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seongminiz · 7 months

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hotdemonsummoner . com - kang minhee

minors dni ; demon dom!minhee x human sub!reader ; 2.4k words

warnings : fem reader , dubcon , not rlly proof read (thats my trademark atp) , reader is an idiot and a monsterfucker (just like me fr)(very mild monsterfucking btw bc he literally looks human with horns like ..) , crack-ish in the first half but i swear it gets smutty quick , minhee is kinda mean , spit (minhees spit works as an aphrodisiac ehegegheh), its just messy overall , unprotected sex , breeding but its not rlly breeding but ,, whatever , possessive minhee [pretends to be surprised] , manhandling , size kink , strength kink (reader is referred to fragile/small but its just in proportion to a literal demon n has nothing to do with how she looks !), oral (f receiving) , biting , marking , dumbification ? , praise , dacryphilia , minhee calls reader 'little human' (giggling kicking my feet) . hopefully i didnt forget anything

tagging my lovely @ajaxsbeloved hope u like this 🫶🏻

the warning list is ,,, long . it might be a little cringe but i literally give zero fucks‼️⁉️ but i do feel like the smut part kinda sucks but also it might be that im just sad while posting this n its affecting how i view my work idk ANYWAYS wrote this while i had a cold n then a mosquito bit me on the eye so any and all mistakes r bc of that real no clickbait . had so much fun writing this uhhh happy spooky season idk i want demon!minhee in a way that is concerning to feminism lesbianism and my gender identity amen

demon!minhee whom you not so accidentally summoned in your room one uneventful night.

you're bored to death. your favorite show hasn't had a new episode in weeks, all your friends are busy - studying for exams, working, on dates while you're sitting in your lonely bedroom, staring at the ceiling as if it'll solve all your problems in life.

you start considering it might be able to do that when, out of nowhere, you're reminded of the stupid website you visited a few days ago with your friend when she was sleeping over at your place. something about the occult, hot demons and summoning rituals. you grab your phone, opening an incognito tab and typing the link you somehow remember by heart (hotdemonsummoner.com? seriously?)

if this was a horror movie you'd probably be dead in the first ten minutes. you grab a pen, paper and a candle - the tutorial talked about multiple small ones, but you'll have to make do with the cinnamon scented ikea christmas candle that has been sitting on your desk for at the very least three years. and once you're done, you wait for the magic to happen.

five minutes later, there's no sign of any hot demon summoned instantly in your room. you're pretty sure- no, you're certain the problem was the candle. either that, or the site is complete bullshit, but you refuse to believe that. there's no other explanation, screw ikea and their stupid christmas candles.

you sigh, placing everything back where it belongs and letting yourself fall on the bed, picking up your phone just to be met once again by no notification, no nothing, just that stupid 'SUMMON A HOT DEMON INSTANTLY!' title in neon pink with a little devil gif floating right beside it, mockingly staring back at you.

that's when you see something from the corner of your eye, a shadow sliding across the wall. it's probably just the light outside hitting a tree weirdly and casting a creepy shadow, no big deal. but there's no trees outside your window, you're a broke college student who lives in a sad gray apartment complex in an equally sad and gray city.

you gather enough courage to look up from the screen of your phone, your eyes slowly adjusting from its blinding brightness to the darkness of your surroundings. at first you don't see anything, half tempted to turn your phone flashlight on. and then you make eye contact.

he looks just as confused as you are when he quite literally spawns in front of your bed. the normal human reaction would have probably been to scream, instead you just gasp in surprise, followed by a small 'oh.' as you look at him with wide eyes. he takes slow, calculated steps towards you and you have half a mind to hastily turn off your phone, hiding it under a pillow.

'what the fuck?' you say under your breath, studying his figure. if this isn't some extremely technologically advanced burglary and you're not having an expired candle fumes induced hallucination, then this is the demon you tried to summon. and he's actually hot, which means the website was not a scam and the candle is the problem. he seems to read your exclamation and general confusion as a question on why he's there. 'you summoned me.' he explains, taking yet another step towards you.

'no! wait! don't get close!' you order, your self defense weapon of choice being the pen you used to summon him. 'listen,' you start, raising your hands defensively 'i did not think the random summon a hot demon instantly tutorial i found on a sketchy website would actually... well, summon a hot demon instantly.' the creature - minhee, you don't know how you got his name, if he telepathically shared with you or what - raises an eyebrow, amusement clear on his face. 'so you think i'm hot?'

'no! i mean yes! but like not in a i want to fuck you way! just in a... you're an objectively beautiful man- demon, sorry, way...?' you can feel your body temperature rising, getting restless under his unwavering stare. and minhee can feel it too, he can hear the way your heartbeat hasn't calmed down for a second and he can see how your thighs have been clenched together ever since he appeared. his eyes linger for a few more seconds on them, observing the way your shorts ride up everytime you anxiously squirm under his gaze.

'so, little human, why would you want to summon a hot demon instantly? is there anything in particular you need from me?' the nickname has your stomach doing backflips, you swallow thickly before speaking 'will you steal my soul if i say yes? take it as a payment for whatever favor i may ask?' the demon laughs, leaning down so his face is just a breath away from yours. 'not really. i could make an exception for a pretty girl like you,' his eyes flicker to your lips for a split second, so fast you don't even notice it.

thing is, minhee usually does feed off of human souls, but there's something about you that's telling him to not do it just yet, wait it out and see how it goes. maybe he could feed off of something else, something he doesn't get to do that often nowadays. surprising, but the monsterfucker demographic - even the milder ones who would only ever go as far as fucking his semi-human form - is basically an endangered species nowadays.

before you can answer with what favor you actually need (not that you'd actually know what to ask.. what, were you going to offer him to play UNO or something?) minhee's hands are on top of your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses his lips to yours. you shiver at the cold sensation of his skin, way too cold for a human, and minhee can hear your heartbeat quickening, as you weakly grab his wrists in a failed attempt to get him off of you - or at the very least slow down the process of whatever is going on.

minhee finds your fighting amusing, he knows no human could ever overpower him physically, let alone a little fragile thing like you, but he still indulges in giving you the small hope you could break free from his hold, just to take it away immediately after. one of his hands leaves your thigh to grab both of your wrists, pinning them over your head, the other one staying on your thigh, pushing it to spread even more as his thumb runs along the hem of your shorts.

his mouth is on you once again, and this time minhee forces his tongue past your lips - the tip of it is slightly pointed, not enough to actually hurt you in any way but enough to make you wonder what exactly it could do. you panic for a second, just for everything to slow down, your body relaxing under minhee as the arousal between your legs grows tenfold, you can feel your panties sticking to you and minhee doesn't give you an answer once you look up at him in confusion, your eyes welling up with tears. you can barely come up with a coherent sentence, 'wha- what did you do?' you manage to stutter out, every word getting harder to say as your mind slips, you don't even know where.

minhee's hand leaves your thigh, going to gently wipe the tears that started running down your cheeks. 'mh, that's interesting,' he says, more to himself than to you, fingers sliding down your face to lightly brush against your lips. 'i've used this on other humans before, but their reaction was never this strong.' you don't have time to ask what exactly 'this' is - you don't even know if you have the brain power to do it, really - as minhee forces your mouth open and spits in it. you gasp at his action, but still end up swallowing, your body shuddering with another wave of what could only be described as raw pleasure.

you don't know how he's doing that, but you feel pathetic, getting this horny over someone who hasn't even touched you yet shouldn't be normal. but, honestly, what exactly is normal about a demon appearing in your room and trying to fuck you?

your shorts have been discarded somewhere in your room, and your panties are quick to encounter the same fate - not before getting ripped off of you, to which you whine in disappointment, but minhee cuts you off saying something about you 'not needing them when you're with him' you don't really pay any mind to.

he takes his time with you, biting your thighs to the point you're sure you're bleeding, and then running his tongue along the small cuts he caused, letting whatever the obscure substance mixed with his spit is enter your bloodstream in a matter of seconds, reducing you to even more of an incoherent mess.

when minhee finally gets to eating you out, it all escalates far too quickly for your slowed down brain. for a second he's sucking on your clit, and then he's fucking you with his tongue, reaching spots a human could never dream to reach with their mouth alone. the stimulation is too much, your hands search for any kind of support, something you can grab onto, your fingers running through his hair and pulling slightly before minhee grabs your wrists, moving your hands to hold onto his horns instead and letting out a groan when you do so.

he works on you until you're on the brink of consciousness, until you've lost count of how many times you already came - around three, probably, but they feel like ten times that when each orgasm is more intense than the other and your perception of reality is fading with it. minhee notices it, ignoring your pleas about it being 'too much' and how u 'cant take more' and slipping two of his pretty slender fingers in your sopping cunt. you sob, shaking your head as you uselessly try to squirm away from his touch, subsiding to the unbearable pleasure just a few seconds later.

'already tired, little human? how are you going to take my cock if you can't last a few rounds with my tongue and fingers? maybe you don't want it that bad, then,' he's just fucking with you, deep down you know it, but the thought of minhee just leaving you like this after everything he's done is enough for you to desperately shake your head as you grab his free hand - a far too intimate gesture for this whole 'fucking a random demon you just summoned out of boredom' situation you've found yourself in - pulling him into yet another kiss that leaves the both of you breathless. you never knew it would happen in your lifetime, but you managed to make a demon, a being who doesn't need to breathe, breathless.

'is that convincing enough?' you whisper in a split second of lucidity, your mind and body already subsiding to the effects of his spit you might as well have grown addicted to, half tempted to kiss him again and only interrupted by minhee slowly slipping his fingers out of you. your complaints about it are short lived, so focused on the emptiness between your legs you don't realize minhee has pulled out his cock until his tip is pressing past your entrance.

the stretch is almost unbearable, despite all the time minhee spent overstimulating you he's still too big, and you tell him exactly that in an attempt to slow him down. it only feeds minhee's ego more, though, he chuckles as he pins your hips to the bed, telling you to 'stay fucking still and just take it,' forcing his whole size inside of u until he bottoms out. you've never felt this full, struggling to even breathe as the feeling of minhee inside of you overcomes all your senses.

minhee gives you no time to adjust to the way his cock is stretching you out, immediately thrusting into you and reaching even deeper. all your pleas for him to go slower fall to deaf years, quickly being replaced by the moans you're struggling to quiet down. it's not long before you're getting close again, still sensitive from all your previous orgasms.

'need to cum' you whine, your hips buck up to meet minhee's, feeling his tip hit spots you never knew existed. he chuckles, slowing his thrusts until a fresh wave of tears is filling your eyes at the idea of being denied of your release. 'you need to?' his tone is mocking, but you're so fucked out you can't notice it, quickly nodding 'yeah, need to cum all over your cock.' that's all it takes for minhee to pick up his pace again, aim even deeper than before and have you quickly approaching your high as you incoherently moan his name.

you feel like your soul has been ripped out of your body, gone through each and every layer of hell, and then put back where it belongs. your legs shake as minhee keeps mercilessly fucking you, mumbling something about how he's going to 'fill you up and keep you forever' that, even in your fucked out state, slightly alarms you, your hands pushing at his shoulders to no avail just to be once again pinned above your head.

minhee knows it's physically impossible for a demon to breed a human, and yet, the idea of somehow making you his through it sounds so appealing, as you sob in overstimulation and keep begging him to pull out. he might be aware of there being no consequences if he cums inside, but what would a human like you know? the way you squirm under him, trying to convince him to pull out is almost endearing.

'you're so well behaved, little human, it would be a shame to let all the results of your hard work go to waste, right?' you keep shaking your head, a high pitched moan leaving you as minhee finally cums deep inside of you, tightly pressed against your cervix to make sure you're marked by him, completely ruined for anyone else who'll ever try to fuck you.

minhee doesn't know why he did that, despite having no plans to keep you he still found himself desiring, needing to claim you as his little human. as he stills inside you, minhee thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might bring you 'back home' with him.

#🍰 seongminiz !#🧇 crvt !#i dont like the ending it feels rushed #aaaaa whatever lets just post this it took me a whole week to write #cravity hard hours #cravity smut #minhee hard hours #minhee smut

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judas-is-so-so-silly · 9 months

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This is long overdue, but I wrote a birthday present for the lovely @belissmatopolina a couple months ago and yes I'm pretty proud of it

Warning smut under the cut and if it doesnt make sense I DONT CARE

Character is referred to gender neutrally and has a pussy 👍👍

Also tagging @creamo-for-primo cause uh idk why but I have a suspicion you might enjoy this

Primos garden had been a sanctuary for you since coming to the ministry, the quiet dirt work was a nice break from the constant migraine of paperwork and orgy propositions. And of course seeing Papa didn't make things any worse, his kind demeanor and horrible jokes made you feel right at home in his private garden. And you couldn't help the crush that developed, his arched nose and melodic voice wooed you within days of working with him. Within weeks casual touches went from a reassuring hand on your shoulder to a quick slap on your ass whenever he snuck behind you. You never minded his dirtiness, actual soil or his casual attitude towards sexual advances, but Primo was always polite in his own way.

Of course he wouldn't mind a dirty joke of your own. It took a bit of planning, a good pair of sewing scissors, and a peek into how soon you could get another habit, but you were certain it would at least make him laugh.

The sun was shining and you couldn't keep the smirk off of your face, it wasn't your fault that you were bad at keeping secrets!

"Ciao, bella vista," Primos sultry voice rumbled into your ear, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. He had forgone his chausable and was clad only in a dark dress shirt littered with stains and a pair of slacks, but his paints were as pristine as they were at this morning's Black Mass.

"Buon pomeriggio, Papa." You continued to plant the bulbs, pretending to pay him no mind as his hold around you grew tighter. Primo chuckled, "Your Italian is getting better every day, il mio fiore."

His compliment made your cheeks flush, they always did. At least you were prepared to return the favor. You brought your hand to the neckline of your shirt, an old pyjama top you didn't much care for, and tore it.

His gasp made your head spin. You reached for his hand and moved it upwards to your newly exposed breast.

"You were saying, Papa?" His hand shook and it only added fuel to your fire. You could feel the heat rushing from his hand to your core, then he squeezed your breast gently.

"I've told you a million times my darling," he massaged your breast more roughly, "call me Primo." The growling roll of his r's never failed to make you drip and you were sure he could feel your heart racing under his touch,

"Do you have no more fire in you, il mio fiore? Just enough to get me going, eh?" Primo rumbled into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He hummed in response to your silence, groping you one last time before moving his hand downwards to cup your throbbing pussy.

"Is this what you wanted?" He chuckled, "you might be worse than me, piccola puttana."

That went straight to your cunt. The groan that escaped your lips was guttural and your legs clenched around his hand, pressing it farther onto your dripping heat. He hummed in approval and ground his half hardened cock into your plump ass, "I knew you would pull something like this, did you really think I didn't notice how you've been looking at me? I don't think ever seen a Siblings so full of lust," he scoffed and pressed a wet kiss to your bare shoulder, licking a trail up to your ear, "or so painfully desperate." You moaned at his words, you couldn't deny that you had been undressing him with your eyes or the many nights you'd spent with your hands between your legs wishing it was his hands, his mouth, his cock, anything.

"So quiet for someone so ready only a few moments ago, have you changed your mind?" You felt his hand waver against you but you quickly pressed it back into your core.

"No!" You shouted a bit too loud. "Please, please Papa I need you." A grumble escaped his chest and he pressed the pad of one finger onto your clit, eliciting a wanton moan from you.

"Not Papa." He circled his finger once, almost as a warning. "To you, I am Primo. I am just a man who wants to fuck you until you are a sloppy, brainless mess. Would you like that, darling?"

You could only nod, the thought making you grind into his hand to relieve the tension his voice alone caused you.

"I take that as a si, my flower?" A breathless confirmation escaped you in the form of a desperate, moany "yes". He removed his hand from your clothed pussy and took your hand in his, leading you out of the greenhouse and into the Papal quarters. People were staring but you couldn't bring yourself to care a single bit, they should know that Primo still gets some and that you would proudly give it to him.

Translations:

Ciao, bella vista - Hey, good looking

Buon pomeriggio - Good afternoon

Il mio fiore - my flower

I'm sorry if those arent right I used google translate and idk if american english terms translate like that into italian feel free to come for me if you are an italian speaker

#gbcgf primo smut

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 1 year

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Donald Trump Jr. and Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene have come under fire for making the “dumbest remarks ever” about Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s surprise trip to the US.

The Ukrainian leader is in Washington D.C., to meet President Joe Biden and give an in-person address to Congress.

The monumental meeting, which remained a closely guarded secret until Tuesday night, marks Mr. Zelensky’s first trip out of Ukraine since Russia declared war on the country 300 days ago.

While Mr. Biden tweeted that he was “thrilled” to welcome Mr. Zelensky to the US and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said America is “in awe of the heroism of the Ukrainian people”, some MAGA Republicans are less than impressed with the visit.

Mr. Trump Jr. took to Twitter to complain about Republican support for the Ukrainian defence effort and about Mr. Zelensky, who he branded an “international welfare queen”.

“Mitch McConnell actually said yesterday that most Republicans #1 priority is ... Ukraine,” he wrote.

“I have yet to meet a single Republican that thinks that, but I guess the disconnect between actual republicans and D.C. swamp rats shouldn’t surprise anyone.”

In a follow-up tweet, Mr. Trump Jr – whose father contributed zero to the US economy in the way of federal income tax in 2020 – added: “Zelensky is basically an ungrateful international welfare queen.”

His criticism was echoed by right-wing conspiracy theorist Ms. Greene who posted an eight-part rant about the US’s support of Ukraine.

In her scathing posts, the MAGA Republican congresswoman fumed about sending money to Ukraine and made a bizarre reference to a so-called “omnimonster”.

“Mitch McConnell helps pass a nearly $2 TRILLION Onnimonster so that he can hand a $47 BILLION dollar check to Zelenskyy when he shows up in D.C. today. But in my district, many families & seniors can’t afford food & many businesses are struggling bc of Biden policies,” she wrote.

Ms. Greene went on to claim that she is speaking on behalf of the American people – something many Americans were quick to dispute.

“The disconnected & totally oblivious government leaders & sheltered media all live in a bubble & only talk to each other,” the congresswoman tweeted.

“They’re so naive & ignorant they think my views are extreme but are totally blind and stupid to the fact that what I am saying is exactly how Americans feel.”

Her lengthy post came hours after she branded Mr. Zelensky – who refused offers to rescue him from Ukraine at the start of the war in order to stay and lead his nation’s defence efforts – a “shadow president”.

“Of course the shadow president has to come to Congress and explain why he needs billions of American’s taxpayer dollars for the 51st state, Ukraine. This is absurd. Put America First!!!” she tweeted.

Several social media users slammed the pair for their comments, pointing out their perceived hypocrisies.

One Twitter user mocked Mr. Trump Jr. for making “the dumbest remark ever” branding him a “daddy’s boy”.

“A daddy’s boy who met with a foreign adversary that was attempting to subvert an American election is daring to denigrate a true hero battling Putin & defending his nation from a genocidal war? This may be the dumbest remark ever from Junior. And that’s quite an accomplishment,” they said.

“Pal, look at that ‘queen’ and learn a few lessons about courage, decency, and what it means to be a grown-up,” chimed another person.

Others pointed to the irony of his comments coming hours after a report revealed how little tax his father paid while serving in the White House.

“Your dad doesn’t pay his taxes. Sit this one out, buddy,” the Lincoln Project tweeted to Mr. Trump Jr.

Ms. Greene – who faced renewed mockery this week over her past peddling of an antisemitic conspiracy theory – also faced backlash from Americans demanding she stop claiming to speak on behalf of them.

“NO NO NO NO YOU DON’T GET TO SAY HOW 'US' Americans feel. We really can’t stand you. I’m not trying to be mean but everyone I know starts laughing when your name is even brought up. DON’T SPEAK FOR US . YOU CAN HARDLY SPEAK FOR YOURSELF,” one person tweeted.

Others sought to school Ms. Greene that supporting Ukraine might be in the best interests of the US, with some branding her “selfish”.

“By helping the Ukrainians, we ARE putting America first. Fight the war there or we have to fight Russian in Europe except it will be Taylor Swift on the USO stage, not Glenn Miller,” one person tweeted.

Another person tweeted: “When I was growing up, I was always taught to put others before myself. I was taught not to be selfish. You republicans don’t think about others; you only think about yourself. Why don’t you just say it the way you mean it?”

The noise from the right-wing figures came ahead of Mr. Zelensky’s arrival in Washington D.C. for a visit that he says will strengthen Ukraine’s “resilience and defence capabilities” in the face of Russian attack.

Mr. Biden greeted Mr. Zelensky as he arrived at the White House before the two leaders sat down for a two-hour meeting.

Mr. Zelensky and Mr. Biden were then holding a joint press conference where they were expected to announce the US’s commitment to send an additional $2bn in security assistance to Ukraine, including the provision of the Patriot missile defence system.

On Wednesday evening, the Ukrainian president was due to deliver a joint address to Congress after accepting an invitation from House Speaker Nancy Pelosi.

As a show of gratitude for the US’s assistance during the war, Mr. Zelensky was expected to present Mr. Biden and Congress with a Ukrainian flag signed by Ukrainian soldiers.

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sonwar · 11 months

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hello!! i would like to first preface that i'm a fan of your writing (ao3 user sonwar) from your kpop works (namely the seokhoon (seventeen) titled 'do you know my heart? (i can't be without you)' in 2020. and if i remembered you wrongly, and you have in fact never heard of this fic or the kpop group before please feel free to delete this ask i apologise deeply aaaaa (whoops ahahaaa im sorry if that's the case)

today. as one does, i was thinking of this fic: its definitely one of the bigger fics the seokhoon tag has seen, and also one of those fics which leave a kind of Impact. even as i ponder seokhoon today as a writer myself, i find so many of the symbols and metaphors i use in my writing to have come from that fic. (if you remember) the ideas of jihoon admiring seokmin's singing & calling him the best singer—i took that and i turned it into a kind of how jihoon's music has been made real vs seokmin's which comes more as instinct—and jihoon, who is in awe of this. and of course seokmin thinking about jihoon all the time—that's something that i genuinely hold so close to my heart. it's so sweet and just soooo seokmin. aaaaaa

your writing there has such a tender and sweet quality to it that ive been striving to achieve—emotion comes across in a way that is. muted (i mean this positively). i feel comfortable reading it because it never feels shocking everything just feels so natural. those 33k words are a source of comfort. i love and value growth in characters/the progression of time in fic, and oh man!!!! you really show the emotional growth of seokhoon so incredibly well in that fic. its so good to me. it feels so alive because of the references you made but also because of how you wrote them. to create life!!! it's so incredible because. its all just so rich and perfect and good and i'm so grateful that ive been able to read this and have it affect me on such a level. my comment on that fic does nothing to live up to what i actually thought of it and now even if i cant convey my appreciation on the fic comments itself, i tried to find another way to reach out to you (hence, this lengthy anon ask)

feel free to ignore this/not reply!!! i understand that you've orphaned the seokhoons for a reason but in a way i just really wanted to let you know that your writing has made me feel so much. and for that! i am so grateful!! thank you again and so much for all of it.

hi anon! you have me right, i am responsible for do you know my heart (as well as "when i'm with you i bloom" and "i'm dying to be taken apart" in case you were looking for me...) i had sort of decided i was going to keep my kpop fandom side off tumblr, since i have found it to be sort of unwelcoming towards kpop, for whatever reason? but your message was so touching i'm throwing that out the window and doing whatever i want anyway! (more under the cut <3)

Letting you know off the bat that your message made me! incredibly emotional and teary eyed! Thank you very much for your kind words, you really can't know how much it means to me, and I'm so glad you reached out to me this way as well! I genuinely got so excited when I read your ask, I'm always happy to talk fics and even more happy to talk seokhoon, as I don't have many people to discuss them with! So thank you! The reason why I orphaned my old fics is...probably a lot more simple than what you might be thinking? The truth is, after posting those three seokhoon fics (which I wrote in pretty quick succession to each other), I went about two years without writing anything at all because I didn't have the bandwidth for it, and then I wrote The Mystery of The Pears in some kind of fugue state over the course of a couple months, and when I read that back to myself I felt that my writing had grown so much, I didn't really want that writing to be associated with my writing of a few years ago. But, to be honest, I re-read my Seokhoon fics again a few weeks ago and found that I enjoyed them much more than I thought I would, and much more than I did when I first wrote them, so I wonder if it's less that my writing has grown and maybe more that I've learned to be kinder towards myself...that'll teach me to orphan fics without completely thinking it through first, I guess. (that being said! i'd like you to know i am still planning on writing more seokhoon! seventeen is very near and dear to my heart, like. i really can't put into words the love i have for those boys, which is to say that i'll probably be a carat for as long as they're seventeen, and maybe even a little longer than that. plus, i feel personally tasked with bringing more seokhoon into the world, so, you know. currently, i'm really trying to finish a seokhoon fic i promised a friend MONTHS ago, even before tmotp was finished, and then i have about...3? seokhoon wips i've started and would like to finish? whether they all get done is to be seen, but hopefully!) Anyway...I have to say, I really love the way you took my little headcanon about Jihoon admiring Seokmin's singing and devolped it further! It's something I think a lot about, too, I think it's so interesting that, objectively, Seokmin has a much wider range and capacity as a singer, but that ever since Jihoon was a trainee he's been told he "already knows how to sing" and "doesn't need singing lessons." It makes me wonder how Jihoon approaches singing, if it's something that he considers more physical, like a muscle that he can control, rather than something emotional, which I think might be closer to how Seokmin approaches singing. I mention this because, considering that Jihoon is also the one making guides for the others to follow and the one directing them in the recording booth, I'm a litte curious about how those different approaches meet together in a more practical way, if that makes sense. I do still think it's something Jihoon would admire and think about a lot if only because it would be so different from his own approach. I also have some theories about certain songs in their discography being written specifically for Seokmin's voice (Same Dream Same Mind Same Night immediately comes to mind, I really think out of all their songs, that's the one that showcases the style Seokmin's voice is suited to the most and he really shines on that song...)

I am of the belief that Seokmin would have been watching Jihoon a lot longer than Jihoon would have been watching him...something about admiration that shifts and changes the closer you get to it...And I don't think Seokmin knows how to not take care of people, it's just who he is, but I also think that feeling is heightened a little bit with Jihoon specifically, who takes on a lot of responsibility without ever complaining about it, and who describes himself as someone who deals with things on his own. I think (and I've seen him) he would try to find ways to make things easier for Jihoon without him having to ask for it first, so that's where that comes from. I think muted is one of the sweetest ways anyone has described the way I write emotions. I like the idea of emotions that come easily and gradually, like. Slow drip love rather than sudden and all-consuming (and, that way, when trying to convey something that is bigger and overwhelming, it's easier to contrast those two emotions against each other), so thank you very much for that. I also think it's very funny you mention the way I wrote the progression of Seokhoon in that fic because, while I find your words incredibly kind and I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed it, and I can still sort of see why I wrote that fic the way I did, I do sometimes consider sort of re-writing a different version of that fic because I'm so sure I could do it better now...nowadays, I think the timeline would be a little different? Idk. Something for future me to consider... Anyway! Thank you, again, for such a lovely ask, I really am so very thankful, and I'm so glad you enjoyed my Seokhoon. Please feel free to message me whenever you'd like! (I'm also on twt! I only use tumblr on browser so I only log on when I'm using my laptop, but I'm a lot more active on twt.) Also, if you ever post your fics or already have, please let me know! I'd love to read them, and I'm always looking for more Seokhoon fics, since there's so very little of them to go around, as I'm sure you know...

#rowan's inbox #anon #my fic #my fic: do you know my heart? (i can't be without you)#seokhoon #seventeen #svt #once again i prattled on and on because no one's ever taught me to shut up #especially not about seokhoon my twt is a mess of seokhoon threads...anyway.

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annewritesfic · 2 years

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oooh caring for each other while ill with cheer stepsisters?

“I fucking hate Kate Dalton!”

“First of all, language. Second of all, why?”

“First of all, shut up, Captain America. Second of all, she got me sick!”

Annleigh looked up from her book as Farrah came downstairs, wearing a deep scowl. She’d taken out the braids Annleigh had done for her before she’d left for church this morning and put her hair in a wavy ponytail instead.

“What do you mean?”

Farrah sat down in the corner of the couch, the spot she always took. “D’you remember how at practice on Friday, Kate kept sneezing?”

“Vaguely…”

“And we had to partner up for warmups?”

“I distinctly remember you complaining, yes.”

“I was texting with Eva last night and she told me she was at Kate’s house and they were supposed to go see a movie but they stayed home because Kate was sick, and this morning I woke up with a sore throat, and it’s all Kate’s fault!”

“I don’t think Kate meant to get you sick,” Annleigh pointed out. “And I really don’t think they wanted to warm up with you any more than you did.”

“Hm.” Farrah considered this. “Okay, so it’s Kate and Riley’s fault.”

Annleigh sighed. “How do you feel now?”

“Oh, like shit,” Farrah said casually, as if she was saying The sky is blue. “Still got the sore throat, but now I’ve also got a runny nose and I’m sneezing and kinda coughing. Oh, and I’ve had a headache on and off all day, too.”

Annleigh leaned over and pressed the back of her hand to Farrah’s forehead. “I think you might have a little bit of a fever. Do you know where the thermometer is?”

Farrah raised an eyebrow. “You mean the thermometer we haven’t seen since you got the flu in eighth grade, but Dad refuses to buy a new one because ‘we already have one here somewhere’?”

Annleigh rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. We’ll just assume you have a mild fever. You should probably get up to bed. D’you want some hot tea or something?”

“No, I’m fine.” Farrah reached for the decorative blanket Annleigh’s mother kept draped over the back of the couch and pulled it over her lap. “And can I maybe just… stay down here for a little bit?”

“I guess.” Annleigh reached for her bookmark and stood up. “I’m going to go get you a real blanket, though. I can see your leggings through that one.”

“Thanks.”

When Annleigh came back, Farrah had pulled out her phone and earbuds, but she looked up when Annleigh handed her the blanket. She opened her mouth, as if to say thank you, but then sneezed instead, hurriedly covering her mouth.

“Why don’t I get you some tissues?” Annleigh asked. “I think there’s a few boxes in the garage.”

Farrah nodded miserably. “That would be nice.”

For a while, they just sat in silence, Annleigh continuing to read and Farrah fiddling with her phone, sneezing and coughing every so often. As the sun began to set and the room began to darken, Farrah started to fidget until finally, she sighed and poked Annleigh with her blanket-covered foot to get her attention.

“Can I maybe take you up on your offer of hot tea?” she asked, a little bit hesitantly.

Annleigh leaned over and ruffled her hair the best she could with the ponytail. “Of course. What kind?”

“Um… chamomile? I don’t know, I don’t drink tea.”

“With honey?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” Annleigh got up and went into the kitchen, reaching for a Thermos - so Farrah didn’t have to risk spilling on the couch - and filling the kettle. She could still hear Farrah sniffling in the next room, and after a moment of indecision, she grabbed her keys off the counter, then stirred a spoonful of honey into Farrah’s tea and reached for her shoes as she walked to give her stepsister the Thermos.

Farrah eyed Annleigh’s keys. “Where are you going…?”

“I was thinking I would go get you some soup or something. You’ll be okay here on your own for a bit, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not a toddler.” Farrah blew gently into the Thermos. “But… are you sure? It’s getting dark.”

“I’m sure.” Annleigh grabbed her purse, hanging in the closet, and opened the front door. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Annleigh started to leave, but paused when Farrah called out again. “Annie?”

She looked back. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Annleigh smiled softly at her stepsister, who shyly smiled back. “Of course. Love you, Farrah.”

“Love you too.”

#we are the tigers #farrah watt #annleigh o'daniel #this has a quick reference to something i wrote a few weeks ago #this is really short but i hope you like it!!!#if whoever sent this prompt even reads it-#this prompt literally came in october 2020 lol

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

BABY MAMA

A/N: woke up and just knew i needed to write about dad Harry, bc lets be honest, he is my fav. this fic is perfectly fine as a oneshot, but if you'd like, it could be a sequel to Grammy Winner Husband and Baby Grammy, i wrote things to line up with them!

PAIRING: Husband!Harry / Dad!Harry x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

masterlist

The arena is blowing up, the fans are screaming from the top of their lungs and Harry is putting out a show just as good as the previous ones have been. He is blowing the stage up, singing, dancing, joking around with the fans, enjoying this time he gets to spend with the people who got him to this point in his life. He’ll never be not grateful for what he has, what he is experiencing, no matter how hard this life can get sometimes.

“Dallas, how are you feeling tonight?” he asks in the mic as he walks back to his water bottle to have a few sips. The crowd erupts, the screams almost burst his eardrums, but he just chuckles, easing his thirst with some water before he returns to the microphone stand.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he teasingly asks, though the reaction is the same. Insane screaming. “Alright, let’s move this show on before you get bored,” he chuckles playfully, the band starts playing the next song and he is back at what he does the best. Performing.

