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yourgothiccqueen · 2 months

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LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”

Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.

Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”

“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”

Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.

“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”

“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.

Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.

“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”

“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”

Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”

—————————————————————-

By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.

Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.

It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.

Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.

“Perfect.”

Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.

“Ermmm, what are you doing?”

Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.

“I’m eating my hot dog.”

The man smirked and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.

“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.

“I’m here for the race. Are you?”

The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”

A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”

“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”

The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.

“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”

“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.

The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.

“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”

Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”

He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”

Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.

“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.

“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”

The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”

He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.

Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?

His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.

God he had beautiful eyes.

She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.

He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?

“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.

“Oh!”

The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”

She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”

The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).

“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”

An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.

“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”

“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.

A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”

“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”

———————————————————

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.

“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”

Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!

“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.

The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.

Y/N’s own grin left her face.

“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”

“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”

“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.

Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”

Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”

Annie stared. No words left her mouth.

Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”

A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.

“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N could feel herself cringing.

“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”

She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.

“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.

“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.

Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,

Hello Grumpy,

I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.

LN xx

“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.

Y/N grinned.

“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”

#lando norris #landonorris #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando Norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando Norris oneshot #lando Norris imagine #lando Norris fanfic #FYP #lando Norris x female reader #f1 imagine #lando Norris x you #f1 smut #lando Norris fluff

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strawberrysins · 1 year

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Flowers (Alastor x fem!reader)

Warnings: Female reader, feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, and FLUFF. SO MUCH FLUFF.

(A/N: So uhhhh, this is late. the worst part is that I wrote this months ago, I just completely forgot about it. Sorry this is so late, I didn't remember that I had written this Valentine's Day oneshot until I was looking through my drafts. Anway, I hope you enjoy it!)

Valentine's day. The day to hold your loved ones close and tell them how much you care for them. Alastor always thought of this as a stupid holiday that corporations probably came up with just to make their consumers feel like they have to spend excessive amounts of money just to prove how much they love each other. Plus, he found the idea of having a day to show your beloved how much they meant to you silly. Shouldn’t you do that every day? The whole concept seemed off to him.

That was until he fell for you. He still didn’t like the corporations part, but having an excuse just to throw gifts and hugs and everything amazing at you for a whole day? You didn’t have to tell him twice! Plus, he knew you liked the holiday, with your cheerful and frankly adorable personality and all. But of course, being the “heartless” man he was, he had never bought anybody a valentine’s day gift. Meaning, that when the day drew near, he had no clue what to get you. He could always ask Charlie, but he was a little embarrassed too. The feared Radio Demon asking what to get his girlfriend for valentine’s day? Preposterous! He was honestly, a little terrified to ask Angel, knowing he would get a less-than-savory response. Vaggie would know, but she and him weren’t exactly on the best of terms. And the others probably wouldn’t know any more than him. Honestly, the only person he would feel comfortable asking a more intimate question, such as this, would be you. But obviously, he couldn’t do that. So, he resorted to the next best thing, spying! He and his shadows lurked in dark corners and allies as they watched the common people of hell collect things to gift to their lovers. He noted the most common things, such as sweets, stuffed animals, and jewelry. He also saw a lot of red and pink, along with hearts. Unfortunately for him, not the actual organ, but the heart symbol. If he could just rip out someone’s heart to give to you, that would be much simpler! But of course, nothing was that easy.

The one thing that he noticed every demon had though, was flowers of some sort. Almost always roses. This was a problem for him. He knew you adored flowers, and he would LOVE to see your face light up as he handed you some of your favorites. But, he was cursed with wilting any flower he came close to. This power was never a problem, in fact, he found it quite amusing, until now. He couldn’t give you a wilted flower. He knew that. He thought that he would be very appreciative of one, should he be gifted it, but he knew that you wouldn’t. You and him just found flowers beautiful in different ways. Giving you fake flowers almost seemed insulting. And he didn’t want them to be delivered straight to you, because then he would never get to see your reaction. Plus, he wants to make sure every gift you receive is perfect, and he can’t inspect the flowers to make sure they are, so he would be left at the mercy of the person arranging them. He couldn’t even watch from afar, as sometimes even looking at them was enough to completely drain them of all their life and color. He loathed the idea of seeing your precious smile fall after seeing your beautiful flowers die right in front of your eyes. So what was he to do?

He was panicking about this for the three days leading up to valentines day. A valentines day gift simply wasn’t complete without flowers it seemed. But he physically couldn’t hand you them, or even look at them. But a man HAD to give a woman flowers that befit her beauty. But he simply couldn’t. But he would sooner be caught playing modern video games than giving you a subpar gift for valentines day. He was really starting to freak out about this! So, he came to only one conclusion. He would simply have to give your more of all the other stuff to make up for it!

He spent the whole day before finding the most extravagant and beautiful gifts for you. Only the best of gifts for the best of women! The finest and most expensive chocolates in all of hell? Absolutely. The most lavish jewelry made with all your favorite gemstones? Obviously! A teddy bear bigger than you? Definitely. Only the best. He even replaced the bow tie it had on with one that matches his. He wanted everything to be perfect. He even made reservations at the nicest restaurant on this side of the pentagram. It is usually impossible to get reservations so last minute, but with some convincing, he was able to work miracles! Usually, he would want to make you dinner, but he will be so busy spoiling you tomorrow, that he won’t have the time. It’s fine, you eat his cooking almost every day. Soon, he found that he was running out of places to hide all this stuff in the hotel. No Matter, he would just have to make space in his pocket dimension.

Finally, it was late, almost midnight. Soon, the special day would come, and everything will be perfect for you. A whole day just to give you gifts and to snuggle you. He was over the moon. He was just a tad bit worried that even the extensive amount of gifts he bought you, won't replace the lack of romantic flowers. Every woman dreams of being gifted her favorite flowers by her love, and he couldn’t give that to you. This was one of the many reasons he just didn’t deserve you. He nervously looked up from his desk, and to the pile of things on the other side of the room. It had everything someone could buy for the holiday, perfumes, dresses, cards, The only thing missing was flowers. The one thing he wanted to give you the most. The most romantic thing he could do for you was to give you a beautiful red rose on the most romantic day of the year. And he couldn’t.

He felt his smile shrink a bit, and decided to go back to focus on what he was currently working on. A love poem for you. He had never written poetry. Never even tried. But he heard it was another romantic practice, and decided he could give it a try. It was much more challenging than he expected. How could one articulate such complicated and indescribable feelings through written words? He crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it in the trash can by his desk, which was full of more failed pieces. Just as he reaches to grab another piece, he hears a light knock at his office door. In the blink of an eye, his shadow dove through the small crack under the door and came back to Alastor to tell him who it was. To Alastor’s delight, it was you!

He jumped up from his chair and hurriedly made his way over to the door. He carefully opened it as little as possible for him to slide out and greet you. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. He has never done that before. He always politely opened to door for you to come in, or if he was really busy just shouted for you to let yourself in. You have never seen him just squeeze his way out to try to hide the sight of his office from you.

“How may I help you, my darling?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, a gesture you always found utterly adorable.

“Well I came here to wish you a happy Valentine's day,” you stop for a second as a few nearby clocks start chiming, signaling it was now midnight. “But now I am more interested in what you are trying to hide from me in there” You lean to the side a bit and peer around him to the door, only for your vision to be blocked again as he stepped in front of you. You were honestly a little concerned. He had been kind of ignoring you these past few days, and now he is trying to hide something from you. Although, you would be lying if you said you didn’t have the slightest idea. You caught a glimpse of Niffty shoving some bright pink boxes behind a bookshelf while muttering about how Alaster ought to give her a raise.

You turn to look back up at him, deciding to give him a more stern look. You were going with the ‘mother scolding her child who obviously broke something and is lying about it’ approach. Crossing your arms and tapping your foot, you never stopped looking directly into his eyes, waiting for his response.

Alastor could feel your eyes pierce directly through him and into his soul. You could read him like a book. He started to nervously look around, avoiding eye contact and starting to desperately come up with an excuse. He could technically give you your gifts now, but he wanted to wait until you woke up in the morning, like what was proper.

This whole scene would look absolutely ridiculous to anybody walking by. A horrifying being of darkness and destruction getting treated like a misbehaving toddler by someone half their size.

“Well my dear, you see, I was, well,” He finally looked you in the eyes, after coming up with a sufficient topic changer. “Well my dear, I think we should be paying more attention to the fact that you are still awake. And at this ungodly hour of the night! Ridiculous! We must get you straight to bed.” He grabs your arm and starts hurriedly leading you to your room.

You were awake this late because you had only just finished with his gifts, but you couldn’t tell him that. So instead you went with,

“Well, I just couldn’t sleep without you. Where have you been all week? I miss you.”

Meanwhile, Alastor can’t tell you where HE’S been, so all he can do is try to switch to conversation back to you.

You guys just go back and forth until you are in your room, getting dressed in your nightwear. You eventually break and just give up with your attempted interrogation.

“You know what? Whatever! You keep your secrets you vile, evil man!” You said the last part with an obvious tone of sarcasm, so he doesn’t accidentally take it to heart. Alastor let out a small sigh of relief, knowing that you would finally stop trying to tear into him, and he could stop trying to do the same to you. He really didn’t care what you were doing. You are always up this late on your phone. He tiredly climbed into bed where you happily joined him. You cuddled up close to his side as he carefully wrapped his arms around you. You tilted your head up slightly and placed a soft kiss on his lips, which he graciously returned.

Perhaps he isn’t perfect, and maybe he doesn’t deserve you, but he has you. He has you and he knows you love him, and he loves you, more than anything else. You two love each other, and that is all you need. Not flowers, not poems, not gifts, or any material object. Just with each other, you two can be happy.

P.S. you totally got him some wilted flowers and spent a long LONG time trying to convince him the next day that flowers weren’t actually that important.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #radio demon #the radio demon #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader

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tennessoui · 3 years

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Idk if you are still doing this. But 18 and 40?

i think you're my last one !!!

(all you need to know for this is that on monday i went to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and today i went to the Smithsonian museum of natural history)

18. Someone’s birthday + 40. “It’s just hard for me to forgive you after everything that’s happened.”

"You said you'd be polite," Padmé murmurs just loud enough for Anakin to hear. "Civil. I think your actual words were, 'Yeah of course, Padmé, I won't even look in his direction!'"

"This me being polite," her friend mumbles from next to her, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the lineloium of the floor.

"You glared at him so hard the second he came in that he didn't even approach me," Padmé points out, exasperated. "I'm the birthday girl! He came to see me!"

"You see each other all the time," Anakin defends gruffly, crossing his arms. "You work in the same building. Look even your exhibits are next to each other."

He gestures with a hand to the doors on the other side of the lobby. One reads Hall of Fossils--Deep Time. The other, straight ahead, reads Ocean Hall.

"First of all, you do know we don't actually work in those exhibits, right?" Padmé checks. "And second of all, with the new funding the Deep Ocean Exploration team has just gotten--"

Anakin cuts her off with an angry huff of derision. She hides her smile behind her glass of champagne as she takes a sip.

"Don't even get me started on that, Padmé. I don't understand at all how they chose deep ocean exploration over my team's proposal! I don't think I'll ever forgive him after everything that's happened now! You know we needed that funding! Our satellite designs are flawless! NASA approved, even! We could be out there now, exploring the galaxies! But Obi-Wan Kenobi says a few words about the fucking ocean and suddenly half the nation is putting on flippers and oxygen tanks?"

Padmé has to bite her lip to control her urge to burst out laughing at the angry, petulant expression on Anakin's face.

"I bet he slept with someone," Anakin mutters mutinously as Padme watches him watch Obi-Wan Kenobi move across the room, talking with party-guests and waitstaff interchangeably. The man, in an appropriately tailored and casual suit, throws his head back when he laughs at something someone says to him, and he pats her on the arm. Anakin's jaw flexes.

"I think it's quite telling that you think he's attractive enough to sleep his way into millions of dollars," she says, taking a sip of her champagne. "I can't think of a single fuck in my entire life worth that much money."

Anakin splutters and his face turns red. "That's not what I--" he gets out.

But Padmé has had enough of both of them pretending that they don't think the sun revolves around the other. As much as Anakin hasn't taken his eyes off of Obi-Wan since the man walked in, Obi-Wan has been shooting just as many surreptitious glances at Anakin when he thinks the blond-haired man is looking somewhere else.

It's been years of this. Two years exactly, actually, of Padmé in the middle of two men who are at each other's teeth professionally but can't seem to stay away from each other in their private lives. She's lost track of the amount of times the two of them have broken into deafening arguments over lunch or dinner or drinks because "We should be spending more resources on exploring space!" "Only 5% of the ocean has been explored!" "I can tell you what's down there! Fish!" "And I can tell you what's in space! Rocks!"

Padmé is, quite frankly, sick of it now. She'd like her life much more if her two friends could decide what exactly they wanted from each other. But no, they argue and hate each other when they're together, but she'll post a photo to her Instagram of her and Obi-Wan and a new intern, and Anakin will be texting her not even five minutes later, asking who that guy is and why he's holding Obi-Wan's waist in the photo. Or Anakin will publicly and loudly declare his intention to get back into the dating scene, and Padmé will spend the next two or so weeks fielding questions from Obi-Wan about if Anakin's found any space nerds to date, how those days may be going, if anyone's come back for seconds....

"You didn't let me finish," Padmé says quickly, when she catches Obi-Wan's eye and smiles at him, certain that this will get him to come over. "I was saying that with the new funding, Obi-Wan might not be working at the museum anymore."

Anakin freezes beside her. "What?" he breathes out.

"There's an open position in a research facility in Hawai'i. He's been tapped for it. I don't know really if he plans to accept yet..." she says leadingly, but it's pretty clear pretty quickly that Anakin isn't listening anymore.

"He never told me that," he says in a very small voice.

He sounds so unsure, hurt, that Padmé almost regrets what she's about to say. "Why would he?" she asks anyway. "You were just saying how you would never forgive him for winning the funding. This just be perfect for you. He leaves, you never have to see him again."

Anakin's eyebrows furrow and he looks confused. Hurt. Angry. The perfect expression for Obi-Wan's arrival in front of the pair of them.

"Padmé!" Obi-Wan smiles as he leans in and kisses her cheek. "Happy birthday! Amazing celebration, I cannot believe they allowed you to host it in the museum itself."

"Well, you only turn 35 once," she smiles at him.

Obi-Wan nods seriously with a teasing grin on his face. "Now you're old enough to run for president and everything."

She laughs. "Me? A head for politics? I'm not sure. But," she says slyly when it's very clear Anakin isn't going to say anything himself, too busy staring at the side of Obi-Wan's face with an intense, creepy sort of glare. "If anyone I know does, I think it'd be you. Ani and I were just talking about how they granted funding to your proposal the other day. Congratulations!"

"Thank you, thank you," Obi-Wan says graciously, but his smile has become fixed and his eyes dart over to Anakin.

Anakin, who decides to take this moment to figure out how to speak again. "When do you leave?" he asks in an angry, harsh tone. Padmé sighs to herself. She should have known a surprised and hurt Anakin turns to fury before he turns to acceptance, especially where Obi-Wan Kenobi is concerned.

"Pardon?" Obi-Wan asks politely, turning his body to face only Anakin. Padmé tries not to sigh again. She should be used to this, the way their eyesight narrows to only each other.

But on her birthday, really?

Anakin's jaw flexes as he gnashes his teeth together. There's nothing Ani hates more in the world than someone acting as if his question is a silly question.

That's not what Obi-Wan's doing of course, but Obi-Wan's done it enough in the past to rile Anakin up that Padmé can understand the confusion the astrophysicist is going through.

"To Hawai'i. Padmé said all your water money is gonna get you a fancy new position on the West Coast. Just wanted to know when you're going to go."

Padmé has half a mind to tell Obi-Wan that that is not, actually what she said, but Obi-Wan looks as if he wouldn't even realize she's spoken if she tried.

"Would you miss me?" the oceanologist murmurs, stepping closer to Anakin. "Were I to leave, would you miss me, Anakin?"

Anakin looks like a deer in the headlights for a second, before his face shuts down. "I wanna write it on my calendar, celebrate the day."

Obi-Wan's face flashes with something that leaves his eyes colder than before, and he steps back. Away. Padmé winces and tries to take a sip from her champagne glass before realizing it's empty.

"Well, that certainly makes things easier," he tells Anakin shortly before turning his full attention back to Padmé. "I meant to come over and say goodbye. It's a bit of walk home, and I have an early day tomorrow."

"But you just got here," Anakin sounds confused, as if he'd expected to keep Obi-Wan's attention for much longer.

Obi-Wan summarily ignores him and leans into kiss Padmé's cheek again. "Happy birthday again, Padmé," he tells her gripping her hand in both of his for a second before dropping it and turning back into the crowd.

"What was that?" Anakin says gruffly, crossing his arms. "Why'd he kiss you? He's leaving so early! And ignoring me! What?"

Padmé shakes her head and puts her hand on his arm. It looks like she's going to have to spell a few things out to her silly astrophysicist. "That was you fucking up," she says slowly.

Anakin scoffs. "What? No. We say that shit all the time to each other."

"Anakin, listen to me," she waits until his eyes are on hers and not trying to catch Obi-Wan's receding figure. "Today at lunch, he told me he hadn't decided if he was going to take the position yet. But I think he just did."

Anakin blinks at her. Men are stupid. These men especially.

"If you want him to stay, you have to tell him."

"Tell him--I...why do I--don't be ridiculous--"

"Anakin, I've known Obi-Wan for four years. The only thing he talked about the first two was the ocean. For the last two, it's been the ocean and you."

Anakin stares at her and then stares at the people around them. Padmé knows he's trying to find Obi-Wan in the crowd. "But...he's leaving."

"But he came here wearing a coat," she points out, giving him a little push towards the unmanned coat room.

"I--right," Anakin mumbles to himself.

Feeling like the best friend in the whole world, Padmé takes his champagne flute from him and pushes him harder forward. "Go get him, Ani," she encourages, but she gets the feeling Anakin isn't even listening to her anymore as he moves across the lobby to the coat room.

She watches just long enough to see Obi-Wan emerge from the room wearing his tan coat and Anakin pushing him furiously back inside. The door closes behind them, and Padmé hopes it comes with a lock.

But if it doesn't, that's their problem. She's done enough for one night.

#asks #prompt fill #this got sooooo long #but i love it!!!#jury's out on whether or not they've been sleeping together for a while now or if their first kiss takes place in that coat room #obikin #astrophysicist anakin #oceanologist obi-wan #oh look theres even alliteration #smithsonian au

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ghostdrew22 · 3 years

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Burning From The Inside Out || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: slight angst, slight smut, swearing, mentions of abuse and self-harm Summary: Draco and Y/N evolve from fake dating to friends with benefits to… nothing? Commitment issues, and a general distaste for love, stand in the way of the two of them becoming more.

WORDS : 4710

Lyric snippets I used are from “Love Song” by YUNGBLUD and they’re not in chronological order.

<~>

“All I learned growing up was that love chewed me up Spit me out on the pavement next to the cuts And the blood that my mum and dad would Always take out on each other.”

Draco had always thought that love was fake- a neurological con job meant to bring your guard down and distract you from the more important things in life such as money, sex and success. It made sense why he felt that way- having grown up watching his parents claw at each other until blood was caught between their nails and the venom from their harsh words was lacing the atmosphere so thickly, it felt like a fog- he was bound to think that love didn’t exist.

So when his friends began ask why he wasn’t dating one of the many people that were basically falling at his feet, he froze up. How could he have possibly explained that he thought love was a ridiculous waste of time because he’d watched his parents approach to it and it scarred him so much that he wanted to leave the whole thing alone? He couldn’t. So he did the next best thing, he asked you to fake-date him.

It was a ludicrous idea, you both knew that, but you were his best friend for years and you loved him an immeasurable amount so you figured that there was no harm in helping him out. Besides, you had a lot of people hot on your trail too and you just weren’t interested in romantically committing to anyone- more attracted to the concept of sex with no strings than to the idea of being in a long-term romantic relationship with someone.

But in all honestly, you still don’t know why you’d agreed to do it, it was stupid and a very obvious recipe for disaster. I mean in the moment it had felt like a good enough idea to get Harry Potter off of your back and Pansy Parkinson off of his, but even at the time you knew that you were playing with fire and one of you was bound to get burned.

And the thought surfaced again when you two crossed territory from friends to friends with benefits. It had started with an innocent kiss on his cheek now and then- to convince everyone that you two were actually dating- but as the weeks went by and people began to get suspicious about your lack of PDA (considering Draco’s possessive nature and your touchy nature) it became apparent that the two of you had to up your game. And one afternoon when you were kissing him on the way to class, a switch seemed to flip and soon enough you were pressed up against the broom closet wall as he sunk himself deep inside your walls- trying then and there to drown every inch of you with his touch, to leave every part of you scorching with the feel of him.

It definitely wasn’t love, that much you knew. It was more just an insatiable hunger to destroy one another - to be the best that either of you had ever had so that you would both be ruined for whoever dared to come next. Maybe that should’ve been the first red flag, the first time you noticed just how toxic your little routine was, but it didn’t matter then and frankly, it doesn’t matter much to you now. Because with him logic is quickly thrown out the window and all you can seem to think about is sinking your teeth into him, making him yours, branding him so that the entire school knows not to touch what you’ve claimed as your own- even if there’s no romantic feelings involved, there’s still a harsh possession that nests itself within your relationship. A dark desire to own and be owned in the most filthy of ways, to be looked at like a meal and devoured like a feast by one and one only.

~~~

“Wanna get rid of my period for 9 months?” You groan from your place on the bed and Draco gapes at you.

“Y/N you are so foul!” He exclaims with a chuckle and you barely manage a laugh in your pained state. “Most girls would offer to take me out to dinner first, maybe undress me slowly-“

“When have I ever undressed you slowly?” You ask with a knowing eyebrow raise and Draco smirks back at you.

“Fair point.” He replies and you groan in pain again, “It’s okay, I’m coming don’t worry.” He drops his schoolbag on your bedroom floor and peels his shoes off of his feet before pulling out a brown paper bag from his schoolbag and crawling into bed beside you.

“I got you meds from Madame Pomfrey, drink this now.” He hands you a potion, “It should kick in within the hour.”

“That’s too long.” You whine and he deadpans you- making you shift under his gaze and drink the potion. “It tastes like utter shit.”

“You drink it every month, why aren’t you used to it?” He asks with a laugh and you shrug.

“I think I force myself to forget.”

“Weirdo.” He mumbles before digging back into the paper bag, “I brought you chocolate and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to keep you munching.” He pulls out the snacks and hands them to you, “Heat compress to alleviate the pain till the potion kicks in.” He puts the heat compress on your lower abdomen, “And I brought ’Sense & Sensibility’ from the library to keep you distracted.”

“Why ’Sense & Sensibility’?”

“Because I know that you’ve currently got your obsession with muggle authors and I remember you telling me that you loved this woman’s other book so I just grabbed it quickly.” He shrugs and you smile, already starting to feel a little better.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, we do this every month Y/N.” He chuckles.

He’s right, it is your routine. For as long as you can remember being friends with Draco, you can remember him looking after you whenever you have a really bad period- bringing you snacks, massaging you, singing to you, running you baths, anything that could possibly make you feel better. It’s consistent, one of the only things you both have to rely on, but you still can’t help the feeling of immense gratitude that washes over you every time. He always goes above and beyond for you, and you can’t help but feel grateful for him.

“Now,” He says as he drags your attention back to reality, “do you want me to read to you or do want cuddles?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you already know the answer.

“Cuddles.” He laughs at how quickly you respond and puts the book on the table beside your bed before hooking his arms around your waist and helping you both sink into the covers- your head nuzzled into chest as he lays flat on his back and rubs soothing circles into your own.

“Better?” He asks after a few minutes of him massaging your back and you nod eagerly- bringing your fingers up to trace lines across his collarbone in an effort to keep yourself occupied. He shivers at the feeling of your fingertips against his skin and you smile. “Keep doing that and I will have to take you up on that offer of taking away your period for nine months.”

~~~

“Nobody taught me how to love myself.”

“Standing there, you look at me Understanding everything”

The sudden eruption of voices in the hallway has you rapidly turning your neck toward the sound, just in time to catch a glimpse of Draco storming away from the rest of his exhausted quidditch teammates and into another hallway that leads to the dungeons. From what you’d seen he had looked furious and the rest of the team looks very solemn, so you say goodbye to Tracey Davis and quickly shuffle toward the team so that you can ask Blaise what happened.

Blaise catches your eye right before you reach him and opens his arms to hug you- draping one arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him so he can kiss your forehead. “Bad practice, he couldn’t do anything right today.” He says- already knowing what question was on your mind.

“Do you know what’s up with him?” You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and his shakes his head with a shrug.

“No clue. He was perfectly fine this morning, then by the time practice came he was fuming.”

“He’s angry?”

“He was angry. Now he’s just… sad?” Blaise sighs, “I really don’t know what’s going on, please check on him?”

You nod with a small smile and make to leave, “I’ll go see him right now.”

By the time you reach the common room Draco’s already in his room- something you figured out from the sound of his door slamming harshly- and you trek up to it nervously.

“Draco?” You ask softly as you open the door and find him hunched over his desk- still fully draped in quidditch gear.

He snaps his head up quickly and meets your eyes with a cold stare. “What?”

“Okay, rude.” You mumble as you step into the room and lean against the door. “Are you okay?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes as he turns to face you from across the room, “Yeah, I’m bloody great.” He shrugs, “I’m the world’s worst seeker and my mother’s in the hospital, it’s truly a wonderful life.” He drawls sarcastically.

You push yourself off of the door at the mention of his mother and quickly stride toward him, “What do you mean your mother’s in the hospital?” You raise your eyebrows- concern erupting from your throat.

