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dollslayer · 3 years

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Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

#sugary4kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!Steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!steve rogers #sugar daddy au #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #fluff #smut

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gallavictorious · 3 years

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Gallavich Week Day 7: Meet-Ugly

And for my final trick: have 1,084 words of post-S11 bickering husbands and introspection, with a tiny sprinkle of angst and fluff.

Read below or on AO3.

---

What Those Assholes Know

It takes effort not to slam the cupboard door. It takes effort to pour a glass of water and drink it slowly. It takes effort to turn around, calmly, and look at Mickey rather than, says, storm past him and sulk on the balcony.

”What?” Mickey asks.

He's leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and staring at Ian with eyebrows raised.

It takes effort to just grit his teeth a little and to keep his voice steady. ”Think maybe you could stop doing that?”

”Do what?” Mickey asks.

It takes effort not to snarl you think you're playing dumb but you really are a fucking idiot, you asshole.

Ian closes his eyes for a moment, counts to three. They're adults. They're married. They need to talk about this stuff, and he won't let Mickey goad him into having a fight (likely to end in angry fucking) instead of discussing it like responsible, mature people.

He opens his eyes again and fixes them on his husband. ”Telling people that you used to steal shit from the store where I worked and that I got pissy when you punched my boss and took his gun and when I came to take it back you pounded the hell out of me and then I pounded the hell out of you, 'if you know what I mean'.”

”Least I leave out the part where you were fifteen and sleeping with your married boss.”

He does, and Ian supposes he should be thankful for small favours, but he doesn't feel like being thankful. He feels like throwing his empty glass at Mickey because he knows that Mickey is doing this shit on purpose. Mickey might not give a damn about what people think but he knows that Ian cares, at least a little, and Mickey isn't actually stupid so he knows how people react when he tells them stuff like that too.

And still he keeps doing it, whenever any of their new neighbors or the guys from their pilates class or one of the other security teams running weed asks about how him and Ian met. This time it had been the couple living two doors down; last week it was bartender at the pub they'd started hanging out at when they couldn't be bothered to make it over to the South Side and the Alibi.

”I don't know what the big deal is,” Mickey insists, with dogged casualness. ”I mean, it's the truth.”

”Yeah, but so is we met through my sister, she and Ian are best friends, and that doesn't make people feel so uncomfortable they start avoiding us.”

”No one's avoiding us, man.”

”No? What about Mrs. Jensen on the third floor? She practically threw herself down the stairs yesterday when she saw us coming.”

Mickey scrunches up his face. ”That old bat? You really wanna talk to her?”

And no, not really, since she yaps on endlessly about her dead dog and seems like she's secretly a racist, but: ”That's not the point. We–

”Isn't it?” Mickey interrupts. ”Listen man, if they can't deal with the way we got together, they ain't gonna like us in the long run anyway. Isn't it better to weed out the losers straight away than to waste time playing nice with people ain't ever gonna accept us for who we are?”

Oh. Ian blinks, because put like that...

”I mean,” Mickey presses on, ”unless you're fucking ashamed of it or something.”

He still sounds perfectly disinterested, like the topic doesn't concern him in the slightest, but he's suddenly avoiding Ian's gaze and rubbing at his eyebrow.

Oh, Ian thinks again. Okay, maybe he should have seen this coming.

”No,” he says carefully and with great emphasis as he takes a step closer to Mickey and tries to catch his husband's eyes. ”I'm not ashamed, Mickey.”

Not of how they started and not of anything that they are.

Not of Mickey, not ever.

”Just figured it might be easier for us here if we don't go out of our way to tell everyone how different we are,” he continues as he reaches out to put a tentative hand on Mickey's neck and run his thumb over the back of his head.

Mickey still doesn't look at him but he doesn't shy away from the touch either.

”Like, we don't have to be friends with anyone, but it would it really be so bad to be friendly with them? Make them less likely to complain to Melaine when we fuck too loud.”

Maybe it's cheap and sneaky to use that as an argument, but it seems to do the trick – or maybe Mickey's just reassured by Ian's professed lack of shame – because Mickey makes a face, but moves a bit closer so that Ian can wrap his arms around him and put his chin on top of his head.

”I guess,” he mutters into Ian's shoulder – but after a moment he pulls back to stare up at Ian with an intent look on his face. ”But you really think it's worth pretending to be some normal fucking Joe just so assholes you don't give two shoots about don't look at you funny?”

Ian frowns. There's no trace of feigned nonchalance in Mickey's voice now; there's no attempts to avoid Ian's stare. His husband is completely serious, and it occurs to Ian that maybe this isn't just about Mickey and Mickey's insecurities, but about Ian, too, and Mickey's concern for him.

Mickey's concern for Ian, who has tendency to conform to expectations of others, sometimes to the point of losing sight of his own wants and needs.

For Ian, whom Mickey never wants to see make himself small and bland and anything less than himself.

Letting go of a long sigh, Ian smiles, though the shape of it tastes bittersweet in his mouth, and he pulls his arms tighter around his husband and drops a kiss on his hair.

”I guess not,” he allows. ”But maybe we find some sort of middle way? A compromise?”

”Yeah? Like what?”

”I don't know. But we can think about it, maybe?”

”Yeah, okay.” Mickey sounds decidedly put-upon, but that's just Mickey. He makes no move to break away from the embrace.

Ian smiles and runs a hand through his husband's hair and loves him and it takes no effort at all.

---

HEY I MADE IT! One thing for each day of Gallavich Week DONE! There were quite a few times when I really, truly doubted that I’d make it, but here we are! I’m exhausted and delighted and I will be having champagne to celebrate now!

(I had thought to play this theme straight, btw, because I love meet-uglies and they work SO WELL for Ian and Mickey, buuuut... )

Massive thanks to @gallavichthings for putting this together yet again! The effort you put in to make this happen for the fandom is much appreciated; you are a star! I'm extremely eager to catch up on all the exciting stuff I haven't had time to look at properly yet because I was busy writing my own little ficlets. To-read list is looking great. XD

#gallavich #gallavich week 2021 #gw2021 #ficlet #my stuff

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miastideclock · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction To Their Relationships Accidentally Going Public

@babybouille asked

Hi there ~ ! I saw that your request are open ? If possible can I please have a skz reaction for when their relationship with their s/o accidently goes public ? Thanks :)

Can do, love!

Word Count: 4,6k Warnings: sorry this took so long, not really a warning bUT YOU GET IT

Bang Chan

“What kind of spoiler? You will see it later. Recently what has everyone been up to these days? I’ve been working out a lot. Like, I’ve been eating salads. I want to build up my body-” Chan answered as he read the questions out loud.

Chan and Felix were sat on each their chair in Chan’s studio, talking to the fans via Chan’s weekly livestream. However, you had completely forgotten this. As you and Chan had been dating for almost six months, you probably should know this by now, but what can you do.

You knocked gently before opening the door, instantly closing it back up when you saw what they were doing. Luckily, the camera was at such an angle that you couldn’t see the door.

Chan jumped in his seat, as did Felix. “Hold on one moment you guys, I just need to mute our mic for a second.” The older Aussie spoke into the camera before clicking a few buttons. Chan then got out halfway out of frame, to the point where you could just see from the waist down on the left side of his body. From where he was standing, he could reach the door, so he opened it back up to find you standing there with a sheepish smile on your face.

“I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” You instantly apologized to both your boyfriend and your friend. As you leaned gently to the side to see past Chan, Felix chuckled, waving it off saying it was an honest mistake. “Did anyone see me?”

Even though you and Chan had dated as long as you had, the public had yet to find out. Originally, Chan was under a strict dating-ban, but after a few weeks of convincing, the management agreed to let you date, but only if you kept it a secret, and if you worked at the company. That way no one would be suspicious of you entered and left the building at free will.

��No, no one saw you babe- we’re good.” Chan chuckled and leaned forward to kiss you, jokingly making kissy noises as he came closer, mostly to gross out Felix, but also because the two of you genuinely found it funny to act like those super-gross couples.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m headed to the store, you boys want anything?” You asked, but as both the boys said no, their phones started vibrating like crazy. Felix grabbed his from the table they were sitting at, his face first confused, then a look of panic struck him. He instantly motioned for you and your boyfriend to be quiet as he grabbed the mouse and started clicking around the screen. He ended the live.

“Mate. You didn’t mute yourself.” Felix breathed once Chan asked what all the commotion was about. Chan’s blood ran cold as he realized what that meant. You instantly pulled out your phone and went to the VLIVE app to see the ending of their stream, and sure enough. Kissy sounds, loving nicknames, Felix saying you were cute together. It was all there.

“I guess we’re official then?” Chan sighed as he looked at you, scared of how you would react.

“Oh thank god!”

Lee Know

“You excited for the set tonight?” You asked softly as you sat on your boyfriends lap. He gently brushed his hands through your hair as he hummed a reply.

“Yeah, it has been so long it feels like. But when you really do the math it really isn’t that bad.” Minho replied, the playing of your hair never stopping. You had enjoyed having your boyfriend to yourself for a while, but you knew how much he loved working and being on stage, so you didn’t mind giving him up to his members for a while.

You and Minho had been dating for about a year at this point, but you had yet to go public. The only people who knew were his members, and their management team. Or so you thought.

“Hyung, don’t kill me!” Seungmin ran over to the couch you were sat on in the greenroom, his make-up perfectly done and his outfit matching Minho’s. Minho sat up straighter, making you look up from where you had your face nuzzled into his chest.

“Then don’t give me a reason?” Minho spoke, asking more than anything. Seungmin looked genuinely panicked, and you soon grew concerned for the boy. You had seen him get worried over dumb things before, but never like this.

“I posted on Instagram. I didn’t see until I read the comments, but by then it was too late- I deleted it, but the fans are too fast.” He stumbled over his words and stuttered, almost as if he had just ran a marathon.

“Seungmin, calm down. What was it about the picture?” Minho was now also concerned for the well-being of his member, genuinely worried he would have an anxiety attack.

“You and Y/N are in it.” He breathed and showed you his phone. The screen showed his selfie, very cute picture. But if you zoomed in, you could see you and your boyfriend, cuddling, being mid-kiss. Unluckily for you, the quality was good enough to where you could definitely tell it was Minho.

You inhaled a sharp breath of air, and instinctively looked to see Minho’s reactions- but it was impossible to read him. Was he happy? Stressed? Angry? Sad? Even with a gun to your head, you couldn’t give an answer.

“I mean..” He started, not sounding very upset. “If it’s already out there, management can’t really force us to keep it a secret anymore, right?” He asked Seungmin what his opinion on the matter was, but he was at a loss for words. You had to side with Seungmin on this one, as it was a thing anyone would be angry at.

When all Seungmin could do was stutter out inaudible sounds, Minho turned to one of the managers that had just entered the room. “Am I in trouble?” He asked calmly, and much to everyone's surprise, the manager shook his head.

“No, but just meet with us in the conference room when we get back, so we can talk about where you can go and stuff.” He said, making you and Minho nod.

“That went well.”

Changbin

You smiled slightly as you smelled the freshly popped popcorn, the salty and buttery smell filling your nose. While humming gently to yourself as you poured the snacks out of the bag and into a bowl, bopping your head to the beat you heard in your head. “Blurry lines, yeah-yeah. So many, so many-” But you cut yourself off as you heard your show begin in the living room. You softly squealed and ran with the popcorn and your drink.

Your boyfriend Changbin and his group was going on a talk show, and you were so excited to see it. You always loved their live interviews as they always felt more charismatic when nothing was edited out.

“Tonight on Late Later Latest with Bentley™, Stray Kids! Welcome!” The host greeted the boys. They did their intro and got started. The host asked her usual questions, how promotion was going, how it felt being such an up-and-coming group etc etc. After the general questions, she asked more individual question, asking Minho about his dancing (Nat Geo), Felix and Chan about their life in Australia and so on. When she finally went to Changbin, you felt your heart beat proudly.

You had originally asked management if you could come to the audience of the talk-show and watch, but they sadly denied your request as people might get suspicious. You and Changbin had been dating since forever, but the public didn’t know yet. Management had agreed to let you keep dating, but only if they could expose your relationship at any given moment for promotion purposes. At first you were disgusted with their demands, but you soon understood where they came from, and agreed.

“So Changbin, what would you say motivates your writing the most?” The host asked, giving him a smile as she did so.

Changbin nodded and answered, not giving his answer enough thought. “Well, mostly my girlf-” but he cut himself off. “uuh- my members? Maybe my fans?” He stumbled over his words, trying to hide his original answer, but it was too late.

“Were you gonna say girlfriend?” The host asked him in kind of a humoring tone. Changbin then sighed and nodded, this making you choke on your popcorn, sending a few pieces flying as you coughed. You did not expect him to expose your relationship for the whole world to see, this fine Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah. I guess I have to come clean now, don’t I? Y/N, please don’t kill me.” He sheepishly smiled into the camera and gave you a slight wave, causing you to smile back at him and wave gently, not realizing he couldn’t see you. You then let your and fall into your lap as you giggled at your now public boyfriend.

Hyunjin

While almost skipping, you made your way down the hallway. Taking turn after turn and up and down hallways and staircases, you finally found what you had been looking for. The loud music gave it away instantly as you entered the room.

in the middle of the floor, looking at himself dancing in the mirror, stood your boyfriend Hyunjin. “Hi baby!” He grinned when he saw you stood there by the door. He stopped dancing and hurried over to you and picked you up to spin you around. “I missed you!”

You had been out of town for about three weeks, so it was with good reason he said what he did.

“Am I interrupting anything?” You quickly asked, praying that he would say no. He shook his head while copying your grin, finally placing you back on the ground. You took that opportunity to get on your tippy-toes and give him a kiss.

You and Hyunjin had been dating for just under nine months at this point, and your relationship was still as blooming as if was only a few weeks ago you went on your first date.

At first, you had been forbidden to date, as his idol-contract came with pretty serious and strict rules, but after sneaking around for about half a year, the company finally gave up and let you do whatever you wanted. Hyunjin’s managers were all surprised when you let them know that neither of you wanted to take the relationship public, at least not to begin with. So all the secrecy was completely your own ideas. Hyunjin’s members also agreed to keep you a secret for now, respecting you and Hyunjin’s decisions.

“Would they mind if I stole you for a day date? I was thinking maybe taking you on a picnic right now, and then after we could go to the fair?” You suggested, already having the picnic basket ready in your car parked outside.

“I already told them I would be occupied the day you came home. I just gotta send this to our editor, and he can work his magic or something!” Hyunjin let you know, letting go of your waist to run over to the camera propped up on a tripod. He had been filming a dance practise, something he did every once in a while.

He clicked the camera and then sat down on the floor next to the laptop the camera was wired to, clicking a few more buttons. After that he cleared out the room, and you were on your way.

The date was nice, you and Hyunjin catching up, even though you had spoken on the phone every single night while you were away. However, mid-date, Hyunjin got a phone call from his leader. As it was just Chan, he put it on speaker so you could listen in too.

“Hyung! What’s up?” He asked casually, after he had placed the phone back down on the blanket.

“Hyunjin- did you mean to post that? Cause if yes- hella cute. If not? I’m so sorry, mate.” Bang Chan’s voice was slightly static as he was talking through a phone after all, but that wasn’t what made his statement confusing.

“What are you talking about?” Both you and Hyunjin said at the same time.

“Oh, Y/N, fitting that you’re here too. But you posted the uncut version of your dance practice to our VLIVE instead of sending it to the editor. Everything is there.. Everything.” He spoke slowly, trying to make sure you and your boyfriend truly understood the consequences.

You looked over at Hyunjin for a second, him being just as confused as you were- all before he looked like he had touched a hot plate, his face lighting up in a grimace.

“You! You’re in the video! We kiss! And say dating! sHIT-” He started panicking.

“Baby- slow down. I don’t care if you don’t. Maybe it was time for us to go public anyways- we couldn’t have kept it a secret the rest of our lives, right? I love you, you love me- we can do this.” You spoke in a tone to try to calm him down.

“Yeah, I do love you. We’ll figure it out.” He replied after letting out a sigh of relief. You then leaned in to kiss him but was cut off by someone you had forgotten long ago.

“Awwww, you guys! That was so cu-” BEEP. Hyunjin quickly hung up on Chan even though he was mid-sentence, going back to kissing you.

Han

“Please don’t ever get a mustache.” You chuckled as you gently stroked the fake beard glued to your boyfriends upper lip. He chuckled as he returned the favor, gently pulling on your fake grandma-glasses.

“I would say the same about your outfit, but I don’t know. This whole grandma look is growing on me.” He joked, you swatting away his hand as he did so.

“You’re weird.” You laughed at him.

