Tumgik
#i just had a giggle to myself at how often this refrain pops up
thesunsethour · 15 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a mini compilation of george harrison just. not knowing
136 notes · View notes
asian-hero · 4 years
Text
The Words I Desperately Want to Say
A/N: Hi I just had a cute lil idea that I wanted to put out into the universe with my favorite boy, Shouto
Saying the “L” word is hard
In all honest, be prepared for a lot of fics because I really wanna distract myself from the dumpster fire that is uni :)
Summary: While Shouto knows that you love him with all of your heart, he wonders if he’s truly good enough for a person like you? After all, how can he be worth all the trouble if he can’t even say what he desperately wants to tell you?
Words: 3,463
“I love you.”
In theory, the phrase itself shouldn’t be hard to say. It’s simply a string of words connected together in order to convey a message to another person. All words, in essence, don’t hold any meaning, but instead humans enforce what each words means and how you should use it. So, simply saying “I love you” shouldn’t be hard.
However, for Todoroki Shouto, it was as if those words threatened to strangle him. 
The idea of love had been tainted for him at a young age. His father, who was supposed to love him and his siblings unconditionally, had isolated him and put his body through a level of physical abuse that no child should endure. The man who was supposed to help nurture and teach him about life had taught him that love was a disease, that only the weakest should succumb to it. His mother, the woman who was supposed to protect him, had left him with a large scar on the left side of his face, and an even bigger one on his heart. Though, he would never blame him for it, after all, those who he loved would eventually see him as a monster. 
That’s why, when Shouto first had entered his relationship with you, he was so terrified of what would happen if he let himself be vulnerable, if he let you see the side of him that he didn’t usually show anyone. He wondered if you’d leave him like his mother, if you’d push him away just as his father forced him away from his siblings. There were many times in the beginning of your relationship where Shouto refrained from holding you, whether it be a small gesture of linking your pinkies, or wrapping his arms around your frame. He was afraid that he’d scare you off, that it was too soon to ask for those things. So, for quite a while, he’d simply stand beside you, his hands inching ever so close to yours, but never making the first move. He was eternally grateful for the moment when you had caught his hesitant actions, even if he was embarrassed in the moment, and rather than questioning him about his actions, you instead intertwined your fingers together, going back to whatever you were doing with a small smile on your face.
He didn’t realize how that simple action would make his heart speed up, nor did he realize that it would open the wound in his heart that he thought was gone.
After that first interaction, Shouto makes more of an effort to be near you. If possible, he’ll hold your hand, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. If you two are separating, whether it be for a few hours or a few weeks, he always makes sure to wrap you tightly in his arms, his face buried in your neck as a plea for you not to leave nearly leaves his lips, but he forces it back. Every single time, you wrap your arms around him just as tightly, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you promise him that you’ll be back soon. Sometimes, when he’s lucky, he’ll be able to hear your light laughter filling the air, with a teasing remark spoken by his ear.
“You’re acting as if I’m leaving for a year,” You said, a smirk playing on your lips, “I’ll be gone for an hour max.”
“Still too long,” He mumbles, burying his face further into your warmth.
The first time you tell him you love him he freezes. You two are cooking together, attempting to make some dessert you saw online, even though neither of you are necessarily the best of chefs. Teasing remarks are exchanged, as are soft glances and loving actions. While Shouto is trying to cut up some strawberries without cutting off his own finger, you stand back, admiring the look of determination on his face. It almost makes you laugh, with how delicate he’s being with the fruit. When he finally finishes his first one, he looks back at you for a comment, he finds himself surprised at the fact that you’re already looking at him. He clears his throat, ignoring the flustered feeling in the pit of his stomach as he gestures towards the fruit before him.
“So?” He says, not quite meeting your eyes, “Is this okay?”
A giggle escapes your lips, an amused look on your face. “You took five minutes to cut one strawberry?”
As he nods his head, your small giggles turn into a full blown cackle, and Shouto can’t help but wonder what’s so funny. Though, he does like hearing you laugh, so he supposes it’s okay to not know.
However, nothing could’ve prepared him for what was coming out of your mouth next:
“You’re such a dork,” You sighed, placing a hand on lower back, “You’re lucky I love you and your slow ass,”
Though you hadn’t meant to make a big deal out of it, Shouto felt his entire body freeze in place, his mouth suddenly becoming dry. If you noticed the change in his attitude, you didn’t pay any attention to it, instead taking over the cutting duties, mentioning something about how you’d be there for decades if you let him continue, but he wasn’t really sure. 
A million thoughts were rushing through his mind. Should he say it back? Of course, he loved you with every fiber of his being, but what would happened if he said it back? If he didn’t say it, would you think he doesn’t love you? Were you just saying it as a joke, and he’s taking it too literally? He wasn’t sure what to do, but before he could even settle on one train of thought, you turned back towards him, that same smile he fell in love with resting upon your face.
“Are you just going to stand there and let me do all the work?” You pouted, though he could hear the teasing lit behind it, “I thought we were a team,”
With that, he simply snapped himself out of his thoughts, pushing your words to the back of his mind as he gave you a shaky smile, nodding his head.
After that first time, he noticed how you’d say you love him more and more often.
If he was leaving for a patrol, you’d pop your head out from wherever you were and tell him that you love him. Even whenever he did something stupid, or the two of you were goofing around, you’d tell him just how much you love him in between your fits of laughter. Every time you said those three words, he’d feel his heart soar and his stomach drop at the same time. 
Every time you’d tell him “I love you” he’d freeze up, and even though he desperately wanted to reciprocate, he found his throat closing up, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Even though he never said it back, you still continued to say it, and that was a fact that both made him elated and upset at the same time. You never said anything about him staying silent, but he wondered if you were truly okay with it. Whenever you’d say those three words he’d wonder if you expected something from him, if you were waiting for him to say it back. It wasn’t as though he didn’t want to say it, but he was afraid of what would happen. He wanted to shower you with all the love and affection that you did for him, but anytime he’d even think about wanting to say it, he’d feel his breath grow short, his hands start to sweat, and every scenario running through his mind always ended up with his heart breaking in two.
Whenever his mind would go down that route, he couldn’t help but wonder why you were even staying with him in the first place. Though he tried his best to be the boyfriend you deserved, if he couldn’t even say the one thing you wanted to hear, then what was the point? He didn’t want you to leave, but he also didn’t want to hold you too close, in fear that he’d give you all of him only for you to open your eyes and realize that he wasn’t worth it. He felt as though he didn’t deserve you, yet he wanted nothing more than to have you in his arms for the rest of his life. He wanted you to stay, but felt as though you should go, find someone who’s better at expressing themselves, someone who can give you what you deserve.
He felt selfish, unworthy of your love.
The thought of holding you back from someone else was what kept him up one night, his eyes trained on the ceiling above him as you were sleeping soundly next to him. As he listened to your breathing, he tried desperately to push all the negative thoughts away from his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep, and it seems as though he couldn’t even do that. 
After a few more minutes of a fruitless attempt of falling asleep, he shifted his body up, moving so that he was sitting up, peering over your sleeping form. He watched as your chest rose and fell, looking at the peaceful expression on your face. As he starts to pull away, his body shift ever so slightly to go to the kitchen, or anywhere else other than here, he sees your face scrunch up in discomfort, and before he can even breathe, your body moves on its own, twisting so that you’re laying across his lap, your arms wrapped loosely around his waist. He pauses in his movements, wondering if you’re awake, but once you let out a quiet snore, he sighs, realizing that you’re still asleep. 
In that moment, he can’t help but feel a bit disappointed that you aren’t awake, and it only makes him feel even more selfish. 
As he continues to stare at you, he notices that you start to stir, small grumbles of protest leaving your throat, and just before Shouto tries to lay down once more, in hopes that you won’t wake up, he finds himself staring into your eyes. 
You began to stir when you felt something wet drip onto your face. At first, you tried to ignore it, but after the fourth or fifth drip onto your face, you opened your eyes blearily, praying that there wasn’t a leak in your house. However, you were surprised when you open your tired eyes only to find Shouto staring right back at you, his teary eyes widening ever so slightly. Furrowing your brows, you moved so you were sitting upright, seating yourself in his lap as you took ahold of his face, softly brushing the stray tears away from his face.
“Honey,” You whispered, your voice thick with sleep, “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t respond, instead opting to shove his face into your chest, not wanting you to see him at his most vulnerable state. For a small moment, the gesture shocks you, but you immediately wrap your entire frame over his, as if you can somehow protect him from the impending negative thoughts. 
The two of you just sit there in silence, with you stroking the back of his head while he holds onto you as though your his lifeline. Though you want to question what has him so upset, you’re scared that he’ll shut you out and pretend that everything’s fine. However, as the silent sobs coming from the man don’t seem to be stopping any time soon, you steel your nerves, patting his shoulder in order to get his attention. While he doesn’t move his head, you do feel him freeze, and you take that as your opportunity to speak:
“Are you hurt?”
It takes a few moments, but eventually you feel him shake his head, and you hum, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “No? Do you want to talk about it?”
His reply is instant this time, his head rapidly shaking side to side. You can feel his arms tighten around you, every muscle in his body growing tenser by the minute. Cooing, you rub his back soothingly.
“That’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it,” You spoke, your voice laced with concern, “Just know that I love you, and I’m here for you,”
While you were only trying to get him to relax, it seemed as though you did the opposite of your intended effect. Rather than feeling him sag into your hold, you felt him grow even more stiff, and you couldn’t help the small sound of confusion that left your throat. Pulling yourself away from him, you tried to look into his eyes, only to end up failing. 
“Shouto,” He flinched, it was rare of you to call his name, he was used to you calling him those silly pet names that he’d pretended to hate, “Please tell me what’s wrong,”
He felt your hands reach for his, wrapping them around his larger ones. As you squeezed them, he still refused to look at you, and that alone made you even more anxious. It wasn’t everyday that Shouto cried in front of you, and, if you were honest, it had you worried. It made you feel terrible, knowing that he probably had been holding whatever was bothering him in for a while, and that you’d never even noticed. 
Cupping his cheek with your hand, you felt your own eyes get teary, “What happened? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
He couldn’t help but scoff. Here he was, getting upset at the fact that he’s been an awful partner, taking advantage of your love and kindness, and you were wondering if there was anything you could do to make it better. When he saw the look on your face though, he sighed, figuring that he may as well rip off the bandaid.
“I just,” He starts, his voice faltering just the slightest bit, “Am I enough?”
You tilt your head, even more confused than when you had woken up. “What do you mean?”
This time, he looks right at you, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You watch as he bites his lip, worrying the flesh between his teeth as he decides on what to say next.
“Am I enough for you?”
“Of course,” You say without any hesitation, desperately trying to get your point across, “You’re more than enough.”
Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, as Shouto pulls away from your touch, rubbing his eyes roughly. “You don’t have to lie to me,”
You weren’t sure where any of this was coming from, and frankly, it was a little too early for your brain to be processing such important topics. However, you forced yourself to focus, your voice becoming steadier than before.
“Why would I lie? Shouto, you’re one of the best things to happen to me, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” Leaning closer, but not too close to invade his personal space, you lowered your voice, “Let me in that pretty head of yours, don’t lock me out.”
It took a while for him to even register your words, and, for a moment, you were sure that he was ignoring you. However, after a few more moments of silence, Shouto looks up once more, though, this time his eyes are focused on something beside you, and you figure that he’s doing his best to keep his cool.
You can tell that this is hard for him, and you’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to speak, but he beats you to the punch.
“You’re so caring,” He starts, and you feel yourself grow even more confused, if that were possible, “You always put my needs before your own, you’re always making sure that I’m okay. Whenever I’m upset you try to make me laugh, even if it ends up embarrassing you. Hell, you even drove halfway across town one time because I told you about a bakery I liked when I was younger just to get me something.
Every time you tell me you love me I feel a pit in my stomach because you deserve someone who doesn’t take your kindness for granted. You deserve someone who’ll do the same things for you,”
Laughing bitterly, he turns away, his eyes now trained on the window by your bed, “You deserve someone who can actually say it back,”
The two of you sit in silence for a long while, with you trying to digest what he just said, and him doing his best to not fall apart even more so. Finally, you speak up, voicing your thoughts:
“Is that what you think?”
When he doesn’t respond, you close the gap between the two of you, plopping yourself right back onto his lap and squishing both cheeks in your palms, forcing him to look at you. Your heart breaks at the sight of his bloodshot eyes, how puffy they look, how vulnerable he looks.
“Todoroki Shouto, I will say this as many times as you need me to: you are the only man that I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t know where you got the idea that you’re not enough for me, but let me tell you right now, you’re even more than what I could’ve possibly hoped for. Just because you don’t say ‘I love you’ doesn’t mean that I don’t know it. There are other ways that you show it,”
When he scoffed again, you squished his cheeks even tighter, though you made sure not to accidentally hurt him. “What, you don’t believe me?”
The silence between the two of you was rather telling, and you were about to fill it up with every single act of love Shouto’s ever done for you.
“Fine, then I guess I’ll just list them for you,” You started, shifting your weight so you were a bit more comfortable, “Every time that we’re out you always make an effort to hold my hand because you’re worried that I’ll get lost, and I find that to be the most endearing thing in the world. You also make sure to hold me as tight as you can whenever one of us has to leave the other, even if it’s for dumb, mundane things like me heading to my gym class. Oh, and don’t forget that whenever I’ve had a hard day at work, you always seem to somehow know, and you pick up my favorite meal from that little corner restaurant because neither of us can cook and you know how irritated I get when I’m hungry.
You love me unconditionally, even on my worst days, when I feel like I don’t deserve your patience. It doesn’t matter to me whether or not you say ‘I love you’ back, because I know that you do. I don’t say it because I expect a response from you, I say it because I can’t help it. Because whenever I’m with you, I want you to know just how much need you, how much I care for you.”
Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you smile when he doesn’t pull away this time. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to see that you were upset, I should’ve been more observant,”
Shouto’s head immediately shakes back and forth, vigorously disagreeing with you. “No, it’s not your fault. I should’ve just told you what was going on, instead of keeping it all to myself,”
For a while, the two of you just sit there, staring at each other as if it were the first time you’d met. You traced the bottom of his scar while his hands played with the hem of your top, his hands occasionally going under the fabric to rub your back with his warm hands. Occasionally, you’d pepper his face with kisses, each one littered with an abundance of compliments. 
After a while, the tiredness from earlier had begun to seep into your bones, and Shouto seemed to sense this as well, as he pulled the two of you under the covers, his body covering yours. As sleep began to take over once more, you pressed one final kiss to his lips, a tired smile resting on your face.
“Don’t think we’re done with this conversation mister,” You yawned, rubbing your eyes, “Be prepared to get a whole truck load of loving coming your way,”
Laughing to himself, he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. 
“I can’t wait,”
188 notes · View notes
Text
Parent Trap
Part 1
A/N: It’s here yall. The Marcus Moreno x Reader Parent Trap AU. There are some swears. Some point of view switching but I note it in bold. 
‘Thoughts’ “Speak” 
Tumblr media
The Hero:
Marcus Moreno was in the middle of meeting with the Heroics. Going over assignments, and potential threats to be on the lookout. He was listening to Miracle Guy talk about something ridiculous when his cellphone went off. He glanced down, and his eyes widen in surprised. It was Missy’s school.
He quickly answered it, saying, “Hello?”
“Hello, Mr. Moreno? This is Principal O’Shaughnessy. If you could please come down to the school, as soon as possible. There’s been an incident involving your daughter and two other students,” Came an older male voice.
“I’m on my way,” Marcus got up and rushed out, not caring that he left in the middle of a meeting.
The Artist:
Y/N Graves was a simple woman. She worked as artist, which meant she was often home, elbow deep into whatever project she was working on currently. That was where she was when her phone rang.
She dropped her paint brush to answer it with a cheery, “‘Ello?”
“Miss Graves, this is Principal O’Shaughnessy, your daughter Artemis? Was involved in an incident at school with two other students. If you could please come as soon as possible,” Came a man’s voice.
“Be there soon,” She hung up, quickly cleaning her brushes before she left.
She hopped into her car and drove to the school; thankful it was only a couple blocks away. She made her way inside and to the principal’s office. She stops short when she sees her daughter standing near another little girl, with long curly black hair and dark eyes. Before noticing the third kid, a boy, who was sitting in a plastic chair, with a black eye and tissues up his nose to stop the bleeding.
“What the fu—frick?” She whispered taking in everything with slight horror.
Artemis giggled softly at her almost swearing. She goes to say something to her when she felt someone crash into her from behind. She stumbled forward trying to regain her balance. She turned around to yell but stopped.
“Marcus?” She asked staring at a face she hadn’t seen in years.
“Shade?” He parroted calling her by her nickname, one she hadn’t heard in years.
She then asked, “Please tell me that one is not yours,” pointing at the boy.
“No. The other one behind you,” Marcus said with a chuckle.
Before they could say much more a woman with dyed hair, lululemons and a tank top came in, her voice high-pitched with outrage at the sight of her kid.
“What happened to my baby!?” She screeched out.
The Principal cleared his throat at that time, to gain everyone’s attention. Shade moved over to stand by her daughter, as Marcus did the same.
“Mrs. Delaney, it appears that your son was bullying, Miss Moreno here. Miss Moreno tried to walk away from him several times, but your son continued to follow her, and even began shoving her. That was when Miss Graves stepped in, and punched your son,” Mr. O’Shaughnessy explained reading off an incident report.
“Or at least that was what stated from the teacher’s watching. Miss Moreno, would you like to tell us what happened?” He directed his attention to Marcus’ daughter.
“Tommy was teasing me about not having active powers. He kept saying mean things like ‘oh your dad must be disappointed in having a lame daughter.’ And stuff like that. I tried to walk away from him several times, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. Artemis came over and told him to go away. When he didn’t, she punched him, telling him to leave me alone,” Missy recounted staring at the ground.
“What lies! My Tommy would never! I hope you plan on punishing them!” Mrs. Delaney exclaimed angrily.
Shade rolled her eyes to the high heavens and stared at this dramatic woman, pointedly.
“My daughter defended her friend. Against a bully. If anyone should be punished, it should be your kid. It’s not our fault you raised an ass,” Shade sassed, crossing her arms.
Mrs. Delaney gasped in exaggerated horror, even going so far as to covering her son’s ears. The girls giggled quietly at her, and Marcus was trying not to laugh.
“Mrs. Graves, if you could please refrain from the foul language. Mrs. Delaney, I have warned you multiple times about Tommy’s behaviors. This is the last straw. He will be suspended for 2 weeks. As for Miss Graves, seeing as this is your first offense, you will get a warning. I do not tolerate fighting on school grounds, got it?” Mr. O’Shaughnessy cut in.
Mrs. Delaney grabbed her son, muttering something ‘I have never..’  and left.
The kids still have a couple hours left of class, but the principal gave them permission to leave early if they wished. The girls went and got their bags and whatever assignments they were going to miss for the day. Marcus and Shade stood outside by the entrance waiting for them.
The Kids:
Missy looked over at Artemis and asked, “So. You saw our parents act weird when they saw each other right?”
Artemis nodded as she grabbed her jacket and bag. “They clearly know each other. Did you see the way they looked at each?”
“All goo-goo eyed? Yes! I haven’t seen my dad look like that since…” Missy trailed off, thinking in her head, ‘since before my mom passed away.’
Artemis, who had made fast friends with Missy when she moved here a month ago, knew what she was thinking of. Artemis reached out and held her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Missy smiled at her in response and the 2 of them walked out to their parents.
Artemis looked at her mom and Missy’s dad and got an idea, “Mom, can we go get ice cream? I know that fighting is bad and all, but I was defending my friend.”
Her mom sighed, and looked at the two of them, with squinting eyes. She turned to Missy’s dad and said, “What do ya think? Think they’ve earned a treat?”
The Hero:
He looked at the kids and then back at Shade, who had a soft smile. “Sure. Why not?”
The girls cheered and rushed to the cars. “Uh. Pops on 15th St. sound good?” He asked.
“That place still exists? Damn,” Shade chuckled looking off to the side. “Uh. Yeah. Pops sounds good to me. See ya there in a minute.”
Marcus smiled, lightly biting his lip before making his way to his car, as Shade did the same.
Missy was already in the backseat, buckled up and ready to go. The drive to Pops was a quick 10 minutes, and as they made there way inside, they noticed Shade and Artemis hadn’t arrived yet, so they took a seat in a booth. Missy insisted that she sit on the outside, and Marcus complied with a shake of his head.
He heard the door opened and looked up to see Shade standing there and he was thrown back to all the times he took her here on a date. She was still just as beautiful as he remembered her.
The Artist:
As Shade stepped inside, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Pops still looked the same as it did when she was a teenager. She finds Marcus easy enough; he too looked a little dazed at being back here.
Her and Artemis go to join them, Artemis insisting to sit on the outside as well. Shade rolled her eyes and allowed it this one time.
The waitress came up and took their orders. 15 minutes passed and soon 4 milkshakes, 2 large and 2 kids sized in to-go cups, were set in front of them. The girls grabbed theirs and ran off to sit at another table, giggling.
“I feel like we are being set-up,” Shade whispered with a raised eyebrow.
“Possibly,” Marcus agreed, before clearing his throat.
“So. How.. How have you been?” He asked awkwardly.
“Been pretty good. I see you’ve been busy,” She quietly teased nodding to his wedding ring.
“Oh! Um. Yeah. But… uh… not,” He stammered trying to respond.
Shade gave him a look of sudden realization, “How long?”
“About 6 years. Cancer,” He answered lowly not wanting Missy to hear.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I bet she was wonderful,” She said with a sad smile.
“She was. Umm. Ahem. What about you? Ever get married or got someone special waiting at home?” he asked trying to redirect the attention off of him.
“Nope. Uh. Had a boyfriend for a couple years. He left the day I told him I was pregnant. So. It’s been just the 2 of us ever since,” Shade explained after taking a long sip from her milkshake.
“Then he didn’t deserve either of you,” Marcus replied, his voice soft.
Shade smiled, looking down to hide her face.
She cleared her throat and noticed out of the corner of her eye, Missy and Artemis were watching them intently.
“Marcus… I think our kids are trying to set us up,” She muttered. “Glance over at them casually.”
Marcus does so and sees the two of them trying to act nonchalantly but were very much keeping an eye on them.
He chuckled, “No. They’re just.. Concerned. They’re best friends who want to make sure we get along.”
“Mh. I don’t know. My kid can be quite devious. Her favorite movie is The Parent Trap. Well. Next to The Mummy,” Shade wasn’t convinced.
Marcus laughed at that and stared at her softly.
“Not gonna lie… I’ve missed you,” Marcus admitted.
“I missed you as well. Maybe um.. Maybe we can set up a day to catch up?” Shade offered hopeful.
“I’d like that, maybe Saturday? We can leave the kids with my mom for the day. We can… go to the park or that café you like so much? Well. If you still like it that is,” Marcus rambled slightly.
“I do. Sounds like a date,” Shade said confirming the idea.
They exchanged numbers and finished their shakes, before rounding up their kids.
She waved goodbye to him as they parted ways.
Artemis was bouncing up and down in her seat.
“Clearly, you are having a sugar overload, guess we need to work that off,” Shade stated, shaking her head.
“No. Just happy. How do you know Mr. Moreno, mama?” Artemis asked as they began to drive off.
“We dated in high school, and through a good portion of college,” Shade explained glancing back at her through the rear-view mirror.
“Oh. Why did you break up?” Artemis asked curiously.
“He was becoming a pretty famous Heroic and I was making a name for myself in the art field. We drifted. We hardly ever saw each other and when we did, we argued a lot. So, we figured it was better if we broke up,” Shade acknowledged with a sad sigh.
“But… you still like him? And he clearly likes you?” Artemis questioned, looking confused.
“Yes. I do still like him, and how do you know he likes me?” Shade countered with a grin.
“He stared at you like Rick does when he sees Evy,” Artemis said matter of factly, referencing The Mummy.
