#like...... hm.. maybe getting my license after all these years.. or getting a job | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apixrl · 3 years

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DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

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felix21im · 3 years

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"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction

As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.

Masterlist

Chapter 6: The Bar

“You have to be kidding me right now!” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. “It was the first time I haven’t shown up to work, I always did my job exactly how you wanted me to and this is your thanks? I told you what happened and you don't even care at all! I was literally unconscious and in shock after what occurred that day.” You exclaimed and shook your head, not believing what you were hearing.

“I'm truly sorry, but you know how we handle things here. I'm sure a young and outgoing person like you will find a new job without any problems. We will send you the money for the last days you were working. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got a restaurant to take care of.” Your boss, well ex-boss, went through the door and left you standing in his office in disbelief. You picked up all your personal items before then heading to the front door. You looked around once more, thinking about all the years you were working here. You said one last goodbye to your coworkers before heading out the door, leaving this part of your life behind.

You went to your own car - finally having a driver's license after Leon made sure you got your private lessons - ready to drive home. But as you were sitting down you realized that that wasn't what you really wanted. The best thing to do now was to see Leon, so that's exactly where you were going.

You pulled into Leon’s driveway and parked in front of the front door. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today.” Angel greeted you as you stepped out of the car.

“Neither did I.” You answered and walked to the door, letting yourself in. You found Leon in the kitchen and he was leaning over a bottle of whiskey. “Leon?” You raised an eyebrow, thinking it was kind of early to drink but didn't say anything to him.

You must have scared him as he shot up to look at you. He looked rough, his hair was a mess and his grey clothes were stained. “Buttercup!” He smiled as he walked over to you. “I didn’t know you were coming over today, I thought you were at work.” He planted a kiss on your forehead and rubbed your arms.

“I got fired.” You simply blurted out, rather than trying to avoid it. “Since I didn’t go to work that one day last week my boss seriously wasn’t happy.” You lightly waved Leon off of you and sat down at the kitchen counter. “I’ve never missed a day for like three years but one day! One day! Is enough to get me fired.” You placed your head in your hands and groaned.

“Well fuck that guy.” He pulled a cereal box out of a cupboard under the kitchen island and placed it into a bowl.

“Fuck that guy…” You replied. “Now I need to waste the next week of my life trying to find a new job.

Leon finally put some milk into the bowl too. “You’re a college student, you don’t need a full time job.” He placed the bowl in front of you as you looked up at him. “Eat up, Buttercup.”

You looked down at the cereal and you pushed it around with your spoon. “I’m not really hungry, Leon.” You pushed the bowl back towards him and you brushed your hair with your hand. “It’s not that I need a job, I just like having one, it keeps me busy and the extra money never hurts.”

“But wasn’t the pay terrible?” He raised his eyebrow as he began to eat your food. “And super sexual? Your co-worker Mimi told me about how you would unbutton your shirt and wear super tight pants so that the customers would tip you more…”

“True.” You admitted. “So I’ll look for something different. Maybe I can be a personal assistant like Angel and Daisy.”

“They’re more than just assistants y’know.” Leon continued to eat. “Those two have joined me on a job, saved my life once or twice.”

“It’s four in the afternoon, why are you eating cereal?” You eventually asked.

“We don’t have any food, Angel wasn’t able to go shopping this morning.” He said as he placed his empty bowl in the sink. “How about an office job?”

“That’s a bit boring, dontcha think?”

“Umm. How about that internship you were going for?”

“I still have three months left of college, once I'm done with that and I have the grades for it, I can apply.” You admitted as you got off the bar stool, not having eaten any of the food Leon gave you. Leon watched you while you were filling your glass with water and some ice to cool down. You drank it and watched Leon do the same, just with his glass of whiskey. “Isn't it a little too early to drink?” The words left your mouth before you were even thinking about it. Now it was Leon's turn to raise an eyebrow at your comment.

“Are you my mom or what now? I think I know when or when I cannot have a drink.” He snapped at you, which really surprised you.

"Obviously I am not. But that's not really responsible of you, is it? I just don't get it, why you're drinking at this time and so often in general the past weeks." You thought about what you were saying, realizing his drinking behavior dates back to the first time you even met. "I get that your job isn't easy and stuff but day drinking? Really? Seems kind of low to me, Leon."

Leon let out a laugh and shook his head. "If all you want to do now is complain you can leave. That's not what I wanted you here for."

You looked at him again with big eyes. "So you don't wanna talk? I don't know what it is that’s between us, but it can't always be good and fun. I'm literally just worried about your health!"

"Worried? I think I know what's good for me much better than you do, I'm not the child here." He spat at you as he drank from his glass.

"So if you’re not ‘the child’ does that mean that I am?” You looked at him speechless. “That's how you see me? I understand that I'm a lot younger than you but I'm not a child! And just because I'm trying to talk about something serious? What is going on with you Leon?" He didn't even look at you. Instead he poured himself another drink and took a sip. You shook your head and let out a scoff. You then grabbed your jacket and went to the door. Before leaving you looked back to Leon, hoping he would apologize or stop you from leaving, instead you got nothing. You slammed the door behind you shut and you heard something break. “A fucking mansion and his front door cant even handle a slam..” You muttered to yourself as you went over to your car. Angrily you left his driveway and drove in the direction of home.

Your roommate was home for the holidays, leaving you in your apartment alone. Rather than sitting on the couch feeling sorry for yourself you tried to get some work done.

Looking for jobs was much harder than you remember. “Host. Nope. Grocery store worker. Eh, I guess that could work. Stripper?! Hm, if I'm desperate enough, maybe…” You spent hours looking and applying to jobs, most of them being just over minimum wage but any money is better than none.

Eventually you gave up and just began to watch TV on your laptop, endlessly flicking through the channels available to you. Since none of it looked interesting you put on something random and picked up your sketchbook. As the noise played in the background and your pencil ran across the paper your eyelids became heavier and heavier, those combined with the fact that it was now eleven at night.

The sound of your phone vibrating on your wooden desk ripped you from your sleep. At first you ignored it, being far too tired to want to actually open your eyes. It started to vibrate again. You rubbed your eyes, trying to see clearly in the dark and waking yourself up. You looked at your phone confused, wondering who wanted you so late at night. You unlocked it and looked at the time first. “Almost two in the morning... damn”, you muttered to yourself. After that you checked your notification and let out a sigh. Multiple messages from Leon just in the past few hours you were asleep. You didn't even bother looking at them, knowing that he was drunk. Most of the messages didn't even make sense and there was no way to read or understand them. Before locking the phone again, an unknown number called you. Unsure about who it could be, you waited for the call to end. But soon after the same number called again. You let out a sigh, answering the call. "Hello? Can I help you?" You asked tiredly. You didn't recognize the voice talking to you, but you could hear Leon mumbling in the background. The person told you something about Leon being totally wasted and that he requested for you to come and pick him up. Unsure about what to do, especially after the argument you had earlier, you still agreed to picking him up. You ended the call and put your phone away. Putting your head in your hands, you let out another sigh and shook your head. You quickly went to your kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, needing caffeine otherwise you would fall asleep before you even got to Leon.

As you grabbed your jacket, phone and coffee you looked at your car keys and shoved them into your pocket. You knew you couldn’t take your car as you didn’t want to leave it at the bar considering it was twenty miles from home. “Why couldn’t he have gone to a local bar?”

You waited outside in the rain for a taxi to come and pick you up. You’d be sure to charge this cost on Leon’s credit card.

Faint music was in the background as you walked through the door to ‘Billy’s Bar’ and it only took you a second to find Leon. “Buttercup!” He waved and blew a kiss at you the second he spotted you.

“Hey Leon.” You somewhat smiled as you sat down next to him at the bar. “What mess have you gotten yourself into?” You muttered as you waved over the bartender, them giving you the bill. “How can you rack up eighty dollars in one night?”

You searched Leon’s pockets for his wallet but came up empty. “Woah there Buttercup, let’s go home first before you start to pull my pants off.” You simply rolled your eyes at his drunk comment.

You groaned as you gave up the search for his wallet and eventually you just placed your own stack of cash on the bar, giving a little extra for the bartender as a tip. “Come on.” You got off the stool. “Let’s get you home.” Leon got off his stool and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Jesus Leon, don’t do that…” You wiped the kiss off of you and shook your head as the two of you left the bar and into the pouring rain. “Keys?” You held out your hand and he placed his keys in your palm. The keys to one of his fancy cars that you don't even know the name of but you were pretty sure that it was an Audi of some sort. It had four doors and four wheels, good enough.

“I can drive Butterc- cup.” He hiccuped as he talked, proving just how much he shouldn’t drive.

“I’ll be fine…” You clicked the keys and the lights on the car flashed. You took Leon to the passenger side of the car and forced him off of you as you opened the door for him. He leant on the roof to help himself into his seat and you then closed the door behind him. “Alright, it’s just like my car… just a lot quicker and a lot more expensive…” You mumbled to yourself as you hopped in the driver’s seat and started the engine. The loud roar was enough to make you almost pee yourself due to your nerves.

You gripped your hands on the steering wheel and put the car into drive. The car immediately shot forward and you instantly slammed on the breaks, causing Leon to bash his face on the dashboard. “Oh fuck!” You put the car into park and looked at Leon’s nose. “I’m so sorry.” You carefully brushed your hand on his nose and luckily it didn’t feel as if it was broken.

“I’m fine…” Leon’s eyes rolled back in his head and he leant back in his seat. You simply huffed at him and leant over him, grabbing his seatbelt. As you went back to your seat you sighed at him as you looked at him sleeping.

You buckled your own seatbelt and started the car again, now more carefully. You checked all the buttons and hoped for the best as you left the parking spot slowly. Before you stepped on the gas once more to drive onto the street you looked over to Leon, who was now half asleep. Just sometimes he looked up again or out the window without saying anything. Which was probably better because he wouldn't say anything useful anyway in his state. You drove on the main street and gripped the wheel, concentrating on the dark and rainy road before you. You tried putting on some music but soon shut it off again because it just irritated you. So you just drove around silently trying to find a way to Leon's house. Every now and then Leon muttered something, more to himself than to you. You shook your head blaming yourself for his behavior. Letting out a sigh you concentrated on the road again and silently went on.

You drove for around five minutes before Leon began to get bored. “Buttercup?”

“Hey Leon…” You replied to him, keeping your eyes on the road because you didn’t want to swerve into a ditch.

“You’re the best.” You could see him smile at you in the corner of your eye. He held out his hand and you simply ignored it. “Please?” He wiggled his fingers, wanting you to hold his hand. You scoffed as you dropped your right hand from the wheel, placing your hand in his. “I love you, Buttercup.” He smiled at you again but you simply ignored it.

“You’re drunk, Leon.” You took your hand back from him, in annoyance.

You wanted him to say that he loved you, but not like this, not in a drunk slur. “I’m serious.”

"Yea, sure you are." You rolled your eyes and looked straight to the street, not giving him anymore attention.

"You're so mean, Buttercup." He began whining like a little child which made you laugh sarcastically.

"You’re behaving like a child now, Leon. I told you earlier today that it doesn't have anything to do with ages." You shook your head, thinking about the argument from earlier.

"I'm sorryyy..for snapping at you like that earlier.. do you forgive me? Pleaseeee Buttercup.." You raised your eyebrow at his apology, not thinking much of it.

"I can't forgive you when all you do is lie when you’re drunk. Say sorry again when you're sober and we'll see." You felt him moving in his seat, now directly facing you. You gave him a short look and tried pushing him back into his seat. "Leon, please sit down correctly. I can't concentrate like this."

He had a smug smile on his face now. "Am I all you can concentrate on now?" Leon came closer to you and you backed up, now shoving him away with your right hand. The road in front of you was still slippery and dark and you couldn't drive like this. In a short motion you stepped on the brakes and stopped at the side of the street. Now facing Leon as well you tried pushing him back into his own seat, hoping he would leave you alone now. He still resisted and even though he was totally drunk he still was stronger than you. He grabbed your wrists and came closer to you, almost sitting on your lap now. You were able to keep some distance with your legs but it wasn't an easy task. "Buttercuuup.." He began again as he started playing with your fingers. "I'm serious.. I loveee you, since the first time I met you." You looked at him, searching his face. People always say that drunk people speak the truth but a part in you didn't want to believe it. Not because you didn't have feelings for Leon, but this whole situation seemed wrong to you. You realized it wouldn't get you far when arguing in this state so you just let him talk, not giving it much thought. Leon continued talking but he soon noticed you didn't even listen anymore. As soon as he came closer to you again you snapped back to reality.

You unfastened your seatbelt and got out of the car. You walked through the rain to Leon's side of the car and also opened his door. He looked at you confused but didn't say anything. You loosened his seatbelt and almost threw him out of his seat and out the car. He just about caught his balance, looking at you perplexed. You tried finding the right words but didn't even know what you were doing here. Leon leaned on the side of the car, already totally soaking wet. "Leon, I don't know what's going on with you but I can't continue driving when you keep on annoying me like that! So please just shut up or we're gonna stay out here until you're sober again, I don't care!" You shouted towards him, hoping he would even hear you through the loud and heavy rain. You came closer to him again, waiting for an answer. It seemed like hours passed, but Leon didn't say a thing. You groaned and opened the back door. You grabbed Leon's arm and pushed him inside. Overwhelmed by the sudden force, he fell into the backseat taking you with him. So now you lay on top of Leon, both of you totally wet. You felt Leon's warm breath and also the smell of alcohol. You suddenly felt hot and everything around you seemed to stop, all you saw was Leon. He looked you deep in the eyes and you into his. Without even thinking about it, you felt Leon's big hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to his face. And the next thing you felt were his lips on yours. For a split second you leaned into the kiss, before realizing what was happening. In an instant you shot up and pushed yourself away from Leon. He looked at you, confused and heartbroken. "Leon. Let's just get you home now." You helped him put on a seatbelt without speaking another word and then went back to the driver's seat. The rest of the drive home neither of you spoke a word but every now and then you felt Leon staring at you from the back.

Finally you arrived at his home. Even though it was raining you could still make out the driveway and main door. You didn't bother parking the car in his garage, so you stopped in front of the door. You took the keys and before leaving the car you looked back at Leon. He wasn't asleep. He looked out the window, like most of the time during the ride. It reminded you of a child that wanted to stop at the local McDonald's but his parents didn't want to. You shook your head and tried hiding your smile. After that you left the car and also helped Leon out. Both of you didn't say a word as you walked to the door. Leon's arm was around your back for balance but you didn't mind it. It was better than letting him walk alone and him ending up injuring himself. You opened the front door, which was unlocked to your surprise. Apparently no one in this house thinks it could be possible that a thief would come here to say hello. You took off your own jacket which was totally drenched and hung it up. You then did the same for Leon, without any words exchanging either.

"I should probably get you something dry to wear. You're gonna get sick otherwise." You said more to yourself than to Leon but he still heard you and agreed.

"Let's.. just go upstairs and change there. It doesn't matter if the house gets dirty." Leon already started walking towards the stairs but you soon followed after noticing how he couldn't even walk straight. You then helped him upstairs and you went into the bathroom.

"I'll get you something to sleep in, just.. sit here and don't move. Can you do that for me?" He nodded silently and you left the room. You went into his bedroom and got some pajamas for him and also something for you to wear. As you entered the bathroom you found Leon sitting in the bathtub, naked. Even though you've seen him half naked before this wasn't what you wanted to see. Covering your eyes you threw his pajamas over. Obviously he didn't catch them so now they were lying next to him. "Jesus, Leon. What are you doing? I asked one thing of you and-"

"Sorry, Buttercup.. I just didn't want to freeze." He put his legs closer to him and rested his head on top of them. You shook your head and even though you didn't want to, you had to agree with him. You were also cold and wearing wet clothes didn't help. You sighed and looked at him. "Are you gonna shower by yourself or do you need help?" You felt like his caretaker right now but you also couldn't leave him hanging now. He looked at you with big eyes, which basically begged for you to help him. You sighed once again before walking over to him. You started the shower making sure it was warm enough. It was just a quick way of warming him up, not wanting to spend any more time with a naked and drunk Leon. After you were done you helped him out of the bathtub and put him into a towel. After drying him a little bit you helped him get into his pajamas and walked him into his bedroom. You watched him get into bed and before taking a shower yourself you saw him drifting off into a deep sleep. Closing the door behind you silently you went back into the bathroom and took a shower and changed into some of Leon's clothing. Nothing too special but at least it would keep you warm. After you put all the wet clothes away you went downstairs to try to get some sleep as well. You entered the living room and lay down on the big couch. Just a few minutes later you felt sleep take over and take you into a world of dreams.

You woke up the next morning to Angel's voice. "Hey there. Sorry to wake you up, I just wanted to see you before heading out again." You sat up and stretched, looking at Angel. "Thank you for bringing Leon home. I wasn't home yesterday and.. I'm sorry you had to see him like that." You shook your head, putting a hand on Angel's shoulder.

"Don't apologize for that. It's no big deal.. I think. Does this happen often? He was so.. weird yesterday." You looked down, feeling guilty for snapping at Leon like that yesterday, maybe being the reason for him ending up drunk.

"It's, well, it happened before. He always likes to drink but I'm not sure what's going on to be honest. But don't worry, okay? It has nothing to do with you or anything. Chances are high he's just fed up with work, I don't blame him." You nodded, smiling at Angel now. She then stood up and gave you a small smile before turning to leave. Before leaving though she turned back to you. "I prepared some coffee for you and Leon. Maybe try waking him up. And.. try not to be too mad at him, would you?" She waved to you one more time before leaving the room and soon the house.

You got your two mugs of coffee and you went up the stairs to wake up Leon. As you put your hand on the doorknob you could already hear his snoring so you made sure to be quiet. He laid face up on the bed and his hair was extremely messy, so rather than waking him up like you originally planned you just sat on the chair by the window and drank your coffee. The rain from last night was still just as terrible, if not worse to the point where you couldn't even look out the window, you needed some other source of entertainment. You picked up one of the books that Angel had placed in there as decor and began to read it. It was only a small book, something about a knight in shining armor there to save the princess, just like all the other fairy tales. As you were reaching the end of the book you could hear Leon beginning to stir, his breathing had become a lot lighter and his snoring had stopped, meaning he was pretty much awake now. You took another sip from your coffee and you could see Leon sitting up in bed. He had his hand on his head and you could tell that it was pounding. “Good morning, Sleepyhead.” You gave him a faint smile as you tapped the table, another mug of coffee waiting for Leon.

He groaned as he waved his arm at you, wanting you to bring the coffee to him. At first you just shook your head at him and clicked your tongue but he wouldn't give up, you were too tired to argue about it so you just sat on the side of the bed, your back facing him. “You’re mad."

“You think?” You snapped at him, still looking forward, at the blank wall in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Buttercup.” He sat up properly and shuffled towards you, being careful not to spill his cold coffee. “I was being stupid. I had a bad morning and I just wanted to chill out for the rest of the day, have a nice drink and just relax by the pool or something.”

“Oh so me arriving for a surprise visit, that's what derailed your day?” You turned to face him and you could tell that the two cogs in his brain were working overtime.

“What? No!” He shook his head as he tried to get a grasp on the situation. “I overreacted to you asking about my drinking problem-”

“Oh so now you admit that it's a problem?” You interrupted him, by now your body was fully turnt to him, just by your body language he knew that you were more than just pissed at him.

“It’s always been a problem.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I can try and explain it.” You simply huffed at him, wanting to hear his excuse but still wanting him to know that you're angry. “After Raccoon City I began to get pretty bad nightmares. Like really, really bad nightmares. You can guess why.” You simply nodded at it, feeling guilty now that you got him to explain. “I couldn’t sleep for weeks at a time, so I tried my best to just keep myself busy. Hobbies, people, anything. I would sometimes go out to bars and whatnot and I figured out that after a few drinks I would usually sleep better that night.” He adjusted himself in bed so that he was fully sitting upright, his full attention on you as he talked. “I’ve been doing it for years, Buttercup. It’s just a hobby I guess.”

You didn’t really know what to say. Sure you lived with college kids so you were around drinking fanatics 24/7 but an actual alcoholic? You didn’t have much experience.

“Buttercup, I’ve tried everything.” He leant forward and grabbed your hand, rather than you recoiling like the night before you accepted it and you shuffled yourself closer to him, sitting cross legged next to him on the bed. You hesitated before leaning your head on his shoulder and also grabbing his hand.

"I don't know how I can help, Leon. But you can't continue like this. I.. I didn't recognize you yesterday, you were so different. I don't want to worry about you, when you're out for a drink. I just-" You looked up to him with big eyes, some tears forming inside them. You felt so helpless and even bad for not noticing anything earlier. Leon squeezed your hand.

"Shh.. it's okay, Buttercup. After I met you, I tried to stop drinking, you can even ask Angel. But the nightmares never end. The only time I was able to sleep through the night was.. when you were here and slept next to me. Knowing I wasn't alone, feeling you next to me, it helped me." You blushed and gave him a small smile, but deep down you knew this wouldn't help long-term.

"Even if I stay here to sleep in your bed, you will always want to drink. And I can't be here with you all the time. You need.. we need something else to fix this problem." You took a deep breath. "Leon, I think you need professional help. Like, I don't know, medication to help you sleep?" You looked at him unsure of what you could do to help.

"I tried that before, Buttercup. I swear I tried it many times before but I also fell back into this habit. I can't change it anymore." You shook your head.

"No Leon, stop saying stuff like this. You may have tried before but.. now I'm here. I'll help you. I promise I will not leave your side, we will do this together. We can work in small steps, you hear me? Like.. you always drink your whiskey with ice, right? What about you trying to put in less alcohol and more ice? Step by step? It's worth a shot and this way it isn't cold withdrawal. What do you say?" You looked at him with big eyes, kind of proud of your idea. A small smile rested on Leon's face as he looked at you.

"It's worth a shot. But don't get your hopes up too high. This won't be easy and.. if things don't work out, I don't know who I'll be then."

"Leon. I am not leaving you alone now. We will do this together and no matter what happens, I'll be here. I believe in you." You lay your arms around him and hugged him. You felt his arms around your body and smiled. After a short while you let go of him. Both of you took a sip of your stone cold coffee and sat there in silence, the only sound being the rain outside the house.

You saw Leon fidgeting around and looked at him questioningly. Before you could ask what he was thinking about he began speaking. "You know, uhm, what I said yesterday. I meant it. Sure, I was drunk and all but…", he turned to you. "I love you. I have for a long time now but I didn't know how to say it. But I really do." You looked at Leon with big eyes, shocked that he would bring this topic up again. Unsure of what to say you stood up and walked around the room. Leon's gaze followed you and you felt bad for not saying anything. After walking up and down you finally sat back next to him again. "Leon, I.. I don't know what to say. I mean.. I. God. Leon. I love you. I really do." You let out a small laugh. This whole situation felt so bizarre to you. You saw a big smile growing on Leon's face and you had to return it. He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you to him. You looked each other in the eyes, knowing what both of you needed now. Leon closed the gap between you two and after so long you kissed him. Without being drunk. Just a real and honest kiss, both of you wanting it and knowing it was the right thing. “So what was the bad news that you got yesterday morning?” You asked him as you pulled away.

“I have to go to Italy for a job.” He smirked. “But I think I might drag you along with me, we can have some time together once I'm done with work.” You thought about the offer for a split second before agreeing.

"At least I don't have a job where I have to ask for permission anymore." You jokingly said, trying to make the best of the situation.

"Well then we have a plan. Sooo, you better get home and pack your things. We should be at the airport early tomorrow morning. I'll text you the time and pick you up. Sounds good?" You nodded before going for another kiss. You stayed at Leon's house for a while longer before eventually going home and packing your stuff. You were excited to be by his side at a job and couldn't wait for it anymore. God knows what you've gotten yourself into...

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Taglist: @trinswhimsys @dixanadu @oppsie--channie

#resident evil vendetta #re2 #re4 #re6 #leon Kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader

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neverdoingmuch · 3 years

Note

Wait cql lawyer/law school AU

i got you my pal dont worry!!

law school, im gonna be honest and say i know like nothing about law or law school so pls ignore any inconsistencies or inaccuracies

lwj goes to law school and he is definitely the top student in his class. they’ve been there for like a month and everyone already knows he’s gonna be the best

his one and only competition is this dude called wei wuxian but lwj isn’t particularly worried about him

so far they’re still in the stage of the course where they do the fun things to sucker people into doing the class for the semester so there’s been some practise debates and arguments and stuff in their tutorial classes

wei wuxian has that Charisma and like yeah all of his arguments are perfect but also he has an amazing smile and people are like yes i can trust him

(he’s definitely the sort to be like hm, the easy way to argue this case would be to quote some laws and use precedence to justify this but that’s boring)

lwj is also good at that sort of stuff because his arguments are perfect and everything is so perfectly researched that there should be no ground at all for someone to lodge a counterargument

(wei wuxian manages somehow and it makes lwj so mad)

but that’s whatever lwj thinks,, a lot of people join law thinking it’s gonna be like the tv shows and books and then get completely blindsided when it comes to the rote learning part or like the actual laws

and for all of wwx’s confidence, lwj hasn’t actually seen wwx so much as touch the textbook/s and he always studies in the law library so he knows that wwx has probably never even been there bc he hasn’t seen him even once (why’s he looking? bc he needs to see which books wwx uses to study,, bc there has to be something going on there,, obviously)

then they do their first like proper written assignment and lwj and wwx tie for the highest scores and now lwj has a Rival and he refuses to lose to someone who thinks that putting a ‘-us’ sound at the end of a word makes it latin (did wwx say habeas corpus and then point at a soft drink and go sprite-us can-us,,, maybe,,,,)

anyway! lwj and wwx are kinda rivals for the top spot and it’s one of those situations where one test lwj wins by a point but then the next test wwx gets full marks and they just keep exchanging the top spot in class

and this whole time wwx is like The Worst to have in class. he’s always interrupting to ask questions or just straight up not listening and spends the class doodling pictures of rabbits (they’re cute but wwx is terrible and he’s not allowed to make cute drawings)

so after a few months the most horrible thing happens.... they get put together in a project and lwj is like ugh. internally of course but his face is also saying ugh

the first time wwx and lwj get together to work on the project, lwj is prepared with a proper list of tasks to do all nicely split up between the two of them and a schedule for when they should get certain parts done by.

needless to say, lwj does not expect wwx to be ready, but wwx is definitely on top of things

he rocks up and is like yeah let’s do this, this and this and have them done by this time - basically proposing to do everything that lwj has already written down

and lwj is pleasantly surprised and is like hm maybe i misjudged wwx and decides to like re-evaluate his opinion on him

in doing so he realises that when he’d never seen wwx studying, it wasn’t an exaggeration at all. he’s never seen wwx so much as touch a textbook or spend more than a minute on a laptop doing something that wasn’t minesweeper or solitaire

but wwx is also making all of their deadlines and even adds extra information and resources to their document that could be useful elsewhere and sometimes he shows up to their study sessions and he looks absolutely exhausted

eventually lwj manages to get the truth out and wwx is just like yeah it’s easier to get worse grades than a genius but if you both study and you still get lower grades, it’s not easy,, for jc or for me

so wwx usually studies at night when his brother is asleep and lwj is like that’s bad, you can’t keep that up and just when wwx is about to go off at him lwj is like you can come study at my place

and thus begins the wonderful time where everything is alright and lwj falls in love with wwx

they work really well together and wwx is strangely considerate and nice? when he finds out lwj likes rabbits, he goes out and buys bunny post-it notes for lwj and starts to always bring him a doodle of bunnies every time he comes over. he always gets his work done on time, early even, and his work is always so brilliant and every time wwx smiles at him, lwj feels warm inside etc etc

for a long while lwj is like yes (: this is friendship (: bc he’s never had a crush before but then on the day they submit their project wwx is like hey,, the two of us make a great team,, we should always work together,, now and next year and even when we graduate,, i want to help the innocent people who need our help and i think i’d like it a lot if you joined me and lwj has his oh moment

they get a perfect score on the project of course and even after it finishes, wwx keeps coming over to lwj’s place to study or just hang out and lwj is just falling more and more for wwx each day

they’re best friends now and everyone gets used to seeing them work together on projects and then turn around to try and decimate each other when they’re working one on one and lwj thinks that he might just be the happiest he’s ever been

but then one day wwx doesn’t show up to class. it shouldn’t be strange but wwx has never missed class even once and he ends up hearing from lxc who heard from jgy that wwx was caught sabotaging some other student’s work (the other student was jzxun, who had a fondness for playing devil’s advocate and other than wwx once telling him that his argument was shit, wwx never spoke to him or seemed to know who he was but lwj is a bit too angry to remember that)

he manages to find wwx outside of his dorms as he’s moving out and he’s just like why did you do that? and wwx is like oh y’know,, bc he’s not really sure what’s happening himself,, one second he was at the top of his class and the next he was being brought before a board and being told that he was being expelled but he’s not going to tell lwj that bc lwj would definitely try and stand up for him and then they’d both get expelled

but lwj is furious and just spits out well if our dreams meant so little to you then maybe it’s a good thing you failed now,, bc his mother was a lawyer who took all these little jobs that helped people who actually needed the help and lwj was looking forward to doing that with wwx and he doesn’t even seem to care that now they can’t do that

wwx flinches and then smiles at him and just cheerily says, that’s me and leaves. he doesn’t look back and lwj doesn’t chase after him.

lwj doesn’t see him again for years (you can do 13 or 5 or however long you feel like)

lwj is a fully licensed lawyer and he’s working for the family company and he spends half of his time working on cases and uses the rest of his time to do like outreach programs where he goes and visits schools and runs sessions on what it’s like to be a lawyer, how to apply, and to provide assistance to any students who decide to study law at uni

and then at one of these programs he meets this kid, wen yuan, who is ridiculously bright and enthusiastic and has a smile that seems oddly familiar

at the end of the second session he comes up to lwj and is like mr. lan, is your name lan wangji? and lwj just says yes, expecting the kid to be a fan of one of his cases or something but then wen yuan is like oh wow! i thought i recognised you from my dad’s photo!

and lwj isn’t expecting much but he asks what the photo looks like and wen yuan pulls out this photo from his pocket and lwj immediately recognises it,, it’s the only photo he has of him and wwx

your father is wei ying? lwj asks him and wen yuan is like yes, hesitates, and then asks, would you like to see him?

and that’s how lwj finds himself following wen yuan to some dinky little office that has a plaque outside that reads wen and wei

(wen ning is the nicest and sweetest person ever and lots of people underestimate him but then he’s an absolute monster on court. he gets up and completely decimates the opponent and then at the end is like (: it was so nice to meet you!! i am baby!! and all that,, you know our boy)

anyway they walk in and wwx turns to greet wen yuan but then he sees lwj and is like woah! you! and he’s not sure whether to hide or go and hug lwj so he just gives him a fist bump,, like a bro,, and immediately wants to shrivel up and die

anyway they get the reunion stuff out of the way, swelling music, tender wrist holding, lots of staring, lwj silently declaring his wholehearted love for wwx and refusing to believe rumours about him again even though he doesn’t actually know what happened, you know how it goes

from wwx’s side of things,, after he got kicked out he went to some small uni. good in its own right but not known for their law program and ended up specialising in family law

the first case he ever won was for the wens to have the right to keep custody of a-yuan and the first case wen ning ever won was to let wwx adopt a-yuan bc i’m soft like that

so wwx has just been kinda vibing,, being a single dad, living with the wens and helping to make that difference he always promised he would

now this isn’t gonna be some au where lwj goes oh my! i must give up my high salary job and work with wwx! bc lwj has been doing good stuff at his current job and for all of his family’s stuffiness, they run a fair and just company

but! he does end up helping wwx when wwx gets a letter with a bunch of information about the jins and how they’re actually super corrupt and evil (big surprise,,) and how wwx was maybe definitely framed bc he was doing some casual work on the side and stumbled across some bad shit on the jins back in uni

lwj ends up being the one to take the case officially but wwx is definitely the guy leading it and so lwj ends up spending most of his time at the wen-wei office

lwj definitely bonds with wen yuan, who also wants to go into law, and writes him recommendation letters and helps him edit his applications and stuff

(and one day wen yuan is like leaving you was the hardest thing dad ever did and i dont think you appreciated how much he cared about you. he really did think that he annoyed you ‘til the end and lwj is like no! he didn’t! and wen yuan is like yeah i know but you gotta tell him and lwj really does mean to but the time is never right or something like that but also wen yuan is all but calling lwj dad at this point)

anyway they end up going to court, side by side, working as a team just as they promised to do and just as they finish their final day on the case, ended with the jury ruling jgy guilty and wwx’s reputation all but saved, wwx turns around and flings himself at lwj

is he crying? is he laughing? a bit of both tbh but wwx ends up confessing right then and there, still on record and everything (is that how that works??? idk! let’s say it does)

and what can lwj do but make out with him?

did a news crew come in to film the results of this massive court case just to end up with five minutes of wangxian kissing?? maybe! but when it played on tv it meant wwx and lwj didnt have to actually tell anyone they got together

(and does lwj eventually pop the question using wwx’s bad latinification? yes and wwx is too busy laughing to accept at first but he does and they end up being the worst possible tutors for wen yuan as he goes through law school bc they keep being all gross and lovey-dovey and acting like law school is the most romantic place in the world)

#mdzs #Anonymous #modao zushi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #all of my understanding of law comes from the pelican brief which i read over 10 years ago and one seminar on law courses at uni #so sorry if it's bad #):#lan sizhui #also i stand by wen yuan #let him keep his last name!#my aus #asks

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youalexturnermeon · 3 years

Text

Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt. 4 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: This is the fourth and final part of the request in which I really got too carried away. Anyways, I hope you are happy with the outcome. Enjoy

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, angst, fluff, suggestive writing

Wordcount: 2722

“I’m sorry it’s so messy” Johnny said apologetically when he opened the door to his apartment for you and you curiously took a peek inside “Like I said before, my life isn’t that great right now. But since I finally got you over here which I thought would never happen because you’re such a hard nut to crack, it is actually not too bad. I’m glad you’re here.”

