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#almost chose being a half-foot but thought that was too easy
lemonfroq · 4 months
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felt like making a dunmeshi sona :^) i'm a tired lil gnome that loves seafood and walking mushrooms
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capslocked · 7 months
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KINKVEMBER DAY: 5
[prompt: face sitting]
male reader x ahn yujin
3.5k words
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Yujin is giving you shit when it happens.
It’s been a little over an hour since she turned to you, bored and pouty about it, and asked if you wanted to fuck again.
She gives you shit in the way only the prettiest girls can get away with. Perfect smile, like she's innocent. And all low and breathy in her throat. Hitched around the vowels of your name. Threatening enough that you thought about just immediately capitulating. It was tempting. 
"Or you could stay on the floor like a lame loser bummin’ around in your pajamas." She leans up on the arm of the sofa. "Either way."
Yujin stretches and her sweater is huge. One of those cozy campus crewnecks that everybody seems to have, oversized and inviting and right. Her shorts are ridiculously small, just enough of her stomach peeking out over her waistband for you to want to feel it, touch it, have the pleasure of sinking your tongue into the shallow groove.
She's teasing you because she never quite knows what to do with her energy. Lacks an outlet big enough, really, but is also selfishly delighted in getting any response at all, no matter how halfhearted it might be. You stare at her. You watch and don't speak when she runs her fingers up her stomach to pull her sweater up with it. You groan. She grins. She is pretty, her lips full and eyes soft. The laugh that follows her is because it's always obvious when she's won and you wish your body wasn't so prone to giving away your weaknesses.
"Hey." She blinks slowly, lifting one leg up. Her bare foot, warm, toes flexed, against your thigh, nudges against you once, and again.
"How many orgasms until I feel a little more forgiving towards my good friend who, I know, is super super sorry that he can't afford the pizza money because he chose to use his own allowance to do something as silly as pay rent, I wonder?"
"I paid half last time."
"Doesn't make sense because you ate it all.
"You said you weren't hungry." You start to object because you do have an objection. A list, actually, prepared, of instances you think you're owed. But Yujin arches, and when a separate but related complaint rises swiftly to the foreground, your throat goes dry -
"Orgasm tax."
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” she asks, and you’re struggling to answer truthfully, honestly.
She rolls over, lets you see everything she has, the tiniest shorts in the world tugged even higher, the generous curve of her ass and thighs in silhouette. You didn't ask for this but you weren’t about to die without it, you think, looking up from the floor and staring, wetting your lips, absolutely sure. She does it all on her own and it takes an absurd amount of effort to peel your hands off the ground.
"Stay where you are," she snaps, seeing it too - and in a second of deliberate slowness, hooks two fingers into her shorts, tugging them aside before looming over you. "Or you're not fucking me today. At all."
You let your head thud down against the rug beneath you. "That's not fair."
"You've gotta come up with something better than that. You could suck up, beg, maybe I'd forgive you if you just told me how much better I was than the cash I could use on literally whatever."
Your eyes cut down.
Part of you wonders if you've always been such an easy mark - whether being here has changed you, if all these months of dangling carrots in front of you are paying off or if you're just a willing accomplice to your own exploitation.
Part of you isn't stupid. Yujin's taken an almost disturbing amount of pleasure in flaunting herself since the first night you drank too much, said too much, resisted too little - you can tell the way it starts, a smile toying in the corner of her mouth, before she taps the band of her bra, waits to hear you swallow - to hear how hot you get - before she casually asks what it would take, "to convince you", to change the conversation from whether she wants something from the vending machine, or she just forgot it was laundry day, or where the hell that note from Wonyoung had gone, to what she'd like the answer to be. What would you let her do if it got you another chance to get under her shirt, see her all bared, eyes dark and hair like a veil across her collarbones, pretty nipples and swells of her breasts pushed up, until you put your mouth on her.
Yujin tilts her hips so it's easier for you to follow, her hand snaking beneath her body as she speaks. A gentle grunt gets muffled in her sweater, her toes curling into the space between your knees and it hurts, stings a little, the desire you're holding back, and then it goes right through you like fire, sharp.
(Part of you is incredibly stupid - but you think the truth is it doesn't matter.)
Yujin's kneeling over your chest, and her bottom lip, plump and lush, catches between her teeth. "Can you think of anyway to be useful?"
"A lot," you choke. It's true.
Yujin makes a noise. "Proof. Evidence. Put up."
The movement she makes - twisting of legs and stomach flexing and the fabric of her shorts down off her ankles - is one single, fluid motion and for a second you're distracted by how quickly she's gotten you there. Thighs resting over your shoulders, the only thing your lungs seem to remember how to do is want.
"Come on." She bounces her knees a bit. "Dick or mouth, get going."
You should really say something smart, show her how clever and charming you can be, how you've actually got a lot to show the hottest girl in the world - and sometimes Yujin giggles like she's shocked  about it all herself, but right now her eyebrows are raising, expectant and challenging and it makes it difficult to think when there's an open invitation inches away for you to bury yourself in. Your lips feel like sandpaper when you kiss the inside of her thigh. Her hips stutter and drop an inch as your tongue works its way out, thick and obscene and it shouldn't be so thrilling to hear her so low, so urgent when you have no say, really, in how this is going to go -
"Take care of me, yeah?" she practically whispers the words - all while your fingertips drag along her outer thighs until her spine straightens, gets her shoulders pushed back, her breathing louder, somehow, as if you couldn't feel her need without knowing already exactly what you can do for her.
And the most honest thing you could say in the moment, because Yujin has her panties stretched to the side, revealing the inviting creases where her long legs meet her hips - for god’s sake, her pussy is right fucking there, inches in front of you; glistening slightly in her own slick and looking so, so pretty - the words get kissed right into the curve of her thigh: "It's not fair."
The look she gives you makes it worth it. "Excuse me?"
"You asked, didn't you. It's not fair that your pussy's so good that I can't think about anything else."
She huffs, her thighs shaking just a little with the effort of staying put. "So, what," and your mouth closes in, kiss deep, your nose pressed in right at the peak of her folds, her entrance, and you try not to drool as you inhale and drag the flat of your tongue in, hard, where she's desperate for you, "you think this should all go in reverse or something, like I should worship your dick until you stop being a useless perv - "
But the insult dies in her throat. A moan comes out instead, harsh, deep, loud and enough that Yujin slaps her palm over her own mouth before throwing an impatient scowl down at you.
Here's what you'd tell her, if you weren't busy licking circles into the ache leaking from her core, eating her cunt like a starving man, if you had the audacity. Yujin can't control herself. Doesn't help that she's sloppy. When her orgasm hits she will get louder and she doesn't even like the things that come out. That's the thing about Yujin, really. She says all this shit, and really, in the end, she wants a good fuck so bad she can't keep her mouth shut, but the noises she makes are exactly the same as the sounds that you choke on -
Because as pretty and easy and fun to kiss as she can be, the absolute best thing about your relationship is that the more orgasms she gets the less she can breathe, much less control what the fuck she's saying to you. It's cute and hilarious and beautiful, when she forgets, when she gives everything up because in the end it's never any competition, the way she fucks, is so desperate. Her hips work themselves into your grip, over and over and over again, like they are meant for this. 
For getting off on your mouth alone.
All you know right now is that with the way you have your hands on her - one still holding her panties open and the other squeezed tight around the muscle of her outer thigh - it's like her clit's directly in line with the back of your throat. If you press your lips around her pussy and hold them firm, just like the way her knees are starting to tighten around your face, she's going to come. It will hurt her and it will leave her completely boneless, and you've fucked this much to the point where you have learned, well, she can never complain.
Not that she would. The slick dripping down your cheeks and throat and down to the front of your shirt - it's fucking everywhere - makes it obvious: any ability to talk is replaced with her just grinding her pussy against you, bucking and shouting, riding and writhing until you decide her pretty little pink slit can have another taste. 
Her only other option, really, is clenching and throbbing and cumming as hard as she can all over your waiting tongue.
"Hey. Get your fucking mouth back down," she breathes, taking her fingers out of her cunt and then promptly pushing your head back in, "and - uhnn, I - yeah, exactly. Mmmnghh - "
You smile, muffled and hot against the fabric of her thighs, her fingers twisting in the hair behind your ears and tugging firmly. "Oh."
"What did you want again?" she asks - except her body tells a different story, all flushed and keening and, fuck, absolutely soaked from your touch - she rocks against the base of your chin, slumping and dropping down and letting gravity do its work. You work your tongue over her throbbing clit, again, again, and Yujin moans loudly. So pleased.
Just this mess she's made of you. The smell that coats your nose, and chin, the way it feels when she ruts her whole body against the place where she's worked the hardest. Her breath stalls where you start to breathe in, and looking up at the cinched look in her face you press further.
It’s every little circle lick and lave and gentle nudge of the tip of your nose, where the feeling makes her cry out, where the sensation, overstimulated, is close to that perfect balance between too much and not quite enough, all while working your fingers into the swell of her ass, and finally her hips make small, greedy, selfish thrusts into your mouth.
She sobs for you. You sigh, contented, because you don't even need to ask.
"You're so fucking good," she murmurs, heel of her palm pushed into her eyes like she's struggling with a headache. "God, fuck, do that again."
It's so wet on your chin already, but you do it again, just for the way she bucks into it.
You give her the closest thing you have, your thumb riding the rim of her ass, tongue rubbing, stroking her pussy faster. Yujin's teeth work against the insides of her mouth as her hips shift forward, and she is clenching and begging for the cock you know would make her scream if you just stood her on her hands and fucked her from behind - it's such a cruel way of making her work to feel so fucking amazing - but you're here to indulge, and really, when she shivers and pleads the exact way she does, your mouth still full, how are you supposed to do anything besides fucking obey.
Yujin reaches up to grab onto the edge of the couch, anything to brace herself as her cunt sloppily gets wetter. The thickest part of your tongue is good enough for this. Everything about her clit is just this dull, swollen throb. Begging to be worked over the way you're licking at the entrance to her pussy, inside and all, kissing, sucking, kneading, pulling, - fucking her just right - until she starts fucking cursing up a storm.
"Oh god, god, oh fuck fuck, fuck," her hips shift until she's the only one riding, the only one fucking. Until you just get to lay there with your lips slack, drooling open, hands a frame for her entire body while she works your face, and nothing could be better - "yeah, oh, fuck, fuck yes - yeah - fuck, hahhh. You're going to make me fucking cum-"
And you almost say it: that's your line - it's not enough, you'll never have enough of her cunt - her clit or the slit, where she leaks, thick and sticky. Her slick tastes heavy on your tongue, and you can't swallow fast enough. Your fingers are so deep into the pliable skin of her ass - digging and needy and reaching for where she's tightest. Her hands pull sharply at your hair. You feel her, tightening her ass around your finger, cumming wet across your cheekbones and -
It goes on, her body pressing into you, until with a sudden snap of a cry, she cums.
“God, fuck-”
If Yujin doesn't have to see the look on your face after getting her off this hard, it's only because the pressure in her body has her knees across your eyes forced shut. A spasm clenches, almost rhythmic, through her thighs, and god, Yujin just cums her brains out. It's pretty hot. You make it count: pushing your fingers just as deep into her pussy, working, exploring - right as her whole body is tensing and coming apart and your other hand circles, two fingers, dipping down and through the cleft of her ass and into her tightest, hottest hole -
You know better than to rub at her entrance once the ripples and waves start - instead, it's more pressure.
Pushing up as deep as you can and your lips mouthing at her folds while her hips squirm for something harder, something stronger and with intent - like, maybe, if she thinks she is trying to push away, she will start to believe that the mess running from her hole isn't hers. It's yours. All that liquid heat pooling below her and what could ever make sense other than she needs more? She needs the way she trembles and shakes, the way her pussy weeps as you wring it for the pleasure that's well on its way -
You always feel like an idiot after, stupid with how much you enjoy this, what she gives you, but how could it be anything but fantastic, your vision dizzying when it swims from lightheadedness and the lack of oxygen to your brain. Yujin's holding you right where she needs, right between her thighs and next to perfection, just tight enough for you to groan, to make a low whine build in the back of your throat and that gets her, too.
There is the rush and a wave, the heat, of something that crests and breaks in her that has to match the absolute loss of control she seems to have all along - the only part you feel you are sure about is that Yujin always rides her cunt - all dripping lips and aching holes, swollen and flaring and practically begging to be fucked harder and more thoroughly - into every orgasm she's taken from you, until there's no where to run.
Even through your nose, and you're suffocating, her legs trembling with the rush of it all. You're gasping and shaking but she's shaking apart and you need that: to feel her melt from where her body collapses all its weight onto you and the way the aftershocks have to make it seem, at least for a moment, that she’ll never, ever recover.
"Fuck," Yujin sighs, "I fucking hate you."
(Translation: she can't fucking live without you.)
"Any time," you murmur and her entire body falls into you, straddled across your chest and slumped there, sweaty and spent. Your heart beats the moment, trying to remember when it was you could stop feeling this way about your roommate.
A part of you believes that, once upon a time, before all of this started, that your desire, your lust was rooted in seeing a friend who was beyond hot and simply unavailable.
A bigger part of you knows that asking for clarity isn't the point - because maybe, right now, in the way your hand has started massaging the soft skin under the curve of her spine, you should realize you can't live with it never happening again.
"What's my balance," you ask, rubbing your thumb into the crook behind her knee.
"Mm?"
You exhale.
"Two. I think you're good for two."
You laugh. "For real?"
She stretches.
"Or I suppose we can go for four or five, but that means you're paying for dinner, too." Yujin does this thing with her hair when she's excited. Swings it back, smiling wide.
Which is fair, you think, given the pulse between your legs throbbing and twitching as you picture it: the curve of Yujin's waist and the drop of her lower back, her bare ass. Her soaked little slit that can't help but beg to fucked and fucked and fucked, until she's trembling and quivering and leaking-
"Then I'm gonna eat," you promise her, "every last inch. Going to taste you and swallow."
Yujin shifts, sitting astride you.
You hum. "Still interested."
She simply kisses you - breathes you in - tasting herself on your lips and tongue, before leaning back with her palms flat against your chest and taking it slow as she starts to ease you into the kind of sex that doesn't leave either one of you with a throat quite so raw and dry.
So it's quiet in your apartment, just for a little while, when the afternoon starts to settle in and she rolls back onto her heels, not able to support the rest of her. You fuck her deep and it's amazing how quickly you both fall into rhythm. Yujin's clutching hard on either side of your hips. Folding herself back. Trying, by the end, to bury you where her fingers have been.
By the time she gets herself up on the couch, belly flat against the cushions and her hips arched back as she fucks herself with the length of your dick, you're just desperate. Aching in a way you know will happen any moment and even so, you can't even bring yourself to consider stopping because this is perfect - it's everything, really. To push her down, hold her still, and fuck her so thoroughly that she cries and shudders as you spill into her.
To have her.
Yujin holds a part of yourself so tender, something you have kept close for far too long, and watching her with her arm reached behind herself, clutching blindly with her fingers, as her moans go quiet with just these whimpery, little things, a thought occurs to you, of exactly how dangerous your roommate is -
Because with you fucking into her like this, this is more than sex ought to be. More than it’s ever been.
(More dangerous yet is thinking: maybe - perhaps - it is exactly what Yujin wanted, from the start.)
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navar44 · 2 years
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Candle Climbing
A bit of writing based on @aaytaro-gt ‘s Inktober prompt list.
Day 12 - Candle
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“Micah, get down from there before you hurt yourself!”
“Just a second, I almost have it!”
Micah grunted with effort as he pushed the giant box of  candles towards the edge of the shelf. Above him, by a few more inches, was the ceiling of the 10 foot tall room. He really was very high up, but he’d made it up well enough.
“Micah! God damn it- I’m getting a ladder!” Micah looked over the edge down at his house-mate, Lin. She spotted his head sticking out over the ledge of the shelf, pointing up at him sternly. “Don’t you dare try to climb down with that thing!”
“Fine, but hurry up.” He replied.
She squinted at his brushing off of her concern, but stepped away to the hallway anyway. Micah would have been fine, he had more than enough rope with him to simply lower the candles to the floor, even if it had to drop a few feet to the carpet.
She was always too worried. He’d managed just fine until she got back from work and spotted him prepping rope up top, and got all… overbearing.
Sure, she’d told him not to climb up to the top shelf. Sure, all his friends had told him not to climb up to the top shelf. Sure, everyone thought he couldn’t do it, but he could.
Admittedly, it hadn't been easy. Climbing never really was, especially in a giant’s house. But he lived here as much as she did, as much as Kyle, Lin, or Andrew did; he paid his part of the rent and cleaned and maintained where his giant house-mates couldn’t.
So why shouldn’t he be able to grab a candle from the top shelf? Kyle was hardly ever here to ask, and Lin would have trouble reaching up here even with a ladder. And he couldn’t get Andrew for obvious reasons.
That left Micah to fetch the candles. 
He sighed, leaning against the wax of the square candle he’d chosen. He chose to live here, and he’d lived with being… coddled, for lack of a better word. But it was getting irritating just being looked down on by people he was basically equals with in every other way!
“Alright, I’ve got the ladder… and a pillow.” Lin interrupted his thoughts, walking back into the room. He looked over the edge again, watching her place the pillow at the base of the large shelves. 
“Going to let me climb down, then?”
Lin crossed her arms, looking at the wall to her left. “Well… yeah, I guess. You did get up there, and you do have a ridiculous amount of string on you.” She looked up at him, half pleading. “Can I please just get you and the candles down myself though, I-”
“Nope!” Micah interrupted her, already tying lines of rope around the candle. “But you can catch me if I fall, if you’re gonna be hovering around me.”
She picked the ladder back up. “Alright. Just wait till I get back, please. And thank you.” She carried it back to the closet down the hall, leaving Micah to his knots. He finished tying up the candles by the time she returned, lowering it with his string until it came to rest on the pillow.
Micah made it safely to the floor himself despite Lin’s constant hovering and nearly plucking him off his rope as he repelled down after the box of candles. 
Micah had everything he needed for tonight now. Candles, cake, plates, silverware, and the gifts. Pizza would be ordered later.
Andrew was going to have a great birthday whether he wanted to or not!
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likeahorribledream · 3 years
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On The Run
Request: ''I had a bad dream'' with Steve Rogers. - @fangirllife98
Summary: After the incidents from Civil War, you and Steve are on the run together.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader / Nomad!Steve x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warning: Nothing triggering, I think? I suck at warnings. There isn't any physical description for the reader.
Notes at the end.
+ This is not proofread, I apologize in advance for all the mistakes you're about to see.
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Steve Rogers had been your friend since he had come out of the ice. You used to work for SHIELD but you were neither an agent or an Avenger, you worked in the medical field and you had been hired to monitor Steve’s health until he woke up and after. You spent a lot of time with him and quickly became close friends. You both have very similar personalities and it made it very easy to get along. He could spend hours talking to you about his life from before and he could listen to you for hours as you tried to explain to him everything that was new and different.
He loved that you weren’t an agent or an Avenger, it allowed him to have his own little escape from that part of his life whenever it got to be too much. You were, and still are, one of his best friends and he trusts you with his life.
When he decided to go look for Bucky, he wanted you to come with him. In case Bucky needed medical help, you were the only person he’d trust around his childhood best friend. Of course, you went with him. You had listened to Steve tell you hundreds of stories about the trouble he’d get into with his friend, Bucky was too important for him to refuse to go look for him with Steve.
You hadn’t expected to become fugitives of the law, yet here you are a year later; running and hiding with Captain America.
Steve brought Bucky to Wakanda so that he could heal and understand what exactly happened to him, when he came back the feud between him and Tony was far from being over and since he went against the Sokovia Accords, he found himself on the other side of the law and since you had helped him, you were considered an accomplice and were on the ‘’wanted’’ list next to Steve’s name. Tony could have gotten them out of it but when Steve chose Bucky over him, he decided to let him fend for himself. Steve had given you a choice; he could get you a place to live in another country where you’d be safe from the authorities or you could stay with him but that meant you would have to constantly be on the move.
You’d much rather be constantly on the move with your friend, than staying in one place in a country you didn’t know without being able to see him for who knows how long, the choice had been very simple and easy for you.
After a year, the heat had died down and it allowed you to stay in one place for longer periods of time. Steve had grown a beard and let his hair get longer, it made it harder for people to recognize him. Not a lot of people knew what you look like, but you decided to dye your hair from time to time just in case someone might recognize you.
A few days ago, you and Steve went back to New York. It’s Steve’s safe place and it’s so crowded, it makes it hard for anyone to recognize either of you. Steve had found a shady motel in a shady part of town that accepted to be paid in cash, no IDs required and no questions asked. You each had a room, a door connected them and you always left it opened just to keep an eye on each other.
It’s hard to sleep. You haven’t had a single good night of sleep since you left with Steve, you were scared that if you fell into too deep of a sleep, you wouldn’t hear if someone came for you.
Tonight is your third night in a row at this motel, you were tired of eating food from the vending machines so you decided to go get some takeouts for dinner. Steve doesn’t like when you go out on your own but it was too risky for him to go with you, that’s why you mainly ate food from vending machines. After dinner, you took showers in your respective rooms. After your shower, you put on a pair of sweats and a tank top and sat on your bed, waiting for Steve to join you to watch a movie.
‘’Come on, old man.’’ You called out towards his room.
He was taking his time and you were anxious to get the movie started.
His head poked out from his bathroom door, his hair completely drenched.
‘’That nickname wasn’t funny years ago when you used it for the first time, and it’s not funny now.’’
You laughed and pointed at your smile. ‘’Speak for yourself, I personally think it’s funny.’’
He rolled his eyes.
‘’Come on, Stevie. I’m tired.’’
