. He avoided eye contact completely.
"I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting you. Your brother, maybe. Part of me expected your father to bust down my door more than anyone," she went on. Corrie pulled out a small box and opened it, looking in and making a face before closing it and tossing it over her shoulder. 
"Guess I'm the sucker who agreed to clean up duty."
Corrie laughed.
Truly, Michael expected more danger and more difficulty. He expected a fight or at least tension. Instead, Alex and Corrie made small talk about their shitty affiliations while Corrie dug through decades worth of clutter. Eventually, she pulled out a box and opened it and took a deep breath. She closed it again before giving it to Alex and Alex didn't reopen it so Michael had no idea what was in it. All he knew was that it went into Alex's bag.
"Thank you "
"Keep it safe," Corrie said, "Keep yourself safe." Then for the first time her eyes drifted to Michael. "You too. There aren't many of you left."
It was hot in the building, but somehow Michael felt like he'd jumped in ice water.
"Thank you."
"Mhm. Now get the hell out of my store before somebody follows you."
"Of course. Thank you again," Alex said politely and then he did as she said, turning on his heel and walking away. Michael wanted to stay and ask more–if she knew what he was, maybe she knew things he didn't and they could get rid of Mr. Jones–but Michael simply followed Alex's lead.
"Alex," Michael said, nearly having to jog to keep up. Alex opened the door of the store and a blast of cold hit Michael in the face, colder than before due to the extreme warmth inside. It took him a moment to reboot his mind enough to finish what he was saying. "Alex, what's in the box?"
Alex managed to close his eyes and shake his head in disapproval without slowing his pace. 
"Can you wait until we get to the hotel?" Alex asked, cold again. Michael nodded despite the fact Alex couldn't see him, deciding that a verbal answer probably would be annoying in itself. 
The problem with silence was that it was a sure way to get Michael to spiral. He had discovered very recently that being alone when he wanted to be alone the most was the worst idea. Now, he didn't want to be alone as much as he wanted answers. Walking in silence down a street while wondering what was in Alex's bag, who Carla Holt was, why Alex was angry, etc, etc, etc, was only making his mind race.
By the time they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, Michael was sure that Alex had just borrowed a bomb from an old lady and he was going to explode himself and whoever Carla Holt was was going to hunt Michael down in revenge. He of course didn't say that. Instead, he tapped his foot as Alex requested a room with two queens and didn't realized that the worker snorted because he was assuming they were two queens until after they were already heading to the room. 
"Should I go spit in his drink?" Michael asked when he realized. 
"No," Alex said, "You'd probably make it taste too sweet."
Michael again found himself stumbling over nothing and he looked at Alex, wondering what the hell was he talking about. But it was the nicest thing he'd said to him the whole trip and Michael decided to take it very personally. 
"You sayin' I'm sweet?" Michael asked, grinning. A smile pulled at Alex's mouth that he very quickly schooled, slowing as he came to their room. 
"I'm saying your saliva, and probably your other bodily fluids, have a higher concentration of a glucose-like chemical," Alex said, "As proved by Kyle and Liz when we got drunk."
"You guys drunkenly tested our saliva's glucose levels?" Michael asked, laughing a little. Alex finally speaking to him made his brain stop wandering as much. Not completely–he was still wondering about that box–but enough.
"We were talking," Alex said, unlocking the door with the keycard, "And noticed we all thought you three tasted sweeter than other people we'd kissed and, well, you know. So we did some tests."
"That's... Interesting," Michael said, letting the door close behind them.
Alex walked over to the bed closest to the door and carefully sat his bag down. Michael watched him, staying near the door. He was still unsure about where they stood. He knew Alex cared about him and he knew Alex didn't hate him, but he was also still holding him at arm's length. And then there was that box. He didn't want to push.
But Michael wasn't known for his patience. 
"Alex," Michael said, "What's in that box?"
Alex swallowed and looked up at him for a moment before patting the bed beside him. An invitation. One that made Michael's stomach drop and twist in 11 knots. But he walked closer, sitting beside Alex. Alex stared at him, his features slowly loosening up to betray his feelings. His eyebrows pulled together in that kind of worry that meant he felt like he was drowning, scrambling to pull himself to the surface and never able to get a good grip. Which would explain the coldness, he supposed.
"You know you can trust me, right? I'm... I'm working on not being so self-destructive, and, like, knowing I'm helping you out kinda helps when I feel shitty," Michael said. Alex huffed a small laugh and shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment. When he looked Michael in the eye again, he was back to being serious. 
"I did something stupid," Alex said, softly like it was a secret, "I agreed to something without knowing what I was getting myself into. And I'm kind of stuck right now."
"Stuck? What do you mean stuck?" Michael said, following his lead and whispering.
"I'm figuring it out, alright? Don't worry. I'll tell you later," Alex said, reaching out to squeeze his arm before dropping it back to the bed, "And I checked before we even left that I wasn't bugged and I've kept my eye out to know that we aren't being followed. And my computer definitely isn't. We're good. They're tracking me, but only to the extent I'm letting them. It's okay." 
"That doesn't sound okay," Michael said.
"Trust me like I trust you, alright?" He said. Michael reluctantly nodded. "I need you to hold something for me."
Michael blinked. "The box."
"Yeah."
"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael asked. Alex smiled softly
"It's not a who, it's a what. It's a code from my mom's side of things. She knows more about the alien shit than she let on," Alex sighed, "I didn't stand a fucking chance not being involved with this shit. My dad, my mom, you. So, you know, if you ever feel bad about that, it's my fucking destiny." 
Michael swallowed and nodded, feeling more eager by the second to know what was in that box. Needed to keep hearing Alex say how fated they were to know each other. Needed Alex to touch his arm again and smile.
"Okay," Michael said, trying to stay in his own space, "So we're fated. Cosmic connection. Called it."
Alex broke into a wide smile, genuine and welcoming as he shoved Michael's shoulder gently. "Shut up."
"Show me," Michael said instead. Alex's smile faded just a little.
"Do me a favor and double check our surroundings," Alex said. Michael nodded and tilted his head, sending a chair to lodge itself under the doorknob and pressed the curtains tightly to the wall. His eyes slid closed as he did a mental sweep of the building, not noticing anything out of order. When he opened his eyes again, Alex seemed to be closer. "Thanks." 
"Show me." 
Alex sighed and nodded, hesitantly reaching into his bag and pulling out the box. It was clear now that it was made of really nice wood, intricate carvings covering it. Alex handled it with an extreme care that Corrie didn't have with it. His eyes flickered between the box and Michael a few dozen times before he hesitantly opened it and Michael leaned closer to see.
"It's just a ring," Michael said, almost disappointed. It looked like a normal, silver band that was old and unpolished after years of being tucked away. 
"Not just a ring," Alex said, he kept his fingers very precise as he picked it up. Michael didn't miss the way it seemed to ripple at his touch.
"Something alien," Michael acknowledged.
"Something alien," Alex confirmed, "Most of the glass and even the rocks that you've had so far all seem to be crafted and at least heavily altered by your people to be as useful as they are. This... This was passed down as a pure substance that was mined and cut into a wedding band to mimic human customs." Alex looked at him. "It pre-dates your mother landing here, Michael."
Michael let out a shaky breath, eager and hungry for knowledge for the first time in a long time. He'd poured over Tripp's journal over and over, poured over Caulfield and Project Shepard records, all of it painful and sickening with an unhappy ending. And now there was something new– old –that might actually give him something more. Proof that aliens were here before his mother, proof that there was a reason they came to Earth of all places. More secrets he craved to uncover. He missed the feeling. 
"It's powerful and, as far as I can tell, the last of it left. The rest was probably destroyed with your planet. But it's old and... and sentimental. One of the older women on the reservation told me the sentimentality powered it more. Because it's not just a ring that symbolizes love or a bond between two people, but it's a new start. Blending the past they chose to leave behind together with something new and different. Safer and secure. Together," Alex said. Michael swallowed, eyes unable to break away from Alex's. Alex cleared his throat and looked back down at it. "That's what she said anyway. There was probably two at one point, but I'm sure the other is lost to time."
"Yeah, okay. Okay," Michael said, agreeing without hesitation, "I'll take care of it and keep it safe."
He went to grab it, but Alex pulled it out of his reach.
"Michael," he said, "When I say it's powerful, I mean the moment you put it on, something's going to… happen."
Michael hadn't really intended to put it on, but it seemed Alex knew him well enough to know that eventually he would. 
"What kind of something?" 
"I don't know, Michael. I just know legend says it has unspeakable levels of power. So, please, be careful with it. I'd prefer you do it with someone around in case it overloads you or something," Alex said. Michael didn't point out what Isobel had before–he was the only one who didn't have a limit.
"Why not just put it on right now?" Michael said, "We're in the clear and you're here. Why not?" 
Alex breathed in and out, staring at him with that same worried, downing look. Michael selfishly enjoyed it for a few moments–enjoying that he cared that much. So he smirked and held out his left hand, feeling confident.
"Go ahead, Alex. Put a ring on it," he said. A smile pulled at Alex's lips that he fought, but he relaxed his shoulders and grabbed Michael's hand with his empty one.
Alex's hand was warm. Michael was sort of obsessed with the feeling of it. Why hadn't they been holding hands this entire time? 
"I'm right here, okay? So if you need me to take it off or if you feel like you're going to lose control, let me know. Try not to throw me," Alex said. Michael rolled his eyes.
"I don't give a shit how much power I have injected into me, I'm not going to hurt you," Michael said. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Physically. Come on now, cut me some slack."
"Maybe," Alex said, putting the ring closer. Michael could feel it now that it was millimeters away from his skin, the power of it overwhelming. And Michael was intrigued. "Ready?"
"Always."
Alex slid the ring onto his ring finger.
The wave of power hit him instantly and, before he could adjust, sent him into a mindscape. Or–he thought it was. The room was damp and dark, unwelcoming. Michael looked around for something, someone, but he was alone. It was crowded with things, though, inventions and technological structures. It looked like his own lair but significantly less familiar, less comforting. 
“Michael?”
Michael turned towards the voice and saw Alex at the top of a ladder, staring down at him with a face that said he was doing everything to stay calm. He had red stains on his clothes. Michael stared at him, unsure what to do. Alex was down the ladder and centimeters away from him so quickly that it could only be achieved by him seeing something that wasn’t happening just yet.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, instinctually, “Where are we? What is this place?”
Alex looked around the room, his face betraying his pain before he met Michael’s eyes again. Then his hand was on Michael’s cheek with a warm and grounding presence. Michael’s heart was about to burst out of his chest.
“My research,” he sighed, “Half of it’s destroyed anyway. Let’s go.” Michael didn’t really think that sounded right. This didn’t feel like Alex’s space. He’d been in enough of Alex’s spaces before to know what they felt like. This wasn’t it.
“Your research?” he said. Alex gave him a look and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone.
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Stop that,” Michael said, his voice sounding more irritated than he meant. He could feel the anger in his body, but he didn’t know the source. “Stop not telling me things. You keep doing that. You need to tell me.”
“You’re right,” Alex agreed, swallowing, “But we need to get out of here. I swear I’ll tell you once we get in the car. But we need to get out of here.”
“You promise you’ll tell me in the car?” Michael said. Alex nodded.
“I promise.”
They were upstairs just as fast as Alex had been downstairs. Michael saw blood. He turned his head to find the source, but Alex’s hand was back on his neck to stop him.
“Don’t look. Let’s just go to the car.”
“What, you tryna baby me?” Michael asked, “You know I’ve seen some shit.”
“Yeah, I know,” Alex said, still leading him towards the door as his thumb dug slightly into the muscle on his neck, “Doesn’t mean I have to show you more.”
Michael sucked in a breath and he was thrown back into his body, the power from the ring still thrumming through him and teasing a possible second surge. It was old and unused and desperate to stretch out some of it's pent up energy.
Alex was there, staring at him and holding onto him. He was so close, so real, and so was that memory that was just in the opposite direction. Michael stared at him, taking him in.
"What happened?" Alex asked, hands squeezing his biceps. His hand started to slide up, but stopped at his shoulder. "Hey, you with me?" 
"Yeah," Michael said, "I'm okay."
"What happened?"
"I think, uh," Michael breathed, swallowing. His throat felt dry again. The heat of the hotel seemed to work with the heat inside him; he was on fire in the best way. "I got, like, That's So Raven'd."
Alex blinked a couple times, his thumb moving in slow circles against his collarbone not too far from where it’d been moments ago in his vision. Michael wanted to let his eyes roll back into his head and just sink into the bed with Alex beside him and let this undeniable strength course through him.
"You saw the future?" he said, "Like one of Maria's visions?" 
"I think so," Michael confirmed, "Only… mine wasn't of something bad. I mean, not really, anyway."
"What was it?" Alex asked. 
Michael licked his lips, studying Alex for a moment. The ring on his finger fit perfectly as if it was made for him. The power it gave settled nicely in him, pulsing and eager to be used just a little bit more, but in a childish, playful way. It wanted to stretch after too many years being cooped up.
"Hey, I'm going to try to see something else," Michael said. Alex's eyes went wide as saucers.
"What? Tell me what you saw the first time," Alex pressed, his hand shifting just enough to cup the side of his neck. Michael layered his hand over his, feeling bold and unperturbed. At some point, they were going to get there. He was sure of that more now than ever. 
And he wanted to see more.
" Michael ," Alex said, but Michael closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the power in the ring take him somewhere else.
And he was somewhere else. 
He was standing at the end of a driveway. He looked around and tried to grab some sort of identifier, but all he saw was a house behind him and then a school bus headed towards him. It stopped in front of him, a kid stepping off and running towards him with a backpack almost as big as she was. 
"Daddy!" the kid yelled and Michael tried his damnedest to act like he was meant to be here as the little body slammed against his legs for a welcoming hug. "Is Dad home yet? Can you tell him to get ice cream? I think we need ice cream."
"Oh, you think we need it?" Michael asked, walking with the kid towards the house. It felt natural, oddly enough. 
"Yes," the kid said simply, running towards the door. She threw it open and Michael laughed and jogged the rest of the way. He could hear her already telling a story about school and he was trying to stay close enough to follow.
He walked into a foyer, pictures lining the wall. Family portraits.
Him and Alex. The three of them.
When Michael came back to his senses, Alex was right there again and staring at him without faltering. The ring was still alive, but it was at a sated hum now that it had been used a few times. He wondered how it would feel doing something he understood. He couldn’t wait to try.
“Hey,” Alex said, soft and comforting as he welcomed his weight. The vision he had was definitely not what he was looking for, he wanted to know more about Alex’s research and why it all felt so wrong and where the hell they were, but the second one… 
“Hi,” Michael said, breathing and his eyes drifting down to his lips. Michael had experienced a lot of urges to kiss Alex before. Somehow this felt more dire.
“Please don’t do that again,” Alex said, “Maybe we should take it off.”
Michael shook his head carefully, eyes scanning him, “No, it feels fine now. It just needed to be used after being in a little box for decades. It’s good. Feels good.”
“Okay,” Alex said, still clearly hesitant. His fingers played with the hair at the back of Michael’s neck. There were two beds, but Michael was trying to figure out how to convince him to share one. They could fit. They’d shared smaller. “What’d you see?”
Michael breathed deep, wanting to get closer. He kept his hands to himself no matter how much he wanted to touch. He was being good. To get to where those visions said he was headed, he had to be good. Good for himself and Alex.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Michael said softly, “What are you researching? Who are you working with?”
Alex blinked once, twice before dropping his hand off of Michael. Which definitely hurt, but the fact that Alex didn’t move away definitely helped. 
“What did you see?” Alex asked again, more pressing, “I know you saw that I’m researching something.”
Michael shrugged. He technically did, but he didn’t see anything identifiable. He didn’t know what it was. He would like to. Then again, he’d always wanted to know everything about Alex Manes.
“I didn’t see what,” Michael said, “I just saw that someone’s going to fuck with it. I think. I don’t know, we were in this basement looking thing and it felt really off and, and not like you, but you said your stuff was in it. And you had blood on you and when we went upstairs, there was more blood. But you said not to look. I don’t know what you did or what happened, but, like, if you told me, maybe we can prevent it getting that extreme.”
Alex stared at him for a long moment. 
“You saw that both times?” Alex asked softly. Michael hesitated before shaking his head. “What else did you see, then?”
“Um,” Michael breathed, trying to think of the right words to say, “Uh. I don’t think, um…”
“ Michael.”
“Family portraits,” he said carefully, figuring that was easier to start with than a whole person who called them dad, “Like, ours. Um. I know we don’t belong in suburbia, but I guess we fucking get it anyway.”
He laughed. It wasn’t funny, but it was easier to say it like it was a joke. Alex looked at him, face confused.
“Suburbia? Like. White picket fence kinda thing?” Alex asked. Michael took a slow breath.
“I, uh, I didn’t see a fence, I was too focused on the‒” he stopped, licking his lips. Michael rubbed his thumb over the ring. It seemed to purr at the attention. Michael couldn’t wait to get back home and see what he could really do.
“On the what?” Alex prodded, reaching out to rest his hand on his leg and reigniting the contact. It felt so good. Michael really liked when he was touchy, it was his favorite thing about Alex.
“Um,” Michael breathed, feeling drunk off the attention and the ring all at once. He thought about lying, maybe that they were babysitting because that was close enough, but he was so tired of lies and half-truths and I’ll-tell-you-laters. “On the kid.”
Alex froze for a moment, “The kid?”
