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blogevaawrites · 3 years

Text

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris’s house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Epilogue

“It’s not fair” the voice from de other side of the phone was deep, he was slurring his words. I did recognize it, it was hard to forget it, but it was quite odd hearing him like that, so drunk that he couldn’t speak.

“Chris? It’s 3:00 am. I was sleeping.” I said sitting on the bed better.

“Oh yeah? How does that feel? You know what? I was doing it fine. I let you go; I was getting you out of my head. Why it's so fucking easy for you to get into it?” he sounded sad and mad at the same time.

“Chris, I’m sorry if what I told you hurt your feelings, it was mean, I know. I'm really sorry. Your personal life is not my business anymore.” He didn’t let me finish. He wasn’t interested in my apologies.

“I wanted everything of that with you. I wanted a wedding, I wanted to find a fucking house together, a big fucking house to have a big fucking family. I made up my mind to have kids, adopt two and maybe have one, because that was your dream family. And fuck! I wanted it so much, I wanted to be part of that fucking dream so much. I don't want it if you aren't in the equation. Why it's so hard to believe for you? Why don't you want everything of that just with me? It's not fucking fair, why are you still in my head? How can you be so collected?” his words brought me back to the time I told him my dream.

He was staying in my apartment after being away for a couple weeks, he couldn’t sleep because of the jetlag and I wasn’t tired either, he was happy for my sleeplessness, he hated being alone in somebody’s else house. We went to get a few donuts, one of the perks of living in NY was, no matter what time is it, you can always find some food.

I remembered we walked the entire night, just talking, enjoying each other’s company.

He told me about his family, about his relationships with his parents, with his siblings and he explained to the adoption’s process of his sister. I told him about my workmate who thought that adopting a child and having a baby was not the same, that he wouldn’t take care of a someone’s child. He was so absorbed in his donut that he responded without looking at me.

“Sorry, if he’s your friend, but he’s an idiot. Being a parent is about loving, taking care of and protecting a child, not a biological relation.” I saw him in a different way, in that moment I realized I loved him. He continued in his unawareness and asked me about my family, and my dream family.

I told him about what kind a family I wanted. I wanted to have a big one, a big house, a couple animals and a house in the woods. He laughed “I would never have said you were like that.”

“What? Why?” I tried to look offended, but it wasn’t the first time I got that. “I don’t know, you love living here, your tiny apartment and your demanding job.” he was right, I loved that, but I had always lived by my own, I was used to it. “My apartment it’s not tiny.”

“Honey, you don’t have a dog because of it.” He spoke. “It’s a standard-sized apartment in NY” I defended “That is just another statement in my favor” he laughed.

“Are you okay?” I asked coming back to the reality.

“I thought I was until I saw you. How can you be so happy? Why can you live without me when I’m not able…” he blurted out all his inside feelings, I knew him, I knew he wouldn’t tell me those things if he was sober or calm. He is so impulsive. I knew he was going to regret it later. “Chris…” I interrupted him but he didn’t stop. “Fuck, I miss you and I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry” I said calmly. He didn’t respond. The line was alive, but he was in completely silence. “Chris?” and I didn’t hear nothing else.

I put my phone back on my nightstand while the conversation came to my mind. I don’t usually come to L.A, but I was Linda’s birthday, and we came to celebrate it. The club was new and kind of exclusive, I shouldn’t have been so surprised of finding him there.

He was chatting with a girl; I couldn’t see her face, but I could see him. He was so close to her, caressing his arm and touching her face. I wasn’t sure if I was on his vison, but it hurt me a bit he didn’t notice me.

The night went fine, I tried to forget about him and enjoyed the rest of the night. At some point, I went out to smoke a cigarette, I wasn’t a smoker but sometimes it feels good.

“Can I have one?” he said, I recognized his voice, I could feel his presence. I turned around to face him. I handed him one cigarette, trying to look calm. “Thank you.” He said with a smile. We stared for a few minutes until he spoke. “You look gorgeous. Your hair in that way, it has always been my favorite.” I give him a little smile as a thank you. “You look...taken.” I said, I shouldn’t have, he was free to do what he wanted. I had to admit that it bothered me, I got jealous. He didn’t look bother, anyway. He shook his head with a shy smile. “Well, you’re wrong. I’m completely single.”

“Is she aware of that? It doesn’t work if one of both doesn’t know it.” I said, he didn’t look hurt or annoyed by my words. He looked cheerful. “Ouch! Low blow. She is, don’t worry.” He said, looking at me right into my eyes. He is so flirty with a few drinks. “We are just friends. I’m not very good at relationships.” He spoke.

“I wouldn’t say that you’re not very good at it, you just miss the monogamy part. I thought you were ready to settle down. I guess they’re right, talk is cheap.” I threw out my wasted cigarette and was ready to say goodbye, but his face changed. He looked mad then, he didn’t say anything, but I noticed his mood wasn’t the same. I went too far. He got inside the club before me, without a word.

In the morning, I checked my phone. He didn’t call me again, but he did send me text.

“Sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have call you I was drunk and being an asshole. I`m so sorry. I won’t bother you again. Take care of yourself!”

After the day he left, we didn’t talk for three months. We didn’t have a tough conversation since then. He sent me flowers with a simple note for my birthday but nothing else.

“Hey girl! Why are you up so early?” Linda spoke, entering the room. “It’s 1 p.m.” I said joking. “Whatever! It’s my birth-weekend, if I said it’s early it is” she said with a big smile. “Why are you awake? We needed this, enjoy it and go back to bed.” she asked again.”

“I saw Chris last night” I said simply. “Where? At the club? I didn’t see him. Are you okay?” she got worry.

“Yes, at the club. And yes, I’m okay. We talked and I was being mean and kind of a bitch. He got mad and called me later. It was weird.” I responded.

“Why were you being mean? Did he tell you something?”

“He was with somebody. I don’t know, I got jealous.” It was hard for me to admit that I wasn’t like that I was completely against that but couldn’t help it.

“It’s normal, you were deeply in love with him.” He said before kissing me head.

We walked around the city and get lunch at a very nice and modern place. I didn’t think about him for the rest of the day.

“I know he lied and cheated but he is so fucking good looking.” Lucy commented suddenly. All of us got confuse until I turned around to see what she was staring at. A big billboard promoting his new film. Indeed, he was hot but in the picture he was breathtaking.

“Isn’t a shit that he is everywhere? I mean he is your ex.” Vanessa asked eating his meal.

“Yes. I guess.” I said simply. The topic of the conversation didn’t last long.

I didn’t realize he was everywhere until she mentioned it. The rest of the day he was in everything, Instagram, TV, even in the street.

I couldn’t take him out of my head.

“You are on every-fucking-where. Your face is all over this place.” I laughed, entering his house, he was filming something in L.A and I got a few days off to be with him. He was the face of a new fragrance so pictures of him were everywhere. For the first time in our relationship, I realized how famous he was. L.A was the place where I was with an actor and the rest of the world I was just with a guy. We were getting home from a night out. We were kind of drunk, not too much but in a very happy mood. “Oh! Shut up!” he said laughing. “Oh! Sorry sir, I don’t want to bother a such an important person. I will be a good girl.” I mocked, before I could do anything else, he took my face to his. “Will you?” he asked seductively, he kissed me deeply, holding my face firmly. His touches were always like that, comforting, protective and loving. I nodded smiling, unable to say anything with his mouth on mine. “Even L.A is a nice place when you are here.” He muttered against my cheek. His hands flew to my thighs to pick me up and take me to his room. Slowly, he took off my dress and helped me to get out of shoes. Just in my underwear, he smiled at me, and rubbed his gingers through my collarbones, the middle of my breast, my stomach and played with the band of my panties. “Haven’t you come out of my dreams?” he said. I moved my arms up to cover myself, laughing at his comment. “Alcohol makes you sappy.” I spoke. He took my hands to bring me closer to him “It makes me honest.” He kissed me and continued “Not even alcohol makes you speak. You’re such a cold heart chick, aren’t you?” he joked, I knew he was playing because he was smiling and kissing me but that wasn’t the first time, he insinuated something like that. “Chris…”

“I’m just joking, relax.” I let it go because I knew he was kind of right, I’m not a very affective person, or someone who loves to talk about love, but I was working on it.

At night we went to another club, it was a chill night, so we didn’t drink, we just talked and ate. When we wanted to go back to our rented house, we took a taxi but in the middle of ride I realized I left my jacket at the wardrobe’s club.

“Don’t worry! Get inside! I will be back in a couple minutes.” I said while the girls got out of the taxi.

I went back to the club, looking for my jacket. I asked the girl in charge of the wardrobe for it, she looked at me for a little bit too long. She handed my jacket and asked. “Sorry for question, but your face looks so familiar to me. Weren’t you Chris Evans’s girlfriend?” I got uncomfortable and she noticed. “I don’t want to bother you, it just I remember your face from where I used to work in. I worked in a restaurant in NY for a long time, and you and Chris used to go there, quite a lot.” She explained, I remembered her then, it was one of our favorite restaurants, and she was one of the waitresses. “Oh, yeah I remember you, Hi.” I spoke.

“We weren’t allowed to talk to our costumers there, I just wanted to tell you that you both make such a good couple, me and the other girls were in love with you guys.” She made me smile. We said goodbye and I left the place with him in my head.

“Okay, I’m ready. We can go.” I said to my driver, he was nice enough to wait for me to get my jacket. “Back to the house, right?” he asked turning on the engine. “No, can you take me here?” I asked, showing him the address on my phone.

I didn’t want to think about it twice. I wanted to see him.

As soon as we were near to his house, I realized I didn’t know where he was, he doesn’t come to LA until he has to. He was here yesterday but that was all I knew.

I got out of the taxi. “Do you want me to wait, or should I go?” the driver asked. For a few minutes I didn’t know what to do, and I saw the driver’s face was sightly impatient. “You can go, thank you.” I answered quickly, I wanted to see his face.

I rang the bell; I held my breath and I hoped he was there.

I waited for what I thought it was an eternity, but it was just two minutes.

I hear his voice on the intercom, and I blocked. “Who is it?” I couldn’t talk. I forgot how to speak. He waited not long before turning on the camera. I saw the red light and I knew he could see me. I didn’t say anything, and the sound of the door opening brought me back.

I walked to the house, and I just could see his silhouette because of the darkness.

“Are you trying to get even?” he joked, “Sorry to tell you, but you’re not as much intimidating as I can be, you can’t scare me”.

I didn’t respond, I kept walking in silence until I was at his door. Face to him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?" he asked, suddenly worry about my state. I guess my expression was concerning.

“I’m sorry.” I just could say.

“Don’t worry, you can come whenever you want.” He spoke.

“I don’t mean that. I’m sorry…” I wanted to explain but he interrupted me.

“Hey! If this is about the call, don’t worry. I was being irrational, please! Just ignore it.” He looked shy.

“Can we talk?” I asked, I was feeling uncomfortable being outside. Before he could speak a woman’s laugh sound from inside the house, I realized he wasn’t alone. I blocked again. Him not being at home was an option, but I didn’t imagine that he could be with someone else.

“Oh! Shit! I should have called. I’m sorry,” I said, and I started to walk away. He looked confused for a few seconds before getting my arm. “Holy crap! No! Stop! It is not what you think! It’s Tara and Scott” he yelled.

I turned around and he continued “I had a few meetings here and they are spending the weekend here.” I felt the embarrassment going over my body. “We can go inside but they will be around. We can walk around the neighborhood, believe me it’ll be more private.” He suggested. I doubted for a second, but I nodded, he was right we’ll have more privacy.

“Okay! Wait a minute! I need my shoes.” He said before going back inside the house.

I started to regret, I wasn’t sure why I was there, what I wanted or anything. Before I could make any decision, he was back. He closed the door and started to walk by my side.

We walked for a few minutes, in completely silence. Our appearance was kind of odd, he was wearing sweatpants, an unmatched hoodie, and a pair of sneakers. In another hand, I was wearing a midi black dress, my shoulders were free and my feet in super high heels.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s kind of chill, isn’t?” he asked, breaking the silence, and starting to unzip his hoodie.

“No, I’m fine.” I knew he was trying to start a conversation, but I just didn’t know what to do.

“Great.” he said awkwardly. The silence came back. We just walked around the houses, there wasn’t many, but they were big enough to get us tired.

“So, how have you been? I heard about your promotion, I know you were trying to get it.” he asked, he knows if I was nervous, he had to keep up with the conversation.

“I’ve been fine, and yeah I got so excited for the promotion. Linda threw a party.” I told him. “I know, I saw a few pictures on Instagram.” He said quickly. Letting me know he had been stalking me. I looked at him in the eyes and he got what I was thinking about. He wrinkled his eyebrow trying to think how get out of judgment. “Okay! I could say you were suggested by the logarithm but, whatever, I was just curious. I have the normal curiosity of an ex-boyfriend, of a non psycho ex-boyfriend.” He explained shyly. He made me laugh and that made him smile. I felt more relaxed then.

“I’m sorry for being so mean at the party.” I spoke. His smile vanished and he started to shake his head slowly. “it wasn’t my business…”

“Hey! No! it’s fine, I was being too sensitive. I know you were joking. Don’t think about it. My call was completely out of place.” He spoke.

“I wasn’t joking, I was having an attack of jealousy.” I told him the truth. I had had a few with being his girlfriend but I didn’t admit it so I was a big statement for me.

“Well, you shouldn’t have…” I knew he was being nice enough not to make me feel even more humiliated. I interrupted him.

“I know, I know you’re free to…” I tried to explain but he spoke over me.

“You shouldn’t have because she is just a friend” he saw in my face a smirk that got him know what I was thinking about he used to have a lot of just-a-friend‘s friends. “A normal, regular, simple friend. We have been friends for years. Actually, I think you know her, she was Jessica, do you remember her?” I nodded, we used to go out with her when we were in L.A but we didn’t come very often. He didn’t like it and I was more than happy to be in N.Y.

“Great, can we pretend I didn’t say I was jealous? I feel ridiculous now.” I joked, he smiled at me and guided me to sit in a bench. “Now we’re even, you have my mortifying call, and I got your brutal honesty.” It was weird how I felt around him, after all that time, he could make me feel butterflies. I was still in love with him.

“I was being completely serious when I told you I was ready to settle down with you. You don’t understand how fucking different everything was with you, and when I realized how important you were to me, it was too late. I know I don’t have any right to be upset because I was the one who fucked everything up, but these past months I have been irrationally mad at you. I felt that you were taking my future with you away from me” he said laughing at himself. I was surprised by his words.

“I know, it’s a shitty though.” He continued when he saw my unbelieving face. “but these couple months have been awful, I haven’t felt like this before. I went to therapy and I realized that I’ve been sabotaging my relationships for a very long time. I didn’t think of it as a problem but then, I lost you and our relationship, and everything changed.” I kept quiet, astonished by his words.

“Chris…”

“No! Please, let me tell you something first. I’m sorry, for everything; for making you go through all of that, for not loving you how you deserve to be loved. I’m going to regret what I did for the rest of my life. I just want you to know that I truly loved you. Fuck! I’m still in love with you, I guess this kind of love doesn’t go away so easily.” He said, making my eyes get wet.

“Why didn’t tell me anything of this before?” It was everything I could say.

“Because you were right; what we had, wasn’t going in the right direction. You deserved better. And to be honest I was afraid to see you again, I wanted to leave you alone as you told me and even now, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do that.” His speech left mute. I didn’t know why I came and now I wasn’t feeling any better.

I got up, and without a word I started to walk back to his house; I could feel his anxiety for my silence, but he didn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t all bad, was it?” I said in a try to cool off the situation.

“You were the best part of my life, honey. Of course, it wasn’t all bad!” he said uncomplainingly. That took every word off of my mouth.

After a big deep breathe I said, “I’m sorry for being so cold in our relationship.” He tried to stop me, but I didn’t let him. “I’m not very good at showing love, I know it hurt you in order of how you are, but I really tried to make it better.” I knew he hate that about me, not just avoiding the word -I love you- but I used to avoid expressing every feeling. I was a very lonely person so I didn’t know how to do it.

“I love every aspect of you, honey. You shouldn’t feel sorry for anything” he said. I knew he was right but I couldn’t help it.

“I should leave, it’s getting too late. I’m sorry for bothering you.” I said, he looked confused, but he didn’t say anything. We walked back to his house silently.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked when we were getting close to his entry’s house. I nodded “Why you came? It’s not like I don’t love to see you or know about you, but it was unexpected. And I don’t believe you came to say sorry.” He commented.

I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t have a reason to come.

“I honestly don’t know.” I said after a couple minutes. ”I saw a billboard announcing your new film. I remembered you. I started to think about you, about us. I just felt the need to see you.” I explained. He nodded and opened the door. “Give me a second, I will give you a ride,” before I could say no, he was inside the house.

I waited for him, getting close to his car and I remembered the first time he brought me to this house, I just moved to NY at that time, and we weren’t anything more that friends. He was being so talkative during our way to this house, which it wasn’t odd, but something told me he was overexcited. We spent literally every minute of the week together, he was a fun guy to be around, and the sex was explosive. The last night, he set up a romantic dinner in the garden and showed me what he was so excited about.

“What’s this?” I asked surprised, holding the little box he handed me.

“It’s a gift.” He said simply, smiling at me. “Come on! Open it.”

It was a pendant, the one we saw in London, when I was visiting him while he was filming. After our first date in the airport, we kept in touch by texting, when he had to fly back to London for work, he asked me to visit him. We went for a walk one day and we passed by an antique jewelry store. I realized it was similar to one pendant my mom used to wear, I didn’t know he was paying me attention.

“It’s beautiful!” I just could say.

“It is! Just like you.” I wasn’t sure what was the meaning of the gift, that weekend in London was months ago. He saw my expression and kept talking. “I knew this was going to make you happy. I want to make you happy. Just you.” He was asking for exclusivity, and I wanted the same thing. I couldn’t say anything because he spoke” You don’t need to say anything right now…” I kissed him deeply before he could continue. I straddled him “Should I assume you want the same thing?” he said between kisses. I nodded smiling while he moved us to the seat next to the outdoor fireplace. He rolled my skirt up in my waist, leaving my butt free just covered it by his hands. He felt my uncomfortableness and said, “Don’t worry, nobody can see us.” I looked at him questioningly by his conviction. “I promised. Trust me.” he said kissing my neck. ”Do you trust me?” he asked again. I did, I trusted him, I’ve sent him nudes, told him my deepest secrets or my filthiest thoughts. “I do” I simply said.

Trusting him became our biggest issue, maybe our only one, but it was enough to break us.

I missed him.

In the car, he asked me where I was staying, and he drove us through L.A’s midnight.

“Are you seeing somebody?” he asked suddenly after I quite long conversation about my promotion and his new project. “You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry if it’s too nosy.”

“No.” I answered, and a little smile appeared on his face. “Are you happy about my loneliness?” I joked, he chuckled.

When arrived, I said goodbye and got out of the car. I didn’t hear him getting out too.

“Hey” he called. Holding me from my arm. “Is it too bold to ask you out?” he saw my surprising face and kept on “Maybe when you are back in NY, I could go and have a date.” He spoke rapidly.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” I wasn’t sure about what to say, I wanted to yell yes, but leaving him was the most painful thing I’ve done. I couldn’t handle it again.

“I don’t know. To be honest I just really need you in my life again. I feel completely empty without you.” He spoke. “You don’t have to answer right now. Just think about it. Okay?” He said, I nodded, and he started to walk back to his car. Before he could leave me again, the words just came out of my mouth without any warning. “Yes”

He turned over to see me again “Are you sure?” he looked surprised. “Yes”

“I can wait.” He said with a big smile in his face. “I don’t think I can.”

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285 notes · View notes

theskywaslookingback · 3 years

Note

tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽

Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!

[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]

I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.

Under 5k

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“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.

“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.

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In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.

“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”

“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”

Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”

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"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.

“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”

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In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.

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Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.

(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)

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Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

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A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.

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Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.

"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.

"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."

Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.

Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.

Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.

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“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”

“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”

It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]

“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.

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And there is nothing else besides this.

Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]

“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.

“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”

Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.

shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]

“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”

Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.

get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]

Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.

Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.

i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]

'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'

Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.

lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]

Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.

Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.

only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]

This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…

Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.

Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved

5k-20k

and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]

It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.

ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]

How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!

Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]

“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.

“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?”

“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.

Jon and Martin go home for a little while.

Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]

Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.

But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.

house by tomatoes [G] [9k]

Martin can take care of himself.

roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]

Jon is hiding under the desk.

----

There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.

Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]

“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.

i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]

After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.

Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

---

In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Over 20k

The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]

It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…

“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.

Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.

“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”

It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?

By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.

The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.

Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]

Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?

if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]

In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly

the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]

“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”

“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”

The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]

It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".

Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.

RATED E *MINORS DNI*

A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.

“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.

“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”

Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.

Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]

"Flame that warms the coldest night Bring to us the waxing Light, Be with us on Solstice Night." Gypsy - Bring Back The Light

There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.

Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]

“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”

Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.

“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”

At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]

A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum

triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]

A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics

a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]

Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.

Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.

Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?

#statement ends #anonymous #fic recs #save #((this took me like two hours lmaooooo))

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wordsandshawn · 4 years

Text

Midnight Drive

Here’s some fluff that has been sitting half-finished in my drafts for what feels like forever. I really like how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy!

|| message me || masterlist ||

word count: 1.5k

The kind of tired you’ve experienced over the last six months since the twins were born is the type of tired you had never experienced before in your life. It’s the type of tired you didn’t think it was possible to feel. Pulling all-nighters to study for exams or staying up all night because of jet lag doesn’t even come close to the kind of exhaustion you feel now.

Shawn took the first few months off after the twins were born, but he went back on the road when the twins were three months old. You’ve spent time on and off with him on the road because you and Shawn agreed that you wanted to keep your family together as much as possible.

However, after a month on the road with the twins, you and Shawn decided together that it would best for you to return home and for him to finish out the next couple of months on his own. Traveling with the twins was more difficult than either of you imagined or could have predicted and it was taking its toll on both you and Shawn. With his attention divided between being a husband and father, helping you with the kids and also being a performer and putting on a show every night, it was affecting his performance in both areas.

So after a rough month of traveling that wasn’t good for anyone, you and the twins returned home to Toronto. Shawn has come back home as much as he possibly could in order to be with you and spend time with the babies, but it still feels like he’s rarely ever home. You have your family’s support and Shawn’s family’s as well, but everyone has their own lives and jobs, and you could never ask them to drop it all to help you with the babies.

You and Shawn have discussed the possibility of hiring a nanny, but you haven’t found the right person yet, meaning it has mostly been you and your twins for the past few months with the occassional visits from family members, and Shawn’s short breaks at home.

Its nearing one am, and both babies appear to be wide awake for a reason you can’t quite comprehend. Both have just eaten and had their diaper’s changed/ You’re exhausted, but the decision basically makes itself when neither baby appears to be going to sleep. You don’t want to wake up Shawn, since he just got home last night, and he has to be feeling pretty jetlagged and exhausted himself. Trying to keep them as quiet as possible, you strap both babies into their infant car seats, hushing them and quietly talking to them the entire time, hoping they’ll be tired enough to sleep soon. You’re almost out the door when Shawn comes padding down the stairs. He seems only half awake, but he must have woken up, noticed you weren’t in bed, and come searching for you. When he sees the babies in their carseats, he seems to be more alert.

“What’s going on?” He questions, rubbing his eyes then yawning.

“I’m taking them for a drive.” You respond.

“Now?” He questions, his eyes widening.

You just shrug, this isn’t the first middle of the night excursion the three of you have been on and you’re nearly certain it won’t be the last. Shawn knows that you sometimes take the twins out for drives when they’re fussy or won’t go to sleep because it’s one of the only things that actually calms them both down and almost always puts them right to sleep. He just didn’t know so much that you do it in the middle of the night like this.

“Yeah, they’re wide awake and I can’t get them both down at once. It’s easier to take a drive. I got it Shawn, go back to sleep.” You say, putting both carseats back on the ground before closing the space between you and Shawn to hug him briefly.

He hugs you back, but when he lets go, he doesn’t turn to walk back upstairs like you expected. Instead, he grabs the carseats, “I’ll take them, you go back to sleep.” He says determined.

“No, it’s okay, Shawn.” You try to argue.

He pauses for a second, the two of you, both tired just standing there at the foot of the stairs. “We can both go?” He offers, adding, “I’ll drive.”

The suggestion sounds nice, so you immediately agree. Five minutes later, Shawn is backing out of the garage, both babies safely strapped into their carseats, and you get comfortable in the passenger seat, admiring your husband and hoping the babies fall asleep soon.

Shawn turns the radio down so only soft sounds are coming through the speakers. The predictable movement of the car serves to not only lull the babies to sleep, but you find yourself dozing off as well.

You’re not sure how much time passes, but you open your eyes with the intention of checking on the babies and telling Shawn its time to head back home, when you notice Shawn turning into a parking lot of a fast food restaurant.

“What are you doing?” You question.

He startles a bit, not realizing you had woken up, before saying, “I thought you were sleeping.” He pulls the car into the drive-thru lane that has only one car in it. You can only assume it is full of drunk and/or high college kids since the University isn’t far from here. You remember when that was you and your friends, but it feels like a lifetime ago now.

“Remember when I first got my license.” Shawn reminisces.

A smile crosses your face remembering being sixteen, but it turns into a frown. “And then you left for LA the next day.” You respond.

Shawn smiles, shaking his head a bit. “Yeah, but when I got back. Do you remember that?” He persists, trying to jog your memory, to see if you still remember.

You can’t stop the smile that crosses your face. Of course you remember. “I don’t think my parents know about that to this day,” You shake your head at the thought of being a teenager and Shawn showing up at your house in the middle of the night because his flight got back late, after your curfew on a school night, so you weren’t supposed to see him until the next day.

It wsa close to one am when Shawn texted you saying he was outside, and he just really wanted to see you. Practically giddy with anticipation of finally getting to see your boyfriend again after two weeks, which felt like a lifetime back then, you snuck out, got into Shawn’s brand new jeep, and he took you through a drive-thru where he bought you french fries and ice cream.