Though not far from the arena, there’s someone who thinks there’s something he is even better at than performing. That person is you, and you’re one hundred percent sure Harry is best at being a father to your five months old son.

Owning the stage, putting out the utter best he can, Harry’s thoughts still wander away from the show he is supposed to be focusing on. He can’t help it, his instincts are just completely drawn to his baby in the hotel suit, dying to know how he is doing. Leaving for the show late afternoon was harder than usually, because baby Theo was having a fever and coughing quite badly. His heart was breaking that he couldn’t help his son, didn’t even know what could be done for such a tiny baby.

“Love, he’ll be alright, okay? The doctor is on the way, it’s gonna be fine,” you told him gently as he was cradling Theo to his naked chest, always so eager to be skin-to-skin with him. Harry kissed his soft little curls on top of his head before nodding, though you knew it was eating him away.

“Call me or Jeff if something happens, okay?” he told you, handing Theo over to you, who was finally asleep after fussing for hours.

“I will,” you nodded, but he cupped your face to make you look at him.

“Y/N, I mean it. I’ll come off the stage if—“

“You won’t come off the stage, Theo is gonna be fine, he just probably got a cold from the aircon at the greenroom in Denver. He’ll be here when you get back, okay?”

He knew this tone, this was your momma bear voice and he would never argue with you when you used it, so he just nodded, kissed you and then Theo’s chubby cheek before heading out.

Now as he is nearing the end of the show he can’t help but think about finally being back at the hotel with his wife and baby, though he won’t let it be seen how eager he is to get off the stage.

The last song passes, the whole arena blows up from the energy and he is throwing kisses everywhere as he heads off the stage, down the aisle that leads him backstage. As he puts on his mask he turns around one last time, throwing some more kisses around to his beloved fans before disappearing behind the curtains.

“Did she call?” he instantly asks Jeff instantly, who hands him his phone over, a text from you already waiting for him.

Doc just left, everything is fine, left some meds for bub. Love you Xx

Even though this is what you told him before too, he feels relieved that the doctor confirmed it, but he still can’t wait to see the two of you.

“Alright, get the car ready, I’m leaving in ten,” he tells Jeff.

“Got it,” he nods, not even daring to argue with him. He knows better than to stand between Harry and his baby.

His legs bounce nervously on his way back to the hotel and he jumps out of the car as if it was on fire, running inside in a rush. He swipes the keycard through the reader on the door and opens it quietly, scanning over the place for you and Theo and there you are, sitting in one of the armchairs with his sleeping son in your arms, your hand gently tapping on his bum. You must have just finished feeding him, because a rag is still thrown over your shoulder and your shirt is all wrinkled around your chest. Theo loves playing with the fabric while you breastfeeding him and Harry loves watching his tiny fingers grab onto it and massaging it aimlessly.

“Hey,” he breathes out, quietly pushing the door closed behind him before he walks over, kneeling in front of you. He kisses Theo’s forehead first, before pressing his lips to yours too. “How is bub feeling?”

“He is doing good. The doc gave him some meds for the fever and we have a syrup for the coughing. He said he’ll be fine in a few days,” you softly explain to him, nodding towards everything the doctor left you on the coffee table.

Harry grabs the bottles, inspecting them as if he knows anything about medicine and you can’t help but smile as he furrows his eyebrows, reading the packaging.

“Want to put him to bed?” you ask him, his head snapping up right away.

“Of course,” he nods eagerly. You both stand up and he carefully takes the little boy from your arms without waking him up. “Hey bubs, I missed you,” he coos at Theo and as you watch him sway with the sleeping baby, your heart could easily burst from just the sight of them.

You didn’t know what life would be like as a family of three. After Harry posted a picture of you with his Grammy award and your belly ready to pop, the whole world went crazy over the fact that Harry Styles is going to be a dad. Despite the buzz, you managed to stay hidden for the rest of your pregnancy and just three weeks after that post, Theodore Styles decided to come to the world. Harry cancelled everything for the first two months, it was just the three of you, showering in the joys of parenthood. You had all the ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Then tour got rescheduled and Harry was hesitant whether it was a good idea to go on the road with a five months old.

“Sarah and Mitch are coming too, she gave birth a week after me,” you reasoned when Harry was about to cancel the whole tour. It took you some time to convince him that it’s gonna be fine, though you knew he would be extra cautious with Theo.

Now as you see him gently sway his way to the bassinet next to your bed, knowing that he just performed to thousands of people and now he is here with you and your son, you wouldn’t change it to some peace at home. Besides, you’re convinced tour is gonna do good for Theo, make him get used to people around him, not just the two of you or the grandparents and aunts. During the first night in Vegas, he barely spent an hour in your arms, everyone wanted a piece of him and you gladly let them befriend him, especially because he loves meeting new people, just like his daddy.

As Harry lays him into the bassinet and stands next to it with a lovesick smile on his face, you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smells so fresh, he surely had a quick shower before heading back to the hotel, but you’re already planning to seduce him to join you for a quick shower as well. He won’t say no.

“Watched a livestream for a bit, you were so good,” you hum, kissing his right shoulder blade and you don’t miss how he leans back against you. “Loved the shimmery outfit.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. Reaching around, he pulls you forwards so he can wrap you in his arms, kissing your forehead gently. “I missed seeing you dance at the side,” he smirks at you and you don’t miss the reference to the old times.

On his first solo tour, when you weren’t even married yet he often caught you dancing like crazy at the side of the stage, it would always make him laugh mid-song and you loved hearing his giggles through the mic, so you often did it on purpose. A few nights ago in Vegas you did the same, but with Theo in your arms, a massive ear protector on his head so the noise didn’t hurt him. When Harry spotted you, he almost started crying, he mouthed I love youand then carried on with the show.

“I’ll be there soon,” you smile at him, cupping his face in your hands to pull him down for a kiss that’s more than just a peck. “Now, I need help with something,” you mumble against his lips.

“Anything, baby.”

“I need you to help me shower,” you tell him cheekily. He pulls back and stares down at you with a playful grin, his hands already wandering under your shirt.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, I need someone to wash my back and… maybe somewhere else,” you hum seductively and start pulling him towards the bathroom, peeking at Theo one last time, but he is sleeping so deep, the two of you can have some alone time.

“Alright, I could never deny anything from my favorite milf,” he grins, but you smack his chest with a gasp.

“Harry! I told you not to call me that!” you protest, the two of you walking into the bathroom not to bother the sleeping baby in the room. You start running the water right away so it can be nice and hot for you when you walk in.

“Why? You are a milf,” he smirks, so full of himself, already pulling his shirt over his head.

“Then you’re a dilf, just so you know.”

“Baby, my fans have been calling me that for years, even before Theo,” he chuckles softly.

“You were destined to be a dad,” you giggle, getting rid of your own clothes. “Hey, if Theo feels better tomorrow, we could maybe take a walk in that park we saw on the way here,” you suggest, but when no answer comes, you look at Harry and find him just standing there, fully naked, staring at you grinning widely. “What?” you ask, glancing down at your own naked body. Suddenly, you are way too aware of the weight you haven’t been able to lose after giving birth, the stretch marks on your waist and how you’re not at all freshly shaved. Just as you’d move your hands to cover yourself a bit, Harry grabs your wrists and stops you.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he hums, dropping his head until his lips could reach yours.

“Stop being such a flirt,” you giggle, feeling your face heating up.

“It’s the truth! I have the prettiest baby mama and that’s a fact.”

He looks at you with so much love and adoration in those beautiful green eyes, it almost makes you cry, knowing that this man is your husband and you get to spend the rest of your life with him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him hard, pulling him into the spacious walk in shower.

“Then come and get your baby mama wet,” you giggle against his lips, making him laugh with the ambiguous request as he shuts the glass door behind him, his lips hungrily kissing wherever he can reach and you’re pretty sure the hot water is not the only thing that’s steaming up the glass.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #dad!harry

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

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Ayo... DOM! Deku with a choking and overstim kink. Like the baku AND DekuSquad both thinks that the reader leads the relationship and is top in bed cuz the difference in personalities and PDA. But the reader just goes along with it cuz she knows that it’s the exact opposite and she wanna get fucked fucked. So in the end the next school day they see the reader limping to school and Deku smiling cheeky. Bro Deku makes me😩 May you do a request to that? It’s ok if you won’t 😊

Question of the Day: What nicknames do y'all find not cringy during a steamy moment?

Cursing, squirting

It wasn’t your fault that people viewed you as the one in charge when it came to the sexual side of you and Izuku’s relationship. You were naturally more energetic and rivaled Bakugou in the terms of attitude and prowess, meanwhile, Deku was one of softer energy. Always smiling awkwardly and blushing at every little joke and jab. Very few people have seen Deku in his prime when he is focused on a goal and will do anything to get there. This attitude graciously carried over to his love life, something you were faithfully reminded of on one faithful day.

As usual, You, and the usual majority of class 1-A sat around each other during lunch. Deku being the nerd he was, sat leaning against you while writing something in his notebook, dusting it every so often when the wind blew flowers off the tree above you. An ethical argument between Mineta and Denki is what started the whole ordeal.

“What do you mean, Mineta?! Deku is totally the submissive one in his and Y/n’s relationship, no doubt about it!” Mineta shook his head adamantly. “I’m telling you, dude, it’s the super nice ones you have to worry about.” Denki gasped, offended, “I can’t believe you are saying this right now, have you no shame!”

Jirou rolled her eyes as she had no choice but to listen to the boy’s stupid conversation. “You do know Y/n is sitting right here right?” Based on the wide look on both of their eyes, they did not in fact realize that. Quickly looking at each other with narrowed features they dig in their pockets in order to retrieve their wallets. “20 bucks that say Y/n is topping Deku.” Mineta scoffed, “40 says you’re wrong.” they both shake on it before scooting closer to you. “So Y/n, which one of us is right.”

Looking between the two boys you open your mouth to answer the truth until you feel Deku shift his weight. He was looking at you, everyone was looking at you, all eager to hear who was right. A hand placed subtly on your back makes your smile widen, for a different reason than everyone else would guess. “Well, I can’t exactly say Denki is wrong, but I can’t say that he’s right.”

The blond whines in annoyance, “Oh come on what does that even mean!?!” While his attention is distracted, Mineta snatches the money from his hands, “That means you’re wrong now pay up.” Denki snaps out of his stupor in order to chase after his smaller classmate, “No the hell it doesn’t!” Now, with everyone’s attention being distracted to the slapstick comedy the two ensue, you realize that the hand you previously felt is gone. Deku is back to scribbling away in his notebook, giving you a false sense of relief.

“Man, Snipe is so aggressive when it comes to history!” Kirishima slouches in his chair knocking Bakugou’s hand as he eats out of a Yogurt cup. “Watch it shitty hair!” is the usual response, as the class congregates together. Asui calls you over to show you something but Deku steps in front of you before you fully stand. “Y/n since we have free time right now, I was hoping you could come and help me with something real quick.” He scratched the back of his head and looked over your head.

On the outside, it was just Deku being shy Deku, nothing suspicious about the ever-present blush he always sported was in full bloom. But from your point of view, it was obvious there was a different intent behind those eyes. “We’ll be back guys.” Deku mutters a hand settled comfortably on your waist as you walk out the door. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jirou watching the two of you leave with an eyebrow raised.

Deku guided you down the school halls, thumb rubbing shapes into your side. He said nothing as you walked, only waving and making small conversation with any familiar face you two passed by. After a long time, you two reach an unfamiliar classroom that Deku curiously peeks inside of. “So what are we doing?” “You’ll see.” Deku ushers the two of you inside before closing and locking the door shut. The mood seems to shift almost immediately.

Deku has a lazy smile on his face as he tugs on his school tie, “So what was that conversation you and Kaminari were having earlier?” Your arms tingle with goosebumps, “I don’t know what you’re referring to.” While Izuku talked, his uniform coat is placed neatly on a nearby desk table, the sleeve of his collared shirt was rolled up and out of the way. “Yeah, I figured you would say that, that’s why I wrote it down to help refresh your memory.”

Deku sits down on a desk, motioning you over to him with a twitch of his fingers. A small notebook you hadn’t noticed till now was pulled from his back pocket before being flipped through. When you stood in front of him, his hand resumed its place on your waist so he could pull you much closer. “According to my notes, Kaminari and Mineta were debating on who was in charge of our relationship.” The more he spoke, the more aware you became of his fingers tapping randomly on your back, each touch tickled your spine, “And in response, you encouraged Kaminari’s theory that you were the one in charge.” Deku snapped the notebook closed with one hand before placing it on the other side of your waist forcing you to face him. “Is that right?”

You are silent when Deku’s scarred hands undo your shirt buttons from the bottom up. “I just thought it was interesting that your answer was different from what my memory recalls.” Izuku sucks in a breath when he sees your black lace bra. The fabric covering your chest conveniently hid the faded hickeys he knew he left 3 weeks ago. “Take this off for me?” The soft tone took you off guard making you pause confused as Deku gently tugged off your shirt and tie. He stands up folding your clothes as you fiddle with your bra straps. “I’m done?” You turn around to hand him your bra but squeak out in surprise when his hand grips your neck.

He keeps his hand there as he backs you up, forcing you to sit on the desk he was previously on. “I’m curious….” Deku trails off in his speech, using the time to kiss you deeply, hand never leaving your neck. “Since you are always the one in charge, I figure that maybe I should finally put in the work and make you feel good?” Deku pulls the chair from underneath the desk and sits down, legs spread. “Well, what are you waiting for, come here?” Your stomach flips as you slide off the table, the stale cool air of the classroom makes your skin prickle with goosebumps as Deku faces you the opposite way in order for you to sit comfortably in his lap.

“Deku what if we get caught?” You nervously glance at the classroom door, the lack of a peeking window putting you somewhat at ease. You were the only one exposed and if someone were to come through that door, they would see your half-naked body in all its glory. A hovering hand grabs the ends of your faux locs to pull your head back so he could whisper in your ear. “I’m sure they’ll understand that I’m just trying to pay you back for all my laziness.”

You bite your lips coyly. He was annoyed, you could definitely hear it now from his sarcastic remarks. But that didn’t make you regret your earlier choice, not one bit, and Deku knew that. The real excitement came from seeing how long it would last.

The gentleness returned when he grabbed your chest, massaging and pulling at them for his own enjoyment before releasing them in order to slide down your stomach. As expected he pinches the skin hard between his fingers and then releases before you even have enough time to complain.

“Just relax okay?” Deku places each of your thighs atop of his, successfully spreading your legs apart. You suppressed laughter whenever his fingers grazed your skin just lightly enough that it tickled, there was no need to give him a reason to be more upset. “Wearing briefs again today?”

Your pussy is palmed without restriction as deft fingers rub at the soft cotton protecting it. “Now how am I supposed to get to you now huh?” You knew the unspoken answer, and Deku knew you hated it as he clenched his fingers into the fabric until it ripped, “Oops.” You shook your head pouting at the unfair treatment, “Why do you always have to do that, now I have to be extra careful of my skirt!”

Strike one was raising your voice.

The touch was quick but still ever so stinging. Deku slapped your pussy in response before using his other hand to hold your neck, firmly tipping it up to the ceiling. “If you would have stopped wearing underwear entirely we wouldn’t be having this conversation, you know I like easy access.” The lack of visible reaction meant nothing since you could almost feel the blood rushed to your face. Deku kisses your neck determined to add marks that you could never hide. Your dark skin peppered with purple bruises while Izuku simultaneously rolled your skirt up to your waist.

You were already wet, the small nibbles here and there were enough for your clit to twitch excitedly as Izuku’s fingers danced around it. “Please touch me!” A warm chuckle vibrated from his chest at your desperate plea, “Calm down and relax Princess. I’ll get you where you need to be.” Deku continues to ignore your clit. His fingers, ever precise, slide between your folds in order to collect your arousal. The feeling adds some pleasure but only enough to make you more desperate. “Look at you.”

Deku observed your hips buck every whenever he got close to your clit. The small nerve swelling with blood and begging to be touched, and who would he be to deny that. It was heaven on earth when he finally put pressure on it. “Mhm!” His fingers combined with your wetness as extra lubrication provided the most pleasurable feeling. You wanted to clamp your legs shut and trap him there, but his much thicker thighs kept you wide open and on display.

Deku was never one to do anything half-assed, so while his fingers flicked and pulled at your clit, his other hand got to work. However, your twitching made you clench down whenever his finger barely pushed inside, “You gotta calm down baby, how else am I going to make you cum?” Soft soothing words made you just enough for him to push his index finger inside. Your cunt was tight, warm, and irresistible. The steady pump of his fingers has you closing your eyes as you relax against him like jelly.

Deku knew your pussy like the back of his hand at this point, every ripple, nook, and cranny he knew how to touch in order to make your toes curl. He adds another finger to the mixture, then another, and a fourth one until you are gushing around his digits and onto the floor. You were a slutty mess and no intelligible words could leave your mouth but “please” and “thank you”.

And while exhibitionism was one thing he had no problem with, Deku respected the fact that you would probably not be too keen to it. “You’re being too loud puppy.” Deku retracts his hand in favor of shoving his fingers in your mouth. You could taste yourself as he pushed them in further, rubbing it along your tongue as drool rolled down his forearm.

The sound of his finger fucking your pussy was wet and sticky, It took a large effort on his part to hold you against him every time your back arched away. “I’m cumming!” Your stomach contorted beautifully against his estranged wrist. “There you go.” Izuku kissed on the shell of your ear as you adjusted past your orgasms. “Are you done?”

You turn your head to kiss him, “Yeah..” He nodded, patting your cheek, “That’s good.” Izuku helps you stand up, helping you when you wobbled ever so slightly. You look at him unsure of the constant smile adorning his face, “Now what?” Izuku slouched a little bit more, “Now you get on your knees of course!”

You only have a moment to ponder what he said before a hand on your shoulder is forcing you down to your knees. It was quick enough for you not to feel the pain of your knees slamming down, but not quick enough to see the smirk crossing your initially sweet lover.

He was already hard as a rock when you pulled him out, cockhead with a steady stream of pre coming out the tip. You admired it with a small kitten lick around the edge, pleased when it bobs from your ministrations. “You are taking too long now put it in your fucking mouth.” Your head is pressed down less than gracefully and you are forced to open your mouth less his dick be smeared against your face.

Your mouth spreads as best it could while Deku sheathed all the way down to the base. He pulls out once again as if testing the waters before letting you up for a quick breath. “For someone in charge, you aren’t very good at this.” Deku uses a patronizing finger to wipe stray saliva off your chin before gripping your chin. “Maybe this will help you learn.” Using one hand Deku uses his cock to tap your mouth expectantly. Your mouth opens on reflex and his cock is pushed back in. Deku sighs with satisfaction, “Fuck, your mouth has always been good for this.” The tempo isn’t as bruising as it was in the beginning but it was still harsh.

Tears collected in your eyes ruining the mascara Momo had put on your eyes. Your throat burned from the constant friction and lack of air. “You hear that? This was what you should have said when they had asked you who was in charge.” Deku looked at you, his curly green hair covering his eyes as shook from his arm movement. “Look at those pretty lips.” Deku flinched after you swiped your tongue on the underside of his cock.

His voice sped up in the momentum and pitched in tone, “Y-You tryna make me cum fast huh!?” You bobbed your head faster despite the tight grip on your scalp trying to pull you away, “F-Fuck Y/n stop it!” Izuku’s voice caved and his hips jerked against your chin as he emptied his balls. You wipe your face with a large grin, brown eyes daring green ones. Izuku laughed, “You wanted this huh?” You don’t respond, skin tingling in the thought of what would come next. Deku stared at you, hands gripping his knees as his dick continued to spurt cum. “Fine.”

Deku stands up before dropping to his knees in front of you. Your calves are grabbed and raised until they are placed on his left shoulder. He slides inside of you with little to no resistance and you both groan at the intrusion. “I try to be nice to you.” Your neck is grabbed again with much familiarity, “But you always test my patience.” Deku leans over you to make sure you are listening. His eyes were a light green as sunlight cast itself inside of the classroom. The sound of your hips meeting is sloppy but neither of you are bothered by it.

You moaned as his abdomen rubbed against your clit the faster he went. “Deku!” Your voice is ragged and you’re practically wheezing at this point from the tight grip he has on every inch of your body. “Shut up.” He releases your neck and spreads your legs apart resting each on its respective shoulder. With entranced eyes Izuku watches you suck him in, sneering at how unintentionally greedy you were. The sound of spit startles you as it hits Deku’s cock before being pushed inside you.

You spasm at a particularly hard thrust, you didn’t know what it hit but your spine lit to flames each time it was grazed. “D-Deku!” You reach a hand out near any piece of skin you could reach, switching from his hands to his stomach. It was too much, the feeling of pleasure made it damn near impossible to think. Deku didn’t want you to think. Every time you seemed to think, you always caused him trouble. “I told you to be quiet.” Your mouth is covered almost completely by his hand only giving you the grace of air between his index and middle finger. You cum and you cum hard, so hard that Deku slips out and almost slips into your opposite hole.

Your leg is dragged back and Deku enters you again, this time only focused on himself. You feel him piston in and out of your cunt grunting obscenities as he closed his eyes with bliss. “Come on, I want one more like that. I need you to break for me.” In the distance, you hear the hour bell ring and the sound of students leaving their classroom. You have no energy to warn Deku, not that it would have mattered. Based on the pleasured look on his face and the heightened sound of his whines, the idea of getting caught only made him feel better. “I’m gonna, o-h fuck I’m gonna fucking cum.”

You let out a scream when a thumb finds your clit and your weak hands could do nothing to keep him from forcing another orgasm from you. “Don’t fucking run from it, cum for me puppy, oh god!” He covers your mouth to stifle your noises and that’s when the sensation begins.

The sensation is strange, it starts in your lungs like air before trickling down to your loins. The feeling of holding it back is painful but you still do it for only a moment of sanity. When it releases, it gushes like a waterfall, and for a moment you wonder if you had peed. When Deku feels it, he too is unable to hold back and finally cums inside of you with a reserved grunt when he realizes the danger of discovery.

Wasting no time and feeling no fatigue, Deku moves fast to find his own pants and shirt taking barely any time to pull your skirt down before giving you 4 minutes tops to learn how to breathe again. “Stand up.” You huff as you prop yourself up on your elbow, “You could at least help a girl out after fucking me an inch of my life.” Deku shrugs, “Logically speaking you did this to yourself.” “Logically speaking I should shove my foot up your ass.”

On the way back to class, Deku took pleasure in watching you walk bowlegged. You of course didn’t share the sediment as you did your best to hold in any cum Deku graciously left behind. He opens the door for you and you walk in doing your best to walk right but the limp was clear and true. Bakugou looked bored, the rest had blushes on their faces as you struggled to sit down properly. Denki, of course, was heartbroken as he handed Mineta back his part of the bet. “I told you, dude, it’s always the silent ones.”

From the back of the class, Asui and Jirou shoot each other an impressed look as they eyes the dark lovebites traveling below your shirt collar.

#deku smut #deku x black reader #mha x black reader #mha smut #bnha x poc!reader #bnha smut

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

You belong with me

so i decided to post wadsworth first. modern au cressworth- you belong with me taylor swift

Thomas throws his phone down on the bed with frustration swirling around him as he paces. I set down my pen and wait till he turns and spots me. We often find ourselves talking via paper throughout the nights, from questions about our day to helping each other study. It is also often we watch each other be angry at something, yet I've not seen him this bad before. Finally Thomas turns and catches my eye. He stands there for a second before smiling and I quickly move around my various workbooks till I find my notebook I use to talk to him. I take my sharpie and write: ‘Are you okay?’

I watch him shake his head ever so slightly, seemingly baffled at it, but he walks to his window and opens it. The wind brushes his deep brown hair and I can't help but want to reach out and run my hand through it. I curse myself for it as he motions for me to open my window. Moving my books and pens off of me and cursing at my stiff leg as I go and open the window. Somehow I manage to hit my arm in the process and I curse, which makes Thomas laugh slightly so I forgive my body for hurting me.

“You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” he teases and I relax slightly because of it.

“Fuck you,” I scowl at his smirk and the frigid wind. His eyes light up at my temper. We live across from one another, if we were to reach out we could hold hands. Which we have done. When I got rejected from the specific school I was desperate to go to, Thomas had managed to climb into my room and hold me as I cried. He's only ever needed to climb over twice to cheer me up, the other times have been to study or watch some romance programme he thought was good. I hoped wherever was troubling was something that wouldn't resort to me having to climb over. As much as I would want to, my brain may have a hard time letting me attempt it.

“I assume dear Wadworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” he asks, eyes focused on behind me and fingers tapping his window sill as he sits. I watch as his cat, ridiculously named Sir Isaac Mewton, jumps off his bed and onto his seat next to him. He grabs the cat and kisses the top of his head before holding him in his lap.

“Perhaps,” I say, moving so I rest my head on the wall, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” his eyes shift to mine and despite him still being angry they soften at my attempt at humour. I am not as good as Thomas at using humour to help someone, but he always does it for me.

“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” he smiles down at his cat. I remember the day he brought him home, he made me go over to his house and we spent all night playing with him. Thomas did, I ended up studying and making notes for the both of us while he gave Sir Isaac a ‘grand tour’ of his new home. The smile vanishes off Thomas's face and once again his gaze goes past me. “I assume you saw the call, well that was William. Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumour that I'm with Miss Whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I watch him scoff, anger once again taking over his features. His cat nuzzles into him and Thomas leans into his cat. If I wasn't also mad now I'd smile at the sight.

“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?”

“Yes.”

“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' I find myself standing and pacing, trying to quell my own rising anger. A year ago, William had been my lab partner for a few weeks, he was friendly, but people had got it in their head that we were somehow together, and he went with it. Gossiped about me, even Thomas, and then was somehow enraged I dared to stop those rumours and be angry at him. I'd come home one day when it was particularly too much, when my father had found out and lectured me about it, as though I was in the wrong for standing up for myself. He'd cancel my lesson with my uncle out of spite, and I stormed upstairs. Thomas had been at the window, as if he was expecting me. One look at his face made me cry. I managed to open my window and he'd once again climbed in and held me as I cried. Then he made us watch this awful romance film together and held me still as I fell asleep on him.

“I have never once,” Thomas says, dragging me back from those awful memories, “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” He drags a hand through his hair. “She's just- a lot.”

I huff a sigh. She is awful. Had been awful to Liza and I for years. With her short skirts, high heels and the most rotten attitude I have ever witnessed. It wasn't often that I'd hate someone like that, someone so different from me in nearly every way, but she has tried to make me feel that I don't belong because of my interest in science and not the traditional girl interests.. “That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Beside, you wouldn't work, she's too- your,” I have no idea how to explain how excellent Thomas is, how wonderful his mind is and how kind he is. It's not a side he shows to most, yet if he was ever with someone like Whitehall, it would be disastrous. I take my seat again and find him looking at me, suppressing a smirk and raising an eyebrow at me. “What?” I ask. I shrink under his gaze, pulling my hoodie over my legs as I curl in on myself.

“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”

“Your absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” I roll my eyes as he shifts so he is fully facing me, eyes completely focused, no sign of the anger he had only moments ago, “your too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” don’t belong with her.

Ever since he mentioned the idea of being with someone else, real or not, I have tried to ignore how much it pained me that he would be with someone else. I never expected to want to be with him, yet lately the premise of dating him has seemed very pleasing to me.

“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” his voice is deeper than normal and his gaze travels over me even though his eyes are on my own. Thomas pats Sir Issac and his cat jumps off behind him with a whine. His hand reaches out for mine and I lean forward, wind making my loose strands of hair fly across my face. His hands are warm as I take them but his smile warms me more. It is small but genuine and filled with the normal Cresswell charm mixed with something I can't quite name.

“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.”

“I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-” he looks down contemplating his words before he once again locks his gaze on mine, his dark brown eyes bright, “I dont belong with her, your right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.”

I blink at the honesty. I want to scream that you belong with me; but if Thomas is in love with someone else then I suppose I will have to find a way to deal with it. I try to keep the hurt of my face even as he smiles at me.

“I-” Thomas lets go of my hand and stands. There's a silence between us until he motions for me to move. The idiot is going to climb into my house so he can tell me about his new found love. Like the fool I am, I'm going to let him talk about this girl who makes him look this happy. Even though it hurts that it's not me who is making him look like that. Even though I'm the one who makes him laugh when he is angry or upset. Even though I'm the one who knows his favourite songs, the books beside his bed and all his hopes and dreams.

He climbs over and sets himself on the window sill, giving me room to sit across from him. I do, even as I try to ignore the weight pressing down on my chest. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I say and mean it. I once again curl into myself, hoodie covering my legs as i watch him continue to smile at me,

“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”

“Wait,” I blurt out, my mind catching up, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”

“Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” He starts laughing at my gaping mouth until I collect myself enough to scowl at him slightly for laughing. Thomas reaches out for my hand, moving closer to me until my back is pressed against the wall, my hoodie no longer over my legs as he rests his other hand on my leg, warmth seeping through me. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.”

Silence washes over us as we stare, trying to convince ourselves this is really happening. “I have something to show you.” My voice is barely about a whisper and I slide out of his grasp even though I don't want to. I walk to my bed where all my notebooks were left open and my notebooks sits. I open it out and let a piece of paper fall out. Facing Thomas I open the sheet slowly, watch him read the words. His eyes lit up at them.

I love you.

I take my place beside him again, his hands finding their way in mine once again. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time. Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Thomas just stares at me, eyes flicking down to my lips every now and then. His hands are making circles on my leg, not entirely intentional. Thomas has always shown if he is excited or nervous by either tapping or making shapes on surfaces. The world slows completely as he leans in and presses his lips against mine. He pulls back ever so slightly, resting his head against mine and we are both smiling wildly at each other, pressing kisses until he leans further away. Thomas goes back to his side of the wall, which may as well be across the other side of the world, then he pulls me to him and I twist so that my back is against his. He holds me as we both look out the window, enjoying the freeing feeling of telling each other how we feel.

“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.”

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @padfoot-sirius-black-blog @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @throneofsc @bookscressworth

#sjtr #hpd #efh #btdp #ctd #stalking jack the ripper #hunting prince dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil #thomas cresswell #cresswell #audrey rose #audrey rose wadsworth #wadsworth #cressworth #kerii maniscalco #you belong with me

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ssahotchhner · 3 years

Text

angel of spite

hi, i wrote a quick little something about the reader intentionally making hotch jealous as revenge. i hope you like it (: i'll be working on a few requests in my inbox next. i also finally made a masterlist which i'll link below!

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

You supposed you should have known better than to spite Aaron for staying at the office too late, again. You had simply texted him that since he was going to be working late to not expect you to be there when he got home. Maybe that had been unfair to him, and you were normally so patient with his work schedule, but the last three nights in a row he had promised to be home for date night and continually cancelled last minute. Tonight, you had gotten angry when he texted you yet again, apologizing and saying he would be back late.

He tried calling you over an hour after you had sent the text message, having just then seen it in the throws of a difficult case, but you didn’t pick up. He tries to push down the flare of annoyance he feels, after all, this was the third time he had flaked on you. But still, you were acting like a child. He also knew part of the reason you were doing this was because you knew it would piss him off.

All he wanted at the end of a hard day was to see you waiting in bed for him with open arms. He put on a big show of being the dominant one in the relationship, but both of you knew Aaron became putty in your hands when you gently scratched at his scalp and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. You purposely took that away from him, knowing it was one of the only things that could get him through a tough work day. The more he sat at his desk trying to work, constantly checking his phone to see if you’d called or texted again (you hadn’t) the more angry he became. In fact, he stormed out of the BAU without saying goodbye to anyone without finishing his report.

He called you over and over again until you started sending him straight to voicemail. And so by the time he’s able to make an educated guess about what bar you’re in, his rage ripples off him in waves. He flashes his FBI badge to the bouncer to get inside without waiting in line, something he’s definitely not supposed to do, and heads up the elevator to the rooftop. Once up there, he heads straight to the bar. He scans the room quickly, but you’re nowhere to be found. Until, across the room, sparkling golden crescent moons dangled from someone’s ear. Aaron knew those earrings, he had bought them for you for your birthday this year. And standing in front of you is a broad, tall man. Not as tall as Aaron, but he was built a bit wider than Aaron, as if to make up for it. You sit on the arm of the couch, you look relaxed, your legs open just enough to get the man that was in front you salivating.

When your eyes settled on him, you couldn’t help the cocky smile that lit up your mouth. Unbridled fury filled his face when he saw the lawyer in front of you that was clearly wondering what you’d let him do to you in bed. You sigh as Aaron begins walking over you and turn to look at the lawyer, “I’m really sorry about this.” You say, cutting off whatever he was saying.

He frowns at you, “What?”

But Aaron was here now, “Hi baby,” You say sweetly, “I didn’t think you were going to make it tonight.”