You were currently sat in a boot at a restaurant, trying to enjoy a good meal with your boyfriend. As you still weren’t known to the public yet, despite having dated for almost a year- you had to play dress up.

You were sat in a dated dress you could find in any grandmother's closet, matched with a shawl draped over your head and granny glasses, covering as much of your face as possible. Your other half was in a suit, distorting his true body-type, a fake mustache and a hat.

“I don’t know, I preferred the costume where you dressed as a woman.” You snickered, making Jisung roll his eyes and chuckle with you.

This was in no way shape or form the first time you had dressed up to go out, but it had been some time since the last time you did it. His company didn’t necessarily have anything against your dating, as long as you kept it lowkey. You could go public if you so wished, but if you did- you couldn’t go on dates on massively crowded spots.

“I liked the one where you were not only a man, but a biker!” Jisung cackled at that one. But before he could say anything else, you both noticed a flash of light in the distance. Your first thought was lightning, but as you were inside a shopping centre, you doubted it.

As you both turned to the source of the light, you saw not only one, but two paparazzis standing by the entrance of the restaurant, taking your pictures.

You then quickly looked up at each other, and then making a run for the door, trying to hide your faces as much as you could.

Once you made it outside, Jisung grabbed your hand as you still ran, trying to drag you after him. You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, as it would have to look ridiculous to anyone else. An old couple running at full speed down the shopping mall, as if they were being chased by the police? Iconic.

Your laugh soon infected Jisung causing him to laugh too, one hand on his hat, the other in yours.

Felix

“Okay, so- No! I’m not impostor- I’m down by electrical!” Felix defended himself as he spoke into the mic, discussing with the other players on Discord.

Felix was twitch streaming as he and some of his personal friends played Among Us. They also opted to use Discord rather than the chat that came with the game, when they were discussing.

“Nah, Felix sus! You know you can vent from electrical to medbay, and then you’re in cafeteria in two seconds, giving you plenty of time to kill cyan, and then leave!” One of his friends argued, prompting you to say something.

“No, I saw Felix do a garbage-task earlier, he safe.” You backed him. You hadn’t actually seen him to a task, but he seemed like he needed some help.

You loved playing with Felix and his friends, but you preferred it when they weren’t Twitch streaming. You were always scared to mess up, or let words slip. Words like babe, honey, or boyfriend. As you and your boyfriend Felix had decided to let the world think you were only friends, it made things a bit more difficult, gaming wise.

You had been dating for just over half a year at this point. His idol-company had asked you to date in secret for a while, just to see if it would work out before you announced it to the world- something you completely understood, as it was quite a mess to clean if you had a nasty break.

However, the past few weeks, you and Felix found yourself catching yourself almost revealing it by accident. At this point, you found it tiresome to keep the secret, wanting to spread it to the world so you could adore your boyfriend in public.

“Oh damn. Unless Felix and Y/N are impostor together!” Felix’s friend tried once again, but just as you had done previously you defended both you and your boyfriend.

“Eject confirmations are on. Danny was clearly the other impostor you dimwit.” You chuckled into your mic, making him groan.

“No, sorry- you’re right. Sorry Felix.” He apologized, prompting Felix to thank you for backing him, but along those lines, a certain word accidentally slipped his lips.

“Thanks, babe.”

As soon as the words had left his lips, the chat grew quiet, no one knowing if they were allowed to speak, or if Felix wanted to try and save his mistake. One of your monitors showed Felix’s stream which also happened to show his stream-chat, it going completely nuts.

xxemogirlxx: DID HE SAY BABE?

changbinishawt: IS Y/N HIS GIRLFRIEND?

falixlaa: omg i knew they were dating

And so on, and so forth. You found yourself in complete shock as you leaned back in your chair, your mouth wide open.

“Oh, screw it. Yes, Y/N is my girlfriend, and we’ve been together for a while. I’m also impostor while we’re at it.” He said, the relief in his voice prominent. As he spoke the last words, he ran over to his friend in MedBay and killed him, finishing the game.

The discord went crazy, all eight of Felix and you’s friends rioting.

“How does it feel being completely out to the world, Y/N?” You were asked by Danny.

“Feels great.”

Seungmin

“I’m really sorry, I’m already late for the meeting!” Your boyfriend, Seungmin apologized as he repeatedly kissed your cheeks, nose and forehead, finally landing on your lips.

“Go on! Have fun, and say hi to the boys from me would you?” You giggled and tried to squirm your way out of his hug. He finally released you, but not fully as he slid his hands down your arms and intertwined your fingers, slowly stepping away as he did so.

“Of course! Love you.” He smiled as he finally let go of your hand, but kept his walk backwards.

You were inside the company building at this point, so you didn’t need to worry if anyone saw you. You smiled at him and waved slightly until he turned a corner and was out of sight.

You and Seungmin had been dating for exactly six months, it being the reason for your date- to celebrate your anniversary. The company did have some words to say about your relationship in the beginning, but after a while they backed off and let you have your fun.

Once you were sure he was gone, you made your way out of the building and down to the bus-stop waiting for the next scheduled bus. Two girls were sat at the bus-stop already, waiting for the same bus as you probably. They seemed to have a weird look at you, but you ignored it

Maybe they had seen you and Seungmin enter the building! or maybe you just had gum on your pants? You decided to not give it too much thought. It was only a two minute wait, so before you knew it, you had your headphones plugged in and your phone in your hand. You were about to press the Spotify app, but soon noticed you had received a notification from VLIVE a few minutes ago.

You grew confused as the title didn’t mention any specific members hosting the live, but you clicked it nonetheless.

Your headphones were soon filled with the cheers and rioting of your boyfriends band members, having the time of their lives as some sat on the couch, and some on the floor. You did however fail to spot Seungmin in the crowd, making you a tad bit confused, but reckoned there was a reason for it. A reason you and about 1.2 million others soon found out.

Just as the boys calmed down and Minho opened his mouth to talk, the door at the very left of the screen opened and revealed a distressed Seungmin.

“Sorry I’m late, I was on my anniversary date with Y/N-” He started, not realizing the live had already started. The boys tried to save him as they started yelling once they saw where the sentence was going, but it was too late.

You felt your heart drop as you moved faster than lightning to tap the screen so you could see the comments. They were going crazy, everyone trying to figure out who you were, and if they had seen you before.

“Damn it. Well, sorry STAY- I do in fact have a girlfriend, and we would much appreciate it if you didn’t go trying to look for her, or harass her in any comment section. Thank you.” Seungmin asked directly to the camera, the comments instantly flooding with nothing but love and support for their faves and their significant others.

After the live was over, you found yourself smiling to yourself, happy that no one came with any mean comments.

As you were on your way to collect your bag and push the stop button on the bus, you accidentally made eye-contact with the two girls who were sharing headphones. They looked you up and down once more before their eyes lit up, almost if they realized.

Fear instantly washed over you, but it was soon gone as they raised their hands and waved and sent you little finger hearts, showing that they supported you. You softly waved back and stepped off the bus.

I.N

You were walking around a store downtown, minding your own business, having taken yourself out on a date. Your boyfriend, Jeongin was unable to join you as he had an early morning practice. You didn’t mind though, it had been a while since you got some time to yourself.

You and Jeongin had officially been dating for ten months circa, meaning you were already well into the relationship. His managers never really had anything against it as you seemed to follow all the company rules anyways.

Looking at the items in the thrift-shop you were in, a ring caught your eye, instantly making you think of Jeongin. You decided to give him a call to see if the ring was something he liked, and if you should bring it home for him.

The ringing of the FaceTime was short before he picked up, lighting up the whole screen with his massive smile. “Hi babe!” He beamed. You quickly greeted him and asked if he was busy. When he revealed he had a few minutes to spare, you flipped the camera so he could see what you were looking at.

“I saw this ring and thought it would suit you so well! It’s not too bold, and just large enough to make a statement. Would you wear it if I bought it for you?” You asked him as you showed him every angle of the ring, even how it looked on you.

“Oh I love it! It would go well with so many outfits too. You really know your stuff.” He complimented and chuckled. You spoke for a few more minutes before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?” You whipped around as they spoke to you, the voice belonging to a girl around maybe fourteen years old. You gently placed the screen of your phone against your stomach, not necessarily to hide your boyfriends face, but to be respectful towards the person you spoke to.

“Can I help you?” You asked as politely as you could. The girl soon waved over her friends who were scattered around the store, making them all step over to you.

“How do you know our oppa?” The first girl asked, almost sounding angry as she spoke. You shot her a confused glance, genuinely not knowing what she was talking about.

“I’m sorry- do I know you?” You asked, in case it was the little sister of one of your friends.

“No, you don’t. But I saw your phone and you are talking to our I.N-oppa!” She was almost throwing a tantrum at this point, and you had no idea what to say or do. You tried stuttering out a reply, but you found your mouth gaping and closing, like the one of a fish.

Muffles sounds suddenly came from your stomach, making both you and the girl look to your phone. You gently pulled it back out so you could see the screen. “Y/N, babe! Let me talk to them okay?” He suggested, having heard the entire conversation. You turned your phone around, but you didn’t let the girl hold it on her own, scared that she would run off with it.

“Hi! Nice to meet you! I’m Jeongin, and this lovely girl you are talking to is a good friend of mine, so I would really love it if you stopped being upset with her, and rather left her alone, okay?” Jeongin spoke to the girls, trying his best to come across as kind and sweet, even though he hated how they had treated you.

“Of course! But.. Is she your girlfriend?” The main girl asked, causing you to shake your head no, at the same time Jeongin sighed and confirmed you were. You felt your breath hitch and a smile creep up on your face.

“She is, but since we’re best friends now, you guys won’t tell anyone right?” He continued in the same baby-ing voice. Almost all of the girls agreed. All but one.

“Too late? I am so sorry!” She started sheepish, and ended in a panic. Apparently she had been filming the conversation and instead of stopping the filming when Jeongin asked them to keep it a secret, she had stumbled and uploaded it to twitter istead. Posting it to her hundreds and thousands of followers already.

Both you and Jeongin stood there silently for a second before you flipped the phone around and agreed that you should stop by the company building to do some damage control.

“I’ll see you there. Love you, bye.” You said and hung up. You gave the girls a half-assed smile and picked up the ring to go pay.

That took so long I am genuinely so so so so so sorry x

I hope you liked it tho!

-Bentley

440 notes · View notes

matbarzyy · 3 years

Text

Must Have Been The Wind [A.B.]

A/N: Soooo my requests are closed but I still get some and an anon sent me a good one that stuck in my brain and I ended up actually writing it anyway lol. I’ll link the post here once I’m not too tired to look for it again. Anyway, this is based off a song by Alec Benjamin, enjoy.

Word count: 2755

Warnings: Abusive boyfriend

“What the hell?” Anthony mumbled to himself and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

The loud noise that had woken him up echoed through the building again. It was glass shattering. Whatever was going on, it was happening in the apartment above his. The digital clock on his bedside table shone dark red numbers that read 3:05, and he groaned as he pushed the covers off his body and sat up.

At first, Anthony thought someone might have dropped glasses or plates, but the sound was much louder. It wasn’t an object being dropped, it was something being thrown. Knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep immediately, Anthony got up and yawned on his way to the kitchen. A dim light was still on, he had forgotten to turn it off before going to bed, but now he was thankful he could see the layout of his unfamiliar apartment.

He was renting the place even though he had just bought a brand new apartment that was at least twice as big. The day he sold his old place, a water leak and gas problem arose in his new building. For a moment, Anthony had thought he was cursed, but with some help he managed to find this place to rent and he didn’t even have to spend a night in a hotel.

It was a temporary solution, so he was okay with having only two bedrooms and a rather small kitchen. It wasn’t like he’d have his family coming over any time soon. Maybe the neighbours were a little crazy breaking stuff at ungodly hours, but with a glass of water and ear plugs Anthony would get right back to sleep.

He stopped dead in his tracks when the sound of glass shattering was replaced by a cry. His glass got abandoned on the kitchen counter while he tiptoed to his front door, trying to catch any other noise.

The voices turned clearer as the yelling grew louder, it wasn’t enough for Anthony to understand what they were saying, but he could tell there was a girl crying while arguing with a man. There was no way he could go back to bed now. What was he supposed to do?

Should he try to go up there? Was calling the police a better idea?

His dilemma ended when a door slammed upstairs. Quickly, Anthony glued his eye to the peephole to see anyone that might walk past his door. This cursed building didn’t have an elevator, so if someone was leaving he’d see them. The light in the corridor was off, but with the moon shining bright outside it wasn’t completely dark.

As the stomping of feet got closer he caught the silhouette of a man heading out. A minute later, the sound had faded and the entrance door had slammed shut with the noise Anthony was getting accustomed to.

He stepped back and grabbed a hoodie from his bedroom, pulling it over his head to hide his bare chest. Dressed in a little more than just sweatpants, he hurried to find shoes, grabbed his keys, and slipped out of his apartment.

When he got to the second floor the faint sound of a girl crying directed him to the right door. He lifted his hand to knock but hesitated for a second. What if he got the wrong place and bothered someone at three in the morning?

Deciding that someone’s safety was more important than getting in trouble with his neighbours, Anthony quickly shook his head and gave the door a couple of loud knocks. He heard shuffling on the other side, followed by footsteps, and eventually a slight creak.

“Can I help you?” The girl opened the door just a crack.

She had a sweater zipped up all the way to her chin, and her eyes were a little swollen, but in the darkness it was hard to tell she was crying for sure. Her voice seemed steady enough as far as Anthony could tell from that short sentence.

“Hi, sorry, um I know it’s super late,” he shuffled from one foot to the other nervously. If only he had thought about what to say before knocking. “I’m Anthony, I live right downstairs, I just heard some noise and stuff… I wanted to make sure everything’s okay?”

“Uh, yeah? I didn’t hear a thing, sorry,” the girl pulled the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her hands.

“Could have sworn it came from up here,” he played dumb to insist a little more, but she was quick to shut him down.

“Must have been the wind or something,” she shrugged. “Thanks, I guess, but uh, I should go,”

“Right, yeah, sorry I bothered you,” he murmured and stepped back before she quietly closed the door.

Anthony didn’t get a minute of sleep that night. Mat chirped him for his slow reactions when he practiced in the morning, but he had bigger things to worry about. Was that girl really okay? Or did she just tell him lies so that he wouldn’t intrude?

None of it sat right with him, but he was limited in his options, so he promised himself he’d keep an eye out for her as much as he could.

A week passed before anything happened again.

Anthony was on his way home from a game, still dressed in his game day suit and ready to crash into his bed. Even the adrenalin of the win couldn’t keep him up for much longer. He was half asleep as he walked up to the building, his keys out to get through the main entrance. Now that he had cooled off, his legs ached and he almost groaned at the thought of the stairs.

“Two more weeks,” he muttered to himself.

He was about to continue complaining out loud to himself when he spotted her. If he had paid attention he would have noticed the couple arguing way earlier. The man had a tight grip on her forearm, and he didn’t even notice the way her eyes flickered over to Anthony as he continued speaking.

“I told you not to fucking-”

“Everything okay?” Anthony spoke up loudly enough to startle the man.

“Mind your fucking business.” He turned around, but the hockey player was taller and obviously stronger, so he didn’t even look at him.

Instead, he stared at his upstairs neighbour and waited for her to answer.

“Fine,” she rubbed her forearm, soothing the red skin. He nodded in response but didn’t make a move, his bag still hanging over his shoulder.

“We’re not done.” The other man grumbled when he saw Anthony had no intention of walking up to his apartment until they moved too.

He stomped out, the noise matching what had resonated in the corridor the first night Anthony heard them fight.

“So, am I at least going to get your name?” He walked towards the stairs with her, letting her walk up first.

“Carrie,” she told him, taking the stairs two at a time. Anthony cursed in his head as he kept up with her, his legs burning from all the skating and a nasty fall.

“Well Carrie, if you ever need anything, I live right here, okay?” He motioned towards his door and she nodded.

“Thanks,” she glanced down at the floor as she said it, not even waiting for his reply before dashing for the stairs and heading back to her own place.

The next morning was nice for Anthony. The weather was beautiful, he didn’t have practice, and all he had to do was go for a walk and get himself a nice coffee to enjoy his day off. The park near his building was a little crowded, it was a Saturday after all, families walked with kids running back and forth, people walked their dogs, others jogged.

The little kiosk at one of the intersections didn’t look like much, but Anthony had found out the day he had to move here that their coffee was some of the best in the city.

Carrie seemed to know that too, because he spotted her a few feet away on one of the benches. She was alone, taking in the way the sun shone through branches and onto the grass.

“Can I sit?” Anthony asked, and she looked up at him.

“Sure,” She slid over to make space on the bench.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he began while racking his brain for the right thing to say. “And I don’t need to know whatever it was that happened when I heard that noise, or what was going on last night, but if you ever need absolutely anything, my door’s always open for you.”

