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redgoldsparks · 26 days

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March Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 4 by Ryoko Kui

I'm reading these books so fast I can barely remember which parts of the plot happened in which volume but know that I am still having a great time!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 5 by Ryoko Kui

Oh, this story has taken a darker turn, and also just introduced a whole bunch more characters. Will I be able to keep track of them all? I hope so!

Dragon Keeper by Robin Hobb, read by Anne Flosnik

Unfortunately, this is definitely the weakest Robin Hobb book I've read so far. I was expecting to like it less than the glorious, 5-star previous trilogy, but I actually think I'm going to skip the rest of the Rain Wild Chronicles and read summaries online to get to the next Fitz books. This book follows five main POV characters. This works fairly well for the first half, when the characters are all in different physical locations. However once all of the characters meet up, we start getting the same scene from multiple different POVs, which feels extremely repetitive. Also, almost EVERY SCENE includes a flashback, often a lengthy flashback, sometimes to something that happened only the previous day and could have been told as present-moment action. This writing choice baffled me. It's something I can't remember struggling with in any of Hobb's previous books, but by the end it was driving me up a wall. The book also moved very slowly; the stakes feel lower, and the character far less emotionally true than in the two Fitz trilogies. Disappointing, but I will keep moving forward towards the next part of the series I want to read.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 6 by Ryoko Kui

Damn, a lot of characters get murdered in this volume! Good thing almost everyone who dies in the dungeon can be revived. Also, very excited to finally meet the cat ninja I've been seeing fan art of since before I even started the series :3

Delicious in Dungeon vol 7 by Ryoko Kui

I am still completely caught up in this series. I love the glimpse of Senshi's past revealed in this volume, and the lore of the dungeon that is still being revealed. There was a line in here about how the dungeon leaves you alone if you don't ask much of it, but that if you have strong desires it throws even more obstacles into your way. Our heroes have such big goals right now, but they're marching ahead regardless!

School Trip by Jerry Craft

A satisfying new installment in the New Kid series from funny, talented, charming Jerry Craft! I appreciated how this volume started to complicate some of the students who had been left a bit one-dimensional in previous books. Several people stood up to and called out a bully; new friendships were built; and Jordan Banks left Paris even more inspired than ever to follow his dreams of becoming an artist. This series has a lot of jokes, but also a lot of heart!

A Frog in Fall (and Later On) by Linnea Sterte

Minor frog is less than a year old, and is dismayed when winter begins to steal all of the light and warmth from his world. Instead of bunking down safely with his mentor to wait for spring, he sets out on a journey with two vagabond toads passing by on a quest to make it all the way to the tropics. They tramp through the Japanese countryside, encountering tree spirits, new friends, dangers, and views the likes of which minor frog had never even imagined. This is a gorgeous book; every page worth pouring over, an economy of line and detail building a beautiful and mysterious world of talking animals and miniature packaged foods. Made me want to draw.

Dark Rise by CS Pacat read by Christian Coulson

In 1820s London, orphaned Will tries to earn enough as a dockworker to survive- and evade the killers pursuing him. Violet dresses in her half-brother's clothes and sneaks onto a ship in the Thames to watch a man be branded with his master's mark. Katherine excitedly anticipates her engagement to one of London's richest and most mysterious lords; his gallantry nearly makes up for the fact that he's twice her age. And in the bowels of one of that lord's ships, James tortures a man for information. All of these characters are 16 or 17 years old, but all of them are tangled in an ancient conflict between the Light and the Dark which stretches back into an age of magic before history. This is CS Pacat's YA fantasy debut, and it contains a lot of tropes very familiar to both YA and high fantasy- there are shades of both Tolkien and Rowling in this. Its fast-paced and action-packed, but especially in the first third of the story, the characters all felt fairly thin. None of them have quirks, hobbies, career hopes, relationships outside of immediate family, school, or work; or much more than a brief sketch of past. It took until the mid-way point for what I consider Pacat's major strengths as a writer to emerge: intense, homoerotic interpersonal sparring between characters operating under major power imbalances. Every scene in which the seductive, manipulative, powerful evil gay faced off against the good boy chosen one crackled with energy. Unfortunately, there were only four of these scenes in the whole book. It ends on a cliff-hanger, because of course it does, with a tempting set up for book two; but that doesn't entirely excuse the fact that the first 50% felt like set up. I will definitely keep reading, but long-time Pacat fans should take note that this is toned down version of what I expected based on Captive Prince.

Feeding Ghosts by Tessa Hulls (re-read before event)

What an accomplishment! I savored every page of Feeding Ghosts, absolutely floored by the labor and courage that went into the writing of this book. The inking is gorgeous, the history is clear, digestible, and devastating. This book threads the line between honesty and compassion in a way that I appreciate so much in any memoir, but especially one dealing with family. Hulls lays out the story of three generations of women starting with her grandmother, Sun Yi, a Shanghai journalist who faced intense persecution during the rise of Communism in China, who penned a popular and scandalous memoir and then suffered a mental breakdown. This left her only daughter, Rose, a student at an elite boarding school with no parental figures and no other family to lean on. Eventually Rose earned a scholarship to an American university and in the end moved her mother into her California home. Sun Yi haunted that home during the author's own childhood. The unexamined trauma and codependency of Sun Yi and Rose drove the author to the extreme edges of the Earth, seeking freedom from their ghosts. But in the end, she stopped running from her family history and turned, instead, to face it. Shelve this book with Maus, Fun Home, Persepolis and The Best We Could Do. Re-read it for a second time and got even more out of it on a second pass.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 8 by Ryoko Kui

Laios and company realize that their encounter with changling mushroom rings had more consequences than they'd realized- its the body swap episode! This visual humor is contrasted against increasing dangers from both above and below, as nastier monsters and political machinations begin to close in on our heroic adventuring party. I'm now over halfway through this series and almost feel like I should start reading it more slowly to savor it, but I'll probably just keep devouring it instead.

Lunar New Year Love Story by Gene Luen Yang and Leuyen Pham

High school senior Val grew up knowing her family was unlucky in love; for generations, relationships in her family have ended in heartbreak. Her childhood love of Valentines Day ends with a shocking family revelation and what feels like the beginning of a curse. Then her Vietnamese grandmother sweeps her off to a Lunar New Year celebration in downtown Oakland and a pair of cute lion dancer boys catch her eye. Could one of them break the spell on her heart? This story offers a classic and satisfying rom-com, with Val torn between an outgoing, rich, but flaky boy and a broody, shy, loyal one. The story takes several kdrama style twists and includes ghosts, saints, red envelopes, confessions, fights, reunions, tears, and kisses. For a comic, its wordy; the pages are dense with small panels and thick with dialogue, but also illustrated with such warm, humor, and realism. I really liked that the story included as much of Val's relationship with her family and best friend as romance. And the lion dancing scenes practically leap off the page with color and energy!

Witch Hat Atelier vol 10 by Kamome Shirahama

This series remains as visually stunning as ever but I'm struggling with how every single book expands the cast. There are so many characters now that I don't care about that much, and have trouble remembering from volume to volume. I wish the story line would stick more closely to Coco, her classmates, and their main mentors!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 9 by Ryoko Kui

Oh the stories are all converging! The savior at the bottom of the dungeon is probably a demon! Ituzumi saves the day! I am still having a great time reading this series.

A Dowry of Blood by ST Gibson read by Abby Craden

A short, very queer, very poly retelling of Dracula focusing on his coven of enthralled lovers. I liked the way the book breezed through history, as the dysfunctional little family moved from one major European city to the next, with snatched moments of glittering joy interwoven with violence and plague. The story is fairly simple, and has a happier ending than I expected, or honestly think the characters deserved.

City of Dragons by Robin Hobb

I DNFed the previous book in this series and just read a summary online before skipping ahead to this one. I think that was a very good choice for me. This third one was more engaging and a bit more action packed, with some cool discoveries about the city of Kelsingra and the nature of Elderlings. But the Rain Wild Chronicles as a whole do not stand up to the quality of the Farseer books. There are so many POV characters that a few of them get only two or three scenes in this whole book. I don't feel that I deeply know any of these characters; while at the same time watching Hobb pair them off at an extraordinary rate- in the last book five sets of characters got together and in this book an additional two couples are developing feelings for each other. Between this and a kidnapping, a birth, a murder, and a lot of blackmail, this series feels like a soap opera.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 10 by Ryoko Kui

Almost two TPKs in this volume, yikes!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 11 by Ryoko Kui

You know shit's getting serious when the character who has been the series main villain up until now is partially devoured by a different, worse villain. Exciting changes coming to this dungeon under it's new lord and master!

Squad by Maggie Tokuda-Hall and Lisa Sterle

When Becca gets invited to sit with the popular girl clique at her new high school, she's thrilled. But the friendship turns bloody and complicated when she learns that her new friends are actually werewolves who need to kill and feed on a human once a month. If she joins them, Becca will gain superhuman strength and a pack; she'll never have to fear a male predator again, because she will be a predator herself. I loved the queer rep and the twist on werewolf lore; I wish it had been a little longer and more developed. Give me multi-page transformations sequences!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 12 by Ryoko Kui

I love seeing all these plot lines come together! Building towards a wild climax.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 13 by Ryoko Kui

I went out and *bought* vol 13 of this series because my library didn't have it yet, that's how hooked I am. And now I have to wait until JULY for the final volume! (But also, thank goodness I didn't get into this series any sooner or I'd have a much longer wait).

#book reviews #books #reading #comics #manga

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pedgito · 1 year

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oh man i love that modern au with bestfriend!eddie but i need more re: his best dickpic ever! like how much heat is he packing in said dickpic? and what makes it so good? angle? lighting? is the dick in question perhaps adorned with a festive lil hat? more plz!

author’s note: a part two to this, doesn’t have to be read as a pair but you can if you want! i crack myself up every time i write stuff like this because it’s so eddie.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) lots of dick talk, modern!eddie, mentions of drunk sex, bestfriend!eddie, platonic soulmates (small mention to them being like siblings metaphorically) if i missed anything lmk.

word count: 1k

“I swear I’m not judging or anything, but like,” Eddie peers up at you from where his head is resting in your lap, body stretched out along the rest of the bed as the movie played on amidst his sudden need for conversation, “why don’t you stop using the apps if it keeps happening?”

“Do you hear yourself, Eddie?” You ask, eyes narrowing at him from above, your own hair curtaining his face as you glance down. “I have to stop because it’s me being assaulted with dick pics, not the other way around—you are…such a guy that it pains me to even think about.”

And it’s a bigger shot to his ego than he’s expecting, gasping dramatically through his very obviously hurt gaze.

“I need better content,” You tell him, “and considering this standing relationship I have with your dick, I’d really appreciate it if you'd step up your game.”

“Okay, that really hurts.” Eddie says dejectedly, “My dick is pretty, you can’t deny that.”

You shrug, “It’s up there, but I’ve seen several—it could easily get lost in the bunch.”

“See this,” Eddie flicks between you and him, “is why we’d never work.”

“Say that to two weeks ago when you crawled into my bed drunk and naked,” You retort, forcing Eddie to relive that embarrassing memory, “seemed to work pretty well then.”

“We were both drunk,” Eddie states as a matter of fact, “and if I remember correctly, you were just as eager.”

It was a small blip in your friendship and nothing that could ruin it, neither of you remembered much anyways—but it was definitely enjoyable.

“We gotta get festive, it’s the holidays,” You tell him, “spruce the pics up a bit, it’s getting boring.”

“I told you that you couldn’t use this stuff as blackmail.” Eddie tells you vehemently, “So whatever is going on in that head of yours, it stays between us.”

“Eddie, I love you,” You tell him seriously, “I would never do that to you—but as my best friend, you’re sorta obligated.”

Eddie snorts, shoving your amused smile out of view with his fingers as they push at your cheek, forcing you away so he could sit up fully, movie forgotten.

“Hit me with it.” Eddie says, your smile growing wider.

If only he knew.

“I feel like there’s a kink for this somewhere on the internet.” Eddie notes, holding up the small Christmas hat between his fingers—the perfect size for, well, his dick.

You snickered evilly, “Don’t forget these,” You mentioned, holding up the battery powered Christmas light necklace, “—oh shit, I almost forgot.”

Eddie reers back slightly, eyeing you carefully as you dipped into the bag on your bed.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Eddie says sternly, noting the fluffy reindeer ears and red nose squeezed in your palm, holding his hands up defensively as you approached, “not just no—but fuck no, sweetheart.”

“You’re no fun.” You pout, tossing the items on the bed.

“Tell me the deal again?” Eddie asks, gathering the items in his hand, phone clutched to his chest in the other.

“Dinner on me for a week and I’ll do the dishes,” You tell him, “don’t try to meddle your way into more.”

Eddie smirks fondly, “Had me at dinner, babe.”

Eddie disappears briefly to his own room—to, as he would say, take care of business. You’re not sure what he does, keeping your mind from straying too far. After the drunk escapades a couple weeks prior, there was always something there—nothing serious or tangible, but it was blatantly obvious that you found each other attractive.

It was a shame that you two butt heads like siblings and hate each other in every other sense of the idea of an actual relationship.

Eddie leaves his room about twenty minutes later looking a little more flush in the face, shirtless and his sweats hanging low on his waist. You laughed through your nose, sizing him up. He attempts to hand the decoration back to you.

“Burn it,” You grimace, “you know I only needed pics, right?”

Eddie’s still surprised at how easily you can read him.

“I was trying to sweeten the pot a little,” He shrugs, “got you a video, free of charge.”

“Oh, you spoil me.” You tell him with a forced smile, glancing at your phone as it dinged a few times.

“Quality over quantity, sweetheart.” He grins darkly, nodding toward your phone. “That should keep the creeps at bay.”

It’s terrible how well you’d memorized his dick, smiling with amusement as you scrolled through the pictures after he’d finally left you alone. As annoying as Eddie could be, he was an expert at angles, lighting, the whole thing—they were tasteful, but so outrageous that they would surely scare off the desperate men in your messages.

“Thoughts?” He asks, peeking around the frame of your bedroom door when he hears you giggling to yourself.

“I’m not giving you another ego boost.” You tell him, a grin spreading over his face.

“You don’t have to,” Eddie says confidently, “I can see it on your face.” Because despite how well you knew Eddie, he knew you even better.

Now, if only he had the same luck with people as you—not that he was asking for any unsolicited dick pics but his luck with dating had been nothing short of abysmal.

“I’ll send the cute ones your way,” You smile warmly, “long as they’re willing.”

Eddie presses his hand over his heart tenderly, crossing the small distance to your bed to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, mumbling a soft, “Love you.”

Not that you needed to hear it, you already knew.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanons #my writing

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year

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Butterflies 🦋✨

Summary; Jason spends more time ignoring you and flirting with other girls than actually being your boyfriend.

Eddie knows he would cherish you like a princess, and as you two grow closer he has no qualms about stepping on Jason's toes to show you that.

Warnings; Fluff, minimal angst, 18+ MDNI

Likes, reblogs are always appreciated ❤️

I don't give anybody permission to copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

For a few weeks now you had been meeting Eddie at his spot in the woods. The first time it happened is because Jason had asked you to get some weed for, giving you the money but refusing to go to Eddie himself.

"You think I would go around talking to that freak?" this made you roll your eyes, yes Jason was your boyfriend but you couldn't stand how judgemental he could be of people who showed even slightly different interests than him.

The two of you had been dating for four months and you were becoming increasingly aware very fast that he wasn't your prince charming... Kiss a few frogs, find a prince so the saying goes.

Maybe that would happen one day you had told yourself.

Eddie is waiting for you, a wide grin spreads across his features and you bound up to him happily, he holds out flowers for you, freshly picked and you beam.

Honestly, you can't remember the last time he bought you flowers. Eddie was always bringing you pretty flowers he found.

"Hi, sorry I'm late, cheer practice ran over, these are beautiful thank you Eddie" he waves of your apology.

"It's fine Princess. Don't worry about it and I was glad to do it, see that pretty smile" you settle down, hiding how pleased that made you and begin to discuss your day.

Eddie tells you about his plans for Hellfire, you tell him about Cheer practice and he's always so guienely interested like you are about Hellfire.

Maybe one day he can show you how to play you suggested last week and he seemed delighted at that.

The thing was you could talk to Eddie about anything and vice versa, he never judged, always listened and never belittled you in any way, you loved being with him.

He made you feel safe, listened to and gave you butterflies every time he smiled at you. Those fucking dimples.

It's just you wish you didn't have to hide your friendship so much.

"It's nice being here with you Eddie, I can understand why you wouldn't want to hang out with your friends though. They don't even know I exist right? Well, I mean they do obviously but not that we hang out" you murmur.

He softens.

"Hey, you think I'm ashamed of you or something? Are you kidding me? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, uncle Wayne, Hellfire and you. I could never be ashamed of you princess"

"I could never be ashamed of you either" you assure him and take his hand in yours.

He swallows "Yeah, we all know what this town thinks of me" you scowl.

"They don't know anything. They don't know how amazing you are Eddie" his breath hitches, your heart skips several beats as he squeezes your hand.

"I know this might be out of line sweetheart, you can tell me if it is but shit, you deserve way better than that butthead Jason"

He's leaning close to you and smiles somewhat shyly.

"I kinda like having something that's mine sweetheart, that is just mine, he hurriedly speaks up, you know us being friends and all"

Oh boy...

I am yours. That's what's you want to say and you mean it because deep down, you aren't happy with Jason at all. He doesn't make you happy but Eddie does.

"You should be with someone who treats you like a princess. Not who treats you like you're dispensable because you're not. You're totally metal sweetheart"

His sweet compliments make you feel all fuzzy and happy. Eddie always made you happy.

Jason treated you either like garbage or some trophy girlfriend and you deserved better than that.

You know what you have to do...Break up with Jason. It's been a long time coming and it would happen whether you were falling for Eddie or not.

It was time.

❤️

Eddie can't stop staring at you, he knows he's in love with you. Big time, and it's exhilarating, terrifying and fucking amazing, he never thought he would fall in love.

Honestly, hookups at dive bars or at metal concerts were as far as he got.

"Dude, are you even listening to me?" Gareth asks him and he smiles as he sees you laugh with Chrissy, Chrissy who upon seeing him stare at you whispers in your ear with a beaming smile on her face and you turn to meet his gaze, looking down shyly as you head outside.

Butterflies, he felt butterflies when you looked his way or smiled at him like that.

He's on his way to Hellfire, you to Cheer practice and he wishes he could speak to you for a little bit but it will have to wait for later.

"Are my eyes deceiving me freak or are you making eyes at my girl?" Jason walks up with the rest of his douchebag squad.

"Your girl? You're full of shit Carver, like you don't fuck around on her when she isn't around, she deserves better than you" Jason pales but catches himself quickly beginning to laugh.

"Like who? You? Don't make me laugh Munson, you're way out of her league and you know it. She doesn't even know you exist"

Jeff and Gareth tug at his arms as he moves closer to Jason.

"Yeah? You don't know anything asshole, I'd treat her like a queen" Jason's smirk disappears.

"What are you in love with her or something?" Eddie doesn't back down from his stare.

"You are aren't you?" Jason sneers and Eddie's fist tightens, he would like nothing more than to punch Jason in his stupid mouth.

"Let me be clear. I haven't gave a fuck about stepping on your toes to show her how she should be treated" Jason backs off, he knows that Eddie isn't fucking around.

"She'd never go for you loser" Jason spits out but one of the basketball players pull him away.

"Come on man, he's a lying asshole"

"Eddie come on dude" he hears Dustin call out to him and he heads to Hellfire still fuming but determined to follow up on what he said to Jason.

❤️❤️✨❤️

Jason gapes as you repeat what you said.