You laughed when he grinned at you, you could clearly see that he was getting better or maybe it was just the booze kicking in turning the switch from sad drunk to happy.

“Don’t get too comfortable with me being around. I won’t stay long.”

“But that also means that you’re staying for at least little a while.” Johnny said and heavily sat down on the couch patting the place next to him inviting you to sit down too. You happily took that invitation.

“You got me there.”

You were exhausted. The night so far was pretty intense. You felt more worn out than after a busy shift at work. The worry about Johnny didn’t vanish, you still deeply cared about how he felt, and you wanted him to feel at least a little bit better. Additionally, the ride to his apartment was stressful. You had a few drinks; you hadn’t been behind a steering wheel for at least half a year and didn’t feel very safe driving. Your heart was beating like crazy when you were blankly focusing on the road, always looking out for cops, afraid you could get pulled over whilst Johnny was dozing off with his head on your shoulder. If you would’ve gotten pulled over, it would have been you turn spending the night in a cell. You didn’t want it to go this far. But after all, you managed and could finally relax. It felt good sitting close to him, so close that your knees were touching. You threw your head back and sighed.

“Do you want another drink, or something?” Johnny sloppily asked, eyeing you with a grin from ear to ear on his face “I don’t really have much to offer but I must have another bottle of Jackie somewhere.” He was about to stand up, but you carefully pushed him back into the sofa. He didn’t object, he liked your touch. Normally, you wouldn’t say no to that, but you decided that you and above all Johnny had enough for today. Especially Johnny. You didn’t know how much he drank today but it was a lot, enough to have you laying in corner passed out for hours. And you were wondering how on earth he still managed to walk, although not steadily, and talk without slurring.

“I’m good,” you answered, “And you should probably take a break, too.”

Johnny laughed and rolled his bright blue eyes which were glistening again, showing a sign of life “C’mon, (Y/N), please don’t tell me I brought my mom home.”

“I just don’t like people who can’t link two words together anymore because they had one too many.

“So, you want to talk then?”

You shrugged; you did

“Is it Christmas already? Not only the girl of my dreams is finally sitting next to me in my apartment, but she also is finally willing to talk to me for real, after months of trying to get her to do that. Without cussing me out and no sarcastic remarks no matter what I say?”

“I can’t promise that, but yeah, basically.”

“Are you finally going to tell me something about yourself?”

You were afraid that day would come when you would have to talk about yourself to Johnny, and you sighed deeply, closing your eyes.

“That hard to do that, huh?” Johnny nudged you trying to catch your glance but your eyes remained shut. You shook your head and chuckled.

“No, it’s just, you basically know everything about me there is to know.”

“No way!”

“I swear!” “So barkeeper, slight anger issues, big mouth, living in an overpriced apartment with a crack-head…” “Next to,” you corrected him, “And he is fond of Meth rather than crack.”

“Alright, so next to a meth-head and no driver’s license anymore because of DUI a couple of months ago is really all there is to know about you?”

“Maybe if you change the anger issues with a slight drinking problem, yeah, I guess so,” you said, and it was true, trying hard not to show how much it meant to you that he remembered all the little things you let slip out over a long period of time that he spent bugging you “I’m very boring. But you know, that only means that I already opened up to you without you even noticing.” “I am absolutely honoured. But come on, you’re not boring, you’re great and there must be more to you.”

You shook your head, you hated to disappoint him, but you couldn’t think of anything more that could’ve been of interest to him.

“Besides, you promised me to tell everything about your Karate!” you blurted out as if you forgot everything, he told you today at the bar. And you instantly regretted it. He literally poured his heart out about how Karate was ruining his life. Maybe you should’ve told him that you were also the most tactless person on earth, that would’ve prepared him for unnecessary remarks and helped him to ignore your stupidity. For a second you thought, Johnny would have another nervous breakdown just like an hour ago sitting by the counter, starting the whole drama once again. Yet, surprisingly he didn’t as if he had forgotten it just like you. There was a chance you were imagining it but you though he had brightened up even more. You relaxed and you allowed the breath that you were holding since the moment the words escaped your lips, to flow again.

“What do you want to know?” Johnny asked sitting up more straight looking at you in anticipation.

“Everything.”

“That’s gonna be long but I guess I don’t mind because that only means you’re staying longer with me. And before I start, give me one more fact about you!”

“There’s nothing.” “C’mon just one more, otherwise I’m not talking!”

“Alright,” you stood up, confidentially walking over to his kitchen sink and getting yourself and him a glass of water. To hydrate and most importantly to sober him up a little and ease his upcoming hangover. You leaned against the kitchen counter and looked into the air thinking.

“I’m waiting (Y/N).”

“So one more thing about me that kinda got everything else you know rolling is that I had an abusive boyfriend whom I escaped by moving into my luxurious apartment which meant that I needed a new job. The new job was at the bar. End of my whole life story.”

“I’ll kill that freak if I ever get the chance to meet him.” Johnny exclaimed and sounded a little too serious. But you just laughed it off.

“Which finally leads us to your Karate, since I expect you to kill him with a badass Karate kick?”

Johnny nodded and started his story as soon as you sat back down.

He was talking a lot and you were happy he did because you weren’t much of a talker you rather listened. And Johnny was glad somebody was interested. And to be fair, his life was a lot more interesting than yours. You laid your head on his shoulder and just carefully followed everything he said while he nestled his cheek against you. Sometimes you asked questions and he was more than happy to answer. Everything felt natural. But after a while you noticed his voice getting raspier and quieter, he was speaking slowly struggling with finding his words. That’s when you knew that it was time to bring him to bed and to head home yourself. Softly you touched his arm and he stopped for a second.

“Hm?” he made, looking pretty confused with half-open eyes.

“You have to sleep now, Johnny.” you said smiling lazily, you were tired too. He didn’t answer, he just simply followed you when you got up and allowed yourself to give you a room tour. You opened the door to what you thought to be his bedroom and shushed him inside.

“Wow, already making yourself at home here,” he said, his voice almost a whisper “I like that.”

“Shut up, Sensei! And get into bed.”

He obeyed and lied down fully clothed, on his face a big dirty grin that you knew so well from almost every shift you ever worked, just his almost closed eyelids were different. This time you were the happiest to see it again.

“Are you getting in too, or what?” “Don’t max it out!” you said threateningly.

“Just joking.”

“You better. And now, before you drift away to dreamland, do you have a phone I can use?” “Don’t have a phone” he muttered and snuggled into his blanket.

“What?”, you gasped, “I need to call an Uber home!” You were miles away from your apartment.

“Don’t have one. Threw it away two weeks ago. You can crash here; the couch is all yours.”

And before you could object you suddenly heard flat breathing and you knew there was no other option. You sighed and took one last look at the passed-out Johnny.

“Can I at least have a shirt to sleep in?” you asked but that was pointless, he was already sound asleep. You shrugged to yourself, slipped out of your clothes and threw the first shirt you could grab over your underwear. That was not how you expected to spend the first night here, you thought when you tiptoed back to the couch, but it wasn’t too bad either.

___

When Johnny woke up the next morning the sun was already high up, it must’ve been at least mid-day. The most surprising thing wasn’t that he slept in or was finally being able to sleep at all, it was the fact that when he moved, he didn’t feel like shit. He expected to be hungover, after all he couldn’t even remember how much he drank, but he simply wasn’t, his head didn’t hurt, his joints weren’t cracking, he felt pretty much as always. This had not happened in a long time. He just was slightly dizzy as soon as he sat up in his bed. He looked down on himself, he was still wearing the dirty clothes from the night before and his face twitched into a slight grimace, he was disgusted with himself, he didn’t come home alone, and he didn’t want you to think badly of him now that he finally got you into at least liking him a bit. There was a warm feeling in his stomach when he was thinking about you, trying to remember every single detail about you from last night. And the possibility of you still being here, waiting for him to wake up, nearly made him crazy and his heart started beating faster. He would’ve been pretty bumped if you had left without saying goodbye. Yet, when he got out of bed, he noticed a pile of clothing that wasn’t his. Shorts, fishnets and a crop-top were carelessly thrown on the floor next to his bed and he gulped. That meant you were here. And if you were here, what were you wearing then?

Quickly he made his way to the living room where he expected you to be, not knowing what he would find. He tried to make as little noise as possible and as soon as he glanced over to the couch, he knew he made the right decision. Lying there, spread out on the couch, in deep sleep without a pillow or even a blanked, were you. And Johnny couldn’t help himself but stand still for a moment and watch you. You were wearing his Metallica shirt that was far too big for you and yet hugged all your curves. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you like that. The shirt had slid up and you were there, almost half-naked, just in front of him. He could’ve also been the luckiest man on earth that moment. For Johnny you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. You suddenly twitched in your sleep and turned over on your stomach showing your perfect ass to him. And it only got better.

Johnny shook his head and pulled himself together. You had done so much for him last night and you were continuing doing that without even realizing. He had to return that favour. And when he made that decision he rushed into the bathroom.

Never in his life was Johnny ever so quick in his actions. Whilst showering and shaving he feared to be taking too long, afraid of waking you and afraid that if he finally got out, you were long gone. But his fear was unjustified because when he rushed out, you were still on the couch, lying flat on your stomach breathing deeply and flinching in your sleep. And Johnny grinned, heart pounding too hard from excitement. He even fixed up a breakfast. And you still did not wake. You face was so peaceful and so pretty that he couldn’t stop himself from kneeling down and brushing back a loose strand of your hair from your face. The corners of your mouth twitched into a smile but suddenly you startled, eyes wide, hands clenched to fists, fists up, ready to protect yourself.

“Woah, easy there, tiger,” Johnny laughed “I see my Karate stories have stuck with you.”

Realizing it was Johnny hovering above your head you let your fists sink and stretched and yawned.

“You smell nice,” you said smiling sleepily, ignoring what he was saying. You lifted your hand and softly stroked his cheek, Johnny leaning into your touch, “And you shaved. Fucking hell, you look good. And I probably look like shit.”

You covered your face with your hands and tried to turn away from Johnny who couldn’t take his eyes of you. He immediately grabbed you by the wrists, stopping you from turning your back, carefully pulling you back to him.

“Quiet, (Y/N),” he exclaimed which made you almost flinched, he was so dominant out of a sudden, “You are beautiful! And I could really get used to that.”

“Get used to what? Me illegally driving your drunk ass home, you passing out and me involuntarily crashing on your couch for approximately 10 hours?”

“I don’t like the way you put it.” Johnny said, still holding your wrists tightly, his face so close that his nose was almost touching yours.

“I could also get used to that,” you admitted and that was everything Johnny needed to hear. His lips came crashing down on yours and he was kissing you hard. He released your wrists from his hands only to hug your small waist while your kiss got deeper and more intimate, Johnny’s heart was pounding, he’s been waiting for that for months. You couldn’t help yourself but smile into the kiss. But you were never willing to admit that you too pictured kissing him all the damn time. Johnny pulled you even closer to him, pressing you onto his chest. When he parted his lips from yours, he was placing small kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, he couldn’t get enough of you. You were so stunning to him and you were making him crazy. Out of a sudden Johnny dragged you up onto his lap, so you were promptly straddling him, his fingers tracing down your bare thighs.

“Jesus Christ.”, you gasped, eyes closed, enjoying every single one of his touches.

“What?”, Johnny asked smirking, he was not willing to stop anymore.

“Maybe next time, I just take the bed instead of the couch as well.”

“Why don’t we try it out right now?”

Out of habit you wanted to object but Johnny already had picked you up with your legs wrapped around his hips, making the way back into the bedroom. He finally got what he wanted and you too, couldn’t be happier yourself.

You passionately kissed his lips again, “Everything you want, Sensei!”

Johnny could really get used to this.

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

Wow, look at that, it’s finally over

Thanks for reading that

Let me know what you think

Taglist: @lililolli @cow-smells (you want to be on the taglist, too? drop me a message)

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence x you #johnny lawrence fluff #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #karate kid #karate kid imagine #billy zabka #william zabka

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irelandseyeonmythology · 2 years

Text

Now, you might be saying to yourself "Surely, the bitch has learned the vital lesson from the Sentient Four Treasures book and has given up."

...unfortunately, all I learned is that I need to read more Irish mythology-inspired books, but I decided to take a break from romance and delve into the world of the occult, with the help of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

So, while I was searching for an old ff.net story where Bres is trying to bring back Balor and...I think he tries to sacrifice Buffy at some point (?) and definitely had a thing for the Lady of the Lake before he killed her, I came across THIS. An actual, licensed novel. Set in the world of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, shortly after Buffy's return from the dead.

And this novel has everything.

Implied Spuffy Bondage.

An evil leprechaun trying to fuck Willow.

Badly written out Cockney accents.

Bad written out Irish accents.

Human sacrifices.

Tuatha Dé VS Fomoire drama.

Jack the Ripper trying to bring back Balor.

Pseudo-AU-Bres BEING Jack the Ripper. (He's not called Bres, he's called the very Irish name of Thak...but he's totally Bres. If Bres was ugly and had mommy issues on top of his daddy issues.)

It's like someone read my mind close to twenty years ago and created a novel specifically geared to two of my niche interests (it's a relatively little known fact that I've been quietly doing research on the Whitechapel Murders since I was twelve -- never in large doses because it gets to be a little overwhelming.)

And...here's the thing....the writing style is GOOD. Or, at least, not as bad as what I'm used to. It's not, say, Toni Morrison, but it does its job. Everything flows together nicely, there's some genuine bits of haunting imagery in there, the characters are well-done. I found myself really feeling for the Slayer Elizabeth in the Victorian arc, even though we got to know her briefly. There are times when things are either not explained or under-explained, but I can still tell that this is a professional, polished work. It has almost NOTHING to do with the actual myths, but that's partially why I can forgive it a lot. Nemain is Balor's consort (poor Cethlenn), but....that's a normal amount of batshittery. It can't top "Tailtiu is a dragon" for me, I'm sorry.

The names are. Hm.

-Besides Thak, we have the Tuatha Dé king, Banshee. (It would have been. So easy. To NOT do this. Even in the early 2000s.)

- Flinn the leprechaun.

-MacNair. As a given name, not as a surname.

- The Season of Osiris being the scary time when the sacrifices must be made for Balor to re-enter the mortal world. (Yes. Osiris.) It would have been. So easy. To just do what every other dime store novelist does and use Samhain, but I have to appreciate the innovation.

-The following ancient Irish spell (Little known fact: All Celticists are required to take an extended study in Ancient Irish Curses. Not medieval. Ancient):

As you can see, it looks suspiciously Lovecraftian.

-Have I mentioned the accents?

...this.

I realized, when I nearly did a fist pump when King Banshee™ lost his hand, that working on CMT for as long as I have has kind of. Ruined me.

Oh my God....it's Bres the Ripper....and he has....VANTABLACK. (He is ultimately defeated by Anish Kapoor wielding a steel chair.)

The story is a little grimdark for my tastes -- Personally I enjoyed the psychological horror aspect of the Ripper's fog causing everyone to become terrified and paranoid more than the loving descriptions of disemboweled bodies, which were...a little distasteful, all things considered, and over the top given everything else. It felt like the author wanted to scale everything up so that it was MORE, MORE, MORE (the Ripper needs 12 victims, even though historically he "only" killed five, maybe six women.) I've actually never watched Buffy, so I don't know how dark it actually got, but this sometimes struck me as a little more slashery/15 year old on FF.net-esque with the gore than a 1990s TV show. King Banshee™ has a throne of human skin and bones and like...I'm not saying that the Tuatha Dé wouldn't for MORAL reasons (Never forget Midir demanding a sacrifice of puppies and kittens in Tochmarc Étaíne like WHAT THE FUCK MIDIR) but because..............it doesn't really suit their interior design. Like, that would clash with the whole "glorious halls fit for a king" vibe they have going. It strikes me as being extra just for the sake of being extra, to establish that ACTUALLY these guys are creepy, when there are subtler ways you could do that.

I feel like the thing that it actually does RIGHT when it comes to medieval literature, and that I'm fairly certain it did accidentally, is in the way that the Tuatha Dé are treated, where they're beautiful, described as being like Legolas from LOTR, but distinctly Off, and still harboring a deep hatred for humans. This is pretty much exactly what you generally see in medieval sources, with the Tuatha Dé being none too happy about losing Ireland to the sons of Míl. The druidical sacrifices are mentioned, early on, as being a way to placate the Tuatha Dé, which again...seems like a relatively decent explanation, given that one of the few examples of human sacrifice actually described in a medieval or early modern Irish text, Echtra Airt meic Cuinn, does feature a human sacrifice in response to a blight in the land. (That is to say, sacrifices were not necessarily for a positive result, but for undoing a negative, if that makes any sense, via placation. Though we do have some examples given by the Romans of seeking a positive result, such as curing an illness via human sacrifice in the hope of one life being restored via the sacrifice of another.) I feel like ultimately, the thing that this does REFRESHINGLY, and the thing that redeems it, is that the Tuatha Dé are very much presented as just as much a threat as the Fomoire.

I also thought that them living beneath a cemetery which, again, might have been accidental, is actually a really nice equivalent to the síde. Again, possibly (probably?) accidental, but it was enough to make me happy.

#reviews #long post

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lilypixels · 3 years

Note

...............all of them.....?

It took me an hr to do this....🥲💀

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Teacupsss

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Lollipops

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Uhhh cotton candy

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Probably quiet and smart lol I did my school work and was friendly with everyone so I was a favorite and heard all the nice things 🙈

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

I kinda like bottles more but like the glass ones with the caps that could slice your fingers-

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

I’m for all but sports lol

7. earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds

8. movies or tv shows?

Shows cause I’m the type to watch an hr long episode vs hr long movie idk why but I’m rarely in mood for them

12. name of your favorite playlist?

Drop the beat (ie songs that are upbeat and I like most)

13. lanyard or key ring?

Hmm...I guess lanyard?

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Skittles or twizzlers

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

I had lots I had to read in school but only ever finished a handful lol my favorite I think was maybe Macbeth? I would say Odyssey but I don’t think we read the full thing cause I remember being disappointed about something like that...

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Sitting with my legs bent up in seat with me in some way

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

Converse and some nice but cheap sneakers from Walmart

18. ideal weather?

Not too hot, not too cold, mild like before/after a rain (most the time), idc if it’s raining or sunny but as long as temp is comfortable I’m fine

19. sleeping position?

On my side most often

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Phone and notebook

21. obsession from childhood?

Oh gosh uhhh I guess my like of dolls maybe? Or obsession with anything ✨unexplained✨ like ghosts, aliens, cryptids, etc

22. role model?

Kim Namjoon lol just kidding (sorta)

23. strange habits?

Ok I know I have some and my friends would be more than happy to point them all out but hm let me think...idk if these count as habits but I’ll never place a mirror facing a bed (this is more superstitious I guess than habit,,,) I can’t stand my food touching, if I have a tray like in cafeteria I have a certain spot for everything and uh my mind just went blank-

24. favorite crystal?

Moonstone, lapis lazuli, and I feel obligated to say garnet cause it’s my birthstone

25. first song you remember hearing?

Circle of Life maybe who knows xD

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Walk or clean,,I’m more active and about with warm/nice weather

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

...stay inside where it’s warm

28. five songs to describe you?

Not this again😭 uhhh idk you tell me ajdbd

29. best way to bond with you?

Indulge me when I go off about things I like or learn 😔✊ I know I’ll talk your ear off and I’m sorry but know I don’t often talk about these things with people so once I start it’s hard to stop,,and it makes me really happy when people do listen to me about these things and send me related items every so often or even look into it themselves to learn more 🥺

30. places that you find sacred?

For some reason this feels like a trick question...um cemeteries and anything with ages of history I guess

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

Oof do I really have a true outfit?? I have shoes for this which are just black platform sneakers I call stomping shoes

32. top five favorite vines?

I never,,,watched these,,,

33. most used phrase in your phone?

“Yes”...?

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

State Farm and McDonald’s, always

35. average time you fall asleep?

10-11...usually...

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

Uhhh that one with the ginger dude (I think it was someone’s yearbook photo??) I don’t remember much else about the meme but it was on ifunny, or whatever the app was, a lot

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Suitcase

38. lemonade or tea?

Easy, tea

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

...neither

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Dude these questions really testing my brain power here- for senior prank someone put cereal in some bathroom sinks I think

41. last person you texted?

My mom

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

I’m gonna say jacket since I wear those often

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie or cardigan

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Usually whatever shirt I’m wearing that day and some pj/lounge pants 🤷

47. favorite type of cheese?

Mozzarella

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I-what kind of question is this? How does one even answer this?

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

What comes around goes around lol (yes I’m a heavy believer of karma)

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Lol who knows, probably something dumb me and my siblings were doing or something we watched cause there’s been plenty times of that xD

51. current stresses?

Homework vs free time e-e

52. favorite font?

I like the gothic looking ones but it’s usually not practical to use so idk

53. what is the current state of your hands?

My hands...? They’re fine ??

54. what did you learn from your first job?

How to care for babies and little kids, how to put on a diaper lol

56. favorite tradition?

I can’t remember a particular one off hand but I’m trying to start few new ones like decorating cookies for Halloween uwu

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Uhhhhh like personally or...? Cause we’ve overcome homelessness before, um finishing assignments idk😭 oh maybe bullying?? That’s all I can think of since I still struggle with a lot,,

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Alright let’s do thisss: creativity (mostly in writing sense), I can bake/cook, I have amazing organization skills and many work places have used that lol (bonus is I don’t mind, I actually really enjoy it, very peaceful), surprisingly good balance all things considered, I’m a quick learner

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“I’m too tired for this.”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Good question good question🤔 I don’t think I’d last in any of them/have a terrible side character role so 💀

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

“Life’s too short to hold grudges.”

62. seven characters you relate to?

Dude this is gonna get embarrassing I can feel it🤠

Itaru, Iori, Sogo, Belle, Simeon (obey me), Nozaki (he’s clueless about romance irl and doesn’t know when someone has a crush on him yet can write romance well enough and yeah it’s me lol), and uhh Swindler/Ordinary Person in Akudama Drive (still can’t believe no one really has names in that anime but the way she gets wrapped in everything felt like something that’d happen to me lol)

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Like nightclub...? I’m skipping this ajdbd

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Probably the Barbie site, me and my sister played all the dress up games almost daily istg

65. any permanent scars?

Appendectomy scars and then looks like I have one on a toe but it’s possible it still might heal...

66. favorite flower(s)?

Nightshade, foxglove, baby’s breath, bellflowers, roses

67. good luck charms?

I don’t think I have any...

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Lemon

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Let me think...I read something once about flowers having ears(?) but like not ear ears just something about having a part that picks up sound waves

70. left or right handed?

Right

71. least favorite pattern?

Lolll animal print I think

72. worst subject?

Physics...the worst science

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

6...?

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I don’t remember, it probably happened when i was 6. I do remember losing one of my front teeth during my birthday one year and I was happy since the tooth had been loose for some time xD

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Chips I guess or just like fried in skillet

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

A succulent probably

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Neither ew

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

They are both about equally terrible

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Earth

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

Fireflies

82. pc or console?

I am on pc side now

83. writing or drawing?

Writing

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts I guess

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology, it’s too fun and chaotic lol

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Hm...cupcakes

87. your greatest fear?

Uh,,,I don’t have many fears but I guess one would be falling from a great height? So I would get scared of crossing a bridge and it collapsing or riding a plane and it falling easily

88. your greatest wish?

World peace🥲

89. who would you put before everyone else?

My mom maybe...?

90. luckiest mistake?

I honestly don’t remember but something I do remember is I out semicolon instead of period and turned out to be correct grammar lol

91. boxes or bags?

Boxes

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Sunlight or fairy lights, I don’t require much either way and prefer more natural lighting

93. nicknames?

Lassie, twinkle toes, Ash, poody butt (by 3 yr old I sometimes watch and play with lol he means it affectionately; I call him monkey butt and it’s catching on slowly instead)

94. favorite season?

Starting to be fall just a little more but I like transition times most

95. favorite app on your phone?

Let’s go with twitter

96. desktop background?

It is a moriarty and gang pic

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

2: mine and my moms

98. favorite historical era?

Ooo tough one but I’ll say renaissance as some of the coolest things came from that time

#if there’s something messed up in this string of text #ignore it cause I’m not proofreading again ajdbd #I did not realize there were so many questions pls #asks #jade why 😔💜

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gwoongi · 4 years

Text

wordless pt.1

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick?) au, sugar daddy au, fluff, pining, angst rating: mature words: 4.1k warnings: mentions of blood and violence, unconventional relationship, angsty themes, smoking mention a/n: this is jeongguk as john wick because i’m trash and i cant finish one story at a time. these prompts r from here btw :) im gonna do all 50 but im too lazy rn so here’s the first 10 :D

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Now, it definitely was not a stretch to assume that everything in Jeongguk’s life was indeed unconventional. People didn’t need to understand that what Jeongguk did for work was something that, by the law, was considered unprofessional and inhumane, and so when asked, Jeongguk sufficed for “boss of a company”, and questions weren’t asked. If they were, Jeongguk came up with a slightly more conventional lie, to make up for the reality that was Jeongguk working on the clock, killing nobodies for a bit of cash.

Taehyung, his right-hand man, had expressed how unconventional Jeongguk seemed to be over a dinner in Venice, a little restaurant tucked away unconventionally in a street that did not belong to America. Jeongguk spoke four languages comfortably, and had parents retiring in the Canary Islands. Jeongguk donated money to women’s charities and mental health services, and helped bribe his cousins into Ivy Leagues when racism prevented them from entry. Jeongguk was a Joe-Exotic in the making and owned a rescue black panther named Elio, and had houses across the globe for use when working. And, Jeongguk was dipping his toes into playing house with a sugar baby who was only five years younger than him, of whom he had met in a stakeout which involved the hit being on your brother’s head. Unconventionally, you led him to his target, and afterwards, dined with him in a Thai restaurant.

Things in Jeongguk’s life were far from ordinary, but perhaps it was the denial of mundane comforts that kept Jeongguk going. If he went back to normality, to working a shitty customer service job like when he was seventeen, dumping trash into overflowing piles behind the off-license he worked at, things wouldn’t be the same. Jeongguk would feel alien, like he didn’t belong. At least here, amongst the pain and the bullets and the years worth of trauma packed in his wrinkles (which, yes, if he looks hard enough, he can see some cursing his twenty five year old skin), Jeongguk felt like he sort of belonged. In an unconventional way.