The car in front of you moves forward, and you glance into the backseat to see your twins both fast asleep. Shawn rolls down his window and orders a large fries and two ice cream cones. He asks for an extra cup on the side knowing about your strange way of eating ice cream, and then he turns to you, asking, “Do you want anything else?”

You shake your head and he turns back to the screen, “That’s it. Thank you.” He tells the cashier. She lets him know the total, and he starts driving forward, pulling his wallet from his pocket.

After Shawn pulls out of the drive thru, the bag with the fries in the console between you two, and you holding the two icecream cones, he parks the car in the parking lot on the side of the building. Both you and Shawn know that you could easily go back to the home you now share, with no threat of waiting parents to bust you for breaking curfew or to tell Shawn to go home, but instead, the two of you sit in the car, your two babies fast asleep in the backseat, reliving what had become your tradition back in high school whenever Shawn returned home from a trip.

Once you got older and had more freedom, you stopped sneaking out to see Shawn in the middle of the night. And for the past few years, you only had to roll over in bed to be closer to him. You don’t even remember the last time you did this. It was definitely long before the twins were born, maybe even before you got married.

Shawn hands you a spoon from the bag with the fries and you take it, moving some of the ice cream from the cone into the cup and then eating from the cone. Shawn just shakes his head a bit at your weird habit, but he still smiles. You and Shawn eat the ice cream and fries, quietly talking so you won’t wake up the kids. So much has changed since the two of you used to do this together, but you’re still every bit as in love with Shawn now as you were back them when you’d risk being grounded for breaking curfew if it meant you got a few stolen moments together.

#ive been kind of obsessed with dad!Shawn lately if you havent noticed #I dont know why #Shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes #Shawn Mendes blurb

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tobesobri · 4 years

Photo

𝓛iterally cannot believe there’s only four chapters left in this 😩This one is another turning point in the story and honestly possibly the saddest shit so far so i do hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER NINE: PRETENDING (4.6K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

By the time Harry got home on Saturday, he felt like absolute shit. And it wasn’t because of the flight or his nonexistent jetlag, it was because his kitchen was tidier than he remembered and the pile of dirty clothes he’d left in the hamper in his closet was, instead, neatly folded on his bed. He felt like shit because while he was grasping at strings just to get anyone in his bed with him, she’d been here cleaning his place for him when she didn’t have to.

She had made his bed again and wiped off the stray bits of his facial hair around the sink he’d left after shaving before hopping on his flight.

There was no way she didn’t know about what he’d done in New York, not after the photos came out that had littered every inch of the internet. He knew she didn’t use social media often herself, but he was positive it had been brought to her attention at some point. So while she was here making his life easier, he’d been fucking around on the other side of the country.

And he could never tell her why. That he missed her so much it seemed like a good idea in his drunken mind at the time. He’d just wanted someone to hold onto at night again so he could get some sleep, but instead he just got the awful sex he didn’t want and all the regrets to go along with it. He had no clue what she thought of him now, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Still, he texted her and it might’ve been the cherry on top of all the dumb things he’d done this week, but it was getting late and he needed her. He needed to know she didn’t hate him.

(Harry, 9:46 pm)

Can you come over tonight? I just got back.

She rolled over in her bed, grabbing her phone from her nightstand and squinting her eyes at the bright screen only long enough to know it was from Harry. Quickly after scanning her eyes across his message, she put her phone back, face down on her table before she curled up under her comforter.

It was bad enough that she’d spent the past day and a half moping around her apartment, overthinking every single little thing. Even worse that she let it get to her last night, letting her pillows soak up her tears again, but she knew it would be too much to see him again right now. She just needed time to get over it. Harry could sleep with and see whomever he wanted and it shouldn’t affect her. She was just starting to accept that fact when he just had to fucking text her.

Because she could also see who she wanted to without it affecting him. She just… didn’t want anyone else anywhere near her if it wasn’t Harry.

Groaning, she rolled over again and texted him back. She still needed her time, but she was doing neither of them any favors by avoiding him. She didn’t want him to think she was mad or jealous or anything she had no right to be. He needed to know that if he’d found someone he wanted to be with that she wouldn’t get in the way.

(Y/N, 9:58 pm)

Give me an hour.

It was plenty of time for her to take a shower and get her routines done first so that when she filled her backpack, she had no trouble packing lightly. Sneaking out of her apartment with twenty minutes to get her to Harry’s driveway wasn’t as difficult with a heavy bag on her shoulders, especially since her roommates knew she was supposed to be in her own bed tonight.

She used up all her spare time driving to Harry’s place when she paused in front of his neighbor’s bushes and almost turned her car right back around. But she didn’t want to feel the way she had been anymore, so she kept going. All the way to his front door.

Where he stood. Where he stood with his arms crossed over his chest in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants, pacing his short front porch until she pulled up.

He watched her while she got out of her car, slinging her backpack on before shutting the door and meeting his eyes warily. When she got closer to him, it was clear she was beyond confused as to why he was standing out in the cold waiting for her. He was clearly worried about something too, the way he pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and index fingers, fidgeting in a way she’d gotten used to him doing when he was nervous or lost in thought.

He stared at her feet when she took the two steps up to the same level as him and it wasn’t until she stood there, silently waiting, that he scanned his eyes up her body and back to her face. A face he had a really hard time looking at without the urge to break out in tears.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asked.

He blinked once and then shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

His voice was a mumble from under the hood he had over his head. She knew what he was apologizing for, but he had no need to. They weren’t dating. He didn’t cheat on her. There was nothing between them that would stop him from doing what he wanted with who he wanted.

“It’s fine.” She mumbled.

Now he was the confused one. Her words ricocheted back and forth through his brain. It’s fine. He almost would have rather her deny having any clue what he was talking about. This was… it hurt. So fucking bad. He titled his head slightly, working on questioning what she meant by that when instead his teeth shuttered against each other as the breeze had finally gotten the best of him.

“Can we go inside?” She continued in his inability to say anything else. “It’s cold out here.”

He led the way in after nodding in agreement, noticing for the first time that she wasn’t dressed as warmly as he was. He wondered if it had really been the breeze that gave him chills or the way she had completely brushed him off that froze him to the core.

He locked the door behind them while she waited in the foyer. Something had definitely changed between them and she didn’t like it. She didn’t quite know how to fix it yet, but she wished more than anything they could begin where they left off on Tuesday.

Once he turned to her, throwing his hood off in the process, she turned on her heel and went for the stairs. She couldn’t do anything facing him the way she was. He watched her as she ascended the stairs, having hoped they could figure things out downstairs first but she clearly had other plans.

He huffed out a nervous breath, shut off the lights, set his security system, and followed her up to his bedroom.

She was standing at his window when he joined her and when he stopped in a spot a few feet from her, she glanced at him sideways just as nervously as he felt.

Because she was nervous. She hated confrontation, especially when they clearly weren’t on the same page about things. If there was one time when she needed to suck it up and tell him how she felt, it was now.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Harry, it’s not like we’re dating here. You do have to tell me if you want to be with someone, though.” It broke her heart to say that, to admit to herself that Harry only liked her in her head and not in real life. It broke her heart to even think about letting him go so he could be with whoever he wanted, but she knew it was only fair.

He was quiet, eyes intent on her even though she hadn’t braved even a second glance at him yet. It broke his heart that she really thought he wanted someone else, and he had no one to blame for her coming to that conclusion besides himself.

She sighed. “I’m not going to hold you back so we can keep doing this.”

He hid his face when she turned to look at him, trying to hold back the tears that were uncontrollably burning his eyes. He just nodded, sucking in a breath as he started to feel himself crumbling. He needed to get out of there, fast.

“Um, I think I left a light on downstairs.” He glanced at his bed then, but never once looked her in the eyes, too afraid his voice would crack if he did, “You can go ahead, I’ll be back in a minute.”

He left without even giving her a chance to say anything else that would shatter his heart more. Before he even made it out of his bedroom, he was wiping tears from his cheek and trying to hide it from her the best he could.

At least until he was downstairs, at his island counter, that’s when he let it all out. He leaned over on the marble, his forearms flat on the stone with his head buried in them as the sleeves of his hoodie soaked up his tears. His entire body shook like a nine-point magnitude earthquake had just rolled through his chest with little care for the essential organs that lived there.

He cried harder when he thought about the way he’d walked out of the room. He didn’t want her to see him break down like he was about to, but he’d left her believing his one night fuck up was anything more than just that. And even worse than that, she didn’t even really seem to care. She didn’t show him a stitch of emotion. He would have been fucking gutted, worse than he was now, if she’d been with someone else like that.

It fucking hurt that the only thing she could say was that if he wanted something more from someone else he should be honest about it so they could stop. He thought about how she hadn’t texted him at all and he wondered if she’d already made up her mind about it before he messaged her. That thought, that she might’ve even considered stopping what they were doing, tore him up all over again.

He muffled his sobs by biting his sleeve, positive he hadn’t cried this hard since before he got to know her. It wouldn’t stop either. Even after his eyes dried up, the pain was still there, because all he could think about, still, was the way she didn't care. She wasn’t mad at him, she wasn’t fighting back her jealousy. There was just simply nothing, but at the same time, it told him everything. He’d only known she cared about him before because she trusted him and now… he had no clue if any of that trust still remained. And it was all his fault.

It took him a while to put himself back together, to be done crying long enough to wipe his eyes and come back to her. Even when he did, it was different. She was still awake, waiting for him when he returned, and she still cuddled up next to him and he still wrapped his arm around her like he always did, but it was different. There was an awful feeling in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

“I don’t want to be with someone.” He admitted, mostly to himself. Mostly to convince himself. The someone he wanted was her, but she was so far out of his reach. She didn’t like relationships, and he was the absolute jackass who fell for her anyways. “I was just drunk and did something stupid.”

“Okay.”

“But, um… if you…” The tears almost returned and he gave himself a moment to stop feeling everything so much. “If you wanted to be with someone, you would tell me too, right?”

She sighed, melting into him just the right way he was used to. The way he missed and craved and longed for. “You know I don’t… but yes. I would.”

It went on like that for a few nights. She still came over, things slowly started to piece themselves together again, but it all still nagged at her nonetheless. There was still the issue of Harry writing songs about someone she couldn’t wrap her head around. The selfish bits of her thought maybe they were about her, but she knew better. Harry didn’t have to waste his time on her. There were people in his league that he could learn to trust the same way he had with her. There were people that would open up to him fully without being terrified. People that could give him everything he wanted. He didn’t need her and she didn’t deserve him, and she did nothing but remind herself of both every single night. Even when wrapped up in his arms.

Everything about her had changed again. Going to Harry’s and sleeping in his bed didn’t put a smile on her face quite the way it used to. Will noticed it more than anyone. The way she never came out of her room when she wasn’t at work or at Harry’s. The quiet sobs he heard through the thin walls on nights when she did stay home.

Despite what Will might think, her sadness this time wasn’t because she felt utterly alone in the world anymore. It was because she finally found someone who didn’t make her feel so lonely, and she’d let her feelings for him and her feelings toward herself mess everything up.

It had hurt a lot less when she was empty and hopeless before Harry crashed right into her life.

So when Saturday finally came, and Will invited Harry over for dinner after a successful week in the studio, she really wished she could do anything else. Will was just trying to help, knowing Harry seemed to do the trick with getting Y/N into a better mood. Maybe she liked him a little bit more than everyone else, but either way Will had figured it was worth the try and Y/N knew that, so she didn’t argue too loud.

Around six in the evening, Y/N leaned against the counter while Will poured takeout onto plates, preparing for both his girlfriend and Harry to join them while James and Violet were gone for the weekend. The mere thought of having Harry over with considerably less people around had made her stomach twist into knots and her mind race all fucking day.

“Glad to see you out of your room. Glad to see you at all, actually.” Will said.

“Well, you offered dinner so…”

Will rolled his eyes, knowing better than trying to have a serious conversation with her. “I swear to god between you and Harry, I’m going to lose my damn mind.”

“What about Harry?” She asked, trying hard not to seem so obviously interested in Harry’s life while she organized fortune cookies into a single-file row.

“This entire week he’s been spewing out songs, crying about shit, spewing out more songs. He’s driving everyone nuts, but at least his album’s getting somewhere.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, stepping around the counter to help him start moving the platters of food to the table. While doing so, she thought about what Harry had to cry about that he wasn’t telling her. She’d been at his place almost every night the past week, the same days he was driving everyone nuts apparently, and he hadn’t said a word to her about it.

Maybe something really had drastically changed between them… and she still didn’t know how to fix it.

She dove even deeper into her thoughts when Harry was sitting right in front of her thirty minutes later. She watched him pick at his food and avoid looking at her, a completely different way about them both than the last time they’d been in these exact spots together. When they had stolen glances at each other and she’d stared at his hands a lot. Now it hurt too much to even look at him for five seconds at a time.

It was mostly him that was off. He didn’t look at her the same way he used to, like when he thought she wasn’t looking but she knew damn well he was. She’d missed the way he did that, which was something so unlike her it wouldn’t make sense if it wasn’t Harry. She didn’t like people looking at her.

As always, though, Harry was the only exception to every rule she’d ever set for herself.

But now he wasn’t doing all the things she loved. She didn’t catch his eyes one single fucking time while they ate dinner.

“So, Will said the album’s going well?” Sasha asked Harry amid the very obvious but very unexplainable tension in the dining room.

Will nodded before Harry said a word, and then dug into the front pocket of his jeans to pull out his phone. “I told her I would show her part of Golden, if that’s okay with you. Because it’s my favorite since we wrote it and recorded it in like five hours on Tuesday.”

That’s when Harry finally looked at her. When she didn’t even notice his gaze because she was too busy staring at the screen of Will’s phone next to her while he opened his recordings app. He looked at her long enough that it would usually get her attention, and so when she didn’t even give him the satisfaction, he hoped playing the song might get him a glance or, if he was being greedy, a smile from her.

Harry cleared his throat, “Sure.”

When the audio started, Will eagerly pressed his top volume button so that everyone could hear it loud and clear. It was a rough start of what was probably going to be an amazing song, Y/N knew that at the very least. And then there was a voice, a voice so distinctly Harry’s it made her head spin hearing him sing. Because she forgot he did that. She’d never really heard him before, at least not like this. She’d heard him like a whisper through the walls, and listened to some of his professionally recorded music before. This, on the other hand, was a lot more raw.

She listened as Will played two chopped bits of the song that pieced together really beautifully, although the lyrics she made out were the complete opposite of the upbeat melodies.

The first one seemed like the chorus, “You’re so golden, I'm out of my head, and I know that you're scared, because hearts get broken.”

The next one Will played hurt a little more. “I don’t wanna be alone, when it ends, don’t wanna let you know.”

But she didn’t know what to think. She was quiet while they all got loud. While Sasha asked him to play the recordings again because she liked it so much. The music was light, like driving down the highway along the coastline with the top down. A summery type of song even though the lyrics were as cold as winter.

She thought back to her daydreams and as much as she would have liked to indulge in the idea, she knew for sure now that there was absolutely no way he’d written a song about her. Maybe the lyrics made sense to their situation, but there was absolutely no way she’d be hearing it in front of their friends when he wouldn’t even give her a single glimpse at his writing journal. When he wouldn’t even talk to her about work or about whatever had been going on this entire week. If he wouldn't even do any of that when it was just the two of them, there was no way he’d be letting her listen to a song about her right in front of Will.

“S’not finished yet, but…” Harry shrugged, glancing Y/N’s direction again just to be left utterly disappointed. She was avoiding all of them, twisting her fork around in a mound of noodles she had yet to touch and he didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t know why she’d just heard a song so very obviously about her and she looked… upset.

Because, to her, the song was further proof that he was keeping something from her. That he was in love with someone while she had been in his bed leeching off of him. And she suddenly realized that’s what had changed between them.

She felt like she was using him again. Her guilt about everything they were doing might not have fully gone away, but it returned stronger than ever. That she was holding him back, even if he’d been honest before. He could be out there fixing his loneliness instead of spending nights with her. And it made her head hurt to think about.

To think she had really been letting herself fall for him only to be slapped in the face with the harsh reality that she wasn’t good enough and hadn’t ever been. And if he did, by some miracle, like her the way she’d wanted him to, it was just because of the way they’d gone about things. That it could have been anyone in her place and the outcome would be the same.

Even if the song was about her… why couldn’t he tell her any of that in person? He’d always been open with her, even when she wasn’t at times. Why did it feel like ever since he got back from New York two weeks ago that Harry was suddenly a fucking stranger to her?

“I have a headache.” She mumbled as her excuse to leave, long after the topic had shifted from Harry’s music to the wellbeing of Sasha’s mom. Even though she felt bad about it, she couldn’t stay at the table a second longer, so she took her dirty dishes to the kitchen to clean out and no one said a word to her, except for Will, who reminded her to take some ibuprofen. But especially not Harry. He was radio silent as she went back to bed.

As he finished up dinner and said his goodbyes to Will and Sasha, he left for the first time in a long time the same night. Left without waiting up for Will to go to his room. Left without knocking on her door, without joining her in bed. Crawling under her blanket. Breathing in her coconut shampoo for the millionth time.

He was leaving because it hurt too much to stay. It hurt ever since he came home and things weren’t the same. She didn’t need him or care about him anymore. It hurt when he looked in her eyes and he didn’t see himself reflected back in them. He saw nothing. And it hurt so fucking bad.

The studio was a little less cheery when all Harry could squeeze out was lovesick lyrics about Y/N. When he couldn’t finish songs on a rainy Tuesday morning because his heart hurt too much to even think about her.

It had been three whole nights without her, without even a text and it was making him crazy. He thought a little distance might do him some good, but it was having the opposite effect. She never texted him, and it killed him not to ask her to come over. It killed his sleep schedule as well.

“This random girl from New York has some kind of hold on you, huh?” Will asked when it was just the two of them, outside the little Los Angeles studio, buried in the brightest, green nature the western parts of the city had to offer. Will nodded over at Harry, silently pointing out the bags under his eyes and all the sadness that had poured out of his brain recently. The rain was a fitting backdrop behind Harry’s slouched shoulders and red eyes.

“It’s not…” Harry sighed, crossing his arms around himself while he stared out at the distant view of the Pacific. “I slept with her because of the one I’ve been writing about.”

“Oh.” Will seemed genuinely shocked. Mostly because… if it wasn’t her then he had no clue who had Harry so messed up. “So it’s a mystery girl you won’t tell me about?”

For the first time in… he had no clue how long, some semblance of a smile appeared on Harry’s face, even if it was exasperated and sarcastic. “No.”

“And it’s the same girl you said doesn't like you back?”

Harry nodded, not really willing to verbally admit to it right now. Back when he’d first told Will about her, he’d been hopeful that he was just misreading things. That she might actually have actually liked him. But now… All hope was lost.

He knew Y/N was bad with emotions but a little bit of anger or jealousy would have been better than nothing at all. The rain really was quite fitting.

“Does she even know that you like her?”

Harry sighed, a bit agitated because he knew Will was about to go on one of his advice rampages and he didn’t have the energy for it. “Not exactly. I feel like I’ve made it obvious though.”

“You’re really dumb, you know that?” Will stood after leaning against the outside wall of the studio and stepped closer to Harry near the edge of the roofed patio as he gave Will a very offended look over his shoulder. “You can’t just assume girls know things, especially if you’ve never actually said those three words. They can’t read minds.”

“Yeah but… what if I say them and it makes things worse?”

Will shook his head in disappointment, “People tend to regret the things they didn’t do or didn’t say more than the things they actually did, H.”

Harry was almost one hundred percent sure that if Will knew who he was giving Harry advice about, it would not at all be the same conversation. He wouldn’t be telling Harry to confess his undying love for Y/N. Will knew her better than Harry did. Hell, Will might tell him to get out while he can because clearly Y/N was going to do nothing but break his fucking heart.

And like magic, he heard her name coming out of Will like it had transferred from Harry’s brain to his friend’s mouth. He didn’t quite like the details that went along with her name, however.

“Why don’t we have a party at your place again? Like old times.” Harry scrunched his nose at the idea and Will huffed, leaning up against the wood railing next to Harry like he was defeated, “I gotta do something to get Y/N out of her room, man.” Then his voice got softer, “I thought she was doing better, but I can’t listen to her cry anymore.”

Harry’s entire body tensed up. Tears welled in his eyes without his permission. He knew she was crying because of him, whether or not he wanted to admit it. Maybe not for the same reasons he’d been crying recently, and even though imagining her alone in her room like that made the last bits of his heart finally break off, he was relieved to know she did feel something. That it hurt her too to be away from him.

“Besides,” Will turned to face Harry again, “Perfect opportunity to invite this girl so you can work your shit out.”

Harry hung his head in his hands, biting his tongue. Once he had the urge to just come out with the whole truth under control, Harry looked at him again. “Fine, but you’re in charge of snacks.

Taglist: @afterstylesmadeit @cxnyon-moon-deactivated20200417 @and-im-not-okay-with-it @chrryblsms @whydontharry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @idkthisisjustforfanfic @teddysoldbird @shawnsblue @thurhomish @theasstour @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @staceystoleyourheart @granolagrannie @defineharry @iambabyharry @1142590m @ashtondene @smokeinherperfume @cherryyharryy @mellamolayla @chrryblsms @cassiopeiaskies @sunflowerjens @detroitkiwis @brwnskin-bunnyteeth @cock-a-doodely-doo @strawberrycaramelmocha @meetmeinfleetwood @harriesgolden @rachkon @caritocp @sspidermanss @forestliz @grandfunnyemopainter @metalmerida @httpsmoony @iconicharry @amberlovestombrady @ainatirb-j @cheesecakebagels @cronias13 @dontyoucallhimbabby if you’d like to be added, go here :)

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

Text

If at first you don’t succeed... just live with your mistake

“My mommy’s the Style Queen.”

“Well my mommy’s an Italian Ambassador.”

Chloe scoffs. “So? My dad is the Mayor of Paris.”

AKA Chloe and Lila have a dick measuring contest.

______________________________________________________________

“This is your fault, Audrey! She acts exactly like you when you’re jet lagged and caffeine deprived. She definitely got it from you.”

“Excuse me?” Audrey delicately slams her iced mocha down on the imported Rosewood table. “She got it from me? I’m not the one whose name Chloe has dropped in every one of her little school fights.”

“I just don’t understand.” Gianna Rossi nurses her head in her hand. The whiskey that was delivered to her didn’t have the opportunity for water to condense on the sides, so the table remains free of stains. “How did Lila end up this way? I’ve always tried to lead by example, and I spend as much time with her as I can!”

Audrey pats Gianna’s forearm with a gloved hand. “Maybe it’s just teenage rebellion, darling.”

“I wish,” Gianna says, glumly. “Do you think it’s because she grew up without one of her parents?”

“Nonsense,” Andre waves his hand, still wearing the pretentious ribbon that proclaims he is the mayor of Paris. “Chloe grew up with a mother, and she turned out exactly the same way.”

He mutters more quietly, “Though a mother that was gone so often she might as well not have even been there.”

Audrey smacks Andre on the arm. “You know very well that you were gone more often when she was a baby. We agreed that we would rotate focusing on our careers every few years.”

“Yes, honey, but I’ve been on Chloe duty for the past eight years. You only took care of her when she was a toddler.”

“Who was the one who had to change diapers Andre? The one who woke up at 3 AM to feed her? The one who taught her the goddamn alphabet? Tell me that, Andre, tell me that.”

Gianna motions for another drink to be brought over by the butler that Andre and Audrey employ. Audrey holds up a hand and shakes her head. “Don’t do it, Gianna. It’s almost 4:30. School is going to get out soon.”

Pressing her head up against the lacquered wood, Gianna sighs. “All the more reason for me to drink.”

“You don’t want to be inebriated when you have to deal with Lila, do you?”

“I do,” Gianna wails. “I have to be! Do you know that Lila makes me drink more than my job does? And I’m the one who has to file all of those awful akuma attacks that always end up targeting Italian tourists because some people are still not over what we did in World War II!”

“Italy did do a lot of awful things back then,” Andre mutters.

“Shut it! Whether it’s right or wrong, one akuma attack out of every twenty five deals specifically with the prejudice against Italy. Italian tourists get caught up in seven attacks out ten. I’ve had to issue so many incident reports that I think I’m going to get carpal tunnel soon.”

“I can’t believe you have the statistics on those.”

Gianna’s voice shoots up two octaves. “You’re the mayor of Paris. Shouldn’t you be keeping track of statistics like these?”

“Ah,” Andre laughs awkwardly. “Of course I am. But back on topic. Who do you think it’s going to be this time? Chloe or Lila?”

A moment of silence. Then, in tandem, all three of their phones buzz.

“You just had to jinx it, didn’t you, Andre?” Audrey pulls out a pocket mirror, reapplies her lipstick, then stands. “Let’s go see what our girls did this time, non?”

Placing her sunglasses over her eyes, Audrey continues, “A hundred euros that the Dupain-Cheng girl will be one of their targets.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, honey. That girl has too much of a spine for either of them to get her involved.”

Gianna sobs for the umpteenth time that afternoon. “If Lila was just a little bit more like Marinette, so many of my problems would be relieved! Do you think if I pay her enough, she’ll be friends with my daughter?”

Audrey and Andre exchange glasses. Andre shakes his head. “Friendship won’t work. We tried to get our Chloe to play with Adrien. He’s still as well-mannered as ever, but Chloe… In any case, I’ll raise your hundred euro bet to one fifty and say that Sabrina will be involved.”

“That’s no fun,” Audrey complains. “You always take the obvious bets.”

The three parents make their way to Andre’s limo. Gianna may or may not take two shots of vodka on her way there.

“Chloekins!” Andre stretches his arms out to his daughter. His bad knee pops twice as he gets down to kneel.

“I don’t know why he insists on playing good cop bad cop when it hasn’t worked once in the past five years,” Audrey says to Gianna.

“At least you have a significant other to make that work. I have to be the good cop and the bad cop, all in one person, and it hasn’t worked ever. Maybe I should try looking for other single parents. Adrien’s father is single, right? And Adrien is such a sweetheart. Maybe I should try--”

Audrey waves her clutch slightly in the air to cut her off. “Trust me when I say that is an awful idea. Not only does the man still believe Emilie is alive, but he also keeps an obscene amount of iconography of her in his bedroom in his manor. And even if he somehow gets over Emilie, wish isn’t going to happen anytime soon, that snake, Nathalie, has been waiting in the wings even before Adrien was born.”

