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nakunakunomi · 3 years

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Chapter I - The Seed

Chapter Summary: Sometimes love happens spontaneously. Sometimes it needs some time to grow. Yours has been growing for a while now.

Chapter warnings: mentions of child neglect (vaguely), slight manga spoilers (if you squint)

Word count: 1.7k

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Love is very much like a flower. The seed can be planted very early on, and may need some time to grow. And without love, sunlight and patience, a flower may never bloom. The seed of your love was planted when you were only a child.

You weren’t really sure when exactly you saw him for the first time, but you knew he captured your attention right away. You were walking to the store, your very first ‘grown up’ chore. Your mom would give you a little piece of paper with the groceries on it, and let you go get it at the convenience store right next to the apartment where you were living. She’d call the store beforehand to let them know you were coming, and never really worried because nothing could happen within that very short distance. And she was right, nothing ever really happened, and it became your favorite chore. Not necessarily because of the chore itself, but because of the little boy that you would sometimes meet on your way.

He was quiet, usually standing in the hallway, hanging around the same apartment. Your young brain figured out he lived there, but you weren’t sure why he wasn’t always inside his house. You never saw his parents. He captured your attention, because he seemed… off a little. You couldn’t put your finger on it, not at that age, not with you sheltered you had been so far. You knew of heroes and villains but you didn’t know of all the actual evils in the world. You did not know what he was going through.

But you did know that he looked nice, at least in your innocent-minded eyes. And he looked special, with a sharp gaze that seemed directed nowhere in particular and the beautiful wings poking up from behind his back. You wondered if they were soft.

So one day you asked. Well, it had started with you saying ‘Hi’ every time you saw him in the hallway. And eventually, you’d get a ‘Hi’ back every once in a while. You told him your name, he told you his. Sometimes you would say something about what he was wearing, although usually his clothes were pretty plain and not always as pretty or even clean. His wings however, those always looked nice, bright red and sometimes even a little fluffy, that’s when they looked to be at their softest.

Most of the times when you shouted ‘I like your wings’, you didn’t get much of a reply, usually he just briefly redirected his stare at you before looking away again. But you were still young, full of hope and full of resilience that nowadays you wish you still had as much of, and you kept repeating it until you heard him mutter a soft ‘thanks’ in reply. It wasn’t too long before you started walking toward him for the shortest of conversations, you knew that you couldn’t stay away too long or your mom would definitely call the grocery store. And eventually, you asked him to touch his wings. He would always refuse, and you would never give up.

One day he said yes, and it’s the day you remember most vividly. You were almost racing to the store by now whenever you saw that he was out, just so you could talk to him, always keeping an eye on the kiddie wristwatch your mom had given you. “When the big hand points upwards completely, you have to be home or I’ll come looking for you”, she’d say. You had gotten better at keeping an eye on it. You went through the usual ritual, saying hi, getting a greeting back. He seemed to be a little happier to see you lately though, smiling a little whenever he saw you approaching.

“Your wings look fluffy today, can I pet them?”

“Okay, but be careful”

You gasped, and your eyes grew wide with excitement. “Really?”

He just nodded in response, turning a little sideways so you could easily reach out and pet the feathers. They were not as soft as you had hoped, not like the plushies surrounding you in bed every night, but they were soft nonetheless. An interesting kind of soft, like only a feather could have. You were absolutely mesmerized and he seemed to be happy that you were happy.

“Next time I will show you my hero”

You smiled as you ran upstairs with the groceries, just in time to not worry your mom. You were super giddy the next time she asked you to get groceries, but your friend was nowhere to be seen. That in itself wasn’t that unusual, there were multiple times when you didn’t see him, but you were quite disappointed, especially since you felt you really were making friends with him now.

You blinked in confusion, but there was no time for you to ask for an explanation, as you noticed the longer hand of your clock almost pointing to the top of your watch.

“Okay! Promise?”

“Promise!”

The next time you went, he wasn’t there either. Nor was he the next time, or the time after that. You were slowly getting a little worried and sad. But as it goes so often in a little child’s mind, there were only so many things you could worry about and you nearly forgot about the boy with the wings.

Until you saw him on TV.

It was years later, you were training at U.A. making it into the hero course, developing your quirk to do good for this world. Part of your training was also keeping an eye out for all the heroes and their ranks. No matter how much you wanted this world to be fair and easy, there’s only so much you can do by simply being a good hero. The rankings were a whole other thing that came as a nasty side effect of wanting to make it in a world where just being good and strong wasn’t enough to be a hero. You had to stand out in some way.

News of a newcomer not from U.A. spread so fast, especially since he was rising up in the rankings at an unseen pace, especially for his age, making him the youngest hero so high up. He was incredibly popular: campaign ads, interviews, magazines… Not surprisingly so, he was not only a talented hero, he was very handsome to boot, with hoards of fans already collecting merch as if their lives depended on it.

To the whole world, he was known as pro hero number three, only behind Endeavor and the one and only All Might, Wing Hero Hawks. But to you, he was the little boy from the hallway that once was ever present in your mind, one of your first friends that you lost before the friendship could even be properly cultivated. And now that his image was hard to avoid, his presence was back in your thoughts, more pertinacious than before.

You were drawn to him the same way many of his fans were, but besides awe and admiration, there was another feeling present whenever you heard his name or saw another picture appear on the billboards you passed on your way to school. It was small still, this feeling, and unidentifiable, at least for now. All you knew was that there was an additional motivational fire burning within you now. You were certain you wanted to intern under him, you wanted some way to be able to talk to him. Just a few moments, to see if he would remember. Just a few moments, to maybe be able to put a finger on what you were feeling, maybe it was a desire for closure. You realized these were all superficial and stupid reasons, but as long as it got you training to intern at the number three’s agency, there was really nothing lost.

Realistically speaking, you knew the chances were small he’d take you on. There weren’t even that many sidekicks at his agency, and you were pretty sure he’d need someone to keep up with him, which was nearly impossible seeing as he maxed out in almost all possible fields. He was the number three for a reason after all.

You had a tactic though. Half of the plan being very obvious: train until you couldn’t anymore. Get high grades, develop your quirk, max out your physical strength, study evacuation techniques, be an overall great student. You had to make sure your potential was spotted by many heroes on occasions such as the sports festival. You had to make sure your teachers noticed you.

The other half of your plan was working on getting his interest. Wear his merch around whenever there’s a U.A. moment broadcast that didn’t require you to wear your uniform, learn all there is to learn about him and his agency (a surprisingly easy task, as there was very little known about him actually). And then finally: work on advertising yourself. You wrote multiple letters to his agency, none of them demanding or desperate in tone, but continuously offering yourself as a valuable candidate for internships and training days, even when you would get no replies at all.

It took you until your last year at UA to finally get some sort of an answer. By that time, you had already sent so many letters, that at this point, you weren’t even expecting anything anymore, but it was more of a habit. A promise to yourself that you would try, at least until you had graduated and found another agency to work at. So when professor Aizawa pulled you aside at the start of your year to tell you that all your internships and training days were already secured in Hawks’ agency if you’d agree on it, you over-enthusiastically said yes about three hundred times. Aizawa passed on the information you needed, and you thanked him profusely before heading to your next class, the map of information nearly burning up in your hand.

One step closer to the boy in the hallway. One step closer to your hero dream. No matter the outcome, you could only win.

Tag list: @pinkhatlizzy @franko-pop-3000 @silenceofthecookies

#bnha #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks #mha x reader #mha #takami keigo #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #hanahaki disease #multichapter writing #multichapter reader insert #hawks fluff #hawks angst #intro #first chapter

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wings-flames-and-thirium · 4 years

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Cold Mornings and Hot Baths | Fatgum (Taishiro Toyomitsu)

A/N: This was requested by an anon some time ago. Thank you for requesting, I had fun writing it! I love me some domestic and steamy Fatgum! Ignore potential typos (and the fact that I accidentally deleted your ask after trying to upload this once already and failed) pls, I finished this at 6 in the morning. Still hope you'll enjoy it!

Warnings: nsfw, handjobs

The hot water hit your fingers and you smiled to yourself "Just perfect".

You passed by the living room, only to see your husband in the same position as he was since you two got up and out of bed. He was laying on the couch, hands buried in the oversized orange sweater he was wearing, blonde locks falling messily from around his forehead and his eyes staring bluntly at the TV in front of him. His chest rose up and down in steady breaths while he rested, his eyes barely open as he continued to stare. You could definitely see how tired and drained Fatgum was. Taishiro had to deal with some tough villains in the area lately, the frequent and often intense fights draining a lot of his energy. He was glad to take a break for just this one day to restore his energy and enjoy some time with you. Although you were used to seeing him in his frailer form, it still made your heart sink a little when you realized how much his job took a toll on him. However, that’s the reason why you decided to make this day worthwhile and spoil him as much as you could. After you two already spent the cold winter morning cuddled up warmly in your shared bed, you decided to give him a little special treatment to relax properly and prepare a hot bubble bath for him.

"Honey, would you come here for a moment?" you shouted out to your husband who was still on the couch. You quickly discarded the bathrobe, the only piece covering your body, when you heard his footsteps approaching.

"What is it, dear- Oh my....," his jaw hit the floor when he peeked into the bathroom, your naked body greeting him. You smiled warmly, taking your time to turn around so he could take in your body. Also taking the initial surprise moment to your advantage, you scooted closer to your husband, pulling down the zipper of his favourite orange hoodie. You moved your hands across his muscled chest, leaning up to reach and to let the hoodie pass down his broad shoulders. Taishiro gasped when your breasts brushed over his exposed chest, not daring to move.

You smile up at him once again, keeping the eye contact when you moved down, kissing his stomach and belly button before pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion

"You've worked so hard over the past days, honey," you took his hand and guided him towards the filled bathtub. Taishiro was still a bit lost for words but didn't need any more instructions. He stepped into the hot, bubble-filled tub, sighing deeply when the hot water reached his sore muscles. You wasted no time climbing into the bathtub with him, sitting down behind him, and tugging on his shoulders, signaling him to lean back, which he did without hesitation. It was a bit of an odd position as always, given that he was a lot larger than you, even in his frailer form, but he still enjoyed the way his chest pressed up against his back. And with you pressing delicate kisses along his shoulders and back, he couldn't help but let out another long sigh. You took this as an initiative to move further and used your hands to slowly start massaging his muscles.

Your hands felt so perfect against his skin and Taishiro couldn’t help but let out a low moan as your hands trailed down further to move along his outer thighs. He let his head fall back against your shoulder as you rubbed his belly in slow circles, resuming to place kisses over his face.

“It’s only fair, to give my hard-working husband the treatment he deserves,” you whispered as you continued your pets and strokes You could feel the last tension of his body wash away with how your hands roamed, the hot water only adding to this relaxing sensation. One of your hands moved underwater, from his belly down to his groin, fingers brushing lightly against his pubic hair and Taishiro sucked in a breath as your hand moved down even further down.

“Sweetie, you’re too good to me, sometimes,” Taishiro sighed and squinted as he could feel your fingers dancing along his growing erection.

It has been too long since the two of you could enjoy something like this and he was savouring every second of it. He had been too damn worked up from his job lately, but this. This is was just what he needed.

Despite the water being so hot against his skin, Taishiro couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down his spine when he felt your hand wrap around his length as you purred into his ear, “Let me help you relax properly, honey”

Holding your husband close with one arm wrapped around his belly, you started to move your other slowly, dragging out each stroke teasingly, but sweet, with just the right amount of pressure. You haven’t been able to touch each other in such an intimate manner in a while, which made the experience even more wonderful for Taishiro. He tilted his head to kiss you, moaning into your plush lips when your hand moved a little faster, your thumb swiping over the sensitive head of his cock.

“Ah, fuck… I- I really needed that, sweetie,” he moaned, moving his lips back to kiss you even deeper, tongue darting out to lick along your bottom lip. You hummed in approval, granting him access to explore your mouth. Your tongues gilded against one other, hot puffs of hair escaping your lips in between steamy kisses. The grip on his length never once faltered, but you made sure to alter the speed from time to time, making it as enjoyable for your husband as possible within the tight space of the bathtub.

Watching him bucking his hips up into your touch while more moans fell from his lips was enough though to know that he enjoyed this just as much as you did. The water began to sway. Slowly at first, but then higher and faster, threatening to spill over the edge of the bathtub, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. Your lips moved from his face back down to his shoulder, nibbling along his skin as your thumb swept back up over his head, drawing a particular low growl out of his throat.

Taishiro’s mind was spinning. The sensation of the hot water paired with your body against his, your soft boobs rubbing up and down his sore back and your skilled hand stroking his cock at the most pleasurable pace. His mouth hung open and his eyes were closed, giving himself completely into the hot bliss that engulfed his entire body. Your movements kept drawing moan after moan from him, your hand speeding up a little more, when your mouth bit down on his neck.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetie” Taishiro wailed, his hips meeting your the movements of your hand now, desperately trying to create more friction.

Soon, Fatgum could feel a familiar warmth pooling in his lower abdomen and he gritted his teeth, trying to drag out his inevitable high just a little longer. He didn’t want this moment to end, but your hand made it challenging.

“Shit, keep goin’, sweetie, please, I’m almost there,” he cried out and you stroked up and down his length at an even more elevated and precise pace. He gasped as your other hand, which had been loosely wrapped around his belly, suddenly moved down to grab his balls, fondling them. A well timed stroke upwards combined with another swipe over the swollen head of his leaking cock, had Taishiro finally break. His back arched off your chest as he released into the water with a loud cry.

He slumped back against your chest after coming down from his incredibly intense high. He closed his eyes as his hot body tried to calm down. You moved your hands back up from underneath the water to massage his back and shoulders once again, taking one hand to also massage his scalp with as you watched your husband’s breathing slowly steady.

Taishiro broke the silence with moving up and turning around. He was now laying back down into the water with his belly, bruring his head cuddling into your chest.

“That was amazing. Thank you, sweetie. You definitely did help me relax,” he chuckled as he pushed himself up on his arms to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

Some of the water had spilled over the bath-tub, soaking the towels placed underneath, but you both honestly didn’t care. Not with Taishiro’s hands trailing lazily down your body before leaning his head on your chest again, hovering just above the water to snuggle into you comfortably.

#bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fatgum #fatgum x reader #fatgum smut

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

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100% Professional (Final)

MASTERLIST

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A few weeks later

"Hey hey, I'm not ready to say good night to you yet." Wade wound his arm around Peter's waist and tugged him closer. "Where are you going?"

"I've still got a piece to write for work tomorrow." Peter said reluctantly, and tossed his taco trash away. "And you've got that thing with Sam at like six am, don't you?"

"I could definitely reschedule a fun run with Sam if you wanted to stay." Wade countered. "Especially since there's nothing fun about running at all. Whoever coined that phrase should be given a swift roundhouse kick to the face."

"It's important that you keep appointments with people who are a positive influence in your life." Peter recited, clearly quoting the self help book Wade kept on the living room coffee table. "And I know I'm delightful? But Sam is a much better positive influence in your life."

"Pete--"

"Last night we ate Cheez Whiz until you coughed it out your nose." Peter pointed out. "And the day before that we watched six straight hours of reality TV because neither one of us could find the remote. Could have just turned the TV off, but nope. We watched six solid hours of reality dating."

"Okay, yeah that was pretty bad."

"We sucked helium and sang Christmas songs until we gave ourselves migraines."

"Also bad."

"Face it." Peter smoothed his hands down Wade's arms, lingering over the bulge of the former soldiers biceps. "We make the worst decisions together so you should definitely spend the morning with Sam, who consistently is encouraging you to get better and is always glad to see you at group."

"I sort of hate that you're all supportive and encouraging me to better my self." Wade grumbled half heartedly. "You were much more fun when you were just rubbing me with oil and trying to catch a peek at my dick."

"I resent the implication that I still don't try to look at your dick." Peter retorted and Wade only laughed. "Definitely fun run with Sam and then call me after wards. I'll work on your calves since I'm sure you're gonna be sore."

"...really?" Wade hesitated. "You'd work on me?"

"Why not?" If Peter noticed he was all but glommed onto Wade's chest, he didn't comment. If anything the pretty brunette only scooted closer, tangling their feet and hooking his fingers into Wade's belt. "If you're hurting, I'm gonna help you. I'm a trained professional, remember?"

"I vaguely remember you being something like a massage therapist." Wade agreed. "Even though our marshmallow eating contest last week gave me a few doubts."

"That's fair." Peter said immediately. "I wouldn't trust a professional who shouted chubby bunny with eleven marshmallows in their mouth either. That's perfectly valid. In fact, if you hadn't doubted my professional status after that I'd worry about you. And also--"

"I fired my massage therapist last week." Wade interrupted, and Peter went very still.

"What? Why?"

"Because she's not you?" Wade asked slowly. "Is that an okay reason?"

"It's not a real reason." Peter pointed out, but he didn't pull away. "Obviously she's not me, lots of people aren't me. But why would that matter? We pretty much decided that we could have a working relationship or a friendship but not both, right? So you got another therapist and we-- we are friends."

"Is that what this is?" Wade took a chance and drew his fingers through Peter's hair, down to fit his palm to the back of Peter's neck and rub circles over his pulse. "Friendship?"

"Well yeah." Peter shivered, leaning his head back into Wade's palm. "Right? Friendship. We hang out and we laugh and we do stupid things together when we're drunk. We've sort of moved on into holding hands and sure this hug is about eight minutes too long but--"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please God, kiss me." Peter stood up on his toes and met Wade halfway, their mouths crashing together in the sort of kiss that was months and months and months over due, the sort of kiss that belonged in movies with dramatic storms and soaring musical scores, the kind that left two people gasping and melting, torn between undressing each other right there and maybe just wanting to linger in the innocence of this particular first.

"Wade." Peter whispered when they finally parted. "Oh my god."

"Yeah." Wade leaned back into dot a kiss to Peter's cheek, to brush his lips over the line of Peter's jaw. "Yeah, I know. It's about time, right?"

"I think um--" Peter was blushing, biting at his lip and trying to inch closer so Wade would keep kissing him. "I think it was right about perfect timing for us, right? Seems like a long time coming, but we did it the right way?"

"If you say so." Wade cleared his throat. "Kinda wish our first kiss wasn't in front of the taco stand though. Seems like I could have been more romantic than that."

Peter tried and failed to stifle a chuckle. "Tacos are super romantic, what are you talking about?"

"Tacos are romantic, you're absolutely right." Wade dug in his pocket so he could actually pay the very patient taco guy. "We should eat and--"

He shut up when Peter kissed him again. "Pete?"

"I'm not ready to say goodnight to you." Peter said slowly, clearly. "But it's important that you do this run with Sam, and it's important that I get to work, so I'm going to go. You'll call me tomorrow so I can work on you when you're sore?"

"I'll call you tomorrow." Wade nodded, leaning in to press their foreheads together. "For a purely professional massage. Definitely. Definitely will not try and grope my massage therapist."

"You grope me and I'll charge you double." Peter threatened and Wade retorted, "What if it's just a little grope? I'll call it a tip."

"I feel like your version of giving me a tip and my version of you giving me a tip are pretty different."

"I dunno Pete, you've been horny for me forever. Pretty sure we're talking about the same tip."

"Wade-"

"SOMEONE TAKE YOUR CHANGE!" The taco guy shouted, obviously having overheard way more than he wanted, obviously fed up with Wade and Peter's weekly taco stop/flirty episode.

"Keep the change." Wade waved the guy off. "Call it a tip. "

Peter choked on his food as he tried not to laugh and Wade stole just one more kiss.

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Please call me tomorrow." Peter's smile was hopeful, his eyes sparkling. "I can't wait."

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

"How was the fun run?" Soleus. Peroneal Muscle Group. Gastrocnemius. Peter mentally recited the names of calf muscles as he worked at Wade's legs, desperately trying to distract himself from the fact that his friend-- boyfriend?-- was almost naked under the sheets. "Feel like a champ for finishing?"

"I feel like hog tying Sam and beating him with a broom for making me do it." Wade grunted as Peter felt over a particularly tight spot. "He gave me this grand speech about how exercise is just as crucial to healing as therapy and mental exercises are, then he dragged my ass out there in the rain and forced me to watch him run in booty shorts. How is that healing?"

"I feel like you probably didn't have to stare at him in booty shorts." Peter countered. Peroneal longus. Extensor digitorum longus. Achilles. "There had to be a thousand other places for you to look besides Sam's ass, right?"

"The man's got a nice ass." Wade admitted and Peter grinned. "It was nice to finish, I guess. I've hit all these milestones in therapy but those are just check marks on paper. It felt good to check something off my list that not even healthy people do, you know? Most people will never run a marathon, and I did that today."

"Yeah, I'm one of those people that will never run a marathon." Peter hesitated for a split second before sliding his hands up past Wade's knee to the back of his thigh. "I'd much rather watch from the sidelines and critique people's forms."

"That seems hilariously judgmental of you." Wade tensed under Peter's fingers, then blew out a deep breath and forced himself to relax. This is a professional massage. "And you better start running because I signed us up for the city run this summer."

"The one in July?" Semimembranosus muscle. Semitendinosus muscle. "That seems... I mean, that's like seven months out. Little far in advance to make plans, don't you think?"

"It's not that far in advance." Wade hedged. "You uh-- you planning on going anywhere, Pete?"

"I'm planning on being exactly here." Peter said softly, almost too softly, and to lighten the moment he added, "Charging you ridiculous amounts of money for hour long massages. I want to buy a car this summer, so this is as good a time as any to mention my rates doubled."

"Doubled, huh?" Wade's laugh was pained as Peter dug his thumbs into a particularly bad knot. "Why do you need a car?"

"I can’t take another month in Ye Olde Drug Makers Den, so I’m finally moving apartments." Biceps femoris muscle. "Unfortunately all the reasonably priced safer neighborhoods will require a sort of crazy commute and it'd be faster to have a car so I don't have to deal with the subway. Plus, Jameson is talking about having me travel, so I could write off the car as a business expense. It'd just be nice to have a choice in my transportation, I guess."

"I got a car you can have." Wade forced out another one of those slow breaths when Peter moved even higher up his leg. "I couldn't drive after my injury but selling it always felt like I was admitting I was too fucked up to function. It's been sitting in storage for a couple years now."

"Yeah? How much you wanna sell it for?" Peter paused again, reminded himself that he was definitely a professional and he could definitely handle seeing Wade mostly naked while kneading at his --gulp-- finely toned ass. They had kissed yesterday and it was fine, it wouldn't have any bearing on the massage today. It was fine. It was fine it was fine it was fine.

Abductor magnus muscle. Gluteus maximus muscle.

Holy shit, that thing was fine.

"How much do you want to sell the car for?" Peter tried so hard to sound casual just then, hoping the conversation would distract from-- from everything.

"You can just have it." Wade shifted on the massage table, digging his fingers into the mat. "Doesn't um-- doesn't make sense for me to-- for me-- whew. Pete, uh maybe we should--"

"You okay?" Peter paused, gave in to an entirely wicked impulse and spread his hands out over Wade's rear. "Is this-- this is weird right? After we kissed? It's weird for me to work on you. Should I stop?"

"No, it feels good." Wade sounded positively strangled. "Feels good after my run and uh-- it's just nice that it's you but we can't-- I definitely can't roll over this time, ya feel me?"

"Shit." Peter leaned over and rested his forehead between Wade's shoulder blades. "Wade, I promise I am actually a professional. I dunno what it is about you that makes it impossible to get through a session without skewing innuendo-ish--" Wade snorted a laugh and Peter smiled a little, leaving a feather soft kiss on Wade's back. "--but let me finish working on you and then maybe we can--"

"Come here." Faster than Peter was ready for, Wade rolled to his side and yanked Peter down for a kiss, crushing their mouths together and grabbing at Peter's side to keep him close.

"Oh my god." Peter abandoned all pretenses of professional and shoved Wade onto his back, clambering up onto the table to straddle Wade's waist and to leave bruising kiss after wonderfully bruising kiss on the soldier's lips. "Wade, please."

"Yeah baby boy, I've got you." Wade's hands were everywhere, dragging down Peter's back and grasping at his rear, digging into Peter's thighs and holding him still so Wade could grind up into him. "I've got you, I've got you, I've got you."

Peter's shirt probably tore as it was yanked off and tossed aside but nobody cared, and Peter cried when Wade surged up to seal his lips over a pink nipple, blunt teeth on sensitive skin making him nearly scream. He got sweet sweet sweet revenge by worrying a bruise onto the curve of Wade's neck, not letting up until Wade was panting and swearing and tearing at his pants.

