#and yes we ate lunch outside almost without exception

[emma-commonlanguages]

On my own in Nepal: 06.01-06.02

Dhundup took a while to emerge from the shower, but I saw him briefly at breakfast the next morning, before he left for school. I wondered if it would be awkward, but it was like any other morning, perhaps with an extra ocular glint. I lingered around the house in the morning. These were some of the hardest moments for me—the lingering, the in-betweens, waiting to go—feeling like I couldn’t go where I wanted to go on my own, though I probably could. Sometimes I found myself waiting for Dhundup to wake up or come home. These were my least favorite because they made me feel ashamed, waiting for a man. I wanted to be busy with my travels.

I was due to go to Patan that afternoon, where I’d booked a chic apartment in an old Newari building to stay for the next two nights. At lunch before I left, Dawa and Hiumaya told me to be safe, as a white woman on my own.

“You are very pretty,” Dawa told me in that daunting way my father repeatedly had before I left. Over the last few weeks I’d come into a new relationship with beauty and the bits of it I’d received, warned of its dupes and misgivings, without ever feeling sorry for myself.

“Would it be alright to return to my hotel from dinner in the dark… around 7, 8pm?” I asked.

“Yes, of course,” Dawa said.

He told me a story about a Scandinavian girl who stayed with them and came home from Thamel one night with a man who Dawa knew to be a gangster. Dawa warned her, but she didn’t have ears for it. She left to stay with him and days later when caught alone with him and 7 other men, she ran for the nearest hospital, fearing for her life. The hospital called Dawa, her one contact in Nepal.

We concluded a series of bad decisions led the Scandinavian girl to this situation.

“Don’t be afraid, just be aware,” Dawa said.

The conversation—almost an exact replica of the one I had with my own parents before leaving the States, except wiser—made me feel caught in the embrace of the closest thing to kin we can choose for ourselves 8,000 miles from the family I’d been born into.

Before I’d left for Nepal a friend had jokingly referred to Patan as ‘the Brooklyn of Kathmandu,’ and driving in I thought this must be Kathmandu’s own flavor of hip, edging antique and modern. I checked into the apartment I’d booked and relished in all the space I had to myself—dark wood and terracotta floors, local made rattan and reclaimed wood furniture, kilim rugs, and moderately tasteful throw pillows, a full kitchen I wouldn’t use, and a laundry machine I would.

I ate in the cafe at, I think what must be, the fanciest hotel in Patan. The chicken momos they served me were raw and the diarrhea I already had, continued. Ever since I started eating outside Hiumaya’s homegrown, organic, vegetarian kitchen, my stomachs been in knots, and I’ll forever associate the streets of Patan with a slow., guttural spin cycle.

The following day I wandered into the Durbar (Main) Square of Patan, visiting the museum, where I was most fascinated by the exhibits on Hindu Tantrism.

Lying dormant at the lowermost chakra is Kundalini Shakti, ‘coiled-up female energy,’ often represented as a serpent… By arousing and elevating her through the chakras to unite with Shiva, the tantric adept transcends his or her own ego and merges with cosmic consciousness… For most of humanity she will lie there, dormant and unknown. Only the skilled adept will arouse and control her.

I am not naive to the ways in which new-age tranrism has run awry, but I am suspicious of the ways in which religion has suppressed sensuality, the opportunity to release the divine within us. This unleashing seems to me like the frontier deepened spirituality.

From there, I roamed the alleyways, popping into artisan shops, stocking hammered copper and brass butter lamps, singing bowls, jewels, and linens, stopping at a kiosk for tea. I ate ramen for dinner at a far better Japanese restaurant that evening. The rest of my time in Patan was spent like this, enjoying my independence to roam.

[fruitcoops]

for the jules stay with coops, would you be able to do something where jules kinda just messes around on the ice with a stick n puck n the team just kinda watch in adoration? 🤧

This is the final installment of Adventures in Babysitting! Thank you to everyone who stayed interested in this idea, which is the longest series I’ve ever written for SW fanfic (about 15k words total! Wow!). This is my favorite part so far, I think. Hope you enjoy!

Intro 1 2 3 4

Credit for Sweater Weather/ Jules goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I watch again today?” Jules begged, tugging on the strap of Remus’ duffel bag as they walked to the car. “Please? Please please please please—”

“Yes, you can watch,” Remus groaned, hefting their gear into the trunk. It seemed extra heavy today. “Though keep asking like that and I’m going to say no.”

“The plane doesn’t leave until six thirty, so we’ll be able to hang out with the guys after practice, right?”

“Well, yeah, but we should be at the airport by five just in case,” Remus said. “And it’s an open practice, so the media will want to ask some questions afterward. You can probably hang out with them between interviews, though.”

Jules bit his lip. “Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.” He watched Jules buckle in through the rearview mirror while Sirius turned the car on. Most of the snow had melted the previous day, leaving a clear and crisp morning that Remus could feel through the windows as they drove to the rink; he felt a little bad for everyone who wouldn’t be moving around to keep warm for the next few hours.

Moody wasn’t by the door when they arrived, nor was he in the PT room. Remus checked the clock quickly and frowned—they didn’t have a lot of time to spare before they needed to get ready to go. “Coach!” Sirius called, waving down the hallway.

Arthur looked up at them and smiled. “There you are! Got your skates, Lupin?”

Remus blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

“Not you. Little Loops, did you bring your skates?”

Jules and Remus turned to Sirius at the same time and he hid a smile behind his hand. “Got ‘em right here, Coach,” he said without looking at them, holding his bag up.

“What?” Jules whispered and turned to Remus, who shrugged. “What’s he talking about?”

“You’re number…24?” Arthur squinted at his clipboard and walked closer to them. Jules nodded silently. “Alright, I think we can figure something out. You play center, right?”

Jules squeaked out a ‘yes’; Remus could feel him trembling with excitement. “I get to play?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and bent slightly to his level. “Your brother never stops talking about how you’re the best center Wisconsin has ever seen. I wanna know if it’s true.”

“Sirius, what did you do?” Remus murmured as Jules struggled to take a deep breath.

“I may have possibly told Coach it was his last day here. Perhaps,” Sirius whispered back.

Remus shook his head. “You are the most incredible person on the planet and I’m going to kiss the daylights out of you as soon as humanly possible.”

“Love you, too.”

“Re.” Jules yanked on his arm as he jumped up and down, ramping up with every passing second. “Re, I get to skate with the team! I get to skate! With the team!”

“Looks like it,” Remus laughed. “Come on, practice starts in twenty.”

Not only had Sirius packed Jules’ skates, but somehow he had snuck all his gear into their duffels without either of them noticing; all the guys brightened when they walked into the locker room and Kasey waved to him from his stall. “Hey, Little L—”

“I get to skate!” Jules blurted as he gripped Remus’ hand hard enough to hurt.

James shared a look with Sirius—so you were in on it, too, Remus thought as he led Jules to his stall. “That’s pretty exciting,” he said with a low whistle. “How’d you swing that?”

“Coach Weasley wants to see me play.” If Jules made it through the next three hours without fainting from happiness, Remus would be shocked.

“You must be pretty good, then.” Leo grinned as he buckled into his pads. “Think you can score a goal on me?”

Jules hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“That’s the spirit,” Finn laughed, ruffling Jules’ hair. “You got a jersey yet?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. What’s your number?”

“24.”

“Yo, Ringer, you got an extra?” Evander Bell dug around for a moment before tossing him a clean jersey. Finn grabbed some stick tape out of his bag and tore two pieces off; when he shook it back out, a decent ‘24’ had replaced the previous ‘21’. “There you go. You might have to tuck it in a bit.”

Jules threw his arms around Finn’s waist and squeezed him tight, mumbling ‘thank you’ over and over again. Finn rubbed his back and looked up at Remus with pleading eyes—can I keep him? he mouthed, pouting when Remus shook his head. Logan and Leo ‘aww’ed in the background.

“Okay, bud, let’s get your pads on so you can enjoy your last day here.” He put a slight emphasis on the final three words and the rest of the team perked up, trading glances between their stalls as Jules hurried to change into his gear.

Thankfully, he already knew what to do, and within ten minutes all three of them were on the ice. Several fans pointed to Jules and waved; he seemed surprised by the attention and shyly smiled back. Coach’s whistle snapped them all to attention and Remus laid a hand on Jules’ helmet to keep him close, just in case. “Cap, you know our drills for today. We start our scrimmage at 12:30 and you get twenty minutes for a lunch break.”

“Yes, Coach,” they chorused. Jules’ answer was a little delayed and Remus caught several half-hidden smiles beneath visors.

“Over here, 24,” Logan said, guiding Jules to the starting line with his stick on his back. “You wanna be on my team?”

“I want dibs!” Talker called as he skated past. “Jules, who’s your favorite? Me, or Shortie Pants over there?”

“Uhhhh…” Jules looked quickly to Remus. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Sucks to be you guys, but he’s on my team.” Sirius held his hand out for a fist bump that Jules happily obliged. “Right, buddy?”

“Totally.”

“Hell yeah.”

The drills were far easier than usual, even for an open practice, which gave everyone a chance to show off. They went through the motions, adding little flourishes here and there that the slowly-gathering crowd ate up; even Jules started having fun with it, tapping pucks back and forth with Pots between rounds and shooting goal after goal toward Kasey and Leo. He shone with joy.

When the lunch whistle blew, Remus tapped the back of his helmet lightly. “Remember that trick I did to knock Harzy over?” he asked under his breath. Jules grinned. “Want me to show you how to do it?”

“Duh.”

“Alright, c’mere.” Remus skated over to the far end of the rink, keeping an eye out until Finn was safely out of sight. “Plant your leg like this, yeah?”

Jules frowned, but did as he was told. “I thought you went right.”

“I did. You have to fake him out with the left. He falls for it every time.”

“Really?”

“Dollars to donuts. Give it a shot.” Jules wobbled a little. “Keep your balance steady…there you go!”

“Cool!” he whispered, looking up with a bright smile. Remus leaned down so they could knock their helmets together. “Cool.”

“Okay, time for lunch. You can try it out in the scrimmage.”

Jules practiced the motions all the way back to the bench, muttering instructions under his breath as Remus kept him from knocking anyone over on accident. He scarfed down a sandwich and downed a few gulps of Gatorade, which Sirius confiscated in case he drank it too fast and made himself sick.

“We’ve got a game to win, buddy,” he said. “Take it slow.”

“Scrimmage list is up!” Coach called from the doorway, tacking a sheet of paper to the wall. Everyone immediately crowded it; Remus shouldered his way through Kasey and Logan to get a good look.

He laughed out loud when he saw it. “Jules, you better square up!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Am I playing against you?”

“Yep. You’re up against Sirius for the face-off.”

Jules’ eyes got huge in his head. “No.”

“See for yourself, buddy.”

“Does that mean we’re on the same team for once?” Sirius murmured as he leaned against the side of Remus’ stall.

“Looks like it.” He tilted his chin up for a quick kiss and Sirius tugged the edge of his shoulder pad lightly.

“Love seeing you in these.” He tapped the wooden shelf above them and grinned before straightening. “Alright, boys, let’s go!”

It almost felt like family skate again, except for the overarching vibe of genuine competitive spirit that spread through the team. Jules and Sirius skated to the center and braced for the drop; Jules dug his blades in, and not for the first time Remus was struck by how much they looked alike.

Sirius tapped the front of his skate, but Jules didn’t flinch from his laser-focus on Dumo. “He’s got his head in the game, Cap,” Dumo said with a grin. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The puck dropped. In a flash of movement, both lunged for it; Sirius won, but Jules was hot on his heels as he skated toward the opposite goal, his face lined with pure determination. “Twelve!” Remus called, tapping his stick against the ice.

Sirius passed it, but Jules didn’t falter from his tail, moving to shadow his every moment. Remus passed James easily, but Talker stole the puck and turned it around for a quick move toward Leo, who dropped into a lunge and blocked his shot. The pace picked up after that and Remus heard the telltale click of press cameras going off along with the whoops of fans who had come to watch.

And then Jules started tailing him, the little shit. Remus did a lazy loop around the outside, then darted in to shake him—Jules reappeared moments later, a bit out of breath but otherwise fine. Remus took the puck out from underneath Logan and raced for the goal as a beautiful line opened up for him, but he heard the familiar shush-hush of Jules’ skates and braked hard.

He should have known it wouldn’t work. Jules dodged sideways at the last second, just barely missing the puck with his stick, then spun back around and chased Remus in a sharp curve through the defense. He heard several people start laughing as he lowered his center of gravity and took a hard turn; the chill of the ice burned his cheeks, but Jules didn’t leave him alone.

“Come on, Little Loops,” he taunted, grinning over his shoulder. “Come and get it!”

Jules grumbled something under his breath and pushed off harder, skating right at Remus with single-minded intensity. He saw his left foot lift and internally shook his head.

With a couple quick taps, he was behind him again. “You can’t use my own tricks against me!”

“I can try!” Jules shouted back as they flew up the ice once more. Kasey caught his shot. “Nice one, Loops.”

“Better luck next time, eh?” Remus knocked on his helmet as he skated past, still panting. Arthur was laughing so hard he had to lean against the glass while Moody patted him on the back and winked at Remus.

“Eight more years,” Moody called with a grin. “Then we’ll have two Lupins out here.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Remus laughed.

They stayed on the ice for a while after the scrimmage ended, losing 2-1 to Sirius’ team. Jules shadowed anyone he came within five feet of and was harder to shake off than a piece of duct tape—Remus had never been prouder.

“Harzy! Harzy, I gotta show you something!” Jules waved to Finn, who looked over in amusement from Leo’s goal. “Skate toward me like we’re in a game.”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Jules kept his eyes on Finn’s feet as they grew closer, mouthing something under his breath. No, Remus thought. Is he going to…?

He did. In one perfect motion, he picked up his left skate and pushed hard in the other direction, zipping beneath Finn’s arm and sending him in the other direction. “No!” Finn shouted immediately as Jules burst into maniacal giggles. “Absolutely not! Remus Lupin, get your ass over here!”

“That was perfect!” Remus held his hands out for a double high-five and Jules jumped to reach his palms. “Excellent form.”

Shaved ice coated them both as Finn snowed them, still scowling. “I can’t believe you!”

“Have you tried saying ‘no’ to the puppy eyes?” Remus asked, turning Jules by the shoulders and sticking his own lower lip out.

Finn scoffed, but he could hardly hide his smile. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Indeed.” He squeezed Jules’ arms briefly. “It’s about time to head out, J. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone while I check in with Marlene?”

The unbridled excitement on Jules’ face dimmed a bit. “Do I have to go?”

“You’ve got school in a couple days.”

“I could stay until it starts again.”

“Mom and Dad miss you a lot.”

“Remus!” Marlene flagged him down from the boards and he skated over with Jules in tow, pulling his helmet off and swiping sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s up?”

Before she could speak, a skinny man with large glasses pushed to the front of the group; Remus disliked him instantly. “Mr. Lupin, can you tell us—”

“Excuse you, I think she was trying to talk,” he interrupted, giving the man a stony look. “Hey, Marley, how’re you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. This is Craig Stearns, from the Hockey Daily…magazine.” Her smile was slightly forced. Tabloid. “He has a couple questions for you.”

“Hi, Craig.”

“When were you going to tell the media about your secret child?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

Craig’s eyes flickered down to Jules, whose grip tightened on the hem of Remus’ jersey. “Your son.”

“You mean my little brother?”

“You’ve been seen with him an awful lot this week—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and he appears to be living in your house—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and several photos show you walking hand-in-hand—”

“Do you have siblings?” Remus cut in. “I’m going to assume you don’t. My parents visited for the holidays, during which time there was a death in the family and Jules stayed with Sirius and I for the week. He was living in our house because I’m not about to put my ten-year-old brother in a hotel, and I was holding his hand so that he didn’t run into the street. Are we done here?”

Craig paused. “Can we get a picture—”

“No.”

Jules tapped his elbow and Remus bent down. “Can we go home?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, buddy, we can go home.” Remus gave him a gentle nudge toward the boards. “Go find Sirius, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus watched him skate across the ice until Leo caught him and swung him into the air before turning back to Craig with the coldest glare he could muster. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me, but keep my little brother out of your fucking gossip column. He’s ten. I better not see his face on some tabloid, got it?”

“Crystal clear,” Craig said with a harsh gulp.

“Good.” Remus looked over to Marlene and smiled, giving her a fist bump. “See you tomorrow, Marley. Say hi to D for me.”

“Will do.”

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

After endless hugs and a standing offer to play from Coach, they finally made it to the car just before four pm. They practically had to crowbar Jules and Moody apart—Remus was half-expecting the grouchy old man to run out after their car waving adoption papers, and letting Kuny figure out Jules was ticklish may have been the worst mistake of Remus’ life.

It was cute, though, seeing the puppylike love on his teammates’ faces whenever Jules entered the room. Jules clearly had a good time; he passed out cold in the backseat within two minutes of leaving the parking lot, still damp from his shower.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to give him back yet?” Remus asked.

“I was just about to say that,” Sirius laughed, glancing into the rearview mirror. “We could tell your parents the flight was cancelled.”

“They miss him.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sure they do.”

“I still don’t want to put him on a plane alone.”

“He’ll be safe.”

“One of us could fly with him…?” Remus shook his head. “Never mind, he’d think we were treating him like a kid. Ugh. I already miss him.”

“We’ve still got an hour or so to pack.” They turned into the driveway and Sirius parked, but neither of them moved to get out. “This was really, really fun. I’m glad we did it.”

“Me, too.” Remus sighed and twisted around to shake Jules’ knee. “Jules, we’re home. You can sleep on the plane, okay?”

Jules took a deep breath and blinked awake, scrunching his nose up. “I don’t wanna pack.”

“I’m not doing it for you, so you better get a wiggle on unless you want to go home in just your underwear.” Jules was out of the car in a flash and both of them dissolved into laughter. “Oh, fuck, I didn’t think that would work.”

“Come on, he’s about to break the door down.” Sirius snorted and got their bags out of the trunk, then tossed Jules his keys. “It’s the one in the middle, buddy.”

“The blue one?”

“No.”

“The yellow one?”

“Are either of those in the middle?”

“…is it the silver one?”

“There you go.”

Jules got it open after a moment of maneuvering and they tumbled inside in a heap of hockey gear, locking the door against the cold wind that was starting to blow. Packing wasn’t difficult—Remus had put Jules’ laundry into the dryer the previous night and threw it into his backpack as Jules collected his books and leftover socks.

They were in the car by five; Remus was a little nervous about getting to the airport on time, but traffic was light and they arrived with more than an hour to spare. Check-in was easy, they made it through security without any issues, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the gate.

“You have everything, right?” he asked for the thousandth time as Jules rocked on the balls of his feet. “Books, clothes, everything you brought?”

“I’m fine, Re,” he said.

“You’re not hungry?”

“I had a sandwich before we left, remember?”

“It’s a four-hour flight.”

“I’ll be okay.” Jules looked up at him and smiled. “I’m ten, remember?”

I know, that’s why I’m worried. “Boarding for first-class passengers and unaccompanied minors,” a smooth voice called over the intercom. Remus’ heart leapt and he saw Sirius stiffen slightly.

“That’s you, bud,” he said around the lump in his throat, crouching to give him a proper hug. He buried his face in the side of Jules’ neck and gave him a tight squeeze. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Jules mumbled. Remus let go after a moment and Jules moved to Sirius. “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, buddy.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“Say hi to mom and dad for me, yeah?” Remus added as Jules walked over to a stewardess in a blue dress.

“I love you!” he called again. Just before they reached the gate, he stopped in his tracks. “Wait!”

“What?” Remus’ stomach dropped to his feet as Jules shrugged his backpack off and ran back to them, flinging himself into Sirius’ arms.

“I didn’t think of a nickname for you!”

“That’s okay,” Sirius assured him. “I don’t need one.”

“Nicknames are for people we care about, and I care about you,” Jules insisted. He narrowed his eyes in thought before breaking into a wide grin. “Siri.”

“Like the phone app?”

“Exactly. Might need some workshopping, though.”

“Go catch your plane,” Sirius laughed, setting him down after a final hug. Jules ran back to the stewardess, who gave them a quick smile while she helped him get his backpack on again. They stayed in their spot, hand-in-hand, until the plane was nothing but a speck among the clouds and their feet started to ache.

“They’ll come visit soon, right?” Remus leaned his head against Sirius’ shoulder as they headed for the exit.

“They will.”

“How much do you want to bet Jules left at least three things behind?”

“He probably left half his clothes under the bed, but there are so many other things we’re going to be doing tonight that don’t include tracking down a kid’s lost sock.”

“Oh, really?” Remus raised an eyebrow at him and kissed his knuckles. “I like the way you think.”

“We already earned our Oreos, mon loup. I think we deserve a reward for surviving three weeks of constant family time.”

[helenazbmrskai]

It’s all timing - pjm

– If you’re searching for a light and fluffy read well, this won’t be your cup of tea so continue with caution darlings! –

Title – It’s all timing

Pairing – cold husband! Jimin x clocksmith! OC

Genre – fantasy, romance, extreme amount of angst, time travel, smut, marriage, established relationship, Ceo, exes to lovers

Summary – I learnt the hard way that marriage can change a person. I would have never thought that an old watch will let me have a glimpse of my ex-husband’s world but don’t be mistaken I’m not here to fix things. I’m here to change it.

Warning(s) – Jimin is not a loveable character here (until way way later), cheating, mentions of emotional abuse and manipulation, falling in and out of love, the past and present clash a lot, different timelines that may be confusing, this is going to be a wild ride girls and boys, themes of depression and sadness, feeling of worthlessness, and self-image distortion, numbness, discussion of not wanting to have children. Unedited.

Word Count – (5.2k)

[21st March 2021]

Things between us were not always complicated. Our friendship was always exceptional even when friends fought and sought different ways after freshman year at the local Community College, Jimin and I were glued to each other’s side and maybe that’s why no one was surprised as we announced our plans to get married after we graduated.

The new world that greeted us after we finished high school only seemed meaningful because I had Jimin by my side. At that time I had no idea I’ll fall for him this hard, he literally became the extension of myself, my arms and limbs and the lungs that kept me alive. He was my first serious boyfriend even though I dated a few guys here and there before him but none of those relationships seemed to work out either because of me or the guy. Jimin is someone who could easily have his ways with words so when he decided to show interest in me as in more than friends, it was inevitable that I would give in. He was a wonderful lover in the beginning. Passionate and loving, we had many movie nights that ended up with his hands down my pants as his thick fingers rubbed my clit. He bought me flowers and comforted me when I had a bad day.

His cunning smile could get him out of a lot of trouble. Maybe that’s why I never saw the other side of him that sometimes peeked through his carefully crafted mask. I decided to ignore all the red flags until I found myself in a loveless marriage with a man that I couldn’t recognise anymore. Once I realised what had happened it was already too late.

 [12nd November 2018]

Jimin hated the fact that I was a heavy sleeper. He even threatened me once that he’ll sleep in the guest room if he had to wake up one more time to my alarm relentlessly ringing while I showed no signs of waking up any time soon.

My workspace was on the other side of town. The rent was cheap so it was worth the extra miles and the full tank of gas in my car but because of it I had to wake up extra early so I could finish showering then I would go to the kitchen to make lunch for Jimin to take with him to work and still have enough time to get ready with a freshly brewed coffee in one hand and toast in the other. Even after our first year in marriage passed by like a flash, Jimin continued to be his affectionate self, he showered me with kisses and felt needy for my touch.

It was one of our best years together. Jimin started to get more involved with his father’s company and my workshop began to gain more popularity to my greatest surprise. While I was working on an old clock that was brought into my shop by an old married couple a few hours ago my focus kept wandering back to this morning. Smiling under my nose as I thought back to why I was late to open up my little workshop this particular morning.

Jimin likes to be spontaneous he always calls me a bore when I hesitate to try out new things but this time he did not have to do much convincing before I agreed. It was weirdly satisfying to wake up to Jimin’s head buried between the juncture of my thighs, shaking and aroused even though I couldn’t feel or hear him do all those sinful things to me while I was asleep. I didn’t feel him take off my panties or lift the covers to expose my bare centre to his hungry eyes and when our gazes met he proudly told me how well I took his fingers even while I was unconscious.

Experimenting was not something I was willing to do before Jimin showed me the appeal of trying out new things. With him by my side, I felt invincible like I could conquer the world if he stays next to me holding my hand tight.

We outlived all expectations. They said high school sweethearts don’t last, well, we did.  Even though both of our parents were against the idea of us marrying each other so young we ended up doing just that. Jimin proposed after we got our diploma and I said yes. We lived together as roommates throughout all those years we spent together studying and we moved in together after both of us got our first jobs as postgrads.

I was happy it felt like we were at the top of the world but if I had known that after that year everything will go downhill I would have tried to be happier.

 [24th December 2019]

Do you know what are the telltales of cheaters? Well, it starts with subtle changes in his behaviour, you begin to see him less he makes up excuses of having too much work to do or stress so that he could avoid your advances.

He tries to make it up to you with expensive gifts but they mean nothing after the tenth impersonal present because all you would ever want is his attention and love instead of those pathetic attempts of showing their devotion with empty words. The last and most important one on the list is the new anonymous contact on his phone that shows several phone calls and text messages back and forth for hours.

Jimin did all of those.

He stopped experimenting with me. He would fuck me from behind even when I told him I want to see his face. No foreplay, no more cute nose kisses and breathless laughs between the acts of lust and playful wandering fingers.

He no longer cared if I finished first or not at all because after he was done it meant it was over. Jimin took a shower and crawled into bed facing away from me now that this task was taken care of. After the fifth time that he left me hanging, I gathered all the courage that’s left in me to stop his hands from dipping under my pants. I felt disgusted and used he made me think I’m a mere fucktoy that he can discard once it lost its appeal.

I had one of the worst days at work. The clock I was working on was missing a crucial part that I could only import from abroad and the man who wanted it fixed told me to don’t bother because he can’t afford such an expensive repair. It was not something that I could control, the clock was antique for fucks sake. He left without paying for my services even though I told him it was not the only part that I needed to change.

On my way home, a drunk man almost crashed into me with his Sedan and it left me a little shaken up, it was justified to feel the way I was and when Jimin tried to make a move on me by groping my breasts without asking permission first I just snapped.

Not one to back up he snapped right back and it led to one of our ugliest fights. I couldn’t believe the words he so carelessly let out from between those poisonous lips. We had quarrels before every couple has that, it’s normal to disagree to some extents but he went too far this time around. It’s not just the words that left me a crying mess on our bedroom floor with snot stuffing my nostrils, sniffing and rubbing the tears from my swollen eyes. I broke down once I heard the front door shut with a force that made the windows shake. It was past midnight when I heard shuffling and muffled voices, I knew Jimin was back so I cracked the door open just enough to peek into the dark living room.

It was not just Jimin, the smell of alcohol penetrated my nostrils as I watched my husband with disgust, making out with a girl in our shared apartment. I couldn’t believe the audacity he had to bring this chick back where we’re supposed to live together, it was just too much. Hearing him ram into her from the guest bedroom while I cried in our shared bedroom with just one wall separating us. I bet he didn’t even hear the front door closing while I dialled my friend’s number to pick me up. He couldn’t have heard that over that girl’s loud moaning.

I don’t remember when I finally stopped crying in my friend’s arms. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what happened. It was enough humiliation to witness my once loving husband come home with a quick fuck after a fight, it doesn’t matter that he was reeking of expensive shots of alcohol. It didn’t make his actions any less painful.

My heart broke into a million more pieces when I saw him calling me the next day. I didn’t have the guts to pick up, all I could see was him kissing another girl. I bet he was so drunk that he couldn’t remember anything, I wonder if he yelled at the girl in the morning to get the fuck out once he realised it’s not me who lays beside him. Wishful thinking on my part, he probably fucked her in the morning too just before he called me.

Somi finds my body doubled over her toilet throwing up water since it’s been a while I last ate. She helps me through it and gently gathers my hair into a loose ponytail so I won’t get any in my hair as beads of sweat and tears are rolling down my face. My body works on autopilot going through the cleaning motions as I take a burning hot shower and then lay down to get some rest. My body aches and the fatigue is evident in every lazy flutter of my lashes.

I hear his voice, pleading to my friend to let him see me. Now it’s dark outside, it must be hours that I slept through. Somi denies that I’m here and I’m thankful for her quick understanding, the last thing I want right now is to face him. Even though I never told her what happened between us she could sense that it’s more than just a little lovers quarrel.

Our second anniversary would have been next month but instead of roses and kisses next to a dimly lit dinner table, there’s only a big envelope with papers. Divorce papers. The first time he sees me after a month of silence is to have his signature that would end this relationship for good. Today should have been a nice memory filled with laughter and passionate lovemaking. Maybe we were never meant to find each other. Better off as friends, these simple yet powerful words might have saved our future back then if one of us were brave enough to say it.

Jimin looks worn out, it’s obvious he rushed here from his office once you called, he wears his formal attire. He didn’t think you would show up even though it’s supposed to be the day that you should celebrate another year of marriage.

The papers lay heavy on his side of the table as he skims through the content he sees that you already signed your part. He picks up the pen that I prepared in advance, his hands are shaking almost crushing the poor stationery in half with the strength that he holds it.

”I don’t want to d-divorce.” It’s the first sentence that he says to me. His lips are quivering and fat tears are rolling down his cheeks by the time he dares to look into my eyes. I’m however are past the point of shedding crocodile tears. I cried over him enough times to make my face feel numb and puffy with the amount of sadness that poured out of my body in pathetic waves. I can’t keep eye contact for long as his face keeps reminding me of that night I tried so hard to erase from my memory this past month. A part of me is furious seeing him cry, he was the one who sealed out fate. He has no right to feel sad or plead with me to give him another chance.

”If you ever loved me, you will sign it. I give you a week to do the right thing.” With those last words, our anniversary ended.

 [13rd October 2020]

”It’s been a whole year after your divorce, don’t you think it’s time to get yourself out there again?” So this is why she wanted to see me I realise.

I know Somi means well, but I dread those words coming out of her mouth every once in a while. If I think about it she was always good at choosing the worst timing to bring the subject up. She’s not aware that this particular day holds a lot of those sour memories that I once cherished. This day was once one of the most important days to me, to us.

