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imnotoverlyobsessive · 1 year

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Number Nine

Chapter Six: Echoes of You

AO3 author’s note/info one two three four five six seven eight epilogue extra

All my work is 18+.

You cut me up like a knife and hung me out here to dry. You’re the reason I can’t sleep through the night… I wanna forget, I remember how it was; even though you’re dead to me, you’re always showin’ up. You’re my poltergeist; demon in my head, keep me up at night. I feel you when the room gets cold as ice, sinking your teeth in a bruise. You got nothing to lose, you’re my poltergeist. Consume me, I’ll be your sacrifice.- Blackbear, Poltergeist

Three Years Later

At nearly three years old, Cassie looked nothing like her father. Her skin was darker than his, her hair straight. She had bright blue eyes framed by dark lashes, just like her mother.

Theo, on the other hand, looked exactly like Tim. At two and a half, Theodore Hal Blanchard appeared to not take after his mother hardly at all. He had his father’s bone structure, his unruly curls, even his eyes.

He was ridiculously intelligent and well-spoken for his age, too.

Tim provided Livvy with a downright ungodly amount of child support. It wasn’t even court-ordered; he just sent her the money every month. Lea assumed that this was because the bastard’s net worth seemed to double every year, bringing it up to its current state of $160 million. It was with the money he gave them that they paid the mortgage on their three bedroom house (Lea had managed to swing the master bedroom so Livvy and Cassie could have separate rooms). Her job as a theatrical costume designer at the local theater was going well, and she loved it. Her life wasn’t so bad, considering.

Tim came to visit Cassie regularly, but Lea was always sure to leave the house well before he got there. He was consistent in giving them a few days’ notice, and she used this to her advantage.

Livvy occasionally tried to convince her to stay and talk to him, insisting that it must have been a misunderstanding. Lea didn’t see how it could be, though. He’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in being part of Theo’s life, and if she were honest with herself, she liked it that way.

Why would she want to reconnect with the man who broke her heart? Why would she want Theo to find out his father didn’t want him? There was simply no up side.

It was fine. It was for the best. It was fine.

Cassie’s third birthday party was that afternoon, and Lea was looking forward to it. She always looked forward to having over her mother and sisters as well as her other best friend, Sam. Plus, Theo and Cassie got to see their friends from daycare. Tim hadn’t been able to be there for Cassie’s birthday the day of the previous two years, instead coming to see her a few days later. When he hadn’t contacted Livvy about his plans for their daughter’s birthday, both she and Lea had deduced that things would be the same as the previous years.

Lea was showered, her makeup carefully applied. Her outfit was nothing special: a nude bra from Torrid, pale pink panties she’d gotten in a discount bin at Target, a white patterned Artizia dress she’d splurged on the previous year, the soft fabric reaching her calves. She wore flat white sandals from Nine West that wouldn’t be too difficult to chase Theo in and studs from Icing in the same color as the pendant on the necklace Tim had given her. She wore that, too. She usually wore it, wanting to keep a piece of him close to her in some way.

Lea fluffed her hair in her bedroom mirror, adjusting the tied straps of her dress.

“You look pretty, Mama,” Theo said happily.

“Thank you, baby,” she told him, ruffling his hair and holding out her hand for him to take. “Are you ready for Sissy’s party?”

“Yes!” he squealed with delight.

Lea smiled down at her son, leading him out the door.

It was going to be a good day.

The first time Timothée saw her again, he half-thought she was a ghost.

He’d never been able to be there the day of Cassie’s birthday before, so he was thrilled that his schedule finally allowed for it. Since Olivia was forever teasing him about his inability to show up for his daughter's actual birthday, he thought he’d surprise the two of them. Maybe he’d actually get to meet Olivia’s roommate.

It was clear that the little girl’s birthday party was going on at the one story house, because there was a princess carriage bounce house in the yard. No kids were out front, though, so he knocked on the door, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets, fiddling with the velvet ring box he carried with him out of habit.

There was music and children's laughter coming from inside, and he was just about to knock a second time when someone shouted, “It’s open!”

So he went inside, letting the door shut behind him, and turned to the dining room directly to his right where most of the chatter was coming from.

And there she was.

She was wearing a white dress that fell well past her knees, leaning forward and instructing Cassie how to blow out the candles once they were lit. Her hair was longer than it had been before, past her waist now, and her back was to him, but that didn’t matter. He’d know her ass anywhere.

It had been so long, but even now, even after over three years of not having her, the second he saw her pale skin, his fingers itched to touch it.

Timothée couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because he’d been yearning for her for so long, it felt like, and there she was, right in front of him. Then, to his astonishment, a small child emerged from the group of similarly aged children and tugged on her dress.

“Mama!” the child said. “Mama!”

Mama? he thought in a daze. She has a kid? Is she married? He considered this for a moment, but quickly decided that it didn’t matter if she was married or not, if she was with anyone or not. She was his and that was that.

“Okay, okay,” she said with an exasperated-sounding chuckle, leaning down to pick the child up.

Before she’d stood all the way up, however, Cassie took notice of him. “Daddy!” his daughter exclaimed in delight.

Lea didn’t turn around, only leaning forward to brush Cassie’s hair from her face. “Not yet, Cas,” she told her patiently. “Daddy will be here in a few days, remember?”

Cassie shook her head, pointing over where Tim stood, and all the children and adults at the table turned towards where Timothée stood by the door. All except Lea. “Daddy’s here!”

“Hey birthday girl,” he greeted, and he knew the second Lea had fully registered his presence, because the muscles of her back tensed up, her spine ramrod straight.

Lea reached over, patted Cassie’s head swiftly, then grabbed a purse that was hanging on a hook by the archway leading to the kitchen.

“Where are we going, Mama?” asked the child—Timothée was fairly certain it was a boy—Lea held.

“Grandma’s house,” Lea informed him as she moved into the kitchen. Her voice was quiet, but he could still hear it under the chatter in the room.

“But Grandma’s here,” the boy pointed out.

Lea said something in response, but he couldn’t quite hear it.

He greeted Olivia, smiling politely at her. They weren’t together for very long, but she knew him pretty well. She knew about the divorce and that the flings he’d had since Lea had left were to make up for her absence.

“Hi, sweetie,” he told Cassie, giving her a hug and the present he’d brought with him from the car before standing back up. “Liv,” he addressed softly, “is that— is it really—“

“Yes,” Olivia confirmed with a nod.

“Why didn’t you—“

“She wouldn’t let me. Go talk to her. I’ll handle the party; give me a few minutes and I’ll come get Theo, too.”

“Theo?” Timothée asked, glancing at Lea’s retreating firm. “Is that her—“

Olivia fixed him with a look. “Talk. To. Her. If she gets to her car, I’m telling you right now: she’s not coming back. Go.”

He moved around the table, watching Lea hurry towards what he knew was a back door, and he stepped through the threshold into the kitchen.

“Lea?” he asked hesitantly, and the child—Theo, he assumed—turned to look at him over Lea’s shoulder.

It took a few seconds for him to recognize his own eyes staring back at him.

Theo was babbling at her even as she’d opened the door and rushed outside, but she’d tuned him out. She had to. She was still reeling from hearing the man she’d gotten remotely close to getting over say her name. He’d sounded hopeful, even, like he wanted it to be her. She was fairly certain that she’d confirmed her identity for him just by ignoring him and exiting the house without so much as turning around, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t handle seeing him.

She’d had a contingency plan in place in the event Tim showed up unannounced, one she hadn’t told Livvy about.

She trusted her friend not to spill the beans to their mutual ex right up to this particular moment. After that point, however, Livvy was a wild card. She was too far in the camp of “Tim would absolutely want Theo if you just gave him a chance!”, completely disregarding three very important facts.

First, that she had already given him a chance three years and one month ago. Second, that Livvy shipped Lea and Tim just a little too hard to be taken entirely seriously. Third, but perhaps most significantly, Tim had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with Lea or her pregnancy, which included Theo by extension. Fourth, the truth was, Lea didn’t want Tim in their lives any more than he seemed to want to be there. In fact, she probably wanted to see him even less than he wanted to see her.

Oh, sure, he’d be polite and say hi and all that garbage, but she knew it was just pleasantries. He was too good of a person to refuse interacting with someone if they were right in front of him.

She wasn’t above that sort of refusal, though.

Which was why she knew that the Super 8 motel nearby would give her a room for eighty bucks or less, and that she could pay in cash, and if she slipped the clerk at the front desk an extra twenty, he wouldn’t ask for her ID. It was why she carried cash in the first place. It was why she kept a few essentials for both her and Theo in her car. It was why she was parked around the corner of the house instead of in front, so there would be less of a walk for her once she got out the side door.

She knew what she was doing, and she knew how essential it was—for Tim, for Theo, and most especially for her—that he not get the chance to say hello to her. Knowing Tim, he might do something catastrophic, like suggest they hang out or catch up or something. Either way, his politeness didn’t bode well for anyone involved, and Lea really, really didn’t want to turn Cassie’s third birthday—the first one she might actually remember—into a verbal bloodbath, which it was likely going to become if she didn’t get out of there, and fast.

She was starting towards her car, ignoring the way the grass got between the soles of her feet and the sandals she wore. She didn’t have time to worry about that now. In a few seconds, she’d be in her car and—

And then the back door opened. It seemed Tim had deigned it necessary to follow after her, because she walked faster, and he called out, “Lea!”

Lea was actually pretty good at running while holding Theo, all things considered, but not in sandals. Unfortunately, this combined with his infuriatingly long legs meant that he caught up to her with relative ease, and she was only a few yards away from her car by the time he captured her wrist in his hand.

“Lea,” came Tim’s firm voice, and she could’ve sworn it sent her back in time. Back to sharing his breaths and touching his skin and feeling him between her legs, where he belonged, where she belonged. Back to his arms around her and his fingers in her hair and his skin against her lips and her back pressed against the wall of the dressing room of some high end retailer or another as he fucked her so hard she could barely stand afterwards, the way he said her name when he first slid into her, I love you I love you I love you I love you—

She tried to jerk her wrist out of his grip, but he held fast. “Who’s that, mama?” Theo asked cheerfully.

She was about to turn around and kick the bastard in the shin when the back door opened a third time, and Lea used Tim’s surprise to wrench herself free and start marching towards her car again.

Tragically, Livvy had run track. And she was wearing sneakers. As a result, she was in front of Lea fast enough to make her head spin.

Lea stared at her friend with wide, terrified eyes, pleading with her silently to get Tim to go away, just get him to leave, for the love of god, she didn’t even care where he went as long as she never had to see him again, speak to him again.

Instead of answering Lea’s pleading gaze, however, Livvy held out her arms to Theo. “C’mon, buddy. Let’s get you some cake and ice cream. You don’t wanna miss Sissy’s party, right?”

“And then bounce?” Theo asked excitedly.

“Of course!” Livvy assured him, and he lunged for her. Livvy took him, and then Theo was staring back at Lea happily, a smile on his chubby face. Livvy covered his ears, looking over Lea’s shoulder.

So he hasn’t disappeared into thin air, then, Lea thought mournfully.

“Quit trying to run,” Livvy told her firmly. “I’ll watch Theo for however long you need, just— just talk to him, for fuck’s sake.”

Theo looked a bit confused, but it was far from the first time adults had covered his ears while they spoke.

Maybe Lea could follow after her vile traitorous excuse for a friend. They had cried over this man together, dammit. They’d spent hours sobbing in each other’s arms until their throats were sore and their eyelids were raw, and this was how Livvy treated their kinship?

Still, though, following after her was infinitely better than being left alone with the absolute last person on the face of the earth she wanted to have a conversation with, let alone a private conversation. Maybe he wouldn’t bother her as much if she was in the house around a bunch of kids.

So as soon as Livvy started back towards the door, Lea was heading after her, fully intending to walk in a very large circle around Tim so she wouldn’t have to look at him—if she played this right, she could get through this without ever having to look at him—which was an absolute necessity due to the fact that she simply could not handle seeing him. Not in person. She’d heard his voice, he’d touched her skin, and that was more than enough, thank you very fucking much. She could handle seeing him on a screen, whether it was large or small, but she couldn’t handle seeing him in the flesh.

She didn’t get very far in her attempts to follow Livvy and a chattering Theo, because Tim had grabbed her hand this time, and his grip was firm and steady and familiar and warm and—

No, she told herself firmly. Nope. Not that. We’re not doing that. We are past that.

“Lea,” he said softly. “Look at me. Please.”

She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes, and she realized for the first time that she was crying. When had that started? She wasn’t sure. Whatever, it didn’t matter.

“Lea,” he repeated, sounding frustrated. “Turn around.”

“No,” she finally snapped, yanking on her hand to try and get free. “Let go! Don’t touch me!”

“It is you,” Tim breathed. “I wasn’t sure I hadn’t lost my mind until I heard your voice, I—“ he cut himself off. “Turn around.”

She didn’t, turning her face to the ground and letting her hair fall around her in a protective curtain.

She heard the crunch of grass under his feet as he circled around her until she saw his sneakers directly in front of her. She clenched her eyes shut, hoping against hope that he would just go away, but he still hadn’t released her hand.

“Look at me,” he pleaded, and she shook her head again. He sighed, then reached down to lift her chin up, his grip gentle but firm, and then she had no choice but to look at him, and he was smiling softly down at her. “Lea,” he breathed, sounding… relieved, almost.

The memories came rushing back like a flood— when he’d first said her name, their first kiss, and god, their last, the way he’d touched her when she’d told him she loved him, the way he thrust inside her when he said it back, oh, god, Tim—

She was paralyzed by the emotions and the memories and the overwhelmingly desperate yearning that another tear slid down her cheek, and Tim frowned, moving to wipe the tear away, but she lurched back from him like he’d burn her, which she half-thought he might.

His frown deepened as she backed away from him fearfully. From his expression and behavior, she was starting to wonder if Livvy had been right, if everything really was a misunderstanding, but the truth was, she didn’t really care. She really, really didn’t want anything to do with him. He shattered her once. He’d do it again, and he’d do it with the casual smile of someone who absolutely did not understand what they were doing.

Watching him look down at her, an expression of genuine offense on his face, her mind was essentially split into two camps: one was screaming a litany of, I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you— whereas the other was an equally loud, Get away get away get away get away get away get away—

He looked deflated, like he hadn’t known how very clear she’d made it that she only wanted to put as much distance between the two of them as physically possible. “Who’s, uh.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Who’s Theo?”

Lea crossed her arms over herself, taking another few steps back. “My son,” she informed Tim’s feet.

“Your son,” he parroted back at her. She nodded wordlessly. “And how old is he, exactly?”

Lea scratched her arm. “Two.”

“When’s his birthday?”

She was silent for several seconds. “January.”

She felt his gaze on her. “He has my eyes,” Tim pointed out. “And my hair. And my bone structure, it looked like.”

Lea scoffed. “I have a type. So what?”

“He literally has my face, and you’re going to try and tell me he isn’t mine?” Tim hissed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry you don’t get to add to your count of fifteen bazillion kids,” she said sarcastically.

“I have two,” he snapped, holding up two fingers, then cocked his head slightly, considering. “Well, three, apparently.”

“Ugh,” she groaned in frustration. “He could be anyone’s. Just ‘cause you were my first doesn’t mean you were special.”