“It’s fine I swear, he’s not as bad as it seems,” Carrie dismissed him and he scoffed.

“Well not as bad doesn’t mean ‘not bad’ so even if you just need a friend or whatever, I’m around,” he reiterated to make sure she wouldn’t hesitate if she was ever ready to ask for help.

“Thanks, Anthony,” she felt the corner of her lips itch to curl up while he leaned back.

“Not running away today?” He took in the people moving in front of them, resting his paper cup on his thigh.

“Not today,” Carrie smiled and took another sip of her coffee.

Only one more week before Anthony could move out.

Some of his things were still packed, a few boxes were stored in his garage in his new building, others were stacked in his spare bedroom and the rest would have to be repacked this weekend for him to finally vacate this apartment. He was excited to settle into his new place, he was somehow enjoying the whole decorating thing.

The only thing that bothered him was leaving Carrie. What was he supposed to do, leave her there and never come back? He couldn’t just turn his back with what he knew. She was the only thing on his mind day and night. Anthony couldn’t remember his dreams in the morning, but he was often convinced they had been about her.

The one thing that definitely wasn’t a dream was the loud knock on his door that night. 4:32am. It had to be Carrie.

Anthony jumped to his feet with a groan and rushed out of his bedroom. “Fuck,” he cursed as he slammed his shoulder into the door frame, not slowing down for a second until he reached the front door.

He threw it open and Carrie stumbled in, shaking and sniffling. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she hurried to make sure the door was closed.

“What happened?” Anthony’s eyes widened when he took in her panicked state. She barely looked up at him and cried harder, so he realised now wasn’t the time for questions. “Hey, hey come here,” he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re safe, it’s okay, you’re safe here.”

Carried leaned against his chest, biting her lip and shaking with quiet sobs. Her whole body was trembling, Anthony was the only reason she was standing, so he slowly walked over to the couch with her in his arms and sat down. He had managed to hit a light switch on his way to make a warm light illuminate the living room.

“Sorry, it’s so late,” she eventually whispered, but he pulled away and shook his head.

“Don’t apo-” Anthony started but cut himself off when he got a good look at her face. “What happened?” His tone was nowhere near soft this time, his jaw was clenched and he was ready to run up the stairs to break her boyfriend’s face.

A purple bruise was blooming on her cheekbone, and the skin had split so a little bit of blood seeped out of the wound.

“I-” Carrie tried to talk, but another sob shook her chest and she looked down instead, hiding herself.

“Carrie…” he reached out for her hands. “Did he do this?”

“Yes,” her answer was barely above a murmur, and he took a deep breath to calm down.

“Let me take a look,” he cupped the uninjured side of her face and guided her to tilt her head until the light hit the forming bruise on her cheekbone. “I’ll find something to put on that, okay?” Anthony dropped his hands and she avoided his eyes.

He found everything he’d need in his bathroom pretty easily. He was used to being injured, so he came back to the living room with a cream for the bruise and an ice pack.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” He said as he sat next to her and pushed a little bit of the product out on the tip of his fingers.

Careful not to press too hard, Anthony rubbed it over the bruise and made sure it was mostly absorbed before holding the ice pack to her face. It wouldn’t really ease the pain but it would at least reduce the swelling.

“I got it,” Carrie took it from him to keep it to her cheek.

“Okay, you need anything else?” He let her gather her knees up to her chest, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug again. He wished he knew how to comfort her, but she clearly needed her space.

“I’m okay, thank you,” she shook her head no and focused on slowing her breathing. It was hard with the mess in her head after everything that happened. She felt weak and pathetic, she had never been so vulnerable in front of someone, and maybe it was time she opened up but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.

“Is he still upstairs?” Anthony probed, trying to figure out what to do, at least for the immediate future.

“Probably,” Carrie shrugged, wiping tears out of her eyes.

“You can stay the night, I’ve got a spare bedroom.” He offered, written worry all over his face when she glanced up at him.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” she turned him down, but he wouldn’t let her leave when she wouldn’t be safe.

“Stop that,” he nudged her foot gently. “I’m not going to let you go back up there, just stay. Do you want tea? Chamomile is good for sleep,”

“Um, yeah, please,” Carrie gave in with a sigh. There was no point in fighting him, and deep down she knew he was right. Now that she had woken him she couldn’t leave and just let him worry.

“Be right back,” He put a hand on her knee as he got up and went to boil some water.

When he came back with both steaming mugs, Carrie had helped herself to the tissues on his coffee table to dry her tears and it looked like she had calmed down a little.

“Careful it’s really hot,” Anthony set the mug down in front of her.

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence after that. Anthony was done pushing, she was next to him and he was keeping her safe, he didn’t need more than that. The night had been traumatic enough for Carrie, so he didn’t want to add to it.

Small sips of burning liquid eventually turned to larger gulps of warm tea until both mugs sat empty on the table. Carrie had stopped shaking, and the heat of her drink had helped her warm up. The ice pack was mostly melted against her cheek now, but it was still cool and her cheek was burning underneath it.

“Wanna go to bed?” Anthony eventually whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. She stopped staring at the black screen of the TV to turn to him, nodding slightly.

The bed in the guest room was made, and the sheets still smelled like fresh laundry. Anthony looked into the mostly empty closet for a few things, and while Carrie slid under the covers he brought an extra blanket to lay on top of it.

She settled quietly, curled for extra warmth while the melted ice pack sat on the nightstand. Anthony took it as his cue to leave, but he stopped once he reached the door.

“Carrie?” He turned to look at her, a hand on the door knob.

“Yeah?” She wondered what else he was going to say, and her heart warmed when she heard his words spoken with unwavering certainty.

“I don’t care what I have to do, but I’m not going to let that happen again.”

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#anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier fic #tito beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier imagine #tito beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier fluff #tito beauvillier fluff #must have been the wind #alec benjamin #writing #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new york islanders

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tinyyoungblood · 4 years

Text

the novelty of lines | tom holland

summary: being trapped with your boyfriend in a bookstore can go many different ways. good and not so good. like getting hit on by a stranger. but does that really matter if tom knows exactly what to do?

pairing: tom holland x reader

word count: 2229

warnings: language, fluff

a/n: if this doesn’t get deleted again, i’ll buy everyone ice cream *laughs through the pain* sorry to anyone who might have already come across the first post:/ this is my first submission to @hollandsrecs ‘s 1k bingo writing event! go check out her amazing fic recs!

* * *

The echo of another thunder bellowed through the streets, making you shudder and lean into Tom for a sense of safety. His hand grazed your waist and you nuzzled yourself further into his body. “You okay?” You looked up to worried brown eyes and nodded once.

“I’ve always thought being stuck in a bookstore could be quite romantic. Turns out it has some Purge potential too.”

His chuckle conjured a small smile on your lips and you felt him trace tiny shapes into your skin. “Well, the rain does add something,” he said and you hummed. Letting go of your waist, you were turned to face him. “How about you go look for that book we came for, and I’ll go check out some new books they got in the back? We can meet in a few and when the storm is over, we can go grab some coffee. Sounds good?”

You nodded affirmatively and the twinkling in your eyes made his heart melt. “Add some baked goods and you got yourself a happy girlfriend.” Pressing a soft kiss on your lips, you both parted ways and with a fuzzy heart, you watched as Tom disappeared behind a shelf before you started your own quest of finding the newest book of your favorite author. Thanks to an abundance of afternoons spent in this place, you naturally navigated toward a table in the middle of the room that most likely contained what you were looking for—and your inner compass didn’t disappoint. It only took a few seconds until your gaze fell on the familiar name and a smile curved around your lips. Picking up the hardcover, you tugged a few strands of hair behind your ear and examined the paperback in awe.

Unbeknownst to you, your little gesture had caught the attention of a guy your age and invited him to come talk to you. It took you by surprise, but he was polite, so you let yourself have an easy five minutes conversation until he started to hit on you.

Tom was just rounding the corner again when he heard a familiar laugh. He immediately recognized your fake laugh and it made him stop in his tracks. Peering around the corner, his eyes landed on a guy chatting you up. Knowing exactly what was going to happen to the poor guy shooting his shot, he leaned against the wall to enjoy the show for a second.

“So what is a pretty thing like you doing here all by herself?” The guy asked with a smirk pestering his lips.

You eyed him and cocked your head to the side. “Where?”

Taken aback, he stared at you for a moment. “Uhm, you know, here.” He laughed awkwardly and Tom smiled to himself.

Acting like the light bulb over your head lit up, you replied, “Oh, you mean in Chicago?”

Tom had to stifle his laugh as the confused guy ran his hand through his hair. The interaction was painful to witness, but it brought up sweet memories. This was exactly what you did when the two of you had first met in London. You were in a coffee shop and Tom was hitting on you, hopefully, a bit smoother though, and in response, you acted slow and dull like you were doing at the moment. Tom, of course, saw right through and called you out on it. He remembered you only laughed and didn’t hesitate to call him out on his crap too, and that was the start of a beautiful friendship. It didn’t take long for you two to start dating after.

But in contrast to Tom, the guy didn’t seem to pick up on your way to cease the conversation and tried his last sprinkles of luck. “S-Sure…Are you here often?” He hinted and once more, you feigned confusion.

“You mean at the bookstore?”

For a second, you swore you saw his spirit left his body. But he was determined to keep going. “Chicago, bookstore, same thing, right?” He let out a forced laugh and you couldn’t help but smile amusedly. You did have to give him some credit for the effort.

“Hmm. I live in Chicago, so yeah.” His eyes lit up and you felt bad for leading him on, thus deciding to end this talk as fast as possible.

“Sweet, so chances are high that we will meet again…right?” He asked suggestively and you decided to top it off with the sweet cherry of obliviousness.

“No silly, I don’t live in the bookstore, so I guess the chances are pretty slim.” Tom’s eyes widened and he had to cup his mouth to silence his laugh. The guy stared at you dumbfounded and you were almost certain he would leave now. To your luck, that was not the case.

“You can always give me your address?” He tried again and that was Tom’s cue to walk up to you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he gave the baffled guy a meek smile.

“Sorry, pal. She lost the piece of paper that has her address on it.” Glancing to him with wide eyes, you forced a quizzical smile and Tom grinned back broadly. “Ready to go, darling?” You hummed and turned around to walk away. Looking over your shoulder again, you gave the guy an apologetic smile and lifted your shoulder in a shrug before wandering off with Tom.

When you were out of his earshot, you halted and pointed at the prominent smirk on your boyfriend’s face. “You asshole.” He pursed his lips amusedly.

“What a cute pet name.”

“You were listening to our conversation,” you accused and he shrugged.

“Possibly.”

You gasped and narrowed your eyes at him. The corner of your lips, however, quirked up and you had to hit his shoulder in response to his cocked brow. “You could’ve saved me earlier!”

Tom snickered. “But where’s the fun in that, darling?”

Pouting, you turned your back to him and feigned interest in some of the books displayed on the table in front of you. Suddenly, two arms snaked around your waist, and you were pulled backward, prompting you to squeal in surprise. “Tom!”

He whispered into your ear, “Shhh, I’m trying to be a romantic asshole right now.” He dragged you to the very back of the store where he usually spent most of his time, so you genuinely expected him to simply show you a new book he found. Just in his very dramatic own way. When he let you go and you were planted on steady feet again, you whipped around to face him.

“Not cool.” You jabbed your finger into his chest and he rolled his eyes at you.

Pecking your nose, he stepped aside and revealed a big purple velvet blanket placed neatly in the corner of the store. It was covered in mismatched pillows of all colors, and Tom watched carefully as your eyes widened—fairy lights reflecting in them. You stepped forward and picked up one of the two white mugs that carried the soft smell of hot chocolate. “Did you do this all by yourself?” You asked, your words laced with every inch of surprise you felt at the moment.

He nodded proudly. “Hannah didn’t mind, so I thought, why not make your romantic bookstore dreams come true.” He shrugged casually, but you could see that he was just as excited as you were. “You like it?”

You placed the mug on the ground and faced him. “Do I like—Tom, I love it! This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I still can’t believe it.” Your eyes were twinkling with joy, resembling a starry night sky, and he couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. Softly pulling you forward, you pressed your lips on his and the sweet taste made his heart flutter. You pressed him closer and closer, fingers threading through his soft curls while his hands roamed your sides. Gently pulling away again, you giggled at the dreamy look on his face and grabbed his hand. Once the two of you were seated on the soft blanket, hidden away from the rest of the store due to the big shelves, you were quick to bring the mug up to your lips to get a taste.

Mirroring your action, a strong swirl of chocolate enveloped Tom’s tongue and spread warmth down his throat. You moaned at the sweetness and let your head fall back. “This is too good.” Tom agreed and picked up the book you were still holding in your hand. Reading through the synopsis on the back, a small smile edged around his lips and you giggled. “Tom, that’s a thriller about a guy who goes on a killing spree. Why are you grinning like a psycho?”

He let out a brief laugh. “I’m not laughing because of the book.” He tossed it on your lap. “I just can’t stop thinking about how you did the exact same thing when we first met. You know, with the acting slow.”

The fact that he remembered made you smile and you lifted your shoulder in a half shrug. “I do it with everybody who hits on me.”

“Like a bit?” He asked curiously and took another sip from his mug.

You cocked your head to the side and thought about it. “Kinda. You really have no other choice when guys come up to you with the dumbest lines. It’s a default setting.”

Feigning offense, he slapped his hand on his chest. “I beg to differ! I did not say a dumb line.”

“Probably not the dumbest line I’ve heard.” You brought the mug up to your lips. “But very dumb nonetheless.” Tom furrowed his brows and pouted at you, making you giggle. “Do you remember what you said?”

His gaze averted to the ground for a second, but he shook his head. “No…But it couldn’t have been any dumber than what he said.” Tom jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and you grinned.

“If only you knew…” you trailed off teasingly and he leaned forward.

“What was it?”

You hummed and shrugged playfully, making him grab your mug and set it aside with his own. “Y/N Y/L/N, tell me how I made a fool of myself the day we met.” You had to bit your bottom lip to cease the smile, but that gave Tom the last push to lean forward and tackle you to the ground, fingers attacking your sides and the sound of your laughter seeped through the quiet bookstore.

“T-Tom! S-stop it—Tom, I mean i-it,” you coaxed out and Tom leaned down to your ear.

“Are you going to tell me what I said to you that day?” Reluctantly, you nodded. His hands left your side and you sat up while the last bits of your hysteria died down. Dramatically wiping away some tears, you shuffled forward and placed your arms on his shoulder to lock your fingers behind his head. His eyes locked with yours and he waited in anticipation as you fought with your lopsided grin. You cleared your throat for suspense.

“On the day we met, you came to my booth, and sat down. Then you looked me straight in the eye and asked me Are you from England? ‘Cause I can really see a queen in you.”

You watched as Tom internally broke down from the crippling cringe. He was blushing madly and the tip of his ears were bloodshot red, making you giggle and press a quick kiss on his warm cheek. When you wanted to pull away, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe I said that,” he mumbled and you laughed.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It could’ve been way worse.” He leaned back to look at you.

“Oh yeah? How? I can’t see a way to outdo that. It’s really bad, I’m surprised you didn’t die of a stroke that day.”

“Bet. Harrison once came up to me all excited to read me a pickup line he found on Buzzfeed. I think it went My dick is called Big Ben. And you know where you'll find it. And then he just giggled and ran away.”

Tom broke out laughing. At this point, you were sure people must have thought you two were crazy but you didn’t mind. “Oh my god, what did you tell him?” He reached out to your waist as you turned around to lean your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your figure and you sighed contently.

“Well, he was already halfway across the yard, but I told him afterward that it’s a great line and that he should use it sometime at the pub. I think he actually did.”

Tom’s chest vibrated against your back as the sweet sound of his laughter swept you off the ground. Seeing him this happy was everything to you and you closed your eyes for a second, just to open them again right after to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. Spending an afternoon trapped in a bookstore with your boyfriend during a thunderstorm sounded like it came straight from a novel, but apparently, you lived inside your own novel and within it, you were allowed to dream as much as you wished.

* * *

it’s been a while since my last one shot, so i hope this makes up for it! hope you enjoyed it and if you did, feel free to leave some feedback. thank you as always for reading! have a wonderful day/night peeps <3

taglist: @honeypie-holland @himarisolace @duskholland @insidiousslut @siriuslyslyslytherin @hollandsrecs @quaksonhehe @chloecreatesfictions @writertoo18

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #hrficbingo1k #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you

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waveypedia · 3 years

Text

The Real Deal

Ao3

Lena comes to the Nine-Tailed Diner just often enough for the waiters to know her face, but not often enough for them to know her name. She prefers it that way. The anonymity is comforting, but she knows in her gut it’s just an illusion when the waiters give her familiar smiles as she slides into her usual spot in the corner.