“Yeah,” Michael said, shrugging softly, “I, uh, I guess she was ours. She was calling us dad. Do we have any water? My throat is super dry.”
“I… I don’t think you’re seeing the future then, I’m never having kids. Do you realize how awful of a parent I would be? Awful. Neglectful. That’s not… And after I clearly fucking hurt people?”
“Maybe not,” Michael said, not about to argue right now. He was too busy feeling good. Alex kept his hand on his knee. “But whatever it was, it was good.”
Alex stared at him, quiet and clearly thinking things through. Michael let him. It was easier to give him space and time now. He’d gotten better at it before his visions, but they solidified to him that they were on a good path. It felt like they were making good choices and taking good steps. This was just a part of it.
Alex eventually took a deep breath, looked him in the eye.
“I’m gonna tell you what I’m doing, but you have to promise you’re going to stay out of it and trust me,” Alex said, “You promise?”
“I promise.”
“And you’re gonna promise to be honest with me?” Alex said, “And stay safe. Like, seriously. Don’t be reckless just because. I know you.”
I know you.
“Yeah. I’m doing better now,” Michael said, stretching his hand out, “I am. But I’m… I’m tired of not doing shit together. Doing stuff separately always gets us in shitty situations, Alex, I wanna be a team. Can I be on your team?”
Alex swallowed and moved his hand up, tucking Michael’s hair behind his ear.
“Yeah. Be on my team. Let’s be a team,” Alex said. He shifted and Michael waited patiently, watching him. “Okay, so. Deep Sky. It’s… it’s got some good people, I think, but it’s overall fucked. I don’t trust anyone in there, but it’s where I’m doing my research. Sort of. So I’ll tell you.”
It almost felt too good to be true to hear, but he didn’t need the ring to know that Alex was being honest. It showed him anyway. Truthfulness radiated off of him in vibrant blues and whites. He didn’t even need to get in his mindscape to be sure of it. It was strange to feel like that was unnecessary, like his body didn’t need confirmation because it already knew.  It didn’t feel like he was stepping off a ledge. He hoped Alex had the same confidence, wondered what would happen if he put the ring on him.
If Alex still felt like he was stepping off the ledge, he was going to be sure to catch every inch of him this time. No piece would hit the ground like all the times before.
He was going to make this work.
“Everything?” 
“Everything.”
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skellebonez · 3 years
Note
So, I have a weird request: Mei, Jin and Yin with 28 and 50. I fell victim of my own au and now I just want these three to be friends and cause mayhem.
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Ok, you both sent me these SO CLOSE TOGETHER BY CHANCE that I had to combine them. This is the most prompts I have shoved into one fill and I consider this an achievement.
You call this luck? No, this is all skill./That cute act is all just a lie./I was not expecting that to work as well as it did./Ok, who gave out my number? I have 12 missed calls, 4 voicemails, and 75 unread texts!/No, listen, hear me out. All we need is some really good disguises.
“Ok, who gave out my number?” Mei asked as she slammed the door to Jin and Yin’s workshop open with a harsh kick that sent it slamming into the wall, a scowl on her face. She wasn’t particularly angry, just annoyed, but they didn’t have to know that yet. “I have 12 missed calls, 4 voicemails, and 75 unread texts! I had to change my number because before I cleared the first set of notifications I had over 80 each!”
“How do you know it was us?” Jin asked defensively from his spot sitting on the nearest table, and Mei allowed her face to fall into an deadpan expression, raising just one eyebrow.”... ok, fair, it was Yin.”
“Hey!” Yin yelped as he rolled out on a skateboard from... whatever in the world it was he was working on. “Why are you calling me out like this? I thought you were my brother!”
Mei watched at the two got up from where they sat, getting in each other’s faces and arguing about “brotherly betrayal” and if she was being honest Mei almost thought that this would have been nearly enough to make up for her needing to change her number for the first time in years. Almost. It was when Jin yelled “That cute act is all just a lie!” and Yin gasped in offense that she decided she had enough amusement for the moment and whistled as loud as she could to get the twin’s attention.
“Alright gentlemen, may I ask why my phone number was leaked in the first place?” Mei asked slowly, gaze firmly centered on Yin.
“... In my defense, I didn’t post it publicly,” Yin said as he held up his hands in surrender. “I only gave it to one person and they said they were a friend of yours because I needed some tech they had and they said it was payment for the favor!”
“One person made 82 calls?” Jin asked with a look of disbelief and horror on his face. “Who has time for 82 phone calls?”
“They’re all spam bot calls and texts, it isn- Wait, go back a second,” Mei held up a hand, gesturing for Yin to speak again. “Who said they were a friend of mine?”
“A streamer guy, Bo-something?”
“BoFullStrike,” Mei said with venom lacing her words, a low growl sounding in the depths of her check. “Of course it was Bo, he’s been trying to get back at me for beating him at his best game for like 2 weeks now since our crossover stream like the sore loser that he is. He’s been trying to spam my email this entire time, apparently spam is how he gets revenge.”
“Is his name actually Bo?” Yin asked in curiosity.
“No, it’s just his screen name, but lets not get distracted!” Mei smirked, walking up to the twins and putting her arms around their necks in a half hug each. “To make up for ruining my phone, and because you like me, you two are going to help me get back at him so he will just leave me in peace.”
“Uh,” Jin and Yin looked at each other, then back at Mei and Jin continued. “Is, you know... Macaque gonna have to know about this? We’re already kind of in deep water with him as it is and-”
“No, listen, hear me out. All we need is some really good disguises.”
“And why am I being pulled into this?” Jin asked with a sigh.
“You two are a package deal.”
~
Mei had to admit, when the demon bros had someone who knew how to make a plan for them? They were scary good at what they could do. All three of their technological knowledge combined was a terrifying force to behold, and Mei could see they weren’t too shabby with designing things they weren’t tech itself either. The three of them, both Jin and Yin in their human forms, were disguised so well that Mei almost didn’t recognize her own reflection in her wig and make up. It was perfect!
What was also perfect was the absolute chaos erupting in the internet cafe they had tracked BoFullStrike down to. He really should take internet security a little more seriously, it was far too easy...
Just as it was far too easy to remote connect to the computer he was using to practice his gaming in on an alt account and completely mess with all of his controls and download some nasty nasty viruses onto it from the other side of the building. They weren’t anything too hard for the cafe to get rid of, and it wasn’t anything that would affect the entire computer network, but it was just enough to make the cafe owner pissed off enough to kick him out (that would have made her feel bad if she didn’t know Bo also lived on his own in his own house on his parent’s dime and only came here so no one would track his ISP to alt accounts, and that there were 20 other such cafes in the city for him to move to).
Now the other streamer was angrily stomping out of the building passing by the chaos trio and would have not even been aware of their involvement had Jin and Yin not yanked him half a foot into the (admittedly brightly lit and easy to see into) alleyway beside the cafe.
“Hey, BO,” Mei said with a smirk as the twins held an arm each for extra security. Like bouncers. Or very strange bodyguards she didn’t actually need. “Still angry I beat you in front of all your followers huh?”
“You!” Bo, or whatever his actual name was Mei didn’t care enough about this to remember that, said after a moment of confusion when he recognized her voice. “You humiliated me on purpose! Just like last time!”
“This time yes, that time? No, you humiliated yourself behind the scenes when you started trying to sign me up for car insurance scams,” Mei said with a sigh. “Look, guy, just leave me alone. No one except you cares that I beat you in a few matches at a game I was already on the leader boards for.”
“You just got lucky!” He scoffed, pulling his arms and tensing with a fearful look as he realized he couldn’t move.
“You call this luck? No, this is all skill,” Mei said with a smirk as she held up her phone and Bo’s face went white as a sheet at the information scrolling on the screen. “Yeah, you should probably invest in something. Like a firewall. A VPN. Literally anything. This was not hard to find at all. Dude, I kinda feel bad that you’re so bad at tech security so I am doing you a favor, just leave me alone and I will literally give you a high tech security system and never speak to you again.”
“Or... what?” Bo said with a shake. “You’ll post all my info online?”
“Hell no!” Mei winced with a disgusted look, shaking her head. “You’re being an asshole, but I’m not evil! I was just gonna sign you up for spam too until you took my offer. Ew.”
“Oh... well... I guess... sure?” The man looked mostly confused more than anything else, shrugging as much as he could before Jin and Yin let him go. “That’s... really it?”
“Yeah, dude, I didn’t want that much revenge just a little bit. Like I said, stop signing me up for spam and I will never speak to you ever again.”
“... OK,” Bo said, and yelped as Mei tossed some kind of USB drive at him. “Uh-”
“You have everything you need in there,” Mei said with a shrug, waving him off.
Bo shrugged again, still looking incredibly confused as he ran off, muttering something like “ok maybe that was kind of badass I guess” under his breathe.
“I was not expecting that to work as well as it did,” Mei said with a laugh, holding up both hands to either side. “Good job, my dudes, you are off the hook.”
Both twin’s palms met her own in very satisfying high fives, and all three thought they should totally team up for stuff like this more often.
(The next day BoFullStrike sent her an actual email with a proper apology.)
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mandoalorian · 4 years
Text
Touch Starved [Frankie Morales x Reader]
Summary: You and your best friend Frankie Morales have had silent feelings for each other since the day you met. No one could’ve ever guessed the strange circumstance which occurred one fateful night, and how the proceeding events would be the push you needed to take your friendship to the next level.
Word count: 6k (what the heck this is the longest piece i’ve ever written BY FAR)
Rating: 18+ only.
Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol consumption/intoxication, food/drink mention, lot of pining over each other and just some general fluff
Author’s Note: This is my first ever Frankie fic anddddd my first ever smut lol. Please be kind I hope you enjoy. PS if you want a part two let me know! xx
MASTERLIST | Submit your requests HERE
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•••
Your eyes were heavy and you shuffled into the cushion, adjusting your position on the couch until you felt more comfortable. You grazed your fingers against the pages of your book, but found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again in attempt to keep yourself awake. Even your two scented candles were close to burning out, and you figured it was time for bed.
Gently dropping the book on the floor, you closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamy sleep when a loud bang on your door woke you up with a jolt. Your heart was pounding as you bolted upright, clutching the thin wooled blanket that was lazily draped around your body in fear. Within seconds, you heard another bang on the door. Rubbing your eyes, you flicked on your phone and checked the time. 11-48pm. Almost midnight. You groaned, standing up and padding to the front door of your apartment. Who could possibly want to see you at this hour? You wondered. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, you let out an elongated groan.
“Who is it?” You called out and rubbed your tired eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair in hope that you would look somewhat presentable for when you greeted your uninvited visitor.
Without hesitation you heard him. A voice you were so familiar with. “It’s Frankie, man! You gotta let me in!” you noted that his voice sounded urged and your stomach filled with concern. Was he alright? Why was he at your apartment at 11-48pm? A million thoughts raced through your mind in just the second it took you to open the door. The thought of Frankie being here made you nervous, but excited. In a fluster, you stumbled with the door lock before finally managing to get it open.
There he was. His dark brown waves were tucked into one of his infamous baseball caps and he was wearing a dark green flannel and a washed out pair of denim jeans. You tried to search for answers in his face, but he truly seemed fine, other than the slight panic in his voice. He slid past you, allowing himself into your apartment and began pacing around.
“Would you like a drink?” You asked, almost rhetorically. Frankie didn’t answer, nor did he need to. You were already clicking open the bottle of ice cold Bud and handing it over to him. He took a big sip out of the alcoholic beverage, and you took the liberty of admiring him as he done so. He wasn’t watching you anyway, but instead focusing on downing the drink. That's what he needed. A drink to wash away his worries. How could he ever explain this to you?
You loved the way his chocolate brown eyes shone under the candlelight and the way his skin looked almost soft and golden. You waited patiently for him to finish drinking, never wanting to hurry him.
Frankie appreciated the atmosphere of your apartment too. He always had. It made a change from his current living situation. Frankie wasn’t picky as such, but living with his four best guy friends definitely had its downfalls. Whether that be Ben constantly hogging the living room television to play his Call of Duty video games, or Santiago bringing home a different lady every other night, making such noise that nobody but Will could sleep, or even Tom with his untidy behaviour and complete disregard for everyone else who lived with him. It wasn't great but what other choice did Frankie have? Other than you. You didn’t feel like a choice to him, you felt like a necessity. He needed you. You were his safe place, and your chic apartment felt more like home than his shabby downtown place.
“I gotta ask you a favour.” Frankie prompted eventually, sliding down into the cream faux-leather sofa and placing his bottle of beer on the coffee table. You took a seat in the chair opposite him and folded your arms, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind. Uhm… it’s a funny story to be honest. But, maybe it’s fine. It’s not fine. It’s just, well-”
“Spit it out Frankie!” You giggled jokingly, reaching over and nudging him slightly. He was immediately put at ease by just the simplest brush of your fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He found himself staring into the burning flame of your cinnamon scented candle. He felt mildly ashamed about how this whole situation had even surfaced in the first place.
“Me and Santi… we had a bet. A dare kinda thing.” Frankie explained, shuffling around with discomfort. He was definitely embarrassed that he had driven himself all the way to your apartment in the dead of night just to tell you this— or rather, ask you this. “The guys were teasing, you know how they are. About how- well, you know, I’ve never really been with a girl since…” Frankie paused.
“Marià.” You sighed, and Frankie nodded slowly. “Your ex wife…”
“Yeah. And I know it’s crazy but after the divorce and everything… I just haven’t really uh, had the opportunity. I mean I’ve had the opportunity it’s just- never felt right. I suppose. And you know, it’s not that I don’t want to start dating again. Or seeing women. Sleeping with wo-” Frankie was about to start rambling about his sex life (or lack there of) and you were not prepared to let your mind journey there. Not that you had never thought about it before… no. He was your best friend. And it would be wrong. Besides, Frankie had a tendency to over share but you were always there to help him get back on track, whereas others, namely the guys, would tease and mock him for it.
“Why are you here, Frankie?” You cut him off with as much delicacy as you could muster up. Your voice was soft, and Frankie noticed how gentle you had always been with him.
“Santi said he bet I couldn’t ask a girl out if I tried,” Frankie explained with a short sigh and you frowned. You knew Santiago well and you knew that he and Frankie were like brothers, but Frankie had been through a lot lately and Santiago never really had the best choice of words. You wondered if he had hurt Frankie, and instantly felt defensive over your friend.
“And then what happened?”
“I told Santi I could get a girl, and then, this afternoon, he asked me how I had come on. I lied, told him I asked out a pretty girl. He asked me about her and well, the girl I described… I guess… in my head I was just picturing you.” Frankie said, and finally glanced up at you, his pretty eyes shimmering in the dim light. You felt your heart rate increase at his revelation. “You know? It’s funny. This made up girl looks just like you.” He chuckled lightly. Your silence was deafening and his stomach filled with anxiety. “I don’t know why!” he assured but that was a lie. He knew why. He was your first thought at the start of the day you were his last thought at the end of the day. Every moment he got, he was thinking about you— pining over you.
“Oh,” you whispered, unable to process any more words. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You brushed away your feelings, thinking that you only came to Frankie’s mind because you saw him so much. You were the only girl he really hung out with.
“Of course Santi didn’t believe me. I’m a terrible liar. You know that. But I really don’t want the guys to catch me out on this! It’s so embarrassing.” Frankie was exasperated. You took to your feet and walked over to him, falling back on the sofa and resting your hand on Frankie’s forearm. To Frankie, your touch was like electricity.
“You do not need to be ashamed of something like this Frankie,” you assured him. Frankie took off his cap and ran his fingers through his brown locks.
“I know I know,” he sighed before looking back at you. “Santi wants to meet this fake girl. He’s been seeing Yovanna again and he’s organised a double date kind of thing. For him, Yo, myself and well… I'm hoping, you.”
You blinked hard. “Wait,” you paused. “You want to go on a date with me?”
This had to be dream. Had you just fallen asleep on the sofa? You pinched yourself and checked the wall clock above the television. Only a few minutes had ticked by. Definitely not a dream.
“Fake date.” Frankie corrected and you felt your heart sink slightly.
Or maybe it was a nightmare.
You shuffled around, not knowing how to feel. “Uhm, Frankie… I’m not sure…” you hesitated. All you had wanted for so long was to go on a date with Frankie. A real date. You had been dreaming about the day he would ask you out since you first met him, but this wasn’t what you had pictured at all.
“Please,” Frankie begged, clasping his hands together in a pleaing manner. “Just pretend to be my date.”
And how could you ever say no to Frankie Morales’ puppy dog eyes?
The night of the date, you and Frankie had agreed to meet at the restaurant. You hadn’t really discussed anything prior, but this date, albeit fake, was all you could think about. Every chance you had, you were thinking about Frankie. You wondered how it would be, pretending to be his date. And equally, Frankie was thinking the same.
He struggled to catch any sleep, and instead would lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He wondered how to fake a date. He didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and he simply hadn’t dated anyone in so long. He was so sure that he would embarrass himself, and that you’d never want to talk to him again.
Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were already sitting around the restaurant table before you arrived. It was a quaint little Italian place on the coast and it had the most beautiful evening view. The sky was darkening and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but instead, pearly white stars pierced the velveteen abyss above and it looked like something straight out of a romance movie. The environment was perfect. The place was slightly out of the usual burger joint budget for Frankie and Santiago, but Yovanna insisted on the high-end restaurant, and even Frankie had to admit it would be nice to eat some good quality food for a change.
