#so he just keeps inviting chay over while he's high

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I have this very silly and dumb thought that keeps popping into my mind where like. Given Kim's Anti-Drug CampaignTM in the club, Chay thinks Kim doesn't do drugs! Sure, he grew up mafia, probably surrounded by them, but no way!! And P'Wik would never spoke anything that could hurt his lungs/voice 🥺

Meanwhile Kim is just like totally, babe, uh-huuh. While absolutely gone on weed gummies.

#cookie speaks #dont read too much into this #yes there are plenty of other drugs kim can do that don't involve smoking #but i think this is funny #and weed is mild enough of a high that chay doesn't realize Kim is stoned at first #he's just super mellow and quiet and not much different from normal #maybe cuddlier #Kim decides to play a game #how long will take chay to figure it out? #so he just keeps inviting chay over while he's high #Chay is getting all of the boyfriend time and cuddles so he's not complaining

[ae-azile]

You're Invited…

Event: Tankhun Theerapanyakul's 30th Birthday Extravaganza

Theme: Roaring 20s 

Place: Hum Bar

Date: November 25th, 2022 

The digitally curated invitation arrives as a group text on Kim's phone two weeks before the date in question. When it arrives, he is strumming a tune so melancholy that it makes him feel he isn't emotionally ready to put together lyrics for it yet. Kim isn't sure why he isn't ready. Writing sad songs over the last five months has been commonplace. So common that his agent has asked him several times if he is okay. Vice is more thoughtful than his record label. His record label has only asked if he could please just write a couple of happy bops for the new album, or at least one. 

His answer to Vice?

Of course I'm okay. Why would you think otherwise?

As for his answer to his record label?

No.

Regardless, neither answer seems to please them. Not that he is used to pleasing people, at least not the people who matter to him in some capacity. It has been a habit since Ma died, likely developing as a way to rebel against and to agitate Pa, only to spread like a disease. Pa wants a guard on him? Order the guard to leave or run away if they don't obey. Pa wants him to work a mission at seventeen? Kill the shitty ally who pointed a gun to his head to make Kim comply with his demands at an event when he was thirteen, all while letting their enemy walk free. Kinn finds out the reason Kim made that decision and strongly suggests Pa add a therapist to the roster, even though Pa always said no to doing that for Khun? Make the therapist rush out of the room in tears during their first and only session, then distance himself from an extremely concerned, desperate, and apologetic Kinn.

Chay finds out Kim used him to figure out just how terrible his father is? Pretend like he isn’t bothered and leave Chay heartbroken, only to end up heartbroken himself.

While that last one left a terrible taste in his mouth, it is clearly a tactic that mostly works for him. Look at all the lonely, sad, but high-quality music he is producing. He is curating a great album for someone to play as they write a suicide note. While Kim doesn't condone that, he thinks every person should have the perfect soundtrack for any poignant life event.

Porsche: Looking forward to it! Kinn and I will go shopping for our outfits this week. 🙂

Kinn: Couple coordinated? ❤️❤️❤️

Porsche: You know it 😁❤️

Tankhun: 🤮

Kim has to agree, but keeps his own vomiting emojis to himself. 

Tay: Time and I will be there too. Happy to celebrate with you! 

Tem: I'll be there as well.

Tay: 😐

Jom: See you guys there! 

Yok: Looking forward to decorating the bar and celebrating with you, Tankhun! 🙂💜🍾🥂

Kim isn't even sure how he got Tem's, Jom's, and Yok's numbers. He probably found them and added them to his contacts when he was obsessively researching Porsche's origins on a caffeine bender. Whatever. They are in his phone now. 

Unknown Number: Okay.

Porsche: You can come, but no drinking!!!

Fuck. It's Chay's new number. 

That has Kim going from passively watching the conversation on his phone to quickly picking it up to click on the group text list and go through everyone in the chat. He has all of them saved on his phone except for two numbers and the list isn't very long. Not surprising. Tankhun went from a popular boarding school student to a traumatized, agoraphobic shut-in who cut himself off from everyone outside of the family and his bodyguards. He is only coming back to himself - or developing a new version. It is a mix of the sharp, caring, and charismatic big brother he used to have and the eccentric and over-the-top persona he put on after the kidnapping. He is both recognizable and a complete stranger, and Kim has missed him so much. 

Not that he will say that out loud. 

But maybe he can show him. He can show him that he cares and that he loves him. Kim never stopped loving either of his brothers, despite the distance he put between himself and his family. He never wanted to distance himself from Tankhun. He would have taken Tankhun with him. Kim told him they could share an apartment, even when he knew Tankhun told Kinn about why he killed one of Pa’s allies. He never blamed Tankhun for that and he still doesn't. Tankhun had just wanted Kim to get the help he was denied, even though Kim clearly doesn’t need it. Kim had wanted (and still wants) his oldest brother with him so they could get away and put all their shit behind them. 

And Tankhun wouldn't leave. So Kim left alone and he stayed that way. Alone. 

But Kim can choose not to be alone, at least for one night. He didn't realize how alone he felt, not until he came to his senses and - unfortunately - Chay came to his senses too. Maybe a party will be good for him, even though parties are never good for him. Unless he is hired to perform at one, he doesn't want to be at them. Ever. 

Apparently Chay does. Chay is going and Kim hasn't seen him in person for months. That means Kim is going too. 

Kim: Count me in. 

Tankhun: HE SPEAKS. 😱

Kim: Did you want me to ignore your invitation? 

Tankhun: Of course I didn't. I just expected you to. You better dress up in a costume.

Kim: No.

Thankhun: 🙄 Fine. Just look nice. And ACT nice. Socialize. Do not stand in a corner all night. You deserve to have fun, believe it or not. 

No. He doesn't. But he doesn't say that.

Kim: Okay.

Tankhun: …Is everything alright?

Kim stares at the text.

Kim: Why?

Tankhun: Because you are agreeing to come to a party.

Kim: I have attended parties before. It isn't that absurd of a concept.

Tankhun: Because you haven't come to the compound in months and skipped Pa's birthday dinner. 

Kim: Why would I go to that?

Tankhun: Because he faked his death so Uncle Gun would force an attack and neither of them cared if their sons were killed in their violent feud. Because our father killed his brother. Because our cousin will likely never walk again. 

Kim: Haven't you hated Vegas for years?

Tankhun: And yet I cry every time I think of how he must be feeling. Even though I hated him for years, I loved him for much longer. 

Kim: Hm.

Tankhun: Kind of like you with Pa.

Kim: It's very different, but whatever.

Tankhun: Is that why you texted me privately to accept the invite? So Pa wouldn't see your text and be more likely to come too? I seriously doubt he will come, by the way. Hum Bar doesn't seem like his thing. 

That isn't why. However, it is a plus. 

Kim: Sure. 

Tankhun: Are you actually okay? Something seems wrong.

It's a question from his agent that he regularly answers with lies. Why can't he text a lie to Tankhun? He should be able to text a one worded lie to his brother, yet his finger and thumb won't cooperate. Chay always playfully picked on him when it came to how he texted, with his left thumb and right index finger. Kim had pointed out that not all people game to the extent where using both thumbs to communicate as their go-to. Kim beat him at speed texting out the lyrics to some random song, and Chay beat him at Mortal Kombat in retaliation. 

The memory makes Kim go lie down on the couch and stare at his reflection in the dark television screen, his phone left abandoned on the coffee table. An hour later, Tankhun lets himself into his apartment and Arm makes himself scarce by going into his kitchen to make dinner for the three of them.

Kim silently wishes him luck on that front. Other than some spices in the cabinet by the stove, coffee in the pantry, and a couple of takeout containers in the fridge from who knows how many days ago, he doesn't have much else to work with. 

"Lift your head up," Tankhun says, urging him until he has enough room to sit down so that Kim's head is falling in his lap, "Let's watch a movie." 

Whatever. 

The movie in question deals with a couple gradually becoming more and more estranged. Of course it does. There is no happy ending in sight, so it is just like slowly watching tragedy unfold. Tankhun - predictably - cries his eyes out. Kim - not so predictably - cries too. But he's more subtle about it. He is actually so subtle that his brother probably doesn't even notice. 

"Kim, what's going on with you?" Tankhun murmurs sadly as Kim's shoulders shake and he soaks Tankhun's pants leg with tears.

Fine. He does notice. But Kim still doesn't respond. 

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

He needs to look good for the party. The problem is, Kim always looks good. He isn't conceited, it's just a fact. Even when he was a child, everyone talked about how beautiful he was. Ma eventually tried to redirect those types of compliments by talking about his talent and how sweet he could be. But then Ma died and Khun had to take over on that front instead. And that's a hard responsibility to hold up when you're strapped to a gurney in the infirmary and being called crazy every other month. So Kinn got to be called the new heir, Khun got to be called crazy, and Kim had been left with pretty. It's probably the most preferable out of those three possibilities anyway. 

But while Chay was likely attracted to his looks, he had been drawn in by Kim's talent. He hung off every word and piece of advice Kim gave him during their lessons. He had the courage to ask him to be his tutor. Chay looked at him with admiration and respect before he ever looked at him with hearts in his eyes, despite the pictures of Kim on his bedroom wall revealing that Chay found him at least somewhat attractive before they got close.

Chay probably tore those down. He doesn't want to look at Kim anymore. Kim knows that. If Kim were a better person, he would skip the party. It would make Chay happy, and honestly? It would be on brand for Kim. 

But maybe Kim wants to go off brand for a while. Maybe his brand of being an aloof, mysterious, and loner musician is no longer doing him or anyone else favors. Maybe he is just tired of being him. 

And maybe that's why he finds an outfit that actually complies with the roaring 20s theme. A three piece suit, complete with a stupidly expensive pocket watch. 

He feels ridiculous. He doesn't feel like himself at all. 

Good.

Except Kim got dressed too early. He doesn’t want to go back to his apartment like this. And part of him knows that once he goes back home, he may lose the gull to go back out. So maybe he will continue acting out of character. Going to Hum Bar early to help his brother decorate seems out of character. 

So that's what he does.

"Kim?" Tankhun says as soon as he comes through the doors before his eyes widen, "What are you wearing?"

Kim looks down at his clothes, "Do you want me to get clothes from my car?"

"Nope, no need," Tankhun says, then comes over to put his arms around him, "You look very nice. Handsome, actually! What do you think of my tux?"

Kim gives his oldest brother a once over. Tankhun had strayed from his own personal norm even more than Kim did. 

"It looks great," Kim tells him, causing Tankhun to beam brightly, "What do you need help with?" 

"Well," Tankhun says, glancing behind him, "Arm and I are arranging the feather bouquets. Pol and Yok are stringing the black and gold ornaments together. Why don't you put together the placemats? We'll have dinner and cake first, then the fun can really begin. Thank you for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it," Kim says, even though that would normally be a lie. Tankhun hugs him again regardless, "Happy birthday, by the way." 

Tankhun gives him a small smile, then takes a step back, "I hope it is. Now, come on! Let me introduce you to Yok."

Kim has a weird urge to let Tankhun know he knows a lot about Yok, both from Chay's fond comments about her and Kim's own research (disowned by her family, knows four languages, and has a childhood sweetheart who pointedly left the country with their son once Yok came to terms with her gender and decided to transition, which explains why she is so protective over Porsche and Chay and mothers them).

Instead, he just nods and tries to smile warmly. She seems like a nice person. She deserves warmth. She is kind to Tankhun and a very welcoming presence. Going by her interactions with his brother, Arm, and Pol, she has made friends with them. Right now, she's laughing at some joke Pol made that Kim doesn't really get but she clearly does. 

Going by how closely Khun and Arm are talking, they seem closer too. 

Weird. Although, Arm is now Khun's head guard, so maybe it isn't. Yet for some reason, watching them makes Kim feel out of place. But he snaps himself out of even attempting to analyze the situation further. Tankhun has often befriended his guards, a habit that could be heartbreaking for his brother, but beneficial because it is hard to make friends when you don’t leave the house. Maybe he is just closer to Arm than he has been to any other guard.

He feels alone. 

When Pete walks through the door, Kim is actually relieved. Because as misplaced as Kim feels, Pete has to be feeling ten times worse. 

"Pete?" Tankhun says hopefully, only having eyes for his ex-head guard as Pete cautiously walks into the bar, "You never texted back. I thought…We didn't know if…"

Pete breathes in and gives Tankhun a sad smile, "I just wanted to stop by to give you your gift and tell you happy birthday."

Tankhun nods, then glances down at the wrapped gift and cards once Pete hands them over, "You could stay, you know."

Pete just shrugs, keeping the sad smile on his face, causing Arm to step in. 

"We miss you, Pete. So much," Arm tells him, coming to stand next to Tankhun, "Why don't you just stay for dinner?"

"...I can't," Pete says eventually, "Vegas and Macau are waiting in the car." 

"...Oh," Arm says quietly, then says nothing else. What else could he say? Kim wouldn't know how to handle it. Vegas has been a sensitive topic for Tankhun for years. And after what happened, there is no way-

Tankhun lets out an unbothered sound, "That's fine! If you're worried about Macau being underage, Chay is coming too! Chay is just a year older than Macau and he needs a friend with everything going on. I am sure Macau is in a similar situation. They can chat. Get to know each other."

It's a shocking offer to hear coming out of Tankhun's mouth, even by Kim's standards. Going by Pol's and Arm's expressions, they are flabbergasted by it. But despite the thoughtfulness of the offer, Kim doesn't like it. He doesn't like the idea of competing with Macau for Chay's attention. He needs to figure out a way to talk to him, and Macau being there will give Chay a reason to ignore Kim in favor of pointedly focusing on a new potential friend. Because Chay is really great at that now. Ignoring Kim. 

It is a selfish and stupid thought. Toxic too, because Tankhun is right. Chay deserves to have friends who understand what he is going through. But Kim is tired of trying to earn Chay's attention and he doesn't want to compete with Macau. He never did. 

"Vegas is still in the car," Pete says, looking away from Tankhun. 

Tankhun purses his lips, "This place is very accessible. No steps, wide doorways. Vegas should be fine to join us."

It's an even more shocking offer than inviting Macau. But it does show how desperate Tankhun is to have Pete here.

"He…" Pete starts, still looking off to the side, "Vegas is still getting used to things. He doesn't…The wheelchair is a sensitive topic for him. It is hard enough to get him to leave the house for appointments. I was lucky to get him to agree to his therapy intake this afternoon."

"Therapy intake?" Tankhun asks, his voice a murmur, "Porsche said Vegas has been in physical therapy since waking up from his coma. He said you told him Vegas goes on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays."

Pete nods, then clears his throat, "Not that kind of therapy."

Tankhun stares at him, then nods too, "Oh. That…That's good. He has probably needed that for a long time. And he probably especially needs it now."

"Probably so," Pete vaguely agrees, then glances down at the gifts, "One of those cards is from him. He…wanted to tell you happy birthday. Apologize. Get some things off his chest, I think. He had me read it to make sure it sounded okay. It's respectful. Heartfelt. Just…Make sure you read it with an open mind and when you are ready. Don't feel like you need to open it tonight. Enjoy your birthday. I know me showing up is probably stressful enough-" 

“It’s not stressful, Pete,” Tankhun says, his voice strained, “It’s appreciated. I invited you because I wanted you here. Almost everyone I invited is someone I want in attendance. Almost. But believe me, you are not the exception.”

If anyone else in the room knows who it is, they don’t comment on it. 

“Please stay?” Tankhun says, but Pete is already shaking his head, “Please?”

“...I’m sorry,” Pete tells him, his expression pained and guilty, “Maybe…Maybe I can call you soon? We can…We’ll catch up.”

Tankhun looks at Pete with teary eyes, then finally nods silently in agreement and accepts one last hug from him before Pete takes his leave.

“I just need a minute,” Tankhun mutters, then quickly walks to one of the bathrooms. Kim isn’t sure what to think when Arm only gives him two minutes before following him. A part of Kim wants to chew him out and tell him that his brother has a right to be alone if he needs it. But when Kim goes to the door to do just that, he overhears them. 

“I know,” he hears Arm murmur as Tankhun cries, “I know you wanted him to come.”

“He doesn’t even answer my texts!” Tankhun sobs, “I thought he was my friend. He was my o-only friend for so long! And he won’t even TALK to me!”

“Khun, a lot has happened,” Arm says gently, weirdly referring to his brother personally, “It’s only been a few months. We’re all still raw from everything. That includes Pete. Give him some time. I know you miss him. I miss him too.”

“This is Pa’s fault! Pa did this! I just…I don’t…”

“I know,” Arm says again when Tankhun trails off.

And as much as he wants to see if his brother is okay, Kim lets Arm handle him and goes to pull out his phone.

Kim: How are you doing?

Macau: Why?

Kim: Idk.

Macau only responds thirty minutes later.

Macau: Horrible. Better than ever. I don’t know, man. P’Pete is a fucking saint though. I don’t care if we’re Buddhists. He has earned sainthood because he is a miracle worker who is somehow making Hia happy despite the circumstances.

A minute later.

Macau: How are you doing?

Kim just presses down on Macau’s message and reacts to it with an abacus emoji. It’s the most random one he can find. He expects Macau to be confused or tell him he’s the weirdest person he has ever known. Like he did before, back when their mothers were alive and their brothers liked each other. 

Macau: That bad, huh?

Kim leaves him on read.

To read the rest of this one-shot, go to:

#kimchay #kinnporsche fanfic #kimchay fanfic #kimchay fic #kimchay fanfiction #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #kpts #implied ArmKhun #tw: depression #tw: implied abuse #tw: grief #heartbreak #getting back together #tw: eating issues #IWCCCIJLHWY #kinnporche the series #tankhun theerapanyakul #kinn theerapanyakul

[miekasa]

iced tea

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, levi is the best not yet boyfriend au, erwin would definitely be an insufferable project partner to have but you gotta love him au

+ summary: there are three rules of night class. come on time, come prepared, and come with snacks. you forget about rule number three. luckily, levi’s there to save the day.

There’s only one appeal to signing up for a three-hour night class, and it’s that you only ever have to muster up the will to attend once a week. It’s a sacrifice, but it definitely cuts down on the temptation of skipping like you would a normal, one-hour section course. Just one and done.

Plus, you have Erwin with you in this class. Is he a little bit of a professor’s pet and consistently overly chipper every class despite knowing he’s about to endure 180 minutes of lecture? Sure, but at least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Really, it’s not as bad as it sounds, especially if the course is interesting enough, or easy enough, and luckily for you, yours is both. Not to mention, your professor is brilliant, actually entertaining, and does her best to keep the class engaging—she’s funny in the dorky, lovable professor kind of way. And she gives you short, ten to fifteen minute breaks at every hour mark just to make sure everyone doesn’t completely lose their minds.

It’s a commitment, but you’ve grown to actually enjoy it. As long as you follow the three rules of night class: come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with—

“Fuck,” you curse, watching as Erwin pulls out one of his many, tiny, organic, boxed juices. The ones meant for children with soy sensitivities that Erwin claims are packed with more nutrients.

“What’s up?” He questions, more shocked than concerned, at your sudden profanity as he sets his juice box in the right corner of his desk.

You pout. “I forgot to bring snacks.”

Come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with snacks. Those were the only three rules of night class, and you’d completely forgotten about the most important one.

“Oh,” Erwin grins, pulling a chocolate bar from his lunch bag and taunting you with it, “Sounds like a you problem.”

You snatch a piece from the top corner, stuffing part of it into your mouth to spite him; but you regret your choices as soon as it melts on your tongue.

“What the fuck—is this mint chocolate?” you complain, swallowing the rest of the sweet with disdain.

“Yes it is,” Erwin huffs, grabbing the remaining stolen bit from between your fingers and popping it into his mouth, “And it is delicious.”

“You’re an actual menace to society.”

Erwin crinkles his nose at you, “A menace to society with snacks for the next three hours.”

His comment makes you groan, albeit a little dramatically, and you slump back in your chair to debate your options. Class doesn’t start for another twelve minutes; you could try and run to the student center quickly to buy some last minute snacks, but the line was probably already lengthy with students of similar trains of thought, meaning you’d be late if you stuck it out, which would leave you violating rules one and three tonight. Erwin makes you sit in the front row with him, and you were not willing to take the late walk of shame with an armful of snacks in tow.

You could wait it out until the first hour break, but they’ll probably be sold out of anything good by then, not to mention the race to beat out the line again. If you played your cards right, you could order food during class and time it so that it was delivered during your break, but that was risky.

Alternatively, you could try and sprint to the concessions stand near the library, but going there and back was so much further away than the student center; you’d probably end up late, too.

“Hey,” you call to Erwin, refraining from rolling your eyes as he sets all six thousand and twenty eight of his colored pens on his desk for the evening, “Is Hange still on campus?”

“No, they have work today.”

You groan. Why did Hange have to be so responsible and good with their time-management skills. They was your last hope. Unless—

“Do you think Levi will bring me Starbucks?”

“Probably,” Erwin shrugs, humming to himself; but then he thinks it over, replying again with a knowing smirk on his face, “Actually, definitely. If he’s still here, but he probably is. You know him.”

You pout, the possibility of Levi being home is high, but so is that of him being cooped up in his favorite library. Either way, he would likely be studying right now, and you’d hate to disturb him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

[sent 6:47pm] you — leeevaaaaaaaaai are you still on campus

[received 6:47pm] leeevaaai — yes — why, what’s wrong

[sent 6:47pm] you — uwu — wanna bring me something from starbucks before class — i have my 3 hour lecture today and i forgot snacks :—( — and erwin won’t share his organic $1500 whole foods gummy bears with me

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — i told you i don’t like the smileys with the noses, they’re ugly — should you even be drinking coffee this late, you’ll be up until the ass crack of dawn

You scoff audibly, and Erwin takes this as an invitation to peep at your screen. Your comment about his snacks does not go unnoticed, as bitterly munches on his (yes, in fact, organic and gluten-free, as if it being mint flavored wasn’t criminal enough) chocolate bar.

[sent 6:48pm] you — that’s RICH coming from you mister

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — you’re being awfully rude to someone you expect to buy you a $7 drink

[sent 6:48pm] you — hehe sorry i loooove you leeevaaai — venti iced chai latte — light ice

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — do you think i don’t know your overpriced starbucks order by now

[sent 6:49pm] you — uwu :—)

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — but you’re getting a grande, i’m not made of money — and it’s punishment for sending another ugly nose smiley

[sent 6:49pm] you — un-uwu

“I don’t blame him,” Erwin chuckles, scrunching the wrapper from his now finished bar between his fingers.

You flick him away, ignoring the turning heads of your classmates as Erwin’s pens fall in the aftermath. It’s seven o’clock on the dot when your laptop pings loudly with an incoming message from Levi—and a subsequent groan from Erwin, who breeches your personal space once more to press the mute button on your keyboard.

[received 7:00pm] leeevaaai — where are you sitting

[sent 7:00pm] you — front row to the right — erwin’s idea not mine

Levi spots Erwin’s bright blonde hair before he sees you, scoffing to himself as he makes his way to the front of the room; a tray with three Starbucks cups, and a plastic bag in tow. Erwin sees him first, too, waving at him as he crosses from the left side to where the two of you are seated.

“Aw, Levi, you brought me one!” Erwin all but squeaks, reaching for one of the other drinks with grabby hands after you take your iced drink from the tray.

But Levi pulls one hot drink from the tray for himself, and pulls the remaining one out of arm’s reach. “As if,” he grumbles, bringing his own cup to his lips. 

“You’re the best, Levi,” you smile, sticking your tongue out at Erwin. Levi only offers you a small nod as acknowledgement. He extends his left hand now, the plastic bag sliding off his wrist and onto your desk, silently.

Confused, you lean forward, setting your drink down to open the contents of the bag. Inside, there are two granola bars, a bagel, cream cheese, some kind of sandwich, and a small Nutella to-go cup with mini breadsticks attached. When you look back up at Levi, he simply shrugs, sipping on his drink again while a light pink dusts over the tips of his ears. 

“You said you forgot your snacks,” he explains, “I knew you’d text me the whole time, bitching about how Erwin wouldn’t share his zero-calorie lemon rinds if you didn’t have your own.”

You take note that the chai he brought you was, in fact, a venti, and not a grande like he’d threatened, and that the granola bars in the bag are not only your favorite flavor, but from your favorite brand, too; and you find yourself smiling as you decipher the very clear message underneath Levi’s less than poetic words.

“What’s in the other cup?” Erwin asks, pointing at the remaining drink. Levi carefully lifts it from the tray, and sets it down on the other corner of your desk, a safe distance away from your laptop.

“Tea,” he says shortly, “So you don’t lose your mind after inhaling your coffee.”

“This is tea, too. Chai is tea, Levi.”

“Tea without milk or six kilograms of sugar,” Levi corrects you, “Or ice.”

“Iced tea is tea, you know.”

Levi doesn’t respond to that with anything but a glare. You smile at his stoicism. Erwin thinks the whole exchange is kind of weird, and wonders where you possibly get the gall to make fun of his taste in snacks when you can’t even realize you’re in love with a man who refuses to identify iced tea as a valid form of tea. 

“I better go before she starts,” Levi speaks, a single hand referencing to your professor behind him, who looks just about ready to begin class for the evening, “Call me when you’re done, I’ll drive you two home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, Erwin and I usually take the b—”

“Brat,” Levi cuts your words short, “Call me when you’re finished. I’ll be in the library.”

You throw daggers at him with your eyes, but your resolve is waning, once again, as you closely read at the implications of Levi’s promise. You accept, and Erwin is more than happy for the free ride.

Levi hums. “And eat the bagel before the Nutella.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m a saint,” Levi deadpans, placing the palm of his hand on the top of your head affectionately, “Call me.”

He walks away before you can debate again, just as your professor speaks into the microphone to grab everyone’s attention. You scrunch your nose, hands flying to your hair to smooth out the aftermath of Levi’s playfulness, before opening your notes for the evening.

“You’re really dense aren’t you?” Erwin asks, one eyebrow raised, but the overall look on his face is more than fond, “It’s kind of cute.”

“Huh?” you question, cheeks stuffed with food as you bite into your bagel, “Dense about what?”

Erwin shakes his head, turning back to laptop with an exasperated expression, the fondness in his eyes fading quickly. “Hopeless,” he mumbles, “The both of you.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #levi fluff #levi smut #erwin x reader #eren x reader

[fuckyeahmoriharu]

In This Corner

In This Corner | MoriHaru | SFW | 2k word count Love can begin in the most unlikely of places but stranger still, it can flourish in a place long forgotten. Now in university Takashi and Haruhi choose to meet where the light doesn't reach, where students never wander, where dust collects and book spines age in shadow. Sweet kisses, honest smiles, and requited feelings thrive in this corner.

