#ive been so excited the entire week ITS SO GOOD i started it this morning ..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marktuansvevo · 3 years

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got7 reacts to something theyve never experienced before in a relationship

warning(s); slight cursing, sexual content in bam’s part

mark; being jealous

mark understood why his past partners could be jealous of him in his line of work. as long as it didn’t get out of hand, he thought it was cute. he was never the jealous one in the relationship. he didn’t even know what jealousy felt like....

....until tonight.

you were mark’s entire world. you excited him, you built him up like no other. never before could he see himself spending his life with someone before you came along. you made the world brighter to him.

but now he was only seeing red.

you had been a trainee and never debuted, which you weren’t too upset about, you had a boyfriend you loved and a career with less physical and time demands than being in the entertainment industry. this meant that you knew a lot of other bands, stray kids being one of them. chan was, quite frankly, your best friend during your trainee days, so when you saw him at this afterparty you were attending with mark, you threw yourself into his arms.

mark just watched you from afar.

and his blood boiled.

chan spun you around in his arms, the biggest smile on his stupid, handsome face. “yah!! y/n! mark didn’t say you’d be here.”

you giggled, trying to keep your tears at bay. you put your hands on his face, poking his dimples. mark scoffed at the blush that was forming on his friend’s face. “god, chan i missed you so much.”

“bro, you look constipated,” bam snuck up behind him. “dude, your face is so red right now.”

mark rolled his eyes. “these parties are so annoying.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you as you caught up with chan, who still had his hand around your waist.

bam followed his line of vision. “shit, you’re not constipated, you’re jealous. yugyeom, come look at him!”

mark walked away from his intoxicated friends and up to you. you smiled at him before returning to your conversation with chan.

“y/n, we have to go,” mark said lowly, smiling a sickly fake smile at chan, who immediately dropped his hand from your waist.

“why, baby, we just got here? are you not feeling good?” you asked. he wanted to feel bad, your voice was laced with concern.

“something like that. see you, chan.”

as you got in the car, you smiled at him, poking his cheek. “somebody’s jealous, huh?”

“huh? of chan? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he clenched his jaw, not making eye contact with you as he steered his car out of the parking lot. you were giggling now.

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. maybe i should make more time for chan.”

“y/n!!!”

jaebeom; wearing disguises in public

jaebeom never thought he would have to dress up in a disguise to go out in public. and jae would never want to put you in such a position. it was draining, and you, as his girlfriend knew that he despised it.

but you wanted to go to a concert with him.

and you wanted to stand in the pit with him and be part of it. don’t get you wrong, you loved when he bought you suite seats or could watch his shows from backstage, but you wanted to sway to ariana grande in th pit with your boyfriend.

“cmon, jae, i think everyone is going to be paying attention to ari. we can skip the opening act?” you suggested.

“y/n, i don’t want to take a chance...im sorry,” he pouted at you. you sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

“what about disguises?” he said. “like, we could wear our halloween costumes?” you were giggling to yourself, but your boyfriend seemed like the idea.

“i could wear my jesus wig and you could paint a beard on me?” he said with serious eyes.

“jae, you hate going out in disguises.”

“true...but, babe, this will be fun. you could wear your sailor mars wig, it’d be cute,”

okay, this was a really cute idea and you were warming up to it...if it made your boyfriend more comfortable to be out in a crowd of so many people, you were down to try it out.

“this really feels like halloween in july,” you giggled as you used mascara to draw a beard on his chin.

“do I look like jesus??” he asked childishly.

“well, you don’t look like im jaebeom of got7, that’s for sure,”

“you look like an egirl,” he laughed at himself. “don’t hate, you know you love it,” you said. “we look so cute, let’s take a mirror selfie and post in later,”

“no, then people will be on to us,” your boyfriend sent a pout in your direction as he looked at his makeshift beard in the mirror. “I look sexy as fuck in a beard,”

“super sexy aegyo please?”

the two of you arrived at the arena, not be noticed by anyone, but jae was still on edge, so you held his hand tight as you made your way into the pit.

“im so excited!!” you shouted over the noise. he shook his head before leaning in to kiss you. the two of you danced the whole night away to arianas crooning, his arms around you as you swayed to her pretty, soothing voice. the two of you let the world fade away while ariana sang honeymoon ave in the background.

jackson; his significant other saying ily first.

it was no secret that jackson was stock full of love and kindness. he had had other partners before you, all with him ending up getting too attached, or scaring them away when he said “I love you” too early.

he did not want to scare you away, and honestly, he had known he loved you two months into dating, but he didn’t want to scare you away, so he never outwardly said those three little words to you.

he wasn’t expecting you to say it, first though.

you had invited him over for dinner and a movie, just wanting a chill night in with your boyfriend. he brought the wine and promised to give you a back massage, so really, what more could you want on this chilly thursday night?

“what’s been going on, honey? you know you can tell me anything,” jackson whispered into your ear as he helped you out of your clothes.

“I feel like I deserve to oversee my department at work. i have the most education of all of them, more experience than them, and generally, I am more optimistic than my superiors….,” you sighed, letting him rub just under your shoulder blades, which had been itching all week.

“mmm?”

“i think they might be scared of powerful women who like to wear hot pink fendi suits to work,” you smiled, knowing he would be offended at your joke. you could almost feel him pouting.

“so the reason you can’t get the job is because your superiors don’t like the suits your boyfriend buys you? wow, what a way to hurt a guy’s pride…,” he followed your lead on the joke, trying to make you laugh because he knew this was really getting to you. “baby, I think you should go to their boss and see if you can get a promotion…tell them everything you told me, okay? i know you’re not only the best woman for the job, but the best person for the job…period,” he said, making you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. none of your previous partners had ever revered you the way jackson had. you felt so incredibly blessed and in love, you couldn’t help yourself.

“god, jackson, I love you so much,” you whispered.

the movement of his soft hands on your back stopped abruptly at your words. ‘oh god, was it too early to say that?’

“j-jackson…im sorry-“

“ive been waiting to say that to you,” he breathed against your lips, closing the distance that was between them.

“jackson wang….you love me?” you could feel the tears building. the man of your dreams was in love with you, too.

“i love you,” he whispered reverently.

“say it again,” you begged. he said it like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you….i love you..”

jinyoung; moving in together

jinyoung thought you were so cute. you were ecstatic to move with jinyoung. you had been living in your shared apartment with your mom your whole life and we’re excited to start a new chapter of your life. jinyoung didn’t think you were taking in the fact that moving is one of the most stressful things a person can go through.

he didn’t want to rain on your parade, though.

the two of you got settled into your new apartment after a long day of unpacking. jinyoung kissed you as you laid onto your new king sized bed. “im gonna grab takeout, you want your usual?” he asked sweetly, squeezing your hand. you just nodded, squeezing his hand back.

you watched as jinyoung walked out of your shared bedroom. that’s when the dam broke. you were so overwhelmed. you didn’t know how to make warm water happen in your shower, you didn’t have your wifi set up, and you forgot your favorite teddy bear at your moms. you missed teddy and your wifi and your mom.

“hey, i ordered you two egg rolls and they gave us three - hey, baby, are you crying?”

“no,” you replied lamely. “I miss teddy,” you wailed miserably.

“teddy...the...stuffed bear?” he asked.

“i slept with him every night for the past 20 something years.”

“baby...we can get your bear in the morning...,”

“we don’t have netflix set up so how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”

“y/n...,” he chuckled. you frowned harder now that he was laughing at you. “moving isn’t as exciting as it looks. tomorrow, we will fix the wifi, okay? and we can visit your mom and rescue teddy.”

“okay...okay. im sorry, im just a bit overwhelmed,” you confessed.

“its gonna be okay, honey. it’s a lot to take in, i know. but you can hold me instead of teddy, and ill sing you to sleep,” he whispered, the takeout now long forgotten. before you could fall asleep, he pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled you into his chest to take a selfie. “there. now we have a picture of us in our bed for the first time.”

“i love you, you sap.”

even though you called him the sap, the next day you went to the pharmacy to get the photo printed and frame it. when jinyoung came home from the market that day, he eyed the frame on your bed stand, smirking at you.

“oh, so im the sap, hmm?”

youngjae; picking up the tab

it was the first date the two of you had been on since youngjae had been on tour. he told you to get dressed up and that the two of you would go out for a fancy dinner and catch up on everything. this is why you loved him, because while you wanted to hear all about his stories of life and tour abroad, he always wanted to hear about everything that was going at home, to see if you were alright.

youngjae looked dazzling in a black checked suit, while you matched him with a little black dress that made him groan when you stepped out of the bathroom. “can we skip dinner?” he’d ask cheekily. you rolled your eyes at him before kissing him on the cheek. “we aren’t skipping dinner, and we definitely won’t be skipping dessert,” you winked before leading him to the car.

the two of you ate dinner together, him holding your hand and looking at you with stars in his eyes as you told him stories that had happened while he was away. you ordered appetizers, drinks, shared an entrée, and youngjae even ordered you a slice of apple pie for the two of you to share.

“baby, I’m going to go use the restroom,” youngjae said before kissing your hand. “’kay, don’t get mugged, please,” you teased him. he shook his head at your playfulness. you watched as he left before frantically waving your arms at your waitress. she ran over to you, checking if you were alright.

“I just wanted to wonder if I can pick up the cheque really quick? I wanted to pick it up for my boyfriend as a surprise,” you spoke in a hushed tone, making the waitress giggle. she nodded her head before handing it to her. you handed her your credit card, thanking her before your boyfriend had any suspicions of what you were up to.

youngjae came out of the bathroom as soon as the waitress set the cheque down. you were applying your lipstick so you couldn’t snatch it in time. you watched as his pretty brown eyes scanned the receipt, looking confused as ever. “is this a joke? what kind of waitress lets the girlfriend pay?”

“jae,” you giggled. “you don’t always have to pay for dinner. I wanted to treat you…I missed you so much,” you confided, watching his expression from anger into warmth.

“oh, thank you honey, you are so sweet and thoughtful, I love you so much,” you let him wrap his suit jacket around your arms before planting a kiss to your forehead. “but that will be the last time you ever do that.”

“shut up, i like doing nice things for you,” you pouted.

“since you paid for dinner tonight, i have to put out, right?”

he ran to the car before you could slap him in the chest.

bam; his s/o borrowing his clothes

remember how joey never shared his food? well that’s how bam was with his wardrobe. he was very particular about his clothing, not letting people borrow them at all. yugyeom used to steal his clothes just to be petty and piss his best friend off. he had never let past partners borrow his clothes, and nothing was going to change, it wasn’t his fault, it was an obsession. if you were sure of one thing, it was to not steal your boyfriends clothes.

but one day, while he was gone from work, you thought you would take pictures of yourself in only one of his blazers to tease him.

you weren’t expecting him to walk through the door while you were trying to take self timer pictures of yourself.

“baby? what are you doing?” bam asked, laughing as you let out a squeal of surprise.

“i..i wanted to surprise you...,” he tsked, pulling away to look at his blazer. “i know you don’t like me wearing your things..,” you stammered as he circled you.

“you have such pretty things, though, bam,”

“you look so sexy in this,” he purred. “you were trying to get me worked up while im trying to work?”

“u...uhhh,” you couldn’t think coherently with you boyfriend acting so domineering. you gasped as he slid his hand up to your cunt, rubbing your clit in little circles. “bam...please...,” you groaned.

“keep the blazer on,” he said as you writhed in his grip.

“its gonna get all sweaty though and then you’ll yell at me,” you teased him as you followed him to the bed.

bam just groaned. “baby, im sorry I haven’t let you borrow my clothes before but you look better in them than me. now, let me fuck you and i promise you can have anything you want in that closet.”

he knew exactly how to shut you up.

yugyeom; his s/o buying him flowers

yugyeom was always so stressed during comeback season. you always scolded him when he forgot to eat, or wasn’t staying hydrated enough, but you were so proud of him. seeing the smile on his face and the way he walked a little taller was so worth it.

he was still busy during comeback season, coming home late after all the videos he had to shoot for publicity.

one night, yugyeom had gotten home around midnight to a bouquet of pink roses and a handwritten note from you. it read; “I am so proud of you, my love. congrats on breath… I can always feel your love,” he blushed and giggled to himself, thinking, “isn’t the guy supposed to buy the girlfriend the flowers?” he wandered into your shared bedroom to see you sprawled into his side, with your book in your hands, a soft snore leaving your lips. he nudged you, not intending to wake you up, he could thank you in the morning. but he did accidentally. “yeom?” you whispered.

“shh, baby go back to sleep,” he shushed, changing into his pjs.

“did you like the flowers?” you asked, suddenly awake now.

“theyre really pretty, baby, but aren’t I supposed to buy you the flowers?”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “not my boyfriend being a sexist,”

“yah! y/n stop it, I didn’t mean it that way!! I love them, you remembered I said I love roses,” he was pouting now, pulling you into his chest to spoon you. his voice got quieter now. “no one’s ever remembered my favorite flowers…much less bought them for me,” he paused, kissing the back of your neck before closing his eyes and falling fast asleep.

he was whipped.

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 preferences #got7 writing #got7 imagines #park jinyoung #mark tuan #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #bambam #jackson wang #im jaebeom #got7 writings

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wyn-n-tonic · 3 years

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Golden, Like Daylight -- Part V

Word Count: 2,005 Warnings: PTSD. Allusions to sex (it borders on the edge of smut but we should know by now I'm shit at that). Hint of a praise kink. Bit of marking kink. Death. Ben Affleck. Author's Note: The last few chapters have taken a lot out of me, I put a lot of my own experiences with PTSD and mental health into them. I tried to make this fluffy, I needed that comfort after a hard week and I feel lighter for it. As always, thank you so much for your kind words and loving this like I do.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

“Fuck you.” Benny stares straight into Tom’s eyes. "This is my fuck you money.” The held breaths are louder than gunshots, waiting for a reaction that doesn’t come.

Cold Camp Davis grunts a laugh, “We don’t have enough men to carry all this money so we might as well be warm.”

Benny giggles like a child as he grabs a strap, zippo clicking to ignition again.

The laughter that bubbles up is like a light, warmer than the thousands of dollars burning bright against his eyes.

Frankie, you might as well take your salary out on the front lawn and pour some kerosene on it.

He hears it so clearly in his head and in his heart, Leah teasing him for all the lights being on the first time he took her home.

Tom stands up, dumping an entire case down to tinder in the cold air.

Eight dates in and she’d already witnessed one of his attacks. It was the third date, he’d wanted to take her home that night. His body on hers for hours. Wanted to make breakfast the next morning, having already committed to memory the way she takes her coffee. Instead, she spent that night holding tightly to his hands as his panic crescendoed in the backseat of his car.

If it wasn’t then that he realized he loved her, it was in the way she turned to look at him when he quietly said,

The lights being on make me feel safe.

It wasn’t pity, like he’s used to. It wasn’t the look somebody gives a broken man with a broken mind and a broken soul. The only change he found in the already soft features was an understanding behind the dark eyes staring back at him.

This fire makes him feel safe now.

He’s always straining in the dark. It’s not just about watching his six. It’s all twelve hands on deck with two eyes and a ringing in his ears so intense he can feel it in his toes.

But here? It beats back against the edges of gloom that have continuously threatened to consume him.

He can sweep enclosed spaces in minutes, assess the situation and the danger within. It’s a lot harder in the extended wilds, nothing but the moon to guide the eye.

Before Leah—and for a while there after—he combed room for room upon his arrival home. He’d ask her to stay in the car, his conceal carry coming out as soon as the door would swing open.

He’d sheepishly grin, collecting her from the passenger side after his survey and she’d hug him. Holding tightly around his middle section, pressing her cold hands up under his shirt to that hot place where his heart beats and whisper with genuine gratitude,

Thank you for protecting me, Frankie.

It was never condescending, that’s all he ever wanted to do. Protect her. Protect himself. Protect the men giggling like schoolboys around him right now.

And he liked being told what a good job he did at that. —————

“What's Frankie short for?” Barely audible, her breath fanning across his chest as she continues to catch it. Like willing waves of normalcy in the aftermath of a hurricane.

“Francisco.”

“Francisco,” she repeats, dragging out the o. “Do you like it?”

“Used to make me feel like I was in trouble, very harsh coming from pissed off higher ups and even angrier parents but it sounds…” he thinks on that for a second, the events of the night still rippling through his body, “a lot sweeter in your mouth.”

“Watch yourself,” she hums a kiss into the flat plane of his breast before sinking her teeth into the flesh there, biting as hard as she can.

A chuckle vibrates from deep within him, “one hell of a bite too, I won’t soon forget.”

He looks down into her eyes, bright with mischief as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth now. He’d had hickeys before but never like this. He surveys the purple marks across his body, somehow burning brighter than the rest of him, and a contentedness pools in the pit of his stomach. Her stamps on him in easily hidden spaces to match the lipstick stains she’s started marking across his right cheek in the moments before they walk into the bar or the restaurant.

Little ways she says mine.

And he is hers. He knows it in the steady way his lungs rise and fall underneath her now.

He brushes a soft wave from where it tickles across her nose, “is Leah short for anything?”

Her nose scrunches, “not a goddamn thing.”

“Do you know what it means then?” His large hand is sprawled across her lower back, the weight of it an anchor.

Don’t leave me, it says.

“I don’t know,” she drawls, the slight twang coming forward in moments of exhaustion and inebriation, “just think my mama liked the sound of it is all.”

His heart is blazing underneath her cheek as she settles against him once more, her soft voice tumbles towards him, “Francisco…” as her eyelashes brush against his skin and he swears he can count them all on sensation alone.

“Yeah, baby?”

He feels a smile tug at her lips, stopped in its tracks where she’s rooted into him. It’s the first time he’s called her that.

“I have nightlights.”

The light makes her feel safe too. —————

He’s standing over Tom’s body and he hates to admit it but the feeling washing over him is one of relief.

Relief mingled with guilt.

Guilt that nobody was watching his six, his back wide open to the world behind it. Five seasoned fucking veterans and nobody watching the higher ground.

Relief at the silence he knows will engulf the group now. No more orders from a child who should’ve never been granted the lead to begin with.

Guilt because he was climbing up a fucking rock when he should’ve been doing his job as a friend and brother.

Relief that it wasn’t his brains splashed across stone.

His head is fucking pounding and it has been for days, pain dulled by consistency but never not there.

At least I can feel my fucking head.

He thinks of all the other things he can feel now, the things service beat from his body.

The ache in his limbs, heavy with exhaustion.

He’s dreading adding the dead weight of a dead body to the load.

The pang in his stomach, too used to consistently hot food.

He wants black coffee and bacon and tiny spoonfuls of sweet potato puree he airplanes into his own mouth to show Luna it won’t hurt her. Hell, he’d take the mushed peas right now.

Benny’s sobbing. The one amongst them all that never breaks is the broken one now.

He’s staring off again at everything and nothing, Santiago and Will unfurling bags for the body.

What a present to bring home.

It was always the risk they faced, they knew it.

If you were lucky, truly lucky, you came home whole. Untouched, unscathed, unmarred. The safe deployments, the technical shit, the brains behind the operations never seeing bloodshed. Everybody else though? Some were held together by duct tape and pure grit.

Others tied up in a flag with a bow.

Daddy’s not coming home but here’s a purple heart for the dress uniform he’ll never wear again.

I should’ve done more.

He’s not getting a purple heart for this.

I should’ve held on tighter.

He didn’t die in service to his country, he died in service to himself.

I should’ve made a bigger issue of the weight.

Another family he’s failed to protect.

I should’ve said no. —————

The darkness is cut through with a warm glow in every outlet as the clock tips over the edge of midnight.

Wednesday, the eleventh of October.

Nose to nose, the excitement of the day hangs over them like a wave threatening to crash. A giddiness in their bed forcing sleep to the edges of thought.

“Do you think they’re gonna know?” Her voice is soft, featherlight. Trying not to disturb the peaceful bubble they find themselves in now.

“No,” he lifts to press his lips gently into hers, “but I can’t promise I won’t shout it out on the altar.”

Panic takes her eyes, he knows it all too well and he’s gripping tighter before she can inhale. Fingers splayed across the small of her back, the weight of it a comfort to the tender bones and aching muscles.

I'm right here, it says.

“Breathe, breathe,” he’s speaking softly into her hair, “it was just a joke, baby.”

“You're not funny, Francisco Morales.” She speaks it like a fact, like she doesn’t spend hours in his arms filling his head with the music of her laughter. She says it like he isn’t watching smile lines appear in real time, falling more in love with each one.

“Would it be so bad though? If I did? If people knew?” It’s hope in his voice that she’ll say yes. That he can announce to his best friends all at once, every single one, before Santi leaves again. He doesn't want his happiness to arrive by text message. He wants to see the light of congratulation dancing around him.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” she’s scared, “besides… it’s not traditional.”

He scoffs, “what about us has ever been traditional, mi alma?”

“I'll make you a deal,” her fingers run through the stubble along his jaw, thumbs lingering over the patches, “don’t shave this tomorrow and you can tell the boys.”

“You want me to keep this malnourished shit on my face? For our wedding?”

Her giggles vibrate against him, “Yes. I have plans for it after you say I do.”

He growls, “this deal sounds pretty sweet to my lazy soul, what do you get out of it?”

“Hmm…” she brings her hand up to tap on her chin, “well, to begin, I’m getting a hot husba—”

“Debatable.”

“I'll fuck you up, Morales, take the compliment.”

He laughs a kiss into her, “what else?”

“Benny and Will will become automatic attack dogs around me, I’m fairly certain they will clear their schedules for all of April to stand guard outside the room. My own personal security team.”

He laughs again at the truth in her words, “what else?”

She pushes forward again, taking his lip between hers. A soft kiss with the burning desire for more.

“I’ll wake up on Thursday morning with a rawness between my legs that I’m usually only gifted on the weekends.”

His grip tightens, any suggestion of sleep leaving his body in a rush of blood straight through him, “I will never shave again.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time, my love.”

He rolls himself into her at that, kissing down her jaw. Her neck. The sensitive skin of her breasts, low lying cotton barely above indecency. He raises the hem, the curve of her belly burning hot against his lips, two hearts now beating inside her.

He grabs the elastic around her hips and gently pulls, kisses so soft across her pelvis they feign an innocence to his true intentions. Her legs kick out to help discard the fabric tangling her ankles as he settles broad shoulders at the base of her being.

Her fingers twirl through the soft curls that have been crushed against a pillow for hours by her side.

He kisses her soft thighs, slowly dragging his rough cheek against the delicate flesh.

“Francisco,” her fingers flex tighter as he looks up to meet her eyes, “don’t be such a fucking tease.”

He smiles wide, the devilish grin splitting his face as he drops his eyes to where she wants him, the fever that’s taken over her body in the last three months beckoning him in.

His hands are heavy on her hips, clenching deep purple into her. Marks in easily hidden spaces, his little ways of saying mine.

#frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #i believe in francisco morales supremacy #triple frontier #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #oc #ofc #original character #original female character #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal fanfiction

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sonnet009 · 3 years

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Wilder: Amir’s Story (Route Summary)

PROLOGUE:

MC decides to flee Ziya alone. A rotund wine merchant named Barlow offers her a timely rescue, smuggling her out in one of the wagons in his caravan. On their journey across the Shining Sands MC learns that Barlow is a wealthy and ambitious man who can afford not only a team of djinn guards but even a pleasure slave. It is this pleasure slave who warns MC that Barlow intends to ransom her back to Ziya and urges her to leave the caravan. Though MC suspects the surly Jamal just wants to no longer share his wagon, she takes his advice and flees from Barlow under cover of darkness.

CHAPTER I:

A sandstorm drives MC up into the Western Hills. There she is captured by a tribe of wild djinn and presented to the tribe's chief, Amir, who takes great interest in her and decides, instead of killing her, to keep her as some sort of prisoner. MC cannot understand the djinn tongue and Amir cannot speak hers, and so their interactions are fraught with misunderstandings, frustration, and mistrust.

As her time with the tribe passes MC is treated with contempt by most of them, attempts an unsuccessful escape, and continues to butt heads with Amir – an arrogant man-child with no manners as far as she can tell. She also meets Hani – an older ex-slave who is also an outcast among the tribe. Hani speaks both the human and djinn tongue and, being a kind woman, starts translating for MC and Amir. As MC and Amir start trying by themselves to learn parts of each other's language, their relationship begins to slowly improve.

Every night after dinner Amir will tell animated, theatrical tales for the enjoyment of his tribe, while Hani translates them for MC. Hani also teaches her things about the tribe, such as the fact that Amir went from orphan to the youngest and strongest rahki (chief) in the Hills, and how MC should watch out for Amir's closest friend, the hateful and vicious Kherga.

CHAPTER II:

Amir decrees that MC is no longer a captive but a guest of the tribe, allowing her freedom to move about the camp. This is an unpopular decision among his people, especially with Kherga. As the days and weeks pass, MC spends time with many of the tribe, pitching in with chores, and finds that not only is she growing stronger and hardier but that some of the tribe members seem to be warming to her – and she to them.

One morning a hunting party, led by Kherga, is about to head out. Amir impulsively invites MC to join, to Kherga's disgust. MC fails rather spectacularly at hunting a wild boar and cuts her legs on an undergrowth of thorns – the hunters find this uproariously funny. Amir takes MC to a nearby river where she can wash her injury while he leaps into the water and splashes around like a child. He tries to coax her in as well and is dismayed to learn that she cannot swim. In turn, MC learns that Amir is picking up the human tongue much quicker than she the djinn tongue. He acts the immature fool, but he is very intelligent and an enthusiastic learner.

After bonding, the two return to camp. The atmosphere turns dark. Kherga holds court and has been whipping the tribe into an angry frenzy. MC doesn't need to speak the language to know that her continued presence here is the main cause of contention. Kherga challenges Amir's leadership and the two fight. But when some of the djinn grab MC in the chaos, Amir immediately abandons the challenge to force them to release her. As the tribe surrounds the two of them it is clear that Amir has lost his place as chief. He throws MC over his shoulder and runs, pursued by his former brothers and sisters, until he reaches the mountains known as the Knives – a place where the tribe will not follow.

CHAPTER III:

As soon as they are clear of the tribe Amir just stops and sits on the ground, shattered by disbelief and grief. MC believes the coup to be her fault but Amir is quietly firm that it is his. They have nowhere to go but forward, so they journey on. Amir is despondent and distracted; entirely unlike the djinn that MC had been getting to know.

Suddenly Amir goes entirely still, alert in a way he hasn't been for days now. He has sensed Hamza and his men approaching from behind. A battle ensues in which Amir brutally takes down any man who dares attack him – and MC does her own share of violence, shocking herself. But when Hamza is at his mercy Amir refuses to kill a helpless foe and instead takes MC's hand and starts running. Newly alive and euphoric from battle Amir pulls MC into a kiss – then, once the adrenaline fades, collapses from his wounds.

MC and Amir shelter in a cave while she tends to his injuries. He requests more lessons in the human tongue while he recovers and in return she asks for more traditional djinn stories. They are soon on the move again and make it to the other side of the Knives. As they continue on their journey they share more stories and lessons – and learn that there is a particular insult that both their cultures share. “Ki bo ki,” Amir teaches MC. “Fuck yourself,” she teaches him in turn.

CHAPTER IV:

Amir follows MC even past the Knives, into the farmland on the other side. He has nowhere else to go and neither seem to want to part just yet. He is also as excited as a child to see so many new sights. The two run into a blind woman on the road and help lift her cart out of a ditch. In thanks, she offers them lunch.

Once they reach the lady's farm she offers them both some of her produce and some clothes for Amir – at MC's request. Amir hates the shirt and he doubly hates the trousers, but MC insists that he keep them on while they are in human lands.

On the road again it isn't too long before they are waylaid by bandits who demand all their money, possessions, and Amir himself. Amir doesn't understand what is happening until MC explains the situation to him, after which he confidently tells the bandits to fuck themselves. After easily defeating the men, Amir and MC go through their ill-gotten belongings and find some broken slave bands. Amir agrees to wear them in order to fool any humans they may meet in the town ahead, but both he and MC feel disgusted by the performance.

CHAPTER V:

Now in the port town of Dijarah, Amir is amazed by the place but simply does not blend in. A man who takes offence to Amir spits at his feet, shocking the former rahki who has never been so affronted or so lost. He and MC stop at an inn for dinner, sharing a table despite the taboo, and learn that they have come to town on the right night – the Fish Festival is tonight.

Neither MC or Amir have ever attended a festival and let their excitement and curiosity overpower their common sense. When night falls they walk the now colourful streets, enjoying the food stalls, the games, and... the alcohol. Another first. They sit together at the water's edge and share another kiss, this one not fuelled by adrenaline but their shared sorrow at the thought of parting. MC shares the whole story of her escape from Ziya and journey to Umar. Amir vows to see MC safely onto a ship but then he must return home to the Hills, to seek justice and redemption with his tribe.

The fall asleep there by the water and wake wrapped around each other and facing the bemusement of the dock worker who finds them. MC finds a ship heading for Umar but is reluctant to book passage and say goodbye to Amir right then and there. Amir feels the same, casually suggesting breakfast in an attempt to distract her. But things are soon thrown into chaos as Hamza appears, spotting them and giving chase. Amir helps MC hide in a crate being loaded onto the ship from before, gives her knuckles a kiss, then leads Hamza away through the crowd. As the crate is loaded onto the ship, MC waits in the dark. A stowaway. Alone.