You weren’t late, but rather Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were early. Frankie had already downed three bottles of beer before you arrived, trying to wash away his nerves. By the time you came, he was already slightly intoxicated. His ease was all that mattered and besides, Frankie was a happy drunk.
When Frankie saw you enter the restaurant, it was like his whole world stopped. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight he was looking at you in a whole different light. You weren’t in your usual sweats and hoodie, and truthfully he had never seen you like this before. Your little black dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your matching heels clicked against the marble floor as you padded over to the table. You felt a blush creep upon your cheeks when you caught Santi gawking.
“Whoa, you clean up well!” Santiago complimented, looking you up and down, grinning ecstatically.
Frankie tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He took in your bare legs and how fine they looked in your dress, and he admired the way you had styled your hair. It was out of your face, and he appreciated that, because now he could infatuate himself over your features. You wore minimal makeup, but your eyeshadow accentuated your eye colour and your choice of lip gloss plumped your lips slightly. Frankie’s eyes went from being drawn to your legs, to now your lips, and he cursed himself for the thoughts he was thinking. Fake date. He reminded himself; but he couldn't help but question— what if it was real? If he could, he’d take you in his arms right then and there and kiss you.
You took your seat next to Yovanna and opposite Frankie, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, but as you felt Frankie’s eyes burn into you, electricity sparked in your in your lower stomach. A certain kind of excitement. You pushed it away the best you could, focusing on reading the menu in front of you and deciding on the food you would order. Frankie pushed over a vibrant purple drink in a cocktail glass. “I got you your favourite,” Frankie smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. “I hope you don’t mind.”
You smiled and took a sip, but scrunched up your nose when the strong taste of vodka hit. “Um, sweetie,” You thought that tonight you would have to force out the pet names but it came so naturally. “How many shots are in here?”
“It’s a treble.” Frankie bit his lip, watching you with intent as you took another sip. His heart blossomed at the little name you called him.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?!” you gasped playfully and Frankie offered you another warm smile. “I don’t mind. Actually, I need it. Had a bad day at work.” you explained.
“It was Santi’s idea.” he admitted and Santiago innocently raised his hands in response. Frankie reached over the table, taking your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. “Bad day?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, concern peaking in his gentle voice.
“Talk about it later.” you promised. Frankie brought your hands to his lips and kissed them softly. You had to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. Your heart began to pick up speed again and at this point, you were finding it difficult to remember that this was all fake.
As the four of you ate your food, you and Frankie were flirting all night; playing footsie under the table and exchanging dirty jokes. At one point, you accidentally ran your heel up his leg and he let out an accidental groan, fillet mignon almost spilling out his mouth. You hurled with laughter and his cheeks rosied up in embarrassment. Both you and Frankie were enjoying yourself way more than you had ever even considered.
“Wait,” you spluttered out in a fluster of giggles. You were still laughing at one of Frankie’s jokes. “Yovanna and Santi have gone home.” You noticed, pointing your finger at the empty seats next to yourself and Frankie.
“Oh yeah,” Frankie replied. “And we didn’t even notice.” He burst into laughter again and you followed, the alcohol really letting you both lose your inhibitions. “That bastard left me with his and Yovanna’s bill too.” Frankie shook his head in disbelief.
“Let me help you pay,” you unzipped your purse but Frankie put his hand out and stopped you.
“Don’t worry baby, this is on me.” Frankie promised and offered you a cheeky wink.
Santiago and Yovanna were gone. They had no one to prove their fake date to— and yet, exchanging flirtatious comments were simply too fun to stop.
“Okay,” you laughed, taking a gulp of red wine. You were sure the warm liquid must have stained your lips crimson with how much you had drunk, but you weren’t too concerned. “But next time, I’m paying.”
“There’s going to be a next time?" Frankie asked you hopefully.
“Isn’t there?” you returned a smile. “This was the best fake date I’ve ever been on.” You and Frankie let out a boisterous laugh, even catching the attention of other couples who were sitting around you trying to enjoy their romantic candlelit dinners.
“Touché,” he agreed, taking out his wallet and signing a check before clipping it to the bill and standing up. He took your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled to your feet, falling into his chest. He was so broad and his arms were so big. Your feelings for him picked up a notch and you were unsure how long you could keep up the charade of pretending you saw him as just a friend.
You thought about how strong he was, barely flinching when you fell into him, and honestly, it turned you on. He slung his hands around your waist, slowly pushing you off his, but even when you weren’t resting on him anymore, he kept his big hands around you as you left the restaurant and walked through the parking lot to Frankie’s truck. You were grateful because without him guiding you and steadying you, you’d probably struggle to even reach the truck.
The close proximity between you and him made Frankie overwhelmed, his palms getting clammy and his cock hardening from your scent alone. Everything felt so intense. The cool night air took his breath away and he loved the way he could feel the shape of your body through your dress. He craved more.
He hoped that in the darkness of the night, you hadn’t noticed his throbbing length under his jeans. He slid into the driver seat of the car and you sat next to him, strapping yourself in. Frankie turned the key and as you set off, you both sat there in silence. Silence around Frankie was never uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a situation you were used to. It was a big difference to the environment in the bustling restaurant, but now it was just you two, alone, in his car— and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.
“Come home with me.” You said eventually, not moving an inch and still looking at the road ahead. You managed to find the confidence, but you weren’t yet able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your best friend. And you realised that what you were asking of him was a lot.
Frankie wasn’t put off, in fact, he felt his cock twitch at your words and he had to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. Did you really want him to take you home? As if on cue, you continued your proposal.
“Stay the night.” This verified Frankie’s thoughts and you hoped he had got the hint. You looked up into the rear view mirror and watched Frankie as he concentrated on driving, his body completely tensed up. He didn’t say a word, but when he detoured, you knew he was taking you back to your apartment. You wanted to calm him. Relax him. Soothe him. You let your fingers grace his jean clad leg, accidentally brushing over his erection. Frankie cursed under his breath. “S-sorry.” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. He was already hard. You crossed your legs tight together, trying to ignore the way your cunt was already dripping for him.
“No,” Frankie said. “Was good. Felt good.” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as you contemplated his words. He liked it. You moved your hand over his crotch again and began to palm him as he drove. He felt so constricted in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to get them off. It wasn’t long before his vision began to feel hazy under your touch but luckily he soon pulled up in front of your apartment. You removed your hand from his leg and let yourself out of the truck, feeling dazed also, and hurried inside. Frankie followed, loosing his belt as he stepped foot into the building. He was throbbing and in such desperate need of relief.
You pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come. By the time Frankie caught up with you, it was here, and the pair of you stepped inside. As the doors began to close on you, Frankie crashed his lips onto yours, pushing his body against you. This time it was his turn to touch you. His rough manner made you gasp but you needed to feel his body against yours. You let his hands explore you, his fingers rolling over the curves of your breasts and the dips in your waist. Within seconds, the elevator door opened with a ping and you had reached the floor of your apartment. Hungrily, you grabbed Frankie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to your front door, unlocking it with haste. Once you were inside, you turned to shut the door behind you when Frankie pinned you against it. His hands were on your wrists and your arms were spread out over the wood. He pressed a kiss into your jaw. “You want this?” his voice was rough and barely above a whisper, and his manner made your knees weak. He was so close to you, you could smell the beer mixed with his fragrance.
You didn’t dare move, but instead mewled out a tiny “yes”. Frankie smirked and turned you around so he could look at you in the eyes. He still had a hold of you, his grip was as tight as vice and his eyes were no longer the usual shade of honeyed brown but instead were much darker and lustful with a predatory glint. He kissed you again, hard, and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, begging for entry which you quickly granted. It was easy to get lost in the kiss; he was so good and so passionate. He worked his hands all over your body, pulling the occasional moan from your lips. Hearing the noises you made felt like music to his ears. You felt his hardened manhood press against the inside of your thigh and you shuddered, breaking the kiss to regain your breath. “Bedroom.” you mumbled out. You took Frankie’s hand and dragged him through the living room and into your small bedroom. He sat himself down on the edge of your bed and began to kick off his shoes when you took him by surprise and straddled him, wrapping your legs around him and initiating another heated kiss.
You needed some kind of release and on impulse, you began to grind yourself over Frankie’s denim clad leg. Your heart was racing as you rubbed yourself over the material, a fire burning deep in your stomach at the friction between the jeans and the thin silk panties you were sporting. Frankie placed a soft kiss to your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck as you began to get yourself off on him. He bit down gently, leaving his mark, wanting to claim you as his own. “Mine.” His voice was dark and you grabbed his shoulders, grinding on his leg harder.
“Yours.” You shakily exhaled, trying to keep your composure. You shuffled forward, further onto him and started rubbing yourself over his erection, pulling a groan from his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that this was your doing. You kept at it, enjoying the control, and watched Frankie’s eyes close from the sensation as you grinded over him.
“Yeah baby that’s it,” he praised. “Take what you need.”
Those four words threw you over the edge. You reached up, letting your fingers tangle in Frankie’s chocolate coloured locks of hair, tugging at them as you rode out your high. He opened his eyes, watching you as you dropped your head back, seeing stars. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Feeling satisfied, you scrambled off him, your legs shaky and he grabbed the hem of your dress. He began to pull it off you as eagerly as he could. Frankie noticed the damp patch on his leg from your wetness and muttered another curse. You were so wet and it was all for him. He looked up at you, watching you kick your dress to one side and felt his jaw tick. He was mesmerised by your body. In only your panties, you straddled him once more, and Frankie let his hands roam over your breasts, giving them the occasional squeeze.
“My turn.” you told him, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing him into the blankets of your bed. He let out a soft groan as his head hit your pillow and you shuffled backwards a little. You unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them before pulling them down to his ankles. Frankie kicked them off and they pooled into a pile amongst his shirt and your dress at the bottom of the bed. A little gasp escaped your lips when you eyed up his hardened length under the thin cloth of his boxer shorts, a small patch of wetness already visible. You dipped your hands into his underwear and pulled him out, licking your lips at the sight of his precum beading at the tip.
You let your fingers wander his length, teasingly, making sure you were as soft as possible. Then, you pulled away and spat into your hand. You wrapped your hand around his cock and began pumping at it. “Ngh, s-so good,” Frankie grunted, closing his eyes as you worked at him. “Haven’t-haven’t been touched in so long.”
“Relax,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you.”
Frankie bucked his hips further into your hand and you kept going. His eyes fluttered shut and his mind was in a solid state of euphoria. This was better than he had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn’t last long. You stroked him up and down and watched him as he came undone beneath you.
“Wanted this for so long,” he admits mindlessly. “Imagined this, so many nights… imagined your pretty lips around my-”
You cut Frankie off by taking his length in your mouth and pushing as deep as you could, opening your throat up to him and gagging slightly from his length. However, it didn’t take long to become comfortable with the way his cock filled you. He let out a gasp, his back arching and his fists grabbing the bed sheets. You bobbed your head up and down and he took a fistful of your hair, only encouraging you further.
He raised his head and watched you take him. Your hand still wet, you begin to pump the remaining length of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and he shudders in ecstasy. With your free hand, you cradle his balls, rubbing circles with your thumb and you can feel him almost lose it completely.
“Won’t last,” he warns you. “Please, wanna be inside you. Wanna feel your pussy.” he practically begs and as soon as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull off him, leaving a trail of your saliva between your tongue and his length.
You admired Frankie’s naked body spread out in your bed, a thin sheen of sweat glazing over his chest. It was a sight you had only dreamed about. He sat up and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down so now he was on top. He positioned himself in between your legs and gently spread them apart, eyeing up the dark patch in the crotch of your panties from where you had previously orgasmed on his leg. He let his finger glide over the material, rubbing against the bud of your clit and you whimpered in desperation. “So wet for me.” he drew out. “Can I taste?” he asked, looked up at you with his big brown eyes. You wanted to smack that innocent look he had playing on his face.
“Frankieee.” you cried out. You would never, ever deny oral from Frankie but right now you craved something else. “Need you inside me. Please.”
Frankie pulled your panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “Oh baby,” he moaned, running his fingers through your slick wet folds. “I’m just warming up.” his voice was like honey and he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking intently. You threw your head back at the sensation and felt his mustache and stubble tickle you as he worked your core.
This was better than anything Frankie had ever dreamed about. He needed to taste every drop of your arousal. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He wanted to savour every moment like it was his last. After all, you two were the best of friends and he didn’t know where exactly you’d stand about all of this tomorrow. If you’d even want to see him again. You were both risking a lot but somehow, it felt worthwhile.
Frankie found it difficult to remain composed as he devoured you and felt your body shake as you neared your climax. He grabbed your thighs, steadying you as you let out a wail. “Please Frankie.” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Need you inside of me.”  You reminded, tugging on his hair even harder. He took his finger and grazed your entrance while still working his tongue against you. “Stop teasing.”
For once, Frankie listened to you and pulled his lips away from you. He thought he could cum just from eating you out and he didn’t want that to happen. This could be his only chance. You groaned in frustration at the break of contact. You were so close and he had edged you completely before pulling away. You had asked for it. He was such a tease. Frankie hovered himself over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his cock nudge against your core and you dug your fingernails into his back. You needed him now.
“Do you have a condom?” Frankie whispered into your ear. He hadn’t brought any to the fake date because truthfully, he didn’t expect the night would be ending like this.
“I’m safe.” you promised him and he smiled, kissing your lips. You laced your fingers into his hair as he steadied himself on the bed.
“Are you ready?” Frankie questioned, nudging his cock over your entrance again causing you to let out a wail.
“Please Frankie. I’m ready.”
The second those two words left your lips, Frankie thrusted deep inside you. You gasped as he slowly adjusted himself inside of you and, still experiencing your high from when he ate you out, you knew you wouldn't ask long. He felt your walls tighten around him and he knew it too.
“I’m gonna cum.” you warned him, tugging on his curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down into your collarbones. He pinched at your skin with his teeth and increased his speed.
“Cum for me.” He instructed, his voice dark. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you came undone beneath him, dragging your nails down his back. He didn’t stop and continued to thrust into you as you climaxed causing small screams to emit from your lips. Frankie loved the little noises you made.
“Shit,” he whispered, his coarse hands finding and massaging your breasts. “Your cunt gets so tight when you cum.”
“Frankieeee, keep doing that and I’ll cum again.” you said softly and you felt Frankie’s lips twist into a wicked smirk as he pushed himself deeper inside of you.
“Ngh you feel so good,” Frankie grunted, pearls of sweat beading at his hairline. “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me another one?”
“Yes Frankie,” you obeyed, cupping your hands around his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes while he fucked you. His coarse facial hair grazed your hands but nothing felt as good as his length filling you up, hitting you in just the right spot with each thrust.
“I want you to cum with me,” Frankie gasped, groaning loudly as he felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close, and you could feel it too. “Same time.” he instructed. He was so used to giving orders, that it turned you on even more. “Can you do that for me?” his voice was urged and he kept his pace consistent.
You managed to give him a small nod and closed your eyes feeling nothing but pure bliss and ecstasy. “I’m close!” you managed to cry out.
“Me too, n-not long baby,” Frankie promised you. “Say my name.”
“Fuck Frankie, you fuck me so good. Your cock fills me up so well. Feels so good,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist.
“That’s it.” Frankie groaned.
“Cum inside me Frankie,” you gasped. “Pl-please. Need to feel your warm cum inside of me.”
“Gonna count down baby girl,” Frankie said, straightening up and pushing more hard thrusts inside of you. He admired your tangled body between him and brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it while he finished fucking you. “Are you ready?”
“Frankieeee.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.
“3, 2,” Frankie pushed one final deep thrust into you. “1.” You and Frankie both came together, your wet cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and his thick ropes of cum spilling inside of you.
Frankie rolled off you and lay next to you. You curled yourself into his damp chest and he slung his arm around you. You felt safe. Protected. You knew that Frankie would never let anyone or anything hurt you but now it felt different. He was your safety, and you were his home. For a few minutes, you both laid there in silence trying to regain your breath and settle down.
“That was-” Frankie started but you cut him off.
“So good.” you smiled and he grinned back in agreement.
“The best.” He replied and gave you a little squeeze of reassurance.
“Hey Frankie?” You asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. “If that was a fake date… what the hell do you do on a fake date?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled when you saw Frankie’s cheeks rosy up.
“Wanna find out?” He beckoned and your grin couldn’t have grown any wider. You were finally going to get your chance to have a real date with Frankie.
678 notes · View notes
realcube · 3 years
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'you're..you're wearing that-' he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, 'for me?'
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navi | taglist | nsfw part two
summary ➵ on your first date with tamaki, he’s already wondering why you romanticise a guy like himself
content warning ➵ reader wear make-up, a dress and the accessories pictured above, very insecure! tamaki, mild angst & fluff
credit ➵  thank you to @suneater18​ for the request and the pics belongs to hippieartesanatos
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the moonlight penetrated through the sombre clouds which waved overhead, creating a picturesque night sky for you to admire on your date; as if the heavens were smiling down upon you, congratulating you for scoring such a nice guy.  
well, at least, that is what you would’ve thought if your date was sooner to start. currently, you were shuffling on a park bench, fidgeting with your phone as your eyes flickered between the screen and the gorgeous sight above you, anticipating when your date will finally arrive so you can admire it together.
however, twenty minutes had passed since nine o’clock — the time you had both agreed to meet each other at — yet you were still sitting alone, tamaki no where to be seen. what make it even worse was that he was ghosting all your messages and calls. 
perhaps it was the first-date jitters speaking but there was a voice lurking in the back of your head, whispering that you have been stood-up. however, you were too ashamed to just get up and leave now, so you figured that you may as well call your friend and ask them to join you.
your eyes burned with tears which you choked back as your fingers worked on their own to search your contacts for your friend’s number. there was a part of you that believed you were being to hasty but you truly couldn’t bare to just sit here and act ‘hopeful’ any longer. with shaky hands, you tapped your friend’s contact as your thumb hovered over the phone icon.