Steve squinted as he looked at the alarm clock on your nightstand. ‘’It’s barely 8:30. How am I the old man here?’’
‘’You were born at the beginning of the 1900s, I was born at the end of the 1900s thus making you old.’’
‘’Well, give me 5 minutes and I’ll be right there. You can start the movie, I’ll still be able to hear it from here.’’ He told you, going back into the bathroom but leaving the door slightly opened.
You did as he said, you pressed play on the movie you had chosen earlier and sat with your back against the headboard, pillows behind you to make it more comfortable.
Five minutes later, Steve emerged from the bathroom and sat down next to you. He lifted his arm to let you snuggle up against his body and then laid it on your back, his hand resting on your hip.
Movie night always meant cuddle time.
Though you loved Steve with all of your heart and he loved you with all of his, the last few months had started to get rough for the both of you. You had never realized how much you were fond of hugs and human touch until you couldn’t do either. You came to a mutual understanding that, to keep your sanity, you would have cuddle time and it had sincerely helped better both of your moods.
Once the movie was over Steve turned off the TV, gave you a kiss on your forehead and went back to his room for the night. As soon as the lights were off, you fell asleep.
You were woken up a few hours later by something touching your foot above your covers. You quickly opened your eyes and relaxed when you saw Steve standing at the foot of your bed.
‘’What’s wrong?’’ Your voice was barely audible as you were still half asleep.
‘’I- I had a bad dream. Really bad. Can I stay with you?’’ He whispered.
You could hear how anxious he was and that woke you up. You grabbed the covers that were around your shoulders and lifted them up. Steve quickly walked around the bed and joined you, settling under the sheets. You waited until he was completely laid down and lowered the covers on top of both of your bodies.
‘’Are you ok?’’ You whispered.
You were laying on your side, facing him while he was laying on his back, looking at the ceiling. He turned his head and looked at you. His eyes were looking at every detail of your face, trying to burn this image of you into his brain so he’d never forget how beautiful you looked in this exact moment.
Steve’s had a crush on you since the first day he met you. At first he didn’t think too much of it, thinking it was just because you were the first woman he’d seen in over 70 years. Then, you two became really close friends and his feelings only got stronger throughout the years but he was going through a lot and he didn’t think it was fair of him to drag you into his problems so he decided to wait before telling you how he felt. He was finally gathering up the courage around the time Bucky resurfaced and before he knew it the two of you were on the run and he was terrified to confess his feelings to you and that you’d reject him. You two literally only had each other, he couldn’t risk ruining your friendship. Not when it was the only thing keeping the both of you completely sane.
You were both so oblivious, it was almost painful. Steve thought he’d ruin your friendship by telling you how he felt and you were keeping your very similar feelings to yourself because you didn’t think you were good enough for Steve Rogers, America’s Golden Boy. Though you tried not to let it show, you were a very insecure person and you barely felt like you were good enough to be friends with him, there’s no way he’d ever see you as girlfriend material.
‘’I don’t think I am.’’ He finally answered, whispering too.
He laid on his side to face you. It was pitch black in your room, but street lamps outside still managed to peak out from between the blinds, allowing you to see Steve’s face a little better. Whereas with his enhanced everything, Steve could see you very clearly.
‘’What do you need?’’ You asked softly.
‘’You.’’ He answered without hesitation.
You had one hand tucked under your head and you reached out to the other one, brushing your fingers against his jawline soothingly.
‘’I’m right here.’’
He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle touch on his jaw. When he opened his eyes again, he reached out over to you to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. You were so close to him that you had to tilt your head back to be able to look at him while he had to look down. You moved your hand to the back of his head and played with his hair that was still a little damp from his shower earlier.
‘’Do you want to talk about your dream?’’ You offered knowing that sometimes talking about it helped him.
He shook his head no, his eyes on you and never looking away.
‘’I don’t want to talk.’’
His hand that rested at the small of your back was now moving up to cup the side of your face, using his thumb to gently stroke your cheek.
Somehow, Steve’s face felt closer than it had a few seconds ago. Your heart started racing and you were sure he could hear it. His thumb moved down, the pad of his finger brushed over your lower lip a few times. It sent shivers down your spine. Steve leaned down a little more, his thumb going back to rest on your cheek. His eyes kept flickering between your lips and your eyes. He was ready to stop at any sign of you being uncomfortable. He gently brushed his nose against yours and when you didn’t pull away, he finally kissed you.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt your cheeks heat up. Steve didn’t leave you enough time to kiss him back, as he pulled away quickly. Your eyes opened, scared to see the regret on his face but instead all you could see was how nervous he was.
‘’Is this ok?’’
You nodded as an answer, not trusting your voice to function properly. He quickly closed the gap between the two of you, this time giving you a chance to kiss him back. Both your eyes were closed, his thumb started moving on your cheek again and your hand that was in his hair slowly slid down his neck, then his chest to finally move under his arm and rest on his back. The kiss was slow, as if Steve was afraid to hurt you, but you both could feel all the emotions and feelings that you hadn’t had the courage to confess being put into this kiss. He pulled back, just enough to give you a chance to breathe. Both the kiss and how loved you felt leaving you a little breathless.
He looked at you and waited until you opened your eyes. The look in his eyes made your breath hitched in your throat. He had so much love in his eyes that you thought your heart was going to melt in your chest. He rested his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose.
‘’You.’’ He echoed his thoughts from earlier. His voice was barely audible but he was so close that you could hear him perfectly. ‘’I just need you.’’
I am a big sucker for Nomad!Steve, look at that glorious beard!
I hope this wasn't too cringey. This was my FIRST TIME writing a kissing scene, so please be kind. I know it was probably really bad, I'm sorry!
Thank you to my dear @fangirllife98 for requesting this. I hope you liked it and that it fed your little Steve hunger for the day.
[Taglist: @n3ssm0nique | @lover-of-bucky | @beingagodsucks ]
If you want to be added to a taglist; Bucky taglist, Steve taglist, Missing Piece taglist, Blood Moon taglist or just the general taglist just let me know in the comments or DM me.
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raggaraddy · 3 years
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Sugar Daddy turned sour
Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)...Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁
A/N: I don't know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient ���� But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜
Here for Part 2
Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.
Yandere! Taehyung
Yandere! Jungkook
Sunday.  Taehyungs day.  
You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.  
“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is. 
You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.
“How was your weekend?”  He finally gets around to asking. 
“Not so good. I always have to work so much," You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.  
“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already.  And you have the same answer ready as always. 
“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention.  “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.” 
In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else.  But he doesn’t need to know that. 
While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone.  You know what's happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment. 
You open it up. Yep. That's rent for the month.  Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.  
“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t.  I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face. 
“I want to baby. I have the money, and I just want you to be happy. Don’t stress about bills okay. I’m here.” 
Sometimes, it’s almost too easy.  
“Okay Daddy, if you insist.”
Tuesday.  Jungkooks day.  
With Jungkook it’s a much more straightforward transaction.  He has said he wants to pay for you and he hates the back and forth pretences.  He just wants you to say thank you, smile pretty, and give him all your attention.  
“Do you need anything more for the week?” He asks through the camera.
“No Daddy, you take such good care of me. Thank you.” You smile. 
“You still have the weekend of the 14th off?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.  Off-screen you quickly scan through your calendar.  
14th, 15th and 16th: Jk weekend.  
Hmm, that came up quicker than you expected. You try to keep your booty calls with them as far apart as possible. 
“Of course, I’m so excited! I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You say, it been less than 100% truthful.
“Months.” He corrects with a surreptitious undertone.  
“Where are we staying this time?” 
You always insist to stay in hotels. Because ‘your apartment feels too busy and mundane, and you want the time you spend with him to be magical and undistracted’. Honestly, you just don’t want him, either of them, in your personal space. You purposefully chose boys who live a few hours away.  It’s hard enough to keep them separated in your everyday life with them being far away. It could only get messy for them to know where you live and how to reach you in person.
You’ve certainly gotten smart at this. Arranging the two men into different days of the week, scheduling them into your calendar to keep them apart and unaware of the other. Both had specifically said very early on that they do not want to share you with anyone else.  And that you were all theirs. And while both of them seemed to trust you, you knew their reactions would be unpleasant, to say the least, if they found out about the other. 
Sugar Daddies can be so possessive. 
But while both these men are very handsome, money is better and more reliable than boys. And if they are stupid enough to spend it all on you, why should you care.
The week passes quickly and it’s the 14th.  Once more you find yourself in the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Jungkook arrived in town early and sent you a message with the room number. 
Time to actually work for your money. 
You knock on the door only to find it slightly open.  Entering there is a trail of rose petals lining the floor leading into the suite. All the lights are dimmed with a warmth of candlelight filling the room. This is so typically Jungkook. Pulling out all the stops to try to impress. 
Dropping your bag at the entrance, you close the door behind you and explore inwards.  
“Daddy?” You call out in a singsong voice. Your heels clack on the tiled floor as you round the corner into the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, arms rested up over the back. You smile at seeing him. You always seem to forget just how stunning he is in person. 
“Which one of us are you referring to?” A deep voice startles you from behind. You jolt, spinning to see Taehyung standing behind you leaning against the wall.  
Holy fuck. 
Your mind starts to jumble through what is happening. Thinking about what it was that might have given you away. Evaluating how much they may know. And planning your next move.  
Damn it.  You doubt you’ll be able to smooth talk your way out of this with Jungkook. He’s too direct and absolute. So you’ll just have to accept that that relationship is over. However, you might be able to salvage this situation with Taehyung if you play your cards right. Being defensive should do the trick.
“What is this?” You snap, keeping focused on Taehyung. “This is such a violation of my privacy! You keep smothering me Taehyung! See this is why I tried to find someone else to hang out with.” You stomp your foot. He would always wrap around your finger so quickly with the little girl act. 
“Ha!” He blurts out a short laugh in contradiction to how you expected him to react. “Wow. No, go on. I want to see where this is going.” 
“Do you think we only just found out about each other?” Jungkook pipes up, coming from the couch. 
You sigh. You had almost saved enough for a holiday to the Maldives too. But they seem to know too much. Fine. You can burn both relationships. They were starting to get too clingy anyway.  “Whatever.” You roll your eyes. You got all you could from them. Time to move on to the next.
As you shrug them off, Taehyung steps into the path of the front door. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Both he and Jungkook start to close in tighter. There is a cold tone to his words. Something far too close to a threat for your comfort. Even in heels, both men naturally stand taller than you which usually wouldn’t bother you. But with an unsteadiness to your footing and a very short dress on, in a dark room with two men you have used and spurned, you are feeling even more vulnerable than you feel you should. 
“Move.” You order. 
A smirk on his lips, Taehyung lifts his hand up and backhands you, knocking you back a few stumbled steps. You gasp, your hand clinging to your cheek, eyes wide in shock. He starts forward, Jungkook intervening, standing between the two of you. 
You can not believe he just hit you! He has never done anything like that before.
“No, don’t do that.” He stops Taehyung as he starts to swing again.  Shaking all over, you’re relieved that one of them is seeing sense.  You take the outstretched hand of Jungkook, lip trembling from the burn on your cheek. He draws you closer and you wrap into him for protection. In the same motion, his free hand swings down punching you in the stomach, doubling you over, dropping you to the floor. “If you hit her head, she might get spaced out. I want her to feel this.”
His words send a chill down your spine. This can not be happening.
“Are you crazy!” You gape, trying to speak while gulping down air. Your head is dizzy, your lungs burning.  Kicking off your heels for better movement, you climb back up to your feet not wanting to engage either man. Eyes focused you look past Taehyung to the door, storming forward. “I’m leaving. We’ll forget all of this, okay.” You bargain through short, panicked breath. 
Taehyungs large hand slams you into the wall, pressing his palm against your shoulder. He follows Jungkooks lead, pounding his fist into your gut. And then again. And again.  His hold removes letting you free and you plummet to the ground, crying within broken huffs while cradling your battered torso. 
“You’re right. That is better.” He laughs at Jungkook. 
“Stop!” You beg, unable to raise your voice above a soft yelp. 
“What's wrong baby? You wanted two men. Now you have them.” Taehyungs bright smile returns to his face. This time with an entirely different meaning than it had ever had until it shifts into a straight, harsh look that you have never seen from him. “Didn't you always say you wished there was some way you could repay me?” 
“You said that to me too.” Jungkook joins his side, both hovering above you, trapping you between them, the wall, and the floor. 
Leaning down Jungkooks hand follows you as you squirm away from him. His fingers wrapped around your throat and lift you up, keeping you against the wall. He takes advantage of you being stuck, leaning into you pressing his lips to yours as you resist as much as you can. 
“Baby, you’re going to pay us back for every dollar we spent on you.” He snarls. 
Taehyung turns your face to him, also forcing a kiss on you. “Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll see that we know how to share.”  
Part 2
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afeb · 3 years
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Bucky Barnes - Salvation
long and kinda slow-burn :)
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“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.
“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.
I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.
I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.
Fuck.
Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?
“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.
“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.
“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.
“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”
I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.
“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.
Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”
I furrowed my brows. “What?”
He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”
“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.
He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”
My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”
“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.
“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.
“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.
I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.
“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.
“Nice place.” He complimented.
“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”
He nodded. “Anything special?”
I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”
“That would be...nice.” He smiled.
I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.
“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.
“You’re being very kind.” He said.
“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.
He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”
I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.
“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”
I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.
“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”
He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”
His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.
The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”
His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”
He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.
“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”
“Thank you.”
“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.
It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.
We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.
“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”
I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”
His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”
I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”
He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”
He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.
Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.
To James B -
Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N
I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.
From James B -
Hey! No worries. Heading over now.
I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.
“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.
James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”
“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.
“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.
After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.
“Done.”
“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”
James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”
“Thank you James.”
“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”
“Yeah,”
We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.
“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.
I cocked a brow. “No, you?”
“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”
I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”
“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”
“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.
“Why would you think that?” He frowned.
“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”
Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”
I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”
His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.
“I forgive you.”
Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.
“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.
“You aren’t.” I promised.
“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.
“Then do something good.”
His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.
“Please,” he mumbled against me.
“Yes.”
Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.
“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.
“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.
His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.
“There?” I nodded at his question.
His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.
“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.
“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.
“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”
I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.
“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.
“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.
“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.
“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.
I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.
“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.
I bucked my hips. “Please,”
I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.
“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.
I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“
“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.
I nodded and cried. “Yes!”
“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.
“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”
“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”
My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.
“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.
“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.
We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.
“I already...just then...” he blushed.
“Really?” I giggled.
“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.
I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”
He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”
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Text
Nobody Left Behind
Prompt: So I don't know if you're taking requests? But I just watched Lilo and Stitch for the first time since I got into TSS and I've adopted the headcanon that it is Remus's *favorite* movie (and he's memorized the script) and I love your writing and I'd love to see something angsty involving Remus feeling lonely/unloved by his brother, and maybe Lilo and Stitch is involved somehow. IDK, go wild. (and feel free to ignore this if you aren't taking requests) <3 - anon
it is Le Fluff™ hours my good bitches
Read on Ao3
Warnings: Remus has some abandonment issues, but it’s not too much
Pairings: it is platonic all the way down, babes
Word Count:  2935
Ohana means family.
 Family.
 FamILY.
 What a weird word.
Sometimes it’s the people you’re born with. Well, not ‘with,’ not necessarily, but the people you are born to. A mother, a father, a sister, a brother. Sometimes two mothers, sometimes two fathers, sometimes a different parent. Sometimes two sisters, sometimes two brothers, sometimes a different sibling. Sometimes a mess of assorted people that all share the same blood. A family.
 Remus wasn’t born.
 He was made though, crafted and shaped and born out of the swirling chaos of a child’s mind that didn’t understand the world well enough without other people to help. He remembers getting cobbled together from scraps of thoughts and feelings and morphing them into limbs, into features, into something that vaguely resembled the body of the child he was made to fit. Not the ‘fitting’ was ever his job.
 Just his brother’s.
 Is his brother his family?
 By all accounts he should be, right? A brother is one of those people that are traditionally part of the ‘family’ group, right, someone to laugh with, cry with, fight with, live with. But is Roman really his…brother?
 That’s what they decided to call themselves because nothing else worked. They weren’t really brothers, they were halves. But they weren’t really halves because there was never a whole to begin with.
 The King wasn’t a ‘whole,’ he was…well, he was the King. Half of a king is not a prince. Half of a king is not a duke.
 Half of a king is a mess of blood and bones and viscera dripping off of the end of a Morningstar in the middle of the night when only a destroyed facsimile makes the insanity bleed away just enough to breathe again.
 The closest thing to twins, is what they decided on eventually. They’re twins. One light, one dark. One that marches boldly into danger to confront the wickedness of the world, one that dwells in the shadows and cackles with the demons nipping at his heels. One that loves, one that isn’t loved.
 Sure, they had some things in common. They both loved to fight, hence the scars and the bruises and the wounds that would never, ever heal, the distrust that would never be fixed ever, because the urge to sink their teeth into each other’s necks and rip never went away. They both loved to make, Roman the peaceful lies he tells himself to make up for the gaping wounds Remus leaves as he carves his perfectly tailored destruction. They both love Disney.
 Roman’s made it part of his whole deal as the Prince, he loves Disney. He bursts into song every chance he gets, drags the others in until the Mindscape rings with joyful song and there’s nowhere left for any sadness or darkness. He takes his lessons from it, models himself using the traits of the characters he admires most. Cultivates his art of storytelling, perfect to a tee.
 Remus loves Disney too. Loves how easy it is to twist the lens to distort the image just enough to let the darker parts of the Imagination run wild. What is the real implication of never growing old, never understanding what it means to die? What kind of person curses a ten-year-old boy for being cautious about who he answers the door to? What could the story have been if the prince never comes to save the day?
 When they were smaller it was fine. When they were still getting used to the fact that they weren’t King anymore, they used to sit and watch so many Disney movies. Roman’s favorite was always changing, one week it was Beauty and the Beast, then it was Mulan, then it was Cinderella, it never stayed the same.
 Remus’s was always Lilo and Stitch.
 Roman never understood it, said it was boring, there wasn’t a prince, there wasn’t anything exciting. Remus said that aliens were plenty exciting, thank you very much.
 But they would always watch it. The King wasn’t there anymore, but the prince and the Duke were.
 …when they were smaller, there was one time where the prince wasn’t there at all.
 Remus remembers waking up one day and feeling like he was being Split all over again. The maggots in his bones reached their awful little mouths into his heart and pulled, yanking him all the way across the bed and to the door, howling and screaming for his twin.
 Only to be met with a blank wall.
 He remembers howling at the top of his lungs until Janus had rushed to his side, kneeling down next to him and telling him shh, be quiet, hush now, you’re alright, you’re not hurt. And when he couldn’t explain that he was hurt, half of him was missing, Remus needed to go find him, Janus’s mouth had hardened into a thin line and told him that there wasn’t anything to worry about.
 He remembers thinking that was a lie.
 But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a lie.
 Roman was fine.
 Roman was more than fine, because Roman had a family.
 Roman had Patton, who is the actual manifestation of sunshine and rainbows and loved so much it almost burns. The darkness that wrapped around Remus’s corner of the Imagination screeched and hissed at the very idea of being loved that much, even as part of him strained with all its might to get to it. But Patton would never set foot near this side of the Mindscape.
 Roman had Logan, who represents everything true about the Mindscape, about Thomas, about the world. The reality of things that would never let anything Remus created make it anywhere close to anything important because it was dangerous, it was hurtful, and it was wrong. Logan wouldn’t want anything to do with something so useless.
 And that was okay. Because Roman may have been gone but Remus wasn’t alone. Remus had Virgil, who lived with fear soaking every fiber of his being. Remus had Janus, who wrapped himself in darkness and obscurity and laughed.
 But then Virgil left. And now Roman had Virgil, who used Thomas’s anxieties to keep him safe, to help Roman and the others figure out what to do, how to take care of everybody, and how to make the darkness go away. And Virgil would never willingly sink himself back into the darkness when he’d spent so long clawing himself out of it.
 But that was okay, because Remus had Janus. Janus, who plotted and schemed and smirked at how easily the others were pulled along by his strings, luring them deeper and deeper as Remus readied his Morningstar for the trap to be sprung.
 But then they sprung the trap and everything went wrong.
 Roman didn’t want to fight. He just…he let Remus knock him out and didn’t show up again except to scoff and say he didn’t like him.
 And that was…wrong.
 Because Roman wasn’t supposed to like him but he was never only supposed to not like him. Roman was supposed to declare that he wasn’t welcome and try and slash him with his sword. Roman was supposed to try and banish him from the Mindscape and spit insults at him until he left, cackling all the while. Roman was supposed to hate him.
 But Roman didn’t hate him, he just…he just said he didn’t like him.
 But that was okay, because Janus could just come up with a better plan with him this time. They could do it properly, and Roman would hate him again and it would be back to normal.
 But then Janus left. And now Roman has Janus, who keeps his eyes where the prince’s aren’t, when he can’t see what’s happening or he can’t bear to look, to help Roman figure out what to do when what seems to be happening isn’t anything that the prince is used to dealing with. And Janus would never willingly step away from a place that finally accepted him.
 Roman has them now. Roman has people that chose him. Roman’s family chose him. He chose them. They chose each other.
 Remus’s grip on his Morningstar slackens and the thing falls to the ground with a heavy clunk. He moves numbly through his room until he can fall to his knees on his bed.
 He just came from the living room. They were all there. Roman was talking with Logan, ranting about some new show they were both watching. Janus was in the kitchen with Patton, making something for dinner that everyone—well, almost everyone—could eat. Virgil was on the back of the couch, reaching out for Roman’s shoulder every once in a while.
