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kyotarou · 3 years

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title: a little more noise

pairing: kyōtani kentarō x gn!reader

synopsis: in a world of constant silence, he’s the noise you need in life, even if he’s a bit quiet.

warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, lotta tropes and cliches, two swear words if i counted correctly

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: i wrote this in two days which i’m very proud of, go me! always wanted to write a kyōken fic and here it is. kinda scared to post this bc he’s quite tough to characterize imo and i’m terrible at writing longer pieces. oh well :,) no indentation because that’d be such a pain. hope you like it, feedback is always appreciated! (this is also my first time writing slowburn so please lmk if it’s still too fast)

Your parents were not bad people—that was a fact. They were kind, and you did everything an ordinary family would; eat dinner together, go on trips, attend school events. Things were quiet, a little too quiet for comfort. It never felt… right. You heard stories of parents arguing, nasty divorces, and custody battles. They tore your friends apart, made them feel a pain you could never understand. You knew how terrible it was, yet sometimes you wished you went through that to fill the silence in your home. The same monotonous, “good mornings,” and “hellos,” became sickening to hear. You told yourself to push on until after graduation where you’d escape. As the years dragged on, you weren’t so sure you could keep your sanity intact.

It was how you met Kyōtani Kentarō, a second-year from your school who was in a different class. Your friend told you of a gym nearby that was secluded at night. With a sly grin, he said he met up with students from other schools to smoke, and sometimes as a hookup spot. You wrinkled your nose at his comment and flicked his forehead. These were the people you hung out with; not so bright, but easygoing and fun. They were the ones who satisfied the need for noise, the bit of excitement in your life.

You snuck out after your parents had gone to bed. It didn’t hit until halfway through your walk that several things could happen. You were alone with nothing to defend yourself with except your phone and bare hands. Looking down at your outfit, an old dark hoodie and some sweats, you hoped it was ominous enough to ward people away. Besides, the last thing you wanted was to go home and wallow in its emptiness.

To see the lights on in the gym was a surprise. Upon closer inspection, you heard the squeaking of shoes and the cannon-like sounds of balls slamming the floor. You peeked your head through the door. The only person inside was a boy, no older than you. The first thing you noticed was his oddly dyed hair which resembled a tennis ball. The second was his piercing gaze as he turned his head and stared at you. You jumped. He looked as though he was going to charge at you. Instead, the boy huffed, walked to the other side of the gym, and picked up the ball. You spotted a familiar white and blue jacket on the ground.

“Seijoh?”

The boy turned to you again. “Yeah.” His voice was low, but powerful enough to rumble the earth.

You swallowed. “I go there, too.” This was a waste of time, you thought. You should’ve gone home, and you almost did until he spoke again.

“Never seen you before.”

The ball flew into the air with the boy tailing it. His body bent in a way you didn’t think was possible, face pinched in concentration. It hit his hand then the ground with the loudest smacks you had ever heard. It was incredible, but also scary. He picked up another ball behind him and did the same, and again, and again, until his side was empty and yours was strewn with several blue and yellow volleyballs. The more you watched, the more mesmerized you became.

“Can I stay?” You felt stupid for asking, but if he was trying to concentrate, you didn’t want to disturb him. Surprisingly, he nodded. You sank to the floor with your knees to your chest and listened to the constant thwacks and smacks all night.

You only learned his name a little while after. It was by accident. You were walking by a group of boys at school when one of them called him Mad Dog-chan, and you bit your lip to stop your laughter. Luckily, they didn’t notice. It was kind of cute the more you thought about it. It fit his appearance quite well, too. That night, you found him at the gym once again. Instead of a curt nod, you waved.

“Hey, Mad Dog-chan!”

You immediately regretted your words when he stopped bouncing the ball and flashed you a murderous look. You muttered a hurried apology and sat on the floor in your usual spot. He whacked a ball a couple of times then came over to grab his water bottle. After a few quick gulps, you expected him to get back on the court, but he stared at the spot beside you.

“It’s Kyōtani. Kyōtani Kentarō.”

Some nights, he didn’t practice. You sat in a playground nearby with soda and snacks from home. Originally, they were meant to replenish his energy when he overworked himself. Now, you were the one eating most of them, with Kyōtani nibbling on a custard bun as you wolfed down chip bag after chip bag. One thing you could say with confidence was Kyōtani was a great listener. At first, you sat in awkward silence. Then, you started rattling off all the things you did that day. It led to you talking about anything and everything, including the funny-looking dog you saw on the street last week. You hoped he didn’t think he reminded you of it.

Talking to Kyōtani was equivalent to talking to a wall. If anything, you were talking at him. He barely looked your way, and if you asked a question, he responded with a grunt or a simple, “Yeah.” Even though you wished it was two-sided, it felt good. You could finally break the silence that shrouded you for years, something you yearned to do but never had the confidence to. With Kyōtani, because of how quiet he was, you felt you could say anything without judgment. You did this for a while, rambling to him in the playground while he sat and listened.

Together, you sat on the swings with fruit sandwiches you made earlier that day. Your feet dragged against the sand and dirt as you swung back and forth. It seemed like Kyōtani enjoyed it. You noticed him eyeing your sandwich while licking his lips. You laughed and handed the rest to him. You started your daily tangent; woke up, ate a meat bun for breakfast, went to school, did homework, then came here. Somewhere along the way, you mentioned how you were home alone since your parents had lots of meetings to attend. You wished it was a little more lively. It was why you left the house every night, to find some noise in the suffocating void of it all.

You talked some more about your family, which you never did. You were too distracted to see Kyōtani’s head perk up. He stopped munching on the fruit sandwich and leaned forward, trying to look at your face. You continued to ramble, feeling your irritation slowly rise.

“Am I a bad person? I mean, they’re really nice, and I adore them. But it’s unbearable sometimes, and then I end up feeling like an asshole.”

You let out a dry laugh, ignoring the pain of the metal chains holding up the swing as they dug into your palms. You pressed your lips together in a thin line, unsure of what to say next. You chose to draw circles in the sand with the tip of your shoe.

“I understand how you feel.”

You looked at Kyōtani in surprise. You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. The night felt a little brighter.

The last thing your “friends” expected was for you to ditch them for him. “Looks like a tennis ball,” one of them said. You chuckled since it was your exact thought when you first met him. You were relieved but also disheartened when they didn’t seem to mind too much. At least you knew where they stood.

Hanging out with Kyōtani was much different compared to your nights at the gym or the playground. You got lots of stares from the third-years who never thought he could behave like this. Some people in your class whispered about the two lone-wolves banding together. You pretended not to hear.

“You’ve been cheery lately.”

You stared at your mother, trying to process her words. They never asked about you, which you grew to appreciate. It meant not having to force out a conversation. You almost brushed it aside until she spoke again. Your chin rested in your palm as you picked the vegetables on your plate, stomach full with snacks.

“I met a new friend.”

Your mother raised her brows, impressed. “Oh? Tell me about him.”

“How do you know he’s a boy?”

“Just a hunch.”

You sighed, continuing to stir your food. “He’s quiet. A little weird, but he’s nice. I can talk to him about anything.”

“That’s good.”

Your father glanced at her, and she shot him a strange look. Don’t, it said. He backed off and ate as if nothing happened.

You managed to weave yourself with the other boys from the volleyball team. They were a scary bunch at first, most of them glaring at Kyōtani the moment he walked through the door, but they were nice to you. He had left his jacket at the playground one night, and you made a mental note to return it to him the next day. Except, like Kyōtani, you also forgot about it. When you saw the boys flood to the gym for practice, you raced home then back to school and shyly followed a group of girls to the gym who were there to gawk at the captain.

During their break, you nervously approached Kyōtani and poked his shoulder. They watched you return his jacket but didn’t expect his, “Thank you,” afterward. When you left, Oikawa bugged him to invite you back. Kyōtani shrugged. He usually ignored him at all costs. Oikawa took it as a good sign.

Hanging out with them was a lot more fun than you anticipated. They were better than your previous friends, and even though most of them didn’t like Kyōtani, they seemed to be warming up. Your favorite moment was the movie night at Oikawa’s house. The living room was packed, with little room to wiggle, but it was comfortable. That night, you laughed so hard your stomach hurt, and the tensions between you, Kyōtani, and the rest of the boys dissolved. You belonged here.

Yahaba caught him staring at you outside your classroom. You sat across from another classmate, helping her with a few assignments for her art class. You posed and let her take pictures. Some were silly, but the others captured your features perfectly. In one of them, you rested your cheek in your palm with the tip of your pencil wedged between your teeth. You looked at the camera through your lashes as your classmate continued to snap more shots.

“Cool it.” Yahaba clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Never said you were.”

You helped your classmate pack her things. While you followed her out the door, she twirled a lock of hair around her finger and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. You bid her goodbye as her friends called her over, then turned to Kyōtani and Yahaba.

“Ready to go?”

Yahaba nodded, as did Kyōtani. You walked ahead of them, listing off that day’s menu. Behind you, Kyōtani’s eyes zeroed in on your moving form, the shift of your hips as you took each step. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like he was honing in on a kill. Yahaba prodded his arm.

“Don’t be a pervert.”

You swore you heard a slap.

Friday after school, your parents were home from work much earlier than anticipated. A game show played on the television. They barely noticed your arrival until you called out. The TV turned off, and your mother looked over the back of the sofa with a wry smile. Your father drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. His eyes stayed glued to the empty screen.

“Welcome back,” your mother greeted. She glanced at the boxes in the kitchen, filled with old plates and cutlery you hadn’t touched in a while. You assumed they were throwing them out.

“So…” she drawled. “What do you think of Tokyo?”

“Tokyo?”

Your hands shook as you set your school bag down on the kitchen table. The boxes made more sense. You remembered your father talking about a school his friend’s son attended. Nekoma, was it? He told you how great it was there, that it’d be easy to make friends in such a populated area.

“Tokyo…” you repeated. A heavy lump formed in your throat. “It seems… nice. Why do you ask?” You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice. Your mother caught on too.

“Dad’s company moved areas. It’s a big shift, but it’s too good to lose. So-”

“We’re moving.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you were about to.”

Your head hung over the table. There was a crushing weight in your chest. Of course they wouldn’t tell you. They never did. It was too much to not expect this betrayal. If you told them how happy you were at Seijoh, maybe things would’ve been different. I could’ve prevented this. You shook your head. You couldn’t stop an entire company from moving, nor could you convince your father to find a new job in Miyagi. You had to follow them like you always did.

“If we can stay, we will, but most likely-”

“I’ll start packing.”

You grabbed your school bag and stomped to your room, vision obscured by your tears. Why now? Why did it have to be when you were starting to fit in, when you found real friends who made you happier than ever? Just when things looked like they were turning around, you were back at square one. You’d be there for a while, stuck in a new city far away from Seijoh. If you were with your old group, you wouldn’t have been this upset. But to not see them again—Yahaba, Hanamaki, even Oikawa.

You opened your phone and stared at the lock screen: a picture of you and Kentarō from the movie night at Oikawa’s. His arm was slung over your shoulder, a scowl on his face, but the peace sign he held up made it worth it. You remembered taking it and everyone gasping that Kentarō would even allow anyone to take a picture of him, let alone save it. Your heart fluttered. When did he stop being Kyōtani and become Kentarō?

Kentarō faced the empty playground. He sat in the right swing as he always did, scanning the area for any sign of you. In his hand was his attempt at a fruit sandwich, messily covered in cellophane with whipped cream oozing between the bread. A bandaid wrapped the tip of his finger where he accidentally cut himself. Damn those strawberries.

Kentarō kicked at the dirt. He waited, and waited some more, but after twenty minutes, you didn’t show. He pulled out his phone and sent you a quick text. Your absence made his skin crawl. His phone lit up with a response. Sorry, was all you said.

He couldn’t shake the heaviness as he trudged home.

The view outside the window gave you an excuse to be distracted. The voices of the boys were loud, but you chose to focus on the birds circling the courtyard. Two of them swooped down and landed on the thick branch of an old tree. They ruffled their feathers and nuzzled their beaks. You saw your old friends walk out of the main building. The one who introduced you to the gym glanced up. His eyes met yours momentarily. He went back to talking to someone you didn’t recognize and led them to the other side of the campus.

You stared out the window until Mattsun shook your shoulder. You turned and put on a faux smile. Your classwork was still strewn across your desk even though it was lunch. A few drops of chili sauce had landed on your math homework. You scowled at Hanamaki, his face stuffed with food.

“Oops.”

You wiped it off with an eye roll then stuffed it into your bag along with your other notebooks.

“What’s buggin’ ya?” Mattsun asked.

You shrugged. “Nothing. I’m ready for the day to end.” It was the last thing you wanted. There was a bit of time before you left for Tokyo, but the countdown moved fast. You ignored Mattsun’s opposing look and ate. They couldn’t know yet.

Kentarō knew there was more than what met the eye, but he bit his tongue. He was paranoid, he told himself. The guilty look on your face as the boys laughed, unaware of the shift in attitude, said otherwise. He threw his arm over the back of your chair. You relaxed, but the sad look remained. Remembering the fruit sandwich he made, Kentarō grabbed it from his bag and slid it across your desk. You raised your brows.

“What’s this?”

“I made it.”

You unwrapped the sticky mess of whipped cream and strawberry jam. Kentarō watched you take a small bite, followed by a bigger one.

“This is delicious!”

He showed you the tip of his finger. “The price I paid for it.”

Your knees knocked against his under your desk. He flinched. You pressed your finger to your lips, then to the bandaid. “Thank you. Hope it feels better.”

Your cheeks swelled as you took more bites than you could chew. Pink syrup stuck to the corner of your mouth. Cute, Kentarō thought.

“What was that?” you mumbled. A crumb lodged itself in your throat. Mattsun rushed over and slapped you so hard on the back it echoed. A handful of other students looked over. Hanamaki scolded you for gulping down your bottle of water without taking any breaths. Kentarō cheeks turned a darker shade than the strawberries when you gripped his arm for support. You didn’t ask again.

“Cute,” he whispered anyway. He knew you wouldn’t hear over Mattsun’s teasing. “You’re cute.”

Kentarō invited you to the movies. He planned on having it at home, but his parents occupied the TV, and his laptop was too small to enjoy anything. He met you at a plaza a walking distance’s away. He let you pick the movie, curious about your tastes. Action? Romcom? When he looked at his ticket, it was for the latest horror movie. Critics raved about it, calling it the best of the decade. Impressive.

The movie started a while ago. The critics were right, it was scary, a lot scarier than he expected. You enjoyed it like a comedy movie, clapping your hand over your mouth when the entire theater shrieked at the killer, including Kentarō.

“You’re a sadist,” he whispered.

“Am not, just think it’s funny.”

He shook his head. Another jumpscare happened, this time worse than before. Several people jolted in their seats and bits of popcorn flew into the air. Kentarō didn’t realize he had sank into his seat—your seat, actually—until you nudged his foot with yours.

“Scared?” Your breath was warm against his ear.

“Sorry.”

You patted his hand which clutched the armrest with a vice grip. Kentarō’s heart beat faster.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m right here.”

The movie ended and the lights switched on. People left the theater with wobbly legs and pale faces. You headed to the exit holding your empty cups and popcorn bags with Kentarō in tow. He wished the movie was longer. Not because he enjoyed it, but because the smile on your face made it worth it.

Your room was bare besides your bed and desk. Most of your stuff was packed neatly in the many cardboard boxes piled inside your now empty closet. It’d been a few weeks since that Friday, and you still hadn’t told Kentarō or any of the boys. You weren’t sure how to break the news. He noticed how clingy you became, tailing him wherever he went at school. Not that he minded. You talked less at the playground. It was him who filled the silence instead, though his daily recaps weren’t as interesting as yours.

Next week was the last with Kentarō. In your shaky hands was an envelope, the edges indented from how hard you gripped it. You took out the letter inside, read it over, then slipped it back in. You thought about sealing it for the umpteenth time that day. Before your tongue swiped against the flap, you quickly scanned over the letter once more as if the words would disappear. You’d seal it later, you told yourself.

Your over-the-top cheeriness was so evident it was painful. They asked what was up, and you said you were simply having a good day. Kentarō knew better than that. At lunch, when you were away from everyone else, he prodded your shoulder and asked what was wrong. You frowned at him, then smiled.

“Everything's fine.”

Before he could probe further, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the cafeteria.

“There’s chicken! It’s your favorite, right?”

Something slipped out of your pocket. Kentarō thought it was your school notes. He bent down to pick it up and saw it was a white envelope, unsealed. You were already gone, dragged away by his teammates. He didn’t want to pry, but curiosity got the best of him. Turning the other direction, he grabbed the note inside. His name at the top caught his eye.

Dear Kyōken-chan,

He snorted.

Sorry for not telling you this sooner. I’m still trying to process this too.

A crease formed on his forehead as he squinted. The letter was quite long, the handwriting messy. He repeated the phrases in his head over and over, but he couldn’t fully understand what they meant. He flipped it to the back and sighed when there was more. He decided to scan it this time, except a handful of words made him reread it in depth.

“Kentarō!” In your arms were several wrapped buns from the cafeteria. He tried to stuff the note into his pocket, but you already saw.

“Oh.” The buns fell to the ground. “Oh no.”

Kentarō’s face was a mix of frustration and hurt. The hand holding the letter shook, the other balled in a fist. You wanted to run, but if you moved, you swore you’d collapse.

“(Y/N),” he murmured. “What is this?”

A weary laugh escaped your lips. “Um. Can we go somewhere else?”

Not waiting for an answer, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the school’s courtyard.

“One week,” he huffed.

“One week.”

You sat beneath a large, shady tree in the farthest corner away from the main building. Kentarō rubbed his temple and sighed. He held onto your letter. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap.

“For how long?”

“Probably forever. Not literally, but it’ll feel like it.”

“So you’re graduating from Nekoma?”

You nodded. Kentarō tapped his knuckles against his cheek.

“Wished you told me sooner.”

You blinked at him wearily. “You’re not mad?”

He shook his head then turned away. You grew quiet for a moment. He took it as his chance to butt in.

“So, you like me?”

“It’s all in the letter.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

You looked away. Your hands were clammy, and the air felt ten times hotter. The word you used was stronger, much stronger than he anticipated. It made his cheeks burn and a smile threatened to pull at his lips. He wanted to hear it come to life.

“I love you, Kentarō.”

It sounded sweet, almost tooth-rotting sweet. Kentarō chewed the inside of his cheek. He liked you, he really did. He just wasn’t sure if it was the right moment to say it. Would there be a right moment? After this week, you’d be in Tokyo in another school—a rival school, to make matters worse. He wanted his words to hold weight, and in that moment, they didn’t. Not as much as he wished.

“If you don’t feel the same, I understand.”

“I do.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the bell cut you off. Kentarō hoisted himself from the ground then held his hand out. His palm was rough under yours, but his touch was gentle. Once you got to your feet, you let go, but he kept his pinky locked with yours.

Friday arrived quickly. Sadness filled the air as you said your goodbyes, thanking your classmates and teachers for the short, but pleasant year. After school, the team led you to the gym with your eyes covered. The boys’ gym was decorated with a banner and a table with food. There was even a cake, the word Seijoh iced and crossed out on top. You let out a hearty laugh before inviting the boys to dig in.

“Of course,” said Oikawa. “I paid for it.”

On one side, Mattsun smeared frosting over Hanamaki’s cheek. On the other, Oikawa tried to spoon-feed Iwaizumi only to be smacked on the head. You sat on the floor next to Kentarō and looked around with a big smile. His thumb reached out to wipe a dollop of frosting from the corner of your mouth. The phrase, “Time flies when you’re having fun,” held up its end of the bargain. When you looked outside, the sun had begun to set.

You thanked your friends, took one last photo, and managed to hold in your tears until your walk home. You promised to visit and to cheer them on at nationals, even if you were on Nekoma’s side. They laughed, waved with sad smiles, then watched you leave.

Kentarō caught up with you a third of the way home. His hand slipped into yours, a habit he recently picked up. It wouldn’t last much longer. You stopped a few houses down from yours. You didn’t want to let go, not yet.

You learned many things this year. One, life wasn’t fair. It never was. Two, people weren’t as shitty as you thought, proven in your new friendships. Three, seeing Kentarō cry made your heart ache in a way you never wanted to feel again. His head fell against your shoulder with a hard thump, tears soaking through the uniform you’d wear for the last time. You rubbed his back and pressed your lips to the top of his head.

“Stay,” he pleaded.

“I wish I could.”

“Please don’t go.”

“I have to.”

Kentarō looked up through his watery lashes. Your lips connected. Who initiated it was a mystery. His kiss was slow but fervent. You leaned in, deepening it until you swore your teeth clashed. Kentarō’s hands rested on your hips, yours on the nape of his neck. His kisses were magnetizing, drawing you closer with each movement. You broke apart for air, foreheads pressed together. He still had tears in his eyes, and so did you. You stayed like that for a bit, wrapped in each other’s arms until you knew you had to let go.

“Call me everyday, please,” he whispered.

“I promise. I swear on my life.”

You kissed him again.

“Goodbye, Kentarō. I love you.”

“Goodbye, (Y/N). I’ll be waiting.”

“So will I.”

Kentarō didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. You knew he loved you, proven by his daily text messages and calls thereafter. Even if it only lasted a couple of seconds, you never missed a day. Sometimes, you heard his teammates' voices in the background. The audio would become crackly before a new voice replaced your boyfriend’s: Mattsun, Yahaba, Oikawa, and even Iwaizumi.

Boyfriend. The fact made your stomach fill with butterflies. Kentarō was yours, and you were his.

It’d been months since you last saw him in person. You finished your second-year at Nekoma, a school that welcomed you with open arms. You met lots of people, found new friends, but the boys from Seijoh never left your mind. The picture you took hung on the wall of your new bedroom, a space you were still getting used to. Summer vacation was here, and you promised to come home to Miyagi for a week or two. On the train, you checked your phone to see how many kilometers were left. Just a few more minutes.

When it came to a halt, you burst from your seat, duffle bag in tow. You sent Kentarō a text, only to be face-to-face with him the moment the doors opened. You leapt into his arms, knocking him back a few steps. His chin rested on your shoulder as you hugged, swaying side to side.

“I missed you so much, Ken.”

“Missed you, too.”

Your fingers clasped around his, resting perfectly in the dips between his knuckles. Hopefully, he hadn’t dropped his habit. The months you were apart flew by, but they were also the longest you had ever witnessed. Seeing Kentarō for the first time in a while felt like a breath of cool, fresh air.

You tugged on his wrist, ready to head to town. He stayed put.

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

He grinned shyly at you. Kentarō brought color into your dull life, your source of noise in the thick silence. The summer wouldn’t forever, and you had another year left to endure. But as long as he was there, even kilometers away, you’d get through it together.

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nbrook29 · 3 years

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love you to the moon and to saturn

This is part 4 of my Sander in NYC ‘verse. I posted it on ao3, but recently I’ve also been posting my fics on tumblr so here it is 😌

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: mild sexual content

* * *

Saturday, 10:00

His sleep was anxious, mind too preoccupied with stress to allow him to get a proper rest. The wake up was even worse as mere seconds after he blinked the sleep away from his tired eyes the memories of last night crept back in, flooding him with worry and making his brain replay the argument over and over again like a broken cassette. And then he checked his phone only to find a string of messages and missed calls, all from Sander, causing his stomach to twist with nerves at what they were going to say.

His abrupt leaving had been a dick move and if Sander was pissed, Robbe knew he couldn’t blame him. So he stalled, finger barely swiping at the screen as he was unsure whether to unlock it and face the consequences or maybe throw the phone back on his bedside table and bury himself under the covers to wait for his courage to come back and for his nerves to settle.

Heaving a sigh, he chose option number one because it was the only rational one.

He tapped Sander’s photo, holding his breath without even registering it.

Two seconds later he knew.

He didn’t need to worry.

Sunday 13:00

Robbe hides another smile into his glass at the thought of yesterday’s evening, trying to focus on what Marie is saying. She’s talking animatedly about a guy she met at her new internship, hearts almost flowing out of her eyes as she swoons on the wooden stool and sips her black coffee. She’s the kind of girl who falls in love quickly and falls out of love just as quick. Across from where he’s sitting, he sees Fien and Lucas rolling their eyes at her exaggerated lovesick sighes making him snort in his marshmallow latte.

“Weren’t you obsessed with that lanky guy from Starbucks last week? What happened to him?”

Marie shrugs, tossing her long brown hair back from her shoulders. “I decided he was too old for me.”

“Didn’t you say he was 21?” Robbe interjects with amusement, remembering their group messenger chat he caught up with this morning.

“Exactly!”

They all start bickering about the appropriate age difference in relationships, Robbe watching them as he munches happily on one of the soggy marshmallows he fished out from his cup, trying not to giggle at Lucas’ scandalized face at Marie calling 21 old. Robbe knows from the many stories Lucas has shared so far that his own boyfriend is a senior at college so his reaction is even more entertaining because of that.

It feels good to be around them again, Robbe thinks to himself. He’s been canceling on them way too often those last few weeks and he still feels guilty about it. They’re a fun bunch, their bantery dynamic established since day one when they all chose the middle row to sit in during their morning classes, and then promptly spent half of it bonding over the outrageous occurrence that was the absence of a coffee shop on the campus. Not long after, Robbe also discovered that apart from the passion for filmmaking, they all also like skateboarding. After that, the rest was history.

They were for sure a nice distraction from Robbe’s intrusive thoughts in the beginning of the semester. He lucked out, finding his group, his people, so early on in his college journey. But at some point even their goofiness and honest attempts at cheering him up weren’t enough. Not since the news from Sander came that he’s staying in New York until February and since the thing with Jens.

Now, observing them from over his half-drunk coffee, lips twitching at some of the more creative but still lowkey insults Marie and Lucas throw at each other, he realizes he has really missed them. They’re like siblings, the two of them, constantly bickering and teasing one another, but it’s all good-natured and amusing to watch.

“Oh my god, let it go, children, for the love of god,” Fien cuts in abruptly, before turning her big expectant eyes on Robbe, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger and adding innocently, “I’d finally like to hear about Sobbe’s makeup.”

Heat rushes to Robbe’s cheeks and he scratches at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden. She’s the number one fangirl of his relationship, he has learned recently, but in a cute way, not creepy like Aaron sometimes used to be with his invasive questions. She always moans about being forever single, pouting at Robbe for some fluffy snippets and claiming in faux-seriousness that he owes it to the world to share them with others for being lucky enough to have a fairytale-like love story.

Robbe has never disclosed to them how unfairytale-like some of the details are because it’s not his story to tell. But he really likes her so he always indulges her, usually after a bit of teasing. And, sue him, but he’s proud of his relationship and the fact that he of all people can call Sander his boyfriend, so even if he brags a little, he thinks he has good reasons for it.

(He’s still kinda smug when he thinks about the time when he showed the three of them a photo of Sander, a pleased little smile on his face at their reactions and playful threats of stealing him for themselves.)

“Oh yeah, I wanna know too,” Marie agrees excitedly, scooting her chair closer to him. “You’ve been all smiley ever since you came over here so I’m guessing that hottie of yours did something right,” she ends on a teasing note, her waggling eyebrows leaving Robbe no doubts she expects some saucy details.

“Oh my god, stop,” he groans as he hides his face in his hands, his friends giggling at his embarrassment. “It wasn’t like that! We just… finally talked things out.”

Saturday, 18:00 (flashback to last night)

Robbe’s been gnawing on his bottom lip relentlessly, completely unaware, to the point it’s a few bites away from drawing blood. He can’t help but feel nervous, the cursor hovering over the 'accept' button as he's rolling his eyes on himself internally, telling himself to stop making a bigger deal out of this that it needs to be. There is a bit of embarrassment clouding his logical reasoning to be honest, embarrassment about his overreaction last night.

Was it an overreaction? He's still not completely sure, but it's not like avoiding the situation is going to magically fix everything between them. Even though he'd really like that. It feels so awkward to be in this position. Robbe doesn't know what the protocol here is. They bicker, quite often even. Fight a little too, stomping off out of each other’s room grumpily but only over stupid stuff, nothing like this.

He's walking on an unknown ground just hoping he's not going to make things worse. He desperately needs their dynamic back because he's already over it.

Not being able to share the most mundane every day stuff with each other over texts to joke about it, rile the other up or just vent about something stupid like their coffees not being hot enough on a given rainy morning sucks.

So he takes a deep breath and clicks on the button before he works himself into a never-ending second-guessing.

When Sander says a soft hi and smiles at him with the usual warmth in his eyes, something akin to relief courses through him from head to toe.

He gives him his own tentative smile and a short hi, pushing himself higher against the pillows. Before Sander can say anything more, he lets go of what has been weighing down on him the entire day.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, contrite. “About yesterday. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just logged off like that without explanation. And then ignore your messages,” he adds after a pause because that’s what he feels most guilty about. He knows he’d freak out if Sander just cut him off without giving him an opportunity to talk things out, would worry himself sick.

Sander looks conflicted, brows knitted together, like a part of him wants to reassure Robbe because it's in his nature, but the other part is genuinely hurt. Robbe doesn't want compassion. Not for that, because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Causing Sander distress is the last thing he wants.

"Yeah, it did suck," he finally admits after a moment passes, and Robbe finds comfort in his honesty. It’s a good start. They won’t get anywhere with false niceties and pretending everything’s fine. Robbe tried pretending, yesterday and most of their calls before that, and it got them where they are now.

“I mean, I know you didn’t want to talk about your problems yesterday,” pausing, he scrunches up his nose a bit, “but maybe next time just don’t log off so abruptly so I know you’re okay?” his voice tilts on a hopeful note.