Light was sparse in this corner of the grand library, one of few dark corners hidden far between the elegantly arranged shelves of texts and literature. Social couches, well lit tables, and an inviting floral atmosphere with potted plants and flower vines hanging from painted ceilings centered the library where students would normally gather for quiet study. The thick aisles of books mazed throughout the space leaving little welcome within its far shadows.

However, in this dim corner tucked away behind the oldest shelving in philosophy of law, where the nearest window faced a moss covered concrete wall and towering bookshelves walled them into the shadows, was where they found their solace.

Satchels placed against the wall, textbooks and notebooks opened to corresponding pages, and a blanket to soften the dusty carpet, set underneath the one ray of light that snuck past its many obstacles. It was their little corner of peace, of quiet, of earthy cologne and strawberry spritz.

They had claimed this corner for themselves, seeing it as all but abandoned by their university populace. No one cared to stroll though the law section of the library since most of the books shelved here were outdated and no longer required in class, skeletons of education’s past.

It was perfect for them, a quaint space in the universe held only for them, a haven they could step into and step out from the stressful responsibilities of being university students on the brink of graduation and just beginning.

Haruhi absentmindedly bit her bottom lip as she read over the same worded question, trying to make sense of what it asked her. A black compound notebook sprawled across her lap, balancing on her crooked knees, with her pen held in a lazy grip while she tapped it’s end on the paper’s edge.

She felt his weight shift beside her, inching closer to peer over her shoulder. He sat relaxed with one arm perched on a bent knee and the other slung over her shoulders, his long fingers gingerly tracing her goosed skin.

“In case of any misstatement in the prospectus, the persons liable are; promoters, directors, or experts,” Haruhi read out loud, pausing her methodic tapping, “I don’t understand what it’s asking me.”

Takashi leaned a little closer, barely brushing his lips against her ear, not seeing the blush creeping up her neck at the feel of his skin, and mouthed the words as he silently read them.

“What do you not understand?” He asked, his breath carrying remnants of his earlier chai brushing her flushed face.

Haruhi leaned into his closeness, letting her cheek find a curve in his side beneath his tented arm, and sighed, “It feels like a trick question because all the answers are right, yet there’s no option for multiple choice. It’s like I have to choose one of the right answers.”

Takashi nodded, having to agree. The correct answer would be to choose them all but unfortunately there wasn’t the option. He thought whoever wrote out the textbook assignment had forgotten this one crucial detail.

Haruhi gripped her pencil and began to write in the white space between the question and answer options. Her fist blocked his view until she was done and moved her hand away. There in small lettering she wrote; answer not available, all of the above.

Takashi smiled and rubbed her arm approvingly while she bookmarked her notebook before closing it and returning her pencil to the side pocket of her satchel.

“You’re done for the day?” He asked her, raising an eyebrow as he watched her work to pack everything up. His own textbooks lay beside him on the floor, stacked in volume order. He always brought his old textbooks in the rare case she needed to look something up, which has happened four times already. They were bulky, heavy, cumbersome, but he still chose to bring them every time they met to study. The strong kendoist didn’t mind, he’d carry an entire library on his back if it meant to see her again.

Haruhi nodded, her back turned to him while she organized the space in her satchel, “I’m pretty tired after today so I don’t have a lot of brain power to push through the last set of problems. I’ll finish them after a nap.”

Takashi grunted in response, not needing to say more than his acknowledgement. University demanded more than their astute intelligence. For Haruhi to keep her scholarship for Ouran University she’d have to continue her striving efforts to remain at the top of her classes. Although her friends were more than willing to offer their own money toward her education to relieve her of such liability, her commoner pride wouldn’t allow herself to fall back into their debts. She had already learned that lesson once.

“Oh!” Haruhi nearly jumped as she suddenly sat up, remembering a very important detail to their afternoon. She twisted herself around to face her startled boyfriend, for a moment finding his jarred expression humorous. She beamed triumphantly, “I got a question right.”

Takashi relaxed into a soft smile and nodded. She had chosen the right answer, although it hadn’t been listed for her to choose.

She twisted herself around to face Takashi again, her knee brought against the wall as she scooted from her satchel. Takashi didn’t have to move, only to wait for her to still herself, until she was comfortably sitting in front of him.

The dim light in their corner allowed enough for reading their textbooks, nothing more than hazy sunlight filtering between oak and stone. However, as Haruhi sat in front of Takashi, nervously rubbing her knees, her bright chocolate eyes still shone as glimmering pools of honey. Her lengthening hair nicely framed her maturing features, allowing this young maiden who had once been mistaken as a boy to flourish into a beautiful young woman. She sat before him with expecting eyes, watching between his gaze and his lips, her patience beginning to wear thin as her knees ran red beneath her palms.

Takashi allowed a smirk as he bent over, glancing from her pools of honey to her soft lips beginning to purse. He couldn’t deny her just rewards after getting a correct answer. She was driven enough to take her assignments seriously but his minor incentive helped soothe the headache of fussing over strongly worded questions and mathematical equations that eventually blended into blurs. A sweet kiss for every correct question, promptly delivered after she’s finished scribbling in her notebook.

His lips met hers, gently pressing soft skin against the shine of cherry chapstick. A slight shift enough to snare her bottom lip coaxed a humorous moan from her throat.

He pulled back, fixated on her satisfied half-lidded eyes but was stopped short when he felt her fingers tug at his university vest.

“Technically I got three answers correct.” She whispered with a conviction, darting between his stone gray eyes and his parted lips, catching a shimmer of her chapstick where he kissed her.

His smile widened as he considered her suggestion, resisting the urge to laugh at her quickwits. She would make a fine lawyer one day.

He leaned forward and replaced his lips against hers, pressing in his adoration and reverence for his keen girlfriend. She never failed to surprise him with her canny observations, sometimes her remarks even making him uncharastically burst out laughing.

She liked his laugh, as she had said many times before, stating his baritone carried it well.

He placed fleeting kisses as she moved to keep pace, remaining a step ahead amidst her following his rhythm. One kiss, two, three, four, five, losing himself in the familiar high that was Haruhi Fujioka kissing him back until he knew he’d given more than he’d needed to. His hand lifted from its perch on the floor to find her chin, moving his fingers to cradle her blushed cheeks and feeling her smile within his calloused palm, swatting away the modesty tugging at his propriety because frankly he didn’t give a damn.

In this corner of the library, where only flies happened to cross, their privacy was held safe behind dusty bookshelves and unflattering windowed views. Where light seemed scarce compared to the brightly jovial center filled with lively hushed chatter and foliage bringing the beauty of nature indoors. Where students wisely chose to congregate.

In this corner of the library a rare beauty pulsed to life, growing with strength and solidity with every kiss, every smile, every quiet laugh, and every ruffling of hair as they could manage to fit into one evening. A flickering flame; fragile as the single ray of sunshine that caught the golden stars scattered throughout her chocolate eyes yet strong as the Morinozuka’s undying loyalty that forever coursed through their veins.

In this corner of the library, where dust collected under the shadows of long forgotten shelves filled with outdated books, where the skylights and fluorescents barely skimmed this corner so out of reach, where no one cared to walk through for there was nothing for them to find, this was where true love in its purest form grew. Like a spring sapling, roots forged in their days of the host club and grabbing purchase amidst fond memories and secret feelings.

At first they dug their heels into their friendship, unwilling - or too afraid - to dare cross the line that tempted them with every shared strawberry and gracious head pat. However, like every young sapling, the seeds that were planted needed time to grow, to strengthen its foundation before it could bear fruit.

Haruhi pulled away, dragging Takashi on a kiss’s tail, and flattened her palms against his chest. The sun would set soon, what little light they had would fade, and she began to feel the lull of much needed sleep. Kisses always tasted sweeter at the edge of conclusion.

Takashi caught his breath as he slowly retreated, pressing his forehead to hers to keep her close. His fingers lazily traced her face while his hand fell away, releasing her from his intimate hold. A part of him never wanted to let go, to forever keep her safely tucked inside his palms. To have and to hold…

Haruhi folded the blanket while Takashi situated both their satchels on his left shoulders and his pile of heavy textbooks with the crook of his right arm. No matter her protests he insisted on relieving the burden, allowing her to carry the blanket on what she considered an unfair compromise. He had to smile upon seeing her captious glare comparing their differing loads but she chose not to speak on it. At least this time.

Together they left their corner, skirting around study groups hunched over tables and freelance vines nearly touching the floor. Bright skylights and lively whispers, a refreshing ambiance far contrasting where they had spent their last hour. However their tired smiles held no regret, content with returning the next day.

Takashi held the heavy oak door open for Haruhi, keeping it open for a group of young seniors entering the library just as they left; nodding their appreciation as they walked beneath his arched arm. He rejoined Haruhi’s side in the marbled hallway and together headed toward the nearest exit. Takashi’s apartment was closer than Haruhi’s dormitory this way but he insisted on walking her back, arguing her safety was more important than his convenience.

Haruhi checked his hold on the satchels and textbooks, searching for signs of struggle as she normally unconsciously did each time they left together. Takashi knew to treat it as her courtesy. She seemed to forget he’d spent the larger portion of his life in his family dojo.

Haruhi broke the minute silence blanketing their clacking steps, “I’m not very tired anymore.”

Takashi looked down, meeting her gaze and immediately seeing the tell-tale signs of exhaustion in her relaxing features. An arched eyebrow begged the question she knew he’d ask.

Haruhi shrugged, breaking eye contact to check their surroundings, “I’m just saying I don’t need a nap anymore. I guess I just needed to stretch my legs.”

Takashi jostled the satchels further onto his shoulder and allowed a smile to betray his skepticism, unable to hide his relief in their evening far from ending, “Mitsukuni brought back uji tea from his visit in Kyoto. He gave me a bag. It’s at my apartment.”

“At your apartment?” Haruhi didn’t need to ask, already knowing his answer before she finished speaking.

Takashi nodded with an affirming grunt, neither hiding his enthusiasm. He learned to cherish every moment with her when in high school he had to share her among friends and eager suitors alike. As the years passed those suitors slowly fell away at her kind rejections until Takashi was the last one standing among them. Until one day he realized he had gained her undivided attention just as she had stolen his many tears ago.

Haruhi turned to meet stone gray eyes that seeped into oblivion, the deepest shade of requited love, and smiled, “Tea sounds lovely.”

#moriharu #mori x haruhi #haruhi fujioka #takashi morinozuka #takaharu #ohshc ship #ohshc otp #ouran high school host club #university au #fanfiction #oneshot

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Five

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of war, military technicalities, slight angst, fluff, implied smut

A/N: Well Hello! Our dear Captain Alex has finally made an appearance! A big thank you to @thelastsock​ who is patiently beta-reading this, I love you woman with my whole heart.

<Chapter Four

Title: Chapter Five

The sun felt scorching hot on her skin as Olivia loaded her gun near the parked Humvees. A mild throbbing at the base of her skull added to the uncomfortable sensations each time she moved. She hadn’t planned to drink almost half a bottle of whiskey last night, but it was cold, and she needed the warmth.

Also, the drink had sort of been a gift from Sy.

Olivia groaned as the memories from last night flashed through her mind. She had literally invited him for a kiss, throwing herself on her Captain like a wanton whore. She felt embarrassed even thinking about it. Thankfully for her, Sy had a better judgement about entertaining drunk women and had resorted to just giving her a tight hug.

Her stomach felt queasy as a sour taste filled her mouth. She swallowed as the uncomfortable feeling set at the pit of her stomach. Running a hand over her sweat covered forehead, Olivia rested against the vehicle.

She felt worthless. Olivia couldn't shake the feeling of repeating history, despite the extreme effort of will she put her hungover mind to this time. She slung her gun over her shoulder as a distant memory of her time with Alex began flashing before her eyes.

The sound of their hurried footsteps on the marble floor echoed through the empty hall. It was almost noon, the temperature soaring high and drinks becoming difficult to keep down. Alex chuckled as Olivia pulled him towards a bathroom door, not caring whether it was for the ladies or the gents. She had been begging for Alex’s attention ever since they got to the wedding party for a fellow soldier, downing an unusual amount of alcohol before finally gathering up the courage to whisper naughty things in his ear. She had been hung over her Captain for far too long, it was time for her to finally taste him.

Olivia massaged her temple with her fingers. She had been so stupid and naïve to start something with Alex. Her Captain. She regretted it now more than ever, 3 years of hookups later. Alex had been her friend since she re-enlisted again after completing her Aviation course. Though to tell the truth she'd been crushing on him since she first laid eyes on his beautiful face. His unbridled confidence, panty-melting smile and boyish charm had worked its magic on Olivia’s mind. It wasn’t something she thought of pursuing on a long-term basis, but his sweet nature only kept driving her closer to him. She liked that he showered her with affection all the time, something her attention-starved mind craved desperately. Only she had mistaken her lust for love.

“Really? Here? You know our seniors are present out on the lawn.” Alex snickered as Olivia began undoing his belt. His blazing eyes sparkled with what was to come next, the anticipation dancing in his beautiful orbs. Dinners together had turned into overnight stays and eventually Olivia had kissed Alex one night, crossing the line of friendship with no turning back.

“We are on leave, aren’t we?” She had suggestively smiled at him, palming his bulge through his pants. She leaned in to kiss Alex, feeling the softness of his lips brushing against hers. She felt her arousal beginning to wet through the thin fabric of her panties as Alex plunged his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth.

Olivia grinned mischievously as she hopped on the sink counter pulling Alex by his tie to stand between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pulled her in to steal another kiss. She unzipped his pants as Alex began trailing down her neck, planting soft kisses over her warm skin and cupping her breast through her dress.

“I don’t have a condom,” Alex said against the skin peeking just above her breast.

“I’m on the pill,” she shrugged and pulled his hardening cock out of its constraints. It pulsated in her hand as she pumped him. Alex groaned into her soft skin and nipped at her in retaliation, making her hiss with pleasure. She bit her lip as she watched him take over his cock and enter her aching folds. Alex let out an unrestrained moan as her warmth enveloped his throbbing member.

“Happy birthday, little birdie.” Olivia blinked as Sy appeared in front of her, smiling from under his cap. He was dressed in his combat fatigues, the vest making him look bigger than he already was. “Hangover?”

Olivia shook her head, warmth spreading over her chest as the vivid memories registered in her mind. “Just…uh, regular headache.” She smiled at her Captain. Her eyes lingered on his, mesmerized yet again by the intensely blue orbs looking back at her. She noticed the freckles on his nose and his lip and the changing shade of brown of his beard as it travelled down his neck.

“Maybe later we can have some chai while we watch the sunset?” Sy leaned against the metal body of the Humvee, one hand resting low on his hip.

Olivia tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrow. “Sunset? You do realize I fly a chopper for a living? I’ve seen my fair share of sunsets and sunrises by now.”

“But you haven’t seen a sunset with me.” A smirk formed on Sy’s lips, challenging her for another excuse.

Olivia felt a flutter in the pit of her belly and her mouth opened as she was rendered speechless. She felt herself balancing over the same dangerously thin line again. In a weird sense, this didn’t feel the same for her like it was with Alex. With him she had felt a rush of becoming reckless, but with Sy she wanted to be cautious, mindful. When he had kissed her forehead last night and embraced her, she had never felt more safe in the world like she did in that moment.

“Okay.” She nodded, “Rooftop like last night?” Olivia suggested as her unit members began getting into the Humvees, ready to head out. Sy tipped his cap in confirmation before walking towards his own team and barking orders to mount up.

Out in the desert, Olivia spent the rest of her day interacting with the locals and listening to their problems. She was following Lieutenant Pepps's orders about sympathizing with the public, to ensure they get local support in the future. As she listened to a weeping woman complain about the scarcity of food, her mind drifted back to a memory with Alex.

“What changed, Liv?” Alex pulled at her wrist, turning her around to face him. Olivia yanked at his hold, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Alex,” She pleaded, closing her eyes to escape this conversation. She had spent time in Afghanistan and the things she’d seen had changed her. She had seen the fragile nature of life and understood it was useless to be wasting her precious years on someone she only cared about as a friend.

“Tell me, Liv.” His voice was laced with anger, his eyes burning with hatred. “Tell me you don’t love me so that I can remove myself from your life. Because I can’t be your friend, not after all this.” He let go of her hand, slumping his shoulders as his eyes misted with tears and he fell on his knees.

Liv felt the weight of her actions crumbling her down in front of him. She never intended to hurt him, but she couldn’t love him, at least not the way he wanted her to. The possibility of losing her friend forever made her emotions win over her determination to end things with him. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’ll do better. I’m so sorry.”

Olivia sighed as she watched the sun slowly drift towards the horizon casting an orange hue over the sky. She had never gathered the courage to break things with Alex again. He had tried labelling them in a relationship, but she had avoided the topic like the plague. Their arrangement worked as they were deployed to different locations which gave her time away from him, only forcing her to pretend when they were on leave together. She grasped the Saint Christopher medal lying against her chest in her hand and felt the consequences of her actions pricking at her heart.

“Hey,” Sy called out from the doorstep leading out on the roof. He had a canteen in one hand and two cups in another. Liv had walked up to the roof as soon as they had returned to base. The parked white truck had indicated that Sy was back too but since there still had been time until sunset, she had decided to wait out alone on the roof.

“Hey,” she cleared her throat, shaking her head to ward away thoughts about Alex. She smiled weakly at Sy and walked towards him.

Sy frowned with his eyebrows scrunching together. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Did Mahmoud make the chai for us?” She changed the subject, sitting on the pile of sandbags against a wall.

“No, I did.” Sy proudly informed as he took a seat beside her.

Olivia watched as Sy poured the steaming cardamom tea in the cups and handed one to her. She breathed in the aroma before taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Incredible. When did you learn to make chai?”

“Picked up the recipe over the years.” He shrugged his shoulders, but Olivia noticed his chest puff up with pride on getting complimented on his acquired skill. Sy turned to face towards the expanse of the desert beyond the compound, silently sipping his tea.

“Captain Syverson, man of many talents.” She said in a sing-song voice and leaned back against the wall, bringing her knees up to her chest and holding her cup with both her hands.

Liv watched as Sy chuckled, his shoulders shaking with his laughter. The hair of his beard over his upper lip glistened with steam caught in it, almost urging her to wipe her hand over his mouth.

“You are staring, little birdie.” He looked at her sideways, his lips curling at the corners.

Liv rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched with a smile forming on them. “What’s with the nickname?”

“Well you fly the Little Bird, so that makes you little Birdie.”

She laughed as he finished his sentence, looking at him to see if he was joking. “How original, Sy.” She shook her head dismissively, but a fluttery feeling settled in her heart.

“Hey, I didn’t want to call you by the names everyone used.” He defended himself, feigning hurt dramatically by clutching his left pec over his heart.

Liv continued to laugh thinking about the silly reason behind the nickname, but adding it to the list of names she already had. They sat in silence, enjoying their tea as they watched the sun dipping down the horizon with every passing minute. The sky burst into a mixed palette of orange and purple, the clouds drifting away with the wind.

She felt Sy’s eyes on her as she sipped the remnants of tea from her cup. She bit her lip feeling mischievous and commented, “You’re staring, Captain.” She tilted her head to look at him, only to feel her breath hitch as she stared into his cerulean eyes. Sy had the softest look on his face, his smile barely visible from under the bush of his beard.

“What?” She asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Who’s Captain Coop?”

His question caught Olivia off-guard and she blinked several times to understand that Sy had indeed asked about Alex. “Wh-what?” She tried to not stumble over her words but Sy had left her stunned.

“Yesterday, they were teasing you with his name. I just thought I should ask.” Sy’s gaze never left her face, even when he placed his cup to the side along with hers and the empty canteen.

Liv let out a slow, ragged breath. The mention of Alex’s nickname had her heart racing, her mind going through a carousel of his memories. “He was our captain, before you. My men...they were just… fooling around.” She plucked a jute strand from the sandbag she was sitting on, avoiding Sy’s stare.

She felt him shift on the bag and when she peered, she noticed him coming to stand in front of her. Liv looked up at him as his body loomed over hers. He bent down so as his face was right in front of her.

“So, you’re saying, I don’t have to worry about another man in your life?” His voice was low, and his breath felt warm against her skin.

“N-no. Why?” She gulped as her throat became dry. She watched as Sy licked his lips wet and smiled at her.

“Because I am going to kiss you and I ain’t gonna kiss some other man’s girl.” Sy whispered and waited for her to answer. A slight nod of her head was all he needed as he brought his lips down on hers, placing a soft and gentle kiss over her desirous lips.

Liv closed her eyes as the feeling of his lips sent sparks down her spine. The coarse hairs of his beard grazed against her face as she moved her lips against his. Sy placed his hand over her cheeks as he moved his lips with hers, darting his tongue out seeking permission to enter. She grabbed a hold of his t-shirt and another at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer to her and opened her mouth slightly to grant him access.

The minutes felt like they stretched into hours as Sy’s tongue danced against hers. She could taste the faint taste of cardamom on his tongue and breathe in his musky scent as she willingly deprived herself of oxygen. Panting as their lungs struggled to take in air, Sy let go of her with a last pull on her bottom lip.

When Olivia opened her eyes, the sun had set beyond the horizon and darkness was falling over the desert. Sy let out a slow breath as he grazed his knuckles over her cheek. She felt herself leaning in his touch as her breathing came back to normal.

“Sunsets and kisses, aren’t you a romantic Syverson?” She teased, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

Sy chuckled. “Told you our first kiss would be memorable.” Sy shrugged his shoulders with a cheeky smile, before pulling Liv up for another breathtaking kiss.

Chapter Six>

🌟 Series Masterlist 🌟

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sand and stars series #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic

[haledamage]

Double Date

I’m very late in the day posting this, but I still got it before Valentine’s Day is over so I’m counting it as a win! this is sort of for OC Kiss Week, and since technically there’s a kiss between OCs I’m still counting it

a Valentine’s Day double date featuring Wayhaven’s cutest couple, Nate Sewell and Abigail Jenings, from the POV of Kira Kingston, one half of Wayhaven’s most awkward not-couple. AJ belongs to my dear @queen-scribbles, Kira is mine, Nate and Adam are from The Wayhaven Chronicles

---

Kira set a pair of mugs on the squat coffee table in her living room. One mug, proudly proclaiming its owner to be “Pure of Heart, Foul of Mouth, Smart of Ass” held a fresh cup of chai tea. The other, a beautiful handmade mug covered in sunflowers, belonged to Kira’s roommate, AJ, and was filled with coffee to the redhead’s very exacting taste.

It’s a quiet day in the apartment, something both women preferred and rarely got to enjoy. With work and Agency business - not to mention AJ's new boyfriend and Kira's… more complicated situation - it'd been a while since they'd been able to spend time together that didn’t involve casing a crime scene.

AJ had claimed the sofa, legs tucked under her and book open on her lap. It looked to be a very old tome, pages yellowed and spine cracked with time; it didn't take much to figure out where she must've gotten it - or rather, who she’d gotten it from.

Drinks delivered, Kira returned to the old gingham recliner and picked up her own book - a murder mystery; she’s pretty sure she knew who did it already, but didn’t want to skip ahead for vindication.

“Hey, Kir,” AJ's voice broke the silence and Kira's meandering thoughts. She waited for the brunette to hum in acknowledgement before asking, “You doin’ anythin’ on Sunday?”

Kira took a second to think about it, though she didn’t really need to. “I don't think so? In theory, I have the day off. Why?”

“Nate and I were thinkin’ o’ goin’ out and thought you might like t’ join us,” Abigail said in a rush.

Kira blinked. Then blinked again. “You're inviting me to third wheel on your date this weekend?”

“Not... exactly.”

“Spit it out, Red.”

“Y'see, we figured we could maybe…” AJ tugged on a wayward curl, straightening it out before letting it snap back to join the rest, “make it a double date.”

“A double--” Kira was half-tempted to pretend she didn't know who Abigail and Nate intended her date to be, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. “There's no fucking way Adam would agree to that, AJ.”

Grinning victoriously, AJ carefully closed her book so she could lean forward. “But if he did, would y’ go?”

There was no way Kira could say no to that hopeful look and she knew it. “Sure,” she sighed. “Okay. If you can convince Adam to go, then I will too.”

“Trust me, Kir,” Abigail said, patting her friend on the knee as she reached for her coffee, “it'll be fun.”

It's only later that night as she was setting her alarm that Kira realised with a sinking feeling what day Sunday was. She just got roped into a double date on Valentine's Day.

---

Kira resolutely refused to dress up. She was still pretty sure Adam wasn’t going to show up, and she didn’t want to third-wheel in uncomfortable shoes. She wore the same head-to-toe black she always did - though she did slap on some red lipstick at the last minute in an attempt to appear “festive.”

She felt vindicated when Sunday evening came around and AJ was dressed much the same way she normally was, blouse and waistcoat and adorable but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to tame her copper curls. She cycled between checking her phone, wringing her hands, and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her shirt; it looked like only sheer force of will was keeping her from pacing the length of their living room.

“C’mon, Red,” Kira said fondly. She put her hands on AJ’s shoulders. “Relax. You’ve been on dates with Nate before.”

“It’s our first Valentine’s Day.” She somehow sounded even more nervous than she looked.

“First of many.” That finally drew a smile to Abigail’s face. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Hearts Festival,” she admitted quickly. “It was Nate’s idea, showin’ ‘em the local culture.”

“That’s… not a bad idea, actually.” Kira could feel herself relaxing under that knowledge. The Hearts Festival was a fair held every year in the Square, on or around Valentine’s Day. Most of the local artists and crafters set up little stalls of things intended to appeal to couples, but Kira and Abigail had found some of their favorite knick-knacks exploring it together. There was also music and cutesy romantic activities aplenty, but both of them were familiar enough with it that they could approach or avoid it on their own terms.

“Nate said Adam’s lookin’ forward to it,” the redhead said slyly.

“Nate was fucking lying.” Just like that her tension was back, which only made AJ smile wider. “I don’t think Adam knows how to look forward to things. Especially not when I’m involved.”

“Maybe. I guess we’ll see.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. The brief measure of calm AJ had found was gone in a blink, nervously brushing a palm over her hair as if that might subdue it. Kira bit back a laugh and took pity on her friend, yelling, “It’s open!”

The door swung open and Nate and Adam stepped inside, the former immediately greeting his girlfriend with a warm smile, the latter scowling at nothing in particular.

Knowing her presence had been immediately forgotten, Kira ducked out of the way to avoid getting stuck between Nate and AJ as they gravitated toward each other like magnets. She busied herself with getting her coat on instead.