“(y/n)!” 
you froze upon hearing your name called from a distance, your immediate reaction being to whip your head around to see who — or what — was in such desperate need of your attention that they were willing to yell your name from half-way across the park. 
and of course, it was none other than tamaki amajiki himself; dashing towards you at full-speed in a torn suit, muddy shoes and..his hair seemed to be unevenly cut. he wore a determined yet petrified expression as he came hurdling in your direction, a single stray tentacle dragging behind him as he ran.
a smile of both confusion and relief tugged at your lips, the pads of your fingers dabbing lightly under your eyes to rid of any puffy skin or dampness while simultaneously ensuring that you wouldn’t mess up your lashes or eyeshadow. 
“tama! you’re here!” you squealed, your hands automatically clasping together in excitement as he approached the bench, about to fall into the seat beside you due to how tired he was but pausing as he watched you spring to your feet and open your arms for a hug. his lips slowly curled into a weak smile, his expression softening and he didn’t waste a single second before throwing his arms around you, pulling you in for as tight of a hug that his worn biceps would allow him to.  
despite the fact he reeked of an ungodly amount of body spray, you still basked his embrace since this is the moment you spent the last three hours or so preparing for. you were quite shocked at how shabby he looked but you decided against questioning it, out of courtesy. but on the bright side, it really made you feel better about the outfit you had spent hours styling, yet you were still not completely sure about.  
tamaki suddenly pulled away from the hug so he could fall back onto the bench, letting out a hefty sigh and momentarily zoning out in order to catch his breath. you weren’t too sure whether it was appropriate to giggle or pout at the sight so you chose to not do either and instead, just awkwardly stand and stare at him.
a sharp inhale was all tamaki needed before he was finally able to sit up slightly and bow his head, folding his hands to you before blurting out, “i am so sorry i’m late, (y/n)!” and before you could even get a word in, he began his breathless explanation, “i got a small tear in my shirt and mirio said he’ll fix it but he made it even worse. then nejire said she’ll style my hair but she only knew a few male styles and said my hair was too long and before i could say anything she was chopping away at my hair-- and somehow mirio’s dog got ahold of my suit and it made the tears even worse! i was so stress and y’know when i’m stressed i stress-eat, so i began eating fish snacks and before i even knew what was going on, it was nine o’clock. so i ran here as fast as i could and i tried to manifest tentacles to help me move faster but it turns out i didn’t eat enough fish snacks so i only have one tentacle and i can’t even move it properly- look!”
the fact he said all of that in seemingly one breath left you stunned in place, with you eyes fixated on his rapidly moving lips until they instinctively shifted onto his single tentacle, laying dejected by his feet until it started squirming around. however, that was all it seemed capable of doing — squirming. 
“uuh,” you hummed, trying your best to stifle a snicker as tamaki was clearly in genuine destress. “it’s fine, tama! i was a bit worried that you wouldn’t show but it doesn’t matter, you’re here now so let’s focus on that.” 
your words somewhat calmed him down as his shoulders visibly relaxed, his red eyes tearing off the concrete ground to meet your kind gaze. a slight gasp escaped his lips as he noticed how gorgeous your make-up was, but before he could utter a compliment, his eyes went further downwards as he tried to process the whole of your outfit.
his cheeks immediately burned red at the sight; your stunning purple dress, shimmering heels and matching crystal accessories which were evidently worn to complement his own aesthetic. a certain piece which he was drawn to, was the golden, gemmed ear cuff you wore with pointed tips to form a similar shape to his own ears — one of his biggest physical insecurities.
“you look..” tamaki mused, momentarily cutting himself off to think of a word that would do you justice, “perfect.” his voice was hushed, hardly above a whisper but you were still able to make out what he said and a sheepish grin crept onto your features.
“thank you, baby!” you chirped, perking up slightly and giving him a little twirl, causing a burst of red to explode on his cheeks which he was quick to try cover with his hands. it was moments like these when he wished that hoodies were first-date appropriate, that way he could just sink back into his hood and pretend he doesn’t exist.
“you look really nice too.” there was nothing wrong with a little white lie every now and again. however, it wasn’t even said with the intent of being a lie as you secretly thought that the scruffiness kinda suited tamaki, like, he looked badass! like your prince charming who accidentally fell into a ditch.
your compliment didn’t help the increasing temperature of tamaki’s cheeks either, causing him to slump farther back in his seat as he muttered garbled speech under his breath. it took a good few seconds but eventually he was able to peer at you with a single eye through the inbetweens of his fingers,  “a-and i like your little ear cuff thing.
everything he said only widened your beam and make you feel more giddy, to the point where you were practically bounced in place, “thanks, tama! i saw it and immediately thought of you, so i bought it.” you stifled a squeal at how observant tamaki was being, praising all the small details of your attire which you thought would go unnoticed. “i decided to wear it today because remember how you showed me the tie you bought for our date?” you explained, vaguely gesturing at said tie which hung in tatters around his neck, “yeah, so, i thought we could match.”
it took him a few moments to process what you just said and while his brain was running on overdrive, you were met by his rapid blinking and frozen stature. having known tamaki for a while now, you knew how this was a fairly common occurrence when was truly stunned by something, so you allowed him some time in silence to consolidate. 
“so..” he started, trembling hand dropping from his face and onto his lap so you could see his whole bashful appearance. his gaze seemed to be trained on the floor, until he finally looked up to reveal the twinkle in his eyes, “you’re..you’re wearing that-” he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, “for me?”
the thought that you were ashamed to be with him was something that constantly taunted him from the back of this mind. you were heavenly in a way that his words simply could not describe, though that didn’t stop him from trying. it was beyond him how a person as divine as yourself would even give him the time of day; let alone insist that he was beautiful, leave encouraging notes in his locker, comfort him when he shows even the smallest sign of being upset, give him praise on all the thing he was insecure about and so much more.
when he looked in the mirror, he did not see what you see. he viewed his ears as creepy and not a feature he should put on display, hence a part of the many reasons why he’s so fond of his hood. but here you were, all dolled up in his favourite colour just to showcase that you were with him. your ears decorated with pretty cuffs that made them look a similar shape to his, at first glance.
when he’d walk beside you through the corridors of the school or under the shade of the trees in the park, he’d feel the eyes of jealous passersby burn holes through his skin; despite the fact you weren’t even dating him yet, people just hated seeing a guy like himself by your side, apparently. 
he stopped eating before meeting up with you so he wouldn’t have any weird manifestation that could draw attention to himself. he started wearing his hood up at all times so people wouldn’t judge him for his elven ears. he refused to touch you just in case people thought you were dating and became envious of him, which would quickly turn to hatred. 
so why would you want to look like him? why would you want people to know that you are on a date with him? why did you act proud to be with him?
you quirked a brow at how confounded he sounded, thinking over your answer with a hum; you wore this outfit for tamaki and yourself because you thought it was pretty and it suited you. however, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was no need to give tamaki the full truth right now so instead you allowed him to enjoy his rare surge of confidence by replying with simply, “yeah, for you.”
you weren’t going to be surprised that he was flattered, by now you were well aware that tamaki held all your opinions on him in high esteem so that’s why you always tried to be as nice to him as possible — that, and it was just in your nature to be kind towards him when he’s been nothing but respectful to you back.
however, what you didn’t expect was to hear faint sobs from behind his hands and watch as crystalline tears poured escaped from the inbetweens of his fingers, racing down the back of his hands. “tamaki..” you murmured, reluctantly taking a seat next to him to wrap your arms around, rubbing comforting circles in his shoulders like you usually did when he was sad. although, you weren’t even completely sure that he was disheartened by your statement. 
“i’m sorry.” you spoke in a hushed voice, leaning in close to his neck until your nose brushed against his skin, resulting in him tilting his head so it rested upon yours. “are you okay?”
“please don’t apologise.” he croaked, stifling his snivels to try show that he wasn’t upset. “you did nothing wrong. in fact, you’ve done everything right. i’m the one who’s been messing up.” he felt your hand ghost over his own and without a second thought, he intertwined his finger with your own, freeing his other palm to place it on your shoulder and exposing his pale, tear-stained face is the process. 
“i know it’s hard but you should tell me what’s on your mind, tamaki.” you hummed, gently caressing the back of his hand with your thumb and planting a kiss on the damp skin of his cheek. his cologne was still suffocating strong but if you were to die, it would ideally be while cuddled up to him, under the celestial night sky. 
opening up had never been an easy task for tamaki; especially about a subject that concerned his physical appearance and emotions. but there was a knot in his chest that would simply come undone when he was with you. he couldn’t explain it, but all the barriers and walls he had established to avoid getting his feeling hurt or heart broken would come crashing down whenever he was with you. perhaps it was a familiarity, maybe it was your reassuring presence or might just be pure love and adoration. 
either way, he found him himself babbling on about anything and everything that bothered him with little regard for his own pride or secrecy, he voiced every thought that came to his mind in the moment. he told you just about it all — all his problems and insecurities —and you listened, offering him encouragement whenever he’d cut himself off, saying something along the lines of, ‘i-i’ll stop now, i sound silly’ or ‘you’re probably tired of hearing me prattle on’. though, of course you didn’t want him to stop until he had gotten everything off his chest as it was a rare sight for him to talk for such lengths at a time so the last thing you wanted to do was discourage him.
“i just..” tamaki stammered, coming to the end of his passionate ramble, “don’t understand why you want to be seen with me, let alone wear those.” he raised his shaky hand from your shoulder to gesture to your ear cuffs, “don’t get me wrong, they look cute on you, but i just don’t get why you’d want to have ears that look like mine.”
“because yours are beautiful!” 
he winced at the compliment and at how sincere you sounded, “well, i’m glad you think that, (y/n).” he muttered, not even having to finish his statement as the dejection in his voice made it obvious that he did not view himself in the same light. his gaze dropped to his feet which were shuffling uncontrollably,  “i don’t know why i’m making such i big deal about this. aren’t you annoyed?” 
your let go of his hands only to slip them around his neck and pull him into your embrace, you felt him tense up in your arms but slowly allow himself to relax his cheek onto your shoulder. “i’m not annoyed, baby. i get what you mean and it’s horrible that you feel that way.” all tamaki could do would tick his tongue in agreement. 
“i know i tell you this all the time but i honestly think you’re so attractive, inside and out. i was so excited when you agreed to date me, i could’ve died of happiness on the spot!” you chirped, momentarily jerked your head backwards so you could peck the tip of his nose, giggling as he scrunched his face up cutely at the sudden touch.
your angelic laugh rung through tamaki’s head, forcing his lips into a smile as he gawked at your adorable action. “i love you..” tamaki uttered, raising his voice ever so slightly to ensure that you heard what he said, “so much.” thanks to you, his sobs were now just mere sniffles into the crook of your neck. 
you inhaled sharply, eyes-widening at his words; you would’ve never thought he would be the first on to say ‘i love you’, but you were far from disappointed, in fact you felt yourself melting further into his touch.
you felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing slowly retuning to it’s regular pace as he squeezed his eyes shut, cancelling out all his other senses so he could focus on the way your body felt against his own. 
he wanted to be confident. he wanted to take pride in himself for you. he was tired of restless nights filled with tears due to his worries berating him for simply existing in your presence. 
it wasn’t going to be easy but he needed to start acting on everything you said. because eventually, it wouldn’t just be for you, it’d be for himself.
and of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by you when he started wearing his hood less often, when he began holding his head up higher as he walks by your side, the way he now shoots warm smiles at people who try to glare at him.
and five years later, how he didn’t bat an eye at deadly glare that the waiter — that had been subtly flirting with you all night — shot at him as he got down on one knee, in front of the whole restaurant. 
220 notes · View notes
solastia · 3 years
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Tuqburni: Finale - Heartbreak
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Pairing: Yoongi X Reader, Hoseok x Reader
A/N: Here you go with an alternate ending where she DIDN’T choose to go back to them. Angst, with a bit of hope (hyuck). Please remember, in my mind the other ending is canon and I will be releasing an epilogue eventually of them together in the future. Until then, enjoy this. It really hurt me to make my Yoongichi cry. 
*******************************************************************************************
You sat on your tiny patio in the beat-up rocking chair you’d bought from a thrift store as you waited for Namjoon to come by. You probably could have waited inside, but it felt too big and empty for your liking. A familiar knock rattles your very wobbly-sounding door and you get up with a sigh, closing the sliding glass behind you as you head to the front door. 
You open it without checking, knowing that there were only two people in the world who knew where you lived now. 
Namjoon and Seokjin are standing there with hands brimming with equipment. 
“Come on in. The room’s mostly set-up now.” 
They kick off their shoes somehow and scuffle towards the second bedroom that was mostly sparse beyond a desk holding your computer, a chair, and soundproofing foam panels on the walls. In the pair’s arms were the rest of the recording equipment you’d need to establish the room as your official workspace. 
Namjoon mumbles that he can take care of the setup so you let Jin pull you to the tiny kitchen and put on some tea while you wait. 
“So...how was your first night as an independent woman?” Seokjin asks while he pulls down your new mugs and turns on the kettle. 
“...Alright, I guess. Quiet,” you murmur softly, putting bags in the cups. 
He nods in understanding. You’d moved out of their place after staying there for nearly a month. You’d tried leaving earlier, but Seokjin and Namjoon had been adamant that you needed to stay and let them watch out for you for a little while before you decided. Personally, you’d suspected that they’d probably thought they were on suicide watch, but you were fine. Well, perhaps not fine, but nowhere near thinking about that kind of thing. 
“I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you or not, but you should know that Yoongi didn’t take it well,” he sighs and sets down his cup. “There was...a lot of yelling. A lot of...you know...him puffing up and getting angry at us to hide how devastated he was. He blamed us and said we were turning you against him and that setting up a studio in your apartment so you’d never have to see him again was obviously something that I came up with because you would never do that. He even started saying some stuff about how Namjoon was obviously using this as a chance to steal you away because of the tiny crush he had on you back when you all first met.” 
“Oh, Jesus,” you huff and rub your eyes. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. He’s...that’s just always been his fighting style. He zeros in on the one thing he can say that would hurt you the most and stabs you with it. Please don’t hold it against him.” 
He reaches over and pets your hair softly. “I know. It’s...it’s going to take a while but he’s going to need us too when this starts to settle down a little more. Right now you are our priority because you’re the one that’s been wronged, but...he’s still our marshmallow Yoongichi and we’ll need to pick him up too. Even if we are incredibly disappointed in him. Both of them.” 
You nod, closing your eyes. “He...did he look...bad?” 
“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie. His clothes were all messed up and he’s gotten really skinny. Don’t think he’s eating much either. But...you don’t need to worry about that. That’s not your responsibility. He made his choices. Jimin made his choices. Now it’s time for you to have your turn.” 
You nod silently, knowing he was right. That didn’t make it any easier. 
It felt almost like you’d been in a trance since that night Yoongi had ordered you to leave. You remembered driving to Jin’s and sitting in their guestroom, staring at the ceiling blankly once your chest hurt too much to cry any longer. 
When the knocking started, there had been one tiny spark of hope that Yoongi had finally come to his senses and was there to apologize. To drop to his knees and beg you to come back. That he would do anything…
But the high tones of Jimin’s begging squashed that final dream. Yoongi couldn’t even be bothered to come even now. He had to send Jimin to do the talking for him. And finally...FINALLY...you were overcome by rage. 
No more. You were done. 
You shook your head no to Namjoon’s silent question over whether he should let Jimin inside, and then you just stood there listening to him trying to talk through the door. He said some things that surprised you and some that didn’t. You’d known he was developing some sort of feeling for you - whether that was actually love or that he just liked having sex you didn’t know, and really you weren’t sure you cared anymore. 
He’d managed to stick around for an hour, which had impressed you, but you hadn’t been surprised when he finally gave up and left. That had also been the last time you’d seen or heard from either of them. Yoongi hasn’t tried to call and you certainly weren’t going to be the one to beg for him to take you back. You had absolutely nothing to apologize for. You’d done nothing but love that man with everything you had - and it still hadn’t been good enough. 
It was with that thought in mind that you essentially set up camp in the Kim household while you tried to figure out your next steps. They’d been kind enough to go get some of your belongings. Apparently, Jimin had cried while he helped them pack up enough for now and promised to have everything else ready for them to come back for later. Namjoon put you on official leave from work and with a few changes on social media you were now almost officially completely severed from your life with Yoongi. The house had been in his name, you’d never combined accounts, your car was your own. Honestly, it seemed almost too easy. Your lives were now entirely separate beyond the tears in your soul that would last forever. 
Namjoon had convinced you to keep your job, promising that you could work from home and the company would cover the costs of converting your second room into a studio. It was incredibly indulgent on his part but you didn’t even think of turning him down. You loved your job and you definitely needed the financial comfort it would bring as you started over. The rest of the apartment was still kind of shabby since you’d been worrying about the studio first, but eventually, you’d get around to making it feel like a home. 
Namjoon struts from the studio with a grin, wiping his hands together. “All done! Just waiting for you to set up passwords and stuff now. Kinda jealous now. Jin, can I set up a studio at home? I like the idea of working in my underwear.” 