CHAPTER VI:

MC hides in the cargo hold, the ship having left port. She is alone, hopelessly worried about Amir, and heartbroken to know that she will never see him again. Then he pops out of the crate next to hers exclaiming, “MC!” and clapping his hand over her mouth to muffle her startled scream. Turns out he lost Hamza and doubled back to join her, unable to leave things as they were. Their days as stowaways begin. They pass time with stories and Amir finally tells MC about the expectation his tribe had for him to take a mate, and how it was part fascination and part rebellion that led him to claim MC as his when she was brought before him.

The confinement soon takes its toll on Amir who hates being unable to see the sky. MC makes him promise to stay hidden but he soon breaks it, discovered by sailors who take him before the ship's captain. MC follows in a panic and offers all the money she has – but the captain is surprisingly friendly, saying Amir has told him of her plight and that he is happy to give them passage to freedom in Umar. He gives them a cabin and asks in return only that MC remembers him and mentions him to all of her highborn friends and family as the gracious captain that saved her life.

One night there is a terrible storm. MC finds Amir up on deck, naked, arms outstretched, face raised to the rain. As the thunder and lightning crack around them, MC and Amir embrace passionately. They spend the night together in their cabin, primal desperation eventually turning to gentle intimacy, and fall asleep as close as two people can be.

CHAPTER VII:

Upon arrival in Umar the captain directs MC and Amir to a safe place to stay called Minerva's. It soon becomes apparent that Minerva's is a pleasure house. They stay the night anyway, though Amir barricades their door with heavy furniture just to be safe from everyone's... rapt attention. In the morning a free djinn called Royo appears to escort them to her employer, the merchant-turned-lord Yasir. It seems the good captain tried to sell them out but, fortunately for them, Yasir has no interest in cooperating with Ziya.

At Yasir's estate there is one more surprise waiting – Uncle Makram. He and MC share a tearful reunion and he vows that he will keep her safe from now on. MC also makes him promise to ensure Amir is returned safely to his homeland. Bemused, Makram agrees. The arrival of a righteous and unstoppable Hamza breaks the peace of Yasir's estate. He demands that MC be turned over to his custody immediately.

Makram is the one to stand up to Hamza. He calls in the Heartseer who long ago proclaimed MC guilty of murder and has him confess to lying about what he saw – though he will answer none of Hamza's questions as to why. Makram, Hamza and Yasir go to another room and, when they return, Hamza seems cowed and ground under Makram's heel. Though still clearly disturbed, he apologises to MC and declares her innocent.

CHAPTER VIII:

MC, Amir, Makram, and Hamza are journeying back to Ziya together. They are currently passing through the Shining Sands in a carriage manned by a driver generously gifted by Yasir. When they pass close by to the Hills, the carriage stops to allow Amir to disembark.

Amir and MC stand in the starlight, sand under their feet, and know that this time they must say goodbye. MC asks for one last story and Amir tells her the tale of two legendary djinn lovers and the reysoko (blood bond) they shared by marking each other's flesh and drinking each other's blood, making them inseparable by even death. Unable to embrace under the scrutiny of the others MC and Amir must then simply say farewell and part ways. Amir heads off, up towards the Hills. MC returns to the carriage.

As the journey to Ziya continues through the night, MC suddenly realises that Hamza is no longer sitting out beside the driver. She forces Makram to admit what he, Yasir and Hamza discussed in that private room back in Umar – a plan to blame the shah's murder on a djinn plot, claiming that Ran was an assassin from Amir's tribe. As they speak, Hamza has met with a squad of his best men and they are following Amir's tracks to lead them to his people. MC slaps her uncle and leaps from the carriage, unhitching a horse and riding as fast as she can back towards the Hills to warn Amir and the tribe.

CHAPTER IX:

But by the time MC makes it to the camp there are already signs of a razing. Some djinn lie dead. Hani is leading many of the survivors in an attempt to avoid the soldiers by moving about the forest – as she knows the human tongue she alone is able to eavesdrop on their plans and work around them. MC leads a squad of Hamza's men away from them and into the undergrowth of thorns that she once blundered into, back when she briefly lived here.

She finds Hamza and Kherga, surrounded by dead djinn and humans alike, circling each other and both badly wounded. Hamza lands the killing blow on Kherga just as Amir comes running onto the scene, howling in grief and fury. Amir faces Hamza and they fight once more. This time, when Hamza is at his mercy, Amir does not hesitate to kill him.

When the last of the soldiers limp away in defeat, the tribe comes back together. Silently they build a giant pyre and burn their dead upon it. Amir watches Kherga's body burn, clasping MC's hand tightly in his. They stand there until the fire burns out and Amir's brothers' and sisters' souls have flown to the sky.

BITTER END:

The tribe reinstate Amir as their chief. After the ceremony Amir escorts MC to the edge of the Hills. Though she will miss him, she simply cannot leave behind civilisation. Whether she will stay in Ziya or begin a new life in some other city, she is not sure. But she has a choice, which is more than she has ever had before.

They share one final embrace, then MC turns and walks away. She feels Amir's eyes on her back until he is so far away that he is no longer even a blur on the horizon.

SWEET END:

With newfound respect and gratitude for Hani, and with Amir's blessing, the tribe choose her as their new chief. After the ceremony Amir escorts MC to the edge of the Hills to say a final farewell. MC makes it ten steps before turning and running back to Amir. She asks if she can stay with him. He is kissing her before she finishes the question.

Free from their old responsibilities, MC and Amir find a place to settle in the Hills just for themselves. Amir is teaching her to swim. Exhausted from the lessons (and perhaps more than that) they lie on the bank, lazily playing with each other's hair. Just like the legendary lovers that Amir once told her about, he marks MC's shoulder with a bite. She does the same to him, and their bond is forever sealed.

#Wilder #Amir #Route Summary

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callmeelle22 · 3 years

Text

Blue Dream IX

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Allen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 6, 258

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Say Yes

Chapter VII: Brave

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Chapter IX: He Loves Me; Because she looks like a woman drowning in bliss, a woman draped in desire, the look of it hugging like a second skin. She looks like the way women might be described in romance novels, so satisfied she can’t think of anything other than being wrapped up in the man giving her the satisfaction. She looks like the woman in some fantasy or dream, ascending the clouds, spread out and open in an expanse of blue. She sings it in her head, you school me, give me things to think about; invite me, you ignite me, co-write me, you love me, you like me; incite me to chorus, at the same time that she sings out loud, “god, Bear, baby yes,” her eyes fluttering closed at only the very last minute. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter.)

He Loves Me

You love me especially different every time

You keep me on my feet happily excited

By your cologne, your hands, your smile, your intelligence

You woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me

You school me, give me some things to think about

Ignite me, you invite me, you co-write me, you love me, you like me

You incite me to chorus, ooh

She tells him she loves him on a Friday night.

A week later, and it's the first night in a long while that she doesn’t get to stay at home because Barry has asked if he can have her time tonight. He doesn’t give her any details, only tells her to come over to his place around 8 and to be prepared to stay over. He seems particularly animated, when he asks, and it makes Iris wonder why, if he’s got something planned or if it’s just that he’s happy he gets to spend the time with her, even if they’ve been around each other more than usual this week.

So, the entire day, she’s dizzy with excitement.

Her taping of Good Morning, Central City is mid-morning. The segment tapes live at 9:30, which gives her some time to down a cup of coffee or two to settle her nerves, and then carefully apply her makeup. She dresses in one of her favorite dresses, a long sleeved wrap dress in black with soft, pretty flowers printed on it and a pair of shoes that boost her confidence, tall black pumps with a gold heel and gold double chains around the ankle. The neck of the dress dips and the delicate material flirts with her lower thighs; she feels pretty in it, in a lighter, brighter way than she’s found herself feeling before. Her makeup is subtle, except for the dark maroon lip, and she’s had her hair blown out and it hangs in soft fingered out curls just past her shoulders. A small black bag is all she takes to keep her keys and cards and then she’s out the door.

WCCTV, the station that houses the studio, is a short drive away, tucked into a neighborhood that Iris doesn’t frequent. She isn’t sure what she was expecting of the station, but it’s a squat little building in an unimaginative cream and brick scheme that would look like any other commercial building if not for WCCTV printed in large blue letters on the building and the satellite dishes spaced intentionally around it.

A news producer meets her at the door, a thin young woman with thick red hair piled into a high ponytail who introduces herself as Katherine.

“We’re all excited to have you here,” the woman says, smiling as she leads Iris through a number of desk cubicles towards a back room. She recognizes a couple of the anchors from the station, who all look either intensely focused on their work or bored out of their minds.

“Thanks,” Iris says politely. “It is a little overwhelming here, though.”

Iris doesn’t love speaking in front of people, which is why she's firmly on the invisible side of her work, but she isn’t as nervous and she figures she could be. There’s that feeling in her belly she connects with nerves, but it’s slight; instead, she’s ready. This can change the trajectory of her blog, invite more viewers and more paying ads. It could invite more stories, people who see her and trust that she wants to do right by them and their lives. She’s practically giddy with the idea.

Katherine’s response is an easy grin. “I know it seems that way, but you’ll be fine. You look fabulous so that’s one concern out of the way. Plus, Alexa and James are phenomenal at getting people to open up at the same time that they project a sort of calmness. It's fascinating to watch and I can tell you’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Katherine. I really appreciate that.”

Iris is led back to a small room where the two anchors for Good Morning, Central City are standing with four other local internet stars. Alexa May is tall and blonde and exactly like what one thinks about when they think of a news anchor: pretty and personable on a killer black skirt suit, though Iris is a little surprised at the naturally kind gleam in her eyes. James Broderick is even taller, his dark hair styled to look windswept, his ice blue eyes looking constantly around the room, as if he’s always wondering where a new story might be.

Iris steps in to greet the other four guests. They include a short Somalian woman in a beautiful bright purple hijab who cooks and shares recipes on YouTube; a stocky white guy known for his skits on TikTok; a dark-skinned Black Instagram beauty guru; and a non-binary Mexican person who discusses true crimes on Snapchat ala Buzzfeed Unsolved. It’s an eclectic collection of people and Iris feels honored to be a part of this group. She’s watched all of their videos in some fashion, though she’s more partial to Aya, the home chef, and Nadine, the beauty grammer. Still, they each have large followings and to be included gives Iris such a sense of pride, that she’s a little drunk with the force of it.

“You guys ready?” Alexa’s strong voice pulls all of their attention immediately, and Iris passes one more look through the crew of them before locking eyes with Alexa and James.

She nods her assent.

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

At 8, Iris pulls into Barry’s two-car driveway right next to his Jeep backed up into the drive as usual. The garage is open, though, and she takes that as an invitation to walk into the house, finding the kitchen door unlocked. She steps in and presses the button that closes the garage, locks the kitchen door behind her.

Her giddy mood has stuck with her.

The segment had been a quick fire round of questions and answers, with the hosts wanting to know how they all got started, what motivates them to do what they do, and the ups and downs of being in spaces of both influence and criticism. It’d been fascinating to hear the stories of the others, and afterward, they’d all exchanged contact information with the idea of collaborating on future projects.

After, she’d gone to lunch with her dad and Wally, who’d all but hinted at a watch party planned for the following night. She'd merely shaken her head at her family’s love of partying.

Now, she’s at Barry’s and she recognizes that tonight is going to be different. Because she knows that she’s going to say it. After the last part of her interview, where she’d all but explained to Alexa and James that she’d fallen in love with someone, she understands that there is no way that she can announce it on television and not tell the man himself.

It’s fairly dark in the house; there is a small light on above the stove. She continues through the quiet living room, a single table lamp lighting her path down his hallway. She pauses to pull her jacket off, tossing it over the arm of the sofa as she treks towards his room. That’s where she finds Barry, sitting in the large overstuffed chair in the corner near the window.

She takes a moment to look at him, in a pair of soft looking pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt, tattooed arm hooked behind his head as he sits wide-legged in the chair. His dark hair is only the slightest bit messy. Iris likes the look of the breadth of his shoulders, the bulge of his biceps, the print of his sex visible through the thin cotton of his pants. He’s not overtly sexy in the way that other men she’s dated have been, but there’s something about Barry, his eyes and his mouth and his length, that really gets to Iris.

She drags her eyes away from him and that’s when she suddenly notices the two gift-wrapped boxes sitting in the middle of his bed, the large bottle of wine and two glasses on his bedside table, a couple of pre-rolled joints sitting beside them too.

Iris steps further into the room, her heels heavy on his hardwood floors; the movement is enough to catch his attention and his head pops up, those sea-foam eyes glittering behind the wire frames of his glasses as he smiles up at her.

(And, Iris will realize later, her entire body floods with her affection for him, the feeling familiar in that the thought comes so much easier now, comes to her so smoothly that she doesn’t know how it’d once felt so difficult to get the words across.)

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets as he stands, unfolding his long frame from the chair. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay,” she smiles at him as he comes to a stop in front of her. She naturally reaches out to wrap her arms around him, tightening them around his waist. His touch is automatic too, his big hands landing on her neck, thumbs trailing softly across the skin on her cheeks. She falls against him, his firmness and his warmth and the soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans down and kisses her, a peck and then another, and then a longer one, his tongue easing out to coax her open. He pulls back first, though slowly, and Iris chases after him. He obliges with another kiss, this one longer, wetter, Iris squeezing him to her.

“Hi,” she speaks, voice a little faint.

“Hey, beautiful” he repeats. He thumbs at her bottom lip, the tip of his finger tracing gently over the line of her mouth.

“What’s all this?” she asks, when she pulls away from him this time. She gazes around the room again, at how the only lights on are the bedside lamps and at the weed and wine waiting on one of those tables and the gifts sitting neatly on the bed.

“It’s a celebration,” he says with a wide smile. “Well, it’s your Friday night routine, just here. I got the wine and the weed, and Thai ordered out here for a bit later.” His smile dims a little, becomes unsure. “And I thought we could talk about your segment today; maybe actually watch it. I recorded it.”

“Really?” Iris’s eyes widen in slight surprise. “I know my dad and Wally did because we’re gonna have a watch party at dad’s place tomorrow. And probably Linda, but...”

“Of course I recorded it, baby.” Barry gives her an indulgent look. “I tried to watch some of it at work, but we got called out on a case before you came on. Then I thought it’d be better to wait to watch it with you.”

Iris doesn’t have a response other than to bite at her lip, eyes trained on him, the reality of his kindness rendering her momentarily speechless. Barry doesn’t acknowledge her silence; instead, he plants another firm kiss to her mouth and steps away from her, nodding at his bed.

“Is this all okay, though? Maybe you can open your gifts and then we can pour the wine and turn on your interview?”

Her smile is big. “Yeah, Barry, of course.”

She looks over at the sleekly wrapped presents before going to sit on the edge of his bed. She makes quick work of unclasping the buckle around her ankle, leaving her shoes strewn on the floor, and then she hops up into the middle of the bed, pulling the two boxes in front of her, her dress riding up to the top of her thighs.

One of the boxes is bigger than the other, though it’s lighter than the heavier one. They’re wrapped in shiny gold paper with dark blue bows sitting in the corner of each. She picks up the bigger present first, tearing through the paper. She recognizes the garment box and thumbs open the top. Nestled in white tissue paper is a pile of red silk, the material so soft and delicate it looks like waves on the cardboard.

“Bear?” she questions, picking up the folded clothing. It’s a nightgown and matching robe. The gown is almost like a dress she’d wear out, with thin straps and a split up the right side, except the fabric of it is so light, one can tell it’s only made to be seen by a lover. The feel of it in her hands is so nice and Iris knows that this isn’t like the inexpensive dresses she buys for herself.

“I thought that you could have one to keep over here sometimes,” he says when she catches his gaze. He looks a little bashful, cheeks slightly tinged pink. “I know that Friday night is largely your thing, but maybe every so often you can spend it with me.”

“And wear this?” Iris asks, her grin widening slowly.

Barry nods.

“I think that this is really a gift for you,” she says and he barks out a laugh.

“It is my favorite color.” He grins. “And I admit that when I saw it, the first thing I wondered was how it would look as I took it off of you.”

Iris rolls her eyes in jest. “Pervert.” She fingers the material again. “So you picked it out yourself? In a store?”

“You have no idea how embarrassing it is buying women’s lingerie. The sales lady kept making these innuendos and I thought I was gonna pass out, I was blushing so hard.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Iris laughs as she reaches over and pinches his cheek. “You did good though. It’s so soft.”

Barry beams at her. “Can I get a kiss as a thanks?”

Iris shakes her head. “Not until I open this other one. I could hate it and then that would overshadow how much I like this nightgown.”

He snorts. “Even if you do hate it, I’ll still get to see you in the nightgown and, honestly, that’ll make my night.”

“Like I said: pervert.”

He just chuckles as she picks up the heavier box and claws at the paper on it. It looks like some sort of leather book, and once Iris pulls all of the paper off, it takes everything in her not to just start bawling right then and there. It’s the journal she’d seen at the fall festival, except in a pretty royal purple instead of the coral she’d picked up there; this one’s definitely a better choice. It has the rose gold edging that the other had and her name is stitched in that same color at the bottom right corner of the journal. She flips through it, fingering the heavy cream paper. Handwriting catches her attention and she turns to where Barry has written a message on the first page in small, scrawling script.

Iris,

I think I knew that I was falling for you during fall fest, when I saw you staring down at the notebook with such a look of reverence on your face. I could see in that moment how much you loved your craft. It made me curious about you, about someone who’s goal in life is to be the voice for those who can’t or simply won’t. And when I started to read your work, I saw your heart in everything you wrote, in every line that scrolled across my computer screen. I wanted to know that heart.

Now that I do, now that I’ve seen it firsthand: in the way that you touch me, in the way that you smile at me, in the way that you make me feel like every day is new story to experience, I want to be able to experience it for as long as you’ll let me. Because you are a lightning bolt, Iris, brilliant and electric. You are beautiful and tenacious and the single most fascinating person I’ve ever met.

So keep putting your heart into your stories, and I’ve no doubt that everyone who reads it will love it as much as I do.

Barry

“Barry,” she says, breathes really. She looks up at him, his expression nervous, his eyes tracking her. She feels the moisture pricking at the corners of hers and she blinks, letting the tears fall.

“Iris.” His voice is a little raw as she gazes up at him. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I can…” he cuts himself off as he reaches for the journal. Iris swats at his hand and brings the notebook closer to her. “Iris?”

Another tear, and then another and then more, roll down over her cheeks and Barry stares at her, hand outstretched, mouth agape.

“Iris,” he tries again. Wordlessly, she places the journal back down in the box and then she crawls over to him, planting herself in his lap. She wraps herself around him, legs locking around his waist, arms crossing behind his neck. He closes his mouth, but his features are still twisted in turmoil. “Baby, please tell me why you’re crying.”

He asks this as he reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Everything in Iris seems like it’s settling now, even as the tears fall. Even clearer than before, she can read the story of them, like the book is in front of her, words bold and in technicolor. She can see the dream she’s living in, the vision of them laughing with each other and making love to each other, for days on end, one that plays out like a movie in front of her.

She tightens around him, trying to get as close as she can without crawling inside of him—she really wishes she could right now—and she sniffs, looking down at Barry through her wet lashes. She takes a deep breath. And then she tells him.

“I’m crying because I love you.”

Much like the last time they’d had this conversation, Barry’s body stiffens beneath her. He asks carefully, “And loving me makes you cry?”

She nods and Barry looks stricken. It’s what she needs to bring a modicum of levity to the moment and she huffs out a small laugh. “These aren’t sad tears, Barry.”

Iris can physically see him exhale, letting out a shaky breath. His shoulders lose their tension and he gives her a tentative smile. She returns it.

“For someone who always seems to know what I’m thinking, you completely missed the mark here.”

Barry shakes his head as Iris notes the flush climbing up his neck. “The tears threw me off.” He wipes at her face. “Please never do that again.”

She laughs. “I’ll do my best.”

Barry runs a hand down her back, over the fabric of the dress she’s wearing, and he grips her chin with his other thumb and forefinger, bringing her down so he can stare into her eyes.

“So you love me?” he wonders. His voice dips, lower like midnight walks on a beach in the fall or like early morning talks before coffee and reality ease in. He pulls the glasses from his face, folds them on the table beside them, and gives her all of his attention. She likes being surrounded by him like this, by the look of him and the smell of him and the feel of him. She stays wrapped around him like a koala and Barry holds on to her too, gripping her chin and pressing her to him with a wide palm to the small of her back.

“I do,” Iris nods. “Very much.”

Iris can see the joy brimming in his gaze. “Can you tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“What you love about me.”

Barry shifts so that he’s sitting more comfortably on the bed and she’s perched even closer in his lap, the crotch of her panties almost pressing against his belly. He pushed the boxes and wrapping better towards the edge of the bed.

“For example,” he says, and he lets go of her chin to touch his palm to her chest. His hand is warm through the fabric of her dress. “You know that I love this heart, how gracious and compassionate it is.” He reaches down and picks up on her hands, rubbing a thumb along her knuckles, along the rings that adorn her fingers. He brings it up to his mouth and presses a few tiny kisses along the pads of her fingertips. “I love these fingers, because it’s through your writing, your typing, that you show yourself, even when you can’t always physically or verbally.” He goes back to her face, his thumb caressing the middle of her bottom lip. “I love this mouth: the way that it smiles and laughs, the way that it purses when you’re annoyed, the way that it feels on my own.”

Iris can’t help it when she licks her lips, tongue swiping at Barry’s thumb. He makes a soft grunting sound.

“Tell me, Iris.”

She thinks back to the second night they’d been together, when he’d been hard inside of her and he’d asked her to tell him how he felt fucking into her. She decides that this is even harder, not because she doesn’t know, but because when she speaks it, it’s officially there, written out in the sky, heaven coming to collect on its bet.

“I love your tattoos,” she starts, tentatively. She unhooks one of her arms from around his neck and touches at the skin on his arm, tracing the outline of a white daisy. “I love that you did it as a way to remember your mother; I love that you were brave enough to put the iris on your heart, even when I wasn’t sure how to receive that.” She reaches up to trail her fingers along his brows. “I love your eyes. I love the look of them, the fact that I can’t actually name what color they are; I love the way you look at me, how you can tell my feelings by just watching me, how it seems like I’m the only one you see whenever we’re out together.” She lets a nail trace the outline of his mouth, dropping her hand to rest on the back of his neck. “I love your mouth too; the way you always say things that make me feel beautiful or smart or loved.” She licks her lips again. “Or make me blush, like when you’re saying those dirty things when you’re…”

Barry gives her a deep smirk, those eyes flashing in a way that makes Iris’s body clench. Her thighs close around him.

“Like me saying those dirty things when I’m…?”

She rocks her hips. “You know.”

“I do,” he nods, “but I want to hear you say it.” He grinds up into her. “When I’m what, baby?”

“When,” she licks her lips again, slower this time, buoyed by the way his eyes darken, “you fuck me.”

“Mmmm,” Barry groans and then his grin changes to something a little indecent, darker and dirtier. “You know what else I love?”

Iris shakes her head, though she thinks she does.

“I love the way you respond to me, when I’m saying those dirty things to you when I’m fucking you.”

Iris rocks her hips again and she knows that it’s an involuntary moment. Because, like always, she responds to him easily, fluidly, like they’ve become extensions of the other.

Barry fingers at the hem of her dress sitting around her thighs. “Take this off,” he demands. “I want to show you how you look.”

Even with her brows furrowed in confusion, she does what he says, pulling the dress up and over her head. She reveals to him her bra and panty set, a dark green that even she thinks makes her skin glow. He fingers the lace at the top of the cups of her bra, at the same piping along her hips.

“As pretty as this is,” he murmurs, “I want it gone too.”

She unhooks the bra first, staring back at him. She tosses the bra on the bed beside them, her breasts sitting heavy on her chest, nipples already pointing out at him, seeking him, his fingers or his tongue or the nip of his teeth.

He helps her off of him so that she can take her panties off. Then, instead of letting her climb back on top of him, however, he positions himself so that he’s facing the side of the bed. He pulls her to him and sits her so she is sitting between his open knees, her back to his chest.

This brings a different part of the room into focus. Iris has always paid more attention to the wall length window on the other side of the room, the one that Barry will open when they’re together sometimes, taunting her with the eyes she’s sure she’s seen peeking through their blinds and his. The bed sits on a platform facing front, a television mounted on the wall above a stand that holds his game consoles and a few other knick knacks. But on the other side, there’s a bookshelf, above which hangs a mirror. Of course Iris has known it was there, has looked into it as she’s done her makeup or straightened one of Barry’s stolen shirts on her. But it looks almost dangerous now, only in that she can only imagine what Barry has planned for it. In the mirror, she can see all of her. It’s not an extremely large mirror, but it spans the length of the bookshelf and it’s just high enough that, on the bed, Iris can see both of their bodies.

“Barry?” she questions as she looks over her shoulder at him.

“I know you like it when other people watch,” he says, and she almost rolls her eyes at the smug, laughing look on his face. “But I want you to watch you right now. To see yourself the way I do; to see why I felt so compelled to come to you that first night.”

Iris’s lips quirk up slightly. “I didn’t look like this the first night you saw me.”

“I’ve got a great imagination,” Barry winks.

Ignoring his statement,

(but not the way her heart fills with love for him, the kind that sits heavy in her chest, bold and open; the kind that stays strong in her belly, flipping and fluttering and always present; the kind that dips low in her sex, warm and wet and wanting)

Iris turns back to the mirror and catalogs what she sees: her naked body cocooned in his fully clothed one; her brown eyes bright with anticipation, his darkened with barely disguised lust. There are still traces of her lipstick on her full mouth, and some of it is on Barry too, a look that shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. The fabric of his clothes are so soft on her bare skin, and the warmth of the heat through the room only serves to heighten her desire. Barry moves her hands, throws them over either side of his thighs, and uses his to open her legs; the move puts her even more on display, the gold necklace she’s been wearing all day nestled in between her breasts, her belly taut, the pinkish brown lips of her pussy already slick.

Barry circles a hand gently around her throat at the same time that he palms the inside of one of her thighs, holding her open, rubbing gently at her skin.

“I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you,” Barry says to her, whispers it, his voice soft in her ear. “I admit I was drunk that first night, but I saw you and it was like, like the entire world came into focus. I think my body knew I would love you before the rest of me could even deny it. And, by some miracle, I got you to take me home with you.”

He touches her lightly on her neck and then moves down, the tips of his fingers feeling on her breasts until he circles a nipple. She gasps, the sound more like a low moan, and Barry smiles at it.

“You were so responsive,” he explains. “I’ve never seen anything like the way you respond to me; it’s so electrifying, baby.”

He circles one nipple with the rough pad of his fingers, pinches at it until it fully hardens, the action almost painful in that she needs more. He moves to the other nipple, does the same thing, and Iris grinds her hips, hoping to move the hand still gliding on her thigh closer to where she always wants him.

“It can be the slightest touch,” he continues, running his nails down the space between her breasts. She proves his point, whimpering a little as he glides down to her belly, and then up again, adding a finger as he goes down once more, and then up. It should not feel like this, such an innocuous move. But he’s right; she’s so responsive to him. This ghost of a touch, just the barest hint of his fingers on her, and she’s heated, her thighs quaking, her sex fluttering.

“Barry,” she sighs, catching her gaze through the mirror. He licks those pink lips, eyes honed in on her, and in that moment, she sees that it is mutual. However true it is that she so easily reacts to him, he is not unaffected. He is, just as much as she is, the truth of it right there in his wrecked countenance: the burning gray of his eyes, the pink flush of his cheeks, the colorful bunch of the tattoos on his arm as he holds her tight.

“I’m in love with this pussy, too,” he mumbles into her neck, his pale hands moving to grip her thighs. The sight of it is a touch obscene, his lightly tanned skin on the umber of hers, his long fingers pressing into her flesh. He doesn’t touch her sex, not right away. Instead, he squeezes her thighs before repeating his pattern of running his fingers up and down, up and down again.

“Look at it,” Barry groans, and she watches his gaze go down to her before she looks at herself. She knows her own body, but Iris has never looked at herself like this, has never spread her legs in front of a mirror when her lips were wet like this, flushed red like this, puckered open as if begging for the stretch of his cock.

“Look at how pretty you are, baby.” His voice sounds like music to her. “Look at how slick you get for me; how open you get for me.”

“Bear,” Iris moans.

He chuckles. “I know. I wanna fuck you right now too.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I’m not finished playing.”

Iris gripes at that, throwing her head back on his shoulder and canting her hips toward his hand.

“No, be a good girl for me, Iris.” Those nimble fingers inch toward the middle of her. “Be a good girl and keep looking while I finish playing.”

He waits until she looks back at the mirror and then he starts. That first touch to her sends electricity coursing through her. He swipes a finger straight up the middle of her slit and she jerks, followed quickly by a limb-loosening moan when Barry sucks the digit in his mouth.

“I love the taste of it,” Barry says.

He reaches back down again, uses his index and ring fingers to hold her open and then dips his middle finger into her. He fucks that finger into her slowly, rubbing against her walls as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of her, gathering the slick of her on that finger.

“I love the feel of it.”

He shifts to use all three of those fingers, dipping them in her wet and rubbing them over her. This is where he finds his rhythm. Iris catches, and this time holds, the sight of them in the glass. Her hair is a curly mess, the strands hanging loose and tangled around her head. Her lips are swollen from how often she keeps tugging the bottom one between her teeth, her chest heaving as she prays for release. In all of that, Iris swears she’s glowing, eyes darkened and alight, her entire body lit with pleasure, bringing out the honeyed undertones in her skin. She looks raw. She looks fucked. She looks like a woman who sings out whenever she can, you woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me.