He gives you a withering look as if to say I’ll deal with you later, before turning to the lawyer. “This is Ronnie, he’s a lawyer.”

Ronnie stared from Aaron, who was still silent, to you and back again. “And… who is this?” He refers to Aaron.

You open your mouth, but Aaron speaks first, “Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU. I’m also her boyfriend.” He gives the lawyer a look that anyone in opposition to the unit chief had experienced many times over the course of his career.

I’m sorry, you were mouthing to Ronnie from behind Aaron’s shoulder. “She didn’t mention a boyfriend.” Ronnie says.

You sigh, leave it to you to pick the one guy in this room that would decide to challenge Aaron Hotchner rather than just apologizing and walking away, “Oh, you idiot.” You murmur.

Aaron tilts his head to the side in an almost predatory way, “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”

“I’m suggesting that the lady obviously doesn’t want you since she didn’t mention you, Mister FBI.”

“Oh, God help us.” You shake your head and say into your lap and the next time you look up Aaron’s fist has connected with the man’s face and whiskey had splashed on the floor and your ankles. At that your eyes widen, “Aaron, what the fuck?” Aaron had given many men that flirted with you a firm talking to, sometimes escalated to yelling, but never in the entire time that you’d known him had Aaron physically hurt anyone who had advanced on you.

Aaron puts a firm hand on your wrist as a commotion begins to gather around the two of you and pulls you away. He doesn’t speak as he practically drags you out to the back door, down several flights of stairs and out another door behind the building. Once the cold night air hits you, you pull your wrist away from him, “What the hell did you do that for?”

“Did you want him to fuck you?” He practically growls.

“No,” You say, exasperated, “Aaron, we play this game all the time, you’ve never hit someone.”

“You’ve never deliberately gone out of your way to flirt with someone else.”

It was true, you supposed. You always let the men come up to you if they were interested, but you never were the one to initiate. Why would you when no one would compare to Aaron anyway? Today you had come here with specific intentions to speak with someone that would piss off Aaron. “You’re right,” You admit softly, “I’m sorry, I just… I wanted you to feel what I’ve been feeling.”

“Do you think I enjoy coming home late and not spending time with you?”

“Yes, I do! You love your job!”

“So you behave like a child because you’re jealous of my job?”

When he says it out loud like that, it sounds ridiculous and your eyes water, “Yes.” You say quietly, “Because I need to make sure you still want me just as much as your job.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Honey, of course I do, but I can’t control when I have more paperwork or a heavier caseload than usual.”

You feel deflated and stupid all of a sudden with the condescension that’s written so clearly on Aaron’s face. “Whatever, let’s just go home.”

“Sweetheart—“

“I don’t want to talk about it. Did you drive the SUV here?”

He looks at you hopelessly and then sighs, “Yes.”

You let him walk a couple of steps ahead of you the whole way, not wanting to let him hold your hand if you were close enough. He did open the car door for you, but you didn’t look at him as you climbed in.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t consider your feelings more this week when I cancelled our dates.” Aaron says. You remain quiet. “I’m nearly certain I’ll be off work this weekend. I’ll make it up to you then.”

You can’t help the roll of your eyes, “You have to stop making me promises that you can’t keep. We all know you’ll probably get a case in the middle of the weekend.”

His fingers flex on the steering wheel, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Aaron, I’m not even mad about you not being here all the time. I accepted that when we first started dating. I just hate when you promise you’ll do something and then you don’t do it. We planned this dinner weeks and weeks ago and you swore to me you’d get it off. And then we had to reschedule the reservation three nights in a row and you still didn’t show. Then you do show up, but only for the chance to be mad at me and condescend me which just tells me that you could have left work tonight if you wanted to. That’s why I’m mad.”

He supposed you were right. He had ended up leaving work early because he was upset with you. He knew that hadn’t been your intention, you had expected him to quietly stew in his anger until the next morning or until you had come home that night. But he had done it all the same, unable to bear even the idea of you flirting with another man in his absence. He figured it had to do with previously being cheated on because of his job, but he knew you would never do that. Knew that your relationship wasn’t fundamentally broken in that way, could tell by the way adoration still glowed in your eyes when he came home every night. But if he wasn’t careful, he wondered if you ever would. Just the thought had his knuckles whitening as he clenched the steering wheel. It was this thought that had made him punch that lawyer back at the bar.

When you arrive home, you get out of the car without waiting for Aaron, unlocking the door before he’s even out of the car and heading inside, heels in hand. Jack was sleeping at a friend’s house tonight as it was supposed to be date night. You don’t slam the bedroom door, but you close it as Aaron is walking down the hallway which in his mind is the same thing. He stops in the middle of the hallway, wondering if he should go in anyway. A minute later, he hears the intro to The Phantom of the Opera blaring from your bedroom.

He sighs, “Fuck.” He murmurs to himself and turns away from the room. Your mutual love of the theater had been something the two of you had bonded over early in the relationship. Aaron had learned quickly there was a specific stage performance of Phantom of the Opera that you turned to for comfort. If he ever came home to it playing, he knew you had had a bad day. Rarely, though, had you put it on after a fight with him.

He heads to the kitchen and turns on the electric kettle figuring he’d better come into the bedroom with your favorite tea if he was going to brave it at all. He sits down as he waits, resting his head in his hands. The two of you rarely ever fight and so Aaron is still trying to figure out how to do that with you in a productive way.

The kettle switches off and he pours the boiling water into your favorite mug, dunking your favorite tea bag before leaving it to steep. He takes a deep breath before picking up the mug and walking to the bedroom. When he enters, you don’t look at him until he stops by your nightstand, noticing he brought you tea. The gesture is sweet and so you sigh and pause the show.

“Hi.” You say softly to your boyfriend who’s still standing next to you.

“Hi.” He says gently, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You say, and he knows it’s a test.

“For making promises I know I can’t keep. For leaving work early after I told you I wouldn’t be able to solely to punch whatever man wanted to sleep with you. For patronizing you.”

You cover your hand with his, “And I’m sorry for flirting to intentionally make you upset. You know I’d never actually do that, right?”

Aaron looks down at your hands, “I saw the way you had spread your legs for him, just a little bit, and I…” He sighs, “I never told you this, but my last wife cheated on me because I wasn’t around enough and seeing you like that, I guess I just…” He trailed off shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

“Baby,” You say softly, eyes wide, “I’m so sorry, I had no idea… I never would’ve done that if I had known.”

“I know.” He gives you a small smile.

“Why don’t you come lay down and tell me about your day?”

His smile grows and he crawls into bed, laying his head in your lap and your fingers begin combing through his hair as he talks about the case.

#mine #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x reader #hotch angst #hotch fluff #hotch imagine #hot chocolate

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foodbytesback · 4 years

Text

The Rise and Fall of Bon Appetit

Sometimes life comes at you fast. Sometimes, that means stories in the food industry break in such rapid succession that you have no time to blink in between. Sometimes, it means someone found out about something racist you did a few years ago. What happens when it’s both? Ask the fine folks at Bon Appetit.

In recent years, Bon Appetit made a name for itself, rising from the ashes of dying print media, through its Youtube channel featuring a diverse cast of personalities. But over the course of this past week, many of the publication’s executives have been found to foster a toxic workplace culture, rife with racism, sexism and homophobia.

Before I get too deep (because this is going to be a long one), I feel the need to point out that while this story’s breaking happened to coincide with Black Lives Matter protests across the country and gained traction from people’s outrage towards inequality, the events that have unfolded should not be blamed on “cancel culture,” “political correctness run amok” or any other reactionary dismissal of critical thinking. Adam Rapoport didn’t lose his job because Black Lives Matter, Black Lives Matter came to be because of the damage that many in positions of power like Rapoport have done in both mainstream media and society as a whole.

[Also, yes, there are going to be a lot of links to Instagram posts that have been screenshotted and uploaded to Twitter. Clearly the real takeaway from this debacle is that I need to get an Instagram account. Also also, thanks to Tumblr’s new rules about offsite links, you’ll have to go to my main site for the full receipts.]

Preamble

Shortly after the killing of George Floyd, Adam Rapoport, Editor-in-Chief at Bon Appetit, wrote an editorial highlighting some of the coverage they’ve given to black chefs. Many criticized this as being superficial and performative, with others saying that BA has, on numerous occasions, shut down articles relating to black culture for not being “trendy” enough or otherwise was discriminatory towards black employees. (Also, the repeated use of “uprisings” instead of “protests” seems a little suspicious.)

An article from Eater criticized the role BA played in the appropriating and whitewashing of many cultures’ ingredients and cuisines (gochujang, Aleppo pepper, and sumac seem to be some of BA’s favorite ingredients) that had become prevalent in food media in recent years.

While it’s a fairly minor offense in comparison, it may also be worth bringing up the time Rapoport accidentally called Priya Krishna “Sohla,” the name of his other Indian employee.

Monday, June 8th

Food writer Tammie Teclemariam posted a screencap of an Instagram post made by Rapoport’s wife, which depicted the two of them donning Puerto Rican stereotypes as Halloween costumes, brownface and all.

Many were quick to declare their outrage and demand that Rapoport either resign or be fired. Meanwhile, Sohla El-Waylly, one of the leading stars of the Youtube channel, was one of the first BA employees to speak up, and disclosed that this kind of behavior was just the tip of the iceberg. She said that BIPOC workers have been paid disproportionately for their work, including not being paid a per-video commission that the white stars of the Youtube channel receive.

Molly Baz, one of the aforementioned white stars, announced that she would no longer make videos for BA until all of El-Waylly’s demands were met. One by one, their white coworkers chimed in in agreement.

Former staff photographer Alex Lau also wrote an extensive tweet thread about his experiences at BA, including how he had futilely tried to fix the system from within.

By the end of Monday, Adam Rapoport had resigned from his position as Editor-in-Chief.

Tuesday, June 9th

Since Rapoport’s official resignation did little to fix many of the systemic problems in place at BA, many began to turn their attention to other senior members of the staff.

Some came for Andrew Knowlton, the Restaurant Editor, for behaviors such as gaslighting an employee for trying to bring up racist practices in the offices.

Others called out Matthew Duckor, a VP at Conde Nast and BA’s former “Head of Video” (Did a 3 year old come up with that job title?), for a series of old racist and homophobic tweets. He tried to apologize by saying that he was young and didn’t know any better at the time, but many were quick to point out that he was, at the youngest, 20, aka for all intents and purposes An Adult when he wrote those tweets.

Tammie Teclemariam returned to ask current and former BA employees to DM her information about Duckor that they didn’t want to go public with themselves, ranging from his hand in the aforementioned pay disparity to making inappropriate comments towards women.

Teclemariam also did even more social media muckraking and found that Drinks Editor Alex Delany had once decorated a cake to look like a Confederate flag, while others found things like a Vine where he says the f-slur and some questionable comments about women on this Tumblr. He later deleted his Tumblr and Twitter, and issued a cookie-cutter apology on his Instagram.

She also vague-tweeted that Brad Leone, one of the most beloved stars of the Youtube channel, is “possibly not a great guy,” but later added, “don’t fret.” At that point, some began to accuse her of just trying to stir the pot.

Ultimately, Matt Hunziker, director and camera operator for Leone’s show, reported that the higher ups were ignoring the situation regarding the pay disparity, and that they were not “learning and growing.”

Wednesday, June 10th

By this point, journalists were able to do more thorough investigations and put together exposés that were more than a blurb about an accusation followed by a nut graph.

Business Insider published an article where they interviewed 14 current and former BIPOC employees of Bon Appetit. In addition to information already discussed above, it also described events such as an incident where several BIPOC staffers were told they weren’t allowed the test kitchen. (Carla Lalli Music, the Food Director at the time, would later defend her stance in the affair on Twitter.) Ryan Walker-Hartshorn, a black woman who served as Rapoport’s personal assistant, recalled that she would often spend her day doing menial tasks like polishing her boss’s golf clubs or trying to teach his wife how to use Google Calendar. In another incident, Knolton called Rick Martinez a “one trick pony” for only developing Mexican recipes, which is what he was being forced to do so BA could tout “diversity” bonus points. Martinez would also say that the magazine under Rapoport’s tenure “went from old and irrelevant and white-washed content to young and trendy white-washed content." (Martinez would also upload a more graphic description of the treatment he received to his Instagram that same day.) Later that day, Business Insider would also report that Duckor had left the company.

Vice would liken Rapoport to Michael Scott from The Office, but noted that that kind of bumbling, endearingly insensitive bad boss archetype isn’t as charming in the real world where real employees are being affected. Parallels were also drawn between the Youtube channel and The Office itself, stating that the “quirky workplace” facade put on in the videos helped hide the more sinister practices that lurked beneath the surface, and that the notion that they were “one big family” often pressured BIPOC into doing more than their fair share for the greater good.

Jezebel showed email transcripts where Rapoport argued the semantics of having his costume be called “brownface” when he wasn’t wearing makeup, and had to be explained to, like a child, that the term refers to the racist caricature and not the literal act of putting brown makeup on one’s face. What a douche.

Bon Appetit published an official apology on their site, a whole two days after the controversy began. Many believed that their empty promises of “learning from their mistakes” were a day late and a dollar short.

Meanwhile, on Twitter, former BA writer Alyse Whitney said that senior editor Andy Baraghani had, on several occasions, used his influence to undermine her efforts. Whether this had to do with racism, sexism, or just Andy being petty is up for debate, but still constitutes as unprofessional behavior to say the least.

Thursday, June 11th

As interest in the story seemed to wane for many in the industry, Claire Saffitz, arguably the face of the Youtube channel, released another statement on her Instagram. She said that her relative silence was due to taking time to find the right words, and that the same-old promises to “learn and grow” that most had been giving felt empty and performative. Unlike many of her white coworkers, she directly apologized for being complicit in the toxic environment and for not using her status to try to leverage even pay for her BIPOC coworkers.

Another BA Youtube personality, Amiel Stanek, also released a statement in response to BA’s official press release, where he demanded Conde Nast to stop avoiding action by setting vague timelines for changes or making excuses for not giving BIPOC workers raises like “the money just isn’t there.”

Associate editor Christina Chaey also opened up about her experiences with being pushed into more and more videos to “diversify” them- all without compensation.

Friday, June 12th

The biggest scandal of the day was that, as Teclemariam predicted, Brad Leone is possibly not a great guy. A leaked screenshot of an Instagram DM showed him making callous, almost Trump-y comments regarding El-Waylly’s demand for better pay. He also allegedly said that if Delany were to be fired (as of that day he had been sent on leave), he would quit.

Saturday, June 13th

The New York Times published an article suggesting that the issues prevalent in BA’s management may go all the way to the top of Conde Nast. Highlights include Chief Executive Roger Lynch chastising the whistleblowers within the company for raising their concerns in such a public manner and an account of an incident where he gave his black assistant a guidebook on how to speak “proper” English.

The Sporkful released a special episode of their podcast containing interviews with several current and former BA BIPOC workers. Nikita Richardson divulged that after she was laid off, a story she had already done all the leg work for was picked up and credited to Amanda Shapiro, a white staff writer who is now acting Editor-in-Chief in lieu of Rapoport. Sohla El-Waylly confirmed that the self-congratulatory editorial Rapoport wrote in the wake of George Floyd’s death was the real beginning of the end, and that the racist photo was just the final straw. She also described a company-wide Zoom meeting held after the photo began to be spread around where Rapoport issued a half-hearted apology, and began talking about how he would “fix the brand” before El-Waylly demanded he resigned. Furthermore, she revealed that after her Instagram posts began circulating rapidly, Duckor had offered her a new contract with increased pay, but she is refusing to sign it until all BIPOC have received similar compensation. She also said that she had a hand in the wishy-washy statement that BA had published on Wednesday, and said that it originally had taken much firmer stances on the issues but their PR office made them tone it down. Also, she commented that Leone, for the most part, just seemed like she “genuinely think[s] [that he] just found out racism is real.” Ultimately, she was glad that the story was getting as much coverage as it was, since it made her feel that her voice was finally being heard.

Sunday, June 14th

Baraghani released a statement on Instagram apologizing for his behavior, saying that trying to achieve his personal goals in BA’s toxic, competitive environment made him lose sight of solidarity with his fellow BIPOC.

While that may seem like the end of the story for now, it’s important to note that, even with the resignation of two executives, nothing has truly been done to fix the systemic problems at hand.

#bon appetit #adam rapoport #matt duckor #alex delany #sohla el waylly #molly baz #carla lalli music #andy baraghani #brad leone #clair saffitz #amiel stanek #tw racism #tw homophobia #tw sexism

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captain-josslett · 3 years

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Broken Melody - Part One

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven,

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 10k+

Warnings: None... yet...

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor (Eventual)

Right! I wrote the beginning of this fic months ago. It’s going to get angsty so be ready. But the purpose of the first part is to introduce this version of B!D, a well known singer in a grammy award winning band. I honestly had a great time writing this first part!

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated.

For @thewitchandtheassassin, @natasha-danvers, @life-is-hella-unfair, @finleyfray, @supergirl-writingz,

The screeching of Emma Danver’s alarm makes her hazel green eyes shoot open. Normally on a Saturday she wouldn’t have her alarm set and would laze in bed. Especially when she is home from her latest world tour. However, today was going to be a day filled with the Superfriends, and she can’t wait!

Emma had mentioned at the latest game night that she wanted to check out a beach over an hour away from the city and how they could make a day of it. Kara, her Supergirl sister, instantly accepted the idea while bouncing up and down with excitement. Mostly everyone else agreed, happy to know the summer sun would be in full force that day.

Well they still had to persuade a few people, mainly Lena and Alex. But when Emma and Kara both knelt in front of the women with their identical Danvers pouts they were forcibly won over.

Emma smiles as she stretches and runs her hands through her wavy blonde hair. She quickly gets out of bed and opens her curtains. Sighing happily and just enjoying the sunshine blazing into her penthouse bedroom. Emma can totally see how Kara gets her Supergirl powers from the sun, how it recharges her and makes her the Woman of Steel.

After a few more minutes Emma turns and grabs her phone. While making her way to her ensuite she messages the group chat.

Emma: Gooooooodd Mmmoooorrrrnnnniiiinnnngggg!!! How’s everyone? Seriously can’t wait for today!

After having a quick shower Emma wanders back into her room and decides what to wear. She puts on her turquoise surf bikini with her tight black surfing shorts. She wears her blue jean shorts over the top, and a white tank top. She finishes her outfit off with her many bracelets, her apple watch and a layered necklace that has a star, sun and swan pendant. Symbolising each of the Danvers sisters. Alex is the star, Kara is the sun and Emma is the swan.

Swan became one of Emma’s nicknames in school due to there being a lot of Emma’s in the class. Her friends joked she was a swan princess due to doing ballet when she had asked them to come to a recital. Which they did and were in awe, but you know. Emma happily accepted the nickname, taking it as a compliment. Emma smiles as she looks at her ballet shoes strung over her mirror. ‘Another thing I need to get back into.’ Emma thinks wistfully. She still loves dancing, especially the latin styles like samba and tango. But she doesn’t have the time.

As she draws her attention to her reflection she definitely looks like a surfer chick, lean, toned and sun kissed. Which she was happily going for. She’s been dying to surf for ages but just hasn’t had the time. Her band had recently returned from a sell out world tour. And sadly most of the places they played at didn’t have beaches or the right surf. She felt sorry for her neglected surfboard in the back of the tour bus.

Her phone pings drawing her attention away from her musings. Emma laughs when she sees a few messages have already been sent.

Kara: Good morning sunshine! I’m sssoooooo excited too! Did you need me to bring anything else? I got all the food ready!

Kelly: Of course you’d have the food Kara!

Kelly: And good morning Emma! Shall I bring my swimsuit? Anyone going for a swim?

Kara: Ooo I am! And I think Emma is going to surf?

James: Why are you guys texting this early? I could have had at least another hour or more of sleep.

Alex: I agree with James… Emma, I hate you.

Emma chuckles at Alex’s message while she gets a bag ready with a change of clothes.

Emma: Love you too Alex!

Kara: Ahem… What about me?!

Emma: Love you too Kara!

Alex: You love me more though right?

Emma: No I love you both the same!

Kara: *Wink Wink*

Alex: Hey!

Nia: What am I just decoration?

Emma: No of course not Nia! I love you too!

James: What about me?

Kelly: And me!

Emma: Yes James and Kelly I love you both too.

Lena: Do you love me?

Emma pauses before she responds to Lena’s text. Honestly, she’s had a crush on her since the moment they met. But Lena is way out of Emma’s league. A CEO dating a musician and artist like Emma wouldn’t work. She’s not clever or brave like Kara or Alex.

Once when Lena had met her for lunch, Lena had explained what being a CEO entailed. Emma’s mind melted; it was so complex. Lena just laughed at her exasperated expression trying to figure it all out. “And that, my darling, is why you are an artist and I am a CEO.” Emma practically melted at Lena’s smile from across the table.

But that’s one of the things she loves about Lena, her passion for her work and drive for making the world a better place. And her smile. To Emma, Lena’s smile lights up the whole room.

Sighing Emma looks back down at her phone.

Emma: I love you the most… *Delete*

Emma: Yea I love you too. :)

‘Somewhat truthful…’ Emma thinks as she puts her phone in her pocket, grabbings her backpack, guitar case and placing it by the door. Kneeling on her sofa she pulls her surfboard up from behind, giving it a quick hug. Excitement surges through her veins at the thought of surfing the waves.

‘Rao I hope the waves are good today!’ Emma wishes as she swings the board around and accidentally knocks her recent Grammy on the floor. “Shoot!” Emma yelps and quickly drops her surfboard to pick up the award. Emma sighs in relief when she turns it over in her hands, seeing it wasn’t broken. Out of all her awards, this year's Grammy meant the most to her. The album had been a real breakthrough moment for her and the band, Axis, and they swept away the competition. Emma remembers the feeling of pride and honour when their name was called. How she and the rest of the band rushed to the stage in unison and linked arms as each said a thank you.

Emma carefully places the Grammy down and picks up her surfboard. Grabbing the rest of her stuff she locks the door behind her and takes the elevator down to her beloved yellow VW beetle. Which she affectionately calls the ‘bug’. Emma puts her stuff in the car and carefully straps the board onto the roof rack before getting into the driver's seat.

Taking her phone out she sends Lena and Kara a quick message to say she’s on her way to pick them up. Alex and Kelly are picking up Sam. Who did try and persuade Ruby to come but now as a teenager, Ruby has better things to do then hang out with her Mom and her Mom’s friends. James is giving J'onn, Nia and Brainy a ride.

Emma quickly plugs in her phone and chooses to blare out her playlist of her favourite songs. As she pulls out of the underground parking garage she starts singing and making dramatic hand movements as she dances along. Not caring if people see her.

Soon she’s outside Lena’s apartment building and as she turns the music down Lena Luthor herself was exiting the building. Emma’s mouth drops open with how beautiful Lena looks. And how different she looks too! Gone were the suits and smart wear of a CEO. Instead Lena was wearing a thigh length red patterned skirt that matched her red lips with a black crop top. To finish the look off she wore a black bowler hat.

When Lena opens the passenger door Emma quickly closes her mouth.

“Hi Em!” Lena smiles brightly at the blonde and leans over to place a kiss on Emma’s cheek. Making the blonde blush and causing her brain short circuits.

“Hi Lee!” Emma says more high pitched than normal.

Lena grins at her in amusement. ‘Rao I could get lost in those green eyes.’

“Er, Em… We gonna go?” Lena teases causing Emma to jump and pull away from the pavement. “So, how has your week been?”

“Fine. Got a commission to complete before Thursday but I’m almost done. I actually have to thank you, it's the lovely couple we met at the recent gala we went to.”

Whenever Emma is back in the city Lena always invites her to the gala’s. Surprisingly Emma finds she enjoys them, especially when it's one of Lena’s charity events. Lena and Emma are both thrilled to find Emma has a talent in being able to persuade the rich attendees to donate their money. Even from those who have never donated before. “It’s the Danvers charms!” Emma would laugh and wink at Lena when the raven haired women would be dumbfounded at the cheque in her hand from a rival.

“Mr and Mrs Green?” Lena asks, remembering how the couple were enthralled with Emma’s work as an artist and musician. Their donation had been one of the biggest of that night. ‘No surprise there.’ Lena smirks.

“Yea them.” Emma nods while concentrating on driving. She does love the city life but driving through it can be such a pain.

“What did they ask for?” Lena inquires while picking at a loose thread in her skirt.

“Mainly a seascape of a view they had back in the UK. Thatchers rock… I think.” To be honest Emma had been surprised by the Green’s enthusiasm when she showed them her portfolio. How they were willing to wait for Emma’s tour to finish before getting their commission. It had been made easier that there was a reference to work on. Even though she has never been to that part of the UK. Mainly the cities dotting around the island. And even though Emma doesn’t need the money she enjoys doing something different. Her art gives her another escape.

“What style are you doing it in?” Lena asks as she bobs her head along with Emma to the music. Something she’s never done before until getting rides with Emma. Something about the blonde’s carefree attitude rubbing off on her.

“I’m using oil this time. I think it works better with the layering and it can really make the sea look like it’s moving you know? Well… If I get it right.” Emma realises she started to ramble and quickly cuts herself off. Certain Lena wouldn’t want to hear the techniques Emma has been using. “If all goes to plan the painting should look different with the different lighting of the day.”

“I am sure you will darling.” Lena smiles widely at her.

Emma smiles back. Feeling butterflies zoom round her stomach at the term of endearment.

“Thanks Lee.” Emma taps her thumbs to the beat while they wait for a light to turn green.

“How-”

“How’d-”

They both stop when they realise they both started talking.

“You go.” Emma motions Lena to continue.

“How’s everything going with the band?”

“It’s going really, really well! We are already writing songs for the next album. But we’ve also really benefited having this time off too.” Emma grins thinking of the other band members.

In some ways they’ve become another little family to her. The four other guys were already formed and were looking for a female influence. Emma saw the flyer and thought ‘why not!’ before calling them and doing an audition. The guys were blown away by her voice and talent. Unanimously they agreed she can become a member of the band and ultimately making her the lead singer. That was over eight years ago when Emma was eighteen and Axis were well known in certain areas of America but when Emma joined their popularity skyrocketed.

However fame didn’t matter to Emma, but she loves performing and writing music. Especially when she gets fan messages about how her songs have helped someone get through a difficult time and gave them hope. She always makes sure to save those messages.

“Sounds exciting.” Lena agrees, nodding her head.

“Speaking of deals.” Emma pauses to concentrate on the traffic. “How’d the deal with the Japanese go?”

Even though Emma wasn’t looking at Lena she could feel the big eye roll the raven haired beauty did.

“That good huh?” Emma jokes but feels for the CEO.

“Honestly it was a nightmare. They kept going around in circles and I’m just getting over the migraine!” Lena dramatically rubs her forehead. Which Emma misses from looking at the road.

“Ah no.” Emma frowns as she quickly looks at Lena. “Are you sure you’re okay to come to the beach?”

“Yes I’m fine.” Lena smirks at Emma’s concern.

“Okay, I am glad you’re coming.” Emma smiles brightly back.

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Did I have a choice?” Lena teases.

“Yes! But it would have made me very sad if you hadn’t.” Emma pouts dramatically and pulls off her best puppy dog eyes.

“And that’s why I said yes.” Lena chuckles at how adorable Emma looks.

Soon they pull up to Kara’s building and she’s already waiting outside. Piles of bags by her feet. Both Lena and Emma laugh at the sight. “Joys of being Supergirl I guess!” Emma jokes about Kara’s metabolism.

As she parks Emma can’t help but remember the day Kara became a part of the Danvers family.

Emma had taken to the alien quicker then Alex, especially as there was only a year age difference between the two blondes. She also found she became the bridge between Alex and Kara. Over time the three learned how to live with the new dynamic and would soon enjoy each other's company. Kara and Alex would laugh when little Emma would cheerfully yell that they were the three musketeers as they played with wooden swords or practically any activity that involved the three of them. Even making hot chocolate together.

When Kara became Supergirl Emma almost had a fit. She’d been in New York for a sold out week of gigs when she had seen the news in the early hours of the morning. Frantically she called Kara to see if she was okay and getting even more frantic when she realised Alex had been on the plane too. The two sisters were eventually able to calm her down after a lot of sobbing and panic from her end. When Emma returned to National City she held onto her sisters a lot tighter that day. Eventually the three ended up falling asleep together on the sofa. Emma in the middle of the two as they wrapped their arms around each other.

Emma’s musings were interrupted when Kara slammed the car boot down hard. Causing the car to bounce.

“Careful Kara!” Emma yells, knowing full well her sister would hear her.

“Sorry little one! I’m just so excited!” Kara squeals as she opens the backseat door before leaping in.

“Hey I’m only a year younger than you!” Emma frowns into the rear view mirror to glare at her sister. Who just sticks her tongue back at her while clicking in her seat belt.

They continue the hour long drive to the beach, chatting and singing along to Emma’s playlist. Lena watches on in amazement as Kara sings the melody and Emma does some beautiful harmonies around her. They all laugh and cheer when Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ comes on.

“Come on Lena! Join in!” Emma yells while she puts the volume right up. So Lena does. When the rock part of the song comes on all three of them dance and headbang along. Lena laughs as she feels so carefree. She pauses when Emma starts singing passionately to the next verse.

So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye So you think you can love me and leave me to die Oh, baby, can’t do this to me, baby Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Honestly she could listen to Emma’s voice for hours. Which is probably why she secretly went to as many of Emma’s gigs as possible. But every time she would go to reveal herself to Emma she would back peddle and leave. Knowing that someone as talented as Emma was way out of her league. Her pride for her friend as she watched with the Superfriends at Kara’s apartment as Axis won Grammy after Grammy, award after award. How they screamed with joy and hugged each other after each announcement. Plus Lena thought someone as pure and happy as Emma wouldn’t do well with someone broken like Lena. So she keeps her feelings to herself and tries to be content with being Emma’s friend.

Lena’s heart warms as she remembers meeting Emma for the first time over 3 years ago. She had been at one of her first game nights with the Superfriends when a knock sounded on Kara’s door. Everyone had looked at each other in surprise as no one was missing. Lena watched Kara bounce towards the door and as she opened it a continuous scream of surprise and happiness escaped Kara’s mouth. This caused Alex to rush over in response and suddenly scream as well. The two sisters practically tackled the blonde beauty out into the hallway where they fell into a laughing heap. Kara kissed the blonde’s head over and over while Alex held onto her like a koala bear and kissed her cheek over and over.

Finally they untangled and Kara dragged the other blonde into her apartment. Excitedly introducing everyone to her little sister, Emma. The Superfriends each individually greeted the newcomer and when it came to Lena’s turn Emma had stepped forward and gave her an affectionate hug. Laughing that Kara has told Emma so much about her that she feels she already knows Lena well. When Emma stepped away from the hug they both ignored the warm feelings racing around their bodies. Lena had to agree as both the Danvers sister’s spoke of Emma fondly and how proud they were of Emma’s success. Lena hadn’t told anyone this but she bought all of Emma's music to listen to it after Kara gushed about her sister. She instantly fell in love with the voice coming through the speakers.

Kara soon asked why Emma was in National City and Emma excitedly revealed that Axis was moving to National City. Lena again ignored the feeling of excitement that shot through her. And again Emma was tackled to the floor as both Alex and Kara leapt towards her in celebration.

“Lena?” Kara’s voice breaks through her thinking and Lena turns to look back at her best friend. Listening intently as Kara excitedly explains a new prototype Brainy is designing to help Kara not be so affected by Kryptonite.

“Maybe I can help with it?” Lena offers kindly.

Kara’s smile brightens up even more. “That would be swell!”

Lena gives Kara a small smile before turning back to the front. To be honest it still stings that Kara didn’t tell her Supergirl secret to the CEO. It had been two years after Emma had moved back to National City when Lena and Kara were having lunch but Kara was being called away. Again. Lena couldn’t stop herself and blurted out she knew Kara’s secret. She will never forget how Kara’s face fell and the promise of talking about it after she’s finished. Lena’s face grew cold as her walls shot up. She told Kara not to bother and stormed out of the restaurant to her penthouse apartment. She refused to see anyone or answer her phone. Allowing her past hurts and hatred to simmer and boil.

That was until a knock sounded on her door. She chose to ignore it but the knocking persisted.

“Come on Lena, please open the door. Let’s talk about this.” Emma’s muffled voice sounded through the door.

“Why should I?” Lena spits out as she draws closer, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Because you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Lena scoffs. “And why not?”

“Because you’ll allow your demons to lie to you and it will eat you up.” Emma had experience with this herself.

Tears fill Lena’s eyes and against the screaming in her head she reaches out and opens the door.

“Hey you.” Emma gives Lena a small smile before stepping into the apartment. Placing the takeout bags on the floor and pulling Lena into a tight hug. Allowing Lena to break down as she sobs into Emma’s shoulder. All her past hurts rushing forward and spewing out.