Shade laughed at how seriously she said that. ‘Kids.’
The Hero:
Missy looked at her dad and smiled at the dreamy face he was making.
“You like her?” Missy asked with a silly smile.
“I do. Does that bother you? Me liking someone?” Marcus asked worriedly.
“Dad. I don’t think mom would be mad if you moved on. I just want you to be happy. You work so much to make me happy and when you’re not with me, you’re saving the world. I think you deserve to be happy too,” Missy assured hugging him.
“When did you get so smart?” He asked, returning the hug.
“I learned from you, duh,” She answered cutely.
“Now you’re just sucking up. C’mon. Let’s go home. I have a lot of explaining to do for running out in the middle of a meeting,” Marcus said as the two of them hopped into the car.
“Also. I hope you know… I have never been disappointed in you not having active powers. You’re my daughter and I love you so much. Your power is far more special than being able to fly or run fast.” He mentioned looking back at her.
Missy nodded her head muttering, “I love you too. Thank you.”
The Kids:
That night, Missy and Artemis texted one another, concocting a plan to get their parents together. Their plan was slightly devious, but it was their parents own good. They just hoped it would work.
101 notes · View notes
nah-she-didnt · 3 years
Text
A Home Cooked Meal
Now on AO3!! 
--------
Lily was in trouble.
She’d tried everything. She’d used muggle pregnancy tests, downed a magical pregnancy detector potion, and even read books about how a normal, healthy, not-pregnant nineteen year old could miss her period for two months in a row. But it was no good. Lily was nineteen, a full-time soldier in the Order of the Phoenix, and pregnant.
She had so far avoided telling her sweet, sensitive, nineteen year old boyfriend about her pregnancy. After all, life was hard enough these days without having a baby dropped in your lap. Lily reckoned it would be kinder to refrain from telling James about the baby for the next seven months, then one day give him the surprise of a lifetime. Yes, Lily thought, seven precious months of sanity before ruining his life was a foolproof plan.
Lily tried desperately to shove all thoughts of her pregnancy aside as she tried to focus on the present moment. She, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter sat in the living room of another Order member, sipping tea and snacking on biscuits. However, at that precise moment, Lily felt so nauseated that she wondered if it was possible to die from pregnancy hormones. 
Lily was quite sure that Arthur Weasley had been bulled into inviting the five of them over by his wife, Molly, after the last Order meeting when Sirius mentioned that the they had all been too busy with missions to cook for themselves for the last few months. As soon as Molly heard that the teenagers had been subsisting on nothing more than takeaway and cheese on toast she insisted that they all join her and Arthur for a home cooked meal.
Mrs. Weasley bustled around them now, offering them more tea and insisting that they call her “Molly.” She was an outgoing woman with a kind, round face and more energy than Lily had ever had in her life. How else could she take care of five little boys and another on the way?
“Now, I’m going to pop back into the kitchen and finish dinner. Arthur should be home from guard duty any moment now, so you all just relax and enjoy yourselves!” Mrs. Weasley beamed at them all, then slipped from the room.
Lily sat back in her seat on the couch and looked around, trying not to think about how sick she felt. The house was warm and inviting, but chaotic. Children’s toys littered the ground, and Lily was certain that the Weasleys had at least twelve small red-haired children running about the house. She had not remembered any of their names, but they all seemed to be full of reckless energy and looked exactly the same. This is my future, Lily thought to herself dejectedly as she watched one of the older boys, Will or Hermes or whatever his name was, sprint around the living room on a toy racing broom, cackling wildly.
Sirius seemed completely at ease with the children. He lay flat on his back with his arms sticking straight up in the air, holding one of the smaller boys under the armpits. The boy shrieked with delight as Sirius swung him from left to right and narrated a fictitious quidditch match in an affected announcer’s voice.
“And that’s Langley with the quaffle, Langley flies left, dodges Ghulam, rolls to miss a bludger from Bagman, feints right, shoots, LANGLEY SCOOOOOORES!”    
When Langley scored, Sirius swooped the child in a full circle above his own head, finally pausing when the boy was completely upside down and giggling madly. James watched Sirius with polite interest, though he clearly felt awkward around the small Weasley children.
“Blimey, Sirius, it’s too bad you played beater instead of commentating at school. I might have been able to find a beater who could actually fly.”
“You’re just jealous that you can’t chase as well as Langley does in my reenactment,” said Sirius with an easy smile, setting the child back on the ground. The boy clapped his hands together and screamed “Again! Again!”
Sirius obliged, grabbing the child this time by his ankles and swinging him through the air.
“Are you alright Lily?” Peter asked nervously, “you’re looking a little green.” 
“What? Oh, yes, fine,” said Lily distractedly. She purposefully avoided James’ gaze. 
Finally, the child called Fred seemed to tire of the quidditch match, and toddled off to play with his brother “Geowge.” Sirius lounged against the parlor table and popped a piece of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum into his mouth. 
“Blimey, I didn’t realize we were in the presence of Mary-bloody-Poppins over her.” 
“Don’t be grumpy because I’m good with kids and you aren’t!” Sirius exclaimed before blowing a large bubble that burst with a soft pop!
“Who says I’m bad with kids? Kids love me!” cried James, whipping around to look at Lily, Remus, and Peter for support. They all pointedly averted their eyes. 
Pop!
“Remus! What about that time I visited your house in Wales and there was that little muggle boy who lost his mum in the market? I was good with him! He got back to her safe and sound.” James pleaded.
“Yes... but you did ask him he’d kidnapped stolen by hinkypunks.”
James threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Oh come on! In Benny And The Hinkypunk the little boy gets kidnapped by hinkypunks, but he’s alright in the end! My mum told me that story all the time when I was a kid and I loved it. I was trying to cheer him up!”
“Yes, James, but he was a muggle,” said Remus patiently, “so all he knew was that a strange man was asking him if he’d been kidnapped!”
“Alright. Fair enough. But kids love me. Kids love me, don’t they Lily?”
Lily nearly spat her tea into her lap. “Pardon?”
“You think kids love me, right? I’m fun! I play quidditch! I own nearly every Zonko’s product!”
“Oh, right, yes James, I’m sure kids would...would love you.” Lily looked away quickly, trying to hide the tears that had begun to form in her eyes. Yes, she thought, James’ children would probably love him dearly. He’d be an incredible father, the perfect combination of jokester and role model. On the other hand, she couldn’t picture herself as a mother no matter how hard she tried. 
Pop!
“Sirius, if you don’t stop blowing bubbles, I’m going to murder you,” Peter moaned. 
“Can’t, shan’t.” Pop!   
Lily stood up suddenly. “I’m going to see if Mrs. Weasley needs any help in the kitchen.” 
“Oi, Pete, you go too,” said Sirius lazily from his spot on the floor, “make us look good.” 
“Stop blowing that stupid gum and go yourself!” Peter replied, chucking a small pillow from the couch at Sirius’ head.
Pop!
Lily walked away from the sounds of Sirius and Peter bickering and towards the kitchen. She knew she had never been in a house like this before. Every square inch was accounted for. Even the slats in the ceiling and the ledge over the doorways were built for extra storage. With five children, Lily thought, they  must need all the storage they could manage. 
Lily often thought that as a muggle born she could tell when a place felt overwhelmingly magical in a way that her friends who grew up around magic could not. The house seemed to positively radiate with warmth, comfort and magic. It must be a wonderful place to have a childhood.
Lily paused awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley had her back to Lily as she stirred a pot of something that smelled delightful on the stove. Lily, not wanting to scare Mrs. Weasley, coughed quietly to make her presence known. 
Molly looked around and smiled warmly at Lily.“Oh, hello dear, do you all need anything before dinner?”
“Uh, no thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Lily said as cheerfully as she could muster. She tried hard not to regard Mrs. Weasley’s significant bump underneath her apron. Lily didn’t know much about pregnancy, but she knew that Mrs. Weasley must be far along indeed. 
“Are you sure? I could make you a cup of ginger tea if you like.” Mrs. Weasley’s tone was casual, but Lily could just barely make out a knowing look in her eyes. 
“Yes, that sounds lovely, thank you,” Lily said nervously. Mrs. Weasley couldn’t possibly know, could she? Perhaps women who’d been pregnant before, especially women on their sixth pregnancy at least, had some sort of special pregnancy powers. No, that was silly, she was just being paranoid. 
“Here you are, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said as she placed a piping hot cup of tea in front of Lily, “I added in a slice of lemon. I always say, a lemon is just the trick for when you’re...not feeling your best.” 
Lily’s heart sunk. “How did you know?” she asked desperately, feeling close to tears.
“Know what?” Mrs. Weasley asked innocently, “I’m sure I don’t know--”
“You do. You know, and soon everyone will know because I won’t be able to hide it.” Lily sunk into one of the kitchen chairs and put her face in her hands. 
Mrs. Weasley was silent for a moment, then said “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I simply guessed, that’s all, and I never meant to let you know that I had. You’re glowing, my dear, but you still look miserable. I’ve only felt that way a few times in my life, and they all resulted in the boys that fill this house.”
Lily nodded, sniffing loudly. “I’m trying to hard to keep it together, but I just can’t hide. I feel awful all the time, and I know most of it is morning sickness but there’s also this huge weight in my heart and I can’t do anything to--to fix it.”
Mrs. Weasley nodded sympathetically. “I know just how you feel. I just saw you looking so miserable in there, and I remember how awful I felt every time I was in my first few weeks. A cup of ginger tea with lemon always soothed my stomach, so I thought it would help, but I see I’ve only made things worse.” 
Lily sighed into her hands, then dropped them to look at Mrs. Weasley. “You haven’t. Actually,” she said, realizing for the first time that it was true, “I’m relieved someone else knows. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell anyone else.” 
Mrs. Weasley covered Lily’s hand with her own and stroked it with her thumb. “It’s going to be alright. Whatever happens, you’ll see, it’s going to be alright.” 
“It’s not,” whispered Lily, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m a muggleborn. James and I swore we’d fight this war until it was finished. I can’t bring a baby into this mess? The baby of a mudblood and a blood traitor! How could I do that to an innocent child?” She was really sobbing now, and gratefully accepted the handkerchief that Mrs. Weasley produced from her apron pocket. 
“Now, you listen to me,” said Mrs. Weasley soothingly, but with authority, “you are the only one in the world who knows what’s best for you. You’ll be able to make the right decision, and if you raise a baby in this mess that baby will be the luckiest child in the world because it will have you for a mother.” 
Lily gave a forced chuckle. “It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’ve just doomed this baby, James, and myself all in one go.” She looked up into Mrs. Weasley’s concerned face. “But thank you for saying that. It’s nice to know that someone with so much mothering experience doesn’t think I’ll muck it all up.” 
Mrs. Weasley smiled at her. “Never, dear. You’ll be wonderful. Plus, I’ll be here to help,” she laid a hand across her round stomach, “you won’t be the only one dealing with the hormones and mood swings, will you?” 
Lily smiled. She was starting to feel a bit better. After all, Mrs. Weasley didn’t think she was a terrible person. She didn’t think that Lily had doomed James to a life of misery. Her heart sank again. James.
“I can’t tell him,” Lily said, shaking her head, “I can’t tell him. We’re so young. We haven’t even talked about marriage. How am I going to tell him that he’s going to be a dad?” 
“Surely you could tell him, couldn’t you?” Asked Mrs. Weasley kindly, “That boy is simply mad about you, everyone can see it. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth.” 
Lily laughed at this. It was true, James had told her as much himself. And she would do the same for him. 
“He’d be a wonderful dad. He’s just so young still, so...”
“Immature?” Mrs. Weasley said cheekily.
“Well, he’s more mature than most, but he’s nineteen years old! This should be the time that he has fun, not gets saddled with a baby.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, dear, but no one is able to have much fun these days,” Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly, “it’s times like these that people realize the most important things in life. Love. Family. A purpose beyond yourself.” 
That was true. It’s not as if a baby would interrupt James’ wild youth. This war had forced them all to grow up too quickly. James and Lily spent nearly all their time these days on the order, fighting for something bigger than themselves. James had already willingly taken on that responsibility, perhaps he would be ready to take on another. 
“I really think you should tell him, Lily. Give him the chance to react, then decide what you’re going to do together. Who knows, he might surprise you by being more mature than you think--”
At that moment, there was a loud howl from the next room like a wounded animal. Remus came bolting into the kitchen, then, upon seeing the two women sitting and talking, stopped suddenly. He tried to arrange his face into a calm expression then asked, “um, pardon me, Mrs.--uh--Molly, would you by chance know how to get--uh--chewing gum out of someone’s hair?”
Suddenly James came hurdling into the kitchen too, supporting a limp and partially-blind Sirius with him. Sirius had been rendered partially-blind by the infamous piece of chewing gum that was currently stretched across his face, held in front of his eyes by the bits of wavy hair that framed his face.
“MOLLY!” he screamed, clutching at the air in front of him in panic, “HELP ME! MY HAIR! MY BEAUTIFUL HAIR!” 
“There was, um, an incident in the living room,” James snickered. He was clearly trying, and failing miserably, to keep his shoulders from shaking with laughter at his best friend’s misfortune. “Peter here--”
“I told him to stop blowing those stupid bubbles!” Peter cried indignantly. “I told him! I don’t regret it in the slightest.” 
“Because of you engorging my bubble my hair is ruined!” Sirius tried to swipe for Peter with his outstretched arm, but caught Remus by mistake. “Ouch!” “Ooh, sorry Remus, love! I was trying to catch a rat.” 
“Boys, boys!” Mrs. Weasley shouted, getting to her feet. “I have five children, I am perfectly capable of removing chewing gum from hair without any lasting damage.
“You promise?” sniffed Sirius, who was gently caressing his affected locks. 
“I promise. Now, everyone, stand back and go into the other room. I need room to work...” 
Lily, James, Remus, and Peter all trudged into the next room. 
“Nice one, Pete,” said James, still laughing. 
“Oh he can bugger off, the dramatic git,” said Peter, though he was smiling too, “his hair will be fine.”
“It better be. How will he react when he finds out I’m only with him for his thick, luscious locks?” laughed Remus. 
“Hey,” James said to Lily, bumping her shoulder with his, “you’re quiet. Was the great gum-hair incident of 1979 not entertaining enough for you?” 
“No, of course it was,” Lily forced herself to smile, “I’m just taking it in. It’ll be quite a shock at first, but I suppose I can get used to a bald Sirius Black. Let’s just hope his skull is a normal shape.”
“Precisely!” cried James, “ We’ll just have to let him know that we love him no matter what, right?”
“Right,” said Lily weakly. God, he would be a fantastic dad. 
A few minutes later, Sirius and Mrs. Weasley re-entered the living room, Sirius’ hair gum-free and unaffected. He shot a dirty look at Peter. 
“I’m going to get you back for that.” 
Peter shrugged. “I’m sure you will. Now, Molly, can we help at all with dinner?” 
“No, no, you all just stay here and try not to cause any more trouble. I have enough to worry about with my children running about, I don’t need four more!” 
“Four? What about Lily!” cried Sirius indignantly. 
“Oh, I think Lily has wisdom beyond all your years,” Molly said, winking at Lily. “Arthur will be back soon, then we can sit down to eat.” And with that, Mrs. Weasley disappeared again into the kitchen. 
“Wow, you two really must have bonded in there,” James said with an impressed tone. “What did you talk about?”
“Oh, you know, girly stuff, you wouldn’t be interested.”
“I beg to differ! I love girly stuff I’ll have you know.” James said with mock indignance.
“Girly magazines don’t count, dolt.” 
“Ha ha ha,” James laughed sarcastically, “just you wait, Evans. One day you’ll realize there’s much more to me than meets the eye.” 
Lily looked at James out of the corner of her eye. James, who had protected Remus and kept his secret for years. James, who had taken Sirius in when he ran away from home. James, who watched out for Peter and stopped Sirius from picking on him too much, because that’s just who he was. He would always look out for those who needed him. And she needed him now more than ever. 
“Maybe you’re right.” Lily smiled. 
Somehow, she thought that maybe this would work. 
106 notes · View notes
fallingfor-fics · 3 years
Text
Teachers Pet-chapter 19: the universe
Tumblr media
All chapters
chapter 18
Nothing crazy happened in DADA today and I was heading to potions with Draco, we were going over the properties of Amortentia in hopes to brew it perfectly with no mishaps. I was also a bit worried, I was aware that the way it smells is different for each person, and I was afraid to find out what mine smelt like. We walked into class and took our seats, still quizzing each other on each step. 
The bell rang and everyone was seated waiting for instructions. "Open your books to page 324 and begin prepping your tables as usual, all the ingredients are here and you know where your supplies are, get started and let me know if you have any questions, please do not make me have to take my time to clean up any messes." he said coldly and sat back down in his chair. I went up and got the cauldron and our ingredients. "Ok Y/n would you like to do the honors and I'll stir it this time?" Draco asked smiling "If you really trust me then yes" I said laughing, I worked on this for so long with Snape so I should be able to do it perfectly! I just needed to focus and not overthink it, it was a simple potion and if Draco can do it, so can I. I added peppermint flowers and leaves, powdered moonstone, and Draco stirred between each teaspoon, I then sprinkled in the rose thorns and placed in the Ashwinder eggs. Draco watched closely as I did so making sure I was getting everything correct. After letting it sit we uncovered it and stirred it counterclockwise and it took on its pearl sheen. I smiled wide and refrained from jumping up and down. "Hell yes" I whispered to Draco "We did it!" he said high fiving me. I looked up at Snape and we made eye contact. I motioned to the cauldron and smiled, to which he returned with a very small faint one and turned back to his work. I felt butterflies again and a sense of joy that I succeeded for him again.
"Ok now take a whiff Y/n'' Draco said, "What? no you first" I said afraid of what may happen. "Ok ok fine." he leaned over and took in a light sniff, I looked at him expectantly, "Well?" I questioned looking at him thinking of what it smelt like "Hmm it smells sweet like warm cookies and pumpkin juice" he said with a confused look, "ha you know who likes pumpkin juice?" I said teasing, "Who?" he questioned seriously trying to figure out who it was, "Harry" I said smiling. "Oh buzz off Y/n It certainly does not smell like Potter, that's absolutely revolting" he said a little too defensive, I shrugged my shoulders and giggled, "Your turn! Better hope it doesn't smell like Filch!" he said trying to tease me like I did him, I cringed at the idea and leaned over the cauldron I took a deep breath preparing myself, I closed my eyes and took in a small whiff, "Well what do you smell?" Draco said, waiting. I opened my eyes and took it in, "Um, just pine trees and rain" I said lying, I took another whiff and the scent of old leather shoes, parchment, and firewhiskey filled my nose, I closed my eyes once more taking it in and letting it linger, "I'm gonna use the restroom" I said to Draco, walking past Snape not bothering to ask and exiting the class, I quickly walked outside, shaking hands and began to take deep breaths, counting to ten and doing everything in my power to keep the tears that brimmed at the edges of my eyes in. I can't. I couldn't deal with this right now, none of this made any sense. A hot tear ran down my cheek and I quickly swiped it away. No not right now, not here. I closed my eyes shut and the smell lingered in my brain. How could this be possible? I leaned over my hands on my face, trying to slow my heart back down. How could it smell like him?
"Mr. Malfoy where did Ms. L/n just run off too?" Snape asked, noticing she darted from the room. "She said she had to use the restroom, I'm guessing it was an emergency." Draco stated. "Yes, well pour the potion into a vial and get to cleaning up" he ordered the boy and walked out of his room.
I looked to the sky again wanting to scream at the universe. Of all the people in the world. There had to be something wrong with the potions? Or my nose? There's no possible way this was real? I mean there's no way he's- I began crying at the thought that the one person for me was the one person I couldnt have. "This was just supposed to be some silly little crush and now I've just found out my whole future" I sighed to myself. I refuse to believe it, I must have it mistaken, I mean lots of people probably smell like this, its very popular scents. I thought as I wiped my tears, the pressure was getting to me and I couldn't help it. There was a light mist falling and my hair grew a tad frizzy and my skin damp. "Ms. L/n what's going on?" I stood up straight at the sound of his voice. No. why is he out here what's he doing? "Nothing, I'm fine I'll be back in a minute" I said, trying my best to sound like I hadn't been crying. Now wasn't the time I needed him here to comfort me, I wanted more than anything to run and hug him and let him hold me in his arms, but the thoughts of what this all meant were reminding me of why I couldnt and why I'd never be able to. "Did Mr. Malfoy say something?" he pressed on "What? No, I said I'm fine" I said sniffling quietly and still not turning to look at him, "You can't just run out of class Y/n, what happened?" he said in a more stern but soft voice walking closer to me. "I just needed some air, that's all I felt l-lightheaded" I said, tears forming again as I thought about the scent that was now growing closer to me. "Do you need to go to the infirmary?" he asked, slowly growing closer. "No, I'm fine" I said thinking about what the hell I'm going to do with this information. I mean what does this mean? Am I gonna be alone? Will it change once these feelings pass and I can find someone else? I knew the answers to these, but I wasn't going to accept there was nothing I could do.
"Y/n tell me what's the matter?" he said putting his hand on my arm and turning me to face him, I looked down tears still flowing down my face, this situation was becoming all too familiar. Why did we keep finding ourselves here? "Y/n." he said, wanting me to spill my heart out like id done in the tower, but I wasn't going to, I couldn't, "Y/n come on." he said in a calm tone. I looked up to him wiping my tears and then looked off to the side. "I can't, it's none of your business." I said in a calm but stern tone. "You said we were friends right? So tell me what troubles you or else I may need to inform Albus." he said, not taking his gaze from me. I looked up at him "Are you going to continue to threaten me with my godfather everytime I dont tell you something?" I said upset he was using this factor against me, "As long as it works yes" he said with a slight smirk. "When you brew Amortentia what do you smell?" I asked looking at him in his eyes, they flashed with a sense of regret and he looked away for a moment "I don't see how that matters?" he said looking back at me. "Well when I did it, I smelt the same someone I was troubled over at the tower, and I'm not sure what kind of sick joke the universe keeps playing, but i'm not gonna be able to withstand the...humiliation any longer.'' I spat out getting more frustrated and another tear falling. He sighed and looked at me, "No don't say anything, I need to get back to class, just pretend this never happened ok?" I said wiping my tears and looking up at him. His hair was lightly dusted with mist and his face looked sadder than normal, he looked empathetic and concerned, his skin beautifully painted with the damp water and his dark eyes clear through the mist. He looked so handsome. I walked past him and headed back inside not wanting to risk him reading my thoughts and picking up on my emotions and what was causing them.
   Draco didnt question anything and after class I went to visit Albus before dinner. I needed family right now and some of his wise words. I waited outside his office and it opened up. I walked in and was greeted by the kind old man. "Ahh evening dear, how are you?" he said smiling as I just silently walked over and hugged him, "Oh whats wrong my child? Bad day?" I laughed lightly and let go, he sat down in his chair, hands crossed as I paced back and forth. "You could say that." I said sarcastically. "We brewed Amortentia in potions today" I said slowly walking around his office. "Oh and how did that go?" he said innocently, I know he knows everything, so I know he knows I didn't have the easiest time. "I just feel like the whole universe is against me you know?" I asked laughing. "Yes I'm aware of the feeling" he said smiling still. I went and sat down, my feet draped over the arm of the chair. "Is it possible someones cursed me?" I said looking at him. "Possible, but unlikely" he said offering me a lemon drop. I took it and popped it in my mouth. "Well if karmas real, what did I do to deserve this punishment?" I questioned looking up at the ceiling. "Well what happened that you believe is a punishment?" he asked patiently. I looked at him and swung my legs back over to face him. "I smelled the potion, and it told me that i'm never gonna be happy" I said shrugging "Do smells talk to you often y/n? He said grinning through his half moon spectacles. "Haha you know what I mean." "Well how can you be certain? Is the person dead?" he asked looking at me. "No" I said in a small tone. "Is the person in Azkaban?" I looked at him noticing what he was doing "Nooo." He placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward a bit, "then how can you be sure?" he questioned. I pondered for a moment, "You don't understand, I literally can't be with this person, they'd never feel the same, and it just won't work." I said sighing, "Well the universe is never against you my dear, it may feel so, but everything that happens, no matter good or bad, happens for a reason. And the universe has a plan, so if it wanted you to know your person is easily accessible, for lack of better words, then it would have. Never underestimate its powers." I listened deeply and took in everything he said. "So you're saying it is possible this may not be as irrational as it seems?" I said still confused "Im saying its more than possible." I smiled up at him and walked around his desk hugging him. "Thank you" I said smiling and waving as I headed to leave for dinner.