Seokjin scowls playfully. “Don’t even think about it.” 
You huff lightly, but don’t miss the way they seemed to be discussing something with their eyes before they both turn to you. 
“There’s...uh...something else that you should probably know. You might not want to know or care but we thought we should at least tell you,” Namjoon begins, his eyes constantly flitting between yours and Jin’s. 
“Just tell me, Joon.” 
“They, uh. Yoongi and Jimin, they...broke up? I guess. Don’t know the whole story yet but apparently, Jimin’s been staying in a hotel near the company. We’re all watching Yoongi closely to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself, but, yeah. Thought you should probably know,” Namjoon says quickly, cringing like he expected you to go on a rampage despite the fact that you never have before. 
Instead, you simply scoff, because wasn’t that just perfect. All that pain you went through, all the fighting and sacrifices, and in the end, it was all for nothing. 
“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks softly, bumping your shoulder with his. 
You smile up at him, though it doesn’t meet your eyes. “I will be.” 
******
“I can’t believe you’ve done this.” 
You sigh angrily into your phone as you walk towards the cafe, wondering for the millionth time why you let Kim Seokjin order you around so much. 
“It’s been six months, sweetie. It’s time and he perfect for you, I promise! He’ll be a drooling mess at your feet in no time.” 
When you’d gotten ready for the café, you’d thought you were simply meeting your friend Jin for coffee and gossip, like usual. Only he’d called you when you were only a couple minutes away to inform you that it was actually a blind date. Surprise, bitch. 
“Does he at least know why he’s there?” 
“Of course! He was really excited too. Seems he’s had the hots for you for ages.” 
You were thankful he couldn’t tease you for the blush on your cheeks. “No one calls it the hots anymore, grandpa.” 
“Nevermind. Date canceled. I’m not saddling my Hobi Hobi with someone so disrespectful…”
“Calm down. Fuck, I’m not dressed for a date, Jinnie. I thought it was just going to be us so I’m just wearing jeans and a hoodie.” 
“It’s not my fault you don’t dress up for me.” 
You finally reach the café and stare at the sign like it would give you courage. “I can’t do this…” 
“Breathe. You can. You have no reason to feel guilty or undeserving. I picked the best one I can find for you, but if it doesn’t work out that’s okay too. There is no pressure. All I want is for you to be happy.” 
Your heart swelled, remembering that, oh yeah, this is why you kept Kim Seokjin around. 
“I really love you a lot, you know that right? You are the best friend I could ever ask for.” 
He chuckles happily. “I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you get mad at me. Good luck. Call me if you need to escape. Treat Hoseokie with care, too. He’s like one of those Gremlins. Don’t put him in water or anything high, and he turns into a weird sex demon after midnight.” 
“Should I ask how you know that?” 
“I know everything about everyone, my dear Y/N. Everything.” 
You’d call him out on his bluff if you were more certain that it actually was one. 
“Alright, I’m going in. Love you.” 
“Love you. Be nice to Hoseok.” 
You close the call and stuff your phone in your pocket, taking the chance to brush out any wrinkles and calm yourself. You just wished that you were wearing something cuter than a pink hoodie that you were pretty sure belonged to Jin at one point. At least your converse were pink to match and you’d done your hair. 
You enter the café, the stupid little bell making everyone’s heads turn toward you like you weren’t nervous enough. You think you spot the guy in question sitting next to a window, but you buy yourself some time with getting your drink first, peeking at him out of the corner of your eye. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t know him at all, you’d just never really talked to him. He worked at the company as a choreographer so naturally, you’ve seen him around. It was merely that producers like you were usually goblins that cooped themselves up in their studios and didn’t really get around to meeting everyone. It was impossible to not notice Hoseok though. Beyond the fact that he was handsome, he was also incredibly bright. Both inside and outside. You were sure you’d seen every color of the rainbow on his head at some point, and it was currently a flattering shade of orange that not many could pull off. 
Once you had your drink in hand, you turn and head towards the table. Hoseok is already standing to greet you, his smile wide and unabashed, and you finally begin to feel the first tingles of excitement. And maybe a few nervous butterflies. 
“Hi, Hoseok,” you smile shyly and sit when he gestures to a chair, trying not to laugh when he nearly tumbles trying to sit back down. 
“Hello!” he practically yells, and you finally notice that he just might be nervous too. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi. Thanks for coming.” 
“Yeah, I...uh. I’m going to be honest - I only knew this was happening a few minutes ago. I thought I was meeting Jin,” you smile awkwardly, chuckling. 
He cringes and seems to droop before your very eyes. “Oh, sorry. I...I don’t want this to be a forced thing. I’ll just...uh. See you around?” 
He gets up to leave and you’re not sure what makes you grab his jean jacket to stop him. 
“No, please. Stay? I...I’m going to be bad at this because it’s been a long time but...I can try?” 
His smile is the happiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. “Yeah? Okay. Alright, let’s do this.” 
You laugh and settle back into your seat, watching him as he does the same. He’s so expressive and vocal as he starts telling you a story about his day (one of his new kids fell and made the other ones fall like dominos and now his best dancer was out with a sprained ankle). He asked questions about your life, your interests, asked about your work. He was so beautiful and yet he looked at you like you were something awe-inspiring. It had been a long time since anyone had seemed so genuinely interested in you. Before you knew it an hour had flown by and your stomach was beginning to hurt from laughing so much. 
“So, I was thinking if I hadn’t scared you off yet, maybe you’d be willing to continue this date? But like, somewhere else because if I drink another cup of tea I’m going to burst,” Hoseok wrinkled his nose and sent you a shy smile, a single tiny dimple poking out. 
“I’d like that,” you grin, surprised yet again that you actually meant it. That you were actually excited to spend more time with him. “Maybe we could just walk around for a while and talk. There’s a park across the street and lots of people play music and stuff. And then maybe you could take me dancing tonight. Show off those moves you keep bragging about.” 
Where had this confident woman come from? 
Thankfully, his grin widens and he nods eagerly. “That sounds perfect. But first...little boys room. Be right back.” 
You giggle and settle back into your see as you watch him scurry frantically to the bathrooms - no surprise since he’d downed three cups of peppermint tea. You turn to observe the room to pass the time and that’s when you spot him. 
He’s standing near the pick-up counter with an iced americano in his hand, the condensation and half-melted ice suggesting he’d been there for a while. His haunted gaze is locked right on you and you meet it even as your stomach clenches with a myriad of emotions. 
Six months. Such a short time in the grand scheme of things but still so long since you’d last seen him. He’s as beautiful as ever, even if he’s obviously been losing weight that he didn’t need to and his lounging around the house clothes he was wearing in public gave off the IDGAF vibe. 
Yoongi seems to finally come to a decision as he saunters closer, eyes wide and unblinking like he’s afraid if he looks away for a single second you’ll disappear. He finally reaches your table and you fight the instinct to make a run for it. 
“Hey,” he says softly, his hand clenching tightly enough around his drink to make the plastic crinkle. 
“Hey,” you answer softly, unsure of what else to say. 
“You look beautiful,” he continues with a soft tone like he’s speaking to a spooked rabbit. Perhaps he was. 
“Thanks.” 
He nods silently, continuing to stare. “So...you’re on a date with Hoseok?” 
“Uh...yeah,” you swallow nervously. “Blind date. Seokjin set it up.” 
He nods again and licks his lips. “Yeah? That’s...good. Hoseok’s a good guy.” 
“Yeah. He seems nice.” 
“Yeah.” 
“You’re...doing okay?” You’re not sure what prompted you to ask. Perhaps there will always be a part of you that worries about him - you already know that there’s always going to be a part of your soul that belongs to him. 
He shrugs, “Alright. You?” 
“Yeah. I’m good. Have an apartment and going to counseling.” 
He flinches as if you’d just slapped him. “Sorry.” 
“It’s not just...because of you or what happened. It’s, you know, the past and all that too. Just needed to work things out. I think it’s helping. Maybe...maybe you could try it too.” 
“Maybe,” he responds noncommittally, his eyes finally falling to the floor. “I miss you.” 
Your heartbeat quickens. “Yeah. I miss you too.” 
“Do you think...maybe we could try…”
You cut him off before he can even finish that sentence. “No.” 
That was maybe too harsh because he looked like he wanted to melt into the floor straight to hell. 
“I...will always miss you. And a part of me will probably always love the Yoongi I had before, but no. I don’t quite have the gift of words that you do, but I just know that we weren’t right for each other. I mean, I was technically just a very long rebound before you got your chance with Jimin again, in the end.” 
“That’s not how it was. I loved you. I love you,” he grits out, his eyes taking on a steely edge as he looked back up. 
“Yeah. I know you did, just maybe not the right way. And I loved you, but I let you bulldoze over me. So maybe we could have been good, but you got greedy and I needed to learn to not be a doormat.” 
He nods and once again looks like a kicked puppy. 
You sigh and tap on the table nervously. “But for those years that we were together - I will always love that Yoongi. I will look back and remember that once upon a time there was a man and a woman who were crazy in love and built a home together. Who had dreams of building a lifetime together. I will hope that Yoongi has a happy life and that he finds what he needs. That he can find a companion who makes him want to fight for what they have together.” 
The tears streaming down his cheeks make you pause, realizing you’re fighting back some of your own. 
“I love you, Min Yoongi. But you weren’t right for me. Now it’s time for me to find my place in this world. Maybe Hoseok is it, maybe he isn’t. I’d like to think I don’t need another person to help me feel complete. Whatever it is, I’m learning how to speak up and fight for myself. I hope you can learn to be happy for me.” 
He nods, sniffling. “Whatever you want. I just...I just wanted you to know. I love you. I really did. And...I’m sorry. For what I did. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt Jimin. Do you think...you’ll ever want to at least talk to me?” 
“I don’t know yet. Maybe someday. I don’t think you’re ready.” 
“Okay. I’ll be here.” 
“Yeah. I...you have to go home now, Yoongi. I’m on a date.” 
His watery eyes widen again, and he nods slowly. “Right, yeah. Sorry. Again. And...please. Call me or whatever if you ever need anything. I...won’t expect anything else. Just know that I’m here if you need someone. Can I ask for that, at least?” 
You nod, “Yeah. Thank you, Yoongi. I’ll...see you around.” 
He gulps and backs up. “Yeah, see you, Y/N.” 
He turns swiftly and practically jogs towards the entrance while you try to memorize what could be your last glimpse of the man you once loved. 
“Everything okay?” 
You jump and your eyes fly over to meet the sympathetic ones of Hoseok. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I saw him talking to you and thought it was best to let you have privacy. Was that okay?” 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “He just wanted to talk. And...it was good. I think I finally feel a little more closure.” 
“So...I’m not like a rebound, right? Like, I know that you guys were dating and I heard some of it from Seokjin but...” 
“Uh...you’re the first time I’m trying to actually date since Yoongi. If that clears things up a bit,” you answer with a blush. You were not about to go into detail about those couple months of desperate hookups you’d used to try and gain your confidence back before you’d started therapy. 
Thankfully, he seems to not mind that bit of news judging by the wicked grin that paints his lips. “Oh?” 
“Shut up,” you growl, playfully swatting him. 
He chuckles and reaches out a hand to you. “Do you still feel up to continuing our date? If not, I’ll totally understand and we can reschedule. I’ll only cry and stress-eat a tiny bit, I promise.” 
You snort and accept his hand, letting him help you up. In a moment of bravery, you lace your arm in his and tug him towards the entrance. 
“Just you try to get away from me now, Jung Hoseok.” 
He giggles and lets you lead the way, both of you exiting the café and feeling hopeful about the future. 
176 notes · View notes
hood-ex · 3 years
Note
Hello, so this is for your video clips prompt request, I of course expect nothing and only send this in the hopes they might strike inspiration.
Running out of gas (me and my mom did this half way to Colorado it was wild™️)
Someone falls into the Missouri River on a pit stop
Gas station snack acquisition
Part 3 of my series that shows short video clips taken during Dick and Robin!Jason’s trip to the mountains.
Read Part 1 and Part 2
Jason trails behind Dick on the shoulder of the highway. He pans the camera away from the cars that are whizzing past them on the left to the empty red jerrycan that Dick’s carrying. He finally settles the shot on the back of Dick’s head. 
“People are staring at us!” Jason shouts, unaware that the wind blowing against the microphone distorts the audio. 
Dick holds his fringe back with one hand while he looks over his shoulder at the camera. “We ran out of gas and that’s what you’re worried about?” 
“I don’t want people to think I’m an idiot just because you wanted to test how long we could go without filling up!” 
“And now I know,” Dick grins. “And now you know what to do if you ever run out of gas.” 
There’s a pause. The wind crackles through the mic. 
“Wait...” Jason grabs at Dick’s billowing shirt. Dick keeps walking with Jason clutched to him. “This isn’t some kind of training exercise is it?” Dick ignores Jason’s insistent tugs. “Is it?” 
“That’s for me to know and for you to never find out.” 
“Bro, what the fuck!”
“I’m gonna make you carry the jerrycan back if you keep squawking like that.”
“I wouldn’t have to squawk if you hadn’t gotten us into this situation!” 
“Jay, chill. We’re almost to the ramp.”
Jason groans and turns the camera around to face himself, revealing his wild hair and disgruntled expression. “You see what I have to deal with here?” 
Static
Jason zooms the camera in on the hot rollers where the hot dogs wrapped in pancakes are slowly rotating around. 
“I kinda want to try one,” Jason says, turning the camera on Dick who’s filling up a cup of coffee at the drink counter. 
Dick turns to see what he’s referring to and scrunches his face in disgust when his eyes land on the meat. “I’m not paying for that crap.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” Jason says hotly. “I can buy it with my own money.” 
“I know you can,” Dick says with his hands raised placatingly. “The money’s not the issue here. All I’m saying is that those hot dogs are probably filled with things that are gonna make you feel like shit.”
“You think my stomach of steel can’t handle it?” 
“I think that if you wanna blow chunks, be my guest, pal. But if you throw up in my car, you’re scrubbing it out by yourself.” 
“Let me guess. You have cleaner in your car right next to the jerrycan, don’t you?” 
Dick shrugs and takes a cautious sip of his coffee. “What can I say? That ‘always be prepared’ thing comes in handy sometimes. Now come on. Pick out what you want and let’s blow this joint.” 
Static
The sun is shining bright by the time they make it to the park to stretch their legs for a bit. Dick takes the camera and films some of the dogs walking past them while they walk along the bank of the Missouri river. He’s in the middle of filming a cute corgi puppy when Jason strays from his side to peer at the river over the edge of the bank. Dick follows him through the grass, shifting the focus of the camera between Jason and the slow moving water. 
“Why don’t you jump in? You could use a bath,” Dick jokes. 
“You first. Age before beauty,” Jason says with a grin that slowly morphs into a look of contemplation. “How deep do you think it is?” 
“Right here? Probably about three feet.” 
“Not too shabby. Next time we should bring some of those pool floats and let the river carry us around all Huckleberry Finn style.”
Dick huffs out a laugh. “Pretty sure they weren’t floating around on a raft for kicks.” 
“Did you read the book?” 
“Nope. Saw the movie.” 
Jason makes a face. “The book’s better than the movie.”
Dick turns the camera around to face both of them as he slings his arm around Jason’s shoulders. “You like reading, huh? I remember seeing lots of books in your room that time I stopped by.” 
Jason looks off to the side shyly. “Yeah, I guess... I—” A dog barking close by makes him pause. 
“Cooper! Cooper, get back here!” 
Dick and Jason both look over their shoulders at the same time a brown blob excitedly launches itself at their backs. The camera goes flying out of Dick’s hand and tumbles across the grass right as a loud splash is heard. 
The camera faces the sky while the microphone picks up Dick’s panicked cry of, “Jason!” 
“Oh my god!” a woman yells over the sound of Dick throwing himself into the water. “Cooper!”
Barking. Splashing. 
Coughing. 
“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Dick asks worriedly. 
“I’m fine... I’m—” Coughing. “Water went up my nose... but I’m—”
“Is he okay?” the woman asks, voice shrill. “I’m so sorry! My dog... he... Cooper got away from me and I couldn’t catch him before he—”
Water sloshing. Wet shoes squelching in the grass.
“Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten away from you if he was on a leash like he’s supposed to be,” Dick snarls, his voice much louder now that he’s closer to the camera. 
“Dick!” Jason hisses, mortified. 
“I... you’re right... I—”
“My brother could have hit his head on the rocks at the bottom of the river!”
Barking.
“I know, I’m so sorry!” the woman says, clearly frazzled between dealing with Dick’s hostile tone and her barking dog. “I didn’t bring his leash today and I... Cooper was just excited and jumped on him. I’m so sorry! He’s really a sweet dog and he loves people. He—”
“It’s okay! I’m okay,” Jason stresses. “Really. Don’t worry about it. No harm done or anything.” 
“Yeah, right. No harm done,” Dick says sarcastically. 
“Dick! Shut up!”
Barking. 
“I should take him home now and get his leash... I really am sorry if he hurt you at all. It was an accident. I’m so embarrassed!”
Grumbling. 
“Dick!” Jason hisses again. 
The sound of feet crunching through the grass is heard before the camera captures Dick peering down at it with a thunderous expression on his face. Water drips off of his hair and onto the lens. 
“This thing better not be broken...”