“I was to you,” he insisted. “You loved me, and I loved you.”

Lea rolled her eyes so hard she wondered if she’d actually damage them. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Can I go now?”

“No!” he snapped. “No, you can’t go now. Tell me if he’s mine or not. I know you, and you’re being evasive. Tell me the truth.”

Something inside of her snapped, and she finally looked up at him. “I did, jackass!” she hissed. “I did tell you the truth! I told you the truth three years ago, and you didn’t want any part of it, so you don’t get to storm in and make demands.” She deflated, panting. “Just go away.”

“No,” Tim repeated, much to her dismay. “I’m not going away. Not ever again.” He examined her face. “And when did you tell me?” he demanded. “You never told me—“

She watched his expression change as he remembered something— the voicemail she’d left him, presumably. He was gaping at her, and she nodded smugly at him. “Uh huh. Yeah, now you remember.” She scoffed. “Well, too bad, so sad. I don’t care. I didn’t want to tell you anything, but I did. I gave you a chance to be in Theo’s life if you wanted to, and you said no. I don’t want child support, I don’t want you here, I don’t want anything to do with you. Just leave me be.”

“I didn’t know it was you!” He raised his voice. He never raised his voice. She forced her surprise down, however, putting on a thoroughly unimpressed air. “I thought someone had found my number somehow. I didn’t know it was you,” he was babbling. Then, he saw the expression on her face. “No, really!” he insisted. “It came from a number I didn’t recognize, your voice sounded different, you didn’t tell me your name— how was I supposed to know it was you?”

Lea groaned, raking a hand through her curls to push them away from her face. He stared at her, seemingly just as mesmerized by her as she was trying so very hard not to be by him. “I don’t care,” she informed him flatly. “I don’t care that you didn’t know. I don’t care that you wouldn’t have told me not to contact you again if you had known it was me. I. Don’t. Care. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want your time and I definitely don’t want your money. Go away.”

This made Tim snort lightly, and he lifted his chin in the direction of the house she shared with Livvy. “So this is paid for entirely with you and Olivia’s salaries, huh?”

Lea bristled. “It was less than $210,000, Tim.”

“Right, yeah,” he nodded agreeably. “And how much of that are you having to pay off?”

She pursed her lips at him. “I don’t know exactly.”

“Uh huh.” He smirked, and she knew from his expression that before he’d even mentioned the house, he’d been fully cognizant of the fact that thanks to the money she and Livvy had saved up (most of it from the downright appalling sum of money he sent every month), they had put half of the total cost of the house as a down payment, which meant that they split the mortgage, each covering just over four hundred a month.

So their lives were a bit easier because of the money he gave Livvy. Big deal. It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

That’s what she’d spent the last thirty-seven months telling herself. He didn’t matter. He was irrelevant.

Tim was looking at her still, and she fidgeted nervously under his gaze. “I divorced Crystal,” he told her finally.

Lea stared at him. “Congratulations,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He didn’t look away from her, just took a step closer. She took one back, and he sighed. “I’m not… I’m not with anyone right now, either.”

Lea snorted, finding that very hard to believe. “Did your harem up and leave? How sad for you.”

He shook his head, taking another step towards her. She took two back, and his lips set into a firm line. “No,” he said softly, “I told the other girls that there was someone I wanted that I had lost, and I wanted her more than I wanted anyone else.”

Tears filled her eyes again, and she shook her head firmly, backing away further. “No,” she insisted. “Nope. Not… not listening to this. I’m not.”

“Lea,” he breathed, sounding very miserable indeed, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted. I never wanted to leave you alone when you were pregnant. If I had known…” he trailed off, watching her cover her face with her hands so he wouldn’t see her crying. “If I had known, I would’ve been there.”

“I didn’t want you there,” Lea snapped through her tears. “I don’t want you here now, either.”

“I know,” he told her gently, placatingly, “but I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Never again. I never forgot you, y’know.” He reached out to brush his fingertips against the pendant she wore. “I’m glad you didn’t forget me, either.”

As soon as she felt the necklace shift under his touch, however, her hands fell from her face and she backed away further, until she was standing against the side of the house. Tim followed after her, his steps slow, almost hesitant.

She was shaking her head emphatically at him, but still, he kept speaking. “I could get a lawyer and take you to court,” he pointed out. “I could have a judge order a paternity test so I could sue for custody to see my son, but I don’t want to do that.”

“You’re not taking him from me,” she growled, glaring fiercely up at him as he came to a stop in front of her.

“That’s not what I want,” Tim told her again.

She was terrified—petrified, really—to ask, but she had to. “What do you want?”

Her palms were flat against the bricks of the house, and he reached out to take one of her hands in his. She knew what he was up to, though, and hastily shoved her hands behind her back. With him so close, she felt that tingling she knew so well between her thighs, but she steadfastly ignored it.

Tim sighed in frustration, leaning one shoulder against the wall. “You,” he murmured, looking down at her with hooded eyes. “I’ve always wanted you. I can’t let you go again.”

The bastard was damned and determined to rip her to shreds all over again, wasn’t he?

“I’m not getting back with you,” she snapped. “I’m not subjecting Theo to whatever… disgusting lifestyle you have in mind. I’m not doing it.”

“I don’t think you’re picturing what I’m picturing, sweetheart,” he told her. “Besides, you really think I’m letting you get away from me a second time?” Tim asked incredulously. “You are mine. I am never, never, letting you go. If you try to disappear on me again, I’ll find you. I’ve found you and I’m not giving you up again. Start thinking about what kind of dress you wanna wear, because I’m not letting you refuse me.”

“Are you crazy?” Lea demanded, continuing to disregard the desire pooling in her stomach, in her panties. “While you’re still fucking other girls? You’re— you’re married, for fuck’s sake!”

He shook his head, grinning down at her. “One, no, I’m divorced, remember? And two, if I wasn’t, you’d still let me have you and we both know it. Three, if you do try to get away from me, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. I spent three years aching for you, and I’m not spending another fucking second without you next to me. I won’t do it. You’re mine, you’ve always been mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I am not—“

He leaned closer, cutting her off before she’d even finished her sentence. “If I told you to get on your knees and let me fuck your mouth right here and now, you would. If I told you to get in my car and let me take you somewhere I can remind you who owns you, you would. You wouldn’t even question it. Don’t try and tell me otherwise. We both know it would be a lie.”

He fished around in his pocket, pulling a small ring box out. “What the hell is that?” Lea demanded shrilly.

He opened the box, pulled a ring out, snapped the box shut again, and shoved it back in his pocket. “Y’know,” he began quietly, “I told myself, ‘if I ever find Lea again, I’m going to give her a ring that shows her how much she means to me. How much I love her.’” He looked up at her, smiling softly as his gaze fixed upon her left hand. “I thought for awhile that nothing could possibly be good enough.” He took her shaking hand in his, holding it gently, and slid the ring on her finger.

It was silver, covered in diamonds, and had a large stone the same shade of cornflower blue as the necklace.

She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of it before, but she remembered what he’d said when he’d given it to her, that Zendaya had pulled some strings; a half-forgotten ad in a fashion magazine with Zendaya wearing what looked suspiciously like—

She didn’t know why it had never occurred to her that the large blue stone might be a sapphire. She truly had no idea. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to consider it.

He was watching her face, observing the expressions that crossed over it with rapt attention.

“What is this, Tim?” she breathed, staring at the ring with some strange mix of shock, awe, and horror, reaching up to touch the sapphire.

A sapphire the size of her thumb, what the fuck—

“It’s called the Serpenti Ocean Treasure necklace,” he informed her. “And this—“ he brushed his thumb over the ring he’d slid onto her finger— “is the matching ring.”

“I don’t understand,” she breathed shakily. “I— I don’t understand.”

“We’re getting married,” he informed her simply.

“No,” Lea said immediately. “No, we’re not. You can’t make me.”

“I could,” he corrected casually, “but I won’t have to. You’re mine. I’ll bet you haven’t even fucked anyone else, have you?”

She winced, looking away from him. It was true—why bother with anyone else? No one could compare to him, and she wasn’t exactly eager to bother with men a second time around—, but she hadn’t intended to tell him that.

He caged her in against the wall of the house. “You’re mine,” he repeated. “I don’t care if you’ve forgotten. You’re still mine, and I’ll take great pleasure in reminding you of that fact.”

The worst part of all this was, in Lea’s opinion, the fact that Tim knew her so goddamn well, even after all this time, because this meant that whatever he said about her thoughts and feelings was almost certainly true.

Which was why she was so irritated when he said, “I’ll bet you’re wet for me right now, thinking about how good I can give it to you.” She shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing her thighs together without thinking about it. He noticed, though. “God, you are, aren’t you? All you have to do is ask, angel. You know I’d give you anything you wanted.”

“All I want,” Lea began shakily, “is for you to leave me and my son alone.”

“First of all,” he started, “he’s my son, too. And second, that’s unfortunate, because that’s the only thing I’m not willing to give you.” She scoffed, looking off to the side. They were in the shadow of the house, the sunlight shining brightly around them. “But I don’t think you want that. Not really.”

She didn’t. She could admit that to herself, in her own mind. But she wasn’t about to say it out loud. She might want to give into him, but she knew—she knew—what being with him would do to her, and she couldn’t afford to go through it again. “He’s barely your son,” she informed him. “You were there for his conception and, like, a month of the pregnancy and that’s it.”

“You mean I was with you for a whole month while you were pregnant,” he began slowly, “and I didn’t even get to enjoy it properly?”

Lea rolled her eyes. “Boo hoo,” she whined mockingly, “poor Timmy, didn’t get to see one of his fifteen thousand girlfriends pregnant. Cry me a goddamn river.”

“Okay,” he decided with a frown, “let me explain something to you, because I don’t think you fully understand.” She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, and he continued. “I don’t have any girlfriends. Once you left me, I realized I couldn’t see anyone else romantically. Not at all. I wanted you and no one else.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t—“

“Oh, I’ve slept with other people since you, yeah,” he confirmed, “but I think of you the entire time. Every single time I’m with someone, I close my eyes and pretend she’s you.”

Lea shook her head firmly, but he cupped her cheek to hold her steady.

“I never stopped loving you, Lea,” he told her quietly as she looked up at him with wide eyes, “and now that I’ve found you again, I’m not letting you go. Not even if you want me to. I’m sorry. I love you too much to let you leave me again.”

Her lips parted, and Tim’s eyes flitted down to them. “I can’t,” she breathed, her tone almost apologetic. “I can’t watch you with other girls again. I can’t do it. It almost killed me last time.”

He smiled softly at her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “So as long as I promise never to touch another woman outside of work, you’ll say yes?”

Lea shook her head, clenching her eyes shut. “No,” she told him. “Not even then. I’m sorry.”

He stepped back. “Why?” She opened her eyes, and he looked frustrated. Angry, even. “Why not? You still love me, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. So why?”

She sighed, crossing an arm over herself to cup her elbow and lowering her gaze to his feet. “I believe that you would try,” she admitted. “I think you really would try to stick with just me.” Then the tears started again, and she wiped them away. “But you wouldn’t be able to for very long, Tim,” she sniffled. “I know you, and I know you’d really give it your best, but then you’ll be faced with the prospect of going back to your hotel room alone again, and you’ll give in because that’s how you are.” He started to interrupt her, but she rushed on. “And because you’re such an unfailingly good person, you’d come back home to me and Theo and tell me immediately, because I know you’d want to be honest with me, and I’d just—“ she cut herself off on a sob. “I’d fall apart. You'd rip me to shreds, and I have a kid now. I can’t afford to let you do that to me again.” A deep, shuddering breath. “The worst thing is, a concerningly large part of me wants to say yes, to follow you anywhere the way we used to talk about, but I can’t. I don’t get to have that. It’s not in the cards for me.”

Tim was silent for a few moments, listening to her soft sniffles. “Then get new cards.”

She blinked tearfully at him. “Wh— what?”

Stepping towards her again, he repeated, “Get new cards.” She stared at him in disbelief, so he took her hands in his, rubbing the sapphire in her ring with his thumb. “You’re worried about who I’m with? That’s fine. Come with me. You can come with me everywhere I go. You want me to take a few years off work so I can spend them with you and Theo, I will. You want me to come forward about being with you, I will.”

More tears slid down her cheeks, and when he reached up to brush them away, she closed her eyes, trying not to lean into his touch. “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she breathed. “I don’t want you to put doing what you love on hold, and I know you value your privacy.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but I value you more.”

His hand was on her waist, his breath was on her lips, and she realized that she was going to give into him. He wanted her, maybe even loved her in his own way, and she was going to let him make her his again.

Lea had just started to lift her chin, a sure sign that yes, she wanted this, she wanted this desperately, but then the door opened, and she was promptly brought back to her senses.

Her head whipped around, and she immediately recognized the long skirts of her mother, Rosalie, who stepped out onto the concrete, Theo on her hip.

Rosalie only required one look at the pair of them for her to deduce what was happening. Before she could make any sort of remark, however, Theo asked brightly, “What’re you doing, Mama?”

Lea swallowed, and Tim stepped back from her. “Hey, sweetie,” she addressed her son shakily, holding her arms out for him.

He went to her happily, immediately nestling against her. Rosalie’s gaze was fixed on Tim, however. “Lea,” she began without taking her eyes off him, “I don’t believe you’ve introduced me to our guest.”

She recognized it immediately when he switched into charm mode, because he cranked it all the way up. “Hi,” he exclaimed with a wide smile. “I’m Timothée. It’s so nice to meet you.” Instead of shaking her proffered hand, he took it in both of his. Rosalie pursed her lips, but Lea knew her mother well enough to recognize the smile she was fighting. “I’m an old friend of your daughter’s,” he explained.

Despite being nearly a foot shorter than he was, Rosalie still managed to look down her nose at him. “I have three daughters,” she pointed out. “Which one are you referring to?”

“Lea,” he said with a good-natured laugh. “I spoke with Lina briefly a few years ago, but I’m afraid I haven’t had the chance to meet Ari yet.”

Rosalie smiled a bit at that, clearly appreciating that he paid attention to Lea when she talked about her family. She must’ve known the second she saw Tim, but still, she took a moment to look between him and Theo before addressing Lea directly. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Tim winced slightly.

Lea said nothing.

Rosalie nodded before turning back around. “Well,” she sighed, “if you want any cake, you’d better get inside before it’s gone.”

“Give me a few minutes with Theo here,” Lea said. “Tim, go spend some time with Cassie. She’s been asking for you all day.”

Rosalie turned back around. “Why would Cassie be asking for him?”

Lea glared at her mother wordlessly, motioning for Tim to follow her inside.

“You’re Cassie’s father, too, I take it?”

Lea watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Um. Yes ma’am.”

Rosalie pursed her lips again, but didn’t voice her opinion. Lea was most grateful for this.

She stared after them as the door shut. Now for the daunting task of explaining to her two and a half year old that the man he’d just met was his father.

Joy.

Theo had handled it remarkably well. He was all excitement and bubbly energy, eager to get to know his daddy.

He’d marched right up to where Tim was standing in front of where Cassie sat, waiting patiently for her candles to be lit so she could eat her cake. Theo put his hands on his hips, looking very much like his mother, grandmother, and even his aunts, looked Tim in the eye, and demanded, “Are you my daddy?”