And Barry holds on to her, fingers moving a little erratically, going between fucking his fingers into her and massaging her swollen clit with his wet fingers. All of it is, a lot, the way his fingers look slicker and slicker until she’s dripping down onto his wrists, the way that their different skin colors seem to matter right now only in how erotic the contrast looks right now.

“Come, baby,” Barry says. “And watch yourself.”

She does, watches herself as she comes, watches Barry watch her as she does. And it’s as beautiful as he says. Because she looks like a woman drowning in bliss, a woman draped in desire, the look of it hugging like a second skin. She looks like the way women might be described in romance novels, so satisfied she can’t think of anything other than being wrapped up in the man giving her the satisfaction. She looks like the woman in some fantasy or dream, ascending the clouds, spread out and open in an expanse of blue. She sings it in her head, you school me, give me things to think about; invite me, you ignite me, co-write me, you love me, you like me; incite me to chorus, at the same time that she sings out loud, “god, Bear, baby yes,” her eyes fluttering closed at only the very last minute.

“I love you,” Barry tells her, after, as she blinks through the haze of her orgasm.

With low, shaky limbs, she turns around, crawling on top of him and pulling him out of his sweatpants only enough that she can slide down the length of his dick. He stretches her, even as wet as she is, her cream coating him. Then he wraps his arms around her, pulling her down to him, all the way until there is only the ocean blue shade of his eyes filling her gaze, so different from the molten whiskey of hers, though nothing in Iris doubts that the same expression shines in both of them: that of a craving for this to last until the last breath shudders from their bodies, that of the love that she hopes makes that dream come true.

“I love you too, Barry.”

And this time, they only watch each other, reading each other, their climax hurtling toward them with the sort of rugged elegance that has always accompanied her idea of love. It’s bliss, la, la, la; da, da, da; do, do, do.

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

“So Iris, tell me,” Alexa May starts. Iris inclines her head as she awaits Alexa’s question, the other woman’s gaze kind and curious. “Are any of the stories on your blog particularly personal to you?” James Broderick nods his head at the question.

“Well, they’re all personal to me,” Iris tells her with a side grin. “But I assume you’re asking if one of the stories I’ve written is particular to my life?”

“Exactly,” Alexa gives her her own smirk.

Iris shakes her head, pauses for a minute as she decides how much she wants to say on a widespread television

“None of them are,” she says, carefully. “But I’m working on one.”

Both Alexa and James’s blue eyes light with interest.

“Oh really?” James questions.

Alexa leans toward her, crossing her slim legs and settling her elbows on her thighs. “Is it a love story?”

“It is,” Iris laughs softly. “It’s a story still being written, so I don’t want to give too much away. But I can tell you that it’s about two people who’ve found something neither had been particularly expecting. It’s about two people who’ve struggled to find acceptance in different ways, to fight through the pain they’ve experienced. It’s about two people who feel into each other’s lives in one of the easiest ways possible, like puzzle pieces clicking or locks being secured or some other metaphor for two people who just… fall into place.” There’s a round of sweet chuckles from Alexa and some of the other guests. “Most importantly, though, it’s about two people who’ve stumbled right into something out of a storybook, something that can only be described as love.”

There is a pause. And then Alexa sighs. “God, that’s beautiful.”

Iris presses a hand to her heart, trying to keep in the surge of emotion that floods through her in that moment.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “So are we.”

“And there you have it, viewers,” James says, pulling the attention away. “Keep a lookout for that love story on What a Life You’ve Lived. Thank you all so much for watching. We’ll be right back.”

You're different and special

You're different and special in every way imaginable

You love me from my hair follicles to my toenails

You got me feeling like the breeze, easy and free and lovely and new

Oh when you touch me I just can't control it

When you touch me, I just can't hold it

The emotion inside of me, I can feel it

#westallen fanfiction #strangers to lovers #iris west #barry x iris #barry allen

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apsidee · 3 years

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i listened to the first episode of season 2 this morning with my friend i’ll put my thoughts below the cut, because, well, spoilers ;)

ok so first of all. pretty much all of my more realistic guesses for how season 2 would start were correct! i called it! gee its almost like i listened to season 1 a dozen times and also spent a ton of time thinking about it i figured they would start with a minor fakeout of sorts by looking at a character that is not utterly doomed. so i was thinking moc weepe or imelda, although spahr would be in a similar position so he was included in my guess.

i was so thrilled to hear about imelda, this whole setup has pretty much turned everything out entirely in her favor and i love it. shes such a #girlboss. i go insane every time she’s mentioned, almost died in the first minute of the episode. ive actually been working on a drawing of her over the last week so i might be able to finish that tonight lol

and as for phineas i was just talking with my friend last night about where he would end up in all of this. my take was that it would be funny but extremely unlikely if he ended up escaping with lark (which i found unlikely because it was mentioned that lark had a ship so i assumed she would be leaving through that), but if he did end up with lark and tzila then there would be a dynamic of complete and utter non-communication between them all. phineas would still be in a dissociative fugue state, and if lark didnt just kill him outright then he’d be tied up and held at gunpoint lol. and neither of them would tell tzila what he did to sherman, though lark would be incredibly angry in his general direction.

so my more reasonable guess was that phineas would end up hanging out with saskia. as me and my friend were talking we decided that saskia would initially almost just kill him straight away, would see how completely out of it phineas is right now, and would hold off on the murder but still make him prove himself. although i did think that saskia would have had a ship stashed away or something, but i think its better that she instead tried to get everyone to shelter.

and i gotta say, i love how good saskia is. she’s such a good person, probably the most good person in the cast. i want to give her a hug. she just wants to save everyone so bad. well, except for phineas, but thats understandable. i like that she almost just condemned him straight away, but then gave him a task to do instead, impossible as it is (see, he’s gotta prove himself to her!).

i love phineas’s feat of athletic prowess to get onto the cable car. its so extremely funny that all this man does is feel anxious and compulsively exercise. also as we were listening, as soon as he missed the cable car i was like ‘big zipline’ and then mere moments later i was right :) though to be fair i think a lot about the fact that the company members just zipline across the endless abyss all the time (do you think they fall off sometimes? maybe the company has a high turnover rate simply because guys just keep falling right off the ziplines).

and then lark! she holds him at gunpoint. it really isnt phineas’s day, at all. lark being in the mailcar makes a lot of sense, though i also wasn’t anticipating it at all. i wonder if tzila’s in there with her

overall fantastic episode, pretty much everything i was hoping for!! the only things i was kind of hoping for that weren’t in the episode would be a glance at how jonas spahr is doing, and also i was kind of hoping that phineas would get caught up the tearror a little bit so that he could get a fun little tearror effect like the other two protagonists have. but there is still time for both of those things to happen, especially since phin is in the fold now :)

and then one final thing i really enjoyed about this episode: you could tell that all the narrators were really having fun with it. midst really sounds like its a shared passion project and thats one of the things that makes it an absolute joy to listen to! i’m excited to go and make more fanart for midst. i’ve got a lot of ideas already!

#midst podcast #midst spoilers #idk if any of this is coherent but i was too excited to type slowly :)

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generallybarzy · 4 years

Text

smile like sunshine v

Wednesday: ~8.2k

previous chapters: i // ii // iii // iv

an: Here it is!!! Sorry it took so long, I had stuff going on and started a new job and everything, but I think the final product is worth the wait. From here on out there’s gonna be a warning for nsfw stuff and lowkey smut (no spoilers though). Buckle up kiddos. @thirteenisles thanks for proofreading this!!!!!

summary: It’s your 21st birthday, and you want to spend some alone time with Mat! As the days of your trip keep rolling by, it becomes harder and harder to suppress the fantasies, the feelings you had towards him: desire, longing, lust, love. It’s getting harder and harder to fight your feelings, and even the alcohol doesn’t do much to help you ignore Mat. In fact, the alcohol might have made it worse...

It’s 2019, exactly eleven years after your tenth birthday, and Mat is determined to make this year even better than before.

The first thing you felt was his lips on yours.

You’d remember the softness, the care, for years to come, maybe even- dare you say- for the rest of your life. They were so gentle, so caring, moving against yours, pushing and pulling like the tides, while his fingers grazed across your jaw and his big hands cupping your face to pull you deeper into his mouth; to mold your face- your body- against his.

When you pulled back to take a breath, you caught a glimpse of his eyes, kind and searching, filled with questions he’d never ask. You wanted to ask what was wrong, you wanted to get him to spill his words, spill his heart in front of you, but your throat closed up and no words came. Instead, you were back on his mouth with more desperate longing than before- filling the hole of unspoken words with passion and need. His mouth was inviting, caressing, and warm, his lips hopeful and confident against yours. But when the kiss was broken and you leaned back to look at the face cradled between your palms, something struck you.

There was nothing familiar about this face. In fact, there were no distinguishing features at all. What color were his eyes? What did his hair look like? Who was this? You couldn’t say. All you could tell was what it felt like to have his mouth on yours.

The breeze ruffled your hair, the waves crashed on the beach, and finally, you could hear his voice:

“Baby.” There it was, the familiarity, the warmth of his words, and the soothingness of his voice oozing over you, making your heart sickly sweet and saccharine. “Baby.” He repeated it over and over again, and you could listen to him say it over and over again, marveling at how right it sounded coming from his lips. The effect he had on you with just his voice- his mere presence even- would never cease to amaze you.

And there he was.

“Mat.” You reached for him, only hoping your voice had the same effect on him that he had on you.

He reached for you, and his touch ignited fires along your skin, both hot and cold where his fingertips grazed along your arm.

You touched his chest, slid your hand across tight pectorals and down, down to the taut muscles of his abdomen. If you’ve ever seen anyone built like a Greek God, it was him. Golden and built, he was never one to brag, though he certainly had plenty to brag about. His smile- gleaming white, perfect and teasing, always able to make your heart flutter- had your knees giving out beneath you, but he caught you with his strong, waiting arms. His words, smooth and sweet like honey, coated your body and had your clothes all but sliding off of your body on their own. His big hands had you squirming and begging silently with pleading eyes, as he kneaded and caressed your skin with touches at the same time overwhelmingly gentle and rough. And he happily obliged to your begging. The ‘V’ at his hips made your body flutter in need, made you giddy and excited. You knew what lay beyond, that ‘V’, and you knew how good it would feel when you finally connected. When you finally found each other and nodded your consent to have him sink against you, foreheads touching and breath mingling. When you finally became one being together.

You were weightless, floating in the air together as he held you against him, your bodies molding together perfectly, pushing and pulling with you, rocking breathlessly with each other. There was no desperation, no rush- you had each other and you had time, all the time in the world- and he was hot and heavy and slow inside of you. And with your bodies molded into each other tightly, you were able to push and pull steadily, all the way to the end, when sweat beaded on your foreheads, your breath came out in short pants against each other’s mouths, your hands tangled together and through each other’s hair, and your hearts glowed, complete and absolutely ready to let go together.

“(Y/N).”

“Mat.”

“(Y/N)?” He kept saying it, over and over, until his lips froze in place and his questioning face began to fade from your view, his hands dissolving from your body, leaving you empty and alone and on the edge, with his voice rumbling through your ear. “(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N).”

You opened your eyes.

“(Y/N). Hey, wake up, birthday girl!”

You groaned, rolling over and pulling the pillow over your face, trying your hardest to ignore the dull throbbing in your core. Right there? He had to wake you up right there? Fuck, it felt so real. You could practically feel his hands, feel his body beneath your fingers, feel his- “C’mon, we’ve got stuff to do today, sleepyhead!”

You couldn’t even look at him after that dream. That dream of your best friend kissing you, touching you, loving you. He had looked so real, he had felt so real. How could you just go about your day as if you hadn’t dreamt of that? As if you hadn’t felt that? God, he had no idea, did he? You pulled the pillow away, and there he was.

Just as beautiful as always.

He was sitting cross-legged at the foot of your bed, toying with the edge of your sheets. His skin had tanned gorgeously in the past days and looked so golden and warm to the touch, his hair falling dark and wavy onto his forehead until he reached up and pushed it back. The way his fingers slid so smoothly through the black locks just proved they were as soft as you’d always suspected, and it was an internal battle to not reach up and let your hands glide through them yourself. His hazel eyes locked with yours with a mischievous gleam, and you were so caught up in the golden brown-green mix that you didn’t even catch the little smirk on his moving lips.

“Hey, sleepyhead, focus.”

“‘S’too early…”

“It’s nine o’clock.” He laughed and dodged the pillow you’d thrown. “Hey, you’re finally twenty-one! We can drink together tonight!”

“Stupid U.S. drinking age…”

He laughed again. Ever since the first time you reconnected with him in that bar last year, he’d always teased you about still being a year too young to drink with him. “C’mon, I’m taking you out today.”

“To drink?”

“Not yet, that happens later. First, I’ve got stuff planned for the next few hours. We’re going to the boardwalk, for old time’s sake.” Out of seemingly nowhere, he grabbed the cute outfit he’d bought for you your first day here and tossed it towards you. “Get dressed, let’s go recreate some memories!” It took everything in you not to stare when he stood up to leave and you realized he was only wearing boxer briefs with his tee-shirt.

Fuck, you were gonna have to drink a lot tonight to forget about that dream…

You had celebrated your birthday with Mat once before, when you were turning ten years old. Even back then, you realized, Mat had always made it his job to hype you up and make sure you had the best day possible.

You woke up on the morning of your tenth birthday to knocking at the back door of your family’s beach house, and when your parents called you to the door he greeted you with a big, bright smile. His smile. A smile like sunshine. “Happy birthday! You hit double digits! We’re doing whatever you want all day!”

That wasn’t entirely true, you knew even as a child. You would’ve been content hanging out with him on the beach and not doing anything birthday related, but what he wanted for you was so much more than what you wanted for yourself.

After hanging out for only a week so far, this boy already wanted the best for you.

“Please, please!” Mat tugged at his mom’s sleeve, whining and begging until he got her attention. He was stubborn but cute, and it wasn’t hard for him to get his way. His mom was talking with yours and watching Mat’s younger sister, and your mom was holding one of your younger siblings in her arms. Both his parents and yours seemed to have their attention on the younger children rather than the two of you, but that was fine because you had each other. “We wanna go to the boardwalk! It’s (Y/N)’s birthday, we wanna do something!”

The parents exchanged glances- finally looking down to you and Mat- and it didn’t take long for them to cave. The boardwalk- with all its carnival games and snacks and beautiful view of the ocean- would be fun for all the kids, they decided.

You and Mat shouted in excitement as you walked hand in hand together, gleeful and carefree, smiling as bright as the sun and pointing at rides you wanted to go on and games you wanted to play. You had the whole day to yourselves, it seemed, even though your parents were only feet behind you, watching the two of you skip next to the ocean, hand in hand and eating ice cream, squealing when it started to melt in the sun and racing each other to finish first before it dripped all over your hands.

They knew how much you cared for each other- it was cute- and if you two were any older it could’ve been a problem, but luckily that wasn’t the case.

If only you could be that carefree and innocent for the rest of your life.

Now, at 21 years old, it was obvious Mat still cared that much for you, and set higher standards for everyone around you than you set for them yourself. He was always the one to correct people if they were wrong about something you wanted or something you ordered, and was the first to tell you when he suspected someone had less than decent intentions at a bar. He always asked if you were having fun when you were all out with friends, and he always kept a watchful eye on you. He always wanted you to be alright. He always wanted everything to be perfect for you.

You were sure he was just taking his place of being the big brother you never had, but part of your hopeless romantic mind- that you constantly shook away- hoped it meant more.

"Oh, woah, I haven't been here in a long time." You watched Mat's cute face as he glanced around, squinting his pretty hazel eyes in the sunshine from beneath his hat. The boardwalk that had been the sight of yours and Mat’s childhood summer all those years ago was a long, wooden walkway, running parallel to the beach and bordered on the other side with food vendors and touristy gift shops, and once you walked far enough, one end was filled with carnival-like games and rides that had been plenty of fun when you were children. "It hasn't changed much since we were kids, has it?"

"No, not really."

“It’s like we stepped back in time.” You watched him reach two fingers up to tuck a loose strand of dark hair into his hat, mesmerized with how gentle his touches were. He had a small, gentle smile on his face, seeming completely at peace and calm. Spending the past few days in the humidity and salty air had his hair all fluffy and just begging you to touch them and he was currently sporting some really cute, short, beachy waves that suited him so well. His skin had tanned gorgeously and you really weren’t sure how you were going to last three more days with him.

Only three more days? You could’ve sworn you just got here. Fuck, time seemed to pass so quickly whenever you were here, whenever you were with Mat. Only need to ignore him for three more days, (Y/N). you thought to yourself. Only three more days, and then you can forget about this silly crush. No use in ruining a great friendship for the sake of some summer fling.

You shook away the thoughts and decided to focus on the moment, to make every second with him count before you were back to work and Mat was back to practice and games and his other friends. “So, what do you have planned for me?”

Mat had been watching you think, wondering what it was that had you scrunching your face up so cutely like that, before he heard the words leave your lips. “Actually, it’s right here. I was searching up things we could do together here and this sounded perfect…” The smile in his voice made you nervous- there was barely a moment with him where he played it safe, and he was never one to back away from challenges, so you could only guess what he had in store. But you didn’t have much time to guess before the roller skate rental booth came into sight.

“No way, Mat.”

“Yep.” He popped the ‘P’, pulling out his wallet. “Remember the first time we met up in that coffee shop, the day after you found me? When you dared me to teach you how to skate?”

You did.

You had been sitting by the window with your drink, giddy and excited over everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. A simple hockey game with your roommate had turned into a reunification with your friend from ten years ago, who had obviously made it big places in his life since then. Despite the joy and relief you felt after finally knowing who he was and knowing he still remembered you, you were nervous about the thought of reconnecting with Mat- what if he was a dick, or tried to hit on you, or was just… different? He certainly couldn’t be the same as he was ten years ago, after all the awards and trophies and high expectations, all the fans wearing his jersey and all the merch with his name on it. That type of attention gets to your head and changes people, doesn’t it? Then Mat sat down across from you, and, at his appearance, you set your phone down and looked up at him with an adorable awestruck smile Mat could still remember to this day. “Holy shit, Mat, I googled you last night.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to seem creepy, but I just figured out one of my childhood best friends turned into this huge NHL star, how could I resist it?”

“Star?” He smiled from where he sat across from you, running a hand through his hair. “Damn, you really shouldn’t have. Now you probably think I’m a pretentious dick. I’m not really that big and famous.”

The way he waved his hand and pushed away any thought that he was this big, grand all star and kept his humility made you smile. “Um, I‘m sure you are. You’re like, a big name in hockey right now, aren’t you? I watched some game highlights of you. I don’t understand a lot about hockey, but I’m pretty sure other people know what they're talking about- like my roommate who brought me to the game last night- and they seemed to be really impressed with you. Apparently you’re only expected to get better, too” He only shrugged, smiling. He knew he was good, sure, but to hear you compliment him like this was making him so unbelievably happy. You were proud of him, and that made a certain nostalgic part of his heart glow.

“Well, I told back then I was gonna make it, didn’t I? Guess I was right.“

“Yeah, you were.” You took a moment to let it sink in that you were here with Mat again, after all these years. And in that moment, it felt like you were ten again, sitting across from Mat and sharing secrets at the picnic table on the beach while your families chatted and made lunch. Time passed by much too quickly, you decided, and you wanted to make every second with him count. “I don’t know how much this means to you- since we barely know each other and all- but I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah? Good.”

“I don’t understand how you can just… well, first of all, skate so damn well and then also do all that fancy stuff with the puck at the same time. The only time I tried to skate, it was bad. Like, really ugly.”

“Oh yeah?” A laugh bubbled from his lips, one that would have your knees shaking had you not been sitting down. “Guess I’ll have to teach you sometime, how about that?” Mat had a flirtatious tone in his voice that made your cheeks warm, very obviously asking you out again, but back then you had either ignored or been oblivious to it, thinking it was only a friendly suggestion.

“I dare you.”

“Ooh, okay, bet. Challenge accepted.”

“Yeah? Good luck, I’m pretty unteachable when it comes to that.”

“I promise, once I’m done with you, you’ll be a star.” He laughed, a playful gleam in his eyes as he added a final sentence. “Just like me.”

“Shit, I did dare you to give me skating lessons, didn’t I?”

“Well, since I can’t exactly teach you to ice skate out here, might as well try this, right? Rollerblades are the closest thing.” He turned to the man behind the counter and handed him the money for the rentals before coming back and handing you your pair.

“So of all the things we could do on my birthday, you decided to put me through misery?”

He laughed at your joking dramatics. “Yeah, absolutely. Tough love, right?”

If someone had told you a year ago that you’d be learning to skate with an NHL star, you would have laughed in their face. You? Skating? That just wasn’t something that happened. But you weren’t gonna lie, ever since the moment Mat promised to teach you, you’d been fantasizing about this moment. Mat’s big hands on your waist, your hips, in your hands, pushing and pulling you along and steadying you so you wouldn’t fall. You, tripping and falling into his chest and laughing with him as he held you up. Making soft eye contact as you leaned up and smiled into a kiss against his lips-

“(Y/N).” You snapped out of your thoughts to look at Mat. Obviously, his legs were accustomed to skating after years and years of playing hockey, and he was already rollerblading in circles in front of you, absolutely amazing at it and completely in his comfort zone. Shit, his legs were so strong and thick and hot… “You can’t exactly learn to skate while sitting there, ya know.”

You caught the glint of amusement in Mat’s hazel eyes and rose to your feet, wobbly and off-balance and already almost falling. “Well then help me out a bit. Not everyone’s a star like you.”

“Not yet.”

His hands fell heavily onto your hips, so big and strong that it seemed as if he could break you with only a touch, and he steadied you against him- body to hard body- until you stopped shaking and were balanced evenly on the ground. Then, his hands slid off of you and he backed away, taking your hands in his. You felt so small, so delicate and fragile compared to him, and the way his hands could easily encase yours made you feel so safe, and you once again found yourself trusting him to do absolutely anything.

“Okay, come on. Just like you’re walking, but…” His words glided over you like honey, thick and smooth in the warm air, and you could barely focus on what he was saying, too caught up in the way it felt to hold his hand and the way he looked down at you and had you weak in the knees. Your mind floated back to your dream last night, still vivid and so, so realistic in your head. The way he touched you, caressed you, the way his thick fingers dug into your hips to tug you closer to him, the way he held your hand and locked eyes with you… “You’re doing good so far.”

“Yeah, until you let go of me.”

“Well, then I guess I just won’t.”

And he didn’t.

The two of you skated and laughed in the sunshine for what felt like forever, and you decided quickly that if you ever needed to go to a happy place in your mind, it would be right here, right now, rollerblading face to face with Mat, his hands holding you steady, his eyes on you as he skated backwards. “You’re doing great, damn, you’re not that hard to teach, actually.” He kept complimenting you, only adding to the red in your cheeks. How dare he go around looking so cute and complimenting you so nicely? He certainly wasn’t helping your growing feelings. Can’t he have just one flaw? Just one deal breaker so this stupid crush could be over with?

Without warning, Mat let go of your hands, leaving you to panic and stumble. “Mat, what the hell!” You grabbed for his arm frantically as you started to lose your balance.

“Just wanted to see how you’d fare on your own. C’mon, I know you can do it without my help.” He left his spot in front of you and came to your side, smiling down at you and delicately peeling your arms off of him.

“No, no at least hold my hand, Mat.”

“Alright. But I'm not pulling you anymore. You’re better than you think.” He wrapped one hand around yours, your forearms resting against each other in a gentle embrace and his face warmed up at the simple contact. Fuck, he would gladly hold your hand forever if he could. If that’s what you wanted. Maybe all this had all just subconsciously been an elaborate plan to allow him to hold your hand. “There you go. See, you’re great!”

“Define great.”

He laughed, and the two of you continued your little trip down the boardwalk. It wasn’t long before you hit the carnival area, where there were rides and games and food stands and prizes to win, and you were quickly reminded how childish Mat could be, as you watched his eyes dart around in glee, pointing out all the different things you could do. “Oooh, you want me to win you a big ass teddy bear?”

“No, Mat.”

“What about a fish?”

“No, Mat, I’m fine! Having you here is enough of a present.”

Mat’s heart almost burst at your little compliment, and he smiled for a moment, his face turning pink. His hand squeezed around yours in acknowledgment, a tiny thank you, an ‘I feel the same way’. ”Why don’t you make it over to that bench without my help and then we’ll rest for a little, alright?” Mat had to physically restrain himself from adding “baby” to the end of his sentence. No, he couldn’t call you that. Not out loud. Not yet.

“Alright, I’ll try.”

Yeah, you were actually pretty good at rollerblading now. Well, not pretty good, but you were good enough to do it by yourself. You just really, really wanted to hold Mat’s hand. “Whew! You’re actually not as bad a student as you told me.” Mat laughed and pulled you into a celebratory hug with a little cheer when you made it to the bench.

“Well, you’re a pretty good teacher, Maty.”

“How about we finish this lesson later? Let’s get you some ice cream as a reward for going through that for my amusement? For old time’s sake?”

“Yeah, I absolutely deserve ice cream. You think you still remember my favorite flavor?.” Mat’s face lit up at the suggestion of a challenge- though you’d been half joking. He was never one to shy away from dares.

“Ooh, okay, bet. Stay here. I’ll get them for us.” Before you could even open your mouth and insist you pay for your share, he was holding up a hand to shut you up. “Yes, I’m paying for you. It’s your birthday, let me treat you.”

“Alright, fine, fine.” You held up your hands in mock surrender. “And don’t worry. I’ll eat whatever flavor you get me, even if it’s wrong.”

“It won’t be wrong. Trust me.”

And oh, you trusted him.

So you sat and stared after him, caught in a trance as he rolled so gracefully to where the line was and watching from a distance at the way his lips moved when he talked- wondering how they would feel against your own, if it would feel the same as it did in your dream- the way they curled up at the ends in a polite little smile when he was handed the two cones. When he finally came back over to you, asking “Did I get it right, (Y/N)?” and watching your reaction, something else caught your eyes: the familiar pink hue of his ice cream.

“Oh my god, Mat!” His face twisted momentarily into a worried expression, but lightened up into a smile when he heard the laughter bubbling onto your lips. “I can’t believe you still get bubblegum ice cream!”

He let out his own laugh, sitting down next to you and handing you your cone. "Hey! Don't diss it 'till you try it!"

"No, I did try it! I tried it because of you, remember?” A vivid memory popped into Mat’s head of the two of you, sitting very close to this exact spot and licking the ice cream off of your hands as it melted in the sun. You had begged him to try it, intrigued by the colorful look and the fact that you’d never heard of this flavor before, and he happily swapped cones with you until your parents realized and scolded the two of you about germs. “I’m just pretty sure you're the only grown man I know who would admit to liking that flavor.”

“Yeah? Well, they just don’t know how fucking delicious it is.”

You smiled at the ground, at how unbelievable it was that you still remembered all these small, seemingly insignificant details about him after so many years. From the first picture you saw of him when you recognized the gleam of his hazel eyes, the way his lips moved when he smiled, to this very moment that had you looking back at the first days of your friendship, you realized you still remembered things about him that you couldn’t even remember about your closest friends. His favorite flavor of ice cream, every little nervous tick, the way he constantly fidgeted his hands and scratched his face, every little quirk of his. “It’s actually been a while since I had that, you know.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I have to remind you what it tastes like.”

“Maybe you do.”

“Only if you let me try yours again.”

So Mat extended his arm for you and you extended yours, and the way you locked eyes with a mischievous smile before licking each other’s ice cream cones felt way, way too intimate for what was just a simple cute gesture that you’d done as kids.

Some things never change, but your feelings sure do.

The walk back home was fun- as everything was when Mat was there- fun and nostalgic. Your conversation focused mainly on the summer you met, how much fun you had, and how much you changed. You’d never been one to celebrate your birthday, not with a party anyway, but obviously, Mat wanted more for you than you wanted for yourself, so the second you stepped back into the house, smiling and laughing, mid-conversation with Mat, you were startled.

“Surprise!”

“Holy shit.”

The house had been decorated- it was simple, but still memorable- with generic birthday decorations and balloons, much like the party you’d had at ten years old, when the only person you could celebrate with was Mat. Your family was standing around the table, where there were chips, ice cream, cake and- of course- alcohol. You glanced over at Mat, who had that classic, cheeky grin across his face. Of course he would.

“Happy twenty-first!”

“Come on, birthday girl!” Your dad lit the candles on the cake. “Come make a wish.”

And wish you did. You closed your eyes and let out a breath and you wished for Mat’s hands in yours, Mat’s lips on yours, Mat’s body against yours, Mat’s heart loving yours. You wished for Mat.

“Alright, are you guys gonna let me drink today or what?”

Your family laughed as they dug into the cake and motioned to the alcoholic drinks set out on the table and you picked up a random bottle- some sort of flavored vodka?- but Mat came up from where he had been lingering behind you and took the drink out of your hands. “Let me mix something up for you that’s actually tasty, alright? You want your first time to be a good one, right?”

You tried to ignore the shiver that crept up your spine at his words, and having him so close behind you. “Ooh, you know how to mix drinks? A man of many talents.”