36 notes · View notes
tangtownie · 3 years
Text
Questioning Authority - Reader Insert x Bucky Barnes
Author’s Note: So, I saw someone commenting on TFATWS TV-series and while their comment made no sense to me, it ignited something in me. Which then lead to this, so I’m sorry and you’re welcome.
Also, I was kinda tipsy while writing this, so I might regret it in the morning, who knows? As always, the dividers are by the talented @firefly-graphics​ 
Tried to make some time jumps that seemed natural, so I would love some feedback on whether or not that worked? Or feedback in general, a girl really ain’t picky. Might write a real smutty continuation to this. 
Also, writing for a new hottie this time, so hopefully some of you will like that! 
Warnings: Reader is a BRAT, also a massive flirt, cursing, talk of a foot fetish, so much sexual tension, mention of alcohol and drinking, reader is kind of a bitch to this guy she’s dating, description of drunk reader, descriptions of smut but nothing more than reader’s own fantasies.
Song Inspiration: Shut Up by The Black Eyed Peas
Word count: 2.077
Tumblr media
It had stemmed from honest curiosity. It really had. I was genuinely looking for an answer to my question and who better to question than the sources themselves? But the way Bucky’s entire body had tensed: his eyebrows furrowed, jaw clicking loudly as he barred his teeth, biceps and shoulders flexing in tandem with his fists and the slow, barely controlled breaths that escaped him. It was a damn sight. My hand suddenly twitched with want, although it was impossible to tell if I wanted to touch Bucky or myself the most.
Sam had cackled loudly, albeit shortly, as Bucky send his killer glare in Sam’s direction. It was a much better reaction than any answer I could’ve ever wished for. A smug smirk wrapped around my lips as a thrilling rush surged through my body at the thought of all the potential havoc I could wreak. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Bucky, I really did. But the thought of riling him up, whether it was with anger or something else, always sent a thrill through me that I couldn’t quite explain.
There was something so ridiculously attractive about Bucky when he was pissed. Maybe it was the subconscious, and yet never-ending, flexing, maybe it his scowl. Maybe it was just him. I had been careful, though, I didn’t need him to know exactly why I always seemed to be the one pissing him off. So, I tried my hardest to maintain an indifferent look on my face, as I prompted them for an answer again.
“Well?” I said. “Should I call Sam Captain or not?” A loud grunt escaped Bucky; almost like just hearing those words were hurting him. “I mean after all, Steve did give the shield to Sam, so it only makes sense that Sam would also inherit his title.” I shrugged casually, like my conclusion was the only logical one. Which to be fair… it was.
Bucky’s eyes were cold as steel, a small muscle clenching in his jaw giving away just how much restraint it was taking him to keep quiet. I felt a shiver ripple down my spine at the thought of that look being directed at me. Sam, however, was openly smirking at my suggestion and my resolve finally broke as he leaned over the counter toward me. “Oh, you definitely should.” Sam’s voice was low and teasing. His smirk was mirrored on my lips as I leaned forward towards him as well. “Oh yeah? You like that, Captain?” I put on my most sultry voice, practically purring the title back at Sam.
Bucky scoffed loudly, a fresh wave of annoyance and distaste washing over his face. “Could you at least hold off on that until I’ve left the room?” Bucky’s voice was clipped, and for a second I felt bad for him, but only for a second. “What’s the point, James?” I raised my eyebrow with a condescending glance in his direction. “You could hear us through the walls, anyway.” A triumphant smirk curled around my lips as Sam’s boisterous laughter filled the room.
Bucky stared coldly at me; his jaw clenching like crazy and that vein in his neck pounding like it was about to pop. “Stop calling me that.” He practically hissed at me and I could feel my face flush with heat. Fuck, I loved it when he hissed at me. “It’s your name, isn’t it, James?” I said it casually, slowly pushing myself back up from the counter that I had been leaning on.
Bucky eyes quickly flitted down to my boobs that were practically spilling out of my bra and tank top and another smirk wrapped around my lips. Sam and I shared a look, as Bucky continued ogling my boobs. I wondered if Bucky had noticed my pierced nipples yet. I had always had a feeling that they would drive him crazy once he did. Suddenly, Bucky seemed to realize that he had been staring and he turned and stormed out of the room. Laughing gleefully, I couldn’t help myself as I yelled out after him. “See you later, James.”
---
I was lounging in the common room, my favourite sweatpants on, the ones with ‘juicy’ written across my ass, while I was painting my toenails. It was kind of stating the obvious as anyone with eyes could see that my ass was fucking spectacular, but I loved the attention and the sparkle. I was going on a date with Oliver later, so I had chosen a deep red nail polish for my toes. A classic look for a reason.
I briefly glanced up at the sound of someone entering. Bucky had stopped in the threshold of the room, almost like he had changed his mind after seeing me. While refraining from rolling my eyes, I simply said: “Hello James.” Even without looking at him, I could sense his jaw clenching and a wave of annoyance rolled off of him. “That is not my name.” He bit harshly, before throwing himself on the couch opposite of me.
“Whatever you say, James.” I kept my eyes peeled on my toes, as I worked patiently. He grumbled something underneath his breath before angrily picking up the remote and zapping through the channels. Bucky zapped back and forth for a solid 10 minutes before he groaned loudly and turned the TV off again. “What are you doing anyway?” He asked impatiently. Frankly, I was surprised that he even tried to start a conversation with me, but I wasn’t about to let it show.
“Painting my toenails, James.” I said calmly, briefly interrupted by his deep groan as I kept insisting on calling him by his given name. “Why? You bored? Want me to paint yours next?” A smirk curled around my lips as I imagined Bucky walking around the compound with my Bahama Mama polish on his toenails. He stared at me incredulously at my suggestion. “Why the fuck would I want that?”
I couldn’t help but scoff at his question, finally making eye contact with him. “To draw some attention away from those nasty dinosaur feet of yours, James. I mean have you even heard of a pumice stone?” My lie was as convincing, as my tone was condescending and Bucky glared at me in response. Thankfully, he seemed to buy it. It wasn’t really a lie, but I also didn’t particularly feel like sharing the real reason why I was painting my toenails.
How in the hell would I even go about explaining to him that I was trying to get back on my date’s good side? He would just want to know why, which I was never fucking telling him, and why painting my toenails was the way to do it, although that one really should’ve been obvious. I couldn’t very well tell Bucky that my date was upset with me, because the last time we’d had sex I had accidently called him by Bucky’s name.
A shudder went through me when I thought about how Bucky might react. Would he like it as much as I did? I could imagine him wrapping his hand around my throat and roughly pulling me into his lap, still with that displeased, almost mocking expression on his face and his free hand ghosting over my pussy while he drilled me. How often did I think about him? Did I always picture him when I was with other men? And if I told him everything that I had thought about with him and asked real nice, maybe he would give it to me.
A loud scoff broke my train of thought and, as I became aware that I was not sprawled across Bucky’s lap completely at his mercy, disappointment filled me. “Are you even listening to me?” His sharp voice broke the last fragments of my illusion. Swallowing drily, I simply said: “No.” Bucky’s eyes rolled so far back into his head that they might just get stuck. “God, you’re such a brat!” I swallowed back an excited moan, as he leaned over the coffee table toward me, his voice practically seething. I wanted so badly to just weave my fingers through his hair and yank him to me.
Instead, I sent him my signature smirk. “If by brat you mean bitchy, rambunctious and tantalizing, then yes, James. That is exactly what I am.” I locked eyes with Bucky and noticed his heavy breaths, his cheeks slightly flushed. Before I could do anything I would regret, I tore my eyes away from his, recapped my nail polish and strutted out of there, deliberately swaying my juicy ass for him to look at.
---
The date had been a bust. That’s what you called it when you got dumped for saying someone else’s name during sex, right? I honestly didn’t know and as the alcohol pounded through my system, I wasn’t even all that sure I cared. I still couldn’t believe it had happened again, though. I needed to get a fucking grip. Stumbling out of the elevator, I giggled a little to myself. Maybe heading straight from Oliver’s apartment to the bar wasn’t the greatest idea.
But really what was a girl to do when she was left high and dry? And even after I made my feet all pretty for him! I scoffed indignantly, because really, how dare he? Suddenly, I realized that I was in the kitchen. I slumped heavily against the counter and let out a deep sigh. God, I was tired. And as I realized, when my eyes landed on the faucet, thirsty. My fingers could just reach the faucet, so I turned it on, tugging it toward the cold water. Shuffling toward the sink, I ended up bent over the edge of it, hips pressing into the cabinets as I slumped against the counter, too damn tired to hold myself up any longer.
The second the cold water touched my lips a loud moan escaped me. Had water always tasted this good? I honestly couldn’t remember, but as I lapped greedily from the running faucet I could’ve sworn that I was in the Swiss Alps drinking straight from a river. It was the only explanation as to why this water was so damn refreshing.
My feet were aching, so I kicked off my heels and moaned again. All without lifting my head and stopping my slurping. Just a little more of this heaven sent water and I’d go to sleep. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat behind me and I jumped. It felt as though I spun around at the speed of light, but as I would come to realize in the morning, I had never moved quite so slow before.
Bucky was standing behind me with an amused smirk curled around his lips and a goofy smile grew on my face as I saw him. Any other night, I would have flirted with him shamelessly, but tonight I was just too damn tired. “Good evening, James.” For some reason, I spoke with an overly posh British accent and Bucky tried his hardest not to laugh at me. “Enjoying yourself?” His eyes twinkled with amusement, as I stumbled a little while straightening up. “Very much so, James. Had to find some way to turn this night around, just never thought that water would be the thing to do it.”
Bucky’s smile diminished and his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He asked guardedly. I sighed deeply before answering him, this time with my own accent. “I got dumped, James, so it’s kind of a shit night.” Again, I stumbled as I bend down to get my heels. Bucky quickly swooped in and grabbed them for me. “I’m sorry about that. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Bucky’s voice was soft and gentle in a way that I’d never heard it before and it made a whole mess of emotions flutter in my chest.
Before I could get swept up in them, I pushed them back down and forced a laugh. “You’re telling me! I even made my feet all pretty for him and the bastard still has the nerve to dump me?” Bucky’s face flushed a bright red, as he realized just what I meant. Before he could respond, I snatched my heels from his hands and strutted out of the kitchen. “Good night, James.” I called out after me and I could’ve sworn that I heard him mutter “Good night, Y/N.”
Tumblr media
25 notes · View notes
927roses-and-stuff · 3 years
Text
Miracles in Gotham: Chapter Six: The Calm Before
Thank you to @ozmav for the Maribat AU and @mystery-5-5 for helping me out loads with the story! 
I was supposed to update every day starting December 11, but I was busy with the holidays so I couldn’t and then I had a really shit sleep schedule. Basically, I’m super sorry and this is me attempting to make it up to you guys. 
Also, some people keep bringing up that Marinette could just use Kaalki to go from Gotham to Paris, so I’m going to take this chapter as a chance to explain why that isn’t.
Also, this chapter will be super long because I’m trying to get the gang in Gotham by Chapter 10 at the latest. 
If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.
Tag list: : @northernbluetongue @zerotosiki @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn
First Previous Next Fanfic
Dear Diary, 
Sass’ story was...informative in some ways. In some ways, I see myself in Alfred Pennyworth. I can’t imagine not having the Ladybug Miraculous or Tikki in my life but unlike Alfred there are days where I want to quit and leave it all for someone else, someone older, wiser, better, to fix.
But, there’s just me. Just Marinette. 
I’m thinking of  going to Gotham to see if Alfred Pennyworth has acquired anything worthwhile after his time with the Snake Miraculous. At least Papa and Maman will be happy I’m going.
I’ll have to speak with Chat first. After all, this decision affects him too, and he’ll need to know why I’m not arriving on patrols or akuma attacks. It’s times like these where I wish I could just pop open the box and call on Kaalki, but it’s not possible for now. Either I get the tablet from Hawkmoth or I learn how to read the Journal myself to open the stupid box. Hawkmoth really is the root of my problems, huh? 
I should get going now. It’s about time for my patrol. 
Wish me luck! 
Bisoux, 
Marinette
Later that night, Ladybug found herself again on top of the Eiffel Tower, this time without the threat of falling over the edge. She watched the darkening skyline for the sight of her partner, half hoping he’d show up sooner, half hoping he wouldn’t show up at all. She had called him earlier for an impromptu meeting, and he had mentioned that he also had something to tell her. 
Whatever it was, she had a feeling that she wouldn't exactly be happy with it.
In her lap sat the rather large spotted egg that was supposed to be the Miraculous Box. In the cloth shoulder bag beside her contained the rest of the active Miraculous. The other kwami were currently flying around enjoying the fresh Parisian air. She wasn’t too sure why she had brought them in the first place. It had been a hassle to travel with them (since the egg didn’t fit in her yoyo and the bag took a while to adjust to), but maybe it was time to take Chat’s words into consideration and start trusting him with the Guardian side of the Miraculous a bit more. 
Especially with what she was planning to do. 
“Do you think you and Chat will be able to open it, Master?” Sass asked, floating in front of her face. 
“I’m not sure. Maybe we could with Cataclysm, but that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” 
“Rightly so!” Longg huffed. “We do not know the consequences for the other kwamis if you plan to turn the Box into ashes. Think of all the other kwamis that are trapped in there! It would be reckless to do so even if Tikki’s power could reverse the effects of Plagg’s.” 
Pollen sighed and floated on top of the box, lying down and patting it with her small arms. “My poor comrades. I know how hard it is to be stuck on the other side, but have patience, my friends.”
Ladybug frowned. “Is it really so bad?” 
Wayzz joined Pollen on the box. “We’re isolated from the world in that space, without a notion of time passing as humans would. It gets lonely, even if we all have each other,” he explained. 
“That’s horrible,” Ladybug whispered. She watched as Sass, Longg, and Trixx joined the other two on the Box. She never really thought about how stressful this must’ve been for the kwamis whose only companions were each other. They were cut off without means of communicating from one side of the other. Her chest tightened at the sight of them and she found herself retreating to the now all too familiar spiral of  deprecating notions.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep howl ringing through the night sky. She looked up to find Chat Noir catapulting himself into the sky with his baton, doing a few flips before coming back down and doing it all over again, each time more ridiculous and flamboyant than the last. By the time he reached the Eiffel Tower, he was panting, although he grinned widely at Ladybug’s applause. 
“Even better than last time, Chat,” she remarked, adjusting the bag to allow Chat a place to sit. “Have you been practicing lately?” 
Chat retracted his baton and sat down with a graceful flourish. “Why of course, my Lady. All the better to please you.” 
Ladybug rolled her eyes fondly and elbowed him. “Chat.”
“And by please you, I mean as friends of course!” Chat exclaimed, holding his hand up. “Chaton’s honour.” 
Ladybug giggled. “Well, if that’s the case, consider me pleased.” She sighed and shifted to face him. “Time for business.” 
“And what’s this you got here, bug?” He asked, craning his head to observe the spotted egg and the kwami all over. “Did my Ladybird lay an egg while I was gone?” 
Ladybug huffed. “This egg is the Miracle Box I told you about.” 
Chat lifted his head to meet her eyes. “No. Really?” 
“Yes, really. Why?” 
Chat reached out to pet the kwami with his fingers. “Well, it’s definitely marketable, if you’re into that sort of thing.” 
Ladybug scoffed. “If it was so marketable, it’d open without any trouble.” She sighed. “This isn’t really why I called you here but do you have any ideas what we could do to open it?” 
Chat contemplated the Box, his finger and thumb playing with his chin like he had an invisible goatee. “I could try to use Cataclysm and you can use Miraculous Ladybug to bring it back?” 
“The kwami were just talking about that. We can’t risk hurting the kwami.” Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows. “Wait, maybe Lucky Charm…?” 
“You think it’ll work?”
“Either way it’ll be lucky,” she said before handing the box and bag to Chat and standing up.
“Lucky Charm!”
A red and black spotted bone popped out of thin air and into Ladybug’s hands. At first glance it seemed like an actual bone, but it was soft and plush to the touch. 
Ladybug wrinkled her nose. “A chew toy?” 
Chat struggled to refrain from laughing. “Got a little doggie you’re hiding from me, my Lady?” He mimed fainting, his hand clutching at his heart dramatically. “Oh, the betrayal, Ladybug! How could you replace me with a dog?” 
Chat’s dramatics continued while Ladybug analyzed the chew toy. It was slightly larger than her palm, and always reverted back to its original state despite Ladybug squishing, twisting, and almost ripping it apart. After a while, she called for the kwami and Chat, ignoring the latter’s spiel. 
“Barkk’s the dog miraculous...would she be able to sense the chew toy and phase out of there?” Ladybug looked up to see that the kwami and Chat were looking at her stunned.. “Oh, what?” I’m  trying,” she huffed. 
Trixx laughed and floated over to the lucky charm to inspect it themselves. “Remember to look underneath the underneath, O dear Guardian. The one thing Tikki and I have in common is that with us, everything is not what it seems. Maybe you’ll require a dog in the future, or maybe dogs will be irrelevant in the scenario.” 
Ladybug huffed. “Thanks for the insight, Trixx. Helpful as always.” Trixx merely giggled and gave her a wink. Trixx was often a delight to have around, mostly because they helped Marinette with her plans and schemes, but they were also often vague to the point of nonsense. 
“Let’s see if being Mister Bug has taught me anything about Lucky Charms, my Lady,” Chat said, trading the chew toy for the Miracle Box. He held it up and played with it. “Supple, really soft but really sturdy. Maybe it could be a door stopper? Or we could tie it onto the Miracle Box and drop it from the Eiffel Tower and the force, upon hitting the chew toy will not only cushion the fall, but pop the box open.” 
“Uh, physics might not be my greatest subject, chaton, but I don’t think that’s how it works. Like, at all,” Ladybug said, following behind Chat as he trailed along the beam. 
“Right you are, but a lot of your normal plans usually defy the laws of physics so who knows?” Chat turned around to grin at her. 
Ladybug pursed her lips. “I mean, I guess we could try, but not from the Eiffel Tower.” Ladybug adjusted the box in her hands and shoved to bag over Chat’s shoulders. “Meet me at the Louvre and don’t drop the bag. The kwami’s miraculous are in there.”
“Aye, aye, my Lady.” 
With that, both heroes headed to the Louvre to test Chat’s theory. Needless to say, it didn’t work. It had ended with the Miracle Box falling on top of M. Kubdel’s head as he was heading out of the museum (thankfully,  it had fallen where the chew toy had been). This incident led to M. Kubdel yelling at Ladybug and Chat Noir who couldn’t convince him that they were in fact, the actual heroes doing Official Superhero Business. That then turned into a chase of cat and mouse between Ladybug and Chat, and M. Kubdel because he had been convinced that the Miracle Box would make a great exhibit in the museum and would’ve gotten away with it if Chat hadn’t used his baton to shove the Miracle Box out of his arms, and Ladybug using the yoyo string to trip M. Kubdel. Ladybug had to swoop in quickly and save him from falling on his face while Chat chased after the Box to prevent potential damage. By the end of it all, an irate Ladybug and a sheepish Chat Noir scurried back  to the Eiffel Tower before any curious civilians could follow them and see their antics. Or before M. Kubdel could gather up the guts to run off with the Miracle Box again. The kwamis flew behind the two heroes, their tiny laughter echoing behind them. 
Ladybug let out a heavy sigh. “Well, that was a bust.”
“It was...interesting,” Chat said, although he winced  at Ladybug’s tired eyes  bore through him. “Okay, well it could’ve been worse.” 
“M. Kubdel basically chased us off of the museum grounds, Chat,”she deadpanned. “And then he tried to steal the Box.” 
Chat winced again. “Okay, yeah it definitely could’ve gone so much better.” Chat chanced smiling at Ladybug. “You’ve got to admit, it was a little bit fun. “
Ladybug breathed in, before breaking out into a small smile. “Okay, it was a little bit fun.” A moment of silence passed before the two teens fell into rambunctious laughter, leaning into each other to keep their balance. It took a few moments for them to calm down and regain their bearings. 
“We’re so gonna have to apologize to M. Kubdel when we next see him,” Ladybug managed to say in between chuckles. 
Chat scoffed playfully. “Of course, my Lady. We are outstanding, proper citizens, after all,” he said in a voice that was more posh than his regular voice. 
“Okay, okay. Back to business, chaton,” Ladybug said, squaring her shoulders and tightening her grip on the Miracle Box. Chat adjusted the shoulder bag on his shoulder and turned to face her. 
“What’s up, bug?” 
She breathed in deeply. Before she could say anything about what she wanted to tell Chat, she remembered that he also had something he wanted to tell her. “You first, chaton. What’s up?” 
It was almost comical the way Chat straightened his posture with wide eyes and avoided Ladybug’s gaze. Ladybug pitched the bridge of her nose. What the hell did her partner do now? 
“Chat…,”
Chat held out the chew toy  in front of him to provide some cover and space between himself and the spotted heroine. “So, do you remember that thing we talked about the other night? With the Justice League?”
Ladybug slowly nodded, already starting to connect the dots. 
“So, I may have-”
“So, you may have?”
“Yes, I may have, let me finish, Ladybug!” Chat exclaimed before shifting his stance. “Anyways, I may have emailed them that same night…,” he trailed off. 
Ladybug froze. “You mean that same night I told you why it was a bad idea to do so? And you agreed to drop it?”
Chat interrupted her before she could continue. “Hold on, I didn’t necessarily agree to drop it. Look, just listen to what I have to say first, oui?” 
Ladybug sighed. “Fine.” 
“RIght. Anyways, I did contact them, but not to help us here, but for advice. Since you know, we haven’t really made any progress with finding out who Hawkmoth actually is. Maybe they have some insight.” 
Ladybug huffed. There was a part of her that wanted to scream at Chat Noir, remind him about the risks and why they hadn’t done so before, and how they didn’t help before, but she simply relaxed her shoulders. “Sit down, chaton. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” 
Chat’s eyes shifted from the empty spot beside her to her. “You sure?” 
She nodded. “I’m not going to liee, I’m really pissed that you went behind my back like that, but it’s done. Besides, you’re definitely right that we need help and you’re not the only one who went around looking for help.” She looked around and called out, “Sass!” 
“I’m sorry by the way. If it helps, I only got the automatic reply so far,” Chat said, patting Ladybug’s shoulder. 
“Thanks, chaton.” When Sass flew to both of them, she continued. “I asked Marianne if she knew anything about the Miraculous, and she mentioned a guy named Alfred Pennyworth who was the Snake Miraculous user before Viperion.” 
“Hey, Sass,” Chat greeted, giving the kwami a tiny high five. “Then what’s so important about this Alfred Pennyworth?” 
“He was close with Master Fu during World War Two and held onto the Snake Miraculous the longest. Sass mentioned that Alfred had plans on researching the Miraculous after his time in service. I’m planning on seeking him out for information, but, here’s the part you’re not going to like.” 
Chat tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
Ladybug gulped. “I’m planning to seek him out, but he lives abroad somewhere in the Americas.” 
Ladybug let the information sink in as Chat’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Marinette had contemplated telling Chat where exactly in America she would be, but decided not to risk him making the connection between her trip and the akuma class’ excursion to Gotham. 
“But the akumas-” Before Chat could continue, Ladybug interrupted him. 