Robbe just nods, feeling shameful, hating that there’s not much more that he can do when he’s talking to him through his computer, and can’t exactly reach out to cuddle up to Sander’s side or kiss the underside of his jaw as a silent apology to then stay close for the rest of the evening as they heal together.

It’s frustrating and disheartening, but it affects them both the same amount and Robbe needs to remember that. Because the truth is, Sander didn’t exactly give him a legitimate reason to doubt him or to think he didn’t miss him. Those full of hurt eyes Sander gave him yesterday at the suggestion have been eating away at him all day.

Robbe just got swallowed by his own insecurities and let the little things that bothered him consume him all instead of, well. Communicating.

Sander was right yesterday. Of course he was.

He knows he has some more apologies to give.

“I’m also sorry for not telling you earlier how I felt,” he keeps pouring his heart out, “and for, you know, assuming you don’t miss me much, and-”

“Woah, hey,” Sander stops him before he can get himself deeper into the spiral. “Robbe, I fucked up too, don’t take it all on yourself.” He adjusts his laptop and Robbe can see his face clearer now, his eyes bloodshot and tired, a clear sign of a sleepless night, and the guilt clogs his throat even more now.

“I should have seen something wasn’t right.” When Robbe shakes his head and goes back to apologizing, Sander shoots him a pointed look that makes him shut up. “I should have, don’t deny it. You know, I took a long walk yesterday after you hung up, to clear my head, but also to get a perspective on our latest talks. And I felt so dumb for not realizing you were not doing okay.”

“Sander, I don’t expect you to read my mind,” Robbe tries to joke, but it falls flat even in his own ears. But he can’t bear those big regretful eyes on him. He doesn't deserve them.

“Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you the way you needed me to. Please tell me now? What’s been bothering you, hmm?”

Robbe scrubs his face trying to collect his thoughts, to find a concise way to get everything out of his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“It may take a while.”

Sander makes a show of fluffing the pillow he placed against his back and getting himself more comfortable on his bed, sighing with contentment for a better effect.

“Look, I’m in my comfy clothes, got an energy drink on my nightstand, the computer battery is full and I told everyone I’m busy so they won’t nag me with anything. I’m all yours today.” He gives him an encouraging smile, fondness etched into every crevice of his face.

Robbe’s heart does a little skip at his words, Sander’s demeanor so comforting that he feels the last pieces of apprehension ebbing away, the need to vent overpowering the hesitation of showing his vulnerability.

“I think I just found myself overwhelmed with some things,” he admits quietly, picking at his nail, an absent-minded habit when he’s nervous, as he’s trying to find the right words. “A lot has changed in those last few months, almost all at once, and I kinda have trouble coping. And like,” he scoffs at himself, “I’m angry with myself ‘cause I should be enjoying most of it, being in college and majoring in something that I actually like, and it’s great, but I can’t help but focus on all the things that are different now, things that are not so great.”

Before continuing, he flicks his gaze to Sander for a second, only to then cast his eyes back to his lap. “The last two years with you were the happiest of my life, you know? After years of bullshit and constant misery and pretending to be somebody I wasn’t I-,” he sighs, bittersweet smile on his lips,”I finally found my person, you know?”

Sander mirrors his smile, but he’s frowning a little. “But you still have me,” he reminds him softly.

“I know, but it sucks when I can’t just, I don’t know, snuggle up you and forget about stuff. It’s all your fault, by the way, you’ve been too good to me and now I have withdrawal symptoms,” he pouts, and hears Sander chuckling on the other side of the screen.

“You have no idea how much I wish virtual hugs were a thing. And kisses, oh my god, kisses too. I’m so kiss-deprived. Once I finally get my hands on you, I won’t let you go for a week.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

For a short moment, Sander manages to bring a genuine smile on his face, but it quickly disappears when the reality sets back in. There are still almost four long months to get through. He watches Sander’s smile slipping off his face slowly and he knows they’re both thinking about it.

The boy sighs deeply. “You know, sometimes I feel like it was a mistake to-”

Robbe’s eyes snap to him. “No, no, no, don’t think that, it wasn’t a mistake. Please don’t feel guilty or something, that’s the last thing I want you to do,” he stresses. Sander still looks conflicted, and fuck, this is exactly what Robbe wanted to avoid.

“Hey, I’m serious. Look, you not being here is tough, but like I said, it’s just things piling up, changing. Shit like school work that has been piling up and me getting so stressed about the end-of-the-semester project because I still haven’t figured out the details. Plus people moving away, all of that makes it difficult for me to adjust. So don’t go thinking it’s because you’re the center of my universe or something,” he ends his rambling with a feigned-offended huff and Sander easily lets them slip into their usual banter.

“I’m not?! Wow, the things a guy finds out after being such a devoted and doting and loving boyfriend.” He wipes the imaginary tear, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Such a menace, breaking my heart in half on this lovely Saturday afternoon.” He purses his lips in offence and Robbe is grateful for Sander’s attempt to lift the mood, trying to be upbeat.

He feels a tug in his chest thinking about how if Sander was here, he’d be tackling him to the nearest surface to shut him up with tickles and loud smooches and playful jabs in the sides and how they would make much more noise than necessary, acting like the rambunctious teens they are.

That’s going to have to wait too. But he discovers this thought doesn’t hurt as much as it would have yesterday because their conversation right now, this opportunity to vent and Sander’s texts last night, all of it makes him feel better, helps him see he’s not alone.

“I love you,” he blurts out all of a sudden, and it’s something he’s wanted to say since he read his heartfelt texts this morning that almost made him cry in relief.

Sander blinks a couple times, surprised, but then his previously playful face melts into such a fond look it makes Robbe blush like it was the first time he said it.

The I love you too comes right away, soft and quiet, like he’s telling a secret, and it’s heart-stoppingly precious.

To keep himself from drowning in fuzzy feelings, he shoots him a private little smile and steers the conversation back to his friends, telling him how it sucks that it’s they all now live away and how unexpectedly difficult it is to meet up. Robbe’s used to basically having everyone at arm-reach.

“We do video call, obviously, but you know, Milan is all loved up with Ralph in Amsterdam and not that keen on leaving their love nest and Zoe and Senne keep traveling between Genk and Ghent, which with Zoe’s coursework and internship is already a struggle. I don’t think they’re doing that well, actually,” he winces, remembering their last conversation.

If during freshman year somebody had told Robbe who his best friends were going to be, he’d looked at them as if they had grown two heads. Because for real, Jana’s new friend and her roommate? And school’s fuckboy?

But life’s funny like that sometimes. Moving into their apartment in his sophomore year has been one of the best decisions he’s ever made. His number one best decision is currently frowning at him from his dirty screen.

“Oh, that sucks. Do you think they’ll work it out?”

Robbe sighs deeply, propping his chin on the heel of his palm. “Senne has been thinking about finding a job in Genk so I hope so.”

Sander huffs a laugh suddenly, shaking his head. “Wow, I wish I was in his place and there were only 2 hours between us, instead of a whole ass ocean.”

“Yeah, I think once you’re back we’re gonna have a master's degree in that long distance bullshit,” Robbe smiles at him wistfully.

“Ugh, never again though. You’re not getting rid of me, it sucks without you, Robin.” He sounds so grumpy Robbe can’t help the short giggle that escapes him, but deep down he’s happy they both share that sentiment.

They’re staring at each other now, enjoying the moment before Sander shoots him a knowing look. “You haven’t mentioned Jens.”

That sobers him up enough for the fuzzy feelings to disappear from his stomach.

Jens. There’s not much to talk about really. And isn’t that a punch-in-a gut kind of truth considering it was his best friend? Isn’t it heartbreaking that Robbe didn’t even feel like fighting for that relationship and there’s a nagging voice in his head telling him that Jens didn’t either? Just a regular heated argument was enough to finally cut that last string, to put a stop to a friendship that had been hanging by a thread long before. Not that they had noticed.

He felt awful, afterwards. More alone than ever before. But deep down he knew it had only been a matter of time. He just wished Sander had been there to pick up the pieces.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Robbe winces, going back to apologizing once he translates his feelings to words the best he can, hoping he made Sander understand.

The boy pulls a face at him, eyes narrowed as he pretends to give him a stern look. “Enough with apologizing today, okay?” He waits until Robbe nods, albeit begrudgingly, because it’s in his second nature to keep saying sorry when he knows he messed up.

He nestles against his pillows to get more comfortable as he glances to the window, registering that sometime during their call it got completely dark outside, November days getting shorter still. He can feel tiredness starting to creep into his bones, the nervous anticipation before their call he had endured all day wearing him down significantly.

There are still some things he needs to get out of his chest and Sander coaxes them gently one by one, listening to him moaning and groaning about his school course load and how he thinks he’s not skilled enough to come up with interesting ideas and being quick to cut him off and reassure him when Robbe’s words get self-deprecating. He’s so attentive and so patient with him, not even an ounce of judgement in his eyes that Robbe feels the pressure and stress that have accumulated over the last few weeks finally letting go with each word he pours out.

When the conversation eventually steers to Robbe’s uni friends and he admits sheepishly that he kinda ghosted them lately, feeling too blue to go out and have fun, Sander interrupts him mid-sentence.

“You should reach out to them, tonight.”

At Robbe’s unsure look, he continues, “If they’re as cool as you made them out to be, I’m sure they’re gonna understand you needed some time to figure things out.”

He then proceeds to cover his ears and whistle, refusing to talk more until Robbe caves and shoots a text to the group chat, trying to keep it short, but explaining things along the way and making amends. Sander’s very pleased with his persuasion skills, beaming at him when Robbe reads him the replies he gets from Lucas, Marie and Fien, wearing a small smile himself as he rolls his eyes at Sander’s smug face.

Sander then asks about his mom and it’s so sweet because he always makes sure to ask, and Robbe falls for him even more each time he does. He’s a bit reluctant when Robbe tries to make him talk about his recent days, keeps saying this call is not about him, but he gives in before Robbe gets upset about it.

Watching his eyes light up with excitement when he talks about his classes works like a balm for Robbe’s yearning heart, Sander’s genuine happiness making his own struggles worth it. It’s a nice reminder that he’s there to make his dreams come true and that it’s everything Robbe has wished for him.

When Sander talks about shenanigans with his friends, Robbe recalls the TikTok video he watched some days ago.

“Nice Michael Jackson moves, by the way,” he comments, trying to sound innocent, but it ends up coming out a little coyishly as he bites at his finger to hide his smirk.

Confusion clouds Sander’s face but only for a second. Then, his lips stretch in a wide grin and he looks very pleased with the confession. “Have you been stalking me, Robin?”

Robbe shrugs, a picture of innocence as he keeps peeking at him from under his lashes. “I might’ve seen a video or two. They’re all so thirsty for you in the comments though,” he adds, putting a note of faux-jealousy in his voice. He quickly noticed that Sander’s new uni friend is semi-popular on the app so his videos always get a fair share of comments. Ever since Sander appeared in them, the hoard of the guy’s fans has been declaring their love for Robbe’s boyfriend under every video. They mostly make him laugh, but sometimes he’ll roll his eyes at some of the raunchier ones, possessiveness that he didn’t know he had activating in his brain.

He waits for Sander’s cocky comment, but to his utter delight, he blushes deep red and scoffs.

“Shut up, it’s so embarrassing,” hiding his face in his hands, he adds, “All of my friends have been teasing me about it constantly.”

“Aww, poor you, being fawned over must be such a hardship, how do you cope?”

“Oh I don’t know, smartass, you can tell me from experience ‘cause I saw those comments under your old vlogs.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “They were nowhere near as detailed as yours!”

“What can I say, I’m irresistible,” Sander quips back and yeah, there he is, Robbe’s favorite (cocky) dork. “If I’d known you’re my TikTok fan, I’d have sent you those videos right away so you wouldn’t have to waste your time searching for them."

Robbe sighs. “They are a nice window to your life there,” he replies offhandedly, not even registering the implied double meaning to his words, but the immediate change in Sander’s amused expression makes him aware of the slip.

Fuck.

“So you noticed. That I’ve been texting you less.”

Robbe drops his gaze, pulling the cover further up his body, feeling awkward again. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this.

Sander shifts on his bed, scratching at his head. “I felt like I was too much, you know? I wanted to share every silly thing with you, but then, well, it was something Josh said that I should,” he waves vaguely trying to find the right words, “cut back on my ‘running commentary’ ‘cause it’s probably annoying.”

“Tell Josh he’s stupid,” Robbe cuts in with a huff, grumpily beating his pillow into submission to make it more comfortable.

The corners of Sander’s mouth twitch at his comment, but his face remains sheepish. “I think he was mostly joking, but it got stuck in my mind and made me question every message. In the end, I didn’t send like half of them,” he explains softly, voice colored with poorly hidden self-consciousness. “I didn’t want to give you the impression I don't have time for you, I’m sorry.”

And, fuck. They’re both idiots.

Sander’s brows shoot up when Robbe bursts into giggles out of the blue, clearly surprised with the reaction. But at this point, it feels like the only proper thing to do.

“So basically we could have avoided this whole bullshit if we just talk about all this sooner,” he groans at the realization, burying half on his face in his pillow to hide his heated face because he’s a little embarrassed he blew things out of proportion.

There’s a visible relief on Sander’s face too, eyes crinkling as he regards him with a dopey grin, and Robbe knows.

They’re gonna be fine.

“Here I thought we were masters of communication,” Sander sighs with a faux-disappointment, leaning back to smile at the ceiling. “Fuck, no more of assuming shit, what do you think?”

And that sounds like something Robbe can get behind one hundred percent, more than ready to leave their misunderstandings in the past and just do better. So he nods, chin digging into his collarbone uncomfortably with the position he’s lying in, but it doesn’t matter, he’s too preoccupied with staring at his happy face and swimming in his fuzzy feelings.

“Prepare yourself for an onslaught of photos and messages, I’m not messing around,” Sander warns, smiling at Robbe’s soft okay. “You know, just a few days ago I ended up at Pebble Beach, it was cold as all fucks, but the view was just,” he imitates an explosion over his head and Robbe giggles at his childlike enthusiasm. Then, Sander’s face softens and becomes a little sad. “That place is so romantic that it made me feel like shit without you there,” he sighs, and Robbe can relate. “I’ll take you there one day.”

“You’re gonna take me to New York?” Robbe asks, doubt lacing his voice as he cocks his brow which makes Sander scoff in indignance.

“Hell yeah! You don’t believe me? What do you think I’m doing here everyday? I’m scouting the best places for dates, finding the best skateparks and checking out all the museums so I can be the perfect guide for you!” Sander throws his hands, a duh expression on his face, but there’s a wide smile brewing on his lips letting Robbe know he’s not really offended or anything. And, honestly, Robbe just melts with his words.

“I can’t wait, baby,” he sighs dreamily, rubbing his cheek against his pillow as he gazes at him with what he’s sure is the softest look.

Sander narrows his eyes playfully from above the can of Redbull he’s been sipping on. “Don’t ever doubt I’m gonna go out of my way to impress you.”

Robbe blows him a kiss that morphs into a huge yawn, eyelids growing heavy, forcing him to blink repeatedly to stay away which prompts Sander to tease him a little about boring him, but it quickly dies out and he’s just looking at him fondly.

“You should go to sleep.” He ignores Robbe’s melodic neeees, giving him a stern look that was probably supposed to be intimidating, but he looks too amused to keep it up. Once Robbe gets his promise they will see each other tomorrow, Sander sends him several virtual kisses and goodnights before logging off.

Robbe falls asleep with Sander’s beaming face flowing through his mind.

The sleep that comes is unsurprisingly the calmest he’s had in weeks.

Sunday, 18:00

Sander: And?

Robbe: And what?

Sander: Was I right?

Robbe: About?

Sander: About your friends

Robbe: Kinda

Sander: So it means I was 😎

Robbe: :):):) yes

Sander: Thank you sander

Robbe: Thank you sander

Sander: See, you're so precious everybody's in love with you and forgive you in seconds

Robbe: 🙄

Robbe: Precious srsly?

Sander: So precious 🥰

Robbe: Omg

Sander: Haha

Robbe: We're good 😊

Robbe: But I don't think they are in love with me 😂

Sander: They better not be 🤨 I'll fight them all! 🗡💀🧟🤺

Robbe: Dork ❤

Robbe: I think they a little bit in love with u though 🤔

Robbe: They've been babbling all afternoon about how cute you are 🙄

Robbe: A g a i n *yawn*

Sander: They have good taste 🤷♂️

Robbe: Nah they just don't know your annoying habits so that's why

Sander: 😮 I don't have any how dare you badmouthing me like that

Robbe: 🥴

Robbe: You never wash your coffee cups right away so they lay around

Robbe: You always tickle me when you want sth

Robbe: You're full of corny jokes

Robbe: You eat my fries when I don't look

Robbe: You hog the covers

Robbe: And I still remember that Wednesday when you ate my last bag of chips 💔

Sander: Okay first of all

Sander: Wow

Sander: Don't hold back 🥺

Sander: Second of all

Sander: I THOUGHT THOSE CHIPS WERE MILAN'S I TOLD YOU!!!

Robbe: That's what they all say 💔

Sander: You're unfair, I thought I made up for that lil mistake 🍆

Robbe: Well you did 🙈 but I still remember 😝

Sander: Also you love my jokes

Sander: They're awesome 🤧

Robbe: I'm just messing around 😘😘

Sander: 🥰

Robbe: But I swear to god if I have to listen one more time to Marie waxing lyricals about your 'perfect moles' I'm gonna 🤮

Sander: What haha 😂

Robbe: I mean they are but like

Robbe: Chill girl he's not your man 🤨

Sander: That's right cause I'm your man 😏

Robbe: And don't you forget that

Thursday, 3:48

Soft knuckles brush his skin, body arching into the touch that turns his muscles into jelly and sends liquid fire rushing through him. He’s overheated in the best way possible, seeking out Sander’s tongue, but the boy denies him access, smirk well in place as he pulls back, green eyes cloudy from lust. He’s staring at him like he wants to eat him whole and Robbe almost whimpers, bones melting and lids closing when Sander takes the tender flesh of his neck between his teeth and bites at it ever so gently, but just enough to make Robbe see stars.

He sighs as he feels a ghost of touch on his nipple, Sander leaving a trail of kisses down his sternum as he’s moving so teasingly slow to his final destination, and he doesn’t even hesitate, spreading his legs wider around Sander’s hips in a blatant invitation, blushing hot pink when Sander sends him a fox-like grin, mouthing at his inner thigh.

The details get fuzzy for a few seconds, Robbe blinking rapidly to get his surroundings and finding himself on top of Sander, and there’s an inkling at the back of his brain telling him something’s messed up about the logistics here. He decides to ignore it, focusing back on the moment and Sander’s glistening, kiss-swollen lips, on his eyes transfixed on the place where they’re connected, and he leans down, his tongue sweeping over his Sander’s bottom lip before he starts pressing soft, spit-slick kisses into his mouth. He pushes Sander’s hands up over his head and intertwines their fingers, arching his back as he takes over, the rush of pleasure almost overwhelming him.

“Ohmygod, Sander,” Robbe breathes into his mouth. His hands are trailing all over Sander’s chest and stomach now, squeezing and rubbing almost like he’s his personal plaything.

It’s not long before Sander’s warm hands draw him back towards his chest, lips ghosting along Robbe’s, teasing, always teasing, but not granting permission to properly meet, making Robbe impatient and whine in desperation only for Sander to grin wickedly at him. He feels nails dragging along his spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, stopping at his cheeks, massaging them to his heart content while Robbe can only pant, rocking back and forth and biting his bottom lip to keep from coming.

He’s an oversensitive, blissed out mess, trying to keep his eyes open to take a mental snapshot of Sander’s lust-blown pupils as they watch each other, Sander fucking him slowly and punching the prettiest sounds out of Robbe’s mouth.

Hips stuttering, he drops back down on his elbows to crash his lips against Sander’s, feeling his body tensing he’s so close and-

Eyes shot wide open, blinking harshly against the darkness of the room. His first instinct is to reach out to the other side of the bed, snuggle closer to the source of heat lying next to him, but his brain catches up with his hands quickly and he stops himself mid-reach, groaning as he flops back on the bed, disappointed. He kicks his covers down grumpily, letting cold air hit his overheated skin, frustrated and too awake to go to sleep now.

Fuck.

Thursday, 13:08

*photo attached*

Sander: Good morning x

Robbe: Heeyy sleepyhead 😘

Robbe: You look cute

Sander: I had very interesting dreams last night

Robbe: Oh yeah?

Sander: Yeah I'm still affected by them 😏

Robbe: Stop it I'm at a coffee shop with the guys!

Sander: I'll have to tell you about it tonight then 😈

Robbe: Can't wait 😘

Sander: Today at 16 my time right?

Robbe: Yep :)

Robbe: You know

Sander: Hmm?

Robbe: I might have some of those dreams too last night

Sander: 🥵🥵🥵

Sander: Do tell

Robbe: 🙈

Sander: Now I’m super intrigued 😈

Robbe: How about I tell you tonight

Robbe: With details

Robbe: Lots of them

Sander: Tonight can't come fast enough 😩

Sander: Looks like I will though 😏

Robbe: Omg you're such a dork 😂

Sander: Did it get u hot

Robbe: No wtf 😂

Sander: ☹🥺

Sander: Kay

Sander: I have to get up now

Sander: I'm late 🙄

Sander: Robin it's raining I don't wanna go out 😩

Robbe: Haha get your pretty ass out of bed and go be a good student!

Sander: Ugh fine 🙄

Sander: I love you ❤

Robbe: ❤

Sander: Hey no, not an emoji, tell me you love me ☹

Robbe: Haha

Sander: Come on

Robbe: 🤐

Sander: Robbe

Robbe: Gotta go 😌

Sander: Okay then 😔💔

Robbe: I love you too idiot ❤❤❤💯

Sander: Yesss 🥰

Sander: Hey that's my emoji 😏 so you like it after all

Robbe: 😂 go to class!!!

Sander: I'm going I'm going

Friday, 19:00

Robbe checks his phone for time again, not wanting to be late for his call with Sander, but there’s still about half an hour until he should get going. It’s been a pleasant evening and a while ago he would have never called any time of the day spent with his father ‘pleasant’, but there he is. Enjoying his dinner not only with him but also with his girlfriend of six months that he met in July when the first attempts to salvage the relationship with his dad have been made.

And it’s all because of Sander. The fact that he’s even here speaks volumes about his skill of persuasion. If it hadn’t been for his boyfriend, Robbe would have continued to stew in his own juices and ignored his dad.

“How is Sander doing? New York is a jungle.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “He’s good, he fits in well in the city vibe. But, um, he needs to stay a bit longer, till February actually ‘cause the school postponed the art show.”

He goes for another bite, frown on his face at the mere reminder of the change of plans.

“You probably hate it, huh?” his father questions.

His only response is to throw him a duuuh look, making his dad snort.

“You should visit him.”

Robbe looks up from over his spaghetti, expecting to see his dad laughing or winking at him, but both him and Margaux are looking at him with unsuspecting smiles, like the suggestion is the most obvious thing in the world.

He exhales a short dad in a laugh, glancing at them back and forth. “I don’t have a spare several thousand euros lying around waiting to be spent on a trip to New York,” he explains, slight exasperation in his voice.

“Oh I don’t think you’d need that much, Robbe,” Margaux smiles at him as she puts away her fork and reaches for her phone. “A few months ago I was actually backpacking with my friend through the East Coast and, wait, let me check, I have everything saved on my AirBnB account.”

Robbe gets back to his dinner as she scrolls on her phone, trying to squish the building hope in his chest away because even if it’s cheaper than he thinks, there’s still no way he can afford it; his equipment and books for school have eaten all of his savings.

“There it is! Look,” she scoots her chair closer to him, his dad peeking at the phone from the other side. “We stayed in Brooklyn for 98$ a day for a double bed, in Bedford to be exact and the conditions were really nice, plus the train station was close by. I’m sure you could find something half as cheap since it’s just you and the room can be tiny, just to sleep really.”

“That’s a reasonable price, I think,” his dad joins in, and then proceeds to ask her questions about her other expenditures while in the city and the flight prices, debating whether it’s better to drive to Frankfurt and take a direct flight from there or maybe decide on a layover flight from Brussels.

They are so into the planning and discussing the best options that they both jump slightly when Robbe speaks again, clearly forgetting he’s sitting right next to them, a picture of confusion.

“Guys, guys, wait. It doesn’t matter if it’s 1500 euros, or even 1000 euros because that’s still a 1000 euros more than I have to spend on a trip anywhere.”

His dad is so enthralled into checking different flights that he barely raises his head from above his phone, replying offhandedly, “I’ll pay for it.”

And, okay, no. Robbe gapes at him like he grew two heads, spluttering, because hell no.

“No way, I won’t take your money, dad.”

His vehement tone finally makes his father properly regard him and he sighs after a second. “Robbe, please don’t treat it as an attempt to buy you or your feelings.”

Straight to the point, his dad, always has been. It definitely is one the reasons for his refusal, but it’s not only that.

Robbe takes a deep breath to calm down. “Look, dad, it’s still lots of money. I can’t-”

“I’m many things, but irresponsible with money I’m definitely not. So if I say that I can pay for it, it means that I can afford it and it won’t affect me.” He gives him a pointed look. Before Robbe can argue again, he continues. “We can treat it as your Christmas gift. And next year’s birthday gift. And last two Christmases gifts as well.”

Robbe thinks about the packages he received from his father those holidays, and how he sent them back without even opening. Then, it definitely felt like buying his affection.

“You’ve been doing good at school, got into the university you wanted, you’ve been more responsible those last few years that I could’ve ever asked from you. Then you worked during the summer because you were adamant about paying for school stuff yourself. I think you earn it, Robbe. If you don’t want to go for other reasons, then that’s fine, but if it’s just about the money, please let me give you this.”

“New York is the kind of place everyone should visit at least one,” Margaux says gently. She has a warm smile that immediately made Robbe like her, despite really trying not to for obvious reasons. “And I think Sander would love for you to come visit too.”

Robbe has been torn before she spoke, but the mention of Sander reminds him of their videocall a while back, Sander telling him about places he was going to show him one day, being his guide and taking him to his favorite spots in the city. He can see it all vividly now when the opportunity is at his fingertips, can’t stop the excitement filling his body at the thought of seeing Sander before that dreadful February, even though he’s still now sure what to do.

While he’s been lost in his thoughts, trying to come to some conclusion, Margaux has been typing away at her phone. “Dates around Christmas are very expensive, but what would you say about, let’s say, December 8th? Til December 17th?”

Robbe wouldn’t even consider Christmas because there’s no way he would leave his mom alone for the holidays, but… the dates Margaux offered seem kinda perfect. His main project is due on December 4th so he wouldn’t have to worry about that and it’d be fine if he missed classes for those several days. Completely unaware, he finds himself making plans in his head before he even made a decision to accept his father’s money, but when his eyes snap to his dad’s, the small smile he gives him lets him know he already knows Robbe’s answer.

December 7th, 22:00

His excitement has been uncontainable the entire day, making him so giddy he had to cancel his regular call with Sander because his boyfriend would figure him out in seconds. And that’s the last thing he wants.

He’s still in shock that he somehow managed to keep it from him, planning a surprise in his head ever since he agreed to his dad’s help and working extra hard at uni to afford missing those 8 days of school. There’s apparently been one close call when Younes almost spilled the beans to Sander during their Zoom, but thank god for Yasmina who managed to effortlessly salvage the secret, improvising and coming up with an easy lie, leaving him unsuspicious of any ploy going on.

And Robbe just. He just can’t wait. He’s been counting hours since last week, his lips yearning to be kissed by his favorite person, body pining for touch and caress.

Lost in the dreams of their reunion, Robbe’s startled by a ping from his phone, lips stretching in a wide smile when he sees a notification from Sander’s instagram. He opens it, curious, melting when he’s greeted with a graffiti sign saying ENKEL LIEFDE, Sander’s style easily recognizable to him. Underneath, there’s a heart and his own handle and that shit never fails to make Robbe heart stutter. There’s a DM from Sander waiting for him as well, the same photo, but Sander’s caption says The High Line needed its own version of my love declaration for you, but unfortunately I couldn’t find enough space for a redo of your gorgeous face Robin :( So I did this :) You like it?

He replies with a bunch of red hearts, likes the post and adds another heart in a comment because there’s never too many of those. Then he flops back on his bed, a smile glued to his face.

Nineteen hours.

#wtfock

32 notes · View notes

formeandmyfics · 3 years

Text

Jugenea Fic

I’LL NEVER STOP WANTING YOU

When an almost divorced, and recently dumped, Judy goes out looking for a good time at an unfamiliar nightclub, Gene refuses to let her leave with a stranger.

1943

The streets of Metro’s east lot were quiet and empty as Gene walked down the black pavement waving through a lawn between rehearsal halls. The pavement was dewy as it just finished raining and the July air was muggy, sounds of crickets filled his ears.

He had his hands in his pockets and his steps were slow. It was after nine o’clock but he wasn’t in a hurry to get to his car. In fact, he wasn’t in a hurry to get home either. Like everyone else on a Friday evening, normally he would have already been out of there, but that was when he had something exciting to get to.

Judy crossed his mind. This time last year, while filming ‘My Gal’, the two couldn’t wait to meet up at Ciro’s on a Friday evening. They would dance and laugh and have fun with friends then end the night rolling around the back seat of his car like love struck teenagers. Frequently he would get off to her BJ or she to his fingers, but rarely they’d actually make love in the vehicle. That was mostly done in their trailers at the studio where they had privacy.