After she was spent Emma gently led her to the sofa and reheated the food. Making sure Lena ate. They talked long into the night and when Lena started rubbing her eyes from exhaustion Emma helped her get ready for bed. As Lena slid between the sheets Emma leaned down to give her a goodnight hug. But stopped when Lena wouldn't let her go. “Stay.” Lena whispered. So Emma grabbed a pair of her spare clothes she left for times like this and got in next to her. Lena shifted over to her and rested her head on Emma’s shoulder. Emma wrapped her arms around Lena and held her close. They don’t say anything more but drift into a peaceful sleep.

“We’re here!” Emma sings out, causing Lena to jump slightly. They pull into a car park right next to the beach.

“Oh wow!! Look at the sea! It’s so beautiful!” Kara gasps as she presses herself against the window and like an excited child she unbuckles and races towards the beach. Having already spotted Alex, Kelly and Sam setting up.

Emma snorts at her sister’s behaviour while she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“Er… She will help us with the food? Right?” Lena looks back at the overflow of food bags in the back of the bug.

“Yea as soon as she realises she will shoot back up here.” Emma chuckles while getting out of the car. And Kara did just that as Emma went to pay for a parking ticket she watched Kara race back up to them, in human speed. “Glad to see you helping.” Emma raises an eyebrow at her sister as Kara reaches the bug.

“Sorry! I just got really excited! It’s so beautiful here!” Kara bounces like a puppy.

“Now you understand why I dragged you here instead of going to the beach at NC?” Emma says while carefully unstrapping her board before lowering it and leaning it up against the bug.

“Yes, yes.” Kara keeps her eyes on the beach.

“Hey.” Emma smirks at her distracted sister.

“Yea?” Kara tears her eyes away to look at Emma. Smiling when Emma opens are arms and they hug. “Haven’t been able to give you one yet.” Emma says in her ear. Kara buries her face into Emma’s neck, enjoying the warmth and feeling of home whenever she hugs her sisters.

The car door closing makes them break apart. “Okay I think that’s everything.” Lena says while looking at the small mountain of bags.

“Thanks Lena!” Kara sings as she grabs half of the bags before Emma can tell her to only take a few. Hopefully no one will question how a slim woman can carry that much weight. Lena catches Emma’s eye and they both roll their eyes at each other.

“Jink!” Emma yells causing Lena to do another eye roll. Before Emma can reach down for her stuff Lena steps forward.

“Can I have a hug too?”

“Sure you can Lee.” Emma opens her arms wide and Lena almost tackles her with her enthusiasm. They both sigh happily as they hold onto each other a bit longer than necessary. Emma breaks the hug and steps back, grabbing her backpack, placing a few food bags on her shoulders picking up her guitar, and securing her surfboard under her arm. “Oh Lee don’t take that many, Kara will come up and get the last few.”

“Okay.” Lena nods while swinging a food bag on each of her shoulders and they start walking towards the beach. “Kara is right though, it’s really beautiful here.”

Emma smiles at her, happy Lena approves. The sand was a beautiful white which made the sea clear and looked like a gorgeous turquoise and teal. The richness of the colours makes Emma want to weep with happiness. They could pretend like they were in the Caribbean or on the Hawaiian islands.

“Hey Peanut!” Alex yells as Emma approaches her.

Peanut has always been Alex’s nickname for Emma since their parents told three year old Alex she was going to be a big sister. Alex had been fascinated about it all and when her Mom had told her the baby was the size of a peanut the name stuck. Even when Emma grew and was the size of tennis ball Alex would still refer to the baby as Peanut.

“Hey sis!” Emma yells back, dumping her stuff on one of the picnic blankets. Alex comes over and pulls Emma into a tight hug, quickly followed by Kelly and Sam. “Been a long time Sam, how are you?”

“I know I’m sorry!” Sam says as she takes a step back. “Life’s been hectic!”

“Oh don’t I know it.” Emma laughs. “Maybe you can ask your boss to allow you to have a life?” Emma teases while giving Lena a pointed look.

“Not my problem she wants to work longer hours then she is contracted!” Lena places her hands on her hips.

“Maybe she’s following her boss's example? And maybe the boss needs to cut down too? Maybe relax a bit?” Emma stalks towards her crush.

“Maybe-” Lena stops what she was going to say and tilts her head as she watches Emma approach. A smirk on her face. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly Emma reaches out and starts tickling Lena who laughs loudly and tries to swat the blonde away.

“Lena! She’s ticklish too!” Alex snickers as she goes through the food bags.

“Traitor!” Emma yells as Lena starts her own assault. The two women fall to the sand in fits of giggles as they wrestle. Before Emma can gain the upper hand Lena straddles her and continues tickling her. “No! Lena!” Emma kicks out trying to shift the woman on top of her. But Lena was not budging. “Argh! I surrender! Please!” Emma wheezes.

“I win?" Lena stops and gazes down at Emma triumphantly.

“You win.” Emma coughs and when Lena moves off her she instantly misses the feeling of Lena’s weight on top of her.

“Are you ladies done or are you going to help?” Alex raises her eyebrow at them as they catch their breath.

“Yes ma'am.” Emma salutes before getting up, rubbing the sand off herself and reaching out to help Lena up. They smirk at each other and set to work getting the rest of the blankets and chairs out for the Superfriends.

Soon the other group arrives and they all sit chatting and relaxing. The men start setting the BBQ up, insisting they can do it, much to the amusement of the women as they try to do it without looking at the instructions.

Alex, Kara and Emma smile at each other as they share a look before giggling. The Danvers sisters have barbecuing in the great outdoors down to an art. But if it keeps the men happy they stay quiet. Sighing Emma turns away from the entertainment and looks out to sea, watching the waves and the surfers riding them.

Alex shuffles up to her, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder. “You can go if you want.”

Emma rests the side of her head on her sister’s. “I know, but the waves aren’t quite right yet.”

“Okay.” Alex wraps her arms around Emma, who returns the gesture and holds onto Alex. Emma moves her head and kisses Alex’s head before resting her own on Alex’s again.

Alex smiles and kisses Emma’s hand that's holding her close. At first Alex wasn’t too keen on the idea of coming to the beach, too much work to do at the DEO and an hour travelling seems like an eternity. But Alex is glad she came. They sit content.

“How can you tell if the waves are not right?” Brainy asks, having left J'onn and James to sort out the BBQ.

Emma looks up at him. “I don’t know, you just can. It’s a feeling.” Emma runs a hand through her hair trying to think of a better way to explain it. “Like when you are out there you know a big wave is coming, the wave. You just got to be patient and take the moment when it comes.”

Brainy tilts his head at her. “I think I understand.”

“Well I’m glad you did.” Alex snorts and yelps when Emma playfully slaps her bare arm.

“Oh come on I didn’t slap you that hard!” Emma laughs but rubs her sister’s arm.

“Anyone wanna play rounders?” Lena asks the group as she picks up one of her bags. She pulls out a rounders bat, which is shorter than a baseball bat, and ball.

“Rounders?” Kara asks, confused. “Don’t you mean baseball?”

“No, I mean rounders, it’s what we played at my boarding school. It’s the game that baseball came from. The first known account of it was in 1744 with the Tudors.” Half of the group look at Lena blankly, while the other half look interested and know who the Tudors are. “Basically you still have four bases, home runs etc. The bowler must do underarm, though we can do overarm…” Lena pauses. “It’s just different okay?”

“Sounds good to me!” Sam leaps to her feet and starts setting the four bases up. Everyone else follows suit and splits into teams, Lena and Sam being the captains of each team. On Lena’s team is Kara, James, Alex and Emma versus Sam’s team which has Kelly, J'onn, Brainy and Nia.

After a coin toss Lena’s team bats first with Sam being the bowler, or pitcher, as Alex yells out.

“And can we make a rule of no powers? We don’t want the ball getting batted into space!” Sam jokes as she jogs to bowler base.

“Sounds fair.” Kara says looking at J'onn who nods in agreement. She gets into position to bat. She hits the ball no problem and starts to run, but she hits the ball too high and Brainy is already waiting to catch it.

“Out!” Sam yells as Brainy holds the ball in his hand, causing Kara to skid to a halt. She turns and walks back to the team, kicking the sand as she goes.

“Hard luck sis.” Alex rubs Kara’s back when she comes back to the line up. Pouting all the way. Emma gives her a hug and kisses her cheek.

“You’ll do it next time.” Emma reassures her.

They watch James get into position and hit quite a good ball. He manages to get to third base before having to stop when Nia catches the ball while on 4th base.

Lena is the next to go and Emma can’t help but watch as she sways her hips getting ready to strike. Her ball goes low and far. She sprints off and her team screams and cheers when she manages to do a home run.

“Nicely done Lee!” Emma holds her hand out to high five the out of breath CEO.

“Thanks.” Lena smiles brightly at the blonde while holding onto her hand longer than necessary.

Alex is up next, feeling the pressure of going after Lena’s home run.

“You got this babe!” Kelly smiles from the 2nd base. Alex smiles back at her before readying herself. She misses the first ball.

“Strike 1!”

Huffing Alex gets back into position again. And misses.

“Strike two!”

“You got this Al!” Emma claps and encourages her sister.

Taking a deep breath Alex readies herself and watches the ball. She manages to hit it and sprints to 2nd base.

“Nice to see you Alex!” Kelly teases the red head causing Alex to gently shove her girlfriend.

“Right you’re up Emma!” Sam calls as she catches the ball.

Emma picks the bat up, wiping the sand off it and stands in position. Noticing the opponents are standing mainly to the left, Emma decides to trick them. When Sam throws the ball she quickly turns her body and whacks the ball to the right side of the field far away from the group. She runs half the way and seeing Brainy is still running to the ball she walks the rest of the way, dancing and blowing kisses. She starts sprinting the last few feet as the ball is being thrown towards Nia. The team celebrates her home run and they play a few more rounds, having a few collisions and lots of laughter. They have two more goes each and swap over. Lena takes over as the bowler. “Pitcher!” Alex yells as she runs to man 2nd base.

The new batting team does just as well and Sam’s team are one point behind. J’onn is up as the last batter, it’s all on him. If he gets a home run Sam’s team has won the game. Emma watches the ball carefully as Lena throws it and in a split second it's coming right at her. She reaches out her hand and catches it. Everyone stares dumbfoundead before yelling in surprise and either excitement from winning or groans for losing.

Emma’s team crowd her and she laughs at the attention.

“Emma?” A voice says behind her.

Emma’s head shoots round and she smiles when she sees her bandmates standing there.

“Guys?” She rushes towards them. Emma had told them of her plans and had invited them to join. They had said they were busy so it's a huge surprise to Emma that they stood in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

“We are… Wanted to talk to you.” Jack, the guitarist and other singer, says before he looks at the Superfriends behind Emma, watching them intently. “Alone.”

“Sure.” Emma shrugs, she turns back to Lena and throws her the ball. Emma walks with her bandmates along the beach until they are far enough away. Though Emma is sure Kara can still hear them. “So, whats up? Everything okay?”

“Er… So about that-” Danny, the drummer, starts but rubs his neck. Feeling very awkward. Frankie, the keyboardist, doesn’t make eye contact with Emma and shuffles his feet in the sand.

Mick interrupts. “We want to leave the band.”

Emma’s mind screeches to a halt. “Leave? All of you?”

“Yea Em. Just with Jack getting engaged, Frankie’s Dad being ill and Danny’s baby is due. We just don’t have the same drive like you do.” Mick looks sadly at her. “We are a great team, but it’s just not the same. After moving to National City we realised we want to settle, have families, the whole white picket fence thing.”

Emma places her hands on her hips, biting her lips to stop the tears threatening to fall. “What about the new album? We’ve already written most of the songs.”

“You don’t need us Em. You are the front runner and can do this with anyone.” Jack tries to reassure her.

“But they won’t be you.” Emma’s heart starts to break when she looks at the finality in each of their eyes. “And… And nothing I can say will change your minds?”

Her four bandmates shake their heads.

“Okay.” Emma looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath before looking back at the men in front of her. “Well, can we do a farewell tour?”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Danny smiles sadly at her and the other three nod.

“Can we give you a hug?” Jack asks quietly, hating seeing Emma so defeated.

Emma nods and they go in for a long group hug. But as the tears start to spill Emma breaks the hug and rushes back to the Superfriends. Ignoring any questions, she throws off her clothes and jewellery and grabs her board. Sprinting to the surf and diving into the sea.

She paddles quickly, still hearing voices, most likely Kara and Alex, calling after her. But she drowns it out by duck diving under a wave as it rolls over her and she resurfaces. Emma continues further out past the swell where she can stop and just lie there. Letting the board bob as she gazes at the horizon. Emma allows her tears to fall. Her face distorts with her disappointment and hurt.

‘What am I going to do?’ Emma thinks. She gets why the guys want to leave. Knowing this would happen one day. Or at least a break, but it still hurts. ‘Since when did it change for them?’ Emma stays like this for a while, lost in her own thoughts.

Some time later splashing behind her makes her turn her head and she sits up. A wet laugh breaks through her lips when she sees Kara and Alex balancing on a paddle board trying to reach her. Alex particularly looks like how a cat would look in this situation. On her knees and very tense having come to a very deep part of the beach. Alex doesn’t like not being able to touch the bottom, or see it. Kara is using the paddle, obviously using a bit of her super strength with how quickly they are going.

“What you laughing at?” Alex snaps.

“Nothing.” Emma smiles sadly at her while wiping the tears from her face. She swings her legs around and places them either side of the board. When the paddle board comes alongside Emma’s, Kara moves to sit down. Causing Alex to shriek as the board rocks dangerously. Emma reaches out and steadies it while trying not to laugh.

“Sorry Alex!” Kara apologises before turning her attention to Emma. “You okay?”

Immediately Emma’s smile drops and her eyes fill with tears again. She furiously rubs her eyes to stop them. “Yea fine.”

“No you’re not.” Alex sighs, hating seeing her sister look so unhappy.

“Guessing you heard?” Emma looks at Kara who nods sadly. Crinkle on her forehead evident of her concern. Emma looks down at her hands, not able to look at her sisters anymore. “I just… I get why…” Emma exhales deeply. “It just hurts you know. We are so in sync with each other and I honestly can’t imagine having to restart all that again.”

“But you will.” Alex reaches out and touches Emma’s linked hands. “Because your voice, your music needs to be heard Em.”

“Yea it's one of my favourite sounds, like ever.” Kara agrees. “But you know you will always have us, right?”

Emma nods, allowing a few more tears to fall.

Alex reaches out and wipes the tears from Emma’s cheeks. “And yes it sucks right in this moment but you will get through this. We will both help you through this.”

“Totally.” Kara agrees.

“Thanks.” Somehow Alex manages to hug Emma without falling in and Kara joins them.

Right on queue Kara’s stomach rumbles. “Oh and lunch is ready.”

“Uh oh the monsters coming.” Emma smirks as she looks at her alien sister.

“Race ya?!” Kara jumps to her feet making the board rock dangerously and had Emma not been holding Alex the red head would have fallen in. After making sure her sisters were okay Emma waves them off.

“Nah, you go on ahead, I’ll be right behind you.”

Emma watches her sisters go, hoping Kara has enough control not to cause Alex to fall in too far from the beach. She keeps her eyes fixed on them, slowly following in case Alex needed her. But when they reach the shore Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. Emma chuckles when Kara returns the paddle board they borrowed to get to her.

Shaking her head Emma starts slowly paddling into the swell and waits, her board moving with the ocean. Suddenly she feels a shift. Emma lies on her stomach and starts paddling hard. She smiles as her board gets picked up by the huge wave. Whooping as her board flies through the tube, she reaches out and skims her hand along the break. She comes out the other end and using the momentum turns her board, shooting her closer to the beach. Until finally her board slows down and she jumps off, wading the short distance to the shore.

“Hey!” A surfer approaches her, smiling flirtatiously. His brunette hair slicked back from the sea.

“Hi.” Emma responds while picking up her board.

“That was a sweet wave you just did!” His enthusiasm makes Emma smile.

“Thanks, kind of wish it went on forever.” She admits, cause really there was nothing like going through the tube of a wave. The colours and sounds were breathtaking.

“Ah man I know right?!” He laughs. “So, I was wondering if I could have your number?”

“EMMA!” She turns to look at Kara who is waving her arms about wildly. Most likely due to Alex saying she can’t eat until Emma joins them.

“Thank you but I’m kind of not available. Sorry.”

“No worries at all.” He looks slightly disappointed but still smiles.

“EMMAAAAAA!!!”

Emma laughs at how Kara’s yells got even louder. “Well I better go, don’t want my sister getting any more hangry.” Emma starts to walk back to the group.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Emma.” He calls after her.

Emma swings round but continues walking backwards. “You too.” She turns back around, smiling and shaking her head.

As soon as Emma gets near, Kara is loading her plate up at top, human, speed. Emma chuckles at the sight and digs the end of her board into the sand before taking the leash off and flopping onto the picnic blanket.

“Who was that?” Kelly asked across from her. Lena pretends she isn’t listening in as she gets some food.

“Oh just some guy congratulating me on my sweet wave.” Emma imitates the guy's accent which makes them laugh.

“And he wanted her number!” Kara teases while she sits next to Emma.

Whistles and ooo’s sound around the group. Alex watches bemused as Lena purses her lips before going back to a neutral expression.

“So where’s the number?” Sam asks excitedly, not missing Lena’s rigid posture.

“Meh, not my type.” Emma tries to play it off cooly while she grabs her top and shorts to change into again. Not minding that they will get a bit damp as the sun is out in full blaze. She also applies her suncream handing it around and reminding everyone to keep it topped up.

“Since when has hunky surfer boy not been your type?” Kara asks confused as she focuses on the surfer. “Honestly I could grate cheese on his abs!”

“Kara!” Emma laughs loudly while she dishes up a plate of food.

“You also said you weren’t available,” Kara presses on, missing the looks Alex was giving her. “Who's the lucky guy or gal?” Emma had come out as bisexual when she was a young teenager. Her Mom and sister’s supported her and Emma was glad she could do the same for Alex when she came out to her. Alex had even flown out specially to where Emma was gigging to tell her. At first Emma was really worried when Alex avoided eye contact and was nervously fidgeting in her seat. When Alex finally blurted it out Emma held her sister close. Saying how proud she was of her and her love for her sister hadn’t changed.

“No one, I just wanted to get him off my back.” Emma says nonchalantly but inside she was freaking out. She’d said it because yes she wasn’t available because her heart belonged to Lena.

Kelly gives Alex a look and watches as Emma settles in-between Lena and Kara under the umbrella they were sitting under. Alex doesn’t miss how much closer Emma sits to Lena than her sister.

The Superfriends continue talking and when everyone has finished eating they split off to do their own thing. Alex and Kelly go for a walk, mainly to come up with a plan to get Emma and Lena together. While Kara, J'onn, Sam, Nia, Brainy and James play volleyball. Girls and against boys. “Original.” Emma mutters causing Lena to snort.

Lena and Emma opt to stay with everyones stuff. Lena is happy to sit back against the pile and read a book she’s been wanting to read for months but never had the chance.

Emma sighs as she looks at her guitar case. Twiddling her thumbs for a moment she draws her knees to her chest and watches the waves. But not feeling quite ready to get back in.

After half an hour Lena puts her book down and focuses on Emma. “Something on your mind?” Lena asks, nudging her shoulder into Emma, causing the blonde to sway.

“Guessing Kara told you?” Emma keeps her eyes fixed in front of her.

“Yes, she was relaying what was being said.” Lena says apologetically.

“It’s okay. Makes it easier in a way.” Sighing heavily Emma turns to look at Lena. Who is watching her with concern. “I just don’t know what to do. I need to look for new bandmates, but that just seems so daunting. Can I really go through that all again?” Emma runs her hands through her hair. Huffing she looks back into emerald eyes. “Okay if we don’t talk about it? Just enjoy what we have right now?”

“And what do we have?”

“Great company, good food and a wonderful view.” Emma motions to the beach around them.

“Yea, I can do that.” Lena keeps her eyes on Emma.

“Go back to your book Lee. I’ll be fine.” Emma tries to smile reassuringly.

Lena doesn’t buy it but starts reading again. She watches Emma from the corner of her eye as she shuffles over to her guitar case, opening it and pulling the guitar out, making sure it is in tune.

Emma gets her songbook out of her case, opening the page to a song she had started writing. Making sure she doesn’t hit Lena with her guitar Emma settles back down. Grabbing her phone she hits record and starts plucking. Softly singing to herself.

Tell me somethin', girl Are you happy in this modern world? Or do you need more? Is there somethin' else you're searchin' for?

Emma pauses as she remembers a chorus of a song she’s been working on. She quickly flips to that page and moves her fingers to find the chords. She continues to play. Not realising her soft singing has steadily got louder.

I'm falling

Emma sees Lena in her mind as she sings. Her pain at falling for her friend and not having the courage to take it deeper.

In all the good times I find myself Longin' for change And in the bad times I fear myself

Sighing Emma looks at the sea before turning her head slightly to look at the raven haired beauty. Whose focus is on the book in front of her. Returning her attention to her notebook Emma keeps playing and singing.

I'm off the deep end, watch as I dive in I'll never meet the ground Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us We're far from the shallow now

Lifting her head she focuses on the sea again.

In the shallow, shallow

In the shallow, shallow In the shallow, shallow We're far from the shallow now.

Emma pauses and stops the recording. Running a hand through her hair which starts getting more wavy from getting wet.

“Wow Em.” Lena breathes out.

Emma turns to Lena who put the book next to her. “You like that?”

“Yes, seriously… I don’t have the words.”

“Thanks, it’s not really finished. It needs another verse…” Emma goes through her notebook but comes up empty. Replaying the first verse Emma closes her eyes to figure out the words for the second verse.

Tell me something, boy

“What rhymes with boy?” Emma mutters to herself. “Toy? No… Void?”

Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?

Emma sighs as she remembers friends she has lost due to depression and addiction. Knowing how hard it is to feel whole and get out of the pit.

Or do you need more? Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore?

She sings through the bridge and the chorus again, making sure it all fits. But to her horror she realises she stopped the recording.

“Crap!” Looking down her phone wasn’t where she left it. Instead it's in Lena’s hand.

“I could see you didn’t press record so I did it for you.” Lena answers Emma’s questioning gaze as she presses the button to stop the recording.

“Thanks Lee.” Emma takes her phone and grabs her pen, listening to the recording and writing the song out in full with the chords.

Lena watches Emma. “Do you usually write songs that quickly?” Lena asks, fascinated.

Emma laughs in response. “No, not usually. I guess I was more inspired.” She shrugs, placing her guitar back in the case with her notebook. She shuffles back over to Lena. “Can I?”

Lena looks up and nods, letting Emma lean down, resting her head in Lena’s lap. They do this quite often and it always makes Lena’s heart skip a beat. Slowly she puts her book down beside her and runs a hand through Emma’s hair. Looking at the view and doing what Emma said, enjoying the moment.

Time passes on and Emma watches the group playing volleyball. Kelly and Alex have joined them, Kelly staying with the girls while Alex went over to the boys side. Emma smirks when Kara would not so sneakily use her powers to gain an advantage.

But Emma’s attention diverted back to the sea, the tide was coming in and the swell had gotten bigger. Turning her head to look up at Lena Emma pauses. Her eyes linger on Lena’s chest before taking in her profile. ‘Rao she’s so beautiful.’

“Okay if I catch a few more waves?” Emma asks, finding her voice.

Looking down Lena smiles. “Sure.”

“Thanks Lee.” Emma sits up and presses a kiss to Lena’s cheek. As Emma takes her clothes off she grabs her board and runs to the surf. Lena touches her flushed cheek and smiles softly.

Soon the volleyball group end their game, the boys team winning by a few points. They head back to their set up, laughing at how both J'onn and Kara leapt for the ball, only to miss it completely.

“Hi Lena!” Kara says while sitting next to her best friend. “How's the book?”

“It’s…” Lena looks down at the book and realises she’s only got through part of the first chapter. Her attention had mainly been watching Emma surf. “Slow.”

“Ah I hate it when that happens!” Kara hands Lena a drink while they sit and watch Emma. Who had just gone through another tube, much to the excitement of the surfers watching in the shallows. “I don’t know how she makes it look so easy!”

“It’s one of her many talents.” Lena agrees, though there is always a feeling of anxiety whenever anyone she cares for is in any body of water.

“Totally.” Kara says before sighing sadly.

“Kara?” Lena asks concerned for the Super.

“I just… She’s worked so hard. I know she will come back from this, but when Alex and I got to her she… She just looked so broken.” Kara sighs again. Worry filling her eyes as she watches her sister.

“She didn’t want to talk about it. But said how daunting it is to find new bandmates. Which I can understand.” Lena knows how hard it is to make friends in general.

“Yea it’s not the easiest of processes. She needs to click with them, for them to become in sync with each other and then get on with them. How they managed to drive around in that tour bus all over America and later the world is beyond me!” Kara says with wide eyes, she had joined Emma for a few gigs and thankfully the venues weren’t too far from each other. But Kara found the journey long and boring.

“Kara, anything slower then you flying is beyond you!” Lena's teasing causes Kara to laugh loudly.

“True!”

They continue watching Emma who attempts a few aerial tricks. The spray of the sea flying high above her. “She wrote a really beautiful song just now.”

“Really?” Kara perks up and Lena nods. “Think she’ll play it for us?”

“Maybe.” Lena hopes Emma does. She really wants to hear it again.

While Emma still surfs the Superfriends play UNO. Laughing at how competitive Alex is getting and only getting calmed down when Kelly gives her a gentle kiss.

As the sun starts to slowly descend Emma finally gets out of the sea. Waving goodbye to a group of surfers she had been talking to.

She notices a fire has been built in the centre of the Superfriends circle and a few of them are roasting marshmallows.

Emma’s body is completely shattered but she smiles at the feeling. Making a note to come back here as much as she can. Even if the weather isn’t perfect like today.

The Superfriends greet her while she grabs her stuff to change. Alex stands and uses one of the blankets to block anyone’s view of Emma. Kara joins in and goes to the other side. Emma scoffs knowing full well she can change without showing anything and there has been no paparazzi bothering her.

Finally dry and feeling much warmer Emma sits next to Lena and places her head on her shoulder. She can’t help but yawn and let her eyes drift.

“Tired Em?” Alex teases from across the circle and smiles at Lena whose cheeks are tinged with red.

“Uhmm.” Emma confirms. “Do we have any more food?” She asks, keeping her eyes closed. “Or has Kara eaten it all?”

“Hey!” Kara swats Emma playfully but causes Emma to jump and glare at her. “Sorry! Did I hurt you?” Kara asks, panicked.

“No, I was just surprised.” Emma sighs before resting her head back on Lena’s shoulder.

“Well I did see a pizza place as we drove in. Maybe we can order?” Nia asks.

“Sounds like a good plan to me!” Emma gives a thumbs up. Pizza is one of her favourite foods.

With the joys of technology the friends order and half an hour later a pizza boy with a mountainful of pizza boxes comes towards them. They thank him and dig in. Emma grabs Lena and her pizza, two cans of soda and some salad left over from lunch.

“M’lady.” Emma holds out the cans which Lena takes. “I got some salad too.” Emma places the container in front of Lena.

“Thank you Em.” Lena says touched that Emma thought about her. She opens the lid and wonders how she can eat it. Looking up she sees Emma holding out a knife and fork for her and she smiles.

“You may need this.”

Lena grins back thanking her and takes the cutlery from the blonde.

Emma happily munches away at the pizza, rolling her eyes when the debate about Hawaiian pizza is brought up.

“Personally I don’t see anything wrong with it.” Sam defends laughing at Brainy’s stunned face.

“But to have a fruit on a savoury dish… it just does not compute.”

“Brainy.” Emma gets the alien’s attention. “Have you actually tried it?”

“No I have not.” He looks appalled that Emma would ask that.

“Then how’d you know if it doesn’t work?” Emma tilts her head.

After a moment of thinking Brainy nods. “Fair point.”

“Next game night I will order one and you can try it!” Sam says happily while winking at Emma, who smiles back.

“Just keep it away from me.” Alex says, shivering at the thought.

“Sorry to change the subject, buuutttt, Emma.” Kara says making Emma freeze while her last pizza slice was near her lips. She lowers it slightly while looking at her sister, who is beaming from ear to ear.

“Yea?”

“I saw you working on a song, wanna share it?”

All the Superfriends turn to look at Emma expectantly. Always appreciative of hearing anything Emma is working on. Taking a deep breath she lowers the slice back to the box and wipes her hands on a napkin.

“Peanut, you don’t have too.” Alex says glaring at Kara. Emma would do anything to make her sisters happy, Alex knew this. So did Kara. And yes, they would both exploit it sometimes.

“No, it’s okay. Would be great to get everyone's opinion.” Emma grabs her guitar and notebook. Reminding herself of the chords. “So… This… Well…” Sighing heavily, Emma closes her eyes to control her nerves. “I kind of imagine this as a duet, but with, well, the band breaking up. I may have to rethink it a bit.” Emma focuses on the fire in front of her, feeling too embarrassed to look at anyone.

She starts playing the chords and sings. Allowing the music to wash over and for her voice to carry with the wind. Emma adds the new verse but as she nears the end she feels her emotions take over, her frustration at her situation and the need to release it. She improvises. Closing her eyes and allowing herself to go with it.

Whoa-oh-ah-oh-ahh

Emma belts out, slamming her fingers into the guitar strings as she increases in passion and volume.

I'm off the deep end, watch as I dive in I'll never meet the ground Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us We're far from the shallow now

A smile graces Emma’s face as she lifts her head.

In the shallow, shallow In the shallow, shallow

Emma softens her voice, allowing the natural end of the song to take place.

In the shallow, shallow We're far from the shallow now.

Emma allows the last chord to hold longer than necessary. She keeps her eyes closed and waits.

A huge roar around her causes her to jump and open her eyes. A crowd has gathered round the group and are applauding her. The Superfriends all clap wildly too, Alex wipes tears from her face and Kara beams as brightly as the sun. Emma turns to look at Lena and her smile is as bright, if not brighter then Kara’s. Her green eyes simmering with tears. Emma watches as one falls and she gently reaches out and wipes it away with her thumb.

She then acknowledges the crowd with a small wave and thanks them with a bow of her head. They soon disperse, returning to their own groups and Emma sighs in relief.

“So, was the song okay?” Emma asks while picking at a chipped bit of wood on the base of her guitar.

“Okay?” Alex's voice booms causing Emma to quickly look at her sister. Alex’s eyes are wide. “Okay? Em that song… Wow I don’t have the words!”

“That’s what Lena said.” Emma smiles at the two women.

“Well it’s true.” Lena grins back, nudging her shoulder into the blonde’s.

The other Superfriends nod and agree.

“It really moved me.” Sam says smiling at Emma who blushes in response.

“Yes.” Brainy adds. “Very- touching.” Nia smiles at him. Emma grins too, happy Brainy was able to express himself.

Emma plays a few more well known songs and the Superfriends join in. But as the sun dips slowly into the horizon Emma stops and hands the guitar to James who continues playing. Not as well as Emma but enough.

Emma heads back towards the surf, wading in up to below her knees. Taking deep breaths she watches the colours change, memorising the rich reds, oranges and yellows. Lena comes and stands next to her. They watch in comfortable silence and Lena links her fingers with Emma’s. They smile softly to each other before watching the sun dip under the horizon.

(Part Two)

#supergirl #supergirl imagine #supergirl tv #supergirl fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl baby danvers #lena luthor x baby danvers #alex danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers x baby danvers #lena luthor imagine #alex danvers imagine #kara danvers imagine #b!d #baby danvers

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harley-sunday · 3 years

Text

Encore [03]

Summary: The new Disney+ show ‘Encore’ brings together former castmates of a high school musical, tasking them with re-creating their original performance in a high school reunion like no other. Emotions run high as you face faded friendships, long-forgotten controversies, killer choreography, and an ex-boyfriend you haven’t seen in eighteen years.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader [unnamed OFC, nicknamed ‘Ace’)

Warnings: Language. NSFW

Word count: 10.3k

AN: This chapter has everything: angst, swooning, smut, you name it. Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

“Hi, Nic,” you answer your phone with a faint smile, wedging it between your ear and your shoulder so you have both hands free to drain the pasta that has just finished cooking.

“Ok, I did something and you’re not going to like it, but-”

“Nicole,” you warn her, because even though you’re not sure what she’s talking about it doesn’t sound too promising.

“Just hear me out, ok?”

You grab the glass of wine you poured yourself earlier and sit down at the kitchen table, “Fine.”

“So I went to go see Chris after you left yesterday and-”

“Nicole,” you draw out, pinching the bridge of your nose, your elbows resting on the table, “what did you do?”

“I gave him your letters,” she says matter-of-factly. “He needs to know.”

