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winterscaptain · 4 years

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the pleasures of the elder.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the people have spoken, and they all love sean hotchner. this fits after mean it in the joyful future universe, but no context is actually required to enjoy a little bit of sibling rivalry. title comes from jane austen’s quote: “the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.”

words: 3k warnings: language, alcohol use, sex mention, jealous!aaron, perceptive!sean

summary: when he arrives for an impromptu visit, sean knows his brother too well to give him any moment’s peace - especially when it comes to you.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed

A man, both very handsome and vaguely familiar, pushes through the glass doors and walks across the bullpen - a visitor's badge pinned proudly to his leather jacket. You try to place him, but come up short.

You’re alone, for the time being. Almost everyone is off running some kind of last-minute errand around the federal building - making copies, finishing paperwork, or in a meeting (in Hotch’s case). It’s the last dregs of the day, the sun setting over the river.

The man stops in front of your desk. “Hi. Are you part of the BAU, or am in the wrong place?” His eyes are bright, roaming over your face with a kind of curious, warm, knowing air.

You smile at him, and before you can answer -

“Sean!” JJ’s fond tone carries across the bullpen, and she arrives with an armful of cases.

Sean?

Oh my god.

Sean Hotchner.

“Hey, JJ, right?”

She laughs, sounding a little younger than she is. You can’t blame her. Sean is exceedingly handsome in an entirely different direction than his older brother. And if your memory serves correctly, just a year older than you. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you.” He offers her a hand, and she shifts her files to take it. His handshake is firm, and lasts just a moment too long.

You kick back in your chair, almost inviting him to lean against your desk. “Hotch is in a meeting, if you’re looking for him. He should be out in,” you check your watch, “about five minutes.”

Sean turns back to you, his shockingly blue eyes meeting yours. “Thanks.” He smiles at you again, and you’d be lying if you said your heart was doing normal things in your chest. “Sean Hotchner. I’m Aaron’s - sorry, Hotch’s - little brother.”

Those eyes are dangerous.

Oh, poor Aaron.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.”

Just as you suspected moments ago, he takes the initiative and leans against your desk. JJ hovers nearby, a little smile on her face. You watch as she sends a quick text, and puts her phone back on her belt.

Gotta tell the girls...

“So,” he starts, brisk and businesslike, “you definitely weren’t here during my last visit. What’s your story?”

“Well, if you must know -“

“I must.” He flashes you another smile, and you can only imagine all the trouble he caused growing up. Or, rather, you can imagine all the trouble he would have caused if his brother wasn’t around to bail him out. Five years ago, you would have been drawn into his pretty eyes and wide smile. Now, you can only see a boyish, overt, almost-inelegant version of the understated warmth you love in Aaron.

You give him a quick rundown of your history: hometown, alma mater, etc. “- I was an academy grad in 2007, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Ah, so not a newbie anymore. And you’ve worked with my brother the whole time?” He almost looks impressed. His glance down to your ringless left hand doesn’t escape your notice.

Oh Sean, if only you knew.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked under Hotch for five years now.”

And I’ve worked over him for about three months. Also under him, around him, on the couch, in the kitchen, etc.

Shut up.

C’mon. It’s funny.

A low whistle leaves him as you bite back a smile. “Damn. I’m so sorry. He’s a real hardass.”

You lean in conspiratorially, and you’re almost cheek-to-cheek as he leans down to listen. “You know, that’s what I hear, but -”

Penelope bursts through the doors and calls your name, carrying an armful of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with the work going on upstairs. Emily is close behind her, an amused grin on her face.

Sean leans back so you can finally see her. “Yeah?”

“I have these for - Oh, hi Sean!” She says it like she hasn’t already decided her primary objective is to get his attention.

“Hey!” He looks over at her, one finger up to stop her in her tracks. “Wait, don’t tell me. Garcia, right?”

“Penelope,” JJ supplies helpfully.

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it. You’re almost certain he winks at her, and she smiles through the blush rising on her cheeks.

He really is a heartbreaker, huh?

Aaron must have had his work cut out for him.

Derek rounds the corner and immediately rolls his eyes at the scene before him. Sean has his body angled toward you (in your chair, completely open, with your chin in your hand) while he shakes Penelope’s hand. JJ pretends to do work off at her desk behind yours, but she’s completely tuned into the conversation. Emily’s sitting on her own desk off to the side, watching the whole thing with a certain degree of good humor.

“Sean, good to see you, man.” Derek walks over and takes Penelope under his arm. It’s almost possessive, and you almost laugh.

Sean releases Penelope’s hand and takes Derek’s. “Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?”

Their bro-to-bro catch-up fades into the background as you see Hotch appear on the breezeway by his office. You look up at him before pointedly glancing at Sean beside you. He sighs, then calls, “Sean.”

The man in question turns, and a smile breaks out over his face when he sees his brother. There’s something cocky about it, and you don’t miss the way his body language remains keyed into you as he speaks. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Aaron takes another deep breath and walks down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come see my big brother at work?”

Aaron’s eyebrow is dubious at best. “What do you need?”

Sean laughs, and it reminds you enough of Aaron’s that it draws a wide smile from you. You find yourself looking fondly up at Sean, seeing more of the resemblance now that they’re beside each other. Aaron’s jaw flexes. You notice.

Oh, see, now this is fun.

“I was just in town and figured I’d stop by to see if you were here or out on a case.” Sean glances down at you with another charming smile before looking back at his brother. “I guess I got lucky.”

He’s just full of those smiles, isn’t he?

JJ jumps in. “We’re actually planning on going out to drinks once we wrap up in a couple of minutes. You’re more than welcome to come.”

While JJ pulls attention elsewhere, you glance up at Hotch and throw him a wink. Hey. Relax.

His jaw relaxes just a touch, and his lips twitch. As usual, he covers it by crossing his arms over his chest. Don’t be a shit.

You wet your lips and purse them a little. Nice try.

He shifts, just a little, raising an eyebrow. You’re really gonna go there?”

Watch this. You toss him a quick smile. “That would be great!” You brush Sean’s sleeve as you unnecessarily reach over him for Penelope. “What do you think, Pen?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Penelope takes your hand, squeezes it, and looks up at Derek. “Wouldn’t we?”

Derek nods. “We’d love to have you, man. It’ll be good to hear what you’ve been up to in New York.”

Aaron does his best to suppress his eye roll. You’re lucky he loves you, childish antics and all.

+++

When you split up into your respective cars, Sean elects to ride with you over his brother. You and Hotch play the role of designated drivers. You’ve fallen into the routine, finding it's much easier to sneak around your coworkers as they get more and more inebriated through the evening.

Aaron doesn’t look too happy with the ride arrangements, but he lets it slide. Dave and Emily ride with him, while you have Derek, Penelope, and JJ in the car with you and Sean.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust Sean.

Logically, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He woke up this morning to your patient, adoring eyes and your hands playing with his hair. You ate breakfast together (read: sat in his lap with a bowl of cereal while he read his emails), were (almost) late due to your showering arrangement, and only parted after a (very) good kiss in the driveway.

Still though, he can’t quite shake the insecurities he always felt with his brother. Thirteen years his junior, Sean always seemed to excel in every social pursuit. Music, girls, friends - he was able to settle into things Aaron always struggled with. It was stupid. Aaron was well into his thirties when Sean was in undergrad, but that prickle of envy never seemed to fade.

Their mother never put the pressure on Sean the way she did on Aaron, and in some ways it made sense. He was a teenager when their father passed, and Sean was hardly a child. More responsibility, more weight, less credit.

Aaron might be his mom’s pride and joy, even to this day, but Sean will always be her baby.

Thus, watching Sean easily weasel his way into one of your smiles wore on almost thirty years of tension.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Emily asks, tapping Hotch’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Upon making contact, she snorts. “Wow, you’re really tense.”

Hotch shakes his head and shrugs her off. “I’m alright.”

It’s Dave’s turn to snort. “No you’re not. You’ve been scowling since Sean showed up.”

“He just has that effect on me. Always has.”

“C’mon, Aaron.” Dave says. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. “He’s just a kid.”

With a flat deadpan, Aaron replies, “He’s thirty.”

Emily leans forward on the center console, inserting herself into the conversation. “Hotch, you don’t have anything to worry about. Sean doesn’t have anything on you.” She bumps his shoulder with hers.

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Emily and Dave share a look and a little smile.

+++

You hop out of the car, swinging your keys in your hand. Hotch is a couple of spots down from you in the parking lot, and your little groups meet up somewhere in the middle. Falling back, you let Derek and Emily lead the way. When they’re all in front of you, Sean included, you press your shoulder to Aaron’s for just a moment.

“Are you going to be childish?” he says, quietly.

You suppress a smile. “You’re fun when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Alright.” Your hand snags his for just a moment, before you jog forward to catch up to the rest of the group.

“There you are!” Sean’s voice rings out, and you let him tuck you under his arm. You wrap an arm around Sean’s waist and chance a look back to grin at Aaron.

Gotcha, babe.

Aaron rolls his eyes so loudly you can see it from twenty feet away. Ridiculous.

I love you.

I know.

+++

You’ve all managed to secure a table. While not incredibly crowded, there are plenty of people around. You planted yourself next to Aaron, and Sean planted himself next to you. The music is just loud enough to encourage dancing without requiring a shout to communicate.

Derek downed his first drink and led Penelope on the floor within ten minutes of your arrival.

The round table is crowded, and your pinkie locked in Aaron’s belt loop goes unnoticed. He stretches his arm out behind you to clap Sean’s shoulder, and his fingers quickly trace across your shoulders as he pulls it back.

“So what have you been up to, Sean?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He pulls from the drink in front of him and you’re almost certain it’s just a Coke.

Sober? Getting there?

Remind me to get the skinny on that later.

10-4.

Aaron chuckles darkly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Sean shrugs, and leans back, checking out the dance floor. You pull your pinkie from Aaron and put both of your hands on the table. Emily’s looking a little too watchful tonight, and you’d hate to lose your bet.

Your money is on making it more than six months without alerting the team you’ve been sleeping together. Aaron, always of little faith, took the alternative.

“Dance with me?” Sean offers you a hand, and you take it. Before you get too far, you lean across Aaron to take another sip of your drink. When you lose your balance (on purpose), Aaron steadies you with a hand around your waist, making sure you’re settled on your feet before you jet off with Sean.

“Thanks, Hotch!”

He takes a long pull from his beer - his only drink for the evening. Hotch. Gimme a break.

“Looks like they’re hitting it off great,” JJ says with a laugh. “That works out. I mean, Sean’s about our age, right?”

Don’t remind me.

“Yep. Turned thirty last month.” Aaron does his best to not sound too bitter.

JJ smirks at Emily, who turns to smirk at Dave. They don’t know what they don’t know, but they certainly know enough to keep an eye on Aaron for the rest of the evening.

“That’s in-flight entertainment, baby.” Emily whispers to JJ. “I can’t wait to tell Will. He’s going to die laughing.”

JJ lets out a peal of laughter. “Absolutely.”

Out on the floor, you’re having way too much fun, sandwiched between Derek and Sean. You pull Penelope between you and Derek, and loop an arm over Sean’s shoulders.

“So,” he says, his lips close to your ear and his voice barely audible over the music, “how long have you been sleeping with my brother?”

You freeze for just a moment, but it’s a moment too long to recover. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Question in response to a question? That’s like profiling 101.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sean rolls his eyes. “He’s halfway in love with you, if not completely fucked, in case he’s failed to tell you.” He spins you out, and back in so your back is against his chest.

“We’ve got that covered, yeah.” You twist in his arms. “You gonna do anything about it?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s pretty funny to get him all worked up, though, don’t you think?” Another bright smile crosses his face and his blue eyes seem to glow in the dim light.

“Oh, Sean. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” You laugh and reach for him again, but a finger appears in your belt loop. Derek pulls you back toward him by the hip. He’s stupid strong, and you can only tumble back into him with another laugh.

You’re sweaty, sober, and having way too much fun.

“Careful, kid. I think Hotchner has a crush.” Derek’s playful jab is warm against your ear as you fall in with him, cheek-to-cheek.

“What can I say?” You ask. “I’m irresistible.”

Derek throws you under his arm in a spin and you land back at his chest with the wind knocked out of you. “He’s gotta get in line though.”

“Oh?”

“I think his big brother’s gonna give him a run for his money?”

That’s enough for you. “Gimme a break, Morgan.” With a laugh, you shove at Derek’s chest and leave the floor. Returning to the table, you sidle up to Aaron again. “Hey, Hotch. Having fun?”

He gives you a weak glare out of the corner of his eye and takes a sip of his beer. “A blast.”

“Couple more hours, if that, then we’ll be home.” You drop your voice, almost whispering into your glass as you take another sip.

Aaron nods. “Can’t come soon enough.”

The rest of the team gets more and more sloshed as the evening progresses, and you can get away with a lot more. That said, Sean’s eyes are playful, sober, and more than a little amused.

“What did my brother say to you?” Hotch murmurs, under his breath. The girls went to the bathroom (and to call Spencer a cab home) while Derek and Sean posted up at the bar, itching for an excuse to give some asshole the what-for.

You bump his shoulder. “Just that you’re half in love with me, if not already completely fucked.”

He heaves a sigh. “Can’t catch a break.” You link your pinkie through his belt loop again. “He’s right, though.”

“How’s that?” You look up at him and you know he can see how much you love him.

“I’m completely fucked.”

If any of your team members wonder what’s so fucking funny, they don’t ask. It’s just good to see Hotch smiling again.

+++

At the end of the night, you drop Sean back off at the hotel on your way home. He’s the last in your car, so he can speak his mind with a certain degree of freedom. You idle in front of the building for a moment, just enjoying the silence.

“Hey.”

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great in-law. Just wanted you to know that I’m here for it.” He offers you a hand. You shake it and it almost feels like you’re making some kind of gentleman’s agreement. “Take care of him. He needs it.”

“Oh, don't worry. I know.”

The smile you share is that of a pair of co-conspirators, of siblings, of friends.

We’ll do just fine, you and I.

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

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road less travelled - m. tkachuk

I was throwing together a list of ideas yesterday, and this one stuck out to me for some reason. So I started writing, thankfully had a pretty free weekend, and finished today! It was a fun piece to right, I hope you all enjoy it! As always, I read all my tags, so reblogs are a writer’s best friend! You’re also more than welcome to come into my inbox and yell at me if that’s more your speed.

word count: 4.5k+

March 18 (thurs)

Elsie couldn’t believe she had gotten herself in this situation again. Every time she woke up in his bed she swore it was the last time, but one drunken mistake turned into another, which turned into a threepeat, and now she wasn’t so sure it had been a mistake in the first place. There was just something about Matthew Tkachuk, something so intoxicating that she was able to ignore the every fiber of her being that was screaming at her to stop this, stop things before it turned sour. Stop it before her brother found out.

It had been easy enough to keep things from Johnny when they first started hooking up; they’d meet at a crowded bar, somewhere where the cover of anonymity was all but guaranteed, or a late-night text, a few words by the other communicating everything they needed to know. He was lonely. And Elsie Gaudreau was the only one who could help. It had been easy enough to keep things from Johnny at the start, but then they started texting before 11 PM, and then they decided they were exclusive, and then, Matty decided that it was about time that they put a label on it. And suddenly it wasn’t so easy to keep their secret anymore.

The team knew that he was seeing someone, but much to everyone’s surprise, he had said precious little about their relationship. He called her Leigh in the locker room, or out with the boys — her grandmother’s middle name, one he felt toed the line as well as possible between complete fabrication and some semblance of the truth — and they knew the couple had been together for a few months, that she made him laugh, and that he was more into her than they had seen him act with anyone in recent memory. She didn’t come to events because she was shy, Matthew said, and he didn’t want to subject her to the kind of spotlight he knew she might be scrutinized under the moment they went public. He wasn’t lying when he said she’d been to games — Elsie usually made it to a few a month, usually on Johnny’s invitation — but left out the part where she wore the number 13 in the stands instead of 19, or where she caught a ride home with her brother after media availability instead of her boyfriend, the man she’d been sleeping with for the past five months.

“Leaving already?” Matty mumbled, slinging one arm over her waist as Elsie tried to sit up.

She twisted over, kissing him softly. His stubble tickled her cheek. “Got class, remember?” Of course he remembered. Class was the whole reason she was in Alberta; most of it, at least. She had done her undergrad in astrophysics at Wellesley in Massachusetts, and when the time had come for her to decide where to do her graduate studies, Johnny had been all too quick to offer up Calgary. “It’s a great program!” he had said. And it was, but Elsie also had her doubts that her brother knew much about astronomy beyond the ability to find the Great Dipper on a clear day. They had always been close, even when he went to go play in Dubuque when she was 13, but their time together had naturally been more than a little limited ever since he turned pro. So when the opportunity arose for them to be in the same city full-time for the first time in a decade, he was jumping at the prospect of being able to look after his younger sister again. And, especially after he offered to pay her tuition, she wasn’t about to say no. International fees didn’t come cheap.

Matty groaned, pawing at her hand as she got up from the bed, throwing the covers back over him. “Do you have to go?” he whined.

Elsie rolled her eyes. “It’s an 8 AM, and it’s,” she glanced at her watch, “already 7. I’d love to stay in bed with you, babe, but I’ve still got to eat and get dressed and grab all my stuff. Plus, it’s at least fifteen minutes to drive and find a place to park, so I’ve got to build that in too.”

“I still think it’s dumb that they make you pay to park at your own school. You’re already paying tuition, plus you TA that one course, so it’s not like you’re doing nothing for them,” he said.

“It’s dumb,” she agreed.

Matthew clicked his tongue. “It’s highway robbery, is what it is, Els.”

She laughed, bending over the bed to run a hand through his curls. She loved those curls. “Be that as it may, Matty dear, I’ve still got to get there on time. Experimental space physics waits for no man.”

He pouted. “Fine.”

Elsie shot him a sympathetic look. “I’ll try to swing by after my classes let out, how does that sound?”

“Can’t. Johnny and some of the guys are going to be over after morning skate, we’re going out to lunch then they’re coming back here. I’ll call you if they don’t stay too late?” he proposed, looking over at her.

She gave a tight smile. “Works for me.”

---

Matthew couldn’t believe he had managed to keep things from Johnny for as long as he had. As pretty much anyone could tell you, he was the world’s worst secret-keeper off the ice, and even more so when it came to his friends. And every time Johnny would lean over to him in the locker room, showing him a picture Elsie had posted on Instagram, or recount a story from the intro astronomy class she TA’d, he had to bite his lip and pretend like he hadn’t been the one to take the picture, or he hadn’t been the first to hear about the kid who didn’t believe you couldn’t see the Southern Cross from Alberta. As much as Matthew hated it, he knew that part of what made his relationship with Elsie so exhilarating was the illicit nature of the whole thing. Something about sneaking around with your best friend’s little sister made everything that much more exciting.

The first time they hooked up hadn’t been a mistake, but it hadn’t been planned in any possible sense of the word. Elsie had moved to Calgary in August, a few weeks before everyone had stated trickling back into Alberta for training camp. Matthew was pretty sure it was mostly Johnny not wanting her to only be surrounded by “space nerds” — his words, not Matty’s, because while he had endless admiration for his sister’s dedication and academic skill, he understood approximateky 0.2% of what she was studying — all day, so by late September or so, she had established herself as a core member of the Flames’ “going-out” group. Which led to one particular night at a bar in October, with Johnny having already headed home thanks to an early breakfast with his fiancée and most of the rest of the group leaving around midnight. And it was a Friday, so Elsie had let herself have a few more drinks than usual; the team didn’t have practice until noon, so Matthew let himself shrug off any worry of a hangover. And Matty and Elsie already knew each other, so they got to talking, then they got to drinking, then they got to kissing. And then Elsie cancelled her Uber to get into Matthew’s, and before she knew it they were stumbling through his doorway, her fingers tangled in his curls and her legs wrapped around his waist as he walked her back to his bedroom.

There were a few people who knew the truth, and only a few people. Matthew had Brady and his mom. His logic being, as soon as Brady knew he was even vaguely interested in someone, he never took no for an answer and would have annoyed her name out of him regardless of whether or not he was being particularly forthcoming with any personal information. His mom because if he needed any advice, if he needed someone to turn to that wasn’t the incredibly vague commentary he gave the boys in the locker room, he wanted to have someone there who wouldn’t judge him and would have his best interests at heart. Okay, scratch that. Chantal definitely judged him, lifting her eyebrows over FaceTime as he called to break the news. She knew Elsie from the one trip with Johnny she’d made out to St. Louis and the times the Tkachuks had travelled up to Canada to visit the boys, and as much as she told Matthew that keeping it a secret was just about the worst thing he could do to his friend, she couldn’t say she was exactly surprised he had fallen for Elsie.

Elsie had Ines, her best friend from college. It was easier with her, much more straightforward with a lot fewer of the conflicts of interest she felt she got with talking with anyone in the “hockey world.” Ines knew hockey, she obviously had met Johnny and some of the other boys before. Wellesley was only a twenty-five minute drive away from the Boston city center, so the one time a year the Bruins played Calgary at home she’d go with Elsie. But Ines was compassionate, objective, and one of the smartest people Elsie had ever met in her life. She didn’t have any stake in the matter that wasn’t named Elsie Gaudreau, and she wasn’t about to mince her words because she was afraid of what Matty — or Johnny for that matter — would think. So there were people who knew, but the list was very short and, at least for the time being, they wanted to keep it that way.

For anyone on the outside looking in, who didn’t know them as well, they might have said that it was a long time coming. “It” being Matthew and Elsie’s relationship. And, if she was being honest, Elsie might have agreed. She knew Matty since he joined the team; he and her brother were thick as thieves from the beginning, and he’d visited them on the East Coast pretty much every summer since his rookie year. Visited Johnny. Not her. Johnny had made it crystal-clear from the beginning that under no circumstances was their relationship ever allowed to proceed beyond friendly.

And it didn’t. For four years, almost, it didn’t. Sure, Elsie may have carried a torch for him from the moment they were introduced, but she was far too concerned about Matty’s physical and mental well-being to pursue anything. Even if, once or twice, she could have sworn that he felt something too. But then she moved to Calgary for grad school, and Johnny started bringing her out with the boys, and she finally got to see him in his element, really in his element. She got to see Alternate Captain Matthew Tkachuk, the one who’d go to the ends of the earth for his team, who would score goals and drop gloves and do whatever needed to be done whenever it needed to be done. And it didn’t hurt that Matty looked hot as fuck whenever he got into fights, his curls flying as he stuffed his helmet under an arm, skating over to the penalty box. It only hurt that she had let herself fall for him.

March 22 (mon)

Johnny was over at Matthew’s apartment; he had come over under a pretense of going over some tape from their last road trip, but it had quickly devolved into a very heated game of Super Smash Bros before the pair took a break for dinner. “Dude, your laundry’s in the way,” Johnny said as he made his way to the bathroom, Matthew staring at the half-cooked pot of pasta on his stove.

“It’s clean, you can just dump it in my room,” he called down the hall. He didn’t hear the tell-tale click of the bathroom door, so he looked down the hallway, only to be greeted by a site he hoped he’d never have to see.

A conspiratorial grin on his face, Johnny held a black, lacy pair of panties between two fingers. His sister’s panties. The half-second it took for Matthew to reach, jumping forward and grabbing them out of his hands, unfortunately wasn’t enough. He held them behind his back, almost as if he was hoping that if Johnny couldn’t see them, they weren’t really there.

“Leigh’s?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

Matthew rubbed his temples with the hand that wasn’t holding the panties. “Yeah. Just...Pretend you never saw those, okay?”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Who would I tell? The boys? They wouldn’t care. You? You already know. Elsie?” Matthew froze. “She’d just slap me and get mad at invading your privacy.”

“And you are,” Matthew mumbles, stuffing the panties into his back pocket.

Johnny’s brow furrowed; he leaned up against the doorframe. “Seriously, though, Chucky. What’s going on with you and this girl? You know everyone respects your decision to keep things quiet and private, but I’m your best friend on the team.” The look on his face betrayed the hurt he felt inside. “I would have thought you’d say something, to me at least.”

Matthew let out a deep breath. How was he going to talk his way out of this one? “I know, and I feel bad that it seems like I’ve been keeping things from you.” But he was keeping things. Very important things. “I think with Leigh and I, we just want to take things slow, make sure what we have is real. And I think it is,” he said, hazarding a glance at his friend. “I don’t know if it’s love, yet, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about a girl before. But we both agree that we need to know before we open it up to the opinions of the rest of the world, before she gets shoved into the public eye. And she understands what that’s like better than most, but it’s still not fair.”

Johnny’s ears perked. “Better than most?” Matthew froze. “What is she, like an Instagram model or something?”

He smirked, pushing him with one hand. “No, she’s not.”

Johnny realized quickly that he wasn’t going to be getting any more information out of Matthew anytime soon, so much to his chagrin, he dropped it. Johnny left Matthew’s apartment that night with a weird taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. And he didn’t like that.

April 3 (sat)

Everyone was at Gio’s house, one of his quarterly team barbecues that had quickly become one of Matthew’s favorite things as soon as he joined the team. By “everyone,” that meant the players and their families, kids, partners, parents if they were in town. Johnny hadn’t invited Elsie — he assumed she’d be getting ready for finals, which was true, but Matthew knew she could have spared an afternoon — and Matthew couldn’t think of a way to invite her himself without arousing suspicion, so she was back in her downtown apartment while the boys were busy grilling up an inhuman amount of meat for dinner.

After everyone ate and the dishwasher had been loaded, someone decided to light the fire pit, and the conversation turned to relationships. For once, Matty didn’t tune out.“It’s the little things, you know?” Gio said, tipping back his beer. “When I see Lauren in my jersey at the games, or when she’s fallen asleep on the couch waiting for us to get back from a road trip. Makes you realize that what really matters isn’t so much how many goals you score or how big a contract you have. It boils down to the quality of people in your life, and we’ve got some good ones.”

“It’s the same thing with Leigh and I,” Matthew said. His words caused everyone to listen. There were precious few times Matthew willingly volunteered information about his relationship, and as much as his teammates genuinely did respect their penchant for privacy, that didn’t mean they wanted any fewer details. “Sometimes when she stays over and doesn’t have anywhere to be the next day, I’ll walk out to the kitchen and she’ll just be dancing around the stove, making pancakes and singing along to a Fleetwood Mac song. Usually takes her a minute or two to notice me.”

The guys laughed, and Matty took a long pull of his beer. He wasn’t really risking anything by saying that. Plenty of people liked Fleetwood Mac. “And she’s got this little scar behind her right ear, got it from falling out of a tree as a kid. She always tries to cover it up, but I like it better when she lets it show.” Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was Matty’s frustration about not being able to say anything about the woman he was falling in love with finally coming to a head, that made him say something he maybe shouldn’t have.

He realized, as he hesitantly met Johnny’s eyes, and could see the gears in his head turning, that he definitely shouldn’t have said anything. Johnny was looking in between his beer and Matthew, then Matthew and his beer, then his hands and Matthew’s, which were tapping nervously on the arm of his deck chair. And then he started to put things together. The orange blossom soap at Matthew’s apartment — Elsie’s favorite scents were citrus. Fleetwood Mac was one of her favorite bands. Their maternal grandma’s middle name was Leigh. And the scar. He remembered the day she got it, falling off an oak tree in their backyard in New Jersey, running into the house to get their mom and then in the car to the emergency room with a six-year-old Elsie who needed four stitches from the accident. And with an extremely uncomfortable feeling, he realized that that more likely than not, that meant the pair of panties he had picked up that one afternoon in Matthew’s apartment had been hers. He wanted to throw up.

Matthew was sweating as Johnny finally looked him in the eyes, realizing that the secret he and Elsie had tried so hard to keep for so long wasn’t going to be a secret much longer. “Matthew,” he began, his voice dangerously low. Matthew winced. He couldn’t remember the last time Johnny had called him by his first name. “Her name’s not Leigh, is it.” He said it like a statement, because, well, it was. He knew the answer, he just needed to hear it from someone other than himself, that the one thing he had asked of his best friend had apparently proven too much.