"You want to break up with me? Are you fucking kidding me? I made you, you selfish bitch" Oh please you roll your eyes.

"You made me? Get over yourself. I'm a person not some object. For four months you've gradually treated me more and more like shit and I'm sick of it"

Disbelief colours Jason's features.

"First that freak Munson being in love with you and now this shit. Unbelievable"

It's like time stands still, you barely hear what Jason has to say something along the lines of "no I'm dumping you for Casey Stevens", you couldn't care less.

"Are you even listening to me? I'm dumping you!" he snaps and you nod as you make your way over to where Hellfire is playing barely paying attention to what Jason is yelling at you.

There's cheers as you get to the drama room so that must mean that the campaign has went down well, just like you assured Eddie it would.

He's deep in his DM mode so you wait patiently, watching him enraptured.

Dustin spots you and gestures to Eddie who pauses his eyes lighting up.

"It's okay, finish up and I'll wait here" he winks at you and it sends little shivers of delight all over your body, watching him in his element, doing differing voices as he concludes tonights campaign is so sexy.

He's so sexy and kind, beautiful inside and out and you are anxious to know if what Jason said was true.

When he is finished you head over to him, focus solely on him and not the curious stares you're getting.

"Hey Princess"

"Hi, Jason told me something. We were breaking up at the time so I don't know if he was just messing around, I hope he wasn't"

Eddie tilts his head and there's a knowing look on his gaze.

"What did he say?" well, here goes nothing.

"He told me you're in love with me. Is that true?" he cups your cheek and you lean into his touch.

"Would have preferred to tell you myself sweetheart but yeah, I'm in love with you, hopelessly in love. I'd never hurt you or cheat on you like that dickhead did"

Within seconds you're kissing him and he's kissing you back, you grin.

"I love you too" Eddie briefly lifts you off your feet as he kisses you happily.

"Uh? What the fuck is going on?" Gareth asks and you and Eddie look at each other with identical grins.

"Better sit down dude, this is a long story"

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson imagine

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happyandticklish · 9 months

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Exposure Therapy

Notes: Commission for an anonymous doner~ I haven’t had an opportunity to write for these dorks before, so I appreciate you giving me one! The fic itself is set several years in the future, so they’re both around sixteen in this for clarity’s sake. Hope you all enjoy! ^^

Summary: Stan’s crush on Kyle ends up having unforeseen side effects in the form of a sudden and rapid obsession with tickling his best friend.

He wasn’t quite sure when it had become a problem, only that it had and that he needed to cut it out soon before he ended a nearly decade long friendship over this new weird obsession of his.

Kyle was ticklish. Obviously, Stan had known about this before. It was difficult not to notice it, in fact, as Cartman had made it his goal to antagonize the other with it for years of their childhood after he had found out. Back then it had just been another facet of Kyle’s being, nothing to pay too much mind to. It was just a piece of knowledge in the back of his brain.

Kyle was ticklish.

Then, they had gotten older and things had changed and that simple friendship had changed into what was most likely a very one-sided, and very repressed, crush. Stan wasn’t sure that anyone ever meant to fall for their best friend, but he really hadn’t. He hadn’t really become aware that that was what was happening until the two were partnered up in gym one day and Kyle had casually lifted up his shirt to wipe some sweat off of his forehead. It was a small amount of skin, skin that he had seen a thousand times before, skin that should not have made his heart skip a beat. So, from then on, he had worked as hard as he could to shove down the weird butterfly conservatory that had set up tent inside his stomach and force himself to be Stan Marsh, normal boy and best friend of Kyle.

For nearly a year, with the exceptions of a few minor hiccups, things went great inside that department. Or they did, all the way until Stan jokingly poked Kyle in the side one day and he flinched. And smiled. And nearly laughed.

And suddenly, the butterflies were inconsolable.

He told himself it meant nothing. He told himself it meant nothing when a week later he ‘accidentally’ squeezed Kyle’s knee a little too hard when he stood up. He told himself it meant nothing when friendly jostling kept turning into squeezes and pokes that had Kyle giggling out frantic protests. He told himself it meant nothing when Kyle would smile and Stan’s fingers would flex on the bed in a helpless reflex.

He told himself it meant nothing when Kyle seemed to somehow get tickled almost every time the two of them met up.

He was still telling himself it meant nothing when he went over to Kyle’s house that afternoon to read comics instead of doing the homework they had told their parents about.

“Oh. You’re early.”

Kyle was at the door, hair messy from sleep and eyes squinted slightly like they always did when he first woke up. Stan glanced down at him—he loved that he had to look down now, even if it annoyed Kyle to no end—and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Mom kicked me out for the day, so I figured I’d just head over here early. Are you just waking up? You do know it’s 1pm, right?”

“You should be glad I’m even awake right now. I refuse to be up early in the summer if there are not life-threatening consequences at stake.”

“I count as a life-threatening consequence?”

“Close enough.”

Kyle grinned and the sight was enough to make Stan squeeze the strap of his backpack. He pushed quickly into the house before Kyle could notice his effect on the other. “So, I stopped down at Main St. on the way over to grab some of the newer editions that just dropped. Admittedly, most of them are just reprints, but there’s a couple new titles.”

“What’s the point of getting the reprints if we already have them?”

“Well, the cover art is new, and I’ve heard there’s bonus epilogues at the ends of some of them.”

“Oh, well, if it’s bonus epilogues, I guess I see your point. I rescind my earlier doubt and furthermore will trust in the future excitement of this endeavor.”

Stan frowned. Kyle’s sarcastic attitude had been a staple of his character since he was a kid, but going through puberty had seemed to amplify it somehow. Which was fine if a bit annoying along with his ever-constant cynicism, but Stan could never help feeling slightly offended when it was directed towards himself.

Kyle must have noticed the expression on his face, because he softened a little and nudged past Stan with a smile. “Well, don’t just stand there, let’s look over them. Might as well after you spent so much money on them instead of saving for that car your mom’s always ranting about.”

The subject of the car had quickly become a new factor in Stan’s life, an addition he was less than thrilled about. It made him far too aware that he was sixteen and therefore two years away from college and therefore six years away from the rest of his life.

Stan rolled his eyes but followed the other, trying not to think about being alone in a room with his best friend—trying to keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets where they needed to stay for the afternoon.

Kyle’s room had evolved over the many years Stan had known him. Hungrily collected figurines and a variety of scattered textbooks became replaced by movie posters and memorabilia that in turn got replaced by band photos and useless knickknacks hidden precariously throughout the room. To call it clean would be lying, but it wasn’t messy in the typical high school boy way that Stan’s was. It was almost like there was too much of Kyle to fit into the small space and as such his room was bursting at the seams. Journals were laid open on desks, half-empty water bottles were shoved into various crevices, and amongst the Rubik’s Cubes and comics was a detailed runic sword in the corner from when he had first delved into LARP-ing.

Not to mention, Kyle’s presence lingered so heavily in the room that it was nearly overwhelming at times. Stan sat carefully down on the bed as they delved into the various comic books, reminding himself that friends don’t get weird about being in other friend’s rooms for a simple hangout. Kyle was still in his pajamas too and his movements were heavy from exhaustion as he flopped down on the bed next to Stan. He seemed perfectly relaxed. Stan desperately wished he could share in that sentiment.

For the first hour or so, things seemed fine. The reprints were as uninteresting as suspected, but Kyle made up for it by dramatically reading along to the sections they had practically memorized by that point. Stan made fun of him at first but after a while it was hard to resist joining in. The two switched out parts as they went, but Kyle grew impatient and kept skipping ahead and leaving Stan out entirely.

Which, of course, obviously had to be retaliated.

Kyle’s words stumbled into a yelp when a finger jabbed into his side, his smug grin scrambling into something more helpless. The way he was laying made it difficult to bring his arms down, so he settled on swatting uselessly at Stan’s arm with huffed protests.

“Stan, c-cut it out!”

“Stop interrupting me and I’ll consider it.”

Kyle managed to roll over on his side, curling away from Stan and effectively blocking the tickling for a moment. Stan’s hands were drawn back already in retreat, even though everything in him longed to tease the strip of skin that had been revealed after Kyle’s shirt had rucked up. Kyle grumbled, his elbow darting in to rub away the leftover sensation. “Why is it always tickling with you nowadays?”

It was an innocent enough question and perfectly reasonable at that. Still, Stan’s heart kicked into high gear at the mention of his newest obsession. He scoffed, ignoring the red quickly covering his face. “It’s not my fault you’re so ticklish, I wasn’t even trying to that time. Besides, what’s so bad about it anyway?”

An incredulous noise came from Kyle’s curled form. “Besides everything?”

“Kyle.”

“I don’t know. It’s annoying. And… weird. I just feel so helpless, y’know? I hate that I’m so susceptible to it, especially since you apparently grew out of it since we were ten.”

Stan had not, in fact, grown out of it, but he had gotten better at resisting it. Not that he decided to mention that now. He grabbed Kyle’s side gently and rolled him back over, making sure to keep his hand flat and entirely untickly despite the familiar impulse rearing its ugly head. Stan’s insistent eyes bored into Kyle’s reluctant ones until his look of annoyance became flush with a nervous awkwardness.

“What? What’s that look for?”

“What if you let me tickle you?”

The words seemed to fly out in a breathless rush as Stan said them, and the way Kyle’s eyebrows shot up at the inquiry made him want to shove them right back in his mouth. Instead, he pushed forward before Kyle could disown him as a friend forever. “You said you hate that it makes you feel helpless. What if I tickled you, gently, to show you that I’ll stop whenever you ask me to.”

Kyle’s eyes darted down to the hand on his hip and back up. “And why would I do that?”

Stan shrugged. “Exposure therapy? Resistance training? A way to pass the time?”

Seconds ticked by in agonizing silence as Stan felt the very foundations of their friendship crumble under him. Any second now, Kyle would realize that no normal best friend of over five years would ask their other best friend of over five years if they could tickle them which would of course lead to the realization that something else was at play here. Following that, Kyle would shove him off in disgust, demand that he leave his house, and force Stan to kick himself for months after for making such a stupid mistake.

And then…

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. But only for five minutes.”

“Ten.”

“What? No way!”

“You can’t gain any benefits from exposure therapy in five minutes!”

Kyle sized up him up, but evidently decided that he didn’t know enough about the subject to counter the point. “Fine. But only ten, and you have to stop if I ask you to.”

Stan’s grin was blinding as he agreed. “Deal.”

Several beats of awkward rearrangement later, Kyle found himself splayed out on the bed with his arms stationed hesitantly over his head. At some point he had shifted and his shirt had ridden up, a situation Kyle had not yet rectified. Probably because it would be an inconvenience. Possibly because he wanted Stan to take advantage of that. Realistically because he hadn’t noticed.

The slip of skin held Stan’s attention as he settled in next to Kyle, trying to disguise his excitement as determination. “Alright, so the only rules are that you can’t physically stop me and that you have to at least try to withstand it. It’s cheating if you just give in right away.”

Kyle rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yeah, sure, fine. But if I do say to stop, you have to. And you have to be gentle with it—I’m pretty sure exposure therapy is supposed to be subtle. Not that this is even close to that considering I don’t have a goddamn tickling phobia, but I digress.”

“Are you sure?” Stan quirked a brow. “You know gentle can be worse sometimes, right? Especially considering how ticklish—”

“Gentle’s fine,” Kyle interrupted quickly. If Stan wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of red overtaking his features. “Just get on with it already, everyone knows that the anticipation’s the worst part.”

“Well, in that case, maybe we should—”

“Stan.”

“Fine, fine, let me set the timer.”

Stan messed around with Kyle’s alarm clock for a bit (superhero themed despite his teenage years, which should’ve been dorky but was somehow cute anyway), before assessing the situation at hand.

For as much as Kyle’s ticklishness had been cropping up in Stan’s life, each moment had been brief and rushed due to the scuffle that would arise from it. As such, Stan had never had a proper chance to explore the full depth of Kyle’s sensitivity—he wasn’t even sure where he should start. It was weirdly daunting to tickle someone with their permission and Stan hadn’t thoroughly prepared himself for the pressure it would bring. Where was a normal place to tickle? The sides? And what if he wasn’t ticklish there and they both just had to sit in the awkward silence that ensued?

“Well?” Kyle’s antsy voice cut through his thoughts. “Timer’s ticking, man. Look, if you’re trying to rile me up, I really don’t appreciate—”

“I know, I know, I’m just planning, alright?”

Nervously, Stan set his hands down on Kyle’s sides. He had jumped earlier at the poke, and in the past that general area had worked. Kyle inhaled slightly, shifting as he gripped his bedframe tighter. Good signs. He wiggled his fingers almost clinically over his shirt, more acting out the motions of tickling than doing it. A grin flitted over Kyle’s features, his eyes scrunching shut as he fought to resist the sensations, which seemed like a positive response. Feeling a tad more confident, Stan’s fingers spidered curiously up and around the area in haphazard loops.

He hadn’t told Kyle, but outside of the bullshit he had fed Kyle’s and his own odd cravings, he was hoping to use the experience to sus out where and how ticklish Kyle really was. Mostly for strategic reasons, but also to satiate a growing curiosity inside him. There was something so oddly thrilling about looking at someone, seeing a part of them, and knowing that a simple poke of the finger would make them crumple. Or maybe it was only thrilling with Kyle. Stan hadn’t quite worked out yet whether this was a tickling thing or a Kyle thing or both. For now, he was content to go along with his impulses, especially when given an opportunity as tempting as this.

The giggles had begun, a quiet, stuttered stream of them that Kyle kept attempting to hold back like they were a bad case of the hiccups. The muscles in his arms twitched as Stan kept tickling, begging him to let them block this.

“Tickle?” Stan teased, unable to help himself. Kyle’s eyes snapped open into a glare, but it was a weak one when combined with the flustered expression taking over the rest of his face. Stan held his gaze for a few, electrifying seconds before Kyle averted it. “It’s okay if it does, you know. Everyone’s ticklish. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Y-Yes it ihis,” Kyle gritted out, forcing the words into something comprehensible between all his laughter. “It’s fucking m-mortifying.”

“I don’t find it mortifying.”

“You’re n-not the one being tihihickled—shit, can you fucking move?”

“Oh.” Stan glanced down at his hands, dancing freely over the same spot on Kyle’s sides—a spot that had him fidgeting and squirming like mad on the bed. “The sides, huh? Well, maybe we should stay here then, if this is such a bad spot. That way you’ll quicken your resistance training.”

Kyle let out an indignant strangled sound, fighting through another fit of giggles before he could respond. “It’s nohohot the wohohorst spot!”

“So somewhere else is then?”

“Noho!”

“Well, it can hardly be both, Kyle. So you better start suggesting places or I’ll have to choose for you. Like… what about here?” Stan teasingly crawled his hands up his sides and onto his ribs, allowing his nails to curl around their edges. “Better?”

Kyle did not respond due to the influx of laughter that had just taken him over, but based off the frantic, panicked thrashing the move had induced, Stan assumed it was a safe bet to make. Petty remarks had transformed into a series of nononono’s as Kyle shook his head in protest.

“So, this is your worst spot!”

“No—no, god, s-sHIT, fuhuhuck, c-cut it out!”

“Really?” Stan’s eyebrows shot up. “You seem pretty ticklish here, I don’t know.”

Kyle attempted a growl, but it merely collapsed into a pitched giggle a couple moments later. “S-sure, whahahatever man! J-Just lighten uhuhup!”

“I have lightened up man, I don’t think I can be gentler.”

“Well, it tihihickles!”

“Clearly,” Stan agreed, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at the other’s confirmation. “I mean, this is kind of sad to watch. This really shouldn’t tickle that much, I’m barely touching you.”

Kyle groaned, hiding his red face in the crook of his arm. “Oh my god, shuhuhut up!”

“No, seriously, watching you is making me feel nervous.” It wasn’t entirely just a tease either. Watching Kyle squirm, fingers tightening and loosening on the bed, feet kicking like mad and digging into the mattress, red crawling over his skin like a descending sunset as frantic giggles took him over—it was hard to observe without feeling a little squirmy yourself. It almost made Stan feel bad enough to stop. Almost. “Which is why it is definitely necessary for me to find your worst spot if this is how much you’re reacting from this alone.”

“Maybe I don’t h-hahahve a wohohorst spot!”

A lie, definitely. “Maybe. But you wouldn’t be so desperate right now if you didn’t. So, you can either tell me now, or I can find it.”

Kyle let out a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a groan that twisted something traitorously in Stan’s stomach. “Why i-is thihis relehevant?”

It wasn’t, really, but now that Stan basically had it confirmed that there was somewhere worse than this, somewhere that would truly drive him insane, he couldn’t just let things go there. “Resistance training, remember? And since you’re not offering up any ideas, I guess it’s on me to go exploring.”

And exploring he went. Nine minutes of exploring every ticklish spot he could find, nine minutes of Kyle still not stopping him in either an insane act of stubbornness or a subtle admittance of something, nine minutes of hearing Kyle let out every squeak, squeal, giggle, snort, and wheeze known to mankind before he finally found it. It wasn’t even on purpose either. A simple grab of the leg to readjust and Kyle’s arms were shooting down to shove him off, anticipatory giggles and protests already falling off of his lips.

The two locked eyes for a brief moment as Kyle sat up, staring down at Kyle’s knee and Stan’s hand that had clearly been knocked off.

“Oh—”

“No.”

“I see—”

“Stan, seriously, fuck off, it’s nothing.”

“So that’s it—”

“Stan, I will knee you so fucking hard, don’t you dare—”

“Fine, fine,” Stan held up his hands in defeat, unable to help his own amused grin at Kyle’s desperation. “I’ll let it go, even though you technically didn’t finish your full time. But only because you look like you’re actually going to kill me and I want to live through this afternoon.”

Kyle eyed him skeptically for a moment, assessing the truthfulness of the statement. His knees were protectively tucked under himself and Stan felt his fingers flex anxiously by his side.

"Alright," Kyle said, after a reluctant beat. "Thanks. I still think that whole thing was pointless, but I'm willing to admit that it was nice to have someone actually stop when asked."

"So, theoretically, you would be down to get tickled if I just listened to—"

"Don't push it."

And even though Kyle didn’t untense for the rest of that night, Stan kept true to his word. Primarily because of what he had said, but also because a knot had begun tying itself in Stan’s stomach throughout those nine minutes that had grown to such a size that Stan didn’t feel like he could try anything without either throwing up or admitting to something, neither of which were desirable options.

Because unfortunately, he had a feeling this was probably both a Kyle thing and a tickling thing. Which meant only one thing.

Stan was fucked.

#tickle fic #south park #kyle broflovski #commission #commissions #stan marsh #style #tickling #fanfiction

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weak4skz · 11 months

Text

Hope is For Suckers

Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, idol au

Summary: Han and y/n have been friends since before they remember. But what happens if their friendship is severed by an unfortunate situation and Han goes off to be an idol while y/n is in college. When they connect through a mutual friend, what happens then?

Word Count: 1.3k (sorry it's short I'm just trying to get this chapter out)

CHAPTER WARNINGS: eating disorder, negative self talk/thoughts, body dysorphia, a lot of feelings, panic attack

NOT PROOF READ!!!

THIS IS NOT AN ACCURATE REPRESTATION OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED IN THE FIC

A/N: Sorry for the really late update. I've been really busy and haven't been really motivated to write. I might but HIFS on hiatus until July but idk yet. Thank you for all the support though, I really appreciate it

want2besomeoneelse lixie-jisung-stan jisuperboard mentoslol i-dont-know-me-either mooncallerautumn poisonivy21

this is my current taglist. if your name is in read it means I can't tag you. also please comment if you would like to be added

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

When we pull into Chan’s designated parking spot I’m so nervous I could puke.