There was a time, before she met Webby, when Lena would scowl and duck her head away from the waiters’ friendly greetings. Where the mere notion of being noticed would make her gut churn and blood boil.

Not anymore.

Lena taps her carefully manicured nails against the smooth table as she waits, watching the cozily bustling diner. She’s not usually one for nail polish, but Dewey was just so excited when he saw the color that perfectly matched her magic, and despite her snarky exterior she couldn’t say no to Dewey’s infectious excitement when he bounced up to her with the bottles of nail polish. She smiles at the memory.

If Lena from a year and a half ago could see her now, she’d be unrecognizable. That’s not such a bad thing, Lena muses.

She pulls out her phone and quickly scrolls through social media, smiling when a picture of Webby pops up on her feed. Webby doesn’t post much, but when she does, just seeing her face never fails to make Lena smile.

The noise of the city and the harbor outside eventually fades into a calming white noise in the back of Lena’s mind. She’s used to the city. It was her home for fifteen years. But the sound of a particular car pulling up to the curb jerks Lena out of her thoughts, and she presses her face to the window, filled with an almost childlike glee.

A familiar car, light green and blocky and just as eccentric as its owner, putters at the curb. Lena can only see into the drivers’ side, but she snorts as she spots a familiar stupid-looking hat and chuckles to herself. Soon enough, a familiar face pops out from the other side of the car, looks to the corner window expectantly, and waves enthusiastically. Lena grins and waves back.

The bell on the diner door jingles, right on schedule, and Lena’s friend nearly sprints over to her booth.

“Hi, Lena!” Boyd chirps, and Lena grins.

“Hi,” she responds, significantly less energetic but with the same sentiment behind it.

Every month, Lena and Boyd meet at the Nine-Tailed Diner, just the two of them. It started one day when it was supposed to be all of the kids, but the McDuck kiddos were called away on an adventure, Violet had a school project, and Gosalyn was busy in St. Canard. It doesn’t take a genius to recognize how similar Lena and Boyd’s unique situations and backstories are.

Lena didn’t realize how lonely she was until she had someone who shared her experiences.

Boyd rubs at his elbow. It’s a nervous stim, and Lena’s attention is piqued. If Gyro said something insensitive to him again, well, he may be tall, but he’s a skinny twink, I can take him—

“Lena?”

Lena bites back a swell of nervousness and feigns casualness. “Hm?”

“How… do you feel about Webby?”

Lena blinks. “Well, I like her. You know that, dummy.”

“Yeah, but… how does that feel? You know… liking someone?” Boyd won’t meet her eyes.

Lena frowns. “What do you mean? Doesn’t everyone feel that way?”

Boyd stares at the table, lip trembling, and Lena ponders.

She doesn’t entirely know how to describe how she feels about Webby. Before Webby, it was just her and Aunt Magica. The two of us against the world, Lena always told herself, but it was always the world against Aunt Magica, with Lena sandwiched in the middle. And then she grew to hate Magica as well, like she always should have. For so long, Lena only knew hatred and apathy, whoever it may be directed to.

And then she met Webby.

And then she met Webby, and everything changed.

Webby was—is—a literal ray of sunshine. When Webby’s smiling face pops up in Lena’s view, when her bubbling laugh or high voice makes Lena’s heart sing. It’s stereotypical and cliché beyond belief, much to Lena’s chagrin, but that’s how she feels . If Huey offered her a thesaurus he must have stored in his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook somewhere (that thing has everything — it’s kind of ridiculous, honestly) she wouldn’t change it. There’s no other way to describe it.

“I… don’t know,” Lena hums. “Just… whenever I see her, I instantly feel better. It’s free serotonin, y’know?”

Boyd hums in acknowledgement, and after a moment of semi-awkward silence Lena continues.

She’s never been all that good about putting her feelings into words. She’s not particularly wordy like Huey, and she doesn’t have Violet’s extensive vocabulary (although she’s picked up quite a few words and phrases from the Sabrewing family). Not that she cares about it. It makes these kind of conversations difficult, though. But for Boyd, she will try.

“She was the first person to ever care about me,” Lena muses, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized sweater under the table. She’s had it forever. It feels like home, in the same way Webby does. “She has a special place in my heart. She was my first friend, but it’s different than my relationship with the boys, or Vi, or you.”

Boyd nods and avoids her gaze. He’s unhappy with that conclusion, although Lena can’t fathom why.

“So… by that logic,” Boyd begins, “I should be in love with Huey, right?”

Lena shrugs. It is true that Huey directly parallels Webby in their respective situations. “However you want to define it, dude.”

Boyd flexes his fingers. He’s still unhappy.

“Look, I’m not gonna judge you,” Lena says, snorting slightly and raising her hands placatingly in front of her. “I know homophobia is A Thing, but I literally just talked extensively about how I’m head over heels for another girl, so…”

“Homophobia is terrible,” Boyd responds finally. “I genuinely do not understand how people could think such a thing! How does one act so cruelly to another just because of something so trivial as sexual orientation?”

Lena presses her lips together. “Beats me, dude.”

After a moment, she adds, “So what’s your problem, then?”

Boyd’s head jerks up. “Huh?”

“You’re clearly disappointed about something ,” Lena says, gesturing with her arms and raising her eyebrows. “I know you well enough, ‘cause of these dumb meetings. I’m just gonna point out they were your idea.”

Boyd smirks, ever so slightly. “You love them, though.”

Lena looks away and crosses her arms pointedly, but allows the smallest of smiles to slip through her mask. Boyd cackles at that.

“But seriously. What’s botherin’ you?”

“By all accounts… I should feel that way about Huey. I don’t care about genders, and I feel differently about him than I feel about you and the other kids. But saying I love him, it just doesn’t feel right.” Boyd rubs at his arm.

“Hey, that’s fine!” Lena replies. “That’s kinda how I feel about labels, y’know? Webby likes ‘em, but I don’t.” She narrows her eyes and leans forward with her elbows on the table. “Is Huey pressuring you? ‘Cause if he is I’ll—”

“No! Nononono, Lena, it’s fine,” Boyd chuckles nervously, raising his hands placatingly in front of him. “If anything, I guess I’m pressuring myself. Logically, based on all accounts I have consulted, I should be in love. But…”

Lena gives an exaggeratedly frustrated sigh, making Boyd chuckle despite himself.

“Look, Pink tells me aaaaalll the time that my magic isn’t logical. Especially friendship magic. It follows its own rules, and it’s about looove and the power of friendship or whatever. So cheesy. But I guess your love might be the same thing.”

Lena takes a deep breath and leans back in the diner booth. “Stop pushing your feelings into dumb little boxes they don’t belong in. They won’t fit.”

Boyd smiles at her, small but not muted. “Thanks, Lena.”

Lena glances away, staring pointedly out the window. “Whatever. Don’t expect it to happen again.”

Boyd just giggles at that. His laughter is frustratingly infectious, and after a moment Lena finds herself chuckling alongside him.

The rest of the afternoon flits by, and for the life of her Lena cannot recall what they talked about. But their first topic of conversation, and Boyd’s worry, sits heavy on her mind for a while to come.

When Doctor (unofficially, shh, if the news got out that he had never finished his doctorate because of those ridiculous geese Gyro would be ruined ) Gyro Gearloose secured a job with McDuck Industries, he did not expect his precious lab would be run afoot by small children. Not even by Fenton, who acts more like a small child than some of these literal small children sometimes.

It’s almost closing time, but that has never mattered to McDuck Industries’ research branch. Even if Fenton and Manny go home eventually, Gyro has spent weeks on end in the lab. He will outlast them all.

Well, he used to. Before his team and his boss dragged him out to see the sunlight. And before Boyd.

For the record, Gyro did not forget about closing time. Not this time. He was working with that infernal little rodent, who, along with the blue nephew, had somehow wormed Mr. McDuck into allowing her to take some freelance work in the research department. Gyro’s department.

...He did have to admit that Gadget Hackwrench was frustratingly proficient at mechanics and machinery. Especially since she was so small. She was a great help to Gyro’s newest project, which required a lot of rough mechanical know-how.

Gadget, unlike the rest of them, was not incredibly self-sacrificial and actually liked clocking out when she was supposed to. She had to go home to her Rescue Avengers, or whatever they were called. Gyro couldn’t wrap his head around her way of thinking.

So they were tinkering away at the panel of the machine when Gadget glanced at the clock and reminded him of her obligations. She was packing up when Boyd came in.

“Dr. Gearloose!” Boyd, chipper as ever, entered the lab and bounced up to Gyro’s workstation. He was a bundle of energy, reminiscent of the blue and pink children. His hands darted around him like a hummingbird, never quite staying in one place long enough for Gyro’s tired brain to process. After a minute of unconsciously trying to watch and comprehend it, Gyro glanced away and rubbed at his forehead under his glasses while Boyd greeted Gadget with the same enthusiasm.

Wait. Was it really enthusiasm?

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Gyro watched carefully as Boyd flitted around Gadget, mentally comparing his movements and stims with what he knew of happy Boyd. And yes. It was off.

Gadget packed up, and Gyro slowly but carefully placed his wrench down and turned to face Boyd, leaning against his desk in a facade of casualness.

“So.”

“Can you fix me?”

Gyro pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did you do?”

Boyd clasps his hands nervously in front of him. “No. No. Nothing! I just… I know how I’m supposed to feel, but I don’t feel like that! So I must be broken!”

Gyro stares at Boyd like he’s grown a second head —- which, with Gyro’s robotics, is actually plausible. “Pft, you’re not broken. You think you could be broken?! I made you, kid. I fixed you up after Akita tampered with you. The great Gyro Gearloose does not make mistakes.”

Manny taps something unsupportive, and Fenton and Gadget both —- purposefully badly —- hide their laughter. Gyro screeches something incomprehensible at them. It doesn’t matter what he says; the point gets across.

Boyd is still staring up at Gyro, with that hero-worship puppy-dog look in his eyes that he wears so well, and he looks so scared that Gyro’s heart twists. His body sags, and he sighs and rolls his eyes and gestures for Boyd to follow. He perks up, and is immediately at Gyro’s heels with a characteristic grin, but his hands are trembling. Did he teach himself to do that?

Gyro kneels in front of Boyd, behind his desk, and stares into his eyes. Not in a symbolic way —- if he focuses just right, he can see the circuitry in his head.

Gyro purses his lips. “Everything looks fine. I told you I don’t make mistakes.”

“But—- But Lena’s in love with Webby and Dewey’s had three crushes in the past month and I don’t feel anything like that, ever! Lena says it’s fine but she’s had one girlfriend and that worked out for her perfectly and I’m happy for her and Webby, I really am, but I don’t know how to make it work for me and it must be some sort of error in the programming and I—-I just want to be a real boy!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Gyro shoves his hands in front of him reflexively. He pulls them back, out of Boyd’s face, when he processes and realizes how overwhelming that gesture could be. Boyd buries his face in his hands. “You are a real boy.”

Boyd gives him a tiny nod and doesn’t respond. Gyro’s throat feels tight and constricting, bile building up inside. He wants to say something and break the tension and silence, but he doesn’t know what or how.

“Love isn’t everything,” he says lamely after a minute. “I didn’t fall in love until Fenton, honestly. Not for real. Della said something about ‘demiromanticism,’ whatever the hell that is, and she says Mr. McDuck is the same way, but honestly I don’t really care. I don’t need to compartmentalize and hyper-analyze every aspect of myself that way. But if you want to, you could talk to her. Or the red nephew. He’d know.”

It’s weird, being this open and honest about his thoughts and feelings that aren’t inventions and blueprints. A part of Gyro is screaming at himself to close, shutter the windows and pull the walls back up and raise the prickly spikes to defend against anyone who dares get close. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, really.

Strike that. He knows why. It’s Boyd . He’ll do anything to bring that kid’s sunny disposition back. And he knows why he’ll do that, too.

“Demiromanticism?” Boyd places a finger on his chin and tilts his head ever so carefully to the side, testing out the feel of the word. “What’s that?”

Gyro shrugs lazily. “I dunno. Some fancy way of saying I only want a relationship with people who get close to me. Which is a very exclusive circle.”

Boyd pauses. Blinks. Gyro can nearly see the wheels turning in his head. “If there’s a term for that, do you think… there’s a term for going all the way? A term for never wanting a relationship?”

Gyro raises his eyebrows. “Probably.” He reaches for his phone. Boyd could search for it in his internal search engine (proudly programmed by Gyro two months ago, since search engines didn’t exist twenty years ago, but for the record if he had thought of it Akita hadn’t had him on such a tight schedule he could have done it. For the record.)

“Aromanticism,” Gyro muses, reading out loud. “The lack of romantic attraction. Does that sound about right?”

“Hmm,” Boyd puts his finger to his chin again. “It fits! I like it!”

Gyro smiles, that soft and gentle smile reserved exclusively for Boyd (and Fenton, sometimes). “Perfect. Now get out of my lab. It’s past closing time.”

Boyd sticks out his tongue, playful. “Like you care. Don’t stay up too late!”

Gyro just smiles in response and resolves himself to not make any promises he won’t keep.

Boyd gives him a quick, tight hug goodbye. He always gives hugs, to say hello and goodbye and everything inbetween, and Gyro is never quite prepared for them, although he certainly doesn’t mind them. Gyro isn’t very comfortable with touch or affection in general when it doesn’t come from a select few people, but he never protests. Boyd is one of those “select few people”.

If today’s hug is a bit tighter and longer than usual (but still brief, since Boyd knows well how Gyro clams up with physical affection, even if it’s from him, and he respects that), neither Boyd nor Gyro say a word.

Boyd says his goodbyes to the rest of Team Science (Gadget is long gone by now) and skips out of the room. “I can’t wait to tell Huey about this! He probably knows all about aromanticism! It’s probably in his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook!”

Gyro leans against his desk, the cuffs of his shirt catching on the corners. “You do that, kid.”

“And Lena! She’ll be happy to know I figured it out, even if she won’t say so!” Boyd chirps. “Thanks, Dr. Gearloose!”

Gyro’s wry smile turns into something monumentally more sincere and real. “No problem, kid.”

The elevator dings and Boyd is gone. Gyro used to revel in the lab’s silence, but even with the background noise of Fenton, Manny, and Lil’ Bulb tinkering away at their respective projects (and decidedly not saying anything), it feels uncomfortably quiet without Boyd’s incessant chatter.

He hums softly to himself and picks up his phone to call Della before she hears about this from Huey and berates him for not telling her right away. He puts on a new pot of coffee for when he comes back, and lets Fenton know he’s going on his break.

“You know the workday technically ended half an hour ago, right? You don’t need me to clock you out,” Fenton replies, grinning. He can read Gyro like a book.

Gyro rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath, but waves his former intern off.

As he walks out, he pictures Boyd. He would be sitting in the limo, brimming with excitement, tapping his fingers eagerly on his legs with barely contained enthusiasm. Launchpad picked him up for a sleepover at Mr. McDuck’s, so by this point he should be almost home. He’ll burst into the mansion and spill his discovery to Huey before he catches his breath, and he, Huey, Webby, and Violet will make a board and a list of thoughts and information on aromanticism while Dewey tries to catch popcorn in his mouth and Lena and Louie add snarky comments. They’ll all chime in with their own experiences and eat lots of sugary snacks until they eventually fall asleep in a pile of pillows and blankets and each other on the living room couch. Boyd will come into the lab on Monday and tell him all about it, and maybe Huey will as well.

Gyro smiles fondly to himself as he steps into the hallway outside of the lab and leans against the wall, pulling up Della’s contact on his phone. The tab on aromanticism is still open on his phone, and he scrolls through it idly, taking note of all the information and how it could relate to Boyd.

He’s not fit for this role in Boyd’s life. But he loves Boyd, so he’ll do his best. And Dr. Gyro Gearloose’s best is a feat they tell tales of.

Across town, in the mansion, sitting on her sleeping bag in her pajamas and sneaking handfuls of gummy bears behind Violet’s watchful eye, Lena shares a similar sentiment. Boyd explains what he’s learned, bursting with excited energy in the form of overenthusiastic gestures, and Lena wonders why this little, enthusiastic kid decided to choose her as a sister figure.

But she’s not complaining.