All chatter at the party stopped, save for the children who were too young to understand. Tim knelt down, getting on Theo’s level, and said, “Hello, Theo. It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Timothée.” Lea watched as Tim’s shoulders tensed in anticipation for their son’s reaction. “And yeah, I’m your daddy.”

Theo stared at his father for a few seconds before throwing his arms around him. “What took you so long?” he asked into Tim’s neck.

Tim’s arms circled around him, holding the little boy close. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m here now.”

“You’re gonna stay?” Theo asked tearfully.

“Yeah,” Tim told him softly, lifting his gaze to meet Lea’s. “I’m not going anywhere.” He stood, holding Theo for the first time, and Lea looked away, tears in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if they were from joy, sorrow, or some fucked up blend of the two. Taking a deep breath, Tim addressed the room. “Um… hi, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Timothée.”

He was met with wordless stares.

Gulping, he went on, “I just found out that Theo is my son, which is very exciting.” He paused. More silence. “And I’m also thrilled to announce that now that I’ve found the love of my life again, we’re engaged.”

Lea forced out an awkward, nervous laugh. “He’s joking,” she assured the gawking crowd of guests. “He’s not Theo’s father, and we are absolutely not engaged. It’s a misunderstanding.”

“What’s endaged?” Theo asked cheerfully.

“It’s when someone is gonna marry someone else,” Tim informed him with a smile.

“You’re gonna be married?” the little boy clarified, his eyes wide.

“I am.”

“Who?” Theo demanded.

Tim gestured to Lea.

“Mama?!” their son exclaimed.

“No, honey,” Lea interrupted gently, even as Tim nodded. “He’s being silly.”

Theo’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re not marrying Daddy?”

At this point, Lea’s sisters appeared to have heard enough. All the Blanchard women had a tendency to be fiercely protective of each other. It was therefore no surprise whatsoever that both her quiet older sister, Lina, as well as her carefree younger sister, Ari, stepped forward to examine the interaction between father and son, their eyes narrowed suspiciously in a way resembling Lea—even Rosalie—so closely that Timothée was downright astonished at how similar their mannerisms were.

Ari opened her mouth to say something, but Livvy spoke first. “Okay,” she said cheerfully, “everybody outside! Cake and presents in a bit!”

“But why?” Cassie whined.

“Because you want to play in the princess carriage,” Livvy informed her daughter helpfully.

“I want to play after I have cake,” Cassie corrected.

“All your friends want to play in the princess carriage,” her mother said, leading her outside by the hand. The other parents took the hint, leading their grumbling children out the door until Lea and found herself alone with Tim, who was still holding their son.

He looked like he was about to cry. “Why won’t you marry daddy?” he asked, his lower lip wobbling pitifully.

“Daddy used to be my… special friend,” she said delicately.

Tim snorted.

She glared at him.

“Are you special friends now?”

Lea moved into the living room, collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. Tim followed her, watching her expression closely. “No, baby,” she told him softly. “No, we’re not.”

Theo considered this. “Why not?”

“I don’t think your mama wants to be special friends with Daddy anymore,” Tim explained, sitting down across from Lea.

Their son frowned outright now. “Why not?” he repeated. “Did you used to kiss like other mommies and daddies?”

Lea winced, but Tim answered on her behalf. “We did.”

“The daddies at school tell the mommies they love them,” Theo pointed out. “Do you tell Mama you love her?

“I haven’t seen your mama in a long time,” he said slowly, “but yes, I told her before you were born, and I told her when I saw her again.”

Theo crossed his arms, pouting at his mother. “Then why won’t you marry Daddy?”

Tim answered for her again. “She doesn’t believe me.”

“Would you lie to Mama?” Theo demanded, angry on his mother’s behalf.

“No,” his father said simply, fixing his gaze on Lea. “I’d never lie to her. It’s okay that she doesn’t believe me, though. I’ll tell her I love her until she does. She’s going to marry me anyway.”

“You’re delusional,” she snapped.

Her tone made Theo decide to jump down from Tim’s lap and run over to her, clutching the skirt of her dress. “Mama,” he started, but then the front door opened.

Livvy came in, carrying a duffel bag Lea knew all too well. She shoved it into Lea’s arms, grabbing her keys and wallet from her purse. “Here,” her traitorous friend panted, “it’s your stupid escape bag.”

“How did you—“

“I’m your best friend and roommate,” she snapped impatiently. “Theo, cover your ears.” He did so obediently, looking on with wide eyes. “This man,” Livvy started, pointing her finger at Tim, “has been in love with you for a very long time. He bought that ridiculous ring before you were even in the third trimester, and if you don’t spend some goddamn time with him, I swear I’ll change the fucking locks so you can’t get back in.” Lea clutched the duffel bag, staring up at her friend in shock. “I’m sick of hearing his mopey ass lovesick bullshit. Neither of you are moving on, so you’re going to go with him to whatever stupid rich boy hotel he’s staying at, and you’re not going to come back until Monday.”

“But Theo—“

“Theo will be fine,” Livvy insisted, crossing her arms. “Go talk this out like adults. Or fuck it out. I don’t care. Just deal with it.”

With that, she took Theo by the hand and led him outside.

Tim was silent and motionless for a few seconds before pulling out his phone and tapping away at it. “My driver will be here in a minute or two.”

Lea tensed. “I’m not going with you.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, skepticism written all over his face. “Seems to me like you don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Lea rolled her eyes. “I could stay at my mom’s,” she ticked off a finger, “I could stay at Lina’s,” another finger, “or I could stay at Ari’s.” A third finger. “I’ll just tell Livvy I went with you and things didn’t work out and we’ll never, ever see each other again. Everybody wins.”

Tim stood slowly, walking towards her like she was going to book it at any second. “No,” he said flatly. She bristled, about to object, but he continued before she could speak. “No, that’s not what’s going to happen. You’re going to come back to my hotel with me. We’re going to talk about this. We’re going to decide on how long of an engagement we want, and then we’re going to start planning the move.”

“The move?!” she sputtered furiously. “I have a life here, you jackass, you can’t just uproot it—“

He frowned. “You told me when we first met that your dream was to design costumes for Broadway. Is that still true?”

Lea tensed.

“I thought so,” he said with a single nod. “I can get you that job, you realize. Very, very easily. All I’d have to do is make a phone call.”

“I don’t need your stupid nepotism—“

Tim rolled his eyes. “Why not?” he asked. “You deserve everything you want, and what I want is to be the one to give it to you.”

“I don’t—“

He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his, and her words were cut off the second she felt the warmth of his skin, his large hands holding hers. “Think about it,” he begged. “Just— just think about it for a second, okay?” He searched her face, his eyes flitting between both of hers. “Whatever kind of childhood you want Theo to have, I can give him. Whatever life you want for yourself, I can give you. You wanna travel? I'll take you anywhere you want. You want Theo to attend the best private schools in the world? He’ll attend the best private schools in the world. You want a job? You can have any job you want. You never want to work another day in your life? That sounds fucking fantastic, I’d get to keep you in my bed all the goddamn time—“

Lea bristled at the mention of their history, what she’d wanted three years ago.

“Just tell me what you want, sweetheart. Ask me for the world and it’s yours.”

She lowered her gaze to where his hands clasped hers in her lap. “Tim…”

“Come with me, mon amour,” he begged. “Come with me. Let me show you how good we can have it. Let me remind you what we were meant for. Please, baby.”

Her lower lip wobbled, and a tear slipped from her eye. “I can’t,” she breathed. “I wish— I wish I could. God, do I wish I could.”

“I’m not letting you go again,” he reminded her, his voice firm and gentle at the same time. “I’m asking you because I love you and I want you to choose to come with me, but even if you don’t agree, you’re coming with me anyway.”

She rolled her eyes, another tear sliding down her cheek. “You’re so goddamn controlling—“

“Yep,” he agreed happily, “I’m very controlling when it comes to you. But I know you, and you think it’s hot, so.”

Lea pursed her lips, scrunching up her nose at him with a glare. “I do not,” she insisted firmly, steadfastly ignoring the ever-present desire she felt whenever he was near. He just did that to her. It was fine. He’d always done that to her.

“You do,” he said with that stupidly overconfident smirk of his. “You very much do. I’m not oblivious to the effect I have on you, y’know.”

Lea looked away, blushing bright red.

“Fucking hell, you’re adorable,” he muttered. Then, shaking his head as if to dispel thoughts of her apparent adorableness from his mind, he decided, “Okay, time to go,” and pulled her to her feet.

“What?” Lea squeaked, lurching away from him. “No, I most certainly am not going with you!”

He groaned in frustration, putting his hands on his hips. “Lea,” he began with what was very obviously forced patience, “do you want our son to see his father carry his mother to the car kicking and screaming? Because it sounds to me like that’s what you’re going for here.”

She blanched, mentally weighing her options. After a tense beat of silence, she sighed. “Fine.”

Tim reached over to wrap an arm around her waist, but she backed away from him with a scowl.

“I do not want to stay with you until Monday,” she griped.

“Why not?” he asked with a pout. “It’s Wednesday, so we’ll get lots of time together.”

“Yes,” Lea said slowly, as if he were a child who didn’t understand something she’d just told him, “that’s largely why I’m so against this.”

He hummed, taking the duffel back from her despite her protests. “Hush, I’m carrying it,” he brushed her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And anyway, you want to know what I think?”

She very much did not, actually, but he didn’t give her the chance to say so.

“I think,” he continued as he strolled towards the door, “that you’re fully aware of the fact that you’re going to say yes. I think you’re fully aware of the fact that in…” He furrowed his brows in thought. “Two hours or less, I’m thinking? Yeah, that sounds about right. In two hours or less, you’re going to be begging me to touch you. You know this, and it both scares and embarrasses you. It’s okay, though,” he reassured with a grin. “You know you never have to be embarrassed with me.”

She wanted to point out that he’d said that three years ago, and therefore it no longer applied. Her body was… it was different than when he’d seen it last. It had changed with her pregnancy. She had stretch marks in places she didn’t before. It didn’t matter, though. She had no intention of getting involved with him again. Sure, he’d fuck her, but it would be in more ways than one, and she couldn’t deal with any of them.

The party was going on in front of the house, and only Livvy seemed to notice the pair heading towards the ridiculously fancy, ridiculously shiny black car. She grinned, and Lea flipped her off. Livvy outright laughed at that.

Tim opened the door for her, and she slid in, holding her purse firmly in her lap. He popped open the trunk, closed it again, and slid in next to her with a bright smile. “Mr. Chalamet,” his driver—a burly man with a bushy mustache—greeted before meeting Lea’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “Ma’am.”

“Hello,” she greeted awkwardly, buckling herself in.

“Lea, meet Jerry,” Tim said cheerfully. “Jerry, meet my fiancée, Lea.”

Lea swatted his arm, hissing, “I am not—“

He grinned indulgently at her. “Whatever you say.”

She glared at him, but he just nodded at Jerry, who started the engine and raised the partition. She didn’t even know cars that weren’t limos could have partitions.

She heard him tapping on his phone. “Who are you texting?” she demanded. He insisted she come with him and he was gonna text on the drive over?

“My mom,” he told her, sounding very pleased with himself indeed. “I’m thinking a house here, one in New York, and one in LA. What do you think? Do you want more than that, or is that good?”

She stared at him, gaping. “Wh— what?”

Tim paused, lifting his gaze to hers. “Well,” he said slowly, “we’ll need a house. Definitely more than one, since I travel so much and I don’t intend to let you stay at home all the time. We never got to travel as much as I wanted.”

“You took me to Greece on a private jet,” she reminded him, her voice flat.

“Ah, yes,” he recalled with a smile, leaning back against his seat. “I remember. You were so loud that the flight attendants wouldn’t look directly at us when we disembarked—“

“Timothée!” she gasped, horrified.

He shrugged, continuing to text. “Well you were!”

“I don’t like to remember those things,” Lea snapped sharply, staring out the window and watching the houses pass by as they moved closer to downtown.

“Why not?” he asked softly, sadly. “I think about them almost constantly. For a long time, those memories were all I had left of you.”

“I had plenty to remember you by,” she pointed out, leaning her forehead against the tinted glass of the window. “If I could’ve erased the memories, erased all connection to you, believe me, I would’ve.”

He was silent for a moment. “Even Theo?”

“No,” Lea told him quietly. Then, a bit louder, “I’d definitely erase his genetic ties to his sperm donor, however.”

“You can say Dad,” he reminded her, sounding dejected. “I’m… I’m his dad. I want to be his dad.”

She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that stung behind her eyelids. “I know, Tim,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear her. “I know.”

When they rolled to a stop in front of what she surmised was his hotel, he rushed to open the door for her, insisting on carrying her duffel bag again, as well. She rolled his eyes at his pointless attempts at chivalry.

Her feelings about the whole situation changed very quickly upon looking up and seeing the hotel he was staying at, however. She looked up at it, and there it was: a tall building covered in blue windows. He held out a hand to her, and she was so shocked by what she was seeing that she reverted back to her long-gone habit of putting her hand in his and letting him lead her anywhere he liked.

He was wearing sunglasses and a hoodie, the way he often did when he didn’t want to be noticed. They walked to the hotel entrance, and looking up at him now, with the late afternoon sun glinting off his sunglasses and his hair blowing slightly in the summer breeze, it occurred to her that he was even sexier at twenty-nine than he’d been at twenty-six, which was saying something because she used to joke that he could impregnate someone from a look alone. Turns out it required a bit more than that, but y’know. You live and you learn.

“Tim,” she said quietly, and he looked down at her with a smile.

She pulled her hand away, and his face fell a bit, but he still looked hopeful. Like a puppy, almost. Ugh.

“What, uh…” She gulped nervously as they stepped inside the ridiculously swanky hotel. “What hotel is this, exactly?”

He thought for a second, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Ritz-Carlton, I think. Why?”

Her head was spinning. “This is a really fancy hotel,” she pointed out weakly.

He shrugged, walking towards the elevator with the long, confident strides of someone who did not feel at all out of place.

They rode the elevator, and he rocked back and forth on his feet. Lea fidgeted with her hair anxiously. At the very top floor, there were three sets of doors, all very far apart from one another. Tim hummed a tune she didn’t recognize as he fished in his back pocket for his wallet and before locating the keycard necessary to open the carved double doors.

When she stepped inside, her heart stopped.

Patterned marble tile in the entryway, a study to her right, a bathroom to her left, and in front of her… in front of her was a large archway, and what looked to be a living room. A large sectional sofa occupied a good chunk of the space, and a crystal chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling. There was a TV, as well as several large floor-length windows, it looked like. She stepped inside hesitantly, feeling unsure of herself despite the ginormous-ass sapphires she was wearing.

“This…” She gulped. “This is your hotel room?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed cheerfully, then paused. “Why, do you not like it? We can get a different one—“

Lea shook her head. “No, there’s no need to… to do that. It’s just… it’s a lot. I guess I kinda forgot that you just… live like this.”

His smile widened. “Now you can again, too.”

She blushed at the implication that they were back together and examined her feet. “So, um… where’s my room?”

A suite that huge must have more than one room, right?