She only barely stifled a surprised gasp when Adam came over to help her with it. Neither of them said anything, looking anywhere except at each other.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to break the silence, grabbing the first topic that came to mind. “I’m surprised they talked you into this.” Her voice came out a little rough, so she cleared her throat and finally turned to face him, playful grin in place. “Did Nate have to blackmail you?”

A corner of his lips quirked up in a small smile. “Do you think I’m that averse to your company, Detective?”

She shrugged. “Valentine’s just doesn’t seem like your thing.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, strangely reluctant. “Why did you agree to this, if you didn’t expect me to?”

“I’ve never been able to say no to AJ.” Kira glanced over at Abigail and her boyfriend, who may as well have been the only people in the room for the way they were wrapped up in each other. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll use it for evil.”

“Is it your thing?” he asked quietly, watching their friends as well. “All of… this?”

She scoffed. “Not really. I don’t think I’m a chocolates-and-flowers kind of girl.” She looked back at Adam to find him frowning at her words. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked disappointed. It woke up the butterflies in her stomach and compelled her to add, “I’ve never had anyone try to prove otherwise.”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply to that, scared of what exactly his answer would be, clearing her throat exaggeratedly instead. “Should I go? I can stay at the Warehouse tonight if you lot need to be alone.”

AJ and Nate paused, their lips a hairsbreadth apart as they’d both been leaning toward each other. Kira didn’t need vampire hypersenses to feel the frustration coming from both of them, though neither of them said anything about it; she tried not to feel guilty about interrupting them as they moved apart.

A few minutes later, the four of them stepped out into the cold February evening and began the walk toward the Square.

Nate and Abigail took the lead. They only made it a few steps before he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. They shared a brief, besotted smile before turning their attention back to the sidewalk, walking close enough that their shoulders bumped together.

Kira found herself staring at their linked hands as she walked behind them, something stirring in her chest that she might almost call jealousy, except she knew she wasn’t at all attracted to either of them. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted over to Adam walking next to her, only to find him already staring back. For a beat, their gazes held.

Then they both looked quickly away, suddenly fascinated by the sidewalk and the light traffic on the road. Adam shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and after a moment’s hesitation Kira did the same.

The next few minutes were spent in tense silence, the only sound between them the snatches of conversation drifting back from the couple in front of them.

“Where are they taking us?” Adam asked suddenly.

“They didn’t tell you?” He shook his head and she smiled a little. “I only found out just before you arrived. They must’ve assumed we’d refuse as soon as we heard. It’s a little fair that they hold in the Square every year. I mostly just go for the food.”

“You’ve been before?”

“Sure.”

“With a date?” The question forced itself out through clenched teeth.

“Yes. I have a standing date with this cute redhead I know. About yea high,” she held a hand a few inches above her head, “lets me call her Red.” She watched in awe and amusement as the tension left Adam’s shoulders when he realised that his only ‘competition’ was the woman dating his best friend. Kira glanced fondly at the cute redhead in question, who looked back at her as if aware that she was being talked about. She winked at her, and Abigail grinned back. “I kinda thought I’d be spending the day alone this year,” she added quietly to Adam.

“You sound like you would have preferred that.”

“No.” It sounded like a lie, so she corrected herself. “Not exactly. I don’t mind the company. I just don’t like the crowds.”

They turned a corner and were hit by a wave of lights and noise as they entered the Square. Kira flinched under the onslaught more than either of the vampires did, but steadied herself quickly before anyone could fret over her.

The whole area was festooned with lights. Strings of white and pink and red fairy lights wound between poles and covered stalls. Everything was wrapped in ribbons and draped with flowers, and the notes of a familiar Elvis love song drifted to them from a small stage off to one side.

The night passed in a blur. Looking back at it, Kira wouldn’t be able to recall doing much more than just walking through the crowds, eyeing a couple interesting pieces of artwork and very fancy little cakes. She remembered the mulled cider Nate got her and the colorful bouquet he got AJ. She remembered being dragged into the photobooth with AJ, and standing on the sidelines of the dance floor watching her dance with Nate.

She remembered the way Adam stood next to her, a question on his lips that he still couldn’t quite voice. She remembered the single red rose that somehow found its way into her hand.

She remembered that she started the day feeling like she was being dragged along on her best friend’s date, and finished it wishing the date didn’t have to end.

When they arrived back at their apartment building, Kira and Adam acquiesced to their friends’ unspoken request and stayed downstairs to give them time to say good night properly. As soon as they were alone, the familiar silence fell between them, tense and comfortable in equal measure.

Surprisingly, it was Adam that broke it first. “Did you have a nice night, Detective?”

“You know what, I did. And one hundred percent less mirror mazes than our last date, that was nice.” She grinned when he chuckled at that. “I’m dying to see where people trick you into taking me next time.”

He didn't seem at all bothered by the prospect of 'next time.' His smile lingered, wide enough to show the slightest hint of dimples on his cheeks. "If I recall, the last one was with Nate and Detective Jenings as well."

Kira leaned against the wall of the apartment building and said, as casually as possible, "True. Maybe we should plan the next one ourselves, then. Invite them along for a change.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” He didn’t seem bothered by that either, though his smile was stifled by the weight of the look he gave her, serious and intense and full of an emotion she couldn’t name.

She tried not to wilt under that look and instead met it with an answering one. “If I was, would you say yes?”

He moved a step closer, struggling between what he wanted to say and what he felt he should. She waited him out, like she always did. Eventually, all he said was “Kira…”

The sound of footsteps on the stairs meant she’d never get to know how the rest of that sentence went. She tried to swallow her disappointment when Adam stepped away again, and turned to smile at Nate as he joined them.

He smiled back, an absolutely giddy expression on his face. Kira knew she’d see an identical one on AJ’s face when she went upstairs. He put a warm hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he walked past and wished her good night.

She expected Adam to follow him, but he still lingered a moment more, brow knotted with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said, a bit too quickly. “I simply… wanted to thank you. For accompanying me.”

“Anytime.” The admission made her blush, but she didn’t take it back. “I-I should probably…” she gestured vaguely up the stairs.

“Of course.”

He reached out and took one of her hands in a gentle grip, moving slowly as if to give her a chance to pull away. As if she had any intention of doing so. As if she wasn’t holding her breath for fear that any gasp or sigh might scare him away. He bowed, the movement so formal that she could clearly see evidence of the knight he once was, and lightly brushed his lips over the back of her hand.

Whatever he saw on her face as he moved away again drew a smirk from him. “Good night, Kira.”

She released the breath she’d been holding in a serrated sigh. “Good night, Adam.” Her voice came out oddly high-pitched, but it made him chuckle again.

Then he was gone.

It took a couple minutes before Kira could remind herself to move and drag herself upstairs. AJ was waiting for her in the living room, grinning ear to ear and still clearly on cloud nine about her night with Nate.

Kira was starting to think she understood the feeling, just a little.

That surprised a giggle out of her, the sound so hopelessly smitten that there would be no way she could keep what just happened a secret. Abigail’s knowing look only confirmed it, her smile somehow even wider and Kira’s growing to match it.

On a whim, she grabbed the redhead’s face and kissed her firmly on the cheek. “You are the best friend and wingwoman a girl could have.”

“You’re welcome, Kir,” AJ chuckled. “Am I forgiven for draggin’ y’ out on Valentine’s Day?”

“You can drag me along wherever you want to. No more complaints from me.”

“I’m gonna remember y’ said that.” She dropped down onto the sofa, leaving enough room for Kira to join her. “Now tell me everythin’.”

#twc #kira kingston #abigail jenings #kira/adam #aj/nate #thank you for letting me borrow your girl cait <3 #and I'm sorry for interrupting that kiss lmao #you'd think kira would know better #hearts festival is based off a little fair we have here sometimes. I used to go with my sister :)

[quirks-of-a-fangirl]

A Quick Blurb

Here it is! My first ever writing piece. It’s a little sentimental and a lot cheesy. Tell me what you think!

Harry/OC

Word Count: 2322

Warnings: Mentions of Mental Health

1:28pm Hey just checking in. I haven’t heard from you today

3:34pm Pipes, are you ok???

5:56pm Piper I’m coming over because I just need to make sure you’re not dead

Piper glanced at the text from Harry and tossed her phone across her bed. He was always so worried. About her, about school, about work. Granted, this time around she hadn’t answered his texts or calls for a couple days. She was just so tired. Harry was probably bluffing, just threatening her to get her to finally answer. He was a worrier, but not that bad.

 Piper wasn’t feeling well. She wasn’t really sick, but she just couldn’t get out of bed. Everything just seemed really hard to do and she didn’t really feel like doing it anyway. Texting back, reading textbooks, eating food. Nothing seemed to really rouse her from her bed. Honestly, Piper wasn’t concerned about it. This happened sometimes. Her little “episodes” she called them. It was normal at this point to have a couple days to a week she just wasn’t functional every so often.

The knock at her door did little to pull her attention from her pillow. Eventually whoever it was would leave, probably an online purchase delivery she had just forgotten about. But then the lock started to sound. Fuck. Harry opened the door with his key.

“Honey, I’m hooooome,” his voice rang out in her small apartment. Fuck past Piper for giving him a key. Maybe if she was quiet enough, he would leave her to stay in her safe cocoon of blankets. Little chirps and purrs could be heard from the living room, undoubtedly where Harry was indulging Persephone with pets and loves. He wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Footsteps, both small and large, came down the hall to her bedroom. 

“Hey, bubs, up ya get. Get that arse out of bed.”

“Why the fuck did I ever give you a key?”

“Not my fault you need your cat fed while you travel the world.” She didn’t travel all that much, but the key was really more for when Harry needed feeding, not Persephone.

Harry climbed into bed with her, making the mattress dip and bounce under his tall frame. Pulling the covers off her head, he exposed her to the cold room. She reached out quickly to try to yank the covers back, but he was unrelenting. 

“Are ya having one of your episodes?”

“No, I’m just really invested in perfecting my bedhead.”

“Love, don’t do that,” he said gently, laying down beside her. He looked at her, really took her in. His eyes scanned her face, trying to read what she was trying to hide. Her hair was mussed from being in bed for two days. The purple bags beneath her eyes refused to leave no matter how much sleep she got. Harry noticed the sparkle that usually made her brown eyes unmissable was gone. It was definitely one of her episodes. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me,” he said softly. His eyes were softening more and more as he spoke.

“I’m honestly fine. Like sure, it’s an episode. But it’s nothing new. Been there, done that, keep doing it. No need to drag you into this shit,” she brushed off. It was directly against what her therapist and her had written in her “episode” plan. She knew. He knew it. And the quirk of his eyebrow reminded her he knew it. 

“So I know for a fact that Allison would make you rephrase that. But because I’m so kind, I’m just going to make you get up instead.” Allison was her therapist. Harry often talked like he was the one going to Allison for sessions, not Piper. 

“Allison is a strong believer in self care and who said that this isn’t self care.”

“Pretty sure you need to at least shower to call it self care.”

Piper pushed her greasy hair back, feeling the stringiness herself. She knew she looked worse for the wear, but she really didn’t need inhumanly pretty Harry to point it out. She took in his high cheekbones, one squished against his hand on the pillow, and his chiseled jaw. His green eyes were looking especially light today, like the first little sprouts popping up in the spring. She couldn’t see his dimples, he was far too worried about her to give her one of his dazzling smiles. She had to look away. Really how pathetic could she be? Here she was, having a depressive episode, not showered, looking and feeling a hot mess in front of her stupid beautiful best friend who she had such confusing feelings for.

“Let’s get you dressed, huh,” he offered gently.

“I haven’t showered in two days.”

“Ok, shower first. Clothes after.”

Piper slowly climbed out of bed and padded toward the bathroom. She turned on the sink and grabbed her bright pink toothbrush while the shower head burst to life. She looked over and saw Harry checking the temperature and grabbing her favorite lavender shampoo that she only used on special occasions. She hated how her heart stuttered at the gesture. Even when she was numb to everything else, even when she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else, here her stupid heart was freaking out over this boy. But then again, Harry always had that effect on her, from the first time they met during their first semester of grad school. She was standing in line for a chai at the small coffee stand in the library. He was trying to juggle his phone, wallet, and three books while in line. One of the books ended up on Piper’s foot, resulting in loud profanity from Harry. Piper just laughed it off as she noticed his green eyes and dark curls. Harry paid for her chai and her heart skipped a beat. Piper helped with his books as he told her he was here studying music all the way from England. That was that. They were inseparable despite their vastly different degree programs. They were always a package deal; everyone knew if you invited one of them, you got both of them. They were so much like a couple even though they weren’t one. Harry wasn’t “into dating right now.” He was too focused on getting his masters done. She knew that and respected that. It was just so hard to be so in love with him when she knew that it would never happen. 

Harry gave her shoulder a squeeze on his way out of the bathroom. She spit out the last of her toothpaste and then quickly showered. She did spend a little extra time washing and conditioning her hair, taking in the smell of lavender and enjoying the way the bubbles ran down her back. 

She stepped out into her room, hair and body all wrapped up in her turquoise towels that matched her turquoise comforter and curtains. Harry was sitting up against the head of the bed, legs crossed, with Persephone laying on his stomach and his phone in his hand. He looked up at her and smiled a big dimpled smile. Piper couldn’t help but let her own dimple pop out for a second. 

“Smell proper wonderful, you do, Pet.” She blushed as she went to her closet. 

“Fuck off.” She was so done with that pitter patter of her heart. She quickly closed the closet behind her and got dressed in her well worn flare jeans and an old band shirt, slipping on her old birks. 

 “What did you want with me anyway?”

“Well, love, we are going on an adventure, of course.” He grabbed her hand and she felt a tingle run up her arm. The smirk on his face told her to expect something weird from their adventure. 

Harry pulled into a parking space, cut the engine, and looked over to Piper with that devilish smirk adorning his pretty pink lips. Piper looked out the window to see the playground that was in the park nearest campus. It was near the school Piper was currently using in her research for her graduate degree. Thank goodness it was during the school day so none of her students were milling around, but she was still on the lookout. Her slight grimace twisted her features as she let Harry open her car door. She jumped out of Harry’s older than him car and waited for an explanation. Glancing over his shoulder, he started toward the swings. She huffed. Why did she just go along with whatever he wanted? 

Harry had already claimed the swing closest to the parking lot, dragging his toes in the dirt, when Piper finally made her way to the swings. She plopped down in the swing to his left, grabbing the chains on either side of her face. Harry was humming a Fleetwood song as she settled into a rhythm on her swing. She started to sing softly along.

“So do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked over at Harry who was still looking down. He knew if he made eye contact with her, she would close right back up. Piper looked straight ahead. 

“You know how it gets. Sometimes my brain goes a little haywire and takes me down for a few days.”

Still not looking at her, “Do you know the trigger this time around?”

Of course he would ask the logical question that she just did not have an answer to. She had thought about it, obviously, since it was really the only thing she had to think about lying in bed, closed off from the world. She thought she had her depression under control and then all of a sudden it wasn’t under control. She stayed quiet.

“Not sure yet?” He was so gentle with her. It was too much to handle in her fragile state. The tears welled in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to upset ya, pet. I’m sorry.”

She sniffled. “It’s not you. I’m just frustrated that I don’t know why this happened. And that it happened at all. I’m fine, really.” The look he gave her let her know that he wasn’t convinced but he didn’t push her. He never did. They continued to swing in silence for a little longer until Harry started talking about when one of his professors walked into his theory class on the phone with his wife and it the bluetooth speaker accidentally picked up the tail end of her dirty comment. It made a small giggle escape her lips.

“Miss Taffett!” Piper’s head shot in the direction of the call. She was so used to answering to her last name, especially when called from a small human. It was one of the students she worked with at the school. Piper looked down at her phone and saw that school had ended 10 minutes ago.

“Taylor! It’s so good to see you!” Piper put on her school voice and stood up to greet the young girl.

“Miss Taffett, why are you at the playground? You’re a grown up!” The little girl threw her arms around Piper’s waist. Piper hugged her back and chuckled. 

“Well what do you do when you come to the playground?”

“I play with my friends!” Piper looked over at Harry. “Well that’s what I’m doing, too!”

The young girl giggled hard and they said their goodbyes. Piper felt eyes on her and turned to see Harry smiling at her with a stupid look on his face. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head but the smile stayed. Piper brushed it off. 

The first fresh air in days was sitting nicely in her lungs and the sun was soaking through her tshirt. Everything was warming up: her skin, her muscles, her emotions. She plopped down where she was in the grass, laying down not trying to think too hard about the bugs and dirt and parasites that could get into her hair. Those not-so-cute anxiety thoughts were put to the side when the breeze picked up and the grass started to tickle the skin on her arms and raise the hairs there. She closed her eyes. After a moment, she felt a presence next to her. Harry had laid down in the grass, too. 

“I think it was hearing that song again. You know, the one he listened to constantly.”

Harry hummed. He didn’t need further explanation to know that Piper was referring to that one really popular hip hop song, the one her incredibly manipulative and awful ex-boyfriend forced her to listen to, telling her that her taste in music sucked and that she just needed to listen to his stuff. She hated all of the music he made her listen to, but he would whine and complain every time he didn’t get his way. With everything. So she just complied to make it all easier. Harry knew all about that horrible relationship, about the abuse she went through for years, so he didn’t need anymore to know that she was going through emotional flashbacks and that it just spiraled from there. 

His little finger hooked with her right pinkie. She didn’t say anything and neither did he. They just laid there, Piper trying to wade through her murky thoughts. She tried really hard to just focus on the sensations she was feeling, just like Allison had told her to. The grass swaying against her skin, the breeze picking up the flyaway hairs from her face, the sun beating down, the fingers brushing up against her own. Eventually, Harry took his hand away and started to sit up. Piper opened her eyes, realizing just then that they were closed, and looked over to her right. Harry was standing up, brushing the grass and dirt off of himself. He looked down at her with those green eyes. She was starting to feel a little better with those green eyes.

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles au #oc fanfiction #blurb #harry styles blurb

[language-of-love]

a welcome change...

Summary: There’s still a dead guy in room 4 and David can’t stay at Patrick’s, but that doesn’t mean they can’t go on a second date. And kiss in David’s car. Part 5 of my missing kisses series...that’s now out of order episodically, but this just had to be written. (AO3)

“You know,” David finds himself admitting aloud, “this is actually only the second real date I’ve ever been on.”

It’s an odd thing to realize considering the number of people he’s dated in the past.

Obviously thinking the same thing, Patrick looks over at him from the passenger side of David’s car with a questioning look.

“Uh, does that mean that last night was your first one?”

Clenching the steering wheel a bit harder than necessary, David nods, trying to find the least offensive way of explaining that his previous life was full of a lot of emotionless sex and ridiculous pining for relationships that never really existed.

“Let’s just say that I tended to do things a bit out of order. So, this is a welcome change.” He can feel the blush blooming high on his cheeks at that admission, but there’s something about Patrick that has him wanting to be just a bit more vulnerable than he’d normally allow.

In what feels like a reward for his honesty, Patrick’s hand reaches across the car with his palm facing up and David spares a quick glance his way. He’s pretty sure he knows what Patrick is silently asking for, but it’s been a long time since he’s done this and he kinda needs the reassurance, which he gets immediately when he sees the warmth of Patrick’s smile. So, he drops his right hand from the steering wheel into Patrick’s, feeling warmth spread from his toes to the tips of his ears as Patrick weaves their fingers together and lets their joined hands fall to his thigh.

“Well, it’s been a fun night,” Patrick says, parroting the same sentiment David had said the night before. God, this man is cheesy, and so different from everything David has ever been drawn to in the past. But maybe, just maybe...he’s making better choices now. And he’s right. It was a fun night. Really fun actually.

They’d driven into Elmdale and found a little pizza place that had tables outside. Patrick hadn’t complained that it took a half hour to get their pie thanks to David’s very particular requests, instead using the time to play with the rings on David’s hand as they chatted about everything and nothing. They’d shared a scoop of limoncello gelato after, with David protesting that it was too sour before eating almost all of it, including the sticky syrup still left on Patrick’s lips as they leaned against David’s car in the darkened parking lot. Eventually though, they’d both reluctantly admitted it was probably time to head home.

Giving Patrick’s fingers a light squeeze, he feels a tinge of annoyance creep in as Ray’s place comes in to view. He isn’t ready for this night to end yet. But, he promised Patrick they’d take things slow, so inviting himself in just isn’t an option. Even if that means sleeping on a cot in his parents’ room tonight, he’s not going to do anything to mess this thing, whatever it is, up, at least not on purpose.

Pulling up in front of Ray’s, David realizes he’s going to need his hand back to put the car in park, which has him hesitating with his foot on the brake. He doesn’t want to let go. There’s a chuckle beside him and before he has a moment to question Patrick as to what’s so amusing, Patrick is reaching over with his right hand to pull the gear shift into park. Is this guy a mind reader or something?

David doesn’t have any time to really wonder about that though. Patrick, who is still leaned in, makes a move so suave that David feels a tiny part of him fall in love right on the spot. The hand that had been on the gear shift is now on David’s jaw, turning his face to meet Patrick’s soft, but not at all tentative kiss. Since when does kissing feel this good?

Dropping his left hand from the steering wheel, he lets his fingers curl around Patrick’s forearm, thankful that Patrick had rolled up his sleeves during dinner leaving his warm skin free to be touched. Obviously emboldened by David’s response, Patrick gets bolder with his kiss, his lips coaxing David’s open to welcome a languid sweep of his tongue.

Fireworks. There’s goddamn fireworks going off behind David’s eyelids and popping in his ears.

And it’s too much, but not enough, so he finds himself wrenching his hand free of Patrick’s so he can grab at his neck to make sure he doesn’t stop. Because this is the single best kiss of his life. Sliding his tongue along Patrick’s, he groans softly into his mouth, sinking into the wet heat and humidity of their shared, shallow breaths. When Patrick’s teeth pull slightly on David’s lower lip he can’t stop himself from swearing, “fuck…” as his hand drags Patrick even closer, wishing desperately there was room for him to crawl over into his lap, but knowing somewhere in the back of his brain that there isn’t...and they are supposed to be taking things slow.

Patrick is pulling back now, but not far, his hand bracing himself on the window as he takes a few ragged breaths through a rather blinding smile. “Wow,” he declares on a soft gasp, his eyes dropping down to David’s mouth as if he’s counting down the seconds until he can get another taste. It’s the single sexiest thing David has ever seen.

Reaching up, he swipes his thumb across the sweat that has gathered above Patrick’s top lip, not sure at all of why he’s just done that. It triggers something in Patrick though, something that has his breath hitching and his hand on the window sliding down the glass. When his head turns to catch David’s thumb between his lips, David knows he’s in serious trouble. It’s probably because his mind has begun to conjure things far from the “taking things slow” realm that has David not protesting in the slightest as Patrick drags their mouths together again in a wet and dirty kiss. This time, it’s David being dragged across the car with Patrick’s hands framing his face, the seatbelt stopping his forward momentum and ripping their lips apart.

David grunts and Patrick mumbles in confusion, his eyelids taking a long moment to flutter open and see what has happened. The man is completely lust drunk and David has never felt more proud. And annoyed. Because as much as it is going to pain him to do so, he’s going to have to be the one to bring this night to an end. Patrick wants to take things slow. He’s just forgotten that temporarily, in spectacular fashion. And as much as David wants to rip off this seatbelt and show Patrick all of the things he’s been missing while lost in that very blue closet, tonight just isn’t the night.

Instead, he leans back, making sure to smile warmly at Patrick as he unclips the seatbelt and climbs out of the car. Patrick hasn’t moved, so David crosses over to his side to open the door, reaching in with his hand to coax Patrick out.

“Is something wrong?” Patrick questions as he unhooks his seatbelt, gingerly taking David’s outstretched hand that David uses to help him out of the car. As soon as he’s on his feet, David crowds him against the door-frame, kissing him soundly in hopes of erasing any lingering doubts of his thoughts on the evening’s events. Patrick chases his lips with still closed eyes when David pulls back and he’s just not strong enough to resist, so he lets Patrick catch him, stifling a moan when he feels Patrick’s erection straining against his jeans where he’s now leaning into David’s thigh. It would be so easy to drag him inside, let wants overtake needs, but he won’t. But god does he want to.

Stepping out of the circle of Patrick’s arms, he reaches down for his hand and laughs as he has to drag an uncooperative Patrick away from his car.

“You wanted to take things slow, remember?” he teases, bumping Patrick’s hip with his own as they walk together towards Ray’s porch.

“Since when do you listen to what I say?” Patrick grumbles, but he’s smiling and he’s gazing over at David with such warmth that David feels his knees wobble a bit. This man is going to take him apart, he just knows it.

“I’m turning over a new leaf. But don’t get too excited, this only applies to our relationship, not anything else…” He’s rambling, but Patrick’s used to that by now.

When they reach the front door, Patrick steps in close, the tip of his nose nudging David’s so sweetly he has to grab Patrick’s elbows to keep himself standing.

“Goodnight, David,” he whispers, kissing David so softly you’d never know they were minutes away from ripping each other’s clothes off back in the car.

It’s in that perfect moment that the porch light over their heads suddenly beams to life and the front door swings open wide.

“Gentlemen, nice to see you!” an overly friendly Ray exclaims in greeting, his already wide eyes bugging out for a brief moment as he registers the embrace David and Patrick haven’t pulled away from. There’s no judgment there, only surprise, his expression turning quickly back to his usual welcoming smile. “I’d worried that perhaps there was an issue with David’s car, but now I see that you two were just having a private moment. That’s very sweet.”

And now David is mortified.

“I’ve just put a kettle of tea on, do come in...come, come…” Ray’s now ushering them both through the door, David nearly tripping over Patrick as they find themselves standing somewhat awkwardly inside with hands still clasped.

And that’s how their date comes to a close, sharing a cup of herbal chai tea with Ray, feet hooked around the ankles as Patrick fills Ray in on the happenings at the store. It feels a little full circle for David, sitting here in the place where they first met, realizing that maybe the reason he was all off kilter that day was he’d finally met the person who, in time, would set everything in his life right.

#schitt's creek #david rose #patrick brewer #david x patrick #patvid #schitts creek #my sc fic

[forlornmelody]

Now That’s The Tea

Rating: Explicit / Lemon (fluff and smut)

Ship: Shaynor

AO3 Link: Here

Summary:   Shepard doesn't seem to be a big fan of tea, or maybe she's just a fan of giving Traynor a hard time. But this is a game they're both willing to play if it means relaxing in the middle of a war.

Note: Written as part of @spectre-requisitions-exchange for @comefeedtherainn

“Tea? Really? I prefer my bean juice, thank you very much.” Shepard pulls at her pressed collar, seemingly itching to take it off.