Having met Jeongguk during his line of work, there were difficulties in being Jeongguk’s sugar baby. For one, he always felt guilty for having murdered your brother, even though you heavily supported the hit. Your brother was a jerk, a bully with money, someone who had wronged your entire family, turned off your younger sister’s life support when there was a chance of her survival. Asshole, he deserved it. Secondly, Jeongguk was impractical and irrational and often acted selfishly, meaning he was often out of the country on work, only available in whispers for a few hours and then he was gone, compensating with a few sums of cash.

He tried his best. Jeongguk, despite technicalities including his work and his past and his occasional mean streak, genuinely cared about other people. When he could, he made the effort, otherwise not attempting to make promises to you that he could not keep. Jeongguk knows that he got really lucky when he found you. You didn’t ask questions. Nobody was better for him.

However, Jeongguk was selfish, and broken, and in refusal of fixing what was wrong with him. When it was of convenience, Jeongguk drew comparisons to the last girlfriend he tried to entertain. One who wronged him, and died when he tried to repair everything she had destroyed. Jeongguk carries that with him like the tattoos on his skin, a permanent memory, and something that often disturbs what could be and should be between the both of you.

Jeongguk is worthy of love, and capable of loving. On days where Jeongguk is free to lounge without the guilt of not working, you find it is so easy to love him. But, it can’t be that way. You couldn’t just tell him that. Telling him that you loved him would be inappropriately unconventional. Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears it again.

(1) Holding their hands when they are shaking.

Jeongguk is in his living room, his right leg bouncing like a spring as he cradles an infant glass of whiskey. His eyes are glazed, yet wide, staring at the Seoul city draped in darkness and neon, and without even looking inside, you know that his brain is spinning, thoughts chaotic and loud.

“Hey,” you call out to him, and his eyes stutter to the left to catch you in the doorway, “I heard you get up. What’s wrong?”

Jeongguk shakes his head gently. “Nothing, baby, go back to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Jeongguk often makes comments without expectancies. You stand in the doorway that connects the living room to the long hall that stems into bedrooms and bathrooms, and watch him for a moment. His whole body vibrates like a speaker, his hands trembling as the glass drains and he reaches for a second, or a third, or maybe a tenth. You want to sigh, without being patronising, but you know that any sign of sympathy is mistaken for that whenever Jeongguk is around to make the judgement.

He looks back to the skyline and frowns, his attention panning from the window to his phone that buzzes blue, but he ignores. Stepping across the cool wooden floorboards, you approach him sleepily and take a seat next to him on the sofa. Neither of you move, but he recognises you’ve moved. He bristles slightly, like it was unexpected.

“You can take your time,” you suggest to him, and his hands ache in his lap as he sets the glass down on the coffee table with a careless thud. He scoffs, devoid of emotion, and dips his head so his chin is near his collarbones. In his lap, those hands shake. “Maybe don’t drink so much tonight.”

“I’m clearing my head,” he insists weakly. Those hands still shake.

Brows creased with a pinch, you swallow the unease and reach for his hands. Jeongguk doesn’t say anything as you do so, enveloping his hands in yours, and so suddenly the shaking ceases. Like trying to block the shakes from reaching his wrists, your hands keep his safe.

“I know,” you understand honestly, because you do know what he’s going through. “How about tea, or something? To calm down, calm down the mess that’s up in there.”

Your chin is on his shoulder, and he smiles softly. “Are you calling me messy?”

“Nah, I’m calling your brain messy,” you reply. “It’s a cruel fucking brain.”

“Hate my brain.”

“Today, we hate it.”

Jeongguk’s head turns slightly so that he can see you, and in his lap, his thumbs brush across your skin.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says quietly, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite convince. It doesn’t necessarily have to, not tonight anyway. His phone continues to flash like a light show, Taehyung’s name in bold. “Fuck. I’ll take the call, and then I’ll come back to bed, okay?”

You nod, “Mm, okay. Want me to make a drink?”

“I don’t need it,” Jeongguk concludes. “Not today.”

(2) Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night.

Sometimes Jeongguk wakes up in the night due to nightmares, but tonight, it’s different.

Beside him, you stir uncomfortably and kick his leg for the fourth time. He huffs and looks over, trying to figure out if you’re awake and indignant, or lost in the dream. He settles on the latter when you strain out the name of your brother and his heart swoops with a dull ache.

“You’re just dreaming, baby, come on,” Jeongguk mutters quietly into your ear, holding you in place to calm the thrashing. “He’s not here anymore, I’m here. Y/N.”

It subsides after a few minutes, making it the longest you’ve gone on record. He looks into your sleepy, upset eyes as you break awake and brushes the hair out of your face. He tries to smile for you, and maybe you can’t see in the dark.

“I’ll get you some water,” Jeongguk suggests gently. “Hm? Sweet thing. It’s just a dream.” He says this into your hair in a hug, leaving a kiss on your temple as he breaks. “You’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” you breathe uneasily, and he separates to get a glass of water and returns to find you sleeping again. What relief Jeongguk might have is exhaled as he sets the glass on the bedside table, stroking your hair until he moves away with the sudden realisation that this is not a normal exchange.

Before Jeongguk decides to leave again, he makes sure the bed is made and that you are safe; he tucks the duvet in tightly and presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing his coat by the front door and leaving your apartment, one tucked in the city so far that Jeongguk finds it a hassle to visit.

(3) Travelling long distances just to see them.

For three days now, you have been in Colmar, and Jeongguk is beginning to feel lonely. It had been his idea to send you away, when the heat on his long, long fued with a rival colleague threatened your safety. In return, you got a new apartment that Taehyung had found closer to Jeongguk’s own when your address got leaked, and Colmar could be considered a vacation if you pretended for long enough.

With tensions cool and the coast somewhat clear, Jeongguk picks the skin around his fingernails as a distraction before deciding that enough was enough. He missed you, and missed how you were always around for him when he needed you most. This is what drives him to jumping on a plane in his company’s name, and flying to France.

A small boat passes underneath the bridge you are standing on, and your hands dig into the barrier as you arch to smile at the tourists beneath. One catches a glimpse of your denim skirt and cherry print blouse in the sunshine and extends his hat with a wave, and you wave back. France is nothing like Seoul, and is indeed warm and fruitful and unique. The sun is hot, the sky is clear, and the streets are filled with an atmospheric buzz of friendliness, the smell of coffee and some food you don’t know yet entrapping your senses.

“Madame, je peux vous prendre en photo?”

Hearing the voice, you turn your body left and prepare to face the tourist, but instead you are welcomed with the sight of Jeongguk dressed in black, sunglasses sliding down his nose with a smile. He does hold a camera in his hands, although teasingly.

“Oui,” you quip, posing cutely and Jeongguk takes a photograph anyway, to humour the moment, to print when he gets back to Seoul. You join his laughter as he peers at the photograph and he walks without looking up towards you.

“When did you get here?” you ask him, a round of laughter from the little boat making you turn to stare at them with a giggle.

“Bout an hour ago,” Jeongguk replies, and he shuts off the camera and puts it in his coat pocket. It’s only a small camera, probably cost him a crumb to buy from a vintage store. He meets your eyes with a comfortable smile and rounds in, pressing your lower back against the bridge barrier and circling your arms around you. Carefully, then, he kisses you, tasting the suncream on your skin as his lips wander from yours to the skin around your face.

“Miss me?”

“Terribly,” Jeongguk responds. “I am so bored when you’re not around. You always have something to do, always have something to say.”

You hum in response. “I’m glad I’m of some entertainment for you.”

“Oh, for sure,” agrees Jeongguk. “I don’t think I’ve used my brain so often when I’m away from work as much as I do when I’m with you. Did you know that you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met?”

“Wow,” you exclaim with a smile. “Hire me.”

“Ha!” he remarks, kissing you again and taking your hand in his. He moves, back in the way you came. “Over my dead body.”

(4) Making their favorite meal when they are having a hard day.

“You.”

“Not now, Y/N, I’m working,” Jeongguk replies non committedly. He fists his hair.

“Not up for discussion right now,” you huff, and he has the nerve to glare at you which only makes you uncomfortably angry. “You haven’t eaten in fourty eight hours, and I’m not about to be held responsible for your death when you die of hunger, so get your ass in the kitchen before I dump this food over your stupid head.”

He challenges you. “You’re brave talking to somebody who could destroy your life like that.”

“Do it, I literally have nothing to lose,” you answer. “Please eat something. I made it with love and care.”

Jeongguk relents, sighing at his paperwork but nonetheless moving away from his home office and following you like a child towards the direction of the kitchen. He feels bad, you know he feels bad, and he circles his arms around your body as you walk, stumbling into the space of the kitchen and smelling the familiar aroma of pork rice stew. Alas, he sees the bowl steaming in his spot at the table and his eyes follow you as you hum and set start to washing the dishes.

“Y/N-”

“No words, just eating,” you instruct. “Bone apple tit.”

He grins, then, and takes a seat. “You know that’s not the phrase, right?”

“Tell that to Twitter,” you sigh.

(5) Giving them a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

Jeongguk prefers to see you when he doesn’t have work the next day, because leaving when you’re asleep is an asshole move in any dictionary. So, when one of his men phones him at four in the morning and relays the horror that someone’s died on his property, Jeongguk has to fight the demons that almost convince him to hand the job over to somebody who gives a fuck about the intruder stuck on his barbed fence.

He gets up, anyway.

Next to him, in the bed that belongs to you because this is your new apartment, Jeongguk stares down at you and feels a tug in his stomach. Guilt, it follows him everywhere like a ghost.

Before he leaves, he likes to give you a little kiss for the morning, so the tingling sensation reminds you that despite being an asshole and leaving without properly saying goodbye, he still gives several shits about you, and will be back when he can be.

(6) Tucking your head into their neck during a hug.

Jeongguk wants to hang Taehyung for making him remember the reasons why you had to move across the city to a new apartment.

It had, of course, been Jeongguk’s fault, and when the notification came from an exhausted worker in his line of work that the alarm system in your apartment had been triggered for an intruder, Jeongguk remembers all he saw was red.

The front door was forced open, a body indent in the wood and the front porch ransacked and littered with shards of glass and bullets. Inside was no prettier, with mess scattered everywhere and photos smashed on the floors. The carpets were stained with red that Jeongguk prayed was just wine, the glass coffee table in two pieces and a knife covered in red on the floor. Jeongguk and his men, along with the few police officers Jeongguk could actually trust in this god-forsaken hellhole, noticed that the blood belonged to one of the intruders who lay dead on the stairs.

Nobody knows how Jeongguk got through the apartment so fast, and why, without any hesitation, he murdered the remaining intruders without suggesting questioning and torture. That was his go-to when it rarely concerned you. He wanted those stupid enough to even try and go after you to really fucking regret it as he picked off fingernails and made them suffer for hours or days. This time he just killed, and moved onwards, calling your name like a mantra.

Jeongguk could have cried when you emerged, petrified, from inside one of the closets. Upon seeing you, Jeongguk collapsed his gun on the floor and stepped towards you protectively, pulling you in tightly for a hug. Sobbing into his neck, you hugged him tighter, feeling finally safe when his hand held the back of your head, like you were a precious thing that was of value.

You were of the highest value to Jeongguk.

“Fuck you,” Jeongguk barks suddenly, and Taehyung shrugs and exits the office. All he had asked was if he loved you.

(7) Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise.

There might be the assumption that Jeongguk comes home with more bruises than you do. Which is true, technically, and there’s no hesitation from your end in nursing them to a comfortable recovery.

On rare occasion, Jeongguk comes home and finds you exhibiting a new purple blob on your skin. Like today.

Jeongguk hasn’t seen you in two days, and when he lets himself into your apartment with the key he has glued to him at all times, he follows the silence and light to the bathroom. You sit on the edge of your bathtub, gently rubbing cream on your knee in little circles.

“What happened here?” he asks quickly, and you continue rubbing with your tongue poking out between your lips.

“You’ll laugh, don’t ask,” you mutter.

“Hey, I won’t laugh,” Jeongguk says. He rests his weight against the doorframe, “You open the front door the wrong way again?”

Ha! You laugh humourlessly. “Worse!” You look up at him sadly, “I tripped in the parking lot carrying my groceries. It’s on camera and everything, I want to die.”

Jeongguk pokes the inside of his mouth to resist laughing. “Well, fuck. That’s your leg ruined.”

“I know,” you pout. “Good thing you’re my sugar daddy- wanna pay for cosmetic leg surgery?”

“I like your bruised up legs,” says Jeongguk.

“Me too, but not these ones.”

“Bruh, that’s enough cream on your skin,” Jeongguk exclaims, moving forward to snatch the cream from your hands. “More is not better. Come on, you’re okay.”

“It hurts.”

“Boohoo,” he sighs. You don’t move. “Ugh, whatever. Come’re.”

Jeongguk drops the cream tube onto the sink but it clatters into the bowl. He’ll move it later if he remembers to, and he pretends it’s hard to pick you up off the bathtub and carries you swiftly out of the bathroom and into the living room. Things have barely moved since he last came to visit; the swarms of paper still invade your coffee table and your laptop is on sleep mode by a half-empty coffee cup filled with hot chocolate, because he knows your standing on coffee. Everything is a lot messier now that you’ve decided you want to go back to school, but at least Jeongguk knows it keeps you busy when he’s away.

“Oh,” he says suddenly, as you’re sat down with one leg up around him still. He pokes at a spot on your leg and you squirm, “there’s another one.”

You peer to look, “Oh, yeah, that one’s you.”

“Oh.” He pauses, “Pretty, though.”

You huff like a little baby and he dares you with raised eyebrows. That keeps you silent and Jeongguk moves his body at an angle to the right, sweeping to kiss the bruise better, the bruise that he made a few nights ago with tender love and care.

“All better,” he assures.

“It feels better already.”

“Mm. Magic.”

(8) Buying them something unrequested because it made you think of them.

“So, I was at a school fayre today.”

“Really?” Jeongguk sits with his laptop on his legs, and your legs are tangled around his body like some sort of jungle maze. He rarely works on his bed, not unless the work is sudden and he can’t help it. You’ve just come in, dived on the bed and claimed his waist as something to squeeze your legs around.

“Yep. Like, one of those little craft things where students sell their shit and make money from it. You know, supporting local artists! It’s really cute, if I was good at something I’d have participated.”

Jeongguk thinks of things you’re good at, and there’s a lot. “Aw. There’s always next year.”

“Yeah,” you reason. “Anyway- point is, is that I got you something.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, glancing over his right shoulder to see you, “Me?”

“Yep. You.”

“What did you get?” he asks, and then he’s back to checking blueprints.

You untangle your legs and slide off the bed, retreating to your bag slung across the room by the bedroom door. From here, you take out a small little pin-badge and when you’re sat next to Jeongguk again, you fiddle with it until it catches his attention.

“What’s this?” asks Jeongguk.

“It’s a badge of honour,” you claim, and you slip it into his palms. He fingers the front when he examines it, reading the little words of “Number One Dad” and he stares up at you. “Like it?”

“It’s for me?” he asks again.

“Yeah. You can wear it and like, I don’t know, think of me,” you shrug.

Jeongguk thinks for a moment. Even though it’s stupid, and cliche and a little bit embarrassing, he still thinks it’s funny and thoughtful.

“Want me to wear it to work?” he asks you.

“Oh, absolutely,” you encourage. “I’ll get Taehyung an uncle badge if he gets pissy.”

“Hey, you’re mine and he’s not allowed a relationship to you, no matter what definition,” Jeongguk pouts. “He wants a sugar niece, well...he’ll have to look somewhere else.”

You gape. “Wow. Who thought you had it in you to be so possessive.”

“Please, with a pussy like that of course I’m possessive,” he teases. He’s joking.

“My power,” you sigh anyway, and jump off the bed claiming that you’re hungry. Jeongguk looks at the badge again and pops it in his breast pocket before he loses it and regrets it.

(9) Participating in their hobby even if it doesn’t personally interest you.

Jeongguk’s bored out of his brain.

He has no idea how you can be so fascinated by this stupid game where you’re essentially in debt, but he still sits and watches you tour him around this weird island that is inhabited by ducks and an ugly gorilla villager dressed in pink. And to think that he had a part to play in all of this, because his bank account definitely helped pay for this Nintendo Switch and game.

“Do you like my beach?” you ask him. It’s literally just sand and one coconut tree, and a few shells by the water. Oh, there’s a beach chair on there too, but it makes little difference. “I’m poor, I can’t afford furniture yet.”

“Can’t you just make it?”

“I can, but I’m sick of making axes to collect wood,” you explain with a grudge against the fact that tools now break in this Animal Crossing game. Jeongguk hums like he’s invested, and he tries to be, because he cares about you too much to unintentionally hurt your feelings by displaying his crippling disinterest.

“Oh. Makes sense.”

“Can I show you my hybrid flower garden?”

He sighs. “Yeah, you wanted to show me all of your island, right?”

You nod enthusiastically. ��Once you’ve had a tour, I can make you a profile and you can play too. You can live next door to me!”

“Why can’t we share a house?” Jeongguk presses.

“Because I don’t think it works like that, babe,” you confess. “Anyway. Here’s my garden.”

(10) Sitting in comfortable silence while eating a meal.

He’s tired. You’re tired.

The radio plays quietly updating Seoul on the fires that spread across the city today, and Jeongguk smells like smoke and salt. He keeps his head down as he eats his meal, something he brought home with him to make up for the fact that he’s been absent for almost a week now. You have so many things to say and he has so many things he needs to say to make up for everything, but nothing is said tonight.

You know he’s having a hard time, because Jeongguk’s been smoking again. He smoked on the balcony earlier, and once again in the bedroom. There are now ashtrays around your own apartment, and you don’t even smoke. Jeongguk takes a drink of bourbon and swallows it dry.

You look up at him from across the table, not wanting to press the issue when you know it’ll end in an argument, and then sex to make up for it. You’re both too tired to fuck today, too tired to speak. Just being in each other's company is enough for tonight. The only words he says are goodnight and something you don’t catch as you’re drifting off to sleep. Jeongguk’s awake all night, the fires burn until early hours, and the smoke smell is still there in the morning even when he isn’t.

#im sick of myself and my brain making new fics instead of finishing current ones #oh well #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jeongguk scenario #jungkook x reader #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jjk #bts mafia au #sugar daddy au #wordless

737 notes · View notes

poeticandors · 4 years

Text

Cut to the Feeling Part 3

Poe Dameron x F!Reader (Babysitter!AU)

Summary: After graduating college and needing to have some cash in order to survive while doing an unpaid internship, Y/N decides to take up a babysitting/caretaking job. Little does she know that she ends up working for a familiar face.

Warnings: small mentions of smut, just little flashbacks really, and a ton of angst at the end

A/N: This is for @propertyofpoeandbucky Mystery Challenge! Thanks for waiting patiently, everyone! It’s been wild trying to figure out what to write but I hope this does justice. This one definitely got to me, and you’ll see why.

Part 1 Part 2

GIF by @captain-flint

Booster seat? Check.

First aid kit? Check.

Snacks in case Eva Bey gets hungry? Check, check.

You nod, double-checking the inventory again before finally closing the door. Today was your first official day, and you wanted to be prepared. You had to prove to Poe that you were the best choice.

Heading into the driver’s seat, you buckle up before you put in the address for Eva Bey’s school, and drive off. As you grip the steering wheel, your mind only wandered off. Was this a mistake? Did Poe make the wrong choice, hiring you? Did you make a mistake accepting the position?

No, none of this was a mistake. Sure, you may have slept with the guy who was now your boss, technically, but it was only a one-time thing. Everything had to be professional, which is how you would act when interacting with Poe. Every text between you was simple, it never led to a full conversation. Just simple directions and information that you needed. That’s all it was, and that’s all it needed to be.

Fuck, you taste even better, his deep voice rings in the back of your mind. You can’t help but think back to that night. The image of Poe kneeling on his knees in front of you as he throws your legs over his shoulders is clear as day. The way the light peeked in from outside and how his hands felt as they dug hard into your thighs, how his mouth felt—

Stop!

Shaking your head, you quickly think of something else. You really needed this job, and despite that one night no matter how amazing it was, you would not let that happen again.

Finally, you pull up into the pick-up car line and step out, taking a look around the school. Poe made sure to let you know the earlier you get there, the better chance of getting a good spot in line you would get. The parents can be very competitive, he told you.

You checked your watch, and realized you were right on time, so you started heading to the front office. As you look around, you notice just how much more lavish the vehicles in line were than your own. The front door had a buzzer that you hit to be let inside, and you noticed all the security cameras. This was definitely elite compared to the preschool you remembered going to.

Walking inside, you head straight to the front desk, spotting a receptionist. She gives you a friendly smile, leaning forward.

“Hi! Are you here for a pick-up?”

“Um, yes? I’m here for Eva Bey Dameron.”

“Oh, you’re the nanny, right? Mr. Dameron called and let us know you would be picking her up from now on.”

“That’s me,” you nod.

“Well, if I could see your ID please? It’s just a procedure when we get someone new for pick-up. I’ll copy it and put it in Eva Bey’s file.”

“Sure,” you reach into your bag and grab your wallet, pulling out or driver’s license to hand to her.

“Perfect, and if you can fill out this emergency contact form as well?” She hands you a clipboard. “It also asks for your vehicle information.”

“Okay, no problem.”

Just as you finish completing the form, she hands you back your ID. She then tells you which room Eva Bey is in and you make your way down the hallway.

The artwork displayed on the bulletin boards and the colorful decorations on each classroom door brightens up the hallway. Drawings, paintings, and even cut out projects fill each board. You finally make your way up to Eva Bey’s classroom, spotting a drawing of hers on the bulletin board. Smiling, you knock on the door before stepping inside, and see all of the children at their different stations.

A young woman walks up to you, a friendly smile on her face. “Hi, you’re here to pick up Eva Bey, right? I just got the call from the front desk.”

“Yeah, I am,” you shake her hand, giving her your name.

“It’s good to meet you. I’m Miss Connix. Eva Bey is just finishing up with her sensory station so after she washes her hands she’ll be ready to go.”

“No problem, can I grab her bag?”

“Sure, her cubby is over there,” she points and you nod in thanks as you go grab the small, pink backpack.

You hear your name being called in a small voice, and turn to see Eva Bey hurrying to you. Smiling, you kneel down.

“Hey, Eva Bey! Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah! Will my daddy be there?”

“No, he’ll be at work, remember? It’ll be just us today.”

“Okay!” She turns to her teacher. “Bye, Miss Connix!”

“Bye, Eva Bey! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She grabs your hand as you stand up, making your way to sign her out before you lead her out of the classroom. She skips along next to you as you lead her to your car, her dark pigtails bouncing at the top of her head.

After getting her seated in her booster seat and buckled up, you quickly move to the front seat and look back at her.

“I brought some snacks if you’d like,” you smile. “We have granola bars and some Goldfish.”

“Can I have some Goldfish, please?”

“Sure.”

Handing her a bag, she happily takes it before swinging her feet over the edge of the seat. Flipping on your Disney playlist, you begin the ride to Poe’s house.

++++++

The trip back home wasn’t too bad, you were lucky enough to get past most of the traffic. A lot of the drive was spent singing songs from some of Eva Bey’s favorite movies, and hearing about her day at school. She mentioned how they were working on writing their letters, and also showed you a finger painting project she did for the letter ‘e’, which she was very excited to show you.

After arriving at Poe's house, you both quickly settled down so she could relax for a bit. Then, it was on to practicing tracing her letters from one of the few books Poe had left for Eva Bey to work on to practice each day. You sat and helped her for the first portion of the page for the letter ‘a’ before she was able to independently do the motions herself. While she worked on that, you quickly worked on getting a few things done for the house.

After putting away the dishes that were left in the dishwasher last night, you went on to go ahead and wash the few that were in the sink. There was a basket of Eva Bey’s dirty laundry that sat in the hallway, so you took care to get that started in the laundry. After getting that taken care of, Eva Bey ran straight up to you to show you the letters she did by herself.

“Wow! Look at that! That’s so good, Eva Bey,” you smile.

“Can we play, now?”

“Sure, we can play a bit before I start cooking dinner.”

She smiles and takes your hand, pulling you to her bedroom. As you sit on the rug in the floor of her room next to the small table, she goes and grabs a crate filled with various Barbies and other dolls, and then another filled with small dress up clothing accessories like beaded necklaces and hats.

“What are we going to be playing?”

“Tea party!” She comes up, placing a necklace around your neck.

“You know what? I was definitely ready to drink some tea, too,” you laugh softly. Her smile brightens and she quickly starts setting up the table. “Are there going to be treats, too?”

“Well, there’s biscuits! And cookies.”

“Maybe one of these days we can bake some cookies, what do you think?”

“Can they be Snickerdoodles? Those are my favorite.”

“Sure!”

You scoot closer to the table as Eva Bey sits down, pretending to pour tea into your little plastic teacup. Propping your pinky up, you feign taking a sip as Eva Bey giggles. The game goes on, the both of you acting silly and acting out a tea party when you notice how quiet Eva Bey suddenly gets. She stares down at her lap, and when she lets out a whisper of your name that’s when you realize something might be wrong.

“Yeah, Eva Bey?”

“...Did you ever play tea party with your mommy?”

The question kind of catches you off guard, but at the same time… You always wondered why Eva Bey’s mom wasn’t present, but knew it wasn’t your place to ask about it. From the way Eva Bey looks up at you with her soft, brown eyes, you figure it’s probably a sensitive subject.

“Well, I don’t really remember playing tea party with my mom,” you start off. “But I do remember playing other games.”

She only nods, and looks back down at her lap. You figure that’s all she is going to ask until she sighs softly.

“I don’t have a mommy,” she says simply, with a mere hint of sadness laced. “I ask my daddy about it but he says he will tell me when I’m older.”

“Oh… well,” you scoot closer to her. “You know, Eva Bey, there are a lot of people who don’t have mommy’s.”

“They don’t?”

“No, and that is okay. I know it can make us feel upset, too.” You say softly. Eva Bey mutters something and you lean down towards her to hear her. “Hm?”

“Sometimes the kids at school talk about their mommy’s, and it makes me feel a little sad.”

“Well… that’s okay to be sad, sometimes. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you have a daddy and grandpa who love you very much. And you know that you can always talk to them about it, and they will always be there to give you hugs and kisses when you feel sad.”

You hope that this was enough for Eva Bey to hear— you were not expecting this to be one of the first serious conversations with the four year old. But when she looks up at you, the corners of her mouth lift up slightly.

“Yeah… they do love me a lot.”

Relieved, you let out a slight laugh. “I know they do. Very much. Do you feel a little better?”

Eva Bey smiles fully, a bright sight, and nods. “Yeah.”

You smile, and check the time on your watch. “Oh, we should start cleaning up so that we can cook dinner. How does mac and cheese with some broccoli sound?”

“Okay!” She quickly jumps up, rushing to put all her toys away. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight, and help her out before heading to the kitchen.

++++++

Poe stretches as he gets out of his car, inhaling the crisp, cool night air. Everything is quiet now, despite the few cars driving along the road, and he checks the time. Eva Bey should have been in bed two hours ago, and he hoped that was the case.

Poe wonders for a moment how your first day together went: if there were any issues or if you guys had a great time. You didn’t have to contact him, except to tell him that you both made it home safely, so that should have been a good sign. And he knew that Eva Bey was talking nonstop about seeing you again after the first meeting.

Poe was glad, though. He wanted her to get along with you. Eva Bey was usually pretty shy, but yet you were able to get her to open up to you after minutes of being with her. She asked Poe plenty of questions like if he knew your favorite color or anything else, which Poe of course could not answer. Poe realized he didn’t know too much about you, and the little he did know was only what he learned from the interview and… the night before.

The sounds you made as he pinned you to the bed and rocked his hips into yours were etched in the back of his mind. The way you gasped and threw your head back in pleasure as you dug your nails into his back while he rubbed his fingers against your sensitive nub is pictured clearly. He hadn’t been with anyone who made him feel that good in so long and…

He should not be thinking about that right now.

Poe shakes his head, and wipes his hand down his face. He needed to stop. Whatever happened wouldn’t happen again, and he definitely would not cross any lines that were made between you both.

He unlocks the front door and steps inside, hearing nothing except the slight sounds of your humming. He sets his bag down, and walks to the kitchen to see you sitting at the counter with a laptop and binder out.

“Hey.”

You quickly look up, smiling. “Hey, I didn’t hear you come in. Eva Bey fell right to sleep at eight.”

“Did she? That’s good,” he nods as he heads to the fridge.

“Oh, I… actually made you some dinner— well… I happened to make more dinner for myself then I meant to, so… I made you a plate.”

Poe watches you walk over to the microwave, pulling out a plate of food. Turning, you place it in his hands.

“I figured you would want something different then Mac and cheese and broccoli,” you chuckle. “But I wasn’t sure if you ate on the way home or not, so—“

“I didn’t. Thank you, I’m starving actually and this looks way healthier then a drive-thru burger.”

Poe puts the plate back in the microwave and warms it up, while you stand awkwardly in place wringing your hands together. You desperately want to bring up the conversation you had with Eva Bey, but that would mean possibly having to bring up a new conversation that seemed to be sensitive with Poe.

But when he glances down at you, and sees the look on your face, you figure it’s too late to turn back.

“Um… can I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything.”

“...What happened to Eva Bey’s mother?”

Poe sighs, rubbing his brow as the microwave beeps and he pulls the plate out. He grips the edge of the counter, looking down in silence, and you wonder if you just crossed a line.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… she asked me a question about my mother and then she told me how she doesn’t have one—”

“No, it’s fine,” Poe waves you off. “It’s just… I’ve been trying to come up with a way to talk to her about it. But every time I think I found a way, I look into her eyes and just…”

Poe trails off, and you silently rebuke yourself for not keeping this to yourself.

“Poe, if you don’t want to talk about it—“

“No, no, it’s okay. I… I need to talk about this.”

Slightly relieved, you nod as Poe pushes away from the counter and faces you.

“When I was a sophomore in college, I met this girl. She was pretty nice, and of course I was just a dumb college kid. So, we made up this… arrangement. We were usually careful, but one thing led to another and, well, she ended up pregnant.”

Poe scoffs, shaking his head. You waited patiently for Poe to continue, leaning against the counter.

“Of course, I was willing to start a relationship. I told her I wasn’t going to walk out on her, and I didn’t want the kid to live without both parents. I took her out on dates, planned everything for the baby with her. I thought… I thought things were going well. That she felt the same way I did for her, and god, I even think at one point I was in love with her.