Lena sneaks another handful of gummies and wraps her arm around Webby, who makes a bright, contented sound and snuggles into her side. No, she’s definitely not complaining.

i wrote this almost a year ago actually, for the Because We're Family LGBTQuaranzine! (@ducktaleslgbtquaranzine) This is a nonprofit pay-what-you-want zine, with all of the money going to DirectRelief, a charity dedicated to Covid relief in countries that have been hit hard by it. I had a lot of fun working on this zine and this particular piece, and I worked with a lot of great people. The zine is chock-full of amazing pieces and really talented, skilled people, and all the proceeds go to a reputable cause. I cannot recommend it enough!

this piece is pretty close to my heart because it encompasses a lot of my favorite things - weblena, lena & boyd friendship (they have SO many parallels i think they would get along so well!), and gyro being a father to boyd! in all honesty, this was my very first zine and i was really nervous, but i had so much fun writing this and i'm grateful it was such a good experience!

a lot of boyd's confusion about aromanticism is taken straight from my self-realization process. that's some good ole projection, baybee! i didn't have anyone like huey, but it's certainly difficult to figure out what romantic love really is and how that affects you and your relationships. it's like a puzzle. it's not explicitly mentioned in the fic, but i'm autistic, and boyd is pretty heavily autistic-coded (and god i could go on for hours about that, and i have before, but i'll spare you all the tangent, although i'll happily talk about it if you want me to), which adds this whole other obstacle when figuring out aromanticism, because we struggle with social relationships and fitting them in boxes. sometimes labels feel really comforting and satisfactory, but sometimes it's a real puzzle to fit into these boxes that weren't always made for us. sometimes they fit, and sometimes they don't. it was pretty fun exploring that from a slightly different perspective, as well as putting some of my own thoughts and experiences into words.

if you ever wanna talk ducktales, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here or on my twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a like/reblog/comment (i read tags) if you enjoyed it!

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yeahimaloser · 4 years

Text

Oh, To Be In Love 3

part 3

Hawks and you are the best of friends, but little do both of you know how in love you two really are.

Hi! I’m really sorry I haven’t posted as often, a lot has happened in my personal life.

But! I feel better so I made another chapter!

Warnings: none

Word count: 1935

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hawks flew through the open air. The wind flowed through his feathers as he beat his wings in a fast and precise manner.

He looked down to see people looking up at him and pointing, no doubt in awe by the hero. He smiled to himself, and did a few mid-air tricks for the kids down below. Seeing their adorable smiles beaming up at him.

This was one of the many things that made him proud to be a hero, seeing the civilians look up to him. To let him inspire them to do better. To see the little kids look up at him in awe.

He looked down at his watch and his eyes widened, he was 5 minutes late.

You had lechtered him before about this, and he didn’t want that to happen again. For one, he hated lectures. And two, he hated letting you down.

But then he heard a scream.

He wiped his head and scoffed, a convenience store was being robbed.

What kind of hero would he be if he didn’t stop to take care of a simple robbery?

He had to stop and take care of the robbery, but he sure as hell wasn’t happy about it

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Hawks stopped on the rooftop of the restaurant that you two always met at.

There were very few places that would be discreet about a hero and a friend meeting for lunch. If this was just a normal restaurant, the paparazzi would have been alerted right away.

But a few of his sidekicks told him about this place, where if you paid the right people the right amount, you could eat without fear of the media breathing down your neck.

He was a little tired, but overall, very excited to see you.

he stopped to remind himself, he was just your friend. And he was totally fine with that.

He waved to one of the waitresses who recognized him, “The table nearest the window, that's where Y/N is.”

He smiled at her, “Thank you so much!”

He strode over to you, but paused for a moment when he saw you.

You were anxiously tapping your foot, looking out the window. The sun hitting your face made you look even more stunning than you already are. Your eyes shown in the light, you face practically basking in it. He hated how you made his heart feel, hated the way he wanted to just tell you how he truly felt. But he also couldn’t stay away from you, you were just that intoxicating.

He gulped down his feelings, and counted to make his way over to you.

“Ok, ok, ok, I’m sorry for being late. But hero business ya know,” Hawks said, shrugging.

You gave him a smirk, “Yeah I figured. So I already ordered for the both of us.”

Hawks gave you a smile, “Dove, you are the best!”

Hawks sat down across from you, still smiling.

As he did, the food came out, obviously you had ordered him the chicken.

“But seriously, I thought you were supposed to be the fastest hero. So why are you always late to these things?” You asked.

He shrugged, “I’m not always late. Your overexerting, and besides, being a hero comes first to the general public. Believe me, I always try to be on time, the universe just has other plans.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“So anyways about the guy..” you said ominously.

He physically felt his heart sink into his stomach. But he refused to let his smile falter, even if he felt like curling up into a ball.

“Oh yeah! How did it go? What did he say?” He asked.

You just sighed, “Ugh, I told him I didn’t want to go out with him.”

That's when Hawkses smile fluttered from his expression. He genuinely wasn't expecting that, he was ready for you to tell him how happy you were. He was expecting you to forget about him and move on. He was expecting to lose one more thing he loved.

But here you were, telling him how you didn’t go out with the guy. Giving him a glimmer of hope.

“Why,” he didn’t mean to blurt it out, he was just so confused, “Sorry! I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but why? You have nothing to lose by getting into a relationship.”

You looked down at your water, swerling it with your straw, “Yeah, I know. But it's just,” you let out another sigh, “I don’t know, he just wasn't all that. He was mediocre at best. And I just didn’t want to settle, you know?”

As you looked back up at him, he felt his stomach flutter, “Yeah, I definitely agree. You could probably have anyone you want.”

You rolled your eyes, “yeah ok, what about you, your all the news outlets talk about. They say you're quite the playboy.”

Hawks wanted to wince, he hated those lies. He really didn’t go out on dates very often, he was just so busy and always in the public's eye. It was just always unfair because he really did want to find someone. But with his supposed reputation it just made it so much more difficult. Not to mention the fact that he was a busy hero.

But he supposed he wouldn’t have minded the rumors if you didn’t believe them. But in reality did it even matter? You and him could never happen, so why was he so upset?

But he just laughed it off, “Na, no ones catching my eye I guess! And besides, I’m not a playboy,”

“Ok,” you said, “but you could have anyone you want.”

Not really, I can’t have you.

“Hmm, maybe, but na. Too busy I guess,” he said.

“Mhmmmm, ok birdboy. Anyways, I don’t really know why I don’t wanna date anyone, i guess I’m just picky,” you laughed. “I mean, if he’s not as funny, cool, and kind as my best friend then why would I want to date him?” You went back to lazaly stirring your water with your straw, not looking at him.

Which he was very glad about, considering the fact that a light blush dusted his checks.

He really didn’t expect that. What did that mean? Were you just being nice? Or were your intentions deeper…

He tried to make himself less flustered, “Haha, what do you even mean? I’m always late to our hangouts, I cancel things all the time, and I always have new cuts and bruises that make you supper worried about me. If you want my opinion, you should try to find someone who’s not like me, birdy.”

You chuckled, “Yeah, your right. But still,” you looked back up at him, your eyes stunning in the sunlight, “your an amazing person, Hawks, so why would I want a person to date me if they're less than you? My goal is to find a person that's so much better than you, that you’ll end up being so jealous you hang out with me more.”

I’ll be jealous of anyone you date that's not me.

Hawks laughed, “Wow Y/N, you're so mean to me. And here I was thinking you thought I was so perfect. But what? You wanna make me jealous? That sounds a little much.”

You giggled, “Your so dumb. Maybe if I cancel plans to go on dates you would actually come on time.”

“Oh how you wound me!”

You really do.

In reality, if that did ever happen he would probably get jealous. But that's why he kept you at arm's length right? For that very situation?

“So really, no ones catching your eye? I mean, you're surrounded by models, beautiful heros, and just amazing people in general. And you're telling me you don’t like anyone?” you quirked an eyebrow at him.

He smiled and shook his head, “No, really I don’t wanna date anyone. I’m way too busy and plus, those models and beautiful people are so fake,” he looked down at his food, picking at it, “All they want is money, status and just tacky shit. If I want a relationship, I want it to be real. I want to love someone so much that I’ll do anything for them. I want a relationship where we cook meals together, I want a relationship where we just eat ice cream at night and watch dumb movies together. I just want something real I guess.”

He looked up at you, your expression was one of shook.

“Wow Hawks, I never thought of you as someone so romantic,” your hand crossed the table, you grabbed his hand. The warmth of it made him lean into his touch. “You deserve all that. You deserve a real, loving relationship,” you smiled at him, “Your gonna make someone so happy. I can’t wait to see who you decide is worthy of all your love. I can tell you're gonna choose someone that you deserve.”

He gave you a smile, “Thanks Dove, I appreciate it. And, I think so too.”

Good thing I already have.

You rolled your eyes, “Why do we like the bird nicknames so much? Most of the time they totally suck.”

Hawks fained offense, “I thought Dove was cute! And your the one who calls me ‘birdboy’ so don't act all innocent!”

You laughed, “Because your reactions are so cute!”

“My reactions? You're the one with the cute reactions!”

You two just kept laughing for a bit.

This was what he loved about you, you just made him happy. Even you just making fun of him made him happy. He just… just loved you. There was no way to get around it, all he wanted was to hear your laugh for ages.

But that's when his work phone went off.

As much as he loved being a hero, times like these made him hate it.

He gave you an apologetic look, he really didn’t want to leave you. He wanted to stay and talk to you for hours if he could. He wanted to see your smile and hear your laugh.

“I’m really sorry Y/N, but if they're calling me on my lunch break it must be serious,” his tone was sincere and sad.

He stood up and you stood with him, “Please Hawks, don’t worry. You have an important job,” you walked closer to him. “Just.. Just promise me you’ll be safe?”

He smiled at you, “I promise you Chicky, and I promise I’ll kick some ass.”

You giggled.

And then you kissed his cheek.

If you could hear his heart you might have thought that he was practically having a heart attack. But could you blame him? Your soft, yet firm lips on his cheek just made him all mushy and soft on the inside.

When you pulled away he almost wanted to say, ‘to hell with it,’ and just kiss your right there. To feel your touch again, to feel your lips against his. That’s all he wanted in the moment.

But he stoped himself.

He blushed pink, trying to hide it he rubbed his cheek, “Aww, giving me a good luck kiss? Thanks Dove, be careful yourself ok?”

You rolled your eyes, but your face seemed a little flushed as well, “yeah, yeah, just go birdboy.”

He chucked, moving to open up the window. Another reason he loved this restaurant was because they were fine with him leaving through the windows.

But before he left, he turned to see you leaving. But you too turned around to look back at him.

He gave you a reasering smile, and whispered under his breath,

“See you, my dove.”

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It’s done!!!

I hope you guys liked it!

#bnha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #mha keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #mha fanfiction

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

“i love you.” read: 6:45 pm.

drabble inspired by this post that @hobi-gif tagged me in. i'm a sucker for misunderstandings, y'know? also, this is unedited and not proofread. xoxo

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. general. tags. a bit of dumb angst due to misunderstandings, some fluff to make up for it, mentions of drinking/alcohol, idiots in love. idk. wc. 1.9k.

“So, you’re shooting bourbon at 7:30 on a Wednesday why, exactly?”

How Yoongi manages to keep the judgment out of his voice, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s a bartender thing - some skill you acquire over time, like an achievement in a video game.

Charisma: +30 Listening: +20 Interest: 0

“Because he replied ‘hella’ when I told him I was in love with him.” You think if it weren’t so funny (and embarrassing and bruising to your ego), you’d have a hard time repeating it. Instead, it cuts off the edge of your teeth in a melodramatic wail and you knock back your fourth shot in not very long at all. It burns on the way down, igniting your insides in a very different way than you’d like.

Luckily, the bar is packed - it’s freshman night! - and your cry is lost in the crowd, eaten up by the awful din that seems to only exist in college bars. It’s only you and your favourite bartender that hear it and for that you’re grateful.

“You’re not serious.” From the look on his face, you know he believes you. Has to, because he knows the culprit behind your heartache.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” You deadpan before waving your liquor-laden wrist in a lazy circle. “Another, bar wench!”

It’s not that funny but between the alcohol that’s buzzing in your veins and lighting you up like a goddamn Christmas log to the humiliation that’s burning its way through all your sensibilities— well, you can’t help it.

You’ve always resorted to humour when you were hurting.

“I think you should slow down.” He means well - you can see it in the narrowing of his eyes, the way his mouth tilts just enough to make you feel like a kid in front of the principal - but you don’t want well. You want more. Need it.

For a split second, you feel a wave of emotion. It crests and threatens to swallow you whole, dragging you seven thousand miles beneath your own misery.

You swallow it down as best you can, tasting salt water and the sea when you tug a rough hand through your hair. It aches a little where your rings catch, threading silver through silk. “Yoongi, c’mon.” You ignore the way his name slurs out of your mouth, trapped between wet lips that don’t quite move like they should. “I’m fine. Please.” The desperate edge to your plea tells him enough - that you’re well on your way to having too good of a night, inebriation playing at the sidelines of your vision. You play it off and shift in your seat, sneakered feet kicking this way and that to right yourself.

To his trained eye, you’re about two minutes from slipping backwards off the worn leather stool.

“Can I call someone at least?” He’s meeting you halfway, begrudging and a little worried.

“I’m fine!” It shoots off your tongue, a rocket to the moon. You don’t want to come down.

He sighs once, a sharp inhale of breath through his nose. He’s got that look on his face - the one that tells you you’re going to owe him one. You think that might be better than returning to your dorm, empty-handed and heavy hearted.

“Please?”

Amber liquid finds itself in your shot glass again and you’re quick to snatch it up, worried that Yoongi might dump it the moment he has a chance to consider how he’s indulging you. You swallow it greedily, as if it isn’t pooling uncomfortable heat everywhere it hits - down your throat and around the sides of your mouth.

“Take it easy,” comes a voice - an achingly, devastatingly familiar voice - to your left. It steals your breath - tugs it out of your lungs in the same instant your heart heaves out of your chest.

Jeon Jungkook’s grinning that megawatt smile at you, dimples on full display. His hair’s a little damp and more than a little messed up, sweeping across his forehead in that way that makes you want to run your fingers through it. Shoulders are swathed in soft cotton and plaid, the navy blue and grey pattern a stark contrast to the blinding white of his tee shirt.

He looks so good you want to eat him up.

Instead, you jolt like you’re about to lose the contents of your stomach.

Hands - both his and yours - dart out. Yours grip the sticky booze-stained bartop; his seize your elbows, steadying you easily. You try to ignore the way his palms burn heat across your skin.

“You okay?” He says it so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just shattered your hopes and dreams into a million little pieces less than an hour ago. He says it like he always does, with affection painting his words and stars in his eyes. Even in the dim light, they’re mesmerizing, constellations swirling in his irises.

You have to make a conscious effort to tear your gaze away, redirecting your - admittedly fuzzy - stare to the speck of lint on his collar. It honestly doesn’t help much, because like this, you can see the trail of ink that drifts past his neckline. Swirls of black work that make up the roses that span his shoulders, capping each segment of bone prettily.

He repeats himself when your silence stretches too long for his liking, a tattooed finger rising to tap gently along the ridge of your jaw, thumb sweeping just so across your chin. “Hey, baby. You good?”

A part of you wants to live in the way that sounds. You’re a sucker for pet names and while you’ve heard this one once or twice (or a hundred times), it coils itself like a cobra around the organ in your chest, poised to ruin you. One wrong move and you’d be paralyzed on the ground.

“What’re you doing here?” You finally manage, tearing your roving eyes from the patterns you know lie beneath cloth.

It’s not the smartest move - because you’re distracted by his stupid handsome face again.

“Well, you didn’t answer my text so I got worried. Checked your Snapchat and saw you were here.” It comes so nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just discovered you drowning your sorrows in cheap whiskey.

“I didn’t answer your text?”

You can see Yoongi lingering at the edge of your periphery, hand paused around a glass that he’s in the middle of passing off. You wonder how crazy you must sound, or if you do at all. Maybe just pathetic? You don’t want to think about it too hard.

“You said ‘hella’ to my confession! What am I supposed to say back to that?”

“What’re you talking about?” It’s Jungkook’s turn to take the title of village idiot, big doe eyes widening to the size of saucers. You want to smack the expression off his face - would, too, if your heart didn’t also clench pitifully at the thought of hurting him.

You think he might be backtracking when he retreats a hairsbreadth, releasing you in the same moment his other hand dives into the front of his too-tight black jeans. The denim strains against his thighs, muscle and sinew flexing when he transfers his weight enough to allow him to yank his phone out of his pocket. Said device is in your face in the next instant, glaringly bright screen making you shy away.

Who the hell kept their brightness at 100%?

“Hey - look at this.” He sounds stern as he continues to wave the sleek black iPhone before your eyes, seemingly unaware of the fact that you can’t damn well see a thing with him constantly moving it.

“Stop!” You snap, finally, drink-addled hands snatching it out of his hands when he’s still twirling it like the most annoying wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man in existence.