When Wade groaned in frustration over Peter's skinny jeans, the brunette laughed breathlessly and tried to climb off the table, promising, "Two seconds. Let me get these off and I'll be right back, two seconds and then you can have me."

But alas, the massage table was not meant to hold the combined weight of two grown men, much less too grown men rocking the table back and forth and trying to get nekkid and just as Peter was climbing off to get rid of his jeans--

--the table wobbled--

--and cracked--

--and all four legs shattered--

--and an oiled up and mostly naked Wade dropped right onto the floor, toppling a half in-half out of jeans screeching Peter on top of him.

Peter and Wade stared at each other, at the mess, at the broken table and the splotch of lotion all over the expensive carpet, and just when Peter was gearing up to apologize, Wade collapsed into laughter, full blown side splitting guffaws and after a stunned few seconds, Peter joined him.

It felt good to laugh, good to release all the pent up sexual tension with some giggles, good to put a halt to the out of control moment with some hilarity.

Wade was still wiping tears from his eyes a few moments later as he managed, "Alright, so all those smutty videos where the massage therapist gives a client a royal dicking down on the table? False, eh?"

Peter wheezed for breath, inching across the ruined table to curl into Wade's side, holding onto him as he shook through a few more laughs. "That was terrible, oh my god. I didn't think it would actually break."

"It's alright anyway." Wade hooked an arm around Peter's shoulders and pulled him tight, dropping a quick kiss onto his forehead. "Means we actually have to do this first time right instead of mid massage and in my living room, huh?"

"I dunno." Peter kissed Wade back, wrinkling his nose teasingly. "We did everything else about this funky, might as well have funky first time sex too."

"Funky first time sex." Wade deadpanned. "Be still my romantic heart. At least let me take you out to dinner, baby."

"Tacos." Peter said promptly. "Go get tacos and I'll get this cleaned up and we can do funky first time sex properly."

"Yeah alright." It took all of Wade's self control to peel away from Peter. Months and months they'd waited to get to this point and now they had to clean up broken massage table and try for dinner and--

"Why don't you move in with me?" he blurted before he could stop himself, and Peter's jaw dropped open. "You need a new place, I have a car you can drive and we're halfway in love so it's inevitable anyway. Move in with me."

"...I think it's bold of you to invite me to move in before you know how I am in bed." Peter said slowly. "Um-- what if I'm terrible in the sack? Use teeth when there should be no teeth? What if I’m a total pillow princess and then you have to share your apartment and car with a highly unprofessional massage therapist who gives shitty blow jobs?"

Wade tried to hide a smile. "You give shitty blow jobs, Pete?"

"Well I mean--" Peter shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I guess you'll have to find out, right? No backsies though, whether you like the blowjobs or not, I'll be living here."

"No backsies." Wade rubbed a hand over his bare scalp and nodded as if he wasn't ready to explode with excitement. "You wanna move in with me?"

"I definitely do." Peter's eyes were shining. "But I'm about two seconds from jumping you again because I'm so happy, so go get tacos and get back so we can do this the right way."

"I'll be right back." Wade promised, and ducked down the hallway to find his clothes. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"

"I'll be right here." Peter kicked out of the last leg of his jeans so he was just in his shorts. "Right here. Hurry."

Wade was dressed and out the door, nearly running for the elevator when Peter stuck his head out from the apartment and yelled, "And what do you mean, we're half in love? You better tell me you love me like a real man or the deal's off!"

"No backsies!" Wade yelled back, grinning when he heard Peter laughing. "You're stuck with me now!"

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC!

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

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#ncts fics #spideypool

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crowdvscritic · 3 years

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round up // AUGUST 21

Happy 2nd birthday to these Round Ups! For two years I’ve been making monthly pop culture picks, and they’ve included:

More than 200 movies

32 TV shows and specials, plus 8 different Saturday Night Live Round Ups

27 albums, singles, playlists, and more music picks

13 podcasts

12 books

2 concerts

There have also been articles, events, museums, social media bits, trailers, and a service that helps you find movies across streaming platforms. (Find all of them here.) This month I’m adding a few more, like:

2 podcasts

2 albums

5 vampire movies

A conversation between two GOATs

A very funny dead guy

A terrifying Robert Mitchum performance

Another Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed

Here’s to another year!

August Crowd-Pleasers

1. Jungle Cruise (2021)

Indiana Jones meets Pirates of the Caribbean with a dash of The African Queen. I like all those movies, so sue me, I had a nice time! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

2. Deep Blue Sea (1999)

Genetically-enhanced sharks try to break free of their cages in an ocean research facility, chaos ensues for the characters, and it’s a delight for us. For no intelligent reason, I love movies that make me guess who’s going to get killed off next, so a big dumb shark movie starring L.L. Cool J and Samuel L. Jackson? It’s a particular brand of joy. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 5.5/10

3. Double Feature — Adam Sandler Comedies: 50 First Dates (2004) + Murder Mystery (2019)

Adam Sandler movies are little like IcyHot for the brain—that is, they’re the relaxing kind of mind-numbing. Thanks to a stressful month at work, I watched six Sandler flicks in August—which I don’t necessarily recommend but also don’t regret—and the Netflix original Murder Mystery (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10) was one of the the best of the bunch. It’s a silly spoof of Agatha Christie’s work, and it’s a scenic two-hour European vacay. I also gave 50 First Dates (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10) another try and was pleasantly surprised. Once you get past some of the gross-out humor at the beginning, you’ll find a sweet story all about how we need to keep showing up for the people we love.

4. Double Feature — SNL Comedies: Wayne’s World (1992) + Hot Rod (2007)

My love for Saturday Night Live is more than well-documented, so exactly zero mes were surprised that I loved these flicks from its alums. Wayne’s World (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10) follows up with Wayne and Garth in the basement we first saw on late night. Now they have the opportunity to make it big on TV thanks to a sleazy exec (Rob Lowe). Brian Doyle-Murray and Chris Farley show up, and so do Laverne and Shirley? Hot Rod (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10) follows Rod (Andy Samberg) as he tries to make it big as a stuntman and impress his stepdad (Ian McShane). Will Arnett, Bill Hader, and Chris Parnell show up, and now I can mostly forgive all those boys in high school who quoted this movie non-stop.

5. Weekend at Bernie’s (1989)

If those SNL comedies weren’t enough silliness for you, how about you add some Bernie to your lineup? Andrew McCarthy and Jonathan Silverman are wannabe-yuppies who think they’ve got their career breaks when an exec named Bernie invites them to his vacation home for the weekend. What they don’t know is that Bernie (Terry Kiser) has been laundering money, is connected to the mob, and, is now, um, dead. The right thing would be to call the police, but then we wouldn’t have a 97-minute high-concept comedy, now would we? Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

6. Twilight series (2008-12)

I mostly skipped the Twilight phenomenon at its peak, but I’m so glad I hopped on the train years later—this series of vampire vs. werewolf showdowns are ridiculous. But major kudos to the filmmakers who somehow turned a dump truck of nonsensical gobbledygook and unhealthy teenage relationships into something insanely watchable. Also, major kudos to Billy Burke and his understated, curmudgeonly, sarcastic performance. Bella’s dad is the MVP with the only appropriate responses to all of the nonsense he's forced to participate in and the only tether this franchise has to reality. Be sure to watch with a friend so you have someone else to process this weirdness with. Series Crowd: 8/10 // Series Critic: 5/10

7. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers at The Muny

You know what’s great? Live theater! This month I made my first trip back to the stage at America’s oldest and largest outdoor amphitheater, the Muny in St. Louis. Their productions never disappoint, and these performers reminded me of Howard Keel, Jane Powell, and Russ Tamblyn in the best ways.

8. Wimbledon (2004)

Paul Bettany and Kirsten fall in love at Wimbledon! Frankly, that premise alone should be enough to sell you on this very winning rom-com. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

9. Career Opportunities (1991)

This month’s Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed! Frank Whaley and Jennifer Connelly fall in love while stuck overnight at a Target—which honestly sounds like a dream scenario—and since it’s a John Hughes script, it’s got some heart beneath its thin premise. John Hughes directing would’ve made it better, but there’s enough Hughes in there to catch my heart. Crowd: 7/10 // Critic: 4.5/10

10. First Blood (1982)

Aka Rambo: Part I. Sylvester Stallone is a tough-as-nails Vietnam vet, and Brian Dennehy is the self-righteous sheriff who ticks him off. It digs a bit into PTSD and how we don’t take care of our veterans, but mostly, it’s just Stallone going ape with a knife and explosives. Oddly, also from the same director as Weekend at Bernie’s! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

August Critic Picks

1. TCM’s The Plot Thickens Season 2 (2021)

You know those movies that make you ask, “How on Earth did this get made?” This season of The Plot Thickens, subtitled The Devil’s Candy, is an attempt to answer that question. Pretty much no one thinks 1990’s The Bonfire of the Vanities works as a film—including yours truly—and reporter Julie Salomon documented many of its production troubles leading to the final product. A must-listen for anyone who loves hearing behind-the-scenes stories or just gets a kick out of schadenfreude.

2. Gene and Roger (2021)

Gene and Roger, the summer series on The Big Picture podcast, is an overview and reflection on the work of Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, starting with the launch of their individual careers in the ‘60s through their partnership that lasted into the ‘90s. Another must-listen for movie lovers, especially those who love digging into the history and criticism.

3. Gold-Diggers Sound by Leon Bridges (2021)

Chill vibes and cool groves to transition you from Summer to Autumn.

4. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

Come for the Clint Eastwood, stay for the Ennio Morricone. Actually you can stay for Eastwood, too, because his humor is at his driest, and for Eli Wallach, whose Tuco is an insanely charming cockroach. It’s almost three hours, but this treasure hunt breezes by like a tumbleweed in the wind. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

5. AFI’s Master Class - The Art of Collaboration: Steven Spielberg and John Williams (2011)

Two GOATS talking about making some of the GOATs. They share clips and explain their collaborative process (including on projects like Jaws and Schindler’s List), and they take questions from film students at AFI. I’m only wishing it were 10 hours instead of 1!

6. The Night of the Hunter (1955)

Robert Mitchum’s terrifying preacher elevates this classic into more than just a standard crime thriller. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

7. Respect (2021)

While a few scenes indulge in melodrama, Jennifer Hudson’s killer performance—both in vocals and character work—more than makes up for it. This Aretha Franklin biopic hits the familiar beats, but it makes you feel like you’re in the room listening to Franklin sing , which is really all you want from a movie like this. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8/10

8. Solar Power by Lorde (2021)

At first listen, this minimalist pop record sounds worlds away from the angst of Pure Heroine and the melodrama of Melodrama. At second listen, you realize it’s the Lorde you know and love, just with a Laurel Canyon influence. Carole King even gets a shout!

Also in August…

This month Kyla and I checked out Loveline, a call-in radio show popular during the run of Gilmore Girls. Should our favorite Yale students give up dating OR call into the syndicated radio show Loveline? Should Dr. Drew Pinsky and Adam Carolla give strangers advice OR make fun of them? Oh, and Germany OR Florida? Listen to ep. 107 of SO IT’S A SHOW?

The '40s are coming! Reviews of 1940s Best Picture winners are on their way, and I kicked it off with an overview of the Academy that decade focusing on how they responded to World War II and their new prestigious reputation.

Photo credits: The Muny, The Plot Thickens, Gene and Roger, Leon Bridges, AFI, Lorde. All others IMDb.com.

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umbry-fic · 3 years

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A Palette Full of You (2)

Summary: Glimpses into Colette and Lloyd's lives as they grow up together, learn who they are, and fall in love with each other.

(Written for Colloyd Week 2021)

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Chapter: 2 of 6 Word Count: 4212 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 10/06/2021

Chapter Title: Save the Children!

Chapter Summary: Lloyd and Colette take a break from studying and decide to play a video game. Colette starts to ruminate a little on how she's different from the rest of her classmates...

(Colloyd Week Day 2: Sidequest)

Notes+Warnings: Chapter 2 of my multi-chapter Colloyd week fic! Colette and Lloyd play a bunch of Kameo: Elements of Power. Lloyd is bisexual. This chapter might have a bit of internalised acephobia so beware.

Chapter list Full fic Previous chapter Next chapter

~~~

12-years-old

"There! Over there!" Colette shouted, dropping the Xbox controller onto her lap and gesturing frantically towards a corner of the television screen. In her frantic excitement, she completely forgot that Lloyd was sitting right next to her on the sofa, her elbow banging straight into Lloyd's arm.

Lloyd, startled, pitched to the side and pushed the joystick on his Xbox controller in the same direction.

Major Ruin, who Lloyd had been controlling to charge up a Bolder Rush, executed the move at this exact moment as Lloyd let go of the right trigger.

And so Major Ruin careened right off the edge of the platform, as per the directions Lloyd had just inputted into the game. The tragic end to a glorious adventure. Kameo would never rescue her father from her sister’s evil clutches, for she had fallen to her death from a high height... by complete accident. Or maybe it would be better to class this as incompetence?

Oops.

"Oh, no," they both muttered at the same time, staring with their mouths open in horror. Colette reached out uselessly towards the TV, as if she could reach into the game and stop Major Ruin’s fall.

As if.

The armadillo look-alike Earth elemental (except a lot spikier) continued to fall while flailing their stubby limbs uselessly, eventually hitting the ground with the familiar and resonant "thud", accompanied with the dreaded snapping sound that had populated much of their playtime in the Snow-top Village. The thin and winding ice paths throughout that area had led to many a death from fall damage as they had tried to get their hands on the elemental fruits hidden away among various corners. Now that they were in the Ancient Tower, with its dark, foreboding, narrow stone corridors lit only by the sparest of torches sitting in sconces, where there was only one path forward and they were caged in by walls, Colette thought their falling episodes would be over. It was a bit claustrophobic, really.

It appeared that was not the case. Fall damage was eternal, and it would haunt them always, following them everywhere and showing its face at the most inopportune of moments.

Major Ruin morphed back into Kameo's petite, winged form, collapsing to the ground with a pained groan. Lloyd's side of the screen faded to black before he respawned at the last checkpoint, erasing a full 20 minutes of progress. The Kameo that Colette controlled was now completely alone in the chamber, performing her idle animations as Colette’s controller went untouched. Lloyd dropped his Xbox controller into his lap as well, leaning back against the sofa as he let out a groan of his own.

There was no sound apart from the whirring coming from the Xbox under the TV, the game music, and the "whup-whup" of the blades of the ancient standing fan in the corner of the living room, struggling in its job to blow "cool" air at them and combat the viciously hot weather.

Lloyd had every right to be frustrated with her; she had a tendency to kill him in-game. It wasn't murder, just manslaughter: knocking him off the cliff, setting both of them on fire, or startling him in general. It wasn't just in Kameo. Her clumsiness and butterfingers translated to every genre. No matter the game - Mario, Minecraft, Maplestory - she always found some way to cause a game over.

But he'd never directed any frustration or anger towards her. These are just silly games, he said every time. Much easier to laugh over the mirthful consequences together than get mad. Whenever they had the time to play video games together, the air was filled with nothing but laughter, a few frustrated grumbles from when they were struggling at a particular level, and the occasional rib from Lloyd’s end when she messed up. That's what made it incredibly fun. What the two of them had termed "game-time" never failed to put a smile on their faces.

And it was an effective destresser! It was a great relief to be able to channel all the stress from studying for PSLE into beating up trolls in Kameo. That appeared to be Lloyd's favourite part of the game - racking up combos with his favourite character Pummel Weed. Though she had to say her favourite part of the game so far was watching the cutscenes that played after rescuing the baby elementals from the prisons created by the nefarious shadow trolls. The wacky transformation from adorable blob to full-fledged elemental, complete with the blob sprouting arms and growing claws or shells, was… interesting to witness.

"Sorry," she sheepishly said, still feeling the need to apologise as she patted his hand. "Didn't mean to startle you. It's just that I found the last child!"

"Oh, really? Where?” Lloyd asked eagerly, attention turning back to the TV. “I couldn't see anything. It's all so dark."

"Over there." More calmly this time, Colette pointed out the child encased in a translucent ice crystal, tucked away in a corner of the platform hidden in shadow. She’d forgotten the name of this species, and could only describe them as cuttlefish that had taken human form. What were they were doing so far from the Mountain Falls? Weren't they native to that location? "We need to free them quickly! This is the last child."

“The last - you’ve been keeping count?!” Lloyd asked, voice rising in volume and shock written clearly across his face.

“Yeah! The mother said there were three, and we’ve rescued two. She must have been really worried, or she wouldn’t have begged us to save her children. I want to reunite them as soon as possible!”

"Alright. Ice, huh? It'd be similar to the other crystals we got rid of in the snow area. So just turn into Ash!" Lloyd suggested.

"Oh, you're right! Thanks for the reminder!" Colette opened the transformation wheel with a quick press of a button and proceeded to fumble with the joystick for a full minute while Lloyd slowly crawled his way back up the tower. She kept pushing too far to the right and overshooting Ash's dragon head on the wheel to land on Thermite, before overcorrecting to the left and landing on 40 Below. Frustration slowly piled up until she groaned, burying her head in her lap. This was embarrassing. She couldn't even navigate a simple menu like this, even after months of playing this game. Butterfingers, once again.

"Lloyd, can you open the main menu? I'll just pick Ash from there."

"Nah, we don't need to open Wotnot. Let's give Ortho a break for now," Lloyd replied. She knew that wasn't the real reason. Lloyd just didn’t want to hear from the eccentric wizard trapped within the paperback book that doubled as the main menu. "Here, let me help. But you need to get up first!" She straightened up, still sulking as he smiled at her, looking like he was holding back laughter at her predicament.

Lloyd stretched out his hand and placed his index finger over her thumb, gently guiding her thumb on the joystick so that the selection square landed right on Ash's head. Colette watched as Kameo hunched over and transformed into the red, clawed, scaly dragon that was the fire elemental Ash, tail slowly swaying from side-to-side as his wings flapped.

"You're so good at this..." she muttered, glancing down at her controller where Lloyd's hand was still placed over hers. They were only 12, but his hands were already slightly bigger than hers. He'd gotten his growth spurt in the earlier part of this year and shot up in height; now half a head taller than her. It was a slightly startling change after being the same height for the six years they'd known each other. He would likely only grow taller as time went on. As for herself... Maybe she'd gain another 5 centimetres by the time she was 18, if she was lucky. Given the actual state of her luck, she'd probably stagnate at her current height. Tallness was just not in the cards for her.

Not that she minded. The added height made him rather comfortable to lie on. If he gained just a few more centimetres, his shoulder would be the perfect height to rest her head on… That would make movie nights all the more comfortable.

Plus, the height change was just that. A physical change. Inside, Lloyd was still the same person - the boy who loved playing with Noishe but hated doing his homework, and would do everything in the world to avoid it. He hadn't changed. Not a single bit.

"Don’t sweat it. There are so many things you’re good at too! If it weren’t for your keen eye, I would’ve missed the kid entirely… So don’t be too bothered!” Lloyd gave her hand one squeeze before removing his hand, returning to his quest of returning to Colette's location. "Now, melt the ice!”

Colette did exactly that, leading the lumbering Ash over to the entrapped child and unleashing his fire breath. She watched with bated breath as the ice slowly melted, causing more of the child to be exposed to the air. They had previously used this exact same technique to unearth elemental fruits in the icy caverns filled with those icky bugs that exploded when defeated and obscured the screen with blue juice. It had been exciting then, to stumble upon secrets because of their penchant for exploration. But watching the child slowly be freed, watching their tentacles slowly start to move as they came into contact with warm air, was an entirely different experience, one that filled her with joy.

When was the last time the two of them completed a side objective like this, one that had direct effects on a citizen of this magical world? Casting her mind back informed her that that would be the starting town, when they returned to water the farmer’s crops with Deep Blue.

Now that the last child had been fully freed, all the children went running back to their worried mother, who proceeded to pull them into a giant group hug. Colette dropped her controller, clapping her hands together at such a sweet sight. Lloyd did laugh, then, a chuckle that she could feel rumble through her as well from where their shoulders touched. "What are you so excited about?" he asked.

"We did it! We saved all the children!" she exclaimed, watching the mother pull out one of the large elemental fruit in thanks. "Doesn't that make you happy? That we were able to help someone... That's what makes these side objectives fulfilling, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's just like you to get like this over a video game,” Lloyd replied, watching Kameo hoist the elemental fruit into the air, where it magically shrunk in size to fit in her bag. Colette wondered how Kameo’s bag even worked - how did it store Wotnot and dozens of elemental fruits? It was like a black hole. Just like Noishe's stomach.

“Though..." Lloyd frowned, staring up at the clock that hung on the wall, whose hands indicated that it was 2 pm. "Time’s up. We should get back to revising before Mom gets home from the vet with Noishe."

"Oh, you're right..." That was a downer. Time had flown so fast; their 20 minutes were up already!

The moment had come to return to the dining table and the assessment books that sat open on it. Studying was never fun, but it just had to be math today, and the chapter just had to be nets. Her most hated subject, combined with the topic she hated most. It was a headache all around.

But Lloyd was surprisingly good at nets, and he'd been a great help the whole day. Even if he still hated math with a passion and always got stuck on algebra questions, where it was her turn to assist him. That was why studying together was effective! They could fill in the gaps for each other, and motivate each other to keep going. Just three months left to go until it was all over! They could do this, and they would get through it. Together, just as they would every predicament that came to pass in the future.

"Um, and before you go home today, could you help me with something else?"

"What is it?" Colette asked, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table. Lloyd was staring at the carpet, his hand absent-mindedly pulling at the hem of his singlet, separating the fabric from sweaty skin.

“Ellum’s birthday present,” Lloyd muttered, his voice getting softer with each word he spoke, until she could barely make out the words. “His birthday is in two weeks, and I…”

Ohhh.

They had a habit of telling each other almost everything, for any secret was always safe with the other. So she knew why Lloyd was clamming up. Ellum was his current crush, after all.

“Say no more. Of course I’ll help you! We can do whatever you want!” she replied with enthusiasm. She'd be happy to help.

"Thank you," Lloyd replied, meeting her gaze again with a tiny smile lighting up his face. "Now, let's get back to studying."

They made the short walk to the dining table, taking their seats across from each other. Lloyd's face was already starting to twist into a grimace, resigning himself to another few hours of torture at the hands of the twisted people who made their livelihood setting math questions.

Clearing away the Kit Kat wrappers on her assessment book, she glanced down at a question about nets she'd been working on before the break. Yet not a single word on the page was being absorbed. They were all running away from her.

The downside of Lloyd confiding in her for all of his crushes was that it was a stark reminder that she hadn't had her first one yet. And then, inevitably, her mind would drift further to all the little ways she stood out from her classmates.

It was like everyone around her had changed drastically overnight at some unknown point in time. The jokesters of the class had just started making dirty jokes one day, prompting scandalised glares from the rest of the class but also prompting snickers. She herself didn't get the joke half the time, just laughed to go along with everyone else.

Then there was the shift in daily conversation. Instead of discussing their favourite Pokémon, more often than not the other girls would now discuss in hushed voices while giggling which celebrity was the most attractive. She herself would sit quietly, trying to melt into the wall as she observed without interjecting, half fascinated and half horrified. Weren't they all too young for this?

Things got even more awkward when she was forcibly pulled into the conversation when someone directed a question at her. She had no idea what to say whenever someone showed her a picture of a celebrity and asked her to rate them. The only thing she ever managed to stutter out was that their eyes were a nice colour, and so was their hair. That... was how you judged a person on how attractive they were, right? Everyone else, though, seemed to think she was weird. But how was she supposed to be feeling? No one had ever taught her. It felt like everyone was keeping a secret from her on how these things were supposed to work, then making fun of her for not getting it.

She only got more confused every time something like that happened. All she wanted to do was go back to talking about her favourite cartoons, but that didn't seem to be an option. Lloyd wasn't in the same class as her, so she couldn't even sit with him and ignore everyone else. The only time she could meet up with him during school hours was at recess. She didn't know what Lloyd talked about with the rest of his friends. Maybe the same stuff. But she didn't really care, because, with him, she could just be herself. There was no need for tiring pretence.

All she could do when the girls were in a mood to discuss celebrities again was sit a little outside of their circle, counting down the seconds remaining for class to start while she tried to look as occupied as possible. She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief every time the topic of conversation turned back to something a little easier to understand, like video games.

But surely, someday, she would understand.

She was waiting. For that day. For her to finally catch up to everyone else in the race she hadn’t even known she’d entered until everyone had left her in the dust, still standing with her mouth agape at the starting line. To finally be like everyone else, to be able to fit in seamlessly. But there was no use getting down about it!

She just had to meet The One. Then everything would change, everything would fix itself. That's what happened in all the stories, the shows, the movies, after all.

Because everyone, in the end, learned to feel the same way, right?