Lately, the only thing he looked forward to after work was Kerry. But right now she was out east with his parents for a few weeks, letting his family spend time with her during the summer.

He had just gotten back from filming in Europe and he and Betsy seemed to be off track again. He wanted to get back on it, but his determination that he had to fix his marriage, back when they had the baby last October, just wasn’t there as much as it used to be. He didn’t even feel like going to Ciro’s. If Judy was there, he was afraid he’d slip right back into what he tried so hard to avoid to work on his marriage. But, if she ended up not being there, he knew he’d also be disappointed. She was still his friend and gave him so much joy. He missed her sense of humor.

After the new year, they ended their affair. He wanted it more than her, he could tell, but she wanted one last shot at saving her new, but defeating marriage to Dave. Shortly after, he heard about her nervous collapse on the set of ‘Girl, Crazy’ followed by three weeks of rest. Roger informed him, over coffee in the commissary one day, that it was that God-damn Busby that was the result. Gene suspected their split was a part of it as well, though he never asked her. Never had a chance.

In March they reunited to record a radio adaptation of their picture, and Judy sent him flirtatious signals that only he would recognize, but he made a point to ignore them. She remained cordial.

Four months.

He hadn’t seen her, or spoken to her, for four months. He read about her in the paper, spoke of her with mutual friends, heard her on the radio, but hadn’t seen her lovely face since then. Gene knew one thing; he was coming off a withdrawal from Judy Garland and it wasn’t fun. It was a total downer.

Gene jingled his car keys in his pocket as he could see the east parking lot up ahead, but he felt something in that moment that people rarely felt there: peace. It was the most deserted and silent he had ever heard Metro. Except for a janitor or construction worker rolling by on a golf cart, he was alone. It felt nice. He sat down on a bench outside Goldwyn Hall, a two-story brick building, named after one of the studio’s founding fathers. Upstairs were vocal rehearsal rooms and downstairs were songwriter and lyricist's offices. Gene had spent a lot of time in that building when he first came to Metro last year.

After Gene sat down, he bent his head forward, as he rested his elbows on his knees, and spun his keys around his finger. But, an echo of music started playing behind him. It was piano. He quickly grasped his keys to silence them when he heard Judy’s voice. His first initial reaction was that someone had the radio on or was playing back a recording, but her voice went from faint then got stronger.

Gene lifted his head when he heard her stop, then start over again. That was her. He turned around on the bench and looked up at the second story window that was open and the light was on. He felt his heart flutter when he realized she was up there. Gene double checked his watch. She wasn’t working this late was she? Maybe with Roger? His office was downstairs. Curious, but also failing to stop the urge to see her again, he got up and walked inside.

Judy was sitting alone at the piano in one of the small rehearsal rooms, her beautiful and distinctive voice bouncing off of every corner, as she sang, and played, ‘But Not For Me’.

Gene was leaning his shoulder on the wall, behind the see-through, glass door as he watched her. Even though the door was shut, he could still clearly hear her. She was lost in the song, playing by heart, singing with certain expressions; it was as if she were still in front of the cameras.

When Judy mindlessly glanced up, she did a double take, seeing him. Through the sound of music, she could suddenly hear her own heartbeat thudding. She was surprised to see him, but at the same time, wasn’t. He tended to show up at places like this, at the strangest of times. She noted how handsome, and relaxed he looked leaning there behind the glass watching her.

She genuinely smiled through a lyric acknowledging him. Her voice didn’t falter nor did the keys.

He had been spotted, Gene thought, and he pulled the door open. She continued the song, her eyes following him as he slowly walked over to the piano. He seemed so shy that his steps were careless, his heels scuffling against the floor.

Leaning his elbows on the piano his eyes didn’t quite catch hers as he listened. Instead, he glanced at the music on top of the piano. He knew she couldn’t read a note of music, that’s why she wasn’t using it. She had this uncanny way of knowing how to sing a song, and play it on piano, once hearing the melody only once, twice at most. Something only he, and a very few others knew, was that she played the piano. She refused to have that small pleasure taken away to be a money making venture.

When her fingers played the last few notes of her current song, she kept her eyes glued on Gene who looked a little melancholy, tapping his pointed finger against the sheet music, obviously lost in his thoughts. It made her feel a little uneasy, and sad, so she purposely started playing the beginning to ‘For Me and My Gal’. Gene instantly smiled before looking over at her. She smiled back.

“Ding, Dong, Ding, Dong...” she sang the opening verse.

“Do you hear the bells go ding dong,” he chimed while singing with her.

They both chuckled and she stopped playing as she sat on the bench next to her.

“How are you, darling,” she asked.

“Oh, just swell. You?”

“Oh, life’s just a bowl of cherries.”

She sounded cheery, but he knew her comment was more sarcastic. He had read about her separation from her husband and that she had just recently moved into a house up in Bel Air. He also heard about her short-lived affair with Joe Mackiewicz out in Palm Springs where she had filmed the rest of her Mickey picture. Rumor was that married Mackiewicz just wanted fun but Judy wanted more. Gene didn’t usually pay much attention to gossip, but this time he had a feeling it was true. It could almost be the same thing that happened to them, though Gene didn’t just see her as a piece of ass, like he was sure a man like Joe did, Gene had fallen for her; mind, body and soul.

“What are you doing up here all alone, toots?”

“I have a radio show tomorrow night to promote ‘Girl, Crazy’. I was just going over a few songs. What about you? You’re never at the studio this late.”

“I was doing some post-ADR for my picture. Then got caught up in a choreography session for a film I might do for Columbia in a few months.”

“Columbia,” Judy said shocked, “I’m surprised Mr. Mayer is letting them borrow you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because studios usually don’t like to hand out their big stars.”

“I’m no Gable, sweetheart.”

“Yet,” she emphasized confidently, with her finger up, “Each film you’ve done so far has been big box office draws and you’ve gotten raves in the papers.”

“Yeah, all three of them,” he rolled his eyes, “Our film was a hit because of you, baby, and ‘Pilot #5’ egh, first dramatic role, wasn’t too great in it. And you know ‘DuBarry’ was all Red and Lucy Ball.”

“That isn’t true.”

“It is. When ‘Thousands Cheer’ comes out I’m sure it will be a hit because, as you know, it’s a star-studded film. I’m sure this war film I just finished will be better than the first dramatic film I did, we’ll see.”

Judy stared at him not believing her ears and he sat there so casually.

“Gene,” she said quite sternly.

“Huh?”

“You know, you’re making me a little angry,” she giggled but was serious.

“Why,” he chuckled back.

“You really need to give yourself more credit.”

“I don’t care about any of that stuff, Judy. I just want to choreograph and dance and work with other great actors. Reviews and box office draws don’t mean a thing to me.”

“Let me ask you something. If our film sank, after how hard we worked on it, wouldn’t you have been disappointed?”

“No, because it brought me to you,” he said smiling cheekily.

She laughed, “I’m serious. Put me out of the equation.”

“Impossible,” he interrupted.

“Really, though. Darling, when you’re passionate about a film, when you really believe in it, and you worked your butt off, and you want it to be something great, and then it tanks, it can be really disheartening.”

“You sound like you’ve been through this before.”

She nodded, “‘Wizard of Oz’. You don’t know how long I worked on that film. It was fun but really hard. By the end, I just knew we had something great. Then when I went to see it, and it didn’t have the reaction we all hoped, it kinda broke my heart. I always thought that it was me, that it would have done better if they had stuck with Shirley.”

“Shirley who?”

“Temple.”

“Get out of here.”

“Mm hm. They were juggling us back and forth but Fox wouldn’t let Shirley go back then.”

“She’s a sweetie pie, but she’s a baby actor and dancer, not a singer. ‘Over the Rainbow’,” he gave her a silly look showing her that it was destined to be a Judy Garland song only, “Please.”

Judy giggled, “See. And that’s what always wins...music. Even if a film doesn’t do well, or the story is not that great, a good musical number or song will always be remembered. Rainbow is mine. What will be yours?”

Gene looked at her taken back a bit, though he wasn’t all surprised. She always came off beyond wise for her years.

“I will always take pride in my dancing. I did the same on Broadway.”

“Ok. And hold onto that, because your dancing, or a particular musical number of yours, will be the heart of even the worst of films,” she teased. “It only takes 2 minutes of you tap dancing like you did in ‘DuBarry’ that will be remembered out of a 90 minute film. Be proud of it and don’t hold yourself short. And if you find yourself disappointed, that means you’re passionate about it, and that’s ok, too.”

Gene looked at her slyly and pressed a few keys on the piano, his ego shooting through the roof.

“My biggest fan.”

Judy wrapped her arms around his bicep and leaned her cheek against his shoulder, “Are you mine?”

Gene stiffened a bit. Her question was bouncing from his statement, but her voice suggested something entirely different.

“You know I’ll always be your biggest fan, Judy. Always gonna stand by and root for ya, honey.”

“I’ve missed you,” she said sweetly, raising her head to rest her chin on his shoulder now, staring at the side of him as he looked away from her angelic face.

“I know. I’ve been busy with work. I’ve been out promoting the last film and then I was across the pond filming ‘Cross of Lorraine’. I just got back last week. I haven’t even been out to any clubs. I know you were filming out on location, too.”

Judy’s face dropped a bit, “That’s not what I meant.”

He sighed, “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Haven’t you missed me?”

“I’ve missed my best friend.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes. I can’t cross that line.”

“What line,” she asked annoyed.

“The line you’re on, baby,” he said looking back at her trying to make his point clear without hurting her feelings. But, it was already too late.

Judy slid her arms from his and sat up straight. She tried to distract herself as she played some keys, pretending to get back to rehearsing. Gene also read her point cloud and clear.

“I’m glad I got to see you again. I’ll tell ya one thing,” he said reaching under her chin to have her look up at him, “I’ve missed that face.”

Judy just blinked, no expression present, but he could read her eyes, she was upset. But she had to get over it, over him.

“Go home and get some rest.”

“It’s lonely there, you know.”

“Then distract yourself. Go out with some friends, go to Ciro’s. You love that and you don’t have to be here tomorrow.”

Judy brushed his hand off of her and went back to playing.

Gene was silent a moment before he leaned down and kissed her cheek, “Good night.

When the door shut behind him, Judy pound her hands on the keys and stood up, “Fine. I will go out. I’m going to go out and find a man who will actually want me,” she said to herself as she collected her purse.

Gene pulled up at a red light on Venice Boulevard, his head and his heart in an emotional battle, when he heard a honk. Looking over, his buddy Van Johnson was smiling, motioning for him to roll his window down. Gene smiled back, and leaned far over to roll the passenger side down.

"Hey buddy," Van said cheerfully.

"What are you doing out in this part of town this late? You're usually out hob-knobbing on Friday nights."

"Had a late dinner with Evie and a couple of her girlfriends. She wanted to stay, so I high-tailed it out of there."

Gene looked ahead making sure the light was still red, "Too much cock in the hen house?"

"Exactly. What are you doing out this way?"

"Just left the studio," Gene motioned behind him, where the studio stood a few minutes back.

"This late?" Gene nodded and Van continued, "Damn. Well, you got any plans?”

"Nope."

"You wanna go out and have a few?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. But let's do one of the joints on Melrose. I don't feel like swinging with Hollywood tonight."

The light turned green so they quickly ended their conversation.

"How about Blue Martini, Melrose and La Cienega?"

"I gotta go home and change first. I'll meet you there," Gene shouted as they started rolling as cars honked behind both of them.

He chuckled when he saw Van, in his rearview mirror, throw his hand out the window at the car behind him.

When Gene arrived home, the house was dark and quiet. Upstairs, Betsy was curled in bed with a book and the radio going next to her.

"Hi."

"Hi. You're home late."

"I know. I stayed and worked on some ideas for that 'Cover Girl' picture coming up. And I ran into Judy when I was leaving," he said casually as he started to unbutton his shirt.

"Oh yeah? How's she doing," Betsy asked a bit uninterested as she continued to read her suspense book.

"Fine. Didn't talk too long. She just got back from filming on location, too."

"I'm surprised you didn't catch up with her. You haven't seen her for a while, right," Betsy said now placing the book in her lap, "You two became good friends back on your picture. Maybe we can arrange to all have dinner sometime."

Gene froze for a moment before walking into the walk-in closet. He had mentioned Judy casually, to keep it unsuspecting, but now the conversation was going further than he meant.

Speaking up from the closet he changed the subject real fast, "Van pulled up next to me at a red light. Invited me out for a few drinks right now," he poked his head out, "I know you're all comfy, but do you want to come with me?"

"No, thanks," she said smiling sheepishly as she snuggled further into bed to hint to him that she was very comfy, "But you go ahead."

Gene leaned back and raised his eyebrows to himself as he picked out a fresh dress shirt. He wasn't surprised at her response. She rarely liked to go out lately, not since they moved to Los Angeles. He understood at first. Perhaps she was shy. He was always able to persuade her then though. Then pregnancy happened, then the baby was born. He understood that as well. But Kerry was nine months old now. His wife could at least try but she got way too comfortable being a homebody while Gene enjoyed the nightlife.

June Allyson held hands with Judy as she led her through the crowded nightclub called the Blue Martini on Melrose not too far from Paramount Studios. Judy knew most of her pals were at The Player’s Club or Ciro’s or another joint on the Sunset Strip. She wanted to go out and have a night of flirtatious fun with someone she didn’t know. Judy knew if she were to go to Ciro’s, as Gene suggested, which was one of her favorite places, then word would get back to Mr. Mayer of her indiscretions and she didn’t feel like spending Monday morning in his office getting another talking to.

Judy didn’t want to show up somewhere alone, and she didn’t know many other bars, so she didn’t want to end up in some dive. She had to think of someone whom she trusted that would know where to go. That brought her to her new friend, June. She was new to Metro and had a small part in ‘Girl, Crazy’. They had hit it off right away. June had the same sense of humor as Judy. And even though on the outside she was the ‘girl next door’, June had street smarts from working on Broadway and living alone in New York. Judy, of course, didn’t know June well enough to tell her of her goal for the night; to have a one-night stand, or at least a good time with a handsome stranger. But, June knew exactly where to go. She described the club as a little jazz gem away from the high-ballers. That’s exactly what Judy wanted.

The club was much smaller than the other places she was used to, but it was still charming, and sexy. The smoke-filled nightclub had an ambience of blue lighting and there was a gorgeous, lit up fountain in the middle of the club.

Judy looked around as June led her swiftly towards a free table over by the bar. She passed many people, ones she didn’t recognize, but they still had an elegant look to them which relaxed her a bit. She definitely was not in some drunkard’s dive.

As they passed a booth of men in suites talking over Brandy, Judy caught a man’s eye. He smiled and looked her up and down as she was rushed by. Judy had just enough time to glance back at him over her shoulder smiling back. She wasn’t sure if he recognized her or not, but she didn’t care at that point. She was already ahead of her goal and he was very handsome.

“Thank goodness we got a table, it’s almost standing room only,” June said sitting down.

“This is great. Where on earth did you find this place?”

“I came here with Lucy a few months ago when we were filming ‘Best Foot Forward’. Her husband was playing here with his band for a few weeks during ‘Rumba’ night. I thought it was a cute place.”

“It’s just what I needed. And look, no cameras going off in your face.”

“That must be hard, to try to have a good time and then you have cameramen running up to you.”

“I really don’t mind it all that much. I guess I’ve gotten used to it, but tonight I wanted to be away from all that. You, darling, will soon find out what it feels like.”

“I’ll be on my way up, that’s what they tell me. I don’t mind though, you know? I’m just happy to be here at the studio working. And,” June said, reaching over to grab Judy’s hand warmly, “To have made friends with you.”

“Me, too. You’re a doll.”

“Cocktails, ladies,” a waitress in a sleek, black uniform asked.

“A glass of red Cabernet for me, please.”

“Top shelf whiskey sour.”

“You got it.”

Chatter filled the nightclub as the band went on break. Judy looked back over her shoulder at the table. She saw the man look at her but he was immersed in his conversation in the booth. She decided to let some cocktails sink in, and music come back, before she got more courage to continue her quest.

“I heard from Arthur that he wants L.B. to put you on contract, that’s a sure thing of being on your way up.”

“He’s talking about having me star in some film with Van Johnson. Until then, I'm still doing my side parts, but I've met so many greats. I really don’t care if I climb up or not. I do hope maybe one day we can work together.”

“I would love that. I would love to sing with you. You sound like a bell.”

“Me,” June sarcastically said, pointing to herself reminding them of who just made that compliment. Both ladies giggled.

“I swear, between you and Gene, it’s like you have no confidence in your talent.”

“Gene?”

“Kelly. Have you met him yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve seen your picture though. It was swell and looked like fun.”

“It was a lot of fun. That was his first picture, you know.”

“I know. I heard that you helped him get it.”

“I wanted him for it and I’m glad the studio listened. His talent is beyond amazing, June, it really is. And we became very good friends.”

“Oh, I could tell that. I would see you two hanging out together outside your sound stages in between takes. I think you were both doing separate films. Ya, he was doing a film with Lucy.”

“Yah. You should have come hung out with us.”

“I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, I was still so new and shy. I’d see you and duck into a stairwell.”

“Oh, stop,” Judy laughed. “You know, Gene was just talking to me earlier about not caring if he gets ahead, all he wants to do is dance and work.”

“I suppose that’s what being green in this industry is all about.”

“Here you are, ladies.”

“Thank you.”

June held up her glass, “To being green.”

“But having confidence in your talent,” Judy said back and the girls clinked glasses before sipping.

June made a noise as she sipped and quickly took her glass away from her lips, “Speak of the devil.”

“What?”

“Gene Kelly just walked in.”

Judy giggled, wiping her pink-polished fingers on her cocktail napkin to rid the wetness of her glass’s condensation. Clearly, June was teasing.

“Van Johnson is with him, too.”

Judy’s eyes widened as she looked up at June, who stared over her shoulder with curious eyes taking another sip of her wine.

“No, they aren’t,” Judy mumbled to herself and turned to look herself.

Yes, they were.

Judy watched as the men figured out where to go in the crowded room. She turned back around and closed her eyes. After Gene’s rejection, he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

“Want to go say hi?”

“You know, I- I’m sure they came here for the same reason we did...to not be bothered. Let’s just leave them alone.”

“Too late, honey, Van’s pointed at us,” she lowered her voice in a deep undertone to be playful, “You’ve been spotted.”

Gene was steps behind Van as he bee lined for the small table for two where Judy sat with a woman that he kind of recognized. He was a bit shell-shocked to see Judy at this joint and it showed plain as day on his face.

“Hiya sweet cheeks,” Van said as he made no hesitation in cuddling Judy hard from the side, to where her chair even scooted with the force of the embrace, and he planted a big kiss on her cheek.

She giggled, and glanced up at Gene, a smile on her face, but she didn’t look too thrilled. Gene could see that.

“You know my buddy here,” Van said sarcastically introducing Gene to Judy.

“Clark Gable,” Gene replied, “I think we’ve met once or twice before,” he replied just as sarcastically.

“I don’t recall,” she said a bit cattily, smiling and batting her lashes.

Gene’s smile dropped but June spoke up, “And I do recall that I haven't met you yet, Mr. Kelly.”

Gene turned his attention to June, “And who might you be, my dear?”

“June Allyson,” Van replied, “Up and rising star at our alma mater. And hopefully my next leading lady.”

“Hopefully.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you around the lot. How do you do, Miss Allyson?”

“June.”

“Then it’s Gene to you.”

“I was just telling Judy how wonderful I thought your film was.”

“Which film is that?”

He shot Judy a look at his intentional remark and it was Judy’s turn to look at Gene sans smile.

Judy perched her lips irritated before nearly speaking through her teeth, a forced smile plastered, “The one we did together, darling.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Van, buddy, how about we head to the bar? There’s two seats at the end.”

“Ladies, would you like some company? Two women alone in the bar calls for two gentleman callers.”

“Unfortunately, this is a table for two, sweetie,” Judy replied sweetly.

“There’s always our laps,” Van winked.

Judy nervously scratched her neck and chuckled, turning red. She knew which lap she’d end up on and was afraid Gene would push her off.

“And where is Evie,” June asked, mischievously bringing up his girlfriend’s name.

“Hey, I can look but not touch right?”

“Down boy,” Gene said, grabbing Van’s bicep, “I think we might’ve intruded on girl’s night.”

“Then I shall bow out gracefully.”

“Thank you,” Judy said, smiling genuinely and accepted a peck on the lips from her friend.

After Van kissed Judy goodbye, he gave June’s hand a kiss and followed Gene to the bar.

As time went by, even though Judy could feel Gene’s eyes on her, she refused to turn to look at him. Luckily, a few of Van’s friends showed up and the five of the men got lost in conversation, taking Gene’s attention away from her. At one point, Judy could even hear Gene’s laughter from across the way as the men got rowdy.

June and Judy got lost in gossip and anecdotes and enjoyed each other's company along with the live music.

After the waitress put down another fresh drink for Judy, June smiled sheepishly as she just took the last sip of her 2nd glass of wine.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mm, good. How about you?”

“Fine, but I’m not the one drinking my cocktails like water.”

Judy blushed, “They’re good.”

June giggled. She knew well enough that Judy Garland wasn’t an alcoholic. She just needed a well-deserved night off, but June decided that they’d probably be best taking a cab home instead of Judy’s personal chauffeur who had dropped them off. June was still new to this side of business, and didn’t know if she could trust him. Last thing Judy needed was word to get out from her driver that MGM’s ‘it’ girl got inebriated.

Judy looked over at the booth, where the man she first made eyes with was, but he was no longer there. She didn’t notice Gene looking at her as she leaned far back in her chair to look past his group. Curious, he looked behind him to see what or who she was looking at.

Seeing that booth now vacant, Judy decided she’d have to find someone else to flirt with, but first was going to freshen up.

“I’m going to use the washroom,” she said standing up, “I’ll be right back.”

Before June could even respond, Judy lost her balance a bit and June quickly grabbed Judy’s arm and the table that wobbled. Judy found it hilarious as she steadied herself, her infectious laugh louder than anyone else’s in the room.

Her laugh even got Gene’s attention as he watched her walk away from the table. Catching eyes with June, she made a funny drinking motion to tell him Judy was ok but drank too much. He sighed heavily through his nose giving her a nod in acknowledgement.

Judy returned a few minutes later and tried to sit down elegantly, but ended up wobbling the table again.

“Oops.”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“No.”

“I’ll order an appetizer. You gotta eat when you drink.”

“Yes, mother,” she giggled, “I didn’t realize how fast it hit me until I went to the bathroom.”

“That’s usually how it happens.”

“See any cute men walk by while I was gone?”

“I haven’t really paid attention. Why? Are you looking?”

“Maybe,” Judy said back innocently.

Just then they heard a male’s voice next to them, “Sorry to intrude…”

Judy and June both looked up to find the same man that had made eyes at Judy earlier. Judy was pleasantly surprised. He looked to be in his 30's, was tall, great posture, with dark blonde hair and a pearly white smile.

“I don’t normally do this, but Miss Garland, would you mind terribly if I asked for an autograph?”

That answered Judy’s question whether he had recognized her or not.

“I’d love to.”

He handed her a pen and grabbed a clean cocktail napkin on their table sliding it in front of her.

She smiled amused, “Is it for anyone in particular?”

“Myself. Just your name is fine.”

After signing, Judy handed it back to him.

“Lovely,” he said looking at her beautiful signature and folded it up putting it in his pocket, “My name is Tom, but I just used this as an excuse to come over and talk to you especially since we noticed one another when you walked in.”

Judy smiled flirtatiously, very amused now at his frankness. June saw the look on Judy’s face, she tried to suppress her giggle.

“I don’t mind. But I am curious as to why it took you so long to come over.”

The man’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling back, and June cleared her throat.

“I’m going to see what the boys are up to,” she said, grabbing her wine glass.

“Miss,” he said as June smiled at Judy and slipped on by them.

Tom immediately sat down in her seat without asking, “I, ah, I hope your friend doesn’t mind.”

“She doesn’t,” Judy said leaning her chin on her hands, “She can tell I’m interested.”

Judy was never this brave off the bat but the alcohol was helping tremendously and she wanted to have fun. Not only that, she was more confident knowing the man was interested back and her body craved attention.

“Are you now,” he said, his ego boosted.

“Mm hm. You’re very handsome, you know.”

“Well, I always thought you were cute on screen, but you’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it. You’re a dish,” his eyes seductively eyed her up and down, “How about another drink?”

“I really shouldn’t,” she said in her most adorable voice. It was definitely an act, but it never failed to get her what she wanted, “I’m already quite tipsy.”

“I see no problem with that, honey,” he said back suggestively. To others, the comment would be seen as a red flag, but it flew right over Judy’s intoxicated head.

“I’ll finish this drink and start drinking water. So, Tom, what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer downtown. But work-talk is boring.”

“Oh, good. I despise small talk.”

“Then ask me something interesting.”

“Mm, are you single?”

He leaned forward on his elbows like she was, “I am...currently. You?”

“Uh...currently.”

“Maybe we can change that.”

“Yeah,” she asked intrigued, thinking they could possibly go to another nightclub alone, “Well, what are you doing after this?”

“Hopefully I’m looking at it.”

Judy looked at him a little taken back but she was definitely not displeased nor insulted.

“How about a dance, sugar?”

“I’d love it,” she replied and took his hand.

She was lightheaded but feeling very good and let him guide her to the dance floor where other couples were currently slow dancing.

Gene’s eyes stayed glued on Judy and the man as they embraced closely on the dancefloor as everyone around him were rowdy and took no notice. They were too close for Gene’s comfort, especially since he didn't recognize the man. By now, he had become accustomed to all her mutual friends.

“June,” Gene asked as her back was turned to him while she spoke with Van.

“Hm?”

“Who is that dancing with Judy?”

“I don’t know. He came up asking for an autograph just so he could talk to her. That’s why I came over here. They were pretty flirty.”

Gene watched them intently. He could definitely see Judy was not uncomfortable in his arms, but she was drunk. The man knew that, too, and he was sure that he was using it to his advantage.

When the third dance started, their faces were inches apart as they spoke. Gene was becoming more alert and more worked up. He didn’t care if Judy was coming onto the man, it wasn’t right. She was under the influence, feeling vulnerable, not to mention she was a famous celebrity. She couldn’t just go around with random men. It would get her into trouble, in more ways than one. He wasn’t thinking as a jealous ex-lover, he was thinking as her best friend.

When Judy slipped her arms around the guy's neck suggestively as their hips slowly swayed, his hand slid down her ass, cupping the bottom of it. When she didn’t move his hand away, Gene placed his glass on the bar with a loud thump. It was so loud that it got June’s attention. She looked to where Gene was staring.

Gene didn’t even notice June until he saw her walk up to Judy.

“Judy,” June asked, tapping Judy’s back.

The couple turned to her but remained in their stance.

“Hm?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment,” June politely looked at the man, “Sorry.”

Tom didn’t falter and looked down at Judy completely turned on.

“Is it an emergency,” Judy asked concerned.

“No.”

“Well, then, as you can see I’m a little busy right now, darling,” she said, placing her hand on the man’s chest as they started twirling again, “I’ll talk to you later…” she then gave a slurred giggle, “...or more like tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” the man agreed.

As an irritated June walked back towards the bar she mumbled, “Should’ve lied and said it was an emergency.”

Gene was paying his bill when June came back up to him.

“Gene, uh, I know we don’t know each other, but we’re both Judy’s friends, and I have to tell you, I don’t like what’s going on over there.”

“No,” he simply said, agreeing, as he threw down a hefty tip on the edge of the bar for the bartender.

“I realize she’s a grown woman, and separated from her husband, but she’s had too much to drink, you know? She’s not thinking straight.”

“Yep,” he said, as it was nothing new to what had already gone through his mind, “What did she say when you went over?”

“Didn’t want to talk to me. They seem pretty intent on leaving together and I don’t think it’s a good idea especially in her state. What if she regrets it or something bad happens?”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

“It won’t?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to let it. She’s too good a friend of mine for me to let her leave with some guy she doesn’t know. Plus,” he emphasized, “she’s Judy Garland.”

“That was my thought, too,” June looked over to the dance floor and didn’t see them. She looked at their table which was still empty, “Gene, where did they go?”

Gene quickly looked around and didn’t see them either. When he whipped his body towards the door, it was just enough time for him to see them exit holding hands.

“Oh, nope,” he said sternly as he grabbed his fedora, “Nope.”

June watched as she saw Gene swiftly head towards the door.

Gene didn’t see them when he first walked out the doors but he heard her loud laugh echo from around the corner and his steps became longer and faster. When he turned the corner, he saw Judy wobble on her heels but the man laughed with her and secured an arm around her waist. Tom reached down, giving her a kiss on the cheek as they headed towards a black Cadillac.

That son-of-a-bitch, Gene thought as his steps became angry the closer he got to them. Before he knew it, he grabbed Judy's free hand.

“Thanks,” he said to the other man as he started pulling her away, but Judy quickly resisted.

“Gene, what are you doing?”

Her horrified voice made Tom quickly grab her again around the waist to hold her back to him and she didn’t resist him.

“You’re coming with me,” Gene stated calmly.

“I am what,” she laughed ridiculously.

“Who is this joker,” Tom asked her, not recognizing him.

“It’s alright, Tom. He’s a friend of mine,” Judy looked at Gene angrily, “And if he doesn’t back off, he won’t be any longer.”

Gene didn’t falter, “Judy, let’s go.”

“I am going. I’m going with my new friend here.”

“Going to do what?”

“I don’t think that is any of your business.”

“It’s definitely not his business,” Tom added.

“Would you really like to know, Gene,” she said with that intentional voice of hers, egging him on.