He doesn’t say anything but slowly turns behind him and picks up a letter from the desk to hand to you. He sighs and leans against the desk as you take it from him and begin to read the letter from his father.

a mild heart attack as she fell down the stairs.

Your eyes glaze over with anger as you scrunch the letter up and toss it to the ground. You’re no stranger to the abuse that goes on in the Malfoy household- having heard it yourself one night when you’d spend a weekend at their home- and you know that what Lucius really means is that he hit her so hard that she had to be hospitalised. You open your mouth to speak but Draco shakes his head and cuts you off.

“No. No Speaking.” You nod as he sighs and rubs his hands across his face in frustration. You take no offense at his words because, to be honest, nothing you could’ve said would make it better anyway. This has happened so often, too often really, that the two of you have evolved passed the need to converse about it.

“Fuck!” He exclaims suddenly and you flinch at the outburst- making him soften instantly as he turns to face you. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You nod in forgiveness and he reaches his arms out for you, and you do as he asks and sink into his arms- running your hands through his hair as he leans on the desk and you stand.

“I hate him.”

“I know.” You pull away from him and cup his face so he looks into your eyes. “Go take a shower, you stink.”

He laughs sadly and nods as he stands and starts walking to the bathroom. He stops midway and turns back to you, “Will you still be here when I get back?”

“Where else would I go?” You raise your eyebrows at him with a smile and he smiles back before slipping into his prefect bathroom to shower.

While he’s showering you decide to get changed into something more comfortable- putting on one of his shirts over your underwear- and put out his favourite pyjama pants on the bed for him to wear once he’s gotten out of the shower. Then you climb into his bed and start reading the copy of ‘Sense & Sensibility’ that he got after reading with you and realising Jane Austen is actually pretty good, while you wait for him to get done.

“Nobody taught me how to love myself So how can I love somebody else?”

You’re so entranced by the book that you don’t even notice him come back into the room until he’s speaking to you from the foot of the bed. “Did you take these out for me?”

“Mhmm.” You respond without taking your eyes off the page in front of you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welco-“ You gasp as your eyes come off the page and meet his figure. He’s still dripping from the shower, a towel tied around his torso, and he’s got bruises all around his abdomen. “Draco!”

You get up and climb round the bed to get him, and he barely has any time to slide his bottoms on before he starts shuffling away from you.

“It’s nothing, I promi-“ He winces as soon as one of your hands makes contact with a bruise near his ribs.

“Draco.” You pull your hand back angrily and speak with a warning tone.

“Y/N it’s-“

“You promised me this would stop.” You state firmly and he gulps in fear. “We’ve been friends what, 6 years now? And in the six years that we’ve known each other I’ve done a countless amount of shit for you, no fucking questions asked. I ask, no, I beg you to do one thing and you can’t even do that?”

“It just happened.” He sighs tiredly and you scoff with a laugh.

“No, it didn’t just happen. You let it happen. Or am I wrong?”

“I-“

“You know what? I don’t even want to hear it.” You walk back to the bed with a shake of your head.

You’ve asked him a million times not to go sparring with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle before Quidditch practice because he always comes back black and blue- smothered in painful bruises on his entire abdomen. He only does it because he thinks that he deserves the pain, that in some weird way he’s getting what’s due to him for existing. It’s his own way of self-harming and it’s led him to Madame Pomfrey more times than you can possibly remember.

He promised you months ago that he’d stop for good, that he’d start taking better care of himself and stop looking for excuses to get hurt when he felt bad about himself. But bad habits, it seems, tend to die hard when you’re self-loathing masochist who can’t trust his best friend enough to talk to her when he starts to feel like shit.

“I’m sorry, I just needed something to take my mind off of it.” He trails behind you and picks up his wand to cast a silencing charm- anticipating the screaming match that you’re both about to have.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me? I’m your fucking best friend, what the hell else am I here for?”

“I know, I’m sorry I just…”

“You just?”

“I’m always coming to you with my problems, burdening you with my thoughts and it’s just not fair.”

“What?” You snap at him in confusion.

“I come crying to when my parents are doing their usual shit, I come to you when I have a bad Quidditch game, I come to you when I get a bad grade- fuck- I even come to you when I’m too scared to get into a relationship-“

“I chose to help you with that, don’t fucking act like you forced me into this because it was mutually beneficial.”

“That’s not the bloody point Y/N!” He yells in exasperation.

“Then what is the fucking point Draco?” You yell back.

He sighs, clenches his fists and closes his eyes. “The point is, I’m more bad than good for you, I’m a burden.”

You gasp at his words and sit on the edge of the bed as you look up at him in astonishment. That’s what he said to you the first time that you talked about his home life, ‘I think that they fight because of me, I ruined their lives. I’m a burden.’

“You’re not a burden.”

“You say that now. Until the day when you want more comes and I can’t give it to you.” He sits on the edge of the bed beside you, “One day this won’t be enough- you’ll want someone who can love you the way that you want to be loved- and I won’t be strong enough to do that. And then I’ll lose the only good thing I have in my life.”

“I’ll never leave you- I don’t think I could even if I tried.” You laugh awkwardly and pull him into your chest for a hug. “I don’t want more Draco, I don’t think I ever will. It sounds hard to believe but being best friends who occasionally have mind-boggling sex is quite enough for me, it makes me happy.”

“Promise me that you’ll tell me if you want more.” He mumbles into your chest.

“I promise bug.” You whisper as you rub his back soothingly- letting him relax into your embrace.

After a few seconds of silence he speaks again, “They’re going to kill each other.” He whispers- so quiet that you think maybe you imagined it- before a soft sob escapes his lips.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You whisper back and continue soothing him by running your fingers along his bare back- stopping every few seconds to massage his ribs a bit- in an effort to help him calm down.

You don’t tell him that they won’t, because in all honesty you don’t know if they won’t, but you hold him tight for as long as he needs and promise him that you’ll be there for him. And that’s enough for the both of you- knowing that you’ll always be there for each other.

You sit like that for a while as he calms down and his breathing evens out- his head in your chest as one of your hands holds his and the other digs into his skin softly. It’s when he stops rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand, and instead starts rubbing it up and down your thigh, that you realise he’s finally breathing normally again. “Y/N?”

“Hm?” You hum in response as he pulls his head out of your chest and brings his lips up to your neck.

“Can we have some of that mind-boggling sex you talked about?” He asks against your collarbone and you laugh at his sudden change in attitude.

“I take it someone’s feeling better?” You ask as you let him take control of the situation and push you onto your back against the mattress.

“No.” He says, voice muffled as his lips graze against the skin on your neck, as his hands travel along your sides delicately. “But I need to feel you.”

“Dra-“ You start to protest- wanting to tell him that he can’t fuck his sadness away- but he cuts you off with a chaste kiss to your lips as his hands find their way beneath the t-shirt that you’re wearing and come up to unhook your bra.

“Please?” He asks desperately when he finally pulls away from your lips, his voice raw and raspy, “Let me take care of you princess.”

You’re still hesitant to agree, worried that he’s using this as a coping mechanism and scared that it’ll worsen the pain he’s feeling in his abdomen, but his lips find that soft spot behind your ear and you melt into his grasp like ice-cream on a thirty-degree day. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Okay.” Is all you say before he’s making good on his promise and making you feel so good that it’s as if there’s lava crawling beneath your bones.

His lips and hands are everywhere you need them, not hesitating to give you what you want as they usually do, not acting at a torturously slow pace. Tonight there’s no teasing, no tug-of-war between you both to see who cracks first, there’s just immense passion and trust- all the unsaid words left floating in the air are now dancing between your lips as they connect over and over again.

In this moment he’s Picasso and all he can think about is painting over you with his lips, his hands, his cock as it digs against your inviting walls, with every colour of the rainbow until the world itself is drained of all vibrancy because he’s given it all to you.

You meant what you said before, sex with Draco is always mind-boggling and lip-bitingly pleasurable, but this is different. It makes you finally understand what people mean when they say that they can see God at the height of their climax- that they feel as though their bodies are overheating and they’re going to combust at any moment.

He has never been this soft before, usually sex with him is fast, rough, hard, and all about building up the tallest tower of arousal so you can both knock it down with earth-shattering orgasms. But this is so different. This is soft, sensual, almost slow in a way- it says more than any words you two could possibly try to use to explain how much you value each other. You’re not in love, that’s for sure, but this feeling, this painfully exquisite moment, is the closest thing you two will ever get to uttering the words, “I love you”, to each other.

Who needs love when the two of you have each other to make you feel like you’re both burning from the inside out?

~~~

Now, as you sit next to him in Potions and watch intently as he chops up the next set of ingredients, you think that perhaps it’s you who’s going to set on fire.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

“Hm?” You furrow your eyebrows at him as you zone back in, “Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

“You seem to be doing a lot of that lately, are you okay?” He asks genuinely as he stops working on the potion to focus a soft gaze on you.

You gulp and nod, giving him a fake smile, “Yes, of course, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, seriously.” You bring your hand up to his arm as reassurance and smile again- trying to ignore how taut his muscles feel beneath your fingers, even with all the fabric between them- “What were you saying?”

“Oh!” He smiles brightly, “I was asking if you want to go down to the Black Lake next period? Since we’re both free?”

“And do what?” You narrow your eyes at him but grin still.

“I don’t know- drown ourselves, skinny dip, have a picnic- whatever your heart desires.”

“If you’re just looking for an excuse to see me naked then all you have to do is ask.” You smirk.

“I wouldn’t need to take you all the way there if I wanted to see you naked.” He grins widely and you roll your eyes, “I’ve just been wanting to go down there for a while and I thought I might as well bring you along.”

“Because you love my company?”

“Because you probably have nothing better do and no one else to hang out with.”

“We both know half the boys in this grade would drop everything for ten minutes with me, I could easily find someone to hang out with.” You reply very brazenly and he rolls his eyes at you. It’s true, more than half of the boys in the grade have tried to ask you out at least once, Potter being the most insistent, and if push came to shove you could easily find someone else to spend your free period with.

Not that you want to, free periods with Draco have actually become one of your favourite pastimes. Usually spent working on extra school work, or chatting, or trashing on Harry Potter- which happens considerably often since you both don’t like him.

“Too bad for them because you’re coming with me.”

“Because?” You raise your eyebrows at him- waiting for him to admit what you want to hear- and he mumbles a reply that you don’t quite catch- “Excuse me?”

“Because I love your company…”

“I know.” You smile with a giggle.

“Sweetheart, you are Changing my mind”

“There ain’t no excuses I swear that I’m doing my best”

“Do you still think love is fake?” You ask as you both lie in the grass and stare up at the sky- enjoying one of the only sunny days you’ll be getting this June.

“Hm?” Draco hums in questioning and you turn on your side to face him- propping your head up on your palm as you lean on your elbow.

“Love. Do you still think it’s a hoax?”

He sighs and blinks a bit before taking a gulp and averting his eyes from the sky to meet your own. “I don’t know.”

“I think in the time that we’ve been pretending to date, I’ve felt a lot of new emotions that I’d never felt before. I can’t tell you if it’s love or not because well, I don’t know what that’s supposed to look like or feel like, but I do know that I like it. It’s different to anything I’ve ever felt before because it’s comfortable and warm- it’s home in a way. It’s the kind of feeling home is meant to give me, not the dread and fear I feel when I get off the Hogwarts Express and find my parents waiting for me on the platform. Not the emptiness I feel when I have to sit through dinners with them and we have to pretend that we’re a happy family. Not the sadness I feel when I’m locked up in my room and I can hear them screaming at each other at the top of their lungs downstairs. It doesn’t feel like what I feel when I think of the Malfoy Manor, the only way I can describe what it feels like is by saying that it feels like what I feel when I think of you, or when I’m with you.”

“And what do you feel when you think of me?” You ask.

“I feel safe and happy and like there’s fire coursing through my veins - almost like I’m burning from the inside out. I don’t know if that’s what love is supposed to feel like- I’ve got no one to ask- but I know that I like feeling that way.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath, “So, to answer your question, I don’t know if I still think love is fake. All I know is that I don’t feel that hopelessness that usually consumes me, when I’m with you.”

You look at him in awe- utterly speechless and completely amazed by the words he’s just spoken to you. You can’t ask him for anything more than that, he’s clearly trying his best to be open to love and honest with you, and you don’t really want more anyway- it’s enough knowing that the two of you make each other happy. What you two have is enough. “You are fucking ethereal.” You breathe out as you sink back to the ground and go back to looking at the sun.

“So are you.” Draco says back as he picks up your hand and intertwines your fingers together. He doesn’t think that love is a hoax, he thinks that maybe he’s falling in love with you, but he’s not ready to admit that just yet- not when the fear of the only solid good thing in his life disappearing still haunts him with every waking moment. Not when you’re not showing any signs of romantic attraction toward him, because he can’t afford to be another dotted line in your book of conquests just because he got soft and caught feelings for you.

He’s not sure of himself yet, how can he be when no one ever taught him how to trust in his ability to be lovable? How can he be when even his own mother and father give him leftover scraps of affection veiled as the unconditional love of parents. Letting himself fall in love with you is a big risk to take when his own insecurities swarm his thoughts day and night, when his own fear of commitment swallows him up whole at every interval in which he thinks he’s ready to be vulnerable. No, he’s not ready to fall in love with you yet. But he’s trying to get there.

<~>

So, this ending is not what I originally envisioned, that one was a lot more compact and fluffy than this one is but I much prefer this one. When I first started writing this fic I actually started with the ending and worked my way backwards but when I finally got to the beginning I realized that the ending just didn’t fit anymore and I had to end it here.

I’m much happier with this ending because it’s undefined and open to interpretation. In a way Y/N is aromantic but in a way she’s also not- I couldn’t decide so I left it in a way that the reader can decide.

I’m planning on using the original ending in something different, which I will post here once it’s done, but yeah, this is the fic.

Anyway, love you all,

jean <3

306 notes · View notes

peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

What abkut mafia!jake au

Stop giving me awesome AU ideas that I cannot write the fic for! 😭

- due to some really, really bad choices after high school (did he ever make other ones? who knows), Jake Peralta has ended up as a grunt for the Ianucci family. He doesn’t really do much - he’s mostly someone who gathers information and new areas for them to work in, because he’s good at randomly befriending people and milking them for all it’s worth. He’s done a few ‘deliveries’, too, but has never had to really get physical.

- (he was at one family meeting that turned into the ‘farewell’ of a mistrusted member and he still has nightmares about it)

- he’s never been arrested for anything and thought the police didn’t even know his name, so imagine his surprise when he’s approached by one of their higher-ups (as if he knows the rankings, psh, pigs are all the same) and subtly but definitely asked if he would be willing to work with them

- his task seems simple: bring one of their cops into the family undercover, the same way he has ‘recruited’ several bodega owners and other ‘low-skill’ workers that turned out to be useful for the family. Maybe keep an eye on the cop as well and help her out if she’s struggling

- she? oh yeah, it’s a woman. A frankly gorgeous woman, he realises when they meet up with her and some FBI dude who obviously pretends he’s not FBI, to discuss it all further. Her name is ‘Dora’, and he knows that’s a lie from the second she’s introduced, but the less he knows, probably the better. The rules are set, he gets a special cellphone number of a ‘cousin’ to contact if something goes wrong, and two weeks later Dora Perez is steadily working her way up the ranks with the Ianuccis, who are very proud of Jake for bringing in this brilliant new talent.

- He might or might not be looking out for her a little bit too much. He might or might not get involved in far more shady dealings with the Iannuccis so he can work closer with her. He might or might not be in deep, deep shit.

- ‘Dora’ is grateful for it, though, he learns every time he drives her home after a more difficult job. She used to be withdrawn and quiet with him, which he tried to equalise by cracking more and more stupid jokes and doing random silly stuff during their drives, but then one time they drive in absolute silence while she cleans blood of her hands, and he says something, he doesn’t remember what, but it’s the right thing apparently, because she starts to talk. She talks to him during every ride after, telling him about the stress and the constant guard she has to keep up and how none of her research binders prepared her for this, and at some point she tells him about nightmares and seeing death around every corner and she can’t wait for this mission to be over.

- (for her sake, he can’t wait for that either. For his sake, he wishes it would go on forever.)

- They’re sent out for a big job together once, because Jake has already become ‘connected’ to Amy in the Ianuccis’ eyes, and they both end up with blood on their hands, and some of it is hers.

- he gets out of the car after that drive home, and gets up to her tiny, fake apartment, and helps her clean the wounds (nothing too big, just cuts, because thank god that guy only had a knife before he beat it out of his hands and then beat the living daylight out of him after he injured her) with the softest fingers she’s ever felt. Then the cleaning alcohol is swapped for drinkable stuff, and they talk, and they talk about everything and nothing, about how a dead-beat dad and an absent mother make a Mafia goon, and how family pressure and a sense of constant duty make a detective who so badly wanted to say no to this assignment but couldn’t.

- “For what it’s worth, Dora, I’m glad you said yes. I mean, not that- not that I want you to do this kind of work- and I want things to be over for you soon, because- but- I’m glad it’s you.” “Amy.” “Hm?” “My name is Amy. Amy Santiago.”

- He wakes up in her bed the next morning, with her in his arms, and he kind of doesn’t regret a single thing, even as his smart-brain is screaming at him. He’s pretty sure he would’ve willingly died for her even before this night, but now, he realises... that he probably will.

- Amy (Amy, not Dora) does freak out a little more than he does when she wakes up. She can’t get involved, she says, this is a job, a dangerous one, and she has to focus on that job and getting the mafia gang and not- okay, okay, let’s not overthink this then, Jake says only to calm her down, we don’t do anything ‘involved’, we’re just... having fun. Keeping things light and breezy. Helping deal with the stress.

- and so, despite how much it hurts and how much it makes him happy at the same time, Jakey the Jew becomes Jakey, Dora’s Loverboy. It helps, he supposes, because it means the Ianuccis won’t suspect them hanging out so much, and send him along to most of her jobs now so he can watch out for her, and he gets to be with her in a way, even as she constantly reiterates ‘light and breezy’ to keep him at a distance no matter how close they get.

- it doesn’t feel very ‘light and breezy’ when they spend time together in front of the TV, though, to get their minds to relax after doing whatever the Ianuccis needed them doing. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ when they joke around in the bodega getting ice cream on a particularly hot day out doing jobs, or when she shows him around the library after meeting her ‘cousin’ there for a chat. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ at all when she sighs into his arms when he’s holding her in bed, neither of them even wanting to take the night any further than soft hands under tshirts, because all they really need at some point is the comfort of each other.

- and then one day, after a few months of this ‘light and breezy’ and ‘Dora’s Loverboy’, Jake gets invited for a ‘Talk’ by the family. With a capital T. And he’s not been that high up in the ranks at any point, and he’s not really done much for the family, but he’s not an idiot. He knows what that means. So of course he doesn’t tell Amy, writes her a short but succinct note instead that maybe ends with the L-word somewhere in it, and goes to have a Talk.

- The Ianuccis know that there is a rat, but they don’t know who. And they know that if Jakey is good for one thing, it’s information. So The Talk doesn’t end as quickly as it usually does, and the way he’d expected. It hurts a lot more, for one thing. Jake thinks of offering up some other goon or lower family member as the rat, if only to make the torture stop, but his brain is too broken in the moment to figure out a convincing story. And when the name ‘Perez’ suddenly drops into the conversation, there’s really only one other name he can still think of clearly to blame. Peralta.

- he doesn’t remember much after that - he’s pretty sure he heard gunshots, but none of them hit him, so what’s the deal with that? Everything else is pretty much a blur of pain and cold, and lots of shouting, and then warm soft hands on his face and a quiet voice saying his name amidst it all, and when he wakes up the next time he’s in a hospital bed.

- He’s in that hospital bed for two weeks to recover, and no one visits him. Not that it should be surprising - Nana is dead, his mom doesn’t know about anything he’s done since the age of 18 for a reason, and there’s no one else who in their right mind should care to visit him. So imagine his surprise when a detective shows up, introduces herself as Rosa Diaz, and explains that she’s Amy’s partner at work, but she’s not here for official business.

- “She wanted to come see you. Hell, she fought tooth and nail for it. But she had to be debriefed, stupid FBI assholes, and then it turned out two of the Ianuccis got away, so we had to find them first to make sure they don’t go after her for revenge” (well that explains the constant patrols in the hospital for him, as well) “and we had to hide her for her safety, but, Jake, she wanted to come see you. I swear.” “It’s okay.” Jake says, and it’s really not, but he’s been a brilliant liar for years now. “You can tell her... it’s okay. The job is done, and I’m, I’m glad she’s finally got it over and past her. Really. Tell her it’s okay.”

- He’s debriefed by the FBI after he gets discharged, as well. They tell him ‘good job’ and ‘thanks’ and pay him a surprisingly large amount of money and cover his hospital bills, so that’s good. They also advise that he move, not far, but far enough that any possible leftover scragglers of the family don’t remember his old place for a ‘visit’. So he moves, a few blocks only, enough to get a new favourite bodega and deli and discover that the library is actually nearby and that there’s this community college that Amy kept talking about for some reason, and if he takes a few classes to finally get a degree, it’s not about getting a proper job at some point, it’s more about not thinking about anything else. About maybe forgetting, even if it was her that basically got him where he is now.

- (it does not work)

- she knocks on his door a month later. She looks strange in her professional outfit instead of washed out jeans and a tanktop with a stupid slogan on it, but also so perfectly her. That’s Amy, he thinks, not Dora anymore. That’s Amy, and he still loves her just as much as he did when she was ‘Dora’ in his sweatpants and tshirt. Maybe more.

- “You’re a hard man to find, Peralta.” She says, and he knows that’s a lie, but she smiles with a scared look through it and he takes it for what it is - an attempt at saying anything, really, after 1 1/2 months of silence, when she’s probably got a speech all prepared in her head but needs to get there first. “That’s such a bad, cheesy movie line.” He helps, and she laughs and yeah, that’s all he needs in life. “Well we never watched any good movies, did we.” “Hey, we watched Die Hard. That’s the best movie there is.” She rolls her eyes but nods, and opens her mouth, and Jake thinks that the speech is coming now, but he has no idea what it might entail. Thank you and good bye, maybe. Good job, great work, can you sign this official statement for me so I can add it to my paperwork? possibly. “Screw light and breezy.” She says instead, and then she’s in his new apartment, which is much nicer and cleaner than the old place was even after she worked her magic on it, and she’s kissing him, and he’s never, ever letting her out.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #headcanon? writing? I dunno anymore #Mafia AU

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yoditorian · 3 years

Text

lacuna- part 8

din/reader

SURPRISE DROP!!!!! there’s only one more part left after this can you bELIEVE???? i’ll leave the emotional spiel until then and for now i’ll just apologise for the pain you’re about to go through in such a short amount of time💛

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst angst angst, some swears, no seriously this is just pain they don’t even bang, a confession

“Have you ever removed your helmet?”

“No.”

“Has it ever been removed by others?”

“Never.”

He’s lying.

Din has always been so careful with his words. Lying makes his voice tremble, it always has done. So he is careful, he never says more than he needs to, thinks on the phrasing of the promises he makes. He has only outright lied once in his adult life, to you. To protect you. Maybe that’s what keeps him steady now. Even with a blade at his throat and half the covert watching on. He does not falter.

You’d think they would make engine parts easier to clean.

You’re perched on a crate in the hangar at your old work station, legs crossed beneath you, as you scrub away at the dull metal of the second-hand hyperdrive motivator that some vendor in a backwater scrapyard had, frankly, swindled you for. The stupid thing isn’t worth the credits you’d paid for it, but it’s still a hell of a lot more useful than the one that sits completely dead in the transport’s engine. But this was your decision, and you have to live with it.

What’s the alternative? Spend the rest of your life working your way around the galaxy, flying for whoever’s paying? Settling down in the little house on the edge of the Damerons’ farm? Going back to the New Republic? None of your options sound appealing enough to move on. You know this place, you know how it works. That’s enough.

“Wasn’t just me who stuck around either,” Ran’s voice pulls you from a particularly stubborn lump of grease, “You remember this one?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, when he’d told you he was expecting company you’d assumed it was another one of his contacts. A black market buyer or seller, they usually are. Not him. You were expecting anybody but Din.

His armour shines under the lights, sparks reflecting off the unpainted beskar. It’s beautiful. But your stomach lurches at how new it is, that his old armour had somehow gotten damaged enough that he needed an entirely new set. Except one of his thigh plates, dented to hell and back but still usable. There’s something of the man you know, the man you thought you knew, under all that.

The way Ran talks about you like you’re not even there is enough to calm you. He has no idea about your history with Din. Good, one less thing he can hold over your head. It’s far from the most dangerous situation you’ve ever been in, but you’re not about to let your guard down. Not with the team you know is heading out alongside him. Although nobody’s told you where they’re heading off to, which alone is enough to confirm that you wouldn’t approve of whatever it is.

You’re grateful you’d tucked your old blanket into a drawer in your workstation, the hangar gets cold. Especially when the Crest returns and brings the chill of hyperspace with it. The knit of it loose with age now, but it’s the last of your life before. The last remnant of a time when you thought you knew who you were.

You don’t expect Qin to be the prisoner they’d gone to break out. Although, now that you look back, who else could it have been? Who else did enough people on the station give enough of a shit about to warrant sending a team after? The old team, specifically.

Nobody follows him out.

You’re moving towards the ship before you’re even really aware of yourself. Qin looks surprised to see you, but you bypass a greeting to glance into the Crest’s hull. Empty. Did no one make it out? Did Din-

He’s there, suddenly, walking down the ramp and catching the pouch of credits that Ran tosses him. You try to cover your sigh of relief with a cough, but you’re not sure how successful you are.

“Something the droid said, about the hyperdrive. Could you come take a look?” Din turns to face you, and for a second it’s like neither of you left the station. You’re rocketed right back to before everything as you nod and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You don’t quite catch what Qin says when you disappear into the hull and unlatch the access panel, you’re not sure you really want to know, but you don’t miss the hatch closing up behind you.

“Mando?”

If Din hears you, he ignores your question, and the rumble of the engines lifting off almost takes you off your feet. You hurry to latch the access panel back up and wait until the ship steadies to shoot up the ladder and confront him.

Stars. Stars and three X-Wings dropping out of lightspeed right ahead of you.

Oh.

“Tracking beacon. They wouldn’t have let me leave alive.” So he did hear you.

He’s saved you. He risked precious seconds, ones he didn’t really have, just to make sure he got you out before the fighters got there. Something twinges in your chest when you think about your A-Wing sitting in the corner of the hangar, abandoned without a second thought and now blown to pieces. Suddenly your blanket feels a lot heavier around your shoulders.

You go to sink into a passenger seat, before you notice a pair of big brown eyes staring up at you. A child, not like any species you’ve seen before, but a child nonetheless.

“Who’s this?” You hate the way your voice comes out all squeaky, like you’re afraid of the answer. You are, there’s no doubt about that. But you don’t need either of them to know that.

“He’s a friend.”

There’s more to it than that, obviously, but you’re satisfied. One of your best friends is a six year old after all.

The child chirps as you take the other passenger seat, holding out a little metal ball in his three fingers. He waves it around, desperate to show it to you. It’s the knob from the landing gear shift. You’d know it anywhere, you were the one to screw it in the first time. Now that you glance out at the console, there’s not anything that’s changed about it at all. Even your A-Wing, in all it’s years of service, had had bits and pieces pulled out and replaced, and that had been brand new when you got it. So why hasn’t the Razor Crest?

“What were you doing back there?” He asks, and you’ve half a mind to tell him it’s none of his business. But you’re tired, and he’s using that soft tone that you only ever hear in the dark. You’re powerless against it.

“I went back after the war. It’s good money,” You frown, “It was, anyway.”

“You’ve been there since then?”

“Everybody belongs somewhere, Mando.” You don’t spit the nickname the way you might have wanted to in the past, but he recoils like you do.

But you don’t belong there, you never did. No, you belong in that little room at the inn in Mos Espa. You belong in the sky in a starfighter. You belong in some busy Yavin marketplace chatting with your friend, with the kid on your hip and Din by your side. You belong wherever you want to, he knows that’s not Ran’s station. And Din? He belongs with you. But it’s too late now.

He punches in the nav code for Yavin IV without even needing to ask where you want to go. It stabs the knife a little deeper, the way he knows you so well. The way he always has.

The child scrambles off of his seat and toddles over to yours, determined to pull himself up onto your lap by your bootlaces. Din doesn’t tell you not to let him up, so you haul the little green thing up and settle him on your thighs.

“Hi.” You introduce yourself, although it feels a little silly. You’re not sure how much he understands but he chirps in place of a reply before he gets distracted by the blanket around your shoulders. His little claws disappear into the wool and he drops his ball, utterly fascinated. You catch the discarded ball with your foot before it can roll too far and snap it up with your free hand. Din’s relieved you’re preoccupied with the little one, at least you don’t notice him staring.

“Is there a-?” The child snores softly in your lap, buried in the blanket he’d pulled off of you and wrapped himself in. You don’t mind. It should be used to comfort a kid again, the same way it’s provided for you all these years. Letting this baby borrow it is the least you can do for him. The kid has a history, if the way he twitches in his sleep is any indication, and you’re not about to deny him something he might never have had.

“In the hull, I’ll take him. You take the wheel?” Din easily, naturally, takes the child from you as you slide into the pilot’s seat. You don’t expect the easy domesticity to hurt quite so much. It feels like the galaxy is taunting you, forcing you to live a moment of a life you always knew you’d never get to have. You let yourself heave a shaky sigh when you hear Din’s feet hit the floor of the hull.

It’s been a long, long time since you sat in control of the Razor Crest, but it’s just as familiar as the day you told him to take it. You flick the autopilot switch off. Any idiot can fly in hyperspace, all you need to do is keep the ship straight, but you need to feel the controls under your hands. Anything to distract from the gaping hole in your chest.

Din doesn’t ask to swap back when he returns. He only settles in your abandoned seat, and you can feel his eyes heavy on your back. If he has anything to say, he keeps it to himself.

You hope he doesn’t notice how the house is exactly the same as when he was last here, when you were last here. There’s a fine layer of dust that’s settled over the furniture but two sets of footprints, one about your size and another smaller set, lead to the fridge. Several new drawings have been stuck up among the others. You might cry if you were in different company.

“Will he be alright?” You ask. Din had elected to leave the baby sleeping on the ship, as you’d touched down in a disused field across the track. He nods, trailing a gloved finger through the dust on the table.

“Will you?”

He’s not expecting that. But maybe he should have. You’ve never not been worried about him, not since the first time you let him touch you, but it takes him out at the knees every time. Even when he’s pushed you away, even when you’ve been suffering yourself, you have always opened your arms to him. He doesn’t deserve it.

“You could,” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you know you’ll regret it if he leaves before you ask, “Stay.”

Din reels back. He can’t. You know he can’t, but you asked anyway. It’s enough to make his blood boil. He’s not angry with you, he never is, it’s his fault he can’t say yes. That’s all he wants. To stay.

“There’s schools, and other kids. You’d both have protection here. You’d be safe.”

The sun starts to disappear behind Yavin, plunging the kitchen into a red glow the way it did last time, but there’s none of the peace it brought before. It glints off his armour as the hope in your eyes starts to die.

“I love you.”

How can the words he’s always wanted to hear make him so angry?

“Please! Every time I think I’m over you, you come back and turn everything upside down again. Please just give me something.” You can’t hold back anymore. You can’t stand here and pour your heart and soul out to a man who says nothing.

“You already have far too much of me!” He’s never raised his voice at you before, that alone stuns you speechless. So you just stare, chest heaving, waiting for anything to break the tension. And Din does another thing he never has with you, he fills the silence.

“You have my name. You have my creed. I have nothing left to give you.”

He leaves without another word, for the last time, and you can’t help but heave a choking sob before he’s even shut the door. His absence is everywhere.

He hurts.

Hurts like nothing’s ever hurt before in his life. Walking away from you, disappearing out of the door and knowing it’s the last time. You won’t let him back in after this.

He can’t get back to the Crest fast enough.

Din practically falls through the side entrance of the hull, ripping his armour off before the door’s even fully closed. His guts twist and his lungs burn and he wrenches his helmet off, sends it scattering into a corner. He’ll find it later. Right now he needs to find the hole he knows is burned into his flight suit. A blaster bolt, a stab wound- something. But he only finds old scars and skin where your touch still lingers.

No smoking hole in his side. No blood or wound. Just the absence of something important in his chest. An unfilled space. A gap between his ribs, something missing. He knows what it is.

His veins are somehow filled with fire and empty at the same time, knowing that would be the last time. The last time he gets to see you. And even though the hatred was so clear on your face, even though you were merciless in the words you hurled at him, he still thought you were beautiful. He’ll always think you’re beautiful, no matter how angry you are.

Because he loves you. And now it’s too fucking late.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@brothersdrxke @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean

#i wanna say i'm sorry but i'm not #lacuna #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #fic #liz does words #sfw

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shireness-says · 3 years

Text

The Set-Up Scam

Summary: They’ve always been friends first and foremost - Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - until suddenly, they’re something a little more too. But with a $600 betting pool on the line about when they’ll actually get together - well, maybe there’s incentive to keep the good news a secret. ~5.5k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3.