~~~

19-years-old

"Right! I think that’s enough for now.” Colette’s voice shattered the serenity of her room from where she was sitting on the bed with her laptop balanced in her lap, cutting through the sleepy fog that was starting to fill Lloyd’s head. The peaceful Ghibli tunes that had been filling the room cut off abruptly as she shut her laptop screen, reaching a hand up to undo her messy hair bun.

Lloyd yawned, rubbing his eyes and hoping that would make his eyelids feel less heavy. Pushing himself up from his belly-down position on the bed, he caught one last glance of the back of Colette's neck before her hair covered it again. Doing prep for uni was not the most exciting way to pass the afternoon, and it certainly wasn't normal fare for a date. But it had to be done, so they might as well do it together, as they did all things.

Though he'd gotten distracted and started scrolling through YouTube about an hour ago.

"Are you going to change out of pyjamas?” Lloyd asked, stretching, his shirt hiking up slightly. He’d taken the lift down the three floors that separated his apartment and hers in the old HDB block that they’d stayed in all their lives, rang the doorbell while staring at the Chinese New Year decorations that were still hung up despite the month now being April, and waited for Colette to open the door… Only to be met with the sight of Colette in her favourite doggie pyjamas, the baby blue button-up ones that covered every inch of her skin. She'd shrugged and said it was cold from the non-stop rain, but he knew the real reason was the lazy post-A-levels haze, that affected him as well. These days, sleeping in until noon was the norm. Or sleeping in until one of his parents came into his bedroom to knock him awake.

“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing a towel and a few articles of clothing from the open wardrobe and heading towards the doorway.

“Alright.”

Lloyd closed his laptop slowly, not wanting a repeat of the time in Secondary 3 he’d shattered the screen because Zelos had sneaked up on him and caught him unawares. He rolled off the bed, making the small trip of barely a few steps to the study table, passing the various objects Colette had up on the walls - the Disney posters she’d gotten ages ago, and the random stickers she’d amassed over the years from school club sales and donations - and the bay window filled to the brim with cute and huggable soft toys, a familiar Siberian Husky that showed the signs of being well-loved sitting atop the pile.

Lying on the study table was Colette’s Nintendo Switch, plugged into a socket to charge. Right next to it was a jar holding paintbrushes of all sizes, all of them as clean of paint as possible, for he knew Colette took extremely good care of her art supplies. The sketchbook no one was allowed to peek into was sticking out of the table’s drawer, half-used pads of foolscap and sheets of paper with pencils rolling in them visible within. Files that he’d nearly kicked, containing lecture notes and worksheets, were shoved into messy piles under the table, unneeded after the conclusion of examinations but having no convenient place to be stored. The tiny shelf sitting on the table still had her Junior College badge housed on one of the layers, silver in colour and reflecting the light from the windows, despite her having no use for it ever since they had graduated in November. (Perhaps she liked looking at it? She was something of a magpie sometimes.) He could spot a familiar conch shell, placed among other knick-knacks, mostly birthday presents.

Picking up the handheld (with its lime green and cyan JoyCons firmly attached), he unplugged the charger and watched the screen light up - and frowned at what it showed him.

"Hey, Colette!" he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. He hoped he could catch her before she entered the bathroom. Uncle Frank was working in the master bedroom no more than five metres away and had been nothing less than incredibly nice, as he always was, providing tons of refreshments and snacks. Lloyd would like to prevent a shouting relay if possible.

If Colette had been walking, she shouldn't have reached the bathroom yet...

The fast pitter-patter of bare feet against the floor informed him that he was right. "What is it, Lloyd?" Colette's head poked its way into the doorframe, her golden hair reaching down towards the floor, her blue eyes wide and questioning.

"You left Animal Crossing on," he answered, waving the Switch in the air.

Her eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh. You know what to do, right?"

Control the playable character and put her to sleep, then save the game. He'd done it before.

"Yeah, but, I was thinking... I haven't taken a walk on your island since last year. How about I take another tour while you're in the bathroom? If you're okay with it, of course."

"Oh, sure! I trust you." Colette smiled sweetly, turning to leave before pausing and turning back. "But remember -"

"- remember not to step on the flowers." Lloyd finished her sentence easily, stating that fact very seriously. He knew about Colette's concerns about her precious flowers, which she’d spent hours arranging around her little island until they were in just the right spot - fields of rainbows to welcome any guests and guide them around. He hadn't known that the stems of the flowers could break from being trampled multiple times when he first explored her quaint world - the fictional flowers were just as fragile as their real-life counterparts. He’d kept that in mind ever since, adding it to the many rules to follow to ensure no harm came to all the hard work Colette had put in to make her island perfect.

"Yep. Um…” Colette wrung her hands together, bowing her head so her hair formed a veil over her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a step towards her.

“No, nothing’s wrong!” Colette hurriedly replied, lifting her head again. She screwed her eyes shut, hands clenching into fists. “I - uh, just wanted to say… I love you!”

The last three words came out in a shout, so quick that he almost didn’t catch them.

Lloyd froze, trying to process what he’d just heard - and before he could reply, Colette was already gone, having fled down the corridor and out of sight.

He slowly shut his mouth, which he hadn’t even realised was open.

This was the first time she’d said those coveted three words since they'd started dating. Her voice had been dripping with uncertainty, her posture betraying her shyness, but no matter how contradictory, she’d said it with sincerity, with all her heart. And even though he didn't need to hear them from her to know she loved him, for it was actions that counted, and certainly didn't need to hear them from her for him to love her, it still made him smile, his whole soul filled with a light warmth.

They’d travelled such a long way from all the checkpoints in life that they'd passed together. They still had a long way to go, but they’d do it together. As they always had.

"I love you too, silly," he said into empty space, knowing Colette couldn't hear him but wanting to say it anyway.

Lloyd unlocked the Switch screen, staring down at Colette's intricate creation. Flowers filled the screen, black, grey, white, purple, that he found familiar but couldn't put a name to. Oh, well. He would just tour the island and check out any new changes while he walked to the living room and waited for Colette to come back. Maybe he'd visit the town centre as well.