Today is Jimin’s Birthday, it’s the first time since we became friends and then later lovers that we don’t spend this day together anymore. I don’t know how to feel about it yet. I used this new year to heal from my wounds that the love of my life left behind. Getting used to living alone after living with someone for so long was tough. I caught myself making more food than I needed or when I was shopping I got those yoghurts that Jimin loves so much even though I’ve always hated the taste of those. I end up throwing them out at home. I blocked his number and any kind of social media that I could think of from the top of my head. The silence between us was crushing at first, I thought that there are no more tears left to shed but when I got our divorce papers from my attorney I couldn’t stop the new waves of tears from escaping.

Yet all my efforts seem to be in vain as my mind keeps going back to him. I catch myself wondering how he’s doing. If he feels as shitty as me even after a full year apart. If he ever wished things would have been different between us. I just wanted to know if he ever regretted destroying our marriage because of another girl. I don’t know if they are together or not or if he dates her now that I’m out of the picture but it’s better left this way. I’m already heartbroken, seeing him again would just open up my barely healed wounds.

”Can we not talk about this today? I’m feeling kinda low right now.” I sigh, shaking my head habitually if only it would make me stop thinking about him. There’s an old fashioned watch with a silver-coated socket in front of me, it’s pretty. A middle-aged woman brought it to me today telling me that it was a gift from his grandfather but it was never in working condition. She went to several locksmiths over the years but no one could fix it so she asked at last that I would be willing to pay for it. I found it interesting so I agreed to buy it from her. I started working on the old watch and at the beginning, it didn’t want to tick even when I made the necessary changes. I just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it when seemingly it didn’t have anything that needed to be fixed.

On my way home after a rough day at work, I bought some soju from the corner convenience store so I could at least get drunk enough to sleep through the whole night. The pills my therapist prescribed for me doesn’t seem to work at all nowadays.

I placed the watch down onto my bedside table and pulled the comforter over my drunk head. I heard the loud ticking of a clock but I don’t remember having one on the wall. I thought that my drunk mind probably was still hung up on the fact that I couldn’t even fix a simple watch so I shrugged the noises off and closed my eyes until red dots filled my vision.

I just need some sleep.

 [13rd November 2018]

”Wake up, baby. You’ll be late again.” There’s a kiss on my shoulder then on my temple as warm hands turn me around in bed. It feels oddly familiar to have two hands around my waist that pulls me into a hard chest, blond fluffy hair fills my vision once my eyelashes flutter open.

I’m back in our shared bedroom at his lavish apartment that’s a lot better than the shitty apartment that I was able to afford after our messy divorce. Divorce? Wait. A. Fucking. Minute. What is Jimin doing here holding me? It’s been too long that I saw him but he looks oddly young here, the Jimin I last saw started to get wrinkles and lost a bit of weight but this man reminds me of the boy I fell in love with. I remember getting drunk last night but I’m sure even at the state I was in I couldn’t get here on my own and I don’t remember getting a taxi or even getting up from my bed last night. I frantically search for my phone that I conveniently find on the nightstand, speechless as I watch Jimin stretch like we just didn’t share a bed together after one year of not seeing each other. He shouldn’t look so relaxed while I panic internally.

Then I see the date as my phone screen activates with my touch. I don’t use this phone anymore, I got another one after I blocked Jimin’s number because this device was a birthday present from him that kept reminding me of, well, him so I decided to change it even though I couldn’t afford a similar model like this with my single salary. I remember this day like it only happened yesterday it was around the time that he got a good position at his father’s company and we were both invited to a found raiser event. I bought this beautiful red dress that he eagerly ripped off of me once we were back at home slightly buzzed on the champagne.

It doesn’t make sense though. The only explanation that I can come up with is that I might be still drunk and I’m hallucinating of some sort after all it was just yesterday that Jimin’s birthday made me think about us again.

I lock myself into the bathroom. Sighing in relief once I am able to get away from Jimin’s inquiring eyes. He looked so confused when I refused to kiss him on the lips. I always kissed him goodbye before I went to work when things were still good between us. I just don’t know what to make of things right now, I’m so confused. It doesn’t feel like a dream at all and Jimin acts like he’s my husband rather than my ex-husband who cheated on me.

I splash some water on my face to calm down my nerves and I gasp when I look at my reflection in the mirror. My hair, it’s long. I got rid of those long locks after our divorce was done, Jimin liked my hair like this, long and curly, so I decided to cut it short.

”Baby, did you bring your work home? I don’t remember seeing this old thing on our nightstand when we went to sleep.” Eyes widening I rip open the bathroom door startling Jimin as I grab the old watch out of his hands. The digits are frozen one at eight and the other at one. 18. 2018? Jimin catches my hand mid-air as I try to slap myself so I could make sure this is not a dream.

”Baby say something. You’re scaring me. Are you alright?” Jimin holds my hand gently thumbs rubbing my skin as his eyes express his worry. It’s been a while since he was so affectionate. He stopped caring for me after he found that girl. I let him pull me into a hug, I missed this. I missed him but this moment doesn’t change the fact that the Jimin I loved so much cheated on me.

I left to go to work earlier than I used to around this time and I know Jimin noticed. I told him to get some takeout for lunch too.

I worked on the clocks hoping that it will distract me but it just made me think of what happened this morning more. Doing it the second time around made the process easier, I knew what was wrong with the clocks before I get them into pieces. I even remembered the young couple who brought an expensive watch to get it more fitted to his arms and he accidentally left his bracelet on my working bench after trying on the watch to see it fits after the adjustments.

Jimin sulked a little after I denied his kisses but he didn’t force me and for that I was thankful. He nagged me even when we were surrounded by his father’s workers at the found raising event to tell him what made me ’mad’ at him because he wants to apologize properly if he did something wrong. I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t just tell him he should apologize for something he will do in the future, it will just make me the weird one.

I was nervous to go home after the event because I remember how this night was supposed to end. My hand tightens around his arm when I see her approach us. I feel my stomach sink when she smiles at the both of us, introducing herself as Jimin’s coworker. I didn’t remember meeting her here but at that time I had no idea she’ll be the one who my husband cheats on me with. It was dark that day but I remember her blonde hair and her voice. I remember her moaning Jimin’s name.

”Y/N?” I snap my head towards the sound of his voice. He looks concerned it’s not the first time tonight that he had to repeat what he said. I feel sick, my body subconsciously leans on him to get a grip of reality.

I realised this is when it began. Her smile is anything but genuine as she fakes her concern, I can see the jealousy in her dark orbs as she watches my hand around my husband’s arm. She wanted him for herself all this time. She just doesn’t know yet that she succeeded a year after. A tear slid down my cheeks but I aggressively got rid of it before it could reach my chin. Jimin caged me between his strong arms drawing soothing circles onto my back but it doesn’t affect my body positively how it used to I cried harder inside his arms.

Jimin excused us and she relented even though it was clear as day that she wanted to send me daggers through her stare rather than her wishes for me to get better. The car ride was silent, he didn’t let go of my hand and I let him. I let this version of Jimin comfort me because he didn’t do anything wrong, not yet. He had no idea that this was our last happy years spent together before everything went downhill after that.

He held me in his arms.

 [5th March 2019]

After my revisit of 2018, I realised a few things. Firstly, I can travel between time with that old watch that only seem to works for a short period of time until it stops at the year I want to visit. The second thing I learnt is that Jimin can be manipulated with the right words. I decided after that night I saw her face raging with malice and jealousy that I’ll find out what really had happened between them. I know Jimin loved me even though I had doubts about it after our divorce. I knew him well we spend so much time together as friends even before we started dating. However, I never thought he would go so low as to cheat on his wife.

He was always gentle and understanding with me. Accepting the fact that I didn’t want to have children. He loved them but accepted me for who I was and never questioned why I felt this way. He was a good man, a good husband.

So I decided to watch him from afar and when she thought no one was looking, she showed her teeth like a venomous snake planting ideas into Jimin’s head talking shit about me, twisting my actions and words; going as far as telling him she thinks I am cheating on him! I know those pictures were fake as I did no such thing. I was so in love with him I would never betray him like that.

Then I remembered his odd change in behaviour, how he treated our once lovemaking sessions as fucking. How he couldn’t look into my eyes while he buried his dick inside my cunt made sense in a way now.

He thought I was the one who played him. He let himself believe that I was late from our dinners because I was fucking someone behind his back and when I told him I’m not in the mood to have sex. He got even angrier he thought that if I lied to his face he will show me what pain feels like by fucking that snake in our guest bedroom. My head was swimming overwhelmed with this information.

The truth hurt like hell.

I thought I will feel somewhat better once I discovered the truth but I feel even shitter. Jimin believed her, he didn’t bother to ask me if I was indeed cheating on him but can I really blame him? I didn’t ask either when I suspected it. We let our insecurities and that jealous bitch stand in between our marriage making it crumble down to pieces. I was angry, raging as my hand shook with it and it led me back to that day it happened. It felt too late to fix things so I closed my eyes and turned the clock. Leaving everything behind. Once and for all.

There’s nothing left for me to change in our past, I can’t fix our past mistakes but maybe I could change things in the future. Starting with exposing that snake. I wasn’t even surprised to see her as the head of the newly developed department.

[11st April 2021]

Jimin took over the firm after his father fell ill as I got to know from her assistant. I could tell she was surprised to see my face but even more surprised to realise it’s not Jimin’s whereabouts that I want to know but rather hers.

I shouldn’t be this smug about the fact that he cut all ties with her after our divorce. Deep down he was still a good man who couldn’t believe the fact that he fucked someone else while his wife cried next door with just one thin wall separating them.

I pictured this moment in my head a lot after I came back from the past. I’m way past the hurt and anger that settled in my bones for a full year and even before that. Instead, I felt eerily calm for someone who’s here to put up a show for the employees. I don’t even care if they think I’m crazy because once I locate her in her cubicles and dig my hair into her scalp pulling her hair hard with my iron grip all I could feel is utter satisfaction.

”I hope you enjoyed your good fuck. Was it satisfying to make my husband a cheater? I bet it was. Did you think I will never find out that you fed him lies and spread rumours about me sleeping around with men?”

Even the security watched as I pulled her by the hair the commotion around us almost drowned out the crying noises she made because of the pain. I didn’t pull that hard though, I hate her with every fibre of my being but I’m not a malicious person like her. She would deserve worse than what I’m doing but I never want to go down to her level ever again so I let her go.

”How did you found out?” She looked pale as a ghost. I know she was scared she had every right to be because I’m sure I have that crazy look in my eyes.

”It doesn’t matter. What does matter, however, is that now I know what you did to him. All for what? Just to have him all to yourself? Look how that turned out for you.” The people around us fell silent that’s how I knew Jimin is here. So I took a step closer to her and smiled.

”I never cheated on him but you know this well. This is not even why I feel so angry. The reason why I want to rip your hair out right this instant is not because you spread lies and badmouthed me but because you made him a cheater.”

It’s his first time seeing me after our divorce but I’ve been seeing him these past weeks thanks to the old watch. This time around I was able to look into his eyes and see that boy I fell in love with. We went through so much together, maybe.

Maybe we can overcome this too.

©️ helenazbmrskai (Like and Reblog don’t repost!)

#jimin angst #btsghostie #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts angst #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin x oc #jimin #bts

[likeahorribledream]

The One That Got Away

Chapter 7: Number One

Summary: Charlie tries to settle into her new routine, without Bucky. As she's finally getting back on track, she has to go on her first date with Potential Future Husband Number One.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: A little bit of angst, one jackass, worst mother ever.

Summary | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 |

The two weeks following the fight, Charlie spent her time either at work or with Steve. As she had promised him, she did all the research she could to find the best training possible with what they had.

The training was going well, both her and Steve were sore pretty much all the time. After a week of working out with him, she had decided to be the ‘’brains’’ of the operation and leave the ‘’muscles’’ part to him. She was way too out of shape for boot camps. Steve was happy to have her around to help him, whether she was working out alongside him or cheering him on while he was doing the exercises she was telling him to do; it was nice to be able to spend more time with her.

It took almost a week of them hanging out together every afternoon after work before he started to see a change. Slowly, his friend was coming back to him. She started to smile again and the first time she laughed he grinned non-stop for 5 minutes. It took her a little more than a week before she stopped waiting for Bucky to show up. She had been waiting for him outside every day for lunch, but he never came. Whenever they were working out in the park together, she was always hopeful that he would join them but he never did. Steve knew it was hard for Bucky to stay away and he was impressed that he had managed to do it for this long.

Every time he had seen Charlie searching for Bucky and looking sad when she couldn’t find him, Steve had wanted so badly to tell her why Bucky had said what he had said and did what he did but that would only push her towards him and ruin all the efforts Bucky had put towards protecting her, so he never said anything. In a way, he was relieved when he noticed she had stopped looking around the park in the hopes that Bucky had finally changed his mind but it also saddened him because he knew it meant she was starting to move on.

When Bucky asked about her and how she was doing, he never knew what to tell his friend. Should he tell the truth and say that she was still sad, making him feel more guilty in the process or should he lie and say she was fine, which he knew would make Bucky feel better and worse all at the same time. Bucky wanted her to feel better, he hated knowing she was still in bad shape but if she felt better, it meant she was forgetting about him and just the thought made him want to cry. Steve avoided answering by only telling his friend what the two of them had been up to with his boot camp, being careful not to tell him anything about how she was feeling. None of the answers he had for Bucky would make him feel better.

Ever since her fight with her parents, Charlie had been more distant towards them. She ate dinner with them every night, per their request. She waited until they told her she could excuse herself before walking away from them. She knew she was on thin ice and that anything could set them off, so she played the role of the dutiful daughter, doing everything they said as soon as they said it.

Charlie came back to her room after dinner. She had been sitting in bed, reading, for an hour before a soft knock was heard at her door. She put her bookmark between the pages open in front of her and closed the book, putting it on her lap. She told the person to come in and was surprised to see her mom. Ever since that night, her mom had been avoiding her. If she had something to say, she would send her father to tell her and Charlie was fine with it. Her mother wasn’t really high up on the list of people Charlie tolerated at the moment.

Mrs. Mathews looked at her daughter, no emotions showing on her face and stepped into her room to stand at the foot of her bed.

‘’This Saturday, you have your first date.’’ Her mother announced, like she was talking about the weather. As if it was nothing when she knew how much it would affect her daughter.

Charlie felt bile rise up in her mouth and her stomach dropped. She knew this moment was coming but a small, naive part of her had hoped they had changed their mind. Her mom kept talking, telling her all about her date. His name, his age, who were his parents, what job he had and where they were going. Charlie forced herself to listen to her mother but none of what she said completely registered with her and as soon as the door closed behind Mrs. Mathews, Charlie had already forgotten everything except that she was going on a date with Potential Future Husband number 1. She knew she was being childish but she refused to learn their names. She had named them PFH number one through five.

Having lost interest in the book she had been reading, she decided to go to bed instead. She put her book on her nightstand right on top of the one that had been laying there for the past 2 weeks. The book that Bucky had started reading to her. She turned off the lights and closed her eyes. She hated the fact that just the thought of Bucky made her sad, she hated that she missed him when he had made it blatantly clear that he couldn’t care less about her. That night, Charlie once again fell asleep with the images of Bucky telling her she wasn’t worth his time replaying in her head, ignoring the stubborn tears that were falling despite her eyes being closed.

Charlie’s co-workers knew something had happened but didn't know what it was. Just that it was bad, bad enough for her to close in on herself and put up her guards. She had even asked to be moved from the front desk to the back office and only work on the patients’ charts and files. The only person who was aware of the situation was the owner of the clinic, her dad’s friend who had hired her. He was on strict orders to fire her the moment James Barnes would show up at the clinic.

Everyone was worried about her, but they knew better than to ask questions. The whole energy at work had shifted, having lost their sunshine; the one person who could make anyone smile through a bad day or through pain. If someone was having a bad day, it stuck with them until the end of their shift because the only person who always knew what to say or what to do to lift their spirits up was hiding in an office, far from them.

They were just as surprised to see that no one was coming in to see her anymore. The friend that used to come eat lunch with her every day was gone and their most regular patient, Steve, hadn’t been seen in weeks. Although it seemed like the two were connected, it was just that Steve was focusing all of his time and energy on his training and didn’t want to risk ruining all of his hard work by getting hurt in an alley fight.

The next day at work, Charlie seemed even more closed off. Her co-workers had slowly started to see the old Charlie coming back to them but all of that was gone overnight. She came in, said a quick good morning to everyone and disappeared in the back office for the entire day. When they saw her again, it was at the end of the day when she left. She wished a good night, to no one in particular and walked out.

She walked straight to the park to meet Steve. No matter how bad her mood was, she never stood him up and always showed up to his training.

When he saw her arrive, he instantly knew something was wrong. Where there usually was a smile, he found a small pout; her face frozen in a frown. Her shoulders were slightly slouched and there was no energy in her steps whatsoever. She stopped walking and started looking around for him, he waited until their eyes met and waved her over.

As she walked over, she gave herself a small inner pep-talk to get into a good mood. Steve had been an amazing and supporting friend with everything that had happened, she knew she hadn’t been the best of company and brought down the mood so she forced herself to smile before reaching Steve and faked enthusiasm.

‘’Hey Stevie.’’ She greeted him, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

‘’Hey Char.’’ He smiled softly at her before bringing her into a hug. ‘’What happened?’’

She hugged him back, sighing. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ She whispered.

He took a few steps back to look at her. ‘’What are you apologizing for?’’

‘’I’m always in a bad mood lately, I always have problems. I’ve been a bad friend and I’m sorry.’’

‘’You don’t have to apologize for having a hard time. What you’re going through is not easy.’’ He hugged again before letting her go completely. ‘’So, tell me.’’

She motioned for them to start stretching, she was in a mood where she needed to blow out steam and working out with Steve was the perfect solution.

‘’I have my first date on Saturday.’’

Steve stopped stretching, looking at her with sadness in his eyes.

‘’Oh.. Char.’’

‘’It’s fine. We knew it was coming.’’ She tried to shrug it off.

‘’Wanna talk about it?’’

Charlie shook her head no.

‘’Wanna sweat about it?’’ He joked.

Charlie’s only answer was a big grin.

They spent the rest of the afternoon working-out, well Steve was working-out while Charlie was cheering him on, completely out of breath.

‘’I didn’t think I would ever be in a better shape than someone else.’’ He laughed in-between reps.

She stuck out her tongue at him. ‘’Ha. Ha. Ha. Aren’t you a funny one, Rogers.’’

‘’I know, I’m hilarious. It was about time you acknowledge it.’’ He smirked.

She rolled her eyes at him, smiling.

‘’I guess I was too blinded by my own flawless sense of humour to notice yours.’’ She shrugged.

Now Steve was the one rolling his eyes and laughed, pointing at his own head.

‘’How’s your ego? Good? Does that big head of yours make it difficult to walk through doors?’’

‘’My ego is fine, thank you for asking and yes, it is difficult sometimes, some door frames are smaller than others but I just learned to side step. I’ve gotten excellent at it.’’

Steve whistled, his eyes focusing on her head. ‘’Fascinating. I think I can actually see it grow before my very eyes.’’

‘’Aren’t you supposed to be training right now?’’

‘’Aren’t you?’’ He shot back.

Charlie gasped dramatically and they both started laughing. Steve went back to training, finishing today’s boot camp before falling to the ground, sitting next to his friend.

‘’You’re getting better every day Stevie. I’m proud of you.’’ She smiled.

Steve blushed at the compliment, not that anyone could notice, his face already red from all his hard work. She forced him to stretch afterwards, even if he kept complaining that he was too exhausted and he didn’t need to stretch even if deep down he knew he would be less sore the next day.

They walked home in silence, aside from their giggling. Anyone who saw them wouldn’t be able to tell that these two were full grown adults by the way they walked, shoving into one another; their steps going in every direction but a straight line, and by how they acted.

After an eventful walk home, they stopped a block away from Charlie’s house. It had become where they met and where they said goodbye, Steve didn’t come over anymore. They hugged once last time and went their separate ways.

Charlie felt so much better. All the laughing and running around almost made her forget what was waiting for her at home. Almost. But tonight, she couldn’t be bothered with it all. She had just had one of the best days in a long time and she was determined to not let anything ruin it. She was careful not to do or say anything that would set her father off, as soon as it was possible she disappeared to her room and finally let herself relax once she had closed the door.

She was getting ready for bed, brushing her wet hair from her, very much needed, shower. She was looking at herself in the mirror and being tired, she zoned out. Her eyes weren’t focusing on anything in particular, looking in her mirror at the reflection of her room behind her. She was looking around, still through the mirror, when something caught her eye; bringing her out of her thoughts. She gently placed the brush on her desk, to its rightful spot and turned around. She started looking around again, trying to find what had caught her attention but she couldn’t find it. She took a few steps to the side, when she saw it again. Something was shining in the light from her room. She walked over and picked it up.

Her locket.

She closed her fingers around it and brought her hand to her chest, where the locket usually would be and took a deep breath while closing her eyes.

‘’I’m sorry Gran. I know it meant a lot to you, it meant a lot to me too. I really wish you were here right now.’’ She whispered, almost inaudibly. ‘’I miss you.’’

As she opened her eyes again, she tried to think of a place where she could put the necklace. Somewhere that she would know it was safe, hidden from her parents but where she would still have easy access to it. Her eyes fell on the books piled up on her nightstand, finding the perfect hiding place. Her parents never looked through her books, they would never bother themselves trying to find out more about her interests.

She took the book that she had started reading with Bucky and found the page they were on. She hid the necklace in between pages, as close as possible to the bookbinding to not make it too obvious that it wasn’t closing completely because of the pendant. Closing the book, she put it back where it had been; under the book she was currently reading.

She fell asleep easily that night, feeling more at peace than she did the night before and every other night before that.

Saturday came around quickly, too quickly. Like everyone else, Charlie always looked forward to the weekend but not this time. Steve had tried to reassure her, saying it would go smoothly and that maybe she would even like him but she knew that if her parents had chosen him for her, he probably didn’t have anything in common with her but everything in common with them.

The pit in her stomach made it more difficult to get excited and to get ready. Even though she had half a mind to not put any effort on how she would look, she knew it would only mean more trouble for her so she decided to look her best, as if it was a real date. A date she wanted to be on with a man she liked.

She looked at herself one more time in the mirror to make sure her hair was secured into place, that her eyeliner looked good and that her dress looked flawless; not a wrinkle in sight. After all, she had to show her ‘’housewife potential’’. She heard knocking at the front door and took a shaky breath. She grabbed her clutch and opened her bedroom door, cringing at her father’s loud laugh. She walked downstairs, avoiding to look at the man waiting for her as long as she possibly could, that way she didn’t have to talk to him. Instead, she focused all of her attention on her feet as she walked down. It looked completely natural, like she was simply trying not to trip. Unfortunately, she reached the first floor and finally had to look up.

Number One looked handsome, too handsome. He had a smug look on his face, the kind of look that screamed ‘’I know I’m hot, I’m a big shot and better than you.’’ and Charlie hated that. It was going to be a long night.

She shook his hands while her dad was introducing him, honestly she wasn’t really listening and just nodded politely when he asked if she was ready to go.

He told her parents he would bring her back no later than 10pm, then shook her father’s hand. He turned around, opened the door and walked outside towards the cab that had been waiting for them; never looking back to see if she was following him. She followed not long after, a bit disappointed that he hadn’t opened the door for her and let her walk out first, guiding her with his hand resting on the small of her back like gentlemen did. Like James Bucky did.

The restaurant was nice and very expensive. The waiter walked them over to their table, right next to the window that looked over the street from where they had just come from. She followed the waiter, looking on the tables around to see what looked good. Great, she thought, ridiculously small portions. I should have eaten before this. Although it was really ‘’unlady-like’’, Charlie liked it. She didn’t care about the name of the restaurant or how much everything cost. She cared about actually eating and loving the food on her plate. That wasn’t going to happen tonight.

When they reached their table, Number One pulled out a chair and sat down. He didn’t pull out her chair, he didn’t ask her which seat she preferred; the one facing the wall or the one back to the wall. He barely even looked at her. Leaving her with the chair against the wall, she started walking over to sit but was stopped by the waiter who gave her a small smile. He pulled out her chair for her and waited until she was comfortably sitting before leaving them. She thanked him with a small nod and looked at the man sitting across from her, there was no doubt in her mind that he didn’t want to be here either. She wondered why he accepted to do this, clearly he had to be coerced into it otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

She was surprised to learn that he was here of his own free will.

‘’I like those kinds of dates, '’ he started. Dates, plural. Not his first time doing this.

‘’I like to see what kind of sad woman needs her parents to set her up on dates with men.’’ He snickered. ‘’Couldn’t find anyone to love you on your own uh?’’ He added with a mocking tone, pouting to mock her even more.

As rude as he was, Charlie sincerely didn’t care about what he said. He didn’t mean anything to her and his opinion meant even less.

Her eyes drifted to the window, watching people walk by as they looked curiously into the restaurants. Human nature, always so curious. The man in front of her kept talking, never noticing that she wasn’t listening to a single word he said.

The people on the street were much more interesting than he was, she was almost amused; a small smile at the corner of her lips. Her arm was resting on the table and her hand was under her chin, holding her head up. The small smile quickly faded when her eyes met with someone’s on the street. She sat straighter in her chair, her hand falling on the table. The pit in her stomach got even worse, the lump in her throat that had rapidly formed made it hard to swallow or breathe.

It was the first time she had seen him ever since that night almost 3 weeks ago. Bucky.

They both froze into place, even though a window separated them. Her heart started beating faster, just as his did too.

He had managed to avoid running into her for the past 3 weeks. Avoiding every place he knew she went to often, taking a different way home in case Steve would be bringing her over as he lived close to him. He thought that going out for a walk on a Saturday night would be safe, she usually spent her Saturday reading books or by sorting them and rearranging her shelves. He really didn’t expect to see her and the way her expression changed, Bucky knew she hadn’t expected to see him either. He finally broke eye contact, looking her over. It felt like he hadn’t seen her in months, when in reality it had only been a few weeks.

He noticed how dolled up she was and how beautiful she looked. He started moving before he even realized it, walking towards her.

When Bucky broke eye contact, Charlie also took the time to look him over. She wondered if his hair had always had that cute little curl at the front of it. As he started walking closer, her heartbeat picked up. Her heart was beating so fast and so loud that she was sure everyone in the restaurant could hear it.

That’s when he finally saw him; the reason that she was out on a Saturday night, the reason why she looked so beautiful. Number One.

It was like he had been in a trance when his eyes met hers, for a few moments he had forgotten why she wasn’t in his life anymore and why he couldn’t hear his favorite sound again, the sound of her laugh but when he saw the man sitting across from her, everything came rushing back and he was brought back to reality.

He stopped walking, meeting her eyes one more time; so many emotions went through his head and showed in his eyes. He sincerely hoped that everything he had wanted to say and every apology he had been dying to confess could be seen in his eyes.

Then, he turned around and walked away, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

Charlie spent the entire date thinking about Bucky and the look in his eyes. He looked so sad but why? He never cared about her, he told her so himself. Hundreds of questions were running through her mind while she ate. She had barely ordered anything, she had lost her appetite.

When the check came, she was glad she did. Number One paid for his half and then pointed to Charlie, talking to the waiter like she wasn’t even there.

‘’She’ll take care of the rest.’’ He said, with a smirk.

The jerk. He wanted her to not be able to pay, to ask him to pay for her half because she didn’t have any money. He wanted her to feel humiliated. Can’t find a man and can’t pay for yourself? Pathetic. She could almost hear him say those words, his smug expression said it all.

Charlie looked at the waiter with a big, genuine smile on her face before grabbing the clutch that rested on the table next to her and opening it.

‘’With pleasure.’’ She said, pulling out a few bills and handing them over to the waiter.

He stopped smiling instantly, clearly angry that she hadn’t needed to beg for him to pay for her meal. It seemed like her parents had left out the part about how she worked everyday, which almost meant she got a paycheck every other week.

Now, he was the one feeling embarrassed. She had completely turned the situation on him and he ended up looking like the cheap date who couldn’t afford taking out women in places like the one they were in right now.

The waiter looked down at Charlie, grinning. He had seen and heard everything Number One had said and done since they had walked in and he was glad to see her put him back in his place.

They walked out of the restaurant and Charlie swore she could see smoke coming out of his ears. He waved over a cab and turned his face to look at Charlie.

‘’You can find your own way home.’’ He said coldly before sitting in the cab and closing the door, telling the driver to go.

Charlie sighed. Although he was extremely rude and she absolutely despised him, she really didn’t feel like walking home alone. Especially not in this dress and those shoes. Her dinner had been expensive and she didn’t have any money left to get a cab.

‘’What a jerk.’’ She said out loud, angry.

Suddenly she felt someone behind her, standing close to her. Too close. A hand rested on her left shoulder before it ran down her arm, fingertips brushing against her skin. They were the kind of little touches that would have made her swoon if she hadn’t been so terrified.

‘’Bad date?’’ Was whispered in her ear as the hand on her left arm reached hers, closing around it.

***

As I promised yesterday, chapter 7 is here! I hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original character #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes x original character #james bucky barnes x original female character #james bucky barnes x ofc #james bucky barnes x oc #james buchanan barnes x original character #james buchanan barnes x original female character #james buchanan barnes x ofc #james buchanan barnes x oc #the winter soldier #winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers x platonic!original character #steve rogers x platonic!oc #steve rogers #bucky barnes 40s #40s bucky barnes #40s steve rogers #steve rogers 40s #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel

[beck-a-leck]

Frey/Vishnal prompt #120 "He's pampering me, Let him be." 😅 please?

Okay it's been a couple weeks, but here you go Nonny!

Since I got this ask around my birthday, I couldn't help but make it a little birthday themed. I hope you enjoy some fluffy, married Frey and Vishnal

💜💜💜

Finding a work-life balance was not always easy when one lived and worked in the same building, with needy coworkers, managers, and other responsibilities just a couple doors down from your bedroom. There had been jokes when Vishnal and Frey got hitched that he was “marrying his job” and some well-meaning, if slightly pessimistic, advice from the married folks in town about the importance of establishing boundaries. Frey knew, going into their relationship, that Vishnal loved his job almost as much as he loved her. He liked the work, he liked being kept busy, and being a butler was his dream, and she never wanted to stop him from attaining that dream. They were both work-a-holics to a certain degree, if anyone bothered to look at the schedule Frey kept as closely as they looked at Vishnal’s.