Static
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youalexturnermeon · 3 years
Text
Warm Beer and Cold Women (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)
Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon
A/N: Again, Johnny Lawrence x Reader and again it’s gonna be multiple parts (ONLY IF YOU WANT ME TO) because I just can’t keep it short
Warnings: badass reader, drinking, swearing
Wordcount: 1589
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“Look, (Y/N), your boyfriend’s back.”
You heard that sentence almost every day during your late shift. Everyday, for about a month now. Jenny, your college at the half empty bar never held herself back. Just like right at the moment when she said that with a grin as you two stood behind the counter and polished glasses to look busy.
You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend!” You insisted on it every night as well.
“Your loss, he’s kinda hot”. And Jenny’s answer was also the same every time. This conversation always felt like a déjà-vu, except that it literally happened to you every damn night you had to work. You let out a deep sigh trying to focus on the empty glass in one of your hands and the dirty cloth in the other. Yet you couldn’t help yourself to take a peek at the man who just arrived and took his regular seat at the end of the bar counter. He came here every day and he never made a secret out of doing it just because of his favourite barkeeper – you. He was indeed hot; you thought every time. Although he probably was in his late 40s or maybe even early 50s and looked like he’d seen some shit in his life, he was damn attractive, he had a full head of blonde hair, the bluest eyes you have ever witnessed on a person and he was more athletic than most men your age. You caught yourself hungrily eyeing his toned body, muscles almost popping through the tight black shirt he was wearing.
“Hey gorgeous,” he called over to you when he noticed your glance. And the biggest and brightest smile appeared on his lips. “Hi, Johnny.” you greeted him back, trying to sound the most disinterested and lazily walked over to him.
“Who do I have to screw to get a beer around here?”
You rolled your eyes again, supressing a stupid grin. You almost allowed your brain to picture an image of you two in the men’s bathroom. You pulled yourself together and shook this indecent thought off.
“Most certainly not me.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“But if you want me to,” you gestured with your thumb to the door, ‘staff’ written on it, behind you, “I can go fetch Kenny, he won’t say no to that. It’ll get you at least 2 free drinks, I think.”
Kenny was a big old biker, with long grey hair and a long grey beard, dressed in leather from head to toe, who owned the shabby bar you worked in. He also looked quite scary if one didn’t know him. Johnny’s smile twitched into a disgusted grimace. And you laughed from planting the thought of Johnny screwing Kenny inside his head. He didn’t like him very much.
“If you weren’t the hottest chick I have seen in my whole life, I would’ve called you a stupid bitch of a barkeeper and left you without any tip. But your pretty face and your great ass saves you all the time, huh?”
“Yes, Johnny,” you replied sarcastically “this has brought me very far in live, after all I’m a respectable barkeeper in not the shabbiest bar of Reseda but quite close to it, renting a luxury 1-bedroom apartment next to the most famous meth-head on the block for much more than it’s worth. Are you having the usual?” Johnny nodded, and you went off to get him his beer and whisky. Sometimes it was hard for you to be so mean to him, he was the only man on earth who showered you with complements all the time, not giving up flirting with you no matter what you said. But after all, he was still a local drunk hitting on a barkeeper. There was a lot of those, you had a few of them every night and Jenny even more. The only thing different about Johnny was that he was very good-looking and the most persistent of them all.
Jenny winked at you as you drew a beer from the tap system and poured the cheap brown liquid into a shot glass.
“How’s the love life going?”
“Fuck off, Jenny!”, you grunted and made your way back to the regular. You placed his order in front of him and stood still, arms crossed. To be fair, you didn’t have anything else to do, it was Tuesday night and only a few people sat in the dark corners of the bar getting drunk just by themselves. You might as well just let yourself entertain by the man who appreciated you.
“So, tell me,” Johnny started after he took the first sip of his beer, “How is live treating you, (Y/N), anything badass happened to you recently? You good?”
He always asked you how you were although you never really answered. You admired his endurance.
“Actually, quite the opposite?”
Johnny’s eyes widened a little and he stood his beer glass back on the counter. Surprised about a different answer today and curious for it being elaborated.
“What is it?”
You leaned over the counter and lured him closer to you with your finger, so close that his face was right in front of yours and your breath tickled him. He smelled quite nice, you reckoned, you did not expect that.
“The thing is,” you started whispering into his ear, him excitedly leaning even closer to you, happy over the slightest contact “there’s this creep who keeps coming into the bar. Almost every day, I think he’s a high-functioning alcoholic. And he just can’t leave me alone for once, always hitting on me, always talking to me. He might as well be stalking me and he’s like 20 years older than I am. Should I be afraid of him?”
Even though all you said was a lie since you didn’t think of Johnny as a creepy stalker anymore, rather a lonely guy, your words weren’t intended to be so hurtful. As soon as they left your lips you bit your tongue. Was that too much this time? But you wanted to get rid of him, did you?
“I heard he’s a quite good-looking bastard, tough.” Johnny retorted immediately without even flinching as if none of what you said struck him in the slightest. And that’s what you liked about him, he still wanted to woo you.
“And maybe if you’d give him a chance, you’d realize what a good fucking guy he is.”
You let out a hateful laugh. That would break your one and only work-rule.
“Nah, I don’t fuck with regulars.”
“Who said something about fucking?”
You bit your lip, no one did, it was your brain picturing you and Johnny again.
“You look damn hot doing that,” he said with a smirk and you promptly released your lip from your teeth.
“I’ll cook dinner, we watch a movie on my couch – “
“Thank you very much but I can have stale pasta at home by myself.“ you interrupted him, the corners of your mouth twitching. To be honest, you would like to have that, but you already were too far into acting like you hated everything he said and did and above all just him as a person.
“C’mon, (Y/N), when do you finally let met buy you a drink”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Johnny rolled his beautiful blue eyes, “You say that all the time”
“Because you ask me that all the damn time.”
“’Cause I like you.” “Seriously Johnny, fuck off, you’re boring me.”
“Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?” he exclaimed and maybe you were imagining that but for the first time since for ever you could make frustration out in his tone. That was exactly what you wanted, right?
“Woah,” you held your hands up “Watch your filthy mouth. You’ll have to give me a big fucking tip tonight, Johnny or I really go fetch Kenny so he can kick your sorry ass out for good.”
“No, I’ll just screw him instead, then I’ll be fine” You snorted, that man was unbelievable. Johnny, clearly satisfied with himself and his joke smiled with triumph.
“See, I made you laugh”
“Yeah, whatever” you said waving. And in that moment the huge mountain of a man, Kenny, came out of his office and stared blankly into Johnny.
“You’re gonna do what!?”, his voice roared through the bar, and Johnny suddenly became all small in his seat. You burst out laughing and finally used that situation to remove yourself from that scene. After all, you had work to do, you couldn’t just spend all your hours with Johnny. Even if you liked to.
“Uh oh,” Jenny said mockingly when you leaned against the counter next to her with a big sigh, “Relationship troubles?”
You nodded with a grin and made yourself a shot of vodka ready. You threw your head back and poured it down your throat all at once, you groaned but it felt good.
“Wow, would it have killed you if you did that with that poor guy over there?” Jenny signed over to Johnny, now sitting all alone looking down his fourth beer.
You shrugged; you didn’t want to indulge him that much.
“C’mon, you clearly in love with him and you know that.” “I don’t!” “You do, you like him.” “I fucking don’t. Stop making shit up in your hollow head!”
But that was a lie. For you the sun shone out his ass, that’s how much you liked him.
**************************************************************************************
Would you guys like me to write a second or maybe a third part??? Pls let me know?
also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my one shots and stuff
PART 2
234 notes · View notes
herstroywritten · 3 years
Text
Their Aching Firsts.
I still have no excuse for my obsession with them. Not sure how I feel about this particular story, but I wanted to post something for the start of Rivusa week for the hell of it. It’s about 7k words (I apparently can’t stop writing them once I start and their works end up being endless). Oops.
Fair warning, there is a umm *spicy* scene near the end there. I don’t usually write those and I tried to keep it as vague as I could, but I thought I’d mention it anyways. Other than that, enjoy and let me know what you think!
The first times they kissed, it was fueled by anger- he grabbed, she pulled, they crashed.
The first time they talked about it, it wasn't so much a conversation of words as it was one of looks. His eyes said "I want you and it terrifies me." Her eyes said "I think I want you, too. And I think I'm finally ready to admit that."
The first time Musa realized her new favorite jacket was once his, she stares at herself in the mirror for over an hour. She misses lunch with the gang and Riven comes knocking at her door and opens it to find her standing in front of that mirror in a state of awe. She's bathed in black leather, sleeves reaching the tips of her fingertips.
"You ok?" Arms wrap around her waist as she toys with the hem of the jacket. She looks at him through the mirror and smiles.
"I just want you to know I'm never giving this back."
He huffs a laugh as he lets his head fall to her hair, breathing her in. Lavender and something sweet that he's never been able to pinpoint. "Not even if this falls apart?"
She whirls around to face him. "I don't intend on letting that happen." Her hands are on the collar of his shirt, eyes blazing with stubbornness. He knows then that her words are a promise, a commitment and not just a comment in passing.
"I don't know, Muse. You still have time to regret all this. Regret the ruin of your reputation. What will people say?" His words are teasing, but she can see right through them. She senses his vulnerability, his apprehension.
"There are a lot of things I regret in life- yelling at my mother when I was fourteen because I didn't want to clean my room, being a bit of a bitch to my suitemates at the start of the year, hiding instead of fighting because I was too scared to see what my powers could really do. The regrets are endless. But, you, Riven, are not one of them."
He frowns, blinks away the swarm of feelings within  him. "Yeah?"
She bunches her hands on his collar and pulls him down to her mouth. "Yeah."
"And what if I'm the one to end this?"
"And do what? Date some other girl for the hell of it?"
"Maybe, " he grins. "I hear I'm hot on the market now that I'm on the good side." She pulls him all the way down then, kisses him hard.
"Give it a try. Whoever she is, she won't last more than a day. And she'll defiantly never have you. Not really. I have you right where I want you, Riven. You're mine and you know it." She blazes a fire in him with her words.
"Oh yeah? And how would you know that?"
"You're here, aren't you?" She's all sass as she cocks an eyebrow at his question. "And, plus, it's kinda hard to lie to an empath."
And then she's kissing him again. This time with so much passion that he can't make sense of the world around him any longer. She pulls away only to tell him, "And I bet she'll never get that reaction out of you."
"No. No, she won't."
________________________________________________________________
The first time he calls her his girlfriend, it's not exactly in the situation she had imagined.
"Girls, I need to tell you something." Musa's voice wavers slightly as it rises above the noise that is their friends' laughs and chatter.
They're on the roof of Alfea, clustered among one another on the edges of old, shabby stones. The sky above them is dark and heavy. Stars wink at students from behind perfect clouds, ones that Musa remembers seeing in old cartoon movies that she used to watch with her parents when she was younger. From up here, the rest of Alfea seems like their whole world, its students miniature figures in a dollhouse. It's a perfect night, just as it should be. Rosalind is gone, out of the school and although that's not good enough, it's something. And Headmistress Dowling is alive and back in charge of the magical boarding school, where she belongs. From her perch up here, she can make out the headmistress' perfectly done hair as she leans back and laughs at something Silva is saying. She sees Professor Harvey heading towards their table, scolding students along the way to back away from the school's boarders. She's surprised that they haven't tried to stop all the drinking that going on. It seems that even the professors have had enough of the fighting, so much so that they're no longer focusing on the minute details of teenage life. Plus, she suspects that when they called for a party to celebrate the revival of Dowling and their taking back the school, they had fully expected the drinking. In fact, Musa had even seen Silva sneaking a few drinks to the teacher's table, but she'd never tell him that.
She can still hear Terra's squeal when Dowling had announced the party. And she can feel the toll of the  heels Stella had insisted she wear on her feet. It has brought everyone so much joy, this little piece of heaven that they're being allowed, and she's been so very glad to just bask in it. After months of walking around with her headphones constantly on, trying desperately and failing to block the thoughts of despair, gloom, and pain, she welcomed the change. It had taken a lot out of her, but she had even worked up the nerve to leave her headphones behind for the party. The girls had been surprised at first, but then Bloom had stepped forward, wound their arms together, and led her outside the suite. She's been getting weird looks from them all night, little side glances with small smiles and questioning eyes, asking her if she was okay or if she needed to head out for a bit, take a breather. She'd returned them all with reassuring smiles of her own, letting them know that she was fine. And she was fine, but probably not for the reason they thought. Yes, the students around her were happy and she didn’t have much negativity to deal with from them right now, and yes her powers were getting better. But the reason she was doing so well had to do nothing with the students around them or her ability to control her magic and everything to do with the specialist across from her.
Riven and her had been a bit of a dichotomy since the start of her second semester at Alfea. They were paired together for combat classes from the very beginning of Rosalind's reign at Alfea. He'd flirted, as he did with everything that had a pulse and walked his way, and she had shut it down. Odd how that had only encouraged his behavior. Odder how she'd eventually come to appreciate it.
It was a slow transition, their thing. She had been resistant to accept she liked someone so very opposite to her last boyfriend, hesitant to give herself to that natural disaster that seemed to be Riven. Honestly, it seemed like a loss for a long time. She'd lay in bed some nights, staring at her ceiling, listening to Terra's slow breaths as she slept, and just think about the fact that just a few months ago (God, it boggled her mind that it was only a few months ago… where did time go? And how did they get here, in a school run by a once presumed dead war leader and a woman that seemed to exude death from her presence alone?) she had been perfectly happy with Sam and the silence that he brought. Sure, they had eventually called it quits once she had realized she couldn't live in silence forever and he realized she needed to learn to shield herself from harm. It had been tough, but they were friends. And she had been okay being single again. Truly, she had. So how she'd come to crave noise- his noise, loud and obnoxious emotions that sent her body tingling and her mind reeling- she doesn't know. But it had happened and once she's finally just accepted it, the ball was in his court. Too bad for her though, because just as hesitant as she was, Riven was ten times more resistant to the pull that existed between the two of them. Musa remembers all the nights they'd sneak out and he'd teach her new moves with a staff and sometimes he'd let her use his swords, teasing her as she struggled under their weight. She'd head back to her suite before the sun came up, always frustrated because couldn't he see?! Couldn't he tell? Why else would she show up every single night without fail? Why else would she stick around when the training turned to teasing and taunting turned to conversations in hushed tones? Long story short, it took him being under mind control and her breaking it for him to just finally, finally kiss her. And from then on, it had been secret meetings in different corners of the school, in their rooms when no one else was around, and anywhere else they could find some privacy.
She's itching to cross the space that separates them currently and slip her arms under his jacket, an action that she'd first done on instinct but which had quickly become a habit once she had realized the effect it had on him. She's been eyeing him the whole night, fully aware of his gaze on her. There's a reason she hadn't argued with Stella when she'd been handed the lavender slip of a dress that she currently wore. She'd even managed to forgive the light fairy for the strappy silver heels she had practically forced into Musa's feet when she caught Riven staring up and down her bare legs. 
"Musa? What is it? Are you ok?" 
Bloom's worried tone pulls her back to reality and she forces herself to face away from Riven and toward the girls. She'd avoided this conversation for so long, but it had to come out at some point tonight and it had to happened before one of the girls found them in some shady corner with their clothes half off. 
"Oh, no I'm fine! It's not that." Now, how to approach what it actually was? 
Aisha's confused tone follows her reply, "Well, then, what is it?"
"Um, it's kind of a little complicated…" Musa's voice trails off and she has to physically stop herself from turning back to Riven to see if he's ok with this, with what she's about to say.
"Musa you're freaking me out a little here," Stella's eyes narrow at Musa's fidgeting her hands. Huh, she hadn't even noticed herself playing with the hem of her dress.
"Oh no! Did you actually kill that poor guy that tried to hit on you?" Terra sounds worried as Musa just groans at her words.
"Ughhh. Terra, we said we wouldn't talk about that."
"What guy?" Riven's question comes at the same moment as her whine, except his is louder and much more aggressive. All heads turn to him, and Musa curses the jealousy that she feels coursing through his veins right now. Damn it, couldn't he just keep it in long enough so she could explain to her suitemates what the hell was going on between them? His eyes are all rage and warning as he stares Terra down. And for some reason, she's all worked up at his gaze and doesn't know what to do with herself. She really shouldn't be so attracted to this side of him.
"What's it matter to you?" Aisha questions, eyebrow raising in his direction.
"It just does."
"Really, Riven? The middle school comeback? Classic."
"Stay out of it, Aisha. I wasn't talking to you."
They're bickering back and forth, and Musa can sense both their patience straining. This is not how she was hoping this would go. Finally, she steps between them, one hand on Aisha's shoulder and the other on Riven's chest. "Ok, that's enough."
Aisha glares his way one more time but steps back, Riven does not.  Instead, he turns to Musa and asks her, "What guy, Musa?"
"It doesn't matter, Riven."
"It does to me."
"Well, it shouldn't. It was just some drunk dude with a bad haircut. That's it." She's trying to reassure him, to let him know that this thing they have going on isn't just something she's going to drop the first chance she gets for any guy that makes eyes her way. She knows that's one of his big insecurities. He has it in his head that he's not good enough to deserve this, something that isn't completely fucked up from the very beginning.
They're trading glances, a secret conversation of their own  happening between them.
"No!"
All heads snap toward Bloom. The second she turns around, Musa knows that her redheaded roommate has figured it out. Bloom is grinning at the two of them, practically bouncing on her heels as she grabs onto Sky's arm and tugs on it. "Did you know about this?! Why didn't you tell me?!" 