~~~~~

A/N: Merry Christmas, @nevertothethird! I was delighted to be your pair for @cssecretsanta2020. It’s been wonderful chatting with you, and I look forward to a full stalking. ;)

You said you liked secret dating, friends to lovers, and characters being forced to work together - so I, like a fool, tried to include all three. I hope you like the result!

Special thanks, as always, to my beta, @snidgetsafan - the greatest treasure under any tree.

Tagging: @ohmightydevviepuu, @welllpthisishappening, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @thejollyroger-writer, @superchocovian, @teamhook, @optomisticgirl, @winterbaby89, @searchingwardrobes, @katie-dub, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @phiralovesloki, @profdanglaisstuff

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

They’re friends, first and foremost. Best friends, really - Killian and Emma, Emma and Killian. Partners in crime and two peas in a pod and every other cliché there is (and Killian would definitely know all of them). It’s been that way since the very beginning, when Killian let her peek at his attendance quiz answers in that awful intro to astronomy class in college. Their relationship had grown from there: late nights in the library and each others’ dorm rooms, studying or watching movies or chatting, all the way through graduation and eventually grad school. They get each other in a way that usually doesn’t happen for Emma, both coming from rough backgrounds and determined to make the world a better place because of it. Hell, they even work together now at Misthaven County Middle School - Killian as an English teacher, and Emma as a guidance counselor.

And all that time, it’s been strictly platonic.

It’s not like Emma hasn’t looked. He’s an objectively good looking man, and smart and sweet and funny. But he’d been in some “it’s complicated” situation with a grad student when they’d met, and then Emma was in that weird period where she and Graham gave it a shot, and by the time they were both available… well, by that time, they’d been Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A collective, a pair, absolutely entwined every way but romantically. He’d become her person, and it wasn’t worth risking that. There was no guarantee a romantic relationship would work out, anyways - or that Killian felt the attraction too.

The thing, though, is that they’re Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. Always together, always in each other’s stories, two birds of a feather. People constantly think that they’re together - or should be.

Emma doesn’t really mind, most of the time. She and Killian usually think it’s pretty funny, trading stories back and forth on his or her couch. Where it gets annoying is when each and every one of their friends are determined they should be dating. It’s been years of meaningful looks and hints about “so why aren’t you seeing anyone, Emma?” - but the last straw is the stupid, stupid bet.

“I just don’ unnerstand why you and Killian aren’t a couple!” slurs Mary Margaret, assistant principal and friend, at her yearly end-of-summer bash. “You’re ovviously in loooooooooove.”

“Sure we are, Mary Margaret,” Emma placates.

“But why haven’t you yet?” she demands. “You made me lose the pool!”

That draws Emma up short. “I’m sorry, what?”

The little pixie-haired brunette frowns. “Don’t you know? We’ve had a betting pool going for ages about when you’d get together this year. I thought for sure it’d be the Fourth of July.”

It’s a good guess, actually - Ruby throws a famously boozy bash every year at her grandmother’s diner, conveniently situated right below the inn. It’d make sense for them to get drunk and take things upstairs - except for the fact that none of this is rooted in sense in any way, shape, or form.

“That obviously didn’t happen,” Mary Margaret frowns sorrowfully, staring down into her plastic cup full of god-knows-what. It doesn’t last long, though, as she perks right back up. “But they let me make a new guess! I’ve got my money on the Friday after your birthday.”

“How much money are we talking here?” Emma can’t help but ask. It’s like a compulsion, one she doesn’t like or understand.

“Five hundred and fifty dollars.” At least that’s what she thinks Mary Margaret says; the slurring gets particularly bad on the f-sounds. It’s an astounding sum. Truly stupid.

Kind of tempting.

“And everyone bet that it would happen this year?” she makes sure to clarify.

“Yup!” Mary Margaret pops the p-sound and then giggles to herself about the noise.

“Then I’m putting fifty dollars on it not happening this year. That Killian and I won’t get together.”

———

She means it at the time, too. Because yeah, there’s sometimes that niggling little what if?, but they’ve known each other for eight years. Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. It’s not going to happen - honestly she’s not even sure she would want it to.

Until.

It’s not the Friday after her birthday, when they’re all going to hit the bar, but it’s the night before her birthday - a Tuesday. Killian comes over to grade vocab quizzes and eat greasy pizza, and stays to drink beer and watch stupid baking shows with her on the couch. Honestly, in so many ways, it’s a night like any other: two friends, just enjoying each other’s company.

Until.

Maybe it’s the beers. Maybe something’s been building for longer than she ever thought. Maybe it’s just that they’re both feeling good and, well, it is her birthday. But Killian kisses her - or she kisses Killian - they kiss each other and it’s like something slots into place. Like of course this was going to happen - they were just waiting for the perfect moment. It makes sense, in a way that Emma hasn’t let herself think about; he’s the person she trusts most, the best man she knows, probably the most important person in her life. Her best friend - and, probably, something more.

“That was…” he gasps, some indeterminable amount of time later. Somehow, he’s wound up on top of her on the couch - not that she’s complaining.

“Only the beginning,” Emma completes, smirking in a way she definitely picked up from him.

Now that this has started, she has no intention of stopping.

———

“Ok, don’t kill me - or, like, run away immediately - but I need a favor. A huge one,” Emma says much later, both of them naked and sated beneath her sheets.

Killian laughs beside her, peering up from the pillows with a smile. “After that, darling, I’m predisposed to give you just about anything you want.”

“And I’ll give it to you again,” she quips back, mostly to make him keep laughing. It works. “But seriously. Did you know that everyone’s got a bet going on us?”

That pops his head up. “I’m sorry, a bet? I… What? Who?”

“Seems like pretty much everyone. Ruby, Mary Margaret, David, Robin, Belle… I could go on and on. A six hundred dollar pool on when we get together.”

“Typical,” Killian mutters - though Emma catches a fond note in his tone. “Who’s the lucky winner, then?”

“Ok, this is where the favor comes in.” Hopefully this isn’t a breaking point for him; Emma would hate to have this taste of them, only to have it ripped away from her. “See, Mary Margaret told me about this when she got trashed at the back to school party, and I’d had a few too and was all hopped up on righteous fury or whatever, and I kind of… put fifty dollars in the pot that we wouldn’t get together this year at all.”

Killian stares at her for a moment, and Emma’s frankly scared that he’s going to get out of bed and go - but instead, he bursts into a near-hysterical cackle. “So you want to keep this a secret until the new year, so you can win the pot?”

Emma grins, knowing she must look like the cat that ate the canary (or however that weird-ass saying goes - again, English is Killian’s thing). “Exactly. We could spend it on a weekend getaway or something.”

“I’m in, then. Under the radar.”

“It’s just two months and change,” Emma says. “It’ll speed by. How hard can it be?”

———

Turns out - their friends are determined to make it as hard as possible. Even if they don’t know it.

Things are fine, at first. In fact, nothing really changes: Emma and Killian still show up at each others’ doors most nights, and Killian comes to hang out and grade papers in her office during his free periods most days. It’s just that their evenings are now filled with kisses and touches, and those afternoons in her office with all kinds of promises of things to come. It’s thrilling, in a way, to put on the front of normality for everyone else while only they know the truth. It’s nice, too, to be able to get their feet underneath them in this relationship without so many prying eyes watching them figure it all out.

Just because they don’t know, though, doesn’t mean their friends stop trying. There’s a bet on the line, after all, and their friends have never exactly been ones to step back and let things naturally run their course. Not for those busybodies; not with six hundred dollars and Emma and Killian’s supposed happiness on the line.

(The fact that they’re right - that the two of them really are happiest together - is irrelevant.)

David, of all people, is the first to start meddling.

“Do you guys want to get dinner?” he asks out of the blue one day - calls Emma up on her phone and everything. “You and Killian and me and Mary Margaret, I mean.”

Emma’s antenna raises immediately. “What, like a double date? C’mon, David —”

“No! No,” he says hastily - a little too hastily, Emma thinks. “No, a cousin of mine - Kris, you’ve met him - he’s opening up his own restaurant. Some place with Scandinavian food, I guess?”

“That’s actually a thing?”

“I guess. I don’t know, he studied abroad in Norway in college. Anyways, he could use a little business, support or whatever, so Mary Margaret and I figured we’d bring some extra people along. You know, help him out. And maybe Scandinavian food is good after all.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The line sits silent for a moment, before David breaks. “So… you in?”

And as much as Emma suspects this is all some elaborate set-up - well, it’s supposed to be to help someone else. David’s cousin, who she has in fact met and is really a good guy. And so she reluctantly agrees. “Yeah, I’m in. One of us will have to check with Killian if he’s available —”

“What, he’s not right there with you?”

(He is, his lips kiss-swollen and pulled into a delicious smirk, but that’s not the point and none of David’s business.)

“ — but yeah, I’m down.”

In the week between the call and the dinner, Emma actually finds herself starting to look forward to it. Yeah, it won’t be a real date - not with David and Mary Margaret there - but it’s still a chance to wear a pretty dress that’ll make Killian’s eyes bug a little. She’ll have to pick something he’ll have fun taking off of her later, once they’ve pretended to go back to their own homes.

Emma’s just pulling into the parking lot, however, when her phone rings, David’s name popping up on the screen.

“We’re not going to make it tonight,” he says without preamble, followed by the most fake-ass cough Emma’s ever heard in her life. “We’re sick.”

“Yeah, sick off your own lies,” Emma mutters. “Alright, well, I guess we’ll go another time —”

“Oh no, I insist you guys still have dinner. You and Killian deserve to have a night off!”

“David, c’mon, don’t play dumb —”

He ignores her. “Besides, you’ll be doing me - and Kris - a huge favor. I already told him to charge whatever you guys get to me. Splurge a little, have dessert and a bottle of wine. It’s all on me.”

Killian climbs out of his own car as David pleads his case, cocking his head in confusion at the no doubt frustrated look on Emma’s face. He looks like he wants to kiss it better; Emma wishes he could actually do so.

“Fine,” she caves. “If you’re sure. But I’m running up the bill.”

“You say that like it’s a surprise.”

Emma takes particular glee in ending the call. She should have seen this coming. “Looks like David has come down with a possibly fatal cough, so he and Mary Margaret aren’t coming tonight,” she tells Killian, rolling her eyes. No need to resist that particular urge.

He snorts. “Ah, liar-itis. I thought he might be coming down with a case.”

“Complicated by meddler’s cough. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course not.” He dips down to capture her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss - another urge they don’t have to resist with none of their friends around to see it. “You look lovely tonight, Swan.”

She smirks back. “I know.”

“Of course you do,” he laughs. “I’m sure you wore that just to torment me through dinner. Now, shall we?”

“We shall.” Emma slips her hand through his offered arm. “Dinner’s on David, by the way.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

———

“So, how was dinner?” David asks the next day, his cough mysteriously cleared up.

“Good,” Emma replies, knowing exactly what he’s digging for. “Your cousin’s got a good lingonberry cheesecake. Don’t worry, Killian and I totally ran up the bill. Kris has been well supported. You’re welcome.”

“And?” he demands.

Emma makes sure to play up her confusion. “And… what? It was a great dinner, might even go back if I ever have a date, and then I went home. Honestly, what did you expect to happen, David?”

Even through the phone, she can almost hear him audibly deflate. Something like a sigh, or perhaps the sound of his entire plan collapsing in on itself. Personally, Emma thinks it’s hilarious.

(It’s especially funny when she vividly remembers the way Killian had stripped her out of that dress, can still feel the scratch of his beard on her inner thighs.)

(But again - those are things that David doesn’t need to know.)

———

The set-ups multiply like rabbits, and Emma starts to notice her and Killian being forced into more and more situations together, just the two of them. Fuck only knows why they think these clumsy attempts will work; after all, Emma and Killian held out for 8 years of each other’s company before finally getting together (without anyone’s help, she might add). Still,

Trivia night is a weekly tradition for them all, down at the Rabbit Hole. Some weeks, the turnout is good; sometimes, not so much. They usually meet up at someone’s house and carpool from there because there’s not a ton of parking spots outside the bar, and it’s always worked well - two, maybe three cars instead of a half dozen or more. It’s a good time, and Emma always finds herself looking forward to Thursdays.

Tonight, they’ve met at Robin’s, Killian’s former roommate. It’s a good crowd tonight, too - Robin and his fiance Marian, Mary Margaret with David, Belle the librarian, Ruby and Mulan, even Graham and Lance and Tink. The gang’s all here, probably trying to let loose a bit before holiday obligations set in, and they’re raring to go - all twelve of them.

Emma hopes that it’s not planned - that there just happen to be two cars and then some worth of people here - but it’s more likely planned. Robin probably twisted their arms to come, just for this.

“Emma, would you mind checking the door one more time?” he calls as they congregate in the driveway. “I’m sure I locked it, but I’ve just got that niggling little feeling…”

“Sure, no problem.” And it isn’t - it’s checking the damn door. Except it’s actually winding down his stupidly picturesque front garden path to the front door, and then having to maneuver around the always-unlocked outer glass door to make sure that the real door is locked, and then maneuvering and winding and everything back… and by the time Emma makes it back, everyone’s already piled into Mary Margaret’s station wagon and Robin’s little SUV, even the middle seats everyone usually hates, leaving just the conniving man himself and Killian standing on the asphalt.

“Sorry, looks like the two of you will be riding together,” Robin says, not seeming remotely sorry. “This is convenient anyways! I know how much time you two spend together, if you decide that it’s easier to crash together afterwards… it wouldn’t be a problem for the extra car to stay here overnight.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t be,” Emma grumbles. “I don’t suppose you have any underlying motive here, do you Robin? Say, to the tune of six hundred dollars?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he responds cheerily. “I just really, really want you to know that you can keep your options open. And, you know, other euphemistic things if the urge moves you.”

Asshole.

(Emma does not leave her car at Robin’s overnight - but that doesn’t stop Killian from meeting her at her place afterwards.

“This euphemistic enough for you, love?” he teases as Emma pulls at his shirt, trying to tug the cotton tee over his head.

“How’s this for a euphemism: fuck me.”

“That’s not exactly how that word works, Swan.”

“I could not possibly give fewer shits about semantics than I do right now, Killian, unless it somehow relates to you getting your pants off.”

Somehow, even in the midst of their frantic stripping, he manages to laugh. “As you wish.”

She’s always preferred straight talking anyways.)

———

“Thank god I found you both!” Mary Margaret declares, bursting into Emma’s office a little too dramatically for her tastes. Until now, she and Killian had been having a wonderful lunch together, but that’s obviously a thing of the past now.

“That seems a little extreme for a Friday,” Killian comments mildly as he sets his cafeteria burger back down on the styrofoam tray. Personally, Emma thinks the cafeteria food is disgusting, but Killian’s got a real fondness for the cheeseburgers, and especially the french fries. No one’s perfect, she guesses. “What terrible impending tragedy can Emma or I save you from, Mary Margaret?”

“Kathryn’s father is in the hospital, so she and Fred can’t work their assigned booth at the Winter Carnival tomorrow.” Storybrooke County School District’s charity carnival is a tradition every winter - one Mary Margaret takes very seriously. Something that’s clearly about to come back and bite them all in the ass. “Would you two be able to cover tomorrow? You’d be doing me such a huge favor…”

Killian raises a single eyebrow as he turns to meet Emma’s eye - that eyebrow that always seems like a dare. “My schedule’s clear this weekend. Count me in. What do you say, Swan, think you can find room in your schedule to save Mary Margaret from the tragedy of all tragedies?”

Emma rolls her eyes at the way he’s putting it on thick, but truth be told, her only plans had been spending the day with Killian. Might as well. “Sure, what the hell,” she says, reaching for another bite of her microwave pizza. “I don’t have anything else going on.”

In retrospect, Emma realizes that Mary Margaret could have done something terrible with this - assigned them to the kissing booth or something. God, she hopes that there’s not a kissing booth at a middle school carnival, but it feels like just the kind of thing she’d pull. Thankfully, they’re set up at the ring toss game. It’s not strenuous in the least; they don’t even have to take money, just paper tickets. Really, the only questionable thing is that they’re crammed right together in the box formed between the booth walls and the counter and the table of bottles behind them. Maybe that’s something that would have bothered her a few weeks ago, back when they were Emma and Killian but not Emma and Killian. Now, it’s just an excuse to get right up in his space and enjoy all those little touches, right under everyone’s nose.

(Maybe, every time they have to duck under the counter to retrieve poorly-thrown rings, Killian takes the opportunity to steal a quick kiss while no one else can see. And maybe - just maybe - Emma uses those same opportunities to steal her own kisses right back.)

“Soooooo, how’s it going?” Mary Margaret chirps when she pops up out of nowhere mid-afternoon. It’s like she thinks she’ll find them making out in the middle of the carnival or something. Which… fair. The urge is there. But they’re professionals - and Emma wants that money, dammit. She’s not caving here.

“Just fine, Mare,” Emma replies. “Nothing worth reporting.”

“There’s not? You two are looking awfully cozy in there… nothing to report?”

“Well, you’re the one who set up the booths, so…”

“Aye, just making the best of it,” Killian helpfully adds.

Emma almost feels guilty about the way that Mary Margaret visibly deflates.

“You know this was another ridiculous set-up, right, love?” Killian asks once their friend has walked away. “She probably never even needed our help. It was all a ploy.”

“I see it now,” Emma sighs. “I had just weirdly hoped she’d be above all that bullshit.”

Killian quirks that eyebrow yet again. “Mary Margaret? Infamous meddler? Of course not. It’s cute that you thought that though, darling.”

“Oh, shut up.”

(“Mary Margaret told me to take the weekend off, that they’d over-scheduled,” Kathryn tells Emma later when she tries to ask how the other woman’s father is doing. “Was that not the case?”)

(Fucking figures.)

———

Ruby, frankly, is not a surprise. In fact, if there was one person Emma would figure would be pulling this bullshit, it’s Ruby. The girl’s too competitive for her own damn good - not to mention that mile-wide chaotic streak running through her soul.

“Pucker up!” she crows, thrusting what Emma assumes is a sprig of mistletoe over her and Killian’s heads. They’re at Ruby and Mulan’s place for… some party; it’s probably, maybe holiday themed, but Ruby’s never needed an excuse to throw a party. Anything to get them all drunk and laughing and forgetting about the stresses of the week.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma demands. “Ruby, don’t be stupid. This isn’t college anymore.”

“Oh, like we ever did this in college,” Ruby scoffs with that devious twinkle in her eye. “Besides, college shenanigans are a state of mind. And I’m not giving that up. Now c’mon, no weaseling out of this.”