“Well, I must’ve been blinded or something. Because after she gave birth to Eva Bey, and she was cleared from the hospital, she left with no word. There was no way for me to reach her— her parents lived out of the state and I didn’t have any way to contact them. She just… disappeared, and left me alone to care for our child.”

“Oh, Poe… I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well… as Eva Bey got older, I tried coming up with a way to tell her about her mother. She’s only ever asked a handful of times, and of course she is so patient. She just looks at me and nods when I tell her ‘we’ll talk about it when you’re a little older’. But I just… I haven’t told her because…”

Poe swallows thickly, and you swear that if the crack in his voice doesn’t make your heart ache, the next thing he says will.

“...What kid wants to hear that their mom didn’t want to be their mom? That they didn’t want to read them bedtime stories and watch their dance recitals and miss their tee-ball games? Or kiss them goodnight and sing them to sleep?”

And of course, you feel for Poe after he says this. How do you even come up with a way to explain all that to a child? How can you tell them without making it feel like they did something wrong when in fact they did absolutely nothing?

And just how can someone look at a child— especially one as bright and sweet as Eva Bey— and decide they don’t want to be in their life?

All of these questions roll through your mind and you just miss the slight sniffle coming from Poe. Glancing at him, you watch as he wipes away a single tear.

“I just… I love that kid so damn much. I want to give her the world because she deserves it. Because she is one of the sweetest, and kindest kids. And she doesn’t even have the luxury of having both parents in her life. Just me—“

“Hey, don’t do that,” you shake your head. “Don’t even think of putting yourself down like that. Eva Bey is so lucky to have you as her father. That little girl loves you so much, I can see it all around here: from all the photographs and drawings of you both to the way her eyes light up when she talks about you.”

Poe lifts his gaze at the time you stare directly into his dark eyes, making your point quite clear.

“And she knows how much you love her. So do not ever doubt that you give her enough when the truth is you give her so much and more. She is so lucky to have you, and you are the only parent she needs, Poe. If her mother doesn’t want to be in that sweet little girl's life, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. Because even I saw just how special Eva Bey is from the moment I met her.”

Something flashes in Poe’s eyes�� something that you have to tell yourself isn’t really there because if it was, then that would be bad. But you continue to stay silent, staring into his eyes as the ticking from the clock in the living room makes its way to break the silence between you and Poe. And just as he stares down at you, it’s almost as if… as if he—

Poe clears his throat, taking a step back. “...Thank you, for saying that. About Eva Bey.”

You almost don’t hear what he says, but you quickly nod in response. “Well, it’s true. She’s a wonderful girl, and I’m lucky to get to be here and get to know her more.”

“...She’s lucky to get to have you here, too. And… so am I.”

A small, sincere smile forms upon your face, and Poe returns it all the same. Before you can say anything further, you happen to catch the time on the stove clock.

“Oh… it’s getting late. I should… go.”

“...Right. Right, you should.”

Poe watches as you gather your laptop and binder, and stuff them into your bag. As you throw the strap over your shoulder, Poe nods and follows you to the door silently. He opens it, and the slight breeze from outside hits your bare arms and causes you to shiver right away. Poe pretends not to notice as he walks you to your car, and you glance up at him.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Thanks for dinner, by the way. And for… the talk.”

“Of course.”

Poe looks as if he has something else to say, but hesitates, and instead bids you good night before you get into your car. You watch through your window as Poe makes it back into his house, closing the door, and you let out a sigh— the emotional exhaustion finally catching up to you. Running your hands down your face, you finally start the car and proceed on your way back home.

What a first day, you think to yourself as you turn off onto the main road. You were not at all prepared for any of that — for the few questions from Eva Bey to the long, heart-rending conversation with Poe. Eva Bey seemed to be fine after you were able to get her to eat her dinner and play a bit more before putting her to sleep. But Poe…

You think back to the way he looked at you— there was definitely something hidden beneath those brown eyes of his, but you didn’t know what that was. It was for the best, you figure. But still, you couldn’t help the way your heart raced against your chest as you think back to it.

Tonight definitely changed things between the three of you.

++++++

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron modern!au #poe dameron x you

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redmaneroster · 3 years

Text

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [4-5] [6] [7] [8-9] [x]

PART 10 – Domestication

Yang blinks awake. She wonders why her pillow is so dense until she realizes that she's patting down Jaune's chest. Her hand is dangerously close to his waistband.

She wants to move but can't. Below her, her hands run through the threads of someone's dark red hair. Ruby wriggles at the touch. She'd come back a week earlier. In time for the dance but she'll be gone again when it's over.

It's like her baby sister is slipping out of her hands. She wants to scream and shout. To demand that Ozpin give her back… but he wasn't the one who could make that decision for her. Her dad had made it clear, Ruby is the only one who gets to choose, and she chose Ozpin.

She dreads to think on what Ruby's actually chosen. What she'd picked over everything else. Her friends, her family, her team, maybe even her dreams of being a huntress.

Yang bites her lip. Ruby isn't a huntress-in-training anymore either. She's licensed and fully-fledged. Has jobs and is on record as the youngest to join an academy and the youngest to graduate.

Peeling back her bangs, Yang spots the scar running along her forehead. It's deep and an ugly pinkish-red. Jaune asked where she got it. She'd gotten too close to a behemoth and got clipped trying to dodge its tusk. She'd killed it, somehow. She wouldn't tell how, just that she did. If she really tried, Yang could probably extract the story from her; global secrecy or no. But she can't. Won't.

Suddenly respecting her privacy feels like a vice on her lungs.

Ruby grabs Yang's hand suddenly. She's still and her breathing is rapidly pouring out of her, but then Ruby tugs the arm into her chest and nuzzles into it.

It's like they're eight and ten again, when Yang would spend the day working herself to exhaustion to make sure Ruby had a fulfilling day, only to collapse in her arms. Then and only then did Yang permit her little ten-year-old self to breathe, rest easy, then finally sleep. She recollects it like a blur of sweat and aches she was entirely too young to have, but now that they've passed, Yang can hardly remember what any of those pains felt like.

How differently could things have gone if she'd had a father and mother to tend to them instead. Maybe not long enough to mind Ruby themselves, but at least long enough to rub her hair and tell her she did good at the end of the day.

Calloused hands run through her hair. She looks up to see Jaune spying her out of one eye.

"You're getting that scary, thoughtful look on you again." Not quite the loving encouragement she'd expected, but close enough. "I'd warn against developing some early wrinkles but I can't help but feel they'd look good on you too."

She laughs. "You can't be serious. Were you checking out my mom?"

"Pfft! Sure. Let's go with that." She rolls her eyes. He ruffles her hair. "But in all seriousness, you can't blame a guy for admiring that kind of craftsmanship." His thumb runs slowly down her cheek. "They chiseled you out good. You have all their best parts."

She blushes but pushes the feeling down. "God, Jaune, were you checking out my dad too?" she teases but her eyes widen at his brief pause. "Oh my god."

He waves it off. "It's nothing like that. Despite looking like he could bench-press a truck, your dad still manages to look the least threatening when he's got some alcohol in him. I had thought that the day I'd meet my girlfriend's dad, I'd be most worried about being hated. Instead, I ended up worrying I'd just disappoint him. Like making him sad was worse than getting him angry."

"Yeah, Dad's got a wounded puppy look on him. I think it's why Zwei listens to him all the time. Like he even makes the dog feel responsible for keeping him happy."

"He's a dangerous man."

"I hope the title is hereditary."

"Ha! What was that you said on our first date? You could total a car, or something? I think that qualifies as dangerous."

"Hm… Is that a turn on or does that make you afraid? Both, maybe?"

"I think I'd qualify as crazy if it was both. Do you qualify as crazy if you're still into me after that?"

"We could be crazy together." Her fingers run circles over his abs. "I could live with that…"

Ruby curls up and covers her ears. "Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!"

Yang ruffles her hair. "Good morning to you, too,"

"Sleep well?" Jaune asks.

"Too well…" Ruby grumbles. "I don't think I could go back to pillows ever again. Maybe I'll sleep on Zwei or something… No, that doesn't feel right…"

Yang pulls her head up, inching enough along Jaune's chest to rest her head up against his chin. "I think it's the company. Missed your big sister that much, huh?"

Ruby's nose scrunches. "Yeah, I do." She crawls into them and snuggles in. She takes Jaune's hand and tugs on Yang's till they're hugging her now. "I'll miss you all so much when I'm gone…"

The way she words that digs a pit in Yang's chest. She squeezes her a little tighter. Her chest feels hollow for a little longer.

Ruby pulls out and Yang lets her go, but she jerks back a bit cause Jaune hasn't let go. "Sorry…" Jaune says. He looks like he wants to hold on.

"Don't be." The softness of her hands press warmly over his, and her smile shares its qualities. "I'd miss me too." She means it like a joke but it stops showing on her eyes and a frown worms its way into her cheeks. "I have to go get ready."

She glances over to the rest of the bed. Only Blake is there, her back turned to them. "Pyrrha's probably waiting for me downstairs. I'll see you two tonight, alright?" When she's pulling fresh clothes out of her travel bag, she calls out, "If Blake gets up, tell her we'll see her on the bullheads and grab a bite in Vale if she's late!"

JNPR's bathroom door shuts behind her. The door feels tiny from where they are, on the opposite side of a giant bed in the RWBY dorm room. Its distance echoes with the thrum of the muffled shower.

Jaune pulls Yang up and against him. "Sorry about this. I know you were looking forward to going with me."

"You shouldn't have to feel sorry for giving my sister a good time," she says. He can tell that she means it. "She's going to miss you too, and this might be her last chance to feel like a normal girl for a change. Besides, it's only sophomore year. We'll still have plenty of school dances to go to."

"I guess… Save me a dance?"

"I think I'll need a little more than one."

The distant pattering of the shower is notable when it stops in the quiet of the twin rooms. Jaune eyes Blake and realizes that her bow is on. "Didn't Blake stop wearing that?"

Yang shifts over his stomach and realizes how broad her outline is. "I don't think that's her."

They share a look before poking her in the head.

Ren groans and swats his hand away. He wiggles out and takes off the wig he's wearing, scratching his head.

They snort. "That's a good look for you," they say, realize they've said it at the same time, and high-five.

He groans again. "That's never not going to be weird."

"Not as weird as you in a wig," Jaune says.

Yang notices he's in Blake's pajama top too, sagging off his shoulder since it's so much smaller. "…Or in her nighties."

"It's called a jinbei." Ren shakes his head. "Before you ask, I lost a bet."

Jaune shrugs. "We figured. Not like we expected you to wear that for fun or anything."

He pulls on the delicate fabric. "Aside from the wig, it's very comfortable."

"Oh, I'll bet."

Ren rubs his eyes. "Jaune…"

He throws his hands up. "I'm kidding! … Not really. You want one in your size?"

"…Yes." He blushes which is weird cause Ren doesn't blush. But he does and it's adorable. They snap a picture. He can only summon the energy to scowl for a breath's length. "I should get going too."

"Why are you up so late anyhow?"

He blushes and he doesn't bother answering. They don't need one anyway.

-0-

The echoed bass of this year's dance bounces off the walls of the hallway just outside of reception.

Yang hasn't been on a dance floor in months and now the sounds feel alien. She used to attribute clubbing as a part of her, even as a freshman who could pass for eighteen. Breaking it down, it's clear that she only went out there to have fun. And she's been having a lot of fun elsewhere this year.

"I don't really wanna go in there," Oscar says beside her as they make their way to reception. They're both wearing green, to match hues with her eyes and to contrast his. "I'm starting to get dizzy on just the sounds of it."

"You get used to it," she says. "It's mostly just sensory overload. Just let it sink in and you'll hardly even register the music. It's meant to be white noise anyway so no one has to talk in silence."

"So it's, what, a social tool? Like a distraction?"

"Most of partying is. For all the awkward folks, it means they can hide behind something else while they get their wings. For the rest of us, the ones who've got it down, it lets us keep going. Longer than the night sometimes."

"I never thought of it that way."

She pats him on the shoulder. Even in flats, she's so much taller than him. "Try not internalize it too hard. It's easier when you're letting a conversation happen instead of trying to force any advice you hear into it."

"And if I end up in awkward silence with someone?"

"Then maybe you aren't talking to the right people. Take Ruby for instance." She points ahead of them, at Jaune and Ruby dressed in red together. They're talking and laughing. "You ever have a conversation just stop when you talk to her?"

"Yeah."

"Then she isn't the right people." She catches Ruby's glare but she goes back to Jaune pretty quickly.

"Uh… Oh! You're joking!" Oscar exclaims.

"Whoa! Hey! Don't take me seriously all the time. Half of me is comedy."

"It's often bad!" Jaune calls back.

"Shut up!" Yang giggles. "I have the worst boyfriend," she whispers loudly. Jaune pretends to be wounded by it.

"So…" Oscar rolls his hands. "I'm getting mixed signals here. Is it okay to have awkward silence?"

"Yeah! I mean… I guess had a bad example. It's okay if a conversation stops, but not when it drops."

He squints. "I feel like you're deliberately confusing me."

"I'm just not the most articulate person. Not like I learned to be social on a quotable handbook or anything. So when you talk to someone on something you're interested in, like, say, coffee –"

"-Or milk."

"Or milk. Yeah, let's got with that. Say you like skim milk – you monster –" he laughs cause he does, "then you know you've found someone you can talk to if they don't try to derail the conversation once they find out."

"Cause I brought up skim milk?"

"Cause they're still interested in talking even after you mention it. Someone you can talk to might agree and keep at it, or disagree but wants to hear your side of why you like it so much. Someone you can't talk to will try to change the topic after finding out what you like or not about something."

"I thought it was all about finding things in common."

"I think it's just as interesting if you don't. I hate Seven Rapids cause they're all noise and not even music to me, but that's precisely why Jaune loves them. Jaune and his sister used to be afraid of thunder, so when a storm hit their hometown, it was the only band they could listen to on the same pair of earphones without having to block out the other ear with something."

"That doesn't sound like he particularly likes it either."

"But it's a story I wouldn't have heard otherwise if I switched gears! Now we know each other a little better."

The bass thumps in their ears after they sign on in the registry and come through the doors. Blake is already dancing with Penny, Sun and Pyrrha are expectedly missing, and Nora is a having a subdued moment with Ren by the punch bowl.

"Ruby?" They're instantly stopped by Cardin Winchester of all things. His date, Velvet, trails behind him and crashes into Ruby first.

"You're back!" Velvet cheers. "For how long?"

"Not very," she says sheepishly.

"That big a deal, huh?" Cardin guesses. He continues before she can get uncomfortable. "We missed you at Leadership. Jaune cried."

Jaune rolls his eyes and lets it be… For an entire second. He punches Cardin in the arm and they laugh.

"I missed you guys too. Even the class. Ugh! Can you believe I miss waking up early for class?"

"I miss that feeling too," Velvet agrees. "When you're Juniors and Seniors, you lose half your classes and you're not even expected to attend most of your sessions. We're usually out on the field taking low threat missions. Even a noisy classroom is quieter than the woods."

Ruby rubs the back of her head. "I kind of know what that's like now, actually."

Jaune and Yang trade looks. Oscar tries not to look them in the eyes.

"We should get going," Cardin says, reading the room. "We'll catch up later." Velvet takes him by the arm and waves off.

Ruby, like Oscar, doesn't look them in the eyes either.

"It's okay!" Yang says soothingly, her a voice a titter with a laugh. "We won't pry. Just happy you're here."

"C'mon," Jaune says, taking Ruby's hand, "let's see how well Oscar taught you how to dance."

Ruby slaps a hand to her lips, trying feebly to hide her blush. "The punch bowl first, please. If it's spiked, I can pretend to be good at anything."

"Not a chance," Jaune teases. He kisses Yang on the cheek before leaving her with Oscar.

"He really is the worst," Oscar says, sarcasm bleeding off his cheek. "He's so sickeningly sweet. Wanna trade dates? I'd take him."

Yang slaps him on the back. "Ha! That's the spirit. I can see you're getting more comfortable."

Oscar shrugs. "I think you're just easy to talk to. We should go, too. I'm starving."

-0-

Ruby might have been right about the punch. Nora is loud and all over the place, but Oscar remembers a few stories about her and asks, "Is this how she normally is?"

Ren laughs, it's quiet and patient. He sounds older than he looks. "I don't think she qualifies for normal."

Nora crashes into a few people he doesn't recognize but they laugh and stand her up. They're all friends here. Or maybe Nora just has that effect on people.

"Here." Ren is standing in front of him with a plate of sushi, a black dip of some sort, and what looks like green clay. "Try one of these."

"You ever have these in Mistral?" Yang asks.

"Only the cities. Funny how my first time with it will be in Vale of all places."

Ren demonstrates with chopsticks, expertly grabbing the rolled sushi, dipping, then grabbing a dab of the clay before inserting it into his mouth. "Now you try."

Oscar takes a fork, stabs the sushi, dips it, end curves the fork's teeth into the clay-like thing, and shoves it in his mouth. He can only register Ren's panic when it's already too late.

"You took too much wasabi," he breathes.

Yang is already grabbing a cup from the punch bowl. Oscar's mouth explodes in heat. Then the rest of the night is a blur.

-0-

Ruby was right. Someone did spike the punch.

By now it's too late and they devolve into a flurry of laughter and dancing. No one seems to care that there's suddenly alcohol present, but a cursory glance reveals that the staff isn't even present. Coco does mention seeing Ozpin and Glynda alone in the plaza, and much of the staff was huddling in the dark trying to eavesdrop on them. Seems mischief is ageless.

Jaune and Yang don't dance. Ruby is too important for them to let the night be about them, so they dance with her instead. She's at least thankful that Jaune chose to lead her in a slow dance. She doesn't think she can keep up with him otherwise. Yang, on the other hand, is an expert on matching her pace. She's her big sister after all.

Oscar doesn't get to dance with her either but he's fine with that. What he isn't fine with is being completely hammered by one watered-down drink. Yang thinks its funny how similar he is to Jaune but the similarities end there. He gets swung around by Nora on the dance floor and the alcohol doesn't help.

Remembering this night mostly comes out as a thousand flashes. Their scrolls roll the whole night, and the photos flood the memory banks like they'll struggle to remember this night when it's over. Which doesn't happen because the alcohol doesn't make them drunk. Unlike Oscar, all the alcohol just serves as an excuse for everyone else to let loose.

Joan shows up in a dress and everyone has flashbacks of first year. Ruby jokes loudly about Jaune filling the dress out real well this time and most people momentarily forget that Jaune has a twin sister.

Somewhere down the line, they pour out of the dance and sing off-key in the garden, count stars in the courtyard, and then they're out on the roof where half their class has turned up for a grill off.

Jaune and Nora get so into it that they're scared out of themselves when Cardin shows up in an apron and a grill of his own. Yang remarks that Weiss would have loved the smell.

Oscar kisses Penny and Ruby doesn't know what to do with that. Yang lets her figure it out cause she's growing up and she can ask her whenever she's ready.

Nora's corsage gets caught in the wind somehow and Ruby jumps into action. She weaves through the crowd in a stream of red and rose petals. She's over the railing and she shows no fear as she leaps off the edge and curls over the shattered moon with the pink flower in her hands. Her smile is stunning, her confidence brimming off her cheeks.

Jaune and Yang hold hands at the sight. She's a burst of beauty that steals hearts.

There's a cheer when she effortlessly blurs back and falls into the crowd. She doesn't think what she does is anything special, but it is. She is. And everyone knows it.

And just when their spirits are highest, it rains.

Ruby doesn't leave the roof when it does. Her friends stay with her, Jaune and Yang especially. The look in her eyes tells them that she's barely holding something back.

They stand with her, letting the chipped pieces of them fall apart together so Ruby doesn't feel like she's alone. She tells them she's afraid. They tell her they are too. But fear doesn't get to take residence, it doesn't get to loiter and sink into the upholstery. They'll kick and scream until it's gone cause they never go down without a fight.

It sounds like they're all struggling blindly, but Yang tells her that defiance is only the first step. And that also makes it the most important.

In a moment of solidarity, Ruby screams at the top of her lungs as the rain hides her tears and her friends drown out her pain with defiant roars of their own.

And in the next she's on a bullhead, barely out of her dress, and she disappears in a sea of stars.

-0-

It's the weekend again, and Yang convinces Jaune to come to the apartment for the day. Walking back into it feels like a lifetime has passed him by. There's a layer of dust on everything and he resists the urge to wipe it all down. He can't spend the one day they're here this month cleaning. Maybe next month when he's got the lien to cover his half of the rent.

No, that's an excuse. He could just as easily ask for an advance on his allowance or pick up an extra mission to cover the gap. He wanted to push them both to stay in the dorm, but when Yang pushes passed him with a box full of last night's freshly developed photos, he can see the forced curl of her cheek that's just a little too wide.

Ruby's been again for a week. She might not come back. Yang needs a breather to reconcile with that.

She plops the box down on the coffee table as Jaune sorts out their dinner across the room in the kitchenette.

"Anything good?" he asks.

She waves a photo in the air. "You in a dress!"

"Ha, well… Wait, no, I didn't do that this year! That's Joan!"

"Pfft! Not when I post it and tag you. I expect continued confusion from the campus."

"Yang…"

"C'mon, it's funny!"

He tosses an orange in a basket and reminds himself to eat it later. It's not gonna stay ripe if they leave it behind. In his head, it suddenly sounds like a shitty metaphor. "You're allowed to be sad about Ruby leaving, y'know?"

She chuckles and whips back to him. "So are you."

He doesn't know how to answer that. He spent a lot of that night dreading her leaving but he hadn't expected her to up and go before midnight even hit. It's still jarring, unreal even. Like he could walk back onto campus and bump into her, cause that night was a blur and he might have just dreamt it ending the way it did.

A hip bumps into his, and he drops the pork chops back onto the counter. Yang doesn't look sorry but she hides her face in his chest and he lets her hold onto him.

"It feels like I'm still halfway down a landslide. With my parents and uncle are off to god-knows-where, and Weiss and Neptune fighting for the soul of her company, it felt inevitable that Ruby would just… follow after. And it's a little scary, y'know? I don't know when all of this stops. I don't know if I'm gonna keep losing people." She doesn't cry, but her chest feels tight. "It's like I'm either waiting to see who's next or if I'm gonna crash when I hit the bottom…"

She'd been putting up a strong front, but her bravado feels like it's slipping, and she already feels like it's going to break her. Finding JNPR had stemmed the tide. She even thought she might stop slipping altogether but then Ruby comes and just goes into the night…

Jaune's pulls out his scroll and she can hear him clicking. She only then realizes that his other hand is squeezing carefully on her waist.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding people."

"What? Who?"

He brings the scroll close to his face. There's a call and it goes through almost immediately. It's a voice she doesn't recognize but she can guess who it is. She's already familiar with the stories about her.

"Hey, runt!" comes a woman's voice. "Caught me at a good time. Coral's burning the eggs again and she could use a few pointers from her big brother." Yang can practically feel her wink.

"It's nice to see you too, Sable. You're the eldest in the house now, don't you know how to cook it?"

There's a snort on the other end of the line. "Please. Wouldn't know my way around the kitchen unless I crashed a car into it. And even then I'd only familiarize myself with the quickest exit."

Jaune groans. "You can't keep getting take-out and engorging everything your pit crew gets you. One of these days you're gonna regret never learning from mom. At least Coral's trying."

"Well, Coral doesn't have a job."

"Hey, I totally have a job!" a muffled voice shouts.

"And besides, the track keeps me busy."

Yang mumbles into Jaune's chest. "That sounds like an excuse to me…"

Jaune laughs.

"Jaune… who was that?"

"She's the reason why I called you in the first place." He's already propping his scroll up against a bundle of uneven loaf.

"Ooh! Do we finally get to meet this elusive girlfriend of yours?"

Yang sucks in a breath. It feels like she's stepped into a different space altogether and she's nervous now for very different reasons.

"Girls, this is Yang."

"Hi there." Yang hopes she doesn't sound awkward.

On the screen is a set of huddled blondes all crashing to get a view through the screen. In the middle is the cheeky one she guesses is Sable. Unlike her sisters, her hair is red fading into blonde tied in a braid over her shoulder. "Hey yourself. I'm Sable. I heard you're good with bikes. We should talk. Grease monkey to grease monkey."

Another blonde in a bob cut and glasses pushes into her cheek. "God… hi. You're so pretty. Are you sure you're a huntress? Jaune, please don't let this be a prank." She seems all over the place.

"That's Coral," Jaune supplies. "Don't mind her. She'll make proper sentences when she starts calming down."

A dark-skinned girl with dirty blonde hair is pushed into view. Yang remembers Jaune mentioning having an adopted sister with dirty blonde hair. The dark hues accent her and it's all the more stunning when some of the white strands she has makes it clear that all that hair natural. "Ahem, I'm Dahlia," she says with the tiniest smile. She looks fourteen but she doesn't sound it.

She tilts her head to the side revealing another fourteen-year-old hiding behind her. "And this is Liona."

"Uhm!" Liona nearly screams, "H-hi!"

"Is she alright?" Yang asks.

Sable waves it off. "Oh, it's nothing really. She's just -"

"See?!" Liona points at the screen, looking at the other girls. "It's another blonde! The curse is real!" And she's gone.

Dahlia sighs and gets up. "I'll go after her. It was nice meeting you, Yang."

"She's polite."

Sable shrugs. "Grew up in a strict house. We're still trying to shake it out of her but enough about that, why don't you tell us how you got all that hair to behave? Mine spazzes out if I don't tie it down and there's only so many ways to tie long hair before I have to cut it down."

Yang starts going on about products she uses and Jaune slowly starts slipping away. There's an excitement brimming off her cheeks, a confidence to bury any embarrassment she might have had. It's like she's not even here anymore. She's in Clove with his sisters.

He feels a tightness on his wrist. Yang gives him a dangerous look. "Oh, no way, buster. You're staying here so I don't collapse in on myself." She tugs him in and wraps an arm around his.

They're shocked when another voice comes in. "We'll aren't you two cute," says Helia, Jaune's mom as she peeks over Sable's shoulder.

The afternoon is a blur of conversation. Bikes and Cars are both similar and different enough that Yang and Sable get along quick with always something interesting to add.

Coral has a distinct fascination with Yang's hair and has non-stop questions. It's got loose strands and is the furthest thing from perfectly straight but Yang makes it work somehow and Coral has an intense need to know how. Jaune just calls it Xiao Long magic.

Liona and Dahlia, despite being respectively excitable and largely subdued, ask Jaune and Yang both about being huntsmen. Yang catches the way Dahlia's eyes go a little wide at the excitement and terror of their stories, and Jaune never fails to point out every time Liona chews her lip like she can't decide if being a huntress is for her. He lets her sort it out until she's ready to talk about it.

The only sister Yang hasn't met yet is Cori, the second eldest, and that's cause she's in Atlas. Jaune notes that she's keeping an eye on Weiss and Neptune for them. They stop the conversation when Sable tells her that they're really allowed to talk about it.

Helia – she still insists on Aunt Hess but Yang's still getting the hang of it – reminds them that they promised to have dinner with her and her husband.

And when it's all over and they wave their goodbyes, Yang's eyes are as bright as she remembers. "I wanna meet them," she says when they're on the couch.

"This summer then. I was planning on coming home. Sable might have to run a summer circuit for her sponsors but she'll still catch us. And Cori will be there for a week. We can even get Saph to come join us."

"Yes. That. Please?"

He pulls his scroll off the coffee table. "Alright, alright. Calm down. It's happening. Let me just drop Cori a line so we can figure out when it's best."

She hugs him. "Thank you," she whispers.

"For what? I only called up my sister."

"For this. Them. All of it. I really needed to get out of my own headspace."

"Back to Remnant?"

"Not quite. It still hurts. Just a little. I can't shake the feeling."

He gently pushes her away, grabs her waist, and thumbs her cheek. "Maybe a classic distraction will suffice."

She giggles. Her cheeks are warming up. "I missed this. Just you and me."

They press their lips together. She pulls him down with her against the armrest of the couch.

While he's holding her steady by the waist, her own hands can't seem to settle anywhere. One minute she's clutching the back of his head grabbing a fistful of hair, the next she's tugging on his shirt and stretching the fabric. Now she's on his neck, pulling him in.

He loves the way she tastes. Practically devours her lips until he coaxes her into his biting his.

He gasps and that hungry look in her eyes tells him that wants him to sing for her. His eyes are dangerous in response, pulling away only to bury his face in her neck. She shuts her eyes and expects him to bite, to mark her like they do every time, but he's suckling and her skin feels like it's getting more sensitive.

"Ah…!" She bites her lip. She wants him to keep going but she also wants him to do more. Her fingers curl into the back of his neck. Arching her back to the sensations bursting from his ministrations, she hisses before whispering, "bite me."

She can feel the way hot breath pouring out of his nostrils as she says that. You're a dangerous woman, he'd all but said. And with the look he gives her in the periphery, she can't help but feel him saying it with his eyes. He bites down and her back arcs again. Its soft and he's suckling at the same time. She wonders how that would feel on other parts of her body.

When she's curling into him, she gasps as her limbs act without her consent. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and her legs bend and clasp around his waist. She's already off the sofa and hanging off of him entirely.

"Yang…" he breathes. They pull back enough for her to see the manic look in his eyes. There's nothing coy about it. It's just hunger. Need. And after everything they've been through, she knows she wants it too.

He's looking down at her as he settles his breathing and lays her back on the couch. She doesn't let go, only now his weight is on her. As meek as she looks, he has to tell himself that she can take it, but the innuendo sparks dangerous images in his mind. It doesn't help that she's a hot, sweating mess.

She feels him pull a tent in his pants. It's nothing new. She'd even teased him about it now, but it's not out of place here.

Daring herself to look at it, she spies it in the space between their legs. It feels taboo to even bear witness, but in her half-hearted attempt to look away, she instead finds the tear in his shirt just at the collar. She doesn't know if she caused it, somewhere in all the tugging and moaning, it must have happened. In the afternoon sun, it's a clear sight line from his chest to his stomach. Sweat trails down there too and it drives her wild to follow it down.

His hand settles experimentally on her belly.

She looks up at him. His askance stare and bated breath do not need words. She nods.

It trails carefully downwards, delicate even at the shallow scratch of his nails. It feels like he's uncoiling tension bundled in her abs, and every line is a full, happy sigh sung from her lips.