What worked for them wouldn’t necessarily work for everyone else. But everyone else didn’t matter.

Frey and Vishnal were both very flexible when it came to their work-life balance, each understanding that sometimes one had to be up and gone to work before dawn sometimes, and other times one might be kept away for days at a time.

There were only a few days on the calendar that Frey put her foot down and demanded her husband spend completely devoted time with her. Her birthday and His. Everyone who might have need of them on those days got a firm, but polite, rejection. Any other day they could go on and off the clock as their duties called for, but for those two days a year, there were no exceptions.

And yet, despite four years of this system in place, somehow everyone forgot that for 24 hours Vishnal and Frey were off limits.

Frey’s birthday had started off well, waking up at dawn with her husband, as was their habit, enjoying a slow morning together before getting up for some breakfast – Frey cooked, Vishnal’s cooking skills had not improved one bit since she’d known him – and while they ate fluffy pancakes drizzled in honey and sipped at relax tea, Vishnal filled in his Princess on everything he had planned for her special day.

“Today, I’m treating you like a queen.”

Frey grinned across the table, “You do that every day.”

“Yes, but we don’t get to take a nice long soak together at the bath house every day, do we? I booked up one of the baths for us and even ordered some special salts for Lin Fa to put in”

Intrigued, Frey sat forward, “Oh, tell me what else you have planned?”

Vishnal went through their whole itinerary, a luxurious soak at the baths, lunch at Porcoline’s, a walk together by the lakeside, some nice wine with dinner. It was quiet time together, and it was all Frey could ask for.

“You get so few chances to really relax and let someone pamper you.” Vishnal squeezed her hand as they stepped out of their suite in the castle. “Today, it’s all about you.”

They got as far as Venti’s chamber when someone tried to derail their plans. Someone wanted to recruit Frey to clear out some monsters in Yokmir forest, she firmly, but politely directed them to the request box outside and they continued on.

Taking a shortcut through the fields, they ran into Clorica with her arms full of laundry and a request for the butler. Vishnal faltered and bit his lip, he didn’t really like telling people ‘no’ particularly friends. But Frey gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he said, “Leave it on my desk, I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

Clorica blinked, confused for a moment. “Oh, of course, it is your birthday, Frey. You two enjoy your time together. And happy birthday, Frey!”

They got through their bath without interruption, taking the time to really luxuriate in it and emerged slightly pruney but with silky smooth skin and a lot of tension melted away. They almost made it through lunch before Dylas came around asking for a favor, and Frey had to chase him away with a stern Look. Twenty minutes later, on their way to the lake, it was Bado with some new harebrained scheme to make money. In unison, Frey and Vishnal said, "Not today.” And kept walking.

Later, as they whiled away the afternoon hours in their home, Vishnal brought out his last surprise as part of Frey’s Birthday pampering. The bath was only the first part of her day of luxury, now she was going to get the whole spa treatment, fluffy robe, fruity drinks, cucumbers on her eyes, a face mask, mani-pedis, anything Vishnal could think of he had prepared. So Frey donned the comfortable robe, and settled into a nice lounge chair, and let herself be pampered from head to toe by her doting husband.

It was a bit of an unusual experience, Frey wasn’t really a manicure type of woman, considering how much work she did with her hands. Her nails got dirty and chipped far too easily to try and keep them nice and long, she didn’t even bother with polish, but the massage was very nice.

Frey was just on the brink of complete relaxation when the approaching sound of footsteps reached her ears, and noon after someone was knocking on their door. Volkanon barely waited for them so call out “come in!” before he was barging through, with his finger raised and a scolding ready.

“Vishnal, where have you been? You’ve been shirking your duties all day! And I…” Volkanon faltered, and lowered his scolding finger, “What is going on here?”

Frey lifted a cucumber from her eyes, fixed Volkanon with a glare Vishnal would never dare to, and said in a almost steely voice. “It is my birthday. He is pampering me. Let him be.”

Volkanon cleared his throat and began scooting backwards out of the room. “Ah, my apologies, I forgot what day it was. Ahem… carry on”

Frey stared Volkanon down, taking a long sip of her drink as he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. Then, with a breathy laugh, turned a smile back to her husband. Vishnal smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “I love you so much, you know that? Not everybody can stand up to Mr Volkanon like that.”

Frey kissed him back, only pulling away slightly to mutter, “Well, after Ethelberd, I figured I was finally brave enough to tell Volkanon ‘no’ once in a while.”

“My brave, brave princess. Not a day passes that I’m not so happy you came into my life.” Vishnal planted another kiss on Frey’s lips. “Now, I believe I promised you a massage.”

Frey relaxed almost instantly beneath Vishnal’s touch, and with a contented sigh, she replaced her cucumber slice over her eye, took another sip of her drink, and sank into the chair.

#replies #becky writes things #prompt fill #anonymous #rune factory 4 #rune factory #rf4

[hitoshisbabygirl]

WHEWWWW CHILEEE 🥵😳👀

After a certain conversation I saw from the lovely @mythiccheroacademia about a bass voice induced/hood(ish) Tamaki I HAD to write this idea. I feel like he’s still be shy but let the right one say down outta pocket shiii...the black force energy is ACTIVATED and he’s not backing down from a fight 😌

So I write this up , I hope it’s okay sskksndkdn it’s really my first official black!reader with a character 🥺 (also me admitting how much I love Cece and her works with this here 👉🏾👈🏾)

Paring(s) : Tamaki Amajiki x Black!reader

Word count: roughly 2.4K

Warnings ; LANGUAGE LANGUAGE LANGUAGE. Just some explicit language of tama telling off hoes ✨ jealous and hot under the collar tamaki of sorts 😌 yes tamaki is older, they’d both graduated and currently in a pro hero company

Don’t play with me// T. Amajiki

It was just a day out with your loving boyfriend Tamaki. The two of you had been dating for a while. Now in the summer of no classes and no extra hero work to do , the two of you decided to do way more together; dates, game nights, other festivities you name it the shy boy went along with it. To the surprise of you both, your two cousins and big brother decided to have a surprise trip to Japan to see you, and to meet the man who stole your heart. They were rough around the edges, tattoos as far as the eyes could see, but to you, they were who you grew up with, the fun and adrenaline filled things y’all did made up your childhood and life until you transferred to U.A wanting to strengthen your own quirk and be a hero , plus you always wanted to visit japan, you being prepared already, almost outstanding in your Japanese, and loving the culture you could experience first hand there.

And that’s where you met a very shy but handsome Tamaki Amajiki. Surprising most around him the two of you hit it off, understanding eachother and quietly talking to yourselves about whatever topic that came up. It was evident to his friends, especially his best friend Mirio that he had fallen for the exchange student from across seas, who stole his heart and made him more confident. Getting that confidence boost made him ask you out, and now you two were a happy couple of 2 years, going on to a lifetime.

Which brings us to the current time, it too you at least a half hour for him to come from your shared room to meet his other family to be. After the first tedious round of talking , the boys were getting along, Tamaki trying (and failing) to fit in with your more aggressive brother. Sighing you called out to them “Aye, I’m gonna get some food, want anything?” With calls of ‘nah’ and full meals you sighed, taking down who wanted what and leaving . They planned to be here a week or two, and that alone wasn’t bad. They just could be...hot under the collar and with them having explosive quirks, you didn’t want a fight breaking out from someone looking at their “little sister” wrong.

The weeks went by too fast, the five of you having a lot of fun together, exploring and just catching up on what you missed back home. Giving you a hug each of them told you how much they loved you and would be back while you were still on break. Giving your brother a suspicious look he laughed “ Don’t worry , mama’s coming up too, she misses her baby” he said as you laughed “ I was just curious on how you got the money to keep coming back and forth here to see me” “I got that promotion at the construction company, more money, and way better hours” he laughed as you gave him a bigger hug “and you’re just now telling me as you leave, you ass” giving you one last look he smiled, throwing a hand up at your usually timid boyfriend “I’ll see you later G ight? Don’t forget what we talked about and what we taught you yeah?” He said as Tamaki did the same back , giving a surprising “I got it” back to him as they walked down the driveway to their cab. “What did he tell you?” You questioned as he gave you a uncharacteristic smirk, kissing your forehead “don’t worry about it sweetheart”

As the next few vists happened throughout the year you realize tamaki was becoming more and more like your brother, less timid and more dominant over conversations, but your soft and loving tamaki never left, if anything it got stronger. He took you out to the mall to shop, wanted to do more outside dates and loved picking out cute outfits with you. He enjoyed the ink adorning your skin even more than he did when he first saw it, asking for you to help him pick out something for him eventually. “Okay who are you and what did you do with tamaki?” You questioned one day when he came home, giving you your usual kiss as he came in the door. Except it was nothing like you had before, he put his hand under your chin and tilted you until you were in your tippy toes to keep the kiss as deep as he started, his other hand dangerously low on your back as he gave your ass a squeeze, chuckling as you gasped, pulling away with a smug look “Hey doll what’s up? How’s your day been?” He asked as he slid past you, Ignoring the shocked look on your face “Tamaki how are you feeling? Are you alight you’ve never been this..forward” tilting his head he came over to where you were , standing in your shared kitchen with your bottom lip in your mouth. Grinning he pulled it from your teeth, giving you another peck “You shouldn’t be teasing your bottom lip, that’s for me to do” he whispered as you gasped, burying you face into his wide chest. “Nothings wrong with me sweetheart, I just..realized how valuable you are to me. You’ve always been but...I know to what level of a queen I have as my girlfriend yknow?” The iconic shy Tamaki made an appearance , making you look up to him. He was shy but he was confident behind what he was saying. “It’s not a bad thing..I like it” you admitted as you traced his cheek “Good, Heyo don’t think I’ll be changing again”

This year for a piece of your summer break you and Tamil decided to go visit back to the states, the two of you loving and hating the heat wave that hit you coming off of the plane. Once again you were with your brother and only one of your cousins this time, visiting your mom and having family cookouts. Planning to stay a month you two had some time to spend together and with your family. Your nieces and nephews loved Tamaki, the fact he could make his limbs into what he ate made them love to try and have him pick them up with his tentacles the most. Your mom loved him and everyone had accepted him as your husband to be.

On one of the hottest days y’all experienced there, you decided to wear one of the cutest outfits you had bought, a two piece ; a crop top and a mini skirt. Both pieces black with blue butterflies over them. As you sat in the living room waiting for your boyfriend you heard footsteps from upstairs, being greeted with a sight you wish to burn on your eyelids. A tank top , the infamous, grey Nike joggers and black forces. A whole meal stood in front of you. Holding in a gasp and a subconscious lip but you cleared your throat, giving him a reassuring smile “well look at you, you really are turning into my brother” you joked as he gave you a shy smile “ I wanted to wear something I’m not used to..I hate things clinging to me..unless it’s you of course “ he teased back as you wrapped your arms around his torso, standing on your tiptoes as you gave his cheek a kiss “you look good..really good..I might have to fight the girls around the block if they look at you wrong.” You warned as he smirked, wrapping a large arm around your shoulder “don’t worry they have nothing on you baby..”

Heading out to get some lunch you fanned yourself with your hand, the heat really getting to you as you stood in line. Tamaki when you get drinks, promising to meet you back at the circle so you two could heard to the nearby shopping plaza, wanting to get some more things before going to get some games to play later with your family members who planned to come and hangout before one of their games came on that night. You and Tamaki were planning to just be upstairs and watching your own movie by then.

Hearing someone clear their throat you valves over to see a shorter, chocolate man staring at you, a wide grin on his face as he licked his lips “whatsup baby how are you today?” Knowing how this was gonna turn out you gave him a polite smile and a quick “I’m fine” before going to look around to see if you saw that familiar tuff of indigo walking around “Soo..what's a fine ass girl like you doing in this heat alone? You’re [. ]’s sister right?” He continued as you shook your head yes, not giving him a thought as you stared at your phone “You aint gotta be shy , your brother knows me. I’ve always saw you and that ass wander around when you used to be here, now you moved away to some other country what was it again? China ? That Asian land aint meant for a sista like you, they don’t even got enough to please you with unlike me” sighing you started to correct him “I live in Japan for one, two I have a boyfriend and three don’t you still have something unresolved with that one girl? Ion need nothing from no one that isn’t my boyfriend thanks” You snapped back as he laughed, comfortably putting an arm on your shoulders “Oh who ol’ girl Ki? Nah I ain’t messing with her and what , you got you a little Japanese man , what is he and his short ass gon do yo me huh? Don’t think that you having one of those short Kung Fu doing ass gon do anything to a real man now baby, you’ve been eating too much rice huh?”

Before you could open your mouth you felt an arm wrap around your waist and move in front of you. Now staring at the strong back of your boyfriend you went to stop him before your mouth dropped open “And who said ya ass could keep talking to her huh?” Without a stutter in sight Tamaki snapped back to the slightly shorter and smaller male “ And who the hell are you?” “The same man you wanna talk about being a short ass Asian” with a look of interest you watched your boyfriend stand up for you “Ooohhh I get it , you think you can just step up to anyone and they not be scared of you huh? Mann you aint in Japan anymore boy , you ain’t gon do shit” the guy barked back, making Tamkai raise an eyebrow and laugh, looking him up and down before squatting down some to match the arguing guys height “At least I can reach my girlfriend, even she can look down at you” which a few ‘oohs’ and ‘damns’ coming from the bystanders the boy gave him a snarl as he tried to come for Tamaki again “she wants some real dick not some little pepper in her walls” and with that Tamaki gave him a even harder laugh, walking until they were too close for your comfort, before you could stop him he gave his last and seemingly damaging blow “But I wonder who’s dick she’s bouncing on and screaming for more from hm? Oh trust me I know how to dick her down and then some”

With his words he reached over and pulled you to his hip by your ass, making the boy give up with a huff , walking away as the others around him boo’d and made fun of him, praising Tamaki as he gave his own satisfied smirk, dapping up some of the guys who came up to him.

Pulling you from the line he left his hand at your hips as your jaw still was open “Where in the hell did you learn that?? Damnit [. ] he must’ve taught you” you huffed as he looked you over , licking his lips as he kissed your cheek. “Mhn..your brother said defend what you love so..I simply did that. He had no business thinking he could step to my girl and hit on her from thinking he was good enough to talk to a queen, my queen at that. Shit ain’t sweet but I respect myself and you too much to fight some low life” he finished as you bit your lip, liking this side of him “Well shit...aren’t you the man Tamaki?” He laughed as he kissed you, biting where you were tugging on your bottom lip to make you let out a squeal. Pulling away he gave a lopsided smile “I’ma keep true to what I said too, when we get home I’m making sure you know I meant what I just said back there, no one tries to take what’s mine, especially with mediocre ass attempts with dick” he growled as you stuttered giving him a wide eyed look. Maybe tamaki was less of the baby you’ve come to see him as. Once you got home, Tamaki made sure you knew how much he loved you, making true on the words he threw to that guys he got into it earlier

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #my hero academia x black!reader #mha x black!reader #amajiki tamaki #tamaki amakiji x black reader #tamaki amakiji x reader #I love this so much #this is just mhmmmm 🥵😌🤤 #yes sir please #get aggressive with em #then meeee 🤸🏽‍♀️

[obsidiancreates]

Freezer Duty (Part One)

(This was going to be a one-shot but then it reached 4,000 words so now it’s split up)

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

Amy parks her car and lays her head on the steering wheel. "You can do this. Christmas shopping is already slowing down, you can do this."

She grabs her coffee thermos, a special blend Emma came up with just for the holiday rush days (it had made Amy almost cry with thankful joy, and had made Emma shrink into her sweater and mutter "Whatever," five times straight), and gets out of her car.

The parking lot is mostly empty. Either most of her coworkers took the bus, or Amy is one of the only people on time... again. Not that she blames anyone. The weather is so cold that getting out of bed feels like a death sentence.

As she walks to the doors, she glances at the other cars. Glenn, obviously. As long as she's been working there, he's always been early. Carol, too. Probably planning to mess with Sandra somehow, this kind of stuff is why corporate shouldn't have shut down the in-store HR department. And then...

Jonah's car? He's usually at least a couple of minutes later than her... weird.

She walks past, and pauses. Why are the inside lights on? That means it's unlocked, and she knows Jonah locks his car obsessively. She once saw him lock it five times through the doors of the store. 

Curiosity claims her, and she peeks inside. 

And drops her thermos.

“Oh my go- JONAH!”

The scream is loud enough to summon Glenn. “Amy, what is- AHHHH!” he holds his hands up to his head as he shrieks.

Jonah is laying inside his car, bleeding from the neck.

Amy yanks open the car door and shakes Jonah’s shoulders. “Jonah, Jonah wake up!” As she shakes and calls out, Glenn stands behind her with his hands clasped, frantically praying to both Jesus and the Jewish God in a highly confusing yet heartfelt prayer.

“Jonah!” Amy slaps him in the face in a moment of complete desperation.

Jonah startles awake and puts his hand up to his cheek. “O-ow! What was that for! And...” he looks behind Amy. “... Why is Glenn turning purple.”

“Wh- oh, my god, Glenn, take a breath. Okay, um, Jonah, are you alright?”

“I-I think so... why?”

“Well, because you’re sitting in your turned-off unlocked car, in the middle of winter, passed out with blood on your neck.”

“WHAT?!” Jonah feels his neck. “OH- oh, god this is- this is not good, how did-”

“Our insurance is so bad,” Glenn sobs, “You’re not gonna make it!”

“Glenn, don’t- okay, let’s get you inside and- you’re not still bleeding, right?”

“I don’t think so, but what does critical blood loss feel like? Like would I be able to tell? I need to Google this, just-”

“Yeah, you’re going to be okay. Okay, into the store, Glenn help us out.”

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“Ow.” Jonah winces and flinches away as Amy dabs his neck with a wipe. 

“Pretty dramatic start to the work day, gosh. I hope nothing else happens.” Glenn shakes his hands by his sides and looks around nervously. He leans in and whispers, “Do you think they’ll find another foot? Jonah, what sneakers do you wear?”

“Again, still have both off my feet.” Jonah winces again, and Amy sets down the towel. 

“Okay, it’s all clean, so now we can-”

“Hey guys! Whoa...” Cheyenne stops in her tracks as she enters the breakroom, spreading her arms and stopping everyone else from entering too. There’s an annoyed clamoring for a minute before Garrett just rolls in under her arm. Everyone stoops down to follow, except Marcus, who tries (and fails) to turn it into a game of Limbo.

Garrett looks at the bloody wipes on the table Jonah and Amy are at. “Whoa, dude, what the hell happened?”

Amy sighs. “Jonah was-”

“We found Jonah dying in his car!” Glenn exclaims.

“Not dying!” Jonah and Amy say quickly. 

“He was passed out and bleeding a little,” Amy says to cut any rumors off preemptively, moving the collar of his shirt to get a better look at the wounds.

“In your car? In the middle of winter?”

Glenn nods, his face screwed up with worry. “And no scarf!”

“Oh, you’re for sure gonna die,” Cheyenne says, Mateo nodding in agreement. “It’s like, super cold outside.”

“Honestly I didn’t even feel that cold,” Jonah says, putting his hands up. “I guess my car stayed warm. ... Some-somehow.”

“What were you even doing in there? Are you homeless again? You could always crash at my place. Unless the birds don’t like you, then you’re gone. Nothing personal.” Dina sips her coffee.

“Thank you, for that... generous offer, um, I don’t actually remember.”

Amy pauses her checking. “You don’t?”

“No, I um, I just remember realizing I forgot something and going back into the store to get it, and then coming out and everyone was gone. And then there’s just sort of, nothing. ... That-that actually is more worrying, now that I say it aloud, am-am I dying?”

“Your brain probably froze up and is just taking time to de-thaw,” Marcus says with a flippant gesture. “Happened to my cousin once when we ate too many beer-pops.”

“... Okay, then, what’s a- no, nevermind, I can just guess. I don’t actually think that’s how brain freezes work, but thanks, I think.” 

Marcus smiles and raises his hands in an attempt at a gracious gesture.

“So you don’t remember anything?” Amy asks, bringing the subject back to the alarming and somewhat urgent situation.

“Maybe someone came up behind him and hit him over the head. Blunt force trauma, put him back in his car to make it look like he froze to death, do you know of anyone who wants to kill you? Maybe a disgruntled ex-classmate, customer you bored out of their skull with a pointless story, maybe-”

“That- no. No, I don’t think anyone wants to kill me for telling an invigorating story. And I’d rather not think about that, actually.”

Dina shrugs. “You don’t want to solve the mystery, fine. But don’t blame me when someone you screwed over in a group project cuts off your junk.”

Jonah and Amy stare at Dina for a second, and then Amy shakes her head. “Anyway... I checked, and I don’t think he has anything wrong with his head. Just his neck.”

Mateo glances over, unperturbed but curious. His expression becomes horrified. “Oh, my god! There’s two giant holes in your neck!”

Jonah slaps his hand over the wounds. “WHAT?!”

“They are not giant holes!” Amy shouts as everyone starts chattering. “They’re tiny ones! And-and they’re more like cuts, anyway!”

“Maybe someone injected him with drugs.”

“Why would they do that, Dina?”

“Yeah, who wastes drugs like that?” Cheyenne looks around at everyone else, who have gone silent. “What?”

“And, wait, with two needles?” Garrett points to Jonah’s neck. 

“Maybe they missed a vein the first time.” Dina snorts like it’s an obvious conclusion.

Marcus snaps his fingers. “Maybe it’s some kind of new fancy needle.”

Dina shakes her head. “I keep up to date on drug needle trends. We find too many in the customer bathrooms for me to be out of the loop.”

Glenn startles slightly. “We do?”

“Guys!” Amy gestures at Jonah.

Everyone murmurs some form of “Right!” or “Sorry Jonah.”

“Really, I’m-I’m fine.” Jonah keeps a hand over the holes. “It’s just a little sore, and um, I don’t know, I guess I’m a little chilly and tired, but I’m generally okay.”

“Okay, great!” Dina claps her hands. “You can have an easy assignment today because of the whole ‘attacked for revenge’ thing-”

“That’s not what-”

“Well, no-one knows what happened, so for now my theory is valid. Anyway, I’ll assign you to grocery. Slow over there today, bakery is having a big sale and uh, huh, we had an overstock of powered donuts so it might get wild.”

“Well... thank you, Dina. A slow day sounds good, actually, because I’m starting to get a headache.” Jonah rubs his eyes. “Really bright in here.”

“It’s the standard fluorescents.” Glenn looks up. “Unless corporate had it changed overnight, but I don’t think so...”

Cheyenne tilts her head with a small frown, and looks at Jonah’s neck throughout the rest of the meeting.

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“No way,” Mateo scoffs. “That’s far-fetched gossip, even for us.”

“No, but it would make sense, right?” Cheyenne looks around, and then whispers. “Didn’t notice the cold, lights too bright, two holes in his neck. Jonah totally got bitten by a vampire.” She leans back and nods, eyes wide at her own revelation.

“Vampires aren’t even real though! As much as we might wish they were.”

They glance over at Grocery. Jonah is yawning, leaning against the freezer section. 

“He looks pale, right?” Cheyenne whispers.

“He always looks pale. He could wear non-tinted sunscreen as foundation,” Mateo says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Yeah, I guess. ... Should we try to get a look at his eyes?”

“Chy, I love you, but we’ve got a ton of restocking to do and I don’t want to be all panicked before lunch.”

“Right. Right. Yeah. Probably just like, letting my imagination get the best of me, right? Yeah...”

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“Excuse me?” 

Jonah startles, jumping away from the freezer door. “Hi! Yes, sorry! Um, what-what can I... help you with?”

“Could you please show me where the frozen pizzas are?”

“Sure, ma’am, right this way.” Jonah rubs his eyes, leading her to a different section of the freezer area. 

“Oh, thank you! Could you grab it for me?”

“Wh-why?”

“I don’t like the cold.”

Well, neither does he, and he’s already chilly. But this is his job. Somehow. How did he get here again? His head feel a little foggy, he can’t quite gather his thoughts. 

He reaches in and grabs the pizza. “Okay, here you-”

“No, the ones from the very back.”

“... I-I’m sorry?”

“The back ones are always better.”

“... Alright, I will... reach all the way into the back of the freezer.”

Jonah leans into the freezer, bracing himself for chills and shivers. And...

... Nothing.

It’s cold, but it’s... not bothering him that much. he leans in, grabs the pizza, and leans back out without feeling any more cold than he did prior to the task.

“Thank you, young man. You should grab yourself one too, it’ll put some color into those cheeks.”

The old woman walks away, and Jonah pulls out his phone to look up symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia.

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

Justine shakes her head. “I’ve read Twilight a million times, if he was a vampire I would be able to tell.”

“What if we give him some garlic bread, and tell him it’s normal bread?” Sandra suggests.

“Because if he’s just allergic to garlic, we won’t know the difference. Doy.” Marcus scoff-laughs at Sandra and points at her mockingly with his thumb.

“What are you guys talking about?” Garrett asks, rolling up to the group. “Marcus, aren’t you supposed to be unloading a truck right now?”

“Eh, didn’t feel like it. Anyway, we’re trying to figure out if Jonah is a vampire now.”

“Are you serious?”

They all nod. Garrett grins. He folds his hands in his lap. “So what have you tried so far?”

“Nothing yet,” Justine admits.

“We might give him garlic bread,” Sandra says with a shrug. “Is he allergic to garlic?”

“No.”

Sandra lights up. “So it would work!” Her smiles fades. “Oh. But then it might kill him.”

“We can’t do that! The Horsemen stick together, I could never hurt my best friend.” Marcus shakes his head. “What if we just drop something really heavy on him and see if he catches it?”

“That won’t hurt him?” Garrett checks.

“Not if he’s a vampire.”

“Right, right. How about instead of splattering him across the Wheaties boxes, you just ask Glenn to go pester him with Bible stuff?” Garrett would love to see that, Jonah gets to flustered over trying not to offend while trying to get away. It’s hilarious.

Marcus points at Garrett with a smile. “That- yes! Perfect! Thanks man!”

The small group runs off, and Garrett laughs a little to himself as he heads on back to customer service.

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“Oh, this one is one of my favorite verses, so here we go, ahem-”

“Hey, Glenn? Isn’t there a-a rule, against doing this kind of thing at work?”

“Well... technically... but Marcus told me you wanted to know my favorite parts of the Bible, so I just sort of thought why wait.”

“He- really? Because I’m not... known, for being very curious about... the Bible...”

“But you are known for being curious about your friends,” Glenn says with a point and a smile.

Jonah plasters on a smile himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I do tend to-”

“Get a little nosy.”

“... I was going to say get involved, but... I-I guess nosy works too. But um, I’m restocking the ice cream right now, so kind of have to act fast,” Jonah motions at the freezeer.

“Oh, then I’ll make this quick! Okay, this verse says-”

Jonah sighs, rubbing his head. His headache is just getting worse and worse. He’s pretty sure it’s the lights, or maybe the dry-cold freezer air, but Glenn’s babbling is not helping. 

And his voice is really grating right now. It’s not exactly soothing at even the best of times, but Jonah is pretty sure he’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than another round of ‘Top Bible Verses’ from Glenn.

“Okay!” he snaps. “That’s good, that is- that is very much enough! Thank you for sharing something you enjoy with me, now please let me do my job!”

Glenn startles, and then hugs his Bible to his chest. “Fine. Then I guess you don’t get to hear me sing the top five best Psalms. Which is too bad for you, because Jerusha says I do them well enough to be on radio.”

Glenn walks away, and Jonah sighs. He hadn’t meant to snap, it was just really getting on his nerves. ... At least his headache is a little better already without the extra noise.

He watches Glenn walk away, and then catches sight of Justine and Sandra quickly ducking behind another isle. He looks on in confusion for a moment more, and then gets back to work.

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

“Okay, we need a real plan,” Justine sighs. 

“For what?” Dina pauses on her way to the coffee pot. “More raccoons? Did they find a snake in the bananas again?”

“We think Jonah night be a vampire,” Sandra says.

Cheyenne stops eating her lunch. “Oh my god, you told them?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say!” Mateo defends. “It’s been a boring day! Other than, you know, Jonah almost dying.”

“Wait, you guys think Jonah is a vampire? No way, have you seen him? That’d be too cliche.” Dina scoffs at the idea. And then looks at the ground, a thoughtful frown appearing on her face. “Although the cliche would also mean it makes sense...”

Garrett eats a chip. “Come on, he’d be a terrible vampire. Vampires are supposed to be confidant and suave. Jonah can’t even explain his cookie choices without a five-minute tirade.”

“And he’d cut himself off at least six times in those five minute,” Dina says with a slight wince. “Yeah, he’d be a terrible vampire.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes he’s really confident, and he does that smirk thing?” Sandra says, gesturing to her own mouth for emphasis. “Plus, he always stands like a politician.”

“And he puts way too much product in his hair! That’s a total vampire thing,” Cheyenne says with a definitive shrug.

“He does already have that black-hair-pale-skin thing going for him...” Mateo admits. “If he could be a villain on CW he could be a vampire.”

“And how would he drink blood?” Garrett asks. “Just talk until the person passes out? Ask overly politely in a way that really sounds like he’s trying to ask for sex?”

Everyone murmurs in agreement.

“He would starve,” Cheyenne declares. “Because he’d be picky, too, right?”

“Picky like, about the person’s health?” Mateo asks with a doubtful frown. “He’d probably freak out about not wanting to discriminate though.”

“That would be the starvation,” Dina says with a nod. “He’d be too worried about the socio-political crap of whoever he picks so he’d just debate himself until it was too late.”

“... That’d be kind of funny,” Mateo says quietly.

Everyone thinks for a moment, and then agrees.

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

“Hey, Jonah.” Dina snaps her fingers in front of Jonah’s face, jarring him out of his standing sleep. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry, Dina.” Jonah rubs his face. “I feel exhausted.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I know. Um, what did you need?”

“I need you to go help Brett move some of the exercise equipment, the dolly broke.”