Remus had waited behind the couch. For someone to sit down, for someone to see him and shriek, or even maybe—just maybe—for someone to ask where he was.
 But no.
 Patton had come over and gently ruffled Virgil’s hair, saying that dinner was ready. Logan and Roman had moved into the kitchen, demanding Janus’s attention and pulling him into their conversation. Virgil had murmured a quiet thank you and Roman had asked him for what?
 “Y’know,” Virgil had said, “for…this.”
 “Of course,” Roman had laughed, the soft rustle of fabric as he probably pulled the emo in for a hug—what did those feel like?— “I should be thanking you?”
 “What for, kiddo?”
 “I dunno, it just…feels like it’s been forever since we’ve all sat down for dinner together.”
 Remus’s chest had started to hurt.
 “The whole family.”
 The whole family.
 Remus’s eyes well up with stubborn tears and he angrily swipes them away, baring his teeth at the memory and focusing intently on the things on the bed. Each hand-stitched, each carefully kept clean.
 His family.
 He reaches out with a shaking hand and tucks the blue frog plushie into the crook of his arm, crawling into the middle of the bed and balancing the purple spider on his shoulder. His hands keep shaking as he wraps the long yellow snake securely around his neck, clutching the head under his chin and nuzzling it protectively. The dark blue cat he holds in his other hand, careful not to tear its tie as he scrunches in on himself.
 Wait.
 Wait.
 Where is it?
 No, no, no, no—
 Remus growls, placing all of his family gently on the floor before all but tearing at his sheets. Where is it, where is it, where is it—his heartbeat starts to rise as his search grows more frantic, where is it, where is it—
 The slightest little puff of red hair and he howls, lunging for it and sweeping it into his lap. He pauses to make sure the lion’s crown didn’t fall off and sighs when he sees it still in place. He sets the lion between his legs and leans over, adjusting everyone back into place and scrunching himself into a ball again. He rubs his nose against the lion’s fur and nuzzles into the soft fabric.
 He’d never be able to forgive himself if he lost them.
 Because Ohana means family.
 Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.
——————————————————
There’s a knock on his door.
 Why is someone knocking on his door?
 They knock again.
 Remus looks up, carefully butting the spider out of the way with his head and sitting up. The snake hangs off his shoulder and he lets it, only missing its warmth once the knock sounds again.
 The frog and the cat watch him warily as he climbs out of bed, the lion clutched in his hand.
 The door squeaks slightly as he opens it.
 “So, I’ve got popcorn, I found the weird gummy snakes, and they had this chocolate-covered bacon which we have to try—Remus?”
 Roman?
 Roman stands there, his arms full of snacks and blankets, his head tilted. He glances behind Remus—probably to check something or other—and then back at him.
 “Remus? Are you okay?”
 “Why are you here?” Roman doesn’t like him.
 “It’s movie night, Re, of course, I’m here.” Roman chuckles nervously before taking in his tear-stained face. “Hey, Re, what’s going on? Are you okay? Can I come in?”
 Why is Roman here? Roman has his family, what is he doing here? With Remus?
 “Remus—“ oh, right, Roman’s talking to him—why is Roman talking to him?—in a soft voice now— “Remus, hey, look at me.”
 Remus blinks. Oh. Roman looks concerned now, he’s reaching for him.
 “Hey,” he murmurs as he ruffles Remus’s hair, “what’s going on? Have you been crying?”
 Remus nods dumbly.
 “I’m sorry, Re, can I help?”
 Help? Why does Roman want to help?
 Oh, he’s waiting for an answer.
 “…sure.”
 “Thank you,” Roman says softly, “can I come in?”
 Remus steps aside wordlessly and Roman walks in, pausing when he sees the rest of Remus’s family on the bed.
 “Did you make them?”
 Something dark twists in Remus’s chest as he sees Roman reach for the spider.
 “Don’t.”
Roman backs off, stepping back as Remus snatches up his family and cradles them in his lap, glaring at Roman and curling up on the bed.
 “I won’t, Re, I’m sorry,” Roman says, still speaking softly, “can I sit?”
 “…floor.”
 Roman sits on the floor, setting aside the blankets and snacks, looking up at him. He still looks concerned. Why? Roman doesn’t like him.
 “Why weren’t you at dinner,” he asks gently, “I was worried.”
 Worried? About him? Remus snorts.
 “You had your whole family there,” he spits, “why would you worry?”
 “But you weren’t there,” Roman says like that makes any difference, “so I was worried.”
 Remus shakes his head. Roman doesn’t get it. Roman doesn’t worry about him, he worries about other things. But if Roman wants to know why he wasn’t at dinner, he’ll tell him.
 “I was with my family.”
 Roman’s brow furrows as he glances around again. “…your family?”
 Remus huddles protectively around his family. “Yes. My family.”
 Roman’s eyes widen as he takes in Remus’s posture and how he reacted when Roman asked about them earlier.
 “…are they your family, Remus?”
 “Yes.” He holds them tighter. “I chose them. They won’t leave me. They won’t forget me. That’s what family means.”
 Something crosses Roman’s face and he lets out a wounded noise. Wait. Are they fighting?
 “Wait, Remus,” he murmurs, rising up to his knees, “did you—did you think we forgot you?”
 “You did forget me.”
 “I’m sorry, Remus, I would’ve come to look for you, but I thought—“ Roman shakes his head— “no, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should’ve come got you, Re, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”
 Oh.
 “…you didn’t?”
 Roman shakes his head furiously. “No, Remus, I promise. I never meant to leave you.”
 “But everybody leaves me.”
 If possible, Roman’s eyes are now wider and he scrambles for the edge of the bed. “What do you mean, Remus, what do you mean everybody leaves you?”
 “You left. Virgil left. Janus left. Everybody left.��� The lion’s mane brushes against his lips as he bows his head. “But not them. They won’t leave me.”
 “Oh, Remus—“
 Something big lunges at him and Remus whimpers, he doesn’t have his Morningstar, he doesn’t want to fight, he doesn’t—he doesn’t—
 What’s happening? He feels warm and he’s being squished and Roman is pressing himself against him and what—what—
 “What’re you doing?”
 “It’s a hug, Remus,” comes Roman’s voice, slightly muffled, from over his shoulder, “I’m hugging you.”
 Oh.
 Oh.
 “R-Ro?”
 “Yeah, Re, I’m here, I’m right here, I won’t forget you, I won’t leave you behind, you’re my brother, you’re my family, I choose you.” Roman’s grip tightens on him and Remus just about gasps. “I choose you and I want you and I like you.”
 Roman…Roman likes him?
 Roman chooses him?
 Roman won’t…leave?
 “No, Remus,” Roman promises as he cautiously asks, “I won’t leave. Not unless you want me to.”
 “No.”
 “Then I’m not going anywhere.”
 That’s it.
 Remus throws his arms around his twin and sobs, cries an entire ocean of tears into his brother’s shoulder because he’s here and he cares and he chose Remus. The darkness shudders as that small part of him surges forward, into Roman’s chest, finding a home in the prince’s heart and languishing in the warmth there.
 “I’m right here, Re,” Roman murmurs, stroking up and down his back, “right here, I’ve got you.”
 The snake drapes itself cautiously over Roman’s shoulder, the spider taking up watch on his knee. The cat and the frog stare at him, making sure he isn’t lying, that he won’t change his mind. The lion, sandwiched between them, feels the reassuring rumble from Roman’s chest and purrs.
 After a long, long time, Remus pulls back a little and scuffs a hand over his nose.
 “…did you say something about chocolate-covered bacon?”
 Roman’s smile lights up.
 “Let’s put on Lilo and Stitch and we’ll try it.”
 Ohana means family.
 Family means no one gets left behind.
 Or forgotten.
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andieperrie18 · 3 years
Text
Your Endgame
So this is requested by@raginghellfire. I haven’t written in a while due Uni and busy classes but I hope I did a good job on this. UwU Dami might be a bit OOC but I really think he is a passionate lover when he falls in love.
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Bruce Wayne was one tough cookie. Unlike Tony, he held shackled himself with the responsibility of protecting Gotham city from its baddies that he barely let himself enjoy his life. He too cares for children very much but he wasn't as hands-on being there for them. He wasn't always there in those best events in their life to congratulate them that greatly hurt them. It would seem that he just adopted these children as soldiers for his endless war with crime, that they were nothing but expendable assets. But he does love them and had just recently been trying to reconnect with all of them.
Tony Stark had always let his child have free reign over their life but he never leaves the passenger seat. He will always be by their side no matter what choice they make. He was never strict as he was a free soul but he grows and understands responsibility everyday after returning from Afghanistan after being held captive. He wasn't a perfect father but he did try for Y/n, good thing for him is that she understands responsibility earlier made it easy for him to be there for him.
Bruce Wayne was notorious for being a play boy, same goes to Tony Stark. Both men has had another of flings that the paparazzi didn't miss to see. It took quite a while before two of them finally found out the true meaning of true love. The one decided to settle down while the other chose his job over attaining a lifelong happiness and peace.
Some of the Wayne kids also had their own flings through out their lives. Some had more the two and some, just one. Just one cause when the second came, they were their endgame.
---
The bright city lights of Paris slightly seeped in the glass panes of the balcony doors of the room. Across it was a king sized bed with undone sheets and two people underneath the high quality comforter. Damian and Y/n sat with backs against the head board, the latter former resting his against the latter's figure. His head slightly buried on her neck as her fingers combed through his bed hair her other hand around his bare chest.
"I'm pretty sure that photo reached them already," her voice echoed around the slightly dim room.
Damian hummed, "It did, which earned me quite a number of miss calls from my family,"
Y/n giggled that he found contagious making him do the same.
"I'm going back to Gotham in two days but I don't think I'm ready to leave your side yet," he snuggled his face on her neck, placing butterflies kisses on them. Her eyes close, a flutter vibrates within her chest as she pulled his head closer. Placing her lips on his head. Damian pulled her seated figure closer to his own, his face snuggling closer to her skin.
"Can I just postpone the flight for another month?" he mumbled, sending tickles on her skin making her giggle.
"Dami, you said that 2 months ago and you already bought a ticket home,"
Damian never whines but after almost two years of being in a relationship, there are certain childishness he had suddenly unlock being with her. Y/n laughed at his childish wiles as it send tingles in his stomach, he loves it when she laughs because of him.
"Besides, I already scheduled mine and my seat is next to yours, you can't expect me to have an empty seat beside me?"
Damian's head shot up from her neck, his eyes staring at her. Y/n bit her lip containing a fit of giggles after seeing his eyes sparkle like a child getting a new toy. He slumped his faced between breast.
"I really love you."
"And I really love you too, Dami,"
---
And probably the biggest public figures is youngest Wayne child and the eldest Stark Child. The most controversial couple that reached ears all over the world. No one knew of their relationship as until the paparazzi caught a picture of them kissing at Champ de Mars near the Eiffel tower. The news made use of the quote, "Pictures speaks a thousand words" rather well. Some are heartbroken by the news but the biggest people taken surprise by the news were the Wayne's.
Clicks and flashes surrounded the long trail of red carpet that lead to entrance of the Wayne manor that held another gala. This time it was a celebratory occasion for the youngest Wayne's return from a long vacation that he took a almost 2 years ago. A break he took after a rather peaceful yet melancholic break up with titan's member. Damian suddenly decided to toss the towel and told his Father that he doesn't want to be like Bruce, alone and brooding. He needs to breath for a while to which his father did not hesitate to agree. Bruce loves his children, he may not show it but he does.
A Grey matte Porsche 911 parked its way at the end of the carpet making some of the photographers to  it, awaiting the celebrities that will emerge.
"Do you think they'll like me? I mean Dad isn't really in good terms with Bruce Wayne you know," Y/n  eyed the silhouette of the Wayne manor and the crowding paps at the cat walk. This wasn't the first time she came to a Wayne gala, its just that this time she was going to be introduced as Damian Wayne's girlfriend.
The emerald eyed Wayne gently took her chin to meet his eyes. A gentle smiles grew from his lips.
"They will, beloved. I know they will because I love you," his voice said laced a such a tender tone that no one ever thought he could have.
A love sick grin emerged from her once doubting expression before she pressed leaned for a quick peck to which he returned in an instant. They pulled away with both of them sharing the same cheek tinted grins.
Damian emerged from the driver's seat followed by the loud camera clicks and calling reporters. He simply gave his signature Wayne smile before turning to the other side of the car to where Y/n emerges with the same celebrity like smile that she inherited from her father. From the moment they set foot on the carpet, the paparazzi just got louder and rather pushy that made the guards push them out a little harder.
"Mr. Wayne how'd you meet Ms. Stark?!"
"Miss Stark, how long have you two been together?!"
"Miss Stark look here!!"
"Mister Wayne! Look here!!"
To say that the paparazzi were going crazy would be an understatement, as they were going mad-crazy as the couple walking the catwalk is the biggest confirmation to the news that a union between the Wayne and the Stark has occurred. If they could only get to the couple to ask some, more like a bunch of questions would be the cherry on top of the new news for next day.
Upon entry within the Manor, their arrival turn heads and silenced chatters.
Y/n M/n Stark, the matriarch of the Stark Industries inheriting the nickname, 'Merchant of Death' in Manhattan. She was a much smarter tinker as she assured no such case like her father's long captivity ever happened again and all Stark weapons are heavily protected and can only be handled by the military hands.
Damian Wayne was no CEO but is a COO of the Wayne Enterprises. Helping his brother Tim in managing the affairs in the company. It's bad enough that the male is overdosing himself with caffeine while handling their nightly hero affairs, he was still his brother no matter how much they quarrel. Damian was willing to shoulder long painstaking meetings for him just to let him have a day off.
To see the two of them together would expresses a union.
Their matching outfit theme elevated the curiosity of all the attendants of the gala. Damian's slick three piece burgundy check suit made Damian look sophisticated but neat. Every young lady around the room were welcome to gawk at his figure as he glides with his partner. Y/n's own green gown greatly complimented his with its shade of green, its shape hugging her figure naturally that she loved. Every young man had their eyes on an emerald.
It didn't take long before the couple reached the group of people they are meant to meet. They didn't miss their wide eyes and dropped jaws. Y/n may be a stranger but they could agree that she is a beautiful stranger.It was only when Damian spoke that they have gained awareness of their surroundings.
"Good evening father, everyone. It's nice to see you all again," Damian began with Y/n holding on to his shoulder.
"I gotta say demon spawn you grew quite a lot for just two years," Jason earned a slightly hard nudge from Dick. Damian may have grown but he still has a tick with Jason's nicknames for him.
"Don't mind him Damian, why don't you introduce your company," the eldest said as he slightly push the white streaked hair male behind him that earned a look from his father.
Damian didn't say anything on the nickname thing and proceeded to introduce her which earned quite an awkward atmosphere on his family's side while the couple remained at ease in their presence.
"Stark its nice to finally see you again," Tim entered as he brought his hand out to which the woman took generously.
"Good to see you too Drake, and good evening to you too Mister Wayne,"
Bruce went forward to shake her hand, "How is your father by the way?" he asked.
"He is doing well, he's living by the countryside with my sister and mom," she replied with a smile.
"So he's settling down?" Bruce asked, quite surprised.
"Yes, he said life is short and he intends to spend it living it with us," She continued to which earned a bit of awkwardness with Damian's siblings. It was a rather sensitive topic but they didn't speak of it any further.
---
Damian had to separate himself from Y/n to help Tim a bit on the company. Seated by the bar, with his two brothers and his father, it was quite a company.
"How long have you two been going out?" Dick opened as you turned to him.
"We've been together for almost 1 year and half years, but we didn't started dating until six months later after we met,"
"We're you aware he just got out of a break up?" Jason raised.
Y/n took a sip of her drink, "I did, that's why I didn't let him to be with me until I totally confirmed that I was not a rebound,"
"And how do you know you aren't just a rebound for Rachel Roth?" Dick asked this time.
Bruce didn't say anything as he wasn't very much in touch with his son's relationship, but he did know that he loved her, Damian wouldn't risk his life for anyone if he did. As much as he wanted to stop Dick from pulling a rather sensitive topic on a person he just met especially when that person is someone close to his brother, he wants to know if the girl was just a fling. Y/n was known to have a number of flings before Damian came in to the picture.
"Damian is not mine to claim, whether I am a rebound or not, I still love him, you can try to make me say what we are having is just a fling but I know one thing," her tone was authoritative but calm.
They were doubting Damian's judgement with her relationship with her. Its not like she wasn't aware that he dated a co-worker of his. He was his first love and Y/n knew she might not be his last but she sure prays to whatever ethereal being that they last.
"I love him. Whether you believe me or not, I will always do even if he chooses her over me,"
Damian was her everything.
---
By midnight, Damian said his good byes with his family. He didn’t miss the slight look of sadness in her eyes so he took her away from his brothers' company. Damian was sure that they said something but she chose to protect them by not telling him anything.
When they got to the parking lot as they got to their car, Damian stopped and had Y/n face him. Before she could ask, he had already latched his lips on her. Giving her an ever so passionate kiss they always share. One that he always felt like he was having his first kiss the first time.
Y/n circled her arms around his neck before they broke off, forehead resting against each other.
"I may not know what went on between you and my family by the bar, but I want you to know that I love you. You may not be my first but I am deathly sure that you are my last…" he whispered to her.
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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years
Text
The Grandfather Clock Chimes | 1921
Pairing: Carlisle/Esme
Rating: G
Word count: 1977
Warnings: None
Summary: The first time Carlisle and Esme are alone together.
A/n Thanks to @jessicanjpa for the idea to do a solo Carlisle/Esme fic! I’m obsessed with them at the moment, so writing the first hopeful, awkward, thrilling moment when they’re on their own made my heart all kinds of happy! 
In the entry way, the tall grandfather clock noted the hour.
Esme counted five chimes.
Carlisle was rarely home this early.
His arrival through the grand front door had startled Esme, who had become quite used to their little routine, but did not seem to shock the bronze-haired boy composing at the piano. No, Edward had merely smiled in that shy, all-knowing way of his, and welcomed the doctor home before announcing his intent to visit town. Esme had watched him go, shocked into physical silence, but inside, her mind raced, shouting panicked thoughts at the boy.
She had never been alone with the doctor, and had no idea what to say to him.
Stifling a grin, Edward had patted Esme’s hand in a half-hearted attempt to soothe before he took his leave, off to town to ‘collect supplies,’ whatever that was supposed to mean.
And that’s how Esme and Carlisle came to find themselves alone in an unnecessarily large house, sitting unnecessarily far apart in the unnecessarily spacious living room.
Esme sat straighter in her chair, if that was even possible.
On the sofa across from her, Carlisle mirrored her action.
The seconds ticked by.
“I was reminded of you while at work today,” Carlisle spoke suddenly. His voice disturbed the heavy silence between them, and Esme blinked to buy time while she found her voice.
“Oh?”
Though her response was minimal, Carlisle felt encouraged — the brief, thrilling moment when she spoke to him was much better than the silence.
“Yes,” he nodded eagerly, leaning forward in his seat in a futile attempt to close the space of the entire room that lay between them. “A woman visited her brother in our burn ward, and she had the same length hair as you do, with the same bounce to her curls. For just a split second, I thought it was you — but of course, it was ridiculous to believe it could be.” To illustrate this, he shook his head slightly, admonishing himself. “Regrettably, you are confined to the house and our land for the time being, so obviously, you could not have been visiting me at the hospital. Not to think I would presume that, were you to leave the house, you would visit me at the hospital,” he was quick to correct, glancing at her nervously. “No, you could be there for any number of reasons, I’m sure. Though,” his eyes darted to the wall just to her left, avoiding her slowly yellowing eyes, “those reasons are escaping my mind, at present.”
Despite nerves that made her wonder if she still possessed the ability to pass out, Esme smiled. Carlisle always seemed so proper, so put together — nothing ever flustered him.
Nothing, it seemed, until today.
Without Edward there, Esme could afford to be honest with herself in this brief moment of mental privacy. And, since she was being honest with herself, she could acknowledge that she quite liked seeing the doctor flustered.
In her silence, Carlisle continued to babble. “Once I got a better look at the woman, it became doubly clear she could not have been you. Her hair, while a shade of brown, was nothing like the unique caramel color of yours….” He trailed off once again, his gaze falling from the wall to a spot by Esme’s foot.
Esme pursed her lips against a smile. His nervousness had an unexpected effect on her — it seemed to embolden her, almost, to push past the uncertainty of her own. She attempted a slight change in topic. “How was your time at work?”
His perfectly golden eyes snapped to hers, a measure of relief in them. “Quite pleasant, to be honest. All easy fixes today. That is not often the case.”
“Is that why you were allowed to come home early,” Esme prodded, unable to fight the smile that tugged on her lips. She continued to be bold, watching his expression carefully as she spoke. “I admit, I found it a pleasant surprise to have you home before your usual time.”
Hope — beautiful, lighthearted, blossoming hope — lightened Carlisle’s eyes. He leaned forward, now in danger of falling off the sofa. “You did?”
“Y-yes,” she stuttered, caught off guard by his exuberance. She realized how her careless words could have been interpreted, and hurried to cover her tracks. For all his happiness at present, it was clear he did not share her feelings — best not to scare him off. “It is good for Edward to see you often — though he is older than me in our immortal years, he is still a boy at heart. He needs your attention, your guidance.”
Carlisle’s face sobered, though he quickly softened the lines into a small, understanding smile. “You are right, of course. I should spend more time with him. I am grateful for your insight.”
Esme’s useless heart could have melted right then. Always so polite and considerate, her doctor was, and it never failed to chip away at her carefully constructed reservations.