“I will be going abroad, but Ladybug isn’t.” She played with her fingers before continuing. “I will be taking the Miracle Box and Sass with me, but I’m leaving Tikki behind with one of the other users.” 
“Isn’t that a risk to their identity, though?” Chat asked, scratching his head. “I mean, it looks like you’ve thought it all out but don’t you think you need more time before-” 
“I have a week before I go,” Ladybug interjected. “I talked to Tikki and she can make it so the new Ladybug owner looks completely unrecognizable from their previous hero identity. I’ll have to train them in the next week to the best of my ability.”
“Why can’t you just take the Horse Miraculous with you?” Chat asked. 
Ladybug simply held up the locked Miracle Box and shaked it a bit. Chat’s lips formed an ‘O’ in understanding. Ladybug nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I know. It sucks major ass.”  
Chat gulped. “I,” he sighed. “Is there any way that any of the other heros can fill in my spot too?”
Ladybug blinked in surprise. “You’re going out of the city too?” 
“Yeah. My class has a class trip in Gotham and my attendance is mandatory,” he explained. Ladybug tried to forget the unnecessary parts of what he said. Despite the fact that Ladybug often scolded him for it, Chat Noir was still more lax about revealing personal details.  It took her a second to fully process what he said. 
“Gotham?” She squeaked. “Your class is taking a trip to Gotham? As in the Gotham trip that Mme. Bustier’s class is taking?” Ladybug’s eyes were the size of saucers and she had shifted so closely to him, they were practically nose-to-nose. Chat seemed to realize his mistake because his eyes widened and his breath hitched as he backed away from Ladybug, his tail swinging wildly behind him. 
“I, I mean Georgia! Like the state, Georgia!” 
Ladybug backed down, her eyebrows furrowed. She knew he was lying, but it was probably better to dismiss it. There was no way Chat Noir had been in her class this entire time. And even if he was, Chat’s identity was so not her priority right now. She cleared her throat. 
“Right! Heard they had great beaches this time of year,” Ladybug blurted out, not really sure of what she was saying, but it seemed to calm Chat down, so she didn’t really care. 
“Yep. Great academic stuff too like...aquariums…,” Chat trailed off, pursing his lips and looking like he swallowed a lemon. 
“Right! Well, we can probably get the others a user to cover for you, if you already have someone in mind,” Ladybug said very quickly, still trying to get her mind off of the fact that Chat was going to be in Gotham the same time she was what the fuc-
“Uh, yeah.” Chat looked away bashfully, his cheeks reddening. “I was thinking of asking Kagami Tsurugi. She was Ryuko before so she’ll be used to the Miraculous.” 
Ladybug nodded. “Sass, can you call the other kwami over here, please?” 
“Yesss, my Guardian.” With that, Sass flew off and returned with the other kwamis. 
“Change of plans, guys,” she said, addressing them each with a subtle nod. “Chat’s going abroad as well so we need to use one of your Miraculous as well. Is there any kwami willing?” 
Wayzz floated forward. “Who will be the recipient?” 
“Kagami Tsurugi,” Chat said. Without saying a word, Longg shook her head and bowed out. She felt a bit sad that Ryuko couldn’t become active on the field without risking her identity. In her stead, Pollen floated forward determinedly. 
“My Guardian, I believe my Venom will be most useful for this mission,” she chirped. Ladybug turned toward Chat. 
He nodded. “I think that’d be ideal. Kagami’s very...straightforward.”
She nudged him. “You know her well, then huh, chaton?” she teased, raising her eyebrow at him. 
His cheeks darkened and shoved her back playfully. “As if you don’t have your own boy toy running around, my Lady.” 
Ladybug snorted. “I don’t have a boy toy, chaton. I’m too busy for all of that anyways,” she huffed. 
“Not even for the guy you have feelings for?” he winked. 
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I think I’m ready to get over him, honestly. Not jealous, are you, chaton?” 
Chat smiled lazily. “I think I got the message by now, my Lady. I’m not going to wait for you if you don’t want me there.”
“Thank you,” she smiled. She knew Chat had feelings for her, but since she could never really reciprocate, she was happy he was moving on. “Anyways, you’ll be giving Kagami the Bee Miraculous tomorrow and we’ll help her get used to her new powers over the next week.” 
Chat nodded. “By the way, Ladybug. Who did you choose to be the new bug?” 
She smiled softly. “Luka Couffaine.” 
His eyes widened. “Are you sure?” 
She nodded. “He’s been through numerous resets and has helped me out in the ones I could remember, so he would be the most familiar with my tactics and how the Lucky Charms work.” 
“Makes sense,” Chat mused. He turned toward her with a face-splitting grin and held his fist out. 
“Pound it?” 
Ladybug smiled and copied his motions. 
“Pound it.”
38 notes · View notes
cozycornerwritings · 3 years
Note
hi!! for the match up thing i’m indian-american, 5’6”-5’8” naturally rapunzel-length, wavy hair (brownish), glasses, brown eyes, corner dimples, aquarius, i’m an ambivert, i love video games, editing, reading, writing, sleeping lol, and i’m not good at drawing but i like doodles and coloring. i love k-pop (casual listener) and some non-kpop songs & i love watching a lot of anime & reading BL 🕴🏻 & manga. i get closed off in groups because i get anxious and i get negative thoughts and how i’m probably not even wanted there bc of bad experiences. in public i can get suuuper anxious because i’m rlly sheltered bc of my parents and i get all shaky. same like in public w/o my parents like i get shaky and an anxiety / panic attack and want to cry. ive never experienced things bc of my family like ‘normal’ stuff like the beach, traveling, ice skating, movie theaters and stuff. i hate it and i dont have the best relationship with my family they can be really toxic sometimes and the whole anxiety thing and that makes me feel really depressive and su*cidal sometimes for a while. i love physical affection and being shown that or told words affirmation. but irl i get awkward and shy w physical affection bc ive never experienced it and idk how to do it. im good thru text, irl i can keep a convo going. thru calls i get shy and nervous, especially if it’s the opposite gender. my face gets red easily like i blush a lot and it’s not hard to make me flustered lol. when i get like that or don’t know how to respond i just giggle bc idk what to do or say. if im sad and going thru it i make jokes to cover it up and laugh it off, one time someone just asked ‘are you ok’ after i did and my voice cracked ‘no not really’ and i started crying 😃 i keep stuff to myself (unless i trust that person to tell them stuff nd open up to them) i do have trust issues and i’ve never rlly had friends irl my parents are strict and never let me go out. online i dont rly have much friends either. im rlly observant, and like descriptive / detailed as u can tell 😭 kinda sucks thoo because a lot of people don’t read what i say bc they said they cant b bothered n it’s too long but i just get rlly engrossed into things & dont half-ass stuff and just wanna explain everything properly 😭 i can be sassy and give attitude, and i can be mean. BUT i never do that to someone unless they did me dirty. i dont like arguing. that side of me can be shown thru arguments but only again like if the other person is doing the same and is being mean and disrespectful to me first. i do have a lot of patience and endure things until it’s become like a problem? i make sure to communicate. i never ignore people, i’m not petty unless i have a good reason if they did something to me. i’m really funny i swear 😭 and i can be emotional / sensitive depending on what it is but i know when someone is joking but i know when things are taken too far and i have boundaries. i take caution when meeting people bc trust issues so i’m not that clingy unless i 100% like can count on them and comfortable with them trust them etc. i like teasing friends but just for fun and won’t take it far and make them upset or anything. if i ever hurt someone which i make sure not to i feel super bad and apologize a lot and make sure to never do it again. i try to keep my cool to refrain keeping myself from getting mad but the times i have gotten mad are reasonable and it has to be something super upsetting for me, i dont get mad w/o reason though and i start to angry-cry and yell but i try not to say anything that ill regret and make sure to think of what im saying. i love memes, idk how to describe my humor tho 😭, i’m diligent and considerate! i try to show i care thru actions and words of affirmation and quality time etc. i make sure to remember important stuff someone tells me abt themselves. i have a really good memory i don’t forget things that easily. i care for others a lot and im trying to take care of myself more now too but it can be hard. i’m not a liar i can be really blunt and honest. SORRY ITS LONG 😭
I match you with..
Lemillion!
I’m a firm believer that understanding opposites can bring out the best in each other. Mirio helps you come out of your shell. He loves to stroke your hair, and sometimes playfully pulls it. He is your partner and your best friend, so doing thinks like Pictionary or playing games today are a common occurrence. Joking and cuddling turns into a must for the two of you and you discover how much you love your head pet. His dependable personality provides a safe place for you, and you get the chance to trust in someone fully.
He appreciates how you are careful to watch how you act when you are upset, but loves how full of emotion you are. Seeing you cry breaks him on the inside and he just wants to scoop you up into hugs. Knowing that you have that big goof there helps you with your social anxiety. If someone is talking too much to you and he sees you getting overwhelmed, he will skillfully direct conversation away from you. Mirio gets very protective of you around your family. He constantly holds your hand and you two have established a safe word in case you want to leave. Mirio is more than happy to scoop you into his arms and run away with you. He is so emotionally intelligent and sensitive with you that you feel so safe and secure. If you could use one word to describe him it would be ‘home’. For the first time in a long time you begin to realize what family is, it’s mirio.
Knowing that you haven’t tried many things, you two make an effort to try new experiences together. He often flirts with you, despite the fact you two are together. He brings out the more sexual side of you. You compliment him and flatter him. He loves how much you appreciate him. You two take care of each other and your time is full of laughs.
Tumblr media
9 notes · View notes
captainchrisfics · 5 years
Text
Sweet as Strawberries
About: First-person pov narrator and her husband, Chris Evans, go berry picking with their daughter and chat about having another. Probably the sweetest, sappiest thing I’ve ever written.
Word Count: 2,343
Requested By: Anon! Thanks for submitting this, I genuinely had the best time writing it. Fluff is so soul-cleansing sometimes. Hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
Chris’s mouth was stained the faintest shade of pink between sneaking bites from juicy strawberries to the transfer of my lipstick every time he pressed his lips to mine. The apples of his cheeks and the top of his nose were rosy too, but that was from the morning chill. He pulled me into his chest and I looked up at him, admiring the way the noon sun glinted around him like a halo. Reveling in the bliss, I snuggled into the soft fabric of his worn flannel. 
He smiled down at me, rubbing his hand along my arm. “I told you it’s still too cold for this,” he said, chuckling as I shivered.
“I know it’s only April,” I responded, rolling my eyes. “But she wanted to pick berries with you all winter.”
Our eyes landed on the little girl running between the rows of bushes, wildly swinging her wicker basket. Occasionally, she’d bend down and pluck a good strawberry once a ripe one caught her eye, but the red ones were few and far between this early in the season.
“You remember when she was born?” I asked, pressing my cheek to Chris’s chest. He was a human radiator, but it still didn’t rid the cold from my bones. Really, I wanted to see if I could feel his heartbeat thudding through his layers of clothing.
Chris’s laughter rumbled like thunder. “Never gonna forget it,” he proclaimed, enveloping me in his strong arms.
“You said there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her,” I reminded him with a tsk. Although I was sure my teasing grin would’ve given me away, I buried my face into the crook of Chris’s neck to hide it. “I feel like strawberry picking before you go film for the next few months isn’t a lot of her to ask.”
“Oh, just wait until the day she figures that out,” he chuckled. “You of all people should know she’s had me wrapped around her little finger the second she grabbed my pinky in that tiny fist.” Then Chris snorted as he started swaying with me, even though there wasn’t any music. “I never would’ve guessed it’d mean driving an hour and a half to the only farm opened this early in the season and freezing our asses off in the middle of a field.”
But then our daughter jumped up from the middle of a green patch. She raised her arm in the air, proudly waving the bright red berry squished between her small, chubby fingers. “Got a really good one!” she called to us, jumping up and down so hard her dress went flying. Despite the cold and our protests, she’d insisted on wearing a nice checkered red dress so she could match her favorite fruit. It looked awfully funny under the down coat and layers of leggings I’d wrestled her into anyway.
As quickly as she’d ran through the rows of berry bushes, unbearably eager to get her hands on whatever she could manage to conjure up in spite of the frost, she sprinted as fast as her five-year-old legs could carry her in our direction. 
“C’mon,” she pleaded once she’d reached us. Her pint-sized hand grabbed mine while the other wrapped around Chris’s fingers, dwarfed by their size. “You guys gotta help look,” she insisted as she tugged us through the field. “‘Cause I’m not gonna find all of ‘em for you to eat all of ‘em. S’not Halloween.”
I gave Chris a pointed look as I tried to stifle my laugh, telling him without saying it that this was his attitude coming through. He was already grinning at me with eyebrows through the roof, trying to convey the same. 
“You,” I mouthed, jutting my chin out to reference our little girl. As often as Chris liked to claim he didn’t know where she got it from, I had an idea. She inherited every last ounce of her father’s sass.
Chris’s lips drew into a tight line as his eyes crinkled shut and his head shook once in a defined ‘no.’ I raised my eyebrows, but before I could challenge his assumption, Chris said, “I didn’t touch a piece of her candy last year.”
I scowled as he blamed this on last Halloween. Our daughter finally talked him into wearing the old Captain America costume he snatched on the last set after her whole lifetime of begging to be brought around the neighborhood by Steve Rogers. He begrudgingly stepped into the old thing, bragging about how it still fit like a glove.
By the time they returned, our household had run dry, before I could even sneak any chocolate for myself. So when she collapsed in her bed, leaving her plastic pumpkin on the counter, I ate all of her Reese’s. Although she never liked peanut butter before, she decided the next morning that was her favorite candy and I’d committed an unforgivable crime. Chris, who was preparing for a role, refrained from pigging out with me and escaped punishment.
“I know, Daddy,” she said innocently, sending her dark pigtails bouncing with every step. She did too, he made sure she knew exactly who to blame.
“See?” Chris said between incredulous laughter. “At least someone in this family has a good head on their shoulders.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s important to learn to share,” I grumbled in artificial annoyance. Chris only laughed, but soon stopped as our daughter drew his attention.
She slowed down as she focused on looking more intently among the green vines and thick layer of leaves for the patch of particularly ripe berries she’d managed to find. Chris and I started swinging her between us almost absentmindedly. She squealed as she protested half-heartedly, screeching about needing to focus.
Chris glanced down at our little girl, watching her giggle and leap into the air as we carried her momentum further. His smile grew impossibly wider and carved a dimple into his cheek and crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. Chris took a deep breath, like he was trying to breathe in the bliss of this moment and replace all of his air as to never forget it. 
He looked at me, with the same smile that said so much more than that, his eyes searching for mine. Wanting to share the moment, to marvel at our little joy together. I grinned back, hoping it conveyed half the amount of pride and even just a fraction of the love that his expression did.
Then her little hands started wriggling more furiously from our grip. She ran between the rows, diving under a bush. She rose with two more bright red berries in her hands and an infectious grin on her face, the same smile that had me falling for her father in the first place.
Chris took only a couple strides to meet her before hoisting our daughter up onto his shoulders. She laughed in that lilting way her dad always seemed to squeeze out of her. It made me remember a time, entire years ago now if that’s even possible, that Chris and I would lay awake, staring at me moving stomach as she pushed and stretched underneath the skin. We would wonder what her laugh would sound like, what she would be like.
Too much like her father for her own good, if you ask me.
She popped the berry into her father’s mouth and scolded him for finishing it in one bite instead of saving some for her. They must’ve seemed giant in her tiny palm. Chris apologized anyway and reminded her what I’d said about sharing. As his hands quickly rubbed up and down her legs in an attempt to generate some warmth, he asked, “Can you see any more from all the way up there, darling?”
She rested an elbow atop Chris’s head to support her own. Our daughter peered over the field, a hand shielding her eyes from the high sun like a sailor spotting land. Her legs started to thrash with excitement, kicking Chris square in the chest. He couldn’t put her down fast enough. With her engine already revving, she took off once again to chase whatever berry she’d spotted.
Chris laughed as he caught the breath she’d knocked out of him. “She’s something else,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me to his side. He looked at me dreamily, in a way I always wanted someone to but wasn’t naive enough to hope for before I met him, as he said, “Just like her mama.”
“Now that’s something I’ll take credit for,” I grinned as I bumped my hip against his. Chris wasn’t listening though, he was too preoccupied watching our daughter dart between the bushes. She’d occasionally turn back to see that we were still there and, upon realizing we were already looking at her, she’d try to show us the trophies sitting comfortably in her basket, only for a few to topple out. 
“I want another,” Chris said, so sure of himself. Without a doubt in the world.
“Yeah?” I asked, trying to hide the hope in my voice. Truth was, I’d been wanting to have another baby for a while now. She was getting so big, after all. I knew our daughter would always be our baby, but I missed having a little one that fit so well in the crook of my arm.
“I mean, as long as you do,” he started to backtrack. Chris shifted uncomfortably, retracting his arm and shoving his hands into his pockets. I tried to catch his eye, but his gaze was on the sky.
“Hey,” I said softly, looping my arm through his, “I want another too.” I leaned my cheek against his shoulder.
Chris’s chest collapsed with a sigh of relief. His head rested on mine, neither of us taking our eyes off our little girl. “Scared me,” Chris chuckled dryly as he pressed a kiss on top of my head.
“We’ve been talking about it for years,” I reminded him of the long, late-night conversations we had. Chris always told me he loved being a part of a big family and wanted the same for his kids, to have the built-in best friends he did. 
I wasn’t entirely convinced at first, but our daughter changed my mind. The second she opened those bright, blue eyes, I remember thinking that I’d like to relive that moment a million times over. And when she really laughed for the first time, properly from the bottom of her stomach, she threw her head back the same way her father did. And, one morning, she saw Chris meditating in the living room. Without a word, she climbed into his lap and folded her legs in the same way and watched him with one eye open, trying to sync her breathing with his. Every time little bits of Chris popped out of her, when she furrowed her eyebrows just he did or said something with the same inflection he would, I realized I wanted to watch our children grow up over and over and over again.
“I feel like the timing’s finally right,” Chris sighed. “She’s so much more independent and I’m not signed to any more projects after this one wraps filming. Just saying, you know, I think it’s a good time to start trying again,” he reasoned, tucking his hand into the back pocket of my jeans.
In the past few years, it had never been. She was too little, demanding too much of us to even consider having another any time soon as far as I was concerned. And then Chris started working again. He was always dashing off to some other state to film or another country for promotional press, gone so long he’d miss our baby growing up and I’d miss his help.
“When you get back, though,” I asserted. “No shot in hell am I gonna be able to make breakfast as early as she wants with that god-awful morning sickness.”
Chris laughed again, resting his chin on top of my head. “So you’ve been thinking this through?” he teased. I pressed my lips together and narrowed my eyes at him, unsatisfied. “Kidding,” Chris retracted. “Of course we’ll wait another couple of months. I wouldn’t want to miss a second of it.”
“You say that now,” I warned, raising my eyebrows. “And then it’s three in the morning and I’m waking you up to send you to get some pickles because I’m craving that juice so badly I can’t sleep.”
“God,” Chris chuckled dryly. “Somehow, I’m still going to miss you.” He enveloped me in a hug. I pressed my forehead to the curve of his neck, trying to drown myself in his scent. Treasure the feeling of being in his arms while I still could feel his warmth. Tomorrow morning, his flight would come far too soon.
“It’s because you love me,” I mumbled against his skin, pressing my lips to his neck. I kissed up his jaw until I had to stand on my tip-toes to peck the tip of his nose. 
Chris’s warm hands found their way to my cheeks, numbed by the cold. He squished my cheeks together before placing a kiss on my puckered lips. “How’d you know?” Chris asked, looking at me with a crooked smile.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Had a feeling,” I shrugged into our hug.
Then another little body squirmed its way in between our legs, tucking herself between our knees. “You guys are not good at berry picking,” she insisted. “I found all of ‘em.”
“You did work really hard,” Chris said, placing a hand on her head. He ruffled her hair as the little girl’s features scrunched up with earnest annoyance. Chris pulled away from our hug to scoop her up into his arms. He peered into her small basket as his eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped with mock shock. “That’s so many. I’m proud of you, kiddo.”
Tags: @patzammit​ , @thegetawaywriter​ , @coffeebooksandfandom​ , @captainsteveevans​ , @intrepidandabitcrazy​ , @super100012​ , @spilledinkindumpster​ , @torntaltos , @amiquette , @peach-acid , @southerngracela , @kelbabyblue , @artisticrogers1972 , @bval-1
If you’d like to be tagged in my future fics, please reply to this post, or if you’re looking for more of my writing you can find that here :)
502 notes · View notes
Text
In A Day or Two--Ch. 12
Tumblr media
Chapter 12
           I hummed quietly as I ran a towel through my hair. The mirror was so foggy that I could just barely see myself grinning amidst the steam. I’d finally gotten used to Japanese time, and I was loving everything about Tokyo.
           My phone buzzed on the sink, Kenny’s face popping up on the screen. I surprised myself by letting out a faint sigh as I picked it up and swept toward the bedroom. Switching it over to speakerphone, I answered. “Ohayōgozaimasu!”
           His chuckle was infectious. “Ohayōgozaimasu, koibito,” he said smoothly. “And you pronounced it perfectly.”
           I couldn’t help but burn with pride at his praise. “I’ve been working very hard. And I’ve had a fantastic teacher.”
           “I’ll teach you more when I get back next week,” he replied forlornly. “Are you going to be okay in the city while I’m gone?”
           My brow furrowed at the thought of being without him. Not because I was afraid… but because I enjoyed his presence more than I cared to admit. “Hai. I can ask for help, I know my address, and the lady at the Shinkowa knows me enough by now to help pick out my groceries.”
           “And you’ve only been here a couple weeks. I’m proud of you, Shaye-chan.” I could hear the emotion in his voice. I wanted to call it something, but I was afraid of those four letters. “I’m only going to be in California over the weekend. I’ll be back Monday afternoon.”
           “I’ll miss you the whole time,” I said, immediately surprised as the words slipped out.
           Kenny sighed. For a moment, I wished he was there. That I could hold him. “Me too.”
***
           “I’m doing fine, Mama,” I said, standing over the stove as I made dinner. Well, tried to. I wasn’t doing as well as the instructions said I should, but it smelled pretty good. “How are you guys doing?”
           My mother sighed, and I could hear the clink and clatter of china. It was early morning in New York. If I knew my mother, she was sitting down to breakfast at the table in our smaller dining room. I heard Cheryl’s voice in the background as she brought my mother her food.
           “Your father is leaving for London again in this evening. The deal was almost done, and then his idiot of a junior partner screwed up. He has to go smooth things over with the investors,” my mother replied, venom hidden just below the surface of her words. “And your brother is going to be the death of me. Why can’t he be like you, my darling girl?”
           I rolled my eyes. This was a common refrain from my parents. I was the good child, the one who did everything as expected, who graduated valedictorian from an elite Upper East Side prep-school and went to NYU. I worked for the family company, interned with my father’s associates. There was nothing about me that was rebellious.
           My baby brother, Damon… he was something different. He’d been kicked out of four elite private schools, two parochial schools, a public school, and was well on his way to spending the rest of his education at a military school or boarding somewhere in Europe. My parents were embarrassed by him more often than they were proud. I hated it for him, but at the same time, I knew that he brought some of it on himself.
           “Maybe he needs a gap year, Mama.”
           The laughter that hit my ears sounded like the screech of the Wicked Witch from Oz. “God no, Shaye. The second your brother ends up somewhere with no structure…” She quieted for a moment, her next words taking on an air of sadness. “I’m afraid I’m going to find him dead one day. Those people he calls friends are only going to get him into trouble.”
           “I’ll call him this weekend. Maybe I can talk a little bit of sense into him.”
           “If only it were that easy, darling.”
***
           Curled on my side, I pulled up the playlist of videos I’d found of some of Kenny’s matches. I’d watched several of them whenever I was alone, surprised each and every time at how amazing and beautiful he was when he was in the ring. He was so fluid, so animated, so graceful. It had been embarrassing when I’d told him that I was watching his matches. But we hadn’t watched one of them together.