“Wh- so-so we have to move it by hand?”

“You’ve got a little muscle on your noodle arms, you can handle it.” Dina slaps him on the back and walks away. Jonah huffs, hands on his hips. After a moment he shakes his head and moves over to exercise.

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

“Okay, now we find out for sure,” Dina says smugly. “No way a Human Jonah could handle the weight of that stuff.”

Everyone is crammed into the surveillance office, watching Jonah on the monitors.

“Should one of us tell Amy about this?” Cheyenne asks. “I feel like we’re leaving her out.”

“It is weird that I’m in on this and not her,” Marcus agrees. “But she’d probably tell us this is ‘dangerous’ or something.”

“She wouldn’t like it at all,” Dina confirms. “Best to just tell her about it later, or let her find out on her own. Later.”

They watch Jonah and Brett work together surprisingly smoothly, moving the heavy equipment with a perfectly human amount of struggling. Dina leans back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. “Dammit. I almost let myself believe in magic...”

“Wait, look!” Cheyenne points to the monitor. 

Everyone looks, excited and hopeful. And they collectively sigh and grumble.

“He’s just talking to a customer,” Mateo says.

“A super rude one! I’ve dealt with him before, he’s a total asshole. Let’s turn on the audio and listen to Jonah freak out.”

“I do love a good Jonah freakout.” Dina turns on the audio.

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry, sir, we just don’t carry that here anymore.”

“This store has carried it for over ten years.”

“Yeah, it’s a bummer! I know I hate when store stop carrying stuff I like. But maybe! Maybe we can view this as a-a chance for personal growth, for you! A chance at... at evolution, at moving forward-”

“Are you mocking me, little bitch boy?”

Everyone gasps. “Oh no he didn’t,” Cheyenne whispers. On the camera, Jonah is clearly taken aback, leaning away from the customer and staring with wide eyes.

“Some... very strong language, sir. Um, no, I just meant that maybe, you know, instead of-of viewing this in the negative-”

“So I’m a negative person?”

“No! No, I can’t- I don’t know you! I can’t make judgements about people that fast! Just- I hope this doesn’t ruin your day, right? And-and I want to see if we can find you a-a replacement, so that you can still have what you want!”

“How important do you think this is to me? You think I’m pathetic? Can’t be happy without my specific little brand?”

“No, I just-”

“I’m gonna need to speak with your bitch of a floor manager or whatever she’s called.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Your bitch of a floor manager. The loud Latina lady.”

Dina stands up, ready to go beat the man with a bat for talking about her best friend that way. Cheyenne pushes her back down, jaw dropped. “I think Jonah is about to stand up to him,” she says.

Jonah is indeed, looking quite pissed off. He steps closer, and looks the much taller man right in the eyes. Jonah’s a good head shorter, his hair barely coming up to the other man’s chin, yet for some reason unknown the black-and-white monitor shows the customer being the one who leans back.

“You, sir, are a very unpleasant person,” Jonah says in a calm, measured voice. “And I think you need to do some self-reflection. I think you should leave the store, and learn how to talk about people without using the word ‘bitch’, alright?”

It’s so overly polite it’s almost comical. Yet somehow... it works.

The customer stands there for a second, then just... walks away. Jonah watches after him, the calm and collection expression on his face quickly giving way to confusion. He looks around as though wondering if someone else had done something to scare the customer off.

“Confidence boost,” Sandra says softly.

Cheyenne pulls out a notebook and ticks something off. “That counts as evidence.”

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

Jonah has no clue what just happened.

One moment he was speaking with a rude customer, the next the customer was walking away and Jonah has no clue why. What he does know was that his headache was slightly better, and that he really wishes his lunch break was sooner because he is famished.

Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns around to see Amy looking at him with slight concern. “You okay? You’re just sort of... staring off into space.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Uh... yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

“... I don’t believe you.”

“Well, then you... have trust issues, because I am. I’m fine.”

“... Sure... can I see your neck again, real quick?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting weird and I want to make sure you’re not developing an infection that’s getting to your brain?”

“... Yeah, check away.”

Amy checks, and winces. “Youch. Yeah, let’s get some more antibiotics on those.” She starts leading him towards the breakroom. “So, what happened with that customer? I came over right at the tail end, missed the whole thing.”

“Oh. Um... I guess I just, really got through to him.”

“You?”

“Yes, me, why- what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It’s just, usually when you try to calm down a customer you don’t get very far.”

“Well, you know, sometimes people just listen if you hit the right cords-”

“Mmm-hmm, yeah.”

“-I guess I just found the right words to resonate with him, is all I’m saying.” If only he knew what those words were...

Creak

Jonah pauses. “Did-did you just hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Creaaak

Jonah looks up. “I think the ceiling is about to collapse.”

“Why?”

CREAAAAK!

A mass of merch falls from the ceiling! Amy and Jonah both scream, brace themselves, Amy still holding onto Jonah and Jonah still holding onto Amy-!

...

And... they’re a safe distance from it all as it crashes down.

A multitude of raccoons scamper out and scatter, their Nest Of Stolen Goods now revealed. Jonah and Amy watch from the sidelines.

The sidelines!

“How did we get over here?” Amy is staring at the pile.

“... I don’t know,” Jonah replies, staring as well. Oh, what an adrenaline rush, his heart is racing- ... it... should... be racing...

Amy’s hand is still around Jonah’s wrist. She looks at him for a moment, and then shakes off the shock. “Okay, um, let’s get a team to clean this up, and get some antibiotic on your neck.”

“Will that part take a whole team, too?”

“Ha-ha, Jonah. ... I’m just glad neither of us got hurt.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

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

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” Cheyenne grabs Mateo and starts shaking him. “DID YOU SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!”

“WE ALL SAW!” Mateo shouts, pushing Cheyenne away. He huffs and brushes off his sweater. “All three of us left, anyway.”

Dina taps the monitor. “That’s why you never leave the surveillance room after something mildly interesting happens! Something big always follows!”

“He’s actually a vampire,” Mateo says in disbelief. “He vampire-ran away from that junk, he’s actually a vampire!”

Dina scoff-laughs. “The little guy pulled off one hell of a ruse, huh? Pretty clever, faking amnesia.”

Cheyenne stops her mini victory celebration. “Whoa, why do you think he’s faking?” 

“Because why wouldn’t I? He’s a vampire now, even if he actually doesn’t remember what happened it’s got to be pretty obvious to him that he’s undead. ... Right?”

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“What’re you googling?” Amy dabs at the neck wounds gently with a damp cloth as she prepares to put on the antibiotic cream.

“Symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia. I guess everyone got into my head this morning, and I’ve had some weird stuff happen to me...”

“Well... anything about last night coming back? Could help you figure out whatever symptoms you’ve got.”

“Still nothing.” Jonah rubs his neck when Amy is done dabbing it with the cloth. “I still feel like the day just started, honestly.”

“Oh yeah,” Amy agrees. “Today’s going to be a long day.”

#Superstore #superstore jonah #superstore amy #superstore nbc #superstore tv #jonah simms #Amy Sosa #Dina Fox #garrett mcneil #glenn sturgis #sandra kaluiokalani #vampire #vampires #Vampire!Jonah AU #blood tw #death mention #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

[leejeongz]

first kiss with CIX

requested: yes, by anon

🔅thanks for requesting! i hope you like it 🥺 i’m so sorry it took so long, i wanted to take my time with it hehe🔅

a/n- from now on, i am not going to add gifs to reactions. i am aware that some gifs creators aren’t happy when people use them and so i don’t want to fuel their anger anymore as i can completely understand their point.

💙bx:

even though he was your boyfriend, you’d still never been to byounggon’s apartment. you’d always pictured what it would look like. probably lots of clothes, lots of colour, maybe some abstract art on the wall. he was always eager for you to come over but you didn’t want to intrude or overstay your welcome. plus you hadn’t been dating for that long and it just didn’t feel right yet.

“i’m going into town to pick up some stuff for lunch” you replied to byounggon’s whiney message asking what you were doing today.

“can’t you come over instead? i miss you” he replied in an instant. he must be bored, you thought, wrapping your favourite scarf around your neck and heading out.

you were closer to the shops than to your house when you felt a few droplets of rain splash onto your head, followed by many more. “a bit of rain never hurt anyone” you thought, continuing to walk. some time passed, your walking pace had gotten slower, your nose has gotten redder, and byounggon had gotten more anxious thinking you could be out there, catching a cold. a single clash of thunder and you were straight on the phone to your boyfriend. “okay i’ll come over now” you blurted out, half joking half not. he asked many times again and again just to confirm that you were indeed, coming over and until every sense of a joke had disappeared.

you arrived at his apartment looking like a drowned rat.

“cute” he patted your dripping wet hair as you entered. “there’s some clothes on the sofa” he shouted to you while shutting the door “you can change in the bathroom if you like. there’s a towel on the radiator too.”

you cautiously picked up the clothes and walked gingerly to his bathroom. while in there, you realised you didn’t even take in your surroundings, did it look like you’d imagined? you’d never imagined the toilet before so you couldn’t really say at this point but-. your thoughts were cut off by the sound of speakers crackling.

you went to see what the awful noise was, luckily you’d gotten dressed by this point but that didn’t even cross your mind.

“even cuter” he said, turning from his “music corner” to face you looking all cozy and warm in his oversized hoodie and sweats. you walked closer to him to see what song he was playing, it sounded familiar and less crackly than before.as you got closer his arms stretched out. the sleeves of his black hoodie covered his hands, which he soon pulled out to rest on your waist.

“can i kiss you?” he asked politely in a soft voice. you shyly nodded at him in response.

you leaned in and your lips met. his lips were a little chapped and yours weren’t in the best state either because of the weather, but it was definitely something you never wanted to forget. he didn’t rush it, but it wasn’t too slow either, it was filled with love and care. usually you’d curse the rain for ruining your plans, but today was an exception.

💛seunghun:

you weren’t even dating yet, but jfc everyone knew you would be soon. somehow you’d become friends with the popular guy, the one who sat with the IT girls for lunch, the one who could always be seen at festivals and concerts at the weekend, the one who everyone wanted to be with. it all started when you exchanged disgusted looks across the classroom when some delinquent said they ate banana on pizza, and from then, many snaps were sent, many seating plans were changed because he was “getting distracted” and he’d even started sitting with you and your friends some days for lunch, which the popular clique weren’t too impressed about.

you’d never been to his house before but that was about to change. you arrived at his front door and were greeted by two rather large dogs barking and a panicked seunghun. he hurried you upstairs since he gathered they could be pretty scary when you meet them for the first time. you sat on the edge of his bed after being told to make yourself comfortable.

here” he handed you his gaming controller “pick something to watch” you were quite relieved that he wasn’t going to make you play some weird game that you knew you’d lose at. instead you put on white chicks, which you had both seen numerous times before.

it wasn’t long before you both had gotten bored of the film and your phone battery was just a tiny red slither. footsie had been played countless times but you were enjoying each other’s company so you didn’t wanna announce that you were bored. before you knew it, seunghun had snatched your phone from your hands “i’ll charge it for you” he said, plugging it in.

there was nothing left to do other than mess with your nails. seunghun rolled onto his side and looked at you for a second before asking you “have you kissed many guys?” it was abrupt and you probably thought his intentions weren’t in the right place, but he couldn’t help what just came out of his mouth.

“a few” you responded. you picked at your nailed some more, staring at them like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “have you kissed many people?” you retaliated.

“some” he responded, rolling back onto his back. “do you maybe-“ this time he stopped to think before continuing “want one? from me i mean.”

you smiled to yourself before turning to face him. “sure”.

it didn’t last very long, his right hand was on your cheek while your left hand naturally found its way to the back of his neck. your cheeks were definitely bright red, but his temperature indicated that he was probably the same.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that for” he smiled, pulling away. “so is this our first date?” he asked outright

“do you want it to be?” you avoided the question, making him answer it. you definitely wanted it to be, but whatever you said you knew he’d tease you.

“no i thought i’d just kiss you as a friend” he rolled his eyes, going in for another.

🤍yonghee:

three dates in and you were pretty sure that you liked him, and that he liked you back. he’d taken you to his favourite cafe without even realising it was your favourite too, he’d taken you to a art gallery which was a pretty big deal, you thought, and you’d just finished your date at the park. you packed away all the empty boxes into your picnic basket to throw away when you got home and he helped, brushing hands occasionally which made your heart go crazy every time.

“this was really nice, i’m glad the weather didn’t change” he chucked, bringing his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. he looked at you for a reaction but you just smiled, not even looking in his direction. “you do feel the same way, right?” he asked, bewildered by your silence.

you finally glanced up at him “yes i do” it was quite formal looking back but at least you told him.

“then why the shyness?” he asked, almost saddened by your sudden change in character.

“because i didn’t wanna come off as too… much” you said. “i didn’t want you to see me go beetroot red either like now but here we are” you laughed, getting back to your normal self to get rid of the awkwardness.

“you’re so cute” he cooed whilechuckling, moving his arms to balance himself while he leaned over to give you a gentle kiss.

you didn’t fight it. it’s what you wanted since day one. but you were nervous and it was unexpected, you didn’t want him to think you weren’t enjoying it but you barely moved.

“was that too much?” he pulled back slowly, slightly embarrassed.

“no” you replied softly with an unmovable smile on your face. you looked back over to him, he had one eye shut and the other was squinting. you moved your head to block the sun and smiled widely at him. “can we do that again?” you asked innocently.

“please” he laughed a little, leaning in once again. this time you lead the kiss, proving to him that you felt the same way as him. his hand slowly made its way to your waist. you jumped slightly which made him smile into the kiss. your stomach flipped every time you realised what was going on and you were getting more flustered by the second, but of course yonghee found it adorable and it made him smile even more.

🖤jinyoung:

it was very rare that you and jinyoung got free time together, alone. you’re not even sure if you’d had any since getting together. you always had work to do or exams to prepare for or family matters to deal with. he was always dancing or studying or with his family too. you made do with the little time you had together but it always left you both wanting to share more intimate moments. you could only do so much on facetime.

“why aren’t you at school?” he asked in response to you showing up on screen in your bed. “are you sick? do you want me to come over? oh god are you skipping school?! i mean that’s cool but we all know… you lack… ya know… brain cells. you need to be there babe,” he joked while waiting for an answer.

“first of all, my lack of brain cells has nothing on my lack of taste when it comes to men. second of all, my school is closed because the heating is broken and it’s like -200°C. do you want us all to freeze to death?” you retaliated sarcastically.

“ideally” he replied, setting his phone down on the desk while he put a hoodie over his tshirt.

“well i was going to say you could come over since i’m home alone all day but i don’t think I want you to anymore” you fake sulked even though he couldn’t see you.

“no i’m getting ready now you don’t have a choice” he announced, picking his phone back up and heading outside of his shared accommodation.

he arrived at your door in no time.

“did you run?” you asked, watching him stagger his way up your driveway panting like a dog.

“no” he obviously lied. “well yes” he confessed “but only so i could do this”. he put his ice cold hands on your cheeks and started to lean in.

“the neighbours” you pushed him away slightly, pointing to all the houses on your street.

“fuck your neighbours, have they had to wait 600 years to kiss their girl/boyfriend?” with that, your lips finally collided. you soon forgot about the idea that people were watching and became fully immersed in the kiss. you’d wanted to make the move for so long, if you knew he was okay with an audience you would have done it in front of your friends.

it was the longest kiss either of you had ever had, undeniably the best too. it was innocent, yet hungry. passionate and sincere but hasty. everything you expected it to be and more.

💜hyunsuk:

not a single day passed where you didn’t think about kissing hyunsuk, but every time you tried, you always chickened out. it was the same whenever he tried to either. the mood was never right, you wanted to remember the kiss yet he’d always spring it on you at the most random times, that’s why you always pulled back or pushed him away.

today you were cleaning out some of your old make up, most of it had passed its use by date, some just wasn’t your style anymore and the rest you were gonna keep. hyunsuk being hyunsuk just wanted to be around you, so he came over and watched while messing in every little item on your desk.

“what about this?” you asked, holding up a sealed lip tint, knowing he wasn’t really paying attention to you.

“yeah that’s nice” he replied dismissively. you shook your head and threw the lip tint into the space you’d made on the floor for stuff to give to your friends.

“hey, why throw it there? i said it was nice,” he questioned. you were a little taken back, was he actually listening?

“when have you ever seen me wear that shade?” you retorted. you stared at his face intently before coming up with a fun plan. “i think it will look nice on you though, actually, can i put some on for you?” by this point, you’d embodied the pleading face emoji, he wasn’t gonna say no to that.

“only if i can put some on you after” you nodded, he’d forget about that anyway, you thought. he picked up the lip tint and passed it to you. you stood in front of him and puckered to show him what to do. he followed and you applied it gently. you hated to admit it but it did look really good on him, even though you’d only said it as a mindless joke.

“all done” you said, turning him on your chair to face the mirror.

“hmm pretty!” he spun back around to face you who was still crouched at his height so you could admire it even more. to your surprise, he grabbed your face and pulled it towards his. he planted one sticky peck on your lips before looking to see the mess he’d created. “not enough” he whispered to himself before returning his lips back to yours for longer this time. it was more intense. he seemed to throw himself into this one a bit more, and so did you. your lips moved together instinctively and your hands found their way over his shoulders while his steadied you are your hips.

“that was our first kiss, you know?” you asked once he’d pulled away and giggled a bit.

“wait really?” his eyes went wide and his hands were quickly removed from your sides. “i’m sorry, i got caught up in the moment, i hope it was okay” he rambled.

“it was perfect” you smiled “now here” you handed him a make up wipe “we can do it again after you’ve got that sticky mess from around your lips, okay?”

#cix #cix reactions #cix imagines #bx #byounggon #seunghun #yonghee #jinyoung #bae jinyoung #hyunsuk #yoon hyunsuk

[pengychan]

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 23

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by @swanpit​.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: Long overdue make-up sex? Long overdue make-up sex. Only the epilogue left before this is all wrapped up!

***

“... I need water.”

“Seconded.”

“Thirded.”

Silence. Some shuffling.

“Well, who’s going?”

“I’m not. I went and got Coco back to sleep when she cried. Did my part.”

“I am not getting off this couch.”

“If you make me go, I’m only getting water for myself.”

“I hate you both.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Uugh. No, I don’t.” Ernesto groans, rubbing his eyes before dropping his head back against the couch’s backrest. He grimaces towards the kitchen. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Three in the morning.”

“What! Where has the evening gone!”

“Where has the entire day gone, we began discussing this over lunch,” Héctor mutters, laying upside-down with his legs over the backrest.

He is not wrong, really: they have quite literally spent half a day and much of the night discussing where to go from there. They talked through lunch, through the afternoon with Coco passing from one set of arms to another whenever she was not napping, talked while Héctor changed her diapers with a frequency Ernesto found frankly concerning given the child’s small size. They took a brief break from talking while walking their dogs - best to be careful with their words outside - and feeding Coco respectively. 

More talking ensued as they put Coco in her playpen to watch a cartoon, as they cooked dinner, as they ate it, as Coco fell asleep cuddled up to Pepita while the dogs watched with envy from outside the playpen, with Dante having finally learned that trying to jump in would spell disaster. 

They discussed everything they could possibly discuss - their arrangement, how it could work going forward, whether to tell Coco, what to tell Coco once she was old enough, how to keep it private business without having to actively hide, what family members could be told and what family members could never - coming to the agreement Imelda’s brothers were probably the only ones who could be trusted, at the moment, to possibly know if it came to it.

“I never thought I’d see the day I had to say they can be trusted over our father,” Imelda said as she disappeared to put a very sleepy Coco in her crib, and Héctor and Ernesto were still snickering at the idea when she came back. They sat on the couch with a drink, resumed talking, and never stopped except for the time Coco began crying and had to be soothed by a very concerned Héctor.

Until, of course, exhaustion and thirst caught up with them at three in the damn morning. 

“So, I’m going to be the waiter from now on,” Ernesto mutters, just a little dramatically, as he finally gets off the couch to fetch everyone some water. He guzzles down a glass, fills two more, and brings them back. Héctor and Imelda drink just as greedily while he flops back down on the couch, exhausted and honestly still absolutely stunned.

“... This is-- is this really happening?” he finds himself asking, very quietly. Part of him fears this is all a dream, that he will wake up alone in his bed to find none of this has really transpired. The other two pause, look back down at him - and maybe Ernesto let something vulnerable show a bit too much, because suddenly they’re both leaning down with the clear intention of giving him a kiss. Exactly at the same time. 

With predictable results. 

Bonk.

“Ow!” Imelda yelps, wincing back.

“Agh! Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” Héctor frets. Imelda just slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle laughter, which just comes out of her nose with a honking sound. Ernesto just laughs, his own head unscathed but oddly light. Yes, this is happening. He couldn't have dreamed up something so stupid if he’d tried. 

It is happening, he thinks. We’re giving this a chance, he thinks. For the love of God don’t fuck it up, he tells himself, but says none of those things aloud. He just laughs until he has to catch his breath and it dies down in a snicker. That’s when Imelda leans down to kiss him briefly, this time without bumping her head against Héctor’s.

“I think that means we’re officially too tired to function,” she says. “Let’s go to bed.”

Ah. Right. It is three in the morning. Ernesto clears his throat and sits up. “Of course-- I’ll drop by after lunch, then, so we can go rehearse--”

Imelda pinches his earlobe. “Who said anything about you leaving?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. Ernesto’s words die in his throat. 

Right. Yes. This is happening.

Not that anything physical is going to happen just yet. They are all much too tired to do anything other than shuffling into the bedroom as quietly as they can - “whoever wakes her up has to calm her down”, Imelda threatens - and changing their night clothes - it is odd, finding one of his nightshirts still in their closet, washed and neatly folded - before they flop on the bed. 

At least, Ernesto and Héctor flop down on it. Imelda is decidedly more dignified, and leans down between them. Héctor pulls her close, and immediately holds out the other arm for Ernesto with a grin. Part of him is still wondering if he’s dreaming this, really, but when he slides closer, leaning against Imelda’s body with Héctor’s arm around him, again he knows he will not awaken alone after all. He smiles. 

“Your arms are freakishly long,” he mutters, very romantically, causing Héctor to snort. 

“Oh, thanks, amigo,” he mutters, but his hand keeps resting on Ernesto’s side. “Don’t hear you complain when I give the best hugs ever given.”

“That’s debatable, who decided it is you to give--”

“I said--” Imelda cuts him off, then yawns. Loudly, and without bothering to put up a hand against her mouth. “Sleep,” she mumbled, settling her head back down, forehead against Héctor’s chest and one hand resting on Ernesto’s forearm around her waist. It’s not clear whether it’s an order or just a declaration of what she’s about to do, but they do take it as an order. 

They are, after all, exhausted. There will be time to marvel over getting all of this back in the morning; for now, Ernesto leans down his head, closes his eyes, and sleeps basking in their warmth.

***

***

They get to sleep a grand total of two hours and a half before they awaken to a chorus of wailing, barking, yapping and yowling. It’s hard to tell what started first - Ernesto apparently would put money on the wailing, though Imelda is ready to counter-bet a chihuahua yapped first  - but the fact stays, someone needs to go put an end to it before half the condo is at the door with murderous intentions.

Thankfully, Héctor is out of bed almost immediately. He’s still sleepy and misses the door the first time, hitting the wall before stumbling out with a murmured ‘I’m fine’ to go make sure no horrid monster has attacked Coco in her crib. In his haste he leaves the door open, and two chihuahuas as well as the cat rush in, with the small dogs yapping and trying without success to jump up on the bed. 

The other two as well as Dante clearly decided to stay behind and watch Héctor’s baby-soothing operation. Imelda stifles a yawn, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “Those dogs are not allowed on the bed,” she says the instant Ernesto moves to pick them up, just as Pepita jumps to settle down next to her head.

Ernesto scowls. “That’s favoritism,” he points out, and a little monster yaps as though to agree. One of them whines, clearly trying to move her into relenting. Imelda remains entirely unmoved. 

“Pepita is clean,” she replies, reaching over to scratch Pepita behind the ears. Her green eyes, fixed on Ernesto, narrow. Hard to tell whether it is in pleasure for the ear scratch or in displeasure for the man back on her owners’ bed, but if it’s the latter, she will have to get used to it.

Ernesto makes a face. “I can’t imagine it’s hygienic.”

“She grooms herself for hours on end--” 

“With her it tongue, that’s not cleaning a thing--”

“Well, it’s more than dogs do. I have only ever seen them use their dogs only ever use their tongues to lick--”

“They’re clean! I bathe them every week!“

Imelda blinks. In the next room over, Coco’s wails are quieting down. “... You do?” 

“With a very expensive dog shampoo, too. I advertised it on my Instagram account - I mean, their Instagram account. Didn’t you see?”

Ah. That. “I think I unfollowed both when we-- broke things off,” Imelda admits, causing Ernesto to frown. “It stung,” she adds quickly. “Seeing you.”

“Ah.” He clears his throat. “Well, I-- I haven’t been posting a lot, so you haven’t missed much. Should get back to it. I think the dogs have more followers than I do at this point.”

“Well, they are cute. I suppose,” Imelda concedes. Pepita jumps off the bed, clearly satisfied with her dose of scritches, and is followed outside by both chihuahuas. Imelda props herself up on her elbow. “You should try with shirtless photos,”she adds. It’s mostly meant as a joke, but Ernesto is clearly considering it. 

“I already posted plenty. And a couple where I was only wearing a--”

“I mean, more shirtless photos,” Imelda rectifies, very much aware of what photos he is referring to. Unlike Héctor, whose social media accounts are bereft of any sign of life aside for the occasional photo of a guitar, a music sheet, or Imelda going over his latest work, Ernesto is very much active and not precisely trying to disguise the fact his sexuality is ‘yes’.

“I guess I could take a trip to the beach for a few more shots, after we’re back from Santa Cecilia...” he muses, and Imelda is about to ask if they’re meant to join him for that trip to the beach when Héctor walks back in, a triumphant grin on his face and phone in hand.

“She’s sleeping! Look!” he whisper-exclaims, and gets right back in bed between them before he proceeds to show them thirty identical photos of Coco sleeping. “Isn’t she the most beautiful little girl?”

“She is,” Imelda agrees with a small grin, leaning her chin on Héctor’s shoulder. “Not that I’m biased or anything.”

Ernesto scoffs. “You absolutely are.”

“Not everyone is your mamá, Ernesto,” Héctor snickers, elbowing him. “Telling everyone within earshot how handsome you were going to be once you shed your baby fat.”

“Well she was right, I did turn out-- what! She never said that, pendejo!” He huffs, giving Héctor’s shoulder a shove that almost sends him flying off the bed. He laughs it off, flopping back down. 

“She did too, Ernestito! Heard with my own ears!”

“Mph. Your stupid elephant ears.”

Héctor’s expression turns coy. “Ah, what can I say, it’s my cross to bear. Much like a dick a couple of inches longer than yours…”

“It’s not, Héctor!”

“Is too! We checked with Imelda’s measuring tape, remember?”

“... You did what with my measuring tape now?”

“We had a disagreement to settle, mi amor.”

“And we found it’s-- maybe an inch longer! At most! And mine is thicker, too!”

“Oh no, it was longer than that. Need me to refresh your memory?”

“We can arrange that, if you let me catch another couple of hours of sleep,” Imelda mutters, causing the squabble to die down. There is some grumbling, a few more shoves, but soon enough they’re all settled to sleep again, basking in the warmth and enjoying blissful silence.

For another fifty minutes.

***

“Oh my God!”

“Gah!”

“Wha--??”

Héctor barely catches himself before he falls off the bed, flailing his arms and only narrowly missing Imelda’s face. He reaches to turn on the bedside lamp, and sits up to look over to the other side of the bed where Ernesto is sitting upright, hair tousled, a horrified expression on his face as though he just awakened from the worst nightmare a human mind can conceive. 

“Ernesto? What is it?” Imelda is asking, concern plain in her voice. She puts a hand on Ernesto’s forearm and he looks back at them, eyes wide and skin ashen. 

“Oh my God, ” he repeats. “My mother has seen my Instagram.”

Ah, Héctor thinks. 

“Ah,” he says, mind already wandering to some photos that are probably not meant for the eyes of one’s own mother. 

“Oh,” Imelda repeats, clearly thinking the same. 

They succeed in staying serious for almost five seconds before Héctor cracks, and Imelda is quick to follow. 

“Pffft…”

“Heh…”

“She has been looking up my account for ages-- she even mentioned it, I had forgotten-- what if my father-- stop laughing!” his voice comes out a whine, and it’s what entirely undoes them. “This is serious! Stop laughing! I’ll have to look her in the eye when we go back for Coco’s christening! I-- uuugh!” Ernesto lets himself drop back on the pillow with a groan, covering his face with an arm. “I hate you both.”

“No, you do not.” Héctor grins down at him and, while Ernesto scoffs, he fails to say otherwise. 

“If she brings it up, I will dig myself a grave and crawl in it.”

Imelda snickers, leaning across his chest. “If they’re that terrible I don’t think she’ll want to bring them up.”

He pulls his arm off his eyes, frowning a little. “Not that I’m naked in those photos, I’m not an idiot, but I--” he trails off with a sudden intake of breath when Imelda’s hand slips beneath his nightshirt, across his chest. Héctor sits back a moment, watching them - Imelda’s tousled hair and the strap of the nightgown falling off her shoulder, the way Ernesto arches a little at her touch. 

It’s not the most alluring sight he’s ever laid his eyes on, but it comes pretty close - and it hits him suddenly, the realization that they have this again. It leaves a lump in his throat and a dumb smile spreading on his face while he watches Imelda lean in and kiss Ernesto’s lips. When they break apart, Ernesto’s breathing is quicker and his eyes wide. 

Imelda grins, and tugs at his nightshirt. “Since we clearly are getting no more sleep this morning, would you mind getting this out of the way and let me take your mind off your mother going through embarrassing Instagram photos?”

Ernesto is sitting up and pulling the shirt up over his head before she’s even done speaking, but he doesn’t get to take it off - not before Héctor moves suddenly to pull them both in his arms, and squeeze tight. 

“Agh!”

“What the--”

“Really?”