He ran off to their right briefly before returning without his hoodie, sunglasses, or her duffel bag. Lea blinked at him, and he was beaming down at her. He was just so goddamn happy.

“C’mon, I’ll show you around,” he said with a grin. “Office through there,” he declared, pointing to the right of the entryway. Then he pointed to the left. “Bathroom is there.” He took her hand then, and she found herself following him again. “This is the living room, obviously,” he said, gesturing around them before pointing directly ahead. “Balconies have some cool views of the city, but there are no chairs or anything.”

She stared up at him in disbelief. “Sorry— balconies?”

“Yeah,” Tim confirmed casually, sounding mildly impatient to get on with things, leading her left. “Bar,” he pointed out as he passed a wet bar pressed against the wall. “Though knowing you, you probably still don’t drink, huh? That’s fine. I am definitely having a cigarette with something later, though.”

Lea couldn’t really blame him for that. It had been a pretty stressful day, and all he’d signed up for was his daughter’s third birthday party.

“Dining room,” he said as they neared a large table that sat under a proportionately large chandelier. He strolled through a doorway, pulling her after him. “Kitchen,” he declared with a wave towards a small but fully equipped kitchen. Actually, she couldn’t very well call it small, really, because it was approximately the same size as her own kitchen.

“And, uh…” She gulped, though she wasn’t entirely sure why, exactly. “What about my room?”

Tim nodded, smiling over his shoulder at her, mischief dancing in his eyes, and her heart pounded in her chest.

He led her across the living room, past the TV, and through a set of French doors. Directly ahead of her were two sliding doors that met in the middle, leading down a hallway lined with shelves. She gathered from the clothes he had hanging up that it was a closet, but wasn’t this supposed to be her room? Maybe it was a shared closet. Surely that’s what it was. It had to be; he’d put her duffel bag in there.

On the other side of the closet, there was a chair sitting in front of a vanity table, it looked like. Closer to her, however, directly to her left, there was an archway through which she caught sight of what looked like an exceptionally large bathtub.

“That’s the main bathroom,” Tim explained when he saw her looking at it. “It has two of everything: two toilets, two sinks, two showers. Only one bathtub, though.” He glanced down at her briefly. “Not that I mind, of course.”

Memories of the last time she’d ridden him in the bath flashed behind her eyelids with every blink— water splashing, him licking droplets of it off her breasts before capturing a nipple between his lips and sucking, him moaning her name, her moaning his, begging him for more, god, Tim—

She shook her head slightly, and he smirked as if he knew exactly what memory she’d been visiting.

Tim gestured to an archway directly across from the one leading to the bathroom. “This is the bedroom.”

The bedroom. Not your bedroom. Not my bedroom. The bedroom.

Heart thudding insistently against her ribcage, Lea tucked her hair behind her ears. “So… where do we, like.” She laughed awkwardly. “Where do we sleep?”

He frowned at her. “In the bed…?”

She’d been afraid of this. Pursing her lips, she grabbed her duffel bag.

“Where are you going?” Tim asked, sounding a bit concerned.

“To change. None of these rooms have any real doors,” she pointed out, heading off in the direction of the half-bath in the entryway.

“Oh,” he said. “There's sliding doors and stuff…” His voice was a bit hesitant when he called after her.

“I’d prefer something with a lock.”

With that, she locked herself in the small bathroom. Actually, in retrospect, this “tiny” half-bath in her ex-boyfriend’s unnecessarily large hotel suite was approximately the same size as her own bathroom, and she had the master, for god’s sake. Ugh.

Either way, she changed into her most modest nightgown, choosing to leave her bra on.

There was a blanket in her duffle bag that she had every intention of wrapping around her so he couldn’t see her in her nightgown. It wasn’t even that immodest, really. It reached just above her knees, showed no cleavage whatsoever, and had a cute ruffle at the bottom. Plus, she’d gotten it on clearance at Target. The issue was that it was partially see-through. This meant he’d be able to see her panties and bra through the thin white linen, which was… unacceptable, quite frankly. Hence, blanket.

But still, her makeup. Especially that lipstain and mascara, ho boy. She needed some kind of remover before she went to sleep or she’d break out like she was thirteen all over again.

“Tim,” she called once she’d fished through her entire duffel bag. By the time she stuck her head out of the bathroom door to call for him again, he was standing right outside, looking entirely too pleased that she’d called for him. Lea fought the urge to roll her eyes. He was so transparent. “I don’t suppose you have any makeup remover?”

He furrowed his brows, considering this before nodding and running off again. When he returned,

It was with a bag of cotton balls and a small bottle of what was likely very expensive makeup remover. She took one look at it and decided immediately that she’d use it very sparingly. It felt… wrong to use his things when they weren’t together, weren’t even friends. The more expensive the thing in question, the more wrong it felt.

“Do you need anything else?” Tim asked eagerly.

“No thank you,” she told him politely, smiling tightly and shutting the door again. She heard him sigh once the lock clicked into place, and it was a good thirty seconds before he walked off again.

By the time Lea finished removing her makeup, she had decided that she had long since earned a nap. She liked to be cocooned in when she slept, and since she couldn’t very well sleep in his bed, the shorter side of the sectional would do perfectly. She had to curl her legs up slightly in order to lay down, but once she’d covered herself in her fuzzy blanket and lay her head on one of the throw pillows, she sighed with contentment.

Yeah, she was essentially in hell. In fact, despite being agnostic and therefore thoroughly undecided on the concept of an afterlife, Lea wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t died and promptly descended into an eternity of being around her ridiculously attractive ex-boyfriend that she was very much still in love with but not allowed to have for her own sanity and the well-being of her child. In any case, if hell existed, this exact scenario was likely hers.

However, despite that, she was comfortable. She was warm, she was cozy. Maybe it was her exhaustion, but even her bra wasn’t bothering her. She’d just started to drift off to sleep when a voice startled her.

“Lea?” Tim asked, sounding concerned. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, but what’re you doing out here? The bed is way softer, and the pillows are just the way you like them. It even has curtains around it to block out light.”

She was so tired. So very, very tired. And sleeping in a bed that smelled like Tim after so long? Forget hell, that sounded like heaven.

“You don’t have to sleep here, sweetheart,” he told her gently. “Will you let me carry you to bed?”

Lea’s eyes were half-closed, but she nodded at him, too sleepy to remember why agreeing was a bad idea. “Mhm,” she hummed, smiling softly at him.

He smiled back at her, gently pulling the blanket from her body. She didn’t notice the way his breath hitched when he saw her nightgown riding up her thighs, or the way one of her breasts appeared to be falling out of her bra because she was laying on her side.

When he picked her up, cradling her to him, she nestled her head into his shirt, inhaling deeply with a contented smile. She was barely awake, and with him holding her like that, it was like the past three years hadn’t happened and he was carrying her to bed after a long day.

“Tim,” she signed happily.

“I’m here, baby,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her hairline. “I’m here.”

He lay her down, pulling the covers up over her. She nestled in, then frowned when the underwire of her bra constricted against her ribcage, the straps digging into her shoulders. “Tim,” she complained lazily.

“Yeah?” he asked as he pulled the balcony curtains closed.

“Can you help me with my bra?”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Of course, angel.”

Lea turned over, and he reached beneath her nightgown to undo her bra expertly, sliding the straps from her shoulders. She pulled the offending garment the rest of the way off, flinging it across the room in annoyance. It landed on a couch that was up against the wall, and Tim stared at where he could now see the shadows of her nipples through the fabric of her nightgown, the way her breasts moved as she breathed, and he couldn’t help it. He stripped down to his boxers and got in next to her, pulling the curtains around the bed closed.

She immediately nestled in close to him, assuming the sudden weight on the mattress was Theo. “Did you have a nightmare, sweetie?” she asked, almost entirely asleep.

Tim cupped her cheek, tracing the lines of her face with gentle fingertips. “It’s me, Lea.”

She smiled softly, shifting closer to him. “Tim.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “God, I missed this with you. I missed you so much, baby.”

Lea hummed, mumbling, “‘m here.” She yawned, burying her face in his neck. “Love you.”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly get. “I love you, too.”

Yeah this chapter is over 11k don’t worry about it

Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @vampire-reanimator

To be added, please ask 💗

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questioned-quetzalcoatl · 2 years

Text

30 Days of OTP - Day 14, Genderbent

Rating: K

Verse: Nyotalia

AN: This is set up so that it's not the 'Oh my god we've turned into women' cliché because I didn't want this to sound as cringe as some of the previous days ;w;

But yeah they're already established as their Nyo! versions and in a ball in the 1800's because I'm always a sucker for vintage things, especially clothing and fashion of the time period. Kainga literally looks the same both canon and Nyo, that's being androgynous for you *shrug*

I will actually write Non Binary Tonga one day I swear-

Juliet (New Zealand) Kainga (Tonga)

Why was she here again? She didn't remember. Taking it upon herself to accept the party invite in the first place, what on earth was she thinking?

Dressed in her light blue ballgown, she'd even forgot where she'd got this from. Perhaps caught her sight in the window of a store as she walked past the window of flashy dresses, new in style of the typical modern style of the 1800's. She clearly didn't try it on before she ran into the store to buy it, she just knew she had to grab it before someone else did. The consequences catching up to her as the dress constricted around waist and stomach, designed that way to make her slimmer, defining her more feminine features in its purpose design.

Despite the coreset half crushing her ribs, the dress was enticingly beautiful. The sleeves and blouse were vaguely puffed out, all done in sapphire blues and shades of cobalt flecked with white that seemed to undulate of their own volition. The lower skirt of the dress consisted of ruffled tiers of sky blue satin that ended in a ragged hem just above her ankles, as if the seamstress had suddenly been called away before completing her task. Patterned up with light blue flowers across the fabric, woven into the creamy material. A spidery white lace bodice consummated the ensemble, shimmering under the ballroom light that matched with the pearl necklace wrapped around her neck. Silk cyan ribbons held up the dresses lace around about the area of her chest, waist and upper arms where her pleated trimmed sleeves came to an end.

She held her matching fan up to rest on her chin and mouth, watching the ballroom with weary eyes. Three dozen glittering crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the ceiling, which was the exact shade of yellow of a sunny summer day in August, sending a lovely diffused golden light over the ballroom’s occupants. And how they glittered as well. A group of three women in front of Kainga all had flowing, elaborately-bejeweled ball gowns of the most beautiful shades of emerald and ruby and amethyst. They smelled of roses and hyacinth and jasmine and every other flower in the garden outside the palace. The ballroom had been cold for centuries, until true love entered and the torches lit as if by divine hand, to feel the presence of a heart with such a strong soul-connection. But there was no one here for her.

It was too stuffy in here anyways. Was there a way out? She had no purpose here than to sit and look pretty for the glazing eyes of single men who watched her trying to figure out if she was truly a woman, man, or something entirely different. It was the way she held her hair wasn't it. Dark brown curly hair, the waves of hair wrapping around themselves like locks of pure silk. Held together with a small white headband so her hair curled up in the same fashion where her hair curled like the horns of a sheep.

Making her way to the balcony, she was glad to find it was relevantly empty. A few people stood at the large arching entrance to the balcony, she could hear their low chatter as they talked among themselves and laughed, seemingly completely at ease. Around the balcony where lush bush grew, coiling around the marble pillars like snakes within the thick trees that hung over her. Her gloved hands rested on the railing on the balcony, just glad to get some fresh air and-

There was a rustle from the trees, the sound of grunting. Was someone attempting to climb it? She peeked forward timidly, unexpectedly, another woman jumped from canopy of the trees, making Kainga scream in surprise and drop her fan. The other woman didn't seem phased, in fact, she laughed loudly at her. Like this was some kind of joke that the Tongan had almost ripped her dress.

Juliet is surprised to say, she got away with wearing such masculine clothing for a woman. Dressed in a suit and tie, the pants up to her ankles because god forbid she show her ankles in public. But she wasn't one to fit into the exact norms of the time, plus it was easier to climb trees and sneak into parties in. That's the kind of woman she was.

"Sorry to scare ya!" she bent down at the hips, Kainga was baffled by her behavior. What woman bends at the hips? It would reveal...everything! How informal was she? This woman in a suit bending down at her hips before-

She handed her back her fan with a smile coaxed on her face. "Miss Tonga is it?"

Kainga took the fan with a small huff, opening it up to fan it in her face. She noticed the strange looking markings under the woman's lower lip. They looked like some kind of chin tattoos, she examined it closely. It looked rather traditional, consisting of curls and swirls patterned on her dark brown skin. Whatever it was, or meant, it was strangely beautiful. Kainga looked back into her bright eyes. "Miss Kingdom of Tonga to you-"

"That's too long," the Kiwi complained. "Can I just call ya Miss Tonga? You got a human name? Are ya even a shelia-?"

She let out a small sigh and shot her a dark look, looking away from the over woman with her fan half covering her face. "Kainga." she said meekly, looking back up at her. "You?"

"Ms Aotearoa!" Juliet chirped cheerfully. "Or New Zealand as Alice calls me, I prefer Aotearoa, it's badass!"

Kainga let out a small scoff. "Right. And your human name..?"

"Juliet! Me friends call me Julie!" Juliet took the gloved hands of the Brunette in front of her, making the other almost jump out of her dress. Speaking of which. "Wow, this dress is amazin'! Where'd ya get it from?!" Without warning, she grabbed the helm of Kainga's dress all too innocently and lifted it up to inspect more.

Kainga could only let out a scream of pure blaspheme, whacking the Kiwi woman over the head with her fan. While Juliet only caught a glimpse, she could tell that the Tongan possessed the same genitals as her. Tonga was indeed a girl. But she really didn't mean to lift that far up. Juliet let out a scream as her fellow colony punches her and starts shouting at her in her mother tongue as the pair scrapped on the floor.

Even as the smaller woman was on top of her probably trying to kill her for such awful deeds, she couldn't help but think about how adorable she was. When her hits gave less force, she just grabbed the Tongan's wrist.

"I'll have ya know, I think yer adorable." Juliet exclaimed all too happily. "Like a poodle, a really feisty poodle!"

Kainga's wrist slipped out of the white silk glove as Juliet held it. She shyed her hand away and attempted another swipe for it. "I'm no poodle!" she snapped angrily. Pushing herself off of Juliet's not so womanly body, from the looks of her, she was rather strong. At least compared to how petite Kainga was. "Give it back!"

She snatched the glove out of Juliet's hand with a disgruntled high pitched huff, standing up to dust off her dress and make sure that the boisterous Kiwi woman hadn't ripped it. Juliet however, was rolling on the floor in a hoot. "Yer shoulda seen ya face! Priceless!"

"Oh shut up you! You crinkled my dress!" She pinned her hair back up with the bobby pins and slipping her headband back on. Giving Juliet a lighter hit on the head with her fan. To be fair, it could've been worse. She'd had her fair share of men try to grab her bust, above all, this woman didn't seem like she really meant harm. Maybe she was just a bit stupid. Or really stupid. She took that latter.

"Oh relax princess, it's not the end of the bloody world!" Juliet stood up with a jump in her step and smiled at her. Suddenly, taking the smaller woman's hand in her own when the music got noticeably louder. "I like this song," she hummed thoughtfully. ",Yer dance?"

"W-what?!"