“I can’t-”

“It’s been eighteen years, babe,” she cuts in, “and I’m not gonna let you two waste another minute.”

“You had no right,” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, the betrayal caused by your best friend weighing heavy on your, well, everything. You can hear she’s still talking but you hang up anyway, not interested in whatever excuse she comes up with to justify her actions.

Your phone rings again, Nicole’s name flashing on your screen, but you decline the call, the hurt slowly turning into anger and so you empty your glass of wine rather aggressively before you decide you need something stronger. Might as well get the whiskey out, you reason, and so not much later you find yourself on the couch, your half-finished dinner long forgotten, nursing a whiskey and taking a rather painful trip down memory lane.

After you left Sudbury you found a job as a waitress at a diner in Boston somewhere and you were determined to leave the past behind you, taking on every available shift to keep yourself busy. It felt like you actually had your life together for about six months, but then ‘Not Another Teen Movie’ came out and suddenly Chris was everywhere and you had a rather embarrassing breakdown over it at work. Your boss, bless him, understood you needed something more than just a shoulder to cry on and referred you to a therapist who had helped his daughter after a particularly nasty divorce not too long ago.

In the end it was Dr Lipinski who suggested writing letters rather than keeping a diary, because as he told you, the act of writing down your thoughts and feelings and then sending them to your person of choice, would offer you a sense of closure. You chose to send them to Nicole, mostly because, well, you missed your best friend terribly, but also because she was there for most of what happened while you were dating Chris and so she knew your history.

She didn’t reply until after the third or fourth letter, when she wrote to you and told you how hurt she was after you left. You were a little taken aback by her blunt reply but your therapist used her letter to make you understand that when you left Sudbury, you also left Nicole behind and that her feelings were very valid. Your next letter to her was a heartfelt apology that she accepted with grace and after that you started writing to each other regularly.

Most of your letters those first few months were long, endless pages of you trying to understand why this break up had such an impact, why you couldn’t seem to let it go. Sometimes while writing, a happy memory from when you were dating would pop up and you’d share it with Nicole, but most of the time it was just you trying to figure out where things had gone wrong and why Chris seemed so unaffected by all of it. Another popular subject was trying to make sense of why people treated you the way they did after you broke up and why they went to such lengths to make you feel so bad up until the point where the only way out was to leave Sudbury.

After a while, a good two years after you first started writing, your letters became less about Chris and more about whatever else was going on in your life. You kept writing Nicole as you moved from Boston to Pittsburgh to Baltimore before you ended up in Philadelphia almost four years ago. She was there with you for every new job, every date you went on, both good and bad, and during your four-year relationship with Dylan that slowly bled to death even though Nicole already told you to call it quits five months earlier.

Except for the annual Christmas letter there was no telling how often you’d write her, sometimes mailing out as many as three letters in one month and sometimes taking several months between one letter and the next. There was always a peak in letters whenever Chris had a new movie out though, his media presence almost a cruel reminder of why you started writing in the first place.

The Infinity War premiere earlier this year, which took place about a week after you were contacted about Encore, made you write two letters in rapid succession. The first one was upbeat, the words penned down almost in a hurry, as though you were afraid you’d run out of time, and almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. The second letter was way more subdued and took you several hours to write as you suddenly found yourself reliving the years right after you broke up with Chris, which in turn made you doubt if coming back would be a good idea.

Your last letter was sent somewhere during the summer, where you let Nicole know that of course you were doing the show, not only because it would be stupid not to but also because you hoped it would bring you some sort of closure after all these years. She supported your decision and you could tell she was excited to finally see you again and introduce her family to you.

Maybe what bothers you so much about Chris now having your letters, you realize, a few hours and two glasses of whiskey later, is that, even though you made the very conscious decision to go back to Sudbury, things are out of your hands now and you hate no longer being in control of what happens next more than anything.

The rest of the week passes by in a blur, a new assignment with a tight deadline has you working long hours, all while Nicole keeps calling you at steady intervals. You never answer, still too upset and hurt by what she did.

When Friday afternoon comes around you wonder if maybe you should call Dr Lipinski, just to hear what he thinks. You decide it would probably be weird to contact him after you stopped seeing him, what, fourteen years ago and so you don’t, not in the least because you know he’ll probably just say something like, “But how does it make you feel?”

Problem is, you don’t know. There’s a whole range of emotions you go through each day, from angry when you remember what Nicole did, to disappointed that she did it, to hurt that she did it without your consent. Giving Chris those letters was like giving away a piece of you that you’ve kept hidden for all these years and you’re not sure you want him to see now, because what if he no longer wants anything to do with you once he finishes reading them?

Last night you wondered if you should just call him and explain well, what exactly you weren’t sure, and so you spent the better part of an hour staring at your phone, willing for Chris’ name to pop up on your screen. You even contemplated calling Scott, only to realize you don’t have his number, which made you even more upset.

Your phone rings then, interrupting your thoughts and when you see it’s your boss who’s calling you take the call with the push of a button on your steering wheel, her voice filling your car in an instant.

The call is short, but you know more will probably follow over the weekend, because for some reason your boss values your opinion too much not to run things by you before final decisions are made. Before you hang up you tell you’re available should she want you to come into the office, and even though she tells you she would never and to enjoy your weekend, you kind of hope that she does, because you could use some distractions in the next forty-eight hours or so, not particularly looking forward to the time alone.

After a quick stop at the grocery story you finally make your way back to your house, cursing quietly when you see there’s no empty parking spaces along your street and you’ll have to park around the corner. Once you find one not too far away, you sling your purse over your shoulder and grab the brown paper bag from the back seat, supporting it with two hands once you’ve locked your car, because even though it’s not really heavy it’s just easier that way.

Your phone rings then and without looking you answer it, figuring it must be your boss backtracking on her earlier offer to not have you come in, “Linds, just tell me when and I’ll be there.”

“It’s me.”

You’re too stunned to say anything and stop at a bench, putting the groceries down to keep from dropping them.

“I know you don’t want to talk and I know you’re still angry, but I need you to listen for like, two minutes, and I promise I will stop meddling after this,” Nicole says so fast you almost want to tell her to take a deep breath, but then she clears her throat and says, “I gave him your address.”

“What?” You make a face because you don’t understand, “Who did you-”

“Just be honest with him, ok babe?”

“What are you talking about?” You shake your head even though she can’t see you, “Nicole? Who has my address? Did Scott contact you-”

“I want you to know that I love you,” her voice is soft, “and that I’m always here for you.” Before you have a chance to say anything she continues, “Now go. I’ll talk to you soon, ok?”

“Nicole!” It’s too late, she’s hung up already and you can feel yourself starting to get annoyed at her call. What the hell was she thinking, giving Scott your address? You stew things over while you pick up your groceries and continue on towards your house, not particularly paying attention to your surroundings. You’ve just made it to the front steps when you see something moving out of the corner of your eye and then someone steps into view and-

“Hi.”

Of course. You look at him from over your grocery bag, “What the hell are you doing here?” Then, because it’s quite busy out and you don’t want anyone to recognize him even though he’s wearing sunglasses, you rest the bag on your hip and fish your keys out of your pocket and nod towards the door once you’ve opened it, “Get inside.”

He waits in the narrow hallway for you to close the door and so you have to squeeze past him to the kitchen so you can finally put your groceries down. You take a deep breath before you turn towards him and it’s then you notice the duffel bag at his feet, which makes you scoff, “What are you doing here, Chris?”

“I wanted to check on you-”

“Well, you’ve seen me,” you say, gesturing at yourself, “I’m fine.”

He steps closer then, his eyes landing somewhere over your right shoulder, where you know there are four empty bottles of wine on the counter and so you try your hardest not to cringe, before he looks back at you, one eyebrow raised, “You sure about that?”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to not lose what little composure you have left, “If you just came here to tell me my life is a mess, I really don’t-”

“I came here because we need to talk,” he takes his sunglasses off and runs a hand through his hair, which tells you he’s not quite as confident as he tries to make you believe.

“And you thought showing up, unannounced, was the best way to do this?” You scoff and shake your head, “Do you even know me?”

“I thought I did,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hold up your hand when you see he wants to say something, “No, you know what, never mind, we’re not doing this now.”

“Ace-”

“The living room is on your right, go, make yourself comfortable, examine my life some more, I don’t care,” you tell him as you turn around and start unloading your groceries, “I’m gonna make us dinner first because I’m not doing this on an empty stomach.”

You think you hear him chuckle, but you’re too determined to prove your point and so you ignore him, instead getting everything you need to make a quick chicken stir fry. He leaves his bag in the hallway, almost like he wants you to know he’s not going anywhere, and it makes you go through a whole range of emotions while you cut the vegetables.

Dinner is awkward and silent and so the moment both of you finish eating you pick up the plates and disappear into the kitchen, mumbling something about doing the dishes. While you wait for the sink to fill up with warm water you start clearing away some of the things you��ve used while cooking and it’s at that moment Chris walks in.

Your kitchen is small and definitely not large enough to host two people comfortably and so you can’t help but bump into him when you turn back around, and having him up in your personal space does nothing to improve your mood.

“You need any help with those dishes?”

You shake your head, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave you alone, but either he really doesn’t or simply chooses not to, because he stays, leaning against the countertop behind you. Fine, you think, and focus on the dishes instead.

“You know what I regret the most?” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but his words pierce through the air like a scream and in response you start scrubbing a little harder. He doesn’t wait for your reply and continues, his voice a little louder now, “Letting you go that easily.” He clears his throat, “Did you know I came back for you after we broke up?”

Shit. The plate you were holding slips from your hand, falling back into the soapy water and making some of it splash over the edges, which only adds to your frustration.

“I thought maybe if we could talk and I could explain what really happened at that party, I don’t know. I thought maybe we could work things out, you know, that if you heard my side you’d understand, but-” he pauses for a second, “you weren’t there.” His voice catches on the last word and he clears his throat again, “When I found out you were gone I lost it. I asked Nicole to tell me where you went and when she told me she didn’t know I- Your parents, I called them every single day, begging them to tell me, to at least let me know if you were alright, but they just told me to let it go. To let you go.”

Too much. It’s too much and you can feel the room starting to close in on you and so you try your hardest to just stay focused on the task at hand.

“I think they called my mom at some point, just to get me to back off, and she basically told me the same thing, that I should let you go and that if we were really meant to be together you’d find your way back to me in the end.” He scoffs, “Maybe not the best advice to give a heartbroken nineteen-year old who thinks this is the end of the world. I went off the rails after that and I’m not proud of some of the things I did, but at least the alcohol helped to numb some of the pain, so-” He sighs, “My manager gave me an ultimatum after I missed my third casting call in two months and, I don’t know, I guess that was the turning point, you know? I went back to Los Angeles and focused on work and for a while it helped because that city never held any memories for us so-” his voice drops, “I thought I could finally let you go, but-”

You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to hear that the past eighteen years have been just as bad for him as they were for you, and it’s almost as if you don’t want to believe that what he just told you is actually true, because it would invalidate so much of the anger you’ve felt for all those years. You drop the glass you were holding back into the water and leave, the living room the only logical option for now because that’s where your liquor cabinet is. Just as you’ve poured two glasses of whiskey, putting one on the dining room table for him to take, he walks in, one eyebrow raised when he sees what you’re doing. You shrug, “I’m gonna need a drink for this.”

There’s a hint of something in his eyes, maybe relief that at least you’re talking again, before he says, “I just need you to hear me out, Ace. Please?”

You don’t say anything but take a sip of your whiskey instead, which he takes as his cue to continue.

“I thought I could forget you, thought that it would get easier after a while but-”

You watch him as he leans against the table, more space between you now than there was in the kitchen. He looks down at his feet and you can see his eyebrows knit together, almost as if he tries to decide what to say next.

He nods then and looks back up at you, “I never believed people who said you never forget your first love, thought eighteen years would be long enough to get over someone- To get over you but,” he tries to smile and shrugs, “then I saw you again last week and-”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“-turns out they were right after all.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at you with that half-smile that normally makes you melt a little but now only adds fuel to the fire and so you don’t give him the response you know he’s waiting for.

He runs his hand over his face in frustration, “Well, I guess at least now you know my side.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, “I guess I should tell you mine but your new best friend Nicole made sure you already know everything, so-”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t still talk about it.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what people do, Ace,” he says, his desperation clear in the way he drops his hands. “I came looking for you last week, you know that? I went by your hotel because I didn’t want to leave things between us like that but you weren’t there and I-,” he shakes his head, “I felt like that nineteen-year old kid again.”

You don’t say anything, just scoff and take another sip, the amber liquid burning your throat in not an entirely unpleasant way.

“So when Nicole offered me that lifeline, I- Reading your letters,” he says, his voice a little unsteady now, “it helped me understand that I fucked up. Not just eighteen years ago but also last week. That’s why I’m here, you know, I- I really hope we can try to work things out, because I don’t want to lose you again.”

“What do you want me to say, Chris? I don't-”

“I just want to know if the girl I fell in love with all those years ago is still there.”

It’s too much. You’d like to believe you’re still angry. At him. At yourself. At Nicole. Because anger is an easy emotion. Safe even, at least it was for the past eighteen years. But it’s also slowly starting to dissolve, because the faint promise of something more that hangs in the air now makes you feel hopeful, maybe, and it confuses you. So, you put your glass down and walk past him, doing what you do best, “I don’t know what you had planned but if you want to you can sleep on the couch, I guess,” you tell him as you make your way to the stairs, “there’s a linen closet on the landing upstairs, next to the bathroom. Everything you need is in there.”

“Ace-”

“I need some-” You take a deep breath, “Good night, Chris.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy and you spend the night tossing and turning, sometimes drifting off in a restless sleep, but mostly awake, the events of the previous evening never far from your mind. By the time Saturday morning comes around you’re a little sleep deprived and a lot on edge.

You’re still in bed, trying to figure out how to go about today, trying to figure out what to do with everything you found out last night, when you hear the familiar creak of the stairs. For a moment you panic, thinking he’s going to come in to tell you he’s leaving, but then you hear the tap being turned on in the bathroom and you let out a sigh of relief, if only because the inevitable has been postponed a little longer.

The shower turns on then and so you realize now is a perfect time to call the one person who you know will help you make sense of the whirlwind of emotions you’re feeling after last night. You roll over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand, and thumb through your contact list until you’ve found her number, letting yourself roll on your back once you’ve hit ‘Dial’.

She doesn’t answer right away and for a moment you’re worried she’ll ignore your call like you did hers the past week, but then you hear the familiar sound of her voice and it’s like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders.

“You ok?” She sounds worried, must know that you wouldn’t call if it’s not urgent, and you love her for it.

“No,” you answer truthfully, “not really.”

“Is he still there?”

“Yeah,” you pause for a second, just to confirm you can still hear the water running. “He’s taking a shower,”

“So he spent the night?”

“On the couch,” you admit easily, “but yeah.”

“What happened?” There’s some noise on her end of the line and you can only imagine her sitting up on the couch, not wanting to miss anything of what you’re about to tell her.

“I don’t know. It was so awkward at first, Nic,” you let out a sigh and look up at the ceiling, “and then he just sort of started talking, telling me his side of the story and-”

“So you know about what happened when he got back to Sudbury?”

“You mean, after we broke up?”

“Yeah,” Nicole confirms.

“I don’t know.” You run a hand over your face, “He told me he sort of lost it for a while?”

“Oh honey,” Nicole scoffs, “he was a mess. He came by a few times, always asking if I knew where you’d gone, if there was a way to contact you, and each time he looked worse than when I last saw him. He even got pulled over at some point and they threatened to put a DUI on his record, but Michael’s dad was still Chief and knew the history between you two and what had happened, you know, so in the end they just took him home and warned him not to do it again. I think he went back to Los Angeles shortly after that.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

You throw your blankets off and sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, “Why’d you never tell me this?”

She scoffs, “Would it have changed things?”

“No.” You sigh, “Probably not.”

“Exactly,” she replies, and you can just imagine her nodding on the other end, “So now that you realize you were an asshole to him last night, what’s-”

“Nicole!” You try to keep your voice down and so it comes out in a hushed whisper.

“Oh come on,” she says, her voice telling you that she knows she’s right, “like that’s not what’s happened.”

“Well yeah, but I don’t need you to rub it in.”

“That’s why you called me though, isn’t it?”

You nod, because of course it is, “Yeah.”

“Ok,” she agrees, “so then you also know what you need to do next.”

“Probably,” you tell her, running one hand through your hair, “but I know you can’t wait to enlighten me just in case,”

“You need to let him in, babe,” she says matter-of-factly. “All the way. Be honest with him. Only then can you two try to make this work.”

You sigh, “I just hope I didn’t fuck it up too much last night,”

“Babe,” she says, the accusatory tone in her voice very clear, “that man is so-”

“That man just finished his shower,” you whisper quickly when you hear the bathroom door open, “I need to go.”

“You got this, babe.” “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say and push the end call button just as you hear Chris walk by. You wait for him to make it downstairs again before you get out of bed, grabbing some clean clothes before you head to the bathroom as well.

You find him in the kitchen not much later, trying to figure out your coffee machine but so far not succeeding. Clearing your throat to let him know you’re there you lean against the doorframe, “Hey.”

“Hi,” he says and then gestures towards the machine, “I was trying to make us some coffee but,”

“Yeah, no, that requires at least a day of training,” you say with a small smile, the tension you left with last night still very much palpable. “I was thinking maybe we could go out for breakfast?” You were thinking no such thing, but it seems like a good idea. “Get out of the house a little? I know this great place not too far from here, it’s usually pretty quiet there, so-”

“Sounds great,” Chris says while he pushes the coffee machine back to its original spot on the counter.

You grab your purse and keys and wait for him to put on his shoes before you walk outside, telling him your car is parked just around the corner. The drive over to Point Breakfast doesn’t take long but it’s filled with the same awkward silence as during yesterday’s dinner. You try to come with things to talk about but it all seems too unimportant and so you quietly hum along to the radio instead. A quick glance over at Chris tells you he’s nervous as well, flipping his phone in his hand over and over again.

Surprisingly enough there’s a free parking spot not too far from the entrance of the diner and once you’ve filled the meter you lead Chris inside. There are two other booths occupied, and even though none of the patrons pay any particular attention to you, you still go for the booth in the far corner just in case.

The waitress, who introduces herself as Agnes, is at your table the minute you sit down and pours each of you a steaming hot coffee after handing you the menu, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, ok?”

Both Chris and you nod in reply and you busy yourself studying the menu even though you already know what you’re going to get. Still, it’s a nice distraction. When you put the menu down after a while you find Chris looking at you with a half-smile.

“Banana pecan pancakes?”

“Yup,” you nod, a little surprised he still knows your breakfast order after all these years. Then, because apparently you feel like you have something to prove, “Eggs Benedict for you?”

“Always,” he says, smiling for real now.

It’s then Agnes comes back to take your order and you let Chris order for the both of you, watching him as he charms his way into Agnes heart for sure. You can’t help but smile when you listen to the easy banter between them.

Once Agnes leaves to give the kitchen your order Chris turns back to you, “She reminds me of Mrs Linton.”

“She does, yeah.”

He keeps looking at you, the way he’d always do whenever he wanted to talk about something important, and so you sort of know what’s coming next but still he surprises you when he asks, “Are we good?”

“I don’t know.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while and it makes you worried and nervous and you wonder if you’ve fucked it up for good this time, but then he leans forward, “What do you need?”

The last eighteen years back, you think with a heavy heart, but instead you tell him, “I don’t know.” You offer a shrug in apology because you know it’s not a fair answer to give twice in a row.

“It’s ok,” he says, his voice kind, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Breakfast is filled with smalltalk, Chris asking you about your job and your life here in Philly and in return you ask him to tell you more about his life in Los Angeles, which he does, although he admits he misses home terribly when he’s out west and says he hopes to start spending more time in Sudbury in the near future. You don’t miss the way he looks at you when he tells you that, an unspoken question lingering between you that you’re not sure you can answer right now.

You try your best to pay attention to the conversation but his words from earlier keep echoing through your mind and you can’t help but wonder what exactly he meant when he said he wasn’t going anywhere. Nicole’s voice joins the conversation in your head then, berating you for still being way too guarded.

When you finish your plate just a little after he does you check your phone and see it’s just past noon. A bit too early to return to your house, you decide, trying to figure out what you could do instead. It’s then you remember something you would do whenever you had a date in Boston and you smile when you look up at him, “If you want we could go to Morris Arboretum next? The trees there are beautiful this time of year, so maybe we could just walk around for a bit?”

“I’d like that.”

You wave Agnes over and ask for the bill, which Chris lets you pay because well, you tell him to. You’re back in your car not much later, your drive taking you to the other side of the city in just under an hour.

By the time you get to the Arboretum the sun is out if full force and it’s warm enough that you don’t need your jacket and so you leave it in the car. Rummaging through your purse you try to find your sunglasses, putting them on when you finally find them only to see Chris squinting against the bright light. You tell him to hang on for a minute and open the trunk of your car, quickly locating what you’re looking for, “Here you go.”

He eyes the cap suspiciously, and you hold your breath, hoping he might have forgotten about it, but then he turns it over in his hands and looks at the inside where his initials are still visible on the tag, albeit a little more faded now. His eyes widen in surprise, “You kept this all these years?”

“Well, yeah, It’s a nice cap,” you try, hoping it sounds casual enough for him not to comment on it any further, “and I’ll always be a Patriots girl, no matter where I am.” It’s true. When you first started dating you didn’t really care for football but you always tagged along to watch games with either his friends or his family and it wasn’t long before you found yourself immersed in the sport. And even though you don’t keep up as much now, you still find yourself rooting for the Patriots whenever you catch a game.

He doesn’t say anything but you think you see the hint of a smile when he puts it on and you wonder if he remembers the night he gave it to you, on your one-year anniversary, when he got tickets to a game and you spent the weekend in Boston together.

You try to push back the memories, not wanting to find yourself getting lost in the past, and instead tell him, “Let’s go,” and head to the visitor center where you pay the entrance fee. You opt for the long trail, which, if you don’t stop at any of the features, will take about thirty minutes, but you’ve never been here before so you’re sure it’ll probably take you a lot longer. Which is fine, because it’s still early and the weather is perfect for an afternoon outside.

The first stop is a Tree Canopy walk that does exactly what it says and leads you through the treetops. It’s quiet, not too many people around, and at times it almost seems like you’re here alone. You walk side by side, quietly marvelling at the things you encounter being this high up, and there’s a familiarity to it all that both scares and excites you.

The trail takes you through a rose garden next and several other features after, until about an hour later you find yourself at the step fountain and when Chris suggests taking a quick break you join him on the top step, which offers you a nice view of the lawn spreading out in front of the fountain.

There’s some distance between you but still Chris manages to nudge your knee with his when he asks, “Where’s your head at?”

Immediately you hear Nicole’s voice, telling you to be honest and you decide that maybe it’s time to take her advice even though you’re not sure where to start. You take a deep breath and say the one thing it all comes down to, “Us.”

You see him nod out of the corner of your eye and take it as your cue to continue, “I’m just,” you sigh, “I don’t know, Chris, I keep wondering if this would have happened had it not been for Encore.”

“Ace-”

“No,” you hold up your hand to let him know you’re not finished and smile even though you don’t look at him, “my turn.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and try to gather your thoughts, “I just think that maybe we both got caught up in the moment, you know? Maybe-”

“You’ve kept my baseball cap all these years,” he replies solemnly and there’s no accusation in his voice, it sounds like he’s just stating the facts. Standing up then, he hands you his cap back, and for a moment you worry that maybe this is it, maybe this is where he draws the line and walks away, but instead he takes his hoodie off, which has you even more confused.

“Chris, what-”

He walks down the first few steps then, making sure he’s at eye level with you, and pushes the fabric of his t-shirt aside.

You look at him, your eyebrows knitted together because what the hell is he doing, but then you see the tattoo he’s just revealed and it’s like all the air is being sucked from your lungs. Shaking your head in disbelief, you take in the ace of hearts on his chest and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying when you see the heart in the middle of the card is broken. Without thinking you reach out and let your fingers ghost over his skin, tracing the lines that are tattooed over his heart.

“I got this on what was supposed to be our ten-year anniversary,” he says, the sadness in his voice mirrored by the look in his eyes that you see when you look back up at him. “I’m not caught up in a moment, Ace.”

“I-,”

Something else passes over his features then, but before you can recognize what it is he’s putting his hoodie back on and sits down again, much closer this time, his leg brushing against yours as he does. You much more feel than hear him take a deep breath and then he looks at you, “I meant what I said earlier.” He reaches over then and takes one of your hands in his, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not the same person anymore, Chris.” You look down at where your hand sits comfortably in his, “I’m just scared that you have this idea of me that-” you sigh and shake your head, not sure where to go next. You look back up at him, the tears from earlier starting to spill over slowly, “I’m just- I’m scared.”

“I know,” he says and gives your hand a squeeze, “so am I, but-” he lets go of your hand and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him, “I don’t want to waste another eighteen years wondering what could have been.”

When, after a while, he suggests continuing the tour through the Arboretum you agree, and when you get up he offers you his hand to help you down the steps, but doesn’t let go once you get to the bottom and so you spend the rest of the trail walking hand in hand, the silence between you now much more comfortable than it was before.

It takes you about an hour to make it back to the entrance, the sun a little lower in the sky now even though it’s still nice and warm out. Once you get to the parking lot he offers to drive back and so you hand him your car keys without too much protest, climbing into the passenger’s seat not much later. A quick glance at the dashboard clock tells you it’ll be almost six once you get back and so you suggest stopping at a Thai place not far from your house and get some takeout.

You give him directions where needed but other than that the ride over is silent, the only sound coming from a radio station that plays eighties rock classics that you always have on when driving. You’re simply too lost in thoughts to start a conversation, and you guess maybe he is too. You wonder where his head is at, because even though he keeps telling you that he’s not going anywhere he hasn’t really told you he wants to get back together with you either. Or is that just your mind playing tricks with you? Is him saying that he doesn’t want to waste another eighteen years enough?

More than anything you want to call Nicole, so you can tell her what happened and ask for advice, but you also know that wouldn’t be fair to her, Chris, or you. You’re going to have to trust yourself to make the right decision even though you’re sure that deep down inside you already know what that is. And you want to tell him, really you do, but it’s not necessarily a conversation you want to have now, driving down Broad Street in the middle of the Saturday afternoon rush, and so you decide to wait until you get home.

When he pulls up to Ameri Thai about forty minutes later you tell him to wait in the car, assuring him you’ll get some extra spring rolls just for him.

Mrs Zhang greets you enthusiastically, a little surprised when you give her your order, but then she realizes what’s going on and throws you a wink, “Ah, you got company, honey?”

You laugh and shrug, neither denying or confirming her question, but you’ve been coming here for at least once a week ever since you moved into the neighbourhood so by now Mrs Zhang knows your order by heart and so she also knows she’s right. To distract her you ask her how her grandchildren are doing and even though she answers rather elaborately, she keeps looking at you from behind the counter, almost as if she’s studying you.

After a while she disappears into the kitchen, no doubt to tell her husband the latest gossip, and when she comes back with the takeout bag not much later, she actually rounds the counter to give it to you. You hold out your hand to take it from her, but it’s then she pats you arm and smiles at you, “You look happier, honey, I like it.”

“Thank you,” you say, a weird feeling in your stomach as you accept the bag from her and wave at Mr Zhang, who has appeared behind the counter, before you let yourself out and walk back to your car where you find Chris quietly singing along to Boston’s ‘More Than A Feeling’. He’s taken the cap off and you can tell he’s tried to get his hair back into shape, but it’s a little tousled and a lot cute. Damnit.

“Ready?” He asks as soon as you’ve fastened your seatbelt.

“Yup.” You nod and point, ‘“Just take a left here and then you’re back on my street.”

Dinner tonight is far more relaxed than it was yesterday, although you’re still mostly sticking to smalltalk, discussing your other castmates and the things they’ve been up to over these past years. Chris tells you he’s been to the ten-year reunion of his graduating class, but has really only kept in touch with Michael, even attending his wedding a few years ago.

All too soon you’re both done eating and so once again you mumble something about doing the dishes, hoping it will buy you some time to gather your thoughts and figure out how where to start.

“Need any help with those dishes?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you counter with a grin this time and hand him the tea towel. After you’ve drained the sink you watch him dry off the remaining two plates, and when he puts the plates in a cupboard they definitely don’t belong in, you say nothing, too enamored by this weird moment of domestic bliss.

When he’s done he hangs the tea towel on its designated hook and looks at you, almost as if he’s awaiting further instructions, hands back in the pockets of his jeans, trying to act cool even though the red spots in his neck tell you he’s anything but.

There’s so much you still have to say, so much you still want to tell him, but not now.

Not now.

Now, you take a tentative step forward, slowly closing the space between you, and stand in front of him, biting your lip as you look up at him. His eyes widen and there’s a question in them that you answer with a nod and a mischievous smile. Your hands rest on his chest then, but it isn’t long before they move up so you can wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close.

“You sure about this, Ace?” His voice is low and full of promises and you answer the only way you know how, by pushing yourself up and letting your lips ghost against his.

He leans forward then, catching your mouth with his as he sneaks his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer, kissing you with a determination that makes last week’s kiss pale in comparison. It isn’t long before his tongue darts across your lips and you let him in instantly, the taste of him infatuating you even more. His hands travel down then and when he taps your thigh you know what to do and jump up, throwing your legs around his waist.

You feel him take a few careful steps forward, until you bump against the counter and he sits you down on it, now standing in between your legs, his hands cupping your face as you kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him. Your hands settle on his chest, bunching up the fabric of his sweater in between your fingers, wanting more of him, needing him closer. Wrapping your legs around his waist again you press yourself against him, dragging your teeth over his bottom lip at the same time, not missing the groan that escapes him.

He gets his revenge by pulling back, making you whimper at the loss of contact, a little out of breath and a lot turned on. He rests his forehead against yours and chuckles, “That was-”

“Yeah,” you agree, letting go of his sweater so you can run your hands through his hair before you let them settle at the base of his neck, only so you can keep him where you need him most as your mouth finds his again. There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, a want behind it that you know he gets when he takes a step back, his lips still on yours, and gently tugs at your hips, making you slide down from the counter. You have to brace yourself against him because your legs are a little wobbly, your hands now on his chest again, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss when he grabs your elbows to hold you steady.

You feel yourself getting lost in him, but at the same time there’s something so familiar about all of this, about him, that almost makes it feel like you’re coming home. In a rare moment of clarity, you wonder if maybe that’s just it. Maybe you’ve been so restless all these years because you had this idea that home was supposed to be the city you grew up in, or any of the places you moved to after, where you tried so hard to forget the past. Maybe this always was where you belonged, simply because Chris always was your home.

The realization makes you hesitate, just a moment, but of course Chris picks up on it and he pulls back, a worried look in his eyes as he cups your face and makes you look up at him, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you say with a smile, even though you’re not surprised to feel tears coming to your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”

The weight of your words hangs in the air until finally it hits him. There’s a whole range of emotions that pass over his face before he seems to settle on relief, when he leans in and kisses your forehead, “God, I’ve missed you, Ace.”

“Show me,” your voice is thick, laced with emotion, and you can see his pupils dilate in response.

His hands grab your legs again, lifting you up, and you wrap your arms and legs around him, your face buried in his neck as he carries you out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your bedroom. He doesn’t let go and so you’re still wrapped around him when he starts kissing you again, until after a while you feel yourself go weak in his arms and let go, trying to catch your breath. There’s not much respite, because his hands are tugging on the bottom of your sweater then, his fingers against your exposed skin sending shivers down your spine.

Breaking contact just long enough for him to push your sweater up and over your head, you find yourself enjoying the way his eyes roam your body before one of his hands cups your breast, his thumb rubbing your already hard nipple over the fabric of your bra, which adds some extra friction. A soft moan escapes you and you can feel yourself starting to get wet almost instantly.

He licks his lips and then pushes the fabric aside as he leans forward, his tongue now replacing his thumb, sucking and licking in a way that makes you a little weak in the knees. You whimper when he lets go but his lips keep ghosting over your skin, slowly making their way up to your neck, where his tongue circles your pulse point before his lips latch on and he starts sucking in earnest.

Tilting your head to give him better access, your hands find their way to his jeans, the red belt you gave him for his birthday all those years ago holding no secrets for you and so you slide it open without giving it too much thought. You unbutton his jeans, tugging them down just a little, and let your fingers run over his abs, marvelling at how much more muscular he is now than he was then.

His mouth finds yours again, one hand in your hair while the other has returned to your breast, softly kneading it while his tongue swirls around yours. He pulls back rather abruptly, eyes dark and full of want as he takes his hoodie and t-shirt off in one go, throwing them somewhere in a corner before he puts his hands on your hips and guides you towards the bed. When your legs bump against it you sit down slowly, looking up at him with your lip between your teeth as you scoot backwards. He wastes no time and pushes his jeans down, the outline of his cock visible against the fabric of his boxes, a bit of precum staining the material a darker colour.