Matthew shook his head slowly. “No.” Everyone else’s eyes flitted between the pair, Markstrom and Gio and Andersson and everyone else very clearly confused.

“Something going on here?” Gio asked carefully.

“Tell them what her name is, Matthew.” Matthew squeezed his eyes shut. If he didn’t see everyone’s reactions, everyone’s disappointed faces, maybe they wouldn’t happen.

“Elsie.”

“Elsie what?” he prompted.

“Elsie Gaudreau,” Matthew finished. You could have heard a pin drop, the backyard was so silent.

“Dude, you’re dating his sister?” Noah asked.

Matthew nodded, one hand still tightly gripping his bottle.

“How long?” Johnny asked, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Just under six months,” Matthew admitted.

He sucked a breath in. “You’ve been dating my sister for six fucking months and nobody ever thought to maybe, I don’t know, tell me?”

“It didn’t start as dating, we were just—”

Johnny cut him off. “I can see where that’s going, and I don’t want to fucking hear it, Matthew. This was the one thing I asked you to not do. You’re a fucking All-Star NHL player, Matt. You could have any girl you wanted, you could wheel half of Calgary and I wouldn’t care as long as everyone was into it. But my little sister? The one person I told you years ago was off-limits? You had to fall for Elsie?”

“I—” Matthew stammered as he set his drink down. “I didn’t expect anything to happen. Neither of us did. But then it did, and I fell for her, and for some ungodly reason she’s decided to stay with me, and I don’t know, Johnny,” he finished weakly. “I felt terrible about keeping it from you, and for what it’s worth, Elsie does too. I feel awful about how you found out, you deserved better than this. But I won’t apologize for my feelings.”

Johnny scoffed, standing up and grabbing his keys. “She deserves better.”

April 4 (sun)

The first thing Matthew did the next day was go over to Elsie’s house. He had already called her the night before to tell her what happened; even if he didn’t, she had the numbers of half the guys on the team and more than one had texted her to check in after seeing how Johnny left things. When he opened the door, Elsie wasn’t doing well, to put it mildly. She was sitting on her couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a barely-touched mug of tea on the coffee table in front of her. She gave him a weak smile as he walked over. “Hey.”

He bent down, kissing the top of her head. “Hey, Els. How are you doing?”

“Not great.” At least she didn’t try to hide, not like it would have been any use with Matthew. He could read her almost as well as her own parents could. “I tried to call him last night and this morning, sent a few texts, just trying to explain. Asking to talk. But he hasn’t responded to anything, I called my mom and she said she hasn’t heard anything either.”

Matthew sat on the couch beside her. “He hasn’t talked to Gio either.”

She rested her head on his shoulder; his fingers carded through the soft hair at the base of her neck. “I feel like it’s my fault,” Elsie said despondently. Coming in between her brother and one of his best friends was the last thing she would have wanted, and she was starting to feel like everything was falling apart because of her. “It never would have happened if I wasn’t there,” she mumbled into Matty’s shoulder.

Matthew immediately shook his head. “No, no, don’t say things like that, babe. It’s not your fault, don’t put all the blame on you. Everyone dropped the ball on this one, and you shouldn’t have to take responsibility for how your brother decided to react.”

They were jolted out of their relative peace by a frantic knocking on the door. Elsie furrowed her brow. “I’m not expecting anyone?” she questioned as she threw the blanket off of her lap, She opened the door to see Johnny, staring bashfully down at his hands, an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Elsie raised her eyebrows. “You should be.” After a moment, she stood aside to let him in the door.

He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Matthew’s eyes. “I talked to Mom, she kind of chewed me out about the whole thing. Not talking to you when you called or texted, the way I kind of blew up at you yesterday,” he nodded at Matthew, “but mostly the leaving. Neither of you deserved that. You deserved to have a chance to sit down, explain yourselves, and have an adult conversation.” A flash of regret shot through his eyes, which steeled again as soon as he saw Matthew’s arms around Elsie, who had returned to the couch. “But that doesn’t mean I like it. I’m still pissed that you went behind my back, and that you two decided to do the one thing I asked you not to do, and how you blindsided me—”

“You’re not my dad, Johnny. You don’t get to decide how I live my life,” Elsie said sharply.

He screwed his eyes shut. “I know, but I love you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, and—”

“No more ‘ands.’ I know you don’t like it, Johnny. You’ve made that much very clear,” Elsie said in frustration. “Pretty much everyone knows that if you could make a list of guys you wanted to date your little sister, Matthew Tkachuk would be in last place. But just think,” she paused, looking up at her brother. “Think about all the things you said to look for in a guy when I started getting old enough to date. Divorce who Matty is from your feelings about us being together. You always gave me three things. Someone who cares about me. Someone who respects me. And someone who’s honest.” Johnny nodded, his hands in his pockets. “Matty is all of that and more, Johnny. He treats me better than anyone I’ve ever been with, and I love him. And that’s what you’ve always wanted for me. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Johnny leaned up against the bookshelf. “I guess you’re right.”

Elsie cracked a tiny grin. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

He groaned in response. “Don’t make me say it again, I’m not going to.” She shrugged. He looked between her and Matthew, sighing. “I overreacted, and I’m sorry about that. If you love him,” Elsie smiled, “and he cares about you,” Matthew frantically nodded, “then there’s really nothing more I could ask for. I think it just hurt that you two felt like you couldn’t come to me as soon as things progressed, as soon as you got together.”

“We were afraid you’d react like you did,” Elsie said, reaching over to grab Matty’s hand. “We never wanted to hurt you, and I might only be speaking for myself, but I think I was worried you’d try to come between us, or say something about the relationship, or…” She trailed off. “I don’t know. Sure, you shouldn’t have reacted that way, but you’re not the only one to blame. We shouldn’t have kept things from you, or from Mom and Dad for that matter.”

Johnny laughed. “Honestly? I’m pretty sure Mom called it from the beginning.” Elsie frowned. “What do you mean?” “You know when Matty came over to Jersey in the summer when you guys were about 20, and we all took that vacation on the beach?” She nodded. “There was one time when she saw you together, running into the ocean together. You were laughing as hard as I’ve ever seen you, Matthew was splashing water back at you, and you kept trying to tackle him into the waves. Mom, Dad, and I were back up on the beach. She just looked at you two, looked at me, and smiled.”

Matthew rubbed his thumb over the back of Elsie’s hand. “You think she knew?” he asked curiously.

Johnny nodded. “I think she knew even before you guys figured it out for yourselves.”

“How could she tell?” Elsie asked.

Johnny gave a soft smile, looking over towards the couple. “You’ve never been a good liar, Elsie. And you can’t hide love.”

#hockey imagines #hockey smut #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl #Matthew Tkachuk #matthew tkachuk writing #rat king

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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years

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Slit Reflection

This is my entry for @jtargaryen18’s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Mine was Sam Wilson. Credit for dividers goes to @firefly-graphics. Check them out!

Summary: You’ve always loved Halloween, especially the haunted house at the edge of the woods. So happens when the ‘Star Spangled Trio’ enters the mix?

Pairing: Demon King!Sam Wilson x Black!Reader (Fem)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3,054

Warning: Kidnapping, Forced Marriage, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Stalking, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Torture, and Non-Con/Dub-Con Smut. You have been warned.

Back to Masterlist

You’ve always loved Halloween. It was your birthday and the haunted house at the edge of the woods gave the best spooks and thrills. It was your first Halloween after undergrad and this year was different.

The Star Spangled Trio were celebrity guests and they were bringing two of the old rooms back!

It took you six days to get a ticket. You tried getting one online, every shop in town, but got nothing.

Finally, a new face at the library took pity on you and gave you the last ticket along with a book on demon folklore. You thanked the new librarian and rushed out of the building. Had you looked back you would’ve noticed a smirk on their face and their sclera and pupils turning black and gold respectively.

Halloween—the day of your birth—was here, and it was shit. Your toothbrush broke, your car refused to start, the job that you desperately wanted was dashed by yet another rejection email, and both your student loan and rent checks bounced. You just need to get through today.

You missed the cutoff, but got in because the person working the line was a family friend. Anxiously, you wait in line wondering how the haunted house in your small ass town managed to nab the Star Spangled Trio when you noticed the excited expressions of the people leaving. Now you’re super anxious.

By the time you entered the haunted house, you’re doing the breathing exercises to calm yourself. This was it! You were finally going to meet your all time heroes (and possible spank bank entries)!

The first few rooms were your typical haunted house fare which you loved, but were secondary to your excitement in seeing your heroes. Maybe you could get an autograph and hug from them!

You were about to follow the person in front of you into the haunted house’s hospital room when you noticed a light flickering to your left. It revealed a door done in the Neo-classical design with some Latin text engraved in the middle (had you studied Latin , you would’ve known that the text read “Reveal yourself, my beloved”).

Opening the door, you saw that it lead to the Hall of Mirrors. This part of the haunted house was always a favorite of yours, but both the itinerary and the ticket worker said that it was closed this year. The hall itself was chillingly quite and pristine as if no one else had stepped foot inside this season.

All of the mirrors looked standard for the haunted house; some of them made you laugh or briefly catch your breath. The one at the end of the hall caught you off-guard. It was at least 12ft (about 3.66m) high with intricate carvings of characters out of dark folklore and a single diagonal slit.

You were about to turn away when you saw nothing thinking it was a small haunted house joke at your expense when the mirror flashed.

In your place was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, but it still looked like you..sort of. Your hair was long, luxurious and gently flowing. Your eyebrows, eyelashes, and nails were immaculate. Your nose was adorably broad and your lips were sensually full (the type of full women would shell hundred’s if not thousands of dollars for). You wore a diadem with thick gold chains ladened with diamonds, onyx, and rubies and around your neck was a ruby and onyx amulet. You were dressed in a loose, yet sleeveless form-fitting Vivaldi red gown with hints of fiery red and a thin rosewood colored shoulder veil connected to the dress by a ruby broach in the middle of your cleavage.

You looked about four or five inches taller and the mirror version of you made you feel nervous about your curves being out on display.

Curious, you reached out to touch the mirror. Your hand was less than a centimeter away when your mirrored self opened it eyes. Suddenly, it grew curved horns and its eyes glowed pale gold.

The mirrored version of you grabbed your outstretched arm and dragged you through the mirror all while you screamed hoping someone would come to your rescue, but to no avail.

Samael, or ‘Sam’ was notified of your departure and the trio had to excuse themselves from the festivities to congratulate Sam on finding his bride.

You woke up with a start and shout clawing the air but stopped once you realized that you weren’t falling anymore. Instead, you were in a huge, opulent room filled with treasures that not even Windsor Castle had. Curiosity seemed to have taken hold of you because you walked out onto the connecting balcony to find that you were on a different planet/dimension/realm, whatever!

There were floating landmasses (the smallest of which was the size of your small town) and five planets ranging from Moonbow Gold to Venetian Red in color.

You thought about where the fuck you were and how you could get back home when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

The source of the voice was a demon with Antique Ruby skin with reddish gray undertones and Cinnabar and Rosewood colored hair. She had two short outward curved horns with a gold chain and aquamarine teardrop connecting them. Her eyes were an inviting aqua blue eyes with a dark red sclera.

“Hello! My name is Scheherazade, but you can call me Sherry. I’m your Lady in Waiting. I’ve brought some food.” Sherry offered as she set the tray of food on a small table next to a dresser.

You smiled cautiously at your new elevated handmaiden,”Do you know why I’m-”

“Oh, I almost forgot! We need to get you ready for your presentation!”

The Fuck?!

“What do you mean ‘presentation’?,” you asked as nicely as possible, but reality came out more like a demand.

Sherry stopped her ministrations and faced you,”Well, when the monarch, crown prince, or princess declares their mate, they are presented to the royal court,” she then returned to her task of finding a suitable dress for you not catching the mortified expression on your face.

This day can’t get any worse. Wait?

“What time is it?”

“Oh, yes, It’s pretty much always night here. The sun only comes out for three hours. Would you look at the time! Everyone’s waiting!”

“One last question,” you started as Sherry began dressing you,”Who am I marrying?”

“Why my second cousin, King Samael, one of the Three Demon Kings, of course!”

You fought the impulse to faint.

It took thirty minutes for Sherry to make you look unrecognizable. Thankful for her assistance, you followed the floating torches to the throne room. The throne room was an enormous room with high wide vaulted arches, delicately carved pillars and columns, and a small bridge connecting the ground at the door to the center. The court comprised of beautiful yet fearsome demons of all shapes and sizes.

The king himself was seated on a grand, ornate throne atop a huge dais with at least 25 steps. He seemed familiar.

As soon as you were passed the threshold, the king raised his head and everyone stopped talking and cleared a path for you. Several courtiers whispered as you striddled towards the dais. When you finally reached the dais, the king got off his throne and walked down the steps to greet you.

You almost face-palmed. The king was Sam Wilson! Or at least, looked like him.

Sam for his part was devastatingly handsome. He had a tall, powerful build, broad shoulders, bulging biceps, muscular thighs, short well-kept hair and beard with surprisingly kind eyes.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Sam uttered as he pulled you in for a hug. You could’ve sworn he sniffed your hair, but you didn’t want to go into that right now.

“Everyone!” The court turned to the throne,” Thank you for coming. I have finally found my bride. We will be married tomorrow night!” Sam exclaimed to thunderous cheers and applause. He slipped on a magnificent ruby and diamond engagement ring with a black gold band.

You could not believe this, “I can’t-,” you started, but Sam discreetly grabbed your wrist, “Pre-wedding jitters,” and led you to a side room.

You expected him to hit or yell at you like so many other royals in a similar setting, but instead he gave a sad smile and asked if you were truly happy in your old life. You thought about your crushing debt, little to no job prospects, both parents dead, no friends and you had to admit your life did suck, but he didn’t get to decide.

Disappointed, Sam casted a small compliance spell and pulled you in for a kiss. Your pupils blew out in lust and you lost yourself. When he finally decided to break for air, Sam stated that you will be his bride and he will not be denied any longer. You smiled and gave him a short but passionate kiss. He moaned but had to end it before he went too far.

Tomorrow night he promised himself.

He quickly called for Sherry to return you to your quarters.

Sherry woke you up the next ‘morning’ with a small army of beauty experts and maids.

“Rise and shine, Your Grace! We’ve got a bride to present!” Sherry proclaimed.

Damn it! It wasn’t a nightmare.

They managed to stuff you into a marvel of a wedding dress. It was a Torch Red long-sleeved mermaid wedding dress with soft yet detailed lace work made to look like an enchanted forest, diamond, dark ruby and pearl beads, and a floor length train. On your head was a black gold spiked sunburst goddess with deep ruby roses and a simple ruby teardrop chain that rested on your forehead, the ends of which were wrapped around your horns.

“Not even Lilith could compare, Your Grace!” Sherry gushed at her handiwork.

The wedding procession and ceremony was done in a swift fashion as Sam didn’t want to wait much longer. The vows were short as well. You wanted to object, call for help, anything but a voice in the back of your mind beat you to it.

A couple hours into the wedding festivities, Sam announced that it was time for he and his new queen to retire and led you to his quarters. It’s the fanciest suite you’ve ever seen dripping with luxurious reds, violets, and obsidian.

In all your awing of Sam’s quarters, you failed to notice him approaching you in only a simple loose shirt and trousers. He gently put his hands on your exposed shoulders,”Alone at last, my love.”

You recoiled, “Can’t we wait for a few days? It’s just…” you trailed off as soon as his jovial expression vanished replaced with something darker and hungrier.

“I’ve waited for so long to have you here with me, love,” Sam confessed while you moved towards the exit,”and I will not be denied any longer!”

In an instant, Sam pulled you in for a demanding kiss. He pushed his tongue past your lips moaning when your tongue tepidly danced with his own and from the sweet taste of your mouth. He pushed you onto a bed that had to three times the size of a California King and his lips moved jaw and neck, egged on by needy whimpers and moans.

He took his time ripping off your gown, enjoying the view like a child on Christmas, ”Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Utter perfection,” Sam murmured as he watched your breasts bounced free. He alternated between sucking and pinching your nipples with his hands and mouth,”I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered in your left ear and he continued to play with your breasts like a concert-level musician. All the while moaned and cried out feeling pleasure you never thought possible.

Once satisfied with his handiwork with your chest, Sam’s hands roamed over your stomach and hips followed by strategically placed butterfly kisses that made you squirm. He tore off the last of your wedding gown causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of cold air touching your pussy.

You used your last bit of willpower to plead, “Please stop! I’ve never-,” Sam stopped and raised his head to look at you.

“I know, love. I’ll be your first and only,” and with that, he gives your folds one long, slow lick and growled at your sweet and tangy taste, “I’ve wondered how you’d taste. You’re even better than the best Kharian wine. I could get used to this.”

He dove back in and played your pussy for all it was worth. His tongue worked its magic stroking and circling your clit sending you higher and higher into euphoria. Sam kept you right on the edge of an orgasm, just enough to beg for release.

“Say you’re mine!,” you mewled in response, to blissed out to use words. “Say it or I’ll leave!”

“Please let me cum, My King!” you cried out when he thrusted two fingers into your pussy.

“That’s a good girl. Now,”Sam started as he vigorously rubbed your pussy,”cum for me, love.”

Your orgasm came like a tsunami and Sam made sure finish his feast.

You got out of your post-oral haze to see Sam looming over in all his naked glory. His body must’ve been made by the gods because it was divine. His frame was an ode to sexiness wrapped in sinful warm sepia skin.

Sam caught you biting your lower lip and cocked his head, “Like what you see?”

Damn that cocky bastard, but damn if he wasn’t right. Part of you wanted to fuck his brains out…and that was before you saw his cock. Standing proud and erect with angry veins, his cock had to be the biggest you’ve ever seen (not like you had much exposure, just a few pornos).

Sam crawled up to you, lifted your chin and gave a soft kiss on the lips sensing your unease, “Relax, love,” He then lined his cock to your entrance and slid in as gently as he could.

You hissed from the pain, he was just so damn big. Sam praised you on how well you fit around him like ‘you were made for him’. Once the pain subsided, you bucked your hips into his causing him to moan at the sensation. He smiled at your eagerness and picked up the pace, making his thrusts come out to just the tip was in you and slamming back into you. You cried out his name each time he filled you to the hilt, pleading with him to go faster. Soon he reached your G-Spot causing to orgasm again, this time with you crossing your eyes and coming with a squirt.

Not too long after your second orgasm, Sam came with an otherworldly roar and glowing bright gold eyes shooting rope after rope of thick cum into your womb. He then flipped you onto your stomach and forced you onto your hands and knees so that he could take you from behind.

He got ten orgasms from you, each one more mind-blowing than the last. Once he was satisfied, he let you sleep.

“Soon you will be round with my seed, and we will have many children. I can’t wait.”

Ah hour after you closed your eyes, Sam left his, now yours, quarters. “Make sure she doesn’t leave,” he orders the guards although, he’s confident that she’s not going anywhere with the way he hammered her.

He strode down the corridors until he reached the dungeon. There, he found a rather nice looking apartment-style cell with only one prisoner, your mother.

“I’ve taken your daughter. Do you want to see her before you go?”

You see, Samael, Mikael (Bucky), and Stelios (Steve) were demon warlords who began conquering kingdoms left and right 1200yrs ago. They fought their way to the last free kingdom, Kharan. By the time your grandparents were brought before them, they had killed your uncle, the heir to the throne. The king and queen begged for their lives and the kingdom to be spared.

The trio agreed on one condition: if the next child the queen bears is a girl, then she would be Sam’s mate (Mikael and Stelios already had mates).

The king reluctantly agreed. The queen gave birth four months later to a girl, but she was in demon form. The queen had two of her most trusted attendants spirit the child away to another realm and raised her as their own.

Sam had your grandparents slaughtered and razed Kharan to the ground for their trickery. No matter, he was immortal. He would bide his time.

Eventually, your mother was told about her true parentage and form. She learned to control her powers, found love and she too was with child.

Sam found her a week before she went into labor and said that it was time to collect. She promised you in her stead immediately in hopes that it would buy her some time.

It did. She was able to pass you, a cambion, off to a friend of hers who wanted a child but couldn’t conceive and gave Sam a fake baby. He had your mother thrown into the dungeons.

Sam searched for you, but discovered that your mother put a cloaking spell on you. So, he approached your mother with a deal: her freedom for you becoming his mate.

It took your mother three years of torture for her to say yes.

Once the spell was lifted, Sam went to work. He made sure your adopted parents had a little ‘accident’ when you were old enough to take care of yourself, made sure that no one would want to hire you, and saddled you with debt. He even got Mikael and Stelios to pose as ‘The Star Spangled Trio’ with him to finally get you to the Hall of Mirrors.

Your mother bowed her head in shame, “No. It’s best for her to believe that I don’t exist.”

Sam unlocked the cell door with a simple spell, “You’re free to go. Have a nice life,” and returned to his quarters to be with his mate and queen.

Your mother took one last look at the palace,”I’m sorry, my little moon and stars,” and disappeared into the night.

Taglist: @jtargaryen18 @threeminutesoflife @giorno-plays-piano @lookiamtrying @sherrybaby14 @opheliadawnwalker3 @life-of-yn @mcudarklibrary @marvelfansworld @imdarkinme @sapphirescrolls @samingtonwilson @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @pseudonymphet @dahkness @saiyanprincessswanie @golden-ariess @chixkencxrry @anyatheladyclown @stargazingfangirl18 @saint-bvcky @cherienymphe @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @cockslut-padalecki

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agustdef · 3 years

Text

VIBE

Pairing: Yoongi x Trans!Reader

Genre: Angst; Fluff; Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 12.4k

Warning: Cheating (not by the pairing); Brief Sexual Content; Mental Health; Mention of Emotional and Mental Abuse; Mention of Mental Health

Rating: NC17

Banner Marker: @guktro

Lovely Beta Reader: @guktro because he’s a persistent little thing and wanted to be the first to read it.

A/N: The fic was written for @guktro and takes place in my I Found You and With All My Heart universe. With that being said, I must say that this portrayal of of trans man was written with Gray in mind and to fit his feelings/what he wanted. So, while I apologize if this makes you feel unrepresented I will not deal with any invalidating of Gray’s feelings towards his own identify.

YN rushed to class after sleeping through the first five alarms he set. He’d meant to get up early, but after a night spent focused on getting a side project done he’d fallen asleep early morning. He scolded himself as he sprinted into the classroom, but at the same time he couldn’t help but be pleased with himself. His burst of late-night inspiration meant that he’d completed the graphic work he’d been tasked with, a thing that kicked his ass for weeks before that night. And it also meant that he had extra money deposited in his bank account by the time he woke up that morning.

A win.

Well, a partial win because the look his professor gave when he just barely had his butt in a seat as class started lessened some of the joy.

There was no time to linger on any of that though because the moment the professor started talking it was full steam ahead. They’d entered another section of the course, which brought them all closer to designing a website completely from scratch. That meant the coding, art, font, almost everything had to be crafted by them.

It was something that excited YN, but also made him extremely nervous seeing as the end product would be the deciding factor of their final grade. Plus, it was going to be done in pairs and despite having attended school their all undergrad, he wasn't buddy buddy with anyone in his classes or his major for that matter. All his friends were in different majors or different schools. Which meant it would be a random person and goodness knows the odds of that person being a team player were low.

However, he tried to keep positive or at least his friends tried to keep him positive. It didn’t help, so he’d just decided to act like it wasn’t a thing until it was. Something that worked until halfway through the class when he heard his professor mention how he’d out of the partners right that moment.

Panic was not a strong enough word for what YN felt as his head snapped up to look from his laptop screen to the front of the class. His eyes scanned the projection on the wall and he held his breath as he did, hoping that whoever the hell it was wasn’t a total shit show. When he found his own name, part of him wished that he’d had a total shitshow instead of who he got though.

After reading the name he turned his head to look towards the back of the room and his eyes met Min Yoongi’s. Yoongi smiled at YN and tipped his head, something YN did in return so not to be perceived as unhappy before turning around again.

But YN was unhappy. Well, not unhappy because he thought bad of Yoongi or anything, but because the man made him nervous as hell. He’d been in most of YN’s graphic design classes since he’d arrived in Korea and a distraction since day one. YN thought that he was ridiculously cute and then as time went by the attraction grew as he watched him go from pale, flawless skin to his arms covered in tattoos. Something about seeing all the art on him heightened things for YN and made him more of a flustered mess around him. All without having never spoken to him before.

Not that YN hadn’t tried. With bullying from his friend’s, but that day as he’d approached “to ask about the homework” Yoongi was joined by a Black woman that YN had seen around him a few times. They’d smiled at each other, linked arms, and walked away from campus as YN reached the halfway point. It left him a tad heartbroken to see that he hadn’t managed to even say hi and that Yoongi may have had a girlfriend.

From that day on YN continued his thirsting from a distance and leaving it at that.

The project pairing meant that he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore and he was unsure of how that would play out, but for the rest of the class time he told himself he could get through it. The reminder that he had a grade to worry about was enough to give some faux confidence.

That wore off as soon as Yoongi approached him as they were dismissed.

“I rented one of the computer rooms for something else, but would you mind heading there with me right now? We don’t have to get any real work done, but it could get the whole expectations part out of the way,” Yoongi said.

Startled, YN only found it in himself to nod and then off they went. Yoongi led the way out the building and to one several feet away that was filled with private rooms for students to rent for course work. They checked in and went into one of the computer rooms on the lower floor.

Yoongi didn’t say anything at first, just unpacked his stuff and booted up the computer. And that left YN awkwardly sitting in a chair next to him, his bag clutched against his chest as he waited. He didn’t know what to do next and that was more about the awkward first group mate meeting then it did any attraction that he felt.

Once Yoongi was done with all his prep he sat in the other chair and turned to YN. He must have sensed the tension because he smiled wide, one of those gum showing ones that YN had seen once or twice when he was talking to his friends. It had a strange calming effect.

“You already know, I’m Min Yoongi,” he said, his hand held out.

YN was a deer in headlights for a second, but soon enough reached out to grasp the hand.

“I’m YN LN.”

“Nice to meet you, YN. We have other classes together, right?”

“Yes, we do.”

Conversation fizzled for a second after that and the awkward tension returned, but Yoongi didn’t allow them to sit in it for too long.

“Okay. I know I said we wouldn’t do any actual work today, but do you have any ideas for what we should make the site for?”

The next beat of silence was because YN needed a second to think, before remembering that he’d made a list in the beginning of the semester, so he’d have it. Without saying a word he unlocked his phone and searched through the notes app to find it. Once it was on the screen he handed the phone over to Yoongi.

There was a look of confusion on his face before he glanced down at the screen and saw what was there. He looked over it for a moment before handing it back.

“We have some of the same ideas. I thought about using this as an excuse to build something for my shop and portfolio, but we don’t have to do that. Don’t want to make it seem like I’m trying to get unpaid work out of you.”

That piqued YN’s interest.

“For your shop?” he asked.

Yoongi nodded. “Yes, I work at a tattoo shop.”

“Ah. Then we could do that. Doing it for a real thing always makes it easier to get the work done. And at least here payment would be a grade and something to add to my resume as a real in use website. But I’d also take a tattoo as payment,” YN said jokingly.

At first Yoongi appeared taken aback, but then his smile returned.

“Anything you want.”

A shift happened in YN and he relaxed a lot more, even putting his bag on the floor.

“Cool, you have any specifics you want to try for?”

And from there they just talked, bouncing ideas off each other and cracking the occasional joke. It was an easy flow they had going and by the time they thought to save some things for a later date in mind an hour had passed.

YN cringed when he saw the clock. “Sorry, for eating into your room time.”

Yoongi waved him off.

“It’s fine. It means I can’t procrastinate and will get something done before my sister comes to meet me for a late lunch. She’ll kill me if I don’t get it done,” he said.