           I wondered what it would be like to see one of his matches live.
           I snuggled into the blankets, arms curled around my spare pillow. My heart skipped sideways as I breathed deeply, surprised to smell the lingering traces of Kenny on the fabric. Had he slept in this bed so much? I thought.
           The melancholy swept in like a tidal wave. I could hear his voice on the video. If I closed my eyes, I could almost convince myself that he was there. And I didn’t want to admit to myself how much I wished it were true. Even when my vision was blurred with tears, even when I couldn’t breathe for the weight of the sadness, I couldn’t admit to him—let alone myself—that I was falling in love with Kenny.
           It terrified me more than anything else ever had.
***
           My knee bounced nervously as I watched the LED board change, flight details updating as planes took off and landed. I remembered that first moment when I landed, the panic that shattered the mystique of Japan. Barring any emergency, I didn’t think I would see the inside of the airport until the end of my trip.
           But I wanted to surprise Kenny. I’d missed him so much that it scared me. Even if I wasn’t ready to say those four little letters, I wanted to…
           “What am I doing?” I whispered desperately. “This is crazy. This is stalkerish. This is some Joe Goldberg bullshit.”
           I wrapped my arms around my middle, dropping my head in shame at how stupid this plan was. Before I could think twice, I turned and started back through the concourse to the train station. I wanted to go home and act like none of this ever happened.
           Panic piqued my senses. It felt like I could hear every little sound, see every shape and line and color. I thought I was going to pass out.
           “Shaye?”
           His voice was the only sound in the world. My body turned without my permission. I wanted to curl into myself and hide even as I wanted to run toward him and fling myself into his arms. He looked tired. But he looked beautiful to me.
           Kenny crossed the space between us in a few strides, dragging his suitcase behind him. Every step he took toward me sent my heart racing into overdrive. I stopped worrying about what he thought or how terrified I was of the strength of my feelings for him. All that mattered was that he was there.
           Suddenly, he was within arm’s reach. Tall, broad shouldered, two-toned curls, scruff along his jawline. My fingers itched to reach for him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. For some reason, I needed him to make the first move.
           “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, propping his suitcase up against his leg. His blue-green eyes lit up as he shook his head, making his curls bounce. “It doesn’t matter… I’ve missed you so much.”
           Before I could say anything, Kenny gathered me up in his arms. A slow smile spread over his face. Roughened fingertips brushed hair behind my ear as his gaze skipped over my face. I shivered beneath the intensity of his inspection.
           “Kenny…”
           He didn’t respond in words. Instead he slithered his fingers into my hair and pulled me close. He settled his mouth against mine gently, the kiss as chaste as it was breathtaking. Every cell in my body vibrated with the tenderness of it.
           “Anata wa watashinoiedesu,” he murmured against my mouth. He buried his nose against my hair, nuzzled against my neck. I let him hold me as tightly as he dared. One hand delved into his hair, cradling his head against me. The other fisted into his shirt, tugging him closer. “Home.”
           When he finally released his hold and looked down at me, his cheeks were bright red. He looked young and boyish, even with the tiredness that clouded his eyes. He smiled again, pressing his forehead against mine. I breathed in the scent of him, glad to just have him back again. Even if the strength of my missing him scared me.
           “This was a nice surprise,” he said as we disentangled from one another. He reached down, took my hand, and led me toward the train station. “I’ve missed you.”
           I fidgeted with the ends of my hair, trying to hide the heat that rushed beneath my skin at the idea that he’d been thinking of me while he was away. Even just for a few days. It made me giddy to know that I meant enough to him to miss.
           “I’ll pay for the cab this time,” I said playfully. I couldn’t help but grin as he gently, perhaps subconsciously, drew me closer to his side. “You look like you could use some sleep.”
           The sweetness slipped out of his smile, turned into something wolfish. “I could use way more than sleep.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making me giggle.
38 notes · View notes
rainbows-fanfics · 4 years
Text
Our Nightmare (Chapter 3)
Summary:
Sally moves in with the man of her screams. But there is still so much she has to learn of Halloween Town, and what it’s like living with The Pumpkin King.
A sequel to Two Dearest Friends, where the Christmas incident never happens. But there are still many ends that haven’t been met, and much for these two dreamers to learn as they start to spend their deaths together.
Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally, Dr Finklestein/Jewel
Note: This is a SEQUEL to my other story, TWO DEAREST FRIENDS. To read the original story, go here.
--
The Pumpkin King is surprised to find that he sleeps in the next morning, waking only when the sun manages to peek through his closed curtains. He surfaces from his sheets and stretches, hearing several of his bones popping as he rolls his skull to the side. A blissful sigh emerges from his lips as his frame relaxes. He wonders why he feels so good until it hits him. That's right. Sally gave him that massage last night, didn't she? That must be why he slept for so long; he's never felt so much tension leave his body before...
Jack climbs out of his bed to change into clothes, leaving himself in his undershirt as he heads downstairs. He's in the middle of buttoning it when he brings his skull up to find a figure already sitting on the couch. She's brushing her hair and staring out of a nearby window. The smile grows on his face as he hurries along with his shirt, rushing over to meet with the woman. She glances up when he's a foot away, her eyes drifting down. He notices the dampness of her hair, as well as the few droplets of water trickling along her cloth skin. He leans down and lays a kiss on her scalp, placing a bony hand on her shoulder.
"Good morning, Sally. You're looking refreshed!"
She smiles as he pulls away. "I used the shower in your bathroom. I've been waiting to dry in the meantime."
He takes a seat beside her. When he turns his skull, he finds the window beside her open, allowing the sun to seep in and soak into her skin. He admires the way the sunlight reflects off her skin, as well as the few glints of the droplets still left on her frame.
"I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about that," He brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. Still a little moist. "-I was wondering if you'd find any use out of that restroom..."
"I can wash, but not that often. It takes forever for me to dry." She wrings her yarn hair to get the rest of the water out. "How did you sleep?"
"Very good, actually. I don't think I've slept that soundly before." He pauses before giving her a smirk. "-And how did you rest, my dear? If I recall, you slept for a good hour on my chest."
He can see the red tint on her cheeks. "I slept as good as my first night here. But it was more comfortable, how I feel asleep..."
His bones tingle in delight. He comes forward and leaves a kiss on her scalp, musing to himself how lucky of a man he is to be with this woman. He stands from the couch and makes his way into the kitchen, where he plans to prepare them a quick breakfast for the morning. 'I really should set us down together sometime and have a nice dinner...' He thinks to himself. He grabs the ingredients from the cupboard and listens to the humming from the other room. His frame naturally relaxes at the sound of her voice - reliving the moment where she sang to him, hoping, deep down, that another day like that will come...
Eventually, he finishes a couple servings of eggs and brings them to his beloved in the den. She thanks him as she begins eating. She compliments his cooking once more, and he thanks her warmly. Everything about the situation feels great for both of them - being comfortable enough to eat like this together already. Sally hopes things will only get better from here; that they can share peaceful meals all the time and she won't feel fatigued from slaving over the stove like before.
"Do you have any plans for today? I'm curious on hearing them if you do." Jack brings up as they finish their breakfast. She sets down her fork and thinks for a moment.
"Well, I wanted to go into town today, and start buying some supplies to sew with...with all that space, I want to start working on some new clothes right away!"
He chuckles at her enthusiasm. "That's great, Sal. You found somewhere to get supplies?"
"Not exactly. I'm hoping to find a place." She notices the frown on his skull and her posture deflates. "What's wrong?"
"-Well...Halloween Town doesn't exactly HAVE a seamstress anymore. We used to, years ago, but...she moved away, and there hasn't been a place like that in town since." He can sense her sadness and places a consoling hand on her back. "But I'm sure you can find a place that offers some fabrics or sewing supplies! I know the Town Hall has some extra supplies laying around..."
"I guess I can give it a try, anyway. It's been awhile since I've been out in town by myself." She rubs her arm before slowly dragging her eyes to his. "-Wh-when can I leave...?"
"What was that?"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to say that." She squeezes her eyes shut. "I'm used to asking the Doctor when I want to go outside...."
The skeleton frowns as he notices the frustration building for her. He leans forward and rests his arms around her, bringing Sally into a close embrace. He feels her relax in his grip and inhales, presumably the cologne still lingering on him from the other night. He runs his fingers on the back of her head, humming in delight at their contact. They both relish this moment of ease, and she doesn't think of what she just said or why she said it. All she knows is that Jack is here, and he's allowing her more freedom than she's ever gotten.
"You've got all this time for yourself now, Sally. You can spend it however you want, wherever you want. I'd just like to know where you are so I don't have to worry if you're not here." He presses his lips on her forehead. "And just to let you know, I'll be in the Town Hall if you need me at all today."
She winces. "-And interrupt your work?"
"You are much more important to me than that." He pulls back to look her in the eye, touching the tip of her nose slightly. "I'd drop everything for you in an instant."
She grins and closes her eyes as he taps her nose again. "Thank you..."
----
The ragdoll bids goodbye to her Pumpkin King as he leaves for the morning. She refrains departing from the mansion right away, deciding to make a small list of what she will need for everything she wants to make. Fabrics are definitely her priority right now, but more sewing needles wouldn't hurt, and she lost a thimble a little while ago...Her lips drop into a frown as she writes this all down. How can she even FIND these things if there is no seamstress in town? Or anyone else with this hobby, for that matter? The only one she knows is the Hanging Tree, but he must be busy with other things...
By the time she is ready to go out, she has her basket in hand with her list in the other. She hopes to at least carry something in it by the end of the day. She takes her time walking down the Manor's staircase outside, and opens the gates to Halloween Town. There are people out today=. The ragdoll wears a smile as she passes by fellow citizens. Most of them return her greetings, the Corpse Family happily waving to her and some of Jack's previous friends acknowledging her as they pass by. It leaves her feeling confident as she approaches the shops and stands she's seen before. Her eyes lead their way to Witches' Goods, the only shop she recognizes.
The ragdoll wastes no time entering through the open doors, hesitating as she peers around inside. Nothing much has changed since her last appearance here - which, come to think of it, has at least been a couple of years ago! Deciding she is far overdue visiting here, she begins to walk around the shop in search for anything she can use. After minutes of searching, Sally unfortunately falls short as she can only find potions, magical items, and a few miscellaneous things she can't identify. She turns her head and notices the Witches sitting behind the counter up front, in the middle of a conversation, giggling to themselves quietly.
Sally sighs in relief as she approaches them, clutching the basket in one hand and waving with the other. "Hello...I was wondering if I can have some help?"
Helgamine and Zeldaborne glance towards her. Their eyes dart to each other as the smiles fall off their lips. The ragdoll tightens her grip as she lets her arm fall, and watch as they turn to her with sudden smug smiles. She recalls them being very talkative from their previous encounter. Seeing them fall silent upon greeting them gives her this uneasy feeling...
"Why, sister, look! It's Sally! The source of all the talk in town today!"  Helgamine drags her gaze to the shorter witch, who chuckles in reply.
"It sure is! I can't say I'm surprised she hasn't changed from those rags she wears all the time." Sally quickly glances down at her patchwork attire. "-What do you want, Doll?"
"Um...I'd prefer it if you called me Sally." She nervously corrects, hesitant to come any closer towards them. "I was just wondering if you had any cloth to spare? Or any sewing supplies at all?"
The sarcasm is apparent in the reply. "Now, why would we have any of that?"
"Well, I'm not sure. If not, I would like to know who does. Can you tell me?"
The Witches look at each other again, and already can the taller woman sense this will not end kindly. They remove themselves from their seats as they approach her with their hands behind their back, eying her frame from head to toe. She bows her head down and turns red when she hears them laugh. What could be so funny?
"You might want to think of fixing your stitches first! All of them just look so ugly...and not in the terrible way! Why, any second it looks like you'll just fall apart!"
A long hand shoves her to the side. Sally regains her balance quickly and steps back in surprise. That's when she finds Zeldaborne down at her feet, touching the ends of her dress and scoffing. "-I don't know why Jack fell for you! You dress like you live on the streets! He should be with someone much more proper."
All of these words sting deeply. She can feel her chest growing cold and her throat too hot to form any words. She feels defeated when Helgamine narrows her eyes at her, leaning forward a little too closely for her comfort.
"And why did he pick you, anyway? We've known him longer than YOU have! You've been assembled for...what? A few years now? Why would he be with a woman who looks more like a human instead of a monster?"
One word manages to leave her dry throat. "What...?"
Zeldaborne snickers. "Yeah! You don't look scary at all! I bet you wouldn't hurt a rat!"
"-Why would she, when she's so ugly that the rat would just run away?"
"Haha! Good point! Jack's going to grow so bored of you knowing you can't scare. He's the most terrifying man around, and he doesn't need someone like you slowing him down!"
By this point, she can feel the tears threatening to leave her eyes. She wants to defend herself; assure them she can be scary and that Jack truly does love her despite everything...but she knows her words will fall on deaf ears. The two continue to laugh at her as she stands there, dumbfounded, and quickly decides enough is enough.  She darts out of the building gnawing at her lip, knowing that if she lets herself stay still, she will break down crying. And she can't do that in the middle of town....not when she just left such a good impression at that meeting!
The further Sally goes into the crowds, the more she sees the distasteful look from some of the women. The Undersea Gal scoffs at her as she walks by, causing her to sink her head into her shoulders. Then some of the other ghouls give her sour looks and one even bumps her side as she walks past them. Sally notices the loose seam on her arm from the encounter and stops to tighten the stitch. As she does, she looks up and finds the same group of women smiling in delight at her struggle. A huff leaves her ruby lips as she quickly finishes the job, and she darts away from the crowds.
She doesn't really know where she's going. Anywhere people can't see her, she supposes. But the longer she leaves herself alone with her thoughts, thinking about what those witches said to her and all the distasteful looks she got in town...the more horrible she feels. Her whole body turns cold and she suddenly has an urge to go home. To hide behind those walls and never come back out...so those women can have what they want, and for her to suddenly disappear from everyone's deaths. Her leaves feel fragile as she approaches a building, and she slowly moves her gaze up to see where she has led herself:
The Town Hall.
Sally vaguely wonders what brought her here, and then it dawns on her. Jack is inside. The man of her screams, the one who told her she can come to him if anything happened....he's only a few steps away, and her body knows she wants to see him. He's the only source of comfort to her right now, and she kunderstands if she flees to their home and locks herself away, it would only be the same as when she lived with Finklestein.
Holding her breath, she climbs up the steps and opens the door slowly.
----
The tall skeleton is in the middle of his work before the Mayor comes into the room, carrying a small stack of papers with him. He glances from his desk and watches as the papers are set on the corner of his workspace. The coworker grins as he pats the top of it with his small hand, looking rather proud of the new paperwork he's leaving for The Pumpkin King.
Such a sight would bring some slight discomfort to the skeleton before - but now that he has someone to come home to after all of this is done, and he doesn't feel stressed one bit. In fact, he finds himself looking forward to wait awaits him in that pile. He feels greatly motivated by Halloween again; a spark that has left him for years, suddenly ignited again...and all because he's happy, now. He simply couldn't ask for anything else!
"-And here they are! All of the new Halloween ideas, freshly printed! They need your signing, and then we can move on." The Mayor tells him with pride. Jack pushes aside the stack for now.
"Great. I'll get those done by the end of today."
"Horrible! Thank you, Jack." He begins to leave the room until he suddenly stops. Even with his gaze down, the skeleton can hear his faces switching. This must not be good. "-Oh, by the way...I could have sworn I heard a woman crying somewhere outside! And it didn't sound like the pleasant types of cries...I tried to find out who was out there, but I couldn't find anyone! It's gotten quieter now, but still..."
"A woman crying?" He repeats, taking his attention away from his work. "Goodness, I hope they're alright...I better check to see if there's anyone out there."
"Awful idea, Jack! I'll be in here if you need me. I hope whoever it was just had a terrible fright!"
The taller man nods in his direction as he leaves the room. As he scans the rooms, he tries to listen for the source of any crying. He comes to no luck with anywhere inside, and decides to bring his search outside of the Town Hall. He catches the sounds of sobs as he inches closer to the back door. He opens it and peers around - eventually finding a ragdoll bunched up beside the set of stairs. For a moment, they both grow quiet. Sally looks up, surprised to find the concerned face of Jack looking down at her. He quickly shuts the door to approach her.
"Sally! Are you alright? What happened?" He asks, offering his hand. She observes it for a moment before wiping away her tears, slowly taking it and allowing him to help her to her feet.
"Oh, Jack...it was terrible! I went into town today to find what I needed, and the worst thing ha-happened...."
He notices her distress and decides to go somewhere they can have some privacy. He knows just the place and starts patting her back as he leads them down a trail. She looks confused the farther they go from the Town Hall, but when she turns her head and finds the gates of the graveyard, she relaxes her shoulders. Jack leads them both to the spiral hill, where he carefully sets her down first before sitting himself next to her. There is barely any space between them - he ensures they have contact the entire time of consoling her.
"Now, isn't that better? No one can hear or see us." He brushes her hair aside. She sniffles and nods slowly.
"Thank you...I'm sorry I had to come like this. But I couldn't....help it...."
More tears emerge from her eyes. Jack frowns and gently guides her into his arms, letting her weep on his chest. He's sad to admit that such a thing has happened before - Sally has been through a lot, and her best comfort was letting it all out on his shoulder. He doesn't mind when he feels her tears wet his suit, and brings his arms around her to keep her in an embrace. They remain like this for a few minutes until her tears run dry. She finally leans back to look at him properly, the sorrow still apparent on her features.
At her silence, he prods. "Now, what happened to get you so worked up...?"
"I went to the witches' shop to ask if they had anything I needed. What a mistake that was..." She looks away from him. "Instead of helping me, they started saying all of these awful things about me....li-like I wasn't scary, and that it-it was a mistake for you to be with me..."
"Sally-"
"-I know it's not true, but it hurt to hear those things. And I feel even worse for leaving. I couldn't say anything to them. I just....left."
Jack remains silent for a few moments as he watches her look at the ground. Here he was, thinking the town took their relationship greatly with how they talked to them yesterday...yet, that was far from the truth. The band really was right. All of the jealousy was pushed down, and the witches found an opportune time to take it out on Sally. 'Well, I'm not going to have any of that.' He thinks to himself. 'No one should think they can talk to her like this and get away with it. Not even if it's my own citizens...'
He takes her hand holds it endearingly in his, moving his skull closer to her. "I am so sorry that happened to you...Sal, I promise you I'll talk to them and let them know right away that they can't speak this way to you."
"You know I appreciate that, but it's not just them saying those things. I'm....I'm upset that I couldn't tell them that." She squeezes his hand hard. "I couldn't stand up for myself..."
"Don't be so hard on yourself...it hasn't been that long since we've told them. You shouldn't have to deal with this with everything else going on. I don't want you to be burdened with something I can easily fix while you're adjusting to moving in with me."
He leans forward to kiss her forehead, and she shuts her eyes tightly. He's right. She has so much she already has to deal with...this jealousy from some of his fans shouldn't concern her so much. Not when she knows he'll come in and do the right thing. He's only showing his protection and care for her, and she should be grateful for that. Maybe some other time she'll have to try gaining the same confidence as him....
"Thank you. I'm sorry you have to deal with this, Jack. I didn't think-"
He covers her lips quickly with his finger. "-No, no....you don't have to apologize for a thing. I should have known better than to assume EVERYONE would be fine with this...I'm just going to have to give them a good talk to get my message across so you won't have to worry about this anymore, Sally."
Before she can rebut, he quickly adds, "-Your safety is my responsibility. I don't want you to feel like everyone is upset whenever you're in town. You deserve to live a comfortable life, and I'm going to give that to you."
And just like that, she feels the sadness dissipate. She thanks him by lunging forward and hugging him tightly, so much that she starts to feel her seams loosen. A tear manages to escape from her eye, but she can't help it. She feels so grateful for this skeleton man caring so much for her...He truly understands how much she is going through and is willing to do anything to help her. She suddenly understands that coming to him was truly the best option.
----
He spends time with Sally until she feels comfortable enough to return to their home. He ensures she is alright before they depart. The Pumpkin King immediately makes it his goal to confront the witches before returning to work. It isn't a very merry trip as he comes into town, and while he greets anyone he passes by politely, he understands he won't be as kind as soon as he's through those doors. He even goes to the extent of closing them once he's in Witches' Goods, and starts looking for the sisters right away.
They are in the back of the shop laughing and gossiping. Jack doesn't mind interrupting them as he suddenly rounds the corner and clears his throat to get his attention. They are understandably taken by surprise and jump in alarm. The moment they see his hollow eye sockets, they relax and start smiling, even cooing slightly. The skeleton frowns as they begin to flutter their eyes, already acting completely innocent on the outside.
"Why, Jack! What a horrendous surprise!" Helgamine giggles. "What can we do you for?"
"I think you have a pretty good idea on why I'm here."
Zeldaborne plays dumb, resting a finger on her chin. "That can't be true! We're always honored when you stop by for a surprise!"
He cuts to the chase. They'll try to distract him otherwise. "-Sally was here today, wasn't she?"
"Who....? OH! You mean the ragdoll!" He arches a socket at that wording. "She came in here asking if we had sewing supplies!"
"CLEARLY we didn't have any! We sent her on her way."
"Yes, but according to her, you said some very insulting things before she left. I'm just wondering on what you said to her...?"
Helgamine playfully pushes his arm. "Come on, Jack! It's not that big of a deal! Maybe she got hurt over some things we said, but we didn't really mean them!"
"She came running to me, crying. That's not just 'some things'. I want to know what you said to her that could have hurt her so badly."
Zeldaborne rolls her eyes as she caves in. "All we said to her was that she wasn't scary and she shouldn't be holding you down like she is! Which is true! You're the most terrifying man out there! And she's....well..."
"-And maybe we mentioned a thing or two about her stitches and the way she dresses....very odd, that is!"
He frowns. He can already understand how badly that must've came from their mouths, and how Sally took it...he feels awful for letting this happen. How could his own citizens exhibit such behavior? Most of them were the friendliest out there; their whole motto was NOT to be mean or cruel! The Pumpkin King crosses his arms as he lets out a dragged sigh. Even if he's known these women for longer and highly respected him....he can't let something like this slide. He couldn't die with knowing this is how they treated Sally.
"You know I admire you ghouls-" They fawn over this, which he ignores. "-And you've known me for quite a long time--" "We sure have, Jack!" "-Then you should know that I will not tolerate this behavior, and I'm going to politely ask you both to give Sally your respect when she's around."
They both gasp. Helgamine is especially shocked. "-What? But she's.....not SCARY! How can we sit here and not say anything while you're with someone who couldn't even-"
He holds up a hand. "-I'm stopping you right there. It doesn't matter how Sally looks or whether or not she can scare...you should still respect her because she's a citizen like everyone else. She's been through a lot more than you think she has."
"But-"
"-But nothing. I know you girls can be so much worse. Frankly, I don't understand why you're acting this way to her." They open their mouths to respond, but he already knows the answer. "--Sally makes me a very happy man, and the least I'm asking is for you both to be happy for me. And if not, then I will seriously be thinking of excluding you two from this year's Halloween for showing such nasty behavior."
"No! You can't do such a thing....we promise we'll be better!" They plead.
"Then I better not hear of this happening again. And while you're at it, talk some sense into the others who feel this way, too. I'm sure you've convinced them of such untrue things already."
Feeling his patience running thin, he starts to leave their store. His point got across and he doesn't feel like listening to their excuses anymore. This entire situation frustrates him, and he wishes not to deal with it again. Before he can take a step out of the door, he feels something clawing at his leg and glances down to find Zeldaborne clinging on it. The look in her eyes is desperate as he urges her off.
"Please, Jack, don't be upset with us! We didn't mean to hurt Susa- er, Sally's feelings! We didn't think she'd take such things that way..."