“And here I was trying to be seductive,” Imelda mutters, face pressed against Héctor’s chest.

“It was a very good effort,” Ernesto informs her, head still tangled in the shirt. 

“Thanks.”

“Unfortunately, you married an idiot.”

“Oh, like you didn’t stick to the idiot long before I got him to put a ring on it.”

“What can I say, I felt bad for him.”

“... You guys realize I can hear you, right?”

“No doubt you can, with those ears,” Ernesto mutters, voice still muffled by the shirt wrapped around his head. “Can you let me go now?”

“Do I have to?”

“If you want us to get anything done before Coco needs breakfast, yes,” Imelda says against his chest. “Now, if you’d let go and fetch the lube and condoms…” she adds, and Héctor is off them and across the room so fast he almost topples on the floor. 

With most of his blood flow already getting redirected in his nether regions, Ernesto’s power of thought may not be at his highest. However, as he gets the shirt off his head and throws it off the side of the bed, he does pause a moment to think. Or try to. Something is definitely different. 

“Condoms? Not on the pill anymore?”

“Not yet. It already failed, anyway, and I really am not ready for another little miracle. At least if the condom breaks we’ll notice right away.” She reaches up to brush back his hair, and leans against him. She is warm against his bare chest, her lips so close to Ernesto’s own. Her nails rake lightly down the back of his neck, and he swallows. “But it shouldn’t happen, if you know how to put one on properly.”

He makes a face. “Well, of course I know how to put on a--” Ernesto begins, and then trails off. The amount of blood going straight to his cock is making it very hard to think about anything else, but he’s not yet so far gone he can’t catch the meaning of her words. He stares at Imelda, mouth hanging open.

There are...few things they did not at least experiment with throughout the relationship, but at no point did Ernesto get to be in her. Not with his cock, anyway. It simply never happened, Ernesto would think, but he knows deep down that was not it. It was a line Imelda did not want to cross, the one that marked the difference between her husband and the annoying-- acquaintance -- friend turned unlikely lover. Something Héctor could have while he could not. Until now.

He should try and play it cool, of course. Get cocky and say he’s glad she changed her mind there, she has no idea what she has missed out on. Instead, he sputters.

“What-- are you-- sure?”

Imelda’s expression turns coy, a finger running down his chest. “Well, if you’re afraid to disappoint…”

What!

“What!” Ernesto huffs, crossing his arms. “For your information, I never disappoint.”

“Sofía told me otherwise.”

“Sofía should mind her own-- wait a moment, since when are the two of you on gossiping terms?” he asks, just a hint of panic making it to his voice as he tries to run the numbers on the amount of ammunition Sofía may have to use against him. Unaware of his worry, or maybe all too aware of it and hiding it very well, Imelda shrugs. 

“She ordered a pair of shoes and we got talking.”

Talking about what, Ernesto wants to ask, but before he can open his mouth Héctor is back on the bed and kissing his shoulder, causing him to trail off and his breath to catch a moment.

“Here,” Héctor smiles against his skin, pressing a condom in his hand. “Put it to good use, we have no others left until we restock.”

Despite the rising heat, his own quickening breath and the by now unbearable friction of underwear on his erection, Ernesto raises an eyebrow. “That busy, even with the baby?”

“Not really. It’s that Dante found the box.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, ah. The vet judged me the entire time. Not that he said anything, but--”

“... Surely we can have this conversation another time?” Imelda intervenes, tapping her fingers against Ernesto’s chest in a motion that is… a little more annoyed than seductive now. Héctor blushes a little, and gives a sheepish grin. 

“Heh. Right,” he says, and without warning he suddenly pushes Ernesto forward, causing him to fall over on top of Imelda. He barely catches himself, hands braced against the mattress, and almost protests - but then he looks down to see Imelda leaning on her back beneath him, head between his arms and hair spread across the pillow. Her skin is flushed, and ah, the way she looks at him. If one could bottle that look to sell it, they’d make billions.

“I can’t help but feel I’m terribly overdressed for the occasion,” she tells him, and starts unbuttoning her nightgown. She barely makes it to half the buttons before Ernesto’s mouth comes down on hers, hard. She melts into the kiss in a way he cannot recall her ever doing before, fingers tangling in his hair and Christ - Christ - it is almost worth the long months without them, waking up in his own bed.

Ah, it’s good to be home.

“Ah--” Imelda sighs and throws back her head while Ernesto’s mouth trails down her throat, to her breasts. He only stops with a startled gasp against her nipple when a pair of familiar hands pull off his boxers, and a very familiar finger begins to probe as him, slick with lube. 

“Oh, don’t mind me back here,” Héctor calls out, and Ernesto can almost feel the grin in his voice when he slides the finger in, slowly but without hesitation, getting another gasp out of Ernesto he barely muffles against Imelda’s skin. “Want me to put on the condom for you while I’m at it? You look busy,” he adds. His other hand closes on Ernesto’s cock in a soft squeeze, and he almost cries out.

“Christ-- don’t do that!” he pants, suddenly terrified he’s going to just come like that, before anything can happen. Héctor chuckles, but does pull back the hand. The other hand pushes in another finger, sending more shivers up his back. God, he’s shaking - this is bliss, never enough and yet too much, how can he possibly hold himself together?

“That horny?” Héctor asks lightly, as though conversing over a glass of wine. Ernesto snarls.

“I’m about to fuck your wife, what do you think?”

“Ah, good point.”

Beneath him Imelda, who somehow managed to unbutton the rest of her nightgown and shrug it off, laughs and forces his head back by the hair to kiss his mouth. He doesn’t resist - how can he resist? - and only lets out a noise of surrender. The finger within him retreats and Héctor is leaning across his back, putting the condom on him with surprisingly delicate fingers. His own cock presses against Ernesto’s thigh, hard and hot and already slick with lube. When he pulls back, Ernesto lets out a whine. 

“Don’t bother with fingers,” he groans. “I can take it-- por favor--”

A kiss on the back of his neck, just as Imelda’s mouth presses on his throat. She has a leg on either side of Ernesto, and his cock brushes against the warm skin on the inside of her thigh. It is only a soft brush, but it’s almost unbearable on heated flesh. He lets out a shuddering breath, and glances down to meet her eyes. 

Are you sure?, he asks without words, and Imelda responds just as wordlessly, pulling his mouth down on hers and arching beneath him. Whatever shred of self-control Ernesto had left is annihilated and he kisses her back, frantic, before pushing his hips forward purely out of instinct and oh--

He slides in so easily and for a long, blissful moment, Ernesto forgets how to breathe or move or think. There is only that tight heat, Imelda’s scent in his nostrils and her breath against the side of his neck as she clenches around him - the soft moan filling his ears and the nails sinking in the skin of his shoulders.

And then Héctor is bearing down on him, mouth on the back of his neck and weight across his back, pushing into him unbearably slowly and all too fast at once. Everything is too much. Nothing is enough. He wants and needs and yearns and yet it’s everything he could possibly ask for, and more. 

As much as he enjoyed the strap-on and Héctor’s ass, this might just be the best variation of Ernesto sandwich he’s ever had.

“Pepita got your tongue?” Héctor chuckles against his ear, settling deep into him, resting his chin on his shoulder and glancing over at Imelda. “You good?” he breathes. Imelda lifts her head to kiss his lips. Her skin is flushed, eyes half-lidded. 

“Oh, yes,” she says, and kisses Ernesto’s neck again. “You are thicker, I’ll give you that,” she whispers, perfectly audible to Héctor, whose chuckling protests are not very believable. Her hand cups Ernesto’s cheek, her fingers calloused from working leather. “Don’t worry about a thing,” she murmurs, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. “We’ll take good care of you.”

“Christ--” Ernesto pants, and manages to lift himself up on his elbows just enough to get some weight off her, and rest his forehead on hers. He’s so acutely aware of everything - the smoothness of her skin and Héctor’s chest hair against his back, her hand cupping his cheek and his chin on his shoulder, the heat around his cock and the cock in him. “I don’t know-- how long I can last,” he manages to admit. 

“Ah, don’t worry about that, amigo,” Héctor speaks, and tilts his hips, sending a jolt of pleasure up Ernesto’s spine and tearing a gasp out of him. “Wouldn’t be the first time. And we can do this whenever we wish…”

He says something else after that, or Imelda does, but none of their words makes it to Ernesto’s brain. They start moving in tandem, in him and around him and on him and beneath, and it is all that Ernesto can think of or feel. It is all he wants to feel right now. 

The moans that leave him are louder than advisable, with Coco sleeping just a couple of rooms over, but Imelda is quick to muffle any noise he makes with a kiss. Good move, that.

None of them is in the right state of mind to go soothe a cranky baby, after all.

***

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#pixar coco #hector rivera #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #coco #mind the gap

[womenstan]

I See You When You Run From The Light (within your eyes) - Chapter 3

Ao3 Title : The end of the line Chapter :

When he woke up, the first thing Robbe felt was warmth. It was all-enveloping, seeping through his every muscle. He felt so relaxed and at peace that he found himself wishing he’d never have to get out of bed. Just lay there forever wrapped up in the covers that were hugging him close. He snuggled a little deeper, trying to get a hold of the covers to bring them closer to his body, only to lay his hand on something far too hard to be silk.

Robbe’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he tried patting the surface, trying to understand what was thrown over his stomach, but feeling far too lazy to open up his eyes and be attacked by the sun rays.

“Why are you feeling up my arm?” A voice chuckled, deep, next to his ear.

Robbe startled, opening both his eyes at once, only to lay his eyes on the blonde body next to him. Sander, of course . He’d forgotten they’d both gone back to his place after the party last night, Sander insisting until Robbe caved under his adorable mimics.

Laughing, Robbe switched to softly caressing Sander’s arms, making him smile softly. “Royal secret. If I told you, they’d have to kill you.” He said, trying to sound serious, but ending up barely containing his laughter.

Sander snorted, playing along. “They? Do you have body guards then?”

“Oh yes, only the best ones in the whole country. From the King’s own personal army!”

Sander smirked, in that way that told you he was about to crack a joke he was particularly proud of. He lifted his hand up, bringing it on Robbe’s biceps, “Good, there’s no way you’d be able to defend yourself with such small arms anyways.”

Robbe scoffed indignantly, swatting Sander’s hand away. “Me? Small arms? I’ll show you small arms”, Robbe said, before launching himself on top of Sander, trying to immobilize him. Sander laughed, pushing back. They kept pushing at each other for a while until Robbe decided to show off a little.

In one swift motion, he got one leg over Sander’s hips, effectively straddling him and preventing him from moving away. Sander let out a small gasp of surprise and Robbe used that momentary confusion as an opportunity to grab both his wrists and pin them down to the mattress.

Chest heaving, Robbe smiled, lowering himself over Sander, pressing his arms further into the covers. Sander was panting too, even more so than Robbe was.

“Still think I’m too weak to defend myself?” Robbe teased, proudly.

While Robbe had been expecting more teasing, Sander’s face softened and he relaxed his body under Robbe’s. “I think you’re perfect.”

The fondness in Sander’s voice took Robbe by surprise and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. If it’d been anyone else… but it wasn’t. This was Sander and he was like this, always affectionate and saying things like this without realizing what they sounded like.

So, Robbe laughed, brushing the remark aside with a soft ‘idiot’, which only made Sander’s smile widden. He rolled off of him, laying back on the bed and sighing deeply.

“I don’t want to get up, like, ever.” Turning his head towards Sander, he added, “Can we just stay here forever?”

Much to Robbe’s confusion, Sander shook his head. “No way”

Getting up on one elbow and turning his whole body towards Sander, Robbe asked, “What? Why not?”

Sander didn’t answer at first, throwing his feet off the bed and onto the floor. He got up and turned towards Robbe expectantly.  When he didn’t hear any sound coming from Robbe, Sander threw his hands up in exasperation, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“ Because , Robin, I’m going to make you the best breakfast you’ve ever had”

Robbe hesitated, chuckling slightly in case it’d been a joke, but Sander seemed dead serious, extending an arm towards Robbe.

“Allez, come”

Robbe sighed, putting his hand in Sander’s and letting himself be tugged up. “Sander…”

Robbe’s whining didn’t deter Sander however, as he led them to the kitchen.

“Ok, get me a pan, some bread and, hm… Ah! Cheese” Sander said, dropping Robbe’s hand in favour of feeling around on the counter to find the stove.

Robbe squinted his eyes at him, slightly worried this wasn’t going to end well. “Sander… Can you even… Like, since you can’t…?”

Sander turned towards Robbe. “Since I can’t see? I’m twenty years old, Robbe, I’ve used a stove before. Don’t worry, just get me the ingredients, you’ll see.”

Still uncertain, Robbe walked slowly towards the cabinets, bringing one over to Sander.

“Ok, I’m going to trust you Sander, but if you burn down the apartment, I’m telling Milan it was your fault” Robbe added, only half-jokingly.

Sander waved him off, before starting the stove.

After a while, Robbe caught onto what Sander was making him.

“Croques? Really? Is that even breakfast food?”

Sander tutted him disapprovingly. “Robbe, everything can be breakfast food if you eat it at breakfast.”

“I don’t think that’s how this works Sander, but whatever you say…” Robbe teased, sitting up on the counter next to where Sander was cooking.

Sander sighed, reaching for a knife and cutting the first croque in half. He took it in his left hand, reaching it out to Robbe. “Stop complaining and try this”

“I’m not even com-” Robbe began, before being interrupted by Sander quite literally shoving the croque into his mouth. He made a noise of complaint, but bit into it anyway, determined to scold Sander immediately after.

Only, as soon as he began to chew, Robbe felt his taste buds explode with joy. The flavour was perfect, the crispiness impeccable, every single bite into the food felt like a whole experience of its own. Robbe couldn’t help but let out a very satisfied hum, making Sander’s face beam with pride.

“Good, right?” He said, clearly already aware of the answer.

Robbe finished swallowing his bite before he answered, sounding bewildered. “Good? Sander, I’m convinced this is the best croque ever made”

Sander blushed a little under the compliment, dipping his head downwards. “I mean, I told you I wasn’t going to fuck this up”

Robbe smiled, extending his arm to ruffle Sander’s hair fondly. “I know, I’m sorry for doubting you. My mind is truly blown right now. I’m going to force you to come over every day to make me breakfast from now on”

Sander only raised his head, softly letting out a “Anytime”.

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

The rest of his weekend passed by in a happy blur, his time spent between joking around with Sander and catching up on his homework. But, as all things do, monday eventually came around the corner, and with it came university.

In all fairness, this time, something else was exceeding his dread of having to go to class: the thought of seeing Noor.

She’d been texting him all weekend, but he’d managed to ignore her easily enough by staying busy. In school though, it would be a lot harder to avoid her.

The worst thing was that he knew he’d promised Sander he would break up with Noor. And it made sense: all they did lately was argue and get mad at each other. So, the problem wasn’t that Robbe didn’t think they should break up, but rather that he would do literally anything to avoid confrontation.

He hated it more than anything else. He didn’t want to hurt Noor, although he supposed ignoring all of her messages and calls was probably also hurting her. If he’d listen to himself, he would simply fire her a breakup text to get it over with, but he wasn’t that shitty.

So, while he was trying to gather the courage to walk up to her and get this over with, his plan was to avoid seeing her at all cost. The good thing about them being together for a while was that he pretty much knew her schedule by now, so he could try to take alternate paths to his classes or hang-out in different spots during his breaks.

It wasn’t exactly convenient, but it wouldn’t be for long anyway. Robbe was going to break up with Noor soon enough and then everything would go back to usual. Or, well, almost everything.

At least, that’s what he told himself Monday, as he had to take a five minutes long detour to get to his first class just so he wouldn’t run into Noor, who had a class next to him.

Coincidentally, it’s also what he told himself Tuesday. He was going to hang out with the guys in the cafeteria for lunch, as they had a common break. Only, as he’d made his way towards the cafeteria, he’d seen Noor exiting the girl’s bathroom and walking in the same direction. He’d quickly fired a text to the boys with a dumb excuse about having forgotten a textbook at home and ran the other way. He ate outside.

On Wednesday, Robbe had been determined to do it. He’d even drafted a little ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech the night before. So, he was ready, right? Except, he’d barely made two steps in Noor’s direction before he was stopped by Yasmina who needed him now , and ‘ no, Robbe, it can’t wait ’.

Turns out one of her friends was into Aaron - which, really? Aaron? - and they needed Robbe to subtly figure out if Aaron could be interested too.

“Yasmina, it’s Aaron . As long as she’s got two eyes and a heartbeat, I’m pretty sure he’ll be up for it.” Robbe sighed, trying not to appear as aggravated as he was. Seriously, did she need to have such a shit timing?

That led him to Thursday, at which point Robbe was almost convinced the universe was against this break up. He’d waited for her before his first class, but to no avail, as she didn’t even show up.

They had one break in common that day, around 1pm, but Thursday afternoons were reserved to hang out with Sander, and Robbe was not about to cancel on him just so he could break up with Noor. So, Robbe decided it would have to wait until friday, as he threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the library where he knew Sander was waiting.

Robbe stopped at the tiny student coffee shop on his campus, ordering for both Sander and him. While he waited in line, he quickly shot Sander a text message to let him know he was done with his class and on his way to him, smiling dumbly at Sander’s answering ‘:D’.

He’d been so busy between school, first trying to avoid Noor, and then trying to find her, that he’d barely had time to text Sander since the weekend, let alone see him. He was glad they could still honour their Thursday tradition, just the two of them hanging out without having to worry about anything - or anyone - else.

The barista handed Robbe the two cups and Robbe hurried to the table where he knew Sander would already be sitting, all of his books and material spread over the table. Sander would probably be hunched over some paper, drawing, that concentrated look on his face. He would slightly stick his tongue out, sitting in between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed and his hair falling in front of his face. Robbe had to admit it was quite the sight.

At first, Robbe had wondered how Sander could be an artist, seeing as he was blind. He’d always just assumed blind people had no way to draw, since they couldn’t see the paper, the colours or the drawing itself. Sander had simply snorted at that, before patiently explaining his method to Robbe.

He used mostly textured art, like pastel or paint. He’d draw with one hand, alternating between tracing the surface of whatever he wanted drawn and the surface of the paper with the other one. Robbe’s curiosity had pushed him to ask for a demonstration, and Sander had gladly obliged.

It was a fascinating process, and the respect and appreciation Robbe already had for Sander’s talent grew tenfold in the space of a single drawing. He’d just looked at Sander, moving seamlessly across the paper and found himself speechless. The only thought that came to him was that Sander was clearly in his element, that he belonged to the arts.

Still now, every time he’d had the privilege of catching Sander drawing, he’d been overwhelmed with this feeling of pride and warmth, watching entire worlds take form on the blank pages under Sander’s touch.

Sometimes, Robbe found himself thinking that Sander had the ability to make everything he touched turn into art. From the dull beige paper cup of coffee that could rival Albert Anker’s Coffee Drinking once it was held in between Sander’s fingers, to Robbe’s own pale skin that shined bright pink under Sander’s soft strokes.

Or the way he was stroking his hand through his hair right as Robbe walked up to him, pulling it back off of his forehead. That was true art.

Robbe shook the thought out of his head as he scraped back the chair next to Sander and sat down, slowly pushing Sander’s coffee to his hand.

“Robin! Finally!” Sander exclaimed enthusiastically, making Robbe chuckle.

“Missed me?” Robbe teased, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Obviously,” Sander answered, sending him a beaming smile

Robbe laughed, getting his books out of his bag and carefully placing them next to Sander’s stuff on the table.

“What are you drawing?” He asked Sander, trying to peek into his open sketchbook.

Sander smirked, closing his sketchbook before Robbe could properly distinguish the shapes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, huh?” He teased, making Robbe drop his head to the side in fond exasperation.

“Yes,” Robbe sighed, “I would like to.” He tried to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t help the smile slowly etching its way up his face.

“How badly?” Sander asked, his growing smile indicating he had a joke ready to go.

Robbe rolled his eyes, sighing loudly. “As bad as-”

“Robbe fucking Izjermans!”

Oh . Oh no .

Robbe whipped his head towards the voice, while Sander visibly startled on his chair, dropping his smile instantly.

Robbe mentally groaned when he saw he’d been right about who this voice belonged to. From the library’s entrance, Noor was storming his way, a visible scowl on her face.

Why was it that when Robbe was trying to find her, she was nowhere to be found, but as soon as he’d wanted a moment of peace, she suddenly showed up? What had Robbe done to get such bad karma?

“Noor,” Robbe sighed, “What are you doing here?”

Noor raised an eyebrow, coming to a halt in front of Robbe, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“What do you think I’m doing here? You’ve been ignoring all of my texts and I couldn’t find you anywhere!” Noor half-screamed, earning them a few dirty looks from nearby students.

Before Robbe could answer, Sander scoffed loudly.

“What? You got a problem?” Noor asked him, clearly offended by his reaction.

Sander sighed, bracing himself on the table as he got up to properly face Noor.

“Look, I get that you’re pissed, but Robbe dumped you. He doesn’t owe you anything.” Sander said, keeping his voice levelled, although Robbe could hear the hidden layer of frustration.

It took Robbe’s brain a few seconds to properly realize what Sander had just said, and when he did, it was already too late.

Noor made a surprised noise in the back of her throat, halfway through anger and disbelief.

“Dumped me? What the hell are you talking about?” Noor said, chuckling humourlessly. “Don’t mistake your dreams for reality, Anders.”

Robbe stood up at once, feeling all the blood drain from his face.

“Noor, come on, let’s talk in private.”

Robbe made a move to step towards Noor, but Sander’s arm shot up in front of him, barely missing his face by a few centimeters.

“Robbe didn’t break up with you?” Sander asked, turned in the general direction Noor was in.

Robbe didn’t know what hurt more, the anger in Sander’s voice or the look of pure disappointment on his face.

“Sander, look,” Robbe began, desperately trying to diffuse the whole situation.

Noor’s laugh cut him off, loud and obnoxious, clearly meant to irritate Sander. It seemed to work wonders, as Sander’s jaw clenched in response.

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up fantasies you’ve got going on in your head, Sander, but this is the real world. I guess you might be too crazy to understand what that is.” Noor spit out.

The words hit Sander the same way a punch would have. He stumbled a little backwards, dropping his arm. He turned around, hastily threw all of his stuff inside his bag in a jumble, picked his bag up and walked away without a word.

“Sander!” Robbe yelled, cringing at the desperation he could hear in his own voice. “Sander, wait!”

Robbe started putting his papers back into his own bag, determined to run after Sander, but Noor’s fingers settled around his arm, pulling him back softly.

“Come on, Robbe. Let him be, he’s not good for you anyway.” Noor said, smiling as if Robbe’s world wasn’t falling apart in front of him.

Robbe gave a sharp tug on his arm, freeing himself from Noor’s hold. He shook his head at her, feeling rage boiling up inside of him and threatening to overflow.

“You know what, Noor? We’re through. Over, done, finished!” Robbe yelled, too angry to find it in himself to care that the entire library was witness to their spectacle.

Robbe threw his bag over his shoulder and stormed towards the entrance, where Sander’s back had disappeared barely a few seconds ago.

“What the fuck, Robbe? Do you not love me anymore?” Noor asked, her voice high-pitched and frail.

Robbe sighed, turning back around to face her one last time.

“You’re cruel, Noor. You’re just cruel.” He said, voice tired.

He didn’t wait around to hear her try to convince him he was wrong and that Sander had somehow manipulated him, instead choosing to take off after Sander.

Robbe’s heart was beating so fast that he feared it might fly straight out of his chest. His mind was immediately going to the worst scenarios, telling him Sander would never forgive him, that it was over, that there was no point going after him... But Robbe knew better than that.

He knew that Sander was probably the best thing in his life right now and that he wasn’t going to let him walk away.

So, out he ran, the heavy library doors shutting behind him with a loud ‘thump’ .

Robbe looked around frantically, trying to spot a patch of blond hair in the sparse crowd of students, but to no avail. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging a little at the strands in frustration.

That’s when he heard a loud crash coming from the boys’ washroom, and something clicked inside his head. He ran towards the room, which warranted him a couple side-looks, but his attention was focused on one sole thing: getting to Sander.

Inside, there didn’t appear to be anyone. All the stalls seemed closed, and the general area was empty. As Robbe stepped further in, he heard a small sniffling sound that broke his heart at once.

He put his bag down against the wall and walked along the stalls, softly pushing the doors open. When he reached the third to last one of the row, the door didn’t open, locked from the inside.

Robbe sighed softly. “Sander?”

The sniffling stopped.

“Sander, please. I just want to explain.”

Nothing but silence.

Robbe leaned his forehead on the door with a small thud.

“I’m sorry, Sander. I really am. I… I should have told you,” Robbe began, unsuccessfully trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “I did mean to break up with her.”

A scof came from the stall, turning into a sob halfway through, and Robbe wondered if there was any piece of his heart left to shatter.

“Sander…” Robbe whispered, worry seeping through his tone. “I’m not lying. I spent the week looking for her too. I couldn’t do it over text, that’s just… I’m not an asshole. Or, trying not to be.” Robbe explains, “I broke up with her just now. What she said to you…” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Robbe shakes his head at the memory. “She’s so horrible. I’m so sorry Sander”

“Don’t be.” Sander’s voice came from the stall, muffled. “She’s right,” He laughed, but it was a bitter sound.

“Sander, no. She isn’t.” Robbe said, a little destabilized at Sander’s sudden lack of self-confidence.

He heard Sander breathe in deeply inside the stall, and Robbe prepared himself for the worst.

“I’m fucking crazy, Robbe, ok? I’m bipolar.” Sander yelled, but he didn’t sound angry. All Robbe could hear was pain, and fear. Just so much fear. “So, yeah, she’s right. She’s right and you should probably go before I fuck up your life too.”

The silence that hung between them after Sander’s declaration was heavy. Robbe felt suffocated under the weight, and he could only begin to try to imagine how Sander was feeling.

“Sander,” He said, keeping his voice low but firm. “Let me in.”

Time stood still as Robbe waited for Sander to make a decision. Seconds passed by, maybe even minutes, Robbe wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, forehead against the door.

Slowly, he stepped back, prepared to argue his way into the stall, when he heard the lock slide open. The door didn’t budge, but Robbe wasn’t mistaken. This was Sander’s way of letting him in, both literally and figuratively.

Robbe took a deep breath, slowly pushing the door open. Sander was leaning on the opposite wall, head hung low and turned away from Robbe, in an attempt to hide his distress.

Robbe slowly closed the door behind him, locking it, before turning back to Sander. The stall wasn’t big and with the two of them, the space was definitely cramped. Robbe took that to his advantage, merely raising his arms to be able to graze Sander’s shoulders.

Sander stiffened, but didn’t move away. Robbe took that as an encouragement and, little by little, wrapped his arms around Sander’s now-trembling form. As soon as Sander’s chest collided with Robbe’s, Robbe felt Sander’s entire body give up on him.

Sander hid his face in Robbe’s shoulder, body limp in Robbe’s arms. As for Robbe, he had one arm caressing Sander’s back in large, circular motions, while the other was stroking his hair softly. He could feel Sander shake through his sobs, but Robbe ignored the urge to make him stop crying.

Sander needed to let it out, and Robbe would be there for him, even if it killed him to see Sander suffering.

Robbe whispered a steady stream of ‘it’s ok’, ‘I’m here’ and ‘let it out’ into Sander’s ear, and slowly but surely, Sander relaxed against him and his sobbing subdued.

When Robbe felt like Sander had calmed back down, he took his chance.

“Sander, you’re not crazy.” Robbe started, making Sander snort humorlessly. “You’re not. Having bipolar doesn’t make you crazy, Sander. And it’s definitely not going to make me go away.”

Robbe tugged Sander back, just enough to look at him as he said, “You’re not some kind of monster, Sander, and you sure as hell aren’t ruining my life. You’re like, the best person in my life right now.”

Sander’s eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall, but the corner of his lips lifted up a little at that.

“I don’t care what happened between you and Britt, and I care even less about what Noor thinks of you. I know you, and I know that you’re an amazing, caring and talented person that I want in my life for as long as you want to be.” Robbe said, all at once, like the words were spilling out of his mouth the same way Sander’s tears were spilling out of his eyes. Out of his control, filled to the brim with emotions, but, oh, so liberating.

Sander stayed silent, a thunderstorm of emotions hidden in the quiet. Robbe was suddenly glad Sander couldn’t see him, because he was pretty sure his face looked like an open book, and he wasn’t ready to confront what was written on it yet.

He didn’t know why exactly, couldn’t pinpoint what it was about this moment specifically, about Sander’s stare, but it felt like something had shifted between them. Like there would be a before this, and an after this.

Robbe smiled at Sander, stroking his hair one last time before unwrapping his arms from around him.

Sander laughed, wiping at his wet cheeks in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we had this conversation in the school’s bathroom.”

Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sander. I have all of my heart-to-hearts in school bathrooms!”

Sander raised an eyebrow, a teasing look on his face. “The empty paper toilet dispensers and the vague urine smells really do it for you, huh?”

Robbe tried to suppress his smile, keeping his tone serious. “Oh, yeah. Big time!”

Sander wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Robbe responded by giving him a light push on the arm. They made their way out of the washroom, while Robbe avoided the stares of curious students wondering what all the fuss had been about (and probably questioning the tear streaks on both of their faces…).

When they reached the front doors, Robbe hesitated a moment, holding Sander back with a hand to his forearm. Sander stopped, turning back in Robbe’s direction.

“Do you maybe wanna go hang out at my flat?” Robbe asked, cringing at how fast his heartbeat had gotten at the simple sentence. He never got anxious when he asked the boys to hang around, although he hadn’t done so in a long time. So, why was it that whenever he had to ask Sander to hang out, Robbe’s hands got clammy and his heartbeat increased tenfold?

Sander just snorted in response, which only served to make Robbe even more apprehensive.

“You scared me! Of course, I do.” Sander said, now smiling brightly at Robbe.

Robbe wanted to be a little mad at Sander making fun of his hesitation, but he couldn’t help but beam in response, a comfortable warmth settling in his stomach.

They walked to the flatshare, arms locked at the crook of their elbows (if anyone asked, Robbe would say it was to guide Sander, despite them both knowing that Sander didn’t actually need it).