Gianna’s shoulders slump. “I thought ‘the good ones are all taken’ is only a phrase that’s supposed to be used by students.”

“Daddy!” Chloe stomped her foot. “I demand that you deport this-- this miscreant from Paris at once!”

“Daddy’s so proud of you for learning a new big word.” Andre continues to fawn over his daughter while Chloe and Lila’s classmates look on disgustedly at the dual display of affection and undermining Chloe’s intelligence. Nino lets out something that sounds suspiciously like, “Sick burn, dude.”

“Daddy!” Chloe’s voice gets even higher, and Audrey counts at least five of Chloe’s classmates cover their ears and wince. Andre glances back at Audrey, clearly expecting her to come in and lay down the law. Audrey doesn’t even bother raising an eyebrow in disbelief, She just stays completely still until her husband gets the point and turns back to their daughter, shoulders slumped.

“Sweetheart, we can’t just deport Lila for no reason,” Andre tries to placate Chloe, unsuccessfully. Somehow, the classmates and the teacher have gotten a hold of popcorn, and are now sharing it amongst themselves.

“I told you. It’s not for no reason. It’s because she’s a miscreant!”

Andre falters. He’s always given into Chloe’s demands, and Audrey has always been the one to fix things after. He gives in. “Okay, sweetheart. Then we can--”

“Hold on.” Gianna steps in between Andre and Chloe. Audrey smells alcohol coming from her mouth. Gianna’s cheeks are slightly pink. Audrey, herself, doesn’t believe in midday drinking, or really, drinking at all-- she thinks that it ruins skin and that inebriated people simply aren’t attractive-- but perhaps if Audrey wasn’t so involved in the fashion world, she’d be a little more similar to Mme. Rossi. “How about we hear both sides of the story before deciding what needs to be done?”

Lila and Chloe lock eyes, then immediately turn away with each other, crossing their arms at the exact same time. If Audrey didn’t remember every detail of Chloe’s birth because it was so painful, she’d be inclined to believe that the two girls were twins, or siblings at the very least. They’re just too similar in their mannerisms to believe that they’re completely unrelated.

Fluttering her eyelashes and playing up the image of a false saint that precisely nobody in the school believes anymore, Lila, looks at Andre and Gianna through watery eyes. “Chloe was bullying people! I simply had to intervene.”

“That’s not true! She was the one who started it!”

Gianna sighs. If she were any less of a woman, she would immediately buckle to the ground. But she’s been dealing with the Italian-Parisian politics, which are often fraught with tension, for nearly three decades, and with one Lila Rossi for thirteen years. “Why don’t we hear from an impartial third party?”

The three parents turn on the rest of the classroom. Sometime during the chaos, Caline Bustier fainted, and was promptly escorted to the nurse’s office by Mylene and Ivan. No matter. Caline isn’t the most… impartial or intelligent person they have to choose from. Audrey does feel slightly responsible for her lack of intelligence, as Chloe beaned Caline in the head with objects of various size and weight throughout Ecole, which is why the woman isn’t out of a job.

“Marinette and Adrien. Why don’t the two of you tell us what happened?” Audrey points at the two teens that are whispering to each other. They certainly have an interesting dynamic. If Marinette was taller, she’d love to have the two of them model for some of her shoots, together. No matter. She still has time to grow, and she has it on good word that Sabine is doing all she can to make sure her daughter grows to at least Tom’s height.

Chloe gasps. “You remember Maritrash’s name, but not mine?”

Beneath her sunglasses, Audrey rolls her eyes. Really, she makes one attempt at the younger generation’s humor, and it backfires on her horribly. She fired the intern who recommended that joke to her, so there’s really nothing more to be done. This is why it’s just so much easier to be harsh.

Luckily, Adrien deescalates the situation before Chloe starts on a second tangent that will likely end in tears instead of a fit of rage. Audrey wonders if she’s really that emotional when she’s jetlagged and in need of a pick-me-up. She’ll have to ask her assistant, next time.

“Well, it really started as two seprate issues at first.” Adrien rubs the back of his head and looks down at his feet. Maybe there’s a tradeoff. Indiscriminate rage in exchange for common sense. Confidence exchanged for timidity. “Chloe was… upset because she didn’t get a perfect on the last assignment Sabrina submitted for her.”

Audrey rolls her eyes again. What, there’s a reason she wears sunglasses everywhere she goes. She simply can’t deal with people’s stupidity, or when people make clearly exaggerated-- or in this case, very, very, almost criminally under exaggerated, judging by the bruises forming on Sabrina’s knees-- claims.

“And Lila was spinning another lie about Jagged Stone to Nino. Something about her being his lovechild,” Marinette finished. Now there’s a girl who has confidence, is more than confident at her craft, and is pretty. Really, the only negative things that she’s heard about the girl is that she’s sort of a clutz and rather bad at getting places on time, but both of those can be remedied. Etiquette class and a personal driver, and everything will be fixed.

There’s also the small matter about her apparently having the capability of picking locks and hyper fixating on whatever she likes, but Audrey has been trapped by men trying to get a ransom from Andre at least four separate times, and she wouldn’t be here today if she wasn’t a bit of a daredevil of lycee. As for the hyperfixation, so long as she’s able to move onto a new area of interest in time for each new collection, Audrey sees no reason why Marinette can’t excel in the fashion world.

“Lila Rossi! You know you are not the daughter of Jagged Stone! You’re going to be grounded for two weeks!”

Marinette nudges Adrien. “Excuse me, Mme. Rossi. Why don’t we finish the whole story before issuing any punishments? There’s… more.”

Adrien is associated with that good boy next door kind of aesthetic, but he pulls off unintentionally mildly ominous like he was born to do so.

“The short of it is that Chloe pushed Sabrina, Sabrina fell onto Lila, and that made Lila and Nino kiss. After that,” Marinette eyes Nino, who is wiping his mouth with his eighth wet wipe and being soothed by Alya with an arm on his shoulder. “Well, things kind of devolved from there.”

“You mean,” Chloe hisses. “That this wannabe pulled my hair, scratched my face, and knocked me to the ground!”

“You made me bleed!” Lila pulls her sleeve up. There aren’t actually any marks, but there aren’t any marks on Chloe, either.

“They did roll around on the floor for a while,” Alya admits, “But both of them were so up in each other’s business that it's difficult to make out who actually landed a hit on who, if either of them did manage to hurt each other. I have the footage, but even after we watched it a few times, it really just looks like the two of them are bear hugging each other on the floor.”

“Are you guys forgetting the real victims here?” Kim half shouts. “My beautiful face!”

Alix slaps him on the back. “Don’t worry about it. If it scars, it’ll just make you look mysterious. If it doesn’t… well I can’t say that your looks were ever good to begin with.”

Sabrina shuffles her feet. She’s definitely less injured than Kim’s nail scratches, with only bruising on one arm and on both of her knees.

“Chloe didn’t do anything bad,” she defends. “She’s perfect just the way she is!”

“That’s right, servant.”

Marinette turns to Adrien with a question in her eyes. He nods.

She bangs her head against his shoulder.

“Sorry about that, Chloe’s voice just really grates on me sometimes. I need to knock my head in order to get the ringing to stop.”

Lila shoots a smug look at the blonde girl. “See?”

“Lila’s too,” Marinette says, then bangs her head against Adrien’s shoulder one more time for good measure. “Adrien, Alya, do either of you want to continue?”

Adrien pulls Marinette into his chest. Alya steps forwards as the Champion of the Truth. “After their catfight, Kim and Sabrina broke them up. Sabrina took Chloe, Kim took Lila. After the two of them were separated, Mlle. Bustier went to M. Damocle’s office so all three of you were contacted. Chloe tried to go at Lila again once Sabrina loosened her hold, but Marinette geupplexed her.”

“Seriously,” Marinette stares at Chloe’s completely unruffled appearance. “What kind of hairspray does Chloe even use? Her hair is made of steel.”

“Her hairspray is made from venom and spite, dude.”

The tell tale sirens of a police car approach. “Oh, by the way, did M. Damocles not tell you that the police were going to take both of them in for questioning?”

“No,” Gianna Rossi says, curling in on herself. “No, he most definitely did not.”

Chloe and Lila are led away in handcuffs while the parents stand in a group, almost numbly.

“Why are our children like this?” Gianna pulls her hair. She’s had to take off so much time from her job this month alone in order to accommodate Lila’s ridiculous behaviors.

“Be comforted by the fact that they’re not working together. Can you imagine the kind of plans they’d think up?”

“Actually,” Alya interjects. “They have. Were you never contacted for the time they sent Marinette flying out the window?”

“WHAT?”

#original content #miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #audrey bourgeois #andre bourgeois #gianna rossi #crack #comedy #everybody is done #lila salt #chloe salt

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closer-stars · 4 years

Text

By Your Side - San

Member: San Requested: Yes @hoe9for9kpop Genre: Fluff Word count: 5k+ Content: Jealousy. Don’t forget to communicate ! San needs reassurance. Bit of angst. Wholesome stuff. Note: this took... forever. I tried. I went through a bit of a writer’s block somewhere but I got through it. I hope it’s okay?

The male looks up from his computer upon hearing a few knocks against the door. “San-ah! Is it okay if one of my friends stays at our place for a week?” You ask simply. Your boyfriend looks at the phone in your hand then at your features.

“Yeah, that’s fine. What’s going on, babe?” He asks before you return your attention to the phone.

“My friend needs a place to stay for some business thing but his company won’t cover his living expenses.” You return with a frown. He doesn’t say anything else but a nod, quickly returning to his game, yelling at Yunho to save him. He did make a mental note to ask you more about this after, right now he had to make sure he and Yunho last through the entire round.

“Hey, babe. Who’s this friend of yours?” He asks casually over dinner. He doubts his memory sometimes, there were times where he doesn’t remember things especially when explained to him while he was tired. He notices how your eyes brighten up and how happy you look as you explain that they were an old friend since high school. Both of you kept in touch even if he moved elsewhere before the start of university. While you were in the middle of telling him stories, his phone rings. He gives you an apologetic look, seeing that it’s from the company. His schedules can start at the weirdest times sometimes. You don’t mind though, it’s part of his work.

While you were cleaning up the dishes, he immediately returns to you after the call. “Are you sure we can still let my friend stay? I don’t want it to go in between your work.” You say as you put the plates in the cabinets. You were already devising a plan for your friend in case you had to retract your offer. He helps clean up the counters as he laughs softly at your concern. “Baby, don’t worry. Your friend can still stay with us. My manager just had to remind me of my early schedule tomorrow. We can still pick up your friend from the airport three days from now, right?” He says, making it a point to show that he was paying attention to what you’ve been talking about.

You couldn’t help but flash a smile of gratitude at him, and press a kiss on his dimpled cheek.

“Love you, babe.”

The following days moved by a lot faster than you expected and maybe it was because you were just excited to see your friend again. While San was at the company for preparations for their upcoming promotions, you stayed at home cleaning the place up along with the room your friend will be staying in for the next few days. Once you are satisfied with how your place looks, you immediately get yourself changed to get ready to go to airport. San messaged you a few minutes ago that he was near and once he freshens up, both of you could head to the airport to pick your friend up.

The trip to the airport was a little endearing in his eyes. Your knee was shaking as you looked at the road in front of you. “Babe, we’ll get there in time.” San reminds you in between giggles. You look at him with a sheepish smile. “Sorry..” You mumble, embarrassed. He shakes his head, assuring you that there was nothing to be sorry about. He leans over to press a peck on your lips. “Anything for you.”

Both of you arrive at the airport with a few minutes to spare before your friend comes out. They’ve already told you what they were wearing and you to them, even telling them you brought your boyfriend with you. You lean your forearms against the railing, your eyes trained on your phone screen or on the door, trying your best to not look like you were about to vault through the door.

“What are they wearing, babe?”

You open your phone again. “Black jeans, red coat, white shirt and his luggage’s navy.”

San looks at you with a bemused look. “Are you sure that’s not Mingi?”

“If it was, I would’ve just booked an AirBnB for him.” You joke in return. Just then, the doors slide open to let those who had arrived to head out after claiming their luggage. Both of you shift your attention to the people trickling out, looking for anyone who would match the description.

“There!” You exclaim, waving at a male. San looks at the direction your eyes were set on. He didn’t know your close friend was another man-- well he never did ask, nor did you ever tell him. Oops. His chest tightens slightly at the fact you were so elated to see them again. He didn’t like this feeling either, internally fighting it out as you welcome your friend warmly. ‘He’s just a friend. I’m still the boyfriend.’ He reminds himself over and over as he slowly trails behind you.

“Hwamin! This is San, my boyfriend. San, Hwamin.” You introduce them to each other, hoping that things go well with the two for the week. Polite bows were exchanged, along with other niceties. San doesn’t want to show his discomfort still, and tries to swallow his insecurities for the moment as he offers to take Hwamin’s luggage from him as they head to their car.

“Thanks, San.” Hwamin says, a little relieved to have the tension in his arms be lifted after the hours of being in a plane and dragging his luggage. The trip back to the apartment was the same, you and Hwamin exchanging stories as you fill each other up on what the other has missed. San was on the wheel and for once he was thankful he was in charge of driving, just so he could avoid being part of the conversation. San kind of wishes he could get home quicker without risking a ticket, the sooner they get home, the sooner he can escape the conversation and his thoughts.

They arrive at their apartment in one piece. “The traffic here hasn’t changed. It’s still better than America’s.” Hwamin says with a tired laugh. The two boys lift the luggage into the place, both of them huffing at the amount of effort they had to exert.

“Just what did you pack…” San mutters in disbelief. There was no way a luggage that was roughly the same size as his usual luggage, could be heavier than what he carries in his months long tours.

“Some snacks that they like, and for you. Also heard you were into plush dolls, so..” explained the other as he pushes the luggage into the living room for him to unpack what he can use for the night.

“Hwamin, you can fix your things later. Aren’t you tired?” You ask as you bring the two men some food to snack on. It was already too late for any restaurant to be open unless they wanted to drink then that’s another topic. Just as he managed to grab his clothes for the night and the following day, he manages to toss a small packet of your favorite chips. It was a gift from the higher beings that you had quick reflexes to catch the packet mid-air.

“Don’t think I forgot, kid. To answer your question, I am but still riding that freedom out of a plane y’know?” was his return as he downs his water. San on the other hand, had front row seats to how the two of you talk. Is this how his friends felt when he and you would be that sickeningly sweet couple or worse? San manages to finish his glass of water before rising from his seat. He makes it a point to press a kiss on your forehead before bidding the both of you a good night.

“I’ll see you two in the morning.” were his only words the entire night before he retreats to his room. Hwamin and you look at him slip away, one out of curiosity, the other out of concern.

“Is he okay?” Hwamin asks.

“He has a long day tomorrow..” You trail off. It was true but you don’t sound that convincing even to yourself. You shake your head and get up as well. “Come on, I’ll show you your room and where the bathroom is.” After having done as you said, you retreated into your shared room with San for the next few days.

You peek into the room and already find him in bed. A sigh slips through your lips, quietly getting your sleep wear and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up after a long day. You then quietly slip into bed next to him, your arm lightly resting on his waist.

What you didn’t know was that San was still awake the entire time. Instead of sleeping, he was on his phone while you were still talking to Hwamin, hiding his phone when you entered the room and doing the same when you slipped into bed. He hated how his emotions were slowly making him act out. He didn’t like how you looked so concerned over him when he hushed up as you and Hwamin conversed. He didn’t want to let you know how shitty his emotions were either. How many talks have the both of you exchanged in the past about his insecurities and jealousy? Even before being a couple, the both of you have talked about his jealousy streak and until now, it still affects him.

If he was still going to be this jealous and insecure over your relationship, did he even deserve you at all?

San woke up to his phone alarm buzzing. 5AM. He had to get ready for his schedules today. He looks to his side to see you, still peacefully asleep. If he was jealous last night of how you and Hwamin clicked so naturally, he’s jealous now of how you’re able to get a few more hours of sleep. He lets his lips graze against your temple, letting your arms now wrap around the seal plush toy a fan gave him. When he rises from your bed, you shuffle and whine slightly, slipping in and out of consciousness. San quickly hushes you, “Go back to sleep, babe.”. He quietly gets ready for his day, putting everything he needs for the day in his backpack. Just as he steps out of his room, he’s greeted by Hwamin fixing his luggage. “Oh-- hey, morning.” He greets, awkwardly.

Hwamin looks up, smiling brightly at the male. Damn, how was it possible for anyone to be this smiley at this hour? He takes it as an effect of jetlag. “Morning, San! You’re up early too.” He says as he puts his things aside. Hwamin’s amber eyes finally take notice of San’s outfit. “Ah, right, they told me you were gonna have a long day today. Good luck with work!” San finds himself feeling awkward with such an open personality at this hour, rubbing the back of his neck. He bows to the male and makes his way to the door.

“Oh yeah, they won’t be up until around three hours later. So if you’re hungry, be our guest and cook something if you need.” He calls out from the door, quietly slipping out. It’s only when the manager picks him up that he lets out the groan he’s been aching to let out. The manager hands him his breakfast for the day, letting the male rant what has happened in the past few hours.

“San, if you don’t want to deal with him, just sleep at the dorm with the boys for the entire week.” The manager had a point. You wouldn’t have to deal with his jealousy fueled antics. Yet, he also knew that you’d want to have him and Hwamin interact.

Taking the easy way out just wasn’t him.

He shakes his head as he starts to eat. “Hyung, I promised them I’d be with them this entire week because of their friend. Going back on my word isn’t me-like right?” That made the manager snort in agreement, remembering the days of trainee San making promises and actually keeping them no matter how crazy they were.

“Okay but if anything happens, your room with Yunho is still there.”

You wake up to an empty bed and a seal plushie smiling up at you. 8:30AM. You push yourself up and look at your phone.

[ Sannie ] Don’t forget to eat breakfast! I’ll be home late today :(

You send him a heart sticker as you start your day. You worked as an editor and writer for an online magazine so you were blessed to be able to work from home but for today, you had to give Hwamin a ride to his meeting. Maybe you could work on your articles there.

You quickly get ready for the day but are slowed down by the smell of… were those pancakes? You peek out, already in your outdoor clothes. Hwamin was setting down a small stack of pancakes for the both of you in the living room. “Morning sleepyhead.” He teases, gesturing at you to take a seat.

“Since when did you know how to cook?!” You ask incredulously. The pancakes were topped with some fruits you still had in the refrigerator. “Since I started living with my girlfriend-- well fiance” He notes, casually. “Oh yeah, I didn’t make coffee for you since I don’t even know if you’re drinking coffee now also.. How do you even make your coffee machine work?”

You stop him quickly, putting a strawberry tipped fork at his face. “You’re what!?” Good morning to you indeed. “Also, yes I drink coffee! I’ll teach you the coffee machine later.”

He laughs. Clearly nothing has changed. He brings out his phone to show you the lucky girl. “Met her in one of my business classes. Dude, if I could just introduce the two of you..” He says with such a dreamy sigh.

“You are telling me all of this later. Right now, we have pancakes to eat and an hour drive to your meeting.” You say with more energy than a cup of cold brew could give you.

You spend the next few hours working on articles, making sure all of these were already good enough to be sent to the layout team. A few tables over, Hwamin was discussing deals with other heavy names in the industry. You decide to shoot San a message in the midst of your break.

[ To: Sannie ] Make sure you get something to eat eventually!

A quick glance at the time. He was going to perform in a few minutes so you decide to look for a live stream. You managed to find one just in time to see them step on stage and be in position. It didn’t take much of a brain to know that ATEEZ was a force to be reckoned with. You’ve watched San become who he is, through the ups and downs, and though you weren’t a performer, your eyes have become accustomed to understand the tricks and trades of their art.

This time, your eyes catch sight of how San performs a little harder than usual. While to fans, this might look like he was embodying the entire piece, and to a degree that’s true. To you, you knew just how hard San can go when his performance is fueled by something personal. Today was one of those days and you were a little worried if something had happened prior. Despite that, you had to give the boys credit where it was due.

[ To: Sannie ] you guys did well today! I’m so proud of you, babe. ^^

You tell Hwamin that you’ll be in the coffee shop next to this restaurant to continue with your work before scurrying away to not disrupt the meeting any longer.

San on the other hand was breathing harder than usual, hunched over as he tries to get air into his aching lungs. Who knew performing such a strong song would aid in him dealing with his own personal issues. He’s winded from performing so hard while they still had another performance to go to that day. Performing with an unfocused mind was dangerous, he of all people knows this. They can’t risk another injury: Jongho was still recovering from his leg injury and Seonghwa could barely sit comfortably from his hip injury. If he were to get injured, it was going to be a bigger issue and a longer delay for their next album.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jongho calls to him.

The fox-like male shakes his thoughts away as he detaches the in ears and mic from his head. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He rasps out before taking small sips of water. The youngest doesn’t take his word for it but drops it. They had to get ready to bounce to their next schedule. Their staff has already packed everything up for them so all they had to do was get their personal belongings then bounce. San follows the rest of the members as he reads through your texts and it just makes his chest hurt more than it already does.

Your words were genuine but why doesn’t he feel them to be so?

The ride to the next schedule was quiet, everyone catching up on sleep after waking up so early for those five to eight minutes on stage. “Hyung, what time will our schedule end?” San mumbles to Seonghwa, his head resting against the window. The eldest looks over at the burdened male. From one look, Seonghwa already knew what was in his mind.

“Probably 2 AM.. and San?”

“Yeah?”

“Same problem?”

That made him sigh in exhaustion. Besides you, Seonghwa was one of the most observant to the mood shifts among the members. Seonghwa didn’t need him to expound. He just needed to let San know that the members are there for them and that you weren’t going anywhere. As much as this guy was particular with how he speaks to people around him, he could be careless when it came to himself.

“San, you really need to talk to them soon.”

San knew what he meant by that. The last time he kept it to himself was horrific for everyone but right now, he just didn’t have the heart to do it. Not when Hwamin was going to be at home whenever he was too. He just nods at Seonghwa’s words but his thoughts swam with insecurities and constant comparisons he put himself against your best friend. He closes his eyes, trying to get some shut eye before they’ll be back on their feet for who knows how long. He falls asleep eventually but still his mind was clouded with thoughts and questions, all of which are baseless.

He knows this but he feels powerless to it.

Hongjoong wakes them up when they arrive at their last schedule for the day. He had to admit that having grown so much in a span of two years had its cons. One of them was having to perform in three different points of an entire concert. Being the opening, the middle and closing was to a degree a good thing but when you’re riddled by insecurities and less sleep. It’s just a bad combination for him.

San finally arrives home and all the lights are closed to which he assumes that you and Hwamin are sleeping. It’s only when he enters when he notices the stray light that’s still on in the kitchen. He sees you. He sees you still on your laptop working-- or at least it looks like you’re still working. Without another word, he finds himself nuzzling against your neck, arms wrapped around your torso.

“Welcome home, babe.” You murmur. Just as you were about to rise and get him some food, he tightens his hold around you. “Baby, it’s late.. You need to eat.” A gentle chide that had him whining against your neck but relenting to your concern. A quick peck to the top of his head was his reward for listening then he slips onto the chair next to yours. He doesn’t mean to but he catches sight of what’s on your laptop screen. Short clips of his performances today, along with what fans have been talking about.

“You watched this performance too?” San asks, raising his eyes to your figure. Though he couldn’t see you nod. You do.

“How can I not?” You say in return as you make sure the portions were enough for him. “I always watch your performances, babe. No matter how late or early they are.” There it was again. That pang in his chest that tells him you deserve so much better. So much better than a man who comes home and leaves home at odd times, who leaves home for months on end. He swallows all of it with the food you’ve made for him. He wants to cry but he’s too tired.

“How was your day?” He asks after a few spoonfuls. Your voice lulls him to peace. You tell him about your day, joking about becoming Hwamin’s chaperone in his stay here. Even if your voice brings him to peace, his thoughts bring him chaos. Where your voice ends, the comparisons begin. How would it be if he did a “normal” job? Would things be better? Would he have even met you?

Once he is finished with his late dinner (or was it an early breakfast), he waits for you. You raise the question of what his schedule will be for tomorrow. “Thankfully it’s not as killer as today’s but I still have a photoshoot for tomorrow and an interview.” He says through an exhausted chuckle. You look at him properly after washing the dishes. He looked so worn out. He hasn’t even removed his makeup.

“Let’s wash you up and get you ready for bed, babe. It’s been a long day. I’ll wake you up for your schedule tomorrow okay?”

He’ll take what he can get to put these demons away from his head.

He wakes up to you gently shaking him awake. “Rise and shine, baby. I made you some waffles.” That was enough to get him to sit up. The bedhead makes you chuckle. “Go get freshened up. Your breakfast’s ready.” You say as you pat his hips before leaving the room. He rubs his eyes, and finds his hands free of any makeup residue. Did you help clean him up? The man looks at his phone. 10 AM. His photoshoot and interview were at 2 PM. Enough time for him to wake up and be a proper human being before facing society. He pushes himself out of bed, staggering to the bathroom to wake up.

By the time he comes out of his room in a fresh set of clothes, he’s greeted by the scent of waffles and coffee. “Where’s Hwamin?” He asks, feeling a little odd even in his own space to the absence of your best friend.

You slide his share towards him. “His business partners picked him up, earlier today. I think they’re meeting other potential brand partners?” You return with a shrug of your shoulders, business was never your forte after all.

He nods, a part of him a little relieved to at least have the morning with you to himself. As he slowly eats, he finds his mind going back to these inner demons.

10:45 AM.

“Babe?”

“Yes?”

“Can we talk…?”

It’s crazy how three words can make your heart skip a beat. While the other three words makes either of you feel lighter, these three make you feel heavy. Your eyes tear away from your laptop screen, wondering what has been in his head. The look on his face made it easy to know that this was going to be one of those talks. You put your laptop aside and face him properly.

“What’s been going on, babe?”

He picks at his food almost pitifully. The look on your face hurts him more than usual because he knows he’s at fault for putting such a look on your face. “I just…” he starts but he’s unable to find the words to properly articulate his turmoil. “It’s so stupid.” he continues out of frustration.