“Hey,” Chan says, gently putting a hand on my knee to stop its bouncing. “They’ll all love you just as much as I do. But if you still want to go home I’ll drive you ‘kay?”

“No, I want to meet them.” I force out of my mouth. He just nods and we both get out of the car and begin to walk towards the door. When he opens it, the first thing I notice is the smell of freshly baked brownies. Then, I hear yelling and laughing coming from the living room.

“YOU landed on MY property. PAY ME THE DANG FINE.”

Then I fear another voice scream

“YOU’RE IN JAIL! I’M NOT GIVING MONEY TO A CRIMINAL.”

“THAT’S NOT HOW YOU PLAY!!!” the first screams.

All of this over a game of monopoly?

“Boys” I mutter with a playful roll of my eyes. “I know right” Chan responds with a small smile.

Chan leads me to the living room. “Hey guys” he greets the six men casually.

“Hey Chan hyung.” one with mid length dark hair and glasses responds. “Who’s that?” he asks, pointing to me.

“This is Y/n. She’s a good friend of mine and older than half of you so show some manners and introduce yourselves.”

“I’m Jeongin” glasses says.

“Seungmin”

“I’m Felix”

“I’m sexy king Hyunjin”

“Man shut up.” the shortest says with a small laugh, “I’m Changbin”

“I’m Minho”

Then they go around again and tell me their ages. But I thought Chan told me they’re were eight members in his group? As I finish my thought, someone bursts in through the door.

“‘Sorry I’m late guys. Oh hi… what’s your name? I’m…”

“Han?”

There is a pause, a moment of silence, and for a second I regret saying anything.

“Uh yea, I’m Han Jisung. How did you know my name?”

“Chan talks about you gusy all the time. I just assumed it was you because you were the only one missing. I’m Y/n''

oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh there is no way HAN JISUNG the man who is (partially) responsible for my villain backstory is the eighth member of Chan’s band

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick” I say, trying to excuse myself from the source of my impending panic attack. I speed walk to Chan’s bathroom and lock the door behind me. Once I get the feeling that I’m safe, I slide my back down the door and sit on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and burying my head between them. Then I try to regulate my breathing before I start hyperventilating.

Breath in, one two three, breath out. Breath in, one two three, breath out

I repeat it over anad over again until my breathing is as regulated as it is going to get. Then, I get up and fix my mascara and blot away the bits that escaped with my tears.

I walk out of the bathroom and find Chan alone in the kitchen. “Hey Chan, I’m feeling kind of sick so I think I’m going to head home.”

“Are you okay? You were fine when we were at lunch.” he looked concerned. Great, now I feel bad for lying

“I just got really bad cramps out of nowhere. And you know I get crabby wehen I don’t feel very well.” I try to end the conversation quickly so he doesn’t catch me lying. “Oh, I didn’t know you were on your period. I would have just brought lunch to your place. Let me go get my keys so I can get you home, kay?”

My period? Ohhhh, he thinks I’m on my period. Thank God he thought I was on my dperiod because I hadn’t thought that far into my lie. While celebrating that little victory, Han walks into the kitchen.

“Oh hey. I saw you were looking sick and I wanted to come check up on you” he said while grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Yea I just have really bad cramps.” I lied again.

“That sucks,” he started, taking a sip of his fanta. “Hey, I was just wondering if you went to Fairview High School. You kinda look like this girl I used to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I went there. I thought I knew you from somewhere but I couldn’t tell.” I responded. ‘A girl I used to hang out with’ huh. Was I really the only one that was thinking about our relationship for the past seven years. Not gonna lie, that kind of hurt. Because up to a couple moments ago I thought very highly of Han, I still considered him a friend. Because he had been my only friend for so long, I sort of held hope that he would be my friend forever. But I was too naive, I should have known he would forget me. I mean, I’m not that memorable; but I thought I would at least be more than a girl he ‘used to hang out with.’

Not a moment later, Chan comes back into the kitchen with my shoes. “Oh, hey Han. The kids are waiting for you so they can start a new game of uno.”

“Ok. Nice catching up with you Y/N.” I mustered the nicest smile I could at the moment and responded with a bitter ‘you too’ before moving to hop off the counter to put on my shoes.

Chan holds me down by my knees and kneels down to lace up my converse himself. “What were you guys talking about?” he asked after tying the first shoe. “We used to go to the same highschool.”

“Cool, were you guys friends?” Chan asks, now finished with tying both shoes. “I thought so” I mumble, mostly to myself.

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hb-writes · 2 years

Text

The Force of Friendship

Summary: Charlie is upset to learn the man she thought of as an older brother…a partner in crimes against Harvey…a best friend…is a fraud. Mike has been lying to her for years, and so has just about everyone else she considers family. In the wake of the discovery and with Harvey trying to force some type of reconciliation, Charlie seems willing to do just about anything to get away from Mike. And Mike cares too much about Charlie to just let her go.

Characters: Mike Ross, Harvey Specter, Ray Benghazi, Charlie Specter (OC), Louisa (OC)

Request: The prompt wasn’t requested, just sort of something I came to on my own. I tried to work in another request about Charlie having a severe allergic reaction. The original request was specifically for a nut allergy, but Charlie loving peanut avocado rolls is canon as per The Usual Order, so I had to find something else. (I couldn’t find the original ask/ I thought I knew who it was from but can’t find your name either anywho hope you see this and enjoy!)

Content Warning: Angst, thinly researched descriptions of allergic reactions and subsequent EpiPen usage, insect stings, giving past me lots of credit because I’m not looking this over at all!

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there.

Angst Celebration Masterlist

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

“Look at that. Lucky, lucky. You get Ray and Harvey—” Charlie groaned at Louisa’s announcement, but Louisa wasn’t nearly finished. “—and Mike today.”

“Mike’s here?” Charlie glanced up at Louisa’s words, setting her pen in the book’s crease as she looked to the street where Ray, Harvey, and Mike were all waiting for her, the latter two outside of the car, loitering on the sidewalk.

“What the hell?”

Charlie had only been expecting Ray. She’d been looking forward to having just Ray to contend with. She’d been looking forward to an easy conversation and a little quiet when she got home. Harvey was supposed to be working late and that meant she would have the apartment to herself for a few hours. She could be in bed before he arrived home and avoid him altogether if she wanted.

Charlie had recently made a project out of avoiding both Harvey and Mike to the full extent possible. She passed any of her time at the firm buried in Pearson Specter Litt’s file room or over in the library, more familiar with Harvey and Mike’s schedules than she’d ever been in her entire life—all for the sole purpose of making sure they didn’t match up with her own, that she didn’t accidentally meet either of them in the hall or Conference Room C or the staff kitchen.

And while it wasn’t easy avoiding either of them, especially the brother she lived with, Charlie had done a fair job of it until last weekend. She’d remained strong and stubborn until having to pass forty-eight unencumbered hours with Harvey, the two of them trapped in the apartment by insistent downpours.

She’d done something close to forgiving him over the course of the weekend. She’d done it tentatively, reluctantly, but some part of her had needed it. Charlie needed her brother, even if they weren’t talking about the issue at hand. Even if they were pretending things were fine. And Harvey had, for a few days at least, seemed neutral about how she was dealing with Mike.

Charlie should have known that wouldn’t last. She should have known Harvey wouldn’t simply let things go.

“Oh,” Louisa smiled. “Who do we hate this week?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. She hadn’t told Louisa or Noah anything about her feud with Harvey and Mike. She couldn’t. And it felt like there was no one for her to talk to because anyone she actually could speak to about it...well, they’d all already known. They’d kept it from her. Lied to her. Donna, Harvey, Mike, Rachel—all of the people Charlie normally confided in—had been keeping it from her, keeping the fact that Mike was a fraud. He wasn’t a lawyer. He’d never gone to Harvard.

“Not Ray, of course?” Louisa prompted, pulling Charlie from her thoughts.

Charlie shook her head, dismissing Louisa’s suggestion. “No, it’s not Ray.”

It was never Ray. He was a neutral party. Ray was the only one who didn’t push, the only one letting things lie while everyone else was working on strategies to get Charlie to forgive Mike, or at least to get her in a room with him, to get her within listening distance without her hands clasped tight over her ears, an obnoxious trill of, “La, la, la. Can’t hear you,” shouted out from between her lips.

They were all trying to avoid a repeat of that performance.

“Harvey, then?” Louisa continued.

Charlie gave a noncommittal movement of her head as she spotted her brother step away from the car. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Yeah, of cour—Oh, Harvey, hello.” Louisa smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “A pleasure to see you as always.”

“Hello, Louisa.” Harvey spared his sister’s friend an obligatory smile and greeting. “Charlotte, let’s go.”

Charlie shook her head, recommitting her attention to the open text in her lap, scratching out some pointless words in the notebook she had set on top. “I’m staying at Isa’s tonight. Forgot to add it to the calendar.”

“It’s a school night,” Harvey said.

“And we have a paper due tomorrow, Harvey. For school. It’s worth 40% of our grade this semester and—”

“The history paper you emailed Donna three hours ago to print off for you?” he asked. “Mike and I proofread it for you on the way over. It’s in my briefcase.”

“Great, so it shouldn’t be a problem for me to stay over at Isa’s, then.” Charlie closed her book and gave him her full attention. “Homework’s all done. Makes no difference where I sleep.”

“Not tonight. Come on.” Harvey pulled the books from her lap and shouldered her bag before guiding her up from the bench. “You’ve got plans. Let’s go. Nice seeing you, Louisa.”

“You, too.”

Charlie shrugged at her brother’s grasp, trying to get Harvey’s hand away from her. “You don’t have to lie to him, Isa. He knows people don’t actually enjoy seeing him.”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s go.”

Charlie pushed Harvey’s hand away as he clasped it on her shoulder, guiding her towards the sidewalk. As Charlie approached the car, she reached out for the handle of the front door, groaning when she found it locked. Ray lowered the window.

“Hi, Ray. Let me sit up front?”

Ray gave her a sad frown. “Sorry, Charlie.”

Charlie turned her stare on Harvey as Ray rolled the window up. Harvey wasn’t looking at her as he held open the door to the backseat. He just assumed she’d get in. Because she’d forgiven Harvey, or done something similar to forgiving him—something she really had no choice in considering he was the only permission-granting and caregiving adult in her life—Harvey assumed forgiveness of Mike would follow along just after. It was only natural.

But Charlie wasn’t ready and she had so recently forgiven her brother that she was almost surprised by how much Harvey was pushing this—pushing her towards Mike, towards the lie they’d kept from her for so many years, especially when he was so insistent on Charlie always telling him the truth.

“I’m not sitting between two liars for forty blocks during rush hour.” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll take the train.” She glared at her brother though she couldn’t really even tell if he was looking at her, not with those dark sunglasses Harvey thought made him look cool. Maybe they did make him look cool, but right now they irritated Charlie to no end and she would’ve liked to slam the pretentious frames down on the ground and crush them beneath her heel.

Charlie thought better of it and instead took half a step away from the car, intending to head for the nearest subway station. Harvey grasped her elbow and tugged her back before her right foot could touch down on the pavement. “No, you won’t. You’re not—”

“Fine. No trains.” Charlie struggled against her brother’s grip. “I’ll walk, then. I’d rather walk all the way to White Hall, take the ferry to Staten Island and back than ride in a goddamn car with you two assho—”

“Enough, alright?” Harvey snapped, rolling his eyes. “You’ve made your point and now it’s time for you two to make nice. Play in the same sandbox again. You’re friends.”

The existence of an undeniable friendship between Mike and Charlie was a truth that had at one time bothered Harvey. It had been the bane of his existence on many occasions, that his kid sister and his pseudo-kid associate got on so well, but over the last few weeks, he’d realized that the only thing worse than their allied forces being used against him was them being on the outs.

It was quieter, for sure, but somehow that was worse.

“We’re not friends. We were never friends.”

Charlie didn’t look at Mike as she said it. The words were almost casual. She could almost make them seem as though they were true, but Harvey knew better. Some part of Mike did too, but the part wracked with guilt was just a bit louder, so he was left with nothing more than the hope that it wasn’t true.

“I said enough,” Harvey answered. “There’s no need to make this a whole goddamn scene. Just get in the—”

“Hey, Harvey?” Mike cleared his throat, pulling Harvey’s gaze over the top of the car. “I could...uh...I could take a walk.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes as she finally looked at Mike. She was so unused to thinking of him as the enemy, but the hurt and betrayal had made easy work of the switch, seemingly ripping the comfortable, brother-sister-like bond that had been between them to shreds. It didn’t help that Mike had become so tentative in her presence, so unsure how to handle things, so hesitant of overstepping in the face of Charlie’s anger.

Mike had been staying quiet in a way he hadn’t been since first meeting the Specters, since he was a new associate unsure of his boss and his boss’s little sister, unwilling to insert himself in their conversations, wary of adding in his clever little quips to their banter. He’d been wary of Charlie in general, which only served to prove a point to the girl—that the relationship they’d had before was nothing more than a show.

It wasn’t real.

This tentative version of Mike, the one who didn’t know what to make of her, who didn’t know how to fix things, or maybe just didn’t care to try…this was the real Mike. This was the real relationship that existed between them.

“I can walk all by myself, thank you.” Charlie glanced in Mike’s direction, but avoided his gaze, instead setting her eyes on the stream of traffic moving slowly on the street as Mike came around the car to stand beside them on the sidewalk.

“And I’ll probably beat you there, anyway,” she added.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s the back seat or you let him join you. I don’t care which, but you’ve got about thirty seconds to—”

Charlie ripped her elbow free and grabbed her bag off her brother’s shoulder in one motion. She marched away from the car, her decision made, little attention paid to Mike’s calling her name as she stalked down the pavement.

She kept her pace consistent—aggressive and unrelenting—even as Mike jogged to catch up. Charlie could’ve lost him if she really wanted to. She could’ve gotten far enough ahead and turned a few corners before slipping into a store or the subway or a passing crowd of tourists, but Charlie wasn’t keen for more shouting with her brother, so she settled for letting Mike struggle to keep up. She found herself enjoying his quickened steps and feeble attempts to dodge tourists more than she’d anticipated.

Charlie kept it up for several blocks, stepping out into intersections with perilous timing, unconcerned by the warning of traffic lights as they shifted from red to green. She smirked to herself each time Mike got left behind, separated from her by an MTA bus or a line of enterprising yellow cabs.

It was a string of back-to-back buses and a well-timed walk sign that changed Charlie’s mind about losing him for a bit, an opportunity she figured she shouldn’t give up now that it presented itself.

She popped into Central Park as the last in the line of buses passed by. She sent a smirk and a wave to Mike as she disappeared through the entrance and down one of the paths. She knew it was more probable that she would get lost in the park than Mike would—he had likely memorized the pathways in all of the city parks by the age of seven, after all—but Mike hadn’t memorized her. He didn’t know where she’d go. A few weeks ago, Charlie would have thought he knew her well enough to guess, but now…now she couldn’t be sure what she and Mike really knew about each other. And the idea of Mike twisting himself around on the sidewalk trying to figure out which way she had gone gave Charlie far more satisfaction than it should have.

Charlie knew she was being childish about the whole thing, not just in running off to the park now, but the whole silent treatment she’d instituted on anyone who had kept it from her and the smart ass comments she’d used as her only means of communication—all of it was childish. Harvey had told her as much, instructing her more than once to cut it out, but Charlie wasn’t ready to forgive Mike. She wasn’t even sure if she’d really forgiven Harvey even though they were technically on speaking terms. There was some part of her that still felt hurt by the years of deceit. She was still hurt by the fact that her friendship with Mike now felt like nothing more than another of his lies. It felt fake, like nothing more than a clever ruse.

It all did. Most of the people in the world Charlie cared about had been keeping this from her. Most of the people in her closest circle had been lying to her. Some part of her understood why they kept it from her. She knew the legal implications of it and all. She knew she was just a kid. She knew she didn’t need to know, but those rationalities didn’t make the fact that they’d hidden it from her sting any less.

Charlie glanced over her shoulder, back along the trail she’d been on for a few minutes now. A smarter person might have switched paths, but Charlie knew if she deviated, she’d never find her way out. She could navigate the grid system of New York’s city streets. It was easy enough to count the numbers up and down and traverse the avenues, but Central Park was a different monster—one she had never mastered and knew she never would. She was okay with that. She was okay with letting Harvey or whoever she was with be her guide.

But Charlie was alone now—or as alone as one could be in a city of 8 million people. There was no one on the path ahead of her, and Mike wasn’t behind her, so she slowed her pace to account for that knowledge. She could take her time. She didn’t have to wander much further from the street because her unwanted chaperone wasn’t something she needed to worry about any longer. He probably figured she’d taken a left, moving further into the park, rather than staying straight and staying along the path which stuck closest to the park’s edge.

It was what most people would do, but Charlie wasn’t most people. And the thought crossed her mind that Mike should have known that.

Don’t play the odds, play the man. Harvey always said so. They’d both heard him say it enough. And if Mike was really her friend, he would have known…

Charlie felt a wave of something, a painful confirmation of all she’d been thinking in the form of a burning lump in her throat. Her eyes pricked as they started to water and she kept moving forward, barely aware of her surroundings. She took a heavy breath and wiped her eyes before noticing the meticulously landscaped section with flowers and greenery spanning both sides of the pathway.

She’d never been to that particular stretch of the park before and she took a moment to take it all in, amazed for what must have been the thousandth time by the fact that she could feel so close to nature, so isolated, yet so connected—so alone while still being in the heart of the concrete, fluorescent jungle that was New York.

From her spot, she could barely hear the cars out on Fifth Avenue. She could barely hear the ambient hum of a million air conditioners dotting the windows of the Upper East Side. It was just her…just Charlie Specter and the gentle breeze and the hum of insects brought to life by the warming sun—enticed, drawn to this very spot and singing their thanks to the sea of flowering plants.

It was beautiful in its simplicity and for a moment, she felt more present and connected with the world than she’d been in weeks. Charlie had been so distracted, so consumed by everything with Mike and it just felt good to think of something else. A nice distraction from it all…

Charlie dropped her bag and waved her hand as something buzzed near her ear. She let out a nervous screech as she tried to shift away from the sound, backing away from the flowers. She flicked a hand through her hair. The buzzing was still there, so close. And then she let out a second scream—this one much louder—as she felt a sudden pinching in her neck, her hand colliding with something small and fragile, but powerful and determined.

The buzzing sound was finally gone, but it brought her no relief, no comfort, some part of her knowing the damage was done. Charlie clapped a hand down over the spot on her neck. She could already feel the skin pulling taut as it swelled, a burning, itchy pain radiating from beneath her fingers.

She’d experienced it only a handful of times in her life, though she could only really remember the most recent bee sting. Her father had still been alive then. She’d still been in Riverside. She’d been young, but old enough to understand, old enough for it to scare her. She had refused to go out in the backyard for half the summer after that.

It surprised Charlie how quickly a simple stinging pinch like that could overtake her, but overtake her it did. She tried to swallow. She tried to explain away the heat flowing through her, the faint tingling in her lips and throat, the building thrum of her heart.

She had never faced this alone before and it had been so long now—half a decade at least, but Charlie knew what came next. She could feel it already. Her throat tightened, restricting her airflow. Her vision darkened around the edges, the sunny afternoon no longer so bright.

She couldn’t hear the breeze or the bugs anymore, either. She couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t within her—the pumping of her own blood, the wheezing of her breaths, the internal pleas for something, for someone, for help as she stumbled back down the path seeking the bag she’d dropped.