“Oh, yeah?” Gene asked and took a step towards her, challenging her and his voice came out disgusted, “I bet you don’t even know his last name.”

Even through glassy eyes, she suddenly showed guilt, and was quiet.

“Look, back off, Bud. She’s a big girl.”

Gene’s eyes didn’t leave Judy’s but she looked down almost ashamed and he spoke sternly but calmly, “Judy.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Tom chuckled.

Judy had looked up at Gene with that last comment, and her expression showed horror. Even with the extremely fuzzy effects of the alcohol, she knew that to Gene those were fighting words.

Gene chuckled back, but then he took a step aside ready to fight, but Judy quickly placed her hands on his chest.

“Gene,” she pleaded.

“Come on, babe, let's go,” Tom said and turned to walk to his car.

“She’s not a *babe*, asshole, she’s a lady. Let’s go,” Gene suddenly bent down and swooped Judy over his shoulder. She gasped and held onto his back as he started walking them the other direction.

“Gene! PUT ME DOWN! GENE!”

He ignored her yells and her fists on his back, but when she suddenly kicked, her stiletto got a little too close.

“Judy, for Christ sakes, you almost kicked me in the head.”

He turned the corner back in front of the club where his car was parking in front and immediately saw June and Van run out.

“I should kick you in the balls for ruining my night,” Judy spat back.

“Van, open the back door of my car, will ya.”

Van seemed amused as he did what he was told. Gene set Judy down and tried to put her in the back seat but she again resisted.

“Get in there.”

“I’m not going in there. I came with June.”

“Judy, dammit, you’re testing my patience. Now, get in the goddamn back seat before I throw you in.”

Judy knew he was serious, but she still protested, “I swear, if you do this Gene, never come crawling back to me again. I mean it, we’re over for good. And we’re no longer friends either!”

“Crawling back to her,” Van asked, confused as hell.

Gene’s eyes widened at her before he turned around to face the confused pair, “I have no idea what gibberish she’s talking about. The booze has obviously made her mentally and verbally unstable.”

Judy shrieked insulted.

“Now GET IN THERE!”

“ALRIGHT,” she screeched back shocked from his angry yell at her and she went into the backseat.

Gene slammed the door before turning back to his friends exhausted.

“I’ll give Junie a ride home. Don’t worry about it,” Van said.

“Here. This is hers,” June smiled and handed him Judy’s small purse.

Gene looked at it and nodded before walking around to the drivers side. He tossed the purse in the backseat carelessly, almost hitting her, as he got in.

“Hey!”

Van and June both smiled as they heard Judy yell through the closed windows and then they watched them drive off.

The car was silent, not even the radio was on, as Gene’s eyes met hers though the rearview mirror as he rolled up to the first red light.

“You realize you almost ratted us out back there?”

Judy whimpered as she readjusted herself in the backseat, leaning her head back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Van and June. You nearly told them about us.”

“We’re not together anymore. Who cares,” she said in a slurred speech.

“I care. You may not be with your husband anymore, but my wife would also care. Oh, she’d care a lot.”

“THEN GO HOME TO HER,” Judy suddenly yelled as she sat up with determination. It was obviously a sore spot.

“Would you lower your voice? Geez,” he said, wiggling his finger in his ear.

“Slow down,” she said leaning her head back again, “I’m dizzy. Better yet, just drop me off here. Then you can go back to your marriage.”

“Drop you off,” he chuckled, “on the corner of Melrose. I’m sorry, honey, but you don’t fit in with the prostitutes. And I’m not going back to my ‘marriage’ as you call it, until I know you’re ok.”

“You might want to rephrase that, Gene,” she said sadly.

He realized what he said and sighed, “What I meant to say was…”

“I know what you meant,” she replied, knowing he wouldn’t go back home until she was home herself.

When they arrived at her home in Bel Air, Judy was fast asleep. After he opened the passenger door, he stared at her angelic face for a moment. She sure was a spit fire, but right now she looked like such an innocent child. It was the same when he had stared at her asleep in his arms after they had just had a naughty and solicitous encounter or had one of their amusing arguments. So many emotions were running through him.

He got her keys out of her purse before lifting her in his arms. With a bit of a struggle, he did manage to get them both inside, but it wasn’t easy with her near flaccid body hanging off of him. Gene stood there a moment. He knew where she lived but he had never been inside before. It was charming.

Once he got up the stairs, he headed straight into the first bedroom he came upon but stopped short. That wasn’t her room, he thought. It was fully furnished, but it didn’t seem like her. Figuring it was a guest room, he kept going down the hall. He walked past a bathroom and an office before heading straight for the open double doors at the end of the hall.

Oh, yes, this definitely was her room. The bed was large and opulent, with one of her slips laying in the middle of the floor and a chiffon scarf over her vanity’s mirror. It even smelled like her perfume.

After laying Judy on her bed, he carefully slipped off her slip on stilettos.

“Where am I,” she mumbled very sleepily.

“You’re home, in your bed,” he said as he walked over to set her Chanel shoes on the dresser. One, he knew how much she took care of her designer pieces, and two he didn’t want her to trip over them if she were to drunkenly wander out of bed. Last thing he needed was her to fall and hit her head on the dresser.

When he turned back around he saw her half sitting up trying to reach for the back of her zipper, but her movements were lazy and she couldn’t reach. He walked on over and unzipped the dress for her and helped her out of it. After it was off, wearing a two-piece white silk camisole and nude thigh high stockings, she fell back on the bed happy to go back to sleep.

Gene proceeded to cover her with a throw that was on the end of her bed, but she kicked it off.

“You need to lay on your side, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

Judy moaned, the skin between her eyes wrinkling in dissatisfaction, as he pulled her shoulder so she was on her side.

“Why?”

“Because if you get sick, you can choke.”

“Mmm, that’s all anyone needs to see...” she mumbled, arranging herself on her side, “...Louis B. Mayer’s ‘Darling Judy’ puking her brains out.”

Gene chuckled as he went into the master bedroom to get a glass of water for her, and a few aspirin. Setting it next to her, he looked around making sure everything was in order before he left.

“There’s water right here, Judy, if you need it, and aspirin. Do you need anything else before I go?”

“Don’t go, please.”

“You’re safe and sound in your bed now. Just get some sleep.”

“Please,” she said with her eyes closed and reached her hand up in the air for him. He took it in both his hands.

It was a moment before she spoke half-asleep, “My husband stopped wanting me, I was just a summer fling to Joe and Gene doesn't want me anymore. I miss him, doesn't he realize that?”

"Honey, I'm right here. I'm Gene."

"Why doesn't he want me anymore," she whimpered sadly.

Gene’s face fell as well. When her hand went limp and she didn’t continue, he knew she passed out. He sat down on the edge of her bed in a bit of sorrow. She really was more hurt than he thought. He couldn’t leave her.

Gene turned off the light and left the door open as he walked to the guest room he had come across earlier. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he picked up the phone and dialed. As he waited, and hoped for the phone to be answered, he started untying his shoes.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Van, thank God you’re home already, man.”

“I just ran in to answer. Everything alright?”

“I’m at Judy’s. She’s pretty bad. I can’t leave her alone tonight in case something happens. Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you call Betsy and tell her that I got drunk and passed out at your place so she doesn’t worry?”

“Uh...sure. But, why don’t you just tell her the truth?”

“Oh, you definitely ain’t a married man,” Gene laughed, “It doesn’t matter what the truth is, buddy, they’ll always jump to the conclusion that you’re fucking someone else.”

Gene bit his cheek and made a face at his own comment, as he did have an affair with Judy, but tonight wasn’t the case.

“Yeah, that does make sense,” Van chuckled, “No problem, buddy.”

“Thanks.”

When they hung up, Gene sighed and fell on his back. Running a hand over his face, he snickered.

What a night.

Rain hitting the window stirred Judy out of her sleep. She was laying face down on top of her bed, her neck length curls in disarray and her mascara smeared under her eyes. She looked up at the clock on her nightstand and moaned. It was nine-thirty. The skies were grey, making her room still cozy and dark, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep but her body thought otherwise. Not to mention she was terribly hungry.

After ten minutes, Judy finally mustered the strength to pull herself out of bed. As she passed the window, she did a double take seeing a car that wasn’t hers in her driveway. Walking to the window to get a better view, she immediately recognized whose car that was.

Gene’s.

Why was he there? Judy thought back, remembering he was at the club and then...suddenly the night came back to her. She didn’t remember coming home, but she remembered him making her get into the back seat of his car. Quite embarrassed, she dropped her face into her hands.

“Oh, no,” she mumbled.

Wait, she thought, as her head popped up, did they sleep together? She couldn’t remember. Quickly looking down at her body, she saw that she was still dressed in her matching camisole set. Then she looked around her floor and there were no signs of any of Gene’s clothes scattered around.

She relaxed when she instinctively knew they hadn't had sex. Good gracious, she would be horrified if she had and couldn't remember. Gene would be more embarrassed than her in that regard.

Judy had just walked out of her bedroom when she heard Gene’s morning cough from down the hall. She followed the shuffling sound until she saw him in the guest room.

Securing his pants, he didn’t notice Judy as she leaned against the door crossing her arms. When he finished and looked up to grab his shirt, he did a double take on Judy. One of the straps on her camisole tank was off her shoulder, one of her thigh high stockings now lay in a pool around her ankle, her hair looked like a bird's nest and the makeup under her eyes made her look like 20’s Gothic actress Theda Bara.

"Gosh, you look so sexy in the morning," he joked. She didn’t look amused and he spoke in an army voice, “Wipe that smile off your face, soldier.”

Judy watched as he continued dressing, working his button up dress shirt.

“Why did you stay here?”

“You asked me to.”

“I did?"

He realized then that she probably didn’t remember much and decided to skip that conversation for now.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Really? You sure look hungover.”

“Well, I don’t feel it. I woke up around 4 and got sick but I took aspirin. I’m just tired, and very hungry.”

“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make us breakfast.”

Judy looked at him skeptically, “Why are you doing this?”

“Judy, just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean I stopped caring,” he said coldly as he did up the last button.

It stunned her.

All she could do was muster up a soft, “Ok” before walking out to take her shower.

A little later, Gene was nearly finished setting the breakfast nook when Judy came in. Her voluminous curls were damp but she managed to put on a fresh, natural look to her makeup, and threw on a casual baby-blue romper dress. It was quite short, something she would most-likely play tennis in, and her feet were bare.

The two didn’t say a word as she sat at the table and he set their pancakes and bacon on it along with his coffee and her tea and of course some OJ. Judy felt a bit awkward at the silence, but Gene seemed just fine as he sat opposite her and read the Saturday morning paper. She distracted herself by listening to a Bing Crosby rerun playing on the portable speaker throughout breakfast. Gene did notice that her usual giggles and laughter during her favorite radio show was absent during it, which was highly unusual.

After her shower, and eating, Judy felt back to normal and more energetic, not just physically but mentally as well. It gave her the courage to break their silence.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Welcome,” she heard him mumble behind the paper.

Judy bit her lower lip a moment before continuing, “What a sad-looking day, huh?”

“I kinda like it. Reminds me of New York. It doesn’t rain here often,” Gene said back, his tone a little more engaged than before.

“Yah,” she agreed, “But it doesn’t make for a good Saturday, does it? Not much to do in the rain.”

“No, but maybe a day inside relaxing is just what you need... especially after last night.”

Judy heard the tone in his voice change to more sly and she cocked her head and spoke confidently, “I had a great time last night.”

Gene peeked at her from the newspaper before he folded it back up, “What do you remember from last night?”

“I remember that you ruined my good time.”

Gene stared at her before speaking matter-of-factly, “I corrected your mistake before it was made.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “Is that what you call it?”

“So,” he said, placing his coffee back on its saucer with a bit of a noise, “You remember all of it.”

“I don’t recall actually coming home, but I remember the club just fine."

"And you had a great time?"

Judy knew what he was getting at, "Yes. I know what you want me to say, darling, but I don’t regret any of it. Not. One. Bit.”

“You’re joking,” he said, astonished.

“No.”

Gene looked at her as if he didn’t hear right, “You...don’t regret anything from last night?”

“Mm, well, I should've probably ate while drinking, but,” she leaned her jaw on her open hand challenging him with a sarcastic voice, “what exactly are you referring to, Gene?”

“Oh, God,” he said leaning back in his chair, “Do I really have to say it?”

“Why would I regret that? It’s what I came to the club for.”

The tone in her voice alerted Gene that she was serious about that quest.

“Why,” he asked, shocked.

“Do *I* really have to say it,” she asked amused now.

Gene crossed his arms and just stared at her as if he was trying to read her. When she giggled, he shook his head.

“You were doing that to get me jealous, weren’t you?”

“What?”

“Admit it.”

“Gene, give me a break. I didn’t even know you were going to be at that joint. I went there with my girlfriend so I could get away from the people I knew so they wouldn’t stop me from having fun. You admit it. You were jealous and that’s why you stopped me.”

"Hey, Sweetheart, I have no problem admitting when I’m jealous, it's perfectly natural, but that’s not why I stopped you. You were drunk and acting foolish.”

“I may have been drinking, but I was not foolish. I knew exactly what I was doing. The alcohol just made me more relaxed.”

“Oh, you were relaxed alright, about as relaxed as his hands were when they were all over your ass.”

Judy didn't hesitate, “Which I enjoyed.”

“Judy…”

“Did I once look like I was uncomfortable or push him away?" When Gene didn't answer she nodded 'yes' proving her point, "Ah huh. I was very much aware that I was leaving with him when you acted like a goddamn caveman.”

Though sloshed last night, Gene could see she was sober as a judge in her acclamation and it frightened him a bit, “Why would you do that? Why would you say yes to a stranger asking you to leave with him?”

“I didn’t. He said yes to me.”

Judy flinched just a tad when Gene suddenly screeched his chair back and grabbed his empty cup of coffee heading to the counter. He was obviously very uncomfortable. Judy didn’t enjoy the conversation either, but everything was the truth.

“Why are you getting so upset,” she asked, standing up and brought her empty plate over to the sink, “I am an adult, you know, I’m a single woman, not to mention a soon-to-be divorced woman. I think I can make my own decisions.”

“Make your own decisions, fine, just think about them beforehand.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. You made a decision, but you didn’t think about the what if’s.”

“Oh, what are you going on about now,” she asked, almost uninterested as she head back to grab his empty plate.

“I get that you’re a single woman, Judy. Go out and have fun, you deserve it, but next time you feel the need to jump in the sac, do it with someone you know, or at least know of. I know plenty of guys in our arena that would be perfectly willing to have an encounter with you. And they would respect you afterwards and be discreet about it. They *know* the business.”

“I wanted to get away from that last night. Why do you think we came there in the first place? I wanted to have fun with someone I didn’t know, who didn’t know me, but wanted me anyways. I did think about it.”

Gene banged her utensil drawer closed so hard, it made her flinch.

“You don’t get it,” his voice raised frustrated, “This was a complete stranger. You didn’t know him. Something bad could have happened.”

“For instance,” she said, placing a hand on her hip in annoyance.

“Many reasons. For one, even though it was consensual, he could have ended up getting forceful or, God forbid, raping you. He could have been a woman beater or left you on the side of the road afterwards.”

Her look made him see that she didn’t believe anything he was saying, that nothing like that would have happened to her. She was gullible. He had to get back on her terms to make her understand.

“Alright. Say he was a decent enough man, what if you got pregnant? You were drunk, you could have gotten careless. Or what if he ended up bragging to everyone that Judy Garland was easy? News like that would spread around this town like wildfire and Louella would have a field day. Stuff like that has happened before. You’re not indestructible or invisible in that regard.”

Judy lowered her eyes as she fiddled with her nail, “I guess I didn’t think about it in that way.”

Gene’s temper simmered down as she got it now and he spoke caringly, “That’s why I stopped you, I was looking out for you.”

“Thank you,” was all that she could muster up as she turned the sink faucet on.

“If I did that because I was jealous, don’t you think I would have taken you to bed myself?”

Disappointment and anger flashed in her eyes, “No, I don’t.”

To hide her explanation of what she had replied back, Judy started working on the dishes, even though Rosie, her housekeeper, was due there in a few hours.

Gene stood there, hand on his hip, as he watched her in silence, “I’ll never stop wanting you, Judy.”

Her hands frozen in the soapy water, she looked at him over her shoulder, “What?”

“It’s true.”

Judy turned the water off and dried her hands on the dish towel before facing him, “Why did you just say that to me?”

“Because of what you said last night.”

She nervously cleared her throat, “What did I say?”

“Right before you fell asleep, I don’t think you knew who you were talking to, but you were wondering why I didn’t want you anymore. I do, I’m just trying to get back to some normalcy in my life. I have to give all my energy to my marriage right now, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you have changed.”

“Haven’t they,” she insisted as if she didn’t believe him.

“For God's sake, falling out of feelings for someone like you doesn't just happen overnight."

“It doesn’t, huh,” she insisted again.

Gene didn’t like her tone of voice and wondered if she had even heard a word he had said. It saddened him that she wasn’t getting through to her. He turned to walk out of the kitchen, and made it to the door when she spoke up.

"Prove it,” her voice sounded persistent but nervous.

"What,” Gene asked, his back still to her as he froze.

"Prove it," Judy repeated. She knew he wouldn’t prove it, now that he had made up his mind on giving all his ‘energy’ to Betsy. Her voice became angry, “Prove it or get the hell out of my house.”

Gene’s exasperation for her, sexually, and in this conversation, was too much to bear. All he could do at that moment was hit his hand on the wall next to the door. Judy waited a long moment for him to either turn around, or walk out, but he didn’t either. He didn’t even speak. Emotionally exhausted, and disheartened, she shook her head and walked his way.

She brushed up against him as she squeezed by to walk out the kitchen door but before she could take even two steps further, Gene’s hand grabbed her wrist holding her back, her arm in a 90 degree angle. Turning her around to face him, he swiftly planted her body up against his and took the two steps himself until her back was to the wall. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

His lips remained dangerously close to hers as he huskily spoke, “I don’t have to prove anything to you. I want you to feel it instead.”

Gene refrained from kissing her as he waited for some response.

“What are you doing,” she breathed excitedly, as he had been so adamant not to be with her like this anymore.

“Forgetting about normalcy just this one last time.”

Judy opened her mouth to speak but his mouth quickly descended onto hers.

Gene focused on the relieved whimper that escaped her mouth as he kissed her. When his tongue swept against hers for the first time in a very long time, she clung onto him desperately, as if she were afraid he would pull back.

He wasn’t going to, not this time. He wanted to remind her what she still did to him, and what he still wanted to do to her no matter how far apart they had been. And, since she had obviously been looking for a good time in the wrong place, he decided to give her body its craving in the right place.

There, pressed against the wall as they shared the most deepest, sexual kiss he could ever remember having, in the back of Gene’s mind, he knew her satisfaction wouldn’t last, that she’d be out looking for another man sooner or later. He needed a promise from her.

Slowly pulling back from their lip lock, her lower lip snapped back from his mouth, and she let out a breath through her nose biting the bottom of that lip that he had just been sucking on. He forgot why she stopped for a moment as she was so turned on that it made his dick harden.

“Judy.”

“Mmm,” was all she could reply as she felt those erotic butterflies in her tummy spread up to her chest, tingling her nipples.

“Next time you go out, you have to be more careful, and selective. Don’t go searching for an every-day stranger,” Gene placed his pointer finger and thumb on her chin gently lifting her face, “Promise me.”

Judy lifted her eyes to his and looked at them back and forth with sincerity, “I promise.”

Without his eyes leaving hers, his hands slid over her bottom and reached down as they slid down back thighs. They both let out an aroused sound as he picked her up, her legs around his waist, and walked them down the hall.

The rain hitting the window? No. The echo of the radio from the kitchen playing? No. Gene’s mouth between her legs? Oh, yes.

That’s all she heard, even ignoring her own whimpers and cries, as he oh so skillfully made her feel so delicious and orgasmic. She was perched on the large, long, rectangle console table against the curved stairwell wall in the foyer. The table was heavy, or else it would have most-likely broken when he sat her on top of it. They weren’t exactly gentle when removing one another’s clothes against it, either. The decorative books that had been on top were now laying in disarray next to a kneeling Gene, but the vase with a bouquet of mixed flowers, surprisingly, hadn’t been affected.

As Judy moved her leg up on his shoulder a bit, she felt her jumper dress slide off her ankle, where it had been dangling for a few minutes now. Gene’s right hand acknowledged her leg, and softly caressed her thigh there, not stopping his licks and sucks.

His knees started to feel the effects of the marble floor just then, but Gene didn’t care. The way her body, and her voice, were responding to him made it so fucking worth it. He had wanted to take her upstairs to her bed, but the passion and sexual frustration that had built up from not being together all this time, took its toll on them and they ended up there in the entry-way.

Gene let go of her thigh and reached down to caress himself with just enough pressure to relieve some tension. However, he didn’t realize how sensitive he had become and he groaned against her. It felt so good that he continued to caress his hard on.

He heard Judy giggle through a gasp as he continued to groan against her through his sucks. It was a different sensation for her that just heightened the experience. But he had to stop his wrist or he knew eventually he’d embarrass both of them. He wanted to get her there. When he adjusted himself for a more comfortable angle, he hit a sensitive spot for her. Gene heard another loud cry from her as her hand immediately squeezed his hair keeping his head in place.

Smiling to himself, he started flicking the area underneath her pearl back and forth that made her thighs quiver.

“That feels so good,” Judy breathlessly whimpered. When he stopped flicking that area, and started sucking on it instead, she gasped, “Oh my gosh.”

The place he focused on was so sensitive that it almost was a painful type of pleasure, but her rising orgasm made it feel unstoppable.

Continuing, he felt her body start to tense up and her cries skipped as she reached up behind her. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the white bars on the stairs. Hearing her squeak and her body still, Gene let his mouth off her and watched as her entrance contracted in a quick rhythm, getting even wetter. He thought he’d come right then and couldn’t wait to feel it himself.

Standing up, he remained in between her legs, as he gave her a peck on the lips. She immediately smiled and opened her eyes. Staring into his sparkling ones, she giggled amused from how amazing that was. He smiled back and gave her another kiss before lifting her off of the table. He didn’t want to fuck her here. But before he could even suggest moving, she immediately lowered onto her knees.

“Baby…” he protested but her mouth was already on him. He realized she was a giver as much as a taker during sex, and it pleased her as much to so, as much as did him, but he was far too ready.

Luckily, she was privy to his thoughts, and familiar with his body. Judy took it slow and didn’t concentrate on the most sensitive areas, unlike what he had just done, but his goal was different. Judy wanted him to come from being inside of her. When she felt his cock twitch, she stood back up. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed one hell of a kiss on him. He held her naked body closer and groaned happily at it.

Gene knew her legs were jelly, and his knees were pretty numb, but he managed to carry them up the stairs. He wanted to fuck her on her bed. Judy deserved that, especially since that other guy would have probably been a two-pump chump in the backseat of his Cadillac with her. Not him, though she didn’t make it any easier as her hips slowly slid up and down his shaft, which was nestled in between their lower belly’s as he walked them into her bedroom.

The rain had stopped, birds were now chirping outside her veranda doors and the sun was beginning to shine, as they made love on top of her luscious bed. The two enjoyed their closeness, as Gene laid fully on top of her, rhythmically moving his hips in and out in a timeless pace as they slowly kissed. But the heat from downstairs was very much present and soon his grinds got quicker, pushing his body against hers harder.

Just as the headboard started making a sound against the wall, so did Judy’s responses as she started moaning again. She was so slick and warm and tight, Gene found it excruciating to hold back. Fortunately, she answered his prayers.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

They were having sex, but she knew the difference from making love and what she had just pleaded. At least she wasn’t naïve about that.

After giving her a kiss as if to say ‘ok’, he removed himself, which felt like a relief and frustration at the same time. Gene kneeled as she got up and turned around on her knees, holding onto the headboard. Both sated with natural lubrication, it was almost too easy as he slid into her center from behind. It always felt better this way, in a more naughty sensation.

The sound of dogs barking outside and the ticking of her clock on her nightstand was muted by the pounding of their skin as he fucked her. It wasn’t even a full minute when he felt his balls start to tighten. Groaning and nearly holding his breath to keep himself from letting go, he started to feel her twitch around him and he wanted to cry out with relief that she was close. He was too focused on the sensations right now to pay attention to her moans. By now he was familiar with what each of her sounds meant, which was a good way for him to know which direction to go, but right now he didn’t have that kind of concentration.

Gene didn’t even hear her whimper that she was coming when all of a sudden his cock was being milked hard and fast by her orgasm and another rush of her arousal soaked him. Without warning, he felt his pre-cum and had just enough time to pull out. Moaning loudly over and over, he stroked himself frantically as his orgasm shot out onto her lower back.

The phone ringing woke both of them up. Judy lifted her head from Gene’s chest startled as he reached over sleepily picking up the receiver. He didn’t answer, obviously, he handed it to Judy. She had to get her bearings a moment, as she hadn’t realized she fell asleep, before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Van.”

“Oh, hi.”

“How you feelin’,” he asked amused.

“I’m fine.”

“Swell. Say, is Gene still there?”

Judy furrowed her brows and looked at Gene, “Uh, no, he’s not,” Gene mouthed ‘what’ and she continued, “Why?”

“Because his wife called me for a second time. First time I was able to tell her he was still sleeping but it’s the afternoon now. I told her he left but thought I’d try to see if he was still over there so I could warn him.”

“Oh, golly. No, he’s not here.”

“Alright. Well, I'm glad you feel ok,” Van laughed, “You should have seen you last night. You were…”

Judy hung up the phone annoyed.

“What,” Gene asked, sitting up curious.

“That was Van. He said Betsy has called him twice looking for you. He uh, he just told her you left. He was calling to see if you were still here.”

“I told him to cover my alibi so I could stay with you. I really should get going before someone sees my car out there,” he said and got out of bed.

She nodded and sat up, the sheets around her as she hugged her knees to her chest.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Oh,” she smiled, “I am now.”

He leaned down, his hands pushing onto the mattress as he came nose to nose with her, “Remember what you promised me.”

“I know,” she said and placed her hand on his cheek as she kissed him, “Thank you.”

“Friends?”

Judy couldn’t hide the quick disappointment in her eyes but she respected him enough to respect his wishes of working on his marriage.

She smiled and nodded, pinching his cheek, “Friends.”

Right before Gene walked out, he looked back at her, “Judy.”

“Mm hm?”

“Maybe I was a little jealous.”

Her smile broke wide and he winked before walking out.

#jugenea #judy garland #gene kelly #jg fans #gk fans

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vs-redemption · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Levi x reader modern AU where they are high schoolers second year and someone and the reader both have a crush on Levi and Levi acts kinda harsh on the reader when she gets hurt but only because he really likes her but his action makes her think he hates her so she gives up on her crush you can pick the ending

From Cindy: Thanks for participating in my 500 follower event anon! I’m so biased for Levi. This request ended up being longer than most (almost 1500 words). I also had fun trying to adapt Levi to a high school setting. I hope everyone likes how this turned out!

High School AU - (Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader)

The end of September was a busy time for the teenagers at your high school. After a few weeks into the school year, students were getting back into their routine and hopefully becoming comfortable with the new teachers and classes in their schedule. While the carefree memories of summer faded away, the excitement for homecoming season began to build. As a member of the student council, you were even more aware of the importance of this event. Things had been a little chaotic for you last year since you were just a freshman, but now you were a second year and planned to use the experience you’d gained to make your class stand out above the rest.

A small group of your classmates were already waiting for you when you arrived at school an hour early on the Monday that marked the first day of Spirit Week. It was hard to keep your motivation when you had to wake up and get to school earlier than normal, but you knew it would be worth it when the upperclassmen arrived to find you’d already started without them.

“Good! Everyone’s here!” The next person to show up was the student council president himself. Your groggy brain kick started when you saw that Levi Ackerman was with him. You hadn’t been sure he’d participate in the week of festivities leading up to the homecoming dance this year. He wasn’t even really a member of the student council, and he never seemed all that interested in getting hyped up on school spirit. Last year, he hadn’t even gone to the homecoming parade or the dance even though he’d assisted with all the preparations. It seemed all his efforts were done merely out of a sense of loyalty to his best friend who was the student council president.

“Levi is looking gorgeous as usual,” you hear one of the girls in your group lean in and whisper to another classmate standing next to her.

“I guess,” The classmate shrugs, “if you’re into the whole ‘small, dark and mysterious’ thing.” The first girl slaps her on the arm playfully even though it wasn’t an uncommon opinion of Levi. He mostly kept to himself and didn’t seem to have a whole lot of friends.

“He’s not that short!” she defends Levi. “Anyway, it’s his eyes that get me. They’re so intense. It gives me the shivers!”

“Thanks for oversharing,” the classmate lets out a laugh. “If you’re really that into him though, why don’t you ask him to homecoming?”

“Oh! Good idea!” The first girl claps her hands together. “Maybe I will!”

You try to tune out their conversation after that and listen to the student council president explain the tasks that needed to be done before the bell rang for the first class. In a way, it was nice to know someone else had seen through Levi’s tough exterior, but at the same time you’d also been crushing on him for longer than you cared to admit and the thought of having competition for someone who already felt unobtainable was disheartening.

“Be careful on that ladder!” Somehow, you’d ended up having to hang up a banner above the entrance to the cafeteria with both Levi and the girl you’d heard talking about him outside. It was difficult to enjoy the chance to be around Levi with her obvious flirting and him bossing you around.

“How does this look, Levi?” the girl asks from the side of the door opposite from you where she was holding the other end of the banner. “It is even?” Levi’s sharp eyes flick away from where you’re perched for just a moment as he replies.