“Give it a chance.” Sam’s presses her lips together, trying to hide her smile. She’s decent at chess, indecent at Kepesh-Yakshi, but she’s never had much of a poker face. “Now sit up straight and keep your elbows off the table.”

Shepard groans as she complies. “This is the last time I let you plan our dates.”

Sam leans forward, biting her lip. “You said you wanted to get to know me better. High Tea is a valued tradition of my people.”

Her girlfriend deadpans, “You’re from Horizon.” She clicks her tongue. “A country-bumpkin colonist, just like me.”

“But I studied at Oxford. And you better believe I had tea with my professors every time I had the chance.”

“To boost your grades?” Shepard quirked an eyebrow.

“No! To learn.” Sam sighs longingly. “To learn as much as I could.”

“They ever teach you that coffee is better? Or Beer?”

Sam rolls her eyes as the waiters bring in the carousel filled with treats. “No. And besides, it’s not just about the tea.” She can fix a mean cocktail, but there’s just something about holding a warm cup between her hands, regardless of the time of day or the weather.

“Hot Damn,” Shepard swears under her breath, staring at the chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate dipped cherries, sandwiches cut into triangles, saucers filled with cream, other saucers filled with honey, chocolate and pomegranate tarts, and apples cut into the shape of roses. Narrowing her eyes, Shepard eyed the selection. “Half of these are aphrodisiacs.” She looked up at Sam, a smirk pulling at her lips. “If you wanted me in your bed, you could have just asked.”

Keeping her posture perfect, Sam nudges Shepard’s calf beneath the table, allowing her nylon covered toes to slip beneath the hem of Shepard’s trousers. “Ah, but playing the game is half the fun.”

Shepard swallows, her voice cracking as it dips low. “You’re--”

“--Exquisite? Beautiful? Stunning?” Sam fills in for her.

“--Impossible.” Shepard bumps the table as she catches the elbow of the retreating waiter. “Could I get a glass of water, please?”

“Of course.” The turian’s mandibles flick in distaste.

He returns with a rolling cart. “One pot of chai, one pot of pomegranate tea and,” The turian sighs. “And one pitcher of water.”

Shepard pores herself some chai, drinking it black. “Should I put my pinkies up?” She manages to say.

Sam snorts. “That’s only for royalty.” She pours herself some pomegranate tea, but instead of sipping it right away, she bites into a strawberry. “Mm.” Shepard’s gaze locks on hers. “These are so good.”

“Oh?” Shepard pops a cherry into her mouth, chewing and swallowing. And then she sticks the stem inside. Out comes a bow.

“Mm-hm.” Samantha manages to say, though her voice is strained, far too easily imagining what else Shepard can do with her tongue. She knows from experience. How Shepard made her knees quake in their hot tub this morning.  “That’s---not fair.”

Shepard’s eyes twinkle. “Nothing’s fair in love and war, Traynor.” She then proceeds to lick the chocolate off her next strawberry.

“Oh dear.” Why does her girlfriend have to look so suave in her blazer and trousers?

After the mission on Tuchanka--the one where Shepard cures the Genophage--because merely saving the Krogan from a Reaper invasion just isn’t enough for the Alliance hero--Sam finally confronts her commander. She does so “with respect” as she clears her throat. Shepard replies with an edge to her voice--and it only proves Sam right. Her favorite commanding officer isn’t sleeping.

Sam orders a special blend of tea--one that’s way out of her budget with import prices--but who’s counting? She can pay off her debt when the war ends--if any of them make it out alive. A blend of chamomile, lavender, and rose petals--a tea that will help Shepard sleep, hopefully without grogginess the next morning or additional nightmares.

“Specialist Traynor.” Shepard glowers up at her from a streaming mug two sleep and wake cycles later.

Sam stops short of the mess hall table, a bead of sweat slipping down her back. “Commander Shepard.”

“Cortez tells me you’re responsible for this.” Shepard gestures at the mug, holding a conspicuously pink beverage with a floral aroma.

“Y-yes, Commander.”

“Sit down, Traynor, and quit using my title if you’re going to be buying me gifts."

Traynor sits down, her face warming early as hot as the tea. “How is it?”

“Flowery.” Shepard takes a sip. “And sweet.” Her gaze lingers on Sam just a little longer than necessary. “But why go to all the trouble? Especially with your pay.”

Honestly, Sam could use a calming cup right now. “I was...worried about you, Com--Shepard,” she says quickly.

“Worried? About me?” A soft smile blooms across the Commander’s face.

“Everyone needs someone to look out for them. Even you.”

“Mm.” Shepard sips her tea, closing her eyes. Maybe Sam’s imagining things, but she think she sees some of the tension release from Shepard’s shoulders. “You drink this stuff a lot?”

“All the time. This is one of my favorite blends. Had it during high tea with some cucumber sandwiches and it was glorious.” Sam thinks back, the cold steel of the Normandy slipping away as a warm Oxford sun spills across her arms. “You should've seen it, Shepard. The way the sun shone through the leaves--the buzz of bumblebees collecting nectar from the roses--the smell of roses complementing the taste of the liquid in your cup.” She can’t help but sigh longingly at the memory. Who knows if that garden will survive the war?

“I imagine so.” Shepard’s watching her from the rim of the mug, much like her opponents do during a match. Something about her gaze, though.

“The company could have been better.”

“Ah. Not really all that interested in him?” Shepard sets the mug down.

“Her, actually.” Sam watches her carefully, completely unsure of why it matters so much what her commanding officer thinks of her dating history.

Shepard brightens at that, and something stirs behind Sam’s belly button. Oh no. This is not good. Not good at all. “I see.” She studies Sam again, tracing the rim of the mug with her finger. “Maybe when this war is over, you can show me how it’s done.”

That was before Sam invited Shepard into the shower. Maybe they did things a little out of order, but who has patience for something traditional in the middle of a war? Sam’s still shocked she even found this cafe, especially after the Coup. “Try this one,” Sam says as she pours some pomegranate into Shepard’s empty cup.

“Mm. Not bad. Kind of a tart,” Shepard says as she smirks at Sam, clearly not talking about the tea.

Sam kicks her calf. “Pot meet kettle.” She pops a cherry into her mouth, after licking off all the chocolate, pleased with the way Shepard’s mouth drops open.

Shepard clears her throat. “How much longer is this gonna last?”

“Don’t tell me you’re no longer hungry.” Sam pouts, gesturing at the uneaten food.

“Oh, I’m hungry all right.” Shepard shifts in her seat, pulling at her collar while a nice flush creeps up her skin.

“You have to eat your food before you get dessert,” Sam says with a twinkle in her eye.

“This is dessert.”

“Is it?” Sam runs her foot nearly the length of Shepard’s leg, and she choked on her sip.

“Sam.” She pleads after gulping down a big glass of water. “You’re killing me.”

“Nothing’s fair, Shepard.”

Soon enough, she does whisk Shepard away to a sky car, and to Shepard’s apartment (well, technically Anderson’s apartment, but he’s not going to show up there any time soon.) Good thing too, because Sam’s locking the door behind them.

“I’m still not sure why you had me take allergy medicine in the sky car--oh.” Sam’s hit with the aroma of flowers--the minty smell of roses, the sweetness of peonies, the strong, cool scent of lavender, the heady fragrance of verbena.

Shepard grips Sam’s shoulders, spinning her around. Her warm breath stirs the air around Sam’s ear as she murmurs. “Remember that story you told me about afternoon tea in an English garden? It was kind of hot.” She squeezes Sam’s hips. “I’d hate for you to have a reaction.”

Sam sees more flowers than she can reasonably smell-- petunias, violets, impatiens, chrysanthemums and primrose. It’s as if she's standing in a dream. “Shepard--” she protests bashfully. “It must have cost you a fortune to import all these flowers.” Any surface large and stable enough for a vase or a pot has one.

Kissing her ear and down her neck, Shepard continues her previous thought. “Chakwas says those pills would be perfect for you. Are they working?”

Daring to take in a deep breath, Sam shivers. “I think so.”

Shepard grins against her skin. “Good. Cause I want to make love to you when you’re surrounded by your favorites.” Taking her hand, Shepard leads her to the middle of the living room pulling a quilt off the couch so she can spread it across the floor in front of the fire. “Not quite English sunshine, but it’ll have to do.”

Sam pulls her into a kiss. “Nonsense Shepard, this is lovely.”

“Mm.” Shepard kisses back, her lips warmer than the fire. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.” Sam deepens her next kiss, squealing as Shepard sweeps her off her feet and lowers her to the quilt.

Shepard hums her satisfaction, running her hands over Sam’s dress. “You look good in yellow.”

Sam grins, fiddling with the buttons on Shepard’s shirt. “You look good in a suit.” She unbuttons it enough to slip her hand inside, caressing the cotton of Shepard’s bra. Pulling her shirt out of the way just a bit more, she finds an N7 logo. “Really, Shepard.”

Leaning over her, and sliding a hand up Sam’s dress, Shepard smirks. “How else would you know it was me and not a clone?”

“Your clone wouldn’t be trying to undress me.”

“Who says I am?” Sam flushes as Shepard grins wider.

“Are we ever actually going to take off her clothes before we go down on each other?”

“Mm. Maybe. But I need you, right now.” Shepard kisses her in earnest, wetting Sam’s lips with her tongue.”

“Wait, hold on.” Sam presses against her lover’s chest with her hand.

“Now what?” Shepard pouts, sitting back on her heels.

“I have something for you too. Just a moment.” Sam dashes up the stairs, rummaging around until she finds what she’s looking for. Her heart races as she searches, and her breath falls short--any moment away from Shepard feels like an eternity. It'll be worth it, Sam tells herself. She returns, handing Shepard a black box wrapped with a red ribbon. Hopefully her girlfriend would like it. Would she find it too forward? Too corny? Ugh. Sam should have included a gift receipt.

Tearing off the ribbon, Shepard’s eyebrows shoot up when she finds the gift inside. “Hot damn.” She pulls out a double-ended dildo and a harness.

“I thought we should celebrate.”

Shepard’s eyes widen. “Shit, did I forget an anniversary?”

“Not at all.” Sam sits back down with her, cupping her face as she kisses her again. “I almost lost you the other day.”

Shepard runs a hand down the back of Sam’s neck. “I almost lost you, too.”

“Me getting fired is not the same as you getting killed, Shepard.”

“I really try not to die, you know.” Shepard sighs. “Sometimes I fuck up.” She stares at the primrose on the coffee table as if it’s the void of space.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Sam runs her thumb across Shepard’s cheek, feeling awful for taking her out of the moment. Surely they can get it back somehow. “You mean the world to me, you know that right?”

Shepard looks at her and smiles. “Always.” Their lips meet again, reverently as they work together to rid Shepard of her trousers and her and her damp boy shorts.

Sam grins against her lips, tracing her wetness with eager fingers. “You’ve been worked up since tea, haven’t you?”

Growling softly, Shepard grips her a little tighter as she nips Sam’s bottom lip. “You knew exactly what you were doing to me the entire time.”

“You sound annoyed. Do you want me to stop?” Sam puts on a pout, starting to pull her fingers away.

“No, please. I need you,” Shepard pleads, gripping Sam’s wrist. It does something to her to see Shepard so desperate.

“Need?” Sam presses harder and faster, slipping a couple fingers inside her.

“Nng. Need.” Shepard arches into her hand, her jacket falling open just a bit wider.

Sam whispers against her ear, pumping faster. “I do love feeling needed.”

“Sam!” Shepard cries out as she comes. Sam’s about to work her through it, but her girlfriend tackles her, pressing her into the quilt. “Hey Sam,” she says hungrily, leaning over her.

“Hey Shepard.” Sam grins, shivering at the look in Shepard’s eyes. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Mostly. But I’m still starving.” Shepard leans closer. “Whatever will I eat?”

“Should have stayed for dessert.”

“I think I found some.” Shepard’s hand darts up Sam’s dress again, caressing her thighs freely. Sam shivers as her fingertips brush the lace of her panties.

Sam’s mouth feels dry. “Did you?”

Shepard answers by diving underneath the skirt of her dress, pulling the panties out of the way so she can lick her folds more freely. “Mm. You taste so good.” Sam clutches her head, feeling the rasp of Shepard’s buzz cut as a moan slips from her own mouth. Grinning, her girlfriend drags her tongue up and down her clit to her cunt and back. Just as Sam’s about to swear loud enough for the neighbors to hear, Shepard adds her fingers, sliding in and out of her easily. Nothing remotely resembling a word will come out of her mouth now. “You ready for me, baby?”

Sam answers with a moan, rocking into her touch as she shakes apart. Shepard grins at her smugly as she settles down next to her, lying on her side. She squeezes her hand, weaving their fingers together. “Mm. Best dessert I’ve had in a while.”

Sam swats her. “You’re the worst, she scolds her breathlessly.

“You didn’t seem to think so when I was eating you out.” Shepard kisses her again, and Sam feels a stirring inside when she tastes her own juices on her lips. “Ready to test out our new toy?” She asks when Sam’s hands start to wander.

“Actually, I was thinking I would test it out on you.” Sam stays Shepard’s hand when she reaches for the harness.

“Oh.” Shepard reddens as she hands it to her. “Alright.” She fumbles to her feet, jogging upstairs, and grabbing a bottle of lube. Sam laughs, watching her shirt and jacket bob up and down her bare ass.

Bottle in hand, Shepard returns with a grin on her face. Sam guides her back to the floor, laying Shepard on her back before she steps into the harness, one foot at a time. She stands in front of her lover, fingering herself while maintaining eye contact. Shepard watches her hungrily as she lubes up both ends of the toy, parting her lips slightly as she hands it off. Swallowing, Sam slides one end into the ring of the harness, and into herself slowly, relishing the feel of the ridges inside her most sensitive places.

“How does it feel?” Shepard parts her legs, shifting her weight restlessly. She snickers as she watches the free end tent the skirt of her dress. It must be a comical sight, but Sam’s too busy enjoying herself to care.

“Amazing,” Sam breathes, half moaning, “but it’ll feel even better when you’re sharing it with me.” She lowers herself to the floor, crawling over Shepard, kissing her wetly before grabbing the free end of the dildo. “Ready, love?”

“Please, baby.” Shepard runs her hand through Sam’s hair, returning her kiss.

Sam uses her fingers, edging the other end into Shepard, shivering at the way it makes her eyes close. It takes them a few minutes of awkward grinding to find a movement and rhythm, laughing more than they moan. Even their positioning is off at first, with Shepard’s foot falling asleep before she moves it. And then the pressure builds.

“Holy shit,” Shepard grips Sam’s hips, her knuckles going white, “Sam.”

She leans in, drinking in Shepard’s moan with a hungry kiss. The dildo moves between them both, Shepard’s thrusts pushing into Sam and vice versa. “It feels so good, darling.” Sam finds herself gripping Shepard’s shoulder, clinging to her as they move faster and faster and harder until…

Sam bites Shepard’s neck, unable to contain herself as her world flares hotter than the Normandy’s engines. “Oh god.”

“Y-yeah,” Shepard replies, her toes curling against Sam’s feet. The helpless cries of Shepard coming undone sounds like music to Sam’s ears.

“That’s it, darling.” Sam kisses her throat, grabbing the middle of the dildo for leverage, pumping it back and forth between them until they are a mess of limbs on the living room floor.

“You were right,” Shepard says later, after they’ve set the toy aside so they can snuggle closer.

“Am I ever wrong?”

Shepard laughs at her, pinching her butt. “Never.” Her eyes twinkle. “Except when you're talking about tea.”

#mass effect #shaynor #samantha traynor #femshep #spec recs 2019 #lemon #melody writes

[weissfai-blog1]

Best Wishes to You.

Ae Pete Childhood Friend AU I just realized, why does all my fics contain scary, torment and full of heartache plots? I wanna see the darkness inside me? Hmmm.  

Ae and Pete grew up together. Both of their mothers are friends from high school, though the difference was that Ae’s mother is not from a rich family, while Putch came from a very well known family. But that doesn’t stop the friendship of the two that extends towards their sons Ae and Pete. 

The mansion of Putch is just right beside the 4 storey building house of her friend. 

When both mother’s got pregnant, they tease each other that their two babies should be married so that they can be a real family. 

Ae was born months earlier than Pete.  

Ae become the protector of the shy, clumsy and often teased Pete, cause Ae doesn’t like it when Pete cried. When they were kids, he once fought with Pete that end up into the later crying – his chubby cheeks so red and his eyes are shimmering with tears – he felt his heart break and vow that he will never let Pete cry again even if he finds a crying Pete super cute. 

Whoever makes Pete cry will answer to Ae’s fist and kick. No mercy whether it be a girl or a boy. That continued till their high school. 

Ai Koon Chai is the word of endearment of Ae to Pete that started when both of them are only 7 years old. 

Pete seems so delicate and unlike him who often has bruises here and there. 

Ae’s mother will often knock his head when he forces Pete to play outside and making the young master dirty all over his white shirt. Pete will then cry and tell his mother, ‘Please MaeMae don’t hurt my Ae. Don’t hurt his head, he might turn into an idiot.’ When Ae heard that, it was his turn to knock Pete’s head, Pete will massage his head while Ae was getting his 3rd knock from his Mother for hitting Pete. 

Putch will only laugh when Pete will arrive dirty with mud and grass on his clothes. Par Jiew will laugh along and fix the young master before the master of the house arrives. 

When Pete at the age of 9 was inside the mansion learning English and other complicated stuff, Ae was outside playing football with his friends, getting yelled at by his mother, getting into fights with other kids, racing his bicycle with the other kids. But he never forgets to come back exactly 5pm caused that means Pete can play with him.

Pete will cry when he will see Ae with a bruise or a scratch and sometimes blood on his knees and elbows, Pete have perfected the art of taking care of Ae in that department. There’s always a first aid kit inside his room or bandage, gauze and ointment inside his bag.

Ae hates Pete’s dad for breaking Pete & Mae Putch heart when he abandons them. From then on Ae swore that Pete will never feel abandon nor will he ever feel that he is not needed.

Ae often spend the night at Pete’s room and this is their usual ritual:

Ae and Pete will talk about anyone in their school

Pete will laugh non-stop because Ae apparently gain a nosy friend in the form of Pond who Pete thinks is so funny (though Ae will never let Pond near Pete cause he knew how perverted that jackass was – their first meeting was him saving Pond from their teacher when the later drops his porn mag)

Pete will read while Ae will watch the latest football match on Pete’s large TV

Pete will beg Ae to help him with his math problems

Ae will be so prideful to let Pete help him with his English but a puppy pouting Pete will have his way and teach him anyway

Pete and him will play video games and when Ae sees that Pete was about to cry for his lost for the nth time, he will lose on purpose to put a smile on Pete’s face

They will sleep together holding hands

Pete slowly grew taller than Ae and become such a fine Koon Chai. Ae doesn’t know or get why he felt a sudden shortness of breathe or that he is having a weird heart palpitation whenever Pete is near.

He knew Pete to be cute and pretty, much prettier than any girl he knew. Not even their prettiest girl in school can compete with Pete’s look. But he was amazed when Pete hit that stage of puberty. He looks so much delicate than before, milk skin that seems to bruise with a slight touch. Brownish hair that’s so soft. Long eyelashes that covers those sweet looking doe eyes. And what made him question himself more are those pink lips. Why does he feel the urge to just – well – just cover it with his own lips?

Some of their friends teases Ae that Pete is now much taller than him but Ae only grins and show them his fist with words: ‘Yeah he is tall. But I can still beat the crap out on all of you.’

Ae and Pete are still together but not the same as before where they are joined by the hips. Ae focuses more on his football club and Pete focuses more on his studies to help his mother.

It was their last year in high school and both decided to attend the same university, though Pete going to International College while Ae will go to Engineering (Civil Engineering Degree) as he is more familiar with STEM than any other.

Pete went to Ae’s classroom to ask him if they will return home together when he opens the door a girl was confessing to Ae.

‘I’m sorry!’ Pete shouted  and close the door with a bang. ‘Ai Pete!’ Ae shouted to the running Pete. Ae was not able to run after Pete as the girl grabs him and asked again, ‘Please go out with me!’

Ae did answer and the girl cries.

Ae runs and he was told by Par Jiew that Pete went to the hotel with his mother.

It took 2 weeks before Ae and Pete saw each other again and Ae was confused as to why Pete’s face is smiling yet his eyes is so sad.

He felt hurt and wanted to know why. He doesn’t like that Pete is keeping something from him.

Pete only shook his head and told him, ‘You’re imagining things Ae. I’m okay. I must be just tired cause I took internship with my Mom.’

‘Are you going to work over the weekends?’

‘Yes Ae. And also the whole summer. We both passed the entrance exam so now I’ll help Mae and learn more about the hotel.’

Ae nodded and looks at Pete. Pete is saying something that’s slowly breaking his heart. He wont be able to see Pete and spend time with him.

‘How about you Ae? How are you and your girlfriend?’

‘MY WHAT?!’

‘Eh. But Ai Pond and the others, even Ai Sun and Ai Dear are teasing you about her right? I heard that she keeps on following you and even manage to be the manager of the football club. She’s so dedicated to you na.’

‘Pete. She is not my girlfriend and will never be.’

‘Why Ae? She looks cute.’

Ae looks at Pete. ‘Do you really want me to have a girlfriend?’

Pete smiles and says, ‘Yes. So that maybe you wont be so grouchy like a beast.’

Ae looks at Pete and laughs and ruffle his hair. Ae then suddenly hugs Pete and put his chin on Pete’s head. ‘I miss you Pete. If you have time to visit me, visit me please. Its so lonely without you by my side.’

Pete wanted to caress the arms that holds him but restrain himself.

He just nodded and smiles sadly.

They are now in college and Ae joins the football club there. Pete on the other hand is bombarded with activities and events for the InterCollege.

He was surprised to see Tin there.

Tin and him are mutual friends through their parent’s social status. Tin told him that he came back from England and is now studying the same course as Pete.

Both are friends in a unconventional way, as Tin considers Pete as his only friend and he will often said to Pete, ‘You are so privileged to have me as you friend.’ In which Pete will only laugh.

Nobody knows this but Tin may be cold and super rude to others, but he has a kind heart. He just doesn’t trust anyone especially when they get to know his family name.

Tin was taught by his idiot elder brother about life early on. Not to trust easily and not to give your heart just to anyone.

Pete is happy that Tin is here now, though he have forgotten to introduce Tin to Ae.

Ae and him still eats breakfast together but something happen after their 2 months in college.

Ae got himself a girlfriend. Pond, Dear, Sun, Oat, Ping and Bow are all surprised with the news and all look at Pete who was smiling and cheering his special friend. ‘Congratulations! What’s her name again?’

‘Yihwa. She’s a nurse student.’ Ae said with a forced smile on his face.

The whole gang asked so many questions and teases Ae so much but it was Pond and Sun who back away a little and side by side went to Pete.

‘Pete… are you okay?’ Pond asked, sure he is nosy and an asshole to some, but he cares so much about Pete too. Pete is the most gentle creature he had ever met and he knew about Pete’s feelings.

Sun who was said to be a flirt and often jokes himself being the guy for Pete was worried. ‘Ai Pete, do you want me to do kick Ai Shorty? Just tell me?’

Pete shook his head with a smile while looking at Ae who was busy laughing and getting angry with questions from their other friends. ‘He is happy. That’s all that matters.’

Sun and Pond looks at Pete and both nodded with mutual understanding.

If Pete doesn’t want to tell Ae his feelings, then they will respect that. But should Pete ask for their help, they will give it 120% for they care and love this little Prince.

Because Ae has a girlfriend, the text messages he sent Pete every morning is being rejected:

Ae. Eat with your girlfriend. She won’t forgive you if you didn’t invite her.

I’m sorry Ae. I’m busy. (⋟﹏⋞)

I’m sorry Ae, I’m with P’Money, we have to attend an event for reference. ＿ﾉ乙(､ﾝ､)＿

Ae, I’m sorry. I’m with Tin this morning. We need to finish our reports. (T_T)

I’m sorry Ae about dinner. Tin and I are still at uni. We have a presentation tomorrow at 8am.  (つ﹏⊂)

Ae, I’m sorry I missed your call. I cannot go with you to dinner. I have to finish some essays with Tin. (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)

I’m so sorry Ae, please tell Yihwa sorry too. I know its her birthday, but I just cant go out. We have three proposal report due tomorrow. (ಥ﹏ಥ) Tin and I haven’t finish the second part. Sorry again na. I have given Pond my gift to Yihwa. Please check! I told Ai Pond not to drop it, that’s a perfume.

Ae. Please tell Yihwa that I cannot go with her. I’m so sorry again. I have to go with Tin. Our professor just tasked us to interview his dad! Can you believe? Of all people, we are to interview his dad! ⊂（゜Д゜⊂

Hello Ae. I’m so sorry. I know its your 100th and Pond told me about it. I gave Pond our gift to you guys. Enjoy!

Ae have been staring at his phone. He had been reading all the messages of him and Pete.

For the last 3-4 moths the only time he saw Pete was when he was passing by the Engineering Department to talk to a professor. He was about to go to him when the professor of their class enters and he have no choice but to go inside the room.

He was with the Tin guy he presumes. Tall, white, arrogant face.

What he understands on the last message was: “I gave Pond our gift to you guys.” >> OUR GIFT. WHO THE FUCK IS ‘OUR’?!

He read again the message and compose a new one:

AE: Hello Ai Koon Chai. Are you still busy? Yihwa and I are going out tomorrow and she told me to invite you.

Koon Chai: Then can I bring a someone?

AE: Who?

Koon Chai: Tin.

Ae reads it again and he didn’t notice how hard he was gripping his phone.

AE: I don’t know him Pete. I’m only inviting you.

Koon Chai: Oh. Then I have to decline Ae.

AE: What do you mean?! Are you saying you won’t come with us if that friend of yours isn’t with you?!

Koon Chai: Ae… please don’t get angry. I can sense your anger through your messages.

AE: Then don’t be unreasonable! I don’t know who the fuck is that guy. You keep on mentioning him to all your messages!

Koon Chai: I’m so sorry Ae. I wont’ bother you again. Please take care.

AE: AI PETE!

Ae didn’t receive any messages and he tried to call Pete only to be greeted by a busy line. He tried again and again and when 2 hours had passed, he knew Pete just blocked him.

Ae was so pissed and punches the wall. He will talk to Pete. He will not let this go. Just who the fuck is that guy as if he is someone more important than him?

Ae went to Pete’s apartment the following morning.

Ae confronted Pete on his apartment and Ae was shocked. How many months have they not seen each other? Pete looks so pale, but what stunned him was how beautiful Pete is and that he cant believe himself that he let those months passed by and he was not there to see this beauty for so many months.