You keep looking at him while you unbutton your jeans, lifting your hips so you can push them down but his hands are already tugging on the fabric. Your jeans get thrown next to his and you watch him as he climbs on the bed, the mattress sagging a little under his weight, and you moan when he slowly lowers himself onto you.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says, his mouth close to your ear and his voice a little rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand sneaks down your side to the hem of your panties and for a moment he teases you, letting his fingers run along the edge of the fabric.

“Chris,” you breathe, hoping it will convey that you need more, pushing your hips up to make sure he understands.

He slips his fingers underneath the fabric, gently pressing them against your mound, his teeth dragging over the skin just below your ear as he does. There’s a trail of kisses then, from your collarbone to the swell of your breast, to the skin on your stomach, goosebumps appearing everywhere he goes. When he finally reaches your panties you help him, hooking your fingers on the elastic band and pushing them down quickly. It earns you a wicked grin from him as he helps you take them off, adding them to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

You reach out, wanting to feel him in your hands, but before you have a chance to cup him through his boxers he gently swats your hands away but doesn’t say anything and instead puts his hands on your thighs and spreads your legs to give him better access. Slowly, slowly, he moves his fingers over your skin, his eyes never leaving yours as he makes his way to where you need him most. His mouth follows soon after, teasing you by leaving butterfly kisses wherever he goes, while his fingers inch closer and closer.

A whine escapes you just as he runs a finger through your folds and so it turns into a moan, because fuck. Your hands look for something to hold onto and you have to settle for the duvet cover, bunching up the fabric between your fingers when he slides one of his into you. He moves slowly, his finger sliding in and out of you in a languid pace, his other hand on your stomach to keep you in place as his tongue finds your clit. He adds another finger then and starts moving a little faster, and you can feel your orgasm starting to build.

Feeling his beard scratch your skin only adds to the sensation and soon, with two fingers inside of you and your clit being sucked, licked, and flicked, you push your hips up in earnest, letting him know you’re almost there. He picks up the pace even more and you let out a quiet, “Fuck,” when the first waves of your orgasm wash over you not much later. He helps you ride it out by keeping his fingers inside of you but not moving them until you let yourself fall back, your eyes closed as he slowly pulls out.

You feel his beard scratch against your cheek and find his mouth effortlessly, a shiver running down your spine when you kiss him and taste yourself on his tongue, and as he pulls back a satisfied sigh escapes you. When you open your eyes he’s there, looking at you with something that goes beyond lust and want, a tenderness in his eyes that you haven’t seen in a long time. You reach up, gently pushing some of his tousled hair back before you cup his face and pull him close for another kiss.

He groans in response, mouth clashing against yours for a kiss that makes you see stars, before he pushes himself off and stands up at the edge of the bed. When he takes his boxers off, his cocks springs free, and you can’t help but bite your lips, suddenly remembering your first time together, all those years ago. He looks at you then, “Do you have a-”

“In the bathroom,” you reply, before you quickly add, “but I’m tested. And on the pill.”

“Me too.” He grins then, running a hand through his hair, “Tested, I mean. Not the pill.”

You can’t help but smile at the blush that creeps up on his cheeks as he stands there, this adonis of a man that has nothing to be embarrassed about. Pushing yourself up you sit down on your knees and hold out your hands, beckoning him over. He joins you on the bed, cupping your face and kissing you again, slower this time, like he wants to savour every second of it. You feel his cock rub against your stomach and can’t help but wrap your hand around it, sliding it up and down his shaft. When you run your thumb over the tip he shivers and pulls back a little, and so you put your mouth to his ear and whisper, “Make me yours again, Chris.”

He reacts instantly, gently lowering the both of you back down until you're underneath him again. Supporting himself with one hand, he takes himself in the other, running his cock through your wet folds for some extra lubrication. He looks at you when he presses the tip against your against your entrance, silently asking for permission.

You nod and watch as he slowly pushes into you, letting out a moan when he stops halfway through, allowing you to adjust to him. “Chris,” you breathe, and he takes it as his cue to push down further, only stopping when he’s fully inside. Your walls clench around him involuntarily, drawing a strangled groan from him that sets him in motion.

Leaning down he catches your mouth with his as he starts to move his hips, his thrusts slow yet deliberate and you marvel at the way your bodies still fit together so perfectly after all these years. You let your fingers run over the muscles in his back, grabbing onto his shoulders when he picks up the pace after a while, and stop kissing him so you can catch your breath.

“Fuck, Ace,” he groans, mouth close to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin like a forest fire.

You wrap one leg around his waist, needing more of him, and with his next thrust he hits your sweet spot, making your eyes roll back in pure bliss, knowing you’re getting close and so you let out a staggered, “Oh, God-”

“Gonna make you come so hard,” Chris growls before gently biting down on the exposed skin below your ear. Quickening his pace, you know he’s chasing the same high you’re so close to and so you clench your walls again, creating even more friction. He buries his face in your neck, cursing quietly against your skin.

“Chris, I-” you start, but then he hits that spot again and all you can do is let out a quiet, “Oh.” You’re teetering on the edge and of course he knows, his fingers finding your clit and softly rubbing it. “Fuck,” you draw out, panting now.

“Gonna make you mine,” he growls and pulls almost all the way out, holding still for a second. You whimper quietly but then he pushes all the way in, somehow deeper than before, pinching your clit at the same time, “Come for me, Ace.”

Your orgasm is instant, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through your body, your nails digging into his skin when you feel him swell up inside you. “Let go, babe,” you whisper, and he does. You feel him come inside of you, his release coating your walls, and he lets himself collapse on top of you, even though he still makes sure to keep some of his weight off of you. His face is still in the crook of your neck and you move your hands, throwing them around his neck and gently running your fingers through his hair as you both come down from this high.

He pulls out not much later and rolls off of you, pulling you with him, and you let your head rest against his chest after he places a kiss on your temple, your fingers running lazily through his chest hair. You stay like that for a while, a comfortable silence between you until his phone beeps from somewhere out of the pocket of his jeans, letting him know he’s got a new message.

He mutters something about getting that later before he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “Come on,”

You push yourself off him and get out of bed, waiting for him to join you before you make your way to the bathroom.

Like everything in your house, the shower is tiny and so you’re pressed against each other, the warm water finding its way between your bodies as he lathers you up with soap. You’ve got your back towards him, his hands gently massaging the muscles in your shoulders while he softly hums a song you don’t recognize, and you secretly wish you could stay like this forever.

When you wake up on Sunday morning you can’t help but smile when you find Chris’ arm draped across your stomach while he still sleeps soundly next to you. You turn towards him, studying him for a while, taking in his face and his neatly trimmed beard. His brow furrows then and without thinking you place the palm of your hand against his cheek to let him know you’re there.

He smiles when he opens his eyes, “Mornin’,” his voice a little hoarse, the way it always was early in the morning.

“Hi,” you scoot forward and give him a kiss.

Wrapping his arm around you tighter, he nuzzles your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear while his fingers ghost over your skin. After a while he lets out a deep sigh and whispers, “I have to leave soon.”

Even though your heart drops, you nod, “I figured.”

“My flights at two,” he says as he pulls back a little so he can look at you, “and then I’m off to Los Angeles on Tuesday.”

“How long-” your voice catches and so you clear your throat, “How long will you-”

“At least two weeks.”

You don’t say anything and let your eyes drop, trying to decide if you have a right to feel upset about this. Probably not. This was never supposed to happen and so you doubt there’s any time allotted in his schedule for you.

“Ace,” his voice interrupts your thoughts, and he sounds worried, “talk to me.”

Trying to find the right words you just smile at him.

“We will make this work,” he says then, as if he’s read your mind.

“How?”

“Los Angeles is just two weeks,” his hand now cupping your cheek, “after that I’m back home until I start filming again at the end of October.”

You nod, because that definitely offers some possibilities. The idea of maybe moving back to Sudbury flashes through your mind, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself, and so you push it back.

“We’re shooting in Boston, eight weeks tops, so-” he shrugs, “I’ll be back in Sudbury for Christmas.” There’s the hint of a smile playing on his lips then, but there’s a questioning look in his eyes, “Tell me you’ll be there too.”

It’s exciting, this promise of something more, and you feel your lips curve up into a smile when you answer honestly, "I'd like that.”

#Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans fanfic #Harley Sunday x Chris Evans #Chris Evans #Encore

57 notes · View notes

nomazee · 4 years

Text

Slow

ushijima wakatoshi x reader

word count: 3400+

content: soulmate au (matching soulmarks), developing relationship, mild angst, ushijima is just Very Clueless sometimes, weird pacing (i can never get the pacing of my writing right :/ )

(hi hi hi!! here’s the ushijima oneshot i mentioned a few days ago. this was something i started working on a while ago but dropped it momentarily to focus on some other stuff. i ended up rewriting it completely and renewing the concept a bit.

this is sort of a different writing style? but that’s mainly because i wanted to adjust the way i wrote to the way the reader’s thoughts came through. i hope that makes sense? and i hope this is still readable!!

i really hope you guys like this one. while soulmate aus aren’t my most favorite trope, i definitely like the way you can twist it to fit your story and make up new concepts branching from the main idea of soulmates.

i think this is the longest work i’ve made?? i’m definitely pretty proud of it!! i hope my hard work paid off and you all enjoy it :)

ALSO: a very quick note. i use the word “furoshiki” a few times in one part of the story to refer to the cloth that people use to wrap bento boxes. if i misused that term please let me know!! i looked it up to make sure i was using the right word but there’s definitely still a chance that i could be wrong. feel free to correct me on that!!

by the way: i’m posting this from my phone right now so the formatting might not all be there. i’m very sorry about that!! once i get the chance to go back on my laptop i’ll make sure to fix everything :)

happy reading !!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

It was common knowledge among those in the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club that their captain, Ushijima Wakatoshi, prioritized volleyball over nearly everything else.

Even relationships. Even soulmates.

His friend Tendou had laughed mirthlessly when Ushijima first met you, his soulmate. He was there to witness the whole thing, your eyes flitting between the ace’s soulmark trailed beautifully against his wrist and the same mark mirrored on your forearm. You looked enthused to meet him--not overly, hopping-off-the-walls ecstatic, but certainly hopeful enough to elicit a wide smile from you.

“I’m [Last] [First],” you introduced yourself politely, with light hesitance and an extended hand.

Ushijima blinked, looked down at your hand (soft, a red and scabbed cut on your first knuckle, a birthmark on the bony part of your wrist) and then back up at your eyes. He returned the gesture, shaking your hand, giving a polite bow--

--and walking right away.

You blinked in shock. Tendou’s mouth parted in disbelief. His head swung back and he called after Ushijima to no avail. Turning back to you, he gave a short apology and ran after his friend to scold (and tease) him.

Your mind went a bit hazy and in a natural defense mechanism, you tried to convince yourself that you were just dreaming.

You went home. Fell into your bed. Realized you were not dreaming. Cried into your pillow and fell asleep, begrudgingly waking up the next morning and getting ready for school.

---

During lunch, you stayed in your classroom to eat lunch alone when someone at the door told you a boy was looking for you. (You felt a bit pathetic for hoping that it was your soulmate and being disappointed when you realized it was not him.)

You recognized the boy as the redhead that accompanied your soulmate yesterday. Flinching at the memory, you asked him why he was here.

“I just wanted to say sorry, for the way my friend acted yesterday.” His expression was lighthearted and playful, if anything, but you recognized the sincerity of his words. “He tends to be a little… aloof, sometimes. But I promise you it’s not that he hates you or anything, just isn’t used to this. But he’s willing to talk to you again.”

You tried not to get your hopes up too much, and instead look at the reasonable outcomes of this whole soulmate thing. It’s not like you were really expecting love at first sight--lots of soulmates didn’t end up in a romantic relationship. Hell, your parents weren’t even soulmates but they were still very in love with each other. But at the very least, you thought your soulmate wouldn’t just walk away after meeting you.

You took the redhead’s offer, packed up your half-eaten bento, and followed him to his own classroom a few doors down.

Your soulmate was there--you still didn’t know his name--and his head perked up at the sound of the sliding door opening. His expression was stagnant, which dampered your spirits the slightest bit and made you consider spinning on your heel and locking yourself in the bathroom for the rest of the school day.

You sat with the two of them, knees clenched together and gaze focused solely on the bento box resting on your lap. None of you spoke. Tendou’s eyes flitted between the both of you in expectance.

“So,” he spoke up, thankfully breaking the bout of stifling silence. “[Name], you wanna tell us a little about yourself? We don't really know much about you outside of… the very little we learned yesterday, so…?”

Your mouth gaped and closed rapidly, trying to find a good way to describe yourself without either seeming like an interviewee or a self-absorbed rando.

“I’m… [Name]. I’m seventeen… in class one. I’m in the photography club.” There wasn’t much else to say, you thought. You were a very normal person. Maybe too normal to really be worthy of having a close bond with your soulmate, but a small part of you still sort of hoped.

“Wakatoshi, your turn.”

The taller boy blinked into his bento (hayashi rice, you noted. Something you were able to cook, if you tried hard enough) before speaking. His voice was deep and embarrassingly, you flushed at the way it rumbled within his throat.

“I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”

Okay. So. No age. No name (except for ‘Wakatoshi,’ which you only pulled from what Tendou said). Just his club.

With a lump in your throat and a prickly feeling behind your eyes, you excused yourself politely, bowing, and clutching tightly to your star-wrapped bento before leaving the classroom.

You went home. Punched your pillow before realizing you were definitely not one for using aggression as a coping mechanism and instead crying while making a cup of tea. Went to bed and woke up the next morning trying to forget all of the events of the past two days.

---

A week passed. Somewhere within that time, Tendou had exchanged numbers with you as a polite formality, a deeper meaning ingrained in his offer (one that you read as, “hey, I know it must be really disappointing to realize that your soulmate has absolutely no clue what romance is and no ambition for anything but hitting a volleyball, but if you ever wanna talk about it then hit me up!” You couldn’t deny that you still appreciated it).

You took the week to avoid interacting with Wa-ka-to-shi, never texting Tendou and asking to eat lunch with them or even showing up at his practice like some of their fans did (you were a bit surprised to learn that the volleyball team had fans). But you had a breaking point, as you often did whenever it came to your faux-shunning.

You texted Tendou, hoping that you weren’t that unlucky that he was still at volleyball practice and had his phone out for the captain to view.

does he like hayashi rice?

“Read” appeared under your text. You waited for the three dots to appear, which took an unnervingly long time to happen.

yup! how’d u know??

he was eating it when i had lunch with you guys.

ur observant!!

i guess. do you guys have morning practice tomorrow?

yup! starts at 7. fourth gym :) see you there!!

You paused. Tendou was nice. Also very observant. Scarily observant, enough to catch onto what you were trying to do. It made you a bit wary, but to be fair, you weren’t really being discreet in the first place.

Your mother asked you multiple times why you were cooking beef stew at nine PM, far past dinnertime. You were scared to admit that it was for a soulmate, so you instead settled for “friend” and she (very suspiciously) let you be in the kitchen.

You packed the food into four bento boxes. One for your mom, your dad, Wa-ka-to-shi, and you. (You couldn’t help the annunciation of each syllable of his name. It was just so fun to say, so fun to click against the back of your tongue repeatedly. You blamed the affinity for his name on your soulmate bond.)

You went to bed. Woke up extra early. Disregarded the concerned look your parents gave you when you left the house half an hour early with two bentos in hand.

Just as Tendou said, there was the squeaking of the volleyball team from within Gym Number Four. You hovered outside, a text sent to Tendou asking if you were allowed to come in as you awkwardly shifted the weight on your feet.

yup!! we’re taking a break right now. just come right in, i’ll be waiting for u at the door

He was waiting for you at the door, but so was Wakatoshi (you figured you should drop the somewhat-annoying pronunciation of each letter), which threw you into a stammering loop as you blinked between the both of them.

“Good morning.” Wakatoshi greeted you politely, nodding his head at you. You repeated the gesture before extending a bento box to him, with your favorite star cloth wrapping it in the neatest way you could manage.

“It’s for you. For lunch. Or dinner. Or whenever. It’s hay-- um, hayashi rice.”

Wakatoshi didn’t take it. You cringed at the lack of action and a familiar lump manifested in your throat. The stoic boy blinked down at the childish wrap and you found yourself wishing you took a solid colored furoshiki instead of this one.

In a moment of boldness, you shoved the box into his chest where he instinctively reached for it and held it.

“I hope you like it!” You said it louder than intended and flinched at the sudden gazes on you from the other members of the team further into the gym. “Have a good day.”

A polite bow, and you were on your way, cursing yourself for taking the effort to make a decent-quality meal for a soulmate, a boy who barely even glanced at you without his friend giving him the hint to do so.

During lunch, you didn’t feel hungry, and the bento sat untouched on your desk for the whole break. You ended up letting your parents have the leftovers when you got home. Your appetite was gone for the rest of the day.

(Tendou ended up bringing you back your box and cloth the next day, wordlessly apologizing for having to be the messenger of your belongings rather than the person you actually gifted it to in the first place. You took it back with a resigned sigh and a thankful smile.)

---

The morning you stopped by, Tendou rolled his eyes after your departure and he gave his friend a firm, but friendly pat on the back.

“Why are you so awkward, Wakatoshi? That’s your soulmate, you know. You could at least be a little courteous towards her?”

Said man stayed silent, still leering at the patterned furoshiki covering the lunch you made for him--specifically him; the concept sent an unfamiliar fluttering through his chest that he didn’t dare to look into.

“Why would she make this for me?”

Tendou rolled his eyes again, letting out an audible groan.

“I just explained it to you, ‘Toshi! She likes you. You’re her soulmate. You could at least tell her thank you.”

“I will, next time.”

Tendou’s eyes narrowed at that. You seemed like a spontaneous person, from the few interactions you’d had with each other. (That, and the fact that after a week of ghosting your own soulmate you suddenly decided to make an entirely specialized lunch for him.) He wanted to half-joke and say ‘I don’t really know when the next time will be, exactly,’ but figured that may lead into another Q & A With Ushijima Wakatoshi, and instead let the captain simmer in his own contemplation for now.

---

You didn’t know Semi Eita very well. He was in your class, and you chatted a fairly reasonable amount with him, even going as far as to sit and eat with him in the classroom whenever he claimed he was “too tired to deal with his friends in the cafeteria.” As much of a “friend” of his you could be considered, you didn’t know much of him past what he was on the surface.

Nevertheless, you still knew him better than your soulmate. And that petty realization may have contributed to why you accepted his offer for a cafe date.

Semi approached you during lunch one day, not embarrassed in the slightest when he asked you if you wanted to go to a new cafe with him on Friday. “It can be a date, if you want,” he’d told you, eyes flitting to the side momentarily before meeting yours again. “But it doesn't have to be. We can just hang out.”

A bit flustered, you still accepted his offer, figuring a day out wouldn’t do much harm. He smiled at your response, asking you to meet him at his gym after his volleyball practice ended.

You didn’t think much of it. He certainly didn’t pressure you into assuming it was a date, and if you didn’t like it then you could just turn him down for a second date and move on with your single life.

On Friday afternoon, at five PM like he specified over text, you walked into the doorway of the gym, hovering and watching some of the boys clean up any spare equipment left in the gym. You couldn’t spot Semi anywhere, and moved to back away from the door when a familiar voice stopped you.

“[Name].” The sound of your first name coming from the rumble of your voice unwillingly sent shivers through your spine and you chastised yourself for the reaction.

You looked at him, and there he was--sweaty, all dark-hair and olive-eyes and you hated how flustered you got.

You gave him a polite nod and forced your lips into a smile. Despite you not responding verbally, he (uncharacteristically) led the conversation.

“It’s nice to see you here.” The words felt forced, almost rehearsed on his lips, and you couldn’t help the cock of your head in curiosity at that. “The food you made me last time was very good.” A pause, and his eyes turned to the polish wood floor. “Are you here to bring another gift?”

Wakatoshi was straightforward with his question, and at the unfamiliar aloofness you found your ears turning warm and fingers grasping at each other in habit.

“No, um-- I’m actually here to see… someone.”

“...someone?”

“Yeah. Someone.” You didn’t feel like elaborating, and by some sheer luck that you mentally praised the gods for, Semi jogged to your side, changed into his school uniform and a kind smile crossing his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you, turning up to his captain in confusion before focusing on you again. “Ready to go?”

Your eyes were forced off of Wakatoshi’s, and you returned Semi’s expression with a nod. You refused to look the captain in his eyes again, and instead focused on making sure you didn’t trip on the sidewalk while walking with Semi.

---

The date-- hang out-- outing-- whatever you wanted to call it went nicely. You both had pleasant, lighthearted, not-forced conversation over very good coffee and you found it enjoyable.

By the end of the night, while Semi walked you back home, you figured you had to address what you were a bit nervous to address in the first place. After explaining your hesitancy towards calling your hang-outs “dates,” Semi ultimately brushed it off, a smile on his face as he told you he really didn’t care too much and would enjoy just being a friend to you.

You were relieved. A quiet voice deep inside your head told you to not let this poor boy get hopeful when you were still trying to settle things with (read: get over) your soulmate. Regardless of secondhand reasoning, you were thankful he was understanding and also thankful he was willing to be a friend.

---

You found yourself eating lunch with Semi a bit more often than before. It was nice to have someone else’s presence near you while you ate rather than having to sit alone and people-watch through the window of the classroom.

You were startled when Wakatoshi appeared in the doorway of your classroom while in the midst of a conversation with Semi. Noticing your mildly dumbfounded expression, Semi turned around to see where you were looking and looked confusedly at the form of his fellow teammate.

Wakatoshi nodded at him, turned to you, and gave a wave and a very, very subtle upturn of his lips. (Despite the subtlety of the gesture, you had to suppress a gasp that threatened to break past the back of your throat.)

He didn’t make a move to approach you, so you took the opportunity to walk up to him and meet him at the door, unintentionally avoiding the questions Semi shot at you in confusion.

“Hi,” you greeted stiffly. “Do you need something?”

“No. Yes.” Wakatoshi paused, collecting his thoughts. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me.”

It was an unexpected offer, one you deemed uncharacteristic coming from the aloof boy. You let your mind overprocess it before cutting off your overthinking and giving him a proper response.

“I’m eating lunch with Semi today. But maybe tomorrow, if you still want to.”

A foreign look of confusion appeared on his face, his brows furrowed together and head tilting slightly to the side. “Are you dating Semi?”

Wow. Okay. Very straightforward. Very sudden. You certainly were not dating Semi, and you didn’t know how he managed to draw that conclusion after seeing you and Semi interact a total of two times in his presence.

“I’m not…? Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because we’re soulmates.”

Your stomach churned in a mix of emotions. You didn’t know how to describe your feelings--it was an ugly mesh of annoyed, angry, confused, and on-the-verge-of-tears. You found it a bit funny that only now he was acknowledging your soulmate bond. It made the prickling sensation behind your eyes only increase in intensity.

“Right. Um, you… you didn’t really do much about that before.” You tried not to call out word-for-word what he did, but figured a jab at it wouldn’t send you into guiltily reflecting on your past actions while in the shower at midnight.

He was silent, avoiding your gaze and finding interest in the cracked wood of the door. Before your subconscious forced you to apologize, you gave a polite farewell and slid the door halfway shut before returning to your seat.

Semi stared at you incredulously. “Are you…?”

“I don’t know, man.” Despite the sudden lack of appetite (yet again! You really were not good at any form of confrontation), you forced yourself to nibble on your food and pushed down the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

---

Wakatoshi made a point to run into at any time he saw fit, which was very often. He’d find ways to catch you in the morning and say hi, and always invited you to eat lunch with him in his classroom. Out of courtesy, you often accepted his offer, feeling a bit surprised (and wary) when Tendou didn’t appear to accompany the both of you. Those lunch periods were spent in jarring silence, Wakatoshi slowly eating his food (cutely, you noted before burning that thought into the fiery recesses of hell in your mind) and you eating yours while sweating and hoping that you didn’t look weird when you chewed.

This routine kept going on for a solid week. You didn’t know what to expect anymore. Other than the lunch invitations and morning small talk, he didn’t make any outstanding gestures towards you to try to get closer. You didn’t know if that was good or bad.

One day, during lunch when you’d hesitantly accepted yet another offer to eat with him (ignoring Semi’s teasing look when you left the classroom), he made another strange offer, diverting from the usual discussions of weather, clubs, and schoolwork.

“I have a game soon.” He started off. “I’d like you to come watch.”

You paused, staring into your rice in an empty hope that it’d give you a clue on how to respond.

“It’s on Saturday. At twelve. The gymnasium isn’t too far from here. I’d like to take you to dinner afterwards.”

Oh. Oh. That was unexpected. And you were expecting the unexpected. Then again, maybe you should’ve figured that eventually he may have made some sort of move after waiting a week with bated breath.

Your lips parted, but no noise escaped. You wanted to accept, definitely, but you also wanted to be a little aware of his intentions.

“Um…” You floundered a little bit, “I’ll see if I can make it. But… um, dinner?”

“Yes.” Though his voice was steady and deep as always, you sensed hesitance in the way his eyes shifted away from yours and into his lunch. “A date.”

It was a relief to hear him just say it rather than beating around the bush. You cleared your throat in habit and scratched the skin of your thumb.

“Oh. Okay. That would… be nice.”

He smiled. It wasn’t the occasional tilt of his lips, it was a smile. Stretched lips, crinkled eyes and all. You lost your breath at the sight and a soundless laugh escaped your lips.

“Yes. I think so too.”

It was a slow start. It would take some getting used to. But you were both willing to guide each other, slow and steady.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #ushijima wakatoshi #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima #wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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namgee · 3 years

Text

implications | knj

❥pairing: Namjoon x Reader (f) ❥genre: fluff, slice of life (pg) ❥word count: 2.3k ❥summary: The adventurer life isn’t for you. You like your routines and you stick to them, but a small mess-up finally forces you beyond your desired level of social interaction as you rely on a stranger. A stranger whose actions and words imply things you wish to explore. ❥warnings: none ❥a/n: this was just a quick little thing I wrote a few days ago before I got started on another smut fic which should come out in about a week 😋 ^^ I did a quick proofread so sorry for any mistakes 😣

A silence that sounds with turning pages, graphite scraping against thick paper and the ever present hums that arise from thought. Your ears anticipate it even before you're there. It’s, for the most part, the same soundscape you’ve grown accustomed to since you started visiting the art atelier. Well, the building technically has multiple ateliers, whatever your artistic interest, for a reasonable fee each month, you can visit the space and use their resources. Each floor focuses on certain subject areas, people are allowed to move around and work wherever they want. Like a Google workspace except for the arts.

You usually stick to the 4th floor, where most of the graphics tools are. The elevator dings, you step away from the metallic box and towards the senior part-time receptionist, Diane, who gives unsolicited artistic advice under the guise that old age equates to prowess in art criticism. The advice isn’t half as bad as you expected still, you rarely take it. You place your folder on the desk giving her a smile, teeth barely visible, it’s the best iteration of ‘a lady should always smile when talking to others’ smile you can muster with your lips chapped from the borderline glacial air you had to walk through this afternoon.

“Well, hello young lady! You haven’t visited the establishment in a while. Mateo has been asking about you actually.”

Mateo is the head of the graphic art department who you might or might not like, there’s still a few weeks left for you to decide. Your roommate, Jovian, had given you the ultimatum, “You have until you finish whatever creature you’re trying to collage together this time around,” she had said waving her half painted stiletto nail around before diverting her attention to another girl who also seemed to be having a hard time choosing as her family and in laws attempted to decide for her. On one thing you were sure, you would have said no to the dress she had on.

“There we have it! That’s a much better smile that one you gave before. It’s always best to show some teeth,” Diane says, her two row of teeth (some of which look awfully fake) in full display.

“I’ll sure think about it next time Diane. I’m just here to check in right now,” you sigh, removing your decaying gloves which have lost their purpose, your fingers are about as stale as Diane’s as you fish around for your membership card in your wallet.

“The time please darling.”

“3pm to 8pm,” you say blowing warm air into your palms.

It takes a few minutes for her to find your name in the system. “Oh sweetheart, it seems someone else already took your spot.”

“Exactly how did they take my spot?”

“Hmmm,” Diane’s eyes lift upwards as she tries to find an answer in the air, “to be quite frank with you I do not know.” She sounds shocked that she doesn’t know something.

“Uh, excuse me?” Someone questions from behind you. You both turn towards the voice coming from a golden haired man sporting what is most likely the best variant of the fully toothed lady smile Diane advocates for. To make matters even better it’s shaped like a heart. “I believe that I was the one who took the spot.” he giggles nervously as if caught red-handed before sliding his own card onto the desk.

You assume he’s here to work with graphics for some sort of fashion related purpose, in fact he sort of looks like the graphics plastered around the building: colourful, bold, warm but still a bit overwhelming.

“You’re indeed the one who booked the slot first, young man.”

“I believe that this is what the trainer for my position was referring to as a glitch in the system.” Diane says with an air of pride.

“Hm, sorry about that,” The human embodiment of a colour wheel says with an apologetic pout.

“Oh, don’t worry I’m sure I can find another place, it isn’t your fault,” you wave your hand around giving him your second or third genuine smile of the day. He mumbles a shy ‘okay’ before heading right, away from you.

“Can you see if there’s any place on the other floors?” You reluctantly ask, after all you had never gone to other floors unless it was to buy snacks because the queues on the 4th floor were too long or to find unoccupied bathrooms.

Diane finds you an opening for the floor above. You thank her and move back to catch the elevator doors right before they close, swiftly slipping in towards a surprised figure, a big figure. You mumble a quick apology after bumping into him. When you turn your head to look at him he gives you what you assume to be his own equivalent of the barely noticeable smile you gave Diane a few minutes ago.

The ride takes a few seconds. You rush out the second the opening of the doors is big enough for you slip past if you just take a deep breath in. Another second goes by where you feel disoriented. The floor layout is not that different from the one beneath but the place looks far more cramped than what you expected. Don’t writers like to be alone? In their own space?

You watch as Mr. Big gives yet another one of his glances, you haven’t figured out how to describe them yet, you don’t know if you’re being judged or just being perceived or whatever it is that writers do.

He goes to the right, so you take the other way. You peruse the space for a place you could sit down to work on your project. Somehow, the writers with their notebooks and laptops seem stingy about letting you settle down despite how packed the floor already is.

For every glance you take at a potential working spot you receive three glances and these ones you know to be of the judgy kind. You walk and walk only to end up on square one. Just to make sure, you do another round and another one as if you were in a full parking lot waiting for one of the cars to magically pull out for you to get a place. By your third tentative walk, the one where you put the most effort to seem approachable and nice, someone takes pity on you.

It seems it’s not only his stature that is big but so is his heart.

“Oh god, thank you!” You sigh, sliding into Mr. Big’s little corner which faces backwards from the café.

“It was starting to look... sad.” He gives you a brief look before focusing back on his laptop screen.

“It wouldn’t have been, if you writers were more welcoming,” you scoff, shrugging off your jacket, the rustling brings your actions to his focus.

A delicate slender hand pushes against his glasses as he leans back, “You’re quite the daredevil, huh?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, slipping past closing elevator doors and sitting down to probably do something noisy with a lot of... “ He takes a look at your stash of materials, “things while surrounded by silence seeking writers. Those things make me say that.”

“That’s a very boring view on action. Also the concept of this building is literally to allow anyone to work anywhere.”

“Sure, you’re right but just because that’s their goal doesn’t mean it turns out that way. This place is no different from high school, certain spaces have been sort of ‘claimed’.”

“And you expect me to act like a good teenage girl and not start trouble?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Aren’t you a writer? You should know certain words can imply certain things,” you say matter of factly and receive a disjointed but delightful laugh as his hand fists to cover his wide smile.

“Anything else you know about writers that you would like to share?”

“You might end up making a character out of me, or a scene out of my situation.” You’re playing on stereotypes but for all you know they could be true. You lay out your material on the table forcing him to scoot a bit. He doesn’t protest and you appreciate that, so you give me a genuine tight lipped ‘thank you’ smile.

“So what are you doing?” He asks, lowering his computer screen a bit.

“A collage.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t really know yet. I’m just figuring it out as I go.” You stare at the big pile of magazines, newspapers and flyers you managed to collect over the past month. Something has to come out of it. “What about you?”

“Pretty similar actually, I just came here to write, figuring it out as I go you know.” He picks up a piece of paper nearest to him, a green flyer. “Do you even know what it says?” He holds it up to you. The text is in Arabic.

“No, I don’t.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know? I mean the work will be tied to you.” He questions.

“It doesn't matter, it’s not like anyone will see this,” you mumble, snatching the flyer from him.

“Someone should, I don’t know much about collages, actually I know nothing, but I like what I see so far.”