“It’s fine,” he tells her flatly and then turns his focus back on you. “Hurry up and tie up your end and get down before you end up falling and breaking your neck.”

You do what he says even though you were starting to get your feelings hurt. It didn’t make sense for him to only nag you about safety when the other girl was doing the exact same thing you were. Did something about you come off as especially clumsy?

“Hey, Levi!” the other girl climbs down from her ladder and skips over to him. “I was wondering if you had a date to homecoming yet?” The boldness of her question throws you off, causing you to miss the last step of the ladder and slide the rest of the way down awkwardly. Thankfully, it hadn’t been that far of a fall so it was more of just a startle than anything.

“Idiot!” Levi was suddenly in front of you, looking intimidating and angry. “I told you to be careful!” He reaches down and snatches up your wrist to look at your hand. You’re surprised to see a small cut on one of your fingers. It must’ve been caused by a sharp piece of the ladder when you slipped. But it was hardly even bleeding, so you had to assume Levi’s extreme reaction was born from his apparent dislike for you. You weren’t sure what you’d ever done to him, but it seemed clear that he would never like you the way you liked him. As you made your way to the bathroom to take care of your finger, you vowed to get over your feelings for him since they were obviously one sided.

The satisfaction of seeing the upperclassmen react to the decorations your class had put up around the school lifted your spirits a bit during the day, but you were still feeling a little mopey when the final bell chimed to dismiss you from your last class. You make your way through the crowded hallway and get a bit of a shock when you find Levi waiting for you by your locker. You hoped he wasn’t there to yell at you for anything else

“How’s your finger?” the question comes out sounding impatient.

“It’s fine,” you reply a little awkwardly. “It was just a scratch.”

“That’s good,” Levi sounded just as uncomfortable as you felt, and you wondered why he’d be bothered to ask over such a small thing anyway. Maybe he thought you were so accident prone that you’d found a way to injure yourself even more over the course of the day.

“Okay,” the weird silence made you want to run away. “I’d better get going now.” You get the stuff you need from your locker and turn to make your escape.

“Wait,” Levi calls you back, but after a few moments of more quiet you lose your patience.

“What is your deal?” you throw up your hands in exasperation. “I’m sorry if hurting myself annoyed you or something, but it was an accident.” Levi raises his eyebrows, realizing he was being misunderstood.

“I wasn’t annoyed,” he explains before averting his eyes. “I was just worried that it might be worse than it looked.”

“What?” Your confusion draws his fierce gaze back to your face.

“I’d rather not see you get hurt at all,” he continues. “That’s why I wanted you to be careful.”

“Oh.” He was still dancing around his true meaning, but you were starting to think you understood.

“So, what did you tell that girl,” You hoped it wasn’t too random to change the subject, “that asked you to the dance?”

“I told her no,” Levi says it as if that should be obvious.

“Okay,” you still weren’t sure about asking him to go with you. He was a tough guy to read, and you didn’t want to scare him away. It was possible that he’d rejected that girl simply because he didn’t want to go to the dance. “Are you going to stay after and help the student council make the float for the homecoming parade today?”

“Are you going to be there?” he asks and you nod your head. “Then yes.” You’re thrown off by the possibility of him attending just to spend time with you, and it seemed he caught even himself off guard with what he’d said because suddenly there’s a slight flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.

“Do you want to walk together?” you say and he quickly accepts the offer. You smile and relax a bit knowing that your first assumption that he hated you was wrong. Maybe Levi was a little awkward about expressing his emotions, but you could deal with that as long as you still got the chance to spend more time with him and see where this new friendship might lead.

#Levi Ackerman x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #Levi Ackerman #High School au #Cindy's 500 follower event #Cindy's Writing

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izukyu · 4 years

Text

𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐬 - keigo takami x reader

this is a birthday gift for my crackhead wine aunt, @waddle-yee. katie i love u so much it’s unreal! i hope you enjoy the crumbs m’lady!

reblogs are appreciated bc i worked really hard on this, heart eyes.

pairing - keigo takami (hawks) x reader.

word count - 2.3k.

warnings - very vague manga spoilers for pro hero arc, possibly ooc hawks, swearing, and just. a lot of fluff.

summary - hawks needed to gain the public’s hearts once again, and attending a charity event seemed like the way to go, but falling for the cute artist in charge of him wasn’t something he planned on.

★ - requests are open

“your ratings are falling, hawks”

being bothered during his lunch break wasn’t something keigo was particularly fond of. the one time of the day he could let loose in his office, ruined.

“is that so?” he could only hope his agent would understand his words in the midst of his chewing, making a point he was only half-interested in the newsletter.

“the hero public safety commission reached out, you need to get your approval up again before they intervene.”

keigo gulped.

what a mouthful. they were never good news - the last time keigo met with them he was deployed as a spy, for crying out loud. needless to say, he was still their subordinate, and rejecting their demands was nothing more than a heavenly reverie.

“so, got any ideas?” keigo put down his plastic plate, lamenting the unfinished state of lunch.

“well, there’s this charity event coming up, and they’re calling for - ”

“i’m in! send me the time and place and i’ll be there,” sadly. it’s not like he had any personal vendettas with charity events or the public per se, but the simple fact he had to be shoved into one to please his superiors was enough to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

next time he’d attend to one of his own accords.

“i’ll send it to you by email.”

keigo gave the poor intern a frown, his eyebrows drawn. “just send me a text, sheesh.”

maybe if he had paid more attention to the text then maybe he wouldn’t be stuck in this quandary of graphite and stillness

“you do this to every guy you meet?”

you scoffed, eyes never once leaving the canvas before you. “yes, every model i work with is required to stand still, if that’s what you were wondering.”

keigo was glad he put on a smile from the start, or else you would’ve chewed him out for moving too much.

the event was still a couple weeks away, but portraits don’t grow on trees. in all fairness, keigo was a killer model - every magazine featuring him sells out within the hour, and the photographers he’s worked with never fail to shower him in compliments and praise.

his charm didn’t seem to carry on to drawings, apparently. as you’d put it before, he was but ‘an over-energetic city pigeon that would chase around little kids for fun at every given opportunity’.

oddly specific, but it got a chuckle out of him.

“i’m almost done, so just stand still for a little longer.”

“won’t be a problem, dove, i’m already a pro,” keigo had to suppress another snicker as you hid behind the canvas, your face growing warm at the dumb pet name. another tally for hawks in his imaginary scoreboard. although standing still for longer than ten minutes wasn’t something he could see himself doing ever again, teasing you would definitely be a must in the near future.

anything for your flushed, annoyed expression.

“your wing did the thing again.”

of course it did. keigo wailed silently, dreading the sound of your pencil meeting the cotton before you, scratching and imposing.

the passing of time seemed like a foreign concept the longer he posed in front of you, amber eyes preying on you. every movement, every speck of graphite staining your hands, forever engraved in his mind. you didn’t question his sudden quietness, too engrossed in finishing the first of many portraits you’d have to make for the event.

would every other hero be as jittery and energetic as the man standing before you?

would every other hero grow uneasy at the idea of standing still for no longer than fifty minutes?

“alright, you’re good to go.”

startled, keigo nearly fell off the small stool. “oh, was that all?”

you felt your eye twitch, choosing to ignore his wit, “it’s weird to think your portrait will probably go beyond five digits, someone’s gonna willingly pay to have those bushy eyebrows in their living room.”

keigo choked on his spit, coughs laced with laughter overruling the silence of the studio. “where did that come from?”

with a shrug and a triumphant smirk, you start to usher him out of your studio, “it had to be said, but you’re still cute, so i wouldn’t count it as a loss!” there were projects that needed your undivided attention and care, some with scary deadlines, and a birdman wasn’t exactly someone you needed to prioritize now. “see you at the event, yeah?”

“wait, hey, i wanna see what it looks like - ”

“no can do, have a great afternoon!”

before he could protest, he was already out and gone from your studio, the door nearly slamming on his wings. without much thinking, he turned around, his knuckles grazing against the door repeatedly. “c’mon, not even a sneak peak? i promise i won’t tell!”

someone clearing their throat behind him tore keigo away from the piece of wood in a heartbeat.

“endeavor-san, nice meeting you here! y’see, i left something inside, and i was just knocking so - “

“i don’t want to know.”

what was it with today and everyone interrupting him?

keigo snapped his fingers, “copy that.” from the corner of his eyes he spotted a neat pile of presentation cards, almost begging to be noticed and put to use.

fine, if you didn’t feel like letting him into your heart he’d just have to irk you over text.

knowing better than to bother endeavor again, keigo simply stepped out of the room, his fingers eagerly keying in the digits into his cellphone.

spoiler alert, it wasn’t you who texted him back, but your assistant was a delight, and set him up for another session after the event.

keigo has a strong, abhorrent opinion on wearing suits. they’re stuffy, constricting, and make his wings itch more than normal. despite having a custom-made, tailored suit, the sentiment of being under lock and key only ever went away as soon as he lost the jacket and shirt. something he couldn’t quite do in an event like this.

“what do you mean they’re running late?”

your second in command sighed, eyes still glued on their phone. from the brief texts they had shared, keigo would be proud to admit they’d found a friend in your friend, if that made any sense. “there were some supplies left in the studio, had to run back to get ‘em.”

keigo sighed. just what he needed in this trying time.

“but the portraits are already up if you want to check them out.”

oh.

among the sea of bidders inspecting the canvases on display, keigo’s feeble attempts to get a closer look were fruitless. his wings usually gave leverage when his height failed to do so, but flapping in such a close environment would bring more trouble than it’s worth.

with a defeated sigh (admitting to lacking in height was… disheartening) two of his feathers flew down to his feet, giving him the small boost he needed.

he most certainly didn’t expect to come face-to-face with himself.

minutes passed, and keigo remained under a trance. it was simplistic, the graphite morphing to cast an umbra on portrait-hawks. he could picture almost perfectly the light and shadow dancing together in both the canvas up for bidding and your skilled hands, the same ones that had left a nasty smudge on the back of his coat.

lo and behold, you were right, his unruly eyebrows were rather prominent.

“sorry for the delay, the traffic was horrible and the cab - don’t get me started on the cab,” you ranted as you walked through the busy hall, chanting apologies left and right. “the auction hasn’t started yet, right?”

“no, but there’s someone waiting for you.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. the people attending were either eager to see their favorite heroes in ritzy clothing or aching to take one of them home - in a canvas, of course. “don’t get me wrong, i love getting the work going, but i swear these deadlines are gonna be the death of me.”

“no need to fret,” keigo stepped down from his feathers, and you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. happy? tired? finally becoming the paragon of tenderhearted? “i’m part of your schedule already, booked a sesh and all.”

“... you mean the one I just cancelled?”

his wings drooped almost comically, “the one you just what?”

teasingly, you pushed him back, consequently making him bump into someone else. “i’m just messing around, i’m actually looking forward to it.” you could only watch as he gave the person a brief apology, posing for a selfie milliseconds after. heroes.

“is that so? i thought i was a bad subject,” keigo tugged at his collar, making a mental note to burn the shit out of the suit once home.

“the worst, actually,” more people began migrating to the opposite side of the room before the auction started. “but you’re fun to be around, so i’ll manage.”

keigo couldn’t contain his smile this time. it wasn’t his signature snigger you’d have flooding your timeline after his photo sessions, rather just a simple, genuine tug of his lips.

“and maybe you’re kinda pretty, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

and just like that, the warm smile contorted into a smug smirk. “you got me there, dove! wasn’t expecting that to come out of your pretty mouth.”

you huffed, diving to give his cheek a good pinch before dragging him to follow the rest of the guests. “that’s one creepy way to phrase it. now take a seat, i’ve got to hand out a couple of endeavors and edgeshots.”

keigo, still savoring the compliment like a kid would with a sweet, took an extra second to process those words. “they got more than one?”

cut to his second private session. five minutes after your scheduled lunch break, some leftover fries and ice cream exiled to your desk.

“alright, something’s on your mind.”

keigo remained stationary. this time it was just a mere pencil in your hand, waltzing on the canvas without a worry on its nonexistent mind. calculated. precise. free. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you sighed, tucking the pencil behind your ear, sparing the finished sketch a last glance before walking to the brooding bird before you. “your wings, they’re not doing the thing.”

“and what about it?”

“well, for one, it was much easier to jot them down, i can assure you they’ll look great once i paint them,” keigo shuddered as you stood closer, how did you even get a lead stain on your cheek? “but i think i know you well enough to deduce something’s up. you’re not even being a cocky cockatiel.”

keigo let out a long, long sigh. “i’m not a cockatiel.”

“and you’re not being yourself. c’mon, why’d you even come here if you’re just gonna be grumpy?”

a brief flash of cold, burning blue clouded his mind. “work’s getting to me, i guess.”

you weren’t a pro hero of any sorts, the only context you had regarding that chaotic world would come from whatever hashtag was trending, and the occasional hero dropping by your studio to talk business. nevertheless, you knew how to spot and comfort a gloomy friend.

“you wanna paint yourself?”

“what?”

that seemed to get his attention, and it brought a smile to your face. you bit your lip eagerly, “i need to go get some paints, but you look like you need some cheering up, so you’re not leaving this room without painting your own portrait”

keigo’s lip trembled involuntarily, your words tugging at his already-soft heart. “i’ve never - i’ve never touched a paintbrush in my life.”

“woah, not even at school?”

“homeschooled.”

your hand moved on its own, ruffling his naturally messy hair. “i’ll get you acrylic paint.”

he could only tap his foot anxiously in your absence, running a hand across his face. the commission, as per usual, found great joy to bother him through day and night, almost as if his suffering tickled their ribs. keigo wouldn’t mind playing the part of the asshole kid who took tickling way too far when it came to them, hero regulations and spy work be damned.

not to mention the dust-up he had with a certain cremated acquaintance a couple days back, leaving him featherless and vulnerable for a whole day.

but as you approached him once again, a number of paints cradled in your arms and pockets, keigo could feel the weight in his shoulders slowly mitigating.

“okay, what do you think feels like the way to go?”

thankfully, his wings could twitch to their content while wearing your apron. he would’ve been just fine painting without any safety measures, but your flabbergasted expression urged him to realize clothes are expensive.

keigo gripped the paintbrush with one hand, the other holding a red paint tube, “this can’t be rocket science, i got this.”

your boisterous laughter as he squeezed some paint straight into the paintbrush told him that maybe it was rocket science after all.

“it’s not a toothbrush, keigo!” god, he loved his name rolling off your tongue.

“oh my god, next time try cleaning the paintbrush before you start to paint with another color.” he was certain your giggles could keep him going through endless crimes and stacks of paperwork.

“hey, that’s cute, you’re using different colors for your suit.”

keigo chuckled, “can’t have the piss color scheme spicing up my living room.”

that was the final straw, and you both rightfully lost it. leaning into each other to prevent falling to the floor as a result of raw elation. even your snorts were adorable, your babbling a melody to his ears, and shrieks of amusement making his heart thump faster.

at the end of the day, keigo left the studio with a gorgeous painting, as you’d generously put it. the first time he’d truly felt unbound to everything to be forever remembered with a mess of colors and sloppy strokes hanging proudly atop his bed.

the first time keigo ever felt truly free on canvas.

★ - check out the rest of my works!

★ - wanna get tagged in my stuff?

general: @brattyquirks @quirkless-fics @tooloudarts @bringingpinkbac-k @thewaterlily @kittyatemytaco @nyantodamax145 @iachan03 @imconfusedanditsok @nishigo @torrpe @bakugo-baby @lovingshoto @yuueimagines @shigarakis-fifth-hand @uwus-for-bnha

hawks: @witchy-anna

#bnha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #keigo #takami #mha x reader

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angel-of-darkness-3000 · 4 years

Text

Periods Suck

Ah, the lovely time of month that nearly every human with a uterus faces in which it pukes out blood. With the dispelling of blood also comes a hurdle of other problems, such as pain, cravings of chocolate, adn an upwards influx of weight. As a larger girl that has worked to try to keep excess weight off, that scale number during that time of month can be disheartening to Y/n.

She had been living with the X-men for a while now, ever since her parents abandoned her at the age of eleven when her photon manipulation powers came to light, quite literally. In that time, she had met Deadpool, and despite the bad rep he had, he was a good friend. Cable had also been a good friend after he started hanging out with them at the mansion. But while these friendships were wonderful, Y/n had another relationship that she valued. She was dating Piotr Rasputin, also known as Colossus. His rigid muscles contrasted Y/n's plush in the most beautiful of ways, or at least Deadpool thought so. He always talked about how hard he shipped them.

It was shark week, and Y/n had started the night previous, so she knew she was in for a rough day. The first two or so days were always the worst with heavy flow and cramps. Shuffling to the bathroom was a feat within itself, and she was grateful that she was not required to go anywhere today. With a pair of sweats, a tank top, and a sports bra, Y/n made her way down to the kitchen to try to find herself some breakfast.

She found Deadpool in the kitchen making pancakes, Cable was already finished with his plate and was finishing with his coffee, and Piotr was still eating his. Wade squinted his eyes at Y/n before nodding at her.

"Niagara Falls of blood? Satan's waterfall? Shark week?"

At her confused nod he turned back to the stove to set up another pancake. "Extra chocolate then."

Piotr raised an eyebrow. "What is going on?"

"Was I not descriptive enough?" Wade asked, he thought he was clear.

"American expressions don't always translate." Y/n sat down next to Piotr, resting her head on his shoulder, still tired. "I'm on my period. My uterus is mad at me for not making a baby, so it spits out blood."

"Oh. Is there anything I can do to help? Is there also pain with menstruation?" Piotr asked, wrapping an arm around Y/n's shoulders.

"I'll let you know if there is anything."

Wade squealed as he placed a plate of pancakes in front of Y/n. "You guys are so cute!"

Piotr rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss to Y/n's temple.

---

Y/n was exiting the bathroom for what felt like the millionth time that day, but as she opened the door, her side profile in the mirror caught her eye. She moved back to look at herself in the mirror fully. Tears pricked her eyes. She didn't feel like her usual self and she hated it. She felt too big, ugly, and her curves were all wrong. She stood in self loathing, squishing herself into imagined figures.

"Y/n?" Piotr stood outside the bathroom, watching Y/n try to mold her body for only a moment before calling out to her.

"Hmm?" She turned to Piotr, a light blush on her cheeks at being caught.

"Are you alright?"

Y/n dropped her hands from her stomach. "I don't know."

She couldn't lie to Piotr, she learned that early on. Their relationship was oddly open. One point of that was her inability to tell lies, and another due to the need to be blunt with Piotr most of the time. They both also held an amount of trust with each other.

Piotr came further into the bathroom, drawing Y/n into his arms and resting his cheek on the top of his head.

"Is this part of menstruation?"

"For me, sometimes. The little bit of weight gain and the little bit of puffiness kinda gets to me."

Piotr placed a kiss on the top of Y/n's head. "You could be as swollen as the blueberry girl in the chocolate factory movie you made me watch, and I would still think you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I love you."

Y/n sighed, leaning further into Piotr. "Can we cuddle?"

"Of course, moya lyubov (my love)."

#Piotr Rasputin x chubby reader #Chubby reader #Plus Size Reader #Colossus x chubby reader

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bbhyeoliskooks · 4 years

Text

˳⁺⁎✧₊ஐ˚ 𝐀 𝐂𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ˚ஐ₊✧⁎⁺˳

When your enemy Beomgyu sees you storm out of a Christmas party, he decides to bring you a nice cup of hot chocolate.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻

Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader (female)

Genre: Like a ton of fluff and 3 teaspoons of angst !

Warnings: Um, a bit of tension (yk that type)

Song: Santa Tell Me

(Sorry for not uploading in so long! I didn’t edit this either since I’ve been busy with school, lessons, and my drawing account on insta. Also, can it please be winter? I’ve been waiting for the cozy spirit :(( -)

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻

Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you stay at home with your soft teddy bears, cuddled under the cozy blanket that you set up just for the Christmas season? Why did peer pressure have to sock you in your stomach just for you to agree?

You instantly rolled your eyes, glancing hesitantly around at the clingy couples who were making out next to the punch table where you actually wanted to go to fetch some food. Damn, couldn’t you just grab a drink and leave? As well as some chicken wings, but that wasn’t the point.

More than anything you desired at the moment, you wanted to leave this party. The white fairy lights were a bit tacky for your liking, the tinsel was a disgusting shade of mustard green, and the fake Christmas tree was too luminous that it probably out-sparkled the Miss Santa Claus out of her misery. Hell, it sounded so petty but all the more reason to complain!

One of your friends had convinced you to come with her because she stated that she was going to be alone, but here she was singing at the stage of the party while flirting with one of the seemingly cutest boys in campus, Choi Beomgyu.

They were both singing in complete harmony, and it would’ve sounded beautiful to you if you didn’t desperately wanted to leave.

Of course, you needed to stay there for her. She had been there for you through the rough times, picking you up when you needed someone. You were supposed to be concentrating on her, right? For feedback? It’s not as if you were only gazing at how absolutely charming her stage partner looked under that soft, golden spotlight.

He noticed that you were staring at him, and discreetly winked before looking into her smitten eyes again.

Wait... what was that? You’re blushing...?

You immediately slapped yourself on the forehead for becoming wrapped up in those breathtaking, chocolate eyes.

What’s wrong with you?! For crying out loud, your best friend likes him! Every girl did, but you couldn’t especially because you couldn’t betray her like that. You can’t just have a thing for someone like Beomgyu when he’s a player, someone your mother warned you about years and years before!

You decided to head over to the open corner of the place where no one could bother you when you were stopped by someone who had laid their hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you felt your heart pick up when you realized that it was your old crush from the broken down library next door.

He had always been there to talk to you whenever you were bored, and through that way, you had found out that you had a lot of the same interests. Although you wanted to get closer, he had to move away to a different neighborhood and couldn’t go to the library anymore since it was too far away. You were disheartened by it since you liked him a lot; he was so perfect... for someone like you.

“Y/N? That’s you, right? I haven’t seen you in a long time, and you look extremely gorgeous!” He pulled you into a warm embrace, and you nuzzled your cheeks against his chest, taking notice of how tall he had become over a hot summer.

His features had become more defined in a year and being a young adult now, you could feel how muscular he had become. Gone was the Soobin with the high pitched voice, and here was the tall Soobin with a soft aura that had girls all over the campus begging on their knees to have a chance with him.

The question is, did you still like him? You didn’t know how to feel since you kinda- only kinda had a thing for Beomgyu, but he was most likely occupied with a lot of girls hanging off his legs. Perhaps you needed to move on fast, though you couldn’t do it by using Soobin just to feel butterflies like you did before.

Although... you should have some fun, huh?

“Soobders, I haven’t seen you in a long year! I didn’t realize you had classes here.” You kept the both of your hands intertwined together, not noticing that Beomgyu who had stopped singing Christmas carols was burning holes into Soobin’s back.

Soobin shyly scratched the back of his neck, his eye smile peeking out with his adorable, little grin when you returned the gesture. “I missed you a lot too, if you were wondering. I was surprised when I saw you making your way in my direction. Your hair has grown a lot since the last time I saw you, and as I said before, you’re absolutely stunning.”

Just like that, the fluttering sensation in your stomach had swiftly come back, and you wanted to throw up from how violently they were shaking. He knew your heart was going to pound, yet he still did it. Wow, how you were still whipped for Choi Soobin.

You giggled softly, quickly shaking your head at his audacity. “You must be kidding. I would’ve put more effort to look the word stunning. But thank you! I appreciate the effort of trying to make me feel better.”

The boy chuckled quietly, steadily bringing you closer to him if that was possible. You made a realization that he was flirting with you and stood paralyzed in your spot, becoming shy at how bold he was now.

“What are you talking about? You’re always stunning, both inside and out.”

He started to lean in and you closed your eyes, feeling his sweet breath tickle the edge of your lips. He was going to kiss you, but you weren’t complaining as you wanted to move on for a long time already.

This must’ve been a sign that he was the one because you were almost there, almost there to his cherry blossom tinted lips when-

“Um, excuse me? May I have your attention?” You heard your best friend’s voice ring throughout your ears and you reluctantly pulled away from Soobin’s grasp.

The both of you looked onto the stage, your eyes darting to a moody Beomgyu who was sitting on the stacked milk carts with a deep frown engraved on his face. It was strange as to why he wasn’t enjoying himself, and you wanted to ask him but the only thing that was stopping you from going there was Soobin.

Your best friend laughed into the microphone and you grinned, loving how happy she looked. The only thing that caught your eye though, was that she pulled up Beomgyu with her before swaying her hips in rhythm with the music. You couldn’t recall if it was a Christmas song since you were too distracted in the way their faces were too close.

Beomgyu was smirking and he spoke into the microphone, the usual tone of his being smug.

“You’re being naughty, tsk tsk. Should I punish you?”

The girls in the crowd whined, while you raised an eyebrow, letting out a moan at how ridiculous he was sounding. And he really thought that he sounded irresistible when he said that? You could only laugh even though in the back of your mind was screaming for more.

Her mouth widened and she snickered, her arms wrapping around his neck in pleasant surprise.

“Oh, um okay? That’s a bit bold coming from you, sir~”

Ew...? You wanted to gag from how disgustingly “sweet” they were with each other. At this point, why don’t they just make out alone if they’re going to be like this?

Attention snapping back to them, you could see that they were going to kiss if you didn’t look away from the sight. You weren’t jealous or anything like that, it’s definitely because you didn’t want to see them suck each others’ lips out, right?

Tapping Soobin’s shoulder, you felt the need to get out of there. “I’m going to step out, okay? I feel nauseous. Don’t come after me.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything in protest as you sprinted through the crowd, easily forgetting your jacket that hung on the hanger next to the stage.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻

Obviously it was freezing outside, and you internally cursed at yourself for not wearing more layers. You made a mental note to wear something warmer if you ever went to a party like this again.

Sitting down on the edge of the bench, you thought deeply of how happy the two of them were together when they were about to kiss.

You felt bummed out that you didn’t have a chance with Beomgyu because you really liked him. Sure, he was a player and wasn’t really the best whenever you asked something, but he always compensated it by being supportive and always protective of you when you felt uncomfortable. He was special, someone that couldn’t be a player no matter how much you wrapped your head around it.

“Y/N? You look stupid sitting like an idiot there. I guess I just have to sit with you to make you feel better.”

He plopped right down beside you and you nodded, instead feeling utter disappointment at yourself in the way that you handled things with Soobin. He was being kind to you, and all you wanted to do was use him when you weren’t feeling well about the possibility of a relationship.

It was a few moments when Beomgyu spoke up again.

"Hey, but on a serious note, are you feeling well? Soobin asked me if I saw you since he said that you were feeling nauseous.”

You scoffed breathlessly, turning away from his reassuring smirk that spread across his cherry colored lips. “Will you stop acting like you care, Gyu? I know you hate me, but you don’t need to rub it in like...” You looked back at him, glancing at his innocent, honeyed eyes that seemed genuinely worried. It was probably a fragment of your imagination, and you groaned inaudibly before slumping back into your seat. “-that.”

He inched closer to you, his mouth already formed into a straight line at your accusation. It was actually the complete opposite, but he guessed you didn’t want to admit it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that you were rubbing your arms with your icy hands, uselessly trying to warm up your frigid body. He chuckled and shook his head, softly smiling at how adorable you were in your get-up.

He hadn’t seen you like this before, but he loved the way you looked in that dress. It seem perfectly made for you, yet there was something else that had caught his attention when he first walked in. Your beauty had outshone even the most popular girl there, and he swore his heart beat faster than any other embarrassing moment he experienced at campus.

The only thing he was not a fan about was how almost every boy stared down whenever you walked on by, swaying your hips. Did you even know how much seductiveness you were oozing? He was tired of the gazes they sent your way, becoming all the more protective when he saw Soobin hug you.

“You’re cold, huh? Don’t try to hide it; I already know.”

He shook off his beige coat, generously covering your bare shoulders with the overwhelming warmth of his body. His cozy cologne had wafted its way to your nose, and you sunk back into his chest, not having a care in the world to give a crap.

The boy softly chuckled and immediately tangled his fingers through your hair, gently running them through your locks. “I brought you a cup of hot chocolate from earlier, but I guess it’s too cold now.”

Both Soobin and your best friend must’ve been worried, but you knew that he would tell them that you were doing fine once this party is over.

You closed your eyes, and with that traveled to the most sweetest at dreams, the last thought of yours being Beomgyu as he held you near his tranquil heart beat.

Realizing that you weren’t going to get up for a while, he bent down and tenderly kissed the top of your forehead, adoring the way you fell asleep in his arms. He wondered if he was going to tell you about his feelings later when he dropped you home, but it didn’t matter now when he looked at your fluttering eyelashes.

Everything was going to be okay, as long as you were warm as a cup of hot chocolate under his embrace that would protect you forever.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻

Posted: 8/24/20- 12:10pm

(Uploading this from school O.0)

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lazyangeltreemoney · 4 years

Text

The Sweetest Baker in Brooklyn 2/???

Description: Bucky Barnes is one of the most feared mobsters in all of NYC, however he finds himself falling for the sweetest Baker in Brooklyn who has her own secrets and troubled past.

Word Count: 2226

Pairing(s): Mob! Bucky x Parent!Reader

Warnings: violence, organised crime, alcoholism, abuse, angst and fluff

A/N: so this is the second instalment and warning there’s some tooth rotting fluff hope y’all enjoy

The next day Bucky couldn’t help himself go to the Y/N’s cafe. He’d been debating with himself all morning if it was a good idea but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to see her smile again, he wanted to hear her humm along to the songs on the radio. So he found himself on his own walking into the cafe surprised to see Benny sitting on one of the tables colouring while Y/N wiped some tables, humming and dancing along to the song of the radio.