“It’s not stupid, San. If it affects you this much then it’s something important.”

His features morph into something like a plea. A plea to help him straighten his thoughts out, to save him from these demons that continue to fuel his insecurities. “Insecurities…” he trails off again, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “It’s just, I have this small fear that you’d eventually leave me. I haven’t even known Hwamin properly but seeing how you two are gave me the idea that you deserve someone better. Someone who doesn’t come home or leave at the weirdest times. Someone who can stay with you through anything. His work’s more stable than mine too if you think about it.” The longer he goes on, the more his words sound convoluted and all you can do as he lets this out is to hold his hand. You listen carefully, letting him know that you’re paying attention to every single word. It’s when he starts to look like he’s about to cry that you sit next to him and have him wet your skin with his tears of frustration and exhaustion. The build up of stress from his work and the sudden presence of your friend and his insecurities had climaxed into this melt down.

You let him cry quietly, his hands clinging to your shirt as if it were his life line. It takes a while before his breathing evens out and that’s when you peek at his features, wiping away the wet trail of tears on his cheeks. “Babe..” You start and you tip his chin to have him look at you in the eye. “Again and again. I will always be here to fight your demons away. I’m not going anywhere without you. You’re the only one I want and this life I have with you is miles better than a life with anyone else.” You say. Your lips press light kisses against his eyelids, the tip of his nose, his chin then his lips. “Hwamin is simply my best friend. Nothing more. Even if your work brings you to the otherside of the world, I will gladly follow if you ask. Even if I tell you to not question how you deserve me or what not, I’ll be here to remind you every single time. It’s because I love you.”

He smiles. Smiles wide enough for his dimples to show and while it doesn’t make his eyes turn into small crescents, it’s wide enough to speak of relief. He presses his lips against yours again. “I love you so much.” He declares quietly, his forehead leaning against yours and you can’t help but giggle.

“I love you too, babe. Now go eat! You still got a schedule later!” You tease him as you decide to feed this baby of yours before shooing him off to get ready.

The next few days go by without a hitch. Hwamin’s meetings were already done and he was already flying back in two days. He and Hwamin have become friends as if they’ve been friends longer than you have with Hwamin. He found his insecurities to be a little childish considering him and Hwamin were now bonding over video games. Especially after knowing that he was already engaged to his long time girlfriend. If bonding can be considered as both of them trying to beat the other in a classic game of Tekken. You had left them alone for the rest of the day as you had to go on errands for your work.

San starts to squeak in panic as he tries to avoid the final blow from Hwamin but all his efforts go down the drain as Hwamin takes the winning hit.

“Rematch!!”

“Nah, I won fair and square San.”

As they look through another arena, their conversation turns back to Hwamin. It felt all the more childish when he realized this guy was already engaged. “You’re getting married when?” San asks as he tries to choose a better fighter this time.

“Next year but right now, we’re both focusing on our work.” He explains as tries to avoid the rapid kicks and tosses San tries to land on him. The two bounce from topics of relationships, you, health and work, almost acting like siblings.

By the time you entered the room, they were still at it. Only now they were trying their own skills at playing dirty in a racing game. You couldn’t believe it really but you were happy. Two of your favorite boys in your life, being in good terms with each other to the point they were fighting it out through a video game.

It was San who notices your presence first. “Hey babe!” He says almost in a hurry to try and beat Hwamin’s player. You watch the TV as the boys start to try and distract each other in order to win. San eventually wins with a few seconds on his side, causing Hwamin to groan in defeat. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a punk phase back in grade school?”

You stare at Hwamin and he looks away as if he hadn’t heard anything. “Give me the other controller. I’m making sure I beat both of you in this.”

The three of you were at the airport. This time to drop off Hwamin. You had to fight the tears from spilling. It was a good week you had to admit despite the rough start, for it to end so quickly had admittedly made you a little emotional. No wonder you and San were an item. Hwamin pats San’s back. “Make sure to take care of them okay?” San nods with a determined grin.

“Congrats on your engagement too. Can’t wait to see the both of you make it official.”

Hwamin then gives you an almost bone crushing hug. “Beat his ass in Tekken for me.” He jokes. You roll your eyes at him and give him a playful jab at his abdomen. “On a more serious note, thank you really. You’ve grown well. I better see you in my wedding.” He says as he walks backwards, waving at the both of you. The both of you wave at him until he becomes a small speck.

The two of you return to your car and San couldn’t help but steal a quick peck on your cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing. I’m just thankful for having you by my side.”

“Always.”

#ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez san #my writings

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Thirteen - Love Me (If That’s What You Wanna Do)

Just like the mornings prior, the light streaming in through the large windows in Matty’s bright house woke her up. However, unlike the mornings prior, the tangle of arms and legs, the arm around her stomach, the soft snoring in her ear and the curly hair tickling her cheek were a welcome new addition. Her eyes took a brief moment to adjust to the room around her. It was nice not being jetlagged, or hungover, it meant that she had enough braincells functioning to accurately recall the events of last night. She shuffled slightly, moving to grab her phone from the bedside table to check the time, only to feel Matty’s arm tighten around her and pull her back into the middle of the bed.

“Stay in bed.” He mumbled; the tone of his voice thick with sleep.

“I thought you had stuff that you’re meant to do today?” She questioned, letting him keep her there anyway.

“Don’t care. Want to stay here with you.” He answered. She already felt that heart-warming feeling spreading through her chest after remembering how last night had gone, and he was very easily amplifying it tenfold with such a simple comment.

“When did you get so sappy?” She muttered as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the blush covering her cheeks.

“I will be as sappy as I damn well want.” He laughed as he squeezed his arms around her, trailing kisses from her cheek to her lips. Fucking hell. How did she ever think that she stood a chance to not fall prey to his charm?

Which pulled her mind back to how they’d left things last night. “So…” She cleared her throat anxiously. “Uh, when did you wanna talk?” It seemed best in her mind to just get it over with.

“Whenever you’re ready to.” He shrugged.

She paused for a few seconds. “Now?” She suggested.

He let out a deep sigh, ending it in a yawn as he rolled over, stretching his arms above his head. “Let’s head downstairs, then.” He nodded. “We can chat over breakfast.”

They made their way downstairs, Y/N/N taking a seat at the small outdoor table as she watched him potter about the kitchen. He hummed quietly to himself as he searched the cupboards for something basic for the two of them to eat. The contented atmosphere around him was plain to see. It was nice seeing him at ease when he was frequently so tightly wound or on edge about something.

He sat down at the table, setting a mug down in front of her as he cradled his own tea in his hands. As he stared down into his cup, he tried to carefully picked his words. Where to begin? “I guess I should start with: I’m sorry about the bet. It er, got a bit out of hand, I suppose.”

“No kidding?” She replied sarcastically as she took a sip of her drink. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that before pulling himself back on track.

“It started as just messin’ about. I liked your company and you gave me a run for my money. I didn’t know what I wanted out of what we had because I wasn’t sure how I felt. I thought…” He swallowed hard, hating that he had to admit the next part. “I thought that I just liked having you around because you helped me deal with my thoughts when they were… getting difficult. I told you that things run smoother for me with company, but I truly struggle without my friends. I wouldn’t have been able to get clean - stay clean, if it weren’t for them. I rely on them massively. When you came along, it was easy for me to shift some of that emotional reliance onto you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She frowned. Had she known that was the case, she would’ve been able to offer some assistance through his rough patches rather than watching him suffer in silence.

“Because I thought if I told you that I felt dependent on you to stay in a good headspace, you wouldn’t wanna be around me anymore. It’s hardly charming to hear that I don’t function properly alone.” He answered truthfully. “In my best efforts to avoid confronting that, I did everything I could to keep you around without being open about why. And the bet seemed like a good way to do that. If I kept dragging it out, it gave me an excuse to stay in your life.” He elaborated.

“Matty, you didn’t need an excuse-”

“Yeah, I know that now, Y/N/N.” He grinned. “But hindsight is twenty-twenty. As it so turned out, anyway, that wasn’t why I was so hell bent on keeping you around.” He pointed out as he took a swig of his tea.

“So…” He stared down at the hole in his jeans, picking at it absent-mindedly. “I ignored my motivations behind what we had for a long time, and gradually they changed without me noticing. It wasn’t until George talked some sense into me after tour ended that I realised why I’d been doin’ it.” She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Because I was into you, too.” He clarified with a roll of his eyes.

“You see? See how it fucking feels to have someone make you say it?” She laughed as she shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I said I was sorry, all right?” He chuckled. “I only realised it while you were away working at that show.”

“Is that what that voicemail was about?” She asked in surprise as the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“Uh, kinda. More so what the call the next day was about. And why I asked you to come out here. Once I was aware of it, I finally had to do what you’d been bugging me about since we’ve met and actually work out what I wanted.” He said with a short laugh. “I wanted to tell you, I knew that much. But the rest I needed a bit of help with.”

“And that brings us to the difficult bit that you didn’t want to confront: what happens after all this is said and done.” He added as he stood up and walked over to his coffee table. He opened the drawer on the side of it, pulling out a stack of papers. Glancing at the cover quickly to double check that he’d definitely grabbed the right thing, he made his way back to the outdoor table. “Because I know that us being into each other doesn’t mean much if I end up on tour for the majority of the year.” He flipped through the pages anxiously, choosing his words wisely before he spoke. “I want you to come and be the director of our merch.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. What? “It’s, erm, it’s a real job. Not something daft I made up like the Rome merch gig. You’d be in charge of our whole merchandising operation: organising stock levels, contracting out the merch jobs to the venues as we tour, making sure that they set it up correctly and that sales are lining up. Sam and I would still be designing our stuff, but you’d do pretty much all the rest. I know you don’t like sitting around doin’ nothing, so it’s proper work. You’d pretty much have to live on the road with us, have downtime when we record or have downtime ourselves. But, um, you don’t have to decide now.” He handed her the thick wad of paper. “This is the contract. Read it over, make sure you know what the job is. And don’t say yes because of me. The offer isn’t anything to do with me, it’s The 1975 exclusive. It was George’s idea actually, it didn’t even come from me.” He laughed lightly, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. Ah, that explained their secret conversation yesterday. “But I don’t want you to say yes because you think I want you to. Which is not to say that I don’t want you to, it’s just…” He let out a deep sigh as he tried to get his thoughts back on track. “Whether you say yes to the job or not, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change any of my opinions. And if you say yes, anything that happens between us, good or bad or nothing, it doesn’t affect the job, yeah?” He had too many things on the list in his head to try and convey that he was starting to worry that his point wasn’t coming across coherently.

She stared down at the papers in her hands as she mulled over the offer. “This is incredibly generous, but I don’t want to be taking someone else’s job away from them.” She said as she went to pass them back. He just pushed it back into her grip.

“You’re not.” He assured. “Previously this is something that Jamie or I did. It’s about time we delegated, so if you don’t take the job it will be offered to someone else.” As he spoke, the sound of his ringtone started filling the air around them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. Realistically, he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Ah, shit… That’s Hann.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. There was still so much more that he wanted to say.

“Are you running late?” She asked.

He nodded. “I gotta go meet the guys at the studio. I’ll be back in a bit. Read the contract, see what you think. Jamie said you can have a week to think about it before he looks for another person to fill the position.” He explained as he made his way inside, throwing a jacket over his shoulders. “There’s a spare key on top of the fridge if you need to duck out.” He shouted as he headed towards the front door. A quick goodbye was thrown over his shoulder, before the heavy door was pulled shut, and she was left by herself to digest all of this information.

She migrated back inside to sit on the couch as she flipped through the contract. He was right about it being a proper job offer. Everything was listed in these sheets of paper, from the amount of hours she should be expecting to work down to how she would have to filter any posts online about the band. The pay was… more than adequate. There were even clauses in there about the contract not locking her into any long-term agreements, she was free to leave when she wanted. It was a tempting proposition. She loved doing merch work, and she’d been doing it on and off for over a decade now. It made sense to take a leap into something more permanent than just taking jobs as they were offered to her during peak touring season. Controlling a whole merch operation for an entire band would be an interesting challenge to tackle, a rewarding one she suspected. But this was much bigger than just a job. It would mean uprooting her life at home, committing to a life on the road. And as much as he said that it didn’t, it did mean committing to Matty to a degree. Whether that was in the sense of a relationship or not, it meant that he was going to become a permanent fixture in her life. Was she certain she wanted that? She’d had less than twenty-four hours to come to terms with the fact that her feelings were actually reciprocated. And did he actually want that? It was a while of her looking at the pages before Allen came to find her; the big dog padding into the living room and watching her with curiosity. She read and re-read certain clauses as he jumped up on the couch and rested his head in her lap, trying to find something that would either seal the deal or break it. But in the end, it was her decision to make. She had to weigh up the pros and cons and decide what was going to give the best outcome.

* * *

Matty made it to the studio a bit breathless, having half jogged there in an effort to not be too late. They were meeting with someone to sort out the pressing of the album on vinyl, and the meeting had started fifteen minutes ago. He exchanged a few quick greetings with the people mingling around the front of the building before making his way down to the back room where he knew the rest of his band would be waiting for him.

“So sorry!” He blurted out as he stepped into the room. “Time got away from me this morning.”

“Not like you to be late.” George stated, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Matty could hear the teasing tone underlying his voice.

“Yes, well…” He tried to think of a witty comeback as he shrugged his jacket off. But he found himself coming up empty.

“Are they the same clothes that you were wearing yesterday?” Ross questioned, eager to jump onto this bandwagon.

“Did you sleep in those?” Adam chimed in.

Matty sat there in silence, running a few responses through his head. None of them were going to get him out of this. “So, we need to get Notes out as soon as possible,” He started, opting to change the topic instead. George sniggered a laugh under his breath.

The meeting went well. They organised that the vinyl could be out in a few months once they were ready to go ahead with the final master of the album. A few last administration bits and pieces were confirmed. They lined up their next few social media posts and when they would be posted. Things were really starting to come together. Once it was just the band left in the room, Matty finally felt the stress release from his shoulders. He knew he was about to receive a hard time from his mates, but at least now he wasn’t gonna have to let strangers in on his personal life.

“Why were you actually running late?” George asked eventually. “Did you finally talk to her?”

The smile he was trying to conceal gave him away before he could even start talking, earning a chorus of approving noises from his friends. He waited until they’d calmed down for a second before he spoke. “Yeah, we’re on the same page now.” Matty nodded. “And I was going over the contract when you rang.” He added, gesturing towards Adam.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, man.” He apologised.

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “I left it with her so she had a chance to read it.”

“And?” George urged.

“And what?” The lead singer frowned in confusion.

“Are you guys together now or what?” He clarified.

“Oh, erm, well…” Matty started hesitantly. He hadn’t had the chance to get to that bit this morning.

George let out a loud groan in annoyance. “You still didn’t ask?”

“I didn’t want her to feel weird about it! Throwing the job offer and that at her in one morning seemed like too much. I just told her that it didn’t matter if we were or weren’t, the position was separate to all that.” He explained. Adam nodded in agreement. “I was gonna get to that part once she knew if she wanted to join the team or not.”

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer then.” Ross said with a nod towards the door. “Go see what she has to say.”

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard the front door lock click open. Allen instantly jumped off the couch next to her to bound towards the sound of the noise, and she heard Matty greeting his dog eagerly before seeing him step into the living area.

“Sorry, I tried to get out as quickly as I could.” He said, kicking his shoes off.

“How was the meeting?” She asked as he flopped down onto the couch next to her.

“Good, yeah.” He said with a nod. “We sorted out a few last things with Notes so it should be right to go soon.” He eyed the papers sitting on the table. “So, uh… how did you get on with the contract?” He asked, clearly anxious about her answer.

“It’s very… thorough.” She chuckled.

“George wrote it up with Jamie to make sure that all the legalities were covered and you had an out if ever you wanted one. We of all people know how rough this sort of lifestyle can be.” He should probably stop talking about the downsides of the job if he ever hoped for her to want to accept it.

“I went over it a couple of times, the job itself seems great. The only things that worried me were having to relocate my existing life at home to commit to living on the road with you lot. I don’t know if I could cram my life into a suitcase. And I’ve never handled something as major as this. There’s a lot to learn, with pretty high stakes involved and I’m sure I’ll be being thrown straight into the deep end.” She sighed, feeling the sense of dread at fucking it all up sitting at the back of her mind.

“However, despite of all of that, I’d like to take the job.” She grinned. He couldn’t help but match her smile as a wave of relief washed over him. When she’d started talking about the negatives, he was sure that it was going to lead to her turning the offer down.

“Welcome to the team.” He said, holding his hand out to her for a handshake. She laughed lightly before shaking it. “We’ll have to head down tomorrow to get all this finalised and tell the guys.” The excitement shone in his eyes.

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

“That just leaves one last question, then.” He continued, wanting to keep the ball rolling.

“Hm?”

“What did you want to do about us?” He asked as he tried to maintain his usual confident bravado, at least until this conversation was over.

“Ah, yeah… about that…” She sighed. His hours out of the house had also given her a lot of time to consider what she wanted out of all this - out of him. “Matty, you are quite possibly the most egotistical and arrogant person that I’ve ever met. You are relentless when you’re right, and just as difficult when you’re wrong.” These were things that he was already well aware of, but he couldn’t help the pang of hurt in his chest at having to hear them again. “And yet, for whatever reason, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we met.” She huffed. What? “Which might be because despite the incredibly annoying traits that you possess, you also possess many redeeming ones. You’re passionate and kind and endlessly talented.” He could feel his cheeks warming slightly at her words. “You go to the ends of the earth for the people that you care for. You’re smart and funny and fuck. I don’t think I could continue ignoring my feelings for you, even if I did want to.” She admitted as she ran a hand down her face in frustration. “Even at my most blindly stubborn, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I committed to being around you more than I already am. Especially after everything that’s happened since I got here.”

He considered what she was saying carefully. “What did you want our next step to be, love?” He asked, wanting to leave the ball in her court and not push her into anything.

“I’d be keen to give a serious relationship a try if you were.” She answered bluntly. He let out a triumphant laugh. “Don’t get too cocky now that you managed to win me over.” She cautioned him, but her smile betrayed the warning in her words.

“Too late. That ship has long since sailed.” He said as he pulled her into a tight hug.

She hugged him back just as tight, glad to finally have it all out in the open. It was probably going to be a bumpy road ahead, with a million setbacks and challenges. But she was pretty excited to be facing those things with Matty by her side.

“To think, you got yourself into all this mess with a troubled musician just because you didn’t know how to reprint a t-shirt.” He scoffed as he pulled back. She could hear the joking tone in his voice, but the incessant need to correct him still bubbled to the surface.

“That is not at all what happened.” She argued.

“I’m fairly sure it is.” He nodded. “Pretty sure that I walked in there, you needed me for help with the shirts and then you begged me to hang out with you more.” He lied.

“I’m certain that you are the one who bothered me to hang out with you more.” She shot back. The smirk on his face made it pretty clear that she’d just taken the bait. Again. “Stop being such a twat.” She laughed.

“You make it way too easy.” He replied with a chuckle before leaning down to kiss her.

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #Sunsetinmyvein

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notinthemaps · 4 years

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Know before you go and what I’ve learned from traveling:

It’s not a race. I was always so bummed about the number of countries I’ve been to compared to other people my age until I understood that the number of places visited is not what traveling is about at all. It’s not important about how many places you’ve been but the depth you’ve explored them. I have been to some beautiful places all around the world that I am insanely grateful for and it’s incredibly toxic to compare my journey to others.

Traveling is an absolute privilege. Before you spew “everyone can travel, it can be done so cheap!” recognize where you come from.

Before you book that trip to Haiti or Cambodia to “go build a school” or volunteer at an orphanage, research the hidden harm that is involved with your short term stay. Your good intentions can actually be causing harm within these communities.

This also accounts for volunteering at animal and wildlife sanctuaries as well. You could unknowingly be volunteering at a place that secretly participated in “canned hunting”. So many sanctuaries have been accused of this in the past and I’m sure they’re still out there. Now, not all places are bad, just make sure your money and time are going towards something that will really help ethical animals and wildlife sanctuaries. This is where it’s important to do your research.

Clean. Get rid of shit. Simplify to the necessities. Pack light. The weight of your luggage is equally proportionate to your misery while traveling. I’ve learned this the hard way.

You have the power to choose love. Always choose to love.

Stop the exploitation of animals as you travel. Meaning the Luwak cafes in Indonesia where you drink the coffee after the Luwak has digested the coffee beans. Stop swimming with dolphins, participating in lion walks, taking photos next to chained up tigers, riding elephants, camels, and donkeys/mules. These animals are most likely not taken care of very well. There have been times where I have been guilty of giving in to attending these places because they sound great (who doesn’t want a photo with a lion next to you?) but in hindsight, these attractions are most likely incredibly unethical and there’s a lot of physical/emotional harm that is involved with the training the animals.

Reduce your use of plastic abroad.

Going alone is okay. If we all waited for someone to travel with us, we’d be waiting for a very, very long time. So, please go even if you have no one to go with. There are millions of people all over the world that are just waiting to meet you. Some of them you’ll meet in a hostel room and you’ll end up spending the night walking through the street markets, some of them you’ll meet at a bar and discover new corners of a city you didn’t know existed, some of them you’ll meet sitting on a bench at a bus stop and you’ll end up sharing the best coffee you’ve probably ever had, some of them you’ll meet watching the sunset on the beach and you’ll end up sharing stories and laughing with them until the morning and some of them will end up being your best friends. And sometimes you’re going to be alone and going on tours, to the movies, or to restaurants sounds scary to do by yourself at first but soon enough you’ll learn that it is completely okay to be alone. Solo does not mean lonely.

Don’t say you don’t like anything until you try it more than once.

Save your change.

One of the most reassuring things in this world is that you are never stuck anywhere. You are never unable to leave.

Don’t avoid taking care of your mental health when abroad. Traveling is exhausting and not always rainbows and butterflies. Your mind and body are still important.

Write about your favorite moments, your least favorite moments, ideas, people you’ve met, strangers you’ve walked past on the street, favorite quotes, words to remember, what the sky looked like at 7pm, new songs you’ve discovered and what they mean to you, places you want to go or places you’ve been, write about your passions, how you feel in this exact moment, draw out the mountains, scribble all over the pages. And when that one gets full, buy a new one. Reread it in 2 years, 20 years, when you need a good laugh, when you’re upset and can’t get out of bed, read it to your children. You need to remember these moments in your life. They are so important.

Spend less time on social media. It’s no secret that social media is addictive and it’s really good at taking away precious moments. It’s important to not be glued to your phone or laptop while abroad. Social media will always be there for you when you get home.

Traveling is overly romanticized. It is very hard work. It does not solve all the problems that you have at home. And traveling is not what it looks like on Instagram. Please don’t feel bad because your experience doesn’t feel the way that it looks like it should on Instagram.

When you’re eating, really taste your food. Talk to the locals. Immerse yourself fully into this new culture. When you’re out hiking, let go of your phone. This is how you’re going to get the best experience possible. Live in the moment.

Take photos. It is physically impossible to remember all these moments in your life. Someday down the road, maybe when you’re feeling a little depressed or bored, you can grab your camera and scroll through these photos that’ll remind you of some of the best times of your life. Ask permission before you take a photo of someone. Ask permission to post it on social media (if these are your intentions) and let them know 1,000s of people will have access or will be seeing these photos. Remember: kids can never consent. Just don’t take photos in orphanages or schools. It’s really important to be respectful. People are not props.

Usually, no one wants to hear more than a few sentences about your trip when you come home other than your mom. And the references you make months after your trip, “when I was in...” will sometimes result in an eye roll. Shake it off. I know it can be hurtful but it’s best to just keep it to a minimum for your own sanity.

It’s okay to look like a tourist. Visit the big touristy places and take your picture pushing against the Leaning Tower of Pisa. You’re not better than every other traveler just because you skipped the popular areas.

Learn the basics of the language before you go. “where’s the bathroom? how are you? what's your name? My name is..” Always remember it’s your fault for not learning the language of the country you're in, it’s never anyone else's fault for not knowing English. Keep the language barrier frustration to a minimum. Hand gestures, a smile, and patience can go a long way!

You’ll probably get sick at some point. Be prepared for it with a little first aid kit! It’s always a good idea to have insurance.

It’s important to not judge the way in which other people travel. I’ve met people who have planned their travel to the point where they do not participate in any tourist activities and live off one meal a day and then I’ve met people who pay for every excursion in every city they go to. And I find my initial thoughts to be “...but why?” and I eventually snap out of it and realize it’s not my place to judge how people travel. Everyone experiences places in their own unique, meaningful way. And I mean who really cares if someone is traveling the world full time on mom and dad's money? It doesn’t affect you.

Cheesy souvenirs are never worth it. Collect sea glass, your train tickets, plane tickets, maps, stickers, and coins. Chances are those Colosseum magnets you bought in Rome were really made in China. Support the locals if you’re going to buy souvenirs.

Slow down.

Google the tipping etiquette within the country you’re visiting before you go. Some places it’s rude, some places it’s the only income someone has. Don’t be the person who “didn’t know” when the information is a 5-second google away.

Jetlag freaking sucks but it happens to all of us.

Be prepared to be uncomfortable and be open-minded. You’ll probably wash your clothes in a bucket or sink, sleep in dirty beds or on airport floors, be forced to eat with your hands even though you’ve never done it or go without toilet paper for weeks at a time! It’s all apart of the journey.

The world is not as bad and scary as the news makes it out to be.

Nothing will ever go as you expect it to. Plans go out the door. I learned this the hard way. In fact, I am sure every traveler has learned this the hard way. You’ll miss flights, you’ll get flat tires on road trips, you’ll end up spending a lot more money than you expected, you’ll miss buses, you’ll have to run to trains to get to them on time, I promise you’ll have a dead battery when all you want to do is call mom to make you feel better, the hostel you wanted will be full, your dumb airline will lose all your luggage, things will get canceled and you’ll spend many unexpected nights crying but despite all the struggles that traveling brings upon us, it is always worth it. The tears, sore shoulders and blistered feet are always worth it. There’s no point in getting mad that your plan fell through.