With the phone in your own two hands, you peer down at the screen, trying to make sense of what you’re looking at. There’s definitely your last two texts - you cringe at the sight of them, blue bubbles bursting your own - but there’s a slew of others beneath it and they’re all delivered, the read receipt mocking you.

You nearly yeet the phone across the room when, after two or three read-throughs, you grasp what he’s said. “You want to date me?” The words fumble on their way out, knocking into each other in a way that’s equal parts drunk-girl and stupefied-crush.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He’s got that shit-eating grin of his lighting up his face, sweeping sunshine and daisies into every corner of his expression. It’s at complete odds with the way his mouth twists and turns, flat of his cheek rounded by the tongue he presses into it. You’re both awestruck and turned on all at once. You feel like you might short circuit or maybe that you already have.

It’s the only explanation for the way you’re surging forward - because you’d never do it otherwise, unless you weren’t in control of your own stupid body - and all but throwing yourself against him.

As if he anticipates it, he receives you like a bed you’ve been away from for too long, broad palms sweeping across the backs of your thighs as you cling to him like a koala. Your cheeks burn white hot and steeped in something - love, lust, a mixture of both - and you hum comfortably against the column of his throat. The sound is returned tenfold, echoing from his cavernous chest like the happiest cat in the world. It shakes your entire body, so closely pressed to him that you can feel every vibration that runs through all five feet, ten inches of him.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes?” His words lose themselves in your hair, breath warm against the shell of your ear as he squeezes you tight.

You give him his answer in the press of your mouth, parted and a little sloppy, more tongue and teeth than technique. You swallow the laugh that builds, devouring it like a kid in a candy store with the intensity of your adoration. “Hell-a yes.”

The way he grips you in response, laughter rolling off him in intoxicating waves - because you’d happily get drunk off the sound - fizzes excitement through your limbs.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Both of you know the answer to that question, the knowledge passing silently between you.

You smirk; Jungkook mirrors it. He surges forward for another kiss and you’re meeting him halfway, slanting your mouth greedily across his. He relents for the briefest moment - lets you savour the gentle brush of his lips, the soft pass of his tongue - before he’s taking all he can get. He’s licking over your teeth, laving hotly across every inch in a way that makes your head spin.

“Get a room!” It comes from your right, somewhere just behind you.

“We should take their advice, baby.” He coos, breaking away just enough for you to gulp in lungfuls of air. His lips are the prettiest shade of red, kiss swollen and slicked with spit.

At any other time, you might be ashamed - you can only imagine how you look - but here and now, fueled by the knowledge of reciprocated love and the pleasant warmth of liquor, you couldn’t care less. So you kiss the boy you love, eager and with hands trailing the expanse of his back.

“Let’s go.”

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unfilteredaj · 3 years

Text

A night out (Rorschach x Reader)

(A/N- This is probably SO OUT OF CHARACTER and it's kind of dumb but I love Rorschach and wanted to write a self-indulgent ficlet)

(Warnings: EXTREMELY corny and self indulgent fluff, Cursing, mention of being followed/a stalker... nothing really that bad tbh.)

---

Rorschach wandered the streets of New York, the crisp chill of the night clearing his head more and more each second. Even though his friends had all been more than welcoming of his couch-surfing, he needed some time away from them. Time without the pressure of a case to solve.

His little bubble of quiet was burst by something odd, to say the least. A girl he'd briefly noticed a minute or two earlier strolled up to him, giving a wave and an excited "Hey!"

She threw her arms around his neck as if he were an old friend. She was wearing a small backpack over a hoodie with a band logo on it and looked no older than her early 20s.

Rorschach froze, confused. He obviously didn't know this girl.

"I am so sorry to just barge up like this but I'm pretty sure I'm being followed. Please just walk me to a bar or something." She whispered, sounding frantic. He looked around, seeing a suspicious looking guy a few hundred feet behind them. Rorschach nodded, playing his part and hugging the girl back. She looped her arm with his as they walked.

…

"What were you even doing out so late? Especially alone?” He asked after a few minutes.

"I dunno. I wanted to see the city at night, I guess. It was kinda dumb to go alone." She laughed, her tension melting. Her giggling strangely reminded Rorschach of the jingling sound her many bracelets and rings made. She un-looped her arm from his, thrusting her hand out for a handshake.

"I'm (Y/N). Thanks for helping me back there."

He returned her handshake, her fiery enthusiasm annoying and a little endearing at the same time.

"Just call me Rorschach." He said gruffly.

She flashed a toothy grin at him. "Pleasure to meet you. So.. where are we going?"

Rorschach shrugged. He didn't really have a destination. "You said to walk you to a bar..."

She groaned dramatically. "That would be so boring, though! A moody, mysterious stranger is far more interesting than a bar. I can't leave now. No way! You're stuck with me. Lets walk and talk a bit more.”

"Fine."

Rorschach let her lead, his own boredom convincing him to stick with this strange woman.

....

"Hey what's with that sign? It pretty neat, and the world IS burning... but why carry it around?" The girl asked after a few minutes of casual conversation that mostly consisted of her talking a lot and Rorschach giving small replies.

He shrugged. "Why deny the truth in the face of Armageddon?" He said rhetorically.

She chuckled, tilting her head at him. She broke into another grin. "Can I hold it?"

Rorschach looked deep in thought for a second, but before he'd thought about it for too long, she grabbed the sign anyway.

He huffed in annoyance and she just stuck her tongue out at him. But he didn't take it back. He instead watched as she twirled it around a few times and admired it.

"You are so weird. I like it!" She said matter-of-factly, handing it back.

Rorschach just rolled his eyes. He propped the sign in the opening of an alley, letting the girl take his hand and drag him along.

"How do you know someone's not gonna steal that thing? Or what if you don't remember where you left it?' She said

"I'll remember, trust me. Everyone knows it's mine."

He noted that she hadn't let go of his hand. He didn't think it meant much, and he didn't really mind, so he didn't pull away. She hummed absent-mindedly as she looked through random store windows.

A few minutes later, they came across an empty park, and the girl let go of his hand, making a beeline for the swings.

She sat, gesturing for him to follow. Under the soft glow of the park lights he could see her more clearly. Her face was flushed, her cheeks a bright pinkish-red from the cold.

“So what’s your story? Do you live here? In the city, I mean?”

Her question seemed innocent enough, but Rorschach knew the whole story seemed more sad than it actually was.

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

The girl laughed again…. She was impossibly bubbly. But paired with her unassumingly pretty face, it suited her.

“And you?” Rorschach gave her an opportunity to talk more…listening was easier for him anyway.

“Oh! I’m just visiting for the winter. But…I kind of want to stay longer. There’s so much beneath the surface here… so much to see and do. So many interesting people.” She nudged him.

“Interesting isn’t the word I’d use. More like dangerous. Someone like you…this city will tear you apart if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

"....Do you really think the world is ending?" She asked after a long pause.

Rorschach shrugged. "Dunno. Probably. There's so much filth... Bad people doing fucked up stuff..."

"But there are still some good people.... You seem like a good enough guy. I mean, we've been hanging out alone for almost an hour now and you haven't tried anything suspicious. I knew my sixth sense was right."

Her eyes had the same glimmer as a kid telling a friend a secret.

"Sixth sense?" Rorschach asked, his interest piqued.

"Oh, You're suddenly curious for once?" She teased. "I have this sense about people. Like you, for instance. I can tell you're a loner. You think being alone is less complicated. You seem smart, and I think you're a good guy even though you're a bit rough around the edges."

He smiled a little at her observation. It felt strange, but good. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd relaxed like this.

Snow started to fall, a thick veil of white quickly covering the park.

(Y/N) tilted her head back to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

"Let's go get hot cocoa!" She exclaimed, pulling Rorschach from his swing.

"Ok..."

She gripped his hand like an excited kid, pulling him into the nearest 24 hour diner.

....

She giggled as she reached across the table, gently brushing snow from his hair.

"Why?" he muttered, cringing a little.

"Sorry." Her voice retreated with her hand. The red in her cheeks had lifted to a slight pink, but now her cheeks blazed again.

"I'm not really... good with people..." He said. His face showed no shame or remorse. This was just a fact.

"I get it. But.. why help me earlier? Why let me drag you around town all night?" She asked

He stared a her blankly for a long while. Just when she thought he wasn't going to say anything, he answered.

"You needed someone....Maybe I did too." He shrugged, mostly talking to himself.

The Waitress brought them their drinks, And they gladly accepted the warmth.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get hot cocoa! Black coffee is for Cops and School teachers running on empty.” The girl laughed.

“You like me. Why?” Rorschach said suddenly.

“Hmm… I dunno. Helping me lose that guy was the first thing…” She Began. “but you seem so confident in yourself. Like you aren’t bothered by anything. But you have these walls up to keep the world out. You seem like someone who needs help coming out of your shell. And besides, don't think you mind the company, or you’d have dropped me off at a bar an hour and a half ago.”

“I don’t have many friends. I’m not friendly or outgoing. I’m kind of a recluse most of the time. But that doesn't bother you. You’re like a tornado of post-teen energy. I can’t really look away at this point.” Rorschach admitted. And it was true. For some reason, she intrigued him.

“You’re adorable. So angsty. Like a ginger Bruce Wayne… just without all of the annoying ‘rich boy’ machismo.” The girl smirked into her mug of cocoa.

It was a strangely fitting assessment, little did she know.

“Adorable?” He looked at his companion as if she’s just spoken another language.

“Oh for sure! It’s funny though. You've got this... weirdly charming look to you.” Her analysis sounded lighthearted and informal, but something in her eyes told Rorschach that it was genuine.

He guessed if he were someone else he’d like her too. She was nice, in an energetic, ditzy sort of way. And he did find her pretty. Before he could reply, (Y/N) had her face pressed against the glass of the window beside her, admiring the snow.

He took the opportunity to change the subject.

"You like the Snow?" He noted.

"I love it. I'm from the south... We never get to see it." She said longingly.

"Maybe if you stay in the city you could see it more often." Rorschach muttered.

Her eyes were practically stars when she turned to smile at him.

"You think I should stay? But I thought you said it was dangerous."

"That was when you didn't know anyone here. You know someone now."

He sipped his coffee, his eyes flicking away from hers for a few long seconds.

“It’s getting kind of late. Whaddaya say, handsome… walk me home?” She said hopefully.

“…Ok.”

They payed for their drinks, and ventured back out onto the icy sidewalk.

(Y/N) grabbed Rorschach’s hand again as they walked. And, once again, he didn’t protest.

She yawned, leaning against him a bit.

“I’ve had the best time. I’m glad I saw you earlier.” She grinned.

“Letting you drag me around town isn’t the worst night I’ve had…” he replied.

A few minutes later, they arrived at an apartment building.

“Well…this is me. Thanks for the nice night.”

She fished a sharpie out of her backpack, grabbing his hand and scribbling her number on it.

“If you ever find yourself bored and want some company, let me know.” She said.

“I will.” He said, his hand suddenly feeling cold when she let go.

After a few seconds of tense silence, she finally balled her fists into the fabric of his coat, bringing him down for a kiss.

It was quick, and sweet… the same as the night they’d just had.

“Take it easy, Rorschach. And call me.”

With that, she gave a small wave as she disappeared inside.

“What the fuck…”

Rorschach repeated the question to himself dozens of times on the way back to Nite Owl’s apartment.

#sorry if it’s super bad #but I FINALLY finished a oneshot #for ONCE.#so I’m proud #rorschach #watchmen

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mikasaessucasaa · 3 years

Text

Title: Flatlanders

Summary: After being forced to retire from singing, Sansa returns to Winterfell Ranch, a place she hasn’t called home in over ten years, and finds the man that she left behind all those years ago.

Part 1 .... Part 2

1991

King’s Landing, TX

Sansa’s hair was a frizzy mess. It wasn’t usually so humid this far inland, but of course the moment she came back was the same week that the summer storms started. It only ever rained once a year when she lived in LA.

And now she was trekking around town when the sky looked like it was about to open up. She needed to fix a broken fence that’s been neglected for weeks. And she needed to talk to the bank and get their finances sorted. What the hell has Arya been doing all this time?

Fence first. Bank later. And maybe she’ll get so busy getting wood that she might not even have to see Petyr.

And of course it started pouring as soon as she pulled up to the Night's Watch General Store. Damn. It better not be a flash flood. She should have listened when Mama told her to bring a damn umbrella. Bless Sansa’s heart.

Accepting her fate, she steeled herself and made a dash from the truck to the front door. Even the thirty seconds it took her to get inside was enough to make her look like a drowned rat. Forget frizzy hair, her auburn hair was soaked and limp.

She was greeted by a familiar face, but she couldn’t place his name, not having seen him in over a decade. He was scrawny and of average height with short cropped hair.

“Sansa! Woah, never thought I’d see you again in these neck of the woods.”

Honestly, neither did she.

She looked at his name badge. Ah. Pyp. One of Jon’s lackeys who used to follow him around high school. She thought it was adorable back then. She wondered if he still talked to Jon.

“Jon’s gonna be so happy to see you.” She doubted it, but she nodded and smiled. “How can I help ya today?”

“Got a whole section of my fence broken. I think from lightning a couple of weeks ago.”

Pyp showed her a couple of different options. She wanted to buy the cedar since it would last longer through the unpredictable Texas weather, but she saw their finances, and Mama definitely understated just how much trouble the ranch was in. She didn’t know how long her own cash was going to last with her singing voice now gone.

So she went with the pine instead. She’ll deal with it later.

“I’ll give you the friends and family discount,” Pyp said when he rung her up. As she was signing the check, he pulled out another piece of paper and asked, “Do you mind also signing this? My niece loves your music. She’s always jamming to your album on her little boombox.”

Sansa hadn't thought she was that popular. She had one or two songs played on the radio nationally, and produced a couple of songs for commercials. She bet it was her local celebrity fame that made her popular down here.

She gave her signature and hauled ass out of her store with her fence posts while the rain momentarily stopped. She covered her new purchase with a tarp and settled back into her truck.

She checked the time, and damn the bank was still open.

So she made her way over to the Eyrie Bank. Her parents had only ever gone to one bank their entire life because it was owned by a family friend. Papa had been good friends with Jon Arryn for a long time before he passed, and then Aunt Lysa remarried a childhood friend, Petyr Baelish.

To Sansa, Petyr had always been the creepy uncle, but if anyone could help her sort out the mess with the ranch, he could.

There weren’t many customers when she entered the bank, so of course they let Petyr know right away that she was there to see him.

He smiled that creepy smile that he always had, as if he wanted to devour her. It was the same look music producers always gave her when she entered the room. They always undressed her with their eyes first before they bothered listening to her demos.

And she smiled back, as he leaned forward and held her in a too intimate hug. Gross. “Sansa, my dear. It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much over these last twelve years.”

“Same here, Uncle Baelish.”

“I wish you had come to visit more often.”

“Well you know what it’s like for artists trying to break in.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to give up everything to chase your dreams. You’re so brave.” Liar. Everybody knew that Sansa was forced to leave.

Sansa smiled more. “Thank you Uncle.”

Baelish led them to his private office, and the way that he patted her shoulder after he closed the door made her uncomfortable, but she held it in as she watched him take a seat.

“So how can I help you, my sweetling?”

“I need you to walk me through the Winterfell finances.”

“Certainly, I’ll make it as easy as I can for you to follow.”

Sansa started tapping her finger against the arm rest.

She resented his insinuation. She didn’t finish high school, but she learned to manage her finances, learned how much the Lannisters stole from her, knew how much she willfully turned away from because she needed the Lannisters as much as she hated them.

Still he did make it easy for her to understand, all the while outlining all of the paperwork.

Mama had been behind on bank payments for a long time, even after being given extensions consistently. Eventually, even Petyr’s generosity, so he says, couldn’t save the ranch. So Robb took out a private loan to cover the bank payments.

“Another bank?” she asked.

“No more personal than that. I believe Robb was good friends with Rhaegar’s boy.” He probably wanted to say bastard, but knew better since he was Robb’s best friend.

But she couldn't believe that Robb would be stupid enough to take out a loan from the Valyrian Dragons. Maybe he had a death wish after all.

“And that’s what’s keeping the ranch afloat now? Do you know how much we owe?”

Petyr gave a number and it wasn’t absurd, but, “This interest rate is insane. We won’t ever be able to touch the principle.”

Petyr shrugged. “I did try to warn your dear brother. I told him that it would be better for the bank to repossess the ranch. We would have certainly allowed your family to manage it still.” But he would own it all. “But alas your brother couldn’t see sense.”

She couldn’t tell if Robb was a prideful fool, or smart not to fall into bed with Petyr.