"I'm askin yer, if ya wanna dance with me~" She took her hand, raised it onto her shoulder. Kainga's gloved hands were so slim and elegant. She noticed, trailing her own fingertips down her arm before going to hold her waist. Taking the position of the 'man' in the dance, the Tongan gasped. Scandalous, she's never danced with another woman before. She felt her face flush as if she was being courted by a man but, no, it was different. At Kainga's incredulous stare, Juliet only smiled.

"Well...yes I suppose so-"

She couldn't even finish her sentence before Juliet swept her off her high heels into a dance. Outside on the balcony, just the two of them. They fell in step, letting the rhythm control their movements. Kainga didn't even know this dance, nor did she even dance but something about being in Juliet's grasp made her feel gentle. Safe. All the scenery and people around them vanished, it was just Juliet and Kainga.

Kainga set her head on her shoulder, eyelashes fluttering shut like the beat of a butterflies wings. They continued to dance, simply just lost in each other. Time could only pass as their feet moved in the steps of the foxtrot.

She brought her head up and sleepily opened her eyes. She leaned in and planted her lips on Juliet's. Juliet wrapped her arms around her neck in return and held her tight as the kiss continued.

Kainga broke off gently and gazed at her, Juliet's lips stained with her crimson lipstick. "Scandalous. You're really something else aren't you?"

Juliet still could not get over how beautiful Kainga truly was that, she couldn't even respond.

#sorry this is late i'm currently moving again #30 days of zeaonga #30 day otp challenge #aph tonga #aph new zealand #hetalia #aph #hws new zealand #zeaonga #hetalia oc #hws tonga #ao3 fanfic #nyotalia

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brooklynislandgirl · 1 year

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Advent Calendar: Day 17 @lokitheliesmith

Beth sets the ribbon between the pages before she closes the book and sets it on the nightstand. She had been listening to Hela’s breath until it became slow and deep, an indication that the girl had fallen well and truly asleep. She leans over and brushes the lightest of kisses against her brow then secures the covers around her shoulders. Every movement is slow. Designed to do as little disturbance as possible. After all, tomorrow is the Solstice and she has a few more things to do. There are holly and evergreen boughs in place, set at intervals with candles. Stockings hung from the hearth in place of a tree, in which she’s got gifts to put in. Those gifts are not as extravagant as they might have been while they remained in Midgard. There is of course a variety of confections both sweet and savoury to appeal to both their tastes. A particularly special book of fables and mythologies from her homeland, so little known beyond the islands, written by none other than the titular Merry Monarch, King Kalakaua. One from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. Stories so woven into the fabric of human imagination it’s unlikely that Hela has read them all. Loki was so much harder to provide for; she’s showered xer in jewels, tokens made by her own hands, and everything in between. There really isn’t anything about the world left behind that might hold xer interest or fascination that she could possibly think of. So instead she got Loki a phone which is sort of impractical but then she loaded up several terabyte micro-sd cards with all the music she could imagine. A host of different genres and tempos, for every possible mood that xe could have. Airpods too, just in case xe wanted some semblance of privacy to go along with choice. The final gift is less that and more a symbol, however stupid it might seem. Three necklaces of equal size, all of which are wrapped in rose-gold refined from one of the Riley mines. Each wrapped wire bears the axis mundi, the World Tree, Yggdrasil. The one thing common to them all, whose branches reach into ends of the heavens, whose roots go into the deepest of the lower realms, and whose trunk connects every path. For Loki, it is green opal. A stone all about the heat, meant to nourish and replenish the energies of anyone who struggles with emotional heartache, who knows trauma and grief. A stone to help release fear, to strengthen all bonds between others regardless of the nature of the relationship. For Hela, tiger’s eye. Its unblinking eye is a powerful guardian talisman to ward off evil. To strengthen the will and one’s inner mana which might lay dormant or repressed. It is known to enhance one’s empathy and inner vision, able to pierce even the heaviest of mystery’s veils. For herself, turquoise is known as a spiritual counsellor, dispelling negative energy and balancing mood swings. It is sworn to soothe depression and exhaustion. There’s other traits too, though she doesn’t find them particularly necessary. Once each of the wrapped gifts find their way to where they belong for morning’s surprise, and she’s laid her glasses aside, she seeks Loki out. Not at all surprised to find xer at the window. She slips an arm around xer waist, and leans into the space nearest xer ribs. It occurs to her that this is the first Solstice that Loki has not been entrapped. And yet, here they are together. Serene in the quiet. She’s almost loath to break it, but she does. “I would know your mind, Ástvinur, were you to share it. And if not...have you anything you’d like in particular, with your birthday coming up?”

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filthy-reckless-rp · 3 months

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♛ Spotted on the Upper East Side…

Name: Valentina Mendez Pronouns: Up To Player Age: 35 years old Hometown: UTP Occupation: Freelance Journalist Social Status: Wannabe Faceclaim suggestion: Karla Souza

Who Is Valentina?

“I eat boys like you for breakfast, one by one, hung on my necklace.”

Valentina Mendez... If it isn't my kindred spirit, so to speak. Much like myself, you'll stop at nothing to know the whole story, every secret and every scandal. If there's dirt to be found, you've found it. There's no challenge too difficult, no case uncrackable, not when it's on your radar. Many an Upper East Sider has shaken in their designer boots when they hear you're snooping around. When you know you have a story, you can't let it go. You're passionate, you're tenacious-- you don't know when to leave 'well enough' alone. Between you and I, there'll never be a dull day around here again. XOXO ---Gossip Girl

A Little Extra

UTP (two paragraphs of biography; helpful key points listed below - message if you’d like to make any changes or note in the app if you’d rather the bio written up for you!)

Valentina knew they wanted to be a journalist ever since they were a kid. Growing up, they consumed stories, spent hours writing their own and interviewed every single one of their family members. It was their dream and they didn't stop until it became a reality.

Tenacious, bold (reckless) and endlessly argumentative, Valentina does what it takes to get the story. They don't care about ruffling the wrong feathers, they don't care about making enemies. Sometimes, they actually enjoy it.

When it comes to their work, they'll always do the research and give an unbiased analysis of the truth. In their personal life, they think they're always right (they are!). Val never backs down and rarely compromises.

Now a freelancer, Val worked for numerous publications. They've done their fair share of fluff pieces, exposés and real, hard-hitting journalism (in their opinion). Some stories? They're not so proud of but the past is the past.

The truth is important to Valentina. They've always been brutally honest but aren't above lying to uncover the truth. They're loyal to themself, they have their own back and at the end of the day, they don't need anyone else.

What Does Gossip Girl Have On Them?

UTP (if applicable; alternatively you can note their thoughts on Gossip Girl’s return!)

Connections

Faith Mendez - the niece! They think that Faith has a lot of potential. She's smart, sharp and has the same sarcastic tendencies as Val.

Thalia Baizen - fire meet gasoline. It was fireworks between these two right away. They butted heads, they got into heated arguments. They got married. They got divorced. Thalia is still in Val's life, and occasionally, they'll even do an article for her. If Val believed in soulmates, Thalia was theirs.

Gabriela Archibald - there's no one who gets in a journalists way more than Gabriela Archibald. They've butted heads more than a few times over stories Gabriela has successfully squashed.

Lili Mahdavi - what better source could there be than the bodyguard to the Upper East Side's brats? Lili is adamant she wants nothing to do with Val but we'll just see!

#o #c: valentina mendez #*#wannabe #faith #thalia #gabriela #lili

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tchallasbabymama · 2 years

Note

Can we get a preview of the next chapter pleeeeeease?

Of course! Here's a little snippet of chapter 17 of Troubled Waters 😎

Shuri nervously straightened the devices lined up on the display table as she waited for everyone to arrive at the otherwise empty lab. Something about Nia’s voice when she called her an hour prior left the princess feeling uneasy, as if a dark cloud had rolled into the sky, blocking out the sunshine and heralding their demise, so she sent her lab techs home for the day to be with their loved ones. She tried to swallow her nerves, but nothing, not even a sweet message from Ebele could quell the feeling of impending doom swirling in Shuri’s gut. She had known that a fight was coming the moment they discovered Sekhmet’s involvement in Bast’s disappearance, but it felt near.

The last time Shuri fought by her brother’s side, she was coasting off of pure adrenaline and rage, but this time she knew too much. She now knew what it felt like to have someone look at her with murder in their eyes, and that was just a man. This time, they were fighting a deity.

Shuri’s kimoyo beads buzzed on her wrist, alerting her that someone was there and pulling her from her anxious stupor. She took a deep breath, counting to ten to center herself and stop her hands from shaking. By the time she got to seven, N’Jadaka emerged from the corridor, and Shuri watched him curiously as he descended the winding ramp.

“Where did you get that?” she asked when he reached the bottom floor, her eyes raking over his figure and taking in the blood-colored fibers that covered his body. His garnet necklace hung in the middle of his chest like an arc reactor, and the suit filled in around it with specks of gold scattered about in the same pattern as his scarification. Naturally, his sword and spear were strapped to his back.

“You like? Courtesy of the god of war,” he explained as he smiled and did a spin, modeling his new suit. “Vibranium armor forged in his flame. Just something I’ve been working on for a little while.”

“So, you’re Kokou’s champion now?”

“Something like that.”

“And you just had to add the scars?”

“Wouldn’t be me without ‘em,” he shrugged. “Where’s everybody?”

Shuri sighed, her nerves returning full force.

“On their way,” she answered as she went back to fiddling with the gadgets laid out for them to use. “Nia said she had to make a stop first.”

N’Jadaka nodded and examined his little cousin with his perceptive eyes.

“You good?”

Shuri looked up at him with all the determination in the world and swallowed her fears for a moment.

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked, betraying her and making her avert her eyes back to the table.

N’Jadaka understood where she was coming from. His anxiety about Sekhmet was through the roof, but he had to remind himself that he trusted Kokou to keep him safe. “I always get nervous before a fight, too, you know.”

“You?” Shuri looked at him like he had two heads. “The fierce, world-renown murderer, Killmonger?”

“Even the boogeyman gets scared sometimes, cuz,” he said with a shrug. “You wouldn’t be human otherwise.”

His words brought her the tiniest bit of comfort, but that dark cloud still loomed.

“Yeah, well-”

Shuri’s response was cut short by an alarm sounding on her wrist, and her heart dropped into her stomach at the sound. She had programmed the alarms herself, and knew just what each one meant, and this one signaled trouble. Just as her fingertips grazed the newly-designed breach detecting kimoyo bead, a loud boom shook the entire mountain.

“The fuck was that?” N’Jadaka asked, steadying himself against the table.

“I-I don’t know,” Shuri stuttered as she scrambled to read the output of her beads. Based on her alarm, she expected to see slightly elevated atmospheric changes that occurred where the veil thinned, but this time the numbers were off the charts. “Something’s wrong. I’ve never seen it do this before.”

Suddenly, the air thickened until it felt like they were swimming through it, and Shuri turned to her cousin for confirmation of what just occurred.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked, unsure of the sensation since she had never actually traveled to the magic realm before.

“Yeah, we just-”

Another boom reverberated through the lab, and through the window, they could see a waterfall pouring from the top of the mine. Shuri’s eyes blew wide at the sight, and she hurriedly typed in the emergency code on her tablet, making an alarm blare throughout all of Mt. Bashenga.

“Emergency protocols engaged,” Griot, Shuri’s trusty AI, announced as another boom made the walls tremble, and water began leaking from the ceiling.

“We gotta get out of here.”

“My designs-”

“Leave it!”

Shuri couldn’t just abandon her work, so she took what she could carry, and she and N’Jadaka ran up the spiral ramp at full speed. They made it out just before the lab’s doors sealed shut behind them, but what lied ahead of them was no easy feat. So much of the mine was already underwater that the hallway leading out to it had already flooded up to their waists.

“Fuck!” N’Jadaka cursed. “Can you swim?”

“Yeah, but we can’t-”

“We have to; it’s filling up too fast.” N’Jadaka reached his hand out to Shuri and she took it, reluctantly dropping the few gadgets she was able to salvage from the lab and letting him lead her towards the exit.

They waded through the rising water as quickly as they could, but when they finally reached the exit, their hearts sank. It was blocked by a cargo ship that had been swept up in the tide, and they were trapped in the quickly-filling corridor. The two of them tried in vain to push the small ship out of the way, but it was no use. With each second that passed, the water rose higher and higher, and Shuri was already up to her chin by the time they realized their efforts would be useless.

N’Jadaka noticed a small opening towards the top of the doorway, and he grabbed Shuri, lifting her up and pushing her through to the other side. She reached back for him, but he shook his head. He wouldn’t be able to fit.

#slide up in my ask box #ask cece #anon #preview #troubled waters #cecewritessometimes

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aizawasnumberonefan · 2 years

Text

Permanence

Shota Aizawa x Reader

694 words

The tattoo machine buzzes against your ribs as you lay on your side in the chair. Aizawa holds your hand, letting you squeeze it hard without so much as a wince.

“You’re doing great.” He says gently. He’d already had his turn in the chair. Your favorite flower now stretches delicately up the side of his left knee, the entire thing wrapped in gauze and medical tape to protect the fresh ink. He leans over you and smiles, watching the artist fill in your new tattoo with yellow color. You’d brought the idea up to him a few months ago, getting tattoos for one another that weren’t corny like getting one another’s names. He was so cautious in picking out something meaningful that you would like, something that would look beautiful and right at home on your body.

You’d settled on your favorite flower for him, as he made sure to include it in every bouquet he’s ever gifted you with. It was a piece of beauty wrapped in history between the two of you, and he wanted to pick something similarly meaningful for you.

You’d been so sweet to him while he sat for his tattoo, checking on him, worried that it was hurting him too much, no matter how many times he reminded you that he’s experienced far worse for far less pleasant reasons. You brought about an entire pantry’s full of snacks and waters in case he got lightheaded and needed a break or needed any form of comfort that you couldn’t give with your presence alone. He was fine though, simply asking for kisses from you every so often.

You’re being so strong through yours. Even though ribs are one of the most painful places to get a tattoo, you refused to tap out, only pausing for short breaks to check out the progress and break into the biggest smile, the one that makes Shota’s heart squeeze and smile just as hard, so incredibly happy to see that you love the design he chose.

He picked his goggles, something that reminds you of him that isn’t overly garish. On one of your first dates, you’d sheepishly asked if you could try them on, and the way that they looked draped around your neck made him fall even harder and faster for you. On one of your dates further into the relationship, you’d proposed painting something about the other and gifting the paintings to each other at the end. He’d chosen to paint the necklace that you wear daily, one that he gave you on your first anniversary. Since then, he’s never seen you without it. You’d painted his goggles, making sure to add every detail that you could. He hung it on his wall that day, and it still makes him happy to see it.

“Done. What do you think?” says the tattoo artist. You jump up and go look in the mirror, face breaking up into a painfully big smile, turning your head to look at Shota. He returns your smile and gets up to go stand behind you.

“What do you think, love?” He asks, looking from the piece of art to you, where you nod enthusiastically.

“I love it, thank you so much!” You say, turning to the artist. You return to the chair to get bandaged up and Shota follows suit.