“Well, I know a few.” He gathered up some ingredient that you were sure he sent your parents to get while the two of you were gone. “I can make you something that tastes good, but if you drink enough it will have you fucked up beyond recognition by tonight. If you’re okay with that, anyway.”

You laughed. You were never the type to get fucked up drunk, but Mat made you brave, he made you adventurous, so why not? Anyway, you had spent the entire day lingering on the memories of your dream last night and blushing at whatever he did, so you needed to forget about this stupid crush and loosen up around him again. “Alrighty, Barzal. Fuck me up."

“I promise.”

Mat felt so nervous about getting you drunk tonight. Sure, it’s your twenty-first birthday and you were asking him to and he couldn’t wait to see what you were like drunk, but he also knew part of him was going to feel so guilty the next morning when you were hungover, and he didn’t want anything to happen to you. So he promised himself he was going to stay sober and keep an eye on you at all times tonight and make sure you’re alright. What kind of a friend would he be otherwise?

As Mat got to work mixing up a drink for you and shooed you out of the kitchen with a piece of birthday cake, you sat down on the back porch with your mom, looking out to the ocean and eating your cake in silence as she flipped through a book.

“That Mathew is quite the boy.”

“He is.”

“He’s always been this sweet to you, hasn’t he? Since you were nine.”

“Yeah. He’s pretty great.”

“You like him?” You glanced over to where your mom was smirking at you from her chair and heaved out a frustrated groan.

“Mom, I can be friends with a guy without being in love with them, you know.” And yeah, you could have male friends without being in love with them, but… Mat was an exception to that. He was the one male friend that you had less than platonic feelings for. Not that you’d admit it to her.

“Alright, alright.” She held up her hands in mock surrender and laughed. “But I’m just saying-”

“Mom, don’t-”

“-He’s much nicer to you than any of your past boyfriends were.” You went silent then, and you knew your mom had won the conversation. Yeah, Mat was better to you than any of your exes. Whether that was saying something about how bad your exes were of how good Mat is, you couldn’t be sure. No, your exes hadn’t been that bad. “I wonder if Mat would like to see these photos.”

“What photos?” You glanced over to what she was looking at and finally noticed the photo album from 2008. “Woah, look at us!”

There on the page in front of you were four of the many pictures of you and Mat as children. Obviously you had been the closest of friends, as there were hardly any pictures of either of you alone that summer. If you were there, Mat was there, and if Mat was there, you were there. That’s how it had gone that week. How your parents had ever managed to separate the two of you at the end of the week to drive home was beyond you. Your eyes lingered for a moment longer and the picture of the two of you standing in front of the sandcastle you’d built on the first day you met. Mat’s arm was over your shoulder, and yours over his, and he was smiling that same smile he had today, the one that was impossible to not smile back to. You felt as if you had been sucked back in time, and didn’t realize you were staring at the picture until you heard the door open and close.

“I got your drink.”

“Mat, you gotta look at these with me!” Your mom got up to leave the two of you alone, and you didn’t miss the smirk on her face before she disappeared into the house.

“No way, that’s us?” Mat sat down next to you, way, way too close for friends, practically pressing against your side. “We’re so young.”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. We were really close, huh?” And you were really close right now, too, sitting with your arms and thighs touching, half of his chest against your back. You scooted to the side a bit to make more room for him, but he stayed where he was, leaning over your shoulder to look at the pictures. “We’re still pretty close, aren’t we? I mean, in the last year or so we’ve really reconnected. I’d say you’re one of my best friends now.”

Best friends, best friends, best friends. That’s all you were, and that’s all you would stay. But that was alright with you, as long as you could still see him every day. “Aww, Mat. You’re not allowed to make me emotional on my birthday!”

“Sorry, sorry.” He smiled and had your heart fluttering in your chest. “Hey, hey, try your drink.” He handed you the glass and watched with a smile as you tasted it. “Is it good?”

“Yeah, it is actually. Is there even any alcohol in this? I can barely taste it.”

“Oh, yeah. After this, you’ll definitely be getting tipsy, trust me.”

“Great, thank you so much, Maty. But can we go on a walk when that happens? I don’t need my family to have blackmail of me.”

He laughed again, tossing a big arm over your shoulders and looking back to the pictures. “Anything for you.”

A few hours later, after the obligatory singing of the “Happy Birthday'' song and after you had eaten your pizza delivery for dinner, when you were sipping slowly on your second drink and were beginning to feel it, you and Mat walked down to the beach together, comfortable in the peaceful quietness that settled between you. Something you loved about Mat from the first day you met him was how there was never an awkward moment with him. No matter who you were, he always made you feel welcome and accepted and smiled and urged you on gently even as you stumbled over your words, his attention never leaving you. He always made you feel like you were the only person in the world, and you were grateful.

“Today was fun.”

“Party doesn’t start until you can’t walk straight, right?” Mat laughed, but deep inside he wasn’t sure he was ready to see you drunk. Before he could question why you wanted to get drunk so bad, or if there was something you wanted to get your mind off of, a small round object fell in front of his field of vision and a dog jumped up at him. “Oh, holy shit!”

“It’s not over yet. You haven’t even finished your second drink.”

“You’re right.” You giggled a little bit. “I can still walk in a straight line, so I’m not drunk enough.”

He heard you laugh next to him and his heart calmed down. “Don’t like dogs, Barzal?”

“I don’t…. dislike dogs.” He leaned down to pet it almost politely, like the way you would smile at a stranger when making eye contact with them on the street. “It just came up out of nowhere. Spooked me.”

“Yeah, alright. Spooked you.” You had no idea how this dog could look threatening to anybody- it was a small dog, but not a small dog like a chihuahua or anything, it was a golden retriever puppy and it was all fluffy and smiling it’s little puppy smile with big dark eyes. It was so cute. You knelt down to pet the dog and coo to it in a baby voice, and Mat’s heart almost melted at the sight.

“Hey, sorry!” The two of you looked up to see a young man- around your age- rushing down from a group of people hanging out on the beach. He leaned down to pick up the puppy, and Mat leaned down to grab the ball that had landed in front of the two of you.

“That’s fine! What’s your dog’s name?”

“Ah, this is Pippy! She’s about three months old!”

“Aww, she’s so cute!”

Mat hated the pang of jealousy he felt. He didn’t want to feel this way over a fucking dog, but he wished you looked at him the same way you were looking at that puppy right now. As Mat handed the ball back to him, he couldn’t help but glance up the beach and recognize what they had been playing. “Spikeball?”

“Yeah.” Before he turned around to head back up to his friends, he hesitated. “Actually, do you guys want to join in? My teammate’s getting tired of playing, so I could use another guy.”

“Yeah? What d’you think?” Mat glanced down at you as if asking permission. It was your birthday, after all.

“Well, I’m not any good at it.”

“Oh don’t worry.” The guy assured you. “None of us are.”

“Alright, sure. You have alcohol up there?”

“Oh yeah, Definitely.”

Before your worries could make you hesitate to join this group of strangers, you and Mat were exchanging names with your new, temporary friends. Normally, you couldn’t just immerse yourself within a group out of nowhere, so it was amazing how simple it was to make friends when the alcohol was making you braver. It was loud and hot and exciting when you played on Mat’s team, every now and then bumping into each other and laughing, cheeks burning and hearts heavy at the contact. The sun went down and darkness rolled in, and you had taken a break from playing and sat back on the sand with three other girls around the fire, sipping on a new drink- your last of the night, as you were definitely out of it now- and watching the boys.

“Nothing like watching the boys play, huh?” One of the girls spoke up from beside you, nudging your side. “Where’d you get a guy like that?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, girl!” Another spoke up, laughing a bit. “If you don’t mind me saying- Mat is so. Freaking. Hot. Like, hot damn. You’re so lucky.”

Oh. Oh, they thought Mat was your boyfriend. Your face heated up- no, scratch that. It was already flushed because of all the alcohol, and you looked up to where Mat was, shirtless and golden in the light of the fire, a radiant smile on his face as he competed with the other guys. You watched as his body stretched up in a little jump to hit the ball over to his partner, and took the moment to admire the way his muscles moved, trying to imagine how he would feel on you- on your body, your waist, your mouth, your core--

When you first started drinking tonight, it was in a desperate last attempt to get Mat off of your mind. To get yourself to loosen up a bit around him and not feel so flustered and shy whenever he was near. Maybe you thought it would make you forget him, but you were certainly wrong, because all the feelings you had before had only been heightened a hundred times since you started drinking, and now Mat was the only thing on your mind. This only thing you could focus on properly. In fact, the alcohol had opened the floodgates of lewd ideas and images of you and Mat that you had previously tried to keep locked away in a far part of your brain. This was your friend, you didn’t want to be thinking these things. But fuck it was so hard not to when he looked like that and acted like that and treated you like that.

“Yeah, he’s fucking hot alright.”

“I bet he’s packin’ too, right?”

You didn’t say yes or no to that, but the way your face split into a wide grin at the thought of what was beneath those shorts was enough to convince the girls you knew and had them whooping and cheering with laughter. In your drunken state, maybe you didn't realize you probably shouldn't be talking about your best friend's dick- which you hadn't even fully seen- but you really didn't care. "Yeah, the best dick out there."

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to dark, hot places. You’d definitely seen Mat in his underwear one or two times during your friendship, and had totally seen a dick print or outline here or there. So from what you could see of him… he must feel fucking good. His big hands gripping you, his fingers, his lips… his soft hair falling down against your stomach, his thighs. Everything about him made you hot and bothered. So you sat there, your cheeks hot and your body throbbing at just the mere idea of what he could do to you. The dream from last night popped into your head, the way, he held you so good, so tight, the way his fingers dug into your hips and pulled you in, the way he filled you up so good and had you crying out for more. It may have only been a dream, but fuck, it felt so real.

It was at this moment that Mat looked over from where he was standing to check up on you and saw you drunkenly smiling up at him from across the fire, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the state you were in. He turned back to the guys and motioned back to you. “Right, I think we should get going now.”

“Alright, it was fun!” And then, catching a glimpse of you stumbling to your feet behind Mat, they laughed. “Take care of your girlfriend, looks like she has a few too many tonight.”

Mat’s heart fluttered in his chest. ‘Your girlfriend. Your girlfriend. Your girlfriend.’ He could listen to people calling you his girlfriend forever. It suited you so well- he suited you so well. He would have sat and watched you and let his mind wander, but it was getting late, and he’d promised to have you home before midnight., so his only job right now was to keep you safe. So he was over by your side in seconds, not hesitating to secure an arm around your waist to steady you.

“C’mon, (Y/N).”

“Be safe you guys!”

Mat smiled as the two of you left your little group and headed back up the beach towards home. Wow, they thought you were dating. The two of you passed as boyfriend and girlfriend to strangers, and he didn’t even bother to correct them. Oh, god. He was so fucking ruined for you.

“You look good tonight, Mat.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle and stumbled into him, pressing your face into his side. Usually, Mat loved affection from you, but now, it felt wrong. He wanted you to hug him, he wanted you to be affectionate with him, but he wanted it when you were sober. He wanted you to be aware of what you were doing, and he didn’t want you to regret it the next morning. “Yeah? Thanks. You look nice too, even if you’re a little plastered.”

“Thanks, Matyyyyy.” Mat couldn’t help but laugh at how cute you were while drunk. “You always look nice, though. No matter what you’re wearing. Maybe you don’t even need to wear clothes. You’re always hot.” Hot. You thought he was hot. Yeah, Mat might have already known he was pretty good looking, but to hear you call him hot meant a lot to him. But… he just wished you weren’t drunk right now. He wished you were choosing to call him hot. Mat was silent for a little while, contemplating your words and trying to figure out what to reply with, when you stumbled and tripped through the sand, obviously too fucked to even walk straight by now, and Mat held you tighter to steady you again.

“God, your parents are gonna be pissed with me for getting you so wasted.”

“Ehh, fuck what they think! I just wanna have fun with youuu.” He smiled at your words and laughed as you hiccuped a little bit. "I had a dream about you last night. It was reaaaaally interesting."

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” The alcohol was messing with your senses, and it took only a moment for you to make the decision- the wrong decision- to open up about your dream. “It was hot. You were naked; we were naked. And we were goin’ at it, ya know? We were really goin’ at it.” Mat’s heart stopped, his breath hitched in his throat, and heat flooded through his body. You definitely didn’t mean to tell him that. You’d definitely regret that in the morning. He was definitely going to think of that tonight. “Oh no! You look worried! Don’t worry, you were really good!! Like, really good!”

“Okay, okay. Why don’t you wait till tomorrow to tell me?” He hushed you. As much as he wanted to know how that dream panned out, he also wanted to help you keep some of your dignity.

“I’m gonna forget tomorrow thooouuugh.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and Mat took the moments to try and steady his heart. “You know, Maty, there’s still one birthday gift I haven’t gotten from you.”

“What’s that?”

Before he could do anything else, you were stopping him in his tracks and reaching up to ball your fist into the collar of the unbuttoned shirt he had thrown on, pulling him down to you. He- like a fool- followed you easily, thinking you were trying to whisper something in his ear, but realized much too late that that wasn’t what you were trying to do. Much to Mat’s horror, you pressed your mouth against his- and, even worse, it felt so nice, so perfect. He had waited for months for this exact moment, and though your lips were soft and sweet against his and even more than he could have ever dreamed of, they still tasted like the drinks he had made for you, and your movements were messy and drunken.

Oh fuck, this was what he wanted, and he wanted it so, so bad, so it took everything he had in him to pull his focus away from the way your mouth felt against his, and way your fingers were gripping his hair, and push you back. He took the moment to hold you at arm's length, his hands on your wrists, and his eyebrows creased in thought as he took in the sight of your breathless little smile and glazed over eyes. You looked so happy to have kissed him, but he knew it was only the alcohol.

“Alright, let’s get you home.”

And with that, everything was back to normal as you walked together back to the house with his arm still comfortably around your shoulders. Normal. Could you ever really go back to being normal after this? You had kissed him. Mat had just been kissed by one of his best friends, and he loved it. Fuck, the two of you lasted four days together here without ruining your friendship, but now what? Where could you go from here? Was this the end of a friendship, or the beginning of something even better? Would you even remember this in the morning, or would it be something that Mat had to carry for the rest of your friendship? Had he made it awkward now? Would your family find out? Had he just ruined the vacation?

Mat couldn't stop the thoughts from racing through his mind on the walk back to the house, but there was one constant question that just wouldn't leave:

Why the fuck couldn’t you have just kissed him when you were sober?

#mat barzal #op #nhl fic #fic #smile like sunshine #mathew barzal #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal imagine

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andorwhore · 3 years

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Saudade - IV of VII

Chapter IV of VII: Care

summary: A year in the life of a rebel with a cause and a rebel in search of one… chapter four: Lose has a tendency to bring people close, and that can be daunting.

author’s note: Who hasn’t updated since October? I guess it’s me, the resident asshole author. I took a very long and unexpected break from writing due to school and work, and I still haven’t written any new content unfortunately. But I thought it would be a shame to let this complete chapter sit around unpublished. So, I’m hoping that this will motivate me to finish up this story (and potentially add that new chapter I’ve been considering). And if I never get around to wrapping this fic up, at the very least this is the perfect chapter to leave it on.

pairing: Cassian Andor x OC word count: 11,465 (longest one yet babey) rating: T, eventual R warnings: is ~*~intimacy~*~ something that requires a warning lol

chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four

[ff.net] [ao3]

taglist: @justanotherblonde23

The Festival of Stars was a celebration Jai was quite familiar with, or at least as familiar as the average person could be. She didn't know the exact origin of the festival week, though she knew it had something to do with interstellar space travel; what she did know with certainty is that every year, the Ring of Kafrene became overloaded with travelers during the holiday, en route to destinations all across the galaxy. On Kafrene, the people took to celebrating it as well, though as Jai got older she realized it was a means of ripping off all the gullible tourists that made pit stops on the colony. Residents of Kafrene were smart to jump on the opportunity, Jai's friends and family included, and ironically enough, because of the locals' investment in playing travelers for fools, the festival in its own way became a part of what little culture Kafrene had.

Jai hadn't expected to hear anything about the festival on Yavin 4. Hell, she all but forgot about the holiday week, the last six months of her life having been all consumed by Alliance business. She first heard someone mention the Festival of Stars just as they were heading back to the base after a mission to a planet called Naator (this being yet another world Jai had no prior knowledge of). She was brought along on the mission as tech support, though Jai was fairly certain she wouldn't be needed.

She had ended up spending a whole day on Naator just sitting in the ship and waiting for her team to return. The most thrilling thing that happened to Jai was when some local animal spooked her as she did an engine check in the morning, and she nearly fried the creature with her blaster. Her team returned successful, and they were off of the planet just as quickly as they had arrived.

As they started on their few hours journey to return back to Yavin 4, one of the team members reminded everyone that the holiday was going on that week, and that they should make a pit stop to pick up a few things to celebrate. Jai listened with intrigue as the group excitedly discussed the festivity, curious to hear about it from the perspective of those that didn't grow up trying to find ways to profit off of the holiday.

Apparently, quite a number of the rebels celebrated it every year, along with the other two Fete Weeks. Jai, of course, didn't know about these other weeks - they had their own dumb holidays back on the Ring of Kafrene, and the Festival of Stars was the only one she knew of that was celebrated in all corners of the galaxy. Rebels, no matter what planet they came from, all seemed to love the holiday, saw it as an opportunity to relax and forget their responsibilities for a while.

Although the festival was traditionally celebrated over the course of five days, the Rebellion only had two evenings unofficially dedicated to it - after all, it wouldn't be very practical if they spent an entire week partying. The "unofficial" part, someone explained to Jai, was because the council of superiors didn't recognize it as any kind of reprieve from work - they were happy to allow their rebels to celebrate, and even happy to take part in the festivities if time allowed, but the Festival of Stars wasn't something marked on everyone's calendars as time off. In the Rebellion, there was no such thing as time off. If someone was lucky enough to have one of the two evenings free, then they were welcome to join in the party.

Jai's team were all planning to attend once they got back to Yavin 4, encouraging the slicer to join them - and Jai was never one to turn down a party.

The Naator mission team ended up going a little crazy during their pit stop on one of the planets in the nearest trading belt - apparently, Jai observed, the Festival of Stars was more like the Festival of Drinking among the rebels. They grabbed everything from spicebrew to malts to drinks that Jai had never even heard of; and, of course, she made sure they grabbed as much Merenzane Gold as they could manage. Jai could only wonder just how much alcohol there would be at base once the other rebels returned from their missions as well, all surely having the same idea as her team.

By the time they returned to Yavin 4, evening was slowly closing in, and the hangar seemed far more crowded than usual - it would seem the partying was far too big for the confines of the mess hall, as the rebels took to setting up out here instead. The Naator team was already buzzing with impatience as the gunship settled on the tarmac, everyone waiting to jump out and join the party that had just begun over on the west side of the hangar. Everyone grabbed up the boxes of alcohol scattered across the ship - Jai made sure she grabbed at least one of the crates of Merenzane.

As she stepped off of the ship, Jai felt a warmth swelling in her chest, hearing her teammates chattering excitedly and the carefree voices of their fellow rebels drifting towards them from the west side. Back home, Jai and her brothers loved the Festival of Stars, and they almost always managed to convince Tillian and Vinis to let them run off amongst the crowds each evening rather than have them work at Vinis' shop in the market (or have them take advantage of the tourists' guards being down). When the three of them were out together, watching the performances other locals put on, hearing the excited chatter of people on the streets, climbing up on rooftops to watch the crowd with interest and awe, they were unstoppable. They always ended those evenings on the roof of their home, staying up into the wee hours of the mornings to watch all of the excitement - up there, they felt as if they were on top of the entire world.

Those were simpler times, before Tillian passed, before Jai's brother ran off with some unscrupulous stranger, when they were still young and hopeful and without a care in the world. Jai missed those days and missed what her family used to be. The holiday didn't feel the same after they lost Tillian, and by the time her brother left, the festival was practically nonexistent to her - they could never go back to the dream of their childhood, and Jai had come to accept that. But as she walked through the hangar with her excited teammates, each with a bit of a skip in their steps, Jai felt as if this could start a new festival tradition for her, one that, though not the same as that of her past, would be just as good. This was the next chapter of her life, and with the next chapter came new things to love and be excited about.

Another half a dozen or so ships had pulled into the hangar after the Naator team, all landing on the opposite end of the hangar from where the enlivened rebels were setting up drinks and tables. Jai was about halfway to her destination when she looked back towards the new ships, but they were too far off for her to immediately identify any of them. Beside her, the team leader, Kinall, asked Jai if she felt steady enough to take another box of alcohol on top of the one she already had - Kinall had to head up to Command to report to her superior about the mission. Jai gave a histrionic sigh, but agreed to take the second crate, readjusting her grip on the box of Merenzane Gold before Kinall set the second box atop it. The captain spun around to head towards the turbolift, Jai watching her walk off while she ensured her grip was steady before continuing towards the party.

"I think you have a drinking problem." a voice teased noncommittally from somewhere behind Jai, causing a smile to pull across her face as she rolled her eyes. Turning around carefully so as not to drop anything, she spotted Cassian and K-2SO approaching her, looking as if they, too, had just returned from a mission. Cassian had a teasing smirk on his lips, and yet the expression didn't even remotely reach his eyes; and, though Kay was expressionless, he still somehow seemed eternally judgmental.

"My only drinking problem is that I haven't had enough yet to deal with you." Jai retorted, looking past Cassian at all the other rebels that had come back from their various missions, wondering briefly if Cassian had gone with a team or if his job had been solo.

Nearly everyone returned with something in hand, most of which Jai was sure had to be booze, though unsurprisingly, Cassian was empty handed.

For another moment, Jai watched the other rebels as most of them walked in her direction, though she noted the few that quickly made their way for the turbolift instead, heads down and expressions distraught. Must have been a sour mission that dampened their mood.

Jai looked between Cassian and the two crates she carried as they began to feel even heavier, "Help a girl out, would you?"

Cassian glanced with disinterest at the boxes in her arms, though Jai could now recognize the waggish glint on his face that, once again, didn't quite seem to reach his eyes, "You look like you've got a handle on it."

She gave him a small glare before turning her eyes up towards K-2SO, but before Jai could say anything, the droid spoke, "Don't assume I'll help you with it."

Jai scoffed, "Such gentlemen…"

She and Cassian met eyes again as he gave a tired, agreeing grin, stepping up to take the top box from her, Jai's arms immediately feeling relieved at the lightened load. As she turned back around for them to head toward the tables, she eyed Cassian curiously, noticing that his posture seemed exhausted and his face worn.

"What, didn't bring anything for the party?" The man looked back at her, his expression a little less amused than before. His lips seemed to press tightly together for a slight second. There was something on his mind, that much Jai could discern, but she was certain that Cassian would avoid mentioning it.

"I have no interest in parties."

Jai shouldn't have been at all surprised by the answer. Of course Cassian wasn't the party going type - he preferred his brooding to having a good time. Ever since their night of drinking two months back, Jai hadn't been able to get him to do so since. Sure, Cassian had a drink here or there that she knew of, but the two haven't since sat down and dedicated a couple of hours to simply drinking and chatting as freely and carelessly as they had back then. That evening caused a shift in their relationship, even if by this point they couldn't exactly remember all of that night.

They were friends now, even if Cassian refused to ever say so out loud. That didn't mean they saw each other everyday nor did they have the chances to make great efforts to spend time together, however, they could both feel it in the way they talked, the way they seemed to feel more at ease with one another, the way they simply seemed to fit together.

Jai had somehow convinced Cassian to spend meals with her and her other friends in the mess hall on a few rare occasions, and when she wasn't busy with something Jai wandered her way to Cassian's ship or up to the control room to take some time to chat with him if she knew he was around base. Neither had been back to the other's dorm, however - that evening months ago was a strange exception, and without saying so they both had a feeling that the next time that happened, it'd be very different from that time before.

Jai liked Cassian - most of the time, she was pretty sure she knew it was just as a friend, but every now and again she caught herself looking at him a certain way, looking at him with a warmth in her chest that she didn't feel often enough to be able to surely identify it. It didn't linger all too often, but when it did it wasn't easy to ignore; Jai could tell herself it was the kind of warmth one felt for a friend, but then she'd catch herself admiring him too closely or getting lost somewhere in her head if someone mentioned his name, and she knew there was no way this warmth was simply one of friendship.

It wasn't a crush - that word certainly felt too juvenile to describe whatever this was. Jai simply saw it as the part of her that got caught up in the "what ifs" - what if we met in a different way in a different place, what if we weren't in this rebellion, what if he wasn't so guarded and distant? The "what ifs" were casual and non committal - they weren't real wants or desires, Jai told herself. They were simple considerations that passed through her mind as if they were foolish impulses, like those pesky voices that asked "what if you just shocked yourself with one of your tools to see what would happen" or "what if you went and jumped out of a ship without taking any precautions?"

And this was a ship that Jai had no intention of jumping out of - it was better if it all just stayed up in her head. She didn't dare let herself wonder if Cassian ever had those random intrusive thoughts - he struck her as the kind of guy who simply didn't have the time for intrusive thoughts. Even when he wasn't busy, his mind was at work, and there was no room for useless thinking as far as she could tell.

So, the fact that Cassian didn't do parties was something Jai could have guessed about him - just like useless thoughts, Cassian didn't seem to have time for useless events either. Though, it was still disappointing to hear from him, because Jai saw Cassian as someone that was in desperate need of some lighthearted fun every now and again.

Jai hummed as they set the crates atop a table full of alcohol of all varieties, other rebels already swarming to grab some for themselves, "That's a shame, I really could use someone to help me drink all this Merenzane."

As she grinned at Cassian, Jai snagged a bottle of her favorite drink before they could all disappear. Cassian glanced at the bottle before his eyes flicked back up to meet Jai's for a moment with a raised brow; he looked behind himself at Kay as if he could get Cassian out of this party, but the damned droid had already retreated with disinterest.

"You'll have to find another drinking partner, Jai." He replied plainly… no, it wasn't plain, he sounded exhausted; he knew, though, that the woman almost surely wasn't going to accept his answer. Jai was persistent when she wanted to be, and something about Cassian always seemed to make her more tenacious than she usually was. Cassian discovered that, apparently, after making some passing comment to someone about Jai's persistence, she was never so stubborn with others, as his comment surprised the rebel he was talking to. She must have reserved all of that tiresome stubbornness for him and him alone. Upon discovering that, Cassian repeatedly had to stop himself from overthinking what that meant.

Cassian could tell from the look in Jai's eyes that she was about to attempt to persuade him to stay for a little while, and he could also see that she was hoping that she'd succeed. Giving her his own resolute look, Cassian turned his shoulder and started walking out of the crowd of other rebels.

"You know you can relax every now and again." Jai's voice chimed up from right alongside him; she sounded caring, as if she wasn't simply asking for his company, but asking for him to be at ease for once, "Maybe a party would be good for you."

"I think not." He glanced down at her. His tone nor his expression were either harsh or dismissive, but that weariness Jai spotted earlier seemed almost more present in his eyes, "I have to go debrief with Draven."

Jai couldn't argue with that particular point, knowing it to be true, though she was sure a debriefing couldn't take up much of his time. She sighed a little through her nose as she looked down at the Merenzane she was carrying. Something seemed to be bothering Cassian, or maybe this last mission was just so draining that he couldn't commit himself to socializing.

"Come back down for one drink?" She tried one final time, seeing the consideration on Cassian's face when she looked back toward him.

A part of Cassian wanted to say yes. Despite how awful he felt, and despite his complete lack of interest in the Festival of Stars, a part of him wanted to agree to a drink with some good company. He began to consider that maybe a drink is exactly what his drained heart needed right now, what his weathered mind could use. Though he wasn't keen on joining a pointless party, Cassian felt some kind of pull towards spending time with Jai, especially given the way she looked at him with such hopefulness. Whether that be because he was fond of her or because he knew he had something important to say to her, he wasn't sure.

After all these months, Jai had become a friend, though her tactics were relatively new ones to him - any time she was told "Cassian doesn't do this" or "Cassian doesn't like that," she blatantly did whatever those things were to challenge them, to test them and see if they were true or if simply no one else dared to try to get any closer to him.

Cassian would have expected himself to become annoyed by Jai's persistence, but despite himself he found that he respected it, found that he even came to genuinely like it - because he kept so many people at arm's length, he was refreshed by Jai's resolve to get to know him, to be his friend and to see him open up. Sure, Jai's disregard for his space could occasionally be a pain in his ass, but more often than not it turned out to be exactly what Cassian needed in a companion, in a friend, in… well, he didn't want to consider what she could be beyond a friend.

Jai raised one brow as a grin spread across her lips - Cassian's silent consideration was a promising reaction, she had come to learn. The silence meant he was interested in her offer, at least to some degree, he just simply didn't want to admit so. As he recognized the look on Jai's face, Cassian sighed with an indignant roll of his eyes.

He lifted his index finger between them for emphasis, "One drink."

Jai's smile grew wider as she motioned with her head towards the turbolift, hoping her smile would help lift some of that obvious stress off of his shoulders, "Go take care of your debriefing, captain."

The trace of a sad smile pulled at Cassian's face as he turned away from the woman to make his retreat. Jai watched him go with a content expression, eyeing her friend closely until finally the doors of the lift closed, only catching at the very last second that there appeared to be some kind of a sadness in his eyes.

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Jai had a feeling Cassian was going to flake on her.