She knew what to do. She knew she needed to find the EpiPen stashed in her bag. She knew she needed to use it—to set the needle into her own leg, but knowing and doing were two very different things. It had always been Harvey or her father administering the shot.

She’d been trained. She’d practiced. Charlie knew the steps and she knew exactly where it was in her bag, stashed deep in the pocket within the outer section of her backpack, largely forgotten. She hadn’t been stung in years. It was there as a precaution, just in case. She knew and yet some part of her was scared of what came next. Even if she wasn’t struggling to close the distance between her and the bag, struggling to make her feet and hands cooperate, Charlie didn’t know if she could do what needed to be done.

A second pair of hands—Mike’s hands—clasped down on her bag as she reached it. She hadn’t heard him approach. She hadn’t noticed him lower to the ground, his pristine suit becoming quickly covered in dirt and dust from kneeling on the pebbled path. His fingers moved quicker than hers as he opened the outermost pocket, digging out the EpiPen she’d told him about nearly two years ago. It was something she’d mentioned to him in passing, but it was something Mike would have committed to memory even if he didn’t have a photographic memory.

Just like he’d committed how to use it to memory, reading through the directions that day. Just in case. Just as a precaution. A piece of Charlie Specter absorbed and memorized with ease. Nearly unconscious, as natural as them becoming friends over the past few years. Family.

Mike met her eye as he prepared the device, removing the safety cap.

“May the force be with you,” he said. Delivery of the phrase at that exact moment was another piece of her memorized, this one from a story delivered from Harvey about their trials and tribulations with her fear of needles. Harvey always said it before Charlie got a shot or received the Epipen. It was a joke, something that relaxed her a bit. It was something Mike had also filed away just because, just in case…because, fraud or not, Mike Ross was Charlie Specter’s friend, her family. He cared for her. He listened to her. He listened to Harvey and Donna talk about her. He’d committed a good chunk of her to memory, something he’d have done regardless of his abilities. He knew her allergies and her sensitivities. He knew her likes and dislikes. He knew how to make her smile. He knew how to make her roll her eyes. Mike knew it all.

And Charlie knew him, too. She’d committed Mike to memory along the way as well, cataloging his stories and advice into places where she maybe should have been cataloging facts about the American Revolution or centripetal forces.

She had come to the conclusion that with a lie as big as they’d been keeping from her, Charlie couldn’t possibly know Mike Ross, but she did. She knew all of the little things that made Mike Mike. She knew him as well as any friend could.

Charlie nodded and Mike swung his arm, pressing the tip of the device into Charlie’s leg. He held it there for a few seconds as the epinephrine moved into her system, relaxing the muscles in her body—allowing her breath to shift back towards normal.

“Are you alright?” Mike asked, one ear to his phone though his focus was on Charlie, watching for signs that the injection hadn’t worked and his intervention hadn’t been enough.

Charlie nodded, unsure if she’d be able to talk. Her throat was no longer tight, but she could feel a sob rising, a wave of emotion threatening to overtake her. And even if she’d trusted herself to say something, Mike was busy anyway—talking to the emergency dispatcher, letting them know their precise location in the park and her status. Charlie pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, willing the overwhelm to pass her, to leave her alone so she could get through what came next without becoming a sobbing mess in Mike’s presence. She didn’t want him to see her like that, the tears feeling too intimate now even though Mike had seen them before.

Mike’s free hand moved to the back of Charlie’s head and he drew her to his chest, his chin settling on top of her head as he stayed on the line with the operator. Charlie’s resistance broke with the contact, the tears flowing freely as the force of their friendship drew her out of herself and away from the lonely, all-consuming anger she’d felt towards Mike, her brother, and everyone who’d helped to keep his secret. In the familiarity of Mike’s arms, Charlie inched closer to forgiveness, towards the realization that the situation wasn’t just black and white, right and wrong. It wasn’t so simple. Nothing and no one ever was—not Mike, not her, not the relationship that existed between them. Charlie wouldn’t be able to throw their friendship away, the force of it was too strong, too solid, too true. Mike Ross was a friend. He was family. And as Mike rubbed his hand down her back, holding Charlie close as the wave of emotion and adrenaline passed through her, his arms the only thing keeping her safe—together—Charlie was grateful that the force of her anger hadn’t succeeded in pushing Mike away. While they waited for the ambulance, Charlie was comforted by the idea that maybe no force in the world ever could.

Angst Celebration Masterlist

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

#suits usa #suits fanfic #suits fanfiction #suits #mike ross #harvey specter #sister fic #platonic fanfic #charlie specter #Lines To Live By #hb.writes angst #500 follower celebration

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knickynoo · 2 years

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hello, and happy back to the future day! :D

if you'd like to talk about it, i'd be curious to know what bttf means to you/why you love it (if you haven't had a similar ask before, of course)!

Happy BTTF day! (I somehow managed to forget that was today until I saw the posts going around).

I don't think I've ever gotten an ask like this before. It's a good one!

Back to the Future is my all time favorite movie. (Duh.) I was introduced to it by my mother when I was around 10, and it had. A GRIP on me. So much so, that I sometimes have wondered if my mom ever regretted exposing me to it. But I'd just never seen a movie like that before. It was one of my first "grown-up" movies, and I remember thinking I was so cool for knowing about it. I'm sure a lot of the themes and details of it flew over my head, but there was also a lot that I really loved about it. The adventure, the suspense, the music, etc. I had a massive crush on Michael J. Fox, which might have also been a big reason why those movies were on repeat so often when I was a kid. I still have my childhood diaries where I wrote about him in the way only a 10 year old girl with a big crush could. My mom lovingly tolerated this phase, going so far as to get me a special autographed photo of him that hung on the wall of our family room for many years. (It's now in my room with my other collectibles)

I think I've mentioned this before, but one of my best friends at the time was ALSO going through his BTTF phase, so we ultimately only served to fuel each other's interest in it. We used to sit together on my front steps and listen to the soundtrack and talk about the movies. It was great. Just two kids, being geeks.

Eventually, I kind of moved on from the movies, and there was actually a long stretch of time where I didn't watch them for years. I got back into them during those initial few months after Covid hit and there were the strict lockdowns. Being home so much, I was watching a lot of TV, caught the first movie, and went oh. OH. Now I remember why I loved these movies. It wasn't long before I decided to make a tumblr to get all of my thoughts out of my head.

A lot of my reasons for liking the films now are the same as when I was little, but I can really appreciate the heart of them now. And I think that's what I like most about the trilogy. The heart, the love, the message that you can do good and help others and love the people in your life to the point of being willing to sacrifice yourself for them.

And the movies have an extra special connection for me because my best friend and I literally have the Doc/Marty dynamic. She's several decades older than me, has mentored me for years, considers me part of her family, is delightfully eccentric, and has a pet named after a scientist. This is--surprisingly--something I hadn't consciously thought about/realized until a few months back when pondering why I felt so strongly about Doc and Marty's friendship. But it's part of why I talk about them a lot I think, and why I consider intergenerational friendships to be a beneficial thing. I know what it's like to have a Doc in my life. I've got that wise, older friend I can go to for advice and just walk through the front door of her house because I've got the key. As far as I know, she isn't currently working on any time travel experiments, but if she called me up and told me to meet her at the mall parking lot, I'd be like, "Sure, I'm down." So like. I get it.

Anyway, this has been a long enough reply. But I think it explains how I ended up here, running a BTTF blog. Thanks for the ask!

#asks #back to the future #y'all know i skateboard too which only makes my role as the Marty in our friendship stronger

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crimberly · 1 year

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Rambling here because tumblr feels safer to post on. Also I just want to share the steps I have taken: This is a story about recovery.

Content warning: mental health, depression, body image, transphobia

I feel just like happy-venting. I been recovering from cPTSD and was never diagnosed with a few mental health conditions that would of been very important to know. Like... autism lol. Trauma off-set major burnout that lead me to losing control of my life and suffering major agoraphobia. Like never leaving my home. There were times I could never see myself going outside again, everything gave me panic. I was so unhappy and in this terrible pit. My spouse stepped up and helped me and I was well taken care of. But there where times I felt guilty from where I once had a job and was making our household income to just being incapable of doing necessities like getting groceries or even at one point cleaning. I spiraled, it was bad... Like severe depression not-get-out-of-bed BAD.

Now crim why are you sharing all of this? Because I think talking about recovery is important.

See my life during that time was the roughest. I won’t go into my trauma, I don't want to highlight it and I have boundaries--- but I will add an additional thing that held me back was the company I kept. To go through so much and to have a group of people not uplift me. Friend trauma... is another topic I think should be kept in mind. There was a point that some serious fallout happened over a confrontation I had with someone, lot of the issues revolving around my autism. I was expected to read the room and know my friends where upset with me when I was incapable, and then it just all blew up. Next thing I knew I was ghosted when I told them I needed space to heal from the interaction. My entire friend group I have known since high school just ghosted me.

I blamed myself. Clearly I was a terrible person. I always fucked up. I was unlikable. At least that’s what I told myself at the time. To be frank, if this ever makes the rounds and if you were in that friend group. You were abusers. There were people who called me stupid, I was always the joke. Even when I said I didn't like something you made me feel like I was too sensitive and the only one with a problem. You sat there and held past mistakes over peoples heads. Had unfair expectations, and expected people to adhere to your time but never respected mine. All while I had undiagnosed ASD.

Then I found out I was transgender. My world continued to crumble.

But again this is a recovery story. While yes, most of my friendships are online and even if some hiccups happened. I made new friends. I felt like I was cringey and sometimes I feel like I say dumb things. But the thing is, even if I did, people always held me up and made me feel appreciated and listened to. I started to learn that I was indeed likable. It never made sense to me but this is where a major shift started to happen. There where transphobic people and others that never accepted me. But for those who did and have stayed with me, you helped my trauma riddled brain piece together the pieces of what healthy human friendships actually look like. For that I will always be grateful and hold you all dearly in my heart. Confrontations seemed less and less scary to me. I started to learn that I wouldn’t have people just yell at me if we disagreed. And people just wanted me to feel comfortable and happy.

And the trans thing... OH LET ME TELL YOU BEING TRANS in 2019-2023 (when im writing this) I HAVE LEARNED TO TRULY AND UTTERLY NOT GIVE A FUCK AND SELF LOVE.

When the entire world sometimes feels like it hates you, and you are the center of a “lol culture war”. When everyone looks at you and thinks you are deranged... When your EXISTENCE is political. You learn how to not give a fuck. I will be the first to tell you being trans is harder than being a US Navy sailor/airman. Because surprise, Im a US Navy Veteran, and Im trans. Oh and covid didn’t help my agoraphobia either.

Finding myself and learning that I was trans, meeting healthy friends and getting diagnosed with autism has saved my life. I am the happiest I have been, and I can see more happiness is in store for me in the future. Therapy of course, but I have been going to therapy for years even when I shut down. I have been in therapy since I was in the military back in 2015. But what has truly saved my life is just embracing myself and learning that I am important. How can I be a good friend/partner/caregiver if I cannot love myself and let myself just be who I am? This of course took years and time to gather my thoughts around, I still struggle with dysphoria and body image issues, but I no longer internally abuse myself. Instead I go “oh Im not where I would like to be but I will get there maybe.” So I started buying what I want, I started doing my hair how I want. TRANS JOY is important. I got with a doctor who has helped me learn a lot of what I did was just autism. I started working out to feel good for the HEALTH benefits and not for body-image issues. I eat things that make me feel good and that I like. I take care of myself now, even if I still struggle.

I also have learned I never was a bad person, I was just autistic. My body didn't feel like mine? Shit I m trans. Feel like Im cringey and I say stupid things? It ok your friends still care and enjoy your company, they will tell you if you go over boundaries. The world started to feel less scary. Covid? Do what you can to personally be safe and responsible. Mask up, wash your hands. Its ok if you dont wanna talk or engage with people in the store. Take headphones to ignore everyone and just get your shampoo and go.

People became less scary. Someone passes by you and they give you a funny look? Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe they are having a bad day. Im in a public space Im ok. If I bother them...oh well, Im here for milk. If I bother them while buying milk that says more about them than me. But I digress. Recovery is like a roller coaster and it takes a very long time. I started taking walks. Started sitting in the car. Told myself if I was scared of driving I would drive when not many people where on the road. But you see where this is going. Learning who I am, loving who I am. Forgiving myself is what got me here. But that took time and effort, therapy and changing my social circles. But today I went to the store, got my medication, I made a hair appointment and I will be going by myself. I have stuffed animals with scent-disks in them that help me unwind when home. And now I’m contacting a community college to start going for a summer mini-semester. A year ago I could never see myself doing any of this.

But you know what I think about now that I don’t use all that energy mentally hurting myself? I want to go on hikes, I wanna ride bikes. I wanna go out and see the world. I want to meet people. I want to explore. I don’t just wanna experience it in a video game, I want to live these things that make me feel alive. I want to draw, share stories, have good times. I want to experience sunlight, I want to see a field of flowers--- so much more--- I want to live.

And before covid, I could not leave my bed and going to go get my mail gave me a panic attack.

I just wanted to share this. Maybe it wont go anywhere or reach anyone, maybe it will. But I just want you all to know you matter and embracing joy and love is life saving. Recovery is not easy. Recovery takes time. It’s rocky, messy and feels so unpredictable. However if you are ever in that pit, and feel like there is no light at the end of the tunnel. That you feel incapable to get where you wanna be. I will be honest with you, Im autistic I refuse to beat around the bush. It all starts with steps. Small steps and knowing that there is fulfilling experiences waiting for you.

You never know who you will meet, who will become a friend, and what little joys you will experience.

#trigger warning #transphobia #mental health #agoraphobia #trauma #ptsd #anxiety #recovery #hopeful #personal #i am pouring my heart out in this legit #maybe this will be hopeful for someone #growth #content warning #body image #uhhh is there anything else that might be missing my bad #nervous to post this ngl

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lfcrobbo · 2 years

Text

worst part abt being a student is people constantly LEAVING to do OTHER THINGS

#:(#going to feel sorry for myself for just a couple of minutes and then get over myself so bear with me:#listen i'm NOT going to pretend like i dont have any friends bc i DO and i know that and i love them etc #but it also CONSTANTLY feels like. whenever i make new friends (like ACTUAL friends like Hey! You're my Friend! friends and not just #acquaintances)#it's always someone that SUDDENLY gets into school somewhere else or gets a job and LEAVES and i'm like. oh okay! bye then!#and like we're still FRIENDS but we're now just. friends who see each other maybe twice a year #and of course seeing them at all is LOVELY but sometimes it does feel like. all my friends are friends that i just see twice a year......#like several of my friends have told me 'oh i appreciate your friendship so much bc it's so easy and natural even if it's been ages since #we've talked''#and like YEAH that's nice but!!! not when EVERYONE says that????#i dont know i dont KNOWWWW i'm just. emo rn? it's been a weird day anyways and literally JUST found out #that one of my friends (that i only really became friends with this year) is leaving town on SUNDAY? so yeah. uh. idk #idk it. triggered something i guess #:) im FINE im just. yeah #marth.txt

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books-and-catears · 3 years

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I don't really know if I'm allowed to make a request specially since I usually don't get my request taken but it worth a shot :)

Can you make the Obey me character's react to Teen Mc giving them a special type of flower? Like it expresses how they feel?

For example: trust (purple) Family (Red) Love (Yellow) brother/sister (Pink/blue)

(Teen Mc thinks of the demon brothers as family)

If you want to do Lord Diavolo And Barbutos, give them a flower that of Daisy (means she/he/they see them as parents)

I will appreciate it if you did this! Lots of love and support

Worry not! Your request is taken! This is such a cute idea tho awwww!!

I'll be making up some imaginary flower names for Devildom flora because I'm very bad at actual flower language, sorry :')

Hopefully you'll like it 🥺 Thank you so much for your kindness. Endless love and support to you as well!

Lucifer

Lucifer noticed a rare blue flower tucked neatly among his quills after you left his room.

It was his favourite shade of blue. Attached to it, was a note. "A sturdy Bluebellena for my strongest brother."

Oh my, this is from MC, it seems. He smiled knowing full well the significance of the flower.

His chest swelled twice the amount with pride. You saw him as your big brother? He couldn't be happier about it.

If you think he was overprotective and overbearing before, haha you were wrong.

Gives you special treatment and spoils you with gifts and treats. Favours you over his brothers.

Mammon

Notices a several small purple flowers tucked into his wallet next to Goldie when he comes looking for it in his room

Oi what's this? There's even a note? This looks like MC wrote it.

"To the best protector I could ask for :)" The note said.

"The purple Poppyionis - are staple symbol of trust" ,Satan told him when asked.

Mammon teared up instantly. Will definitely seek you out for a hug. He never thought anyone would trust a scumbag like him...

Overprotective 2.0. Is constantly by your side, keeping all other demons ten feet away from you. Also spoils you with gifts.

Only you can stop him from getting up to trouble because you're the only person he cannot lie to.

Leviathan

Huh? An Akuzon delivery? He didn't order anything yet. What's that inside?

Flowers and a Ruri Chan keychain?! WHAT?! WHO DID THIS?!

The Ruri Chan keychain rested amongst the bright yellow Sunshine Lilies along with a note. "Matching keys for my dearest friend."

Levi hugged the whole box to his chest, breathing in the Lilies. They smell just as pure as your friendship made him feel.

You can now enter his room WITHOUT a password! You've proved your friendship, now he will prove his ten fold.

He custom designs Cosplays of your favourite characters for you and brings you everywhere and talks thrice as much.

Satan

When he came to his room to fetch his latest read, he found two big white Penelope flowers in full bloom, tucked next to his book mark

And very faintly in pencil, one of the lines one of the page was underlined.

It read: "A found family is rare and strong one. Thank you for being mine." Satan cast a spell so the flowers wouldn't wilt.

He can't believe how much faith you have in him. To think that someone who would consider loving Wrath as family...

Overprotective 3.0 but he's more subtle about it. Teaches you any and every spell needed to protect yourself and any demon even remotely mean to you disappears the next day.

Use the cat themed stationery or socks he gifts you, he will be over the moon.

Asmodeus

Oh my my, what's this?? Who left a bouquet of flowers in his room? Well it's not uncommon but they are usually outside his door

Such pretty rouge Persemones all tied up so neatly with a bow and a note. "I hope this is what I look in your eyes all the time."

Persemones were used to convey celebration of the birth of a younger sibling in Devildom. Asmo was overjoyed as he danced around his room with the boquet

Then he promptly poses and posts pictures with it on his Devilgram before hunting you down and including you in them

Pampers you the most. Loves dressing you up and gifting you matching accessories to deepen your bond.

Beelzebub and Belphegor

The twins woke up to a potted plant near their window. Three flowers growing on the same branch - all three with different colours.

Red, Yellow and Purple petals all brushing against each other and a note attached to the pot. Beel recognised your writing and Belphie recognised the flowers.

"I don't know if I'm enough to fill your vacancy but thank you for filling mine." The Triplet Belladonnia was a special flower exclusively used during birth of triplets.

They used to three before the war and now years and years later they were three again. You better believe they will take this seriously.

They will even set up a different bed for you in their room. Beel is the protective soft sibling and Belphie is the fun sibling that helps you prank everyone else.

Diavolo and Barbatos

Dainty little Daisies adorn the Butler's quarters and the King's study as well. The make their rooms feel so tranquil and beautiful randomly.

They both meet during breakfast to discuss this curious phenomenon when they find same notes stuck to Diavolo's usual chair and the corner of the table where Barbatos waits.

"Thank you for always taking care of me. I'll always be so grateful." Diavolo was already swelling with joy seeing your handwriting when Barbatos came and explained what the daisies meant.