They fell into silence again, and Esme bit the inside of her cheek — a human gesture carried into this new life. Her hands laid over each other on her knee, touching the skirt of the light blue dress she wore — a gift from the man who sat at her opposite. Her fingers interlaced and tightened as she raised her eyes to his once more, trying to provoke her courage into gathering again.
“What did you and Edward do for fun before I arrived?”
Carlisle’s eyebrows raised, and so did Esme’s. She hadn’t planned on asking that.
Carlisle’s lips stretched into a nostalgic smile, and Esme decided right then that it was the most beautiful expression one could make.
“We spent a lot of time exploring the areas we lived in — visiting shops on cloudy days, hiking in the vast forests, even swimming in the lake sometimes.”
Then, his expression clouded, and Esme nearly had to sit on her hands to keep herself from rushing over and caressing his cheek, wanting to offer him every ounce of comfort she could.
“But I must admit,” Carlisle continued, sounding sad in a way that broke Esme’s heart, “those days were few and far between. Edward is…an introspective soul,” he decided on his phrasing finally, sounding like he chose the words with great care. “There are many days when he prefers to stay at home and lament over a choice he had no chance to make for himself.”
Esme had noticed this. Despite all the good times she and Edward had together, there was many an occasion when he would insist that they were all damned. Him and herself she could believe with little argument, but Carlisle? His damnation was a more difficult point for her to be convinced of — he seemed too pure, too wonderful, too good to be stopped at the gates of Heaven.
“I think he requires a push sometimes,” Esme reasoned, having gained great insight into Edward during these past few months of her new life. “He is intelligent, he needs something to stimulate his mind and take away from those dark thoughts. Perhaps visits to museums or—or an opportunity to play his compositions publicly, like at one of those galas you’re always being invited to.” The ideas came to her suddenly, tumbling out of some vault in her mind she wasn’t aware she possessed. “Maybe even school would be good for him.”
At this, the corners of Carlisle’s lips turned down, and Esme sucked in a breath — had she said something wrong?
But Carlisle shook his head, speaking gently. “It would not be right to leave you home by yourself, not while your control is…still in its early stages of success,” he finished delicately, always hesitant to insult even the most deserving being.
“Right,” Esme agreed, looking at her lap as she thought. A new idea sparked in her brain, and her eyes snapped to the doctor’s with enthusiasm. “I could teach him!”
Once again, Carlisle’s eyebrows raised, this time in clear surprise. “Is—is that something of interest for you?”
“Oh, yes,” Esme nodded, excitement overtaking her. “Though I don’t remember much of my career, I know I was a teacher in my human life — I would love the opportunity to rekindle that passion.”
Carlisle grinned, and Esme had to amend her earlier thought — this was the most beautiful expression one could make.
“I think that is a fantastic idea,” he enthused, hands settling on his knees. “I will go into town tomorrow morning and order all the necessary supplies. Are there any subjects of interest you yourself would like to expand upon? I would be happy to pick up the materials.”
Esme tilted her head as she thought on this. There was something, a curiosity that had always played at the back of her mind.
“Architecture,” she answered, then surprised herself when a playful smile overtook her lips. “If I learned about it, maybe I would stand a chance restoring this crumbling mansion of yours.”
Carlisle dipped his head in a teasingly bashful acknowledgement and promised to find her the proper books and supplies.
Esme leaned back in her chair, mildly embarrassed to find how far she had extended herself in Carlisle’s direction. “Perhaps you could be a guest lecturer of sorts — when your schedule allows, of course.”
Carlisle blessed her with her favorite grin once more, and Esme basked in it. He tilted his head as if explaining some inside joke. “Esme, we do not sleep. I am sure I could find time to help with your project.”
If she thought his smile would do her in, it was nothing compared to hearing him say her name! How lovely it sounded coming from his lips, resonating in the gentle baritone of his voice. She wished she could pretend she did not hear it, to ask him to repeat himself, and have the chance of hearing him say it again. Then, perhaps, she could return by speaking his own name — his familiar name, as he had used hers — something she rarely allowed herself to do.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, when the front door opened and Edward’s scent filled the home.
The breath she would have used to speak tumbled from her mouth in a sigh. So soon…
But the clocked chimed again — six tolls, this time — and Esme was startled to discover that she and Carlisle had been together in that living room for over an hour.
How had the time stretched in an eternity, yet been over in mere minutes? What was this man’s presence doing to her?
Esme’s eyes sought Carlisle’s once more and she felt a pleasant warmth upon realizing that his eyes were searching hers with an equal fervor. They stayed like that for an immeasurable moment, locked in a gaze of unexpected intensity.
She hoped, down to the deepest parts of her useless heart, that there would be more moments like this, where it was just the two of them. Yes, part of her was relieved at being freed from this constant state of being unsure, but another part regretted Edward’s rapid return.
Part of her would have been perfectly content to sit in the hesitant, hopeful, awkward, thrilling silence with Carlisle for an eternity.
She didn’t quite know what to make of that.
Knowing their time for this evening was done, Esme and Carlisle stood and met the boy in the foyer, welcoming him home. While they inspected and praised the packages he brought — items for the house and gifts for the two he was quickly starting to consider as his parents — Carlisle and Esme avoided each other’s eyes.
Only Edward could know what the other was thinking.
And, out of respect for them both, he would not tell them that they were thinking exactly the same thing.
A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! You can find my masterlist here :) 
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wizkiddx · 3 years
Note
cONGRATS ON 500, you deserve it more than anyone😪 and 9 with actress reader girlfriend, i beg you maam <33
AHHH THANKUUU, i didn’t know with number 9 so i just did both oops :)))
Dialogue prompts 9 = "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me"
Kissing prompts 9 = Continued kiss, even after the director yells "cut!"
request something to celebrate my 500 followers!!! (but pls tell me what prompt list its from 🤍)
****okay so just pretend that tom and y/n are in something like the love actually ending bit at the airport which also just happens to be the last scene they shooting which ik is completely unrealistic*****
summary: change is scary and it makes you question the realistic future you and tom have
/////////////////
The atmosphere on the lot was almost electric. It had been a long time coming, three months of filming, but here the two young stars were - stood in the mock up set of Heathrow terminal 2. All cast and crew were buzzing, closing a project was such a moment, a pat on the back. And hell, there would be celebrations and a half this evening.
In fact they’d been on this ‘last shot’ for the past two and a half hours, even if the actual footage would most likely make up barely 50 seconds of the films runtime. But then, thats Hollywood.
“Alright guys one last time for me-“ The collective around the director all sighed and rolled their eyes, because this director had a talent for saying ‘ last one’ and meaning twenty more. “Nono!” He laughed, hopping from foot to foot “I’m serious about this! Y/n, Tom this is it, I want all that emotion right?”
Tom responded with a serious and professional nod, whilst you struggled just a little bit more - taking a long shaky exhale. Not that Jon knew, but you were already almost flooded with emotion. Today was a big day.
This job had given you something extra special, something above and beyond a new experience and memories. It had given you the most amazing time with one of the most extraordinary individuals you’d ever met. It had brought you a home away from home, it had brought you Tom. Yes, it may only have been 2 and a bit months - but that didn’t make the feelings any less real or intense for either of you.
Hence why the directors orders of emotion where a waste of breath. You were feeling it all- terrified, excited but mainly apprehensive.
There was a reason your love life had been so pathetically tragic before Tom- dating as an actor was hard. The invasion of privacy, the constant moving about - it was impossible when one half of the relationship was in that position. So what was the future prospects like when the both of you were in the prime of your careers? Not a fucking lot.
“Right, on your marks please.” The directors orders distracted you from the never ending runaway train of thought, with a nod hurrying round the back of the corridor, ready to walk out onto the concourse as ‘Manasi’ one last time.
The scene was a simple one, you come out with your luggage- running to hug ‘ Adam’ or Tom; jump and kiss him like hes the last person on earth. Although this was supposed to be the long awaited reunion between the two fictitious characters, what it felt more like was the real goodbye between you and Tom. And that hurt.
So as the clapperboard snapped, signalling it was time for Manasi to round the corner with an excited smile, you checked yourself for a second.
You could do this.
Rounding the corner, your eyes scanned over the sea of extras, skilfully missing the massive camera shoved close to your face. As soon as you locked eyes with TomAdam, everything else melted away. Without thinking, your legs started sprinting towards the young man, who had the biggest grin on his face and opened his arms. Forcefully, you jumped into his strong embrace, tightly wrapping legs round the back of his thighs.
No words were needed or scripted, as you arched back with either hand cupping his sharp jaw line. There were tears blurring your vision but his warm brown eyes were crystal clear as you leaned toward him, momentarily nuzzling your nose against the side of his before delicately pressing his lips against yours.
It all felt so intense, this never-ending rush and heart-dropping moment as the two of you moved in sync - not over the top or cringey. Just pure care, pure love and pure happiness as the two of you melted together.
Everything just worked. It was almost dizzying, the way the whole world seemed for fizzle out, suddenly the scenario was so non-existent.
Intoxicating was what it was, so much so though you heard the director calling ‘cut’ your brain chose not to listen. Desperately you held onto the moment with TomAdam for as long as possible, till Tom arched away, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you try and chase him backwards. That was until he noticed the way your eyes shone more than usual, the glint of the lights hitting the build up of tears. Instinctively he grabbed your hand and pulled you behind the corridor bit for privacy- not that anyone would’ve noticed, the crew were all to busy jumping around and cheering the completion of the shoot. And it was a cause for celebration, the project had been a little gruelling and it was a massive accomplishment to get to the end. But thats what scared you - the end.
“Hey what’s going on in that funny little head of yours lovie?” His voice was gravely and hushed as his thumb swiped just under your eyelashes, catching a lone droplet that escaped.
“I don’t want this to end.”
“ The shoot or…” He was insinuating the end of your relationship but it didn’t matter, the answer to both of those questions was yes.
Because they kind of felt one and the same. How likely was it you and Tom would be able to maintain romance on opposite sides of the world? At least when you were both tied in by contract to this specific location, it was possible. The two of you were possible.
So you only replied with a jerky nod, which made Tom let out a sharp exhale, before now cupping both your cheeks with his large and slightly rough palms.
“Heyheyhey look at me darling-“ Dragging your eye line up with a gulp, you were then transfixed into his mahogany brown irises, with little flicks of red and black. “You are the best thing thats ever happened to me. We’re going to be fine.”
“It’s easy to say that bu-“
“I’m saying it cos I know it!” He answered without missing a beat. “I love you and thats it. You’re it, okay?” Now your tears were freely spilling but they were happy tears - tears of ‘what the hell had you done to deserve the boy in front of you’. Only able to reply in a whisper because of the overtaking emotion, you just uttered 4 simple words.
“I love you too.”
His lips were on yours again but this time it was different. It wasn’t your characters reuniting in a kiss, it was the two of you, fears and worries exposed, being together. His lips moved slowly against yours because there was no rush.
You had all the time in the world with Tom.
~~let me know what u think, feedback means the world <333~~
tagging: @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala @hollandlover19
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Could I get a fluff imagine where Levi Ackerman is dating a tall reader like 5’8/5’9 and Levi gets a little insecure about his height because he heard some people making comments and really thought about it and then the reader comforts him and tell him she gets insecure sometimes too but it’s worth it because she loves that she can hug Levi and he’s just covered in her body and other things that normally a tall male would do in a relationship she just really enjoys that she can do that. Thanks❤️
Hi, you have no idea for how long I've been writing this. I hope I did some justice to my fellow taller friends out there. And I hope everyone reading this can enjoy, thank you for requesting❤
Pairing: Levi/ Reader
Tags: fluff, really just fluffity fluff, taller reader, canonverse
Top of The Shelf
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"Can you reach that cup for me (y/n)?"
The soft welcoming smile painted on your face that served as the signal of your comply to his demand sent jolts through Levi's chest. His own grumpy expression didn't allow him to show his gratitude the way his words could although he knew you could read through him.
It went like that on normal days. Little acts of affection as in tangling in sheets together, helping him clean the kitchen after a loose Saturday night for the scout regiment, blending and infusing tea leaves to make your own creation; Levi's love language to you was genuine and tender, despite what everyone else chose to see in his otherwise stoic demeanor.
It wasn't unusual for him to be a little distant or silent. The stoic moodiness and the sass that he carried in his presence were reliefs of anxiety and coping mechanisms that no one would have guessed as had they not known him like you did. It wasn't unnatural to not get a response or to see an eye roll or two by him, he was always caught up in his work, always trying to succeed in his role and honor his dead and today shouldn't have been an exception as to how his usual mood was.
Yet for the upteenth time this evening he sighed. And you noticed.
"You know what, no." He snarled "I'll get it on my own."
The little snapping of his voice along with the the clicking of his tongue shouldn't have been bizzare to you, but it was. Thus instantly your eyes fell to his hands. Erratic fingers scratched the marble counter with jolting movements, hoisting a wet rug that soon was tossed to the side, prompting the sound of his annoyed voice to higher levels.
"You alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
For mere seconds, his cold, gunmetal gaze fell on you, lips puckered and scrunched in the most bitter way he could master. It wasn't entirely directed to you, that much was obvious, but it still made your gut churn to an extent. Specs of anxiety tinted the insides of your stomach in what felt like dark maroon. With the pucker of your own lips, you were the first to turn your gaze to the side.
"Move just a bit to the left" He said.
You nodded slightly, gaze still so far way and fixed on a corner of the floor, and adjusted your hand to the small of his waist to steady yourself. What should have caused him to sink his head to your shoulder only earned you a loud and sharp click of his tongue. Slowly you moved your eyes towards him, your gaze and heavy chest submitted to the slight asphyxiation in the atmosphere.
You blinked as you eyed him up and down; the flats of his heels were arched in the painful binding leather of the brown military boots, the muscles of his feet pulsating slightly each time he bucked and tip toed again. You were fully aware that he could feel your eyes on him, still he turned to you with a puckered lower lip once his heels came flat to the mahogany tiles with a loud clicking sound.
"I can't reach it."
"Clearly. Jeez Levi. I got it. Please don't snap about minor things."
"I'm not snapping. But if you haven't noticed I'm always ready to snap"
"I know, I know" You shook your head and laughed.
The pouty little gaze on his face didn't ease like you expected, it was accentuated by two ebony furrowed brows and a set of overly shadowed wrinkles. His hands came to cross over his chest, flexing the bulky muscles of his chest as they tightned, twitching slightly as his shirt wrinkled below his hands. Down below, his foot tapped obnoxiously, indicating the slight nervousness of his presence.
You could only eye him, cup in hand and a soft expression on your face. Your eyebrow was cocked high on your forehead in a silent request, your gingered tapping onto the porcelain cup in synch to his foot. Clearly what was in the air was becoming so strong that it felt like you were on the edge of a cliffcliff with no room to escape.
"Care to tell me what's going on?" You whispered and everted your eyes from his frame, searching for the mettalic kettle that you had washed a little while ago.
"Tch"
"Just a click of the tongue Levi?"
"It's nothing"
Levi was quick to dismiss you, his own eyes daring to reach the wooden tiles of the floor, following across the swirly lines of honey colored wood. His brain felt scattered into a million pieces, the cause of his anxiety roamed inside his brain like a wide eyed ogre that feastes of off the rise of insecurities. But what he felt was his own problem? Wasn't it?
He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts once again. If only those cadets hadn't run their nosy mouths into his relationship, if only he hadn't heard that one repetitive comment on that one morning he was drained physically, maybe he wouldn't have ever doubted himself. It wasn't like him to feel like that, Levi knew his place in the world, he knew who he was and he didn't care about anyone else's shitty view on him. What he couldn't tolerate was you being looked down upon because of him.
If he was one to be more open with his feelings he would choose to talk about it. It was a couple-y thing. You shared your insecurities with him and he has shared almost everything he can remember from his life with you. It should have felt easy for him to just spill the beans on how he felt so low compared to you.
But it wasn't.
Instead of running his big mouth, he decided he would help you make tea. Whatever inadequaty he felt wasn't because of you, if he was too short it was his own fault, his own problem. Not yours, not anyone's else's. And therefore it shouldn't have affected him in such way. Nevertheless, he fixed his eyes on you again, eyeying you from head to toe. Maybe you were tall for him. With the way your legs and arms were longer than his. Letely he had found himself comparing the way his feet seemed small next to yours, though still bulky and full due to his training.
"Here" He offered "let me make our tea"
His fingers came to reach for the handle of the kettle, tagging it slightly off your hands. You gave him a soft smile, just enough to accentuate the nod of your head to his direction.
"Whatever you say apple pie." You teased.
Levi slightly eyes you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but scoff slightly in amusement, the soft glimmer in your eyes was warm, softly burning in the hues of the candlelight. The stiff line of happiness formed a little bump on your left cheek, not enough to be called a dimple it no less that a crevice.
Levi let out a other huff of air through his nose. His hand teacher for the handle of the tap, pumping the metallic object with a few swings and twists of his wrist. Water poured out of the end of the tap and into the kettle, the calming sounds of water flowing in the vessel calming you slightly as you thought about how the that was about to be made would be a dear, calming beverage.
Setting the kettle to the side of the counter, Levi placed both his hands on the edge of it and hung his head low. Your eyes softened as you eyed him again; the man looked drained and tired, a rather usual look for him one could say, but in the very moment, he looked like it was tons more than what should have been usually. Your hand reaches out to him again instinctively and as it landed on his shoulder you softly squeezed the spot protectively.
"Pass me the tea leaves" Levi spoke and his eyes we're squeezed shut. "At least you can reach them."
You giggled at him as you opened the cupboard again, grabbing thin air with the palm of your hand, trying to take a hold of the jar you were looking for. Once you took a hold you it your face lit up, and you turned to him again with gleamy eyes. The candlelight glimmered slightly as you pushed the door to the cupboard closed
His fingers worked on the lid of the jar next, twisting the thin cover in circular motions of his wrist. You watched with half lid, adorning eyes as the tips of his fingers reached for a handful of the aromatic, dry leaves in the jar. Levi eyed you momentarily from the corner of his eyes and looked at the task he had set to himself previously. He sighed deeply, letting a mellow higher pitch note of his voice escape him.
"You love me too much don't you?" He questioned, eyebrow cocked to the middle of his forehead, still his gaze was fixed on how his fingers were meddling with tea leaves as they were giving occasional stirs to the blend.
"Mhm" You nodded with a smile.
He slid his hand out of the jar sharply, only to set the leaves into the infuser that was resting to the rim of the porcelain tea pot, giving them a little suppresssing push, to squish then just enough to stay tamed until he poured the water in.
"Off to my quarters." He said.
He handed you the porcelain cups, taking a hold of the kettle and the tea pot in turn. With a soft thud, he set the pace of the footing for you, though he signed with the turn of his head for you to go first. You walked ahead with no objection.
....
Levi sighed again, just after you set the cups on the wooden surface of his desk. Your eyes couldn't help but fall on him with coherence, eyeing him as he threw a few logs into the wilding flames of his fireplace. He pushed them further inside, careful not to cause ashes to spread all over the room, then he turned his gaze to you once again.
"The water should boil in a couple of minutes." He said, and plopped his palm flat onto his desk.
"What do you want to do until then?"
Your face formed in a small outline of a smile as you walked towards the ravenette, your eyes squinted softly the moment you laid them onto him. You wrapped your arms around his form from behind, slowly, racing them over his torso as in his body was something to explore before you clasped your palms together to secure your embrace.
"You're so cute when you're aggravated like that"
"Tch"
With the click of his tongue, Levi rolled his eyes at you, the inside of his cheek quickly sandwiched between his teeth. He looked to the side of your hand, his eyes traveling over the deemly lit outline of your clasped palms. His tongue darted, flat as it was, to rub on his pallette, feeling all the little bumpy lines of tissue as the bitter and unwanted taste of sadness engulfed his misbehaving taste buds.
It was too infuriating to even think about it.
"Oh come on."
In the most cutesy way, you rubbed your chin to the top of his head, then softly pulled him closer so that his back, or rather the top of his shoulders, came to slightly press against you. This earned another grit of Levi's teeth.
"Tch"
"Stop clicking your tongue Leviii" You pushed your lips together as your eyes squinted happily.
You rubbed your chin on him again, then your cheek, scrunching your nose slightly as the pleasant smell of his soap reached your nostrils. Your lips quickly found their way to the top of his hairline, where you placed numerous kisses, the muffled kissing sounds echoing around the room.
"Stop."
"No, you stop being grumpy, just tell me what's going on."
Levi clicked his tongue again and sighed. His chest rose and fell sharply, a strong huff of air escaped his nose as he gulped dryly.
It was now or never.
He didn't have anything to be afraid of, plus, conversing about his problems with his significant other was something everyone had suggested to him. And after thinking about for the whole evening, he felt like he could talk about it with you.
Although, what he wanted to say came way more aggressively than he had planned to. The click of his tongue and the roll of his eyes were groundbreaking proof of that.
"Doesn't this fuckshit bother you?"
"Huh?" You cocked your eyebrow "what fuckshit?"
"I bet you'd rather be in my place right now."
Levi wiggled his index finger underneath your palms, breaking the knot of your hands over his chest, while he span himself sternly around and right before you.
"Be in your place? How?"
"Wouldn't you rather be kissed at the top of your hair? And pushed on a chest?"
Grey eyes blinked in yours with long pauses, thin lips faced you as they were being pushed into a hurt filled pucker, arched eyebrows creasing at the soft spot over his narrow nose bridge. Had you not been thinking about how to even answer to him, you would be giggling at this soft, child like pout all over his face.
"Levi!"
"Don't Levi me just answe-"
You almost jumped on the spot as the kettle went off. The loud whistle filled the room proudly, seeking your utmost attention immediately. Levi's quick feet wasted no time to take him the few steps to the fireplace, his gaze angrily straining away off yours. He was aware he looked like a grumpy imbecile child and he utterly hated it; it wasn't like him to act so hurt over things he had never cared about otherwise.
