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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Note

HOWDY SOULMATE OF MINE. Can I please have some Jaskilion? I want lingerie and I want make up and I want blindfolds and I will cry if I don't get it. No pressure.

Let's just ignore the fact this is four months later... Oops. Please don't cry! Oh and thanks to @kuripon for beta-ing! This is based in my modern Jaskilion AU but all parts read well on their own as well.

This is Jaskilion smut. Rated E. Pretty much the prompt with added blowjobs.

________

Silence was rare in Jaskier and Dandelion’s flat. They were both musically inclined which led to a cacophony of sound in the house. If they weren’t practicing for their fledgling band, then one or the other of them would be humming under their breath or scribbling down some rhyme on whatever paper they could find. So, silence was something that couldn’t often be found, and was not really appreciated by either musician. However, the silence in the flat that day was building an unspoken tension between them and Jaskier was loath to break it. It wasn’t often that he unpacked his drawing set, but words had escaped him for over a week and he was itching to create something, anything. The portrait had been Dandelion’s idea, and Jaskier loved any excuse to draw his friend.

Dandelion was, for lack of a better word, absolutely stunning. His almost elf-like beauty had lured Jaskier in like a moth to a flame… or more accurately a barista to the supply closet. It also made him a perfect subject for Jaskier’s drawing practice.

Especially when he sat so prettily on the chair, his hands tied behind his back and a silk tie wrapped around his head, keeping him blinded. Dandelion was wearing his favourite emerald green silk lingerie, the vibrant colour looking fucking radiant against his pale skin and long golden curls. To top the look off, his lips were painted a rich blood red and he looked absolutely sinful. Jaskier was having a hard time focusing on his drawing, pun intended.

He wanted nothing more than to rip that stupidly pretty silk off of Dandelion’s body but his friend had made him promise that he would finish his sketch first. It was going torturously slowly. He’d just about blocked out the rough shape but he was losing patience, which just wasn’t fair. Even tied to a chair and blindfolded, Dandelion still managed to command the room when he wanted. It was infuriating, and just a little bit sexy.

Jaskier sighed as he set aside his sketchpad, the sound clearly drawing Dandelion’s attention as the blond cocked his head.

“Jaskier?”

“I’m here,” he muttered, sighing again as he crossed the room, making sure his steps were audible even on the rug. He didn’t want to startle his friend. “I’m going to touch you.”

“How’s the drawing?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes as he brushed his fingers along Dandelion’s cheek. “Let me worry about that, you just stay sitting there for me, dear heart.”

“Well, I don’t appear to have much choice,” Dandelion scoffed haughtily, tugging half-heartedly at the silk ties behind his back. “I am your prisoner.”

Jaskier trailed his fingers down his friend’s neck, tracing the edges of the bra straps, enjoying the feel of the silk against his skin. He was delighted to see Dandelion’s shiver at his touch. He was even more delighted to see Dandelion’s cock straining against the silk panties. Despite his talk, Dandelion was not as unaffected as he liked to appear.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Jaskier chided gently, letting his fingers hook under the silk, brushing against his friend’s nipples. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and Dandelion tilted his head back.

Jaskier bit back any other witty remarks as he removed his hands and as silently as possible, moved away from Dandelion. His friend let out a pitiful whine and just like that the power shifted between them and Jaskier smirked. The rug muffled the sound of his footsteps as he moved behind Dandelion, and the only sound in the room was the thundering of his own heart. It felt so loud in his chest he was sure that Dandelion would be able to hear it. Dandelion blindly looked around the room, cocking his head as he tried to pick up any sound that would give away Jaskier’s position.

“You better not have left me here,” Dandelion mumbled, sounding offended by the idea of it.

Jaskier barely managed to keep from laughing. They’d agreed that he would stay in the room the whole time, and he knew Dandelion trusted him to keep that promise, but Jaskier gently touched his friend’s shoulder. Dandelion yelped and jumped in his seat, letting out a string of profanities and finally Jaskier allowed himself to make a noise.

“Okay?” he asked, grinning despite himself.

“You bastard,” Dandelion grumbled but still leaned into Jaskier’s touch as Jaskier ran his fingers through his friend’s hair.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Jaskier promised and circled Dandelion, never taking his hands off Dandelion’s skin, trailing his fingers down Dandelion’s chest as he knelt in front of him.

He barely remembered to breathe as he looked up at his friend, blindfolded and so helpless above him. The trust they had in each other was unlike anything Jaskier had experienced before. It was a heady feeling, and there was no doubt how deep his friendship with Dandelion was. Anyone that said romance was more important than friendship needed a bollocking, and Jaskier sent up a quick prayer to any gods that might exist, thanking them for both Dandelion, and Geralt’s acceptance of their untraditional friendship.

Jaskier truly had hit the jackpot with the two of them. He smiled as he pressed a kiss to Dandelion’s thigh, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. Above him, Dandelion pulled at the ties and whined again.

“Patience, darling,” Jaskier murmured as he brushed his lips along Dandelion’s thigh before mouthing at the silk panties that barely concealed his friend’s cock. Dandelion scoffed and opened his mouth to shoot back some no doubt biting remark, but Jaskier cut him off. “Perhaps we should have gagged you as well.”

Dandelion just pouted, making Jaskier chuckle as he hooked his fingers under the top of the panties, pulling them down enough to expose Dandelion’s hard cock, already leaking against the soft pretty fabric. The sight made Jaskier’s mouth dry and he licked his lips before pressing a kiss to Dandelion’s stomach, delighting as the muscles rippled under his lips.

“Oh fuck,” Dandelion groaned, “bloody tease.”

“Hmm, you love it,” Jaskier murmured, reaching up to brush his fingers along Dandelion’s bra.

Dandelion had always been very responsive, but never quite like this. It seemed that every touch had the musician on edge, whimpering, gasping, moaning, and Jaskier was fucking addicted. He wasn’t usually one to tease this much, he didn’t have the patience for it, but he was just having too much fun. Still, he had promised to make it up to his friend, and he would hate to break his word, so finally he pressed a kiss to Dandelion’s cock, licking at the slit before taking just the tip into his mouth, suckling lightly, just a tease of what was to come. Jaskier felt Dandelion’s cock twitch in his mouth and his friend let out an obscene moan which only spurred Jaskier on more.

He groaned as he pulled off, licking a stripe down the length as his fingers dug into the soft skin of Dandelion’s thighs. He nosed at the base of Dandelion’s cock before kissing along the underside until he reached the tip once more, bobbing his head as he took it back into his mouth, enjoying the weight on his tongue. Dandelion’s whimpers and moans were tantalizing, making his own cock achingly hard in his trousers and he shifted so he could grind down on his feet, desperate for any kind of friction.

“Wanna see you,” Dandelion panted, still straining against the silk ties. They would come loose if he really wanted, but it was a pretty sight watching him struggle.

Jaskier hummed around his friend’s cock, slowly working to relax his jaw as he took Dandelion further into his mouth. Reluctantly he released one of his friend’s thighs, stroking his hand up until it was pressing against Dandelion’s balls through the silk fabric. Dandelion gasped and bucked forward as best as he could given his restraints, mumbling an apology as Jaskier almost choked on his cock. Instead, Jaskier moaned as he doubled down on his efforts, rocking his own hips forward as he licked and sucked at his friend’s cock with all the grace of a drunk at their local nightclub, but his own arousal was making it hard to think about skill. Judging by the sounds Dandelion was making, his friend didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, oh fuck!” Dandelion hissed, gasping for breath. He was close so Jaskier moaned as he made one last effort, humming around his friend’s cock as it nudged the back of his throat, pulling back just enough as Dandelion came, Jaskier’s name falling off his lips in a prayer. Jaskier suckled at Dandelion’s cock, chasing every last drop of cum, until he started to soften in his mouth.

Finally he pulled off, wiping his mouth before pressing one last kiss to Dandelion’s thigh. “Fuck,” he sighed, his voice hoarser than he would have liked but he decided it was completely and utterly worth it.

Dandelion let out a peal of laughter and finally managed to wiggle free of the ties behind his back. His hands were in Jaskier’s hair before Jaskier realised his friend was free. He blinked as he looked up. Blue eyes peered down at him, dark and hungry, and his friend’s cheeks were flushed almost as red as his lipstick.

“Fuck,” Jaskier repeated and pressed his forehead to Dandelion’s stomach.

Long fingers just carried on stroking through his hair as Dandelion laughed again. “My turn.”

#the witcher #jaskilion #jaskier x dandelion #jaskier pankratz #dandelion #wolfie’s witcher writing #nsft

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

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Harvest Festival

Author: @eiramrelyat

Prompt: Panem. No games AU, where Peeta asks Katniss to be his date for the Harvest festival, and Katniss goes to her best friend Gale for advice. She also hints to him that a certain someone he has his eyes on may also reciprocate his feelings and encourages him to ask her out [submitted by @everlurked]

Rating: T

Author’s Notes: Thank you @mandelion82 for editing this story for me. I hope you all enjoy!

_________

Today, Peeta Mellark asked her to be his date for the upcoming Harvest festival. It was a dance (or a feast, with dancing, some might say) that was held in the merchant’s square. Buildings were decorated with multicolored ears of corn, and banners swung from light poles. It was an event only merchants ever attended.

She was dropping off a trade for Thoball, Peeta’s dad, at the bakery. But when she rapped against the back door, Thoball wasn’t the one who answered. It was Peeta.

He was covered in flour, his curls falling softly against his forehead.

Out of surprise at seeing him, she almost tripped on the step leading into the kitchen. But Peeta caught her elbow in time before she could fall face-first into his chest. “Katniss, are you alright?” he asked, giving her a concerned expression.

Her mouth opened and closed, nothing coming out. She couldn’t remember the last time⎯if ever⎯she’d had a conversation with Peeta… She never even stopped to thank him for what he did for her and Prim all those years ago. “Oh, sorry,” she finally said, maybe a little too loudly for the tiny gap between them. “I wasn’t looking where I was going… But I’m fine,” she added hastily at the end, feeling embarrassed over her sudden clumsiness.

“Okay.” When he realized he was still holding her elbow, he quickly dropped his hand and gestured toward her game bag. “Are you here to trade?”

Katniss nodded, still flustered, and reached into her bag for the pheasants she shot down that morning. Peeta already had two loaves of bread set aside and handed them to her as she presented him with the two limp birds.

“Thank you,” she said, tucking the loaves under her arm. Peeta nodded, and his mouth twitched as if to say something, but he gave her a tiny, uncertain smile instead. “Well, uh, I should probably get going before it gets dark out. Tell Thoball I said thank you for the bread.”

Then she turned and walked back down the steps.

“No, wait, Katniss,” Peeta called after her, pulling her up short. She glanced back at him. “Do you, uh, if you don’t have a date… would you like to go to the Harvest Festival with me?”

She froze, blinking at him, her heart fluttering wildly. “What?”

A red hue scattered up his neck. “Would you go to the Harvest Festival with me?”

“I, um…” In a panic, she ran, leaving him without an answer at his back door. She was so eager to get away from the bakery that she bumped into Thoball around the front of the building. He seemed to be in a heated argument with his eldest son, Graham⎯ their voices hushed and sharp.

“Oops! Sorry, Mister Mellark!”

He looked down at her, his demeanor changing from agitated to friendly. “Hello, Katniss. Was Peeta able to help you today?”

“Yes, sir,” she told him, then cleared her throat. “Uh, thank you for the bread, but I need to finish my rounds.”

He gave her a kind smile. “Of course. Have a nice day, Katniss.”

~~~~~

Katniss mopily finished her rounds, wondering if she should have told him yes. Although, she knew Peeta deserved someone better⎯someone who didn’t ignore him when he tried to show them kindness. She hoped he didn’t think her ungrateful. Though that was the difference between them, he was good, and she…wasn’t.

Katniss tossed her game bag over her shoulder and kicked at a pebble with the toe of her boot.

Not to mention, Katniss didn’t know one thing about dressing up, except those times for the Reaping. Nerves had wracked her then. Not that she didn’t have them now, because she definitely felt acid butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. But that didn’t count since, at the time, she felt like she was being dressed as a pig for slaughter.

Lastly, she didn’t have anything to wear, aside from said Reaping dress that was starting to become snug around her chest and arms. All she owned were scuffed pants, old boots, and her dad’s hunting jacket‒none of which sounded like a proper Harvest Festival outfit.

Would Peeta expect her to dress like the merchant girls from school? Hair styled and shiny with ribbons? A pastel cotton dress that fell below her knees?

Yet, she was nothing like the merchant girls. She was Seam. Her hair and nails were often dirty⎯mostly from hunting. She didn’t own nice enough material to pass as a ribbon, nor did she own a dress that didn’t have patches sewn into the skirt.

Peeta, a merchant’s son, wouldn’t want that, would he?

The longer she thought about it, the more she started to believe that it was some sick joke. Maybe the golden boy wasn’t as nice as he so claimed to be…

“Katniss!”

She looked over to find Madge skipping up to her, blonde curls bouncing behind her. “Oh, hey, Madge,” she said, still walking.

Madge fell in step with her. “Um, I hate to ask, but are you going to see Gale?” she asked, blushing.

“Yeah, after rounds.”

“Well, um, do you think you could give this to him? I didn’t see him in town today.” Madge reached into a pocket in her dress and pulled out a small square box (blue tissue paper decorating the outside), then she held it out to her.

“Sure.” Katniss grabbed the box, placing it in her jacket.

Madge smiled. “Thank you, Katniss!” Then, she walked into the Cartwright’s shoe store.

~~~~~

She met Gale in the meadow, finding him lying in a section of tall grass. Like the hunter he was, he turned at the sound of her boots stepping in a pile of mud.

“Hey, Catnip.”

Katniss unceremoniously plopped down onto the grass next to him. “I have a special package for you from Madge.” She tossed the tiny parcel onto his lap, and he looked at it before shoving it in his pocket.

“Thanks.”

“What is it?” Katniss asked curiously.

His eyes widened. “Oh, uh…” She’d never seen his olive skin so pink. “It’s something we- she started a few weeks ago. It’s nothing really.” She hummed a noncommittal sound, deciding to leave it be for now.

They lapsed into silence, staring off at the clouds and the trees at the edge of the meadow. Normally, she’d find this peaceful, but her mind was still going a mile a minute. And she couldn’t stay still either, her fingers tearing up grass near the heel of her boot. She was too busy attempting to pick apart Peeta’s question from earlier to enjoy how quiet the birds were today.

“You’re scaring all of the wildlife away,” Gale said beside her.

Her fingers stopped. “Sorry, I just…I have a lot on my mind.”

He glanced over at her. “Want to talk about it?”

She was quiet for a moment, lips pursed in hesitation until she spoke up again. “How do you thank someone for a debt you can never repay?”

“Easy, you simply thank them.”

Katniss rolled her eyes, tossing the pile of shredded grass at him. “Very funny.”

Gale laughed before nudging her shoulder with his. “Are you talking about bread boy?”

Her mouth fell open. “How-?”

“He came up to me the other day while I was trading in The Hob, and asked if you and I were dating.” Katniss’s nose scrunched at the thought. “Wow, thanks,” he scoffed. “Listen, I think you’re overthinking this. And it’s clear that Peeta doesn’t hold any grudges against you, or else he wouldn’t have asked about you.”

She considered this, remorse and shame festering inside her. And the fact that Peeta didn’t hold a grudge, only made her feel worse.

Why did he have to be so good?

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

Gale shrugged. “Glad I could help.”

The next morning, set on making things right, she walked as quickly as she could from the Seam to the Mellark’s bakery. Unfortunately, her heavy game bag bumping against her leg hindered her from walking any faster. She knocked on the back door. Once. Twice. And as she started to knock again, the door finally opened to reveal Peeta on the other side. He scratched the back of his head when he noticed it was her at the door, his cheeks turning a ruddy color. “Uh, hey, Katniss. Are you here to trade?”

“Yes- wait no… I mean yes I need to trade, but that’s not why I’m actually here.” He frowned, she probably looked like a bushy-tailed lunatic. She sighed, dropped her game bag on the step, and tried to gather her bearings. “Peeta I want to go to the Harvest Festival with you.”

He flushed slightly then cleared his throat. “About that, I wanted to apologize-”

She crossed her arms over her chest, determined to make him understand. “No, I want to.”

“You don’t have to ask me to make me feel better,” he said wryly.

Katniss scowled. “I’m not asking you out of pity, Peeta.”

Peeta sighed, running a hand through his mess of curls. “Katniss-” he started again, ready to argue with her on the matter.

With her heart fluttering in her chest, she silenced him by leaning up to press her lips against his. They were soft and smooth, still at first, then bumped against hers clumsily. It was slow, uncertain, and he faintly tasted like spice and mint. Peeta sighed into her mouth, the sound stirring something foreign low in her gut… However, the caress was short, as it seemed to have served its purpose. But part of her wasn’t ready for it to end, and she was almost curious about what other sounds he would make if they continued.

As she pulled away, she realized that she just had her first kiss with Peeta Mellark, and silently hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

They stared at each other, breaths mingling, then she repeated herself slowly, “I want to go to the Harvest Festival with you.”

Peeta’s mouth lifted upward. “Okay,” he said softly.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #eiramrelyat #submission #prompt

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Note

I hope this isn’t a sign of *you* overworking yourself, my dear! Once you have had a break, would you consider “You can’t hide those shaking hands from me. You need to stop.” with the hearts? (In the mean time, “You. Rest. Now.” with Tsari and your adoring audience. :P) Hope all your labs, projects, and papers are progressing well!

Tremble (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Warnings: Blood Characters: Penguin, Law, Bepo, Shachi

I know me answering this within a day of you sending it is likely not what you had in mind with “once you have had a break”, or “You. Rest. Now.” (and yes, I’m being a bad author and skipping the 20-odd other prompts that came in before this one, oops; I’ll get to them eventually) but this whole ask is just so sweet and adorable and made my morning very happy when I woke up to this, so it might not be very long, but here’s something for that prompt as a thank you for that <3 Don’t worry, I didn’t have to think very hard on this one - a scenario jumped straight out at me the moment I read it!

(and thank you for caring about my well-being! All of the above is going well enough that I’m satisfied with my progress at the moment)

Extremely Exhausted Starters

It wasn’t supposed to be Bepo. It was never supposed to be Bepo - gentle, soft Bepo who apologised to his own shadow if he tripped over air and shied away from raised voices - but it was, and Law was beside himself.

Penguin was, too, if he was honest. Bepo was theirs, but Bepo was also strong and with his electro caught the entirety of North Blue off guard if they got close enough for him to use it. He wasn’t a fragile human, liable to break at the slightest provocation. Wasn’t the rest of them, but Penguin was fine, Shachi was similarly unhurt, and Law...

Well, Law had been fine. The scuffle had been exactly that - nothing dangerous, nothing to worry about, easy to win - but somehow they’d been separated from Bepo and whatever had got Bepo had taken the Mink down as though he was one of them. A fragile human.

Law had been fine until he’d seen white fur stained red, and then he’d flipped. Bepo was rescued, retrieved, and transported deep into the safety of the Polar Tang’s infirmary in the blink of an eye. Another blink and Law had been gone, too, leaving Penguin and Shachi to finish off with cries of vengeance raw enough to burn their throats before making their own way back the traditional way - walking.

Running, because there had been so much blood and it was Bepo and they’d seen each other like that but never the Mink. Penguin was terrified, and he knew Shachi well enough to see the same terror mirrored in the set of his shoulders, the rigidness of his fists.

The white infirmary was red, smears and splashes on the floor. Bepo wasn’t moving, and if it wasn’t for their captain, everything would be deathly still. But Law wasn’t still. Law was moving, hands a blur against the ramrod straight back. Both betrayed his own fear, his own tension, but both did their job. Law’s back kept him upright to work, while his hands flew around within the blue sheen of his Room, piecing Bepo back together bit by bit until the ragged white fur looked like a Mink again.

Penguin knew better than to interrupt him. If Law needed help, he’d demand it, and at that moment, he and Shachi would step in. Until that moment, they stayed outside the boundary, not alerting their captain to their presence. Not distracting him from his furious ministrations. Law couldn’t bear to lose him, and it showed.

None of them to bear to lose him. They needed Bepo.

They also needed Law, and at some point after Bepo was in one piece again, their captain’s hands slowed enough for Penguin to see they weren’t steady any more. As though taking its cue from the state of Law’s hands, the blue sheen flickered, temporarily blinking in and out of existence as though it couldn’t hold on any longer.

From the ragged breathing of their captain, and the tremors running through his always steady hands, it wasn’t the Room that couldn’t hold, it was Law himself. But Law was stubborn. It didn’t matter if his body couldn’t hold, because his mind would force it past all its limits.

Penguin was fairly sure there were long-term consequences when Law did that, but Law was tight-lipped about any downsides to his fruit that weren’t the obvious. At the very least, Penguin knew exhaustion when he saw it, and with a muttered phrase in their mother tongue to Shachi stepped forwards as the Room flickered and died again.

He heard the ginger vanish, obeying the instruction, but paid no heed. His attention was on Law, who ignored him as he approached. Penguin knew he knew he was there - even if his Room was failing, he’d still register the presence, and his lack of reaction proved he knew exactly who was approaching. Still, there was nothing until he grasped Law’s long, slender fingers in his hands, forcing them to stop moving.

“Stop, Law,” he said, looking over at Bepo. The Mink’s chest was rising and falling, and Penguin hoped that meant things would be okay. Law couldn’t keep going, even if the younger man was attempting to tug his hands back.