“It is the rules,” Mulan points out, appearing to slip her arm around Ruby’s waist and drop an affectionate - if slightly tipsy - kiss on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you hear that? Smart half says it’s the rules. So go ahead and pucker up and kiss him. And then go make out for a while and maybe bone each other so I can win the pool.”

Killian blushes a little bit at the phrasing - something that’s surprisingly cute on him, knowing how often he usually tosses around the innuendoes and exactly how dirty a mouth he has when they’re alone. Before Emma knows what he’s doing, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, and then another, smacking one for good measure. “Who are we to deny the great, determined Ruby Lucas?” he proclaims grandly. “One kiss: delivered.”

Ruby’s face gets a bit mutinous; it’s the only word for that particular storm cloud, really. “No it isn’t! That’s cheating!”

“Eh. Technically, it was a kiss.” God bless Mulan for being the only one willing to go against Ruby when she’s got a plan; perks of being the girlfriend, Emma supposes.

“And more importantly, Rubes, that’s all you’re going to get from us.” And that’s Emma’s last word on the subject.

(“Happy Christmas, darling,” Killian whispers into her neck later once they’re back at her place, dangling his own sprig of mistletoe over their heads. “How about it? C’mon, give us a kiss.”

Emma is more than happy to comply.)

———

Emma wouldn’t say it’s common for her to get calls from the school librarian, Belle, but it’s not unusual either. So when Belle calls her up in mid-December, shortly before Christmas break, Emma doesn’t think twice about it.

“The new Scholastic catalogs are here,” Belle informs her. “I haven’t started sending them to classrooms yet, but if you want to take a look now…”

“I’ll be right there.” Yes, the catalogs are full of books for middle school students, but Emma still loves those things. They’re chock-full of nostalgia.

“I haven’t even taken them out of the box yet,” Belle explains when Emma meets her at the check-out desk. “They’re all still in the back room. Here, I’ll let you in.”

That should have been Emma’s clue here. Why would a box of new catalogs, just arrived in the mail, already be shoved into the storage closet? But Emma’s too excited about the prospect of those newsprint magazines to think about it. By the time Emma realizes there’s nothing in this little closet but printer paper and old yearbooks… Belle’s already closed and locked the door, trapping Emma inside.

So it’s yet another set up, most likely. It’s a good thing she’s not claustrophobic, at least.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Emma can hear Killian’s voice outside the door.

“How many boxes did you say it was, Belle? I’m happy to help haul, but I’m just wondering if we should get a hand cart to assist.”

“Oh no, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Belle’s voice responds. “Just a few trips for each of us. Right in here…”

And suddenly, Killian’s in the cramped little closet too, and the door is shut and latched behind them. Gee, what a surprise.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emma comments dryly. Somehow, probably on some kind of ridiculous romantic instinct, Killian’s hands have already found their way to her hips. It’s nice, really, ignoring the circumstances.

His face is adorably confused, looking around the room and back to the door and then to Emma’s own face and all over again. “Did she just lock us in here?”

“Yeah, keep up, Jones,” Emma teases. “I assume another stupid set-up effort.”

That makes the confusion disperse alright, a smirk full of promise creeping across his face instead. “If that’s the case… we’ll just have to make the most of it.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she warns. “There’s a camera in here.”

“So? It’s not like she’s watching the monitors.”

“So, Belle recently started dating Will Scarlet in IT. You want to take the chance she locked us in here, and forgot to have her boyfriend monitor us?”

“Fuck,” Killian swears, dropping his head back in dramatic emphasis. “They’re really going overboard, aren’t they?”

“I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”

Thirty minutes later, when Emma and Killian have done nothing but talk and try to find some little extra space in the crowded closet, Belle finally lets them out, just in time for the end of Killian’s free period.

“I’m sure you have no idea how that happened,” he comments, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“It’s just the weirdest thing,” Belle agrees.

Well, that’s one way of putting it.

(Emma makes it up to him, several times over, at her place that night, with a take-out pizza to boot.)

———

After what feels like an eternity, it’s finally here: New Year’s Eve. As long as they make it to midnight and the new year proper without anyone finding out, this whole ridiculous farce is over, and they can be the couple they’ve technically already been since October. Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - but more than they had been before.

They’d spent Christmas together - not that that was anything unusual. With everyone else going to visit family, the two of them often spend the day together, eating take-out Chinese and watching holiday movies. Killian’s got a brother back in England that he makes sure to call, and some years Liam will fly over, but Killian usually saves his visits for summer vacation, when he can stay in whatever little English hamlet his brother calls home for weeks at a time. There’s always something nice about spending the holidays together, just the two of them, but it was extra special this year. Who knew Emma was the kind of girl who wanted to trade kisses under the Christmas tree between swapping gifts?

(Killian, apparently - but then again, he’s always claimed to know her better than she knows herself.)

“Just a few more hours,” he murmurs against her neck, twining his arms about her waist from behind as Emma carefully brushes on mascara. “Few more hours, and then it’s all in the open.”

“Thank god for that, too. After all the PDA we’ve gotten from certain people all these years, I’m looking forward to rubbing it in their faces a bit.”

They carpool to Mary Margaret and David’s, just like they do every year. It’s routine, really; Emma always crashes at Killian’s after the annual New Year’s Eve party so that someone is there to help her with the hangover in the morning. Killian makes better hashbrowns than anyone she knows - even Granny - and they always manage to pull her out of the worst of her misery. He’s good about taking care of her, too, with water and Advil and making sure to shut all the shades as tightly as possible. They even share a bed a lot of years; it’s just that tonight, Emma knows there will be a lot fewer clothes involved.

They drink. They eat. They mingle. Sometimes, they’re together, carefully not touching, and sometimes they drift apart. That’s how this party usually works, after all - and Emma is nothing if not committed to seeing this entire thing through, pretending nothing is different this year, that she and Killian definitely aren’t together. Nothing to see here, folks.

God, she’s so fucking lucky he didn’t cut and run once it became obvious just how much of a competitive lunatic Emma is.

Finally, though, it’s the moment - less than a minute left. Killian is already waiting for her by the patio doors, just like he promised. Emma is only too happy to wind her way over there, grinning when she finally finds herself in front of her boyfriend - about to be secret no longer. Behind them, the assembled drunken crowd loudly counts down the last seconds of the year. They keep their hands determinedly to themselves - just as agreed, so no one can try and claim anything happened before the strike of the new year - but Killian still looks at her with that twinkle in his eyes and wiggling eyebrows. It’s anticipation, and excitement, and a good bit of joy - knowing that soon, this will all be out in the open. No more keeping their hands to themselves.

“You ready for this, love?” he says just loud enough for her to hear as the clock hits ten seconds.

“Hell yeah,” she grins back - because she is. She so is. This has been a long time coming - years in the making, really - and you know what? The whole secrecy may have helped her wrap her head around the whole thing, as well as win her the pot, but she’s ready to take it public. Maybe rub it in everyone’s faces just how happy she is and how she did this on her own schedule. Why the hell not?

Cheers erupt all around them, and Emma’s grin stretches to something that almost hurts her face. Killian looks much the same. “Happy New Year, love,” he says, finally pulling her towards him by the hips. “I think it’ll be our best one yet.”

Fireworks are going on outside, lighting up the snow on the ground, but Emma can’t be bothered to pay attention - not when Killian attacks her lips with purpose, grinning happily into the kiss before she insistently deepens it, slipping her tongue into his mouth to play. It’s just another in a series of kisses, they know - but it’s more than that. It’s a display, in the best way, declaring them them.

Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A pair, a unit, a couple.

“HA!” shrieks someone across the room as their make-out finally gains attention. Emma thinks it might be Ruby - though, at this point, it might be Mary Margaret. Maybe both. It’s definitely Ruby who materializes just as Emma and Killian finally break apart with a laugh. “It’s about fucking time!”

“Yeah,” Emma agrees - something that seems to short-circuit Ruby’s brain for a moment, if that look on her face is anything to go by. “It really was. And you know what else?”

Ruby shakes her head mutely, that twist of her eyebrows demonstrating that she’s still trying to get her bearings about what the fuck is happening here.

“It’s the new year. That pot is mine.”

“That’s my girl,” Killian whispers in her ear.

Best. New Year’s. Ever.

———

On January 1st of the new year, Emma and Killian - Killian and Emma - they, them, a pair, a unit, a couple take their six hundred dollars in winnings and treat themselves to a goddamn massive lunch at Granny’s. Together. In public. Because they deserve it.

Grilled cheese has never tasted so good to Emma - especially the crumbs off the corners of Killian’s lips.

#csss20 #cssecretsanta2020 #cs ff #captain swan #cs fanfiction #my writing #the set-up scam #secret dating #friends to lovers #oh my god and they were ACCOMPLICES #happy holidays everyone!

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 3 years

Text

Promises

He didn't have a lot of friends. That required trust, and trust just wasn’t something Billy Hargrove did. Except with Steve Harrington, apparently. Steve was his friend, which was fine. Billy would have preferred a lot more, but that did not seem particularly likely. Not for lack of trying on Billy's part, honestly. At this point, Billy was so overtly flirty with Steve that he was worried he had overshot genuine interest and was fast approaching the realm of parody. He had spilled his beer on Steve no fewer than four times in the past several months in the hopes that Steve would go to change out of his wet clothes and realize halfway through that just...hanging out in his underwear would be totally fine. Instead, Steve always disappeared into Billy's bedroom, completely at home in Billy's space, and came back wearing Billy's clothes. And that was somehow worse?

And the thing was—the thing was!—Steve clearly wasn’t uninterested. He blushed when Billy teased him. His breath hitched when Billy touched him sometimes. His pupils went wide when Billy stretched or flexed or did that one thing with his tongue. And he didn’t avoid touching Billy, like just about everybody else did, or touch him like he was something fragile or broken. He touched Billy casually all the fucking time. He hugged him when he arrived, and fell asleep against his shoulder, and tucked his feet under Billy’s thigh on the couch, and kissed him on the cheek before he left. He even kissed him on the fucking forehead sometimes, which made Billy feel small and blushy and unbearably cared for.

Billy wondered sometimes if he should just be honest with Steve, but that was tricky, wasn’t it? Because in this particular case, he couldn’t be honest with Steve without betraying a little too much about himself. And it’s not like he had all that many secrets left. Neil was gone and his treatment of Billy was common knowledge, at least among the people who knew what had actually happened at the mall. So, the vast majority of the people Billy actually talked to anymore. It turned out that competent doctors could tell the difference between recent monster trauma and years of physical abuse, and Steve's little group of nerds and their various hangers-on were around enough and had overheard enough to put it together. The fact that Billy was not actually into girls was also common knowledge among that same subset of people, but only because Billy had been in a coma, so he hadn't been able to mention to Eleven that she might not want to share that little tidbit with her friends. Billy wasn’t mad—couldn’t be, not at her—and with Neil gone, he supposed he had a little less to fear on that front. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to do anything about it, aside from continuing to flirt shamelessly with Steve. So he only really had the one big secret left.

Here's how it was: Billy Hargrove, at the time that he was impaled by a massive interdimensional flesh monster, did not have a whole lot to live for. He had a shitty father and a mother who had fucked off quite a while back and a stepsister who had not yet given up on him for some reason, but who was also probably better off without him. He had a hopeless crush on a gorgeous, oblivious straight boy; several delightful mental images of that same straight boy in a frankly pornographic sailor outfit that he somehow had to wear for work; and treasured memories of California, but not quite enough money or guts to fuck off back to the beach where he came from, with or without Steve Harrington. All of that stuff was good, and it got Billy through the day sometimes, but none of it was actually something to live for. Steve Harrington in that sailor outfit came the closest, but Billy was never going to get to take it off of him, so what was the fucking point?

And Billy knew, even though he didn't exactly remember it, that it had gotten pretty bad for him a few times as he was recovering. Like, 'they were sure they were going to lose him' bad. And people had said a lot of fucking stupid things to him, both while he was in the hospital and after he got out, about fate and love and redemption. About holding on for the sake of the people you cared about. About not knowing what you had until you lost it. About how he must feel so lucky to be alive. And Billy hated all of it so fucking much. He wasn't alive because he had had some big epiphany about how precious life was, or because fate had spared him, or because he thought anyone on the planet would spend more than about thirty seconds being sad if he died. What he did have, what had actually kept him going when it got bad, were these...well, they weren’t anywhere close to clear enough to be called memories.

They came from that long, hazy period when his body was gradually knitting itself back together. When the boundary between being asleep and being awake hadn't seemed real at all. When he had almost no visual memories, aside from brief flashes of fluorescent lights or the shadows of people moving around above him. He had a handful of half-remembered phrases in various voices: Max whispering sorry, El whispering I won't tell. And these...other sentences. These promises, in Steve Harrington’s low, husky voice.

Billy was in no way certain that they were real. He didn't know how much of anything from that time was real. What they were was meaningful, which made it fucking impossible to talk about them. Unlike all the bullshit about fate and family and redemption, they had helped him. Had helped a lot, actually. Had given him something tangible to live for when it would have been so much easier to just let it all slip away. But that was the other thing--they weren't exactly things that Steve Harrington would actually, conceivably say to him. They were things he would have killed to hear from Steve, would still kill to hear from Steve, but Steve was sweet. Goofy, affectionate, kind. Unfailingly supportive. An invaluable friend throughout Billy's recovery. An invaluable friend who consistently, gracefully deflected Billy’s obvious flirting. It hardly seemed possible that he had said those things, and Billy really didn’t want to find out that he hadn’t. It was too awful to contemplate. Because, shit, they still kept him going sometimes, a year and a half later.

The first one came to him from far away, like he was hearing it from the bottom of a well. “I swear to God, Billy, if you make it through this I’ll let you choke on my dick whenever you feel like it.” So, like, there was a fair amount to unpack there. First of all, Steve almost never actually called him Billy, even now. And secondly, literally everything else about that sentence. It wasn't possible that it was real. Billy had to have made it up, given himself a fucking reason not to move toward the light or whatever. And if that had been the only one, he would have dismissed it as an obvious fabrication of his own mind without a second thought. But it wasn’t.

The second one was a little clearer, though all of them were maddeningly hazy. Had he actually felt Steve’s breath against the shell of his ear while he'd said it? It was impossible to say. “Hey gorgeous, hang in there, ok? Wouldn’t want you to die before I get the chance to fuck you so hard you forget your own goddamn name.” It was true—he absolutely did not want to die before that happened. That one had gotten him through some bleak nights, even after he woke up. He still got half hard every time he thought about it.

The next one was maybe Billy’s favorite. Although, honestly they were all his favorite. He wasn't sure he had ever treasured anything more. The third time, he was almost sure he could feel the warmth radiating off of Steve’s body as Steve leaned in next to his ear. “Come on, tiger, you gotta get through this so you can show me absolutely everything you can do with that tongue.” A little less filthy, maybe, but no less motivating. He did want to do that, very much. He had thought about it quite a bit while he was in the hospital. He still thought about it just about every time Steve came over to his apartment, which was often.

The fourth one changed it up a bit. “We’re going to sit there on the sand and watch the sun set over the ocean, and I’m going to make you cream your swim trunks right there on the beach.” And goddamn, that was quite the mental image. Fuck a bunch of holding on for the people you cared about; that was worth living for.

The fifth one was ragged, a little desperate. “You can’t die, baby. I’ve never let anybody put their dick in me before, and you have to live so you can do it.” That one came with the gentle sensation of a hand in his, the phantom press of lips to his temple. He was pretty sure he woke up just a few days after that one. And rightfully fucking so, honestly.

So yeah. He still had the one secret. And there was no fucking way to talk about it without revealing way too much about himself. So he didn't talk about it, and he was never going to talk about it, and he was going to go to his grave not knowing if any of it was real, and he was going to be fine with that because there weren't any other options. Until Steve slipped up.

It was far too early on a Saturday morning. Steve had arrived at an even more ungodly hour and had dragged Billy out of bed for some weekend trip. He wouldn't say where they were going, but he promised it was going to be great, and Billy could sleep in the car, and they were going to have the time of their lives. So Billy was slouched grumpily in the passenger seat, nursing an enormous coffee and periodically glaring at everything out the window for having the audacity to exist at this hour. He didn't glare at Steve. All of this was Steve's fault, but Billy couldn't be mad at him when he looked all sleepy and his hair was a mess and he was wearing his fucking glasses instead of his usual contacts. Billy couldn't be mad at him under any other circumstances either, but he deliberately didn't think too much about that, so it was fine.

Billy watched out of the corner of his eye as Steve sipped his own coffee and stifled a yawn. Steve had spent the first half hour of the drive not talking at all, but the coffee was apparently kicking in, so now he was trying to get Billy excited about his mystery plan.

“Come on, tiger, you’re going to love it,” he finally said. Billy wasn’t fully awake, so it took a second for it to land. Come on, tiger. When it did, Billy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. It could easily have been a coincidence; Steve would have been fine if he had just played it off, but that's not what happened. When Billy looked up, Steve was staring intently out the windshield, resolutely not looking at him. But his shoulders were creeping up around his ears and his face had gone scarlet. Billy felt a grin spreading across his face. Suddenly, he was on top of the goddamn world; this was shaping up to be the best day of his life. He stared at Steve’s profile for a long moment as the flush from his face spread down his neck. The atmosphere in the car was electric. Billy took a deep breath and tried to get himself under control. Steve's entire demeanor had hope beating wildly in his chest, but there was still room for this to end in disappointment.

“Absolutely everything, huh?” Billy said it quietly, carefully, deliberately, and then he held his breath. Steve made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and Billy felt giddy. Steve had been right--they had only been on the road for forty minutes, but Billy was already having the time of his life on this trip. Steve didn't say anything, but after a few long moments of silence, he pulled the car over onto the shoulder. After he carefully put the car in park and turned it off, he dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. He didn't lift his head when he spoke.

“I didn't think you remembered," he said slowly. Billy didn't say anything and after a moment, Steve gave a little sigh and continued, still talking mostly to the floor. "The first time, it was a fucking Hail Mary. You were declining fast and nothing was working, and I just...I had a hunch. So I waited until everyone else had left the room and I tried it." Billy was absolutely delighted picturing it, Steve flushed bright red, leaning down to whisper stuff about his dick into Billy's ear. "They kicked me out right after that, at about four am. They told me to go home and get some rest, and to be prepared for bad news. But when I got back to the hospital a few hours later, you were doing better.” Steve cleared his throat. “Apparently you started improving shortly after I left. I told myself it was probably a fucking coincidence, but part of me thought that maybe it had actually worked." He huffed out a laugh. "I could barely fucking believe that you weren’t dead; it was bad. And then a couple of weeks later, it got bad again. So I tried it again. And you started doing better again. And then it was like this secret that we had. That I had,” Steve corrected himself. He sat up and dropped his head back against the headrest, but he still wouldn't look at Billy. He stared out the windshield instead. His face was still bright red. “And then you actually woke up. I didn’t know if you remembered any of it, and I didn’t want to be the kind of person who would come onto you while you were in a fucking coma and then act like you owed me something afterwards, so I kept my mouth shut.”

"Steve," Billy said softly. Steve rubbed his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Billy stopped breathing for a second.

"Don't," he said quietly. They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Billy decided that he had to know what exactly Steve was apologizing for. “Did you...” he started to ask, but he found that he couldn’t finish the sentence. Steve glanced at him and his face softened before his eyes shied away again.

“Mean it? Yes. Fuck yes. Every word.”

“Then what the fuck, Steve?” Billy had been beyond obvious for months. Steve sighed. His hands came back up to his face, and then he sat up straighter and squared his shoulders.

“You just...you went through something so awful, and it was like...your world got so small. You were trapped in the hospital, and now you're trapped in Hawkins until they clear you to leave." Steve glanced over again, and his voice got smaller. "I just...I really wanted you, but I didn't want you to do something you'd regret just because I was there, you know? And I still don't want you to feel trapped into something just because you can't leave this goddamn town. I would never want you to be with me just because you don't have any other choices."

Ok, so there was plenty to unpack there, and all of it was wrong. Except the part where Steve said he wanted Billy--that part was the best thing he had ever heard. Well, the sixth best thing he'd ever heard. There was a silence while Billy thought about what he wanted to say. He took a breath to psych himself up.

"The first thing you should probably know is that I was into you well before any of the Mindflayer stuff even happened. So there's that." Billy cleared his throat, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. "And the second thing you should know is that I got cleared to leave Hawkins over a month ago." Steve's head whipped around, wide eyes on Billy's face.

"Then why..." Steve trailed off. Billy had considered leaving, but only briefly. He wanted to go back to the beach, he did, but not by himself. Not anymore.

"Steve," Billy said again, giving Steve a look. "You know why." After all, Billy had been the opposite of subtle about it. Steve just stared at him, eyes going impossibly wider as Billy deliberately took off his seatbelt and moved into Steve's space. "But fine, if you need me to spell it out, I'm definitely not in this car with you right now because I don't have any other options."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's. Steve responded immediately and enthusiastically, and something that had still been wound tight in Billy's chest eased. By the time they broke apart to breathe, Billy was practically in Steve's lap, both of his hands up under Steve's shirt. Steve had one hand at Billy's lower back and the other buried in his curls. They sat panting a little, their foreheads pressed together. Billy smiled wickedly.

"I would just like to point out that you made a lot of promises about what was going to happen if I didn't die, Harrington, and I held up my end of the bargain." Steve's answering smile was bright and just a little cocky.

"I'm looking forward to keeping every single one of those promises, Hargrove. We can start as soon as we get where we're going." Billy frowned at him.

"I survived being impaled by a giant flesh monster because you promised me--"

"My giant flesh monster?" Steve cut in, cracking up halfway through. Billy snorted, but did not further dignify that with a response.

"As I was saying," he said instead, "I am alive today because you have a really nice dick and a filthy mouth, and I have been waiting on both of them for months, and I am definitely not waiting three more hours to get started." He punctuated this declaration by reaching for the top button of Steve's pants. He had it and the next two buttons open before Steve reached out to stop him.

"Billy," he hissed, "we are parked on the side of the highway! We are not doing this here. Literally anyone could look over at any time and get a fantastic view of exactly what we're doing." Steve had a point, but Billy didn't have to like it.

He sighed and kissed Steve one more time, hard, before he reluctantly clambered back over to the passenger seat.

"Fine," he said. "We can compromise." He leaned over and grabbed Steve's wrist to look at his watch. Then he smiled at Steve, sharp and a little predatory. "I'm going to start sucking your dick in twenty minutes, if not before. We're still in fucking Indiana, so that should give you plenty of time to find some deserted back road somewhere." Steve was already starting the car.

He grinned over at Billy as he pulled back into traffic and made his way to the next exit.

"So you're going to start at the top and work your way through them, huh?"

"Maybe. We'll just have to see," Billy said. He paused. "I gotta say, pretty boy, I'm legitimately fuckin' impressed. I didn't know you had it in you." Steve smirked at him.

“Hey, give me some credit. I knew you well enough to know that if I had mentioned feelings, or called it making love, you would have immediately chosen the sweet embrace of death.” Billy laughed along with Steve because Steve was right: at one point, Billy absolutely would have done that.

Not anymore, though. Not if it was Steve. But he wasn't about to just blurt that out, so. He could still have one secret. For now, anyway.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my writing #I don't know man #I wrote this at three am a couple weeks ago #I'm done staring at it so now you get to look at it #I'm sorry #or you're welcome!#one of those

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squidproquoclarice · 3 years

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A/N: Actually Day 4! I found out yesterday that I had accidentally erased this prompt, so for-real days 5-7 (Rope Burn, Six Shooter, and Ride the Bull) were all one day early. But I got it corrected in the right week at least, and now I’m back on track. Yeehawgust Day 7 (4): Chaps June 1896

Galveston, Texas

Arthur stared at Josiah as though had suddenly sprouted a second head. “No. You got to be kidding me, Trelawny.”

Josiah smiled back at him. “Not a bit, dear boy.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

He knew full well Arthur had heard, and that keen mind he took pains to deny comprehended full well precisely what had been said, but he went along with the charade. It always did well to play the expected part. “To play the valet and bodyguard to the illustrious Hubert Tottingham-DeBois,” he assumed the posh, plummy accent of an English nobleman, ”third son of the Viscount of Rothdean.” He winked at Arthur. “In other words, a wastrel and a no-account bored younger son sent to America out of the sight of Mummy and Daddy’s peers to make a man of himself, or more likely, to spend a significant amount of money. A fellow looking for some dear chaps, fine chums, you know, to invest in this very promising diamond mine his family owns in India, the likes of which have produced some of the proud crown jewels to grace our illustrious Queen Victoria…” Arthur waved a hand as if shooing away a pesky fly. “You don’t got to give me the whole patter,” he said dryly. “I get the flavor of it.” Ah, spoilsport. He had just been getting into the best of it. Though he couldn’t help but smile at Arthur’s grumbling, given of course it was only a veneer. If anyone knew a mask, it was Josiah Trelawny. “And Galveston is positively rolling in money,” Josiah pointed out. “As you’ve seen.” The sheer amount of wealth in this Gulf port was frankly astonishing.“ Seen it,” Arthur acknowledged. “Fools ready for the fleecing, of course. Wouldn’t you do better with Hosea? He can spin the patter right back, and you know it.” “No, I need a certain presence of a chosen man to sell the role. A bodyguard and valet lets people know I’m quite serious. And of course you look the part.” A wealthy man might well hire a tough-looking sort to stand there with just the right expression to make it clear, and a wealthy family might well hire one for their wayward idiot son to be sure he did his foolishness within safe confines. And of course to report on him if need be, as a good shepherd ought. “That’s me. The most frightening fella you know. So I get to just stand there and look alert and possibly menacing and keep you from doing anything too stupid, huh? Guess I can handle that.” Josiah clapped him on the shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief. No man he’d trust watching his back more than Arthur Morgan, though he wouldn’t freely admit it. That might well embarrass them both. “Excellent.” They’d have to have Arthur change out of that well-worn jacket of his, of course, but he’d seen the man had some fine clothing and cleaned up splendidly. For all that, like most everything else, he pretended to do so only reluctantly. Josiah wasn’t fooled. Arthur want one of those men who went only with somber black and white and grey. There was that part of him that enjoyed colors, patterns, and the delight of them. Besides, nobody who grew to manhood living beside the stylishness of Hosea Matthews and Dutch van der Linde could help but appreciate the effect of a little fashionable flair in a man’s wardrobe upon people. The corner of Arthur’s mouth turned up in a wry smirk, and he pushed back his chair, getting to his feet. “Then come on, little lordling, we got plans to make. And gullible chaps to find.”

#yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2021 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #josiah trelawny #writing #fic from the parking lot

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raeynbowboi · 4 years

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Bob’s Burgers 10th Anniversary Retrospective

After ten years, Bob, Linda, and the Kids are just as delightfully wacky and endearing as they ever were, and show no signs of slowing down. So I wanted to put together an ultra mega review of the series. I’ll give an opinion on main and recurring characters, as with a cast this big, there’s been a lot of endearing characters to grace the show over the years. However, I will only be counting characters that have appeared more than once. After ten years, there’s been some real gems, and some real misfires. So, I’ll be counting down my top 10 best episodes, and the bottom 10 worst episodes. I’ll also go through as a Highlight Reel, by picking a best and worst episode of each season, as well as crowning the Best Season with the most good episodes.

Bob Belcher

Honestly, Bob was a very easy character to mess up. He’s the straight man to his wacky family’s antics. But the show does a really great job making Bob simple and lowkey without making him boring or a stick in the mud. He may be resistant to weird things, but he puts up with it anyway to make his family happy. While he’s the serious straight man, they don’t fail to give Bob his own eccentricities and quirks that make him relatable and funny in his own way. Whether he’s making things talk, getting weirdly excited about Thanksgiving, or his awkward way of speaking, Bob is genuinely a good and relatable character. It’s also nice to see that Bob is a great husband and a loving father. He and Linda argue from time to time, but they’re not trapped in a loveless marriage for the kid’s sake like most shows. And even shows where that’s not a selling point like American Dad, Bob shows more remorse for things like forgetting their anniversary than Stan does for Francine. Bob is supportive, loving, and forgiving. Which is just amazing to watch. The times when his kids really need him, he’s there for them, and he helps them through their problems. While Bob might fight with and get mad with or annoyed by his family, Bob never treats them like people he’s stuck with. Frankly, Bob blows most animated TV dads out of the water. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Stan or Francine give quiet supportive talks to Steve or Hayley ever in American Dad. Peter used to at least try to be a decent father, but now is a negligent toddler. Likewise, Homer used to be a great father who cared about his kids, but later seasons have really stepped away from the family angle the Simpsons used to have. In a sea of adult animated families that are toxic and destructive, Bob’s genuine love for his family came as a breath of fresh air.

Linda Belcher

Linda is by far the best Adult Animation TV mom there is. For one thing, she’s funnier than Francine, Lois, and Marge combined. But more importantly, she’s not the butt of the joke when it happens. I can only really remember laughing at Francine when they make dumb blonde jokes with her, but Linda’s jokes come from her character. She could have easily been the gender inverted Homer or Peter, but the writers are careful to make her gullible, trusting, and goofy without making her a moron. When the kids do something wrong, Linda busts out the tough mom act and you genuinely believe that the kids are in trouble. She’s not faking it. She’s not off in her own little world. She’s a bit of a goofy dreamer, but she’s able to be the tough disciplinarian when she needs to be. Her relationship with Bob is also better than most adult animation wives. She’s more independent than the other housewives, and even though her job is working with her husband, it never feels like it robs Linda of her own power, autonomy, and freedom. But the best thing about Linda is that I think most people can agree, she has an extremely strong and charming personality that endears us to her.

Tina Belcher

I really wish I could say I liked Tina more. She’s a creative romantic, just like me. I should love her. But her monotone deliveries and awkwardness isn’t as endearing as Bob’s. I like her better in episodes like Teen-A Witch and Broadcast Wagstaff School News where she has a bit stronger of a personality. But unfortunately, Tina is my least favorite member of the Belcher family, which isn’t to say that I hate her, she just doesn’t shine as bright as the rest of her family. She’s just not very funny or interesting on her own. But on the plus side, at least I don’t find Tina to be annoying or terrible except in the rare bad episode.

Gene Belcher

Gene is the only member of the family that can regularly get my dad to laugh, and with good reason. If he wasn’t such a well of nonsequitor punchlines, Gene would probably be the worst member of the family, but boy howdy do those random jokes pick up the slack. Gene is genuinely hilarious, even if I’d only rank him above Tina in terms of favoritism. However, I find that most Gene-centric episodes to be lackluster or below average. I think Gene’s best episode is probably Y Tu Ga-Ga Tambien, but of the best episodes, none really come to mind that specifically star Gene. Gene is really better suited for a supporting role, and his times as the star showcase why comic reliefs aren’t the main character. They’re support characters for a reason. That’s not to say Gene-centric episodes are terrible. They just tend to range from about average to bad. Though Y Tu Ga-Ga Tambien is a pretty good one.

Louise Belcher

Bob and Linda saved the best for last because Louise is the breakout star of the show. Funny, interesting, and the focus of many of the better episodes, Louise stands proudly on the first place podium with Linda in 2nd and Bob taking 3rd place. I think Louise’s strengths are especially due to her standoffish and naughty personality, which has lent itself to a lot of good character growth episodes. Season 10 Louise seems a lot more mature than Season 1 Louise. I think Louise works because while she does often have clever or sneaky solutions to problems, they don’t forget that she’s 9, so unlike Stewie, her age does present hurdles and barriers to her schemes and plans.

The Best and Worst of Bob’s Burgers

#10 WORST: Pro-Tiki/Con-Tiki (S6e15)

Why couldn’t Warren Fitzgerald just put that $100,000 into advertisements or to help Bob buy better equipment for his restaurant? My biggest issue with this episode isn’t the episode itself, it’s that the ending makes no sense. Warren wants to help Bob because he has a form of riches Warren lacks, and Bob doesn’t want a corporate sponsor to make changes to his brand. But why can’t Warren just give Bob the money to make choices he wants to make? They could stay as business partners, but Bob doesn’t have to sacrifice his personal vision for the restaurant. It’s just really frustrating when they’re both being too stupid and stubborn to see the obvious solution in front of their faces.

#10 BEST: Teen-a Witch (S7e03)

One of Tina’s best episodes, as someone who had a goth phase myself and dabbled a tiny amount in ‘witchcraft’, this episode brings back memories of high school and the desire to make the world what I wanted it to be. But on top of that, Tina with a backbone is when she really shines as a character, mostly because it means her humor isn’t being derived from her being awkward.

#9 WORST: Live and Let Fly (S9e05)

Mr. Frond embarrasses the kids, and they team up with Up-Skirt Kurt to get revenge against his sister and Mr. Frond. I’m not a fan of Kurt, so I already don’t care much about his feud with his sister, but I also just find the episode kind of boring. I don’t care about Kurt, I don’t care about his feud, and the kids call off their revenge, so that ends up not mattering either. Even Bob and Linda’s side plot is only middle-of-the-road quality for Bob’s Burgers.

#9 BEST: Wharf Horse/World Wharf II (S4e21-22)

The very first two-part episode Bob’s Burgers ever had, the season 4 finale is a great watching experience. It has some fun songs, funny character exchanges, suspenseful drama, and some heartfelt moments. It feels like a short movie, and that’s a good thing for a two-part episode to do. Even Fanny and Felix are interesting villains. But even after everything Felix did, I don’t find myself loathing him in later episodes, and that’s a hard thing to accomplish.

#8 WORST: Tina-Rannosaurus Wrecks (S3e07)

This is the only bad Tina episode where the problem isn’t Tina herself. My biggest issue with this episode is more just the subject matter. Bob lies for insurance reasons about who was driving his car, and the entire episode is just Bob and Tina digging a deeper and deeper hole for themselves. The solution to the issue is clever enough to redeem the episode somewhat, but the majority of the watching experience is just kind of an awkward dance of watching these two getting tangled up in a web of lies.

#8 BEST: The Taking of Funtime One Two Three (S9e02)

Bar none, this is the single best ‘Heist’ episode of Bob’s Burgers, and it’s kind of crazy that Bob’s Burgers has actually built a repertoire to where I can make a list of ‘heist’ episodes as an archetype. This one feels the most like an actual heist movie, and the ending is legitimately clever and unexpected. But even more than that, if you’re paying attention, you can see the twist before the characters even reveal it. That is the kind of tight writing that makes the list for best episodes.

#7 WORST: A Fish Called Tina (S10e12)

Tina spends an episode trying way too hard to make someone like her, to the point that she almost humiliates a 4th grader in public just so she can live out some fantasy. It’s really uncomfortable and sickening to watch Tina do this. This will be a recurring issue with Tina’s low-point episodes. There’s nothing fun about watching a character make a complete idiot out of themselves by coming on too strong. It even makes me groan when Kaylie shows up in another Season 10 episode because I don’t want to have to think about this awful episode.

#7 BEST: Stand By Gene (S6e12)

Something about this episode really just brings back memories of my childhood. Memories of walking through the outdoors, just exploring and wanting to find things. The characters are funny, and Bob and Linda’s relationship is put to the test. Plus, I loved that for the entire episode, you don’t know how it’ll end. It really makes this a personal favorite and one of the episodes I knew had to make it on my list.

#6 WORST: The Grand Mama-Pest Hotel (S7e13)

Linda ruins things for Tina by being an overbearing annoyance. Are you noticing a trend with Bob’s Burgers’ worst episodes? I don’t like it when good characters make complete jackasses out of themselves in the name of ‘humor’. It’s not funny. It’s annoying and makes me dislike them. Thankfully, the worst of it is only in the latter half of the 2nd act and the entire third act, but Linda’s behavior just makes me cringe and ask why they had to do Linda dirty like this? It just puts me even more squarely on the side that Tina is entirely in the right and I don’t want to deal with Lind either.

#6 BEST: Broadcast Wagstaff School News (S3e12)

From Tina at her lowest point to Tina at her best, Broadcast Wagstaff School News is my favorite episode of the first 5 seasons. Tina’s funny and engaging, Gene is absolutely shining as Little Bob, and while Louise and Linda play supporting roles in this episode, they’re still funny as well. Plus, the mystery is a good one, and this episode is even referenced in later seasons.

#5 WORST: Mazel-Tina (S4e13)

Tina ruins Tammy’s birthday and steals her party. This is Tina at rock bottom. Tina is so despicable, cruel, and selfish in this episode that it reminds me that behind that creative awkward girl is a selfish brat who doesn’t care if she hurts other people if she can live out her fantasies. If other episodes didn’t rescue Tina from being so unlikable, I probably would hate Tina as a character entirely for her behavior in this episode.

#5 BEST: The Silence of the Louise (S8e02)

Movie parodies are some of the best, and The Silence of the Louise is the queen of all the movie parodies. When Mr. Frond’s therapy dolls are mutilated, and the school staff calls off the waterpark trip until the culprit is caught, Louise teams up with psycho Millie to figure out whodunnit. This is also one of the first time Millie wasn’t strictly an antagonist, and she genuinely felt like someone who could be Louise’s friend someday.

#4 WORST: Boywatch (S8e16)

Tina ruins things for other people by coming on too strong. The only reason this is ranked higher than Mozel-Tina is because in that episode, she just wanted to be at the party, and just kind of ended up as the star of the party and let it go to her head, whereas here, she is actively ruining things for other people in pursuit of her own delusions and fantasies. Tina has no desire to be a junior lifeguard, but cute boys causes her to behave like a troublemaker. She’s entirely out of character, and her teammates’ hate for her behavior is something I agree with. I don’t want to hate the main characters, so why does this show keep pushing to make Tina a nuisance who ruins experiences for other people?

#4 BEST: The Quirkducers (S7e06)

If the Silence of the Louise is the queen of film parodies, then The Quirkducers is the king. Not only is it a clever parody of The Producers, but it also has some damn good musical numbers, especially the edited end credit version. But it’s Tina’s song at the end that stands as one of my favorites of all Bob’s Burgers’ songs.

#3 WORST: Bed & Breakfast (S1e07)

If a Fish Called Tina is bad, then Bed & Breakfast is flaming garbage. Linda turns their apartment into a Bed and Breakfast, and Linda goes berserk when the guests don’t play into her expectations. This episode verges from below average to detestable as Linda goes insane and locks people in their rooms, and Louise drives a grown man to attack workers by preying on his fear.

#3 BEST: The Hauntening (S6e03)

This is hands-down the best Halloween episode that Bob’s Burgers ever made. This show turns out some amazing holiday episodes, and this is one of the best the Belchers have to offer. I won’t dare give away anything about this episode. If you’ve seen it, you know why it’s top of the heap, and if you haven’t, then all I can say is what are you waiting for? Delayed gratification has to pay off eventually.

#2 WORST: Every Which Way But Goose (S9e14)

Tina falls in love with a goose. Who smoked crack before writing this episode, and who huffed enough paint thinner to approve this episode for production? This is the absolute dumbest concept for an episode I have ever come across. Who thought this was a good idea? I can’t even pinpoint the flaws because this entire episode is just so flawed. At least Mazel-Tina and Boywatch enrage me. This just baffles me.

#2 BEST: A Few Gurt Men (S7e11)

When Mr. Ambrose accuses Mr. Frond of stealing his yogurt from the faculty lounge, the case is brought before student court, and Louise is tasked with acting as Defense Council for Mr. Frond. One thing Bob’s Burgers does well is mysteries, and this is a good one as Louise has to figure out a way to prove Frond’s innocence. This is just an absolute personal favorite. Every character is just on point, and I get excited when the episode starts to que up.

#1 WORST: Moody Foodie (S2e07)

Did you ever want to watch the Belchers commit a felony? Then boy howdy do I have an episode for you! A picky food critic responsible for shutting down restaurants comes to Bob’s Burgers. Bob messes up the order, and a visit to the critic’s house to get him to try his burger again leads to a hostage situation with the critic tied to a chair and gagged in his own home. Words cannot describe the depth to which I hate this episode. The entire episode feels dirty and vile. I feel the need to scrub my skin raw after sitting through this episode. The instant I realize that it’s come on, I skip the the next one. I have literally only sat through this episode once. This episode disgusts me. This episode has the main character, abduct somebody in their own home. Then they take a second hostage when a mailman delivers the guy’s package. Luckily, Bob’s Burgers has a lot of good episodes to make up for this one bad egg, but this episode enrages me to the point that if the family wasn’t so charming and endearing most of the time, I might have stopped watching based just on this one episode.

#1 BEST: The Bleakening: Part 1 & 2 (S8e06-07)

The first time I saw these episodes, they played back to back without any credits in between them, and I thought it was one episode, and I didn’t even realize it was the length of two episodes. Between the amazing songs, the brain bending twists, the creative creature, the dark elements that contrast the bright lights of the holidays, and the uplifting ending, this pair of episodes stands paramount as the single greatest viewing experience that Bob’s Burgers has to offer.

Favorite Friend of the Kids: Regular-Sized Rudy

First appearing in Carpe Museum, Rudy came back in The Kids Rob a Train, where he has remained a friend of the kids since. Rudy was the first to join the kids if you don’t count Andy and Ollie who seem to dip in and back out as to whether they’re included in the friend group. Rudy was thus the first to be made a main member of the kids’ friend group.

Favorite Schoolyard Seven: Jocelyn

The Schoolyard Seven is the friend group of the three Belchers, Jimmy Jr., Zeke, Tammy, and Jocelyn. Not counting the Belchers, it was a close call between Zeke and Jocelyn. Tammy and Jimmy Jr. tend to be typecast as serving one niche thing, but Zeke and Jocelyn are often the comedic gold. However, while Zeke is more interesting of the two, I just enjoy Jocelyn too much to not give her the win. Even if Jocelyn’s humor is just a walking dumb blonde trope, like Gene, Jocelyn has a knack for funny one-liners. If the groups has another name, I’m not privy to it.

Favorite Friend of the Family: Micky

Though he’s less connected to the family now, Micky has been a friend to the Belchers since Bob Day Afternoon, and returning in Bob Fires the Kids. Since his introduction, Micky has gotten a job at Wonder Wharf, where he has remained since.

Favorite Recurring Villain: Logan Bush

First appearing in Ears-y Rider, Logan has been a fun and interesting frenemy for Louise to match wits with. In a show where most other villains are the same age as the main characters (Millie, Tammy, Chloe, Jimmy Pesto, Hugo) Logan stands out as a legitimate bully. Yet, even he was willing to work with Louise in Mother-Daughter Laser Razor, showing that there is wiggle room for the two of them to even join forces and spread havoc together.

Favorite Tina Love Interest: Duncan

Earnest if not a little awkward, Duncan seems like a sweet boy for Tina to possibly end up with. Sasha Whiteman is another character I could easily see being a good boyfriend to Tina because his quick wit and social graces make him a great foil to Tina, and he excels where Tina falls short. Zeke has a good chance to be a good boyfriend, but Tina still spits his name when she greets him, so I doubt she’d take interest in him unless something happens to change their dynamic. I liked Josh, but now that he’s said he doesn’t like her anymore and she agreed that she feels the same, I doubt we’re going to see them date further in the future.

Favorite Side Character: Nat Kinkle the Limo Driver

First appearing in Season 8 episode 8 V for Valentine-detta, I must not be the only fan of Nat’s because she made two appearances in the 10th season, in episode 1 The Ring (But Not Scary) and episode 17 Just the Trip. Currently with only 3 appearances, she’s still only a side character, but I get the feeling that like with Rudy, Courtney, Darrel and Alex before her, Nat will keep becoming a more frequent character. She just has a great vibe, and her charisma is intoxicating. She meshes great with the family, making her an absolute delight to watch.

Favorite Bit Character: Marshmallow

Although she’s appeared in multiple episodes since her introduction in Sheesh, Cab Bob, Marshmallow has never gotten much more than a couple lines, with her biggest role being in The Bleakening where she had more to say. She was also the first major LGBT+ recurring character on the show, which also made her a joy to see, whenever she returned to Bob’s Burgers.

Favorite Headcanon: Gene is Genderfluid

Gene’s jokes have been centered on his gender or sexuality since the first season finale. A joke once in a while is one thing, but ten years of the same sorts of jokes tells the sharp viewer that there’s more to it than just a running gag. With how many jokes have Gene talk about having boobs, synching his cycle, or calling himself Tina and Louise’s sister or Bob and Linda’s daughter, it’s my opinion that Gene is genderfluid, or possibly even transgender. The only reason I say genderfluid over a transgirl is because he still also addresses himself as a boy or a man as much as he does girl jokes.

Best Song: Twinkly Lights (Ms. XXX-Mas)

Not only does Toddrick Hall absolutely kill this performance, but I also love the meaning of the song about POC inclusivity and pride in the LGBT+ community. As the final song in The Bleakening, it’s one hell of a closing number, and I can’t help but dance in my seat whenever it plays. I’ve even listened to it independent from watching the show, and honor I don’t bestow on every song.

Best Episode Archetypes:

The Best Heist: The Taking of Funtime One Two Three

The Belcher kids have stolen a number of things. Chocolate, a bounce house, but the absolute creme de la creme of their heists is the procuring of the Dunebuggy from Family Funtime. When Family Funtime unplugs the macchines whenver the kids get too many tickets from them, the kids decide to pull off the heist of a century to make off with the biggest prize of the arcade: the dune buggy.

The Kids Tell An Anthology: Moms, Lies, and Videotapes

From the Gayle Tales to The Handyman Can, the kids have told a number of anthology stories, but the most impressive of the bunch is their stories of the mother’s day plays into three interesting stories. Though true to form, Gene’s is the weakest of the three, as his usually are. I don’t recall any time when his anthology was the best of the kids’, but then, Gene is not the most creative of the three children. His best story is probably in The Frond Files where his story’s world is colorful and fun to observe.

Best Musical Episode: The Bleakening

Not only do these episodes have a lot of musical numbers, but there is not a single one that doesn’t hit a home run. But more importantly, the entire episode is a musical, with each number helping to tie and bridge together the narrative, which is the entire purpose of musical numbers in a proper musical, which makes this the single best musical episode mainly because it’s the only episode that’s a true blue musical.

Best Holiday Episode: The Hauntening

With The Bleakening already taking the top spot for musical episodes, that leaves the Miss Congeniality of the holiday episodes to take the crown. I didn’t spoil anything about this episode above, and I won’t say a thing about it now. This episode is solid gold.

Best Film Parody: The Quirkducers

Not only is this episode clever in the way it uses its source material, but the family all have moments to shine despite the stars being Louise and Gene. The show also makes good use of the Schoolhouse Seven (the main group of the Belcher Kids, Jimmy and Zeke, and Tammy and Jocelyn), and each of them brings something great to the episode. It undoubtedly earned its place in the top 10, and will likely hold its place for years to come.

#bobs burgers #Bob's Burgers #belchers #the belchers #bob belcher #Linda Belcher #gene belcher #tina belcher #louise belcher #seymores bay

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toothyleech · 3 years

Text

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐠 + 𝐁𝐚𝐚𝐥 | 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 + 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐮

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟓𝟎𝟐

»»———————— ♔　———————-««

Before Baal, Ningguang felt as if her life had been boring. Although she was painted as the enemy, the one everyone hated, she too had feelings just as everyone else did. On top of that, she taught a college criminal justice class, so of course her life was meaningless. Dedicating her life to teaching stupid college kids was not something Ningguang had planned on doing with her life. She intended on being a millionaire, spending her days deciding who lived and who died in the money world. She wanted to be the one to count her money every single day to make sure that there wasn’t a single cent missing. While others might call her a gold digger, or selfish, Ningguang was far from greedy though. If she was greedy, she wouldn’t be teaching a class full of cocky brats trying to become lawyers. If she was greedy, then she wouldn’t put up with the absolute bullshit that some of these kids spouted. Potential lawyers always thought they were amazing, hence why Ningguang went extra hard on them in class.

There was one person she couldn’t stand though. One person in this god forsaken place that she felt somewhat understood her. And that person was Baal, although she heard rumors of her students calling her the so-called “Raiden Shogun”, which amused Ningguang to no end. The Raiden Shogun taught Humanities, which was simple enough in theory, but considering who taught it—the class was almost as hard as Ningguang’s herself. The two boasted the reputation as having the hardest classes on campus, and although they shared that in common, they hadn’t met until relatively recently.

It was a cold winter's day when the two had first ran into each other. Ningguang was bundled up in her outerwear, sipping on a warm hot cocoa since she didn’t fancy coffee. She had more of a sweet palate surprisingly, given who she was. Nevertheless, she was walking through the campus, watching the snow fall in clumps off of the trees and hit the ground. Ningguang, in fact, was so distracted by this that she hadn’t been watching where she was going, and bumped into a certain woman who had only heard rumors of.

The Raiden Shogun was a tall woman, almost taller than Ningguang herself. And when she bumped into her, the glare Ningguang received was almost…electric. There was an air of power around Baal, an air of power that nobody dare defy lest they wish to receive punishment. Ningguang found herself almost…admiring that sort of power that Baal gave off. Despite the initial shock of running into her, Ningguang‘s eyelids fell into a glower once she realized the challenging look that Baal was giving her. She wouldn’t back down easily, not even if Baal was a real Shogun.

“Watch where you’re going,” Baal said icily. She was donned in her own warm outerwear, her hair pulled into a thick braid that tumbled down her back in a lovely manner. In all honesty, Ningguang could admit that Baal was beautiful. Even if she was being a bitch right now. “Next time, maybe look in front of you instead of walking aimlessly.”

Ningguang was taken aback. Nobody had ever spoken to her like this, frankly. She had always been treated with the utmost respect before this meeting, and it was a little shocking to be treated like some sort of peasant in the eyes of Baal. “Do you know who you’re talking to miss…shogun.” Her lips quirked up into a faint smile upon watching Baal’s eye twitch vaguely at the nickname. “Or do you act like this with all of your fellow staff members?” She cocked her head to the side slightly, putting a finger on her chin. “I wonder…how long would it take for you to get fired if you treated everyone like this?”

Baal looked annoyed, shifting idly as she glared at Ningguang sharply. “I suppose that’s none of your concern, given that I speak to everyone in the way I wish. Nobody challenges my authority, not even prissy women like you who think they’re the boss.” The shogun took a step forward, a small sneer on her face as she looked down at Ningguang, who merely looked up at her with a somewhat bored expression. She had dealt with far worse than some teacher who thought she was the best thing to have ever existed. Ningguang wasn’t afraid of Baal—not in the way everyone else seemed to cower in her presence.

“Oh, yes, I do suppose you have free reign to speak to people in whatever way you wish,” Ningguang agreed with her, although it was somewhat backhanded. “But that doesn’t account for the fact that you, just like I, have superiors. As much as you wish you were in charge, you’re not.” Ningguang puckered her lips, reveling in the way Baal’s face changed from mildly annoyed to furious.

“You’re going to regret the words you have spoken,” Baal rumbled, taking a few steps away from Ningguang and smoothing out her coat. Snow had accumulated on both of their coats since they had been standing still, and the chill from the outside was beginning to set in. Whether the chill was from the weather or from Baal’s glare, however…that Ningguang was unsure of.

“Is that a threat?” Ningguang challenged in response to her words, taking an idle sip of her drink.

Baal turned away, not bothering to answer. Her heels made crisp clicks against the pavement as she walked away, making imprints in the snow as well.

And as Baal walked away, Ningguang had the satisfied feeling in her chest that she had won, along with a strange emotion she couldn’t even begin to identify.

From then on, every time they had met had been followed by some sort of argument. A power struggle, per se, ensued every time they had met, which seemed to become more and more frequent as the days passed. Ningguang was unsure as to why Baal kept visiting her classroom with her overly defensive TA Sara, but she could safely say that the distraction was a welcome one. Today, however, Baal was visiting unaccompanied.