‘Why did you block me?’ Ae asked in contained anger.

Pete didn’t answer and just shook his head. Ae was insisting until Pete gives in

‘Because Ae doesn’t like Tin.’

Ae was so angry with what he heard that he shouted ‘Why the hell should I like him?! Who the hell is he anyway?

‘Tin is Pete’s boyfriend Ae.’

‘What did you say?’

‘Tin is my boyfriend Ae. I am gay.’

Thanks @opald for the inspiration. hugs hugs hugs 

#LBC #love by chance #AePete #Ae #Pete #hcs #weissfai

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Somewhere On Your Road Tonight (ch. 12 of 16)

Sara and Leonard made a life for themselves, together in 1958, after the Waverider left them, Ray and Kendra behind. But now they're back on the ship, Mick has been twisted into Chronos, Kendra is pregnant, and Savage is still out there. They'll deal--together. (Sequel to "Chances Are.")

The second of the "River of Time" chapters! Turns out Leonard couldn't completely avoid everything that happened to him in the original(?) timeline.

Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta! This can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

Leonard’s wanted Savage defeated since he first saw Rip’s image of his city in flames, over the rooftops of Central City that fateful day.

He’s wanted Savage dead since the day the warlord threatened to kill Mick, not so long into their mission.

The way he feels now combines both those feelings and still makes them pale in comparison.

He pauses outside the brig and takes a few deep, steadying breaths, recalling every lesson learned though decades of being Lewis Snart’s son. He has a certain scary conviction that Lewis and Savage are more similar than anyone else might consider.

But he considers. He considers for a long few moments.

And then he saunters into the brig, head held high.

Savage isn’t facing him. The warlord is leaning against the wall, facing away. “Dr. Stein,” he starts in his oozing voice, starting to turn, “I told you, I…”

He stops when he sees his visitor, though, and Leonard thinks there’s actually a flicker of surprise there. Interesting. Leonard halts, folding his arms and regarding Savage with a mildly interested but unenthused expression. He doesn’t speak.

Savage doesn’t let on to anything past that second of surprise, though. He finishes turning, studying the thief intently, and then smiles.

“Ah,” he says, folding his hands in front of himself. “Mr. Snart. I will confess, I was not expecting a visit from you.”

Leonard tilts his head and lifts an eyebrow. It’s an invitation to continue, and Savage takes it.

“The others, certainly.” The warlord takes a deliberate step closer, then another. “They have questions, or they simply want to gawk.” The smile grows. “You, however, do not seem the sort to fall prey to such…prosaic concerns.”

Leonard smirks at him. He knows an attempt to flatter when he hears it. He wants no part of that from Vandal Savage, but he knows how to play the game.

“What can I say?” he drawls with a shrug. “I do tend to be curious.”

Savage inclines his head, keeping his eyes on Leonard.

“Well, I’m glad,” he says. “I think, perhaps, that we have more in common than the rest of this…” he waves a hand, “…motley collection Captain Hunter has assembled.”

Leonard’s eyes narrow before he can stop himself. “We’re nothing alike,” he says a bit sharply, then, cursing his reaction, smooths it out a bit. “For one thing, I’m out here.” Another tilt of his head toward Savage, locked in the brig. “And you…well.”

Oh, the other man doesn’t like that. His eyes narrow, too, before he also attempts to hide it. “But you have to know that none of this group of so-called heroes would hesitate to put you in here as well, in any other circumstance,” he said smoothly. “For simply being what you are. Something far more pragmatic and far less holier-than-thou than they are.” He spreads his hands out. “A survivor.”

He’s good. There’s just enough truth in there that once, it might have even hit a nerve. But Leonard’s been through more than he thinks Savage knows, with this team and particularly three other members of it, and he’s not the person he used to be either. Still, it seems best to play along, a little. He gives Savage a thin smile, one that could be read as agreement or simply understanding.

“Indeed,” he drawls, studying his nails. “And you’re good at that, too, aren’t you? In a manner of speaking.” He looks up, suddenly. “Too good to get trapped here so easily, I’d think.”

Savage stares, then smiles back, a similar expression, thin and considering. He waits.

And Leonard continues. “So, I’m thinking,” he says casually, starting to pace in an equally insouciant manner, “that you might just want to be here.” He turns, ambling slowly back to the left, not looking at Savage. “And I’ll admit, I’m wondering why.”

Stop. Turn. He finally looks back at the man in the brig.

Savage’s expression isn’t quite what he’d expected. He’d expected anger, or maybe surprise. Consternation, maybe. A combination of all three.

But, no. No, Savage looks thrilled. Like he’s found himself someone who gets it.

“Well. Well. Well,” the other man says. “I think we need to have a talk, Mr. Snart. I think maybe we can come to…a mutually beneficial agreement.” A pause. “Let me out, and we’ll talk. I think the Time Masters could use a clever and pragmatic man like yourself.”

And then he smiles. A big smile. A commiserating one.

It turns Leonard’s stomach, actually. He resists the wave of nausea, though, and keeps his expression steely, watching Savage, trying to decide how to play this. In some ways, Savage just confirmed something, but he needs more information. And letting Savage out won’t be good for anyone.

But neither would allowing things to continue as they are.

Leonard makes himself take one step closer to the door of the brig, the warlord’s eyes on him avidly. Then he pauses, as if considering something.

“Tell me first,” he says casually, looking at Savage. “Confirm that I’m right. That you’re working with the Time Masters.” He pauses again. “I need to hear that. Before I commit.” He lets his eyes drift to the lock. “Because if I do this…I’m committed.”

Savage studies him, his face giving nothing away. Then he starts to speak…

Raymond almost skids into the brig, like he’s been running, coming to a halt a few feet from Leonard and pulling himself up, like he’s been entrusted with a very important task. He doesn’t even look at Savage, but he grins at Leonard as if the other man has given him a very surprising gift.

“I have your back,” he tells Leonard staunchly. “I’m sorry; it took Sara a few more minutes to find me. I was…”

Leonard holds up a hand, and Raymond stops. He’d actually just about forgotten he’d asked Sara to send the other man for backup, a measure of how uneasy he was about Savage, so this is his fault, really, he thinks. There’s not even any point in blaming Raymond. More’s the pity.

For a moment, both he and Savage stare at the scientist, whose grin flags just a little.

Then Savage sighs, just a bit dramatically, and shakes his head.

“Oh, Dr. Palmer,” he says almost pityingly. “Incredibly bad timing as usual.”

Leonard can’t disagree, but Raymond’s chin goes up and he looks at his teammate as if expecting a defense. When Leonard shrugs, he rolls his eyes and looks back at Savage.

“Well,” he retorts, “could be worse. I’m out here and you’re in there, after all.”

Leonard closes his eyes with a sigh, bidding farewell to any hopes of getting more out of Savage. The warlord is focused on Raymond now, a sly smile on his face…and, oh crap, this probably isn’t good at all.

“You…now, you, I’ve been expecting for a while now,” he says a bit mockingly to the scientist. “I’m surprised it’s taken you so long, to be honest.”

Raymond starts to speak again, but Savage talks right over the top of him. “Here to ask how to free your rival’s mind, are you?” He smirks as Leonard and Raymond stare at him. “The moment I release him, you know, you will lose her forever. We're actually quite alike, you and I.”

He leers at them both…but as the silence continues and Leonard and Raymond keep staring at him, that expression flags a little. Then it vanishes, and Savage’s eyes narrow in ire.

It occurs to Leonard that they could use this. Things are clearly different than Savage—just like Chronos—had been led to believe they would be. He whips his head around to look at his teammate, his own eyes narrowed.

“Raym…” he starts to say warningly.

But it’s too late. Raymond finds his voice—and laughs at Savage, an amused sound that also manages an edge of scorn.

“Wow,” he tells the captive. “You’re really behind the times. And what makes you think Carter’s even on this ship?”

Savage takes a step closer to the clear barrier. Leonard sees something flash through his eyes—dismay, rage, consternation. A plan pops into his head, then. Probably not a good idea—OK, definitely not a good idea—but sometimes you gotta roll the dice.

“Chay-Ara would never…” Savage starts.

“First, she’s not Chay-Ara now. She’s Kendra. Second, that wasn’t even Carter, or the version of Khufu she knew,” Raymond informs him. “Third…”

Leonard steps in before the altogether-too-forthcoming scientist can spill even more beans than he has. “I think,” he says smoothly, “that we need…more information.” He gives Raymond a look. The other man’s eyes widen, and he gives Leonard a solemn look in return, but Leonard’s already studying Savage again.

“Raymond,” he says quietly. “Go away.”

“Yeah…what?” But then Raymond nods, jerkily, and takes a step back as Leonard glances over. “Oh. Um. OK.” He looks at Savage. And then smirks. Widely. “OK.”

Leonard’s almost proud at the sheer un-Raymond-like attitude. But he waits another long moment for the other man to leave before looking back at Savage. The warlord is staring after the scientist with an expression that looks part baffled and part enraged.

“So,” Leonard drawls, dragging Savage’s attention back to him, “where were we?”

Savage stares at him a moment, then steps closer to the glass. “The man named Carter Hall,” he says. “He isn’t on this ship?”

Leonard considers lying, just for a moment. “Nope,” he drawls, though, folding his arms. “I mean, he was, at best, a reincarnation of Carter Hall. And he was a real asshat.” Savage actually snorts, and Leonard smirks. But he doesn’t say anything more about that.

Instead, he redirects the conversation again. “We were talking,” he says casually, stepping closer. “And…?”

Savage regards him. “Let me out,” he says finally. “I need a gesture too. Before I give you anything.”

Leonard regards him in return. Then he pulls his cold gun out of his holster and primes it, pushing it to the highest setting.

This is a bad idea. This is a very bad idea. But every instinct in him says they’re on their way to disaster at the Vanishing Point. And the need to stand between that and Sara…and frankly, all the others…is strong indeed. If he can get anything, anything at all, out of Savage…well, he’ll do it.

He hesitates a moment…and then slaps the lock to the brig, opening the door.

Savage steps out, face solemn, eyes bright and altogether too pleased. Leonard points the cold gun at him, grimly, watching him intently for any sign of the trouble he’s sure is coming.

“OK,” he grits out. “You’re out. Tell me. What are the Time Masters up to?”

Savage smiles, holding his hands out to either side. “I’ll admit, I’m still wondering,” he says smoothly. “You were…not a visitor I expected. I thought, at first, that perhaps it was just that native pragmatism, that you saw how the wind was blowing and came to make a deal.” He takes a step toward Leonard. “But. I wonder.”

Leonard’s eyes narrow. He raises his gun a little, aiming it right at the warlord, the blue light reflected in Savage’s eyes. “This wasn’t the deal. I want to know about the Time Masters.”

Savage continues as if he hadn’t spoken. “From everything I know of you, Mr. Snart, you’re not one to care about anyone other than yourself. Not much, anyway. Your partner the arsonist, perhaps, to some extent.” He tilts his head. “But. Something has changed. Hasn’t it? Well, well. And how did that happen?” His smile grows even slyer. “You care for someone on this crew of losers.”

Leonard steps forward before he can stop himself, hand tightening on the cold gun’s trigger. “Talk or get back in the goddamned brig,” he hisses. “I just want to know the truth.”

“It’s not Chay-Ara. Or the scientist,” Savage muses, continuing his thought. “Certainly not the captain.” A light appears in his eyes. “Ah. The assassin. Oooh, Mr. Snart. She is lovely. Is that what you want, then? You want the Time Masters to give her to you. In exchange for…”

The very idea is both absurd and stomach-churching, and Leonard can’t keep this up any longer. “Don’t you even say her name,” he snaps, unable to keep the fury from his tone. “You…

But he’s distracted now, angry and disgusted, and it’s enough. Savage takes the chance, lunging like a striking snake and grabbing the cold gun, wrenching it around. Leonard catches himself quickly enough to fight him for it, but while they’re grappling for the gun, Savage gets a hand on the trigger and a spray of blue-white energy emits from it, freezing an icy path across the ceiling, the wall, and…

And, as Savage gives the weapon another jerk, across Leonard’s right hand.

He yells, but it’s not like it hurts. Not at first. It’s too much of a shock, a jarring sensation of extreme cold and then numbness. More than numbness, really, though that’s how his brain processes it. Because at that setting, the hand isn’t even living flesh anymore; it’s already shreds of dead, frozen tissue encased in ice. There’s no saving it, and he can’t think about that right now, he can’t, he’s still fighting Savage as best he can.

But the blast was a shock to his system, and no matter how he tries to hang onto the gun with his other hand, his body and his brain have other ideas, like shutting down and curling up to figuratively lick his wounds. Savage yanks the gun away, laughing triumphantly, and…

Raymond crashes back into the brig, in his Atom suit, hand out and energy beam blasting forward to strike the surprised Savage full on, smashing the warlord across the room and into the wall. He drops like a stone, unconscious, the cold gun skittering across the floor in a way that would irritate Leonard if he wasn’t trying desperately to stay conscious despite the shock. It still doesn’t quite hurt; he’s pretty sure that will come later as things start… thawing…

Raymond studies Savage for a second, then apparently decides the man is truly down for the count and looks at Leonard instead. Leonard, glancing upward as a cold sweat breaks out on his forehead, sees Raymond’s eyes widen as he steps forward.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Oh, crap. Snart…”

Leonard knows he probably owes the scientist his life, but he’s not up for admitting that just yet. “You…coulda…busted in here…sooner,” he pants, curled protectively around the hand that is no longer really a hand.

“I went and got my suit, just in case; I’ve only been back a moment and I didn’t realize you were in trouble at first.” There’s distress in the scientist’s eyes as Leonard peers up at him. “Let’s get you to the medbay.”

“We need…to get Savage…back in the cell first.”

“You can’t…”

That’s when Rip runs into the room, his gun in his hand, although he puts on the brakes immediately to take in the scene in front of him. Relief at the sight of Savage out of commission resolves into dismay at the sight of Leonard and his hand…and faint irritation that seems to be directed at Raymond.

“Bloody hell,” he says with an explosive sigh. “Gideon said Vandal Savage was free. Dr. Palmer, do you realize…”

“I didn’t let him out!” the other man protests. “It was…ah…”

The room’s starting to swim in front of Leonard’s eyes, and the line where living flesh meets frozen is starting to, it seems, register what’s happened. He puts his shoulder against the wall, closing his eyes and fighting nausea and a rising tide of pain, then forces them open again.

“Don’t blame him, Rip,” he mutters. “It was me.”

The look of consternation on Rip’s face would be amusing if he was in a little better condition. Leonard shakes his head roughly, trying to clear his head. He can’t even manage his usual smirk.

“I’m going to presume that you weren’t trying to set him loose on all of us, but then what…” The captain stops himself and sighs. “But not now. Let’s get you to the medbay and get you fixed up.”

There’s only so much fixing that’s going to be possible, and Leonard doesn’t want to think about it. “Who’s flying the ship?” he mutters, watching as Rip and Raymond drag the still-senseless Savage into the brig and close the door securely. “Thought there was enough damage you needed someone on the bridge.”

“Ms. Lance, actually,” the captain tells him, dusting his hands off and scowling at Savage’s prone figure through the clear barrier. “With Gideon’s assistance.”

“Huh.” Leonard closes his eyes again. He’s starting to gray out…and he’s pretty sure he’s going to lose the battle against it soon.

“Good,” he slurs. “Good. Most competent person on this…bucket…”

And that’s when he passes out.

When Leonard wakes up again, there’s no more pain. Except for some residual grogginess, his head is clear, though there’s the sort of distance he associates with good painkillers, the kind he rarely allows himself to take.

And he doesn’t have a right hand.

Leonard tilts his head and studies the stump clinically, glad for the distance granted by drugs, for once. While he was out, someone must have melted what remained of the hand and trimmed the dead flesh away, which wouldn’t have been a pleasant process. The line of amputation otherwise seems to be clean. Odd.

He’s in a medbay-type chair, slightly reclined, and his right arm is resting, lightly strapped down, on a low table next to it. Above the stump, there’s a suspended, thin cylinder that’s glowing glue and pointed downward. He’s only started studying it, though, when Rip bustles into the room, Mick right behind him.

“Ah, you are awake!” The captain nods to him, then starts tapping at a screen nearby. “This will just be a moment, Mr. Snart. We’ve slowed our approach just for you, I’ll have you know. Thought you’d want to go through this first, given your trepidation about the Vanishing Point.”

Leonard frowns at him, but he’s also distracted by Mick, who’s standing there at the foot of the chair, glaring at him in a way in which Leonard’s pretty sure he’s glared at Mick after any number of particularly foolish moves over the years.

“You’re an idiot,” Mick tells his friend, tone harsh in a way that Leonard knows perfectly well hides other feelings.

Well, things may be different now, but Leonard’s not really up for having that talk at the moment. “No argument,” he says, resting his head back against the chair. “Ship OK? I mean, we’re apparently not dead.”

Rip ignores him. Mick scowls. “Not for lack of trying,” he mutters, then repeats: “Idiot.”

Leonard gives him a long-suffering look, then blinks, remembering the state of other things before his own debacle with Savage. “Wait. How’s the kid?”

“Jax? Gone.” Mick waves a hand as Leonard’s eyes widen. “Not like that. Me an’ the professor sent him back to 2016 to save his life. Should work.”

“Good.” Well, at least one of them might get out of this alive.

“Well, not for the professor.” However, Mick continues before Leonard can ask about that. “You’re a lucky bastard, Snart. But you still gotta face the music for being a dumbass.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was a stupid move. I…”

“No. I meant Blondie. She’s gonna be in here next.” Mick grins evilly as Leonard closes his eyes. “Have fun. I suggest groveling.”

“I don’t grovel.” He hates the whine in his own voice, but frankly, it’s been a rough day. Mick just chuckles, shakes his head, and leaves.

“Oh, given Ms. Lance’s ire, I think you might want to consider it.” Rip claps his hands together. “Especially since you’re going to be a captive audience for the next little while. Gideon, start the regeneration process.”

The pen thing starts to glow more. Leonard eyes it, and Rip, with uncertainty. “What do you mean by ‘regeneration?’” He’d make a Doctor Who joke if he was in a better mood. As it is, he’s feeling a quiver of hope he didn’t suspect was possible.

“I took genetic samples from each of you at the start of our voyage,” the captain tells him almost cheerfully, “for this exact eventuality.”

It’s a little disconcerting, that Rip thought it was that possible this would be necessary. A spray of blue light is now emitting from the pen thing, spilling onto the stump of Leonard’s right arm. He stares at it, feeling his skin prickle.

“Why am I only hearing about this now?” he drawls, glancing at the captain.

Rip actually smiles. “Because none of you had lost a limb yet.”

Good point. Leonard watches in fascination as the light grows stronger, and then: “Ow.”

It’s like it’s a 3-D printer, but for flesh and bone. And it seems like it should actually be hurting far more than it is, considering that there’s now a skeletal hand protruding from the blunt termination of his wrist. And the sight’s both creepy and incredible, but it’s not like that for long—next is a network of nerves and blood vessels, muscles, and then skin, over the top of it all like a blank slate, scars he’s had for decades gone as it they’d never been there.

The entire process takes seconds. Leonard’s new fingers twitch involuntarily as he stares at them. He’d forced himself not to think about what life would hold for a thief without his dominant hand, and this…this is a miracle unlooked for. He’s not sure what to do with it.

Rip chuckles, the sound full of pleasure in the tricks his beloved ship has up her metaphorical sleeve. In a smooth motion, he tosses something toward Leonard, and the other man catches it involuntarily—a stress ball, the sort used to exercise injured or weak hands or wrists.

“Stay here until you’re sure you’re steady,” the captain instructs. “You’ve had a great many shocks to your system.” The smile goes a little sly. “And, as Mr. Rory said, you have to face the music.”

Leonard stares after him as he tries to tell his hand to contract its fingers around the ball. He’s still watching the door when Sara stalks in.

He’s already mentally rehearsing what he’s going to say to her, but that all flies out the window when he gets a good look. He’d expected anger and irritation for doing such a dumb thing—and those emotions are there, in spades. He deserves them, and he knows that.

But as she steps closer, he can see Sara’s eyes are red-rimmed, the bright blue even brighter in contrast with her skin. She’s been crying. About him? Or is something else…

“What’s wrong?” he blurts out uncharacteristically.

Sara’s eyes narrow. Oops.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him, voice matter-of-fact.

“Mick has informed me of that fact.” Leonard pauses, searching for the right thing to say. “I’m sorry?”

Sara rolls her eyes at him, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “You better be,” she mutters, inspecting his hand, which is resting again on the table. “That’s incredible.”

Leonard tries to get his fingers to flex again and is pleased when they respond, mostly. “Yeah. I’ll admit that. I owe ol’ Rip.”

Sara eyes him again. She’s all too obviously not going to let herself be distracted. “ ‘What’s wrong,’” she repeats carefully. “Did you really mean that?”

Leonard blinks at her. “Yes? Mick said Stein found a way to save Jax. Is there something…”

He lets his voice trail off. Given the look Sara’s giving him, it seems the best thing to do.

She sits back in her chair a moment and studies him, then shakes her head. “Do you have any idea,” she says carefully. “what you looked like when Mick carried you into the medbay earlier?”

“No?”

“You were unconscious, pale as…as ice. And your hand…” Sara takes a deep breath. “It was melting. And there were…rags…of dead skin, blackened flesh, hanging off your arm. It was…I’ve seen some rough things, Leonard. This was…it was bad. And what was there was rough, jagged, and…” She let her voice trail off then. “Gideon sedated you so you wouldn’t wake up in the middle of it, and Stein helped walk me through…cleaning things up.”

Leonard swallows hard. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” Sara glares at him. “What on earth possessed you to let Savage out? You kept saying he was a danger to all of us. What…”

“I thought I could get him to tell me what he was up to. ‘Cause it turned out he thought I was there to throw my lot in with his.” He gives her a thin smile as she swears. “I’m a villain, after all.”

“You’re more than that, and everyone on this ship but Vandal Savage knows it.” Sara studies him. “Still a stupid thing to do.”

“Indubitably.”

“You tried to play him.” She shakes her head. “And he used me against you. Yeah, Gideon gave us access to the video records. I heard it. He distracted you.”

The last thing—one of the last things—Leonard wants is for her to blame herself in any shape or form. “If it wasn’t you, it would have been something else,” he admits. “The minute I let him out of the brig. But…”

“But Savage worries you that much.”

“Yeah.” He hesitates. “He came pretty close to confirming that he’s working with the Time Masters, even if I didn’t get him to say it point blank. Did Rip see that?”

Sara sighs. “After the fact, yes. But it didn’t change anything. He thinks this is our only option.” She stands, then, and holds a hand out to him, and Leonard knows he’s (mostly) forgiven. He slips his left hand into hers, levering himself upward with a grunt, and has to pause to fight back vertigo. After a moment, they start back into the hallway, though Sara steers him in the direction of the bridge instead of their room.

“We’re almost to the Vanishing Point,” she says quietly. “I think we both probably want to see what happens.”

Leonard would really like to lie down, which seems silly given that he’s apparently spent a good deal of time unconscious recently. But Sara’s right about that.

“Hear you flew the ship,” he says, trying to make his tone light, glancing over at her.

“Yeah.” Sara’s lips curve. “Not a thing I’d ever thought I’d want to do. But I enjoyed it.”

“Told our captain you were the most competent person on this ship.” He chuckles a little as she lifts an eyebrow at him. “And then I passed out. That’s one way to get the last word around here.”

“Yeah, well, don’t you ever try it on me.”

All of the others are on the bridge, all watching the viewscreen, when they enter. Leonard ignores Raymond’s enthusiastic greeting and requests to see his new hand and nods in acknowledgement of Stein and Kendra’s pleased welcome—and Mick’s still-irritated grunt. He sits with alacrity in one of the jump seats, trying not to look like he’s exhausted from walking just the distance from the medbay to the bridge.

“Is that…” Sara starts, stepping closer to where Rip is sitting, staring out the viewscreen. Leonard looks, too. The odd, complicated jumble of black structures there at the supposed edge of the timeline is like nothing he’s ever seen before, but…

He shakes his head roughly as a shiver runs down his spine.

“Welcome to the Vanishing Point,” Rip tells them.

And Leonard feels…

The closest thing he can think of is the start of a panic attack. The breathless feeling of something-not-right-something-horribly-wrong, the way his heart starts racing, the chill that overtakes him. He drags in a deep breath, trying to regain control. None of the others seem to notice…well, except for Mick, who’s watching him with narrowed eyes.

“I can't believe we made it,” Stein is saying.

Sara hums in agreement, then pauses. There’s a slight hitch in the ship’s motion, and Leonard feels it too, but he’s focusing too much on regulating his breathing to say anything.

“Did you just lose control of the ship?” she asks.

“Yeah, that might have something to do with us being the most wanted time criminals in all of history.” Rip hops up from the captain’s chair, smiling as if he hadn’t just said something rather alarming.

As he does so, a man’s face appears on their viewscreen, stern and unfamiliar.

“Timeship Waverider, we've taken control of your guidance systems,” he announces. “Disable your weapons and prepare to be boarded.”

Rip chuckles. “Oh, it's good to be home.”

The other Time Master pauses. “Captain Hunter,” he says. “This is…unexpected.”

“Well, I have a reputation to maintain, don't I?” Rip smiles at him. “And I hereby request an immediate assembly of the Time Council in accordance with General Order 52.”

“So you've returned to answer for your crimes?”

“No. I'm here to justify them.”

They’re at the Vanishing Point now. There’s only so much they can do, even if Leonard’s right and this is all going to go downhill fast.

Sara makes sure she has an array of knives tucked around her person—but then, she always does. She doesn’t miss that Leonard immediately goes to the armory to find his cold gun, double-checking it before holstering it securely at his side.

But then they both return to their room. If everything does all to hell, they want to be together.

The others had disappeared to their own various pursuits when Rip had left the ship. Sara sighs as she looks around the room, trying to figure out if there’s anything more they can do. She hates waiting.

Leonard, who’s still edgy in a way that’s clearly nerves, scoops their deck of cards up from the desk and waves it at her. And it seems like there would be worse things.

It’s not a good game, though. He’s jumpy and unhappy, and he keeps flexing the fingers of his right hand like he can’t believe they’re there. For her part, Sara keeps seeing, in her mind’s eye, what Leonard had looked like when she’d entered the brig only…what, a few hours ago? They’re both distracted, and they’re not playing well, and…

Leonard’s head jerks up again, the third time in maybe a minute.

“Did you hear that?” he asks, eyes darting around.

She hadn’t, actually. “Don't try to distract me.”