“I can’t,” he mumbled, golden eyes never leaving Bepo. “Bepo-”

“Is he stable?” Penguin cut across. Law blinked. “Law, is he stable?”

“Well-”

“Yes or no, Law.”

“For now,” his captain sighed. “But-”

“So you have time to breathe?” Penguin pressed, before realising phrasing it as an optional activity wasn’t going to work. “No. Let me say that again. You’re taking a break, Law. Now.”

“I have to keep going!” Law bit back. At least, it was clearly supposed to have some bite to it, but his hands were still shaking and his voice didn’t have its usual strength.

“You can’t hide those shaking hands from me,” Penguin rebuked. “You need to stop. If Bepo’s stable, that means you can take a break.”

“No-”

“I’ll sit with him,” he continued. “Shachi’s waiting for you in the kitchen. Eat something, get your strength back. I’ll call you if something changes.”

“But-”

Penguin darted around him and grabbed his arms from behind, pushing him towards the door. Law was strong, but when it came to physical strength, Penguin still had him trumped - especially when he’d exhausted himself.

“Peng-”

“Law, you’ll do more harm than good if you keep working now,” Penguin told him firmly. “I promise I’ll keep a close eye on Bepo, and I will call you if anything changes.”

He got as far as the door before a second set of hands reached out and snatched Law from his grip, yanking him across the threshold.

“I’ll take it from here,” Shachi promised. “Figured you might have some trouble.” Normally, Shachi had some struggles overpowering their captain, but Law was so much limp doll by then. Penguin nodded, a rueful grin on his lips.

“I’ll call you,” he promised one last time, before slamming the door shut in Law’s face.

Trusting Shachi to have it all in hand, he crossed the room back to Bepo’s side, resting his hand on soft mink where it was still white, and settled in for the vigil.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #heart pirates #penguin #shachi #bepo #trafalgar law #drabbles #awlwren #Tales from the Heart

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smallheathgangsters · 4 years

Text

Destiny | T.S.

A/N: I’m so sorry! It turned out waaaay too long again! But I do really hope you all enjoy it & that I didn’t waste my time on this lol. English is still not my first language, so excuse any mistakes I made. Lots of love ❤️

Request: “if requests are still open - from the prompt list - I’d LOVE 9 and / or 12 with Tommy!!!! But no worries if this doesn’t spark your fire ;) lots of love!” and “oops - meant 19 and 12 not 9 and 12!!!! But whatever floats your boat xxx” by @shelbyblinded

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3202

Type: angst, some fluff

Summary: Tommy’s issue with commitment ruins his relationship with Y/N. Many years later, they unexpectedly run into each other, but Y/N is not ready to give him a second chance just yet.

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

The wind blew through your hair while you hurried down the street towards the Shelby Company. Tommy had told you to get dressed nicely and pick him up at the shop, because he’d probably still be working. He had booked a table at a fancy restaurant and you were more than excited to be spending a long night just with Tommy.

You two had a complicated relationship. Despite not actually being a couple, you very much acted like it. Much to the annoyance of his family. They wanted Tommy to finally find himself a woman, marry her and settle down. They were convinced that that was what he needed.

You had known Tommy since you were a child. You grew up in the same street and spent a lot of your childhood time together. You had always loved Tommy. As a child you had loved him like a brother. But as you grew older, that brotherly love turned more and more into the one that made your heart ache at times, the one that was so much harder to understand.

After coming back from the war, Tommy had turned to you for comfort. You had helped him fall asleep almost every night, you had assisted him with any kind of family business if he had asked you and you even offered him your body whenever his lust was too overwhelming. Simply put, you had been there for him in any situation of his life.

But it wasn’t at all that you had disliked it. Clearly, Tommy was the love of your life. Even though he had never made you his girlfriend, it sparked joy in your heart knowing Tommy was letting you be there for him, letting you care for him. Because Tommy was not a man to show his feelings, let alone asking somebody for help when the thoughts in his head were too much for him to handle. But he did when it came to you. He talked openly about what was going on in his mind whenever you were lying next to him in bed, caressing his back, trying your best to silence the sounds of the picks and shovels against the wall.

In return, Tommy had bought you gifts that had costed more than you could imagine and took you on lavish dates in expensive restaurants or to the races. Or he would take you to the country to teach you how to drive a car. That was his way of saying thank you.

But you had to admit to yourself, the complicated relationship had taken a toll on you for a few months now. You had thought about confronting him about it several times, though you were too afraid of losing the strong bond you two had. It was something you held dear.

Your slender hand pushed open the door to the Shelby Company. You stepped inside and were greeted with silence. The rest of the boys must have already finished up work and left. You walked over to Tommy’s office and knocked on the closed door. Without waiting for him to answer, you pushed it open.

Your eyes landed on Tommy, leaning over a pile of papers, looking rather frustrated. “Busy day?” you asked softly. His head shot up. You immediately saw the tension in his face relax and he leaned back in his chair. “Y/N …” he murmured contently. It made your heart skip a beat, knowing you had such a positive effect on the broken man.

“How do I look?” you asked him happily, spinning around on the spot, your dress twirling as you did.

“Absolutely wonderful,” he answered, giving you a kind smile. Then he got up from his chair and walked over to the hanger to grab his coat. “Are we ready then?”

You wanted to nod but something made you pause. A strong wave of emotions suddenly hit you and you could feel your mind go hazy. All of a sudden, you heard yourself ask him, “Tommy … what are we?”

Tommy stopped in his tracks, slowly lowering his hand that was about to grab his coat. You gulped hard, trying to understand what made you blurt out that question. You knew he didn’t want to be confronted with the complexity of your relationship and you also knew Tommy would never be ready to commit to you.

He avoided your gaze and didn’t answer your question, making you feel awfully uncomfortable. The silence made you want to turn around and make a run for it.

You looked down at your hands, fumbling with them and trying your best to ignore the blood rushing to your ears. How could you have been so stupid?

“What?” you heard him say.

“I–“ you tried finding the words to save yourself from the mess you had just brought upon yourself. “I– I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–“

“Yes, you did,” he interrupted you sternly. His back was still facing you.

You could feel your hands getting sweaty. “It’s just been going on for so long …” you said quietly.

“And?” he huffed. The cold tone in his voice made the hair on your skin stand up. Even though you knew his reaction would be negative, if you ever asked him about the situation, you were shocked it was this intense. In a bad way.

You took in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You hated when Tommy made you feel insecure, made you feel like a fool. You may be in love, but you weren’t foolish.

“I want to know what this is, this … thing between us,” you said to him, your voice now stronger than before, regaining your confidence. Then you lifted your gaze from your hands and stared at the back of his head. “And I would prefer it, if you didn’t look away from me.”

You heard him let out an annoyed sigh. He turned around to you and pushed his hands in his pockets. “Why are you asking me this now? You never cared.” He sounded bored.

You frowned at him. “How would you know that?”

“You never mentioned it. And this thing between us has been this way for years. I don’t like you accusing me of not being concerned about what you care about,” he answered.

His remark made anger flare up in your chest. “Maybe I was scared? Scared that you’d react exactly as you do now?”

“Are you telling me you’re scared of me?” he growled. “What have I ever done to make you scared of me?”

“It’s not about you scaring me! It’s being scared of losing you!” you yelled, hot tears burning in your eyes. Why didn’t he get it?

He sighed again, running his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Why couldn’t you just accept what we had?”

“Because I’m not a child anymore, Tommy,” you said, clenching your fists. You were trying your hardest to not go totally ballistic.

“What are you expecting of me? Asking you to marry me? Is that what you want, eh?” he spat. You never thought he would mock your dream of getting married, settling down and starting a family someday.

“How dare you!” You pushed out, stunned.

He brushed through his hair with his hand. Then he locked his eyes with yours. “Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.”

“You don’t even know what I want!” you exclaimed frustrated.

He sighed again and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He stuck the cigarette between his lips.

You were speechless. You stared at him while your head was spinning. Your mind tried grasping the right words to say, but there was nothing. There was absolutely nothing left for you to say to him.

You straightened yourself up, wrapped your coat around your body tightly and nodded. “Fuck you”, was the last thing you were able to bring over your lips. After that, you rushed out of the shop without looking back. You knew, this was the last time you would ever step a foot into that house. And it would also be the last time you saw Tommy Shelby.

***

“Are you ready, darling?” your husband asked from the other room.

“Almost!” you shouted back, putting on some red lipstick. Then you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You heard your husband step into your shared bedroom. “You look amazing.”

You whipped our head around and gave him a kind smile. “So do you.”

His tie matched your red dress and made you the two of you suit each other perfectly. But you didn’t only match on the outside. You were meant to be together and you could feel it in your heart every day you woke up next to him.

You and Edward had married a few months ago after meeting on a trip you took to London. Shortly after, you left Birmingham to join him. It had been the most perfect coincidence. Since breaking it off with Tommy, the city had been nothing but a burden. You weren’t able to find true happiness after everything that had happened, and the way Tommy had treated you. But Ed had helped you with that and you soon found yourself falling madly in love with him.

It wasn’t the kind of love to distract yourself from Tommy or forget him. You genuinely adored Ed and the way he treated you. And there was no reason left for you to mourn the love you lost.

Ed was a middle-class man with a simple job, who didn’t have much to offer when you first met. Still, he made sure he took you out once a week to a nice restaurant or the pictures. Sometimes, he even saved up his money for you to experience an opera together. He was the kindest, most heartfelt man you had ever run into.

Two weeks ago, you had found out you were pregnant with your first child and Edward was so excited about the news, that he wanted to celebrate by surprising you with a very special date. Yesterday, he had let it slip that he was taking you to the races. You tried hiding the fact that you’ve already been to quite some races before meeting him, but he noticed. You had brushed it off as an old romance you once had, not wanting to talk to Ed about Tommy. Not wanting to talk or think about him in general. It was in the past and it was meant to stay there.

Ed realized that you didn’t want to talk about it and stopped asking about the man who had taken you to more than just one race. “Please don’t worry, Ed. I’m just as excited to go as I was the first time,” you promised him, “Because I’m going there with you.”

He had smiled and cupped your face in his hands, giving you a long kiss. After the kiss, you put your arm around his. “Let’s go to the races.”

It was very busy that day. The dancefloor was crowded and even getting to the bar to order a drink was a rather difficult task. Ed offered to try to push through the people and get you both a glass of champagne, making you wait at the side of the large room. While you were scanning the faces, you suddenly felt somebody stand next to you.

“Didn’t expect to ever see you here.”

Your heart stopped for a moment when you realized to whom the deep, monotone voice belonged.

“Tommy,” you gasped and looked up to the handsome face gazing into the crowd. His eyes were as blue and intense as you remembered them.

“Who are you here with?” he asked you. He sounded legitimately interested.

“My husband.”

He nodded, not once looking down at you. “So, you’re married now?”

“Yes.”

Despite not having seen Tommy for a long time, you still knew him too well. You could feel him trying to make you nervous. But you were determined not to let him. He didn’t own you anymore. And he for sure didn’t own your heart anymore.

“Do you love him?”, he asked, putting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match.

You gave him angry look. “Of course, I do!”

That made him finally pull away his gaze from the crowd and directed it to you. “I mean, do you actually like him. And not just trying to prove a point to me.”

You were genuinely offended by his comment. “Trying to prove a point? You really do believe the world revolves solely around you, Thomas Shelby.”

“I didn’t–“

“You’ve had your chance, Tommy. You can’t just come crawling back, trying to make me feel bad about finally having the man and the life I deserve,” you spat. Tommy opened his mouth to respond to what you just said, but your husband interrupted the conversation before he was able to say another word.

Ed wasn’t stupid. He noticed immediately that this must be the man that had broken your heart.

“How about we catch some fresh air, love?” he suggested, handing you a glass of champagne. You accepted gratefully and let your husband lead the way out of the room, leaving a speechless Tommy behind.

***

Edward had been offered a job in New York. He had wanted you to join him and to move to America together, but you knew you’d never be happy there. You had had a stable job here in London and weren’t ready to give up what you had worked for so hard. You both knew a divorce was inevitable if Ed really wanted to accept the job offer.

In the end, your now ex-husband left to cross the ocean to the land of the free and leave you and your son, James, behind. You weren’t angry at him. You knew, he had only been following his dream and the opportunity had just been too good to reject. Edward made sure he sent money to you monthly to care for the upbringing of your son and even visited the two of you twice a year.

About six months after Edward had left, you had opened your own clothing store in London, sewing luxurious dresses that started becoming more and more popular. Even though you missed Ed dearly from time to time, you weren’t unhappy. The situation you were in wasn’t the best, but it for sure could have been way worse.

One day, after closing up your shop to go and pick up James from school, you spotted a familiar figure across the street. He was staring directly at you.

Then it hit you. Tommy fucking Shelby. You had almost forgotten the man existed.

You wanted nothing more than to ignore his presence and walk straight to James’ school. But of course, he had other things in mind.

“Y/N!”

You kept your head down as you stuffed your keys in your handbag. Tommy Shelby was like a curse, you seemed to never be totally free of him.

As you turned to walk along the side of the road, you heard him catch up with you. “Oi, Y/N. Are you ignoring me?”

You stopped walking, but kept your head hanging, so you didn’t have to look at him. “Thomas …”

You could see his shoes position themselves in front of you. Then you felt a hand grab your chin gently, lifting your head up. “Please, look at me.”

His gaze was friendly. Very much different to the look he had in his eyes when he first told you he didn’t want you. And very much different to the one when you met him at the races. It almost seemed like there was a plea for forgiveness in his eyes.

“It hurts me that you feel like you need to avoid me,” he admitted. You sighed. “What are you doing here, Tommy?”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters because I seem to never be able to get rid of you. You keep showing up in my life”, you answered truthfully.

“Destiny, perhaps,” he said, giving you a weak smile.

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you believed in such a thing, Thomas.”

“Only when it comes to you, Y/N.”

You breathed in deeply and let out a heavy sigh. “Are you still not married? It’s been so long, and I don’t think anyone should be on their own for so many years.”

“I was,” he said. “But she died.”

You felt a tiny sting in your chest, feeling bad for asking. Even though Tommy Shelby didn’t deserve an inch of your sympathy, you couldn’t ignore it. “I’m sorry.”

“How’s Edward? That’s his name, eh?” Tommy asked, changing the subject quickly.

You gulped. You didn’t want Tommy knowing about your failed marriage. You were convinced he would mock you because of it.

“Good,” you answered quietly.

“You sure?” Tommy questioned you. He could sense something was off.

You pressed your lips together to a thin line, debating whether you should tell him or not.

“Come on, you can trust me,” he said with a soft voice. You could feel yourself crumbling. “He’s living in New York. We … we aren’t together anymore,” you told him embarrassed. Tommy nodded but instead of making fun of you, he stayed silent.

“I’m on my way to pick up my son from school”, you then said to Tommy. “I really need to get going, if you didn’t mind.”

“Your son?”

“Yes, my son,” you said, giving him an annoyed glare. “I’m not some lonely divorcee if that was what you were thinking.”

He held up his hands in defence and raised his eyebrows. “Not at all. I have a son of my own, you know.”

You weren’t able to wrap your head around the fact that Tommy had a child. Even though he’d always been a family man, you could never imagine him with a son. Taking care of him, playing with him, simply being a soft human being. You didn’t realise you were smiling at the thought of it until Tommy called you out on it. “Something funny about that?”

“No”, you said, grinning, “Absolutely not. I’m very happy about that actually.”

“You’d love him,” Tommy said to you. “Maybe someday you’ll meet him.”

“Perhaps someday,” you replied.

Tommy sighed and then suddenly grabbed both of your hands. “We were good together, Y/N.”

“I know, Tommy”, you said, only speaking the truth. The time you and Tommy were together, or at least almost together, you were more than good. You were perfect. Until Tommy had took a step backward when you wanted to take one forward.

“We could always try again”, Tommy murmured, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Yes, we could.”

“How about a date?” Tommy asked. “I heard you’re designing stunning dresses for a living. Why not put on one of those?”

“You heard?”

Tommy chuckled. “I hear everything, Y/N. So, what do you say?”

You could feel your face form a smile. A smile straight from your heart. The heart, that had never really gotten over Tommy. The heart, that had always belonged to him.

“Okay.”

538 notes · View notes

bechloeislegit · 4 years

Text

#EatingAlone

Prompt from FanFiction User malexfaith: A birthday fic for malexfaith from her prompt requesting a BeChloe COVID-19 fic. [See the end for the full prompt.]

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"Finally," Beca muttered, breathing out a sigh of relief after reading the all-employee email from the studio bosses. The person that thought they had COVID-19 had a negative test result come back. After spending two weeks in self-isolation, Beca was ready to get out of her apartment, even if it was only to do some grocery shopping. It was almost dinner time and she only had a can of ravioli on her shelf.

Beca jumped up and ran to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth. She gathered everything she needed, including her face mask and gloves. She also opted to dress in real clothes before making her way out of her apartment. She followed all the proper 'social-distancing' protocols and made her way to the market just down the street.

She walked in and saw two people, both of whom worked there.

"Good evening," Beca said.

"Good evening," one of the workers replied. "May I help you find something?"

"No thanks," Beca said. "I'm just picking up a few necessities."

Beca walked down the aisles, placing a few things in her cart. She got to the frozen foods and stocked up on microwave meals and ice cream. She turned the corner of the paper goods aisle and stopped.

The entire aisle of shelves was bare. There was not one single pack of toilet paper or paper towels. She furrowed her brow and slowly walked the entire aisle, looking from side to side like a roll of toilet paper was going to jump off the shelf at her.

"Wow," Beca muttered. "This hoarding toilet paper really is a thing now."

Beca grabbed a few more needed items and went to the checkout. Someone had come in while she was shopping, so she stood what she thought was six feet behind them.

The cashier finished with the other person and Beca moved forward. She unloaded her cart and paid for her purchases. She packed her reusable bags and managed to get them all back to her apartment without dropping or losing anything.

Beca put her groceries away, keeping one frozen meal out to put in the microwave. She read the directions and placed the meal in the microwave, punching in five minutes. She turned on the TV and immediately changed the station from a re-airing of the President's Coronavirus press briefing from the day before.

"Moron," Beca mumbled before finding a reputable news station to listen to for the latest information on treatments and vaccines and such.

The microwave beeped and Beca got her meal. Once she was done eating, she grabbed a beer and sat in front of her computer. The TV was on low in the background while she tweeted about her trip to the market, lamenting about the lack of toilet paper. For fun, she added #NoTPtobeFound.

She posted the picture she had taken of her frozen meal once and posted it on Instagram.

BMitchNotBitch: Spoils of being single and self-quarantining with yourself. #EatingAlone

It didn't take long for the notifications to come in. Beca checked and she had several likes and a few comments on her #EatingAlone post.

She liked one post that was accompanied by a picture of a half a personal size pizza. The poster, HomeEducator, had written: This was the only thing left in my refrigerator for me to eat today. #EatingAlone

It made Beca chuckle. She was surprised when she saw a reply come through.

HomeEducator: OMG! BMitchNotBitch liked my post! #Swooning #BigFan #TheCupSongismyFave

Several new notifications popped up and Beca sat smiling and shaking her head at how one post and her liking a post could get such a reaction. Her fans were the best.

Beca re-read the post from HomeEducator and decided to send her a private message.

BMitchNotBitch: Hi. I saw your post about me liking your post and wanted to see if you were okay. Being alone during this sucks.

The response from HomeEducator was almost immediate.

HomeEducator: Is this really you? Beca Mitchell the music producer and singer?

BMitchNotBitch: The one and only, I swear.

It took a little longer for the response to come through this time.

HomeEducator: Sorry, but I had to squeal a little. I'm such a big fan and can't believe you're actually writing to me. #BMitchNotBitchFangirl

BMitchNotBitch: I don't usually 'talk' to my fans through personal messaging but I liked that you posted your dinner and that you were eating alone. Since we're both alone I thought it might be nice to have someone to chat with while sitting around by ourselves.

HomeEducator: I'd love to chat sometime. I am a teacher and we are doing remote learning so I'm busy from about nine until three on Tues, Wed, and Thurs.

BMitchNotBitch: That works out for me. I have a small studio in my apartment and will be working on some new stuff while I'm home.

HomeEducator: Anything you can share?

BMitchNotBitch: Not yet. But, if you play your cards right, I might let you hear a snippet or two.

HomeEducator: That would be so awesome!

Beca's phone pinged with a text notification; she read it and sighed.

BMitchNotBitch: I'm sorry but I'm going to have to cut this short. I got a message about some work I have to take care of. I hope we can chat again.

HomeEducator: I'm free tomorrow. How about I message you around three-thirty to see if you can talk.

BMitchNotBitch: Sounds good to me. Bye for now.

HomeEducator: Bye.

Beca checked the text again and went to work on what her boss had sent her.

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

The next day, Beca was working in her home studio when she saw her phone light up with an IG message notification. She pulled off her headphones and looked at her phone. She smiled when she saw it was from HomeEducator.

HomeEducator: It's three-thirty. Can you talk?

BMitchNotBitch: Can I get back to you in about 30? I'm in the middle of something but almost done with it.

HomeEducator: Sure. I'll talk to you in a little while.

BMitchNotBitch: Awesome!

Beca put her headphones back on and finished the track. She played it back and made a few tweaks and listened to it one more time. She smiled because it sounded better than she had expected.