She thanked Petyr for his time and headed to the Dragon’s clubhouse. She had dreaded this part of coming home. Sansa hadn’t seen Jon in twelve years, and she didn’t know what kind of man he grew up to be. He had always been kind and sweet as a child, but kind and sweet men don’t join the Valyrian Dragons.

But she had to know if Robb had a plan all along, or if he was dumb enough to leave his family and the ranch at the mercy of the Dragons.

The clubhouse didn’t know if it wanted to be an auto shop or a bar or a boarding house, just the kind of trashy place that you would find in the south, because what else could it be?

She never thought she’d actually step in this place.

When she was still in school, the girls used to whisper about how they dreamed they would lose their virginities to one of the Dragons’ members. Egg would be ideal, with his pretty boy charm and silver hair, but Jon would do — he may have been shy back then, but the girls all took it as mysterious and dangerous. She wondered if the girls’ assumptions became true in his adulthood.

She assumed Egg must have been successful in popping a lot of cherries, but in her loneliness she sometimes liked to think that she was the only one for Jon, that she was somehow special, despite the mess she left.

There were a couple of pretty girlies loitering in the bar area of the clubhouse when she entered. They teetered around on high heels and tight skirts and tops, and suddenly Sansa wished she had the foresight to dress for battle. Instead she was wearing her stupid ripped jeans, work boots, and a white tee with a flannel shirt.

The girlies turned to look at her and their excited chatter died down. She’s guessing the red hair gave her away, or she really was more popular than she thought.

Out of the crowd of girlies, a silver haired woman emerged in black stilettos, leather pants and a black corset top. Shit, who could wear leather pants in this weather except for Daenerys Stormborn?

“So it’s true, the prodigal Stark daughter returns,” Dany said sweetly, but Sansa knew there was nothing sweet about the woman. She was all fire and ash. Dany probably thrived on the club wars.

Sansa shrugged. “Everyone’s gotta come home sometime.”

“Only when they’re incapable of surviving the world out there.”

“But at least I went out into the world.” Instead of being trapped in this hellhole.

“Only goes to show that you don’t belong here.”

“Winterfell is my home.” Even Sansa would have rolled her eyes at herself if she heard her speak.

“But the clubhouse isn’t. What do you want?”

“I need to speak to Jon.”

“No. You left him a mess all those years ago, and you think you can come waltzing in here years later and just talk to him? Wake up honey. He won’t want to talk to you.” Dany crossed her arms. “Whatever you want to say to Jon, you can tell to his girl.”

Dany had always wanted to claw her way into the Targaryens, maybe she finally did.

“It’s got nothing to do with you Dany.”

Dany waved her hand, flashing an engagement ring. “See this here? Says it’s got everything to do with me, missy.”

Sansa’s heart started pounding uncomfortably in her chest and she felt nauseous and lightheaded. Shit. Of all the damn times to have an anxiety attack.

She stumbled backwards into something solid.

“Sansa.”

The low, broken sound snapped her towards the man.

“Jon,” Sansa said, equally as broken.

Part 3

#Flatlanders #jonsa #retired singer sansa #rancher sansa #mc jon snow #motorcycle club jon snow #Title is from the Texas country band FYI #also what am I doing #someone tell me to write TGW instead

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free-pancakes · 3 years

Text

couldn’t sleep last night and decided to elaborate more on this prompt! thanks again for the ask, @agoldenheartedsnkfan! i ended up changing my original answer a bit as i kept writing

it’s a bunch of levihan fluff and banter and it’s not very exciting, so you are officially forewarned lol

Summary: Levi confronts his feelings about Hange after the Sawney/Bean incident

cross-posted to ao3

“Levi, do you mind holding these for me?” Hange shoved her papers into Levi’s hands and ran back into her office. “Moblit couldn’t carry all my stuff, so this is a huge help, thanks Levi!” “Oi, four-eyes, what’s all this shit for?”

Hange ran back out of her office holding more tools and notebooks. “I’m doing some more experiments on Sawney and Bean tomorrow and I’m setting it all up! Remember, I’ll be meeting up with your squad and Eren later!”

“Hmph. Well you might as well just move your entire office out towards those damn titans, then. Carrying this stuff back and forth is a waste of time.” Hange threw her head back and laughed. “It would take ages to move my entire office out here, shorty! And THAT would be a waste of time!”

Levi rolled his eyes at her comment, and they started walking together to the tents outside the compound where the titans were held captive.

“Thanks for your help, Levi!” Hange smiled widely, and dropped half the things she was holding just to hug him, causing him to do the same.

“Oi four-eyes, we just got here and you’re already making a mess,” he muttered as he immediately started tidying up all the papers strewn across the floor. “Wow Levi, you can’t let a mess sit for even a second before you have to clean it up!” As she bent down next to him gathering the notebooks on the floor, the sweet scent of lavender reached Levi’s nose. “Yeah well good thing you started using the shampoo I bought you, because then this shit wouldn’t be the only mess on the floor I’d have to clean up.” Hange let out a small giggle, “Aw Levi, stop being so uptight! That’s why you have that permanent, constipated look on your face all the time!”

Nifa looked at Moblit. “God you were right, their weird little banter and bickering really doesn’t end, does it?”

“SHHHH NIFA they might hear you! I’d be caught dead if Levi finds out I’ve been ranting to our squad about the two of them! I’m glad Hange’s happy when Levi’s around but honestly I’d like some peace and quiet sometimes,” Moblit sighed.

Nifa whispered, “Hm, well if we said something, maybe they’d finally realize they actually do like each other, maybe they’ll stop fighting all the time!”

“Oh Nifa, with my luck, their banter will never end no matter what happens. Come on, we have a lot of work to do.”

“Ughhh fine,” Nifa said, defeated.

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

Levi stood with his arms crossed in front of Erwin’s desk. “Moblit said you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I’m a bit, concerned about Hange. I haven’t seen her since we completed the ODM checks. I’m not entirely sure who really killed Sawney and Bean at this point, but I have some feeling that Hange is still blaming herself over it. I haven’t heard or seen her for the past couple days—I know it’s your day off, but do you think you could find her and see how she’s doing, Levi?”

“Sure.” Levi turned to walk out the door.

“And Levi?”“Yes?”

“I asked you because well…I know you’d be able to bring her spirits back up. It’s been awfully quiet without her around.”

Levi nodded, and left to find Hange.

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

Levi searched all throughout the barracks—the lab, Hange’s office, the mess hall, and all her usual spots he’d find her sitting and scribbling notes. He checked with his squad and Hange’s squad, and no one knew where Hange was.

It was getting late, and the sun began to set lazily in sky. Levi was about to leave to look through their usual hangout places in town, when he heard Nifa jogging to catch up to him. “Hey Levi! I did notice one thing—Hange’s ODM gear is missing! She must have it with her!” Levi was grateful for how observant Hange’s squad members were, because now, he knew exactly where she was. He reached out to ruffle Nifa’s hair, and headed out.

Levi scaled the wall with his ODM gear, and started walking through the path of walkway around all the supply boxes and materials stored up by the center looking post. He wandered around for a few minutes until he turned around a tall pile of supplies and saw Hange, sitting with her legs dangling off the side of the wall, holding her face in her hands. He was entranced by her appearance, tears streaming into her hands, traveling slowly down her arms. He had seen Hange cry before, mourning over dead comrades and failed experiments, but this was different. Hange was sunshine personified—a fierce fire ever present in her eyes, a person radiating energy and self-confidence every minute Levi had known her. But in that moment, it was nowhere to be found, and it made Levi feel so cold that he shivered where he stood. He woke himself out of his trance, and stepped silently towards Hange. As he got closer, he heard Hange muttering to herself—

“God, Hange. It’s all your fault, you’re such an idiot. You just keep on letting everyone down don’t you? Why can’t you just stop being so goddamn useless?”

Levi stopped at hearing those words and felt nothing but anger—“How could she even think that?” he thought to himself. He was overwhelmed with fierce feelings to protect her and wanted nothing but for her to know how important she was to the survey corps, to those 104th brats, to his squad, to their friends, and more importantly—to him. His chest swelled with emotion, overwhelming his senses. He closed his eyes, took a moment to breathe and calm himself.

He avoided dwelling on these types of feelings, but to his annoyance, he was constantly pestered with comments and questions on the nature of his relationship was with Hange. However, the more Levi let himself simmer in these thoughts, the more he realized that he couldn’t just keep denying how he truly felt. Three years was long enough.

He walked towards her until he was standing directly behind her, looking down at the top of her head, mesmerized by the purple-orange glow of the sunset illuminating the tears on her face, and her flowing locks of hair draping softly over her shoulders—he rarely ever saw it out of a ponytail. “God, even when she's sad, everything about her is still beautiful,” Levi thought.

Hange didn’t notice Levi until she suddenly felt his hands gently cupping her cheeks, which then carefully pushed her chin upwards to look at him. She was startled at first, as she thought she was alone, but she recognized it to be Levi fairly quickly. She found herself staring into Levi’s face, his bangs barely brushing the tip of her nose. She was angry at first, upset that anyone would find the scout’s section commander crying and doubting her own abilities. But as she frowned and opened her mouth to yell and project her frustrations onto him, Levi wiped away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs and sat down next to her, his actions calming her sudden surge of anger. They made eye contact, and Hange knew exactly what was on Levi’s mind—he didn’t need to say a word.

Hange laughed, and placed her hand on Levi’s shoulder. “You always know what to say… without even saying it, don’t you Levi?”

A few moments of silenced passed.

“Hm. Well, your eyesight might be trash, but other than that, you do know you’re not useless, right?”

Hange looked down with embarrassment, surprised he had heard her talking to herself. She opened her mouth to speak in protest, but Levi gently placed his hand on her head and pulled her into his gaze. “I don’t want to hear any of that nonsense ever again, Hange. Focus on what lies ahead, and I’ll be right here by your side to hold your shit, or whatever you need. Okay?”

Hange’s eyes widened. Levi might not be great with words, but Hange was always good at “translating” for him, or at least understanding what he really meant. “Levi, are you saying… what I think you’re saying?”

Levi was at a loss for words, and beads of sweat instantly started forming on the side of his brow. Hange noticed this immediately and laughed so hard that tears started welling up around her eyes. “Oi four-eyes, this isn’t funny!” Hange kept laughing and laid her head on his shoulder. It took all of Levi’s energy to suppress a smile—he hated to admit it, but her laughter was contagious. “Hange I’m serious, okay? I—“

“I love you too, yknow?” Hange whispered.

Levi’s expression softened at her response. Minutes passed before either of them could say anything. They sat, dwelling on the words they just exchanged, staring out to the vast land in front of them, the last rays of sun peaking over the horizon.

“…How long have you known?” Levi asked curiously.

“Well Nanaba really just pulled me aside the last time we all went drinking about a few months ago, and pushed me in the right direction, I guess. It’s funny, in retrospect, I think the moment I knew that you might be a little more than just my best friend was—“

“At the Sina military ball 3 years ago,” Levi and Hange echoed simultaneously.

“W-wait, you started having feelings for me the same night I did for you?” Hange exclaimed.

“Pfft, pulling those pranks on all those dumb military police morons with you wasn’t bad.” Hange smiled as she reminisced over the trouble they got into that night, the laughter they shared, and… their first dance together. “Hey Levi, the two of us make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“Yeah, all 3 of us.”“Oi what do you mean by 3 of us? What are you talking about??”

“Yeah, 3. You, me, and your shitty glasses.”

Hange laughed heartily, and kissed Levi on the cheek. He immediately blushed and she giggled more at his embarrassment. She stood up, and said, “Hah, well I guess it’s time to head back. Erwin’s probably wondering where we are, and the debrief meeting is gonna start pretty soon.” She excitedly held her hand out towards Levi to help him up. He couldn’t help but smile at her goofy grin, and grabbed her hand.

#levihan #levihan fanfic #ao3

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sunset-novice-writer · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promises

Dedicated to: @blackgirlanimes

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I urge guys to please go check out her blog. Her writing is amazing, and Merch is my favorite series by her. Plus, I wanted to give something back since she works hard on filling requests. I feel that writers sometimes need to have time to enjoy reading things too. (No matter how much I sort of cringe at my writing. Lol ^-^;)

This is my first official post to my Novice Writing blog. Whatever happens, I put this out there. As the saying goes, “Practice shows your effort.” Well, it's just a piece I got inspired by original songs I listened to too. Although the last bit at the end with some lyrics I came up with.

Hope you enjoy the writing of the unedited version. Let me know if you guys want a part two. I apologize in advance if anyone seems OOC it’s unbeta’d while it will be re-edited sometime later.

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Summary: Leaving to visit your birth parents in America was something exciting and sad for you because there was one person you would miss more than anything. An explosive blonde with harsh words though hiding behind what he really feels. You make a promise to return to him without fail in a year, and somehow you find yourself surprised instead.

Is it possible for you to make up after an argument leaves things up in the air ?

Contains: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem! Reader

Setting: |AU Modern |

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[ Scattered Pieces ] Part One

There you were sitting on the steps of your house you’d dreaded this day for months. While listening to your music, the song of somber feelings made you blink your eyes to stop the tears from falling. Everything around you would be all but a vision of something so far away, that left you wanting to take in the view of cloudy weather.

The light shower of rain curled your hair a little, causing you to give a brief smile. A time for reminiscing is something that came naturally during a crucial moment like this. Still, what awaited on the other side of the country was a chance to learn about the family who gave you up. Maybe hope to leave the resentful feelings of being tossed away to give you some closure, or the real understanding of why you give up for adoption clearer.

One thing seemed to cross your mind all time leading up to the days of the departure. A certain explosive little porcupine that wouldn’t take the news well of you disappearing on him.

Bakugou Katsuki…

First of many things that troubled you, the hurt he masked into dismissal with the egotistical nonchalant attitude you’d admired. During that moment you couldn’t stand him when he acted the way he did about you leaving for a year. Then again, you found it annoying at the same time how his temper blew up like a grenade. Only leaving a reminder of the wreckage his words left you still fresh in your mind to ruin.

“See if I care, dumbass! Go on, back where you came from and let them abandon you again!”

It was almost as if you could hear the words echoing in your mind from that incident.As if it were happening once more which you felt nothing next to numb. All except the pain that etched on your face returned while you blinked your eyes to stop the tears. Beyond the surface it wasn’t like you wanted to leave, still this was your chance to find your own answers of your past.

Your lips trembled cursing at yourself for letting the tears slip away he knew that was something hurtful. All the fears of going to meet the parents who wanted to meet you made you second guess how to approach them. The only action you did toward his comment turned around shaking your head at him not letting words fall from your lips. Instead was nothing that left your lips as you remember staying still. Thinking back on it, somehow you doubt even now he would come to see you off something inside you was fine with it.

How dumb were you like these getting angry after the fact when the moment is over?

Whatever the case you were glad that you had said nothing during that moment, as your hand moved to wipe the tears from eyes you took a deep breath. Whenever you faced your biological parents face to face you would deal with what came your way whether it be disappointing, or happy at least you’d get some answers.

After all your parents wanted you to know where you came from while taking you to explain everything when they told you the truth.Something that you would be grateful for sure you could’ve been angry about them keeping this enormous secret. Yet. you knew your parents worried about things you couldn’t understand as a child. Even if neither one of them had a connection by blood to you.

You couldn’t help to be happy beyond words, you could express that you got a life full of love, and sadly most kids like you don’t have time to experience. Reality of your situation, you got to have a home with these wonderful people though sometimes you felt a disconnect when you saw other of your peers with the parents.it was your adopted parents. Still, the days passed continuously since your encounter with Katsuki. You felt happy that at least despite the harsh words he left you with you.

“Maybe it’s better that I didn’t say everything I wanted.” You stated with resolve, your eyes would express another story of regret before you pinched your right cheek to snap you out of it. Your mopy thoughts needed to take a back seat. You wanted to face your actual parents, to ask everything you felt. In the back of your mind, you wanted to have his support behind you.

You want to move forward to well really to get there then you plan to do next. Placing Bakugou at the back of your mind would be the best thing you could do for right now.

That would be fine, you could handle it, nothing would get in the way. Especially not the explosive blonde you were probably throwing himself into a distraction to avoid thinking of you. They had made sure they packed the luggage into the car the night before and learned that your father wanted to take a later flight instead of the current one.

Sweet little broccoli is calling you~ Never knew a broccoli could blush like a tomato, like a tomatoo--Oh yeah! I love you my sweetpea fresh like chili broccoli..~

A brief buzz came from your pocket causing you to let laughter burst from your mouth. You saved this as Izuku’s ringtone, much to his flustered expression every time he heard it with an embarrassment covering his face. You didn’t think it was that bad besides you worked on creating something like this for his Mom. An early mother’s day gift, so she wanted a ringtone that fitted her beloved son. So you helped him with it much how he was shy singing it, but you did it with him. At least you could find your spirits lifting a fraction. Before you answered the call you went to work on calming down your giggles first.