He can't stop staring at his hand as it seems to go on forever over the valley of her stomach. A hand is on his cheek. He meets her eyes and she seems to dare him not to look away from her. Her other hand wraps around his wrist and guides it till snags at the hem of her shorts.

His breathing betrays him. It's practically telegraphing the tremors dancing in his chest. He doesn't want to scare her. The way she jumped back the first time they got this close still sends the wrong kind of shiver down his arm like he might burn her if he tried.

But she isn't afraid. Her eyes are half lidded, her breath staccatos but its even. Her hand tugs at his wrist again.

He undoes the button.

She gasps.

His finger traces the zipper.

She bites her lip.

A hint of panic settles in cause he needs to see what he's doing but he can't look away from her. She has no trouble staring at him herself. It's like she's in a trance and all she's interested in watching is him. So he swallows his fears and kisses her again. Her lips are welcoming but her tongue is a tidal wave that swallows him whole.

It emboldens him. Lets his fingers push passed the zipper and straight over the thin bit of cloth behind it. The fabric is like his own. Nothing special. Plain and normal, and makes him laugh against her lips and she laughs with him.

Her hand pulls his wrist over her crotch. His fingers graze the unshaven hairs down there. Then she lets go of his hand and trusts that he'll figure out the rest.

He does.

His hand is so much larger than her own. That's what she first thinks when his digits span over her southern hairs and inch its way down. He has to pull his chest away from hers to get an angle that doesn't twist his wrist, but she doesn't stop moaning into his mouth.

A heated line draws sidewards from his hands, like her legs are tugging closed along the path his hand into her mound. She welcomes it. There's no alarm bells in her head. She wants to bring him there and trap him

She's okay with this.

And when his fingers smooth over her entrance and finds exactly where to make first contact, her heart's already ramming into the walls of her chest. She wants it. A bite of his lip. Bodies press firmly together. She's already trapped him down there.

She wants it. She wants it. She wants it!

Yang pulls away. He's shocked out of her nethers. His fingers are still wet.

"Yang… I'm – I'm sorry, I –"

She closes into him and shoves his damp hand into his mouth. "How do I taste?" she asks, voice hot on his neck. Inside, she's screaming because it would have been sexier to taste it herself. Then again, she isn't sure she wants that.

"Like you," he breathes against the back of her neck.

She laughs. "What's a girl supposed to take away from that?"

"Because like everything else about you, it makes me want more."

The hammering in her chest has evened out. "I want this. You. All of it."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing. I'm not scared. I don't even know why I was in the first place anymore."

"Is that what happened? Did it bother you? Not knowing why?"

She doesn't need to answer. Instead she pulls away, kisses his lips, and tells him, "The Aries."

"My car?"

"Yes. Could you go and get the installment cleared and… maybe grab us dinner? Please?" She doesn't want to have to say that she needs a bit more time to figure this out, but he's already kissed her and is at the door.

"Later?" he asks.

She nods, a giddiness worming its way into her cheeks. "Later. I'll be ready when you come home."

He loves that look on her. He'd kiss her again if he didn't have to go.

-0-

Blake gets a call from Yang. She has to pull away from Ren and Nora on the beanbag. She's barely dressed as it is (Nora's slovenly habits are starting to rub off on her) and she isn't sure she's ready to answer any questions Yang might have about what's going on between them.

"Yang?"

"Blake! Uh… did you just get out of bed?"

She glances at her roommates. Nora's waggling her brows and Ren has that tiny smile of his that is somehow far more embarrassing. "Something like that. What about you? Do I even need to ask about the fresh hickey?"

Yang is silent for a moment. "I almost had sex with Jaune."

Her eyes widen hysterically. "Almost? What happened?"

"I needed to sort some things out." Her eyes narrow. "Look, we're gonna meet again in an hour or two, but before then, I need to bounce the last few months with my best friend."

Blakes gives her a good-natured sigh. "Fine," she says with a smile she can't stop, "give me the whole story."

"It all started on the day I was born."

"Yang!"

"I'm… I'm only half joking."

-0-

It's sundown when he gets home. He half expects scented candles, ambient music, thick makeup, and lingerie. But there's none of that. She isn't even in the living room.

"Yang?" he calls out.

His scroll pings.

"Take a shower in the guest room and come meet me in your room, please?" It reads. He takes off his jacket and pulls off his shirt when his scroll pings again. "If you love me, you'll come in only towel. So please love me."

He sprints into the shower.

Minutes later he's mostly dry and standing in his own living room, staring at his bedroom door like it'll fall on him if he even dares to come in to see his probably barely dressed girlfriend.

He knocks.

A moment of silence, but it is quiet enough to hear her take a healthy breath before she gives him a nervous "I'm ready!"

He expects a mountain of nerves. Maybe even another try at the lingerie with a bit of snide confidence beneath a toothy grin. But when he opens the door, he finds a gentle smile sitting up in an igloo of blankets. There's no put-upon anything here. She's not trying to be enticing, or trying to get a rise out of him,

He can only call that look honest.

"Are you cold?" he asks.

The question shocks her into laughter. Cause he's fresh out of the shower and she's been cozy in these sheets for the better part of an hour now. "No, no, I'm plenty warm."

"Could be warmer," he says. He doesn't intend to flirt but it's already out of his mouth and she's matching the nervous, embarrassed smile on his cheeks.

"Maybe. Why don't you come here and find out?"

With the towel wrapped firmly around his waist, he locks the door behind him and crawls onto the bed. He doesn't get any closer though.

Now that he's up close, he can see the silhouette of her bare legs just between the sheets. One of her hands comes out to pull both sides of the sheet together while the other comes to reach for him.

He takes her hand, bare knees touching.

"Hey," he says. And it's goofy, and so like him that it blossoms something in her chest.

"Hey, yourself." She calms her own nerves again and he loves the way the shape of her straightens like she's conquered something again.

He's staring and he knows it but the moonlight is sinking in through the gaps in the blinds and he swears her hair can put gold to shame.

"I've figured out why I was so afraid before," she says.

"Of getting intimate?"

"Yeah…" Her hands are sweating. Her gaze is locked to their hands. "I've already shown you so much of me. I've carved out my deepest fears and fed them to you like I was trying to stuff you full. Cause I didn't like having them in me. Like mom, and us, and Vytal, and now my team… When I'm with you, I already feel exposed. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with showing you all these sides of me but…"

She looks up at him, and their eyes meet. "I still have secrets." She says it like an apology. "But I'm not about to share my every thought but I find myself speaking my mind around you all the time anyway. I've been open but it's like I can't hide anything from you." She inches closer and her hand on the blankets tightens. "And this? Us? It's like I'm showing you all that's left. I'm no prude. I don't mind showing you a little skin."

He laughs. She doesn't wear much to bed. Not that he does either. "You never really seemed concerned about it, yeah."

"Yeah, but… doing this means I'm giving you something I can't take back or keep for myself. What I'll say or do when we do it will be new secrets and they'll be yours and… I was afraid of that."

Was, she said. He focuses on that.

His fingers run over her knuckles. She fixates on the way his hands are trying to hold her without getting any closer.

"What changed?" he asks.

"You… you showed me that you were just as scared." She remembers the way he was breathing only hours ago, staring down at her like he was scared of hurting her if he kept giving in to what she was offering. "It was like a hundred little things. Adrian, Terra, wanting to ruin your hair like an idiot for me…"

He scratches the back of his head. "I thought I was keeping a brave face on that one."

"Please. I love you but there's no way you were going to be comfortable looking an idiot again no matter how much you say it wasn't going to bother you." She sighs. "It's funny how that made me love you more."

Her smile falls away. "When I was younger, I was used to affection. It was like I had a mom and two dads. They'd dote on me and sing my praises like I could be nothing but spectacular. I couldn't go a day without being smothered by someone's love… Then… Then I lose Summer and dad shuts down. Qrow would try to be there for us and did everything he could while he was around but he always had to go to work. And I kept thinking if I was feeling like this, how did Ruby feel? How much did she feel that she was missing out on? So, I smother her with enough love to make up for everyone else, but every time I did, I was reminded of how much I missing for myself."

"And then we happened and it's not all the making out, or the cuddling, or the hickeys. I was afraid I'd have to give up this apartment cause I was overstaying my welcome, but then you smile at me and… Jaune, do you remember what you said to me that day?"

He's been flush this entire time. "I, uh, no, I don't."

"You told me it was already decided. Like I belonged here and that I never needed to work for it even if I tried my hardest to prove that I did. I didn't need to earn a place here. We were friends and you thought that was already enough."

He squeezes her hand. "It goes both ways, y'know?"

She squeezes back. "Tell me."

"I hated this apartment. When I first got it I thought I'd just bought myself a hole I could hide in while I drown myself." He eyes the walls, and even in the dark he knows where he'd had to plaster over cracks he'd punched into. "And it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go so I couldn't leave. I thought I'd maybe show up at the clubs and find someone else to warm my sheets, but even when I got propositioned, I couldn't dare to drag anyone else into what I'd put myself through."

"Then you showed up and I forgot what those nights even really felt like. It was just you, tearing every sordid, manic page out of my book and putting yourself there instead. It isn't just Terra you replaced it was… everything else. No more cold nights, broken sinks, or empty bottles. Even when things are quiet in the morning, it was nice to remember someone else was there that I had to wake up. It was nice knowing I had to cook for two. It was nice knowing that whenever I had to go out and do something tiring, or frustrating, or stupid… there was always someone waiting for me at home."

He lets go of her and makes for the vanity. A drawer is tugged open. Yang recognizes it as the one Jaune uses to hide the previous tenant's wedding ring box, but that isn't he pulls out of it. It's his flask. He sets there in full view of her. "I haven't needed it in months."

There's warmth against her skin. Even back then he said that she couldn't fill the gap of every torment but there it is. Definitive proof that she has. And it isn't just that she's done it, or even that she's done it for months, but also that she hasn't noticed. That the part of him with doubts has quietly slipped away.

And it's the same for her.

When he's back on the bed, she slinks her hands away into the blanket, clutching its two halves.

She's surprised at how easy it is to pull them apart and show him all of her. That doesn't mean it gets any easier with the way he stares at her. Yang has to resist covering up again.

His eyes trace the length of her arms down to her toned, steady legs. Back up to her abs and the swell of her breasts, to the soft coiling of her shoulder blades into her neck. This woman is built like a brick house and he loves every inch of her.

She'd already been staring at most of him before the towel on his waist slips away. The broad stroke of his arms, the wound tightness of his chest, his abs are pulled taut but his navel looks soft and boyish between the strong ridges. His legs are thin but muscled. She never knew she could appreciate the curve of a calf before but his legs help make him tall and it looks like she can dine on its width.

He crawls towards her and she welcomes his look of uncertainty as if it was her own. She falls back onto the sheets, prepared for him. One hand on her belly, the other pressed firmly over her beating chest. He doesn't move in to kiss her. He's stopped and staring somewhere on her breast. She almost cracks a joke about it but his hand comes up suddenly and runs along her skin.

"What happened here?" he asks.

There's the shadow of a scar beneath her left breast. She's surprised he can even see it in the low light. "Accident. I crashed my bike one night when driving home back to Beacon. It was… it wasn't a very good night. Assholes just drove on by and didn't bother checking in. Everyone sees an armed huntress and they think I can everything handle my own. Never mind that I was bleeding and calling out for help."

His eyes narrow. "People in this city suck."

"C'mon, they're not all bad. That boatman's pretty nice."

"Tackle."

"What?"

He snorts. "Yang, that's his name. Tackle. You're telling me we spent two weekends with him and you don't even know his name? You remember the old guy who sells dust? You meet him every month. His name's Shop and he's Tackle's brother."

She's laughing. Mostly from embarrassment. Mostly. "And how do you know this?"

"I talked to him?"

She shakes her head. "Y'know what, nevermind. I'm lying back here naked and you've got me thinking about old men and their equally old brothers."

"But hey, not so nervous anymore, right?"

He's right. It's so much easier to just talk to him. "Yeah. Much better tha-a-anks~! Jaune!"

His head's below her breast, kissing along her scar. He's doing it so softly that it tickles. "J-Jaune! Ha ha! What are you doing?"

"Kissing it better," he says matter-of-factly.

"Quit it! Ha ha! It tickles!"

He pulls his lips off her and leans over her, resting his forehead to hers. "No more bad memories. I'll rip out everything from before and give you something new everyday."

She nudges her nose to his. "Everyday?" she asks softly.

He shrugs but he means it. "I'm exaggerating but I'll try."

She runs a hand down his cheek. "Why do you always gotta do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just… be real with me? Some guys just stop at the sweeping romantic gesture."

"I think I'm incapable of being anything else with you at this point."

"Scary," she teases. "Jaune Arc, ever exposed. How will I ever contain myself?"

"Shut up."

She shakes her head meaningfully, something beautiful dancing behind her eyes. He tells himself it's love. "I can't. Words are all I have when I can't do anything with my hands."

He kisses her knuckle, its strength softening at his touch. "And why don't you?"

He's flush against her. Her knees curl around his waist. "Because I won't be able stop myself if you let me."

"Don't stop," he whispers. "Show me everything."

Her hand braces against the back of his neck.

He sucks on her lower lip. Then he does the same to the other.

She moans and it's raw and animalistic, but it's a symphony in his ear.

-0-

Yang plops onto the sofa next to him. "If this takes any longer, I'm going to tear my hair out."

Jaune takes a sip of his apple juice and eyes her passed the glass. She's been stressing out all afternoon. "I don't think you've failed enough tests to warrant a failing grade. Didn't you pass the exams?"

"I'm not worried about failing." A pause. She doesn't look at him when she admits, "I need to get a B."

His brow creases. "You only need to not fail to be a huntress."

"Yeah, but they don't let you be a teacher or a coach without at least B."

"You wanna be a teacher?"

She scratches her head. "No? Yes. Maybe. Look, I wanna have my options open."

He sits closer. She can feel his warmth on her hip. "Is this cause of what Qrow said yesterday?"

"Mom, actually. We were talking about how she wishes she was home and worrying about cracking an egg right instead of trying to crack open a conspiracy."

She doesn't need to tell him more. "Yang, our kids will still love you if you're not home all the time."

"But I'd like to be home all the time. I hate the idea of being gone for months and… ugh, look at me. Losing my mind on imaginary children."

"You're thinking ahead. It's what a leader does. I like to think it's what a Xiao Long does too."

Yang rubs her arm. "Yeah… leader." With both Weiss and Ruby officially off the campus roster, Yang had been voted as the new leader. It's strange having to trade teammates with JNPR every once in a while to get teams of three, but they're always all together now anyway. Still, the title hangs over her head and she's trying her best.

"You'll get used to it. Leadership isn't a hard class and you'll only officially start taking it next year."

"But sitting in it makes me think a lot. I didn't think a class with no grades could be so stressful… I mean, maintaining team psychology? I didn't think Ruby had to consider our wellbeing all the time, and now that I do, I feel like we all take our leaders for granted."

He puts a hand on her shoulder. "See, this is why we don't talk about Leadership outside of class. You gotta detox. What would you like?"

She tosses her scroll onto the coffee table. "These grades. I get this out of my system, and I can start worrying about everything else."

He claps his hands and gets up. "Okay, bubble bath, massage oil, scented candles, and cake it is."

She gives him a wiry smile. "Thank you…"

"What kind of cake?" he asks when he's sifting through the cupboards in the kitchen. "I can whip up the chiffon and icing real quick if that's what you're after."

She picks her scroll back up and thumbs through her messages. She goes through a backlog from Ruby. She met up with Weiss a few days back and the photo of them together (and Oscar getting along with Whitley in back) always manages to curl a smile into her. Among the images sent, she finds another with Weiss alone in her room. Neptune's not allowed to get close just yet but she's wearing the aquamarine necklace her got her for the proposal.

"I'm thinking Red Velvet," she calls out to him. "Maybe you can experiment again? I'd love to help you try."

"Nah, not this time. I couldn't get the red velvet to mix right even with Ren's help. I'll need to pick a lesson with mom when we get to Clove so I can get it down."

She gets an image from Blake. She's having afternoon tea with her parents. Ren and Nora are with her. Ren seems right at home with Kali, and Nora seems to have gotten Ghira to laugh. Somewhere in the background, Sun's teasing Ilia about someone on her scroll. She's turned a shade of pink, which does nothing to hide her blush. Looks like Sun managed to find her a girlfriend after all.

"We can do a different cake then," she tells Jaune.

"It's okay, I'll just order again." He already has his scroll up. "But we're getting three little boxes. I'm not letting you engorge the whole thing again."

She snorts. "You can't stop me from snacking."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yang, one of these days I'm gonna have to buy a padlock for the fridge."

"Like a padlock would stop me."

His hand slaps the counter. "Okay, no bubble bath, and no massage then."

"Fine. Little cakes. But you know I can just order more, right? It's a joint account after all." It was her mother's idea to help them balance finances between them. It managed to get Helia Arc to talk to Raven. They get along. Yang doesn't know what do with that.

"Please don't do anything crazy with the account. It's the last installment for the car."

"Which I'm helping you pay for. I deserve a treat."

Jaune stops what he's doing and just stares at her. She's not normally this difficult. Or difficult at all, for that matter. "Yang, are you messing with me?"

She peeks back gives him a sheepish grin from behind the couch. "Yes? C'mon, you know I love you. You like eating them with me anyway. You need to get your head out of the rain too." Because their new tub is big enough for two, the massage is always the kind with a happy ending, and she's pretty sure the scented candles are just a silent joke between them at this point.

He comes around to sit next to her again. "I'm not the one worrying about her grades."

"And I'm not the one stressing about his car," she counters. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

Leaning back into the cushions, he loses any desire to argue. "I took good care of it…"

"I know you did, so it's not your fault. Just you wait. The mechanic will be back with a message for you any minute now to tell you it was a nothing issue and they can fix it in an afternoon."

She's on her inbox with Jaune now. They hardly send messages anymore since they're together all the time so instead they send each other the pictures they take so they always both have copies. They had a mission at the ruins of Glenn, a dinner date by the docks, drew on Ren's face while he slept, spent an afternoon hanging photos off strings on the ceiling, visited Cardin in the hospital (he's got a cool scar along his arm and neck now), took a hike in the woods, and there's a dozen more photos of them cozying up in the apartment. These have just been in the last month, too. With summer coming, they'll have enough photos to hide entire ceiling at the dorm.

Jaune leans over. "Why am I Hummingbird in your contacts? I thought I was Vomit Boy."

She snickers. "Well, you know how Blake's books have all those fancy words for sex? Like the word vagina is somehow too crass for 'erotica'."

He squints. "I already don't like where this is going."

"So we got to talking and she mentions how, in her latest book, the vagina substitute is flower, and what comes out is nectar."

Jaune buries his head in his hands. "Oh my god, Yang…"

"And with the amount of time you spend down there…"

"Yang!"

"Did you know that hummingbirds can consume up to eight times their weight in nectar? Those are rookie numbers. They should probably take notes from you."

He grabs her face and presses his forehead to hers, manic eyes meeting hers. "I love you, but if you have an off switch, you have to tell me."

She looks down and up at him again. She points to her lips. "They're right here, lover boy."

He pulls back and looks between her lips and the coy look in her eyes. "I… no." He huffs and crosses his arms. "Not doing it."

This throws her for a loop. "What? Why?"

He glances back at her. She wants it just as much. Now he's the one being coy. "Cause this is funny."

"Fine. Why don't I send Blake a few of these little facts. She's started writing and I'm sure she could use some our juicy details."

"Yang, no."

She's already typing down on her scroll. Jaune crashes into her and they fall back onto the arm rest. For a moment they struggle as Jaune tries to reach for her scroll until Yang decides to slip the device into the back of her sweater. If he goes for it, he'll reach have to reach in closer and their faces are already close enough as it is.

"And it's gone!" she cheers. "I mean, feel free to try for it again but there's enemy territory down here."

He thumbs over her cheeks. "Fine. You win." He says with a chortle. "I swear, Yang, you're impossible."

"And yet you have me anyway."

Their lips press together warmly, making them meld together into a host of mewls and hushed laughter.

Their scrolls ping. They go completely ignored.

-END-

And that’s it! I hope you liked it! There’s a sequel coming down the pipeline but for now I have a major Dragonslayer story to work on elsewhere on my ff.net and ao3 accounts. Maybe I’ll post a link here to it when it comes out.

That said, thank you to everyone who gave this story their love. I would not have made it this far without your support. Thank you. :’)

#jaune x yang #yang x jaune #yang xiao long #Jaune Arc #rwby dragonslayer

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spritewrites · 4 years

Text

inhibitions (or, high five)

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Vanya & Five

Word Count: 2062

Warnings: drug use, mentions of alcohol abuse

“Ahem.”

Slam. “Ow.”

“What are you doing?” Vanya asked, peering around the cabinet door to where Five was cursing and rubbing his head.

“Nothing.”

Vanya raised her eyebrows. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing, okay?” Five snapped, sticking his sore head back in the cabinet.

Well, that’s bullshit. “You sure?”

Five huffed. “Let me assure you, I am one hundred percent certain that I am doing absolutely nothing of interest to you right now.”

He briefly pulled his head out (carefully avoiding the top) to see Vanya giving him one of her soft smiles. “Rooting around in the back of a cabinet is pretty interesting to me.”

A long, low exhale. He was eyeing her carefully, the same way he did the first day he came home. Like he didn’t know who to trust. “Fine. Do you happen to know where dear old Dad kept the alcohol?”

The crease between Vanya’s eyes deepened. “We have a whole bar, Five.”

“Yes, yes, I know, but we’re… uh, out. Did the old man have any backup storage?”

“I think he got rid of it all when Klaus started drinking.” She put a gentle hand on Five’s shoulder, startling him. Instantly, the hand was back at her side. Right. The touch thing. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, running his small hand through his hair. “Yep. Fine. Great. Just… need to take the edge off.”

Everything went still.

“Five.”

“What,” he snapped. “Are you going to lecture me about the long-term effects of alcohol on my goddamn pre-teen body like everyone else? Because trust me, I’ve calculated exactly the blood alcohol content that –”

“No, I – no. I was just going to say…” She swallowed hard, then met his gaze, her kind eyes and his blazing ones. The corner of her lip tugged upward. “I’ve got something that might help.”

Honestly, Vanya never thought that her birthday gift from Klaus would ever be anything more than a joke. “So you don’t blow up the moon again,” he’d said with a wink, “now that you’re off your pills and everything.” But now, sitting on the floor of her childhood bedroom ripping open a package of laced gummies with her 58-year-old brother, she was so, so glad she had it.

The circles under Five’s eyes had gotten worse over the past few weeks, and even though she knew he’d never say anything, it was clear that putting down the staggering weight of the apocalypse after forty-five years of carrying it was proving difficult for her brother. She saw the way he startled at his reflection, the way his fingers flexed absent-mindedly toward his hip, right where a holster might be, the way he counted the people in the room, the way he would talk too quietly or too loudly, or left out details in stories, as if he couldn’t gauge how much of a given conversation was supposed to happen in his head.

He’d taken to drinking, of course – he’d been drinking since he got back. But now he seemed to rarely be without a glass in his hand. And Vanya saw the way his shoulders relaxed when he took a sip, the way his tapping foot and twitching eyelid settled.

Vanya was used to watching. She knew how to see things.

She’d been saving the candy especially for him, for when he needed it. Tomorrow she’d go to the liquor store for him; she knew better than to recommend he go cold-turkey. Five was smart. With the right support, he’d slow down on his own, when he was ready. That was her job, being the right support.

Therapy would probably be good too.

“I don’t like sweets,” he reminded her, and for a second her heart lurched for the thirteen-year-old boy who was once caught with a half-empty can of cake frosting under his bed.

“These’ll help. Just trust me?” It was a request, an olive branch. Slowly, he nodded.

“Okay.”

“—It wasn’t even the most dangerous situation I’d been in that week! Dolores was furious at me for days, of course, but at least I got some wine out of it,” Five said, tipping his head back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. Vanya was giggling at his story, watching the faint smile dance over her brother’s face at the memory.

“I thought the apocalypse would be, just like… shitty forever.”

Five sighed. “It was. But you know. You can’t be unhappy for 45 years straight, your body doesn’t work that way. There were good times.”

Vanya giggled again. She couldn’t seem to stop doing that. “I can’t do anything straight.”

For a beat, Five studied her, his expression unreadable. Then he broke into a surprisingly bright smile.

“That was a joke.” It wasn’t a question.

Vanya gave her brother a light shove. The way a sister might to a brother. “Of course it was, idiot.”

He shoved her back, smiling wider than Vanya had seen in a long time. “Don’t call me an idiot. Idiot.” The twitch in his eyebrow was gone. Vanya suddenly went quiet, the light feeling in her core spreading throughout her chest at this realization.

“Five?”

“Hm?”

“I love you a lot.”

Five was quiet too, then, but not unusually so; Five was always quiet, when he wasn’t yelling. His eyes traced patterns in the ridges and dips of the ceiling plaster.

“I love you too.” He turned to look at her. “I missed you.”

“I know, Five,” she replied, because she did. “I missed you too.” Because she does. Did. Does.

His face split again, into that same bright, open smile. “You know what I would think about? Out in the apocalypse?”

“What?”

“When we would stay up all night sometimes talking. Remember that? Jesus, we must’ve been… ten? Eleven? And we’d be up for hours… I don’t even remember what we talked about. Math, probably.” Five shrugged. “I had conversations like that with Dolores, after. Or sometimes you.”

“Me?”

He smoothed out the fabric of his shorts. “Yeah, you were there in the apocalypse with me. I had your book, remember? Closest I could get to someone talking to me.”

Vanya tried to meet his eyes, but he was gone somewhere. A gentle hand found his arm. He flinched a little, but didn’t pull away. “I’m here now.”

He nodded, and when he spoke, it sounded strangled somehow. “Thanks.”

A passing truck honked its horn. Vanya thunked her head back on a bedpost, sinking into the floaty feeling that had settled right around her sternum. She got why Klaus did this. It felt like she could say anything, or do anything, and everything would be okay.

Five made a kind of whining noise in the back of his throat. “I want donuts.”

Vanya closed her eyes, smiling. “Shit, donuts sound great right now.”

“The jelly-filled ones from Griddy’s.”

“Yeah, when you get there at like eight p.m. and they’ve just finished the last batch of the day so they’re, like, fresh and shit.”

“Fuck,” Five sighed, pulling the back of his blazer over his head and slouching. “I want donuts.”

Despite herself, Vanya started giggling again. “You look ridiculous.”

“Excuse you,” Five replied, wrinkling his nose. “I am a trained assassin of the Commission, licensed to travel space and time with an assault rifle. I never look ridiculous.”

“You look like a Founding Father.”

The look that Five shot Vanya sent chills running down her spine. But like, in a fun way.

“Take that back.”

“No.”

“You asshole, take it –”

“No, you look like Benjamin goddamn Frank – hey!” Before she could so much as blink, Five had pounced, swatting at her arms when she laughingly brought them up to protect herself. “Go away, you know I’m right!”

Five was grinning too, slipping his fingers past her weak defenses to mess up her hair and poke at her cheeks until she had to hold her stomach in laughter. “Take it back, I said!” he crowed, sounding like he was on the edge of laughter himself. He managed a lucky strike when blunt fingernails skated over the crease of her neck, and she scrunched her shoulder with a squeal.

“No – no, fuck, Five –”

Vanya’s flailing hands struggled to gain any sort of advantage against Five’s skilled assassin reflexes, to no avail. She was horribly ticklish at the best of times, but now the ruthless pokes that were attacking her nerves overwhelmed her, and she curled up into a ball of giggles on the floor.

Through wet lashes she could see Five’s grin as he methodically took her apart, relentlessly tickling all the places he knew were torture – ears down to collarbone, and then jumping down to squeeze at her sides, making her shriek. His skinny teenage fingers were unfortunately perfect for tickling at her ribs and sneaking their way into the crease of her neck.

Vanya was laughing the hardest she’d laughed in a long time, maybe ever. Nobody in recent memory had known her like this, known her well enough to completely eviscerate her the way that Five always, always could. Damn him. This was definitely cheating.

Her laughter hit a fever pitch when Five got a hold of one of her kicking feet. Shit.

“Please, I – fuck! Okay, okay, I take it back, mercy!”

Five stopped, smirking. “Assassins don’t show mercy, except to ticklish sisters.”

A few residual giggles escaped through Vanya’s nose. “Shut up.”

“Me, shut up? Me? Excuse you, you called me a fucking Founding Father –”

“I didn’t say you were a Founding Father, I said you looked –”

“Vanya, I don’t think you understand that I am still holding on to your ankle, and strategically – hey!”

Swiftly, Vanya scooped up his own ankle and held it in her lap, a mischievous smirk on her face. She had completely forgotten about Five’s thing with unanticipated touch, but his eyes were just as bright as hers. “Oh yeah?”

Five’s smirk didn’t waver. “Nice try, I’m not ticklish.”

“Is that so?” She tugged on his leg, tucking it under her arm and hovering her fingertips over his knee. Five nearly choked.

“Wait –”

A squeeze was all it took for Five to collapse into hysterical laughter, squirming and flailing, but more squeezes couldn’t hurt. Vanya was grinning, digging in mercilessly. Served him right for attacking her, he wasn’t not the only one who remembers ticklish spots. It occurred to her that she was maybe being a little cruel, going right for his weakness immediately, but the loud, bright cackles pouring out of her brother’s mouth were worth every kick that he landed.

Five pounded a fist on the floor, mouthing something resembling words, but he couldn’t manage anything coherent through his helpless laughter. All right then, mercy it is. She graciously released his leg, which shot up into his body as he curled in on himself.

“F-fuck you,” he panted.

Vanya chuckled. “Oh come on, surely assassins are familiar with the concept of revenge?”

He said nothing, but his smile, weak from tickles, widened. She wrinkled her brow. “What’s that for?”

“S’nothing. Hic.”

“Are you… are those hiccups?”

“No.” Hic. “…Fuck off.”

Vanya burst into another fit of laughter, earning her a light shove. Five tried to school his face into an angry expression, but he was laughing too.

“I take back everything I said, I didn’t miss you, I don’t love you, you’re an asshole –”

She giggled and shoved him back. “You’re an asshole, but we love you anyway.”

The faux-anger melted away. “I know.”