“I think they look better on you than they ever have on me.” He says, taking your hand and gently touching the skin around it, careful not to touch the sensitive tattoo site. His cool fingers raise goosebumps on your skin, making you giggle.

“Oh, not a chance. They’re your signature for a reason.” You say and lean forward to kiss his cheek, making him smile as he watches the artist bandage your side.

“Oh darling, if they looked half as good on me as they do on you, I’d be the number one fan-rated hero for aesthetics only. Good try though.” He winks, returning your kiss, but to your forehead. “Look at us now, tattoos for each other, so you’ll never forget me.” He jokes with a half smile.

“As if I ever could.”

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solinarimoon · 3 years

Text

Fields of Wildflowers

Chapter 15

A Sihtric x OC story

AN: Well loves, this is the final chapter for this story. Depending on how season 5 of the show goes, I may do more and I may do one-shots for Cwen and Sihtric later too. I am honestly incredibly proud of myself for finishing my very first multi-chapter story. And I am beyond thankful for each and every one of you who thought it was worth your time to read. Thank you! From the bottom of my Dane loving heart. I have more stories planned featuring our favorite cinnamon role Dane and some new OCs so be on the lookout! The moodboards provided by the lovely @serasvictoria

Warnings: Smut. Smut with feelings. (So this also counts as my outdoors entry for @tlkfanficfest bingo axe card)

Word Count: 3877

Fields of Wildflowers Masterlist

My Full Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hild found Cwen some old novice robes that fit comfortably enough. The abbess then cleaned Cwen’s face and put a soothing poultice on some of the deeper scrapes and bruises before sending her off to bed.

The room was plain, holding only a bed and a small table. And there was a lingering aroma of some floral fragrance Cwen couldn’t place. She laid down and was asleep within a matter of minutes.

When she awoke, it was with a start to find an arm weightily draped across her waist.

Turning from her side to lay on her back, Cwen saw Sihtric dozing soundly next to her.

He had found a moment to clean the grime and gore from his face and body, she noticed as she took in his features. His armor and tunic lay discarded by the door to the room and Cwen took a moment to take in his resting form. The line of his jaw and the length of his neck. His shoulder, rounded and firm, with long muscles leading along the arm hooked around her waist. She felt the heat radiating off his bare chest.

In his sleep, the warrior’s face was relaxed and his breathing even and shallow. His mouth hung slightly open, a quiet snore escaping him every few breaths.

Cwen raised a hand to brush the hair from his forehead and trace the lines along his brow.

She smiled when she felt him stir under her touch. Without opening his eyes, he reached a hand up to grasp her own and bring her palm to his lips.

“I am glad you took my advice and rested,” he hummed against her palm before pulling her body closer into his embrace.

“Is there peace?” she questioned after nuzzling against his neck and trailing her fingers along his collarbone.

“For now, it seems.”

“Tell me.” Cwen asked, sleep still clouding her voice.

Sihtric rolled onto his back, sliding his arm to rest under Cwen’s neck as she nestled into his side.

“They’ve given Sigtryggr Eofiwich. And he promises to remain peaceful and in alliance with Wessex and Mercia.” Sihtric paused, running his fingers gently through Cwen’s long hair. Hild had also spent time using a brush and comb to work through the knots and tangles that had accumulated during the siege.

“That can’t be all though,” Cwen asked while turning her face up to meet his, “What about Stiorra?”

Cwen felt as a rumble passed through Sihtric’s chest as he laughed.

“And what about Stiorra?”

Cwen propped herself up on to her arm, her mirthful smile mirroring his.

“Is she part of the bargain?”

“Why would she be?” Sihtric’s eyes glittered mischievously.

“Because they have fallen for one another. Stiorra and Sigtryggr.” Cwen’s words were sure and matter of fact.

Sihtric moved to place a strand of hair that had fallen across Cwen’s face before he asked, “Now what would make you say that?”

Sighing, Cwen laid herself back down and nestled into his side. Her fingers absent-mindedly finding the hammer amulet draped across his chest. Tracing the intricate designs.

“Well I don’t know exactly. I have never even seen them in the same room together,” and her words were interrupted by a scoff from Sihtric. She hushed him playfully before continuing, “but it is in the way they speak about each other. As if he truly sees her. And she, him.”

Here she paused, her hand stopping it’s fidgeting with the hammer. She took a breath then continued, vulnerability lacing her words, “It is not much different from the way I believe you see me. From the way you have watched me and seen me since the fields of Saltwich. You see me and know me. The true me. And that is love. To have someone see through you to your soul. Or your spirit, your essence. Whatever term you wish to give it. When a person can see your rough edges, the parts that are broken, the fragile things…” her fingers began fiddling with the pendant once more, nervous as she continued, “a person who can see that in another and appreciate it, accept it. That is love. That is what will help someone to heal. Find peace. Happiness. I see who you are and you see me for who I am. I see that mirrored in the way Stiorra and Sigtryggr speak about one another.”

Cwen’s voice got quieter as she stopped her rambling. Her fingers continued to place their anxious energy into toying with the necklace until she felt his strong hand wrap around her own, stopping her movements. He moved to place his knuckles below her chin, tilting her head up so he could catch her eyes.

“What have I done in my life to deserve you, my lady?”

Now it was Cwen’s turn to scoff at his use of the term lady once more before he continued, interrupting her.

“It is true. I have been blessed by the gods and I do not know why. I am nothing but a bastard son who has killed more men than I can count. Many who were probably good men.”

Cwen stared into his face as he spoke. She watched as his brows stitched together and the line of his jaw flexed. His eyes growing distant and clouded.

“Then you do not see what I see, Sihtric.” Her hand rose from his chest to caress his neck, fingers smoothing themselves through the curls of his hair, coaxing his eyes back from whatever unfocused horrors he was imagining, back to her.

“You are a man, devoted and loyal. I see your heart. A heart that is fierce and passionate, but also kind and warm. It is gentle when time or place calls for it. I see that in how you are with the children and with me. You have shown me time and time over that the quality of your heart is pure. It is all those things that make who you are. A warrior. A heathen but not a barbarian as some Christians would paint you. These are the reasons you follow Lord Uhtred. These are the reasons you fight. And they are good qualities.”

Cwen watched while he listened to her words. The lines of his face eased and the whites of his eyes glistened more brightly. The lovers brought their lips together, the language of a whispered kiss speaking more deeply than either could with words.

A subtle cough from the doorway broke them apart.

Hild stood, a kind smirk on her face.

“I would remind you that you are still in a church, Sihtric. And even though you are heathen I will have you respect this home of my God.”

Cwen rolled over, burying her face in her hands and stifling anxious giggles while she heard Sihtric apologize and then the rustle of Hild’s robes as she moved away from the door.

But Hild called over her shoulder to them before she had made it out of earshot, “Uhtred is looking for you. King Edward has spoken with him.”

“Tell my lord I am on my way.”

They heard Hild laugh before she replied, “He wishes to speak with Cwen.”

The pair glanced at each other, confusion on both of their faces. Slowly, they moved to sit up and make ready themselves.

“But Sihtric, you haven’t answered me!” Cwen exclaimed.

When he looked askance at her as he did the laces up on his tunic, she continued, “Stiorra? Is she leaving for Eofowich?”

Sihtric smirks without raising his eyes again to meet hers, instead focusing on his lacing.

“Well?” Cwen moved to help him secure the armour and interrupt his avoidance.

“She will be going as a hostage,” he replied. But the mirth behind his eyes showed his agreement with her notion that it was not a hostage arrangement.

“Lord Uhtred must be furious,” Cwen mused.

“He was quite, yes.”

Sihtric turned to grab his bracers off the floor and Cwen took them from him, sliding them onto each of his forearms in turn.

“So what does he need with me, I wonder?”

Sihtric shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as they walked out of the door to find Uhtred.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The king has charged me with the care of Aethelstan.”

Uhtred and Cwen were standing underneath the arches leading to the inner courtyard of the church.

Hild was walking with Eadith to stretch and warm some of her muscles, while an anxious Finan looked on. He was clearly only half listening to whatever Osfeth and Sihtric were discussing. It made Cwen smile, before turning her attention back to Uhtred.

“With care for Aethelstan? But Lady Aelswith had been planning to do that?”

Uhtred sighed, “Plans have changed. Apparently Lady Aelswith is in poor health after the siege. And Edward wants Aethelstan removed from Winchester. It will be safer for the boy.”

“Aelswith offered me a place in her household caring for him before we left Mercia. I turned her down but not because I don’t want to help Aethelstan. Did you wish to speak with me to ask for my help?”

Uhtred chuckled dryly and looked down at his boots, scuffing the dusty dirt.

“It is no secret, I am…,” he trailed off before clearing his throat and starting again, “I will be able to teach him the shield wall and battle tactics. And other life lessons but I am lacking in many skills when it comes to raising a child. I would ask you for help, yes.”

“And you will have it.” Cwen smiled, her words sincere and happy.

It was at that moment that Sihtric approached, wrapping his arm around Cwen’s waist and drawing her close to him as she leaned back into his embrace.

“You have chosen a good woman, Sihtric.” Uhtred clapped his friend on his shoulder.

“I have, indeed,” Sihtric paused, pressing a kiss against Cwen’s hairline making her grin despite herself.

“But may I have a word alone, Lord?”

Cwen glanced between the two men before excusing herself to go check in on Eadith and Hild.

After joining the two women, Cwen continued to glance back to where Sihtric stood speaking with Uhtred. The two men stood close together while Sihtric spoke, but his words did not travel and Cwen did not know what they discussed.

After only a few moments, she saw Uhtred embrace Sihtric and the two clapped each other on the back before breaking apart and Sihtric turned to walk to Finan and Osferth, who were standing in the path that Hild was guiding them along. Sihtric beamed at her as they approached, his smile filled with adoration.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After eating a light lunch with everyone, Sihtric excused himself and asked Cwen to join him. He led her to the edge of Winchester and outside the walls. The Saxon camp of King Edward was still scattered across the surrounding field, but the couple walked beyond the scattered tents and cookfires. Here and there, men were mulling about, collecting their things, preparing to return to their homes.

“Where are you taking me, Sihtric,” Cwen looped her arm through his and leaned herself against him as they strolled.

She smiled when she felt his breath on her ear as he leaned close, “Do you remember the last time you asked me that question?”

His voice was low, husky.

The implication sent shivers along Cwen’s spine. Just as it had while riding in the fields outside of Aegelesburg, she felt her body stir.

They stayed quiet as they walked, both feeling the rising thrill in their energy.

Cwen tried to keep her breathing steady while her heart began beating steadily faster and faster. The feel of Sihtric’s movements against her as they walked gave her shivers, every place where his skin brushed hers leaving trails of gooseflesh.

Eventually, they moved off of the main road and began to cross onto hunting trails, through woods and fields. It may have been along the route they had come to Winchester. That seemed ages ago and had been in such haste, Cwen thought she would have no idea if she had been through this way before. And there was no way she could focus clearly on her surroundings with the anticipation of being with Sihtric again.

Finally, he stopped walking and Cwen took in their surroundings.

They were at the edge of a low lying glen, leading up to a small hill crested with trees. The glen was carpeted with tiny white and violet-blue flowers, all migling together. Cwen breathed deep, enjoying the musty aroma of the woods to their backs, earthy and solid. She tried to slow her pounding heart.

“I told you I wished to cherish you, Cwen,” Sihtric pulled her body flush against his before cupping her face, “and I mean to do just that.”

His lips ghosted across hers before he moved to nip underneath her ear, his tongue languidly tasting her skin in between gentle kisses down her neck.

“Sihtric,” she moaned out his name, her hands grasping hungrily at his hips and pulling him even closer to her.

“I will never grow tired of hearing you moan my name,” he whispered against her collarbone.

His fingers found their way up from her waist to begin undoing the laces at her collar, before moving the fabric apart to reveal the skin of her chest.

Despite the heat of the late summer, his fingers left goosebumps dancing along the trails they made, slowly fanning their way over to caress one of her breasts.

Cwen sighed as his kisses continued along her neck and his fingers lightly pinched at her erect nipple.

She could feel the swell in his trousers bulging against her hips and longed for more.

Slowly, she reached her hand down from his hip to cup along his length.

The groan her movements brought forth from him flushed Cwen with a sense of pride that she could cause him to make such noises.

“Mmmm, woman,” he growled, “I planned to be making these noises come from you,” but Cwen interrupted him.

“And what if I wish to show you how I cherish you too?”

Sihtric leaned back on his heels to stare at Cwen. Her shy smile and mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

In an instant, his mouth was on hers. All sense of calm replaced by fire.

Both sets of fingers fought to undo the buckles and ties holding cloth against skin.

All the pain, all the terror over the past weeks. Separated by barriers and words. All of the emotions of the heart came crashing out against each other.

Swiftly, Cwen slid her dress down from her shoulders to pool at her feet, leaving her chest bare and only a thin underskirt draped off of her curving hips.

Sihtric, breathing heavily, stood back to admire her form, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist up to the slope of her breasts.

While his hands roamed her body, Cwen undid the lacing holding his bracers and leathers on, removing them deftly.

Smoothly, he lifted his arms and pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it in the grass by their feet, only to then drop to his knees, peppering kisses along her abdomen while his hands reached behind her to grasp and gently knead her bottom.

Cwen sucked in a breath as the feel of heat pooled deep in her core, mingled with a throbbing pull at her opening. She wanted to feel him touch her there.

She ran her fingers along his head, nails scratching along his scalp, before he tilted his face up to hers to see the passion burning in her eyes.

“Come here, Cwen.” His voice was deep and sensual, causing another thrill to ripple through her swollen womanhood.

She slid her body down to meet him, feeling his lips trailing up now, to find her nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue against the hard nub. His hands bunched at her skirt, pulling it up around her as she lowered herself.

Once she was on her knees, he brought his face to hers, kissing her lips once more while growling, “Lay back for me.”

Cwen lowered herself back, while Sihtric’s body, hard and strong, loomed over her, sheltering her, enveloping her.

Again, he brought his lips to her skin, licking and sucking gently at the dips and shallows of her neck and shoulders.

She shuddered when his hands left the skirt, now rumpled around her waist to trail down her hip. He had slowed their pace once more, gradually bringing his fingers to rub against her swollen center. Slow, short strokes followed by an even slower long stroke circling the moist opening of her slit.

She moaned and arched under his hands, yearning for more but relishing the feel of his hands on her.

Slowly, his kisses moved lower, back to her nipple, drawing circles around it before he continued even lower.

Cwen opened her eyes, when he sat up, removing his hand from her wetness.

Sihtric leaned back on his knees and shifted Cwen’s hips as she watched him eye her hungrily.

He began to lean down to her, his breath hot and heavy on her aching core.

“Sihtric, what are you,” but her words were replaced with a rasping moan as she felt his tongue on her. He trailed his tongue up from the dripping moisture of her slit to press and flick against the nub of her sex making her gasp outloud.

Sihtric looked up to meet her eye, now sucking at the nerves before he answered, “I am cherishing my woman, every part of her.” And he then moved back to lap at her with the flat of his tongue.

Licking her lips, Cwen felt as her hips unconsciously rose to meet his actions, continuing the slow rhythm his fingers had started. Slow and small strokes followed by a longer stroke, the pressure always building then pulling back as he pulled her to the edge.