“Mommy the nice man is back.” Benny exclaimed

Y/N turned around and smiled at Bucky, she wanted to scold herself for how happy seeing him made her.

“I take it you’re here to take up my offer.” Y/N smiled at him.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Doll.” Bucky smiled back and took a seat down next to Benny.

He noticed how Benny colouring reminded him even more of Steve. Sure it was mostly random squiggles but it was oddly pleasing to look at.

“So, what are you doing here ya little tike?” Bucky asked

“I’ve been suspended.” Benny answered sadly.

Y/N appeared with Bucky’s coffee and a juice box for Benny. Y/N instantly seemed disheartened at the look on Benny’s face.

“Benny sweetheart, why don’t you go and grab a blueberry muffin for Bucky here to say thankyou for yesterday.” Y/N spoke softly to him.

Benny eagerly jumped up and ran over to the counter.

“I take it something pretty bad happened yesterday?” Bucky asked.

“Some kid was picking on Benny’s friend and he tried to stand up for them, he doesn’t realise how small he actually is most of the time,” Y/N sighed sitting down next to Bucky, “It’s not the first time this has happened. It’s not his fault that the school doesn’t want to get involved until it feels like it.” She grimace hanging her head.

Bucky sympathised with her and was wondering about asking Steve to take a DNA test. Steve, similar to Benny, was never able to run away from a fight. He could sympathise with Y/N, being a mother was never an easy task. Bucky pulled out a business card from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table to Y/N. Y/N took it cautiously and read the inscription.

“James Buchanan Barnes.” She noticed how there was no job description, only a telephone no.

“Bucky comes from my middle name, only my friends get to call me it.” Bucky explained trimputhanlty.

Y/N looked like she was about to argue with him on it.

“I have some connections, next time something like this happens, give me a call.” He insisted.

Y/N simply nodded and put the card in her apron pocket. Just as she did Benny arrived with Bucky’s muffin. The three of them sat together happily, Benny drawing and Bucky tucking into his muffin. Y/N went about the cafe either cleaning or going into the kitchen in the back to check on her muffins. It was a slow day at the cafe which Y/N was mostly grateful for. She knew it was wrong but she enjoyed having Bucky and Benny all to herself. Whenever she went into the kitchen she would pop her head out to check on Benny to see him chatting Bucky’s ear off and Bucky simply smiling back at him. For a second Y/N could imagine her life like this, her life if she had met Bucky earlier in life, before her father and before Brock… but timing was a bitch. On top of that Y/N wasn’t stupid, she had grown up around men like Brock all her life, it didn’t take much to match up the dots and figure that Bucky and Brock were probably in the same line of work. Most people these days seem to have some attachment to the mob around here. With that life came danger, danger she swore she would keep Benny away from.

The day went on and before she knew it it was time to close up the shop. Bucky had stayed in the cafe all day talking to Benny and admiring Y/N. The sun was setting and it’s warm colours perfectly filled the room. The orange hues and comfy pillow made the small cafe feel more like home to Bucky than any of the grand houses he’d ever had.

Y/N was finishing sweeping the floors when ‘Oh La La’ came onto the radio, she turned it up a little louder as she sung along to the lyrics. Benny began to dance around and quickly jumped up onto the seat. Y/N turned around and picked up her son and started dancing around the room with him. Swinging him around in her arms as he giggled along. When she finally put him down he tried to copy Y/N’s feet as she held his hands. Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at the pair. Benny looked up at him and before he knew it he had dragged him to join them. Y/N held Benny on one of her hips and held Bucky’s hand with her free hand. The trio were all so lost in the moment, Bucky hadn’t felt this kind of happiness and love in so long. Y/N hadn’t felt this calm and loved in so long. They all danced along until the song ended and they were all panting and applauding each other jokily. Benny jumped down from Y/N’s side and went back to his colouring. Leaving just Y/N and Bucky staring at each other, smiling from ear to ear like a pair of love sick fools.

The next song came on, it was a much slower one, it was ‘long, long, long’ by the Beatles. Bucky couldn’t help himself but held out his hand and Y/N couldn’t help but take it. Bucky pulled her in close and swayed her around slowly along the room. A soft smile on both of their faces, to both of them it felt like home. Y/N swore in all of her life she had never felt so safe in someone's arms. Sadly the song seemed to finish too soon and though neither wanted to, they parted.

Benny applauded the pairs dance and Bucky pretended to bow while Y/N curtsied. Y/N went to go and tidy away Benny’s crayons. As she did Bucky noticed her wrist as her sleeve pulled up a little. It was redder than usual, Bucky looked closer and saw how it looked like it marked out a hand. Bucky’s boil instantly began to boil, if someone had laid a finger on Y/N they were going to have hell to pay but he couldn’t jump to conclusions.

When Y/N finally cleaned up and they all left the cafe Bucky instantly grabbed out his phone to call Steve.

“Ah finally, I thought the next time I’d hear from you would be in your will.” Steve joked down the phone.

“Look I know I’ve been kinda off the grid but I need a favor, I need you to look into this lady, she works at Y/N’s Cafe, well I need to look into her husband.” Bucky sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Got a last name?” Steve asked.

Like a ton of bricks it dawned on him he had never asked Y/N her last name.

“Never caught it.” Bucky admitted hanging his head in shame.

“I’ll see what Nat can bring up.” Steve answered and hung up.

Bucky silently prayed that he was wrong. That his eyes were playing tricks on him and he was looking for a reason to step in and be your knight in shining armour. Even if he had the chance to, he would never want to put Y/N through that. So instead he just sighed and drove away from the cafe, swearing to himself that if Nat found nothing he would never visit the cafe again. As he drove away he was blissfully unaware of a figure watching him and taking pictures.

Y/N pulled into her drive with Benny in the back seat. She pulled in to see the lights in the house were on and she braced herself. Putting on her best smile she went to get Benny out of the back seat.

“So sweetie remember that if Daddy asks you were at school all day, okay?” Y/N asked holding his hand.

Benny just nodded, but neither of them could have prepared on what they would walk into.

Bucky was in his apartment and he hated it. Something about the tall ceilings, endless ornaments and cold colours made his skin crawl. It was nothing like how Y/N’s cafe had been to him only a few hours ago. Instead he was alone with only the contents of his glass to keep him company. He was pacing around his living room with his records playing loudly to drown out his thoughts of worry and dread about what could be happening to Benny and Y/N. It wasn’t until the phone rang that Bucky was torn from his thoughts. Bucky got up from his seat and answered the call.

“Hello, who is this?” Bucky asked.

“It’s me punk and if I were you I'd get down here within the next 5 minutes.” Steve ordered down the line.

He sounded pissed, he didn’t even give Bucky a chance to reply before he hung up. Steve had been Bucky’s best friend since childhood but the tone in his voice made it sound as if he was ready to put a bullet between his eyes. Bucky gulped and grabbed his jacket before leaving for Steve’s mansion just outside of the city.

Steve was NYC’s kingpin, he owned it. Steve made the law and god help the poor soul who broke it. Bucky had always been his right hand man, together they had taken over NYC like a plague in less than a year. There wasn’t a single policeman, lawyer or counsel man who wasn’t on their payroll. Hell not even the mayor had as much power as Steve did.

Bucky walked up to Steve’s office and Sam was outside along with Clint and neither of them looked happy. Bucky was about to walk in when Clint stopped him. Bucky paused looking at the pair confused until Clint held out a briefcase. Bucky couldn’t believe it, it was the case Steve would use to get people to hand over his weapons in meetings. Did his best friend not trust him now? What the hell was going on?

“Sorry man, bosses orders.” Sam explained.

Reluctantly Bucky handed over his gun and walked into Steve’s office. He was greeted with the sight of Steve and Nat both giving him dark looks. The worst of it was Nat’s stare, the way she was psychoanalysing his every step. Bucky sat down in the seat opposite the pair and waited for someone to tell him what the hell was going on.

After letting him sweat for a few seconds Natalia pulled out a large brown envelope. She pulled out some photographs and then what looked like a copy of the certificate. Bucky studied the images, they looked a little old, some of them had been taken from newspapers with the head line, ‘Infamous Bachelor Brock Rumlow finally Hitched’. Bucky held up the photo closer, it couldn’t be. But it was, clear as day it was Y/N in a white gown next to Brock. Bucky inspected the rest of the pictures, they were of Y/N but with an older gentleman. Bucky looked closer and finally placed the man… Alexander PIerce. Finally he was the certificate, the union of Y/N Pierce and Brock Rumlow. Bucky felt sick as he read the names over and over. Pierce, the name of the man who tried to take everything from him. Bucky was young and naive, Pierce promised Bucky the world and instead took his arm and tortured him for months to try and send a message to Steve. His prosthetic arm felt a lot heavier as he slumped back into his seat.

“Wanna tell me why you’re seeing Rumlow’s wife, Pierce's Daughter… if it’s revenge you’re looking for here Buck you could've just told me.” Steve began.

“It’s not like that-“ Bucky began trying to explain himself

“Sam tells me you’ve been seeing her everyday for the past month or so, the kid to,” Natalia pulled out another photo showing the three of them outside the school, “honestly not your usual strategy Barnes.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know OKAY.” Bucky exclaimed.

He could hardly breathe, this all too much. He sure as hell wasn’t going after Y/N in that way but was Y/N going after him? No surely not, if that was the case Benny wouldn’t be involved. On top of that, why would Y/N’s bakery be in Steve’s territory? His mind was going 100 miles an hour when suddenly his phone rang. All three of them looked puzzled, who the hell would be calling him this time of night?Cautiously he pulled the phone out of his pocket

“Hello?”

“Hewwo Mister Bucky Sir, I think my Mom needs your help.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob!au #mob!bucky #parent!reader #marvel fanfiction

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fifielady · 4 years

Text

Soulmates and Stairs? Disaster

Day 2 of @usukweek || Pining | Soulmate AU

Note/s: I always get lazy by the end of the story I’m writing (シ_ _)シ

"Good job, arsehole."

"Arthur, I... I'm really sorry." Alfred kept his eyes on the bland gray-blue (he'd asked a nurse which colors were which while waiting for Arthur) tiled hospital floor, he couldn't seem to at least muster up the courage to look at the other person in the eye and apologize for what seemed like the eleventh time after he accompanied Arthur to the hospital. It was both embarrassing and disheartening that he left such a terrible impression on his soulmate. A terrible and utterly painful physical impression as well.

An hour and a half ago, before they could finally see the blindingly beautiful colors and were sitting in the hospital with Arthur Kirkland's left arm in a cast and Alfred F. Jones regretting and savoring the good and the bad of the consequences of his actions, they were both in the student park in front of the male dormitories spending time on their weekends. Separately, that is. Arthur was sitting on the narrow cobble stairs that lead to the old but sturdy dorms while Alfred was sitting under the canopy of a tree admiring the view.

Alfred was finishing up his essay outside his dorm room because he left his key on his desk when he rushed to his one and only 9 a.m. Saturday class. He was lucky his laptop was fully charged before he headed out, bringing his charger would've been useless since most of the outlets in the common room were always occupied. Besides, the weather was nice enough, for a cloudy day, to spend outside while he worked on his homework. But while he waited for his roommate to come back from buying comics and manga (or was Kiku visiting his Greek soulmate's apartment?), he glimpsed the one and only Arthur Kirkland sitting on the steps furiously working his pencil on a sketchbook.

He thought while unknowingly pressing on the letter 's' on the keyboard, Ah, wow, he looks lovely as always. Though Alfred could only see the light gray shade of Arthur's hair and the dark gray shine in his eyes and even an almost white complexion, there's no way colors would even matter to the sheer handsomeness of Arthur Kirkland. He was very much lucky he could see him almost every day.

Arthur's room was directly across his and Kiku's and though he'd never even talked to him before, except for that acknowledging nod he got when he picked up the guy's Calc textbook, Alfred had developed a crush on him that seemed to grow into something more whenever Alfred was able to catch sight of Arthur. He punched his pillow to exhaustion that night for missing the opportunity to at least brush the skin of their fingers together when Arthur took the book from him. Alfred was guilty, even right now actually, that he'd liked someone who might not turn out to be his intended. It was kinda silly that he'd felt he was cheating on his soulmate when he knew that Arthur probably didn't even know his name.

Alfred forced himself to stop staring because he'd look creepy like that one girl who was always stalking his Russian classmate and that he really should carry on with his essay and other homework, so he graced himself one last look of longing to Arthur for the day and face his open word document only to look down and see that there were two pages filled with "s"s. Nothing a ctrl+z can't handle. Bless technology and Arthur Kirkland's adorably grumpy face of concentration while drawing. Well, not just his looks, he'd seen the guy helping other people without them noticing and it was so 'noble' of him and it made Alfred want to hug him and happy-cry.

Hm. He really should start on finishing his work. But all his pining made him hungry. His stomach grumbled as if to agree. Alfred pursed his lips and thought for a moment. If he were to pass by his crush on the narrow staircase, maybe he could say hi and stuff and invite him out for a snack, and voila!, their first conversation and, maybe, a date. It's a good start, at least.

Like a man on the most super important mission of his life, he'd quickly gathered his things and was basically skipping over to Arthur who was ever so focused on his illustration. Alfred put on his Gonna-Get-Me-Some Smile™ and waved when he was a few feet near the base of the stairs where Arthur was, "Hey Art--WaaAH!"

Something caught his right foot and it was moments before his social death on the ground when he felt a warm body barreling against him and breaking his fall, two bodies tumbling down beside the foot of the stairs. Someone groaned, or maybe they both did, Alfred something felt warm and soft and a bit bony under him. Funny, when was the ground ever bony? Or soft? A whimper caught his attention, oh that definitely wasn't him. Alfred opened his eyes as he stood up to see Arthur on his back wincing.

"AAH- I'm so sorry, are you okay?!"

Arthur only whimpered in response, his eyes were closed tight and there were droplets on his lashes beginning to form. His left arm was positioned weirdly, too. Uh-oh. Arms weren't supposed to bend like that. "Arthur? Arthur, you gotta stay with me," Alfred frantically and lightly tapped on Arthur's cheek. The man's thick brows furrowed into a grimace so Alfred changed tactics. He carded his fingers to brush Arthur's bangs away to clear his face and continued the hair-stroking to soothe him a little bit.

"It-it hurtss... Aaarghh..."

Alfred felt his heart clench. "It's alright, buddy. I'm gonna shout for someone to call for a nurse and we'll go to the hospital, 'kay?"

Arthur only moaned back, tears slowly falling down his face. "Art, hey, can you open your eyes for me? You gotta stay awake. Please stay awake."

He was squinting, and blinking to adjust to the light behind Alfred. The other realized this and shifted slightly to shade Arthur's face. Slowly, and very slowly, just like the slow-motion in the movies, Arthur fluttered his eyelids and all Alfred could see was a color so deep he could in forever hidden behind the long, long the dark and bright lashes of his. And immeasurable pain! Right!

"I'm really sorry about this but you've gotta hold on, soulmate, I'm gonna take you to the hospital and get you patched up."

And that was how he'd given his soulmate a temporary painful physical impression. Talk about his strange luck. Alfred scratched the back of his neck, this was just so nerve-wracking! "Right, um, at least it wasn't your right hand...?"

Arthur also kept his eyes glued on his lap, refusing to even look at him. "I'm left-handed, you fool."

"But... you were drawing with your right hand earlier?" He asked albeit hesitantly and a lot quieter than he usually was.

"I was scribbling out my anger. I'm useless with my right hand. And thanks to you unexpectedly trampling down, I won't be able to use my dominant hand to do anything competently." Arthur shifted his head to the opposite of Alfred, his cheeks and the tips of his ears were tinting 'red'. Crap, Alfred really messed this up. Of course Arthur would be angry. "Even your maddeningly daunting presence makes it difficult to breathe."

That made Alfred wince but he took it. It hurt but Arthur's broken arm was a lot worse. He took a deep breath, "Look, man, if you really hate me being around you that much then I'll leave you alone, okay? You don't have to insult someone who's supposedly your soulmate."

Arthur snapped his head back to face his faster than a cheetah with his eyes comically wide, "Wha-- That's not what I-- "

"It's nice meeting ya, soulmate. I'll get out of your way now." Alfred rose up from his seat, eyes misting. He really messed it all up. Just when he finally attempted to start something, he'd trip and had his soulmate break his arm while breaking his fall. Alfred suck-- "Ack--! Are you trying to choke me?! Seriously, getting even by strangling me to death?"

His shirt collar loosened up a bit. Damn, Arthur was strong! Enough to asphyxiate someone like his only soulmate. Alfred pulled back on the front of his collar to even out Arthur's intense pulling on the back of his collar. 'Useless with his right hand', his ass! Arthur could still probably lift a coin jar with that hand. "Are you as thick as a jar of peanut butter?" Arthur's English accent got thicker and thicker as he slowly let go of his grip on Alfred's collar to just playing with the hem of Al's wrinkled shirt. "Just... just let me continue and actually listen to what I say."

Alfred immediately resisted from running away in tears and stood silent in the hall with Arthur behind him. He could feel the other pinching and rubbing the cloth of his shirt. Softly, as if fearing Alfred would take off if he made himself louder, Arthur muttered, "I'm left-handed and we are soulmates. I, erm, I need another hand to help me around."

"Eh?" Alfred turned around to face Arthur. The guy's eyes were still focused on the ground but the increasing 'red' tint of his cheeks was, in two words, adorably delectable.

"Just until the cast comes off! It's your duty you know..."

Eeehh? What the--? Really?! How was this guy so--!

"As my soulmate, that is."

Alfred couldn't help himself and put his arms around the smaller frame of his soulmate. "Oh my God!" Alfred exclaimed, glee and relief quickly taking over his mind and heart, "You're so freakin' adorable! I can't--!"

He swayed their bodies to and fro, never faltering the strength he'd put in their embrace. Yes! Yesyesyesyesyeees! Alfred was so lucky!

"This arrangement is only until the cast comes off! Oomph, mind my arm, my arm!"

Suffice to say, the arrangement lasted for the rest of their lives. With Arthur also reciprocating more than the help he needed, of course

#usukweek #APH England #hws america #hws england #usuk #aph usuk #soulmate au #pining #aph america #day 2 #fi writes #hetalia #Hetalia Fanfiction #Axis Powers Hetalia #usuk fanfiction #fluff

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

Drabble: Pairs (baon)

Summary: This is why Edge usually gets the mail

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

“hey, check it out!”

Edge looked up from his laptop as Stretch dashed in, all but bubbling with excitement as he came through the door with a package in one hand and the rest of the mail haphazardly clenched in the other

Usually Edge got the mail despite most of it being for Stretch. His husband got letters from all over the world, from other scientists, from fans on social media. Occasionally those letters were only addressed to ‘Stretch’ or whatever his latest twitter name was. Last time Edge looked it was ‘Albert Spinestein’.

What Stretch did not know was that all his mail went through a special screening before it came to the house. It wasn’t strictly a secret, if Stretch asked, Edge would give him an honest answer, but neither did he bring it up. A lie of omission, certainly, and one that would likely earn him a few nights sleeping alone.

Foolish, really. If he sat Stretch down and explained his reasons, the likelihood was high that he would be understanding. High, yes, but not a certainty, and if he asked them to stop, Edge would be forced to either do as he was asked or commit an actual deception.

Easier to not ask and if that were cowardly, Edge would accept the title gladly to keep Stretch safe.

Like it or not, Stretch was becoming quite the public figure and Edge was not about to allow any deranged person physically hurt him by way of a package or letter. Possible emotional damage was unfortunately unpreventable unless Stretch was informed. Edge wouldn’t allow his mail to be secretly read; there was a fine line between a scan checking for bombs or suspicious powders and an unforgivable invasion of privacy, one that Edge was struggling not to cross.

The padded envelope in Stretch’s hands was small and plump, the contents seemed soft. Edge set his laptop aside and gave Stretch his full attention, watching as he tore the envelope open with all the elegance of a lion taking down a wildebeest. Bits of yellow paper flew and the packaged contents fell to the floor, the envelope gutted.

Stretch snatched it back up and held both filled hands out, “i got us matching socks!”

Edge blinked and looked at the socks in question. Two identical bundles, one in each hand and from this distance, the patterns weren’t distinct, but the colors were. Stretch held a rainbow in each fist, bright reds and greens and yellows, was that chickens on the top pair? Edge was very much afraid they were.

Stretch was still chattering on, “i mean, matching clothes is kinda lame, right? not bad!” Stretch added hurriedly, as if Edge were about to furiously argue the merits of couples strolling through town in matching sailor suits, “people can do that if they want. but you don’t really like slogan t-shirt’s, and these were funny!”

As quick as a blink, that excitement faltered into uncertainty, “i mean, if you want to. if you think it’s stupid, we don’t have to. i just thought, no one can really see your socks so it would be our funny secret, and you could be wearing the same socks as me while you were at work and i was at home and no one would ever know—it’s stupid, isn’t it, never mind, i’ll toss them all in my drawer…”

“It’s not stupid, love,” Edge raised his voice to be heard over the disheartened rambling, “I would be more than happy to wear whatever socks you’ve chosen. May I see them?”

For split-second he thought Stretch was going to refuse and shortcut off to stash the socks away. Instead, he shuffled forward and sheepishly dropped a set into Edge’s lap.

He picked them up, examining the patterns, and they were far worse than he could have dreamed. Wherever Stretch found these socks apparently carried an entire line, without care for whether the chicken came before the egg. A blue pair with red hens scattered around them, another pair that made the wearer appear to have cartoon chicken feet, others with various chicken and egg themes. By far the worst was the pair with a large chicken bent over to expose generous proportions and proclaiming ‘Guess What? Chicken Butt!’ in large letters.

They were nightmares woven of a cotton and nylon blend.

“see?” Stretch’s enthusiasm was muted, lined with hopefulness. “i thought they were funny, chickens are sort of our thing, right and, okay, yeah, they’re pretty silly, but—”

The rest of the words were smothered beneath Edge’s gentle, hushing kiss. Stretch leaned into it with a sigh, very nearly crawling into Edge’s lap when he drew away. Edge held him back, stripping away the packaging on the socks. He pulled off the pair he was wearing, a sedate, plain black, and slipped on the ‘butt’ pair.

Horrifying, yes, but worth it for the spark of delighted humor shining in his husband’s eye lights.

“No pictures,” Edge warned, “you did say this was our secret.”

“promise!” Stretch said, solemnly, drawing an ‘x’ over his sternum with his finger. Then he tore the packaging away from his own set and slipped his matching socks on.

“Awesome,” Stretch said gleefully. He flopped down on the sofa, settling his skull on Edge’s thigh. He raised one foot high and waggled his toes happily and the chicken’s rear end rippled with them. Edge could only watch with a sort of gruesome fascination. Luckily, Stretch bored of it quickly, rolling over to lay on his side, his legs tucked in so that his feet didn’t dangle over the arm. “thanks, babe.”

Edge wasn’t about to pretend that this was anything else than a favor done out of affection. “You’re welcome, love.”

Stretch snuggled in closer, his voice already taking on a hint of drowsiness. “now if i could only figure out why everything i order with two-day shipping always takes three days to get here. s’weird.”

Edge did not let his gentle stroking so much as hesitate. “I can look into it if you like.” And insist that all packages be screened and delivered to Stretch the day they came through.

“nah, so long as they get here, no big deal. not to me, anyway.” Stretch’s breathing deepened as he drifted off to sleep.

Edge contemplated that for a long moment, then let it go, tucked away into his mental file of ‘better to not ask.’ He went back to his laptop as Stretch napped away, wriggling his own toes inside the socks.

At least they were comfortable and if it made him the ‘butt’ of a joke, well, he and Stretch could be a matched set.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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leoswritingcorner · 4 years

Text

an oracle in olympus pt. 3

i’m sorry for how long this took, but i’m back at it again! shout out to @headcanonsfromanelfblossom for being my beta and all of you for inspiring me! <3 part 3 of ?

Olympus, the home of the gods. Mighty and grand, and in all its splendor!

...basically looked like something out of a vintage Aspen postcard. There was no plumes of clouds swirling over golden roads. Chariots and pegasus weren’t racing across the skyline. There wasn’t even a single Corinthian pillar in sight.

Lucky shoves her hands into the pockets of the 90’s print neon windbreaker Lucy lent to wear over her party dress from the night before. The wind is chilly, even for late Summer. She looks around, taking in the sight of the mountain ranges in the distance, and the closer rolling hills lined with pine trees. In the center of it all, a simple looking town laid there.

So far off from what she would draw of Olympus as a kid.

“Luce, just take Avernus Lake Boulevard, it’s the easiest way.” Jamie says, fishing her phone out of a glittery clutch bag.

Lucy shakes her head. “Alkyonian Lake Drive is what I used before, so I’ll use it again.” she argues. She swings the door of her Volkswagen open and looks to Lucky. “Ready?” She calls out. “We gotta hurry, traffic is a killer around the breakfast rush.”

Lucky looks away from the town with a pout. “Olympus is just like Aspen?” She asks a bit disheartened. “That’s another thing, why aren’t y’all in Greece?” She questions, climbing into the car.

In the front seat, Jamie buckles herself in. “We go back, like, now and then. But ever since mortals lost sight and belief in us,”she trails off and shrugs. “We just roam around, but Ran- er, Zeus took a real liking to Colorado so, we’ve been here for, like, the last hundred centuries.” She explains easily.

“Oh.” Lucky says nodding. “Looks like y’all like keepin’ it modern, too?”

Lucy starts up the car, pulling out of the driveway. “Well yeah. You’d expect us to just be in the Bronze Age forever?” She asks back. “We like a bit of modernism, too.”

A sheepish look crosses Lucky’s face. “I guess that makes sense.” She says quietly. Lucy chuckles, catching Lucky’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“But sometimes Zeus feels nostalgic and we’ll have a day or two when this place looks a bit more how it used to.” She adds.

It would have been a quiet ride into town if it hadn’t been for a Gary Newman song blaring on the speakers.

Lucy taps her fingers in beat to the song on the steering wheel. Jamie’s own fingers tap rapidly the screen of her phone. Lucky leans up slightly, catching a glance of the name of who she was texting ‘A❤️💖 💝💘💗💞💕💓😍’

Smiling slightly Lucky slumps back down. ‘A’, she had a slight idea who that might have been. Absently, her hand lifts up and her fingers brush the lines of the splotchy birthmark on her chest.

What if she really was some reincarnated oracle from Ancient Greece?

‘No.’ Lucky pushes away the thought. ‘No, I am not Tyche. I’m Lucky.’

For the briefest and scariest second, a sense of uncertainty fills her.

‘Aren’t I?’

“So.” Lucky speaks up to stop her thinking from going any further. “Y-Y’all have mentioned some guy named Clyde. Who is he?”

The song comes to an end and finally silence fills the car.

Lucy draws out a long “Uuuhhh…”

Jamie pats her friend’s shoulder a few times as if to reset her. “He was, like, a good friend of Tyche.”

“He was a really good friend of hers.” Lucy adds, her voice dipping a little at ‘really’.

Before Lucky could respond, Jamie claps her hands. “Oh, let’s stop at Tweek’s!” She suggests. “We need to, like, make change and I could go for, like, some pastries.”

Lucy nods, flipping on the turn signal. “Good idea.” She agrees. They pull into a small plaza that sits nestled in the shadow of a mountain. Lucky leans forward, peering from between Lucy and Jamie. She hadn’t even noticed they passed by the town and were nearing a mountain range, a more shadowy looking one of all of them. Lucky starts to feel a heaviness grow in the pit of her stomach as they cruise by various shops in the rundown plaza.

‘Grief Counseling by Penthos’ read one sign. Next to it, another sign read ‘Geras’ Old Age Vintage Shop’. Lucy pulls up to the end of the shops, passing into a drive through. ‘Tweek Bros Coffee’ was painted across the window, the word ‘Curae’s’ had clearly been scraped off.

Rolling down the window, Lucy leans out as a static voice yelps from the drive thru.

“Gah! H-How can I help you?”

Lucy lifts her sunglasses. “Hey, Tweek. Give me and Jams our usual, please.” She orders. Turning to Lucky, she asks. “Want anything?”

“Uh.” Lucky blinks. “N-No. I think I’m okay. Don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

Lucy shrugs, calling back out. “And that’ll be it.”

“Y-Your total is f-five dollars. Aw, jeez!” The voice exclaims. Lucy zooms around the corner and plucks the ten dollar bill Jamie hands to her. At the window, a young man with wild blonde hair stands twitching and trembling.

“How’s it going, Tweek?” Lucy asks politely, taking the cups of beverage and bag. Tweek shakes, looking over his shoulder.

“Awful!” He cries. His head twitches and his eyes shut tight. “Pete!” He points to one of the shops in the plaza. “He’s going to kill me and take my shop, I just know it!” The girl follow his finger to look to the store front simply marked ‘Phobos’ where a sullen young man with dark hair stood, staring right at them.

Unblinking. Unmoving.

All three grimace and look away.

“I’ll try and talk to him.” Lucy offers. “We’re gonna see Cherry, Tweekie. Can I get coins as my change?”

“Rrgh.” Tweek replies, taking the money. He fumbles with the register before dropping three silver coins into Lucy’s hands. “Here!”

“Thanks, Tweek.” Lucy says sweetly. She gives a wiggly-fingered wave and drives off. Lucky finally finds her voice.

“That...that was Curae? Anxiety?” She asks, her voice pitching slightly. Lucy sips at her drink.