"I should send HomeEducator a snippet of this," Beca thought.

Beca quickly cut out a portion of the chorus and copied it into a file. She made sure it sounded good and pulled up her message thread with HomeEducator.

"I really need to ask for her name," Beca mumbled as she pulled up her Instagram message thread.

BMitchNotBitch: What's your name? It's only fair that you tell me since you already know mine. Also, here's a little something for your listening pleasure.

Beca attached the music file and hit send. She waited for a response and started to get nervous when it took a few minutes. Beca thought about sending another message when her phone lit up.

HomeEducator: OMG, Beca! That is amazing. Are you releasing this or is someone else? When will it come out?

BMitchNotBitch: LOL. Calm down. It's for my next album which I do not have a release date for. With all that's going on it may come out on iTunes or some other music download system.

HomeEducator: Let me know when and how. I def want to hear the rest of the song. The chorus is aca-amazing.

BMitchNotBitch: Aca what? And I'll ask again, what is your name?

HomeEducator: Oops, I didn't mean to type that. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday, but today is not the day.

HomeEducator: And my name is Chloe Beale.

"Chloe," Beca mumbled liking the way the name sounded rolling off her tongue.

BMitchNotBitch: Nice name. Would it be weird if I sent you my number so we could text and maybe talk? If it is, forget I said anything. It would be nice to hear another voice once in a while.

HomeEducator: 213-555-1960

Beca sat up when she saw the message. "She gave me her number."

Beca bit her lip but put the number in her phone under Chloe's name. She sent a quick text.

Unknown Number: Hi, it's Beca Mitchell. Thanks for giving me your number. Be sure to save mine.

Chloe: Done. Can I call you?

Beca: Anytime.

Beca hit send and jumped when her phone rang almost immediately. She was surprised to see Chloe's name on her caller ID.

"Hello?" Beca said into the phone.

"Hi, it's Chloe," Chloe said. "Calling you now is okay, right? It's not weird is it?"

"Yes, it's okay, and no, I don't think it's weird," Beca said. "You have a nice voice."

"Thank you," Chloe said. "I always thought your voice was nice."

"Oh, um, thank you," Beca said. "So, you have a 213 area code. Does that mean you live in the LA area?"

"Yes, I do," Chloe said.

"Great," Beca said. "Maybe when we can get out and about again we can meet in person?"

"I'd like that," Chloe said. "That is if you're still talking to me then. I have a tendency to ignore boundaries because I want to know everything about people and that turns them off sometimes."

Beca chuckled. "Hmm, maybe I need to rethink that invitation."

She heard Chloe let out a small gasp of faux indignation.

"I'm kidding," Beca said.

"Good. So, tell me a little about yourself," Chloe said. "I mean stuff that people don't know. Like I said, I'm a big fan so I know quite a bit about you from what's posted online and stuff. I know there has to be more to you than that."

Beca chuckled again. "You're right. I am much more than what you read online or hear about in the tabloids. Let me get out of my studio and get comfortable."

"Ooo," Chloe said, laughing. "It's going to be that kind of phone call. Kinky."

"Oh, my God," Beca said, face flushing. "I didn't know I was dealing with a perv."

Chloe laughed.

"Okay, I'm in my living room," Beca said as she laid on her sofa, her head resting on the arm.

"What are you wearing?" Chloe asked in a sultry voice.

"I'm hanging up now," Beca replied, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Chloe said, full-on belly laughing. "I didn't realize you'd be so easy to fluster. I have a feeling we are going to be fast and best friends."

"I kind of get that feeling, too," Beca said honestly.

"Yeah?" Chloe said. "So, start talking, Mitchell."

"Yes, ma'am," Beca said. "So, I'm twenty-five and have lived in LA for six years now. Wow, I just realized it's been that long. Anyway, I moved here when I got discovered by DJ Khaled and offered a contract when I was nineteen."

"I kind of know all that," Chloe interrupted. "Tell me something that I can't read online."

"Oh, I see how it is," Beca said. "We're getting into the TMI part of our friendship. Moving kind of fast aren't we, Beale?"

"No boundaries, remember?" Chloe asked.

"Right, you did give me fair warning," Beca said. "Okay. Here's something that hasn't gotten out about me. I, um, auditioned for American Idol when I was eighteen and didn't make it past the first round."

"Shut up!" Chloe exclaimed. "Seriously? You are so talented, how could they not send you forward?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised that no one has released the video of my audition. I was pretty bad. I was so nervous and sounded awful."

"I would love to see that. I'm sure it isn't as bad as you make it out to be. I mean, you did get a recording contract a year later."

"That's true, but it wasn't because of my Idol audition. Khaled heard me singing karaoke and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Well, I for one am glad that Khaled has a better ear than those stupid Idol judges."

Beca chuckled. "Thank you. Now tell me something about yourself."

"Um, well, I'm twenty-seven and was born in Tampa. I graduated from Barden University in Georgia with an advanced teaching degree. I moved to New York where I taught for two years before I found the job I'm in now."

"You lived in New York?" Beca asked. "How was that?"

Chloe and Beca spoke for close to two hours before Beca's stomach reminded her she hadn't had dinner.

"Ugh," Beca said. "I hate to cut this short but my stomach is reminding me that I need to eat."

"Me, too," Chloe said. "I really enjoyed talking with you. I hope we can do this again soon. And by soon, I mean like tomorrow."

"I'd love to talk to you again, too," Beca said. "And you can call or text me whenever you want. If I don't answer right away, don't worry. I'm probably working in my studio. But I promise to answer as soon as I can. Okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said. Beca could almost hear her smile through the phone. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"It's a date," Beca said. "I mean, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Not like a date or anything. Just talking. On the phone. Tomorrow."

"You are so cute when you ramble," Chloe said.

"Shut up," Beca said, glad Chloe couldn't see her pink cheeks.

"Bye, Beca," Chloe said with a laugh.

"Goodbye, Chloe," Beca said, ending the call.

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

Beca looked forward to seeing Chloe's name pop up on her caller ID. They would take turns calling; if Beca called Chloe in the morning, Chloe would call Beca in the afternoon. They texted quite a bit as well.

It surprises Beca that they still find something to talk about even after two months. Funny thing is, they are both still stuck at home and don't get out much, and yet still have something new to talk about. Beca doesn't even talk to her family as much as she does with Chloe.

Beca knew Chloe would be calling soon. They had scheduled a watch party for the season finale of Grey's Anatomy and she had to get everything ready.

Beca grabbed two beers and placed them on the table in front of the sofa. She turned her TV on, barely paying any attention to Station 19 as it played in the background.

Beca checked her watch. Just then there was a knock on the door and Beca ran to answer.

"Pizza's here," a voice called out before she made it to the door.

Beca opened the door to find her pizza sitting on the floor, waiting for her. She poked her head out the door and yelled a "thank you" to the delivery guy as he waited for the elevator.

Beca brought the pizza in just as her phone rang.

"Hey," Beca said, sitting the pizza on the table and opening the box.

"Grey's will be on in like five minutes," Chloe said. "Are you set up and ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," Beca responded. "Two beers and a pizza all ready to be consumed. How about you?"

"I got pizza, too," Chloe said. "Gotta help keep the local businesses going."

"Same," Beca said. "There's a pizza place not too far from my building that has the best pizza ever."

"I don't know, Beca," Chloe said. "I think my pizza place can claim ownership as the best pizza ever."

"I beg to differ," Beca said. "It's-"

"Shhhhh!" Chloe said, cutting Beca off. "It's starting."

"Oh," Beca said. She put her phone on speaker and sat down to watch.

Beca and Chloe made comments on the characters and what was happening on the screen. A scene where surgery was being performed came on and Beca dropped her pizza slice back into the box.

"Ew, I just lost my appetite," Beca said.

"Come on, Beca," Chloe said. "It's not that bad. It's all fake."

"Doesn't look very fake," Beca said, making the mistake of looking at the screen again. "Yuck!"

"I didn't know you were so squeamish," Chloe said. "Ugh! Okay, I see what you mean. That's pretty gross. Especially when you're eating pizza."

"Yep," Beca said. "Let me know when they stop showing it."

"They're done," Chloe said, laughing. "Do you want to keep this going and watch How to Get Away With Murder with me after?"

"I would," Beca said. "But I have a Zoom interview with Kelly Clarkson at eight in the morning. I actually need to make myself presentable so I'll be getting up early to do my hair and makeup and find something decent to wear. I really should wash clothes soon."

"Can I watch the interview live online?" Chloe asked.

"I don't know," Beca said. "I know it will be on YouTube at some point. I'll try and find out and let you know."

"You don't have to do that," Chloe said. "Just call or text me when the interview is over."

"Will do," Beca said. "Goodnight, Chloe. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Becs," Chloe said and ended the call.

"Becs," Beca mumbled with a silly grin on her face. She let out a sigh and said, "I think I might be falling in love with Chloe and I've never even seen her."

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

Beca had finished her Zoom interview with Kelly Clarkson and decided to do her laundry. She wasn't that pressed to do it but she was running out of clean pajamas.

Beca gathered up a full basket of dirty clothes and put on her mask before heading down to the building's laundry room. Someone else had the same idea as Beca noticed two dryers going.

Beca made her way to the washers and starting separating her clothes and placing them in the washer. She was dropping her coins in the slot when she heard a sound and looked up. She smiled at the person who came in and furrowed her brow. The woman had stopped dead in her tracks and was staring at her.

"Beca?" the woman said. "What are you doing here?"

Beca looked at the woman. "Um, washing clothes?"

Beca could tell the woman was smiling behind her mask. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Oh, right, you don't know what I look like," the woman said. "I'm Chloe."

Beca's eyes widened. "Chloe? My Chloe?"

"I can be if you play your cards right," Chloe said with a smirk.

Chloe walked over to Beca and stopped. She put her arms out as if to hug Beca and Beca hesitated.

"I know we're not supposed to touch, but I could really use a hug," Chloe said.

Beca chewed her bottom lip and then said, "What the hell?" as she pulled Chloe into a hug.

"It is so good to actually meet you in person," Beca said, pulling back from the hug and moving away from Chloe. "Wait! Oh, my God!"

"What?" Chloe asked, confused by Beca's actions.

"Did you stalk me online and find out where I live?" Beca asked.

"No, I swear I didn't," Chloe said and chuckled. "I actually live in this building. Apartment 3C."

"What?" Beca asked. "You mean all this time we've lived this close and didn't know it?"

"Looks like it," Chloe said, pulling the mask from her face as she stepped closer to Beca.

"Wow," Beca said, staring at Chloe's face. "You're really pretty."

Beca realized she blurted that out loud and her cheeks reddened.

"I've always thought you were really pretty, too," Chloe said.

Beca and Chloe stood staring at each other. Beca pulled her mask down and let it hang around her neck.

"Um, this is awkward, but I really want to kiss you," Beca said softly.

"I really want to kiss you, too," Chloe said.

"But, we probably shouldn't," Beca said, leaning in slightly.

"You're right. We shouldn't," Chloe said just as their lips met.

Beca reached out and pulled Chloe closer by her hips. Chloe moaned into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Beca's shoulders.

"Wow," Beca whispered as the kiss came to an end.

"Same," Chloe said with a chuckle. "So, um, I know we're not supposed to go visit friends and such, but would you like to come to my apartment for dinner? I haven't been outside in almost three weeks, so I think we'll be okay."

"I haven't been outside about that long, too," Beca said. "Do you really think it will be safe?"

"I don't know what to think, to be honest," Chloe said. "But, I don't know if I can handle just talking on the phone when I know you're so close."

"In that case," Beca said. "I'd love to have dinner with you in your apartment."

"Really?" Chloe squealed, pulling Beca into a tight hug. "Is six good for you?"

"That's our usual dinner time," Beca said. "I'll bring some wine. I have a couple of bottles I've been saving for a special occasion. And I think dinner with you counts as a special occasion."

"Perfect," Chloe said and gave Beca a quick peck on the lips. "I'd better get my laundry upstairs. I need to see what I have to make for dinner."

"I have some stuff in my freezer if you need it," Beca said.

"Thanks," Chloe said. "I'll let you know."

Chloe walked over to the dryers and started folding her clothes and putting them in her basket. Beca was still standing at the washers, staring at Chloe.

"Um, Becs?"

Beca smiled at the nickname. "Yeah?"

"The washer only works if you put the money in," Chloe said, grinning.

"Right," Beca said and got her washers going. "I'll, uh, see you later."

"See you later," Chloe said and watched as Beca finally made her way out of the laundry room.

Chloe smiled and mumbled, "I am totes going to marry that girl."

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

Six months later, Beca and Chloe were having dinner together in Beca's apartment. The U.S. and most of the world was getting back into its new 'normal', whatever that is, and Beca and Chloe had been able to spend more time in close proximity. In the two months since the stay-at-home orders had been lifted, they had spent every spare moment together.

"Ooo, let's get a picture," Chloe said as she pulled out her phone.

"Why?" Beca whined.

"So, I can show you off," Chloe said. "And announce to the world that Beca Mitchell is off the market."

"You're a dork, you know that?" Beca said, smiling lovingly at Chloe.

"I do know that," Chloe said. "That's why you love me."

"I do love you," Beca said, moving closer to Chloe.

"And I love you," Chloe said, closing the distance and kissing Beca. She pulled back and said, "Now, let's let everyone else know that we love each other."

"Okay," Beca said.

Beca moved so she could wrap her arms around Chloe's waist. She put her chin on Chloe's shoulder.

"How's this?" Beca asked.

"Perfect," Chloe said and she took the picture.

They remained in the same position with Beca watching over Chloe's shoulder as she posted the photo on all the media sites.

Beca smiled when she saw that Chloe had added a new hashtag. #NoLongerEatingAlone.

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Full prompt from FanFiction User malexfaith: I was just thinking with the self-isolation that people who want to meet someone, would have to do so at the moment through the internet; meaning they would be talking for a lot longer before actually meeting, and their relationship may last longer with them already knowing so much before actually meeting.

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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theatrelove3000 · 4 years

Text

Ask Me Again

Alright. This one takes a bit of explaining. I have this headcannon that in Asgard, if you are engaged and don’t get married in under a year or so, you have to propose again. I know that’s not a thing but roll with it, okay?

This was originally 2 parts when I wrote it but its faster to read all at once. It is a lot though; this one kind of got away from me... 7,151 words. Oops.

Background: Noelle and Loki were “Bound” by a witch in Alfheim after a battle they fought in. This means that the witch split each of their souls in half and one half switched places. Noelle has half of Loki’s soul and vise versa. They can feel each others emotions and hear each others thoughts.

Summary: Loki returns from a mission with serious injuries, which prompts him to ask Noelle a question and surprise her with a fairytale dream.

Warnings: Implied smut, slight issues with a father (I don’t like the term “daddy issues”), fighting kind of, more fluff than should be possible but I accomplished somehow, swearing I think? I did base a part of this on scenes from Criminal Minds and How I Met Your Mother. There is also a crossover in characters from Scrubs because I love Dr. Cox.

Ask Me Again

Noelle PoV:

"Are you ever going to take that off?"

"Fuck off, Stark. Let me wear my cape in peace!" I say as I walk into the kitchen, said cape flowing around me.

Loki is laughing at the exchange. Of course he is.

He is the one that bought the cape.

It is black with a velvet collar and intricate beading accents in the lapels and down the middle of the back. The inside is lined with silver satin. The Phantom of the Opera's cape.

Each Avenger has a floor that could easily be called a penthouse. Loki and I each had our own since we tried to keep our relationship a secret when we first joined the Avengers, but the second that Bucky started flirting with me, that plan ended. We have lived together ever since and Tony turned Loki's floor into a movie theater.

"Why are you even here Tony? Don't you have somewhere else to be? Something to blow up?" I ask him through the pass through in the kitchen.

"It already blew up. I was kicked out of the lab by Bruce. I got bored in the lounge so I figured I'd hang here."

"Why did you believe yourself welcome?" Loki asks him, sounding annoyed, from his corner.

"I could think of many reasons but I'm going to just ignore that question because it will be answered in about..." he looks at his watch, "16 seconds. Got any food in there, Lady Darkness?"

"Not any that I'm willing to share, Iron Man."

The elevator dings and out steps the reason Tony Stark made himself welcome in my house.

"Hi, Auntie Elle! Mr. Loki, I came to see if you had the ice cream Mr. Stark told me I couldn't have anymo-" he stops as he turns the corner, his eyes finding Tony sitting on the couch.

"Hello, Pete."

Peter squeaks.

"What did I tell you about using Reindeer Games' mischievous temperament and amusement in disobeying me?"

"That if I'm going to be sneaky, to use Mr. Bucky."

"Hey!" Loki looks put out.

"Exactly! It's too obvious if you use Rock of Ages. He is the most likely to help you keep things from me."

"I don't agree."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I just really like coffee ice cream floats made with red bull instead of root beer and Auntie Elle has both!"

"I don't have redbull!"

"Bottom shelf, love."

"Holy shit, where did all this come from?"

I hear Tony stand up from the couch and walk towards Peter. Loki is suddenly behind me with a hand on my lower back. I turn around as Tony hands Peter a small paper bag. Peter opens it and peers inside with a look of shock before taking out a Starkbucks cup.

"I have changed the rule so you may have one caffeinated drink from Starkbucks a month. This is your one." Tony explains as Peter looks like he's about to cry. "You don't need to continue to sneak things behind my back. If you're gonna drink coffee, I'd rather you do it in the house than on the streets of New York." Pete wraps his arms around his mentor and thanks him excessively for a single drink.

"You would think he just gave him license to drink alcohol." I mutter to Loki, who snickers and wraps his arms around me.

I pull away from him and stand in the doorway. "As much as I love having this very interesting exchange occur in my living room, I have a headache. Get out!"

Loki chuckles and Peter walks toward the elevator while Tony mumbles about how he's being kicked off a floor of his own building.

They haven't even reached the elevator when the doors open and Cap comes running out.

"Loki and Tony. Suit up. You're with me on this one."

"I wanna go!" Peter says loudly and all the adults say 'no' at the same time. He pouts and I wrap my arm around his shoulders, ushering him to the couch. Tony and Cap enter the elevator and Loki tells them he will meet them in the car.

I follow him to the bedroom. He is in a rush and is teleporting around the room because it's faster. I sit on the end of our bed and watch him pull on his armour. He pulls the breastplate over his head and starts to tug the leather straps together.

I know he is worried for me, I can see it. He's always worried when one of us leaves suddenly. Sometimes we wake up to someone knocking on our bedroom door, telling us it's time to go. Just part of the job.

I stand up and help him fasten the straps. He lets his hands run through my hair and slides to hold the back to my neck. I finish the clasps and he pulls me up to his lips, kissing me gently.

I pull away first, breathing heavily. "You have to go." I whisper, "We will be okay."

"I know. You always are."

"Be safe. Come home to me, yeah?"

"Always." And with that he leaves.