Captain Kinall from Jai's mission already returned to the hangar, and the woman had gone up to command only a few minutes before Cassian. She'd been back long enough to finish one drink, and Jai found herself wondering if Cassian's debriefing had run over, or if he changed his mind and went back to his dorm without telling her.

She shouldn't be upset at him. It felt childish, this anxiety that bubbled in Jai's chest as she considered why Cassian didn't show. If he didn't want to join her for a drink, then so be it - she shouldn't let herself get upset over that, it was far too out of character.

But a small, nagging part of Jai was, at the very least, disappointed - despite how uneventful their conversations could be sometimes, she nonetheless was looking forward to getting some time with Cassian tonight. She always looked forward to even the briefest of minutes she got to see him.

Jai sat at one of the tables dragged out for the party, Abe and Miona across from her, and beside her another doctor named Pek. For what felt like the hundredth time, Miona was encouraging Abe to talk to another rebel that he fancied, and Pek was telling Miona and Jai to stop pestering him about it.

Of all the twi'leks Jai had met through the years, Abe was by far the most peculiar - the twi'leks back on Kafrene always seemed bold, fearless, and without any hesitation, but Abe was constantly getting caught up in his own head, always questioning and calculating everything before coming to any decision. It's what Jai found charming about him; the fact that he shared that quality with her younger brother is what drew her to Abe in the first place.

"Jai," Miona's voice stressed, drawing her friend from her daze - stupidly, Jai had been staring at the turbolift and once more got caught up wondering where Cassian was. Jai quickly collected herself, looking around the table, "Tell Abe he just needs to go talk to Chiri."

Jai could see Pek and Abe both roll their eyes, and the slicer gave a half-assed grin, "Abe, tonight is kind of the perfect night to go for it, what could go wrong?"

"I'm not going to make an idiot of myself trying to flirt with anyone." Abe argued nervously, looking tired to be having this conversation yet again.

Jai shrugged noncommittally, lifting her glass to her lips, "Then stop ogling her every time you see her - she might start to notice you."

Miona laughed good-naturedly, setting her hand on Abe's forearm as reassurance.

"Leave him alone, you guys." Pek rolled her eyes at them, giving Jai a little jab with her elbow, "We've had this conversation a thousand times already."

Jai gave her friend a nudge back, the corner of her mouth pulled up slightly, "Fine, fine, I promise no more talking about Chiri."

"You don't make promises." Miona scoffed around the rim of her glass.

Jai paused before nodding in agreement, raising her glass, "You got me there."

Jai's eyes drifted back toward the turbolift, and she mentally reprimanded herself for it - she shouldn't let Cassian trouble her. It was a stupid thing to keep focusing on; she was here with her friends, so why let one man's disinterested agreement to make an appearance linger in her thoughts?

A minute later, the turbolift doors opened, and dumbly Jai perked up a little, only to be immediately let down when she saw it wasn't Cassian. She hoped the others didn't notice her.

She sighed a little through her nose, knocking back the rest of the Merenzane in her glass in one swift swig before she started chewing on the inside of her lip, her brows pulled into a slight glare as she started down at her empty glass.

This was stupid. Why did she get herself excited for Cassian in the first place? They were friends, but they weren't that close. And yet, Jai felt a distinct fondness, a feeling of closeness despite knowing they weren't that. It was that draw she felt to him, the one stirred up when she started thinking "what if" again - it was the things in her head overriding what was going on in reality. She just needed to relax and have another drink, and the rebel captain would be forgotten for the remainder of the evening.

And yet… Jai felt some distinct pull to the man this evening, something she couldn't shake. It had to have been that look in his eyes earlier - Cassian looked exhausted despite putting up at least a decent front of impassivity, he looked downcast despite trying to make jokes to keep Jai off his scent. Maybe she should have read his body language better - he was probably so drained from whatever his latest job was, both emotionally and physically, that there was no way he could try to take part in socializing tonight.

'I don't think he's okay.' The thought suddenly struck Jai, though she tried to dismiss it as being her own anxiety just creating extra worry. Cassian was probably as fine as one could be after a rough mission, he just didn't care about this party. But then again, he seemed more off than usual earlier, like he was not entirely there despite trying to pretend he was.

Jai came back to reality again, looking around the table at her friends, wondering if they had noticed just how long she'd been silent. Miona seemed to give her a look of at least recognition that she had zoned out, but it wasn't a knowing expression as if she could figure out what was on Jai's mind. Jai sighed a little, glancing at her glass again before pushing up from the table without entirely thinking about it.

"I need another drink." The group's eyes drew toward her, and Abe lifted his own glass and shook it a little.

"Grab another for me, too?"

Jai nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure she'd be back to the table any time soon; but she didn't want them being suspicious about her disappearance, at least not from the get-go. As her friends returned to their discussion, Jai glanced back towards the turbolift as she started walking away - she knew she had herself convinced that something wasn't right, and now there was no shaking that though. Her legs carried her toward one of the tables full of drinks, but as she glanced down at it, she had no interest in refilling her glass.

Jai sighed - it looked like she was going to search for the rebel captain after all.

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Cassian wasn't sure when he had zoned out or how long he had been sitting still as a statue on the edge of his bed, but a knock at his door drew him out of his daze. As he blinked rapidly a few times, the knocking sounded again - how long had someone been at his door? Cassian's eyes drifted toward it, staring weakly - he was too exhausted to deal with anyone right now, and there wasn't anything that could be that important right now.

"Cassian." A voice sounded from the other side, causing his brows to perk and his back to straighten in recognition - Jai. She came looking for him, much to his own surprise.

When he agreed to return to the hangar, he was still on the fence about whether or not he'd even show, about whether or not he wanted to tell Jai what was on his mind. When he returned to his room to clean up after his meeting with Draven, Cassian knew he didn't have the emotional energy to put up with a crowd, even if it were just for a few minutes. He figured Jai would be content with her friends and forget all about asking him to show up, but evidently his assumption was false.

Cassian pushed his elbows off of his bare knees, staring at the door again as he sighed, deciding whether or not he even wanted to get up. Jai's knocking had stopped - did she give up? Despite himself, Cassian felt a certain disappointment, imagining Jai sighing on the opposite side of his door and walking away in defeat - maybe he wanted to talk to her, maybe he wanted some company. No, he wasn't the type that ever wanted someone around, especially not when he felt like shit as he was feeling tonight. Yet, something in him wanted to let Jai in.

Cassian rose to his feet while pushing his damp hair off of his forehead, hurrying to his small closet to dig out a pair of sweatpants, which he stumbled his legs into as he made for the door. As one hand finished pulling them up, the other snatched his discarded jacket from where he'd dropped it onto the floor.

He stuck his head out the door, seeing that Jai had, in fact, begun to retreat down the hall. For a moment, he simply stared at the back of her head, wondering what exactly he wanted - should he let her go, or should he call out to her? Why did he even go to his door to begin with? And why did he feel this craving for company somewhere in his chest, a craving for Jai's company?

"Jai?" His voice was quieter than he expected, and Cassian wondered if the slicer even heard him. But she paused and turned back, a small grin on her face as her eyes fell on the man that was halfway out in the hall. Upon spotting his damn hair and semi-bare chest, Jai looked Cassian up and down while he finished jerking the jacket over his shoulders; she quirked a brow slightly before looking back at his face while approaching.

"I thought you were gonna stand me up." She teased, making a joke out of the very real disappointment that she had been feeling earlier. As she paused in front of him, though, Jai noticed the conflict in Cassian's expression that had been there all night.

"… I thought about it." He admitted while looking into his room, silently leading Jai back inside. Just like before, she looked around the space, noticing this time though that there was a trail of discarded clothes leading towards the refresher. Her eyes turned back up toward Cassian, who stood between his bed and his closet, his head turned in consideration, as if deciding whether to face her or turn away, whether to remain on his feet or sit down. Despite the man giving no real clues, Jai knew there was something off about Cassian tonight, she just couldn't put her finger on why that was.

The two were quiet for a nearly uncomfortable length of time, Cassian's back still turned to her as they both stood dumbly in the middle of the room. So, Jai thought, she had been right to come looking for him, though she felt bad for her immature worry over why he didn't show.

"So, I take it you don't want that drink tonight." Jai finally said in a somewhat serious tone, though the answer was already obvious. She moved to take a seat on the couch, eyes still watching Cassian attentively as he finally turned to face her. He didn't have to say anything, Jai saw in his expression the confirmation she needed - it wasn't a good night. He was no longer putting up the front he had on down in the hangar as the two stared at each other for another long beat, Cassian hoping that he simply looked tired rather than distraught. But the observant shine in Jai's eyes made it clear to Cassian that he had been figured out.

Jai bit the inside of her cheek, wondering what she should say next - she never was one for serious conversations, especially when she knew the topic was something unideal. She especially wasn't prepared to have one with Cassian, and she wondered why the hell the man let her into his room - he wasn't the type who'd want to share an upsetting conversation with just anyone. Should she just go and leave him be?

"What happened?" Jai heard herself ask without thinking, her brow furrowed in worry. Another long silence stretched out between them; Cassian stared into Jai's eyes for a moment, but eventually looked down at his bare feet, hands resting on his hips as he let out a small sigh.

"It's nothing." He said, his tone nearly convincing - it would have convinced someone else to drop the subject, but Jai could see that this wasn't nothing, and she was never one to immediately give up, especially not with Cassian. Jai nodded while looking away, though she didn't accept his answer. Her eyes fell on the trail of clothes again as she considered.

"Look, I'm shit at this, but… do you need to talk about it?" She turned her gaze back toward Cassian, who was motionless as his tired eyes continued to look at her with reservation. Cassian knew he needed to tell her. Sure, Jai would have heard about this eventually, he already knew the information would make its rounds tomorrow - she should just wait till then. But something about it still nagged at him, something that felt as if it were important for him to discuss it with her now before it was too late. He had to be the one to tell her. it wouldn't be right if she heard it from anyone else, but he didn't know how he'd do it.

Finally, he shook his head slowly, his jaw tight as practiced authority briefly lit his eyes, though it only lingered for a moment. Jai in return gave a disheartened nod, pushing herself back up to her feet as her eyes continued to search Cassian's doleful face, her own worry evident in her expression.

As she took one defeated step towards the door, though, Cassian found himself taking a step forward as well, causing Jai to pause and look back at him. For a moment, Cassian sucked in his lips as he studied the woman's expression. There was yet again another long silence between them as they stared into each other's eyes unblinking.

Finally, Cassian took a deep breath, his voice quiet, "It's Gar."

Immediately, Jai's eyes widened with worry, nearly gasping as she inhaled through her nose - once she started to realize how dire Cassian's mood was, she feared that this was something she wouldn't want to hear, and the dread of that suddenly weighed heavily in her stomach.

If Gar was… Jai didn't even want to think the word. If he was, then that would be the first Rebellion casualty that would leave a mark on her heart. Jai knew others had passed in her six months as a rebel technician, but none of them she knew - though Jai tried to be at the very least friendly with each person that crossed her path, she knew only a sliver of the people on Yavin 4.

She wasn't like Cassian - she didn't feel connected to every single person here, she didn't feel weighed down every time another rebel didn't return home, she didn't let those losses linger. So many had been lost and Jai simply accepted it while moving on, knowing it came with the territory and finding it hard to feel anything when she didn't even know the person.

But Gar? A man who had been a boss and a mentor to her, who had been nearly a brotherly figure as of recent? She almost didn't want to hear what Cassian would say next.

Jai didn't even feel her feet move beneath her as she closed the distance between her and Cassian, pausing only a few inches in front of him as her wide eyes stared up into his. Those dark eyes were practically begging him to not utter what she feared, begging him to say he was just pulling her leg. But Cassian's downcast expression didn't change as he stared back at her.

"We got separated," Cassian started, his voice a dismal monotone, "The Empire got to him and Halu before we could."

Jai's next breath came out shaky, her wide eyes dropping to stare at Cassian's chest, afraid to look into his eyes for fear of losing her composure. Her mouth hung open slightly as she tried to process the information, but she could feel herself trembling as the grief started to creep in. Her hands began to wring at her sides, eyes slowly beginning to water. But tears didn't fall as she tried to blink them away - no, even in her worst moments, Jai had always been good about holding them back, about reeling herself in before she became a complete mess. The last time she cried in front of anyone was the day Tillian died. And just like what happened that day, what happened to Gar was completely out of Jai's control, and that silent mantra is what kept her even slightly stable as she stood here now, even if she knew that stability was only temporary.

Jai found herself warily looking up into Cassian's face again, a part of her desperate to reach out to him, but she continued to stand there stiffly, feeling her body ache suddenly as if she'd just run a marathon, exhausted and ready to collapse.

Cassian, though still obviously feeling that deep disappointment, had had at least some time to accept what happened - the ship ride back to Yavin 4 gave him and his team some time to mourn. As a captain, he had to be the grounding strength for everyone else whenever missions went awry, and having to do that through the years helped him develop his own means of coping with distress. But staring down at Jai as she tried to process the information, dealing with the emotions of a loss one-on-one rather than with a team, threatened to turn his exhaustion back into grief.

Silently, Cassian reached out to set a light hand on Jai's wrist, his pinky barely resting in her palm, but his touch caused her to start in surprise and jerk back from him. Her eyes widened a little as she met his stare, taking in another deep, shuttered breath as she tried to calm herself, holding her arm in her other hand as if Cassian's delicate touch had burned her. Slowly, she turned away and dropped down to sit on Cassian's bed as if she couldn't hold herself up any longer, her shoulders sagging and her head hanging lowly to hide her face from Cassian.

Jai never liked to be touched when she was emotional, ever since she was a kid she shied from it - if someone ever tried to offer her comfort, it often opened up the floodgates, and the last thing she wanted was to be blubbering in anyone's arms. Before she could even think about letting someone comfort her or talk to her about what she was feeling, Jai first had to deal with the pain herself, and if that meant running from the comfort of others, then so be it. And despite that part of her that wanted to reach out, that wanted to cling to the person nearest to her, Jai couldn't bring herself to do it - being so raw and vulnerable in front of anyone else terrified her.

Cassian stared at Jai knowingly, studying her pained expression as he felt his own fatigue from the day rising up again. He hesitated to move, even if it was to walk to his couch or to the seat in his kitchen - he didn't want to startle Jai again. So, once more, he stood stock-still, watching and waiting patiently.

A few long minutes passed in thick silence before Jai suddenly stood and darted into Cassian's refresher with barely any time for him to process that she had jumped up. His concerned eyes lingered on the closed door briefly before he finally started moving again, his knees feeling stiff as he walked to his kitchenette for a glass of water. He sighed as he chugged it down, having not realized how dry his mouth was beginning to feel.

He couldn't have anticipated that he'd feel so awful having to tell Jai what happened - Cassian had dealt with loss through the years, and had dealt with telling others about loss more times than he could count. Though it never necessarily got any easier, Cassian had grown accustomed to being the bearer of bad news, to seeing his fellow rebels mourn. And yet, something about this last time hurt more than it should have, something in Jai's eyes stung unexpectedly when she pulled away from him.

Jai had done something to him, though Cassian couldn't quite say what that was. Some time between their last night alone together and this one, Cassian started to feel something unfamiliar for the woman, and that something made it so much harder to see her broken and despairing, retreating from his touch and hiding on the opposite side of the door from him. Cassian was surprised to find that he wished he could be right there by Jai's side and consoling her as she mourned.

Despite himself, Cassian hated that he had to tell Jai, though he also couldn't have allowed anyone else to tell her. It had to be him, that much he knew, but that only made it somehow hurt more when he watched her face crumble.

Cassian refilled his glass and shuffled back towards his bed, taking a long sip of water once he sat down. His eyes drifted back towards the refresher door as he set the cup aside, feeling a pull to rise back to his feet and check on Jai. But he knew better than to try - he had to leave her be. For all he cared, Jai could keep herself locked up in his refresher all damn night, and he still wouldn't disturb her.

Once Cassian had finished his second glass of water, he looked down at the jacket he had quickly thrown on when Jai knocked at his door, slowly pulling it off of himself and dropping it in the pile of dirty clothes he stripped off earlier, wanting to simply lie back, let out a deep sigh, and close his eyes for a while. But as his gaze lingered on the pile that sat just before the refresher door, he tiredly pushed himself to his feet, knowing he shouldn't leave it there for Jai to accidentally trip over on her way out. He quickly hid all his dirty clothes away and retrieved a fresh tank top, hearing the door open behind him just as he had pulled it over his head.

Cassian turned to look at Jai as he pulled the shirt down his torso, noticing immediately that she wasn't looking at his face but rather at his chest, even if for a split second. Though there were bags under her tired eyes, Jai looked a little more refreshed - he could tell she had been crying and that she tried to clean herself up to hide the evidence of it. Her face and hairline were damp from splashing water onto her skin, and her eyes even had a different quality to them now. Through their tiredness, her eyes looked a little brighter and clearer - maybe she was trying to shove away any pain she was feeling. But her energy, too, had shifted, and Cassian felt a little less rigid than before - he was reminded that this wasn't the first loss Jai had dealt with, and it looked as if she had found a way of coping with the pain life threw at her.

The two stared at one another once more, studying the other's expression thoughtfully. Jai gave Cassian a weak, cagey smile, one that made the sadness in her eyes a touch more obvious - he suspected the look was to reassure herself rather than him. She let out a slight sigh and finally stepped back into the room, slowly approaching Cassian, once more coming to a pause only about a foot in front of him. She looked down while licking her dry lips, her eyes darting back and forth as if she were searching for the words that clearly wanted to leave her mouth.

Her eyes finally met his again through her lashes, "… Thanks for telling me." Her voice was quiet, and Cassian's brows rose a little at the words, "I wouldn't want to hear it from anyone else."

Cassian felt an unexpected stutter in his chest before he spoke slowly, his tone as quiet as hers, "I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to tell you."

Jai gave a slight nod in understanding as she looked down again, her eyes falling onto one of Cassian's hands as his thumb slid across the pads of his fingers edgily. She reached out and grabbed his hand firmly, drawing Cassian's surprised eyes down to their point of contact as well. Neither of them moved for a few long moments until finally Cassian gave Jai's fingers a reassuring squeeze. A faint sad smile ghosted across her lips again as she looked back up at his face, studying his features fondly, and despite how emotional they both were, Cassian nonetheless felt a warmth stir in his chest thanks to the look Jai was giving him.

"Draven wants me to tell your department tomorrow." Cassian started as his eyes returned to linger on their joined hands, "Chase is going to take over as supervisor."

Jai nodded, pushing down the lump that dared to rise in her throat again, "Chase'll be great, Gar trained her well."

Cassian turned his warm eyes back up to Jai's face, surveying her expression carefully as he thought, "Do you want to take tomorrow off?"

"No," she gave him a quick, reassuring smile and a shake of her head, and Cassian wasn't sure if he was imagining it or if Jai did move a touch closer, "I'll be better if I keep busy. I don't need you treating me any different than the rest of the hangar techs."

Her words weren't accusatory but thankful and appreciative that Cassian even asked her the question - if Jai needed evidence that Cassian had any interest in her, that was it. Cassian showing that kind of care to her eliminated any doubt Jai had regarding their friendship.

Jai squeezed Cassian's hand before slowly pulling away, her fingers gliding across his almost as if she didn't want to let go. Cassian's fingers clenched slightly, finding that he suddenly missed her touch. Jai took a single step back, sighing as she looked around the room while in thought.

"I should go." Her tone nearly contradicted her words, as if she disdained to even say them. But she was drained from the news about Gar, and she was certain that Cassian was as well - they both could use some good rest. She took another couple of steps before turning on her heel, and once more Cassian found himself taking a step forward.

"You could stay." Jai's eyes turned back to meet his, a questioning look in them. Cassian's expression was softer than she'd ever seen it, "Maybe we could both use the company."

A contented smile spread across Jai's lips, a warmth rising in her chest that helped to ease some of the pain that had been weighing on her just minutes prior.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Cassian awoke to the sound of blankets ruffling and Jai breathing unevenly. He wasn’t sure what time it was or what time the two had finally fallen asleep, but without checking the clock he was almost certain it was very early morning. Cassian had been a light sleeper almost his entire life, so although Jai’s movements probably would not have disturbed most people, she was just loud enough for his ears to prick up and notice.

Though the room was nearly pitch black, when he turned his head Cassian could tell Jai was still on the couch where he had left her, having not heard her rise from it. He insisted, once he started to see how tired Jai was, that she take his bed, but she just as adamantly argued that his cramped little couch would be fine, seeing as she was shorter so it would be less uncomfortable for her. Though Cassian tried to argue, he knew Jai wouldn’t budge, so at the very least he gave her his good blanket, hoping it would be some comfort to her.

For a minute, he simply lied still listening -- after Jai’s initial movement, which must have been her sitting up and rearranging, she hardly made a sound. If it weren’t for her uneven breathing, Cassian would have suspected that she had fallen back asleep; but those uneven breaths were shaky, as if the loss of Gar was coming right back up and threatening to wear so deeply at her mind that she couldn’t sleep again.

Cassian debated whether or not to say something, whether or not he should sit up and ask if she wanted to talk, wanted some kind of comfort. Maybe she had a nightmare that roused her, and maybe she’d simply want to be left alone; but maybe this time she’d want to talk to him.

As he heard Jai shift around again, as if fighting to find a comfortable position but to no avail, Cassian finally spoke up, his voice thick with sleep, “Jai.”

He heard the slightest of surprised noises escape her, and if he were looking Cassian was sure the startled look on Jai’s face might be mildly comical.

“I’m sorry,” Jai whispered, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Cassian propped himself onto his elbows to look in her direction, though because of the darkness he still could only just make out Jai’s silhouette, “I’m a light sleeper. You alright?”

“Fine…” Her tone wasn’t entirely convincing, but at least she didn’t sound as sad as Cassian feared she would -- she just sounded tired, “Just woke up suddenly. Must’ve been something in my dream, I guess.”

Cassian could see the way Jai slumped down a little, again making a feeble attempt at getting comfortable, “Or maybe your body’s protesting against the couch.”

Jai let out a huffed laugh, rolling her eyes, “My back does suddenly feel like it’s aged a couple of decades.”

Cassian sat upright, and he could feel Jai’s eyes trying to make out his silhouette in the darkness as well. As he grinned at Jai’s response, he stared in her general direction for a couple of moments, “Let’s trade.”

“You think your back will manage any better on this thing?” Her voice sounded humored by the suggestion, “Stay put, Andor.”

Cassian nearly laughed as he started to push himself out of the bed, retrieving his glass from the bedside table while shuffling towards the kitchen, which supplied the one small bit of light into the room from an emergency light that sat on the wall above the bar between the kitchen and the rest of the living space.

“I don’t think I’ll be falling asleep again too soon.” He said while refilling his cup. Turning back to the room, he could make Jai out a little better now that he was closer, and he held the glass in her direction, “Thirsty?”

Without answering, Jai lifted herself off the couch and padded over towards Cassian, circling the bar to retrieve the glass from his outstretched hand while leaning her hip against the counter. Cassian mirrored her position, though he rested some of his weight on his palm atop the bar as well as he stared into her face. Cassian could now make out her features just a little thanks to the faint light and their proximity to one another -- the outlines of her nose and lips, the slight glint of the light reflecting in her eyes. He looked down at her throat as he heard her swallow back nearly the entire glass of water.

Jai felt Cassian watching her far too closely, and yet she didn’t feel as uncomfortable under his gaze as she normally would have. As she set the cup carefully on the counter, she, too, stared up at him, trying to make out as much of his face as possible in the minimal lighting. Silence lingered between them as they stood there, neither having anything to say.

Though he could see her arm move from where it was crossed with the other, Cassian still jumped just slightly when he felt Jai’s hand slide over his, her thumb faintly rubbing circles on the outside of his wrist. He glanced down at their connected hands before finding the glint of her eyes again.

“Thank you, again, Cass.” Just like the first time, the gentle delivery of the unexpected nickname caused a shiver to work it’s way up Cassian’s spine. He hoped Jai didn’t notice.

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” He answered in a similarly quiet tone, tilting his head down slightly; he couldn’t help but feel guilty about what happened to Gar. The expert technician rarely went into the field anymore, but Cassian allowed him to go on this mission because the man showed interest. If Cassian had just told him no, Gar would still be here. Jai had no reason to thank him a second time, let alone the first time from earlier in the evening.

All of Cassian’s attention briefly focused on where Jai’s thumb still brushed delicately against his skin -- how was it possible that the touch simultaneously calmed him and made his heart beat just a little louder in his ears?

Jai shrugged, attempting to speak jocularly, “You didn’t give me shit about crying in your ‘fresher and you let me stay here -- that’s worth some thanks.”

Cassian couldn’t help the small step forward he took, moving in even closer to Jai than he already was -- something about the dismissiveness of her earlier upset bothered him, “Your feelings are not a joke, Jai.”

The seriousness of his tone took Jai by surprise, causing her to look up at him curiously, though Cassian couldn’t quite make out the expression in the darkness. He could tell her eyes were burning into him, and he stared right back with just as much weight. He found his mind focusing back on her hand atop his -- Jai’s thumb had already stopped moving, but it felt as if her grip tightened just slightly. In that same moment, Cassian became acutely aware of how close he had moved to her, how he felt an almost static energy bouncing between them. Without her saying so, Cassian knew Jai felt it as well.

Jai lightly exhaled through her nose, her next words taking Cassian by surprise, “If someone asked me six months ago if I’d ever care about you, Cassian, I would have laughed in their face.”

Jai could see the faint light bounce off of Cassian’s teeth as he smiled unexpectedly at the remark, causing a grin to pull across her own lips. Cassian considered her for just a moment with fondness, “If someone had asked me, I would have done the same thing.”

The admissions caused them both to laugh smally, but it also felt like another spark of static surged between them. They stared at each other for another brief beat before Jai dropped her gaze to the darkness between them, feeling her heart beating far too heavily against her chest. Little did she know that Cassian’s heart was pounding just as quickly.

Did he understand the full weight of the meaning in her confession? Did she? Jai was surprised by her own admission, by the way her heart drummed in her ears, by this sudden need to lean into the man before her. The pull she felt towards Cassian seemed so much more palpable then it had been before, as if she could no longer keep it at bay; Jai knew she was doomed to succumb to that unfamiliar fluttery sensation in her stomach.

She called on her courage that felt as if it were trying to evade her, her voice coming out quieter and even hesitant as she looked up through her lashes, though thanks to the dark Cassian didn’t notice, “… I probably care about you more than I should.”

A weight felt as if it dropped in Cassian’s stomach, the confession seeming to echo between his ears as his heart drummed off-rhythm against his rib cage. His eyes widened in surprise and he stared intensely and unblinkingly at Jai, feeling his free hand twitch with some unfamiliar need to reach towards her, as if he still had to search for something to clarify what her words meant.

He realized then exactly what it was that had been building up inside of him, what these nerves were that only seemed to pop up when Jai was around. Cassian had had an understanding of what he was beginning to feel towards Jai, but in the past he was able to suppress it and shove it aside, to pretend it was unimportant, that it would pass. With the woman in question standing here mere inches before him, owning up to her own feelings, his weren’t quite as easy to ignore.

Cassian dipped his head, hoping it would draw Jai to look back up towards him as he leaned a little closer in search of her gaze. He understood exactly what Jai had meant, and yet he wanted to ask her, to hear the explanation exactly as she meant it to be understood. He wanted to hear it straight from her lips.

Jai continued to stare up at Cassian through her lashes, her stomach knotting when he moved in closer to her. If either of them moved any further, she would be leaning into him, her forehead pressed to his cheek, losing all traces of distance between their bodies. Despite trying to keep herself together, Jai’s breath came out in a waver that she tried to control, and she knew there was no way Cassian could have missed it.

In a brief moment of confidence, Jai slid her hand from it’s spot atop Cassian’s, fingertips slowly gliding over his forearm and securing a grip on his bicep. In the same second that she gave his upper arm a slight squeeze, as if to assure herself that he was really right there in front of her and that this conversation was really happening, Cassian’s hand steadily reached up and found a secure hold at the nape of her neck, his fingers twisting delicately in her dark locks and pulling her head back. For a beat, they breathed in unison, a shared look of yearning in their eyes as Cassian briefly pressed his forehead to Jai’s, giving them both one last moment to consider what was about to happen.

And then their lips met frantically, noses bumping and teeth nearly clashing together, neither certain who moved first as their need for one another took charge. Cassian’s lips were rough against her own, but the sharp taste of him drew a sigh from Jai’s throat, her free hand moving to grip the front of his t-shirt, pulling herself even closer as if he was her oxygen supply. Cassian’s tongue licked across her lower lip in a frenzied response, the heat of her body seeming to engulf him as she drew him nearer, her other hand jumping up to securely rest against his cheek.

Cassian’s arm wrapped around Jai’s narrow waist desperately, his palm pressing her flush against him while the fingers in her hair tightening their grip, twisting a little. An eager sound rumbled in his chest as he slipped his tongue between her lips, tangling with her own heatedly, feeling Jai grab at him with urgency, the scratch of her nails along his torso stirring a second moan from his throat.

As their kiss grew deeper, each feeling drunk off of the other, Cassian pressed forward until he had Jai’s back pinned against the bar, his hands snaking down her body with groping fingers that needed to feel every inch of her, his lips not straying from hers for even a second. When he found a secure grip on her ass, Cassian swiftly lifted Jai up onto the counter, causing a slight moan to escape her as he pressed himself against the warmth between her legs.