We are all going to make mistakes as travelers. We have to become better researchers and better listeners. Ignoring the requests of locals or the cultural differences is absolute ignorance and another example of flaunting your privilege. Just because you are a tourist and contributing to the economy of other countries does not mean it’s okay to be disrespectful and act as you please. However, we’re going to make mistakes and it’s important to not beat yourself up over it. What’s important is how we respond. Don’t be scared to ask questions.

#traveling #me

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ask-hetaaca-southafrica · 4 years

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Infatuation

Perhaps it was weird to expect to see his crush just wandering around in the unbearably early morning, but, other than hunting down the tall kid to apologize, there was really nothing else Marick could do. Though he had arrived at camp a couple of days ago, the flight all the way from Cape Town to the island had left him jetlagged, and his sleep seemed far more like that of an old person, sleeping from dinner to sunrise.

Still, he liked the quiet of the early morning, the way everything seemed to sharpen as the sun rose. Even as a social butterfly, Marick still loved the feeling of basking in silence, feeling himself settle in his own body.

He had just been strolling aimlessly through the camp, marvelling at the animals and plants that seemed so different from home. However, now looking up at the circle of cabins that surrounded him and the blue fabric that hung from all of them, it seemed as though he had ended up at the second-year housing.

No matter how much he liked this mystery second-year though, Marick was still not one to follow the objects of his affection around. It was far too creepy for him to be comfortable with. Continuing his morning stroll, he promised himself that if he did see his fellow student, he would attempt to introduce himself.

Fortune always favours the bold. Yi-Hsuan had been lying a lot over the past few days at camp, telling whoever who asked about his feelings towards the event how exciting it was to be around everyone. Really, he wasn't any kind of enthused about going to an extended gathering of people he honestly didn't care about. Though having his own cabin set him at ease somewhat, it was also having his own cabin that left him tapping on his paired watch every few hours during the night.

He had gotten up just a little earlier today since he couldn't fall back asleep. It was only by about half an hour, but that was enough time to clear through his morning routine. Finishing up his morning movements, he raised his hands upwards and clasped his hands. There was a temptation to stretch out his exercise session since it was the only activity he expected he would enjoy for the entire day. Unsurprisingly, the team sports weren't his taste.

After a couple of seconds of deciding against picking right back up from the beginning, Yi-Hsuan didn't have much of an idea of what to do next. He had already had a snack, and going back into the cabin was a waste of the particularly pretty day and good weather. A walk sounded nice, but he didn't have a detailed enough layout in his mind of the forest to feel comfortable to go on his own with his needed mask of pacifism.

It only took a second at most for him to think of the only person he liked to be around at the camp and finally lower his arms to pull out his phone, still standing outside his cabin.

Strangely enough, despite the ungodly hour, there was still a person up and about. Marick squinted at the figure, a grin blooming on his face as he realized who exactly it was.

“Good morning!” He waved, trotting up to the mysterious second year. Hearing someone greet him, Yi-Hsuan put his phone back in his pocket. Who was that tall guy coming towards him? Racking his mind didn't turn up any answers, though it wasn't like he had many options stored in his mind to look through.

He yanked the corners of his lips up and brought up his hand to wave back. "Hello! Good morning!"

Surprisingly enough for Marick, he had gotten a friendly and energetic reply from the mystery boy, something he wasn’t quite expecting with how cranky people usually were in the morning.

“Sorry for bothering you, but I just saw you around the school lots and just wanted to say hi!” Despite his normally confident demeanour, Marick began to balk at the idea of actually speaking to his crush face-to-face, the strange silence of the forest not exactly helping his racing mind and blabbering mouth. “My name’s Marick by the way, I’m in year three.”

"I'm Yi-Hsuan from 2-C!" Outstretching his hand towards Marick, he was clearly reaching out for a handshake. "Most people just call me Yi."

Yi-Hsuan was not feeling all too happy to be speaking to some stranger from an entirely different year. "It's nice to meet you!" This third-year seemed to be the super talkative type on top of being unnecessarily vertically gifted. Looking him over, Yi-Hsuan spotted some piercings that didn't really help to add some excitement to having this conversation. But at the same time, it wasn't like this meeting would go anywhere and it wasn't like he'd see this dude again, so whatever frankly. Most people would just introduce themselves to him and leave it at that.

Shaking the other’s hand enthusiastically, Marick smiled, eyes briefly squinting and lips curling with joy. Perhaps it was time to shoot his shot. Just as his luck would have it, he had noticed a flyer for a carnival in town right before arriving at camp. The romantic side of Marick was tempted to ask Yi to go, but looking at the other’s sunny deposition, it seems like it would be hard to convince him to break the rules in such a major way.

Still, he did hear on TikTok that good girls like bad guys. Maybe he could try that theory out.

“How are you liking camp?” He asked, playing at faux-innocence. Yi-Hsuan didn't let his smile drop for even a second despite the massive urge to. Thinking of camp only stirred feelings of yearning for home and general annoyance for everything the camp was. "It's been good! Everyone's really fun to hang out with! My favorite part is the activities!" It was rehearsed through having this same conversation over and over again with others, but it wasn't like Marick knew every single chat Yi-Hsuan had ever had at the camp, so whatever really.

He brought his hands up to his chest, clasping them together. Combining it with a cheery tone, he asked whatever question came to mind first since they were only having small talk. "What about you?"

Oh. Well, if Yi liked camp that much, it would be harder for Marick to convince him to leave. Still, Marick couldn’t help but agree. The camp was pleasant enough with its friends and noises and laughter.

But it was not an ideal place for a date.

“I guess it’s cool, yeah,” Marick shrugged, eyes fixed on his crush’s smile, trying his best to not be obvious about his staring. Someone as cute as Yi was probably not unused to having admirers and Marick did not want to embarrass himself at their first meeting.

“Honestly, could they have chosen a worse time though? There’s a carnival in town now, and we have to miss it because we’re in the middle of the woods,” Crossing his arms, Marick quirked an eyebrow at Yi, a conspiratorial glint shining in his eyes. “Still, I bet we could sneak out and go together, if you wanted to?” That sounded pretty good. Within a short moment, a plan was already thought of: Yi-Hsuan would agree to Marick's offer and just get "lost" at some point; it didn't matter at when as long as he could go home. Yeah, he didn't know how to get through the forest on his own, but that was only a small setback. This was an easy way to leave, and this guy looked confident enough in his offer. Perhaps this third-year knew the way out. Why would he seem so self-assured otherwise?

Yi-Hsuan pressed his knuckles against his chin, glancing back and forth between the cabin and Marick in a hesitant manner, mouth in a stiff line. "I don't know," Dragging out the last syllable solemnly, his gaze landed on Marick. "the carnival sounds super cool, but what if we get caught? I really want to go though, honestly."

Wow! Surprisingly enough, Yi actually sounded interested in his offer. Marick grinned, his delinquent facade crumbling in his excitement. “It’s gonna be fine!” He chirped, clapping his hands together and tilting his head. “My quirk is luck, y’know? So we’re not gonna get caught, promise!”

Thoughts of a romantic carnival date flitted through Marick’s mind. He had been pining over this boy for months now, and now that camp has provided them with a perfect Hallmark-esque opportunity, he was going to make sure it was the best date Yi could ever ask for. He could even imagine the teasing faces of his family at home, making fun of him for only now asking out a boy he had been talking to them about for forever.

Still, late is better than never. That’s the way Marick looked at the world at least. He could take a few jokes on his dignity if it meant he could get to know Yi better. The change in demeanor was something strange, and candidly, Yi-Hsuan didn't fully understand what a luck quirk was, but he didn't dwell on either of those facts. There were more important things to think about. Plus, no reason to doubt Marick came up. Yeah, perhaps, maybe, definitely, Yi-Hsuan saw Marick's delinquent appearance as sort of an argument against leaving with him specifically, but it wasn't like he was going to stick around to see much more of it anyways.

"You promise?" Only a little more of this and a vacation from both this and the camp would be guaranteed--at least Yi-Hsuan was hoping so. Letting a little bit of genuine anticipation seep through, a smile appeared on his face again. "Well, if you say it's going to be fine, it'll be okay, right?" Truthfully, he wanted to fight a little more against leaving, but there was no case for it when Marick seemed so eager for whatever reason.

Marick hadn’t exactly thought that escaping the camp would be easy. Not with its facilities full of qualified faculty, each trained to take down villains far more powerful than the kids they were assigned to watch. Still, he thought his luck was supposed to kick in at some point. So when he heard the unmistakable sound of Mr.Bhatt rounding the third years up for breakfast, Marick tensed. He and Yi were not deep into the woods yet, and he had a feeling that getting caught trying to escape camp would not be a good first date. They had been following a hiking trail that led to a clearing near the edge of the forest, and it was clear that Bhatt was now on the same trail. As the sound of the teacher drew nearer, Marick froze, trying to figure out a way to escape with Yi without making too much noise and alerting the teacher. Yi’s expression twisted to one of determination as he wordlessly reached up and pulled at the air, jerking the thick branch of a lush tree down with nothing but the power of his quirk. Marick yelped as leaves brushed against his head but Bhatt passed them, nonplussed. Moments later, a phone began to ring. The science teacher picked up, a smile evident in his voice as he sauntered away, chattering to whoever had called him. Turning his gaze to Yi, Marick grinned, awe sparkling in his eyes. That was a cool quirk.

Yi-Hsuan was not having a great time. An estimate of how long this journey through the forest was updated itself every few minutes, and it had started to reach a number he was not pleased with. Though, he couldn't be sure whether it just felt long or if it actually was--out of courtesy, he hadn't brought his phone out of his pocket. There seemingly wasn't going to be a chance either to bring it out; Marick's chatter had been nonstop beyond the occasional question so there wasn't a silent break long enough to check the time. Instinct told Yi-Hsuan they were getting somewhere. They hadn't crossed any landmarks or trees he noted in his brain more than once, which was a win. All that meant in the end however was that they were wandering, which quelled Yi-Hsuan's positive outlook with the equalizing force of a loss. As much as he wanted to ask about the exact time until they'd be out, it was plain with just a thought to the path they had already taken that the third-year probably wouldn't know either. But Marick took his steps with such self-assurance, it felt like there was something to the obvious meandering. When the shadows from the overcast of the trees on Marick's face disappeared, Yi-Hsuan was surprised to find them on the edges of the forest. That was pretty lucky.

There wasn't anything else to do for a while other than mess around on his phone. Yi-Hsuan had been hiding out in the bathroom for a few minutes; if he stayed in long enough, maybe Marick would leave or go off and do something.

Almost immediately after arriving at the carnival, Yi had asked for the direction of the bathroom. Of course, Marick, being the gentleman he was, simply just bought a few snacks for them to share and waited. And waited. And waited.

It was a good day, really. The carnival was so much more than Yi-Hsuan expected in every sense of the phrase; it was larger with more space to walk than he expected, the lights and rides were extremely flashy, and there were so many items both food and toys that there was no one he could ever assume could buy them all. Every ride was better than the last, especially at night when they glowed. Though his original plan didn't work out, and he ended up spending the day with some guy he just met, for some reason, there was no sense of regret.

Marick returned to camp with a spring in his step, a big teddy bear cradled to his chest, and the cutest guy in school meandering beside him. His giddy grin refused to leave his face the rest of the night, every glimpse of Yi bringing back memories of a fun-filled day. As he went to sleep in a cold, almost-empty cabin, he could only imagine the other dates that they would go on in the future. Call him an optimist, but some gut feeling told him that everything was going to work out.

(Thank you @ask-hetaaca-chiwanan for Yi’s writing and art!!)

#aph south africa #aph taiwan #hws south africa #hws taiwan #hetalia #marick #yi #my art #other's art #summer camp event

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blakescoven · 5 years

Text

Undress Rehearsal (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Summary: You got a fashion degree and moved to DC to work as stylist assistant. Unexpectedly you meet a familiar face during a meeting and it seems there’s a spark between you two...but things may take a wrong turn.

A/N: Hey lovelies!! This is my first fic EVER, so be nice! Also, forgive any grammar mistake (English isn’t my first language). Since the ending is kinda open, I guess I could write a PART 2. I’m so happy to finally be able to post this one-shot, even though it sucks! I’d appreciate every comment/reblog/DM about it and about how I could actually improve my writing. This is a sort of experiment! I’m still trying to figure out “my style”. Oh and this is important: bold type means flashback, italics are Y/N’s thoughts and // means a few days passed! ENJOY and thank you for reading! I love you.

Warnings: mean!Duncan (just a little), making out and veeery light NSFW, plot!twist, lol I think that’s enough(?)

Word count: 6.1K

moodboard by the talented @hecohansen31

You were late again. It happened twice this week. But how could that happen? You had always been a punctual and reliable person, at night you ensured that the alarm was correctly set and you never went to bed too late, afraid to not being able to wake up the morning after. So how could it be possible? Maybe because of your jetlag, but after almost a month, well, this had become a really bad excuse. Then perhaps, the frenetic pace was already affecting you that much, making you too tired to hurry up and get ready. This couldn’t happen again; you were jeopardizing your new dream job because of this straggler behavior. While you were running along the streets of Washington DC, those were your recurring thoughts. Your wheezing and the speeded-up heartbeats, pounding in your hears, were drowning out any deafening noise coming from cars and traffic, which always filled the city driveways.

From the early hours of the day, the avenues were swarming with people going to their office, each of them withdrawn into oneself, busy minding their own business with their smartphones, bringing takeaway breakfast on the other hand. You were way too anxious and distracted from running breathlessly; you had already bumped into three stupid human beings, slowly strolling down the sidewalk like damn sloths. Every single step was followed by a quick glance at your cellphone screen, checking the time and ensuring there was no missed call of your boss.

If you knew anything in this world, it was that you had to take this job seriously, dealing with the fact that your exhausting dues would have allowed your eager ass to work your way up and finally become a fashion designer. So, you didn’t expect any great satisfaction to come very soon. And starting from the bottom was really tough. After years of studying and a well-deserved university degree, you were prepared for whatever the future might have brought. Despite that, you didn’t expect at all to end up in DC, working as a stylist assistant. Sure, this would have opened the door to your real dream job, be part of the style department, designing collections for a luxury brand. You had tried your luck moving to New York, but you ended up broke, with no savings left and no available job opening. For this reason, you decided to take that chance here. You hadn’t made any progress till now though. You were new, yes, but your tasks and assignments were hardly restricted to bring coffee or running around the Capital with tons of garment bags for upcoming fittings.

Finally, after that insane 3km rush, without even stopping for a second - no, you couldn’t afford an Uber ride every time -, you arrived. Your feet hurt like hell, your cheeks covered with scarlet shades like the worst of sunburns and your breath coming in short gasps…and your hair, oh dear Lord, it was a mess. You were sure you were also sweating. Luckily, Richard, your boss, was quite nice to you and somewhat tolerant; he was sincerely impressed by all your efforts, skills and abilities, so much that he wasn’t utterly certain what you were doing there.

Five minutes past the established hour and, thank God, the client hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t have much information or details about that meeting. You only knew that you had to help during a fitting for a client, extremely influential on the political scene. He needed a few new looks and outfits for public appearances, interviews, and fundraising events. Of course, you assumed he would have been an old middle-aged white man, with too much money to count and eager for power.

Mr moneybags is getting late tho. Too busy making grands? you thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying to look more presentable, also to not risk damaging the brand reputation.

“Y/N?”

Your calves burned and, in that moment, you thought that bringing extra sneakers would have been a good idea.

“Y/N?!”

Since the client hadn’t arrived yet, maybe you could sit down and rest for a minute on that super comfy booth near the mirror…

“Y/N!!!! HELLOO!!!” Your train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by your boss’ yells, which suddenly caught your attention.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I zoned out! Forgive me, what can I do for you?”

The man, a healthy and elegant 40ish brunette, looked at you concerned “Y/N I know it’s hard to settle down, but I need you to be 100% focused today. The man who’s coming is a big deal for us, he’s a powerful figure in Washington politics! He has recently taken her mother’s place as CEO of the family company. So, I want us to make a good impression!” after saying that, he looked at you from head to toe, a bit baffled.

“So…” he continued “…I need you to – in that moment you really hoped you were about to receive a major task, finally a turning point – ..to run to the bar across the street and buy some coffee, and come back quickly!” All your expectations fell apart in a sea of disappointment. “Hurry up!”

You put on a forced smile and went straight to the exit.

After having waited in line for centuries, you figured that probably the client had to have arrived, and therefore, just as you had started your day, you came back running as fast as you could, to save time.

You were holding the coffee cups in your left hand, while you were struggling to turn off your phone, which had started ringing. Opening the glass door with your hip, you were still trying to silence the ringtone, this, without even minding where put your feet up. Ugh, mom, stop calling me...always the worst timing! you screamed in your own mind, frowning. Before you could slow down your steps, one of your heels didn’t grip well the lacquered floor, making you stumble and trip. A sudden change in your balance and you couldn’t avoid slipping forward, causing the not-so-angelic flying of coffee directly on the special guest of the situation.

Damn it.

And to make matters worse, you fell to the ground, cursing the day you were born. Hell no, it can’t have really happened to me. You had just made a complete ass of yourself. You would have rather sink below the waves into the oblivion.

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT I-I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know h-how it happened!” you were apologizing, still keeping your eyes fixed on the once-full cups rolling down the parquet, next to your badly chipped mobile touchscreen.

“The floor must be slippery…please let me make it up to you, I ca- ” you stopped all of a sudden when you lifted your gaze, for the first time since you had stepped in. Standing in front of you there was the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, like two burning flames almost forming deep holes in your soul.

It’s hot in here or it’s just me?

He was tall and his toned arms were easily visible through the once-white shirt. Now that expensive fashion piece was all covered by a huge stain of hot coffee. And it was your fault. You were speechless. Your attention all focused on the man’s features. Your gaze was busy running down those perfect shaped cheekbones and the sharp jawline. Oh boy, gods’ gift indeed.

Oddly familiar to you though.

You clearly remained to stare for too long to not be noticed, because the man himself broke the silence.

“Uhm, don’t worry” he seemed taken aback for a second “I’ll send it to the cleaners or I’ll throw it away, I don’t care” he said, immediately composing himself, while carefully unbuttoning the ruined shirt, with those long fingers... You were blushing. His low soothing voice sent shivers down your spine. But his tone was plain, no apparent emotion, he seemed almost indifferent, maybe even a little annoyed. Ah, pompous ass.

Your attention was caught by your boss, who, with a worried voice, while pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, proposed him to choose another shirt among the others and take it as an apology gift. The man accepted, nodding with a crooked smile and with smug remarks about the needlessness of gifts for a man as rich as him.

Cocky asshole! You mused, with a roll of her eyes.

Anxious to change the subject, Richard, started the introductions. “Mr Shepherd, she is my smart – but clearly clumsy – assistant, Y/N” at that very moment that name awoke the memories in your mind.

No. It can’t be true.

“Well, nice to meet you” he remarked “Y/N”, repeating your name like he was tasting it on his own tongue “..or so.” he added, with a stupid smug grin on his breathtaking face. When they shook hands, you felt a sort of jolt and realized you had been holding your breath all this time. You remained silent.

That was the same man you met 6 months ago on the flight you took to go to New York, when you moved for the first time. It was him the influential man of the meeting.

Duncan-fucking-Shepherd.

Duncan. This name was the only thing in your mind right now, while you were lying on the couch, in your little apartment, with a glass of wine loosely resting on your lower lip. Oh my God, did he recognize me? Did he figure out it was me? How had he called me that day? Oh, his angel, right. Fuck.

Your head hurt, but you couldn’t help but keep on repeat your two first meetings again and again in your mind. The Duncan Shepherd from today was completely different, compared to the man you had encountered on that plane.

He hadn’t talked about himself very much, just spilled that he was a businessman traveling for work. You had immediately noticed how mature he was to be in his late 20ish. And incredibly handsome. And charming. And seductive.

Ok, stop.

You still couldn’t understand why you. Among all the attractive available women he could easily have, during all the time of the flight, he had been flirting with you. You. He made you feel sexy, desirable and safe, after a very long time.

It was the first class. You were there because of a lucky misunderstanding. While the plane was taking off, you two had a moment, since he saw you panicking. You had started talking for real only two hours after having left Milan. The conversation started casually, then developed into a flirty game. Little did you knew that a few hours later, you would eventually find yourselves making out so much intensely, whilst the rest of the passengers was sleeping with lights off. This wasn’t like you; you were strangers after all. Damn, you only knew his first name. But you couldn’t help your crazy attraction towards him. A sort of electricity, a particular connection that you had never felt with anybody else in your life.

You were staring off into space, completely lost in your inner thoughts, while biting hard your lip and fidgeting with the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You nervously swallowed and closed your eyes. Your hand began to move from the fabric and wander over your bare legs, brushing them with your fingertips. Throwing back your head and swallowing again, you frowned and sighed. You couldn’t make those thoughts disappear. He got under your skin and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.

His soft lips on yours, hot and peachy, the trailing of his wet open-mouthed kisses along your throat and the series of marks he was leaving on your skin, on the way down your collarbone. Feeling the smile of the other against your lips as you two kissed. The best feeling in the world. His small moans when you had pulled his lower lips between your teeth, while his hands were touching and roaming all over your body, as if he wanted to memorize each spot, each curve, each part of you. “Baby I wish it was just the two of us right now, damn, I want you so badly” he whispered. God, if they had been alone, you’d have gone further for sure. You were both turned on, you could tell, especially from the prominent bulge on his designer pants. All you wanted was to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, panting in his hear and feel his hot breath all over you. Intense was the craving to undress him, feel his skin against yours. Shit, it was like a living a dream.

The meeting had been canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow. The situation was quite unpleasant. What you were supposed to do now?

Judgment Day had come. You hadn’t slept at all, all night spent tossing and turning between the sheets and looking at the ceiling. How were you supposed to act now? Should you have mentioned anything? What was really killing you, was the feeling that ‘your moment’ had meant nothing for him. Yes, after 6 months, you had gone over it, also because you had no idea how to contact him. But after seeing him again, all the buried thrills came rushing back. You absolutely needed to test the waters today. What did you have to lose? Well, your dignity maybe. If he wanted to, Duncan could have easily said something. And of course, a man of his status could have anything, or anybody, he wanted. Maybe you were overthinking, maybe not.

Since it was almost dawn, and the sun was peeking through the blinds, creating a delicate play of lights and shadows on the curtains, you decided you could actually distract yourself choosing what to wear for the meeting. You shouldn’t have done it. Your bedroom had become a battlefield, all your clothes scattered all over it, like some lifeless leftovers of the closet, now empty. Almost like a little bomb went off. You kept trying combinations on combinations, each time taking off the pieces and throwing them away anywhere around you, as if you were on the verge of a breakdown. It was still a business meeting; you couldn’t dress up too revealing or doll up too much. But at the same time, you’d never give up on being yourself and express your personality through what you wore. Respecting yourself was the most important thing. Self-love. However, this didn’t solve the problem at all. You wanted to appear at your best, challenge him, in a subtle way.

On your way to the office, an unexpected call tuned you away from your own thoughts.

“Richard! Good morning! Are you calling me for coffee? Because I’ve already stopped off at the bar, now tell me who is the best assistant in the whole world?! And I’m not even late!” your smile vanished as soon as your boss answered.

“WHAT?! What does it mean you won’t be there today?” Your heart skipped a beat and started pumping so much blood through your veins, that you felt as a heatwave was rushing inside of you. “W-well if you have family issues, we agree that it’s necessary to postpone the gathering..I-” your eyes widened at the realization that you’d be alone. With Duncan.

You almost fainted on the spot.

“I’m sure you can handle it on your own! You can still reach me with a phone call, if you ever need me. Plus, don’t you think this would be the right chance to prove yourself and finally level up, get noticed and considered for that vacant position in the style & design dep.? My money’s on you, girl!”

How could you blame him, though? He was always so encouraging.

You sighed through the phone, so he added “Look, it won’t be hard. Remember that Mr Shepherd is in your hands. We have to turn him into one of the brand advocates; he’s young, a self-made man, the best choice to promote the brand awareness. It’s up to you now.”

Wow, that’s very reassuring you figured, shaking your head.

“Ok, you can do this, I have to go now, let me know how it goes. Bye!” Fuck.

“W-wait! I can’t do that withou-” he has already hung up. Looking up to the sky and letting out a frustrating grunt, you allowed yourself a childish whine and mumbled a ‘why me’.

Now you were standing outside the building, trying to collect yourself before entering. You were wearing an oversized see-through blouse, tucked in a black knee-length skirt, and an *accent color* blazer with rolled-up sleeves, to complete the look. You were ready to fight. No more clumsy bullshit.

Breathe, remember to breathe you reminded yourself, looking at the elevator door.

You strode next to the receptionist’s desk, Tiffany, or, as you liked to call her, ‘Crazypants’; since her eyes were always so disturbingly wide open – Does she ever blink? – and her hair painfully pinned back, so tight that must have hurt her. She seemed a cross between a barbie and a psycho killer. As soon as you walked by her desk, Crazypants greeted you overly excited, calling you with her earsplitting high-pitched voice. You put on your fakest smile and replied,

“Morning Tiff, uhm, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have work to-”

“The client is already here. He’s waiting for you in the fitting room” she winked. Hell, you hoped your blushing wasn’t so obvious, you couldn’t even have a few minutes to be psychologically prepared. Well, maybe better pull off the band-aid.

“Thank you for warning me! I’ll be right there” you answered. Not even before your exams you felt all this pressure.

Why is it always so hot?!

Walking along the hallway as if you were going to your own execution, you found yourself in front of the door of the rehearsal room. You gently opened it and entered. Do you know when, at some point in movies, there’s a slow-motion moment with background music?! There it was. Precisely. He had his back turned, gazing the skyline through the glass wall. And the second he heard the clicking of a pair of heels, he turned his head, smiling at you and looking intensely at your figure. You were about to die for real now.

How could someone be so beautiful?

His hair perfectly styled, his hot stubble,... Oh, that stubble was your weakness. You could already feel it between your legs and…

“Hey hey, easy with that” he teased with his deep honeyed voice, pointing the take-out coffee cups you were holding. You winced and giggled

“I’ll never stop apologizing about that, ehm, incident…but if you want one, go ahead!”