That's the last I hear from him or Tony or Steve in 6 days.

~~~~~~~~~~

*6:32 am*

The ringing of my phone cuts through my sleep like a knife. I groan and roll over to face Loki's side of the bed. Morgan was sleeping peacefully. I'm watching her while Tony is on the mission and Pepper had to make an emergency trip out of state.

I reach over to my bedside table and pick up my phone.

Steve.

"Hello?" I ask, voice groggy from sleep.

"Elle, you need to get to the hospital right now, please."

My heart stopped.

"Cap, what happened? Are you alright? Is Loki okay?"

"Noelle, take a breath. Everything will be fine. Just get here. We are at Lenox Hill."

The line goes dead.

I jump out of bed and rush to my dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans. I forget to be quiet and Morgan wakes up.

"Auntie Elle?"

"Sorry, honey. We gotta go on a little drive. Do you want to change or go in your jammies?" I tell her, turning on the light beside the bed.

"Where are we going?"

I pull on Loki's sweatshirt and help her out of bed. "To see daddy. Let me get your jacket, okay? That's it. Up we come. Where are your shoes?"

I get her ready to go and put her one of the cars Tony allows the Avengers to use. I drive the speed limit but only because I have little Morgan in the backseat. I text Tony and Steve when we get there and pick up Morgan.

We walk through the door and a nurse came to ask what the problem was. I told her I was here to see someone. Before I could answer who, Tony moves in and takes his daughter from my shaking arms.

"She's with us. Thank you, Nurse Carla." He winks at her.

Nurse Carla smiles at him and walks away.

Tony leads me through the halls, explaining the mission.

"We were sent Upstate to find the new Hydra basecamp. Everything was going smoothly, we had almost wrapped it up when three enhanced showed up in the field. One had similar powers to Wanda and paralyzed Cap and I, but she wasn't strong enough to get her hold around Loki. He engaged on his own and was able to incapacitate them but wasn't able to come out without any injuries. His wounds were extensive but are healing rapidly, probably due to the fact that he's basically a god. He has a cracked skull, 4 broken ribs, a fractured ulna, and a massive bruise on his right leg. He will be okay but he demanded that we call you before we went home. Something about not wanting Thor to freak out. Doctor Dorian say he will be out of here by noon at the rate his wounds are healing."

We have arrived at the room by now and stop in the doorway. There is a curtain shielding my view of Loki. I can see his boots from under it. Why the fuck is this dumbass sitting up?

He feels me. He's sitting up because he knows I'm here. He's reaching for me.

"Thanks." I mutter to Tony and walk in.

He is sitting up, waiting patiently with one hand on his thigh and the other in a sling. He has a few stitches in his forehead but the wound is healing nicely. His shirt is off and a bandage is wrapped around him over his right shoulder to under his left arm and down to the middle of his chest.

The second he sees me, he takes off the sling and throws it to the side. I don't even care right now, I know how fast he heals, but I'm more worried about getting my hands on him.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he buries his face in my neck, pulling me to stand between his legs.

"Hello, darling." He chuckles and I tighten my grip in a greeting.

I pull away from him to look him in the eyes, taking a small step back. I don't realize I'm crying until he brushes my tears away.

"Hey. Come now, love." His hand moves from my waist to the back of my neck and down my arm before taking my hand in his own. "No tears. It's alright, Noelle. I'm safe. It's all going to be fine." He brushes a lock of my hair behind my ear, letting his knuckles graze my cheek.

"Ask me again?" I say to him.

"What?" He mutters, looking taken aback.

"Ask me." I whisper.

His eyes light up in realization, his arm slips around my waist again. He pulls me flush against him.

"Noelle Elizabeth Tyrdottir, will you marry me?"

"Yes." I say. I hug him again and release the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"About damn time!" He exclaims, making me laugh a little.

"There's a chapel here. Let's do it now, let's get it over with."

"Oh, gods no. I'm not dressed properly."

"I think you look damn good but alright, fine. Monday then. Put it in your calendar 'cause we have a date at the courthouse."

He laughs, and kisses my forehead.

"Will you please lay back now? You're making me worry."

"I'm fine, love. Really. I just ache and have a few bruises. It will be fine."

"Yet, when I come back with a black eye and wrapped ankle, you demand that I stay in bed for 3 days. Lay down."

He grumbles under his breath about how that’s different because I am only half Asgardian. I am more mortal than he is.

"Mr. Odinson, I need you to lay back please. Does your shoulder still ache?" A doctor with crazy brown hair comes in, "Oh, hello. I'm Doctor Dorian. You must be the wife?"

"Not yet, she's not." Loki mutters under his breath as he slides back onto the bed. I go flick his ear but he catches my hand and pulls it to his mouth, kissing my wrist.

"I see. Well as long as you are family you can stay. I assume you are an Avenger as well? I have seen you before but I'm not sure where. I have also seen what this guy can do and I hear he packs quite a swing. And also daggers. You don't have daggers on you, do you?" Loki smirks,

"I don't really want to break you two up but..." Dr. Dorian is rambling and trails off as Loki wraps his good arm around me and pulls me to sit next to him on the bed.

"You could try to take her from me. See what happens if you do."

"You're being difficult." I tell him.

"I'm just proving a point."

"You need to relax. I'm not going anywhere."

"Damn right you aren't." He mumbles as Dr. Dorian picks up the sling that Loki flung across the room. I hold my hand out to take it since he looks nervous to come too close to Loki. He hands it to me as his pager goes off.

"I'll come back after I take care of this. Please don't strain yourself by doing something reckless." And he runs out.

I look at Loki, who is trying to hide a smile and is staring at the ceiling like there's something very interesting up there. He looks at me when I sit up and straddle him.

I pull the sling over his head and help slip his arm into it. He holds his other hand on my hip, keeping me in my place. He lowers his head to rest on my chest. I lean my head on top of his, breathing him in. We stay like this until we hear Dr. Dorian coming back. I quickly get off Loki and settle under his arm as Dr. Dorian comes through the curtain with a pretty blonde woman following him.

"Mr. Odinson, we need one more x-ray just to see if everything is healing correctly. If so, you're free to go! Fastest broken bone patient I've ever had. Oh, this is Dr. Reed, my colleague. She didn't believe that I had a patient who healed from injuries as major as yours in a mere few hours." He turns to her as Dr. Reed reads through Loki's chart. "So, Elliot. Pay up."

"I hate you so much right now." She says as she forks over twenty bucks.

"Thaaaank you!" He waves it around for a moment before shoving it in his pocket.

"Alright, Shirley and Barbie. Out. Leave this one alone. We do not bet on patients in front of them, it's not how we do things." A tall doctor with curly, light brown hair struts in with an ear-piercing whistle. "We wait till we are in the break room."

Loki starts laughing, catching everyone's attention. "I like him!" He says to me.

I roll my eyes and lean my head back on the pillows behind me.

"Also, I can't exactly have you on the bed with him. Normally I wouldn't care but I have people from the hospital board in to watch me today. My name is Doctor Cox, I'm the head doctor and I get to be in charge of these brainiacs behind me with their mouths hanging open." Dr. Dorian and Dr. Reed both shut their mouths simultaneously.

"I would love to get off the bed, Dr. Cox, but I'm kinda stuck. He isn't about to let me go and if I try, I'm afraid I'll make his wounds worse."

"Want me to sedate him so you can make your escape?" I laugh and Loki scowls.

"He's not of this Realm. Almost any medication you give him will burn off really quickly. I could teleport but that will just make him get up to drag me back."

"Hmm. Well I have to take him for an x-ray and you're not allowed to go with him so I'll let you talk amongst yourselves for a minute then I am," another loud whistle and a gesture to the door with his thumbs, "takin' him." He shepherds the other two out of the room and shuts the door behind him.

I look at Loki. "You gotta let me go. The x-ray barely takes ten minutes and Dr. Dorian said you can come home after. I will wait but you have to go without me."

"This is a terrible plan. I do not have to do anything these mortals tell me to do! I am a-"

"I swear to Odin, Loki, if you say that you are a god I will jab you in the ribs."

His eyes narrow, but he complies. "I don't see why you cannot accompany me."

"Because X-rays are taken with radiation so it would potentially affect me but you need one. Just go get it taken and I'll be waiting for you."

He sighs, "Fine. If you are not here, I will come looking for you, leaving a trail of bodies behind me."

I snort. "Of course you will. Please don't get Tony sued."

He chuckles and kisses my temple. At that moment, Dr. Cox comes back and takes Loki off in a wheelchair, even though he whines and complains about being able to walk the whole time. It takes Dr. Cox and myself ten minutes to get him to shut up and sit down but once he does, it only takes fifteen minutes for them to bring him back. Dr. Cox cleared him to go but commanded that he take it easy for a few days. I help him into his shirt, and we leave.

When we get back to the tower, Morgan attacks his legs and asks if he would watch Frozen with her again. He sighs as though it's somehow an inconvenience but agrees.

"But first, little Stark, I must go speak with your father. He has requested my presence and I'm not one to deny it to him." He smirks.

I roll my eyes and peel her off Loki's legs. "Come on, Baby Stark. We will get the movie ready and wait for Uncle Loki to get back from tormenting your daddy."

"Torment? Noelle, darling, do you think so little of me?"

"I do when you're in this mood."

"What mood?" He asks, eyes glinting with mischief.

"You know what I'm talking about. Go play with Tony, I will take this little monster and we will wait to watch the movie. I know how much you love it."

He rolls his eyes and walks off towards Tony's office. When he comes back, they watch Frozen and then colour in her new colouring book while I take down Christmas decorations.

Around dinner time, Peter arrives with pizza and Loki just attacks it.

"Thank the Norns you bought more than one." I whisper to him as we watch Loki finish the first one on his own. I whack his hand as he reaches for a piece of mine and Morgan's pizza. He glares at me and takes some of Peter's.

At about 5:15, Nat comes marching in, "Okay! Odinson and Tyrdottir, get out! Go to your apartment and don't come out. I assume you have the necessities for surviving through the night?"

Loki's eyes light up and he jumps up, grabs my hand, and pretty much runs to the elevator.

We stay in our room the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up to something tickling my ear. I wave at it to make it stop but it soon returns. I slowly realize as I grow more conscious that the tickling is my fiancè's lips moving down my ear, jaw, and neck. I lean back into him as he kisses my cheek.

"Good morning, love." He says, voice thick with sleep. Norns, I love that voice.

"Good morning." I whisper back and turn over to face him. I slide my arms around his neck and lean my forehead against his. He kisses my head, then my nose, then my lips. His movements are slow, probably because he just woke up and hasn't had any coffee.

"You had to think of coffee." He sighs as his right arm, which was around my waist, flops back. The right one had the fractured ulna but the X-ray said it was healed almost completely. It still aches but not much.

"You had to say it out loud? Now I need some." I counter and he smiles a little. I rest my head on my hand that's propped up by my elbow and look down at him. They took the stitches out before we left but he still has a small mark from where the cut was. I press my lips to the wound and he closes his eyes. I kiss down to his cheekbones and whisper in his ear, "You know what goes good with coffee?"

"Hmm?"

"Donuts." His eyes snap open. He stands up as fast as his injuries would allow and starts putting clothes on. I laugh and pick up his discarded shirt from the floor. Slipping it over my head, I grab a pair of leggings then tie the shirt up around my belly button.

Loki drags me out of the tower the second I finish tying my shoes. We walk to the donut shop just down the street hand in hand. He told me about the mission, I talked about what I did while he was gone. Basically we just catch up.

While we sit in the shop, eating our delectably decadent donuts, my phone buzzes. It's Tony.

"What is it?" Loki asks as he takes another bite.

"It's Tony. He wants to know if we are free later. He's having a little dinner party at the tower."

"I haven't got any plans. Do you?"

"You are supposed to be taking it easy."

"Look, I'm fine!" He raises his arms above his head to prove his point. "I beg of you, my angel, Noelle. Do not keep me cooped up all day."

He's so dramatic. "I guess if you're feeling better, we can go for a little while."

"Lovely." He smiles at me and pops a donut hole in his mouth.

I text Tony to tell him we will be there. The second I hit send, I start to think about it. "Wait a minute. Loki, you hate parties. Why the sudden urge to go?"

His face turns to stone and I can't read his emotions. Great. "Perhaps I just want to eat all of the Man of Iron's food. And to play with the little ones. I do like children, Noelle."

"You're avoiding the question." Then it hits me, "Does this have something to do with what you and Stark talked about yesterday?"

"I haven't a clue what you are talking about."

"Don't lie to me, I can always tell. You may be the God of Mischief and Lies but I know you better than the one who gave you that title."

"I gave myself part of that title."

"My point exactly." I pause, looking into his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

He sighs, looking at his food, then back at me. "Trust that it's a good thing and there is nothing to worry about. You will understand in time." His eyes are pleading. I believe him.

"Okay."

"Thank you."

"What time are we to be there?"

"Ask Stark, it is his party."

I laugh and text Tony as Loki stands up, holding my jacket out to me so I can slide my arms in. We walk back to the tower.

*5:45 pm*

"Alright, I'm ready. Are you good, Loki?"

"Yes." He comes around the corner and I see him in the mirror. He's in a green button up with black dress pants. No tie, jacket over his arm. "You look divine, darling." He takes three long strides and is behind me, hands on my hips.

"Thank you. It isn't too fancy is it?" I glance down at my purple dress. It is made of satin and has silver embellishments at the hem, stopping just above my knee.

"It's lovely. Let's go." He takes my hand and practically drags me out the door.

The elevator doors open as we reach Tony and Pepper's private duplex apartment. It is decorated with fairy lights across the ceiling and the balcony. There are tables decorated with white cloth and light purple flowers in pale green box vases. The white chairs have gold bows on the backs. Pep and Tony approach us as we walk in.

"Damn, Pep. You really know how to throw a party!"

"Well, when you work for this lunatic for 15 years, you tend to learn how to be a good event planner."

"I'd be offended but she would be correct." Tony drapes his arm around her shoulders and kisses her cheek. He then turns to Loki with a pointed look, "She is always right."

I laugh and Pepper smacks Tony's arm.

"Hey, gorgeous. You ready?" Nat struts over to me in her form-fitting black dress and red stilettos. She has a garment bag hanging over her shoulder. I cock an eyebrow at her and turn to Loki, who is crouching down to talk to Morgan.

"Ready for what?"

"I heard a little whisper about a courthouse wedding and I am not having that." Tony is grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm sorry, run that by me again? Are you telling me that this is my wedding?"

"And this is your wedding dress, now let's go!" Nat starts pulling my hand and Pep loops her arm through mine. I look back at Loki who is smirking at me. I suddenly get giddy and pretty much run up the stairs to Pepper and Tony's bedroom where the ladies help me get into the dress and work on my hair.

Loki clearly had a hand in the dress pick. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he made it while in Tony's office yesterday. It's almost a Midgardian take on an Asgardian wedding dress. It has a lace bodice, v-neck with thin beaded straps on my shoulders and flowy fabric off the shoulder. The rest of the skirt is flowy and light and reminds me of my dresses on Asgard.

Pepper hands me a black box tied with green and gold ribbon. Loki's name is in gold lettering in the corner. I cock an eyebrow at them- both women having a huge grin on their faces- and open the box. Nestled into the green silk is a gold circlet tiara with Asgardian crystal encrusted leaves and emerald droplets. I start to tear up, realizing what he is giving me. He's making me his queen.

Pepper curls my hair, pinning parts of it up and settles the crown into the curls. They decide that my makeup is good enough as it was from when I did it for the party and they announce that I'm ready.

We walk down the stairs and all the Avengers are there, quite the accomplishment actually. Loki stands next to Bucky at the front of the room, Thor standing just behind him looking like he's about to burst into tears. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Tony waiting for me.

He smiles at me, offering me his arm. "How you feeling, hot stuff?

"Honestly, way more than I thought I would. I'm a little bit overwhelmed." I joke and take his arm.

He laughs and walks me down to Loki, who is just grinning like an idiot. Wanda stands on the other side of him. I reach him and Tony kisses my cheek before going to sit with his wife and daughter. Loki pulls my hands into his own. Bucky starts talking.

"Thank you all for coming. For those of you that don't know me," We all look at him, Loki snickers, "I'm not the biggest believer in real happy endings. But this isn't a therapy session. And you two are so great together, ya know?" He makes a noise and I glance at him. His eyes are slightly watery. He clears his throat and continues. "It's like you were..." he sniffs, "made for each other."

"He's gonna cry." Wanda says with a smile.

"No, I'm not!" Buck automatically answers. Then from the back of the room, Steve starts playing his guitar. "I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!"

I grin at Loki. This is perfect. Bucky clears his throat again, "Noelle and Loki, when everyone sees you, they see true love." He pauses, "it's the best love." He rattles out, voice cracking. "Can we just, um, the rings or something?" He's trying not to cry. I want to hug my best friend, my best man, right there, the big baby.

Thor and Nat get out the rings and we take them from them. I look at Loki's ring. It's a black band with purple patterns carved in. "I don't know what to say." I whisper to him.

"All my thoughts are all jumbled, I'm not sure what to say either." He mutters back.

"You don't need vows, brother. Just say why you love each other!" Thor suggests.

"I'll go first." He takes my left hand in his, sliding the ring on. I take a moment to admire it. It is gold but doesn't connect like a normal ring. Instead it has two green emeralds on the ends. It looks like it's a vine wrapping around my finger. I start to get a little bit teary. "Noelle, darling. There are a million reasons why I love you. You make me laugh, you take care of me when I fall ill. You're sweet and caring and you make me pastries the way my mother used to when I was upset." I breathe out a laugh, "But the main reason I love you, Noelle, is you brighten my life, which was at one time a never ending black hole. You saved me, and most of all, you love me." I'm beaming at his words. His eyes are misty from the raw emotion he feels. He never thought he would get this moment.

"My turn." I say as I slip his ring on his own hand, "Loki, I love you because you're funny and you make me feel loved. You make me feel safe. You bought me a necklace for my first ball that has protected me ever since." I raise my hand to touch the necklace; I never take it off. "But the real reason I love you, Loki Odinson, is you make me happy. You make me more happy than you could possibly imagine."

My lover grins widely, letting a tear fall from his eye. I reach up to brush it away.

"LokidoyoutakeNoelletobeyourwifetohaveandtoholdfromthisdayforward-"

"Slow down, Buck."

"I can't! Foraslongasyoubothshalllive?"

"I do." I didn't know it was possible for my love to grow with just two simple words.

"NoelledoyoutskeLokitohaveandtoholdfromthisdayforwardforaslongasyoubothshalllive?"

"I do."

"Okay then!" He clears his throat one more time, "By the power vested in me by the very bitter, old man who works at the courthouse on Schermerhorn street, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I snake my arms around his neck immediately and pull him down to me. He smirks against my lips and pulls me deeper, closer to him. There is applause around us but we don't stop for them. We stand there and kiss for a while before Tony says something that makes me laugh. I break away from him and keep one hand on his cheek as I pull Tony in to hug me. We hug everyone there (well, I do. Loki shakes hands and picks up Morgan so they can't hug him full on.)

Tony claps Loki on the back and asks Loki if he can hold onto Morgan for a bit while he goes to check on the caterers. Loki nods to him as Thor hands me a green bag with purple tissue paper. When we look inside, it's a bottle of Asgardian wine. I look at him for a moment before hugging him tightly, thanking him.

"Who wrapped this for you, Brother?" Loki asks him, patting his shoulder and pulling me away from him, an arm around my waist.

"Is it so hard to believe that I am skilled at making gifts look presentable?"

"A bit, yes."

Thor scowls and points to Morgan, who is still up in Loki's arms. She seems happy there. It's my favorite place to be so I completely understand.

"Look at you, gorgeous! You look just like your momma." I turn around to see James, my mom's boyfriend before she passed. I immediately jump into his arms and he laughs, stumbling back slightly. "You didn't think I would miss this did you? I'd never miss an event like this."

"Truth be told, James, I wasn't aware this was an event."

He laughs and lets me go to look at my face, "I was told not to say anything." He glances back at Loki.

I turn around too and glare at my husband teasingly. He smirks at me and turns his attention back to the child in his arms.

James leans down a little to whisper in my ear, "Is she yours?"

I smile, "No. She is Tony and Pepper's daughter. We are just her favorite Aunt and Uncle. Isn't that right, Morgan?" I squeeze her leg lovingly and she just nods. She's fascinated by the magic that Loki is doing for her.

"I see. Look, doll. You know I love you but I have to go. I'm really sorry, but I couldn't completely clear my schedule tonight."

"It's totally fine! The fact that you came at all means so much to me. Thank you, James." I hug him again. He holds on just as tight.

"I meant what I said, you know. You really do look just like her." And with that parting whisper, he shakes Loki's hand.

As I watch the man who loved my mother the way she deserved leave, I am struck by a brief moment of sadness. I wish she was here. Loki kisses my temple and whispers in my mind, 'She is here. They both are.' I nod and dab lightly at the tears that filled my eyes.

After around 20 more minutes of socializing with my family, Peter comes running up to me.

"Hey, Auntie Elle! There's a guy in the hallway. Mr. Bucky and Captain Rogers won't let him in but told me to come get you." I look back at Loki who looks as confused as I feel. He hands Morgan over to Pete and laces his fingers through mine.

We meet Buck and Steve in the doorway, who are standing there, shoulder to shoulder, looking menacingly at the man in the hall. I understand why the moment I see him.

"Tyr?"

"Hello, daughter."

There is a silence for a moment. Loki automatically goes into his protective defense mode and angles his body so I am slightly behind him as he moves to stand beside Bucky.

"What... why... how- how did you get here? How did you find out where I was?" I'm stumbling over my words in my shock. Why was my father here? I walk out of the door and into the hallway, Loki right behind me with Bucky and Steve flanking us. Loki tells Steve to close the doors.

"I am your father, child, you could not keep your marriage to a Prince from me."

My anger flares up. "So if I were to marry a Midgardian, you wouldn't be here? You're only here because I chose to marry the former Prince of Asgard?" Loki puts his other hand on my waist. 'We don't want to ruin that pretty dress, do we, love?' He whispers in my head.

"That is not what I meant."

"I know exactly what you meant."

"Daughter, listen to me-"

"Make me!"

"Darling-" Loki starts but I interrupt him.

"You don't give a shit about me, and you never have. Just go! I don't want you here."

"Daughter-"

"You can't even say my fucking name, Tyr. Say it! What is my name?"

"I know your name, child-"

"Then say it."

He looks at me for a moment, as though seeing if I'm being serious. "Noelle. You need to take a breath." He says.

I stare at him, the sound of my name falling from his mouth angering me. Loki immediately has me around the waist and behind Steve and Bucky.

"Look, Mister. I don't know who you are, and I don't care. You are distressing my best friend on her wedding day so I suggest you walk away before I throw you out the window." Bucky's tone is calm, conversational, but his words are aggressive.

"You stay out of this, boy. This is between my daughter and I."

"You mess with her, you face all of us." I hear from the other end of the corridor. The slightly robotic voice tells me that Tony heard my yelling and got in his suit to take care of it. "And I should warn you, hot shot. There's a lot of fire power behind that door." He raises his hand and his repulsors charge up.

My father raises his hands in defeat and disappears from where he stands. I automatically release a deep, shaky breath. Loki wraps his arms around me and rests his head on top of mine. I reach one hand out to Bucky, Steve, and Tony. "Thank you." I whisper.

Buck squeezes my hand and Steve strokes my hair once.

"Take a deep breath, Elle. Come back in so we can eat soon. It's still your party." Tony says to me and the three of them go back inside.

"Are you alright?" His voice is full of concern.

"I'm alright." I answer. I pull away to look at him and smile, raising my hand to cup his cheek. He leans into the contact and kisses my wrist, right above my tattoo of his symbol. "I love you, Loki."

"I love you, Angel." He pulls me into his chest again.

"Loki."

"Yes?"

"We are married."

I feel him grin, "Yes we are." He lifts me up and kisses me for a moment before putting me down again.

"Are you ready to go back in?" He asks. I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair a little before nodding.

We open the door and are met with applause. I grin and feel my cheeks heat up. Loki smiles and pulls me into a kiss, earning more cheers. He ends it first and sits me down at the table, sitting beside me. He intertwines our fingers and holds my hand under the table. After dinner, people start making speeches- Thor sobbing through his- and giving toasts.

Tony decides it's time to dance and, very graciously, plays a slow song for us first: For the Dancing and the Dreaming.

As Loki leads me to the makeshift dance floor, I ask him, "So, you're okay that I didn't change my last name?"

"Darling, believe me. I would change my name if I could."

"You can, Loki. That's a thing in Midgard. You can change your name. We should create a whole new last name!"

He smirks at me, "Loki and Noelle Allguardians."

"Loki and Noelle Skywalker."

"Loki and Noelle Fraser!"

"No, wait, I got it! Are you ready? It's pretty good, I don't know if you're prepared."

"Just tell me." He laughs.

"Loki and Noelle Friggason."

He pauses, thinking. I feel all the things he was feeling at that moment. He makes a decision.

"Loki and Noelle Friggason." He leans down to kiss me, which was met by whoops and cheers from our audience.

We pull back as the song ends and Tony, the silly man, turns on Criminal by Britney Spears. I start laughing hysterically and poor Loki just looks confused. Asgardian weddings are a calm, respectful affair the whole time. They don't have crazy receptions that play YMCA or do the stupid, creepy garter thing.

He glances at me and sees my smile, his face changing to amusement as Nat comes up behind me to dance. I turn around in Loki's arms and reach for Natasha, who gets closer to me and dances like the way we do when we go clubbing, Loki still holding my waist.

After Criminal, Tony let Peter pick a song, because he is a softy for his Spiderson, and that boy put on Baby Shark. The best part was all of us knew the dance and song because of little Morgan. We did change the words so that it's Baby Stark, but only because it made Morgan laugh and Tony flush.

After the Baby Stark song, Natasha thinks she's funny and plays Low-Key by Ally Brooke. That was an adventure in and of itself.

After that we had cupcakes because Stark pays more attention than I thought.

Loki and I sit on the couch after cupcakes, my legs in his lap, his fingers running along the soft fabric of my dress that covers my legs. Morgan sits on the other side of the couch with Peter, who watches her colour. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are sitting shoulder to shoulder opposite to us. Steve has his sketch pad in his lap and he keeps glancing at us, which tells me that he's drawing us. I don't mind, I'd love that memory. Nat and Buck, on either side of him, watch him sketch. Tony walks over to look over Steve's shoulder. He must have been done because Tony pats his shoulder and comes over to me and Loki. He has Loki and I sign the papers to make the marriage legally recognized by the state. It's official now. Afterward, he takes my hand and pulls me to the dance floor again. He plays a series of slower songs and he dances with me. I end up dancing with most of the Avengers: Tony, Steve, Bucky (twice; one slow, one fast), Thor, Peter, even Clint. It was really nice.

It isn't long before Loki claims me again. He dances with a few people (Pepper, Wanda, but mostly Morgan.) We dance to Taylor Swift's Lover, then Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. By the time the party dies down again, it's nearing two am.

"Alright! I have one more thing to give the newlyweds before we prepare for hangovers and go to sleep." Tony shouts over the small group around us.

"Tony, you gave us a wedding, we don't need anything else." I tell him.

He smirks at me, "You may not but it's more your him than you, dear."

I cock an eyebrow at him as he hands Loki a little box. He opens it and takes the key out, slightly confused.

"You didn't think I would let you spend your honeymoon in the tower, did you?"

I gasp loudly, realizing what he did. "That's not... you wouldn't. Tones, are you being for real?"

"I'm confused, what is this?"

"That, Reindeer Games, is the key to the house on my private island." I shriek and throw my arms around Tony's neck. He hugs me tight. "The copter is waiting on the roof. You have clothes there (not that you will need them). You have 3 days. You are to be back by New Year's Eve."

Tony let's me go and Loki pretty much drags me to the roof. He helps me into the helicopter and buckles into the seat next to mine. He brings my knuckles to his lips as we take off, mouthing 'I love you' through the noise.

#loki #loki friggason #loki wedding #loki love #loki x ofc #loki and the avengers #avengers! loki #Avengers #avengers fic #lots more tags #just pretend

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gladio-to-meet-you · 5 years

Text

God of Destruction (ft the Chocobros, Nyx, and Luna)

This draws some instances from things that have happened to me, I'll leave y'all guessing which is real and which is fabricated

Not proofread, hope you guys enjoy it/maybe even get some laughs from this!

I’ll work on other prompts I have, but I may not post anything else today, idk for sure though