Thought of his own sister made YN frown, but he pushed away the thoughts and gathered his stuff to leave. He turned and smiled at Yoongi, then waved as he backed from the room.

“Text me your schedule and we can figure out when to meet again,” YN said.

Yoongi nodded and they both turned away from each other, but just as YN pushed the door open Yoongi called out to him. Confused, he turned back to see Yoongi’s brows furrow as if in that.

“What’s up?” YN asked.

“You go by he/him, right?”

Discomfort built in an instant as YN was unsure of the reaction that would come with his answer, but he nodded his head and Yoongi smiled again.

“Okay, just making sure so I don’t use the wrong thing.”

With that they said their goodbyes again and YN left, but he left with a happy feeling inside him. He’d moved past the need for outside validation of his gender, but it was always nice to feel someone being considerate. Especially when that person was someone he’d never told before and had to have heard it through the grapevine. He knew how easy it was to misgender him because his appearance screamed feminine and he had no impending plans nor made an effort to make his transition physically apparent.

It was just nice for it to not have someone make a big deal out of it.

So, he walked away from that first meeting beyond happy with the way things went and confident about the project. Which was how he felt after every meeting after that and even on the day that they presented their project.

Everything had gone so well and he only had one regret: Not getting a chance to know Yoongi much outside of their assignment. But the semester was over and YN was so busy with school, work, and life that he barely even had the time for his friends.

And the next thing he knew he was on a plane on the way back home to the US.

###

The moment YN stepped into his apartment he wished he hadn’t. He’d closed the door gently as not to rouse his boyfriend who worked the night shift, but when he turned to face the living room he saw that the man was already awake. In fact, he was awake and he had company.

On the couch sat Sam and between his legs was some “friend” of his with his dick halfway down her throat. The sight didn’t startle YN and he barely had the energy to be upset about it. Especially when both of them realized he was there and could only look like a deer in headlights. Well, Sam was pretending to care that he’d been caught, but YN saw the way he fought the little smirk that wanted to form on his lips.

“Oh, my goodness,” the girl said.

That was what made YN focus solely on her and he remembered her from a few group hang outs. She was a sweet girl who was newer to the group and Sam liked to hang around her lot, though she always seemed to put distance between them when he got too close. It seemed like she’d given up on doing that.

“I didn’t know you lived here,” she said.

“So, if I didn’t it was okay to give oral to my boyfriend?” YN asked, his voice empty.

She shook her head profusely and rose to her feet, fixing her clothes as she did.

“No. My goodness no. Sam… he, well he said you guys broke up. I wouldn’t… I’m not the type to…”

Her scrambling to find an excuse should’ve given YN some sort of relief or reassurance that she wasn’t a horrible person, but he felt nothing. He merely held up his hand to get her to stop and walked back out of the door without another word to either of them.

He’d planned to get in a quick lunch nap, thus coming home when he did, but that was out of the window. So, YN walked around aimlessly until he stumbled upon a cafe. Once inside, he ordered something and found an empty booth away from everyone.

The first few minutes were sat in silence with him merely staring at the other bench seat blankly. He didn’t speak or move until the barista brought over his drink and sandwich. A brief thank you and then he began to nibble on the food, hoping it was enough to focus his mind on something else, but it wasn’t.

All he could think about was the disaster that was his life.

When YN returned to the US he saw it as temporary and as a means to help out his family. His mother struggled a little and he wanted to help, plus he’d missed them since he hadn’t had the chance to go home during his undergrad. Things were fine for a while, but then they all just became so mean and uncaring about his feelings. His mother tried, but sometimes she was just the worst. And his little sister was rude and acted like she hated him or at least that’s what it felt like. Every second of the day it was her trying to undermine and trash talk YN, get the others on her side. And while YN’s brother wasn’t like the other two, he wasn’t the most helpful in saying anything when they ganged up on him.

It was horrible for his already not that great mental state and at some point he was pushed too far. The only option for his own health and safety was to leave, but he poured so much into them it was hard. After talking to a friend back in Korea they got him a plan to go back and he saved as much as he could for the ticket. And the moment he had enough his bags were packed and he was on a plane there.

From there he stayed with friend’s, though as they all progressed in life and started dating seriously or getting engaged it became harder for him to do. Thankfully, he had started dating and as he prepared to find someone else to move with Sam offered for them to stay together. YN had been unsure, there was a gut feeling he didn’t listen to, but living with a boyfriend prematurely was better than being homeless.

So, he moved in, but things dissolved quickly. Sam was trash. His manipulative nature became more obvious and though YN could see it, he was really into him. Certain things were let go or blatantly ignored and that gave him incentive to get worse. YN had found him cheating twice and he’d let Sam talk him into staying both times, but things were still bad. Especially as he became disillusioned and realized he had to stay until he could find a place he could afford to live.

Seoul was expensive and even on his great salary he couldn’t afford it. So, he endured it. Dealt with Sam’s bullshit and tried to remind his heart that Sam wasn’t good for them, despite how they still acted as if they were a happy couple.

Life refused to give him a break and with everything crashing down he’d flirted with returning to the US, but that was no better than staying with Sam. And he didn’t want to be there, he wanted to be in Seoul. But that didn’t stop the thoughts as he sat there and ate his subpar sandwich at the cafe he hated.

All he had to do was have a few friends go to get his stuff with him, stay with them for maybe a day and take the next plane back home. It was that easy, though nothing about it felt easy. Especially as he reminded himself he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want his joy ruined by someone else.

Which meant that before he spiraled in a public place he needed to pull it together and check apartments again. He’d done it on the train ride back to his apartment and found nothing, but things changed.

After several deep breaths he pulled out his phone and scrolled through all the possible apps for housing. Unsurprisingly nothing that he’d rent alone was in his price range that he could do, which frustrated him and almost made him put his phone down but he pushed forward. He’d accepted a long time ago that he would need a roommate, so he narrowed his searches for those kinds and found a few, but they were mostly creepy or still too much.

That’s when he was really ready to give up, but then the app he was on glitched and refreshed the page. Annoying because he had to scroll all the way down again, but also a heaven send. As he re-scrolled he stumbled upon a listing that was below what he was willing to pay and in a great neighborhood close to his place of work.

YN had never moved so fast to look through the pictures and see what other information the person had to say. The room that would be his was spacious, had great windows, and a wonderful view. Plus, the rules laid out weren’t overbearing.

A simple scroll to the bio of the owner, Sidney, had him even happier because he saw a picture of a Black woman with a kind smile. She explained she was a resident at a prestigious hospital and her last roommate moved out, so she needed someone else to help pay the bills. And there was a direct line about not minding gender at all as long as you were a decent person.

For once life appeared to be on YN’s side, so he scrambled to message Sidney through the app giving the required info about himself and making it clear that he could come to meet her as soon as she was available.

He hoped for a response before he got off work, but what he didn’t expect was one ten minutes later as he left the cafe. She told him it was an off day so he could come after five. YN responded quickly that he got off work at fifteen minutes after five and could be there by five thirty. Sidney replied with a confirmation and YN went back to work with a pep in his step and some hope.

However, that hope turned to nerves as he made his way to the apartment. He even debated not going in once he reached the building but persisted and made his way up with the mantra “you got this” playing in his head. It was effective enough that by the time he knocked he believed it.

The door opened a few seconds after his first knock and he was greeted by the woman who’d he’d seen in the picture. She smiled at him.

“You must be YN,” she said.

YN nodded. “Yes, and you’re Sidney.”

“That I am. Please do come in.”

Sidney motioned YN inside and he paused to kick off his shoes before following her further into the apartment. It was so much nicer in person and he felt himself get excited at the thought of living there but had to remind himself that it was possible he wouldn’t. He had to get along with her after all and just because she seemed nice didn’t mean that she would just let him stay or actually was nice.

“I can show you around and then we can sit and talk or the other way around, whatever you’d prefer. Also, a random man may appear at some point, he does not live here but insists on invading my home anyway,” Sidney said, her voice grew louder as she said the last part.

“Oh, shut it,” a voice shouted out in the distance.

YN was confused at first, but also amused by whatever dynamic Sidney had with the mystery man who was supposedly an unwelcomed guest.

“Tour first is fine,” YN said.

“Tour it is then. You can put down your bag and we can start in the kitchen,” she said.

Without looking YN sat his bag on the couch and followed closely behind Sidney. She walked him through the space, pointing what was where and what was what. Every room got a somewhat detailed explanation, even the empty room that could be his. It was weird how in-depth Sidney was for showing someone who hadn’t been given the go ahead to live there yet. But YN assumed it was just how she was or some way to ensure that the person knew a lot before making a choice themselves.

Five minutes later they finished and walked back out to the living room where there was suddenly someone on the couch. YN assumed it was the person Sidney had been calling out before and shrugged it off.

“Okay, now we’ll sit down and talk for a bit. Get to know each other,” Sidney said as she plopped down onto an armchair.

“And if you aren’t some creep I get to ask you questions too,” the man said.

Something about the voice was familiar, but YN didn’t know just how familiar until he finally walked around the couch and could see the man’s tattoos and then his face. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes grew wide as he stared at him.

Yoongi’s reaction was practically the same, going from an intimidating glare to a fish out of water.

“YN?” he asked.

“Uh, you two know each other?” a confused Sidney asked.

All YN could do was nod as he thought about what kind of craziness was his life.

“Um, yeah. We went to college together. Had a lot of the same class and he even helped me build the shop's website,” Yoongi said.

That’s all it took for Sidney to join and create a trio of shocked expressions.

“He’s that YN?”

For some reason that snapped YN out of his momentary glitching as he wondered what she meant by that, but by the glare Yoongi leveled her with he was sure he’d never figure that out. Though Sidney appeared unphased by his clear displeasure and simply shrugged. Which was met with a roll of the eyes before Yoongi focused on YN again.

“I thought you went back home,” Yoongi said.

YN took a moment to clear his throat before nodding. “Yeah, I did. But the plan was always to come back and I did that two years ago.”

“Oh, that’s good. Glad you got to come back,” Yoongi said, a wide smile on his lips.

As he’d learned years back Yoongi’s smile could make anything feel okay and all the nerves and confusion YN felt before he smiled were pushed to the wayside.

“Well I’ve made my decision. You can move in,” Sidney said, disrupting the moment.

Both of them nearly broke their necks turning to look at her, eyes nearly popping out of their heads.

“W-what?” YN asked.

“You have a job and the ability to pay rent, right?”

“Yes. I’m a section leader at LE International. I can even show pay stubs if you’d like.”

“Then that’s that. Yoongi clearly isn’t opposed to you and that’s good enough for me. You can move in whenever.”

“Even right now?”

“If you want, but is that all you have to move in with?” Sidney asked, tone cautious.

Unsure of what to say YN simply shook his head, but when neither of them said anything or pushed he felt the need to give an explanation. Plus, he was let in without any issue and so he felt a sense of comfort with them.

“I do have more stuff, but it’s at my old apartment and going there isn’t a good idea. At least not right now,” he said.

At that Sidney and Yoongi shared a look for a second before Sidney turned to YN and smiled at her though it was a tad unsettling, much different from the ones she’d directed YN’s way before.

“When do they leave the apartment?” she asked.

Startled, YN looked at her for a long time before answering.

“Um, he’s off tonight but works again in two todays,” YN said.

Sidney nodded before turning Yoongi. “Call Kookie, Namjoon, and hell even Jin. Those wide ass shoulders of his are intimidating all on their own. Tell them to meet us here in fifteen.”

Yoongi didn’t say a word, just threw a reassuring look YN’s way before leaving the room to make the calls.

All of it happened so quickly that YN took a second longer to process it all.

“Oh no, you don’t have to ge-”

A shake of Sidney’s head shut him up.

“Two days is much too long to be without your stuff and even if it wasn’t it may not all be there if he sees you aren’t coming back. I know I’m overstepping a bit and I can call this all off, but you deserve to be in an environment away from whatever it is you’re trying to escape and that means without fear of never getting your stuff back. So, we can proceed and even go alone if it makes you more comfortable or stop it here.”

A warmness filled YN and he felt his shoulders shake a little as tears he didn’t know he held back fell. People he barely knew were being nicer to him than of those he’d known for years or his whole life. And they were prepared to go up against her ex for him without a single question asked. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“Please help,” he managed to mutter.

Sidney nodded and carefully moved closer to YN, asking before she touched him and then easing him into it before pulling him into a tight hug. Something YN didn’t know that he needed until it happened.

Once they got him calm and their friends arrived they headed out to YN’s ex’s place. He was nervous the whole way, but the entire thing was a bit of a blur. They got there, their friend’s Jungkook and Namjoon appearing behind YN was enough to keep Sam at bay and the others packed up his stuff. There were a few words from Sam, but any time he shifted the wrong way Jungkook took a step forward and he shut up. It was a weird switch from the sweet-faced tattooed kid she’d met at Sidney’s and the one ready to kick his ex’s ass if he breathed wrong.

Everything was moved out and Sam had his key back within about thirty minutes. And they were back at the apartment soon after that. They all helped YN unpack his stuff and get comfortable in his room, even ordering his favorite food for dinner.

By eleven that night he was curled up in his new room, in his new apartment, and for the first time in a while he felt like things clicked.

###

Comfort wasn’t something YN easily found, but it settled in after the first two weeks of living with Sidney. Though she was very busy most of the time with work and school life, she went out of her way to make sure YN was okay and taking proper care of himself. And all her friends were just the same.

After week one of being there he’d met the rest of the friend group, which consisted of Taehyung and Jimin, who he knew from work. They’d been nothing but kind and didn’t push him to tell his life story. All they requested was that he tell them when they crossed a line or truly didn’t want to participate in something; and they’d backed off quickly the one time it happened.

From there it had been so easy to mesh with them, come out of his comfort zone, and just live his life without worries of his ex or where he’d live next. Months passed so quickly and he hadn’t endured a panic attack at all.

It was a nice change of pace and put a bit of a pep in his step.

After a night of watching movies and a morning of breakfast made by Sidney who came off a twelve-hour shift and who apparently craved a mountain of homemade blueberry pancakes. YN didn’t complain because for one it was food he didn’t have to make and for two he hadn’t had pancakes in over a year. So, consuming all that crossed his plate was a must. Though as he traveled to work regret in the form of drowsiness settled in quite a bit.

All that left the moment he stepped in front of the work. Though he’d been working there a while it made him quite anxious to go in every day. He loved his job and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but sometimes that feeling was enough to make him want to try and freelance or something so he could avoid offices and a team of people.

But that wasn’t why his demeanor changed when he arrived. Oh no, it was the two men who stood off to the side of the main doors that did that. Or more so one of the men that was there.

Jimin and Yoongi stood in front of the building with smiles on their faces as they talked together about something that appeared beyond hilarious from the outside looking in. They were laughing and wrapped up in their own worlds as they spoke. Not noticing YN’s gawking nor the many others who eyed them up intensely. Though to be fair YN was sure Jimin was used to it from how much it happened daily. However, with Yoongi there and wearing a short sleeve shirt with his tattoos on full display the attention increased tenfold. Which was always the norm when he came in to work with the company on something.

At some point YN found himself drifting from the momentary drooling over how hot Yoongi was to enjoying the expressions of those who saw them. Something he got so wrapped up in that he didn’t notice Jimin calling his name and waving him over for about fifteen seconds.

Once he snapped out of it, he walked over, head ducked as he avoided the prying eyes of those who noticed where he was headed.

“Hey, we’ve been waiting for you. Thought you normally came in earlier?” Jimin asked after they parted from a hug.

YN nodded. “I do, but I woke up to Sidney cooking breakfast. There was so much of it. She wouldn’t stop filling my plate.”

Yoongi laughed at that, the first sound he’d heard after he’d walked over. It had YN staring him down out of curiosity, but that washed away once he pulled him into a side hug. The affection was brief, but still quite nice.

“Blueberry pancakes?” Yoongi asked.

That guess would’ve left YN from months before surprising, but he’d learned that Yoongi and Sidney knew each other creepy well. Like there was being close to someone and then there was this telepathic like connection where Sidney could see the way Yoongi’s nose twitched and was fast enough to get him a tissue before he sneezed and vice versa.

Though he didn’t think about it often YN was quite jealous of their sibling-like dynamic when compared to the one he had with his own siblings.

“Yeah, she said something about needing them before she lost it,” YN said.

Before Yoongi could respond to that both of them were ushered inside of the building with Jimin muttering about needing to get into the conference room on time. They went without struggle because an angry Jimin wasn’t something anyone wanted and being late wasn’t on the agenda for that morning.

Once the three of them were inside of the elevator Yoongi spoke up.

“She does that when she’s coming off multiple twelve hour shifts sometimes. She’ll either pass out or stress cook blueberry pancakes. I think with the school part of her life finally letting up she has enough energy to make the pancakes now.”

With that new information YN made a mental note to learn to make the pancakes so sometimes she could come home and eat them then pass out. He knew she was a stress cooker and baker, but surely the craving for pancakes existed even when she was dead on her feet. So, the chance for her to get the satisfaction of both was something he liked for her. She worked so hard nonstop and deserved nice things.

While YN plotted on how to get her to teach him the recipe they reached their floor and headed out, going straight to the conference they were to meet that morning. When they walked in they were the last ones, but others were clearly still settling in which meant that their entrance wasn’t the focus. They moved quickly to get into their seats and a few minutes later the meeting began.

“As you know we’re taking on work for an upcoming idol group. Usually that would mean very little from us because they have an in-house team of some sort, but this project is out of their depth. They’re looking for some top-notch work with the concept they’re going for. And because they want things to be cohesive you will be working closely to give ideas and creative direction. This is very involved,” Section Leader Kim said.

Everyone muttered words of understanding before she continued.

“Some of you have hands-on experience with prop type things, so you will be in charge of helping conceptualize that and bring it to life. While three of you will be dealing with a lot of their social media and branding stuff. You will be creating from scratch for them to ensure they appear as unique as possible.”

There were more murmurs and then she directed her gaze towards YN, Jimin, and Yoongi.

“You three will be in charge of all things social media and branding. You will craft from top to bottom. I know YN has experience in it and Yoongi has done it a few times before when he freelances for us, many of those times will partnered with Jimin. So, I’m counting on all of you to do this. Understood?”

“Yes,” they all said.

“Good. There is a meeting set with the company’s creative director, the group, and their manager for an hour from now. Go prepare with your best portfolio examples and take the van that’ll be waiting downstairs in twenty minutes.”

In an instant they were on their feet and out of the room. A mix of fear and excitement drove them to go to their desks and grab any printed things they might need as well as chargers for their tablets just in case. Well, Jimin and YN did, Yoongi simply plopped down into a random chair and started going through his own tablet. When YN walked past he saw him copying certain stuff into one file marked with the project name.

Within fifteen minutes they were ready and in the van that drove them to wherever the meeting was.

YN felt the anxious energy that filled the vehicle but tried to keep his own in check. His focus was on his own tablet organizing some things, so they were easy to find when he tried to show them. However, he did that so quickly that he needed something else to preoccupy his mind, so he opened up his coloring app and used the pen to color in the picture of a sunset. The calming effect wasn’t the same as if it had been paper and crayons, but it helped a great deal. So much so that by the time they reached the company building he felt like he was entering a lunch date with work colleagues and not walking into the lion’s den to do his job well enough to please the entertainment company and his boss.

That didn’t mean that he felt confident enough to take the lead though. Yoongi was the one to do that with YN and Jimin following close behind him. They both got so nervous in new, high pressure environments that it was good to have someone else take charge sometimes.

And with Yoongi at the helm things moved smoothly. They got inside, were brought into a conference room, provided drinks, and NDAs for them to sign. No one tried to be difficult nor did anyone side eye them as often happened, though there were lingering eyes on Yoongi’s tattoos. Would’ve been some on Jimin’s too if he hadn’t worn a long sleeve.

Their wait for others only lasted for about five minutes before they were standing and greeting the group of seven. They all introduced themselves and as the introductions took place YN was shocked to learn that the group was the four, heavily tattooed men. He was very here for it, but surprised nonetheless.

Surprises didn’t stop there though. The moment butts hit seats the creative director dove into what they were looking to do. All of it came at them fast and YN barely had time to process the gist of what the hell was going on. It was about halfway that Jimin asked them to slow down a little and they obliged, explaining things in a less excited manner. Once he finished each of the members took a turn explaining what they hoped things to look like.

From there they were all allowed to share their past work and some ideas. They’d received vague information from work so they’d kind of gotten some understanding of what was wanted, but nothing they had truly fit. That wasn’t a problem though, there was some interest in some of the stuff and it was only the first meeting.

Yoongi had finished explaining something to the manager who’d wondered if they could create some sort of glitch vibe to incorporate when one of the members, Hyun, pulled his attention.

“I apologize if I offend you or it’s too personal, but who gave you that tattoo?” he asked.

Yoongi paused before following Hyun’s gaze to the large tattoo on his forearm that was about as intricate as the others, but glitched out and splashed with colors. It was one of YN’s favorites.

“Oh, Jimin did,” Yoongi said while pointing towards the man in question.

That led to them all looking wide eyed at as bashful Jimin buckled a bit under their gazes. There was some nervous energy wafting off him and YN wasn’t sure if it was because they all appeared amazed or because despite major changes to who could tattoo in Korea they were displeased to see it so openly admitted.

YN knew it was the former, well it mostly seemed like the former.

“You do tattoos?” Moon, another member, asked.

Jimin nodded and then cleared his throat before speaking.

“It’s something I do on the side because I like it. I usually work at Yoongi’s shop. He’s a bit of a reverse of me, works full time doing that and freelances doing this.”

Again, they looked beyond shook at the revelation and that was when things truly got rolling as they brainstormed ideas. They took a few pictures of Yoongi’s tattoo and then built off the concept of it. Though YN was not a tattoo artist, nor did he have any, it was easy to keep up since he was around them so often and found them interesting.

Time flew with their newfound excitement and suddenly four hours had passed. Since the group had other things to do they left first and after finalizing some things with them the creative director also took his leave. He said he wouldn’t need anything from them for the rest of the day, but to spend time coming up with things that fit for what they were trying to do for their meeting a few days later.

So, they left on a high note. The issue was that they were so excited and eager about everything they found themselves at Yoongi’s working on things immediately. They’d all taken up space and began working on designs that they could implement for it. They were only going for rough sketches or bare bones ideas to be decided on next meeting, but it was all consuming.

Seokjin had come through with food and forced them to sleep, but they worked so hard to get everything done. And if it weren’t for their excitement to bounce ideas off each other they would have gone all that time with no social activity at all. Not that isolated while submerging yourself in work so much you only had two people to talk to was a good thing.

Thankfully, they emerged from that behavior before Sidney had to make good to come over and kick all their asses. They’d finished everything in time for their next meeting and when that one went well they truly felt like hot shit.

However, they needed to rough draft a website. Something that Jimin knew how to do but not like them, which worked out since he had a few appointments to do and it didn’t hinder progress. Though it did leave Yoongi and YN alone, something that they hadn’t been since their college project. Which meant awkwardness to start before they got into a groove and found the right flow.

It reminded YN of how much he’d loved working with Yoongi back in college, as well as stirred up some feelings he hadn’t thought about. Not enough to say that he truly fell for the man, but enough that he wished he could ask him to accompany him on a non-work-related outing just the two of them.

Luck was on YN’s side though, because the moment that they finished the website Yoongi turned to him and smiled. One that YN returned whole heartedly before raising his hand so that they could high-five. Yoongi rolled his eyes but did it anyway and then there was a shift.

Instead of releasing YN’s hand he held onto it and stared at him for several, long seconds before he finally said anything.

“I’m going to say something and please tell me if I’m crossing a line,” Yoongi said.

“Uh, okay.”

“I know that it hasn’t been that long since the whole crazy ex thing and us reconnecting in a way we hadn’t when we first met. But I want to take you out on a date. To be clear it’s not anything extremely serious, I’ve just been feeling something and I need to act on it before I allow myself to possibly feel anything stronger.”

YN’s eyes went wide two sentences and just stayed that way for a bit. His mind replayed the words over and over in his head, knowing that he’d heard Yoongi right the first time he said it.

“You want to go on a date with me?” he finally managed to ask.

Again, Yoongi’s smile took form as he nodded. “Yes, I do if that’s something you want to do. No pressure, I’ll be fine if you say no. I’ll even be fine if you say yes and we just don’t fully click that way. A no pressure situation.”

Despite the constant reminder of no pressure, YN felt a great deal of pressure but also none at the same time. He wanted the date to go well so he wanted to try to make it work but knowing that Yoongi was prepared to continue as they were if what they thought was there wasn’t was a relief.

Probably the chillest request for a date he’d ever gotten. Definitely from the chillest person he’d ever encountered.

“Yes, I would like to go on a date with you,” YN finally said.

Yoongi’s smile getting any wider felt impossible but it did. His expression and body language screamed happy and that only enhanced the joy that spread through YN after he’d said yes.

“Anything in mind?” YN asked.

For a moment Yoongi’s lips formed a pout as he mulled it over and then his eyes lit up as he seemingly figured it out.

“There’s this temporary restaurant and art gallery in Incheon. They have some of the work by that one artist you said you liked recently. You could meet me at the shop after my last client on Saturday and we could go. If that’s something that interests you,” he said.

All it took was the mention of seeing the artist Bri’s work for YN to be on board with the plan in an instant.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he said.

Laughter escaped Yoongi at the response and he nodded. “Saturday it is then.”

YN went home sometime after that feeling a kind of lightness and genuine excitement that he hadn’t in a while. And he didn’t care if it only lasted a few minutes or hours, he savored it.

###

The entire time YN got ready for the date he’d been calm. There were no worries or internal meltdowns, no matter how much closer he got to the actual meet up time. He’d gotten up from his binge watching of Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan and showered, then dressed without issue. Didn’t even overthink what to wear, just found something that he deemed date appropriate and casual. Though he did pause for a moment to thank the heavens that the dress code for where they were going was relaxed.

Even as he applied his make-up and waved bye to a half away asleep, still in scrubs Sidney on the couch on his way out he was fine. It was a miracle and he was so happy to not be beside himself, but naturally that all came crashing down.

As he approached the last stop on his train ride he noticed a few people gathered together laughing and talking. They’d all been there since the stop before, but YN paid them no mind as he played a game on his phone. But an extra loud laugh drew his attention and when his head lifted to glance there way he realized he knew them. It was a collection of some of his old friends, ones who’d let them stay with them for a bit and were also the reason he’d met his ex. And with them was aforementioned ex.

A discomfort built in YN’s stomach, not from seeing them but from the idea of confrontation. Despite clear attempts to block him and keep away, Sam had made it his mission to pop up someway in YN’s life for a few months before vanishing completely. And though he’d given up, YN knew him to hold a grudge and be persistent. If he saw YN there would be some attempt to talk and with people to back him avoiding him was hard. But YN told himself he could do it.

YN looked away from them and focused on his phone once more but made sure to keep alert just in case they saw him. He made sure he had everything he came onto the train with, moved his purse from his lap to crossbody, and held his phone firm with Yoongi’s number at the ready.

The moment the train came to his stop he stood and moved past them quickly, keeping his head down and his eyes averted. However, the train jolted a little harder than usual sending him stumbling into one of them a little. He did his best to offer a quick apology and then turned back to the doors willing them to open faster. And when they did he bolted out of there just as his name was being called out by Sam.

People around him were startled by the person sprinting through the station and up to the surface, but YN didn’t stop until he was across the street from the station and amongst a group of people. He paused to catch his breath and ensure he hadn’t been followed out of there and when both of those things were clear he made his way towards the tattoo shop. Thankfully, it wasn’t far from the train station.

As he walked there the adrenaline from that close call left him and made way for the nerves that had remained at bay all day. It was as if they’d been awakened by running into people he wanted to avoid, though something told him it was more likely they’d just been waiting for the right moment to strike. What better moment was when he was only a few hundred feet from the shop's entrance.