Another moment passes. Leonard suddenly gets to his feet, crossing to the door, listening intently. “We need to find somewhere to hide.”

Sara sits down her cards and cautiously joins him. “Could we fight our way out?” she asks carefully. She can’t hear whatever he seems to be hearing. Which is odd, actually.

But Leonard shakes his head emphatically. “No,” he says, then reaches out to take her hand. “C’mon.”

Sara lets him take it but raises her voice. “Gideon, warn the others!”

Only silence greets her words.

#captain canary #legends of tomorrow #somewhere on your road tonight

[neverstranger]

Sugar Rush 1

[A series of fan fictions dedicated to the ship of Dylan Wang and Shen Yue]

When Dylan Wang first saw Shen Yue, he thought she was rather plain. She was this thin sulky girl on the corner of the room. She looked like she didn’t want to be there and she poked and pressed on her phone like it was nobody’s business. It was so awkward because Dylan was supposed to work with this girl for four straight months at least.

“Hey, hey. Look at Shen Yue.” Xize called for their attention. They were all inside a waiting area, passing time before they had to be called for script reading prior to shooting.

There were a few people in the room. All their road managers were around the table, talking about something. The four of them, Chen Kuan Hong or Darren Chen, Liang Jing Kang or Connor Leong, Wu Xize or Caesar Wu, and him Wang He Di or Dylan Wang, were settled on the sofas near the door.

But Shen Yue was all alone in a leather armchair near the window.  

When they all got here, she was already on the chair, typing away on her phone. She nodded at them when they entered the room, but after that they were ignored.

“What’s up with her? Is she a snob or something?” Dylan couldn’t help but ask. He arched his eyebrows towards Shen Yue’s direction. If he’s going to have to work with this girl and she keeps this up, he assumed they will have problems.

“I guess she’s tired.” Kuan Hong said, looking her way. “Oh look!” He pointed silently.

They all turned to look at her. She was silently dozing off, her right hand propping her head up.

“She’s pretty cute, isn’t it?” Liang Jing Kang commented.

All three of them looked at him, puzzled.

“You like her?” Xize exclaimed, bewildered.

“What? No. I was just observing her.” Liang Jing Kang deadpanned. “Don’t you think she’s cute? She’s so little.”

“Yeah, she’s so small.” Kuan Hong laughed. “She’d look like a kid next to us, especially to you, man.” He pointed at Dylan.

“Yeah. You’d be doing lots of scenes with her.” Xize said to Dylan.

“I don’t know if that would suck or not.” Dylan sighed.

The four of them dropped the topic of Shen Yue at the same time. They talked about the most random things: basketball, Liang Jing Kang’s shoes, their road managers, and the script.

But Dylan’s eyes would occasionally dart from Shen Yue’s location to the other three. She really had to be tired, seeing as she was already knocked out on the chair. This time, she wasn’t pretending to be awake by propping her head up. Now, she was lying across the armchair, with her head on one arm rest and both her legs on the other, fast asleep.

Her arms were folded on top of her chest, and Dylan could see that she was slightly shivering. He hadn’t noticed before, but her face was also kind of pale.

Dylan was about to say something when Shen Yue’s road manager got up from the table, pulled a blanket from one of the bags, then wrapped Shen Yue in it. She was awaken by that motion from her road manager, but her road manager just whispered something to her then she fell back asleep.

Soon, all the road managers went to their place on the sofas.

“Hey guys, do you want to grab something to eat? They said script reading won’t start until two hours later.” Kuan Hong’s road manager said.

All at once, the other three started to speak, mentioning restaurants around the place and food they should order. But Dylan’s eyes immediately searched for Shen Yue. And true to his hunch, the noise was bugging her sleep. Her brows were scrunched, and she was clutching her blanket closer.

“Hey, hey guys. Could you speak more silently? Yueyue’s asleep.” It was Shen Yue’s manager who spoke.

“Is she sick?” Dylan couldn’t help but ask.

“She’s a little feverish. She hasn’t had enough sleep for three days and she’s eating little so…” The woman trailed off.

They all went silent for a while, most of them looking at Shen Yue who was now facing the backrest of the armchair.

“Are we gonna leave her here? I don’t think that will be a good idea.” Kuan Hong said.

“Should we just order takeaway?” asked Dylan. Then he ventured slightly. “She’s sick. She has to eat. Maybe we should order something she’d like so she’ll definitely eat?”

 ---

Shen Yue was awakened by her road manager when the ramen arrived.

They all crowded the table, but there wasn’t enough space so Dylan, Kuan Hong and Xize had to eat on the low coffee table by the couch. The three of them sat cross legged, blowing the steam to each other’s faces. They were all laughing when a Shen Yue wrapped in a blanket placed her bowl on the table, waddled a little then plonked beside Dylan. She smiled at them like she was getting a treat, then proceeded to eat.

This left the boys to stare at her. Kuan Hong was one of the braver kinds to initiate conversation.

“You’re gonna choke on that.” Kuan Hong commented, quite amused. Shen Yue was wolfing down noodles at a very fast rate.

“Nah.” She looked at him, waving her chopsticks.

“I’m pretty sure you’re gonna.” Xize said, watching her warily as he ate his ramen.

And just like what they thought, the girl started coughing after a few minutes. Dylan was very quick to give her water.

“Slow down, missy. No one’s taking that.” Dylan said as he helped her to some table napkins. Shen Yue managed to smile at them before taking a big breath.

“Thanks.” She smiled, biting on one of her fish cakes. “I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself, I’m Shen Yue by the way.” She extended her hand for them to shake.

After doing so, all of them fell silent, enjoying the meal. Xize would occasionally strike up a conversation, but all of them would go back to eating or scrolling on their phones.

Dylan took this as an opportunity to look at Shen Yue closely. She was sitting adjacent to him, eating away on her katsu. She would take occasional glances around the room and outside the window, but only when she was not so busy chewing her food. He took this as a good time to talk to her.

“You’re not sick anymore?” Dylan asked.

She looked at her with wide eyes, at first with shock, then with a look that said she was mulling over her answer. Then she shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m feeling a little dizzy though.” She pushed her plate of katsu away. “How did you know I was sick?”

“Your road manager told us.” he said, earning a nod from her. Then he promptly added. “You’re Chen Xiaoxi right?”

She looked bashful. Shen Yue gave a silent ‘yeah’ before returning to her food.

“Some of my friends watched it, they loved you there.” Xize commented from the other end of the table.

“Chen Xiaoxi? Is that a character for what drama?” Kuan Hong asked.

“A Love So Beautiful. She played the lead there, Chen Xiaoxi who was so in love with Jiang Chen.” Xize explained to Kuan.

Kuan nodded, then he turned to Shen Yue. “Can I watch it?”

“Oh you better not!” Shen Yue said. Then she added shyly. “It wasn’t my best, and it’d be really awkward.”

Kuan smiled. “It would not. I’m sure it was good.”

Shen Yue waved her chopsticks again, shaking her head with it. “No. Please don’t. It was bad enough I was in it.”

They all laughed after that. The other three went on to ask each other about previous shows they starred in. Kuan and Shen Yue even recalled their brief meeting in Taiwan months back. Shen Yue was laughing about Kuan’s hair, and Kuan was trying to find things he could tease Shen Yue about, but to no avail.

Dylan sat and laughed with them, looking back and forth to his co-workers. They all looked like doe-eyed people in naturally high spirits. Eventually, Liang Jing Kang joined them and they killed time by chattering about the most nonsensical things. They laughed at the littlest details of stories they would tell.

It was five minutes to three in the afternoon when someone from the production team of Meteor Garden knocked on the door to inform them that the script reading would be in five minutes. All of them stood up and started stretching, except for Shen Yue who was still wrapped in a blanket and waddling back to her leather armchair.

“You look like a burrito.” Dylan commented as Shen Yue started to untangle herself from the blanket. She arched an eyebrow at him before smiling.

“Do I?”

“Yeah.”

 ---

 Shortly after the script reading, Angie Chai invited all of them to dinner. They went to a hotpot place with almost all of the main cast and the whole team.

They almost occupied the whole restaurant. Dylan, Kuan Hong, Wu Xize, Liang Jing Kang, Shen Yue, Li Jia Qi, Sun Yi Han and other cast members sat on a separate table. It seemed to Dylan that they all clicked immediately. Everyone was talking merrily to each other like they had been friends for a long time, and they were starting to have inside jokes.

After eating, they even went to a KTV bar to have some “good time before hell starts” according to Angie Chai. They occupied a large room and soon enough, everybody was hooting and singing.

Dylan was having a good time himself. He had a few drinks and was singing along happily to Liang Jing Kang when someone from the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was Shen Yue, and she was sitting at a corner again with her legs folded up to her chest. She appeared to be embracing herself and shivery, but she would sometimes sing along to whatever song is up.

Shen Yue caught his eye, and she winked at him before looking at the screen again. Within a heartbeat, Dylan was sitting beside her.

“Hey, you coming down with that fever again?” He asked, bowing down a little to see her face. She was pale, and her eyes were puffy and teary. “You look sick.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll have two days off starting tomorrow, it’s gonna be fine.” she smiled, patting his arm. “How about you? Enjoying this?” she gestured in front of her.

Dylan looked at one of the associate producers belting a Chinese ballad. He sounds really awful, but they were all laughing and cheering for him. Then the guy tried to reach a high note.

“I’m having ear cancer.”

“Yeah me too. He shouldn’t be allowed to sing.”

They both sniggered. They continued to secretly badmouth a few of their co-workers including Kuan Hong when Dylan realized that Shen Yue was slowly dozing off again. She was trying to keep her eyes open, but her head was falling back to the couch’s backrest.

“Missy, I think you should go home.” Dylan slightly nudged her slightly, which made her bolt upright.

After Dylan was done laughing, Shen Yue replied, “Ugh, I’m so sleepy but I don’t want to leave yet. If I leave early, they’ll end the night early too.”

“How about you sleep for a while? Fifteen minutes is good for a powernap, and I’ll go cover you?” Dylan offered.

She seemed to be pondering over her choices, but after a minute or so, she raised her thumb at him then slightly leaned on the backrest. Dylan looked around, seeing if anyone can see her sleeping at this angle. It was pretty exposed, so Dylan had to sit closer to Shen Yue in order to hide her completely from view.

In the end, Shen Yue ended up sleeping for a whole thirty minutes, with her head leaning on his back. It was kind of painful for Dylan, for he had to lean forward in an awkward position to support her head and still hide her from view.

It was past midnight when they all decided to go home. It was also Dylan’s cue to wake Shen Yue up.

“Shen Yue…” he called gently, tapping her knees. “It’s time to wake up.”

After several taps, she finally took a sharp breath on Dylan’s back before stretching her limbs. Dylan straightened his back and listened as his bones snapped.

“That’s more than fifteen minutes, Wang He Di.” she said, rubbing her eyes with her clenched fists.

“You slept for thirty minutes. Am I not the best? Nobody saw you.” He jabbed his thumb towards the crowd.

This smug remark earned a ‘tch’ from her. The both of them stood up and stretched as their road managers called for them.

When they reached the parking lot, all of them said their ‘goodbyes’ and ‘see you soons’.

“Ya, thanks for the nap a while ago.” Shen Yue said, smiling up at him. She was really little.

“You should drink some medicine, missy.” He raised his hand for a wave good-bye. “Bye.”

“Bye Dao Ming Si.”

“Bye Shan Cai.”

They both smiled and winked at each other.

On the drive home, Dylan Wang could not stop thinking about the day and his co-workers. He thought he would be good friends with the rest of the new F4, plus Shen Yue was pretty nice.

And… alright, she was pretty cute too.

#meteor garden 2018 #shen yue #dylan wang #wang hedi #fanfic #diyue #dyshen

[taejinpurple-blog]

ARTISTIC BEAUTY OF LOVE- CHAPTER 7

Fluffy Romantic Story about two guys who became friends and blossomed into something more.

*Mature Scenes later on.*

Trigger Warning: Speaks about sexual abuse in later chapters.

I did my best with editing. Sorry in advance if there are any mistakes. But I really tried to make sure there were not many. Please enjoy

Previous Chapter: https://hopeless-taejinstan.tumblr.com/post/172522302350/artistic-beauty-of-love-chapter-6

Jin impatiently tapped his fingers on the table. Youngsoo sipped his rum while holding his youngest daughter. Haneul smiled watching his older grandchildren sing to him.

Jin poured himself a glass of rum and cola.

“Where’s your friend?” Youngsoo asked.

“I don’t know Mom said Noona wanted him to wear something she designed.” He shrugged. He honestly couldn’t image Tae wearing anything else besides overalls. He cleared his throat trying to contain his laughter.

Haneul looked at his youngest son. “Tell us more about your girlfriend.”

Jin took a sip of his drink. “She’s a senior at the college I go to, she’s majoring in accounting and she’s the daughter of Tang Korain.”

“Oh Tang Korain! I know him very well, Youngsoo and I been doing business with him for the past six months now. He’s a swell guy.” Haneul smiled as Jin mentally rolled his eyes. He just hoped his relationship with Miyeon didn’t turn into a business transaction.

“For Christmas, she invited me to meet her parents and I guess after Christmas you can meet her.” Jin took another sip of his drink.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Chunhei sang. Jin turned around and his eyes hit Tae. He sucked in his breath making his drink go down the wrong pipe. He began coughing. Haneul patted his back as Youngsoo raised his eyebrows in awe.

“Hyung, are you alright?” Tae ran up to him.

Jin cleared his throat and couldn’t help but stare at him. The last time he seen him without his glasses was when he drew the picture of him. Even though he thought Tae was good looking then, he couldn’t even put into words how looked now.

Tae’s bang was trimmed slightly and parted to the left. His hair was combed neatly with a tad bit of gel to hold it in place. He had on a button cream colored shirt that was tucked in a pair of black slacks. He looked down at the shiny black shoes. He noticed how small Tae’s waistline was. He almost looked like he belonged to a wealthy household himself.

Tae tilted his head. “Hyung?”

Jin shook his head regaining his composure.

“I’m fine, you look handsome.”

“Thank you.”

“You definitely do Taehyung,” Haneul said. “You’re a very good looking young man.”

Youngsoo nodded his head agreeing and Tae’s cheeks turned red.

“Thank you.”

“Alright let’s eat,” Mihi said. “And please don’t hold back at all.”

~~~~*~~~~

After dinner and dessert, Jin gave Tae a tour of his brother’s home. Tae’s eyes stayed glued to everything artistic bit in sight. Jin, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his eyes off Tae. He really couldn’t believe how handsome he was. His features almost made him seem unreal a bit.

His mouth opened to say something until Tae gasped and ran over to a painting on the wall.

“They have a painting by Sobong Namkyu-nim! So this is what his professional paintings look like. Amazing! It’s far better than I could remember.” He clapped his hands excitedly.

Jin looked at the painting. It was a landscape painting of a sunrise at the beach. He had to admit it was a warm painting. If he remembered correctly Chunhei got the painting last year some time.

“You know the person who painted this?”

Tae nodded his head vigorously.

“Sobong-nim was my art teacher and mentor during high school. He wrote a great recommendation for me to use for college.”

“You knew him throughout high school?”

“No, I took art only in the twelfth grade.”

“R-Really?!” Jin gapped at him. “But you’re so good! I thought you would’ve been an art student since grade school or something.”

Tae chuckled. “I drew a lot during my free time but other than that I was always hanging out with my friends, playing video games and shopping for clothes.” He shrugged. Jin’s eyes widened and Tae covered his mouth. He didn’t mean to let that slip, he hated when rambled sometimes.

Jin turned to face him. “What made you change so drastically like that?” He asked, and Tae looked down.

“I just remembered I didn’t call my mom. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He ran down the hall.

“Taehyung wait!” Jin called out. Tae closed his eyes and ran faster. Jin sighed placing his hands on his hips. “Babo, you’re going the wrong way, you’re room is this way!”

Tae stopped once he was down the hall and turned back around. He walked back towards Jin.

“I knew that.”

Jin gently bopped him on the head. “I swear, what am I gonna do with you?”

~~~~*~~~~

“Okay Tae, I just miss you so much, honey. I want to see you for Christmas at least. I love you and be safe. Okay, bye.” Minju hung up the phone as Jihun ran to her.

“Mom was that Hyung? Is he coming home?” He asked feeling hopeful.

“Not this time, but he said Christmas he would come home.”

“I miss him.” He sighed dejectedly.

“I do too. Anyway, let’s set up the table. Your aunt and uncles should be here soon.”

The front door opened and Jihun ran to the door smiling.

“Hey honey.” Minju smiled. “You’re finally home.” She giggled. Yeong kissed his wife and hugged his stepson.

“Sorry, my job held me up but they also gave us some stuff as an apology. We got pumpkin pie, fruit cake, and a small turkey.” He said looking in the box he had on the floor. Yeong then looked around. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“He had to stay because he was taking extra classes.”

“He’s such a hard worker. I’m proud of him.” Yeong smiled taking the box in the kitchen.

“I’m proud of him too.”

“I’ll wash up before the others get here.” Yeong left out the kitchen and headed upstairs.

“Hey Dad, you’re finally home.” Hyeon smiled.

He placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Finally, I’m gonna wash up before the others come.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” he asked walking downstairs and looking around.

“He’s coming for Christmas,” Mijun said.

“Oh I see …do you need help?”

“Sure, can you set these plates please dear. Jihun, take the cups.”

“What a shame I was hoping to see Taehyung. I wanted to tease him about school. I hope he’s doing good.” Hyeon said while licking his lips.

“Don’t worry, he is.” Mijun smiled patting his back and walking away.

~~~~*~~~~

Jin sat next to his mother who was in the indoor patio while drinking chai tea. She looked at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel stressed.” He moaned slouching back in the chair and letting his long legs stretch.

“Why?” She gave him her full attention, it wasn’t every day that he opened up to talk.

“It’s Taehyung.” He began. “I don’t get him, he’s so confusing. The way he acts and the things he says doesn’t always add up. Like he just told me before he got into art he was a regular teenager, hanging with friends and playing video games and shopping for clothes. You look at him now you would swear he doesn’t own one mirror in his room or house. How can a person go from caring about their appearance to not even putting a comb through their hair at least once a day? I don’t get it and the way he looked tonight …I feel like that’s how he used to look.”

“Jin, do you have feelings for Taehyung?” she asked and his eyes widened.

“F-F-Feelings? Like how?”

She shrugged. “However.”

“Not romantic feelings but I do care and worry about him a lot. I don’t want anything to happen to him and actually, I don’t think I would ever let anything happen to him. That is why I brought him here with me when I found out he wasn’t going home.”

Mihi smiled softly. “So he’s truly your dongsaeng?” He nodded. “It seems you two have mutual feelings.” Jin tilted his head. “I asked him if he had feelings for you.”

“Of course you did.”

“I will tell you this …” He looked at her. “if you’re gonna continued to be Hyung to him then stick to it. He really cherishes his relationship with you.”

“Why would I change?” He shrugged.

“You have a girlfriend and women get jealous easily.”

“One Taehyung is a guy and two Miyeon already knows how our relationship is and she’s fine with it.” He said making his mother laugh. “What?”

“Anyway, as far as Taehyung goes …just protect him. He’s been through something major.”

“Major? How do you know?”

She sipped her tea. “I’ve only been a counselor for abused and battered victims since Youngsoo was three.”

His cheeks heated up from his silly question.

“When you say major …major like what? Was his family abusive? Was he bullied in high school?”

Mihi looked down sadly before looking at her son. “He did tell me …but it’s not my place to tell you. He has to tell you when he’s ready and seeing that he didn’t want to talk about his change after his junior year of high school shows he’s not ready to talk to you yet. Don’t push the issue anymore, it will come up when the time is right and believe me you’re his beloved Hyung, he will definitely tell you.”

Jin slowly nodded. Tae was so innocent and naïve, he couldn’t begin to imagine what could have happened to him that made him want to change so much. Either way, it didn’t matter he was going to protect him.

~~~~*~~~~

Tae sat at the vanity staring at himself. Memories of high school came to mind, he was the most popular boy in the school with tons of friends and crushes. Everything was good until … until …

Tears swelled in his eyes. He removed his contacts and pushed his hair in front of his eyes. He couldn’t be that beautiful person he used to be. He would never feel comfortable in his skin.

There was a knock on his door and Jin walked inside. Tae looked up at him through his bangs and Jin hugged him without asking anything.

“Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”

“Can I?”

Jin nodded. “Change into your pajamas and come into my room after you’re done. Keep ya head up and just know you’re not alone. I’m always here for you.” Jin patted his back before walking out the room.

Tae wiped his tears and smiled softly.

Next Chapter: https://hopeless-taejinstan.tumblr.com/post/172567570555/artistic-beauty-of-love-chapter-8

#taejin is real #taejin #taejinshipper #taejin is real taejin jikook bts vjin vjin taejinshipper kookmin yoonseok #taejin fanfic

[goldenscript]

31. congratulations (m)

↳ prompt: the night we shared in the car → soccer player!jooheon

pairing: lee jooheon | reader genre: college au / fluff, smut word count: 4,527 author’s note: wishing the happiest of birthdays to my dearest @yongceo! <3 even though this was painfully late (at least painful to me), i hope you enjoy this min bean!

4 to 4.

When soccer season rolls in, there’s only one thing on everyone’s mind—championships. It’s silly to say that something like this is nothing more than just a sport, that whatever happens that year won’t define the players (or even the audience), but that’s the thing: it does. It matters. It matters to you (an avid watcher). It matters to the coach (for obvious reasons). It matters to the players (duh!). And most of all, it matters to Jooheon, the team’s captain, who lives, breathes, and exhales this damn game.

Not only is the fate of the team’s position as a ranking school on his shoulders, but the maintenance of his members, because he demands they be in tip-top shape to even step foot on the practice field, because ironically enough, this is more than a game to him. It’s literally everything. What his entire academic career has been built around is kicking around a black and white checkered ball, practices (mornings and evenings), and the very success that he promises to bring and almost always does!

Despite only being a third year, he’s ranked as one of the top center forwards in the entire collegiate league, and he’d be damned to let that moniker go to waste. Tonight, of all nights, is the defining moment in his career, in the university’s name for their sports team. And although the first two years has been a build up of getting this very moment, everyone is still praying and hoping that he can finally be proud enough to walk off the field with an invitation to championships at the start of spring.

Even though you aren’t on the field, you can feel the nerves from the surrounding observers; hell, you can even feel them from everyone else traipsing around.  

The players are trying to tip the balance on the scale, while the audience do their best to send their best wishes to their respective sides of the bleachers. Only a minute ticks down on the fluorescent red clock, each second clicking with enough speed to readjust the beating your heart as your eyes darted the opposite ends of the field in an attempt to follow the scene before you.

Pandemonium breaks out on all ends as the ball volleys between players, one of which you recognize as your boyfriend and the other as the man who had initially been antagonizing him in the beginning, the two are going head to head, trying to gain control over the one key to their success. All this game needs is one more goal and then their school were in with a new challenge to push the team, putting them onto paths for greater and bigger things and that’s all your boyfriend needs to keep him from succumbing to the exhaustion threatening to overtake his lungs (and the fact that—you know this damn well—he’s at a very high refusal to put your good luck kiss and hair tying to waste).

He quickly jukes past the antagonizer and between two of the opposing team’s defenders, flashing the trio an almost apologetic grin because out of everyone, of course he knows just how much they wanted this win—who wouldn’t?

Without a second thought, he quickly passes the ball over to Jungkook and sends a stern nod at the taller boy. Jeon’s only a first year, but his stats are no joke, with a rising record like his, it’s no wonder Jooheon trusts him to make the final shot. The brunet gives a mighty kick, sending a flurry of black and white flying past everyone and into the net before anyone else can even blink, let alone breathe.

As if anticipating any other outcome, everyone else seems to wait until the scoreboard officially changes, gleaming brighter than the stadium lights and the final buzzer echoing into the cool night—

5 to 4.

And boy, did everyone holler.  

The roar of cheers travels down to the players like a monotonous hum, creating a veil of discordance to shroud you even as you create some distance from it. All of the noise intermingles with the heavy breathing from the players and the very faint sounds of droplets hitting the mesh of their jerseys in a not-so-pretty fashion. Well, red-cheeked, heavy breathing, and sweaty Jooheon will always be one of your favorite sights anyway...

But, between the cold sweat running down their backs and victory hanging over their heads, neither of those things could’ve stopped Jooheon from breaking away from the group’s celebratory dogpile. With his back turned away from them, his eyes scan the bleachers before they settle on you already on the field, and it’s all that he can seem to focus on.

Punctuated with a grin so bright and so blinding like the bleacher’s overhead lights, you’re quite awestruck, stopping on the track as you watch his legs carry him to you. His slick arms envelop you in a tight embrace before you can even get a word out, “Jooheon, oof—”

You literally find yourself a devoid of words, only a sensation of going airborne on this chilly post-autumnal evening. At least, the flying lasts for about a full revolution until he sets you down, still grinning and elated more than ever. “Congrats—”

Yet again he cuts you off, his lips pressed firmly against your lips before he pulls back. “Can you believe it? We really did it!”

You laugh, tightening your hold around the front of his jersey and pulling him into your arms. He falls into your touch, tightening his sudden hold on your waist. His warmth is seeping into your cold limbs and it makes you want to hold on tighter. Just to keep this moment commemorated to memory, because it feels monumental even to you. You’re about to say something when a sharp whistle breaks into the still bubble of your little world, coaxing the two of you to look up and remain planted right beside one another.

Minhyuk flashes a wolfish grin at the two of you, “Y/N, please thank Jooheonie for us, ‘kay? Party at our place if you guys are interested, too!”

The rest of the team jogs over to thank their captain, patting his shoulder, and even greeting you with kind smiles and tired eyes. It’s a sweet moment until Jooheon puts the blond in a chokehold for the crude comment.

You can’t help but laugh as you send a wink toward Minhyuk, setting your sights on Jooheon as he leads you toward the locker rooms so he can catch a quick shower before you two go out and celebrate for the night. If only he had a clue...

—

It’s a tradition to have a celebratory make out session in Jooheon’s car.

Often times, you’ll come by to see him after his evening practice because the library is a few blocks away from the stadium, and when you do, he’ll offer you a ride back to the residence halls. Because of this, the sight of his flushed cheeks and slick visage (because sometimes he just can’t be bothered to shower at the school when he can just do it at his apartment), you can’t help but initiate these heated moments.