Ningguang could tell that Baal was about to visit when the air shifted. It was almost crackling with electricity as she entered the classroom, which was now empty. Her class had long since been over, and her next one wasn’t for a while. In fact, Baal had perfect timing. Even when she entered the room, she looked impeccable as ever, dressed to the nines in her professional outfit that made her look powerful in a scary yet sexy way.

“Good evening, your highness,” Ningguang greeted her in a cool, sarcastic manner. Her tone was condescending and somewhat rude, although still airy enough to come off as faux polite. “Is there something you needed?” Despite Ningguang’s hatred for Baal’s attitude, she still enjoyed her presence somewhat. Not that she’d ever admit that to the woman, of course, but the sentiment was still there.

“Nothing that you can offer,” Baal huffed, making her way closer to Ningguang’s desk and folding her arms across her chest. “What have you been up to?” She asked begrudgingly, a small flush high on her cheeks despite her hostile words.

Ningguang raised an eyebrow, sipping on her drink of choice while she stared up at Baal, purposefully not answering to make her squirm. “Why do you care?” She finally asked, cold and precise as always. When she put down her drink and went back to her paperwork, she could see Baal’s annoyed expression in her peripheral vision. “I thought the Shogun didn’t entertain peasants’ activities.”

Baal’s expression scrunched up into something that was somewhat bewildered, although it smoothed out a second later. “You know that’s not what I mean.” She sounded annoyed, her eyebrow twitching for a second before she smoothed off her outfit, brushing off any nonexistent dust. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Ningguang stood up from her desk gracefully, approaching Baal with a neutral expression before she cupped her cheeks in a surprisingly gentle manner. Baal stiffened for a second before she seemed to melt into the touch begrudgingly, still looking bothered despite it all. It was then that Ningguang pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, satisfied by the way that the other woman looked shocked for a moment before her eyes fluttered shut.

“Yes, we’re still on for tonight if that was what you were wondering.” Ningguang said once she had pulled away from the kiss, brushing off her own clothes before she went to sit back down at her desk. The two had planned a date for tonight, but it seemed as if Baal was having a bit of anxiety about it. It was almost endearing.

Ningguang’s lips quirked up into a faint smile as she turned back to the copious amounts of paperwork that she needed to get up, not even bothering to look up at Baal as she uttered her next words:

“You’re dismissed.”

#genshin rarepair #genshin drabbles #genshin impact #Ninggbaal #Ningguang/Baal #🦷—fanfic

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onyourzeus · 4 years

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raining | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: raining pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: fluff, fictional universe words: 4.4k

was listening to this playlist while writing. author’s note: overwhelmingly cliche, like kdrama levels of it. be forewarned. i am in my youngk feelings tonight, folks. i just wanted to write something sickeningly cute & i think i achieved it lol. do enjoy, regardless.

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

The moment you step outside the door, you immediately regret it. You were never one to love the cold, you actually welcome it— but when signs of heavy rain are bound to happen within the hour or so it’s not advisable for anyone to enjoy a walk outside.

You pull on the ends of your sweaters even more, keeping the tips of your fingers enclosed in the warmth of the fabric. A slight yet wintry breeze whispers against your ear and you shiver involuntarily. It was a win-win situation to cover your head with the hoodie as your hair had seen better days before, and it keeps you extra protected from the cold.

The convenience store was a mere ten to fifteen walk from your street, it shouldn’t be a big deal. So here you are, shuddering in house clothes, trudging your way to the nearest mart to snag yourself a cup of noodles or two, and maybe buy a drink to keep you toasty on the way back.

Hands tucked in between your sides, you briskly make your way to your destination. At eight in the evening on a weeknight, there seems to be a couple of people enjoying a chilly stroll outside.

Well, the only difference is that they’re all dressed for the occasion: thick coats, thicker scarves, and an overwhelming sense of excitement for this weather.

“They better go home soon before it starts to rain,” you mumble under your breath, costing a fog to escape in front of you. It looks nice, though, that they have one or another person accompanying them tonight. Some with hands held tight and others just comfortably walking side by side.

The sudden chattering of your teeth makes you question your bitter sentiment. You decide not to think about it any further as you approach the blinding lights of the convenience store.

Pushing the door open with some elbow grease (they really need to replace that), you’re welcomed with a whiff of plastic packaged items, coffee brewing on the side, and the silent hum of cash registers at the front.

You’re starting to feel the heat of the inside replace your slight shivering, but you ought to keep the hood on and make the trip as fast as possible.

Walking towards the ramen aisle, your eyes widen at the sheer possibilities of microwavable meals you can have tonight: curry-flavored, spicy seafood, extra hot with three Xs, it’s shameful that you find these all so appealing.

Before your mouth waters embarrassingly, you grab three cups of your choice and cradle them in one hand securely. Moving over to the chilled section, you check the price of a small container of kimchi to see if you’re lucky enough to spice up your dinner for tonight.

Unfortunately, you don’t think it fits your budget, recalling that you just grabbed a couple of coins from the counter before leaving the apartment.

Somehow, while being preoccupied by the fact that you can’t have any kimchi, your head collides against someone’s back. In the most awkward encounter that can happen, cups of noodles drop on the floor. Your hoodie falls off your head, revealing the hair you’re trying to keep away from the public.

With heated cheeks, you apologize profusely to this person’s back, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking!” You don’t even wait for them to turn around as you quickly bend down and grab your items.

He picks them up before you do.

You get a glimpse of him in the seconds he’s bent down; his hair parted in the middle with a little curl to them, roots are dark brown but everything else of a faded grey, his thick brown coat nicely shaping his shoulders, and as he slowly stand upright you have a clear view of a black turtleneck that hugs his neck perfectly, and his face—

“No worries, it happens,” he tells you casually, holding onto your dropped items. His eyes are slanted and yet you see gentleness in them. As he gives you a small smile, you notice his high cheekbones protruding from such graceful features.

The sudden warmth emanating from your thrift-store find sweater makes your face feel like it’s about to erupt from embarrassment. You scramble over to grab your cup of noodles from his grasp, grazing the skin on his hands. Even that sensation felt so soft for such a short period of interaction.

You do need to go out and see people more.

“T-thanks,” you manage to blurt out. From all the apparent staring you’ve done in the past minute or so, you find your eyes glued on the floor intensely.

“Excuse me…” you trail off almost inaudibly, but he gives you space in the aisle you’ve collided so you can stand in line for the register.

It felt like an eternity being face to face with him as people have formed a queue to pay already, but you will yourself not to look back. It was a… lucky accident?

If you can call it that— you still look like you haven’t unearthed yourself from your hermit cave for months. And him— well, to put it frankly, he just looked unreal to be sauntering his way at a local convenience store.

You shake your head, quickly pull up your hoodie once again and tighten the straps a little bit more forcefully this time.

It’s hard to hide the shame, but at least your hair will be out of sight again.

Impatiently, you tap your foot with the sound of the clock on the wall. Some problem of some kind with the scanner up front was causing the line to lag, and not to say so first-world problem-haver, but the less time you spend in here, the more time you can scream into your pillow back home.

A stretch of the neck, you look up, down, and side to side. On your left, your eyes catch something too familiar.

Something in the universe is clearly toying with you because as soon as you crane your head just a tad bit further, you find the same gorgeous man standing behind you. He’s looking somewhere else, eyes pointed in the distance and his lips pursed together in thought.

Why. Is He. So. Cute. Just standing there like that?

“Hi,” you see his lips move, voice low but friendly. “Your ramen alright there?”

“Me?” you squeak out. His eyes train themselves on you, and for a second he looks just as confused. But he comes back with a short laugh, and you feel like shrinking into dust.

But it doesn’t sound like he’s laughing at you, it wasn’t mean or said with a grimace at all.

He nods his head confirming your silly question and adds, “Yes, the ones you’re holding onto for dear life in there.”

“These?” you ask again, like a complete dysfunctional human machine. “Oh, um— yeah. They’re fine. Hahaha,” you reply and you sound nervous.

You shouldn’t be, he’s asking a legitimate question and you’re making it out to be like an interrogation! Snap out of it, reprimanding yourself in the head. This is not how you talk to people at all.

“Good.” He continues smiling at you, but his eyes shift elsewhere. Well, that’s probably your cue to stop this uncomfortable situation for yourself, and for his good as well.

But he’s still talking, and addressing you it seems.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hi, I can take your stuff right here, miss.”

“Yes, please! Thanks,” you hurry off to the front, out of breath and out of words left to speak.

There was no point to keep looking back, you’ve done your part acting the way you did. Maybe you should have just waited until tomorrow to get groceries, you would have benefitted from sleeping in earlier than showcasing how clumsy you can be to a complete stranger. (Not to mention someone your type.)

The employee speedily checks out your items and puts them in a paper bag. She asks if there was anything else you’d like, and you contemplate on the hot coffee that you wanted. You pull out the coins and one lone paper bill you had in your pockets to assess if it’s within your budget.

“Is this enough for what I got?” you lay out your change and then some on the counter. It may be your imagination, but it feels like the guy behind you is watching. You shift to the side slightly to hide the fact that you’re paying with coins.

She glances at your choice of payment, and says words that could literally be the cause of your death tonight. “I’m sorry, do you have an extra fifty cents? These would only pay for three of your cup noodles, miss.”

Robbed of one, already cheap choice of dinner tonight, her voice seemed to increase in volume revealing your insufficient amount of cash on hand to everyone in the store.

She watches as you blink your eyes tight, face squirming hard.

“It’s okay… I’ll just get those that I can pay for,” you respond meekly, and she nods. You don’t hear anything else anymore, maybe she was offering a coupon or whatever, you had one mission and one thing in mind only: get the hell out of there.

You take the paper bag, bow your head in thanks, and head out the door faster than you can realize that the rain had started pouring hard for what seemed like a few minutes prior.

Now your sweater is drenched, your paper bag is starting to crumble from the bottom, and you didn’t bring an umbrella.

Nor do you have any money or phone with you to call a cab to your apartment.

In an effort to keep some parts of you not wet, you keep to yourself just barely outside of the store where the roof is still hanging; just enough to cover half of your body from the pouring rain. It’s amazing, you think, what absolute god must you have angered for you to be stuck in something so stupid like this?

You can’t go back in the store, the guy is still there— suddenly you realize with a panic in your heart. He’ll see you here, right next to the door, waiting for the rain to stop once he exits out of the store.

Either way, he’ll recognize you, and to pity you or laugh at you secretly, it’s his choice now. It’s his right to, you wouldn’t care anymore.

Let the clown music reverberate in your ears, it’s an anthem you’d proudly sing amidst pouring rain.

With your thoughts seeming to come to life for the nth time, the door opens with an annoying chime, and as you look up it’s him, of course, it’s him.

But he’s not laughing nor does it look like he’s just going to avoid your sorry figure. He stands next to you, opens up his black umbrella at an arm’s reach and puts it over both your heads. His shoulders touch your wet sweater, and you’re inclined to move away but the umbrella can only cover a tiny area.

You hold in a breath, afraid when you exhale he’d see panic written all over your face.

“You okay?”

You nod, keeping your gaze forward, into the dim surroundings and the pitter patter of the night sky.

“Do you have any means of going home?” He asks again, and you’re sure he’s looking at you.

“I was planning on walking…” you finally quip, quiet and unsure of yourself. “Once the rain stops,” you let out a shaky breath. Frankly, you feel more stressed out than nervous at this point.

He doesn’t strike you as a man with malicious intent so far, and if he were to rob you right here right now, well — he should know, of all people in this store (aside from the cashier) that there’s nothing of value with you at the moment. You’re basically of no value as far as you can tell.

Sad.

“It doesn’t look like it’s stopping anytime soon,” he says, and you take a quick peek at him. He scans the surroundings, eyes focused and eyebrows knitted together. He looks back at you, and you’re frozen in place.

“Let me call a cab for you,” he tells you with concern.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” you say frantically, dismissing him with one hand. The other was still holding the wet paper bag against your chest, and you feel it dampening your sweater each second that passes by. “I can just wait it out in the store.”

He continues to look at you as he pouts, and you stand there next to him feeling small. You appreciate his kindness, really, but you know a guy dressed like that has better places to be at and you’re here slowing him down.

“Honestly, it’s okay,” you try and ease his worries, but he doesn’t look convinced. “I live, like, fifteen minutes away. I have nothing else to do at home, so there’s no reason for me to be back so soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you urge on, smiling at his politeness. “Besides, I don’t want to keep you here. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Nonsense. It should be the rain apologizing to us,” he says with a tsk.

You can’t help but giggle at his silly remark. He’s handling this stress-free while you haven’t stopped sweating since he stood beside you with the umbrella.

“How about this, I give you my umbrella—” you start to protest but he puts a finger up, coaxing you to bite your lip to keep it shut. “— so that you can walk home without getting rained on too much, and I’ll call myself a cab.”

It was a tempting offer, but not quite reasonable to you yet.

It’s the generosity he’s offering which shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, in fact, you should feel relieved. But your guard is still up, even if the rain isn’t letting up itself anytime soon.

If you keep declining him, who knows how much more patience he has to appease your feigning grandiose modesty?

“I’d pay for your cab if I had money with me right now,” you admit shyly. “Unless you’re comfortable with an online transfer, I’d have to know your information...” It was a stretch because maybe at that point you’d learn of his name, but you didn’t want to go too far.

“Don’t worry about me for a moment. You can take my umbrella, and I can take a cab. We get home safely, with one of us less drenched unfortunately, but everything will work out in the end. Deal?” His proposition sounds so firm and settled that you had no reason to deny him anymore.

So you relent, much to your own benefit, too. “Fine.”

He chuckles at your unintentional curt response. You correct yourself, “I mean— thank you, for the umbrella. Sorry, I was just stupid to go out without one, knowing it was gonna rain sooner than later.”

“Happens to the best of us,” he chuckles again while pulling something out of his own paper bag. You recognize it immediately, the cup noodles you had to let go of.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have—”

“There you go again, rejecting what I’m putting down here,” he chastises. “It would be a shame if,” he looks at the label before continuing, “Savory Shiitake Soup was left out unwillingly with his other cup noodle pals.”

You stop yourself from internally cringing at how he read it so slowly, as if he’s never had cup ramen in his life. You’d believe it, too, but then again he’s the one parading his sophisticated looks in a local store at a random town.

“I stick to the basic kinds,” he explains, seeing the meek surprise on your face.

It is almost twenty degrees out yet your body temperature is steaming hot. You admit defeat (to yourself) and open up the paper bag so he can put the cup inside. Secretly, you’re thankful the whole gang is in there which makes your stomach grumble all of a sudden. And he hears it.

“I take it, it's almost dinnertime,” he points out.

“Shut up,” you say, lips pouting. To a stranger.

He laughs at the bluntness. “It’s the perfect meal for a weather like this. If you have any eggs at home, I recommend cracking one in right before you eat it.”

“Yes!” You exclaim loudly, eyes shining with interest.

You’ve always done that with your ramen, albeit you hear of some people’s disgust over such a technique.

“I do have eggs at home, thank god, but I can’t believe you do it that way too,” you disclose. It makes the soup eggy and more creamy, what can you say?

“I add a drop of chili oil for added spice on mine, that really seals the deal for me,” you continue, feeling a little less uptight being next to him. However, the moment you uttered those words, his face grimaces for a second as he gulps and nods absently at you.

“You’re not a spicy guy yourself?” It comes out before you register what those words could mean otherwise.

He doesn’t catch it or at least, he doesn’t mind. He laughs again, and the gleeful contrast of his voice to the harsh rain is somewhat giving you warmth inside.

(And not the sweaty kind.)

“Not in regards to food, sadly no,” he says. “My friends tolerate it better than I do, so whenever I have the chance to cook for them I have to separate their portions if the recipe called for some kick to it.”

“You cook?”

“I try to,” he implies sheepishly, cheekbones turning up with the way he grins. It was endearing, watching him explain how it’s become a hobby of his for the past few months and that his roommates have benefited as a result.

All the food talk continues to make you hungrier, but the way he shares personal stories all of a sudden is a delightful experience for you. His eyes glint animatedly when he recalls the time when two of his friends fought over leftover bulgogi, in which he had no choice but to make some more. At two in the morning.

You listen intently, and laugh when he reaches the punchline and prideful banter about the people he seemed to deeply care about. It didn’t even matter how hard hitting the rain felt against the ground, you were actually covered quite expansively by the umbrella.

In return, you quickly notice that the side of his coat has been drenched all this time. Instinctively, you pull at the sleeve of his clothing, surprising him by the movement as you butt heads for a moment. It wasn’t hard, but it definitely paused the natural flow of conversation you two were having.

“You’ve had the umbrella mostly on me this whole time,” you chide almost regretting doing so, “Sorry.”

“It’s just clothes,” he chuckles upon realizing what just happened, but afterwards his smile returns. “Thanks for looking out for me, though.”

You feel yourself smiling too wide from that comment.

You think of something to say before you get too comfortable with this feeling, and then you remember: “You haven’t booked your way home yet.”

“Oh! You’re right,” he says a little too quickly, and you feel a twinge of disappointment weighting in your stomach at how fast he reacted to that.

Of course, at the end of the day, he’s just stuck with you due to some unlucky situation you found yourself in. He’s just doing you a favor.

He checks his phone for a few minutes, the light illuminating on his face. You notice the hard lines of his jaw and the curvature of his nose a bit more definitely now, and it’s amazing how one person can look like that.

This time, you reprimand yourself from staring too much and so you watch the people passing by again. Hand in hand, raincoats and umbrellas in their grasp as they fight against the current of the rain.

“Okay, I just finished booking it on the app. It says it should arrive in less than five minutes,” he brings you out of your reverie.

“That’s great to hear,” you say with as much enthusiasm as you can. You eye the handle of the umbrella in which his hand has been gripping all this time. You know you’re soon to be left with it, alone, as he rides the cab and finally part ways with you.

“I can keep holding on to this until it gets here,” he says, almost reading your mind. “I hope it is of good use to you tonight, and in the near future.”

“I’ll keep it safe and useful, of course,” you say, feeling the pit of your stomach get heavier and heavier. You’re not sure what it is, or you’re probably in denial. You start to count the seconds in your head, imagining how to tell him goodbye and perhaps… never seeing him again.

You don’t even know his name.

“I’m Younghyun— before I forget,” yet again, he hears the pleas in your mind and you ought to keep the thoughts silent as he suspiciously introduces himself.

“I’ve been exposing my friends’ and their ways of borderline gluttony to you, I haven’t even given you my name yet.”

Younghyun, you repeat in your head. Your lips curl upward at the sound of his name, it suits him well.

“Do you mind if I can get yours as well?” It was a polite question, nothing out of the ordinary of two people meeting each other for the first time.

But Younghyun seemed to have other, further plans from that. His phone is still on, and it’s facing in your direction. Looking down, you see that he has an unfilled out contact information on the screen.

“Oh,” you mumble out loud, not wanting for it to sound too pleasantly surprised. He takes it the other way, however, as he tries to retract his phone. “Sorry, I thought— I just wanted to know if you got home safely and—”

“No, please! It’s okay. I’d— um, I don’t have my phone on me right now but I can text my number if that’s alright with you,” you explain quickly before he can put it back in his pocket.

With an openly relieved expression, Younghyun changes the app to his messages and gives you his phone. You type in something easy to recognize in addition to your name on it, and send it to your number. Right as you give it back to him, a car with its headlights on park upfront, beaming the two of you with its brightness.

“I guess that’s my ride,” Younghyun hesitates. “I know it seems odd, but I really enjoyed talking to you despite…,” he finishes by looking at the puddle forming underneath where you both stand. You agree with a hearty laugh, the uneasiness you feel inside dissipating.

“Thank you, for the umbrella. And my cheap shiitake noodles,” you humor him, but your words are laced with sincerity.

He hands you the umbrella, enclosing his fingers over yours as you grip onto the handle tightly. His hand is just the right temperature, cozy and warm. It immediately sends your head reeling.

“Are you sure you don’t want to share the ride with me? I think I’ve proven enough to you that I’m just a beginner in the kitchen, and not an evil person,” Younghyun suggests. You nudge him just enough to tip him over the edge, playful and amicable on your end.

“I’ll text you, I promise. Is that good enough for you, Younghyun?” With the sound of his name coming from you, lips widen in the most cheerful grin he’s shared to you today.

If you’re being really honest with yourself, you feel a little special.

“You better stay true to your words.”

“Go home, Younghyun!”

You watch his ride pull out of the parking lot, and drive into the night. It’s funny because the rain went from hazardous conditions to gentle whispers of droplets which makes walking back home easier for you, probably even without an umbrella.

But you hold onto it tight, knowing that Younghyun had his hands on the same spot makes you squeal like a teenage girl on the way home. You walk faster than normal, pools of water on the pavement splashing at the ends of your sweatpants. It’s disgusting, you most likely need to change completely, but it was far from your concern.

You get home and head straight for your bed where your phone was, disregarding the drenched clothes you have on dripping on the sheets.

The text from Younghyun’s number came through, and inspecting further he texts you two more times.

You giggle, finally letting out giddy feelings where no one can judge you. You text him back.

And you think that’s the end for today, and you think of things to say for tomorrow that wouldn’t make you seem like you’re overstepping it. But your phone vibrates in your hand, and your eyes stare at his quick response.

Your heart pounds in your chest; it’s heavy, weighing down on you but for completely different reasons.

You plop down on your bed head first, pillow against your cheek. You actually do it, you scream. Not of what you thought you’d be doing, but the complete opposite.

Before you pass out in excitement, you manage a reply.

You do end up staying up late at night, eating your well deserved hot cup of noodles. But the laptop isn’t on, and you decide you can catch up on shows some other time.

You and Younghyun text the night away, it’s not awkward anymore. You feel yourself easing up to his banter through messages and gifs which you try to one up him every so often.

The rain had stopped sometime in the night, and instead your heart continued to pound heavily in your chest. It was exhilarating, to say the least, but you welcomed the feeling of having something to look forward to.

You remind yourself to not only do groceries tomorrow, but also do your laundry. (You never got to change into something more dry that night.)

#young k scenarios #young k imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #brian kang imagines #brian kang scenarios #young k x reader #young k au #day6 au #by:jiae

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olicitysecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Love In An Elevator

For: Mirka @kuningatarmirka by @jennonthewire

Love In An Elevator

Another way Oliver and Felicity could have met, involving elevators and mistaken identity.

“Hi. I’m glad you could finally make it.”

One year earlier…

Felicity Smoak is having the kind of day that makes a person wish they’d never gotten out of bed. Overqualified for the grunt work she slogs through in IT at Merlyn Global, answering to a boss who’s so incompetent she can’t fathom how he even graduated college, and being the only woman in her entire department leaves her feeling less than stellar most days. But today is particularly awful, so much so that she grabbed her purse and walked out of her cubicle with no plans to return — which is how she now finds herself alone in the elevator at three twenty in the afternoon, several hours before she would normally clock out.

Leaning back against the cool metal of the elevator wall, she closes her eyes and tries to breathe deeply. Usually when she pictures abruptly quitting her job, it’s on the heels of telling off her boss and maybe programming his ringtone to elephant farts. She might still do that, actually.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the elevator has stopped until a man steps in. He’s tall with broad shoulders snuggled into an impeccably fitted suit. She’s trying not to stare but it just can’t be helped. He flashes a polite smile then turns to face the door, and it’s a moment before she can tear her gaze away. He’s unfairly handsome. It’s stupid, really. No one should be that good-looking, and yet here he is.

“I love you.”

Did she just hear him right? Who tells random strangers they love them? Maybe he said ‘I love your shoes’ because her panda flats are really adorable or ‘I love ewes’ because he’s a big fan of sheep. Or what if this is some kind of time travel thing and he’s her husband from the future come back to replay their meet-cute? If she’s learned anything from years of Doctor Who watching, it’s that time is wibbly wobbly and anything is possible.

Except that this isn’t a TV show and she hasn’t said anything back, which feels rude? Maybe he’s just a guy who wants to spread happiness around. There’s nothing wrong with that.

“I love you, too.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she watches in utter horror as his back stiffens.

He turns to her slowly, lips pursed and eyebrows raised to the ceiling. She raises her hand in a little wave and tries to smile, but she stops midair when he also raises his hand and points to his ear.

And the Bluetooth he’s wearing.

Because he’s on the phone.

And not talking to her.

If the ground opened up and she fell through to another dimension, one where she hadn’t just told a complete stranger on an elevator who’s talking on the phone that she loves him, that’d be great.

When the elevator stops an eternity later, she’s out the door and through the lobby in a flash. She doesn’t even take a breath until she’s out on the sidewalk. Although now she’s unsure what to do as her car is in the parking garage, which is the level where she meant to get off but didn’t?, meaning she likely exited on the level Elevator Man chose, which means he could be around here somewhere.

Frack.

“Hi. I’m Oliver Queen.” The voice is smooth and soothing, and of course, belongs to Elevator Man. He’s likely trying to not startle the weirdo who just emotionally accosted him, and is now staring at him bug-eyed as if he’s a figment of her imagination. And maybe he is? Likely not, as the universe isn’t that kind to her today. Or ever, really.

Wait. Oliver Queen as in… Queen Consolidated. As in the C-E-fracking-O of Queen Consolidated! Frack, frack, double frack! Of course he’s Oliver Queen because her day literally could not get any worse.

“As I recall, you’re the one who told me you loved me. Can I really be all that bad?” Oliver Queen is standing in front of her, smiling.

Felicity closes her eyes tightly, realizing she’s just said all of that out loud and wishing she could teleport to anywhere but here.

“Yeah, you did.” Is he laughing at her?

“Are you laughing at me?” She jabs a finger into his chest. “Because listen, mister. I was just trying to not be rude. When someone says ‘I love you,’ the most obvious answer is ‘I love you, too.’ And frankly, I’ve had a really terrible day so sue me if my brain wasn’t exactly thinking clearly enough to contain my mouth.”