~~~

Ignis

You took it upon yourself to try and lighten the burden laid upon his shoulders since you managed to get put of work early. There was pep in your step as you hurried home to change and rush out to the store. You planned to surprise him with dinner! He'd have one less thing to do and you could prove that you did know your way around the kitchen, at least enough so that he didn't have to constantly cook for you guys. You pointedly decided to ignore the precious mishaps that had happened that he teasingly brings up every one in a while; you were better now!

After getting the necessary ingredients, you pay and leave and practically run home so you have time to finish everything. It all started off okay enough, you felt confident enough that things would work out. That was before you nicked your finger and had to clean and bandage it to avoid contaminating the food. While hurrying to the bathroom for the bandaids, you managed to knock a ceramic baking dish off the counter.

By the time Ignis walked in, ready to make dinner and just relax, talking about the day with you, he's met with an absolute mess. You're still in the kitchen, fingers covered with bandaids and cursing as you try to clean up the shards in the floor with smoke lingering in the room, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. "Oh, honey, let me get that," he'd say and sweep you off your feet to deposit you on the couch where you wouldn't risk cutting your feet up. There would be a fond smile curling his lips as he opened the windows to air the place out and went for the broom, deciding take out sounded nice.

Prompto

He thought you were just exaggerating your bad luck with electronics until he had the privilege of living with you. Then he saw what you meant. The gaming system you guys bought together would only turn on and work right, not freezing, if he turned it on. The coffee pot would always make a mess the first time you used it and it would always come out tasting burnt. Your laptop was a lost cause. Your phone that was newer than his was spastic with you, you'd have to restart it once or twice a day and delete and reinstall apps to get them to cooperate.

But the best - the worst? - of this was that he accompanied you into your office one day so you could print some papers off to turn into your boss before the weekend and he got to see just how bad the electronics you used the majority of the day reacted. After an hour of computer problems and having IT come back two separate times for completely different issues, you pointed at your partner and gestured to the computer. "I don't want to be here all day, help!" You demanded in a small voice, stomping your foot, moments away from pouting.

He laughed a little at the situation but sat down and followed your instructions to find the particular file that needed printed off. Once the papers were handed in, he draped his arm around your shoulders as you guys left the building. "I thought you were kidding, babe, but technology hates you. But that's okay, I'll help you any day! In all seriousness though...why do you have an office job?"

Noctis

You decided that since Noctis had caught dinner, you’d try to help Ignis with cooking it. You forgot that since you guys were camping, that meant dealing with a campfire. You hadn’t ever done more than roast some marshmallows over the fire, you didn’t trust yourself. But since you had spoken up, Ignis gladly accepted your help.

So you sucked it up and followed his instructions very carefully, from helping him prepare the fish and the fire to actually starting the cooking process. You made sure you copied every moment he did so you wouldn’t mess it up. You were envious of the other three that were just sitting around, waiting for dinner to be ready. Noctis and Prompto were huddled together on their phones, probably playing King’s Knight, while Gladio appeared to be reading.

It wasn’t until you and Ignis both smelled something burning that you turned back to the fire, only to screech in alarm. You had somehow managed to catch your jacket on fire when you set it down?! You rushed forward and yanked it away, dropping it on the ground and immediately stomping on it to try and put the fire on the sleeve out. After you panic passed, you heard Noctis wheezing with laughter. “You weren’t kidding, were you? You really are a danger magnet,” he teased you as you all sat down around the fire with dinner, you sitting a bit further away than normal after that.

Gladio

He had been with you long enough to realize that if anything at all could go wrong, it probably would. He started carrying around a small first aid kit with him, knowing it would be used at some point by you. He’d seen you trip over nothing, break things with an ease that betrayed your small size, and he’s seen the really bad days where things just keep going wrong one after another.

He thought he had seen it all, but he was wrong. You guys went to one of the first places you had gone on dates to, hoping to recreate one of your first dates. While waiting on food, you mentioned running to the bathroom. He realized that by the time the food was delivered, you were still nowhere to be seen. Instead of freaking out like he would’ve when you guys first started dating, he just sent you a text inquiring where you were.You looked down at your phone and then back at the door that had been a barrier for that last couple minutes.

You hesitated on responding and tried turning the door knob to open the door again. Nothing. It wouldn’t budge. So you bit the bullet and sent Gladio an SOS message, requesting he get the owner to free you from the damn bathroom. You heard his laughter before he got within ten feet of the door so you stomped your foot as you pocketed your phone. “Stop laughing, Gladdy! It’s not funny!” You pouted as you heard the two men discuss the best way to handle it. In the end, the hinges were removed so the door could be moved out of the way and you could leave the bathroom. The owner was apologetic as he had been told before that the lock had been sticking and even let you guys eat for free.

Nyx

This man had seen your destructive powers in full swing before. You had gone to the bar together and you broke no fewer than five glasses in the span of ten minutes. You had managed to knock the table over and spilled everyone's drinks while simultaneously breaking them as they hit the ground. The owner was actually pretty cool about it, saying he had new glasses he hadn't been able to put into rotation yet, so it wasn't a big deal. The mess was cleaned up and your group was jokingly given plastic cups after that.

However, after that night he didn't expect it to get any worse, he thought he had seen it at its worst. Nope, not at all. He took you to a newer restaurant that members of the Glaive had told him about, saying it was great food for the price and he wouldn't regret it. He didn't regret the food. He regretted letting you drink there and allowing you to go to the bathroom unsupervised, knowing your luck got worse the more that you drank. You hurried out of the bathroom, eyes a bit wide, and giggles escaping your lips. You were glad Nyx had been in the process of paying the bill when you left the table because it would make for a quicker getaway this way.

You tried to school your face into a serious one, but your lips kept twitching and he eyed you cautiously, knowing something had happened. especially when you got back to the table and started grabbing the takeout containers. “We need to leave, now,” you whispered urgently. When you got out of there and to his car, you collapsed into the seat laughing until you were crying and gasping. He had to wait until you calmed down to hear your story, and even then it was interspersed with you laughing. He finally heard the story and couldn’t help but laugh in astonishment. You had heard someone in the bathroom make an “oop” sound and found out, by asking and revealing that you were probably as tipsy as they were that they had broken a handle off the sink. You went to the other sink and the hot water handle literally came off in your hand as you tried turning the water off. You had both replaced the handles and tried to discreetly leave the bathroom.

Luna

You made sure you spelled it out for Luna, how badly accident prone you were, how bad your luck seemed to be on the daily, but she waved your concerns away. You guys hadn't spent a full day together since you got together, both busy with your duties, but she had seen some of the cuts and bruises you came home with. She never brought them up because they were always minor though, trusting that you'd say something if you got into a fight or something. "Babe, I'm serious, I should just live life bubble wrapped in a protective bubble!"

She'd giggle at the mental image that would provoke and assure you, again, that everything would be fine on your date. It was like your luck took that as a challenge and accepted it with gusto. On the way to the little bistro you guys planned to eat lunch at, you tripped no less than three times and it was a short walk! You also almost fell into traffic when someone bumped into your side as they passed.

At the bistro, you expected things to calm down. Nope! You went to sit in your chair and when it shifted, you knocked your phone off the table and in the process of bending over to get it, you smashed your head into the edge of the table. When you jerked up from that, you rocked the table enough to rattle the drinks and splash them over the table. You paused to take a deep breath and reached for the napkins to clean up the mess while Luna was still at the counter and somehow managed to give yourself a damned paper cut from the napkins you had grabbed. "Luna, that's it, I'm done, I'm going home to live in my bubble!" You called to her with a pout. She giggled as she came back to make sure you were okay, deciding that maybe you hadn't exaggerated that much.

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alexithymiawrites · 6 years

Text

Walking the Wire

Pairing: Seth Rollins x Reader

Summary: What happens when two close friends realise there might be something more to their platonic relationship?

Warnings: Fluff, Implied Smut

Word Count: 1695 (whoops)

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“Rollins, you’d better not have a girl here, I’ve had a shitty day and need to yell at you!” I called as I came through the front door, dumping my purse on the floor and dropping my keys on the closest table. “Just sent the last three home, Mom.” I heard him reply sarcastically from the other side of the couch. I looked over and saw the top of his head, his dark hair damp from a shower and up in a bun. The TV was on, and he was playing a game I hadn’t seen before; a refreshing change from Madden or any of the WWE 2K games.

Sighing, I stripped my cardigan off and tossed it at him, the fabric enveloping his head and causing him to flail like he’d been set on fire. “Do you mind?!” He blurted out as I wandered around to where he was sitting, plopping myself down next to him as he managed to free himself from my clothes and focus on the screen again, which had just gone dark.

“Great. I died. Thanks for that, worst roomie ever...” he said coldly, tossing the controller onto the floor and leaning back onto the couch next to me. I just pouted and gave him my best ‘I’m sorry’ face, hoping that he’d take pity on me once I told him about my day.

“You’re lucky that this game autosaves. What’s up?” He asked, wrigging a little closer to me and sitting a hand on my knee, a gesture I was well and truly used to at this point, and always missed when he had to leave for days and weeks at a time for work. “Would you believe me if I said I got passed over for a promotion, and that guy I was seeing deciding that we’re ‘better off as friends’ in the same day?” I asked, letting my upper half go limp and leaning on my best friend. He pulled his hand from my knee and draped it over my shoulders, pressing a prickly kiss to my temple and sighing. “I told you from the beginning that dude was trash. If I see him again I’ll superkick his teeth from his jaw for you,” He said, almost happily. “I know, I know. The protective friend and all that,” I conceded. “It’s more than that, and you know it.” I looked up at him, confused. “I do?” “Yeah. You deserve so much more than Tinder nightmares,” he said, smiling at me. “Speak for yourself, you practically own stock in the company, you’re on it so much,” I teased. Neither of us had been in a serious relationship for months; me because I couldn’t find anyone who didn’t ghost me or give me the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech, and Seth obviously was barely in one town for a few days at a time, which made it very difficult to lock down any sort of commitment. “Choosing to ignore you and your slut-shaming...” Seth said, grinning, “Y’know what else you deserve?” He added. “Alcohol?” I asked enthusiastically. “Alcohol and pizza. I’ll go order it, you go get comfy and we’ll do horror night,” he propositioned, unraveling himself from me and getting up off the couch. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later, we were huddled on the couch, me in my underwear and one of Seth’s old merch shirts, him in his gym shorts. We were about four beers deep each and had finished watching The Exorcist. I’d kicked his ass at Rock Paper Scissors to determine the next movie, picking American Psycho; something I know would cause us both to want to sleep in the same bed with the lights on. That also had happened before, much to the chagrin of a girl Seth was seeing, who’d decided to FaceTime him first thing in the morning, only to be met with the image of him in bed with another woman. Me. Oops. Despite how tipsy and full I was from the Beer and Pizza, I started feeling a little weird once the sex scenes began. If alcohol already made my cheeks feel a little flushed, the sight of Patrick Bateman and his friends made my face turn beet red. “I’m gonna go get a blanket, you need anything?” I asked, slurring ever-so-slightly. “I knew you’d bail during the sexy bit,” Seth replied, chuckling to himself an crossing his arms across his chest. “Oh, grow up.” I snapped, gracefully getting up off the couch and disappearing upstairs and away from Seth’s comments. I went into my room and flopped onto my bed, deciding to take a little break from being in such close quarters to my half-naked friend and try to sober up a little.

Before long, I’d fallen asleep. I had weird dreams, as usual, but when I woke up, I wasn’t alone. Seth was sound asleep next to me, still shirtless and on top of the covers as I was. He was lying on his side, facing me, with an arm draped on my waist. Usually, when we’d share a bed we’d either be as far away from each other as possible without falling off the edges or draped uncomfortably over each other and one of us would push the other out of the way. We’d never woken up like this, though. Close, but not uncomfortably intruding on each others’ personal space. I closed my eyes again and wriggled a little closer to him, unsure what prompted my brain to do that. Sure, Seth was gorgeous, in very good shape, and was the kindest, most selfless person I think I’d ever met, but he just...he would never go for someone like me. I definitely wasn’t the one for him. Seth needed a wrestler. Someone who could travel with him and share the same experiences, not the hopeless creature that was half-asleep next to him.

“You can come a little closer if you want...” Seth’s voice broke the silence, making my eyes open wide and stare holes into him. He was looking at me with one eye open, his voice tired and croaky. He started moving his hand around on my waist a little, tangling his fingertips in the folds of the oversized t-shirt of his I was wearing. I felt an unexpected chill go through me with the subtle movements, and I could’ve sworn my heart started to race a little faster than normal. I didn’t say anything, but I did as he suggested; moving a little closer to him until our faces were nothing more than a few inches apart. “Did you finish the movie?” I asked, unsure of what else to say in this situation. “Came up here about ten minutes after you. You were dead to the world.” I nodded, letting a deep breath out of my nose so I wouldn’t expose him to my morning breath. “Are you alright? This isn’t what usually happens after our sleepovers,” I asked quietly, addressing the elephant in the room as awkwardly as possible. “Just felt like being close to you, that’s all,” Seth replied just as quietly, shuffling forward until our foreheads were touching. “You’re still drunk, huh?” I asked, my heart racing and my thoughts darting around in my head just as fast. “Shut up, Y/N,” he whispered, closing the gap between our faces and pressing a kiss to my lips. My eyes fluttered shut, and an unknown force compelled me to reach a hand out and rest it on his cheek. Seth responded by gently digging his fingertips into my side, deepening the kiss and pulling me flush with his body. I hooked my leg over his hip and his hand traveled from my waist and onto the small of my back, all the while keeping pace with my lips. I gently grazed my teeth against his bottom lip, causing a soft groan to come from his throat. He slid his hand up my side, stopping just short of the curve of my breast, his thumb barely grazing it. To my horror, he pulled his lips from mine, and I opened my eyes to see something on his face that I’d never seen before when he was looking at me. He looked like the only thing he wanted to do was tear my clothes off. “What was that for?” I asked, in the smallest voice I’ve ever spoken in. “Been wanting to do that for years, that’s all,” he replied, moving his hand again and brushing some of my hair out of my face. I just grazed my thumb over the corner of his lips, unsure of what to do or what to say. “Tinder will be devastated if you quit,” I teased. Seth just laughed. “I, uh...I haven’t been on a date in a long time. Kinda just talk myself up to see how you’d react,” he admitted. I felt a cold pang in my stomach. “You crushin’ on me or something, Rollins?” I pressed, not sure if I was about to wake up from a strange dream. “Something like that.” And with that, he leaned in and kissed me again, this time with a little more fire. He anchored his hand on my neck, keeping me close as possible as the already heated kiss deepened again, his tongue grazing the inside of my upper lip. I moved my hand down to his hip, getting a good grip on it and pulling it closer to my own. I could immediately feel something dense and warm pressing up against me, and that sent a swarm of fireflies into the pit of my stomach, the warm puddle spreading through my body and settling between my legs. Seth pulled away from me again, this time a little more breathless than the last kiss. “Bit obvious now, huh?” he asked, pushing his hips into mine and setting his hand on my waist again, tugging at the hem of my shirt until the bare skin on my own hip was exposed. “Guess we’ll just have to lose a layer of clothes to find out for sure, huh?” I asked, more seductively than I’ve ever spoken in my life. “Thought you’d never ask.”

#WWE fluff #WWE Fic #Seth Rollins #Seth x Reader #Seth Rollins Fic #fanfic #writing

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otterlydeerlightful · 5 years

Text

LazyTown Ship Week #1

Oops I’m late! Oh well. Here’s Day #1: Plants/Gardening. Alternate prompt: The start of something wonderful :P

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The soon-to-be class garden was coming along well. Though not yet in the designated garden space waiting outside, the children had been caring for their little seedlings dutifully every day. They checked on them in the morning when they arrived to school and once again before heading home at the end of the day. One little boy, Íþrótta, was particularly excited about the project. He doted on his sprouts as though they were his children, and he took incredible joy in seeing their slow but sure progress every day.

“It’s like he uses magic on ‘em or somethin’,” one of the other children grumbled under his breath as he gathered up his things to go home.

The boy, Glanni, was probably the only student in the class who did not care for their gardening project. The entire thing felt like just too much work for, in his mind, a worthless payoff. Glanni had only been doing the bare minimum to try and keep his plants alive just so the teacher wouldn’t scold him. Which was why, watching the other boy tend to his seedlings day after day, Glanni just couldn’t understand why Íþrótta was so engaged in taking care of the stupid things. They were just dumb plants.

Even so, Glanni couldn’t deny the attention that Íþrótta’s sprouts seemed to generate. Their classmates marveled at his work and asked for tips, and the teacher praised the child’s green thumb. No one ever complimented anything Glanni did. Usually he just got in trouble or, worse, was left forgotten and ignored altogether. It wasn’t fair. Just because Íþrótta was a plant-obsessed weirdo didn’t mean he deserved all the attention.