The most vital question to be answered was... Had Colette gotten those froggy chairs that she wanted for the townspeople?

~~~

Next chapter

#fanfiction #multi chapter #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #colloydweek2021 #day 2: sidequest #tales of symphonia

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teamhook · 3 years

Photo

|AO3|

|FFN|

I want to thank @captainswanmoviemarathon and Discord. My co-writer @revanmeetra87

I want to also thank @ultraluckycatnd for Beta-ing thiis thing for us.

Thursday

Jefferson's broken leg was on a sling. His arm was in a cast. He wasn't in the best condition but he knew if he didn't get Killian back home he would be worse off. He would disappear. The TV kept reminding him that he needed to get out of the hospital ASAP. There were reports the elevators had either stopped working completely or malfunctioning. He had firsthand experience that is why he is in a hospital bed and not at home preparing his Nobel Prize speech. He had tried to charm the nurse to let him leave the hospital but failed miserably. Nurse Ratched told him he had to be released by Doctor Hyde. Jefferson didn't realize that she had come in to check on him earlier and overheard his entire conversation with Emma. She was concerned that he was crazy and suicidal.

Emma was getting ready for her day at work. The sudden ring of the fire alarm startled her. She could hear her neighbors yelling and Cat's frantic barks. She decided to check it out.

Killian had attempted to make breakfast and chaos had erupted, the fire alarm blared, smoke filled the apartment. Cat's barking got louder. As Emma entered she yelled, "Cat shut up!" She turned off the alarm, and opened the window to air out the apartment.

Killian glared. "That thing is a bloody hazard."

"It's just a toaster!" She glared back at Killian.

"That thing does not produce toast! One insertion only produces warm bread and two insertions produce charcoal!" he yelled.

Emma rolled her eyes, this man was a drama queen. "It's just a toaster." She repeats annoyedly.

Killian was pacing back and forth ranting, "You would think that when the General of Electric built the bloody thing he would test it, for him to take pride in his creations instead of just foisting them on the public without warning!"

"You know what, no one cares if they have to insert the toast twice. You know why? Because we all insert it twice!"

He took a step forward, he looked like a hunter going after its prey. He didn't stop until they were toe to toe. "Not where I come from!"

For a second Emma felt a rush, then she squared her shoulders. "Oh no, of course not because where you come from, toast is the result of reflection and study."

"Aye, you mock me, but perhaps one day, when you're awoken from a pleasurable slumber to the scent of a warm brioche smothered in marmalade and fresh creamery butter you'll understand that life is not solely comprised of tasks, but tastes."

Emma's smile widened. "Say that again."

Killian was baffled at her sudden change in demeanor. "Pardon me?"

"Nevermind, you'll be perfect." She looked him up and down. "Good, you're dressed. Come on, you're coming with me."

Killian followed her without question.

Emma and Killian arrived at her work, but not without some stares directed at Killian's wardrobe.

Emma had called Mary Margaret to meet them at the door. Just as requested, Mary Margaret was waiting for them. She greeted them as soon as they walked inside. "Emma, we've been waiting for you. We had-" She looked at the list, "five read so far-"

Emma shook her head. "Mary Margaret, meet Killian. Please take him to the greenroom; I want him to read." Mary Margaret smiled at Killian and nodded.

"Killian, this is Mary Margaret. Go with her and she will explain everything."

Killian and Mary Margaret disappeared down the hall.

Emma walked to the control room. Her boss was chatting up the client, so she went over to the monitors. There were women smiling and batting their lashes as they gazed into the screen with Killian on it.

The client, Mr. Spencer, was frustrated and finally said, "Walsh, I don't have time for this."

Emma responded, "Mr. Spencer, let's look at this last one."

Walsh Oz shakes his head. "Emma, the client said he wants to stop."

"Walsh, trust me, this is the one," Emma said with confidence.

"What is he wearing?" Walsh scrunched up his nose. "He looks like the Quaker Oats guy."

"Well, it doesn't really matter what you think. What really matters is what the ladies think. They love him. To them he is a dream. He's honest, courteous, handsome; a true gentleman. He stands up when you walk in a room. He brings you brioche in bed. If you eat his margarine, maybe your hips will shrink."

In the greenroom, Killian fidgeted under the scrutiny of the director's eyes.

"Mr. Duke, do you see that mark on the floor?"

Killian nodded.

"You need to stand on that tape line," the director said. "Okay, everyone quiet! And action!"

Killian stayed quiet with the rest of the room.

The director stared at him and rolled his eyes. "Mr. Duke, this is the part when you start talking."

Killian turned his gaze to the monitor and with a raised eyebrow, his blue eyes twinkled under the light. "Fresh creamery butter. Is there anything more comforting? I say there is. You'll agree once you sample fat-free Farmer's Bounty with the genuine essence of creamery butter in every bite. You shall receive butter's splendid flavour in your mouth without adding to the luxury of your waistline."

Mr. Spencer laughed boisterously. "Where do I sign?"

Walsh leaned in to whisper in Emma's ear. "Where did you find him?"

Emma took a step away. "Oh, he lives in my building."

Killian waited patiently by the door while Emma gave Mary Margaret some last minute instructions.

Walsh Oz walked out of the stairwell. He smirked as he noticed Emma was still in the building. "What's the deal with the elevators?" he asked no one in particular. He slowly approached her from behind, and smelled her hair. She stiffened. "Emma, we have so much to discuss over dinner tonight."

Oh yeah, Emma though. I'd forgotten about that. She tried to smile. "Yes, we do. I look forward to it."

Killian's jaw clenched at the display of power abuse and the obvious discomfort it caused Emma. Walsh grinned as Emma walked up to Killian so they could leave. "Nice job, Mr. Margarine," Walsh said as the glass doors closed behind them.

Once they're outside, Emma turned to Killian with a bright smile. She started dancing.

Amused, Killian smiled. "You look pleased."

"Killian, you did an amazing job in there! You are going to be famous!"

Killian simply smiled. "I take it you're dining with that man this evening?"

Emma's smile disappeared. "Yes, he's my boss, Walsh."

"Do you require a chaperone? His intentions are obvious," Killian asked.

"I'm alone with you, do I need a chaperone?" Emma rolled her eyes.

"Emma, we're not courting but if we were, as a man of honor, I would inform you of my intentions in writing."

"I don't need saving. No one saves me but me. Don't worry about it," Emma said, slightly annoyed.

Emma walked in front of him. Killian could tell she was miffed at him, so he kept a small distance from her. A horse carriage caught his eye. He patted the horse and turned to Emma. "How about we take one of these?"

She shook her head no. "Those are for tourists."

Killian smiled at the kind old man. "I'm sorry sir, she's not interested."

The man kindly grinned back. "No worries."

Emma raised her hand, and Killian watched her until one of the powered carriages - cars, he remembered - screeched to a halt at their side. It is bright yellow with some black trim, just like the one they used as transport earlier, but it appeared to have a different coachman.

"All right," Emma said as she opened the car door, "We're probably going to need a bank account number and possibly a birth certificate from you before we start filming. Legality and all. So if you could just drop the 'back in time' act for a few minutes and track them down for m-"

From behind them, a man in a billed cap darted forward and jerked Emma's reticule from her hands, then rushed across the street.

"Hey!" Emma shouted, enraged. "That's my purse!"

Emma took flight after the scumbag thief. "Hey asshole! That's my bag! I'm gonna get you, you ass!" She chased after him while wearing the most uncomfortable shoes. He was fast, but she was not about to give up.

She stopped for a brief second to catch her breath. She doesn't want to lose him and was about to restart her chase once more when she heard galloping hooves which confused her. She then heard her name being called out. That's when she noticed him. It was Killian riding a horse and he was fast approaching her.

"Emma, give me your hand," Killian instructed once he reached her.

She gave him her hand and he easily pulled her on the horse as they broke into full gallop in pursuit of the thief.

Emma held on to Killian tight as he maneuvered the animal. The chase didn't last long. They cornered the lowlife rapidly. "I warn you, scoundrel. You stand no chance. When you run, I shall ride and when you stop, the steel of this strap will be lodged in your brain."

The thief had nowhere to run so he just threw the purse on the ground and took flight. A sudden onslaught of cheering and applause erupted from their previously unknown audience. Killian unmounted to retrieve the purse. Emma simply stared at him as she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

Soon enough, they find themselves back at the corner where the chase began. Killian hooked the horse back up to the carriage as the older man smiled at Emma. "Your boyfriend is a great rider."

Emma smiled. "Yes, he is."

On the ride home, they sat quietly in the carriage.

"Are you for real?" Emma asked.

"Pardon?" Killian responded with a raised brow.

"You're a Duke?" Emma asked.

"I was born a Duke, but I never felt like one," Killian smiled.

Back at the apartment, Emma was getting ready for her dinner with Walsh. She noticed the interactions between Cat and Killian.

Cat was eagerly waiting for her next command from Killian with a wagging tail.

"Stay...Sit. On your feet… Stay… Stay… Good girl," Killian said with a triumphant smile.

Emma can't help as her eyes drifted to Killian. He was a good looking man after all and she wasn't blind. He was distracting, but she had to focus. Dinner equals promotion.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" Emma asked.

David's attention was glued to the game on TV and he mumbled under his breath, "we might meet up with some of my friends."

"Alright, I'm off to dinner then," Emma said.

"Emma, please reconsider my offer to chaperone," Killian begged.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"David, don't you think it's inappropriate-" Killian asked as he helped Emma put on her coat.

"As her brother, I would think my sister would invite me to an audition," David said, outraged.

Emma sighed. "David, you're not exactly margarine material. I'm sorry."

"What!? I can't sell butter? Emma, I'm a great actor. I can sell butter! It's insulting that my own sister has no faith in me."

"Yes, David you are an amazing actor but-"

"Is it the accent? I can do British, Emma. Hell I can be anyone." David continued ranting as Emma turned to Killian. "Good night." She opened the door and lingered for a second before walking away.

Killian gazed after her with a small smile.

Emma and Walsh are seated and he ordered some drinks for them.

After the waiter left, his attention turned to her. "Emma, I have to admit I was nervous for you. When your friend walked in wearing that outfit, saying 'if you eat this margarine your hips will shrink'," Walsh laughed.

Emma smiled. "I was just doing my job."

"He is going to be bigger than Mr. Whipple. You're not sleeping with him are you?" he asked.

"No." She shook her head, yet at the tip of her tongue was a comment about it not being his business. Sometimes she had to remind herself to play nice.

Killian and David decided to go out and meet some friends. "Hey guys, this is Killian," David announced.

Killian smiled as he greeted everyone.

His companions were enthralled by his voice as Killian made a comment about how the best things in life are hidden in the basement of the Louvre.

David excused himself to go to the bar and get drinks where he bumped into a dressed up Mary Margaret out for a girls night out.

Killian noticed the interaction and David's obvious attempt at flirting. so he excused himself to get a closer look. Before he could get closer, though, the connection had been cut short and they returned to their respective parties. Killian stopped Mary Margaret to greet her as David caught their exchange on his way back to the table with the drinks.

Before anyone was aware of it, the evening came to its inevitable end. Killian and David were walking home and David stopped walking. Killian turned to him to see what the problem was as David started talking in a mocking voice...

"Please, allow me to assist you, Abigail."

"Oh, please, allow me to light that for you, Merida."

"What's this? Ah, this is my family crest. It has been in the family for generations."

"What do they have in the basement of the Louvre? The works of Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Chardin, David all surrounded by great coral sponges to absorb the moisture."

Killian was confused by his friend's behavior.

"Not all women are going to swoon over your-" David pointed up and down Killian's form.

Killian studied his friend, trying to understand David's point.

"I was going to get her number but-"

"I believe this is her number," Killian said as he handed his friend the paper. "Mary Margaret has no inkling of your affections. You are a Merry Andrew. Women respond to sincerity. This requires pulling one's tongue from one's cheek. No one wants to be romanced by a baboon. Here's her number and give her a call tomorrow. It's late now and Emma should be home by now."

"Wait, you like her." Realization dawned on David's face. "You really like my sister!"

"David, that's nonsense. You're intoxicated," Killian said as he scratched behind his ear.

"Now who's the Merry-Andrew? You know, Emma is having dinner not long from here. We should go and you can show me the proper way to make a move."

Killian sighed. "Not a move David, an overture. Make your intentions known. Think of pleasing her, not vexing her."

"Fine, no vexing. Come on let's go." David smiled as he pulled Killian in the direction of the restaurant.

Emma cleared her throat. "I have to confess I'm a bit confused. When you mentioned dinner, I was under the impression that we were here to discuss business, a possible promotion even." She sighed. "Dinner is winding down and we have yet to discuss those things. We've talked about your love of La Boheme, and the lovely place you purchased in Sussex."

Walsh gave her his best attempt at a seductive smile. "I don't believe I've ever seen you this flustered Emma, and you haven't even kissed me yet."

Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Right. I like you, Walsh, I do. But I think you would agree that a working relationship- a successful working relationship, requires-"

"Hello, Emma!" David's cheery voice interrupted. "We found you."

Jumping in her seat, Emma turned to see her brother suddenly hovering beside the table. "David?" she asked in disbelief.

"We wanted to say hi," David explained, then proceeded to introduce himself to her boss.

"We?" Emma thought, before realizing Killian was standing at her side.

"Emma," he said in a low, earnest voice as his eyes searched hers. "May I speak to you in private?"

Her mouth fell open. "Seriously? No!"

But Walsh was already inviting the two to pull up seats and join them.

"Where, exactly, did you say it is?" Killian asked Walsh with a cocked eyebrow.

"Sussex, near Ballmour," Walsh said with offhanded superiority.

"Built in the 18th century?" Killian reiterated Walsh's earlier words.

"Early 18th century," Walsh emphasized, with a look at Emma. Killian could almost see the man puffing out his chest with pride. "I have pictures to prove it."

"Well," Killian said, thinking of the empty, rolling green and scattered trees of the area as he knew it. "I do believe you were swindled. I can assure you, as of the late 19th century, there is nothing in the area but farmland."

"You're mistaken," Walsh said immediately. "That's not possible."

Emma quickly jumped in. "He's right; you may be mistaken, Killian!" she hissed. "You don't know-"

Irritation rising due to the fact she was defending the cretin who was so obviously looking to take advantage of her, Killian snapped back. "I was raised there, I do know."

Clearing his throat to break up the discussion, Walsh changed the subject. "Killian, do you enjoy opera?"

Still stinging from Emma's words, Killian plastered a smile on his face. "Oh, indeed. Do you have a favorite?"

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, as if thinking deeply, Walsh finally said, "Boheme. La Boheme. I've seen it 12 times. That's...that is how I learned to speak French."

From the corner of his eye, Killian could see Emma's eyes widen with surprise. Clearly she was impressed, or pretending to be.

Now the irritation grew to ire, and Killian could feel it gnawing at him. He knew he should just let it go, but suddenly he heard himself making a statement in French.

Emma looked to Walsh. "What did he say?"

As Killian had expected, Walsh was sitting there dumbstruck, only managing to croak out a small scoffing noise.

Killian translated the phrase, explaining it was the opening words to Boheme - a duet.

Still slightly stunned, Walsh managed to jump back in and tell the table that Andre sang it to Mimi.

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Killian laughed softly. "Andre?"

Now recovering, Walsh lifted his head. "Yes, I invited Emma to the Met to see it. But she turned me down! Can you believe that, Killian?"

Voice tight, Killian said, "True, it should not be missed by anyone. But perhaps Emma resists on moral grounds."

Emma groaned softly, lowering her head into her hands.

Walsh narrowed his eyes. "How so?"

"Let's get the check!" Emma said hastily, but nobody answered her.

"Well," Killian said, staring at Walsh challengingly, "some feel that to court a woman in one's employ is nothing but a serpentine effort to make a lady fall from grace."

Silence fell over the table, though David was trying to hide his grin.

Finally, Walsh said stiffly, "This guy is charming, Emma. The Duke of Margarine thinks I'm a serpent."

"No, not a serpent," Killian corrected. "Merely a braggart and cad, who knows less French than I, if that is possible." Pushing back his seat, Killian rose and collected his jacket. "And by the way, there is no Andre in Boheme. It's Rodolfo. And though it takes place in France, it is rarely played in French as it is written in Italian. Good night."

Knowing he had made himself a fool, and facing the possibility that Emma would never speak to him again, Killian still turned on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant.

Back at the apartment, Killian and David waited for Emma's return. At the click of the door's lock unlocking, Killian rushed to the door.

Emma opened the door and breezed in, ignoring Killian's plea for a word.

Tag List:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms-deactivated20201107 @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81

#Captain Swan #CSMM #cs ff #Captain Swan Movie Marathon #CSMM20

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Note

hi ash! i know you said before that you're not autistic you just did a lot of research to depict chris realistically- do you have any advice for finding resources on writing disabled characters that isn't like... horribly abelist? im writing someone with an intellectual disability from head trauma and who is nonverbal, and i want to get it right but everything online seems very autism-speaks-y. im autistic and semiverbal but i dont have an id and i want to be realistic and respectful.

I cannot speak with any expertise or sense of speaking from enough experience to be taken as an expert here, and defer as always to those with lived experience with intellectual disability!

But I will give a few more general tips for what to do when looking to write a character with a neurological makeup that doesn’t match your own, as far as what has worked for me with Chris:

1. The story should never be ABOUT their lived experience if you do not also have it. Chris’s story is not about autism, or being autistic. I would never presume to try and write a story like that because, whatever my intentions, I don’t have that knowledge that comes from living it. I would at BEST be taking the experiences of others, their voices. At worst, I would be someone standing with a megaphone shouting over those who deserve to be heard.

Making the disability what the plot revolves around is... generally just not going to be a good idea, in any sense. It’s moments like this where I feel like it’s best to defer to the writers who have lived it, instead.

This is not to say “never write someone different than yourself”, because... I don’t think that’s at all good advice. I think that way lies stunted writers who never push themselves. But it does mean “do not center the story on this thing if you have not experienced it and don’t have that knowledge and understanding”.

2. At the same time, don’t try to be coy or dance around or hide the disability behind purple prose or refuse to acknowledge its reality. Trying to make a disability sound cute, or talk around it instead of speaking it out loud, can be minimizing or shaming in ways that I think it’s easy to miss, if you don’t live with that disability yourself! To me, this touches on one of my hugest pet peeves - characters who are written as having a particular neurodivergence in media, or shown on tv, but they never expressly admit to it or name it.

I know I hesitated with Chris, more because I didn’t feel comfortable giving him a diagnosis until I understood autism better myself, and I do regret how long it took me to embrace that reality about him. I just thought it better to err on the side of researching before I embraced. But I do feel some guilt about waiting so long when I had readers who were identifying so heavily with him, and I kind of knew, but just didn’t feel comfortable owning it yet.

3. On a related note - disabilities in a story that become melodramatic tragedy or turn the disabled character into a ‘redemption story’ for an abled character. This is so, so prevalent in common media and pop culture and once you recognize it for what it is, it’s so hard to not see it in so many places. Think of how many movies, novels, etc contain a disabled character who exists to teach abled people some virtuous lesson about living life to the fullest or ‘what it really means to be human’ blah blah blah blah blah. Don’t do that. Please. (I mean, I kind of feel like you definitely won’t, but I’m just speaking very generally here). If you find the story going in a direction in which abled people learn something from the disabled person, please think very carefully and critically as to why the story is heading in that direction.

Language alone can also be a problem here - think about the difference between openly describing a character moving around their life with a wheelchair vs. calling them “wheelchair-bound” or “reliant on a cane”, when the cane or wheelchair may actually represent freedom to that person - an aid they need, yes, but one that allows them to live with far more agency than they might have had otherwise.

To describe them, especially from their own POV, as “wheelchair-bound”, may ring false to disabled people who understand that the wheelchair isn’t a cage, but a tool that allows that individual person to feel less caged by being able to more freely leave home.

(This varies person to person, just providing an example)

4. Educate. Research. And don’t just do so by asking people with disabilities to tell you their stories. I often express gratitude to the autistic readers, those with ADHD, etc who spoke up about Chris, talked about their own experiences, identified with him, found him very resonating for aspects of their own lives.

These stories, this information, this sharing of their lives was given freely to me, and I’m fucking amazed and grateful for how welcomed Chris was, and how willing readers were to share about themselves when talking about him.

Their willingness to speak about these things is something I treasure. But I absolutely would never believe that a single person owed me the story of their life to make sure I got Chris right. That was my responsibility, you know? I try to keep in mind the concept of ‘emotional labor’. Asking a disabled person to be your resource is asking them to give, and give, and give of themself. They may want to give you that kind of labor, they may not. But I definitely wouldn’t ask it of anyone without understanding it was something they were happy or felt comfortable giving.

Research, on the other hand, is essential. You mentioned things being “autism speaks-y” when trying to research on your own, and oh god, do I feel you. It sucks that autism speaks is the first thing to pop up when trying to research the lives of autistic people - and in my research, I was lucky to already know AS sucks and write them off and anyone who heavily referenced them as not helpful. I can see how someone might not know that, though, and stumble on them and believe they were a helpful resource for writing autism when they... well. Nope.

Try to think about the express disability you are writing for this person, and why, and then go research! I looked up “books on autism recommended by autistic people”, and found some invaluable books, yes, but also papers published online, websites, etc! Each of them vetted and looked over and recommended by autistic people, so I knew I was getting information that came from people with those experiences and that understanding. A good example - I picked up a book on the history of diagnosis and treatment of autism in the United States, mentioned it here, and @redwingedwhump recommended a book called Neurotribes... which turned out to be immensely more helpful, spot-on, and provided some really excellent foundational information I wouldn’t have found in the first book at all.

There’s a lot of information out there on Traumatic Brain Injuries and their lasting effects on individuals who receive them, so I would start there. What you’re describing sounds like a TBI with lasting effects! So I would start your research there, and also look up being nonverbal separately, as well as combining the two. Make sure you’re not just looking at the top links - often paid ads or problematic organizations that are able to pay more for better exposure - but also scanning for blogs, nonprofits, lived-experiences stories, too.

I found a lot of information on the second or even third page of results i would never have seen if I only stuck to the first. Remember the algorithm on search engines is usually showing you what other people are clicking on, not necessarily the best source.

5. This is one you the asker already know, but I want to include it for general reasons: do not ‘dumb down’ the thought processes of a nonverbal or semi-verbal person. I see this in fiction surprisingly often, and I think it’s this sense we have as abled people (’we’ just meaning I’m including myself) that being verbal is required to have a highly complex thought process, and it’s... it’s just fucking not. Speech and though are related but not completely wound around each other, and the ability to verbalize is not the same as the ability to think.

Like I said, I know you know this, asker, but it’s something I see in fiction/media and it drives me up the wall. So I wanted to include it.

6. For the love of God, do not use medical terminology unless you actually know what you’re doing/talking about. Many disabled people or those with serious medical conditions become what amounts to experts on their own diagnoses, because they have to. They have to be experts to receive the care they should be able to rely on. If you constantly fuck up terminology - trust me - it will be noticed, and it will take people out of the story or hurt their ability to suspend disbelief while reading.

There are ways to do medical scenes/conversations with doctors that avoid falling into this problem! I would just be very very careful to heavily research before using any complex terminology.

7. This disabled person does not exist to evoke pity. They are a human - nuanced and multi-layered - living their life, and their story should always, always reflect that. I don’t really have anything else to add to that.

I would love to hear further advice from anyone with anything else to add.

#writing advice #writing

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once-upon-a-scenario · 4 years

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Bakugou/reader: Icarus, Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 Part 5

Katsuki won. You lost. It’s that simple- and at the same time, it isn’t.

Or: a borrowed handkerchief and repressed emotions are a recipe for disaster.

(Do you know that painful feeling when you have a *very* specific idea on how a story is supposed to end but you have no idea what happens leading up to that ending. I suffer :,) forgive me if things stop making sense until the finale, my pacing is a mess and I am very Tired lmao

Fun reading tip: in this series, whenever reader does *not* speak in italics, that is a significant piece of dialogue!

Also note for people who care: the readers in my personal writing will always be neutral in regards to gender and appearance unless you request a specific pronoun/physical trait!

-Eve) _________

It should be over.

In fact, Katsuki decides, vein throbbing in his temple as he tries to concentrate on his sums and very pointedly not look over at you and your window-side seat, it is over. You lost. You were pinned under him for fifteen full seconds. (He counted, and he knows he’s fucking right.)

“Bakugou,” Kirishima says as they walk home together in the afternoon, offering him a bottle of what looks like apple juice. “Lighten up, man! You won fair and square last week, you know. Everyone saw.”

“Who even drinks apple juice anymore? We’re not in fucking preschool,” is Katsuki’s gracious reply as he snatches the bottle. “And of course I won, hair-for-brains. I don’t need to ‘’’lighten up.’’’”

Kirishima shrugs, smiles, and drops the issue. This is one of the reasons why Katsuki tolerates him. Kirishima usually knows when he’s right about things.

(This doesn’t stop idiots like Kaminari from loudly and obnoxiously nudging him the next day at lunch when you pass by their table, “Bakugou, look, you should try and talk-“

You seem to glance towards him for a brief moment, and Katsuki, feeling ready to explode something, turns a silently furious gaze towards Kaminari before pouncing on him. Aizawa-sensei looks pissed about the disruption at mealtime and hauls them both to opposite ends of the cafeteria. Katsuki notices that you’re not watching the commotion, ignoring it in lieu of speaking with Deku at his table.

He seethes. Shitty nerds of a feather flock together, apparently.)

___

And life goes on.

Katsuki has better things to focus on. Like crushing Deku, once and for all, or making sure nobody gets ahead of him in anything else. Cleaning out more dust bunnies from underneath his bed. Picking apart Kaminari and Ashido’s stupid puns. Trying to tutor Kirishima, because Kirishima asked for it- it’s a shitty waste of time but whatever, it’s not his fault if hair-for-brains *wants* to get shouted at for his abysmal grades. Katsuki’s fully willing to oblige. Days turn to weeks, people forget about you and him and your momentary little rivalry (if it could even have been called that).

You’re there, in the background, like you’ve always been. Quiet. Distant. You still get good grades and you still walk home alone. It’s annoying, but Katsuki reminds himself that he won and to start giving a shit now would be losing, plus your grades may be high but they’re not as high as his, so he learns to ignore you. Everything’s fine, actually. Every day, you sit at your desks on opposite sides of the classroom and he sometimes glances at you over his notebook, thinking about how shitty it is of you to wear your uniform in that particular way where it looks just an inch too crumpled around the collar. He wants to reach across the room and straighten it out because goddamn, if it’s not getting on his nerves-

But alright, he reminds himself. He doesn’t give a shit what you choose to do with your life.

Probably the only drawback to this approach is that…you don’t seem to give a shit about the sparring match, either. You just talk a lot with Deku, which is fucking horrible to witness.

Whatever.

___

Later, he contemplates exactly how he ended up in this situation. There are a series of steps to it:

1. He challenges you

2. You walk away

3. You become unable to walk away

4. He wins

5. Everything’s over

6. Until it’s not

Because here he is, walking home on Kirishima’s right. And here you are, walking along on Kirishima’s left. He has no idea how you got here. You’re talking with Kirishima about some shitty new video game, the one that’s had ads for it playing incessantly on the TV since last month. Katsuki grits his teeth.

You’re talking solely to Kirishima, looking only at Kirishima. Blatantly ignoring him.

What the fuck.

He’s about to open his mouth, give you a piece of his mind, because who gave you the goddamn right to lose and then go walking around as if you own the place, he didn’t even know Kirishima was dumb enough to hang out with you, of all people- but then you’re at a crossroads, and you turn, looking apologetic.

“Are you going that way?” Kirishima asks brightly, gesturing to the path branching out to the left. You nod.