It was a sunny day, and it would have been too warm for Sander’s leather jacket had there not been a chilly breeze flowing through the air. Robbe wasn’t much of a fan of warm days, but when he saw the way the sunlight hit Sander’s face, perfectly illuminating his side profile of a golden hue, he figured he’d like them a lot more from now on.

Robbe couldn’t make himself look away from Sander’s face, intoxicated by the way it looked under the daylight. From the curve of his nose, to the way his eyes glistened, everything about Sander’s face had Robbe in a trance-like state.

He did eventually turn away, after he’d stumbled over a crack in the pavement and Sander had made fun of him, asking ‘who’s the blind one, huh?’ Sander had only been teasing, but Robbe figured it might be smarter for them to have at least a pair of eyes on the road.

Once they reached the apartment, Robbe didn’t even have to unlock the door to know that everyone was home. The sounds of cheers and laughter came through the door and resonated all the way to the staircase, warming Robbe’s heart instantly.

He barely had time to open the door and usher Sander in, before he was attacked by a swarm of bodies.

“Milan, you’re kind of crushing me” Robbe croaked out, the strength of Milan’s hug pressing all of his internal organs together painfully.

Milan loosened his arms immediately and stepped back, an apologetic smile on his face.

“So, what? Robbe gets all the love and I get none?” Sander asked, with a small (irresistible) pouth.

“Sander! Of course you do, come here!” Milan exclaimed, practically jumping in Sander’s arms. Zoë followed suit immediately, eyeing Senne, who just shrugged before joining in. Robbe laughed, moving to take his shoes off before they could attack him again.

“Come on guys, don’t suffocate him to death!” Robbe said, which got him a snort from Sander in response.

“You’re just jealous Robin,” Sander said, winking. The group hug slowly dissolved, as Milan let out a ‘ooooh burn!’ that made Robbe shake his head, amused.

“Sure, I am. It’s not like I’ve hugged you a thousand times before already” Robbe teased, while everyone returned to whatever they were doing in the kitchen.

Sander bent down to untie his shoes, shaking his head. “See, that’s precisely it. I’ve got you addicted”

Robbe laughed, sending a small ‘you wished’ Sander’s way, seemingly unaffected, despite his heart that skipped a beat in fear at Sander’s words.

They navigated to Robbe’s room, where Sander immediately laid down on the bed in a star shape.

Robbe went to his desk and took his books out of his bag, while Sander groaned in the background.

“Sander? You ok there?” Robbe asked, stifling a laugh, his back to Sander.

Sander sighed, hard. “Yeah, but I hope you realize that I’m never leaving your bed again. I’ve melted into the mattress.”

Robbe threw him a glance, seeing Sander had somehow snaked his way under the cover.

“Suit yourself, just don’t steal all the blankets,” Robbe answered, to which Sander scoffed.

“I would never do that! I’ll have you know that I’m a perfect blanket gentleman.”

Robbe hummed, sitting down to start working on his essay. He was quickly bored though, and with Sander in his room, Robbe didn’t really feel like slaving away doing homework. He turned to face Sander, only to find him fast asleep, his mouth open and squished against the pillow.  

Robbe chuckled under his breath, getting up to take a closer look. Once he got within reach of Sander, he slowly caressed his hair. The gesture made Sander frown a little, before he buried himself closer to the pillow, sighing happily.

Robbe smiled fondly, before moving away and to the end of the bed. He still didn’t feel like working on his homework, so he grabbed his controller and decided to game until Sander woke up from his impromptu nap.

After his third loss in a row, Robbe threw his controller aside and figured he was too out of it to keep playing. Looking at his phone, he saw that Sander had been out for a little over thirty minutes, so Robbe figured he might as well join him.

Taking his hoodie off, he walked to the other side of the bed in his shirt and jeans. He laid down next to Sander, who had turned to face Robbe’s way at some point in the past half hour.

When he was awake, Sander’s face always transpired a panoply of emotions. Even his eyes would glisten, darken and light up in the span of a single conversation. Robbe had always thought that blind people’s eyes wouldn’t hold much emotions, but he was clearly wrong. There were more emotions in a single one of Sander’s pupils than there was in most people’s entire face.

Robbe was pretty sure that’s what made him so fascinated with Sander’s face (because, let’s admit it, he was absolutely obsessed with it). He’d read somewhere that eyes were the window to someone’s soul, and while he was more inclined to think it was pure bullshit at first, since he’d met Sander, he’d come to understand the meaning of those words.

Robbe brushed a strand of hair that had fallen over Sander’s face, softly, trying his best not to disturb Sander’s peaceful sleep. Robbe didn’t know how to describe the swelling that overtook his chest as he watched Sander’s body raise and fall with each breath he took. He’d never felt this before, this peaceful yet gut-wrenching feeling that was filling up his heart.

There were a lot of feelings that Robbe had never felt before he’d met Sander. He didn’t know what it was about Sander that provoked those strong, undecipherable feelings that swallowed Robbe whole, but… He would be lying if he said he hated them. Whatever was causing this, Robbe didn’t mind. He liked Sander and he liked feeling like this, giddy in a way alcohol could never provide, yet rested in a way no amount of sleep could bring about.

He rested his hand in between his body and Sander’s, laying his head down on the pillow. He could feel Sander’s hot breath hit his cheeks from how close they were laying, but it didn’t annoy him. On the contrary, it made Robbe feel safe, content even, as he slowly drifted in and off of sleep.

His state of semi-slumber was interrupted when he felt Sander stirring awake next to him. Sander’s hand stretched and fell down on Robbe’s chest, which made Sander startle.

“Robbe?” He asked, voice still full of sleep.

Robbe hummed in answer.

“What did I just hit?” Sander questioned, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt around Robbe’s chest for clues.

“Chest” Robbe answered, chuckling at the concentrated look on Sander’s face.

“Ahhhh, all good then. Sorry for that,” Sander said, giving Robbe’s chest one last apologetic pat before rising to sit up. Robbe followed.

“Hey, what time is it?” Sander asked, sounding a little stressed all of a sudden.

Robbe looked around for his phone, finding it near his desk. “Hmmm, just about four, why?”

Sander rose to his feet so fast that Robbe feared he might fall down when he started swaying. “Shit! I have to be back home by four thirty to babysit, I’m so sorry. I promised my mom and-”

Robbe interrupted Sander, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Sander, it’s chill. Don’t worry”

Sander nodded, but didn’t seem convinced, as he chewed on his lips. He mumbled something under his breath, too low for Robbe to hear.

“What?” Robbe prodded, curious.

Sander sighed, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe I spent our time together sleeping. I’m so sorry, Robbe.”

Robbe sighed as well, but a little more tenderly. “Sander, I swear it’s fine. I slept too. Besides, we can always hang out tomorrow, once we’re done with classes, right?”

That suggestion seemed to enchant Sander, whose eyes immediately lit up. He snapped his fingers as if he’d just had an illumination, a smile spreading on his face.

"What? You look like you’ve just had a moment of genius.” Robbe teased.

“Even better! I’m going out with friends from uni tomorrow night.” Sander said, excitedly.

Robbe couldn’t help but feel his face fall at that. “Oh. Ok, I get it”

Sander shook his head. “No! No, you don’t. I meant to ask you this earlier, but forgot…” He took a breath, as if steeling himself. “Would you want to meet them? Tomorrow?”

Robbe was stunned into silence, staring at Sander, his mouth hanging open. Sander wanted to present him to his actual friends? He wanted to include Robbe in other parts of his life?

“How is that even a question? Of course I do!” Robbe said, getting just as excited about the idea as Sander.

“Yeah?” Sander added, his smile ever growing.

“Yes!” Robbe said, adding, “Since when do you even have other friends?”

Sander stuck his tongue out at Robbe. “Ha. Ha. Very funny, Robin.”

“Thank you, I think so too”

Sander grabbed his stuff after that, promising he’d send Robbe the address as soon as he’d be home. Robbe suggested walking Sander to the tram, but Sander declined, insisting he could get there on his own.

When Sander was gone, Robbe closed the door and leaned his back against it, slowly sliding to the floor. He was going to meet Sander’s actual friends. He was going to meet Sander’s actual friends! Fuck! Why had he accepted the invitation? This was such a bad idea, they were probably going to hate him and-

Groaning, Robbe lowered his head on his knees.

“Woah, there. Someone’s having a crisis,” Milan said, to which Robbe only grunted in answer.

“Come on, Robbe. What’s on your mind?” Milan asked, sitting down next to him.

“Sander invited me to meet his other university friends tomorrow night.” Robbe sighed.

Milan blinked at him, confused. “And?”

“And, I said yes!” Robbe half-screamed, exasperated by his own actions.

Milan chuckled, looking just as puzzled. “How is that a bad thing? It’s good that he wants you to meet them!”

Robbe groaned at Milan’s incomprehension. “They’re gonna hate me Milan! They’re probably all cool art kids and I’m…” He gestured vaguely towards himself, “not!”

Milan sighed, patting Robbe’s back sympathetically. “Come on, Robbe. You’re smart, interesting and super cute! There’s no way they won’t fall in love with you the second they see you.”

Robbe threw a glance Milan’s way, “Thanks Milan.”

Milan nodded, “Good luck! You’ll be great,” He said, getting up and walking away.

Robbe’s worries were far from gone, but he was glad that Milan thought so highly of him. If all else failed, he knew he’d always have the flatshare to fall back on. That was a constant Robbe was so grateful to have in his life, he didn’t think he could ever find words to express it properly.

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

The next day passed by so slowly that it felt painful. It’s like time had decided to mock him, by prolonging his suffering.

Robbe hadn’t registered a single word from his lectures, spending the hours looking back and forth at the clock, so much so that he feared he might end up with a torticollis by the end of the day. If the end of the day ever came, that is.

The second his last lecture of the afternoon was dismissed, Robbe had pounced on the door, practically running all the way back to his flat.

Sander had, as promised, texted him the address the night before. They were meeting at a local bar, nothing too fancy, but Robbe’s usual ‘jogging and sweater’ school attire would probably be too lowkey.

Robbe tried rummaging through his closet, throwing about half of it out before giving up.

“Milan! Milan!” He screamed, hoping Milan would be willing to help.

A second later, he popped his head into the room.

“You called for me?” He asked.

“Yes. Milan, can I please borrow something of yours for tonight? Everything I own is just… wrong” Robbe sighed, pleading Milan with his eyes.

Milan seemed to mull it over, before he threw the door wide open. “Of course you can! Come with, I’ll turn this pumpkin into a prince!”

Robbe laughed, following Milan around the house. “I’m pretty sure the pumpkin gets turned into a coach, not a prince.”

Milan stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to Robbe with a warning finger.

“Do you want my help or not?”

Robbe nodded vehemently.

“Then don’t question my Disney knowledge, Robbe! Flatmates rule #35!”

Robbe raised his hands in surrender, laughing, before Milan started back towards his own room, Robbe on his heels.

Milan did deliver on his promise, after all. Robbe was dressed in a nice long-sleeved shirt with fitted jeans, nothing too flashy, but classy enough to look like he’d put an effort into his outfit (which he, or rather Milan, had).

The bar wasn’t far from Robbe’s home, so he decided to simply walk there. He figured he could shake his nerves out on the way there, and, hopefully, be a little calmer once he’d reach his destination.

The breeze was nice, flowing through his curls. He had been smart enough to bring a jacket, in case the night grew colder as it got later. Despite the atmosphere and his precautions, Robbe couldn’t help the hammering of his heart against his ribcage. He felt even worse than he had that one time in second grade when he’d been called out in class to make a presentation about a book he’d never bothered to read.

Soon enough, he reached the bar, which seemed to be busy with customers. Robbe closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He tried to tell himself that everything would go smoothly, that Sander’s friends would like him, and that he’d get out of this alive and with his pride intact. If the shaking in his hands was anything to go by, he wasn’t very good at convincing himself.

He sighed, shaking his hands out, before walking into the bar. A radio was playing in the background, just barely covering the noise of the chatter. Robbe walked a little further in, immediately spotting Sander in the corner, sitting at a table with three other people.

Robbe took another deep breath for good luck, and made his way to their table. All three pairs of (functional) eyes were staring at him as he walked, more curious than austere, which reassured Robbe a little.

A blonde guy was the first to signal Robbe’s arrival. “This must be the famous Robbe!”

“Yeah, hi!” Robbe said, nodding in everyone’s direction.

Sander’s whole body whipped towards Robbe when he spoke. “Robbe! You’re here! Sit, sit,”

Sander fumbled with the chair next to him, making space for Robbe to sit next to him. Robbe thanked him, sitting down, trying not to be too unsettled by the looks Sander’s friends kept throwing each other.

Sander’s right hand came to rest on Robbe’s left shoulder immediately.

“Did you find the place easily? I think it’s pretty close to your place, isn’t it?” Sander asked, with the same considerate tone he took every time he wanted to make sure Robbe was ok.

Robbe figured he could probably sense his nervousness. Hell, anyone in a five mile radius who took one look at him could probably tell he was shitting his pants.

“Yeah, it was fine, don’t worry Sander” Robbe answered, smiling.

Sander smiled as well, more to himself, but Robbe still caught it and it made him feel a little more at ease.

Only a little though, because the same boy from earlier decided to clear his throat at that moment, making both Robbe and Sander turn their head towards him abruptly.

He had both of his eyebrows raised, and a knowing smile floating on his face.

“Sooo, Robbe, what are you studying?”

The night went on pretty similarly. After the initial interrogation, Robbe stayed a bit more silent, observing how Sander interacted with his friends.

At some point, Robbe was listening to a drunken story from one of the girls, Marie, while tapping the fingers of his hand on the table. He hadn’t even noticed the nervous tic, before Sander’s hand came to rest on top of it. Robbe’s eyes were instantly drawn to their overlapping hands.

Sander squeezed once in reassurance, and it made Robbe smile. Even in social situations like these, Sander always had a way of knowing exactly how Robbe was feeling, and exactly how to make him feel better. Robbe squeezed back, before Sander slowly took his hand back.

The night wasn’t much different from Robbe and Sander’s regular nights, in that Sander acted exactly the same way he always had with Robbe. When something really funny made him laugh, he would softly knock his forehead on Robbe’s shoulder, hiding his face as he giggled. When he couldn’t remember where he’d placed his glass, he’d lightly tap Robbe’s hand with his own, a silent signal that Robbe had long learned, and Robbe would silently pass Sander’s glass over to him. And when Sander felt Robbe become too antsy, he’d place his hand on Robbe’s bouncing knee, tapping fingers or shaky hands.

Before knowing Sander, Robbe hadn’t been used to touchy people, but now that he was, he found Sander’s small, mindless gestures calming, in the same familiar way that your childhood beddings or your mama’s hugs appease you.

After a while, the blond guy, Max, sipped the last of his beer, knocking it back against the table.

“So, who wants what? This round’s on me!” Max said, already pushing to get up.

Sander stood up at once, surprising everyone at the table.

“No! I’ll go. It’s my turn with the tab, anyway.” Sander said, sounding sure of himself.

Robbe furrowed his eyebrows, but said nothing when he saw Max sit back down and cheer Sander on. Everyone passed their orders and Sander repeated them once before expertly making his way to the bartender.

“How does he navigate so well everywhere?” Robbe asked out loud, to no one particularly. Max probably assumed the question was directed to him, since he took it upon himself to answer.

“Oh, that? It’s like his little superpower. Bring him somewhere once or twice and he’ll know the place by heart.” Max said, earning a few chuckles from the girls and a curious glance from Robbe.

If Sander was so good with directions, then why did he always let Robbe guide him by the arm? Robbe had never really thought about the fact that Sander could seemingly perfectly get back home by himself, but required Robbe’s assistance in the flatshare or when they went out somewhere.

His thoughts were interrupted by Marie.

“Say, you two are pretty close, huh?” She asked, her smile telling Robbe that her question covered a hidden meaning.

“Yeah, sure, he’s a good friend.” Robbe shrugged, smiling politely.

Marie and the other girl, Anne, exchange an amused look.

“Yeah, I bet you must be really good friends,” Anne added, laughing.

Robbe’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I don't get the joke” He said, a little annoyed.

Max sighed, like an exasperated parent. “Robbe, haven’t you noticed that Sander is a little…” He looked towards Marie, “touchy?”

Robbe frowned. “Yeah? He’s blind, touch is, like, his way of seeing.”

Max nodded. “Then, why does he only ever touch you ?”

Robbe could feel his features harden. He wasn’t dumb, he could clearly understand what Max was insinuating.

“He doesn’t.” Robbe answered, his tone sharp and severe.

Max smiled, as if he could clearly see through Robbe’s bluff. He held Robbe’s gaze.

“He does, though.”

Robbe thought back to all the times he’d been with Sander and other people. He did accept Milan’s group hugs, but even when he came over to eat at the flatshare, he wouldn’t purposefully brush his hands on Milan’s, Zoë’s or Senne’s. If they went to catch a movie with the boys, Sander would only ever lay his head on Robbe’s shoulder, curling up into his side. Even at Sander’s house, Robbe couldn’t remember Sander being so tactile with his mother or his sister. He always did stuff himself, and if he needed them, he’d call them out loud instead of touching them to get their attention the way he did with Robbe.

And tonight. Sander had kept a free seat next to him for Robbe. He’d touched Robbe, almost constantly in one way or another. But he’d never even accidentally brushed against one of his other friends. He wasn’t cold towards them, and you could see the friendship that was linking them together, but still… No touch.

If Sander was truly that tactile, then wouldn’t his childhood friend, Max, and his other uni friends notice he’s tactile as well?

So, if Sander was only ever tactile with Robbe, then why? Was it funny to him? Did Sander think he could try and see what he could do, how far he could go, before Robbe would catch up?

The befriending, the breakup, the mysterious past with Britt… Everything was making sense, now. Robbe had been played, hard. He didn’t know why, what motive Sander could possibly have to make a fool out of Robbe, but he’d succeeded.

Robbe felt angry, betrayed and ashamed. But most of all, he felt pain. He could sense his heart cracking and falling into tiny pieces, as more and more worries overtake his mind.

Whatever he had left of pride was holding back his tears from rolling down his cheeks. He got up, grabbed his bag and coat.

“I... I have to go.” Robbe told the group of three, hurrying towards the entrance like his life depended on it (and at the moment, he felt like it truly did).

He slammed the door open, stepping outside as the first tear streamed down his face. He tried to wipe it away, but it only got replaced with even more tears. He walked down the small steps and leaned against the wall, his head tilted to the sky.

He was furious. He wanted nothing more than to go back in there, make a scene and demand explanations from Sander. But even more than that, he was humiliated. It wasn’t the first time he’d been made fun of, but this time, it hurt a lot more and a lot deeper. What he felt with Sander…

It’s true what they say, he supposes. Ignorance truly is bliss.

Robbe heard the doorbell of the bar ring, but he didn’t pay attention to it.

“Robbe? Robbe!” a voice shouted from his right.

Sander.

“Fuck off, Sander.” Robbe said, getting ready to walk away, but Sander was quicker in grabbing his arm. Robbe sighed tiredly, too exhausted and hurt to fight. “Let go,”

Sander shook his head firmly.

“No. No, Robbe, come on. I don’t know what they told you, but whatever it was, it’s definitely not what you think.” Sander pleaded.

“I don’t care, Sander. Whatever little game you were playing, I hope you had your fun. I’m out.” Robbe said, trying, unsuccessfully, to shake his arm out of Sander’s grasp. “Let me go, Sander!”

“Robbe, Robbe, listen to me. Please. I wasn’t playing any game, I swear, I can explain. Please.” Sander was practically begging, and Robbe could see tears forming in his eyes. He turned his head away.

“Let go,” was all Robbe said, trying to appear cold and composed.

Sander loosened his grip, and Robbe thought he’d finally listened.

A second later, Sander’s hands were cupping his face. Another second later, and Sander’s lips were on his.

Robbe was frozen in place at first, his brain unable to process everything that was happening.

The warmth from Sander’s hands on Robbe’s cold, wet, cheeks. The warmth of Sander’s mouth against his own. The explosion of heat pooling in his stomach. The explosion in his own brain.

Sander was… Kissing him?

Robbe brought his hands up to Sander’s shoulders, pushing him back. He felt a little bad when he saw Sander stumble backwards, not realizing how hard he had pushed him away.

“Sander… I…” Robbe started, unable to form a single coherent thought.

“I like you, Robbe. A lot. A lot more than other people. So, that’s why. I wasn’t playing you.” Sander said, a sad smile dancing on his lips.

Robbe took a small, tentative step back. He could feel his body shaking, badly, as if the temperature had suddenly dropped well under zero.

“Sander… I don’t… I’m not…” He swallowed painfully, “I don’t like you, not like that .”

The word was said with a bit more venom than Robbe had been shooting for, and he could see the second it hit Sander.

Sander’s face crumpled, as he whispered a small, desperate, “What?”

Robbe tried to breathe in, but even his breathing was shaky. “I’m so sorry, Sander. I’m… I have to go. I just… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Robbe threw Sander one last apologetic look, turning on his heels and walking away.

The last thing he heard were Sander’s first sobs. His own followed soon after.

As soon as Robbe turned the corner, he let his tears flow freely as he took off in a run. He didn’t even know where he was going, or where he was, but he didn’t care.

His whole world had just fallen apart and the most important person in his life was gone.

#wtfock #wtfock fic #drijzermans #sobbe #I see you when you run from the light (within your eyes) #IT'S HERE KIDS

[drariellevalentine]

Can you do one shot for Ethan and Arrielle having a day off, maybe goin somewhere and or doing something mundane.

Ookay... here’s to my attempt at a one-shot!

Autumn Delight

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Rating:- Teen (reference to mature situations) other than that TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF

This is a submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge for the prompt Wonderful.

@wackydrabbles for the prompt “I won’t forget this.”

@choicesweeklychallenge for the prompt “You sure about that?”

Yes, don’t judge, I hit three birds with one stone.

Preview:- “The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.

General PoV:-

Spiraling streams of sunlight wash over Arielle as she turns around in bed. Or to be precise, his bed. “Good morning handsome…”, she says with a yawn.

“Good afternoon, beautiful...”, Ethan corrects with a smile.

Arielle shoots up out of bed, clad in a lavender lace top, hair like a bird’s nest. “Afternoon?! I’m late for work! Zaid is going to kill me!” Arielle scrambles out of bed and runs around the room in an attempt to find her clothes. Ethan chuckles, “What are you even doing?”

“Ethan, as much as I love your sexy morning voice, now is not the time! You might be Dr. Ethan Freaking Ramsey who can waltz in at any time but I’m still a resident!” Ethan watches the very amusing spectacle of Arielle getting dressed.

“Are you seriously laughing right now?!”, Arielle half-shouts as she tries to tame her hair.

“Well, I mean you don’t have work today. And to be honest, it is quite amusing.”

Arielle’s eyes go wide as she groans, “I forgot today was my day-off.”

“I figured.”, Ethan says as he gestures to her form. “Now come here..” Ethan lunges for Arielle, attackling her with tickles.

“Ethan! Stop! I’m hungry!”

“I’ll make whatever you want later...”, he replies before kissing her deeply,

“No! I want pancakes and I know for a fact you can’t make them.”

Hearing this, Ethan suddenly sits up looking at her with a raising eyebrow. “How did you”- Arielle smirks, “A girl’s gotta have a few secrets.”

“My dad told you, didn’t he?”

Arielle grins proudly, “He let it slip when I met him for the first time. Now, get ready. I want pancakes.” She gets up and walks towards the door when suddenly an arm loops around her waist, pulling her back. “Eeeeek!”

“And where do you think you’re going?”, Ethan asks as he spins her around to face him.

“To take a shower.”

“Well, I’m going to take one too.”

“Okay, so what?”

“We don’t want to waste water, do we?” Arielle rolls her eyes. “Oh really, you’re rolling your eyes at me?” Without missing a beat, Ethan swipes Arielle off her feet, quite literally, and heads toward the shower.

“Ethan!”

One productive shower later…

Arielle’s PoV:-

“Now I’m even more hungry!”

“Now you’re complaining? I didn’t hear you complaining when I”-

“Okay! I get it! Now, can we go? I’m all dressed!”

Ethan turns to look at you, his eyes slowly widen.

You smirk, Well?...”

“You look perfect.”

“But where are we going?”

“For a world-renowned diagnostician, you really can be sooo clueless sometimes. We’re going to iHop.” Ethan stares at you. “Did you not hear me? We’re going to ihop! And maybe Starbucks after.”, you say with a big smile.

“Alright, Starbucks I understand but ihop?”

You gasp. “You don’t know I hop?! The only place for amazing pancakes, waffles and more?! How long has it been since you’ve eaten pancakes?!”

Ethan shrugs. “Maybe 7, 8 years.”

“You’re joking!....right?” He gives you another look.”Okay, that’s it! We’re getting you pancakes! No one should have to live without pancakes!”

“Okay, we’ll go and get pancakes.”

“Not like that! No one sees you like this except for me.”, you say defiantly. He laughs as you rifle through his closet in search of clothes. You pull out a pair of jeans, a jacket and a v-neck shirt for him. ”Wear this and meet me downstairs!”, you shout as you head out, leaving him no choice but to obey.

Ethan’s PoV:-

“Can I drive?” You turn to your right and see Arielle giving you her puppy dog eyes as she fastens her seatbelt.

“No.”, you reply without looking at her. You know you’ll succumb to those eyes if you look at them.

“Why not?” You can see her pouting from the corner of your eye.

“Cause I say so. Now, where’s IHOP?

“Fineee...only cause I’m hungry. And give me a sec, let me pull up the directions.”

20 minutes later, you’ve arrive at a family restaurant which is surprisingly almost full.

“It’s almost 12:30 and these people want pancakes?”, you ask.

“Yes, and that includes us.” Arielle drags you out of the car and into the restaurant.

“Table for two?”, a lady asks.

“Yes please!” Soon, you’re both seated in a small but cozy corner booth.

“A waiter will be right here with your menus. And if you don’t mind me saying, you both make a lovely couple.”, the elderly lady says as she walks away. You cant help but smile at the comment as Arielle blushes.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just us two, away from all the chaos at work…”

“Hmm. It is.” Just then, a waiter arrives and gives you both a menu each. You open yours and start to look at the different varieties when suddenly Arielle slides in the seat next to you. You don’t say anything but instead put your arm around her and hold up the menu. She snuggles into your chest as she looks through the menu.

“Have you decided what you want?”, you ask.

“Mhm! What about you?”, she replies looking up. You can’t but help smile at her.

“I did.”

“Would you like to order now?”, a waiter asks.

“Yes, I’ll have the Southwest Scramble and the lady will have the short stack of French Cremé Brûlée Pancakes.”, you reply.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

Remembering what she said about going to Starbucks later on, you reply with, “Just water.”

“They’ll be here in 10 minutes, sir.” Arielle once again lays her head on your chest, you won’t admit it but you like it when she does that.

“You know me so well.”, she says out of nowhere.

“I thought you would ask something like, ‘How did you know?!”, he says horribly mimicking your voice.

“My voice doesn’t sound like that! And I know you better then you know yourself.”, she replies with a smile.

“Can we take a picture?” Normally, you would said no but when it comes to Arielle, it’s just impossible to say no.

“...fine. But only one.”

“Yay!”, Arielle squeals like a child. One of the things you lov- like about her, despite being 26 years old, she still has a bit of childishness.

A waft of smells captures your attention. You turn to see the waiter bring two steaming plates of food, setting it on the table.

Arielle brings her plate towards her and takes a bite. Her mouth drops open.

“What happened?”, you ask.

“It’s hot!” You hand her a glass of water, biting down to stop your self from laughing. She quickly drinks half of it, and doesn’t notice you laughing.

“Ahh, that’s much better.” She takes another bite, this time waiting for it to cool down.

Arielle doesn’t say anything, completely focusing on her stack on pancakes. You chuckle to yourself as you take a bite of your eggs. It’s quite good. Both of you enjoy the peaceful silence between the two of you as you eat breakfast...or lunch. You know better not to disturb her when eating.

Arielle’s PoV:-

A good hour later, you and Ethan are strolling down Boston Common in search of a Starbucks.

“The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.” You roll your eyes playfully.

You smile. “Next time I’m teaching you how to make them!”

“I look forward to that. Now, what do you want from Starbucks?”, he asks as you both enter Starbucks.

“I’m ordering my usual fall pumpkin spice latte.”

“Okay, go sit in a table. I’ll go order and be right back.”

“Such a gentleman, aren’t we today?”, you playfully say as you press your lips against his cheek.

“Oh really, maybe you need a reminder of last night?” You can see the smirk on his face. You can feel your cheeks heat up, so you quickly turn around and look for a place to sit. A few minutes later, Ethan slides in the seat opposite you. You notice the bill has more than two drinks but before you can see it, he tucks it in his pocket.

“Hey!”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Order for Ethan!”

“Be right back.” Instead of waiting at the table, you decide to meet Ethan at the counter. Ethan turns around, two drinks and a mysterious box in hand. “I thought I told you to wait at the booth.”

“I thought we’d go outside and enjoy the weather. It’ll be winter before we know it.”, you add with a lopsided grin.

“Quoting me, are we Rookie?”

“Just observing, Dr. Ramsey.”, you wink as you take your drink from him.

You spend the whole afternoon with Ethan, strolling around Boston Common, taking pictures and posting them and doing all of that hand in hand, every single minute.

By the time Ethan drives you to your apartment, the sun is almost gone.

“I had a really nice time today.”

“It’s not often I say this, but I agree.” You burst out laughing, soon Ethan joins you.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

“I would like that.” He gets out of the car and rides up the elevator with you. It’s been almost a whole day that you spent with him, but somehow it feels like it was only a few minutes. “Goodnight Ethan.”

“I would say goodnight, but we both know sleep is the last thing you’ll be doing.”

“Smartass.” You kiss him deeply once again then rest your head on his chest. He loops an arm around your waist. You both stay there for a few minutes when a sudden voice interrupts you.

“You both just gonna stand there, or are you coming inside Arielle?” You turn around to see Jackie, hands on her hips. You smile sheepishly.