“Mmhm. Not a lot of mortals know that.” Lucy nods, making a check shape in the air with her finger. “Another point for the reincarnated Oracle!”

Lucky scoffs. “I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Classical Studies, majoring in Greek Mythology. I’m also working on earning my PhD in the field as well. And!” She lifts her pointer finger. “I was just hired as a docent at the Denver Art Museum heading the Greek Mythos exhibit so…” She makes an exaggerated air check mark. “Point for Lucky Siddalee Day, girl who worked her ass off in college!”

Lucy and Jamie peer at each other.

‘Nerd’ Lucy mouths.

Lucky folds her arms over her chest, looking out the window as the mountain comes closer as the Volkswagen drives on. “But, um, those names back in that plaza.” She says hesitantly, pointing over her shoulder “Those...guys are the ones you’d kinda meet before…” Lucky trails off, unsure if she wants to even think of finishing the sentence she was about to speak.

The looming shadow of the mountain covers the car. Lucky looks out the window and feels her heart leap into her throat.

An immaculate sign made of white stone greets them. It’s black letters carved meticulously, into it, reading;

Welcome to Underworld Co.

A cool chill seems to settle over the Volkswagen as they drove further down into the cavern of the mountain. Any traces of the sun vanishes completely, and only the light of torches lit with flames guide them along. Rows and rows of cars occupy the parking spaces; cars ranging from decade to decade. Lucky swears she sees a Rolls-Royce 10 hp as they drive by.

Lucy turns the steering wheel left, then right, then left again. “Dick!” She exclaims when a wall comes up. Lucky blinks and rubs her eyes. Was that wall there before? Lucy shares a few choice swear words in modern English and ancient Greek as she throws the car into reverse.

Again, she turns left, then right...right one more time. Jamie shakes her head as another wall seems to magically appear. Lucky looks around. “What is all this?” She asks, ignoring Lucy’s agitated grumbling.

Jamie looks over her shoulder to her. “Parking garage. If Lucy, like, took, Avernus Lake Boulevard like I told her, we would’ve had valet parking.”

“Jamie.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “The last time I used valet, the harpies practically tore my car to shreds. And- aha!” Lucy veers the car to a sharp left into an empty spot. “See? Barely took us even twenty minutes.”

The three climb out of the Volkswagen and Lucky looks around the parking garage. It was a maze. Literally. The ramps shifted and turned, while walls appeared and vanished. A car zooms by them and screeches as the road turns and sends it crashing into a dead end. Lucy winces. “Hope they got insurance.” She comments lightly. The three avoid more cars speeding by and make their way to an elevator.

A wispy ghostly figure of a man is there to welcome them as the elevator doors slide open. Lucky yelps, covering her mouth. He turns his head and Lucky winces when she sees the gruesome way he met his end, with a long slash stretches across his throat. Lucky is sure her chest is pulsing visibly with each pound of her heart. Jamie easily catches her from tumbling off the curb.

“Going down?” The ghost asks politely. Lucy nods, as they step in. She passes a silver coin to the ghost who smiles. “Ah, going way down. Elevator Styx to Main Lobby!” It calls out, cranking a lever. The doors seal shut behind them, and Jamie grips onto the railings, bracing herself. Lucy does the same and looks to Lucky.

“Better hold on tight.” She warns.

Lucky isn’t sure what is more terrifying, the elevator plunging downward or the sound of the muzak cover of Lady by Styx blaring over the speakers. Either way, her screams echo the entire way down.

Lucky can barely appreciate the Corinthian columns she thought she would have seen earlier. She clings tightly to Lucy’s arm as they walk down the hallways of white marble walls accented with ebony and gold designs.

It was all so elegant, and yet, so cold.

“Oh, poor Lucky.” Jamie says, gently trying to push down the curls of Lucky’s hair that stuck up on end from the elevator ride. “It’s, like, taken me over, like, a thousand years to get used to that drop. Are you going to be alright?” She asks

Lucky nods. “J-Just waitin’ for my soul to catch up with my body.” She replies weakly.

A high pitched nasally voice speaks up as they step into the main lobby. “Welcome to the Underworld Co, what d’ya want?”

Lucky jumps, and looks up to catch sight of a harsh looking woman sitting at the front desk. Her hair seemed to slither, but not with snakes. Her skin was a pale grey and her hallowed eyes stare the three visitors down, as if they interrupted something very important.

“I said.” Comes her nasally voice again. “What. Do. You. Want.” She bites out, pointing her nail file at them with each word. “All My Demigods is on and you’re wasting my time!”

“Hey, Erinyes, um, One?” Lucy greets. The woman’s eyes seem to darken more. “Two.” Lucy corrects herself quickly. The woman relaxes a bit and goes back to filing her claws. “We need to see Cherry.”

Erinyes Two snorts. “Yeah? You and half of Olympus and the Mortal World. You’ll need tah schedule a meeting with the boss like everyone else.”

Lucy frowns slightly. “Listen, can you just tell her that Dionysus and Aphrodite are here to see her?”

At that Erinyes Two gasps over dramatically and puts a hand to her chest. “Oh, we have name-dropping gawds here! I’ll get right on that!” She nods. Lucy narrows her eyes as Erinyes Two smirks. “Sit down, wino-head. I’ll see if the boss can squeeze you in.”

Lucy takes one, two, and three breaths as Jamie guides her away from the front desk and to the waiting area. The chairs- actually, chaises were comfortable at least. Lucky sits down between Lucy and Jamie. Lucy sat nearly seething.

“I can’t stand dealing with Erinyes. Any of them.” She says, snatching up a magazine titled “Better Hearth and Home”. Across the room a wide screen flat TV showed the scene of a gorgon woman, slapping a Minotaur across the face.

Erinyes Two cackles. “He had that comin’” She says mainly to herself.

Lucky sits back. Lucy wasn’t kidding when she said that Olympus was keeping up with modern times, maybe even a bit more advanced. A wisp of another ghost floats down the hallway, a woman who appeared to be from another time and age, followed moments later by a man who looked like he stepped out of a 1950’s movie set. At the desk Erinyes Two sighs dreamily as he passes.

Lucky’s jaw drops slightly and she turns to Jamie. “Was that…?” She whispers in astonishment.

Jamie glances up from her phone and nods. “Yeah, that’s him.” She replies, there’s almost a hint of a sigh in her voice as well. “Who knew a ghost of a mortal would be such a star here in Olympus too?”

Another hour passes and Lucky begins to feel restless. There’s only so much daytime television that one can watch, in the Mortal world and Olympus. She feels like she’s read through all the magazines on the table; Demeter’s Fine Gardening, Chronos, Olympus Weekly. But Lucy and Jamie seem barely fazed by the dragging of time. That must’ve been one of the perks of being a goddess.

A loud banging of a door opening wide shakes the room. Erinyes Two jumps and stands at attention. “Good Afternoon, sir.” She greets politely. Any and all traces of the rudeness that she had greeted them with early disappeared entirely.

Lucky leans forward to see a man coming in. As wide as he was tall. He wore a black suit, designed with tiny floral prints of blood red roses, and twisting green stems. If one looked quick enough, hints of skulls could be caught between the prints of flowers. Was...was this Hades?

“Ooooh Koooore.” Lucy sing-songs teasingly, standing up.

At that, the man blisters and whips his head around towards them. There’s an angry color on his cheeks as his eyes narrow.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no freaking way.

Lucky giggles in disbelief, and covers her mouth to hide the sound. It’s too late, Persephone heard her.

“Who the hell are you?” He demands, storming over. Lucky stumbles, dropping her purse as she goes to stand up. Persephone is before her, practically towering above Lucky. There’s a light scent of flowers followed quickly by almost metallic smell. Lucky holds her breath and peers up at him.

Persephone pauses, his eyes widening slightly before his steely glare returns. “I said who the hell are you? Speak up, mortal!” He snaps- literally snapping his fingers with each word.

“Oh come off it, Kore.” Lucy cuts in, gently tugging Lucky away from his imposing figure. “Where’s Cherry?”

Persephone grunts in frustration. “Stop callin’ me that, you dumb drunk. Did you come here just to bother me?”

“Dear.” Comes a new voice. Soft and light. It’s spoken in a tone almost above a whisper, but it carries so well across the marble walls. At the voice, Persephone’s anger melts away, replaced with a charming smile and light in his eyes.

“Darling.” He calls back. “Your friends came to visit, seems they brought us another stray.” He shoots them a secret look, just before a woman comes around the corner.

Lucky stares in awe of the god of the underworld. Hades.

The very picture of elegance in a black dress of lace and satin, designed to match her lover’s; twisting patterns of vines and skulls. The red curls of her hair twisted carefully into a pilat crown.

Her gaze is slow, careful, and observant as she looks over Lucky. In that moment, Lucky isn’t sure if she should bow or curtsy. Or faint. That’s what she really felt like doing.

“Cherry.” Lucy greets, smiling. She’s standing by Lucky now, hanging an arm over her shoulders. “This is our new friend. We need your help.”

Persephone makes an agitated grunt. “You know we don’t spare mortal souls.”

“Eric.” Cherry says. So that was his name. Lucky thinks it suits him a bit more than Persephone. However, Persephone did have it’s darker meaning. Cherry gives her husband a gentle smile. “You are right. We do not spare souls so easily, however, she is not dead.” Her eyes look to Lucky again.

Lucky smiles weakly. “Well, guess ya wouldn’t be the ruler of the underworld if ya didn’t know that.” She jokes, hoping to ease the growing tension. Eric seems to bristle again.

Cherry doesn’t laugh, but her smile doesn’t falter either. “What is your name?” She asks.

“It’s…” Lucky begins. Her tongue nearly betrays her when she feels the letter T forming on her lips. “Lucky.” She says quickly. “It’s Lucky. That’s my name.”

At that, Cherry lifts her eyes to Lucy and Jamie. Lucky doesn’t see the way the two goddesses nod.

Jamie speaks up. “Cherry, do you think, like there may be a chance, like, she could be…”

Cherry turns her stunned gaze back to Lucky. “Tyche.” She says in a whisper.

Eric’s eyes grow wide. His body seems to freeze on the spot. He barely hears the way Cherry asks the three visitors to follow her to the Archive Room. He watches the short brunette follow after them. It could not be her. He regains feeling in his body and finally his brain begins to think again, saying the first thought that came to him.

“Oh, shit.”

The Archive Room is not unlike any other office space. Save for the floor to ceiling filing cabinets, long ladders and winged monsters soaring back and forth.

Lucky sits across from Cherry, watching as the goddess takes a box from one of the monsters, nodding her thanks. “I apologize for the mess.” Cherry says. “We are beginning to go...digital.” She finishes with a sigh.

Eric is not too far, drinking a large cup of mead. “It’s going to really help us be more organized and keep track of all these souls and more.” He points out. “It was my idea.” He adds grinning.

Lucy snorts. “Humble as always.”

Eric shows her a view of one of his fingers in a quick motion.

“These are the T files. Tyche’s name should be here.” Cherry’s fingers barely seem like they even graze the tips of the file tops. Lucky glances to Jamie and Lucy nervously. They smile back to her, and Jamie takes her hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Don’t worry.” Jamie assures her.

Lucky watches as Cherry wordlessly scans the file from top to bottom. Her eyes moving in a swift but steady motion. Eric downs his mead and swallows loudly, watching the scene closely.

Cherry inhales sharply, her movements coming to a halt. “I do not...understand.” Cherry says. “Tyche is not listed here.”

“What?” Lucy, Lucky and Jamie all blurt out at once.

Eric is quick, he comes to Cherry’s side and takes the file box in his arms. “We’re in the process of going digital remember?” He points out. “Maybe her file was just taken out of order.”

Lucy doesn’t seem to accept the answer. “She has a mark. The one mortals carry if their souls return.”

Cherry opens her mouth, but Eric is the one to reply. “That rarely ever happens. Even then it takes a mortal nearly thousands of centuries of penance.” He explains quickly. “Your friend is...just some coincidence.”

“Yeah, I think we came here to talk with Cherry.” Lucy growls. “You know, the actual ruler here?”

Eric’s face goes red. “What makes you so sure about her anyway?!”

Lucky shoves away from the table, and stands. All eyes turn to her as she snatches the windbreaker up, “If no one has answers. I want to go home. Oracle or not.” She says. With a swift turn, she storms out of the room.

Jamie and Lucy begin to follow before Cherry lifts her hand to stop them. Wordlessly, she follows after Lucky.

Lucky leans against the wall, her head tilted back. Her eyes trace the patterns of gold traced through the marble. She counts to ten and closes her eyes. Still a strong unease racks her body.

What and why the hell was this happening to her?

This week began so, well, normally. Now all of a sudden…

“Dear, will you be alright?”

Lucky gasps and opens her eyes. Cherry is standing beside her. There’s a concerned look on her face. “I am sorry about everything that happened back there.” She continues. “I can only imagine how overwhelmed you may be feeling.”

Lucky grunts. “I am beyond overwhelmed.” She mumbles, crossing her arms. “Nothin’ is makin’ sense anymore. In the span of nearly 24 hours, I feel like I’ve been thrown into a bad dream I can’t wake up from. Suddenly, I can’t stop...doubting who I am.”

Cherry listens carefully. “You are having doubts. Do you feel less like yourself?”

“Ever since I heard Tyche.” Lucky sighs. “Tyche...Tyche. Lucky…” She pushes a hand to her head. “I can’t be some ancient oracle. It’s just ain’t possible.”

“Yet, you are here. The Underworld, Olympus…” Cherry says, motioning around. “Lucy says you are clear of drunkenness.”

Lucky laughs dryly. “My stars how I wish I was.” She rubs her arms and looks around the hallway before looking back to Cherry. “Do ya think I’m...I could be her?”

“It is possible. Yet, I would not understand how. Eric may be...severe. But he is correct. The way souls can return is quite rare.” Cherry explains. “However, something does present itself as odd.”

Right, the whole issue of Tyche’s name being missing. Maybe her file was replaced or lost in the transition. Lucky hums and closes her eyes.

“There is a way.” Cherry speaks up. “If you truly wish to find out if you are Tyche or not.”

Lucky looks to her again. “How?” She asks.

“Drink from the River Mnemosyne.” Cherry replies.

Lucky breathes in. Of course the River Mnemosyne could help. If she was Tyche, her memories would come back. She’d…

She’d no longer be Lucky.

“No.” Lucky says quickly. “No, no. I can’t” She shakes her head.

Cherry nods in understanding. “I respect that. Yet, you should know...word spreads fast in Olympus. Oracle or not. Your presence here is known.”

Lucky pales as Cherry finishes her warning. She seems every bit of the goddess of the underworld as her eyes seem to darken and her voice sends trembles through Lucky’s very bones “Some gods and goddesses will be eager to know the truth, my dear. Take care.”

Lucky breathes in the scent of her apartment. Cinnamon and worn books.

It’s so comforting.

Jamie thinks so as she lounges across the couch. “I’ve never stayed a whole night in the mortal realm in, like, years!” She says happily. “Or been to a sleepover!”

Lucky rolls her eyes and presses the popcorn button on the microwave. “Let’s not make it a habit.” She says. Lucy opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of root beer.

“I can make this wine, you know.” She offers. Lucky goes green slightly at the memory of the night before. Lucy shakes her head. “I guess not. Hey…”

“Hm?” Lucky prompts, fishing in a cabinet for a bowl.

“I’m sorry.” Lucy apologizes. “I got a bit extra with Eric and the news. Also, kidnapping you to Olympus.” She adds sheepishly. Lucky turns to Lucy and smiles slightly.

“Thank you.” She says, coming up to Lucy. “Promise you’ll ask me next time? And...keep helping me find out the truth? Slowly.”

Lucy grins tugging Lucky into a tight hug. “Promise.” She says. Lucky laughs, pulling away as the popcorn finished. They all pile onto the couch with Jamie and start the movie. Back to the Future.

After a while. Lucy lifts her hand. A long slender blunt is balanced between her fingers. “So...we’re against getting drunk. But, what about high?”

Jamie and Lucky share a look.

“Oh, what the hell.” Lucky sighs with a shrug. “I may or may not be some reincarnated oracle.”

Lucy lights it up, smiling. “That’s the spirit.”

Lucky sits on the floor and at the TV, the credits rolling. Behind her on the couch, Lucy and Jamie lay deep in their sleep. Their high being slept away slowly. They miss the way Lucky’s green eyes cast a slight glow in the darkness.

“Alas.” Lucky speaks up, her voice distant, reaching across time. “How mistrust will lead to misfortune. A great shadow hovers over Olympus. Ruin and dust shall be the gods kingdom.”

The TV goes dark and Lucky slumps over.

#lucky day #lucy montgomery #jamie jameson #cherry hayes #an oracle in olympus

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ninjakitten1699 · 5 years

Text

Ninjago Pride Week Day 2 (25/6/2019) - Date

@evelinaonline Ninjago Pride Week!

Date you say? Well, I can’t write nor draw a date to save my life *is writing First Date for the TheyDeservedBetter* So, I guess this is the best I got.

Pairing/Ship: DigitalTime/Cynix/Acronix x Cyrus Borg/Futureshipping (I will make this ship known)

This was as neat as his hair could get. He had it brushed back multiple times. For once, he just wanted it to be a tamed mane, but no, some of the strands just kept sticking up and out. He huffed, setting down the brush before stepping back and looking into the mirror.

He was wearing something that would be considered casual, no armor, no weapons, not even his trademark mask while his hair was still down and frazzled-looking. He wondered how he even got into this.

The Time Twin had accidentally bumped into him in public. He was quick to apologize for it and help him out, but Cyrus being the genius he was had figured out who the civilian in disguise was. Acronix winced at that and made himself leave, only to be grabbed by his arm.

It took a lot of convincing for Acronix to stick around but he eventually did. Cyrus chuckled at his stubbornness and it made Acronix stay a little longer.

By then, he was interested in making conversation with the inventor. For Borg, it wasn’t unwelcomed, even if he did get bombarded with questions. He had to tell him to slow down and ask him one thing at a time, but other than that, he was nice to have as company.

One time changed it. “Think there’s anything you want to do that’s... not this?” Acronix asked him, obviously motioning to the work Cyrus had placed before him. The man in glasses sighed and looked away from the work. “It.. It would be nice to get out.”

“Out?” Acronix looked unsure. “Oh.. I don’t know. You still have a lot to catch up on.. especially after... everything.. that’s..” He could only sigh and listen to the famous inventor now. “I know it’s too much to hope for at this point but...” Cyrus looked out to the door. “It would be nice to get away from work.. even if it’s for a little while.”

Acronix wasn’t thinking when he asked, “Would you like to?” Cyrus looked up at him but Acronix looked down and away from him, shifting on his feet. “I mean.. it would probably be for a short while like you said... and I wouldn’t want to get either of us in trouble but.. would you like me to.. take you out of here for a bit?”

Cyrus looked in disbelief before smiling widely and nodding with tears at the corner of his eyes. “Yes.” It must’ve been a long time since he ever went out for himself.

Now here Acronix was, trying to keep calm and look like a civilian. But who was he kidding? He was a nervous wreck. At least on the inside, but still! His thoughts got interrupted when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “AAHH!” He jumped into a fighting stance, having a brush in his one hand. “Brother, calm down. It’s just me.” Krux spoke.

He placed a hand on his chest. “Hhhhh... Don’t do that!” He yelled at him. Krux looked confused. “Do what?” “Sneak up on me!” “I wasn’t sneaking up on you. You were just distracted.” Acronix growled and crossed his arms, pouting like a child. Krux rolled his eyes at him. “And it looked like you needed help.”

“Oh yeah and what would you know about dates?” He raised an eyebrow. “You really think I did nothing but plan for our takeover all forty years?” Krux raised an eyebrow back at him, obviously mirroring him. “Well learning that you still played piano wasn’t too much of a surprise.”

The older twin chuckled and lent a hand out for the brush. “Fine. You can help.. You were better at my hair than I am.” Acronix sighed and handed it over, letting Krux fix up his hair. “I mostly learned from our mother. You know that.” Acronix nodded at that. She did know how to style his hair when he wanted it to look different.

“Besides, I told you not to make a mess of my old suit. It’s a classic look and it’s hard to find it in the right material anymore.” Acronix only nodded before looking down while the usual pony tail in the back got pulled out. Krux noticed his expression. “Brother... What’s wrong?”

“Nothing just...” Acronix chuckled. “I’m just kinda jittery about this.” Krux rolled his eyes. Ah yes. He remembered feeling like that when he went out on a date for the first time. “You’ll be alright, brother. I know you will.” Acronix looked to him. “You think so?”

“Well, it’s not like you’d be worse than me.” Krux chuckled when Acronix gave him a pouty lip before he answered back with, “Yeah you’re right.” Krux feigned looking offended but they both ended up chuckling. “But in all seriousness, you’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re back before it gets dark.”

“Sheesh. You sound like our mother.” Krux rolled his eyes and pulled Acronix’s hair back, setting it in position for a low ponytail and tying it with a red ribbon that contrasted against the ebony mane. “There. That’s better isn’t it?” Acronix looked with a second mirror and smiled. “Yes it is.”

To be honest, he looked weird without their trademark mask, armor, etc., but it was sacrificed when they both had to blend into society but somehow he made this look work. Better than Krux did when he was Dr. Saunders. “Just be good, brother and everything will turn out fine.” Acronix nodded.

“Now if you can excuse me, I have to make sure that little man stays sleeping while you leave.” Ah Yes. Little Wu. He managed to convince Krux to keep him until they could find the Ninja. It’s taking longer than it should, but so far Krux adjusted better to parenting like how Acronix adjusted to the future.

Krux left the room and he waited until he was out of an earshot to sigh softly. Okay.. It’s just a day out. No one hasn’t recognized you yet so everything should be fine. He thought to himself, brushing out the wrinkles in his shirt and fixing his hairtie on his low ponytail. Acronix finally decided to walk out the door, heading out into the city. It’s either now or never.

It’d been past ten minutes. Cyrus looked back up from his watch with a sigh. He shouldn’t feel so impatient to leave this towering building, since he made it his second home in the first place, but he was just so... excited to finally be out for himself.

But Acronix was late. Granted, he doesn’t know the city routes by heart like Cyrus did but it’s a little disheartening to not see him be there on time like he promised. Especially since he was a master of time before his powers were taken away. The inventor sighed softly before his mind decided to turn down a worrisome road. What if something happened to him along the way? What if he got hurt? Or he’s lost? What if-

“Mr. Borg!” Oh Thank the Departed Realm! Cyrus looked to him and smiled softly at Acronix. “Sorry I’m late. I had a little trouble with some things.” He motioned to his hair which actually looked much neater in the ponytail. “I can see that.” Cyrus chuckled softly. “It looks quite handsome.” Acronix blushed softly and chuckled. “I guess it does.”

“And it’s Cyrus. You don’t have to address me so formally.” He looked over his outfit and chuckled. “And you didn’t have to dress so formally either.” “Well, my brother took the date thing a little seriously and he let me borrow his suit from when he was younger so here I am in this.” Acronix motioned to the suit.

It actually looked quite nice on him. It took him a moment to catch Acronix’s words before chuckling. “You really think this is a date?” The younger Time Twin was embarrassed. “Well... I mean.... I just thought that... hehe.” Cyrus chuckled softly before smiling. “It’s alright. I don’t mind if it’s a date.”

“You don’t?” Acronix looked at him, relieved. “Not at all.” Cyrus kept his soft smile. Oh it made the former Time Elemental feel so giddy inside. “Shall we then?” He asked. Acronix nodded and began pushing the wheelchair on their way through the city. “You need to get yourself a set of legs, Cy.”

“Oh very funny.” Acronix chuckled at him while Cyrus crosses his arms, looking away from him. “Oooh, Cy, you know I don’t mean that.” Borg kept his gaze away from him. When nothing happened, he suddenly felt Acronix’s hands go down and stop on his ribs. He looked up at him. “You wouldn’t-.” “Oh would I?” The Time Elemental raised an eyebrow and began tickling him.

No-no-no-no. Hohohoho... Ahahahah~ Acronix~ Everyone’s looking~” He laughed out. Acronix rolled his eyes, knowing it was just a few people. “Oh let the heteros look. You’re adorable.” Cyrus covered, trying to keep his laughter in. He was obviously failing but Acronix eventually stopped when Cyrus asked to breathe. The former master of time chuckled and kissed his forehead, making the inventor blush brightly.

“You’re precious, Cy.” He smiled. “Oh let’s just get on with our date.” Acronix chuckled at his little demand and began pushing the wheelchair again. “As you wish, Mr. Borg.”

“It’s still Cyrus.”

“Whatever you say, Cy-bug.”

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sagesparrow394 · 6 years

Text

Blueberry Body

Sequel to my fanfic Blueberry Blush, which can be found here! Read that one first.

Pairings: Logicality

Summary: In attempts to prove Willy Wonka is realistic, Roman tries to recreate the blueberry gum, with Logan as his tester. After many failed attempts, one finally has an effect.

‘Microsoft Nerd!’

Logan sighed upon hearing Roman call out. At least twice a week, Roman would ask for Logan to test a piece of gum in hopes it would turn the logical side into... Logan felt stupid just thinking it, a giant blueberry.

Basically, after last month’s movie night, Roman wanted to prove that the events in Willy Wonka are realistic and possible, and after a situation filled with misunderstandings, it led to Roman vowing to recreate the gum in the movie and Logan agreeing to be the tester. To be fair, when Logan agreed, he had thought the prince had been joking. That had been proven wrong, though, when Roman had come knocking on his door a day later with a stick of gum.

That gum had had zero effect. Neither had any of the others that followed. Well, except the last one, which had turned his tongue blue for two hours.

Logan stood from his desk and stepped out from his room before heading down the corridor and into the living room. Roman was stood there, a stick of gum in his hand. ‘I have a good feeling about this one. My apologies for the events that will follow.’

Logan rolled his eyes as he took the gum. ‘It’s not going to work.’ He put the gum in his mouth and started chewing. Roman waited in anticipation. Finally, Logan spoke. ‘The worst one yet. It doesn’t have any flavour.’

‘What?!’ Roman’s eyes widened in confusion. ‘But I put in extra blueberry this time, you should at least be able to taste that!’

‘Nothing,’ Logan shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Roman, but it appears I’m still right.’ The teacher turned and left the room to get back to his work, smirking cockily. Roman sighed before turning to head back to his room.

‘Back to the drawing board, I guess...’

Logan sat back behind his desk after spitting out the flavourless gum, where he worked on making schedules for filming for the Sanders Sides episode that would come after the one they were filming the next day. However, after a while, he began to feel drowsy.

The logical side didn’t notice that, as he fell asleep at his desk, a blueberry flavour washed over his taste buds.

* * * * *

The next morning, Virgil was awake in his bed, headphones on and scrolling through Tumblr, as he had been since 2am. Roman was still in bed, a prince has to get their beauty sleep. Patton was in the kitchen, making pancakes for them all for breakfast.

Then a scream echoed through the mindscape, causing Virgil to throw off his headphones, Roman to fall out of bed and Patton to accidentally flip a pancake onto the ceiling.

Patton was the first to arrive at Logan’s bedroom door, closely followed by Virgil and then Roman. Patton tried the door only to find it locked.

‘Loganberry, are you in there?’ Patton asked, concerned for his boyfriend’s safety. ‘A-are you okay?’

‘Uh... y-yeah, I’m fine, n-no need to come in...’ Logan’s voice replied from the other side, sounding uneasy.

‘You literally just screamed, I don’t think I believe you,’ Virgil replied. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I... I just don’t want you to see me like this...’

The three sides outside the room shared a confused glance.

‘Lo, can at least I come in?’ Patton asked. ‘I promise, I won’t judge you for whatever’s going on.’

There was a pause before Logan replied. ‘Okay... But please don’t let the others see me, especially Roman.’

‘What? Why me?’ Roman asked, sounding slightly offended.

‘Of course, Loganberry,’ Patton replied to his boyfriend. He turned to Roman and Virgil. ‘Would you two mind...?’

The anxious and royal traits shared a glance before heading off into the living room. Patton heard the lock on Logan’s door click open. The moral side pulled the handle of the door and stepped inside.

‘Okay, Logy, what’s going- OH MY GOSH!’

Logan was stood in front of Patton, looking very different to how he had the day before. For one, he was blue from head to toe. His skin, hair, eyes, every part of him was the exact colour of a blueberry. On top of that, his stomach had a slight, but noticeable bulge to it.

‘It seems Roman’s newest version of the gum was more effective than I thought...’ Logan was staring at his feet, unable to look Patton in the eye.

The moral side was silent as he stepped forward, still staring at Logan. He reached out a hand and, after a moment of hesitation, gave Logan’s belly a small poke. There was a faint sound of sloshing and Logan’s face blushed a darker blue.

‘Well... I guess it could be worse...?’ Patton shrugged trying to look on the bright side.

Logan didn’t seem as optimistic, sighing as he sat down on his bed. ‘How is anyone going to take me seriously when I look like this? Look at me! My whole purpose relies on my being taken seriously so that you’ll listen to me in conversations, which is going to never happen again!’ He couldn’t help tears welling in his eyes. ‘I’m going to be a laughing stock... I understand if you want to break up with me.’

Patton sat down next to his boyfriend and lifted the logical trait’s chin, so they were looking each other in the eyes.

‘Lo, listen to me. I love you so, so, so much. I’d never break up with you because of this. If anything, it just makes the nickname I gave you more accurate! You are and always will be my little blueberry...’

He pressed his lips against Logan’s purple ones, both of them blushing their signature blues. Then Patton pulled away, giggling.

‘What is it?’ Logan asked, flustered.