For a long moment, a comfortable silence fell over the siblings, the kind that they used to fall into around four in the morning when they had both squeezed onto Five’s bed for the night to talk about training and music and math and family.

Five yawned despite himself. “M’fuckin’ sleepy,” he grumbled.

Vanya smiled. “You sound like a kid.”

“I look like one, too,” he said, and at first Vanya thought he might be angry. He usually was when he talked about his body. But then he smiled again. He kept doing that. His eyes were shining. “I’m sorry it took me so long. The calculation took years.”

Vanya shifted to face him. “Talk to me about it.”

Five’s smile grew, and Vanya knew, somewhere in her chest, that they would be okay.

#tickling #tua #umbrella academy #tickle fic #my fics #ticklish!vanya #ticklish!five #five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #i wrote this for the pun and then it got out of hand

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smolthealmighty · 3 years

Text

Spinaraki Week Level 2 Day 1: Chase

Give Myself To You

When Spinner had the idea to visit his hometown and show off his old hideaways to Tomura, he thought it would be romantic. He could turn these sad places where he went to cry into secluded havens where he could spend some quality alone time with the love of his life, and do something he's wanted to do since their third date. He was not expecting a neon orange pickup truck to interrupt the date by hurtling towards them at high speed.

In which Spinner's old bullies want to run him over with their truck, Tomura wants to beat the shit out of them for daring to try, and Spinner just wants to pop the question.

~~~~~

This was not how this date was supposed go. Spinner just wanted to show his boyfriend around his hometown, give him a tour of all the isolated spots he would hide away in before he eventually shut himself up inside the Iguchi house. It was gonna be a nice romantic getaway, where the places he associated with some of his worst memories could be re-contextualized as he turned them into secluded little havens where he could woo his boyfriend –and eventually propose to him– in peace.

There they were, sitting together at the edge of the forest that semi-surrounded the town, watching the sun start to set over the hilly meadow that lay below them. Tomura was fully relaxed for once, leaning heavily on his boyfriend as he reminisced about the utter disaster that was the one time they tried to go clubbing, while Spinner was mustering up his courage and fidgeting with the rings in his jacket’s pocket. Just as he turned to face Tomura and was about to start the speech he had been revising in his mind since –admittedly– their third date, he saw the unmistakable neon orange pickup truck that belonged to Spinner’s worst nightmares, Nōtarin, Iyaga, and Rase, speeding in the background. And the truck was gunning straight for them!

“Oh no.”

“Hm, what do you mean ‘oh no’?” asked Tomura, who also uttered an “oh no” once Spinner pointed towards the truck that was now only a hundred meters away. With reflexes that were still etched into his bones after years of dealing with the trio, Spinner clutched his boyfriend close and launched the both of them down the hill in a barrel roll, barely missing the thick tires of the truck as it blew past them.

“What the hell was that shit?” yelled Tomura, as Spinner shot up, grabbed his hand, and lead them towards one of the few trees that dotted the meadow.

“Those are the assholes I told you about, the ones who always went after me. One of them must’ve seen me and recognized me, and now they’re picking back up from where we last left off!”

“You last left off with them trying to turn you into roadkill?!”

As they ducked into the hollow, a chorus of brash voices with heavy country accents boomed across the meadow.

“Shuichi, you purse designer’s wet dream! Why don’t you let us mount your lizard head to the wall like the hunting trophy you are!”

“Nōtarin, I saw someone with him, hey gecko geek, do you mind if we mount your friend too?”

“Damn Iyaga, keep it in your pants. Though to be fair, compared to talon-hands you’d probably be a better fit!”

At this point Tomura was already struggling against Spinner to march out of the hollow and wreak vengeance. “C’mon Spinner, I’ll mount their heads on our base’s wall!”

“Would you just gimme a sec to cool down a bit?!” Tomura relented and stopped squirming, letting Spinner hold him as he tried to stop trembling.

“Ugh, I swear, they always know how to get under my skin. And I really thought I’d be over them by now.”

Tomura turned to face Spinner and squeezed him back, taking his boyfriend’s scaly beak and pressing it into his scarred neck. “You’ll be alright. You’re just a little stuck, I’m right here if you need a push you know.”

Spinner sighed as he nuzzled the curve of Tomura’s shoulder. “I know I’m not the pinnacle of dating material but damn, people can have different tastes.”

Tomura snorted, “Oh please, as if those hillbilly bitches know anything about ‘good taste’. If your loyalty and empathy for empty husks like me aren’t enough to prove ‘em wrong, then you having the muscles to be able to wield a giant ‘fuck you’ sword should’ve done the job. The fact they can’t see any of that just shows that their IQ scores are all in the negatives.”

Looking up and seeing Tomura’s self-assured smile, the smile graced his face whenever he was so sure that he was right, knowing that he truly believed that his boyfriend was really all that, melted Spinner’s heart into a puddle of goo.

“Marry me.”

Maybe melted it a little too much.

“Huh?”

Realizing what just came out of his mouth, Spinner blushed violently and tried to start some damage control. “Uh shoot I mean um-”

“Hey Nōtarin, let’s ram into that tree! I think I hear them over there!”

Hearing that brought Spinner back to his senses, and he dragged Tomura out of the hollow, Nōtarin swerving just enough to only nick one of the headlights off the truck before resuming the chase.

“Son of a bitch, I had it all planned out and I messed it up!”

“Had what planned out?” asked Tomura, still in a whirl from what he was pretty sure he heard Spinner blurt just seconds ago.

“You know what, it’s fine, I’ll just do it on the fly. Follow me!”

They booked it across the meadow, Spinner weaving them around the hidden hills and valleys camouflaged beneath the waist-high grass. The truck kept slowly gaining on them, but the constant bangs and thumps of the truck bouncing against the uneven ground and the arguing between the driver and his passengers betrayed how little the tormentors knew about the terrain.

“Dammit, stay still you lizard-fuck!”

“Nah, let him keep running. Makes the chase more exciting!”

“Maybe if you’d gotten your driver’s license, you’d actually be able to hit him Nōtarin!”

“Fuck off Rase!”

Jumping over a particularly thick mud puddle, Spinner finally began the speech that had been previously interrupted.

“I’m sure you already know that I fell for you pretty fast-”

“Understatement of the year, but I’m not one to talk.”

The neon orange paint was splattered with mud, with the new coat of brown getting bigger as the wheels spun, sluggishly making its way through the puddle.

Spinner laughed breathlessly as he continued, “-yeah, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able put how much the love you gave me in return means to me into words. I couldn’t do it even if the ocean was made of ink and the earth was paper, it just wouldn’t be enough.”

“Shuichi…”

“And, well, since I can’t use words, I thought I’d show my devotion with some kind of gift, but I don’t really have much to give you except myself. Still, I’ll give that to you for the rest of my life if you want it.”

By this point they had stopped just a few feet in front of a moss-covered boulder, one that blended in with the green grass and was in the direct pathway of the truck that continued driving towards them at top speed.

Ignoring the oncoming truck, Spinner took Tomura’s other hand into his own, and softly asked, “Tomura, will you marry me?”

The truck hit the rock, skyrocketing up and over the couple. The screams of the driver and his passengers fell on deaf ears as Tomura gazed into bright, cherry-petal eyes and answered the proposal:

“You’re more than enough for me, you’re more than I could ever dream of asking for. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Not even a moment after he accepted, a loud crash echoed across the meadow as the truck collided with the ground, flipping over as it did so. The bullies were quick to exit the wreck and make their way towards the still lovestruck duo to attack them. It was a farce from the start, the newly established fiancés barely paying them any attention as they began to brawl.

“Look at you all smiley and shit,” said Tomura as he kicked Rase across the field.

“Why wouldn’t I be all smiles? I’m gonna get to marry to the love of my life! You should see your face right now, looks like your smile’s gonna split your face in two with how big it is!” exclaimed Spinner, dodging Nōtarin’s sluggish punches with ease.

“Touché, fiancé. I bet you’ve already got a plan for everything that comes next, you gooey romantic.”

“Well, I was thinking we could have a small ceremony, just us and the league. Nothing too fancy, we’d just do the vows, ring exchange, ‘I do’s’, and sealing it with a kiss, all within fifteen minutes tops. That way we can splurge on the reception, the best music-” Nōtarin screamed as his arm was sliced by Spinner’s hunting knife.

“-the most delicious food and drinks-” Nōtarin gurgled as the knife ran through his neck.

“-and a cake so big that’ll make everyone sick. We’d just have to grab someone to officiate the thing and make it official.”

“We can get Giran to do it, he’s got just enough connections that he could make it happen.” Iyaga howled as his chest caved in.

“And for the honeymoon, I was thinking about taking a joyride on the coastline. We could stock up the van and make stops at all the beaches, and maybe get rid of a few heroes along the way if we’re up for it.”

“That sounds good to me, I’m certainly looking forward to having some fun alone time to ourselves!” Tomura cried happily, as Rase joined Iyaga in the pile of dust that lay at his feet.

By the time they came down from the high of the fight, the sun was dipping below the tree line, Tomura and Spinner sprawled out next to each other on the bloodstained earth.

“Ah shit,” said Tomura, “I just realized that there goes my future date idea of murdering your hometown bullies.”

Spinner chuckled at his fiancé’s annoyed tone, “That’s okay, we only murdered a couple of them. Next time we can take down the town leaders who encouraged everything, make a day out of it.”

“Hmm, alright, but I’m planning it. It’s only fair.”

Satisfied, Spinner let out a sigh before suddenly sitting up. “Oh right, I gotcha these,” he said as he pulled the rings out of his pocket.

“It’s just a pair of those plastic rings from the arcade we went to a while back, but I figure we’re not gonna wear these for too long because they’re just engagement rings. We can rob a jewelry store together to pick out the wedding rings.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Tomura, as they each took turns slipping the rings onto each other’s fingers. Taking a second to let the presence of a ring on his finger sink in, Tomura smiled and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful that Re-Destro only snapped off my first three fingers.”

“Well, that’s one way to say you’re happy to be engaged,” Spinner joked.

“Hm. Then I’ll say it more romantically, just for you.” This time, it was Tomura who took Spinner’s hands into his own as he spoke his piece:

“Shuichi, you are one thing in this world that I could never hate, and the only person I will ever promise myself to. I’ll do whatever it takes to give you the life you want to live. I love you, and I’ll continue to love you until the stars grow cold, and even after that.”

If that speech hadn’t already swept Spinner off his feet, then the deep kiss Tomura initiated sent his heart skyward with how much it fluttered. When they both came down to earth, they went about flipping the thoroughly beat-up truck right side up, and as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon, the newly engaged couple drove off into the ink and lavender sky.

#SpinarakiWeekLevel2 #SpinarakiWeek2021 #spinaraki #shigaraki tomura #spinner #shuichi iguchi #smol’s stuff #smol's stories

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atlafan · 4 years

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My Everything - Part Ten

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut! 6K

Masterpost

You and Harry let Buster sleep in the bed with you that night since you’d be away from him for so long. Niall drove you both to the airport the next morning. You were beyond excited for this trip. You and Harry were pros at flying together at this point. He knew to keep an arm around you while you slept, and he’d keep his head rested on yours.

When you get off the plane you each head into the bathroom to change into some lighter clothes. You brought a light green pair of shorts and a white tank top to wear, and Harry changed into a pair of light blue shorts with a black t-shirt. You both looked very ready for Florida.

“I can’t wait for you to bust out your real Florida clothes.” You giggle. “You know the ones that make you look like a grandpa in Miami?”

“Oh baby, I brought all that shit.” He winks. He reaches into his carry on and hands you your fast pass band. “We need ‘em when we get in line for the buses.”

You both navigate through the Orlando airport, and wait for the bus to your resort. You get on and about halfway through the ride you go into the Disney app to see if your room is ready.

“Oh look! Floor four, room 3000.” You show Harry your phone. “But our luggage most likely won’t be there until later tonight.”

“S’alright, we can at least stick our backpacks in the room for now.”

You hum your response. The two of you were in awe of the resort. You were able to use your wristbands to unlock the door, you didn’t even need to go to the desk in the lobby to check in. There was a note on the little table in the room.

“Listen to this!” You exclaim, and he turns to look at you. “Congratulations on your recent partnership, we thank you for wanting to celebrate your honeymoon with us. Let us know how we can make this experience even more magical for you.”

“That’s cute.” He pouts.

The two of you walk the grounds of the resort just to get familiar with where the pool and restaurants are.

“Alright, so we’re doin’ EPCOT this afternoon?” He asks.

“Mhm, look that’s where all the shuttles come.”

It takes a few minutes to actually get into the park, but once you do you couldn’t be more thrilled. They give you and Harry buttons that say “Just Married” on them for you to wear. You use your Fast Pass to go on Spaceship Earth first. You were mostly excited to get to the World’s Fair so you could eat a ton of the different food.

You and Harry have a lot of fun in Mexico, and go on the Donald Duck ride. You take lots of selfies as you go around from country to country. You ended up eating at a French restaurant that night and it was delicious. You both stayed in the park to see the fireworks and it was beautiful. Harry had his arms wrapped around you, chin resting on your head.

By the time you got back to your room, you were pooped. You both do your nightly routine and climb into bed.

“Oh my god, this is beyond comfortable.” You say.

“What’s on the itinerary tomorrow, sweetheart?”

“We are spending the day at Magic Kingdom. Our first Fast Pass is at Space Mountain. Once we use all three we can add more. Our reservation is at like 9AM, so we’ll have time for breakfast here.”

“It’s gonna be really sunny tomorrow, we’ll need sunscreen and all that.”

“We can also take a break in the afternoon if we feel like coming back for a swim before going back in for dinner. We’re eating in Disney Springs tomorrow.”

“Great first day, hm?”

“It was perfect.” You kiss goodnight and slowly drift off after getting comfortable.

“Are you sure you’re okay with goin’ on this ride? You hate roller coasters.” Harry says to you as you’re in line for Space Mountain.

“I think I’ll be okay. Oh shit…we can’t sit together?”

“It’s a single rider, you wanna go behind me?”

“Yeah.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh during the ride when he heard you scream and then start to laugh like you always did.

“I did pretty well.”

“You did, I’m very proud of you.” He kisses your hairline. “What’s next?”

“We are meeting Princess Ariel.” You beam. “She’s my favorite.”

“Sounds good to me. Gives us a chance to really walk through the park.”

There was even more wonderful food to snack on at Magic Kingdom. You both were just having an amazing time. The weather was beautiful and you had no cares in the world. Over the next few days you did everything in the Disney book. You had dinner in Belle’s Castle, you screamed your head off on the Tower of Terror, and opted to let Harry go on the Rockin’ Roller Coaster alone. You took a ton of pictures, especially in front of Cinderella’s Castle. You also tried every Dole Whip you could find in each park. The only thing was that most nights by the time you’d finally get back to your room, you both would be too tired to be intimate. And then in the morning, you’d have to get up, eat breakfast and get to the park. It was an amazing four days, but you were excited to head to Fort Meyers.

Harry rented a car for the two of you, and to the West Coast you went.

“God, that was so much fun, I already wanna plan our next trip.” You laugh. “I think Sarah had the right idea about a group trip.”

“Oh, definitely. We could all stay on resort, drink around the world, it would be great.”

“Maybe in a few years, yeah? It took so long to save up and pay off.”

“I agree, this is something you do once in a while. Thanks for takin’ care of most of the plannin’ for it.” He rubs your thigh. “Wait until you see the place we’re headed, you’ll love it.”

“I’m very excited.” You check your phone. “I was hoping Mariah would have sent us some photos…”

“She said she wants it all to be a big surprise. She’s working on making us a book and all that. Just be patient, baby. Then we can take our time goin’ through all of it.”

“You’re right. Plus, now we can go through all the pictures we just took. The one of you and Goofy has got to be my favorite.”

“I liked the ones you took with Woody and Bo Peep, that was hilarious.”

“Should we stop off at a grocery store before going to the house just to get what we need for the next few days?”

“Good idea, I don’t see us leavin’ too much.” He smirks.

“You know…and I don’t want this to kill the vibe at all…but the day we come back our flight is in the late afternoon, and we’re only an hour from Nannie. I was wondering if maybe she could come have breakfast with us?”

“On the last morning? Sure.” He shrugs. “She won’t mind takin’ the drive?”

“Nah, plus, she’d bring a friend with her. Thanks, I just feel guilty being in Florida and not seeing her, even though we just saw her.”

“No, I get it. I’d wanna spend time with her too.” He smiles. “She was so cute when she danced with me at the wedding.”

“She couldn’t wait to get her hands on you.” You laugh and put your hand over his. “Neither can I. Oh! Seth just texted a picture of Buster, our little baby boy.” You pout and show Harry quick. You can’t help but start laughing.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just…sometimes I think back, and like, did you ever think Seth would be one of your best friends?”

“No.” Harry laughs. “He really is a great guy, I’m glad he’s in my life.”

“I think he wants to marry Isaac, they could be next out of all our friends.”

“I wanna know what the fuckin’ hold up with Niall and Sarah is. I feel like something’s comin’ soon with them, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Sarah’s looking at new schools to work at…she, uh, really wants to get in at a prep school. They may start looking at houses soon.”

“Yeah, Niall mentioned something about that. He really likes living in the city, it would suck to commute like that.”

“I know.” You sigh. “They have a lot to consider. At least Rach and Mariah seem to be staying in the city for a bit longer.”

“I think Mariah wants to have a baby soon too.”

“Oh really?!” You squeal.

“Yeah, she’s mentioned it a couple of times. They haven’t talked about it much, but she wants to be the one to get pregnant and carry it if they do.” Harry chuckles. “Isaac even offered up his sperm.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.” You giggle.

You and Harry go grocery shopping quickly before getting to the house he rented.

“Oh my god.” You gasp as he pulls up.

“The boat’s already at the dock out back too. Got my license online and everything. We’ll be able to go out and enjoy a few rides.”

“Oh, I can’t wait, babe.” You get everything into the house and go outside. “Wow, this is really private.”

“Mhm, we can screw out here and no one would know.”

“Oh, stop it.” You swat a hand at him. You walk down further and feel the sand between your toes. “I can’t wait to swim. The boat is perfect too, honey, well done.”

“Wanna explore the inside?”

“Definitely.”

You both go back in. It was a simple ranch style home, but it was beautiful. The master bedroom was ginormous and it had a giant en suite. The kitchen was open concept and flowed naturally into a living and eating area. There was a nice patio out back as well.

“It’s perfect, Harry. Thank you.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “So…I spoke with Dr. Mara a few weeks ago, and I didn’t say anything to you, but I switched medications.”

“You did?” He steps back from you. “Seems like an odd thing not to tell me, Y/N.”

“I know, we just had a lot going on. I…wanted to be able to have alcohol for this part of our honeymoon. It was really hard not to get anything in Disney, especially while you were trying a bunch of stuff, but I was afraid of going overboard too soon. I want us to be able to be romantic and have wine and just really enjoy this part of things. Anyways, the new medication I’m on allows me to have alcohol in small amounts.”

“So that’s why you were so adamant about getting wine at the store.” He says in understanding.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to see how my mood changed and all that.”

“I literally didn’t notice a difference.”

“I know! So it’s doing its job.”

You both were feeling a bit nervous since you wanted this all to be special.

“Okay, what do you say we put our suits on, and head to the boat. We can bring some of the snacks we just bought and just have some fun on the water.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” You smile.

You put on a cute light blue two piece, and Harry had his yellow trunks. You pack up some snacks and water. You both lather each other with sunscreen, and go down to the boat. Harry uses a map so he knows where he can go. There was a sandbar that the owners of the house told him about.

“There! Where the other boats are parked.” You point out to him. “How do you even know how to do drive this thing?”

“I’ve driven a boat before.” He scoffs. “Have you met me? I’m good at everything anyways.”

You roll your eyes and nudge him. He parks the boat and throws the anchor. You open the bag of baby carrots and pop a couple into your mouth.

“Should we swim? It’s fuckin’ hot out.”

“You’re just full of great ideas today.”

You both get in the water and swim around. You splash and giggle and just have a great time. You both sit out and get some sun as well. Eventually, you go back to the house and Harry grills some veggie burgers for the two of you. As the sun sets, you both change into some warmer clothes, and he gets a fire started in the pit. He grabs some sticks and you get some marshmallows.

“What do you say, want some wine?” You ask.

“Mhm, if you do.”

“I do…I should probably stick to one glass so I don’t get fucked up.” You laugh.

You sit together outside and roast your marshmallows. You clink your glasses and enjoy the sweet red wine.

“Mm, I forgot how good wine tasted.” You giggle.

Harry’s arm was around you. He set his glass on the ground, and tilts your chin up to look at him. He presses his lips to yours and swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. He pulls away and smiles.

“I agree, very sweet.” He leans back and kisses you again. “Is it helpin’ yeh relax at all? I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“It’s helping, yeah. I know there’s no pressure, I’ll either come back pregnant or I won’t. It could stake a few tries, and that’s fine. This is all just so romantic, I want it so badly.”

“Me too, and when it’s meant to it will.” He assures you.

You both finish your glasses, and it definitely hit you. Your tolerance had gotten really low. You both clean everything up and head inside.

“That was a nice fire.” You wrap your arms around his neck and his go around your waist.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You get on your tip toes and kiss him.

He walks you into the bedroom and you both fall onto the bed. He gets you far back so your head can rest on the soft pillows.

“You looked so sexy in your swim suit today.” He kisses on your neck and you giggle. “I wanted to take it off with my teeth.”

“Aw, why didn’t you?” You pout. “Tomorrow I’ll put it on just so you can take it off that exact way.” He grinds his hips down against yours and you groan. “Knew you’d like that.”

“I’d love it.” He growls as his hands slide up under your shirt. Your hips buck up towards his. “Tell me what you want, angel.” His eyes were locked on yours now.

“I want to make a baby with you.” You say just above a whisper.

“Fuck.” He says under his breath.

He lifts your shirt off you and practically rips your bra away. He pulls his own shirt off and attaches his lips to your right nipple. Your hand tugs at his hair as he sucks on you. His other hand kneads your left breast. He moves to start kissing down your body, sucking wherever he pleases, leaving behind all of the marks he wants. Your body felt hot all over with every touch he left behind. He tugs your shorts and underwear off, and he licks his lips as you open your legs for him.

“We’re gonna take our time, okay? We have nowhere to be, so we’re in no rush.” He says, planting kissing on your inner thigh.

“Okay. I want this to be really good for both of us, it’s not just about me.”

“Tonight it is, but we have three more nights here after tonight, don’t you worry.”

You gasp when you feel his tongue lick through your folds and up to your clit. He does this a few times just enjoying the way you taste. His hands spread you further apart as he swirls his tongue around your clit. Your hands grip at the roots of his curls. He works two fingers inside you slowly, and it makes your head spin. He was really feeling around, he knew the territory well, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still occasionally explore. Plus, he knew you liked the way his fingers would stretch you out.

He nibbles and sucks on your clit as his fingers curl up against that spongey spot. You grind against him and let out soft whimpers. He was giving you exactly what you needed. He knew you were under a lot of pressure. Erica had been trying to get pregnant ever since her wedding, and she had a lot of trouble. She was only three and a half years older than you, and you weren’t sure if you’d run into the same issues.

“Oh fuck, oh my god, shit.” You were panting as his fingers picked up the pace. “Harry, oh my god!” Your head rolls back further into the pillow as you release onto his fingers. He retracts them slowly and sucks them into his mouth. “Get your pants off, now.”

He smirks and gets the rest of his clothes off. He hovers over you as you grip him in your hand. You drag his tip against your clit and folds, almost teasing yourself.

“God, I can’t wait to really feel you again, it’s been way too long.”

“I can’t wait to feel your come inside me again.” You line him up with you and he slowly starts to push in.

You both moan out once he’s all the way in. You clench around him, never wanting him to leave.

“If you do that m’not gonna be able to last long.”

“I’m sorry, you just feel incredible already.”

He smooths your hair away from your forehead and kisses it. He kisses your nose next, and then slots his mouth over yours as he rocks in and out of you. You wrap your legs around his waist and drag your nails down his back as his tongue molds to yours.

You were both sweating even with the A.C. on. It was pooling between your stomachs, but neither of you cared. You both were so caught up in just feeling good. He hooks an arm under one of your legs and drive in a little deeper. It hits just the right spot, and your nails sink into his ass.

“Right there, Harry, fuck.”

He sponges kisses to your neck and bites down on you. You lose it at that and he feels you come around his cock. He drops your leg and pulls out. He grabs your hips and flips you over. He spreads you apart with his thumbs and slides back in. One of his hands grips the back of your neck while the other presses into your hip. You loved this part. Sometimes harry would start out so sweet, make sure you came a couple of times, and then he’d get a little rough.

“How’s this?” He grunts.

“So good, so fucking good, rail me babe.”

He thrusts in and out of you faster and faster, but then he slows down. He pulls out of you again and flips you back on your back.

“What’s wrong?” You out.

“Nothing.” He slides back in. “I just wanna be able to see your face, that’s all.”

You smile at each other as he thrusts in and out of you again. His tip brushes against your g-spot so you grip onto his biceps to relieve some of the pressure building. You groan when you feel his muscles flex.

“Harry, please, I want you to come.”

“You do?” He grunts.

“Yes, please, I want us to come at the same time.”

He strokes your cheek and leans down to give you a kiss as his movements get sloppier. You can’t hold on much longer, but it doesn’t matter because the second you feel his warm come paint your walls, you release again. He moans your name as he continues to fill you up. You clench around him while he slowly pulls out so you don’t lose a single drop.

“You might wanna sit with your legs up for a few minutes, angel.”

You clamp your thighs together the second he’s out. He helps you shift and turn around so you can rest your legs up against the headboard. He sits next to you and looks down at your flushed face.

“How long do you think I should stay like this?” You giggle.

“Don’t know.” He shrugs. “Five minutes maybe?” You reach your hand out and rest it on his thigh.

“That was really nice. I feel like we haven’t been close like that in a long time.”

“I know.” He rests his hand on yours. “Things got really hectic, huh?”

“Mhm.”

You both slept really well that night. The next morning, Harry fucked you in the shower, and then again while you were trying to make breakfast. You had promised him he could take your swim suit off with his teeth, after all. You both enjoyed the sun and sand on your little private beach.

“I’m gonna dip my feet in the water.” You tell him and he hums his response, not looking up from his book.

Harry stretches and sets his book down. He tips his sunglasses down his nose to properly watch you strut down to the water. As you walk back you notice him looking at you. He makes a “come here” motion with his index finger. You giggle and go over to him, straddling him in the long beach chair.

“You’re hard.” You say into his neck.

“Mhm, can’t help it. My wife is just so sexy.” He grips your hips tightly.

“I could say the same about my husband.”

He reaches between the two of you and moves your bathing suit bottom to the side to rub your slit. His fingers easily slip inside you and you bite down on his neck.

“Can I fuck you our here?” He grumbles as his fingers work your insides.

“Yes.” You breathe.

Your hands roam down his stomach to the top of his swim suit. You pull out his hard cock and line it up with your center. He takes his fingers out of you so you can slip him in. It was the middle day, you two were out in broad daylight, and you were fucking in the open air. Normally you wouldn’t do something like this, but you really did have a lot of privacy.

He rocks you up and down on his cock. You prayed the chair underneath you wouldn’t break. He gets a little frustrated, so he picks you up and lays you on the towel you had laid out between your chairs. You giggle as he puts your legs over his shoulders.

“Tell me this isn’t more comfortable?”

“It is, you’re just cute.”

“Can’t get enough of yeh.”

He sucks on your neck in multiple spots, really making a mess of you. Your bathing suit top loosens from the way your breasts are bouncing up and down and he nearly comes at the sight. He grabs the front of it and rips it away. He dips his head down as he drops your legs to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You rub your clit as he does all of this and you start moaning out a little louder. He loved when you both would work together like this. He comes inside you just as you release.

After Harry goes inside to grab some waters, he sees you still laying on your back, spraying some sunscreen on your chest.

“What are you doin’?” He chuckles, handing you a water.

“When do I ever get the chance to just openly tan my entire chest? I’m taking advantage of the privacy.”

That night for dinner, you pack up some sandwiches, and harry takes you for a boat ride. You end up giving him a much deserved blow job. The rest of your trip was just sort of like this. The two of you making love any time you felt like it. There was one day you didn’t even really leave the bedroom, you could barely walk by the time you needed to meet your Nannie for breakfast before you caught your plane home. Needless to say, Harry wore you out in hopes of getting you pregnant, and you didn’t mind one bit.

Isaac and Seth had dropped Buster off before you got home so he’d be there waiting for you. You drop to your knees and let him lick your face when you see him.

“My baby! Mummy missed you soooo much!” Harry joins you on the floor with him and hugs him. “Daddy did too.”

“Should we, uh, buy some tests tomorrow?” He asks, petting his boy.

“Yeah, we could. I don’t know how soon you can tell though. We might have to wait a couple of weeks.”

“True, might not be a bad idea to just stock up on ‘em.”

“I’ll go to the drug store tomorrow after work.”

“Ugh, work.” He gets up and helps you to your feet. “Not lookin’ forward to that.”

“Me neither.” You sigh.

“Well, I shouldn’t say that, I just wish we could stay like this.”

“I know what you mean. If I could relive the last two weeks over and over, I would.” You walk over to the living room and gasp when you see the photo album sitting on the coffee table. “Harry, look!” You squeal.

You both sit down and snuggle up with the album. You both get glossy eyed when you look over everything. Mariah did an incredible job, not that either of you were worried.

“Your dress really was stunning, baby.”

“So was your suit.”

You look at each other. It didn’t take long until you were both naked and fucking on the couch.

“Look at how beautiful the castle was at night.” You were showing Niall a ton of your photos.

“The lights look incredible. Sarah’s been talkin’ about going now, I think you put a bug in her ear.” He chuckles.

“You two should definitely go! She loves the princesses and all that.”

“Believe me, I know. We were thinkin’ of going at the end of this summer.”

“Oh?!” You smile.

“Yeah, I, uh…well…” He takes his phone out and shows you a picture of a ring and you gasp. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Oh my god, she’s going to love it!” You hug him. “And she’d love a Disney proposal, are you kidding me?”

“She won’t think it’s cheesy?”

“No! She’ll die, oh my goodness.” You hug him again. “This is wild, we’re all so adult.”

“Well, I figured if we’re gonna buy a house together, I might as well put a ring on it before her dad kills me.” He jokes.

“What towns have you guys been looking in?”

“Right now, just the Milton area. We don’t wanna be too far from the city since I don’t plan on lookin’ for a new job any time soon.”