See you tomorrow, then, Kirishima- Bakugou.

“Fuck you,” is right on the tip of Katsuki’s tongue, but then he takes another look at you. There’s something weird about your expression- it’d looked pretty damn chipper until a few seconds ago, and it still kind of is, but something’s off, too. He can’t put his finger on what it is, exactly. Maybe it’s just how your smile suddenly seems to have gone a few degrees cooler; then again, since when has your smile ever actually looked like one, and since when has he cared what your smile looks like in the first place?

This pisses him off, actually, but for some inexplicable reason, instead of flipping you off, he just shrugs and glowers and asks “since when do you walk home this way, anyway?”

I’m actually visiting a friend.

You shrug a little and offer him a short nod of farewell, before waving at Kirishima as you turn down the left path and begin walking away.

Katsuki stares for a moment, then whirls around and stalks down the opposite fork in the road, Kirishima hot on his heels. “Hey, Bakugou- wait!”

“Catch up, hair-for-brains!” he hollers back, kicking aside an empty can in his way. Fuck this, honestly. Fuck you for being a confusing little shit.

He cleans out the dust bunnies again as soon as he gets home, attacking them with a fury that makes his father look vaguely disturbed while his mother curses loudly.

______

The nice thing about trying to forget about something is that sometimes, the world just seems rigged against you. Apparently the idea of moving on with your life is just that repulsive.

Or rather, Aizawa-sensei seems to have some sort of fucking problem.

Why the fuck else would he keep making Katsuki spar with you? There’s some bullshit excuse about how your quirks are compatible, sure, something-something-Reflection-repels-explosions-and-prevents-injury, but that’s irrelevant. Initially, Katsuki’s pretty sure he can enjoy crushing you again. That should take care of this lingering uncomfortable feeling.

And he does crush you again. Several times, in fact. He counts the seconds whenever he has you pinned and they’re never below fifteen. He actually lands a proper punch a few times, too, which effectively cancels out the smarting in various parts of his body from where you’ve pushed him back with a few sharp kicks of your own.

You always retaliate with a nod and a bow and a thanks for the sparring session.

He wonders if it would somehow physically hurt you to acknowledge that it’s anything more than that. You probably know. There’s no way you’re that stupid. He knows you know, and you know he knows you know, and he knows-

Goddammit, he didn’t ask for this migraine.

Maybe it’s a testament to how much this is messing with his head that the next time you thank him, he feels compelled to not flip you off. He glares at you instead, wiping a dash of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and answers with a don’t know what the fuck you’re thanking me for, I just beat your ass, didn’t I?

The handkerchief you offer him for his split lip is insulting enough; the smile that accompanies it could be described as almost wry. Amused, or maybe faintly mocking. And honestly, he can’t understand what the hell you find so funny right now, but then his blood pressure stops mid-skyrocket as he realizes: this is the first time your smile has looked anything but docile and smoothly polite.

Is that actually progress- has he actually chipped away at you- or is it just you being an unreadable asshole?

There’s really no way to tell.

Later that afternoon, he slams the front door when he arrives home and stalks straight to his room, where he spends the rest of the day stuck between intervals of furious studying and furious pacing.

(He finds your handkerchief in his pocket later that day, still slightly smeared with dried blood-

Somehow, he doesn’t hurl it straight across the room, and the reality of that is infuriating to think about.)

_______

“Hey man,” Kirishima eyes the white cotton peeking out of the pocket of Katsuki’s baggy uniform pants, his brow furrowed, “isn’t that-?”

“None of your damn business, is what it is,” Katsuki snaps in reply, shoving it all the way back in.

If you’re not looking for the thing, he doesn’t need to give it back. Like hell if he’s going to be seen carrying it around. It’s only in his pocket because he didn’t want a bloody, clearly-not-his handkerchief lying around where his parents could find it.

He meets your gaze across the classroom during break, right before you saunter outside with Deku at your side, chattering excitedly about some shitty nerd thing. You smile at him. He’s sure it doesn’t reach your eyes.

It’s not like you even asked for him to give it back, anyway.

_______

Weeks pass. Months, maybe. He fights you again, and again, and somehow, this becomes routine- part of life at U.A, which is nowhere near what he expected from this goddamn school. He ends up sitting next to you for projects where he’s not assigned with Kirishima. It sucks ass. Your gaze is still glassy and cool and you still like to play the pacifist, and you’re way too good at every assignment which just makes him want to fight you again (and you, of course, will fucking decline because you don’t fight for sport).

(He still hasn’t given your handkerchief back. You still haven’t asked for it- but he’s getting real tired of finding it in his pocket.)

At some point, he starts greeting you back in the mornings when you bow your head in his general direction. It’s an instinctive reaction. He has to catch himself to stop from nodding back.

______

The sports festival comes and goes. You drop out halfway through with an average-but-commendable performance, and Katsuki tells himself that this is did not add to his rage by the time he was facing the icy-hot bastard, that he was not somehow incredibly frustrated by the feeling that you, the wimp who’s never come close to winning a single match against him, should have gotten farther than that. The thought that you could’ve won a medal makes no sense, but it spins around in his head all the same.

He runs into you in the hallway later on, and you nod briefly. You’re holding a bunch of tissues to your bleeding nose. Looks almost comical with your reserved, high-and-mighty air. Katsuki feels too angry at his own win to sneer, but then you just offer him a smile.

Congratulations, Bakugou. You never disappoint.

You walk off with Deku again that day and Katsuki watches. He becomes suddenly aware that there’s still a handkerchief in his pocket. He very firmly feels nothing about the fact that he could offered it to you. You’re a U.A student, you can take a fucking nosebleed, and he doesn’t care.

______

“Bakugou,” Kaminari announces one day while they’re playing video games at his place, along with Kirishima, Ashido, and Sero- “it’s nice to see you’re actually friends now. I thought you were gonna kill each other at one point. Funny how things change, yeah?”

Mina and Sero emphatically agree and Katsuki, cursing vehemently, contemplates smashing the console.

_____

It’s not as if he asked for this to happen. It’s not his fault that fate or destiny or bad luck or whatever bullshit you want to call- whatever it is, it keeps throwing you at him.

Kirishima’s absent on this particular Friday, sick from a cold, and Katsuki’s walking home alone because the other three idiots decided to go to the arcade and he doesn’t have time for that shit. Not that he cares. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and looks ahead, squinting at the figure walking some ways in front of him.

...U.A uniform, crumpled shirt collar. Goddammit.

You’re on the phone, and as he draws nearer, he can hear you humming in agreement with the person on the other end; you laugh a little, suddenly, and that catches him off guard. He didn’t know you were actually capable of laughter. It’s a light, quiet sound, more of a brief puff of air than anything else, and it’s a shitty excuse for a laugh, but whatever. Typical.

In a moment, he’s caught up to you, and you look up mid-laugh and meet his gaze. Your eyes widen just a fraction- the first time you’ve looked like that since the first time he sparred with you. It’s no longer very satisfying, though. Not when you’ve since made up a million different ways to screw with him.

...ah, I’ve just run into a classmate. I’ll call you later, Takeo-kun. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.

(Your tone is oddly sweet.)

There was no need, actually, because Katsuki doesn’t fucking care what you do or who you call and he’s certainly not walking home with you when there’s not even Kirishima here to use as an excuse for...anything. You joined in before to talk to Kirishima, not him, and that’s the way things are supposed to be.

So he has no idea what possesses him to remark, a touch snidely but not as sharply as he wanted it to be, “Who the fuck’s Takeo-kun?”

(He doesn’t care. He shouldn’t be asking. Dammit.)

Oh. You look serene as you slip your phone back into your bag. My boyfriend. He doesn’t go to U.A.

Boyfriend?

Katsuki wonders what kind of bastard would willingly date you- you with your glassy eyes and infuriatingly mild manners and habit of smiling at everything in that overly nice way that looks like a facade. He tries to imagine it. Holding hands with you. Walking with you.

...which he’s already doing. Fuck it. Now he feels sick and the headache’s coming back; he really didn’t have to imagine you in a romantic context. The mental images are banished in an instant but they’re still there in the back of his head and it makes him want to punch something.

But you turn your smile to him.

So, do you have any idea what to do about Present Mic’s homework? I’m assuming you know more about it than I do.

____

He does end up walking home with you, talking about homework, which is fine, impersonal enough that he can still scowl at you, important enough that he can momentarily forget about the mental images from earlier. Good. If he has to walk with you, then this is how it should be.

And the conversation goes unfortunately smoothly. This close, his eyes keep straying to your crumpled shirt collar. Most of the stuff you bring up is relevant to lessons. He talks quickly, furiously, meticulously quoting details so you remember exactly how far ahead of you he is in all of this, so that you acknowledge defeat, something you still haven’t done since that first sparring session.

But you just nod along.

At the crossroads, you turn to the left again, offering a parting nod of the head.

Katsuki can’t help it. “Off on a damn date or something?’

(And it’s not an unreasonable assumption to make. You were calling your boyfriend minutes ago, and this isn’t your usual route home. Maybe you actually meant to meet this Takeo bastard that last time with Kirishima, too.

If the thought makes Katsuki feel sick again, that’s probably just the very idea of you in a romantic context.)

You tilt your head a little. I am, actually. Thanks for keeping me company on the way.

And with a gesture of farewell, you turn down the fork in the road. Walking away.

Katsuki grits his teeth.

“Hey!”

You stop momentarily. He inhales, and the words come tumbling out.

“Don’t just assume that we’re close now because I beat you a few times, asshole- I wouldn’t have ever walked with you if not for hair-for-brains! We’re not fucking friends!”

Silence. He’s breathing a little heavily. You stare back at him, the stillness in your eyes unbroken.

Then you smile faintly.

Something about it is reminiscent of that time after the sparring match- the telltale twitch at the corners of your mouth.

“We don’t have to be, you know.”

____

At home that afternoon, he absentmindedly reaches into his pocket. The handkerchief is still there.

He’s no longer sure how angry that makes him.

#BNHA #Bakugou Katsuki #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x you #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #BNHA reader insert #series #gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader insert #Mod Eve #phew this was long #(er than I intended)

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saysomethingspiderman · 4 years

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Something Wonderful (PT.6)

Synopsis: During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. Who would have thought shooting the self-titled “walking meme” would change your life forever?

Chapter word count: 4.7k

Warning: SMUT (I tried)

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight

Happiness was simply an understatement to describe how being with Tom made you feel; elated, euphoric, intoxicated was more like it. Tom brought out a warmth in you that you weren’t even aware you had. Every time he smiled, laughed or simply looked your way your heart melted. You couldn’t dream of spending your time with anyone else. Ever since that (incredibly) short conversation about what your relationship actually was, you had barely left his place. It quickly became your safe place; the one place you felt truly comfortable.

Tom had a fairly busy few weeks filled with interviews, photoshoots and meetings, though luckily he stayed based in London and gave you one of his spare keys for the times he was out all day. His reasoning was for you to keep Tessa company since Harrison was away for a few weeks on holiday with his family, but he struggled to hide the way his entire face lit up every time he saw you curled up on the couch whenever he got home after a long day. He would then usually shower to get off the remnants of makeup he had on his face and squeeze on the couch with you for a cuddle. It was easy and comfortable and felt so right. How could a relationship be so effortless?

“You know what we’ve still not actually done yet?” Tom asked one particular cosy night. He pulled his attention away from the TV and gave you an almost shy smile as he shuffled to sit up a little, disrupting your sleepy state; until that moment, you’d been set on the idea of falling asleep against his chest, but clearly Tom had other ideas. “We haven’t gone on a real date. One where we’re not off our faces on shots or having to rush because one of us has to get back to work. I want to take you out on a proper date where we can dress up and go out for a nice meal and not have to think about anything else.”

It was true. There had been the breakfast date and road trip when you were both back in the States, but other than that there hadn’t been another occasion. You’d both been pretty busy, more Tom than you. Tom was still promoting the film and when he got any down time during the day, you were usually busy with work and deadlines. Your nights tended to end like tonight; wrapped up in a blanket with Tom on the couch and Tessa at your feet, both too tired from the day to actually do anything other than watch Netflix. It was nice to wind down together and simply enjoy each other's company. The kissing was just an added bonus. But Tom was still right: you had yet to go on a real date.

“Okay, well we’re both free tomorrow night,” you replied and reached up to push your favourite curl from his forehead. “Since it was your idea, it’s up to you to find the restaurant. No pressure or anything. Just don’t try too hard or make it obvious that you’re trying to woo me, don’t want to give the game away.”

“Woo you?” he repeated with a snort. He shook his head and caught your hand in his, then pressed his lips to your palm. Your skin tingled at the touch. “I didn’t know my girlfriend was an old woman at heart.”

“Well surprises come in all shapes and sizes,” you said with a grin and squealed with he reached around to tickle your side gently, though he quickly released you to rest his hand on your hip as he relaxed again.

“I think I’ve got somewhere in mind, but I might have to pull the celebrity card to get a reservation for tomorrow,” he said, absently stroking the bit of skin just above your jeans. “I’ll get it sorted. We’ll book it for about eight so I’ve got plenty of time in case my interviews run late.” His hand slid up your side and to your back where he started to play with the ends of your hair, something which had recently become his favourite pastime.

“Well you sort all that out and I’ll just worry about making myself look pretty.”

If you weren’t already looking at Tom, you still would have known he rolled his eyes. “Darling, you could wear a potato sack and you’d still be the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

The tenderness of his voice and the kiss he pressed to your forehead made you melt. You looked up at him with a soft smile, your cheeks a flushed, flaming red. His compliments were something you never tired of hearing. With a small shuffle, you leaned in to kiss him tenderly. When you began to pull away, Tom tightened his grip around your body and held you flush against his own. His tongue slipped past your lips and you welcomed him with a barely audible gasp. He smirked into the kiss and ran his hands down along your back before taking a firm hold of your bum, groaning deeply at the feel of the flesh in his hands. A low growl was heard, catching you off guard. He’d never made that noise before and you weren’t sure how it made you feel. Tom seemed to be thinking along the same lines, assuming the noise came from you. A small pout appeared on your lips when he pulled away slightly. Another growl came. Tom huffed and rolled his eyes, then looked over to the left.

Tessa looked over at you both from the end of the couch, watching intently. She growled yet again.

“Don’t like being a third wheel, huh, Tess?” Tom sighed. He gave you a light peck on the lips before sitting up properly on the couch to detangle himself from your limbs. When he noticed your pout had gotten bigger, he laughed and kissed your cheek, then whispered into your ear, “Tomorrow. I promise.” His voice was low and full of desire. “We’ll have no interruptions and, most importantly, no one to cock block.”

True to his word, Tom booked one of the more fancier restaurants in London. You knew it was fancy because you had to Google near enough everything on the online menu just to actually know what it was. While Tom spent the day traveling all over the city for different work commitments, you spent the morning in town searching for the perfect outfit. None of the clothes you already had were suitable and frankly you just fancied treating yourself. For hours you searched through what felt like hundreds of shops. Your feet hurt, you had a headache, and the majority of people bustling around the city were winding you up. Then in what you promised yourself was the last shop, you found the dress. The silky, dark green material fit like a glove, hugging all your curves in a way you knew would drive Tom crazy. It fell just over your knees, making your legs look longer.

You took extra time getting ready that night. You curled your hair loosely and applied your makeup carefully, deciding on a smokey eye and a nude lipstick to make your lips look more plump. For some reason you were nervous, at least more so than you should have been considering your relationship was already set. What was there to be worried about?

As it began to near half past seven, you slipped on the dress and found a pair of nude heels to match. You hadn’t spoken to Tom that much throughout the day because you knew how busy he was, but he’d told you he would pick you up at half past. As though he’d waited for the clock to turn, at half seven on the dot you got a text to say he was outside. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You gave yourself a quick once over in the mirror and ruffled your hair to make it a little messy, then hurried out of the flat, ignoring Olivia’s shout to use protection.

“You, my darling, are fucking beautiful,” Tom grinned when you slid into the front of his car next to him. He looked you up and down and then leaned over for a kiss. “You look stunning.”

“I don’t look even half as good as you,” you replied, wiping your lipstick away from his top lip where it had smudged. The tight shirt showed off his muscles on his chest and arms. Oh those arms.

“You’re beautiful,” Tom told you and stopped you making another comment by giving you another kiss.

On the drive over to the restaurant, he caught you up on his day. You loved hearing stories about what it was like behind the scenes. Although you’d met many people through work in Tom’s position, you’d never really understood what it was like to be under the spotlight. He told you all about who he’d been interviewed by that day and how much easier and relaxed he felt when he was joined by other cast members rather than have to go through the questions alone; it was much easier to wiggle out of uncomfortable questions when he had backup.

“We’re all going out for dinner one night when we’re done with all the press stuff,” Tom told you as he pulled up outside the restaurant where a valet stood waiting to park the car. “I keep meaning to ask if you’ll come, but my memory turns into a sieve when I’ve got so much on.” He got out of the car, handed the valet his keys, then came around your side to help you out with a big, cheeky grin on his face. That kind of thing wasn’t something you expected or necessarily wanted, but Tom just couldn’t help himself.

“I’d love to come with you. You never know, maybe I’ll get lucky with Jake,” you replied with a hopeful and exaggerated sigh.

“Not if I beat you to it,” he snorted and took a hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, and led you into the restaurant.

The lights were turned down low and a small band played jazz music over in the far corner of the large room, casting an incredibly romantic aura around you. Per Tom’s request, you were taken to one of the tables towards the back for a little bit more privacy, though with a perfect view of the band. Red wine was ordered (a small glass for Tom as he was driving) and you couldn’t help but giggle when you tapped your glasses together to celebrate finally making it out on your first proper date.

“I told Mum and Dad about us the other day,” you said when the starters arrived. You ripped apart a small piece of bread to start dipping into your soup. “I’ve never seen Mum so excited over anything before in my whole life.”

“And what was your dad’s reaction?” Tom questioned. It was clear he was nervous about the man’s feelings towards him, which was understandable because the two had still yet to meet.

You gave a shrug of a shoulder and quickly wiped the corner of your mouth where the soup had spilled. “Typical dad reaction, I suppose. He got protective, though I could tell he was only pretending, and just started asking questions about you. Nothing too dramatic. I mean, Dad’s just one of those parents who’s happy if I’m happy. I just know how embarrassing he’ll be, though, when he finally meets you. More embarrassing than Mum, that’s for sure.”

“Your mum wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, because you met her for about five minutes before I saved you.”

“Wait until you meet mine,” Tom chuckled and took a sip of his wine. “It’s like she always carries baby pictures of us around all the time just waiting for the perfect moment to whip them out. Not even kidding, the first time I introduced her to Downey, it wasn’t even five minutes before she pulled a picture of me in my old Spidey baby suit!”

You laughed softly and shook your head, holding your hand to your chest. “You had a baby Spider-Man costume? Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever imagined anything cuter!”

Tom’s cheeks reddened. He cast a shy smile over at you and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. “Yeah, well I guess I was born for the part,” he smirked with a shrug of a shoulder.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone doing a better job at it,” you told him sincerely and the soft look that appeared on his face made it clear how much those words meant to him. There were many things that Tom was that you simply adored and being passionate about his job was right up there towards the top of the list. Being Spider-Man meant so much to him and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it, both for himself and for fans of the whole Marvel franchise.

Throughout the meal, the two of you laughed like you were the only ones in the room. All hell could have broken loose in the restaurant but neither of you would have noticed because you were just enjoying each other’s company. You realised one of your favourite things to do was make him laugh; it was a gorgeous sound that you’d never get sick of. When the bill was paid, Tom decided to leave his car for now and you walked hand in hand to a cocktail bar not too far away.

“So go on,” you said when you settled down in a little booth in the bar with a bright orange cocktail in your hand. You leaned into Tom’s side comfortably and he placed a hand on your knee, stroking the smooth skin with his thumb. “Tell me one thing no one else knows. Not even your brothers or even Harrison,” you continued and gave a cheeky grin.

Tom laughed and shook his head, then took a gulp of his water as though preparing himself. But he shrugged his shoulders. “There’s not much they don’t know, especially Haz. Fucking hell, he probably knows more about what I’ve been up to than I know myself.” He leaned back in the seat as he thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ve got something, but you have to promise you can’t breathe a word to anyone,” he said and leaned back towards you again, face just inches from yours.

“Okay, I promise,” you smiled and tilted your head a little higher to steal a kiss. As well as his laugh, his kisses were at the top of your list of favourite things about him.

“I mean it, babe,” he said, voice low. It sent shivers along your spine and goosebumps appeared on your arms and legs. A glint appeared in Tom’s eye and he squeezed your knee. Then, wanting to test your reaction, slid his hand slowly along the outside of your thigh, pushing your dress up along with it. “You’ve to promise me you won’t tell anyone,” he repeated in a whisper, pressing his forehead to yours.

All you could do was give a nod. You were barely listening to him now, your focus solely on his hand on your leg and the burning feeling his fingers left on your skin. Your eyes fluttered close as he leaned closer, brushing his nose against yours. His lips were so close, his breath tickling you.

“The day we met,” he started and brushed a piece of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear, “I actually had a date that night.”

“Oh, well how lovely. That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” you replied with a roll of your eyes. “I wanted something juicy or a story about a wank gone wrong or something.”

Tom chuckled softly and shook his head. “I didn’t tell anyone because the guys make a big deal out of things like that sometimes. But yeah, I don’t even think it was half an hour after meeting you that I cancelled it. I didn’t…” He paused, gave a small smile and then kissed you chastely. “I didn’t want to let you slip away.”

You pretended to throw up into your drink and laughed when he pushed his hand further under your dress to grab a hold of your bum. “You, Mr Holland, are a very cheeky boy,” you giggled, placing your own hand on his chest to fiddle with the small buttons on his shirt. “But just so you know, I’m fucking glad you cancelled.”

“You know what? So am I.”

You weren’t sure how fast it happened or which one of you made the first move, but in what felt like no time at all, you’d downed the rest of your drink, driven back to Tom’s and found yourself pressed against the front door of his house after he’d slammed it shut behind you. The door was cold against your back but your skin burned at Tom’s touch. His kiss was hungry and hurried, as though it would be his last time tasting you. His hands grabbed at your waist, your hips, anywhere he could, and hurriedly pushed your dress up, not giving a care in the world if it ripped.

“Careful,” you managed to whisper as his lips moved to your neck. His hands were everywhere, touching as much of your skin as he could, yet it wasn’t enough. You needed more. Taking charge, you firmly took a hold of his hands and, seeing his suddenly confused expression plastered across his face, moved away to lead him to the bedroom, letting your dress fall back down your legs on the way to hide the bum he adored so much.

“I swear, if Tessa ruins this for us again, I’ll throw away her box of treats,” Tom muttered grumpily, eyes fixated on how the dress clung perfectly, almost tauntingly, to your backside.

“Oh we both know you’d never be so cruel,” you smirked, glancing back at him over your shoulder. You caught him admiring your bum and raised a brow. “Spot something you like?”

“Oh yeah, very much!” Tom looked up and gave a great, big, childish grin.

It was as though stepping through the doorway into Tom’s bedroom suddenly intensified the nervousness you’d been feeling before the date. You’d both been happy in your relationship and you knew eventually it would lead to this, but now you stood in his room in your crinkled dress that Tom had struggled not to rip off you, it felt incredibly real. This was really happening. You turned and saw Tom watching you from the doorway. He gave a smile.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said, sensing your hesitation. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Oh believe me, I want to,” you replied and your face flushed at how excited he looked. “I just… I don’t know, I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

With a shake of his head, Tom moved closer and cupped your face in his gentle hands. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Darling, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

You were being irrational, you knew it. He was right, there was nothing to worry about because you were with him. You weren’t exactly new to this but it had been a while. The softness of his voice made you look up and you slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck as you pulled him closer. The kiss was soft and slow but the lust very quickly took over. All nervousness was forgotten. His hands held your waist and he pushed you back towards the bed, resting himself on top of you when you fell down onto the mattress. His fingers skimmed the skin on your thigh, making you shiver, and he pushed your dress further up, bunching it in his fist on your hip, struggling to control himself and not destroy it. You pressed against his shoulders, moving so you were on top, straddling his hips as you deepened the kiss, tongues tracing over each other’s lips.

When your breath started coming out faster and the heat began to build up almost uncomfortable in your bodies, you sat up properly and bunched your dress up to pull it off. Tom’s face was a glorious sight. He swallowed thickly as his hungry eyes took every inch of you in, eventually settling on your bare breasts.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Tom moaned and roughly pulled you back down, hands running over your back as he kissed your neck, leaving his mark.

You tugged at his shirt and he sat up enough to swiftly tug it off, tossing it to the other side of the room. His lips found yours again and he pressed you flush against his chest, skin touching skin. You kissed along his shoulder, nibbling and licking and sucking gently. His soft moan vibrated through his chest and you smirked, though it quickly turned into a moan of your own when his hands moved to cup your breasts and he took a nipple in his mouth.

He pushed you back onto the bed and kissed along your breasts and down your body until he reached the lacy edge of the thong you wore specially for tonight. A heavy sigh came from him and he looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust.

“Well get on with it,” you teased. You chewed your lower lip at the sight of him, his hair ruffled and cheeks slightly flushed. His made your knees weak.

Tom pushed aside the elastic, kissing the flesh he’d revealed, and a shiver shook your body. You moaned impatiently, and his restraint slipped. He pulled your thong down a little rougher than intended and groaned deeply, seeing the shining wetness of your core. He kissed your inner thigh and slid his fingers along between your lips, feeling the dampness. Hearing your whimper, he slowly slipped two fingers into you.

“Christ, you’re soaking,” Tom whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

His fingers were gentle and slow. He moved back up your body to kiss you. You moaned softly against his lips as he moved his fingers faster, smoothing his thumb over your clit. You rocked your hips against him and pulled him closer, grabbing at his hair and pulling on the curly strands. He pressed harder against your clit and tugged on your lower lip with his teeth. You felt yourself getting closer as his fingers curled inside your walls, finding the spot that made stars appear before your eyes.

Tom smirked against your lips.

Your muscles tightened around his fingers.

And you came undone.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, watching you writhe against him. He swallowed thickly. Slowing his movements as you came down from your high, he pressed gentle kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your eyelids, wanting to get every bit of you. He then tilted your head up to capture your lips in a kiss.

“Why do you still have clothes on?” you managed to ask and reached down to fiddle with the button of his trousers.

His breath hitched as you grazed over his hardened cock. He shook his head and reluctantly moved away. Seeing the pout on your swollen lips, he laughed and just stood up straight to remove his trousers and boxers.

Your mouth watered at the sight. This time it was your turn to be left breathless.

“You all right, darling?” he asked, though the smirk that graced his lips made it more than obvious he knew that you were impressed.