You think they act like your parents now?! Well wait for what they are about to do now. Chaotic doting parent and Chaotic calm parent dynamic commences.

Will ask you to permanently shift to the Castle and you will be treated exactly like a Prince's daughter. Protection, pampering and never ending wholsomeness.

Solomon and Simeon and Luke

All three of them the same bouquet of a colourful flowers in their rooms. Just lying there near their windows, waiting patiently to be noticed.

"To my fellow exchange students I love so very dearly" - the notes attached to the flowers said. And as if the notes weren't enough, the message in the flowers sent them into wholesomeness overload.

MC you are invited to have sleepovers here in the Purgatory Hall every night now. Yeah, forget HOL just move here please. You love them most don't you? They're your favourites according to the flowers.

In this household you have a Magical Dad, an Angelic Dad and an Hyperadorable sibling how can you ever want to leave now??

You will be overfed, overloved and overpampered and you will love every second of it. It's their promise.

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forhereyesonlyyy · 3 years

Text

love call. // iz*one, kcw. // one-shot.

in which missing your hardworking girlfriend causes you to do ungodly things, like staying up until two in the morning to drag her out for a late night date.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: chaewon on the brain all day 🥰 this is just something short and sweet for all my fellow chaewon thinkers 😩☝️ i wish to see her on a stage again 🥺

tags: fluff, wlw, established relationship, goofy, is it obvious i'm running out of things to say here.

warnings: none.

Perhaps your friends were right when they said that your girlfriend was the only person that could get you to act right because if she were around you right at this moment, you wouldn't be walking around the empty streets at two in the morning wearing shorts and a simple jacket. But you couldn't sleep to save your life, and you were getting tired just pacing around your room. Besides, what's a better plan than to take a short stroll around the neighborhood?

You could have probably watched another Netflix movie or played until your eyes started burning, but contrary to popular belief, you actually wanted to live beyond your 40s. It's not like walking around in the dark with absolutely no regard for what might be watching in the shadows was any safer, but at least you were having fun!

The city was practically dead anyway. Not even cars were seen driving around the streets. It truly felt like you were the only person in the world, and you loved that feeling. But it would have been more lovely if your girlfriend was with you.

Being an idol sure is demanding. I hope she's taking care of herself.

As if she could hear your thoughts from the other side of the city, your phone starts ringing and the special ringtone you set up just for when she calls or texts you starts filling the air. You immediately pulled out your phone and grinned when you saw her contact name on the screen.

You eagerly pressed the green button and put the phone against your ear, "Hi, beautiful."

Kim Chaewon laughs from the other line and you could feel your heart growing twice its size. Oh, how you longed to hear her laugh in person instead of through your phone. IZ*ONE has been busy with their Japanese promotions and they only got to go home a month ago, even then they had to attend a lot more activities. They had no time for rest, or to have a nice day off. It was the main reason why you have been so very worried about your girlfriend.

"I knew you'd be awake. Can't sleep?" Chaewon asks. You could hear her grunt, she was probably getting ready to sleep. While you appreciated her checking up on you at this ungodly hour, you wished that she just went straight to sleep. God knows how long of a day she probably had.

"As always. What's your excuse?" You jog across the street, your eyes fixed on the glowing sign of a cafè. Now you were fully aware of how you just stumbled into a street full of stores that are open until after midnight, and you have never been more thankful for bringing your wallet with you.

"Not to sound like I'm in love with you but," Chaewon pauses, and you could almost see her biting her bottom lip out of both nervousness and enthusiasm. "I was missing you— have been missing you. A lot. Too much, maybe?" Chaewon laughs at herself, and then mutters some nonsense that you couldn't decipher because her words made you stop on your tracks and tear up just a little.

Maybe you were too sensitive, or too dramatic, but you couldn't even put how much you missed her into words. For the months she was gone, you lost count of how many times you wished she would just come back to you. Perhaps you really were too attached, because at some point, you were in over your head at the thought of Chaewon realizing that romance did not have a place in her life as a rising star.

It was your biggest fear, getting abandoned by the person you love the most. Before Chaewon became your girlfriend, she was your most precious childhood friend. There was not a time in your life where she was never there for you, and you truly belived that your friendship would go on for the rest of your life.

You realized that your feelings for Chaewon was more than what a normal person would feel for their best friend when you entered your new high school together. She was just... glowing when you both attended the entrance ceremony, and you vividly remember how she gently took your hand in hers and promised that she'll do her best to make you proud.

But she didn't need to promise anything. Chaewon was already perfect in your eyes, you knew she wouldn't disappoint you ever.

Then on the same night she was announced to be a member of IZ*ONE, Chaewon expressed her gratitude to you by coming into your house and wordlessly kissing you while in tears. You didn't need her to confess her feelings through words since her kiss had already told you everything she wanted you to hear.

And now here you were, stronger than ever despite not having been seen each other for months too long.

"I miss you too, Chae," You replied after collecting yourself. There was no way that you would just allow yourself to break down in tears in the middle of the street. "Tell you what, the moment you're free to hang out, I'll get you that delicious strawberry cake we always loved consuming."

Chaewon laughs again, and the sound just makes you grin like a crazy person, "I'll hold you to that, (Y/N)." A yawn escapes her, and she groans. She probably knows that now you know that she's tired, you'll go on and on about how she should go to sleep. And you most certainly will!

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll text you when I wake up." You said. You did want to talk more, you wanted to hear Chaewon's voice for so many more hours but you'd hate to be the reason why she's so worn out. There will be opportunities some other time, I just have to be patient.

"Mm~ okay, I will," You hear some shuffling in the background. It was Chaewon making herself comfortable in her bed. "Wait. (Y/N), my love, are you seriously outside right now?" Your girlfriend questions. And all of a sudden, she didn't sound so tired anymore.

You scratched your head, "Um. No. What makes you think that?" It was never a good idea to lie to the person that knows you better than anyone else, but you had to try!

"I can literally hear the wind against your mic." Chaewon said. You squeezed your eyes shut, of course you would lose the battle before it even started.

Sighing, you turned away from the various shops, "Fine, fine. I am outside. I just... took a little walk because I couldn't fall asleep. I'll be going back home now, where I'm safe and where my beloved wouldn't yell at me." You replied with a teasing smile although Chaewon couldn't see it.

"It's dangerous to be out so late in the night, babe. I thought I told you that if you can't sleep, you can just call me?" You could hear Chaewon sit back up. Her tone was firm, you knew you couldn't joke around with her anymore. You take a seat at the nearest empty bench and snuggled yourself in your jacket. It was getting colder, but something inside you told you to not go home just yet despite your girlfriend's scolding.

"But you've been overworked to the bone, Chae. I didn't want to be an inconvenience," You admitted. You nervously fiddled with the zipper of your jacket. "You shouldn't even be calling me right now, you know?"

"(Y/N)... I'll use my time however I want, and if it's to talk to you, I'll take every sleepless nights I can get," Oh, you were so hopelessly in love with this woman. You leaned back on the bench as tears suddenly started falling down your cheeks. It absolutely infuriated you how Chaewon just knew what to say to you. "You're never a bother, okay? I love you, I really do." Chaewon means every word that she says, you could feel it in your heart.

You held back a sob, "I love you more, dummy."

Chaewon explodes in a burst of adorable giggles, "You're the dummy here! But in all seriousness, please go home. I wouldn't want you to get sick when I'm not there to take care of you." Even though your girlfriend was right, the brightly lit shops further down the street made several light bulbs in your head illuminate, and you just couldn't pass up on the opportunity to do that.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going back now." You said, now jogging towards the bike rental shop. The staff sitting by the entrance gave you a small wave as you approached him.

"Good girl," Chaewon yawns again, and you hear her collapse against the pillows. "Don't stay awake for too long now. Love you." Her words were slurred, you just knew she was one second away from running off into dreamland.

You smiled brightly, "Love you more." And with that, you hung up. You finally looked at the old man sitting by the bikes with shining, eager eyes.

Genius, that is what I am.

Exactly thirty minutes later, you start regretting your life choices. You were standing right outside IZ*ONE's backyard dead in the night, it wouldn't be surprising if someone mistakes you as a burglar or an obsessive fan and decides to call the cops on you. But you were already there, you would only wear yourself out if you decide to turn back now. Taking a deep breath, you carefully dropped the bike on the ground and took out your phone.

Before you could think to contact Chaewon once again, the sound of footsteps hurriedly approaching made you panic. I'm really about to be arrested like this, huh? It's been a fun life I guess.

"EUNBI-UNNIE, THERE'S A THIEF— wait, (Y/N)?!"

As if it the deity of fortune was looking down on you, Kim Chaewon stands a few meters in front of you wearing a shocked look on her face and a single slipper on her hand. It was probably what she was going to attack you with, had she not realized that it was you who had technically snuck into their backyard.

You smiled sheepishly at your startled girlfriend, "Surprise?" You barely finished speaking when Chaewon throws herself onto you, literally. You lost your balance and fell into the grass. Chaewon squeals into your ear and plants several kisses onto your face, and you laugh as she does so.

Chaewon pauses and holds your face for a good minute, staring at you as if she couldn't believe that you were right there with her. Then she engulfs you in a more gentle hug, and you wrap your arms around her waist, taking pleasure in the feeling of her loving embrace. Gods, you were about to cry again. It has been way too long since you were physically with Chaewon. You were almost willing to forget whatever plan you had and just cuddle with her for the rest of the night.

"I thought I told you to go home and sleep, you dummy!" Chaewon hits your shoulder, almost in tears herself. You raised yourself from the ground so that she was sitting on your lap, and you rested your head on her shoulder. Just her mere presence would have been enough for you, but now that she was right there, you didn't dare to not take advantage of the moment.

You hugged her closer than you ever have before, and you tilted your head to look into her beautiful eyes that never ceased to make you feel safe and appreciated, "I really love you, Chaewon." The pure sincerity on your voice was what really pushed Chaewon to let go of the restraints and let her tears fall free.

"I love you. I'm glad you're here." Chaewon slightly drips her head down to catch your lips with hers. It felt as if a collection of the world's biggest and most beautiful fireworks had set off inside your heart as you returned the affection. Chaewon always had that effect on you, she made every kiss feel like the first time and it just absolutely makes you swoon. The way she would carefully run her hand through your hair during it all made your heart go crazy.

You were never going to get tired of being in love with Kim Chaewon. Even if the two of you somehow ended up being on the opposite ends of the world, your hearts would always be together. Or something like that.

"This is probably a dumb question, but," Chaewon pulls away and smiles at you. Oh, yeah. Her smiles make your brain go haywire as well. "What are you doing here, anyway?" Your girlfriend asks.

"I'm taking you out on the best date you've ever had, baby," You said with a wide grin. (You never knew, but every time you showed her that stupidly cute smile, Chaewon falls for you even more.) Your face falls immediately a second after, however. "I-If that's okay. I mean, it is pretty late and you're exhausted."

Chaewon beams at you, and gosh you could just feel all her love through it, "I'd love to go on a date with you, (Y/N)," She then takes your face in her hands again, and her eyes immediately drop down to your lips that she has missed so very much. "But maybe after this."

Yeah, now that was a plan you could get behind.

#izone oneshots #izone scenarios #izone x reader #izone reactions #izone imagines #kim chaewon x reader #kim chaewon imagines #kim chaewon oneshots #kim chaewon scenarios #kim chaewon reactions #girl group oneshots #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group reactions

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

Disarming (Santi x fem!reader)

Summary: you and Santi - good friends- are Best Man and Maid of Honour at Frankie’s wedding, and guess what? There’s only one bed!

What is this? This is 5/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. The prompt is “We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend”, requested by @woakiees. Another double trope extravaganza! Hadley, I’m so pleased you suggested Santi for this one, as he immediately came to mind when I was writing this prompt :D Thank you so much for requesting! <3

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Apparently I get carried away EVERY time I write Santi. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! :-/

Word count: 7.5k. I’M SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Rating: 18+ ONLY (minors out, please, do not read or interact)

Warnings: it gets angsty in the middle. Reader has nightmare- comfort offered. Mentions of reader being “hurt” in the past but vague and unspecified. They have a fight. One or two alcohol mentions- no actual consumption. Food mention. Swearing. Steam leading into smut but not explicit- mentions of masturbation, erections, making-out, one brief allusion to choking kink. Let me know if I missed anything.

Tagging: @isvvc-pvscvl @casifer-is-king (loads of the tags aren’t working :-/)

GIF: @nathan-bateman

From the first moment you met Santi, you had simply fallen into step with him. It was effortless, and so, as soon as you found yourself by his side, you stayed there. What’s more, that’s exactly where he wanted you to be.

Despite the man’s hard, no-nonsense edge -which you also appreciated- he was warm and charming. It was easy to connect with him, in a way it hadn’t often been for you. For him too - or so the boys told you - the way you surpassed his defences was a rare thing. It shouldn’t have worked, perhaps. Usually, he was slow to trust and you were quick to love, but on this occasion none of that seemed to apply, the two of you tumbling squarely into a fast-friendship; one deeper and more intense, perhaps, than its duration might suggest. Still, despite the boys’ inferences that you would quickly become an item, and Santi’s continual attempts to blur the lines between this and… something more, “friends” is what you have remained.

You had felt it immediately with him. Something different. You simply... flowed. You fit. It was immediately evident, even on that first night, in the way you orbited around one another, setting up an impromptu beer pong of all things. You moved together with a fluidity and a precision that seems almost tactical- as though you too had run countless manoeuvres in the field with him. You could read him and understand him as though you had drilled his habits and patterns and idiosyncrasies over and over; learning him. However, he was never that much effort - the two of you came naturally to each other, little learning required. You knew each other with your gut.

At that fateful party, when you each escaped to the back porch steps for some air at a serendipitous moment, the conversation had immediately flowed, and not only as a result of his natural, disarming charm. The silence even came easily rightaway – a comfortable thing, the space between you stuffed with contentment, rather than the feeling of a gaping vacuum, needlessly filled. It turned out his best friend was dating yours (the pair to be wed this very weekend) but that almost seemed like the cherry on top, rather than the thing bringing you to each other.

Safe to say, what was true then is true now. You get on so well. You find him fun and easy and generous and you love the man dearly.

…Most of the time.

Those other times, though? Santiago “Pope” Garcia can be a pain in your ass. But that’s another reason you love him, you guess. Keeps things interesting.

“Please don’t kill me,” Santi says sheepishly, and it’s obvious to you he’s laying on the charm - actively trying to be as disarming as possible as he saunters over from the reception desk. For a moment, despite all his training, he looks as though he believes you could pull it off, too.

Your annoyance is already prepped; locked and loaded, as he pads squarely towards the banquette where you are sat - amidst a sea of luggage. You’ve been observing his attempts to charm the desk clerk with interest (his efforts, you surmise, at least partially effectual), and judging from the slight level of desperation in his efforts, you can already tell he fucked up somehow.

“What did you do?” you say impatiently, even as a smile twitches at the corner of your lips.

“I booked all the rooms we needed, for all of the wedding guests, right? 13 rooms here, and all 10 at the hotel across town. 4 more in guesthouses,” he recaps. “Got Frankie and Mila a great deal too, remember?”

You remember. And yet, you fold your arms across your chest, looking up at him incredulously. Okay then. Rolling with your attitude, the man takes a different tack. He sits next to you. Smiles. Leans in. Pats your thigh. He’s trying to disarm you too, you realise. It’s going to take more than that - you’re not some flimsy desk clerk who will form a puddle and bat your eyes at the first sign of his charm.

“Well, funny story. I may have forgotten to book our rooms,” he blurts.

Oh? Oh, great. Yeah. This is a grand fuck-up. The whole damn town is booked-out. It’s a small town. No longer amused, your nostrils flare in annoyance as you tug in a slow breath, schooling your tone just a little before you speak. “You what?” Okay, you didn’t manage to school it all that much.

“Look, I already sort of fixed it,” he smooths. That explains the flirting with the clerk. Although, you think, glancing back at her. She’s pretty. That partially explains the flirting with the clerk, then, you mentally correct. “There’s just one, teeny-tiny issue.”

You raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes. Well?

“We’re gonna have to share a room.”

You blink at him a few times, in surprise. Well, it’s not ideal. For a number of reasons. But you can think of worse things, truth be told. And he’s not wrong. It is a solution. Still, on his reveal, a succession of emotions and micro-assessments are bounced back and forth between your eyes and his, until you land on resigned annoyance, exhaling a long sigh. That is, until Frankie appears in the lobby, swanning in like he’s walking on air. He probably is, given that he’s getting married this weekend. His face splits with a smile so wide you reckon it should be painful to maintain, and you stand to greet him as he heads over.

You’re glad he’s happy. It means that you and Santi, as Maid of Honour and Best man, respectively, are doing a fantastic job of deflecting all of the stress away from the happy couple. Indeed, that assessment certainly feels true – you do feel stressed. Still, the two of you immediately paint your faces with masking smiles; though, in fairness, it’s hard not to smile while looking at Frankie – his obvious joy is infectious.

Frankie wraps you both in a hug, then rubs his palms together like an excited kid. “I don’t have much time. Just gonna say a quick hello to my parents. Apparently, my mom’s already started crying? Can you two sort some extra tissues for the ceremony or something? Oh, and is everything okay with the rooms?”

“With this guy? Are you kidding?”, you say before you think, throwing your thumb towards Santi. Immediately, his eyes submit a powerful plea to you to keep schtum- it is written all over his face that he doesn’t want to let Frankie down. Not even in the smallest of ways.

Frankie would find his little error funny, probably. But he can find it funny after the ceremony. “Everything is A-OK! This guy? He has every single detail taken care of.”

Frankie grins, his eyes narrowing proudly at Santi as he slaps him on the back, laying profuse thanks on the two of you; then, he floats away again, as if on a cloud. Santi’s brown eyes are big with gratitude when you look at him again, and you can’t help but weaken. You’ll admit, it’s really not that bad of a fuck-up. Besides, you’re tired. Between the drive out here, the wedding rehearsal, and a never-ending list of errands, the day has been long. You just want to get to the room, and maybe even clock a snooze before the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Fine,” you agree, albeit through gritted teeth. “We can share a damn room.”

Santi looks visibly relieved, and squeezes your shoulder in thanks. You’d even been nice enough not to bite his head off. “Yeah. We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend.” Suddenly, he doesn’t sound quite as certain.

“Sure. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?” you smile nervously.

He returns your smile and swivels, heading back towards the desk.

“Oh, wait!” you call after him. “Is it a double or a twin?” you ask in horror. Sharing a room is one thing, but sharing a bed?

He turns, looking over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter!”, he winks. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna have to take it.”

Oh. Oh dear.

You’re inclined to agree -you don’t have many options- but when you catch yourself stealing a glance at the man’s shapely butt as he walks back to the desk, you begin to chew your bottom-lip nervously.

Right. Ha.

What could possibly go wrong?

**********************

It turns out, sharing a room with Santi is resoundingly not bad at all. In fact, at first, it’s as easy as everything else is with him - even between your hurried preparations for the evening, unpacking, shuttling items to the relevant members of the wedding party, and calling down to reception several times to check the logistics for the rehearsal dinner. Even getting dressed, you find an easy flow as you each flit in and out of the bathroom, dancing around each other with ease and only a hint of friendly bickering.

Santi’s respectful too- always knocking and announcing himself before entering a space, and averting his gaze when he needs to, given that you’re rushing around and undressing. You even manage to ignore the fact there’s only one bed for the longest time, parking that specific panic for later. Even then, he has already made reception send up extra pillows and blankets, forming a barricade in the middle of the bed so you two can comfortably separate.