“What exactly do you see?” You probe.

“Ummm… uhhhh… it’s– there’s branches and,” he leans over to get a better look and hesitates “tentacles? Okay, so maybe I don’t know what it is, but I still stand by it. It’s nice to look at.”

“Would you give it as a gift to someone?” You probe even further.

“You know what, I’m just trying to tell you I like it. Like I would totally buy it! So yes, I would give it to someone, myself!” He has an overly cheery voice that encourages more glances your way. The more you look, the more you start thinking they’re watching you and not judging.

“How much?”

He gives you an incredulous expression, he seems both intrigued and confused with behaviour.

You snort a short laugh, “I’m just messing with you. But don’t get me wrong if you do want to buy it then I’m definitely taking offers.”

At that he retreats back into himself and his silence to focus on the blank document page. You shrug it away, you knew his words were too good to be true.

The two of you work in relative silence, your ripping and cutting does add a bit of a soundtrack for the period of time. After an hour or so of working, you move to buy a cinnamon bun, and while you’re at it you buy a second one. You did feel a bit apologetic for disturbing his workspace, you of all people should know.

You place his plate beside him but he’s too engrossed into his writing to provide any response. He does finally whisper a shy ‘thanks’ once he lifts his gaze from the screen. You answer with a nonchalant but truthful ‘no biggie’.

The hours bleed into themselves and soon enough your allocated time is about to run out. You’re quite used to that routine,packing up your material well in time to leave. However, the man in front of you doesn’t seem to have a good grasp of time. Last minute, he hurries to assemble his belongings, swiftly turning around to check that he hasn’t left anything behind, almost knocking down the plate that you manage to catch.

Your elevator ride to the bottom floor is as silent as the one you had earlier. You walk with synchronised strides somehow following the same way after you leave the building. You’re sure one of you is following the other, but as long as you’re concerned you’re taking the way back home. You walk in silence for a few more minutes before you think of asking him where he lives, just to make sure but he beats you to speaking.

“So uhhh, would–” he starts off in a high pitched voice which he masks with a cough, “I meant, would you like to grab a coffee?”

“At 8pm?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Or a drink?” He suggests.

“What does coffee or a drink mean?”

“I thought you were good at getting the implications of certain words.” He smirks, which seems out of character, but then again you don’t know him. You’re just curious about something first.

“What did you end up writing?”

“A short story about an avid museum visitor that discovers a collage at an exhibition that has him intrigued.” He chuckles knowing very well it just proves your point. And you smile satisfied to have finally figured out what that particular glance of his meant. He was just taking you in.

“It’s Y/N by the way,” you would have reached out your hand towards him but they’re cold so you compensate with a warm smile Diane would approve of. “And I wouldn’t mind a drink right now.”

“I’m Namjoon and I’m very happy you said that” He punctuates his excitement with a dimple. The same one you would come to grow enamoured with, so much you would make a collage piece out of all the pictures you’ve taken where it is present. In return, he would, just as he did today, unconsciously and deliberately write your works into his stories, and welcome you into his space.

“By the way, when you let me sit with you in your space, were you claiming me then?” You ask out of curiosity and urge to mess with him.

“I– I don’t know what you’re implying. But if you mean me taking pity on you then yes.” You scoff a bit too loud at his response. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to whatever it is you have in mind,” He says, looking down at your quizzical expression with warm eyes and a restrained laugh as he walks closer to you. It seems you’re not the only one who’s good with implications.

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

#namjoon #kim namjoon #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #houseofddaeng #bts fluff #bts #btsfanfic #bts fanfiction #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #slice of life #mine #namgee

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bimboamyrose · 3 years

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On The Scarlett Sea - Part 1 / 2

A ~Pirate~ Metamy Fanfic - [Link to Part 2] - [AO3 Link]

Synopsis When the world learns of a secret pirate treasure plundered from the Knuckles Clan’s ancient ruins over 300 years ago, Knuckles enlists the help of his friends, Amy and Tails, to retrieve and hide its most powerful artifact- a mysterious mirror that allows the user to become their most desired self. He isn’t the only one after the treasure, however; As Metal Sonic discovers the existence of the mirror, he forms his own crew of “pirates” to take it for himself. Along the way, he separates Amy from her friends and convinces her to help him make his greatest dream a reality- but what is that, really?

In collaboration with @mmm-asbestos & their pirate Metamy AU Merry Xmas / Happy holidays and stay well~

Part 1

There were few things Knuckles regretted more in life than meeting the self-proclaimed “World's Greatest Thief,” Rouge. As such, Amy knew she was in for a rant the minute she answered his call at the crack of dawn and heard him utter the bat’s name.

“Rouge is in the news!” he yelled into the receiver.

“Wha…” Amy rubbed her eyes. It was still dark out.

“Haven’t you seen the papers this morning?”

“You get newspapers on Angel Island?” she yawned.

“Turn on the news! This is important!”

“Alright, calm down...” Amy slid out of bed sleepily, still yawning as she flipped her living room TV on and threw herself onto the couch groggily. A news channel was running a segment on an archeological discovery that seemed to be making waves. Amy turned it up so Knuckles could hear on the other end.

“The centuries-old hiding place was found by none other than world-famous treasure hunter, Rouge the Bat. The former jewel thief was hired for her skills-”

“Former jewel thief?! Where are they getting their sources?”

“Quiet, I can’t hear!” Amy raised the volume further to drown out his yelling.

“- the discovery of a lifetime! We had an exclusive interview with the mastermind who helped find this historical treasure. Here’s what she had to say:”

Footage of Rouge sitting in a lavish armchair next to a roaring fireplace followed. “Well, you’ll be interested to hear that this isn’t the famed Captain Scarlett's treasure. It was a personal stash of journals and letters her wife left behind.

The camera cut briefly to a reporter sitting across from her. “And we understand that a possible map to the famous pirate’s real treasure was hidden among this?”

“That’s correct. I spent some days analyzing the documents and discovered they contain instructions on how to reach Captain Scarlett’s treasure. There are some hints as to what’s contained at the site as well. I’ll be sailing there with a crew in a few days!”

“Can you give us an idea of what you believe to find there?”

“Untold riches, of course!” Rouge gave a breathy laugh. “And perhaps some old artifacts- I understand she had an interest in ancient cultures,” she waved dismissively. “We’ll find out soon enough- I’m confident it’ll take no time to navigate there.”

“And we’ll be here on land waiting with bated breath for the historical discovery! Now back to-”

Amy muted the TV, her eyes finally adjusting to the dim early morning light. “So she was hired to find some old pirate treasure? Is that what you’re upset about?”

“The treasure she was hired to find happens to contain an ancient Knuckles Clan artifact! You need to get the others and come to Angel Island right away-”

“You’re mad about the possibility that Rouge will find some antique?”

“Antique! Amy-” she could hear him trying to restrain himself. “Listen to me, if this ‘treasure’ falls into the wrong hands, it’s going to be a mess to clean up. Get Sonic and Tails and come here as soon as you can. They’re not answering my calls and we need to speak in person.”

Amy groaned. It was far too early to be thinking about a new dangerous adventure- especially when they’d just stopped one of Eggman’s plots less than a week earlier. “Fine… at least let me have some breakfast first.”

“Make it quick!” he hung up.

“And they say I’m bossy,” Amy grumbled to herself. Before long, the sun’s rays shone brightly throughout her house and sleeping in no longer sounded comfortable. With a sigh, she got ready for the unexpected day ahead.

-----

“I never knew there was a catacomb under the altar…” Amy held a lantern out in front of her as she climbed down the steps.

“That’s ‘cause it’s a secret,” Knuckles responded gruffly. “Come on, I shouldn’t have to tell you to hurry it up!!”

Sonic and Tails trailed behind in a sleep-deprived state. They’d stayed up until morning playing games and were just getting to bed when Amy pounded on the lab door to retrieve them. She still wasn’t sure how Tails managed to land the plane on Angel Island. “Relax, Knux…” Sonic rubbed his eyes as he followed behind Amy.

“I’m gonna fall asleep in here…” Tails yawned.

“No sleeping!” Knuckles sealed the entrance and rushed ahead, leading the way. The rest of the group groaned in unison as they followed.

As they went, Amy noticed a ladybug had hitched a ride on her shoulder. “Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here.” She picked up the small insect on the end of her finger and continued after Knuckles. After coming down a winding staircase and navigating a series of dark corridors, the team arrived in a small room with walls lined with scrolls and small relics with a hard wooden table in the center. Knuckles lit the torches on the walls and sifted through the contents of a stone shelf.

“I have a flashlight, you know,” Tails remarked.

“No flashlights! You’ll damage the texts.”

Tails mumbled under his breath. “I suppose lighting them on fire is better…”

“Quiet- look at this.” Knuckles brought out a large, yellowed scroll and a wooden box. Spreading the scroll across the table revealed what appeared to be a map of the ocean. “This is a map to that treasure Rouge is after.”

“Wait,” Amy interrupted, “You have one, too?”

Knuckles nodded. “This is Captain Scarlett’s map.”

Sonic leaned over the scroll. “Scarlett? Isn’t that the famous lady-pirate? Why do you have that?”

“Because,” Knuckles continued, “300 years ago, that damned pirate plundered the Mystic Ruins for its treasure. This map was found by an Echidna scholar over a century ago and it’s been here ever since.”

“So, this isn’t the first time someone finds part of Scarlett’s treasure?” Tails asked.

Knuckles scoffed. “Hardly. My people have been after that stash of letters that Rouge found for decades. We’ve been trying to keep the contents of ‘Scarlet’s’ treasure a secret since it was discovered what it contains- The Stone Mirror.” The others stared blankly at him, the object he was referring to having no meaning to them. He looked at each of them irately before continuing. “Really? Argh, fine; The Stone Mirror is a powerful artifact that can turn the user into their ‘most desired self’- whatever that means. Apparently, old Scarlett used it 300 years ago to become the world’s best pirate or something.”

“So… you want us to help you look for a magic mirror in the middle of the ocean?” Sonic asked.

Knuckles’ brow twitched. “Did you not just hear what I said? What if Eggman got a hold of this thing?!”

“What’s the big deal? We should be able to fly there-”

“No flying. This map is meant to be navigated by sea. Besides,” Knuckles opened the small box to reveal a compass and a crystal eyepiece. “This map only goes so far. We’ll need these once you get to this point to guide the rest of the way.”

“Let me see that,” Tails took the compass in his hands and waved it around the room. “Does this thing work? It doesn’t even point north.”

“It points to where it has to point once you get here,” Knuckles poked at a red X on the map.

“That literally makes no sense.”

“It’s what the scholar wrote down when she discovered this map!”

As they bickered, Amy carefully picked up the map and held it to the light. As it passed in front of a lantern, writing could be seen across one side of the scroll. The little ladybug that had ridden in on Amy’s shoulder flew onto its surface and crawled around. “Guys, look! There’s something written here.” The boys went silent as they leaned in to get a closer look at the neat cursive script. Amy read it aloud. “Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.”

Sonic shook his head. “This lady sounds lost.”

“Maybe,” said Knuckles, “But our best hope is to follow this map and figure it out from there. And get that bug off the map, would ya?” Amy allowed the little red insect to crawl back onto her hand before replacing the map on the table.

“Yeah, all I’m hearing is we’re gonna get ourselves stranded in the ocean. Count me out.”

“Are you serious?!”

“No way I’m getting on a boat just to get stuck in the middle of the sea,” Sonic crossed his arms stubbornly. “I’ll stay here and look after the Master Emerald.”

“No fair, why do you get to stay?” Tails complained. “I don’t wanna be on a boat, either!”

“I think it sounds fun,” Amy said, watching as the ladybug crawled around on her palm.

“This isn’t a pleasure cruise!” Knuckles yelled.

Tails’ ears drooped. “I’ll say. Sonic’s right, we’re gonna get lost. Don’t you have that scholar’s notes, Knuckles?”

“No.”

“But you know a little about what she wrote; where are they?”

Knuckles grumbled as he crossed his arms. “There was… a small fire…”

“No kidding,” Tails frowned.

“Bah- Will you help me or not? We need to get on a boat ASAP to beat that bat over there- she has all the same information in those documents she found!”

Rolling his eyes, Tails turned back to the map. “Fine. We can take my boat. But I need to take a better look at this map in some proper lighting.”

“Deal,” said Knuckles. “You in, Ames?”

“You can count on me! I already have our costumes planned out,” Amy giggled.

“Costumes…?” It didn’t feel like much of a deal to Tails, who’d just been roped into steering a boat for the next several days in whatever outlandish outfit Amy would choose for him. He rolled up the scroll begrudgingly and gathered the other trinkets into their box. Knuckles turned out the torches as the team spilled out into the corridor and followed him back up to the surface. They all squinted harshly as the mid-morning sun burned their eyes.

“Here you go,” Amy told the ladybug, placing it on a small flower. “Hope you find your way back home okay.” She watched it crawl around a bit before spreading its wings and buzzing away happily. She smiled as it flew off, pleased that it was able to make it back to the surface with her help. Once it was out of her sight, Amy joined her friends in making their plans to sail off in the next few days.

The shiny little insect flew and flew, ascending far higher and speeding up to a far quicker pace than any ladybug reasonably should. It continued off the edge of Angel Island, floating high above the land, the sea, then the clouds. It didn’t take the ladybug very long to reach its destination, flying into a tiny steel vent and into a cold, metallic fortress. Once aboard the Egg Carrier, it made its way into a small lab where it landed on a steel desk, ready to address its master.

“It is about time you returned…”

The ladybug spread its wings once more, this time flying into the minuscule port on a computer that topped the desk. A video appeared on the screen that took up the wall ahead, displaying a first-person view from the bug’s perspective. It flew toward Amy Rose, landing on her shoulder just as she descended into a secret passage.

A young boy’s voice was heard. “I’m gonna fall asleep in here…”

“No sleeping!” a gruff voice responded.

“Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here,” Amy could be heard saying before the view changed to atop her finger.

“Interesting.” Metal Sonic locked his fingers together, resting his chin over his thumbs as he leaned in to listen closely. “What are our little heroes up to now?”

----

The following morning, Eggman raised a brow as he enjoyed his coffee with the early news. A field reporter was live from a marina where a crime was committed earlier that day. The spot at the docks where a historic pirate ship normally floated was empty.

“They just sailed off in her!” a frantic man said on TV. “We had a wedding planned there for this afternoon! What are we supposed to do now?”

The show cut back to the news anchor. “The historic Royal Fortune, the antique pirate ship that still operates tours and events to this day, was stolen early this morning as the thieves marooned the crew on a nearby sandbar. The criminals are described as armored and wearing black hooded cloaks. If anyone has news regarding her whereabouts-”

“Hmm…” Eggman muted the show as he heard a loud, metallic clanking forming from the corridor. Metal Sonic strode in from outside the floating fortress with two Silver Sonic Prototypes close behind. All were mysteriously clad in black hooded cloaks as the small minions each carried oversized boxes above their heads.

Eggman leaned back in his chair to look out through the open doorway. “Metal, where were you so early?”

The three robots stopped in their tracks as Metal Sonic turned around to address him momentarily. “Out.” He continued forward without another word.

“I gave you the ability to talk so you could use it, you know,” Eggman grumbled. He took another sip as a loud doorway could be heard opening and shutting down the hall. With a sigh, the old man shook his head, wondering what the dark cloaks were about. Why would they hide their identities to steal the stupid ship? What is he even up to? he asked himself before going back to his coffee.

Once in the privacy of Metal Sonic’s lab, boxes were ripped open and long capes were thrown aside. Metal Sonic stood in front of a full-length mirror examining his freshly painted armor, glittering gold accents reflecting the dull fluorescent lighting. Each of the pint-sized prototypes had received chromatic silver paint jobs as well to differentiate them from the dozen or so other identical bots that performed various tasks around the airship. They both sorted through the boxes, throwing various period garments about the room haphazardly.

Clothes were strewn everywhere by the time Metal Sonic noticed the mess they were making. “I told you two to find me something to wear, not wreck my lab!” The identical minions looked at one another blankly. One of them picked a pair of stays up from in front of him and held for his master to observe. Metal snatched the undergarment from the smaller robot’s clamps and threw it aside. “That is not what I meant!” He picked up a nearby book and ripped it open to a page containing an illustration of a pirate captain. “Find me this,” he pointed at the pirate’s jacket gruffly.

His claw made a loud CLANG against his forehead, saluting Metal before stretching an extendable arm across the room to retrieve a navy coat with gold accents that had been tossed aside. Once in his possession, Metal Sonic draped it over his shoulders and examined his reflection once more. “Hmm… A bit restrictive. H3, scissors.” The other lackey robot took the command, fetching a pair of scissors from a drawer and presenting them to his master. Metal proceeded to chop the coat up into little more than an open vest adorned with golden epaulets draped with tassels at each shoulder. He belted the reconstructed jacket around his waist and stared at his reflection. “What do you think? Missing something?”

The two henchmen examined the book’s illustration again. One of them shot up and dove into one of the boxes, returning with a tricorn cap. He extended his arm and placed the hat atop Metal Sonic’s head while the other clapped his bulky claws together.

“I don’t know…” Metal rested his hands on his hips pensively. “What are you two wearing?”

H3 and his counterpart, H4, looked toward one another with a shrug. They dug through the pile, each digging out a solid-colored scarf. H3 wrapped his blue one around his head like a bandana while H4 tied a red one to his waist. They looked each other up and down for a few moments before deciding in unison to switch their color choices, H3 snatching the red bandana from his brother and pulling it over his head while H4 made a belt of the blue one after ripping it from atop the other’s head. They high-fived to commemorate the decision, their little clamped hands rattling together as they made contact.

“Fine, fine…” Metal waved them off, glancing back at the book once more. The captain sported a sword at his waist. At the bottom of one of the boxes rested an antique cutlass that resembled the one in the drawing, but dulled at the edge. “Yes… This will do.” He picked up the weapon and brandished it ahead of his body “If Sonic’s friends are dressing for the occasion, so shall we!” he cackled. “H4, make sure this gets sharpened,” he barked as he thrust the sword into the minion's hands. “H3, clean up this mess. I have work to do.”

With that, each of the minions loudly saluted Metal Sonic before attending to their tasks. Metal leaned over his desk as the video of the heroes reappeared on the large screen ahead. He was disappointed to learn that he wouldn’t be facing his rival, Sonic- the coward had decided to stay on land. Metal looked from one of their faces to another before settling on Amy Rose’s cheerful expression. “Yes… She will do.” Metal concocted his plan, reveling in the knowledge that once he obtained the Stone Mirror, he would manifest into a form that not Sonic nor his friends could hope to stand a chance against.

Metal had spent much of the last year spying on Sonic and his friends, waiting for an opportunity when he could be one step ahead. He had grown to resent Eggman and his half-baked plans over the years, existing only as an obstacle to the heroes who always seemed to be prepared. Eggman understood this, or at least knew that Metal had begun taking his own initiative when it came to plotting against his rival. When he caught the robot surveilling the team, he made the decision to encourage him, wanting to take advantage of the part of Metal that could think just like his rival. Soon, Metal had been outfitted with a lab of his own and two henchmen to command. Eggman had upgraded him with the ability to speak and emote more expressly not long after, which Metal found both vexing and enthralling, now taking every opportunity to put his thoughts into words.

But Metal ultimately resented this as well as he had no desire to lean on his master. What he yearned for most greatly was to have the independence and autonomy to act on his own. Though Metal wasn’t disloyal to him, Eggman’s incompetence ironically prevented him from accomplishing his objective of eliminating Sonic. Since then, Metal took what he’d been offered as if a birthright and accepted nothing more, opting to source his own necessities. Everything from research to obtaining materials was to be accomplished by him personally- a task he did not take lightly. And because this was the first- no- the only time he would need to defeat his foes, it only made sense to do it in style.

Perishing the thought that whatever deep-seated programming compelled him to these theatrics was likely due to Eggman’s own influence, Metal had gotten to work studying the life of pirate legend Captain Scarlett. Metal did a poor job at hiding the excitement that befell him as he read everything he could process that regarded pirating. Perhaps it was the high stakes and endless freedom the seafaring criminals seemed to command- and what a very “Sonic” thing to be attracted to. He laughed to himself about his organic counterpart’s apparent fear of the ocean.

Then again, it was probably just the dramatic aesthetics.

The old pirate captain had a flair for the dramatic herself. Metal’s research showed that she often left secret messages in her documents such as the one discovered by Amy Rose in that map of theirs, as well as the letters that had been uncovered. Many of the “mysteries” uncovered through time appeared to be rudimentary puzzles really, it was bewildering how the treasure had remained hidden for so long. Still, he didn’t have a map of his own, and tailing the heroes would only get him so far. Metal knew from past experience that the bubbly girl was rather sympathetic. A savior complex, he thought as he studied his past interactions with her. She was the perfect pawn to manipulate into leading him right to the Stone Mirror.

The video was paused on a frame of Amy and her sunny smile. He recalled their first meeting when he captured her and how helpless she had been; But the girl had grown strong over the years, impressing even him with her combat technique. Amy decidedly wasn’t one to be taken lightly anymore, and he would have to be cautious. The compassion she showed towards most creatures was her real weakness, one that was easy to take advantage of. He played back a compilation of videos he’s taken of Amy Rose; her beaming complexion, the charismatic giggle in her voice, the tender pleading in her eyes…

None of that matters! He shook the thought from his head. What he really needed to understand were the driving factors behind her empathy. What could he use against her? He fast-forwarded to a scene of her and the rest of the group reminiscing about past adventures.

On-screen, Amy sat between Sonic and Tails in the sand, all enjoying an afternoon together at the beach. Knuckles could be heard off-screen. “Yeah, I still can’t believe Amy convinced that robot to let her go! What was it called again?”

“His name was Gamma. Honestly, he was able to think for himself after we became friends- it didn’t take much to convince him that he could disobey Eggman if he wanted to.” she twirled the front of her spines bashfully.

Sonic laughed. “Well good thing you made friends with him! I nearly turned him to scrap metal.”

“Come on, he did a lot of good before… you know.” There was some sadness in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Sonic agreed. “Hey, maybe you could convince Egg-head to do some good for once, too.”

Metal paused the video as they laughed together. “He did a lot of good.” Yes, Metal knew exactly how to get the sweet girl on his side- he was confident it wouldn’t take much convincing on his part, either.

The lab door was suddenly slammed open. “H4, what have I told you about-” Metal paused, faced not with his lackey but with a very animated Eggman.

“Metal! I just saw H4’s new paint job- excellent work! We should outfit all the prototypes with it,” he bellowed.

Narrowing his eyes, Metal turned back toward the screen to brood silently.

Eggman took a few steps into the room before continuing. “Tell me, though, what’s with all the pirate outfits? You putting on a show?” he feigned ignorance over the stolen ship and nudged the box closest to him with his foot. H3 popped his head out from the pile of clothes within with a clanky salute. “This one too, eh? I like the look.” There was no response from Metal but the quickening hum of his turbine as he grew annoyed at the interruption. “That hat will probably impede your hearing, though…”

He continued taking steps into the room, stopping just behind Metal to join him in looking at the screen ahead. It was still paused on a still of Amy looking cheerful. “Studying our heroes again, are we? You sure seem to like this one... She’s pretty cute.”

Metal whipped around to face him once again, this time with blazing eyes. “What are you-”

“I bet you could kidnap her again easily,” Eggman interrupted with a grin and a snap of his fingers.

“Get out!” Metal roared, rising from his seat.

Eggman laughed heartily. “Alright, alright- tell me if you need anything for your little production!”

As the scientist turned on his heel and made his way back toward the open door, H4 was scuttling in with the now sharpened cutlass held carelessly above him. He came to a skidding halt at the sight of Eggman, bringing his hand up to his forehead and dropping the sword noisily on the steel floor in the process. The man cackled at him, bending down to pick up the weapon and examine it. “Nice sword, not that you need it. Teach your lackeys to be a little more careful with sharp objects, hm?” Eggman tossed the sword to Metal, who caught it effortlessly, rolling his eyes.

“... Fine.” he finally responded before taking his seat again and swiveling back toward the giant monitor. He shut off the program that played back the videos.

“Atta boy.” With that, Eggman made his way out of the room. H4 shot out his arm, slamming his claw against a button that shut the door behind him.

The sword gleamed in the harsh lighting as Metal held it up to inspect. Eggman was correct, of course- Metal didn’t need a weapon- he was one. But the added flourish couldn’t hurt, he thought as he swung it through the air, a small WHIP whispering across the room each time he waved it. Metal wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but his creator had a point about his interest in Amy Rose, as well...

An alert flashed on the screen ahead before he could be forced to think about it. “GPS Tracker Activated”. A map popped up showing a blinking red dot, indicating the location of Tails’ boat.

“Finally…” Metal stood, raising a foot on his chair and brandishing the cutlass proudly. “Prepare the ship- we sail at dawn!”

-----

Amy yawned as she got dressed the following morning. The TV was tuned to the news, where a reporter was commenting on the authorities’ inability to find any leads in the case of the Royal Fortune’s theft. “Weird…” Amy remarked to herself out loud. She was tying a blue ascot around the collar of her dress- a white, long-sleeved piece with blue stripes at the hem and cuffs. She had purchased the sailor suit impulsively with the hopes of going sailing leisurely with her friends, but she supposed a maritime mission was occasion enough.

Hearing the whistle of a boat in the distance, she quickly pinned on her hat and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. She lived on the beach and the boys had agreed to meet her there before sailing off. The whistle howled once more and she hurried out of her little shack, running toward the shore. “I’m here already! Quit hollering,” she grumbled. A steel ladder was lowered and she tossed her bag for Knuckles to catch before climbing her way up.

The boat was nothing like the pirate ship she’d seen on TV that morning. It was a sleek white vessel with blue chrome accents that glittered in the early sunlight. The small yacht was equipped with every manner of boating technology that Tails could cram onto it. A door beneath the elevated helm opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down to the main quarters. Knuckles lugged Amy’s bag over his shoulder, beckoning her to the opening.

“Wait! Before you put that away…” Amy unzipped the front pocket.

Knuckles grumbled. “Before I put it away?”

“Yes, thank you for that,” she chuckled, pulling out a pair of themed hats- a sailor’s cap similar to her own, and a white service cap with gold accents. “I figured you guys would prefer these to clothes.”

“Hmm,” Knuckles examined the headwear as she unfurled each one and held them up. “I suppose a captain’s hat would be fitting…” he reached out to take it from her when Tails suddenly interrupted.

“Uh, my ship- If anyone’s captain, it’s me.”

With an incredulous look, Knuckles turned his chin up to address him. “My mission, my hat- I’m captain. You’re navigating.”

“Oh and I suppose this boat’s gonna steer itself?” Tails said in a mocking tone.

“You think I don’t know how to drive a boat?” Knuckles was yelling now.

“Like I’d let you even if you could.”

“Alright,” Amy interrupted, “That’s enough- we have to be on this boat together for the next week. You two better get along!”

“Fine,” Knuckles crossed his arms. “Who do you think should be captain?”

“Tails,” she responded without hesitation.

“What?!”

Tails snickered from above. “Do you even have a boating license, Knuckles?”

His expression of rage quickly turned blank. His teammates both watched as the gears seemed to turn in his head. “... No.”

Amy and Tails both broke out into a fit of laughter. Knuckles snatched the sailor’s cap from her hand and stomped down the stairs with the duffel bag, grumbling choice words under his breath. “Here you go,” she tossed the captain’s hat up to Tails.

“Thank you,” he smirked triumphantly. “We’re ready to go- let’s let Sonic know before we sail off.” Amy made her way up and stood by him as Tails made a video call on a tablet. Sonic appeared on it a moment later.

“Yo,” he winked. “Looking good, guys.”

“Thank you,” Amy giggled bashfully.

“We’re about to sail,” Tails interjected before she could start chatting. “Everything good on your end?”

“Yep, just me and the Master Emerald. Pretty boring…”

“Don’t let Knuckles hear you say that.”

The three shared a chuckle before Amy and Tails waved to Sonic and signed off. The boat’s ladder ascended from the sand as Tails made the final preparations to sail. Knuckles reemerged from the doorway below as the vessel began moving, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“Where’s your uniform, skipper?” Tails chortled, noticing that he hadn’t donned the white and blue cap.

“Watch it,” he threatened, eyes fixed on the horizon.

As the boat slid away from the shore and into the open ocean, Tails and Amy chuckled to themselves, ready for the adventure ahead. Unbeknownst to them, however, they weren’t the only ones tracking their whereabouts.

Back at the Egg Carrier, Metal and his lackeys were getting ready to mobilize.

The three bots snuck out of the lab and through the steel corridors, making sure to fly to keep noise to a minimum. It was dark- Eggman either wasn’t up or was too fixated on his work to notice them anyway. Once they reached the outdoor deck, each landed on the edge for a moment, H3 and H4 awaiting commands. “We will stay off their radar by remaining some distance away, and intercept them at this first meeting spot,” Metal explained. “But we need to catch up. Now, to the ship!”

But before he could lift off, a mechanical squeaking caught Metal’s attention from behind. He turned his vision to the distraction, claws outstretched in case someone was trying to stop him. His gaze was met by that of another Silver Sonic Prototype, who then imitated the awkward saluting motion the other two greeted their masters with. Metal narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously but lowered his guard. “What is the meaning of this?”

The small robot seemed to pull a yellow bandana from out of nowhere and quickly tied it below his muzzle, looking back up at Metal Sonic with his permanent sly grin. Metal scratched his chin pensively. “You wish to join us?” The prototype’s joints squeaked as it bobbed its head quickly and violently, causing Metal to slap his hand atop it like he was hitting a switch. “Enough! You’ll alert the others. Hm… State your serial number.” He lifted his right foot to reveal a string of numbers written on the sole, the last of which were “H1.”

“Ah, the very first…” Metal processed the unexpected interruption for a moment. He didn’t know how the robot had discovered his intentions, but there wasn’t much time to lose. At this point taking the additional support with him would at least keep word from getting to Eggman if H1 made a fuss. Metal supposed he could just deactivate him and toss him overboard, but…

“Very well, you may join me... But your outfit needs work. I’ll brief you on the ship- move!”

H1 threw its hands in the air with excitement, the four of them taking off. Metal Sonic lead the charge to the ship anchored about a mile away as they shot down through the high clouds.

-----

“Are we there yet?” Amy groaned from a lounge seat on the upper deck. The excitement from that morning had slowly turned to a boring exhaustion as the day dragged on. It was impossibly hot- the sun’s rays intensified by the inescapable humidity. The sun would be setting in another hour and they’d all been up since dawn, but Amy was the wariest.

“You know this is gonna take days, right?” Tails yawned. He had joined her on the deck while the boat was on auto-pilot, not intending to change direction for some time.

“I thought this first place was supposed to be close…”

“Yeah, it’s only a 12-hour boat ride,” he shrugged sarcastically. “But who knows how far the actual treasure is?”

“You two need to stop your belly-aching, you’re already getting on my nerves.” Knuckles was seated cross-legged on the roof of the helm. The others were sure he’d bake to death.

“Easy for you to say, all you do all day is sit around!” Amy huffed.

Tails checked his tablet, which he’d equipped with a navigator. “We’re actually pretty close… We’ll be coming up on these coordinates in about 20 minutes.”

Amy stretched her arms in an attempt to liven herself up. “Great! Then we have to figure out this weird puzzle…”

“I’m sure it’ll be obvious once we’re there,” said Knuckles. Tails couldn’t help but think he sounded awfully confident for someone who had no idea how to navigate.

“Hey, what is that…?” Tails hurried to take a pair of binoculars from his equipment and ran to the bow, staring into the horizon. The others listened in, Amy sitting up in the chair and squinting her eyes ahead. “Uh, there’s another boat over there… a big one.” The team all scrambled to the front of the boat, trying to look through the binoculars at once. A bright white ship could be seen in the distance- at least three times the size of Tail’s boat but just as modern. As they inched closer, some of the crew could be seen pacing around the main deck.

“Give me those,” Knuckles snatched away the binoculars for himself, zooming in on the ship’s bow as close as he could get them to focus. “You have got to be kidding me…”

“Rouge.” The woman he considered his arch-rival was sauntering about the bow of her ship, the stitched-together map in hand as she conversed with some crewmates. Two men each lugging a huge camera over their shoulder stood on either side of them. Amy and Tails groaned upon hearing Knuckles utter her name with disdain, knowing the squabbling that would come next. He watched as she squinted in the direction of their boat once they were in view of one another.

Tails brought his vessel in close to her ship, which towered above theirs. Rouge had to lean over the side railing to look down at the team. “Oh my, what is it you want?” she frowned.

Knuckles raised a foot to rest on a railing of his own. “We’re after Scarlett’s treasure, and you’re in our way.”

“I mean, they’re not really in our way,” Tails grumbled. “Can you take your foot down from there?”

“Quiet,” Knuckles held a palm up to him, chin still pointed up at Rouge.