"Yeah!" Helgamine chimes in from behind. "Most people take such things as a compliment! It's like telling the Wolfman's his breath smells like the sewer!"
"Sally understands things a little differently. All I ask is that you be patient with her. That means not saying anything that sounds insulting." He places an exhausted hand on his skull. "I'll give you two the benefit of the doubt, but from now on, don't treat her any differently than you would with me."
"But she's not-"
"Someday, she may be your Queen." They turn silent at this. Even Jack finds himself in a knot as the words leave his tongue. He clears his throat. "Have a horrible evening, ladies. I hope not to talk about this again."
He leaves the store with no interruptions this time, except something feels different about his rib cage. He chooses to ignore the feeling as he begins his way home.
----
He finds Zero waiting for him the moment he opens the door to the Skellington Manor. The dog barks happily at his master as he watches him pass by. Jack hangs up his suit and goes to the couch, feeling much too exhausted at that moment. As he rests his skull on the cushion, he suddenly feels the presence of someone nearby and opens his eye sockets. That's when he finds Sally looking down at him. She leans forward to leave a kiss on his skull.
"Are you hungry?" She asks. He sits up in his seat.
"It's been awhile since I ate. Why do you ask?"
"I want to make us some dinner tonight. As a 'thank you' for talking to the witches." Her look turns concerned as she rounds the couch to sit by him. "How did that go, by the way...?"
"Well, they certainly understand it was wrong of them and I am sure they won't be doing it again." Something about talking about it makes his bones grow cold. "I hope that's the only talk I needed to have with them."
"Did they say they were sorry..?"
Jack suddenly feels very stupid for not making them apologize for such an ordeal. But it shouldn't have been to him, anyway. It should rightfully be face-to-face with the woman they insulted.
"No, but why don't you come on by their store tomorrow and ask? I'm sure they will."
She looks very hesitant with the idea, but nods anyway. "Alright. I'll do that tomorrow...hopefully they'll help me with what I need..."
"I certainly hope they can. They shouldn't be an issue for you anymore. I'm sorry that had to happen."
"It's alright. I suppose I can look forward to trying to make them my friends, then..."
He closes his eyes and smiles. Sometimes he wonders if she has the heart he's missing. Sally suddenly stands from the couch and dismisses herself into the kitchen, where she presumably is going to start on their supper. Jack starts a fire in the hearth while she is busy, and watches the flames dance around in silence. Eventually, the sky turns dark outside and the room is illuminated in oranges and yellows. Zero lays by the hearth and begins to nap, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts.
He can't get his mind off of what he said to those witches. Had those words truly meant to leave his lips? Had he even thought of such a thing prior to that moment? Something just upset him hearing Helgamine and Zeldaborne speak of Sally like she meant nothing...when, really, she meant everything to him. They've known each other for a long time now, and while they've only moved in together lately...it felt like he's loved her his own death.
He brings his gaze to the fire with three words in his mind:
 A Pumpkin Queen....
21 notes · View notes
Note
ok that first kiss scenario with Mista was just incredible, god bless can I request the same but with giorno?
Normally I’d finish older requests first but as soon as I read the name “Giorno” my heart skipped a beat; I love him so much!
And thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it that much!😭💖 I’m kind of trying to practice the way I convey emotions through writing, so I hope this turned out okay ;”)
I suoi particolari 
Giorno x Reader First Kiss Scenario❤
Giorno was always composed; with his back always straight and his golden locks tied in a low braid. His expression was often a serious one, but his lips would occasionally lift upwards at one of their jokes, causing his dimples to show and his turquoise eyes to glimmer.
He would hold their hand sometimes, while helping them sit down or during their walks. Both of their cheeks would tint pink, but they would continue their conversation with no trouble nor awkwardness between them.
And that’s the reason why that day, (Name) could tell that something was off with her friend. He wouldn’t look at them in the eyes nor would he dare to touch their hands, he didn’t look agitated in the slightest, but by his actions they were sure that something was bugging him.
Were they to blame? Did they do something to make his day worse? Thousands of possibilities popped into their head, but they couldn’t recall a moment when they offended him, even by mistake. They considered asking him straight away, but they didn’t want to make assumptions or make him uncomfortable, so they patiently waited and kept following him to the cafe.
“Are we going to that place I told you about?” they asked, noticing how the streets they were taking looked familiar. He simply smiled,
“That’s a surprise, you’ll find out in a minute,”
And they had guessed right: the place was adorable, isolated from other more popular cafes, walls, tables and chairs painted pearl white, the latter with a pastel purple cushion on the top. Various kinds of small plants were hanging from the ceiling, with bigger ones hanging over the walls. They were immediately met by the owner of the place, who escorted them to a table in the back garden.
“It kind of feels like being at a restaurant,” (Name) commented while he rushed to go get the menus. Giorno nodded and put his hands under the table, they did the same.
They decided to eat something light, Giorno ordering a simple cappuccino and a brioche, while (Name) decided to order the usual –their favourite drink and dessert. For the whole time though, even as they conversed, they couldn’t get their mind off of his behaviour.
They had absolutely no idea why he was acting like that, until he changed the argument and asked them a question that made their cheeks turn slightly red.
“Have you ever kissed somebody, (Name)?” he questioned with his head tilted. They blinked twice and gave him their response, “Well, out of the girls who tried to get in a relationship with me, there was nobody I liked enough to date, let alone kiss,”
They nodded and moved closer to him, encouraging him to go on.
“Are you trying to tell me something, Gio?” they joked, one of their eyebrows raised and their lips partially curled upwards in a mischievous smirk. His stomach knotted up at the realization that maybe he was being too obvious; he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
He didn’t want to say yes, because then it wouldn’t have been as romantic as he hoped it to be. (Name) would’ve just laughed at his poor attempt at a nice confession, and maybe they wouldn’t have left him completely –they weren’t that type of person-, but they would’ve giggled at his inability to confess to somebody, at night, as their last thought before drifting off to sleep.
But he didn’t want to say no either! They would’ve cringed at his honesty and at themselves for jumping to conclusions too early, plus he was trying to tell them something after all.  He suddenly realized he was averting his gaze, and when he looked back at their friend, they had a concerned expression on their face.
“I’m sorry for interrupting you, Giorno. I was just kidding, you can go on you know,” ah, great. Now they were assuming that the reason why he stopped talking was them. He shook his head and swiftly extended his trembling right hand so that he could grab (Name)’s.
“No, no. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure how, it’s not your fault,” he reassured them, and they smiled at his sincerity. He was always so polite with them.
“Then take your time, I don’t want to rush you.” They exchanged a smile, (Name)’s hands caressing his. This seemed to give him courage as he straightened his back and took a deep breath, finally ready to talk. They smiled at him, and he returned it.
“There’ s only one person I met who I want to get closer to, to the point that even during missions I catch myself thinking about them, and wondering if they might like me back. And that person... if it wasn’t obvious already, is-“ he stammered, shifting position, “...you. I’m not trying to be pushy, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same.”
He finished, butterflies in his stomach. (Name)’s grip on his hand loosened and their smile only widened, they could feel their whole face and the tips of their ears as hot as an oven. Giorno took this as a positive reaction and his breath became stable once again, watching as his crush timidly brushed their hair behind their ear.
“Giorno, how could I not feel the same? You are the sweetest guy I know, I can’t believe you like me of all people,” they rambled, their gaze dropping on the floor, then on the table, and finally on their intertwined fingers. His fingers were much longer and much more delicate than theirs, they thought, his nails rounded and his palms sweaty.
“Hey, don’t say that, Tesoro. I’m pretty sure I’m not the first one with a crush on you,”
“Tesoro... nicknames already?”
They shared a laugh, much more relaxed than before. Slowly, (Name)’s hands separated from Giorno’s and made their way up his arms, only stopping once they were resting on his shoulders. He put his on their waist, his touch graceful. Their eyes met and, for the first time that morning, they stayed together.
“You said... you’ve never kissed anyone before,” (Name) began, not really sure how to continue; maybe it sounded better in their head, or maybe it was just extremely cliché; “Let me fix that, then?”
Giorno simply nodded, praying not to mess everything up. (Name) leaned in, their foreheads touching.
“Sarebbe... meraviglioso.”
Their lips brushed his, they were softer than they could’ve ever imagined, he couldn’t help but open his mouth slightly more and let out a small, almost inaudible gasp. His worries evaporated, his shoulders loosened under the soft touch of his now lover’s hands. He could feel their hands moving from his shoulders to his neck, which gave him the hint that he was supposed to do something, too.
He tenderly pulled them closer, careful not to accidentally break the kiss that was making his cheeks redden even more, second after second, touch after touch. His eyebrows furrowed as he felt (Name)’s lips separating from his, but the shortness of breath made him refrain from leaning in for a second one.
With their cheeks as flushed as ever they stared at each other in an adoring way, Giorno’s fingers running down their spine in a soothing manner.
“So... how was your first kiss?” they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.
“It was perfect.”
101 notes · View notes
theasstour · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
0108. Le cygne.
Friday, 12 February 2015
FIC PAGE | CHAPTER SYMPHONY | WORD COUNT: 5.7k
NB: explicit language, alcohol, harry being a dream and a half
“Blimey,” Teresa mumbled before biting into her green apple. “I do want to kill Thursdays sometimes.”
They were on their 15-minute break in their three-hour Composing I seminar, neither of them feeling like talking. Once the break started, they could almost sense when the other one did not want to interact or talk, so if that was the case then the girls would keep quiet. Today had kind of been like that, Y/N sitting on her phone while Teresa jut ate her apple and stared off into nothing. When her friend spoke, Y/N almost jumped a little, yawning as she tore her eyes away from her phone to look over at Teresa.
“And why’s that?”
“Because they’re so bloody boring. Could keep myself entertained by sorting my entire life out instead of attending this seminar.”
Y/N scoffed and Teresa raised her eyebrows.
“What? You think I’m joking?”
“No, just think you have one hell of a task ahead of you.”
Teresa laughed, opening her laptop on her desk again and looking up something on Google. Y/N turned back to her phone and stopped immediately. A new mail. Response to her application to a job. With her heart beating wildly in her chest, Y/N opened the mail, sure Teresa could tell the difference in her body language. Shoulders high with tension, breathing heavier, and eyes wide open; it was hard not to notice something was up. But if Teresa noticed a change in Y/N, she didn’t say anything. However, Y/N herself was way too busy opening her mail to notice anything but the lit up phone screen in front of her.
Dear Miss Picot,
We are sorry to inform you…
Y/N didn’t read the rest. It was enough to read the three first words to know what the rest of the mail involved. She excited the mail app and closed her phone, putting it down on the desk and staring at it for a little while. This was one of the countless times she had been declined even a job interview, and she didn’t even want to think about the number if you added the failed job interviews on top of that. She felt like she would never get one, no matter how hard she tried. Every time she got declined it was like yet another blow to the stomach. It never failed to ruin her day. Though she was fully aware that she would probably get a job one day, she needed one now. She needed money because she couldn’t keep asking her parents for it and her loan would never be big enough to cover all her living expenses. So, Y/N resulted to staring at her phone and thinking about how much her life truly sucked. Yet again she had hit the lowest of low. Fantastic. How was she ever supposed to stop doubting herself when something as minor as this made her question her whole existence? How was she supposed to live a normal life when her anxiety treated her like this? Y/N ran two frustrated hands through her hair, sighing lowly to herself.
“What’s up?” Teresa asked, catching onto Y/N’s foul mood.
“Just…” She sighed. “Didn’t get a job interview.”
“It’s just one job interview, there will be plenty more in the future.” Teresa reassured Y/N, biting into her apple.
“I know,” Y/N said. “But I… I have applied to so many and some don’t get back to me, some do but don’t offer me a job interview, some do give me an interview, but never a proper chance.” Y/N groaned, getting her laptop out of her rucksack so she could entertain herself with something online for the remainder of the seminar. “I’m so sick and tired of never being good enough.”
“Okay, shut up.” Teresa frowned, throwing her apple into the bin not too far away from their two desks. “Because you are good enough.”
“But-“
“-It takes time getting a job. In all my life I’ve lived in London, and I’ve only had one job because it’s bloody impossible to get one, Y/N.” Teresa explained. “Everything will come in due time, even though it might not seem that way now.”
“It certainly does not.”
Teresa smiled, shaking her head a little. “Ever thought about performing?”
Y/N looked over at her friend, furrowing her brows a little. “What do you mean?”
“Well, the uni helps music students find places to perform so they can get their music out there.” Teresa explained. “You haven’t heard of this?”
Y/N shook her head.
“Basically, go talk to one of the student representatives for Music, and they’ll tell you everything.”
“Have you talked to them about this?” Y/N asked.
“No, but I paid attention during our first week here.” Teresa explained, shrugging her shoulders. “Unlike someone else.”
Y/N giggled. “What do you know about this performing thing?”
“There are tons of bars and pubs in London, yea? They help talk to some so you can perform and if their customers like you, they’ll end up paying you to come in. So, you need to impress on the first try and all that. Which I think is very hard since you’re in London and there are loads of other performers out there.” Teresa said, twirling a curl around her index finger. “Thought about asking them or help myself, to be honest, I just don’t even know what songs I would choose or how I would perform.”
Y/N nodded, logging onto Canvas. She looked around the website for a bit before she noticed the silence stretching out between them. Looking over at Teresa, she noticed her friend sitting there with wide eyes and an expression on her face that told Y/N she had an idea. Teresa blinked a few times as she came back down to earth, but slowly a smile crept up on her lips.
“Y/N.”
“Resa.”
“We should perform together.”
Y/N stopped for a little bit to let the idea sink in. Teresa’s voice when she sang reminded Y/N of silk; it was soft and elegant and one wouldn’t mind wearing it all day long. So for someone so talented to even be suggesting that the two of them join up and perform around London together was such an honour that Y/N felt a little taken aback. Teresa looked hopeful, eyes wide as she watched Y/N think about the idea she’d just had. Y/N only stared at her friend, so Teresa opened her mouth.
“You play the violin, I sing. We make a duo.”
Y/N turned toward Teresa.
“We could play whatever we wanted to, and wherever we’d go in London we’d be us two.” Teresa smiled. “We’ll have so much fun, Y/N.”
Y/N smiled a little back. “How often would we perform?”
“As often as we got offers and opportunities, I suppose.” Teresa said. “As often as we have time and feel like it. It will be hard, but I have no doubt we’re going to make it work somehow. We just need to push through the hard time of getting semi recognised and places to work regularly.”
Y/N, for some odd reason, had never thought about this. The thought of performing at all had never entered her mind, performing with Teresa – someone she knew had an amazing voice and a passion for music to match her own – had never been up for debate because she didn’t know if she would ever be worthy. As the two friends looked at each other, thinking about what had just been suggested and all the different ways it could all work out, it dawned on them just how good of an idea this was. Teresa’s voice fit all kinds of music, but she was extraordinary when singing country or indie songs, which would most likely be the genre they’d play in. And Y/N could play just about anything on her violin if she just got some time to practice it beforehand. All of this went through both of their heads as they thought about all of this, and Teresa suddenly reached over and took Y/N’s hand, smiling widely.
“Y/N,” she said, voice soft. “This could be so good, don’t you reckon?”
“Yes.”
The reply left her lips before she even registered them, but it was true. It would be good. This was the best idea they had ever had. And it would be good. So good. Y/N turned her hand and entwined her fingers with Teresa’s, squeezing her friend’s hand as she returned a smile.
“Yes. It really could.”
Teresa smiled so big crinkles formed by the sides of her eyes. “Oh, my God.”
“I know.” Y/N tried not to clap her hands together and scream with joy at what they had just agreed on doing. “I know!”
Teresa squealed, making sure that the professor didn’t see her having a freak out at the back of the seminar room. Quickly, Teresa threw both her arms around Y/N, and the two friends hugged each other so tight it was like they melted into one. Y/N had never seen someone be this excited about something as she was before, the only exception being when Annie agreed to move in with her and Tiana, but this was something completely different. This was something Y/N had been struggling with for months now. They pulled apart and Teresa turned to her laptop and started typing away at a Word document.
“I’ll make a list of some pop, country and indie songs that could work with violin.”
And the rest of the seminar went to just that. Teresa would poke Y/N every now and then to ask her opinion on a song or to show her one, and Teresa added them all to the list as Y/N was too afraid to hurt Teresa’s feelings by saying she didn’t like a particular one. They walked out at the end of the seminar together, agreeing on a time to meet up and start planning and searching. They needed a meeting with the head of the Arts department at Battersea so they could ask all the questions they had and to make sure they were doing everything right. Y/N was listening to something Teresa was saying, completely emerging herself in the conversation, when she heard her name being uttered. She stopped, looking over her shoulder exactly as she had done some weeks prior, and found Harry standing by the wall. Arm crossed and his glasses on, he looked absolutely amazing. Y/N refrained from taking his outfit and body in, because every time she did she ended up staring and licking away drool at the edge of her mouth.
“Y/N.” He repeated, walking over to her.
“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” Teresa said, giving Y/N a wink before she turned around and walked off.
Y/N bit her lip, seeing Harry make his way over to her made her heart leap out of her chest and every cell in her body dance with anticipation. It was so exciting being close to him, she never knew what to expect or how to react and act around him. She felt comfortable in his presence, but at the same time, every single time they had been together, he had pushed her out of her comfort zone in some way. She never knew what to expect from him.
“Harry.” She said, as if feeling him in the air around her made her body say his name and not her mouth.
“Haven’t seen you in five days.” He frowned a little, arms at his sides and a frown etched into his forehead. “You avoiding me?”
Now it was Y/N’s turn to frown, as if she didn’t know exactly what he was talking about. There had been a slight tinge of embarrassment in her after the incident in the bathroom stall at The Grand, and she hated that she felt that way. She hated that she had wanted to when the Y/N she knew would never have done anything of the sort. It was as if someone else had taken control of her body in those few minutes it was all going on. Not that she regretted it, because she did not, but she was still well embarrassed. What of Harry had thought it hilarious? What if he gone and told it to his mates right away after? The last thing she wanted was to push Harry away, but she also knew that he could, after all of that and everything before, stomp all over her heart and break it into a million tiny little pieces if he wanted to. Avoiding him hadn’t been because of anyone but herself… Also because she got very paranoid and she didn’t want to ruin anything by being very awkward afterward.
“No.” Y/N replied, running a hand through her hair.
Harry raised his eyebrows. Y/N raised hers back.
“Well, if you are then I want you to know what happened last Friday was not a mistake.” Harry said, cutting straight to the point as he usually did when Y/N wouldn’t. “And you don’t have to tread lightly around me because that’s the last thing I want you to do.”
Y/N drew in a breath. Harry’s stare was intense, not the extreme kind that made her wish to disappear into thin air, but the kind that made her understand he was paying attention to her. With every slight movement, every breath, every blink and utterance, he was giving her all his attention. The glance told her that he truly cared, he truly wanted to know what was bothering her so much that she had gone out of her way to not see him this last week. Even though the paranoid side of her told her there was more to him acting this way, Y/N knew Harry. A decent human being who wouldn’t talk shit about her to his mates.
“I-I just thought…” Y/N trailed off, swallowing a lump in her throat she didn’t know how had appeared there. “Since we didn’t talk since… that you might… might-“
“-Regret it?”
Y/N looked up at him, biting her lower lip before nodding twice.
“Darling,” he smiled a little. “Only thing I’d regret if we had come to that, you getting off on my thigh, and someone walked in looking for you, would be if I didn’t help you finish.”
It was suddenly very hard to breathe, and Y/N hated how her eyes fell to his lips for a split second before they met Harry’s again. Whenever he was close to her, all she wanted to do was take him in; all angles, features, and spoken words. Looking at him both calmed her down and sent her heart racing. He noticed Y/N staring at his lips for a few, giving her a little smile as he did the same. But the smile quickly vanished, and he suddenly grew very serious.
“You left.” He suddenly said. Y/N’s stomach dropped. “You promised not to avoid me once we came down from the loos, and you… just left.”
She nodded, fully aware of what she had done and the fact that Harry most likely didn’t appreciate it.
“Why-Why did you leave? Looked around the whole club for you.”
“Tiana was ready to.” Y/N explained. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you, it was wrong of me to bolt.”
Harry sighed, looking at the ground between them. “No, it wasn’t. Don’t have to tell me nothing if you don’t want to, we’re not-“ Harry stopped himself, looking into her eyes again. It seemed like he was struggling to find the right word, as if none of the ones he had thought about when he started that sentence fit. Studying her eyes, he lost himself in the memories yet to be created and those that already had been. It was easy to get lost in something you found great interest in. So, when Harry finally found his ability to talk again, he opened his mouth. “Something. I don’t have the right to know everything you’re doing.”
Y/N frowned a little. “I promised not to avoid you and I did. You’re not mad?”
Harry smiled a little. “I’d never be mad. Just sad I didn’t get to spend time with you.” He said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Figured you didn’t leave without an actual reason. That isn’t like you.”
Y/N bit her lip, trying not to giggle.
“Sad, though,” Harry nodded. “That I am.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Harry said. “You’re not avoiding me now, are you?”
Y/N smiled a little. “Still. I’m sorry. I just get awkward, and it’s nothing to do with you and all to do with me.”
Harry grew serious again, taking another step closer to her so that she could smell his cologne now. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me, Y/N.”
She only looked at him, a little at loss for words.
“Ever.”
Y/N nodded.
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Nod.” He smiled. “It’s cute. Your hair always moves with it and I like your hair.”
Her cheeks flared and Y/N felt the need to turn her back to Harry so he wouldn’t see just how flustered he got her. By this point it was impossible for him not to know the exact effect he had on her. It was so pathetic, Y/N thought, how little he had to do or say for her to melt into him. There wasn’t a chance in hell of him not knowing the exact way she felt about him. The way she looked at him and acted around him must be enough of an indicator in itself.
“Have to leave.” Harry said suddenly. “Heading to Euston.”
Y/N frowned again as she watched Harry button up his coat, wondering what he was going to be doing at London Euston.
“Going home for a few days.”
Y/N blinked. “To Manchester?”
“Yea.” Harry wrapped a blue scarf around his neck, tucking it into his coat. “Dad needs me.”
Y/N bit her lips together, not wanting to pry.
“But worry not,” he grinned now, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be back for you, darling. See you in a week.”
And just like that, Harry walked off, leaving Y/N to look at his back as he disappeared from view. It was then that Y/N realised she knew next to nothing about Harry’s family. The only thing he had told her one time was that he was from Manchester, that he had lived in the city all his life and barely left it because of his father’s business and his mother’s job. But Manchester was a 3-hour and £80 train ride from London Euston, which only made Y/N wonder why Harry had decided to go to a uni so far from home. There could well be absolutely no other reason behind it other than the fact that he simply wanted to move out of Manchester for four years, but she couldn’t help herself from asking that question over and over in her head. Why did he want to go to a uni so far from Manchester and his home? Everyone else Y/N knew at Battersea were from the South, Harry was the only one from the North.
It didn’t take long for Y/N to get back to Westbridge Halls. With the hood of her raincoat over her head and earbuds playing soft Brahms, Y/N felt content on her way home. She changed into dry loungewear and felt herself relax into the safeness of flat 34. Getting her tea mug from her desk, she walked out of her room and to the kitchen to make herself a cuppa and some food. Today had been a roller coaster and she was starving. As she entered the kitchen, Y/N saw Annie standing by the fridge, looking into it. Giving her a smile, Y/N quickly stopped on her way over to the kettle when she saw Annie’s red eyes. Tears stained her cheeks and her chest moved with sobs wanting to escape.
Their eyes met and Annie froze, so did Y/N. Both girls were so shocked to see the other that the whole situation made both stop functioning for a little while. Thought Y/N rarely spoke unless spoken to, she knew not speaking now would be the worst possible option.
“Annie-“
“-I’m fine.” Annie interrupted, giving Y/N an unconvincing smile. “I’m fine, Y/N.”