Sky (bless his soul) looks at his girlfriend with confusion evident in his face, "Know what?"
Except it's Stella that answers, "They're dating."
And then mayhem ensues and Musa suddenly wishes she had thought this through because she's feeling so much from so many people right now and she's not quite sure how to handle it. She tries to hide the wince that forms on her face as she tries to answer all the questions her friends are practically screaming her way, but Riven must have noticed it because he reaches for her hand and pulls her out of the circle the girls have formed around her and closer to him.
"Alight, that's enough." It's the rasp in his voice that sends her spiraling every time he speaks, and she's putty in his hands. It's pathetic, she should have more self-control than this. "Yes, we're dating. Yes, she's my girlfriend. And, Aisha, no I did not pay her or threaten her into it. Gods above!" He takes a sweep of the room, gesturing to all their friends with a hand as if to say 'you're all very welcome.'
"Any other questions?" No one speaks up. Not that Musa would have heard any of them because good gods, did she hear him right? Did he just say what she thinks he said? Is she his… girlfriend? They'd avoided so many labels for so long that it had completely slipped her mind to actually name this thing between then by the time that they had finally become something substantial. And she's been fine with that deal, with not having to name their relationship, but hearing him call her his girlfriend has send her body trembling, fire coursing through her veins and butterflies bursting in her stomach.
And then he's pulling her away, down the stairs that led them up to the roof and between hallways that blend into one another as her mind focuses on the way his hand grips hers and the lust (his? hers?) that seems to be engulfing her whole being.
She lets him lead her into his room, onto his bed, and just as he leans down to kiss her, she moves down and places a kiss on his neck instead. Looking up at him, she tests out the word that's taken over her brain since it left his lips, "Girlfriend?"
"Fuck. Is that not what this is? I, I don't know- I kind of figured- I don't know. Shit, sorry-" If she wasn't so very in love with the idea of being his girlfriend, his something (just his), she would have let his ramble continue. She didn't get to see this often, a flustered Riven, and it was a sight she found quite adorable. But, alas, she had other plans for tonight.
She bends her neck upward, uses her toes to push herself up the bed, and kisses him ever so lightly on the lips. Just enough so that he stops talking. A feather's whisper of a kiss, against which she purrs "That is exactly what this is if that's what you want it to be." 
His eyes are black with want when he closes them and his hand comes up to trace the edges of her jaw. His breathing speeds up as he leans his forehead against hers, and that's how she knows he's trying to collect his thoughts, watching his words as he often does when he's scared he's about to make the wrong move, say the wrong thing. She swears she's going to get him to stop doing that around her, because she wants his thoughts, every single one of them, as raw as they are. She doesn't want the filtered version. And she can feel them, mingling into the background as his insecurity takes over. Her hands find their way to his jaw and now they're holding each other, "Tell me."
He opens his eyes, opens his mouth to tell her, just as she knew he would. He'd never deny her anything and she's learned that in the short time that they've been together. He'd collect the stars and fashion them into a necklace she could wear around her neck if she asked for the universe. He'd start and end a war if she so much as suggested it. He'd give her his soul, she thinks. All she needs to do is ask, and he breaks for her. Crack by crack. Splinter by splinter. Until he's cleaved wide open and she sees all of him.
"I do, want that. I want you." His voice is gruff, guttural. "What about you? What do you want?"
God, how does he still not get it?!
"You." A whisper, and then a kiss.
_______________________________________________________________
The first time he makes her cry, it's not because of something he said. It's because of something he did.
It had started like any other day- breakfast, classes, social gatherings at the end of the afternoon. Musa and Terra had just left botany lessons and were heading towards the specialists training grounds to meet up with Sky and Riven before they all went to grab dinner together. It had been all fun and games, Terra and her grumbling about how ravished they were and laughing along at each other's comments. But Musa had sensed the uneasiness that radiated from the training grounds the second they had rounded the corner of Alfea's large lawns. Silva was especially on edge, and the fact that he had all the upperclassmen and the best of the specialists lined up as he walked back and forth between them shouting orders could not be a good sign. And with an insane mastermind on the loose, Musa had feared the worst as anyone else would. She'd taken off running, and Terra had followed without any questions, trusting her instincts.
She only caught glimpses of Silva's orders. "… Five burned ones… Two upperclassmen faries out there already… We need to leave now- I'm going to need ten of you out ASAP. Five more will guard the school grounds… Any volunteers?" 
Her heart stopped when in her peripheral vision, she saw Sky and Riven's hands go up. This would be the third one this month that they had volunteered for, and the last time they left the school grounds Riven came back with a broken foot that he's still limping along on. The word left her mouth before she could think about it, "No!"
He turned to her, surprised to find her standing among the specialists. "Musa?"
She can't be bothered to greet him, not right now, not when he's practically signing up for his own death. So, instead, she stares him straight in the eye and says it again. "No." 
But Riven is as stubborn as she is, and she knows he's been itching to prove himself again, to make up for what he did under the control of Rosalind just a short while ago. His words crush her soul, "I volunteer for the outside team." He's talking to Silva, who's eyeing the two of them with an intrigued look on his face. He nods curtly at Riven's words. But Riven is looking at her, his jaw set and tilted upward with determination.
"Alright, Sky and Riven, you'll lead the charge. Get your weapons. We leave in five minute. Go!" And then he and Sky are running toward their weapons bags, Musa and Terra hot on their tracks.
She catches up to him just as he's strapping on his swords. Her hand comes to pull at his wrist, motioning for him to face her.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" He won't look at her, won't meet her eyes. "Riven, I'm talking to you! You can't just volunteer yourself up for everything that could kill you! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Whatever you're trying to prove, stop it!"
He's reaching for his fighting boots, switching into them. Whether he's just not listening or if he just doesn't care, she can't tell. She wants to kill him. She wants to kiss him. 
"Please," she can't believe she's begging. "Please, Riven. Your foot. You can't-"
"I'm doing it, Musa." She sees fury, internalizes it before her insides form it into something tangible and she can see it, feel it. It's red and blinding and raging.
"I'm asking you not to." He won't say no to her, he hasn't done it yet. She asks and he cracks for her right? Right?
Wrong. 
"LET'S GO, SQUADRON 1!" She barely registers what Silva's command means until Riven is standing up.
"I'm sorry, Musa." And she knows he means it, because when his hands fall to her shoulders, quick and rushed, they're firm. He leans down to kiss her goodbye or as a form of apologizing, she's not sure, but she turns her head away from him and he ends up kissing the space between her cheek and jawline. If he won't look at her, then she won't look at him. And if he won't listen to her, then she won't give him the satisfaction of her approval. It's petty, she know that. She senses his emotions deflate at her actions, the feeling of rejection cutting into his heart like a shard of glass ripping through flesh. But she's seen this movie before, she knows how this story ends. Too many specialists have left the school's walls wounded and eager to pick a fight, only to come back on the brink of death or even worse, they haven't come back at all. And the idea of him becoming one of those statistics hurts more for her than her rejection will ever hurt him.
She doesn't turn to watch him leave, but she hears his boots beating against the pavement as he rushes to catch up with Sky… and then silence. 
She's so numb by now. Numb to death, to feeling, to crying. She doesn't cry. Not when Terra comes to hug her from behind. Not when they're back in the suite and Bloom is practically sizzling with anger at the fact that they didn't think to bring her along on the mission and that Sky is being sent on yet another mission. Not when it's midnight and Dowling informs that the specialists made it back safely.
She doesn't go down to greet them when the other girls rush out the door. Terra lingers in the doorway.
"You sure you don’t want to come?"
"I'm good." She's staring outside the huge window of their living room, refusing to look down at the ground and try to make out if someone is missing in the mass of specialists standing in the courtyard.
"Musa-" She feels pity and worry coming from Terra, and she doesn't want to deal with it right now. She just wants to be numb for a little while longer.
"I said, I'm good."
Once Terra is gone, she turns away from the window and goes to sit by one of the couches. She counts the floorboards by the main doorway of the Winx suite. One, two, three, four, five, six…
She counts them three times over before the door finally barges open, it's hinges creaking from the immense force of the push just enacted upon it.
Riven's eyes frantically search the room before they finally fall on her. He walks towards her, limps actually. (She knew his foot wasn't healed, no matter how much he insisted it was.) He has blood splattered on his right side. His or someone else's, who knows? And when he finally reaches her, and falls to his knees in front of her so that they're eye level with one another, she finally cries.
He reaches for her. She pushed him off. "Fuck you, Riven. Really, fuck you."
"I'm sorry. Muse, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I-"
"Why don't you ever listen? You keep walking into wars as if they're welcoming parties. Do you want to die?! Do you have a death wish? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She's being mean, unfair. She doesn't care. If asking won't work, maybe screaming will. And she's exhausted. Exhausted of worrying about him every time he leaves. Exhausted of wishing he would listen. Exhausted of fearing he's the one that didn't make it back, because it's almost been him so many times by now.
"I had to Musa." His voice is soft, odd in comparison to the loud tone he usually takes when they argue about this topic.
"You always have to! You don't have to prove anything Riven. And you most certainly don’t have to die for no fucking reason!"
"You don't get it-"
"So explain it to me!" He sighs deeply, and closes his eyes. "No, Riven. Explain it. What don't I get?"
He finally opens his eyes, throws a string of colorful swears at the ceiling before moving his gaze back to her. "It's not just proving something. It's that if I go and… if I go, then one less specialist has to go. And that's one less person with people that care about them having to go. And that's one less tragic death, and then a whole lot less people hurt. If I go… who cares, you know? And, honestly, shouldn't it be me? A taste of my own medicine and all that. After all the shit I helped Rosalind do." She senses his bitterness, feels his anger and destitute.
He's an idiot.
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
"And you're beautiful," he quips back. She watches that smirk that she's come to love make its way onto his face.
"Flattery won't get you very far in life, Riv." Except, maybe it will. Because somehow and for some reason she's here, and she's crying over him.
It's like he can read her mind, not the other way around, "I think it's gotten me pretty far as of right now. I mean, you're here." The look he gives her has her twitching in her seat and she has to remind herself that she still has more to say to him. She can't just let him off the hook that easily. He leans up to kiss her, and she places her hands on his chest, gently pushing him away.
 "I care."
"What?" He's confused by her words.
"I care. If you go, and something happens. I care." She feels the surprise bloom from within him, and then a sense of overwhelming tenderness takes up his mind, and hers along with it. Her hands reach for him, " Come here."
This time, he obeys her. And as she kisses him, he cracks for her. Splinters for her. Lets her see him while he kisses her as if he's kissing her for the first time ever, ravaged and hungry for her. She sees it all- all of him falling into her and consequentially falling into place in her mind, in her heart. His insecurities, his fears, and his wishes. She doesn't shy away from him, but kisses him harder. His thoughts are exactly what she thought they were from the very beginning- a natural disaster. But she doesn't fear falling into them anymore, and in fact she thinks she likes them. She thinks she likes the way his mind works- ten emotions at one time battling to win out over one another. And when he pulls away, she likes the way his green eyes look at her like she's the whole world and the way his hands hold her tight enough for her to know that he doesn't think she's fragile but with enough care that she feels like she is all that he owns.
"Don't you ever," he's panting as he moves to place kisses along her jaw and at her collarbone, above her shoulders, anywhere the collar of her shirt will allow him. "Don't you ever pull away from me again."
She knows he's referring to the other afternoon, when he had left for the mission and she had closed off. "Why? Did I hurt your fragile ego?"
She's teasing, he's not. His hands are in her shirt and moving up, up, up until the offending piece of clothing is off of her. He's eager to kiss down her body, hands roaming the planes and curves that he must have memorized by now. He's kissing, kissing, kissing. Kissing away her tears, kissing right above her beating heart, kissing along her waistline. Frantic, needy, and- 
Oh.
Oh. She thinks she's in love.
________________________________________________________________
The first time they slow down, she feels as though she has seen heaven.
Riven's lips on her lips, steady and firm yet gentle, as his hands lay splayed over her bare sides and his thumbs dig softly into the dips of her hipbones. One of her legs is tangled in the sheets around them and her other is hiked up above his hips, her heel digging into his spine. He moves inside of her, and when she feels her hips meet his, she slides her hands over his shoulders and lets her nails graze his back. He watches her below him, eyes asking if she's ok, she smiles at him and says, "Just… stay. Don't move for a bit."
And he does, closing the small space between them to catch her bottom lip between his teeth and pull on it before he continues with his love bites down her neck, behind her ears, onto her chest. He's making his way as far down as he can in their current position, and she's melting into him and fuck, she wants him to keep going. But she also wants him to slow down because she's on cloud nine right now and from up here she can see the stars in his eyes, can catch them between the kisses of his lips. Her hands move from his back, leaving behind what she can only assume is a mass of fresh red marks. They move to his chin as she drags him back up to meet her on that very cloud and then they're eye-level with one another once more. She feels the want form within him, she always does, but it’s an odd thing to actually see it emulated in his eyes. And there's something else there too, something she can't quite place and doesn't dare to assume of. When his lips brush hers for the umpteenth time, slowly shaping her name between them, she feels herself sink farther into him, a feat she had previously deemed impossible.
And her lips part in a whimper because oh good god, how had they never done this before? They were always so rushed, pulling at each other's clothes and stumbling into bed,  falling into one another in a tangled mess of limbs and lust. Perhaps it was the fact that they had kept it in for so long, refusing to admit they liked each other and once they were together, not wanting to tell others for fear of shattering whatever fragile state they were in. Their relationship had started with fighting fueled by longing, innuendos charged with so many suggestions, and eventually an aching want that Musa still couldn’t wrap her mind around. Really, she shouldn't be surprised at how touch hungry the two of them had been at the beginning of the relationship. (How touch hungry they still were.) But right here in this moment, as she opens her eyes, she regrets not slowing down and taking him all in sooner.
He is a sight to behold, with tiny and larger scrapes all over his body that somehow added to his physique instead of taking away from it. They are tens of thousands of stars and she traces them over and over, forming constellations with his imperfections. The pads of her fingers run over the features of his face, committing every bit of him to memory, and as they skim the tiny scar above his left eyebrow, the question slips from her lips before she can stop herself.
"When did you get this one?" 
He pulls away from her, just slightly so that he can see her face, and his eyes are darker than she's ever seen them as he lazily responds with a "Hmm?"
She's high on want and adrenaline, but she vaguely wonders if this is something he might not want to talk about. Too late to back out now. Plus, she'd like to know. "This scar. Above your eyebrow. How did you get it?"
Riven stiffens at her answer. She can feel his insecurity downing upon him, clouded by the desire and the want that still course through his body but slowly easing its way to the forefront of the battle that is his mind.
"I have them too," Musa whispers as she braces herself against his chest and heaves her body upward, brushing her lips against that very scar in question.
She moves back down again, and pulls her left arm slowly away from under him. She turns her head slightly to her left shoulder, using her index finger to point to a sliver of skin that's more taught and whiter than the rest of her. "I got this one when I was twelve. Tried to climb a tree that was too high off the ground. Had to get six stiches. My mom freaked out."
His eyeline follows her movements, and he stares at her shoulder for a few minutes. His gaze has her squirming a little, suddenly aware that she's naked in front of a boy she's very much into and that she has just pointed out one of the many flaws on her body. But then his eyes flicker upwards and he leans down and kisses her scar, just as she had kissed his.
"You're fucking perfect, you know that right?" She could cry.
"If you're trying to get in my pants, hate to break it to you, but they're already off," she teases, her voice soft and a smile on her lips. How else was she meant to respond?
He chuckles at her words, his laugh causing her to catch her breath as it does each and every time she hears it. It's an occasion that has become more common since they got together but which is still far and few in between. The sound vibrates off his body onto hers and has her writhing under him.
"Love, I would never consider your lack of garments a disappointment." He circles his hips above her, and she groans at the pressure. "And I would most certainly never forget being the one to take them off you, especially when you insist on making those noises."
Her eyes are blown wide as she grabs onto his forearm at the side of her head, where his fingers are buried in her hair. Her chest heaves up and down, up and down, heart beating so fast she's certain its rhythms are all in her mind and that it's no longer there. She's fairly sure she lost it somewhere between meeting him and getting here, to this moment.
He stops his teasing, opting instead to arch down once more and kiss the scar on her shoulder. He kisses it over and over until she feels her heartbeat slow down and her breath return to a somewhat normal pacing.
She tugs on his locks, silently motioning for him to come back up. Up he comes, and she's glad that she's somehow convinced him to continue denying her nothing. 
"Tell me."
He knows she's referring to his scar.
They're nose to nose, foreheads touching, brown eyes boring into green ones.
"About a year and a half ago. Right when things started to get messy in my life. Messier than usual, I mean. Back then I was a bit of a nerd, hung out in the greenhouse all the time-"
"Yeah, I've heard a few stories from Terra," she cuts him off, a smile playing on her lips at the idea of Riven hunched over a lab bench with pretty vines all around him.  It's a sight she hopes to one day see with her own two eyes, a side of him she knows she's so very close to opening up.
"Yeah, well, I'm sure you know how much of a dick I was after I started distancing myself from them. Sky, he got real mad one day. We were in Specialism class, learning some new sword tricks. I said some shitty things and then he tried to play the Saint Sky card. I got mad, I fought dirty. Scraped his arm with the sword. He finally snapped at me, landed a good blow right above my eyebrow." He laughed a bitter laugh at the memory. "Nearly missed my eye, the wanker. He apologized for two months straight. Either way, we both ended up in the infirmary and I figured I couldn't get rid of him. He kept me around and I stayed, almost like when we were children and we fought over dumb shit like who was the taller. Only difference now is that his scar healed and mine stayed."