You can hear Sienna’s voice ring throughout the apartment, “Jackie! I told you to leave them alone!” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Ah, Dr. Varma. This is for you and the other doctors. Arielle mentioned that you all liked the cake pops from Starbucks.” Ethan hands her the mysterious box.

“Oh um, thank you.” Jackie steps back inside sheepishly. You can still hear Sienna shouting, “Won’t you all leave those two alone?! The two have had to wait for God-knows-how-long!”

Ethan laughs, “She really is quite a friend.”

“You gave Jackie that box just to shut her up, didn’t you?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, initially I bought the cake pops for you but I can buy you them anytime now.”

“You sure about that?”-

Ethan silences you with a kiss. “Mhm.” You both just stay there relishing the intimacy between you.

“I should go.” He nods. You walk up to the door but turn around just to say, “I won’t forget this.”

“Me either. Goodnight Arielle.” You smile as you head into your apartment, knowing that you’ll have many more days like today.

———————————————————

Author’s Note:- Hello loves! Hope you’re having a good day/night! If you’ve come this far, you’re amazing and thank you soo so so much for reading this mess of a fic. Sorry for any mistakes!

There will be a follow up post with some Instagram edits of what Ethan and Arielle did on their stroll so keep a look out!

Permanent taglist:- @nikki-2406 | @iemcpbchoices | @sizzlingcashherohumanoid | @archveexz | @deepikakkannan | @nishas-paradise | @maurine07 | @archxxronrookie | @adrex04 | @everythingchoices | @rivenni | @annekebbphotography | @mrsethanfreakingramsey | @jamespotterthefirst

Ethan x MC taglist:- @tsrookie | @starrystarrytrouble | @mysticaurathings | @caseyvalentineramsey | @alina-yol-ramsey | @openheartthot

Ask box taglist:- @aylaramseycarrera

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

Love,

@drariellevalentine

#open heart #playchoices #ethanjonahramsey #ohsy #ethan x mc #open heart fanfic #from the bottom of my heart #thank you for never getting tired of them #diyaa writes

[saxophone-playa]

A Bad Day

@thatonetranny

OK, I know this took a long time. sorry. I could explain why, but I don’t really want to.

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson

Fandom: Marvel

Word Count: 1760

Summary: Peter has a meltdown after Flash becomes the tipping point for him on a Bad Day. Ned helps, and irondad comes to the rescue.

TW: Meltdown, literally one cuss word

Peter enjoyed being alone. Sure, he liked hanging out with Tony in the lab, watching a movie with May, or playing video games with Ned. But being alone gave him space, space that the world didn’t want to offer, especially on Bad Days. Days when sounds were too loud, lights were too bright and anytime he tried to talk to someone they would brush him off or just annoy him. After days like that, being alone in his room with no one but his phone for company sounds like the greatest thing in the world.

So, when Peter woke that morning with the sun shining too bright and his pajamas feeling as though they could strangle him, he knew today was going to be a Bad Day. Brushing his teeth was a pain and he could barely swallow half an apple (he was going to be starving later, stupid metabolism). He immediately put his headphones in right outside his apartment door and started his walk to the bus.

The bus was surprisingly not too bad, yeah the jerky movements could be annoying, but to Peter they were familiar. A nice calm before the storm he knew. He kept his headphones on as long as he could, but the bell rang and the class had started. Off went the headphones and in came sensory input. He tried his best to focus and take notes while the teacher droned on about something he probably already learned with Mr. Stark. He’ll have to ask Ned for the notes later.

He was dealing with his Bad Day pretty well so far, he’s had all of his classes, except for his last one, with almost zero trouble. Ned even gave him his leftover lunch to help with his lack of breakfast. Things were going well, that is until Flash decided to be extra Flash today. Peter was grabbing the books he needed for his last class, gingerly picking up and putting down each one to make sure not to accidentally tear them up. When Flash came in and slammed his locker door and all his books fell to the ground.

“What’s wrong penis? Are you still being weird? I thought you got rid of that.” He said with a smirk, thinking he did something cool.

Peter could feel his blood boiling and itching. He just had one more class. One more. And then he could be on his way to his ro- Mr. Stark. He had to go to the tower today and work in the lab with Mr. Stark. That kind of just ruined peter. Yeah, he loved going to the lab and helping Mr. Stark, he would do that any day. But today? On a Bad Day? Why?

“Hello, Penis!” Flash started snapping his fingers in front of his face, and that was pretty much the straw that broke the camel's back.

Peter clamped his hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut and sat down in the corner of the wall and his locker. Luckily Ned had forgotten to give him his notes and wouldn’t have seen him for the rest of the day and asked his teacher if he could give them to him quickly before class started. He honestly wasn’t expecting to see peter in a corner in a ball with flash standing there looking shocked and almost worried for the teenager.

“Shit, Peter? Are you okay?” Ned tried to keep his voice low and quiet to keep from distressing Peter more.

Peter just shook his head.

“Okay, I know what to do. You told me like a year ago.” Ned started to recall the list Peter gave him after a similar thing happened last year at their first Acadec meet.

“First, look for the cause, get rid of the cause.” He looks at Flash and glares like his mom does when he interrupts her during a phone call. It’s enough to make Flash runoff, deciding that he didn’t want to be a part of the situation anymore.

“Second, block sensory input.:” He dug around in his friend's bag to find his headphones and hat to block out the sound and light.

“Three, try, and communicate.” He looks at his friend's face and hopes his teacher won’t be mad for staying out of class for so long.

“Hey Peter, you doing better?” Still keeping his voice quiet he manages to get a nod out of his friend.

“Do you want to go to the nurse?” Knowing the nurse will help him way more than he could.

“No.” came his quiet timid response.

Ned bit his tongue in thought and tried to decide what was best for his friend.

“Do you want to go home? To May?”

His friend once again shook his head and simply said “Work.” in the same timid voice.

Ned didn’t know what to do. He was supposed to take him to the nurse so she could help him, but trying to force him there could lead to an even bigger meltdown. And Mays at work so he definitely doesn’t want him home alone right now.

“Well, what do you want peter?”

Now, Peter is smart, like really smart. All A’s kind of smart, memorized Pi in the fifth grade kind of smart. You get it, Peter is smart. But, in situations like these all that smart he has gone out the metaphorical window and he reverts into what Ned likes to call The Lizard Brain. There is no thought process or best decision for what variables there happen to be at that moment. There is only: DON’T DIE FROM THE SCARY WORLD. So when he gives his answer to Ned's simple questions, he doesn’t think.

“Tony.”

Tony was having a surprisingly good day. He ate breakfast, did his morning workout, talked with pepper on her lunch break, and was even productive in furthering their new stark phone they are planning on releasing soon. Overall, a Good Day. Plus, today was a lab day with Peter, even better. Peter was the highlight of his day, any day. He liked having the kid around, someone to match his level of intelligence. It was easy having him around, he said what he thought most of the time and would appreciate whatever Tony said back. Sure he had his days where communicating was hard, they just learned how to work with each other when that happened.

He was just about to remind Happy to pick up Peter when he got a call from the boy.

“Hey kid, I was just about to get Happy to-”

“OH my god, hi, sorry sir, to interrupt you, but we kinda have a situation.” Tony was a little startled, to say the least when he heard the voice of a different teenage boy than the one he was expecting.

“Who are you? And what situation?” to say Tony was concerned would be an understatement. There goes that Good Day.

“Um, I’m Ned, Peter's friend. And Peter is the situation right now.”

“Hi Ned’s Peter’s friend, you wanna tell me what’s wrong with the kid?” hearing that there was something up with his kid didn’t sit right with Tony.

“Yeah, uh, something happened between him and a classmate of ours” -Did Peter get into a fight? He doesn’t do that. And if he did, it would be the other kid in the ‘situation’, not Peter- “And he started having a meltdown, -Peter, does he know what a meltdown is? He does? Okay.- and I was able to calm him down, but he can’t really go back to class like this. And May’s at work. So we called you.”

By the time Fred- Ned? Ned had finished talking he already had his shoes on and was heading towards the elevator.

“Okay, thanks, Fred. Tell Peter I’ll be there to pick him up in about ten minutes and to go to the front office.” he hung up not even waiting for an answer. Getting in his car and he started down the road to go and get his kid.

When Peter heard Tony say that he was on his way he was able to calm down some, but not all the way. He could still feel the rumbling of the A/C below them and the hat he wore blocked out most of the light from the ceilings, but not the shiny floor of his school. When he stood up to leave the front office he swayed a bit on his feet, but with the help of Ned, he was able to get there without fail.

After a few minutes Peter guessed, Tony showed up with the heavy-duty headphones and sunglasses. Peter gratefully put them on and got up to leave. He waved at Ned hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble because of him and stepped outside.

The ride was quiet on the way to the tower but Peter liked it that way. Mr.Stark didn’t pressure him to talk when he didn't want to. The car had a more soothing rumble compared to the one in the school.

When they arrive at the tower Tony leads Peter to the couch, yes Peter remembers what he said about being alone, especially on Bad Days, but that doesn’t apply right now. He just wants to watch a movie with his father-figure, is that too much to ask for? Tony leaves to get Peter's favorite blanket he has in his room. “No, I’m not a dad, I swear” he whispers to the posters in Peter's room.

He sits down beside the spiderling and covers them both with the blanket. After a while when Peter is calmed down more he takes off the headphone and sunglasses and looks at Tony. He’s not looking at his eye but at his ear, eyebrow, nose, chin, and anywhere else except for the eyes, Tony doesn’t care, he just wants to know what his kids got to say so soon after a meltdown.

“Thank you.” he practically whispers.

“For what Underoos?” he matches his tone, afraid he’ll break something if he doesn’t.

“For helping me. For being there.” his speech is still a little broken up, but Tony doesn’t care.

 “You don’t have to thank me for that bambino. I'll be there no matter what.” Just like Peter does sometimes, he reverted into The Lizard Brain and he dared a kiss to the top of his kid’s curls. He froze some afterward, but after hearing the contented sigh that came out of the kid, he knew it was the right thing to do.

#irondad #spiderson #autistic peter parker #actually autistic

[honey-dewey]

The Unbearable Pain of Life Itself

Pairing: FtM Trans Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,385

Warnings: Frankie’s in pain from his period. Lots of tears, one mention of blood, nausea and vomit, and boy oh boy I cannot seem to write Frankie without making him cry. 

I just want an excuse to write the reader comforting Frankie okay? He’s had a hard day because of his period and all he wants is cuddles! Am I projecting? Yes! Do I feel any shame at this point? No!

Permanent taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

You knew Frankie woke up feeling like shit the second you rolled over in bed. How? Because he hadn’t left you coffee before leaving. 

Should that be a sign of health? Not really. But whenever you didn’t wake up next to your boyfriend, or cuddled up on top of him more accurately, he left you a cup of coffee and a post-it note with a heart on it as a way to say ‘I love you’ when he left early for work. 

Sitting up and rubbing your eyes, you listened intently for any sign of your boyfriend throughout the house, wondering if he’d only just woken up and needed something. He wasn’t in the kitchen, as you’d originally thought. No, if he was, there would’ve been more crashing around and the distinct smell of coffee, considering he needed almost three cups before he was functional. But instead of a clumsy, sleepy Frankie, there was nothing. No usual cup waiting for you on the nightstand, no goodbye text or note from Frankie that he usually left whenever he had to leave for work early. 

Flinging the covers off you, you realized exactly what was plaguing Frankie and why his normal morning routine had gone out the window, sympathy immediately flooding you as you crawled over the blood stain that was slowly drying on the sheets. 

Slowly stripping the bed of the sheets and blankets, you headed into the kitchen, finding a half made pot of coffee and clear evidence that Frankie hadn’t been in the right headspace when he left for work. The bottle of knock off midol that worked just as well as the name brand shit was sitting next to the coffee pot, Frankie’s truck keys were still on the key hook, and he’d somehow managed to leave both his glasses and his hat at home. His birth control pills were sitting beside his empty coffee mug, the ring of spilled coffee making you wince as you put the mug in the sink. 

You sighed. Today was going to be long. 

All morning, you texted Santiago, who worked with Frankie and had picked him up that morning. According to Santi, Frankie was a mess, slowed by his pain and almost losing his meager breakfast multiple times. 

Eventually, you two reached a conclusion. Santiago couldn’t make Frankie go home and rest. No one could. Well, no one except for you. 

Around lunch, maybe five hours later, when you knew he’d be at his worst as the pain pills wore off, you scooped up the midol bottle and Frankie’s keys, getting into his truck. It was a bit bigger than your car, but was familiar territory for you all the same. 

Driving out to Frankie’s work, you worried about him so much you almost crashed. He very rarely got his period, considering the pills he was on and the extensive hormone changes he’d been through. But every six months, it was hell on earth for a week. He had every symptom under the sun, and they were all horrible. He was essentially bedridden for seven terrible days. Most times, he tried to power through it, but he couldn’t fight himself for very long. 

Pulling up to the building, you didn’t even bother locking the truck as you walked through the front doors. 

Santiago was with Frankie in the small break room, Frankie’s palms pressed to his eyes in an attempt to block out the headache-inducing lights. 

“Hon?” You murmured, crouching in front of Frankie’s bent form. “Oh honey, c’mere.” 

Frankie surged forward, blindly falling into your open arms. He shook, body trembling with pain, core pulling tight in regular intervals. 

“It’s okay,” you comforted, smoothing up and down his back. “I know, Frankie. Let’s go home, okay?”

A tiny whimper spurred you up, you supporting Frankie’s right side and Santiago coming over to support Frankie’s left as you headed back towards the front doors. 

When he was finally in the truck outside, Santiago helped you buckle him in before stepping back and waving. You waved back, handing Frankie a water bottle and the midol. “Two more Frankie.” 

He nodded, taking the pills and leaning back, breathing rhythmically, his left hand clutching your right. It wasn’t wisest to drive the truck with only one hand, but for Frankie, you bent the rules. 

Getting him into the house was a trip. It took twenty minutes due to the cramps and the headache and the God forsaken nausea, but he was finally breathing heavy on the couch, near tears but at least lying down. 

You wordlessly grabbed a few blankets and began to help Frankie out of his work clothes. He didn’t say anything or move much, only slowly thumbing over your wrist whenever it came near his hands and sleepily blinking at you as you draped the soft blankets over his body. You grabbed a heating pad, warming it in the microwave and placing it between Frankie’s hips. “Sleep,” you murmured, kissing his forehead and poking his nose. “It’s soup for dinner. Want a documentary?” 

Frankie nodded, the pills and the exhaustion from a night of sleeplessness finally crashing down on him and causing him to flicker in and out of sleep as you set up a few episodes of Our Planet to play. He liked the ocean ones the most, so you made sure they were first as you walked away from his slumped form. You slowly headed towards your office, fully intent on getting a few hours of work in before clocking out early. 

Two hours later, you sighed, leaning back from your computer and running your hands over your face. The documentaries in the background had been too distracting, so when you took a break to reheat the heating pad and check on Frankie, who was still asleep, you grabbed your headphones before shutting yourself back in your office. As you tugged said headphones off while scrubbing over your ears, you heard it. Sobbing. 

Immediately abandoning everything, you raced out of the office and into the living room, where Frankie was laying, collapsed on the floor in tears, shaking violently and hiccuping on his own breaths as he cried. 

“Frankie!” You fell to your knees, checking him over frantically. When you finally concluded that nothing was broken or hurt, you gathered him up in your arms, rocking slowly back and forth on the uncomfortable kitchen hardwood. “What’s wrong? Is it the cramps? The headache? Are you okay?” 

Frankie shook his head, still sobbing. “You-“ he stuttered, breath shuddering. “You weren’t. I thought. You were gone!” 

You stopped breathing, unable to exist beyond the pain in Frankie’s words. He hadn’t seen you, didn’t know where you’d gone, and for all he knew, you’d left the house completely. “Oh Frankie. I would never,” you breathed, smoothing over his hair. His hands, those damn shaking hands, gripped tightly at your shirt, as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

“Frankie, darling,” you said, feeling a full body chill racing across his skin and knowing his body was swinging wildly from feverish and freezing. “Let’s go have a bath.” 

Frankie didn’t object, allowing you to help him up and lead him to the bathroom. He was quiet, watching as you filled the tub with water and epsom salt. You left for a minute to grab a glass of cold water before hurrying back to the bathroom, not wanting to leave Frankie for any longer than you had to. 

The entire time you and Frankie lounged in the tub together, your back against his chest, he was calm. Much calmer than he’d been earlier, so you could only assume the pills were starting to touch his pain. 

Eventually, after both yours and his fingers had turned pruney and Frankie smelled like epsom salt and lavender soap, you hauled him out of the tub. He yawned, grinning sleepily as you handed him a warm towel and his favorite old pyjamas. So yes, the pills were finally working if Frankie was actually smiling. 

“Nap time?” He asked as he shuffled after you into the living room. 

“Snack time,” you corrected, grabbing one of the everything bagels Will had dropped off the other day and slicing it. “At least half of this, and then we can nap.” 

Frankie pouted, but waited patiently for you to toast and butter the bagel. Usually, he insisted on a load of cream cheese, but his stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it right now. Hell, you even were hesitant to use too much butter. 

You made yourself a bagel as well, also only using butter. When both were done, you and Frankie cuddled up on the couch and continued the documentary he’d been watching earlier. It was about sharks, something Frankie was surprisingly eager to watch. He absently ate the required half a bagel before he slumped against your side and then scooted down so he could lay his head in your lap. You smiled, humming Billy Joel and eating the other half of his bagel, knowing he probably wouldn’t. 

About halfway through the Disney nature Oceans documentary, you felt Frankie shift. He rolled to his side, then to his back, and then sat up and bolted for the bathroom. 

You paused the TV, following after Frankie with matching urgency. As he threw up the half a bagel he’d eaten, you rubbed his back, just waiting for it to be over. 

When he finally sat back, he was sweaty and panting, eyes full of tears. You sighed, handing him a cup of water. “Drink. You need to rehydrate.” 

Frankie nodded, accepting the water and taking small sips, slowly draining the cup over the course of a very agonizing forty five minutes, during which Frankie almost threw up again twice. 

When it seemed his stomach had finally settled, you helped him up and onto the couch once more. 

He was exhausted, immediately cocooning himself in the blankets and falling asleep again. You didn’t even bother with the documentary, instead grabbing an old book and reading out loud in an effort to keep Frankie asleep. 

The book wasn’t a favorite of yours, but Frankie really liked it, so you indulged him. Eventually, when it seemed he was well and truly asleep, you detangled yourself from him, getting up to grab two cans of soup from the cabinet and putting Frankie’s heating pad through the microwave again. Normally, you’d make the soup, but with how Frankie was, you didn’t want to risk being away from him for too long. 

Sure enough, when you sat back down, Frankie’s eyes blinked open slightly and he snuggled close. “Warm.” 

You smiled, the rasp to his voice incredibly endearing. “Mhm. I know. Here.” You pressed the heating pad to Frankie’s body, and he made a small noise of bliss. 

“What would I ever do without you?” He mumbled, sliding against your body and practically molding himself to you. 

Reaching an arm out to wrap Frankie in a one-sided hug, you shrugged, kissing his forehead. “I have no idea.” 

While he dozed, you texted the boys, who were all periodically texting you and fretting over Frankie. You gave them the run down, skipping over the more horrible bits. Will and Benny both wanted to visit, but you and Santiago decided that probably wasn’t the best idea tonight. Agreeing on tomorrow night, when some of the worst pain would be fading, you put your phone down and shook Frankie awake. 

“Huh?” He grumbled, rolling and glaring at you. “Why?” 

“Dinner,” you said, helping Frankie sit up. “The boys are coming around tomorrow, by the way.” 

Frankie shrugged. “Why do I have to eat dinner?” 

“You don’t,” you said, setting a bowl of canned soup in front of him. “Just drink some broth. Eat some of it if you can.” 

The rest of the night was spent on the couch, Frankie slowly drinking the broth out of his soup and you monitoring him. He didn’t throw up again, which was a blessing, and you were able to get a cup of tea into him as well before he finally asked to go to bed. 

“Sure thing,” you said, standing and stretching. Frankie watched, tiredly admiring your body. He grinned when you helped him to his feet, hands wandering, causing you to laugh. 

“Francisco Morales!” You scolded through your laughter, swatting his hand away from your ass. “That is rude!” 

Frankie pouted, his adorably crooked grin returning within seconds. “I’m in pain babe. Indulge me.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling and helping Frankie into the bathroom. “I washed the sheets from last night,” you said, handing him his toothbrush. “And you are absolutely calling in sick tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts.” 

“Okay,” Frankie said, sticking his toothbrush into his mouth. “I love you.” 

You smiled, wiping toothpaste foam off Frankie’s face. “I love you too.” 

That night, you listened absently to the hum of the cicadas, cuddling Frankie, who was curled around you and his heating pad, his soft breath tickling your bare arm. He wasn’t asleep yet, but he was close. 

You took a deep breath, looking over Frankie’s head and staring at the moon, high in the summer sky. On nights like this, you cracked the window open to let the air in, with the precaution of multiple bug screens. 

“Babe?” Frankie mumbled, rolling a bit and pulling the heating pad out from between you. “You up?” 

“Yeah.” 

Frankie tossed the heating pad aside, making a face as it hit the floor with a heavy thump. “You good?” 

You nodded. “Yeah. Just can’t sleep.” 

“That’s not good,” Frankie mumbled, scooting around until his face was six inches from yours. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

You smiled, kissing Frankie lightly. “Go to sleep, Catfish.” 

Frankie grinned. “Ooo, busting out the nicknames. Seriously, what’s on your mind?” 

“Nothing,” you answered honestly. “You’re just super warm.” 

Humming, Frankie wrapped you in a hug, the absence of the heating pad making it much more comfortable. “Better?” 

You melted into his chest, tracing a feather light finger over his top surgery scars. “Much.” 

Frankie kissed your forehead, head falling back to the pillow as exhaustion threatened to overtake him. “Get some sleep babe.” 

Nodding, you moved Frankie’s arm so you didn’t accidentally cut his circulation off. “Right back at you Frankie.”

#Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

[d-ama-ien]

Take a Break

Summary: The District Attorney is sick, yet they drag themselves to work anyways. Damien convinces them to take a break, helping care for them after they agree to take the rest of the day off. 

Pairing: Mayor Attorney (Damien x the DA)

Warning: Some mentions of nausea and other cold symptoms

A fic for @fgfluidity 

Author note: It’s cold season y’all, take care of yourselves! Damien wants you to be health uwu

You know you're sick- yesterday your body felt tired, bone achingly tired, you weren't able to finish even half of the dinner you made yourself, and you passed out before the clock chimed 8, barely waking up to your alarm this morning. But, you're not allowed to be sick, not with the trial coming up, with all the work you need to do. So, you trudge through your morning routine, managing to make yourself look something like presentable, arriving at the office on time, as usual, smiling at the secretary like there wasn't a worry in the world. Just the short walk to your office had you exhausted, but fortunately, you could sit while doing your work, and then you'd be fine.

You were not fine. It didn't matter that the only thing you had been doing for the last hour was paperwork; you were exhausted, barely able to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Just another hour or so until lunch, then another 5 hours until you could go home, then another three days until the weekend, and then you could rest. For now, it was out of the question, and you page the secretary for some coffee before quickly changing your order to tea. Yeah, coffee wasn't the best idea with your stomach. Tea would have to do for the caffeine fix.

The tea didn't do much for your fatigue. It was warm, tasted nice, and it felt good to have something in your nearly empty stomach, but you managed to get through to lunchtime, at least. You sigh as the phone rings, not wanting to deal with a last-minute request for a lunch meeting or anything that would add to your workload, and accidentally let the phone ring through. Whoops.

It starts ringing again a moment later, and this time you force yourself to take the call.

"I'm sorry to bother you, DA. I know your lunch break just started, but the mayor has requested a meeting," You bite back a groan at the secretary's message, instead saying they could send the mayor in. You groan after hanging up, though- if it was anyone, literally anyone, else you could've said to claim you're busy and out of the office and that they could make an appointment for later. Yeah, that's not an option when it comes to the mayor.

Of course, the mayor isn't just the mayor; he's Damien, your dearest friend, and usually, you'd happily clear the day for him at the drop of a hat. Today wasn't the usual; you are sick and wanted to steal a quick nap during your lunch break so that you could push through the rest of the day. But, if Damien requests your presence, then your presence is given. There's a knock on the door then, and you prepare yourself before calling out, "Come in!"

Damien comes in, a warm smile on his face, though it falls slightly when he sees your face. He seems to know something is off, even though you had done your best to force a smile before he came in.

"Are you doing well, friend?" Damien asks, voice gentle with concern.

"Just a bit tired is all," you wave off his concern, gesturing for him to come in and sit. No reason to make him stand around; the cane only offers so much support after all.

"I'm sorry to pop in on you without warning. I realized how long it's been since we got to spend time together casually, and I know this is your usual lunchtime, so I figured we could go eat together," Damien sits on the edge of his seat, eyes trained on my face.

"That sounds lovely. Just let me grab my coat," you rise from your seat, having to pause and brace your weight on the desk when a wave of dizziness hits. Well, that's new. Damien is openly concerned now, standing and leaning on his cane as he puts a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Are you sure you're well? I wasn't going to say it, but you look awful," you figure you must look really bad for Damien to say something like that. He never says anything negative about your appearance, except for in university when he would be laughing about how terrible you'd look after a good party.

"I'm fine, really, just-"

"This is more than "just tired," you look like you're going to pass out!" Damien's grip leaves your shoulder, and he briefly rests the back of his hand on your forehead. You'd blush at that if your face wasn't already so hot. "You're burning up. What on Earth possessed you to come in today? Get your stuff; we're taking you home this instant,"

"Damien, I can't just leave in the middle of the day. I have work to do!" You protest, blushing as Damien levels you with a stern stare- the kind he uses when his staff acts up and needs to be reprimanded. You've always shuddered just witnessing it, but seeing it could never prepare you for being on the receiving end of it.

"You're just putting your health at risk by staying. How much work will you get done if you end up needing to go to the hospital?"

"Okay, Dames, it's a cold,"

"Colds can become serious if not properly dealt with. Gather your things now. You're taking today and tomorrow off,"

“Tomorrow?” He knows the case you have coming up, the work you have to do, and he thinks you're going to take a day and a half off?

"Tomorrow. Friend, your work will suffer if you aren't well. I know you have that case coming up, and doing this to yourself is just putting that at risk,"

You want to keep protesting, should keep protesting, but Damien is right. You and your work will only suffer if you don't nip this issue in the bud. So, with a deep sigh, you fetch your coat, obediently locking up the office and following Damien down the hall. He pauses to speak to the secretary, informing them you'll be out of the office for the remainder of today and all of tomorrow, on Damien's orders. You're glad Damien doesn't say the truth, that he's forcing you out of work because you're sick. After all, it would be rather embarrassing for the mayor to need to drag an ill district attorney home. Well, it was embarrassing, but only to you, as no one else knew about it.

Damien brought you to where his driver was waiting outside the building, quickly rattling your address off to the driver as you get settled. It isn't too far a drive, you live reasonably close to where you work after all, and soon you're sitting at your own kitchen table as Damien wanders through the kitchen, gradually collecting ingredients and cooking tools as he goes. He's taken off his jacket and vest, eventually rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he starts fusing with some of the ingredients he had gathered.

"Dames, what are you doing?" You ask, "You got me home, you don't have to stay," Damien looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, pausing for only a moment before continuing his quest.

"Friend, you were barely able to walk from the car to your table. There's no way I would just leave you here unattended. Would you even be able to cook for yourself?"

"You don't need to cook for me. I'm fine,"

"When's the last time you ate, then?"

"Dinner last night,"

"And did you actually eat a full meal?"

"Yes?" Damien pauses again, frowning at you, "Fine, no. I couldn't finish it,"

"You need to eat, so I'll cook for you," Damien sets a glass of water in front of you before going to the pot, starting to fill it with water and putting it on the stove.

"Drink that; with your fever, you'll need the hydration," he calls over his shoulder, ignoring your grumbling. The more stubborn part of you is a bit indignant at the treatment- you're an adult, a freaking district attorney, and Damien is instructing you on how to take care of yourself like you don't know any better. The more honest part of you is relishing in the attention because it's Damien taking care of you, sweetly looking out for your health and well being. You drink the water as you watch Damien work. He slowly added things to the pot, having dug up some veggies and herbs that you had nearly forgotten about, and adding those once they're cleaned and cut.

In a half-hour, there's a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you, Damien smiling warmly as he sits at the other side of the table with his own bowl.

"I had to improvise some of the ratios, so I hope it tastes alright," he says, sounding almost nervous. Is he worried you won't like it?

It's definitely one of the better soups you've had, not over seasoned but not bland like most foods made for an upset stomach are. You find yourself smiling as you take another spoonful.

"I didn't know you cooked," you say. The last time you had seen Damien cook was back in university- if that could be called cooking with the less than stellar results of most of his attempts.

"Well, I learned the basics from Celine before she moved in with Mark, but my staff does most of the cooking anymore," Damien explains, starting on his own bowl.

"I owe Celine a thank you. Last time you cooked for me, it's what caused me to be sick," you laugh slightly as you remember that "meal," using the term "meal" loosely, of course.

"In my defense, we were drunk," Damien points out, smiling at the memory. He's only smiling because he wasn't unlucky enough to eat it.

"Yes, and then I was suffering from food poisoning," he laughs fully at that, and you're thankful that at least a funny story came out of your misery. Damien finishes much faster than you do, but he sits with you and entertains with some more reminiscing as you slowly finish the full bowl.

"Why don't you go to your room and get in something more comfortable? I'll tidy up here and will be up in a moment," Damien suggests, standing to take your bowls to the sink.

"Dames, you really don't need to stay,"

"None of that, I always have time to be there for you. Go on upstairs," your protest dies in your throat when Damien briefly rests his hand on top of yours, squeezing gently. Then he's heading back over to the sink, starting the water and rinsing the dishes. You make your way upstairs, changing into a more comfortable outfit, resting on the edge of your bed after the effort of getting upstairs and getting changed. Damien knocks before coming in, always the gentleman, bringing a glass of water with him.

"I really don't need you to supervise me taking a nap," you point out as he sets the glass on your bedside table.