“I’m sorry,” he atones.

“Actually, don’t sue me. Please. I think I just quit my job and I can’t really afford attorney fees at the moment.”

She doesn’t realize he’s removed her finger from his chest and is holding her hand in a light grip until he says, “How about we start again? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen. And you are?”

“Felicity,” she replies, looking down at their clasped hands. Oliver moves to shake hers, “Smoak. Felicity Smoak. It’s nice to meet you.”

Oliver releases her hand with an easy smile. “Not so bad, right?”

“No, not so bad,” she teases back.

She immediately misses the feeling of his palm in hers, which is insane because he’s a complete stranger she just met and is also the best friend-slash-competitive rival of her boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s son, Tommy Merlyn. Well, maybe ex-bosses now.

“Hmm?” She’s broken from her thoughts by his hand waving in front of her face.

“I asked if you wanted to get a cup of coffee. It seems like you could use one.” There’s that easy smile again.

She should say no. After all, she basically just quit her job and should get home to start planning her next steps. Rent doesn’t exactly pay itself.

But instead she surprises herself yet again. “Yes. Coffee would be nice.”

Felicity can’t say she’d ever imagined sitting across from Oliver Queen while drinking coffee, or that she’s thought about Oliver Queen that much at all.

But that’s exactly what’s been happening for the past three hours, as they’ve talked and shared and laughed. Oliver is an incredibly good listener. He never interrupts, just nods and asks thoughtful questions when she’s said something he doesn’t quite get.

“So, if working for someone else is ‘literally killing your soul,’ then why not work for yourself?”

“It’s not that I haven’t thought about it, Oliver. But starting your own company isn’t that easy. I have a small amount of savings that would probably cover the cost of branding and maybe advertising, but I’d be my only employee and my office space” — she air quotes — “would be the spare bedroom in my townhouse that you can’t currently see the floor of because it’s covered in spare computer parts.”

“People have started successful businesses with less, Felicity.”

She doesn’t think he understands what a risk it would be if it didn’t pan out, and tells him so.

“I don’t want to be offensive here, Oliver, but you’re a literal billionaire. You can afford to take risks with your money. I can’t.” Sitting back in her seat, she sips her second cup of coffee as a break in the conversation.

“Felicity.” Oliver leans forward slightly, elbows on the table. “I may not understand what it’s like to have money issues.” She snorts at that and he can’t help but smile a little. She’s charming him and she doesn’t even know it. “But I do know, very well, what it’s like to be in a job you hate — how much it takes from you, how hard you have to work just to keep your head above water.”

Placing her mug down carefully, she regards Oliver with a shrewd look that lets him know she’s figured out more than he may have been meaning to tell her.

“You don’t like being a CEO?”

It’s his turn to sip his coffee mindfully, deciding what feels comfortable to tell a stranger that also technically still works for your main competitor.

“I feel like I can trust you, Felicity.”

“What can I say? I just have one of those faces.” She’s hoping to lighten the sudden heaviness that’s taken over their conversation, but realizes quickly when his face falls that she’s said the wrong thing.

“Hey. You can trust me.” Felicity stretches her arm out across the table and turns her palm up, encouraging him. He takes her hand, and she squeezes softly.

“Thank you. And not really, no.” He shakes his head. “When my father died, there was just this assumption that I’d take over the company. My sister is still too young, although I think she’d make a much better CEO than I do. She’s ruthless,” he quips. Felicity smiles a little, and nods for him to continue.

“I’m not cut out for it. My dad used to bring me to QC when I was a kid. He’d sit me in his office, and I’d pretend to sign documents and give orders. It was some of the only time I got to spend with him. The company kept him away, and then so did his extracurriculars.” Oliver frowns heavily at that, and Felicity doesn’t have to ask to know exactly what he means.

“I don’t want to be my dad, Felicity. He worked himself to death, and when he was home, it wasn’t any better. My parents fought constantly, which was better than them not fighting because at least they weren’t ignoring each other completely.” He holds her hand a little tighter. “That’s not going to be me. But, the company needs someone to lead if for no other reason than to save the jobs of thousands of employees. I can’t make a different choice, not yet at least.”

“Thank you for telling me that, Oliver. I know it can’t be easy to talk about.”

He nods. “Easy with you, it seems.” The blush that creeps up her neck and onto her cheeks makes him smile.

“I feel the same way, which is kind of weird, right? Seeing as we just met?”

“I guess. Or… not.” He smiles and Felicity can’t help but smile back. “Felicity, would you like to go out to dinner with me?” “I don’t want to read too much into this, but are you asking me out on a date?” Her voice squeaks just a little. “Like an actual date? Like a date, date?”

“Well, sure uh…” he stumbles. “The implication being with dinner that you’d uh…”

“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments,” she interrupts.

Oliver smiles then and huffs out a laugh before his face turns serious. “Felicity, would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

“What about your girlfriend?”

He pauses, “my what?”

“In the elevator earlier, you said ‘I love you’ to someone. I guess I just assumed —”

“Ah. That was my sister, Thea, on the phone earlier. She was trying to sweet talk me after her report card came in the mail. She’s seventeen and in danger of not graduating. I hired her a tutor, which she’s against.” He leans back in his chair, “but with those grades she’s out of options.”

“You’re a good brother, Oliver. She may not appreciate what you’re doing for her now, but she’ll thank you later when she’s walking across that stage to get her diploma.”

“I don’t need her thanks, but cooperation would be appreciated,” he laughs. “So, dinner?”

“Yes,” she nods, biting her lip to hold back the smile threatening to overtake her.

After her conversation with Oliver, Felicity goes home to crunch numbers and figure out just how she could make starting her own company work. She emails her resignation to Merlyn Global, and resists the urge to tell her boss exactly what she thinks of him, and then sets to registering her business name and applying for necessary licenses. Within a few days Smoak Tech is officially launched, from Felicity’s spare bedroom and with only one employee. But it’s everything, and she feels the universe is finally on her side.

She and Oliver talk regularly and still meet for coffee, at what’s now their usual place, more days than not, but they haven’t scheduled their date. If Felicity is honest with herself, the reason isn’t that she’s been too busy but rather that she’s purposefully avoiding the situation.

Oliver is kind and patient. He seems to get her despite them having known each other for only a few weeks. She tries to joke with him about her abandonment issues, make light of the situation so she doesn’t seem as broken as she feels. But Oliver isn’t having it.

“You don’t have to be funny for me,” he promises.

She sighs heavily. He really does get her.

“When I was a girl, I hated myself. I thought I was broken. That no one could, or ever would, love me.” She turns away then, feeling tears prick her eyelids. “It’s the only way a child could grow up when their father abandons them.”

Oliver is silent as she talks, but the space between them isn’t uncomfortable. He nods patiently, encouraging her.

“All I ever wanted to know was why, you know?” She swipes her fingers underneath her glasses hoping to save mascara from running down her face. “What was so wrong with me that he would leave?” “Felicity…”

“It’s okay, Oliver.” She smiles at him a little. “I don’t need you to make it better. I just wanted you to understand. I’ve already made a huge change in starting Smoak Tech and leaving a job that paid me, not to mention the health and dental benefits were excellent.” He chuckles at that and some of the tension leaves her body knowing he hears her. “I just… can’t start anything else new right now that I’d want to give my full attention to.” She leans over the table they’ve each come to think of as their spot and cups his cheek in one hand. “And I know that whatever this is between us deserves my full attention. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us now. Do you understand?”

He places his hand over hers, and leans into her palm just a little.

“I do. We can wait,” he starts. “Oliver, I can’t ask you to do that —” “Stop interrupting.” She folds her lips together and it earns her a smile. He removes her hand from his cheek, but doesn’t let go.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Let’s be friends. See where it goes.” He shrugs a little. “I like you, Felicity. I care about you. And I want you in my life. If you’re not ready for anything more than friendship that’s okay.” “What if I’m never ready?” she asks quietly.

“Then I’ll be happy to be your friend.” He’s so matter-of-fact in his answer that Felicity can’t help but be wary. It can’t be that easy.

“Except it is,” he challenges. When she blinks, he adds, “Out loud again.”

“Of course it was.” She rolls her head back and stares at the tin-lined ceiling. “I don’t want you to think I’m dangling maybes, Oliver.”

“Hey. Look at me.” He continues when he has her attention, “You’re not dangling anything.”

“So, we’re friends?”

“We are.” His mouth quirks just a little in that way he has that lets her know he’s amused by her. Felicity nods in acceptance, still holding his hand.

“Can we still go out for dinner, though? I’m really craving Italian.”

Over the course of a year, she and Oliver foster a friendship — one that becomes a cornerstone of her life in Starling. Building a start-up is exactly as hard as it sounds, some days even more so, and leaves her little time for herself let alone to nurture relationships. But Oliver is there anyway, supporting her from the sidelines. He reminds her to call her mother once a week, and cheerleads her into taking a weekend off to visit Barry and Iris: “They’re your best friends, Felicity, and you haven’t seen them in months. Smoak Tech might be an infant, but she can manage without her mom for two days. Trust me.”

Whether it’s bringing homemade lasagna to her office after hours because he knows she’s still there — “You can’t tell me you’ve eaten anything other than coffee and M&Ms because I won’t believe you” — or providing a listening ear at two in the afternoon or two in the morning — “You can always call me, Felicity” — he’s quickly become her best friend.

He’s the only person in her life who doesn’t make her feel guilty when she reads texts and forgets to reply, or drops off the grid for days at a time lost in perfecting some minute aspect of a security code she’s creating for her client. Instead, he reminds her gently to shower and sleep; and on the days she’s particularly tired and weary, offers up a foot rub and her favorite glass of red wine. They spend Sunday mornings at Oliver’s apartment where he prepares them brunch — “I like cooking for you”— a passion of his that Felicity wholeheartedly appreciates given her own lack of culinary prowess.

A few months after they meet, Thea is arrested for driving under the influence, and Felicity is the person Oliver calls to go with him to retrieve her from the police station in the middle of the night. She holds his hand on the car ride to the precinct, and reminds him to go easy on his sister — “She needs her big brother who loves her unconditionally more than a lecture right now.”

When Thea is given probation and mandatory community service, Felicity offers her an intern position and makes it her personal mission to help Thea find things she’s good at to invest her time in that don’t include shopping or partying.

Of course, the side effect of Thea working closely with Felicity is the opportunity for her to keenly observe just how her brother and his favorite blonde genius interact. After watching them dance around each other for what feels like years, she takes it upon herself to point out to Felicity what their “friendship” — “Yes, I’m using air quotes appropriately” — looks like from the outside, while they share dim sum she’s ordered in for lunch.

“You two know you’re dating, right? That’s what this is like, you’re not just friends.”

“Of course we are, Thea. Your brother is my best friend,” Felicity counters.

“Right, but you’re also in love with him.” Thea points a chopstick in Felicity’s direction, but in a subtle effort to avoid questioning is stuffing an entire dumpling in her mouth.

“It’s fine, you know. He’s in love with you, too,” she shrugs casually. “Anyone can see that… well, except maybe you.”

“I’m not in love with your brother, Thea,” Felicity tries, forcing the words from her mouth in a way that even she can admit doesn’t sound the least bit convincing. “Really,” Thea deadpans. “And that’s why you’re six different shades of red right now and I wouldn’t even be able to make out what you just said with that second dumpling you just stuffed in your mouth if I didn’t eat lunch with you every day.”

Felicity attempts a side eye that comes out more like a quizzical grimace.

“I’m going to take that look to mean you know I’m right.” Thea collects her take-out box and napkins before standing. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it right this minute but…” Thea closes her eyes for a moment and when she looks at her again Felicity is struck by the sincerity she sees in her expression. “You and my brother. I don’t know. You just work. You’re smart and capable and you challenge him. He’s grumpy and annoying —” “I like to call that brooding,” Felicity interrupts.

“Yeah, that,” she snorts. They both share an eye roll at Oliver’s expense. “But he’s also happy. You make him happy. He trusts you, and you know Ollie so you also know how hard that is for him. He’s taken on a lot since Dad died and left him the company. He never wanted that.”

“I know he didn’t,” she mumbles quietly.

“Right,” Thea nods, “which just makes my point for me. He confides in you, relies on your opinion. You help him see there’s more to life than QC and responsibility. You’re his person, Felicity.”

She turns to leave then, not waiting for a response, but stops in the doorway. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. Ollie and I didn’t grow up with a great example of what a relationship should be so I know love stories don’t always end up happy.“

“Yeah, line forms behind me on that one.”

Thea’s smile is small but kind. “But we can’t let our parents’ mistakes influence our decisions, especially if it means we miss out on the possibility of love.”

Felicity purses her lips together as she regards her young protégé. “Thea Queen, when did you get so wise?”

“It’s a gift,” she responds with a shrug of her shoulder.

Felicity mulls over what Thea said on the drive home that night. Could Oliver be in love with her? She replays in her mind conversations she’s had with him over the past year.

If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me.

Is that judgment I’m hearing? Pride.

You’re not gonna lose me.

Thank you for always being on my side.

No other place I’d rather be.

I know who you are. You’re the man that I believe in.

Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy.

You’re remarkable.

It’s been a quiet dream she’s kept to herself all these months: of him feeling the same and their making a go of it — being in love and happy, having a partner to rely on, their own team of two. She’s not wanted to say out loud that she’s in love with Oliver. It’s felt too risky, made her too vulnerable, too fragile. What if it didn’t work out? She’d lose her best friend and the man she loves all at once. But when she looks toward the future, she can’t imagine it without him. He’s her always.

And she just wants a chance to be his.

He’d texted her earlier that day asking if she wanted to stop by for dinner, and she’d replied with a quick “We’ll see, hopefully yes,” but that was hours ago. Whatever he’d made for dinner was probably cold by now, and maybe he wouldn’t even be waiting for her still.

In what is the second impulsive life decision she’s made since meeting Oliver Queen, she makes a u-turn and rather than continuing on her drive home heads toward Oliver’s apartment. She doesn’t have a plan outside of tell Oliver you’re in love with him, which as far as plans go is not the best. Oliver deserves an entire monologue of all the ways she appreciates him, and just how much he means to her.

You’ve opened up my heart in a way I didn’t know was possible.

You’re always saying how you want me to be happy. The thing is, as long as you’re in my life I am.

I love every moment that I’m with you, no matter where we are.

We found ourselves in each other.

Love is too small a word.

The elevator ride to his floor feels like the longest of her life, and is incredibly ironic considering the last time she was in an elevator and told Oliver she loved him; back then, she was hoping the Hellmouth that’s very likely under Starling would open up and swallow her whole.

What a difference a year can make.

It’s the ding signaling she’s reached the penthouse that brings her back to the present, and directly across from Oliver’s door. She’s been here hundreds of times and never felt nervous, but now she’s concentrating on her breathing and making sure she puts one foot in front of the other.

“It’s now or never, Smoak,” she whispers to herself. “Go get your man.”

She raises a shaky hand to knock, but pulls back at the last second to take another calming breath. Closing her eyes tight, she raps against the wood in quick succession. It takes Oliver less than thirty seconds to answer the door, yet it feels like an eternity as every scenario of how this could go horribly wrong flies through her head.

“No,” she steels herself. “You deserve this.”

When the door opens, Oliver stands in front of her wearing that soft Henley she loves to steal on movie nights when she’s cold and those jeans that give her not-so-platonic thoughts every time he turns around. But it’s his socks that get her. He’s wearing the pair she picked up for him in the airport gift shop after her last visit home. The words Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada are written across his toes, and she can’t help but grin.

Even when she’s not here, she’s with him. The smile on his face mirrors hers, and she takes his outstretched hand to lead her inside.

“Hi. I’m glad you could finally make it.”

#arrow #olicity #olicity secret santa #goodbye olicity #submission

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restingdomface · 4 years

Text

So in a fit of brilliance I’ve decided the two posts tagged ‘coffee date au’ are set in the same universe where Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue agree to go on a date (they’re college buddies) but then suddenly they both show up slightly panicked and with a kid each (LXC doesn’t have a mom, and their dad is really agoraphobic since she died, and uncle is teaching a class rn, but NMJ still can’t convince his dad he should get a nanny for the kid and he’s having flashbacks to all the dangerous shit he chewed on as a kid and all the knives A-Sang could get his sticky hands on in their house, he swears he’s babyproofed like ten times now) and now it’s fate. Absolute love at first date and even if they break up they know damn well they’re gonna be sticking together for the sake of giving these kids some ounce of stability in their lives, and it’s actually kinda nice.

Anyways. One day when the kids are like six they meet Meng Yao, currently picking up like two kids from the daycare center (twins, his youngest siblings, now MXY cause he’s not born yet, but he’ll show up later) and they’re calling him brother and he’s fussing over them like a parent and then he looks at LXC and NMJ and they’re all ‘oh no he’s cute’ and invite a very stressed out looking Meng Yao (he has like twice as many classes as any sane person and he’s passing all of them with very high grades but he hasn’t slept in a while) to their weekly cafe date where they go to a nice little cafe off campus and buy a stupid amount of coffee and then spend the day playing with the kids cause LXC and NMJ never got played with as kids either, and MY isn’t really sure how to turn them down (they fukin hawt but also he’s on a scholarship and has basically no money that’s not going to keep the kids fed and clothed and he’s not really willing to spend it on frivolous things like dates) so he reluctantly ends up going, and it’s nice and they’re both basically rich boys who don’t make him pay and the kids make friends.

By the time they meet Jiang Chang and Wei Wuxian, the boys are both 10 and now Meng Yao is juggling two seven year olds and a one year old infant and tbh it’s actually Jin Zixuan who tracks him down when he finds out his father has been apparently dumping his bastard children on his first bastard son and Meng Yao looks TERRIFIED because he’s always been threatened that he’s not allowed to talk to his fathers only legitimate son and that if he does his father will cut off all contact entirely but leave him with the kids. Jin Guangshan has been keeping a tight leash on his finances, paying for his housing and stuff and food for the kids, but even then it’s barely enough and his boyfriends know that any sort of date or fun activity needs to be paid for by them or he can’t go at all because their father is terrible and just wants to abuse a poor kid who just made the mistake of agreeing to give his half siblings a better life.

Anyways. LXC and NMJ aren’t there yet or they likely would have threatened (lol LXC can’t threaten, he might try to deescalate the situation tho) Jin Zixuan, but they’re still not to the cafe yet and Meng Yao was in the middle of giving Mo Xuanyu a bottle and he’s basically stuck there, and he’s tired and the espresso hasn’t kicked in yet and JZX is saying something but MY isn’t paying attention.

Until the cafe doors open and two arguing ten year olds come barreling through, arguing about Pokémon or something and pulling each other’s hair. And JZX just sorta. Sighs.

He turns around to look at the kids with a disapproving frown. ‘A-Cheng, don’t pull A-Ying’s hair. Where did your sister get off to?’

Obviously, their older sister, JZX’s fiancé, was supposed to be keeping an eye on her terrible two, but A-Ying said she found a pretty hair pin in the store down the street and they got bored waiting for her and the shop owner scolded them for touching things, but then A-Cheng said A-Ying was the one touching stuff!! And now they’re arguing and pulling hair again and JZX has to get up and gently lead them both over to the table by the hand, getting them both settled down and asking what they want to drink.

This is so fucking surreal, Meng Yao almost forgets he has a fussy baby in his arms demanding attention until a slobbery little hand smacks him in the face and he goes back to gentle cooing at the little thing while giving him his bottle.

‘Oh! Is that A-Yu? Zi-gege said we were looking for A-Yu today! Can we play with him?’

Meng Yao isn’t sure what to do as the kids devolve from questions into arguing again. The twins are giving them funny looks, and since the boys were lead to the table, have finally abanonded their pretty drawings (they were drawing Yao-gege and also ErGe and DaGe too but they hadn’t gotten around to A-Zhan and A-Sang yet) to come back over to the table with Meng Yao and their new baby brother.

The two terrors stop arguing. A-Ying looks excitable. ‘I’m A-Ying! This is A-Cheng! Who are you?’

The twins look up at Meng Yao nervously, and he smiles at them gently, not knowing what else to do here.

Is Jin Zixuan here to take Xuanyu with him? He really hopes not. He isn’t sure what he and the girls would do to lose their new little brother. Things were tight around the house, just barely getting by with what they had, but Yao couldn’t lose him.

The first little girl, closest to Yao’s hand holding the bottle smiles. ‘I’m A-Ju, and this is my sister, A-Su.’

Su was a confident little one, but she had Yao’s tendency to watch people too critically before attempting to say anything. Ju tended to be more open.

JZX comes back and stands behind the boys after he’s given them a couple sandwiches and milky tea, and just stares at the two girls that he hadn’t realized were with Meng Yao, and his features went from hopeful to dashed quite fast.

The door to the cafe opened up and Meng Yao looked up to see NMJ and LXC coming in with a new woman that he didn’t recognize, but the boys across from him got excited to see immediately, shouting out for their jiejie. Meng Yao just sat back, feeling a little sick, entirely unsure what to do now.

The kids are playing together. A-Zhan is staring at A-Ying in a way that suggests he can’t figure the boy out, and A-Ying won’t stop poking at him like he’s some sort of toy. A-Zhan, for his favor, seems content to let him. A-Sang, as usual, abandoned all of them to draw with the twins.

Admittedly, Meng Yao might have been holding the baby a little bit tight when he finally agreed to go to a private table with JZX, but he hadn’t really calmed down from the request until JZX said NMJ could come with, and it takes a gentle hand putting pressure on his neck until he lets up the tense way he’s holding little Xuanyu at Mingjue’s guidance.

He can’t do this. They can’t do this. He’s had Xuanyu for almost six months now, he’s /bonded/ with the little termite. He’s watched the baby’s first steps, holding onto the couch as he tried to climb up to be with his sisters. He’s cut back on work hours.

Their father suggested he cut back on work all together. That comment had solidified it for Meng Yao in a way that nothing ever did before. Their father wanted him truly captive and reliant on his benevolence.

Zixuan, for his part, looks genuinely sorry. ‘I never came here to worry you. I don’t know what you /think/ I’m here for, but I promise I have only the best intentions, and I don’t want to take Xuanyu away.’

Meng Yao goes even more tense if possible, and his voice is shaking. ‘Don’t... don’t /want/. Do you /intend/?’

Zixuan makes a horrified little noise, shaking his head. ‘No no no, of course not. Not that either I promise.’

Meng Yao nearly sagged in place, tiredly turning the fussing child in his arms so he could gently bounce him, letting Xuanyu hold onto his thumb while Meng Yao forced himself to relax.

Zixuan sounded so desperately sad when he spoke again, and Yao could see tears in his eyes. ‘I’m... I’m so sorry he did this to you. I didn’t even know about the girls till they showed up.’

Meng Yao nodded a little, unsure what to say beyond a shrug. ‘If I had been less young, less naive, maybe I wouldn’t have so eagerly agreed just so he would have a reason to stay in my life. That doesn’t mean I won’t do whatever I have to to keep them.’

Zixuan nodded. ‘Of course, I would never want to do that. Listen, I didn’t know about the girls, or even if you wanted to keep Xuanyu, so I didn’t bring the paperwork with me, but I do know a way to get you out of all of... /this/.’

Meng Yao’s brows furrowed. ‘This?’

Xuanyu nodded slowly. ‘Father still pays for everything for you. Apartment, utilities, bills, all that goes through him. I, as his heir, have access to all those records. It’s supposed to be mother’s job, but she refuses to touch anything that has to do with fathers... illegitimate kids.’

Meng Yao doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who would talk so frankly about all this. It was oddly refreshing. Even NMJ and LXC didn’t want to admit their father had dug him a financial grave and was slowly burying him alive with the kids.

He frowned. ‘I can’t even move in with Mingjue or Xichen because he’s a raging homophobe who thinks I’ll corrupt the kids that he cares so little for he doesn’t even properly give us enough to survive off of.’

Zixuan looked honestly distressed at that. ‘Oh. Fuck that’s worse than I hoped for. I’m so sorry.’

Meng Yao sighed, moving to look out the window. He shrugged. ‘It’s not like I’m /forbidden/ from having a job. It’s just harder with three kids. Mingjue and Xichen have been helping out for years, he just doesn’t know it because he doesn’t realize that banks aren’t the only way to keep track of finances now days.’

Mingjue tolled his eyes, his thumb moving gently against Meng Yao’s neck. ‘It’s like the old man doesn’t even realize PayPal exists.’

Zixuan snorted. ‘He really doesn’t. That takes care of half of what I’m here for. Even if he was giving you enough that you didn’t have to worry about food or bills, I would still be here to give you the access info to an account I set up for you last week. When the papers are signed, the only thing anyone but you will be able to do is put in the money. No one but you can close the account or take anything out.’

Meng Yao looked at him in shock. ‘Why would you do that?’

Zixuan made a stressed out angry noise, nose wrinkling in the same way Yao’s did when he was mad. ‘Because, I’ve seen his finances. What he’s giving you barely counts as pocket change to his bloated rich ass. I could drop a five million on you right now to ask you to move away and never come back and he wouldn’t even /notice/ because that’s how little that amount would be to him. He wouldn’t even realize you four had left until he realized he couldn’t find any of you.’

Meng Yao considered it for a moment. ‘Why /dont/ you do that?’

Zixuan’s expression was pure distaste. ‘Because I don’t have any reason whatsoever to hate any of you. I feel terrible that you made the mistake of being fathers newest whipping dog, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to pity you. You’re in a bad position, and I’m here to help you out of it. But I’m also not going to leave you without financial support. You may want to keep the kids, but these weren’t your mistakes to begin with, and father has been punishing you for years for it.’

Mingjue snorted, sitting back with his arms crossed. ‘You really don’t like your dad, do you kid?’