One more time that night YN found himself pausing to pull it together, words of encouragement and surety repeated in his head to get him to make the final steps. And once he got in front of the door he was calmer, though not as much as he preferred.

“You got this,” he whispered just as he pushed the door open.

Upon entering he was greeted by Jimin who sat behind the front desk and Jungkook who’d just emerged from one of the back rooms. They both wore genuine smiles, clearly happy to see YN and that was enough for the incident from several minutes ago to leave his brain. People who actually cared deserved more of his focus than anyone else.

“Hey, he just finished up and is cleaning his space. You can go back there if you want,” Jungkook said after a brief hug.

After he hugged Jimin he headed on back without a word. He’d been to their shop a few times and it wasn’t hard to find things. Yoongi’s room was the last one in the hall and when YN reached it he took a deep breath before knocking on it. There was silence and then a soft come in before he proceeded.

When YN opened the door he was met with Yoongi wiping down his chair and the strong smell of a bleach laced cleaning substance. It made his nose wrinkle and he almost backed out of the room, but he got used to the smell quickly.

“Hi,” YN said.

Though that was the natural thing to say YN beat himself up for saying it. Something in him said he could have said something cooler, but he knew damn well trying to be cool or appear chill or whatever the hell he wanted to go for was stupid. Also, Yoongi didn’t give a fuck about that anyway.

Stopping his efforts to clean off the chair, Yoongi stood tall and turned to smile at him. It was wide and though there was a trace of tired etched into his face it didn’t detract from the genuineness of it.

“Hey. I’ll be done in a few minutes. Just want to make sure things are good since I don’t come in tomorrow.”

YN nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll just stare at this wall for a while.”

Yoongi laughed at that and then went back to cleaning.

And true to his word YN proceeded to stare at the wall. But it wasn’t like it was blank, the thing was covered in some of this work. Yoongi tended to make prints of his favorite pieces or the ones that spoke best to his ability and put them framed up on walls. Which meant that the space was beautiful and YN could get lost in examining them all for hours. He’d tuned out Yoongi, Jungkook, Jin, and Sidney talking the first time he laid eyes on it because he was so swept up in it all. They’d all taken faux offense to him ignoring them, but all voiced understanding of why. Their compliments had Yoongi turning red by the end of it.

Something was different about the first time though. At first YN couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but a few seconds later he realized a piece had been moved and there was a new one in its place. While the other had been a drawing the one in its place was a chunk of text. It was in a beautiful script that one would deem impossible to do so fluidly on skin, but Yoongi had achieved that.

Once YN got past that he noticed that it appeared to be words from Puck’s final monologue in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That made him laugh, but also got him thinking about something that he wanted that was similar. He’d wanted a tattoo when he was younger and then as he grew up and dealt with life the urge became stronger, though he had more direction than before.

While thinking he hadn’t realized how far he’d drifted until Yoongi pressed a hand to his lower back.

“See something you want?” Yoongi asked.

Instinct told him to push the idea aside and tell Yoongi it was nothing, but his mouth and brain seemed to disconnect on the matter.

“Just thinking about how I’ve wanted a tattoo for forever. And this one just makes the urge all the more real.”

There was no response at first and that made YN start to doubt sharing that, but when he turned to glance at Yoongi he saw a thoughtful expression.

“How about we do one?” Yoongi asked after a few more moments tick by.

“Now?”

“Now. I still owe you a tattoo, don’t I? Plus, we can go to the exhibit another day. Though if you don’t want to spend our first date getting takeout and getting a tattoo then we can do it later.”

For a moment YN thought about it, but then realized there wasn’t much to think about at all.

“Yes. Let’s do that.”

And that’s all that was needed to get Yoongi smiling again and guiding YN over to his desk where he sketched out the tattoos. They dove into Yoongi’s portfolio for inspiration, but nothing fully stuck no matter how much YN loved it. After who knows how long they ordered dinner from a nearby sushi restaurant and even as they ate they focused on finding the one.

It was frustrating and YN felt a bit bad about using their date like that only for them to come up with nothing. He’d planned to voice that thought, but then suddenly Yoongi cleared all the stuff and pulled out a pencil and a sketch pad. Then he turned to face YN, expression serious, something that YN had grown used to while they worked together.

“What’s your favorite color?” Yoongi asked.

“Uh… blue.”

“Mine too. Favorite cliche tattoo?”

“Song lyrics.”

Yoongi nodded along and started writing something on the paper, but he held it so YN couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“Favorite time of year?”

“Winter.”

There was more nodding and writing before Yoongi looked up once more, his eyes fixed on YN’s as he spoke.

“And without giving me some job or basic life goal, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

And surprisingly YN knew how to respond without question. “The hero of my own story.”

That got a small smile out of him and he even reached over to squeeze YN’s knee before he wrote something down and then tore the page out of the book. YN watched Yoongi sit the paper to the side and then him sketching on the blank page under it.

Not a word was uttered as he did so, the room silent and uncomfortable. Of course, confusion filled YN but after all the time spent looking and with the determined look of Yoongi’s face he let him do his thing. Which only lasted for a few minutes before Yoongi flipped the sketch pad for YN to see what it was.

YN burst into tears as he took it in.

Everything about it was perfect despite it being in slightly rough shape. The right words were there and even the more drawing oriented parts of it fit so perfectly and didn’t overtake the words. Goodness, YN couldn’t stop focusing on the words. They just slapped him in the face with how well that fit what he wanted. How well they fit him.

Gathering himself was hard, but he managed to make it clear to Yoongi that he loved it and that’s what he wanted. Yoongi wanted to comfort him, but YN waved it off and after making sure that all was fine he got to work getting it drawn on his tablet so he could print it out for stencil.

All of it happened so fast from there, they’d found a spot for it and how it would lay and YN was in the chair ready to go. Yoongi had all his stuff ready to go and the buzz of the tattoo gun brought YN back to, but something was different then.

The euphoria from finding the right thing and finally doing something he’d wanted for years was still there, but there was that voice in the back of his head poking at it. It’s what he wanted and he knew that wouldn’t change, but something just felt off. Like it wasn’t the right time for him to be getting it. Like he wasn’t ready for it.

“Wait,” he said just before Yoongi’s needle touched his skin.

Thankfully, Yoongi heard him just in time and pulled away, turning the gun off and setting it down on the table. Though there was clear confusion on his face he didn’t say anything, just waited for YN to be ready for whatever the next thing was.

His kindness and patience made YN feel guilty and a little bit stupid. He’d gotten a date with Yoongi only for them to not go on the planned one because of some whim that YN had and couldn’t go through with.

“I… I want the tattoo, but I just can’t right now. I don’t know what the fuck it is, but I just… something is telling me that right now isn’t the right time. And I hate that because I know I love it and want it, but I’d hate to have the joy of getting it clouded by whatever weird shit is happening in my head. And I hate it more because we could have been finishing a really great date doing something we both enjoy instead of spending hours doing this only for me to chicken out during the last second. It’s unfair to you. And I’m so, so, so sorry, Yoon.”

YN’s ranting would’ve gone on longer if the guilt hadn’t increased once he realized that he’d been talking for a bit and was definitely going to keep going if he wasn’t stopped.

Following his little spiral there was silence before Yoongi reached out and held both of his hands with his own. He waited until YN looked up at him and then gave him a gentle smile while his hands squeezed YN’s lightly.

“I’m the one who offered out of nowhere. I’m the one who decided to make this a consultation kinda date. I made those choices and I stand by them. We found something and you’re not ready and that’s fine. It happens to a lot of people. Sid almost got the tattoo on her side about ten times before she finally went through with it. And she was as sure as you were about this one, probably cried just as much. I’ve had clients even do that a time or two, it’s not a big deal I promise you. We ate food, we spent time together, and though it was frustrating at times I had a good time with you. I promise. Plus, I already said we could retry that date another time. So, unless you no longer want to go on another date with me, then we can still do that.”

Relief was not the right word for what YN felt after that, but he couldn’t think of another word for it. At least not until he found himself leaned forward with his lips pressed against Yoongi’s. He was unsure if he initiated the kiss, but all that mattered is that Yoongi returned the kiss without hesitation.

When he pulled away YN found the right word for what he felt.

Bliss.

###

Several dates followed the first one and they’re all great. The initial date plan never happens because after the night they were supposed to go, the pop up ended sooner than it should have. That made YN feel even more guilty about changing their plans, but after a great afternoon spent at a festival it was forgotten. Especially with how well things went.

YN and Yoongi clicked in a romantic way. They both felt it and weren’t shy about the growth in their affection towards each other nor their feelings.

However, despite their dating for over a month neither of them had made the move to make things more official. Which wasn’t really necessary since they and everyone else knew they were together, but it didn’t stop the odd thought here and there about if Yoongi genuinely wanted to commit to YN. And he was sure Yoongi had the same thought whenever he went to introduce YN and stumbled on what to call him. Neither of them said anything though.

Everyone thought they were being stupid, including Sidney, but they let them work out their stuff at their own pace. Even if their own pace was two idiots not just addressing the one thing that could remove any inkling of doubt, while knowing the other is thinking it.

It would have gone on longer if on the day that YN and Yoongi were going on yet another date, Sidney was too. There was a doctor that she’d been sleeping with that she sometimes went out with, though usually only as a preface to sex. After an incident where she had to explain to him that anal beads were not in fact candy, things had been strained and Sidney said he’d asked her out to get closer again. She didn’t see it becoming much more, but she also wasn’t against trying so she’d agreed.

As she’d parted ways with YN after they left the apartment there had been an offhand comment from her telling YN to ensure her boyfriend didn’t eat the cookie dough she had sitting in the fridge. The recipe called for a two-day waiting period before baking and she refused to make another batch just because Yoongi was a fiend.

Usually YN brushed off the label, but it stuck with him that time and he felt his mind go into overdrive as his cheeks burned at the thought. Yoongi was not his boyfriend, but he wanted him to be and that meant that he was going to have to ask him. He needed a plan to do that, but just as his brain got to working on one Yoongi’s car pulled up.

The thought was dismissed as he hopped in and Yoongi leaned over to give him a quick peck on the lips before pulling away from the building.

For a moment all YN thought about was how soft his lips were.

That was until he realized he was unfamiliar with the route being driven and didn’t even know what the date was supposed to be.

“Uh, where are we going?” he asked.

Yoongi shook his head immediately. “I didn’t tell you for a reason. You’ll find out when we get there.”

Naturally, that made YN pout, but he didn’t press him for it.

“I would joke about you taking me somewhere to kill me, but you’re too lazy to dispose of a body. Unless Sidney didn’t actually go on a date and is waiting for you and my dead body at a second location.”

At first Yoongi laughed, but then his brows furrowed and a frown formed upon his lips.

“She has a date? Please tell me it’s not with anal bead dude?”

All YN did was sigh and that elicited a groan of annoyance from Yoongi. He didn’t care for the man and that was before the aforementioned incident. There were many times he’d told YN, Sidney, their friends, and the man in question how stupid he thought he was. And how he didn’t understand how he managed to get Sidney to be around him for more than two seconds, let alone became a doctor. It wasn’t the most he’d disliked one of the people Sid was with, but it was apparently up there on the top of the list.

“You know she isn’t even into him that much, so I don’t know why you’re so worried. Not like she’s going to marry him suddenly. She’d probably marry Jin before anyone else. They mesh,” YN offered trying to placate him.

There was a huff from Yoongi and then a nod. “True. Or Hoseok, they would probably be good together. If they ever stopped being busy when the other could finally come around.”

“One day.”

From there conversation fizzled and YN stared out of the window watching the world go by. Minutes ticked by and then they were pulled into a parking lot and headed to a train station. Even as YN realized the direction they were headed he couldn’t figure out what it was they were going to do.

Which was fine since they reached their destination and he would have never guessed it in a million years. And he was beyond happy about that.

They stood in line at a place that wore the sign of the artist he’d wanted to see the work of and from the windows he could see it was a similar pop up to the one they’d been meant to go to. The pieces were different, but it was still a set up for dining amongst the works.

YN was so shocked and giddy that he didn’t utter a word until they were seated at a table for two and waiting for their waiter to return with water.

“I didn’t know they opened another one. I’d been hoping and stalking their accounts for it, but nothing ever came up. Not even yesterday. This is so fuckin’ cool,” he said.

The ramblings of joy didn’t stop there, YN continued on gushing about the artwork and about how much he loved being there. And there were several thank yous thrown Yoongi’s way, all of which he waved off.

There just hadn’t been something that excited him like that in a while and he couldn’t shut up about it. Not that Yoongi seemed to mind. They still had a back and forth, Yoongi putting his two cents in and sometimes being the reason for why the conversation shifted in one direction or another. Though it was mostly about the artwork and sometimes about how good the food was.

Before YN knew it they’d finished dinner and began to walk around to look at the art. Though the entrance area held some there was another room down a short hallway that gave more of the feel of an actual gallery. The things hung in there had a similar feel to the things in the dining space but were vastly different. The artist tended to be more traditional with their stuff, but the things back there were more digital.

And right then YN fell more in love with their work and Yoongi found himself entranced by it for the first time.

At that point they were kids in a candy store calling over the parents every time they found something that they loved. It was chaotic, but they both had enough patience to wait for one another to come look at what they were talking about.

They were beyond adorable. But they were also so caught up in the work that they didn’t realize how much time had passed until there was an announcement of five minutes until closing. There was some pouting on both their parts, but they understood and turned to go hand and hand.

Until YN stopped suddenly.

Confused, Yoongi stopped too and turned to glance at him. He was met with a wide smile, but a determined expression. It clearly worried him and he opened his mouth to speak, but so did YN.

“Is somethi-”

“Will you be my boyfriend? Also, can we do the tattoo tonight?”

The first question had Yoongi choking on air and missing the second one.

“Repeat that,” he said.

Seconds ticked by with YN saying nothing, because despite the confidence during the initial ask, he felt his nerves kick in hard as he was requested to say it again.

“Um, well I asked if you would be my boyfriend and if I could finally get that tattoo.”

More silence came as Yoongi’s mouth opened wide and closed repeatedly, the poor man was doing a terrible fish impression. It would have been funny or something to tease him about in many situations, but all it did was make YN nervous as he waited for an answer.

Thankfully, the suffering only lasted about thirty seconds before Yoongi pulled it together. He pulled YN close, their faces inches apart and then answered.

“Yes,” he said before closing the distance and pressing a kiss to YN’s lips.

It was a gentle, yet passionate kiss that made YN melt into his embrace. He never wanted to leave that moment, but when they pulled apart he couldn’t stop the happy feeling that filled him. Which was only amplified by Yoongi’s bright smile.

They would have stayed like that, but then the two-minute warning came and they realized they needed to move. But before they left Yoongi turned to YN.

“Also, that was yes to both things if that wasn’t clear. I’ll text Kook in the car.”

And just like that they were off. They practically sprinted to the train station and then to the car once they got off the train. There was a buzz of adrenaline surrounding them and it didn’t start to lessen until they stepped foot inside the shop.

Though Yoongi still appeared incredibly happy and ready to conquer the world, YN found himself deflating a bit. Each step towards Yoongi’s room brought on nerves and by the time his butt hit the seat of the tattoo chair he felt like he was halfway ready to sprint out of the room.

All the feelings from when they chose the tattoo came back and he was there unsure of whether to go through it, despite really wanting to. It was a recipe for disappointment and he didn’t want to chicken out again, but his brain wasn’t being kind.

The shift in him went unnoticed by Yoongi until he turned to him with the printed off stencil in hand. When he saw YN’s downturned lips and the tense behavior he frowned.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Yoongi said softly.

That almost broke YN, because he was being so sweet about enduring YN’s indecisive ass twice in a row. It was too nice of him and it only made YN frown more, but instead of guilt flooding in certainty did. Something in YN shifted and drowned out the other voice being a pain in his ass and suddenly a smile graced his lips.

“No. I want to do it,” he said.

Of course, Yoongi appeared unsure for a moment but after staring him down he nodded and got to work.

Alcohol pads were used to wipe down YN’s arm and then the stencil was placed. It was done a few times to get the right placement, but when it was just right on his forearm Yoongi proceeded; with caution though.

He allowed YN to choose the music and asked if he was sure, then grabbed the gun and turned it on. The first mark was a tense one for both of them, but as time went on things grew more relaxed and went along smoothly.

The tattoo in question wasn’t that big, but it had some intricate details that needed all of Yoongi’s focus. It left YN alone with his thoughts, but he never drifted to a bad place. If anything he was more so worried about how long it would take and trying to play on his phone without moving the arm that Yoongi was working on.

A few hours and one small break later though, the tattoo was done. Yoongi had been able to get it done completely but said YN would have to come back once it was healed to get it colored again just to be safe.

That didn’t matter to YN though. In that moment all he wanted to do was see the thing. He’d avoided looking at it through the process and during the break so he could get the full effect, and that is definitely what he got.

The moment his eyes laid on the tattoo through the mirror his body shook as tears fell rapidly.

On his forearm was a forest of leafless trees. The setting was winter and that could be seen from the snow that was depicted falling down. While the trees were a lot of the tattoo they started before the crook up his elbow and stopped about two or three inches before his wrist. From that point on a plot of blue dahlias among snow took up the remainder of the space. Though the ones they were thinking of when coming up with the tattoo were red, they’d chosen blue because it was something that already brought YN happiness. But it didn’t stop there. Since the dahlias weren’t as tall as the trees it left space above it. So, in the midst of all the little snowflakes were words written in a beautiful script. They were truly the thing that evoked the most emotion from YN.

We'll be in full bloom at the end of these hardships.

Those words resonated with him on a whole different level and though they were bittersweet, all he felt was joy with them. Hope too. Those were things he thought were out of his reach, but he’d finally felt them.

Yoongi, Sidney, their friends, and most of all YN himself had finally helped him see he could feel like life was on his side. And it was the greatest feeling in the world.

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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male half-firbolg, half-drow x reader (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

The first 500 words of this are dedicated to @akaneakiwolf who won the second prize slot in my 10k follower giveaway. They asked me just to write something that inspired me, which was very generous of them, and, well, this story ran away with me a bit.

It definitely feels like a part one. Because this was a Tumblr-based giveaway, this wasn’t previewed on my Patreon, but any future parts will definitely go up on Patreon first on early-release.

Content: fluff. Just... fluff. And plonts. Wordcount: 1871

___

With the distinctive white hair and pewter skin of a drow, but standing at nine feet tall and broader at the shoulder than any elf ever had been, the university’s new groundskeeper drew a fair bit of attention to himself in his first week. It wasn’t until you were leaving campus one evening that you got a closer look at him though, and realised he wasn’t a drow, or at least, with his slightly bovine nose and ears, he couldn’t be a full drow. He had to have a fairly sizable dose of firbolg blood in him too, which was an unusual combination to say the least. He wore it well though.

You passed by the stretch of grass where he was raking up winter leaves with the steady, hypnotic rhythm of someone completely lost in their task, and you really did try not to stare. He was heart-stoppingly gorgeous though. He wore a sleeveless, white shirt despite the winter chill, which showed off tight bands of muscle in his thick, lean arms, the gunmetal grey of his skin looking more like living shadow in the fading light. His pure-white hair was thick and long, falling right the way to the small of his back, restrained back in an unadorned braid. Scruffy, pale jeans with rips in the knees were tucked into old, scuffed leather boots, and he wore a wide leather cuff around each wrist.

He twitched his gaze sideways at you as you inevitably slowed, and as his eyes made contact with yours, you saw piercing silver irises flash in the dusk. “Goodnight,” you chirped as you scurried towards the bus with your bag slung over your shoulder and bashing you painfully in the hip with each step; the thing was groaning at the seams with books and it was threatening to give out on you at any minute.

The groundskeeper just nodded once and turned silently back to his work.

Next morning as you scuttled and flailed from the bus towards the faculty building where, in a mere five minutes’ time, you were supposed to be giving a lecture, your bag finally decided to give way.

The bottom corner ripped open, and the canvas tore with a loud groan, dumping your books onto the damp tarmac of the path, along with half a dozen pens and pencils, a few snacks, the odd wrapper which immediately decided to flutter away on the light breeze, your phone, wallet, house keys, and a small array of small change that had somehow fallen out of your wallet too.

“Fuck,” you snarled, dumping the remnants of the bag on the path and scampering after the wrappers before they got too far.

When you returned, you found the groundskeeper approaching at a steady stride, a large bag of leaves abandoned nearby, his head cocked slightly to one side. Instead of the practically indecent white tank top that he’d worn yesterday, he had on a thick flannel shirt over the top of a close-fitting black tank that day, with a small array of pens and screwdrivers and what might have been a penknife tucked in the top pocket. His facial features were monumental, rugged and harsh, but he was far from unattractive. On the contrary, with the rough, white stubble you could see along his jaw and around his mouth, he looked positively delectable. His silver eyes reflected like mirrors and his already large, almost cow-like eyes were pinched a little with concern.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I’m late,” you moaned as you approached your forlorn little scattering of belongings. “My bag gave up the ghost and I’ve got a class full of undergrads to teach.”

He blinked at you again then, as if reassessing you.

“What?” you asked, stooping to start picking stuff up.

“Nothing. I just thought…”

“Thought what?”

You shot him a quick look and caught the way he scratched the back of his head and then shrugged, his cheeks darkening slightly. “I thought you were a student when you passed me yesterday. I'm sorry.”

You snorted but didn’t look up again. You might get distracted if you did. Instead, you watched the way he adjusted his not inconsiderate weight by the slight shuffle of his dirty old boots out of the corner of your eye. A moment later, he stooped, his knees cracking loudly as he bent down, and he handed you a small pile of books. In fact though, what looked like a small pile of books in his scarred, rough hand was actually four thick tomes, and you nearly wheezed as you took them from him.

“I’m Suléth,” he added shyly. He had a strand of his white mane that had escaped the plait and was dangling alluringly in front of his silver eyes in a way that was entirely too fascinating.

You softened, offered him your name, thanked him, and then bolted.

You didn’t see Suléth again until the next day, and this time he was laying out new bark chipping around a flowerbed near the campus canteen. With a huge bag balanced on his right shoulder, and another half-full and dangling from his left hand, he made his way to the end of the path. There he set the heavy bag down for later and began to shake the remnants of the first loose around the little, tough-looking evergreens planted in a neat line along the bed. That day his hair was plaited into three braids on each side, which joined at the nape of his neck into a single, thick rope. There was a single black bead halfway down this time, and you wondered idly as you approached if that held any significance. You knew nothing about either firbolg or drow culture, both tending to be somewhat secretive, or at least secluded in the case of firbolgs. The fact that he was living here in Old Trollbridge, and not in some commune in the forests near Starfall Springs, or deep underground in the Starfall Mountains may well have meant he’d left his heritage behind him. Or it may have had nothing to do with that whatsoever.

His bovine ear twitched and his nose lifted slightly as you made your way towards him, and he turned with a very slight smile on his lips.

“Morning Suléth,” you greeted him as you slowed. Nodding at the flowerbed, you added, “That looks good. I wish I had a garden, but I think I’d just kill it anyway. I’m not good with plants.”

“Everyone’s good with at least one plant,” he replied in a softly amused rumble, but he didn’t offer any further comment.

“I’ve got to run - again - but I’m glad I saw you,” you smiled as you excused yourself.

Suléth bowed his head politely and you left him to get on with his work.

Exhausted, hungry, and probably dehydrated too - staff room coffee was not known for its nutritious, hydrating properties after all - you slouched out of the department that evening and made your way along the paths of the grounds until you paused by the bed of winter plants where Suléth had been working that morning. The wood chippings had been neatly banked back off the path, and the plants looked frankly cosy beneath the blanket that the chipping created. The groundskeeper’s hut sat across the campus, near the overflow car park that was rarely used, and in the opposite direction from home, but you found yourself leaving the campus by that exit. Something about the way he’d looked at you earlier drew you to him, shy as you still felt.

The hut door was open, but you didn't see him and, not wanting to come across as a complete creep, you headed out of the gate and onto the street beyond. You’d gone no further than a few paces down the road, however, when you head him call your name. Turning, you found Suléth loping easily along to catch up with you, and he had something in his big hand. With a frown, you saw it for what it was, and your stomach swooped unexpectedly. It was a small pot-plant.

“I hope you don’t think it’s too forward of me,” he began as he drew level with you.

You craned your neck up to look at him and smiled inarticulately, unable to muster anything else at the sight of him looking slightly flushed and a little flustered.

“It’s called a sansevieria,” he said awkwardly. “It’s basically indestructible…”

“When did you get that?” you asked as he stretched his hand out for you to take it. “I only told you about my special way with plants this morning!” The sansevieria had tall, upright, blade-like leaves, the centre of which was a dark, mottled green, with a sharp line of pale, yellow-green along the edges.

Suléth stepped back so that you didn’t get a crick in your neck, and smiled lopsidedly. You liked the way it made his strange, sensitive looking nose crinkle on one side, and his silver eyes glinted warmly as he replied, “I got it on my lunch break. There’s a shop not too far from here that sells plants. Friend of mine owns it. I… I hope it’s not… uh…”

“Thank you,” you said, and in a rush of boldness, you reached out and touched his muscular forearm. He’d cuffed the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbow, revealing dark grey skin dusted attractively with white hair. “I love it. How do I look after it?”

“Water it every now and again,” he shrugged, his solid muscles relaxing intoxicatingly beneath your fingertips.

“Everyone who’s planty always says that, but how often is ‘every now and again’?” you practically whined. “That could be twice a year or every three days!”

Suléth’s amused laugh was deep and soft as distant thunder, and his eyes sparkled. “Every couple of weeks, give it a cup of water, but only if the soil’s completely dry. How’s that?”

“That I can work with. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Suléth sighed softly and said, “So… I’ll… uh… see you around?”

“I hope so,” you smiled and turned to go, plant in your hands, repaired bag slung over one shoulder. “Thank you.”

The half-firbolg watched you go for a little while and then turned to head back into the car park behind him.

It wasn’t until you got home and arranged the so-called ‘indestructible’ plant - ‘I’ll do my best, but we’ll see about that, won’t we?’ you told it softly - on the kitchen windowsill that you noticed a post-it note attached to the little information tab in the pot.

In completely terrible, chicken-scratch handwriting was written a phone number and a short note which read ‘I’m not very good with words but I’d love to go for coffee sometime with you and get to know you better, if that’s something you’d like. If not, then please just accept this plant as a gift, and hopefully the start of a little collection of your own. Suléth x’

You read it through three times, heart hammering with excitement before drawing out your phone and composing a text to him.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#exophilia #monster boyfriend #firbolg #drow #half firbolg #half drow #monster x reader #gender neutral reader #sfw

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thebluesideofmyworld · 4 years

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Will You, or Will You Not - A Solangelo One-Shot

Summary: The three times when Will asked Nico about marriage. And the one time when he screwed up. Well, kind of.

Word Count: 5300 words | Read on AO3

[one]: The first time Will asked Nico whether he wanted to get married, Will was 16 years old

Will didn’t know why or what it was exactly that made the thought crossed his mind. Probably it was the perfect weather, or the way the sky looked so blue. Or the way the sunlight seeped in through the leaves of the big oak tree where they were spending their afternoon.

Or maybe, it was because of Nico. The way his dark hair felt so soft between Will’s fingers as he played with it. The way he looked like a beautiful contrast of the summer palette of the scene. The way just being with Nico made Will’s heart constrict with so much affection. It was almost scary how this small boy laying his head on Will’s lap could make Will feel so many emotions at once.

Whatever it was, the question just blurted out from Will.

“Neeks, do you want to get married someday?”

Nico’s eyes opened at once, then he blinked.

Will already regretted asking the question when Nico sat up. The serene expression that he had two seconds ago disappeared, as he was looking at Will with confusion.

“What?”

“Hey… relax, Neeks,” Will said. He laughed, a bit nervously. He ruffled Nico’s hair. “It’s not like I am asking you to marry me.”