Then she hurried off, out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room. Once again Y/N was left staring after someone, wondering what was going on. She held on tightly to her mug, fearing it might break, because seeing Annie that upset without knowing what was plaguing her did not sit right with Y/N. But never would she force anything out of Annie either. As she made her cuppa and dinner, Y/N stood thinking about Annie and how she, as her friend, didn’t know how to help properly.
Tumblr media
Friday, 20 February 2015
Hating every single academic piece you wrote when at uni was a disease most students suffered from. Typing one word into your document every five minutes and then giving up once a full sentence was finally formed was the way most essays were born and formed. Y/N sat in her room doing exactly that one late February Friday, looking at her laptop screen and praying to God this essay would somehow end up writing itself. It was raining outside, soft pattering sounded against Y/N’s window and quiet music from her speaker. She was trying to calm herself down enough so once she got going on her essay, it would flow easily. But it didn’t seem to be working. All she could think about was how little she wanted to be writing her essay, and how much more she’d like to sit in the kitchen with the others.
As of on que, the doorbell rang and Y/N heard Finn run to let someone in. Flat 8 of Cotton Row walked in and Finn was singing along to the song playing from inside the kitchen, clapping his hands and hyping everyone up. Y/N couldn’t hear anyone talking except for those that already were in the kitchen. She wouldn’t even try to hide the fact that she was listening out for Harry’s voice amongst the chaos of the pre-drinks. The door into the kitchen closed and Y/N looked back at her Word document, groaning to herself.
The two flats were going to a house party in Balham, and Becky thought it would be a brilliant idea to have pres together then. Finn obviously loved this idea and texted the groupchat he had with Wade, Harry and Sai right away. Sai had undoubtably arrived with flat 8, and everyone were now hanging out in the kitchen getting drunk together. Though Y/N knew she probably would have stayed in instead of going to the house party anyway, it would have been nice to have the option. Now, with her 2000-word essay, she had to stay back. Before going to university, she had made a promise with herself to prioritise uni over everything, and she had therefore informed her flat she wouldn’t be coming along. They had understood, and Spencer promised he’d try and make everyone keep the volume down for her.
Y/N sat upright in her chair, sighing heavily and running both hands through her hair before putting it in a loose bun at the top of her head. Rolling her shoulders, she reached her hands out toward the laptop and started typing. Once she saw herself done with a paragraph, she sat back and read through it, feeling proud for finally having been able to write something. That feeling of euphoria soon vanished when she read through what she had written and felt everything inside her turn when she cringed. Groaning once again, Y/N deleted the whole paragraph and started over again.
She didn’t know how long she sat there for, writing and deleting and moaning and revaluating every life decision that had led to this moment. Rubbing her hands over her face, running both her hands over her eyelids to wake herself up, Y/N tried to concentrate once again. Her fingers pressed letters into words and words into sentences. Though she was unsure if it made any sense at all, she didn’t much care by this point. To put her mind someplace else, Y/N stopped the music coming from her speaker and got her violin out. Closing her eyes, she played a piece she knew by heart.
Le Cygne, or The Swan, by Camille Saint-Saëns was one of Y/N’s favourite solos to play. Originally a cello solo, Y/N had admired it so much when she had first heard it around the time started playing the violin, so she had figured out a way to play it herself. Ever since then, she had been able to play it without a sheet, and whenever she needed to think about something else for a little while, Y/N would find her violin and play Le Cygne. For three minutes, she lost herself in between musical notes, four strings, and the way the violin felt resting against her skin. Soft music emerged from the connection between her bow and strings, and as Y/N felt her shoulders relax and the tension in her entire body evaporate, the corners of her mouth tipped up.
But a knock at her door made her stop, whipping her head towards it. She hadn’t heard anyone open the kitchen door or the music from the communal area drift into the hallway to indicate anyone walking about. Carefully, Y/N put her violin in its case and walked over to the door. She took a small step back when she opened the door and saw Harry standing there. With drunk and glassy eyes, he looked at her with a look of amusement, like he had just seen something he found highly interesting. Clearing her throat, Y/N gripped the handle tighter and shifted the weight of her feet from one to the other.
“Hi.” She said, voice low.
“Can’t you come out?”
Y/N’s heart stopped. Eyes grew wide. Did he know? “W-What?”
Harry laughed. “Your face,” he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall opposite Y/N’s room. “Jesus, Y/N, I’m only asking you to come into the kitchen.” He cocked his head to the side. “Need you in there.”
She looked over her shoulder and then at Harry. “Need me in there?”
Harry took a step forward. “Uh-huh.”
“Sorry, Harry, I’m doing my essay. Didn’t they tell you?”
He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “They did, but I’m drunk and…” He smiled, blinking slowly as he stared at Y/N. “And you weren’t in the kitchen.”
Y/N didn’t know how it was possible for her to feel all the butterflies in the world all at once at the mere sound of someone’s voice, but Harry somehow managed to make them all appear. Swallowing, Y/N was about to suggest Harry go back to the others when he started talking again.
“Remember in November when I asked if I’d ever hear you play the violin?” Harry asked. “And you said ‘In your dreams’?”
Y/N smiled a little. He remembered that?
“Couldn’t help but to listen to you play while I was having a wee.” Harry pointed towards the loo, grinning. “And you’re bloody brilliant.”
Y/N looked at the floor. “Thank you.”
“Mind playing that piece for me again?”
She looked up at him then, seeing the honesty and need in his eyes when they met. Stepping aside, Y/N let Harry into her room for the second time, watching as he walked over to her bed. He looked around, smiling to himself as he took in the pictures on the board and the fairylights hanging about. Y/N got her throw out and spread it out over her bed so Harry could sit down.
“What piece were you just playing?”
“Le Cygne.”
“Right.”
Y/N looked over at Harry as he sat nodding in her bed. She smiled. “It’s one of my favourite solos. Know it by heart.”
Harry smiled a little at that, watching her take the violin out of its case. “Played it long?”
“Ever since I knew how to play.”
“Can’t wait then.” He placed his hands in his chest and looked up at her eagerly.
Placing the violin to her chin and shoulder, Y/N suddenly felt a little nervous. Harry had never seen her escape into the music. And when it was just the two of them in a room like this, playing him Le Cygne was suddenly very intimate. But she closed her eyes, knowing that if she started overthinking she’d be able to screw up a song she hadn’t done wrong in years. The bow danced over the strings as Y/N started playing. It was easy to forget someone else was in the room with her when she played, but somehow Harry took up more space than she thought he did. Maybe not physically, but she felt the pressure of his presence on her heart, and as she played, it was as if both that pressure and the feeling of floating with the music intensified. She was very aware of Harry as she forgot about the world, because somehow he managed to forget with her.
Y/N felt as if they were both in a boat in the lake by the Picot Farm, that same boat she used to lay in each summer and just read or relax. Harry sat with her in that boat, smiling at her, and the sky behind him and overhead painted a magnificent and radiant colour of pink and orange. The trees were a dark green as they always were, and the world around them quiet, except for Le Cygne playing softly from Y/N’s violin. Harry was glowing slightly, lighting up in the dark afternoon that would soon turn night; like her very own lantern to illuminate against the blackness of the world. Her heart was beating faster now as the solo was coming to an end, and as she lowered her violin from her chin, looking over at Harry on her bed, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he had truly travelled with her through music and space.
He was gaping at her, a softness in his green eyes that it was impossible to conjure up unless it was of the most genuine kind. He just looked at her, unable to properly form words or tell her how he felt. It had been so beautiful, and Y/N had played it flawlessly, and they both knew after this, there was no way they would ever be able to forget about the other ever. Neither knew where they were going, but the whole experience had done something to both of them. Had changed the rhythm of their hearts and coloured their world a little more detailed.
“You…” Harry started, feeling himself incapable to say anything coherent. He swallowed. “You’re so fucking… so…”
Y/N put her violin back in its case, looking over at Harry when he said the next word, “Everything. You’re everything.”
Y/N didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t know if it was meant in a positive way or if she ever would know what he had thought about before uttering it. But Harry’s drunk self had a reason for it, she guessed. She watched him get up from her bed, swallowing as he came to stand right before her. His fingers traced up her bare arm, sending shocks of something resembling electricity throughout her entire body. Squeezing her shoulder, Y/N’s breath hitched, and when Harry’s hand made contact with her neck, she had no idea how much longer she would be able to stand for. Breaths mingling into one and their eyes frantically looking from one to the other to their lips. They hated space, hated the concept of being far apart from one another. That was when Harry’s palm came to rest at Y/N’s cheek, she suddenly felt like fitting the last piece to a puzzle. The whole picture was complete. She saw it clearly now.
She looked down at his forearm at his tattoo, chest swelling with some sort of pride. The bloke she had ended up falling for was a good person. A very good person, and he treated her and everyone with nothing but respect. It was as if she felt like she had done something right for once. She had chosen the right person and felt at peace at the thought of maybe one day loving him, if he let her. Their eyes met again, and Y/N could feel one of Harry’s curls against her forehead.
“Harry!”
Harry closed his eyes, swearing under his breath.
“Mate, are you taking a huge fucking shite?!”
Harry opened his eyes, mouth closed in frustration.
“You better go.” Y/N said, giving him a little smile.
“Harry!” Finn pounded on the bathroom door, opening it to finding no one there. “What the…”
“Wish me luck.” Harry mumbled, clearly annoyed with once again being interrupted. “Feel like I can never get you for myself.” Harry said, nose rubbing against Y/N’s forehead before he sighed into her hair. “Fucking hate it.”
“Boys,” Finn shouted into the kitchen. “Harry’s vanished into thin air!”
“Jesus Christ, what an absolute nutter.” Harry groaned, stepping away from Y/N and over to her door. He laid his hand on the doorknob, looking over his shoulder at her before turning it. “Good luck with your essay, Y/N.”
She smiled at him.
“Best fucking violinist I’ve ever known.”
Once again, Harry left Y/N to herself. She heard him shouting at Finn to stop being an idiot, and Finn shouting back that he thought he had lost his best mate. Y/N locked her door and giggled, leaning against it once the corridor outside was quiet. She bit her lip as the images of what had just happened flashed through her brain. Her life was finally falling into place.
TAGLIST
@swayingnoodlelove @littlestyles @showk1ndness @sydneysuit @hallwayharry @emotionally-imbruised @fuckyeahimahobbit @beksjewels @harryisadogperson @harryrocksagoodsuit @ifiwereaboy2323 @tiostyles @maroonmolly @harrysroguecurl @awomanindeniall @justsaying20 @ot4narrie @miss-nxvxcaine @sunflowersandrockstars @hard-on-harry @emma070900 @shitibitmytonge @always-jackedup @rainbowbutterflyboy @shegotthesalt @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss @mleestiles @bloodcastle30155 @harryskiwi2 @brielyse11 @for-fucks-sake-h @treat-harry-with-love @permanentllyharry @flooome @harryfeatcalum @mykissyharry @hydra-barnes @violets-parma @shadowsndaisies @messyherz @dancinglikeamadpersoninthedark @kakaym @loveandyourstrulyh @onedirectionhoe @yes-daddy-i-willl @itsnoneofyourbusiness94
Would you like to be notified when I update Symphonies of You? Tell me here and I’ll add you to the taglist!
218 notes · View notes
Text
Karaoke Date
So my last two MLQC one-shots went from really long to fairly short and this one is solidly in the middle. I recently had a lot of professional musicians tell me I have a good singing voice so this just felt like a lot of fun.
Tumblr media
I was sitting in my office when my phone rang. Glancing at the Caller ID and contact photo, Kiro’s smiling face and bright eyes were looking back at me. I picked it up. “Hey Kiro,” I greeted.
“Miss Chips!” Kiro replied happily, like he didn’t think I would answer. I chuckled.
“What can I help you with?”
“I came up with a brilliant idea! Hear me out,” he said dramatically. “You and me: karaoke!”
I blinked. “Uh… Kiro?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re a superstar. Why would you even think that’s a good idea? You get mobbed stepping out your front door. Putting you on a stage in some bar under a bright spotlight and singing a song—even if it’s not one of yours—would be the biggest security risk I can think of. Your agent would kill me if I let you—”
“But that’s the thing! There’s this new karaoke place in town where you’re in individual rooms but your microphone is projected into all the other ones. You can lock the door and sing completely anonymously. I could go in there and sing someone else’s song and no one would know it’s me!”
“I’m pretty sure everyone would know it’s you because they can, y’know, recognize your voice… but I guess you have a point.”
“So you’ll go with me?”
“Sure.”
“Great! I’m gonna come pick you up from work tonight if that’s okay!”
I smiled. “That’s just fine. I’ll be waiting for you.” If that wasn’t the motivation I needed to get everything done in the set work schedule today rather than going overtime, I wasn’t sure what was.
“Why are you smiling, bossman?” Kiki asked.
“A friend is picking me up for karaoke after work,” I said. I purposely left Kiro’s name out of the conversation because I knew Kiki wanted me to date him and I didn’t want her to have a full-scale squeal-fest in the middle of the office when it was this early in the morning.
“Oh have fun!” Kiki said.
“I will. Definitely.”
*****
“Good evening, Miss Chips. Your chariot awaits,” Kiro said, opening the car door for me. It was a nice car—not as expensive as Victor’s but still a piece of art on wheels. He had on a hat and hipster glasses, covering his blond hair and bright eyes, as well as baggy, dark clothes. His jewelry was still the same but I’d only ever seen him without his earrings once or twice, and never without his ring. Not even at the summit. How that hadn’t given him away, I’d never figured that out. Maybe the people at the summit weren’t looking for his telltale styles.
“Hi, Ki—” I greeted, cutting myself off from saying his name. I ducked into his car. “What should I call you tonight?”
He shut the car door once he made sure I was safely in and jogged around the hood to the driver’s side. He slid in himself, so fast he nearly knocked his hat off. He gave me a dazzling smile. “I think tonight I should be… Lee. Just Lee.”
I smiled. “Okay. Lee. How was your day?”
“Long and exhausting, but I’m all better for seeing you.”
What an absolute sweetheart. “Aw. Thanks. I’m better for seeing you too.”
He beamed at me and we drove off. The radio was playing classical music, strings and winds running around each other, competing for dominance and then blending together in a perfect choir.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Kiro said.
“I’m just… listening to the music. I figured you were more of a pop radio guy.”
He snorted. “Just because I sing that stuff doesn’t mean I like listening to it in the car. Classical is so much more interesting. Have you read sheet music?”
“All the time,” I said. “I’m a pianist. And I play the cello a little.”
“Yeah. So you see my point. Pop music is so boring from a sheet music perspective.”
“I agree,” I said, thinking back on when Anna bought me a book of the most popular music of the year for piano and the music was waaay below my skill level and so simple I didn’t even need the music to figure it out by ear.
“Finally. Usually people seem shocked that my own genre isn’t my favorite,” Kiro remarked.
“Well we’re all more complex than people tend to think. We like to put things in boxes, but people never fit in boxes,” I said. Kiro hummed in agreement and kept driving. I realized he was a much safer driver than any other guy I’d been in the car with recently—except maybe Lucien. Gavin was reckless and Victor drove so fast—but Kiro was pretty cautious. I got the feeling that maybe he didn’t drive very often.
We got to the karaoke place in good time. I handled the check-in while Kiro stood just slightly behind me, not making eye contact with anyone but holding my hand. We were escorted to a private room. There was a tablet set into the wall where we could make song selections and order food and stuff.
Kiro locked the door and winked at me. “Don’t wanna be caught by any fans,” he whispered before examining the equipment. There was a bright smile on his face. “Ah, man! It’s been so long since I did something silly and normal like this!”
“Well let’s not waste time, then,” I said, crossing to the tablet set into the wall. “Let’s see… how about…” I started listing off his own song titles with a playful grin on my face. Kiro came up behind me, his torso pressing against my side and one hand resting on my shoulder to read past me.
“No way am I doing one of my own songs. That’s how I get caught,” he said.
I giggled—I couldn’t help it. “I knooow. I’m just playing with you.”
He tsked. “How rude, Miss Chips,” he teased.
I snorted. “How about this one?” I gestured to a song title. “I mean, if you want to do a duet.”
“Of course I do! I can’t wait to hear how good you are!”
I laughed. “Hold your horses, tiger. I can carry a tune but I’m nowhere near your level, Mr. Superstar.”
Before I could say anything else, Kiro reserved the song for us. The tablet gave off instructions so we’d know when it was our turn. Someone else’s slightly-off-key singing was echoing over our speakers. We turned it down a little so we could talk.
We just chatted for a few minutes. There were only two songs before us, according to the queue on the tablet screen.
When we got to be on-deck, Kiro and I took our microphones.
He looked at me as the guitar began. “Tell me somethin’ girl… are you tired of this modern world…” He had such a beautiful, crisp, clear voice. It captivated me and pulled me right in. I stared at those bright blue eyes and could have gone for a swim in them. He sounded incredible. I wondered if anyone recognized his voice.
He sang it better than the original recording with What’s-His-Face. Maybe I just like singing something straight—without overdoing the stylization. Kiro didn’t bother with fancy riffs or vibrato.
It was my turn to pick up with the female part. I cleared my throat away from the mic and then held it close. “Tell me somethin’ boy… aren’t you tired of tryna fill that void…” I started quiet but confident. I knew the lyrics—and even if I didn’t, they were on the huge TV screen that was meant for karaoke. Kiro stared back at me, both of us just holding the other’s gaze.
For the life of me, I couldn’t read his expression.
I held the mic slightly farther away from my mouth so I could let out my full belt. I’d always spoken with a loud voice and accompanying that was a singing voice that could fill a Broadway theater. I’d been taught how to sing quietly, but letting loose felt so much better.
“I’M OFF THE DEEP AND WATCH AS I DIVE IN—I’LL NEVER MEET THE GROU-OU-OUND!”
Kiro stared at me with his jaw going slack. I felt my ears reddening and my voice wavered as though I was performing in front of an audience looking right at me instead of just Kiro.
But he picked up the harmonies perfectly when he was supposed to come in, and he knew them. He didn’t even look at the lyrics on screen. Neither did I. We didn’t need them. I did the vocalization in the middle, slowly building up the volume and then repeated the refrain. Kiro added the harmonies again.
I didn’t realize until the song petered out a few seconds later that we were standing within inches of each other. His warm breath brushed over my face.
I put the mic back on its stand. Kiro did the same. After a few moments, another song started up, signaling to us that our equipment had been turned off. Kiro immediately grabbed my arms with a massive smile on his face.
“Miss Chips!” he exclaimed. “That was amazing! Why didn’t you tell me that you could sing like that! You should come on stage at my next concert!”
I shook my head. “Oh no. I don’t sing in front of crowds that big. I don’t… sing in front of crowds, period. But thanks, Kiro.”
He fell onto the couch in our little room. “I cannot believe you never told me you were that good! You should be in front of the camera as a star—not behind it producing.”
I chuckled and crossed over, standing next to him but turned slightly toward the tablet screen so I could look at the food menu and the other songs. “But I like my job,” I said.
He leaned forward, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me down onto the sofa.
Except he misjudged the angle and I ended up falling right across his lap with a, “Whoa—WHOA!”
He caught me with a hearty laugh. “Whoops! Sorry,” he said, sounding entirely and genuinely unapologetic. But the sparkle in his eyes dissolved my irritation completely.
“It’s fine,” I said.
“We need to make this a regular thing. Come and do karaoke. I can’t go the rest of my life never hearing you sing ever again—you sound so good!”
“Kiro…”
“I’m serious, Miss Chips. It can be our little getaway thing. Or you can come to my place any time you wanna practice. I just… I’ve discovered my new favorite artist,” he said.
I snorted. “Thanks,” I muttered.
He brushed a few strands of my hair out of my face, eyes peering deep into my soul with earnest affection. We froze right there for several moments, someone singing what could have been Welcome to the Black Parade in one of the other rooms. The song was fuzzy though, tuned out as we focused solely on each other.
Heat spread over my face, originating from my ears and crawling down my neck too.
So many thoughts swirled through my head all at once that I couldn’t make sense of any of them. One of them, though, rang out loud and clear, like a bell, as I stared at Kiro’s smiling eyes.
I love you.
The thought pulled me up short and my face got even hotter. I must have been turning bright red. I slowly picked my way off Kiro’s lap and went back to the tablet screen. “Want to get something to eat?” I asked. “I’m hungry.” I hoped that would be the end of it. Not that I wasn’t enjoying the moment but… I wasn’t ready to say those three words out loud yet. Kiro was… a great guy and I really liked him but he was so busy all the time. I didn’t know if I wanted to get involved in a relationship with a superstar.
If there was ever a way to get thrust into the spotlight without being a public artist myself, that was it.
“Something wrong?” Kiro asked gently at the sudden change.
“No. Just hungry. Haven’t eaten since noon and it’s…” I glanced at the clock on the tablet screen. “Holy—wow. It’s seven-PM. No wonder I’m getting a little woozy. I haven’t eaten in forever.”
Kiro pressed against my side again as I browsed the food menu. We picked what to eat and I returned to the sofa. Kiro stayed at the tablet for a second though, scrolling through songs.
“Wow,” he said. “They have a lot of my songs here.”
I snickered. “Everyone loves your songs and wants to sing them, I guess,” I said.
He turned and fell back onto the sofa next to me. “Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No!”
“Well—it’s just—you just—you went all red and got up like I… like I did something wrong.”
“It was nothing you did, I promise,” I said. “It was just… I felt like you were looking right into my soul. I psyched myself out.”
Kiro smiled. “Maybe I was looking into your soul,” he teased.
I defaulted to playful mode to get over the awkward. “Oh yeah? Did you like what you saw?”
He leaned incredibly close to me. “I loved it,” he said seriously, so breathy it was almost a whisper. Immediately my heart hammered against my sternum so hard I thought it might break my ribs.
There was that piercing look again. The one where he was seeing the contents of my heart and soul laid bare. He was so close that if I barely shifted forward I could kiss him.
Over the speakers, someone was singing one of Kiro’s love songs—one I’d listened to… way too many times. Especially on days I was feeling lonely or down on myself. It was hard, even over a recording, not to feel like Kiro was singing right to my heart. Singing for me and only me.
And I’m sure everyone who listened to that song felt the same way.
The karaoke singer definitely didn’t have the nuance of Kiro’s voice, nor Kiro’s charm, but they sounded good.
But all of that was at the very back of my mind while the artist himself was looking at me like he was trying to shine his sunlight on the deepest, darkest depths of my heart.
And there was that thought again, amongst the too-fast swirling other thoughts.
I love you.
Feeling impulsive—and knowing we had quite a while to wait for food to come—i leaned forward, closing the distance between us.
He met me with enthusiasm, his fingers sliding into my hair. I felt the ring on his right finger brush my left earlobe. My nose was squished against his cheek, letting me smell his skin. I couldn’t tell if I recognized his aftershave or not but it had a sharp sweetness to it.
Just like him.
His fingers flexed in my hair, pulling me even closer to him. I relaxed against him, letting him take the lead.
“I love you,” I breathed against his lips. “I’ve fallen for you hard. And I don’t intend to try to get up.”
He chuckled, his eyelashes brushing my cheek, not pulling away from me either. “I love you too,” he replied. “Every love song I ever wrote pales in comparison to how I actually feel for you. I never had the proper experience to write about being in love accurately until I fell for you.”
47 notes · View notes
mosylufanfic · 5 years
Text
Some Rules Are Meant to be Broken
Killervibe Week Day 4: Free Day
So . . . a little background on this. A long time ago (looooooooooooong time ago) some lovely nonny sent me a request for a matchmaker AU. I went OOOOOO. My brain started popping and fizzing with thoughts and before I knew it I had a whole multi-chapter story in my head. Which was where it stayed, because I think I was working on other multi-parters at the time and there are only so many hours in the day. I maybe wrote one scene, and then it sank into the depths of my Gdocs like a dinosaur succumbing to the tar pits.
This happens way more often than I care to admit.