When he brought his fingers to her opening and slowly pushed one then another inside, Cwen felt herself arch and moan his name.

Her fingers found themselves raking through his hair as he moved his fingers inside her, matching the rhythm of his tongue.

Cwen felt herself rising to the edge, “Sihtric,” she groaned while his actions became faster, matching the pumping of her hips rising to meet him.

And she came undone, her legs tensing and squeezing as he brought her to her high.

When she opened her eyes, he had moved his face to stare at her, but was continuing the motions of his fingers, still feeling her clench around him.

“You are the most beautiful woman,” he whispered, his voice deep with lust.

“Can you take me?”

Noiselessly, Cwen nodded, holding her arms out for him to come to her.

He moved, lithe as a cat, to bring his face to hers, kissing her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and feel her own moisture in his beard.

Cwen slipped her fingers between his pants and his hips and slid them down with his help to release his bulge. He rolled off of her just long enough to slide his trousers off completely, before he was on her once more, his manhood hard and ready for her.

Guiding himself to her entrance, Cwen shifted her hips to better meet him.

As he pushed himself inside her, she met his eyes. He filled her completely, pushing into the hilt before he paused to kiss her. Then slowly again, their bodys began rocking together in a rhythm building steadily. Her small moans and noises driving him to push harder.

He built her up once more, feeling her body tensing beneath him ready to crash in ecstasy. Cwen cried out his name once more when he pushed her over the edge, feeling her walls clench him tight driving his own climax to follow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They lay in the grass, a tangle of limbs as their breathing returned to normal. Cwen found her hand in Sihtric’s as he toyed with her fingers, weaving them together with his. He brought her hand up to place a gentle kiss on her thumb.

“Be my wife, Cwen.”

Surprised, Cwen turned her face to watch him. He was focused on their fingers, still lacing them gently together.

He continued after a moment's pause, “I want you for my woman. My wife. From now until the end of days. I told you that all of my roads will lead me to you, Cwen. And I meant it. You are warm and kind. You are brave. And you make me happy. Happier than any warrior deserves to be.

His words were strong. Sure.

Cwen felt her eyes prickle as tears formed, blurring her vision. She blinked to clear them away as she saw Sihtric’s head turn to look at her.

“Will you be my wife, Cwen?”

Smiling, Cwen nodded her head furiously, “Yes, Sihtric, I will be your wife.”

Grinning, Sihtric rolled Cwen on top of him and kissed her, deeply before he pulled away.

Still smiling, he laughed, “Then I have something I need to give to you.”

Cwen moved herself off of him as he reached into his pants, reaching into a small pocket, hidden in the waist.

He pulled out a tiny pouch. He emptied the pouch into his palm. It contained a small golden ring. Simple and delicate, with just a few markings and designs along the band.

“This belonged to my mother. It is the only possession I have from her. Before my father,” he glanced at Cwen before he continued, “before he killed her, she gave this to me. She knew he would find out about what she had been doing to help the children of Dunhilm. And she wanted for me to have this. She has been the only woman to ever hold my heart. Until now. And I want you to have it.”

Cwen was speechless as he placed it in her palm, before closing her fingers over it and kissing her hand.

The tears she had been able to stem before, now ran freely along her cheeks. Gingerly, she opened her hand and picked up the ring. She slid it onto her finger and it fit perfectly.

“She would have loved you,” Sihtric added, wrapping his arms around Cwen and resting his forehead against hers.

“Thank you, Sihtric. I will treasure it and hope to honor her by wearing it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they were getting dressed and beginning their walk back towards Winchester, Cwen gasped.

“Wait, won’t we need Uhtred’s approval to marry? When will you ask him?” Laughing, Sihtric took her hand, “I have already asked him, love. It is what I wished to speak with him about this morning.”

“Oh you planned all of this then?”

“I did”

“Oh you are quite the romantic, my soon-to-be husband.”

Sihtric chuckled once more along with Cwen, “I guess I am.”

As they continued walking, Cwen asked, “So what did Uhtred say when you asked him?” “He said that I would be a fool not to marry you.”

Sihtric pulled her close, kissing her temple as they walked, “And he is right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Tags: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world @evelynshelby @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @trenko-heart @0hsappho

#fields of wildflowers #sihtric #sihtric x oc #the last kingdom #fanfiction #tlkfanficfestbingo #tlk fanfic #axe card #finan #sihtric kjartansson #uhtred

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kimjihyun-archive · 3 years

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RFA (+ V AND SAERAN) WARDROBE HEADCANONS

zen would definitely be a simple outfit kinda guy. he doesn’t wear a lot of flashy clothes because if we’re gonna be real?? he doesn’t need to. probably can’t really afford a lot of super elegant outfits in the beginning of the game, but even as his career progresses, he tends to dress the same. he likes simple colors, a lot of darks and a lot of lights (big fan of gray. huge) and he loves that leather jacket. he owns a lot of cool tones and tends to stick with them. if he’s really feeling up to it, he’ll incorporate bits and pieces of costumes he wore into his outfits once the production ends. always carries his phone, loves to wear a watch. probably not too too big on jewelry in his day-to-day life, but he’s more than happy to put it on when he’s going out.

yoosung loves light colors. his outfits are also usually pretty simple (he doesn’t have the time, nor the money to really do anything else) but he somehow manages to throw together outfits that kinda work?? he ends up mixing a lot of colors and patterns in really unconventional ways since he really just grabs whatever’s clean, but they suit him in his own little way. most of his clothes tend to remain in his closet way past their lifetime and it can be assumed that his socks have holes in them at least 90% of the time. he would have lolol merch if he had the money. it would look awful.

jaehee loves big sweaters. probably a cable-knit enthusiast. there’s a huge separation between what she wears at work and what she wears at home. tries to be as well-put-together as possible when she’s working since she knows damn well she’s gonna end up on the news, but at home she tends to stick to really simple styles. big on small and dainty jewelry (always gold if she had a say) and definitely has a few necklaces that she treasures. her work clothes always go to the dry cleaners on time and everything in her closet is hung up neatly at all times. folds beautifully.

jumin is probably the most obvious one here. never picks out his own clothes—he pays his stylist for a reason. loves those three piece suits. you will never see him in casual wear (the closest he gets is when he rolls up his sleeves) and the employees at C&R are convinced that he sleeps in a suit. he doesn’t wear a ton of jewelry, but he probably wears a watch that he got from his dad. would wear anything you buy him without shame though. he does not care. knows he looks good and he’s great at emphasizing that. never wears anything that isn’t designer. he has to look professional after all. his clothes are always spotless, save for a cat hair or two.

saeyoung does not care what he looks like. he can put together some really nice outfits if he tries, but considering he spends most of the day at his computer, he’s definitely more driven by comfort than anything else. has a ton of big sweatshirts and jeans (they’re never in his closet though. probably picks them out of the hamper or clean off the floor) and owns a surprising amount of sneakers. he hates wearing shoes at home though, probably insists on ‘letting his toes breathe.’ none of his socks match, but none of them are ripped either. owns a ton of jewelry but really doesn’t wear it unless he’s dressing up.

jihyun is the biggest turtleneck enthusiast you will ever meet. loves simple colors and earth tones. wears a lot of black to exhibitions to keep the focus on the art. very basic in his colors and outfit choices, but always elegant. probably owns a silk up button-up or two. he loves to layer and never knows what to wear in the summer. also not a huge jewelry fan, but he likes to wear little things that are hand made!! he definitely makes some rings and bracelets in his free time and if you match them with him he will never take them off. designed his entire closet based on keeping attention away from himself. disgustingly color coordinated. artist king <33

saeran makes sure his clothes are entirely comfort based. he didn’t get to choose any of his own outfits for a long time and a lot of them were really scratchy and tight. he likes sleeves that stretch over his hands and soft materials that feel nice. he loves neutral tones and colors that really go with anything. he doesn’t wear any jewelry (he just doesn’t really like it) and he tends to wear cold-weather outfits all year round since he can never seem to warm up. definitely a fan of button ups. they’re airy and he just thinks they’re neat :)

formatting is a mix of my need to be a whore for aesthetics and an unintentional inspiration from @rfadaydreaming (hi i adore u i hope that’s alright!!)

#mysme headcanons #mystic messenger headcanons #hyun ryu #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #jihyun kim #v mystic messenger #saeran choi #mystic messenger #i got like halfway through these and then realized the formatting and gkdhgkdghd

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amerrierworld · 3 years

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Not a total frickin’ idiot

For the request: R x Daphne Kluger. R being a part of the original Heist Crew and also being the one Daphne approaches. They’re super flirty w/ each other and everyone knows that they like each other except themselves.

Summary: You thought you had gone unnoticed at the Met, but Miss Kluger never forgets a face.

Characters: Daphne Kluger x fem!reader, the Ocean’s team

Word Count: 1,657

Warnings: swearing!? Do i still have to put a warning for that? idk

If you had learned anything about diva actress Daphne Kluger from Rose, it was that you don’t speak unless spoken to first.

And considering she didn’t talk to you at all during the heist, you were able to get around the entire night never uttering a single word to her, fulfilling your role on the team without any kind of hiccup.

So you were quite surprised when she had slid into your booth at your favourite coffee shop, giant sunglasses and a fashionable sunhat masking her face. You looked up from your phone and were about to comment about your booth being taken until you recognized her.

Your mouth hung open a little bit as she took off the hat and glasses. Her lips were painted a deep red and her outfit was impeccable, as always.

“Say..” she immediately said, pearly whites nearly blinding you as she smiled, “you were at the Met, weren't you?”

“I- I’m sorry?” you began. “I don’t know-”

“Oh my god! You totally were! You were wearing that adorable dress. Gosh, you looked so good.”

You were blushing hard, because in a matter of barely a minute, Daphne Kluger, gorgeous movie star, had called you adorable and good-looking all in the same sentence.

“I was there too- well, obviously you know that,” she chuckled, “and I was wearing that beautiful diamond necklace, don’t you remember? It was all over the news. Especially when I supposedly lost it.”

“O-oh? Right, y-yes I remember reading about it in the news..”

“And you know.. I couldn’t help but wonder how weird my designer was acting all night. And that lady in the black from the staff, who found my necklace? You’d almost think they were acting.”

You were almost as pale as a sheet at this point, gripping your cup in shaking fingers.

“And you know what’s funny? I saw you talking to both of them during the night. I mean, how couldn’t I notice? You looked so gorgeous, almost like you were asking me to see you.”

You gulped, “I do not know what you’re talking about, Miss Kluger-”

“Just call me Daphne,” she leaned forward, lips spread in a feline smile, elbows resting on the table and propping her head up on her hands.

“Y/N, right? I asked for your name from the guest list, I hope you don’t mind. They let me in on those sorts of things anyways.”

“That’s me,” you replied.

“Do you know Debbie Ocean? Of course you do, you two also seemed pretty close all night, hm? You’re lucky I was the only one who noticed.”

“What?”

“I’ve been approached by an investigator who seems really interested in her because the uh, necklace turned out to be a fake.”

You tried to pretend to be surprised at the news, but you couldn’t muster it, and Daphne looked at you knowingly.

“Luckily, I didn’t tell him any of your names, because I wasn’t sure if I was right. But you just confirmed all my suspicions anyways, so..”

“Are you threatening me?” you narrowed your eyes at her, and she gasped in mock offence.

“Of course not!” she leaned forward, giving you ample view of her cleavage, hand trailing over yours,

“I’m seducing you, Y/N.”

You didn’t know what to say as she looked at you with those deep, telling eyes. Her own eyes flickered appreciatively over your features, and you wondered if she was checking you out or if she was simply acting.

A small group of fans approached the table, chittering and blushing at the sight of Daphne Kluger in a meagre coffee shop such as this one. She smiled amicably, accepting their compliments and giving them autographs, before saying,

“You’re all so sweet, but do you think you’d be able to let my girlfriend and I have some privacy for the rest of our date? Thaanks,” she waved as the fans rushed off, gasping and gossiping amongst themselves at the prospect of the Daphne Kluger having a girlfriend.

“Girlfriend?” you asked once you found your voice again. She only grinned and winked at you.

“Oh, don’t be like that baby. Now, are you gonna tell me about the necklace, or what?” she sipped your drink and your mouth went dry.

“Chilly,” Daphne remarked at the glances given by the rest of the group, “what about, ‘Hi Daph, welcome to the team. Let’s not all high five at once.’”

You chewed your lip, bounced your leg, avoided her gaze altogether, and tried very hard not to look at how good she looked in her black dress. You were sitting across from the couch where she had plopped down, hunched in the metal framed chair.

“Why’d y’let her get to you, Y/N. I told you not to draw attention to yourself!” Rose said to you, after you and Debbie had explained how Daphne had found you, recognized you and called out the plan. You, being the newbie in the ways of criminality, could barely think of a cover up and ended up bringing her to Debbie with a spluttering confession.

“She didn’t,” Daphne’s eyes were locked on yours, “I just noticed her myself.”

You blushed a little and looked away. Debbie looked at you apologetically, knowing you felt put on the spot.

“Plus,” Daphne continued, “I am the one who is saving your asses from insurance fraud, okay?”

The team burst into shock, responses flying left and right.

“I-I was gonna get to that,” you said hastily, eyeing Debbie, who stepped in,

“It seems that they’ve assigned an insurance investigator-”

“Who’s about to look up your asses with a flashlight,” Daphne pointed out.

“Who?”

"Oh, this little Columbo dude, everything but the trench coat, totally on to you.”

“His name is John Frasier,” Debbie said.

"Wha- you know him?” Amita spluttered in disbelief.

“Yes, he busted my father twice, my brother once.”

“He’s family,” Lou added.

“Lest we forget, this entire enterprise was to keep me out of jail,” Rose interrupted, worry etched on her face.

“No one is going to jail,” Lou assured her.

“We expected this, we prepared for this,” said Debbie. Not many of the team seemed to believe her, with Nineball adding,

“Yup... that’s clear.”

“We will not be the prime suspect,” Debbie said sternly.

"Then who will be?”

“Well,” you added, “we’ve got the security guys, the busboys-”

“...The shady guy who put you away,” Tammy sighed, arching an eyebrow at Debbie, who could barely contain the smirk on her face. Daphne stared at her incredulously,

“..the boyfriend.”

"Mhm,” Debbie replied, “they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

Lou nodded in approval, adding a faint, “that’s nice.”

"Thanks.”

“Wow... that is amazing,” Daphne grinned, chewing her gum in delight, “the precision, right? It’s always the attention to detail and the little grace notes that really make something sing.”

A short silence followed. Glances were cast between the rest of you, wondering what on earth had gotten into Daphne’s head.

“...Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, clearly dumbfounded by this multi-millionaire actress dropping into their party. Daphne stilled for a moment, her eyes flickering to you for a second before saying,

“I.. don’t have that many close female friendships. Plus bookclubs are the worst, so I just thought y’know... could be something fun to share?”

“You’re becoming a criminal because you’re lonely?”

“...Who isn’t sometimes, right?”

"Are you an only child?” you asked her. Her silence told you enough.

The team seemed to accept at that point that Daph was there to stay, so they went about their usual business.

“Beer?” Lou offered you, which you immediately said yes to, feeling a little woozy after that whole experience.