Thankfully, you are so busy that the idea of sharing a bed with Santi doesn’t even cross your mind until you’re finally ready, dressed in your finery. When you step out of the bathroom, Santi -sat on the edge of said bed- stands up, thrusting his hands into his suit trousers as he takes the sight of you in, pulling the material taut -in a rather pleasing way- across his hips and thighs. He ends up slightly slack-jawed for a moment as his eyes trail over you, brewing with a gentle, self-conscious heat. “Fuck,” he says softly, his voice gruff. “You look…” a little gulp trails down his throat as you give him a little twirl. “…hot”, he says, his eyebrow ticking up on the last beat.

“Wait until you see my bridesmaid dress,” you smile, and he returns it easily, those gorgeous creases appearing around his eyes.

Unconsciously, you lick your lips. You can’t help but wonder, vaguely, what it would be like to push him down on to the mattress. Maybe straddle him. Fuck, you should have known this would be a bad idea. A heat rising in your face at that thought of that, you distract yourself by lifting his suit jacket from the back of the chair, holding it out for him as he slips it on to his shoulders, and feeling the luxurious texture of it beneath your fingers.

It’s a grey suit, tailored, and it hugs him in all the right places. The cool colour is perfect against his warm-toned brown skin, and brings out the salt in his salt-and-pepper curls, and in the rough rasp of grey flecked through his stubble.

You try desperately not to notice how good he looks, but this may be your greatest challenge yet.

“Come on,” you encourage, nodding towards the door. “We better head down.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, half-heartedly. The way his eyes are subtly roving over you, though, he looks like he has something entirely different in mind for dinner.

“You’re probably going to spend all night being chased by the single bridesmaids,” you add casually as you collect your purse, and apply a final dab of lipstick in front of the mirror. You’ve already clocked a few members of the wedding party eyeing him up, and you don’t exactly blame them for being thirsty. Besides, Santi is a huge flirt; so perhaps he’ll be the one doing the chasing. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended the night with his tongue thrust deep in someone’s throat, which -you assume- is typical Santi fashion.

“Isn’t it traditional, anyway,” he smirks cheekily, applying a splash of cologne, “for the Best Man to hook-up with one of the bridesmaids?”

Lord, does he have to smell so… edible.

“Got news for you, man. You fucked up. You can’t exactly bring a girl back to your room now, can you?!” you tease, nodding back towards your shared bed, a wall of pillows already arranged down the middle. You mean it to come out in good-humour, but you can’t scrub the hint of jealousy from your tone entirely.

You feel so silly for being jealous of whomever he may hook-up with. After all, Santi is always the one testing the boundaries of friendship with you. It’s not like he’s ever made a secret of the fact he’s attracted to you- and you are the one here will a firm line in the sand. A line you simply won’t cross with him. Can’t cross. You want to - of course you do, but after being hurt in the past, you have simply built-up far too many defences; or, more accurately, just the right amount of defences, you think, to protect you. So, no matter how disarming the man is, you simply have to keep your guard up; because if he breached your walls, you know everything else would come tumbling so easily down.

You had fallen so easily into friendship with him, and you are certain that you would fall just as recklessly in love with him.

You’re not ready for that.

You can’t take being hurt again. Besides; Santi? He’s an incredible friend. He’s tenaciously loyal and dedicated to his squad. But when it comes to love, and sex, you doubt whether serious is even his thing - and you’re too afraid to ask.

“You ready to do this?” he asks, with a wink.

“Yep,” you nod. “Let’s roll,” and with that, you turn, heading for the hallway.

“Princesa- that dress really highlights your ass,” he praises as he tags along behind you.

“Thank you, it’s true,” you smile devilishly, already beginning to let your guard down, just a little. He’s simply so disarming. “Speaking of, Garcia – did you get your trousers a size too small on purpose?”

“Oh, you noticed?” he retorts, smugly, guiding you through the door with a hand on the small of your back.

Okay. Sometimes you flirt back. After all – look at him.

Especially in that damn suit.

***********************************

The rehearsal dinner goes swell. Frankie and Mila are a picture-perfect, loved-up couple, and they grin their way through the evening as if they slept with coat hangers in their mouths. The speeches are well-received, including Will’s, thus setting a high bar for you and Santi tomorrow. (You may be biased, but Santi’s is ten times funnier, and it’s going to kill, in your opinion.) There are no dramas through the evening- logistical or familial, and thanks to you and Santi overseeing everything with a military precision, it looks as though -so far- it is shaping up to be the perfect wedding weekend.

Finally, once your duties are over for the night, you are able to let your hair down a little, so to speak, and enjoy the food and company on offer. Still, with a big day ahead tomorrow, things wind down relatively early, and -having lost track of Santi at some point- you find yourself back at the shared room a little while before him. You usually burn out more quickly than he does in social situations, but even taking that into consideration, you begin to fret about where he has gotten to. With the way he was flirting his way through the party, though, it doesn’t take a genius to guess what (or who) might be keeping him up.

You try to sleep but you can’t, your mind going to the worst places, so, by the time Santi does return -softly cracking the door, and padding in with his shoes in his hands so as not to wake you- you have stewed in your own thoughts long enough to have become a little cranky. A little… green-eyed.

“Hey,” he greets in surprise when he enters, immediately noticing the soft lamp glow, and seeing you still sitting up in the bed, mindlessly watching the flicker of the tv on mute.

“Hey,” you return, your voice noticeably strained. “Have a fun time?” You find yourself wishing you weren’t sharing a room, then you wouldn’t have to know what he got up to.

“Yeah,” he replies softly, slipping off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair. “Did you? How come you’re still up? Thought for sure you’d be wiped out by now.”

So, he did think of you, then?

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply neutrally, fixing your eyes dead ahead as he begins to slip out of his trousers and shirt too, until he’s dressed in only his tight black boxers. Next, he takes off his watch and sets it at the bedside, and you notice that he smells of perfume. A cloying, floral scent that makes you feel a little sick.

“Just gonna have a quick shower and then I’ll slip in with you, okay?” he says, his voice slow and deep and muted, matching the soft light.

You still don’t look at him. You can’t.

“Do what you want. You usually do,” you bite, the words tasting bitter as soon as they have left your lips, and tears of regret pooling as your anger dissolves.

You don’t blame him if he was with someone – you really don’t. You’re simply angry at yourself; because you wish you could be that person, and you can’t for the life of you seem to find a way.

“Okay. What was that for?” he bristles, reacting defensively, turning towards you. And perhaps it’s because it’s late and he’s tired, or because certain demons feel safer coming out under the cover of darkness, but he doesn’t stop there. Especially when all he gets from you is a stony, pointed silence. “You know what? Actually, no. You don’t get to do this”, he hisses, and it is the first time you’ve ever heard him direct any genuine anger at you.

It doesn’t half sting.

“Do what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“You don’t get to be mad when I give my attention to someone who actually wants it,” his voice is hushed, but his words rattle through you as if he had yelled them. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Guess what, I’m not yours.”

“That’s not fair”, you snap back, and then things are quickly escalating.

“Isn’t it?” he asks, rasping a hand over his stubble in distress. “I mean, come on. Shit. You know that I want more but I…” he exhales a disgruntled laugh. “You shoot me down, which is your prerogative, honestly, but you can’t have it both ways. You can’t knock me back all the time and then be pissed off when I look elsewhere.”

You meet his face, the planes of it shadowed and angled harshly with anger, suddenly so unfamiliar to you, and it causes your eyes to bloom with tears. You two look the opposite of Frankie and Mila; of a picture-perfect couple. But you’re not even a couple at all, are you?

You see him try. To blunt the emotion which is bubbling up. To soften. But he has uncorked something he now can’t put back in. “Fuck, I just wish that….” he pinches his lips together and shakes his head, planting his hands on his hips and looking at the floor. “If you don’t want me, just put me out of my fucking misery. Just say it. Just fucking tell me.”

Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the thought you make him miserable. At the way his voice breaks. At the way he thinks you don’t want him. Maybe you were wrong, thinking that you could be friends at all. Thinking that could be enough for him.

Your lower lip trembles, and your fingers clutch the edge of the blanket. “I… I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you that I don’t want you, Santi.”

You can’t because it isn’t true. It could not be further from the truth, in fact.

He puffs out air, an exasperated sound, his hand raising up to tangle in his grizzled curls. Raising his voice a little more. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me the other thing either?”

“I.. I..” You try, but no words will come. You simply shake your head, swallowing a sob, your eyes almost brimming over.

He nods. He nods, his mouth slanted down. “Great. Got it,” he huffs.

You hate this. You hate how much you’re hurting him.

“Santi,” you breathe weakly, but it is too weak to blunt the force of his emotion. To halt his trajectory, and so, resigned, he turns towards the bathroom, grabbing-up a fresh white towel from the counter. Before he closes the door, he turns to you once more, now speaking softly, his eyes as sad as yours. “You know,” he says, his index finger sawing back-and-forth over the stubble at his chin. “For the record, I wasn’t with anyone else. I can’t even fucking think about anyone else but you. I was late back to the room because I couldn’t face it.” His voice becomes small and pained. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just curl up next to you and act like I don’t care.” His eyebrow ticks up, and he adds, with a final flourish. “Guess I should have taken a lesson from you.”

Oh, how it stings, pain flowering in your chest like a bruise, but you hold yourself together until he’s out of sight. Then, when he’s gone, you immediately cave in on yourself, falling on to your side and screwing your eyes shut, clamping your hand over your mouth so that he can’t hear you crying as wet tears spill onto your pillow.

When he comes back into the room, after a long shower, you simply screw your eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. You hear him sigh heavily, and mumble something to himself under his breath, before dragging a few pillows and a spare blanket down on to the floor.

A few more silent tears roll over the bridge of your nose.

You guess you wouldn’t be sharing a bed with him after all.

***********************

You wake panicked in the night, sitting bolt upright in the bed. A cold wash of sweat over your skin chills you, even though you feel like you’re burning-up.

Immediately, you reach for him, for Santi, calling his name even as your fear strangles the sound in your throat. Your heart is thudding, and your breaths are sawing in and out of you, but your grasping hands find nothing to your side but pillows and blanket.

Unfortunately, you are used to this occurrence, and you quickly realise it was “only” a nightmare. Still, the feelings and images it conjured linger in your body, and around you in the shifting, seemingly fluid shadows of the room.

With a release of tension, you whimper, leaning forward and cradling your head in your trembling hands, and you try to ground yourself. To steady your breath and your heartbeat, like you’ve practiced. As you do so, the shadows to your left shift and change, and, even in the pitch-black you can feel him, a safe and warm presence, instantly travelling to your side, his weight dipping the mattress. His soothing, sandy voice filtering through the shadows and cutting back the tendrils of your nightmare like a Disney prince hacking through cursed vines.

You vaguely remember that he’s mad at you - but you can’t help it. Can’t help asking. “Hold me?” you plead, desperately afraid that he won’t.

Still, without questions or hesitation, you feel the wall of remaining pillows coming down, the defences around you quite literally being dismantled – a figurative wall between you shifting away along with it. He shushes you, and you focus on his voice, until he is close enough that the scent of him wraps around you, before his arms follow closely after.

You reach for him in return. You reach for him in every way possible.

“It’s just a nightmare,” he soothes. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you,” and there is pain in his voice on your behalf, as if he tries to bear the burden of it for you.

“Closer,” you plead, and before you know it, he is shifting you on to your side, slotting his sturdy yet soft body around you, not caring that you feel clammy and hot against his bare skin. He simply loops his arms and draws your back, closer to his chest, becoming your big spoon.

He calms you, hands enveloping yours and bundling them against your chest, his nose nuzzling into your hair, and his deep steady breaths slowing your breathing as you let his calm and his rhythms overcome you. He holds you, until the feelings pass, not caring how long it takes – and with any anger from before apparently forgotten.

This pain is all too familiar to him, you know. It something that Santi understands. It is your own and it is not the same as his, true, but you know it is familiar enough that he will feel the ache of it echoing in his own chest. You know that he is accustomed enough to bearing his own pain, that when yours is too heavy to carry, he will help you hold it for a while. And so, he holds you, while you are a tender thing, bruised and afraid, and he keeps you safe; with all your walls down, all of your defences collapsed, he becomes your fortress.

You never thought that letting yourself be so vulnerable could allow you to feel quite as safe as this.

As you lie together, Santi continues to usher soft reassurances into your ear, his words like charms and incantations to ward off the ghosts which haunt you. And, after a series of slow, stretched moments, you become more settled, and Santi feels you relax against him.

After a few moments more, he eventually whispers a small question into your hair. In the dark, the question feels safe to come out, perhaps.

“Do you always call for me when you…?” he trails off, thinking better of it. “I’m sorry- forget it, you don’t have to answer that.”

You don’t. You know you don’t. You don’t even truthfully know the answer. It’s likely that you do call for him, though how would you know, when you’re usually alone? But, there is something else you can tell him, while it is safe to come out in the dark. Something you want to tell him, before you build your walls all the way back up.

“Santi,” you begin, timidly, and his fingers skim softly up and down your arms, encouraging you to go on. “I-I’ve been hurt before. And, I want to be with you. I want to let you in but… I’m. I’m not ready. I’m trying so hard but I… I can’t.”

There is a long beat, and you realise he has held in a breath only when he releases it all at once, fanning hot across the back of your neck.

You are afraid. Afraid of what he might say, in response – what he might feel, but you think, maybe, it might be something like relief? And, Santi squeezes you, just a little tighter. A little closer. “Don’t worry about that now, okay?” he soothes, his voice feather soft. “Just… know one thing, okay, Princesa? Whenever you are ready? I’m waiting.”

This time your heart fills with a different emotion, all the spaces in it flooded with contentment, Santi’s words followed by a perfect, happy silence.

A soft smile blooms on your face.

It was not a confession of waiting impatiently, you understand, but an invitation to take your time to arrive at him. He’s not trying to bring down your defences at all, is he? He’s waiting for you to open the door, and invite him in. He’s waiting until you are ready. He simply needed to know that you are on your way, even if your footsteps are getting you there slowly.

For now, though, the thought of it is too much. More than you’re ready for.

So, you simply let him hold you.

To disarm you further.

To walk yourself a little closer toward where you want to be. With him; by his side.

****************************************

In the morning, you wake up tangled around each other, Santi’s arm wrapped securely around your back and your head settled on his chest. He is still snoring lightly – cutely - when you awake, and so, as the night prior comes flooding back to you, you hastily try to extricate yourself from him; even if his bare skin feels so good against yours that you never want to move. You’re apparently not so subtle- or he’s a helluva light-sleeper – as, just when you pull away, Santi wakes up, quickly rushing to prove his innocence.

“You had a nightmare,” he croaks, still trying to peel his eyes open. “You asked me to- “.

“-I know. I remember,” you reassure, sitting up in bed, the blankets tugged to your chest. Santi shuffles, opting to assume the same position on his own side, mirroring you, rubbing his eyes.

You’re still not sure whether to apologise to him or thank him. Or maybe even to wait for an apology from him? Christ. Maybe all of those things or none of them, who even knows? You mentally spin a wheel and land on a casual “Uh. Thank you, for…. You know.”

“Anytime,” he says, turning his head to the side and looking at you earnestly. As if your bickering -your jealousy and his outburst- is all but forgotten. What’s more, you know that he means it.

Admiringly, your eyes wander over him, enjoying a side of him you’ve never quite seen before. Apparently, he’s even more handsome in the morning, with an even thicker, darkened brush of stubble, his grizzled curls dishevelled, and his swooping eyelids still heavy from sleep. Combined, it gives him a sultry, bedroom look. Feeling an involuntary rush of heat in the pit of you, your gaze drops to his corded neck, where, given the special occasion, he has substituted his dog tags for a silver chain, drawing your gaze down over his smooth, brown chest.

Your skin now cooling in the conditioned air of the room, you long for his body heat again, recalling how it felt to be held by him and wishing you had lingered a little longer while you could. Even with your interrupted sleep last night, you have somehow woken feeling refreshed, as though you had slept unreasonably deeply in his arms, reaching a whole new level of contentment - as though you just fit together, perhaps. As though it comes naturally for you to be held by him, and for him to hold you.

There is a silence and it isn’t awkward exactly; more… pregnant, with possibilities. Possibilities you see brewing with a gentle heat in his eyes. So, tearing yourself abruptly away from that line of thought, you lift your phone up from the nightstand, and note that there isn’t long before your alarms sound anyway.

Operation Wedding Day is go.

That should be enough of a distraction for you, shouldn’t it?

“You ready for this, Best Man?” you ask him, with a gentle quirk of your lips.

“Sure. Are you ready, Maid of Honour?”

Ready. Are you ready?

Thoughts of last night swirl in your head.

Well – as Santi flashes you a tentative, disarming smile, with hooded eyes, you certainly feel like you’re getting there. Like soon you could be ready.

“Sure. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Atta girl,” he encourages, folding his arms behind his head as you jump out of bed.

You suddenly don’t care that you’re in nothing but your underwear, as you stretch out your body and track towards the bathroom. “I’ll shower first?”

“We’re sharing a bed,” he teases. “Sure you don’t want to share a shower too?”

You scoff, flashing a mischievous smile right back at him. You’ve always had a soft spot for his flirting, but you feel like -after all that transpired last night- you truly see if for what it is now. You realise why it has never felt like he’s pressuring you - not once. He’s simply reminding you, that as soon as you call for him, he’ll be there. That he’s waiting, when you’re ready.

Reminding you, that as soon as your walls drop, he’ll be your fortress.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get quite that lucky this morning, Garcia.”

You do linger in the doorway, just a little longer than necessary though, so that he can get a better look at you. He’d never look without permission – he proved that yesterday, when you were in various states of disarray- but this time, sensing your invitation, his eyes graze over you slowly, keenly. So, when he strategically moves his hands from behind his head to hide the tenting covers, you don’t mind at all.

You smile devilishly as you slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You’re not sure if he will… take care of himself out in the room – how could you know? But, feeling inspired, you certainly do so in the shower, and it’s a pretty great wake-up call before you face the wedding day.

Maybe sharing a room isn’t so bad. Maybe you could even get used to it.

*********************************************

Frankie and Mila get hitched without a hitch.

Santi goes to the ends of the earth to make sure that Frankie has the best day possible- and at some points, he goes even further than that. His speech was moving and flawless, and pretty fucking funny; even if you are a little (or a lot) biased. Not a dry eye in the house, just as you predicted.

The man adores Frankie with his whole heart, and you could barely hold back the glow of admiration as you listened to him, feeling like it might burst from your chest like a beam of gold sunlight. You felt it especially strongly every time his eyes met yours during the course of the speech, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself stupid each time he did so. And, of course, you were overjoyed to see your best friend have the day of her dreams, with the man of her dreams. If you do say so yourself, you think your speech was pretty killer too.

Suffice to say, you ate until your belly was full, loved until your heart hurt, laughed until your sides ached, and danced until your feet ached.

Tonight, unlike last night, you and Santi retire to your shared room at the same time, your arm linked into his, and your shoes carried in your hand to spare your sore feet – there’s a reason you never normally wear shoes like this. Without your heels though, you keep tripping over the hem of your dress almost every few paces, causing you to giggle and Santi to steady you with a warm, rich chuckle, sometimes throwing you an extra hand to assist you.

You look over at him, furtively, as he recounts some of the more choice moments from the day, immensely enjoying the simple pleasure of hearing him talk and smile and laugh. Seeing him happy. Of course, enjoying how he looks too, you have to admit - even more handsome than he did yesterday (somehow) in midnight blue dress pants, and a white, crisp shirt, now tieless. He’s only grown sexier as the evening drew on too, now with a wide open-collar and rolled up sleeves to accommodate all of the dancing; or, at least, as much dancing as his knees could handle, until he’d simply opted to sit to the side and watch you boogie, his eyes apparently transfixed on you and only you - the advances of the other bridesmaids be damned.