He watched as his classmate finally turned away from his precious little seedlings to grab his backpack to head home. Glanni glared a hole into the back of the blond’s head as Íþrótta skipped out the door to greet whatever parental figure was probably waiting for him.

Glanni stuck his tongue out after his classmate before taking a quick glance around the room to make sure the teacher was busy helping someone else get ready to leave. He reached into his backpack, fishing around for a moment before slyly pulling out the small bottle of contraband soda. Careful to keep it out of view, Glanni crept over to the row of little boxes basking in the sunlight by the window.

“See if stupid Íþrótta has such a green thumb if his plants drink this,” he hissed quietly, tipping the bottle and letting the sugary drink sink into the soil.

The sound of his teacher’s voice out in the hallway made him pull back quickly, a few drops of soda sprinkling over the shelf before he quickly recapped the bottle and stowed it away and out of sight. With a confident smirk. Glanni slung his bag over his shoulder and scampered out of the room.

*****

The next morning, Glanni walked in to find a small cluster of his classmates huddled by the temporary garden. He smiled to himself, strolling over to reap the rewards of yesterday’s mischief. He gleefully imagined what Íþrótta’s face would look like upon seeing his sprouts…shock, awe, anger, disbelief. Any of them would have been hilarious to see. What he had not expected to find, though, was Íþrótta’s look of utter devastation.

The little blond boy stared at the shriveled, wilted plants with wet eyes, his chin quivering as he held out his hands toward the discolored seedlings as though he was trying to figure out some way to help them. A soft whimper escaped the child’s throat as he stood there, oblivious to the small crowd that had grown around him.

Glanni scratched the back of his neck, suddenly not feeling near as excited as he had moments ago. He heard the teacher approach and offer soft words of condolences, but they just seemed to make things worse. The dark-haired back cringed as Íþrótta began to sniffle, new tears sliding down the already-present tracks on his cheeks. Glanni chewed the inside of his cheek and sluggishly obeyed their teacher’s instruction for everyone to return to their seats. Íþrótta didn’t, and Glanni couldn’t help but stare as the teacher ushered him toward the classroom door and out into the hallway.

He spared the dead seedlings another glance, the tiny things no longer green and vibrant, but mere darkened husks sticking out of the dirt. He had done that. Glanni had hoped to teach Íþrótta a lesson, but for what? He had only wanted to knock down the boy’s pride down a bit, right? He hadn’t meant to…to destroy him. Just because he wanted to cause a little bit of mischief didn’t mean he had wanted to hurt anyone, even a goodie two-shoes like Íþrótta.

Glanni looked up when the other boy came back into the room. Íþrótta’s eyes were red and puffy, and the usual pep in his step—usually his most defining trait—was completely gone. Glanni watched him slide into his seat and stare at his desk as their teacher began her lessons for the day, but he didn’t hear a word. He was pretty sure Íþrótta wasn’t listening either.

Although Glanni rarely paid much attention in class, today was different. He had really screwed up and needed to fix it. With another glance over at the seedlings by the window, he started to come up with a plan to do just that. It wasn’t a very good one, but he felt so rotten after seeing how much he had hurt the other boy, Glanni knew that he had to try.

Recess somehow managed to take even longer than usual to arrive that day, which was definitely saying something as far as Glanni was concerned. He normally stayed behind, never one to be too keen on running around the playground to get messy and made fun of for being bad at sports, so when Glanni hung back while all the other children made a mad dash for the door, his teacher thought nothing of it.

He grabbed Íþrótta’s box of sad, wilted plants, tucked it under his arm, and hurried toward the back of the room, swiping a second box from the sill along the way. He set up shop out of sight in the corner, determined to make this work whether or not his teacher decided to come back inside before recess was finished or not. Glanni dug out the seedlings he had destroyed, tossing them and much of the contaminated soil in the nearby garbage can. He then, carefully, selected and transplanted the best-looking plants from the second box into the first. In direct competition of how he had always treated his project plants before today, Glanni picked up each of the little sprouts with the utmost care, determined not to damage a single root or leaf at any time during the process.

He worked quickly, and the scruffy-haired child finished just in time. No sooner had he set the boxes back in their places and tucked a slip of paper next to Íþrótta’s partially restored crop than the first of the children began to file back into the room. He hurried to his chair and sprawled across his desk in an attempt to look like he may have been taking a nap in lieu of going out to play with everyone else. Íþrótta soon followed the rest of their classmates, looking as dejected as he had that morning. Glanni held his breath as he watched the other boy’s movements, biting his lip when Íþrótta came to a stand-still upon seeing the line of plants by the window. Glanni buried his face into his arms to hide his smile as he watched an amazed, toothy grin spread over the other little boy’s face. He looked away, forcing himself to ignore Íþrótta from that point on. He didn’t dare give himself away.

The rest of the day was a bore, and Glanni spent most of the time doodling in his notebook instead of paying attention to their lessons. The end of the day eventually came and, like clockwork, Íþrótta went over to tend to his plants. His new plants. Glanni tried to ignore the boy as best he could, though he did end up sneaking a few quick glances out of the corner of his eye as he gathered up his things.

“Glanni?”

The child jumped, yelping at the sound of a suddenly too-close Íþrótta who had walked up behind him. He spun around with wide eyes.

“What?” he demanded a bit sharply, if only from momentary panic.

Íþrótta took a step back to give his classmate some space. He swallowed, wringing something in his hands a moment before speaking up again. “I…wanted to say thank you.”

The mischief-maker frowned. “F-for what?”

The blond boy offered a soft smile and held out the small note to his peer. Glanni didn’t need to look at it to know what it said, written in messy, angular handwriting. Sorry I killed your plants.

“For giving me some of your plants.”

Glanni’s heart dropped into his stomach, and his face paled to reflect it. Íþrótta just stood there with that same, warm expression.

“I didn’t—I mean! Uh…” The child’s mind scrambled to try and come up with a believable deflection. “What are you talking about?”

Íþrótta gave a brief look back toward all of the little boxes at the window. “Yours is the only box that’s missing anything.”

Glanni let out a small squeak, eyes immediately widening at his obvious oversight.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Íþrótta continued. “I…don’t know why you did it in the first place, but…thanks for sharing your plants with me.”

The trouble-maker shrugged and looked away, unsure how to react to his classmate’s attitude. This was supposed to be where Glanni got yelled out, ratted out, maybe even hit. Instead, Íþrótta just seemed…happy.

“You…wanna be friends?”

Frowning again, Glanni looked back to Íþrótta, completely puzzled. “What?”

“Do you want to be friends?” Íþrótta repeated. “I know you get in trouble a lot, but…that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends together. Right?”

Glanni stared at the strange, blond boy. Friends? Glanni had never had a friend before. A friend might be…nice. Though he knew he shouldn’t, the little boy found himself nodding. The smile that spread across Íþrótta’s face made a strange warmth bloom in his chest and, despite himself, Glanni couldn’t help but find himself also smiling at the prospect.

“…Okay.”

Íþrótta laughed, jumping and happily spinning at the news, his usual energy back to normal. “Great! Friends, then!”

Íþrótta held out his hand and Glanni found himself taking it, getting up from his desk.

“S-sorry my plants are kind of stinky…I didn’t take very good care of them.”

“That’s okay!” his new friend assured him. “We can take care of them together so they can grow and they’ll get better in no time!”

Glanni smiled. Yeah…better in no time. Maybe gardening was worth something after all.

#LazyTownShipWeek #LazyTown #Fanfiction #Glannithro

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babblingfishes · 6 years

Text

Another FroodPad Update

(I’m sending an email instead of tagging people about this one because the majority of you guys have changed urls.)

For anyone who used the original FroodPad (PiratenPad) teamsite for fic writing, the host is taking down the site next month.

As before with the Mozilla alternative, I have backups of most of the text.

Here’s what I do not have:

Backups of locked pads

Chat logs

Authors / authorship colors

Time slider histories

If you want any of those, you’ll need to grab them yourself asap! If you’ve forgotten a password, the quickest way to grab my attention is to let me know via the tumblr messager (or my Discord, if you have it) and I can help you.

As for the actual text of the pads, I have these saved! I can send them to you whenever you like. Under the cut is a VERY lengthy list of the pad titles I have backups of. I can also do a text search if you need.

!!HEY GUYS -- WRITER PROFILES *Goat scream* 2SPOOKY 2c Stories 365 days of Rabbit No! A Very Frood Pad Christmas An attempt to organize chaos And the Band Plays On Annie got her gun Ask Walter Kids BADLY SINNING BRAINTHUNDERING Best Ship Around Broken little pieces CC 4 editing Care Cat!Steve. Don't ask. Cat's sehr whichtig grad portfolio stuff Catori's Little Pad ^^ Cheeroko: ES Drabbles And Possible Story Cheeroko: Elder Scrolls Brainstorming Cheeroko: Fanficing Fanfics since ... Today? Cheeroko: Has Started Yet Another AU Cheeroko: Rabbit Appreciation Pad (Aka, SPG Pad) Cheeroko: Walter Manor Cheeroko: What Should I call this? [{Original Fic}] Cheeroko: You Know What? I'm Just Going To Use This Pad For My Gender Stuff Christmas List Come keep French Company! Please? Configuration (new-new CC and biocore planning) Counter Nonsense Crazy Community Fanfiction Crazy Community Fanfiction II Crazy SPG Collab Thing 2.0 DANGER 5 SOLVE THE GREATEST CRIME OF ALL Derelict (spoilers yo) Derelict 23 and other stuff Derelict Chapter 20 Derelict Chapter 24 Derelict Chapter 25 Derelict Chapter 25 for real this time Derelict Dragon Dreads Derelict Take 73 Derpy-Nuns Don't come here unless Fish is whining at you Don't look Dr. Babblefish's Quest to Only Become Moderately More Insane Dragon Lurve Elephants and Nachos Everyone Writing Everything FRANKENPAPPY Fantastic Mister Vox Fish Does Terrible Things Fish Fanfictions Salgexicon Now Fish and Serif attempt a role play thing. Fish and its monospaced text Fish has an F in evil Fish is Sailing a Ship Fish is a terrible person. Fish is just rambling Fish writes things about other fandoms Fish's Awkward Nonfandom Headcanons Fish's Lupin Drabbles Fish's Magical Tragical Guide to Not Writing Mary Sues Fish's OC Boat Fish's Originalish Pad Fish's Plots and Characters French Rambles French Writes Stony French is a Poet Froodpad Rules and Instructions Further proof we're all insane Futureverse G-Mans and Watering Cans GW2 Cav stuff Ghost! Ghostfacers! Hangout pad Happy Little Family Happy Little Family Notes Here ye go, Redacted Heyo, Achgfd Homestead-Ch.1 How to be nice in RP I blame everyone but me I figure at this rate I should just make a Weird SPG Dreams pad I have no idea what im working on I never tire, I serve I- I- I- LOVE ROBBIE DARREN IT IS A SMUT POWERED BLANKET MY GOOT SAR Ice Cream and Knit Bow Ties Imma figure this thing out by posting prompt responses Improb In Which Pappy Dies In Which Reed Becomes a Robot In Which Steve Drops Bass In Which There is an Abandoned Lab In which robots become metaphors for Autism Spectrum stuff Laying Down The Law Here MATURE REPLY MBG Tumblr Planning MERRY HOLIDAYMAS YOU WEIRDOS! MWFGOH Notes MY FRIEND MATT WHERE YOU AT May B. we Feta get outta here May B. we Feta get outta here pt2 Muppet Baby Giraffe Fics Myth fanfiction maybe??? NOBODY PANIC (MICHAEL GOT THE D) Neoma's Writes Not Actually a Funeral Not!Derelict Nuns could use help writing a comedy piece for English Nuns does a research paper on GAY GODS Nuns fools around with a hero's journey Nuns hunts for the Holy Grail (and a good essay grade) OC ADVENTURE!! OFF Musingses OOPS Oedipus Script Old Money On the wings of steam One of the Fanmily Original stuff is harder than we anticipated PSILENCE WILL FALL Pappy Pad 2 Pappy Rabbit Old (Still needed though!) Pen & Kari's Pad of Fairytale Badassery Philosophy Notes Pokemanz SPG Post-Derelict Headcanons Princey and Leeland's Walter People Pad Princey definitely isn't using this pad for homework anymore Princey is the best right Leilani right Princey tries Original Stuff Princey wanted to write OC stuff too Princey's self-indulgent stuff Princeyfic (An Accident of the Smallest Kind final chapter) Princeyfic: An Accident of the Smallest Kind Princeyfic: Basically nothing but a mermaid OC Princeyfic: Canoe Catastrophe Pronz Psi does homework and other stuff Psi does homework occasionally Psi gets his shit together Psi is in pain. Also class. Psi jacks Cat's characters Psi plans the Derelict!Verse RP blog early because he's bored Psi reads Marsupial Psi takes out dysphoria on The Spine Psi tries for "canon" SPG Psi writes Cabin Pressure stuff Psi writes a thing about an author Psi's Headcanon Psi's Kazooland OCs??? Psi's class notes Psi's class notes and HatchWorth stuff Psilent's Hatchworth Feels Psilent's Pscribblings Psilent's Pstuff Psunny's Muppet Babby Stuff Public pad 2: 2 public 2 pad Pun and Psi Make a Porno Punny: Ask Index Punny: Broken little pieces Punny: Crack Fic ideas Punny: Ficlets Punny: HLF Th teen years Punny: Happy Little Family Punny: Justice Giraffes Punny: Major fics Punny: Rainbow! The Spine Punny: Trying to figure out how the hell Super spg works RABBIT NO RABBIT NO 2: electric boogaloo Rabbit writes fanfic Relish's Ramblings Reverse Pre Mid Life Crisis 3000 Rex and Captain. Rover! SICK ROBOTS. (Princey and Leeland) SIMNANIGANS SO I may have discovered aquabats and it may have given me some muse SPG/Avengers cross over collab-fic SS kills a lot of young women SS: Aftertheendverse SS: Aggressively writes happy fanfiction SS: Amnesia Home Pad SS: Amnesia Revisions SS: Amnesia!Spine Headcanoning SS: Ancient Mariner SS: Angsty Poetry xP SS: Annie/V SS: Dragon!Steve SS: Genderbends because of reasons SS: Just our positronic electronic harmonic SS: Michael wants the D(erelict!Steve's dick) SS: Michael wants the D(erelict!Steve) #2 SS: More Spine/OC junk SS: Okay actually writing Amnesia now SS: Poems by Peter VI SS: Possible Natalia 'Verse SS: Private Party SS: Ratchet and pumpkin SS: Spine/OC SS: Spine/OC #2 SS: Spine/OC #3 SS: The Only Constant SS: The Way Home SS: hoamwork Satyr Adventure script Secret Santa (Sign-ups closed, Santas have been assigned!) Serif needs to kill something apparently Serif's Dump Pad Serif's Dump Pad 2 Seth only starts things and never finishes them Sewing Stitches SisterofaFish's Pad So much craft poisoning Something Wicked This Way Comes Space-Opera Spoons' Stuff Goes Here Stalking Information Steve has Joined Your Party! THIS IS WHERE THE PARTIES AT TIME TO SCARE THE BABIES Tango's Reason Why The Case of the Quest of the Missing Coffee The Mythos Mythos The Rake This is a public pad because Fish is bored This is utter crap Thunder Charge Title! Too Many Thoughts Untitled 180 Untitled 217 Untitled 314 Untitled 322 Untitled 323 Untitled 324 Verse Fable...or something like that WE GON WRITE FLUFF WE LAV U HRUP WRITER PROFILES We write Mirrormask fics now. Mirrormask is cool. Well look what the cat dragged back in World Building You know what, ignore Nuns a surprise in every pad and no one was ever happy the end awkward monsters/spg campfire song song cat used to write hannafic class notes copper conduction 3: REVELATIONS copper conduction p. 4 death lullaby ye everybody look down fear and loathing in san diego half-baked hatchworth stuff hesitantly works on new chapter how rabbit got his groove back 2 i leik ur silileh lteile hat incdrop - frisk incwrites it's sort of like hellraiser except not lemarchand's fic oh heck there's a plot one time ruffy wrote angst original sexy awesomeness possibly part of Two Birds One Stone possibly not psi is the batman psi's original story (caution may contain robots) ((totally contains robots)) psi's presentation that's due in six hours ruffy's writing a thing schoolwork and such (go away) shit so many fics so little time so much writers block sometimes i doubt your commitment to sparkle motion the end. the fucking crying game the future doesn't love you the wit and wisdom of spg woo lets write pirates woo

#froodpad #long post #(sorry if tumblr doesn't cut this @ mobile folks)

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feisty-mary · 6 years

Text

Mirror, Mirror (Kenji x MC, Hero)

Notes. Starting 2018 with a fic!

My MC is Maximilian ‘Max’ Ashcroft.

==============================

In which Max tries to fix a nosebleed and catches the most popular guy in school talking to himself in the mirror.

College AU. Friendship/Romance. 1.6k words. One-shot.

==============================

Max groaned, pinching his nose as he stepped out of the nurse’s office. Of all days, he had to get a nosebleed today.

It wasn’t entirely surprising, considering today’s temperature was the hottest recorded since summer started. Still, though. It was extremely inconvenient.

“Good thing it’s stopped,” Max grumbled, pushing the door to the boy’s bathroom. He pulled a few sheets of paper towel before he started toward the sink –

“You can do this. Deep breaths.”

Max halted at that. Huh? It took him a few moments to realize that the owner of the voice wasn’t talking to him.

The guy was talking to himself.

Is he… giving himself a pep talk? Max thought, a little relieved that the guy didn’t seem to have noticed his entrance. The bathroom was wide enough that the student on the other end couldn’t see Max from the entrance despite the mirrors.

Max frowned, taking a few steps back before squinting. Hang on, he looks familiar… He paused. Is that Kenji Katsaros? The guy was the son of District Attorney Meiko Katsaros. He was also one of the most popular students in school, what with his effortless charm and happy-go-lucky attitude.

“Hi there. I’m Kenji Katsaros. I’m not actually sure if you know me,” Kenji said in front of the mirror, as if hearing Max’s thoughts. Kenji delivered the words as if he’d done it a thousand times before, but something about the way he carried himself made him seem a little… tense?

That can’t be right, Max thought. Every other guy he knew wished they could be as smooth and charismatic as Kenji was.

“But, well, I do know you,” Kenji said to his reflection. “And I’ve always wanted to ask if you’d be interested in going out sometime – ”

Max choked. Crap. I just walked in on Kenji Katsaros practicing asking someone on a date.

Feeling slightly guilty for his presence in what Kenji probably thought was a private moment, Max cleared his throat and casually revealed himself. “Er, hi. Sorry to interrupt.” Might as well do it now before he heard more than he was supposed to.

Kenji whirled around so fast Max worried the guy would suffer from a whiplash. “Holy sh – Maximilian?”

Max blinked, unsure why it looked as if Kenji was more worried about Max being there than the possibility of his rehearsal having been overheard. “Wait – you know who I am?” Max asked in surprise.

Kenji seemed a little dazed as he stared at Max, but he nodded. “Of course I do!” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, my best friend Eva knows you. She mentioned you a couple of times before.”

Max nodded. That made sense. “Ah, I see. Yeah, I know Eva. We’re working together on a project for Socio class.” He smiled. “I’m surprised you remember me. We met like, once.”

Kenji chuckled. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re far from being forgettable.” An expression of concern passed over his usually smiling face. “Did something happen?”

It took Max a few seconds to realize that Kenji was referring to the paper towel pressed to Max’s nose. “Oh! I had a nosebleed,” Max said, flushing a little in embarrassment. Yup, he was totally nailing this conversation. Not. “I just came from the nurse’s office. Need to wash up.”

“Shoot, don’t let me get in your way, then,” Kenji said, gesturing to the sink. “Sorry to hear about that.”

Max gave Kenji an appreciative smile before proceeding to wash his face. Great, I spoke to him with a bloody nose. Nice going, Max. He took his time, reminding himself that he had one more class before he could go home.

When Max finally finished, he was surprised to find Kenji waiting for him with paper towels. “Thanks, man,” Max said, quickly drying his face. “You really didn’t have to wait for me.”

“It’s fine.” Kenji shrugged. “I’m done for the day anyway.” There was a hint of uncertainty in his gaze when he met Max’s eyes. “Uh, I was just wondering how much you heard?”

Oh. Of course that was why Kenji waited for him. Max scratched his head, wondering why he felt slightly disappointed. “Not much, though I understand you were… practicing on asking someone out? Sorry for the intrusion, by the way.”

Kenji waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, it was my fault for doing it here. If not you, someone else would have walked in on my stupid rehearsal.” He grinned, though he still seemed nervous, for some reason. “I knew I’d bring my own ruin at some point.”

Max laughed as the two of them stepped out into the hallway. “No way in hell. Everyone I know wishes they’re as cool as Kenji Katsaros. Even if I told on you, no one would believe me.”

Kenji looked momentarily surprised, but when his grin returned it was a little more confident, a little more like the cocky one Max was used to seeing. “Really.”

“Really,” Max agreed with a grin of his own, unsure why he was encouraging Kenji and having fun while doing it. “You’ve built quite a reputation for yourself.”

Kenji practically preened at that, much to Max’s amusement. “Pretty sure you’re just being polite, but I’ll take it,” Kenji said.