Tammy went to the kitchen and opened another pizza box, and you went to grab a slice for yourself before calculating your next move carefully, hoping your brain wouldn’t short circuit as you grabbed another slice and headed to where Daphne was sitting by herself.

You sat next to her, very very awkwardly, and offered her the paper plate.

“Aw, thanks,” she smiled, cheering up a little, “you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be nice to me because you feel bad for me. Look, I’m sorry I cornered you the other day. I didn’t mean to seem desperate or whatever.”

“You- you didn’t seem desperate,” you frowned, “and I don’t feel bad for you. Whatever gave you that idea?”

She looked at you with a mouthful of pizza, and made an exasperated gesture to your whole surroundings, indicating the events that had just occurred. She also didn’t want you to know how she had been dying for your attention the minute she had seen you at the Met.

“Oh, well, I mean, I think your reasoning was perfectly justified,” you cocked your head at her and smiled. Then you lifted your pizza and said,

“to crime!”

The rest of the group cheered and replied with the same phrase, lifting their beers or pizza with glee. Daphne blushed at the exclamation.

“Now you,” you said, nodding encouragingly.

“What?”

“Do it! If you’re gonna be a part of the Ocean’s team, you gotta get with the rituals.”

“Rituals?” Daphne scoffed. But then she saw your dopey smile and sparkling eyes, and her insides melted. She delicately lifted the pizza and said,

“to crime!”

You laughed and sipped your beer.

“Ten bucks says they’re dating by next week,” Nineball said in the kitchen, peering into the fridge.

“I say by the weekend,” Constance offered.

“Idiots,” Rose shook her head. “If tonight is gonna keep up like this, I say by the morning.”

They eyed you and Daphne chatting away on the couch, completely forgetting about everyone else.

“Not so lonely anymore I guess,” Tammy smiled.

“Told you, crime’s good for many things,” Debbie nudged her and smiled at Lou, who rolled her eyes playfully.

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 3 years

Text

all wrapped up for you

summary: you’d do anything for your best friend, even if that means helping him buy the perfect gift for the person he truly likes.

word count: 3k

note from the writer: day three! make sure to check back for the next nine fics! / masterpost of the Christmas fics

tagging: @bqstqnbruin @broadstbroskis @laurenairay @calgarycanuck @justjosty @sorryjustafangirl @tayella13 @wastedheartcth @kiedhara @writinghockey / add yourself to my Christmas fics taglist

You really wished you were better at telling Anthony no. Wished you had taken up your friend’s offer to get brunch so you had an excuse to say you were busy on Saturday. Wished you weren’t so gone for him that the moment he said he needed help you didn’t clear your calendar.

Because now you were stuck helping the guy you were practically in love with buy a gift for someone else.

He showed up to your apartment half an hour earlier, before you had even gotten dressed for the day, and let himself into your apartment as if he owned the place. You couldn’t be mad, truly, because you had given him a key and it was far from the first time he had done so.

“Are you ready?” Anthony asked excitedly, making his way into your kitchen where you were putting your now empty mug in the sink. You rolled your eyes, grin tugging at your lips as you turned to face him and gestured to the baggy t-shirt and old shorts you slept in.

“Does it look like I’m ready, Beau?” You questioned teasingly, watching as he sighed dramatically with a grin that rivaled yours. A thought crossed your mind then, one that dampened your mood and you bit your lip to try and stop yourself from voicing it, but it was too little too late and suddenly you were speaking without your permission. “You must really like this girl if you’re showing up early and trying to drag me out of here.”

“Yeah, I do.” Anthony responded easily, and thankfully his back was turned as he dug through your cupboards for something to snack on so he didn’t see the way your face fell and shoulders slumped. You hurt your own feelings with that comment, the dreaminess in his words tugging at your heart. You wanted nothing more than to be his, but if you couldn't have him, you at least wanted him to be happy.

“I’m going to go change.” You murmured, and if Anthony picked on the sudden change in your tone he didn’t say anything. The time it took for you to get dressed and put the final touches on your outfit gave you the break you needed to collect yourself and your thoughts.

You knew the next few hours were going to be rough; you’d be spending time with Anthony, which you always looked forward to, but it’d come with a cost. That cost being helping him get the perfect gift for the person he had feelings for. The person who was, very clearly, not you.

“Ready?” You questioned as you emerged from your bedroom to find Anthony sitting on your couch waiting patiently. He jumped to his feet, clearly anxious to get started, and you tried your best to chase away any and all thoughts regarding your current predicament with him.

If he asked your help, then you’d give it to him.

“So, what are we thinking? Jewelry? Perfume? Shoes?” You asked the moment you entered the department store he had taken you to. Glancing up to him, you couldn’t help but laugh at the bewildered look on his face, clearly unsure of where to start.

“Is that stuff you would like?” He turned to face you, brows furrowed and for a moment he caught you off guard. This was a dangerous game, picking out stuff you would like only to have Anthony turn around and buy it for someone else. But he looked so completely lost and out of his element that you forced a tight smile and curled your hand around his bicep to lead him further into the store.

“Do you know her sizes? Shoes could be nice, or we can look at jewelry if you want it to be more romantic.” You mused, pulling him towards the shoe section to start. Even if he wanted to look for other stuff, you could still buy yourself something nice. Maybe you’d get something out of this trip other than your own hurt feelings and the confirmation that he definitely did not feel the same about it. A little retail therapy never hurt, right?

“She’s about your size, yeah.” He told you, certain in his tone despite not giving you a solid answer. You tried to stop yourself from running through the list of people Anthony hung out with that were roughly your size, but you came up short, certain that he would have told you if it was one of your mutual friends.

“Maybe we should look at perfumes, then.” You steered him away from the clothing section. If he didn’t know her exact sizes, then you didn’t want him to get her something that didn’t fit. Standing in front of the display shelf full of perfume, you getsured for Anthony to take his pick.

“Isn’t this the kind you wear?” He asked, grabbing a bottle off the shelf and spraying it. You shot him a look, unsure of why he would know that and how he was able to pick it out easily. It wasn’t as if he had smelt it and recognized it; he had picked it up off the shelf completely unprompted. Part of you wanted to melt at his words, to overthink and hurt your own feelings once more, but you shoved that part aside.

“And you know that, how?” You asked, grabbing the bottle out of his hands and putting it back on the shelf. There was absolutely no way he was going to be getting the same perfume you wore for some other girl.

“I don’t know, I’ve seen you getting ready for nights out too many times, I guess.” He said with a shrug, but you would have sworn you saw a blush on his cheeks. He turned away from you before you could be certain, and you were left standing in front of the shelf of perfume confused while Anthony wandered off to the counter full of different types of jewelry. “Jewelry is romantic, right?”

“Yeah, what are you thinking?” You confirmed, trying not to seem as defeated as you were by his choice of words. He was looking for a romantic gift, a gift that was not for you and you were helping him pick it out.

“I don’t know, what do you like?” He questioned, looking over the case of rings, bracelets, earrings and necklaces with confusion. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how lost he looked, and it was that tiny bit of pity that had you turning to look at the jewelry to pick out something you liked.

“I think those necklaces are really pretty.” You hummed, pointing out a row of beautiful gold chains with different pendants and designs. They weren’t overly gaudy but strikingly simple, and they had caught your eye almost immediately.

“The diamond ones?” Anthony questioned, looking to the rack just next to the one you had been pointing to. Shaking your head, your head, you moved closer so that the necklaces were in reach. They truly were a gift you’d love to receive, and it stung a bit that Anthony might be buying one for someone other than you.

“No, not necessarily. I don’t think the price tag matters, but maybe something a little more personal, you know?” You explained, your fingers brushing over the dainty gold chains absentmindedly. Glancing up, you noticed a far away look in his eyes as he studied you and most definitely not the jewelry you were showing him. “Beau?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Anthony said quietly, like he was having a completely different conversation that you were unaware of. You gave him a confused look, but chose not to question him. Your heart was hammering in your chest as a result of the way he was looking at you, a soft smile on his lips and a look that was too similar to adoration in his eyes. All too soon, though, his gaze drifted over your shoulder as if searching for something. “What about that?”

“A candle?” You asked, following his gaze to the section of seasonal and decorative candles. Anthony nodded, a slight flush to his cheeks as he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the jewelry and to the candles. “Beau, you asked me to come along for gift ideas but you haven’t listened to a single thing I’ve suggested.”

“Just trust me on this? I promise she’ll like this.” He assured you, though he didn’t sound all too convinced. Candles weren’t the most romantic gift, certainly not as much as the jewelry and perfume you had just been looking at, but he had the advantage of knowing who you were shopping for.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you told me who she is. Have I met her before?” You questioned, grabbing the first candle off the shelf and smelling it. You were trying to act inconspicuous, but you were dying for information.

“Yeah, but I’m not telling you.” He said, a bashful look on his face as he avoided your gaze and examined the candles as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. He must have felt the weight of your stare, because he shot you a mischievous smile that nearly knocked the wind out of you. “It’s a secret.”

“Does Barzy know?” You challenged, picking up another candle and inspecting it as a way to try and seem less interested than you were in Anthony’s love life.

“That’s not important.”

“So he does.” You stated, a victorious smile on your lips despite the way your heart raced at the thought of getting closer to finding out who had Anthony all worked up. Maybe it would be best if you didn’t know who it was, to live in blissful ignorance for a little while longer, but you had never been the best at preserving your own feelings. Hence the reason you had agreed to spend your free Saturday helping Anthony buy a gift for someone else. “Come on, why won’t you tell me?”

“How does this smell?” He dodged the question, grabbing the closest candle and holding it up to your face to get your opinion. You gave him a curious look, but otherwise dropped the subject and focused on the apple cinnamon scented candle he held.

“Here, try this one instead.” You sighed, handing him the candle you had previously been testing. With a heavy heart, you watched as he gave the candle sniff before looking to you for guidance. “Wisteria and jasmine, it’s supposed to be a romantic combination. I’m sure she’ll love that, whoever she is.”

“Yeah,” Anthony started, watching you with the same adoring look in his eyes that made your heart race. “Whoever she is.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty satisfaction as you watched Anthony hand the candle to the cashier, because even though some other girl would be getting his attention along with that gift, at least it wasn’t something entirely too romantic.

It was a few days until Anthony finally came around to your place again. He had told you that he needed to come over and give you his gift, because he was supposed to be heading back home to see his family soon and wanted you to have it before he left. Your present for him was sitting on your kitchen table, a nice leather wallet wrapped and ready to be exchanged, and when he finally knocked on your door you jumped to your feet to let him in.

He was nervous, you could tell from the way that he knocked instead of letting himself in and how he rushed past you with little more than a quiet ‘hello’ and a kiss pressed to your forehead. With a furrowed brow, you shut your apartment door and followed after him into your living room, where instead of making himself at home on your couch like he usually did, he was pacing the length of the room.

“Beau, are you alright?” He stopped at the sound of your voice, and spun to face you a little too quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just dragged his hand through his hair and nodded despite looking anything but alright.

“Here’s your present.” He blurted, holding out a wide, flat box. Definitely not a candle. It was evident that he had wrapped it himself, you could see how much tape he used and how the folds were less than neat, but you smiled happily all the same.

“Let me go get your gift, and we can open them together—” You started, but Anthony shook his head quickly to shoot down the idea.

“No, you need to open yours first.” He said decidedly. You didn’t put up an argument, and instead took the box he was extending towards you and settling down on the couch. Anthony stayed standing, and you tried not to let that unnerve you, but something was going on with him.

After unwrapping the present, you opened the lid of the box to find a familiar blue and orange jersey inside. With a chuckle, you lifted the fabric up to better read the name and number on the back of the jersey. Beavullier, number eighteen. It was a running joke between the two of you, that somehow you, his good luck charm, didn’t even own one of his jerseys.

“Thanks, Beau.” You smiled genuinely, but before Anthony could say anything in response your gaze caught on something else in the box with the jersey. It was a smaller, black box that you instantly recognized as one for jewelry. Your breath caught in your throat and you glanced up to Anthony, but he was just watching you with a nearly unreadable look in his eyes.

You opened the box, a shocked grin instantly making its way onto your face as you saw the dainty gold chain and the tiny circular pendant of the necklace. You remembered it as one of the necklaces you had pointed out to him in the department store.

“You said personal.” Anthony said quietly as you brushed the pad of your finger across the lowercase ‘a’ engraved on the pendant. You felt your heart skip three beats at the realization of what the ‘a’ meant. It was for Anthony. He was giving you a necklace with his initial on it.

And he had you convinced that he was terrible at buying romantic gifts.

“Yeah, I did.” You replied just as quietly, carefully setting the boxes on the coffee table before standing and crossing the short distance to where he was standing in your living room anxiously. “Who is the other girl, Beau?”

“There isn’t another girl. Never was, never will be.” He confessed, his hands slowly finding purchase on your waist as you stepped closer to him with each word that passed his lips. Your heart was hammering in your chest, but a thin veil of confusion still covered you. Regardless, your hands fell to his chest, and you could feel the rapid beat of his own heart under your palm.

“Why’d you buy the candle that day, then?” You questioned, because for the past few days you had done nothing but think about how he bought another gift for another girl. Anthony smiled sheepishly, ducking his head slightly in nerves.

“I couldn’t exactly buy your gift with you right there, now could I?” He explained and you couldn’t help the chuckle that fell past your lips then at his comment.

“What’d you do with it?” You were teasing him then, simply bidding time until the conversation that you felt was inevitable came. The one where you finally told Anthony how you felt, the one where he, hopefully, said he felt the same.

“Gave it to Barzy. He really appreciated you picking out the scent, by the way. Said it was exactly what he was looking for.” He mumbled, his head dropping lower and lower in search of a kiss you wouldn’t hesitate to give him. He was teasing, buying time for you to pull back but you stayed still, tilting your chin up slightly in a bid to get him to finally connect your lips.

“Well, tell him I said you’re welcome.” You grinned, shaking your head in mirth at their close friendship. It was then that Anthony closed the gap between you and him, your hands moving of their own accord to hold his face as he kissed you with everything he had. It was a little dizzying, to finally have his lips on yours after so long spent dreaming of this moment. Even when you pulled back ever so slightly to breathe, it was clear both of you had smiles that would last for days.

“Besides, I needed to take you shopping to see what you liked. Pretty smart, eh?” He grinned, clearly proud of himself. You rolled your eyes playfully at his comment, but he only tugged you closer to him until you were flush against his front.

“Beau, I’ve spent the past week and a half thinking you had feelings for someone else. You could have played it a little smarter.” You teased, shifting so your arms were wrapped loosely around his neck. His expression flickered then, to one a bit more serious and he was looking at you with a sincerity in his eyes that would have made you melt, if his kiss hadn’t already done so.

“So, you like me too?” He questioned, and though his wording felt a little juvenile you nodded honestly, your gaze shifting to match his.

“Wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t.” You told him, tilting your chin up in search of another kiss that Anthony wasted no time in giving you. “And I definitely wouldn’t have done it again.”

“Do you want to put on the necklace? I want to see you with my initial.” He commented, a little cheekily but mostly happily. You nodded, slowly slipping from his arms to pick up the box you had set on the coffee table. With a sly smile of your own, you asked;

“Help me put it on?”

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