You looked at each other smiling for a while, until you had to break the silence and eventually get down to business. “So, I guess it’s better if we start…Mr Shepherd, so then you’ll be free to go back to work”, he exhaled and nodded

“Oh please, just call me Duncan.”

You saw a sort of shift in his features. His face went blank. He adopted a bossier and intimidating position, like last time. Ok, maybe he just wants to keep it professional, I understand.

“When is Richard coming?” he questioned while taking his trench coat off. “To be honest, it’ll just be me today, but it’s all right, you’re in good hands” you slightly smiled. He sighed again and you rose your eyebrow, taking it as an unspoken insult.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I didn’t come here to waste my time with a newbie assistant.” Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to get upset darling, this is what you are, after all” he stated shrugging. You were speechless; yes, you were an assistant, but the way he said that, as if you were a dumb zero…What an asshole.

“Oookay, since I’m here..let’s continue” he glanced at you, waiting for her next move. “I agree, you can change in the wa-” you paused; he was literally undressing in front of you.

“What? There’s nothing you’ve never seen...I guess” You were confused…was he teasing you or something? “You should be more professional, I’m saying it for you”, your rage slowly increasing and flowing throughout your entire body. He was a completely different man, with all those unnecessary mean remarks. He gave you mixed feelings. You would have punched him, but at the same time, contemplating his perfectly-shaped heavenly body, his toned muscles, his thighs..you wanted to jump on him, kiss him and be his, in every way possible.

“You’re staring.”

“W-what?! No. I’m waiting for you to finish undressing, so I can give you the first change to wear..”

“Sure.”

You’d already had enough of his attitude. “I suggest starting with this evening suit, since Richard told me you’ll attend a charity gala in a few days.”

“Hush, please, save it. I don’t need all your pointless suggestions. I can handle it by myself.” he seemed almost..angry? You didn’t know how to hit back anymore. Why was he acting like that, all of a sudden? He tried on a few different outfits while you were staying there, silent, shifting your weight from a leg to another, your eyes wandering through the room, your lips pressed into a thin line and your mind trying to figure out what was happening. Duncan, noticing the tapping of your fingers on your thigh, rolled his eyes and gave you an annoyed look.

Then he huffed “Impatient, uh?”

You were hovering on the brink of an outburst.

“Why don’t you do your job and bring me some water, or take notes, or whatever you get paid for?”

“My job is helping you find a set of appropriate clothes for various occasions, trying to create the right mix & match that suits your taste and personality...” you retorted in a plain tone.

“Oh, thanks for the not required explanation, Wikipedia..”

“..but I’m not stupid, I know what a fucking stylist does” he was pushing your buttons.

“If you’d allow me to do my job, instead of questioning me, I could recommend something..”

“No need to whine, baby girl…So do it, instead of staying there like a scared little girl.”

“If relying on someone to select your wardrobe really bothers you..why don’t you choose them by yourself?” you sassed, struggling to remain polite.

“Well, I’ve demanded the help of a professional, not that of a ‘coffee-bringer’…and I’m wasting my time here”.

Ok, that’s enough.

He was still a client, but for you being treated like that wasn’t acceptable anymore. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if I get fired after saying these words. But I’m done with your dumbass comments. You’re a douchebag. I’m trying to do my job and, just because you’re rich and influential, you think you can treat me like that. Like I’m trash?” you were finally giving in to an outburst “The saddest thing is that I really hoped you would remember me. About that moment we shared 6 months ago, on that flight to New York. But obviously, I’ve given it much thought. Turns out that I’m just one of many, aren’t I? I’ve been thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you again, it all came flooding back. I’m so stupid. It’s not your fault, I was wrong to think that day could have really meant something.”

While talking, you were struggling to hold back the tears, you weren’t supposed to look pathetic, but your eyes were already watering. “So, do me a favor: end this meeting now. I’ll call Richard and tell him to take care of you, since you do not believe I’m capable enough to fulfill your needs..”

“..oh and don’t worry about seeing me again, I don’t want anything to do with you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” you spat, entering the small wardrobe room, without bothering to switch on the light, hoping that your angry tears would have remained unnoticed in the darkness and that Duncan would have gone for good. So you started moving crutches on the clothes stand, to make room for those outfits to restock over.

Unexpectedly you felt an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. It was Duncan. He hadn’t left.

His body pressed against yours, you were paralyzed, his arms keeping a firm grip on you. What’s happening? You knew you should have pushed him back and kick him out, but something inside you decided against it. It was like a part of your dumb heart wanted to stay still in that position forever. You two remained silent, until he whispered in your hear, with his hot breath and his cologne filling your nostrils - a mixture of cinnamon, sandalwood and tobacco.

“I’m sorry..” he sighed. He sounded sincere.

“..I went too far.”

Now your own hands were resting upon his arms. You could feel the heat his body was radiating right now. With a honeyed soft tone, he murmured “Please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that having you standing here again, in front of me, stunned me. I didn’t know what to do and I misunderstood your demeanor. I thought you were pretending nothing had happened, or that you didn’t recall that day, or that you simply didn’t care.”

His hold slowly loosened, allowing you to turn around and look at him with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, without a word.

“Uhm, I’m not very good at communicating my emotions, but you’re right. I’ve been a dick. You didn’t deserve it, but I was overwhelmed by the attempt to suppress my own feelings. Since I saw you again,”

he paused,

“you are all I can think about.” he admitted, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb, but you tried to resist him,

“I hope you’re not trying to play me, because otherwise I’ll smash that stupid hot smirk to the ground.”

“So do you think I’m hot, uh?!”

“You dumbass.”

“God, you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad.” he teased, coming closer.

“What?” you giggled. He stared at your lips “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you right now…” and unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip, pulling you even closer. You inhaled deeply. You were against his warm chest, sculpted to perfection. Why must he be so perfect? You placed your hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead you left it there. You froze, from both fear and excitement.

You two stared into each other’s eyes and his breathing quickened as did yours. He slowly leaned in, so his forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes. Your faces were inches apart now, and he lightly traced your lips with one finger. His other hand placed behind your neck, shortening the distance even more.

Your noses bumped and your mouths matched up slightly-opened, breathing each other’s air directly. He brushed his lips against yours and you freaking loved it. You loved the way your body melted into his. The way your lips perfectly fitted like two puzzle pieces. The way Duncan held you tighter and tighter. It sent shivers down your back. His only desire was to touch you, to move his hands under your layers and feel your smooth skin.

You two broke the kiss for a second to catch your breath. Then he pulled you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense. Duncan lowered his hands down your hips, cupping your ass and dragging you impossibly close. You deepened the kiss swallowing his groan of pleasure as you lost into each other, no space between you two. His hands were exploring your body, while you grabbed his hair tightly to restrain your own moans.

Slowly, you started exploring each other’s mouths with your tongues. Sometimes sucking his lower lip and biting it a little bit. He started kissing your jaw and leaving hickeys on your neck. He didn’t want to let you go, so he pulled you again and kissed you so hard, with much more intensity. He squeezed you, suggesting that he wasn’t going to stop. You didn’t mind at all and continued making out.

He slowly put his hands under your blouse, trying to reach and unhook your bra, eager to run his fingers along your breasts and rub it. You began unbuttoning his button-down, seductively leaving wet kisses and love bites on his chest. He moaned. Then Duncan raised your blouse and took it off completely, so he could see you.

“You’re beautiful” he purred, and started massaging your chest and kissing it hardly, licking and biting gently your nipple. While Duncan was playing with your body, you could only keep on tugging his hair, making his moans vibrate against your body. Then he kneeled down kissing your stomach.

Both of you couldn’t silent your groans anymore, the entire room was filled by sexual noises. But you didn’t care at all. You knew where it was going. Duncan pushed you against a wall, grinding on you and you could clearly feel his hardness pressed against your body. You needed more friction.

“Jump.” he suddenly hinted, and used his veiny arms to hold you up by your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core was throbbing at that very moment.

But you were brought back to planet Earth right after; that divine feeling was ruined by a pesky thought that clouded your mind.

What if he’s just interested in sex?

He sensed your sudden slowing down. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you remained silent, he brushed his mouth against your temple,

“Or now.”

he followed the line of your cheekbone,

“Or now.”

now he was kissing your chin,

“Or—”

then your lips were against his, again. You kept undressing slowly, savoring the moment.

But that damn thought came back, stuck in your mind. And eventually it hit you. “Wait…wait” you said, trying to steady your breathing.

“What’s wrong angel? I did something wrong or..” he questioned worriedly. “No, not at all, it was perfect..but I don’t think this is right.”

“Wait what?! Why?” Duncan replied in disbelief.

“I’m not a yes girl, Duncan. I’m not looking for casual hookups, I really want to know you better and see where this leads us.” you smiled reassuringly, caressing his cheek. You were scared as fuck. Maybe he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, just random booty calls. But you had to take the risk. You wanted to.

“Uhm..yeah. I guess that sounds fair enough.” he chuckled and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How about a coffee date? I know a place, it’s quite secluded, to not attract the attention of press and journalists” you tilted your head and frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, I don’t want you to be targeted by newspapers, they aim to find some dirt on me and make every aspect of my private life public. I prefer keeping a low profile, and put you in an uncomfortable position is the last thing I would want.” “Oh, ok. I got it.” you were a little thoughtful, to be honest. But in that moment, you would have agreed with everything he was saying. You used every inch of strength you had, to stop and not go further. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You just wished to learn more about that handsome man in front of you; his desires, his passions, his values and aspirations.

“I’d better get back to work, they’ll wonder what happened to me.” he smirked. “Yeah, you better hurry up, then” you laughed, while putting your blouse on. “I’m gonna put aside the chosen clothes” you informed, but before you could leave the cramped room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in his arms, giving a last soft peck on your lips.

“How can I focus now, with the thought of you against me?!”

“You’ll have to make do with the memory..” you shot back “..for now.” you cooed, whispering in his hear.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had exchanged numbers and with all those texts you were sending to each other, you felt like a schoolgirl again. Nothing could have ruined that sensation. Before going back home, Richard called you, questioning you about the meeting, not noticing your struggle to not make disconnected sentences or beat around the bush, to hide your embarrassment. Then, to thank you for having his back, he gave you another assignment: a high-society lady had requested a selection of gowns to choose, to attend a few fundraising events. Another important add-on for your CV. A few more efforts and they would have finally offered you the long-awaited position in the creative team.

The consultation had been set up two days later, you had to go to the customer’s penthouse this time. Ugh, lazy rich people. You rang the doorbell and right after you were greeted by a thin blonde girl, all fake boobs and tinted tips, wearing a dress that seemed closer to a long top, rather than an actual dress.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Come in! I’ll be right back” she yelled. You came in holding the garment bag; you were shocked when you found out how actually big the apartment was: super modern, black & white themed and with some art hanging on the walls.

Uhm, de gustibus you muttered to yourself.

“Here I am, sorry for the waiting. I am Madison!” Why rich people seem so reluctant to share their last name with me? you mused, smiling to yourself.

“Let’s start, shall we?”

And then Madison took you to what has to be her large bedroom. Odd. That seemed more like a bachelor to you, but judging wasn’t your thing.

The fitting went smooth as silk. This Madison was a bombshell, every single dress fitted her body as it was sewn on her. For the upcoming event she chose a nude silk dress, that perfectly matched her skin tone. She looked pretty excited for the pick, so much that she started screaming and calling out loud, making you aware that there was someone else around.

“Muffin come here!!! I chose the dress!! It’s perfect oh my God! You must see it before I take it off!”

MUFFIN.

Seriously? Do not laugh, please, do not laugh.

You were biting her lip a little too hard. While Madison kept calling her…muffin, you decided to do something and began packing all the stuff back up into the bag.

“Oh finally, you walk so slow, babe…now, look! What do you think?” Before the man could answer she continued “Oh wait, how rude I am. Y/N, this is my fiancé...”

As soon as you turned around and lifted your gaze, your heart stopped beating.

“…Duncan!”

His smile soon disappeared too, replaced by a shocked and guilty expression, like a deer caught in the headlights. You froze in place.

You were trying to hold back the impending flood of tears, washing it away with your anger. A million different feelings rushed through you, but at the same time you couldn’t feel anything, just your own heart, literally breaking down in pieces.

“Do you already know each other?” Madison asked, noting Duncan’s surprise. You gathered all the strength left within you and stated

“Just one of the many customers.”

Then, lowering your broken voice, you sputtered a “Now I really have to go.”

Without saying anything more, you took the garment bag and run straight to the door, shutting it down behind your back. Right after, a teardrop rolled over your cheek, and your eyes started watering. Once that the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Before turning into a sobbing mess, you walked fast down the hallway, reaching the elevator and waiting for the doors to open up.

Before you could take another step, a large hand took you by the wrist, keeping you in place. You turned around and instantly pushed him back, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Please,” he begged,

“Let me explain. Please, I don’t want to lose you! We have something..w-we can talk about it, please, wait!”

“Go to Hell” you snapped;

and then you shoved his hand away, entering the elevator. Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. You two looked at each other one last time, shedding tears. The eyes of both soaking blatantly. And then the doors shut.

That heartbreak felt like concrete drying in your chest.

________________________________________________________________

Tagging: (I hope you don’t mind BUT tell me if you want to be removed, I was just curious to know your opinion about it, if you'd like to read it) MUCH LOVE @ladynuwanda @hecohansen31 @michael-langdon-appreciation @sojournmichael @so-langdon @stupidocupido @sammythankyou @emmyrosee

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 4 years

Text

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 66: See You on the Island

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

Isamu took out his phone and waited for it to power back up so he could check his texts, eyes carefully scanning around the interior of the I-Island airport. The plane ride in had been nice enough and he wasn’t feeling particularly jetlagged. Granted, with I-Island being mobile, he wasn’t entirely sure what time zone he was in.

But even from the air, he could tell that I-Island was an impressive place. Several of his classmates had talked about it before and the past Expos that they had attended. Pretty much any Top Ten Hero got an invitation to the Expo, as well as other prominent Heroes, though right now most of them were rather busy in lieu of the Nomu attack on Tokyo and the follow-up investigation. The attacks had also brought a lot of more minor league Villains out of the woodwork, stressing the system further.

He still got chills when he thought about it and Deku and the rest were trying to find the serpent’s den that they’d spawned from. He guessed he still had a long way to go to being a Hero.

His phone finished booting up and he saw he already had a handful of texts. A couple from Kana Tetsutetsu wishing him well. These he responded to immediately, letting her know he’d arrived safely and that he would absolutely try his best to get her Godzillo’s autograph. Though the Kaiju Hero was long retired from both heroing and acting, he was still popular and a regular guest at the Expo.

There were also a couple from his parents, with Dad telling him he was proud of him and wishing him a good time, and Mom’s in all caps telling him to be on his best behavior and that she too was proud. He fired off a couple of quick replies to let them know he’d touched down safe and could talk to them later.

And there was a group chat with messages from Midoriya, the Iida twins, and Sero. Midoriya was traveling with the Togata family and Sero was traveling with the Iidas. He smiled a little. Apparently Tensei’s argument that if Midoriya got to spend the trip with his girlfriend, then he should get to spend the trip with his boyfriend had been convincing to Iida’s parents. Of course, after a long plane ride with Sero, they might come to regret that decision…

It looked like they’d already arrived and were waiting at the hotel. Now he just needed to figure out where that was. Someone from the Expo staff was supposed to be meeting him…

Ah, there they were. A woman a few years older than him was standing holding a sign with his name on it. She was of average height, but covered in soft brown fur with vaguely raccoon-like features, including ears on the top of her head, and had a large, bushy tail that was the same blue as her hair.

“That’d be me,” he said, as he approached her, dragging his rolling luggage behind him. He had a few changes of casual clothes, a suit for the formal dinner, and his costume for some of the Expo events.

“Good to see you,” she said. Her Japanese was good, enough to make him think she was a native speaker, though I-Island drew people in from all over the world. “I’ve just got to check…” She pulled out her own phone and tapped away at it for a minute, scrutinizing the screen before eyeing him.

“Just confirming you match the picture,” she said, giving him a friendly smile. “I’m Sumire Hiwatashi, with Expo guest services. I’m here to escort you to the hotel and I’ll be on-call for any questions or needs you have for the duration of your stay.”

“Oh, ah, thanks,” he replied. “Don’t really know if I’ll need anything once I know my way around, but ah, I appreciate it.” He definitely didn’t want to impose on anyone, even if that did seem to be her job, or part of it.

“Really, it’s no problem,” she said and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Trust me, this gets me out of a whole lot of other jobs.”

“Oh,” he said. “Ah, good then?” He wasn’t sure how to react to that.

“Anyway,” she said, “if you want to follow me? We can go over the schedule on the way. As the U.A. Sports Festival winner, we do have a few events we’d like you to attend, but you’re otherwise free to go around the Expo as you please.”

He’d looked at the itinerary on the plane ride. It didn’t look too bad. They did want him to compete in the mock Villain course and there were a few other panels they wanted him at, but nothing too bad. Profile was pretty important to Heroes, though he still wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with that. Especially since so any Heroes seemed to go out of their way to cultivate their image.

He sent a quick text to Midoriya and the others that he was on his way and followed after Hiwatashi.

***

Isamu stepped off the elevator to see his friends and classmates waiting for him, all dressed in their Hero costumes, though Sero and the twins had forgone their helmets. He had his goggles on his head and bandanna pulled down himself. Midoriya gave him a friendly wave when he saw him and Isamu quickly crossed the lobby.

“Good to see you guys,” he said. “How was the trip in?”

“Great,” Sero said. He gave his boyfriend an affection elbow in the side. “Though somebody shot down by idea of sitting in the back of the plane and necking.”

Tensei Iida went several shades of red, his arms flailing through the air as he spoke. “That… that would have been highly inappropriate with my parents and sister on the plane!”

Sero sighed dramatically, burying his face in the crook of his arm. “If you don’t want to, you can just say so, you know.”

Iida continued his wild flailing. “I did not say that! I would be very happy to “neck” with you! There is no reason to put words in my mouth! I am simply seeking a sense of propriety and…”

Finally looking like he couldn’t take it anymore, Sero just laughed. “Relax, babe. I’m just winding you up. Though I’ve glad to hear you’re not opposed to a physical relationship.”

His sister broke into laughter, pointing. “Oh, oh goodness! You should have seen the look on your face, Little Brother!”

Iida crossed his arms, a grumpy look crossing his face. “It is a good thing you are adorable, or it would be much harder to be mad at you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sero said, now flailing his own arms. “Say I’m adorable again. I need to get it on video so I can send it to Kimiko.”

“Doesn’t she have enough ammunition without you giving her more?” an annoyed sounding voice asked. Isamu realized there was someone else with his friends, a blonde boy of about their age, with glasses and fingers that seemed unnaturally long and possessed of an additional joint.

“Hey man, what’s your beef with Kimmie?” Sero demanded.

“You mean other than the fact that she somehow found out about my breakup and tried shilling me to every single girl in the school?”

“She was doing you a service!”

Fortunately, Midoriya stepped in between the two. “Okay,” he said, “we’re all here to have a good time. Nobody’s arguing. And nobody’s webcasting any of this. Or Instaglaming it or Squawking it or whatever.”

“Squawking isn’t a thing anymore, Midoriya. Only old people Squawk.”

“You know what I meant, Sero.” Midoriya shook his head. “Oh! Haimawari, I don’t think you’ve met Dave? Isamu Haimwari, David Togata. Dave’s a family friend and in the Support Course.”

“Nice to meet you,” Isamu said. He recalled Lemillion mentioning his youngest during his Internship with Deku. “Your dad brags about you a lot.”

That got a laugh out of Togata, though it had an edge of long-sufferingness to it. “I’m sure he does. Dad’s kind of embarrassingly proud of all of us.”

Isamu couldn’t blame him. One kid who was Deku’s sidekick, one who was one of U.A.’s latest Big Three, and one who, given he’d made it past the first round of the Sports Festival, seemed to be a Support Course star? What dad wouldn’t be proud?

Granted, Lemillion was definitely extra proud. Always bragging about “his genius son” and his “heroic son” and his “heroic daughter.” And also his “brilliant wife” and “amazing friend” and… He’d gotten the feeling Lemillion was always extra everything, so it was hard to judge any one part of it.

“So, ah,” he said, “I’m supposed to give the Villain course a shot, but after that, we can have a big look around?” He wasn’t real sure how well that would go. These days, he was trying to mix up his fighting style, between his mobility based attacks and his long-range blasts. But both required a certain amount of space and freedom to move. Depending on how it was set up, he could be in for trouble.

“Sounds good to me,” Midoriya said. “I wanted a shot at that too!”

…Maybe he’d let Midoriya go first.

***

On second thought, Midoriya going first was a bad idea, because the other boy was damn impressive. Isamu watched as the countdown timer sounded off and Midoriya instantly sprang into action. He took one step back, something Isamu had come to recognize as what was actually a pretty glaring tell, and jumped, negating most of his gravity. Just before he impacted with the nearest robot Villain, he twisted in midair so that he impacted with the robot feet first, increasing his gravity just long enough to give the impact some power.

Then, with the kind of control that Isamu envied, he immediately negated his gravity again and pushed off, flying through the air towards the next robot like a bullet. Midoriya had once explained that he’d copied the fighting style of someone called Gran Torino, a Hero that Isamu had never even heard of. He’d done a little bit of internet searching and found that almost no one had until a few years ago when the man had passed. He’d apparently even been All Might’s mentor at one time. But there’d also been a few sparse videos, including from final battle between All Might and All for One more than two decades ago.

He could definitely see the resemblance in fighting styles.

Again and again, Midoriya bounced from robot to robot, deftly avoiding their strikes and blasts, occasionally even bouncing off the faux rock walls. He was a constant blur of red, blue, yellow, and green, never even bothering to touch the ground.

In what seemed like too little time, Toshi finally did stop, deftly landing lightly, his hair slightly standing up from the lower gravity, until weight seemed to settle on him like a cloak. He looked up and gave them all a friendly wave.

“We’ve got a new record!” the announcer declared. “Toshinori Midoriya… twelve seconds!”

“Go Toshi!” Sora Iida cheered, hands sailing through the air. “Victory is yours!”

“Whoa!” Togata said, ducking under her arms. “Careful, Iida! Arm radius! Arm radius! We talked about this!”

She dropped her arms to her sides, looking apologetic. “My apologies, Togata. I was swept up in the passion of the moment.”

“I think she should make sure to give Midoriya a victory kiss when he gets back up here,” Sero said. “Then again, he might short circuit if you did.” He made a show of considering this, finger tapping his chin. “No, wait, you should do it. I can film it.”

“Is that all you think about?” Togata asked, sounding annoyed.

“Hey, you’ve got your sciency-stuff, I’ve got fame. You don’t see me poo-pooing your gizmos and do-dads and thingamabobs.”

Togata gave Tensei Iida a flat look. “And you’re really dating this.”

Iida shrugged. “The affairs of the heart are not nearly so quantifiable as the rules of science and engineering.”

Fortunately, Midoriya’s return broke up any further discussion or potential fighting, with the green haired boy landing next to them thanks to another gravity-powered leap. Immediately, Sora Iida threw her arms around him and even planted a kiss on his cheek, leaning Midoriya to blush furiously.

“I knew you could do it!” Iida beamed. “And a new record!”

Midoriya smiled sheepishly. “Thanks,” he said, still blushing. “If that was my prize, it was definitely worth it.”

Sero clapped his hands to his mouth. “Oh. Goodness. Midoriya just tried to be smooth. I never thought I’d see it.”

“For your information, Sero,” Sora Iida said, fixing him with a glare, her hands on her hips. “Toshi is very smooth! And I will not have you speak badly of him! Do you understand?!” There was a surprising undercurrent of a threat to her words.

Sero let out a terrified yelp and jumped into his boyfriend’s arms. “I understand! I understand! Don’t hit me! And if you do hit me, not in the face!”

Midoriya just watched it with the weariness of someone to whom none of this was anything new, then turned to Isamu. “You up for it?” There wasn’t any challenge to it, no “let’s see if you can do better” or anything like that, just one friend checking in on another.

Deciding that ignoring the show going on in front of them was probably the best bet, Isamu nodded. “Bring it on.”

***

“Next up,” the announcer said, “winner of U.A.’s first year Sports Festival… Isamu Haimawari! Let’s see what kind of mark this high speed hero can make! In three.. two… one!”

On the announcer’s final word, a buzzer sounded and Isamu launched himself forward, racing towards the nearest Villain bot. They were more humanoid than the robotic Villains they typically trained with at U.A., but still larger than the average person, closer to the size of their classmate Shoji. But judging by the rounds they’d watched before Midoriya’s turn, their human shape didn’t make them any less effective.

He poured on his speed and bowled the first one over, leading it to smash itself to pieces when it came down. With more speed, he raced up the nearest wall and then onto the ceiling, stretching his left arm so that he could fire energy pulses behind him, striking several more Villain bots with rapid shots and exploding them in a shower of sparks. He completed his arc and raced down the opposite wall, executing a high speed spin and extending his legs at the bottom, taking down yet another.

The next part was trickier, he needed to get going vertical as well, with robots stationed at the different points on a fake hillside as well as several right in front of him. He didn’t have Midoriya’s gravity jumps, but…

Carefully adjusting his speed, he rocketed towards the nearest robot, came up out of his crouch, the palms of his hands hitting the robot’s torso and letting him slide his way up and over it. As soon as he was on the robot’s shoulders, he pushed off with his Quirk, unleashing a repulsion blast from all four limbs. It had the dual effect of launching him forward and also sending the robot flying... right into the others that remained at ground level!

Sailing through the air, Isamu used a couple of controlled bursts to keep himself from flying out of control and landed right in front of the next robot. He launched himself forward again, racing counter clockwise around the slope, firing pulse after pulse. When he reached the top, he quickly realized he was going too fast to break and had to apply his adhesion power.

His momentum still nearly sent him flying off and he felt for a moment like his arms were going to give way, but they held. He crouched there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, before he was able to stand. Finally, he dared to look up to see his time.

Fifteen seconds. Still pretty good, he thought.

“And Haimawari takes second place with that time!” the announcer said. “Let’s give him a big hand.”

Above, he could see the crowd cheering. But more importantly, he could see his friends cheering, louder than anyone.