"Levi do you think I'd rather be you because I'm taller? I thought you didn't really care about such superficial things?"
"I don't!"
Levi crouched down before the fireplace, his hand darting off to the metallic kettle. He hissed profoundly once he felt the intolerable heat lick over his hand.
With a snap he pulled it back, huffing a puff of air as he angrily shaked it vigorously for the heat of the fireplace to quickly spread away. He looked at you, lips pressed into a thin line, orbs blinking at you then the glove that was at the side of the fireplace.
"Then?"
With a soft smile and a chuckle, you passed the glove to him.
"I don't know!"
"Levi," You crouched down right next to him "did you hear those cadets the other day?"
"I did, you think they aren't right? Am I not too small for you?"
You couldn't help it; a teeny giggle escaped your chest. Your hands came to the floor, holding your weight on them as you pushed your weight down through your bum. With a loud thud, you say down the floor right next to Levi, your hand coming to the wider top of his back.
"I love you for who you are." You said and kissed the top of his shoulder.
"I know that."
Levi's heart skipped a beat at your words.
"And I love how I can push you into my chest and kiss the top of your head. And you hold me too, don't let some brats make you feel like you're less for me."
Your heavy breath was tainted by the soft whisper of your voice as you spoke quietly. Your eyes lingered onto levis palms as they worked to pour the hot water in to the teapot, then pushing and stirring the little blend of tea leaves onto the strainer. With a whoosh, you pressed your head to the top of his shoulder, rubbing your cheek slightly over the spot.
"I feel like such a runt." He clicked his tongue "Worrying about someone else's words."
"Oh come on, you have the right to feel that way too you know."
Levis hand came to cup the side of your face his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek slightly. His head came to rest on top of your head, the side of his head abrading with your own. A soft hum of satisfaction coming out of the depths of his chest. You caved into his touch, feeling your heart fall slowly to the depths of your chest, slipping between each and every cavity of your bones.
The soft warmth of the flames engulfed your relaxed forms, urging you to softly melt into each other, despite the slight awkwardness of your current position. Levi's eyes softened at processing your previous statements; your hand was rubbing soft circles on his back, your fingered lingered on every little scar of his despite the presence of his cotton button down shirt.
You loved him.
Who cared about any other insulting thing that had been said for his person.
You really loved him. And he loved you back.
As much as he'd liked to whine about feeling inadequate for a brief moment, his mind stayed fixated on the fact that you loved him for who he was. Whining about something as mundane as his height only felt unnecessary and bratty before the significance of those three small words.
"Come on, serve that tea so we can go lay on your bed and cuddle."
You couldn't see the way his lips curled up slightly at the warm tone of your voice.
"I need those cups first brat." He chuckled, still he didn't make any effort to move at all.
"But I don't want to move from your arms."
"Yeah," He sighed "I don't either."
Taglist: @sasageyowrites @ackermans-freedom-inc @puredivinity @levisbrat25 @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @ladyofpandemonium @lzrers
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stephreynaart · 3 years
Text
Gravity Falls - “Waiting”
Pop-Pop AU
Stan sits in a hospital waiting room, thinking about his life and the people he loves.
- - - -
This is kinda old, but I realized I never posted it on tumblr. Hope ya like it!
Lots of fluff, the only ships are Soos and Melody.
AO3 LINK
- - - -
It had a square aspect ratio. Ink pen and watercolor on white heat pressed cotton paper in a bland white frame. One single blue flower in a red vase with what looks like a yellowish shadow. One shadow going left, the other going right. The lack of confidence and inexperience was obvious, the lines were unfocused and jagged, the color plainly filled the shapes and gave no other visual interest to the image.
Below the frame was a small white card that read “Painting donated by Jessica Blaise from Gravity Falls Elementary School”
Stan scanned the painting at least 20 times while sitting in that chair. The too rough and too soft at the same time chair that had similar copies populating the almost white room he sat in. The wallpaper bouncing off light pinks and blues with tiny ducklings as a makeshift wainscoting was starting to irritate the old man. It was too bright, and the consistent buzz of the fluorescent lights seemed so loud. Stan adjusted himself in his chair, switching his crossed legs to a wider spread and leaned his head against the wall.
The only other stimulus in the room were a few posters promoting proper hand washing techniques, the play area with a small table and chairs with large blocks, crayons and that weird “game” with the metal wiring and wooden beads that’s in every waiting room Stan’s ever sat in. He played with the toys to give himself something to do after he read all the magazines. The novelty wore off fast.
The television mounted on the wall was airing some cooking channel with no sound and no subtitles. Looking at food when you haven’t eaten in a few hours was practically torture, so Stan had been averting his eyes.
There were other paintings on the wall, one was less of a painting, but instead a print of a painting. He doubted that the artist got any compensation from it, if they were still alive. The other was a charcoal drawing done by a student from the community college a town away. Another square, but the entire image was black, the brightest thing on the page was an intruding infant hand coming from the left with the arm fading into the dark background. The fingers seemingly mid-twitch and grabbing at something. The lighting was dynamic and interesting. Stan swore it was a drawing of a penis the first time he glanced at it, which resulted in his brother’s laughter. Stanley smiled at the memory, it was only a few hours ago, but he relishes any time he can make Stanford laugh.
Stan’s eyes darted at the door in the far corner when it opened suddenly. He eased back into his chair when the nurse crossed the room to talk with the receptionist. He couldn’t hear the conversation very well, but could tell they were just gossiping and making jokes. Nothing that was of his interest. So he looked back to the elementary school child’s painting and analyzed it again. His eyes were dry and he was tired. He wished he could sleep, the chair wasn’t comfortable enough and when he did managed to sleep, his neck was sore when he woke up. He was only lucky Ford let him use his shoulder as a pillow for a while. He looked to his left and noted the book his brother placed in the seat. It seemed thick and in what looked like Hebrew. Stan wasn’t very surprised Ford was fluent in the language they were acquainted with as children. Their grandparents on their father’s side were the last to be fully fluent in Hebrew. It was like his brother to be curious of their heritage, but Stan only remembered a few phrases and words he learned from holidays and special event when he had to recite anything in Temple.
Stan crossed his arms and glanced at the clock on the wall and let out an exasperated sigh. It had only been 10 minutes since he last checked the time. He wanted to be at home, be in his soft warm bed and getting ready to eat pancakes at this time in the morning.
He and Ford were on the porch of The Mystery Shack when Soos rushed them off to the hospital the yesterday afternoon. What he originally thought would be a couple of hours of waiting turned into almost twelve. Apparently labour can last a long time.
Stan wished he could be a witness for Soos and Melody like he was when Dipper and Mabel were born, but Melody wanted her privacy, which Stan could respect, but Soos wanted him there…..so he and Ford waited in this bright, annoyingly pastel waiting room, twiddling his thumbs awaiting the arrival of the new member of the mystery family. He was glad he was in at least comfortable clothes, some gray sweatpants and a sweater Mabel knitted for him that read “godfather”.
He was never clear on what the title entailed, but it was mentioned a few times by Soos’ grandmother and the kids insisted that Soos was intending to ask him. He hadn’t, but he didn’t protest Stan wearing the sweater. Whatever job godfathers had, he was willing to play the part if Soos were to ask him.
Stan looked at the double doors a few feet away that lead out of the waiting room and into the halls. His brother left to find something for them to eat, but was taking his sweet time. The turkey being basted on the television was no help in aiding his growling stomach.
He distracted himself by returning his thoughts to Soos and Melody. Just down the hall they were experiencing the strange and beautiful phenomenon that was witnessing the arrival of a brand new person. Stan remembered the feeling so clearly. His entire life he’s felt the presence of human beings. It’s inherent in most people to feel when someone is in the room with you, the other soul sharing the same space as you. Imagine being in a room with a set amount of people and someone else comes in, but imagine they came in without using a doorway. Just appearing seemingly out of thin air. Suddenly another person is with you, and they’re brand new to the world, a life full of potential and power. Yes, today is indeed a happy day, but no amount of positive thinking would ease Stan’s nerves. His foot began to bounce and his hands unconsciously began to fiddle with each other. He didn’t want to think anything would go wrong with Soos’ baby, but anything can happen and life is so fragile, especially at the start of it.
He recalled his nephew’s nervousness the day Dipper and Mabel were born. His hands were shaking and he was constantly checking on his wife and asking the doctors loads of questions. He didn’t fully understand the twins’ father’s behavior until the end of that day.
Mabel’s birth was swift and easy. Her mother only needed to push one and a half times before she was here. It was as if she was eager to meet everyone waiting for her. She cried like most babies do, but Stan could’ve sworn they were tears of joy. While Mabel was greeted with, “hello, beautiful”, “hi, sweetie” and “she’s perfect”, Her brother’s introduction to world started with, “what’s wrong?”, “wait, let me hold him”, and “he’s not moving”. Dipper was rushed out of the room before his mother got a chance to look at him. Stan managed to catch a glimpse of the horrifyingly blue tint on his great nephew’s tiny face. The memory still gave him chills. He remembered how much he wanted to hold Mabel, who began to fuss and cry, obviously missing her brother. He was terrified at the prospect of another incomplete set of twins in their family. After the longest 30 minute of his life, Stan’s great-nephew returned with a bright pink face, wailing with all the power his little lungs could produce. Once the twins were reunited in their mother’s arms, they settled down almost instantly. The doctors told their parents Dipper was significantly lighter in weight than his sister, but both were very strong and healthy. Every so often Stan thinks about Dipper and how much he has impacted his life. His thoughts lead to darker places and he questions if Ford would be here if Dipper wasn’t there to find the third journal. He shook his head as a cold shiver went up his spine.
Stan did his best to distract himself from revisiting the scare that Dipper caused him 16 years ago.
16 years…..17 in August
Stan blinked. The squishy, bright faces that stayed with him that first summer had changed significantly. They stayed in contact all year round and visited every summer since they were 12. But every in-person meeting was always a shock. Dipper was developing the square jaw Stan, both his brothers and nephew shared. He started to regularly wear glasses their second summer with the Stans. Poor kid will grow up looking like Filbrick like the rest of the Pines men. He reminded Stan of Ford at that age.
And Mabel…..
Stan will never get over how much she looks like his mother. It didn’t strike him until Soos and Melody’s wedding and she put her hair in a bun. She’s calmed her hyperactivity down a bit, but not by a lot, she still brightens his day with her wit and creativity. They’ve both matured physically, but not much has changed personality wise and they still acted like big children when they’re around each other. Stan loved them very much, and wished he could see them more often. He wondered what the future held for all of them. Would they still visit town after going to college? Would they move here? Or somewhere else?
He’s had several conversations with them to see how they’re managing the prospect of separating. They’re much better at communicating than he and Ford were and they seem actually excited to have some independence. It made Stan nervous, but he was sure their close relationship wouldn’t suffer.
Wendy chose to be elsewhere for the next few years. She and her friends booked a plane ticket and plan to backpack and hitchhike around Europe and the UK. Stan hopes they stay safe and watch out for each other. Lotta weirdos in Amsterdam. She was set to leave in the coming days, Wendy wanted to wait until today arrived so she could meet Soos and Melody’s kid before going away for who knows how long.
A tap on the shoulder woke Stan from his deep thoughts. His brother arrived with some warm sub sandwiches and coffee.
“Any word yet?, he asked Stan
“Nothin’ yet”, Stan felt helpless not having any clue how Soos and Melody were doing.
Stanford took his seat next to Stanley and they both silently enjoyed their late breakfast. Since arriving they’ve witnessed families reuniting and going past the door in the far corner to meet their children, grandchildren or siblings. Stan looked at the clock again. How has it only been another 5 minutes? He sighed, leaned back and finished the rest of his sub. One hand holding the sandwich, the other went back to gripping the arm rest, then a six fingered hand went down to rest on top of it. Stan let go of the armrest and tangled his fingers between Ford’s and held onto it with a, hopefully not too tight, grip. It was like an anchor to reality, much better at easing his anxieties than any words could. Over the past 4 years, Stan and Ford’s bond grew stronger. Stan still feared one day he would wake up and find himself still in that basement surrounded by broken machinery and languages he didn’t understand. He hasn’t yet, and was enjoying the time he had left with his twin. Stan took a moment to look at his brother again, Ford made eye contact and smiled then continued to read his book. Hands still intertwined
Stans thoughts went back to Soos…
It amazed Stan how much he had grown and it still baffled him that Soos idolized him as much as he does. Before Soos, Stan had no one. His brother was….gone, the rest of the family didn’t talk to him much outside of the holidays and special occasion. There hadn’t been any sense of consistency in Stan’s life for years, decades even, until he hired the chubby little kid he barely glanced at one random Saturday. Soos always arrived to work early, sometimes with breakfast for both of them. Stan didn’t know how much he needed a reliable companion until he had it and he enjoyed the 10 years he had with that kid… or man he should say. Here he was…a few rooms away, becoming a father.
Stan used to daydream a lot about the prospect of having kids when he was younger. He’s was always good with them when he had the chance to babysit his nephew, then later Dipper and Mabel when they were toddlers. He loved having kids in his house that first summer. He loved the energy and the sense of adventure the twins brought. They gave him a sense of purpose and belonging he hadn’t felt in years. He wished he was brave enough to have his own children. Not that he was ever with anyone long enough to want to have kids with him. He supposed it was for the best that he didn’t subject a child to homelessness or an unhappy marriage. He was also terrified at the idea. His dad used to say having kids ruined his life. He wondered who his father was before his older brother was born. Did they really ruin his life? Stan often wondered if he would be like his own dad if he has children of his own. Would he change and become that annoyed parent that resenting his children?
He thought about Soos again
That was probably the closest to parenthood he ever experienced. The first time he felt like one was when Soos asked him for homework help after closing. He initially told Soos no, he wasn’t exactly smart and didn’t think he would be any help. It apparently upset the kid, so Stan sighed and gave it a try. It was fairly simple middle school math, he didn’t remember everything, but helped Soos do more than half of it. Soos thanked him and went home happy. Stan felt weirdly proud, he was glad he made a small difference and managed to teach Soos something he didn’t even know he knew.
The second time was when Soos was a teenager. His grandmother wasn’t able to teach Soos to drive, since she had forgotten how and her late husband used to do the driving, she mostly walked everywhere. Soos offered to work for free so Stan could teach him. Stan loved driving and found teaching Soos cathartic. He was a fast and eager learner, he only bumped Stan’s car once while trying to figure out parallel parking. Little did Soos know that he was getting paid for his normal work hours. Stan just put it away long enough to help buy the kid some old used truck in the junkyard for getting his license. They fixed the truck up and in only a few weeks it was ready to be on the road. Soos has taken good care of it and it’s still his ride to this day
Stan was very proud of Soos. He taught the kid some basic self defense and managed to be a decent influence in his life. Soos at least has his priorities straight.
Stan was even glad to see that Soos was willing to question him. When the portal was reaching the final countdown, he didn’t hesitate to protect the kids from him when he thought Stan was dangerous. He didn’t know, none of them did, so he didn’t blame Soos for distrusting him. He hoped he never had to betray him again. They both had crappy dads, and Stan knew how Soos saw him. Stan was never really sure if he reciprocated those feelings. It felt natural to act the part, but to put a label as important as “dad” on Stan was daunting. Soos definitely deserves better than what he was given, Stan wasn’t sure if he was it.
Stan looked up at the familiar voices running towards him from the double doors.
“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” Mabel waved to them
The two teenagers and Wendy walked in holding a balloon and various toys. They took some seats across from the Stans and asked how everyone was doing and if the baby arrived yet.
“Not yet, hopefully soon” Ford answered
Stan relaxed and silently enjoyed his family’s company. He laid his head back and leaned slightly on Ford to rest for a minute. His eyes shut as he listened to the kids joke around and talk amongst themselves. He squeezed Ford’s hand one more time before drifting off.
He knew he should’ve tried sleeping earlier, he wasn’t out for more than 15 minutes when Soos came into the waiting room. Stan’s eyes shot open and he was on his feet faster than he did when he was being chased by angry costumers as a door to door salesman. Soos’ red eyes sagged and he seemed exhausted, but carried a proud, wide smile across his face. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.
“It’s a boy”, he squeaked, “mom and baby are okay”
Dipper and Mabel were first to start the hugs, and the room filled with cheers of congratulations and love. Stan felt light as a feather giving Soos a hug and joking about child labor.
“Can we see him?”, Mabel bounced with anticipation
“Yeah, dudes!”, Soos gestured everyone past the corner door and into the suite. “But only for a little while, Melody has to sleep”
The room was small, dimly lit and warm. The Pines crew collectively lowered their voices as Melody came into view on the bedding holding a bundle of blankets decorated with small yellow ducklings. She was leaned back on a large pillow, covered in blankets and toted a soft smile on her face. Soos stroked her hair and picked up his little son to show to the Pines’. The younger twins got a look at him first,
Mabel squealed and cooed at the tiny infant. Then Wendy, who said hi to the baby and told Soos she’d make sure to send him gifts while she was away
“What’s his name?”, Mabel asked Melody
“I named him after my dad”, Melody replied, “Jacob”. She smiled sadly at the memory of the father she lost the year before.
Soos approached the Stans, Ford smiled and complimented the couple on a having such beautiful little boy, but shot Soos a look, who silently replied with another one. Something was up.
Finally Stan got a look at baby Jacob. “Wow” Stan smiled, patting Soos’ arm. “He looks exactly like you”
Soos laughed, “really? I think he looks like Melody”, there was a short silence before Soos spoke up again.
“Do you want to hold him, Mr Pines?”
Stan looked at Soos and smiled, “heh, sure”. He held his arms out. Soos lowered his arms to pass the baby to Stan, who scrunched his face up and started to fuss. Stan took the infant and managed to hold him with one arm. He bounced and shushed little Jacob until he calmed down. “Heya kid”, He’s held babies dozens of times, but something felt different about this one. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Stan felt an almost magnetic pull towards him. Jacob settled comfortably against Stan and continued his rest. Stan softly beamed at the tiny person in his arms.
“Hey, Stan?”
Stan lifted an eyebrow and looked at Soos, who was fidgeting with his hands and nervously smiling.
“Uh..”, he paused, taking in the sight of Stan holding his child. “You know about my dad”, Soos looked at Ford again, who shrugged and nodded. Stan studied Ford’s face, who’s eyes strayed away as he hid a small smile. Soos got his attention again.
“You uh…he wasn’t…”, Soos choked up, his voice strained a bit, “I met you when I was probably the loneliest I ever was in my entire life”. Stan pictured the little boy he hired on the spot, he didn’t remember him until Soos showed up at his door step the next day ready to work. He didn’t know how much that quick, thoughtless decision would change his life.
Soos perked up and walked across the room to a table and picked up the piece of paper sitting on it. Soos glanced at it, then at Stan and smiled, gaining some emotional strength it seemed.
“You mean a lot me”, Soos, “you were there when I really needed it, you gave me a job, taught me just about everything I know. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that”
Stan got a bit nervous, Was this him asking to be the godfather?Everyone was silent and curiously watching. Soos held his hand out and handed the paper to Stan. He adjusted his arm to properly hold Jacob in his arm and took it. Stan flipped the page and noticed it was the baby’s birth certificate. Stan eyes bounced off the page and read the various information: birthdate, weight, parents, but he froze when he read the full name. Stan’s wide eyes questioningly studied Soos’ face.
“Are you…”, Stan felt his own throat tightening, crap. Come on, not in front of everyone “really?”, he asked. Soos gave a genuine nod and sniffed.
“I uh” Soos cleared his throat, “I was wondering, since Jacob doesn’t have one…if you wanted to be…. his grandpa?
There it was
Stan felt dizzy and took a small step back before remembering who was in his hands and regained his balance. Ford came to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Stan decide not to look at his brother and chose to stare forward, then his eyes went back to Soos, who look deflated. Oh man. Stan was terrified, he didn’t want to say no and hurt Soos, but if he said yes….he wasn’t sure what made him so nervous. The entire concept sounded so alien to him, like he didn’t deserve the title. He always considered Soos, Melody and their son a part of his family. But to bare a title like “grandpa”, had to mean he had children that that children. That he was already a parent without his knowledge. It all felt so natural to want to lean into this and become part of this family like Soos wanted.
He heard something make a noise from beneath himself. Stan looked down at little Jacob, who was mid yawn. The baby’s mouth grew wide opens and inhaled, scrunching up his face and suddenly shut. Suddenly two tiny eyes opened for just a few seconds, enough time for Stan to make eye contact before Jacob shut them and got comfortable again
Everything was different now.
Stan didn’t notice how quiet the room had gotten nor the tears forming in his eyes. Stunned by beauty and overcome with pride and a sense of purpose. The pride he felt teaching Soos math, how to drive and attending his graduation all combined just looking at the perfect being in his arms. If he said yes, he would want everything that came with it. Stan lifted the birth certificate up to read the name again.
Jacob Stanley Ramirez
“Y-Yes”, he heard a shaken voice say, almost not realizing it was his own “of course”. He looked at Soos, tears in his eyes and a bright smile on his face. He still wasn’t sure if he deserved this, but Stan wanted it. He wanted it all. Why not indulge just this once? He gave the certificate to Ford and used his now free hand to pull Soos into a hug. Gently sandwiching his…..grandson in between him……and his son.
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jishyucks · 3 years
Text
Eight Count ‣ lmh
‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn
‣ wc: 10.8k
‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners
‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!
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i.
You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.
It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.
Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.
Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.
"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.
You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.
After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.
A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?
Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.
It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.
"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."
You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.
Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.
Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."
"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"
"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.
"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.
You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."
This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"
Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."