Jai’s fingers threaded messily into Cassian’s hair, nails scratching against his scalp as he finally pulled his mouth from hers, Jai gasping for air as he hardly paused for breath before starting to leave open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, his teeth scraping hungrily against warm skin. He bit down lightly on the side of Jai’s neck, causing her to gasp and arch her back, the press of her breasts against his chest encouraging Cassian to nibble at her skin again before sucking it between his lips to leave a faint bruise. Jai let out another clipped moan as Cassian’s wandering hands squeezed her ass and pressed her forward against him as he gave a firm roll of his hips. His own shuddered groan muffled against Jai’s collarbone, his breath fiery hot on her skin.

Cassian worked his way back up to Jai’s mouth, nipping at her skin before finally crashing onto Jai’s waiting lips again. One of his hands trailed up her side, giving extra care to press firmly against her breast before continuing up to settle against her cheek, desperate to somehow pull her closer than she already was. Cassian pressed forward hungrily as Jai slipped her slick tongue back into his mouth with a smile pulling at her lips, leaning back under him until she finally let her weight fall onto her elbow. Cassian braced himself on his forearm as he continued to urge Jai down onto her back, the two moaning in unison as he gave another slow roll of his hips against her. As Jai lay flat on the counter, Cassian’s hand pulled away from her cheek, the delicate trailing of his fingers causing a shiver to travel up Jai’s spine as his hand found its way to her own. Jai desperately deepened the kiss as they laced their fingers together, slowly moving their joined hands above Jai’s head.

Their hands bumped into something that they didn’t spare a second thought for until it suddenly crashed down onto the floor, causing Jai to jolt up with a gasp, bumping into Cassian’s forehead before he could pull back from her.

“Shit.” He hissed in surprise, the hand that had been laced with Jai’s now pressed to his forehead. He continued to linger over Jai, the both of them trying to collect themselves and catch their breath, the air red hot between them. They met eyes, their breath mingling, and gently Cassian lowered his forehead to rest against Jai’s delicately, his hand finding a new resting place at the base of her neck.

Despite herself, a pure laugh sprang out of Jai, her amused smile wide as she closed her eyes, nearly embarrassed, “We broke your glass.”

A beaming smile crossed Cassian’s lips as well as he laughed, his nose brushing against Jai’s as he answered breathily, his accent thicker, “Doesn’t matter.”

He leaned forward to brush his lips against Jai’s briefly, pulling back far enough to look into her eyes again, his chest still heaving against hers. Slowly, he pushed himself up, his hands finding a resting place atop Jai’s thighs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into the fabric of the sweatpants he let her borrow. For a moment longer, Jai stayed on her back, her hands sliding their way up Cassian’s forearms, fingertips pressing firmly into his skin as an eased smile tugged at her lips.

“Come here.” Cassian’s gentle yet commanding tone caused Jai’s middle to tighten with need, just the timbre of his voice alone causing her to let out a yearning sigh. Her hands secured around Cassian’s biceps again and used him as leverage to pull herself up, bringing her nose within centimeters of his as she sat up.

Cassian sighed contentedly, his breath brushing against Jai’s skin as he thought for a few long moments; he couldn’t find the words for any of his thoughts, so instead he pressed his lips tenderly to hers, one of his hands rising to cup her cheek affectionately. Once more, they pressed their foreheads together, mindlessly grazing their fingers along one another’s skin as they tried to collect themselves.

The longer Jai sat here and considered her current position, the more unexpected yet warming it became -- here she was, wrapped around Cassian Andor and feeling so completely at peace enveloped in his touch. She had considered in the past what this would be like, to be close to him and out of breath, to feel his lips against hers, to feel a heat twisting in her abdomen, but those daydreams were nothing like the reality. She had thought they would always remain daydreams, thoughts that passed her by not to be taken too seriously. Getting close to Cassian like this didn’t seem possible, and yet somehow here she was, high on his touch, drunk on his passionate eyes. Cassian, the man who didn’t like to get too close to anyone, whose best friend was a droid, who six months ago had vowed to distrust her… and he was standing here between her legs, his hold on her possessive and in want of more.

She wouldn’t say lucky was the right word, but Jai certainly felt satisfied as she and Cassian remained wrapped around one another.

Cassian finally took a step back from her, his fingers gliding along the top of Jai’s thighs and making her shiver. Her eyes had to readjust to the lack of lighting in the room, but she was sure she could see Cassian grinning fondly at her response to his touch.

His hands found hers as he took another step back, whispering, “Come on,” as he helped Jai hop down from the counter, the broken glass that had fallen to the floor somewhere completely forgotten -- he didn’t care enough to deal with it right now, he’d come back to it in the morning.

Cassian’s fingers lazily tangled with one of Jai’s hands, his eyes straining to find the glass shards on the floor so that neither of them stepped on something sharp. He carefully led Jai out of the kitchen, pausing in his cramped living space with the bed just a step behind him to look back at Jai with a tired smirk. Despite how close they were earlier, she felt her cheeks heat up, feeling the power of his gaze though she could no longer see it in the near-darkness. Cassian lightly tugged on Jai’s hand until she stepped closer, and she could feel Cassian’s free hand just hovering over her face until finally he set it on the base of her neck.

Cassian’s past fears and concerns about Jai crossed his mind as he held her in a comfortable and intimate silence -- he recalled their evening of drinking, when she first managed to send some kind of electric spark through him, when she first made him question the feelings going on inside of him. He had been so afraid to consider them and acknowledge them, because he knew what they meant -- he wanted to get close to someone, get close to her, despite all of his precautions through the years to avoid ever wanting that.

He realized that night two months ago that Jai would be trouble for him, but a completely different kind of trouble than what he had originally projected when they met. She was persistent with him, familiar with him, always making efforts with him -- no one had ever shown that exact combination of traits to him before. Jai had been throwing him for a loop for months now, and somehow she managed to wiggle her way into his heart, somehow slipping past all the emotional safeguards he built up through the years.

Cassian used to be afraid of this feeling. In many ways he still was. And yet, once his lips were on Jai’s, that fear dissolved away, at least temporarily. He wanted -- needed -- to be close to her, yet something in him continued to fear what would happen if he got too close. It was a habit that held him back, the habit of keeping people at arm’s length. But Jai… as much as it scared him, Jai made him want to break the habit and start a new one.

If anyone asked Cassian prior to this evening if he found himself attracted to Jai Tillian, he would have fervently denied it to the point of suspicion.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Care [kair]

noun

a cause or object of concern; serious attention

provision of what is needed for the well-being or protection of a person

verb

to be concerned; have thought or regard; to have a special preference

to wish; desire; like

#cassian andor #cassian andor x original character #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x reader #diego luna #rogue one #star wars #star wars fic #rogue one fic #rouge one fanfiction #ca #fics #fics*#saudade

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

So I know you don't really write PRU things but how about PRU averting? Like when Newt starts to realize something is wrong he goes to Hermann for help?

this isn’t exactly what you wanted (at all) but the concept for this fic has been making me laugh all week. sometimes a bitch just wants to write a slightly unhinged jealous ex hermann unknowingly seducing aliens out of newt

safe for work except for some makeouts and implied past banging, but hermann tries very hard for it to not be. also ive definitely written similar plots before but who cares

—————

They send a ranger-in-training to break the news to Hermann. He’s not sure what they expected him to do, really, or how a teenager in oversized khakis might have prevented it in the first place. Rage? Cry? Break things? His relationship with Newton Geiszler has been highly publicized at this point, he supposes, down to every last gory detail; their scientific rivalry, their heated laboratory debates, their–er–rather dramatic love affair, which ended on a deeply sour note when Newton packed his bags and left Hermann for better funding and a swanky flat with more windows than walls seven years ago. As far as gossip is concerned, that is.

“Tomorrow?” Hermann says.

The ranger nods and says nothing. She’s awfully young–too young, Hermann thinks. And awfully afraid of him. Right, of course: he’s crotchety, daft old Dr. Gottlieb, notorious for his short temper and avoidance of socialization at all costs. He furrows his brow an appropriate amount and nods, as if to appear deeply consternated, or perhaps lost in brooding abstraction. “I see,” he says. “Hm. That wretched Dr. Geiszler, here, after so many years. The nerve of him. Thank you.”

The girl doesn’t move.

“Ah,” Hermann says. “Dismissed, I mean.”

Between the bare bones staff and Hermann’s incredibly low rank back in Hong Kong, he still hasn’t quite gotten used to the notion that he has things like interns and underlings again, let alone people who–when sent to deliver him a message, or paperwork, or lab equipment he submitted forms for–need to be explicitly dismissed to leave his presence. Newton would love it. Or, at the very least, he’d love teasing Hermann for it. (Control freak, that was what he’d call Hermann.)

Back in the safety and solitude of his private laboratory, Hermann brews a fresh pot of tea and mulls the news over. It’ll hardly be the first time Newton’s set foot at the Moyulan Shatterdome. It’ll hardly be the first time Hermann will have seen Newton since the Events of seven years ago, either. It will, however, be the first occasion on which the two collide: Newton always seems to schedule his routine Moyulan visits when Hermann is tucked safely away in some conference or council in some other bloody country, leaving their paths to cross at the most inane social events, banquets and fundraisers and black tie occasions that leave Hermann stifling under his collar and his leg aching from the strain of standing for so long.

Their words to each other in such situations have always been terse, brief, polite. Newton, after all, is a very important (and very rich) man these days, and he has plenty of elbows to bump and high society buggers to flatter without Hermann getting in his way. It’s pleasantries, is all. Lovely to see you, Dr. Geiszler. How’s work, Dr. Geiszler? The champagne is excellent, isn’t it, Dr. Geiszler? By Jove, it’s maddening. Just once Hermann would like to shout and snap at him like the good old days, to grab hold of that stupid bloody tie and shove him against a wall and kiss him, or bite him, or do anything that isn’t smile and pretend to care when he mentions that–that Alice floozy he’s shacking up with. And now, with Newton finally giving Hermann a window to meet in his own territory…

Hermann keeps a small volume of Newton’s early research on his desk–compiled long before he even knew the man–and he takes it out now, slipping a well-worn polaroid out from between its pages and propping it against his tea mug. Newton smiles out at him. “Horrible little man,” Hermann says, lovingly, and gently brushes his index finger against that handsome face.

He feigns a stomach bug to clock out of work early–fooling no one, of course, but his staff chalks it up sympathetically to the prospect of seeing his notorious ex tomorrow and says nothing–and makes a mad dash into town for a haircut and manicure. After some consideration, he pops into a clothing store for a new button-down, too. A nice one. One that fits him well. (You have a hot bod, dude, Newton would always say, you should be flaunting it.

No, no raging, or crying, or breaking things. It’s been seven years since Newton walked out on Hermann for a cushy job and designer suits, and Hermann has exactly one course of action in mind: winning him back.

——

Newton is not exactly as Hermann remembered. The changes in him are noticeable, and–for the most part, barring the loss of his glasses and personal sense of style–Hermann feels entirely neutral about them: hair more neatly tamed, stubble more neatly shaved, body ever-so-slightly more toned. Hermann seems to recall Newton saying something about CrossFit or some sort of damned exercise bike he bought at the last banquet they attended–lost ten pounds this past month! New Year’s Resolution, you know, ha, gotta stay in shape for Alice (and this was the point at which Hermann clenched his champagne flute so tightly it burst, and he excused himself to find a napkin with which to tend to his bleeding and a tall glass of whiskey from the open bar with which to tend to his agonies). Whatever it is, it seems to be working.

He manages to lure Newton out from under the thumb of his boss with vague claims of research, though Newton is not happy about it. “I got shit to do, man,” he complains. His eyes are inscrutable behind his expensive sunglasses. “It’s just not a good time. Busy, busy, busy, you know.”

They’ll have the laboratory to themselves, even more so than usual. I’ll need to have a few private words with Dr. Geiszler, Hermann had ominously announced to his staff that morning, and they’d all looked at each other in excitement. An infamous Geiszler-Gottlieb row! Hermann locks the door behind them.

“You poor dear,” Hermann says. “Running yourself ragged. You must be exhausted.”

Newton shrugs. “I am a little. I guess.” He shrugs again, and this time preens a little with it. Good: Hermann wants him nice and flattered. “It’s hard work being as important as I am, you know.”

“I imagine,” Hermann coos sympathetically. He brushes his hand across Newton’s shoulders, then nudges him at the small of his back towards his desk. “Please, Newt, I insist you have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

“I mean, if you’re offering,” Newton says, waving him off.

The instant coffee is located on the middle shelf of Hermann’s bookcase, between a dusty variety box of Twinings and an elaborate kaiju action figure Newton left in their apartment when he walked out. Hermann spoons some into a chipped blue mug and watches Newton through the man’s reflection on the kettle. He leans back in Hermann’s desk chair; he rolls his shoulders; he pops open a button on his maroon suit coat; he spies something propped up on Hermann’s desk, and picks it up. The polaroid. Hermann ducks his head to hide his smile.

“Good times, huh, dude?” Newton says. He waves it in the air.

“Mm,” Hermann says.

He hands the mug of coffee over to Newton, who’s yet to put down the polaroid. Milk and plenty of sugar. Exactly the way Newton always used to take it. “There we are, dear,” he says. “Are you hungry? Might I get you anything to eat? I’ve plenty of biscuits, and, er...” He casts a guilty glance around the mess of his workspace. “...Oranges.”

“No thanks,” Newton says, but it’s vague, unconvincing. His eyes are locked on the photograph. “Good times,” he repeats.

“Nothing to eat at all?” Hermann says.

Newton shakes himself. “Nah,” he says, and pats his stomach. “On a diet. You know, for Alice.”

Ah, of course; Alice. The mystery woman Hermann despises the very existence of. For years after Newton first broke the news to Hermann he was seeing someone new, Hermann used to pour over magazine articles and gossip sites for even a glimpse of what she might look like (and for the chance to do something cathartic, like crop her angrily from a photograph with Newton or scribble over her face with a Sharpie). Probably horrendously ugly; possibly blonde; undoubtedly lacking taste, and humor, and any other sorts of qualities a mate worthy of Newton ought to possess. At the very least, Hermann knows she isn’t at all supportive of Newton in the way she should be. Every banquet and fundraiser, she’s too busy to come, every dinner invitation Hermann finally accepts so he may properly hate the woman, she must cancel at the very last minute due to some strange illness or another.

Privately, Hermann thinks she feels threatened by him. As she should be. He and Newton have been in each other’s heads, after all, wrote letters in their youth, shared a laboratory for years, shared a bed for longer than that. It’s a simple fact one will ever know Newton like Hermann knows him.

“Of course,” Hermann says, with icy kindness. “For Alice. How is she these days? I was ever so put out when she caught–what was it–influenza, yes, that night we were meant to dine together. And the time before that, with pneumonia. And laryngitis before that. Terrific bloody coincidences, aren’t they.”

(Sorry, dude, Newton said over the phone, not sounding very sorry, but rather quite distracted. She was probably in the room, egging on his lies. She's sick. Can’t see you after all. Rain check?)

“Yeah,” Newton says. He’s started to shake his leg up and down, a nervous tic Hermann is all too aware of, seeing as he’s picked it up himself after their drift. Along with an annoying tendency to hoard sentimental rubbish. “Coincidences. If I’m being honest, Hermann–I’m not too keen on you two–well.” A strange look crosses his face, replaced in a blink of an eye with a toothy smile. “Old flame and the new flame, it’d be awkward for everyone, y’know?”

“Especially for her, I’d imagine,” Hermann says, and then he swings himself down into Newton’s lap.

Newton goes very still; the photograph slips from his fingers and flutters to the floor. “Hermann?” he squeaks.

Dropping his cane, Hermann nuzzles his face into the crook of Newton’s neck and breathes deeply; the Newton of his memories smells of burnt coffee and the sharp tang of preservation chemicals, but the Newton of now smells more of expensive cologne than anything else. Hermann can’t say he likes it much, but he presses a small kiss there anyway, marveling at the lack of the scratchy stubble he remembers so well. “What–what are you doing?” Newton says.

Another kiss. Hermann slips a hand up to caress Newton’s jaw, and Newton shivers. “I should think it’s obvious,” Hermann says. “Mm. Come on, now, love, I know I can’t be the only one of us who’s been aching for this.”

“It’s,” Newton stammers, “I,” and his sturdy fingers grip Hermann’s waist, though he makes no move to shove him away. In fact, he only draws him closer. Marvelous. “I’ve got–someone, dude,” he says, gazing at Hermann between heavy eyelids. “Alice. I have–”

Hermann kisses him, pouring into it every ounce of longing he’s felt for the last seven years, and Newton melts against him with a moan. “But does she make you feel the way I do?” Hermann murmurs.

“Uh,” Newton says.

He swipes his tongue into Newton’s mouth, enjoying the sharp jolt that shoots through Newton when he brushes against his own tongue, and pulls back with a small bite at his bottom lip. Newton always liked when Hermann kissed him messily. “Do feel free to touch me,” he says.

Newton does: one hand leaves Hermann’s waist and inches up his side instead, pausing to shove one half of his lab coat off, then the other. The coat slips to the floor as well. Newton splays five fingers over Hermann’s right pectoral. “Nice shirt,” he says, sounding rather dazed. “Good color on you.”

“I’d hoped you like it,” Hermann says happily. “Remember what you always used to say, about flaunting it? I thought it was time I’d take your advice.”

“I do,” Newton says. “I do remember. Ha.” His face splits into a grin, one of the first truly Newton-esque ones Hermann’s seen on him in years, and Hermann feels a small flare of triumph. He catches the hand at his chest and draws it to his mouth, brushing a kiss over the knuckles. Newton’s tattoos, vibrant as ever, poke out from beneath one maroon sleeve.

Hermann remembers kissing those tattoos. He remembers tracing the shape of red-yellow waves with his fingertips, of pinching the eyes of the great kaiju splashed across his chest, of teasing Newton for his rather unadorned arse and how pale it was in comparison to the rest of him. You’re one to talk, buddy, Newton would say, and he’d deliver a playful smack to Hermann’s, all skin and bones, dude, I think I bruised my hand. He used to like to keep his glasses on in bed so he could see Hermann. Make sure it’s actually happening, he’d say. His sunglasses are folded uselessly on Hermann’s desk. “I could make you so loud,” Hermann says. “We’d get noise complaints. Remember?”

Newton nods, eyes fixed on the knuckles Hermann kissed.

“I knew exactly where to touch you,” Hermann says, dropping his voice, “and how to touch you. I still do, Newton.” Newton dissolves into whimpers when his neck is kissed, a certain spot by his left thigh pressed on with a thumb; when being made love to, he likes his sides stroked, fingers pressed against his tongue; when doing the love making, he likes his hair pulled, nails raked across his back.

“Please,” Newton says, his voice cracking. “Can you–?”

Hermann shoves that ugly maroon jacket to the floor, then winds that ugly tie around his fingers and gives Newton a sharp tug. Newton moans, twice as loud as before. “Yes, darling, of course.”

They kiss, Hermann making quick work of the buttons of Newton’s shirt, Newton seemingly too shy to do anything beyond grip Hermann’s shoulders. A pink blush is spreading from the tips of his cheeks down to his neck. It’s very sweet. “Hermann,” he says.

“Mm?”

Newton wets his lips. “You like when I do this,” he says, and gives Hermann’s ear a little tug.

(They’re so big, Newton would say, it’s adorable, you’re adorable, and Hermann would swat him away, but then Newton would kiss the shell of his ear, bite his earlobe, and Hermann would gasp, and sensitive! Newton would say, adorable, absolutely adorable.)

“They’re sensitive,” Newton says. “You like when I kiss them.” He grins again, though it slips away after a moment. “I think they’ll be looking for me soon.”

“You are so terribly important, after all,” Hermann says. “It’s a very good thing I’ve locked the door. I haven’t finished having my wicked way with you yet.”

This time, Newton laughs, though it’s an uncertain little thing. “Listen,” he says, strangely urgent, and he squeezes Hermann’s arm. “Don’t let me leave, okay?” Then he shakes his head. “Actually, no. Take me home with you. Away from–from work. And Alice. Yeah. Let’s go now.”

This is unexpected, though Hermann cannot deny it’s not exactly what he hoped would happen when his foolproof plan of seduction worked. He’s suddenly very pleased he made a few more stops after picking up his new shirt: first for a very expensive bottle of wine and the makings of a dinner the Newton of ten years ago loved, the next a rather discreet one for the sort of supplies they’d need to, er, take this one step further. “Oh, yes,” Hermann says. “Oh, darling, absolutely. Er–now now?”

“Now,” Newton says. He plants a series of discoordinated, rapid-fire kisses across Hermann’s mouth and chin. “Now,” he repeats. “Keep talking to me.”

“About what?” Hermann says, frowning.

“Anything,” Newton says. “And touch me. Keep touching me. Hermann–when we get there, I have to tell you–”

“Alright, Newton, alright,” Hermann says. He did forget how needy Newton could get. He’s also missed it. He strokes back some of Newton’s neat hair, gropes around for his cane, and eases himself to his feet with a small groan. (He’s not quite as young or agile as he used to be.) Newton immediately springs to his own feet and latches onto Hermann’s arm. He's not merely needy tonight--a bit on edge, too, it seems. “Off we are, then. Be a dear and get my coat for me.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

Drive Her Crazy || Part VIII

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader

Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.

Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, eventual smut

Note: I’m not going to lie, the next part is straight up just smut. Continuously.

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII

PART VIII of X

Count: 5956

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It spread like wildfire.

The news that Wanda and Vision had officially broken up, and that he got signed to a label.

Wanda had heard pretty quickly that you and Natasha had also ended as well through Clint.

You had expected that you and Wanda would get together pretty quickly. After all, there were no more obstacles preventing the two of you from getting together.

Yet, to your pleasant surprise, Wanda slowed back on being aggressive with getting you. She was playing coy, enticing you to chase her.

And you loved a good chase.

You were meeting up with Wanda for lunch today. It would be a casual setting, you weren’t taking her anywhere fancy. After lunch, you were going to be taking a walk along the park before you needed to head back to work.

“Hey, you.”

A voice took you out of your thoughts as you turned to see Wanda, who had entered the restaurant and took a seat across from you.

“Hey,” you greeted her softly with a smile.

The two of you hadn’t been able to see each other every day with you being busy with your collaborations, and Wanda seeing an acting coach to help her with the audition you set up for her.

She was constantly buzzing around with excitement about the audition, along with being incredibly nervous.

You told her multiple times you had full confidence she would get the role. She would always flitter to your side as if cuddling into you was giving her the confidence and reassurance she needed.

“Sorry, I hope you didn’t wait long. I got caught up in a phone call for my next project.”

You waved your hand to shake it off.

“No, I just got here myself from being holed up in the studio. What’s your next project?”

Wanda was looking through the menu, contemplating what she was going to get as she answered you.

“I got invited to shoot a promo video for that upcoming fundraiser that’s happening on the beach. It’s me and a bunch of other social influencers that are going to be shooting it. They want to attract young rich people to the fundraisers and celebrities if possible.” Wanda seemed to decide what she wanted to eat and called the waitress over.

“Oh? That’s quite interesting,” you comment as the both of you order. “When will you be shooting?”

“I’ll be shooting tomorrow. It’ll be the entire today, they were kind of poor on time management. The fundraiser is happening at the end of the month.”

“Jesus, is that even enough time for enough people to see the promo video?” You ask, leaning back and running your hand through the front of your hair. You look over to see Wanda just staring at you and licking her lips.

You send her a sly smirk, and she coughs lightly at so openly gazing at you before drinking her water.

Wanda shrugs, “They’re going to be staying up all night to edit it and release it the next day, so hopefully. It’s just less than three weeks. I’ll have to go to the fundraiser too to show my support. I’ll be advertising it on my IG this week.”

Soon enough, the waitress comes over with your food, and the two of you eat, making smaller talk in between before you pay the bill and walk out together.

The two of you are walking through the park, enjoying the nice weather and scenery.

You walk pretty closely together, your shoulders lightly brushing with every step. It was when Wanda decided to brush her pinky against yours that you smiled before fully grasping her hands, lacing your fingers together.

That was happening a lot more. There was more skinship between the two of you. It was like the two of you magnetized towards each other. There always had to be something.

Wanda looks away, smiling as she bites her lip.

You two don’t say anything, just walking and swinging your hands lightly.

“So,” Wanda says, her voice husky. “How’s work for you?”

You lull your head from side to side. “It’s been pretty good. Been wrapped up in the studio a couple days. Will be there for a couple more. After that, I have to shoot the music video.”

“Wow, sounds like it’s going to be pretty busy for you,” Wanda commented. You could hear the slight twinge of disappointment in her voice. You tried not to openly smile at that, but it was kind of difficult.

God, you were like a lovesick puppy.

“Yeah,” you replied to Wanda. “It’ll be about two to three weeks before I finish, so actually right before the fundraiser. On top of that, I’m going to need to start looking at some places to stay.”

Wanda stopped walking, tugging you to a stop as well. You turn around to see Wanda’s confused face.

“Why are you looking at places?”

You rub the back of your neck, giving Wanda a shy smile. “Well, I did tell you that if I enjoyed it here enough, I would consider moving.”

Wanda’s giving you a smile as she’s pulling you a little closer.

“Anything in particular you enjoying?” She asks coyly and you grin, pulling her closer until you could wrap your arms around her waist.

“I could say a few things are keeping me around,” you say, grinning as the two of you are leaning closer.

You hadn’t kissed her since Tony’s party where she cornered you in the bathroom.

Wanda is grinning as she’s leaning in, eager to taste your lips again. Just as your lips were about to touch, your phone rang in your back pocket.

Wanda huffs in disappointment while you just grin, pulling back to pick up your phone.

Wanda watches you idly as you chat on the phone, biting her bottom lip gently as she takes in your look.

God, you looked so sexy today, wearing your tight fitted jeans, loose white v-neck shirt, and a leather jacket. When you ran your fingers through your hair earlier in the restaurant, she could see your double pierced lobe and a helix earring on your cartilage.

Wanda really just wanted to take you to bed.

She was having phantom flashes of your hands on her from the night at the hotel.

You put your phone away, turning to Wanda with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I need to actually get back to the studio right now. Let me drop you off?”

Wanda nods understandingly, and the two of you walk back to your car.

Smiling at you when you open the passenger door for her, she slips in, eyeing you as you walk over to the driver’s side.

She wanted you.

If there was one thing Wanda could always say about herself: she always got what she wanted.

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"Let’s take a break everyone, great work! At this rate, we’ll definitely finish recording today. How about a two-hour break? Go get something to eat, relax a little, and come back fresh to finish this off?”

Everyone in the studio cheers and claps at what you said, filtering out of the room.

You’re also packing up to head out as well. You needed to grab a couple things if you wanted to surprise Wanda in time.

“Whoa there,” Ryan, the engineer you’ve worked with for many of your tracks, called out to you. “Where’s the fire? This is new. You never leave the studio, even when you let everyone else go for a break.”

You laugh softly, not arguing against that.

“Well, I guess there’s a first for everything,” you reply to him, trying to find your keys.

“Oh man,” Ryan groans jokingly. “There’s only one thing that can change work habits. A girl.”

You find your keys and get ready to walk out the door. You turn your head back to him smirking.

“Oh no, not just any girl,” you tell Ryan. “It’s the girl.”

You hear Ryan chuckle as you close the door to the studio and walk out to your car.

Wanda had texted you this morning that the shooting was happening at the beach where the fundraiser will be. She seemed like she was going to be busy most of the day, shooting the promotional video and was disappointed you wouldn’t be able to see each other for a while.

You stopped by a bagel place to pick up your order before heading over.

You could see the filming happening in the distance and smiled at seeing Wanda with other girls you didn’t recognize huddled side by side as they laughed and splashed water in front of the camera.

Walking closer to the set, the security looking at you before letting you in. The hosts of fundraiser hired a director for the promotional video, they were trying to shoot multiple promo videos and had no experience in doing that. The director they hired was a close friend of theirs, also attending the fundraiser and wishing for its success.

And, it was someone you knew. You had worked with her in the past for your older music videos. You called her up to ask if it was okay to stop by the filming site for Wanda.

She said it was totally fine at the time you were coming, it would be around lunchtime anyways.

“Ashley,” you called over softly to alert her of your presence as you put down the bags of food onto the back table.

“Oh, you’re here! Cut! Everyone take a break.”

You looked over to see the director as she waved at you. Her voice had brought the attention of the crew around. Wanda looked over, and her jaw dropped slightly to see you.

She immediately ran over to you, jumping into your arms. You caught her in your arms, spinning her around once before you let her down.

“What are you doing here!” Wanda exclaims, hugging you again. “I thought you were going to be busy in the studios for a while.”

You laugh as you return her embrace. “Very busy, yes, but couldn’t resist escaping for a while to see you. Especially when you told me this morning you were just dying for a bagel.”

Wanda looks behind you and sees a table full of bagels that the staff was helping put out. She was about to say something when the director cut in.

“How thoughtful for you to bring some for the rest of us as well,” Ashley chimed, grabbing one of the bagels, and taking a huge bite. The other influencers and crews also helped themselves while Wanda just smiled at you.

“Well,” you say, not taking your eyes off of her. “I can’t look like I’m playing favorites here.”

Ashley just snorts. “Right, right. Must’ve been my imagination when you called me the other day bribing me with food for my crew if I let you on the set to see Miss Wanda Maxmimoff here.”