Maybe he didn’t win here. But he’d given it his all. And with his friends on his side, that was enough.

***

For Melissa, returning to I-Island was always like coming home. Small wonder, really, when for much of her life, it had been home. Pretty much her entire childhood had been spent here. Even after Papa had been arrested for his part in shutting down the island’s security and attempting to steal the Quirk Enhancer, she’d been so close to graduating that she’d been allowed to stay. She’d fully expected to spend most of her life here.

But then Uncle Might had called, not long after Izuku had graduated from U.A. He was giving Izuku Might Tower, he’d said, and wanted him to have nothing less than the best, including a dedicated and in-house Support staff. Izuku was one of the youngest Pros to helm their own agency ever, but he deserved it. Even here, they’d seen his battles against Shigaraki and the League of Villains. Practically the whole world seemed to have rallied around him.

Besides, Izuku had been an old friend by that point, not to mention a former long distance boyfriend. They’d dated for a little bit during his second year of U.A., and a little into his third, even gotten to see each other in person a few times. It hadn’t gotten very far before they’d decided they were better off as just friends, and friends they’d stayed.

If she hadn’t taken that job, she’d never have met Mirio (And boy, had Ochaco been quick to suggest she date him), never had her three amazing children… No, even if she got a little homesick for I-Island or America sometimes, she was always certain she’d made the right choice. Japan had been something of an adjustment, of course. On a per population basis, they had far fewer Quirkless people than most countries, of what was already an increasingly shrinking population. Add being a foreigner on top of that and well… Some people had not been particularly nice. But that was, for the most part, long behind her. As the brains behind the top two Heroes in Japan and a multitude of sidekicks, she’d more than proven herself.

Of course, she still made it a point to return for the Expo. But this year, it wasn’t just about that. The Expo was part of why she was here, but it also served as an excellent fact finding cover.

The door to the lab recognized her badge and opened to let her inside. Good. That meant that her friend had remembered she was coming and gotten her access. She stepped inside to a myriad array of half completed robots and other mechanical projections in various states of completion. A small smile crossed her lips. Some things never changed.

“Hello?” she called out in Japanese. “Jinsei? Are you somewhere in this mess?”

Jinsei Saika looked up from a workbench in the back, pushing goggles up onto his head. He was a tall man, about her age, with numerous scars on his face that stood out sharply, many of them long and jagged-edged. His dark green hair was longer and shaggier than the last time she’d seen him. He’d probably been “too busy” for a haircut again.

“Melissa!” he called out, grinning. He coughed hard after, but his tone was friendly. She knew his vocal cords had been damaged in the same incident that had given him his scars and that the damage made speaking difficult after long periods of silence. “How’s the smartest Qurikless person I know? Aside from me, of course.”

“I’m the only Quirkless person you know besides yourself,” she shot back in equally friendly banter. They’d been friends since their Academy days, their Quirklessness something that had helped them bond. Even if things hadn’t been particularly rough here, the shared bond of lacking something so many others reveled in had made them good friends. “And besides, I know my scores were better than yours.”

“It’s good to see you,” Jinsei said, definitely not rising to the bait. “How’s the family?”

“They’re good,” Melissa replied. “Mirio’s busier than ever, of course, especially with everything that went on, but he’s positive they’ll turn up the right clues sooner or later. And the kids are all here with me. David’s doing well in the Support Course at U.A., Nejire’s ranked as one of the top three Hero Course students, and Deku says Tamaki could go solo in just a year or two if he wanted to. Of course, he likes working with Deku and being his Sidekick, so even if he did go solo, he’d probably still end up just working with him all the time anyway.”

She was definitely proud of all her children. David took after her and Papa and was already inventing amazing things. Nejire may have had some occasional issues with making common sense decisions, but she had a heart bigger than almost anyone. Melissa had met her mentor, the Laughing Man, several times, and he always spoke highly of her. Tamaki wasn’t even twenty year and already well on his way to being an incredible Hero. She owed Deku more than she could ever repay for helping her eldest achieve his dreams.

“And what about you?” she asked. “Is there anyone or…?” She trailed off, aware she was treading into awkward waters.

Jensei shook his head. “No, no, there’s just me. But I have my work. And I have my friends. That’s enough.” His eyes darted to a small desk in one corner of the lab, adorned with pictures of Jensei and a smiling woman and two smiling children, a boy and a girl, neither older than five or six.

Melissa didn’t know how he carried on. If she lost Mirio or any of the kids…

He smiled ruefully and shook his head. “But you didn’t come all this way just to catch up, now did you?”

“If only,” she replied, pulling out a small thumb drive. “Mei and I have looked the remains over from top to bottom and come up with nothing. Even the best forensic experts the HPSC can offer hasn’t been able to find any major clues. We can match the DNA the robots were wrapped in to the Nomu corpse that was stolen when it was being transferred between secure sites, but that’s about it.

“You’re probably the best robotics expert we know, Jensei. Think you can help us out?”

“Something nothing all the Heroes and their friends can figure out?” Jensei asked. There was something slightly bitter and mocking in his tone. “I guess I’d better give it my best then…”

***

“You okay there, Haimawari?”

Isamu jerked and looked up and found Tamaki Togata in front of him, tall, blond, and muscular, wearing his costume. He gave the Sidekick a smile, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, just finding this all a little overwhelming. I’ve been to a few Hero-Cons and there’s Naru-Fest back home and all, but this is all just a little overwhelming.” He gestured vaguely to the crowd around them and the different booths offering Hero merch or Support equipment. The crowd was huge, with both Pro-Heroes, Sidekicks, Support developers, and civillians.

“Plus,” he added, “they had me on a panel with some other first place finishers from some other Hero Schools. Questions from the audience, that kind of thing. Wasn’t so bad, I guess, but even with the clips they had, U.A.’s is the only televised one, so…”

“All the eyes were on you?” Togata guessed.

Isamu nodded. Sure, Midoriya and the others had been in the crowd too, so he’d been able to get at least a little bit of reassurance by looking at them when he’d started to falter, but it had still been a nerve wracking experience. They were supposed to get media training later in the year, but that hadn’t helped him now.

He’d told his friends he needed a little time to clear his head and that he’d catch up to them later. In spite of their reassurances, he still felt like he’d made a total fool of himself. Asked about strategies, he’d credited Midoriya for the Obstacle Course, and just gone with “try not to get hit” as his manta for the rest. Not exactly the most inspiring story.

“Yeah. And the second and third year winners.” There had been Hiroaki Gushiken, from 2-B, who had the Quirk Mirror, which let him reflect things back at their source, and Ahmya Amamiya from 3-C, who had the Quirk Storm, which granted her localized weather control. Both so much more impressive Quirks than his own Slide and Glide, even with the newer tricks he’d been teasing out of it.

“Not used to all the attention?” Togata asked, seemingly sensing his discomfort.

He shook his head. “Not at all. Most of the time, I try really hard not to remember I was on national TV winning one of the biggest events in the country.” He’d made peace (mostly) with the fact that he’d won, accepted that while there was certainly some element of luck to it, that speed and quick thinking had made a enough of a difference for him to claim victory. Midoriya and the rest had pounded that particular item into him well enough. There was luck, but no one was that lucky.

Well, except perhaps for the Gambler Hero: Blackjack, who could warp probabilities in his favor. But that was neither here nor there.

Togata smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, it doesn’t get much easier when you’re a Pro or a Sidekick. If anything, there’s only more eyes on you. Especially the higher up you rise.” He chuckled. “Being the Number One Sidekick to the Number One Hero, and son of the Number Two, well…”

Right! Togata had probably been dealing with that kind of exposure his whole career. Even with a relatively simple Quirk that let him enhance the density of his muscle fibers for extra strength, he’d made quite the splash, winning the Sports Festival in his own third year. Though he hadn’t made much of an impression his first year at U.A., Isamu knew that Togata had later interned under Ground Zero one year and Deku the next, immediately jumping from that to a Work Study, and a Sidekick job right out of graduation. That kind of high profile circumstances had to come with a lot of eyes.

Togata led them over to a stand selling drinks, purchasing a pair of fruit drinks in souvenir Deku glasses. Even having met the man himself, Isamu couldn’t help but feel a little fanboy thrill. Okay, a big fanboy thrill. Exclusive merch was always awesome.

“Does it get easier?” Isamu asked, once they’d found a bench to sit and talk.

Togata gave that some consideration. “Yes… and also no.” Well, that was reassuring. “You get used to it, is more like it. Fame is part and parcel of being a Hero, unless you’re one of the Underground types. Making the news, merchandise, public opinion polls, the rankings, that’s something Hero society’s never really completely gotten rid of. But it eventually starts becoming part of the background radiation, rather than the most pressing thing. But that also means you never really stop being aware of the eyes on you. …Or of trying to live up to all the expectations put on you.”

There was something odd about the way he said the last part of that, Isamu thought. But Togata didn’t elaborate.

“But you’re a first year student,” Togata went on. “Even with your accomplishments so far, you’re got a lot of time to make a name for yourself, and a lot of time to figure out exactly who you want to be.”

“I really just want to help people,” Isamu told him. “My dad says helping people is one of the best things a person can do. He missed his chance at going to a Hero school, so he found other, small ways to help people. Still does. But I think there’s a part of him that still regrets missing his big shot. And I’ve got the same Quirk as him. So if I can do something, I should. Not for the fame or anything like that, I’d rather just be known for my good deeds. Maybe inspire some other people to do good because it…”

Togata was grinning broadly at that.

“What?” Isamu asked.

“Nothing,” Togata said. “Just… what you said just now, reminds me an awful lot of Uncle Deku”

***

“Really, dahling, your talent for circumventing security systems never fails to impress.”

Crouched in the hallway, many levels down in the main laboratory building of the island, with a circuit panel open in front of her, Rei Toga gave the masked woman next to her a grin. “How else am I supposed to visit Granny? Uncle Sho’ keeps trying to up the game so I can’t get in.” She grinned wider. “He ain’t beaten me yet.”

Miss Compress shook her head. “You do love your family, don’t you, dahling?”

“Well, most of ‘em,” Rei told her, before returning back to the job at hand. I-Island security had gotten a lot smarter over the years. Parts of it were still computer controlled, but they’d also tried to subvert total take overs with manual pieces. The League’s leader had made arrangements to keep the security cameras on a loop, but accessing this particular corridor beneath the island was entirely up to them. But it didn’t take more than a few minutes to bypass the lock, the door sliding open with a hydraulic hiss.

Miss Compress offered her a complimentary tip of her hat, then pointed down the hallway with her cane. If the schedule they’d memorized was correct, they had more than a good twenty minutes before anyone would be coming.

It was just her and Compress. Overrdive was trailing the island in a boat, carefully stealth screened, but Doctor Ursa and the other members remained back in Japan. But they had more than enough skills for the job at hand. Between her talent for subverting security systems and Compress’s stagecraft, they didn’t even need their Quirks.

Of course, they’d been told not to kill anyone they didn’t have to, which was a shame. She’d just gotten her knives sharpened! What was she supposed to do, not stab people? Why did she even have knives if she wasn’t supposed to stab people with them? Cut then open, set their blood on fire with her Quirk…

Sometimes, she just did not understand their leader.

Inside, the corridor opened into a large, semi-circular chamber, the outer wall lined with… not exactly cells—No one who worked here or lived in them would call them that—but they might as well have been. She hadn’t been surprised to learn such a place existed, merely disappointed.

“I dare say,” Compress said, sucking in a breath, “I didn’t expect there to be so many…”

“Ain’t that just the way of it?” Rei said, following her inside. “A buncha years ago, the government’s lockin’ people up for havin’ ‘dangerous’ Quirks, and now people’re doing it to themselves voluntarily.”

It was, technically, true that everyone here at the I-Island Quirk Research Center was here voluntarily. Most of them had nicely appointed rooms, televisions, books and other entertainment, and full contact with their friends and loved ones. Each and every one had made the decision to come here themselves.

For some of them, for those that had come from other countries, that might even have been true. For those who came from Japan, which seemed overrepresented in the occupancy, each and every one of them had also had it “suggested” to them by the Center for Quirk Research. And not in the kind of way you turned down. It was, in theory, kinder than they days of Plague and Manticore and the like, where having a “dangerous” Quirk got you locked up in a dank cell and the key thrown away, hunted by men like her grandfather until they caught you.

Each and every person here had a Quirk that made them dangerous to the world around them in some fashion. There was one who slowly and uncontrollably released cyanide gas. There was another who constantly generated a psychic field that made everyone around them fall asleep. There was yet another who was on fire all the time.

They had come here with the promise of protecting others from themselves, with the possibility that I-Island’s research into Quirks would eventually allow them to leave and live normal lives. And some of them could have been very useful to the League’s cause, but they would never have joined them. They didn’t believe.

They were not who they were there for.

Her eyes fell on a particular nameplate.

AYUMU SETSUSHI

QUIRK: DELIRIUM

#my hero academia #their hero academia #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing #isamu haimawari #toshi midoriya #takuma sero #tensei iida (THA)#sora iida #rei toga

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goldenworldsabound · 4 years

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☕🌒🌻🍒 for anyone you'd like?? :3

oooh thank you! I’ll do some for Auron and some for Kabu! Questions here!

☕️ what are your mornings like while you’re both at home? (who wakes up first? are you morning people? coffee or tea?)

So this one for Auron! We’re both tea drinkers (do they have coffee in Spira? Maybe? either way though) for sure. Auron tends to get up early. He often goes and sits outside and just is kind of...present. It’s just a morning ritual. And then he’ll come back to bed to snuggle me/wake me fsjkhfsdjk we don’t generally have much in the way of responsibilities so there’s no real rush to get out of bed most days.

🌒 it’s far too late at night, but you or your f/o can’t sleep. looks like the both of you are awake now, restless. what do you do now? (is it cuddle time or are you getting out of bed? does sleepiness hang on or are you both wide awake?)

I will do this one with Kabu! mmm this sometimes happens with jetlag honestly. So it’s not so uncommon. It’s probably cuddle time. Depending on what’s happening the next day it feels like it would be a bad move to get up and wake up more. A lot of the time we might cuddle and read together because that can help with the sleepiness! But it’s definitely tender soft hours when sleep isn’t happening. Honestly I think both of us would rather NOT wake the other person, so we might quietly read with phone light or something, but the other person usually notices and maybe rolls over to spoon the awake person before falling asleep like that fjkhgkjfdjsk

🌻 describe what home is like for you and your f/o. (do you live together? would you like to? how do you decorate? what makes it comfortable for you both?)

For Kabu! Kabu has what I would call a condo in Motostoke, not too far from the gym. It’s on the top floor (no neighbors, he has the entire top floor) and it’s on the larger side. He has a bit more space than he knows what to do with, until I show up anyway fdkjahfsdj it’s still clearly his place since I live there inconsistently depending on when I can visit, but there’s some of my touches in the decorating since we got serious. He’s a very minimalist sort of style. Cool colored walls (shades of blueish white and grey probably) with splashes of red. A nice patterned rug here, a large decorative fan on the wall above the mantle, a clean kitchen with everything neatly organized. That’s very Kabu. He also definitely has a fireplace. He takes care of his space, and prefers to avoid clutter.

Which is moderately unfortunate because I am a very cluttered individual fhjdaskf I show up and suddenly there’s stuff everywhere (sort of joking, sort of not, traveling back and forth is kind of a whirlwind anyway). I’ve brought him back some display pieces from Johto as well (Golden actually does calligraphy writing, so it fits into Kabu’s style fairly to hang up such scrolls), plus like some goofy stuff like a mug that says, “you light my heart on fire” and has a Charmander on it.

And naturally his place has started to accrue portraits of the two of us...nothing formal, but especially when we travel together we take lots of pictures! We both print them out at our respective homes and make collages. Sometimes we keep the ones we make and sometimes we trade with each other!!! Making the collages while we’re apart is really helpful to feel connected and remember how much fun we had. <3

He comes and visits me in my home too, but that feels more like “my place” than “our place” for much longer than his condo in Motostoke.

🍒 being around another for extended periods of time tends to reveal new traits. what do you and your f/o notice about each other? (what quirks do they have? what do they realize about you? how do you help each other feel seen?)

And Auron again! Oh gosh um well I start to be able to read his emotions a lot better (I think he also starts to show them more but it’s both). He was so closed off during Yuna’s pilgrimage most of the time, so being able to recognize his changes in mood more easily felt really important. And also something Wendy was trying really hard to do ya know. He’s still not very vocal about how he likes to receive affection though. But Wendy notices quickly that he’ll often stare at her when he wants affection. He also has a tendency to follow her between rooms. He’s not very particular about where he does an activity like reading, so if Wendy is in one room he will likely be in that room too. If she leaves the room and doesn’t come soon enough, he tends to find his where to wherever she is. He’s kind of like a cat in that regard?

Hmm hmmm the kinds of things he notices...one is the difference between a real and a fake smile of mine. I don’t think he had figured that one out before, but it becomes clear as day to him. But also how I sing to myself. I don’t usually do it when I’m being conscious of the fact that he’s nearby, but as I said he tends to enter rooms I’m in to be close to me, which I don’t always notice, so sometimes he gets to hear me sing fdjsafsdj and talk to myself. Depends what I’m feeling fjdsafhjdsf. He also notices that when I want to be, I’m not nearly as clumsy as seem to be sometimes. There’s a certain focus I go into it which makes me careful and graceful all at once. He always ends up watching me during those times, because...he just thinks I’m beautiful. fjdjdsfhsd

#our happy ending #golden flames

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erasethedarkness · 5 years

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How Do I Love Thee: Into the Limelight

Ch.2: A Loan Of Trust

Click for Ch. 1: The End

Note: How Do I Love Thee? is a series that is meant to be a slow, slow burn. While ultimately a romance, readers will not find love and affection in the first few chapters- they may not even find it in the first parts, or “arcs.” The series is meant to lay down the foundation for friendships and then build on it towards romance. The reader character exists and influences this world as much as the canon characters do- therefore, the story isn’t just about the feel good moments, butterflies, and honeymoon phase- it’s about the development of the reader and her relationships.

With that in mind, I will let you all know that HDILT? will become an Aizawa x Reader x Yamada, and hope that the wait will be well worth it to those who choose to follow the series. :)

Summary: After your uncle’s funeral, you continued to help your aunt with handling his estate, seeing to it that his will was carried out. Near the end of sorting through things, you met with his lawyer to take care of what he had left for you. It wasn’t money, and it wasn’t some simple piece of property, either. What he left for you was a surprise that you didn’t know how to handle, especially with the stipulation that you had to share it with a man you didn’t even know. But… maybe he knew what he was doing better than you could speculate.

----------

In the middle of the following week, you received a call from your uncle’s lawyer to address the rest of his will. While you were planning his funeral and contacting guests on your aunt’s behalf, you read over the legal document and found one hell of a surprise. Turns out, he had something planned for you that wasn’t a portion of his fortune like he’d left the rest of the family.

“Mr. Faria is ready for you now.” The firm’s secretary approached you with a smile, then escorted you to the conference room. Behind the fogged glass, you could make out two figures sitting adjacent to each other, and heard their muffled voices and laughter. The young man knocked on the door, opened it for you when the voices faded and closed it once you stepped through.

“(Y/N), welcome! Glad you could make it so early in the day.” An older man- you’d guess late 50s- greeted you with a smile, taking your hand and giving it a firm shake before guiding you to a seat. “I imagine you’re quite a night owl with the kind of lifestyle you lead. Has it been difficult to adjust to life now that you’re back from the tour?”

You raised a brow at the lawyer’s overly friendly tone and speculation, quirking it in an unamused and subtly baffled expression as you sat down.

“Not… quite,” you answered flatly, deciding not to entertain Faria’s behavior, “Constant travel, jetlag, a seven hour time difference, and planning a funeral make it easy to adjust to waking up early.” Your words came deliberately, establishing a clear boundary from the start that was not to be crossed lightly again. Seeing the surprised expression on the older man’s face, you pressed your lips together in calm, unapologetic smile.

Just as you were about to speak, the other man in the room cleared his throat and drew both sets of eyes to him. You didn’t forget that you weren’t alone, but as a woman who was often in the public eye, you were exceedingly conscientious of the way you allowed others to treat you.

A pleasant smile- much kinder than yours at the moment- was pressed on a familiar set of lips. You’d seen them before and watched the way they moved, his words and tone at the time a clear example of his oratory skill at the funeral. This time, however, he seemed entirely different. He even looked entirely different.

“Good morning, Mr. Yamada,” you greeted with a formal address as the lawyer took a seat beside you, surrounding you with men on both sides. The one- Mr. Faria- looked proper, as a lawyer should. The other, however, was dressed in black leather and studs, looking as much a rockstar as some of the ones at your uncle’s funeral. He even sported leather fingerless gloves. Most noticeably, however, was the way he pulled back his hair. The undeniably beautiful strands that draped over his shoulders when you last saw him were slicked up and back into an almost outlandish blond plume, and the sunglasses that previously adorned them sat in front of his eyes, replaced by a set of headphones.

“Mornin’, Ms. (Y/LN),” he answered with a small yawn. It seemed like a genuinely tired one to you, and your smile fell into a more neutral and natural expression. “Mr. Faria, let’s get this started? She may be good, but I am tiiiired!”

The lawyer chuckled at Yamada’s exaggerated tone and shifted gears from being overly friendly to strictly business. On the conference table, he had documents spread out in front of you. A copy of the will sat on top of other papers- deeds, titles, city ordinances, and others you couldn’t make out at just a quick glance.

“Of course. As you both know, William was the sole proprietor of Limelight. In the case of his death, he had arranged to split that proprietorship in two- which is why you are both here.”

Finally on the topic of business, your guarded and almost standoffish demeanor dropped. The two men leaned in towards you, following the paperwork and making sure not to infringe on your space, rightfully assuming that you would not stand for it if they had. Faria went into the legal responsibilities that were involved in owning a venue like Limelight, sparing no details and pausing often to make sure you were both following.

“Now that you both understand what accepting this responsibility would entail, please decide whether or not to accept William’s last wishes,” Faria concluded as he leaned back in his seat, giving you space to lean forward and look closer at the papers. Despite pulling away from you, his leer remained, seeming to impatiently demand an immediate response.

“...Mr. Faria, could I have a moment to speak with Mr. Yamada privately?” you asked, setting down the copy of your uncle’s will and looking to the lawyer. He smiled politely and obliged your request, instructing that you have his secretary call for him when you were ready.

“You alright? Seemed like ol’ Faria was grating on you a bit.”

“Hahhh..” you scoffed quietly, looking from the door to the blond whose face was suddenly a lot closer to yours, sunglasses sloped downwards on his nose while green eyes peered at you. Arching a brow, you leaned back and scooted your seat away from his with a rock of your hips. “I’m sure he means well, but it doesn’t suit a lawyer to approach a client so whimsically when it’s their first time meeting, and the business in question centers around a recent death.”

Yamada leaned back into his seat, leaving your personal space as he pushed the white frames back up so the sunglasses sat properly once more. He yawned again, stretching and folding his arms behind his head as he relaxed, and swiveled his chair to face you. “So, what d’ya think?”

The way he asked for your opinion seemed so much less demanding than how Faria had. Your eyes lowered to the will that you picked up again, reading over the section detailing the fate of Limelight. Even though you knew he was waiting on your answer, it felt like you could actually think about it and, on top of that, be honest.

“Of course I want to go forward with these arrangements,” you answered after a pause, placing the will back down and turning in your seat to face him. Seeing the man decked out in leather was so different than seeing him in a black suit, and something about it simultaneously comforted and off-put you. “But… I’m also concerned this would mean the end of my time with RUSE if it means I won’t be able to go on tour again.”

“That’d be silly, (Y/N),” he giggled softly with a wider grin, stretching his arms again before placing his hands on his knees and leaning towards you. “Will’d never want to interfere with your musical career and you know that, don’tcha?”

You sighed, leaning your head back and pressing into the chair. His informal vernacular was so different from the eulogy he presented that you wondered for a moment if his quirk had to do with a second personality, but you doubted it. Despite the discrepancy in Yamada’s words and tone, the presence behind them didn’t change. They still felt like they came from the same person, his playfulness carrying the same je ne sais quoi as his eloquent speech.

“...But what would become of Limelight if I’m gone for over a year again?”

A still quietness settled between you two. Your eyes lowered to the unsigned paperwork as you turned your body back to the table and rested your elbow on it, chin in hand.

“Well, I think you’ll just have to trust me.” His suggestion came without that cheerful, melodic tone that accompanied the rest of his words today. He dragged his chair to sit beside you again, and leaned onto the table with his body facing you.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Yamada, but I’ve only just met you,” you answered the suggestion with polite detachment, “This is the first time we’ve exchanged words, and the second time we’ve really even seen each other. Trust doesn’t just happen like that.”

“Then consider it a loan of trust until we get to know each other better as business partners. If you can trust pro heroes with your life, then surely you can manage this.”

Your brows furrowed and you tilted your head, looking to him with confusion at the relevance of his assertion. “Isn’t that a bit different?”

“How so? You’d trust me with your life, but not your uncle’s venue- which he also named me a joint owner of? I’m hurt, (Y/N),” he teased at the end with a lighthearted smile and small chortle.

Your bewildered expression sharpened, but then softened and fell into a gentle, sincere and somewhat melancholy smile. “You have a point, Mr. Yamada. I’m… sorry, I didn’t realize you were a… hero, by profession.” The way you spoke was suddenly so much more lenient and almost tender despite the words being on the more formal side. Embarrassment in forgetting that he, too, was listed as an equal proprietor and not knowing- or even guessing- that he was a hero seeped onto your cheeks in a refined, but present blush.

Without missing the opportunity, Yamada brought his hand to his chest, flattening his fingers against his jacket with an exaggerated gasp.

“What? You mean to tell me that you’ve never heard of the amazing voice hero? The one and only Present Mic?! I’m- I’m flabbergasted!”

For the first time, your smile grew and you looked away with the smallest laugh. “I’m sorry! I’ve- uh, I’ve been gone for so long,” you offered as a flimsy excuse. In truth, you just didn’t keep up with pro heroes. The only celebrities you were interested in were musicians and performers.