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ii.
"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"
"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.
"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"
"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.
"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.
You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.
This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."
Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.
"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.
It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.
The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.
"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.
"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.
As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.
"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.
Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"
Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.
"What else do you think?"
Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.
"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.
"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.
"Easy for you to say," you sighed.
From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.
You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.
Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.
"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."
"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.
Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?
Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.
"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.
"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.
Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"
"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."
You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.
"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."
"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.
You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.
Right?
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iii.
"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.
Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.
Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"
"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.
"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.
"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.
Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"
"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"
"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.
"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.
Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.
"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."
"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?
Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"
Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"
"I'm…?"
"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.
"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.
Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.
But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.
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iv.
The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.
"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.
"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."
"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.
"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."
"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.
"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."
"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."
Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"
Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."
Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.
Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.
"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.
Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."
Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"
"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.
"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."
"But professor–"
Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.
Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.
At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."
"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."
The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.
"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.
The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.
"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.
"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.
"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.
"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.
Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.
Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.
"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.
"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"
You replied.
"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.
"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."
"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"
Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.
The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.
"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.
"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.
You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.
He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.
"Done staring at me yet?"
You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.
"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."
An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.
You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.
"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."
You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."
Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"
You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."
"And?"
"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."
"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"
"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."
"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."
"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.
"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."
"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.
"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.
The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.
Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.
Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.
The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.
Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.
He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.
"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.
You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.
"What the–"
"Join me!"
You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?
"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"
"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.
"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.
"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.
When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.
Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.
Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.
You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.
Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.
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v.
There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.
Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.
When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.
"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"
Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.
This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?
Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.
Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.
"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.
"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.
He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.
As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.
"No one."
None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.
Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.
"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.
Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."
"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.
You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"
"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"
"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.
Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."
Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.
You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.
"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.
"You already know," you elbowed him.
Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."
You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"
"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.
"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"
Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.
"No," you say flatly.
"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."
"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."
When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.
-
"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.
"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.
"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.
The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.
Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.
Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.
Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.
You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"
You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"
"Studying?"
"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."
Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."
Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.
Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.
"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.
Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"
"Just don't be loud."
Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.
You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.
The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.
Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.
"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."
He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.
"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.
"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.
Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."
Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'
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vi.
Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.
There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.
"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.
"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.
You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?
Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.
"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.
Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.
"And?"
"And what?" Minho ridiculed.
"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.
Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"
The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."
Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"
"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."
"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.
"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."
"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."
"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"
"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.
Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.
"What?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.
"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.
"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.
"I'm not lying."
"You staring at me says otherwise."
"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"
Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.
-
Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.
You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.
"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."
You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."
She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.
The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.
You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.
You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.
You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.
You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.
"Y/N?"
Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.
"Minho? What in the world?"
He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."
"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"
Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.
"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.
"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.
"Weren't you just leaving?"
"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.
"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."
"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.
"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.
"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"
"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.
"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."
Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."
No judgment.
The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.
"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.
"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"
Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?
"Because you care."
You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"
"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.
How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.
You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"
"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."
"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.
"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.
"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.
"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.
Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"
There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.
"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?
"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."
"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.
"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.
"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"
"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.
Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.
His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"
Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"
Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."
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Bonus:
"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.
"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."
"Well, you look very handsome."
Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.
"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.
He was right.
"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.
"We shall."
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Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3
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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years
Text
There's Sand Everywhere!
(quick shoutout to @fires-of-ninjago for the title idea and inspiration for this- you remember that ask game where people suggested titles for fics and you had to come up with a story to go along with it? Well, he sent in this title, and I came up with this, and liked it so much that I screenshotted it and- here we are!)
Prompts: Summer and Heist
Word Count: 7,922
Characters: The whole gang (including Pixal) :)
Timeline: Between seasons 12 and 13
Trigger Warnings: none (holy shit that's never happened before-)
Summary: It was just supposed to be a day off. A simple beach day. But when your family consists of six ninja and a samurai, including a nindroid convinced he’s a detective, his reluctant sidekick, an aquaphobe, a girl who can command the sea, an unassuming teen who seems to attract every animal he crosses paths with, and a bunch of argumentative idiots, nothing is ever that easy.
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Read on FFN.net
Read on Ao3
Tumblr work under the cut
“We,” Kai proclaimed, surveying the room, “Need a day off.”
Lloyd shrieked at the fire ninja’s sudden outburst, falling out of his chair. Jay broke into snickers, and Lloyd shot him a glare.
“Kai,” Zane sighed, “get off the table.”
Kai stuck his tongue out at the nindroid, but hopped down, anyway. “Look at you guys!” Kai waved his hands at the group for emphasis. Papers fluttered to the ground where Lloyd had knocked them in his fall, Jay and Nya were sitting on the ground, surrounded by stacks of books tall enough to be mistaken for some kind of fort, Pixal was gathering some of the papers that had gone everywhere, while Cole and Zane had only just paused in their task of boxing up and carrying crates to the far side of the room. “Filing documents and organizing? Boooring.”
“Tasks which you’ve been a big help with, by the way,” Lloyd grumbled, as Cole offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet. He turned back to the desk, shuffling papers off of the keyboard of his laptop, the screen filled with lines of script and dozens of files that made Kai's brain hurt just to look at.
Nya pushed her reading glasses up her nose. “Jay and I technically aren’t working. We chose to do this of our own free will.”
Kai rolled his eyes at her. “What kind of psychopaths read for fun?”
Jay kicked his leg out, aiming for Kai’s ankle, but Cole quickly stepped between them, stopping the conflict before it could escalate into anything worse.
“We’re not reading them, we’re sorting them in order from most potentially useful to least so. They’re mechanics and engineering books. You never know when they might come in handy in a pinch.”
“Oh, because that’s so much more interesting. If you guys wanna spend all your free time geeking out, fine, what do I care. But what about the rest of you? C’mon, Lloydster. You don’t really wanna spend your entire day doing this,” he gestured at the laptop and paper-strewn desk- “do you?”
“It’s not about whether or not I want to. This stuff is important, Kai.”
“Lloyd’s right,” Zane agreed. “With all the crazy missions we’ve been on lately, we’ve neglected all our paperwork, and taking care of the Monastery.”
“It’s because we’ve been gone so long that we need a break!” Kai argued. “We just got done saving the entire city from an evil video game AI! If that’s not worth celebrating, I don’t know what is.”
“Technically,” Nya remarked, not even glancing up from the book she was skimming, “That was Jay who did that.”
Kai spluttered, ignoring the smug look on Jay’s face. “Okay, yeah, but we helped! And what about Aspheera? Or the Never Realm? That was all of us. And we didn’t have time to properly recuperate from that before we got launched right into Prime Empire!”
Pixal’s brow furrowed. “Y’know, he has a point…”
A frown flitted across Zane’s face. “I suppose we have been working for a long time…”
“That’s what I’ve been saying! Come on, let’s do something fun.”
“Not video games,” Cole groaned. “Jay and I spent the last three days playing a Lava Zombies tournament, and I’m all gamed-out.”
“No, let’s actually go somewhere. Like the-”
“The library!” Jay pitched.
“Or the museum!” Zane suggested.
“No!” Kai snapped. “Man, you guys are so lame. I meant somewhere fun. We should go to-”
“The beach!” Nya cried suddenly, standing up so quickly that she sent a pile of books toppling over. “Brilliant idea, Kai!”
“Wait, no,” he yelped. “That’s not what I was going to-”
But no one heard him. They were already scrambling to their feet, murmuring excitedly to one another.
“Guys, wait!” he cried. “Why would you want to go to the beach? It’s all sandy, and wet, and-”
“Don’t worry, Kai,” Nya giggled, “we won’t let the ocean hurt you.”
“That’s not-” he felt himself turning red as the others laughed. “That’s not what I meant! I just thought… wouldn’t laser tag or something be a lot more fun?”
The others glanced at each other, uncertain. Zane stepped forward. “Let’s take a vote. All in favor of laser tag, raise your hands.”
Kai lifted his hand, but no one else did. He scowled at them.
“And all in favor of the beach?”
Six hands went up.
“Seems like we have a clear winner. Let’s get going, shall we?”
---
“Do you have the towels?”
“All here!”
“What about the sunscreen?”
“Hold on- Jay, did you grab the sunscreen?”
“What?”
Lloyd cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling louder. “Did you grab the sunscreen?”
“Oh yeah, it’s here! Wait, do you have my-”
“Your what?” Lloyd called, walking over to him, passing Pixal and Zane as they came out of the kitchen. The female nindroid sighed.
“Can’t anything get done around here without everyone making such a racket?”
“Nope,” Nya elbowed her playfully. “When you’ve been with these idiots as long as I have, you get used to it.”
Pixal’s eyes widened. “I can’t imagine ever being used to all this.”
Nya smiled. “Did I mention I’m slightly deaf?”
“We finished making the picnic,” Zane told her, holding out the basket he was carrying. “Is everyone ready to go?”
Nya eyed the guys, who were running around the Monastery, barely avoiding tripping over one another. “‘Ready’ is an overstatement.”
“Hold your horses, we’re almost done,” Cole grunted, heaving the large beach bag over to them. “Have a little faith in us, Nya.”
Nya put her hand on her hip, waiting- and a second later, there was a crashing sound followed by an angry chorus of yells from Kai, Lloyd, and Jay.
Cole grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, maybe you’re right to not have any faith in us.”
---
After an intense, fifteen-minute argument about what mode of transportation they would take, they ended up deciding on the city bus, and finally, finally got out the door. The bus ride went off without a hitch, for once, (except for a brief panic about not having the proper change for the bus fare, but luckily Zane had a few extra dollars on him), and before Nya knew it, they were staking out an area on Ninjago City beach. She was beginning to think this could actually work out.
Maybe.
“Check out my abs, dude.”
“They’re the same as last time.”
“Are not! I’m way more shredded than last time we went swimming.”
“Okay, that’s just a straight-up lie. I saw you sneak that extra piece of pie last night.”
“You better not be disrespecting my muscles, Flat Stanley.”
“Hey! I’m way more muscly than I used to be.”
“Are you kidding? We call you ‘green bean’ for a reason, and it’s not just because you’re the green ninja. You’re a twig!”
“I’m a twig? Have you seen Jay?”
“Hey, don’t rope me into this, green machine, and, for your information, I weigh a whole fifteen pounds more than you!”
“Yeah, well, you’re also two years older than me!”
“I think the lesson we need to learn here is that neither of you have abs anywhere near as pronounced as mine-”
Zane sighed, rolling his eyes. “Here, guys,” he held out a pouch to the group, “this is a waterproof pouch, you can store all your valuables in here.”
They quickly filled the pouch with phones, watches, and wallets. However, as Lloyd pulled back, he tripped over Jay’s foot, and half the guys collapsed into a pile, groaning.
“Jay! Get your foot out of my face!”
“Right after you get your elbow out of my ribs!”
Nya turned away from them, shaking her head. Glancing at Pixal, she asked, “Wanna help me get set up?”
The nindroid nodded, and they pulled the large picnic blanket out of the bag, unfolding it to lay it across the sand.
“Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon,” Kai cried, “You get back here right this instant!”
Nya looked up from the blanket to see Kai running through the sand after Lloyd, his feet sinking into the sand with each step, making it difficult for him to retain his balance. He waved a bottle of sunscreen at the green ninja. “It’s sunny out today! And you know how easily you burn!”
“No way!” Lloyd whined. “You always make me stay out of the water for at least twenty minutes to let it set, and it’s way too hot for me to wait that long! I wanna go swimming now.”
Kai lunged for him, and Lloyd yelped, barely dodging out of the way.
“Over here, Lloyd!” Jay cried, already wading into the shallows of the ocean. “He won’t follow you into the water!”
Lloyd hurried after him, splashing up water as he went, accidentally splattering Kai and causing the red ninja to flinch back with a yelp. Sure enough, he froze at the water’s edge, glaring at Jay and Lloyd, where they stood, only about ten feet away, laughing at him.
Zane rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “They’re both going to get skin cancer, aren’t they?”
“At the very least, they’re going to be bright red tomatoes,” Cole laughed. “Oh, it’s going to be a blast when they take showers.”
Zane stared at him, horrified. “Please don’t let Jay do that again. He had the worst blisters, last time-”
Cole held up his hands. “It was a joke, Zane! A joke!”
Zane narrowed his eyes and didn’t reply.
Nya laughed, grabbing Pixal’s hand. “Come on. Wanna go bodyboarding with me?”
Pixal glanced at her. “I don’t know how.”
“That’s fine.” Nya stepped on the board, flipping it up into her hand and handing it to Pixal, before grabbing a second one for herself. “I can teach you!”
“Thanks, Nya.”
As they walked down towards the shore, they passed Kai and Cole, who had finally managed to get Jay and Lloyd out of the water. Cole had his arms locked around Jay, preventing him from running away as Kai slathered sunscreen across his face. Lloyd was sitting in the sand beside him, pouting, his face already smeared in white.
Nya grinned at him. “Can you guys handle yourselves for twenty minutes if Pix and I go out bodyboarding?”
Lloyd stuck his tongue out at her, and Kai rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine, Nya. I think you’re forgetting we save the city on a regular basis? We’re perfectly capable.”
Nya put a hand near Pixal’s ear, whispering loudly into it. “Betcha anything the beach will be on fire by the time we get back.”
The two ran off, giggling at the sight of Kai’s smoldering glare, before he could set them on fire.
---
To Kai’s credit, he did not set the beach on fire, or anything, for that matter, but when Nya and Pixal returned, they found him and Cole shoveling sand onto Zane, who was chest-deep by this point.
“Zane!” Pixal exclaimed. “Are you alright?”
“When Kai told me he had something fun to show me, this wasn’t quite what I had imagined.”
“Aww, come on Zane!” Kai grinned. “I’m having a great time.”
Pixal shook her head, and stepped forward, grabbing Zane’s hand and pulling him up, sending sand cascading down everywhere. Cole and Kai groaned.
“Aww, come on, Pix, that took forever!” Cole muttered.
“Yeah, we were gonna shape it into a mermaid tail. Don’t you know how funny that would’ve been?”
“Humor is subjective.” Zane rubbed at his wrists. “Augh, now I’m going to have sand in my gears for weeks.” Shooting a glare at Kai, he added, “I’ll remember this the next time you ditch your swimming lessons.”
“Hey!” Kai yelped. “That’s totally different! Sand is warm, and solid, and most importantly, not dangerous!”
“You could suffocate,” Zane pointed out.
Kai scowled. “You’re a nindroid, you wouldn’t have suffocated.”
“You’re related to an elemental master of water. You won’t drown.”
“Being related to a master of water and being a master of water are two very different things! I control fire, not water, I can’t do anything to protect myself.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “You’re so lame. Remind me again why we brought our friend with aquaphobia to the beach?”
“Technically,” Zane said, raising a finger, “the word you’re looking for is thalassophobia. Kai doesn’t fear water in general, only large bodies, such as-”
“It was his idea,” Nya interrupted. “If it weren’t for him, we’d still be at the Monastery, filing papers.”
“I never suggested the beach!” Kai snapped. “That was your idea!”
“Yeah, well, your suggestions were lame. The beach was the obvious choice.”
“Hey,” Pixal interjected, suddenly realizing they were missing a couple of people. “Where are Jay and Lloyd?”
Cole sighed, pointing up towards their stuff, where Jay and Lloyd were struggling with a large, yellow duck inflatable that was very much not inflated at the moment. Jay had his lips around the mouthpiece, his face red.
“Blow harder, Jay,” Lloyd insisted, hovering by his side. “You’re hardly doing anything!”
Jay pulled his head back, breathing out heavily as the redness faded from his cheeks. “I’d like to see you do better! You’d probably pass out after a minute.”
“Would not!” Lloyd snatched the floaty away from him, blowing hard into the mouthpiece, putting even less air into the floaty than Jay had. His face reddened as he huffed desperately, although he still wasn’t making much progress. After a few moments, Jay pulled it away from him.
“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want you to actually pass out.”
Lloyd glared at him, panting. “I wasn’t… going to… pass out.”
Jay sighed, grabbing the inflatable and staring at what looked to be the eyes and a very flat, crumpled-looking beak. “At this rate, we’re never going to get Mr. Quackington blown up.”
Lloyd’s nose wrinkled. “Mr. Quackington?”
Jay blinked at him. “Yeah, that’s his name.”
“No, it’s not! His name is Mr. Waddles!”
“Mr. Waddles? What kind of juvenile name is that?”
“Oh, like Mr. Quackington is any better!”
“It is! It’s loads better!”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Is so!”
“It’s not!” Lloyd snapped, green energy sparking between his fingers. Jay glanced down at them thoughtfully. “Hey, what if…”
Lloyd was evidently catching on to Jay’s train of thought, his eyes lighting up. “We can use my powers to inflate Mr. Waddles!”
Jay narrowed his eyes. “Quackington.”
Lloyd bared his teeth, the small fangs glinting. “Waddles.”
Jay sighed. “Okay, whatever. We can use your powers to inflate Mr. Waddles.”
Lloyd grinned widely, whether about the promise of getting his inflated duck or having won the name debate with Jay, Pixal couldn’t tell. He held up a hand and formed a basketball-sized sphere of green energy. Jay’s eyes widened, and he held the mouthpiece up to the energy. Lloyd channeled it inside, watching with glee as the duck puffed up, the yellow plastic slowly tinging green, making the duck look like he was about to be sick.
Zane took a step forward, holding his hand out. “Lloyd, wait-”
There was a sharp snapping noise as the floaty popped, and Lloyd and Jay cried out in horror as the yellow pieces of plastic fluttered to the ground. Lloyd fell to his knees, gripping the busted plastic and wailing, and Jay landed next to him, crying, “No! Mr. Waddles, you were so young!”
“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” Lloyd sniffed. “He was my best friend in the whole world.”
Kai threw up his hands. “Great. You spend the last several years of your life looking out for him only to get replaced by his inflatable plastic duck.”
“Oookay,” Nya said, walking over to Jay and Lloyd and ushering them towards the picnic blanket. “Someone’s obviously been out in the sun too long. Go sit under the umbrella and let’s have something to eat.”
“Good idea,” Zane agreed. “I’m sure we’re all getting hungry. Jay, could you grab the picnic basket? It’s right behind you.”
The lightning ninja grabbed the basket, peering inside briefly as he carried it towards them. “I hope you brought the Pringles. I could really go for some of those right now- augh!”
Before anyone could stop him, Jay was falling to the ground, the basket flying out of his hands and landing sideways in the sand.
“Jay!” Kai cried. “Look what you’ve done to our picnic!”
“Hey! That was totally your fault! Why did you leave your shoes right in the middle of the sand, perfectly positioned for someone to trip over?”
“Why were you clumsy enough to get in the way of my shoes?”
“Guys, guys, it’s okay,” Zane assured. Walking over, he carefully lifted the basket out of the sand. “I’m sure it’s still salvageable.”
“Yeah, but now all our food is going to taste like sand,” Lloyd moaned.
“Lloyd, the food barely touched the sand,” Nya pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter. Every time you go to the beach, if the food gets even remotely close to the sand, it always gets sand in it. Every time. It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe.”
“Well, I think you’ll survive,” she said, passing Lloyd a sandwich and a bag of pretzels. Lloyd took them, but narrowed his eyes.
“Brings a whole new meaning to the word ‘sandwich.’”
“Just eat your food, mister.”
Lloyd shot her a glare, but grudgingly obliged. As Pixal bit into her own sandwich, she realized Lloyd was right, she could feel granules of sand between her teeth as she chewed.
“Hey… at least it adds a little crunch, right?” Cole grinned.
Kai grimaced. “Next time, I elect we don’t let Jay anywhere near the picnic basket.”
Jay chucked a grape at him, but Kai turned at the last second, catching it in his mouth. “Ha!” His gleeful expression faded as he caught sight of something behind Jay. “Um, Lloyd, you have someone you wanna introduce us to?”
The group turned to see a seagull had approached them, tilting its head where it stood only a couple feet away from Lloyd. The green ninja was staring at the bird with wide eyes, an awed expression on his face.
“Lloyd,” Nya sighed, “please don’t tell me you fed it.”
“He’s not an it,” Lloyd snapped. “His name is Scully.”
“Great.” Nya rubbed her hands over her face. “We’re already into name territory.”
“Scully?” Kai’s nose wrinkled. “Isn’t that the name of the seagull from The Little Mermaid?”
“No, that’s Scuttle,” Lloyd sniffed. “They’re completely different.”
“Lloyd,” Pixal scolded, reaching for Lloyd’s wrist just as he tossed another chunk of his sandwich at the seagull, “Feeding wildlife is not a good idea, it can be dangerous-”
Lloyd shrieked suddenly as the bird launched itself at Lloyd’s face. He scrambled to his feet, screaming, and Kai lunged forward, pushing the others out of the way. “Move, move!”
“Get it off me, get it off me!” Lloyd shrieked as the bird’s wings flapped in his face, sending feathers everywhere.
“Blast it with your powers!” Kai called, looking worried but keeping a respectable distance.
“I can’t! He’s on my face!”
“Well, I can’t do it, I’ll set you on fire! Nya, you do it!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” the water ninja spat through gritted teeth, globes of water already forming in her hands. “I just need to get a clear shot! For the love of… Lloyd, stop moving so much!”
Lloyd hardly seemed to hear her. “He’s going to claw my eyes out,” he wailed, batting weakly at the creature.
“Nya!”
Nya quickly thrust her hands forward, sending a large ball of water at Lloyd’s head, drenching him and the seagull. The bird squawked angrily, falling to the ground.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Nya and Kai darted over to him, Nya taking his face in her hands as Kai peered over her shoulder. A small red scratch stretched across his left cheek, but apart from that, he appeared unharmed, just frazzled.
“Dude!” Kai cried. “You just got attacked. By a seagull!”