“Never better,” you whispered and sat up properly to move to the edge of the bed, settling in front of him. Your eyes never left his as you pressed the softest of kisses to his tip.

“Another time,” Tom said in a pained voice and brushed your hair from your eyes. He moved over to the bedside table and pulled a box of condoms from the drawer, quickly opening one to slide on to his throbbing cock. “Hey, my eyes are up here,” he said with a cocky grin and pointed to his face when he noticed you couldn’t look away.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you replied and grabbed a hold of his hand to pull him onto the bed, ignoring his yelp as you moved to straddle him. The sight of him lying between your thighs was heavenly. Would it be wrong to just stay in this spot all night, pressing your heat against him so you could watch him squirm beneath you? A deep groan came from Tom as you began moving your hips painstakingly slowly, spreading your wetness along his cock.

His fingers dug into your thighs and moved up to hold your bum, grabbing it hard enough to leave marks. Just as he was about to beg, you raised yourself up a little and guided his cock to your entrance, eyes closing in pure bliss as you gently lowered yourself, taking his full length.

“Jesus, [Y/N],” came his whimper and his hands tightened on your bum to help lift you slightly. Both your moans filled the room as you fell back down, clenching your walls around him.

You leaned down and brought your lips to his. It was hungry, powerful, intoxicating. The room fell away, leaving the two of you lost in your own bubble of passion. He pulled you closer, your breasts bouncing against his chest as you rocked your hips, but he wanted more. He couldn’t bring you close enough. He wanted every part of you.

Tom tightened his hold on you and rolled over, lips barely breaking contact with your skin. He pushed into you and buried his head in the crook of your neck. His moans were addictive. His hips rocked into yours, each move purposeful.

Your nails raked along the skin of his back, leaving angry red lines. The whispers and murmurs of encouragement and swearing and simply his name in your lips spurred Tom on even more, wanting to give everything he had. With a hand placed around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, testing the waters, he thrust harder and took a hold of your leg beneath your knee, lifting it. The angle was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

The scent, taste and feel of him was perfect.

He began roughly pounding into you, kissing every piece of your skin he could reach: your chin, neck, collar bone, breasts. You felt skin break under your nails and you moved your hands from his back to his hair, pulling hard on the curls.

“F-fuck, don’t s-top, oh God, please don’t stop!” Your words came out in a pant, quickly turning to a loud moan when he dropped his hand from your leg and moved it between you, rubbing your clit in a way that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The bed beneath moved with you both, headboard smashing against the wall with each of Tom’s thrusts.

“You gonna cum for me, darling?” His voice was hoarse and deep.

You bit down hard into the skin between his neck and shoulder as you entered the state of euphoria. Tom followed just moments later with one final thrust, spilling himself with a low groan of your name. His legs weakened and he fell onto you, crushing your body beneath him.

“Okay, I can’t breathe,” you giggled and blew his hair away from your mouth.

With a laugh, he leaned up to give you a kiss, then rolled onto his back next to you to rest, eyes closing. He lay panting softly, body too spent to move much. “That was-”

“Yeah,” you replied with a big grin and glanced at him. His skin glistened in the light of the room and his hair stuck up at all angles. “It was definitely amazing.”

Lids still closed, he pulled the condom off and tied it in a knot, then tossed it onto the floor, deciding it was a problem to clean up later. He reached out to you and pulled you close against his chest. The sound of his heart beat loudly in your ears and you decided right then and there that you never wanted to spend your life with anybody else. This, right here with Tom, was home.

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kar3npage · 5 years

Text

The 5 times one of the Foxes saw Andrew smile, and the one time all of them saw him smile

Because I love the 5+1 format, and because I just want Andrew and Neil to be happy. (Also I’ve decided that of course they would get married, because that just makes sense).

My apologies for any mistakes, this was written all in one go this afternoon and I was too excited to wait before posting. I’m also trying to sign up for ao3 so I can post it there, I’ll update when that happens:)

Thanks for reading!

The mood in the room was unusually somber before the Palmetto Foxes third game of the season. This was especially unusual because they weren’t expecting any sort of backlash, and the team that they were playing against was pretty tame. No one had any particular fear against the Terrapins and the two teams were mostly friendly.

Allison knew that the dark vibe was from the silence that came from the corner that Neil and Andrew sat in.

Besides the cat fights with the new Foxes, everyone on the team has been working well together this year. The upperclassmen and Andrews group had an unbreakable bond from the events of last year, although they all pretended that they couldn’t care less about the other group (except for Matt. He couldn’t pretend to not care if his life depended on it, the sweet puppy).

Neil’s silence was accompanied by a far away gaze and sickly pale skin. Allison had already pulled him aside in the dorms to lecture him about playing while sick, but he insisted that he was fine. Allison had let him go, assuming that Andrew would take care of him. Now she was wondering if she should have pushed harder, since he looked absolutely determined to play today.

Renee’s soft nudge distracted Allison from their almost dead looking striker and she gave her an understanding look.

“I’m sure he’ll take care of himself,” Renee says quietly. Allison squeezes her hand, grateful to have her to lean against. She still wasn’t sure how Renee managed to understand exactly what everyone was thinking with such accuracy.

“Okay people, we’ve gotten a strong start, let’s keep that up,” Wymack says gruffly, sending a concerned look toward Neil. “If any of you aren’t feeling up to it, tell me now so we can change the starting line-up.”

Everyone looks at Neil, who stares straight ahead like he hadn’t heard Coach. He turns his head to avoid Andrews dark look, then gets up stiffly.

“We done Coach? Dan and I would like to start drills soon,” Neil says. Allison snorts at his poor attempt at changing the subject, but Wymack just lets him go with a nod.

As they make their way over to the court Allison sees Wymach snag Andrew. “You’ll keep an eye on him?” she hears him say. She doesn’t hear Andrew answer, but she knows that he will.

They’re up, 4-2, by the time the first half is done. Allison had kept her eye on Neil every time she was off, but he had looked fine while playing. Abby wasn’t able to check in with him during half-time though, too busy dealing with Jack’s minor injury that he had gotten from getting checked into the plexiglass. Allison had to admit that she had very little sympathy for the kid.

Everything was going fine until almost the end of the next half. Allison hadn’t been paying much attention to the health of her team while she was playing, focused more on actually playing, but no one could ignore the loud slam that came from near the other teams goal.

Allison instinctively looked toward the noise to find out who was down.

The game was still going, but slumped against the wall across from her was Neil. Allison didn’t hesitate to run over to him, abandoning the goal for Andrew to look after.

One of the Terrapins backliners stood beside him, helmet off and looking sweetly concerned. He starts babbling as soon as Allison makes it over to them.

“I swear, it wasn’t that hard of a hit,” he says frantically. Allison understood the panic-it had less to do with Neil and more to do with what might happen to the poor kid when Andrew got here.

Allison ignores him and tugs Neils helmet off to reveal his deathly pale face. His eyes start fluttering as he wakes up, and he’s able to put his hand up to stop the game. Allison hears a smack behind her, but she ignores it.

“Neil, where are you hurt?” she says. It comes out irritated, but she knows that Neil will get that it’s out of concern.

“‘M fine,” he mumbles, trying and failing to get up. Allison shoves him down and looks around for Abby.

The poor kid who hit Neil is being held against the plexiglass by a furious Andrew, Nicky and Aaron standing beside him and trying to talk him out of any blatant violence. Abby has fighting her way through the players with a mixture of anger and worry.

“Drew?” Neil says, eyes closed and head leaning against the wall. There’s another smack and a few seconds later Andrew shoves Allison out of the way to sit beside him. Abby shows up a few minutes later, but Allison stays where she is to use her body to give them a bit of a barrier.

“You idiot,” Andrew growls. “Next time, get up after you get hit.”

Neil gives him a feverish smile. “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m f-, I’m okay.” He just barely catches himself and Andrew shakes his head in irritation. Allison grins, a little relieved that he’s feeling good enough to catch his words.

“Neil, do you know how high your fever is right now? You could kill yourself, playing like this. What were you thinking?” Abby lectures while she smooths back his hair. “Why didn’t you tell him to stop, Andrew?”

Neil grabs Andrews hand awkwardly, still wearing his armoured gloves. Andrew snorts. “You think I’m his keeper? He does what he wants. Junkie.”

Neil laughs weakly at that and lets Abby and Andrew support his weight as they get him up. Once he’s able to stand on his own two feet, the crowd lets out a supportive roar and Allison turns around to see Neil and Andrew. Andrew gives him a small, relieved smile, something that Allison never thought that she would see. No one had seen Andrew smile a single time since he’s been off of his meds. This smile is completely different. It softens his jaw, and even though it’s so small that it’s barely noticeable, Neil beams when he catches it.

She hears Andrew mutter a number under his breathe and they slowly walk off the court.

Allison could settle a few bets from this, but a part of her knows that she saw a private moment. Renee walks over to take over the goal and gives her a pleased smile, almost like she knew how selfless Allison was being by not telling anyone about this.

She grins back and relaxes, knowing that Neil is in good hands.

Matt could cry, he was so happy to see his best friend after so many months apart. Dan squeezes his arm and lets him go give Neil a bear hug. All of them have graduated now, and Christmas is one of the only times that the original Foxes get to see each other, and even then it’s sometimes difficult to get everyone together.

This year everyone is gathered at Abby’s, and it feels just like old times. Aaron and Katelyn are already helping Abby and Wymack in the kitchen and Nicky is regaling everyone with stories from Germany, Erik adding details every once in a while but mostly just looking at his fiance with heart eyes.

Allison and Renee are coming later, and Kevin is watching an Exy match on TV. His mouth is open slightly as he watches the rematch like he’s never seen it before. Andrew sits beside him with a bored expression while he scrolls through his phone, but Matt notices him glance up at them a few times while he chats with Neil.

Neil had mentioned how difficult it’s been to be playing on different teams than Andrew, and Matt can see how happy he is now that everyone’s together. He thinks that Neil’s been getting lonely.

The kitchen is a hive of activity and they all talk over each other as they catch up on the past year. Dan and Matt show everyone their engagement rings, way too excited to wait to tell everyone like they had planned. Matt swears that Wymack tears up a bit when Dan asks him to walk her down the aisle, and Abby just about breaks his back with how tightly she hugs him.

Andrew even offers them a nod and agrees to fly out with Neil for the wedding, even though they aren’t sure when it will be yet.

There’s more exclaiming when Allison and Renee get there and Allison shouts at them for not waiting to announce it until they got there. They look tired but happy after travelling all day, and Renee gives him one of her pleased, proud smiles. At some point Betsy had gotten there as well, and Matt sees her having a long conversation with Andrew in the living room.

Matt can’t believe how far they’ve all come. After such ruined childhoods and terrible experiences in University, they all managed to build themselves lives. Build themselves a family.

Matt feels so incredibly fond of them all that it feels like his chest is going to split, like it can’t hold all of the affection for these people.

Dinner is as hectic and happy as the rest of the day was, and they sit at the dining table for hours talking. Kevin and Neil have an in-depth conversation about their teams and their performance so far this season, which Andrew mocks and then turns to talk with Renee.

Matt and Dan are talking over each other with the ease of people who are perfectly comfortable with each other as they tell Abby about their honeymoon plans, and Allison gives them tips. Or maybe they’re more like orders, but it’s all good ideas so they don’t mind.

It isn’t until after they’ve cleaned up the dishes and most of the Foxes have settled in the living room to rewatch some of their old matches that Matt gets the chance to talk with Neil on his own.

They skype as regularly as possible, and Neil calls him almost every week to get updates, but Matt has still missed him.

When he notices Neil sneak out to the porch, he follows behind.

“It’s hard to believe, but Kevin’s obsession hasn’t waned in the slightest,” Matt jokes as he plops down on the stairs beside Neil. The striker throws his head back to laugh and Matt revels in the warmth that comes with being able to make this once shy kid laugh his genuine, thrilled laugh.

“Andrew would say the same about me,” he says, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“He’s right. You’ve been playing well though, that goal in the last game where you hit it from half court was insane! I have the video saved to my phone so I can show people and tell them I know you,” Matt gushes, glad to finally be able to tell him how proud he is of him. Neil has a pleased blush on his cheeks.

“You still watch my games?”

“Of course I do! Dan and I’ve turned it into date night. We order pizza.”

Neils laughs again, more pleased than he would admit that Dan watches them too.

“How have you been Neil? For real?”

Neil fidgets with the bottom of his shirt. “It’s tough,” he finally admits. “Without Andrew. Our schedules are so different. There’s a chance that next year I might be able to switch though.”

Matt hums and bumps his shoulder against Neils. “I’m glad. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

Neil listens to Matt talk about Dan and what they’ve been up to for a while, and they sit in comfortable silence until Matt finally laughs. Neil gives him a questioning look.

“I have a ridiculous question for you that’s been plaguing me for years now.” Neil raises an eyebrow and waits for Matt to keep talking.

“So if you think that Andrews attractive, does that mean you think that about Aaron too?” Matts eyes are filled with mirth. He knows all too well the strained relationship that Neil and Aaron had through University, and also that they have just reached the point where they can talk about things other than Exy without killing each other.

Neil snorts, but then thinks through an answer much more seriously than Matt expected. “I’m not really attracted to people,” he says, then shakes his head and backtracks. “That’s not what I meant. Obviously I’m attracted to Andrew, and I think he’s beautiful, but it’s more because I know him so well and I trust him so much.”

Neil is blushing slightly at the admission and he looks to Matt to see if he understands what he means.

“It’s hard to explain. I never was attracted to anyone before Andrew. I can see objectively that some people are nice looking, but it doesn’t really affect me. But I really care about Andrew, and I can talk to him for hours and I know what foods he likes and he knows what I like. And the longer we know each other and the more I know him, the more beautiful he gets. Does that make sense?”

Neil frowns and waits for Matt. Matt can’t help the soft smile that curves his lips. “Neil Josten, you are the sweetest person on this goddamned team, you know that? Yeah, that makes sense.”

Matt hears the door close behind them and turns around to see Andrew standing there with his usual blank expression, but his red ears indicate that he heard what Neil said. Neil beams up at him and Matt gets up to leave. He turns around to look at the two before he goes inside and is shocked to see the softest smile gracing Andrews lips before his sits down beside Neil.

It’s no secret that most of the Foxes were worried about Neil choosing Andrew, of all people, to trust. But the longer they’re together, the more Matt realizes that Andrew is just as soft for Neil as Neil is for Andrew, he’s just better at hiding it.

Matt’s still grinning about that soft look hours later when him and Dan are getting ready to leave.

“You two are good for each other,” he says quietly to Neil before they leave, and Neil rewards him with a thrilled smile and a nod.

Playing professionally makes a lot of things very difficult to hide. Something about the sport has made it a fan favourite, and the interesting lives of the players mean that the general public is completely fascinated with hearing about their lives outside of the sport.

As much as Kevin hates how intrusive everyone can be because of this, he has to admit that it makes it much easier for him to keep his eye on the old Foxes. Articles about Neil and Andrew are ridiculously easy to find online, and Kevin has made a habit of checking on them regularly.

He’s doing just that when he finds an article about Andrew getting noticed after his flight to New York. The journalist muses about why on earth he would be going to New York, a place that holds none of his family, only his long time rival, Striker Neil Josten.

What makes his trip even more interesting is the fact that the same long term rival picked him up from the airport.

What made Kevin look at this article with such interest was the picture that was attached to it. It’s obviously been taken with a good camera, since the photo is crisp and clear. In the center stands Neil and Andrew, standing only an inch apart. The crowd behind them is blurred out, making the photo look like a scene from a rom-com. Neil is beaming at Andrew and tugging his bag from him, eyes sparkling. What caught Kevins attention is the small quirk in Andrews lips, something that would be too small to call a smile on anyone but Andrew.

Kevin still has a protective streak for the two boys and wants them to have as easy of a life as possible, but he can’t deny the fact that they seem happier than they ever have been.

Kevin can’t remember the last time that he saw Andrew have a real smile that wasn’t violent or caused by medication.

He re-reads the article, then looks back up at the picture. Is this journalist stupid? He thinks. The whole article is about how Andrew must have come for something else, how their thrilled expressions must have been because they were mid-roast. Kevin can’t believe the journalist didn’t immediately realize that they were dating. He sighs and moves on to the next article, this one about Jeremy, but his mind keeps going back to the content smile on Andrews face. They’re going to be outed if they don’t stop making each other look so happy, he thinks. But he also thinks that maybe that��s not as bad of a thing as he’s made it out to be.

A few minutes later he goes back to the article and sends the link to Nicky without any explanation. He thought that might make Nicky happy.

“I’m glad we still have the skype dates. I know Andrew and Neil are so busy right now,” Erik says, playing absentmindedly with Nicky’s hair as they wait for the boys to answer their skype call.

They’ve been having these weekly conversations with first Neil and Andrew, and later Aaron and Katelyn as well, for months. They had originally just called each other, but Nicky missed seeing his cousins more than he could say. He loves Germany, and he loves every single moment with Erik, but it’s still tough to have such a long distance relationship with his family. Especially after everything they’ve all gone through together.

It was harder to keep in contact with the other Foxes, but they all did their best to meet up for Christmas (everyone even came to Germany a few years ago. Nicky cried with joy, even though Andrew insisted it was just because everyone wanted to see Europe), plus he often got texts from Matt and Renee. And every once in a while he gets an Exy article from Kevin.

Nicky hummed in agreement and watched the screen with anticipation. They had missed last weeks skype call because Neil and Andrew were finally moving in together after signing for the same team in the fall. Nicky has been vibrating with excitement to see the apartment, and Erik has been waiting to ask for tips about taking care of a cat from Neil.

When the screen finally pops up, it’s obvious that Neil and Andrew haven’t noticed it yet. Neil is laughing about something, one of his rare laughs that is unforced and filled with true joy. And Andrew, Nicky’s beloved, terrifying cousin is beaming. It’s the biggest smile he’s seen on his cousins face for years, and it’s the first time he’s ever seen him smile with such true happiness. Nicky could cry, and when he turns to look at Erik, he can see that his eyes are shining as well.

Erik clears his throat and Andrew schools his expression as he turns to the screen. Neil is still looking at Andrew with pure love, but he waves to the screen.

A flash of silver derails Nicky’s thoughts even further.

“Neil. Neil, what is on your hand?” He asks, delight evident in his voice. Neil smirks and holds up the other hand, which has nothing on it. Andrews lips quirk.

“No, your other hand. Is that a ring?!” Nicky is almost bouncing, waiting for Neil to stop teasing him and show him the simple silver band that sits, unassuming, on his finger.

Neil shows him his other hand without hesitating, and Nicky realizes that they’ve already talked about telling him. It makes his heart grow bigger than it already is.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, are you guys engaged? When did that happen?” Nicky practically shrieks while Erik gives them a heartfelt congratulations.

Andrew’s expression is as bored as ever, but Nicky doesn’t miss the fact that they’re holding hands under the laptop.

“A few days ago,” Andrew says nonchalantly. The tips of his ears are pink though, and Neil can’t hold in the grin.

“Hows Germany?” Neil asks politely, and Erik laughs.

“There’s no way Nicky will let you change the subject that quickly,” Erik says, and Nicky nods effusively.

“How did this happen? I need the entire story Andrew! Or Neil, whoever will actually give me the details. Who asked who? Did you cry?”

Neil laughs again. “We asked each other. We had a long conversation about it.”

Nicky wishes that he could tease them for that and call them boring, but he knows what a huge deal this is for his cousin. He’s thrilled that Neil understands that as well.

“You guys are so good for each other,” Nicky says, sniffling a bit. Andrew rolls his eyes.

“I’m hanging up now,” he says.

“No! I need to hear what you’re doing for your wedding! Maybe I can help you plan it. And Allison can too! It’s gonna be so amazing.”

Neil laughs as Andrew reaches his hand out in slow motion to close the computer. Neil’s voice reaches them as the camera goes down.

“We’re going to have a party, we’ll figure out a time you guys can come out, okay?”

Erik confirms that because Nicky is too emotional over the fact that they’re planning the time around him.

He leans his head against Erik’s shoulder and Erik smiles.

“I guess we’ll have to wait until next week for an apartment tour,” he says, and Nicky can hear the smile in his words.

“I never thought that he would be happy. Isn’t that sad? I wasn’t even sure if Andrew would be talking to me for this long. Then this scrappy puppy comes along and puts us all in danger and makes us all love him, and here we are. No one ever would have guessed this in a million years.” Nicky says thoughtfully.

That night, Nicky falls asleep with the picture of a truly happy Andrew in his mind.

As much as he tries to convince his old Foxes that he’s a grouchy old man who doesn’t care, Wymack spends a lot of time checking up on his kids.

He’s been to as many of Kevin’s games as he can possible fit in whenever they’re close enough and he doesn’t have a game on, he video calls Nicky as often as he can (keeping weird hours makes this easier, and Nicky and Abby both lecture him regularly about getting enough sleep), and Dan and Matt live close enough that they have dinner together regularly. Renee and Allison move around too often to make it easy to see them, but everyone ends up together at least once a year. They avoid doing it on Thanksgiving (Andrew and Neil prefer to keep that one quiet, and no one argues with that). Aaron and Katelyn have even come out to see them a few times when their schedules weren’t as hectic with the hospital.

The hardest ones to get to see are Andrew and Neil. They spent a few years doing long distance with both playing on different teams, so every time they had time off they spent it together. Wymack wishes that he could have lived closer to Neil, he knows that those years were particularly difficult on him.

Now that they are living together and on the same team, it’s been easier for them to get in contact with everyone, but they’re still moving around too often for it to be easy to visit.

Last year they detoured to stay with Abby and Wymack for a few days during their annual summer road trip, and having Bee there meant that Andrew has come out a few extra times to stay when Neil was busy with press.

Wymack tries very hard to convince them that he couldn’t care less about how often they come out to visit him, but they all know that he misses them terribly.

To keep a closer eye on them, Wymack and Abby recorded all of their games, and Wymack secretly watches youtube videos with names like ‘Neil Josten’s Best 10 Roasts’ and ‘10 Minutes of the Josten Minyard Rivalry’. He does not miss dealing with the press after Neil’s been let loose, but he feels a bit of pride every time he rips into a deserving journalist after being asked about his scars. If Wymack could kick everyone’s ass who hurt his kids, he would. Since he can’t, watching them get demolished by a tiny redhead has to do.

For the first time in a few weeks, Abby and Wymack are finally watching a game live. It’s always a lot more stressful watching them live, but they make up for that by ordering Chinese and making an evening of it.

They barely talk through the game other than to insult the other team or praise a good save or goal. The second half as just started when an aggressive striker doesn’t stop at the goal lines. The entire court goes silent and Wymack watches with barely controlled terror as Neil sprints across the court just in time for Andrew to hit the wall. Neil shoves the striker away with more venom than Wymack has seen from him since Riko and turns his attention to the goalie currently lying on the ground.

“Come on Andrew, get up,” Wymack whispers as he watches Neil fling his helmet off and protect his prone form while the medical staff make their way over. The sports announcers are frantic as they explain what just happened and Abby groans in irritation as they show a slow motion recap of Andrew getting hit, then of Neil protecting him.

Wymack clutches his phone and enters the number of their coach before he’s even thought it through. He knows it isn’t likely that he’ll answer, but he’s disappointed when it goes to voicemail anyway. Beside him Abby is calling Neil.

It takes almost 30 long minutes before Abby gets through to Neil, and she immediately puts it on speaker phone so that they can both speak to him.

“Neil, is everything okay?” Abby says, concern leaking through her words.

“I’m… I’m not sure yet. I’m at the hospital? And I’m waiting for the doctor,” Neil sounds shocked, voice dull.

“Which hospital are you at? We’re flying there as soon as we can,” Wymack says, and Abby nods, grabbing his phone to book tickets.

“Umm, I’m not sure. One minute,” they can hear mumbling while Neil asks someone where they are and Wymacks heart aches for the poor kid.

“Okay, we’re just at the New York Hospital.”

“I booked our tickets, we’re leaving in an hour okay?” Abby says as soothingly as she can. “We’ll call you when we get there.” Wymack says in lieu of a goodbye.

By the time they make it to New York they each have a few messages from Neil saying that Andrew’s going to be fine, he has a concussion and they’re keeping him for observation, but he’s okay. The relief is palpable after the tension through the flight, and Wymack is glad that Neil thought to tell them.

It’s early in the morning when they get there, so they sleep at a hotel for a few hours while waiting for visiting hours.

It’s far more complicated to get into the room than Wymack thought that it would be. They have to convince the staff that they aren’t journalists or well meaning fans before they’re brought up to the room, and Abby has to show them family photos from Christmas with Neil and Andrew before the nurses decide that they are allowed to see Andrew.

Wymack’s glad for the security but he curses at all the journalists for making it so difficult. They crowd them when they realize who they are visiting, and it takes a security guard and a lot of glaring to part the crowd so they can follow the nurse.

“Can you confirm the Josten Minyard relationship?” One journalist shouts as they walk past.

“Coach Wymack! Coach Wymack, is it true that Minyard’s injury is far worse than they are letting on? And what do you think that means for the team?” another journalist shouts, microphone shoved unceremoniously in his face. Abby pulls him behind her and gives him a warning look not to say anything.

The hallway where Andrews room is located is blissfully calm after the storm downstairs. The nurse indicates which room he’s in, then moves on.

Abby pauses in the doorway and motions for Wymack to step beside her, a look of contentment on her face.

In the room Neil is perched on the bed beside Andrew. He’s a bit pale but there are no visible cuts or bruises and he looks mostly alert. They’re hands are twined together, the silver engagement bands catching the light.

Neil is saying something in a low tone and Andrew squeezes his hand. His mouth tilts up at the corners and looks at Neil with something close to adoration. Wymack tugs Abby away from the door and takes a few steps back to give them their privacy. He texts Neil to tell him that they’ve made it in, and a few minutes later Neil peeks out the door to great them.

He looks exhausted, hair mussed and dark circles under his eyes, but his face brightens when he sees them.

Abby gives him a tight hug before going to sit in the chair beside Andrew who has his usual bored expression. Wymack stops beside Neil and squeezes his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, kid,” he says, feeling a little choked up. Neil looks up in surprise.

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

Wymack grins and pats his shoulder before going in to greet Andrew.

“Next time, get back up after you get hit,” he says gruffly to the tiny blond. Andrew raises a brow.

“Did I worry you, old man? You’re getting soft with age.”

Wymack grunts and sits down in the other chair near the foot of the bed. “Not worried, just annoyed. Kevin’s called me 3 times since I got up this morning to make sure you can still play.”

“He’ll be back in a few weeks,” Neil says while he takes back his post at Andrews side. Andrew rolls his eyes and mutters ‘junkie’ under his breath.

Wymack wishes he could be irritated at the long night and unnecessary panic, but he feels so content being in the same place as his kids that his gruffness is softened.

Neil surveys the apartment from his spot in the kitchen. They’re 1 bedroom apartment is not nearly big enough to comfortably fit everyone in, but no one is complaining about the small space. Even Andrew isn’t feeling claustrophobic yet (Neil keeps checking on him, but he seems happy chatting with Aaron and Kevin on the sofa). True to promise, they did throw a wedding party at their apartment, and they made sure that it was at a time that Nicky and Erik could come out to see them.

However, it took multiple arguments to convince Allison and Nicky that they didn’t need anyone to plan it and that they were just going to get married at the courthouse. Neil’s pretty sure that it was more Renee and Erik than his arguments who made them let it go. No matter what, Neil couldn’t be happier with how everything has turned out.

King winds himself around his ankles, meowing indignantly about the noise in the place and Neil smiles fondly at her.

Matt and Dan are swaying to the music near the balcony door, lost in their own little world. Beside them sway Renee and Allison, and Renee catches Neils eye to smile proudly at him. After Nicky, her and Allison were the next ones they told about the engagement. Andrew had mentioned that it was Renee who convinced him that marriage wasn’t always a bad idea, and Neil couldn’t help but feel a bit grateful for that.