“I’ve been a pro hero for years!” he hollered, only making you giggle more with his melodramatic exclamations and wearing away at the graveness you brought into the conference room. “Don’t- oh, don’t tell me you’ve never even heard of my Friday night radio show?” Yamada lowered his sunglasses and looked at you, green eyes almost puppy-like with his eyebrows knitted together above them. “I even broadcast from Limelight and everything…” he added with a childish whine.

It wasn’t long before he lifted your spirits, engaging you in a way that no one else dared to since your return. While most people expressed their deepest sympathies, some did try to cheer you up, only their efforts felt as distasteful as Faria’s attempt when he greeted you. But Yamada’s playful sarcasm and wit struck just the right chord with you that was enough to make you laugh and become more lax with his almost endearing banter. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was part of his hero persona, or if it was part of who he really was. Just like entertainers, it wasn’t uncommon for heroes to present themselves differently when in their costumes.

Reassured by the man who started off as almost a complete stranger to you at the beginning of the day, you requested Faria’s return and continued your meeting on Limelight’s future and ownership. With due respect and courtesy, Yamada followed your lead and placed his signatures beneath yours on each form, and within half an hour of making you genuinely laugh for the first time in over a week, concluded the meeting with a solid handshake and smile at you. Faria gave each of you a copy of the signed documents, keeping the original on file at his firm should you need to revisit them and make any changes. With business concluded, you left the office in a much better mood than you started with, and it was obvious to you that it was because of your new business partner walking beside you.

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grind-pantera · 5 years

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Perm Stands for Permanent. ( Joe Mazzello Oneshot.)

Hi, here is my attempt at some fluffy joe x reader,,,,,,, a a a a

Title: Perm Stands for Permanent. Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader. Words: 1684. Rating: T. ( Just fluff ) Summary: Joe is home! He’s got a perm but he won’t let you see! Chaos ensues.

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in what felt like months, and upon thought, you figured that was about right. Of course, there was FaceTime here and there, constant texting and the occasional flirting over his Instagram, but to physically see Joe, it had been quite that. Months. He’d been filming in the UK for an upcoming film, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, and while you had the chance to visit him, you didn’t take it. You figured it would just make it a more bittersweet moment when he finally did come home and take you into his arms, giving you that childish smile he was known for before diving in for a gentle kiss. There were moments when you regretted not taking him up on his offer to fly you out there, there were times when you got so lonely in your apartment that you’d find yourself wishing he was there with you to somehow cheer you up, which, you had to admit, he had a knack for. Then, your phone would buzz, reminding you that you had an unread message from Joe and things would be alright before cycling around again. And now that he was here in front of you, his familiar Yankees hat comfortable capping his head, sweats and a t-shirt, you felt like you were in a dream. It would be so easy to just run up to him and tackle him to the ground, but neither of you would have the energy to get back up after that.

You at least let him set his suitcase down in the living room, biting your bottom lip and vibrating with excitement as he finally said, “You moved the couch, just a little to the left, I swear, oh my god.” Joe groaned and threw his head back as he literally dragged his feet across the room so he was in front of you, “I leave you here alone for a few months and you decide to move all of my stuff.” There was that teasing nature in his voice, one of his hands coming up and cupping the side of your face before he finally dived down and pecked your lips. It was gentle, as you expected it to be, and a tad bit ticklish as he had grown some stubble. Resting a hand on his chest as he pushed himself against you a bit harder, you chuckled against his lips and gave him a proper kiss. Full liplock, which earned you a very nice groan from Joe as he shut his eyes and pulled away before things got too heated. But then again, he wouldn’t have minded. It had been months since he was able to hold you, touch you and just enjoy all the affections that came with your relationship. “I guess I can forgive you for messing with all my stuff.”

“It’s not just yours anymore, some of it is mine.” It was your turn to be foolish, the hand on his chest rubbing lightly as your eyes flickered into his playfully. “C’mon, take your hat off, stay a while. You’re acting like you’ve never been here before.”

“I’m basically a new man,” He held out his hands and gave you a comical twirl, “Do I not look any different? I’m pretty much evolved into John Deacon, right?”

You bit your bottom lip once more and whispered quietly, “I mean, he’s hot.” The look Joe gave you was absolutely priceless; he deadpanned momentarily before it curled into a grin around the corners of his mouth. “But, I don’t think he’s going to run around wearing a Yankees hate, baby. C’mon,” Whining, you leaned against him, “Take your hat off, I want to see that sexy hair of yours.”

“You do know, I’m not wearing the long John Deacon wig, right? You’re not thinking of that hair?” Joe drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled on it a bit. “That super sexy,” He held his hands up by his chest, “long, pullable hair?”

You weren’t going to deny that the wig he was referring to looked amazing on him, but, that was for another time. “No,” Joe pouted which caused a giggle to erupt from your mouth, “I want to see your short, kind of gingery hair, even if you have hat hair.”

“I’m going to have serious hat hair, I’ve been wearing this hat for like, two weeks straight.”

“Why’s that?” Lifting a hand, you grasped the bill of the hat and tried to pull it off but Joe was faster and put his hand on the very top to stop you.

“Well,” He tilted his head to the left and then the right. He didn’t know how to explain this to you without getting a surprised reaction. Joe knew he should have told you sooner, but, he also knew you were going to flip out at the idea that he had something drastic done to his hair. “At the time, I didn’t know what perm actually stood for---”

“Oh MY GOD YOU GOT A PERM?”

Joe moved back remarkably fast, almost body-slamming himself against the wall, “See, this is why I didn’t tell you! Perm stands for PERMANENT. I didn’t know that when I got it! Now it’s all,” He made a ‘poof’ sound and expanded his arms, “I look like a clown on crack, it is not pretty.”

“I want to see.”

He moved back a bit more, this time down the hallway. Joe was ready to run given the cue from you. “You’re gonna have to catch me----”

Joe didn’t get the chance to finish his statement as you began running towards him, resulting in a small screech from him as he jolted down the hallway, kicking the door to the bedroom open and jumping on the bed. “Please, don’t take my hat. I’ve become super attached to it, it’s like my own son!”

Throwing yourself onto the bed, you cackled and rolled onto your boyfriend as he held onto the hat with intense desperation. You had him pinned down with your body weight. “I’m going to ask you nicely, and if you say no then I’m going to be the bad cop.”

“Oh, the bad cop.” Joe raised his eyebrows at you, wiggling them just a bit as you smacked his chest playfully. “My favorite.” He was trying to change the subject. That sneaky---

“Not like that! At least, not right now.” You wiggled your eyebrows back at him, “Anyway, may I please, please take your hat off? You’re eventually going to have to, so why not do it right now?”

“Mmmmm…” Joe hummed under his breath. “Because you’re going to make fun of me right now and I’ll just wear the hat until I get a haircut and then you will never have to see the terror your boyfriend has become. See? I’ve already got it all planned out.”

“That’s it.”

“No, please! Don’t pick on the jetlagged kid!”

“Give,” You grabbed the sides of the hat that he wasn’t holding onto and tugged slightly, “me,” another tug, “the,” Another, this one a bit harder, “hat.”

“No.”

“Joseph.” You tugged, almost getting it off. “I’ll just tear it off in the middle of the night and take pictures of your hair and post them all over the internet.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Hashtag…. Cracky the clown sounds catchy, right?”

“You’re evil.”

“You made me this way.” You laughed, leaning down and pressing your lips to his slowly just so he knew that you were joking and not being serious.

“I might waiver if,” He purred and coaxed you into one more kiss, this time with a bit of tongue, “Hm….” That was murmured against your lips, “if you promise not to make fun of me. Not one peep, not one laugh or chuckle or judgmental look. ”

“I’m not going to laugh, Joe.” You did just that though, laughing quietly as you sat up straight once again, looking down at your boyfriend who was still pinned to the bed. He seemed more than okay with it. “But,” Clearing your throat, you nodded, “I promise.”

“Okay.” He exhaled, letting his fingers loosen on the hat, “you promise?”

“I prooooooomise, babe. Please, I just want to see. Who knows? I might even like it.”

“Doubtful.” The emotion that passed over his face was one of skepticism as he pulled the hat off. “Perm means permanent.” He cried theatrically and covered his face with his hands, “Why didn’t anyone TELL ME?”

“Oh… My god.” You smiled widely, looking down at what you would describe as a ball and fluff of hair that escaped the Yankees hat the moment Joe took it off.

“See, I told you! It’s so horrible. And Gwilym kept like, knocking my hat off by accident though I know it wasn’t an accident and all this hair would just,” Joe made a swoosh noise, “Come out and attack whoever was there. What a nightmare---”

“I think it’s cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and dragged a hand through his hair. It felt the same as it did before, albeit, a bit more tangly as your fingers got caught here and there. “I’m sure it looked better when your hair wasn’t grown so much, but god…” You basically purred, “Joe, you look…”

“Are you serious?” Joe gasped, shutting his eyes. “A perm, (Name)? A perm is what does it for you? A perm gets ya going? Oh m… My god, a PERM?”

Bonus ending:

You pressed your lips to his bare chest, a smile spread across your cheeks. “It’s not the perm that does it for me, you know.”

“Oh,” Joe panted softly, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you closer to his naked body under the sheets. “Really now?”

“It’s the fact that you played John Deacon and got his 80’s perm. Now I can fantasize about that.” There was crazed mischief in your voice.

“What did you fantasize before?” Joe inquired, yawning quietly. The jetlag was hitting him harder now than before when he first got home.

You smiled wickedly, “Wouldn't you like to know?”

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #bohemian rhapsody #emmy writes #fanfiction

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lonelypond · 5 years

Text

Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 4: Dropping In For Brunch

Love Live, NozoEli, NicoMaki, KanaMari, 3.2K, 4/?

Summary: Maki's in town, Eli's still out of it, Mari's not everybody's favorite person, and You and Kanan make time for a chat. Plus, Nico and Nozomi both have a severe case of Ayase on the mind.

Dropping In For Brunch

Maki Nishikino marched up to the desk. She knew her direct off the Paris runway Loewe fringed t-shirt, jeans and bucket hat screamed first class, private penthouse suite, don’t even blink when this woman is speaking to you to anyone who made a study of style and today, today, she was going to use that. The staffer at the desk looked up, adjusted her posture, lowered her eyes briefly and then Maki spoke, hand solidly connecting with the wood of the counter, “Where is Nico Yazawa? She’s expecting me.”

There was a giggle behind her, “Oh, Maki, don’t scare my employees Unless you’re actually going to accept one of my job offers.”

Maki turned, a perfunctory nod to the desk clerk. Mari Ohara stood there, slouching, amused, in a three piece white suit, long jacket, with bright black and yellow smudges scattered. Maki recognized Akiko Aoki. Not her style at all. Too flashy.

Mari winked, “Can I interest you in a suite? Or running a nightclub.”

Getting drawn into a conversation with Mari was stepping into a mire. Simple demands were best. “You can take me to Nico.”

Mari raised an eyebrow, “Oh, you’re very focused.”

Maki shrugged.

Mari sighed, clicking her tongue,“Ki Ki…one after another and we all have to cope. Your friend doesn’t understand trust.”

“I’m sure Nico is doing what she thinks is best.”

Mari turned and tossed her hand up in a gesture that brought Maki back to the Italian clubs she’d toured last year. So many cultural cues mishmashed so ruthlessly in one blonde bulldozer. Maki was too jetlagged to snap any patter or be polite so she just pulled her sling bag strap tighter and followed Mari.

###

Nozomi missed home, the way the room smelled, how the fabric of the drapes fluttered gently, but mostly she missed the comforting security as the atmosphere opened up and enveloped her. But here she was, again, somewhere else, with her oldest Tarot deck, at a new coffee shop with a different view, one of people rushing to jobs, and auditions, and brunch meetings. Was Eli one of them? Or had Eli stopped by for a taste of her past and be disappointed not to find Nozomi around...no texts since midweek, since that exchange that ended so flatly. Was Eli all right?

Nozomi sighed. Hanamaru would laugh at her and probably point out with a smirk that no matter where Nozomi took her cards, she also took her heart. Closing her eyes to let her mind open into a memory, Nozomi pictured Eli, sitting across from her, bright eyes morning dark with worry, lips a nervous line. Breathing in three times, Nozomi dealt out three cards. That was the simplest spread and one that seemed to suit Eli. Page of Pentacles...very solid, charismatic, not that Nozomi needed a reminder of Eli’s charms, what it meant would depend on what next...but its position in the past indicated that Eli might be living with the consequences of her own choices. Next card, reverse Page of Swords...Nozomi tensed...danger, confusion, difficulty communicating, powers out of your control threatening. Nozomi hurriedly flipped the third card, another pentacle, another reversal...another concerning clue...whatever was cutting into Eli, she would need patience to resolve it and to let go of the thought that there might be an ideal solution. Would Eli listen to advice? Last time....when Nozomi had offered some, Eli had abruptly ended their text chat. But Nozomi couldn’t stop remembering the last time she’d seen Eli, the eager gleam in those bright eyes when she’d announced it was ‘time for a fresh start’, the firmness of her handshake. Surely someone as careful, as grounded as Eli seemed would be relieved to be advised patience? Nozomi picked up her phone, leaving the cards out on the table, pentacles and flipped sharps staring at her as she thought back to the Five Of Pentacles she’d drawn for Eli the last time. Reach out a hand. She swept to Eli’s contact info. Maybe just a hello? To remind Eli she wasn’t alone.

###

After Eli had been distracted by the huge raw steak Mari had acquired, Nico had let Kanan talk her into sitting down for a bagel and fresh fruit and a HUGE sweet caramelly bucket sized latte shipped in from somewhere. Nico didn’t ask how or why, she just chugged the caffeine and sugar boost as she shifted in a chair, still trying to stretch out the kinks in her legs from sleeping curled up in front of the door to Eli’s room. Kanan had attempted some conversation but Nico just let the chat die, as she wondered what to do with Eli if she didn’t change back...that was too complicated, so Nico shook herself and decided fresh mango slices would be a nice bagel follow up.

“Nico?” Maki’s voice, very nervous, very tight, and as Nico glanced up from the fruit bowl, Maki started to step into the breakfast nook, then Mari, blonde and brusque and way too touchy, like all those women in the photos, took Maki’s arm and swept her into a seat. The fringe on Maki’s branded, Luxury™️ t-shirt swayed and Nico caught a glimpse of abs as toned as the arms Maki’s usual muscle tees had given her ample opportunity to view. Hadn’t Maki just flown over night? How did she look so fresh, with a hat that would look stupid on anyone else tilted at a cute and perfect angle, frowning, but her amethyst eyes still luminous...and here Nico was, hadn’t even brushed her hair, same clothes she wore last night, which Maki was taking too close a look at.

Maki shrugged off Mari, scowling over her shoulder, “Don’t touch me.”

Nico nodded in agreement, not that she needed an excuse to frown at Ms. Mari Ohara, but she added touchy around hot redheads to her growing list.

Nico finished biting into the mango slice, “You look good. How do you do that after flying all night? Nico wants to know your secrets.”

Maki’s eyes met Nico’s and then she ducked her head, flushing, “Are you all right? You look terrible.”

Confirmation Nico didn’t need, but Nico had other charms. “Nico was a hero and a human obstacle in front of Eli’s door last night.”

Mari stomped, tossing her hair back. “Hero? Che palle! She insisted on having le mani in pasta when we could have had everything under control. For one so tiny…”

“Basta, Mari.” Kanan stood, wrapping Mari up in a hug from behind that pulled her away from the table, “Let’s check on our other guest.”

Nico started a bit guiltily at that from her latte sipping, staring at Maki daydream, but Maki smiled and Nico couldn’t hear anything from the room Eli was in so maybe, just maybe, this was an actual minute she and Maki could have crisis free.

###

Nico’s voice? Eli was curled up into a tight ball on something softer than her futon mattress. Shaking, she opened an eye. Completely strange room, large brush paintings of sea scenes on the wall, a huge window leading out to a balcony with a view of the ocean. Still in Santa Monica? Eli sat up, every muscle sore, her head pounding. Naked. She grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around herself. What had happened? It was well into the day. The sun was too bright for early morning. Surely she’d heard Nico. Why was Nico here? Frowning, squinching her eyes to force memories through the painful wall of her headache, Eli searched for her last awareness. She’d been standing in front of the window in the rehearsal space, watching the sun dip closer to the rolling waves. She was itchy again, prickles pushing against her skin, distracted, two straight days of rehearsal had worn her through to weary and although Kanan still had a few things to work her through, Eli had enjoyed the challenge. It had been a rare moment of solitude, sipping tea, eating a Pryaniki from the stash she’d brought to treat herself. She’d loved the honey swirled through it...the honey had a different, sweeter tang mixed in with the Russian spices...Eli remembered thinking of her grandmother’s kitchen, then there were footsteps coming down the hall, and with a fast turn…snarling, a raw throat, the pressure headache where her brain tried to come out her forehead...Eli shook herself as a mood closed in, dangerous, blinking her eyes as she forced herself to stay in the brightness.

Eli tried out a sound, “Hello?” and her voice was a bare shadow of full volume, a scratchy mumble. A puff of s breeze was blowing curtains around and everything seemed very quiet, the roll of the ocean dominating the soundscape. What day was it? Eli didn’t see a clock or her phone.

She was going to have to get up to learn anything. Shakily, swinging her legs to the hardwood floor, sheet gathered around herself, she shuffled past to the door, cracking it open. Definitely Nico’s voice. And Maki?

Eli managed to make it through the office section and then Nico spotted her, jumping up to run and grab her in a hug that nearly knocked Eli back to horizontal, “You’re all right!”

Eli shook her head, trying not to tear up at Nico’s affection and familiar confidence. It was hard not to think Nico was here, everything would be all right, but as she glanced up to see Maki watching both of them out of the corner of her eye, one hand turning a coffee cup, the other arm crossed over her chest. Eli took an unconscious sniff of the room’s atmosphere and immediately realized Maki’s aloofness was some concern but mostly...resentment, probably at Eli interrupting their conversation. Eli couldn’t blame her, but she felt her own frustrations rise. Nico was there for her. Maki hadn’t woken up in someone else’s...Eli glanced around, taking in the art, the Turkish rugs, the fresh flowers perfuming the natural salt of the sea air, the elegance, the lived in comfort of casual affluence...someone else’s home.

“I’m a little shaky.” Eli raised her arms, bringing Nico’s attention to the blue and tan quilt patched blanket she swaddled in, “And underdressed.”

“You need to wash your face.” Maki stated sharply, swiping at the corner of her own mouth with a clenched hand.

“Oh yeah,” Nico somehow managed to make this sound like Eli had just woken up from a post pancake brunch nap, “Kanan’s wife got you a huge steak.”

Eli reddened, not wanting the quick skim of her memory to happen. Could she recall anything from last night, pull any images before waking up into daylight? Were the barriers natural or learned? Her grandmother had continually encouraged her to lock out any thoughts or urges that might originate in the non human part of her and Eli had become an expert at denying them any power over her waking awareness. She wavered, but Nico was still there.

“I’m so tired, Nico.” Yep. Crying. Eli saw Nico glance to Maki, and the redhead’s glower softened infinitesimally.

Nico was a cheerful blur of coping. “Well, Nico will tuck you back into bed, find your phone and shoes…”

Maki cleared her throat, “Maybe if Eli’s going to sleep…” she hesitated as Nico’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and the rest of her words came out in a rush, “we could get coffee or smoothies and sit in a cabana while Eli rests.” Maki frowned, then nodded, her eyes bright, “I want to talk to you, Nico,” the voice softened, and Eli tried not to start filing all the voice, body, and scent cues she was still sensitive to, “and out there, we won’t disturb Eli.”

Nico glanced back to Eli, who was rubbing her eyes, sickened by the discoloration under her fingernails. First, Eli told herself, she was scrubbing herself all over, BEFORE she looked into a mirror.

“Cover the bathroom mirror, Nico. Please. I want to wash up.” Eli slumped.

Maki stood, her voice kind, “I’ll do that while Nico finds your phone and stuff.” Resolute purple eyes met Eli’s, “We’ll be right outside. Don’t worry.”

Eli stopped a snarl. How did her life get so out of control that strangers who wanted to captivate her best friend were now patronizing her. Maki smiled encouragingly and Eli’s fists clenched, dirty nails digging into her palms, a growl rising and then Nico’s voice was a slap.

“Eli.”

Eli glanced down. Nico shook her head, a quick motion, lips pressed together in a frown. Eli closed her eyes and opened her palms.

“You’re okay,” Nico stated. “Just relax for now. You need rest.”

Eli knew that was the truth.

###

You was pacing the lobby, totally not dressed for the Ohara aesthetic in a polo and well worn nylon running shorts. She’d expected Kanan to be at their usual balcony table, but no, and after a half an hour and no response to any of her texts. You had been forced to ask the assistance of the hotel staff. And now she was waiting.

“You!” Kanan was rushing toward her, in leggings and a cropped sweatshirt, “I’m so sorry. There was an emergency last night and…”

All You’s danger tells went off and she stepped to Kanan’s side, her voice hushed, confidential, “Are you and Mari all right? What happened?”

“Let’s go outside.” Kanan led You through the lobby, to step out in view of the beach. It was either a slow day at the hotel or Mari had somehow made all the guests be occupied elsewhere. Mari had some kind of inherited hotelier hospitality magic that You thought made her more of a magical creature than many of those attending CRAAVI meetings, but it was a magic You avoided messing with. Give her the depths and shape changers and tentacled dangers, not hangry guests and thirsty vacationers.

Beach in front, pool behind, random wanderers on the wooden boardwalk, no one around the pool, easy to spot if anyone was approaching, Kanan stopped and fixed her ponytail, “I really need a run.”

“Not a swim?”

Kanan grimaced and gestured with her cast, “I’m tired of extra layers.”

You nodded sympathetically, “yeah, I bet you miss…”

Kanan cut You off, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night. There was an emergency. Eli, the dancer I’m working with…” Kanan hesitated, “became ill and then her roommate…” Kanan chuckled, gaze distant as she remembered Nico right in Mari’s face, not impressed, not backing down a centimeter.

“Sounds exciting.”

“Too exciting.” Kanan sighed and decided to drop dramatically into a chaise, “Plus, that DJ Mari’s been after forever showed up this morning. And wasn’t completely focused on Mari.” Kanan rolled her eyes, her non injured arm across her forehead, “and you know how my wife HATES not being the center of attention for all the pretty people in the room.”

“I do.” You dropped into the next chair.

“So why’d you call?”

“Check the LACryps hashtag sometime.”

You had spit sourness as she spoke. Surprised, Kanan pivoted on her hip to stare.

You kept staring at the sky, eyes nearly a matching blue, her facial expression and tone back to a carefully cultivated neutral, “Someone’s stirring up rumors, I had to warn Bo to stay off shore, but most of her group are with the whales this season. Yoshiko hasn’t heard anything yet, but she rarely dives into the internet.”

“No, that’s what she has you for. Inside information. Advance warning.” Kanan frowned, picturing Yoshiko frazzled, static electricity tightening her hair into curls, juggling her phone, brow furrowed as she kept her glamor carefully dulled, trying to organize the physical index cards she writes CRAAVI agendas on. So they can be more easily burnt when she was done with them. Yoshiko held too many secrets to live an online life. Kanan let her voice drop most of an octave, “Your godless technology burns at the touch of one who has swept the glory of Heaven’s dome with her wings.” Kanan stretched out arms, enjoying You’s amusement at the mockery, but then practical Kanan was back, “Has Hanamaru even learned to use that mini iPad you got her last year?”

You winced, “I might have seen it, next to her F L I P phone last time I stopped by. I think Yoshiko was using it as a coaster.”

Kanan blew out a long breath, “Let’s hope the fate of the world doesn’t rely too much on them.”

“Yeah.”

The waves and swooping gulls let both women exhale their worries as they sat in friendly silence.

###

The cabana was nice, Maki had to admit, with a breeze, a blueberry mango smoothie at hand, and Nico leaning in with the curtains drawn and no one watching and…

“Maki?” Nico, sounding worried.

Maki forced herself out of a fantasy, smiling, “I missed you.”

“You seemed busy.” Nico’s scrunched up grumpy face was as cute as the rest of her expressions, Maki decided, eager to catalog them all.

Maki leaned back, running both hands through her hair, hat tossed aside, remembering the relief she felt when Aya confirmed all her gigs were cancelled through the end of the month, “I was glad to be heading home…” She couldn’t say “to you” yet, they’d barely had any conversations that didn’t involve the words Eli, or cryptids, or werewolves…

“Nico could have handled Eli.” Nico sounded annoyed.

Maki sighed. There was that word. But then she glanced over and Nico was leaning even more forward, her eyes watching Maki’s fingers as they snagged on a tangle of curls. “I don’t mind.” Maki slid a finger through the condensation on her glass, “It seems like a lot though. You’re a good friend.”

Nico huffed and repeated, “Nico can handle it.”

Maki needed to make a quick detour away from the wall of exasperation she was about to SMACK into so she sat up and leaned forward, nearer to Nico, but not yet as near as she'd been dreaming about, “Want to take a walk? And get lunch?” A chuckle as Nico almost smiled so Maki dared to say what she’d been rehearsing on the drive from LAX, “I’ve been wanting to take you out since I met you.”

So much earnestness in the eyes that suddenly wouldn’t look away from hers. Nico felt her frustration and worry over Eli fade as new feelings took over, curiosity, longing, heat..the air seemed to close in, a tingle, electricity raising the hairs on Nico’s arms, wind picking up to tumble Maki’s curls with a restlessness that Nico wanted to tame, but before Nico could close the gap, a huge gust of wind slapped the curtains against her back, forcing her forward into a startled Maki as a scream arced over the roof of their cabana.

Something large splashed into the pool.

A/N: Right ho...and we merrily roll along. I am working my way back to 'Can't Get Started', but we have reached the fiddly bits of this one, where attention to detail must be paid.

Don't forget to tip your hat and say 'howdy' ; )

#NozoEli #NicoMaki #KanaMari #YohaMaru #Ayase Eli #Tojo Nozomi #nishikino maki #yazawa nico #Watanabe You #Matsuura Kanan #Ohara Mari #beach #werewolf #LA #cryptids #Moonlight Becomes You #etcétera #enjoy #Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party

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