“It owned you!”
Lloyd shot Jay a glare. “Did not.”
“You should have seen your face!” Jay laughed. “Oh wait, you couldn’t- there was a bird in the way!”
Lloyd crossed his arms. “I’d like to remind you how you reacted that time when my uncle set that berserk chicken on us.”
“The chicken had lightning powers. Hardly comparable to a simple seafowl, bud.”
“Ugh, I hope this doesn’t get infected,” Nya muttered, running her finger along the scratch. “We should probably get you checked for rabies when we get home.”
“Nya, I’m fine,” Lloyd groaned, pushing her off. “A seagull isn’t going to give me rabies.”
Nya shrugged. “With your luck, I can never be sure.”
“This is why you don’t give food to wild animals, Lloyd, it makes them bolder-”
“Watch out, Lloyd!” Jay shrieked suddenly, and they whipped around to see the seagull had caught its second wind, squawking as it charged at Lloyd.
Lloyd shrieked, taking off down the beach with the seagull in pursuit. Nya sighed, putting a hand on her head. Kai grinned, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Do you think he’ll learn his lesson?”
“No,” Nya said without hesitation. “Absolutely not. That’s the sad part.”
“Hey,” Cole said, pointing a finger down the beach. “The volleyball court’s just opened up. You guys wanna play?”
“Sure. Tell Lloyd he can join us when he gets that seagull taken care of.”
Nya glanced towards the green ninja, who was currently lobbing balls of energy at the bird and missing by an embarrassingly wide berth. “Looks like it could be a while.”
---
“Great job, team!” Nya cheered, high-fiving Pixal and shooting a grin at Cole. “Although, if I’m being honest, the rest of you didn’t put up much of a competition.”
“Hey, don’t look at me!” Kai snapped. “I was carrying the team! Jay, Lloyd, were you planning on helping me anytime soon?”
“I was trying!” Jay insisted. “But you kept getting in my way!”
“Because every time I let you get the ball, you dropped it!”
“Hey! I never said I was good at volleyball, okay? Why are you attacking me, Lloyd sucked too!”
“It’s not like I ever had time to fit in volleyball practice between all my green ninja training! It wasn’t exactly a top priority!” “Are you telling me you’ve never played before?” Kai spluttered.
“I’ve played!” Lloyd insisted. “Uh… once or twice.”
Kai facepalmed. “Why did I let you come on my team?”
Lloyd grinned widely. “‘Cause you love me.”
Cole elbowed him. “It’s because he lost the coin toss and Nya got to pick first.”
“Hey!” Jay yelped. “Are you telling me you would have picked me last?”
“After I saw you play, yeah,” Cole snorted.
“I’m still not convinced on some of those calls, Zane,” Kai said, walking over to the nindriod. “I don’t think that one play near the third point was a foul.”
“Hey, the ref’s call is law,” Nya smirked. “Stop trying to cheat your way to victory, Kai.”
“I’m not cheating! Zane’s girlfriend is on your team! He’s obviously biased!”
“I’m a nindriod, Kai. I cannot be biased.”
“Stop being a sore loser, Kai.” Behind her, a wave swelled up. She raised her hand- then pointed it forward at Kai.
Her brother shrieked as the seawater drenched him.
“Nya! What’d you do that for?”
“You deserved it, with all the whining you were doing. Besides, you looked hot. I was just doing you a favor.”
“It’s alright,” Lloyd laughed. “You can share my towel, don’t worry.” As he handed Kai the towel, the fire ninja eyed it shrewdly.
“It’s got ducks on it. Of course it does.”
“Hey, you want the towel or not?”
“No, I’m taking the towel.” Kai wrapped the towel around himself, shivering, unfurling the ducks for all to see. Cole snickered, and Kai shot him a glare.
“Should we pack up, then?”
Zane nodded. “If we want to be back in time for dinner, probably.”
The team trudged back to their blanket, wet and sandy, but chatting amiably. They had nearly packed up all their things when Lloyd cried out suddenly.
“Where’s my wallet?”
Zane frowned. “Didn’t you put it in the valuables pouch?”
“I thought I did, but…” he paused. “Oh, wait. I tripped over Jay. I must’ve forgotten to put it in after that.”
“Well, then, it’s gotta be around here somewhere. What color is it, Lloyd?”
“What do you think? Green.”
They spent a good ten minutes searching through their entire bag and the surrounding sand, to no avail. It quickly became clear that if Lloyd’s wallet had ever fallen around here in the first place, it wasn’t here now.
Kai shrugged. “Oh well. It’s not that big of a deal. You don’t have any cards, and I don’t think you were carrying any of the cash. We can get you a new one.”
“No, but I had the things in there!”
Cole frowned. “The things?”
“You know.” Lloyd lowered his voice. “The things. That the mayor gave us?”
“What?!” Jay yelped. “Those were in there?” “You lost them?” Kai cried. “Lloyd, how could you?”
“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Kai groaned, rubbing his face. “We should’ve never trusted you with them. Or at least split them up, so they weren’t all together.”
“I still do not understand.” Pixal frowned. “What are these things that are so important?”
“They’re a top-secret gift from the mayor,” Jay whispered. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone we have them. Not that telling anyone now would matter anyway, because we don’t have them anymore.”
“It’s not my fault!” Lloyd insisted. “It’s that stupid seagull’s, he’s the one who distracted me-” Lloyd paused, his eyes widening. “That’s it! The seagull must’ve swiped my wallet when it was chasing me!”
“Looks like we have a lead,” Kai growled.
“Wait a minute, does anyone else hear that mysterious music-”
“Oh no,” Pixal muttered, putting a hand on her forehead. “Zane, please don’t tell me you’re going to do this again.”
“It seemed that, after only a few weeks, it was time for me to crack yet another case.” The odd, deep voice rang out, and they turned to see Zane slipping on a fedora.
“Where did that even come from,” Pixal despaired. “I’m positive you didn’t bring that with you. Positive.”
“Again, I was to be accompanied by my trusty assistant, but this time, my highly trained ninja associates would also be coming along, all determined to reclaim what someone had stolen in the heist.”
Jay glanced between Pixal and Zane. “What is happening right now? Am I supposed to know what’s happening?”
Pixal shook her head. “It’s a long story. Just go with it.”
Zane tipped his hat down. “Already, we were off with a very promising lead. I suspected the culprit to be the feathered fiend that had been spotted lurking around at the scene of the crime only an hour prior.”
Kai snorted, placing a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Oh, this is gold! Did you mess with his voice again, Jay?”
“No, I didn’t touch him! Pixal, you didn’t…”
She shook her head. “Believe me, I wouldn’t do this if you paid me. It was all him.”
Jay grinned. “What do we do next… detective Zane?” He and Kai simultaneously burst into laughter, leaning against each other for support.
Zane side-eyed them. “The primary suspect was as clear as a black bear in a snowstorm, yet the whereabouts of the creature were still unknown. It had vanished into thin air, without leaving so much as a trace in its stead.”
“Hey,” Lloyd said suddenly, leaning down to pick something up off of the sand, “What about this?”
“It appeared to be part of the plumage of a species of avian native to these shores. Could it belong to the specimen we were looking for?”
Kai plucked the feather from Lloyd’s fingers, examining it. “The feather was white with a dark tip, definitely having originated from a seagull- although the spiked, disturbed edges implied that this was from no ordinary gull- it was from one who had recently been in a fight.”
Jay grinned. “It seemed like we had hit the jackpot. Already, we were one step closer to tracking down this culprit.”
Pixal groaned. “Don’t you two start, too. It was bad enough with just Zane.”
Nya grimaced. “Yeah, this is already getting annoying.”
“How is a feather going to tell us where the seagull is now?” Cole asked.
“I could sense the wind was blowing in from the northwest,” Zane narrated. “If we wanted to find the culprit of the caper, we would have to walk upwind, hopefully leading us to the source of the feather.”
“Alright,” Pixal sighed, “let’s get this over with.”
“And so,” Zane grinned, “The Great Gull Caper began.”
The team trudged up the beach for about twenty minutes, to no avail. They passed many other beachgoers, pointing and staring as the ninja passed, but no seagulls were in sight.
“Are you sure about this, Zane?” Pixal asked.
“The feathered suspect had gained an hour’s head start in its escape from the scene, meaning we would have to hasten our pace if we ever hoped to catch up.”
“Oh, I am not walking an hour just to find this thing. Are we sure it’s that important?”
“Yes!” the guys yelped in unison.
“It’s a very important gift from the mayor! It would be rude to lose it,” Jay said. “We have to get it back!”
“Couldn’t you just ask for another… whatever they are?”
“No! They’re one of a kind!” “Well, can we at least hurry this up? Frankly, I’m getting quite tired of Zane’s shenanigans.”
Zane grinned at her. “Although she voiced her disapproval, my assistant knew the efficiency of my methods, as they had gotten us out of a pinch the last time things had been amok.”
“First of all, I was the one who successfully found Dyer last time. You just ended up getting caught.”
“Perhaps, but you used my techniques.”
Pixal huffed. “Second, I don’t appreciate that you keep calling me your assistant. If anything, we’re partners!”
Zane adjusted his fedora. “So it was a promotion she was after, eh? Well, if my assistant could prove her worth by properly complying with my techniques in this case, she may find herself with a loftier position in the future.”
Pixal sighed. “Whatever. Let’s just find the stupid bird, and go.”
The group trekked after Zane again, and Pixal wondered how long they would be here, when Zane suddenly stopped, causing half of the gang to crash into him.
“What?” Jay yelped. “What’s wrong? Why’d we stop?”
Zane pointed near his feet. “It seemed like the culprit had been careless enough to leave behind tracks in the sand.”
Pixal peered over his shoulder. Sure enough, the tracks of some avian species left a trail in the sand- and after consulting her database, it appeared to match the foot of a seagull.
“We’re getting closer!” Cole said. “It has to be around here somewhere.”
Nya’s eyes went wide, and she pointed towards something in the distance. “Look!”
Down the beach, a large group of seagulls was flocking around a half-eaten pretzel, flapping their wings and squawking as they tried to push past each other.
“It could be any of them,” Lloyd despaired. “How are we going to know which one was the one who stole my wallet?”
Jay smirked. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Lloyd eyed him nervously. “How?”
“One seagull, in particular, has come to associate you with food. One seagull has been known to chase you down.”
“Oh,” Lloyd paled, taking a step back and waving his hands. “Oh, no, I do not like where this is heading…”
“Come on, Lloyd, do it for the team,” Cole pleaded.
“You are the one who lost them in the first place,” Kai agreed. “It’s only fair.”
Lloyd groaned. “Why do I let you bully me into these things?”
“Go on,” Nya gave him a gentle shove. “We don’t have all day!”
Sticking his tongue out at her, Lloyd stepped forward, towards the seagulls. Several of them looked his way, a few flapping their wings anxiously and squawking in warning. Lloyd stopped, swallowing.
“Um. Hey. I don’t suppose any of you have seen a green wallet around here?”
Jay rolled his eyes. “They can’t understand you. Get closer!”
“Okay! I’m going, jeez-” he broke off with a yelp as a seagull darted in front of him, nearly tripping him as he stepped on its tail.
The seagull shrieked, and, in a flurry of feathers, the flock broke into a frenzied panic. Lloyd’s eyes widened, and he cried out, running away and frantically ducking swooping seagulls.
He darted behind Kai as a last nervy seagull hopped after him. Kai held up a fist, which burst into flame, scaring the bird off. Kai glanced back at Lloyd, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. “You okay, bud?”
Lloyd glared. “Don’t look at me like that. These birds are vicious!”
“Look!” Pixal pointed at a gull that had remained behind. With the others out of the way, she could see the small, green wallet between its beak.
“That’s the one!” Cole cried. “After it!”
For ninja, the group was embarrassingly unstealthy as they clamored after the bird, shooting elemental powers at it and screaming as they narrowly avoided each other’s blasts, so that by the time the seagull reached the water, the beach was a mess of crystalized sand, crevices in the ground, and various burn marks from fire, lightning, and energy.
“It’s a seagull!” Nya cried. “We’ve faced giant snakes, lords of darkness, elemental masters, Oni, more criminals and gangsters than I can count, and an evil video game AI, yet we can’t catch one measly seagull? It shouldn’t be this hard, you guys!”
“It’s getting away,” Jay cried, pointing at the bird, who had finally taken flight and was heading out over the ocean.
“No!” Lloyd moaned. “Now we’re never going to get it back!”
“Not on my watch,” Nya growled, racing past them towards the docks. “Come on!” “Oh no,” Kai groaned. “Nya Smith, whatever you are thinking, stop it right now, because I’m not doing it.” “Come on, Kai,” Lloyd insisted, grabbing his wrist and yanking him along. “We have to hurry!”
They raced after Nya, who was running down the dock towards a man who was examining the boats. Kai followed them more slowly, taking careful steps.
“Sir, we need to use a boat, right away! We’ll pay for it, we promise!”
The man shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, but these are all private boats. The only one we have is that one,” he pointed to a small, worn-looking fishing boat, “and the motor’s broken, so it’s of no use to anyone.”
“It doesn’t matter, I can take care of that. Everyone, get in!”
“W-wait,” the man stuttered, looking flustered.
“We’ll bring it right back, I promise! Now, come on, we don’t have much time!”
“No!” Kai insisted, as everyone else piled in. “Nuh-uh. No way. Not in a million years. You are not bringing me out into the middle of the ocean in a tiny, crowded boat with a busted engine!”
“You don’t need an engine when you’ve got me!” Nya raised her hand, and the water swirled under the boat, rocking it slightly. “Now, come on, we don’t have time for this!” “Y’know what.” Kai took a couple of steps back from the boat. “I’m good. I’ll stay here. You guys have fun finding the wallet. I’ll cheer you on from the beach. The dry, dry beach.”
“Nope.” Cole reached forward, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in. “This is your gift we’re saving, too. If you want to get part of it, you’re coming with.”
“Finally!” Nya huffed. The water rippled beneath them, and suddenly, it was propelling their boat, and they were off.
“Where’s the bird?” Nya asked. “Does anyone see it?” “Over there!” Cole pointed slightly towards their left, where the seagull was gliding away with surprising speed. Getting into the boat had slowed them down, and it had gotten a large head start.
Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on.”
“Don’t go faster!” Kai yelped from where he huddled near the middle of the boat, protectively sandwiched between Lloyd and Cole. “If you tip this boat, I will never forgive you.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Nya growled, although the boat slowed slightly as they continued.
“Our team continued to chase the thief, determined to put an end to the Great Gull Caper and put the culprit to justice. Even when our path took us across the raging waters of the ocean, with nothing but a rusty, broken old boat, and deep, swirling waters around us, filled with the dark abyss and the creatures that lurked there…”
“You mean like sharks?” Lloyd perked, peering over the edge. “Did you see any? I wanna see one!”
“Nope,” Kai yelped, pulling himself into a ball as he sat down on the floor of the boat. “Nopety nope nope nope. I’m done. I’m outta here.”
“The prospect of sharks was a dire one, but one we were willing to take. We would get that wallet back, no matter the cost- even if it meant competition from this fierce predator of the sea.”
Kai screamed into his hands. “Just end me now!”
“What Zane means to say,” Pixal said, elbowing Zane sharply, “is that sharks are actually very off-put by the taste of human flesh, and do not go after humans on purpose.”
Kai stared at her. “Oh joy, now a shark can devour my flesh by accident, what a relief.”
“Do not worry, Kai,” she told him. “There is only one estimated death by shark per year in the greater Ninjago City area.”
“Knowing my luck,” Kai grumbled, “I’ll be that one.”
“Did anyone bring their phone with?” Lloyd asked. “I wanna get a good picture when the sharks come for Kai.”
“I call dibs on his katana,” Jay exclaimed. “Y’know, the super flashy one with the flaming dragon carved into the handle?”
Lloyd wrinkled his nose at him. “Why would you want a fire dragon on your katana? You’re the lightning ninja!”
“Hey, just because my element is lightning, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a super dope fire design when I see one-”
“Guys,” Cole sighed, pushing his way between the two arguing boys. “No one is getting eaten. We’re perfectly safe here, on this boat.”
“Cole’s right,” Pixal agreed. “The sharks around this area are smaller, reef dwellers, and won’t come after us. They may, however, come after our seagull friend if he gets too close to the water.”
Kai made a noise in the back of his throat, and Cole scowled at her. “Thanks for the help, Pix.”
“Nya,” Jay whined, “the seagull’s getting further away! We have to go faster!”
“Don’t!” Pixal cried. “This boat has not been manufactured to withstand a lot of weight. With seven people, especially when two of them are titanium, going too fast would be sure to capsize us.”
“I told you I should’ve stayed behind on the shore,” Kai wailed.
Lloyd leaned further over the edge, raising a hand to his forehead to keep the glare off of his face as he peered intently into the water. “Is… is that a shark?”
Kai stared at him. “Shut up. You’re just baiting.”
Lloyd shook his head, his eyes lighting up in a way that was not reassuring in the slightest. “I’m not! It’s a shark! It’s a real, live shark! I’ve never seen one this close before! Except at like, an aquarium!”
Kai closed his eyes, rocking himself gently. “You’re lying. You stupid liar, I hate you.”
Cole peered over, following Lloyd’s gaze, and promptly bit his lip. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“This is a dumb prank, you guys!” Kai was half-yelling by this point.
“Stop being so loud,” Lloyd hissed. “You’ll scare it!”
Kai blinked at him. “I’ll scare it?”
Lloyd crossed his arms. “A scared shark is an aggressive shark.”
Kai’s mouth snapped shut.
“I can’t believe this,” Cole muttered. “Did we really not bring any weapons?”
“No!” Lloyd yelped. “Cole, you wouldn’t!”
“I would if it kept us from being eaten.”
“For the last time, sharks don’t eat humans!”
Cole ignored him. “Well? Did we?”
Nya snorted. “Why would we bring weapons to the beach?”
“Hey, with how often this city gets attacked, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Nya rolled her eyes. “It was supposed to be our day off.”
“It’s fine,” Pixal reported, keeping a careful eye on the shark. “It’s swimming away now. As long as we leave it alone, we’re safe.”
Kai frowned. “Looks like the gull isn’t so convinced, though.”
Pixal glanced up. Sure enough, the seagull was eyeing the shark nervously, pumping its wings as it flew higher and higher above the surface of the water.
“Do something!” Jay shrieked. “If we don’t stop it now, it’s going to get away for good!”
“Lloyd!” Nya cried. “Is your wallet waterproof?”
“What?”
“Just answer the question!” “Yes! Yes, it is!”
Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on, everyone!”
Suddenly, a vast wave rose out of the water, looming over the seagull.
Kai’s eyes widened. “Nya, be careful, you’ll hit us too-”
But it was already too late, the wave crashing down, downing the seagull, and soaking them in saltwater. The team cried out, and Kai screamed, throwing his arms over his head in a futile attempt to protect himself. As they all tried to lurch away from the spray, the boat rocked precariously, and, for a horrifying moment, they were suspended there, on the point between balance and capsize.
And then that moment was over, and they were all falling into the ocean.
Pixal’s world immediately dimmed as she plunged into the water, quietness enveloping her like a blanket. For a moment, she was too shocked to do anything, until a foot thrashed past her face, snapping her out of her trance as she swam towards the surface.
A couple of feet before she reached it, a metal hand snatched her wrist and pulled her the rest of the way up.
“Pixal!” Zane cried, his detective voice dropped. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. What about everyone else? Are we all here?”
Zane nodded his head behind her, and she turned to see the others all within a couple of feet. Cole had his hands on the now upside-down boat, trying to use his strength to push it over, but it was hard for him to get a good grip and stay afloat at the same time. Just behind him, Jay was spitting out a mouthful of seawater, sending ripples across the surface of the ocean as he treaded water. Lloyd was doing the same a couple of feet away, only the green ninja was struggling a lot more because of the arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
“Don’t let me go, Lloyd!” Kai yelped, although the feat would’ve been impossible even if Lloyd had wanted to- the fire ninja was clinging to him like a barnacle. “I can’t swim!”
Lloyd sighed. “I know that, Kai. It’s the only reason I’m letting you hold on to me like this.”
“I can’t believe this happened,” Kai cried. “We’re going to die out here. This is the worst day off ever.”
“Hey!” Lloyd snapped. “It’s not my fault this happened!”
Nya shot them all a sharp glare from where she was drifting alongside the boat. She didn’t even bother to tread water like the rest of them, instead using her powers to keep herself afloat. “It was going to work until you guys made such a big fuss about getting a little wet and tipped the boat.”
Cole sighed. “We’re not going to die. As soon as I get this right side up again, we’ll climb up and get out of here. Can you give me a hand, Zane?”
As the nindriod moved to help him, Kai suddenly went rigid.
“Lloyd,” he whispered.
“What, Kai?”
“Something just bumped my foot.”
“It’s probably just seaweed, Kai,” Lloyd sighed, looking down- and promptly froze.
“No one. Move.”
Jay squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh no, oh gosh, don’t tell me that’s what I think it is, this is not happening-”
“Jay, shut up,” Nya whispered, her face pale as she watched the dark shape lurking below them in the water.
“Everyone, stay calm,” Pixal murmured. “Don’t make any sudden movements and try to look it in the eyes.”
“Please, the last thing I’m gonna do is look at it,” Kai breathed, burying his face in Lloyd’s hair.
After a moment, the shark slowly swam past, losing interest.
“It doesn’t care about us,” Zane realized. “It wants the seagull.”
Several yards away, the gull was floating on the water, still trying to shake off the moisture from Nya’s wave. Suddenly realizing the danger it was in, the bird raised its wings- and launched itself into the air, just as fierce jaws snapped against empty air where the seagull had been less than a second ago.