They’re always involuntary, of course. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’re trying to kiss him until you look at him from the corner of his eyes trying to wipe away a droplet and it’s just… game over for you. All forms of impulse control fly out the window, and you’re meeting his eyes with the look that says it all. One moment you two are flying down the freeway toward your dormitory and another minute, you two are pulling off at the back roads near the rest stops and all you can feel is his hot, heady breath against yours and your wandering hands only a millimeter away from the one sweet spot that you’re aching to touch and he’s aching to be touched.

It’s rare for the two of you to consummate these desires in this kind of venue, where the risk of being seen and caught are at its highest, and whether the perpetrators are the roadside patrols or some passersby wandering around, but the very prospect is enticing. You quiver at the thought of stripping yourself bare just for him in the small cabin of his vehicle, straddling his lap and placing open-mouthed kisses across those glorious collarbones in a flurry of violets and faint fuschias, and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue in whimpers.

He loves it all.

He loves the thrill of whatever may come if either of you get caught,and the very act of getting lost in the heat of the moment — it’s unlike any adrenaline rush he’s ever felt during a game. He’s told you this before in a drunken stupor, lips pulled into a pout as he literally voiced his desires to be put in such a risqué position again. And truthfully, you love the pleasure and the control you’re given, because he’s never once been the one to initiate this fantasy.

Like the previous time, your hand rests on his thigh and gives a squeeze closest to his anticipating member. He stiffens the small circles he’s been tracing at your hip and pulls away from your lips to ask with caution, “What are you doing?”

You’ve long since shimmied out of your coat and the sweater, only a thin camisole covering your upper half, and the delicious heat of his skin, now slick more than ever from the close proximity of your body against his, and the heat blasting from the vents, send flames coursing up and down your body.

The flash of recognition, if only for the briefest of seconds beneath the dim lighting of the street light, doesn’t slip your notice as you run your tongue over your bottom lip. You look at him from the tops of your lashes that tell him exactly what you want. It’s exhilarating turning on this switch of seduction just for him, just to see his eyes go wide in that split second before he mirrors your ministration and his reddened bottom lip goes slick and glossy.

“Don’t you like your gift?” you answer with another squeeze to his thigh. This time it’s much closer to the sweet spot, and you feel excitement bubbling in your core. “Can I, honey?”

“W-wait,” he stammers, trying to sit up from the reclined chair. The pout forming on your lips has his stop short and the hardening length beneath you has more apparent. “I—I thought you said that last spring was going to be the last time?”

“I know,” your tone is only a little bitter because it isn’t like you wanted that to bite you in the ass right now, of all times. Because, okay, the only reason why you didn’t want to make any guarantees of this in the future was simple—the fear of losing the taste for it and the fear of getting caught because fucking Changkyun just has to point out that getting caught having car sex by the police would label you and Jooheon as sexual offenders (weird rules, but you double checked and never had the justice system more). But, also for the simple fact that you wanted to be able to surprise him with this offer as reward for things like going to championships because that was huge. So, you tell answer simply, “but consider this a token of congratulations for going to champs, baby.” 

He sighs, “This should be my reward if I win champs...”

From the doubt in his tone, you know more than anyone that Jooheon is the type of person that won’t give himself enough credit even if he deserves it. Even though championships were ages away, he was still thinking about that instead of the success in your current time. He’s prone to this thinking, disregarding his successes because he believes that if he’s stuck in just that one moment then he won’t escape and he won’t do any better than he did then, and perhaps this is yet another reason for you to show him that he deserves to celebrate moments like these. Not just for your sake or his teammates’ (Minhyuk has voiced plenty of his concerns before), but for his own and that makes you even more resolved on showing him just how precious and how well-deserved the praise he receives isn’t bullshit or obligatory nonesuch everyone’s prone to spewing when in the right moment.

You tug on his collar so he’ll look at you, the light flush on his cheeks seem to be fading but the forlorn look in his eyes makes you a little sad. Your tone is soft and careful, a twinge of whining etched between the words, “But that’s too long from now…”

“Baby…” He matches your tone, but the corners of his lips are upturned. It’s a blatant attempt to throw you off the baseless put-downs echoing through his head.

Your eyes narrow ever-so-slightly, because he should know better than anyone that there is no throwing you off this trail when you’re set on making him feel better. You trace the marks you created on his skin as you try once again, “What do you say, honey? Be adventurous for once.”

He laughs — the sound far from his usual jovial sound. In response, your features don’t relent in the slightest because as much as he’s trying to brush you off right now, there’s no way in hell you’re letting yourself getting thrown off. Not when it’s him; in your eyes, he truly deserves the world, and you refuse to let him think otherwise.

Another decision gets made that has his eyes go wide as the black cotton gets thrown off into the growing pile of clothes where your seat was. You’re about to reach for the hook of your bra until you hear him groan, “God, you’re so fucking hot right now.”

As his head hits the headrest completely and his eyes shut, you swear you hear him say under his breath, “I want you,” and knowing him, there’s no way you could’ve misheard him. In a way this gives you one more shot at getting him to concede officially because you know for a damn fact that he wants this even if he doesn’t think he deserves it.

You roll your hips against his and press your lips to his, “I know.”

Of course, you know.

If there’s one thing Jooheon has done for you (among the plenty of other things that has come with being in a relationship with him), it’s that he’s made you feel loved and appreciated in ways you never thought you could feel.

There’s a softness with him that has been so rare to find in previous significant others, it’s hard to imagine you ever let yourself date anyone else, because he makes you feel beautiful and loved. He’s patient even when you’re taking ages to find the right blouse and encouraging when everything else has sapped your strength. Sometimes just looking at him gives you motivation to keep going, to keep growing as a person, and that’s what being with someone should be like — even if you’re made for yourself, others can help you grow into yourself. They can love you and help you along the way of your journey, and with him, it’s always been a steady growth, with the natural ups and downs, and you know that in all that time he’s only ever tried to make you feel like how he sees you.

Even though you haven’t done the same as often as you wish you did, you absolutely refuse to let this opportunity to do exactly what he’s done for you to slip past your fingers, because goddammit, you love Lee Jooheon and knowing that he loves you too will always have you wanting the best for him and his golden heart.

He relinquishes a moan, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He’s fallen into your clutches from the rutting of your hips are met with some reciprocation and the caress of his fingertips assisting you in the removal of your brassiere. A rush of tranquil focus settles between the two of you as you calculate your next move and do exactly what feels good for the both of you.

As soon as that article of clothing joins the rest of the pile, his hand rests back on your hips and guides you against him for a best taste of the unrelenting friction between your leggings and his jeans. You can feel his length straining now that it’s begging to be free, but you keep him in place to grab the bottom of his shirt and lift it up and over him to join the ever-growing tower beside you two. It’s an intimate moment as you slide your hands up and down his torso and let your bare skin touch his before capturing his lips once more.

The pillowy softness is an addictive feeling as you kiss him over and over again, resting your hands on the sides of his face because you want him to know you’re here and you’re not going anywhere. You hope that each time he tastes you, he’ll taste the love and affection you always wish to show him even if you can’t with the stresses of school weighing on your shoulders. You hope that whatever fears plaguing his mind are silenced, if only for this moment, just to give the two of you this moment together.

What you relish in the most isn’t just the thrill of possibly getting caught, it’s the stillness of the road where no one pays a damn mind to either of you two and lets you both be as you are. Everyone has their own destination, sometimes they’re not even there to congregate on the road, and the camouflage of the back roads have always tickled your fancy for the privacy. The very intimacy of having him all to yourself while everyone else is off doing their own thing, whether it’s his roommates throwing a party or your fellow RAs covering your shift because neither of you really ever have the time to breathe with the loom of responsibility and the obligation of education resting on your shoulders.

You know damn well that when you make the most of your time with Jooheon, you want to feel good and you want him to feel good, so the moment he releases another whimper, a lot more pained than before, you ease off him and search his visage for an answer.

“What? What’s wrong, baby?” your voice is no louder than a hushed murmur, awaiting a response now that he seems a little less in pain but still discomfort riddled over his fair-skinned features.

His response is soft in tone, but far from innocent, relinquishing flames all across your core: “I really, really want you, Y/N….”

There’s just something about these small admissions that get you albeit they come every-so-often from him, hearing it is all the more motivation for your confidence to spike and a sense of control to wash over you.

Your fingertips draw soothing circles across his forearm, “Well, all you had to do was ask.”

“You little shit,” he scoffs with a smile on his lips.

You wink at him, “Only for you.”

Sitting on the pile of clothing, you use that opportunity to shimmy out of your leggings and underwear as he kicks off his jeans and shoves his boxers down to his ankles. He grabs a spare T-shirt from his open duffle bag in backseat and places it beneath him and his hand reaches past you for the box of condoms he keeps in the glove compartment. He’s about to beckon you over now that he’s fully equipped to the onslaught of pleasure that’s to come with you, but before he can slip on the condom, you take matters into your hands.

Slipping the rubber onto him, you make sure to involve an additional pressure just to hear a sharp exhale part his lips. Sometimes akin to your name floats across the air, enough to act on your own desires by coming back to him. He always manages to soften your resolve even as you attempt to tease him and draw out these moments you share together. It’s been far too long since you’ve had this much free time with him, and having it makes it a little too hard not to just jump him right on the spot.

You’re careful not to bump your head, musing now that you’ve settled yourself back onto his lap, “Better?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans, bucking his hips against your exposed core. Your excitement is bubbling over though it’s not as obvious as your beloved boyfriend’s. The feeling of his hardened member elicits a shudder, however.

A part of you already wanting to relinquish your own moan just out of the sheer possibilities that’ll come within the hour, but instead you shakily ask as you rise from your spot and position him to your entrance, “Ready?”

“Y-yes,” he says, nodding slower now that you’re beginning to ease him into you. He throws his head back, a rather loud thump! considering just how close your proximity is, though he gives you no time to react as he shuts his eyes and places on hand on your hip and the other on the side of your face.

With his fingertips poised against your skin, there’s nothing else you want in this world—of course, aside from your degree and a well-paying job. Being with Jooheon is nothing less than a fairytale mixed with the reality that not everything is as easy as getting the prince, but the butterflies and the wondrous adoration you feel for him hasn’t lessened even a little bit over the years. From the old days in high school when you two had to sneak around your dad’s back to the days when he worked at that café pining from afar; who knew this is what would come from your friends’ meddling? (They say they didn’t but you know damn well that Changkyun and his rival wanted nothing more than the formation of this relationship and its flourishing.)

To you, it’s amazing how much time and how much chance has come to play in both your lives—that these precious moments you two could share would be so gentle despite how raucous the venues would be. Although you weren’t always this kind of person to do these sorts of things, you’ve found that sharing them with him makes them better. It’s not cheap or quick with this man; in fact, it’s beautiful and memorable.

The sounds he makes are nothing short of your name and the thing he would do—the oh-so-glorious things—that only seem to make your hips respond with fluid sharpness until you’re absolutely certain that the spot getting hit is in fact the spot. Because although you two have had time and experience to learn one another’s bodies, there is still lots of learning to do—the sort you don’t mind in the slightest knowing that your growth is in sync with him.

Your evolution together has led to these moments—special ones—that you’ll carry for as long as you live. This car as beat-down and well-worn as it is carries more memories than any journal can, it’ll commemorate the night he won qualifiers, and hell, it’ll probably do the same for when he actually does win championships. Or maybe it’ll be the place you comfort him. Either way, it’s a place that as unconventional as it is stands to be your favorite one where you share laughs, memories, and conversations that can’t seem to parallel any other.

“Oh fuck,” you murmur against his lips, rolling your hips once more in the same manner as the previous, you find yourself hit the perfect spot.

He perks up, kissing your cheek and making his way down your neck. “There, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, continuing the same ministrations. “N-no marks, honey!”

He pouts, nodding against your neck and tickling your visage with his wonderfully soft dark locks. “Love you~”

You smile, placing your hands on both sides of his face just so he can face you. “And I love you, too.”

You smile, placing your hands on both sides of his face just so he can face you. “And I love you, too.”

He’s looking at you, even in the half-assed lighting you can see that he’s looking at you like you’re the best damn thing in the world again. It doesn’t happen as often as many think, but when you catch it on off-chances like this one, you’re left awestruck. The very need to show him just how much he means to you overtaking your body, though it seems he wants to do the same exact thing.

He gives you yet another kiss, this time with a fervent hunger as he puts his all into this one gesture that has you reeling. Your heart goes haywire in your chest, pressing closely against his as you match his pace down below even with your thighs filling with lactic acid and crying for mercy, you can’t help but continue on to finish off that high that’s overtaken you both.

With his name on the tip of your tongue already entering the heady air of the car, you feel the euphoria of warmth and bliss so hot, you’re practically writhing at his touch. It’s like this every single time. Each shared moment seemingly newer than the last like everything has changed each time you both come together. The sight is dim and seedy, but you can make out his half-lidded eyes and his parted lips. It’s truly a sight to behold.

As soon as your own name departs his lips not too long afterwards, leaving you even hotter as you bring his lips back to yours once more for that final kiss.  

You grin up at him, stroking back the stray locks of dark hair. “Seriously. Congratulations, honey.”

“Thank you, baby,” he replies, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “Thank you so much.”

—

Twenty minutes later, the two of you are clean and headed toward your dormitory. His hand is held in yours, giving a squeeze every-so-often just to hear your soft giggle and receive a squeeze right back. The warmth in your heart wholesome and encompassing, even at the stoplight where a soft silence lapses beyond the music playing at the lowest volume in the background.

“I love you,” you decide to say, looking over at him with what you’re sure is the same adoration he always musters around you. You don’t do this because you know he loves it, rather you do it because you want to—you feel it in your heart.

He presses his lips to your forehead, “I love you too.”

And he does. You know that, and hearing it makes you feel like you’ve won some sort of qualifier for championships.

If only you knew just how much he thought this was better than winning any kind of game.

#mxnetwork #mxwriters #jooheon scenarios #jooheon smut #jooheon fluff #jooheon au #jooheon drabble #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fanfic #monsta x smut #monsta x fluff #emswriting

[noexit-ff]

4.

“Why have you gone quiet with me?” Robyn asked, I paused holding the phone away from my ear. I thought I could hear someone at the door and there is “my bad, I was just hearing out for the door. I am not expecting anyone so I was just hearing out, it’s not you” making my way out of my bedroom “where are you? Is your hearing that bad?” Robyn is funny, so she thinks “I was just in my room, you called me so early. I do sleep you know” making my way down the steps “Chris, it’s the afternoon. That is not early. I didn’t know you was asleep, I just thought I would call you to invite you to my home” my crib is a damn mess “well on Chris time that is early, do I bring condoms to this event?” I know Robyn is about to get offended “what? Why? You said you don’t use condoms with me?” I busted out laughing “but that was before you started fucking with a foreign dick” unlocking my door “wow Chris! I could say the same about you, you probably have a STD” seeing my niggas “what do y’all want?” I asked in confusion “you said to come back to the crib, anyways. Lo wants to use your crib for a video” moving out of the way watching them walk in “you see, I don’t have one. I was joking with you. I am just shocked…” I trailed off “hey Chris” Jessica said touching my arm, who invited Jessica “wait, who invited these? What is this?” moving the phone away from my ear “I told you, we are using your crib for my music video” was I high when I agreed to this.

This is awkward, looking at my phone “shit” I mouthed to myself shaking my head “my bad” placing my phone to my ear “you seem very busy today, we could reschedule” she called and invited me to her crib and she think I ain’t finna come, I am “nah, I am coming. I am never not busy for you. I have stupid friends. Jessica is here” I thought I would mention it “do you fuck with her? What is the deal with her?” walking back into my crib “I ain’t dating her, I just had a chick that I go too. She was my go too, I ain’t fucking on you now, I promise you” why is Jessica walking towards me, let me go upstairs “it’s ok, I mean no it’s not ok. I am trying so hard to be cool about this but you really got a house full of bitches?” looking at my living area “erm, seventy forty” I cringed “what is that supposed to mean?” she spat “forty percent dick and seventy percent pussy” shaking my head at Jessica “you changed your number on me? What did I do” she really about to do this now “put the phone down Chris then we are done forever” Robyn said in my ear, how did I get myself in this position “I am not having a repeat on what we went through last time, I can’t do it again” I didn’t expect Lo to bring Jessica when I said don’t, I am done with her but she just didn’t know that.

Why is my life like this “well I wasn’t even supposed to be seeing you again, you in my crib. I didn’t invite you, look. I just got bored” I shrugged “bored? You said you actually liked me, we had a connection and I always gave you space and now you are saying this. You treated me like your girlfriend, I jumped for you” I didn’t even claim this bitch, sighing out “I don’t want to be mean but I am done, you were never my girlfriend to be begin with. I needed someone that was there and you were there, please. Just go, I don’t want to be rude” I am trying to save myself to not sound like a dick, making my way up the stairs “I actually fell for you Chris!” she shouted, why is she creating a scene “don’t they all” I said shaking my head “I am pregnant!” I froze pulling a face “Chris…” Robyn said, turning around on the step “that’s bullshit and stop putting lies on my motherfucking name Jessica, don’t try and trap me. If you are then I might as well kick you down these steps because it’s lies, now tell the fucking truth!” I can tell with the look on her face she is lying “she’s not pregnant babe, trust me. This is lies” I said to Robyn down the phone “fuck you Chris! I wouldn’t want you to be the father of my child anyways, fuck you and the bitch on the phone” I knew it, I knew she wasn’t “Lo, get her out of here” I always get these unstable bitches, she seemed stable.

I have a headache now, what drama that was “I am sorry about that, I didn’t know she would have come at me like that. I changed my number and I never went in raw with her, only you and you know that” I feel bad “it’s fine, I got scared when she said pregnant. I felt a stab at my heart though” she sighed out “anyways, are you actually coming?” she is not angry “yeah I am coming, no lie. You think I would miss you cooking, it’s been a while since we saw each other. I just don’t want you to hate me, I am not playing you in any way like before. Shit has to be still kind of normal with us, nobody is going to know about us. We just need to trust us both, same to you because I know you still got niggas that want you. Half of those niggas are my homies but we need to keep low and trust each other” this is so big of me to be doing and saying this “wow, didn’t think I would hear you be like this. To say such words, I can’t wait to see you. So we can speak more, and no. Don’t bring no condoms, I always like to feel your dick slide into me” she hung up the phone, did she just say that to me. Looking at my phone, and she put the phone down on me.

I miss driving my Lamborghini but I don’t want to attract too much attention driving those cars, people know my cars because of the design and the colour. If they see it driving here or parked anywhere near her crib then people will talk. I am just trying to be so careful about things like that, I don’t want the rumours or the gossip, we are still trying to iron out the issues we have ourselves. I am impressed with Robyn’ crib though, it’s big for a little lady living on her own, it is rented out though because she doesn’t live here. She left the gate open for me, turning off to go down the driveway. It is really secluded here though, seeing Mel walking out from the door. Parking in front of the garage, turning my engine off. Picking the roses up from the front seat and the champagne, opening my car door to get out.

Locking my car door “aww, are those for me?” Mel smiled, looking down at the roses “you wish, where are you going?” walking over to her “well I have been evicted from the home until further notice so I am waiting for my ride and I am gone” letting out an oh, seeing Robyn come outside “you’re kicking your husband out?” I pointed at Mel, she kissed her teeth at me “whatever, I will be back thank you. Leave me some left overs and no sex in the living area, kitchen area. Actually, anywhere that people eat, you may go into her bedroom but don’t bother doing it downstairs. I swear to god Chris I will kill you” I can’t stop laughing “I never did anything, wow. You mad bitter about that, it was just a mistake” walking towards Robyn “don’t bother! Be good, have fun assholes” shaking my head “why is she angry for? When did we have sex in the kitchen?” Robyn shook her head giggling “she walked in on us, remember. She never ate from us after that” I honestly forgot “oh well, forget Wendy Snipes. I got you this” holding the Roses out “stop it and thank you. I am not really dressed, I am a mess. I smell like food but come on in” she got her legs out and a big hoodie on, I missed those legs.

First time being in this place, it’s nice inside here “it’s rented?” I asked walking behind her “yeah it is, I won’t be here for long” pulling a face behind her, where is she going to go “but I am here?” walking down the steps “I know, we will get to that Chris” I hope she don’t want to live anywhere else, I love LA and distance don’t work with us “these will fit perfectly in this vase, I love the roses” the living and kitchen area is downstairs, it’s so dope actually “they will actually, I got you champagne. That don’t mean you drink it all” Robyn leaned down to put the Roses in the vase next to the open fire, tilting my head to the side. She has panties on “you might snap your neck if you look any harder” dammit she clocked me “well I couldn’t help it” I am so stupid at times, laughing to myself because I got caught.

I licked the plate clean “I told you that I missed your food, you do cook good” Robyn took my plate from me “well I was going to make you jerk chicken but then I thought I was in the mood for some oxtail” sitting back in the chair “it was very nice Robyn thank you, I am full” she is spoiling me, I feel so blessed “I have a surprise for you, I learnt this and I was like I need to make sure Chris tastes this so” watching her sway over to the fridge “I am excited now, what is it? Its food related” moving my head around looking up trying to see what she has done “I made strawberry cheesecake for us!” I gasped “no way! You know I love me some cheesecake Robyn, you for real made it?” she bought it over to the table “nah, that has come from The cheesecake factory, you a lie” she placed the whole thing in front of me “oh Robyn, this is the way to my heart” I can eat it all “I made it myself actually! Let me get you a plate” why do I need a plate when I am going to eat this all, I don’t believe she made this “you have been making my favourite food while I been absent?” I pointed “whatever, it kind of got me sad because I was like, Chris loves cheesecake. Especially strawberry cheesecake” licking my top lip, Robyn walking around with her legs out is never a good thing but I am trying to be good.

“I am so glad you sorted your hair out, it looks so much more better. Have you been doing what I told you?” she placed my piece of cheesecake on the plate, dragging my eyes up “uhm yeah, you sent me the products and I goes to my nigga I been told to use these. He goes you in a relationship? You got a girl or some shit? These are some feminine shit, but yeah, I used it” she touched my hair smiling “Good, it looks nice” holding onto Robyn’ hand before she walked off “why are you sitting so far, sit here” moving my hand, she let out an oh. Sitting up on the chair, Robyn pulled out the seat at the side of me “you love getting shy when you’re close to me? Stop it, it’s me. I’m stupid, I be getting nervous with you” I don’t know why she does it “I can’t help it” she moved back the piece of hair that fell forward behind her ear “my feelings for you is so heavy, I still get the feeling I feel when I see you. The hardest part was leaving everything, it was just so toxic. It was and I had too, trust me I suffered. I missed you so much and I hated you because I thought why, am I not that worth it. It killed me when I thought you moved on, you were so full of life and I was beating myself up inside. I honestly thought you didn’t love me Chris, you wanted a second life. We would sometimes cross paths and I would feel it, I would feel my heart just jump but you had your females there.”

Placing my hand over Robyn’ “I was stupid, I was so high on life that I wanted that life but I wanted you. I wanted you and that life but I was dragging you down with me, I was lost and nobody could help but me. I regret it because we lost years, you walked away and I was like now what?” Robyn put her head down “I would look into your eyes and I would think, he is not the man I fell for. I was sharing you and the man I fell for wouldn’t do that to me, you was so lost that I felt I wasn’t helping you. I had to leave Chris, I am sorry” she apologised to me when she doesn’t need too “don’t, I felt like one day we would find each other again. But at that moment, shit. I felt like someone shot me, I thought I lost you for good and it was my own stupid mistake. I have never felt pain like that in my life” squeezing Robyn’ hand a little “smile, we back together. Now you can feed me cheesecake” Robyn rolled her eyes at me smiling “big baby, you can do it your damn self” moving my hand back.

Robyn can’t stop laughing, she is blushing too “stop playing now, tell me how my cheesecake is?” smacking my lips together “hmmmm I think I need to try more” she scoffed at me, I love seeing the smile on her face. She is truly happy “you better tell me after this what’s it like, I mean it Chris” staring at Robyn as I ate from the fork, Robyn closed her eyes. Moving my head back smirking, she opened her eyes “was that too sexy for you?” she shrugged, placing the fork down on my plate “so, tell me” swallowing the piece, leaning myself towards Robyn and pressed a kiss to her cheek “it’s very nice, I love it” moving back grabbing the fork “have some, or are you watching the figure?” she shook her head “I have put on weight so I am trying to be good” sitting back on the chair “so have I” lifting my top up a little “oh my god, your love handles are back! aww my chubby baby is back” placing my top down “yeah, yeah. I need to not eat this but I am” she actually done well “take it home with you, I will take some for Mel but take it” she doesn’t need to tell me twice.

I have no idea where Robyn has gone, I am sat on this corner couch waiting for her. I am about ready to sleep, I have eaten good and this open fire got me sleepy “I was looking for my blanket, I am back” she has still got her legs out, she has changed though. Wearing shorts and a tee “what are we doing now?” I think we are going to watch a movie “watch a movie” I knew it “well you got me well fed and I am sleepy, but come. We can hug, hug like friends do” I wish I didn’t wear jeans now, this is not comfortable. Getting my phone out from my pocket, I have so many notifications but I don’t care. Not when I am with Robyn “put my phone on the table” holding it out to her, she took my phone. Taking my socks off “look at you, getting comfortable” she threw the blanket over me “this is heavy, I like this corner couch though” pulling the blanket out, Robyn laid next to me “god, this is so weird. It’s been so long” Robyn shuffled closer to me “since we have been so close, I have missed it” placing my arm around Robyn.

Chris fell asleep, as soon as the movie started and I looked to him he was asleep. I am side eyeing him but he must have eaten well, now I don’t know if he is asleep anymore because his head as made his way to my breast. Half of his body is all on me, I am not complaining because I have missed him but I wanted to speak to him. I have watched this movie all on my own, looking down at Chris and hearing his light snores. I have missed this man so much, I love him with all my heart and he is here again in my arms. I sometimes don’t want to get to happy but he is saying the right things, he is doing things I want him to do. Maybe that was a wake-up call for him, I was shocked he gave me his phone and just didn’t care to what happened with it, he hasn’t once checked it. Lowering my head down, closing my eyes as I pressed a kiss on top of his head or shall I say the hair he has grown out, smells like coconut now because of me.

Mel must be back, it is late so I expected her back. Finishing covering the plate with foil “it’s quiet, did you put his ass to sleep?” Mel pointed, I rolled my eyes “he ate and then he fell asleep, that was it” Mel scoffed “no dick then? I didn’t think Chris Brown was stingy with dick, who are these for?” she pointed at the plates “for Chris, he can take it for later or whatever” Mel cooed out “you are making your man plates to go, you fed him well. You fed him so well that he fell asleep, you go girl. I thought you put his ass to sleep” shaking my head “he’s not tried it yet, he’s been making odd jokes but I don’t know. Maybe that is my surprise for my birthday, dick” Mel pointed laughing “that is a good surprise for you, we know you ain’t been getting that for four years” she opened the fridge “he didn’t touch the sides” laughing aloud “you’re an idiot” I am not sure if to wake him up because it’s late and his phone light keeps coming on, someone is ringing.