One of the cameramen leaned over next to her, pointing his recording device directly at Knuckles. Rouge continued with a smirk. “It looks like we have some competition- not that they stand a chance at finding it before I do.”

Knuckles squinted. “What’s with the cameras?”

“Cameras?” Amy skipped over next to him and waved up at the ship. “Are you guys making a movie?”

“A documentary,” Rouge nodded. “And you look so cute. What do you think of this?” Rouge batted her wings and flew up to hover just above the railing, the camera following her as she did. She wore a brocade bustier over a lacey flared-sleeve linen blouse and fitted black trousers tucked into leather boots. She looked like a true pirate.

“Oh,” Amy beamed, “Gorgeous!”

Knuckles raised his voice as his vexation grew. “What the hell is happening? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Aesthetic,” she shrugged. “And how did you find this place, anyway? Are you tracking us?”

“I’ll have you know that treasure you’re after contains sacred Knuckles Tribe artifacts, and we have Captain Scarlett’s original map.” Knuckles crossed his arms confidently.

“No kidding?” Rouge pouted. “Well, good luck- we’ve been here for hours and can’t figure out where we’re supposed to go from here.”

“Typical!” Knuckles shot back.

“Hmph- If you’re so knowledgeable, hotshot, let’s see you navigate from here!” Rouge flew off out of sight with the cameraman on her heels.

“Whatever-” Knuckles marched up to the helm where Tails had already begun studying the map. “So... where do we go from here?”

“Beats me…” he shrugged.

“Are you serious?”

Amy joined them, picking up the crystal eyeglass and bringing it to her eye. She expected it to magnify things, but it didn’t appear to be a telescope. “Well, this has to have something to do with it. Hmm…”

“Don’t forget the compass.” Tails brought it up to eye-level. “It’s pointing south by south-west. Weird.”

“What did the map say again?”

Tails held it up to the light, reading aloud. “‘Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.’ Whatever that means…”

“‘Sky above turned’... Like, turned to night?” Amy raised the eyepiece up high. The soft blue sky turned an intense shade of cobalt when viewed through the glass. “Ohhh, how pretty,” she remarked. “Glassy eyes…” Amy turned to tails with a gasp.

“The eyeglass!” they said in unison.

“But do we have to look up at the sky during the nighttime then?” Tails scratched his chin.

“I don’t think we’ll see much at night with this thing- it just turns everything blue.”

Knuckles took it from her, glancing through it with one eye. “What’s this even for?”

“I thought it was a spyglass, but it doesn’t magnify anything. It’s just a blue glass at the end.”

“That’s useless…” The three of them pondered on it as the sun neared the horizon. It would be dark soon- they didn’t want to be stuck there trying to figure it out overnight. Both teams were so deep in contemplation that they hardly noticed a third object approaching on their radar until it could be seen in the distance.

“Is that a pirate ship?” Rouge could be heard from her ship’s deck. She flew up to get a better look through a telescope. “Do you guys have anything to do with this?” she accused.

“Uh, definitely not” Tails answered, glancing through his own binoculars. He zoomed in as far as the lenses allowed. A lanky figure with a spiky head could just barely be made out. “Is that… Sonic?”

“What? Gimme those,” Amy yanked them away from him to look. “Hey- isn’t that the pirate ship that was stolen yesterday?”

“You’re right!” Rouge shouted. “And that does look like Sonic…”

Amy gasped in realization. “That’s not Sonic… That’s Metal Sonic.”

“Oh great, now we gotta deal with Eggman, too?” Knuckles groaned. “What could he want?”

The ship was fast approaching. Rouge shouted orders at her crew, instructing them to ready their weapons. The TV crew scrambled around frantically, trying to catch all the action. Amy and Knuckles looked at Tails expectantly, not having anticipated getting into a battle at sea.

“I got this. Everyone get close!” Amy gathered the map, eyepiece, and compass and held onto them tightly as they scurried together at the helm. Tails entered a set of commands and the boat began to separate in two, bisected vertically to make way for an enormous cannon that rose from beneath the deck. The helm was raised up and back, a shield forming around it like a cockpit. “Knuckles, cannon. Amy, be on the lookout from the starboard and stem. I’ll keep an eye on the port side while I steer.”

“Roger!” they shouted in unison.

Metal Sonic’s ship approached from the south, circling around both vessels as it came close. “Ahoy!” his voice came shouting out of a speaker. He cackled as his opponents all seemed to look to one another with bewilderment.

“Could he always talk?” Tails asked his friends.

Amy shuttered. “Not always…”

Rouge’s voice was amplified by a megaphone as she flew above her ship’s bow to address Metal Sonic. “Tell us what The Doctor is up to!”

“‘The Doctor’ has nothing to do with this. I’m here for her,” he extended a long, spiked claw to point directly at Amy, who jumped at the announcement.

“Wh- Me?”

“Yes, you. Now come, join my crew!” His hand closed into a fist as he made the demand. No one was more dumbfounded than Amy. At a loss for words, she looked incredulously at Metal Sonic. “Well, come on, I haven’t got all night.”

Shaking her head of the confusion, Amy finally answered. “Uh… no thanks?”

Everyone turned their attention back to Metal. He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms behind him authoritatively. “Are you sure?”

All eyes shifted back to Amy. She was red as a tomato at all the attention. “P-positive…”

“Hm, very well.” Metal took some steps back onto the deck of the Royal Fortune, turning away from the others. Rouge held a hand back to her crew, a few of whom stood on the deck behind her with rifles. Tails and Amy glanced at one another while Knuckles held his fighting stance. Then, Metal spoke again. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.”

Without warning, a cannon exploded in the direction of Tails’ boat. The three hit the deck as the cannon fodder made contact and shook the vessel. Rouge’s crew opened fire on Metal Sonic’s ship, making bullet holes in the old wood but leaving the robot unaffected as the ammunition bounced off his body. He gave her a look of boredom.

The sun began to set as it all unfolded, casting a deep ruby light over the environment. Amy struggled to find her balance and retrieve the eyepiece and compass that had rolled around the floor at the collision. The compass slipped out of her grip, too, sliding down the deck just beside the glass. She moved to snatch both pieces up but stopped when she noticed something glowing upon the compass in the light that reflected from the eyepiece. Picking them up carefully, Amy brought the spyglass up to look at the compass through. Drawn across the arrow was another arrow, pointing in the opposite direction. It illuminated as she looked at it through the glass and disappeared otherwise. “‘Sky turned…’ Oh! Scarlett!” The intense red light cast from the sunset had combined with the blue filter on the glass to reveal the otherwise hidden image. Upon turning the compass around, Amy found some text on the back in the same glowing lettering.

“Amy, move!” Knuckles shouted from behind. She didn’t have time to react before she felt a metallic coil snake around her waist and pull her backward. It wasn’t a cannonball that Metal Sonic had fired, it was one of his minions, H3 with his extendable arms. Amy screamed as she suddenly lurched away.

“Hang on-” Tails commanded, turning the cannon sharply and causing the vessel to shutter again. H3 struggled to maintain his balance until Knuckles came up on his side and smashed a fist into his head, sending the bot flying off the side of the boat. He released Amy instinctually, using his arms to latch onto the railing instead.

Amy landed on her feet, the artifacts still in hand. “Tails, the compass! Look!”

“Little busy!” Tails was turning the wheel at the helm frantically, trying to swing the cannon back around to fire back at Metal Sonic.

“We have to hurry before the sun goes down! We need the red light!” She ran back to the safety of the helm, where the shield protected them from the front. The cannon charged as she scrambled to read the inscription aloud in the dimming light. “‘The Mirror’s bloodlust was nothing to me, for I’d have bled myself dry for you.’ Huh? Hey, this mentions the mirror-��

Tails pulled the trigger then, expecting some kickback from the blast. Instead, the entire front of the vessel was launched upward, the shot deflected into the sky; something had come up beneath them, turning the boat up and threatening to sink it. Everyone aboard lost their balance as the boat listed back. Tails managed to hold on by the helm and Knuckles by a side railing, but Amy was sent sliding down, shrieking as she rolled overboard off the stern.

Metal Sonic looked on in a panic as it unfolded. “Nooo!” his eyes blazed down at whatever had emerged from the sea to cause the collision. A huge steel submarine sat with its nose just under the front of the boat. “Aaaaargh!” he roared in realization. The logo plastered on each side of it gave it away- it belonged to Dr. Eggman.

“Attack!” the command could be heard coming from the half-submerged vessel. Two oversized badniks emerged from the water, a crablike robot that crawled up the side of the submarine and began blasting at Rouge’s ship, and another shaped like a torpedo made to resemble a shark which hurdled itself toward Tails’ boat, causing it to shake and list further.

“Amy! Knuckles!” Tails shouted. He was able to kick himself off and fly, taking the map as he looked for his friends.

“Over here,” Knuckles called. He reached up for Tails’ hand. “Where’s Amy?”

As she finally emerged from the water, Amy coughed and waved her arm up frantically. Spotting her, Rouge flew overhead. “I’ve got her!”

“No, you don’t,” Metal Sonic flew into Rouge’s side, kicking her out of the air and into the water with a grunt. He made his way to Amy, lifting her by the arm out of the murky water. She coughed and sputtered, but clutched onto both the compass and spyglass with her other hand. He pulled her up further to hold by the waist at his side as he circled his way around to pick up H3, still dangling off the side of Tails’ boat. He narrowly missed a direct hit from the shark badnik when it leaped out of the water for another hit.

“Be more careful! You are not to hit Metal Sonic!” Eggman’s voice screeched from the submarine.

Metal flew over it on his way back to the ship. “Why are you here?!”

Amy had begun struggling under Metal Sonic’s grip, threatening to hurdle herself back into the ocean. “Let me go! I don’t want to join your weird crew!”

“Stop your squirming! Do you have a death wish?” Just as he finished the statement, Amy wormed her way out from under his arm and fell headfirst toward the water. Thinking fast, Metal chucked H3 toward his ship with a CLANG and dove for her. He was just quick enough to catch the girl before she fell in again, supporting her back and legs against him tightly; she wasn’t going to get out of this one so easily.

“What do you even want with me?” she yelled, trying to push away from him in vain.

Metal looked down at her, forcing eye contact. “... I need you.” He tried to sound sincere.

“What-”

Bullets began raining down on them now that they were directly across from Rouge’s ship. Metal pulled Amy’s body in, deflecting the fire. “Is anyone here sane?!” Amy actually made an effort to cling to him now, drawing her knees as close as she could muster.

“Stop firing, you idiots, he has the girl!” Rouge wailed, finally hovering up and recovering from her run-in with Metal Sonic. “Are you trying to get her killed?!” She landed on the front of the submarine and swung her leg down on the crab robot’s face, splitting it in two. Meanwhile, Knuckles threw his fist into the side of the other badnik and rendered it useless as it flopped back into the water. Tails carried him up to the deck of the ship with Rouge not far behind.

Metal flew into the hole in the side of the ship from which the cannon stuck out, allowing him to take them out of harm’s way faster. He dropped her harshly on her behind once they were inside. “H4, H1, make sure she doesn’t escape,” he commanded before flying up toward the main deck.

“Ouch! Hey, wait- what do you want with me?” Amy got on her feet and was ready to chase after him when a pair of snaky appendages started winding themselves around her. “Not... again!” she wiggled out an arm, summoning her hammer; but another clawed hand shot out and knocked it from her grip, confining her before she could retrieve it. There was no squirming away now. “Metal! Get back down here and tell these things to let me gooo!” she screeched before one of H1’s arms coiled over her mouth like a muffler.

On deck, Metal Sonic hoisted the sails and began navigating away from the battle. Eggman had stuck his head out of the top of the submarine, waving at him. “Great work, Metal! I’ll hold them off.” the old man just barely dodged one of Rouge’s bullets before scurrying back in.

Enraged by The Doctor’s presence, Metal was tempted to disobey and continue fighting out of spite- but he had what he’d come for. Resenting the “help,” he blasted “Stay out of this!” at Eggman as his ship sailed into the darkening horizon.

-----

In the aftermath of the battle, Rouge tramped around the ship shouting orders with cameramen on her heels. Eggman escaped once Metal Sonic had enough of a lead. Now, one of the ship‘s engines was badly damaged and engineers were sent down to make what repairs they could while Tails and Knuckles were given towels to dry off with. They sat in the enclosed cockpit discussing their next steps.

“I can’t believe they sunk my boat…” Tails was sitting with his head in his hands sorrowfully, lamenting the loss of his tech. “All that equipment…”

Knuckles sat with his arms crossed, grumbling. “Yeah, and now we have no chance of getting to the treasure before Rouge…” She marched into the room just then, slamming the door behind her and locking out the camera crew with a huff. Raising a brow, Knuckles addressed her. “Speak of the devil…”

“Don’t start!” she shot back at him. “I just saved your sorry behinds from being stranded at sea. I’m dropping you off at the next port-of-call, so don’t get too comfortable!” Rouge had a towel draped over her shoulders but hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes. She was getting goosebumps in the cool, air-conditioned room.

“We’re stopping? But we need to get to that treasure before Metal Sonic and save Amy!” Tails protested.

She marched up to the helm and pointed at several flashing indicator lights. “We can hardly go anywhere right now. Half the ship is under duress and we need to stop somewhere for repairs. I’m waiting for a tow.” Crossing her arms, she turned away from the pair. “And you are not part of my crew- we’re leaving you ashore.”

“Like hell you are!” Knuckles stomped over to her, placing a gruff hand on her shoulder. She was not amused, slapping it away from her.

“Hands off! Or would you rather we throw you overboard now?”

“And you’re fine with just abandoning Amy, then?”

With a gasp, Rouge whirled around again, hiding the shame on her face. “What do you want me to do? The ship’s barely operational, and I have a crew to think about…”

Knuckles grumbled but didn’t have a response. He hated to admit it, but she was right- they needed a ship to catch up to Metal Sonic, and theirs wouldn’t make it far.

“Can I take a look at the damage, Rouge?” Tails chimed in. They both looked back at him, then at each other.

Rouge shrugged with a slight shiver. “Fine- you probably know better than my best engineer anyway…”

“No doubt,” Knuckles retorted. “Go change, would ya? You look like you’re freezing.”

“Hmph!” she glared at him. Picking up a microphone, she pressed a button that called the engine room. “I’m sending another engineer down, you are to do what he asks.” Once she received confirmation, Rouge slammed her own compass and eyeglass on the counter atop her map. “And figure this out!” With that, she was off, out a side door and into her quarters. The door shut harshly behind her.

“Hm.” Knuckles leaned back on the wall. “Now the question is, where do we go from here?”

“We’ll need a red light to find out. Come on,” Tails snatched up the items she’d left behind and beckoned his friend to join him in the engine room.

“A red-? Huh?”

Ignoring their questions as they went, Tails and Knuckles weaved around the camera crew that still lingered outside the room and headed down into the ship’s depths.

Some miles away, Amy’s muffled yelling could be heard below the deck of Metal Sonic’s ship. He descended the stairs slowly, stopping in front of her. He made a motion as if to clear his throat and addressed the girl. “Apologies for the restraints. I thought you might be liable to tear the ship apart otherwise.” He signaled for H1 to unwrap his arm, allowing her to speak freely.

“I’ll tear you apart first!” she writhed under the metal coils to no avail.

“If you don’t settle down, we will just have to wait for you to tire yourself out,” he shrugged. “And you’ll find there’s nowhere to go at sea but down- so I’d be careful about threatening the captain.”

Amy huffed and puffed but couldn’t get out from under the weight of so many restraints. Panting, she finally relented, raising her intense glare at him. “What do you want?”

Metal let out a mechanical “sigh,” as if exasperated. He stood with his hands at his hips, leaning forward slightly. “I do not wish to harm you…” It wasn’t a lie- not yet, anyway. “I’ll cut to the chase: I am after the Stone Mirror-”

“And why would I help you with that?”

“Silence!” he commanded. Amy scoffed, turning her head away. “Now... Why don’t we speak in private, hm?” With a snap of his metallic fingers, the heavy arms all snaked away from Amy, putting her down on her feet gingerly. She gazed from bot to bot with caution. Metal pointed at the wooden staircase with both arms. “After you.”

“Hmph!” Carefully, Amy made her way past each of Metal Sonic’s minions and then himself. They began up the stairs while he followed her closely. He looked away for a moment to signal something to the others; Amy saw an opening. In an instant, her hammer appeared in her fist as she swung around to smash it into the side of his face, knocking him off the third step and onto the floor.

Metal Sonic shook his head violently as the light in his left eye flickered. Unfortunately for Amy, it didn’t actually impair his vision and he managed to catch up to her in a manner of seconds. H3 was already whipping his arms around and charging at Amy when Metal Sonic came up from behind to restrain her. “H3, stop at once!” The small henchmen dove onto his back at the sudden command, sliding across the deck with his extended arms dangling behind. He crashed into a beam feet-first, causing it to rattle.

Kicking and flailing, Amy was only able to bring her weapon down behind her, repeatedly hammering the top of Metal’s head. “Let! Me! Go!”

“What do you even plan to do once you ‘destroy’ me? I told you, there’s nowhere to go- And stop the incessant hammering!” He pulled one of his arms away from her, seizing her hammer and chucking it overboard. The repeated hits to the head finally took out the LEDs in his left eye as it went out completely. He pushed her away and she turned back to him. To his surprise, the giant mallet was already back in her grip when she did. “What- How? Why?!”

Amy was breathing heavily, holding her hammer to her front defensively. Realistically, she knew he was right- even if she managed to take him and the others out, she’d just be lost at sea. Maybe he really wasn’t trying to hurt her… he had asked that smaller robot to stop attacking, after all. But Amy couldn’t see what good giving him access to the Stone Mirror would do. “What do you want with the mirror, anyway?” she asked, doubting he’d give a straight answer.

Metal Sonic straightened up into a neutral pose, smoothing down his lapel. His glare softened as an eyelid cast down over his functioning eye. “I shall tell you… After you stop dripping all over my deck.” Amy winced, realizing how sopping wet she still was from her dip in the ocean. Saltwater dripped from her quills and dress and had begun to puddle at her feet. “There’s a change of clothes in my quarters. Will you stop being combative and listen?”

Lowering her hammer- but not putting it away- Amy nodded reluctantly. “You first this time.”

“... Very well.” Metal Sonic led the way across the elevated deck to a set of double doors, opening one and motioning for Amy to enter. She hung back suspiciously. Metal rolled the eye he had left and entered first, allowing her to close the door behind them. Once inside, he plopped down on a large armchair, propping his feet up on the wooden table in front of him. “I’ve set something out for you there,” he pointed at an antique screen in the corner of the room. “Try not to take all night.”

Amy’s glare didn’t stray until she was safely behind the screen, when she put away her hammer. There was a frilled white blouse and ankle-length maroon skirt hanging beside some black stockings and red boots. A towel hung over the screen. Is he serious? She hesitated for a moment, wondering how she ever ended up in such a scenario, playing dress-up for one of her worst enemies. But the situation was hopeless if she didn’t comply. She just had to play along and wait for backup for the time being…

After 10 minutes of waiting, Metal grew impatient. “Do you need assistance?” he mocked.

“No!” Amy emerged a moment later, awkwardly shoving the bottom of the shirt into the bell-shaped skirt. She’d slipped the compass and spyglass into each of her sleeves in the absence of pockets. “Thanks for the clothes or whatever, but why this?”

Ignoring her question, Metal stood and approached her. She took a step back. “Hm… Needs accessories.” His heavy steps clopped against the hardwood floor as Metal strode to another box of costumes. He dug out a set of square scarves and made his way back to where she stood, as non-threateningly as possible. Standing silently, Amy crossed her arms over the front of her body; she didn’t know what to expect. “Would you try these on?”

Amy was in disbelief. What did he want with her that required such a costume? She took the large square of fabric from him and examined them, unsure what she was meant to do. “Uh…”

“Allow me.” Metal held out an unassuming arm. The annoyance on Amy’s face was clear as she placed them back in his hand and brought her hands up to her hips impatiently. “Lift your arms.”

“What?”

“These go around your waist. Now, lift your arms.”

She did what he asked with a grumble, gasping as he tightened each of them around her and tied the ends into forceful knots. Metal took a step back and admired her outfit. “Yes, very ‘pirate,’ don’t you think?” He motioned to a floor mirror across the room.

“I guess…” Keeping his reflection in her sights, Amy walked over to it. She was incredibly weirded out by his insistence, but supposed it could have been worse…

Her captor’s reflection grew nearer as he came up next to her, examining his face. “You really did a number on my eye; I’m impressed. But I wonder if it’ll affect…”

“Hrm- I put on your silly outfit, now will you tell me what you want?”

The single burning eye on his face shot at her briefly. Rather than frightened, the girl seemed irritated at the situation. He measured her heart rate- it was consistent with that of a person at rest now. Her behavior was almost admirable. “It is only fair,” he said, taking a seat back at the table. “Sit.”

“Is the word ‘please’ in your vocabulary?” she spat back.

Another eye-roll from Metal. “Please… sit.” Amy complied. She squirmed a bit as she sat, feeling restrained by the many layers around her midsection. She wondered silently if that was part of his plan. “The Stone Mirror. It allows one to become their ‘most desired self,’ is that correct?”

There was no way Metal Sonic should have known that. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

His eye narrowed at her. “Fine- I will be honest. I know this only from spying on you and your friends. I have nothing to hide.”

“Is admitting it supposed to make it better?”

“No… I suppose not.” He leveraged himself against the table to stand. That glowing eye followed Amy as he paced around the perimeter of the table until he stopped at her side. “I know what the mirror is capable of, and I would like your help to retrieve it.” Leaning back on the table, he pointed at the cuffs of her sleeves. “The compass, if you will…”

“You still haven’t told me why you kidnapped me.”

There was a silent pause. Metal locked his gaze with hers and softened his tone. “You are a compassionate person, Amy Rose. I believe you will understand my need to obtain this artifact.”

“Which is?”

He feigned another sigh. “I am growing tired of being under The Doctor’s command. He has given me some freedom, but…” Looking up, he crossed his arms defensively. “What I am most interested in is my autonomy.” His “acting” would have been impeccable if what he was saying was at all a lie. He hadn’t gotten around to his scheme yet.

“Okay…” The frown on her face told him she was listening, but still wary.

“I do not believe I will be able to achieve that in this form, you see.”

“So, what form are you trying to take? Another giant monster?”

“An organic form,” he responded simply.

Amy was taken aback. “A… A what?” Metal’s engine hummed in the quiet air. He began moving again, circling behind Amy, who didn’t take her eyes off him until he stopped on her other side. She wanted to stare at him intensely, to show that she wasn’t letting her guard down, but there was an impossible longing on his face. It was hard to look directly at him.

“It’s simple- I am a robot. I have an advanced AI far beyond that of others like me, but… There is something missing. This body, although immortal and perfect in design, seems to weigh me down.” He knelt down beside her so he was no longer looming, believing it made him appear more humble. “I wish to think for my own… to feel.”

The moment was uncomfortable. Amy recoiled slightly when he’d come down, trying in vain to avoid locking eyes with him. He sounded so sincere. How could it be possible? “Wh- Why didn’t you just take the compass and run? Why did you have to bring me?”

“I took you so your friends wouldn’t attack me directly and spoil my plans.”

“So I’m a shield?”

“Not quite. I could have taken anyone- I chose you because,” he reached a hand out, gently taking hold of one of hers. She snatched it back with a glare. “Hm. I chose you because I believed you would understand my need and if the necessity arose, you could help me convince your team... I suppose I was mistaken,” he pushed himself upright.

“Wait,” Amy felt like she would regret it, but her good nature didn’t allow her to walk away from someone who seemed so desperate to change for the better- especially an enemy. “Can you… really not be free like this? You seem to have your own will…”

The trap was working. Metal found it easier to keep up the charade than he originally thought. “My thoughts and feelings are simulated. Would you feel ‘free’ if someone could reprogram you and take your memories at any moment?”

“Does… does Eggman do that?”

“... He has.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Oh,” Amy breathed. She held onto her wrists tightly, feeling for the compass and spyglass. This could all be a trap, she could be walking to her doom, and yet… “How do I know you’re not just gonna turn around and transform into something horrible?”

“You don’t. But…” he loomed over her chair slightly. “I will get what I want. You can either help me, or be stranded on the first remote island we come across until your friends rescue you. As it stands, you are only added assurance. The choice is yours.”

So he was back to threatening her. Amy thought about it- he really didn’t need her. If he had evil intentions, Metal Sonic could have just as easily taken what he wanted from her and locked her up, or worse. Instead, he asked for her help. It was unprecedented. Then again, Amy thought she could at the very least stall him- pry into his plan and see if she could discern whether he was being truthful... And it was either that or become a castaway.

She turned back to him with resolve on her face. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

The first phase of the plan was officially a success. Now, all Metal needed to do was keep up the act and use her presence to his advantage should her friends catch up to them. Better not to celebrate, yet- he didn’t want to sound too confident. “Thank you, Amy Rose. I knew I could count on you.” He extended his hand once more, this time waiting for her response. She stood up and shook it with a nod.

“Just Amy is fine. And I hope this means you’ll start thinking for yourself instead of blindly coming after us.”

“Cutting words, Amy…” He may have held her in that handshake a bit harder than necessary as she couldn’t hide the slight wince in her eyes. “Now, the compass.”

A sly smile spread on her face. “No ‘please’?”

Cheeky. Perhaps, Metal thought, she would be more interesting to keep as company than he thought. “Please,” he said in a low growl, drawing her in closer with a harsh tug.

“Ugh,” Amy yanked her hand away from him distastefully. “Here, weirdo.” She pulled the compass from her sleeve and tossed it to him.

“Hm. I believe the next words are ‘thank you.’” Metal examined the compass front and back. “Perhaps you think you’ve stumped me without the little spyglass in the sunset, but…” A purplish glow came from his eye as he cast it down on the navigation device. “I am still a robot, after all.”

With a scoff, Amy crossed her arms. She’d hoped to buy herself some time by not sharing the “solution” with him, but of course, he had a sharp eye. If she wasn’t able to trick him, she’d just have to get in his way.

“An inscription and all. So theatrical,” Metal chuckled. “Even back then, one could simply shine a red light upon this and use the glass filter…”

“You’re one to talk about theatrics.” She wasn’t sure if she should nod toward his outfit or the entire ship.

He let out a metallic laugh. “And here I thought you’d be entertained by all this. Come, we can finally navigate.”

With that, Metal Sonic led Amy out onto the main deck. She followed him cautiously, taking note of her surroundings. Each of the little henchmen clinked their clamped hands to their heads as their master passed. They were cute in their strange little way, their wide smiles making them look silly for the most part. Amy couldn’t help cracking a smile at the one who stood under the roof of the helm. She gave him a little wave and he reacted by springing his arms to the side and doing a handstand. “Pfff!” Amy cracked up.

“H1- stop fooling around. The sails need turning,” Metal demanded. H1 kept Amy giggling as he curled into a ball and rolled down the deck. “I will never know why they are such clowns…”

“Aw, lighten up! They’re fun. Well, when they’re not trying to strangle me.”

Metal ignored her, instead using the compass to navigate. “It seems we just have to go in the opposite direction from where this points. The glowing arrow is hardly necessary.”

“I guess,” Amy shrugged. “Looks cool, though.” She appeared much more relaxed after the quick laugh. Supporting herself on a rail, she looked out into the dark waters. “You can’t see anything out there…”

“Well, you can’t.”

“And pretty soon neither will you. Might wanna start getting acclimated.”

The proud attitude Metal took toward his mechanical body was probably best hidden for the time being. He made a note to dial down the cockiness. “I suppose you have a point. We will light some lanterns, then.”

The great vessel turned gradually in the correct direction as the other minions brought out antique lanterns from the ship’s displays. They did little to light the ship’s way, but Amy at least had a way to see where she was going aboard. Metal Sonic gave her free access to its entirety, but she was more interested in watching the stars from under the unspoiled sky. He observed as she cocked her head up and around to capture what she could with what he only assumed was a much narrower ocular scope than his own. Still, her curiosity was interesting as it unfolded before him. Amy had surely seen the night sky before, yet she craned her head to stare up at it so intently. It was… cute. That word seemed to be thrown in her direction a lot.

Grumbling in her stomach caused Amy to turn her attention to her hunger. She worried there wouldn’t be anything to eat on a ship manned entirely by machines. “Hey,” she called out to him from the lower deck, “uh, do you have any food? I haven’t eaten in a while…”

Food. It hadn’t crossed his mind. Of course, organics liked to- no, needed to eat to survive. He scolded himself for the oversight. “We… did not bring any aboard.”

“Seriously?”

Surely, there had to be something on board as the vessel was operating just two days prior. “The galley, perhaps? Follow me.”

Metal descended the steps that led from the helm and beckoned for Amy to join him in the lower guns. He kept the layout of the ship in his vision as they navigated most of the way into its belly, finally reaching the kitchen down below. Luckily, there was a light switch and Amy was able to put down her lantern as she took in the sight of the huge space.

“Woah… That’s no galley…” she stepped inside, admiring the stainless steel countertops and modern, oversized refrigerators and industrial ovens. “This must be the catering kitchen,” she concluded, opening a fridge. It was full of food just waiting to be prepared.

“Ah, yes. I believe there was to be a wedding here until I commandeered the ship…”

“You took someone’s entire wedding venue?” Amy asked in shock. “I thought you were evil before…”

He supposed that was meant to be a quip, but he didn’t find the humor in her words. Metal walked calmly to one of the stovetops and tested the switch, which was working normally. “It appears everything here is operational. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned on his heel and made for the exit, byt stopped. She would need a place to sleep, too. “I suppose you’ll need sleeping quarters, as well- find me when you’re through and I’ll assign you a room.”

“Uh-huh,” Amy answered half-heartedly. She was too busy deciding what to cook for herself and trying to figure out how to split the huge, catering-sized portions for one.

It took some creativity, but she managed to make something that would last her a couple of meals. Amy didn’t feel great about all the stolen food, but beggars can’t be choosers. Once she’d eaten and cleaned up, Amy picked up the precarious lantern and began her way up the many steps to the main deck. There are modern appliances here and they couldn’t be bothered to get me a flashlight? Amy still didn’t understand what the pirate charade was about, but she had to admit how cute she looked in the historical outfit. Pirates were definitely cooler than sailors; she wished she’d thought of it.

She finally reached the floor below the upper deck to find Metal Sonic sitting at a table in the corridor, wiping and inspecting the blade of a sword. It was creepy. “Hey… I’m done eating.” She held up the lantern awkwardly.

“Have you ever used one of these?” he flicked his wrist, brandishing the sword above him.

“Uh… can’t say I really have.”

“Would you like to?”

Amy clicked her tongue impatiently. “I would like to take a shower and know where I’ll be sleeping.”

The tip of the sword found its way quite startlingly into the wooden table-top as Metal stood. “‘Lighten up,’” he mocked her.

“Are you gonna be this good at copying people when your programming disappears?” Amy did her best to look unphased, but her heart jumped when he stuck the sword into the table. It was beating a bit quicker now.

A monocular, dead-pan stare met her eyes. “Will being organic make me as dull as you?”

Even after years of intense battles and struggling bitterly against him, Amy never wanted to wack Metal Sonic harder than she did then. The whole situation was unbelievably annoying- trapped on a ship with a cocky narcissist. A dangerous one- the thought ran through her mind. Amy had to take a step back- once he changed, if he changed, he would be much less of a threat. If she wasn’t staying aboard for him, she hoped, she was at least doing it for the greater good. That at least gave her some comfort. “Just tell me where it is, I’ll go myself.”

Metal leaned an arm on the table with disinterest. “Down two floors and down the hall to your right. It will be hard to miss.”

“Hmph,” Amy took off, trodding back down the stairs. Other than a short temper, he was impossible to read. She had to find a way to learn more about his intentions.

Amy followed his instructions, arriving in a dark corridor. Amy squinted in the dim light, groping for a light switch. Once she found it, she was in awe. Ornate molding lined the ceiling and fine art hung from the walls. It must have been part of the wedding venue.

She admired the paintings leading down the hall until reaching a door with a gold handle. Bridal Suite was printed on a plaque that hung next to it. Entering, Amy found a bright white room furnished with a canopy bed and vanity, among other lavish furniture. Her irritability quickly melted away as she took in the luxurious surroundings. Maybe staying aboard the strange ship wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-------

Hi yall so I’m taking a break from writing Unfamiliar as I outline the last few chapters. It’ll be back early 2021 ❤️

ALSO I meant to finish this in time for @metamy-ship-week prompt 7 (free day) but it ended up a lot longer than I expected - hope you don’t mind me tagging it!

Part 2 of this should be up in the next few days! Love yall besos

#metamy #metal sonic x amy rose #metal sonic #amy rose #MetamyShipWeek2020 #metamy week #sonic fanfiction #sth #pirates

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