Beside him stood Abby, Wymack, and Bee. Bee has been around long enough that Neil is able to accept her, and he’s glad that Andrew was able to find someone that he trusted so much. Neil has also been going to a therapist, but something about knowing Bee while he was going through everything made it too uncomfortable for him to talk to her. He found someone in New York instead, and Bee seemed so thrilled that he’s managed to open up to someone other than Andrew that Neil almost liked her a little bit. It’s tough to find someone who is genuinely happy about your healing.

Katelyn is laughing with Thea about something, and Erik and Nicky are in the corner cooing over Sir, who is soaking up the attention.

Neil can’t help but think about all of the trials and tribulations it took to get to this point - the time in the Ravens Nest, the terror of Baltimore, all of the panic attacks and rough nights and foggy days. Neil never thought that he would live through his first year of University so every year after that has felt both like a gift and borrowed time. It took until the past year for Neil to wrap his head around the idea that he might be able to live until old age.

That thought was both a relief and terrifying, just because he wants it so badly. Andrew has helped him pull through multiple panic attacks just thinking about it.

Neil knows that there will be other challenges ahead of them (even though they really deserve a happy 20 years to make up for the bad ones), but he thinks that they’ll be much easier than the crap that’s gone on before this.

He catches Andrews eye across the room. They’re both wearing the suits they got for the occasion and Neils eyes have been tracking Andrew all night. He’s noticed that Andrews have done the same thing for him.

Aaron realizes that Andrews attention has strayed and he turns his conversation to Kevin. Neil and Aaron’s relationship isn’t exactly great, but they’ve managed to get to the point where they can go for coffee without hating each other by the time they get home. Neil knows that Andrew appreciates the effort both of them make, even though he’s never said anything about it.

Neil watches as Andrew gets up and makes his way through their friends, no, their family to get to him.

He watches the crowd impassively beside Neil while Neil watches the small twitch at his lips and the fond look in his eyes.

“Staring.”

Neil grins. “I guess you’ll have to do something about that, won’t you?”

Andrew’s jaw tightens where he tries not to smile. Neil feels the glow of accomplishment. My husband thinks I’m funny. He tries to keep his expression calm, but he can see from Andrews pink ears that he’s watching him with as much love as he feels.

Abruptly Andrew holds out a hand. “Yes or no.”

Neil isn’t quite sure what he’s asking, but he puts his hand in Andrews without hesitation. “Of course.”

Andrew leads him over to a quiet spot near the hallway and places Neils hands on his shoulder. He grabs his waist and starts to sway to the music.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what? Like I love you? Because I do,” Andrews ears go red and Neil smirks, feeling very proud of himself for making Andrew blush.

“You’re a pest,” Andrew says.

“Yeah, but I’m your pest.”

And Andrew laughs. Neil almost trips in surprise. He can feel the eyes of the rest of the party on them, but he can’t tear his eyes off of Andrews smile.

“Yes or no,” Neil says.

Andrew’s still smiling. “Yes, Junkie.”

Neil kisses Andrews forehead, not wanting to get rid of that beautiful, perfect smile. There’s a flash and Neil turns around to see Nicky holding a camera.

“This is going on the wall! I’m framing it,” he announces, and Andrews glare holds barely any heat.

A few weeks later, when the package from Germany comes, Neil can see how pleased Andrew is with the photo. It sits in a simple silver frame, and they hang it above the sofa.

Neil feels very much like he lives a charmed life.

2K notes · View notes

crystalwillow · 4 years

Text

Hesitant

Pairing: Elijah Greene x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

A/N: Like myself, have you ever wondered what a blossoming romantic relationship with Elijah and Casey would be like? After talking it over in a group chat recently, I was inspired to take the leap and write a fiction about just that. I feel like there is going to be a lot of fluff and sweet love ahead. Enough to maybe rot your teeth and make you shed a few tears. So grab a snack, drink and a tissue or two. Maybe three. And settle down to take a sweet journey with two of our favourite residents as they realize they’re falling in love.

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It was another busy afternoon at Edenbrook, and a lot of the staffs pagers had just gone off, calling them to the ER for triage. Casey rushed towards the stairs seeing that the elevators were crowded. At the back of a long queue she saw one of her fellow residents, Elijah at the back, trying to wheel his way through the chaos. She stopped and her legs automatically turned round and carried her over.

“Okay people! Y’all who have legs and can use stairs shift it in that direction. We have doctors here that actually need to use the elevators!” she commanded loudly. Others looking at her in shock as she stopped beside Dr. Greene.

The other doctors knew she had a point and realized it would be quicker for them to take the stairs, so they hurried in that direction. Elijah smiled up at her as he wheeled himself forwards and pressed the button to call the elevator.

“Thanks Casey.”

“It was nothing. I didn’t just become a doctor to help out the people in the rooms who need our care.”

“Join me?” he asked as the elevator pinged and the doors opened. Smiling she stepped inside with him and hit the button for the ground floor.

“You know what sucks?” he asked.

“What?”

“We’re on dinner duty tonight.”

“Awesome. I’ve been wanting to cook this new pasta dish.”

Elijah smiled as he laughed, shaking his head lightly. “You can be real shameless.”

“And? So can you. When you want to be.” She replied as they headed towards the doors of the ER.

“Alright. Professional faces back on.”

“I shall see you after this Dr. Greene.”

“Copy that, Dr. Valentine.”

Casey giggled and then got straight to work at getting people’s symptoms and tagging them correctly. Though when she reached one patient, her heart dropped as she heard his voice.

“Not to sound rude, it’s extremely busy here. Please, talk.”

“I have a slight headache and a bunch of cuts and scrapes. My leg is also in extreme pain.”

Casey knew she had a job to do but she was frozen, scared to look up. It was just a coincidence, some dude had a vocal tone that was similar to her friend Bryce, she just hadn’t detected it yet.

“Casey?” Bryce said gently, wincing as he reached out to place his hand on her shoulder.

No. No. No. Damn it. It is her friend. Taking a brief moment to breathe, she turned her gaze up to him, only to gasp at the cuts and scrapes he had all over him. He smiled softly with an encouraging nod which seemed to give her enough strength to tag him correctly and move on. Once triage was complete, she waited for the other doctors to clear out before trying to leave herself. She looked at Bryce who was being seen to as she waited. As if he sensed her, he looked over and gave a smile as if to tell her he was going to be fine. She looked back at him, a sad frown etched on her face.

“I’m going to be fine Case. It’s looking like all I have is a broken leg.” He called out and smiled as he watched some happiness comeback into her being. As if some life had been put back in her with those few words. She waved and then filed out of the ER behind the last few doctors and headed back to her work.

--- That Evening ---

Casey and Elijah were at home, chilling on the couches with their gaming controllers in hand as they played Mario Kart. They were trash talking and nudging each other as they both had their competitive side starting to show.

“Haha! Eat my banana skin you stupid mushroom man! I’m going to win!” Casey exclaimed as she raced towards the finish line

“Oh yeah? Well why don’t you, eat my dust!” Elijah shouted as he used a mushroom to speed past her and cross the finish line in first place. “Hahaha! Yes! That’s what I’m talking about baby. First place! Out of nowhere.”

“Very slick Elijah. Very slick. Well done.” Casey congratulated with a smile as she placed her controller on the coffee table.

“Aw. Are we not going to do another race?” Elijah pouted

“I’d love to. But, we have dinner to cook.”

“You’re right... We should do that before the zombies return and have nothing. They’d eat us.”

“Exactly. After you.”

Elijah put his controller next to Casey’s and wheeled himself to the kitchen.

“So. Casey. You said something about a pasta dish?”

“Yeah. It’s a basic tomato and basil pasta but I want to try and put a twist to it. My own unique taste. Maybe then it could be referred to as the Casey Special.”

“Not fair! I’d know the secret too. It should be called the C&E!”

“Nope. E is what I call Ethan. During work hours it’s Dr. Ramsey, so when we hang out as friends if I say Ethan, he knows he’s in trouble.”

“Okay. Then how about... The Elijsey Special?”

“The Elijsey Special...” she pondered, looking at the sink before turning back to Elijah with a smile. “I like it.”

“Awesome! So what can I do to help?”

“How’s your experience in making a tomato and basil sauce?”

“I’m pretty good at that, believe it or not.”

“I wouldn’t doubt you for a second. Well, not when it comes to things like this. If you were to do something incredibly stupid on the other hand...”

“What? Like, I don’t know, run down the street screaming “I’m practically Taylor Swift. Watch!” then drop into a puddle, shouting the lyrics to Enchanted. Very passionately may I add.”

“That was one time Eli. And plus. Taylor Swift is one of the most powerful female figures in the entertainment industry. I was doing some promotion for her.”

“At 2am. Walking home from the bar?”

“I’ll have you know, Dr. Greene, All the best things happen with a bar, and 2am involved somehow.”

They shared a look and laugh as they continued cooking dinner. They were just plating up when the door opened and closed, a tired yet frustrated sigh following it.

“Worst. Day. EVER!”

Casey and Elijah shared a look of concern before heading out into the main area of the apartment, where they saw Sienna on the couch. Face buried in a cushion before she let out a frustrated scream. She didn’t seem to notice they were there as they shared a deeper concerned look. Things must be really bad for her to be screaming into cushions.

“Hey... Si?” Casey asked hesitantly.

“Is everything... okay?” Elijah added.

Sienna sat up and looked at them with a little bit of shock.

“Oh! Casey. Elijah. Hi.. I um, I forgot you were home first. I.. Sorry about... all that.”

“Don’t apologize for having feelings.” Casey said as she sat next to their friend

“Yeah. Everyone has them, and if you don’t let them out things get real ugly. Fast.”

“But you guys have never seen me like this before. It’s embarrassing.”

“That may be true. But Elijah and I just finished dinner. Why don’t we sit at the table. You can rant to us about everything that’s made today horrible and then afterwards we’ll watch some movies.”

“I’ll watch movies if we can finish with a Star Wars film.”

Sienna looked back and forth between her roommates, a small smile graced her delicate features.

“That... Sounds like exactly what I need actually. Do we have wine?”

“Only the best red money can buy to accompany a pasta dish.”

“You guys made pasta?!”

“Yup. And the tomato sauce was made by yours truly. So if it tastes amazing... It was all me.”

Casey laughed and playfully shoved Elijah’s shoulder as she passed him to the kitchen and put 3 plates on a tray, carrying it to the table. Elijah followed behind with the wine and the glasses, setting them out and pouring them all a glass as they settled into enjoy the meal. Sienna ate a mouthful of pasta, groaning in bliss.

“You guys. This is amazing.”

Casey and Elijah smiled at each other before turning back to their friend and accepting the compliment with a thanks, and together they all tucked in as Sienna ranted about her day. It sounded rough. She talked about how she had 2 patients die, charts getting mixed up when she knew she put them in the right places. And so much more that made her mood extremely valid. After the meal, just as Casey said, they all sat around the TV and watched movies. Sienna had made herself comfortable in a chair with her blanket. Elijah and Casey sat on the couch, Casey resting her head on Elijah’s shoulder. His heart racing at the close proximity and one question in particular raced through his mind. Does she like me too?

Elijah had liked Casey for a while but didn’t want to accidently blur the lines and ruin the good friendship they’d built. She wrapped her arms around his waist to hug him as she looked up and smiled at him. God, there it was. That sweet smile that matched the scent of her perfume perfectly. After a moment he looked down and smiled back at her as his arm naturally went round her shoulder, hugging her closer. A couple of movies passed before Sienna started falling asleep, saying goodnight to her roommates, and going to her bedroom. Jackie had made it home by now and was at the table eating her dinner. Casey and Elijah finished the movie they were watching and in that time Jackie had finished her food, disappearing to her room for the night as well. Casey sat up, stretching as the movie finished.

“I’m going to the toilet. Then I’ll grab us some more drinks and snacks so we can watch that Star Wars movie yeah?”

“Sounds great!”

Casey left to sort herself and everything out before coming back, cuddling on the couch with Elijah again. They were quite a way through the movie when Casey turned to look at Elijah after feeling his breathing change. She smiled softly and paused the movie, moving carefully to pick him up, turning round carrying him to his room to put him to bed. She then went back and cleared everything away, washed the dishes and was about to wheel Elijah’s chair to his room and leave it by his bed, when the door opened, and an extremely tired Aurora walked in.

“Hey.” Casey greeted softly.

“Hey.” Aurora smiled tiredly.

“Your dinner’s in the kitchen. Me and Elijah made tomato and basil pasta”

“Thanks. I’ll try to keep my eyes open long enough to eat it.”

The two chuckled, then Casey headed off with Elijah’s chair before going to bed herself. She had just closed her eyes when her phone rang. Groaning she answered it.

“This better be important because I just got into bed.”

“Casey... It’s Bryce. You need to come to the hospital. Now.”

Hearing the urgency in Bryce’s tone, she hung up and put her phone down. Grabbing the closest pair of sneakers, she slid her feet into them, tying the laces. Having only enough time to grab her phone and keys, before rushing out of the door. When she arrived at Edenbrook, she quickly found Bryce sitting in the main atrium with his leg in a cast and crutches beside him.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Dr. Ramsey.”

“What about him?”

“He’s in the ER going nuts!”

“Over what?”

“Nobody knows! He just stormed in and...” at a loss for words Bryce just gestured his hands.

“So why call me?”

“Dr. Banerji requested it. Not even he can calm Ethan down, and well he knows you and Ethan sort of.. just get each other.”

Sighing and pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes and rubbing, Casey sighed as she shook her head.

“I’ll see if I can help. But I’m not making any promises.”

Casey turned and headed to the ER walking through the door and was met with a wall of chaos and shouting. Looking around she found Ethan at the foot of a bed, yelling at a nurse to work faster. The nurse looked terrified as her hands trembled trying to get the IV line steady and positioned properly. Sighing she walked over and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Ethan.” She sighed sadly.

He turned and looked beside him but just shrugged Casey’s arm off. Too enraged over whatever it was to even speak back, he moved on. Casey sighed deeper knowing she’d have to bring out the theatrics.

“Ethan please.” She pleaded following him, sadness and desperation in her voice.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose he turned around. “What is it, Rookie?”

“Not here please. Somewhere... private.”

He looked down into her eyes that she had molded into perfect pools of sadness and confusion. He closed his own eyes for a brief moment, biting his lip before telling her to follow him. Together they walked towards the exit, nurses and doctors alike silently thanking her with subtle nods of their heads. They reached Ethan’s personal office and he shut the door behind them.

“What is it? What’s happened?” “That’s what I should be asking you Dr. Ramsey.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do. Why did you go into the ER and just start shouting. That isn’t you Ethan. Not even when your super stressed about a case do you do that.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I’m not the amazing person you draw me up to be Casey.”

“What? Of course you are. Okay... so you have a prickly side. But so does everyone.”

“No they don’t Casey. Not like I do.”

“Ethan please. Sto-”

“NO CASEY. YOU STOP! STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME HAPPY. STOP TRYING TO SEE THE GOOD IN ME. JUST STOP TRYING WITH ME. WHILST YOU STILL HAVE THE FUCKING CHANCE!”

She was taken aback for a moment at his harsh tone towards her but as he continued shouting, her resolve hardened, and she punched him full force in both arms. He glared at her then continued shouting. She hated resorting to it, but she pulled her hand back and with a little jump to help boost her higher, she slapped him round the face. Leaving a handprint behind. Shocked, Ethan stopped talking almost immediately and stared at her.

“Fucking finally.” She retorts annoyed, rolling her eyes.

“Did you... Did you just JUMP to slap me?”

“So what if I did. You needed to shut the fuck up so you can listen.”

For about another hour, they sat and hashed out what was making Ethan so angry in that moment. At the end of it he was exhausted and yawning like a baby.

“You should get home Ethan. Get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“I guess so.” He said as he let out another yawn. “Let me drop you home though. You shouldn’t be walking alone at this time of night.

“Thanks.” Casey smiled sweetly and headed to the atrium to wait for him to change and come down.

“Ah! Dr. Valentine.”

Casey turned at the mention of her name and saw a brightly smiling but very tired eyed Dr. Banerji walking towards her.

“Dr. Valentine. Thank you for coming here so late. I know it’s a terrible inconvenience.”

“No. It’s no trouble at all. Anything for my friends.” she replied, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

“As a thank you, don’t worry about starting your next shift at 7am. Come in for 1pm. You need the rest you deserve, and it is late.”

“Oh, Dr. Banerji... I- I don’t know if I can...”

“Nonsense. I’ve already watched Ethan do this. I’m not letting you do it too. You’re going home and you’re going to rest. And by rest I mean sleep.”

Casey opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she saw Ethan coming over and just gave a smile and curt nod to Naveen. After saying goodbye’s and Naveen turning down a lift home from Ethan about 6 times, Casey left with her mentor and they headed to her apartment. Ethan parked on the curb and said one more thank you to Casey before they shared a hug, Casey heading inside. When she got to her room, she fell into her bed and went to sleep instantly.

The next day it was close to 10:25am when Casey stumbled tiredly from her room, heading to the kitchen to get coffee before getting ready for work. She knew Naveen had said 1pm, but she was up earlier than that so she may as well head in as soon as she can.

“Casey?” Elijah questioned as he came out the kitchen with a drink of his own.

“Oh. Hey Eli” she smiled with a yawn.

“I thought you started at 7 today? You’re late.”

“No.” Casey shook her head. “I got called to the hospital last night after you fell asleep. Dr. Banerji all but ordered I go in for 1pm.”

Elijah chuckled. That sounded exactly like Naveen.

“In that case. Could we talk about something before you leave?”

“Could I get my coffee first?”

“Obviously. I’m not a monster”

Casey grinned and went into the kitchen, brewing herself a cup of coffee before joining Elijah on the couch they shared the previous night.

“So. What’s going on Dr. Greene?” she smiled, sipping her coffee

“Well... Are you good with feelings talk?”

“I talk with patients about them all the time. I’m all ears. Whatever it’s about.”

Elijah hesitated before sighing deeply, trouble clouding his eyes.

“The thing here is. It’s about you. And my feelings regarding you.”

“Oh. Have I done something to upset you? Was I supposed to remove your jeans before tucking you in?”

“So that’s how I got to my room. I thought I’d fell asleep elsewhere.” Elijah chuckled. “But no. it’s nothing bad.”

Casey sighed a breath of relief but then confusion crossed her face. “Then what is it?”

“I.... I think I should just come out and say it. I like you Casey. And not just as a friend. I like like you.”

Casey sat in stunned silence as she reveled in his admission. She too had felt something between them. She just wasn’t sure what it was, so never acted upon it beyond a friendship. Though she had no idea he felt the same way. If she even felt what he was feeling that is.

“Casey...”

“Hm? Oh yeah. I’m still here.”

“Are you... okay?”

“I’m fine.” She reassured and drank more of her coffee, watching as Elijah’s face fell.

“You don’t feel the same do you?”

“Elijah-”

“And I’ve just ruined our friendship by admitting my feelings.”

“No Elijah you ha-”

“This was stupid of me. Why would you want to date the guy in the wheelchair? When you can have any number of fully able bodied men at the hospital who could ta-”

“Elijah. Will you stop?!” Casey placed her mug back on the table and grabbed his hands, pulling herself closer to him. He stopped rambling and looked up into her eyes before grinning sheepishly.

“Sorry.” He apologized

“I... I feel something for you.”

“Y-you do?!”

“Yeah. I... just don’t know what it is.”

Elijah looked at their hands briefly before looking back up.

“Would you want to... go on a date?”

“I.... Yeah. I’d like that.” She smiled. Elijah smiled back at her, squeezing her hand lightly and she squeezed back.

“After my shift? I finish at 9:30, maybe we could make a last minute plan to do something?”

“How about I cook for us.”

“Elijah you cooked last night.”

“Not for the whole apartment. Just for us, silly.”

Casey smiled, blushing lightly at her early morning dumbness.

“Oh right. ... Of course.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Nope. You make the choices. I’ll just enjoy the meal, and the company.”

Elijah smiled at her one last time before they hugged and Casey got ready for work, heading out to catch the train across town. She arrived at Edenbrook and strolled up to the diagnostics office, she entered the room as the team was in the middle of a differential.

“Nice for you to finally join us, Dr. Valentine.” Ethan commented with a soft smile

“Sorry, Dr. Ramsey. I was on a train when you paged.”

The team gave her a baffled look before shrugging and getting back to work, filling Casey in. Nothing was going to bring her down. Well... unless something really tragic happened of course. But for now she was going to focus on work and her date with Elijah later that evening.

Later that night she was about to clock out when a nurse came running up to her.

“Dr. Valentine!”

She turned to them, fully alert.

“Sarah? What is it?”

“It’s Dr. Varma. Quick.”

Eyes widening she followed Sarah to where Jackie was leaning against the wall, hyperventilating and sweating profusely.

“Jackie?”

Casey looked on worriedly as Jackie could only spare a quick 1 second glance before looking at the floor again and passing out as she breathlessly said 2 words. “I’m..... fine....” then her world went black, Casey rushing to close the short distance between them before she hit the floor.

“Sarah I need you to find a spare bed asap. I’ll page for help.”

Nodding, Sarah rushed off in search of a free bed, whilst Casey paged Baz and Zaid for help. Within minutes the twin doctors were there as Sarah came back with a bed, stopping it beside Jackie and applying the breaks. Together Baz and Zaid lifted her onto the bed, making sure she was comfortable and covered with a blanket.

“Casey. What happened?” Baz asked

“I don’t know. I was about to clock out, then head off home to get ready for my date tonight. That’s when Sarah ran up to me, informing me something was wrong with Dr. Varma. I arrived on scene seconds later, she seemed to be having a panic attack. All I got from her were the words “I’m fine.” before she passed out.”

“Well clearly, she wasn’t fine!” Zaid snapped.

“Alright bro, calm down please. She isn’t a doctor right now. She’s a patient. We need to treat her as such.”

Zaid wiped his hands over his face with a sigh, knowing his brother was right. He turned to Casey and gave her a tight nod.

“We’ll take it from here. Don’t keep your date waiting. Go.”

Shocked, Casey left the room and the hospital before Zaid could change his mind. She got outside and quickly caught up with Bryce.

“Don’t tell me you actually went to work today.” She chuckled

He turned his head to her and gave a smile. “Of course I did! Not even a broken leg will stop these magic hands from saving lives. Give me a chair and I’m fine.”

Casey laughed brightly beside him as they stopped before parting ways.

“Never change Bryce Lahela. Never change.”

“I don’t plan on it.” He grinned.

Casey grinned back and then they said goodbye to each other and headed home. When she walked inside, Casey smelt something delicious but didn’t dare go to the kitchen and peak, so instead she headed straight to her room grabbing a towel, and getting in the shower instead to wash off the sweat and grime from the days work. After that she felt refreshed, and ready for her date night with Elijah. She opened her closet looking for something to wear, when that feeling settled in. She clutched her stomach and closed her eyes tightly trying to will the butterflies away, but she couldn’t. She was nervous and turning into a sweaty mess. She didn’t want to mess this up. She looked through her dresses, but they all seemed too professional for a date. So she turned to another section, skimming through when she gasped. She smiled at the navy blue jumpsuit with a gold waistbelt. “I forgot I had this.” she muttered to herself as she took it out and off the hanger. This is what she would wear. She put it on, done her hair and makeup then picked out a cute pair of sneakers to pair with the outfit. There was no way her feet would fit back into another pair of heels now. She sat on her bed picking up her phone as it dinged. She smiled when she saw a message from Jackie. Thank goodness she was going to be okay. She typed out a quick reply as a knock sounded on her door. Placing her phone on the bedside table, she opened the door to Elijah who was dressed in a dress shirt and tie, his regular jeans dressing the look down a little but still ensuring he looked somewhat formal. His jaw dropped as he drank in Casey’s appearance. She giggled a little as his eyes roamed her body in a show of adoration.

“Hi.” She smiled

“You’re absolutely gorgeous...”

In the moment of silence that followed, Casey blushed as Elijah continued to stare at her in awe. She cleared her throat briefly then resumed her smile.

“You look very handsome tonight.”

“Yeah... But compared to you... Ahem. Excuse me... Um, dinner’s ready.” He smiled shyly

“After you.” She smiled and followed him to their dining table where he had set up the cutest romantic scene she’d seen in a while.

“Oh! Elijah.. this is...”

“Is it too much?”

“No.” she said shaking her head. “It’s beautiful.”

Elijah grinned and helped Casey into her seat, plates of steaming hot food already at the table. It looked delicious. Chicken fillets, potatoes, vegetable, gravy. It was then Casey realized how hungry she was as her stomach growled loudly, causing a furious blush to spread up her neck and onto her cheeks.

“Uh.. sorry about that. I haven’t really stopped today..” she said shyly, and Elijah chuckled.

“It’s okay.” He reassured and they dug into the meal. After a few bites, Elijah spoke up again. “Is it okay?”

Casey nodded as she swallowed the bite she just took. “I’m not just saying this because we’re on a date. It’s delicious! The flavors are amazing!”

He grinned brightly at her comment and they finished the main dish.

“Dessert?” he asked, taking a sip of wine.

“Did you make some?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’d love some!” Casey smiled and Elijah took their plates to the kitchen and came back with two bowls of dessert, placing Casey’s in front of her first. She gasped when she saw what it was.

“Eli?!”

“Yeah?” he asked with a smile as he put his own bowl on the table.

“You... You remembered?” She said, choking on her emotion. Elijah just smiled with a nod in response, Casey leaning over the table and kissing his cheek making him freeze momentarily before smiling shyly and blushing as they dug into their chocolate cake and cream. The rest of the night went smoothly, conversation flowing freely. They quizzed each other on their medical knowledge during dessert, then moved to the couch where they told each other more about their home lives, and growing up. As the night drew to a close Elijah smiled at Casey.

“I guess I should walk you home.”

“How gentlemanly of you.” Casey grinned as she rose to her feet. Together they made their way to Casey’s room.

“Well...” She smiled, pointing to her bedroom door. “This is me.”

They came to a stop and smiled at each other.

“I had a wonderful time tonight Casey.”

“Me too. You’re a great guy Eli. Would you... want to do this again sometime?”

“Yes! ... I mean, yes. I’d love to do this again.”

Casey smiled brightly, bending down and giving him a kiss on the lips good night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said softly opening her door.

“Y-yeah. See you tomorrow Case.”

He watched as Casey went into her room and shut the door. He stared at the closed door for a while as he touched his lips, still feeling hers present before smiling to himself.

“Goodnight Casey!” he called through the door, it opened again, and Casey poked her head out.

“Goodnight Elijah.” She replied with a smile then shut her door.

That night Elijah went to bed with a smile on his face, knowing he’d hit the jackpot and was now dating the most beautiful doctor at Edenbrook.

#playchoices #pixelberry studios #choices stories you play #dr elijah greene #elijah greene #pixelberry open heart #open heart fanfictions #open heart elijah #elijah x casey #elijah greene fanfiction

21 notes · View notes

miscellaneous--musings · 4 years

Text

Nightmares

Detroit: Become Human

Detroit: Evolution

Reed900

A/N: Since Detroit: Evolution has taken over my life, it only makes sense that I make a fic about those two boys. So this fic is based off the film Detroit: Evolution so some information may be confusing if you haven’t watched it yet. If you ship Reed900 I highly recommend watching it. It’s an hour and fifteen minutes and free on YouTube. It’s so good and very pure and full of good representation. But here is the fic.

Word Count: 3,043

Gavin gave the handcuffed criminal a particularly hard shove to get him to walk forward into the station. Nines walked behind, keeping an eye on the criminal to ensure he didn’t try to break from Gavin’s grip and run off. “Fucking cops.” The man in questions was shouting. “You’re fucking useless.”

Gavin immediately spun the man so he was pressed face first against a wall. “Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Gavin snarled. “You’re going to stop fucking around and walk nice and quiet to the interrogation room.” He yanked the man away from the wall and roughly guided him to an interrogation room. Nines watched as Gavin forced the man into a chair and attached the cuffs to the table.

Then he walked out of the room and let out a sigh. Nines placed his hands on Gavin’s shoulders. He gave a gentle squeeze before running his hands down Gavin’s arms. “You need to relax.” He said. “No need to get unnecessarily rough.”

“I know.” Gavin sighed. Nines brought up a hand and rested it on Gavin’s cheek. Gavin leaned into the touch. “He’s just a dick.”

Nines gave a small, understanding smile. “Will you be ok interrogating him alone?” Nines asked.

Gavin swatted Nines’ hand away gently. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Alright. Chris asked me to take a look at some files.” Nines leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Gavin’s lips. Then he left Gavin to do the interrogation.

Gavin yawned as the pair entered his apartment. They closed a case today, which meant that Gavin’s stress levels weren’t that high. Nines felt better knowing Gavin wasn’t stressed out after work. Nines went to the kitchen to make dinner. Gavin followed. He didn’t help much. In fact he sat on top of the counter and was more distracting than anything.

Any time Nines walked by, he tried to pull him in for a kiss. He succeeded quite a few times, mostly because Nines let him. As Nines finished up, Gavin hopped down and got drinks from the fridge. Nines could eat, but often didn’t. He did have a thirium based drink every night though so he would sit at the table with Gavin.

While Gavin wouldn’t help cook dinner, he would always wash the dishes that couldn’t go in his dishwasher. Nines would grab a towel to dry them off. After dinner, their evenings were completely free.