“I’m being honest, I swear,” Max said as the two of them rounded a corner. “Somehow you make the smooth and cocky combination work.”

Kenji looked at him thoughtfully. “You really mean that?” Kenji asked, sounding as if Max’s answer really mattered to him.

Max smiled, realizing it probably did. That Kenji had been practicing his lines in front of the boy’s bathroom mirror spoke volumes about how much he must be stressing over his potential date. “Yup,” Max said. For some reason, he felt glad knowing that Kenji had perfectly mundane problems like anyone else. Like asking someone out on a date.

“I mean I’m pretty sure someone else would have come across as an asshole with your attitude,” Max said teasingly, his grin growing a little wider when Kenji cocked an eyebrow at him.

“But?” Kenji prompted, now looking a little worried.

Max laughed. Someone should have told him much earlier that he would have this much fun teasing Kenji Katsaros. “But you, well, let’s just say I can’t think of you like that. You’re too positive, too friendly… too charming, for anyone to give you anything else but their approval.” He shrugged. “My approval, at least. I don’t speak for the population.”

This time it was Kenji who laughed, sounding absolutely pleased. “Aw, Maximilian, you’re making me blush.”

Max pretended to cringe. “Ugh, please. Just Max. You’ve already embarrassed yourself in front of me enough. The least I can do is allow you to call me by my nickname.”

Kenji gave him a smile that could light up the entire school. “Does this give me the license to claim you’ve fallen for my charms?”

Max groaned, but his smile didn’t disappear. “Now you’re just putting words into my mouth,” he teased. “Plus, shouldn’t you be more worried about charming the hell out of someone else?”

“The hell out of who?” Kenji asked, for a second looking positively confused. It took a heartbeat or two for the flicker of realization to show in his eyes. “Ah! Right! That person!”

Max felt his smile wane just a bit. “Yeah,” he said. “The one you were practicing in front of the mirror for.” He couldn’t believe he enjoyed talking to Kenji so much that he nearly forgot, too. Now I’m just being stupid.

Kenji’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away. “Yeah, I guess so. I’ve been worrying about it since we haven’t spoken much before. I was… unsure what sort of approach I should take.” He glanced up at Max, a grateful smile on his lips. “But talking to you really helped, Max. So thank you.”

Max didn’t know how he managed a smile, but he did. “No problem,” he said, ignoring the strange twinge he felt in his chest when he realized that he and Kenji only got to talk because of… well, whoever that person was. He hadn’t expected talking to Kenji to be this enjoyable.

Max heaved a sigh of something like relief when his classroom into view. “Well, I guess here I am. Thanks for walking me to class.” He tried to keep his tone light. If anything, he and Kenji could at least be friends. “Totally unnecessary, but very much appreciated.”

“Of course.” Kenji smiled. “See you around, Max.”

“See you around, Kenji.”

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, neither budging where they stood. It was only until someone literally walked between the two of them to Max’s classroom that they burst into a laugh.

“All right, fine, I’m going,” Kenji surrendered playfully. He had barely taken a couple of steps before he stopped. “Oh, right.”

“What?”

Kenji shoved a hand in his pocket, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Do you think… well, considering my potential date and I haven’t spoken much before… well, should I bring up the first time we actually spoke?”

Max considered that for a moment. If the first time Kenji spoke to his date was anything like his and Max’s encounter this afternoon, then yes, that would be a very good story to tell. “I think that’s an amazing idea.” He smiled at Kenji encouragingly. “If someone asked me out like that, I know I’d love it for sure.”

Before Kenji could reply, the professor called out from inside the classroom. “Ashcroft, are you or are you not going to my class?”

Oops! Max gave Kenji a two-finger salute before scrambling to get to class. “Good luck, Kenji!”

The last thing Max saw was Kenji’s laughing face, and somehow, that was enough to make Max smile the rest of the day, too.

#kenji katsaros #kenji x mc #hero #choices hero #playchoices #mary tries to write fan fiction #fan fiction #maximilian ashcroft #dumb future college boyfriends #lmao i love them #even though #pronouns make me weep

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wheregayeldhidsthewips · 4 years

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You Can’t Stop Yourself From Falling

Dude, I don’t even remember writing this. I also don’t remember why I stopped, because I made a point of getting these SPN Summer Gen stories finished.

WIP, like everything else here.

Title: You Can’t Stop Yourself From Falling

Author: Wouldn’t you like to know <ljuser=”gayeld”>

Recipient: <ljuser=”kaethe”>

Prompt: A case involving a literary or mythological character.

Disclaimer: Mine. No, seriously, mine. Prove otherwise. Unless you’re Eric Kripke or, you know, the CW, Warner Bros, then, uh, my bad.

Summary: <--Oops?

“Dean! Come on, Dean, please, I just need you to step back a little, okay. Just a couple steps… Please. NO!”

---

Sam stood in the dusty junkyard, listening more to the sounds that weren’t there than the ones that were. No music, none of the rhythmic tapping that normally accompanied Dean at work. No whisper of the stupid, loving pet names his brother usual lavished on the car. Just the muted sounds of tools on metal.

Jesus, he didn’t know what to do. Dean was scaring the shit out of him and everything he’d done to try and help just seem to push his brother further away from him, closer to the edge he’d been dancing around ever since dad had died.

Maybe bringing him another hunt so soon after the last was a mistake. All the hunt for the Rakshasa had done was widen the rift between them and leave Dean more worn around the edges than before.

He could call the Roadhouse. Ask Ellen if she could pass this hunt on to someone else.

“What do you want, Sam?”

Dean looked drawn and tired, the circles under his eyes deeper than they’d been at dinner last night and Sam had to bite his lower lip to keep the words from slipping out. I want you to be all right. I want us to be all right. I want you to let me help you with this.

“There’s been another one.”

“Same as the others?” Dean wiped his hands on a dusty rag and shoved it in his back pocket before reaching for the stack of printouts in Sam’s hand.

“Looks like it.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Dean’s and was grateful when his brother didn’t pull away. “Coroner’s office ruled it death by misadventure, accidental drowning.”

“And the body was near the river?” Dean flipped quickly through the pages, stopping at a picture of a smiling couple.

“A place called Cat Island. It’s in the middle of the river, between Arkansas and Mississippi.” He took the papers back, shifted through them until he found the one he wanted. “Coroner’s report says the bones had evidence of bite marks but they were unable to match them to any known species.”

“Yeah, sounds like our kind of thing.” Dean sighed and rubbed a weary hand across the back of his neck. “But I am not taking that freakin’ minivan. I will walk to Arkansas first.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Sam couldn’t help laughing at the sour look on Dean’s face.

“Dude, I would rather drive a Gremlin,” Dean replied, disgust evident in his voice.

“A Gremlin? Man, I had no idea you swung that way.” Sam danced away from the fist Dean aimed at his shoulder and started back toward the house, feeling lighter than he had in days.

---

“I hate you.”

Sam bit back his laughter and followed his brother through the parking lot. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“It’s a Volvo, Sam.” The horror on Dean’s face made every penny Joseph Perry had spent on the rental worth it.

“They’re very safe cars.”

“They’re pieces of crap. Ugly pieces of crap.” Dean scowled as he opened the door to the police station and ushered his brother in. “And they faked all those crash test results. So, really, they’re ugly, unsafe pieces of crap.”

“Dude, you used to love that one Bobby had in his yard.” Sam reminded him with a grin.

“I did not. Besides, Bobby’s was a classic. A 1962 P1800, not—” Dean hooked his thumb back over his shoulder as he strode past Sam. “—a piece of crap.”

“Whatever, dude, you know you loved that car.”

Sam couldn’t help smirking as Dean glared at him before stopping in front of a battered desk, manned by matronly looking woman in a police uniform.

“Can I help you boys?” she asked, eyeing them warily.

“I certainly hope so, ma’am,” Dean replied, turning on the charm. “I’m Warden Tyler, this is Warden Kramer, I spoke to an Officer Kramer on the phone earlier and—”

“Oh, you’re the Fish and Game boys, the ones looking for the swamp monster.”

“I don’t know that I’d put it quite like—”

“Files are over there.” She pointed to a beat-up box sitting on the counter behind her desk. “One of you’s gonna need to sign a receipt for them.”

Sam leaned over the desk and signed “Warden J. Kramer” as illegibly as possible while Dean grabbed the box of files. “Can you point us in the direction of the Coroner’s Officer?”

---

“Man, I hate the Coroner’s office.” Dean shed his jacket and tie, tossing them carelessly in the direction of the nearest chair before belly-flopping onto his bed. “It’s gonna be a week before I get rid of that smell.”

“The body or the Coroner’s assistant?” Sam dropped a stack of folders on the small table next to the door and plopped down on the second bed, kicking his shoes off and breathing a sigh of relief. “What the hell was that cologne he was wearing?”

“Ode to dead skunk,” Dean mumbled into his pillow before turning over. “You catch those mark on the bones?”

“Yeah.”

“Look like any animal you ever seen?”

“No.” Sam scooted up on the bed and jammed a pillow under his head before turning to look at Dean. “They looked more like human teeth marks.”

“Only pointier.” Dean flashed him a half-hearted smile, all teeth and no humor.

“So, something humanoid? Another Wendigo, you think?”

“Nah.”

“Too far South?”

“Too much meat left on the bones.”

Sam groaned and rolled over to plant his face in the pillow. “Too much information, man.”

Dean sniggered and Sam could hear him getting up and moving around the room followed by the sound of the shower coming on, the familiar sounds lulling him to sleep.

“Sam. Sammy, wake up. Pizza’s here.”

Sam wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only that it was fully dark outside the windows as he rose and crossed over to where Dean had balanced the pizza box across the folders spread out over the table. “You get any sleep?”

Dean ignored the question, which Sam took to be a no, and gestured toward the map in front of him. “Looks like whatever it is it’s moving steadily down river.”

“You think it’s headed toward the ocean or just trying to spread out its kills to keep the cops from picking up a pattern?” Sam dropped into the second chair and pulled out a piece of pizza.

“It’s hard to tell without knowing what it is.” Dean shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “I figured tomorrow you can hit the library and see if you can find any local legends.”

“Uh huh. And what’ll you being doing while I’m doing all the research?” Sam asked, a note of challenge in his voice.

“I thought I’d go down to the river and see what—”

“What? No way, Dean.”

“No way what?” Dean looked up at him, confused.

“You’re going down to that river alone.”

“I—Why the hell not?”

“Why the hell not? Dean, people are being eaten!” Sam threw his hands up in frustration and stared at his brother. Jesus, what was so hard to understand about that.

“I know how to take care of myself, Sam!”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, but—”

“But what, Sam?” Several files slid off the table, scattering their contents as Dean jumped to his feet.

“But that’s no reason to take stupid chances.”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“Damn it, Dean, stop putting words in my mouth!” Sam returned his brother’s scowl, with interest. “You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Long seconds past as they stared angrily at one another. “Fine, you think it’s so safe to go out there alone, you go to the library and I’ll go out to the—”

“The hell you will!”

“Why not, Dean? Huh?” Sam asked, stepping up to his brother. “Why is it all right for you to go, but not me?”

“I didn’t say—That’s not—Whatever.” Dean turned away and started gathering the fallen pages. “Fine, we’ll both go to the library, Nancy Drew.”

“Fine.” Sam dropped back into the chair and stared disinterestedly at his pizza, picking aimlessly at the toppings until he realized that Dean had frozen over something out of the spilled files. “Dean? What is it?”

“I—Nothing.” Dean shoved what Sam could now tell was a photograph back into the folder and slammed it shut.

“Dean.” Sam leaned forward and pulled the folder out of his brother’s hand and flipped it open. On top lay a picture of a car smashed beyond recognition.

“One of the victims was in a car accident a couple months before he was killed and—” Dean gestured awkwardly at the file. “The police station must have gotten that file mixed in with the rest.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam closed the folder and set it carefully back on the table, an uncomfortable silence settling between them.

---

Sam held back a sigh as he pulled his boot out the thick mud with a sickening squelch. The library had proved useless, too many tall-tales and legends built up around the river to be any help, at least until they had more information.

Which left them slogging through the mud and debris along the river, the air between them still thick and silent in the wake of last night’s argument.

“Sam.” Something yellow fluttered on the breeze, flickering in and out of sight between the trees, and Sam followed with a quick nod.

Police tape, one end left tied to a tree, marking the site where the last body had been found.

Sam ducked beneath a branch and crouched next to where Dean was examining marks in the soft soil. “What are those?”

“They look like bird tracks, only bigger.” Dean outlined the print. “Where wasn’t anything about a killer emu in those legends, was there?”

“Dude, how do you even know what an emu is?” Sam snorted and bent closer to the tracks. Dean was right, they looked like they’d been made a bird, a really big one. “Thunderbird?”

“Nah.” Dean gestured at the thick, intertwined braches over their heads. “No way one would fit in here.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and cocked his head to the side.

“What?” Sam looked around the clearing and tried to listen for whatever had caught Dean’s attention.

“You hear that?” Dean rose slowly, stepping out the clearing and toward the river.

“No, man, what?” Sam caught up to him, cocking his own head and listening intently, but only heard the rush of the river.

“I—Nothing, I guess. It was just—” Dean shook his head and gazed blankly at Sam for a long moment. “Nothing. We should get back to the room, see if we can find out what Big Bird is up to these days. Big yellow bastard always did creep me out.”

---

“Anything?”

Sam sighed and closed the laptop. “No. There are plenty of legends around here and things that prey on humans, but no birds that I can come up with.”

“Something imported?” Dean slid the last piece into the gun he’s been cleaning and looks over to toward the window, frowning.

“Maybe, but that leaves the field wide open.” Sam watched his brother for a long moment and tries to put his finger on why the picture in front of him seems wrong, off. There’s an air of distraction around Dean, something other than the pain and grief that’s been clinging to him since the accident. But instead of bringing relief, Sam feels something clench tight and worrisome low in his gut. “Dean, what is it?”

“Huh?” Dean turned back to him, the same blank look that he gave Sam down at the river, before shaking his head and smiling. “Just tired, I guess.”

“You sure?”

Dean shrugged and looked out the window. “Go to bed, Sam.”

---

A soft rustling brought Sam instantly awake and he rolled quietly to his side, checking the bed next to his for his brother.

Empty.

He scanned the rest of the room, almost missing the silent figure at the window. “Dean?”

Dean turned away from the window and Sam felt his breath catch in his throat at the depth of sorrow reflected back it him before Dean seemed to shake himself out of it. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Sammy. Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t tell me nothing, man.” Sam rolled out of the bed and crossed to stand next to his brother. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we got back from the river this afternoon. What’s going on?”

“I told you, Sam, it’s nothing. I just—” Dean shrugged and looked out the window again. “Let it go, Sam. It’s not important.”

“If it’s keeping you up at night, then, yes, it is.” Sam leaned into the window and tilted his head, trying to meet Dean’s eyes. “Dean, what did you hear down at the river?”

He shrugged again, still gazing into the night. “Nothing.”

“Dean!”

“Sam, please, just go back to sleep.” His voice was soft, imploring, and Sam was torn between giving his brother the space he was asking for and the worrying knot in his gut. “I swear, Sam, it’s nothing. Just a weird dream.”

“Was it about Dad?”

Dean’s head drops forward and Sam holds his breath, silently begging his brother to trust him with this.

“No, it was—“ Dean rubs a hand across his face and sighs. “It was Mom, she was singing, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying and—“ He shrugs and looks back out the window. “I woke up.”

“Oh.” Sam didn’t have an answer for this, didn’t even know where to start. Mom, her loss, had always been a touchy subject, an unspoken pain shared between Dean and Dad that Sam had never felt the way they had.

“Let’s get some sleep.” Dean dropped onto the edge of his bed and rolled away from Sam, burying his face in the pillow.

Sam stood, a moment longer, and watched, wondered how you could know someone your entire life and still not know what to say to them.

---

Alkonost – Russian/harmless?

Bennu – Eygptian/benevolent

Camulatz – Mayan, ate heads

Harpies – Greek, various myths, angel of death, bringer of death

Quetzalcoatl – Aztec/too big

Raven – Native American/Trickster?

Roc – carried off and ate elephants??

Sachamo – Chinese, feeds on bears?/too big

Simurgh – Persian/benevolent

Sirin/Siren – Russian/Greek, lure sailors to their deaths with song?

Swan Maiden – shapershifter/skinwalker? victim in mythology

Thunderbird – Native American/too big

Ziz – Talmudic/too big

Sam ignored the cramp in his hand and scanned the list of creatures once more. So much for getting more information. It may have narrowed the field some, but not enough to be of any real use.

“Find anything?” Dean sat heavily in the chair across from him and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Lots of things.” Sam closed the book on Asian mythology and leaned back in his chair. “Too many. Most of them are too big, too small, not known for eating people, not—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture.” Dean waved a hand at him, leaning further back in the chair. “We need to talk to the families, see if they can tell us what the victims were doing down at the river in the first place.”

“You sure you’re up to this?” Sam already knows what Dean’s answer will be, but he can see the bags under his brother’s eyes, the tired slouch of his body.

“I’m fine, Sam. Let it go.”

“Right.” Sam shifts through his pile of notes until he finds the list of victims. “You want to start with the most recent ones?”

“I already called the mother of the last victim, Katie Tyler.” Dean stood slowly and paused, tilting his head to the right.

“And?”

“What?” Dean startled, looking at Sam as though he’d forgotten about him.

“You called the last victim’s mother?” Sam prompted, gathering his notes and stuffing them in his backpack.

“She said it was no problem if we came by.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, eyes drifting toward the nearest window.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” That knot Sam had been trying to ignore since he’d woken, to find Dean once more standing at the window gazing out, tightens even more.

---

“Is he all right?”

Sam looked over his shoulder to where Dean was standing on the sidewalk, a distracted frown on his face, his head once again tilted to the side as if he were listening to something. “I don’t—Why do you ask?”

“He just—something about him makes me think of Katie in the days before…” her voice trailed off as they both watched Dean for a moment longer. “It’s probably just my imagination.”

Sam nodded

Will

Brenna

Jennie

Lucy

#wip it good #supernatural #summer gen?#i don't even remember what the creature was #a siren maybe?#sam nodded and...?

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bibliosexxual · 7 years

Text

accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?” me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic” boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

“No. I wasn’t finished,” Stiles says. “We also ate lunch together last Monday. I forgot to bring my lunch, so I was just eating a bag of chips from the vending machine and he offered me half his tuna sandwich.”

It had been one of the nicest office lunch breaks he’d ever had, actually. Stiles was sitting on the low brick wall at the edge of the picnic area, and to his surprise, Derek sat down there, too, in his probably-thousand-dollar suit, while Stiles gaped at him a little for doing it.

Derek had then continued to sit there even after giving away the sandwich. It had been clear from the way he kept glancing at Stiles that he didn’t know what to say but he wanted to say something, so Stiles had prompted, “Got any weekend plans?” and Derek had said he didn’t have any, so Stiles had rambled for a while about his weekend plans, which involved going down to San Francisco for the weekend for a Bastille concert. Derek sat there and listened attentively the whole time, which, in Stiles’ experience, not many people would do. He also said he didn’t know who Bastille was. That was a little surprising, but then again, Stiles supposed Derek didn’t have a lot of time to absorb pop culture, what with running the foundation and owning a dog and all.

He’d obviously had a bit of time at that moment, though, so Stiles had pulled out his phone and played Derek some of their songs, and Derek had nodded his head subtly to the beat and smiled a little and instantly made Stiles’ crush on him a whole lot more intense.

“And that’s it,” he concludes now. “So do you think he’s into me at all?“

"How should I know? I’m not a mind reader.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Stiles mutters, thinking about all the times she’s guessed ahead of time what he was going to get her for her birthday and all the times she’s taken one look at him and known with an uncanny certainty that he’s just gotten laid or, more commonly, that he’s just spent the whole night playing video games and ignoring life’s responsibilities.

Now Lydia sighs. “Look, all I know is, office romances are tricky. Even if he is interested, he’d probably feel like he can’t ask you out because of the power dynamic. You’ll have to make the first move.”

“Yeah, right,” Stiles snorts.

Lydia raises her eyebrows like, I thought so. “Stiles…” she says, “as your friend who’s concerned for your happiness, I’m going to ask you something: Have you gone on a single date in the last month? The last six months?”

Stiles resists the urge to squirm under her knowing gaze. She could be a world-class interrogator if she ever wanted a career change. “Okay, but… I’ve been busy, okay? It has nothing to do with Der— Mr. Hale. As if. That’s ridiculous. Totally ludicrous.”

“I see,” Lydia says, unimpressed.

The next thing he knows, she’s installing a dating app on his phone and filling in a profile that’s a hundred times more charming and put-together than anything Stiles could’ve come up with on his own and finagling a promise out of him that he’ll at least give it a decent try.

Stiles gives his word, but privately he wonders if he can keep it.

It was actually Derek who inspired Stiles to apply to work at the Howls for Change Foundation to begin with. The local newspaper interviewed him a couple of years ago about the foundation, back when it was just starting up. Stiles had been just skimming, not planning to sit down and read the paper for half an hour, but that’s just what he ended up doing, drawn in by Derek’s interview—his enthusiasm and love for wolves, his eloquence in replying to the journalist’s questions, the accompanying picture of him… He was in jogging clothes, crouched on a trail out in the woods somewhere and hugging his German Shepherd while flashing the camera a rare, genuine smile so bright it made Stiles feel warm all over, and yeah, Stiles applied to this job about 75% because he loved wildlife conservation and about 25% because he wanted to see Derek Hale smile like that again, and possibly be the one to make him do it.