That last sentence was loaded with so much, and Musa wanted to ask more but she didn't want to push her luck. She smiled at him, nudging his nose with hers. "So you used to fight over who was taller? The mental image of a baby Sky and baby Riven getting angry over something like that is almost, dare I say, adorable?"
He scoffs. "We were not adorable! We were two very manly twelve-year-olds with very some very manly, very reasonable arguments."
"Mmm," she hums against his skin. "Is that what you two have to this day? Manly arguments?"
"Are we really bringing Sky into the conversation while we're in bed?" She laughs, a full on laugh that comes from within her because his words were not what she had expected. "If you must know, now we argue over who’s got the hotter girlfriend."
His eyes are all mischief when she shakes her head at him. "Glad to see you two have really grown up."
"And I'm glad that I got the hotter girlfriend, because I'm not sure how else you've managed to keep me completely turned on while bringing up my best friend in the middle of us fucking."
And then it's her turn to tease him, turning her head slightly to the side so that she can catch his earlobe between her teeth and whisper in his ear. "I'll make it up to you."
And then she's flipping them over so that she's on top and she feels his breath catch. She smirks down at him mischievously and then they're off again, finishing what they started. She makes sure to go slow, to feel every bit of him as she moves, catch every angle of him below her and store it in her mind for safekeeping. 
And when it's over and he's lying on his stomach, back facing the ceiling, she moves herself on top of him once more. Only this time, she kisses every scar on his body, sometimes asking where and how he got them until he finally gets the hint and starts sharing their stories before she can even ask. There are so many of them, some tiny and some much more noticeable. All of them have stories. She vows to herself that she will one day know all of them. That she will be there to soothe the next scrape, the next trauma. With each one of her kisses, she can feel the natural disaster within him reach a rhythm, not quite silenced but at peace.
They don't sleep that night. Only once she's sure she's kissed every inch of his body does she finally worm her way back into his arms, but they're both wide awake at that point. His eyes watch her in the dark, hair loose and splayed around them like some sort of blanket. It had been in pigtails at one point in the night.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
"I…I just," words knot in his mouth. His eyebrows furrow at her in frustration as he tries to untangle and spell them out for her. "God, I love you."
Just for that, she kisses his body all over again. And again. And again.
________________________________________________________________
Their first times have been nothing short of unexpected. It's never how either of them imagined all these firsts would go. They're not soft and tender, though there are moments like that in-between, but neither had expected that. Their raging passions did not allow for it. But what they had expected was a lot more arguing, a lot more push and pull. Instead, they seemed to somehow fall right into each other- crash and burn style, no holding back.
Their firsts were painful lessons that needed to be learned. They were gnawing pains that needed to be had, throbbing emotions that had to be felt and delt with. They were stinging feelings, these firsts- stinging because they felt too much too soon and too fast and neither knew what to do with all of that expect for let it bubble until it exploded before them in an aching manner.
Their aching firsts.
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Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 3).
[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.
[Also, OMG I didn't think people would like these posts so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thaaaank you to all who gave the cutest hashtags, y'all are so encouraging!]
[Also, I'm sorry I just posted on R and Eponine today. :'(
Just have a lot on my mind. I'll write on JBM tomorrow, promise.]
Grantaire:
• He. Is. Not. Weak. Seriously, he could really do without those people who think he's a broken mess who loses absolutely every bit of self respect when he sees Enjolras. Just because Enj had shut him up with harsh words on like one occasion does not mean that he lets Enj or anyone walk all over him on a regular basis. He is NOT a doormat, not by a long shot.
• He could also REALLY do without those people with massive saviour complexes who swoop in to save him from the big, bad world. He accepts tons of help and love from the Amis, but will not accept any kind of pity service, damnit (and they know it). And it takes a lot of strength to plow through alcohol addiction to sobriety.
• He is pretty much a guardian angel in bars because of his history with addiction. He knows how much drink can a person take, and which drink they should avoid. With Bahorel, he hovers around the rest of them, snatching away glasses when the lightweights get too drunk, and replacing them with glasses of water. That he can box also comes handy. Sometimes. Heh.
• Not every point he says to oppose Enj is a cynical barb. And they don't always have screaming matches in the Musain. There have been many days of trading constructive criticism, because R has a lot of first-hand experience about the city. R usually knows the fine line between Enj getting combative and Enj getting hurt/frustrated, and has learnt not to say something so cynical that he crosses the line.
• Like everyone else, R is also learning. He is working on his prejudices, realises that some his past jokes were insensitive, sometimes even sexist or ableist, and actively corrects himself and others around him.
• Further, their relationship did not start with a dramatic makeout session mid-argument. Because both of them are on the way to being mature adults who know that aggressively displaying sexual tension is not the best way to start a relationship.
• It is not just Enj he's generally cynical to. He's cynical, that's it. And he does enjoy arguments with the others, where there's mutual exchange of knowledge, because he does not ever believe that the rest just parrot what Enj has to say. He has captured everyone's argument face in his sketchbook: Ferre waving his hands about, Courf's eyes widened mid-rant, Feuilly's eyes narrowed with a brief, brusque comment, Jehan's smiling like a cat who got the cream when their argument hits home, Bahorel thumping the desk in jovial agreement, Marius processing what he's hearing. He kinda likes Les Amis L'ABC too, not just the people there.
• While there are rough days when his self esteem runs sub-zero, there are days when he is super happy with himself. These are not exactly blink-and -miss either. The Amis cherishes his beaming smile when he defeats Ferre on Trivia Night, sings beautifully on Karaoke Night, paints an AMAZING picture of all the Amis in a protest and shows it off to all of them, cooks a meal which JBM raves about, and, on one memorable occasion, makes a V important point in a meeting that leaves Enj starry-eyed. There are things he hides from them because he's too shy and doubtful, but they are decreasing.
• There are days when he goes into a house-cleaning spree. Like the scrubbing tables-dusting-throwing out piles of trash-cleaning corners with q tips-kind of spree. Which leaves him so exhausted that he can't get out of bed the day after. So yeah, his place isn't always shabby.
Eponine:
• She is tough. She is blunt, and to the point. But she is not rude without reason, just to be edgy or something. And definitely doesn't throw around idle threats. Most of the Amis find her very pleasant, actually. She gives a small smile to everyone, cracks dry jokes, lobs scrunched-up balls of paper from across the room and fights with Courf for the caramel popcorn bucket. She doesn't yell to make a point, but speaks it aloud with a lazy drawl while fiddling with a rubber band ("Bull", she says, eloquently enough). To new people, she is just that shy and suspicious, so she doesn't really talk.
• The thing she wants the most is to feel safe. Hence she is often quiet, suspicious and moody. She feels really upset if people think she's horrible (or a "bitch", like she sometimes hears random people say about her) just because she cannot trust people enough to be all smiles and rainbows, even though she wants to be. She also feels really vulnerable, and is always scared that people wil leave her or hurt her once they know that she panics and cries a lot. She feels safe with the Amis, and many a times you'll find her as a sniffling burrito on someone's couch. THIS DOESN'T MEAN SHE'S WEAK, THIS MEANS SHE HAS A LOT OF SHIT GOING AND NEEDS RELEASE. -_-
• Her preference for dark clothes started because dark clothes seemed easier to maintain. She needed lesser amounts of detergent, and could stretch it out for longer before the inevitable laundry walk. She had actually asked Jehan for goth fashion tips to liven things up, and they had provided her optimal options (like dark lipstick). Still, she doesn't wear fishnets everyday, and just saves them for "special occasions".
• She is one of R's best friends. But no, she is not his personal babysitter. She doesn't go chasing everyone who she thinks has hurt him immediately, neither does she always haul him around when he's down in the dumps. She usually gives him sound advice, checks on him whenever she gets breaks between shifts, and if she cannot help, sends an Ami or two along.
• Her go-to way of showing disappointment in anyone is to send them a voice message stating exactly how they have fucked up (in an ice cold voice) and giving them the silent treatment until they fix things or apologize. Only once did she go nuclear on someone, no one wants to talk about it.
• Ep is a big sap. She does not really conceal her love of heart-shaped Valentine cards, pink roses and candles. Don't forget that she grew up in fair comfort tilll her preteen years, and she had exposure to much sappy media. While the Amis were surprised initially, she makes them take it in stride. She gets a strawberry cake every birthday, complete with pink balloons et al. (organised by Courf). She dreams of going to Disneyland.
• In the face of danger (men following her on the streets or something), her first response is flight, not fight. She knows that fighting can often make things worse, and cannot afford frequent trips to the ER. She can fight, though. She just doesn't want to until absolutely necessary, for self-preservation. She's brilliant at amateur first aid.
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thecassadilla · 3 years
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I’m asking for another because im greedy:
4. "Let's go home. You're freezing, and I don't want you catching a cold.”
Our 70s AU please!!!
Our 70s au, you say??? 👀 For those of you who don't know, Rhianne wrote a 70s fic a couple of months back (which you can find right here!!!) and ever since then, we've kinda, maybe had something pertaining to this era in the works? Maybe? 👀
Not greedy of you to ask for this at all, but I am super sorry for keeping you waiting for this one, Rhianne!!! But just know that I love you and I really hope you enjoy it!!!! 💕
Just as a warning, this has a kind of ambiguous ending for...reasons. Make of that what you will 😬
4. "Let's go home. You're freezing, and I don't want you catching a cold." Send me a prompt!
There were two things that Kristoff was thankful for that night. The first was that he’d made it to work before it started raining cats and dogs outside, and the second was that it was definitely going to be a lighter-than-usual Thursday night as a result of the terrible weather. The bar was filled with only a quarter of its usual patrons, and while he was bummed about missing out on more tips, he was looking forward to an easy night.
Of course, nothing ever went according to plan, and in between serving the customers sitting at the bar, he found himself trudging back and forth to mop up the entryway of the shabby restaurant every time another person walked in from outside. If Sven hadn’t been too busy flirting with one of the new waitresses, this wouldn’t have been a problem, but as per usual, it was Kristoff who was picking up his slack and trying to juggle everything.
“Sorry for the hold up,” Kristoff said, breathless as he tossed down a coaster and set a waiting man’s beer on top of it.
“Hey, it’s no problem. I can tell you’re the one running the show. I’m just glad I’m not out there tonight.” The man nodded his head towards the door.
Kristoff chuckled, instantly knowing that the man was referring to the weather. It was raining harder than he’d ever seen it rain before, and he, too, was glad that he had the option to stay exactly where he was. “You can say that again.”
“I feel sorry for any poor sucker who has to walk home through that,” the man said, shaking his head. “What time do you get out of here, boss?”
“Three,” Kristoff answered, picking up a glass and polishing it with the rag that always sat barside.
“Hopefully this’ll be over by the time you close up.”
“Yeah, I hope so.”
The bells hanging about the door jingled and Kristoff peered up from his work, only noticing that the person who had just walked inside was saturated from head to toe. He audibly groaned, not excited about having to mop up the entryway of the bar for the hundredth time that evening when suddenly the figure turned towards him.
His jaw dropped at the sight. “Anna?!”
In an instant, he managed to set down the glass, nearly knocking it over as he rushed around the corner of the bar and over to where she was standing. She was drenched; her hair clinging to her face, her makeup running down her cheeks, and her clothes dripping and creating a massive puddle on the floor as she stood there, unmoving.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the night at your folks’ place.”
“I was supposed to, but I had a fight with my father.” Anna looked up at him, and it was clear that the wetness in her eyes wasn’t a result of the weather outside. “I didn’t want to go back to my apartment, so I came here.”
“How did you get here?”
“I took the train,” she answered, before looking down at her sopping wet clothes. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her petite frame as a cool gust of wind blew through the gap in the door, causing the bells to jingle ever so slightly. “Then I walked.”
Kristoff wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see that she was unprepared for the late October weather, wearing only a pinafore style dress that fell to her knees over a thin turtleneck sweater with no jacket in sight. He made a mental note to start carrying around a jacket or some extra clothes in her size in his backpack so she wouldn’t freeze to death when the weather got really cold. Without thinking twice, he declared, "Let's go home. You're freezing, and I don't want you catching a cold.”
“But you’re working. You can’t just -”
“Sven can close up,” he insisted. “It’s been a slow night anyway, and he’ll appreciate the extra tips.”
“But -”
“No ‘buts.’ Let me just tell him I’m leaving, and then we can go, okay?”
Anna nodded, and he quickly ducked into the kitchen, informing Sven that he was leaving and grabbing his belongings before the other man could protest. Kristoff met Anna back by the door, draping his oversized jacket over her, and ensuring that he covered her head before he wrapped his arm around her and led her out of the bar before she could say anything.
“What are you doing?” Anna asked as soon as they were outside, raising her voice just enough so he could hear her over the pouring rain.
“Protecting you from the rain.” Kristoff squinted; the rain was falling so hard that it was difficult to see more than a foot in front of them. He knew exactly how to get home, having taken the same route everyday since he’d started working at the bar, but it was going to be a challenge to navigate the streets with so much water falling from the sky.
“But...I was already wet.”
“Well, now we’ll both be wet.”
He led her along the filthy New York street, the headlights of every car that passed them by reflecting off the rain and nearly blinding them until they finally made it to his shoddy basement apartment. As soon as they were protected from the elements by the staircase leading to the apartment above his, he dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, motioning for Anna to go inside. He followed right behind her, his shoes making an unholy squishing noise as he stepped onto the vinyl floor.
Anna shimmied the soaking wet jacket off of her and sheepishly held it out to him. “Thanks for letting me borrow this.”
“Of course,” Kristoff smiled, still struggling to catch his breath from the intensity of the walk. “Just...get out of your wet clothes and go right in the shower. I’ll leave some stuff on the counter for you to put on.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said, reaching up to brush away the hair that was clinging to his face. “I can go in after you.”
She nodded, dropping down to sit on the floor for a brief moment to pull off her knee-high boots before standing up and silently padding off towards the bathroom.
As soon as he heard the water turn on, Kristoff released a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. He hung the jacket on the hook by the door before proceeding to kick off his shoes and peel off his icy cold socks. He grimaced as each of his feet touched the cold, wet floor, very much looking forward to getting out of his wet clothes and into a set of warm, dry ones.
He wavered for a moment before deciding to strip off his wet clothes right there by the front door, dropping them in a pile to be dealt with later before marching towards his bedroom.
Two hot showers and an improvised clothes drying system via radiator later, and they were sitting on his bed in a comfortable silence, neither of them really knowing where or how to start.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kristoff offered gently.
Anna sighed. “It was the same as always - a set up. This time with his coworker’s son, some big shot lawyer who went to Harvard. When what’s-his-face finally left, he started lecturing me about how I’m ‘never going to find a husband to take care of me if I don’t clean up my act’ and how I should ‘do something with my life, go to college, and get my MRS degree.’ And before I left, he made sure to remind me that I’m a disgrace to our family and that I’ll never amount to anything.”
“Anna -”
“It’s whatever.” She rolled her eyes, and he could tell that she was trying her hardest to brush off her father’s harsh words, but he knew that every time she went to see her parents, it only ended with a blow to her self-esteem. She may have been the strongest person he’d ever known, but it seemed like her father knew how to get under her skin better than anyone else could. “Just a typical night with my parents.”
“I know,” Kristoff nodded, instantly reminded of how the one brief interaction that he’d had with Anna’s father hadn't blown over well for either of them. “That doesn’t make it okay, though.”
“I can handle the name calling, but I just wish they’d stop trying to set me up with guys I’ll never be interested in,” Anna muttered.
He opened his mouth to say something back but the words died in his throat. What wasn’t helping was that he knew Anna had made her parents aware of the fact that she was dating someone - they just chose to ignore it in favor of trying to set her up with someone who they deemed to be successful and affluent. There was a part of him that wanted to take the initiative and suggest that he be formally introduced to her parents so they would finally get off of her case, but there was also a certain degree of hesitancy there, knowing that he’d likely be remembered and would be instantly looked down upon due to the circumstances of their first meeting.
“Thank you for bringing me here, though,” she continued. “I really didn’t want to be alone tonight.”
“Of course,” he said softly, a feeling of warmth spreading over him as he looked down at her. He couldn’t help but smile at the way the stupid, too-tight-on-him ‘Keep on Truckin’’ t-shirt he’d leant her swamped her petite frame, or the way her lips were pouted, thoughts of what her father had said to her obviously still swirling in her head. “I love when you spend the night here.”
She giggled amusedly, peering up at him with a certain wildness in her eyes. “I’m glad you changed your mind about that, because I love spending the night here, too.”
He chuckled, the distinct memory of him throwing her clothes at her and telling her she had to leave the morning after the first night they ever spent together resurfacing in his head. “What can I say? I was an idiot. Still am, probably.”
“No,” she insisted in a sing-song voice, scooting closer to him. He moved his arm out of the way, and she rested her cheek on his chest and looked up at him, her bright blue eyes and the freckles dusted over her dainty upturned nose and cheeks causing his heart to skip a beat. “Not an idiot.”
He draped his arm over her back, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“Hmm,” Anna hummed, her lips quirking into a smirk. “I think so. But maybe you should say it again, just in case.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” Kristoff murmured, dropping his head down to press his lips to hers, softly at first but slowly intensifying as she shifted closer to him and knotted her hand in his still-damp hair.
Kristoff definitely had more than two things to be thankful for that night, and Anna was at the top of his list.
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