Everyone on the set laughs, including Wanda as you just smile sheepishly.

“Whoops, I’ve been caught,” you say, not even the slightest embarrassed that you’ve been exposed.

“Oh my gosh!” One of the influencers exclaims, turning your attention to her. “I totally remember seeing you at Wanda’s birthday party. You’re Lady Phantom!”

The other influencers who were at Wanda’s party look at you and start mouthing off in agreement.

You just smile and nod, while Wanda’s hanging on your arm.

“Oh my god, I am so freaking jealous that Wanda got you to play for her at the party. That was so amazing! Now you’re here to visit her on set and bring food to everyone!” The same girl that pointed you out says. “Are you two dating?”

She was asking so excitedly that you thought it was a little weird.

Both of you shake your head, feeling a little shy at such a direct question.

“No,” you say, coughing slightly into your fist. “Just here to support and visit a really good friend.”

Wanda shifts the conversation quickly, introducing you to all the other influencers who were in the promo videos.

Honestly, it was too many names, and you didn’t really care about any of them except Wanda, so the names really just flew over your head.

When you and Wanda got a chance to talk more privately, she went into a little more detail about the shoot and who was filming. The only name that was as big as Wanda’s was a girl who was standing off to the side, eyeing you the entire time.

Vanessa Goldaire, you remember Wanda telling you.

Wanda didn’t directly say it, but you could sense that there was tension between the two. Definitely some competition there, one always trying to outdo the other. You pretended to not notice it, though.

You had made eye contact with Vanessa a couple times, and Wanda noticed it because you had to look past her to make eye contact with the other girl.

It made her bristle somewhat, but she didn’t say anything.

Since you didn’t have to return to the studio for a while, you opted to stay and watch them shoot on set.

The switch went on for Wanda going back to work, but she was subtly eyeing you, grabbing your attention.

She dropped her towel to reveal her bikini suit, swaying her hips as she went into position.

You found yourself holding your breath as you watched her.

She was seducing you with no one even realizing it.

Wanda definitely wanted your eyes on her and her only.

You bit your lip.

God, she was perfect.

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The rest of the week, you couldn’t escape work. With the recording finished, you moved immediately into filming the music video. The day after you had finished visiting Wanda, you had Charles hire a crew for filming and sent you your usual assistant, Jane.

You had Jane post out applications for people to be in the music video. You spent the day with the producer to look over all the applications you received. The only person you were looking to find left was who would be the main lady lead of the video.

Your eyes were getting tired from looking at the portfolios, and you were about to just let the producer pick whoever he liked best when you came across one that made you smirk.

Vanessa Goldaire sent in her portfolio.

Initially, you had thought about casting Wanda for the leading lady for your music video to help her get a little more work to add to her portfolio when she wanted to audition for other roles.

In the end, you decided not to as the overall song and video didn’t match Wanda.

If you were going to put Wanda in your work, you wanted to create something that was solely meant for her. Complimented her in every way, like she was the song and story for the music video.

You believed that Wanda deserved that.

But Vanessa Goldaire?

Well, she would do, for both this music video and as your final play towards Wanda.

“I want her,” you pull her portfolio out, eyeing it briefly. It was similar to Wanda’s portfolio of work, but it was like whatever brands Wanda represented, Vanessa represented their biggest competitor.

The producer looks and nods in agreement. You give the resume over to your assistant.

“Call her and arrange it,” you tell Jane who nods.

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The next week passes quickly as you’re busy shooting the music video. It got delayed slightly when the singer you worked with got sick. She was well enough to work on day three.

You shot all the parts you could without the singer. With all craziness, you hardly had time to talk to Wanda.

On set, you met Vanessa, who was very professional when working. The two of you ended up frequently talking due to working together. Granted, it was all about work. Vanessa had asked you a few personal questions like how you met Wanda, or how long you were in the city for, or if you were seeing anyone.

She seemed pleased with the answers you provided, and you knew immediately that she was into you.

Soon enough, the music video was wrapped up, just in time for you to be able to go with Wanda to the fundraising event.

It was by no means an extreme fancy dress code since it was on the beach, but there was a level of unspoken standard that had to be met.

You and Wanda decided to meet there as there were some last-minute things you had to tie up for work before heading over.

The editing team would be finished in a couple days, so you just had spent some time watching the unedited clips and giving your directions and opinion.

After everything seemed to be okay, you left off for the fundraiser.

It was set in the evening, the sun still out but would soon set. You had recognized a couple people through your industry and made small talk.

Excusing yourself eventually, you went back to trying to find Wanda and soon enough, you did. She was chatting with Ashley and a couple other of the influencers (the names still escape you).

You come up, placing your hand on the small of her back, surprising her as she turns around. She’s wearing a one-piece pastel pink jumpsuit that she looks absolutely stunning in.

“There you are!” She utters, pulling you into a tight hug as it’s been a while since the two of you have seen each other. You feel her subtly inhale your scent and you do the same, feeling it calm you as you’re finally with her.

“Hey,” you say into her hair before the two of you let go, and you turn to greet everyone else.

They’re making small talk before you see Vanessa walk by. She has her arm around a man’s arm as she smiles at you when she passes by.

You’re about to turn to ask Wanda if she knows who Vanessa is with when an influencer (Lily, you think) standing next to you already starts to gossip.

“Oh, great,” Lily says as Vanessa walks past them. “Vanessa brought Derek Cartwell with her.”

“Who’s that?” You asked, the name not ringing any bells to you.

“I guess you can say Derek is a newcomer to the group. He won the lottery about...six months ago? It was about two million he won, and he went right into business. He invested everything into his idea and just sold his venture for five million. He’s already onto his next idea and is apparently looking for investors this time in addition to putting his own money in.” Lily tells you as everyone’s eyeing Vanessa and Derek.

You’re overwhelmingly unimpressed.

Really? His net-worth was only five million? Your last album made more than that.

The fact that Vanessa would bring him as a way to get your attention was also unimpressive.

She could’ve picked someone a little better at least.

Soon enough, everyone was being ushered to the seating area for the main event of the fundraiser, the live auction.

A lot of the guests who came here had donated items for the auction as sponsors. Since their target audience was young rich people, the items donated were some interesting things.

There were custom artworks, luxury vacation packages, high-end jewelry, wines, rare books, and so many other items.

You were content to sit with Wanda, enjoying the auction. Most of these items were out of Wanda’s price range, but it didn’t seem like anything particularly interested her so far, so you didn’t make any attempts to bid for anything.

Most of the items were being increased by increments of $1000 to $1500 increments.

It was getting pretty upscale quickly, but nothing had surpassed $50,000.

Vanessa and Derek sat on the other section next to you and Wanda, also in the first row. You had your hand casually resting on the back of Wanda’s chair with your legs crossed.

You could feel Vanessa eyeing you, and so could Wanda. You pretended to not notice or look over, and Wanda changed her seating position so that her knees would face you, and brush against your knees lightly.

The night went on with Derek bidding for things for Vanessa. The crowd was whispering praises to her, that she was so lucky to have someone get her all these things.

You could tell it was grating on Wanda.

It wasn’t until the last item, a pearl necklace, came into the auction that caught Vanessa’s attention.

“This is a Mikimoto white south sea cultured pearl strand, with an 18k yellow gold piece. The starting price is $5500.” The auctioneer said, and immediately, someone from the crowd increased it by another $1500. You could see from your peripheral that Vanessa was whispering in Derek’s ear, probably that she wanted the necklace.

The necklace was already at $10,000.

“$30,000,” Derek said, holding up his bidding card.

People were whispering again. Women who had attended were clamoring about how Vanessa was a lucky girl.

You finally turned your head over to see Vanessa staring you, a smirk on her lips.

You hear Wanda sigh, and you turn your attention to her.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, and Wanda just shakes her head.

“Nothing,” she says quietly to not draw attention to herself. “It’s just...Vanessa always does this at every event. She ends up making the event about her.”

You saw Wanda eyeing the necklace as well, but she didn’t seem to say anything about it.

You licked your lips, a small smirk coming out.

“$30,000 to the gentleman in the front. Anyone else?” The auctioneer called out.

Lily had told everyone that Derek was investing his money into his next venture while looking for investors as well. From what it sounded like, he hadn’t quite found anyone yet.

He had bid for many things tonight, winning most of them. If he weren’t careful, he would end up not having enough to invest into his next business venture.

You held your bidding card.

“$35,” you called.

“$35,000. Anyone else?” The auctioneer called again.

“$40,000,” Derek held up his card again.

“$45,” You answer quickly, card raised again.

“$50,” Derek retorted.

“$55,” You answered. Wanda was looking eyes wide at you as she pulled at your sleeve.

Derek looked at you, half-impressed but also half-annoyed that you were competing with him.

“$80,000,” Derek jumped the price, smirking at you.

At this point, Derek had met the necklace’s worth and then some. It would just be insane for you to bid any higher.

You smirked back at him.

He didn’t know insanity was your game.

“$100,000.”

There were whispers of shock around in the room. You knew that Derek couldn’t bid any higher.

He had reached his limit on how much he could bid before he would be putting his next business venture at risk.

His jaw clenched slightly, but he put on a friendly smile before conceding to you.

“$100,000. Anyone else?” The auctioneer said himself, also in slight shock. “Going once, going twice, sold! To the generous lady in the front!”

There were thunderous claps around as the auction came to an end. You came up to collect the necklace and held it delicately in your fingers. You went up to Wanda, who was looking at you with wide eyes and mouth slightly opened.

“What are you...?” She asked, everyone’s eyes on the two of you.

You gently took one hand to move the back of her hair to the side before undoing the clasp of the necklace and delicately placing it on her.

Once it was on, you eyed her, really just gazing at her defined collarbone.

“There,” you said softly. “Thought your outfit was missing something.”

Wanda just chokes on a laughter as she flings herself into your arms. You return her laughter with your own as you return her embrace, squeezing her lightly.

Well, at least Wanda could say this event definitely didn’t end up just being about Vanessa.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The fundraiser moves on to just late-night drinks and chatting. The host actually comes up to greet you, thanking you for your generous donation.

“Oh, it’s quite alright. It’s a noble and worthy cause, plus Wanda now has her outfit complete, so we’re all winners here.”

The host just laughs, shaking your hand once more before moving to Wanda and shaking her hand as well.

“You are a very, very lucky girl,” he says, and she chuckles.

“Don’t I know it,” she tells him, eyeing you from the side with a smile.

He leaves the two of you together, and you turn to face each other.

“You’re unbelievable,” Wanda says, touching her necklace again. This was even more than the engagement ring Vision had gotten her.

She was basking as the lady of the night. It felt good to finally stick it to Vanessa. Wanda could see that Vanessa had been eyeing you all night, and it was really starting to annoy her.

Wanda couldn’t help but look at Vanessa and smirk when they made eye contact.

She was preening, really.

“Well, as I said, it’s a worthy and noble cause,” you have your lips turned into a crooked grin.

“The charity?”

“No. You,” you clarify, blinking slowly as Wanda tries to control her smile, biting her bottom lip.

Wanda’s moving closer to you again, and you don’t think you could survive holding out any longer.

If Wanda dragged you home, you would be quite the happy and willing participant in her plans.

Your cellphone started ringing again.

Wanda let out a quiet groan of disappointment while you blinked and pulled back.

You swore you could hear Wanda mutter under her breath, “The universe is plotting against me, I swear to God.”

You could only give her an apologetic look as you picked up your phone.

“Ah, shit,” you say as you hang up the phone. “I gotta go back to the studio. There’s some kind of problem with one of the clips. Are you going to be okay? Did you want me to drop you off or anything?”

Wanda just smiles at you with a sigh.

“No,” she says, looking around her. “Everyone is still here, so I should be too. I’ll get one of the other girls to drop me off.”

You nod, looking over to the other girls before looking back at Wanda. You purse your lips slightly before you lean in again, this time to cup Wanda’s jaw and neck as you kiss her cheek softly.

“Don’t get in any trouble,” you tenderly say, smiling as she sighs happily and chuckles.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Wanda says teasingly.

Waving once more to Wanda, you head out to your car.

You sigh, feeling sad that you have to part with her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You end up having the meet with the editing team a couple times the next couple of days. It’s the middle of the week when everything officially wraps up, and the video is posted.

You celebrate as always by buying champagne for everyone at the bar a couple blocks from the studio. The crew and staff decide to stick around longer, ordering more drinks to celebrate their hard work.

You have no plans to stay longer, though, wanting to see Wanda instead. You had planned to make a last play towards Wanda, but you found yourself just missing her more.

The game was good, but every good game needs an end.

You were thinking about grabbing some wine on the way home, take Wanda back to your place, set up a little blanket fort on your balcony, stargaze, and then place your lips everywhere on her body.

Just as you were about to leave, Vanessa came up to you, smiling as she leaned against the bar counter, her top riding up to show her midriff a little.

“Hey, hotshot,” she greeted you, her voice sultry as she licked her bottom lip.

“Hey, Vanessa,” you greeted politely. “Great work.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Vanessa says, motioning the bartender over. “Let me at least get you a drink.”

You nod, not wanting to be rude while everyone was around, but you hope she’s not going to drag this out now.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Please hurry and take your picture, Lil, I’m starving,” Wanda whines as Lily had now taken her 8th photo of their dinner at the restaurant.

Lily shushes her and takes her photo.

“Not all of us have magic photo-taking skills like you where you can take 2-3 photos, and they’re all amazing.” Lily looks at the photo she just took, seemingly satisfied with this one, and putting her phone away.

Wanda just laughs, pulling her plate towards her as she digs in and moans.

“Oh god, this is good,” Wanda savours the flavour with her eyes closed and fingers delicately in front of her mouth.

Lily nods in agreement, eating her own food. They try a bite of each other’s seemingly also happy with the other’s choice. They make small talk about work and some brands they’re going to be working with soon. But then Lily brings up the fundraiser.

“God,” Lily says, “that fundraiser was insane. I can’t believe your girlfriend dropped $100k on a necklace for you. Do you know how hopping mad Vanessa was after? Oh my god, Derek was so embarrassed.”

Wanda smiled, scooping more food onto her fork. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Lily snorted. “Next time we do a fundraiser together if you don’t drop $100k on an item for me, our friendship is over.”

Wanda just laughs, shaking her head a little as she looks down at her plate.

“Seriously, girl,” Lily says, leaning her head over the table more. “You need to hurry and lock that shit down.”

Lily says it kind of jokingly, mostly because she knows that Vision and Wanda had recently split up from their engagement, but then she catches the look in Wanda’s eye.

“Oh my god, you bitch,” Lily exclaims, leaning back in her chair with a smile in disbelief. “You actually want to lock that shit down. With a ring and shit.”

Wanda is blushing, trying to contain her smile as she runs her fingers through her hair.

“Holy shit,” Lily says, “Why do you lesbians move so fast?”

Wanda just rolls her eyes, not bothering to correct Lily, but is surprised with herself with how fast she did want to progress with you.

The idea of a ring on your finger, indicating to everyone that you were hers was unbelievably desired by Wanda.

But that was crazy.

“Well,” Lily says, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “You should probably hurry with that then, or at least hurry and get her to be your girlfriend.”

“Why?” Wanda says, wiping her mouth as well by patting it.

Lily looks at her with a brow raised, surprised she didn’t know.

“Vanessa told me that she got the part to be in Lady Phantom’s new music video. It’s obvious that she’s yours, Wanda, but you know Vanessa is always trying to one-up you. They’re celebrating right now at the bar, and you know how she gets when she’s drinking with someone that she wants.”

The new is shocking to Wanda. You hadn’t mentioned anything about Vanessa being in your music video. She flashes back at every party she’s been at with Vanessa and how that minx would seduce her target and swore.

“Shit,” Wanda says, standing up. She rummages through her bag for her wallet, but Lily waves her off.

“It’s fine, I got this. You should probably go.”

Wanda gives her friend a grateful smile before running out the door and grabbing a cab. She realizes that she doesn’t know what bar you’re actually at and is about to call and ask you when her phone buzzes.

Lily: They’re at the Blue Lagoon. Good luck, girlie. Get your girl!

Wanda mentally thanks her friend again before giving the cab driver the location.

When they arrive, Wanda grabs cash from her wallet, giving the driver the money before getting out.

“Keep the change!” She yells before making her way into the bar.

When she gets in, she finds that it’s pretty busy. She sees you immediately standing at the bar with Vanessa, both drinking. Wanda watches as Vanessa casually tries to lean closer, bending her leg so that it would brush against your leg. Vanessa is biting her straw, giving you bedroom eyes before she’s licking the tip of her straw.

Wanda is making her way over, because if Vanessa thinks she can snatch you...she has another thing coming.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were watching Vanessa’s antics, really kind of suffering through it. Maybe if you hadn’t met Wanda or this was the early stages of the game, this would’ve been incredibly attractive to you.

But it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t Wanda.

Her knee was brushing against yours, and you knew it was probably time to call it a night and make your escape.

Just as you were about to say something, you felt someone wrap their hands around your arm.

Turning your head over, you and Vanessa were both surprised to see Wanda standing there, smiling.

“Wanda,” you say shocked. “What are you doing here?”

Wanda doesn’t answer you, only looking at you to wrap her hand around the back of your neck as she pulls you roughly into a hot searing kiss.

You moan immediately in response, feeling Wanda’s lips against yours as she’s kissing you fervently. Your hands immediately wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to your body.

She pulls back, her lips making a small popping sound as she does, smirking at you with bedroom eyes.

“Take me home,” she says, and you nod immediately. You don’t need to be told twice.

Wanda looks over at Vanessa, who is frowning and gripping her drink tightly. She eyes Vanessa, cocking her eyebrow.

“Stay away from her,” Wanda tells Vanessa, pulling you closer to her. “She’s mine.”

Wanda grabs your hand and is pulling you out of the bar. You pass Ryan, and he’s giving you a shit-eating grin, but you don’t even do anything since you’re too happy.

God, that was fucking hot.

Wanda was fucking hot.

The two of you hop into a cab, and you’re giving your address as Wanda is sitting in the cab like she didn’t just barge into a bar and told Vanessa to fuck off basically.

She’s looking out the window while you’re trying to calm your libido, blinking rapidly.

The cab driver drops you off at your place, and you pay him while Wanda is looking around.

She hadn’t been to your temporary place before, or really this close to this part of her community.

The cab driver drives off, and you watch him for a second before turning and leading Wanda to the door.

Once the door is shut behind you, she’s immediately all over you again. Pulling at your clothes, stripping you of your jacket as she’s pressing her lips on yours over and over again.

You lead her to the bedroom where she pushes you back onto the mattress before straddling you.

She was definitely not going to let you go this time, grabbing your phone from your back pocket, turning it off before flinging it onto the ground.

That blasted thing has gotten in her way too many times.

Wanda is just looking at you like she’s going to devour you, a prey that she’s finally caught.

You lick your lips.

But you’re oh so willing to be eaten, you think with a smirk on your lips.

PART IX

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x ofc #Wanda Maximoff Imagine #yandere wanda #Scarlet Witch x Reader #Scarlet Witch Imagine #yandere wanda maximoff #yandere marvel #Avengers #Avengers AU #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #mcu #Modern Avengers AU #Marvel Imagine #mm: my fics #series.drivehercrazy #g.smut

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mysteryofren · 4 years

Text

Think About What I Said

part 18 of So Happy Together

17: https://mysteryofren.tumblr.com/post/617193359827664896/tomorrow-is-another-day

Note: ive spent all day making star wars themed food and desserts! now its time for your treat here kids!

The next morning you felt sick. You would have to see them. At least after today you wouldn't see either of them for a week. You listened as your alarm rang out. You stayed in bed staring at the ceiling. Listening to it blare. Elaine got up, and turned the light on. She looked at you while you stayed still.

“Are you going to tell me about what happened with Rey?” she asked while going over to you.

“Soon. I still can't wrap my head around it.”

“Did she at least tell you what was happening with them?”

“She thinks there's someone else.”

“What a fucking dog. Someone else on top of you two? What could possibly be wrong with him.”

“El…” you said hoping she would catch on.

“What?” she asked while she laid next to you to comfort you.

“It's me.” she wasn't saying anything. Why wasn't she saying anything?

“That night. The night of your game a lot of things happened.” you explained holding back tears.

“You're not with him are you?”

“No, he wanted to cheat on Rey with me. I can't be someone's second choice El I just can't.”

“I know. You shouldn't have to be. You should never be. You deserve to be with someone who loves you and wants to give you the world. What did you and him do that night?”

“We practically made out in my car. He told me he needed me. I ignored him. I've been ignoring him since then. He texts me everyday to apologize and ask me to talk to him, but I just can't hear it.”

Your second alarm went off. Elaine turned it off and got up. “C’mon.”

She held out her hand and you took it. She helped you up, and looked at you.

“You don't need him. I know it's hard. You never liked someone like you liked him, but you’ll feel this again. One day you will find a nice man who loves you. You'll love him too. You two will fall in love, and have a fairytale wedding. You'll have beautiful kids. Then one day they'll ask about your first heartbreak. Then you’ll tell them about Ben, and it wont even hurt.” she was right.

“I love you.” you whispered to her. She hugged you, and you hugged her back. She always knew what to say. She knew what you needed to hear. Once you two let go of eachother you both got ready quickly. You both talked about what she did with Matt the night before heading out the door. They just played video games like they always did, but you still loved hearing about it.

You walked out the door together and walked over to the main school building. Once inside you both said your goodbyes, and went your separate ways. First period always went by in a breeze. It was english a subject you liked, and on top of it Phasma was there with you. Once you arrived Ms.Sloane informed everyone what their spring break reading assignment would be. You had to read the entirety of The Tempest by William Shakespeare. It wasn't a long play so it wasn't that bad. Apparently it was going to be the spring play so she wanted everyone to know it, or at least some of it.

Phasma and you talked the entire period. You told her about what happened with Ben and Rey the night before, but you didn't tell her about the kiss. It's not that it wasn't good enough to talk about, because by the stars it was the most amazing thing you've ever experienced. Its that you knew if you talked about it you would start thinking about him again. You were about to go to Italy for a week, and you didnt wanna whine and moan about Ben Solo the entire time. You wanted to pretend you were worlds away from all his drama.

Sooner or later the time would come. It was 3rd period. You got there early so you could put your head down and avoid eye contact with Ben. or worse. Rey. After some time of having your head down you heard laughing. You decided to look up and see who it was, and of course it was them. They were back to holding hands, and looking happy. Too happy, you thought. They took their usual spots upfront, and you put your head back down. About 20 minutes into class there was a knock on the door. Windu opened it and a student handed him 2 notes.

“Miss Kenobi;” he called out. You stood up and looked at him. “It seems your grandfather is here to take you home for the day.”

Huh. that's weird. He was supposed to be getting you at 2 it's only 10:30. You packed your bag quickly.

“And Mr. Solo. it seems you are wanted in your uncle's office.” you walked towards the door when you heard Windu call out to you.

“Have a fun trip to Italy Miss Kenobi I'll see you when we return.”

“Thank you Mr.Windu.” you said before quickly ducking out trying to avoid Ben. you practically ran once you walked out the door. You were sure he wasn't far behind you, but just in case you picked up speed. Once you reached the office you stopped for a moment to collect your breath. You opened the doors, and stepped in. you made your way to the office where you saw Luke and your grandpa talking.

“Ahh Miss Y/N, I was hoping I could see you before you left.” shit. What was this about. You ran through anything that you could have done to get in trouble. You nodded at him, and he motioned you to follow him. Your grandfather stretched his arms towards your bag and took it for you while you talked to him. You followed behind Luke and you both made your way into his office.

“So,” he began. “I've got a few problems, Y/N.”

“Like what, sir?” you asked with shaking breath.

“Don't worry kid you're not in trouble. Someone is Though.” shit. What was this about?

“I'm not following you sir.”

“You see. I have a bunch of students complaining about screaming between a few students. I've always got a hole in the wall of one of my dorm rooms.” OH THANK THE STARS YOU REALLY WEREN'T IN TROUBLE.

“Oh. Yes, I know what you’re talking about now.”

“So, I have Rey's story. Ben is going to give me his story. I just need yours.”

“I apologize, but why do you think i'm involved?”

“Rey said you went in her dorm after they got in a fight. she also said you helped her.”

“Well, there's not much to tell. I heard a bang then some yelling. I got worried that someone was hurt, so I ran over.”

“When you saw that nobody was hurt why didn't you just go back to your room? You could have gone back to studying, or hanging out, but instead not only did you talk to Ben. You got Rey out, and talked to her.”

“I'm not sure what you're trying to imply.” ok just act stupid and deny, deny, deny.

“Listen, our families have known each other a long time. I've seen how Rey treats you. I know how badly Ben hurt you. What I'm asking is. Why is it that you helped them? You could have pretended like nothing was happening, but instead you chose to step in and stop the situation from escalating.” Was he really asking why you helped? And did you really not know the answer?

“I guess i'm an idiot. I know they hurt me. I know it will happen again. I just was worried about them and I went over.”

“You're not an idiot. You're just kind hearted.” you weren't sure how to respond. You both sat in silence for a few seconds before he broke it.

“Tell me Y/N, what college are you planning on going to?”

“The Pratt Institute.”

“I'm very grateful for everything you've done for my nephews. When you apply to Pratt. I assume you will need a letter of recommendation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Once you're ready to send the application. I would very much like to write one for you.”

“That's very kind, but I don't want you to feel obligated.”

“It wouldn't be an obligation. It would be an honor.” is it appropriate to cry in front of your principle?

“Thank you so much, Luke. you have no idea how much that means to me.”

“It's no problem. Now let's get you out of here so you and your grandfather can start your vacation.” he walked you out of the office, and down the hall. You saw your grandfather sitting with Ben. They were whispering about something. As you and Luke walked into the waiting area Ben looked up at you. He stood and smiled at you. You turned your attention to your grandfather.

“Are we ready to go?” you asked him.

“Yes, I thought I would pick you up early so you could spend some time with Gideon before we left.” you grabbed your bag from him and turned to leave when you heard him say something. It wasn't to you though.

“Think about what I said, Ben.”

“I will, sir, thank you.” Ben sounded so happy it made you sick.you still loved him. You just knew ignoring him would be the best choice in the long run.

You and your grandfather walked out. He went to your dorm with you, and helped you gather your bags. You wrote a small note for Elaine telling her you would miss her, and wishing her luck on both her date, and her NYU tour. You grabbed your camera and headed to the car. It took everything in you not to ask him what he had talked about with Ben. Did he give him advice on what to do about him and Reys situation? You tried shoving the thought of him to the back of your head. You found yourself doing a lot of that these days. It seemed like no matter how hard you tried he always weaseled his way back into your mind. You decided to try talking to your grandpa to try and keep your mind occupied. You both talked about the trip and what you both were looking forward to doing. He told you about the hotels you would be staying at. You were excited. A change of scenery could help you tremendously. You remembered something all of a sudden.

“Do you think we can stop somewhere for breakfast? It's a bit far out, but I've wanted to go for a while.”

“Of course do you know where it is?” you handed him a piece of paper and he looked at it.

“This is 2 hours away. What if we head there before the flight so we can go to the airport after.”

“Sounds good to me.” you both eventually got to his house. You greeted Gideon at the door, and took him outback to play a bit. Your grandfather sat outside with you spending your time talk, and playing with Gideon. He loved that dog as much as you did. Part of you is glad he got Gideon, not just for you, but for him. Ever since mamas passing hes been alone, and the thought killed you. Now that Gideon was around there was always someone there for him. Someone to talk to. Someone to mess around with. Someone to come home to. you told him that too. you wanted him to know how much you love Gideon, because of what he does for your grandfather.

it felt like you two had been talking for a few minutes. in reality it had been hours. It was time to go. Time to start a new adventure. First though, there was someone you had to see. You packed the car with his bags, and he started driving to the city. A few hours later he parked in front of the small strip mall.

“How did you find this place?” he asked.

“A friend works here.” you got out of the car and waited for him to follow after you.

The smell of coffee was the first thing that got your attention. You weren't really a coffee drinker, but it smelled heavenly. You walked over to the small display case that held baked goods. You could tell it was all fresh as it was fogging up the glass a bit. The cafe wasn't too full, but it had a few people at tables. You could tell they probably came here to work. You looked up at the drink menu with your grandfather next to you. A few seconds went by before a familiar face walked out from the back room.

“Sorry about that, I just had some stuff come out of the oven.” she said while redoing the knot on her apron.

“It's alright.” you replied. She looked up and smiled at you.

“Y/N it's so good to see you again!” she walked around the counter and gave you a hug.

“Pop pop remember Amilyn? She's the woman who helped me that night after the dinner at the Skywalkers.” he took her hand and shook it.

“Thank you so much for helping her. I have no idea what I would've done had something happened to her.” she shook his hand back.

“It's no problem. You have an amazing daughter, sir.”

“Oh she's actually my granddaughter.”

“Either way she's very sweet. Now what can I get you guys.” She took your orders and made them. When she was done she called someone from the back and asked them to watch the register. She grabbed a few cookies from the case, and walked with you and your grandfather to a table. She sat down with you both, and you all talked for about an hour before it was time for you guys to leave. She sent you guys with a few snacks for the flight. You thanked her and both you and your grandfather hugged her before leaving. You walked out and your grandfather automatically asked you to remind him to tell his employees about her shop. Part of you wanted to visit because you hadn't gotten the chance to go. Another part of you wanted to visit, because you knew bringing your grandpa would bring her a lot more business since your grandfather was guaranteed to tell all his friends about it. It sounded weird, but you know small businesses don't tend to do so well for long. You knew if he told his friends they would try it, and then tell their friends. It wasn't much of a thank you, but you knew there was nothing rich people loved more than supporting local businesses for popularity. If anyone deserves it it's her.