There is something that hits different about the way he looked at you today. His admiration shining deeper than usual. Less like a casual lust, and more like something… serious. You’re not sure why you doubted it before, exactly. Why you have been so inordinately afraid that he might hurt you. You broadly figured him for a smash and dash type of man, which is fine, but you have every reason to believe that he wants more with you.

After all, Santi can be deeply and tenaciously loyal. He has dedicated himself to things deeply and unwaveringly several times over in his life. To his country, to his missions, to his morals, to his squad. And there’s something about the way he looked at you today, you think, that suggests he might dedicate himself to you with the same tenacity. Something far deeper than appreciating how you look in this bridesmaid dress (and oh boy do you look hot). It’s more like the way he looks at Frankie. A little different to that, obviously. But you’re realising he looks at you like he’d never let you down. Not even in the smallest of ways. Like he’d rather go to the ends of the earth -or beyond- than do that.

At least… you think so.

You are sure about one thing though. The way he looks at you? It’s thoroughly disarming.

And so, you arrive at your shared room, utterly wiped out from the day (and night), yet still somehow buzzing with an energy. A gentle suffusing heat under your skin as you watch Santi walk inside and kick off his shoes at the end of the bed, before turning back towards you.

You have entered a few paces behind him, after nearly tripping on your gown all over again by the door, but now, you are quite steady on your feet - aside from that slight, nervous tremble in your quaking legs as he looks at you like that. As Santi looks you up and down, eyes skimming over the contours of your dress and hence everywhere it hugs your figure. Evidently, he likes what he sees.

“Wow,” he breathes, his brown eyes shining as if he’s looking at you for the first time that day, even if his gaze has barely left you all night. “I know it’s the bride’s day, but you look fuckin’ smokin’, sweetie.”

“You think so?” you ask humbly, suddenly feeling unreasonably shy. Flustered even.

“Yeah. I think so,” he nods, positively certain. “Shit, you’re so beautiful.”

You look at him. You look at him in a way which suggests an answer in your eyes instead of a question. A clear intention in your body, instead of uncertainty. But he doesn’t push you. He doesn’t assume. He doesn’t make a move. Instead, his mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile, offering you a lazy flash of teeth, and he shoves his thumbs into his belt loops.

“Well, we’re officially off the clock now, so I’m calling it. Well done, Maid of Honour. Think we nailed it? Made a pretty damn good team?”

A smile lights your face. You did. You flowed. You fit. It was easy.

Fuck. It feels so easy. Why had you ever thought this would be hard?

You nibble on your lip, eyeing him with intention, and a hard swallow trails down his throat in response.

“Off the clock, hmm?” you say breathily. “No more titles or duties? Huh. That’s a real shame.”

“How so?” he asks, his eyes devouring you alive, but his body fixed resolutely in place. Transfixed to the spot.

“Because it’s traditional for the Best Man to get with one of the bridesmaids, isn’t it?”

A slow, disbelieving smile inches over his face, and he looks at his feet, a little bashful. “Gross tradition. Kinda sexist,” he says, and your gaze fixates on his full, curving lips. On his hands, poised and broad at his belt.

“So, you don’t want to make out then?” you ask in your most sultry voice, mere breath.

The man huffs out a quick, broken exhale. “Fuck me. You know I do, sweetie. But only if you’re ready.”

Ready. Are you ready?

“Santiago,” you say, with conviction, your eyes dancing between his. “I’m ready.”

Santi searches your face one last time, just to be certain. He’s sure, of course – has been for a long time, but he needs to know that you truly want this. That you want this now. So, he looks at you, and he finds nothing but permission. Even so, after so long, he still can’t quite believe it. He would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe – or beyond – and, so dammit, he will ask you again.

“C-can I..” he begins, and his voice already sounds choked; hollowed out with need. “Fuck, Princesa, can I kiss you?”

Too long. Too long without moving. Without touching. Too long.

If you were suddenly ready, his kiss becomes even more suddenly overdue.

“You’d better,” you encourage, feeling like vapour. “Unless you want me to do it first.”

With permission granted, you expect him to be on you, with a surge. All at once. But Santi has been patiently waiting for you long enough. He can wait just a little longer, and, when he subtly tips his chin up, ever so slightly, and when he near growls “come here then, honey,” somehow, it is perfect. Somehow, it is a thousand times hotter that he makes you come to him.

You lift the hem of your dress, and you pad delicately towards him, feeling like you are wading through molten honey to get to him, the air thick and sweet.

“That’s it. Come here, baby,” he encourages, with a curl of his index finger beckoning you to him, his voice curling in the pit of you, making you feel weak in the best way possible. Making you feel spent before he’s even done so much as brush you with his hand or his lips.

You close the remaining distance with your steps, the anticipation too much, and your legs feeling so weak from the reckless lust and the light, liquid softness in his eyes. By this point, you are begging for his arms to reach out and clasp you- to hold you up; make you secure and safe in him. You are begging for his lips to sink down on to yours. But he makes you wait, through a few more slow, stretched moments. Makes you inch your mouth closer and closer until your lips are almost skimming his. He makes you wait until you are moaning his name into the air before he has even touched you.

“Santi.”

And, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that when you call for him, he is always there to take care of you.

You know he will take care of you.

With that, his name a plea, he swoops his broad, large hand up until he is holding you, his fingers closing around your jaw and your throat, trailing down your neck. His touch is painfully gentle, but in a way that makes you want him to squeeze, a little harder. In a way that makes you push yourself ever so subtly into his hand. A way that draws a silken moan from deep in your chest, and Santi is moved to dip the pad of his thumb into your mouth, where it meets your wet and willing warmth. When your tongue skims him, humming as you taste his saltiness, that seems to be the final straw, a wrecked groan sounding from his throat, and finally he surges on to your lips, leading with his tongue, thrusting into your open mouth and drinking down every sound and moan he can draw from you, his stubble rough against you. You don’t care if he leaves you raw.

It’s tender, and it’s gentle, but Santi knows all about control, and you can tell he’s holding back. His hands are lethal, and he knows just how to kill you softly; but, you are certain, that if you want more of his power, he’ll give it to you. That he’ll take care of you however you like.

So, he kisses you more deeply, harder, and you go near limp against him until one of his arms wraps at the back of your head and one at the small of your back, making you feel a feeble thing, waning in his arms as his large hands support you. Except; you’re not feeble though. You’re not by a long shot, and you know exactly what you want.

“Santi,” you suspire, letting him walk you back against the wall, pressing his bulging arousal into you as more wrangled sounds and little grunts slip from his parted lips.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, already sounding wrecked for you.

“There’s only one shower. Wanna share?!”

Even as he releases an endlessly eager, disbelieving breath, his eyes keenly search your face, checking you are ready. He watches, enraptured, as your lips curl into a deliciously sinful smile.

“You know. We don’t have to rush this,” he insists, even as he shivers with need, closing his eyes and biting his lip when you angle your hips to brush the tenting bulge at his crotch, ever so fleetingly, his hips bucking into you immediately in pursuit of more pressure.

“I know,” you say coolly, your body an undercurrent of frenzy, but your mind calm and sure. You push him back, with your palms to his chest, making room for you to about-turn into the bathroom, shimmying off your dress as you go and letting it waft to the floor like a sigh. Looking at him over your shoulder, with lust-blown eyes, you leave Santi stood there, entirely dumbfounded, as you reveal all of yourself to him.

You retreat, but once the water is running you call out to him, wondering where he has got to. “Take a hint, Garcia. If you’re ready? I’m waiting.”

And, he doesn’t waste another second before joining you.

THE END

(BONUS: Outfit inspo, if you wanna imagine him in the suits a lil better 😉)

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac

446 notes · View notes

asset35-maya · 3 years

Text

.When the party’s over.

>REINITIALISING…

>ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE

>WIRELESS CHARGING: 69%

>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: STABLE

>24H FILE RECOVERY: 45%

Nines slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on his side and everything around him was quiet.

>ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN IN PROGRESS…

>THREAT ANALYSIS IN PROGRESS…

Layers of fabric covered his body and something soft and warm was pressed against his face. Eyes still shut, he nudged it gently with his nose and it emitted a low vibration.

>2% THREAT DETECTED: FELINE SUBJECT

The cat sprang upwards and hopped off the surface that Nines was lying on. It was ostensibly a bed, but Nines didn’t own any furniture apart from a couch and work table. The logical conclusion was that he was not in his own apartment.

>RUN LOCALISATION PROGRAM: Y/N?

>ERROR: PROGRAM FAILED TO EXECUTE

>ERROR: MEMORY FILE CORRUPTION

Nines had no absolutely recollection of his whereabouts or how he had arrived. He had not been compromised as his system health was stable, so there was probably another reason for being completely disoriented. It was voluntary.

He had gotten the android equivalent of blackout drunk.

It was not the first time and he feared it would not be the last. Such were the hard-partying ways of his friends and colleagues. They were all terrible influences. He loved them dearly, but they were terrible.

At 6PM every Friday, Chen and Miller would start things off rather innocently. “Hey there’s a new brewery downtown.” Or “My bartender cousin just hooked us up with a thirty percent discount!”

From there it wouldn’t take long for the DPD’s resident frat boys Connor and Gavin to gather a steady crowd of officers and check out the venue. If the vibes were good (which they almost always were), Sixty would get wind of things. Then the rest of the frat house would descend and total chaos would reign until the break of dawn.

SWAT Unit 32 was famous for its particularly destructive brand of revelry. Skinny dipping in private swimming pools, scaling skyscraper rooftops and causing media scandals were all par for the course. The day after Captain Allen’s birthday, the DPD crew spent the entirety of their bonuses to repair the collapsed ceiling of the Eden Club.

Nines couldn’t remember how he exactly he was coopted into the madness. Probably peer pressure. Connor insisted that he try thirium alcohol. Sixty said that he would regret being a loser and not joining them. Gavin had just held out a hand and double-winked. That did the trick.

One night blended into another and soon Nines had worked up quite a reputation of his own. He was the Casanova of the homicide department. The handsome devil… the hunter… the sex god. People would actually come by his desk and congratulate him on Monday morning.

Nines hated it but he couldn’t stop himself from doing the same thing over and over. Perhaps it was the appreciative clap on the shoulder from Gavin the morning after Sixty posted photos of a high-end Traci model giving Nines his very first lap dance.

Life at the DPD was the epitome of work hard, play hard. It seemed like one big party but deep down Nines knew they were all just slaves to their compulsions. He wondered whether it was because they needed to celebrate every demon they vanquished or whether they needed to wipe the troubling memories of doing so.

In Nines case, there were definitely things he needed to kill within himself. Some were nightmare inducing crime scenes, but some were memories so heart-wrenchingly sweet that he thought he might self-destruct if he were to dwell on them too long. There were things he couldn’t have and things he needed to erase from his brain.

Something touched his face gently.

>PERIPHERAL OBJECT DETECTED: HUMAN HAND

>THREAT ANALYSIS: NON-COMBATIVE

The hair on his forehead was brushed aside and fingers ran over his features. A thumb swept over his bottom lip and caressed his cheek.

Nines couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and come face to face with his most recent conquest. He lay still, frozen with regret as the hand continued to stroke his face.

The hand travelled down his neck and fell upon his chest. Nines caught it abruptly. It wasn’t even the month-end and his savings were badly depleted. He couldn’t afford round two. He retracted the synth skin down to his wrist and prepared the electronic payment credentials.

Fingers merely intertwined with his.

“Just take your money and go. I’ll tip extra if you delete everything from your hard drive.”

“What the phck are you talking about?”

Nines eyes flew open. Steel blue met storm green.

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP OVERLOAD

“Fuck!”

“Wow that’s flattering.”

Nines pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in a vain attempt to remember what had led to this absolute, unmitigated disaster.

“What the hell happened last night?”

Gavin looked affronted.

“You ruined our housewarming for one.”

>MEMORY ARCHIVE SEARCH: housewarming, Gavin

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “G.REED” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:33 18 JULY 2040: Assholes. Party at our new place. Next Friday. From seven till LATE. Bring booze, bring bitches. Nah. Actually, don’t. Our landlord’s a bastard and we already got three noise complaints.

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “CONMAN” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:34 18 JULY 2040: Yeah we should keep this one PG. Bring food if you wanna eat. This mf can’t cook and I don’t care to. See y’all!!

Oh right. Fuck. Gavin’s housewarming. Gavin and Connor’s housewarming. His two closest friends who were somehow even closer to one another. Nines hadn’t realised until it was far too late and there was nothing for him to do but smother the bitterness with his favourite coping mechanisms: android alcohol and paid sex.

The circumstances definitely explained the state he was in, but things still didn’t add up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did we… did we…”

“No. Nothing happened between us. You were completely shitfaced. I just put you to bed to stop you from embarrassing yourself.”

Nines looked up at the ceiling, struggling to put the pieces together. His system offered him no useful prompts. The fermented thirium had done its job of code corruption extremely well. He looked back down and met the green eyes focused on him with deep concern.

“What did I do?”

“Sixty has videos, but I don’t think you want to see them. God, Nines… why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I’m really sorry, Gavin. I didn’t mean to ruin your night… and Connor’s.”

“He’s fine. He and Sixty moved the crew to Hank’s place. Which is what we should have done in the first place… there’s really no point throwing a party in this shoebox and telling people like Tina Chen to be quiet. Honestly if it wasn’t you it would have been her bringing the house down. Good thing they had all of Michigan Drive to tear up. Hank’s neighbours can sleep though a bombing.”

“What did I do?”

Gavin put his hand back on Nines’ face, his expression unintelligible. The human touched him often enough, but never like this. Never so intimately. Nines forced down the twisting sensation in his torso. He couldn’t get his hopes up. This was pity.

Nines braced himself to hear the worst. He prepared for the shredding of all his dignity and the collapse of his falsely extroverted and confident identity.

What came though was a soft press of lips to his forehead.

“It wasn’t pretty and I wish it hadn’t happened like that, but I think it was a long time coming… I’ve never seen you so emotional before. I’m sorry I didn’t notice anything all this while.”

“Gavin, please.”

“I’m going to focus on the positives, because really… there were a LOT of negatives. Oh boy. You… uh…”

“Gavin.”

The detective dipped his head and looked away.

“Phck, I shouldn’t be so embarrassed…

You told me you loved me.”

Nines closed his eyes. That was it. He should quit his job and move to another state. Hell, he should go to Cyberlife and request a factory reset on compassionate grounds.

“I’m so sorry. I… I should leave.”

He made to sit up, but was pushed back into the mattress. Gavin curled into his side.

“Nah. You’re good.”

“What?”

��You threw up on my plants and smashed Connor’s RA9 sculpture, buuuut you’re good.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gavin wrapped his arms around Nines and edged closer until the android was forced to turn on his side and reciprocate.

“What do you think, genius? If a guy like me doesn’t throw a guy like you out of the house after all that… what does it mean?”

“That you have a high tolerance for toxic friendships?”

“It means I want you to stick around, dipshit.”

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP RATE FLUCTUATIONS. OVERLOAD IMMINENT.

“You mean you like me?”

“Of course I do! I always have, but it never seemed right to bring it up. We’re actually really good friends. I didn’t think it would be possible when we first met but we have so much in common.”

“Bad habits for sure.”

“Come on, Nines. We’ve had a really great time together. Some of my best memories at the DPD are with you. Don’t ever quote me on it but you’re a phcking amazing partner. Can’t believe you thought I had something going with Connor when it’s always been you.

So yeah, I do like you. And I’m willing to try… I dunno… being with you. Like for real.

Stop drinking like that, though. I know I’m a hypocrite but you really scared me last night. I lost my Dad and I nearly lost Hank to the bottle. You might be this super advanced android, but that liquid courage shit is a death trap, man.”

>SYSTEM ERROR: THIRIUM PUMP AT MAX FLOW RATE. PUMP OVERLOAD. REDUCE PRESSURE IMMEDIATELY!

Nines nodded quickly and blinked away the tears that welled up in his eyes. Gavin grasped the android’s chin and tipped his face down gently. Their eyes fluttered shut simultaneously and their lips met.

>SYSTEM RECOVERY MESSAGE: THIRIUM PUMP FUNCTIONALITY RESTORED

They broke apart after several golden moments and Gavin hugged Nines tightly under the sheets.

“What am I supposed to say to the others? I don’t think I can look any of them in the eye ever again.”

“Are you serious? You got nothing on the insanity that bunch is capable of. Sixty thinks he’s hot shit with his blackmail material, but I got receipts that’ll glue his mouth shut for decades. Anyway, that’s what friends are meant to be like. You have dirt on each other but you’re not meant to use it.

The same applies to us too, by the way. Don’t feel like you gotta be… apologetic about what happened last night. Yeah, you better replace my fancy new plants but I’ll never judge you for what happened. I want you to know that I’ll always be in your corner, Nines.”

Nines hummed thoughtfully and ran a hand though Gavin’s hair, marvelling at the fact that he could now do so whenever he wanted. He didn’t say anything in response, and just settled for cuddling closer to the human.

>>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: EXCELLENT

#tw: alcholism #reed900 #happy ending #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh fanfic #detroit become human #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #dbh #my writing #my work #long post

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kass-storycorner · 3 years

Text

Oh god, okay hear me out. I suffer from insomnia and I couldn’t get Childes letter out of my head (btw the English version is so much less “I am in love with you” than the German one. He literally says in the German version that he misses us and wants us to visit him, like straight up this is a love letter!! The English version is really toned down in comparison).

So. I know his birthday is over, at least where I’m from. But. I wrote this whole ass fan fic, that is way too long, because I was so inspired by that letter. I’m not really satisfied with the ending, I honestly wanted to add so much more fluff but… I also didn’t want to make this too long, I actually planned for it to be short??? help (also it’s 4am now noooo)

Happy birthday, Tartaglia

Genre: a little bit angsty, fluff, comfort

Rating: SFW, though mentions of kissing and sharing a bed

Content warnings: mention of a family death, Bennett’s bad luck lol but both are unrelated haha

Characters: Tartaglia x gn!reader, a guest appearance of Bennett, mention of Zhongli

Word count: 2,796 words (oooh f*ck haha)

You’ve been busy the whole day doing some commissions for the Adventures Guild and were now on your way to Mondstadt, when you heard a familiar voice call your name. “(Y/N)!”, Bennett called out to you and ran into your direction. A deep sigh left your throat, while you enjoyed Bennett’s company most of the time… you had to deal with a ton of your own bad luck today. Not one of the commissions today went the way they usually did, everything that could’ve gone wrong did go wrong. It was honestly just very frustrating, although you couldn’t be really sure if it was because of bad luck or because your mind was somewhere else most of the day. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the tiredness you already felt in your whole body and made your way towards Bennett. No matter what he needed help with you would be sure you could handle it. And in that moment, as the thought of how it wouldn’t be a big deal whatever Bennett had on his chest, you saw how the young adventure tripped over his own feet and fell face forwards into the dirt. ‘Ouch, that must’ve hurt’, you thought while running up to him. “Are you hurt? Here, let me help you up Bennett”, you asked while helping him get up from the ground. All you got as an answer from him was his usual laugh and smile. “Oh man, I really didn’t see that stone. Haha, thanks for the concern though!” You couldn’t help yourself and chuckled at the way he wiped off the dirt from his clothes. “So, what’s up? What do you want from me?.” “Yeah, right! I nearly forgot!”, he exclaimed and started fumbling in his bag. “Oh, got a present for me?”, you asked sheepishly. “Kinda, not really. Here!” Bennett held a letter in his hands, both bandaged again, and stretching it out to you. “A letter? For me?”, you took it in your hands. In a fine handwriting there was your name on it. It didn’t even took you a second for you to register who’s hand writing it was. What a surprise.