Kai’s fingers dug tighter into Lloyd’s shoulders, and Pixal caught Jay biting his lip as he swallowed back a scream, but, its prey lost, the shark was already swimming away.
“Gotcha,” Nya murmured, reaching a hand out and snatching up the wallet, which the seagull had dropped in all the commotion, before it could sink to the bottom of the ocean.
“Okay. That’s great. We got it. Now can we get out of here?” Kai pleaded.
After a minute, they finally got the boat flipped over, and Cole hauled himself aboard before helping to lift the others. Ten minutes later, they were all safely out of the water and on their way back to the dock, and Pixal had never felt more relieved by the fact.
“So,” Jay asked, as the boat glided through the water, leaning closer to Nya. “Did they survive all that?”
“Let’s see,” Nya murmured, opening up Lloyd’s wallet. Pixal leaned forward, anxious to see what all the fuss had been about.
“Yes!” Jay cried, pulling out seven slips of paper. “They’re all here!”
“Wait.” Pixal snatched one from his hand, quickly scanning it. “A summer pass for free all-you-can-eat ice cream from the Dairy Dragon?”
“Yup,” Jay smiled, passing them out to the others. “The mayor gave them to us as a gift after we saved the city from Prime Empire. That’s what we were going to do today, after the beach, actually.”
“You’re telling me,” Pixal deadpanned. “That we just risked our lives. For free ice cream.”
“Free ice cream is free ice cream, Pix.”
“You’ll understand once you’ve tried their butter pecan,” Nya told her. “It’s to die for.”
“Butter pecan?” Jay spluttered. “No way, the Ninjapolitan is best.”
“You heathen, chocolate fudge is obviously the best flavor-”
“What are you guys talking about, mint chocolate chip is superior!”
“You just like it because it’s green.”
“Do not!”
“Do so!” Nya sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Here we go again.”
“Calm down, all of you,” Pixal said. “You can get whatever flavor of ice cream you want. Just do me a favor and try not to end up capsizing us in the middle of the ocean this time.”
Jay hummed. “No promises.”
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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years
Text
Married (Ethan Ramsey x MC)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale
Word count: 2,4 k
Summary: Parts of Ines’s wedding told from Ethan’s perspective feat. E&C dancing, staring at each other during the wedding, basically being a married couple and everyone calling them out for it. OH3 Chapter 11 added content.
Warnings: None, it’s fluff town all the way
A/N: I feel scammed by PB. All the golden opportunities - wasted. So I fixed it.
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His shoes sank a bit in the sand as he began walking towards the venue. More and more people were beginning to arrive, sounds of conversation and laughter increasing by the minute. He recognized his coworkers with ease and approached them. The first to notice him is Tobias, his eyebrow arching slightly at the sight of him.
“You came alone? Where’s Herondale?” he asked, looking over Ethan’s shoulder to search for the blonde resident.
“She helped me fix my tie, then kicked me out of our room. And refused to let me see the dress.” He explained, shrugging with a helpless laugh. Harper laughed along with him, clapping her hands gently.
“That’s wife behavior. Are you sure you two aren’t married?”
“Dude, if you two eloped, I’m not going to be working out with you anymore.” Bryce chimed in, acting as though he was offended, a serious look overtaking his face.
“Where would you- why would you- “ Ethan started stumbling over his words, realizing only after a moment that everyone was smirking at him teasingly. He huffed, fighting a blush that creeped onto his cheeks anyway. “I see. You all think you’re funny.”
“You make it too easy, Ethan.” Harper giggled, shaking her head.
“And we know we’re funny, Ethan.” His mentor put his hand on his shoulder sympathetically.
“Hilarious, even.” Baz added.
A small sound of an incoming message caused everyone to stop talking. Sienna unlocked her phone, her eyes scanning the screen.
“Claire just texted me a photo of her in a dress.”
Immediately, everyone jumped to her side, long before Ethan could even move his finger. Once he woke up from the daze, he took a step towards the young doctor that he considered his friend. Zaid stopped him in his tracks with a hand pressed to his shoulder.
“She said to not let you see the photo.”
“Why?”
Her voice rang from behind him. “I wanted to see your reaction myself.”
Ethan turned around and, at once, his breath caught in his throat. His gaze dropped to her shoes and dragged up her body slowly. The gentle flow of her skirt, pink silk that he knew for sure would almost spill through his fingers. The bodice, snug against her chest, accentuating her curves and making his male brain run wild. Careful to not linger on her chest too long – he would not get crap from their friends for this – he finally looked at her face. She was grinning smugly with a bit of a nervous spark.
He stepped up to her, resting his hand on the dip of her waist, tracing the floral patterns under his touch. With his other hand, he grasped hers in a gentle manner, raising it to press a warm kiss to her fingers.
“You’re taking my breath away.” he muttered, staring at her intensely.
“Hypoxia is dangerous, maybe I should go.” Claire teased, leaning away a fraction of an inch. He immediately pushed on her back to stop her, their personal spaces merging.
“Not having you by my side is fatal.” He dropped his voice to a low rumble, her grin melting into the soft smile. Their lips met in a slow kiss, no heat to it, just pure emotions.
They remained like that for a prolonged moment, his hands carefully pressing her to his chest. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making their bodies move in a swaying motion.
Jackie burst their bubble. “You, lovebirds, the brides are about to arrive, cut it out.”
Ethan pressed his lips to Claire’s one last time, then leaned away. Their noses brushed against one another as their eyes met. He whispered gently. “I’ll come find you after the ceremony.”
She pecked his cheek sweetly. “Can’t wait.”
--
He wasn’t particularly a fan of weddings. He wasn’t invited to a lot of them, either. If combined with his dislike for big social gatherings, one would come to the conclusion that Ethan Ramsey was miserable right in that moment.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
As Ines and Angie exchange vows and talk about their love for each other, his eyes find Claire. Sitting in her chair across the aisle, she’s holding Sienna’s hand and passing her a tissue. She’s all anyone could ever ask for, and the mere sight of her makes him fall down into the void of memories.
How far he’s come as a person. A cynic that dreaded what a new year would bring along with a new batch of interns. A man that had only two people in his life that he could call friends. A man that went to the bar every night to forget the day behind him, only to go back to his empty apartment. All of that was so long ago that he barely recognized that version of himself anymore. He was so different now.
He smiled more. Laughed, even, and found that he didn’t find stupid jokes Lahela made all the time half as annoying as he once did. He didn’t spend every waking moment at work. Instead, he enjoyed his time off. Still at a bar, but not to drink away his worries. Not alone – not anymore.
Now, he had someone to come home to.
Claire shook her head as she laughed at what Zaid said and Ethan’s heartbeat quickened. They grew together as people too, and along with that, their relationship evolved.
From the night they spent together in the NICU, when her head slowly fell onto his shoulder and he couldn’t find a single cell in his body to tell him to lean away. Because he wanted her to be close. It was the first moment in which he thought that maybe this brilliant woman was meant to be more to him than just an intern – and right after that, he squashed the idea back down.
Every hold of her hand, every silent sign of support, he cherished it all. Unknowingly falling deeper for the woman that would become the center of his universe before he realized what was happening.
Their kiss in Miami would be at the forefront of his mind in his every living second until he kissed her again. Growing stronger with each time his resolve broke and their lips met, softly or with wild abandonment.
The first time he could call her his – the first time he had her to himself. He knew in that moment that he was ruined for everyone else. No one would ever make him feel that way, ever again. He knew it damn well – and yet, he still fought against it.
Absence makes heart grow fonder. He now knew it was true. Months he spent away from her, keeping her at arm’s length, taught him as much. How could he deny those words when the moment he pulled her closer to him outside his apartment and their lips touched, he felt his mind go blank and his heart stop. He vowed to never let her leave again. To never lose her.
And then he almost did.
The thought alone made his muscles spasm, and he was a millisecond away from running to her side, just to feel her warmth and hear her heartbeat. Leaving her side now, even if only for a moment, even to do their job, caused a silent voice to go off in his head. A wave of panic usually followed, staying with him until he saw her again.
Thankfully, nowadays, she was within his reach most of the time. She never asked why he sometimes needed to pull her close and just hold onto her – she knew.
He felt the corners of his lips rise on their own accord. She was radiant in every second of every day. In that moment, she was the most beautiful person there. The idea that it was him that she continuously chose to be with, day after day, only made him smile wider.
This was it for him. He found his one and only, as cliché as that sounded – he knew it for sure. Guess weddings really did make people reflect on love after all.
Ethan was very much aware of how lovestruck he must have been looking in that moment. With his eyes on Claire, he was a picture of a man in love – and he was finally ready to admit that he was. He loved her.
Almost as though she could hear his thoughts, she turned around to look at him. Their eyes met and a brilliant smile bloomed on her face. His lips moved as he mouthed the words, her smile becoming gentler.
“I’m yours.”
She mouthed it right back to him.
--
Music wasn’t as obnoxious as he anticipated it to be. That didn’t, of course, mean that he condoned every dance move he saw the guests do. He decided to not complain, though – it was a day to be happy, he wouldn’t bring anyone down with his opinion on their questionable choices of moves.
Currently, he was seated by the table, nursing his whiskey. Mirani twins, Tobias and Naveen sat beside him, all five men watching their colleagues party with wine glasses in their hands.
“How long, do you think, will it take for one of them to break a glass?” Baz asked, leaning out of his seat to see his friends better. Zaid grinned, taking a sip of his drink.
“Any second now. And my bet is on Varma.”
“Why?” Tobias’s face twisted in confusion as he turned towards him, intrigued. Zaid shrugged.
“Because she can.”
Ethan tuned their conversation out, choosing instead to look at his girlfriend. She danced with Sienna, laughing as they sang along to the song. Her dress moved with her, flowing through the air elegantly. He felt the urge to stand up and walk up to her.
“Ramsey, you do know you can just walk up to her instead of sitting here and pining for her, right?” Tobias snickered, punching Ethan’s shoulder playfully. He scoffed, leaning away with a hint of a burn in his cheeks.
“I’m not pining for her.”
“You are.” All four of his companions replied.
He was so distracted by their words that he failed to notice an approaching form. Her hand landed on his shoulder softly, the tips of her nails scratching the back of his neck. Knowing who it was, he leaned into her touch, breathing out deeply.
“Sorry, gentlemen, but I’m stealing him.” she mused happily, dragging her hand down his arm until her fingers tangled with his. Ethan let her pull her up, looping his arm around her waist.
“Stealing is bad, Herondale.” Tobias shot back, moving his eyebrows suggestively at the couple. Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Ethan beat her to the punch.
“She can’t steal something that’s already hers.” He grinned at them, then turned towards her. Claire’s jaw dropped in surprise at his boldness, her posture softening enough for him to pull her away from the table, smirking. Faintly, he heard Tobias’s words.
“Married. For sure.”
Ethan’s arms wrapped around her, fingers hooked onto her hipbones. She threw her arms around his neck, staring up at him with a soft smile. A slow song began playing and one look at where the DJ was situated told them who was behind this change. Ines grinned at them, giving them thumbs up and a cheeky wink.
“Is it just me, or is everyone trying to tell us something?” Claire giggled, nuzzling her nose against his jaw. He kissed her nose gently.
“So, you noticed it too?”
“Kinda hard not to. Girls said we’re acting like a married couple at least twice today.” she traced the lapel of his jacket, laughing quietly at the recognition in his eyes.
“Guys did it too.” Ethan muttered, tightening his hold on her. She laid her head on his shoulder.
“And how does that make you feel?”
He was silent for a long while. They swayed to the song, tuning out everything else. To her surprise, he didn’t tense up – nothing about his posture spelled out the doubts he once told her he had.
“Not as terrified as it did before.”
Claire leaned back to look at him. Their eyes met, tender understanding in them. Ethan leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss, perfectly soft and not nearly deep enough. She clutched his lapel in her fist, creasing the fabric with how strong her pull was. His fingers dug into her back, skipping past the coarser material of her bodice and gripping the soft silk of her skirt. A voice in the back of his head told him to loosen up the hold or he’ll mark the fabric, but the overwhelming need he felt for her overshadowed everything else and he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
The song ended and with it, their kiss. Foreheads pressed together, they caught their breath, standing in the middle of the dancefloor. Blissfully unaware of how much attention they gathered with their tender moment.
Ethan opened his eyes and finally allowed his mind to register the music again. Some sort of a fast tune that made people around them go mad. His girlfriend stared at him with an unspoken question, and he got the meaning perfectly well.
With a definite move, he dipped her onto the floor. She giggled, the sound breaking through the loud music to reach his ears. Ethan smirked, throwing her back into his arms. With his lips against her ear, he mused hotly.
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Her leg wrapped around his thigh, pushing their bodies closer. His voice broke off and his breath shuddered at the way their bodies clashed and the suggestive smirk she sent his way. His hand fell to her ass, all inhibitions gone.
“Ethan!” she exclaimed, laughing at the carefree smile he gave her. He moved his hand a bit, albeit begrudgingly.
“Can you blame me? You’re irresistible.” He muttered, kissing the shell of her ear. Claire hummed, then twirled out of his hold and back into it, jumping into his arms with her legs wrapped around his hips. Ethan groaned deeply in his throat, making her smirk.
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve too.”
Notes
This is a part 2 to the Mile High Club fic. As I said, PB could have made the chapter so good with all the wedding themes that I’d lose my wig. Writers apparently don’t know how to do basic research into fiction themes, but that’s okay (kinda). It just means I have more material to work with.
Round two smut is coming soon. 
Thank you for reading! <3
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is-it-art-tho · 3 years
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Summary: A mission gone awry, too many memories, too much blood, and not enough time. Bruce races to save a son he couldn't save before.
Prologue, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8
_________
Then.
“Who’s the bat now?” a young voice shouted.
Bruce paused halfway through the foyer and looked up. “Get down before you hurt yourself,” he called back.
Twelve-year-old Jason was hanging from the second-floor banister with his legs curled around the handrail, grinning impishly. “You sound like Alfred. We do way more dangerous stuff than this like every night.”
“That’s not the—” Bruce began, but the boy’s eyes zeroed in on the bowl of chocolates he was holding under his arm.
“Are those truffles?!” Jason stuck out his hands and grasped at the air between them. “Gimme gimme gimme!”
“You can have as many as you want once you get down.”
This, of course, was a lie. The first and last time Bruce had made a promise like this had involved a three-tiered cake left mostly untouched after a company party. He had been expecting Jason to have maybe three slices, max. The kid had instead eaten almost half of it, then proceeded to spend the rest of the night gagging and moaning over the toilet. (Alfred had laid into Bruce for that one: “What sort of promise is that to make to a child? Honestly!”)
A bright smile flashed across Jason’s face as he started to sit up before pausing then letting himself flop back upside down again with an accusatory frown. “Wait a second. You did that thing.”
“What thing?
“That thing with your eyebrows that you do whenever you’re makin’ stuff up.” Jason tried to demonstrate, scrunching his face around cartoonishly. “Liar.”
“All right, all right. Fair enough,” Bruce conceded, making a mental note to work on that particular tell. “But the point still stands. Leave that stuff for the practice mats and patrol.”
“Okayyy. But can you just throw one in my mouth? Please?”
Despite trying to maintain some semblance of sternness, a small grin tugged at the corner of Bruce’s mouth as he took in Jason’s pathetic excuse for puppy dog eyes. “Jason…”
“Just one?”
With a resigned sigh, Bruce plucked a single truffle from the bowl. “Alright. Just—”
***************************
Now.
“—one,” Bruce grunted over the pouring rain, adjusting the weight of Jason’s arm slung across his shoulders. When had he gotten so big? “C’mon, Jay. One step. There you go. One foot in front of the other.”
Jason’s head lolled forward as he struggled to remain upright, dragging a boot forward, then the other, his feet barely leaving the slick cobblestones. “I…hate Germany.”
“I know. We’ll be home soon.”
“Liar,” the young man rasped. He lifted his head enough to grin at Bruce, and it was a gruesome sight—his helmet was long gone, and now long trails of blood hung from his nose and mouth, his teeth a row of red—but it was somehow encouraging all the same.
“You can’t even see my eyebrows.”
“Don’t have to.”
Bruce feigned alarm. “Don’t tell me I have another tell.”
“Loads of ‘em.”
“Now who’s the lia—" he started then stopped abruptly.
The two of them heard it at the same time, muted in the downpour, but distinct—a series of quick and careful steps rushing up from behind.
Jason’s head swiveled first, and his eye that wasn’t swollen shut flew wide. Before Bruce had time to react, he was being shoved out of the way, stumbling on wet stones and falling hard as Jason spun to face the man in the balaclava that was charging towards them.
The assassin’s black uniform was barely visible in the shimmering dark of the rain, but as lightning tore through the clouds, he was lit in blinding relief, as was the ornate dagger in his hand.
And Bruce watched Jason spot the weapon too, but the young man's body was in no state to react the way it needed to, and in the span of a single breath, the dagger was gone, plunged deep into the young man’s abdomen.
The following crack of thunder was rivaled only by Bruce’s own roar.
***************************
Then.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Bruce stepped aside to let Jason shuffle past him and into Bruce’s personal quarters on the Watchtower, noting with a small pang of sympathy how the young boy started to limp as soon as the door closed behind them and there was no chance of one of the others seeing.
The boy flopped onto the bed with his face flat against the sheets. “Do what?”
“Go through all those drills with us,” he said, tugging off his shirt with some difficulty—already he was beginning to get sore. “It’s not an easy training routine. Even some of us tap out sometimes.”
“Wanted to.”
“Hm.” Bruce glanced at his bare torso in the mirror where bruises were already beginning to form. “Can I ask why?”
When Jason didn’t answer, he glanced at the boy in the mirror. “Jay.”
Still nothing. Had he passed out? Bruce turned, ready to rush him to the infirmary, only to find Jason perfectly awake and apparently furious. He was glaring at the ceiling with such an intensity Bruce had no doubt it would have melted if he’d had heat vision.
“This is about what Diana said,” he surmised, leaning back against the dresser. “You’re aware she wasn’t trying to offend you.”
“She said I wasn’t good enough.”
“No,” Bruce corrected patiently.
“She said I wasn’t as good as him.”
“She also said you had heart, which is something she doesn’t throw around lightly.” Bruce bent to pull a water bottle from the mini fridge and tossed it onto the bed beside Jason who made no move to grab it. “And you have to keep in mind Dick was almost sixteen the first time they met. He had a lot of experience under his belt by then. You just turned thirteen.”
“But it’s not just that,” Jason explained, openly exasperated. He sat up and pulled his domino off to cradle it in his hands like a living thing. “It’s everybody. Everybody thinks he was better than me. He’s the real Robin and I’m just…the replacement. I wanna show them that I’m the real thing, too. And that you didn’t make a mistake when you…”
He stopped short, but the rest of the sentence rang in the air anyway as if he had shouted it: You didn’t make a mistake when you chose me.
Bruce struggled to find the right words to say, to find that balance between sincerity and what Jason would certainly read as coddling. It was a fine line, and one he often stumbled over, and precious seconds ticked by in silence until at last Jason’s demeanor shifted.
The young boy’s face twisted into a stubborn smile, and Bruce knew instantly that the window of opportunity had passed.
“But who cares what they think anyway?” Jason smirked. “I know who I am so whatever.”
Another moment fumbled due to Bruce’s own ineptitude. He was no good at these conversations—not the way Clark and Alfred and even Dick were—and he cursed himself for it.
“Okay if I shower first?” the boy asked, scooting to the edge of the bed where he started unlacing his boots.
“Sure,” Bruce sighed. “Towels are in the drawer.”
Jason was nearly to the bathroom with a towel in hand when a knock came at the door and Bruce called, “Come in.”
The door slid open, and Clark stepped in, already showered and changed. In his hand was a pair of clippers.
“Thanks for letting me borrow these. Hey!” he beamed, turning to Jason. “Well, look at you!”
“What?” Jason shot back defensively, looking himself over. “What?”
“Nothing. Just happy to see you up and around so fast. You know, the first time we trained together as a team, this guy,” Clark held up a hand to block the fact that he was pointing directly at Bruce—Bruce saw it anyway—“came back here and slept for about eight hours. Everyone thought he was dead.”
“Seriously?!”
“No,” Bruce interjected.
“Alright. Five,” Clark allowed.
Bruce’s voice dipped threateningly. “Clark.”
“Did I mention he puked?”
By the time the deodorant left Bruce’s hand and exploded against the wall, Clark was already grinning mischievously from the other side of the room, his cape settling back around him.
Meanwhile, Jason was bent double, laughing harder than Bruce had seen in a long time. “You puked?” he wheezed.
“Like a fire hydrant,” Clark chimed, eliciting another roar of laughter. It was as innocent and contagious and perfect a sound as Bruce had ever heard, filling the small space easily.
The two men exchanged a quick knowing glance while Jason laughed, confirming what Bruce had suspected from the moment the other man had arrived—one way or another, Clark noticed that something was wrong.
Clark raised an eyebrow—a question—and Bruce nodded: He’ll be okay and Thank you packed into the quick dip of his chin. Clark smiled.
Setting aside the clippers, the Kryptonian crossed the room to pat Jason on the back, saying earnestly, “Good work today. Really.”
“Thanks,” Jason said, and this time the smile that slid across his face was genuine.
After Clark had gone, Jason whispered, “Did you really do all that stuff?”
“He exaggerated.”
“But?”
“Yes, I vomited,” Bruce offered at last, more than willing to fall on this sword if it meant hearing that sound again. After a moment’s consideration he added, “Flash slipped in it.”
And again, Jason was howling, letting himself fall back against the wall and as he gripped his ribs. “I can’t breathe!” he gasped between peals of laughter. “I—"
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