Nico stared at Will with an unreadable expression. Or maybe Will just didn’t dare to guess whether Nico was disappointed; or he was relieved that no, Will’s question wasn’t exactly a marriage proposal.

“I mean… At least, not now …” Will added, rather quietly. He looked down, and reached out for Nico’s hand. He held it, and watched the way Nico’s fingers filled the gap between his. It’s soothing. To have Nico’s hand in his. Will looked up again to meet Nico’s eyes, and smiled softly.

Nico bit down his lower lip, then he looked away from Will. For a while, it looked like he was lost in his thoughts.

“Come here,” Will said, letting go of Nico’s hand just so he could pull Nico closer to him. Nico leaned his head on Will’s shoulder. Will sneaked his arm around Nico’s back to hold him. Nico’s hand found Will’s and held it.

“Is that even possible ?” Nico asked. His voice laced with doubts. “A boy, getting married to another boy ?”

“It is,” Will said, knowing that it might be something that Nico still had some trouble to believe in. Heck, months ago, it took quite some time and many conversations to make him believe that yes, a boy could have a boyfriend. “It might not seem possible decades ago, Neeks. But yes, it is possible now.”

“Are we even going to get to that point, though?”

The question was more than just about whether they would still be together, years from now. It was also a question of whether they would still be around.

“Hey,” Will said. “Let’s not think about whether we would ever going to get there.”

“What should we think about, then?’

“Let’s just think about how wonderful it would be when we get there.”

Nico snorted. “Always the optimistic one, aren’t you, Solace?”

“The romantic one, to be exact,” Will said, and placed a soft kiss on Nico’s temple.

For a while, none of them said anything. Will mindlessly drew small circles on the back of Nico’s hand that he was holding.

“But… We don’t have to, you know…” Will said carefully. “I mean… People don’t have to get married to stay together…”

Nico still didn’t say anything, and Will honestly had no idea what it was running through Nico’s mind. And naturally, just like he did whenever he got nervous about something, Will started rambling.

“I mean… yeah, getting married sounds nice and wedding parties are always fun but… it’s just a piece of paper, right? And people don’t have to get married to stay together, as long as they love each other it won’t really matter, right? As long as they’re happy I think-“

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

There was amusement in Nico’s voice. Will tilted his head a bit so he could look at Nico. Nico’s eyes were closed, but the tips of lips curled up just a bit, into the vaguest of a smile. Will let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” Will said. He took Nico’s hand to his lips, and pressed a light kiss on the knuckles. Nico shifted so now he was laying his head on Will’s lap. Will gently runs his fingers through the strands of Nico’s hair. A few minutes of comfortable science passed by, and Will wished there was a kind of magic where he could freeze this moment. Not just a picture of them, together like this. But also the feeling of contentment. The feeling of serene and peacefulness, just because they were together.

Nico opened his eyes. He gazed at the sky. “I think… I went to a wedding party once. When I was a kid,” Nico said.

“In Italy?”

Nico hummed. His brows furrowed down a bit, and there was a small frown on his face, like he was trying to concentrate on calling back a memory.

“I can’t even remember whose wedding that was,” Nico said. “Probably one of my aunts? Or maybe it was one of my Mama’s friends?”

Will gently ran his finger on Nico’s brow, smoothing out the line. “What else that you can remember?” Will asked, as he started to lightly massage Nico’s temple with his fingers. Sometimes Nico had flashes of memories from his past, and whenever he tried to remember about the memory clearly, he had a headache.

“I remember wearing a suit? And eating cakes.”

“Wedding cakes are always the best.”

“I remember seeing Mama danced. Maybe with Hades? Or was it my grandfather? But I remember how she smiled and laughed and looked so pretty in her yellow dress. It was flowing around her.”

“That sounds lovely…”

Nico stayed quiet for a moment before he continued. “Bianca also danced with me that day. She wore a green dress.”

Will kissed the crown of Nico’s head. Nico closed his eyes again for a while. When he opened it, his dark eyes were gazing at something far away. At a distant memory.

“I don’t…really remember what else that happened, or who else that was there. But I remember that… there was music. And cakes. And people were smiling and laughing.” Nico sighed. He took one of Will’s hands that was massaging his temple, and put it over his chest.

“I remember that everyone was happy. I was happy.”

Will smiled. “I’m glad that it was a happy memory.”

“Yeah,” Nico said. “And I guess…you’re right. Wedding parties sound like fun.”

A small flower of hope bloomed inside Will’s chest. “We can have a fun wedding party for our wedding.”

Nico snorted, but his cheeks turned into a shade of red. “As long as we can make sure that Apollo is not the wedding singer.”

Will laughed. His chest was filled with warm and light air and he was just so so happy and optimistic and everything felt lighter and looked brighter.

“It’s something that can be arranged,” Will said. “As long as I get to pick the song for our first dance.”

***

[two]: The second time Will asked Nico about marriage, they were just starting a new phase in their life together.

They still have a few boxes left to unpack. But it’s already late and they were both exhausted. Besides, it’s Friday anyway, so they still have Saturday and Sunday to do the unpacking and putting the stuff where they want to be before Will started his first day in med school. So they decided to go to bed and get their much-needed rest.

Their bed, Will thought giddily as he lied down on the fresh sheets. It was dark with only dim light from the street lamps seeping in from the blue curtains. But when Will stared at the ceiling, he knew that it was painted in sky blue, with stripes of dark blue lining up the part where the ceiling meets the walls.

It wasn’t much. Just a small one-bedroom apartment, but at least it’s close enough to Cornell, where Will had received a scholarship for his study.

It was just almost too good to be true, Will had a hard time to believe in his luck. Getting a degree in Biochemistry from the University of New Rome where he went through the premed track hadn’t really been a surprise. Almost all of the demigods who decided to go to college went there anyway. But to receive a financial aid to go to the med school like what he had always dreamed about? Now that, was one of the best things ever happened in his life. Will was aware that it probably had something to do with how the Apollo’s legacies pulled some strings. But still.

One great thing was followed by another great thing. After four years of going through some sort of long-distance relationship with Nico while doing his undergrad, Nico agreed to move in together into this small apartment. Nico himself finally managed to get a high-school diploma after passing the GED test. And now while doing some stuff for Hades every once in a while, he took some online classes to have a degree in criminal justice.

Just thinking about Nico made something fluttered pleasantly inside Will’s chest. He turned around to lie on his side. He smiled as he watched Nico, who was lying on his side with his eyes closed. Will gently brushed Nico’s hair from covering his forehead. Nico’s eyes fluttered open.

“You’re not sleeping yet?” Nico asked sleepily.

“Not really sleepy yet,” Will said, half-whispering.

“Well, I want to sleep. I’m exhausted,” Nico said and closed his eyes again.

Will chuckled and snaked his arm around Nico, pulling him closer. Nico groaned but shifted towards Will, and rested his cheek on Will’s shoulder.

Will kissed Nico’s forehead and started playing with Nico’s hair. Nico let out a content sigh.

I can get used to this, Will thought, unconsciously smiling. And his heart swelled to remember that Nico would be the first sight that he saw once he opened his eyes tomorrow. And the day after. And the days after. That thought made a warm rush through his vein. The thought that Nico would be the last thing that he saw before he fell asleep at night, and Nico would be the first thing he saw when the morning came.

Yeah. That would be nice, Will thought.

And another thought crossed Will’s mind. He wouldn’t mind having this for the rest of his life.

“Hey, Neeks?”

A wordless grunt was the only answer that came from Nico.

“You still want to get married, right?”

Nico got tensed for a second. Will’s heart missed a beat.

“What do you mean?” Nico asked him back without looking up at Will.

Wills shrugged. He continued playing with the soft strand of Nico’s hair. It was still a bit damp from the shower, and smelled faintly of cinnamon.

“I mean, now that we live together… I guess… it’s just nice if we can… stay together…”

Will let the words for the rest of our lives stayed as a secret hope inside his heart.

“You said that people don’t have to get married to stay together.”

Will bit his lower lip. A piece of his heart shattered.

“Well, yeah. I guess I did say so.”

Will took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh, half-aware of how it was a bit shaky. Nico was right. Indeed, they didn’t actually need a piece of paper to stay together. It’s not like Will was obsessed with the idea of getting married. What he wanted, what he really wanted, was to be with Nico.

But getting married wasn’t exactly an idea that Will was against to. It wasn’t like Will never secretly thought of writing his name as Will Solace-di Angelo (it sounded better on his tongue than Will di Angelo-Solace). And getting married seemed to be one of the most logical things to settle down. To have a more solid future together.

But if it wasn’t something that Nico wanted, then maybe it wasn’t something meant for them.

And Will would be fine with it. As long as they could still stay together. Will couldn’t lie about the slightly bitter disappointment, creeping in a small hole in his chest. But he would be fine.

Nico still said nothing, but he ran his palm gently over Will’s chest.

Will let out another shaky sigh. He tried to smile. Nico couldn’t see it, of course. But Will hoped that the smile that he was trying to put on could mask the emotion in his voice.

“So it’s not something you want, then?”

Nico stopped running his palm over Will’s chest. He pushed himself up, and used his elbow as leverage as he stared at Will. Nico cocked his head a little. Even in the darkness, Will could feel how Nico’s eyes were looking at his own, through his own.

“What made you think that I don’t want to be with you forever?” Nico asked. His voice was low but somehow it still sounded too loud in the darkness.

“I am not talking about you not wanting to be together-“

“Do you not want us to be together?”

“I do! I mean, I do want us to be together! You know I love you, Nico. I love you so much, I want to always be with you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Will sighed. “I mean…is getting married something that you want? Or it’s not exactly something that you’re thinking about?”

Nico pressed his index finger on Will’s lips gently. There was a small smile on his own. And Will knew that it was the kind of smile that Nico kept only for Will to be the receiving end. A smile that made Will fell in love all over again.

“Let’s see if we can keep this apartment in one piece together, then we’ll think about that other stuff, okay?”

The stone inside Will’s chest melted into warm honey.

“Okay,” Will whispered. Nico gently placed a chaste kiss on Will’s lips, then he lied down again, cheek pressing against Will’s chest.

“So you’re going to say yes if I ask you to marry me?”

Nico snorted. “If you ask me the question, it’s better be in a way that made me cry in happiness.”

Will laughed and it sounded so loud in the comfortable darkness around them.

“Noted,” Will said.

“And if you’re not crying when you see me on the aisle, I am canceling the wedding.”

Will smiled as he ran his hand over Nico’s side. He kissed the top of Nico’s head.

“I love you so much, Nico. So much.”

“I love you too. Now go to sleep.”

What Nico said wasn’t exactly an answer to Will’s question. But it’s a possibility. And possibility meant hope. So Will let the flowers of hope bloomed in his chest. He let the butterflies danced happily inside of him.

***

[three]: The third time Will asked Nico about getting married, he screwed up. Kind of.

It’s his last day of residency, and Will couldn’t wait to go home. After collecting the needed signature for all the paperwork needed, he did another round in the hospital, saying goodbye to his patients. Being himself, Will couldn’t help but to feel some sort of emotional attachment to the children who have been under his care during the residency. And it was a bit heartbreaking to say goodbye to them. But on the other hand, he was excited to start his new job. Just a few weeks before his residency ended, Will had gotten a job offer that would start in two weeks. Looked like all those long hours of hard work finally showed some results.

Will opened the door, and walked into their apartment. It’s still the same apartment that they had lived in since Will started med-school, around seven years ago. But now that Will had secured a job and with Nico’s job, they could probably start thinking of moving into a more decent one.

Will put his keys on the cabinet. “Babe? I’m home.”

“In the kitchen!”

Will made his way to the kitchen, bringing along the bottle of wine that he got as a gift from his mentor. He could hear the sound of music coming from Nico’s phone that he put on the table. He stopped on the door frame, inhaling the delicious scent of herbs and spices. He smiled as he leaned on the door frame, relishing the sight. Nico was in front of the stove. With a spoon in his hand, he’s watching whatever it was in that he had in the pan.

Will made his way to Nico, and put an arm around Nico’s shoulder. He planted a kiss on Nico’s forehead.

“Hey,” he said as he pulled himself just a bit from Nico.

Nico’s smile was still something that made Will’s heart jumped like crazy.

“Hey,” Nico said. “You’re home. Finally.” Nico tiptoed a little so he could kiss Will’s cheek.

“I bring some wine,” Will said, showing the bottle that he was holding to Nico. “Dr. Reagan gave it to me as a farewell gift.”

“Nice,” Nico said. “I like him a lot. He’s such a nice guy.” Nico took the bottle from Will and placed a hand over Will’s chest.

“Wait here,” he said. Will raised his eyebrows. With a confused expression, his eyes followed Nico who walked to the other side of the kitchen. That’s when he saw their crystal vase on the cabinet, filled with red roses and sunflowers. Nico put the bottle next to the vase, and took one of the roses.

Will leaned on the counter, smile weaved in to his face as he watched Nico. With a rose in his hand, Nico walked towards Will. The small smile curled on Nico’s lips still sent a shiver down Will’s spine as he handed Will the rose.

“I got you flowers,” Nico said. He tiptoed to peck Will’s lip. “Congratulations on finishing your residency.“

Will wrapped his arms around Nico’s neck, as Nico looped his around Will’s waist.

“And people think I am the romantic one,” Will teased. He brought the rose to his nose and inhaled the sweet scent.

“You are,” Nico said. “The romantic one, and the annoying one,” he added, resting the side of his face on Will’s chest. “But I am so proud of you, tesoro.”

“I love you, darling,” Will said, sealing it with a kiss on the top of Nico’s head.

“I love you too,” Nico said, pulling himself so he could look up at Will. “Now go have a shower and change your shirt.”

Will flicked Nico’s nose with the rose. “Whatever you say, darl.” He planted another kiss on Nico’s forehead before going to their bedroom to do what Nico said.

About half an hour and a fresh shirt later, he walked back into their kitchen. The vase with the flowers was now on the table that has been set up. Nico even put the nice table cloth that he usually reserved for when they had guests coming over. Nico was placing the napkins that he had folded into some complicated shape. He brushed some of his rebellious hair that fell over his forehead and looked up.

Years of being together, and still, the moment their eyes met made Will breathless.

Nico smiled. He already took off his apron, and he was wearing the gray shirt that looked so good on him. With a few wide steps, Will made his way towards Nico. He pulled Nico into his arm, and kissed his forehead.

“I am the luckiest man in the world.”

Nico chuckled, slowly running his palm over Will’s chest. “For what? For finally finishing your residency? For getting the job that you have always dreamed of?”

“For having you with me. All these times.”

“Don’t go all sappy on me, Solace. You still have to do the dishes after this.”

Will kissed the top of Nico’s head. He knew that he kissed Nico a lot but he couldn’t care less, he would do it whenever he wanted to.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Will closed his eyes, pleased to realize how Nico’s breathing and his fell into the same rhythm. Will was pretty sure that if he put his hand over Nico’s chest, he could feel the way their heartbeat in the same rhythm too.

Then he heard the first of notes of his favorite songs coming from Nico’s phone.

Will opened his eyes, and slid down his hands from Nico’s shoulder to his hips.

“Dance with me,” Will said, started moving his hips to the tunes. Nico let out a small laugh that sounded like a heavenly music to Will’s ears.

“You suck at dancing, tesoro,” Nico said, but followed along. He looped his arms around Will’s neck, and swayed to the music.

Nico was right, of course. Will sucked at dancing, and Nico was far better. So Will let Nico lead them, as they slowly moved around their small kitchen. Nico hummed along to the song, and Will felt they were dancing on the clouds. He wished he had the magic to freeze this whole moment into a glass bubble that he would place carefully on his bedside table, right next to frame that held their picture together.

Their eyes locked and Will was just so so in love with Nico. He marveled at how Nico’s dark eyes held a twinkle, as if he kept stars behind those eyes. He stared in awe at how the tips of Nico’s lips curled up into a crescent moon, forming the most wonderful smile.

It’s been years and both of them have changed and grown so much. But they were still so much in love with each other like years before. No. Scratch that. They loved each other even more than before. Nico was the one that made Will wanted to go through another day, because he knew that Nico would be a part of it. Nico was still the one who could make him believe that everything would be alright, because they had each other. Nico would always be the one, the only one who Will could dream of having a future with. Will could see himself holding Nico in his arms like this tomorrow, next year… Gods, Will could see them holding each other like this five, fifteen and even fifty years from now.

And it was like an epiphany for Will. That Nico was, still, and would always be the one that Will wanted to be with. Forever.

For-

“Marry me.”

Nico raised his eyebrows, looking dazed, like he didn’t really catch what Will just sad. “Huh?”

Will stopped dancing, and took both of Nico’s hand into his.

“Marry me, Nico.”

Nico looked positively confused now. He stared at Will, some strands of his dark hair falling over his wide eyes.

“Will?”

“Nico, I’m not just asking you whether you ever think of getting married someday. This time I am really asking you to marry me,” Will said, words falling out from his lips quickly as he stared back at Nico, hoping that Nico understands how much he wanted this.

He took a deep breath, then kneel down on one knee, still holding Nico’s hands.

“Niccolo Matteo di Angelo, will you marry me?”

Nico’s dark eyes stared back at Will with an expression that Will couldn’t read. Will couldn’t guess whether Nico wanted to scream in pure joy or cry or upset or maybe he wanted to hit Will on his head for being so not romantic-

Then Nico sighed and looked away from Will. “Why do you have to ruin it, Will?”

Will felt like his heart plummeted down into Tartarus. Then it struck him. The conversation they had years ago.

“Schist! I screwed up, didn’t I?”

Will stood up, feeling how his heart started cracking. He slowly rubbed his face with both hands. He was so so stupid. He should have planned it. He should have at least prepared something instead of just asking the question. Holy Hades, he hadn’t even had a ring yet!

He let out a long desperate sigh as he ran his hand over his head. He braced himself to peek at Nico. Nico still stood where he was, only one step away from Will. He still had that unreadable expression on his face. He kept his eyes at Will, head slightly tilted to the left, like he was curious about what Will about to do next.

Will took another deep breath, trying to come up with a plan.

“Nico, I am so so very sorry,” he said. “You deserve something better. And I will give it to you. You deserve nothing but the best, and what I just did wasn’t even close to something good.”

“Will-“

But Will kept on talking. A plan already formed in his head. He would fix this. He had to, he wanted to, and he would. He took Nico’s hands again, praying to whichever deities up there to have some mercy on him and help him fixing this mess that he just created.

“Nico, darling. Listen. Give me another chance, okay? Just one. One more chance. Give me twenty-four hours and I will ask you again but not in this shitty way but in whatever way you want me to. Just tell me. This time I will make it right. It will be something-“

“Will.” This time Nico put two fingers on Will’s lips to stop him from talking. “Stop.”

So Will stopped talking. For a second. The moment Nico took away his fingers from his lips, he blurted out a question.

“Are you mad at me?”

It looked like Nico was holding back a smile when he shook his head. “No, Will. I’m not mad at you.”

Will’s chest felt lighter. He opened his mouth, ready to repeat his pleas of having another chance but Nico was quicker.

“Will, listen to me.”

Will blinked.

“I need to tell you something.”

Gods. This must be it, Will thought. He must have screwed up so bad and this must be the part where Nico was going to tell him that it’s all over now.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Nico’s eyes widened again. “What? No! What makes you think so?”

“Because I screwed up! And you told me that I ruined it but believe me Nico, we could fix it. We could-“

“Will, for the love of Apollo and all his Muses, would you please listen to me?”

Will shut up.

Nico took a deep breath, and took Will’s hand. He squeezed it. “Now, wait here, okay?”

Will nodded. Nico pecked his cheek and let go of Will’s hands. Will watched as Nico walked to the cabinets, the one where he kept his precious herbs and spices. It’s one of the cabinets that Will never touched. Nico loved cooking and he treasured the herbs and spices that he kept there. He had his own system in arranging the bottles and packages in the cabinet, and Will had learned the hard way that Nico would know if any of the bottles moved for even just half-an-inch.

Nico opened the cabinet and took something from it. Will started to wonder how would some Italian herbs and spices had anything to do with what just happened. Then as he watched Nico who was walking back towards him, he finally saw what it was that Nico held in his hand.

Will gasped.

Nico stopped in front of Will, his dark eyes were soft but also full of determination.

There was a small, amused smile on Nico’s lips as he held up the small box on his hand for Will to see.

“I have already planned to be the one asking you the question. But you ruined it.”

Will’s hand flew to his mouth. He had no idea how he was still standing when his legs felt like they were turned into overcooked spaghetti. He had no idea how on earth he was still breathing when he was about to burst into millions of glitters and confetti.

Nico flipped the box open. A pair of golden rings stood out on the dark blue velvet of the box. There was a thin black stripe around the middle of each ring.

Nico took Will’s left hand and held it firmly in his.

“Will, you are the one who stayed with me. The one who asked me to stay. The one who gave me a reason to stay. You are the one that made me feel my life is something worth to live in. I don’t know whether it was fate or anything that made us found each other, I am just glad that we did.”

Will tried to hold his tears, but a stubborn one still rolled out of his eyes.

“With you, everything felt a bit easier. Life was not easy. It would never be easy for us. But with you, it’s more bearable. And I can only think of you when I try to think of the future.”

Still holding Will’s hand in his, Nico kneeled down on one knee.

“William Lucian Solace, will you marry me?”

Will smiled but that smile wasn’t even close to what he was feeling now.

“Do you even have to ask?”

“Just answer the question, tesoro. You’ve ruined half of my plan so I would really appreciate it if you don’t ruin the other half.”

“Yes, Nico. Yes.”

The half-crescent moon weaved its way back to Nico’s lips as he took one of the rings from the box, and put it on the floor. He gently slid the ring into Will’s finger, then brought Will’s hand to his lips to kiss the knuckles.

Nico took the box back and stood up. Will took the other ring out. His hands were slightly shaky as he took Nico’s left hand, but as he slid the ring into Nico’s finger, he knew that this was one of the best things that ever happened to him in his life.

He brought Nico’s hand to his lips, and kissed the knuckles. The gold felt cold against his lips, and Nico’s eyes that were staring at him were warm. Will’s heart swelled and it felt like his chest was about to explode with this blissful, heavenly feeling.

Will wrapped his around Nico, kissing him like it was the only thing that kept him alive. Somewhere at the back of his head, he half-heard the sound of the box fell on the floor but then everything was forgotten as he felt Nico cupping his cheeks, kissing him back.

Nico slowly pulled away, but he gently put his finger on Will’s lips, like he was trying to touch the taste of the kiss left there. Will opened his eyes, and kissed Nico’s forehead. Nico leaned his cheek on Will’s chest, and let Will wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m sorry that I ruined your plan,” Will said.

Nico chuckled. “It’s okay. You only ruined half of it.”

“And I’m sorry for not being romantic when proposing.”

Nico pulled away just a little. He kissed the tip of Will’s nose. “Nothing to be sorry for, tesoro. You’re just being you, and that’s what I love the most about you.”

He rested his head on Will’s shoulder. “Besides, you have your twenty-four hours to fix your proposal,” he teased.

Will laughed. “Okay. But when I do it, can you wear that grey sweater that you got from Hazel? I love it when you wear it.”

Nico snorted. But Will could feel he nodded.

“Noted,” Nico said. “And if there’s any dancing involved in the proposal, let me know first what song we’ll be dancing to.”

+++

Author’s Notes 1. It’s been a while since the last time I wrote fics. I know that my writing is a bit rusty, but hopefully this won’t be the last one. 2. Thank you so so much for reading. It means a lot :) 3. Tell me what you think about this :D 4. I kind of imagined that the song that they danced to was What A Heavenly Way to Die by Troye Sivan. Or maybe Always by Panic!at the Disco. But if you have other ideas, let me know :D

#Solangelo #Will Solace #Nico di Angelo #Solangelo fanfic #Solangelo fanfiction #Solangelo one shot #Solangelo fluff #pjo #hoo #LOOK AT ME WRITING SOME FLUFF #and I post thisone when I have to lead a meeting in less than an hour #anyway I hope youguys enjoy some soft boys being so in love with each other

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sadienita · 4 years

Text

Wait For It - Part 1

Jeonghan x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning: mentions of partying and alcohol.

You had seen friend after friend meet their soulmate and fall in love and you were trying to wait for that day as patiently as you could. You thought from time to time about what your soulmate would be like, how they might act and look. Either way you were sure they would be perfect.

Some days, you really missed working. School was nice, You liked to learn and you were really interested in some of the theory behind teaching. This master’s degree was something you genuinely wanted to be doing. But being at the end of the year, frantically finishing final assignments, reminded you why you were so eager to get out of academia in the first place. School was just horribly paced for you most of the time. All of the work happened at once and even when you were working on something throughout the semester you still spent the last week before submitting it stressed that you didn’t work hard enough.

Presently, you were trying to relax. The semester was very nearly done and you had just finished up your last few assignments today, and yet you felt like you had missed something. You always felt that way but as you looked through your planner you were sure that you had finished everything.

Which was really more of a curse than a blessing.

Parties weren’t really your thing. You didn’t drink or smoke and a house full of loud people wasn’t really your idea of a fun time. But Jisoo had been begging you to go out all year with her. She knew it wasn’t really your thing but she liked to go out and was convinced you hadn’t lived enough during your undergrad.

A part of you was inclined to believe her. You had spent your whole undergrad focused on your studies. The idea of going out to a party for the night was a little intriguing. You were certainly old enough to make that sort of choice for yourself and not worry about what your parents would say.

And there was the matter of your soulmate. A lot of your friends had found their soulmates, but yours hadn’t come along yet. That might have been a good thing, it kept you a lot more focused when you weren’t falling in love with someone. You ignored any feelings that grew up for other people. Love was meant for soulmates. You didn’t want that with anyone else.

More than one of your friends had wanted to match make for you, especially when they learned that you had never dated anyone. Jisoo had too when she first met you and she’d since realized you were planning on saving all things romantic for your soulmate.

It wasn’t the most popular choice. Lots of people liked to date around until they found their soulmate, especially when they were your age. But you grew up in a small town and the idea of waiting as not only romantic to you, but so important too. Your parents did it and they had such a strong bond with each other. It was something incredibly special to only fall in love one time and to focus on one person. You didn’t want to give such important pieces of yourself to just anyone. You wanted to share that with one person.

It didn’t matter so much if your friends didn’t understand. Most of them learned to respect it over time and your conviction was strong. This was incredibly important to you. God made you one soulmate and you wanted to explore the love he allowed you to feel with that one person and only them.

At this point, Jisoo was more focused on you finding your soulmate. Maybe it was because she also hadn’t met hers yet, but she was a little obsessed with love. You could understand it, and it was a little silly, but she didn’t mean any harm by it so you let her take you to cafes and events. And today, to a sorority party her friend was throwing.

You looked yourself over in the mirror again, tugging at your shirt a little. You dressed up a little bit and the neckline was lower than you usually wore. It was different but not so much so as to be uncomfortable, and you felt it was the closest thing you really had to party clothes anyway. You weren’t sure how long you would stay. You had a feeling these sorts of things were more fun when you drank, but you were able to hold a conversation so you hoped you could find a few people who weren’t wasted to talk to.

“Oooo! You look good!” Jisoo squealed as you came out of your room.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “Just be happy I didn’t change my mind.”

“Okay but I really have a good feeling about tonight!” she said excitedly.

“Don’t you always?” you asked as you made your way outside.

She shook her head. “Not like tonight.”

You chattered with Jisoo on the way to the party, trying not to put too much stock in her words. She often said she had a good feeling about it when you went out and usually it amounted to nothing. You did want to meet your soulmate but you tried not to get your hopes up as you made your way past campus to the party house.

As you approached you could hear the din of party goers and the loud music and you almost wished you did drink. It would surely make you a little more relaxed for the evening. Jisoo seemed excited as she bounced up the lane to the house and you followed her slowly, giggling at her obvious excitement. You were going to do your best to enjoy yourself, even if just for a little while.