“Hey, Izuku. What’s up?”You questioned, you wondered why he called suddenly out of the blue like this, yet it was nice to talk to someone either way.Still, you heard him speak on the other of the line.

“Hey, [Name] is everything all right?” Midoriya's tone was curious, as if he was trying to figure more than she’d let on. Then you as if something told he wanted to talk about something else. He was very observant, though the thoughts of your conversation with Katsuki crawled back up, but you wanted to avoid it.

“Mhm, I’m all right, Izuku.” Your voice relaxed, giving a bit of a chuckle that escaped your lips. In the event to stop him from trying to read too much in to what you wanted to hide.You smiled thinking of your trip besides you knew your doubts and worries came out of nervousness to be honest.

“I’m ready to face my biological parents--to get the answers to my questions.” You continued there was a bite of bitterness in your voice which he caught.

Why did you let that tiny swirling frustration come out of you now?

“[Name], is it really about that or is it about Kacchan..?” Izuku asked, his voice cut through your voice caught in your throat when he mentioned him. Now, you stammered with your own reply.

“N-No, it's not about Bakugou.” Damn it. You cursed you weren’t trying to sound stumble with Midoriya though he knew Katsuki just and you. Yet, you wondered what he knew about his outburst, though you didn’t want to go into it.

At your obvious lie, all you heard on the other sigh of the phone was him sighing at your stubbornness. What else could you say about the subject? He knew about what transpired, though you were sure where he learned it from. Either way, you didn’t see a point in just putting it behind a shade so you came clean.

“He’ll come around as hot-headed as Katsuki is.” Midoriya said while pausing for a moment. Still, you couldn’t help but agree with him. “I know he will see you off—He will miss you everyone will [Name].” He replied, you would miss him along with all your friends.

Hoping was all you could do for the moment was that Bakugou came through to say goodbye on better terms. A negative thought was lingering inside your head like a deathly plague he might not. When trying to predict his moods like was trying to disarm a ticking time bomb even though you knew he had moments of caring. It was just obscured by the rough edges of his personality, though you saw it more than most.

“I will take your word for it,Izuku.I just hope to see him one more time...” You smiled lightly, while conversing a little more with Midoriya longer before ending the call. Drifting further away from your persistent thoughts that resurfaced, you got saved from them. Your parents returned home with some takeout from your favorite place while you saw their car pull in the driveway.

All your unease that made you restless to hear from one person disappeared. You wanted to at least hear his voice say his common catch phrase, or the fear you held made you more concerned to call him.

You stopped up at your front door to glance down at your iPhone, glancing at the screen saver you stored secretly. It was Bakugou Katsuki in his usual stance, though he sported a splash of color dusting his face a bright pink. His scowl was clear while crimson eyes held his glare with your arms wrapped around his waist. What happened that day made your smile return, though suddenly it dimmed altogether once more.

A confession that would stay hidden with which you want to tell him. A single tear fell from your eye that splashed on the screen of your phone. You bit back the sobs that wanted to escape your throat, deciding it would be better to compose yourself. You didn’t want your folks to make a fuss about why you felt sad moment. You wanted to just forget and enjoy their company. While that faint melody of the song you were playing echoed its somber words when you entered your house.

Let you hear the words I want to say…

Before I disappear never again to see your face…

I love with the confession of my feelings seemed to go unanswered.

Yet, they linger only for you..

Something that when unnoticed just outside your gate was the very boy you were thinking of now. He contemplated going to your door before growling in frustration turning on his heel walking back to his home.

“Damn it...” Katsuki wasn’t sure how he’d apologize to you that didn’t stop the prickling feeling that stabbed his chest. Your sobs only dug it deeply into how his words cut you. This whole situation was shitty to him you leaving hating to admit he would miss a lot than he expressed. He didn’t want to lose you even if it was to get your answers he wished to find those shitty parents of yours to tell them that. They shouldn’t have given someone like you up even if it was for a beneficial thing for you, yet it is a grateful feeling that he met you because of it.

At least that Deku told him when you’d be departing, so he’d make sure you’d come back. A promise he wanted to deliver before you went halfway across the country to get your answers..

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I can’t believe that I finished this at 2:37 AM. Hope everyone enjoys this blurb. All that to see if you all want to see a Part Two. I’ll probably work on making masterlist sometime tomorrow.

#practice writing #dedication #BNHA #BakugouxFemReader #pocifyousquint #bnha x reader

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my-arlington-academia · 3 years

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Cliffany part 2

O-kay, and that’s it! I don’t know if I’ll write a continuation tbh since it was just a silly little idea that came out of nowhere. (Although I did have some ideas for more!) I haven’t really been active on my fanblog lately so it’s not like it’ll make much of a difference though haha. By the way, I’m thinking about making my blog more "Dulcet-oriented" rather than just SE. I hope you guys don’t mind? Recently, I’ve been getting more and more into Black Tarot! So expect my blog to change a lil 🔮🕯🌌

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It had been a couple of days now since Tiffany’s last interaction with Claire, and while she was still ignoring her like before, Tiffany’s efforts in doing so had increased. The moment she spotted her in the corner of her eye, she would move at a faster pace, as if running away. Was it guilt after all? No, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with Claire’s annoying and unnecessary empathy. The empathy that she knew she didn’t deserve which made her feel even more frustrated towards Claire.

All she should be worried about right now is getting more followers on Instaglam, not avoiding a nobody like the plague. On that note, spring was coming soon, the flowers started to blossom and the days were getting longer which meant... that the "cottagecore" tag on insta would go trending soon, no doubt! And of course, living on the Arlington campus as one of its students, this gave Tiffany the access to its beautiful garden. Although honestly, she only ever went there to take pictures and this time wasn’t any different. She had prepared some tea sets and dresses for the occasion, all of which she would throw away once spring went away along with its "trends."

Carried by her confident footsteps, she walked to the garden. That confidence was only a facade though. She knew exactly what kind of people and who in particular went to take strolls quite often in this goddamn garden. But hey, it was 7pm and the sun would soon start to set. Knowing that Claire always arrives 15 minutes in advance to any meeting and most likely always wakes up at 6am, there was nothing to be worried about. Chances are, she was either doing her homework before going to bed like a goody-two-shoes or watering her weird-ass plants. Tiffany always had the horror of seeing these at Raquel’s parties. It just didn’t fit at all with the rest of what was going on in the room and ruined the whole "party" vibe.

In any case, there she was, searching for a good spot to take pictures and set up a fake picnic. That basket filled with different colored blankets, tea sets, biscuits, tea and a pie was way heavier than Tiffany had initially thought. Maybe she really should’ve asked for collab pictures with Trisha from the fine arts department. She didn’t really like her but when it came to follower count they were surprisingly close, although Tiffany was still number one of course. Still, if she had asked for a collab they could’ve carried those heavy props together.

After finding a good spot next to the pond, Tiffany set everything up in an aesthetically pleasing manner and got down to taking the pictures. She was taking different shots to post them one by one throughout the week and give out the illusion that she was taking those the same day she posted them. She was ready to upload the first one, call it a day and go back to the dorms without touching any of the tea or cakes. It’s all just useless calories anyways. As she was putting the tags on the picture, she started wondering what were the names of those flowers in the background.

"Ugh, fuck. What are those orange shits called again?"

"Marigolds."

"Ah right, thank y-"

Tiffany immediately snapped her head back. This annoyingly gentle voice could only belong to one person.

"...What the fuck, Claire. Where did you pop out from?!"

There’s no was she was there the whole time, right? It’s true that Tiffany could get lost in what she was doing once she was focused but it wasn’t to the point where she became completely unaware of her surroundings.

"I came by a few minutes ago... Y-you looked so invested in what you were doing that I didn’t want to bother you! I didn’t mean to pry."

Well, Tiffany could always upload those damn pictures from her room. Claire’s arrival just meant that it was time for her to leave. However, seeing that Tiffany started packing up her things, Claire panicked thinking that it’s her fault. Which was in fact, her fault... in a way.

"O-oh! You’re not going to finish your picnic? I’m so sorry, I’ll just leave! Throwing all of this good food away would be such a waste-"

"Are you fucking dumb?"

Did she not get that this was all only a set-up for taking pictures? It was obvious that Tiffany didn’t have any intention of eating or drinking any of that. Not to mention that after everything that happened the other day, she was still not scared of approaching her?

"I don’t give a damn about the food, it was just for my social media accounts you dumb bit- ... dimwit. I was already done anyway so you don’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m leaving."

"I see! T-then maybe I can help?!"

Help? What did Claire even know about- Actually, on second thought. This whole "cottagecore" shtick was a great fit for Claire. She probably already had all of the things Tiffany bought last week for those pictures, even better and more authentic-looking ones probably. This was maybe the one and only time Tiffany would let Claire "help" her. But from her point of view, she was mostly just using her.

"Hm. Is that so? How can you help me then... Claire."

"Wait just a second! I’ll be back right away!!!"

She ran immediately towards the dorms. Well, she'll probably bring a bunch of random stuff. In the end, Tiffany was really torn between the idea of staying and waiting for who knows how long and the idea of leaving right now. Surely, Claire would make a hilarious expression when she’d realize that she was played with and abandoned. While trying to laugh it off, Tiffany accidentally remembered what happened a few days ago, along with Claire’s crying face. Damn... Okay, fine. She’ll wait for her but only because it would be annoying if she bawled again like a damn toddler.

And so she waited until, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a girl with a pink dress running towards her. That girl, of course, being Claire. She carried a picnic basket with her too, but much bigger and more practical. For half a second, Tiffany thought that Claire actually looked maybe, just maybe, a little bit pretty. She erased the thought in a hurry, covering it with harsh words as usual.

"Wh-why did you change your clothes? You think I’m gonna take pictures of you?"

"Ah, no, well..."

Claire looked at the beautiful picnic set-up and the cyan dress Tiffany was wearing.

"I just wanted to fit in with the rest of what you put up, I guess. Also, don’t you think that we kinda match? I brought some of the cookies I baked and my favorite teas and tea set. I think mine will look better with your picnic blanket! Uh- N-not to say that yours looks bad!!!"

She was trying so hard to make herself likable that it was painful to see... and kinda cute. God, Tiffany was really hating her thoughts today. She was just going soft because of Claire’s aura or something. Again, this was definitely the first and last time she was letting Claire help her with anything. I’d be bad if she turns completely brain-dead and clueless like her.

"...Whatever. Show me what you got. I’ll decide if it’s good enough."

Claire was pulling everything out of the basket one by one. Everytime, better and better items were pulled out after the other. Her cakes and cookies gave off a "homey" feeling which was more fitting with the aesthetic rather than Tiffany’s store bought patisseries. Claire was staring at her, wide-eyed and excited.

"W-what do you think, Tiffany? It looks good, doesn’t it?!"

"Uh. Yeah, it’s fine, I guess. I’ll take a few pics."

That was a lie. This looked so much better than the try-hard bullshit Tiffany had done. She was good at riding on the "trend wave" but Claire was a natural when it came to this one specific thing. Tiffany was trying to look as poker-faced as she could so as to not show her satisfaction, but clearly, her apparent enthusiasm for each shot was betraying her. Sometimes, she would accidentally take one with Claire in the shot and ask her to move.

"Hey. You’re ruining the picture with your ugly fac- dress. Move to the right."

Before Tiffany could even do anything about it, Claire was already pouring some tea into 2 cups.

"Woah woah woah, put the teapot down. I didn’t agree to this."

"But...This is a kettle, Tiffany. Not a teapot."

"Oh, shut it!"

Claire gave off such a dejected face that Tiffany, once again, felt like she was kicking a poor puppy to the ground. She held back on going off on a rant.

"But we’re already here and the weather is so nice! It would be such a shame not to use any of this at all..."

Claire looked around, observing this beautiful setting, not to mention, the sun was finally starting to set. Going home right now would be like an insult to the utter beauty of this scene, it almost looked like it came right out of a fairy tale picture book. Without mulling it over any further, Tiffany took a sip out of her cup.

"I’m only doing this because I feel compelled to, got it?"

Claire’s eyes lit up nonetheless.

"Alright! Please try out my cookies too!"

Tiffany contemplated them for a second... is it true that home-made stuff is more healthy? Surely, that’s just a myth, right? A cake from the store and a home-made cake will have about the same amount of sugar in them regardless of who made them and how. Well, she did see Claire share her food from time to time with her friends and while she would never admit it, it is true that she was a bit curious about trying them herself. What was the last time she had eaten anything "home-made"? Or did it ever even happen?

"...Okay, whatever. I bet they taste shitty."

Tiffany reluctantly took a bite... It was surprisingly really delicious!

"It’s bad."

"R-really?"

As much as she wanted to lie about it, she couldn’t after seeing Claire make that dejected face again.

"Uhhh. No, um. Hmm... On second thought, it’s pretty average. It’s okay-ish."

Tiffany really hated herself right now. Being mean has never been this hard before. She couldn’t wait for the moment where they would be done with this ridiculous play-pretend and go back to her room. She tried drinking and eating as fast as she could without making it look like she was in a hurry to run away from this awkward situation. And God, it was so fucking hard...

Unsurprisingly, they were both pretty silent the whole time. Well, it wasn’t like they had anything to converse about or things in common. Right as Tiffany was about to get up and pack up her belongings, for real this time, Claire spoke up. Nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"Um. So you know, I have something to confess to you, Tiffany."

Oh God, not now. As much as Tiffany found this timing annoying, she couldn’t help but poke fun at that poor choice of words.

"Confess? Oh my, so you like me in that way, huh? That explains everything."

"Wha- N-no! That’s not it! I mean, realistically speaking, t-that would never even happen!"

Was she implying that she could never like someone like Tiffany? Well, Tiffany herself was the one who brought this up but she was a bit offended at that statement. Regardless though, the way she was trying to deny it so hard was kinda cute. No. Not cute at all! If this went on, Tiffany would really become crazy before the end of this day.

"Last time, you said that I was only being kind towards others to profit off of them and I didn’t say anything but... that wasn’t true at all! I always wanted to help you because I thought that you needed it, I swear. Not to satisfy myself! ... Well. Except maybe..."

"Except...?"

"T-today. I admit that I kind of had ulterior motives."

Now that piqued Tiffany’s curiousness right away. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave as much anymore if it meant that Claire would finally admit that she did some things for her own benefit. Why was it? Did she want to post a picture of herself on Tiffany’s Instaglam to fish for compliments, knowing that she had a lot of followers? Claire hid her face behind her hands and muttered a few words.

"I... wanted you to warm up to me."

"...Huh?"

That’s it? That was it? Claire’s ulterior motive was for Tiffany to "warm up to her."?

"So like, you want us to be friends or some shit?"

"Oh no! Not necessarily that far, just... good acquaintances!"

Is she stupid? There’s no way that she genuinely thinks those "motives" are bad. Tiffany sighed in exasperation.

"Listen. I’m just really tired right now, I don’t have the energy to assimilate all the shit you’re saying. I’m packing all of this up and going back to the dorms."

In complete silence, they gathered all of their belongings and walked to the dorms while keeping a fair distance between the 2 of them. As if to say, "we’ve got nothing to do with each other." Surprisingly, Claire didn’t try anything anymore. Didn’t even wish for a "good night" or a "good evening" which was weird to say the least. Tiffany tried to ignore it and when she got back and unpacked all of the props, she noticed something that didn’t belong to her. One of Claire’s lunch boxes with cookies in them and... a note?

Here’s my number just in case ;3 Please give me my lunchbox back once you’re done eating the cookies!♡

"...Your note makes me wanna barf."

So that’s why she didn’t try anything. That sneaky little... she must've slid that into the basket when they were packing. She already knew that Tiffany would eventually be forced to talk to her again... as if! Who says she’ll return it? She can just throw all the cookies away along with the box... Or so she thought. Tempted, she took a bite, then another one. And another one. Her diet was ruined for sure now. Damn you Claire and your stupidly great cooking skills, as if you needed another skill to be better and more perfect than you already are. Tiffany put the box away, trying to forget the delicious taste and smell. Back to Instaglam she goes. Uploading the picture while adding the "marigold" tag on it. Going through the pictures again, she noticed that some of them had Claire in the corner. She was thinking of deleting them but... well whatever. She can just crop her out later if needed. Her dress looks pretty so it’s fine even if she does appear in the pictures. All we see is a bit of her hair, as long as her face isn’t visible, it’s okay. Yup. It was totally not because Tiffany was slowly starting to feel something towards the girl she was trying so hard not to get involved with.

#sweet elite #claire durand #tiffany #cliffany #crackship #fanfics

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