“It’ll be weird not having you across the street, but I understand wanting a home.”

“Do you think you and Harry will start lookin’ for a house?”

“Not anytime soon. We like living in the city.” You shrug.

“What about when you start havin’ kids?”

“Our apartment can handle a child. If we have more, which we probably will, then I’m sure we’ll need to move. But for now we can stay where we are. I’m kind of nervous. Erica’s been having trouble getting pregnant, and…”

“Hey.” He puts his hand on your shoulder. “It’ll happen when it happens, okay?” He smiles reassuringly.

When your period came, Harry seemed more upset than you.

“I guess I just don’t understand how it all works.” He sighs.

“We knew this could happen, we’ll just have to try again when I’m ovulating next.” You give his hand a squeeze and smile. “We need to try not to think about it as much. A lot of people conceive when they’re least expecting it.”

“I know, you’re right.” He kisses your cheek. “We’ll get there.”

Two more months had gone by, and you still hadn’t gotten pregnant. Harry was getting ready to take you away for your birthday. Just a simple weekend at a spa to relax. Your summer had gotten sort of stressful. You had gotten hired as a TL at your old college to teach a class online for the summer. It was going really well, and the class was just about over. Your passion for teaching students about media was growing stronger.

This meant, though, many of your nights had been long. You would often stay in your office after hours to get some grading and other work done. Harry hated it, of course. The stress couldn’t have been helping. It was nearly 7PM, and the office was empty. You just needed to get through some emails from your students and then you could go home to start your much needed long weekend for your twenty-seventh birthday.

There was a knock on the outside of your door. It was Harry with a bouquet of flowers. You look up and smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought we could go to dinner. Dropped Buster off with Niall and Sarah.”

“God, I’m gonna miss them when they’re not right across the street.” You frown. “But I’m happy their offer got accepted.”

“Me too. And what great timing that they’re headed to Disney soon too. They can relax from all the stress they’ve been under. I’m glad they’ve gone through it first, to be honest.” He closes the door behind him and locks it.

“No one’s here, you could’ve left that open.”

“Eh, force of habit.” He shrugs.

You stand up to give him a hug. He looks you up and down. You had a red, short sleeve blouse on paired with a black pencil skirt.

“These flowers are beautiful, thank you.”

“Happy almost birthday, my love.” He cups your cheek with one hand and kisses you.

“I just need to finish up some emails and then we can go.”

You sit back down and he comes around to stand behind you. He starts rubbing your shoulders just as you begin typing. Your fingers stop and your eyes flutter closed. Harry would always be your favorite masseuse.

“You look good enough to eat, you know that right?” He whispers in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine.

You send your last email and turn your monitor off. He spins you around in your chair so you’re facing him. You look up at him through your lashes. For years you had told Harry you’d never have sex in your office. But you were ovulating and extremely turned on.

“So why not have your appetizer here then?”

His eyebrows shoot up. He was expecting you to say no or to tell him anything other than what you just said. His hands drag up from your knees to your thighs, bunching up your skirt to your hips. He grips your panties and takes them off of you. He drops to his knees and puts your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to the edge of your seat. His tongue was on you in seconds, but he takes it away just as quickly. He nips at your inner thigh, sucking a very dark mark into your skin.

“Fuck.” You breathe as he does it to the other one.

He licks into you again, getting a very good taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit and sucks on you.

“Harry.” Your head rolls back, and the chair nearly tips over, but he steadies it.

One of his hands reaches up to grip your throat, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you come on his tongue. He stands up and undoes his pants. He licks his lips when he looks at you, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do to you first.

“Take me on the floor, please.” You beg him.

“Get on your back then.”

You stand up and lay on the ground. Harry chuckles as he gets on the ground over you.

“What?”

“Thought you would’ve wanted me to bend you over the desk.”

“No, I want it like this.” His lips ghost over yours.

You gasp as he enters you, and his tongue goes into your mouth. Yours molds to his and he swallows your groans. He carefully unbuttons your blouse so he can cup your breasts over your bra. He was ramming into you, and it felt incredible.

“Oh my god, Harry.” Your back arches slightly. Something about doing it in your office after saying no for so long was really doing something for you. “Holy shit!” You scream as he rubs on your clit. “Don’t stop.” You groan.

“Baby.” He moans. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.”

You wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to you. You knew your back was going to hurt tomorrow, but you didn’t care. He takes his other hand to grab yours, intertwining your fingers. He pins it next to your head. You use your free hand to grip his throat. You were thankful there was A/C in your office, or the two of you would be drenched in even more sweat than you were.

You tighten around him as you come to another release. He squeezes your hand as he comes inside you. Your grip loosens around his throat as you both catch your breaths. He sticks a finger inside you so nothing slips out, and then he grabs your underwear to slide up your legs.

“Hope you won’t be too uncomfortable at dinner.” He says as he helps you up.

“I’ll be fine.” You smile and kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

At the end of the month, on their trip in Disney, Niall proposed to Sarah, and she happily accepted. You couldn’t wait to celebrate with them when they got back. The class you taught got amazing reviews in the course evaluations. You were asked to come in for a meeting with the head of the Communication Department.

“Y/N!” Dr. Harrison calls you into her office. You knew her very well. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” You shake her hand and have a seat. “Weird, last time I sat in this seat I was asking you about internships.” You laugh.

“Funny how things come full circle sometimes.” She smiles. “We were very impressed with how well your class went. We haven’t had students do so well with TL like this in a while. A lot of students who take summer courses take them to improve their GPA’s.”

“So I noticed. I had them send me intro videos for their first assignments, and a lot of them said they were grateful my class was being taught.”

“One of our faculty members is heading to another institution next semester. So she’ll only be here for the fall term. We have to start figuring out spring semester courses later this month. She teaches a lot of the film and media courses.” You nod. “You have your MEd, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re going to be searching for a new teaching position soon. I’ve been speaking with the other faculty, you were such a rock star of a student, and we were wondering if you’d consider applying once we open it.”

“What?” You were in shock.

“I know that’s a lot to ask, obviously, you seem to really like your job. You’re good at what you do, but you also seem to be a great teacher. We’d like you to teach more of our students.”

“I…I don’t know…see, my husband and I are trying to start a family, and my work has amazing maternity leave options and benefits. I mean, I could be pregnant now, and if I was that would mean I’d literally just make it to the end of the spring semester, and then I’d be on maternity all summer, and I know being a junior faculty means a lot of-“

“Y/N slow down.” She chuckles.

“It’s just, I essentially get six months off for maternity at my work…”

“I could get you some information about our union benefits. We have nine month contracts and twelve month contracts. Lots of different options. I don’t have kids of my own, but I have to say our insurance benefits are really great. You don’t have to decide anything right now, just know we’d love to have you. We’re going to open the position up at the end of September. At least consider applying, alright?”

On your way home from the meeting you had to pull over on the side of the road to throw up. You had taken the afternoon off from work to go to this meeting, so you go right home. You throw up again the second you get inside, luckily you made it to the toilet.

“What the fuck?” You say to yourself, and then it dawns on you. You get your phone and call Harry. You promised him any time you took a test that you needed to be together.

“Hey baby, how’d the meeting go?”

“Can you come home?”

“Um…uh…I have a client coming soon, why?”

“I’ve been throwing up all afternoon…I think I should take a test.”

“Oh! This shouldn’t take long, could you wait until I get home?”

“Harry.” You groan.

“Okay, take it, but don’t look at the results until I get home, please.”

“Alright.”

You go into the bathroom and take a pregnancy test. You had been trying for five months now, and you hadn’t had a symptom like this yet. You stick the test on the counter in the bathroom and go out to the living room. You had so many things to think over. Teaching had just become a new passion of yours, but was this opportunity worth disrupting everything right now?

You sit down and look over the union information Dr. Harrison gave you. You pull up your benefits package from work on your laptop and try to compare the two. The university, believe it or not, actually had better insurance policies. Being protected by a union would also be nice. This was the shitty part about working for a good business. You felt guilty for wanting something new. You were so grateful for everything, but you did the same thing every single day, and it just wasn’t giving you the same fulfillment it used to. You had been there since you were twenty-one, fresh out of college. You were twenty-seven now, maybe something new would be good. Besides that, you knew Niall had one foot out the door. Sarah had gotten a position at a nice prep-school, and he was looking at some other companies closer to their new house. He needed to be able to move up, and there were no positions opening up any time soon. He had been at Mark It even longer than you. A lot was changing all at once.

You take a deep breath and tell yourself you’ll talk things over with Harry later. A couple of hours later, Harry bursts through the door with Buster. You stand up immediately and walk with him hand in hand to the bathroom. You both look at the test sitting there and take a deep as you walk up to it. Both of your eyes widen when you look at it.

#harry styles #.harry styles imagine #my everything #take it slow sequel #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #fluff #smut #hope yall liked the honey moon!#pls tag if you reblog #come hang out in my ask box too!!

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

Written for @lesbianbirds for the @tma-valentines-exchange 2021!

Words: 8.5k Relationships: Melanie King/Georgie Barker, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood Tags: AU - Cat Café, Fluff, No Fear Entities, Established Jmart, Getting Together WTGFs, First Kiss, First Date, Mutual Pining, He/They Pronouns for Jon

Summary:

From the first moment Melanie King from Ghost Hunt UK walks into Georgie’s café, Georgie is utterly smitten.

|| Ao3 ||

The coffee pot is empty. Again.

With a long, drawn-out groan, Melanie opens the cabinet above the kitchenette sink and pulls out the container of unbearably cheap coffee that Martin had picked out last month when he’d restocked the cabinets.

(“Melanie, I don’t drink coffee, how am I supposed to know what is and isn’t ‘a good brand’?” Martin had said, sounding affronted and snappish in that way he always gets when his beverage-purchasing decisions are questioned—though that typically only applies to tea.

“Martin,” Melanie said, trying to keep her voice calm and neutral despite forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “If it’s less than five pounds, it’s not good coffee.”)

Soon, she’s got a pot brewing. The smell of it is almost enough to drag her out of the mid-morning fog that’s got her eyes unfocusing on the screen, making her see things in the footage that aren’t there. Some people would say that none of the things they point to in their videos as proof of the supernatural are real, and while it’s true that artistic license is a good portion of the job, their footage is not tampered with. Ever. She just sometimes has to look at it for hours to find what she’s searching for.

Thus, coffee.

It warms her from the inside out as she sits back at her desk and begins to click through the footage, despite the acrid, sooty film it leaves on her tongue that has her grimacing. She almost doesn’t notice that she’s emptied her mug until she picks it up to take a sip and finds it absent of liquid.

She’s debating the pros and cons of having another cup less than an hour after the first when Martin’s voice drifts over from the doorway, sounding amused. “I thought you said you didn’t like that coffee?”

Melanie sets the mug down on the corner of her desk with a clink and says, “Yes, well, we do what we have to to survive around here, Martin. Even if it is suffering through some terrible coffee.”

When she turns to look at Martin, there’s a small smile on his face that one might call a smirk if they knew him well. “Think you could put that suffering on hold?” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “Jon’s café opened today, and I was planning on stopping by for lunch. They’ve got an espresso machine?”

Melanie’s nose wrinkles before she can help herself. “Ugh, sorry,” she says, waving a hand at Martin as if that can alleviate the small furrow that’s appeared in his brow. “It’s just—the first and only time I’ve ever seen your partner, they spent most of their time lecturing me on the inaccuracies of my show! Our show, Martin! While we were out recording something! On tape!” To herself, she mutters, “Part of me wants to release them as bloopers just to see what happens. ‘Ghost Hunt UK: Selfish Prick Edition.’”

“They did say they were sorry,” Martin says, sounding apologetic. “And- well, I mean, to be fair, a lot of the things they pointed out actually were facts we’d gotten wrong in the research, so…”

Melanie gives him a look that could cut through bone. “It still shouldn’t give them the right to just say whatever they—”

She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. She’s already had this discussion with Martin at length; it doesn’t bear repeating. Her therapist, at least, has been trying to get her to stop dwelling on past angers. “Fine,” she says, hoping that her words don’t sound too forced. “Can you just- can you promise me this won’t turn into another attack on our legitimacy? Please?”

Martin’s smile is relief and delight in equal measure. “I promise,” he says in a way that from anyone else would seem empty but coming from Martin is binding and true. “They’ll behave.” He laughs lightly and continues, “Though they did just do this deep dive on London subterranean tunnels—checked out nearly every book in the library and everything. Maybe you could talk about the Millbank Prison tunnels we’re planning on exploring next week? Might be fun, to debate facts off-camera.”

“Sure,” Melanie says, entirely unconvinced. “That won’t go poorly at all.” Before Martin can respond, she pushes back from her desk with a small sigh and says, “All right, then. For you, Martin, I will visit Jon’s- what was it, a cat café?”

“And a bookstore!” Martin says cheerily, his cheeks flushing a light pink.

“Right,” Melanie says, suppressing another sigh. She does like cats, after all. And espresso. She could certainly use some right now. “I suppose we’re taking our lunch break now, then?”

“If you’re free.”

“Well, given that I’m my own boss, I can safely say that I am.”

Melanie slips on her coat and follows Martin out of her office and out of the building, leaving her empty coffee-stained mug balanced on the edge of her desk.

In retrospect, not setting up a gate to keep the cats out of the food preparation area was probably a bad idea. Georgie sighs and swipes the three muffins with bite marks in the sides of them into the bin, resolving to stop by the shop that night to pick up the requisite supplies to keep the fluffy, bread-loving felines she’d so dearly and painstakingly selected from the shelter from ravishing the food they were meant to be serving to the customers.

“That would be the Chairman,” Jon says, reaching around Georgie to slide the glass cover over the remaining muffins. “He can be quite clever when he puts his mind to it.”

“Hm, but not when he’s meant to be keeping out the pests, I suppose,” Georgie says with lips curled into a smile almost against her will. The cat in question is sat on the windowsill, carefully grooming his rich black fur in full view of passersby and the few customers sitting at the tables. It’s still early, Georgie tells herself, and they’re new—not a lot of built-up rapport yet. Give it time.

She’s never been known for her patience.

Jon’s just handed off a steaming mug of tea to a customer—oolong, she thinks—when he turns to her with eyes alight, like he’s just recalled something, and says, “I’m not sure if I told you, but Martin’s stopping by today. Have- have you met him yet?”

With careful neutrality, Georgie says, “I have.”

Jon seems to take that at face value, his face relaxing into a light smile as he busies himself with another cup of tea and says, “Well, he told me he’d stop by around lunch today, just to say hello and to see how the café is coming along. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you again.”

Georgie’s… not quite so sure about that. The first and only time she’s ever seen Martin was when she, he, and Jon had gone out for drinks one night, about two weeks after Jon had started dating him. Martin had sipped his tonic, pressed himself closely against Jon’s side, and spent the entire night not-quite-so-subtly staring daggers at her every time she laughed at something Jon said or reached out to lightly squeeze his hand. She’s never found jealousy a particularly good look on a person. (Particularly when it’s completely unwarranted; she and Jon broke up years ago, before he’d even left uni, and the thought of her being some sort of romantic competition is honestly a bit laughable.)

And so maybe she’d never made an effort to reach out again, deciding that one awkward night of drinks was enough for her. Martin had certainly never made such an effort in return.

“Sure,” is all Georgie says before turning back to the muffins.

They take a few more orders, make a few more drinks, and chase the Chairman away from the muffins more than a few times. Jon tries to tell Georgie that they’re supposed to be putting three pumps of vanilla in their lattes, which is ridiculous—it’s always been two pumps, it’s not Georgie’s fault that Jon has a secret sweet tooth. The disagreement is teetering just on the line between bickering and fighting when the little bell above the door clangs. Georgie’s eyes automatically follow the sound.

The first person she sees is Martin, black-and-white scarf wrapped up to his chin and cheeks flushed a rosy red from the cold. His face splits into a wide, cheery grin as he spots Jon, and out of the corner of her eye, Georgie sees Jon soften. She recognizes the expression on his face from when they dated in uni; it’s the same as the one that would surface when the Admiral would jump on his lap or when Georgie would bring him tea or when he would spot her across the quad in between classes.

Being in love is a good look on Jonathan Sims, Georgie thinks absently, and not without fondness.

Then, Georgie’s eyes alight on a second figure, following Martin in through the doorway. Her coat is zipped all the way up to her chin, long black hair twisted up into two tight topknots messy enough that they appear to be born more out of convenience than out of fashion. She’s almost as tall as Martin, nearly as skinny as Jon, and Georgie thinks she sees a glint of metal on the side of her nose, on the shell of her ear. Her mouth is tilted into a frown but her eyes are curious as they wander about the café, landing first on the cats, then on the bookshelves lining the walls, and then on the coffee grinders and stainless steel water heaters behind the counter.

Her eyes find Georgie. And Georgie realizes with a start that she recognizes her.

“Jon,” Georgie says, but Jon’s already gone, stepping around the counter with a mug in their hand and an infatuated grin on their face directed entirely toward Martin—and maybe a bit toward the cat that’s decided to make its home in Martin’s arms. So Georgie follows him, brushing past the orange-furred Minister as she does so and trying not to sneak too many surreptitious glances at the woman she’s seen hundreds of times on her laptop screen, framed in neon greens and black-and-whites and sepia tones.

She clearly doesn’t succeed, from the way that Martin follows her gaze to the woman before saying abruptly, “Oh! Right, sorry—forgot. Er, Melanie, this- this is Georgie. Jon’s friend!”

Melanie—Melanie King of Ghost Hunt UK, standing here in the middle of her cat-café-slash-bookstore—regards Georgie with a look she can’t quite place. Then, Melanie holds out a hand. Her fingernails are painted a glittering green, Georgie thinks, then realizes she’s been staring at the hand altogether too long and reaches out to shake it.

“Right, Georgie. Georgie Barker. It’s… it’s nice to meet you.”

Huh. Her hand is softer than it looks on camera.

Before Georgie has time to unpack that thought, Melanie gives her that look again, and Georgie realizes that it’s scrutiny, with a bit of curiosity behind it. “Huh,” Melanie says, like Georgie’s just given her a puzzle to solve, a mystery to unravel. “You sound familiar.”

“Maybe I’ve just got one of those voices,” Georgie says with a disarming smile. She’s still holding onto Melanie’s hand. That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?

She lets go, though that doesn’t help the fluttering in the pit of her stomach. The butterflies climb up her throat, loosening her tongue, and she says without thinking, “Or maybe you’ve heard my podcast? What The Ghost? It- it runs every other Saturday.”

Melanie’s eyes grow just a bit wider then. “No,” she says disbelievingly. “Georgie? Martin, your partner’s best friend is What the Ghost? Georgie?”

Martin’s eyebrows dip into a frown. “Er… yes? Sorry, I- I suppose I never really mentioned it, did I? Sort of… assumed you already knew. Small ghost hunting world and all.”

Melanie looks at Georgie with a sharp, delighted glitter in her eyes. “Huh. Jonathan Sims’ ex is Georgie Barker from What the Ghost?. Who also owns a cat café. Stranger things, I suppose.”

“Slash bookstore,” Georgie says with a smile. “And besides, Jonathan never told me that Martin’s Melanie was Melanie King!”

“Oh, they talk about me?” Melanie says with a smirk.

“Only when absolutely necessary,” Jon says sullenly. Their grimace contrasts quite starkly with the trio of grey kittens they have cradled in their arms. One is valiantly trying to climb up into their hair. “Besides, I thought it was obvious. Martin does sound for Ghost Hunt UK, he has a coworker named Melanie, therefore Melanie is Melanie King of Ghost Hunt UK. It’s really not that much of a leap, Georgina.”

Georgie swats at Jon’s arm. “You never said she was a coworker! Jonathan Sims, this entire time you had a connection to Melanie King and you never said anything?”

Jon directs their sullen look at Melanie. “I wouldn’t say… connection, per se.”

“We’ve only met once, and they spent the entire time criticizing my setup and my story,” Melanie says, arms crossed and chin jutting out defensively, not dissimilar to a cat with its hackles raised.

“If that’s what you call fixing your facts, then fine,” Jon says with equal posturing, their mouth set into a firm line. “I admit that I should have waited until after we had left the shoot, but I will not apologize for correcting obvious mistakes!”

Melanie’s mouth opens, retort ready on her lips, when Martin says quickly, “Jon, why don’t you show me that book you were talking about? The, er, the one about the overlap between sea monster myths and geographical phenomena? I think you told me about the Scylla and Charybdis one last night, but I can’t quite remember what event you said it correlated with? A tsunami, maybe?”

Jon’s mouth opens, then snaps shut. They rub an absentminded thumb over the head of one of the kittens, chew on their bottom lip, and then say, “A hurricane, actually, which caused tsunami-like effects when it—here, I’ll just find the book for you. I think it’s in the back room.”

“That would be lovely,” Martin says, giving Georgie a wide—and not-too-subtly apologetic—grin before following Jon past the counter and into the smaller secondary part of the café meant only for books, the Minister trailing closely behind.

Melanie’s forehead is still set in a frown, but it softens a bit as she looks at Georgie and says, “Er. Sorry about that. Not my best first impression, arguing with someone else’s best friend in front of them.” Her lips curl into a smile, sharp and teasing yet warming Georgie to her core. “Maybe I can buy you a coffee to make it up to you?”

Georgie doesn’t really drink coffee, much preferring a strong green tea; the caffeine gives her headaches, and she’s always found it too bitter for her liking.

“That sounds lovely,” Georgie says. Then, with a teasing smile of her own, she slips back behind the counter and adopts her most put-upon customer service voice. “What can I get started for you?”

The next two months are… well, they’re really quite lovely. The café picks up after the first few days (which may or may not result from Georgie shameless plugging it on that week’s episode of What the Ghost?), all future muffins are saved from devastation by the cheap plastic gate Georgie picks up from the shop, and every day Jon talks her ear off about whatever book he’s last consumed.

When he’s not talking Martin’s ear off about it, that is. Because Martin stops by the café nearly every day, to the point where Georgie’s sure his bank account must be suffering from how many pounds he’s shelled out on coffee and sandwiches (which, as they’re set at Chelsea prices, are not cheap). He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He sits at the corner table, the one that lights up wonderfully in the noonday sun, with the Baroness sat upon his lap—a slim calico with a notch in one ear who’s taken a liking to Martin. Jon sits at the table across from him, both of them wearing those silly little infatuated smiles on their faces as they talk that Georgie is surprised haven’t faded even after nearly six months.

Maybe she should make more of an effort to get to know Martin. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw Jon quite so… peaceful.

And then, of course, there’s Melanie. Who accompanies Martin to the café sometimes, more and more as the weeks stretch on until it’s almost every day that Georgie gets to admire the sharp slant of her nose and the way that she smiles, like she’s just heard a joke and finds it very funny indeed. Georgie ends up hiring extra staff—Tim and Sasha, who interviewed together (which was strange) but who connected so well with Jon that she thought it a shame not to hire them both—and so she can take a few minutes off when Melanie stops by to talk. They talk about what places they’re planning on investigating and their most ridiculous episodes and the kinds of messages they’ve gotten from fans (ranging from flattery to outright hate mail). They talk about their favorite kinds of pastries and where they prefer to spend their Friday nights and their records for the number of drinks consumed in a single sitting (which Melanie wins by a large margin). They talk about their university years and their friends (because Jon’s really quite lovely once you get to know him, Georgie says, and What do you mean you don’t like Martin? What’s not to like? Melanie says) and their favorite childhood memories.

“My dad’s allergic to cats,” Melanie says one day, her fingers buried deep in the Chairman’s fur as she talks. “I always wanted one when I was growing up, got proper annoying about it for a while before he finally told me that it just wasn’t going to happen. We got a dog instead—Dandelion, she- she was wonderful, really, an old dog from a shelter—and then I moved away for uni, and the flat I’m in now isn’t pet-friendly, so…”

She makes a helpless gesture with her free hand. “This is nice, though,” she says and scratches the Chairman behind the ears. He makes a small, contented noise. “Shelter cats?”

“Yeah,” Georgie says, a hint of fondness slipping into her voice. “They’re all up for adoption, technically. We’ve only found homes for a few of them though, which if I’m being totally honest, I’m not too disappointed about.”

“They do grow on you,” Melanie says. The Chairman meows again, as if in assent.

“Mm,” Georgie says. Then, after a moment: “I’ve already got a cat at home, though, and he doesn’t take well to other cats. Tried once and it didn’t go well; had to have a friend take the new cat, felt right awful about it too.”

Melanie makes a sympathetic noise. Then, with a small smile on her face, she says, “What’s his name?”

“The Admiral.” At the look on Melanie’s face, Georgie laughs lightly and says, “Yes, yes, I know—I have a naming type. Jon’s already teased me more than enough for it—though I honestly think it’s rubbed off on him.” Her eyes light up, and she digs her phone out of her pocket. “Here, do you want to see a picture of him?”

She flips through the approximately two hundred photos of the Admiral on her phone before saying, nerves making her voice a bit too high, “I, er. I get off at five today. Do you… do you want to meet him? In person, that is.”

Melanie’s smile is like caffeine, sending her heart stuttering in her chest. “Do you even have to ask?”

So then Melanie’s in her flat, and she’s petting her cat, and she’s taking tea—black, just a bit of sugar—in the large yellow mug that Georgie likes, and she’s just so achingly beautiful that Georgie thinks she might die. Most of the time Melanie wears her hair up, in high ponytails or coiling braids or twin topknots, like the first time Georgie had seen her, stuck through with pencils or chopsticks or, on one memorable occasion, plastic forks.

(“Look,” Melanie had said, cheeks heating with embarrassment, “one of my chopsticks broke as soon as I got to work, and all we had were the forks. No, stop laughing at me—Georgina Barker, this is not funny!”)

But sometimes Melanie wears her hair down and Georgie realizes how long it is, brushing just above mid-back. It looks soft. Georgie finds herself wanting to run her fingers through it so badly that her hands twitch by her sides, but she doesn’t ask. She’s not that far gone yet.

It’s one night at Georgie’s flat, when Melanie’s got the Admiral on her lap and there’s a film going in the background that neither of them is paying any attention to, when Georgie realizes exactly how ‘far gone’ she really is. When Melanie says, haltingly, “So, you- you said you’d done a piece on the Black Lady of Bradley Woods, right?”

Georgie’s brow furrows as she thinks back. “A few seasons ago, I think.” She thinks she remembers Jon dragging up a history book for that one and lecturing her for a good hour and a half on the War of the Roses until she finally relented and changed the script to include a large section on it. “Why?”

“Oh, just- just wondering.” Melanie looks down at the Admiral; he gives a particularly contented purr and nuzzles into her hand, drawing a small smile to her face that Georgie immediately memorizes and files away for later. “I… I was thinking of doing a Ghost Hunt UK episode about it, actually?” she says, her cheeks coloring a light red. “And I thought—well, since you have some experience with the subject, maybe… maybe you would consider. Er. Guest-starring on the episode?”

Georgie’s mouth is suddenly very dry, her pulse quick as a hummingbird’s in her throat. Honestly, Georgina. It’s not like she’s asked you out on a date.

(Though Georgie would like that. She would like that very much.)

“Only if you’ll guest-star on What the Ghost?,” Georgie’s mouth says, entirely without her permission. But once it’s out there, Georgie finds that she really, really likes the idea of it. Them, tucked away in Georgie’s guest room that she’s converted into a studio, talking about ghosts and laughing and reading the horrible adverts she’s forced to incorporate—well. It sounds very lovely indeed.

“Oh, an ultimatum?” Melanie says, humored. Her smile is like wildfire, sending Georgie’s cheeks alight with flames that threaten to consume her utterly. “Well, then. I accept your terms, Georgie Barker. Perhaps you would like it in writing?”

“Oh, over a cup of tea would suffice,” Georgie says, and she knows that her face is nearly split in two by a grin and that she probably looks utterly ridiculous. But she can’t find it within herself to mind.

“I need your help.”

Jon nearly drops the stack of books they’re holding. The yelp they let out is quite undignified, and if asked, they will maintain that it never happened. (And since they’re in the back room of the café, there’s nobody around to hear it but the two of them.) “Jesus,” they say, shooting Melanie an irritated look softened by the shock still making their heart beat at a rapid-fire pace. Then, a bit petulantly: “Help with what? If I recall correctly, the last time I tried to help you, you decided you never wanted to speak to me again.”

“That wasn’t helping,” Melanie says through gritted teeth. “That was being condescending and rude in front of my coworkers.” She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and says, “But this isn’t about that. Believe me, I would much rather not be talking to you about this—”

“Great,” Jon says flatly. “I’m charmed.”

“—but,” Melanie continues, the look on her face dreadfully pained, “you’re Georgie’s best friend, so I really don’t have any other options.”

With no small amount of apprehension, Jon says, “Help with what, Melanie?”

Melanie’s expression is not unlike that of someone who’s just sat down in the dentist’s chair to get a tooth pulled. “What’s Georgie’s favorite food?”

Jon just stares. “What?” they say after a long moment of silence.

Melanie makes a frustrated noise. “Fuck, Jon, do you want me to spell it out for you? Should have known this was a waste of my time—”

“I don’t think Georgie has a favorite food,” Jon says quickly when the bite to Melanie’s voice grows sharp at the edges. “Maybe- maybe lángos?” At Melanie’s blank stare, they continue, “It’s, er. It’s deep-fried flatbread? She always orders it from the takeaway Hungarian place she likes—er, Miko’s Kitchen, I think?”

“Takeaway,” Melanie echoes. “Yeah, that’ll do.” After a beat, she says, begrudgingly, “Thanks.”

“Right,” Jon says, equally as begrudgingly. They’re not really sure they want to know, but—

“Why do you ask?”

The tips of Melanie’s cheeks go pink, and she says brusquely, “No reason.” She spins on her heel and makes to leave; then with her back to Jon, she pauses and says, “Do not say anything to Georgie.”

“What?” Jon says, confused. “Why?”

But Melanie’s already gone.

Jon stares at the books in their hands, then at the door that leads to the rest of the café. They see Melanie disappear through the front door, the bell jingling behind her.

“What?”

Georgie’s always liked routines. They provide structure to life that she finds comforting, and there’s enough room for variation within them that she doesn’t get bored. Wake up, get dressed, go to the café, come home, do some work on the next What the Ghost? episode, and go to bed, with room in between for other things, like watching that newest documentary on seals with Jon or waking early for a run.