Zixuan shook his head. ‘Not particularly, no. Other than the bank account, I can convince father to give over full custody of the kids to you. No possible way to get any of them back.’

Meng Yao blinked at his half brother, sitting up straighter again, looking at him in shock. ‘How would you do that?’

Zixuan shrugs. ‘He’s not the only manipulative one in the family. I could get him to panic and drop custody entirely.’

And so that’s the story about how Meng Yao had a coffeeshop romance and also ended up with some kids out of it. Later on he and Mingjue and Xichen all move in together in a huge new house with all the kids and they’re. Happy.

#the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #mdzs #lan xichen #twin jades of lan #nie brothers #nie mingjue #jin zixuan #mo xuanyu #lol yeah one of the girls is su lol fuck ages #coffee date au #lol wwx and jc come over regularly to play now its really cute #theyre always arguing its adorable yanli loves her baby terrors #age change #lol fuck jgs hes terrible and abusive #meng yao

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everykindofnerd13 · 4 years

Text

“Okay so next, there’s,” Bianca was cut off by the newcomer.

“Wait!” He exclaimed grabbing her arm before they could leave the Hades cabin.

“What?” She asked.

“There are two floors right?” Bianca nodded.

“Uh, so can you show me the upstairs?” He asked her.

“No.” She answered simply and turned around.

“Ah! Why not?” He asked and she glared at him.

“You showed me the upstairs and all the other ones!” He complained. She sighed and shook her head.

“Artemis give me strength...” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Nico’s room is upstairs.” She explained, hoping the curious kid would drop it.

“So this kid gets a room all to himself!?” He asked, as if it affected him.

“Yes he does, he lives alone in the cabin practically year round, the only other children of Hades being myself and Hazel. I am a Lady of the Hunt and therefore spend most of my time with them. Hazel is a daughter of Pluto technically and stays either in New Rome or at Camp Jupiter most the time. Plus Nico designed the cabin himself, and if there aren’t going to be people there year-round with him, why should he have to share a space with no one?” The kid’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly. Bianca nodded back and they started off toward the arena.

“Well, she handled that better than expected...” Percy muttered from his place in Nico’s lap where they were looking through the tinted windows down to where Bianca was talking to the kid. In reality, Percy and Nico weren’t yet out to the camp. Well, Nico was out as gay, and it was rather obvious that Percy was at least queer to everyone so there wasn’t anything really bad that could happen, but no one knew the two were dating but Nico’s sisters, their significant others, and the duo’s closest friends. That list consisted of Bianca, Hazel, Tyson, Thalia, Frank, Leo, Ella, Lou Ellen, Will, Cecil, Ethan, Alabaster, Jason, Reyna, Annabeth, Piper, Grover, Rachel, and lastly, and surprisingly Clarisse. But over the more recent years, Percy had grown incredibly close to the daughter of Ares, and both were very protective of eachother nowadays. Though their frankly aggressive and borderline toxic bickering never faltered.

“Yeah, she knows the feeling of having a terrible secret though...” Nico explained and Percy glared playfully.

“A terrible secret? Gods, Di Angelo, if I’d known you hated me I wouldn’t have entered a relationship with you.” He joked and Nico pouted and pushed Percy back onto his bed so that he could lay on top of the older demigod.

“Shut up Gattino, we both know I cherish our relationship immensely.” Percy smiled and began carding his fingers through Nico’s hair to soothe him. He knew it was true. Nico had been crushing on Percy for almost 5 years by the time they figured stuff out and got together. Nico treated Percy practically as if he were a god himself, which to be fair, he was. But so was Nico.

“Of course little vampire. I’m completely aware, it’s a wonder you haven’t instructed Annabeth to construct a temple for my worship.” He joked and Nico hummed on his chest.

“Maybe that would be a good idea, si?” Nico asked and Percy made a confused noise in the back of his throat.

“A temple, on my family’s property in Italia. Just for you. And just for me.” Nico said, causing Percy to laugh.

“Neeks, I love you, but you are a broke child and Annabeth does absolutely nothing for free.” Percy pointed out and Nico raised an eyebrow.

“Principe Marino, you are dating a fellow god, of not only Heroic deaths, but also,” Nico kissed Percy’s jaw, “Fortuna di Famiglia.” Nico pointed out and Percy had to laugh at himself. Right, of course, being a son of Hades, Nico was now the god of Heroic deaths and family fortune. Meaning, because of god magic, the money left to him by his grandmama would never run out.

“Well, Neeks, if you’re so rich and prosperous, maybe we should also construct a temple for my worshipment of you.” Percy suggested as he pulled Nico up to kiss his nose.

“Mmm, no, you’re the only one worthy of worship. You’re all tall and muscular and... hot!” Nico explained then sat up, straddling his boyfriend’s waist and lookin down at him.

“Oh?” Percy asked and Nico nodded pointedly.

“First off, you’re skin. It’s gorgeous, golden, sun kissed, beautiful. It’s clear and you’re pretty. Then your hair, which I love, is all fluffy and black and soft and messy, and you always look like you’ve just rolled out of bed.” Nico explained and Percy was blushing now. Nico ignored him and continued, “And you’re eyes, god! Percy your eyes!” Nico let out a downright dirty groan, “Perseus Jackson, you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They’re literally the color of sea foam, and they just remind me of the beach near my home in Venice.” Nico explained. Percy’s eyes softened and his heart swelled at the happy but mournful smile that spread across Nico’s features.

“Plus, not to mention, you’re built like a Greek god.” Nico joked and reached under Percy’s shirt to grope his boyfriend’s abs. Percy flushed and shoved Nico away to fall back on the bed.

“Well, Ghost King, you’re not much different, you’ve filled out since I first met you,” Nico laughed.

“I hit puberty Blu Bello,” he pointed out, which caused Percy to laugh.

“Well, you’re a hottie now Nico. You completely skipped the awkward phase and went from cute little kid to hot teenager in 6 months. You’ve got beautiful cheekbones that are quite honestly my weakness and you’re skin is so soft, and pretty and pale, and your hair is long enough for me to play with the ends when we kiss and you’re lips are super soft because they’ve never been used by anyone but me which is a great feeling. And you’re short. Which makes me feel good about myself considering we’re surrounded by Giants at this stupid camp.” Nico laughed and shoved Percy again.

“ Rude!” He shouted then pulled Percy down to his level and kissed him, the kiss slowly becoming more heated as time passed. After a while the boys were heavily making out, only to be rudely interrupted by Will Solace.

“Ew!” He shouted and shielded his eyes while Nico reluctantly and resentfully pulled away from his boyfriend to glare over at his bestfriend.

“Can I help you Solace? I’m kinda busy,” he complained. Will huffed and glared back at him while Percy flushed dark red.

“I’m here to swipe your water-bound boyfriend because there are some younger Hephaestus kids who want to go swimming but Beckendorf, Leo, and Jake are all busy and we know that none of the others are gonna leave the forges.” Nico groaned annoyed and fell forward onto Percy’s chest, wrapping his arms and legs around his boyfriend possessively. Percy laughed at his boyfriends antics and sat up, only for Nico to whine helplessly then flip Solace off.

“F**k you Solace, watch the fire brats yourself this is my boyfriend time.” Nico whined, still koala attaching himself to Percy who was sitting up with Nico in his lap, not even attempting to push the gremlin off.

“Whatever Di Angelo, I don’t like getting wet and you know it,” Will countered, earning himself a glare from Nico.

“Fine, if you manage, watch what I do next time I know you and Jake are enjoying your rare time alone together. I’ll march right up and start talking about how incredible Percy is, and you will only be able to focus on Percy while trying to make out with your boyfriend? How’s that gonna feel asshole?” Will sighed in defeat and sent Nico his patented mom look, expecting it to work like normal, but Nico stood his ground defiantly, which Will supposed was fair. Percy really enjoyed watching the kids so he had classes basically all day, this was his two hours without classes, aka when he spent time with Nico. Will shook his head defeated and left Nico’s cabin.

“Neeks,” Percy started to argue only for Nico to turn his glare on him.

“No, absolutely not, this is the only time of day that I get to have you all to myself because all of your friends are also busy and I’m not and you aren’t, I don’t wanna go down to beach and sit a respectable amount of room apart so that you can make sure no over eager kids who can’t wait until one of your life guard hours drown.” Percy sighed in defeat and pulled Nico back down on top of him to continue to kiss him heatedly, instantly brightening the ghost king’s mood. Nico hummed into the kiss and held onto his boyfriend like he was Nico’s lifeline.

After a few minutes, the boys were forced to break, again, when there was a knock at the door. Nico groaned in annoyance but Percy nudged him away to go answer the door. Nico huffed as he pulled away and looked in the mirror to fix his hair and clothes back. The knock came again but louder and Nico groaned again, but quietly and went to answer the door. Outside there was standing a decidedly uninvited demigod that Nico didn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” He asked annoyed and the kid looked slightly intimidated. Typically Nico was reasonably nice to the kids at camp, but when they came knocking at his cabin door while he was obviously trying to be alone it was rather annoying.

“Uh, I was looking for Percy...” the kid muttered and Nico looked at him suspiciously.

“What do you want from him?” He asked quite rudely.

“Um, we wanted to go swimming and we kinda need him in order to do so.” Nico only glared at the probably 12 year old kid and huffed.

“Percy’s on his break right now, we’re in the middle of a board game, wait for another hour and we’ll be done and he’ll be back on his life guard duty.” Nico stated and the kid only swallowed and nodded. Nico returned to a grinning Percy who was waiting for Nico to return. The smaller demigod crawled into his boyfriends lap and began kissing his neck.

“Y’know, you should really be nicer to the younger campers,” Percy reasoned and Nico grunted in annoyance.

“They should really respect that you have to take breaks.” He countered and held onto Percy’s waist possessively as he kissed down to Percy’s collar bone.

“Hate to break it to you Ghost King, but I’m kinda a big deal around here.” Nico huffed in annoyance and leaned back to glare at his boyfriend.

“I am three seconds away from shadow traveling us to my room in the underworld,” Nico declared, causing Percy to snort and lean in to steal a chaste kiss. Which Nico quickly returned, and once again, the making out began.

And, once again, it was interrupted. It had gone on a little longer and to be fair it was more lazy, sleepy kisses, not full on handsy making out, but still, Nico was comfortable and enjoying Percy time.

“Nico Di Angelo I swear I’m gonna set you on fire if you treat my campers like that ever again!” Leo marched up Nico’s stairs loudly and angrily. He was met by a sight he probably could have lived without. Nico Di Angelo curled up on Percy’s chest, peppering kisses over his face.

“Leo Valdez if you enter my cabin and interrupt my Percy time like that ever again I will raise the cesarean army on you, what do you want?” Nico was becoming genuinely angry and at this point, raising the cesarean army didn’t sound like too bad an idea.

“I heard you grilled one of my campers,” Leo said, crossing his arms.

“You’re all fire-proof, it doesn’t matter if I grill any of you, but you’re right, he came here, only minutes after Will requesting to steal my Percy during my Percy time, and during Percy’s well deserved break so give your campers something to do other than swim for another 30 minutes while I enjoy cuddling with my boyfriend,” Nico was glaring daggers into Leo’s eyes who huffed in annoyance but left the cabin hastily.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Percy purred as he pet Nico’s hair.

“You’re so cute when you’re not overworked,” Nico countered turning back to Percy.

“Mm, that’s fair,” he agreed and placed a soft kiss on Nico’s lips.

“I know it is Gattino,” Nico stated fondly and leaned into Percy’s chest to get comfortable. He continue pressing kisses all over Percy’s neck, only for a knock to sound at the door, which Percy nearly laughed at. Nico growled and tightened his hold on Percy, then proceeded to shadow travel them to his room in the underworld. Percy laughed as they hit the silky sheets.

“Nico, we can’t just stay here,” Percy reasoned and Nico shook his head.

“We can, and we will until further notice, you’re resting, I’m kissing, and we’re both trying to enjoy ourselves but people keep interrupting, so this is me, preventing that.” He then summoned Ms. O’ Leary and stationed her at his door to chase any of his family members who may try to invade his room away.

“I love you...” Percy muttered softly and kissed Nico, which Nico smiled at.

“I love you too.” With that he collapsed onto Percy’s chest and continued pressing kisses to Percy’s neck, while letting himself and Percy slowly fall into a slumber.

This time they were awoken by Melinoe, one of Nico’s half sisters.

“Nicolai!” She shouted, causing him to jump out of his sleep.

“It is 11 pm you stupid boys, you two have missed dinner and the bonfire and the Harpies are out.” Nico sighed in defeat and looked down at his sleepy boyfriend, he realised he didn’t really feel guilty, Percy needed sleep, and if taking him to the underworld had brought it, so be it.

“Fine fine, we’ll go, sorry Meli!” Nico exclaimed and grabbed Percy. He quickly shadow travelled them to Nico’s cabin and they both burst out laughing before Percy gasped.

“Did she say 11!?” He asked terrified.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Perce...” Nico mumbled, feeling awful for accidentally pulling Percy from all his responsibilities.

“Well, Neeks, it’s not your fault we fell asleep or that we kept getting interrupted, I don’t blame you, I just wish we would have remembered.” Percy muttered as he pulled Nico up to cuddle him.

“Mm, still sorry, I’ll leave you alone tomorrow,” Nico explained and curled up to Percy.

“You most certainly will not, we’re eating lunch together and you’ll be waiting in your cabin as always tomorrow when I have my break, and we’re gonna cuddle and kiss and enjoy our time, and I’m not gonna drop you to go watch kids swim at the lake. Then I’m gonna go back to my job and then we’re gonna sit down and eat dinner together then watch Disney movies together and then you’ll shadow travel me back to my cabin we’ll go to sleep and repeat the cycle,” Percy was very demanding with his list of the routine the two boys had been retaining for the past few months.

“Okay, sounds good to me,” Nico agreed, snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest.

“Everyone’s gonna be stressed out tomorrow since we weren’t here before lights out,” Percy pointed out and Nico hummed in agreement.

“You wanna go tell Chiron or Annabeth?” Nico asked and Percy hummed.

“We should probably tell Annie, Chiron’s probably with the herd.” He suggested and wrapped his arms around Nico’s shoulders so they could shadow travel. After a few seconds the demigods were in the Athena cabin next to Annabeth’s bunk.

“Annie?” Percy asked as he knelt down next to her. She stirred slightly, and her brows furrowed before her eyes slowly fluttered open. She immediately sat up and wrapped her arms around Percy’s neck in a desperate hug.

“You’re not allowed to just disappear!” She whisper-shouted as she shoved him away and pointed at Nico.

“And you aren’t either! Will was so stressed!” She was still whisper-shouting and Nico’s ears heated up in embarrassment.

“I- we didn’t mean to, I got angry because we kept on getting interrupted so the fourth time someone came knocking on my cabin door, I just got fed up and brought us to the Underworld, then we fell asleep and Melinoe woke us up at 11 and I’m sorry!” Nico was apologizing a lot. He cared about Annabeth and Grover’s opinions the most, those were Percy’s oldest and best friends, and he didn’t want them to hate him.

“It’s fine Nico, really, I understand wanting alone time, you just had all of us a bit spooked, and when Hazel found out from Leo that you were missing too she got really stressed out so Leo’s at Camp Jupiter with her and Frank and you should go let her know.

“Yeah, okay, Perce you coming with me? I feel like we’ll need to calm Leo’s nerves too.”Percy nodded hastily and took Nico’s hand, quickly leaving a peck on Annabeth’s forehead before Nico shadow travelled them to Camp Jupiter.

They landed in the living room of Jason And Reyna, and Hazel and Frank’s shared home. Percy placed a chaste kiss on Nico’s lips then started pulling him back towards Hazel and Frank’s room.

They let themselves in to find Hazel and Frank snuggling with Leo nestled between them. Nico approached the bed and lightly awoke Hazel.

“Haze?” He asked softly as she began to stir. She slowly rolled over, her eyes half lidded, before they brightened at the sight of Nico.

“Nico!” She jumped up to embrace him, also stirring Leo and Frank. Leo immediately also jumped up to hug Percy tightly. Frank just rose slowly to look at his lovers adoringly. Nico enjoyed pretending to be protective of Hazel, but her boyfriends were both so good there was really no reason to try and be protective. He trusted them.

“Don’t go disappearing like that!” Hazel exclaimed and swatted Nico’s chest.

“I’m sorry! We fell asleep at the palace!” Hazel narrowed her eyes.

“What were you doing in the underworld in the first place?” She asked annoyed. Nico huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, if we hadn’t been rudely interrupted by Will, then some random Hephaestus kid, then Leo, then someone else, I wouldn’t have been annoyed enough to even leave camp, but if I’m trying to enjoy my time with Percy, I want to do it without interruption so whatever!” Percy laughed because Nico was already very defensive of the subject.

“So that’s why Beckendorf couldn’t get to you guys!” Leo exclaimed and Nico rolled his eyes.

“Yes Leo, THATS why Beckendorf couldn’t get to me, because I was trying to enjoy my cherished time with Percy the same way you guys try to enjoy your time with eachother,” Leo looked down guiltily. Hazel was able to summon a Hell Hound whenever she wanted, so she could come see Leo whenever she wanted, on top of that, they were all out to the camp as Poly and in a relationship. But Percy and Nico were only out to their closest friends so it wasn’t like Nico could just go up to Percy and kiss him between their shifts or duties, they had to plan time to be together.

“Sorry...” Leo muttered and Nico huffed.

“Don’t apologize, guilt doesn’t look good on you, and I don’t really particularly mind because that was the least stressful I’ve woken up before, so hush,” Nico was being very persistent about no one feeling bad and then he was reminded that Will was one of his bestfriends, a total mother hen, and was probably worried sick. Nico groaned and fell back onto the couch in the trio’s room.

“Neeks?” Percy asked as he watched his boyfriend collapse.

“Will’s probably at Camp Halfblood having a fucking panic attack because I disappeared!” He sighed, then looked lovingly at Percy, then glanced at the others and slowly stood.

“What’s up Nico?” Hazel asked as he came and sat down again.

“You guys are all so good! Gods! Why can’t you just hate me for being annoying! For avoiding you! For grilling you! Why can’t you just resent me! If everyone hated me, peopling would be some much less stressful!” Percy laughed and scooped Nico up off the bed and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Neeks, that’s what friends are all about, being worried when you aren’t where you’re supposed to be, because we love you,” Percy nuzzled Nico’s hair and the shorter demigod only huffed.

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Leo pointed out from where he was laying against Frank with the larger man’s arms around his waist. Nico rolled his eyes and glared at the son of Hephaestus.

“Oh yeah, any chance I get,” Percy confirmed easily, which made Hazel laugh then look at her brother.

“You can go,” she said, then grabbed Nico’s hand, “check in with Will, make sure the poor boy isn’t having a panic attack, then I cannot let you do anything further, you must go to sleep, no matter how good you’ve gotten at shadow traveling, doing so at great distances is not good for your health, and you will immediately shadow travel back to your own cabin, with Percy, and sleep.” Hazel was very serious about Nico’s health, maybe not as much as Will, but still serious.

“Okay, I’ve got it, love you Haze,” He hugged his sister, let Percy hug Leo, then waved them all goodbye and they were off. After a bit, they landed in Will’s cabin and once they were both stable, Nico gave up and just leaned into Percy, Hazel was right, shadow traveling between realms and across countries was really draining. Percy rubbed his back comfortingly and turned to Will’s bed, only to find it empty. He sighed and looked at Nico, who staring seriously at the bed. He sighed as well, and hugged Percy around the middle to travel the couple of meters to the Hephaestus Cabin, where no doubt Will would be.

Which of course, they were right, Will was sleeping with Jake in the Hephaestus kid’s bed, curled up to his boyfriend happily. Nico laughed at his friend but still leaned into Percy, feeling absolutely drained to the max.

“Will?” Nico whispered softly, slowly stirring Will from his sleep.

“Nico!” Will whisper shouted as he pulled the son of Hades away from his boyfriend and into a hug.

“Why do you look so tired? Have you two been fighting monsters?” Will sat up fully and pushed Nico down next to him.

“No Will!” Nico shoved Will’s worrying hands away and leaned toward Percy.

“Nico’s been shadow traveling a lot...” Percy explained and Will’s eyes narrowed.

“Really Coco?” He asked and Nico glared angrily at the stupid nickname.

“Will, really, I’m fine, I’m just tired,” he sighed loudly and made grabby hands at Percy. As much as being small sucked, having a tall boyfriend meant that he could be easily lifted up.

“Nico got a bit annoyed after four interruptions and shadow travelled us to his room in the underworld,” Percy was rubbing Nico’s back lovingly, “then we came back and I panicked and he brought us to Annie, only for her to recommend we went to see Hazel, and we did and Nico realised you’d be worried sick so we came back then you weren’t in your cabin and now we’re here.” Percy kissed the top of Nico’s head and the son of Hades sighed dreamily, leaning into his boyfriends touch like it was a life line. Will let his gaze soften at his bestfriends happiness. Nico deserves what he wanted, and Percy had been what he wanted for years.

“Well, I, as the head doctor, prescribe a good nights rest, and a full day of Percy cuddles. I’ll make up an excuse for you two, and I’ll let the others know, just stay in tomorrow, cuddle up, watch some movies, love you Neeks,” Will kisses Nico’s forehead and pushed him all the way into Percy who laughed.

“How about we get Mrs. O’Leary?” He asked and Nico nodded wildly quickly summoning the Hell Hound then giving Will a kiss on the cheek good bye and rushing out of there as fast as he could. Mrs. O’Leary brought them to Nico’s cabin Percy easily carried Nico to the half-Hades’ bed. They collapsed into it and Percy curled around Nico while Mrs. O’Leary climbed up and curled around the both of them.

——————————————————————————

Nico awoke feeling completely recharged at around noon the next day, Percy was gone, but Mrs. O’Leary was still curled around Nico, and he sighed in bliss.

“Percy?” He called, and was answered by his cabin door opening. He sat up against Mrs. O’Leary subconciously leaning into her and also covering her.

“Coco?” He heard Will call and Nico let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. In walked Will with a tray of what looked like blue cookies and a glass of pomegranate juice. Of course, his favorite juice and something personally made by Percy.

“Hey Will-I-Am,” Nico greeted, then yawned, “where’s my Sea Prince?” He asked after a few seconds and Will laughed while he set down the tray on Nico’s bedside table.

“He’s at his mom’s house, says he’s got a surprise for you there, but he should be back soon, don’t worry,” Will explained as he handed Nico the plate of cookies and the glass. Then he picked up the rag and dunked it in what looked like cold water then set it to the side. Nico looked at him wearily as he ate his cookies. Will tended to be a little overbearing luv caring at times, like acting as if exhaustion was a fever.

“Will!” Nico whined as Will pulled a thermometer out of his pocket.

“Nicolai!” Will swatted at Nico’s hands and stuffed the thermometer in his mouth.

“You will sit here and accept my mother henning because you hopped twice between realms and twice across the country and you will now accept my making sure you’re okay because exhaustion can result in fevers and sickness.” Nico sighed and laid back, letting Will dab his forehead with the wet cloth then when the thermometer beeped he pulled it out of Nico’s mouth and set it to the side.

“You’re temperature is normal,” he stated then under his breath, “for a child of Hades,” then back to normal volume, “and you may continue as I planned with a day of cuddles and relaxation. I said that you two got into a mess with Melinoe and Makaria, so you had to go to the underworld and now you’re both allowed to rest for the day,” Nico smiled at his friend as Will leaned in to press a kiss to Nico’s forehead.

“Thanks Will,” Nico said regrettably.

“Aw, any time Neeks, I love you, you’re my best friend, it’s what you deserve,” then Will stood and left while Nico fell back into his Hell Hound and turned to bury his face in her fur. He let her warmth consume him and brighten his mood even further as he slowly finished his cookies and pomegranate juice.

“Nico?” Percy called and Mrs. O’Leary lifted her head in excitement, jostling Nico.

“I’m here Percy!” Nico called back and as Percy emerged from the stairs Nico saw a broad smile on his lips.

“Okay, sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, I have you something,” Percy held up a bag that Nico recognized from that time Annabeth and Katie had forced them to take one of the Arts and Crafts classes and they made bags with eachother. They actually enjoyed seeing and had made a few more bags together since, but this one was the first they’d made together. It was a view of the ocean against an extremely starry sky.

Nico was pulled from his thought by the smell of distinctive Italian food. His mother’s. Tears sprang to his eyes as he looked lovingly at Percy.

“Nico!?” Percy called concerned as he rushed to the bed faster, dropping the bag on the night stand and landed on the bed pulling Nico into a tight hug.

“You are the most amazing incredible awful human being I’ve ever met,” He muttered while laugh-crying into Percy’s chest. That caused Percy to let out a relieved huff of a laugh.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you perfect boyfriend went all the way to your mom’s apartment so you could make my mom’s lasagna recipe with her.” Percy’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly.

“Of course Neeks, you were so tired last night I thought you deserved a treat, and you talk about your mom and grandma’s cooking so often I thought...” Nico knocked the air out of Percy as he tackled him into the bed and hugged him tightly while pressing a kiss to his lips. He felt Percy smile into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Nico’s waist

“You, Perseus Jackson, are the best thing that has ever walked into my life.” He muttered against Percy’s lips causing a bright blush to rush to Percy’s cheeks.

“You, Nico Di Angelo, deserve the best,” he answered. And Nico smiled as he sat up, straddling Percy’s waist. He grabbed the bag of food and pulled it into his lap as Percy sat up as well, keeping Nico on his lap. Nico pulled out four tupperwares and a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. He smiled at the bottle then looked at Percy with an amusing smirk.

“We better be careful, if Mr. D find outs we have a bottle of “non-alcoholic wine” he’ll throw a hissy fit.” He joked and Percy smiled, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Well, it’s a good thing people have decided to leave us alone then.” He agreed and settled to pour them both a glass of juice.

#nico di angelo #percy jackson #percico #PJO #nicercy

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