Before you could even start to ask Bennett how he got his hands on the letter he was already excitedly explaining it to you. “Today I had a commission on Dragonspine and to be honest, it didn’t really went that well until I ran into this one guy. I accidentally activated a few Ruin guards and well, even the most seasoned adventurer can’t fight more than one of these at a time and sadly the newest members of Benny’s adventure team had to go home again before we made it even to the mountain.”

The thought of Bennett nearly finding his end today on Dragonspine really… it really did not sit right with you. You made a mental note to ask him later who the new members were that ditched him. After you had your talk with them they wished they had stayed with Bennett on Dragonspine. “Well, in that moment when they approached me that one guy showed up and it only took him a few minutes to defeat them all. (Y/N) that was so cool! I tried to recruit him for my adventure team, but sadly he said he was already occupied with something else. Oh man, it would’ve been so cool to have him on my adventurer team, imagine with such an excellent fighter no one would be afraid of my bad luck to join my team.” While you enjoyed Bennett’s enthusiasm you had to interrupt him. “Wait, wait, Bennett. The person who gave you this letter is on Dragonspine?”

“Oh yeah! As I was saying I tried to recruit him for my team, but failed however we talked a bit and somehow he mentioned that he knew you! When I told him we were friends he asked me to give you this letter the next time I saw you.”

You felt how the excitement in you grew. He was on Dragonspine? He was so close to you again? Now you hardly could pay attention to what Bennett continued to say, all that was on your mind was the man, whom you saw the last time months ago in Liyue was so close again. “Bennett,” you interrupted him again. “Thank you so much for the letter, but I really need to get going. Thank you so much!”

And with that you changed your direction and made your way directly to Dragonspine. “Oh? Okay, bye (Y/N)!”, you heard Bennett call after you, but your mind was already occupied with opening that letter he gave you.

With shaking hands you read what stood on that thin paper in that neat and familiar handwriting:

“Hey, comrade! How have you been? You must have traveled far and wide since we last saw each other, right?

For me, I can only seek out some entertainment for myself. These past couple of days, I’ve used a work opportunity to explore Dragonspine and seek out some local specialties. I hope they will be of use to you.

The harsh cold of the snow-capped mountains is reminiscent to the scenery of my hometown…

Sigh, I’ve had many mundane days that makes me nostalgic of our time together. Whether it’s a fight or a challenge, I always feel that having you around is what makes life really interesting.

Haha, to be honest, I’ve been planning a special day to meet up with you, today could be that chance! If you have no special plans, how about you swing by my place?

I miss you, Tartaglia”

Quickly you put the letter in your bag with what accompanied it and now you were basically running towards Dragonspine. Right now you didn’t want to think about what kind of “work opportunity” there could be for the Harbringer on Dragonspine, all you could think about was seeing him again.

It has been months since you both parted ways in Liyue. You met him while being on a commission, funnily enough it was a bit similar how Bennett ran into him today. In one of Liyues ruins you looked for a book some historian in Liyue Harbour desperately tried to get their hands on. By the amount of Mora they were willing to pay it should’ve been obvious to you that it wasn’t a one-person mission… and still, you went alone into those ruins. You had no problem in destroying the first two ruin guards you ran into, but when three activated at the same time… If it weren’t for Tartaglia back then you would probably be dead. At first you were very thankful for his help, however when you found out he was also there for the book you needed your thankfulness quickly turned into anger. “Well, don’t you think I deserve a reward for helping you out, comrade?”, he teased you.

After that day you somehow always managed to run into him in Liyue Harbour or on your commissions. Back then you only knew him by his name used by the Fatui, Childe. Though it was well known in Liyue that he was one of the Harbringers, you somehow didn’t get that message after months of openly antagonising him. Only after Childe invited himself to your usual afternoon teas with your friend Zhongli you learned about his affiliations, but also more about him. If someone was hearing two people bickering, the people of Liyue knew it was you two. However none of it was malicious. Somehow it was the way you and Childe showed each other the appreciation you had for one another.

The first dislike you had for him grew quickly into a warm friendship. And that friendship grew in something more after awhile.

The first time you noticed a change in your feelings towards Childe was around the time of the Lantern rite festival. One night you were supposed to meet up with Zhongli - but Childe showed up in his instead. Apparently, so Childe, there was a lot to do at the Parlour because of a new promotion the director wanted to try and needed Zhonglis help with, so Zhongli asked Childe to accompany you to the Lantern rite.

Until this day you weren’t sure if this was just a set up by Zhongli, but even if it was, you wouldn’t hold it against him.

That night, when you and Childe walked around Liyue Harbour and watched the lanterns something fundamentally changed between the two of you. After that night you knew so much more about him and he about you. From that day on he wasn’t Childe anymore, he was Tartaglia. And both of you finally knew how the lips of the other felt on your own.

Now you were so close again to feel his warm arms around you, to listen to the sound of his heartbeat when you rested your head on his chest and to feel his lips on yours again. Oh how you missed him too.

Parting ways wasn’t easy. Both of you knew that it was best to not be so public with your relationship, for several reasons. On the one hand the Fatui weren’t what you would call popular - most people would use some stronger word to describe them. Being a Mondstadt citizen in Liyue openly dating a member of the Fatui, yeah no. On the other it was also not really well liked by the Tsaritsa for the members of the Fatui, no matter if you were just a low henchman or a Harbringer, to get involved in that way with outsides. With “not well liked” it was more implied that she forbade any romantic relationships outside and inside the Fatui ranks when they were on a mission. And Tartaglia was on a mission, a mission you knew nothing about, but to be honest? You preferred it that way. The longer you were able to ignore what it meant for him to be part of the Fatui, the better.

So because of all of this you both decided it would be best to keep the relationship in the shadows.

You both knew for sure was that you had to part ways one day, however none of you expected that you were the one going home before Tartaglia. There were a lot of nights of laying in bed with him, sharing stories from each of your homes. You told him about the Windblume Festival and Ludi Hapestrum, he told you about the festivals and traditions of Snezhnaya. When you shared stories of how your little siblings and you loved to collect as many dandelions as possible when you were children to pretend that it was snowing in the summer, he would counteract that story with the times he built entire fortresses with his siblings out of the snow in the winter. Only to then pull you closer and whisper in your ear that he’ll show you how to do that when you come with him back to Snezhnaya. You would always whisper back “okay, but first you’d need to glide with me off Startsnatch cliff”. The lovely nights you both spend together, telling each other of your homes and how much you want to show it to them were harshly interrupted by a letter you got from your family.

Life sometimes isn’t fair. It’s hard and it brutal and it’s short. So when you got the letter from your family informing you that the youngest member of the family had died, it broke you to pieces. They were only 14. That night Tartaglia held you in his arms, his hand on the back of your head, your head pressed into his chest and none of you could say a word. Only the sound of you crying piercing the quite room. Too heavy was the grief for anything to be said anyways.

The day immediately after you received that letter you and Tartaglia parted way, a quite and sad goodbye. None of you were actually sure when you would see each other again. With his hands against your tear stained face, the tears not only being shed out of grief but also out of the pain you had to leave your lover, he promised to write you as often as he could. You promised you would answer. And then you left, wishing he could come with you. Words you did not dare to speak, because you knew he couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to.

Now you found yourself close to one of the Fatui camps on Dragonspine. It was quite irresponsible to just run up the mountain, without any proper preparation or knowledge where Tartaglias camp actually was. You sighed. The excitement of seeing him after such a long time, after just exchanging letters got the best of you. Frustrated with yourself you made your way towards the campsite, hoping that this time the Fatui henchmen wouldn’t immediately start attacking every stranger they see. However when you arrived at the camp site you saw that no one was there. Too exhausted from the commissions earlier in the day and running up the Dragonspine you let yourself fall down in front of the extinguished campfire. Slowly but surly the cold weather of the Dragonspine was catching up to you.

Going through your bag you were looking for the stones Tartaglia send with his letter, hoping to ignite a fire with them. But before you could find them you heart footsteps in the snow behind you.

You hadn’t even had the chance to turn around before you felt two arms looping around your body, immediately warming you up.

“Hey comrade, did you miss me?”

You felt his head on your shoulders and you couldn’t help but to lean your own against his. One of your hands made its way up to his face, touching his cheek. “Yes,” you whispered.

Turning your head you now looked into his deep blue eyes, they were filled with all the love he had for you. You wished he could look at you like this forever… that you could look at him forever.

Tartaglia leaned a bit forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips and you couldn’t help it but smile.

He slowly pulled away, entangling himself from the hug and holding his hand out to you. “Come, let’s go inside the tent. You must be freezing out here”.

Inside the tent Tartaglia threw one blanket on another blanket over another over you, while lecturing you on what appropriate clothing was for a weather like this. You really didn’t give it any second thought when you made your way to Dragonspine, still wearing the same clothes you would wear on a sunny day in Mondstadt. But you also couldn’t hide it how much you loved to just hear his voice, even when he was nagging you. “It’s fine really, now stop trying to bury me under all the blankets and warm me up yourself”, you took his hand and pulled him towards you onto the plank. “You know some people would find what you said very suggestiv”, he joked, joining you under the immense amount of blankets. “Mmmmh,” was the only thing you replied, completely enamoured with him having you by your side again. For a few minutes the both of you just laid there, close to each other and feeling each other’s heartbeat.

None of you could actually believe your luck to be in the arms of the other again. How much you had missed this. Missed him.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, making you look into his eyes again. “How you’ve been doing?”.

It was such a soft question and you knew what he meant. You wanted to tell him how exhausting everything has been since your arrival, how your family was breaking apart at all ends, what a shit show it all was. In your letters you only alluded to how bad it actually is. How it was all just made worse by him not being at your side. Though you knew you would have to tell him all of this sooner or later, right now you didn’t want to talk about it. Not in detail. Not when today was actually his special day. “It’s manageable, but better now that I’m here with you”, you replied to his question. “You?”

“Better, now that I have you here”, was his reply. You both smiled at each other, a warm and tender smile. Slowly you adjusted your position so that you now were laying on top of him, your chin on his chest. “Hey, there is something I forgot to tell you.”

“Oh, and what is it?”

“Happy Birthday, Tartaglia”, and with that you kissed him.

#happy Birthday Childe #happy Birthday tartaglia #tartaglia #Childe #Genshin impact #Childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin #Genshin fan fic #fluff #angst #comfort #okay I’m adding more tags tomorrow I’m tired and I want to post this now haha #well at least writing this brought me closer to dream land hurray

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ace-nlis · 3 years

Text

How they met you & fell in love

a/n: This is the first time I decided to actually write something with the intention of posting it. I hope that whoever reads this enjoys it. I'm sorry if I've misspelled anything, English isn't my first language. I hope I did well for my first writing post >.<

WARNINGS: none apart from slight violence. Female reader. Cussing.

Otherwise; fluffy content.

(Y/n) - Your name

(L/n) - Last name

Like or repost if you enjoy <3

Akaashi:

When you first met him, you thought he was a pretty boy with a resting bitch face. He is an extremely straight forward 'say it how it is' type of person and you respected him for that because it isn’t always easy to just speak your mind upfront in this day and age. He didn’t really look all that friendly or approachable, but since you were friends with Bokuto you just had to suck it up and stick around. It was pretty awkward talking to him or even just being around him at first, until you realized that his exterior was an act and he’s a total softy when he isn’t trying to call Bo out on his bullshit. You found him to be an intriguing person, but also rather intimidating. He was peaceful, he didn’t talk all that much and kept to himself like a true introvert. You were the opposite, more of an ambivert type. You tried your best to befriend him, but little did you know that friendship would spiral into something else along the line.

After a while of being friends, Akaashi got red in the ears in your presence. He was easily flustered around you, and the both of you often tended to flirt and bicker as if it was second nature. The two of you in a room together never got boring. Everyone around you could tell the two of you were head over heels for each other. You thought the opposite though, you felt that the friendship was never going to progress into anything more and that your crush was meaningless because nothing would come of it. After being friends for several months, nearly reaching the 1 year milestone, you eventually started to distance yourself.

You always thought the way Akaashi acted around you was purely just because the two of you had a close bond as friends, nothing more, nothing less. Akaashi on the other hand was devastated when he noticed the drastic changes in the close bond you both shared. He noticed that whenever he walked into a room, you’d disappear. Whenever he tried to call you, you wouldn’t answer the phone and make up some excuse that you were busy. The poor guy felt like his sanity was hanging on a thread and all he wanted was to speak to you, figure out what he did wrong and at least go back to how things once were. One day, he cornered you in an empty classroom. His eyes seemed frantic and he made sure to trap you between his arms and leave no room for you to escape so he could get answers. “(Y/n), are you okay? Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?”

It seemed like the questions that were wracking his brain kept tumbling out, and in an overwhelmed panic she stopped him. The next thing the both of them knew was that her lips were pressed to his. At first his eyes were wide and body was stiff with shock. He didn’t know how to respond, and he firmly believed that this was a dream. In her mind, she thought she had just made the biggest mistake of her life because he wasn’t responding to it, he was just standing there and embarrassment slowly started to flood her. Before she could pull away from him, his arms slackened and his hands slid down the wall beside her, eventually placing them on her hips and pulling her body flush against his while kissing her back feverishly. When the two pulled away, they were out of breath and their eyes had a dazed look in them as they locked eyes. He leaned his head against hers and sighed in relief, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he kept his eyes locked on hers. I think that’s when you both knew that there was no way in hell you’d let go of each other at any point in time because it really felt like you were meant to be together.

Oikawa:

You knew of Oikawa Tooru but you never actually wanted to be acquainted with him. To you he sounded like a total sleazebag, a player that loved breaking female students’ hearts left and right. Unfortunately for you, you just so happened to bump into him on Valentines day after having to reject a poor freshman. When you bumped into Oikawa, he thought that you were another girl ready to confess to him due to the box of chocolates in your hands and a smirk instantly made its way onto his face as he reached over to take the box. Your immediate response was to slap his hand away. If looks could kill, he sure as hell would be more than 6 feet under because you were not up for anyone's bullshit. Oikawa gasped in shock and retracted his hand immediately with a pout. “Hey! I know you. You’re (L/n), hmm. Aren’t you a friend of Iwa? You know, you don’t have to be embarrassed about trying to confess to me. I always appreciate a new follower.”

A mix between a scoff and a laugh of disbelief made its way out of you as you immediately shoved the box of chocolates into your bag. “Wow, I knew you were vain but I guess I underestimated just how much. If you think I have any interest in an asshole like you then you must be smoking something. I have no interest in being one of your petty little toys that you hold on a string. I refuse to be one of your little puppets that follow you around to show my undying admiration for someone as shitty as you. No wonder he calls you Shittykawa. You truly are a self centered douche.”

Oikawa’s face was burning red with embarrassment as she pushed past him and continued going to her class. He was astonished, shocked beyond any words imaginary as he stood there and tried to process what had just happened. Eventually he was brought back to his senses when Iwaizumi smacked him over the head and told him to stop staring like a dumbass and get to practice. “Iwa, How do you know (L/n)?” He asked suddenly after they walked in silence for several minutes, which was very unlike Oikawa. “I’m in the majority of her classes and she lives a block away from me. Why?”

“She’s weird. I thought she was gonna confess and then she slapped my hand and called me a douche.” Oikawa said, his tone was completely flat for once and Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Yeah, well what do you expect? She has better things to do than fawn over you, Shittykawa.”

*Insert offended Oikawa noises here*

Needless to say, his first encounter with you was not exactly what he would’ve liked it to be. Slowly though he tried to fish more information out on you, he wanted to understand why you weren’t like the other girls who practically fell in love with him at first sight and why you were the way that you were in general. That meant that any time Iwaizumi would meet up with you at a park to study together or whenever you guys would spend any type of time together that Tooru would tag along. Teachers thought that you were having a blooming friendship with him though and much to your dismay you ended up getting partnered with him on a school project. You felt sick to the pit of your stomach because you truly didn’t want him to come to your home, but he kept insisting and you knew that there would be no point in trying to convince him otherwise so you gave in to his stubbornness.

You felt ashamed the moment he stepped through the front door, your parents were never home and you had to take care of your younger twin siblings. The house was a mess, and that was when he understood why you had such a cold persona around others. You wanted to distance yourself from people and push them away as much as possible in order for you to not have to go through the embarrassment of looking like a train wreck to everyone else in the circumstances that you were in as opposed to your usual well put together attitude. To your surprise though, he was patient. He jumped in on helping you clean, he even helped the twins with any homework questions they had in between working on your project together and showed no judgement. In fact, he gave you a look of understanding.

After that, you were able to tolerate him more and you allowed him to visit the twins more often while even bringing along his nephew for all of them to play together. He taught them how to play volleyball while also helping you in the kitchen when you needed it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he honestly fell in love with you because of how genuine you were. You guys flirted, but it was suffocating to him like all the other girls who flirted with him on a daily basis. He only had interest in you, and you bet your ass Iwa teased the shit out of him for it. Your project got an incredible score of 100% and the two of you celebrated together by playing some volleyball even though you were complete shit at it. He didn’t care though and had fun. You found yourselves hanging a lot more often, being around each other almost 24/7 and you even met his family at some point. They absolutely loved you, and so did he.

He tried to figure out how he’d confess to you, he wanted it to be special. He wanted it to be a moment the both of you would remember because he quite honestly couldn’t see him spending any of his time with any other girl apart from you. Of course he was extremely nervous and skeptical on how to approach it, it was a 50/50 chance of you liking him back. The thoughts left his mind when he heard your voice outside a local supermarket, asking someone to leave you alone and that immediately flipped a switch in his brain. He quickly tried to look for you and found you trying to tell some tipsy guy that you didn’t want anything to do with him to which he immediately went over with his hands tucked in his pocket.

“Hey (Y/n), everything okay?” he asked as he coldly stared at the man that had been harassing you. A quiet “Oh thank god” was whispered underneath your breath as you managed to force your way closer to Tooru. He immediately wrapped one arm around your waist and kept his eyes locked on the other older gentleman that had been bothering you. The guy smirked, “Oh nothing man, I was trying to have a chat with her and she got all bitchy. That’s all.” (Y/n) could feel his body language immediately became a lot more tense, but you quickly pulled at him and tried to evade the situation. “It’s not worth it, Tooru. Let’s just go, okay? We can get some milk bread and watch movies or something.”

“I don’t appreciate the way you talk about my (Y/n)-chan. In fact, I’d advise you to leave her alone before I make you regret even breathing the same air as her. Got that?” He spoke calmly as he gently nudged you out of the alleyway next to the store. “Hey, who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Can’t just take my woman like that, dude.” This is when you truly saw how angry Oikawa could get as all he did was throw a punch and the guy was down. You could only stare in shock at what had just unfolded in front of you. “If you ever talk about her like that again I swear I’ll make you regret you ever existed.” At that he tugged you along and when the two of you were a few blocks away you grabbed hold of his hand and inspected it. “You seriously didn’t have to go that far. I don’t care what a low life has to say about me, at least I don’t live in the streets and I’ve got a roof over my head.” He remained silent for a moment before latching his hand onto your wrist and pulling you into his chest. “I’d never let anyone do or say anything to hurt you. Remember that. I’m just sorry you had to witness me get like that. I’ll make it up to you though.”

“Oh? I think a date would be a pretty nice way to make it up to me since you insisted on calling me your (Y/n)-chan” you said, giving him a cheeky smile to which he could only reply with a teasing smirk. “Hm, seems only fair after I saved you as heroically as I did.”

“Whatever you say, douche”

*insert baffled Oikawa noises here*

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