I am so glad that these two like my cheesecake, I made that and I wasn’t sure “mommy I said I will, I said I will come back to Barbados. I just be busy” my mom is always doing the most “you haven’t called me for weeks! You blamed me for something I didn’t know about” I still think she knew “hmmm yeah” I said, she must have known “how is Adam?” how can I forget, they think I am still with him “erm, he is ok. Busy” keeping it short and sweet “so how long are you staying in LA for? Aren’t you going back to London?” she is reminding me of everything I am trying not to remember “morning sleepy” Mel said to Chris, a smile crept onto my face. I just love seeing him so much, god. I am falling so much, it just feels so new to me again. He is so cute just waking up “morning? Shit, I don’t even know the time, my phone is blowing up” I need to get my mom off the phone “I don’t know, I will let you know. I have to go now, love you, bye” disconnecting the call “don’t blame them, you have been here for so long. Anyways, I am just going to another room” Mel winked at me sliding off the bar stool, she knows to give privacy.

He is mean mugging his phone now, watching him wipe his left eye “are you going now?” I asked, I don’t want him to go. I feel so clingy to him, I want to keep feeding him and then he will just keep sleeping “yeah, everyone thinks I have ran away or some shit” his voice is so husky when he has just woken up, he locked his phone looking at me “you slept well on my breast anyways” Chris snorted laughing “my bad, can you still feel your breast?” he sat down on the bar stool “I am sorry, I just felt so sleepy. Then you were next to me, I felt so warm against you. I had a good ass sleep” he pointed at the plates “what is that for?” placing my phone on the counter top “for you to take with you home, you know if you need feeding I don’t mind it” I just want to spoil him, make him fat too “thank you babe, are you ok though? About everything, do you feel confident about us? I know I did some fucked up shit, I regret it so much but trust me. I am so sorry about this, about the whole second life I wanted” smiling at him “it’s ok Chris, I think it’s something we are working on, I do trust you. I appreciate how much you do care, this is the man I fell in love with, I am so happy you got out of that life you were so sucked in too” he was awful.

Watching Chris put his sneakers on “what are you doing tonight?” I am being so nosey “meeting T-Pain in the studio, I am late and niggas are saying I ditched him. So I will pretty much be in there for tonight, I will call you though. See if you are awake, ok?” he looked up at me “that would be nice, if I don’t pick up then you know. So when do we next see each other?” I blurted out, I am already missing him. It wasn’t long enough today “aww you miss me already, well I got that surprise for you” he just reminded me “what is it? I thought it was going to be already” Chris got up from the couch “well babe it’s hard, I am planning it and when you see what I am doing you will know why. Because we can’t just turn up there it’s hard, it’s a big surprise. Remember though, it will be just me and you and then Mel and Mijo. Make it up for your birthday but I got you, don’t worry. Just don’t be leaving me in LA just yet” getting up from the couch also “I know, but this is my last month here” Chris doesn’t look pleased “then where are you going? Back to London?” shaking my head “New York and then France, you know that” he shook his head “I will never get to see you in New York but let’s think about it then ok?” nodding my head, why does he need to go.

I just want to jump onto his back and tell him to stay but no, this is too early for all of that but we have lost so many years on just messing up “I don’t why people think we can’t be in the same room without having sex, we can do it. Mel thought I put you to sleep” Chris chuckled turning around “it’s hard, I am trying to be good. When we have sex it will be on our wedding night” frowning at him “seriously?” I said in confusion, is he crazy “that is your surprise, we are getting married” tilting my head in confusion “seriously? Don’t joke around with me? Is that why you are taking so long?” he nodded his biting his bottom lip “Mel and Mijo are the witnesses, not long to wait. You ok with that?” this is so quick “wow, I mean. Are you sure? I would marry you, of course I would” he wants to marry me, this is a surprise, oh my god “I am playing babe, I can’t do that to you. You deserve the world not some side wedding” hitting his arm “don’t play with me!” he is so annoying “I would marry you though” I said biting on my nail.

“Would you? Don’t put ideas in my head baby, I don’t need that. We will have sex though, let them judge us. I would do it now but I want it to be special. I don’t know, I just feel like. We are on that get to know each other stage again, if I was to just have sex with you straight away it would be wack. I just want to make love to you” he is making me giggle “you’re so annoying, honestly” hiding my face with my hand. Feeling Chris wrap his arms around me “what I tell you about being shy?” moving my hand away from my face and seeing Chris all in my face “I need to make sure my pussy is clean that day, don’t catch me on my off day” Chris laughed “you know I still ate you out when you was hairy” I scoffed squinting my eyes at him, I try to be mad at him but I can’t he makes me smile all the time “I love you Robyn” he said, he touched his nose with mine lightly “I love you too Chris” Chris pecked my lips, closing my eyes as we got into the kiss, I parted my lips and he slowly ran his tongue over my lips. I leaned in close, he placed his hand on my face. His tongue slowly ran into mouth as the kiss deepened.

Chris and I moved back from the kiss, that took my breath away “you got me out of breath, I missed your lips” I said licking my lips “same” Chris smiled “I am so sad you’re going though” I admitted, I really don’t want him to go “I miss you already, we will do another meet. I am hoping to get your surprise done, you know this will be hard for us baby. We can barely meet or be in public. I will come and see you, call me if you want to talk. It’s like the old times, we addicted to each other already” he is so right, we already are “I will but I do miss you already, and oh my god. The plates” turning around, he is not going to forget those. Carrying the plates to him “come, carry them outside for me” Chris laughed opening the door, he got me carrying them for him and I have no shoes on.

Placing the plates on his front seat “be careful, don’t want it leaking and ruining your car seat. Then you will blame me” Chris closed the car door “it will be fine, so tell me. Are you really thinking of leaving this place? I am just thinking on what we going to do?” he’s not going to drop this “well I have to, you did say keep things normal and I have to go. If I move here then people will talk” Chris scratched the back of his head “and people will talk if I go to New York, I mean in France we can get away with that. It’s an event, we will need to figure this out but I will you call you tonight and remember if you need me call me. We will meet up soon” he pressed a kiss to my pouted lips “why do you even have to go? Please stay” Chris turned around “I love you Robyn, I miss you already” waving at him “miss you too” he does need to go, I better get used to this until the world knows he is mine, I need to put my big girl panties on and stop making leaving hard.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfiction

[lostinfic]

Mercier x Betty  British Raj AU

The word ‘dance’ comes to mind, their own choreography of gazes exchanged across the room, brushes of hands and half-spoken confessions. They orbit around each other, destined never to collide it seems; Mercier is upper class, Betty is a governess. And he’s spying on the family whose children she swore to protect. But in this foreign land of spices and silk, of golden gods and lush forests, where cultural norms clash and wane, even destinies must yield to desire.

Rating: Mature  Word count: 3.9k Beta: @fadewithfury​ <3 Thank you anon who prompted a Victorian AU that became this, and to my French anon for inspiration; Don’t let the pretentious summary fool you, this is plotless and shameless romantization of India, and an excuse to write UST and sneaking around. Warnings: drinking, smoking, kids because Betty is a governess. You don’t need to have seen either show. 

Tumblr | Ao3

1 | Falling

Calcutta, August 1902

As soon as Mercier exited the Raj Bhavan and stepped out from under the shade of the portico, the sun assaulted him. He tugged at his stiff high collar. It wouldn’t last, leaded clouds loomed on the horizon.

Monsoon season was almost over, the violent showers now few and far inbetween, giving way to the more tolerable days of Sharad Ritu, the fourth season of the Hindu calendar with the autumnal equinox as its midpoint.

Mercier walked towards the river Hoogly, intent on enjoying the city before having to shut himself indoors because of the heat.

Early morning was the busiest moment of the day. Even before sunrise, natives and foreigners alike took advantage of the cooler temperature to conduct their business. The clocks had barely struck nine when Mercier left the government house, having approved a transit between Calcutta and the French territory of Pondichéry.

He navigated between sweetmeat sellers, water carriers and liveried chaprassis, and beasts too, as numerous as humans, oxen pulling carts, gharry horses wearing blue beads and sacred bulls eating marigolds. Dust rose under their hoofs. And the smell of them reminded him of the stables on his estate, in a much quieter part of the world. How incongruous to find something so familiar halfway around the globe, and that such a foul smell should make him smile.

He reached the shore and stared absentmindedly into the flow, brown waters, a shade like café au lait, stirring memories of lazy Sunday mornings with his wife.

Mercier shook his head free of these melancholy thoughts, and instead settled his attention on the large steps descending into the river. No, not the colour of café au lait but of chai masala. Locals and pilgrims bathed there, washing clothes and cattle. The thrum of women’s gossip and fakir’s prayers reached his ears. A couple knotted their robes together and dipped side by side as a little boy priest showered them with petals.

In every city he’d lived in there had been such a river. The social and commercial center of the city, bustling with activity and yet nothing appeased him like walking along the banks. The Seine, the Thames, the Danube, the Vistula, the Rhine… And once again his mind wandered with the river, joining the Ganges and flowing to the Bay of Bengal and into the Indian Ocean; the same route he’d arrived in this country.

His steps took him towards the port where the wind impregnated the great white sails of the P&O ships.

He did not miss France per se, but his freedom. Always an independent spirit despite his military career, he went from one European capital to the next, to spy or fight, taking unpaid leave when things didn’t go his way. India had promised such liberty. But after four years, the close-knit community felt claustrophobic. The occasional mission kept him on his toes, but he’d imagined a work far less administrative.

He’d missed another Exposition Universelle and the summer olympics in Paris. He’d thought about leaving India before. But this country always had a new marvel in store to convince him to stay a while longer. Whenever melancholy had swept over him before, he’d discover a new sport, new food, new landscape to remind him there was much left to discover and enjoy. What would it be this time?

Anyway, he had an important assignment to complete before he could take his leave.

Mercier stared into the waters again. There were no steps here, but a steep wall, four feet above sea level, that dived into the river. Waves broke against the stone and a refreshing salty mist sprayed his face.

“Oliver Douglas Wigram, come back here!”

Mercier perked up at the name; Lord Wigram was part of his assignment, someone to report on, but he had yet to secure an invitation to his home.

“Oliver! It’s dangerous!”

A woman, Lady Wigram he assumed, ran and shouted, holding up her yellow skirts. A little boy, no more than four years old, ran past Mercier, giggling as he glanced over his shoulder at his pursuer.

Out of nowhere, a donkey headbutted the boy, sending him into the port’s deep waters. Mercier froze, agape. Oliver resurfaced, gesticulating wildly to keep himself afloat. Mercier started removing his jacket. He barely had one arm out that the woman dived straight into the river, her hat flying off behind her.

The strong current dragged Oliver away. Lady Wigram swam steadily to him. Mercier ran along the edge, trying to catch up, preparing to jump. Water swallowed the boy, and she dived under. His heart stopped as they disappeared, but she emerged with the child in her arms.

She was a good swimmer but her layers of clothes and corset would weigh her down. They didn’t need a third person in there but something to pull them out. He grabbed a thick rope, unwinding it from around a post, and threw it at them. It fell too far.

With one arm around the crying boy, the woman had trouble keeping her head out of the water. Mercier threw the rope a second time. It landed right beside them, and she grabbed it immediately. With the help of other men who’d witnessed the incident, Mercier pulled them out of the river.

An old sepoy caught Oliver, and Mercier hoisted Lady Wigram by her underarms. He laid her on the ground and knelt beside her. Brown curls stuck to her face, and he wiped them off as she coughed water. Her breath was short and laboured, her eyes wide and panicked. She clawed at her dress, and he realized what she needed. Running his fingers over her torso, he located, under the fabric, the front hooks of her corset. With some fiddling, he managed to free her. As soon as she could breathe properly, she looked around, searching for the boy.

“He’s here, my lady, he’s alive.”

She crawled to the boy. Oliver safe in her arms, she sagged with relief against Mercier’s chest. He couldn’t help but close his arms around them.

“Shhh. You’re fine, you’re safe,” he whispered to soothe the lady’s tears.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, pulling away and wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“There is nothing to be sorry about. Can you stand up?” he asked after a moment.

She nodded, and he helped her up to her feet. The old sepoy offered to get them a carriage. They sat on a bench near the road to wait for it.

“Oh, my Lord! Thank you for saving us. Thank you,” she said. “Oh, where’s me head at, I didn’t even ask your name.”

“Colonel Jean-François Mercier. It’s a pleasure to meet you Lady Wigram.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Oh. I’m not lady Wigram.”

“I heard you say the boy’s name, I assumed…”

“I’m just the governess.”

“A pleasure all the same. And your name?”

“Betty Salinger, sir.”

“A governess? You do not look like one.” He looked pointedly at her colourful promenade dress.

She sniffled as she fingered a muddied lace trim. “It’s me— my day off,” she explained

She looked at her ward, but didn’t express discontentment at his presence on her day off. She attempted to clean his face with her soaked handkerchief, and Mercier offered his own. It didn’t do any good, the child still looked a right mess, soaked to the bones with a runny nose and one shoe lost.

“Her ladyship will kill me dead.”

At that, Oliver’s lip wobbled and his eyes welled up again.

“Oh, no, no, sweetheart, don’t worry, I didn’t mean like that.”

“Because you saved her son?”

“I let him run off.”

“Children will do that. The donkey pushed him.”

Betty nodded, but worry lines still bracketed her mouth. The poor woman was dishevelled, her chignon slid halfway down her hair, and her corset still gaped under her dress.

“Perhaps if your clothes were clean and dry, the accident might not appear so severe.” He pulled a dead leaf out of her hair.

“Is it that bad?”

“We could stop by my house so you might fix your appearance and the boy’s, and dry your clothes.”

Her wide, uncertain eyes settled on him, mouth slightly agape. “Is that proper, sir?”

“Oh, of course, my apologies… My sister will be there.”

She relaxed. “Yeah, if you would be so kind, it might make matters better.”

*

The carriage stopped in front of a large white stucco house with a classical portico. Above the entrance, hung a French flag, the heat had caused the blue and red dyes to bleed on the white middle.

Taking in the size of the building, Betty’s eyes widened and shifted between Mercier and the house.

“It is not all for me. It doubles as the French consulate,” Mercier said. “The west side is offices and guest rooms.”

“There are people in there?” She crossed her arms to cover herself.

“Come this way, I will make sure no one sees you.”

He guided her around the house to a side entrance.

Oliver was getting impatient, clinging to Betty and demanding to go home, but he stopped whining as soon as he saw Mercier’s two pointer dogs. His giggles and the dogs’ soft barks attracted Gabrielle to the room. Back from calling on a friend, she removed her gloves and feathered hat.

“Have you gone fishing, brother?” she teased as she eyed their soaked guests.

Mercier introduced his younger sister and explained the situation.

Gabrielle promptly put an arm around Betty’s shoulders. “Good heavens, what a fright you must have had. Come with me, we will find you something dry to wear. Jean-François, please have the cook prepare something.”

He watched the three of them walk up the stairs with an odd pinch to his heart. He could trust his sister to take good care of them. No doubt Gabrielle’s congeniality would soothe Betty’s nerves better than he could. But it felt wrong to let them out of his sight. Of course, he couldn’t follow, Betty was about to undress. Not that he was averse to witness that.

Clucking his tongue at his own silliness, Mercier headed for his rooms. He changed out of his clothes, damp from holding Betty, trading the layers of jacket, waistcoat and cravat for a loose linen shirt.

He unlocked his roll top secretary and sifted through files for the one on Lord Wigram.

Douglas Wigram had been doing business in India for over a decade but only moved permanently to the country eighteen months ago. Although his business partners worked mainly in Bombay, he now lived in Calcutta, on the eastern side of the country. He had made enemies in Bombay, amongst which trade partners from the French territories of Mahé and Pondichéry. Rodier, the Governor General of French colonies, had put him on the list of potential enemies who believed India should be united under the British crown.

By taking Oliver back home, Mercier might meet Lady or Lord Wigram and perhaps secure an invitation for some upcoming gathering at their house. From then on, it would be easier to assess if Wigram was a threat.

After stopping by the kitchens, Mercier joined the women on the white marble verandah. In the corner, a punkah wallah with a string attached to his toe stirred a large cloth fan suspended from the ceiling on a wooden frame.

Betty was sat on a reclined Planter’s chair, and, standing behind her, Gabrielle braided their guest’s long brown hair. Both wore loose muslin wrappers, strictly speaking these garments were dressing gowns, but had been widely adopted as day wear in India, perfect for the heat if not quite appropriate to entertain company. Gabrielle tied the end of the braid with a ribbon and laid it over Betty’s shoulder. Water from its tip seeped into the white fabric and a wet ring grew above her breast. She noticed and swept the braid behind her, but Mercier’s gaze lingered on the sheer spot, then on her delicate sun-kissed collar bones. She clutched the fabric on her chest self-consciously, and he averted his eyes immediately.

He cleared his throat and turned to the bar caddy, chiding himself for ogling her. The poor woman was stuck between borderline indecency in the company of strangers and the wrath of Lady Wigram. Yet the light tan of her skin told him it was not her first time out of the house wearing little.

“Brandy?” He offered Betty a glass which she accepted but didn’t bring to her lips.

“None for me?” Gabrielle complained as she sat down on a large cushion.

“Only for those who have rescued someone today,” he replied, drinking from his own glass. “How are you feeling miss Salinger?”

“Better, thanks,” she answered, eyes downcast.

“In this sun, your clothes will be dry in no time,” Gabrielle assured her.

Mercier turned his attention to the garden below. The chirping of blue-breasted quails and Himalayan flamebacks made him search for their colourful plumage amongst the garden shrubs.

“What kind is that?” Gabrielle asked pointing at a small bird with iridescent feathers perched on a palm tree.

“A sunbird, I believe, green-tailed.”

“My brother loves birds and all wild animals,” Gabrielle said. “Do you love nature and animals, miss Salinger?”

“Oh yes!” She covered her mouth, tampering down her own enthusiasm straight away.

“The wildlife of India is marvellous, don’t you think?” Gabrielle insisted.

“The flowers are beautiful, I shall never tire of walking in the Wigrams’ garden.”

“How nice. You love the flora and my brother loves the fauna.”

It’s only out of respect that Mercier didn’t roll his eyes at his sister’s matchmaking attempt. Gabrielle was all but married to Armand, and, before leaving her brother, she endeavoured to find him a companion.

“Do you hunt, Colonel?” Betty asked.

“I have been on a few expeditions.”

“Have you ever killed a tiger? I hear they are terribly dangerous and bloodthirsty.”

“I saw some last year. I was invited to a hunt with a few generals and lords at the domain of the Maharaja of Surguja. They are magnificent creatures, but I did not kill any.”

When their party had arrived in the forest, servants had already baited and drugged the tigers. There was no danger, and certainly no honour, to killing them. So as not to insult his esteemed colleagues, he’d held his tongue and pretended to miss his mark.

“His lordship made a carpet out of the first one he caught,” Betty said. “I always walk around it.”

He smiled at her, and she averted her eyes.

“How is the boy doing?” he asked.

They looked at Oliver, chasing after the dogs.

“Brave lad, he had quite the adventure… oh, what’s the point of fixing me dress, he’ll tell her ladyship everything anyway.”

“He seems quite taken with the dogs, perhaps it’s all he shall remember,” Gabrielle said.

“Let’s hope so.”

Truth be told, Mercier worried more about the dogs than the boy, he was now pulling at their tails and ears.

“Achille. Céleste,” he called.

The dogs joined him, Oliver on their heels. Mercier showed him how to pet and play with them.

“You don’t have to do that,” Betty said, “I should take care of him.”

“It’s your day off, is it not?”

She didn’t voice another objection, instead leaning back and taking a sip of brandy.

“He was lucky you know how to swim. It’s quite rare amongst young women,” Mercier commented. When she offered no explanation, he asked, “where did you learn?

“Me father, sir.”

“Did you live near the water?”

“No.”

He wondered if her reluctance to speak stemmed from shock or shyness. To put her at ease, he told her of a river, near his family’s estate in Boutillon where he used to swim. No more than two-feet deep, but still his mother had forbid him to go. “So of course, I went there every occasion I had.”

“And I followed,” Gabrielle added. “Even after you left, I kept going.”

“Not by yourself, I expect.”

“I always managed to find some company…”

He smiled indulgently at his sister. She used to tease the village boys mercilessly. They did anything she asked as long as they believed they had a chance with her, which, in actuality, they never had. One of them received the scold of a lifetime for bringing her tobacco.

He rolled a cigarette and handed it to his sister. She never smoked in public, etiquette forbade it, but he wanted to check Betty’s reaction. A sort of moral test, to assess if he could use her to spy on Lord Wigram. Betty frowned at Gabrielle exhaling smoke, but he thought it was more from curiosity than judgement. Interesting.

A servant brought a platter of jalebi, deep fried curls of batter dipped in sugar syrup and saffron. Oliver dashed to the plate, grabbing one jalebi in each hand.

“Slow down, sweetheart, don’t spoil your lunch.”

But the adults were as eager as the kid. They emptied the platter in no time, the crystallized exterior crunched under their teeth, and they hummed with delight, sucking their greasy fingertips. Colour returned to Betty’s face, cheeks flushed, her lips tinted gold with saffron, and glistening from the sweet oil. He caught her eyes as her tongue darted to the corners of her mouth. For the first time, she didn’t look away.

“Me granddaddy did, live by the water I mean, near the Eccup reservoir in Leeds,” she said.

“And that is where you learned to swim?” Gabrielle asked.

“Yeah... We went there in the summers,” she added, gaining a little confidence. “Daddy was in the Navy. He knew water can be dangerous, but he didn’t want us to be afraid of it.”

“You certainly were not afraid of it today,” Mercier said.

“Wish I’d stayed longer in the water, it was quite refreshing,” she admitted, hiding a laugh behind her hand.

That made him smile. Perhaps it could be arranged, he’d heard of some rivers one could swim in just outside the city. He refilled their glasses of brandy, offering one to his sister this time.

“How long have you two been in India?” Betty enquired.

“I arrived fours years ago, and Gabrielle joined me a year later. You know what they say, women come to India for two reasons: because they are married to empire builders or because they want to be.”

“I will hear no such thing, Jean-François! It may be unladylike, but I came here because I wanted to see India.”

“And you prefer piano players to empire builders,” he replied, referring to Armand.

“Hush!” She poked him with her toes. “And you Betty, why did you come here? Looking for the perfect man?”

“The only interest I have in men, is making a good one out of Oliver.”

“I like her, brother, you should rescue governesses more often.”

Realizing what she’d said, Betty blushed and glared at her glass of brandy. “As good a man as his lordship, I mean… I should go, we will be late for tiffin. Come on sweetheart.”

“I want the doggie,” the child replied, hugging Achille’s neck.

Betty gently pried him away.

“You can come back to see them again,” Mercier said impulsively, earning a surprised look from Gabrielle.

While Betty and Oliver put on their now dry clothes, Mercier had the driver prepare the buggy. He put on a waistcoat and jacket again, and fixed his hair to make a good impression on the Wigrams.

Although Betty and Oliver looked in better shape, their outfits were still the worse for wear. It saddened him to see her smile now turn into a frown.

“Thank you for your help, Colonel, but I’m afraid it will not do much good.”

Mercier’s ancestors had been knights, and he found nothing awakened the chivalry in his blood like the distress in Betty’s doe eyes.

“Let me take you home and talk to Lady Wigram. I will tell her it’s my fault.”

“I appreciate it, sir, but why would you do that for me?”

“Yes, why would you do that?” Gabrielle echoed.

He could not reveal he wished to make the Wigrams’ acquaintance to spy on them. But he didn’t have to take the blame for that. The truth was he couldn’t stomach any criticism coming to Betty when she’d so bravely jumped in the water before he had even gathered his own courage to do so.

*

As they neared the house, Betty chewed harder on her bottom lip and wrung her hands in her lap. She fussed over the child’s appearance. “Oliver, sweetheart, what did we do this morning?”

“I played with doggies.”

“Yes, exactly, that’s what we did. All morning. We played with the dogs. Do you remember their names?” And she kept on asking about the dogs, to make sure it was all the boy would talk about.

Arrived at the house, Betty had hoped to slip under the radar but Lady Wigram was in the hall. She was a good looking woman, but her pale skin, droopy eyelids and oddly slow demeanour gave the impression she was permanently drowsy.

She took in their clothes and asked: “Good Heavens, what has happened?”

“I fell in the river,” Oliver said before running off to his room.

“My horse pushed him,” Mercier said right away, “it was frightened when the boy came running. Miss Salinger was with him. He fell in a stream, hardly a river, and—”

“You let him run off?” Lady Wigram spoke daintily, but accusation and contempt spiked her words.

“I— I’m sorry… the horse and…”

“She immediately jumped in too, to grab the boy, most courageously.”

Lady Wigram huffed and sent Betty to her room. “You cannot possibly eat lunch in this state.”

Betty’s eyes welled up, and, shoulders bowed, she walked away. As he watched her disappear up the stairs, there was again that odd pinch to Mercier’s heart.

“Really, madam, miss Salinger is not to blame.”

“There is no need for that, Colonel.” She looped her arm through his, guiding him to the front room. “The girl is a lost cause, but my husband knew her father and he’s sentimental, you know how these things go. We make do with her flaws, poor girl.”

Mercier ground his teeth.

*

When he returned home, Gabrielle was waiting for him at the dining room table. He knew that amused glint in her eyes, and only reluctantly sat down with her.

“You like her,” she said in French with that teasing lilt.

“I need her. I have to learn more about Lord Wigram’s business in Calcutta.”

“So you are using her to be in the Wigrams’ good graces.”

“Exactly.”

“Hm.”

“… What is it?”

“And how does taking the blame achieve that?” she asked. “Wouldn’t it have been better to present yourself as a hero, or to at least side with Lady Wigram on staff’s incompetence?” Although she’d formulated her sentences as questions, he knew she was only mocking him by stating the obvious.

“It worked—” he showed an invitation to a dinner party at the Wigrams’— “it’s all that matters. I can complete my last assignment.”

And with that mission done, he would be able to leave India. The governess was his ticket out… or the marvel that would make him stay another while longer.

Chapter 2: Observing

#Mercier x Betty #teninch fic #British Raj AU #Spies of Warsaw #a passionate woman #Edwardian era #historical au #dwcastxover #lostinfic writes stuff