The feeling has only gotten stronger since then.

Derek likes to act like he’s just one of the employees, even though he’s not only the boss but also the organization’s founder. He has his own corner office, but he mainly just uses it for meeting with local policymakers and other bigwigs. The rest of the time, he has a cubicle where he plugs away on his laptop or just sits contemplatively, eating an apple or listening to music on an old CD player he keeps in the top drawer. He eats lunch outside in the picnic area with his employees, too, when it’s nice out. He brings bag lunches from home, which Stiles finds oddly charming.

Still, Stiles can see Derek is set apart. No matter how much he acts like he’s just an employee, no one ever forgets he’s the boss. When he walks into the break room, a hush always falls, and if they were talking about something gossipy or off-color before he walked in, they always hastily change the subject to something more workplace-appropriate and bland, like the weather or what’s for lunch, and Derek nods politely at them, gets his coffee, and leaves without a word. Stiles thinks he looks kind of lonely. He always comes off as hardworking and unpretentious, but he also doesn’t seem that fond of small talk or smiling, and it clearly makes a lot of people feel awkward around him.

For all the great work Derek is doing in the conservation world, he doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends.

Even so, the thought of Stiles asking him out and Derek actually saying yes… Well. It’s laughable, really.

So Lydia says, “Promise me you’ll at least try the app?” and Stiles says he will.

Two weeks and several mediocre first dates later, Stiles is sitting in a budget meeting at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning, poking at his phone under the table. He doesn’t make any attempt to stay on task first; whenever Greenberg starts talking in these meetings, like clockwork Stiles always gets this unbearable itch to look at his phone or pick at his nails or even just stare blankly out the window, anything but listen to him.

He deletes a dozen spam emails and replies to a couple punny texts from Scott from last night before he finally, reluctantly thumbs over to his unread messages on the dating app. By this point he’s not very optimistic. Turns out he was right to be, because someone has sent him an unsolicited dick pic.

Instinctively he sinks down a little lower in his seat. It turns out to be an unnecessary precaution, though. One glance around confirms it: the woman to his left is absorbed in doodling Power Rangers on her notepad, and the man to his right is gazing straight ahead into space, so zoned out he’s practically comatose.

Stiles looks back down at his phone.

It’s a nice dick pic, objectively. Very artistic, very tasteful. The guy, whose head is cropped out of the photo, is sprawled on his back on a turquoise sheet, soft sunlight falling on his naked torso, one long-fingered hand curled lazily around his erection. A+ for aesthetics.

Still, Stiles did not wake up this morning after only three hours of sleep (what can he say, he got distracted by Wikipedia again) just so he could see a complete stranger’s junk.

The sad thing is, this isn’t even the first time this has happened, or the third, or the fifth… Would it kill these guys to say hello first?

Stiles screenshots it, then pastes it into a new email to Lydia (he’s been keeping her apprised of his dating app adventures, at her insistence). He captions it with a grumpy, “guess how my morning is going.”

She’s the one who thought this app would be such a great idea in the first place. Maybe now, face-to-face with what Stiles has had to put up with on a daily basis for the past two weeks, she’ll finally admit the whole online dating thing was a bad idea and stop shooting him pitying looks whenever the subject of Derek Hale comes up.

After that, he blocks the dick-pic-sender and puts his phone away. Greenberg is still talking, still meticulously going over lots of hard-to-read charts, and Stiles’ gaze inevitably wanders to fall on Derek instead. Derek, who’s sitting at the head of the table, looking at something on his phone and not even trying to hide it.

Stiles supposes if you’re the founder of the company, you don’t have to pretend to be paying attention while Greenberg talks.

Derek’s phone buzzes in his hand; Stiles can just barely hear it. Derek taps at the screen while lifting his glass of water to his mouth, and then he must read something shocking because he simultaneously spits out his water all over his notes and starts coughing furiously, doubling over like he’s dying, his phone clattering to the table.

Greenberg momentarily stops his monotone speech, hovering like he’s not sure what to do, while pretty much everyone around the table freezes up except for the vice president, Boyd, who’s sitting next to him and never seems even remotely fazed by anything. He pounds Derek heartily on the back a couple times.

It seems to help. After a long half minute, the coughing fit passes. Derek looks up, red-faced, and rasps, “I’m okay.”

Hesitantly, Greenberg starts talking again. Derek straightens his tie and puts his phone away, and Stiles’ fellow employees go back to slumping in their seats with blank, I’m-bored-out-of-my-mind expressions on their faces, and that’s that.

Stiles can’t help wondering what it was Derek saw that got such a reaction out of him. Whatever it was, it’s guaranteed to be more interesting than this meeting.

Ah, well. Stiles will probably never know.

Or so he thinks until about half an hour later, when his phone buzzes with a new email from Derek—the only email he’s ever gotten from Derek, not counting the company-wide newsletters and memos.

It’s a good thing Stiles finishes pouring his coffee before taking a look at it, because otherwise he probably would have scalded the skin of his hand off and spilled coffee all over his shoes and the break room floor in the process.

The subject line reads, “re: guess how my morning is going.”

Stiles freezes.

Blinks.

Closes out of his email app and opens it again.

The email is still there. It’s still titled "re: guess how my morning is going.” Stiles didn’t misread it.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t breathe for a solid five minutes while he lets the mingled surges of horror and adrenaline wash over him. It’s like one of those nightmares he used to have in high school where he’d stand up in class to give a presentation, only to look down and realize he was inexplicably buck-ass naked and everyone was laughing at him.

Finally he sucks in enough air to gasp, "Oh god. I’m dead. I’m so dead.” There’s no one else in the break room, but he still says it. It seems like the kind of momentous occasion that needs stating out loud to the universe.

Then he chugs his entire mug of coffee and speed-walks as casually as possible down the hall. A few people glance at him curiously from their cubicles, probably because he’s blushing so hard he looks like a tomato on the verge of a nervous breakdown, or possibly because no one runs in this office, anywhere, for any reason. Dignity is the name of the game. Stiles has none.

Stiles ignores them all in favor of diving into Lydia’s office and slamming the door shut behind him. He doesn’t care what work she might be doing; this is more important. This is a crisis.

She must get some sense of that from the look on his face, or maybe from the way he’s slumped back against the door and panting, because she doesn’t snap at him or even look that annoyed.

Stiles waves his phone at her and tries, in a rambling and adrenaline-fueled outburst, to explain. He’s not sure how much of it is actually anything bordering on English, but he thinks he ultimately conveys the important bits.

While he talks, Lydia rests her elbows on her desk, steepling her fingers, and looks intrigued. “So,” she says when he finally runs out of breath, “what did Derek actually say?”

“I don’t know!” Stiles says, only a little hysterically.

“You didn’t read the email?“

Stiles shakes his head, sheepish. She’s undoubtedly judging him so hard right now, and he knows, okay. He knows.

Lydia lets out one of her trademark "why am I surrounded by incompetence” sighs and holds out her hand for his phone. Stiles meekly hands it over.

Lydia unlocks it without asking him for the passcode, which suggests either that Stiles needs to make his passwords stronger or that they spend entirely too much time together. Then she reads, and Stiles chews on his thumbnail and practices the breathing exercises his therapist taught him.

Lydia hands his phone back after only half a minute, her expression softening to something almost sympathetic. That’s when Stiles truly comprehends how truly, apocalyptically bad this is. Lydia never looks sympathetic.

“Well?” Stiles croaks.

“It just says he’d like you to come see him in his office as soon as you get a chance.”

Stiles has never heard anything so ominous.

“You shouldn’t keep him waiting,” she says gently. “Go get it over with, and while you’re doing that, I’ll write you a glowing recommendation letter.”

A recommendation letter. To take with him when he gets fired. Oh god.

When Stiles edges into Derek’s office, Derek is standing over by the window. He looks stunning as usual, tailored suit perfectly accenting the powerful lines of his body, but his ears are kind of pink. He’s got out a bottle of wine and two glasses on a little trolley table; he must have an important meeting with a big client later today. Stiles will probably never find out about it, though, seeing as he’s about to get fired and all.

“Stiles,” Derek nods.

Stiles would reply, but he’s afraid nothing will come out but an unmanly squeak, so instead he just focuses on perching on the edge of the nearest chair. He’s never actually been in Derek’s office before. It’s very Derek; it reminds him of the woods, lots of earth tones and accents of green. If not for the circumstances, Stiles would probably find it calming. As it is, he’s not sure he would find anything calming right now, except maybe a Xanax.

“Do you know why I called you in here?“ Derek asks.

Oh god, does he have to say it out loud? It’s not like they don’t both know already. Stiles opens his mouth, and no words come out. His mind is one long internal scream. All he can do is clutch the arms of his chair and watch as Derek uncorks the wine and starts pouring it into the first glass with intimidating casualness. He looks like he’s not mad at all. It’s terrifying.

Finally Stiles manages to force the words out. “Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.”

Derek stops pouring wine into the second glass. “Accidentally?”

“Yes!” Stiles says, latching onto that word like a lifeline. Is it even legal to fire someone for an accident? Well. Probably yes, if it results in somebody’s arm getting lopped off or something, but a dick pic isn’t quite on that level. Stiles hopes so, anyway. “And it wasn’t even my dick!”

Derek puts down the bottle of wine completely. “So… your boyfriend’s…?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t have one.”

“So you’re saying you sent me porn.”

Stiles groans and drops his head to his hands. He can’t look at Derek right now; he’s already reached maximum mortification levels. “No, I, um, so the thing is, I have Lydia Martin down in my email contacts as ‘Divine Goddess,’ which alphabetically puts her next to you, so I accidentally emailed the dick pic to you when I meant to email it to her, and before you say anything, I know I’m not supposed to send explicit materials over the company email and I swear it won’t happen again.” Assuming Stiles ever gets another chance to use his company email, that is, but he’s not going to be the one to point that out.

There’s a long silence, and Stiles risks a peek up through his fingers. Derek is frowning at him, but not like he’s angry. More like he’s confused. “Isn’t Lydia married? To a woman?”

That makes Stiles forget for a moment about being embarrassed. He sits up straight, flailing his hands in a chopping motion. “Whoa, no, it’s definitely not like that. It’s not a flirting thing. We’re just friends, and you’re right, she and Allison are very happily married and I’d never do anything to get between that. Ever. It’s just, she set me up for an online dating profile recently and I kind of hate it because I keep getting dick pics, so that pic you saw was like, like a status update. Like, 'Look how terribly this is going, I hate all of these dudes sending me dick pics because none of them are you'—”

Shit. He bites his tongue so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t taste blood, because nope, what the fuck, that was not supposed to be a part of this conversation, and now Derek’s grip on the neck of the wine bottle has gone white-knuckled and he’s just staring at Stiles, all deer-in-the-headlights.

Not for the first time in his life, or even the hundredth, Stiles wishes he had the power to rewind the last ten or so seconds of what just happened and start over. Unfortunately, no such luck.

“Just to clarify, I didn’t mean to imply that I want you to send me a pic of your dick,” Stiles blurts. “I just meant in a, um, a purely romantic sense, no one on that app is as good as… yeah.” Stiles trails off because Derek’s eyes are continuing to widen, and that’s probably not good. “Oh god, I’m making this worse. I shouldn’t be allowed to talk.”

Derek still doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s an interrogation tactic or maybe (probably) he’s just in shock.

Either way, Stiles feels compelled to break the silence. “Are you going to fire me?” he asks tentatively, after what feels like the longest and most awkward minute of his life to date.

Derek finally blinks and relaxes his death-grip on the wine bottle. “I’d be crazy to fire you. You’re one of my best employees.”

“Except for the whole dick pic thing,” Stiles points out, risking a smile, and Derek smiles back. Stiles feels a little of the oh-god-I’m-about-to-get-fired tension leave him, and in its place the usual oh-god-I’m-in-the-presence-of-Derek-Hale tension starts creeping back in. That’s a lot more familiar, and a lot more exciting.

“Oh, I don’t know, I didn’t…” Derek starts, looking away out the window and then nervously meeting Stiles’ eyes. “I didn’t mind the dick pic thing so much. Not when it was from you.”

It’s Stiles’ turn to stare in shock.

Derek spins jerkily on his heel and picks up one of the wine glasses and starts chugging it down, and okay. Maybe Stiles isn’t the only one who’s pretty nervous right now. That thought makes Stiles a whole lot less nervous, and he stands up and moves around the desk while it lasts. Derek turns his head a little. Stiles reaches up and takes the glass away and sets it down on the table.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— It’s not professional—” Derek starts.

“I would send you a picture of my dick if you asked,” Stiles blurts, and it feels like one of the bravest and most romantic things he’s ever said.

“I would send you one, too,” Derek says, blushing furiously.

That basically shreds the last bit of Stiles’ self-control. He grabs Derek’s fancy silk tie and tugs, and, before he can second-guess it, kisses Derek Hale the way he deserves to be kissed, thoroughly and so enthusiastically that Derek ends up sinking back to lean against his desk like his knees just won’t hold him up anymore.

“So, just to clarify,” Stiles pants, resting a hand on Derek’s chest and thrilling that he can do that now, “I’m definitely not fired.”

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls him back in.

(end)

#my fic #sterek fanfiction #i'm gonna tag this #marauders-mess #since i kinda feel like they prompted me for this one with their message from a few days ago

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saviormysticmeme · 7 years

Note

Okayyyy I read your rfa reaction to witch MC and omg YES IT WAS FUCKING EVERYTHING PERFECT 10/10 would you be able to do one focusing on crystal healing specifically please? (Btw the sevens part in the bath oh my gods yes just yes)

For starters: I am so so sorry because I’m pretty sure you sent this after my first HC which was the Witchy MC on which must have been like 2 months ago and and and basically I’m so sorry for the wait

When I first read this prompt I was like “Oh man gotta research my crystal stuff” Cause I just know all the go-tos like the Quartz family, and Hematite and such and I wanted to look into and find more unique ones but I haven’t and ahhhhhh

Anyways, I was out with a few witches tonight and we made cute little gem charms for love and I was like “It’s a sign. Time to write the fic, Jackass” So here we are

Anon, if you see this please let me know because I’m gonna feel really bad if you never got to see it (TᨓT)

RFA + Crystals

Yoosung

You made him a charm, he could decide to put it on his phone or bag, or anything really

Actually you could have even made him a hair clip oops

Anyways, you had put a bunch of Tiger’s Eye stones on a wire and bent it into the shape of a star before adding a little strap to it

His eyes lit up when you gave it to him

“Whaaaa? For me?” He clenched it tight in his hand and pulled you into a hug. “Mc you’re too nice to me!?!?”

You chuckled as he pulled away, his eyes looked wet like he was about to cry

“It’s Tiger’s Eye!” You began to explain as he tied the strap to his phone case “It’s for motivation and success! So I figured it’d help you with school and with LOLOL.”

His eyes shot back to you again, even wetter.

“Y-Yoosung you don’t have to cr-”

It was too late

He pulled you into another tight hug “I’M DATING THE MOST THOUGHTFUL PERSON EVER” He wailed as he squeezed the living daylights out of you.

“Yoo…sung…pls” You swear you saw your soul leave your body

The blonde boy just smiled as he pulled back, only to dart in for a quick but deep kiss on your lips.

Jaehee

“Jaehee! Hold your hand out I have a surprise for you!”

She just stared at you for a minute before closing your eyes and putting her hand out, open and waiting to receive.

You ignore the open hand though and slide a Bracelet made of Rose Quartz beads on to her wrist

Her eyes open and she looks at the light pink minerals

“Mc? This is so pretty…It must have cost a fortune I can’t accept this!”

“Jaehee not at all, I made it myself!” A proud smile grows on your face as she stares at the bracelet in awe

“Well then…what did I do to deserve such a wonderful gift??”

Your eyes and smile soften as they meet your girlfriend’s. “Well, Rose Quartz is supposed to be really soothing, you know, reduce your anxiety and stuff. I know you worry a lot..about our future in with the cafe and about plenty of stuff I’m sure you try to not tell me about..”

She looks towards the ground, a bit guilty

“Don’t worry!” You reassure her. “I know you just don’t want to make me worried to. But in those times when you don’t want to ‘worry me’ I want to make sure you can relax a little more and worry less…So when you wear that bracelet I’ll feel better knowing I’m helping in at least some way”

Jaehee just stared at you for a moment, mouth slightly agape. After a moment of silence:

“Mc….I know this bracelet will help, because from now on whenever I look at it I’ll remember that we’ll always have each other. That no matter what worries are troubling me…I’ll have you by my side. And if we have each other…well then there’s nothing that can worry me that badly.”

You were ready to cry

Gdi Jaehee this was supposed to be a gift for you not a motivational speech for MC pls

You two just stared into each others’ eyes for a moment before leaning in for a soft, reassuring kiss.

Zen

You made him a necklace. It was simple, just a black cord with one stone hanging off of it.

“What is this?” He mused as he rolled the wire wrapped stone in his fingers.

“Blue Lace Agate.” You said with a smile

Honestly Zen was pretty well rounded and healthy aside from his smoking habit

You had a hard time thinking of a stone he could use

But you remember Blue Lace Agate

It’s said to aid in easing stress on the shoulders, neck, and most importantly, throat.

Zen spent hours in rehearsal singing and monologuing, and sure he always drank his hot honey water and did warm ups, but some extra metaphysical cushioning couldn’t hurt ^^

A sweet smile plays on his lips as he turns the stone over and over before turning to you

“Mc…would you do me the honor?” He held the necklace out for you and bent his head downwards

You smiled as you clasped it behind his neck

When he tilted his head up your faces were inches away from each other

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips while your hands were still on his neck

Jumin

You marveled at the chain once you finished

It was an average silver chain at first, but you managed to tightly wedge and place small Hematite stones in between the coils

The black and silver combo was perfect for Jumin, as well of the anti-stress properties of Hematite.

It’s supposed to absorb negative energies and turn them into positive ones, and even promote healthy blood flow to prevent headaches

You waited on the couch, chain held in your tight little fists, eager for Jumin to walk through the door

As soon as the lock of the door undid itself you jumped up

“Honey!” You exclaimed as you took his hand, giving him a bit of a shock

“Kitten? You’re exci-”

“I made something for you!” You didn’t even wait before putting the chain in his palm “I thought it’d be a nice new chain for your pocket watch, I remembered you saying you weren’t a fan of the gold one..”

“Kitten…it’s beautiful” He said staring at it. “Where did you buy this?”

“Well I got the chain from the jewelry store down the street, but I put the Hematite in myself.”

“Hematite?”

You read off your mental notebook of Hematite’s purposes and explained that you thought the black and silver was also a nice color combo

“You’re so thoughtful” His half lidded eyes fell on the chain as he ran his finger across it. Eventually he pulled out his pocket watch and swapped the chains.

He continued to muse with it for a second before looking to you, a grin on his face.

He put the watch away and cupped the sides of your face in his hands

“Thank you, Kitten” And you two shared a passionate kiss

707

If you could you’d dress Seven in all the gems

He needs all the healies for his feelies

But you figured you’d try to pick one stone

And you know one stone that is basically the grandaddy of dealing with grief, pain, and overall internal healing

Amethyst

You went to the local Health and Wellness store and browsed, looking for just the right piece of Amethyst.

You ended up seeing an already made ring

It was a gold ring with a messily cut piece of amethyst. Rough around the edges, varying shades of purple, a little cloudy but when you held it up to the light you could see it was a little translucent in some parts.

It was perfect.

You had the clerk wrap it and you practically skipped all the way home.

“Saaaeyooounng~~” You called

He poked his head from around the corner “You rang?”

You all but ran over to him, excitement pulling the corners of your lips up. “Close your eyes and put your hand out”

“Oooooo a gift?” He sang as he closed his eyes. “Gee I hope it’s not a kiss or anything~”

“Why would I have you put your hand out for a kiss??”

“I don’t know, so you can hold my hand while you do it?” His smirk turned into a joking pout. You rolled your eyes and ended up giving him a peck on the lips while you placed the little wrapped box in his hand

“oooOoOoOOOo” He started unwrapping it, his fingers working fast, but delicate enough to manage to not rip the paper anywhere aside from the tape.

Once he undid the box he marveled at the gift

“MC….are you proposing to me?” He giggled as he held the ring up to the light

“Not quite yet” You rolled your eyes for the second time in the last minute, but returned to his gaze with a smile.

He put the jokes aside

“Mc…it’s really beautiful..But why?”

“Amethyst is supposed to help with, like, everything. It cleanses your aura, allegedly improves memory and clear thinking, helps sleeping, and balances your energy to be more calm or energized depending on what you need….But most of all it helps with inner healing”

You see a small glint behind Saeyoung’s eyes, a spark, a memory of something painful.

His smile shrinks a bit, but you decide to press on.

“It’s supposed to relieve feelings of guilt, of sadness…of pain.” You took a small step towards Saeyoung and slowly wrapped your arms around him. “I just want you to be happy, Saeyoung.”

The world was quiet for a moment and Seven didn’t move.

You were worried you might have overstepped his comfort zone by bringing up the past

But

Slowly he wrapped his arms around you as well and pulled you in tight, his lips by your ear

“Thank you, Mc”

You stood like that for a moment, just holding each other.

Eventually one of you pulled back a bit, but only for you both to meet somewhere in the middle where your lips pressed together in a loving kiss.

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