"I won't be supervising; I'm just keeping you company. You get settled in; I have to grab something." Part of you is embarrassed at the idea of Damien sitting with you while you sleep, but the other part of you recognizes the number of things he had seen you do in university and, well, taking a nap beside him was nothing compared to that.

You're laying down, just getting comfortable, when Damien reenters, carrying his briefcase in the hand not occupied by his cane.

"Do you mind if I sit beside you?" He asks, not even resting his hand on the bed until you nod. You glance over at him as he settles in, first noticing he was polite enough to kick off his shoes, then noticing his bare forearms, sleeves still rolled up from preparing lunch. He pulls out a file from the briefcase, starting to read it over while humming something under his breath. Damien's voice is rich and sweet enough when speaking, but his hums are like melted chocolate. You don't even notice how tired and relaxed you are until you're dozing off, asleep in mere minutes.

The sun is setting when you wake up, Damien's silhouette practically glowing with the late afternoon sunlight that hits him from the window. He's buried in another file, pen in hand. His other hand, you notice with surprise, is holding one of yours, thumb idly stroking the back of your hand as he reads, occasionally making a note. Now that you're awake, you should pull away, because this isn't proper- Damien's your friend, and your boss, but he's also so warm, and you're so comfortable, and you never want to let go of his hand. You shift slightly, drawing his attention your way, and you could die from how much affection is held in his smile as he notices you're awake.

"Ah, there's the little monster," he greets, and even though you're awake, he doesn't pull his hand away. You look down at your joined hands, Damien following your gaze- for a second, you swear he's blushing as he pulls away, but it could easily be the lighting.

"I'm sorry about that, you grabbed at my hand while you were asleep, and I didn't want to disturb you," he explains.

"Ah, sorry about grabbing you," you reply, a bit embarrassed.

"Don't apologize, I didn't mind," now that's definitely a blush rising on his face as he realizes what he said. You don't press the topic anymore; it's clear that he's flustered,  so you just roll over and reach your arms above your head to stretch. You slowly move to sit, grabbing the water off your bedside table, and taking a long drink.

"Are you hungry? I can heat the soup, or maybe I could make some pasta if your stomach is feeling better,"

"I think I could handle some pasta," you say, Damien nodding and moving to stand up.

"Take your time getting downstairs; it shouldn't take too long to have dinner prepared," Damien says as he packs his files and pen away into his briefcase, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his cane before leaving the room. You take your sweet time stretching and moving to stand. The water is boiling, and Damien is adding pasta to the pot as you get downstairs. True to his word, it doesn't take very long for the noodles to be prepared, Damien adding a bit of butter and a hint of salt and pepper before serving you a plate.

"Hopefully, it isn't too dull a meal, but we don't want to take any chances agitating your stomach even if it's feeling better right now," Damien says. The noodles are, admittedly, very plain, but it's also nice to have something a bit heavier in your stomach, even if it isn't a very exciting meal. There's less conversation this meal- you aren't sure that you fully woke up from your afternoon nap, and Damien seems content with the silence. It's quiet even after you finish, Damien talking and washing your plates as you finish another glass of water.

"Well," Damien starts once the dishes are set in the drying rack, fusing with his cane in a way that betrays discomfort.

"Well?" You question, not having enough context to prompt him further.

"I know it's a bit early, but since you're sick, you probably should be heading to bed soon," he says.

"Right. Would you want to stay the night?" You're not sure where the boldness to ask that question came from, your face burning with a blush as soon as you say it. Damien looks just as embarrassed but, well. He hasn't shut you down, hasn't proclaimed how immoral it is to even suggest that.

And then, "Do you really want me to stay?"

That's not the response you were expecting.

"I'd be happy to have you," while the sentiment was true, it was much bolder than you would usually be.

"Then I'd be happy to stay," your heart melts when he looks at you like that- if you were a little younger, a little more confident and naive, you would call that expression one of love. As it were, you knew better than to call it that, but it made your heart flutter nonetheless.

So, you end up lying on your side in bed, respectfully facing away as Damien removes his shirt and belt and his slacks. It was the only practical way for him to sleep, you had both agreed, but you wouldn't encroach on his privacy and observe as he disrobes. The situation was indecent enough as it is; there was certainly no reason to add to it. You're blushing as the bed dips, the covers shifting a bit as he slides between them.

You reach for the bedside table, turning off the lamp, plunging the room into a darkness that feels almost oppressive. You're hyper-aware of everything- his breathing, your own breathing, the warmth of having another person in the bed, the way the bed moves as Damien shifts. Then, a deep breath.

"Would you," Damien pauses, speaking quietly, "could I hold you?"

That isn't a question you asked a friend, you think, blushing at the implications behind him asking that.

"I wouldn't mind that," you answer, and your voice sounds too loud in the quiet room. There's more shifting then, a hesitant arm resting over your side, and you can tell that Damien hasn't fully settled, posed to pull away at any moment. So, you snuggle back, feeling his chest against your back, sighing as you let yourself relax into his touch. He relaxes a moment later, his arm a comfortable pressure on your side, breath warm where it occasionally brushes your ear. You fall asleep like that, his warmth almost painfully comfortable, and you have a blissfully deep sleep for the first time in ages.

The first thing you notice is how bright the room is, the sun much deeper in the sky than it would usually be when you get up. The next thing you notice is how much better you feel, no traces of nausea and barely tired. Then you notice that your bed is empty, and it's an incredibly disappointing realization that Damien had left while you were sleeping. But, on your bedside table was a glass of water, still cool, and a folded note with your name on it in curling script.

"My dearest,

I am terribly sorry to leave while you're still asleep. Unfortunately, I received an urgent request and had to go into the office earlier than I had been planning, and you needed the rest, so I didn't want to wake you. I left instructions for reheating the soup down in the kitchen, make sure you eat lunch and drink plenty of water. After work today, I will be stopping by check in on you, but you can call me if you need anything. Feel better soon.

Love,

Damien"

He called you his dearest and he signed the note with love, and you’re nearly swooning. You can't count how many times you skim the note, grinning every time your eyes cross his signature. Eventually, you manage to get up- you haven't had a proper day off in forever, and you fully intend to take advantage of it with a proper lazy day. And, at the end of the day, you get to look forward to your dearest, your Damien, coming home to you.

Well, maybe coming down with a cold isn't the worst thing after all.

#fg i hope you like it! #i tried to make it really fluffy #i want to snuggle with damien so bad #fanfiction #my works #mayor attorney #mayor damien #wkm damien #wkm the mayor #wkm the district attorney #y/n district attorney #i usually do first person and kept accidentally typing 'I' so i hope i didnt miss any lol #sick fic #okie i'm going to bed now i hope y'all have a good night #fortunately i was feeling very soft and very inspired today so this didn't take long :)

[shining-red-diamond]

Shallow Waters (Part 1)

Words: 2.5k

Pairing: Hendery x Brittany (OC)

Rating: PG-15

Genre: fluff, some angst

Warnings: mentions of abandonment, illness, and 

A/N: Banner credits to @dearyongs

Summary: When Brittany met a merman named Hendery, little did she know her life was going to change. Not only do they fall in love, learn about each other’s worlds, and create a life for themselves; but there’s also a mystery surrounding Hendery that could potentially put both of their lives in danger.

-

Sipping on her strawberry lemonade, Brittany was zoned into her book. The summer sun brightened up the beach in her backyard, a gentle breeze kept the weather cool, and she was relaxed on her lounge chair on her porch. Brittany hummed a tune as she read, a habit she had ever since she was young. In her mind, it was offered as background music whenever she read one of her books.

Little did she know that her voice had caught the attention of a certain inhabitant of the ocean. Hendery had seen her and wanted to talk to Brittany since she moved to an isolated area in the Florida Keys about six months earlier. Multiple humans had come and gone to where he roamed, but something about Brittany reeled him as if she were a magnet for him. He was a little on the shy side, but he had finally worked up the courage to talk to her. Explaining that he was a merman would be difficult, but he hoped she would understand.

As soon as she had walked inside of her house with the empty glass in her hand, Hendery took advantage of her distraction to sneak onto her porch. He was intending on standing there to wait for her until he noticed the book she was reading. The cover had gold lettering centered at the top, and an elaborate picture of a human boy in round glasses trying to catch a small, spherical object while riding some sort of flying object was printed under the lettering. Hendery couldn’t read human writing, but from the cover he could tell it was an adventurous story. He quickly flipped through pages, but there were mostly words. Only a few pictures showed up on certain pages.

As soon as Brittany returned outside, she immediately jumped at the sight of a strange, young man with jet black hair standing on her porch and flipping through her book. The shock caused her to nearly drop her drink.

“Who are you?” she asked him, keeping a distance in her startled state. “What do you want?”

Hendery tried to speak, but he didn’t know how to speak human either. He’d picked up a few words here and there, but all he could do was make little squeals and dolphin sounds and use his body to explain what he was thinking. The only thing he could get out was his name.

“H-Hendery,” he introduced himself as he pointed at himself.

“Is that your name?” Brittany asked, and he nodded. “I’m Brittany.”

“Brittany,” Hendery repeated with a smile.

She noticed the book in his hands. “Oh, do you like Harry Potter? I’m rereading the series.”

“Can’t read.”

“Oh…” she paused before changing the subject. “May I ask where you came from?”

Hendery pointed to the ocean, but Brittany just chuckled. “Very funny.”

He used his body language to insist that he was from the ocean, and by the look of sincerity on his face Brittany could tell that he wasn’t joking.

“Oh, are you a sailor?” she raised an eyebrow. Hendery shook his head.

He then took the book out of her hands, set it on one of the lounge chairs and had her follow him to the beach.

“Dude, where are we going?”

Once her toes were touching the edge of the shoreline, Hendery stripped his shirt and shorts off before instructing her, “Wait.” Before she could say anything, he was dashing to the water before Olympic-style diving into the ocean. An iridescent glow where Hendery dove nearly blinded Brittany for a second before he dolphin-jumped out of the water again. A flash of purple where his legs should be had sparkled in the sunlight.

Brittany couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

A merman? A real merman?

She shut her eyes and pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. When she opened them, Hendery was sitting there on the beach, staring at her with confusion on his face.

Brittany could see his tail much clearer now. It was scaly, and each one was a beautiful purple and gold monochrome that also turned black in some angles. They faded into skin where the bases of his hips were.

“There’s no way this is real right now,” Brittany chuckled. “I must have hit my head. I’m dreaming.”

Hendery shook his head, and whispered, “Real.”

If she had already pinched herself once, she did it again but without this man knowing.

When she accepted that she wasn’t dreaming, she knelt down and asked, “May I touch them?”

Hendery had never been touched by a human much less any female creature. He hesitated a little, but he obliged. Taking her hand, he set to where he figured his shins would be.

“Gentle,” he begged.

“I will,” she promised.

Her fingertips carefully stroked his tail up and down, and the scales were smooth as a marble slab table with the exception of the gaps lining each one.

“Mermaids are real,” she whispered to herself.

“Yes,” Hendery replied.

Brittany faced him and promised, “I’ll keep it a secret if you want me to.”

“Please.”

“Okay. Can you turn human again? I can get you a towel to dry off with and something to eat if you’re hungry.”

Hendery nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” she said before rushing back into her house.

Lying there on his side, he watched as her slender legs carried her when she ran. Every inch of her was sketched into his brain: her flaming red hair, her eyes the color of the sea, and an hourglass figure like a mermaid’s. Hender was an observer, and as much as he watched her from afar some days, Brittany seemed like a kind person just from her actions. If she really was the most beautiful woman in the world to him, then it was definitely coming from her heart.

Brittany soon returned with a towel and his clothes that were abandoned on the beach, and he sat up a bit straighter. She helped him scoot away from the water to dry off properly. Hendery pat himself down, as he had done many times before with any absorbent cloth, and within a few seconds his tail split in a vertical line so delicately as clay being sliced in half with an invisible knife. His tail and scales melted into legs and feet, but Brittany quickly handed him his clothes before she saw too much.

“Thanks,” he smiled as she turned away to give him privacy as he dressed himself.

After Hendery was fully clothed, Brittany turned back around and asked him, “Would you like to come inside?”

“Inside?” he repeated.

“The house. I’m getting hungry, so I want to eat something for lunch.”

“Food?” Hendery’s eyes lit up as he smiled, showing off his sharp teeth.

Brittany nodded. She had heard of some merfolk having such sharp teeth, but her new friend’s teeth were like sharks. They nearly startled her as it was such a shock for her to see.

She breathed deeply to calm down. “What do you like?” she asked him as she guided him to her back porch.

“Fish.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” she smiled as she opened the door. “I’ve got plenty.”

Brittany’s house was the most beautiful thing Hendery had never seen in his life. It was all so clean and tidy with most of the furniture having a soft navy fabric on some of the human furniture. It was his first time inside of a human house, so he took in everything his eyes could see.

In the kitchen, there was a wooden table with six chairs, and a large kitchen island stood right in the center (he had seen human billboard ads kitchen ware of some place called “Home Depot”). Two metallic doors were built into one wall, and a sink was placed beneath a window. The cabinets were also a beautiful wooden, and Hendery was impressed at how clean Brittany kept it.

“Pretty,” he mumbled as he sat at the table.

“All I have is salmon,” Brittany interrupted his thoughts. “How do you like them? I just learned how to debone and prepare them.” She set out a wooden board on the island and placed three raw salmon fish on it.

Hendery looked at the fish for a few seconds before picking one up with his bare hands and chomping down on its head with his sharp teeth. He ripped the head off in the process, a few fish scales sprinkling onto the counter.

“That answers that question,” giggled Brittany. “Raw it is.”

As he ate, Brittany fixed herself a BLT sandwich and a glass of the remaining pink lemonade. She tore off a couple paper towels for her new friend and herself. Hendery raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“To clean off your hands and mouth,” she explained as she gave a small demonstration, and he nodded before continuing his lunch.

Brittany observed the way he was chowing down on the raw fish. It was as if he hadn’t eaten in a long time, and seeing how loosely the unbuttoned shirt hung on his body she could almost make out a couple of ribs poking out from his sides.

“Thanks,” Hendery said as he wiped his hands and mouth with the paper towel.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “Don’t worry about the scales. I’ll clean it up.”

Hendery nods. His eyes then casually wander around her house.

“It’s not much, but I like it.”

“Pretty,” the merman repeated himself from earlier, now poking at the faucet. He jumped when water automatically showered out.

Brittany chuckled as she tossed her empty plate into the sink. “You haven’t seen much of what humans do, have you?”

Hendery shook his head. “Little.”

“A little.” Brittany thought for a moment. She knew he couldn’t form full sentences, but she knew he was smart. Hendery was curious, and from the way he observed everything Brittany could tell he wanted to learn. A light bulb went off in her head.

“How about this?” she said. “I work in the mornings, but every afternoon you can come by and I’ll teach you how to read and talk.”

“Talk? Read?” Hendery’s eyes were lighting up. No human had ever offered to teach him to speak a language before. Sure, he understood hundreds of languages, but for whatever reason he lacked the ability to try to form a proper sentence. All he spoke to his friends were by different voice patterns and ocean soundwaves.

“Everything,” Brittany promised. “Just come knock on my back door and we’ll begin.”

Hendery nodded. Taking her hand in his, he pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Tomorrow?” he begged.

“Tomorrow.”

-

It was a Friday afternoon when Hendery began his reading and writing lessons with Brittany. She was an excellent teacher as her college degree was in elementary education, but she stuck with tutoring young children who needed phonics and spelling help in school. Hendery was no different from them in terms of learning the different phonics, vowels, and consonants. The first lesson was just the basics of the alphabet and what sound each one made. Flashcards with pictures and the letter, such as “M” for milk, were easy for Hendery to follow. The lessons did get harder with each lesson every day for about a month and a half, but Brittany taught him that practice and application are key in having the lessons stick in his brain. Of course, he got frustrated whenever he couldn’t get a syllable or pronounciation correct, but Brittany pushed him to do his best. Before long, Hendery was forming proper sentences to get his thoughts across to her.

“Okay, so as a final test,” Brittany concluded after their final lesson one Tuesday afternoon, “tell me about an adventure you’ve had in the ocean.”

“What story does Brittany want to hear?” Hendery asked. He had grown a habit of speaking in third person. Brittany had taught him first and third person point-of-view, but he liked speaking in third. She didn’t mind it a bit.

“Did you meet any other mermaids or mermen?”

Hendery shook his head as his smile dropped. “Hendery was abandoned when he was small.”

“What happened?” Brittany wasn’t expecting his answer to be so grim.

“He was too small and weak. His stomach couldn’t hold down anything his father gave him. Only fish.”

“Oh…” Her fingernails tapped on the table in a rhythm. “So, they just left you behind?”

He nodded again, but a grin came back to his face. “Hendery became friends with the sirens. They took him in, fed him, taught him to swim, hunt, and to communicate through sound.”

“Sirens?” Brittany repeated. “How many mythical creatures are out there that are real?”

“The Kraken is not real. The only octopus and squids that exist are only slightly taller than a human man.”

Brittany was now curious. She had only grown up hearing fairy tales about the mythological beings of the deep blue, but she always brushed them off as nothing more than stories. Now, that Hendery had entered into her life, she wanted to know which ones existed and which were hoaxes.

“Tell me more,” she begged as she pushed the notes for the lesson aside. “I want to know everything.”

“Is Brittany sure?” he teased. “There’s a lot of dangerous ones that could be harmful.”

“That’s what makes it exciting, and I know the perfect spot for us to talk.”

“Where?”

“Come with me,” she motioned with her finger, and Hendery followed her out the back door.

“But Hendery and Brittany have relaxed here already,” he whined.

Brittany giggled and took his hand. “Not here, silly. We have to walk and swim a little ways.”

Hendery got excited and held on to her hand tighter as she pulled him along. It was about a three minute walk before they came close to a pier stretching out in the ocean. The pier was nothing fancy, just a place where fishermen could come relax and catch a meal. Most of the time, it was empty mainly because it was a more isolated area. However, the two jumped into the water (Brittany had stripped her clothes off in the house, revealing a royal blue halter top bikini) and quietly swam underneath the bridge to avoid being noticed by two fishermen throwing their lines at the end of the pier.

Once they were far enough, the two of them crawled out of the water and onto the beach area. They decided to just naturally dry off in the sunshine, but it was a little chilly as the breeze kissed their skin.

“Hendery and the sun will keep you warm,” the merman offered, seemingly unbothered by the cool winds. Brittany just nodded in compliance and allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist as they sat down.

Leaning back against his chest, she immediately felt the warmth he gave off. Not only was the warmth nice and comfortable, but being held by her new friend likes this made her feel good inside. She could feel her cheeks turn as red as a firetruck, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him to hold her forever, if he could. Hendery was discovering some new feelings for himself in that moment, and he knew deep down that he wanted to stay with his friend for as long as he lived.

“What does Brittany want to know?” Hendery asked, his voice cracking in shyness.

-

Tagging: @fantasywayv​ @ezralia-writes​ @queen-of-himbos​ @daybreakx​ @the32ndbeat​ @mafia-nct​ @philosopher-of-fandoms​ @neocitybyday​​  @dreamystuffers​ @jaekissd​ Let me know it you wanna be tagged or removed

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #nct-writers #kdiner #kpopscape #kpopficsnetwork #wayvwritersnet #nctcreations #neothestarsnet #nct #wayv #wayv hendery #wong kunhang #nct x oc #wayv fluff #wayv angst

[loganisanobody]

A Witch’s Family-iar

Sanders Sides gift exchange for @pippippippin - hope you like it! I don’t know if this is exactly what you meant by witches/fantasy but it is platonic DRLAMP, so I hope it’s okay. You also said fluff, but there is a slight angst to start it off and build the fluff on so I also hope that’s okay. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!~

@sanderssidesgiftxchange

Tags: #witches #bullying #mobs #dragon

There was the sound of the backdoor closing, and the quiet crunching of footsteps on dirt. Virgil could tell it was Janus by the sigh as he sat down.

"Something wrong?" Virgil pulled another weed out from behind the thyme.

Janus was quiet. Virgil looked up from his gardening.

The snake-faced man looked off into the woods, his face hard.

"Janus? What happened?"

Janus shook his head, looking down at the piece of grass he was fiddling with. "They called us 'witches' again," he said quietly.

Virgil blinked. "We… are witches, Janus."

"I know, but when they say it… it's with such venom it's a wonder they are not the ones with scales."

Virgil chuckled, and turned back to his garden.

"They made Patton cry."

Virgil stiffened.

"He… he went to help a lost child, but when they found her mother, she yelled, screamed at him. Vile accusations that if she even knew the slightest thing about Patton, she would never have said."

Virgil looked up at Janus. He had tears in his mismatched eyes.

"People stopped to listen, then joined in, until Patton was surrounded by an angry mob, who kept shouting at him even though he was already sobbing. He pushed his way through them and came to find me, just in tears. I had to guide him home, and we didn't get half the things we needed from the market."

"I'm sorry, Janus." Virgil couldn't think of anything else to say.

Janus finally looked at him and gave a small smile. "I am fine, just angry." He sighed. "I just wish they would see that we are human, too."

Virgil nodded and turned to grab his basket of weeds. "Where is Patton?"

"In the kitchen with Logan."

Virgil stood, giving Janus another glance. The snake-boy was looking off into the forest again. Without saying anything more, Virgil walked back inside, carefully stepping on the stone path through the backyard garden and taking off his shoes in the mudroom. He carried the basket of weeds on his hip as he continued inside, trailing his hand on the back of the couch in the family room as he made his way to the kitchen.

As Janus had said, Logan and Patton were there, Logan cutting some vegetables Virgil had picked earlier and Patton leaning against the counter.

"Hey, Patton." Virgil smiled at him as he set his basket on the counter across from Patton.

"Hi, Virgil," Patton gave him a timid smile.

"I heard about your trip with Janus. I'm sorry."

Patton's smile faded and he looked away. "It's… okay," he said quietly.

Logan put a hand on Patton's shoulder, then came over to inspect Virgil's weeds. "Yes, these will do nicely. Thank you, Virgil." He took the basket over to the sink to start rinsing the dirt off the plants.

Virgil walked over to Patton and gave him a hug. "Come on, let's go sit down."

Virgil led Patton back into the family room, and they sat on the large couch in front of the fireplace. Patton rested his head on Virgil's shoulder as Virgil hummed quietly. Logan soon joined them to wait as dinner cooked, leaning against Patton as he read a book.

Janus came in after a while, sitting on the floor with his back against Patton's legs.

All was quiet… until Roman and Remus made it back from the woods.

Logan disappeared into the kitchen to add the last ingredients Roman and Remus had brought, leaving Janus and Virgil to fill the twins in on the day’s events as Patton sat, staring at his knees.

Roman nearly knee’d Janus in the face as he got down on one knee and took Patton’s hand. “Why, of all the outrageous things I’ve ever heard!” he exclaimed. “I thought the most outrageous would someday come from Remus, but this, this is uncalled for!”

“Preposterous!” Remus chimed in, having picked up his morningstar and started swinging it at imaginary foes.

“Absurd!” “Crazy!”

“Insane!”

“Deranged!”

“Maniacal!”

Patton allowed a small laugh as he realized the brothers were attempting to one-up each other, and the twins stopped at the sound and smiled at him.

“Well, no matter!” Roman said, jumping to his feet. “Who needs them when you have us!”

“Yes! Why, today, we fought a monster!”

“A dragon!”

“Oh!” Patton exclaimed, which only served to spur the brothers on.

“Yes, today we came upon a large, dark, deep cave and we looked at each other and knew, as protectors of this family and these woods, we must explore!”

“We crept inside,” Remus continued, brothers tiptoeing across the room. “Among the moss and slime and crawling things we couldn’t see to identify.”

“There came a deep whooshing sound from deep within the cave, over and over, and we realized, as it came in and out, in and out, that it was the breath of some massive beast.”

“We continued on, until we heard clinking under our footsteps that we knew must be the jewels and gold of a dragon’s hoard.” “The breathing paused, then we heard the dragon draw in a breath!”

“We leapt out of the way as fire rained down!”

“And for a moment, we could see the dragon, and it was… colossal!”

“Gigantic!”

“Big and blue and standing in a pile of gold and jewels and crowns even larger than itself! I grabbed Remus and pulled him back out of the cave, as I realized we hadn’t brought our swords.”

“But the dragon came after us!” Roman nodded excitedly. “It charged out of the cave behind us, spewing forth red-hot flames.”

“Then,” Remus paused.

“Then,” Roman looked at his brother. Virgil caught the uncertainty in their eyes and he smirked.

Patton looked excited and frightened all at once. “Then? You… you didn’t… kill it, did you?” “Oh no!” the brothers were quick to reassure him.

“No, I bravely cried out,” Roman said, putting a hand to his chest. “‘Mrs. Dragon! We are so sorry to have awakened you! We mean you no harm!’”

“The dragon stopped and looked at us. She said, ‘Ah, you are the brave Remus and his younger brother Roman.’”

Roman playfully pushed Remus, who cackled. “I think she said, ‘You are the brave protector of the forest, Roman, and his lesser brother, ‘Remus’.”

Remus pushed his brother back, and they started lightheartedly fighting, making Patton giggle.

“What did she say then?” Patton prodded after a moment.

“What? Oh, right.” Roman collected himself. “She said, ‘I’ll allow you a pardon this once, but do not trespass again.’ Then she went back into the cave, and we continued on our way.”

“I thought you said you fought a dragon?” Virgil teased.

Remus waved a hand dismissively. “Semantics.”

Patton giggled again, and even Logan, who had rejoined them on the couch, cracked a smile.

Roman and Remus continued telling stories for a while until dinner, which they decided to eat on the couch, for obvious comforting-Patton reasons (though they often ate on the couch, for nearly any reason, but none of them would admit that).

Virgil carefully blew on a spoonful of stew before putting it in his mouth, watching for any errant drops of broth. He did not want to get any on his shirt, or the couch, or Patton next to him. He kept his other hand steady, holding the bowl of stew on his lap so that it didn’t splash all over his legs and give him burns and stain his clothes and waste Logan’s effort on making the stew…

Virgil shook his head slightly and looked around the room.

Roman and Remus were arguing, as usual. Something about the play they had all gone to see a few towns away the week before. Virgil listened to their argument for a moment, long enough to gather that they each had a different idea of how the story could’ve been better, how the actors could have acted more elaborately, how the sets were horribly lackluster. Virgil chuckled. The twins always seemed to agree on the things they disagreed on.

He turned toward the other end of the couch, where Janus and Logan were having their nightly debate. Tonight, it seemed to be on whether the stew needed something with a little more ‘kick’ to it, which Virgil thought was rather a tame debate for the two of them. He wondered if this would be a night where they had multiple debates, and then he wondered what the next debate would be about, and how long it would last…

Patton caught him looking his direction and smiled up at him. His tears had long since dried and his smile was genuine, which was enough to almost make Virgil’s ever-anxious heart calm for a moment. He smiled back.

Patton leaned more against Virgil and took another bite of stew, turning back to listen to Logan and Janus’ debate.

After dinner, they, meaning everyone except for Logan, cleaned the kitchen. Patton washed the dishes and Remus dried them, telling Patton yet more stories to pass the time. Janus put the remaining stew into a container and stored it away for the next day’s lunch. Virgil wiped down the counters and stove and swept up any crumbs on the floor.

With all of them helping, it didn’t take long to do the chores, and they quickly rejoined Logan by the fireplace.

It was dark outside, and the frogs and crickets were croaking and chirping. Virgil could see fireflies wandering past the window to the garden. As the darkness settled and the cozy fire and a few candles became the only sources of light, the sound in the house died down. The debates ended, the stories closed, and everyone contentedly sat watching the fire and enjoying each other’s company.

Remus was the first to fall asleep, snoring abruptly pulling everyone out of their thoughts. They all chuckled, and Roman kicked his twin in the back. Remus stirred but didn’t wake, and turned to his side and quieted back down.

Roman was the next to fall asleep. The brothers had been sitting close to each other, but as they slept, Virgil noticed them slowly creep toward each other until they were back-to-back (or, as Remus might say, butt-to-butt) on the carpeted floor.

Logan finally nodded off while reading his book. Said book quietly slipped from his hand and down his lap until it hit Janus’ back, as Janus had been sitting with his back against Logan’s legs this time. Janus carefully turned and took the book and set it on the couch-side table, then stood. He reached over and gently removed Logan’s glasses and set them on the book, then bid Virgil and Patton a good night and went upstairs to his room, where Virgil knew he would burrow into his mound of blankets and allow himself to drift off. Virgil briefly thought to hope that Patton wouldn’t take it upon himself to wake Janus up in the morning, as Janus’s tendency to ‘sleep with one eye open’ was rather literal and never failed to freak Patton out.

Virgil looked over at Patton, who blinked blearily at the fire. Patton, who would brave waking Janus up so he could get a good breakfast, despite knowing his own discomfort doing so. Patton, who would help Logan with his potions and ingredients, then gently make sure Logan ate and slept as well. Patton, who would listen to and laugh at Roman and Remus’s stories, even when they scared him or grossed him out. Patton, who loved to help Virgil in the garden and would cheer him up on sad days and calm him down on anxious ones. Patton, who was beautiful and sweet and kind and selfless…

Virgil slowly, gently pulled Patton down so his head rested in Virgil’s lap, then started carding his hand through Patton’s hair. Patton hummed happily and let his eyes finally drift shut.

Virgil sighed. Patton didn’t deserve to get yelled at and mobbed. None of his family did, but especially not Patton. But at least Patton had them, Logan to remind him of his virtues, Janus to bring to light the lies against him, Roman and Remus to praise and distract him, and Virgil to…

Virgil to protect him.

He may not have been there this time. But Patton knew Virgil would go to the ends of the earth to keep Patton safe, even from his own self-doubts. And Virgil would. As he sat there, twisting his fingers in Patton’s curls, Virgil silently promised to Patton, to all of them, that he would do all he could to protect them.

Thoughts of failure tried to plague him. Now was not a time for anxious, negative thoughts. Now was the time for Patton.

Virgil gently removed Patton’s glasses and set them on the table next to him, then, still running his fingers through Patton’s hair, closed his own eyes, and let himself fall asleep.

#long post #mobs #bullying #witches #dragon #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #ts remus #ts janus