You both arrived at the airport. There was only about an hour before departure. You guys rushed to your gate with your bags in hand. By the time you made it to the boarding area there was about 10 minutes left. You guys sat and waited. You sent out a final text to the first order letting them know you were about to board. You sat there anxiously waiting to get on. Finally they had called your flight number. You and your grandfather got on and went to your seats. This was going to be the best week ever.

Tags: @wondering-wishing-well @wumboho @pylopenpolo @duty-isnt-always-honour

#ben solo fanfiction #teen!ben solo #ben solo #bensoloxreader #ben solo x reader #teen!reader #reader insert #kenobi!reader #obi wan kenobi #star wars tros #star wars tfa #star wars au #star wars fanfiction #star wars #amilyn holdo #oc #luke skywalker #mace windu #may the fourth be with you

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glorious-blackout · 4 years

Text

Junior Doctor Shenanigans - Back to Medicine:

Moving back to Medicine after spending six months in Surgery is like jumping from the fire back into the frying pan, except you’ve become so accustomed to the anxiety-fuelled adrenaline the fire brings that its absence makes you uncomfortable. It’s very disconcerting to still be on a ward round at midday when you’re so used to running around doing jobs to prepare for the second ward round in the afternoon.

My ward is split between the Endocrine and Infectious Disease teams, which is lovely because there’s always plenty of people about. Of the four junior doctors on the ward, three of us have moved from Surgery so it feels like our little team is still somewhat intact. This has admittedly manifested in us all moaning excessively about being back in Medicine, but given that our free time has always been spent moaning about something or other, this only adds to the sense of familiarity.

My poor colleague who has spent his entire year on surgical wards was apparently ‘traumatised’ by his first Medical On-Call shift (in which we cover every medical ward in the hospital that isn’t the admissions unit). We did try to prepare him by saying it was basically like dealing with our old surgical ward on a wider scale, but apparently that wasn’t sufficient preparation and his evening was so bad that he felt compelled to come in early the following day to make sure one of his sick patients was okay. For context, I should point out that I’m talking about the most nonchalant person I’ve ever met. If the shift was so bad that it riled him up, all I can say is that I’m glad I wasn’t on it.

We were mostly sympathetic, although that didn’t stop one of us from paging him during lunch the next day to ask if he was looking after a patient called ‘Dixie Normus’ (it took him a second to catch on).

As far as I can tell, the Endocrine consultants I work with are all lovely, which makes me lucky because the Infectious Disease consultants are *bonkers*. My friend came back from her ward-round one day incredibly exasperated because the consultant had stopped antibiotics for a patient who was clearly septic with a chest infection. His alternative diagnosis? A condition called Sweet Syndrome which is incredibly rare in the UK. His reasoning for this was that the man’s white cell count was low (which, it should be pointed out, is a common feature of infection) and that he had a rash (which *could* point towards Sweet Syndrome as an incidental diagnosis… but it certainly wasn’t causing his raging sepsis). Cue a Chest X-ray which showed a blatant lobar pneumonia, and still the consultant felt that antibiotics weren’t appropriate. Thankfully my friend’s senior agreed with her and decided to restart the antibiotics behind the consultant’s back. The patient ultimately showed improvement because of that decision, although that didn’t stop the antibiotics debate from becoming a daily occurrence.

Apparently the Infectious Disease consultants aren’t particularly good at talking to each other directly, although my friend found out to her amusement that they have a habit of arguing with each other on paper. When looking through the notes of a patient with viral encephalitis, she found an early entry from one consultant stating “Switch IV Acyclovir to (insert rarer alternative here) as this has a better mechanism of action”, followed a few days later by the other consultant writing, “Switching to new medication was an ineffective decision as it doesn’t cross the blood-brain barrier. Re-commence Acyclovir”. This back-and-forth went on for several pages.

I’m at the stage where I can review patients on my own during the ward round - an idea that used to terrify me, but now excites me for the sole reason that it means I have something useful to do in the mornings. Most of the patients I’m trusted to see are the ones who have been in for weeks and are simply waiting for homecare/nursing homes - and therefore the patients where the day-to-day plan doesn’t change all that much - but it’s a start!

I pride myself on being able to tolerate some rather disgusting sights after all these years of experience in dissection rooms and operating theatres, but for some reason the one thing that still makes me feel nauseous is the sight of an ulcerated foot - something which unfortunately comes up a lot in a ward full of diabetic patients. I was relieved to find that this wasn’t just me; after we reviewed one patient who had osteomyelitis secondary to an infected ulcer, my senior admitted to me, “I’m glad they changed the dressings this morning so we had an excuse not to look, otherwise I might have fainted right there.” Turns out not even doctors can stand the sight of feet.

Surgery has made us too efficient, to the point where we tend to finish all our jobs by half three in the afternoon and we’ve been sent home early twice. We’ve also been reasonably well-staffed this week, which seems like a long-forgotten luxury after two months of an altered surgical rota based on minimal staffing. I’ve been warned that such a calm week isn’t the norm and that things have the potential to become hectic, but after dealing with a combination of Gastro and Surgery for ten months I have a feeling that Endocrine’s ‘hectic’ days are going to feel like a breeze in comparison. I may be tempting fate with that statement, but we’ll see how things go… 😉

Despite experiencing a rather unconventional first year as a doctor and having my portfolio requirements altered drastically as a result, I have officially passed my ARCP (Annual Review of Competency Progression) and am therefore allowed to advance into my second year in August! Honestly, after everything that’s happened, the news felt a little anticlimactic at first (the fact that we can’t access the certificates yet due to IT difficulties probably adds to this, though that’s very on-brand for the NHS) but after letting it sink in, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Here’s to starting work as an FY2 in eight (!!!) weeks’ time 😊

#junior doctor shenanigans #medicine #rambling #long post

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ectodog · 4 years

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it’s the 4th anniversary of the premier of vld which of course means i have assembled a rough timeline for my descent into voltron special interest hell. it goes something like this:

- june 10 2016: vld season 1 premiers. i am none the wiser

- january 20 2017: season 2 comes out. this fact is irrelevant to me

- august 4 2017: season 3 happens. still not entirely sure what a “voltron” even is

- mid-august 2017: one of my friends cosplays keith. that’s cool. who’s keith?

- october 17 2017: season 4 arrives. that’s fine i guess

- march 2 2018: season 5 has entered the building. i am vaguely aware that i have known people who watched it at some point. the fandom is apparently “terrifying” but i survived homestuck, so i scoff at the concept and go on with my life

- june 15 2018: season 6 drops. i see a bunch of cool gifs and pretty fanart. coupled with the hype i have absorbed from the lead up to it, i wonder if i should give the show a watch

- june 16 2018: i start watching vld. two (four) episodes in and i love it. i can already tell i’m a hunk kinnie, and this brings me no end of joy

- june 28 2018: within two weeks, i have caught up entirely. i am thriving in the post-s6 hype

- july 20 2018: at sdcc, the Big Reveal happens. shiro is gay. he is a disabled main character of of colour in a wildly popular show for kids, and he is kind and brave and the pinnacle of masculinity, and he is gay. no matter your shipping opinions, this is incredible news and it’s hard to Not ride the high, so why bother trying? they show a trailer and announce the release date for season 7, and within hours a bunch of booted recordings of s7e1 are floating around online

- july 23 2018: my interest level has gotten to the point where i need to make a separate twitter for it, so i do. (fun fact: as of today, less than 2 years later, said twitter has over 7300 posts on it. my main, 4x that old, has ~30k)

- august 10 2018: season 7 is online at 1am my time. im selling at an artist alley all weekend, starting the following morning. i binge half the season anyway before passing out, and completely avoid the internet until i can watch the rest later that day

- october 5 2018: at nycc, the trailer for s8 and release date are revealed. i immediately book the announced day off work because i know i will want to watch the entire thing at once the second it’s out

- mid-october 2018: “leaks” of s8 start appearing online. pretty much no one in the fandom believes them, because no one Likes them. they seem ridiculous. people start making “leakverse” fanworks to feed some of the finale anticipation into, including me. no one really thinks they’re plausible at all

- december 14 2018: season 8 airs. i post a quick but heartfelt fanart before gearing up for 1am. it starts, and i cry. the first time they form voltron, i cry some more. things keep happening, and i keep getting tears on my screen, and i have to pause and start it over and over, but i live tweet the whole thing anyway. the leaks were... real. i come out of it unsure how i feel, exactly, but i am exhausted from the marathon and so immediately pass out

- the same day, after some sleep: im upset and confused as to why the finale season was so hollow. i see im not alone. it’s a rough week, feeling like something i love so deeply let me down so much. i realize it’s only been 6 months since i got into it - but, clinging to a deep sense of betrayal, i cry some more anyway

- the immediate aftermath: there are petitions and accusations of censorship and conspiracies about where the “real” s8 is. it’s hard not to get caught up in, or at least dragged down by, the lack of hype. no one who worked on the show says anything for days, weeks, months. fix it fanwork starts cropping up, and i surround myself in them. none of the excitement from before is there, not the same way it was. i start a new and highly ambitious piece of art out of spite. it’s left unfinished

- january 2 2019: lion forge releases the third volume of vld comics. no one really cares. i certainly don’t

- the intermediate aftermath: it becomes clearer by the day that the season was, simply put, a failure and a flop. no one liked it. kids cried over it and parents had no idea how to explain it to them. the fandom and community dim for a while, but i keep immersing myself in the trove of fanwork that already existed, and i start trying again to make some of my own

- may 29 2019: lion forge comics announces that they are not renewing their license to make more vld comics. that, coupled with the abysmally rated final season, seems to be the nail in the coffin for this iteration of the ip. there won’t be anything else official for vld. somehow, this sparks a renewed interest in me. despite everything, im more dedicated than ever before to preserve and proliferate my good experiences. i know this won’t be a blip in my history as a fan, so i’m determined to be happy with it, as best i can be

- the rest: is, as they say, history. as of now, i have something like 20 fanworks of my own in progress for vld. my ao3 bookmarks number in the 100s, and my to-read list is at over 250. ive made a concerted effort to be more active and engaged in the fandom, because it came so close to fizzling out, for me and maybe for everyone, but it’s brought me so much goodness that i cant and Won’t let that happen, not without a fight

it’s been just under 2 years since i decided to watch voltron on a whim. and it has honestly become a central part of my interests and identity in that time - but for the majority of it, it’s been because of fandom and fanworks, and that’s maybe what made it stick so well to begin with: the creative, varied, amazing parts of it that no network mandate could have offered on its own

this started as a way to catalog my journey into and through vld but honestly it kind of became a love letter to the fandom (at least, my corner of it). that’s what’s made these last years so special - what’s made them simultaneously fly by and feel like a solid constant. a dedicated, talented fan base who are capable of so much more than the constraints of the source material

it’s amazing to look back on, and incredible to keep looking forward to. we’ve all been told - “go, be great”

we have been, and continue to be. like the stars, and like my love for vld, it’s inevitable

so thank you all for the years of “great”. 🖤

#this got so far away from me im so sorry #but i really wanted to write it out so! there you have it #voltron #vld #long post

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cozyteez · 4 years

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Hii, do u have any tips for writing fics?? I’m so used to writing research reports, lab reports, and formal essays that creative writing has become something I really struggle with. I guess it’s having the freedom to write anything and not knowing how to make sure it’s not corny. I tried outlining a fic one time but it was so frustrating LOLOLOL. Anyways, I love your ateez fics. They are so cute and creative!!

hi !!!! im like rlly touched u asked me and i feel u actually that's why i started this blog; im a biomedical engineering major so as u can imagine i dont get to take much creativity with what i write because writing papers and reports and proposals are so formulaic and u gotta stick to the facts so that being said i actually tested out of all my college writing classes so all my writing knowledge is from ap english in hs lmao so take it w many grians of salt

the #1 thing i do when im feeling sort of unmotivated about a story or maybe like like dragging myself thru mud to write it is to just write the "fun" part first. to me the fun part is usually the climax or maybe the like the "wouldn't it be cute if..." moment that came to mind that inspired me to write a blurb in the first place! then usually once i sort of get the ball rolling on that my brain will help me out and keep the momentum going by thinking of maybe "oohh okay maybe this can happen next" or "oohh and what if this led up to it" or !! just stop there !! something ive learned from my mx writing blog which is like a year older than this one was that you don't owe anybody context especially for a blurb so maybe it really is just 3 sentences of a cute moment u thought of like its whatever ur the one writing it

now for longer fics im going to be honest jongho's first love is my first and only completed attempt at a multi stage coherent story. and that was fueled purely based on the fact that when i look at jongho he just gives off sort a really excited sort of innocence that i wanted to further explore and personify through the idea of him experiencing love for the first time but even then i really struggled w the last part because that's where my personal experience stopped and i had basically nothing to go off of because ive never been in love so i did have to kinda wait for ideas to come to me. for prince yunho i have posted 4 chapters but have all the way through chapter 15 drafted. and by drafted i mean it's like 3 sentences of the overall idea. again, the fic was inspired by the duality between yunho's on stage vs. off stage persona where if somebody was to watch an ateez performance for the first time they may find him very serious and maybe even intimidating but atiny would know that his off stage persona (the one he choses to create for us anyways) is very silly and happy-go-lucky and approachable, which is why prince yunho is seen as narameth's strong and stoic pride and joy but in reality he's sort of clumsy but means well. so i let that and his relationship w xenia who is an original character (OC) sort inspire stories or interactions that i force into a plot line. so for example i believe when i first started thinking abt a prince au for yunho i thought "wouldn't it be funny if the first scene started out painting him as this strong and serious man and then cut to him choking on food or something" and that sort of inspired the idea of him being nervous abt the speech and then xenia came out of that because he needed a complementary character imo since i knew he was gonna be kind of one dimensional and then his backstory with xenia inspired other ideas and then one day i was sad and wanted a hug so that inspired a piece of the plot line and so on. so basically: let an idea or even an aspect of somebody come to you and just write it down, let it inspire other ideas. and don't be afriad to completely start over. i wrote a whole chapter for prince yunho and deleted the whole thing because i hated where it was going and started back from scratch. sometimes you have to revisit things abt your characters and their relationships with others to get a new idea. there's a story in every person and every relationship you just have to find the clues

here's an example of what i mean by "write the good part first". this is typically what the very first draft of a blurb will look like for me

((( blah blah blah basically its raining and y/n is sad bc wooyoung broke her heart two weeks ago idk maybe go into it maybe not)))

y/n is all sad and feeling sorry for themselves on the couch theyre past crying but still feel pretty shitty plus it's storming and cold outside. great

there's a knock on their door ofc they have the cliche "who could that be moment" even tho they lowkey know. we literally all know

so yeah wooyoung's there soaked in rain eyes puffy y/n thinks he's been crying

-this would be the "fun part". i'll fix all that garbage up top later or maybe even change it completely idk yet-

"y/n? i - uh. hi"

he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while you crossed your arms over your chest, fighting the urge to close the door and walk away for good

"hi? really wooyoung? is that the best you can do?"

(((wooyoung does smth idk)))

"well i just -"

"you just what? showed up here in the rain after you broke my heart and didn't even bother to tell me why? this isn't some romance movie, asshole. you can't just come here late at night and expect to find me all sad and willing to take you back because i'm not. so say what you're gonna say so i can get back to my life"

your face was red hot and you trying very hard, probably too hard, to fight back tears. ((( idk talk some more abt y/n's emotions then what wooyoung is doing)))

"look, i made a mistake i-"

"oh my god! why did i know you were gonna do this. i just knew as soon as i saw you-"

"will you let me get a fucking word in!?"

well that was new. in the entire time you'd known him he had never raised his voice at you like that, your shock causing you to immediately close your mouth and fold your arms back into yourself (((make y/n seem more scared))) noticing your reaction, he lowered his voice back down and instictively reached for you, heartbroken at the way you jerked away from his touch

"please y/n, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to raise my voice it's just that i need to tell you that i regret what i did i regret breaking up with you so fucking much and you don't have to take me back i just need you to know how much you meant, no, mean to me. i still love you, a lot. there's not a day, an hour, a minute, or a single second that goes by that i'm not thinking of you"

"then why?"

your voice was small and wavering, your tears now dangerously close to spilling down your cheeks

"why what?"

"why did you break up with me like that, just all of a sudden"

he pushed his hands into his pockets and looked away

"because that morning i woke up before you and when i looked at you asleep next to me, i saw myself spending the rest of my life with you and it scared the shit out of me"

"why did it scare you?"

"because i just figured you didn't feel the same. i was selfish and wanted to save myself heartbreak down the line and so i told you i didn't wanna be with you anymore, but that was a mistake because it turns out i can't function with out you, i can't breathe without you i can't live without you, y/n. i shouldn't have let you go"

tears were now freely flowing down your face (((okay brain no work anymore y/n kisses him duh and then ofc they make up wooyoung prob says smth cheesy and y/n is like ur lucky i love you or smth ahaha the end)))

tl;dr -> don't be afraid to get messy. creative writing is not nearly as structured as academic/scientific writing. write whatever u want first it can even be the middle of a huge fight scene or some dialogue u think is funny. if ur stuck read what you have or maybe just take a break and let an idea come to you. a story doesnt have to come together til the very end so it can be as messy and out of order as u want until u wanna post it. also i would always use the third person omniscient point of view for a longer story like a chaptered fic as a default and only change if it would impact the plot in a negative way. this is where the narrator knows what every character is thinking/feeling and im p sure a teacher in middle school told me it was the easiest to write and follow

#sorry i got carried away #also rmbr how i was like my brain cant stop imagining dramatic and disgusting love confessions in the rain? i meant like that #it's so chessy ik 😔 bleh #amanda talks

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dinoyoongi · 5 years

Text

Broken Bones & Salami Sandwiches

(I do not own image)

SYNOPSIS: When your excitement to watch Yoongi accept BTS’ first Grammy award takes a clumsy, painful turn.

PAIRING: Yoongi x Y/N

GENRE: Fluff

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2543

_______________________________

“And the Grammy goes to ...” the presenter takes an obnoxious pause, grinning at the camera like he's the funniest person in the world. You growl angrily, grabbing the closest item within reach which happens to be an open pack of salami and whipping it across the room. Your sister gawks, watching as the deli meat pops out of the packaging and flies through the air before falling like confetti.

“You are 100% cleaning that up. What a waste,” she grumbles, eying the slices scattered amongst your hardwood floors. You shush her urgently, waving your hand furiously in her direction. “Y/N, it's too early in the morning to be -”

“BTS! Congratulations!”

The screen shifts to a view of the group who are still sitting, shock and disbelief painting their faces. Hoseok is the first to hesitantly rise, grabbing Taehyung's arm to either pull him up or keep him grounded.

That's about as much as you see before hysteria completely possesses you.

You're on your feet, half sobbing, half screeching as you jump up and down. Through your tears and hops, you try to focus on the screen. The boys are on the stage now but they don't seem to be in any better condition than you with their red eyes and wet faces. The camera zooms in on Yoongi and you break again, resuming your hops.

At least you won't have to go to the gym tonight to work off the junk food.

“Stop screaming! Don't you want to listen to their acceptance speech? They're about to start talking!” your sister shouts at you from the couch. You pause, eyes glancing to the screen. Namjoon holds the microphone, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He opens his mouth to speak when the camera goes to a group shot. Yoongi stands next to Namjoon, the little golden gramophone in his hand.

You can't help it. You lose it again. You jump ecstatically across the room, only stopping for nanosecond cry breaks. Your boyfriend is a Grammy award winner. A two-time Grammy award winner, to be exact. BTS picked up the award for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance earlier in the show but just happened to nab the most prestigious award of the night – best album. It's something that you have heard Yoongi and the boys talk about countless times. Though they never dared to have any expectations, just wishful dreams.

“They did it! Oh my god, they did it!” you screech through your leaping. Your sister begins to nag about the possibility of the downstairs neighbors calling the police but you keep jumping. It feels like your body is too small to contain the amount of happiness that you currently have and the only way to release it is to keep jumping. It's a good plan until your heel lands on a stray piece of salami. You feel everything happen in slow motion. The meat slides across the floor, taking you along with it. Your torso falls backwards and in an awkward attempt to balance yourself, you plant your right leg behind you. Unfortunately, since your excited jumps were so high, you come down hard. Right on your leg.

Crack.

There's a fierce pain and the room is suddenly spinning. It feels like your body is too small to contain the amount of pain that you currently have and the only way to release it is to close your eyes. So you close your eyes.

____________________________________

You open your eyes to the sound of your ring tone blaring somewhere in the room. You are definitely not at home anymore. You're in an unfamiliar bed, your lower half elevated with your right leg being suspended in the air by some kind of strap. There's a decent amount of pain but it's tolerable and you suspect whatever medication has been put into the IV drip inserted into your wrist is doing its job.

The sound of your phone stops. “Hello? Yoongi?”

Yoongi. BTS. The Grammy s. The jumping. The salami. It all comes back to you.

“Y/N couldn't come to the phone because she's currently recovering from her surgery,” your sister says dramatically. You can hear Yoongi's surprised “what!” from where you're laying. Your sister snickers. “No, I'm really not joking. She fell and broke her leg in four different places. They had to do emergency surgery on it. Hey, congrats on the awards, by the way.”

With as much energy as you can muster with all the medication pumped into you, you reach out your arm to your sister, fingers wiggling for the phone. She turns her body away from you and you have never wanted to strangle her as much as you do right now.

“We were watching the awards and she totally lost her fucking mind when you guys won album of the year. She threw a pack of salami and then started jumping around and eventually slipped on some of said salami. She passed out on the spot and I had to call an ambulance. They made me turn our phones off when I came into the surgery ward.”

I whine loudly, still reaching for the phone. Your sister laughs. “She just came to but she's super groggy from the anesthesia and pain medicine. I'll let the doctor see her first and have her call you back when she can. It must be super late there – do you just want to call her tomorrow?”

“Alright, alright. I'm sure she'll be calling soon. Give my congrats to the boys and your team! Have fun!” she says before throwing your phone back into her bag. You slump in defeat, your arm falling off of the bed. Your sister rolls her eyes. “He has to do a few quick interviews anyway. You can call him after I page the doctor.”

She presses the big red call button on the side of your bed. “Broke your leg in four different places by slipping on a slice of salami that you tossed all over the place. Way to go, champ.”

Only a few minutes go by before both the doctor and a nurse come in to check on your leg. Whilst he explains how bad your break was and the treatments that you'll have to endure during the healing process, the nurse sets you up with a can of ginger ale and a few graham crackers to help ease the grogginess. After he finishes his spiel and you finish your snack, you feel refreshed despite the throbbing pain in your leg.

“You've been with me all morning. Why don't you go out and get yourself some lunch or something?” you suggest politely to your sister, flashing her a blinding smile. She scoffs. After 25 years with you, she's able to see right through you.

“I got some snacks from the vending machine earlier. I'm fine.”

Your smile drops. “Well that can't be very healthy. What would Mom say? She'd be upset if you didn't eat a proper-”

“It was Mom's idea. She didn't want me to leave you during surgery. She's coming this way with dinner later so I don't want to fill up now.”

“Oh my god, just get out!” you screech, your patience snapping. Your sister smirks and drops your phone into your lap, heading towards the door. She turns back to say something before she leaves but you whip your arm back as if you're going to throw your phone and she laughs, closing the door behind her. Your fingers fumble to find Yoongi's name in your contacts. It only rings twice.

“Y/N ! What the hell! You fell while jumping?” Yoongi scolds as soon as he answers the phone. You exhale in satisfaction when you hear his voice. “Sometimes I think you forget how old you are.”

“Yoongi,” you interrupt, voice breaking. You sniffle as the tears begin to pool. “I'm so proud of you.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Jagiya, stop being cute when I'm trying to be stern with you. How are you? Are you in a lot of pain?”

“It does hurt quite a bit but I'm handling it okay. How are you? Is it overwhelming?

“A little,” he confesses. “I haven't had time to process it yet. We were taken off stage and immediately thrown into interviews and photo sessions. It doesn't seem real even though I'm staring at the awards right now.”

“I can't wait to touch them,” you say, eliciting a burst of laughter from your boyfriend. “You have to let me touch at least one of them before Big Hit takes them away for display. It's the least you can do for causing my injury.”

“Wait a minute. It's my fault that your leg is broken? How so?” he asks in mock outrage. You can't stop yourself from giggling like a teenager. Yoongi does that to you.

“I was jumping because I was so happy for you. If you had lost, I wouldn't have jumped and slipped on the salami. So in conclusion, this is all your fault.”

“Okay we can discuss the ridiculousness of your logic later. But first, I have some questions about how salami got involved.”

___________________________

“Can you grab me a sparkling water?” You call out to your sister as you lounge on the couch, foot propped up on about six different cushions. “And bring me a bag of chips as well!”

Your sister places the carbonated beverage on the coffee table in front of you but throws the bag of chips at your face. “You break your own leg and I'm being punished by waiting on you hand and foot. Life is unfair.”

“Stop being a drama queen,” you grumble. It's been three days since the accident. You only stayed at the hospital for two nights but the massive boot that they've installed engulfs your entire calf and completely limits your mobility. You've taken to sleeping on the couch because your bedroom is too far away from everything else in the apartment but your poor sister really has had to literally carry you through your day. “I only have to wear this boot for a week. They'll switch me to a slimmer one at the next appointment.”

“You're lucky that your Grammy award winning boyfriend is out of the country. I would totally make him do everything.”

“Two-Time Grammy award winning boyfriend,” you correct her. She glares at you, exhausted with hearing that phrase from you for what feels like the millionth time. You grin obnoxiously in response. She opens her mouth to argue when the chime of the doorbell rings out and she turns to press the camera view of the door.

“Is it Mom?” you ask, craning your neck from where you lay to see the screen. You can't make anything out though. “If it's Mom, I'm going to pretend I'm napping. Yesterday she spent nearly forty-five minutes badly explaining the plot of Descendants of the Sun to me even though I told her ten times that I've already watched it.”

Your sister snickers, her eyes on the screen. “Yeah, it's Mom. I've buzzed her in so you better hurry and get all bundled up.”

You take her advice, throwing the blanket over the length of your body and tucking it up under your chin. You shift so you're facing the cushion of the couch. You even out your breathing to look convincing, listening as the front door opens and closes.

The voice that fills the apartment definitely does not belong to your mother. “Where is she?”

Like always, your heart skips for a moment before it takes off into a gallop. Yoongi never fails to fluster you, no matter how long you've been dating or how often you see him. Your head pops up from the pillow and you scramble with your arms to push off the blanket. In the scuffle, you've somehow tangled yourself and the next thing you know, you're on the floor. You cry out in pain when your bad leg knocks against the coffee table.

Your sister laughs. “Oh, look at that. I suddenly have plans. She's all yours. Good luck.”

“I'm changing the pass code on you! Better find somewhere else to live!” you scream from the floor. Your sister is still cackling when she reaches out to pull the door close after her. “I'm keeping your clothes too!”

Yoongi hurries to the couch, gaping when he sees you sprawled on the floor. He rushes to you, lightly reaching under your arms and lifting you back onto the couch. He winces when his eyes fall on the giant boot. “Wow, you really broke it. Look at that thing. I bet it's uncomfortable.”

You ignore his concern and grab his face with both hands, grinning like a lovesick idiot. “You're really here. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

He softens under your touch, sigh turning into a gentle smile, pulling your hands from his cheeks but keeping them in his grip. “The point of a surprise is … you know .. a surprise. Surprise!”

You're giggling again. “Do you have to go back soon or can I keep you?”

He shakes his head. “We're all majorly jet-lagged so we have the afternoon off. I had them drop me here from the airport. I'm all yours for the next sixteen hours.”

“Well you're in luck,” you say, scooting back against the couch with your good leg. You pat the space next to you. “The only thing I'm really capable of right now is laying down so I will be your nap buddy. Come here.”

He frowns. “I didn't come here to sleep. I haven't seen you in weeks. I'm here to spend time with you before anniversary promotions begin.”

“Yoongi, you have bags the size of Australian spiders under your eyes. You've worked so hard and deserve a good sleep. Now get over here before you make me get up with my bum leg and drag you myself.”

He laughs in resignation, shimmying out of his sweater before plopping down. He stops himself before he's fully stretched out next to you.

“Wait,” he says, turning his body to face you. Leaning down, he surprises you when he pushes his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. Well … at least it started sweet. Most of the time, the two of you really struggle with keeping things PG and you wouldn't have it any other way. After a few minutes of making out, he pulls away breathlessly, giving you his best gummy smile. “Okay, got that out of my system.”

You giggle for the millionth time in the five minutes that he's been here, sighing in content when he relaxes his body against yours. His arm reaches around you and tugs you closer to him. Within seconds, you feel your eyes get heavy.

“Yoongi,” you mumble sleepily. He hums in response. “When we wake up, will you make me a sandwich? My sister is an awful cook and she's been starving me.”

His body shakes with laughter underneath you. “Yes, I'll make all the sandwiches you want. But I have some conditions.”

“Conditions?” you ask curiously, tipping your chin to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He grins down at you.

“No salami.”

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