Her new routine goes like this:

Around noon on most days, Martin and Melanie come into the café, sending the bell over the door jingling and approximately ten cats meowling insistently at their feet until Martin scratches beneath each of their chins in turn and Melanie collects some of the treats that Georgie keeps behind the counter in her hand and tries to pretend like she doesn’t like the way that the cats rub against her arms and hands when she kneels down to feed them. Martin orders a cup of tea—usually black with milk and a sugar, but sometimes it’s Earl Grey or gunpowder green—and Melanie gets an espresso drink that makes Georgie’s head ache just looking at it.

And as she hands the mug of tea to Martin, she’ll say, conversationally, “So, Martin, what kind of tea does Melanie like?”

Or: “Is Melanie more of a savory or a sweet kind of person?”

Or: “What’s Melanie’s favorite movie? Does she enjoy movies? What kinds of movies?”

Today, Georgie hands Martin his tea—black with milk and a sugar, the usual, nothing noteworthy or special about it—and says, casually, “What’s Melanie’s type?”

Martin nearly drops his mug. “Sorry, what?”

Georgie’s face begins to heat, but she barrels on. “You know—her type. Men, women, blonde, brunette—who she likes.”

Martin’s staring at Georgie like she’s got three heads. “Uh. I have no idea?” His cheeks are tinged with pink, and Georgie does feel a bit bad for making him uncomfortable, but the curiosity burning up inside her is a powerful thing. It keeps her mouth closed and her expression encouraging as Martin stutters out, “I- er, I think she- well, that is to say, I’m fairly certain that she- er, that she doesn’t… date men? At- at least that’s what it seems like!” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Last year, this chap—Greg, maybe? I don’t know—asked her out for dinner after one of our shoots. He was nice enough, you know—strong jawline, that kind of ‘swooshy’ hair, nice teeth—”

Martin’s face flushes a deeper red, and he cuts himself off. “Right, anyway. She said no, like it was obvious—not in, like, a mean way! Just like she was surprised by the offer. And when I asked her about it—” Martin shrugs. “She said he ‘wasn’t her type.’”

“I see,” Georgie says, keeping her tone carefully neutral and trying very hard to pretend like butterflies haven’t taken residence in her stomach. “Thank you, Martin, that’s very helpful. Enjoy your tea!”

“Wait,” Martin says, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Why did you want to—?”

“Ah, sorry, I- I’ve got another customer to deal with,” Georgie says quickly, deliberately ignoring the fact that the till is being sufficiently managed by Tim at the moment. “Great seeing you, Martin!”

Georgie thinks Martin might have said her name again, maybe even asked her a question. But she turns and retreats to the other end of the counter before she can hear it, brushing a curious Chairman away from the gate as she does so. And if her cheeks are as red as the heat in her face leads her to believe, at least Tim doesn’t mention it.

It’s after the seventh time that Melanie corners Jon in the back room of the café and grills him for details about Georgie that Jon finally gets it.

“Oh,” Jon says, apropos of nothing, sitting tucked into Martin’s side on the couch in his flat, the drama that Martin had wanted to watch playing softly in the background. “Melanie likes Georgie.”

Martin makes a sputtering, choking noise at that, something in between surprise and disbelief. “Okay?” he says, in that confused-yet-intrigued voice he gets when Jon changes the topic in a way that makes perfect, logical sense to him but that Martin can’t quite follow.

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, waving his hands in the air absently. “All of a sudden, Melanie wants to talk to me, but only about Georgie, and only when Georgie’s not around. And it’s all what’s Georgie’s favorite food? and does Georgie like parks or museums better? and what kinds of flowers does Georgie like?”

Martin sighs. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“And when I tried to tell her that just because Georgie and I dated, it doesn’t mean I know what kind of flowers she likes, she got this weird look on her face and just- just left.” Jon pinches the bridge of their nose between their fingers. “And then today, she asked me if Georgie likes women.”

Martin lets out a stifled laugh. “Just like that?”

Jon nods mutely. “I suppose it’s rather ridiculous it took that for me to figure it out.”

Martin laughs again. “Maybe. I didn’t realize that Georgie liked Melanie until she asked me what Melanie’s type is. Nearly dropped my tea.”

Wait. What?

Jon shifts so that they can get a good look at Martin’s face. “Georgie likes Melanie?”

Martin’s expression folds into confusion, then realization, then something softer. “Oh. Yeah, she- she does. Huh.”

Jon considers, very briefly, making a joke about terrible taste. The amount of restraint they exercise to keep it in is truly monumental. They’re sure that Martin can see it written all over their face, though, given the chastising look Martin gives them.

“Sorry,” Jon says, though technically they’ve done nothing that warrants an apology. Then: “So I suppose we ought to tell them, then?”

“What?” Martin’s looking at Jon like they’ve just suggested they microwave the water for their tea. “No, no, we should definitely not tell them.”

Jon frowns, shifting in place so that they can more fully face Martin. “Why not? If there’s mutual attraction, I don’t see any problem with helping to- to push it along a bit. Lord knows we could have used the help.”

“Jon,” Martin says, not unkindly. “If Georgie would have suggested that you ask me out, or even told you that I liked you, what would you have done?”

“I—” Jon stops, sucks in a breath. “All right, fine, I probably would have reacted poorly, or more likely just wouldn’t have believed her. But, as Georgie keeps telling me, our experiences are not universal.” They cross their arms over their chest with a sigh. “I just hate that trope, where the entire plot revolves around some- some misunderstanding or intentional obfuscation of information that keeps the love interests apart.”

“I know,” Martin says gently. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe they’d take it well. But I honestly don’t think it’ll come to that. Melanie and Georgie aren’t nearly as emotionally repressed as we were—”

“Hey!”

“—and besides, even if we don’t tell them outright, it doesn’t mean we can’t nudge a bit here and there.”

“Nudge,” Jon echoes.

Martin gives them a conspiratorial grin.

“Martin,” Jon says, trying to keep their smile under wraps and failing miserably. “You know how bad I am at subtly.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand in his and squeezes before pressing a soft kiss across their knuckles. He doesn’t say a word.

Jon loses the fight with his lips, and they curl upward against his will. “Fine, fine. No promises, though.”

Martin hums, giving Jon’s hand another squeeze. “You know we’re going to have to rewind the movie, right?”

The groan Jon lets out is more than a little overdramatic. “Why you like this- this drivel, I’ll never understand.”

“Hey, this drivel won two BAFTAs.”

“Ugh. No accounting for taste, I suppose.”

The end of the movie is, predictably, bad. But when Martin presses a soft kiss to Jon’s forehead before standing to go wash their mugs, Jon can’t bring himself to mind.

It’s two and a half weeks later that Jon finally, inevitably, slips up. Which, in his defense, is twice the amount of time he thought it would take for either Georgie or Melanie to finally ask the other out. So really, it’s not his fault at all.

It goes like this:

On Saturday nights at eight, Jon goes to Georgie’s flat, they order pizza or Chinese or Indian, and they put on paranormal investigation videos. Technically, it’s research—coming up with new places or events to make a What the Ghost? about, seeing what the rest of the community is doing, familiarizing themselves with other people’s work in case they ever need to network. In reality, it usually devolves into Jon picking apart their research as sloppy, unsubstantiated, complete falsification of facts, an utter embarrassment to the field of paranormal research and Georgie complaining that that’s not even how ghosts work, you can’t use an EMF there because of the power lines, that’s not even an orb that’s a dust particle on your camera lens.

In short, it’s the highlight of their week. Jon had to cancel once, and Georgie never let him hear the end of it.

Tonight, they’re watching an investigation of the Cambridge Military Hospital, and Georgie’s nearly reached a fever pitch, her increasingly frustrated hand-waves having narrowly avoided knocking over their half-full wine glasses twice now.

“—and that’s just a few reasons why they’re doing it all completely wrong!” Georgie says, ending the sentence with a long, drawn-out groan. “I swear, one of the only respectable shows in this business is Ghost Hunt UK.”

Jon eyes Georgie with no small amount of skepticism. “Well. Respectable is pushing it a bit.”

Georgie spins and points a stern, accusing finger at Jon. “Do not start. Nit-picking aside, Melanie’s tactics are solid, and at least she doesn’t blatantly fabricate her results!”

“Just plays it up for the camera, then,” Jon says under their breath.

“Jonathan.”

Jon bites back a groan. “Fine.” Then, like pulling teeth: “I… suppose that, historical inaccuracies aside, if… if I had to choose a show that I believed to be the- the least fraudulent, I might—might—be inclined to pick Ghost Hunt UK. But I cannot excuse sloppy research, Georgina.”

Georgie’s sigh is labored. “I suppose that’ll have to do.” She turns back to the television, and as she does so, she says, “You know, I thought that since you two were spending more time together, you might have warmed up to her.”

Jon just stares at her. “What?”

Georgie shrugs, reaching for her wine glass. “She comes into the café all the time now. I assume you’re not meeting up in the back room to discuss your mutual love for weird, esoteric books, right?”

Jon’s face heats up, and they press their lips very firmly together. “I… no. I suppose not.”

Georgie hums, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m just glad you two are friends now. God knows it’ll make it less awkward when she comes over to record for the next episode of What the Ghost?.”

“The next episode of—?” Jon cuts off with a sigh. “Georgie, you didn’t tell me that you were bringing Melanie on as a guest star.”

Georgie looks at Jon then, a strange expression on her face. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Jon reaches for their own wine glass, guilt coiling in their stomach. “No, I- I’m sorry. You just never mentioned it.”

Georgie gives Jon an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I- I suppose I thought maybe she’d mentioned it to you?” A small laugh. “Unless you were actually talking about weird books.”

“No,” Jon says sullenly. “That would have been nice. That would have involved actually talking and not just being grilled for information about you, and what you like, and whether or not you would like her.”

Two and a half weeks of carefully maintained restraint crumbles in an instant, and Jon’s wince is full-body. Georgie’s eyes are burning into the side of Jon’s face, and they say quickly, “Er. Forget I said anything, please.” They gesture to the screen helplessly. “I- I think they’re analyzing their footage now.”

“Jon,” Georgie says, setting her wine glass down on the table with a clink. “What did you just say?”

“Georgie,” Jon says, “I am begging you.”

“Jonathan Sims.”

Well. So maybe it’s entirely their fault. In for a penny, in for a pound, they suppose.

So they send a silent apology to Martin, set their wine glass down again, and open their mouth to speak.

Martin’s got Jon’s head resting on his chest and his arm curled around Jon’s back, the linens soft beneath them and his mind half-drifted off to sleep, when Jon says, quietly, “Georgie knows.”

“Mm?” Martin says, not quite awake. Then, after an extended pause, the words register, and Martin says, “Oh. Did you—?”

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but Jon’s already nodding, the motion sending his hair tickling against Martin’s chin. “It was an accident,” he says, his voice small. “It- it just came up, I didn’t mean to—”

He cuts off with a wordless noise of displeasure. Martin’s arm tightens around Jon, his thumb rubbing small circles against Jon’s arm. “Hey, hey. It’s fine. You know I would never be mad at you for something like this, right?”

Jon makes a sound remarkably similar to a scoff. “Yes, I know. It’s not- I’m not guilty, just- just frustrated.” There’s a small pause. Then, Jon says, quieter, “I suppose I’m worried that Melanie’ll hate me for it. We- we’re not friends, per se, but she trusted me not to say anything to Georgie. She asked me not to say anything, and I- I did it anyway!”

“You didn’t mean to,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s temple.

“I don’t think that matters much.”

Martin just hums. “What did Georgie say?”

Jon pauses for a moment. Then, with a small chuckle, he says, “Uh. I’m pretty sure it was something like, ‘Thank fuck, I’m asking her out tomorrow then’?”

Martin can’t help it; he laughs, more audibly than Jon, and soon they’re both giggling on the bed, Jon’s laughter a warm, rumbling feeling against Martin’s chest. “Well,” Martin says finally, once he’s gotten his breathing under control a bit. “I suppose that’s good, then.”

“Quite,” Jon says, an audible smile in his voice.

There’s quiet for a moment. Then, because Martin can’t resist: “So it really is that easy, then? One person can just ask the other out? Goodness, why didn’t we think of that?”

Jon makes a noise Martin could only describe as grumpy. “Go to sleep, Martin.”

“All right, all right,” Martin says, humored. Then, after a moment: “I love you.”

Martin can feel Jon smile against his chest. “I love you too.”

It’s not utterly freezing outside the next day, which Georgie is infinitely thankful for as she leaves the café in the hands of Jon and Sasha at quarter to five and makes the short commute to Melanie’s studio. She’d considered, briefly, just asking Melanie out at the café—pulling her aside to ask her a question, or possibly spelling it out in the windows if she was feeling bold—but it felt a bit too stale. And besides, Fridays were always busy days at the café, and between taking orders, restocking the pastries and sandwiches, and taking care of a mishap with a certain grey-haired, muffin-loving cat, Georgie had barely had time to flash Melanie a smile, much less ask her out on a date.

God, Georgie hasn’t been this nervous since uni.

Georgie’s been standing outside the studio for only a few minutes, debating whether or not to go inside or to just wait on the sidewalk for Melanie to come out, when a familiar voice says, “Georgie?”

The butterflies in Georgie’s stomach flutter, trying to climb up her throat and out of her mouth. She turns to see Melanie standing just a few feet away, her cheeks and nose dusted red from the chill and a hat pulled firmly down over her forehead and ears, a little logo of a ghost emblazoned upon the front of it.

The What the Ghost? logo.

Georgie honestly thinks that, in this moment, she might actually kiss Melanie King right here and now.

Instead, she says, “Are you off work?”

Melanie’s forehead creases, and it’s so cute. Georgie wants to reach over and smooth it flat again. She keeps her hands firmly in her pockets. “I have a few more things to do with the footage, but it shouldn’t take me more than half an hour, so- yeah, soon, I guess? Er, why?”

“Um.” Georgie shifts in place, the nerves in her stomach overtaking her quite suddenly. The words stick in her throat like honey, and she clears her throat once, like it’ll free them. “I’ve been, er. I’ve been wanting to try this new Indian place, over in Clapham? Martin, uh--he says you like Indian food?”

Melanie’s just staring at her. Georgie steels herself, tries to ignore the stutter of her heart in her chest, and says, “Also, there’s a new Paranormal Activity in cinemas, if you’d like to go with me. After dinner, that is.”

Georgie waits approximately a second and a half before saying, all in a rush, “A date, Melanie. Will you go on a date with me? Tonight, if you’re free.”

Then, Georgie clamps her mouth shut and waits. No matter how badly she wants to talk to fill the silence.

The silence that only lasts a few seconds before Melanie laughs, her face breaking into a smile of disbelief, and says, “Oh. Yes, I- that sounds lovely.” Then, enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely.”

The butterflies flutter once more, excitation and elation filling her in equal measure. “Great. Do, uh. Do you want to meet there, or…?”

Melanie blushes, which is a sight that Georgie thinks she’ll treasure forever. “Why don’t you just come inside?” she says, opening the door to the studio. “We’ve got central heat and shitty coffee.”

“Ah,” Georgie says as she steps inside. “That explains the daily visits to the café, then.”

Melanie’s cheeks grow a more vibrant red, and she looks away quickly. “That’s not the only reason,” she mumbles. Then, louder, and a bit hesitantly: “Do- do you want to help me with the footage? It’ll, er. It’ll go faster with two sets of eyes, and Martin’s left already.”

“Yeah,” Georgie says, her throat so swollen with affection she can hardly breathe. “I- I can do that.”

Never, in a million years, would Georgie have said that her ideal date began sitting behind a desk in a too-cramped office, staring at a screen and pointing out little glitches in the editing to be smoothed out. But her hand brushes against Melanie’s every so often when she moves and her knee is pressed up against Melanie’s where she’s sitting next to her in a chair they’d dragged over from Martin’s office, so it’s really no wonder that Georgie’s cheeks are flaming and her heart is stuttering in her chest by the time they finally get to the actual date part of the night.

And it just feels so… easy. Georgie takes Melanie to the Indian place, and they sit and eat chicken vindaloo and paratha under the red-yellow glow of the lights, just low enough to feel romantic but not so much so that Georgie can’t see the way that Melanie’s eyes light up when she talks about her latest hiking trip at Beinn a’Chrulaiste in Scotland.

“I’ve always wanted to hike St. Kilda,” Melanie says, twisting her fork in her chicken absently, “but, y’know… it’s got the Lover’s Stone, which is super popular with couples, and it always just felt weird, I guess.”

“Maybe we could go someday,” Georgie says, because she’s always been a bit too bold for her own good.

Melanie looks surprised for a moment before a small, coy smile comes across her lips. “I dunno—hiking through the wilderness is quite a bit different than sitting in your bedroom talking into a microphone. D’you think you’d be up for it?”

“I’ll have you know,” Georgie says, stabbing her fork at Melanie for emphasis, “that I do field research too! Jon’s the one who does most of the ‘history’ bits of it.”

Melanie lets out a small, bitten-off groan. “Right. Yeah, that tracks.”

Georgie considers telling her that she’s very much like Jon, in a way. But she decides that bringing up exes is not exactly the best first-date conversation material. So she picks up on a story about her last field research trip out to Minsden Chapel and brushes the topic away for another day.

For another date.

Georgie can’t stop smiling.

The film is fine, if a bit trite. Melanie’s hand in hers, coming to rest there thirty minutes in, is much, much more than fine. And when Georgie can’t stop herself from flipping her hand over and twining their fingers together, she’s rewarded with a small squeeze and the faintest of smiles, caught out of the corner of her eye.

They live on completely opposite sides of London, it turns out—Georgie in Acton and Melanie in Dulwich—and so the grand gesture of walking Melanie to her doorstep and then leaning in for a kiss like some couple out of a rom-com is out of the question. Still, Georgie is nothing if not persistent. So when Melanie stops in a secluded spot just outside the cinema, makes a small, aborted gesture that’s almost a shrug and says, “Well, I- I suppose this is it, then. I, er. I had a nice time,” Georgie decides that she’s something of a hopeless romantic after all, and her hand squeezes tighter around Melanie’s when she goes to pull away.

“Yeah,” Georgie says, certain that she sounds utterly infatuated but unable to convince herself to care. “Yeah, me too.” A pause. “I’d love to do it again sometime.”

Melanie lets out a short, clipped laugh. “Yeah, that- that sounds lovely.”

Georgie can’t help herself. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Melanie’s look of surprise quickly morphs into an amused grin. “Tomorrow? God, am I that good of company?”

“Mm, just a bit,” Georgie says with a fond grin to match. Her other hand comes up to brush gently against the side of Melanie’s cheek, the pads of her fingers catching against a few stray strands of black hair that have fallen around the shell of her ear. She hears Melanie’s breath catch as she takes a small step closer, enough so that the space between them is filled with the tension of too close not close enough. Then, teasingly: ”How do you feel about coffee?”

Melanie’s laugh is closer to a snicker. “Oh, I think I’ll manage.” A pause. Then: “Won’t be as good as yours, though.”

Georgie’s heart does something funny at that, a twisting, swirling sensation in her chest. “Flatterer,” she says, but it comes out barely more than a whisper.

Were they always so close together?

Melanie looks at Georgie then, something hot and burning in her eyes that Georgie feels reflected in her own mind, body, and soul. Her hand squeezes around Georgie’s, just once, and she says, “I’d very much like it if you would kiss me now, Georgie Barker.”

And so Georgie threads her fingers gently in Melanie’s hair, leans in, and kisses her. And everything—the softness of her lips, the little sigh she gives into Georgie’s mouth, the feeling of her hair between Georgie’s fingers—is so, so much better than she’d ever imagined it to be.

She kisses Melanie, memorizing the feel of her lips beneath hers, and begins to chart her way forward to all the kisses to come. She envisions the little kisses, like this one, and the passionate kisses, and the chaste kisses to a forehead or temple or back of the hand, and the sleepy kisses in the morning when neither of them would be awake enough to do much else than smile against the other’s mouth and trade quiet hellos. And with each passing image, the ember in her chest grows more and more until it’s fully ablaze, heating her from the inside out with a burning desire for what’s to come.

Melanie squeezes her hand once more before departing, leaving Georgie with a quiet I’ll call you and a smile so soft Georgie fears she might break it if she holds it too close. Georgie stands outside the cinema for a moment more, watching until Melanie disappears into the shadows, with lips and palms burning with a quiet, comforting heat that she can feel despite the nip of winter air against her skin. Then, she turns and begins to make her way back to her flat, a nervous energy curling in her stomach as she walks that finally, when she opens the door to her flat to reveal a very insistent Admiral rubbing against her ankles and purring at the approximate volume of a chainsaw, resolves itself into a bubbling excitement.

She can’t wait to fall in love with Melanie King.

Georgie feeds the Admiral, flicks the lights off, and goes to bed. And if her dreams are full of inky-black hair and thin-fingered hands and soft lips, pressing warmly against hers, then she finds she really doesn’t mind much at all.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma valentines exchange #wtgfs #jonmartin #melanie king #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #georgie barker #a plethora of cats!#my fic #my writing #happy valentine's day!! have some tooth-rotting fluff

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struwwelzeter · 4 years

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Ok, here it is. This is one of my all time favorite interviews. It doesn’t really contain anything new, and I am still convinced it has been translated before, but that is beside the point. He is so chatty, and I get the impression he was quite at ease with the interviewer, and he’s just and adorable dork. I gave up on trying to capture his “voice” pretty fast because it’s impossible. Maybe it’s because I know how he sounds when he speaks english, but he’s ... a bit of a hazard, in that he sounds dumb one minute and sophisticated the next, and some of the things he says are actually not translateable, so I just concentrated on trying to get what he says across and gave up on the how.

Interview with Richard Kruspe of Emigrate and Rammstein

by Marcus Schleutermann of Rock Hard Magazine, August 22, 2008

—-

Richard, where and in what kind of circumstances did you grow up?

Until I was seven I lived in a small village called Weisen. That was a beautiful childhood with alot of nature, cats and dogs and a big family with two siblings. Then the big break came unfortunately, with the divorce of my parents. My father was gone from one day to the next, and we moved in with my stepfather in Schwerin. We didn’t ge on at all. The situation between me and him escalated quite a bit and I often ran away from home quite often. Sometimes I slept on park benches or in a friend’s basement and was looked for by the police. When there was the chance to start an apprenticeship somewehre else I jumped on it right away and went to Hagenau. Since there was nothing there other than a big army base, I did nothing but spend two and a half years worth of sparetime playing guitar. Looking back, I have to say that my stepfather at least taught me basic discipline. I profit from that by now, because as a musician there is no outside obligation to sit down and compose every day.

Where would you most like to live?

At the moment, I live both in Berlin and in New York. I like that duality. New York has a unique energy that drives me. I never really warmed up to Berlin on the other hand. When I first came here, the negative attitude of the people here totally spooked me. It’s always a no at first. Apart from that it’s pretty cold here. But by now quite a few things have changed for the better, especially this refreshing multiculti-thing, which of course doesn't only work between germans and turks, but between all sorts of nationalities. I would most like to live in Cape Town. You have the mountains on one side and two oceans on the other. The people are open and friendly and there is a very beautiful light that is good for my mind. (I feel obligated to say that he uses the word «Gemüt» which could also mean mood or soul and kind of means all of those 3 things at once.) I can imagine that as a retirement retreat.

Were you more of nerd or a bruiser in school?

I think that goes without saying - quite a bit of a bruiser.

So you did end up in brawls now and then.

Certainly. At the age of 10 to 14 I got into situations all the time where I - lets say - could let loose physically. But when I started wrestling I learned how to chanel my aggressions. I trained 5 times a weekand had competitions on the weekends. Unfortunately I was way too offensive most of the time and had no patience while fighting. I wanted victory right away, like tyson.

Are your parents proud and of you?

I think my biological father is very proud of me. My mother always wanted something else for me, but by now my muscian’s life is okay for her. At the end of the day it doesn't matter what you do, as long as you are successful. Especially for the post-war generation of my parents materialistic value is still held above evrything.

So what does money mean to you?

Essentially, only the freedom to be able to do what I like to do. Money means independency to me most of all. The problem with that is of course that you get used to a certain level of luxury and lifestyle. When I earned the first bit of money with Rammstein I was in seventh heaven and thought I would never need more. With my two apartments in London and Berlin and the constant travelling I need a bit more nowadays.

How do you define success?

Success is relative. With Emigrate I got great reviews, sold a good number of albums worldwide and got releases in America and Australia. Therefore, I could assess my solo project as a success, but in comparison with Rammstein, who sell millions, Emigrate are small fry.

What was the most miserable job you ever had?

The worst job was window cleaner, because I suffer from vertigo a bit [laughs]. Initially I was a truckdriver, but I lost my license after an accident. After that the company deemed I was supposed to become a window cleaner and climb up the Schwerin television tower. No way! I just put up the ladder for them and told them: See you later! (He actually uses english for the see you later. More impactful, you see.) To get by, I made shoes myself and sold them. Espardrilles and the likes. That is funny, because I am actually not talented in crafts at all. But I am streetwise and inventive when it comes to survival. I always had to improvise to get by because I couldn't handle authority at all. As a teenager I apprenticed to be a cook/chef (Same word in german. Probably more a cook than a chef to be honest here.) That's a tough job going off the tough hours alone. Apart from that it gets quite hot by the stove after a while.

That is not that different with Rammstein’s pyro show.

Quite true, hahaha! I believe cooking and making music has so much in common anyway. I have always cooked without a recipe. I just take what is there and conjure up something delicious. Some things maybe don't fit that well in the beginning, but you learn that quite quickly and then you develop an intuitive sense. That is the same with composing.

What would have become of you, if you hadn’t become a musician?

Hm, good question. I would like to produce a band some time - so kinda switch to the other side. Other than that I love to write and could imagine screenwriting would be a suitable job for me.

Speaking of Hollywood, how about being before the camera? Are there characters you would have loved or love to play?

Two characters I find brilliant: Taxi Driver and Leon the Professional. And those gangster flicks are cool. Goodfellas and Reservoir Dogs for exemple.

So more the underdogs and the villains - not the heroes.

Yes, they just have more potential. After I shot some erotic scenes for a video the other day I could also imagine doing an entire film in that direction. I was quite nervous in the beginning, but the longer we were shooting the more fun I had. Erotic, mind you, not pornographic.

So, you’d undress for Playgirl?

Not anymore [laughs]. Although probably not before either. I do have a pretty easy going relationship with my body and run around naked in my apartment alot, but then I am not that exhibitionistic that I'd strip for some glossy magazine.

So you’re a at-home nudist.

Yeah, that's an east thing, I think. When I opened my apartment door in New York naked once when the door rang while I was in bed with my then wife, she was completely bewildered. The shameless ossis (east germans) and the prudish americans - that was a meeting of the worlds. [laughs]

Are you vain?

Unfortunately, yes. I'd like to be more above that because vanity is a negative quality that has something to do with insecurity and ego. I work on myself and as I got older I luckily developed a more casual attitude. At some point you start to accept the degredation of the body.

Theoretically you could counteract that with plastic surgery. How about an appointment with Nip/Tuck, hm?

That's not something for me, but I don't have anything against plastic surgery. If people are unhappy with their body and gain new self esteem and sense of life through an operation, they should go through with it. I do see a problem in the danger of it getting exorbitant and to develop some kind of addiction like with tattoos that goes far beyond the reasonable. The body won't go along with everythig after all, and such things as calf implants are pretty crazy.

Speaking of crazy, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

That must have been asking a woman to marry me two days after meeting her. She said yes, and the rest is history. (They are divorced at this point, as the article points out here - in brackets too.)

Cue: Woman: What type do you prefer?

Like almost everyone I do have some sort of type. You need a relationship that mirrors yourself and to develop. So in that sense you're looking for a partner that drives you forward in certain aspects. To have a good relationship you need to keep a balance of passion and friendship - if it's just one it will overturn at some point.

What do you think of groupies?

They just belong to it all. This symbiosis of star and groupie is like theater. The relationship between both has of course nothing to do with reality, and is just an illusion, but you shouldn't destroy that. I'm personally not really tempted by groupies because I like it when I have to fight for a woman. But I like the glamour their presence emenates.

Do you believe in god or reincarnation? Are you spiritaully inclined?

More and more. I don't believe in god in a church sense, but I'm a spiritual guy and believe in a form of justice; that the things we do come back to us in some way eventually. Karma, so to speak. I also have the slightly feminine habit of using astrology to understand people. I use it as a tool to decipher characters. Once you know how someone's house is build, it's easier to place their actions. To be clear: I don't mean horoscopes or such nonsense. There's alot of maths in astrology and you can't compare that with the usual star-sign pulp in TV programmes.

Could you live without television?

Nah. I have a huge beamer in my New York apartment's bedroom. I love lying in bed, smoking and watching good movies more than anything. That is the only thing where I can really switch of other than sex. Lots of both, please. [laughs]

Reading isn't your thing?

I used to read alot, but now I'm unfortunately too lazy for it most of the time. Even on the plane you get a monitor and a huge selection of movies since a while now. But I still have a good reading recommendation: The New York trilogy by Paul Auster.

What's the most important invention for human kind?

Each century has it's own big invention and right now that is clearly the internet. Before that it was electricity, which made everything else like the light bulb and the elctric guitar even possible.

To which era would you most like to travel if there was a time machine?

I guess the sword and blade time as I always call it. Knights templar, 11th century. I can answer that this well, because I like to watch even stupid movies when they deal with that period. I just have a huge affinity to it somehow and would love to find out how things were going back then.

Do you have a phobia?

Other than the aforementioned fear of heights I have a phobia of snakes.

When did you cry the last time?

Now you got me. That is a huge problem of mine because I just can't cry. I think that is a pity myself, because crying is an outlet with which you let grief go. Maybe that's why my music is so important to me, it's like my tear duct and helps me to live out my feelings.

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- sorry for any spelling mistakes but I’m dyslexci and I can’t be bothered.

#i love this dork very much ok #what he says about gropies is 100% what this singer i used to know also said and it’s true and I believe it 100%#he is so predictable #paul auster of course what else #and then he wants to play wild west with the knights templar #i love him #struwwel translates #richard zk #richard z kruspe #rzk #rammstein

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