A wave of heat hit you as you opened the door. It was crowded and loud inside the house and the amount of people was almost dizzying. You were usually okay with crowds, you didn’t hate them or anything but for some reason looking into this sea of people you felt sick. You glanced quickly at Jisoo and took a deep breath. You were bent on doing this for her.

The two of you waded into the party and she took off quickly for the kitchen. You sighed and rolled your eyes as you made your way into the living room. It was slightly less crowded than the front hall. You slid past a group of people, a little further into the room and looked up towards the couch.

The feeling of butterflies erupting in your stomach nearly knocked the wind out of you as your eyes fell on a good looking man lounging on the couch. He had a relaxed grin on his face as he told a story. You started to register that he was surrounded by girls, each of them hanging off of his every word.

You pursed your lips as jealousy bubbled up inside of you. You didn’t want to be too judgy but you weren’t going to be happy if your soulmate was a player. Then again he was just talking to them.

… or flirting with them, it seemed as he leaned in whispered something to the girl closest to him. You crossed your arms as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes landing on you and widening. He said something to the girls on the couch as he got up and made his way across the room to you. You were a little smug to see the pouts on their faces as he left them behind, even if the intensity of his gaze was making you blush.

You felt your cheeks heat up even more as one of his hands found your hip and he pressed you back a step or two until you were pressed against the wall. He rested his free hand on the wall beside your head and grinned.

“Well, hello angel,” he hummed. You could smell a hint of alcohol on his breath, but his words were steady and so were his movements so you knew he had to still be on his first drink.

“Hello,” you wished you had something wittier to say to him, but the way his eyes grazed over your body had your head spinning.

“How has it taken me so damn long to find you?” he said, a little more softly as he leaned in. You shyly turned your face to the side and he ended up pressing a kiss to your cheek instead.

“I guess it just takes a while, s-sometimes,” you mumbled.

He pulled back and gave you a curious look before smiling. “You know there’s a lot of space out back, if you want some air.”

A shy smile tugged at your lips. “That would be nice.”

He pulled you to his side and started to lead you out of the room as the girls on the couch pouted and whined his name. Jeonghan either ignored them or he didn’t notice as he led you outside to a quiet spot where you could sit with him.

Maybe you had judged him too quickly.

#Seventeen #seventeen imagines #Svt #svt imagines #jeonghan #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan #soulmate au #seventeen soulmate au #soulmate!seventeen #soulmate!svt #soulmate!jeonghan #is it fate #wait for it #only one story left to introduce #and i only have two parts left to write #i cant believe im almost done #oof imma get emotional

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dontmindthefangirling · 5 years

Text

Broken Nose {t.h.}

part 6

gif by @parkeret

Summary: You’ve just gotten a new job as an on-set medic for Spider-Man: Far From Home to be on stand by for any injuries that may occur during stunts. When the star of the movie, Tom Holland, breaks his nose from a particularly bad fall, you fix his broken nose but can he fix your broken heart?

Warnings: lots of angst, swearing, mentions of past abusive relationship

this is a short one omg im so sorry, the next ones will be longer

part 5 | series masterlist

“I have dreams too, you know!” you shouted, your hands going up in the air in exasperation. You knew it was impossible arguing with him, because talking to Will was like talking to a brick wall who only heard what he wanted to hear, but somehow he always managed to get under your skin and make your blood absolutely boil.

“I’m not moving to California,” you added. “I’m staying in New York.”

Will laughed bitterly. “Why? So you can fuck other guys while I’m away?”

“Why do you always resort to that!” you spat. “I am allowed to have guy friends that aren’t you!”

“Yeah cause you’re a fucking whore,” Will scoffed.

You clenched your jaw, and dug your nails into your palms to prevent yourself from clocking him across his smug, stupid face. You didn’t know why you were still together. You would break up if you could, but Will was a manipulative mastermind who always found a way to guilt you to stay. You wished you weren’t such an empath otherwise you would have left months ago.

“You’re coming with me to California and that’s that,” Will said, turning his back to you and walking to his living room. One thing you had been able to put off was moving in together, being your excuse was that his landlord didn’t allow dogs. Will was stupid enough to believe that, and his ego prevented him from moving in with you because in his mind, he had to be in control of everything.

“No I’m not,” you said, refusing to follow him. Will whipped his head around and narrowed his dark eyes at you.

“No is not a fucking option!” Will shouted. You hated when he raised his voice at you, but it had gotten to the point where it only fueled your anger.

“My job is here, Will!” you spat. “I’m not leaving it! Besides, I’m applying to NYU for medical school in a year!”

“You know they have medical schools in California right?” Will scoffed, and you swore you heard him call you a dumb bitch under his breath.

You didn’t even bother explaining your reasoning to him that you wanted to apply to the specific MD program that NYU had because you knew it would just go in one ear and out the other.

Besides, you were hoping that he would just fucking leave and you would be free of his manipulative ass.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve put up with you for this long.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re a piece of shit, Will!”

He had never laid a hand on you in the two and half years that you dated, but in that moment when he took a step towards you, his fists clenched at his sides, your heart actually missed a beat because the anger in his eyes made you almost think he would hit you.

But once again, he didn’t step another foot closer to you, just glaring daggers at you with the eyes that were once kind to you, a long long time ago.

It didn’t start like this. You had met Will in your second year of undergrad, and he was funny and sweet and he made you feel special. Your first year together was lovely, but it was like a switch went off in his head that told him he could finally be his true self once he had you caught in his trap. At that point, you were too deep in to notice it right away until you began to notice that Will was monitoring the amount of time you spent with your friends, how he began trash-talking James and saying he didn’t trust him, how he demanded that you spend every waking minute with him and no one else, not even your family.

The red flags were everywhere and they appeared slowly and once you noticed them all, you were in far too deep.

“We’re done,” you said. You had uttered those words millions of times to him, after every time he tried to control you in things like what you wore and who you hung out with. But every time he managed to guilt you into staying, saying he was all alone and had no one else but you.

It was all bullshit and you were done falling for it.

Will scoffed. “No we’re not.”

“Yes we are,” you spat. “I never want to see your fucking face again.”

You began to walk towards the door when Will grabbed your wrist, causing you to turn around and shove him away from you.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. “Ever again.”

“You’re an ungrateful bitch,” Will spat. “After everything I’ve done for you-”

“Everything you’ve done?” you laughed bitterly. “Like what? Tear down my self-esteem? Try to isolate me from everyone I care about? You’re a manipulative and abusive person, Will. And I never want to see you again.”

Will began going on about how you’d be back and all the same speeches you heard before, but you slammed the front door behind you and blocked and deleted his number, as well as all of his social media. You were done and for the first time in two years, you felt free.

You were free of Will for almost six months now, and you were finally starting to find out who you were again, without him controlling everything you did. You were trying to find who you were before you met him, and it was hard at first, but you were slowly making progress.

But then you met Tom.

And he was absolutely nothing like Will, in fact, he was the complete opposite. But it scared you to fall for someone again. You were terrified of getting hurt, terrified of misjudging someone.

Every fiber in your body told you that Tom wasn’t like Will, but that piece of anxiety that still shrouded your heart prevented you from listening to them.

But as soon as you were outside of Tom’s trailer, all of your emotions came flooding back and that’s how you ended up outside of James’s apartment door, a sobbing and shaking mess. You barely had the energy to knock on the door, and every time you closed your eyes you saw Tom’s kind eyes looking at you with such adoration you felt like you would melt under his gaze.

And then you ran out on him.

The door swung open, revealing James in a pair of black joggers and a gray t-shirt. As soon as he saw your composure, he ushered you inside, shutting the door behind you.

Your cheeks were stained with tears, red from crying, and your eyes stung with every blink and pain pierced your heart with every thought of Tom. You were gasping and you felt like you couldn’t breathe and you didn’t exactly know why you were such a mess, but you knew it had to do with Tom knocking a piece of the wall down that you had built around your heart.

James guided you over to the couch and had you sit down while he grabbed you a blanket and laid it over your legs. He didn’t say anything, just waiting for you to speak first, but he did wrap his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest while he ran a hand through your hair.

When you felt ready to talk, you sat up and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling harshly and staring at the ground.

“Want to tell me what happened?” James asked gently.

You inhaled sharply and kept your gaze locked on the floor.

“T-Tom...I...,” you started, closing your eyes as more tears silently fell from your eyes. “He...”

“Did you guys hook up or something?” James asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He knew you had feelings for the doe-eyed movie star because James could read you like a book. And he knew about your evening hang-outs with Tom and Tessa everyday after filming, so you knew he had put the dots together a long time ago.

“No,” you said shaking your head. “No.”

“So what happened?”

“We almost kissed,” you finally managed to choke out. James let out a breath through his nose and looked at his lap. He knew everything about Will and he knew how it had affected you and your trust in relationships.

“And let me guess, you got afraid?” James asked gently.

You nodded weakly. “I ran out on him.”

James sighed and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“It’s okay (Y/N),” he said gently. “If you’re not ready-”

“That’s the problem,” you said, leaning away from James so you could look at him. “Being with Tom...it just felt so natural and I almost forgot about everything else. But when we were that close and I realized just how much I liked him, I got scared.”

“Do you want to be with him?” James asked.

You looked at your lap while your cheeks heated up. Of course you wanted to, but would your heart let you?

“He’s an actor,” you whispered.

“And you’re a paramedic. I’m glad we’ve established your professions,” James snorted, earning a small smile from you.

“I mean, he’s famous,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“So what?” James said, shrugging his shoulders. “If he really likes you and you like him, why should that matter?”

You looked away from James and let out a deep breath. Your emotions were all over the place, and all you could think about was Tom’s hands on your waist and his breath on your face, and the way your noses bumped together.

“Look, (Y/N), I know you’re afraid of being hurt again,” James said, his voice gentle. “But I don’t think that should mean that you can’t ever find love again. Will was a piece of shit, and I’m so glad you’re not with him anymore, but think of it as a learning experience. Now you know what not to put up with.”

You rested your head on your cheek and let out a breath.

“But if you aren’t ready, then you aren’t ready. You know I’ll support you either way,” James added.

You looked at him and offered him a gentle smile. “I know.”

“Can I get you a tissue? You look like a snot monster.”

You laughed lightly. “Yes please.”

You almost contemplated calling in sick to work the next morning, but you needed the money so you dragged yourself out of bed and shuffled your way to the studio with James.

You were hoping to avoid Tom for the day because you weren’t ready to address the emotions that were bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know what you wanted yet, and you didn’t know exactly what to say to him after you ran out on him with no explanation and most likely hurting him in the process.

“If you’re not going to drink your coffee, I will,” James said, gesturing to your untouched coffee cup in front of you.

“Go for it,” you said, shoving it towards him.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” James asked, raising an eyebrow at you before sipping the coffee.

“What do you think?” you grumbled, glaring at him. James sighed and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay, (Y/N),” he said.

You wished you could believe him.

Suddenly, you heard a group of people approaching the area in which the medical tent was situated and your heart almost leaped into your throat at the sight of Tom at the front of the group. He was already in his Spider-Man costume and he was talking with Jake Gyllenhaal. He was turned away from you, and you suddenly felt sick to your stomach.

“I’ll be back,” you muttered to James before rushing to the bathroom before Tom even had the chance to look in your direction.

Tom told himself to avoid the medical tent for the rest of filming or at least until he felt like you hadn’t ripped his heart out. After you left in a hurry, Tom remained in the center of his trailer, wondering what he could have said or done that would have caused you to run away.

He spent the entire night thinking about it, thinking about the sudden look of fear you had in your eyes and how your fingers had been trembling against him. He couldn’t figure out why you were acting the way you were, and he was heartbroken to say the least.

However, when he was ushered through the set, he knew he was going to walk by you, and he tried distracting himself by talking with Jake, but that didn’t last long enough for him to miss you getting up from your seat and rushing away.

Tom’s eyes followed you as you disappeared into the bathroom, and he felt like his breath was caught in his throat.

“I’ll be back,” he said quickly to Jake before dispersing from the group. He began walking towards the bathroom, hoping to catch you on your way out, but James was suddenly standing in front of him.

“Dude, don’t,” James merely said. Tom furrowed his eyebrows at him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you know why-”

“Yeah,” James sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. “And as her best friend, I’m just going to tell you that she’s not ready.”

Tom stared at James, trying to read his hardened expression.

“I just need to know why she ran away,” Tom whispered, wishing his voice didn’t crack. James’s expression softened and he sighed.

“It’s really not my story to tell,” James said. “But just give her time.”

Tom wasn’t particularly happy with that answer, but he knew that James knew you better than anyone else, so he chewed on his bottom lip and nodded.

“Just...um, could you, uh, let her know that I’m here to talk if she needs to?” Tom asked.

James smiled gently and nodded. “Of course, man.”

“Thanks,” Tom said. He glanced to the bathroom door for a moment before turning on his heel and joining the group again, being whisked away for more filming.

“What did you tell him?” you asked, playing with your fingers nervously.

“I told him you need time,” James responded.

You nodded, staring at your chipped nail polish and inhaling deeply. So many emotions were running through your mind and a large part of you just wanted to talk to Tom, and the other part wanted to avoid him for a long time.

“I don’t know what I need,” you whispered.

“That means you need time,” James retorted.

“Yeah, I guess,” you sighed.

Tom knew that you weren’t going to show up later that day after most of the cast and crew had gone home, but he found himself sitting and waiting in his trailer anyways. He kept glancing out the shades in the window, hoping that you would come knock at the door any moment now, but as the clock ticked on, he knew you weren’t coming.

He was hoping that maybe you would want to talk to him, tell him what James couldn’t, and he could apologize if he had done anything to upset you. Tessa sat at his feet, playing with one of her toys, and Tom could only watch her, missing you and how you would play with her.

He had never felt this way about anyone before. The emotions he had developed for you had developed fast and he didn’t know how to handle them especially now that you weren’t speaking to him. Every time he closed his eyes he could see you E/C ones staring back at him, and he could feel your body close against his as your lips brushed together.

Every time his mind began to wander, he had to snap himself out of it because the reality was that you ran out on him and he didn’t know why. He didn’t know if it was because of him or because of something else, but all he knew was that he missed you.

Across the city, you sat in your apartment, staring at the TV screen but not absorbing any of the information because your mind was elsewhere. You felt so stupid for running out on Tom before explaining yourself, but you just reacted to your emotions so quickly.

You had to sit down and talk with him and tell him everything about Will and hopefully he would understand. Going the whole day without talking to him was driving you insane.

You sat up, now itching to get to the studio tomorrow to talk with him, but when you opened your phone, all that anxiousness disappeared into despair when you saw the E! News headline.

Tom Holland spotted with a mystery girl leaving a bar in New York City!

part 7

Taglist: @greenarrowhead // @likeit-or-leaveit // @badpvn // @ eternal-I-appel-du-vide // @thollandx // @aliceinwhateverland // @danicarosaline // @eye-of-the-owl // @binaruma // @wonders-of-the-multiverse // @fandomdarlings // @spideyyeet // @apseventy // @sidheag-the-witch // @mlt2000 // @lawrencekate // @hereiamhereigo// @ clockbobbler // @yourwonderbelle // @annoyingsibling // @jackiehollanderr // @spideylovin // @nerdypisces160 // @everythingaboutnothingsstuff // @yeahimcrying// @sunflowercandie // @ophcelia // @emmaelizabeth2014 // @gmzparkr // @l0ve-0f-my-life // @kaylathekittykat225 // @aestheticgaybish // @danicarosaline // @marvel-hollxnd // @hell-yeah-peter-parker // @clockblobber // @hereiamhereigo // @popluckbih // @solarspidey //

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #marvel #fanfic #fic #spider-man #spiderman

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yungfuckfacemcgee · 5 years

Text

After many many months I FINALLY finished this Westallen fanfic that has now morphed into a 74,500 word behemoth

It’s called Everything in Existence. It’s a no powers, meet-cute AU that is basically just the novelized movie I’m waiting for Netflix to cast Candice Patton in. Here is the first chapter (I’m gonna post it on AO3) I hope you like it because I like it and this is the first big, real-ish thing I’ve written and I am proud.

Chapter 1

“…so, I guess, what I’m trying to say is it’s not you, it’s me. And I know people say this all the time, but, I really hope we can stay friends.”

“Are you serious, Iris?”

Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have done this while they were lying in bed together after another night of sub-par sex. But Iris West couldn’t take it anymore: every second of their “relationship” felt like a knife scraping a dinner plate. At the time, she thought it made sense to finally agree to be exclusive with Scott after a month of casual post-work hookups. Their relationship made sense on paper. They were the two hot, young, Black reporters in the office. He was good looking, smart, nice, and he was almost as good at his job as she was at hers. It was logical. But the longer they stayed together, the clearer her image of Scott became. What she initially thought was kindness turned out to be charm; she could see it in the way he would suck up to their editors or all of his patronizing interactions with the new hires. On more than one occasion she caught him checking himself out in the mirror; looking back on it Scott never looked at her with the same appreciation. And she could’ve set all of that aside, she really could’ve, if he hadn’t fucked with her at work. He took her idea for a new feature to their misogynistic, asshole of a boss. Scott got his ticket to the office's inner circle and left Iris behind writing listicles with 21-year-old interns fresh out of undergrad.

He was staring at her expectantly, apparently waiting for an answer.

“Yeah I am, Scott,” she said. “This isn’t working for me anymore.”

“Wow” he scoffed, offended. He started getting out of bed and redressing, angrily pulling on his raw denim jeans.

“You know everyone at the office always said you were kind of a bitch but I saw past that.” “Excuse me?” Iris asked, her eyebrows shooting up in shock. Any semblance of Scott’s nice guy act evaporated as soon as his feet hit the floor. She sat up in her bed, watching as he collected the few belongings he had in her apartment, stuffing them into his monogrammed leather overnight bag. Even though they’d been together for nearly half a year Scott never left more than a stick of deodorant or an extra pair of socks at her place. Truthfully, Iris never wanted him to.

“Wasted all my time giving you this ‘exclusive’ shit,” he muttered to himself as he took his watch from the nightstand. “You’re not the only hot girl who wanted me, you know. I had so many opportunities, sweetheart. Okay? I could’ve been sleeping with white women.” Who even says that? “Get the fuck out of my apartment, Scott!” Iris yelled as he flung open her bedroom door. She got up to follow him through the living room, “and you know what? I take it back! I DON’T want to stay friends!” And with that she slammed the door.

“Morning sunshine.” “Fuck!” Iris grabbed her chest. She hadn’t noticed her roommate, Linda, sitting in the kitchen while she was chasing Scott out.

“So I take it you finally gave Scott ‘the talk’?” Linda asked over her morning paper.

The two girls had met Linda’s first night living in the city, through a mutual friend who invited a group of them out to a bar with fifty cent jello shots. Iris left early without saying goodbye, feeling a blackout coming on. At 4 a.m. a wasted Linda was pounding on her door, saying “I wanted to make sure you made it home” before pushing past her, into her shoebox of an apartment, throwing up blue into her toilet, and passing out on her bed. They’d been best friends ever since.

“Mmmhhhh,” Iris moaned in the affirmative as she flopped face first on to their old couch. “Sorry, honey. At least you don’t have to deal with that dickhead anymore. You know I never liked him.” For as long as they’d known each other, it felt as though Linda was constantly saying I told you so. It occasionally ignited standoffs that never lasted more than a couple days, and more often than not got resolved with apology tequila and kitchen karaoke.

Iris peeled herself off the couch and straightened out her disheveled hair.

“You’re right. He’s a dick. And I’m glad to be done with him.” She sat for a second, mulling it over before forcefully flopping back down. “But now I have to see him at work on Mondayyyyy. Lindaaaaa. What am I gonna do?” “Hon,” Linda said, sitting on the couch. Iris went boneless, half her body slid to the floor. “Iris, listen to me” Linda grabbed her by the shoulders, “you’re gonna go into your room. You’re gonna clean yourself up and get dressed.” Iris leaned into her friend, starting to feel comforted as Linda smoothed down her hair. “And then you and I are gonna go to trap-yoga.” “What?!” Iris pulled away to look at the traitor. “Exercise is not what I need right now, Lin! My heart is broken! I need to wallow and eat junk food and stay on the couch.” She shot puppy dog eyes at her friend. “No bitch. You didn’t even like Scott!” Linda exclaimed. Iris cringed at that, but she knew that Linda was right. Screaming at him now was the most emotion she ever felt in that relationship. Go figure. “Iris, you need to get up and move. You wasted five and a half months on that jerk for what? Some mediocre sex?”

“It wasn’t that bad” Iris said. “Girl. I share a wall with you. All I ever heard was Scott grunting and hyping himself up.” “Dude!”

“What was the longest it ever lasted? Five minutes?”

“I–” Iris started but shut her mouth, having to agree with Linda, and no longer feeling the need to defend Scott.

“That’s what I thought. So go get your little yoga pants on, we’re leaving in 20.”

——

Two hours later, Iris was splayed out on the floor of a dance studio in Midtown, trying to catch her breath while the rest of the class went on with their Saturdays. She tries to make it to the gym a couple times a week (if she were being honest with herself it was more like a couple times a month) but that was just absurd. She could barely touch her toes on a good day, how could she be expected to add dancing to that? At least the music was good.

“What…the…fuck” Iris panted to Linda as she came to sit beside her with two bottles of water and a towel. Linda, of course, had barely broken a sweat so the towel was for Iris.

“A couple times there Mari and I thought you were gonna throw up,” she replied, pulling Iris up into a sitting position.

Their mutual friend, Mariana taught the class. Mari (as her friends called her) was a curvy woman with a blonde afro. Part time trainer, part time back up dancer, she had aspirations of becoming the next Rosie Perez. Linda met her a while back taking one of her other dance/exercise classes and decided the three of them had to be friends. The decision was cemented the first time the trio went out and all ended up dancing on tables and laughing until they couldn’t breathe.

Mari finished talking to one of her clients (a middle aged white woman in a coordinated Lululemon outfit) with a fake smile that immediately dropped as she came to sit with the girls.

“Ay díos, this woman always wanting to talk to me about some new diet and her son’s gluten intolerance. Christ!” she sat with a huff. “Lin, you looked great. Iris…at least you didn’t throw up.” She flashed a sympathetic smile.

“Okay,” Linda said redirecting the conversation, “phase one of Mission: Iris Reclaims Her Time in which she sweats out her anger and does her annual workout—”

“Hey!”

“—complete. On to phase two: we’re all going out tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that guys.” It was only 2pm and Iris was already sweaty and exhausted, she was pretty much done for the day.

“Iris, mama, we’re taking you out!” Mari interrupted, in an aggressively friendly tone. “And not to one of our usual places, we’re getting on the train and we are going downtown–”

Iris let out a groan.

“ –and you have absolutely no say in the matter” Linda finished.

“But—” Iris tried.

“Dude, you need to go celebrate your freedom! It’s been half a year! Haven’t you already wasted enough of your time doing nothing?” Linda and Mari watched as she contemplated their words.

If it were anyone else Iris would have told them to fuck off and leave her alone, but these were her girls; she trusted their judgment the majority of the time. Besides she knew from experience that they wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Okay fine.” She gave in. “But you two are buying my drinks all night.”

“Yes!” Linda rejoiced, “This is going to be the best night ever!”

——

“This is the worst night ever” Linda sighed.

Linda and Iris met up with Mari at some swanky club on the Lower East Side after a pregame at their apartment. Apparently, Mari met a couple guys in line who gave her a few pulls from their flask. When they finally managed to get to the front she was a shade past too drunk, falling off her ridiculously tall heels she exclusively wore for clubbing. Iris and Linda loved the girl, but this wasn’t the first time (and it certainly wouldn’t be the last) that they would have to play party mom. They’d hold it against her but every time it happened she was genuinely remorseful — besides she did her fair share of emotionally/physically/spiritually-responsible friend duties so no one was in debt to anyone as far as they could see. They consoled Mari, assuring her that she hadn’t ruined the night, and put her in a cab across the bridge back to her roommate who, by this point, knew the drill.

It started to rain by the time they successfully got her in the car and tipped the driver extra to make sure she got home safely. Rather than waiting in line for another hour, the two decided to leave. They walked around the unfamiliar neighborhood, searching the block for someplace dry to figure out plan b. They happened upon a grimy, all-night pizza place first and made a break for it. Each ordered a slice — pepperoni for Iris, plain cheese for Linda — and they claimed a table by the window away from the groups of loud, underage college kids, completely soaked from the rain and obviously wasted on cheap liquor.

“Really, Lin, it’s fine. You guys still got me out of the house for the night” Iris tried to assure her friend that the outing wasn’t a total flop.

“No, it’s not fine. Look at us! We look hot! I’m not letting this go to waste.” An idea dawned on her face making Iris nervous. She abandoned her slice on its paper plate and reached into her bag. “Here.” Linda pulled two lollipops from her clutch. She offered one to Iris. “Lauren gave these to me last week. Welcome to phase 3 of Mission: Iris Reclaims Her Time, baby.”

Now, Linda and Iris weren’t stoners by any stretch of the imagination. But they were two young women living in a big city, paying rent that was way too high, working stressful jobs that paid them way too little, and taking anxiety inducing public transit every goddamn day. Once in a while booze just didn’t cut it.

“Weirdo, stoner Lauren who lives down the hall?” Iris asked, somewhat shocked though not entirely surprised. Lauren was an aloof, surfer-looking girl who lived in their building and who, against all logic, Linda had a huge crush on. Iris imagined that Lauren got lost on the way to the beach one day and wandered around until she somehow found herself living in the city, miles from the ocean and selling drugs out of a loft that her parents paid for. She had long, wavy hair the color of sand, and always greeted Iris with a zen smile.

“Yup,” Linda responded nonchalantly.

Iris took a lollipop from her “And why were you with weirdo stoner Lauren who lives down the hall?”

“Oh…you know…” Linda squirmed on the receiving end of Iris’ growing smirk and finally gave up trying to think up some half-assed excuse. “Just shut up and eat it.”

They unwrapped their edibles and held them in a toast. “Cheers,” Linda began, “to my best friend who finally vagged up…” Iris cringed as Linda only got louder. “…who finally VAGGED up, dumped that loser Scott and got her life back. In Beyoncé’s name we pray, Amen.”

“Amen,” Iris agreed. “How long until these kick in anyway?” “A couple of hours I think.” The college kids were getting rowdier. They were like drunk toddlers – screaming, laughing, falling down and blurting out the most random things. Iris watched them, jealous of the hangover free mornings they would have the next day, and suddenly felt too old to stay any longer. “Hey, why don’t we check out that bar across the street? I’ve seen three groups of hot guys go in since we got here.” “I like where your head’s at, West! Let’s go.” Linda grabbed Iris’ hand, forgetting their half-eaten slices, and pulled her across the street, nearly getting them killed by an oncoming cab.

——

Linda was off with a tall finance bro with a cute butt and Iris was figuring out a way to get out of a dry conversation with some guy about the app he developed. Every time she tried to interrupt him, he cut her off with a new question that he would just answer for himself.

“Well, this has been really gre– ”, Iris tried. Again.

“What’s your favorite TV show? Mine’s definitely Narcos, I just think the story structure is so sophisticated, you know? It really transcends language, I think, you know? I just feel like…”

Iris zoned out. She started looking around the bar for Linda to shoot her the please come pretend to be my overprotective girlfriend so we can go home look, but she couldn’t find her in the crowd of twenty somethings. As she looked around she took in the atmosphere of the place. She noticed how the bar was decorated like a library with beat-up leather arm chairs scattered around, an illuminated globe sitting on the floor by the bathrooms, and a bookshelf on the wall behind the counter — half-filled with drinks, half-filled with actual books. The place was crowed, but no more so than any other Lower East Side bar on a Saturday night.

She started to turn her attention back to app boy, Tom? Or maybe he said Todd? Iris had no idea what he was talking about at this point. She was about to try, yet again, to escape when the bartender leaned over.

“Excuse me, miss?” She looked up at him. He was a white guy with floppy brown hair and a little bit of scruff. He had on a worn-out flannel over a Led Zeppelin t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows like it was 2010.