Then I was whining on Discord about how I was suffering from choice paralysis for Free Day. Too many ideas, not enough words. And I realized I had a whole bunch of partial fics just sitting around, waiting for me to actually finish them up. So what did I do? Went back to the matchmaker AU and wrote the end. From scratch. In about a day and a half. In my defense it was all in the primordial ooze of my brain-meats, I just had to find the words and put them in the right order.
Anyway I hope if that very patient and long-denied nonny is reading this, you like it.
Some Rules Are Meant to be Broken
The offices of Connections were dim and shadowed as Cisco unlocked the door. He didn't bother hitting any lights, so familiar with the layout that he could navigate the waiting room by the dim light of the Central City skyline outside the windows.
He walked down the hall, past a wall of framed pictures that gleamed faintly in the low light. Happy couples, wedding invites, birth announcements, even the occasional letter or printed email thanking Connections for matching the client with the love of their life.
There were more inside his office, some of his personal triumphs. He turned away from them and felt around until he released the catch on two doors set into the wall. He pulled them open to reveal a small but well-stocked bar.
He ignored the glasses and the minifridge full of ice and chilled drinks, and grabbed a bottle of Scotch right off the shelf. A couple of steps took him to a small sitting area arranged by the window, and he dropped into one of the comfy chairs. Scowling, he worked the cork out. It released with a pop, and he tossed it aside and drank right from the bottle.
He didn't normally drink at work unless he was entertaining a client, but this was a special occasion. 
Twenty minutes later, the lights in the waiting room flicked on, and then his door opened and his overhead lights blazed. He squinted and said, "Hey."
His business partner, Iris West-Allen, leaned in the doorway. "Well, don’t you look pitiful."
He slouched in his chair, looking up at her.
"You gonna share?" she asked.
He swung the bottle in her general direction. "Have a snort."
She looked at it, shook her head, and got up to grab a glass from the bar, as comfortable in his office as she was in her own. She poured herself a couple of fingers of scotch and sipped. "You're chugging this?" she asked. 
"Yes," he said. "What’s the problem?"
"Nothing, if it was flavored vodka from Safeway. But this is a Lagavulin that's old enough to drive."
"Time it got drank, then," he said, and took another slug straight from the bottle, while she shook her head. "Great party," he said when the silence threatened to drown him.
"One of our best," she replied. "I saw at least five couples pairing off."
He stared at the label on the bottle. "Uh-huh."
"Even Caitlin Snow seemed to find someone she liked."
This time, the answer was much slower in coming. "Uh-huh."
"I don't know why we didn't think of introducing her and Ronnie before."
He shut his eyes and saw again the way that Caitlin had smiled and laughed with Ronnie Raymond. One of Iris's clients, not his, but Cisco knew him anyway because they matched up each others' clients all the time. Tall, good-looking, nice, smart, a go-getter, and on top of all that a genuinely good guy. Perfect for Caitlin. One of his better matches, honestly. 
Shit.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "They were perfect together."
Iris stared at him, then shook her head. "You ding-dong," she said. 
He rubbed his eyes and didn't offer a defense. He had none. 
"What's the first rule?"
"Don't talk about Fight Club?" When she glared, he sighed. "Figure out what the client wants, and give it to them."
"And the second rule?"
"Don't fall in love with a client."
"I told myself you were fine," she said. "I told myself you were a pro and have been for years. I thought, hey, Cisco really likes this client. She's a challenge, and he likes a challenge. You're meeting her week after week, talking over her dates, texting with her, but that's no big deal. We've all had clients we just clicked with."
"Yeah." Some of his best friends were former clients.
"And then Caitlin and Ronnie hit it off at the party, and I look over expecting to see you doing a goddamn happy dance. Instead you look like someone ran over your dog."
He remembered that moment. Not that he'd noticed Iris looking at him. But the moment he'd seen Caitlin laugh at something Ronnie said, touching his arm, smiling up at him, he hadn't had the bright zing! of a match successfully made.
Instead, it had been like cement pouring into his gut, as he realized that he was watching the woman he loved fall in love with someone else.
Iris swirled her Scotch and stared him down. "Did you sabotage her intros?"
He sat up straight. "No!" 
"Are you sure?"
"I - " He stopped.
What if he had? Maybe, subconsciously, he'd been in love with her since the moment she'd come into his office, grumpy and uncooperative because her mother had bought her a package of five introductions through a matchmaking service. What if he'd been finding matches that he could tell himself were the right guys for her, but in reality, were just wrong enough for her to keep coming back?
Keep seeing him. 
Keep talking to him.
Keep smiling at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. 
"I don't know," he muttered finally. 
Iris held out her hand. "Her file. Now."
Cisco slumped down into his chair and drank again. "Top drawer."
She went and got it, and refrained from pointing out that Caitlin's file was the only one in the top drawer. She flipped it open to study his notes for a moment. "She's got one more intro."
He took another drink. "From the looks of it, she won't be using it."
She shrugged. "We deposited the check for the full package. Until she uses it all, she's still a client."
"Right." Caitlin could come back years from now, asking for her last intro, and she would be entitled to it. 
What would he do if she did? Would he smile at her fondly, remembering that long-ago time when he'd fallen in love with her, the feelings soft and faded like old flower petals?
Or would they still be simmering away? Rising up in him like a volcano?
He didn't know which to hope for.
Iris tucked Caitlin's file under her arm and came back to the sitting area to give him a hug. "I'm sorry," she said in his ear, her voice gentle.
He leaned against her. "My fault," he muttered back. "I should have known what was going on sooner."
"Love catches us all unawares." She ruffled his hair and he ducked away from her, scowling and finger-combing it back into place. 
"You want to come over and watch terrible horror movies with my husband?" she asked. "I'll supply the ice cream and the tissues."
Tempting, but he knew that the whole time, he'd be remembering an evening he'd spent with Caitlin in much the same way. She'd been down because she'd gotten stood up for a third date, and Cisco had been the one supplying the ice cream. They'd ended up snuggled together on the couch - that exact couch right here, across from the chair he sat on - giggling helplessly over a cheesy sci-fi movie cued up on his laptop.
(He'd also taken great pleasure in calling Julian and ripping him a new one the next day. No spark or not, Connections clients did not stand up other clients without so much as a text.)
"I think I'll go home and wallow on my own for a day or two," he said, re-corking the Scotch and setting it on the coffee table. "Maybe crack open some Safeway vodka. I got a bottle of caramel flavor that's calling my name."
Iris eyed the level of the liquor. "Want me to drive you?"
He got to his feet and gulped when the floor tipped under his feet. "Maybe you'd better," he said.
He felt a little steadier when she dropped him off at his building. Steady enough to get up to his loft, anyway. She leaned over from the driver's seat, eyes compassionate. "Call me if you need me. Don't drink yourself to death."
"No promises," he said. 
"You gonna be okay?" she asked.
"I've fallen in love before," he said. "This is just one heartbreak. I'll survive, and I'll fall in love again someday."
But none of them would be her.
A week later, Cisco had clocked several hangovers, lots of empty Kleenex boxes, and about a million calories in ice cream. The sharp slice of pain had dulled to an ache in his chest. 
Three or four hundred times a day, he picked up his phone to text Caitlin. Sometimes it was an absent-minded, Oh hey, she'd enjoy this meme and sometimes it was what would it hurt to say hi? 
Sometimes, when he was being honest with himself, he was about to declare his love and beg her to be with him. 
She hadn't contacted him. Obviously, too busy being wildly in love with Ronnie Raymond. 
In his weaker moments, he pictured them holding hands as they walked by the river, dining by candlelight, kissing on a balcony before slipping inside to a darkened bedroom.
That was usually followed by more drinking, more tears, and more ice cream. 
He managed, somehow, to keep the messier moments out of the office, if only because he was intensely aware of Iris's compassionate and piercing eye. It helped that he'd given their office assistant the key to his liquor cabinet, with strict instructions not to give it back unless he was with a client, and threats of death and dismemberment if he caught Ralph with liquor on his breath at work. 
So Cisco was unfortunately sober as he sat at his desk, riffling through index cards with client names and brief notes on them, trying to figure out who would be enough of a match for each other to set up intros. 
Usually it felt like a jigsaw puzzle, moving people next to each other, making guesses at who would click into place. This guy would love that girl's quirky sense of humor. That guy would gel nicely with this guy's freewheeling lifestyle. That girl would be impressed by this girl's high-powered job. 
But for the past week, it had felt like shoving paper dolls around. The client cards sat on his desk, click-less. Not buzzing or fizzing in the way that meant this could be true love. Just . . . two people standing next to each other. 
He shoved his hands through his hair and let out a deep groan. 
This is what you do. You're good at it, and you love it.
"Not right now, I don't," he said to his empty office. 
His phone dinged with a text. He picked it up. Iris had written, Running late. Not going to be back for my 2:30. It’s an intake. Can you do it for me?
No prob, he wrote back. Here?
She'd prefer to meet at Jitters
Sometimes people asked for that. They didn't want to feel so much like they were contracting a service. More like they were chatting with a friend, asking for a casual setup. Cisco was happy to let them feel that way, even as they were John Hancock'ing the contract and promising to pay their more than healthy fee. 
And it would be good to get out of here. Stretch his legs, get some air and caffeine. Who knew - maybe a new client would kickstart his mojo. 
He tapped out, Has this new girl got a file?
On my desk 
You're the best
Damn right I am
He glanced at the time and realized he was going to need to book it in order to get downstairs to the coffee shop on time. Damn, Iris had cut it close. He dashed across the hall to his partner's office and grabbed the manila envelope that sat on her otherwise pristine desk. "Client meet at Jitters," he called out on his way through the waiting room. "Text if you need me."
"Got it, boss," Ralph said cheerily, scrolling through Facebook as he did a basic background check on a prospective client. 
"And don't call me boss."
"You betcha, boss."
Cisco rolled his eyes and yanked the door shut behind him.
He'd planned to have a quick look at their new client's file on the elevator, but it was occupied by a guy from the next floor up, someone he'd successfully set up last year. Cisco smiled and glad handed and made appreciative noises over the pictures of the house the couple had just bought together, but he stepped out of the elevator with the envelope still sealed. 
Jitters was on the street-level floor of their building. When he walked in, a barista waved to him and started making his usual without asking. He waved back and looked around. Nobody was obviously waiting, so he grabbed a quiet corner booth and settled down to open up the client file.
Instead of the usual intake form with attached picture, there was just a sheet of blank printer paper with Iris's scrawl dashed across it. 
Remember rule one.
He gaped at it. 
Then the heaviness of the envelope registered. He put his hand in and pulled out the sparkling starburst pin that they issued to all their clients, so they could identify each other at an intro. Worlds away from a chrysanthemum and a copy of Wuthering Heights. 
"What?" he whispered.
The bell over the door jingled, and he looked up. "Caitlin," he said numbly.
It felt like a year, not a week, since he'd seen her. He drank her in. God, she was so beautiful. But pale. She looked pale. And there were shadows under her eyes, even though she'd tried to hide them with makeup. 
Had she been lying awake like him? Or . . . maybe she'd been awake for a better reason, with Ronnie.
She smiled. Was it his imagination or was it a nervous smile? "Hi, Cisco. Can I sit down?"
"Hey. I actually - uh - I'm meeting a client here -" He saw the starburst pin on her blouse, identical to the one he held, and stopped. 
"You're meeting me," Caitlin said, taking a seat across from him.
"I don't - " Maybe he wasn't caffeinated enough, even though he'd downed three or four cups since this morning. "Did Iris talk to you?"
"Yes," she said, twisting her hands together on the tabletop. "You didn't text."
He avoided her eyes. "No, sorry, we've been busy - "
"You usually text the day after a date to see how it went, but you didn't, after the party. And you left that night kind of quickly, without saying goodbye. So I -  I waited a day and then I called the office, just in case you weren't feeling well. And Iris told me that she was going to be my matchmaker now."
"We do that sometimes," he said. "Shuffle things around. To redistribute the workload."
Lie and a half. They never, ever did that. They matched clients with matchmakers as carefully as they matched clients with each other. 
"Yes," Caitlin said. "That's what Iris said." 
"So - um. What's this all about? You just wanted to talk?" 
Was this Iris's idea of closure? Did she somehow think this would be good for him?
This was very much not good for him. He was already mentally selecting which flavor of vodka was going to destroy his liver tonight.
"I met with Iris here yesterday," Caitlin said. "We talked for awhile and then she asked me what I want. And I told her." She bit her lip and held his gaze. "I want you."
"Me," he said.
She nodded. Her hands twisted around themselves like a nest of anxious worms. "Not as my matchmaker. As - as my match."
He felt his mouth fall open. "But . . . " he said numbly. "But Ronnie. You were totally into Ronnie at the party."
"Ronnie was very nice," Caitlin said. "He asked for my number and we had dinner the next day. And if things were different, I could see us becoming something. But there was already you."
He swallowed hard. Him.
Him over Ronnie. Tall, hot, good-guy Ronnie. 
She twisted her hands again. "And I know I'm a client and you're a professional and there are rules about this kind of thing. But the best part of this whole experience has been you. Every date I went on, I was just thinking the whole time how to tell you about it. Every time your name pops up on my phone, my heart skips a beat. Every day I just want to come by the office here and see you, talk to you, and the days I could were just . . . better, Cisco, they were better."
She gulped air, as if the cascade of feelings had drained her lungs to the bottom. 
"Maybe this is like therapy where transference is a risk, and maybe you're just like that with everyone, but I -"
"I'm not, though," he said, reaching out across the table for her hand.
She stopped dead, her eyes going big. "You're not?"
He shook his head. "Only with you."
"Oh," she breathed.
"And I am a professional and we do have rules, but I was just - I was in the middle of it before I even knew what was happening."
"The middle of what?"
"Love," he said. "I'm all the way in the middle of love with you, and I've been a complete wreck trying to find my way out."
Her hand tightened on his. "Don't," she said. "Don't try to get out. Just stay here. With me."
She was too far away, a continent of table in between them. He scooted around the booth and took her face in his hands, asking a silent question.
She answered it by leaning forward and kissing him. 
Joy bubbled up, floating him away until his only anchors to earth were her lips on his, her arms around his neck, the curves of her body pressed up against his.
Something thumped, and someone coughed.
They broke apart and found the red-faced barista setting two coffees down in front of them. "Both on the Connections tab?" she asked.
Cisco dug in his pocket. "No, this is personal." He wiggled his brows at Cailtin. "I know how you feel about the first date, but seriously, let me get this."
She leaned into him. "Fine but I'm buying the ice cream later on."
The barista took his credit card away, still blushing, and Cisco took a sip of his latte. It was the same thing he always got, but it tasted like ambrosia. "So, ice cream?" he asked, taking Caitlin's hand.
"Well, or dinner, or . . ." She trailed off. "You're not going to get in trouble for this or anything, are you?"
"Considering Iris set this whole thing up like the scheming schemer she is, I'm gonna go with no."
"But what if you get your license revoked, or something?"
"Just how organized do you think we are?" He kissed her knuckles. "No, I'm not gonna lose my license. No license to lose. There are a couple of rules in the matchmaking biz, but they're kinda like the pirate code."
"Guidelines," Caitlin said, and he grinned hugely at her. 
"Exactly. There is a rule about never falling in love with a client, and that's a grey area for us, but technically you're Iris's client now, not mine."
"Mmmm. Seems like splitting hairs."
"I'll gladly split a few hairs for us," he said. "But the very first, most important rule is, get the client what they want." He squeezed her hand. "And you already told me what you want. Which is coincidentally what I want, which . . ." He paused. "Hang on, does that make me my own client now?" How much did he owe himself? Hmmm.
"Oh! Iris asked me to give you this," Caitlin said. She dug around in her purse and handed over an envelope with the logo of Connections in the return address corner. 
Somehow knowing what he would find, Cisco opened it anyway. Inside was an invoice. Iris's name was neatly typed in the Matchmaker line, and on the line where they would put the client's name, he saw his own.
One introduction, the invoice read. And down where the price would be, Iris had written I totally expect to be your best man.
Cisco grinned at it and tucked it away. "Hey," he said, reaching out to touch the starburst on Caitlin's shirt. "You can take that off. You're not going to need it anymore."
Caitlin peered down to undo the pin. "No, I most certainly won't."
FINIS
19 notes · View notes
nyctolovian · 6 years
Link
Yooooo im exhausted as hell and this is my 4th attempt at posting this after numerous failed attempts lol
anyway, have fun with this fic about done-but-concerned bakugou who just wants uraraka to have better eating habits. also, uraraka knows how to manipulate bakugou lol ok hope yall like it
Uraraka glared through the glass divider. Should she? She’d have to pay a high price for it. Could she afford that?
“Um...” The door beside her swung open and a young man popped his head out from behind it. “Miss, are you coming in?”
“Oh, um...” She glanced at her wallet. “No, I’m fine.”
Her stomach growled.
The waiter raised an eyebrow at her as her face heated up. “Okay. Then, could you please refrain from, um, glaring into our restaurant?”
Her cheeks burned as she glanced back inside. Sure enough, several faces stared back curiously and uncomfortably. She bowed down repeatedly, apologising profusely.
How much of a glutton was she to stare at all the ramen for so long she tuned out almost everything else?
Uraraka pressed her hands against her warm cheeks and turned around.
Bakugou was standing behind her with a smirk. “You’re definitely hungry. You don’t need to lie.”
“How long have you been there?” Uraraka asked sheepishly.
“Long enough. Why don’t you go in if you want to eat?”
“I’m not hungry, alright?” She pouted back.
Her stomach growled again. For a moment, Uraraka could’ve sworn that sudden blasts of heat, not unlike Bakugou’s explosions, spread across the underside of her skin.
Well, time to crawl into a hole and die.
“You should eat. You’re hungry,” Bakugou said, unamused.
“Well,” Uraraka muttered, scratching the back of her head, “it’s kind of expensive... I’ll just go home and make myself some instant ramen or something again.”
“Again?”
Uraraka silently cursed herself for the slip of her tongue. Bakugou’s too sharp.
Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “How often do you eat that kinda crap?”
Uraraka laughed nervously. “Not that often.”
He crossed his arms. “Specifically?”
“Maybe... um...” she mumbled as she pressed a finger to her cheek. “Almost... everyday?”
Bakugou didn’t even bother to hold back a loud sigh and an eyeroll. “Goddammit, Uraraka! You’re going to be a pro hero, right? Why the hell aren’t you taking better care of yourself?”
“I’m saving up, okay?” she said, pouting.
“For what? The bloody hospital bills you’ll have to pay from ruining your own fucking health?” he spat.
She winced.
Bakugou rubbed the back of his head. “You’re lucky I just got this,” he said as he yanked out a paper ball from his pocket. He unravelled it to reveal a voucher that gave them 20% off any two meal sets for the very restaurant they were standing in front of.
“Eating out isn’t exactly really healthy either...”
Bakugou snapped, “Well, it’s surely better than eating another miserable cup of noodles!”
Uraraka pursed her lips, unable to rebut that. Still, she didn’t take the voucher.
With a sigh, he shoved it into her hands and stalked off.
Then, she read the voucher closer. “Wait!” she called. “This one is a couples-only deal though!”
“Go find your boyfriend, Deku,” Bakugou replied, not bothering to turn around.
“He’s not...! Look, I don’t have a boyfriend!” Uraraka protested. “This voucher is useless to me.”
Bakugou groaned, spinning around to roll his eyes at her. “Are you stupid? You don’t have to have a boyfriend. You can just pretend to have one.”
“But that’s lying!”
“It’s still going to be two people using it in the end so it makes no fucking difference whether or not they’re really a couple or not. Just use it, Uraraka.”
Uraraka pressed a finger to her chin thoughtfully before asking, “Then, have you eaten?”
“I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this.”
Smiling, Uraraka went in through the automatic doors. She was practically bursting with pride at how she managed to drag Bakugou in with her. “Oh, come on. You said I could pretend to have a boyfriend just a while ago,” she whispered.
”Doesn’t mean I’m completely fine with it being me!” Bakugou hissed.
“It’s only once! Don’t worry.”
“Oh! Miss, you’re back?” the waiter asked as he passed them two sets of menu, surprised.
“Yes! My boyfriend finally arrived,” Uraraka replied as she hooked an arm around his. She elbowed Bakugou when all he did was grab the menu from the waiter and glare at it. “Right?”
“Don’t push it, Uraraka,” Bakugou growled.
The waiter gave Uraraka a look that was somewhere between confusion and alarm. She dismissed it quickly with an apologetic smile and dragged Bakugou to an empty table.
Sitting down heavily on the cushioned seat, she pouted at Bakugou. “You’re terrible at pretending to be a boyfriend.”
“I said I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend,” he mumbled as he roughly yanked the chair back and fell into it. “I never said I was going to be a good one.” He handed her the other menu that he took from the waiter.
As she received the menu, she gave Bakugou a teasing smirk. ”So you’re assuming the role of a bad boy?” When he scrunched up his face in disgust, she broke into laughter. “I don’t mind! As long as we manage to pass off as a couple long enough to use the voucher.”
”Fucking annoying,” he grumbled.
Uraraka scanned through the menu and picked what she wanted rather quickly. The cheapest set!
She looked up to see that Bakugou had also placed his menu down already. “What do you want?” he asked.
“The miso ramen set.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes. The waiter from before came over with a little notepad and a pen.
“Can I take your order?”
Uraraka gulped as she looked at Bakugou’s ramen.
“What the fuck are you ogling at? Don’t tell me you want my bowl now!” Bakugou spat. “I’m not giving you any.”
“I don’t want it!” she cried.
Bakugou had ordered the spicy ramen set. Extra spicy. When it arrived, he gave the broth a quick taste and added more chili into the bowl. The entire bowl was entirely red and Uraraka could even smell the chili from where she was sitting.
She watched as he mixed the ramen a little to spread the additional chili. Then, he slurped up the noodle hungrily. As the last strand slipped into his mouth, Uraraka saw the slight sheen of chili oil on his lips and her eyes widened.
Bakugou made no indication of pause as he pulled up some ramen with his chopsticks and placed in his spoon. He pushed the spoon under the surface of the broth and when he lifted the spoon again, the ramen was submerged in red.
He gulped that down quickly.
She could sense the satisfaction ripple off from him as he pulled more ramen from his bowl. She interrupted, “Wow. Bakugou, you really can eat spicy.”
“Hm?” He swallowed down his ramen. “You got a problem with that? Huh?”
“No! Of course not!” Uraraka said. “It’s just crazy how you can take something that spicy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat this much chili before.”
“I’ve eaten spicier,” he remarked as he brought the chopsticks to his mouth and slurped up more ramen. He looked smug. This must be a thing he’s proud of.
“You’re such a child sometimes,” she giggled as she picked up her chopsticks.
Bakugou gave her a scowl. “Harh?”
“You’re so competitive about even the smallest things,” she replied.
“You want to die, Uraraka?”
She laughed. “No. It’s just a casual observation. It’s fun because you hardly show anything but anger.“
Bakugou huffed. “Fuck off.”
“Hey! Bakugou!”
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Bakugou spun around with a mean scowl on his face. Everyone in the vicinity of the school gate froze, silently praying for the poor soul who was on the receiving end of the glare.
However, there didn’t seem to be a need for prayers for that person was completely unfazed. “I’ve got some vouchers this time. We used yours last time so I figured it’d be nice if I invited you,” Uraraka said, grinning.
Bakugou raised a brow at her. “The fuck? Go by yourself.”
“Well, it’s a one-for-one,” she replied. “I can’t eat that much.”
He rolled his eyes. “Go ask Deku or whatever,” he yelled, turning to leave.
With a knowing smile on her lips, Uraraka skipped in front of Bakugou. “Oh, I don’t know... Deku probably wouldn’t like to eat there since the offer is only for an extra large tom yum noodle. Surely, you’re up for the challenge.”
Anyone near the duo would hear the popping noises of barely restrained explosions. “Fuck yeah! Bring it on, round face.”
44 notes · View notes