‘Your kisses taste like blueberries,’ Patton explained. ‘It’s nice.’

Logan flushed darker, smiling slightly. ‘Are you sure you’re okay with this?’

‘Of course!’ Patton replied, taking the logical side’s hands in his own. ‘But you don’t have to let the others know until you’re ready, okay? I’ll be here for you no matter what you decide.’

‘Okay,’ Logan nodded, smiling at his boyfriend. However, his smile soon disappeared as he felt the familiar tug of Thomas trying to summon him. ‘Oh no... the video...’

‘The video?’ Patton paused before his eyes widened. He wrapped his arms around Logan, holding him tightly. ‘I won’t let you go up if you’re not ready, okay... I promise I’ll hold onto- ’

Logan was pulled from Patton’s grasp.

‘Patton!’

‘Logan!’

Patton shouting his name was the last thing Logan heard before rising up into his spot in Thomas’ living room. Then he was met with three different exclamations of surprise.

‘Oh my god!’

‘Holy shit...’

‘It worked! …Kinda.’

Logan couldn’t help but glare at Roman as hot tears welled in his eyes. Here he was, on camera, a video that would be watched by at least 2.8 million people, and he looked like a blue, bloated freak. And it was all Roman’s fault for making that stupid gum.

‘I am going to kill you.’

‘Huh?’

Two seconds later, Logan and Roman were wrestling on the floor.

‘This is all your fault for giving me that stupid gum!’

‘You agreed to test it!’

‘I didn’t think it would work!’

‘You still agreed!’

‘I thought you were joking the first time you brought it up!’

Logan managed to pin Roman down and raised a fist to punch him in the face.

‘Logan, stop!’

Patton’s arms wrapped around the logical side, pulling him away from Roman. As Logan looked up into the moral side’s disappointed eyes, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He burst into tears, burying his head into his boyfriend’s shoulder. ‘I-I’m sorry... I just...’ He paused. ‘I sh-shouldn’t blame R-Roman... This is my own fault...!’

‘Ssh, Loganberry... it’s okay... it’s not your fault...’

As Roman watched the usually calm and composed side falling apart, sobbing in Patton’s arms, he couldn’t help but feel bad... Logan was right, it was Roman’s fault. He had to make this right.

‘Logan...?’

The teacher looked up at the prince, his eyes bloodshot, purple tear tracks on his cheeks.

‘I think I might be able to do something to help you.’ Roman stood up and extended a hand to Logan.

The logical side stared at Roman for a moment, biting his lip in consideration. Finally, he took Roman’s hand in his blue one. The two of them sank out.

There was a moment of silence.

‘...What the heck’s going on?’ Thomas asked.

Patton and Virgil shared a glance before telling Thomas everything: the movie night and the events of it, Roman trying to recreate the Wonka gum, Logan inadvertently agreeing to the tester, and the results the newest version of it had.

‘Oh my gosh...’ Thomas ran a hand through his hair. ‘And Logan’s stuck like that?’

‘Well, apparently not, judging by Roman’s actions...’ Virgil replied. ‘Anyway, Thomas, you summoned us for a video, so tell us, what’s going on?’

‘Um, actually, I think this solved the problem,’ Thomas replied. ‘My creativity’s been a bit lacking recently, and I’m guessing it’s because Roman’s been so focused on this gum thing.’

Speaking of Roman, he suddenly rose up into his spot. ‘I did what I could, which wasn’t much to be fair, but I tried.’

Logan rose up into his own spot. He was still blue from head to toe, but his stomach was now its ordinary size. ‘Thank you, Roman. I feel a little better.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ Roman insisted. ‘I don’t deserve it. I was trying to turn you into a blueberry, for Pete’s sake! What on earth was I thinking?!’ He sighed. ‘I really don’t deserve any thanks...’

‘Now, now, Roman, you still helped Lo in the end,’ Patton replied. ‘Don’t put yourself down like that.’

‘Yeah, that’s my job. We don’t need to self-hating sides,’ Virgil added.

‘Isn’t there anything that can be done about Logan’s skin?’ Thomas asked.

‘Unfortunately not,’ Roman shrugged. ‘You’ve read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Violet leaves the factory with her skin still blue.’

Logan looked slightly disheartened at this, so Patton walked past the camera and wrapped his arms around the logical side. ‘It’s okay, Lo. I don’t care what colour you are, and I love you all the same. And I’m sure these three won’t take you any less seriously.’ He turned to the others for confirmation, and Virgil, Roman and Thomas all nodded.

Logan hugged back. ‘Thank you, Patton, for everything. I guess I should just focus on what you said earlier: “It could be worse.” And, Roman, again, thank you too. You may have started this, but at least you tried to make up for your mistake, which is much better than a lot of people. And, anyway, I was slightly at fault too. Truce?’

Roman smiled. ‘Truce.’

‘So, it’s all good?’ Thomas asked, looking between all the sides.

‘Apart from the shitstorm that the Famders will start over me and this video, I think so,’ Logan nodded.

‘Language!’ Patton scolded. ‘But I promise I will help you through whatever follows this.’ He gave Logan a kiss, smiling as he pulled away. ‘Still tastes like blueberries.’

‘Well, this whole this has certainly been interesting. Call me back when something more relevant to me happens.’ Virgil sunk out.

‘I should probably go and clear out the gum-making stuff from my room and get started on the new script. You’ve really set me up for a lot of work with promising two Sanders Sides videos in one month, Thomas.’ Roman sunk out.

‘So, Loganberry, you feeling a lot more confident with yourself?’ Patton asked, stroking the logical side’s hair.

‘Yes, I think so,’ Logan smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, you’re the only person whose opinion I care about. And if you’re okay with this, that’s all I need to know.’

Patton rested his forehead against Logan’s. ‘I love you, my little blueberry.’

‘I love you too, Pat.’

The two of them sank out.

Thomas turned to the camera. ‘Well, this didn’t go as I planned... But I still think something can be learnt from this. People can get really hung up on their appearances and what people will think of them based on their looks, and think they look bad as they are and that they need to make changes, but this is a really unhealthy mindset. You are all beautiful and handsome as you are, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Don’t let yourself be pressured into changing yourself if you don’t want to.

‘I think a lesson about forgiveness could be learnt from this too. Getting revenge, while it may seem satisfying, often just makes you stoop to the level of whoever hurt you. By accepting their apology, you are the bigger person, and in some cases, may even make a new friend, or repair a friendship.

‘Well, that’s all for today. Take it easy guys, gals and non-binary pals. Peace out!’

Tags: @weirdonehereoops, @joygaytrash, @punsterterry, @katie-the-noble-fangirl, @pumpkinminette, @metryingtobeme, @robanilla, @nerdy-as-heck

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #patton sanders #sanders sides patton #roman sanders #sanders sides roman #virgil sanders #sanders sides virgil #blueberry #fanfiction #fanfic #logicality

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looselucy · 6 years

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February

I got out of the flat before Harry came out of his room. I was trying to process how I was feeling, more than anything. Myself and Harry had put an end to things before anything even started, in the hopes of avoiding either of us feeling as down as I was doing after seeing that girl come out of his room. I didn’t even imagine I would feel the way I was, so beat, so disheartened.

It was so stupid, that I was even feeling that way. Only a month before, I had hated his guts. On top of that, I had been more than happy to say we wouldn’t go near each other in that way again. It was ridiculous to try and make sense of why I was feeling the way I was. I kind of wanted the ground to just swallow me. I had eaten the scrambled-eggs that Zayn made the two of us and then made some excuse to get out of there without trying to let on that seeing her had gotten to me. Not that he had any reason to catch onto that. Why would he expect anything? Of course I hadn’t left quite soon enough. Not before Zayn had told me all about their evening out; about them pulling girls, about him and Louis and Harry kissing a good number of people, and him being the only one of them who went home alone. Fucking fantastic. I couldn’t get out of there soon enough. I had found myself in a small cafe in the centre of town, the one I had visited with Ed the day after my mum broke the news of hers and my father’s soon to be divorce, and I had text the one person who I felt like I could actually talk to without there being serious repercussions. A weird meeting, but I have to say, I kind of warmed a little bit when I saw her walk into the cafe, with the biggest smile you had ever seen, ten times prettier than I remembered. “Hey, Ronnie!” I grinned, getting to my feet. She was ridiculously warm, everything about her. She practically bounced over to me, giving me a giant kiss on the cheek before wrapping her arms around me, like we had been friends for years, like she had missed me desperately. I was sure she had long hair the last time I saw her, but I could have been wrong, considering how drunk I was. But when she walked in that day, her hair was close to completely gone, shaved thin on the top of her head, a yellowy-blonde that suited her dark skin beautifully. Bright red lips that had probably left a nice mark on my cheek, but who cared when it was her? I barely knew the girl and I figured anyone would welcome a kiss from her. “Hey, sweetie!” She called, mid-cuddle. “How’ve you been?” “Good. Yeah, I’m okay. You?” I said as we pulled away. “Amazing. I’m gunna get a coffee and probably something else that will make me fat. You want something? They do the best brownies here.” “I’m okay, thank you. I don’t have much of an appetite.” She shrugged, silently telling me I was missing out, and then swanned over to the counter, drawing in eyes as she did. I sat myself down, pulling my phone out of my bag to see another text from Ed. Ed: Ringo is incredible! That piece... I am in awe. Me: Right? Just felt like I needed another opinion though, since I’m no musician, but isn’t she brilliant? Ed: Ridiculously so. I gave her a few tips but there wasn’t much I could say. I’ve asked her to work with me on a song I’ve had in my head and she said yes! Me: That’s so cool! You should do a gig together. Ed: That’s definitely on the cards! Before I could reply, the chair across from me scraped loudly as Ronnie sat herself down, two brownies and one cup of coffee up, tearing into the brownie as soon as she was seated, then pushing the second over to me. “Honestly, I’m oka-” “You look like you’ve been hit by a train, babe. I’ve never seen someone who looks more in need of chocolate than you do right now. Also, it’s Valentine’s Day, and we’re sat here together. Unless you’re a lesbian. Oh shit. Are you a lesbian? Is this a date?” “No!” I laughed. “Not a lesbian. Definitely not a date.” “Oh. Well that’s a relief. I would have felt like a horrible person turning you down. ANYWAY, tell me, what’s wrong?” I sunk into my chair a little, shaking my head, still kind of laughing about the lesbian debacle, which reminded me so much of the vegetarian chaos that had happened between me and Ben. “Am I that obvious?” I cringed. “Yeah.” “I hate that.” “So... Go on...” She smiled. It should have felt stranger than it did. She was a third-party, and that was helpful, but at the same time, I didn’t even know her, not really, and I was about to tell her something I didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone else. She felt trustworthy. She felt kind. And I figured this was the beginning of a friendship, why not start that by showing her that I did trust her? “I live with this guy,” I sighed. “And we didn’t get on at first, but then over reading week I stayed at his, because I had nowhere else to go. So we kind of like... kissed, and some other stuff. Then we both decided not to let anything like that happen again, which was all good. We both wanted that. But... this morning, I saw some girl walk out of his bedroom, doing the walk of shame... and it just hit me, y’know? It’s just really got to me. I just can’t figure out why.” She took a steady sip of her coffee, kind of nodding, taking in the bits and bats of information I had given her. I couldn’t have possibly told her the whole tale of myself and Harry. We would have been there for days. “Do you like him?” She asked me straight off. I had been expecting the question, but at the same time I scoffed it off, like it was completely ridiculous. “No.” I scowled. “Not as anything more than a friend.” “So, nothing has happened between you since you came back?” She didn’t seem like she believed it. “No. Well, we sleep together. In the simplest sense.” “He stays in your bed?” “Or-or I stay in his.” I mumbled. She nodded, having one more sip of her coffee as I did the same, kind of nervous about the analysis she was about to give me. She didn’t come across like the type of girl who would pussyfoot and tiptoe around a topic. “Okay. So here’s what I think.” She sat upright. “I think you’re over-complicating things for one. We’re females, and as much as we like to deny it, we get attached to people. Even if it is just a one-night stand, or a night of someone holding you, or anything like that… We hold the person who we shared that with a little bit dearer than we care to admit. I don’t think you’re like... in love with this guy, or anything. I just think you have that attachment. The jealousy bug always bites hard, with that kind of thing. I’m friends with this guy, back home, and sometimes when we’re drunk, he ends up back at mine and we cuddle until we fall asleep. It doesn’t mean anything, he’s just a friend, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get jealous when I see him with girls on a night out. Know what I mean?” A felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I kept thinking what if I did have feelings for him? How awkward things would be when I lived with him next year? If he could fuck some girl less than a week after being with me, how many people would I have to see him with whilst we lived together? I didn’t want to feel that way every single time. Her explanation made sense. Because I definitely didn’t still have feelings for Louis, not even close, but I didn’t want to hear about him kissing other people. It just came naturally, for a lot of girls, to feel jealous, to feel like it was something personal. I fell into that category girls. “You think?” I bleated. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it too much.” She mulled. “All I would recommend is that you stop sharing a bed with him. If you stop that, then it’ll be easier for you when you see him with other girls. It’s no biggy.” I nodded, completely agreeing with her, because I hadn’t even realised mine and Harry’s late night cuddles would result in me feeling as attached to him as I did. Of course that needed to stop. I quickly perked up from nowhere, slightly panicked. “Please don’t tell anyone!” I yelped. “Who would I tell?” She laughed it off. “No, I’m being serious! No one in my flat or any of my friends even know what happened between us, because they would make such a big deal out of it. I just... I need to keep it that way.” “I promise.” She cooed. She moved her hand across the table, and forced the plate with the brownie on that little bit closer to me. She was right. I bloody needed chocolate. “Thank you.” I heaved quietly. “If you’re not going to get any dick on Valentine’s Day,” She nodded. “Then you definitely need chocolate.” + + + Myself and Tally were in the showers next to each other again, and once again, Tally was going home for the weekend. We had been in there for quite a while, and it had been relatively quiet, to say we usually spent the entire time chatting. Things were weird, especially since my run in with her now ex-boyfriend. I hadn’t even told her about the house yet. Maybe it was time. It was definitely time. “I didn’t thank you.” She gulped out of nowhere. “For what you did with Jay, the other day.” “Don’t mention it.” I said, rinsing through my hair. “I can’t even imagine how impossible it would have been for you to do something.” “I know. I do appreciate you taking the step I couldn’t.” She passed over the shower-gel she had bought a couple of days before, having promised to let me try it, with the guarantee it wouldn’t make my nipples tingle. “Thanks.” I grabbed hold of the bottle. “It’s just scary isn’t it, how people can fall into that kinda thing?” “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I imagine my case was pretty tame, too. It’s scary.” I mumbled my agreement, and then we went back to being quiet. I wanted to tell her about how I would be living with Zayn and Harry the next year, but I didn’t know how to begin, how to break it to her. I thought maybe it would be best to be blunt. “I-I know where I’m living next year.” She didn’t say anything. The water was louder than it had ever been before. It sounded like a torrential downpour. I almost half expected to hear a crash of lighting, to see the bolt of light. I stood still, just looking down, waiting for her to say something. I was sure it got colder in there. “Oh.” She said numbly. “Yeah...” Back to silence. I started moving again, using the gel she had given me and squeezing it onto my sponge, before washing myself, waiting for her to say something. I wasn’t like she hadn’t caught on, she knew what was happening. “With who?” She asked hesitantly. “With Harry and Zayn.” “Oh. Wow... You really are good friends now, huh?” I caught as much water as I could in my cupped hands before slapping it over my face, then looking up to the bright lights in the ceiling above us. “I guess so.” I uttered. “Pip, I don’t want you to think-” Tally was cut short by the noise of the door opening. “UMM WE’RE IN HERE!” “OH SHIT!” We heard Mike cry. “SORRY, LADIES!” We were left alone again, like it wasn’t awkward enough, and then within seconds I heard Tally turn her shower off and get out. I followed as swiftly as I could, grabbing the gel she had let me borrow to give back to her once I was out. She was stood waiting for me, arms folded. “I don’t want you to feel badly.” She told me as I wrapped my towel tight around my body. “I know we’re friends, but we’re not best friends, are we? I didn’t think we’d live together next year, to be honest. I just... I didn’t think you’d live with Harry either.” I was reminded of one of the reasons I liked Tally. She would sigh, and roll her eyes, and not shy away when she didn’t like something. But she wasn’t like me, she wouldn’t protest, or throw a strop, she would just accept it. It was an admirable characteristic of hers, one I hadn’t seen in many people. It clearly wasn’t the best news she had ever had, but she knew that her being upset or angered about it, wouldn’t get her anywhere. Nobody could accept a situation for how it was quite as easily as Tally could. Even when she hated it. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.” I felt like I was going to cry, for some reason. “Don’t worry about me!” She assured. “There are some girls on my course who asked me to look with them anyway. Just don’t bullshit me, woman.” “I’m sorry!” “Don’t be, it’s fine. We’re always gunna be fine, me and you. You’re the first friend I made here! My mum told me those are the friendships that last.” She smiled kindly. I giggled down to the floor, feeling a little cold now, ready for an interesting Friday night spent revising and oversleeping. “My mum told me the same thing.” I revealed. She wasn’t my best friend, but she was a good friend, and had been since day one. We were similar, we had similar interests and traits. I might not be living with her, but I couldn’t imagine us growing further apart. + + + I lay revising on Zayn’s bed as he sat sketching at his desk. He had told me that Harry had gone for a run earlier, and he hadn’t seen him since. I was glad I hadn’t bumped into him quite yet. I felt better after my chat with Ronnie, but I still wasn’t too sure how I would actually react when I was in his company again, and I definitely wasn’t eager to find out. I flicked a page, enjoying the soothing sounds of The Beatles, always liking the fact that me and Zayn could sit in silence like that, with him doing his work and me doing mine. Neither of us were the type of people who liked being on our own. I put it down to growing up with siblings. His phone pinged again, like it had been doing all evening. “That a girl?” I cocked my brows and kicked his back from my position on his bed. “I wish.” He grinned. “It’ Louis. Gunna go round to his in a bit. Friday night weed treat. You got any plans?” “To go to bed.” “Exciting.” He turned around with a fake grin on his mouth. “You’re telling me!” He shook his head and then went back to his picture. I glanced over his shoulder, and it seemed like he was sketching a girl, her naked body with marks and art all over her skin, like tattoos. She had a cracking pair of tits on her, too. I went back to reading for a while, close to nodding off, really. Zayn had fairy lights attached to his roof, completely ignoring the fire meeting we had in our first week at university, when they told us that was one of the top things not to do. Then thanks to the music, and how relaxed we were, and then reading, I credit myself for not falling asleep there and then. “Hey, I was thinking.” Zayn prompted. “Are you gunna invite Grace for yours and Harry’s birthday do?” “I didn’t even think! I should, shouldn’t I?” “Definitely! I miss that girl.” “Me too! I’ll invite her.” I checked the time. “Okay. I’m gunna scoot back to my room. Have fun with Louis tonight. And be safe.” “Of course.” I gave him a kiss on the top of his head before I moseyed back to my own room, my book still in hand, but I definitely wasn’t in the mood to carry on revising. It would probably be a decision I regretted when my exam came around, but in that moment, I felt I had done enough reading for one evening. After a quick visit to the bathrooms to brush my teeth, I head back towards my room, knowing that I would probably end up watching a Disney film, because how else was I supposed to spend my Friday nights, being an 18 year old student? But as soon as I was sat down on my bed, something took my from my plans. There was a knocking on my wall. Three gentle knocks. I stared at the concrete with little to no breathing, my hands shaking straight away, surprised when he knocked again within a matter of seconds. I wanted to, but I couldn’t ignore him. He obviously knew I was in there, and he obviously wanted me for something. I also couldn’t ignore him because then he would know something was wrong, and he would start acting with me the way he did with Tally, and I couldn’t think of anything worse. I’d rather pretend everything was fine that lose him altogether. He knocked again. Before leaving my room, I checked my appearance in the mirror, slightly disappointed with myself entirely, but I would have to do. I lived with him, for god sake. He had definitely seen me worse. I opened my door and poked my head out, knowing Ringo and Zayn were in, but that was it, yet I really didn’t want to be seen sneaking into Harry’s room like we had something to hide. I rushed from my room to the next, feeling nervous as soon as I was in Harry’s room, closing the door gently behind myself. “Hey!” He beamed happily. I turned around, to see him sat sideways on the single bed, legs dangling off the edge, his body propped up against the wall, with his Fleetwood Mac poster above his head. “Evening.” I greeted. He had photographs in his hand, which he then held out for me excitedly, ushering me to go and take a closer look. Without saying anything, I moved his way, my heart in my throat though I was trying to act like I didn’t have a heart at all, because it was the last thing I needed was Harry to see, since it had been such a wreck all day. I sat down next to him, with a little more distance than I would have done the evening before, and gently took the pictures from his hand. My eyes went wide. “S’you.” Harry nodded quietly. They were the pictures he had taken in his home, with the galaxy he painted on my back, against the wall in their hallway in the middle of the night. I scanned through them, trying to look past the fact that it was me I was looking at, and just enjoy the photos for what they were. “It is.” I shivered. “That’s my favourite.” Harry said as I reached the last one It was the last one he had taken that evening. I was practically facing the camera, my eyes catching the lens, my mouth slightly dropped. I looked seriously intense, like I actually knew what I was doing, staring down that lens like I was completely in charge. “I look weird.” I cringed. “You look fucking brilliant.” Harry contended. “So much so, I got a first.” “You did?” I turned to face him with glee in my voice. “Yeah! So, thank you.” “That’s not down to me. They’re your photos.” “Yeah but, without you it’s just a wall, isn’t it?” I gulped hard, and I noticed the pictures had begun shaking in my hands. I realised then, that I was one of those people who needed time to get over things. I had been ignoring the whole thing with my parents, because I still wasn’t over it. Then, on top of that, I was still reeling in the way Harry had touched me, and the thought of him doing that with someone else. I hadn’t had enough time to process any of it yet. “Well, I better go.” I said as I raised to my feet. “You got plans?” He asked me, a sad little look on his face. “Umm, no.” I mumbled, looking down to him. “Well... Stay. Watch a film or something.” “I’m pretty tired.” His brows dropped, and he looked me up and down as I started backing out of the room, shrugging my shoulders, smiling awkwardly. “Have I done something wrong?” He quizzed. I wanted to say yes, but in the grand scheme of it all, Harry had done absolutely nothing wrong, whether it had gotten to me or not. Seeing the sad look that laced his features was genuinely making me feel worse. “No,” I sighed. “You haven’t done anything wrong.” “Okay... well... I’ve been wanting to watch Monsters Inc all day, so are you gunna join me or what?” I couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no. I also figured it was best to take this head on. I wasn’t going to avoid him forever, over something so seemingly mundane. I would have to get over it, because it certainly wouldn’t be the last time I saw something like that. “Okay.” I sputtered. “I can’t say no to Monsters Inc.” “I know you can’t.” He grinned, getting up to his feet. “You want a brew?” “Okay.” “Okay...” I could tell Harry was getting confused by the way I was acting around him. “Well… you set everything up then.” He stared at me, confused, but didn’t say anything as he walked out of his room to prepare our drinks, whereas I began to search through the DVD collection on the shelf above the tele on his wall. A fine collection, to say the least, and they were just the ones he had brought to uni with him. The one in his actual home was even more impressive. When Harry was back in his room, he was once again giving me the most bizarre look, a giant mug in each hand. “What are you doing?” He baffled. “What?” “We’re having cuddles. We always have cuddles.” I was sat upright on his bed, like he had been when I first walked in. I hadn’t really been considering cuddles. “I also thought we decided not to do that.” I tried. “When?” He placed the mugs on the floor. “Monday night, when you crawled into bed with me. We said that would be the last time.” “Well... it wasn’t, was it?” “No, but... maybe it should have been.” He sat next to me, still staring at me like he thought I was going completely mad. Once again, I was doing a terrible job of hiding how I actually felt, despite my efforts. “Why are you acting so weird?” He choked. “I’m not!” “Then cuddle me!” He demanded. There was no point arguing with the little fucker. If Harry Styles was anything, he was persistent. He liked to get his own way. A blatant only child. As quickly as I could, I lay down, not wanting to get under the sheets because that would have been the only thing that made things worse for me. But as soon as we were lay together, as soon as I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, Monsters Inc on, Harry’s arm slowly snaking around my waist when he tucked me back so I was closer to him, I realised I was more than happy to be there. I liked being there. Ronnie’s words played over in my mind. I knew I shouldn’t have been doing it, it couldn’t have really been helping. But at the time I felt better, and that was enough. However, I still wasn’t quite being myself. It was time to try. “How was last night?” I decided to ask, for some reason. “Alright. It was... weird.” I had a feeling I was about to hear more than I wanted to, but I couldn’t cut the conversation there. On top of that, I was slightly intrigued, the nosy part of me getting the upper-hand. “Why was it weird?” “Oh god… I can’t.” He flopped onto his back and covered his face with his giant hands, laughing and cringing and writhing and shaking his head. I turned so my back was to the tele and I could look at him properly, giggling before I even knew what he was talking about. “What?” I poked at his cheek, feeling like I had kept my hands to myself for long enough. “I can’t tell you!” “Well you have to now!” I pulled his hands off his face, so he twisted his neck to he was facing the wall, laughing at himself, unable to look at me. I dragged at his cheek so he was looking at me again, keeping my palm flat against his skin even when he was looking back into my eyes. “Okay.” He cleared his throat after a while, so I moved my hand. “So we were with some girls last night, and then I ended up bringing this one girl back here and... Oh god...” “You fucked her?” “Umm... Well, I would have... if I could... have.” I was obviously feeling pretty slow that day, because I did not catch on. I did not understand where he was coming from. That definitely made it worse for Harry, too. He did not want to say it out loud. “What?” I wondered. “I... For fuck sake, Pip-Squeak. I couldn’t get hard, alright?” I slapped my hand over my mouth, a mixture of being completely confused and dumbfounded by what he had just told me, amused, and also, kind of relieved. “Are you serious?” I gawped. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.” He laughed. I didn’t want to laugh in his face, but I couldn’t help it. The best part was, he didn’t seem to care too much. He wasn’t upset by it, or anything, so of course he laughed along with me, and of course he did that at the same time as trying to push me off the bed. “I can’t believe you couldn’t get hard!” I howled. “Stop laughing at my misery!” Harry pulled me in to him when I began falling off the bed, not letting that happen, pulling me close to him again as I threw my head back, still laughing at him as his laughter died down. It was so funny to me. Not just because I was relieved, but because of the type of boy Harry was, and how I knew it would have hurt his pride. I kind of liked that. I also liked that he’d been comfortable enough to tell me in the first place. I was trying to know where we stood, and he was helping me to do that. He was helping remind me that we were just friends. His hands found their way into the back of my messy hair as he watched me with the smallest smile on his face as my laughter began to slowly calm, his other hand on the bottom of my back, and I could feel him pulling me in, I could feel the front of my body beginning to press into him. As soon as I looked back up to him, he pressed his lips against mine, like it was the most natural instinct he had, his fingers gripping my head, possessive, perilous. I pulled away almost immediately, even though I didn’t really want to. “What are doing?” I whispered desperately. “What I want.” He grunted, moving back in. His tongue was inside my mouth, and I was moaning against the plump feeling of his ridiculously tempting lips before I could even consider saying no to him. I had barely gotten a chance to breathe, to inhale the mere idea of having him on me again, and there he was, his tongue against mine, his hips thrusting up to mine and his fingers gripping onto me so tightly he could have been bruising me with his print. The idea of us, and what we meant to one another, became hazy once more. “You can’t always do what you want.” I panted once he took his lips to my jaw. ”But I want you.” He groaned, moving so he was on top of me, in between my legs, grinding into me. “You make me hard. You don’t even fucking try. Fuck…” He moved and kissed at my neck. My back arched off the bed as both his hands tightened to my waist, kissing and nibbling up to my ear, panting and groaning. He was there in the moment, so caught up in me. Harry was an expert at making me feel wanted, making me feel desired. “We can’t keep doing this.” I whined up to the roof. “This is the last time, Pip.” He bit at my earlobe. “I just need you now.” “We didn’t even last a week.” I grinned through the pleasure. “Well I’m still stuck on you.” The sound of a door opening in the corridor brought us to an abrupt halt, Harry hovering his lips a mere inch from mine, both of us panting as quietly as we physically could as Zayn let himself out of our halls to go and get high with Louis. “Fuck.” I gasped as the front door shut. I then leaned in and bit at his bottom lip slowly, keeping my eyes on his the entire time as I pulled the skin away from his face, ignoring all my instincts, ignoring every sensible part of my mind, and just being there in the moment, and admitting how much I had craved him since Sunday evening. “The fact that this is a secret makes it so much harder to stay away from you.” He groaned once his lip was free. “Like it’s… taboo.” He was right. Part of the reason we were doing that was because it was hot doing it, it was mischievous and sneaky and it was almost like it was wrong. It just made the whole idea of us being like this so much more appealing. We repeated what had happened in his home. Harry used his hands and kissed me until my lips were inflated, but that was it. We somehow managed to keep it at that. I hadn’t even touched Harry’s swollen member other than through his tight jeans. But it didn’t matter, Harry seemed satisfied enough with leaving me wet and reeling. He didn’t even hint at the fact he wanted me to return the favour, unlike most boys I’d been with. I figured he was a giver, which made his appeal all the more enticing. It was taboo. It was a secret. But most importantly, it was ours. That made it almost impossible to leave behind.

#as ever #I'm excited to hear your thoughts #hoping for a week full of updates but also #be patient with me #and be polite #BB23 #1dff #Harry Styles

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