“Miss?” He said again. She met his eyes and focused on what he was saying. “Hi, sorry to interrupt, but there was a problem with your card. I need you to come to the register at the other end of the bar so we can sort it out.”

“My card?” She asked confused, “but I didn’t…” Iris trailed off as she saw him widening his eyes at her, looking between her and Tom/dd.

“Oh! Right! My card!” She turned back towards Mr. Talksalot, “I’m so sorry, but I have to go deal with this. Have a lovely night.” “I can wait for you to figure it out.”

“Don’t!” Iris yelled a little too eagerly over her shoulder as she followed her flannel-ed white knight to the opposite end of the bar. He was lean, with broad shoulders, like a swimmer.

“That guy wouldn’t stop talking! Why do guys like that always think they’re the most interesting thing in the world? Thank you so much…” Iris trailed off, realizing she didn’t know his name.

“Barry. And because guys like that are douchebags. So, what are you drinking tonight…?”

“Iris, I’m Iris. Um, whiskey, neat.” She answered. He pushed at his sleeves even though they hadn’t slipped from their fixed position on his forearms.

“Iris the badass,” he said with smirk. Her stomach fluttered at that. She noticed him pause for a second, his eyes fixed to the counter.

“Um,” he faltered then regained his composure, taking out a tumbler and filling it with the well drink, “yeah I saw you get that look on your face.” He slid Iris her glass.

“What look?” she asked taking a sip.

“That look. The one that says this guy can’t take a hint and I can’t find my friends anywhere.” He smiled a little and she looked down at the drink, her fingers fiddling with the glass.

“So you were watching me?” She hadn’t intended for it to sound that flirty but once it was out of her mouth she decided to roll with it.

The question clearly surprised him. He looked at her, flustered for a moment, before shaking it off and clearing discarded pint glasses off the bar. She tried not to let that hurt her pride too much and finished off her drink.

Barry turned back to her, looking like he was about to say something until he noticed her empty glass.

“Wow.” He stated. “Rough night?”

Starting to loosen up and feel that familiar warm buzz that came with finishing her second drink she responded, “I’m supposed to be here with my best friend celebrating, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh, congratulations. What are we celebrating?” he asked, leaning on the bar. His arms looked strong.

“We are celebrating my break-up!” She announced.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Iris,” he said as he stood up straighter. Her name sounded good coming out of his mouth.

“You’re sweet, but really I’m okay. He was just some asshole I work with.” A stupid, vain, asshole who ironed his jeans. Who does that?

“Where do you work?”

“I write for that website Snub,” she said begrudgingly. Admittedly it wasn’t a bad job, but Iris started there so young — it was the only real, paid writing gig she ever had. After Scott screwed her over she started thinking maybe she’d been there a few years too long.

“Very cool.” Barry said. She couldn’t gauge by his reaction if he knew what Snub was. She kind of hoped he didn’t. “Wait a second,” he bent down and brought up two

glasses, “if we’re going to make this a proper celebration we need shots.”

At the mention of shots Iris raised her hands in protest.

“That sounds nice, but my wallet can’t handle $17 drinks.” Living in the city Iris and Linda figured they could either order shots when they went out or pay their rent, but not both. A couple times the drinks won.

“No worries,” he told her as he poured the tequila and slid a glass to her, “these are on the house.”

“That’s really, really nice, but I can’t let you do that. Wouldn’t your manager or the owner or whatever be pissed?”

“Nah. I mean he’s a major asshole but I don’t think he’d mind giving some congratulatory shots to a beautiful woman.”

Normally a line like that from some dude in a bar would come off as skeezy and insincere and Iris would blow him off. But coming from him it felt genuine, like he honestly thought she was beautiful. For the first time in a while Iris wasn’t quite sure how to react.

“Ehrm,” he interrupted her stupor, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand and raising his glass with the other. “Here’s to… here’s to…”

“The future?” She offered questioningly.

“Yeah. Here’s to the future. May this be the first drink of many towards forgetting your ex.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

They clinked their glasses and knocked back their shots, Barry wincing after his while desperately reaching for a slice of lime.

“Punk,” Iris teased.

He smiled back at her and for a moment the din of the crowed bar faded to the background. She looked at his face, dusted with freckles. Only his left cheek had a dimple which she had the strange urge to poke.

“There you are!” She felt Linda’s hand on her shoulder. Just like that her moment with the cute bartender was over and she was thrown back into reality.

“I’ve been looking for you forever!” Linda shouted a bit too loudly to Iris.

“Yeah right, Lin!” She shouted back. She turned to introduce her new friend but he was already gone. For a second she wondered if it was even real. She couldn’t lie, she was a little disappointed.

“How are you feeling?” Linda grabbed Iris’ face and studied her eyes. “Has it hit you yet?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied through her smushed cheeks. Truth be told Iris had completely forgotten they took edibles earlier, otherwise she definitely would have turned down those shots.

“How ‘bout you?” She asked, though as Linda began to separate the individual strands of Iris’ hair she was certain of the answer.

“Alright, pretty girl, time to go home.”

“Whattt, noooooo. I feel great, Iris. Have I ever told you how soft your hair is, dude?”

“Okay let’s go.” Iris responded.

She thought about leaving her number for Barry as she closed out her tab but then Linda started to touch other people’s hair so she rushed to get her out of there.

Just as Iris began to think her’s must have been a dud, the high hit her. It was like being frozen in a giant jello mold; it seemed like the entire world slowed down while her brain raced at a million miles a minute. One second she was washing her face and the next she was thinking about how the faucet was like a teeny tiny waterfall, making her feel like a giant. The minute a 5’4” girl starts calling herself a giant, it’s a wrap.

She fell asleep that night feeling like a rowboat on the ocean caught in a whirlpool. She dreamt vividly of pepperoni pizza and bartenders with green eyes and floppy hair.

——

The next morning Iris woke up in Linda’s bed, the TV still on, reheated Chinese leftovers, and, now, very melted ice cream surrounding them. She grabbed her phone from the night stand, checking the time and making sure she didn’t send any regrettable texts — as she’d been known to do on more than one occasion. She saw a text from Mari:

Mari 9:43am

> Sorry I ruined the mission :(

> I don’t know what happened! Those guys were really hot!

> AND THEY WERE DOMINICAN. You KNOW I don’t act right around Dominican men!!

> Buy you and sleeping beauty brunch to make it up???

Iris 10:46am

> You didn’t ruin anything! I’m just happy you got home safe

> Girl you were MESSED UP

>But I’ll never say no to free brunch. Let me try to wake up the monster give me an hour

She put her phone aside and rolled over to face Linda who had a puddle of drool on her pillow.

“Gross,” Iris whispered. She cleared her throat, “wakey, wakey”. She started gently poking Linda’s face.

“Ughhhh,” Linda groaned as she came to, “What?”

“It’s almost 11 and Mari’s buying us brunch. Time to get up.”

“Five more minutes, mom,” Linda bargained.

“Sorry, kiddo, but the bottomless mimosas are calling your name. Listen: ‘Lindaaa, Lindaa, come drink us Lindaaa’,” Iris whispered into her friend’s face as Linda half-heartedly attempted to swat her away.

“Coffeee,” Linda whined as Iris got out of bed and began to clear away the remnants of their late-night feast.

“There’s coffee at brunch, so get your ass up,” she emphasized as she smacked her through the thick layer of blankets, “and let’s go!”

“You’re so mean to me!” Linda called out as Iris left her bedroom, but she could hear the covers drawing back and Linda’s feet hitting the wood floor.

As she was getting ready she thought about the bartender again. Iris thought about his stupid brown hair and, really, who has that many freckles? He was pretty cute and he made her laugh. He was definitely flirting with her, right? Or had she just projected on to him in her cross-faded haze? And why was she still thinking about him? She usually didn’t get hung up on pale white guys, especially ones that looked like they were in Mumford & Sons. She shook it off, telling herself to forget about Barry, and that she’d probably never see him again.

——

They met at their secret Sunday brunch spot, the only place without a line out the door. To the average person it was a nondescript, touristy diner, but Jitters had the best bottomless brunch, the best coffee, and, not to mention, the best prices in the entire city. They met there whenever they needed to catch up or when they needed the best hangover breakfast any of them had ever had.

They slid into their usual booth towards the back. Mari immediately began rattling off her apologies while Linda, sunglasses still on, laid her head on the table until their coffee cups were filled. After Iris assured Mari no one was upset, and Linda had two cups of coffee, they filled the others in on their nights.

Mari talked about her Dominicans who gave her a flask of rum. Linda reported back on her finance bro. It turns out while Iris was marooned with Tom/Todd (“Can we just call him T Money”, Linda offered), Linda was making out with Bro, getting familiar with his butt, until they got into a fight about fetishizing Asian women.

“And then he said he’d been waiting for a hot Asian chick like me to show up the entire night.”

“Gross,” “Yikes,” Iris and Mari said simultaneously.

“Then he had the audacity to say I was being too sensitive when I called him on it,” Linda spat out with disgust, then immediately clutched her head with a wince at her volume.

“That motherfucker,” Mari responded, pounding her balled fist on the table.

“Why the hell do people think that’s okay? Like, seriously, don’t they see how patronizing it is?” Iris said.

“Exactly! So I spilled the rest of the drink he bought in his lap before I found our girl sitting alone at the bar.”

“Alone?” Mari asked, turning her attention from Linda to Iris.

“Actually, the bartender kind of saved me from the dude who wouldn’t let me leave.”

Mari and Linda exchanged a brief look before turning their attention to Iris with matching smirks on their faces.

“What!?” Iris asked from behind her coffee mug.

“Would this bartender happen to be good looking?” Linda asked while lightly nudging her arm.

Iris looked down at her eggs, pushing them around with her fork.

“I mean, he wasn’t ugly.”

“Oooh, girl. Did you guys talk?” Mari asked.

“I thanked him for getting me away from–“

“–T money,” Mari interrupted.

“…from T money…and then I told him I was there with Linda celebrating a break-up and he kinda bought me a drink.”

Mari and Linda looked at each other in disbelief.

“BIIIITTTTTCCCCHHHHHH!” A startled busboy turned around at Linda’s deep exclamation.

“Oh my god, Linda there are children here.”

“That’s not my problem. You’re telling me you sat here and listened to me whine about some racist asshole and you weren’t even going to mention this fucking superhero you met last night?” Linda was practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

“I don’t know about superhero, he was just a good dude.”

“What’s the difference, babe?” Mari chimed in.

“Either way, we didn’t exchange numbers and I doubt I’ll see him again.”

“Wait, what was the name of the bar you guys ended up at?” Mari asked.

“Um…” Iris said.

“Dude I couldn’t even remember my name this morning” Linda added.

“Christ.”

“Well, there wasn’t a lot of time to notice with Linda almost getting us killed crossing the street!” Iris said.

“What!?” Mari asked.

“Are we alive? Yes. So everything’s fine and Iris is being dramatic.”

“Mhmm,” Iris rolled her eyes at Linda.

They finished their food and eventually reached the bottom of those mimosas. After a short yet loud argument, Iris and Linda convinced Mari to let them pay their parts of the check. When Iris went into her wallet to get her card she realized it was missing.

“Fuck me,” she exclaimed, exasperated.

“Language, dear!” Linda joked. “What’s wrong?”

“My credit card’s gone!”

“Where was the last place you used it? Retrace your steps,” Mari offered.

“Well, Lin and I took the train back, and I used cash for the pizza,” Iris rattled off.

“Wait, didn’t we use your card to open the tab when we got to the bar?” Linda asked, hardly trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.

“We don’t even know the name of the bar!” Iris protested.

“It’s Sunday, we have all day to retrace our steps and reunite you with your hero. Commencing phase 4 of Mission: Iris Gets Rebound Dick.”

“What happened to Iris Reclaims Her Time?”

“Plans change, just go with it,” Mari said, the two of them already rushing out the door.

Iris rolled her eyes but if she had to be honest with herself, she couldn’t deny that she was a little bit thrilled at the idea of seeing Barry again.

“Wait you guys! We still have to pay!” Iris yelled after them.

#the flash #westallen #westallen fanfic #barry allen #iris west #be gentle with her because I love her

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

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(No triggers here, just two men being hideously awkward. It’s the return of Holland Vosijk, Grad Student and Kell Maresh, Undergrad!)

Holland picked the location this time, but Kell did his research, and he had a small wrapped box sitting in his lap to prove it. Winter break had been too busy for the two of them to really see each other, and when he’d texted Holland to ask if he wanted to meet up somewhere, the answer had come back in less than seven minutes.

That was even faster than Luc answered Rhy, which Kell might have been smug about if he didn’t know that that was mostly because Luc literally never knew where his phone was and half the time Delilah Bard had it for some reason that no one ever seemed able to explain.

"This is the dorkiest thing you've ever done," Rhy said as they pulled up in front of Joe’s, the combination used bookstore/bar/coffeeshop Holland picked for tonight. Kell could have driven himself, of course, but Rhy had insisted on bringing him, and he didn’t put up much of a fight.

He and Rhy had done almost everything together their entire lives, ever since he’d come home the first day still wearing the awful too-big Day-Glo shirt and threadbare shorts from the foster home. Ever since, it had always been the two of them, everywhere they went.

Well, except for school, where Rhy went to the priciest prep school in the state and Kell was tutored at home, alone. Except for Rhy being informed he would be majoring in business administration and doing an internship at Maresh Corp, grooming him to take over when Maxim retired, while Kell could choose his own major and career as long as he agreed (Maxim made him sign a contract) to work for Rhy if he ever asked him to, no questions asked, drop everything he wants and is and exist for Rhy instead.

Except for Rhy being Rhy Maresh, heir to the largest privately-owned pharmaceutical company in the United States and subject of several magazine articles all about his bright future, and Kell being a publicity stunt with a pulse.

Why had he picked up the phone when Emira called earlier? It always ruined his day, but he never, ever let her go to voicemail, and he would never understand why he kept answering her calls.

"You're scowling again," Rhy said, a little gently. "Are you thinking about Mom and Dad? You always do that face when you think about them. Look, fuck ‘em. Calm your face. You’re on a date."

"Just thinking," Kell said, tightening his grip on the box. It was wrapped in plain sky blue paper with a perfectly-tied bow made from a sheer white ribbon. Kell had no idea how to tie a bow or even wrap presents; Rhy had turned out to be an expert at it, just like he was an expert at everything else, and had done it for him.

"Well, stop thinking and start enjoying your date. Seriously, I can't believe you did this. It was such a dorky idea."

If Rhy wanted to drive him to meet Holland (with the understanding he would absolutely not need a ride home), he didn't mind. They'd barely seen each other all week, too busy with classes since they'd come back from break, and Kell hadn't missed that Rhy had taken the long way here tonight, to buy them a few more minutes of time to hang out.

Rhy had insisted on overseeing his outfit this time, too. Joe's was a nicer place than anywhere else they'd met so far, and Kell hadn't even fought much about that . Kell shifted around in his seat, uncomfortable in the new black pants Rhy had bought him, the dark blue button-up. Their compromise was his shoes, the usual beat-up tennis shoes he wore everywhere he went, and his shirt - tonight, peeking through the button-up (he’d left four buttons open on purpose), he was wearing a Joy Division shirt, which Rhy informed him no one would recognize, and he had informed him right back that he didn’t care.

"He and I didn't do Christmas presents, I didn't... I don't know if he even does Christmas, I never thought to ask. And besides that, you're always telling me Holland and I are both dorks, so-"

"No," Rhy said smoothly. "I'm always calling you nerds. There's a difference." He leaned over, giving Kell a kind of one-armed hug, fiercely tight, then pulling back to give him one more inspection. "I'm going out with Luc tonight. You know the drill; call if you need me, otherwise I'll see you when I see you. Going back to our place after by yourself or together? Should I go to Luc's?"

Kell smiled, nervously. "Depends on if he likes what's in the box."

"Well, it's, as I said, the dorkiest thing you've ever done. Based on how things have gone so far, I can only imagine he'll love it. When you told me you wanted to get him a present I was really worried you meant, like, a fucking mixtape with your shitty music on it.”

“My music isn’t shitty! Holland likes it. ”

“No, Holland likes you. He listens to fucking death metal, Kell. He’s not into your sad bastard shit.”

“He can like both.”

"Look, I'll tell Luc I'm going home with him. Should I tell him you said hey?"

"Tell him I said he can go fuck himself, and I didn't appreciate him using my shampoo."

"Yeah, no, I didn't like that, either." Rhy wrinkled his nose. "It's really weird when your boyfriend comes into your room smelling like your brother."

"Yeah. So tell him to go fuck himself."

"Absolutely not," Rhy said, with his bright shining smile. "That's my job. Now go on in, he's probably already here."

"We said we'd meet at 8:00, it's only 7:50 now."

"Yeah, but he thinks you're the shit. He's probably already here so he gets to see you walk in."

It was Kell's turn to wrinkle his nose. "I don’t think so.”

"Kell. Discover some self-confidence inside that endless well of anxiety you carry around everywhere. He likes your weird hair-"

"Hey, I can't help my hair!"

"You could if you ever, literally ever, tried. He likes your weird clothes-"

"You picked these out!"

"Ugh, I know, and watch him hate your outfit for the first time when it's actually decent for once. He likes all your weird you-ness, and you should trust that for once." Rhy sighed. "You never believe anyone can really like you, do you know that? You think you don’t deserve it, that we’re lying to you."

“Do I?”

“Yes.” Rhy looks sad, for a second, and Rhy never looks sad. Then he brightens, and waves Kell away. "Go inside. I'll see you tomorrow, or the next day."

Rhy drives away as soon as he steps out, the box clutched in his hands. Joe's takes up the entire inside of a small brick building just outside of downtown, and he opens the wooden door with some effort, the cold winter wind trying to push it closed again. A blast of heat hits him in the face as he enters, bookshelves on either side of him.

There are books everywhere.

The shelves line the walls, two stories of bookshelves, along with winding metal stairs to little half-floors, a balcony that lets you look right down with decorative iron railings all along it bent into roses, vines, and flowers. There are shelves turning every inch of floor space into narrow little paths, with open spots for couches, tables, and armchairs.

Standing at the bar, directly in front of him, is Holland Vosijk, who of course looks absolutely goddamn amazing and all he's wearing is a black sweater and dark jeans and his boots, those same boots, the boots Kell has dreams about. He’s got a five o’clock shadow and Kell has a sudden, wildly irrational urge to just walk up and touch it.

“Hey.” (click here to read the rest!)

#writersmonth2019 #writer's month 2019 #prompt: feelings #day 13: feelings #wm: day 13 #fanfiction #fanfic #modern au #kell maresh #Holland vosijk #Holland x kell #Holland x happiness #adsom #shades of magic #fandom: shades of magic

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sapphiresea · 5 years

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ECCC – The Wayhaught Experience

Hey guys! So a couple people asked that I write about my experience at Emerald City Comic Con, and I did! It’s a bit long, so it’s below a cut because I had a lot to say, but I also trimmed it down a bit for better fit. (Pictures included.)

Now, let me start by saying my plan for the weekend was really simple. I was getting Dom and Kat to each sign my group photo from last year, and on top of that, I was getting another autograph from Dom to use as my tattoo – asking her specifically to write “I’m here and I stay” for me. Then, I was going to get a selfie with each and a duo photo op. Yeah. Let’s not talk about how much extra money I dropped because I decided they were too amazing and wanted to capitalize on this convention as much as possible. But also, I definitely do not regret it.

So once I got my ticket, I headed straight to the building where they had autographs, photo ops, and main stage panels. Although her line was longer, I decided to see Dom first, then Kat, during their first autograph session of the con.

I wasn’t too far back in Dom’s line, which was cool, and it felt pretty fast to get to see her, even though she was chatting with everyone. Two people in front of me were trying to get a selfie and Dom was holding out the camera trying to position it so they were all in frame and it looked like a major struggle bus for someone short, so I offered to help. She immediately thrust the phone at me and very politely agreed and thanked me. So when I got to the front, she was like, “Hello again!”

She was confused by the instruction of her manager for what I wanted for the tattoo, but as soon as I said it, she knew immediately what I meant. She pulled a multicolor pen from her fanny pack, clicked the blue and said she would write it a couple of times to make sure I had what I wanted. The second time was perfect, though. I told her that last summer had been particularly hard and that I had lost a lot of people I cared about, and that Jolene had really helped me to get through some of those nights, and got me to five years clean (which received a “wow” from her). I said that listening to her talk about anxiety in the Black Badge podcast had very much helped inspire me to send in my grad school applications and that I had just been accepted into all the schools to which I applied, and she was really impressed. I can’t remember exactly what she said, but I do remember her saying, “Isn’t it amazing? You’re so afraid of doing something and there’s no reason for it! You got into every school!” She asked where I was planning to go, so I told her I picked York University in Toronto and she said that was awesome and “right around the corner from Kat!” She also asked what I was studying, so I told her quant psych/statistics, and I don’t think she connected as much with that, but she was still very sweet about it. I thanked her and got a really cute selfie before moving on to meet with Kat.

Kat was a completely different energy altogether! Dom was very mellow and sweet, like she really lives up to that hippie vibe, but Kat was much more intense, full eye contact, leaning forward, asking a bunch of questions.

I got up to her pretty quickly, as the lines weren’t long so early on Friday. I was having her sign my group photo from last year’s Calgary Comic Expo and she recognized it immediately and asked if that’s where I’m from. She was very excited when I said, “yes.” I said I had just flown in that morning before coming and that I was living off about 45 minutes of sleep. She was like, “Oh, so you’re here, but you’re like, I’M HERE BUT I’M A LITTLE BIT CRAZY!?” Which…yeah, pretty much!

I told her I was excited just to be there, though, because the trip was a graduation present and a celebration because I got into every grad school to which I applied. She was stunned and congratulated me and I replied that it was really cool because it was a highly competitive program and I didn’t think I would get in at all. She asked what I study and I told her quant psych, and that there’s only four schools in Canada that have that program and most only have a couple spots each per year. Her eyes went huge and she congratulated me again. She said she was sure I’d make the right choice of where to go, and when I said I had just accepted the offer from York, she asked if I meant the one in Toronto and was stoked when I said “yes.” She told me York was an amazing school and I would absolutely love it. She added that she had considered York for undergrad because they had a theater program there, and then had almost gone there for an MBA when she didn’t think acting would work out. I told her my best friend had just gotten her MBA from there and she was like, “See!? It’s an amazing school!” and started talking up Toronto and how much I would love it. That made me pretty jazzed, really. We actually ended up talking much more than I thought before taking two selfies (they’re pretty similar, so I only included my favorite) and I had to run for a photo op unrelated to Wynonna Earp.

Right, so…Here is where the impulsivity of con life kicked in. And let me start this by saying: I did a great job at not blowing a ton of money on impulse buys for stuff. So what I spent here was almost kinda-sorta balanced, maybe? Don’t overthink it. I bought individual photo ops for Dom on Friday and Kat on Sunday.

I met this guy, David, in line for Dom’s photos, and we were chatting the whole time. He was really fun, and we ended up hanging out after. Anyway, it came up that I didn’t have a ticket for Saturday’s show and his son wasn’t going to be using his. He offered to let me buy it off of him and was able to get it for me before the end of the day! Amazing. And as it turned out, Saturday was an incredible day, as well, so I am immensely grateful that I didn’t end up missing it.

Here’s my photo op individual with Dominique. We don’t get a lot of chance to really talk during photo ops, but of course I asked for my usual funny faces, and when we were done, she joked that she’s certain that it was going to turn out really sexy. She was right.

I changed my Sunday photo ops with Kat to be Saturday photo ops. I had chosen to wear a jacket I found a few months ago that was the same Waverly wore in season 2, and when I walked in, Kat exclaimed, “That looks familiar! Was it on the show?” I replied, “Yeah! Waverly had it.” And she was like, “Oh, Waverly had it! I remember that.”

I brought along fake moustaches to go along with her #SolidarityInStaches posts, and I didn’t even have to ask before she was like, “Can I pick whichever one?” Of course, yes, and she took the pink one. I picked a curly black one and pocketed the rest. She peeled off the sticker back to stick it to her face and gave a hilariously serious pose, while I just held mine up. As I left, she asked if she could keep it, and I said, “Definitely!”

I met up with my friend, Carole, after the live stage interview, and she was about to go see Dom and Kat again and in case no one’s picked up on a pattern yet, I’m weak, so I was like, “Cool, I’ll go have them sign my individual photo ops!” Plus, Kat was selling that photo of her and Bernie that was donating all of the proceeds went to Soi Dog, which is a great organization, so I decided to get an autograph for my best friend, who I got into Earper life a few months ago, who loves Kat.

This time, I saw Kat first, and I told her all about the friend she was signing for, because she recognized immediately that my name was not ‘Catherine.’ I told her I had tried for ages to get my friend into it and lure her in with great representation and storylines and humor… Finally I remembered a very important fact about my friend: her weakness is hot redheads. So I texted her a photo of Nicole and said, “Did I mention there’s a hot redhead lesbian?” and she immediately jumped at it. Kat thought that was hilarious and said my friend sounds awesome.

Since she was still signing, I spoke with her a bit about Pooched and she was so excited that I had watched the trailer and the live stream and enjoyed it. You can really tell how passionate she is about that project, and honestly guys, if you haven’t yet, you definitely should watch. I joked that my friends and I don’t have dogs, but we do treat our cats like that. She asked if my friends had ever thrown a birthday party for their cats and I told her I have one friend who did. I added that we’re honors students, which means we present almost every week in class and she will work her cat into every presentation. Sometimes it’s really creative. That really amused her.

She also mentioned that she loved the moustache photo we had taken and that she had kept the pink moustache and was planning to take a picture with it later. I have no idea if she really will or if she’s lost it or anything, but I was just happy that she enjoyed it! I told her I had found a box of fake moustaches randomly in my room and she was like, “Do you know why you had them?” and I said, “I just know my mom bought them for me years ago and they were just sitting there until you started your moustache thing!” She said it was meant to be, or something like that.

Dom’s table was completely empty when I was done with Kat, so I hopped right over there. As I was paying for autographs, she noticed immediately the outfit I was wearing and exclaimed, “You’re wearing the Waverly shirt!” I replied that I had thrifted it, too, which she thought was great. As she started to sign, I told her my name is Steph because she hadn’t had it written down yet, and the volunteer asked if it was a P-H or F-F and I said, P-H, which prompted Dom to sing the spelling of my name in a cute little tune of S-T-E-P-H. It was really adorable.

I asked if it was strange coming back to North America after so long in Brazil, and she said it was, especially since she had been in the amazon with tribes and small towns, which was extremely different from anything like this, but that it was nice to be back, too. She talked a little about the importance of travel, and that she would really recommend seeing Brazil, because it’s a whole other viewpoint and understanding of ways of doing things.

We started talking a bit about Start the Wave, and I asked about a post she made awhile back about being a no-waste traveler, since I find when I travel is when I become the most wasteful. She gave a few suggestions, like bringing your own bamboo utensils, water bottles, cups, etc. Apparently she had a whole other bag with “all that shit” which was a pain in the butt, but ultimately worthwhile. She said that she found you have to tell people right off the bat that you have your own things, so they won’t give you cups or straws or anything that will be wasted because you’re not using them. We also lamented the North American reliance on plastic water bottles a bit when I mentioned that, from how I had grown up, I used to rely almost entirely on bottled water until I switched to a good water bottle, and that my parents still just keep loads of bottled water in their fridge. She said her family does the same thing and it kind of drives her crazy when she opens the door and finds a whole bunch of bottled water.

I saw that some other people were coming and it was toward the end of the day, too, so I said it was great chatting with her and hopped off.

Sunday, I arrived extremely early for the Wayhaught panel to get good seats, which meant sitting through hours of 80′s music and the Stranger Things panel which came before, but that was actually pretty fun.