They would watch a TV show or movie, Gavin was convinced he needed to educate Nines on all things pop culture. Sometimes Nines would read a book. He could read them at top speed but could enjoy them more reading them at an average reading speed. Gavin would play a video game and could sometimes convince Nines to play as well. They were often on teams unless Gavin was feeling particularly competitive. But every time the play against each other, Nines would always win.

This particular night was spent with Gavin playing a game while Nines read. Nines often slung his arm around Gavin’s shoulder, just like tonight. Gavin eventually turned off the game before turning the news on. He leaned against Nines as he watched. He looked over at Nines and decided he didn’t actually care about the news. He smirked knowing that Nines would know exactly what page he was on in his book.

He turned to Nines, grabbed the book and dropped it on the coffee table in front of the couch. He leaned up and kissed Nines soundly. Nines smiled against Gavin’s lips, bringing his left hand up to rest on Gavin’s cheek as usual. The synthetic skin on Nines’ hand had retracted, the lack of control always obvious.

Gavin moved so he was essentially kneeling on the couch facing Nines, his legs on either side of his boyfriend. He was honest when he told Nines he didn’t face about having sex. But he did like having physical contact with Nines. And Nines never protested Gavin being close. Eventually Nines pulled back though. “Let’s get to bed. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

Gavin raised a brow. “Are you guessing or scanning?”

“You asked me to stop scanning you.”

“Did you actually listen?”

“Ok, I still scan you.” He leaned forward to give Gavin a small kiss as an apology. “It’s only because I worry about you.” Gavin rolled his eyes. Then Nines slid his hands under Gavin’s thighs and lifted him from the couch as he stood up. He not so gracefully dropped Gavin on the bed, only because it got a small smile from Gavin.

Nines changed into a black t-shirt and black gym shorts, given to him by Gavin. Gavin wore a tank top and gym shorts as well. Gavin clung to Nines, uncharacteristically touchy. Nines said nothing about it, trusting Gavin to tell him if something was bothering him. As Nines sense Gavin was drifting off, he slipped into stasis.

It was no longer a garden. It varied though. Sometimes it was Gavin’s apartment, complete with the cat prowling around. Other times it was the police department. Occasionally it was Connor and Hank’s home or the bar downtown that the police officers often went to. It changes depending on what he was doing. He was simply sorting through information tonight so during stasis he was in Gavin’s apartment still.

He only came out from stasis as he felt Gavin still moving around. He thought he was asleep. So he opened his eyes and looked over to Gavin. “Oh sorry.” Gavin said as Nines caugh him staring. “I don’t often get to see you sleeping.”

“Technically, you’ve never seen my sleeping because androids don’t sleep.”

“Oh I know. Shut up.” Gavin said with no real malice. He kissed Nines against to ensure he was quiet. As they broke apart, Gavin turned so his back was to Nines. In response, Nines curled around Gavin, his chest to Gavin’s back.

Nines monitored Gavin’s vitals, noting that he never actually fell asleep for longer than a few minutes. He never got real sleep. Again, he didn’t push it. If Gavin wanted to talk about it, he would.

Gavin was irritable the next day. He at least thanked Nines when a coffee was brought to him though. He was mostly polite to Nines, but even Nines could pick up on subtle attitude changes which proved he was short tempered.

He yelled at Hank, who thankfully didn’t add fuel to the fire. Nines short the lieutenant an apologetic look, which Hank nodded to in understanding. He spent an extended break talking to officer Chen. And he was rather unmotivated to work. Eventually Fowler sent them a new case. An case of a kid suspected of running Red Ice for a larger operation.

Gavin worked on it with renewed vigor. He even brought the case files home with him. He took a break for dinner but dove right back in after washing dishes. Nines watched him work, adding input when asked. He knew why this case was important to Gavin. He sympathized. Eventually Nines kissed Gavin’s cheek. “We should get to bed.”

Gavin waved him off. “I’m busy.”

“Gavin, I can work the case while you sleep.” Nines offered. “And share any intel I find. But you need to sleep. I know you didn’t sleep well last night either. I didn’t mention it because I figured you’d talk to me if you needed to.”

“Well you figured right. And I’m not talking. So I’m fine. And I’m fine right now. I’m not that tired.”

“Gavin, please. A few hours maybe?” Nines bargained.

“I’m fine, Nines!” Gavin practically shouted.

Both men stilled. Outburst weren’t uncommon. Gavin had them often, but neither man enjoyed when they happened. Gavin gelt guilty, and Nines got mad himself when Gavin would lash out at them. “Sorry.” Gavin mumbled. “But I’m not going to bed.”

“Fine.” Nines said. Nines made himself comfortable on the couch, not intending to go into stasis if Gavin was going to go down a self-destructive path. He didn’t actually need to go into stasis every night anyway.

“You can go into stasis or whatever you do.” Gavin said, not looking away from the files.

“Unlike humans that require sleep,” Nines said pointedly. “I do not need to go into stasis every night. I’ll be fine. I hope you will be too.” Gavin grumbled but didn’t give an intelligible response. Later, when Gavin looked at Nines and asked for a coffee, Nines considered not getting it. But Gavin had said please and looked so tired that Nines actually gave in and brought him one from the kitchen. But after that, he refused.

Gavin grumbled as he went to go get his second cup of the evening. To his credit, Nines couldn’t detect him saying anything bad about the android. Mostly just grumbling about being unable to stay awake all night and the stupid human need to sleep.

He got back on the couch and kept going through the files. He made a list of family and friends to contact. He made a list of people who he was more recently contacting. He looked into the kid’s past, he grumbled something about a most likely abusive family member.

Gavin leaned back against Nines at some point. Nines wanted to push him away, tell him that Gavin needs to go to bed. But he also loves Gavin and can’t stand to push him away. So he wrapped his arm around Gavin’s waist and held him close while Gavin kept working.

“Hey, Nines.” Gavin said, clearly still reading case files. “I want your opinion on this.” He started. Nines rolled his eyes and moved the arm the was around Gavin’s waist so he could cover Gavin’s mouth instead. It earned him a questioning and offended glare from Gavin. It was very ineffective with Nines’ hand covering his mouth though.

“Look, Gavin. I’m done arguing that you should go to bed. You know what I think but clearly I can’t change your mind. But I am not going to help you with this self-destructive behavior. I will help you with this case during work hours. But while you are staying awake for the second night in a row, I won’t help you.” He removed his hand from Gavin’s mouth and snaked his arm around his boyfriend’s waist once more.

Gavin gave Nines a look. “So you’re just gonna sit there silently?”

“Until you agree to get some sleep or our normal waking time come, yes.”

“Fine.” Gavin snarled. But he didn’t move away either.

The rest of the night was quiet. Gavin would doze on and off, never for long either. But finally the morning came and Nines got up from the couch. He made coffee and brought it to Gavin. “We talking now?” Gavin asked as he took the cup.

“This is the time which we would usually be waking up for work. So since it’s no longer time in which you should be sleeping, then I think it’s fine to act as we normally do.” Nines explained. “May I at least suggested you shower before work today?”

Gavin took another gulp of his coffee then set the cup down. “Yeah, ok.” Gavin stood up. He paused in front of Nines then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Nines’ lips. Nines gave a small smile. Then Gavin went to shower. Nines’ LED spun yellow as he composed a text to Captain Fowler.

The pair headed to work and Nines was grateful that their usual banter returned during their car ride. He knew Gavin’s mood was going to go south as soon as they got to work. And sure enough, the minute Gavin set his bag down, Fowler shouted for Reed to report to his office.

Tina came over and watched Gavin argue with Fowler in his office. “What did Gavin do this time?” She asked.

Nines let out a small shrug and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nothing. But he hasn’t actually slept in 48 hours. I informed Fowler, although Gavin doesn’t know that I did that. Fowler will most definitely send him home. Then, hopefully I can convince him to get at least some sleep.”

“Good luck.” Tina said. “That boy can be difficult some times. But I guess you’re equipped to handle him.” She nudged Nines.

Nines gave a small smile in return. Tina retreated to her desk as soon as Gavin stormed out the office. “Son of bitch.” He muttered under his breath.

��What’s wrong, Gavin?” Nines asked, playing dumb.

“Fowler said my work the past two days has been ‘less than satisfactory.’ So he sending me home today. Said I can’t work if I’m not at my best. So this kid’s case has to sit still for 24 hours.”

“You’re no use to him in the state you’re in anyway, Gavin.” Nines said. “I’ll take the day off as well.”

“You don’t like taking days off.” Gavin accused.

“But I like being with you.” Nines said with a smile. “And I want to ensure you sleep.”

Gavin didn’t say anything but snatched his stuff and stormed out of the station. Nines followed behind, far calmer than Gavin. The car ride home was not at all like the one on the ay to work. It was silent and Gavin was fuming. Nines wanted to say something to break the silence but didn’t know what to say. Especially since anything could make Gavin angry.

Back at home Gavin dropped his stuff on the couch. He went a grabbed a beer from the fridge. Nines saw and immediately grabbed the beer before Gavin even opened it. He put it back in the fridge, ignoring Gavin’s protests. “Go lay down, Gavin.” Nines ordered. “You’ll feel better in the morning if you sleep instead of drinking yourself unconscious.” Gavin didn’t say anything. “Come on.” Nines led Gavin to the room by the hand.

Gavin reluctantly changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas. He laid down but didn’t make any effort to actually sleep. Nines laid down beside Gavin and grabbed his hand. “Sleep, Gavin.” He requested. Nines laid down and pulled Gavin down with him. Gavin fell asleep only minutes after Nines began rubbing his back.

Gavin had only been asleep for about an hour when he started shifting in his sleep. He let out a distressed noise. He seemed to mumble a word but Nines couldn’t make it out. Nines sat up and placed a hand on Gavin’s chest. “Gavin. Wake up.” He urged. “It’s not real. Wake up.”

Gavin’s eyes shot open. “Nines?” He propped himself up so he could sit and lean against the headboard.

“Yes.” Nines said. “I’m here. Just like always.” He reassured Gavin with his small smile. “Same dream?”

Gavin huffed. “Yeah.” He paused. “Well, close enough anyway.” Nines raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mention it before, cause it didn’t seem important. But while I’m laying in the snow and dying, I’m calling out for Fowler. My brain knows he should be showing up, but he doesn’t. So I’m trying to call out, my voice is scratchy and barely works. I’m fucking coughing up blood. And Fowler never shows, no matter how much I call.” His voice was soft as to not disrupt the quiet environment of the room.

Nines said nothing, letting Gavin explain and talk through what was bothering him. “The thing about this dream, the reason I hate it, is that I feel like no one gives a shit about me. I die with no one there. No one comes to help me.”

“You know that people care about you, Gavin. Fowler, Tina, Chris, Me.” He rattled off.

“Yeah, I know that Nines.” He said. “But in the dream, it doesn’t feel like it as I die. And Like I said, I usually call out for Fowler but he never comes. It was different tonight.” Gavin grabbed Nines’ hand. He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable sharing this. Nines let his thumb rub back and forth on Gavin’s hand, hopefully soothing him. “Tonight I kept calling out for you.” His grip tightened. “And you never fucking showed.”

Nines removed his hand from Gavin’s, only to pull Gavin in close and kiss the top of his head. “Gavin, as long as I am able, I will always come to your aid. Just like you did for me. I would never leave you to die.”

Gavin sighed. “I know, Nines. But shit, that nightmare makes me feel alone.”

“You aren’t alone now. And, as long as you put up with me, you won’t ever be.” Nines assured him. He kissed the top of Gavin’s head again. “What brought on this nightmare?” The last time this happened was when they met Lazzo, a young man close to having a past like Gavin’s. It couldn’t be just the new case. Gavin refused to sleep the night before they got the case.

“The suspect we brought in a few days ago.” Gavin answered.

“What?” Nines asked, his LED spinning yellow in confusion.

“During the interrogation he like digging into the fact that I was alone while I questioned him. He liked making comments that I had no one watching my back. It was just a bunch of shit talking, but I knew that the minute I tried to sleep that everything he said would manifest into this dream. Then throw our news case in there and I knew I’d have the damn dream again.”

“Gavin?”

“Yeah, Nines?”

“You should really try to sleep some more.”

“Really?” Gavin asked around a huffed out laugh. “I bare my fucking soul to you and that’s your response?” His words weren’t hostile, his playful tone coated the question.

“Yes, because like I said, I am right here. And I plan to stay here. So you can rest easy and know that I mean what I said. As long as I am able, I will always come to you.”

“I know Nines.” Gavin said, resting head on Nines’ chest. “You already did once, back at Cyberlife. I called to you and you came to me.”

“And I will always continue to.” Another soft kiss to Gavin’s head. “Sweet dreams, Gavin.”

#detroit become human #detroit evolution #dbh gavin #gavin reed #rk900 #detroit: nines #reed900 #gavin x rk900

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anotherbeingsworld · 4 years

Text

Letters from the Past

Pairing: Bryce x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Book: Open Heart

Word Count: 1929

Summary: Casey stumbles to her past letters whilst cleaning especially a particular one. (The letter will be in italic form)

Rating/Warning: FLUFF/None

Link to my MASTERLIST.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Casey Valentine is starting her daily routine by finishing up house chores on her day off. As a doctor, she rarely has off days. But, when one occurred she would take the chance to finish up her duties. Both, Casey and Bryce, managed to score the same off days which giving them a chance to catch up on lost time with their son, Louis who is already 5 years old.

The three of them would work together to complete the chores, even Louis would insist on holding the broom as Casey sweeps on the floor. Bryce would take on the heavy stuff such as wiping the windows. But, for the day a major task Casey wanted to tackle was to finally clear up the attic of their home. Casey and Bryce managed to get themselves a house with 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms before Louis was born. It has been their home ever since.

Casey takes a deep breath as she made her way to the attic, which is quite dusty. She recalled the last time she was here is to store some of Louis’s baby stuff which is either two or three years ago. Casey tries to find her way to the nearest light switch but failed miserably as she felt a strong pair of arms were wrapped around her, making her scream in fear.

‘Got you!’ Bryce cheered as Casey glared at her.

‘That is not funny Bryce!’ She crossed her arms at him.

‘Aw, I’m sorry.’ Bryce pleads with his puppy dog eyes which managed to make her smile.

‘You are lucky that I am your wife.’

‘Yep, I am glad you are mine.’ Bryce placed his arms around her waist and placed a small kiss on her cheek as she blushed from the action.

‘Okay, okay. As much as I love your display of affection towards me, we have a huge task in front of us.’ Casey gestures the room around her.

‘Cleaning the attic. Goodness, I never realized we have so much stuff in here.’ Bryce commented in disbelief as he took the surroundings.

‘I think most of the stuff was from Louis’s early days. Either that or it is the stuff from your apartment.’ Her eyes scanned the room towards the boxes that were stacked on top of one another.

Bryce and Casey decide to divide and conquer, as he was working on the right side of the room whilst Casey works on the opposite. She was digging through the boxes, feeling fascinated by each item she founds which includes, some of Louis’s early baby rompers which made her squeal in delight, some old knickknacks from their trips together, a box filled with holiday decorations that are needed to be set somewhere they can see for future use. After a long moment of examining every found item, Casey felt herself let out a gasp as she found a familiar box, which is sealed perfectly. She felt herself staring at it in disbelief, her hands shaking as she started to open it. There it was, the letters. Her letters from the past, some of the important events had taken place when she wrote each of the letters’. She felt herself staring at the letters, after all these years.

‘Cas? Should we throw out the old costumes from years ago?’ Bryce shouted from the other side of the room, but he didn’t get a response. He stands up from his spot and makes her way to Casey. She was seen sitting down on the floor still clutching those letters in her hands.

‘Hey Cas, you okay?’ Bryce took a seat beside her, as his eyes fall on her.

‘Yeah, I found these, and… it’s been a while since I have seen them.’ Casey gestures towards the letters that she uncovers.

‘These are the letters you mentioned before right? The one and I quote, you write during ‘special occasions’.’ Bryce added a quoted gesture as he took one of the letters from the box.

‘First Day at Edenbrook’ Bryce reads the words written on top of it, as Casey felt herself redden remembering her first kiss with Bryce at Donahue’s during her first day at the job.

‘That is one of the ‘special occasions’ I’m talking about, it’s the first day of me being a doctor; a special day for me. A start of something special.’ Casey said as her gaze falls towards Bryce who smiles at her, as he placed a kiss on her knuckles.

Casey tears the letter off and started to read it. As those words were rolled on her tongue, the memories flooded back in her mind as Bryce is listening to her every word.

Feb 29, 2019.

It is here, my first day working at Edenbrook! I am super excited that I couldn’t help myself smiling as I walk through the hospital halls after getting my ID. The doctor who was in charge named Dr. Ines Delorasa was super nice, and it helps me on easing my nerves a little. But, something unexpected occurred. There was an emergency happening in the lobby as a woman was suddenly unconscious. I felt the need to help, and one thing that flew through my mind is, the fact that my moment is happening. It’s right now, as I checked the woman’s vitals feeling a strike of nerve inside of me. I felt a presence and saw a male doctor who is looking a bit tense. I took a deep breath, before figuring out the situation which is a hemothorax after a few blank slate which I am not proud off. After all the commotion, my adrenaline was still pumping as the woman was brought into surgery. Honestly, I would never get tired of doing this for a career. Despite my heroic save, I managed to end up getting chewed by Dr. Ethan Ramsey and my scrubs were ruined on the first day.

‘And that’s how Casey Valentine meets the legendary Bryce Lahela in the locker room.’ Bryce winks at her interrupting her reading.

‘You still remember it?’ Casey questioned him, as the details from that day were crystal clear.

‘Of course, I was displaying this magnificent bod when we first meet and that’s where you fall in love with this…’ Bryce stood up and gestured his figure as she just shook her head with a light chuckle escaping her lips.

‘Whatever you say Bryce.’ She replied as she continues reading it.

It’s a good start for the day, sarcastically speaking. After changing into a pair of clean digs, I finally got a chance to meet my first patient, Annie! She was the sweetest, and somehow I am glad I got to keep her company for the day since somehow I felt alone in the job at the moment. We were talking but, the worst had happened; she falls unconscious. CODE BLUE. I felt myself getting anxious as I never expected it to happen, but honestly; the medicine world is full of mysteries. I panicked, and fortunately, Jackie was there able to help me recover Annie, which unfortunately lead me to be chewed again by Dr. Ramsey for the second time. Goodness at that moment, I wanted to quit so bad.

‘If you ever quit, us would never happen. That thought is mind-blowing.’ Bryce mimes a meme he saw online, where everything goes boom; mindblown.

‘Well, one almost felt like quitting after getting chewed by your medical hero. Not once, but twice.’ Casey sighed remembering her old days before, but she didn’t regret being called out. She learned from it and honestly, she wouldn’t be a good doctor without it. She quickly makes a mental note to thank Dr. Ramsey for it soon as she continues.

At that moment, the words from Dr. Ramsey sting as I make my way to the empty supply closet. I thought the myth of crying on your first day of work was something that only happens in tv shows but this is real. I sobbed my way through the moment when the door creaked open, it was one of the moments where I wished I could cast a spell and become invisible but nope, I had to face him. He sat beside me, as I wipe the tears away. We sat silently, as he started to ask. I told him everything because, at that moment, it felt right. And, he listened. One thing he said, had stuck to me today is ‘If you don’t give a chance to make mistakes to get better, nobody else will.’ It stuck with me until now, and it somehow helps. We ended up hugging, and well… one thing leads into another as I started to kissed him, and we ended up getting interrupted by Dr. Mirani, which is not my finest moment, unfortunately. But, it somehow felt like the start of something special, and that day where I start to trust magical beginnings or perhaps. Just magic, in the way life works.

Love,

Casey.

Bryce lets out a laugh as she finishes,

‘You sign your name for a letter that you won’t send?’

‘I am a classy lady, and signing a letter with my name makes it feel a bit more special.’ Casey sticks her tongue out at him.

‘Alright Mr.s Lahela, you know I never regret kissing you in the supply closet before…’ Bryce said with a smirk on his face.

‘I’m glad you don’t, after that moment… I somehow feel myself falling for you and let’s just say, I was silently waiting for more.’ Casey felt a blush crept on her face over her statement.

‘Don’t worry Cas, you got me for life. I can’t wait to tell Louis about how an incident brought his parents together. It would be one hell of a story.’ Bryce stated with a proud expression on his face.

‘It’s not an incident, I happened to face a lot of unfortunate events that day and somehow a miracle came thru and later become my very own husband.’ Casey places her arms around his waist pulling him into her embrace.

‘Here’s to all the unfortunate events that brought us together. That day, I somehow feel like you are something special and I am glad to be yours now, forever and always.’ He said as their foreheads were touching.

‘I am glad to be yours as well.’ They stood that way for a while as they remember how far they have come from their first encounter until an ecstatic shout brought them back to real life.

They heard footsteps coming up the stairs, as they glanced and saw Louis looking excitedly at both of them followed by an exasperated Keiki who is smiling as she is catching up with the energetic Louis Keili Lahela who resembles his mother, but at the same time inherit both Bryce’s beautiful brown eyes and smile.

‘Mom, dad! Aunt Keiki and I made a huge Lego tower! ’ His voice chimed through the attic leaving an echo.

‘I did most of the part, but the little guy is getting the hang of it.’ Keiki said with a wink as Louis ended up running away once more making her race towards him in a playful manor.

Casey and Bryce smile at the sight, as he pulled her into an embrace as they get back to work.

‘Duty calls.’ He said before going back to his position in the attic as Casey placed the letter back and smile at how far their journey had grown and honestly, it’s one of the best adventures in her life.

THE END.

A/N: Hi! I have a new fic, and I am pretty excited about this one! Its one of my favorite, and I really enjoy the concept. I think writing letters is a favorite aesthetic, I should call it? This idea has been flying in my mind for a while, so why not.Honestly, whilst writing this; i feel much better now and I guess I am feeling a bit happy too since my last fic (which is a few days ago, lol but it feels good now.) I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for reading it! - A

Tags: @soederberg ; @choicessa ; @mvalentine ; @storyofmychoices ; @dcbbw ; @bitchloveskcbaseball ; @n-whas ; @annekebbphotography ; @mrsbhandari ; @princess-geek ; @aylamwrites

#bryce x mc #bryce lahela #playchoices #open heart #open heart fics #casey valentine #bryce x casey #open heart second year #choices fics

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abri-chan · 4 years

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17. “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world.” - Prosciutto/reader

Let Death Not Do Us Apart

[I went F/M with this one, but I’m trying different genders for different prompts. Let me know if you’d like me to rewrite or change.

[Full text below, and if you want to view on !AO3!]

Prosciutto opened the front door slowly, then entered the apartment with cautious steps.

“Prosci?” a drowsy voice called out from the end of the room.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you,” he replied, slipping off his shoes.

“No—it’s fine.”

The apartment was fashioned in a modern style; the entrance opened to a large salon that merged the living room and kitchen into one, and the rest of the corridor led into the private area where the bedroom and studio were located. A big corner sofa ran along two of the salon walls, sectioning off a low glass-top coffee-table with a TV set in front. It was on the right end of the sofa that you had fallen asleep, and presently laid awoken by Prosciutto’s return.

Prosciutto hung his jacket on the metal coat-rack next to the door. “You don’t have to wait for me on the sofa,” he said, crossing the room to your side. He knelt down on the velvet carpet and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, rubbing your blanket-covered arm after. “It’s not comfortable.”

“…came back from practice a little while ago,” you whispered still half-asleep, curling under the blanket for warmth.

“I’ll carry you back to bed.”

He was close enough now that you could smell the fresh citrus scent of shampoo, and you understood at once what it meant. Prosciutto was particular about what he would and would not bring home, and in your time there you never saw a trace of blood or dirt that would tie him to his work with Passione. Pesci on the other hand took the brunt of it, having to accommodate his brother’s spare clothes and even personal care products in his lodgings.

Prosciutto smelled too clean, and that meant he got caught up in a mission. “Are you—are you alright?” you asked now fully awake.

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, bringing the blanket down to your legs. A glass balcony door stood behind the TV set, and the drapes were pulled to the side letting in enough city light through the sheer curtains. In the dim light, you could see he hadn’t bothered to braid his hair after leaving Pesci’s apartment.

“Of course I’m alright,” Prosciutto boasted, and in the darkness you heard the triumph in his voice although you couldn’t quite make it out on his face. “Or would you rather check for yourself?” he teased, standing up and taking a seat next to you.

“Maybe I will,” you chuckled. “I’m not practicing to become a doctor for nothing.——Ah, I should show you what my father sent us. I left it in the studio.” The salon lights turned on as you rose, but you weren’t quite startled; it was a recurring trick with Prosciutto—convenient, and sometimes you wished you could see what he often called a stand. “I’ll be right back, then.”

Left alone on the sofa, Prosciutto’s eyes travelled to the scattered books and notes laid atop the coffee-table. Medicine didn’t interest him, but he took interest in you, and sometimes would flip through a book or two, memorizing random facts.

“He just finished carving this. I don’t get the religious tones, but it’s beautifully done. Where do you think——”

You stopped beside the left end of the sofa and broke off. Prosciutto turned the photo he was holding over, then back around, and raised his eyes to meet yours.

“I—I must have placed it somewhere and forgotten about it,” you stammered, feeling the muscles of your hand cramp around the carving.

“Inside this semester’s textbooks?”

You frowned but made no answer.

“How long has it been now?” Prosciutto began, tossing the photo carelessly on the table. “How much do you suppose there’s left of him?”

“Prosci, please——he’s a dead man.”

“That he is.”

The mafioso rose to his feet and walked to the balcony door, hands tucked in his pockets. He maintained his stoic composure, in spite of his bitter tongue.

“It must have been hard for you—when your family had to pay off your ex-boyfriend’s dues,” Prosciutto continued, staring out of the glass door with unfocused eyes. “When your mother got threatened at work, your brother kidnapped for ransom… And what about you?—I can think of quite a few uses that gang could have for a pretty little thing like you, if I hadn’t stepped up.”

He punctuated his last words with vitriol, then turned around to look at you. “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world.”

“I never lied to you about my feelings,” you sighed, pushing the memories deep down. Your head hung low as you placed the piece of carving on the coffee-table. “And you have my gratitude for everything you have done for me.”

“Oh,” he breathed.

“I’m going back to sleep,” you said, raising your head to finally meet his gaze. You were taken aback by the strange, concentrated expression that had settled on Prosciutto’s face. “We both should,” you added, straightening up.

“I’m not done talking.”

“I am!” You tried to put your foot down, but the voice wavered in your throat.

Prosciutto knitted his brows and took his hands out of his pockets, staring you down like a hawk narrowing on its prey. For a split of a moment you caught a glimpse of what it must feel like to be on his hit-list for the night.

“Sit down.”

You shook your head in fear, and backed up as he stepped forward.

“I said sit down!”

Prosciutto’s voice rose, matching the anger that surged on his face. He lurched forward and grabbed you by the arm, pressing firmly. You shrank away trying to pull yourself free, but Prosciutto brought his other hand on your shoulder, holding you steady.

“Let me go!” you shouted and shifted in his grip. “I don’t understand—what has gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me is that he is cold and resting, and I am warm and boiling!”

You yelped as your body was flung onto the sofa; trembling from head to foot as his chest trembled no less. Prosciutto stood in front of you, breathing heavily. He let his eyes wander over your shaking form one last time, then moved to the side.

“I’ll take the sofa for the night,” he said, pushing back his hair from his forehead. “I’m not quite myself.”

You raised yourself on the sofa’s back, and opened your mouth unsure of what to say: “Prosci… I—”

“Just go,” he spoke, looking away.

Hearing the bedroom door click shut, Prosciutto walked back to the right end of the sofa and let himself collapse against the back cushions. The salon lights went out, and he covered his face with both hands in bitter humiliation. He felt pathetic for having scared you like that.

The truth was: it had been a marriage of convenience from the start. That’s why, even though you shared one bed, he never dared to touch you. Only the lowest scum forced themselves on a woman. Yet he’d catch his desires slipping out, and held out to the hope that one day each familial caress or kiss would turn into something more.

Prosciutto reclined on the sofa, and watched the ceiling with dilated eyes.

It’s not like you were repulsed by him. Quite the contrary—But there was always a shadow in between, dragging you away from him. He fought back the urge to kick the glass coffee-table to pieces.

Weren’t you lonely just like him? It’s not like a ghost could hold you, and there he was, in flesh and blood. You were bound to come back to him eventually…

Surely then, the day would break and the shadows flee away.

The last thing Prosciutto recalled before drifting asleep was the wedding ring feeling tighter than usual around his finger.

***

Update: I wrote a continuation to this

#prosciutto #jojo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #reader #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra #Vento Aureo #Ougon no Kaze #Golden Wind #my fic #writing #writers on tumblr

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