I wasn’t initially planning to ask a question, but I had finally come up with something funny that they’d never heard before, and I was like, screw it, and went up. I was the first person in line on the right side, so I was the second to ask a question. I just realized watching the video back that Dom waved at me and said, “Hi Stephanie,” in her sweet little British voice before I even introduced myself, so apparently she remembered and recognized me!? That’s actually really cool and I’m still trying to recover from it. I was super nervous, but they were really funny with their answers and I loved Dom’s fascination with the show. It was such a great atmosphere in there, and so much fun. It was really a bummer when the whole thing was over.

The next thing on my agenda was about an hour later for the duo photo ops. Side note: right before me, someone was doing a photo op with a lightsaber and Kat was playing with it. She was excited as heck that it made noises when she moved it.

I walked in and Kat’s eyes locked on my sweater before she noticed my face. My sweater was an oversized York University shirt, so she exclaimed, “Oh my god, are you Canadian!?” And then she looked up and before I could reply, about a split second later, she mentally face-palmed and was like, “I’m so sorry! We had a whole conversation about this! You’re going to York for grad school! I remember!” I told her it was alright, I wasn’t offended or anything, but she insisted she remembered. So that was pretty nice. Although I normally do fun photo ops, I asked if we could just do a group hug, and they were like, “Of course!” and pulled me in for one.

I’m not even going to pretend like I hadn’t already decided to go back for one last autograph session, but listen. I wasn’t the only one. The girls in line with me also went to every autograph session and they go to every convention with Dom and Kat, so I figured it’s fine. Plus, they were always really happy to see us. I will say, those line ups were really fun. Earpers really know how to make a line a good experience. And Dom’s line was long, so that was a very good thing.

My last meeting with Kat began with another apology for her question during the photo ops. Before I could even put down the picture I wanted her to sign, she looked me right in the eye and said, “I am so sorry, Steph! I do remember we had a whole conversation about York and grad school.” I replied that it’s perfectly okay and that honestly, I didn’t expect her to remember because I know she had met so many people over the weekend that I wouldn’t have been offended if she didn’t. She apologized and insisted again that she absolutely did (and given that she also addressed me by name multiple times without seeing it written down anywhere, I definitely believe her). It was really nice, though, even if it wasn’t necessary!

This was my moment to be a sap, though, and I told her that, although I’m sure she’s heard it a million times, it was really awesome to finally see a lesbian who’s alive and whose whole story doesn’t revolve around coming out and dealing with being gay as if it were the worst thing in the world or some obstacle to overcome or something, because it feels as if that’s all I’ve gotten to see. I told her that I’m only slightly younger than her (and then she asked my birthday, but I’m not sure why) and that it felt like my whole life I hadn’t really gotten to see representation like that. The first time I even heard the word ‘lesbian’ was as a derogatory term when Ellen Degeneres came out, and I was too young to even know what it meant.

She was so kind and listened to every word, and it was really nice. It also spurred a conversation about Ellen, who she exclaimed her love for (we all know, Kat; we all know). We talked about her a bit and I mentioned that I’m also a big fan of Portia de Rossi and she said she’s really great, too, so I asked if she had ever read her book. She answered that she hadn’t and said she would have to add it to her list. I told her it’s about Portia’s eating disorder and her experience coming out as a lesbian, so if she’s in a dark place or just wants something light and fluffy, maybe skip to the epilogue. She seemed really interested in it, though, and asked the title. When I told her, she replied, “Wow, that’s beautiful! I am definitely going to take your recommendation and check it out!” We then took the following selfie. I gave her the direction to do wide-eyed, open-mouthed excitement, and she was like, “Of course!” But you judge if that’s the look she actually made. I love them, though.

From there, it was on to Dom’s line, which, like I said was long. I got into it more than an hour before the convention was supposed to finish, and I was still in the overflow line when 5:00 PM passed. Kat still had a number of people in her line, as well, but not quite as many because she was going faster. Both of them insisted on staying for every fan, though, and even when Dom was being rushed and told to go faster with each of us, she made a point of apologizing that she couldn’t spend longer with a lot of people. It was very sweet. When Kat left, she waved to all of us to say goodbye and thank you for coming and that she hopes to see us at future conventions.

To be honest, since I had already seen her that weekend, had I not already stood in the line for two hours by that point and paid for another autograph/selfie combo while in the line, I would’ve left so Dom could have gone home sooner, but since I had, I just made a point to be fast when I got up there. I pretty much told her that I thought she was spot on about Earpers being an incredible community, like she said in the panel, and thanked her for the weekend. When we had taken the selfie, I asked if I could hug her and she said, “Of course,” so I did, but that was about the extent of the interaction because it was undoubtedly a long day for her and I didn’t want to make it longer.

That’s where my weekend experience ended with them, and honestly, you guys, it was really so awesome. I can’t quite tell you how awesome it was, or how energized I felt leaving. Earpers are amazing. Kat and Dom are incredible.I just love this whole fandom so much I could squeeze you all! But I’m done rambling for now.

#wayhaught #katherine barrell #kat barrell #dominique provost chalkley #wynonna earp cast #emerald city comic con #eccc #long post for ts

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hangeladavis · 5 years

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A Gift For You On My 30th Birthday

IT’S MY 30TH BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

This is an accurate portrayal of how I felt this morning when I woke up! 30!!!! WOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!! I have lots of feels so I made a playlist. Naturally. So here are 30 songs (+1 for good luck) that I love and a little bit about them.

Knockin on Heaven’s Door by Bob Dylan - My mom says that this is the first song that came on the radio when we left the hospital. Imagining that it’s the first song I heard is nice.

I Love Your Smile by Shanice - When I was a baby child, this was my song! Every night when my dad got home from work and walked into our apartment in Queens I would run to him and ask him to play my song and I would sing it. HARD! Mind you I was like 2 or 3 but it didn’t matter.

Fly Like An Eagle by Seal - Can we talk about the Space Jam soundtrack!? It was vibe to my 6 or 7 year old self and it still goes! I feel like this album was the first time I really heard music. And felt it.

I Wanna Be Down by Brandy - Ok so my dad got those Columbia House cds for 1c or whatever and the first one he gave me was Brandy’s self titled album. You couldn’t tell me nothing!!! Hairbrush karaoke on a million!

Bills, Bills, Bills by Destiny’s Child - When “Writings on the Wall” came out, I really tried to convince my friends to do a backyard performance with choreography and everything. They said no but it was then at 9 that I knew I wanted to be an artist, a director specifically.

We Can’t Be Friends by Deborah Cox - Another in the Columbia House cd collection, I played this album out and knew every word. I played it last summer after not listening to it for at least 15 years and still knew every word and every riff.

My All by Mariah Carey - “I’d give my all/ To have/ Just one more night with you” I had no real context for what I was singing but I used to sing this song so hard! I miss classic Mariah.

Kick Your Game by TLC - That Crazy, Sexy, Cool album was so classic and it was hard to pick one song but this was my jam!

I’ll Be There by The Jackson 5 - Now that I am older I question if I really want someone to be there with that much fervor after a breakup but when baby MJ sings “just look over your shoulders honey, oooh!” I feel it in my soul!

Dirty Diana by Michael Jackson - This song sends me. From the very beginning, to the beat drop. And when she grabs the phone from him and tells his baby “He’s not coming back/because he’s sleeping with me!” thats a moment. No one wants to be on the receiving end of that call but Diana gets what she wants.

That’s The Way Love Goes - JANET! Queen of the Whisper Sing! Duchess of Tight Choreo! I was way too young to be singing this song but I blame my dad. It’s a sexy jam and I don’t regret it.

Are You That Somebody by Aaliyah - When I was 10, some friends and I danced to this song at our elementary school. My mom choreographed it, we got matching outfits and we performed it. Another group of girls (who were admittedly more popular) danced to “Maria, Maria” and they wore matching cowboy hats. Naturally, there was a showdown on the playground over who was better. Naturally.

Just a Friend 2002 by Mario - Westbury Middle School! It was the best of times and the worst of times. Mainly the worst of times cuz middle school is hellish and there is nothing you could do to make me want to relive those years. But one of the sweet moments was getting a mixed cd from this boy that had a crush on me and this was the first song. Swoon It worked. We dated for a while. It was cute.

My Life, My Love, My All by Kirk Franklin - This is the first song I ever choreographed and it changed my life. I was 10 years old. I showed my mother the choreo and she said teach me. It was in that moment that she validated my artistry. That’s why can’t nobody tell me nothing. I have been doing this for 20 years!

Healing by Richard Smallwood - My mother choreographed this piece for the church dance ministry, Choresis, at Memorial Presbyterian Church in Roosevelt, NY. It was one of their most popular pieces and it gave my mother the outlet she needed to dive headfirst into her artistry. I learned how to lead, facilitate and hold healing arts-centered space from my mother and the women she danced with. Their labor made me possible.

Air Force Ones by Nelly - Back to Westbury Middle School, this song is to honor the Air Force 1s wearing preteen I was. Ooh girl…

Ready For Love by India.Arie - When this song came out I thought I knew what it meant and sang it as such. Girl. Girl Girl Girl Girl Girl Girl… 15+ years later and the only thing I know is that I don’t know very much at all. Also this song is very hetero and I am indeed very queer. lol

I’ll Write A Song For You by Earth, Wind & Fire - Family road trips were not complete without this song. We still sing this song like it’s our job. I knew we were getting older when my brother Jordan couldn't hit the high notes.

As by Stevie Wonder - This song. Whew. When I was 10, my mother and I were asked to dance to this song at the funeral of a baby that died. We did and afterwards I was tore up. I kept thinking about my baby brother, Aaron, who has just been born and how I would feel if he died. I didn’t listen to this song for years. Until I really listened to the words and thought about a love that transcends space and time. This song inspired me to write a musical based on Stevie Wonder’s music. And it is my favorite song by my favorite singer.

Breathe from In The Heights Musical - Fast forward, my senior year of college my parents gave me tickets for In The Heights for Christmas. My best friend Lana and I sat in the second to last row in this Broadway house and when this song started I wept. I mean completely lost it. Because she was singing my story. I was flunking out of college my senior year and hadn’t told my parents. I had been a top student in high school and graduated #5 in my class. But I didn’t have words to name my anxiety, depression and fear that I had no idea what to do with my life after school. “And what will my parent say?/Can I go in there and say/"I know that I'm letting you down” This song still makes me cry.

I’m Here from The Color Purple Musical - I’ll let the song speak for itself. “I believe I have inside of me /Everything that I need to live a bountiful life/And all the love alive in me/I'll stand as tall as the tallest tree/And I'm thankful for every day that I'm given/Both the easy and hard ones I'm livin'/But most of all, I'm thankful for/Lovin' who I really am

Back That Azz Up - Ha! This is my favorite transition. This song is for my undergrad club days at A&T and the Blu&White fam.

Boogie Oogie Oogie by A Taste of Honey - But I don’t actually club for real because I am a grandma that missed my era. I could dance to disco all night actually.

Seasons of Love from RENT Musical - What can I say? I’m a theatre kid. This is for A&T’s theatre department that taught me so much and made me so much of who and how I am as an artist. And Rest in Peace to the mother of our theatre department, Frankie Day.

Screens by Zoocrü featuring Al Strong - In 2016, I met a woman named Margaret A. Brunson who changed my life. (She has that effect on everyone) The first time we hung out she took me to an Kickstarter kickoff party for a band named Zoocrü. I had never heard of them before but as soon as they started playing I was like Who are these boys? I offered my administrative assistance for their campaign and it turned into more than I ever imagined. That offer is what pushed me into consulting and it’s been a joy to work with artists and creatives. I am grateful that our paths crossed.

Sunday Candy by Donnie Trumpet - My grandmother, my Nanny, Evelyne Marie Laisure Marshall passed away on September 29, 2017. Her living made me possible and her passing changed my life. I talk about grandmas so much because I dont know who I would be without her love. I miss her so much but I find her everywhere; in my red fingernail polish, in my card shuffling, in my baking, in my political analysis, in my care. And yes, in the candy dish in my living room.

F.U.B.U. by Solange - Last year I created a show called “Buy My Soul And Call It Art”. I had no idea what I was doing but my Nanny had passed and my cousin Michael had passed and the Universe was telling me to “do it scared”. This song was featured in the piece because I never wanted anyone to forget who this is for, who this is centering. “All my niggas in the whole wide world…”

I Want You by Erykah Badu - The second show in the trilogy is “Buy My Body And Call It A Ticket” and that show almost killed me. I had to go somewhere deep inside myself and that place is dark and scary and I wasn’t sure that I was gonna make it out. But I did. And what brought me back was this. “I want you.” I want my body. I want my life. I want my love. I want myself.

I Need You To Survive by Hezekiah Walker - Show number 3 (which will be rebooted) is “Buy My Art And Call It Holy”. Though I don’t consider myself a Christian, I cannot separate myself from my Christian upbringing and this is one of my favorite songs. When I sing it I am singing it out to my people. I am singing to you. “I need you/ You need me/We’re all apart of one body”

Never Would Have Made It by Marvin Sapp - Yall there have been times when I wasnt sure if I was gonna make it to 30. Seriously. Depression and anxiety is real. Sometimes it zaps the desire to be right out of me. But I am here. And I am so grateful. Here’s to another day, another week, month, year, decade!

Crazy, Classic, Life by Janelle Monae - Did ya’ll think there wouldnt be some Janelle Monae on here!?! This is my theme song! Let’s ride this thing til the wheels fall off!

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kisskissbanggang · 5 years

Text

Five Little Things Tag💕

Tell us five little things we might not know from just looking at you, and then tag five friends.

I originally did this tag here but I'll give it another go!

Tagged by my baby @wildernessuntothemselves 💗

I like to sing and act but I don't think I'm particularly good at either. When I was into production I loved directing because I really enjoyed working with actors. It's something I really miss. I almost joined choir in high school (where I would've met my guy three years early) but decided that was too much drama and stumbled upon my nerd kingdom anyhow and whoops yearbook next door was even more drama.

I sort of refound my femininity in the past few years. In college I was surrounded by gorgeous and angrogynous hippies and just finished my senior year of high school where I had outgrown my emo-ness and wore heels and purses to school. So I got a dude wallet, wore jeans and flannel 99% of the time, and my "please don't bother me" walk adopted a masculine swagger. It wore off in my senior year of undergrad and now I've pretty much evened out. I love the color pink again, I don't wear bras, I still have a shoe fetish (of boots AND heels), I got better at makeup and nails, and overall I'm just having a good time doing whatever I want.

My ears are stretched to a 00g because it's the turnaround where I can still shrink naturally and somewhat easily if I decide to. I've readily considered going bigger, but I want to get my next piercings before I decide. Mostly I want to even out my ears because my right is much less elastic than the left.

Speaking of ears, I've only had one traditional needle piercing! I got my industrial done at a local shop in college and my piercing artist was Very Exhausted with having yet another customer who grew up with Claire's piercings. It wasn't bad whatsoever and I'm excited to get more work done.

I grew up with an aversion to body hair! I begged my parents to let me shave my legs until they gave in when I went to middle school and started going to gym class. I have dark hair and all my friends were blonde or had light body hair, so I really felt like I stood out! It wasn't long before I started shaving everything below my eyebrows and that lasted well into college where I finally learned to let my leg hair and arm hair grow for once. I don't shave my arms anymore, but I do regularly shave my legs (just not every day like I used to back then). Early this year my dude convinced me to grow out my armpits for the first time and I love it and have never felt so free. But my mustache and chin hair? Nuh-uh. No room for that in this house.

Tagging @hellapainyo @ultimate-kpop-trash-scenarios @justanotherblackchick @00-k @suncitee 💕💕💕

#tag games #me

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sabraeal · 5 years

Note

#51 sounds really cute! :D

#51: things you said as we danced in our socks

Set a few weeks before graduation

Wide Florida Bay | Previous

Horns rattle from the tinny speaker, and thebriefest bass guitar, before abruptly cutting off. Shirayuki frowns as shescoops up her phone, flicking the screen on – that clip is so unsatisfying, she reallyneeds to fix it –

r u done?im doneim dooooooonnnnne

She glances up from the mixer whirring away, catching the bookbagslumped against the wall of the vestibule, abandoned the moment she walkedthrough the door.

I just got backObi still has one more though

ugh ofctell him hes an overachiever and he should b ashamed

(He’s been sitting like that for almost fifteen minute,pointer hovering over Add Class, hisdesignated selection time bleeding out, only fifteen more before the juniorsgets to start picking their classes too –

“I shouldn’t bother,” he says, toneless. “You have to applyfor it.”

She tucks into his side, laying her head on his shoulder. “Sodoes everyone else. You have just as good a chance as anyone.”

“You’re not doing it.”

She blinks, tilting her head up. “I’m not the one interestedin informatics.”

“It’ll be over my credit load,” he tries instead. “I’d need permissionfrom the dean –”

She tweaks his elbow, just hard enough to make him squirm. “Good thinghe’ll be your graduate advisor.”

It takes a bit for him to blush – or at least for her to see it – but there’s pink just under bronze on his ears, and that’s enough. “That’s not – that’sonly if Admissions all goes temporarily batshit and lets me in.”

His chest shakes, breath coming quick, and she slides her hand down,covering his. “You should do it,” she says, studiedly casual. “What’s the worstthat can happen? They say no?”

His breath steadies, but not easily. “Right. Yeah.”

The click is less than a second. “Fuck ‘em, right?”)

i don’t think i’ll tell him that

FINELAMEsuzus been done since yesterday bcuz hes a slackerwhen obi is done we should celebratelike unreal amts of booze celebrate

It’s – it’s not that her heart pounds, it’s just – quiet,now that the mixer is off. Everything is more – noticeable. Now that she – she’s –

She’s thinking about the last time they got drunk at Yuzuri’sbehest, looming over them as she poured more and more shots, tellingthem it’s a celebration, everyone has todrink –

– I don’t think you’dbe so hard to figure out, darlin’. Obi’s drawl is liquid in her memory,pouring over her like honey. Just have toknow where to touch –

uh sureI guess?

u guess?is there some sort of problem?

She thinks of Obi, chest heaving,slack-jawed, eyes wide – if I capsize inyour thighs, high tide – of what he’dlook like with swollen lips, panting down her body, spreading her legs –

Ugh. She shakes her head. Thewhole thing is just – just – a pop-up she can’t shake, an ad that keepsplaying over her day at odd intervals, only instead of it being for somethinglike experimental allergy medication or Cialis, it’s for Obi, like she suddenly needs to be reminded every few minutes thathe’s attractive and also experienced, like maybe she should consider –

no!everything is fine!

It will pass. It always does.

…whatever the ideas r percolating ill let u know what we decide but like def booze

This isn’t – it isn’t a problem. Everything is fine – very fine, the most fine.

All her papers are written, revised, and already sitting in drop-boxes, her only final is a multiple choice test about European History, most of which she learned just from living with Kiki for a year. If anything, she is set, living her best life –

“God.”

Her whole body flushes, toe-tip to hairline, and she’s so busy trying not to think of skin under her lips, of hearing that in an entirely new context, that she nearly misses the slam of the door.

Obi tilts a long-suffering look toward her as he leans against the wall, toeing his shoes into the tray. “I’m glad that’s fucking done.”

There isn’t a problem, because whatever this is, it’s just a phase. Something that will definitely pass.

It just never takes this long.

“Did your test go well?” she asks, clearing her throat, like it might expel the images her mind is supplying as he saunters around the corner, shirt already pulling up taut torso, sun-bronzed abs on display.

“Hope so,” he sighs, balling his T-shirt up in his hand. “Otherwise Lata’s going to give me a few more of these for putting off our action plan.”

It takes her a whole minute to realize what he’s pointing at, to see the thick silver sprawl of scars across his back and not the way his muscles ripple beneath the skin, the way his shoulder blades make his whole back look like an anatomy model.

She frowns. “Professor Forenzo would never –”

“I know, I know,” he says, waving a hand at her as he crosses into his room. “Gimme a minute, I gotta get out of these clothes. It’s killer out there.”

“Right,” she replies, faint, definitely not noticing the way his hands settle on his waistband, definitely not thinking about his skin shining with sweat –

She doesn’t have a problem, it’s just – just that she hasn’t figured out a way to get him back, to close out this prank so she can – can stop thinking about that stupid song, and capsizing on thighs and what it might feel like if he –

plans decidedwe gonna go C L U B B I N G

Shirayuki’s teeth grit down, her hands bracing against the counter. This is fine. They’ve gone before, a nice little place above a bar in downtown Wilant; it’d been all 80s songs and they’d all had a little more than they’d bargain for, and Obi –

– you’re a squeezing hips, neck-kissing girl, aren’t you, darlin’? –

Ah, maybe she…shouldn’t think about that. He didn’t even remember it in the morning.

“You all right, Doc?”

She jolts, watching Obi settle on the couch, bare feet kicked up on the coffee table, arms sprawled out over the back, remote in hand. Her hands tighten on the counter, trying to ground herself, trying not to have her knees go weak as she traces the delicate bones in his feet, the strain of his t-shirt over his biceps –

if obi gives u shit tell him its obligatorythis is the price of fucking friendship okay

“You might not want to get too c-comfortable,” she stammers, stacking cookies, trying to look like she’s doing something in the kitchen, and not just – ogling him. “Yuzuri says we need to go out and celebrate.”

His head turns toward her, just slightly. “Celebrate what?”

“Being done with, you know…school.” It sounds weak, even to her own ears, and the grunt that comes from him tells her he agrees.

“We’re all going to grad school,” he huffs out. “We’re not going to be done with school for the next decade, if Lata has anything to say about it.”

“Well, it’s the end of undergrad,” she presses, feeling flushed. “And the end of our thesis work –”

“And just what is this version of celebrating going to entail?” he asks with a sigh. “I already have my sweat pants on.”

I’ve noticed is not the right thing to say. Neither is dumbly standing there, thinking how good he makes them look. “Yuzuri says we’re going clubbing.”

“Oh, no,” he says, firm. “No. I don’t dance.”

“She wants me to tell you it’s a non-optional social convention.”

“Is that how she’s getting Suzu to go?”

“Probably.” Her shoulders twitch in a shrug. “You know how she feels about this sort of thing.”

His eyebrows lift. “That there’s no better way to celebrated scientific achievement than to get trashed and grind on strangers?”

“Yes.” Not quit how she would have put it. “That.”

His look turns incredulous. “And you went for that?”

“It’s what she wants to do,” Shirayuki insists, because – because it’s not like she cares. It’s not like she’s thinking about the way he was dancing with anyone who showed interest the last time, wondering if he might –“She’s been here longer. Maybe this is the best way to celebrate. When in Rome, you know?”

“That is the exactopposite of an attitude you should have in Florida. Never do what people inFlorida do.” He rolls his head along the back of the couch to give her a flatlook. “It’s like you’ve never seenthe internet.”

She returns itwith a look of equal flatness. “We made it so the Olin maris can be bred in captivity. We’ve saved an entire species.We can spend one night doing what Yuzuri wants to do.”

“Yuzuri wants toget sloppy drunk and see if she can get Suzu to breed in captivity.”

“And we should support that.” She sighs at his incredulous look, padding out to put the plate of cookies in front of him. “Besides, I’ve seen you dance. You seemed – fine.”

That is definitely a word. That she can use. Safely.

“We danced at a gala,” he protests, “I wore a suit. Youstepped on my feet. That is not this. This is – swampy club dancing. It’s acircle of hell, not an activity.”

She refrains from mentioning the other time; she doesn’t think he’d appreciate remembering just how good he dances drunk to Come On Eileen, no matter how impressive it was.

“I think you just need to get excited.” She’s too used to his stare to shrivel under it. “You know, uh – get pumped.”

“Are you evenplanning on drinking?”

She grimaces.“No.”

“That is such awaste, you can’t even drive.”

She frowns. “Ihave my license now.”

He gives her apointed look. “You can’t even drive.”

She stares at himfor what must be a full minute before it hits her, grin breaking out across her face. “I have just thething to get you in the mood.”

“Aw, c’mon,” hemoans as she pulls him upright. “I’ve got so many Cutthroat Kitchens to watch. On this one, theycook spaghetti and meatballs and someone takes some lady’s garlic.”

“Look, you alreadyknow what happens!” She grins at him. “So now you can do my thing instead.”

He grimaces when she pulls out her phone, when he sees her bring up her music library, pleading, “No, don’t –”

“Why do you build me up –”

“I’m honestly concerned,” he mumbles over the tinny piano. “Do you know what kind of music they play in clubs?”

“–Buttercup, baby–”

“This is to pump you up!” she tells him, trying to guide him into a bobbing two-step, one he follows with the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows. “Get your blood flowing!”

“Oh my god,” he sighs. “Of course. This is your pump up music. Motown.”

“It’s uplifting.”

“You listen to Angel of the Morning when you get up, don’t you?”

Her mouth pulls thin. “That’s not Motown –”

“That’s not a no.”

“See,” she tries instead, “you’re getting more lively already!”

There’s a flash of teeth behind his lips, but he hides it in his shoulder. “Whatever, the song is ending. How about you put on an actual club song?”

Her finger hovers over her screen.

“This decade.”

“Fine,” she sighs, scrolling past her collection of 80s music. “I can do that.”

“Uh-huh, I’m–”

“Shawty had those Apple Bottom Jeans, boots with the fur –”

He stares. “All right, I’m concerned you don’t know what year it is.”

“They still play this!” she insists, starting to bop to the beat. “It’s on plenty of club mixes.”

“All right,” he sighs, taking her hands. “This is physically painful, Doc. No one dances like that at a club.”

“Plenty of people do,” she insists, leaving out that most of her club experience is seeing them on CSI reruns. She’s got a feeling he already knows.

“Come here,” he guides her closer, until their hips are almost touching. “Let me just – show you. End the embarrassment.”

“I’m not –” Embarrassing gets swallowed along with her tongue, because his hand hooks over her hips, her own right beneath, guiding her into a slower swing that barely involves feet moving at all. He’s not – not touching her anywhere else, but he’s so close he might as well be, and she’s just – aware. Of all of him.

He smells nice.

“Oh is this – grinding?” she squeaks. “I’ve heard about that before –”

“No.” His voice is entirely too deep. “This would be grinding.”

His hands tug on her, yanking her forward until his knee is between her legs, until every shift on her body brings her right down on his thigh and –

Oh, that is – that’s not –

Okay, maybe this is a problem.

“Oh,” she breathes, jolting away, right back into the wall. That should be it, end of moment, but she – she doesn’t let go of his hands, and then he’s crashing into her, just catching himself on the wall, her hands still twined in his –

“Sorry.” He swallows; she’s so close she can hear it. She can see it too, and the way his eyes are all dark, mostly pupil with a thin rim of gold. His leg is still between hers, and her hands press up by her shoulder, and he’s just – so, so tall –

If he’d just bend down a little, maybe she could –

“Eep!” she yelps, pocket buzzing. “That’s just – I think Yuzuri –”

“Oh,” he breathes, pulling back. “Right. Her clubbing thing.”

r u guys gonna be ready soon?i wanna b drinking already

Obi’s already wandered away, back to the couch, and she –

i think our night is already spoken forobi wants to stay inbut let’s do breakfast tomorrow

boobut i get to pick the place

#Anonymous #The Wide Florida Bay #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #my fic #ans #Obi is one of those guys who is like #your extremely attractive friend #and Shirayuki is not like...NEW to thinking about stuff nebulously involving him #but between here and the dinner her struggle is really...#that this is longer and much more sober period than she ever managed before #and stuff with Zen is weird #and so she can't just...start thinking about how her life is all planned out #two years at lyrias and then a PhD and everything is all set!#that's apparently a plan Zen forgot about #and now Obi's attractiveness is OMNIPRESENT #a constant companion #and she doesn't know how to DEAL with real attraction #it's not until the dinner that she finally puts together that OH HUH #she wants to be his GIRLFRIEND #and obv she's telling Yuzuri nothing #because Yuzuri would be like PLEASE JUST BANG AND GET MARRIED ALREADY and she knows it

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